Fox en France Ep.6: Turn around, bright (purple) eyes

Saturday 8^th Oct

Like a bad TV drama, we return to the scene of the morning after… A sluggish group trip to the boulangerie on my street started the official weekend and eventually my assistant pals returned back to their far flung corners of the côte d’armor. I was so overtired during breakfast that when presented with teaspoons next to our pastries, I absentmindedly used it. Ever eaten a muffin with a teaspoon? I advise against it completely.

Well-deserved boulangerie trip

Muffin debacle over, I jumped (crawled) onto a bus to get to Rennes for the weekend. Unfortunately, that very fact – that it was indeed the weekend – obviously made my life a little harder as I had to journey on a completely illogical route to get there. Public transport being my obvious Number One Nemesis (to the point where I’d definitely propose a bus timetable as the next Bond villain) meant that instead of sighing with relief as my train left the station (with me on it), I was filled with a creeping panic that I was being carted off somewhere else entirely. And knowing me I’d be half way to Amsterdam before clocking that something was really off. At least I knew I was going somewhere for the weekend (it was the right train).

American assistant Meghan (musical theatre graduate, a.k.a the dream), hosted me and uni friend Alistair for the weekend – an impromptu arrangement so I really can’t say how grateful I was for that – and an absolute highlight was their new kitten Whiskey. He was so small that I often lost sight of him completely, and there came an awful moment where I crossed my legs and heard an odd squeak as the little thing flew from under my chair. A sentence you never want to say is: “Oh my god I’m so sorry, I think I just kicked your cat!” Makin’ friends for life across France.

A trip to the ever-famous rue de la soif (literally speaking, ‘Thirsty Street’) ended a brilliant Saturday, and Meghan told me she was going to find me a “hashtag winabew”. And if you correctly guess what that means, I’ll get you one too.

SO:

Clouds: I am officially made of evil kitten-kicking atoms, and I ruined my own muffin experience by overdoing cutlery. Tragic, I know, lesson learned.

Silver linings: Kind strangers made wonderful hosts, I’ve had a taste of the French nightlife here, and I’ve heard that my wifi box has arrived and awaits me in the post office. Sweet.

Sunday 9^th Oct

Beautiful streets in Rennes (shame about the crane)

Another empty French Sunday sweeps past – helped a bit by the fact that I was still in Rennes. The MacDonalds drive through was the only thing open (what a country, what a culture) and it was a cold, cold day so the whole thing kind of blurred in one, long, semi-rank, semi-great McFeast until Alistair and I realised we should probably head back to our one-horse towns (and there’s not even a horse in mine).

Transport was non-existent so I booked a car share online to trek back; I can’t pretend I was at ease, per se, with going against every lesson I was ever taught as a child (strangers’ cars etc.) but I was delighted to find my car hosts were an incredibly friendly woman and her three year old daughter. The other paying passenger sat in the front so I spent an hour in the backseat practising a completely new French dialect: child speak. The little girl was so infectiously bonkers I was giggling with slight delirium whether I knew what she was saying or not (“Your French is good, don’t worry, she just makes up a lot of words”, her mother told me).

There was something deliciously surreal about driving through acres of countryside sunset, while it was explained to me, gently but gravely, that “the little pony’s name is Annalise and her eyes are bright pink and purple because she has met her husband”.

Once home I thought I might collapse on the spot from the lack of sleep, but my colleague Nadine invited me to have dinner with her family, and to be honest, cider, yet more crêpes and good company were potentially the only things that could have perked me up at that point. So in the end I started and ended the weekend the same way: happy, grateful and very well-fed.

Then, as four mammoth, juicy (albeit metaphorical) cherries-on-top, Nadine told me, while kindly driving me home, that she had a bike I could borrow, and gave me some traditional Réunion cooking from her daughter’s boyfriend’s mother (comically tenuous but so appreciated). Meanwhile, my stove has been fixed (haaaallelujah) and so has my kitchen light. I would have spent more time squealing ecstatically about everything if I hadn’t instantaneously dropped dead asleep.

SO:

Clouds: I kind of wish I had bright purple eyes too.

Silver linings: I have a potential bike, lovely neighbours and colleagues, I had live entertainment during the hour long car journey, and you can tell by the ridiculous nature of my ‘clouds’ that this weekend has been brilliant.