Reading in Paris and Autumn Term Roundup

I'm sitting at my kitchen table, back in my family home in the UK. The Christmas tree is still up, and therefore the whole family is still somewhat caught in a happy festive haze, wandering around eating Christmas cake to the soundtrack of the carols on Classic FM. It's times like these that I feel like I've never even been away because everything's so warm and familiar. It's comforting to have this 'point de repère', or landmark, in my life at this time. I feel that everything is changing so dramatically and that every time I go away I come back even more different to the girl who left her home town in Sept 2015 for Paris.

As I predicted, this term has flown by even faster than I could have imagined. Essays and deadlines aside, I've loved every single minute. Yes, uni has really challenged me (at least I'm getting my money's worth!), and I've found my modules genuinely interesting. They've been very literature-heavy, which I thought would put me off French literature for a good long while, but quite the opposite has happened. They've ignited a strong interest in both French and English classics and now I'm reading everything that I can get my hands on. My last reads are L'Etranger (Camus), Le Petit Prince (Antoine de St-Exupéry) and 1984 (George Orwell). As you can imagine, these are all extremely thought provoking and I think my brain may explode. This situation may not improve any time soon as I've just bought War and Peace, and The Catcher In The Rye is waiting patiently on my bedside table. In terms of French literature, La Peste (Camus) and Voyage Au Bout De La Nuit (Céline) are definitely on my list.

This spark of interest has come about partly as a result of my shame that my knowledge of French literature is definitely not what it should be. Also, as somebody who is extremely interested in translation and who is considering it as a career, I should be reading as much as possible.

One book that has had an unprecedented deep effect on me is Nord Perdu by Nancy Huston. The author was born Canadian, moved to France in early adulthood and now is a bilingual French citizen. The book, written in such beautiful French that I could only dream to produce one day, is an account of her experience of trying to find balance in her life between two continents and cultures. I read it pretty much in one go, huddled in a chair in the freezing Luxembourg Gardens, unable to put it down because it touched me so deeply. The compass as a metaphor was powerful and all the joys and the difficulties that she spoke about I related to on some level.

In the spirit of my two great loves of Paris and reading, here are some....

 Quiet and Secret Gardens to Read In!

• Square Marcel Bleustein Blanchet, 18ème- hidden behind the Sacré-Coeur, this is overlooked by everybody. 
• Square Ajaccio, 7ème- Shh, this is a secret one. 
• Allée Marcel Proust, Champs-Elysées- set back off the busy Avenue, you can block out the traffic if you strategically place yourself on a bench behind a bush. 
• Little park in front of Trinité d'Estienne-d'Orves- this is where I did a good chunk of my revision last summer. The church, my favourite in Paris, gives a beautiful backdrop.

What else have I been doing this term apart from studying and reading, I hear my devoted fanbase clamouring to know? (I joke, my fanbase consists of my parents. Big love to you)

Here's another list: 

• Jumping on Line 13 to go to my Translation Internship
• Experimenting with omelette fillings
• Going to concerts of my favourite artists- a nice mix of old theatres and huge arenas 
• Exploring the streets whilst running
• Getting angry about the US Election with literally everybody
• Making cute treats for Halloween
• Eating sushi home-made by my flatmate 
• Cleaning up the mess I make by continuously knocking over my cacti 
• Being all touristy with my friend Jenny who came to visit (fun shout out) 

And even more random memories, because I'm sentimental and I love it: 

The metro late at night////drinking hot chocolate for breakfast in Panis////running down the Avenue de Saxe in the rain////sheep behind Invalides////stockpiling chickpeas////exchanging cute notes with flatmates via our pigeonholes////Piscine Blomet////the autumn leaves in the Luxembourg Gardens///sharp morning air on the Boulevard Raspail////looking for a suede jacket and finding one/////being covered in streamers at the Maitre Gims concert////gatherings at Maubert-Mutualité, Strasbourg-St-Denis and Poissonnière 

I never wanted this term to end, and now it has. In true Katharine-style, I wish the same for this coming term. As long as I'm still laughing, running and working, I'll be happy.

