Catch Up

I haven’t done this in a few weeks so I thought I’d catch up. I’ve been really busy actually doing work, or in all honestly, I have been keeping busy avoiding doing work!

I had a lovely time at home at the end of October, I went to visit my sister in Portsmouth uni for the first time, I went home to Cardiff and had a fab night out with my friends, then went to Exeter and saw lots of people I hadn’t seen in ages and then went back to Cardiff for Halloween and to see the family before getting the ferry back to France.

Portsmouth

Oh my God did I feel old?? It was so weird being in halls with loads of exciting and carefree freshers! They were all absolutely mental with their six person bong a.k.a. Bongzilla and their drinking games. Having spent so much time drinking in an assez civilised manner (not) I was far from the drinking veteran Emma had made me out to be. In all honestly “Bongzilla” put our humble little funnel to shame and when asked what drinking games I could teach them I pretty much came up blank.  I blame being out of practice, and unfortunately, getting old. *SOB* Anyway, after lots of drinking and managing to find the only decent food (frozen waffles) after my long day travelling, we headed out with the intention to go and see 5ive. We didn’t get there (which turned out to be a good thing because apparently there were only two of them) but after watching Jade fall over whilst trying to go for a subtle wee and experiencing the culinary delights of “Kens” (the chip shop which has absolutely nothing on Neptunes in Exeter or Chippy lane) it was way past my bed time and I ended up kicking Emma out of her bed and sleeping like a baby until the next day. 

The next day I did some long-overdue shopping, spending money I definitely do not have and going for pizza with Emma, and then it was time for night out number two (at this point I was filled with utter dread and was experiencing a taste of my own medicine having been told to “man up”). We drank and played games, squeezed way too many of us into a taxi and got to the place where the clubs are, Gunwharf I think? I went into the club with Emma’s friends while Emma went to get cash. Ten minutes later I got a phone call saying Emma had been banned from the premises because her and Jade had been caught urinating in public. Ever so classy eh?? So two failed nights out in Portsmouth that were actually so much fun!

Cardiff

After a three and a half hour train journey with a hangover the size of Brazil I finally got home. Mum was on the platform waiting for me (awh isn’t she cute?) and it was so nice to park my arse on a sofa again! After some food and a catch up with the parentals, off to the pub I went with Charles, Sid and Tubsy. You know it’s a good night when you end up in Eclipse (the club above the Spar in Penarth) and do not remember why it was ever a good idea to go there.

 

Sunday came with another hangover in tow, and an amazing roast cooked by my amazing mother. Literally like heaven on a plate. We spent the day watching films and we visited Grandma and I had a long-anticipated bubble bath- Bliss.

Monday- let the good times roll! It was such a good night!! Went out with my darling Penarth friends (not P-town massive as Charles likes to call us) and we were all just so merry! The girls got ready at mine, and then we went to Monsieur Clarkez for karaoke where Charles damaged all our ear drums before we headed to town. Classic Lloyds then Live combo with a splash of Oceana in the middle. We danced allll night, did some disgusting shots and by the time we got to live lounge we were all pretty merry. I saw Livi really briefly and because we were both slightly inebriated it was a very passionate moment, you’d have thought we hadn’t seen each other for years when in fact it had been a mere few days. My feet started hurting in Live lounge having worn heels all night so I swapped them to pumps and being the drunken genius I am hid my shoes. I obviously wasn’t as subtle as I thought as when I went back to get they were gone. SOMEONE HAD STOLEN MY SHOES. Who and what would do such a thing? Bloody Cardiff chavs. Bello, Anna Tubsy and I think Charles eventually managed to get me into a taxi and to direct Ed home with a girl’s purse we had found which he insisted on returning tomorrow. The next day I woke up fully clothed, covered in mud (?) and hanging to a phone call from darling Edward asking if he had robbed someone last night! Ha it was just such a funny night.

Exeter

Tuesday brought another hungover train journey to see the beloved folk of Exeter. Rose, Jessy and I slipped straight back into tradition with a classic Diet coke, korma, pilau rice, peshwari naan combo and catch ups. Maaaan I miss those combos!

On Wednesday I went shopping avec Wiggly and her sister Mae. I spent money on stuff I didn’t really need and we had lunch at Boston Tea Party. Later that night we went for Nandos and then had some pre drinks and hit cavern. Wish I could remember more of Cavern! Rose, Farrah and I spent way too much money on tequila and Rose and I ended up at her friend Will’s house for some reason?! Je ne sais pas.

On Thursday it was time to impose on good old Wiggletron. She cooked me a bad boy curry and then we got ready and headed to Blackall Road to drink with its new inhabitants and hit Arena. It was sooo good to see all my winegums and the rest of the group and we had such a fun night in good old Arena. Absolutely nothing has changed, including the not so pleasant smell of damp. Wiggly and I left and decided it was a really good idea to play in the park on the way home. We tried to take pictures but it turns out the majority of them were unsuccessful and we were both much more drunk than we thought!

 

Friday saw an end to my few days in Exeter. We went for a quick lunch and said goodbye before I had to get the train back to Caerdydd.

