An American in Provence

After our trip to San Remo, we had Wednesday, the 14th of July, off from work.
We were a little tired from our trip, but wanted to get out of the house a little bit.

As Alain had been pining over his lack of motorcycle for four whole days, and had been coveting all the motorcycles in Italy (Look Megan! It's an Aprillia 1000! Umm, okay dear.) he was itching to take it out for a spin.

I suggested that we go to my favorite overlook spot, near where I used to work.

I found this spot quite by accident.I used to have 2 hour lunches, which was too short to go back home in Marseille for lunch, yet too long for just sitting around thumb-twiddling. I joined a gym, and would go there several days a week, or else would just go to the mall and walk around (Auchan- how fun.) One day, I took my car and just kept wandering until I found this large park. I kept following the road up and up and up until I arrived at the top and wow! Great view of the surrounding area.

I would go up there about once a month, bring my lunch, and read a book. It helped me to clear my mind, to keep in mind that yes, one day I would find a job that I really liked, and to forget about all the frustrations of work.
So I suggested to Alain that we take his motorcycle and go up to the Outlook, then come back down and have a drink somewhere in the town of Gemenos. He agreed and we were off.

There were some people out enjoying the park and the summer with their families, but not too many. We road up to the top and took a few pictures.
We then headed back down, and found a small café. We went in and ordered some beers. It was a nice shaded terrace, not too crowded.

We spent a nice moment sitting there, then headed back to Marseille. We didn't go to see the fireworks. There are always way too many people down by the Vieux Port, and they always start several hours late anyway. As Alain had to work the next day, we decided not to go. I took the entire week off, and spent Thursday and Friday running yet more errands and straightening up the apartment a bit. The last few months I really went into a see-no-housework, must-pass-my-exams survival mode, and something had to be done.

All in all though, a pleasant 14th of July.

I guess it is time to come out of my hot-summer-days induced blogging daze and start posting again.

Alain and I went to San Remo, Italy for a long weekend early July. We left on Friday night (I had the day off from work and spent it doing laundry, preparing our stuff to take, and running errands). When Alain got home from work, we threw everything in the car and took off around 7 pm. I was worried that there would be a lot of traffic, but it wasn't too bad. Stopped for a sandwich before Nice, then got to San Remo around 10 pm. Hauled everything in, made up the bed, and fell asleep.

Boy was it hot! Alain always complains about the beds in their pied-à-terre, but I have found that I can sleep on pretty much anything. Must be the military school training. Seriously. I used to sleep curled up on the floor underneath my desk, just so the upperclassmen wouldn't look in my room and see me napping (not allowed).

We woke up the next morning, wandered over to the Saturday morning market (fake Louis Vuitton, Burberry, Dior bags galore) bought some food, some shorts for him, a dress, shoes, and purse for me (why do you need more shoes and purses!?) . Then we headed back to the house. That was quite a bit of effort, and it was hot, so we took a nap. Then we went down to the beach, swam a little bit, then back to the house.

Had a very Italian meal of pasta, proscuitto, wine and tomatos.

After that long hard day, we went to sleep about 10 pm. Boy, vacations are hard!

Sunday was a bit rainy, yet still hot, and Alain decided he couldn't take it anymore. We had to buy a fan. We finally found one at a nearby store called Conad (I hate that name. It sounds like a mix between Con (french for idiot) and Gonad).

Took another nap Sunday afternoon, then went to the beach. It smelled funny (funny like sewage) and nobody was swimming. Hmm, I guess that is a sign.

On Monday, we went on our annual trip up into the mountains. We went to our favorite town, Triora, and had lunch at L'Erba Gatta, like every year. Walked around the town a bit, and went up to the cemetary.

When we got back to San Remo, Alain wasn't feeling well. He rested for awhile, and I walked around downtown. Bought a carton of icecream (his favorite thing in the whole wide world. well, maybe tied with spaghetti) and tried to cheer him up.

