C'est la vie

   

      Over the weekend, our group traveled to Marseille and Arles in southern France. We took the TGV- the train à grande vitesse (high speed train)-from the gare de Lyon early Friday morning and it took less time to travel across the entire country of France than to drive to my cabin in northern Minnesota. I've been wanting to see the Mediterranean for years and it was really cool to be able to finally be there. The weather was so warm that some of the people in our group were wearing shorts, while the Marseillais were dressed like they were in danger of frostbite. We got a nice tour of the old part of town, le panier (literally "the basket") that reminded me a lot of the Italian hilltowns. We had the night off to explore the city, but I got sick at the restaurant, so it stayed pretty low-key. In the morning, we got the chance to see the Château d'If, which is a prison that was made famous by Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo. I wish I had read it beforehand, but now I have my very own copy that is basically the size of a shoebox.

Port of Marseille

At the Château d'If

     Marseille felt like a small town- 800,000 people feels small to me now- and it was nice to get out of Paris and feel like I could breathe again, and also in Arles, which actually is quite small with about 70,000 people. Saturday afternoon, we took another train to Arles. I wish we had more time there because I think I would've really enjoyed learning more about the city, but we were definitely rushed. We got to see the Roman ruins and ampitheatre that still exist in the center of town, which looks like a mini-Rome. The mistral, the wind that comes up off the Mediterranean, was absolutely insane. On Saturday night, we walked down to see the Rhône that runs through Arles and the wind was so strong I couldn't walk straight.

     I got to sit in first class on the way back, which would have been great to sleep in, but there was too much conversation going on. It was really great to have everyone together and I'm pretty sure I laughed the entire weekend. After having so much fun, I came home to Paris to find out my grandma had died an hour earlier. She had Alzheimer's for twelve years, so I'm happy she can finally be free. I don't know if there's a worse way out in life. Though I knew this was coming, I still can't really believe that she's gone and that I can't be there. It's really tragic that I never got to know her as an adult since she hasn't recognized me for five years. She was everything that I think really matters in life- to be kind-hearted, modest, determined, loving and always up for a laugh, even till the end. Now when I think about her, I picture her from my older memories instead- in her golfing clothes, her bright pink lipstick, forcing seconds on everyone at the table and giving such good hugs that they hurt.

    This week has been a little off. I'm exhausted and a little sick and I think I might have ordered a sandwich au japon today instead of a sandwich au jambon. I got lost on the way home from my internship today on the line that I take every single day. I could really use a hug from my mom, whose hugs are comparable to Grandma's. Mais c'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?

Rachel