Cardiff (take 2)

When I arrived back, Emma was home too and we all had a Chinese for my Uncle’s birthday. I saw more people and had another wicked night out with Hannah Bates on Halloween. The delights of Cardiff town centre on a Saturday night... gag. Valley-ites galore with body parts hanging out here there and everywhere. And there was actually a guy dressed as Xfactor’s Wagner- amazing!

After a few more days chilling at home and recovering from a somewhat hectic week, I got the ferry back over with Annie and Claire.

Nantes again

I was welcomed back with a horrible flu that lasted ages and has now spread around most of the group. However since then I have had a good few days. We went out to a club with some Americans and did Karaoke and shooters whilst being watched by this creepy bouncer. Another night, having watched the rugby all day (not Wales unfortunately), Doug was absolutely smashed and decided to copy a guy salsa dancing on his own in one of the bars. It was toooo funny! We tried to get into another club but Twinkletoes was a bit too drunk by this point so we couldn’t get in anywhere despite Fiona’s efforts, and Doug royally deserved “a smack in zee arse” for starting on god knows who!

The strikes have died down now, there haven’t been any coupés harshing my mellow (hope I haven’t spoken too soon). I went to see “Date Limite” with Robert Downey Jnr in French, have had more pasta boxes, had the most amazing steak and chips ever, shopped and spent too much time avoiding doing work (standard).  Ooh and I had my first French exams! The Phonetics one was fine but my IRFFLE language class one was horrible. I have three more coming in the next few weeks also and a project and presentation to do. The French are way too keen for my liking. 

I cannot believe how quickly this year is already going. Emma is coming out to visit me with Claudia in ten days and then we go home in a month for Christmas- it’s crazy! We have lots to look forward to though, the Cardiff medics finish their placements on Friday so there’s a party for them, we plan on going to Paris, there are a few birthdays and we are going to have a Christmas meal. Yay I am starting to feel really festive.

A bien tôt xx

Les Discothèques

Two months in and we have finally dabbled in the nightlife of Nantes. It is really weird because there are lots of clusters of bars and clubs but they are not all in the same place.  Bouffay offers the chilled student bars in the form of an Irish Bar, Pti Zync and its 3 euro pints and Havanas avec les très bons cocktails to name a few. Then there is Angers à Banane (literally Banana Hammock), home to the huge sweaty LC club and some really cool bars which I don’t know the name of. (not at all because I am rarely there sober- LAD). Here is a little run down of our last few nights out.

“Mum I am just ringing to tell you... *sob* I just don’t like Tesco Peanut-Butter!”

Most of our group had gone home/had family visiting so the few of us that were left (Myself, Lou, Livi, Lauren, Claire and her boyfriend Chris, and Doug) started in Bouffay, setting the ball rolling with beaucoup de verres du vin and then eventually some of us went to Angers à Banane  to see a friend of Doug’s DJ. All was fine we were chatting away, Becks and her Mum came and joined us. Too much wine, heart to hearts and bloody whisky shots later, it was time to go home. For some reason it was completely logical for me to go home to Livi’s instead of walking back with Lou. It wasn’t so logical the next day when I had to get the tram in the night before’s clothes past all the keen bean athletes running the Nantes marathon. Errrgh. I also outdid myself on a scale of one to twat with drunk phone calls to Ange. I didn’t think I’d beat ringing her to ask her to sing the Welsh National Anthem, but OH NO! It was so important that I rang her to tell her that I didn’t like the tesco peanut butter she bought me and I was really sorry but I didn’t want it in the kitchen. What. A. Dick.

Scagged tights, Broken i-phones and Exaggerated Accents. (A standard night out for me at home but not so common in France).

It was our American friend Halina’s anniversaire so we went out with them and a few of the Cardiff Uni medics to a few bars in Bouffay and then, once again caught the bus to Angar à Banane. We were CRAVING a proper dance, but as it was a Saturday night everywhere was so expensive. I was alright because in true cheap skate style, Annie, Claire and I had had a few glasses of wine that quickly turned into bottles before we met everyone so as soon as we heard any form of English music we were over the moon. A bit of J-Lo, Black Eyed Peas and other Old School Pop never hurt anyone right? It was the type of music we would hate hearing at home but it was just so good to dance. We (well mainly me) was up on the platform straight away (cringe), somehow managing to scag my tights on the way up- ever the classy lady. Annie somehow attracted the attention of some weirdo guy who would not leave us alone. He was going at it like a trooper, desperately trying to dance with her bless him, but alas! Us British girls know how to save a friend in need, *cue aggressive booty shakes to get him out of the way.* He eventually got the picture. Ooh I forgot to mention, on the bus we bumped into some of the other Erasmus students, some of which are Irish. In my tipsy state it was such a good idea to emphasise our welsh/irish/whatever-british accents and be rowdy and just generally pretty cringe. I really don’t know why I do it to myself, très embarrassing. I ended up staying at Ellie’s so I didn’t have to walk through the ghetto to my flat alone, très bon plan, and then we both dragged ourselves out of bed for a heavenly pasta box mmmm. It suddenly wasn’t so heavenly when I realised I had broken yet another i-phone. Knob.

