The South (Part II)

Third stop: Aix-en-Provence. Known for being the home of none other than the painter Cézanne, it was hard not to be inspired walking the streets of this bourgeois town.  The streets were swarming with a largely younger crowd of University students. Wandering the side streets at night in search of a worthy restaurant, it was mildly reminiscent of “Midnight in Paris”; pockets of light and laughter would appear down unlikely allies, pulling us in (although unfortunately, Cézanne did not make an appearance).

Roasted chestnuts

Jamming in the street

Stamps at the local market

Classic!

Piles of mushrooms

Jess

Fourth stop: Lyon. The supposed culinary capital of France (I find this hard to believe because there seems to be good food everywhere), Lyon is what I would describe as clean, proper and precise compared to Aix. This being said, we were there for a scant 12 hours, so it’s hard to judge. From what I saw, it was beautiful, and merits a return visit for further exploration. The highlight was the grandiose nature of its architecture, and beautiful fountains.

Hôtel de Ville at night

Grenoble's Bastille

Work as a Language Assistant here has been frantic but fantastic so far. My main task is to work alongside English teachers to compliment their teaching programs and work one-on-one with smaller groups of students to work on their speaking and communicating skills.

About two weeks ago, myself and the 7 other Language Assistants I’m living with attended a workshop in the countryside just outside of Grenoble, a University city of about 500 000. Autrans, a quiet town in the mountains where the workshop was held, was contrasted sharply by the hustle and bustle of the city life in Grenoble.  Both places were beautiful, but I thoroughly enjoyed my visit to the city.

A quiet morning in the countryside

Elena and Fiona in Autrans

 

 

One of the main attractions for tourists visiting Grenoble is the “Bastille”. Not to be confused with its more famous counterpart in France, the Bastille of Grenoble is a fortress that sits on a mountain overlooking the city. A cable car runs from its base to the summit and its view, but there are also lovely paths that twist and turn up to the fortress, which give a peak into the complexity of the structure and its historical importance to the city.

The easy way up

A maze of arches and graffiti

Crows resting on the tram cables

One of the Bastille's tunnels

View of Grenoble

Doran

While the last couple of weeks have been dominated by mundane tasks (getting organized with work, setting up bank accounts, Social Security and Health Insurance), they have of course been punctuated by culinary adventures and outdoor pursuits!

This past week’s hike took place almost literally in the backyard of the school at which I teach in Sallanches. After a quick drive up the mountain to some local trails, myself and my friend Fiona (hailing from Scotland), were soon treading carefully on a bed of crisp fall leaves on our way to a refuge in an area called Doran. With only a few minor glitches, the weather here has been impeccable; the heat of summer is lingering, slowly being replaced by morning frosts and cool nights worthy of a cup of steaming cocoa. On our ascent, we were almost completely covered by the forest’s canopy, but would sometimes come across a turn in the switchback trail allowing for a gorgeous view of Mont Blanc and the Valley d’Arve below.

After a few hours of vigorous trekking, we reached our destination: a beautiful alpine meadow spotted with summer cottages, a refuge serving homemade food, and a small chapel built by the local Boy Scouts.  Setting up camp in front of a cottage that was boarded up in preparation of the coming winter, we were treated to a feast of wine, handmade sausages, and various French delicacies. It must be said that the French know how to hike, and they also know how to relax once the hiking is done. I, for one, would hesitate at the thought of packing a heavy bottle of wine into my daypack and lugging it up a mountain!

Here are some shots from our trek up the mountain:

Members of CAF Cluses

Seasonal cottages in the "alpage"

Another beautiful sunny day

Myself and Fiona with a view of Mont Blanc

Because my memory often fails me...

Local watering hole

Christian and Fiona 

 

 

 

 

Annecy and the Alps

I’ve been in France for less than week, and already, I have to say it: AMOUR. Now that the details of life have been sorted out (somewhere to live and transportation), it’s time to enjoy a croissant from a local boulangerie.  The list of people I’ve met here continues to grow at a worrying pace: Mélina, Anna, Margot, Helena, Deirdre, Fiona, Norah (assistants from Mexico, England, Paraguay, Italy, Ireland, Scotland, Germany), Sophie, Claude (two wonderful English teachers who are supervising me), Harvé (the school’s all-around handy man who is trying heroically to fix our internet problem), Yann (the school’s plumber who loves swimming and took me to the local swim club, I’ll be pro before you know it)…and I could go on.

After being ping-ponged around (in my head more than anything), I’ve finally settled into a room at a school in Cluses, still a valley town but about 12km away from Sallanches. The slightly industrial feel the city has is a result of the precision machining plants that are scattered around town. Before such industries were brought into the region, farmers would find themselves unemployed during the winter seasons; Switzerland’s watch industry fueled the development of plants for making tiny parts for watch making in the valley, and the industry grew from there.  Interesting, no?

A highlight of the past week was visiting the beautiful town of Annecy, an hour’s voyage by train, as well as going on a hike with the Cluses chapter of le Club Alpin Français.  We were greeted warmly by this group of outdoors enthusiasts and were privy to some beautiful mountain views that included encounters with the local wildlife. 

Some views from Annecy and the local mountains:

Je suis arrivée!

After months of deliberation, a week or so of panic, and a day's worth of travel totaling just under 7000 km, I've finally arrived. Sallanches, a little town in the heart of the French Alps. At about 16 000 inhabitants, it thankfully doesn't meet one online forum poster's description of "grim".  Nestled in a valley between mountains, and dappled with the unique beauty of European architecture, "quaint" or "lovely" would be a more appropriate description.

Despite being jet lagged and more than a little tired upon my arrival, Sallanches greeted me with a stunning rainbow that hugged the city:

However, from my place on a bench in the town square, the rainbow (and myself for that matter), did not go unnoticed. Despite his sunny (drunk) disposition, this fellow turned out to be a little too friendly. Upon rejecting his advances, it was quickly pointed out that I was racist, after which I took my leave and proceeded to the local brasserie to relax with a beer. Although my first encounter with a local in the town was less than ideal, at least I was left with this memory:

















I haven't encountered any more outlandish accusations, as the hotel owners and other people I've encountered have been helpful and courteous. My accent gets noticed but usually sparks conversation, so it's been a blast speaking French, and I can't wait to start picking up some of the local dialect. So far, so good. The only thing missing so far is an apartment, and my Canadian loved ones! <3

A view of Mont Blanc from Sallanches:

 

Le Hôtel du Mont Blanc (my current residence):