Adventure race cancelled, Fellow American located

Unfortunately, my crazy adventure race was cancelled, which was somewhat disappointing.  However, since my alarm clock died yesterday and the race required a 6 a.m. wakeup, it may have been for the best.  To make up for the disappointment, my teammates took me out for beers last night to an Irish pub…complete with U2 playing on the stereo, an array of Irish beers on tap, and–gasp–an American bartender!  Straight from South Bend.  We didn’t talk for too long, but it was great to speak English quickly and without trying to avoid slang or contractions, and to talk NCAA basketball!  The other two bartenders at the pub are Brits, so now I know of a place to stop in when I can’t handle any more French for the moment.

My other interesting observation from yesterday also involves something American.  I was walking to the bar, it was about 9:30 at night, and I was on a quiet dark street when all of a sudden I heard the loud buzz of a little motorbike.  The bike moved into view, and it was a guy in a Domino’s Pizza jacket with a little hot-pizza-box teetering on the back of the bike!  I had no idea that they had American pizza here, and the motor bike delivery is hysterical.  I will have to do a stake-out some night and get a picture. 

It is sunny on a weekend here for once, so I’m off to enjoy it.  The rains are forecast to move in again tomorrow. 

Nantes

Today I went to Nantes for the day with my boss to meet with another investigator on our project. Although it was another rainy day, the ride up and back was beautiful, mostly along agricultural fields…many unplanted, some vineyards, lots of cows and sheep grazing. Also some small towns with lovely old stone buildings. Nantes is on the Loire River, and we had lunch overlooking the river.
And there were even some touches of home (NC home): on the highway, we passed both a military convoy and a truck full of caged pigs. Like Highway 70! Only french.
Agriculture in this part of France, my boss told me, has not been well designed ecologically. Lots of the fields are drained wetlands, and many of the crops require a lot of water, stealing away water flow that is beneficial downstream to the oysters which are the main money-maker for the coast. They are just coming out of a multi-year drought in this area, so apparently I shouldn’t complain too much about the rain.

There really is something off about US Airways

I complain a lot about US Airways, but for the majority of the time I lived in Carteret County it was the only airline that served our corner of the world and therefore I had no choice but to fly on it if I wanted to get most anywhere in the US in less time than it would take to drive.  Yes, MOST of the time they have (eventually) gotten me where I needed to go, sometimes even with luggage (although they did lose my luggage once at Christmas, forcing me to reunite with childhood friends in mom-jeans, grandma-undies, and a loose Eddie Bauer turtleneck, and then there is the France thing).  But it never seemed like there was much pride or cheer involved in serving the customers–good, friendly service was the exception more often than the rule, and yet somehow their service business has survived without much of a concern for actual service.  (Two friends of mine have piloted for US Airways, and I have encountered genuinely nice people at times in my 200,000 plus miles on US Air, so this is definitely directed at the corporation in general and not at individuals, except for the flight attendent who spilled orange juice on me and then snapped at me when I politely asked for a napkin.)

Complain as I might, I have to say that I never want to complain too much about airlines because they do control your life 30,000 feet up in the air.  So you suffer the indignities because at least they have kept you alive in your travels.  But, now, having gotten my daily dose of internet news on CNN International, I am no longer quite so sure about this:

Pilot suspended after firing gun in cockpit

WASHINGTON (CNN) — A US Airways pilot who accidentally discharged his handgun in the cockpit during a flight has been suspended from the federal program that permits pilots to carry firearms and has been removed from flight duty pending the outcome of an investigation, the Transportation Security Administration said Tuesday.

The mid-air incident, which occurred at 8,000 feet as the plane approached Charlotte, North Carolina, on Saturday, was the first in the history of the Federal Flight Deck Officer program, which has trained thousands of pilots to carry weapons to increase aviation safety.

TSA declined to give details about how the gun discharged, but the agency is investigating whether the pilot was handling the gun as directed in policies.

The bullet from the H&K USP .40-caliber gun penetrated the left side of the fuselage but did not hit any crucial wiring or instrumentation, TSA said.

The End of Lent

Easter is past, and with it my first three-day weekend in France (so much for no mixing of Church and State.) And for Lent, I went without…who can count? Cheddar cheese, tofu, ice cream, beer, driving, girls’ nights, boyfriends, television, BBC news, riding a racing bike, all sorts of things. But unfortunately those were not sacrificed for religious piety, but for a job. Hmmm, I guess that means my Lent is not officially over. Some sacrifices may eventually be put to the wayside, but for now there is no end in sight.