“La Soirée Anglaise”

Because we don’t speak enough English here (hmmm... yeah), we decided it was a good idea to go to the English night. However, the bar was too busy so we found another place and about twenty of us had a lovely evening chatting. OH MY GOD, never have I ever encountered such a weird guy as the Barman in that bar. He was French, but his family were from Wigan so he had the weirdest accent and he had absolutely no concept of personal space. He was going on about how "he sold to everyone, he gives people what they want" for a good ten minutes before I piped up with "do you sell yourself?" Good one Jess. He went on to ask me "what would you say if I killed a rabbit right now and checked if it had cancer?" (he apparently sells medical supplies or something). SO FREAKING WEIRD. He also farted in his hands and blew it to share the wealth with all of us. What a lovely guy eh?

Les Choses Bizarres de France

1. They strike. ALL THE TIME. Since I have been here there has been a strike every week. There is one going on right now and as I am sat in the internet café, there are masses of people walking past with huge banners, loud music, bangers and vans protesting the retirement age (still).

2. The toilets. Most of them are communal so when you walk in you have to hide your shock at seeing a full frontal man at the urinal as you walk past to the cubicles. Not pleasant.

3. The fashion sense. I have said this before but it's just so weird. You get two complete extremes! People are either really amazingly fashionable or completely tragically challenged in that department wearing beige trainers, Eastpak rucksacks and ankle swingers. TRES BIZARRE.

4. Sundays are literally days of rest. Absolutely nothing is open apart from fast food places and the odd tabac if you are lucky. Thus when you have a disgusting hangover and all you want in life is to munch on a bar of chocolate it is just not possible. 

5. Opening hours in general. The restaurants, banks, offices, shops etc can just pick and choose when they want to open. You can't get any food between 2-7pm, if you want anything on a saturday you need to get up at obscene o'clock and trying to get any letters signed etc is completely impossible.

6. No taxis. The trams are really reliable until 12.30 at night Sunday-Friday and 2.30 on a Saturday. however after the last tram there is no other way of getting home and taxi companies just don't generally answer. It's not ideal.

7. They don't have baked beans. Their Diet Coke tastes really weird as does their chocolate. You can't buy chocolate in bars or single packets of crisps, they only buy in bulk. You can't get naan breads or poppadoms and the curries in restaurants are just vile.

8. All the students actually go to all their lessons and they run from 8am until 7pm. Not natural.

To be continued...

"Je ne veux pas être prostituée!"

Last Thursday, we all went out for drinks after our IRFFLE classes because most of us had fridays off. Too many 3 euro pints later, we once again adopted the typical rowdy, British sterotypes and ended up shotting double whiskies and making friends with these random french guys.
These guys were absolutely hilarious and loved Welsh rugby, so as you can imagine, I got massively over excited, especially after Matt had been  handing out the Welsh abuse all night. He even knew the Welsh anthem in French so we sang that in the middle of the bar (cringe).
Then one of the french people stole my phone saying he thought it was his. all tres bizarre- why on earth would a french person have the pile of shit phone I have? Got it back though and all was fine.
We all raced to get the last tram home, Doug (or Doog as the French say) got on his, then Bex, Lou and I got on ours for all of three stops. It was only when we were at the stop Motte Rouge on the side of the beautiful Loire that Lou had to get off because she'd vommed on the tram. Classy bird!

 She then preceeded to vom over the side of the barrier on to the boats when a really geeky looking french guy started talking to us. Me in my stupid rowdy state convinced myself he was a pimp and shouted at the top of my voice that I didn't want to be a prostitute or be pimped out. WHAT. A. DICK.
Becks eventually got Lou and I away from him and we started the MISSION home. Becks took us some long winded way where we essentially walked in circles and ended up walking through a dark, scary forest, *cue my strop.*
Having been on the phone to taxi services for about an hour, using all Lou and I's credit being on hold (Nantes doesn't really do taxis) I was getting really pissy and had blisters galore, plus i had fallen over in the mud.
We dropped Becks off at her halls, had a drunken chat and got home at 3am both absolutely shattered.
As you can tell, we are not doing very well as far as adopting the elegant French female behavioral traits goes.

An Ode To A Small One

I met a girl named Ellie,

When I came to France,

We played lots of cards,

And had a good dance.

A hobbit she's like,

All small and cute,

But she snores like a bear,

The little beaut.

She is never on time, 

She's usually late,

With dry-shampoo in her hair,

It's morning she hates.

Don't underestimate her,

Because she is small,

A tube of smarties in ten seconds,

She can neck them all.

She makes me laugh,

When she tells me a joke,

"I'll 'av an Orangina,

No not a Coke!"

I love this girl Ellie,

She's like our flat pet,

With mezzo pasta all round,

For this term we're set.

She gets my drift,

When most can not,

She let me cut her hair,

And it looks hot!

She talks of mince and bras,

Oh and binbags as well,

And plays Super Bijoju Quete,

Because our new phones are so swell.

She rocks around Nantes,

With her Newport twang,

I loves her I do,

I haves fun when we hang.

