The Updated Version

Hey Everyone! So I'm going to apologize un petit peu for being so lax with the bog stuff over the past month. I can't believe I let it go for a month. Anyhow, below you will find the entries from our break at the end of October. That was one of the most incredible weeks of my life. Since then we have had two weeks of class, nothing too major to report.
The grading system in France is really really out of wack. Everything is out of 20, and if you get a 15 out of 20 that doesn't directly convert into a percentage grade. The first grades I got back were 15/20, 16/20, and 17/20. I saw those numbers and got really really upset. I was like well, so much for my 4.0 this term. However, the top of the paper said "Tres Bon". My face immediately contorted with full out confusion, hand shot up in the air, and it was about all I could do not to blurt out "You french people really out of our F*ing minds!" It turns out that anything above an 15.5/20 is great. Like on the edge between A and A-, and a 20/20 is essentially unachievable. A mentality like that makes you really want to strive for perfection...NOT.
In other news, I haven't gotten arrested. I finally got a bike, and have been riding a lot like. Sunday rides are usually about 130 km (80 miles), and I will update on the rest of the stories at a later date. Im tired, thats all for tonight. Check out everything below, too. New news. A bien tot.

BARCELONA!

So after spending three full nights (including Halloween) in Barcelona, I can safely say I have a solid feel for this city. It is INSANE!!!!!!!! The Spanish have the most messed up daily routines on the face of the planet. We'll start with lunch (because we never actually woke up early enough for breakfast). Lunchtime in Barcelona is about 3 PM. Most restaurants that are "chic lunch places" are either closed or totally empty until about 2-3:30PM. After a long relaxing lunch, everyone goes and does their thing for a bit, and then at around 5-6 the city shuts down: Siesta time. Stores close, full restaurant staffs go home, and the only thing left open in the whole city (it feels like), is STARBUCKS! The city then rallies around 7-8 PM to get moving in the dinner direction. Dinner is about 10 PM. Mom and Dad, we should move to Spain, we'd fit in better (minus the Jewish and non-spanish speaking parts). After dinner, the clubs and bars open at about midnight, people go crazy, and start stumbling home at around 4:30-5 AM! You try doing that for three days and tell me how you feel.

I feel like garbage right now, but it hasn't stopped us from seeing the most incredible sights in the world. We saw Sagrada Familia, aka the Gaudi Cathedrale today. I have never been so awestruck by anything in my entire life. No joke. I spent three hours walking through the church (still being built, thats how big it is), trying to keep my jaw off the floor. Unreal.

We also saw the city from the highest possible points. Really cool, just undescribable scenary! Pictures below tell all (and the casualties of the trip, yes all of us).

Dames, Dams, and Graachts

I know it has been a really long time since I have written an entry. Sorry everyone, it has mostly been the same old, and there are only so many days with an obnoxious professor and thursday nights at O'Connell's that one can write about. Anyhow, I will tell you about the past few days.
I feel like nomad. Starting last Wednesday, I have been a world traveler. My parents arrived last Monday to Paris, and I went on Wednesday to see them. Thursday afternoon they came to Rennes and were there 'til Saturday. On Thursday night, my parents (Jon and Gloria) came to my house in Rennes to eat dinner with my host parents (Marguerite and Daniel). Everyone was nervous. I was the only one who was able to carry on a full conversation in both languages. Margeurite and Daniel spoke french, Jon and Gloria spoke english, and it worked. I had minimal translating to do, but when all was said and done, everyone understood eachother and we had a great dinner.
Continuing the nomadic-ness, on Saturday I left Rennes with my parents and we went to Brussels. Cool city. On the list of "must see" cities in Europe. Decent food, AMAZING BEER and cool sights. After two nights in Brussels, it was off to Amsterdam. Amsterdam is often referred to as the drug and sex capital of the world. No one tells you, however, that those two industries are the most highly regulated industries in all of Europe. I still have never smoked weed, but here its easy. There are security cameras on the corner of every street in the Red Light District, and if one were to talk a picture of the girls in windows, they will walk outside, chase you down and throw your camera in the canal. Don't mess. We also got to meet up with Chloe (she's studying there right now), and she showed us around which was great. Tomorrow, back to Brussels, and then onto Barcelona!!!!!!!

Big boys' FAO Schwartz

I have realized it has been about a week since I have blogged. Sorry. I was tired. I will try to be a little better about it this week. I will skip Thursday night, because nothing was going on and I fasted all day, so nothing major. Friday I had no class, so I went to the bank and got my REAL EUROPEAN DEBIT CARD. Believe it or not its different. Most places here have the real swipers for credit cards like we have back home. However, some places only have the things for Euro cards. Basically there is a special thing on the front of the card so you only have to insert it 1/3 in and then they hand the whole unit (its WIFI, pretty cool), and you punch in your pin number, and it prints your receipt then and there. One of the few efficient methods of doing a simple process that I have run into in Europe. (I feel like everything just gets done in the most difficult way possible.)
Anyhow, Saturday was awesome. 3 of the 4 Union guys pulled a day trip to Paris to go see the "Salon Mondiale Automibile" or the Paris Auto Show. It was incredible. There were over 500 brands of cars there. No, not 500 cars, 500 BRANDS of cars. It was everything from the new Corvette ZR-1, to the new Ferrari California, to the even newer electric and hydrogen cars. Really interesting stuff. We spent from 10 AM- 7:15 PM there. It was almost from the time it opened to the time it closed. It was so much fun. I felt like I was picking out which toy I wanted from the wall at FAO Schwartz, only the prices ranges from 10,000 euros- 800,000 euros. So exciting. Anyhow, test tomorrow, so that's all I have for tonight. A demain.

