A weekend of stereotyping!

Well I did promise I would blog about my trip to Granada, so here I am blogging!


So I slept on the flight out there (despite some French woman seriously taking the mickey behind me and laughing every time I came round then fell asleep again), then had a very strong coffee in Malaga airport, then got on the bus to Granada and slept again! As such, when I got there I didn't feel too rough, which I personally consider a miracle. Bex was there to meet me, and we went for some cheeky tapas with Jack as you get a free tapas with every drink in Granada (and the Spanish wonder why their economy is so far down the drain...) We had a good old wander round Granada in the afternoon and saw a lot of people dressed in traditional flamenco outfits, but we couldn't find out if there was a fiesta happening. 


On Sunday I went up to the Alhambra with Flat Ted, and it was absolutely stunning! I've finally fulfilled one of my ambitions, I've always wanted to go there. I spent ages there wandering round among the thousands of tourists, filled a memory card with pictures and ran my batteries down (good job I always have spares of everything!) Then I met up with Bex again and more tapas happened, then we sat in and watched the new TinTin film as neither of us had seen it, which is just ridiculous given Bex has lived in Belgium (no, TinTin is NOT French!) and many a French A-level oral class was spent pouring over comic strips with Guillaume!


Monday was spent walking down from the Alhambra to take pictures of the pretty views, and then we hit the shops. I've had a disaster with most of my shoes, my trainers literally had holes in the bottom of them! So I got new trainers and a pair of sandals while I was in a country where I could afford to buy them, as well as some other souvenirs. Bex was very patient with me while we scouted all of Granada's shoe shops (of which there were quite a few!) and we had more tapas after to regain our strength!


Then we walked up to a couple of the view points over the city and we watched the sun set while having a good old chin wag about life, the universe and everything. It really is always fantastic to see other Lancaster people, as I think I said after my trip to see Lorraine and Caz in Lyon (or maybe I forgot to blog about that? That happened last week anyway, a quick day trip to Lyon for a nosy at where I could have gone) Seeing other people going through the same thing always helps, and in a strange sort of way it is like group therapy! This is why as much as people say 'don't hang around with English people', sometimes you just have to for your own sanity. 


Anyway, here's a shocking fact: 4 weeks today I'll be back in the Motherland. Anyone know how that happened? It feels like I've been a Fisher out of England since forever, but equally I can remember having to set off on the 2nd September like it was yesterday (and I still feel a little traumatized when I remember my dear landlord not having the keys to the apartment...) But, somehow we survive. 


Very few things have rattled me recently, but one thing has. Someone from England asked me how I was, and I said 'fine thanks, just looking forward to going home'. To which they responded 'yes but you've been looking forward to that all year'. One the one foot, they weren't wrong. I have been looking forward to the end since I arrived. But, isn't that what we do in life? When we're at uni everyone's looking towards graduation or moving on to the next qualification, at work everyone's looking towards the next weekend, the next holiday. Revelling in the moment is actually a very hard thing to do, and something we don't do very often when you come to think about it. I look forward to the end because it brings me one step closer to being back around people I know and love, which leads me closer to graduation, which means being in charge of the rest of my life. If I end up back in Geneva, then great! It's not that I've not enjoyed myself here, it's just that four months is nothing - limbo. You don't know whether to bother settling in properly or not, because it's not a long time, and everyone here pretty much made their friends at the start of the year so it's hard to break into. I'm looking forward to me being in charge of my life. Is that such a bad thing? 


I'll say it again, it's very easy to judge when you're not here. So watch what you say or you might find yourself immortalised in my blog! 

A night in the airport...

Ay ay ay! (As the Spanish would say)


Sorry once again for the long gap between blog posts, I am a bad blogger! The main reason for this lack of anything was pretty well down to a certain project that has been hovering round like the smell of garlic: fine when you're cooking but by the next morning it makes you want to retch, slap your last night self and demand to know why you didn't clean the garlic crusher the night before. Anyway. The project is done and dusted, and I even got it bound (was dirt cheap at the uni print shop - about the only thing there that is). So it is officially out of my life until I have to do an oral presentation on it in the exam period *sigh*. By then my enthusiasm might have come back.


