Bonjour à tous!
I hope that you are having a great weekend!
So this week's post won't be as long as my previous ones, as this week was pretty calm so I didn't take many pictures. Within the next few weeks I'll be focusing on Rennes, my classes (which start on February 1st), my host family, and Brittany. For now, however, I just wanted to share a moment that made me happy.
Yesterday (Saturday the 23rd) I met up with a few friends to explore the big market that takes place every Saturday (don't worry, there'll be a post about this soon, too).
I decided that I didn't want to just hop on a bus like I've been doing every morning to get to class. Instead, I wanted to challenge my navigational skills and actually walk the 20 minutes to our meet-up spot (my bus also takes 20 minutes [or more] so it's kind of ridiculous that I don't walk every day, but what can I say, navigating stresses me out and buses are easy). So I made sure to leave with a bit of extra time, just in case I got lost. As soon as I stepped out of the house I was met with an impressive wall of fog.
Anyone who has spent time in Selinsgrove, PA (where my college is) knows that it can get extremely foggy. My friends and family in ME have received more than a few pictures taken on my walk to work, when I realized that I could not, in fact, see the school where I work due to the thickness of the fog. Similarly, in Maine fog can roll in off of the sea and make it a pain to travel.
Fog and I know each other well.
As I stepped onto this foggy street in France, I felt strangely at home. It is truly the little things that remind you of home -- or that point out the differences. While the fog did make it a bit harder for me to see road signs or know that I was headed in the right direction, it was a wonderful way to start the day, because it reminded me that, while the language, culture, customs, etc., here are extremely different from Selinsgrove, PA or southern ME, some things remain constant.
I hope that you are having a great weekend!
So this week's post won't be as long as my previous ones, as this week was pretty calm so I didn't take many pictures. Within the next few weeks I'll be focusing on Rennes, my classes (which start on February 1st), my host family, and Brittany. For now, however, I just wanted to share a moment that made me happy.
Yesterday (Saturday the 23rd) I met up with a few friends to explore the big market that takes place every Saturday (don't worry, there'll be a post about this soon, too).
I decided that I didn't want to just hop on a bus like I've been doing every morning to get to class. Instead, I wanted to challenge my navigational skills and actually walk the 20 minutes to our meet-up spot (my bus also takes 20 minutes [or more] so it's kind of ridiculous that I don't walk every day, but what can I say, navigating stresses me out and buses are easy). So I made sure to leave with a bit of extra time, just in case I got lost. As soon as I stepped out of the house I was met with an impressive wall of fog.
Anyone who has spent time in Selinsgrove, PA (where my college is) knows that it can get extremely foggy. My friends and family in ME have received more than a few pictures taken on my walk to work, when I realized that I could not, in fact, see the school where I work due to the thickness of the fog. Similarly, in Maine fog can roll in off of the sea and make it a pain to travel.
Fog and I know each other well.
As I stepped onto this foggy street in France, I felt strangely at home. It is truly the little things that remind you of home -- or that point out the differences. While the fog did make it a bit harder for me to see road signs or know that I was headed in the right direction, it was a wonderful way to start the day, because it reminded me that, while the language, culture, customs, etc., here are extremely different from Selinsgrove, PA or southern ME, some things remain constant.
For those of you who have not already guessed it, le brouillard is fog, a challenging foe when driving, but sometimes a comforting companion on a nice walk into town.
À la prochaine,
Evelyn
À la prochaine,
Evelyn