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| Chez moi, pour l'instant |
31.8.10
A Tour of Tours
Let me set the scene: Tours is a small patchwork of white, grey-roofed houses, rivers (Loire and Cher), and handkerchief-size parks. I'm taking prep classes at the Institut de Touraine, where one of my classrooms has the sky and swallows painted on the ceiling.
I've been wandering quite a bit and have found, to my delight, that I have a sense of direction. I love walking with no destination, no rush to be someplace.
There is a park of extraordinary beauty near my host family's house. Les français of all shapes and ages throng to the park, which may change as the school year begins. I can't help watching the children with their mothers. A favorite moment a couple of days ago: I overheard a little boy tell his mom he wanted to go home, and she replied, "To do what? There's nothing to do at home!"
The local nighttime hangout on the banks of the river, simply called La Guinguette, has live music most nights and is packed full of all sorts of people. Place Plumereau, the main square in Old Tours, bustles and pulses with life into the wee hours of the morning.
The logo for the city is a turret with a rainbow coming out of it.
Sugar and spice,
Maria
I've been wandering quite a bit and have found, to my delight, that I have a sense of direction. I love walking with no destination, no rush to be someplace.
There is a park of extraordinary beauty near my host family's house. Les français of all shapes and ages throng to the park, which may change as the school year begins. I can't help watching the children with their mothers. A favorite moment a couple of days ago: I overheard a little boy tell his mom he wanted to go home, and she replied, "To do what? There's nothing to do at home!"
The local nighttime hangout on the banks of the river, simply called La Guinguette, has live music most nights and is packed full of all sorts of people. Place Plumereau, the main square in Old Tours, bustles and pulses with life into the wee hours of the morning.
The logo for the city is a turret with a rainbow coming out of it.
Sugar and spice,
Maria
30.8.10
C'est quoi blogger?!
Bonjour Reader!
I'm sitting in my room in my host family's house in Tours; the warm, yeasty smell of tomorrow's bread is winding its way up the deep-creaking stairs to my room, and my thoughts are rising with it.
I've been thinking a lot about whether or not I want to write a blog about my year abroad, and I've decided to go for it.
I forewarn you now, Reader, that I may never post another message; I may write pathetic epics about what I'm feeling instead of robust vignettes about what I'm doing; I may post only boring, bad pictures that have no people in them.
In fact, I will probably do all of those things.
On the other hand, I may be a wonderfully whimsical, interesting and inventive blogger.
Guess we'll see!
Bisous,
Maria
I'm sitting in my room in my host family's house in Tours; the warm, yeasty smell of tomorrow's bread is winding its way up the deep-creaking stairs to my room, and my thoughts are rising with it.
I've been thinking a lot about whether or not I want to write a blog about my year abroad, and I've decided to go for it.
I forewarn you now, Reader, that I may never post another message; I may write pathetic epics about what I'm feeling instead of robust vignettes about what I'm doing; I may post only boring, bad pictures that have no people in them.
In fact, I will probably do all of those things.
On the other hand, I may be a wonderfully whimsical, interesting and inventive blogger.
Guess we'll see!
Bisous,
Maria
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