Bordelais holiday

The weather at Bordeaux has been perfect these last few days - sunny, mid-70s, cool breezes clearing the air once in a while. Stepping out in a t-shirt has been a refreshing change from bundled scarves and wet umbrellas. We decided to capitalize on this probably short-lived string of blue skies by having a picnic at jardin public this afternoon, a public park near downtown Bordeaux. I'd never been there before, but fellow-EAPers had staked out sunny patches of grass ever since the sun came out. 

Since the school is still on strike and blockaded, our translation professor's guilty conscience decided to invite the handful of foreign students in the class to her home this morning. It was actually delightful - her house is charmingly set away in a narrow side street, filled with sunlight from the beautiful stone garden in the back. She's Canadian, too; I found out after she remarked on the flag sewn on my backpack (yes, I am still using that backpack). We had class in the kitchen, and between discourses on the present perfect her French husband and her adorable teenage daughter stopped in to give her messages.  I think a bit of wishfulness passed through all our heads. Gorgeous French home? A French husband and French kids? Yes, please.

After class we grabbed sandwiches and headed over to the park, which is beautiful - and gigantic. I didn't even explore all of it but already there was a pond filled with ducks and swans, towering leafy trees, a botanical garden, and yards and yards of sprawling green lawns. The grass was packed with people. The thing I found the funniest was the blatant self-segregation - on one side of the park was the older crowd, more or less quiet and subdued. Towards the back, where we sat, were all the young people. Look around and you'd see hookahs, smell weed in the air, hear acoustic guitar being strummed by a guy rocking dreadlocks. There were jugglers throwing pins and lovers cuddling in the shade. Alexa arrived, toting a 12-pack of Kronenbourg, chips, salsa and guacamole, which we demolished in no time. When our shoulders turned pink from sunbathing, we strolled to a snack shack and found relief in fruity popsicles and Coca Cola. Laura said something like, "I can't believe this is our life now, eating popsicles and picnics in the park."

She's right - this entire semester has felt like a suspesion of time and reality. To be sure, things aren't perfect all the time and frustrations with France crop up frequently - but even still, I have no desire to go back home. This afternoon especially was as carefree as I've ever felt on the other side of the Atlantic. I can't believe this is my life either, and I'm certainly not complaining.

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And for good measure: