This is my first blog post! That's right, I'm 25 days in, and I'm settled/bored/desperate enough to start a blog. As opposed as I was initially to the idea of putting yet another ERASMUS blog out into the universe (there truly are bajillions floating around the internet - just look at thirdyearabroad, it's full of idiots like me), and as much as I loathe attention (ahem), I've actually seen some very cute blogs from some of my friends which have been really fun to read and have therefore inspired me greatly. So now I'm ready. Ready to embark on a journey.
Alors, bonjour from France. I'm currently living in Rouen, which - according to Wikipedia - is the historic capital of Normandy and is roughly a quarter of the size of Edinburgh, my adopted hometown. As far as I can tell, Rouen is really good for old churches and Joan of Arc memorabilia, and if you wander down the Rue du gros horloge at lunchtime on a Saturday, you will see plenty of Japanese and American tourists dutifully taking photos of the big golden clock (...le gros horloge. The French are very imaginative with their street names.) The pastries here are also excellent, of course, and I have been enjoying them round the clock in the glorious French sunshine (24°c weather in October? Get it together, France)
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| le gros horloge, a sparkly clock |
I arrived here on the 9th September with 3 suitcases after taking 4 train journeys. I was tired and therefore incredibly emotional (think crying-on-the-train-in-front-of-strangers-while-listening-to-the-Disney-Tarzan-soundtrack emotional). My friend Eleri came and met me at Rouen train station, and consistently proved to be a total lifesaver for the next three weeks, where she let me sleep on her clic-clac bed in the living room of her gorgeous apartment - which just happens to be in an old listed building which has its own Wikipedia page, bien sur.
We started trying to organise our classes immediately, which, apparently, was already far too late - I managed to miss all of the introductory lectures and tours. Not that it would have helped at all, of course, because somewhere between the University of Edinburgh and l'Université de Rouen, they managed to write down that we wanted to learn English. Non, non, non. We spent the next two weeks trying to rectify this mistake.
We did not rectify the mistake. There are still teachers asking us if we want to take English grammar courses. Maybe they will learn.
However, three weeks in, I have just about managed to form some semblance of a timetable, and there's a heady mix of History of Art, translation and cinema. In fact, if my granddad would call it a "doss subject", I'm probably studying it.
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| this will probably be covered in my history of art class |
I have managed to get a bus pass, a French SIM card, a young person's railcard, a French bank account (even if they won't let me have the bank card yet, les méchants) and two days ago I even managed to finally move into my own house. It's weird and exciting having my own bedroom again, and I'm sharing an enormous 6-bedroom country house with a Turk, a Russian, and three French people - one of whom is called Francois and is the living embodiment of every cliché I have ever heard. They're very nice. It's actually in a village outside of Rouen and about a half an hour's bus ride away from the campus, but it's not too bad.
I cannot stress how nice it is to have my own space - Eleri was incredibly generous in taking me in, but it was very odd when I guiltily made myself the unhealthiest dinner known to man last night and realised that there was nobody to judge me. So I put more Swiss cheese on it.
I will leave this post for now, because I'm sure nobody really cares. If you would like a more up-to-date, hip way to keep track of the failings of the French administration system, I frequently complain about them on my Twitter.
I'll probably update again. Later. OK. Babye. Thanks for reading!
Josie
P.S. No Mum, if the title alarmed you, I haven't been counting the days, I used a website.
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