The Trail's Our Thing

Before my arrival, I received the name and address of my family, which was actually a single woman. The information described her as “Dame seule 60 ans, retraitée active, habite à 10 mn à pied de l’Institut et u centre ville, 2 chambres avec salle d’eau à partager pour les stagiares, bonne ambiance et bonne cuisine. Pas d’animaux. Non fumeur.” I was to arrive at 18h00 on Sunday.

The name of “mon hostesse” is Isabelle. She is a divorced lady, a very attractive and stylish woman of about 60, who lives in a large fourth story apartment in a modern complex just adjacent to the Centre du Congrès, the convention center in Aix. It is a two minutes walk to the center of Aix and an easy ten minutes walk around the péripherique from the school. The location is really really good.

Isabelle has been hosting students for about ten years. She has a three bedroom apartment, and two of the rooms are for students. My room is simple but very clean—a double bed, a night table with a lamp, and a desk, desk chair and another lamp. There’s a big closet. The walls are painted bright orange, and there is a window. I have the window open all the time, as there is no air conditioning and no fan.

The other student is a Swiss man, perhaps a few years older than me, named Markus. (This is not pronounced the same as we would pronounce Marcus… it kind of rhymes with “excuse.”) He is from Lucerne, speaks Swiss-German as his native language, and is studying French just for pleasure. He spent four weeks at the more intense school at Villefranche-sur-Mer and this is his EIGHTH week at the IS school and with Isabelle. At this point, he is quite fluent in French, very confident, and he and Isabelle chatter away. I am not used to being so silent… and so unsure of myself!!

Markus at the Carrefour Bar (he just stopped by!)

Markus and I are sharing a bathroom. Actually there’s one room that is a toilet room and another room that has a shower and a sink. We have never collided with each other in the night, but it is a bit awkward. C’est la vie.

When I arrived on Sunday, Isabelle was not there. She was at the airport to pick up her daughter Christine who lives on a Caribbean Island and is here for a vacation and to have some surgery. (The surgery was discussed in some detail, and I’m not quite sure, but I think she has had her gall bladder removed!) Christine is one of the most tanned people I have ever seen and also has a perfect figure… a totally flat stomach, of course. Christine is now staying at the apartment too, so there are four of us. I feel sure that Isabelle, Christine, and Markus all speak good English, but we are not allowed to speak English there—only French!

Isabelle’s friend Catherine was there to meet me on Sunday, and she served Markus and I a dinner of a big salad, bread and a citron tart. Markus brought out a bottle of wine. Catherine was delightful, an absolute pleasure to be with. I hope I get a chance to see her again. I went to bed Sunday night before Isabelle and Christine arrived from the airport, and unfortunately my first meeting with Isabelle was not ideal. Markus and I had decided the night before that I would shower at 6:45 and he would shower at 7:15. I was wide awake at 6:15 and decided to go ahead and get my shower out of the way, perhaps around 6:30 am. It never occurred to me that this would be a problem. I was showering away (with a handheld shower attachment), when BANG BANG BANG!!! It was Isabelle. NON, NON, NON!!!! I ended my shower as quickly as possible, put on my clothes, and went out to meet her. I had gotten up too early! I had woken up everyone else! And (worse offense), I had used too much water! I wasn’t supposed to keep the water on non-stop! I was supposed to get myself wet, turn it off, use the soap, turn it on, ecetera, ecetera, all in rapid-fire French. “Je suis désolée!!!” “Pardon, Madame!!” Oh my goodness… I was off to a terrible beginning.

Fortunately, things have gone uphill since then, though Isabelle is not the warm, inviting personality of her friend Catherine. Isabelle told me the first morning (a bit later than the shower incident) that I could call her “tu,” and I try, but it does feel a bit awkward to me. I somehow seem stuck in “vous” with her as well as my classmates, who have also said to use “tu.” When Catherine left that first evening, it was so natural to kiss-kiss her goodbye, but hmmm…. not so sure about Isabelle.

Breakfast is a disappointment, but I suspect it is more typical for many here in France where it is not practical to get to a bakery every morning. I know that out there, just down the street, are wonderful boulangeries with croissants, pain du chocolat, fresh baguettes. But non, at Isabelle’s, Markus and I are served juice, yoghurt, a small piece of toast with butter and confiture, and coffee. Isabelle has a very small bowl of muesili with yoghurt and a huge cup of tea. I think I am beginning to see why French women stay slim. On Thursday I stopped at a boulangerie on the way to school to get a croissant.

And, well, dinner is a bit of a disappointment too. We do not have three courses or wine (unless Markus or I provide it). Last night we had a bowl of radishes, sauteed pork with vegetables, and some cherries (which I bought at the market). The night before we had some pieces of sliced ham, salad, and some pasta—which was quite good. Our dessert was fresh peaches. Isabelle had a commitment last night and prepared dinner for us, but did not stay to eat with us, so Markus and I had a little brother-sister dinner. We slipped into English only one time, when I absolutely could not explain something. He is apparently a gourmet cook and loves food and wine. Since Isabelle is divorced and does not work, he thinks that boarding students is her only real source of income, and that she watches the expenses very very carefully. Okay, that’s understandable. This is fine. But I will be taking advantage of a very nice lunch a few times a week!

Markus is leaving tomorrow (I will miss him!), and it seems I will be the only student with Isabelle next week. My accommodation is fine and definitely convenient, and perhaps I can keep working on my connection with her. I would not want to be in a hotel, and several other students are a ways out of the town and have to take a bus.

There is so much more to tell, but I need to upload all this to the blog and then go to my very convenient apartment just a few minutes away. At 5 pm most of the students of the school are meeting to learn to play petanque and then for a BBQ. (Markus and I are both going—a chance to mingle with other students and get perhaps a more substantial meal!) And tomorrow I’m going on an excursion through the school to St. Tropez for the day. I’m going to Bonnieux on Sunday afternoon for a party and to spend the night. It may be Monday or even Tuesday before I can post again…

À bientôt!