LvZ u BbZ

xXxXxXxXx

Potato Loving, Mange Prie Aime and Bon Saves

We might have just found THE best restaurant in Nantes. Forget the wonders of French cuisine, this restaurant encapsulates everything a hungover student will ever need- CARBS. The clue is in the name to be honest - "L'amour de Pommes de Terres" which means love of the potatoes. Claire, Annie, Ellie and I were in a pretty bad mood as it was, as the French say, "Il pleut comme vache qui pisse" (literally raining like a cow that pisses), so we went for lunch to cheer ourselves up. never before in my life have I seen a portion so big. We had masses of chips, a jacket potato with garlic butter, a salad AND the meat we had chosen which we cooked ourselves on a hot stone thing. A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!

After Ellie stopped fannying about raw meat touching her fork and hands and tried to clean her fingers of bacteria by touching the stone (stupid girl) we were all completely and utterly full to the brim to the point where we could not move. Every city needs a restaurant like this place.

Continuing our not so French cultural experiences we went to see Mange, Prie, Aime in french. Two and a half long and boring hours later our minds and asses were completely numb. What a distressingly boring film! Naturally, to sort our lives out, we hit a bar and met some lovely American people. (Still continuing to rack up English speaking friends- good one.)

Today, we went to see an ice hockey match. We were trying to figure out what the average sophisticated French person would say to encourage their team, clapping enthusiastically whilst saying "très bien!" and "bon save!" however, more than 10 sin bins later we realised that the french crowd were not so refined after all! With bellows of "PUTAIN!" and "ALLEZ!" here, there and everywhere! On top of that they kept playing 10 seconds snippets of random songs  everytime they stopped the clock to do penalties etc and the pathetic excuse for cheerleaders were absolutely horrendous. No wonder Nantes lost. Even more upsetting, we left because we were bored after an hour and just as we walked past the window outside the match ended and all the hot players took their masks off. We didn't even get to perve. Pffft.

Pays de Where?

As Erasmus students, we are getting used to being immediately labelled as not French, just from little details like what we wear (no stupid back packs or beige trainers for us thanks) and how we speak (welsh accent? me?) So to help us blend in and improve our french the uni threw us a party where we were so generously given bright yellow wristbands to show we were International students. However embarrassing it was initially, it was actually quite fun as everyone swigged from concoctions they had smuggled in and got merrier and merrier as the night progressed.

Ellie, Claire, Annie and I started talking to some French boys called Vincent, Clement and Willy (LOL). They laughed at our french as we laughed at their English. Willy actually looked like Borat and said his name with some sort of weird Scottish accent, it was tres amusant.

Having been here a while now, I have realised that French girls stand at the hand dryers after relieving themselves until their hands are bone dry, no matter how long the queue behind them is. It's a bloody joke! It was ranting about this that we discovered that the word for 'queue' in french is exactly the same as the word for 'cock.' I couldn't understand why they found it so funny when I came back saying 'Desolée, il y avait un grand queue' until they explained. Way to look cool Jess!

*Prepare yourself for rant*
I know since uni and all the abuse I get their from the jealous English, I have become maybe just slightly too patriotic, but how can people NOT know where "Pays de Galles" is when they know Scotland, Ireland and England? (No jokes please). I genuinely am shocked and appalled. Even the guy in the kebab shop didn't know where it was when it turns out he lived in bloody Merthyr Tydfil for 3 years! Although, the fact he had lived in Merthyr said a lot (no offense intended). But seriously, the French better buck up their ideas before I send a stern-worded letter to the Minister of Education explain just how disgusting I think it is that they insist on making everyone here learn English yet don't teach them about Britain and it's FOUR countries. (I will probably never get round to this as I spend most of my free time catching up on crap American tv but still). HMPH. L-I-V-I-D.

That is all.

Threesome, Foursome, Anal Sex...

Having still not sorted out our timetables, Monday (27th September) began with a talk with our lovely "résponsable" Georges Letissier. He is an absolute sweetheart, speaking fluent English (thank God) but with a really questionable accent. Lou and I got there along with Matt and Bex ready to moan about how confused we were. In true French administrative fashion he couldn't really give us a straight answer as to which module was worth how many credits so we ended up leaving even more confused. Good one Georgie. "I AM PISSED OFF BEYOND RELIEEEEF/BELIEEEF!"

After a cup of tea on campus we managed to derive our timetables, having considered modules in Latin, Economics and History in a desperate bid to ensure we had at least one day off. I ended up with a pretty, multi-coloured timetable with eight credits worth off translation (ergh), a french communication lecture which is just like media, an English civilization module and the French evening classes which is just about fifteen credits and a pretty tidy Tuesdays and Fridays LIBRE. Doug had slept through the meeting with Georges, so as a punishment we thought it was only fair to wind him up. We told him that Georges was really angry with him and to get his fifteen credits he had to do twenty two and a half hours a week and that we had signed him up for Tudor modules, Latin and Economics on top of the translation modules. It was really cruel of us, but it was funny to see the panic-stricken look on his face.

We mooched around campus until 1.30 when we all spread out in the next classroom praying that we wouldn't get thrown out again. We were in luck, the lady was lovely, but I can see her getting really angry with us all for correcting her translation in the future haha. A personal favourite of mine was Bex telling her that in English we don't usually start sentences with "But." (you will understand why this was my favourite by the end of this entry).

