Tchin Tchin

I’ve got it bad. That feeling that time is slipping away and there’s nothing I can do about it. Vive la nostalgie! It’s hard not to think about ‘the end’ now- as one assistant drunkenly said to me the other evening ‘It’s too sooooon!’ Only 8 weeks or so to go until I will leave Nancy with only a crappy Dunlop suitcase and great memories from a great seven months.

Friday night was hilarious. I was invited out for drinks with two of the teachers-Nathalie and Valérie from school. I often help Nathalie out with her SEGPA students- students so academically poor they have separate classes from the other students. They’re a handful, it’s not an easy job teaching them I've got to say. After helping in one of her lessons on Thursday, Nathalie invited me out for drinks on Friday night. We met up in Opéra, a nice little bar just behind Place Stan. Spent a couple of hours speaking lots of French (not that easy in a loud bar when you keep having to say ‘Pardon? J’ai pas entendu'.) Love how open the French are about their relationship history- I learnt that Valérie, originally from the South moved to Nancy for a man who later broke up with her. Also learned that Nathalie spent two weeks in Manchester when she was my age and was basically a massive slag. Love it.The most hilarious moment was perhaps the advice they gave me ‘Il faut manger local’ meaning ‘You must find a French hottie’. When in France, and all.

While we're on the subject of 'manger' i.e. food (when am I off this subject?), I went for lunch again this week at Anne’s house- an English lady who’s been living in France and Belgium for the last fifty years or so. Had soup, salmon (as my closest friends will know is the key to my heart) and chocolate mousse. Once again Bouba, her chihuahua was sat on my lap for the entirety of the afternoon. It’s been so nice to swap living abroad stories with Anne- we often talk about the differences between the French and the British. Two of the main ones we found;

· The French don’t let many people get close. In England, I’m used to talking to little old ladies at the bus stop about the weather or the news or some other topic that binds us together for a few minutes. Then we’re off. In France you don’t talk to anyone. You stay silent, don’t make eye contact with anyone and when the bus arrives it’s a free-for-all. Takes a while to get used to.

· The French are very reluctant to invite you into their homes. I get on well with lots of the teachers at school, but am yet to visit any of their homes, even my responsable who lives a mere 3 minute walk away from chez moi. It’s strange. Luckily I have a big group of assistant friends and French students to keep me occupied, but it would have been nice at the start to have been invited for a meal or an aperitif at someone’s house. It’s not easy, packing your life up and moving to a town in foreign country where you don’t know anyone. My first week here just felt surreal- nowhere near as tough as I was expecting but I just felt like I was living in a bubble, that everything I did was just a dream. I still feel like that sometimes- I have plenty of ‘Oh my god I can’t believe I live in France’ moments. When you are invited into someone’s home for a meal, like I have been with Anne it's great. The French spend hours eating a meal, discussing, debating- there’s always an aperitif and a cheese course between the plat principal and dessert. This is my kind of life! I just wish I saw it more often!

A week from now I will be in Krakow, Poland, knackered after having spent the night camping out in Charles de Gaulle airport. Niiiice! I can’t wait to explore a part of Europe whose language I cannot speak for once. Can’t wait to buy local food using different currency and, of course, Auschwitz. It'll be awful, but what else would it be? Moving on to Budapest, Bratislava, Vienna and Prague- it'll be knackering, but I’m sure we’ll have the time of our lives. Protitez-ing bien we are spending next Saturday in Paris, starting with the tourist trap that is the Café des 2 Moulins, Amélie style...

As Humphrey Bogart says in Casablanca, "We'll always have Paris". Mais oui.

Here's to the next 2 months.

Cheers!