I Heart Bordeaux

I’ve been MIA on the blog because I was in Bordeaux the last couple days and loving every second of it. On the first day we started out with lots and lots of coffee and then used Jean as our tour guide to explore the city (Jean is not only my tour guide, but also my GPS, he is very handy to have around). We wandered around a bit and stopped to get a kebab for lunch (not too good) but it all worked out since we all walked out and forgot to pay, so they ended up free instead. Apparently Bordeaux isn’t as expensive as everyone said it would be. After that we headed off to the waterfront and to see all of the amazing sites of the city. We walked miles for sure and it was great, but my “dogs were barking” and I needed a drink come about 2pm. We met up with some of Jean’s friends and hit up the market to get some beer and wine to take back to the water. Everyone in Bordeaux seemed to love drinking in the open (even though it’s not legal) and we attracted a pretty big crowd of booze hounds. We had the weirdest mix of people but we all had the love of drinking in common and that’s all that mattered. I couldn’t understand a word of what anyone was saying though, so I just enjoyed my surroundings and threw in a French word every once in awhile. With lots of help I am finally speaking some French. I’m sure I sound terrible and everyone thinks I have some thick accent but I’m getting there. After loads of drinking, Andrew, Katy and myself hopped the tram back to our hostel to freshen up for the night. When we got back to the rest of the guys at the water, the group had grown to a bunch of wasted homeless looking people, playing the drums extremely poorly. As soon as two sketchy guys started fighting over the booze, it was time to get dinner. We ended up at a Chinese buffet and it was heaven. Not what I expected to be eating in Bordeaux but it was a good change from duck, cheese and bread. I felt like I had a 5 month old in my belly by the end and you better believe I got my euros worth of food. The extra weight just made my feet hurt even worse. Towards the end of the night I was getting piggy-back rides back to the hostel. In the morning we met up with an Aussie that we had met the night before at the hostel and headed off to meet up with Jean to plan out the day ahead of us. We were completely shocked when we were told it was too early to order wine, it was already 10am and we were in wine country. I didn’t realize people stopped drinking wine out here. I watch Philippe chug at least a couple glasses every morning at 8am. Oh well, we could wait if we had to. We were ambitious and decided to visit at least 6 wineries for the day, but after calling them all, no one could take us but 1. That wouldn’t be until later, so we headed off to the market for what I thought would be a basic picnic in the park and turned into an outrageous feast. We bought wine, cheese, bread, duck, pork, strawberries, chocolate and way too much more. After lunch we hopped the tram to get to the winery that appeared to be close…we were almost an hour late and had to walk about 2 miles in the heat with blisters from the day before. The vineyard was awesome but we only got to try 1 wine and after the trek we made, that just wasn’t enough. Thank the lord we passed a bar on the way so we could stop and get a drink and some roadies for the train. We stood out extra bad speaking in English and drinking out of plastic bags, but it was the only cure for my aching feet. Our train left at 8pm to return home and was delayed of course, so by the time we hit our stop all I wanted to do was fall asleep. However, I get to hop in the driver’s seat and attempt to find the way home on random country roads that have zero street lights. It took forever and I made far too many wrong turns and nearly flew off the one lane roads when cars shot out of nowhere, but I guess I am a better driver because of it and I am also a champ at swearing in French now as well. I’m learning more every day out here. It was a fantastic visit though and I will for sure be back to Bordeaux before I leave St. Michel.