To celebrate our first successful day in uni, we decided to go to the pub (obviously). In good old British-Student style we ended up getting rowdy, singing 90s classics, playing the Rizla game, Shag Marry or Push and I have never (fueled by a few too many pints and some really dodgy shots). Doug lost the Rizla game as Christopher Robin, and other people/characters included Bill Gates, Jigglypuff, Judi Dench, Dick Van Dyke and Crash Bandicoot.

The 90s medley then took over as we all sang at the top of our voices classics such as City High, Spice Girls, B*witched, Five etc... The French weren't too keen surprisingly and just looked at us in disgrace. Doug was loving it singing along with us, so don't believe a thing he says otherwise.

Then it came to I have never. Well! What a bunch of sexual deviants we turned out to be! I won't go into too much detail for fear of my life, but let's just say the "But" argument from translation earlier that day was taken to new levels with the invention of "THREESOME FOURSOME ANAL SEX." The barman also got involved, and told us of a lovely sexual position called Houdini or something, here's a tip for guys- if you want a broken nose I'd suggest you try it sometime!

As you can see, we are settling into Nantes nightlife well and representing the youth of Britain appropriately... NAAAAAAAAT.

Alors on danse...

Having been in Nantes for over three weeks, we decided it was about time we went to one of the clubs. As it was a student night and the kick off to the new academic year, we all bought our tickets which were ten euros each but came with two free drinks. So anyway, we got ready and headed to Liam’s for some drinks and lo and behold the heavens opened and it started pissing down. The first time it had properly rained since we had been there- typical. Strike one.

Lou and I got off at the right tram stop and walked to find the bus stop relying on Liam's sketchy directions. We found it and when a bus came we got so excited that we got on it without even checking what number it was or anything. Duh guess which dickheads got on the wrong one? Claps for us! Luckily we got off at the next stop which was on the same route as the actual bus we needed so all was well.

We met Claire and Annie on the bus and then ran, cowering under my thin, pathetic cardigan in a desperate bid to keep our hair dry, to Liam’s. Ellie then arrived soon after, also soaked and we all drank and chatted to some French people, one of which was extremely drunk with fish on her face which was highly amusing.

It was soon time to get going to the tram and at the time it seemed such a good idea to don bright blue bin bags because God forbid our hair get wet. I’ve forgotten to mention that as well as the downpour, there was also a strike on today, thus the trams were awol. Strike 2. After getting off one tram, getting on another, Annie's card getting eaten by an ATM and being deafened by a herd of rowdy French students we got to Ile de Nantes and walked the twenty-five minute walk to the club, still wearing the bin bags.

When we eventually got in the club (begrudgingly parting with our beloved hair protectors) we faced another hiccup in the form of a huge, hot, sweaty wall of people. Never in my life have I seen such a busy club, and for someone who is claustrophobic like myself, it was far from ideal. Strike 3. I squeezed in a few dances to really random old school music with fresh air breaks every so often. It was so weird seeing everyone around us dancing and singing along not having a clue what the song is actually about. And it was even weirder to see Ellie getting her groove on with her shirt tied around her noggin- such a good look. After stripping off as many layers as appropriate, drinking our two free drinks, pushing and shoving our way through the crowds and realising that we'd walked around like twats with bags on our head for no reason as our hair was ruined from the sweaty atmosphere, we decided enough was enough and embarked on the mission ahead- getting home.

I think I need to write a little paragraph here to thank Claire and Lellie for sorting my life out whilst I nearly passed out in the club. Lel even started on some stupid girl- that's friendship. Ooh and also to my sister, for not picking up her phone and costing me a fortune on my phone bill, even though at the time it was vitally important that I remembered the words to one of the songs we used to sing in Brownies. Merci :)

Nantes is such an easy city to get around, except for the hours between 12.30 and 5am when transport is sparse. After along walk to the center, where I ever so gracefully fell in a pot-hole whilst Lou and I were doing our chav impressions (side pony tails and all), we arrived and rang all the taxi numbers we had. The freak that harassed me on the train appeared and it turns out that he did the same to our Italian friend Samantha and she had called the police on him, which as you can imagine only made our evening even more stressful. Ergh people like him should not be allowed to walk the streets. Anyway, we eventually got in a taxi and got home, all pretty gutted about the mare that had been our first night out.

It wouldn't have been so bad if the club had stopped letting so many people come in, but in hindsight it was still a pretty funny night. And 'at the end of the day when all said and done,' we will know next time not to bother with our hair, to be prepared for the heat of the club and to organise staying somewhere closer after. Better luck next time I guess.

The University of Nantes and the Curse of the Erasmus Students

Well after the first unsuccessful lecture that everyone was thrown out of (even though i accidentally missed it anyway), I am afraid to say that the rest of the week went just as badly. That afternoon, all eleven of us arrived at a second year French-English translation class. Had we not opened our big mouths and told the stupid woman we were Erasmus students, we would have been absolutely fine, and would have quietly got on with our translations. But no. We all had to encourage poor Becks to go and tell the teacher 'what we were' (Erasmus students) and from her reaction you'd think it was some kind of disease! *Cue the look of terror and the immediate banishment from the class.* Eleven keen foreign students we were no more.