Easter weekend was slightly less rainy that predicted, although it was incredibly windy most of the time. Windy as in sustained 30 mph winds much of the time, which I haven’t really experienced except in tropical storms and on a beautiful mountaintop in Hawaii where you could literally stand with arms outstretched at a 45 degree angle to the ground with no fear of losing your balance. There were enough sunny stretches to get two long runs in, but other than that I mostly worked and read. I’m working my way through a biography of Eleanor of Aquitane (she granted La Rochelle its first charter and apparently imported wine from La Rochelle to her court in England) but I have to supplement the rather dry style with something lighter, first a mystery thriller that is the Shakespearean sister of the Da Vinci Code (entertaining but not enlightening) and now a fantastic book by Richard Powers called The Echo Maker. I guess it won the National Book Award in 2006–I was more out of it for 2006 than I thought, since I don’t remember reading a thing about it then. Lots of things make me think of friends and relatives who would love it–it is set in Nebraska, the main character is named Karin, it talks about cranes, and it is interwoven with neuroscience. Highly recommended.

My First French Meeting solo

So, I’m awfully proud of myself in that today I had to go to a meeting at the Prefecture to turn in the last of the paperwork for my work visa, and I did it BY MYSELF and in French.  Granted, the woman spoke ultra-slow and in very basic vocabulary, but I was dreading being thrown on the street and beaten with stale baguettes and told to come back only with a translator. 

The weather forecast for Easter weekend is rain, rain, rain, up and down the Atlantic coast of France, so my thoughts of heading off to sight-see for the weekend are no more.  Hopefully the weather will change and  I will be able to do at least a long day of bike sight-seeing around here.  I still haven’t made it out to Ile de Re, which must be worth seeing since Johnny Depp likes to vacation there, and it is free on a bike.  If not, I have a lot of work to do anyway and found a bookstore with a small corner of English books so my little pile has grown slightly larger again, and I have some mysteries to round out the classics and nonfiction that I over-packed (although they do take longer to read, so I guess it was a better use of packing space).

Freezing here, literally

Last night it got down to freezing!  I think it will again tonight.  I am not happy with this unusually cold spring.

I am signed up to do some crazy adventure-type race with some graduate students and another post-doc from my department.  It is two days, the first day in La Rochelle with a scavenger hunt (in French, so I don’t see myself benefiting the team much, unless one of the things to scavenge is a non-French speaking redhead) and the second day in the woods with kayaking, biking, running, archery, horse-back riding, climbing…like I said, crazy.  I have never done archery, and I was not of legal drinking age the last time I was on a horse (which was only the third time in my life I ever rode a horse).

I found out that I can’t get a cell phone until I have my residency card from the government (or at least the number of the card) so I have yet to rejoin the 21st century.  Actually, the 20th century, since I don’t have a radio and was sort of counting on my phone to serve that role as well.

Missing everyone!  Watch some basketball for me and eat Cadbury eggs for me–or better yet, watch basketball and stash Cadbury eggs somewhere safe for me so I can have one when I come home to visit!

Running, and running away

On my last two long runs (okay, one turned into a long walk but it was Friday afternoon and I was exhausted), I have had a car stop next to me.  This has happened before, and the cars then contained lost people who were not thrilled to find that I do not speak French and was also about as lost as they were.  However, Friday afternoon two eighteen-twenty year old guys stopped and when I did my usual shrug-palms in the air–”Je ne parle pas francais…” thing they said, “English?” 

Thinking they were lost, I nodded, and then they started asking me (barely in English) where I lived and what I was doing for Friday night.  I started to walk away, and they slowly followed me in the car and kept asking questions, in what was a mix of French, English, and Spain-Spanish.  Finally I told them in Spanish that I was going to finish my walk, and they kept following me until I promised to check out their MySpace page.  (I don’t think I really look like I’m 18; maybe I don’t look my age but I don’t think I look like I’m the generation that picks up college boys on their MySpace pages either).

Then yesterday, Sunday morning, another car stops next to me while I’m out running and this time I sort of edge away, seeing a man about my age or a little older.  But he backs up as I continue on, and starts babbling in French.  Over my shoulder, I call out that I don’t understand French, and he starts yelling, “But we can kiss!”  EEEEEWWW!!!!   It was freezing out, sort of drizzling, and I was bundled up in sweats, a fleece, and about three shirts.  Plus I was wearing my sunglasses that my dad claims make me look like a bug.  I was not out in just a sports bra and spandex, or anything that might look the least bit inviting. 

So, time to stick to the running paths that don’t allow cars.  No one hits on me when I’m walking around town looking like a normal human being, just when I’m disgusting and sweating.  Not a good first impression of French motorists.