Chinese Dinner

Last night we had yet another fabulous dinner party. The girl here from China cooked like 5 different courses with duck (of course), dumplings, some crazy eggplant thing (with enough garlic to make my breath stink for weeks), fried rice and I can't even remember the rest. Food just kept coming and I just kept eating. I helped do some chopping for her and I think I still have raw duck in between my nails today after pulling apart duck fat for an hour yesterday. I am getting way too comfortable with having duck and duck fat in everything. (Side note: we had beans the other day, Andrew asked how they were so good and Brigitte listed a couple ingredients and the last was duck fat.) Anyways, there were 10 of us for dinner, but 2 were kids and we still managed to go through 6 bottles of champagne, at least 4 bottles of wine and then some 30 year old cognac that they found in the basement. I'm pretty sure something was floating in the cognac and it looked way sketchy, but I drank it anyway. A couple from England joined us and I have already promised to come back and help them build their house next year. One of the best and most inappropriate points of the evening was Philippe's impression of how the Chinese talk. There is no way to explain to him how bad that would be to do in public, so let's just cross our fingers that he doesn't do his impression outside of the house. I nearly shot champagne out of my nose multiple times when this big French buy pulled his eyes and started shouting in "Chinese." I really wish I could speak more French so that I could understand Philippe better, he's one of my favorites for sure. All we ever do is confuse each other, drink and giggle. He sang to me at dinner and it was a bunch more "Chinese," with my name thrown in and a couple random words in English that made no sense. It was a great song though, I wish I could have recorded it. That also reminds me of my first day here. Philippe looked at me, started singing "Blue Eyes" and shaking me because he liked my eyes. He really loves to sing, as you can tell I'm sure. I need to write Philippe a song one of these nights and play it on the air piano (his favorite). And tomorrow morning we are off to Bordeaux for a couple days. Look out vineyards, here I come!

Booze for Lunch

Yesterday was the most unproductive day I think we have had so far. All we did in the morning was go to the market and then we got back and started to get ready to paint, but then it was lunch time so we stopped. Brigitte and Phillipe had some friends stop by which usually means a party is about to start. I remind you that it's noon and we still have to start working...The first course was straight liquor and strong as hell and on an empty stomach was doing it's job fast. Then finally some food comes out and there are about 3 different duck dishes, potatoes, cheese, bread and pork and I think there was even more. Then we switch to white wine for a little with lunch and then end with red wine. Brigitte is tanked by this point and so is Philippe. Philippe had already started out the morning with a bottle or 2 of wine (he hides it in the bushes so Brigitte doesn't know), so he was way ahead of everyone. By this point I'm thinking that work isn't going to happen...but of course it does. I can't believe anyone was ready to trust me with painting after feeding me that much booze for lunch. I needed a nap hardcore and almost passed out in the hallway a couple times! The paint job looks like crap but I managed to get it done before it was time for dinner and more drinks. Brigitte, the lucky bitch, went and passed out while we were working. Being the woman of the house certainly has it's benefits. I don't think that there is any point during the day anymore where I don't have duck and wine coursing through my entire body. I'm starting to think that this is what heaven looks like.


Oh yes, and Brigitte and Philippe's son is in town now...I thought that meant that someone could finally drive besides me, but of course, the odds are always against me. I found out that Andrew had a DUI and that's why he has no license, the girl has just never driven in her life. But so, Jean (said like John) ALSO got a DUI recently, so out of 4 damn people, I am STILL the only one legal to drive. How that managed to happen...NO IDEA. And we are going to Bordeaux next week so I have to drive like an hour to the train and I am still stalling the damn car. I can't get the hang of it and it will be a total shitshow sending me that far. I have no choice though, so we will make it no matter how many times we almost die. 

It's St. Patrick's Day...We WILL Find Whiskey

A couple of days ago it was St. Patrick's Day, as you all know, so I was far too busy sitting on my ass drinking to send out an update, as I was the next day as well and most of yesterday while I’m on the topic... But back to St. Patty’s day, so in France people take the middle of the day off for napping, so it was not easy to find a bar in the early afternoon. We found one though after a couple tries and got our whiskey to celebrate (me and Andrew that is), homegirl (the Chinese aussie) didn't even want water. She just watched the tv and and laughed at a toothpaste ad....ya, she lives a thrilling life. I’m pretty sure she is certain that Andrew and I are headed straight to hell, not that either of us are concerned. But, since I was driving we didn't stay too long because that meant I couldn't pound any beers. We did find some boxed wine and some Killians, so we just set up our own bar back at the house. We celebrated the shit out of St. Patty's Day and my head was pounding in the morning (the sign of a good night). We got up early to go to the city the next day though and the highlight of the day was the feast that Andrew and I had ourselves. Again, the girl is a vegetarian and no fun, so she wandered by herself while we ate for 2 straight hours. The first course was foie gras and it was like butter. I don’t think we said a word while we were eating it because all we could do was savor. Then there was salmon lox (amazing), then a beef dish, medium rare with potatoes (heaven) and we ended with another type of fish (awesome) and of course the meal came with wine too. I don’t think I have ever had a better meal in my life. The rest of the day was spent with me and Andrew moving from one bar to the next, enjoying the weather and drinking more. Every time we put our stuff down this girl got all ADD and had to leave on her own. If anyone needs a few drinks and the stick out of her ass, it’s definitely her.