Normandy

Intensely breathtaking weekend. Omaha Beach, Point d'Hoc, Harbor at Arromanches, and much more. So many cool stories. I don't have the energy tonight. SO, all the pictures from the trip are now at http://gallery.me.com/skigabe. Should be good. There will be stories to go with the pictures tomorrow. Also, everyone who is reading, sign up as a follower please. I just want to know who's following and I can keep track of emails and stuff this way too. EVERYONE! A bientot.

Alright fine...I'll go out!

Sorry to everyone for not having blogged since Tuesday, but the weeks are starting to get fairly rhythmic here, so no one needs to hear about the day to day disasters in classes that appear be lacking the same sparkle and interesting material that classes at Union have. Regardless, there were a couple interesting events. First of all, there is a 28 year old Turkish woman in my class. She married a french dude, and the two of them along with their two friends live on a little farming compound a la Campagne (in the country). This girl is weird, OK? Like, she is the kind of weird that had the rolling back-pack up until the handle broke off of it in the middle of 11th grade. Then she might have even bought another one. Anyhow, we had this miniscule homework assignment. I think it took me about 15 minutes on the TGV home from Munich to actually do it. This girl spent 25 minutes arguing with the professor about how the assignment wasn't clear and blah blah blah, nobody cares, you didn't do your homework, get over it. I guess you could say I was pretty sympathetic towards her *sarcasm*.
The other thing that got me in classes this week was a more legitmate issue. Prof. Ndiaye had an afternoon discussion with us on Thursday to just talk about life. He mentioned to us that some of the professors had mentioned to him they had some weird experiences. For example at Union, every student goes to class puts a (silenced) cell phone, iPod, and a bottle of water, or a cup of coffee on the table/desk they are sitting at. That's just the way it is. Everybody walks around with a bottle of water. Not here. The french don't hydrate. Bottled water is pricey, and a Nalgene or a Sigg...what's that? So anyhow, we walk in to class with bottles of water and apparently it weirds out the Profs. The same thing with any kind of headcovering....ANY KIND. We have an Egyptian girl in on of my classes. She's Muslim and wears the typical Muslim Hijab (name for the headcovering I think), and the Professor FINDS IT WEIRD. It is kind of ridiculous. A baseball hat I can understand, but if you have a problem with it, come out and say it. We are all 20+ years old. We are adults. We can handle someone saying take off your hat. We're not going to run out of the room crying if we get spoken to. It's nuts.
In other news, last night was Thursday night...duh. O'Connell's is becoming the traditional starting point for our Thursday outings. I really want to get a job there, but I'm not so sure my visa will let me. It is kind of weird, but if I could work one night/week and make some extra dough, it might be good. Anyhow, we're chilling at the Pub and these 30ish French dudes roll up to the table and offer to buy the ladies a drink. We (as in those with Y chromosomes) somehow became invisible. So while these skeevy, smelly French dudes were crawling on the girls, I noticed a couple packs of BIIIIG guys in jerseys starting to come in. Somewhere in the midst of this inflow of dudes, the 30-somethings had offered to take the girls to a coke rave over the weekend (not CocaCola), and they ran away. By the time we were rid of them there were about 100 rugby players in O'Connell's. IT WAS A RUGBY DRINK UP! A REAL RUGBY DRINK UP! I was in rugger heaven. The game had been earlier that day and it was the Rennes Firefighters team v. The Welsh Firefighters team. In other words, more than half the people in O'Con's last night spoke some form of fluent English. And Welsh, now thats an intimidating language. Regardless, it was so much fun. We sang songs, we drank great beer, talked about rugby, and I made great buddies with the MBE/CEO of (from the research I have done), what may be one of the biggest brand management firms in Europe. Keeping to not mentioning names here, said new friend used to work for IBM marketing AND, he's a sailor and a rugger. The connections that you run into around the world are wild! Thats it for tonight. Normandy tomorrow. Bonne nuit.

