French Stories that would be really bad bedtime stories; Part Two

Story Two: The tale of two cities. Or more like one city. Actually just a provence. Aix en Provence.


Sometimes I catch myself realising I'm in France. It's like I can visualise myself turning to look straight down and popping out the top of my head surging upwards in an ariel view of this house, of this little down, of this provence, of all of France, Europe and so far out that I can see the world spin round to show Australia purely to emphasise to me how far from everything I know I am. These times are slightly surreal because it doesn't feel as different as I would have thought it would be since it seems no matter where I go it's not like I outrun who I am (not that I particularly want to, I'm loads of fun). And then, other times, I've scarcely the time to say to myself "My God this place is beautiful. I'm. In. France." before the next amazing site is before my eyes. Aix on Provence is one such town that inspires these moments :)

They don't suspect a thing... now I can sneak up on them and be all Australian mwahaha

 Commence the arbitrary dumping of photos...

They say it is the face of a woman who was waiting for her man to return home for so long that she turned to stone as she waited and waited...but he never returned

Turns out he never returned because he forgot to buy milk and he knew she'd be pissed so he didn't want to face her. He also forgot his legs somewhere or potentially traded them for that lovely loincloth full of fruit
(Yeah...mayyyy have made up that story...possibly...but it's probably true)

Actually the more I think about it the more I wonder why this lovely house was decorated with such tortured looking men...

This photo doesn't do it justice, but it's a stunning garden

I could easily die happy if I did nothing but traverse little streets like this for the rest of my life

Actually I would probably die quickly, hungry and confused why I was doomed to carrying through on a flippant remark I made in a blog... but still... it'd be pretty awesome for the first day or two

So now that I've dumped some photos on you, I'll admit that these photos in no way do this little quaint town justice. It's otherwise known as the "village of water" and has 70 fountains in it (because 71 would just have been crazy, but 70 is a totally acceptable way to spend the city's money) and is just utterly gorgeous. It's also home to one of the main uni's down here. I am seething with jealousy (how extremely negative does that sound!) Okay, I'm more like...hmmm... the kid outside in the cold with his nose pressed up against the window of the warm bakery, looking inside longingly (why did I make myself a boy in the metaphor? Well, why not). anyway so to capture the experience more aptly I stuck to the pattern and made you a movie. But, since it only goes for a minute or so, sticking with the time travelling nature of my stories, I combined it with the film of our trip around Marseille's Notre Dame a few days later.


Interlude between Story Two and Three; The story of Lisa's exhaustion


I've been really enjoying seeing all of these old buildings and the style of these towns where everything is this typical provincial look, and I'm so grateful to the various people who have taken me there and around but there's a part of me that is getting restless to go somewhere alone. It's exhausting trying to speak French all the time and plus I think there's a different experience to absorbing the essence of somewhere beautiful with a group of people and on your own. And part of me just wants to go spend the day walking around the town with my own thoughts without worrying about being an imposition or rude to anyone I'm with. It's a weird desire since I'm constantly forced to be in my own head here anyway since the language barrier frequently isolates me from a lot of conversations. For once in my life I'm genuinely forced to shut up and just sit there. It's a pretty bizarre experience to feel like you can't express yourself at all to the people around you. Even the people I have here who can speak a little English and give me a break now and again and let me speak English, don't understand all that much and I know as I try to talk, they aren't reeeeally understand what I'm trying to say. They understand most/some of it, but I know I can't really talk naturally and they just don't quite really get it. It's a little bit draining really to be honest, especially since anyone who knows me knows I love having discussions about things and delving into thoughts about complicated interesting things, I like talking to people and generally like making people laugh by making jokes. I like being expressive and engaging and it's ridiculously challenging over here. It's not so bad if anyone directly engages me one on one in a discussion or a few people chat with me and forgive some of my mistakes. Then I can keep an upbeat conversation with laughter and chatter going in French. We've had some good nights like that at cafe's or the pub with a group of Celine's friends I really like. But when I keep meeting new people with Celine I feel really rude having to just sit there like a weird 3rd-silent-Australian-wheel for ages while they talk at a speed that just blurs into white noise for me. Those are the times I either just want to hide somewhere, close the doors, take a deep breath and blow it out slowly and just be on my own for a while (I haven't rubbed my face and sighed this many times in my life) or I wish I could speak French (obviously this option is the more appealing...but the less realistic in that moment). Some nights I'm able to keep it going and keep in good spirits and other nights I'm just too drained and want to recharge on my own. Funnily enough it's taken me two nights to get this post together. Last night when I started this I was pretty drained and didn't really feel like sitting for ages in the midst of French chatter I couldn't understand when I could be reading or something instead, tonight however, I'm in a good mood haha, it's a nice reminder that it always rolls back around to me being re-energised again. I know this may sound ridiculous since it's only been one week (IT'S ONLY BEEN ONE WEEK!?!?) But I've been so busy and done so much, I could swear it's been 2-3 weeks or so. I don't want to end this section seeming to come off as saying I'm not having a good time or I'm exhausted, but I'm also not about to lie and say I'm constantly cheery and full of energy. I am having an amazing time, but amazing times are exhausting. And the truth is, some days I'm getting exhausted... But I'm happy. I really am. :) (Look at that, I couldn't help it anyway!)


The DVD version of the book; Remember that video I mentioned?
Yeah so it turns out I got carried away making that "short" video, as I always tend to do when I start making videos, and it is now epic. The next post will soley be France, brought to you in VHS form...