Beware of pickpockets they say, especially in France. I kept my cross body purse held with my hand tightly to the front of my body each time I walked the streets of Paris alone. Along the Seine was the only place that made me pause now and make me scream at myself to use my head. Still, all I can think of now is that it was a pretty good thing that at the time where I wasn’t using my head as much as I should have, high after spending a good hour or so in Shakespeare and Co., that I spoke terrible French and could understand it even more terribly.

The sun shone down on me as I walked along past street vendors and postcard sellers that sat in fold-able chairs and scrolling on their phones until a customer grabbed something off their cart. As I approached a few more to pass, a woman smiled and came up to me with a clipboard, and I think now, had I been in New York City, would I have paused?

Um, no. Definitely not.

I am the person who drags friends away from the sales people in the mall that try to get you try that new flat iron at their kiosk until you end up buying some sort of hair oil. Yet, I paused as she quickly spoke in French, pushing the clipboard towards me as if to sign a petition of some sort.

“Je…” I didn’t understand her, and held my purse tighter as after that millisecond of pause happened, I took a step or two forward. Keep walking, I needed to keep walking...and yet…



In that moment one of the two older men who were sitting in their chairs next to their carts of postcards and trinkets called out towards me and the woman who was already a few steps behind me, giving up in sort of a huff.

As I passed one of the older men, he ran a hand through his white hair and pointed after her, trying to explain. “Pickpocket,” he said.

Understanding must have shown on my face.

He continued to explain to me in slow French to just keep walking. Those who tried to get one to sign something like that usually would have swiped my purse while my hands were busy.

I nodded a merci and continued on. Thinking back on that moment now though, when I glanced down towards that clipboard that young woman was holding, it had quite a few signatures on it. I wonder how many did not simply keep walking.

A Warm Welcome

I arrived in Paris at the Orly airport to get onto the Orlyval, and then the metro. At one point, unsure if it was my stop I needed to get off at, I asked the woman across from me in the packed train if this would be my stop coming up. With creased eyebrows, she nodded. "Oui."

Getting off the train I looked around. It was most certainly not my stop. It was more certainly, an hour walking from the stop I should have waited to stopped at.

Back into the metro I went, the one ticket man there taking pity on me enough to have me purchase another new ticket to get where I was going.

Where is...Right there? Of course I knew that.

While in the Tuileries Garden walking back from my visit to the Effile Tower, I looked around and finally stopped to ask a girl who had her feet sticking in the fountain along with many others.

"Where is the Louvre?" I asked the line in my practice and re-practiced French.

Still unimpressed, she pointed over my shoulder. The Louvre was right in front of me.

Off to See the Mona Lisa

After finding the Louvre I wandered in through one of the halls and promptly got lost within the Greek marble statues. By the time I figured out how to get out and find the correct entry towards the statue of Nike, and eventually see the crowded room of the Mona Lisa, I was very dehydrated from a day walking in the sun without water. Weaving through the crowd I nearly passed out. Ultimately the six euro bottle of water was purchased.

Let this be a lesson to always stay hydrated, even when attempting to complete a very full itinerary.

Thank You, Highlighter T-Shirt Man

I got on the RER C heading out to Versailles out of the Notre Dame station. After asking multiple people who couldn't understand my terrible French, I ended up hopping on the next train. I sat by the window on the second floor of the train where it was barely even filled. The only others on the train with me were a group of men, scattered through the seats and yelling and loud French to one another. It was the loudness that back in the states I would assume also meant slightly intoxicated, even if it was only about eight in the morning.

I held my bag close and continued looking forward, hoping that I would be able to hear the muffled voice overhead that would tell me that I had made it out of Paris and into the royal city of Versailles. The voice overhead did say something and the last of the people, the men got off the train. Once they got off, they yelled back at me to do the same.

"Last stop. Last stop," they told me in broken English. And here I was hoping that I didn't look like a complete tourist of sorts.

Heart pounding I descending from the train and onto the gray cement platform, looking around where to go next. I was certainly not in Versailles. Asking a young girl waiting for her train, she knew I was supposed to be getting on the two. Where was the two? She could only shrug.

Looking around obviously more confused than I usually would let on, a large man in a bright orange t-shirt looked at me. He had a large gym bag across his chest.

"Tu vas à Versailles?"

"Oui!" I said right away, understanding as he spoke slow. I asked back, "Tu vas à Versailles?"

"Oui," he said. Pointing to the train across from us that people were finishing boarding.

I ran through the little tunnel connecting the two platforms and hopped on the train just before the doors closed. The man did behind me. "Merci." I thanked him. Oh, I still thank him whenever I think about the kindness sometimes we forget in the world around us when there are also scary loud possibly drunk French men also around us.