Oktoberfest Chapter 2

After about an hour on the train from Augsburg to Munich, we got off and had no idea where the Oktoberfest grounds were. "FOLLOW THE LEDERHOESEN!" Someone from our group yelled those wide words and the 75% of Munich that speaks english looked at us and shook their heads. Great, we're now the laughing stock of at least three cities in Europe. Regardless, we did actually follow the lederhoesen for about six blocks and miraculously wound up at Munich's pearly gates. It was a sight beyond what any of us had ever possibly imagined. There were literally thousands of people doing the "bob-and-weave" trying to get into this Disney World of Bier. We walked in, and we were all in awe. Not only were there tall placards of bier halls all over the place, but there were roller coasters, ferris wheels, dizzy swings, the works. I thought to myself, what person...no...idiot after putting down a couple liters of real Oktoberfest (5.6% alcohol I think) lager, and eating schneitzl, would say, "Heidi, I shtink I'm gonna go and get on the svings das go circles 50 meters above the ground. Ya das vould be fun."
After spending what probably amounted to 30 minutes totally awestruck, we finally wandered over to the Hacker-Pschorr biergarten, found some seats, and ordered a few beers. So I have consumed every kind of beer from frat party garbage beer, to the hand made beers that you can only get in very selected places, and NOTHING compares to how this tasted. NOTHING. This was far and away what a beer made with real Bavarian hand picked hops is supposed to taste like. And they poured it out of an oak keg that was so big I couldn't fit my arms half-way around it. Oh, and we ordered a couple of real pretzels. They were about the width of my shoulders, no joke.
A while later we decided to leave the friends we made at the table we were sitting at and move to a different tent. I was happy with the beer we were drinking and the seats we had, so I didn't really want to move. Anyhow, we moved to the Lowenbrau tent. It was even more awesome there. It was a zoo. There were real, big German beer "wenches" (thats really what they're called) running around with ARMS full of beers. This one lady could carry 20 beers. Thats 20 liters and about 32 lbs of beer. I don't care who you are...that's awesome. Anyhow the Lowenbrau tent was great, except for the grabby italian guy that got himself hit by a Union girl. And, not only did he get a right hook from her, but he also got a big nasty mean beer "wench" to break a beer stein over his head. He was a hurtin' unit.
Now to skip to the major event of Oktoberfest. Now I have been very limited with the names I have mentioned in this blog, and to protect the idiocy of my wonderful fraternity brother, his name will also be omitted from this. We started to go our own ways as it got closer to sunset. We were all staying at the same hostel but some people wanted to stay later than others. I was cooked, so I left with the first group. We checked into this great hostel (HUGE ROOMS), and about two hours later, we got a phone call from the stragglers: "Have you guys seen E? We lost him about two hours ago." Long story short, "E" spent the night wandering around Augsburg trying to find the hostel. He finally found the hostel at 3 AM, passed out in the laudry basement until the housekeeping staff rolled in and told him to go find his friends. At about 7:30 AM, there is a knock on the door. Totally hungover, I tumbled out of bed to see who was adding to my brain burn, and it was E. I didn't know if I wanted to hit him or hug him. I hugged him, learned the story of his night and all was well.
At about 12:30 PM on Sunday we got on the DeutscheBahn (German TGV), and headed for France. Half-way home the driver popped up over the loudspeaker and said in three different languages (German, French, English), "Ladies and Gentlemen, just so everyone is aware, we have just accelerated to about 350 kmh, in our terms, that is 217 mph. Thats the fastest I've ever gone on land. It was awesome. C'est ca.

The Real Oktober Deal.

Well, it actually happened. I went to the beer drinker's holy land. Munich, in the last two weeks of September and the first two weeks of Oktober (I like spelling it that way) is the place where there is once-in-a-lifetime quality beer flowing. The beer comes ouk of tapped real wood kegs/barrels, that are so big I can barely fit my arms half way around them. The breweries that have tents at Oktoberfest, work ALL YEAR for their Oktoberfest brews. AND, every weekend during Oktoberfest, the serve a slightly different brew. So I had a one-time-only beer at Lowenbrau, Paulaner, and Hacker-Pschorr. (Actually I had multiple one-time-only beers at said Bier tents, but who's counting).
So on Friday I didn't have class. I spent the day sleeping, running, enjoying my last shower for what may be the next three days, and packing. Our train left Gare-Rennes for Paris Montparnasse at 16h54 ( 4:54 PM real people time). We got on this incredible bullet looking train (that had 1st class seats througout), and pulled out of Rennes for the first time. Not more than a minute later I look out the window and the scenary of the city I currently call home is disappearing rapidly from my view (130 mph, but again, who's counting). So not more than two hours later we all arrive in Paris Montparnasse and start the trans-Paris excursion to Gare de l'Est (Paris' East Train Station), we are met by a display board that doesn't even have our train on it yet. This train was due to leave at about 10 PM so we were in no rush. We peed in the public restrooms that you have to PAY for, and grabbed a spot to make PB and Js in the train station before our 10 hour journey to Augsburg, Germany got underway.
At about 9:30 PM the track for the train to Augsburgg HBF popped up on the monitors. All 7 of us grabbed our stuff and walked out towards the platform. We turned the corner and there it was. It was our chariot to the land where the beer flows faster than the rivers that brew it, and it was a piece of sh*t. For those of you who have seen the movie Eurotrip (don't waste your time if you haven't) it was exactly that train. Everyone is seated in compartments of six people and not given a lot of space to sleep. This is miserable when the train leaves at 10 PM and is due to arrive in Augsburg at 8:10 the next morning. Luckily, we got to spread out a little bit, and there only wound up being 4 of us in the compartment. Three people took the benches, and Gabe, in his most infinite wisdom, said "eh, the floor doesn't look half bad." It wasn't half bad until about 3:30 AM when the conductors thought it would be a brilliant idea to turn the heat off on the train when it was supposed to freeze overnight. We woke up shivering, adjusted positions, grabbed a couple extra hoodies for me, and went back to sleep until about 7:30. We arrived in Augsburg on time, met up with the Union crew from Belgium (they drove to Oktoberfest from Antwerp), and headed to Munich.

Stay tuned for Chapter 2 tomorrow night, but I'm falling asleep with my computer on my lap, dis, bon nuit.

Oktoberfest.

Whew...It is 1:21 AM, I will tell the story tomorrow. Goodnight.

