I am writing to you all from my friend Ali's flat in Foix, France, a village nestled in the French Pyrenees, just north of the Spanish border. Ali and her boyfriend Flo invited me to spend Christmas and New Year's here with them, and everything has been so lovely so far!
I finished school last Friday and spent my Saturday and Sunday battling loneliness (everyone had pretty much cleared out of Les Cottages by then) and my nemesis: the laundry machine--let's call it Clyde. Clyde and I do not get along very well. He likes to get my coins jammed in the machine. He also likes to stop working mid-cycle so that my clothes are left soapy and water-logged. Sometimes Clyde doesn't like turning on at all. (Note: Clyde's behavior might also be due to operator error...) Whatever the case, Clyde is not a fan of doing my laundry, and thus I, too, am not a fan of doing my laundry. But as it's a necessary evil, especially when you're about to depart for a nearly two-week vacation, I decided to dedicate my two days of alone time to this chore. Clyde was busy all day in Saturday, despite the supposed lack of residents at Les Cottages, so I was forced to wait until Sunday morning to do my laundry. I got up super early because Charly and Edwige had invited me over for lunch and Christmas prep, and I needed to get all my laundry done by 9:30am. So I got up when it was still dark and waddled across the courtyard and up the stairs to the laundry room. I put all my laundry in Clyde and inserted my coin in the machine. And then I waited. And waited. And... nothing happened. No lights, no response whatsoever. Clyde--why do you hate me so? After several more attempts to get Clyde going (jostling, slamming, dial-turning, more jostling), I accepted defeat and took all my clothes back down the stairs and across the dark courtyard, packed them up in my backpack, and waited for it to be a suitable hour to call Charly and Edwige and beg them to let me use their washer. (Two things to know about laundry in France: 1. It's expensive as water is expensive. 2. No one uses the dryer--like ever. Air-drying is king.) They agreed and I trudged over to their house (the fog was still clearing the semi-illuminated streets).
My day got much better from there. We got my laundry washed, we chatted about cooking, my feud with Clyde, our upcoming Christmas plans, and I had the great pleasure of watching Edwige, master chef, prepare some of the elements of her Christmas dinner extravaganza. She glazed cookies with chocolate, made pâte à choux for salmon puff ball things, made fish paste for a shellfish dinner, and tested out some foie gras, all while Charly made homemade French fries and reheated a lovely slow-cooked beef concoction that gets better every time you reheat it. Once again, spoiled by the Laumoniers. Then I went home and hung my laundry all over my apartment and had Christmas with my parents. I rounded out my evening with a chat with my dear friend, Carmen Fifield, and a couple of episodes of Friends. Most excellent.
On Monday (Christmas Eve), I got up early again and began my long journey to Foix. I got held up in Toulouse thanks to some gold old French strikes, so I got delayed two hours and ended up fighting for my place on the last bus to Foix. Twelve hours after my departure from Blois, Ali and Flo met me at the train station at Foix and walked me to their cute attic flat in the centre ville. Foix has a cool castle with actual turrets and everything, plus it's illuminated purple for Christmas. There are mountains on all sides of the village, and there's a little mountain stream running through its center. It's got a much different feel from Blois that I can't quite find the words to describe beyond saying that it's more Spanish-feeling and there's more of a sport culture. Flo made us duck with fried potatoes and carrots which we ate enthusiastically with our fingers and topped off with a bûche de Noël (traditional French Christmas cake that looks like a little log and/or a huge Little Debbie cake roll) and half a box of red wine. We dubbed a red flower plant our Christmas tree, and Flo spent the evening trying to convince Ali to open the huge present her sister sent her on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas Day. He was unsuccessful, and we all passed out to the sounds of The Grinch. The next morning we slept late and lounged around all day. We opened presents and discovered that the big one was a TV (!). Flo set it up immediately. Ali and I took a walk around Foix and had a nice chat before another lovely dinner of lentils and sausage.
Today, Ali and I took a 45-minute train ride to Ax-les-Thermes, a mountain village known for its skiing and hot baths. We were there for the hot baths. We donned our bathing suits and joined the hot bath community, moving from indoor large heated pool to outdoor large heated pool, to hammam, to sauna, to small heated pool, in search of the perfect jet. It was wonderful and relaxing and oh so French. The best part: the people-watching. We came back on a late train to warm our hands on steaming bowls of chili (the glory!), plus I tried my first whole kiwi (tasted like a huge green grape). They've got me hooked on Sherlock, so I think an episode of that is next on the agenda. Tomorrow, Ali and I are headed to the medieval village of Carcassonne. Should be a good day full of a lot of old stuff, delicious food, and train travel. To sum up: I'm hanging out with some really cool people eating delicious food all the time and having awesome adventures. We leave for Barcelona on Sunday. Time to brush up on my non-existent Spanish...
Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! I sure missed being home with my loved ones, as well as a certain amount of American Christmas commercialism and a whole lot of Christmas carols (France sucks at Christmas carols), but all in all it's been a good time. Oh, I forgot to mention that my choir sang at the marché de Noël (Christmas market, and we sang non-Christmas-y songs like a Spanish one about coffee and a traditional French one about a girl who get deceived by a cute guy--see this link) in Blois last weekend and I got to meet the mayor! There was a band and speeches and little lit-up Christmas huts and lots of mulled wine for everyone! Pretty cool and very Christmas-spirited.
So, merry Christmas to all, and I will try to update you on more of my adventures in Foix before I head of to Spain for New Year's. Bonnes fêtes, tout le monde!
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