I See London I See France

As I walked down the street, I stepped over a sort of vent in the ground. The skirt of my purple floral dress flew up in the air, exposing whatever comfortable travel underwear I had packed before I could stop it, a true Marilyn Monroe impression. I yanked it back down to my thighs and walked that way all the way down the block until I was pretty sure whoever saw it happen wouldn't notice my reddening face.

A Fitting Flight Home

I sat in the airport, my head pounding, the back of my neck sweating as if an oncoming migraine believed that the best time to come on was while I was waiting for my last minute flight back from Paris to Marseilles. I continued to wait and want to puke as my flight was delayed...and delayed again...and again. I must have looked pretty bad considering the airport was packed and no one sat next to me while waiting if they could help it.

But I did make it back to my temporary home in Provence.

And now after plenty of these misadventures, I have come to terms more or less of getting lost. If it happens, we are going to get home eventually. Somehow.

With my class after the fantastically wonderful Carrières de Lumières, we made our way up to Baux castle in Les Baux de la Provence.

 This town I can only imagine had to have hosted a medieval film or two in its lifetime.




Then again though, I am not sure if I could have wandered as well through the ruins of the castle and lavender fields in such cumbersome day to day attire.

While in Aix-en-Provence, one thing was necessary with early wake up calls; whether those calls be for adventure, or for an extra early art history class. What is that one thing you ask? Coffee. Though I am going to stand out as someone who might actually prefer my coffee back home to that of European brews (gasp), I still managed to find some wonderful coffee shops throughout my weeks in Aix on the go and while sitting for a few hours to get some much needed work done.

Columbus Cafe

A classic stop before class to get coffee or last minute work done, Columbus has plenty of coffee options hot or frozen which is great for when you want to cool off while also delighting yourself in a possible sweet treat. Even better? If you are a student, be sure to check out their student meal discount that includes a sandwich, drink, and dessert.

I recommend their dark chocolate chip cookie.

Mana Espresso

Run by an English couple, Mana Espresso is a cozy environment perfect for lunch or two sit with a preferred chai latte and slice of homemade cake.

Book in Bar

Yes, there is a bar in this bookshop. Or at least a coffee bar. Serving coffee, smoothies, milkshakes, and homemade pastry and slices of cake, Book in Bar is the place to go if you are looking to relax while being surrounded with your favorite paperback. Wifi not included, but the atmosphere fantastic for a bookworm such as myself. One could say I even spent a little too much time when I had a spare few hours to wander my favorite friends, or shall I say books, among the shelves.

Anticafe

For five euros an hour enjoy all the food and drink you like, and yes, great wifi connection too. Also I plus I found out a little late into my trip, they have ice!

If you are a student...

Be sure to check out if your school has a cafe of their own! Where I studied while abroad, though open a few odd hours a day there was a great spot where students could work and get a good cup of coffee for only a euro.


Though I only managed to hit a few of the great coffee shops and bars around Aix, no matter where you go, you are almost sure to find a place to sit outside and enjoy an afternoon people watching with an espresso, or my preferred cappuccino, in hand.

1. Prepare Yourself

When going away for your homestay, please remember: this is a person's home. Prepare yourself for the smallest of apartments to a house with kids and farm animals even. A person lives here and now you live here too! It may not be the luck of the draw five star mansion, but it is yours and your new host families together for the next few weeks.

2. Be Prepared to Learn

The language. The ways of the house, everything. You may have come to study abroad and have fun, but your homestay is definitely part of that. Keep yourself open to everything and make this part of a new, strange, yet exciting experience. Oh, and don't worry if you butcher the language for a while...or the whole time. You are learning!

3. Tell Them Things Up Front. Communicate!

Be polite, but also look out for yourself and tell your host family when something needs to change or you need something. I went a good three weeks afraid to let my final host family know that I didn't really eat meat. I had been shoving down perfectly good steak and not enjoying it. Just tell your family what you need. When I finally did I got a "ah, ok then."

4. Be Clean

Both body and room. No one likes a messy bessie. This includes your homestay parent(s).

5. Attend Family Meals

It's free food and usually, the food is pretty awesome. No one wants to be that person that doesn't show up to meals that are prepared with them in mind, only for their place to be empty at the table. This also is great to further get to know your host family and them to get to know you.

6. Respect the Schedule and the Time

When I got to my homestay, a rule was to not flush the toilet after 10 p.m. Strange rule, yes, but it was a old house, and the toilet was loud for my host mom and dad's bedroom next to it. Also when coming in late, try to be respectful and realize that it is you coming in late while everyone is sleeping. You are the only one that needs to be up in this moment. Shut the door slowly and try to be quiet.

