I Have Arrived.

In France. I have arrived in France.

 

Let's start at the very beginning (a very good place to start, according to The Sound of Music). My trip to France was only slightly interesting. After saying goodbye to my parents before entering security, I was alone! Independent! Flying internationally all by myself.. plus 57 other SYA students.

Teresa and I at the United States airport. 

Our flight was supposed to leave at 5:30, but it was delayed a glorious 3 hours, and the gate was moved twice! (See Gate 12? That's the 3rd gate. We were also at 41, and 3). By the time I sat down on the plane, my feet were blistered (what a bad idea it was to decide to break in my new shoes on that day..) and I was exhausted, and I promptly fell asleep before the plane took off. Almost 8 hours later with a 6 hour time difference - we're saying about 10:30 am, here - we landed in Paris. Customs was simple, and more waiting ensued as the SYA students gathered to board the bus to Rennes.

The bus ride to Rennes was about 4 hours long, but we didn't leave until 12. I slept on that ride, too. We stopped for a small picnic lunch, and it was the most unordinary school lunch I've ever had. You know your typical lunch the school gives you when you're on field trips? The Saran-wrapped dry bread filled with what should be turkey, and maybe cheese? Well, I had a baguette (it was huge! Longer than a foot long, and covered in flour!) filled with salmon and avocados and cheese. It was the most delicious and gourmet school sandwich I've ever had. I get a little bit worked up about these things.

I would post more beautiful and artistic and wonderfully timed photos of my bus ride into Rennes, but my phone died. Apparently if you leave your American phone on in an international country, it doesn't stop trying to search for service? It must be very tiring.

And then.. I was THERE. In RENNES. The bus stopped by our school (but not AT our school, notice the difference), and we carried our too-large suitcases from the bus across gravel and down a cobblestone street (in very blistered feet, mind you) to meet... a swarm of host families. They were bringing us to the slaughter house. The French! The FRENCH! There was an invisible line between us, as they gathered on one side and we gathered on the other. Prior to this meeting, prior to Rennes, I had not spoken to my host family at all. I did not know what they looked like, I did not know what to expect.. how would my host family find me? I had two suitcases with me, and I had been travelling for more than 24 hours. I was a bit of a wreck. But my host mother found me!

Her name is Frederique.

But more on that later. ;)

P.S. Feel free to comment right below when you think I'm especially charming. It makes my day, basically.