Sometimes You Need To Walk

 I love intense sports. I love surfing and running and horseback riding... I love moving fast and feeling alive and pushing myself, but sometimes, I just need to walk. Today was one of those times, though I didn't realize it at first. My impending departure from France has me left with a million emotions, as every big change does. Things feel different now as two of my good friends have just left and I know I will soon be saying "goodbye", too. Sunday is my day off and I spent the morning organizing my room and going through my things. I had no idea what to do with my afternoon but I was feeling restless, pensive, and a bit down. There were no waves so I couldn't go surfing and the thought of running (especially in the heat of the day) wasn't terribly appealing. I would have loved to see friends but they are all either gone or were busy. I couldn't imagine staying in the house all day so I decided to take the car and go visit a small town not far from here called Pont Aven, which I had never seen before.

Pont Aven

The Port

As soon as I got there, I realized that walking around a bustling tourist town with people and cars was not at all what I wanted to do but I worked my way through the busy center towards the port and I stumbled upon a trail on the edge of town. It was exactly what I needed and I followed it as it wound along the edge of the water and into a perfectly green and lovely woods. The woods do something for my soul and being practically alone on that quiet trail was wonderful. I thought about my time in France and of times before and of all the places I have gone and all the wonderful people I have met. I thought about the things I love in life and how I wish I could have them all at the same. I happened upon a couple of horses in a field along the trail and my heart ached for the times when horses were my world. I walked past farms down a long, dirt, tree-lined road and I reminisced of other dirt, tree-lined roads through farmland in other parts of the world and the times that I had had on them. Occasionally, I passed people - families, couples, friends - and I longed to be with people that I love and care about. I dreamed about the future, too. What I will do, where I will go, who I will be, and who I will be with. I have so many dreams but really no idea where I will end up and I love thinking about the possibilities. I walked for a long time and I didn't want the trail to end. I wanted to walk until I couldn't walk anymore and just to be alone with my thoughts and memories and dreams.

My lovely little trail

Ponies :)

I can't remember the last time I just walked and thought like that and it felt so good. I'm always with other people or, when I'm alone, I'm distracted by my phone or computer or some activity and I didn't even know how much I needed it. When I finally came back to the town, I felt completely different. I calmly admired the pretty, French town, strolled past the little shops and restaurants, and waded in the river that flows under the bridge for which the town is named ("pont" is French for "bridge"). Then I bought myself and Italian ice, which I thoroughly enjoyed before making my way back home. 

Thoughts

I had every intention to keep up my blog here but the time has passed incredibly quickly. It's hard to believe that I've been here for more than four months, which means I only have about two and a half months left! I could write about so many things I don't even know where to start. What is it like to be an au pair in France? It's wonderful and incredibly difficult at the same time. I love that I'm here but I can't say I love every minute of it. When you live in a family, you get to experience things in a way that you never would if you were alone or living with friends but are also in the midst of all their problems and it can be hard not to be affected by them. I think it's a great way to experience another culture and to see what it's like to live in a French family but, I have to say, I really do miss my independence, especially after living on my own/with friends. And it's not like a 9-5 job where you know your hours and once you clock out you're done. Of course, it's different in every household but I've found Saturdays (like today) to be the most difficult. It's not that I work so much but that I never know exactly when I'm needed and when I'm free. It can be incredibly frustrating because I might have nothing to do but I can't actually do anything because I might need to be with the kids in an hour or bring one of them to or from an activity. If you know me well, you know I'm not so good at being patient and I don't really like sitting around doing nothing. Recently, I've really been trying to change my perspective and take advantage of the time I have to write my blog, journal, read, etc., etc. But it's still a struggle, especially when there are waves I could be surfing...