Pictures, just not mine

So, posting pictures taken by me is going to have to wait until I’ve either returned home and found my USB cord for my camera or until I’ve found the French equivalent of Radio Shack and managed to buy a compatible cord using my extremely limited French. But, I did locate some pictures on the web to tide you over, although they are more artsy than they type I take myself and also don’t cover my favorite spots well, but they are pretty.
Here (click to see the picture site) is the little port that I encounter if I take one of the three roads to the beach near my apartment, called the little Port du Plomb. Lots of small boats are harbored here, there is a little lighthouse, and a small bridge across the harbor that takes you to the trails along the sea cliffs that go on seemingly forever. There are lots of oyster and mussel aquaculturists in the area, and so you can see racks and racks of bivalves on the shore at low tide. There are also lots of ponds in the marshes that are used by the aquaculturists. This picture shows the growing racks.

This is the town just north of me. The nearest grocery store and cash machine, although not much else different than L’Houmeau. But there are no pictures looking at L’Houmeau, so you are going to have to settle for this for the moment to get an idea of the countryside.

I have a rough commute to work–once off the bus, I pass through the old part of town, under the big clock, around the old port, and down into Les Minimes, home to the University of La Rochelle and the largest pleasure boat marina on the Atlantic coast of France. I could take a second bus and save a whole four minutes, but you can see why I usually choose just to walk. My bike route takes me along here as well, once I’ve passed through the countryside, an oldish neighborhood of La Rochelle, and then a gardened park that runs down the middle of the city.

There are 13 pages of La Rochelle pictures at Trek Earth, you can start at the first page here. You can also check out other nearby areas, such as Ile de Re, by clicking on the appropriate link on the left side of this link.

Sarah’s Birthday

I haven’t seen any gray hairs and I did get to eat at ’student price’ today at lunch, but here is something to make me feel ancient:  my baby sister turned 29 today.  I can still remember standing on the landing in my grandparent’s house (the phone next to the hot-pink velvet window seat) and talking to my parents in the hospital.  I don’t remember caring much about the baby or not, but I remember being somewhat ornery that my parents had chosen to name the baby ‘Sarah’ instead of ‘Renee,’ which was my first choice.  Happy Birthday, Sarah J.!

Food

Obviously, one has to eat every day, or just about every day, to be a functioning member of society.  Thus, I have made a lot of observations about food while here.  I will share some with you.

1.  Onions are really expensive in France.  1 kg of onions (plain old everyday onions, yellowish-white) costs about 5 euros, which means that a pound of onions is about $3.50.  I’m used to onions being one of the super-cheap things in the produce section!

2.  Sweet potatoes are sold in the fruit section of the grocery store, between grapes and oranges.

3.  I usually have issues with farm subsidies, and I think the US has a lot of issues with agriculture and politics mixing a bit too much.  But I REALLY miss soy beans and would be willing to buy a little into the agricultural machine just to have tofu, cheap soy sauce and cheap soy milk.  Soy products are expensive, almost prohibitively so (yes, I could afford it, but do I really need to be drinking soy milk thinking that it is about the same price as a tasty bourbon, ounce for ounce?)

4.  Things that do not get their own aisles in American grocery stores get their own aisles in France.  Chopped up meat products (because ham is so hard to cube when you buy it in slices or hunks), yogurt (actually, yogurt has almost two aisles), chocolate bars.  Yes, there is the chocolate bar aisle, and then there is the candy shelf.  However, mint is not a common thing to mix with chocolate in France, so I’m not too crazy about the chocolate bar aisle (I have to spend most of my time trying to figure out from my limited French and the not-helpful picture on the front of the bar whether they have put some dreadful flavoring in the bar I am thinking about buying).

5.  “Foreign” foods are super expensive.  And uncommon.  In one tiny section of the grocery store–smaller than the shampoo section– are the foreign foods, which includes Mexican (salsa, $7.50 for a small jar), soy sauce ($4.00 for a jar the size of a table-top salt shaker), a big area devoted to Spanish food (Spain being a neighbor, they get more space I guess) and then, mashed between Asian and Spanish food, I did find peanut butter.  However, as if in spite, it is expensive (about $2.00 an ounce) and it is Skippy.  But, if you want to buy pre-made Bechamel sauce, there are multiple options and some of them quite budget-conscious.  Too bad I have never liked creamy things on my pasta or vegetables or protein.

I’m sure I will have more thoughts on food to share, especially once the novelty of roasted vegetables and pasta, roasted vegetables and couscous, roasted vegetables and rice for every meal wears away…