Currently, (at 00.29  BST+1) I am sat in Geneva airport. Why, you may ask. Why indeed. This weekend I'm off to Granada to see Bex and Jack et al, and all the flights to Malaga (which is where you have to fly to, then get a bus to Granada) leave at 6.10am. Fine, you may think. However, none of the flaming buses get to the airport before 6am (and of course, my gate closes at 5.40), so I had to get one of the last buses Friday has to offer, and it's a night in the airport job. Technically, the airport is closed from midnight till 4am, but so far no one's come to tell us to get out (and they'll have a job on shifting the bloke in the corner who is asleep). Luckily, staying up till 4am wasn't a problem last night, so it shouldn't be tonight either. I might be sad and start a queue for going through security from 4am, as coffee and croissants undoubtedly lie on the other side... 


So, not much else to report, other than it's only 4 weeks and 5 days till I come back to the Motherland for good... no more year abroad. The big Year Abroad Monster that I panicked about pretty much from A-levels to now will have passed and I'll still be alive at the end of it! Now no one saw that one coming ;)


Will blog after I get back to Geneva on Tuesday, I should have something more exciting to say then! Bonne nuit tout le monde! xxx

A very busy few weeks.

I know, I fell off the radar a little before Easter. I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself and moaning about having a cold, which carried on when I got home. I did absolutely nothing while I was there, but I did see all the family, including my gorgeous niece and nephew. 


Dad came back to Geneva with me and we spent a very happy and slightly damp two weeks being shameless tourists. He said right near the start 'you take care of the French and I'll take care of the geography' and it worked out pretty well! I would tell you everything we did, but it would take several weeks. Your best bet is to look through my pictures on Facebook (which I only uploaded today as it was going to be a long job...) Needless to say, we had a fantastique time.


I was ridiculously tired after I'd packed Dad off home again, but there was very little time to recuperate as Hannah came out then, so a bit more tourism happened, and this weekend we've had Claire's boyfriend and her Dad, so another full house. We should open a hotel!


But it is lovely to see all these people from home. That is the truth. And what's even more wonderful is knowing that there's only another 9 weeks to go till I can see the people I love much more frequently. I've booked my final flight home (oo-er), which is pretty mind-blowing in itself! How have I gone from NEVER having flown to booking my LAST flight of the academic year? (I would say, last flight of the year, but I heard on the grapevine I'm heading to Germany in September...) Anyway, by the end of this trip I'll have spent 40 weeks abroad (I think, will do the maths when I'm not so tired!), and therefore I deserve a medal. Still, if I've done this, I can do anything, and therefore next year I will be unstoppable! 


Anyway, I have to go to bed as one of my classes has been moved to 8.30 tomorrow, which involves me getting up at about 6am as it takes an hour to get into uni *sigh*. Oh well. On we go!

The tale of the lost voice...

Oh the irony of someone who pretty much talks for a degree losing their voice. But yes, I have the distinction of being quiet today and therefore I'm going to blog instead.


So, where was I? Ah yes, I'd just talked about our day round CERN. Well, the Tuesday we went to the UN and got utterly confused over the queuing system, but ultimately we got in and got on a tour. It was fantastic! Me and Emily geeked out rather a lot, I've no idea if the boys did, I wasn't paying enough attention! I got all excited over seeing the interpreting booths. All the rooms are decorated differently and there's a lot of artwork donated by different countries as gifts. 


After that we had a nosy in the gift shop and went to do our touristy snaps outside the proper entrance of the UN, where all the flags are. Then it was back home, another film, dinner, etc. Oh yes, we tried to go for a fondue, but at 29 CHF each we thought better of it and just bought one from Carrefour (and saw my favourite security guard!)


Then the Very Sad Day arrived, and we went to Lake Geneva to have a look at the pretty view and eat a sandwich, but sadly we had to come home, grab stuff and go to the airport. I made a very quick exit, the quicker you get it over with, the better really. So it was a bit sad but lots of marvelous memories were made and hopefully we'll all do it again, somewhere else, somewhere different, but all together. 


And now I am exceptionally tired. It is most frustrating to not have a voice! But Mumsie's going to make bacon and eggs for tea, so things are looking up! Till next time blogeurs. 

Lucy the Linguist and Friends

Please excuse the pretentious-sounding title. It's a rip off Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends, of course, but you didn't need me to tell you that. Honest. 