I don't want to complain, though, because I do actually get a lot of time to enjoy France. In the beginning, I thought I would be traveling practically every weekend and really seeing France but in reality I haven't done too much of that. I've seen some of the nearby cities - Rennes, Vannes, Lorient, Quimper - but my only full day off is Sunday and, in France, everything is closed on Sunday and really, as nice as French cities are, I'd rather spend time with friends or go surfing or do something outdoors than spend money to drive to city only to be able to walk around, eat, and spend more money.  I would really like to see a bit more but I'm also quite content to spend my time surfing, and doing things around here. I feel like I'm more addicted to surfing than ever since coming here. I check the surf reports every day just hoping that there will be waves and I will do just about anything to make time for a session if I know there are waves, even if it means waking up at 6am to go before the day starts. I've made friends with some other au pairs here and one of them, Anne, just happens to be a surfer (and an equestrian!) like me so we go surfing together every chance we can get. Au pairing might seem like an easy job but, mentally and emotionally it isn't and I don't think I could do it without the support of friends and the escape of surfing (or running if I can't surf ;) ).

Surfing with Anne <3

I wouldn't give up this experience or this family though. I really like being in France and I really like the family. I can't imaging being anywhere else right now and I know being here is teaching me things and I hope that I will have a positive impact on this family as well. I know that I am here for a reason and I don't want to waste my time here in wishing for things to change.

Exploring the coast on an evening run

Biarritz et Barcelone

The French are serious about their vacation and the kids get two weeks off every couple of months. Normally that means more work for me since the parents are still working and I have to be with the kids, but for the last round of vacation the parents took the second week off and I had the chance to travel! I haven't been so good about blogging since I've been in France and this post is about two weeks late but I wanted to write it anyway.

It was hard deciding where to go - I mean, I could've gone pretty much anywhere in Europe - but it just so happened that my sister, Beth, was going to Spain around the same time and I had talked with one of my friends here about going to Barcelona (although she didn't end up coming) so I decided on Barcelona. I had a few days free before Beth arrived so I figured I'd stop somewhere along the way since Barcelona is about 10 hours from here if you go direct and most trains don't. I chose Biarritz 'cause I'd heard it's a really beautiful place... and it's known for it's surf. ;) So I took a board (which the family kindly let me borrow) and got the train to Biarritz.

Basque country

In my imagination, I would be staying at a hostel within walking distance to the beach. I would surf at least two times a day and in the evenings I would relax with a beer and good food and talk with the other surfers from around the world who had come to Biarritz to surf. Of course, it would be sunny and hot and the waves would be perfect. In reality, I had to take a bus from the hostel to the nearest beach and I was the only surfer in the hostel. In fact, I was practically the only person in the hostel (okay, I exaggerate, maybe there were a dozen people). The first day I was there, the waves were almost 3 meters (about 9 feet) which is not exactly my level. But since I had bought an unlimited bus pass I could go anywhere I wanted, right? In theory... Unfortunately, the buses only run every hour or half hour in the off-season and they don't necessarily stop close to the beach. But I asked the people at the hostel desk (they looked like surfers and seemed to know what they were talking about...) where I could find some slightly smaller waves. They suggested a place called Bidart so I took my board and boarded the bus to Bidart. After about 30 minutes, we arrived at a small town which, as the driver informed me, was Bidart plage (beach).

Bidart Plage

I quickly realized that I would not be surfing there as the waves were huge and rather messy. But I had heard about another plage nearby so I set off to find it, hoping it would be better. After climbing a huge hill, toting my surfboard - which acted more like a large sail - all the way I found the other beach. There were still no surfable waves but there was a surf club unpacking boards from a van. I asked a lady where they had surfed and she rattled off a list of names, none of which I understood clearly enough to repeat but I figured I could find them on a map. I walked back to the bus stop and consulted the map. Saint Jean du Luz sounded familiar so I took that bus. However, there were about six different stops under that name so I just got off at one that looked like it was near the water. I found the tourist info center and was informed that it was on a bay and, thus, there were no waves but I could walk up the coast to the open beach. I must have walked at least five miles and the only waves I found were huge. I finally gave up and slowly made my way back to the bus and then to the hostel. That evening I went into the center of Biarritz to see the Grande Plage and find something to eat. It is really a stunning area and the sunset was absolutely beautiful!

