To do a year in France is a compulsory part of my degree. Yes, that's right - it's obligatoire. Ever since I thought of doing French at uni I have known that spending a year at a French uni was not for me, no. I wanted to work as an Assistante d'Anglais. So, here I am - about to spend 10 months living and working in Marseille.
I arrived at L'aeroport Marseille Provence which, I might add, is painted an array of colours - lime green, vivid purple and bright orange. I stood waiting for my luggage, praying that it would appear. I mean, my life was in those two suitcases! There were amongst some of the last outs but they came, I was so worried they'd been sent to Alicante or Mauritius or anywhere but Marseille! After I'd been safely reunited with my suitcases I had to find out where to catch the shuttle bus or 'Navette' to La Gare Saint Charles in Marseille. It was quite easy to find, I just followed the signs and when I stumbled across a huge blue bus with 'Marseille Saint Charles' on the side, I guessed I must have found it! 30 minutes later I'm deposited at the station, bags still in tow. I had no idea where to go. I decided a taxi was required. There was no way I was lugging in excess of 20kg blindly across Marseille, even if Google maps had assured me it was only 800m!
Trying to get out of the station was fun. They are knocking it down or rebuilding it, or doing something pretty major anyway. The place was a mess. I asked a man 'comment sortir la gare?' Ok, so he may have thought it was a ridiculous question but I hadn't got a clue! I walked past platform after platform and found a shop. I bought a bottle of water, an a-z of Marseille (I think it will prove invaluable) and some phone credit. I have never had a pay-as-you-go phone before so I didn't have a clue what to do with my 'credit' which looked identical to a till receipt. It turned out to be quite easy though, thank goodness! I started following the 'Taxi' signs and was confronted by a huge flight of stairs. How was I going to get myself and my suitcases down those! I didn't fancy the escalator so I began walking down the stairs one step at a time. After about 3 steps a man yelled over to me from the escalator 'Madame, l'escalator!' He was pointing frantically to the escalator. He came over and took my suitcase and down the escalator we went. I didn't have much say in the matter. Whoever you are - thank you!! I got a taxi really easily to 'devant la vieille charite' where my landlord was ready to meet me. By this time it was like the middle of the afternoon, I felt like I'd travelled from pole to pole, I was hot, thirsty, tired and pretty fed up. Delving into the far corners of my brain I found my french vocabularly and learnt all about my appartment - how to lock the door, ('how to lock the door?' I hear you ask. Yes! It is the most ridiculous lock ever, it took me quite a long time to train my wrist to bend in a most un-natural angle to coax the lock open and closed.) I was told about the electricity, the gas, the water, the shutters, the freebox and wifi, the internet... so much information - I am not a sponge!! Finally my landlord left me to unpack. (I was beginning to think he was moving in with me!) My colocataire wasn't there, she was going to spend the weekend with her parents.
I arrived at L'aeroport Marseille Provence which, I might add, is painted an array of colours - lime green, vivid purple and bright orange. I stood waiting for my luggage, praying that it would appear. I mean, my life was in those two suitcases! There were amongst some of the last outs but they came, I was so worried they'd been sent to Alicante or Mauritius or anywhere but Marseille! After I'd been safely reunited with my suitcases I had to find out where to catch the shuttle bus or 'Navette' to La Gare Saint Charles in Marseille. It was quite easy to find, I just followed the signs and when I stumbled across a huge blue bus with 'Marseille Saint Charles' on the side, I guessed I must have found it! 30 minutes later I'm deposited at the station, bags still in tow. I had no idea where to go. I decided a taxi was required. There was no way I was lugging in excess of 20kg blindly across Marseille, even if Google maps had assured me it was only 800m!
