The rainy 15 minute walk from the train station to her house in the ‘old section’ of town was not totally smooth sailing. Highlights include one of my bags catching on a rock, overturning, and landing in a puddle. Monique offering to help carry one of my bags then promptly followed this spill. I gladly accepted her help. It was a few moments before I realized she was carrying my heaviest bag but she was forging ahead and I don't know how to say "That one too heavy" au français. Not two minutes later, one of the straps on the duffle bag that I received for free with my opening of an account at Oneida Savings snapped. So I then carried it with the other strap, which proceeded to break in record time. You get what you pay for. So with a duffle under my arm and suitcase in tow, I marched on.
Also, I often forget how much I do not enjoy walking. I think my flat feet have something to do with it. But despite getting off on the wrong, or should I say flat foot, I am enjoying myself.
Imagine the cliché European old world alleyway/street sort of deal from every movie ever set in Europe- balconies, narrow cobble stone streets and all. Monique lives on one such street. Everytime I step outside I have to remind myself that this is where I am living and that I am in fact awake. I still havent stopped walking with my face towards the sky yet.
I asked her how old the house (although I don’t really think you could call it a house, its more of an apartment I guess) was and she said the oldest section was built in the 14th century. Since my house was built in the 70s this is way more history than I am used to living in.
Oldest Part of the House
I read somewhere that in Europe, staring at other people is not as rude as it is at home. This seems to be on par with my experience thus far having gotten stared shamelessly multiple times and I am only too happy to participate in this custom as it serves to add to one of my favorite hobbies state side. Today at the café, I noticed that almost everyone was sitting side by side so they could face the street. I wanted to take a picture but am trying my best to not come off too aggressivly as a tourist. Here, people watching is not a pastime, but rather a sport. We were talking about this and decided it is one of the reasons that people are always look more put together than at home. Also as I post this a midget just walked by. To be a midget in the country with this as your national sport has gotta be rough.
People watching > Walking
I asked her how old the house (although I don’t really think you could call it a house, its more of an apartment I guess) was and she said the oldest section was built in the 14th century. Since my house was built in the 70s this is way more history than I am used to living in.
Oldest Part of the HouseI read somewhere that in Europe, staring at other people is not as rude as it is at home. This seems to be on par with my experience thus far having gotten stared shamelessly multiple times and I am only too happy to participate in this custom as it serves to add to one of my favorite hobbies state side. Today at the café, I noticed that almost everyone was sitting side by side so they could face the street. I wanted to take a picture but am trying my best to not come off too aggressivly as a tourist. Here, people watching is not a pastime, but rather a sport. We were talking about this and decided it is one of the reasons that people are always look more put together than at home. Also as I post this a midget just walked by. To be a midget in the country with this as your national sport has gotta be rough.
People watching > Walking
No comments:
Post a Comment