View of the bay at St Jean du Luz

The port at St Jean du Luz

Grande Plage

Sunset over Grande Plage

The next day the waves were significantly smaller and, although I still did quite a bit of walking during the morning, I managed to find some good waves and surfed all afternoon until the sun set. Back at the hostel that evening, I met a Canadian guy while I was in the common room using the internet and we talked for a bit about what we were doing in France and then he started playing his guitar. Some people heard it from the kitchen and came to ask if we wanted to join them in singing and playing guitar and of course, talking travel. It was so nice and I met a lovely French girl who had been an au pair in the U.S.! It was cool to hear the opposite perspective and to be able to share a connection like that.

The day after, I set off for Barcelona. My train wasn't scheduled until 2:30 pm but I left early because I had to check out of the hostel anyway. Luckily I did because, upon arriving at the train station, I learned that there had been a problem on the tracks and all the trains were delayed 1-2 hours! Since I had a connection in Irun (a Spanish town just over the border with France) the man at the station recommended I take the next train to Hendaye, France and walk "15 minutes" to the station in Irun. Although walking was the last thing I wanted to do after walking about 30 miles over the past two days with my backpack and surfboard, I accepted his advice. It was easy enough to find the town of Irun but the station was nowhere to be seen. It's amazing how fast the language changes when you cross the border. No one seemed to speak French. I asked for directions at a store and the woman explained them using Spanish with a few French words and lots a pictures and gestures. It worked and I made it to the station but as I had some time to spare, I found a cafe and sat for a while. About an hour before my train was scheduled to depart, I made my way back to the station and I was sitting outside waiting for my train when a man who worked there came up to me and asked if the surfboard was mine. I said "yes" and he said "No, not possible" "The train is too small". I must have stared at him for at least a minute and then I attempted to explain that I had already taken it on three different trains without any problems but all he said was "No, not possible" "I don't speak English, but no".  So I tried the man at the desk. He told me "You can walk to the station in France to get the money for your ticket". I tried to ask if there were other options but I got the same response every time. I tried the other man again, still no. And again. Finally he found someone who could speak English and she translated for me and he agreed to let me buy another seat just for my board. Of course, when I finally boarded the train, it was basically empty and my board would have easily fit in the overhead storage or the luggage racks. I'm sure there are lovely Spanish people, but I have to say from my experience, I prefer the French...

I made it to Barcelone that night, took the metro to the Airbnb, and spent some time talking to the hosts while I waited for Beth to arrive. In case you don't know what an Airbnb is, it's a room or an appartement which the owners rent out to travelers. Our hosts were an Argentinian couple who work as lifeguards in Barcelona during the summer and travel the rest of the year - not bad! It was great to reunite with my sister and travel together which was something we wanted to do for a long time. We spent the next two days exploring the city by metro, bus, and foot. We walked over 10 miles each day but we really made the most of our time there. We admired the works of Gaudi at Sagrada Familia, Casa Battló, and Park Güell, took in the city's history (recent and not-so-recent) on the old streets, at the Olympic Stadium, and at the Castell de Montjuïc, enjoyed the beautiful weather on the beach and at the Park de la Ciutadella, and savored the delicious and inexpensive food at the Mercat de la Boqueria and various local eateries. On our last night we watched an amazing light display at the Magic Fountain. Beth left early the next day and I wandered and the city a bit more while waiting for the bus to Paris.