We then had the choice to try the next two version lessons or to go to the pub. No prizes for guessing where I went... to the pub. A few three euro pints of beer later it seemed a good idea to play a game of Guess Who with slobbery rizla on our foreheads. Never has such a strict version of said game been seen before! With whisky forfeits, double negatives, Alan Titchmarsh, Noddy, Nick Griffin, Gary Glitter and someone I can’t even pronounce in the mix, it was Matt who lost, not being able to get Dumbo, even knowing it was a cartoon elephant. Bless him!

After a tactical pasta box (take-away pasta is such a good shout), we all parted ways and I was left on the tram with a hysterical Lou giggling about God knows what to God knows who.

A much better end to such a ridiculous day.

Making any progress?

Introduction take 1:
Since I last blogged I would love to tell you I had made a huge amount of progress, however that would be a huge lie. I still haven't officially got my bank card or set up an electricity bill, I managed to miss my first lecture, I've spent way too much money on stuff i don't really need and I am currently sat in a café stealing wifi (again) in a huge mood because I am disappointed in my lack of organisation.
I have made a few discoveries which I will outline for you though!


Introduction take 2 (minus bad mood):
I have now been in Nantes for three weeks and haven't really got any further than I had last time I blogged but that's not to say I haven't had a good week. I have embraced the "welcome week," sorted my timetable and found out I have no lectures on Mondays or Tuesdays which is awesome, after a bit of a mare figured out my way to Rennes airport to meet mum and have started to get used to the relaxed attitude the French have towards working life where they can close whenever they fancy for lunch and NOTHING opens on sundays.
Here are some of my discoveries this week-


1. The French aren't always as reserved in the face of alcohol as we are all led to believe. After so many people telling me that in France it is frowned upon to be rowdy and really drunk whilst out socialising (two qualities I possess in copious amounts), I, my friends, have found proof otherwise. Our adorable french friend Kévin took Claire and I to a bar called Le Shaft for a sports initiation night where there would be, and i quote him, "drunk and ripped guys." So along we went, Claire and I nervously not knowing what to expect and only knowing Kévin. We were instantly met by chorus' of what I can only assume were equivalent to our see-it-off chants and boys and girls downing hideous coloured shots and huge funnel things of beer. I literally could have been in Exeter. We learnt that "see it off" is "A la fin" whilst trying to practice our French on guys who promptly re-located to another table, Claire and I are obviously not that interesting. Good one. however it was so nice to see French student life is not as different as we think and that I won't be a complete wimp by the time I get back to Exetaaah.

2. I ATTRACT WEIRDOS. I'd love to tell you I attracted beautiful French guys who just fall at my feet absolutely encapsulated by my beauty (lol!) but that is definitely not the case. I am convinced it is my eyes (alright, alright they are unusual but i still don't see the Malaysian thing, and I've only been asked if I was Chinese once so far- score!) No matter where I am I get freaks trying to talk to me. Livvie and I discovered that it generally helps if you look at them confused and start speaking in what I drunkenly believe sounds authentically Chinese. So far it has been successful. In the words of Ellie- "bon plan."

3. I got my lack or organisation and disregard for minor details from my mother. After a lovely few days with my Mum, who as per won over the hearts of my friends with her culinary delights, it was only this morning that she was leaving we realised how bloody ditsy we both are. Mum had set her alarm for 7am so we could get up and get her to the train station for 9 to board her flight at 1pm. I am not a morning person at all as anyone who knows me well will be well aware of, so when Mum said it was 7am I did not question it as I silently cursed her for waking me up. We both got ready and were on route to the station thinking we had loads of time. It was only when we got to the train station and her train wasn't on the board that we realised mum hadn't changed the clock on her phone or watch so we were an hour late for her train. A train to Redon (halfway between Nantes and Rennes)and an 80 euro taxi fare later, Mum arrived at the airport. Massive fail on the Adams family front.

4. I was born to shop. Since being here I have carried on, if not further embraced my shopping habits. Having found all the H&Ms and the shopping centres I have probably spent about 300 euros on clothes here. There goes my student loan...

5. French universities don't really care what you do as long as you do the exams. Although as a result of our train faux-pas this morning I would have missed the lecture anyway, I have just found out that everyone got chucked out of the lesson! MASSIVE MOOD IMPROVEMENT. I am doing 15 credits this term, 3 of which are evening classes in French for foreign students, one literature and cinema module and the rest are all credits in translation so it should be pretty sweet, but they are just so laid--back about it all which is fab.

6. Elle is now our flat pet. I don't know what it is, but Lellie (little Ellie) just cannot stand to be apart from Lou and I, sleeping over at every opportunity and reppin' the more rubbish of the Welsh cities, Newport, with the twang in her accent. She makes me laugh! A girl after my own heart who values sleep over most things and would opt for the later morning lessons without batting an eyelid.

7. *Cue soppy bit, get your sick buckets* You can make friends for life wherever you go. I have made such amazing friends while I have been here and really don't know what I'd do without them right now. Although I am missing home and my friends, (my flights home at the end of October are booked :D), and I am uber jealous of my sister's freshers experiences, I am having the time of my life over here.

