Allez les Bleus!

As I lay in my bed (I was feeling too ill to step in to the hallway to our makeshift lounge), I shouted to my flatmate who was watching the France v. Brazil football match “on gagne?” (“are we winning?”) but then corrected myself to “vous gagnez?” (“are you, you the French, winning?”) That slip of the tongue, the “we”, including myself as a French person got me thinking could I live in France long term?

I can name at least two of the American assistants who are both looking in to jobs and college/university courses here in order to be able to stay in France for a least another year after the assistantship is over. (They are both assistants for the second time this year so if they are successful in their hunts for finding something for next year that’s at least 3 consecutive years they’re giving to France.)

Apart from the fact that I couldn’t do the assistantship for a second year because I have to go back to university next year but I don’t think I’d want to. Granted, I love it here and I have decided to work here (well not Dijon but in France) over the summer, but I still like knowing that come September I will be back in England, the country I was born.

One of the Americans’ reasons for wanting to stay is the quality of life France offers compared to, they feel, the USA, or at least the cities they live in.

Now, I can think of many reasons why France offers good quality of life, the following for starters:

1. 35 hour working week
2. 2 hour lunch breaks
3. Fantastic food and great coffee
4. Never being far from the countryside so you can enjoy the great outdoors
5. Great social benefits – housing, childcare etc.
6. National health care
7. Long summer holidays
8. The governments reimbursing 50% of your travel costs to work
9. The regular strikes meaning the country stops for a little bit so you get even more time off work
10. Great shopping....the list could go on!

But a lot of these benefits the UK has to offer too, as a fellow European country, and the sunny outdoors, shopping, cheese based dishes and cheap but good wine, well I can always hop on the eurostar for a visit!

Don’t get me wrong, I love France and I love the French language and it makes me very happy that I live here and that I speak their language every day and I’m in no rush to leave, there’s still a long time until the beginning of September when I will be coming back to England for good (or at least for the foreseeable future) but there’s nowhere like home!:)

Un weekend à Valance

In a similar fashion to last weekend I finished my Friday classes this week to hop straight on a train, this time to Valance. [That is Valance-sur-Rhône in France and not Valencia in Spain as one of my French friend’s thought I was going to when I said I was going to Valance. (Valance is Valencia in French.)]

My dear friend Anna picked me back from the train station and took me to her host family’s house. Her host family comprises of a mum and dad (who are quite young at only 27) and 4 (yes 4) beautiful little girls aged 6 years, 4 years, 2 years and 4 months. As I work in a secondary school and I don’t live in a host family I’ve had very little (if any contact) with young children during my time in France so I had a lot to learn. Like, what on earth is this toddler saying to me? I don’t speak baby language! I already knew faire dodo (go to beddy-byes) as my flatmate says it sometimes is she is feeling particularly sleepy, and therefore childish, before bed. And the word couche (nappy) had gone in from just wondering round supermarkets (and apparently finding myself in the Pamper aisle?!) And j’ai un bobo (I’ve got a baddy) was self explanatory as even English babies use that word. And thankfully anything else Anna or one of the older girls translated.

The other new cultural thing that I had to get used to was when people in Valance faire la bise (do the French greeting of kissing cheeks) they do 3 not 2! As I went to say ‘hello’ to the host dad and pulled away after 2 kisses he was like ‘oh, right, ok, only 2’. ‘Oh!’ I exclaimed, ‘its 3 here! Sorry, it’s only 2 in Dijon!’ ‘That’s ok,’ he smiled, ‘it’s only 2 in Paris too and that’s where I come from.’ Phew, he wasn’t offended!

Something else I learnt this weekend is that my spoken French isn’t quite as beautiful as it could be! I had already made a mental note not to use the likes of putain, merde, chienne, ça fait shit (if you don’t speak French that was just a nice collection of swear words for you) and made every effort to cut down my mon dieu! and jésus! usage as the Christian family that were so very kindly hosting me for the weekend wouldn’t have appreciated any swearing or blasphemy and anyway these words shouldn’t be said around children. But when I exclaimed that something was dégueulasse (slag for disgusting) the slightly shocked faces of the parents (there were no kids about at the time) followed by a laugh (thankfully they found it more funny than being offended) and then Anna saying “Katie! I don’t think we’re allowed to say that!” made me realise that I never use the more savoury (pun, get it?) word for disgusting – dégoûtant, but perhaps I should! After all, I am here to learn la lange de Molière and not the language of lycéens (secondary school students) in an inner-city comprehensive (which is apparently the type of language that is going in!) I mean I even thought it was appropriate to crack a joke defining the finer details of the fact that I would be domir avec (sleeping in the same proximity as) and not se coucher avec (sleeping with) Anna – that’s hardly tasteful after dinner chat!