Parc de la Ciutadella

An old Roman fortress

Sagrada Familia

Sagrada Familia

Parc Güell

Castell Montjuïc

View of the harbor from Castell Montjuïc

The magical fountain display

I spent the afternoon and night on the bus and, between a screaming baby and the bus's constant stops, I slept very little, and arrived at 5:15 am the next day in Paris. Since I had the whole day before my train back to Lorient, I walked around Paris and explored some places I hadn't yet seen, like Sacre Cœur and the Luxembourg Jardins. My train trip back to Lorient only made me more sure that I would never again take my surfboard on public transportation. Between the annoyed looks of other passengers and the fact that I had to stand in the corridor with my board because there were no empty seats and there was not enough space in the luggage rack, it was not the most pleasant journey. Luckily, someone let me have their seat for the last hour or so until people got off  and more seats opened up. Upon arriving at the train station around 11:30 pm, I found my car wouldn't start and I had to take a taxi home. Needless to say, the next day back to work was a bit rough but traveling is like that and it was worth it.

Luxembourg jardins

Premières

Since arriving in France, I've had a lot of firsts. Not to sound arrogant, but it felt fitting to write the title in French since I am in France, I love the language and it's a huge part of my life here. If you didn't already know, it means "firsts"... 

Today is my first full day as an au pair and I am already exhausted. I love France so far and everyone I have met has been wonderful but it is very tiring mentally. Even though I have traveled quite a lot on my own and feel quite comfortable with it, living in a different language is difficult. I have felt like an idiot more times than I can count already. Like when I walked into a restaurant in Paris and was greeted by the host in French and I stared blankly back because I knew he had asked a question but he talked so fast I couldn’t understand what it was and under pressure I couldn’t even think of a response. Fortunately he was kind and patient as I struggled my way through being seated, ordering, and paying completely in French and, actually, I walked out of the restaurant feeling pretty good because it was my first interaction in France entirely in French and I had managed to make myself understood and to understand him. The first few days have been incredibly challenging and while understanding and speaking is getting easier, it still requires my complete concentration to carry on a simple conversation.

My view from the restaurant where I enjoyed
a delicious meal and the sense of accomplishment
from my first exchange entirely in French

Language is not the only struggle. For some reason, I find it especially difficult to navigate here. Normally, I feel like I am pretty good at finding my way around but here there are so many small winding roads and everything looks the same to me and I feel like I am constantly getting lost. I can usually wander my way around a city and succeed in getting where I want to go but in Paris I could walk for miles in the wrong direction before realizing it. Maybe it’s because it’s such an old city that it doesn’t have a clear plan like most of the cities I’ve visited or maybe because it’s in a foreign language I have to go through an extra step in my head, but whatever it is, I’ve found myself lost more than a few times over the past several days. Fortunately, I have local connections and they have helped me enormously!

So many winding paths and narrow passageways!

All that aside, France is great. Paris is hands-down the most beautiful city I have ever seen and I think I could spend days wandering around its lovely streets. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a ton of time there when I arrived since I got in on Thursday morning and took the train to Lorient on Saturday afternoon, but I managed to see the Eiffel Tower (from the bottom), Notre Dame and the Louvre (from the outside), the Palais Royal (Royal Palace), and the jardin des Tuileries (a huge garden near the palace), et les invalides (the old military hospital). I met my penpal, Paul, of about six years for the first time and he took the time to show me the city and help me navigate on my first day in the country. He and his girlfriend kindly let me stay in their apartment outside of Paris and helped me feel at home in a foreign country and made my first few days in France much easier and even more enjoyable! 