I'll be back in Paris on Thursday. I can't wait to see what this new term brings.

K x

Second year so far

I haven't posted here for a while; I keep starting a new draft, forget about it and then a few weeks later it's not relevant any more. Time seems to be accelerating and that's something I'm not okay with; throughout my year-and-a-bit in Paris I've had an almost physical sensation that time is slipping through my fingers. I want to savour every bit of this experience.

 My parents and brother came over last week and we all visited the Loire Valley together. It was such a lovely couple of days. I'm learning to treasure the time with my family in a different way now that I live here, and I love that. It was rather odd to show them around my foyer and quartier; the gap between my two lives suddenly became very clear. I'm sure that this is something that every student can relate to; a feeling that your Uni life and your Home life coexist harmoniously in separate bubbles, and when they fuse for a moment it feels very strange. That said, we had the best time together and I can't describe how much I appreciate that they came to see me. 

Recently I've just felt so happy. The other night I was lying in bed, in that strange in-between stage when you're not quite asleep but not really awake either, and I just thought, 'Life is good right now.' Like every student, I'm so used to feeling like life is hitting me in the face all the time with new pressures and deadlines, that I almost didn't realise that lately I actually seem to have everything together. I've dealt with what stressed me out last year, and the result is that my mind isn't so clouded with a to-do list that I can see past my unfinished essay and dirty washing, to the fact that I have the most amazing friends, great opportunities in a new internship and job, and that I'm actually getting a lot of enjoyment out of my degree at the moment. 

Of course, this doesn't mean that I think my life is perfect, and I don't want to appear to be boasting. I just feel like it's important to recognise when you're happy; society as a whole spends way too much time being negative! I'm going to continue doing what I'm doing and hope that this continues for a long time.

My life now consists of: runs on the rive gauche, Friday morning markets, reading up on translation theory, going to the pool with flatmates, learning about spices, listening to the best playlists on the metro, cycling to uni in the morning light, woolly hats, spying on the neighbours with my roommate, porridge, the deepest most honest conversations with my friends, frozen bananas, walking along the Boulevard du Montparnasse in my gold-heeled ballerina pumps and feeling complete.

I like second year so far.

Bisous,

K x

Things that happen when you live between two countries

Splitting your life between two countries can be really, really disorientating. Of course, it makes you feel really cultured and international (you can also sweep past all the confused people trying to find Eurostar check-in thinking 'Make way, make way, experienced traveller coming through!'). But whenever I travel from one of my 'homes' to the other, I always need a few days to adjust. Kindly see below the list of things that I have done since getting back to the UK a few days ago....

• Had to suppress a cheery 'Bonjour!' to the cashier in Morrisons
• Also had to suppress a cheery 'Au Revoir!' to said cashier
• The same goes for kissing acquaintances on each cheek- I'm now faced with a choice between hug and handshake and I've forgotten how to judge
• Left every appliance in the house on because in France there are no switches on the sockets
• Looked the wrong way when crossing the road, became confused and ended up looking in all the directions at once (honestly, it's a miracle I haven't died yet)  
• Bemoaned the lack of public transport. Why oh why does my hometown not have the metro?!
• Constantly done double takes when signs and billboards are in English
• Been puzzled at the lack of Longchamp bags, trench coats and Chelsea boots. And then re-realised that I'm not in Paris any more and people are a lot more chilled when they go grocery shopping
• Had to remember not to subtract a percentage of the price in shops, because things are in pounds now! 

Imagine this whole list the other way round, and that's the adjustment I have to make when going back to Paris! You wouldn't think that a country so close to the UK would have so many differences. 

Let me know if you can relate/have things to add! 

K x 

Onwards and upwards: the end of BA1

A couple of weeks ago,  I had my very last exam, marking the end of the first year of my degree! Tomorrow, I'll be packing my bags for the last time this academic year. Wish me luck; I definitely have more stuff than I started with! I may have to enlist the help of one of my flatmates to sit on my suitcase as I zip it shut.