The Not-So-Final Countdown

I decided to count things today. We'll start with an easy one:

18. Days since I left the States

17. Days since I first made an ass of myself in Europe by hauling four pieces of luggage in circles through Paris

16. Hours per week in class at U. Rennes 2: Haute Bretagne; CIREFE

15. My bus route. All of the drivers are convinced that they are direct descendants of Mr. Mario Andretti, and therefore must drive 3 axle buses like him.

14. 25+ year-old women in my class all of whom are married, and don't speak either French or English.

13. Average number of times I say "Oui" in a full length conversation, before I actually realize whats going on.

12. Weeks left in the semester at U. Rennes 2.

11. Times I asked the woman at the bank to repeat something when I was opening a bank account today.

10. Cents that it costs me to send a text message across the Atlantic Ocean (its free to recieve them though, *cough cough*)

9. Euros that lunch costs around Saint-Anne in center city.

8. Number of times I wanted to pull my hair out in class today because I still feel like I'm in a sixth grade French class.

7. Number of attempts at emailing bicycle people in this city trying to find a bike to ride.

6. Number of tries scored by the New Zealand All-Blacks in Saturday afternoon's Rugby Game, against the France National Team.

5. Number of times I feared for my life during that rugby game.

4. Number of miles I have to stumble home after a night of debauchery.

3. Number of dogs that have tried to attack me on said walk home.

2. The number of Irish Car Bombs it took me to make sure I was still hungover today.

1. Number of times I have been on an 80 foot yacht.

I got so lucky.

It's about 9:30 PM on Sunday night, and I may or may not fall asleep while writing this. It has been a great weekend. The way my so-called academics work out here, I have managed to not have class on Friday. I fear that I will get very very very used to having three-day-weekends. Regardless, Friday night was a planned to be a normal Friday night. And by normal I mean, go out, have a couple, come home and go to bed. Well it was not quite normal. We met up with the U Crew (I was the only guy, which is kinda getting old, Colin, you can come whenever), and they wanted to go to a Hookah bar. I wasn't opposed to that by any stretch. At Union, we have events with Hookah all the time. It's a good way to wind down on a Friday. However, in Rennes, Hookah isn't that popular, and its off the beaten path. We were walking to the bar, which is about 6 blocks from the rue de la Soif (where all the bars are), and I spent the entire time trying to figure out why we were walking AWAY from the bars. That whole concept baffled me. There were less people (which meant less French B.O., more on that later), but the bars were beginning to disappear over the horizon....NOT COOL MAN! Anyhow, after walking into this Hookah bar, not being able to see the end of my nose, and walking out, we found my favorite bar in Rennes.
O'Connell's is a real Irish pub. The bar tenders are all Irish blood, Irish born, Irish proud English speakers, who have lived in Rennes for about a decade. They opened this bar, and have had spinning success with it. And, by the time I left on Saturday night my world was spinning. No, I didn't drink for 24 hours straight. This place is legit cool, and we went back to watch rugby and drink more.
After this "drinking more" I woke up at about 11 AM this morning to a million little people using my brain as a trampoline and a jack-hammer testing site.We were headed to my host family's house in Saint Malo for the day where I GOT TO KITESURF. It was awesome. The wind was up in the bay and there was some chop and we got to GET AIR! It was awesome. New obsession. That's all I have for today, I'm fizzling. A bientot.

Outer Mongolian News Reporters and Chrome Vodka Bottles

So class here at Rennes 2 is legitimately the biggest joke in the history of mankind. Madamoiselle Spruce (6-8 grade french) would be disappointed in the level of difficulty of this course. C'est terrible. Going over how to conjugate simple common use verbs should not be something anyone who can speak french should need to go over. Anyhow, we four Americans in my class were not especially discrete with our unwillingness to branch out or put up with as my dad put it "Mickey Mouse" homework and classwork. Regardless, it turns out that all the women in my class (except for the two Union College girls) are married, not from France, and over 25. The woman who sits next to me is legit from Outer Mongolia (I had my doubts that people actually lived there), and a news reporter. She is learning French so she can become an international interpretor. She already has 2 masters degrees. On the other side of me, sits a Colombian dude who has his bachelors in Anthropolgy, and wants to learn French so he can do his Ph.D. on Latin American's abroad. Interesting characters. Even more interestingly, our common language is French.
Tonight is Thursday, and I don't have class tomorrow. So naturally, I was bound for the rue de la Soif. There is a bar there that is big old prison, converted into the COOLEST bar/discotheque, ever. They only serve topshelf booze (and its relatively cheap), and tonight, international students got in free. The other guys in the group were MIA, so it was me and a couple of the girls here. I either looked like the body guard, or the gay tag along friend. So you know what we did...we just went dancing (Dane Cook, click it). And I mooched off the girls that I was with for their free alcohol. I can't decide if the slimeball bartender was gay and hitting on me too, or giving me the sympathy drinks cuz I was flying solo with the girls. Anyhow, a few free drinks, a couple soul shaking techno songs, and a trophy bottle of ABSOLUT CHROME, and I have one of the girls' rainbow ones here too. Oy, I was the gay friend tonight. Oh well, free booze was good. I'm tired and no class tomorrow. A demain.

I like my daily pastry.