On Tuesday, he still wasn't feeling too well. We walked around a bit downtown by the Old Harbor. We were planning on leaving on Wednesday, but he was sick and tired and hot and I was just hot, so we decided to head back to Marseille. We went back to the house, packed and cleaned, and got on the road about 5 pm. Made it back to Marseille without a problem, unloaded, unpacked, and were happy to be home.

Some years when we go to San Remo we want to stay a few days more, and some years we leave sooner than expected. This was rather an off year. We didn't go roller blading, didn't go out for dinner, didn't spend much time at the beach.

I think we were both exhausted from the long year- me with my studies and he with his work.

When I went to the supermarket this morning, on the announcements board there was a large sign "Les Majorettes de Marseille recrutent!"
Must be between 165 and 180 centimeters, and preferably have Majorette/PomPon experience. Briefly toyed with the idea of "trying out".
Competitions in France and Europe!

Though I am one centimeter too short, I am almost certain that they would take me, as I have actual US cheerleading/pompon experience, which is different than in France, where it seems to be mostly just marching in line wearing high boots, an outfit from the 1980's, and waving pom pons around.

But who am I kidding? I can't see myself asking my boss:
"Can I have three days off next week?"
"Maybe. Why?"
"To go to a Majorette competition in Paris."

Plus, I don't really have the time for practicing every Saturday from 14:30 to 18:00. Though it would be nice to meet some other women.

Sigh. My Cheerleading Days are officially over.

She has been in France for five years now.

On Monday, three days before the official 5-year anniversary, she re-submitted her file to obtain French nationality, hoping that even French bureaucrats wouldn't be so picky as to send it back for being filed three whole days ahead of time.

Woke up at 5:40, did a quick ten minutes of exercise, then shower, catch up on emails and blogs while eating a yogurt, out the door at 6:30 to drive to Aix. Parks in the parking garage, gets to her office a few minutes after 7. It is her favorite part of the day- calm, no people in the streets, cool, quiet. Nobody else has arrived at the office and won't for at least another hour.
She prepares her tea, turns on her computer, then surfs the internet or writes in her journal until about five minutes before 8 when her Frenchman calls to make sure she arrived okay. A quick conversation that takes place after his shower and before his breakfast. It is a habit that they have picked up over the years of working. They don't call each other throughout the day unless it is necessary, but a quick "I made it, have a good day" every morning.

At around 8 she begins working- reading CaseLaw, responding to Official Notices from the Patent Offices, working on the drawings for a new patent to be filed.
The Others start arriving around 9 and say hello but no Bises here.

At around 12:30 she leaves to go to La Poste in the Centre Ville- swerving tourists with their cameras, tour groups, and the little white train, she makes it to La Poste, takes a ticket, waits to be called. One package sent to the US for 25€, then quick to Chez Paul for her favorite sandwich, tomate mozzarella as well as a macaron au chocolat to be shared that evening. At 1, her French class starts, once a week, usually the mondays, in a little café on the main square in front of the Hôtel de Ville. Dictée, verb tenses, conversation while sipping a cappucino. At 2, the official time she landed in Marseille, back to work for the rest of the afternoon. One or two Nespresso espressos throughout the day, earplugs and calming medication to try and not go nuts with the street accordion player, then around 6:30 she starts to get ready to leave. It is summer so it is still light out, but fewer tourists out in the streets now.

On the road, back to Marseille. Usually less traffic at this time of night, but can always run into heavy traffic due to concerts at the Stade Velodrome or the Dôme.

She arrives around 7:30 and luckily manages to find a parking spot right in front of their building. Getting to be quite an expert at parallel parking, as well as accepting the fact that no car remains undented for long in Marseille, she swings right into the parking spot, no problem.

For dinner, quick pasta and tuna, her Frenchman's favorite, while they watch a TV series episode together, then she heads to her desk to study for a few hours before falling into bed before 11. It is hot, so they leave the fan on and the windows open all night long.

And that is the 5-year anniversary of French residency.