France-1

The uncertainty surrounding my future living situation and the people and places I was leaving behind had me completely stressed and sulking as l boarded the plane in Bergen but the welcome Paris gives made it all disappear. Just a little sunshine, a few conversations in French, and a warm croissant was all it took; I was giddy all over again. Paris is the city in which one loves to live. I hadn’t realized how small-town Bergen had felt until I took the train out to Versailles and watched this endless stretch of old buildings, quant terraces, and great views whiz by me for what seemed like hours. It felt really good to be somewhere new again and to be doing it all by myself.
When my original au pair position fell through unexpectedly I put a call out to family and friends and my good friend Stephanie’s Cousin Kim, who lives in Versailles and who I’ve only met once before, offered up her home indefinitely. She was my saving grace for the first two weeks I was here; not only did she make room for me in her one bedroom apartment but she mapped out bus and metro routes, made phone calls for me, introduced me to new friends, and helped me brush up on my French.
Kim lives on Rue de la Paroisse in Versailles which is right in the center of it all. Her street is lined with trendy stores, boulangeries and patisseries everywhere, outdoor cafes, and even an outdoor market. On my first morning I went for a run hoping it would help me learn the streets and the area a bit better, and I found myself running by huge pastures with horses and goats, and then right by Marie Antoinette’s mansion, and out onto the Grand Canal of the Palace of Versailles. That became a morning tradition; just a little run in my backyard. Kim threw a party on my second night so I got to meet a bunch of people and spent the night trying desperately to keep up with their speedy French, which was drenched in slang. I actually went to bed with a giant headache from five hours of trying to stay up on the conversations. I spent all day the next day laying in the sunshine in the gardens at Versailles, and then met my new friends at a local pub for drinks before we all went for a little backyard BBQ. The French are serious about their partying/dancing scene so where I am used to getting in around 2:30a from a long night out at home…that’s about when they start heading out here. This night was apparently ‘low-key’ so we were only up till about three playing cards. Sunday morning we did, what they explained to me as being something a bit unconventional, in that most people our age don’t meet up for a wine and cheese brunch on Sunday, but that’s just what we did. They had the whole spread: local wine (red and white), five or six different cheeses (spread out/and devoured in order of strength), and of course a fresh baguette. I am usually not a fan of ‘stinky’ cheeses but somehow the way my friends understood and appreciated them inspired me to be adventurous. They were strong, one of them tasted like grass, another like manure, but there were a few that had really good tastes to them (especially with little sips of wine afterwards).
My new friends, days spent in the park, my scarf, and our Sunday brunch were all I needed to start feeling right at home.