On the Seine

Le jardin de tuileries 

Le jardin de tuileries 

Les victoires

Le Louvre

The courtyard of Palais Royal

Palais Royal

Notre Dame

Les invalides 

I am quickly learning that many of the French stereotypes are true, but not all of them. I have yet to meet a French person – even a Parisian – who struck me as rude or snobby. Maybe it’s because I always try to speak in French and they take pity on me, even if I butcher it or fail to make sense, but everyone has been friendly and helpful and seems genuinely kind.  They do, however, like their bread. And, yes, by bread I mean French baguettes (although there are many other varieties of bread and bread-like products to be had). They do buy it fresh from the boulangerie (bakery) and eat it with at least every meal. It really is good but I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much bread in my life.  I think 90% of my diet since arriving here has been bread, cheese, and some form of chocolate…. Wine is also a big deal here, which is okay by me. I tried vin chaud for the first time, which I think is originally German and known as Glühwein, and it is delicious. It’s hot red wine with cinnamon and orange and is somewhat similar to mulled cider. I also had raclette for the first time. It’s hard to explain but it’s sort of like and open oven that sits on the table and you put in mini pans with cheese, let the cheese melt and bubble, and then pour it over potatoes, meat, etc. and it’s quite good. They are also lots of baked goods particular to France and each region has its own. Bretagne (the region I’m in) is known for its crêpes (among other things) and they have both salty and sweet. In fact, we will be having the savory ones for supper tonight!

I'm staying in a town called Ploemeur and the family I’m living and working with is great and have made me feel very welcome. We have a lot in common – we both like the outdoors, outdoor sports, and traveling to name a few – and I think I will fit in well here. The house is about a 10 minute walk from the beach and there are some beautiful trails nearby that I can’t wait to explore. The area is beautiful with lots of forests and farms and really old, lovely buildings and stone-paved roads. Although most of the buildings are from the 50s since much of the area was demolished by World War II, there are still a few ancient houses and the area still has an old, rustic feel and an inherent beauty. I guess it’s to be expected since it is January, but the weather is not that great at the moment. It’s warmer than New England this time of year with averages around 50°F but lately it has been excessively windy with frequent heavy rains and occasional hail. Nevertheless, I’m excited to see what the next months hold and to get to know this family, this place, and the locals here!

The coast a short drive from where I'm living

L'église (the church) in the center of Ploemeur

Ploemeur

To France

Well, I am going to France. I honestly didn't let myself believe it was actually happening until I got my visa from the consulate two days ago but now I am sitting at the airport waiting to board a flight to Reykjavík and then to Paris.

My view

This trip has been the most difficult one to arrange and also the one that I've been most hesitant about. There was never any doubt in my mind that I would go to France someday and I most certainly wanted to go but, after two years out of college, I feel like I don't fit into that "just out of college and figuring out the next thing" bracket anymore. New Zealand and Australia just kind of happened, almost accidentally. It was logistically fairly easy to get there (apply for a visa online, buy a ticket, then do whatever the heck you want when you get there), but I had to make France happen and I almost feel guilty about it. Shouldn't I be getting a masters degree or a permanent 9-5 job? Shouldn't I be renting an apartment and buying a car? It doesn't matter that I don't really want most of these things, it's what I should be doing, right?  No, I don't truly think that's what I should be doing and even though many of my friends and family are very supportive and encouraging (thank you!), some aren't and the classic image of American success is a good, stable job, a nice house, a car and a family, which is basically entirely the opposite of my life. So even though I would choose the life of traveler every time, I definitely feel the pressure, especially when I'm home.


But I believe that God has a plan and what's meant to happen will happen. There are plenty of reasons why this could have not happened. I had to find a way to get a job, which I decided was to be an au pair. Then I had to find a family and it took months to find the right one. Next we had to make up a contract and come up with all the necessary paperwork. Every document had to be the original so this involved a lot of mailing things back and forth for signatures, etc. with only a little over a month to get everything done. Then I had to make an appointment with the consulate in New York City (and they are often fully booked months in advance) and actually go to New York and apply for the visa, leave my passport there and go back and get my passport two weeks later, which was a bit of a fiasco in itself. Yet, somehow, it all worked out and I am on my way to France.

Walking around NY before getting my passport

I'll be spending a few days in Paris and before taking the train north and west to a small town called Ploemeur where I will be living with a family, helping out with the kids, and helping them learn English as they help me learn French. It's been about 8 months since I've traveled internationally and, although I've had some amazing adventures and great times in the US I'm excited to experience a new place and a different culture once again. I know it's going to be challenging; I'm going to have learn to communicate in a new language (my French is passable but speaking and understanding is still hard work!) and get used to living with a different family and in an unfamiliar place once again. But, of course, I travel because I love new and unfamiliar things!

