Ex. France: C’est incroyable!
(Not Scottish I know
but thematically appropriate and it's just such a good word)
Due to other Facebook
activity and no subtlety at all, you probably already know I went to France.
Voila! Announcement over.
I went because I have
friends there and it would be cheaper to travel from Scotland to France than
the opposite side of America to France, but mostly because it’s something I
would probably not do otherwise and possibly the most adventuresome thing I’ve
done maybe ever.
You might be (/are) thinking, “Lauren, people go to France all the time.
There’s literally nothing to be afraid of.” And you would be right. This trip
was a big deal literally only because language barriers freak me out. Because
I’ve only lived and traveled to places where there is no need for me to speak
anything other than my native language (apart from Mexico, but I spoke enough
Spanish at the time), going to a place where I wouldn’t be able to understand
anyone was daunting. How do you order food? How do you ask for directions? I
knew how to say “bonjour” and “merci” and that was about it. If someone had
offered me this trip even six months ago, I would not have gone. That’s how
frightened I was of it.
However, what influenced me otherwise is the European/British perspective of
travel. In an hour’s plane ride from London, you can arrive in one of about
five different countries who all speak different languages and have different
cultures. In the same distance in America, I can land on the other side of my
own state. Just the accessibility to other cultures alone makes the people who
grew up here way more chill about traveling to crazy new places. Also, a lot of
American exchange students were also traveling everywhere. This somewhat
diminished my fears about how hard a trip to France could be.
The trip began with
Paris for the weekend, where we only had time to see the most touristy places
(the Eiffel Tower, the Lourve, the Arc d’Triomphe, etc.) which was fine with
us. Neither of us had been to France before, so we were equally excited about
these sights. All these places were awesome and totally worth the hype. We went
on a walking tour on Saturday, and then that night we met Lizzie (hi Lizzie!),
who as some of you know is an SAI bro who moved there just four months ago. It
was amazing and surreal to catch up with her and ask her what living in Paris
is like, while we ate Parisian crepes on our way to the Notre Dame. I felt so
blessed.
After about a day and
a half in Paris (which is something I really do not recommend because Paris
deserves more of your time), we took an eight-hour train ride from Paris to
Toulouse, where we were to meet another friend of mine (hey Clément!), and
after 24 hours, we would take another train to Marseilles. I thought going into
the trip that if I was going to see a country I had never been to before, I
couldn’t just go to the biggest city – I had to see smaller cities that were
more representative of what France and French people were like. I thought,
surely not all French people are like Parisians, and not all French cities are
– or even can be – like Paris. Well, it was certainly true. For one, they were
much, much harder to navigate. The major streets are as skinny as the minor
ones, and there is no perceptible organization to them, which is just how it is
with older cities. It really made me miss American grid cities. There was a
sort of rhythm to our trip – get into the city, follow the carefully mapped out
directions to our hostel, drop off our stuff, and then wander around/get lost.
Which was fine, unless we had somewhere to be, in which case it was immensely
frustrating. But as we got to know both
southern cities, they grew on us. Both of them were equally gorgeous and
charming, with amazing cafes on every block and a Christmas market in each.
The whole trip, for
me, was a mixture of absolutely being in love with the food and the
architecture and being frustrated/embarrassed at not being able to speak
French. Those were the only things on my mind the whole time. We would see the
sights and be amazed by how every angle of each city was beautiful, but as soon
as a meal rolled around, I would be anxious about the nearing interaction we
would have to have – how long will I be able to fake knowing French? At what
point in the conversation (more like “conversation”) will they know I’ve tried
but I really can’t speak their language? When would I have to ask them if they
could say what they were saying in English? Are they going to hate me and
visibly look exasperated or are they going to take pity on me and be nice
because I tried? The entire time I just wished at any point in my life I had
chosen French over whatever language I ended up choosing.
The upshot of it was,
these interactions, which were the worst parts of our day, were quickly
followed by the best parts of our day, which was eating French food. Both my
travel partner Jen (hi Jen!) and I really, really appreciate good food. Every
meal I would have that moment where you take the first bite and you are sent to
another place. Even if we stepped into a café that looked like it was pretty
mediocre, the pastries were always incredible.
On the whole, it was
amazing. I wouldn’t trade the trip for anything. And the language barrier
proved to not be a huge issue. You can communicate surprisingly well without
language. As I mentioned in the beginning of this blog, if you want something
just beyond the border of your comfort zone, that’s a dumb reason not to go for
it. I was really ready to go back to an English-speaking country at the end of
the trip, but I got to eat nutella crepes and walk around inside the Notre Dame
(not at the same time… they’re pretty strict about that sort of thing). I went
to somewhere I had never been and wanted to go. Amazing.