Anyway, aside from discovering I could make my language a bit more tasteful one of the biggest advantages of being in Valance (apart from hanging out with the lovely Anna obviously!) was being down South! Down South where the sun shines and the birds sing and you have beautiful views of the mountains!

On Saturday, Anna and I took advantage of the lovely weather and went for a walk in the centre of town, looked round the sales and Anna showed me le Champs de Mars et le Kiosque Peynet and the Hôtel de Ville and the Parc Jovet and then we went ice skating with some of Anna’s friends. When Anna said “I’m not very good at ice skating” I agreed with her (saying “no, nor am I!”) and I’m not, I can’t stop, I can’t do anything exciting on the ice, I can just state forward at a reasonable speed. But at first Anna couldn’t actually skate at all but thanks to the help of a lovely Finish girl who probably came out of the womb ice skating Anna was whizzing the ice like everyone else by the end. When then went to one of Anna’s French friends house for an aggressive game of Mooing Families (or whatever the game is called) and some other fast paced games with colours and shapes we then went home for tartiflette and on Sunday we ate raclette – both local dishes based on cheese and I love cheese!

On Sunday we went to church which was more enjoyable than when me and Anna went to church in the Ukraine as my French is better than my Russian so I had much better chance of understanding the service and the songs! After lunch we went to the Château de Crussol which was the ruins of a chateau on top of a mountain, just outside Valence in the Ardèche. It was really fun tromping round the ruins and it was so beautiful on top the mountain with stunning views of the Ardèche and the Drôme and the river Rhône. It made me want the summer job I’ve applied for in the Ardèche even badly (I find out in 2 weeks if I’ve got it.) And it was wonderful to be in such different surroundings to the rural, but rural in a very different way region of Burgundy. And it was fantastic to catch up with Anna and discuss everything from our views on parenting, our philosophies on life and what we plan to do with our degrees and beyond!

On my last day in Valance me and Anna cooked a traditional roast dinner for a family as a thank you for hosting and cooking for me for the weekend (which I really did appreciate, they really were so lovely to me.) And then went for a nice walk along the Rhône before I caught my train back to (cold) Dijon!

From Paris with love...

Hôtel de Ville, Paris

Cathedral Notre Dame, Paris

Me by the Arch de Triomphe, Paris
Didn't really think through the pink hat, yellow tights outfit!

Me outside the Sacre Coeur, Paris
There's that colourful ensemble again!

Some things I Iearnt about Paris this weekend:

• It’s smaller than London but there are a lot more people!
• Its metro system is much more confusing to navigate than London tubes but is much faster and much more reliable and isn’t that far underground so your mobile works in most stations!
• The absolutely massive stores of Louis Vouton , Channel etc. on the Champs-Elysées are very alluring, much more so than the shops on the Kings Road.
• Everything is very far away from each other but thankfully the taxis are a lot cheaper than in London.
• It’s really quite a scary place, but man it’s beautiful and exciting!

Some things I learnt about myself this weekend

• For everything I will miss about Russian as a subject (I have dropped it from my degree title) I will not miss the ‘office politics’ of the department.
• Some of my classmates think my voice is annoying when I go on a rant about something in lectures (and who can blame them? I bet it is annoying!) But apparently I get away with it coz I seemingly know what I’m talking about (questionable.)
• Apparently my attitude to university life (that I am reasonably hard working, and really quite capable but I am not willing to kill myself over my degree coz I quite like having a life too!) hasn’t gone unnoticed by my classmates.
• My ex was fit (obviously I was already well aware of this fact but it was quite nice, in a flattering sort of way, to hear that other people thought this too.)
• Some people at university discuss my figure/shape in the positive way on a regular basis (well that’s very nice, shame I haven’t been swimming training in a very long while so now I’m super unfit!)

So it was Friday early evening and I was very tired from a long day at school but I hopped on a TGV at Dijon Ville than would zoom me to Paris Gare de Lyon to be met by Sam, Lauryn and Vicky, all friends from university. We then took the metro to our hotel it the rougher end of Montmartre – the sort of hotel you could imagine seedy men hiring as the location of sex with a prostitute. But it following my Dad’s rule of thumb on judging hotels (is the shower hot and powerful and is the bed reasonably comfortable?) It passed! The general plan was to have a little pre-drink catch up then grab the metro to an Irish bar near Notre Dame for some drinks and food. What actually happened is that it got quite drunk in our hotel room (got the “please be quiet knock” from the man on reception) and tossed about banter about our Irish families (I was the only one who could not add to this banter). Then quite drunk we walked down the red light district to take a photo of the Moulin Rouge, obviously and then got a kebab and went to bed.

Then at the respectful hour of 11am me and Sam set off to see Paris’s sights (Vicky and Lauryn had gone to Disneyland for the day.) We started at the Sacre Coeur where we met a friend of mine – Ed. Then we went on to the Arch de Triomphe/Champs-Elysées, Hôtel de Ville and finally Notre Dame, with regular stops for food and coffee of course, we are in France after all!

Later me and Sam met Lauryn and Vicky in MacDo and like the QM massive we are went to meet our friend Kyle for his birthday celebrations. However the bar was busy and it was impossible to get served so we went to a quieter bar and had a proper catch up. Lauryn and Vicky then went back to the hotel coz Disney had tired them out but me, Kyle and Sam were in for the long haul! All of our party (including my friend Ed) went on to a club except for me, Kyle, Sam, a Fab and a Ally decided to be more hardcore and get the metro to Montparnasse to a club called Mix for their gay night, however, unfortunately, gay meant men only so we hailed some taxis to Folie’s Pigalle (not far from the Moulin Rouge). I should have guessed what might happen next as Sam has told us the night before that this was the very club she lost Kyle on another night out!

The night started well, Kyle generously paid for us to have our own table and a bottle of vodka and while I sat there being confused as to who was a girl, who was a boy and who was a tranny and whether this club’s main market was gay or straight (and admiring quite a lot of fake boobs) we enjoyed yet more banter and good chat.

But then, Ally, Kyle’s American friend, passed out in her seat coz she was stupidly drunk so quite obviously this was our que to go home! But as we got outside Kyle realised that Fab was still inside with his ticket for the coat check. So Kyle went back in while me and Sam propped Ally up on a street corner giving the police a “everything’s fine” smile every time they circled past and one time when they wound down the window we actually had to tell them in words “tout va bien”. Except tout didn’t va bien coz Kyle was nowhere to be seen and we were cold and fed up of waiting for him. The very nice doorman let me back in to look but I didn’t find him. Then he let me in again and I found him and explained that he really needed to hurry the fuck up coz Ally was in no fit state and we needed help getting her home. So I waited outside, and when he still didn’t come out, I was let in a third time, this time Kyle came as far as the coat check queue but then never actually came outside so I went back a fourth time to be told by the doorman that it wasn’t worth his job to let me back in a fourth time but that my friend had gone back in the club. Fantastic! Me and Sam now had to get a girl we didn’t even know to a bed.

Ally did not know which bus to get home or where her bus stop was so she decided to get a taxi. At first I rang after her screaming “no, you can’t go home by yourself, you’re in no fit state” but then I realised that no taxi was actually gunna take a girl that drunk and besides she couldn’t even remember where she lived! So for a few moments I mildly enjoyed watching her try and get a taxi. So while I was on the other side of the road propping her up and telling every pervy man that walked past and tried to offer us a lift home, each trying to convince me that they were very “respecteux”, yea right! At first I tried telling them “on est bien, elle est bien, tout va bien, on juste attend nos amis, on est bien, vraiment!” Except everything wasn’t fine, there I was in a dodgy part of Paris looking after a drunk girl I didn’t even know so the colder and more tired I got I reverted to telling these me to “fuck off”. Which usually led to them giving me a rant about the rude British, normally I would defend my country but as long as they fucked off I didn’t care what they said.

Meanwhile Sam is on the other side of the road and gets told by a woman to move coz she’s stealing her clients. Turns out this woman is a prostitute and I was very grateful to Sam who in the middle of having a slanging match in French with a whore shouted over to me “are you alright?” seeing the group of men that were surrounding us. Yes I was fine, either “tout va bien” or “fuck off” was getting rid of these men no problem, but was Sam ok, I would have been well scarred it a French whore was shouting at me!

