Adventures in Southern France

Hello my dear family and friends,

Well I am currently sitting on a train taking a five-hour journey from Nice to Grenoble. It is a long trip and I have to change trains once but right now I don’t mind at all because the scenery is spectacular: the weather is slightly cloudy and stormy looking which makes the vast vineyards, sparse palm trees and hillside forests look vibrant green against the deep orange soil and rough rocks of the mountains. We pass stretches of coastline every now then looking out over the rough but clear aquamarine waters of the Mediterranean. The towns that line the Cote d’Azur are filled with adorable stucco houses that dot the mountainsides and cluster around the beaches. Bright red flowers that look like poppies fill fields and line the train tracks with bursts of color. Great big sunshine yellow bushes cluster around trees at the edges of lavender fields still in their light tan pre-flower stage. A young French boy sitting across from me is (almost) silently rocking out to his Mp3 player, whose beat I can distinctly make out. I am looking forward to seeing the sunset as we begin to head North in a couple of hours towards the French Alps and the small town of Grenoble.

Before arriving in southern France, I had a couple days in Málaga, a small city on the coast of eastern Spain. That was very relaxing and I wandered around the town and met some neat people while soaking up the Andalusian culture as much as I could before flying to France. On Monday of this week, I took the bus to the Málaga airport to catch my afternoon flight. A young girl around one and a half was pretty fussy for a few minutes and clearly unhappy about being unable to run around on the bus, so I started making faces at her and she took a fast liking to me. I sat next to her and her father and we played silly children games while everyone watched on clearly amused for about 45 minutes. She was adorable, and very sleepy, so she let me hold her and then rested her head on my shoulder for a while as an older woman next to us sang her a Danish lullaby. It was awesome. I felt pretty proud too when the father thought I might be French or Italian rather than American. That’s always nice just because it means I don’t have a American accent when I speak Spanish anymore, which is a big accomplishment, I think.

When I arrived in Marsielle I took a bus directly to Aix-en-Provence, a small Provencial town about 30 kilometers from the airport. The ride was very beautiful and was swept away by the scenery that I experienced just as the sun was setting. Once in Aix, I just had to find my hostel that I’d booked a room in a few days earlier. After sitting at the wrong bus station for about 35 minutes, I finally figured out where to go based on the fact that I watched my bus go down a different street. So, I crossed the huge roundabout to the correct stop, and waited about 20 minutes more for the next bus. I made it my hostel, met a nice Argentinean girl, Ana, and chatted with her in Spanish over a huge salad at the bar of the hostel. It turns out she was traveling on her own as well and was happy to show me around Aix the next morning. Also, she invited me to go with her to Cassis, a small town that is famous for its proximity to the coastal calanques, which are similar to fjords. I said, “Sure!” (in Spanish) and the next morning we discussed the plans over breakfast. Another girl from our room, Emily, was on her own as well and went with us into the center of the town on Tuesday. Ana wanted to use the internet and upload some pictures so she guarded my luggage while Emily and I wandered around the town for a few hours. It was very cute French town and we thoroughly enjoyed the market that we walked through that was filled with various wonderful smelling spices, fresh fruits and vegetables, gorgeous flowers, and plenty of cheese. In fact, one stall had several different flavors set out with samples. I tried every single one and loved them all. It was very French.

Ana and I took an early afternoon bus to Cassis and were in awe of the bright blue ocean that suddenly appeared out from behind the rugged hills and forests. We wandered around the port town and snapped pictures of each other in front of the sailboats, the cliffs and the random crashing waves. It was nice to have someone to talk to the whole time and we shared snacks and traveling stories the whole time. In order to get to our hostel, which was in the middle of a national park up on top of one of the calanques, we had to take a bus that was going towards Marseille, get dropped off in the middle of nowhere, and wander up the winding road toward the park with all of our luggage until the park ranger drove by, took pity us, and brought us the rest of the way (five kilometers up and down hills!). It was pretty adventuresome. Our hostel was definitely a backpackers’ hostel being out in the middle of nowhere and not having showers or serving any food. Ana and I had bought some food to prepare for dinner and breakfast, which was perfect. We spent the evening chatting with the other guests in whatever language was most common and then translating for the others. It was mostly middle-aged people from France, Germany and the Netherlands seeking some southern France sunshine and fresh coastal air. That was nice just because plenty of hostels that I have stayed in are all Americans and Australians. I love Australians though because they love crazy adventures and always have great stories. Anyways, our hostel in the middle of nowhere had a great atmosphere and was very relaxing.