If I said that I wasn't sad about leaving for a few months, I'd be lying. I'm going to miss Paris a lot. But since exams ended I've had such an amazing time just being a tourist, going to exhibitions, concerts, and day trips (Giverny is amazing). I even went to a reception at the ambassador's residence, which was an incredible experience. I've spent so much time with my favourite people, some of whom won't be here next year. It's been bittersweet.


Everything's fixed for my return in September- I've finally got a room with a balcony, shared with the lovely Clara (cheeky shoutout). I can't wait to get back and decorate it with my postcard collection (yes, I'm ridiculous), fairy lights, and who knows, I might even go the whole way and get a houseplant. Yolo.

I see Paris as my home now. I can't quite explain this. I know that I've only been here a year, and there's a lot of people that I love back in the UK. I'll always feel at home with my family, but (and I mean this in the most sensitive way possible) my life is here now. I'm where I'm supposed to be. I feel centred, balanced, here.


I don't want to be over-emotional but I just need to say this: this year has been the happiest of my life so far. It hasn't been without its challenges, but I've had the confidence and the right people around me to help me through. When I look back at my life this time last year, I'm reminded of how much more positive I've become and the self-belief that I've gained. I'm going to do my utmost to ensure that next year is even better. Onwards and upwards!

This summer is going to be a good one. It won't be long before I'm packing my bags again, and I'm so excited. As always, I'll be posting snippets of my adventures, and all the experiences and funny disasters along the way!



Until September, Paris. You've been everything I hoped for and more.

K x

Why living in a Foyer is the best thing you'll ever do

Whenever I have to explain what a Foyer is to English people I seem to use a different translation, but none ever seems to be apt. I've described it as a sort of student halls (probably the best attempt), a dormitory, and a boarding house (which makes it sound like a Victorian jail).

Basically, it's a building with about sixty students divided into floors of about ten to twelve. Some girls share rooms, others have one all to themselves. Each floor has a shared kitchen, shared showers, shared toilets, etc. It usually has a religious focus, or is attached to a religious group. Mine is Catholic, but the majority of the girls, including me, are not Catholics, and there's never any discrimination, bias, or attempts at conversion, thank goodness! I don't think anyone wants to have someone try and convert them over their coffee and toast in the morning.

My university hasn't got any halls, and my other options were getting a flat on my own or with people from uni. I know that I'd hate living alone, and no way was I organised enough to sort out a flat, especially one overseas. So a Foyer was my only option...not to mention the cheapest.

When I told my friends back home that this is where I'd chosen to live, there were mixed reactions- mostly horror, to be honest! Everyone, including me, to be honest, had visions of nuns and 10pm curfews. It seemed as far away from the 'British university experience' as you can get.

In actual fact, I think it's the closest thing that you can get to the British university experience when you're living abroad, and by British university experience, I mean getting to meet tons of different people doing totally different subjects to you, bonding over silly amounts of pasta, and going out together. I've ended up with friends both from France and places all over the world.

Ridiculous things have happened, including a certain person accidentally setting fire to a bag of popcorn in the microwave and causing mass panic (shoutout to my gal Salma) and somebody else locking themselves out of their room at 1am and having to do some seriously impressive stuff with a potato masher to get it open (Clara, I'm still impressed and sorry that I was useless). This is Foyer life!

Most of the time, however, our Foyer is a disaster free zone, although admittedly the limescale in the kettle is getting to a toxic level. We have a library, a launderette (by that, I mean a washing machine, a dryer and loads of clothes horses in an underground cave) and a lovely lady who comes and cleans our kitchen and bathroom. I don't think I'll have this at any other stage in my life!

Of course, there are always downsides. I have approximately half a shelf in the fridge, and sometimes the WiFi just stops working for NO REASON and the whole Foyer doesn't know what to do with itself. People come wandering into the kitchen looking lost and confused.

In short, life in a studio flat can suit people perfectly, and I can completely see why. But living in a Foyer is totally my thing. It's great to get home to a kitchen full of people or a movie night. It sounds cheesy but it really does feel more like a family, something that's very important to me as I don't go home that often. Plus, my French has definitely improved, one of the main reasons that I chose a Foyer in the first place. Living alongside French people, you definitely pick up things without realising...even if it is colloquial insults. Thanks a lot, people!