Last weekend the Lancaster cohort arrived! On Saturday (after much pacing, nail biting, cleaning, bed-making and a slight washing disaster) I went to the airport. I got there about a million hours early, which gave me time to go through the whole range of emotions. From the 'YAY' kind, to the 'when I see them I'm going to cry' kind, to the 'why are they even coming? It's going to hurt so much to say bye to them again' kind. I don't know if it's just me that does this, but I often get a plan in my head that I will try not to enjoy myself too much, to avoid the 'please don't go' feeling. I don't think it's fair to say to people that I don't want them to go, in the same way that if any of you ever said in a serious but selfish manner 'please come home', I wouldn't be impressed. If I could be at home, don't you think I probably would be? (I'm sure I'll delve into this more at some point, the whole double-emotions involved in a YA which I know most of you don't understand because to you this is a great big holiday for me. Well, it's not. It is in fact a year of utter limbo, of losing your identity, finding it, wondering who you are and what the heck you've signed up for. And why do you miss everyone twenty times more than if you were just away at uni?) Anyway. By the time Raph, Emily and Ollie emerged through the arrivals gate I was up to the 'I'm flaming bored of waiting and if they don't hurry up I'm going home' stage, which is a pretty good stage to be at as it doesn't involve tissues.


So we piled into Geneva to get them all travel cards (exceptionally good value. The system here is a bit different to the Motherland - you don't pay the bus driver or anything, you have to either have a travel card or buy a ticket before you get on. No one will ask to see your ticket, but inspectors do spot-checks and there's HUGE fines. This wouldn't work in England, but the entire system here is built on trust, and as such we all need to make an effort to fit in with the system, otherwise some selfish tourists will make them change the system to something much more regimented and humanity will be one step closer to self-destruction. Lecture over.) Then we got on a rather full bus back to my flat and I had the joy of saying 'welcome to France' as we crossed the border. I do love that part! A cup of tea, a glass of wine and a lasagne later, we settled down to watch a film.

A Pacman cake. Severely limited on
baking products, but hey we persevere!

The next day (Sunday) was the lovely Ollie's 20th birthday. Which made the rest of us feel old (especially Raph and Emily, who are staring 22 in the face, muahahahaha! Sorry guys, I'm paying you back for all the short jokes). So everyone slept in, as they were all suffering from second-term-itis. I'll be honest, they're doing nothing to sell final year to me! After a solid 10 hours sleep each (at least!), life started to emerge and I think we all felt better for chilling out. I cooked a Sunday roast, we had chicken (!!!!!), roasties, carrots, peas, Yorkshires (but they turned out a bit pants as the flour here sends everything all to-cock), and some gravy which Emily had kindly bought be another tub of! Honestly, a country without Bisto. The Piece de Resistance, however, was sneaking up on Ollie with his birthday cake out on the balcony while he was taking pictures of the mountains. Of course, the wind managed to blow most of the candles out before he had chance to, but still, the thought was there.

So the long and short of Sunday was, we didn't do a right lot. It's a pain in the backside to get in and out of Geneva on a Sunday anyway, and everyone was very happy to soak in the French atmosphere with another bottle of wine and good company. I hadn't talked to this lot for well over a month due to their horrific workload so we had plenty to catch up on. Like the entirety of my new life here, and how rubbish third year is. 


Monday we went to CERN. This is the place that's been in the news for having the hydron collider and they're trying to find something very clever. All questions should be addressed to someone who has a clue about science. Anyway, it was very good! I was pleasantly surprised by how much I geeked out, and how many questions I felt the need to ask the boys (as they're both scientists). We spent ages there, even though there's only two exhibitions and a shop! Afterwards we went back into Geneva and walked towards the Jet d'eau and took the obligatory touristy snaps in front of that and the flower clock, and then it was time to head home. It was a day for pretending that turkey was in fact chicken (at least in my mind) and drinking more vino (I know we sound like alcoholics, but when a decent wine is 3,50 E a bottle, what is one to do???)


Right, I should get some shut-eye as I'm flying home tomorrow. Funny how I can never sleep before I fly. It's certainly not out of excitement though as airports are terminally boring (BAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, made my own joke there and laughed at myself. I'm tired, leave me alone!) I shall be back with part 2 of our epic adventure very soon I hope! I'll try not to keep you in suspense. Ta-ra!

The post-settling-in and pre-holiday slump.

A weekend of rain caught me by surprise. It's the first rain I've seen in over a month, but I still moaned. Can't take the British out of the Brit. Of course, I managed to go for a walk in Geneva while it was bucketing it down, got thoroughly cold and miserable, then came home and had a bath before I caught hypothermia. On the up, I discovered that my ski jacket is indeed as waterproof as the label claimed. And I did spend a wonderful hour in the bath. So, not a complete waste of a Sunday.