We're Gonna Need Helmets

Sweet Helmet

I'm super excited that there are finally two new people here to work with me! There is a girl that's 20, Chinese, from Australia but studying in Germany...weird combo. And then a guy from the Boston area that's 26. What is funny, is that NEITHER of them have licenses...I was hoping that maybe someone someone else could drive or help a sister out with some driving instruction, but nope. I'm GD Driving Miss Daisy out here now. How am I the only one that drives a car?! SO ya, we are going to need some matching helmets for sure since I still can't reverse. AND this means that if we go to the bar, I have to be the designated driver at all times. Maybe I'll take a tip from the show, "The League" and get drunk, call a tow truck and drink in the front seat and be driven home at the same time. I wonder if they have some sort of AAA out here...? Something to look into for sure. So this is sadly going to be a short entry since I agreed to play a board game in French...should be interesting since none of us speak French. I have a feeling we will give up pretty fast and try to hit up the store for more wine. I have made everyone agree that we need to invest in a big, fat box of wine. And this is France! You know that all the boxed wine out here has GOT to be high quality. We will find out. I will keep you posted.

My Converter Isn't Converting!

It's bound to happen

Luckily before I left I bought a converter and adapter so that I could plug in all of my necessary appliances. They don't seem to be working how I imagined they would though. I was trying to dry my hair the other day and even with everything plugged in correctly, I could smell fire and some of the wires in my dryer were turning bright red...I turned down the power and kept going with it once the smell lessened but then it just shut off. I thought I had blown something so yesterday when I had to get ready for a dinner party I stood outside for awhile (it was SUPER windy) and tried to go about drying my hair the natural way, I'm in the country and all I figured. Then it started to rain and I was just going backwards with the drying process. I decided to give the dryer a shot once more and it worked! No burning smell or anything, thank you lord! So then for the straightener...this has me more worried than the dryer. As soon as I turn it on, it sounds like it's sizzling. I always think I'm going to get some huge electric shock sent through my body when I plug it in or pick it up. I'm thinking about going hippie style and using nothing anymore. I don't want to die by hair appliance.

Good ol' America

So this dinner party I was getting ready for...oh boy was it interesting. There were 3 married couples, this crazy scary woman (I will get back to her) and myself. First, Phillipe tries to make me scoot over on this little chair so one of the married men can have room to sit. I awkwardly move, but then I see the wife shooting some dirty ass looks and I scoot back to the middle where I was. So, off to a good start already. Now, almost everyone spoke a little English, so everyone gave a try at talking to me. This crazy scary woman tried to give me a "French lesson," (she wasn't fond of me not being able to hold a French conversation), however, this "lesson" was me trying to make sense of her terrible English through her drunken slurs and thick accent. I was totally pissing her off that I couldn't make sense of what the hell she was trying to say. Someone else was nice enough to clarify after I sat with a blank stare for about ten minutes. I just wanted her to stop talking and let me sit with my glass of champagne. I found her to be crazy scary because first, she seemed angry at me all the time, second, she stared at me WAY too much and most importantly, she looked straight out of "Hocus Pocus." Her shoulder length gray hair was all over the place and her nose looked like something I could have picked up at a costume store. Oh yes, and the cat of the house loved her and sat in her lap most of the night...too bad it wasn't a black cat. I just chugged my champagne and tried to zone out for awhile and pictured this lady with a broom and black pointy hat. Then, dinner time. Somehow I ended up at the guys end of the table, which worked out well for me. The men were way less critical of my lack of knowledge of the French language. They appreciated my love of drinking, played me "Hotel California," talked about riding motorcycles down the coast and gave me their best American impersonations. John Wayne, Clint Eastwood and Harrison Ford were all referenced. The French definitely think we sound like some inbred, redneck truckers. It was entertaining at least. As two o'clock rolled around, I had nearly fallen asleep on the table a good ten times. Along with the combination of champagne, white wine and red wine, the wine coma was setting in, yet again. It takes a surprisingly large amount of effort to seem entertained by a conversation almost entirely in a foreign language. I think everyone noticed that I was slowly passing out on my plate so we called it a night. I hope I didn't make too terrible of a first impression, ugh.