This also helps not portray the college party animal American student stereo-type.

7. Say something when it's just not working

If you get to your homestay and things are just not working out, say something. Talk to your housing or student life adviser if the school has one. Take it from me, it is better to realize these things soon rather than later so you can get on with living your best homestay and study abroad life.

I used to think that Paris in a weekend would be perfect. I would see everything that I needed to and it would be the perfect amount of time.



I was wrong.

I could have spent a week there and still needed to see more or go back to that perfect spot next to Notre Dame and people watch again for just a few more hours.

But I managed it in a weekend, starting on Friday.

Friday

My flight landing mid morning, I decided to call Friday "tourist day." This really just means that I tried to hit all the major hot spots. Dropping my bag off at the hostel I would be staying in for the next two days up in Montmartre. I took the metro to my first stop I noticed after almost getting lost on my first metro experience on the way into Paris.

Notre Dame Cathedral

Of course I made sure to stand on Point Zero as well.



After reading Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins, it was a must. Even if I still don't quite know where my own Etienne St. Clair may have been.

Shakespeare and Company

Wandering through the shelves packed with books and people, I spent a pretty great deal of time just waiting for a book to jump out at me. A sales attendant must have noticed.

"Can I help you with anything?"
"Um..." I looked around. "Can I stay here forever?"
She seemed to think about this. "Well, you can take your time."

She then helped me find and stamped my next read, She Came to Stay by Simone De Beauvoir.

Sainte Chapelle

Ever since I saw this beautiful place in photos whether it be on Instagram or in my art history classes, I knew I had to go and take in the gorgeous gold and color.

Eiffel Tower

After Sainte Chapelle came walking. A lot of walking. I walked for hours and man, my shoes got a workout. I walked all the way next, to the Tour de Eiffel.

Louvre

The much to see of course included the Louvre as I walked through the most beautiful gardens before it. In the heat of the very hot day, people sat all around in the grass and along the fountains, dipping there feat in to cool off.


Then of course I came upon the pyramid.


I also got lost. Who knew one could do so in the Louvre? Slightly dehydrated and thirsting for art, I still managed to see quite a lot, including of course, the Mona Lisa. I could only imagine that if I didn't see it, I would be berated by my family who would be asking all about my trip once I returned home.

Tip: after 6 p.m. on Fridays, those under 26 can get into the Louvre for free!

Saturday

On Saturday, after becoming obsessed on Netflix over a certain tv show while stressing over finals during the school year, I knew I had to take a bit of a trip while I was in Paris. Where to?

Versailles

My favorite room while inside of course was the fan favorite of the hall of mirrors, everything felt so magical in there. I felt as if I needed to be dressed in a big hoop skirt, prepared to dance in a ball. Of course, I was only in one of my sundresses and surrounded by quite a few others, but I managed a few steps of some ballet or another on my toes to make past Kings and Queens proud. Well, I at least thought so.

I am sure with gorgeous rooms and a view over the gardens like they had, it would be hard to be to impressed.

Sunday

Sunday plans were a little fuzzy for me, I won't lie. My first goal however?

Coffee.

KB Cafeshop

The tea house made this museum of romantic art even more beautiful. Under the sunlight it looked like a fairy tale sort of glass greenhouse.

Sacre Coeur

Since my morning walk turned into going a little longer than I already thought through Montmartre, I kept walking upwards. This time towards Sacre Coeur.




The view over Paris was definitely worth it to end my trip. I headed back down the hill and to my flight only for it to be delayed three hours, just in time.

I dressed myself in a floral blue dress and wedges, unsure exactly how I was going to be spending my first weekend in Aix-en-Provence. I figured none the less that I would at least look nice after the rough weeks of switching homestays and switching classes and not being able to travel to Nice for the weekend because of said switching homestays. Looking at myself in the mirror, my phone was forever in its abroad position of being charged connected to the the character chord connected to the European adapter connected to the extension chord outlet. It beeped.



Opening it up to the only way to get a hold on of me on the Facebook messenger I never thought anyone used until now, my new friend Braden who also did not go to Nice was already typing a second message after the first hello.

"So, you want to climb a mountain today?"

I turned back to my reflection in the mirror in my pretty summer dress. I looked so damn pretty. With a groan I stripped down and redressed into black leggings and a slightly too loose pink tank top before I messaged back. While we set up a spot to meet before getting on the bus for the journey to the base of the mountain, I slipped on my trusty yellow Keds.

Because what else would you climb a mountain in?




