Malheuresement

Je suis home from France. I’ve been home since Sunday actually but I’ve not blogged because I’ve been trying to deny the fact that I am. Either that or I was knackered on Sunday and out til 9pm on Monday… actually, it’s all of the above. Deceptive.

A group of around ten of us formed on this French trip to become quite good friends. On the coach ride home, we all swapped phones and wrote in numbers and, at home, I got my little booklet out with the itinerary and information to add them all on facebook. We all hate the weather and wish we were back. And every single one of us is now fluent in franglais, which won’t help for our mock oral exams this week…

On the last day, we stayed in a hotel. Grace and Catherine had a huge, apartment-like room far away from anyone in the complex and we decided to have a party. All was good and dandy as we made our way through 15 litres of cheap wine… until Odile (the latter half of the Flodile team, comprised of our two French teachers, Flo and Odile) came in, yelling at us that we were all babies and the whole hotel could hear us, ladidadida.
I ran away to my room, yanked my skinny jeans off, scattering change everywhere, and alternated between lying in bed; peeking through the windows – half-expecting to see the full force of the Flodile team coming up the path; drinking water and making friends with the toilet. We all faced the fateful ‘I’m so disappointed in you’ speech in the morning (I was still tipsy at this point and unable to take it seriously. I stood with my hand over my mouth, undecided between laughter and tears.) mais, surtout, c’etait bon temps. Bien sur.

For the main part of the week, we stayed with families. Liz and I stayed with Madame Mislej, an art gallery owner. On the first day, she was dressed in an eclectic mix of bright blue skinny jeans and a big woollen jumper. We should have really poured compliments on her about her outfit because within an hour of introducing us to her apartment (a beautifully modern place with an artsy cluttered-but-not-messy feel, set in the heart of an old, continental building in the centre of Montpellier), she was sunbathing naked for all eyes to see. And mine did. Merde.
At one point, she also fried up potato wedges in the same frying pan as beef.
“Ce n’est pas la viande.” She assured me, pouring them on to my plate. I felt like going, yeah… but that is… je suis tres unimpressed.

However, I found wine is very good for cleansing out your insides. Especially seeing as after every meal (usually mostly made up of bread) Madame Mislej would ask Liz and I if we were going out… and, oh, wasn’t that a coincidence! She was going out too! See you tomorrow!… but with our big group of 10 or so people and many bars to enjoy, it wasn’t too bad. In fact, it was fucking brilliant.

I didn’t even like wine when I set off for Carcassonne Airport the Sunday before last… now I’m finding myself having trouble sleeping without it!

There are also many temps I just couldn’t describe in detail here: our afternoon sunbathing by a river; the petanque tournament that my team (les boulistes) came second in; the ‘friendly’ people of Montpellier; the mix and match day filled with a trip to the beach, ice skating, a meal out and some drama in between… et cetera, et cetera…

Malheuresement, it’s all memories now and we’re all slowly, begrudgingly, adjusting back to England. Torrential rain and 26 promised weeks of roadworks… mais, we’ve all got new friends, bon temps to look back and smile at and even a little bit of a tan going on! Werhay.

Je sais good times can’t last forever. J’espere they would mais… c’est la vie.

;)