Cycling adventures and feeling at home

I've been here for six weeks, isn't that crazy? Some days I feel like I've been here forever, which is great, but also scares me a little because I never, ever want to take being here for granted. I'm a big believer in always appreciating what you've worked for, and what your family, friends and teachers have helped you to get. It's lovely to feel at home, but I don't ever want there to be a morning where I'm walking to the métro and don't think, 'Wow, I'm in Paris. This is where I live, for at least three years.' This thought never fails to lights up my day.

 Autumn has definitely set in here. In the little square where I sometimes eat my lunch (nothing beats a chicken wrap), the leaves are falling fast, and I've bought myself a fluffy grey scarf the size of a beach towel to wrap myself up in. I can't wait to experience this city in the winter!

My walk from the métro to Uni takes me past the Assemblée Nationale, which is rather exciting because there is sometimes a protest happening. The other day there was a protest against the job cuts at Air France. Another time, a diplomat of some sort arrived in an armoured vehicle, and  a harassed-looking man was giving a statement to at least twelve journalists who were all sticking cameras and microphones in his face. I just sauntered by in the background, wondering if this was my fifteen seconds of fame! It's also pretty crazy that some of my lectures are focussed around the Assemblée Nationale. I sit there thinking, I walked past it on the way here!

I now cycle home from Uni most days, something I really look forward to because I just love whizzing down the Boulevard St Germain! I've been going out on little bike rides just for the fun of it. On Sunday I cycled to the Jardin des Plantes. It's great for getting my bearings in this city, because I have a terrible sense of direction. But the Left Bank seems to be made up of lots of long Boulevards that all interconnect at one stage or another, so finding my way is easier than I thought.

When I first started this cycling malarkey I was certain that I was putting myself in an early grave. It's true that drivers in Paris can be very pushy to say the least, and the motorbikes and mopeds are probably the scariest of all. But luckily the government has made sure that there's a lot of cycle lanes, and cyclists can also go in the bus lanes, which makes me feel a lot safer. Of course, sometimes I have found myself having to navigate very scary junctions. In these situations, I behave like my responsible adult self. (ahem.) Actually, I pedal at top speed looking wildly around me for cars, while shouting 'HEEEEEEEELP'. I don't think I could stand out more as a British girl if I tried! 

Today, I had the misfortune of choosing a bike with a seat that was very well oiled. So well, in fact, that it suddenly turned round just as I was zooming down Boulevard Raspail, and I found myself sitting on nothing! I couldn't stop because of the traffic on my tail, so all I could do was cycle standing up on the pedals and laugh at myself! 

This week I also joined the local library; which made me very happy because it means unlimited French books are at my disposal! I can't wait to browse the many shelves full of novels; maybe this will stop me spending so much in second hand bookshops.

A conclusion that I have come to is that the UK and France seem to have no consistency when it comes to the prices of items in supermarkets. I don't know if I'm shopping in the wrong places, but I've found things like shampoo, deodorant, meats, and fresh fruit and veg to be horrendously expensive. On the other hand, pastries, milk and things like olives seem to be very reasonably priced. I'm still not used shopping in another currency, but nevertheless I was shocked when I bought two small oranges and paid 1.28! Truth be told, I'm missing the 99p bags of clementines in Morrisons. 

The cashiers at my local supermarket are starting to recognise me; I can't decide if this is a bit sad, or if this is great because it means that I'm one step further in making my home here. I think I'll go with the latter. 

Another thing that is expensive is getting your eyebrows done- girls, beware! In the UK, I got them done for £2. Last weekend I paid 10 euros out of pure desperation because I was beginning to resemble some sort of abominable snowman. My brows turned out okay, and I learned a new word when I winced as the lady ripped off the wax strip, and asked me if I was 'douillette', i.e. if I had a low pain threshold. I never thought that brow waxing could turn out to be an educational experience! 

These next few days will be intense as I have a very scary essay to hand in, but after that's done I'm celebrating with a Halloween party, coffee with some girls visting from home and a trip up the Montparnasse tower. 

Big hugs and kisses to everyone at home, 

K x