I'm staying on next year, and I think I'm going to ask for a shared room again. It is a little sad because most of my group are going back to uni in their countries or are going to do university exchanges and go abroad. Some are staying, though, and knowing the amazing people I've met this year makes me excited for next.

It's highly unlikely that future first years are reading this, but if by any chance you are, check out some Foyers. They're great.

K x

Paris vs Exams

This time of year feels so strange because it feels like the academic year is over already. Lectures are finished and the only thing left is exams. It does feel weird having exam stress in a foreign city because to be honest I've never stopped feeling like I'm on an extended holiday. Don't get me wrong, I have actually worked hard this year (well, mostly...), but it's so hard to get into the study zone when you can see the Eiffel Tower from your uni library!

The issue with having to do revision in a foreign capital city is that there are so many ways to procrastinate! Back in the UK I would get distracted by the internet like everyone else, but here I wake up and think, 'Oh, today's a lovely day, imagine the view from the Sacré Coeur!' And then I just jump on the métro and spend a couple of hours wandering around Montmartre.

The upside is that I can bribe myself to do revision by promising a trip to a cool gallery or a walk along the Seine with one of my friends who is equally as bored by revision as me. I feel like anyone who studies abroad, or in a cool city in the UK, can relate- even though we've been away for a couple of terms now, there's still a novelty about it and so many places that we want to see that we haven't got to yet.

I ticket one of these places off my mental list today, and that is La Butte aux Cailles. Think beautiful cobbled winding streets with old lamps and flowers peeping over the whitewashed walls. I heard nothing but birdsong for probably the first time since I've been in Paris. Perfect for an evening walk, or you can Vélib it.

I have a confession, and that is that for about 80% of the time I carry a Paris guidebook that my grandma gave me in my bag. Not very Parisian, I know! The thing is that it has so many great recommendations (at one point it was full of strips of paper to mark the places I wanted to go to) and sometimes I'm coming back from somewhere or on a boring errand and just fancy taking off somewhere for an hour or so. That's how I found out about La Butte aux Cailles.  It also has some pretty great maps that I use when cycling because my phone always seems to die.

For students in big cities, small cities or just anywhere really, I totally recommend getting a guidebook. Yes, it makes you look stupid, especially when you're looking at a map on a street corner and the real locals (I count myself as a fake local, or shall we say fokal) are giving you disapproving looks as if to say, 'How can that silly tourist get so lost?'. At this point I always want to jump up and down shouting, 'Lies and slander! I live here, kindly inspect my Navigo pass and library card!'. But of course that would be ridiculous and embarrassing, and oh-so-not Parisian.

Anyway, I'm off topic- the message here is basically that guidebooks look lame but can be useful. You don't have to consult it in the middle of the street blocking everyone else (seriously, don't), but I've discovered so many great places thanks to it. Thanks, Grandma!

Exam period is dragging on, but in a week or so I'll be free and enjoying my last weeks in Paris before the summer. (Argh, 'last weeks'! Where has this year gone to?!) But before I start reminiscing on what has been the best year of my life so far (here we go already), I must stop and go to bed because my sleep schedule is ridiculous. It doesn't matter what country you're in, the student life is still the same!

Gros bisous,

K x

Thoughts about Brussels

The first thing I saw when I woke up on Tuesday morning was the news that there had been a terrorist attack in Brussels. The anger and sadness I felt was so overwhelming that I just lay in bed and cried. I don't think we, as compassionate human beings, can ever understand what drives people to do this.
We can analyse for weeks on end and write books and interview ex-Daech members. But to get anywhere close to comprehending why somebody would plan for months and years to kill innocent people? Impossible.

Impossible was the word a Belgian minister apparently used to describe the war on terror. In an odd sort of way, I felt a grim sense of relief that at least somebody seems to be voicing what the people feel. I understand why world leaders have to give the zero-tolerance response that they do. But the problem is so complex, and we don't have enough resources or manpower, 'we' being Europe as a whole.

I know that to say that the problem is 'impossible' is not helpful, nor necessarily what we need to hear in times like these. However I felt that it was an expression of what a lot of people seem to feel, and within me at least, this very human admission struck a chord.