Exactly how I looked

PS - Please note the new Mr. T quotes to the right. There will be a new one every day! There is also a monkey at the bottom to give you things to ponder.

"You Go 1, 2, 3 and 4...It's Easy."

Fingers crossed this doesn't happen

I made this my title because these were my only instructions for driving a manual car for the first time ever. Oh, and by myself in France, where I don't understand street signs and don't really know where to go on the windy one-car roads full of potholes. The look I gave Brigitte after she, "told me how to drive the car," must have been a look of pure terror. But, I said okay, grabbed my international drivers license, (which I got by showing my US drivers license, nothing more) and was headed to try my French out in the bakery. After it took me a solid few minutes to start the car, I was shocked to be moving and went with it. I never got out of second gear though, too scared for my life. I just waved everyone around me and ignored the dirty looks. Hopefully they thought I was a French teenager or something and not a twenty-something dumb American that can't drive a car. The sweating came on when I realized I was coming to a stop sign...and.....I killed it. In the intersection. During country "rush hour." I just didn't look up and tried not to listen to anyone yelling and put my concentration on starting my tin can back up. With a solid jerk, I was back on the road and had managed to keep my pants dry. On the way back, just my luck, some over-sized wood hauling truck is coming down the hill and taking up the entire road. I wait and wait for it to reverse allllll the way back up the hill since I don't know short cuts and I just keep on killing the damn Peugeot every inch I tried to crawl forward. If that car wasn't ready for a new clutch by now, it will be in the next couple days. 

A solid investment for my time out here

This was yesterday and yet again today, Brigitte needed her cigs and some petrol, so out I go again, ugh. Poor Brigitte had to see my attempt at reversing around the repair truck in the driveway. After she saw that I was going nowhere fast, she reversed it for me and still wanted me to get in and drive. If I were her, I would have punched me in the face and told me not to come in 10 feet of the car, but we handle things differently. I watched a few youtube videos on driving a manual today and hopefully that will suffice for my manual driving lesson. Oy Vey! I need a bottle of wine and a nap after all this.

I Am Thankful For Things That Don’t Make Me Gag and Outdoor Markets

Perigueux Market

Biscotti

Not to brag too much, but I had an AWESOME day in Perigueux yesterday! I got up early, got on the correct bus (so proud of myself) and was off. First thing, I got myself some coffee and hung out in the café watching all the schmucks head to work. Then on the agenda was the museum and cathedral, to make myself feel scholarly of course. After that I got down to business and strolled the streets, hit up a few markets and ate the hell out of everything I could find! From biscotti, to egg rolls, I had it all. I couldn’t walk by one window without salivating. I didn’t have any duck while in Perigueux, however, I did buy some foie grois to bring back home. Oops! Funny enough, I also hung out with some ducks in the park for a little bit. That was right before I headed off for a wine break in the square. Everyone I met was extremely helpful, but spoke just about zero English. I like how in Paris everyone speaks English, but no one will for you and then out of Paris, no one speaks English but tries to and does their darndest to understand your broken French. I guess it was good practice for me.