So as it was evidentially clear that Kyle was never gunna materialise it was time to take Ally to a bed. So we zigzagged down (Ally was in no fit state to walk properly) Avenue Pigalle towards our hotel, all the while wondering how we were gunna sneak Ally in to our room without having to pay for an extra guest. When we arrived, at around 4am the man on reception we clearly too blind with tiredness to notice that we had an extra guest when he buzzed us in. So we stumbled up the 2 flights of stairs, Ally fell asleep immediately on the bed and Sam very kindly offered to sleep on the floor, so I made her a make-shift bed of my coat, towels and a spare blanket and then I too collapsed in to bed.

We were woken at 11am by Lauryn and Vicky coming to say their goodbyes. And then, as we had to check out by 12, we too gathered our things, checked out and walked to the metro, we said goodbye to Ally as she went to take line 2 home and we took line 4 to Gare de Nord and then the RER D to Gare de Lyon, grabbed some lunch, giggled about the nights events (which out of the cold are pretty funny) and then I look my train back to Dijon and Sam took a RER back to Corbeil and we parted with promises to see each other soon!

For Sam's side of the story.

Dijon, c'est chouette!

This weekend my friend Sam from university who is doing her assistantship just outside Paris came to visit me and so of course we did the number one touristy thing to do in Dijon – le parcours de la chouette (a walking tour of Dijon where you following little owls that are on the floor.) And when Sam pointed out how many times I said the word chouette in our one day together it got me thinking how Dijonaise I’ve become (or at least how Dijonaise I like to think I’ve become.)

Chouette for those who don’t know means both owl and cool (as in wicked/sick/however kids speak these days) in French. The owl is one of the symbols of Dijon so there is many a blague to be had with “Dijon, c’est chouette”. Or when my flatmate saw my owl themed costume that I wore to my birthday party she commented “tu es chouette colco” (you are cool/an owl, flatmate).

The other reason I am becoming Dijionaise (apart from I crack the chouette blague regularly) is that I couldn’t possibly ever imagine buying wine that wasn’t a Burgundy red, ever again!

I also got thinking about language and despite the massive leaps and bounds I have made with my French I still find myself making embarrassing mistakes that even a year 7 would know (such as pas de, it’s not pas d’un/une/du/de la it’s just pas de with not article, the same goes for beaucoup de). I know this, year 7s know this, yet I still insist on making this mistake several times a day!

But anyway apart from making the chouette joke one too many times, one too many glasses of Burgundy wines and one too many elementary errors in my French I had a super chouette (sorry couldn’t resist) weekend!

I managed to have 2 fairly wild nights out by Dijon standards, yes, that’s right, two, in two days. When was the last time you did that Katie?

I have also spent a small fortune on break plans which involve London, Bristol and Merida (in Spain) and I’m hoping to add skiing to the list too!

Until the next time, friends.....

Bonne Année!

Bonne Année!

Happy New Year!

It has come to my attention that I have not written a blog post for a while so I will attempt to update you all on everything that has been going on since my last post.

The Christmas lights and decorations went up around the city around the end of November (and still haven’t come down!) We kicked off the festive celebrations with the official turning on of the lights which involved a fireworks display to the tune of drumming which was a bit bizarre partly because the fireworks were so close to the Palais des Ducs which rose health and safety questions in my head but the French didn’t seem to mind. Also it was pretty hard to see the fireworks once they got more than about 10 foot in the air because the sky was so grey. However it was lots of fun and we mainly just drank vin chaud and looked round the small but still plenty of fun Christmas market that Dijon has got going on.

The weather has been added to the festive feeling as we had temperatures as low as -6 and a lot of snow. It was very exciting to have proper snow for such a long period of time (although the cold did get to me as I did not pack for such Arctic temperatures). But, now, come January the snow has turned to rain, which does at least mean its above zero!

In the weeks before the Christmas holidays I managed 2 trips. One to Lyon to see the Illumination Festival and one to Strasbourg for the Christmas markets. Lyon was wonderful, as ever (probably my favourite French city) and provided a great opportunity for me to hangout with my flatmate and her friend, and therefore speak lots of French! Strasbourg was awesome and it was really interesting to be in a French city with such a German influence.

Then after rolling out a fairly successful lesson on the topic of Christmas it was time to go home for my Christmas holidays. I spent the first 3 days on my university campus, staying in my brother’s halls which was lots of fun and I managed to catch up with some familiar faces and to meet some new ones and just generally have a great time partying in London. And then it was time to go home home, and after a slightly stressful trek across London and a delay at Victoria Coach station me and my brother made it back to Bristol. And a few days later (after delayed planes) my grandparents joined us from Cyprus and my Dad came back from Australia. Christmas was wonderful and it was lovely to be with my family and friends and to speak English again. It was also, of course, my 22^nd birthday. But shortly after the New Years Eve celebrations it was time to come back.