Trying to get out of the station was fun. They are knocking it down or rebuilding it, or doing something pretty major anyway. The place was a mess. I asked a man 'comment sortir la gare?' Ok, so he may have thought it was a ridiculous question but I hadn't got a clue! I walked past platform after platform and found a shop. I bought a bottle of water, an a-z of Marseille (I think it will prove invaluable) and some phone credit. I have never had a pay-as-you-go phone before so I didn't have a clue what to do with my 'credit' which looked identical to a till receipt. It turned out to be quite easy though, thank goodness! I started following the 'Taxi' signs and was confronted by a huge flight of stairs. How was I going to get myself and my suitcases down those! I didn't fancy the escalator so I began walking down the stairs one step at a time. After about 3 steps a man yelled over to me from the escalator 'Madame, l'escalator!' He was pointing frantically to the escalator. He came over and took my suitcase and down the escalator we went. I didn't have much say in the matter. Whoever you are - thank you!! I got a taxi really easily to 'devant la vieille charite' where my landlord was ready to meet me. By this time it was like the middle of the afternoon, I felt like I'd travelled from pole to pole, I was hot, thirsty, tired and pretty fed up. Delving into the far corners of my brain I found my french vocabularly and learnt all about my appartment - how to lock the door, ('how to lock the door?' I hear you ask. Yes! It is the most ridiculous lock ever, it took me quite a long time to train my wrist to bend in a most un-natural angle to coax the lock open and closed.) I was told about the electricity, the gas, the water, the shutters, the freebox and wifi, the internet... so much information - I am not a sponge!! Finally my landlord left me to unpack. (I was beginning to think he was moving in with me!) My colocataire wasn't there, she was going to spend the weekend with her parents.
I decided to go and find Le Centre Bourse where, I had been reliably informed, there was a supermarket. After studying my map and planning my route I left, locking the door, not entirely convinced I'd be able to get back in again. Stupid key! I had to ask about 4 or 5 people 'je cherche Le Centre Bourse' and then, when I was in Le Centre Bourse I had to ask 'je cherche le supermarche'. Finally, after walking through the lingerie section of Galeries Lafayette a supermarket appeared. French food! Omg. Where is the fresh milk and the sliced bread?! I didn't buy much, I couldn't find anything I thought I'd like. It seems they don't cater for vegetarians in the slightest! I went back to the appartment and put the shopping away, did a bit more unpacking. I sat in my room thinking how I was going to have to stay here for 10 months, how it would be 14 weeks before I could go home for Christmas. I had only seen a tiny bit of Marseille but already I felt like it was too much. There are roadworks everywhere, the place is in disarray. There are bags of litter with food in lying in the street, empty bottles, cans, newspapers, wood and other building materials dumped in heaps in the middle of the pavement. I just sat and cried. I wanted to go home. I didn't like this old, run down dump of a place. This was going to be hard.
I didn't feel hungry but I hadn't eaten since breakfast. I went back out in search of some food but I couldn't find anything so I bought a baguette. I was walking along la rue de la republique thinking how awful it was and how I could get myself out of this year abroad. Maybe go home and drop the French, just do English Language. I walked along la rue de la republique in tears and turned left to walk through le passage lorette where I saw a rat! Never in my life have I seen a rat on the streets before, never! I can't say as I'm surprised there are rats, I mean, what do you expect if you leave half eaten baguettes and rotting apples on the streets? I went back to my appartment, thankful I wasn't on the ground floor (and yes, amazingly the key worked!) and had cheese and tomato on the baguette I'd just bought. I took a shower and went to bed, praying that the next day would be better.
I didn't feel hungry but I hadn't eaten since breakfast. I went back out in search of some food but I couldn't find anything so I bought a baguette. I was walking along la rue de la republique thinking how awful it was and how I could get myself out of this year abroad. Maybe go home and drop the French, just do English Language. I walked along la rue de la republique in tears and turned left to walk through le passage lorette where I saw a rat! Never in my life have I seen a rat on the streets before, never! I can't say as I'm surprised there are rats, I mean, what do you expect if you leave half eaten baguettes and rotting apples on the streets? I went back to my appartment, thankful I wasn't on the ground floor (and yes, amazingly the key worked!) and had cheese and tomato on the baguette I'd just bought. I took a shower and went to bed, praying that the next day would be better.