The next day Ana and I spent hiking around the park out to the calanques to lay on the beaches and swim in the clear cold water. The water felt perfect after hiking up and down mountains in the sunshine. I don’t know if there are words to describe how gorgeous it was. After hiking through the forests and up and down small hills inbetween the mountains we suddenly turned a corner and found ourselves on a small beach nestled between two huge cliffs filled with gorgeous blue-green crystal clear water. We arrived pretty early in the day while it was quiet and then started off again after a swim and a nap in the sun. The hike to the top of the cliff was laborious, but totally worth the view. Ana and I took so many pictures. The second calanque was also gorgeous and we rested there briefly before continuing back to town. By the time we completed our hiking and made it back to the hostel it was pretty late and I was uncertain that I would find a train to Nice that night so I decided to stay one more night there and leave the next morning.

Thursday was my travel day. I was supposed to be in Nice by midday to meet up with Sean and Molly from St Olaf but unfortunately there was a train strike that day. That means that many trains were cancelled and hundreds of people were stuck in random places and were having trouble getting from place to place. Apparently the train workers decided on a specific day to strike based on the amount of problems it will cause. Well, they chose a good day and definitely caused problems because many people were trying to get to Nice, Cannes, and Monaco for the film festival and the Grand Prix. I ended up taking three different trains, backtracking once based on wrong information, and was stuck in Toulan, a small port town, for six hours. By the time I got to Nice it was well after midnight! I was frustrated, but of course it was an experience and I met some great people who were also stuck and trying to get somewhere. Also, I had a good mozzarella and tomato Panini for dinner overlooking the harbor and reading my book. From Toulan, Ana decided to go to St Tropez while I chose to continue on towards Nice in order to make my hostel reservation and hang out with my friends.

Friday morning I woke up in my hostel in Nice and went down to breakfast early to wait for Molly and Sean. I didn’t know if they knew when I was coming so I planned on just waiting at breakfast until they showed up. That was effective and they walked in shortly after my second piece of toast. We shared stories and adventures over our huge buffet breakfast and then went to the train station to meet our friend Peter who had met up with them in Florence and was only staying at a different hostel in Nice. We decided to get a small picnic lunch from the grocery store to eat down at the beach since we’d eaten so well for breakfast. We wandered down toward the boulevard along the ocean and we once again awestruck by the color of the water. The whole day was very relaxing since we just laid on the beach and then wandered around the old town streets soaking up the French Riviera culture and doing some window shopping. Sean and Molly were taking the overnight train to Rome that evening and Peter to Paris, so after we said our goodbyes I went back to hostel and made my dinner with some fresh made pasta, tomatoes, zucchini and green peppers. Luckily the hostel had a great kitchen and a very popular common room with plenty of people hanging out at the bar. I made some fast friends when I offered to share my leftovers J

Today I was on my own again but I had a plan. I wanted to see the Matisse Museum and the Russian Orthodox church so the nice activities director of the hostel told me exactly what to do and how to get around. I organized my things in the morning and called the hostel in Grenoble to get directions for tonight. I made it to the Matisse museum, which was wonderful, and spent a little over an hour contemplating the bright happy colors and cutout shapes of his artwork. It was a long walk after that towards the ocean, but the sun was shining and when I realized that I was lost I ran into two nice Australians who were also lost but had a map. We figured out where were going and then chatted on our way to the beach. I do love Australians, especially their accents. I made it to the Russian Orthodox church around lunchtime and wandered inside not knowing anything about the differences between the eastern and western Catholic faiths. Luckily, there was a useful guide to read and I learned a lot and definitely enjoyed the architecture and decorations. It was very random to see the Russian-style mushroom domes in the middle of the baroque-style pastel French neighborhood. I liked it.

So tonight I am on my way to Grenoble which is a small town at the base of the French Alps. I’m very excited to see mountains, and definitely excited to be on my way to Germany where they have no train strike.