Yes, I know. Probably actual sneakers, bus I was not too concerned. There would probably be a nice trail path and some shade as we hiked. It would be a nice fun day. So, appearing slightly homeless and very un-French as other women passed by in their cobblestone steady heels, I met up with Braden for a veggie filled brunch lunch at Toasty. Then it was time...to find the bus...to get off the bus almost at the wrong stop...to get off the bus at the correct stop...and to begin climbing Mt. Sainte Victoire.

I was pumped. I was ready. I was already sweating from the heat of 1 p.m. sunlight shining down on my shoulders as we began on the red and white trail. Another couple began the hike with us after getting off the bus at the same time.

She was from France.

He was from Columbia.

They were in love and talked all about the places they had been and other mountains they had climbed, both together and alone.

They talked, Braden and I-- ok, mostly I was trying to cover the fact that if I opened my mouth it would be to gasp for air. Cute French-Columbia couple were keeping a pace as we scaled the trails already hefty incline. They barely looked like they were breaking a sweat as we all paused to reapply sunscreen and then the next time for a little sip of water or two or three, and then the next time when they pretended not to see us stop as I collapsed to the rocky ground for another break as they kept hiking onward.

"I am not sure I am going to make it. I am dying."

Braden laughed, as I am not going to lie, I proclaim my death quite often. Then he saw my face. "Oh, seriously?"

I wasn't sure.






We sat there as I decided and drunk most of my water in the sliver of shade. I didn't even care as ants began to climb up my dirt covered Keds. I was not sure that I was going to make it. We could easily turn back right then, but then I took out my phone and took a photo of the trail before us. I took a photo of Braden's uneasy face that was now to be the face of determination as I stood up.

"Well, let's go."

"Yeah?"

I thought over my answer. I suddenly remembered the last time I went hiking almost two years ago in New Jersey on a camping trip with my first roommate, Allison. After watching a Yoga with Adriene video we adopted one of the mantras for that trip. I decided I needed to bring it back out.

"I accept."

We kept hiking. The trail got hotter and the path got smaller as we began to climb dirt and rocks smoothed over from many others doing this same climb. Soon I looked over the edge we stood walking on and could see nearly all of Provence it seemed like. With a laugh that sounded less and less like me gasping for air, I kept moving a new sort of spring in my step as we then saw the monastrary above us.

We were at least halfway there, if not more. We joked as we hiked and took moments to suck down the last bits of water we had as if we were in the desert. Before I knew it though, something happened all of a sudden.

I made it.



I climbed Mount Sainte Victoire.

So high I could almost touch the clouds, we sat on the edge of the cross where the couple was already there sitting and eating the bread they had somehow managed to lug.

"You made it!" They called.

Yeah, we made it.

I got to see the amazing view I'll never forget to prove it as Braden shared half of his peanut butter filled Clif bar that made our mouths dry from lack of water before heading back down each boulder and rock. We got lost on a separate trail on the way down and took the bus for an extra hour more than necessary, but the day we climbed Mt. Sainte Victoire was a day to be remembered.

To celebrate, for our first Aix meal out? Pasta and Provence Rose.



Amazing.

To be honest I may even climb that mountain again someday. Or maybe another. Is this am I a hiker now?

Maybe.

Someday.

Known as one of France's most beautiful towns, a group of buildings are nestled into the base of the mountain, a star to evoke Saint Mary hangs between the two. The star that currently hangs above the town was made in 1957. It is the eleventh star to put up, though in 1995 it had to be recovered in gold leaf after having a fall, but ultimately was put back up to look over Moustiers once again.

Moustiers, though I came to see the star and the gorgeous town, is also quite known for its china. Still they have potters that emulate the china with small patterns that you definitely want to spend some time looking at, and if the price alright to you, maybe take home a piece that seems to be from another century.

Imagine sitting down to that at the kitchen table.

Moutstiers is a lovely place I could only imagine the most beautiful of love stories to be told. Lovers could be walking down the narrow streets and kisses shared in all the little nooks and crannies this town has to offer.

There was a story here, I knew it, though I am still not sure what exactly it was. Maybe one day, it will come to me during another hazy summer day.


Within the town, we hiked up the rocky roads to where a small well was. Slipping water bottles out from bags everyone began to fill their bottles.

"Miracle water," one said.

It is true in a way. It is said that one should fill their bottle of water and drink it while hiking up the Moustiers' Notre Dame, a chapel high between the two mountains. Once one made it to the top to the chapel under the star, you were told to make a wish.


The day however was not over as I strained to wander and see all Moustier had to offer. Rushed from the beautiful town to the next event, I definitely recommend taking your time, or at least an hour or two to enjoy Moustiers.

Even if, like me, it was time to go to the beautiful lavender fields Provence dreams are made of.