Top - English and Australian rugby fans everywhereMiddle - The music stage at Le Vieux Port
Bottom - People watching the rugby on the big screens
Lucy called this morning to see if she could come and use my internet. I went to meet her at the metro station and helped two random English rugby tourists on the way. Lucy used my internet and we had lunch together - nothing fancy, just cheese and tomato sandwiches with salad, that I'd rustled up in the kitchen. Towards 14h we left for Place Castellane to meet Rachel. We were going to Accueil Marseille. They had called Rachel yesterday to ask if we could go in to discuss us giving English classes. There had obviously been some breakdown in communication because when we got there they were ready to give us a French lesson... Anyway, we left about an hour later and went to Le Vieux Port to a cafe, we then hung around for a bit as there was a concert on inbetween the rugby matches. There were English and Australian rugby fans everywhere. England won the Rugby 12-10 against Australia. The English rugby fans were being awful to the Australians and well, you could have been in England, there were no french voices to be heard anywhere. No wonder the French hate the English. I was actually ashamed to be English. It's people like these rugby fans that give the English a bad name abroad. We left the cafe and went to join some other assistants. I was sat in amongst the English rugby fans so fed up of making polite conversation with complete strangers. If one more person asks me my name, where I'm from, which uni I'm at, what I'm studying, where my school is, how long I've been in Marseille, I swear I'll scream. I've had enough. There are only so many new people you can meet before you start to get a bit fed up. Rachel was supposed to be looking at an appartment at 19h so I went with her and Lucy to look at it. The trouble was the landlord hadn't got back to her about it so she presumed not to go. We went down towards La Prefecture to get something to eat. There were English speaking people everywhere and every restaurant had tables of rugby fans. We found somewhere and sat down but the menu wasn't all that impressive. The rugby fans on the table next to us presumed we were french but then, when they realised we were English, they started asking us where we were from, why we were in Marseille. I was so fed up. What's the point? I just said to Lucy and Rachel when they asked me what I was going to order that I was going to go home. I'd had enough. I didn't want to sit making idle conversation about all and nothing. I didn't want to sit and pick at some meal that I didn't want. I didn't want to go back to see the other assistants after we'd eaten. I wanted to go home, have a shower and something to eat and go to sleep. Today has been a hard day - apart from the first weekend, this has been the first time I haven't wanted to be here. Can I go home now please?