It was weird at first as I kept thinking people in the street were speaking English, when obviously they were speaking French but as my French flatmate greeted me at the door and we exchanged notes from the holidays I was relieved to find that I can speak French!

My flatmates are both at home this weekend so I was concerned I would be bored/lonely but on Friday Julie (the other assistant at my school) came round for lunch and then we met up with some other assistants for free tea and coffee at Ikea, yesterday it was the birthday of one of the American assistants so we all went out to a bar and I think everyone got drunker than they intended! And then today despite my hangover I cooked a Sunday roast (with trifle for dessert) for a few friends and then we watched a film – a lovely lazy Sunday! And tomorrow both my flatmates come back, yay!

Avoir la gueule de bois = To be hungover

So let me tell you a story that begins with me sat at my computer feeling rather exhausted after making it all the way to the university campus and back and ends with me rolling in to my apartment drunk at 5.30am....

Yesterday I went to the university campus to talk to a man about acting in some educational videos which I’ve been encouraged to participate in as one of the teachers at my school is one of the editors. Last time I went to the university campus it was for the first training day and a coach drove me there so I was slightly concerned that I would get lost having to find my own way there – but I made it! And when I came back I turned on my computer to ponder what to do with the rest of my day – watch ‘Secret Diary of a Call Girl’ or actually start my uni work for once? Only to see a message on that useful social network site whose name begins with an F (but I couldn’t be sure as I don’t check it 5 times a day!) from Rosie, (the British Council Assistant from last year at the same school as me who I befriended virtually in the summer and rather stalked in order to find out about life in Dijon before coming here. But it’s ok, Rosie, I know you stalk me too, you told me yourself you’ve read my blog!) The message was to say that she was in Dijon and would I like to meet for coffee in an hour or two and come to a house party/gathering tonight. The answer to both these questions was obviously YES!

We went for coffee/hot chocolate in my favourite cafe and had a lively chat about all the teachers at Hippolyte. I can only imagine that it was a bit weird for Rosie to hear all about the teachers and students at the place she worked at for the best part of a year but since then has been to Madrid and gone back to uni so often it must feel like a life time ago (how weird it is to think that the roles will be reversed in twelve months time!)

I can now add another person to my growing list of friends at the University of Bristol (the list stands at 5 people, 4 of which I have met in Dijon). Now as a local I obviously have certain stereotypes about University of Bristol students – namely that they are all really rahh (that is that the girls wear Pearls Pumps and Pashminas or Uggs boots and they dress in Jack Wills and they went to private school and they’re probably quite rich) and they go out to places like (the Lizard) Lounge, PooNaNas and Umbargo or just generally anywhere on the Triangle and don’t mix with the plebs who go to Syndicate or Panache. And while stereotypes wouldn’t exit if they didn’t hole some truth, I can happily confirm that all the Bristol students I know are lovely lovely people who have contributed in a very positive way to my Dijon experience. So I might think twice now next time I’m out in Bristol and some girl is drunk on the floor before tutting ‘eugh, Bristol students’ and I might instead tut ‘eugh, idiot’.

So now we’ve got that out the way – on to the soiree! After coffee I went home for some dinner and to watch some film which was basically just about getting high and although I was very comfy on the sofa I forced myself to go out determined not to miss an opportunity to meet some real French people who live in Dijon. The gathering was being hosted by Rosie’s (French) boyfriend and his flatmates and friends in the flat Rosie lived in last year. I didn’t really know what to expect but everyone was so lovely to me and kept on asking me lots of questions and keeping me involved in the conversations. And several drinks later we were dancing round the room in costume to the classics of Britney, Spice Girls and Michael Jackson. I had a brilliant time and it was great to finally meet Rosie in person and to meet all her lovely French friends and I rolled in at 5.30am feeling very drunk but happy to have met some lovely people and with a promise that there will be another soiree soon I am finally starting to live like a student in Dijon!

God Bless France and its Bank Holidays!

I’ve come to accept that you essentially do nothing as a language assistant. Twelve hours a week is the minimum number of hours a week I work at the on-campus coffee shop when I’m at uni and that’s on top of my studies and all my swimming and theatre stuff. It was also the number of hours I fitted in working at my local supermarket on top on studying for my A levels and partying too much for a minor (but then, hey, I come from Bristol!) But twelve hours a week when you have nothing else to do is really nothing!