A suivre...

Bienvenue à Nantes

So as part of my tedious degree in Mathematics and French, I am lucky enough to be able to spend a year abroad in Nantes, France. There are two of us from Exeter, myself and Louisa, and we have been here for about two weeks now. Seeing as so many people have told me how much of an unforgettable experience I am going to have over here I have decided that I don't want to forget anything so- viola! Mon blog! And what better way to start? I am sat in a quaint café with a cup of tea (feeling slightly too fragile to succumb to the French stereotypes and be drinking wine), with my new friends reflecting on the first two weeks of my “année sabbatique.”

When I found out where I had been placed I was so pleased, Nantes is paired with Cardiff and it wasn't until I got here that I realised how many similarities there actually are. The city is so much more beautiful than I ever imagined. It's lively and modern offering a remarkable student lifestyle, but still has such stunning architecture and the French elegance associated with cities like Paris without the touristic and cosmopolitan traits.

The weeks leading up to actually leaving I had such mixed feelings. Having had an amazing summer in Cardiff and at festivals with my friends, I was both nervous and excited. I was pretty impressed at how uncharacteristically calm I was, until it came to parting with my toiletries due to the weight limits on my case- that was a nightmare!

I flew out from Stansted on the 30th August armed with advice from so many people telling me to enjoy myself and to completely throw myself into the experience, and of course, the generation-typical word of warning from my Grandma- “Don’t you go bringing back any frogs when you come home!” I met Lou and her parents in the airport whilst frantically trying to get my suitcase down to Ryanair’s strict 20kg allowance and several pairs of shoes less, a few tears from Mum and some goodbye hugs later we were through security and already embracing French culture with a glass of wine.

We flew to Poitiers, about an hour from Nantes, and stayed with Lou’s Grandparents, Pat and Colin, for the first few days. They wined and dined us from the minute the bar opened at about 11am and I was treated like a princess. It was nice to be welcomed so enthusiastically when I was so nervous about my year ahead.

The day finally came when we were to move into our apartment Louisa had found for us over the summer (I will be eternally grateful for her amazing hard work in sorting out our flat). The car was packed with all our clothes, saucepans from Lou’s grandparents and a lovely set of bedding. Let me tell you about THE bedding. We’d had a lip-biting-to-stifle-the-laugh moment when Pat had ever so generously bought down the ‘beautiful’ bedding from Harrods for Lou. It was powder blue satin with blue frilly pillows and she was “not to get any ideas because it was very sexy.” Lou’s face was an absolute picture! Even the sheet was satin so she’d have been slipping and sliding all over the shop. The picture doesn’t really do it justice but here we go...

Anyway, back to moving in. After a tedious half an hour nodding and pretending to understand what our “gestionnaire” was saying, writing “lu et approuve” and signing pages and pages of French documents, we were given the keys and unloaded the car. I was so overwhelmed by how homely the flat felt straight away. It was so open and spacious with double beds and a huge balcony- perfect! Although we have no oven, which is apparently normal in France? I’m unconvinced, no frozen pizzas for us this year.

We set about our first day of French life in style with a two euro bottle of wine (or two) and lots of cheese and pâté on our balcony. It wasn’t long before we nervously got ready and decided that is was our mission to go and make friends in the centre. Off we went, spurred on with confidence from the questionable wine, we went to a few bars, ended up drinking a few too many cocktails, got offered a job translating randomly by a German guy, had a huge heart to heart and only met a completely weird man munching on monkey nuts. “Ah Shit are these your peanuts?” So Day one- mission aborted. However I found a pub with a Welsh flag outside, I will forever be patriotic, no matter how sick I get of explaining that I am from “Pays de Galles en Grande Bretagne” NOT England.

Day Two

Aims

- Enrol in University

- Open a bank account

- Get a French phone

- Set up our electricity bill

- Make friends

- Kit out our flat

Results

We bought a bin and a mop. We ran around like headless chickens trying to enrol. We couldn’t get a bank account until we had a student card (which requires successfully enrolling in uni) and proof of address like a bill or something which we couldn’t get until we had a bank account- stress galore. We got French phones, mine is just about colour screen. Louisa cried at some crabs in the supermarket. We both moaned and sulked because our (so far) easy adaptation to French life had come to an abrupt halt with a mental slap in the face having realised that we can’t actually speak French and the hours of time we spent translating passages by Voltaire or Rousseau was, just as we expected, COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY USELESS. Oh and how could I forget? I got bitten alive and had some sort of ulcer thing growing on my arm from an allergic reaction. BANGIN’. We were emotionally unstable that day to say the least.

On a brighter note, we did make friends! When we got home the night before, Louisa had a friend request from a guy that a friend had put her in contact with from Cardiff University. It turned out that I already knew him through my old Drama teacher at school as we had both applied for languages at Exeter and now we were in Nantes together. Liam- it’s fate babes. We went for drinks with him and three girls (Claire, Ellie and Annie) who we got on with really well with straight away. It made me realise what a small world we live in when I realised that I went to primary school with Annie for a few years, and have so many friends in common with them all. It was so nice to talk about home and it really cheered me up after a pretty stressful day.