So its 12:29 AM. This is a normal Union College bedtime, but in France, I've been the only one awake for at least two hours. The old wives tale about eating dinner to close to going to bed is a joke. We eat the most ridiculous dinners EVER, and then in a matter of half-hour or forty-five minutes, everyone is out cold in bed. No TV, no family movie, no newspaper: dishes, then bed. So I stay up, drink my Tropicana, and Skype.
The workload at CIREFE is laughable. I am basically taking 8th grade french allllllll over again. And not that I'm complaining about having a light work load, its a little annoying to not be having a satisfying education at what is considered to be a top institution. Regardless, I'll take the gifts, the As and the traveling. Tough life, I know.

Projected Travel Days:
This weekend: ????
Sept 26-28: Oktoberfest, Munich.
October 4-5: Normandie
Oct 10-12: Dublin
Oct 17-19: South Brittany
Oct 25-Nov 2: Mid term break: Parents coming
Nov 7-9th: AMSTERDAM!!
Nov 15th: Mont St Michel
Nov 21-23: ?????
Nov 29: Thanksgiving weekend
December 4-6: Transmusical, Nantes, Robyn
Dec 12-14: Robyn, Last weekend in Rennes

IT STAAAARTS!

Well the inevitable finally became the unavoidable. The immaterial materialized. And, the almighty feared and dreaded was no longer fantasy. School started. So, at 7:30 AM my ANNOYING-AS-HELL alarm clock started yelling. I didn't have class for another 3 hours so the decision was whether or not to get up, be a functioning individual, and go for a run. Meh, functioning is overrated. I shut off my phone, and set my alarms for 8:20 AM, and went back skiing in la la land. I finally rolled out of bed at 8:30, hopped in the true French shower (which actually requires a legitimate hop in and out), had a bowl of Kellogg's Miel Pops (French corn pops), and got on the 15 to Saint-Anne. At Saint-Anne I took the metro, packed full of students, to Universitaire-Villejean, where the Metro emptied.
At 10:25 AM I found myself back in a classroom, dreading the concept of a 2 hour class. Yes, 2 FREAKIN' HOURS. 2. DOS. 20 minutes longer than the longest lectures at Union. At promptly, 10:30 AM, the French version of Professor McGonagall (from Harry Potter), started class. She is quite possible the most articulate native speaker EVER. I like her class. The time passed and she handed out the small homework, which got a brief burst of muffled laughter from all the Union students in the room. It was the present tense conjugations of the verbs etre, avoir, faire, and aller. Thats 6th grade french. Took me exactly 5 minutes and 32 seconds to do.
After that, we went to lunch, and headed to the Carfourama (french Wal-Mart), to buy train tickets for frat-boy heaven......OKTOBERFEST. It was on ordeal, but the fellow-Union student I was purchasing the tickets with, still has my Mastercard, Eurail pass, and Passport, and hopefully my tickets for Beerfes...er...Oktoberfest, too.
At 3:15 when we still hadn't worked out our travel arrangements I had to RUN to the Metro, and try to get all the way to the other end of it in a matter of 10 minutes. I did it. I even beat the prof to class. So as I sat there schfitzing, bit by bit, we went through every single major print newspaper, TV show, and Radio station in France. Kill-me-with-a-spoon-please. Two hours passed nonetheless, and I don't have class on Friday...I think I can survive 12 more bore fests.
Quote of the day (I've been watching V for Vendetta): Vi Veri Veniversumn Vivus Vici- "By the power of truth, I, while living have conquered the universe." Cool to think about. A demain.

Guele de Bois

Sorry its been a couple days since I updated this. Friday had nothing to report except for sleeping 'til 12:30, running, and not going out. Saturday, however, was a different story.
So, Saturday I woke up at about 9:30, looking forward to a pretty cool day. Not only does Madame have the monster yacht, but she also owns a beach house about 45 minutes the other direction in a town called Saint Malo. Its a really cool place. It an old shore vacation town, that has been home to peoples' second homes for centuries. Saint Malo is also famous for the walled in actual village of Saint Malo, that again reminds me of something out of Shrek, Cinderella, or any other Disney movie that has some "old fairy-tale town" setting. You can walk on top of the walls around the 2-mile village perimeter. It's pretty cool. At high tide, the waves roll in and smash on the ocean-side walls while at low-tide, there is a beach rugby field that is used all the time. That is, when its not under water of course.
To that end, my host family's shore house was subject to the same level of tidal excursion. At low tide, you can walk across this so-called "bay", about a half-mile to the ocean. At high tide, 12 feet of water span across this perfect, bay along the Emerald Coast.
Last night was wild. It was the first night we all went out, and we all went out hard. The last bus back to my house was 0:04, aka 12:04 AM (I am starting to get used to the 24-hr time-clock). As one might guess, I didn't make that bus. We planned to go allllllll night. During the week, the morning bus starts at 5:39 AM, but apparently on Sundays it doesn't start 'til 8:30 AM. Great. I'm in center-city at 5 AM, no cabs, and it's still dark out. I opted to walk home. It actually wasn't too bad. Other then the random bum, whose dog tried to attack me. That was cool. They really need to crack down on the homeless people in the city who have dogs. Low and behold, I made it home, with all my limbs, and no blisters from my sandals.
It's about 2:30 PM right now, and the little people in my head are still using my brain as a trampoline. In other words, Guele de Bois=hangover. A demain.

The Difference Between a Drunk Frenchman and a Sober American...