My timetable dictates that I have the odd few hours during the week and then a full day Friday which means I do nothing all week and then I come home stressed and tired on a Friday like the rest of the working world. Sure, there is prep to do but as a walking-talking resource my prep mainly involves finding an article and then writing a few questions to prise a few English sentences out of French teenagers – easy. I also privately tutor a boy once a week which takes more prep as the lesson is 2 hours and not 1 hour as my classes at school are. I have to admit that one of the reasons I have it so easy is because I am at a lycee (sort of like Sixth Form) so my main role is to just get the kids talking and practicing their English – which is already of a fairly good level. I’m sure if I was at a college (years 7-10) or an ecole maternelle (primary school) I would have to be much more creative about my lessons and spend more time planning as things like games and songs would be more important.

So what do I do when I’m not doing the world’s easiest job you ask? I enjoy myself! I’m starting to feel a bit guilty about enjoying myself so much when my French flatmates work so hard. One of my flatmates is a first year medic and spends all her time revising for the concours which is basically a load of exams and interviews to see if you can cut it as a medic – sort of like an Oxbridge entrance interview on crack. In France it’s not all that hard to get in to uni as long as you pass the bac (sort of like A levels) but then your first year sucks as you have to prove that you can make the cut. I’m told once first year is over and you’ve (hopefully) passed the concours its all plain sailing on your route to become a doctor – how can this be? Doesn’t it just get harder?!?! So when I’m sleeping my housemate is already up and revising. My other housemate is a sixth year medic and so is already basically a doctor so he gets up early and comes back late and works super hard at a hospital (but when he’s not at work we hang out and watch movies which is nice.)

In contrast to my flatmates I spend my days shopping, going for coffee or meals out with friends, going to the cinema and being a tourist and I spend my evenings in bars.

Now on to the title of this entry – only 2 weeks ago did we have a week off for Toussaint (All Saints’) and then this Thursday we had more time off because it was Remembrance Day (that’s a public holiday in France) and then Friday was a pont (lit: bridge, but what is means is that coz the Bank Holiday fell on a Thursday we get Friday off.) I don’t have classes on Tues and Weds anyway so this week I just had class on Monday! Awesome! So what did I do with another week off?

On Tuesday I went clothes shopping. On Wednesday I had tutoring and then met up with a friend to make a vague start on our Year Abroad Project then went to a bar in the evening. On Thursday I went to the cinema to see Les Petits Mouchoirs – if you speak French I can highly recommend this film! I welled up at the end but my friend Kirsty was full on blubbing! It was a very sad film but also hilarious in different parts – it was fab! On Thursday me and another friend went up the Dijon Tower and despite the bad weather had a fine view of the city and then we went for hot chocolate to warm our souls up! Then it was one of the other assistants birthday so we went out to yet another bar. Another assistant friend had a friend from uni who is doing a work placement in Paris over for the weekend but as he’s not allowed guests his friend stayed at mine for 2 nights. After coming back at 2am-ish me and Ed stayed up talking until gone 4am and then had to get up at 9am as I had a train to catch! So despite being very very tired I met Kirsty, Will, Lindsay and Julie (and later 2 assistants from Auxerre) at the station to go to Besancon – a nearby city. We climbed up a massive hill to go to an old fort thing which has been turned in to a zoo – I felt like a proper kid getting excited by all the ‘ammimals’ but it was lots of fun and I had a lovely steak at the overpriced restaurant! We then wondered around the town which was very pretty and reminded us in parts of Dijon but we also counted our lucky stars that we were placed in Dijon and not Besancon! We then returned for yet another night out. This was meant to be a ‘wild’ night out but what actually happed was we enjoyed the cheap cocktails then quite a few people bailed understandably due to tiredness and then us ‘hardcore’ lot went to a night club but didn’t get in coz one of the guys was wearing a (very nice) polo shirt and not a shirt shirt (wtf, its Dijon not London! Why the strict dress code?) Anyway we were so knackered we were delighted by the thought of bed, we came back and slept like babies! And that brings you up to speed! All in all a very fun weekend!

Being a language assistant for your year abroad would be the equivalent to a year off to travel and party in France why being paid to do it if it wasn’t for the fact that I also have uni work to do while I’m here. And while I have more than enough time to do it I have next to no motivation to do it coz the alternatives to staying in and writing an essay are just too appealing! I really will start one day – honest – some of it’s in soon! Ahh!