Well, on the way back on the bus, I was unfortunately reminded of my Seattle bus riding experiences. My route from home to downtown almost always involved an older man that somehow managed to crap his pants on a daily basis, along with smelling of  the sweet musk of about 3 Steel Reserves (guesstimate…most likely more). And he thought I was the one who deserved dirty looks…Anyway, this guy always managed to sit close enough to me and up wind of course. It was just as disgusting as you are imagining, times about ten. So here I am on this bus heading back home yesterday and who decides to sit next to me…? Oh yes, an older man that smells just like shit with a slight hint of fresh bread somehow. Obviously one smell overpowered the other. The seats were small, so he huddled in close and I nearly passed myself out from taking in the smallest amounts of air as possible. I don’t know if I look like I enjoy pungent odors, but I certainly don’t. No, not at all. 

Ducks, Duck Shoes and Painting

Another duck story, I’m sorry….Last night at dinner another couple had arrived, so Brigitte and Phillipe were cooking up awesome food as usual. The main dish was pasta, which of course came with duck, cheese, bread and a couple more goodies. The duck was on the side, so I thought I’d take a duck break for the night. Brigitte handed me my pasta and pointed to the duck, “you put duck in pasta” she says….Why of course the duck goes in the pasta, because why the hell wouldn’t it? It’s looking like I’m going to be solely responsible for putting the beloved duck on the endangered species list. While I’m sitting around on my fat ass looking and feeling like octomom, the duck will be no more. Perhaps I should start a petition to save the ducks now?

Side note: Check out this website! http://flashduck09.blogspot.com/2009/08/step-in-right-direction-for-lucky-duck.html

While looking for this duck picture, I also found a hilarious duck article about ducks and orthopedic shoes, don't worry it's not long. This is the future I'm talking about, take the time.

Anyways, I’ve actually been doing some work the last few days. I now know how to make a bed properly (this doesn’t mean I will ever make my own) and I am working on my painting skills. Brigitte really should know better than to leave me unsupervised with buckets of paint, but I guess she trusts in my skills better than I do. But a big thanks to baby Jesus, that whoever attempted to paint the room before me must have been blind and armless. There was no way I could have done a worse job and Brigitte managed to spill paint on the bed and all over the floor. With the bar set low, I succeeded. Most of the paint that didn’t end up on the wall ended up on me, which is better than the antiques. I’m like a magnet for food and dirt, which worked out well for once. I was wearing one of Phillipe’s old shirts that went down to my shins, so most of me was covered anyway. Oh, and I got to paint the ceiling, while standing on a ladder from about the time this place was built (11th century...). It took Brigitte and I pulling on the ladder for a good few minutes to make it open and once we got it just about right, some important looking metal piece broke in two. This is when Brigitte said that the ladder was okay, handed it to me and let me get started. I guess we don’t have the same safety expectations. 

Fixing the Fat and Wild Pig Riding

Wild Pig

After yet another delicious meal last night, I decided somewhere in between the duck and the chicken dish that running had to become a priority. I woke up this morning, buttered my bread and tied on my running shoes. Running really isn't so bad when it's in the French countryside instead of the Cincinnati ghetto. Surprise, surprise right? Well, about 20 minutes away, I remembered back to the car ride with Brigitte from the train station and a little piece of information she gave me...that there are wild pigs out here. Seriously? A great thing to remember about halfway out. I would. And who the hell has ever seen a wild pig? Of course I looked it up, and here we go, please look left. I think this kid has the right idea though. If I see one of these on my next run, you better believe I'm riding it home and eating it for dinner.

In order to not get myself lost I decided to pretend I was Zoolander and was unable to make left turns. Obviously on the way back was a reverse Zoolander, but you get what I'm going for. I thought this idea was genius until my continuous right turns took me past an over-sized cross made of wood and what looked like a tent city....I kept running and decided not to question or slow down. Maybe tomorrow I will take a different route, considering no car passed me the entire time I was gone. Maybe people out here know better than to take that road...

How to Get Fat in France

Step 1: Eat this for lunch....

Too many Google results for "food coma"

• Duck
• Bread
• More duck
• Pig 
• Raw Oysters
• Some type of fish
• Wine
• More duck

Dog version of me

Well, that's the only real step I guess. And needless to say, a food coma came on quickly. I almost didn't make it up the stairs in time.