....is solely the blood alcohol level. Boy do the French know how to party. The fact that Union can be said in the same breath as the party scene in Rennes, should make any Fraternity brother proud. Ok, so the way it works:
Rennes is a college town home to 60,000 students Sunday-Thursday. On Friday, nearly every French student in the city leaves town to go home and spend the weekend with their family. Thus, Thursday night becomes the "everyone go out and get s^*t canned" night. I cannot remember whether or not I have already mentioned this, but la Rue de la Soif is home to something like 130 bars, all of which were filled to the brim tonight. FILLED. So, while I was partaking in the "Soif"-ing ny friends and I wondered around our new city in hopes of getting all the sights. Tomorrow will most likely venture into the same are and check out the aftermath. I also watched someone actually get thrown, like "un-deux-trois, heave ho" out the door into the gutter. He proceeded to puke, and then get peeled off off the sewer drain by a combination of the cops and his friends. He paid A LOT to get that drunk.
I had my first phone conversation in French today. It was a wild experience. I was calling the Velodrome in hopes of finding SOME kind of bicycle to ride so I don't have to swim (which I still secretly hate), and running which just hurts. I found the best way to handle the language is to introduce myself as an exchange student. Then people address me like an adult, speak to me in French, but slow enough so I can still understand them. In the meantime, it's 1:39 AM, and thats all I've got.

MKB...this is your shout out- you owe me. Miss everyone back at the U.

Cycling, Socialism, Nudity, and Shopping

So last night I was chilling and looking at Velo News, and seeing what was new in that worlds. Turns out Credit Agricole has been kicking some serious butt in the Vuelta D'Espagne (essentially the tour de Spain). Part of that butt kicking effort has been Sebastien Hinault, a Bretagne native, who rides for France. It also turns out that Sebastien Hinault, is the boyfriend of a year-and-a-half to on of the girls host mom's. It also turns out that he has a CA team issue bike that hopefully fits, waiting for me, when he gets home! STOKED!
8 AM seems to be a good hour to wake up here. It is in the midst of the morning rush, so the busses and the metro run very often, and the pastries are fresh and hot. There was nothing on schedule today, so we got to play. I hopped on the 15 at about 8:30 AM without my Special K Chocolate breakfast, and headed to the pool for a swim. It appears that my body will no longer tolerate running in the morning and functioning for the rest of the day, so swimming it is. The pool at Brequigny park is amazing. It is 50 meters with a wall at the 25 meter line that elevates from the floor of the pool. There is also a full diving tower. It's pretty cool. So after having not swam (for real) for about 6 months, and not having done a long course work out since Christmas of my freshman year, I had my work cut out for me. I walked into the lobby and saw the desk where I assumed you pay. The clerk looked at me and told me to go in. I didn't get it...I don't have to pay....COOL! I like not paying taxes in a nation where everyone pays for EVERYTHING.
I walk through the gate and back towards what I assumed was the locker rooms. I walk down the stairs and there was a big sign that read "PIEDS NUS" (bare foot zone) in huge letters. I took my shoes off and continued down the corridor to find the men's locker room. The entire area was just a bunch of stalls where you walk in one side to change, and out the other for the pool. I walked towards the pool (with my stuff, I learned that lesson in New Orleans), swam my 2000 meters, and moved on. I was walking back towards the showers to set my stuff down, and I walk in and there's naked people EVERYWHERE. Not just guys...EVERYONE. At 9:30 AM on a weekday it is retirees and their very, very young grandkids...NAKED. YUCK. AH! I proceeded to take the fastest shower ever, and hit the highway.
My next stop was a bakery en route to the metro stop. I ordered a Briochette au Chocolat, and jus d'orange. She opened the cooler and reached for a can of OJ, and there it was. A carton of TROPICANA!!! WOOOHOOOOOOO! Finally. I arrived. IT WAS AWESOME!
We spent the rest of the shopping around Rennes. It was great. Lunch was about 8 bucks, and I bought almost nothing else today, which will make people happy at home *cough cough DAD*. I am fighting off my shoppers fatigue hard...so maybe more later tonigh. A bientot.