It appears that I have hit what I have declared is the post-settling-in and pre-holiday slump. This is the time when you start to realise that this is now your life. You have found a routine (hurrah!). You notice that only having enough clothes to last you 7 days means that you wear exactly the same thing every week. The security guard in Carrefour starts to recognise you. You've developed a taste for Brie and therefore you miss cheddar slightly less. Of course, not all of these things are bad, but you get sick of other people expecting you to be photographed next to ridiculous tourist attractions just to prove you're on your Erasmus year having the time of your life. And you start to think, a bit of normality wouldn't go amiss, which makes you think of the most normal place in the world, which has to be home. This isn't being homesick, this is being ready for a holiday at home. Quite a different thing. 


Oh I am having the time of my life, believe me! I just feel I could have made more of an effort these past few weekends, I can almost feel the contempt people possibly have for the girl who lazes around on a weekend instead of running headlong at most of Europe. I can hear the 'I wish I had the opportunity to do that...'s lining up right now to batter me about the head.  


However, luckily I don't give two hoots what anybody thinks. Unless you've been through this, you quite frankly have no right to comment or tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing. Neither do I care that your second-cousin-once-removed travelled and had the time of his life and worked as a barman on the Costa del Sol and got fluent in Spanish overnight. No he didn't, and even if he did, why do you think that is the perfect model of a YA? Remember the phrase 'hindsight is a wonderful thing'...


Anyway, enough of me moaning (sorry, it happens when you decide to blog when you should be snoring away). Instead of filling my last free weekend for a while (due to visits, a trip home, and more visits) with wearing myself out, I have taken the very wise advice of Winnie the Pooh: 'Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering.' Wise words Pooh. Especially abroad. Other countries have different sounds, different smells, a veritable ambiance which is different. And as such, I do not believe I have wasted my time at all, rather soaked up the culture and my beautiful surroundings, not to mention caught up with sleep and got all this week's work done.


And in fact, we have done some things, they just happen to be what we want to do, and not things that people expect us to do. Today Claire and I discovered that we're right on the edge of the countryside, with a farm and little village which very much resembles the outer edges of Galgate, and there was a wonderful heron and another bird which Dad has identified as a Black Kite swooping about. Now if that isn't lovely, I don't know what is. Simplicity is soul-restoring.


Right, I'm going to shut up and go to bed now. Phew. Feel better for that though, I think I've been wanting to say this since September! Next time you hear someone's going to spend some time abroad, here's a list of things not to say:
1) You're going to have the time of your life.
2) You should make the most of it.
3) Oh can't be bad, going to live abroad for a while! Wish I could get away.
4) A year-long holiday! Lucky you!


Till next time blogeurs, when I shall have a very wonderful set of visitors to write about! Yay! 
Loves xxx

A church, an encounter with Swiss efficiency, and a Specsavers appointment in the brewing.

Bonjour tout le monde!


Well it's been a week most ordinary. Last Sunday and this Sunday I braved church, which is always interesting when you move to a new place. This one's called Crossroads and is an English-speaking church, which is really quite nice! Some would say it's cheating, I say: why make life harder? If I didn't go to this one I'd have to cross the border, which is a nightmare on a Sunday. Besides, this church is right up my street, the people are very friendly and welcoming, and it feels like a little bit of home.


Aside from that, I generally felt pants last week. I think it might be time for new glasses with the amount of headaches I've had recently, but that's going to have to wait till Easter. Specsavers here I come (grumble groan, it's going to involve the usual talk with the optician about how I don't really need new specs because my eyes haven't changed that much, and me explaining that I'd rather not shell out for them but functioning with headaches isn't my idea of fun...)


Yesterday I found my way to the Jardin Botanique, which was a pain in the backside to get to because it seems half of the buses in Geneva don't run on a Saturday, even though there's times up at the bus stops for them. So much for Swiss efficiency. Anyway, I finally made it there. It's not all that interesting unless you're a botanist. I look at a rock with three different types of moss on them and I think 'oooh look at the pretty colours' and then move on, but I'm sure botonists don't. Anyway, I then made my way to Lake Geneva and had a nice little wander along the quay, but this time there wasn't any ice! I also stopped into C&A and maybe bought two tops. Oops. Oh well, only having about a week's worth of clothes is a pain, two tops mean washing doesn't have to be done in such an emergency every Tuesday. 


That's me done for today Blogeurs, I'm hitting the hay. I'll try to do something more interesting this week!