Unexpected Adventures: A Day in the City

I think sometimes the best adventures are the ones I never planned for. Maybe it's because I don't have such high expectations for them - or any at all - but they can be surprisingly great. Yesterday, I spent the day in New York City by myself. I didn't actually really want to go to the city but I am applying for my French visa and they require you to apply in person at the consulate for your region. Since I'm from Connecticut, I had to go to New York and since I hadn't been in a while, I figured I'd make a day of it. 

Looking out at the city from Central Park

Since my appointment was at 10:30 and it takes two and a half to three hours by train to get there, I figured I'd leave myself plenty of time and take the 6:24 train from New London. Due to a combination of not leaving the house early enough, missing the turn for the station, and traffic, I got to the station just minutes before the train was scheduled to arrive. I hurried up to the counter, asked for a ticket and was filled with increasing horror as the attendant explained that the 6:24 was the high-speed, business-class train, which required reservations and didn't normally sell single-trip tickets and that if I wanted to buy a ticket it would cost about four times the amount of a regular ticket. He informed me that the next regular train would leave at 6:50 and would arrived in Grand Central Terminal at 10:13 which would give me 15 minutes to find a connecting train, go the thirty blocks down to the consulate, and find the office, and I knew that if I was late I would not only be late for my appointment but I wouldn't be let into the building until 11 (if at all) since they only open the doors every half hour "for security reasons". So I decided to suck it up and pay the ghastly sum. 

The train would have been quite nice with its deluxe seats and free wifi if I hadn't spent the entire trip in shock from what I had just spent on a two-hour train ride. I did get into the city in record time - 2 hours and 20 minutes to be exact - which meant that I had over an hour to get from Penn Station on W 31st Street to the consulate on E 74th Street. I started out in the direction of the consulate thinking I would find a subway station soon but between not seeing one nearby and not wanting to spend any more money, I decided to just walk. An hour and twenty minutes and a small detour later (I had to find my own way since the directions on my phone weren't working and I ended up walking up and down one street twice because I second guessed myself), I arrived, sweating and tired, at what looked like an apartment building flying a French flag. 

The appointment itself went quite smoothly and was over pretty quickly. Afterwards, I walked across the street to Central Park and wandered at a much slower pace. It is amazing the difference between the city outside and the park within. It was so quiet and peaceful in the park. People walked quietly and the loudest sounds were the sounds of the birds. It didn't even feel right to talk on the phone while walking through. I know from having been there that it is much busier in the summer but yesterday must have been a nearly perfect day in Central Park - not too hot or too cold and quiet enough that it feels like an escape from the hustle and bustle of the city. 

Walking through Central Park

Once I felt sufficiently relaxed, I walked back into city center and admired the bright lights of the billboards in Times Square and on Broadway. As I walked, I people-watched and listened to all the different accents and languages being spoken and wondered about all the stories of the people in New York and what brought them there. To some it's a chance for a fresh start, to others it's the daily grind, and to others it's a spectacle and a wonder of the world. I feel like I'm pretty familiar with New York but I definitely saw it differently than I have before. It didn't feel as big or as foreign as it used to. Maybe it's because I've spent a lot more time in different cities and had to find my way around foreign cities but I didn't feel as out of place and overwhelmed as I remembered feeling there before. I've also found that I'm much better at navigating cities and unfamiliar places than I used to be and it's kind of a fun challenge figuring out how to get around in a new place!

Some of the older buildings past the consulate

Walking on Broadway

By mid afternoon I had had enough of walking and decided to make my way towards Grand Central Station. Grand Central is an attraction in itself with a plethora of shops, cafés, a food court, and even a mini upscale market. I bought a coffee and sat for a while and then perused a few shops and eyed the delicious-looking produce, chocolates, and baked goods at the market longingly before taking the last train out before peak hour. Despite not especially wanting to go to New York, it turned out to be a pretty nice day!

The Main Lobby

Grand Central Terminal