Grumbling and Growling

It's about 6:30 PM on this cloudy I afternoon. I am debating going to sit outside and write this, but my feet hurt worse than my legs did yesterday, so my bed "tres petit" bed is the location today. Last night was a lot of fun. At one point during the evening I observed that Rennes and Schenectady, NY could not be any more different. Rennes is a spectacular college town and cultural center. Schenectady is not (far from it). Schenectady has one of the prettiest college campuses in the country. Rennes does not (very, very far from it). The list continues but last night at about 10 PM I grabbed the 15 in to Saint-Anne where most of the night life occurs. In the Saint-Anne area, there is a street called "rue de la Soif"...or thirsty street. "Rue de la Soif" is home to about 100 bars, thus making Rennes the perfect college town. Jumping backwards for a minute, the social tone on this trip is interesting. There are 4 guys, and 17 girls. Good ratio right? Since one of the guys is my roommate from freshman year (those stories exist), and another is his best friend, guy #3 (a Sig Chi, I'll get over that) and I will be left to fend for ourselves. So, naturally we spend lots of time with the lovely ladies on this trip.
Last night, when we arrived in Saint-Anne, the girls immediately flocked to the psychodelically lit bar in a corner of the courtyard. Mr. Sigma Chi was not there yet, so I followed the gaggle...into a gay bar. As soon as we sat down I knew it, and the girls were oblivious, "gee, thanks guys" was about all I could get out before someone put a beer down in front of me. Free beer! Woo hoo! The waiter pointed at the dude who bought it for me. He was french-master-sketch to the enth degree. I nodded in to show my thanks, chugged my beer and was out door before anyone had time to ask me what was going on. Went to another bar with Mr. Sig Chi and had 6 euro stout, and called it a night.
Today was interesting. We got a chance to see the facility where we'd be taking classes this semester. It sucks. Its on the fourth floor of a colorless cement building accessed only by a spiral staircase outside. Can't wait for it to rain. We then went to the French Barnes and Noble to grab books for classes. We were shopping around there as well, and I stumbled across the childrens' comics section. I love the French. ONLY in France can you find kids comic books with full boob-view and thong bikini's in the beach scenes. REALLY?!?! Not only that Where's Waldo, turns out to be Where's Osama Bin Laden.
Not to drag on, but we ventured to les Champs-Libres in Rennes, aka the Rennes cultural center. We had a tour of a King Arthur exhibit...not my thing. The tour guide was about thirty years old, pas chic, and wildly over-excited about here work. Additionally, she had eyes that could stare into the depths of your soul if you weren't paying attention. I didn't pay attention. It was rough. I had two hours of my soul being drained bit by bit, and learned nothing. Day well spent....HA! A demain.

...like Americans in a foreign country.

Today was the first day Union had control over. All and all, it was a great day. It started off with a run along the canal. My legs screamed the whole time, and for the rest of the day thereafter. Host Mom and Dad, headed to the "salle de musculation" right after I returned from my run, so for the first time, it was quiet. It was great! I had my Special K (gross) with chocolate, milk which absolutley no indication of fat content, and tea. I haven't really looked yet, but I feel like Tropicana OJ-No Pulp-Calcium is something I'm not going to see for a few months. And morning cartoons...I don't think I'm getting them either. Instead I pulled up some CNN action on my computer and doubled it with the NY Times online. I much prefer Bugs and Daffy to Georgia protests and McCain taking the lead.
Anyhow, at about 10 I ventured into the bowels of Rennes public transportation for the first time. IT IS AWESOME! We have unlimited use swipe cards for the Metro and busses, so its easy. Bus line 15 is an articulating bus with comfy seats, and again those damn buttons you have to press to let you out. I took it right into la Republique station where the group met to get CELLLLLLL PHONES!!! We walked in the the boutique for Orange (the verizon of France), and the clerks immediately put on their *deer-in-headlights* faces. You might too, if 22 loud, bright American college kids rolled in all wanting 1 of 5 different cell phones. My number is 06.89.12.60.23. If you need to call ask my mom how, because there is a country code et al.
After the cell adventure we met the charter bus to take us to the CHATEAUs where we would spend the afternoon. The first was a Medieval Chateau called Chateau de Combourg built by the famous Compte de Chateaubriand. It was dark, musty, and we could only see half of it because the great great great great great great great great grandchildren are living there. Its haunted too. Stellar place to raise your kids.
Chateau de Bourbansais was Renaissance castle...and way cooler. It had lots of windows and was really colorful. We also got to watch a fox hunt (really cool), and a falcon show. We 're probably going out on the town for the first time tonight, so hopefully I will have some entertaining Union-style stories to report. A demain.

Yes...it was a yacht

It's about 7:15 PM and we just walked in the door from a day on the water. I woke up about 8 AM and went for my first run in months. My joints survived, which is a bonus, and means I can keep running 'til I get the bike situation figured out. At 10 AM we hit the road in the road-rocket MB and head for Saint Brieuc. After going about 100 mph for an 1.5 hrs(it felt like 30), we arrived at the HUGE harbor. You have to have a special key to get in to the parking lot and bathrooms. The French are pretty tech-savvy.
After the bathroom we walked out on the dock and kept walking...and walking and walking...and finally I see this chunk of a massive boat at the end of the dock. "No frickin' way," I said to myself. We got to the end of the dock and the boat beeped, and I almost fell over. We took all the canvas off, and all of a sudden the TWIN 650 HP Volvo Diesels, roared to life. Soon after a larger crew of 25+ somethings came trekking down the dock, and turned out to be M. Levrel's son and his friends. They were cool.
Regardless, off we went out of the port onto the OCEAN. Like wave, splash, whoosh, use radar/GPS ocean. We cruised at about 20 mph to this little cove where we spent the afternoon drinking wine, eating, swimming, playing Ocean Rugby (water polo+rugby), sleeping, and freezing. The ride back was fun, and I got to drive. Daniel refused to reassume the helm til I had docked the boat to his satisfaction! Believe it or not, that boat was a whole lot easier to dock than any boat in the Block-Harris family fleet. I had to do it three times 'til it was perfect. It was A LOT of fun.
We put the boat away, and headed back to Rennes. The road-rocket was low on petrol so we had to stop. GAS IS EXPENSIVE. EXPENSIVE EXPENSIVE EXPENSIVE! E1.54/Liter. Thats a little more than $8/gal. Suck on that...gas is cheap in the states????? Anyhow, back in Rennes relaxed and ready to meet back up with some Union-ites tomorrow. Au Revoir!