Besides eating, for my first real day yesterday, I woke up late and went on an adventure with Owen the dog. I also brought in some wood. I figured something productive should happen during the day. And wood was for sure the only thing I actually did. Brigitte and Phillipe have friends visiting, so as soon as they got here, out came the champagne, souffle, salami, nuts and olives...this was just the beginning. Then we moved on to dinner. For dinner was a beef stew (please note it wasn't duck this time) and a cucumber salad and of course some red wine. I lied when I said besides eating. This is really more of a food blog, all I do is eat and then pass out because I ate too much. It's easy to eat too much when everyone is speaking French but me. My 10 key phrases that I have learned aren't really ones to throw into the conversation. I think it would be rude and confusing to ask where the bathroom is or how to get to my train. I've become really really good at sitting and listening to French though. It's good motivation to use the hell out of my French books.

How I must look to everyone when I'm listening

On a totally different note, I think I should share with America that fridges are totally last season....The fridge is bare here because the eggs...they sit out, the cheese....there's a cabinet for it, the meat....it hangs in the kitchen (that's what she said). I haven't gotten sick from eating all of this, so I am really confused why everything gets refrigerated and why everyone is so paranoid about gets things into a cold place. Chill out (you, not the food), apparently it doesn't matter.

Cheese cabinet

Note: I will try to use less animal pictures in upcoming posts, this is not a promise, but I will try my best. They just work so well!

Alright, I'm out, I think it's about eatin' time, which means it's also about nappin' time.

Bienvenue a St Michel

Leaving the Paris airport did not come soon enough! I managed to kill 12 hours but it was some of the longest hours of my life...people just aren't that weird in Paris. There aren't any fatties and people are pretty fashionable, minus some crazy ass heals here and there. Overall, the people watching sucked. I ended up roaming around a lot and drinking way too much coffee to stay awake. Luckily, all the issues with the sim card for my phone took up a decent amount of time but also gave me a raging headache since no one wanted to help a sister out and try to speak some English. I understand it's France and I should be speaking French, I definitely tried my best, but some things are not easy to translate. Enough airport crap.

So, this is totally how it looks out here, more pictures to come obviously. I plan on doing some exploring with my camera later today. My host, Brigitte, met me at the train station last night and the first thing I got to eat for my midnight snack was brie and other cheese, bread and duck. I am already in love with this place. The duck is pretty plentiful out here I guess, so I think my diet will consist of mainly duck and cheese. I am more than okay with this. I had better not try to make any duck friends around here though, I don't think the friendship would last long.

Fun fact: this "city" of St Michel consists of 4 houses....and I'm in one of them, ha! I am way more in the middle of nowhere than I thought I'd be, so I have no idea how this traveling around thing is going to work. I guess my international drivers license will be coming in handy instead. And there should be another 2 work-awayers coming into town in 10 days, so I will have people to hang out with!

I think it's time to go exploring...

Ah, the smell of cologne and cigarettes…Salut Paris!

After a 20 min car ride and an 8 hour flight, I am now killing 12 hours in the Paris airport until I get to take 2 trains for 5 hours and then a car ride to St Michel. Someone shoot me please.

Luckily my flight turned out pretty awesome for the following reasons: 1. No babies, score! 2. Some angel at the ticket desk gave me 2 drink tickets that I didn’t even need to use because wine was free-fifty. 3. The flight was empty so I had 2 seats to lounge in while watching my shows. The flight attendant didn’t seem too judgmental, so I proceeded to drink at least a bottle of wine out of my classy plastic cup until I fell into a wine coma about halfway into the second movie. As homeless as that sounds, I am not ashamed of my actions. Once the wine wore off, I awoke to a banana and a breakfast sando! Now, the breakfast sandwich tasted like cold shit, but it’s the thought that counts right? So, thank you Delta for such a pleasant trip.

Now for some sweet ass people watching! Unfortunately, I don’t think Frenchies will be nearly as entertaining as Americans, but you better believe if something weird is going on I’ll be lurking in the shadows watching. Wow, I’m a total creep. Whatev.