We arranged to meet them again for lunch the next day and cemented our routine for the next few days- card games, wine, mocking welsh accents and baguettes. Bloody baguettes! So unbelievably sick of bread right now, but with the French people’s laid back attitude to their working lives resulting in the most bizarre opening hours, baguettes have become a staple food in our diets. That night we had pre drinks in our flat, all of us were feeling slightly more comfortable now we actually had friends, albeit English speaking ones, and then we made attempt one of hitting the Nantes nightlife. After munching on carrots (the only decent food we had), a rowdy tram journey with phantom earthquakes and what Exeter “lads” would deem “BANTERRR” on the tram we traipsed round the city looking for a night club. Having dragged Annie away from heroin addicts as she desperately tried to practice her French we eventually got to the club and it was full. Nantes nightlife 1 Etudiants Etrangères 0.

We made several attempts after that to conquer the night clubs of Nantes but failed every time. For Claire’s 21st we tried again; after drinks with her lovely family we went to another club, but the no flip flop rule meant another failed attempt. The third time we wanted to go to the gay bar, but everyone wanted to save themselves as my friends were visiting the next day. And the fourth time, we walked for a good half an hour (with one boy on crutches) to find that the club was closed for one night only for maintenance. When we have eventually figured out the nightlife I hope to be able to give a more positive description, however I have found some amazing cocktail bars which do killer margaritas, so you can’t say I don’t have my priorities right- You can take the girl out of Wales...

To try to further our experience of French culture we decided to go and see “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” in French. After I got over the giggles of seeing the Harry Potter trailer dubbed over in to French, with Voldemort shouting “’ARRRYYY POTERRRR!” I must say I became quite accustomed to hearing Nicholas Cage speak such eloquent French.

One of the main tourist attractions of Nantes was the mechanical elephants so many people had told us about so we went on a mission to find them. With Ellie moaning about how she was never going to drink again, and us all rocking the post-night out glow we got to the elephants only to be completely confused as to why someone would make a 20foot mechanical elephant. It was absolutely fascinating but just so weird.

We have already experienced our first strike. I could not believe how big it was! On a scale of one to ten on the havoc scale, it was an absolute pain in the arse. The crowds swarmed the tram lines in such masses only comparable to Cardiff on a Rugby International day. They had marches, speakers and make shift bars going on with little children running around with signs, it was crazy! However, I fought temptation and obeyed our international co-ordinator’s rules not to get involved with any strikes under any circumstances. No fun.

I had my first visitors yesterday, Sam, Ollie, Matt and Dale, came to visit on their journey down the west coast to surf. It was so lovely to see them and I had such a good night. Ollie was on crutches bless him but the boys fitted in well. Highlights were Liam’s flooring comment to Dale:

*Dale weeing in public* (LAD)

Liam- Oh my god your willy is so small!

Dale- Well the women at the clinic were impressed

Liam- What, impressed with your confidence?

Hahaha it really made me laugh. The night finished with the closed club, drunken cooking, lots of chats and group tooth brushing. All-in-all it was très amusant.

It’s been such an emotional roller coaster being here. I have laughed a lot and really enjoyed making new friends and immersing myself in French culture. Apart from the one mare of a day when we failed miserably at sorting our lives out, today was the first day I got upset. It is my sister’s leaving for university/birthday party and I just really wish I was there. It is days like this when you realise how far away you actually are and that it’s not like being at Exeter where I could just jump on a train when I needed to. I really miss my friends and family at home, along with the comforts of being looked after. However I am so thankful to the friends I now have here who have been my safety blanket whilst we all try and adapt to our foreign surroundings. I am pleased to say not all French people fit the stereotype of being rude and they are all really helpful when you start your conversation with “Bonjour, je suis une étudiante Erasmus.” I was so surprised by how many homeless people there are though. Some of the people are so beautiful, but then there are also so many sleazy men and some of the people have the weirdest fashion sense I have ever seen! They seem to be extremes here- really fashionable and chic people you would imagine to live in Paris and then people who walk around in parachute trousers and bandanas- très bizarre. Nantes, like I said, is an absolutely stunning city and it is fast becoming very homely. The vast amount of kebab shops and the fact they have H&M and Zara also make it feel more like I am back in Cardiff but just with a few more ornate buildings and a less aggressive accent!

Thus far, I have thoroughly enjoyed my first two weeks in France. I have made friends I feel so comfortable with, we have settled in to out flat, we are pros at getting the tram and have done the cowboys of the Wild West proud on the card-playing front (a card laid is a card played). We start university on Monday which will bring an end to our current day-to-day life of lazing in cafés and spending money on ridiculous things. Ellie has her bras, she has defrosted her mince and has bought her bin bags, Lou has embarked on a quest to find herself a French man, Claire and I have become wifi queens, Annie (Madame) has successfully become card-bearer and Liam has perfected being able to disguise his saucy talk with his boyfriend on Skype whilst in a room full of French students. I on the other hand still can’t speak French, have somehow run up a huge phone bill even though it is free for people to ring me and have lasted two whole weeks without my beloved BRITISH diet coke. I feel I have grown as a person.