Cars, Boats, Trains, Busses, but No Planes

Here I am at about 11PM, and being totally lame and crashing. This has been wildly exhausting day number 3-in-a-row. I woke up this morning with a stiff back from a CRAPPY mattress, stepped into the awful shower, and immediately fell on my tush. I was about to grab my stuff and check out of that hotel then and there. Running out of a hotel naked in Paris would most likely get me a straight jacket and a super special plane ride back across the pond. So, at 11 AM we met up with all the Union students and Prof. Ndiaye, and got on the cool Euro-coach bus to Rennes. What I thought was two hours, turns out two be two hours via the TGV (Train de Grande Vitesse= Super duper high speed train), and 5 hours by bus. So after a stop at the French version of Panera, and really terrible bus driver, we arrived in Rennes. The prearranged meeting place was l'Hotel Brest, where we met Keith (the organizer), and eventually our host families.
Meeting our host families made us feel like puppies waiting to be picked up from the pet store. As we were sitting there wagging our tails and trying to look as cute as possible, hoping ours would be the next name called, a woman with short silver-gray hair stepped into the lobby. Marguerite Levrel and her male partner (more details to come on that later, I have no clue) are both retired. She was a Professor at U. Rennes 1, and he was the CFO of some moster business supply company in Europe. He has had 3 Ferraris (2 yellow testarossas, 1 red F50), a silver Lamborghini Diablo that he totalled, raced real formula 1 maseratis, and now is the proud owner of your basic $200,000 Mercedes-Benz coupe. Tomorrow we are going to Saint-Malo, to adventure on their 80-foot motor yacht. I wonder if they're adopting.... Dinner was great, and I can call land-lines for free, so if you see a wacky number....it is me. Bon soir!

Holy Hotel Room, Batman!

It is about 10:30 PM here, and I am in bed. It is quite possible the earliest I have gone to bed in a looooong time. I am exhausted. Wednesday night at home I didn’t sleep because the dog knew I was leaving, and wouldn’t let me sleep, and me wouldn’t let me sleep on the plane either. Needless to say, Paris is incredible.
Two nights ago I decided to be adventurous and take the train from the airport (9 euros) versus taking a door-to-door shuttle to the hotel (20e plus baggage fees). Without a hitch, I got on the RER which is basically the French version of the Long Island Railroad. I took the train to the Gare du Nord, which was supposed to be a 5-minute walk to the hotel. I promptly squeeze myself through the ticket booths with luggage, and walk the wrong direction about three blocks in the rain.
Mental picture: American kid wearing a polo, denim and Union College baseball cap. Hauling a foot-locker sized suitcase, a 5600 cubic inch hiking pack, rolling carry-on and school back-pack. It could not have been more obvious that I was a tourist. In the meantime I developed a system for asking directions. Nod and smile when they were telling me where to go, and then piecing together what they said after the fact.
I turned myself back around and got to the hotel. The lobby was a quaint little hotel lobby and I was totally optimistic about the rooms. The not-so-tolerant innkeeper, then told us only one at a time in the elevator…uhhh what? I barely squeezed myself into this phone-booth sized elevator (no joke), and shook my way up to le premier étage (second floor).
Three people and our luggage were far from comfortable in a room that was about the size of a big closet. This “triple room” had a double bed and a twin bed right next to each other, and that was it. We had a TV, but it didn’t work. We had a bathroom, but it only had a tub and a hose to shower with. The three of us cleaned up and went and found lunch.
By 2 PM we had our first experience with le Metro which is very, very easy, except for the doors that don’t open unless you press the button. I ticked a bunch of locals off when I couldn’t figure out why the doors wouldn’t open, even when it said “appuyez ici”. Stupid American. We met up with some of the U-Crew at the Eiffel Tower, and the few of us who flew in that morning were totally exhausted. Regardless, someone still convinced me to take the stairs to the top of the tower and see Paris. I split from my roommates for a while. It was a game of chance to meet them at the hotel since we don’t have cell phones (I don’t know how we survived without them). The climb was cool and I got a couple great pictures from the top of tower. It was still rainy and hazy though. After the tower we went and grabbed some après-midi café, after which I promptly fell asleep at the table, while they were all figuring out their evening plans. I soloed the Metros back to the hotel (still very easy), grabbed les steak-frites and a beer somewhere, and met up with the girls for a walk around the 10eme arrondissement. That is the district the hotel is in. And now, it is bed-time.

Euros Have Bling

Well, I am in the plane right now and it’s probably about 15 minutes before the “captain turns on the seatbelt sign” and we have to put everything away. I don’t understand how people survive 20-hour flights. I CAN’T SLEEP ON PLANES!!!! I took a benadryl and Coffea Cruda (homeopathic stuff), and nothing worked. There was also an open seat next to me, but the Angry French Woman made her Angry French Man move one seat in so she didn’t have to sit next to a high traffic aisle. Cuddle session. Instead, I watched Made of Honor, 21, and half of pretty much every TV show on the little TV screens in front of us. In Philly I found a money exchange and dumped $300 and only got 180 euros back. SHOCKER! I knew that was coming, but that was just a miserable feeling. Hopefully everything has a smaller price tag in France. Regardless, Euros are kind of cool. The have a hologram across the front, and the larger the value of the bill, the bigger the bill actually is. The captain just announced we are officially in French Aerospace, and it’s about time to land. À Bientôt!