apres longtemps...

Well, after almost exactly three weeks in Aix-en-Provence, I finally got around to starting a blog. I realized this week how I've been pretty out of touch with my family, and only really contact my friends through the wonder that is Facebook, and that's all without really giving much information about my life here. So, here it goes.
I guess I'll have to take it back to the beginning (it's a very good place to start), with my flight from Newark to Bruxelles to Marseille. After a slight fright on the way to Newark that I was cutting it too close which turned out to be completely unfounded and I ended up having about a 1/2 hour at the gate, I was on my way to France. I typed out this whole saga in an email to my family, and since I'm lazy and tired and it's Friday, I'm just going to copy it and modify it slightly. Apologies. Not reaally.

So I got on the plane in Newark, with a water bottle and a butterfinger bought at a little kiosk in the airport. I found my seat, 25H, which turned out to be an aisle seat. It also happened to be right behind the middle of the plane, where there were bathrooms, so I didn't have any under-the-seat storage, which was a little unnerving. I took out my notebook, my French dictionary, and other things I knew I'd want and just kept them tucked in next to me on the seat. I also for a bit thought I didn't have a personal TV, which was okay, but then I discovered a magical contraption that stored the TV under my seat during takeoff and landing. Cool.

When dinner service came around, I really couldn't understand what the steward was saying when he described the meals, as he had a really heavy Indian accent. There was a beautiful Indian woman, probably early 30s, sitting next to me, so I just waited until she ordered and ordered the same. I wish I had just gone for the Shrimp Curry, because I think I ordered one of the "Western" things. But it's okay, it was fish with gravy and potatoes, along with cucumber something and bread and a brownie for dessert.

The plane had excellent film and TV selections, so I watched the Hangover (starring Bradley Cooper!) and How I Met Your Mother (which my brother and I had literally JUST been talking about in the car). Also, they literally had the entire first season of 24. Awesome. I tried to sleep, but planes are just sooo uncomfortable so that was pretty much a fail.

We got off the plane in Brussels at around 7:45. My plane had docked in Terminal B, and I had to go to Terminal A, so I had to go through Border Control. Let me tell you, this line was absurd. There were probably hundreds of people waiting in front of me. It made me really wish I had made more efforts to get my Irish citizenship, because the EU citizens just breezed by us. Unfair. So to give you a time frame, my flight for Marseille was scheduled to leave at 9:35. I finally got through border control at around 8:50, and by this time I was starting to freak out. Then, I found out that I had to go through a security checkpoint again. This line was even worse. There were more lanes here than at border control, but there were so many people.

My ticket said that the gate would close 15 minutes before departure, so I was starting to get really anxious. When it was my turn, it was already 9:20. Not good. I said to the lady behind the conveyor belt thing, "excuse me, my flight leaves in 15 minutes and--" and she cut me off and said, "well, that's not my fault." I was like AHHHHH

So I zoomed through security. On the other end, I literally put on my shoes and just grabbed everything else, not bothering to put them back on or back in my bag. I followed signs to "GATES A/T" (my gate, I thought, was A58), then could not, for the life of me, find any gate higher than 40. So at this point, I'm really, really freaking out. I ask a woman in a shop where the higher gates were, and she directed me upstairs. I felt pretty stupid at that point. So I found gate 58, and IT WAS THE WRONG GATE. I must have read the wrong number on the TV screen thing. So I dash back to the Departures screen and see that it says A49, and that it's at "Final Call." I just start running. The usually-magical moving walkways going that direction just were not on, typically, so I had to run. I got to the gate, and I saw that a man had just boarded before me, THANK GOD. There was a couple standing in front of the desk and they said, "Marseille?" and the attendant person at the desk said, "Marseille?" and I said, "OUI!" I was panting, I was sweating, it was a hot mess.

So, I made it. AND I had a window seat! It was perfect. But then I fell asleep for most of the flight, just with my head like leaning against the window. Pretty uncomfortable. I woke up just when we started our descent, and looking down I saw the Mediterranean and what I assumed was Marseille.

I deplaned, my luggage came out almost instantly (what?), I didn't have to go through any sort of customs or anything (what!?!?), and my host family was waiting for me right outside the baggage claim. Axel and Babette (my host parents) and Alix (one of my 3 host sisters, age 15) were inside, with Morgane (age 18) and Auriane (age 13) waiting in the car.

We drove from the airport to Sausset, where Babette's parents live, had lunch, found a porcupine in the garden (seriously) then finally got to Aix.

The first moment I saw the "centre-ville" of Aix, I swear, I was sent a sign from God. Lady Gaga's "Eh, Eh" came on the radio. I swear, it was fate. I knew then that I would love the city. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but whatever. Babette drove me around a little, showing me where the sites are--most importantly, the American Center and Cours Mirabeau--then we got to their house. It's gorgeous, of course. I was shown my room, and pretty much the second I sat on my bed, I was completely out for ~18 hours, with a slight break in the middle (not kidding) when I wrote in my journal. It worked out nicely, because when I woke up I was in the French time zone. Word.

OKAY THIS IS A REALLY LONG POST. So I'll break it up a little. Next post will be my first week in Aix. Oh boy. Get ready.