I think that one of the most upsetting things that people are saying is that it was only a matter of time. I admit that when I saw the news, it was a shock, but it was not a surprise. I cannot imagine the atmosphere in Brussels ever since the Paris attacks if that was truly what everyone was thinking. A whole city, afraid. At the very least, in the aftermath of the Paris attacks, we all had the facts to deal with to try and make sense of things. But the Belgians had none of that; all they had was rumours and fear for a good few months until this.

One thing that I find disgusting is sensationalist media headlines saying things like: 'London is next!' and 'Europe under attack!'. This is absolutely useless. It gives no practical or official information and just spreads more fear, which is incidentally the aim of the terrorists. We KNOW that London is a terrorist target. Sensationalist reporting just to sell more copies or whatever is absolutely awful, and is one of the things that annoyed me the most in the days after both the Paris and Brussels attacks.

Sorry that this just turned into a huge rant, if you even carried on reading after the first paragraph. These attacks really have affected me and my friends in Paris on a personal level, even though we don't know many people in Brussels. I wouldn't wish the impact of the attacks on Paris on any city.

Realistically, this won't be the last. But it would be wonderful if it was.

K x

Why this term has been the best!

I can't believe that I'm going home in a week for Easter. It seems about five minutes since I got back to Paris after Christmas!

This term has been absolutely amazing. I've loved pretty much every minute- of course, not those spent writing essays into the early hours the night before a deadline! It's all part of the student life, I suppose.

Whereas I spent pretty much the whole of last term trying to find my feet here and balancing studying, work, a social life and sleep (I still haven't cracked this), this term I've been able to relax and just enjoy being here. My area really does feel like home now, and so do all my other favourite places in Paris. I've had more time to go out with my friends, and I've met so many amazing new people at language events. Plus, I went to Disneyland for the first time, and got excited like a small child.

It's odd to think that I arrived here knowing nobody. Now I feel so lucky to be living with such wonderful girls, and to know some amazing people at uni. I've found out that I actually like doing exercise, and actively look forward to going for a run. What's happened?!
 I've had loads of cool movie nights, and gone to the massive cinemas in Montparnasse to see some amazing new releases. I guess this is what happens when you live with people who know a lot about films and theatre. I'm not complaining!

On Thursday, I saw Zazie on her Encore Heureux Tour. This chanteuse is the whole reason that I even started learning French in the first place, so seeing her perform for the first time (my dream for about six years) in Paris, where I live because of her, was perfect. I knew every single song she sung by heart, not only because they taught me French, but because they each represented a different part of my teenage years. Of course, I bought loads of overpriced merchandise, including a massive poster (to my roommates dismay!).

It was one of the best nights of my life. It kind of felt like a symbolic end to my period of feeling like a newbie here. I feel like I've been upgraded one level closer to being a real Parisian.


I especially feel this way because today I had lunch in my favourite café in St Michel with some of my favourite people, and then we went to see Don Giovanni at the Versailles Opera. It really was the perfect Sunday.

I know that exams are looming, but for now, I just want to make the most of Paris in the spring and my wonderful flatmates who won't be here next year.
This time next week, I'll be back in my front room with my lovely family. I can't wait to see you all!

K x

Thoughts on homelessness in Paris

I've been meaning to write a post about this for a while. It's an issue that's been at the back-and often the forefront- of my mind for a few months, because there are people begging and sleeping rough wherever I go in Paris.
There's an old man who limps in and out of the traffic when it stops at the lights at the Vavin intersection, shaking an old coffee cup at the drivers. There's a very disturbed guy who sits outside one of the cinemas on the Place du 18 juin 1940, shouting incomprehensibly at nothing. On the same Place, a family of three sleeps on a mattress outside one of the little newspaper kiosks. I walk past them every time I go to the swimming pool

Often somebody will get on the métro and resignedly recite a speech to the carriage, explaining they have no food and begging for money or a 'ticket restaurant', a food voucher.

It always amazes and repulses me in equal measure that in a first world, economically prosperous country, people are left to live in such awful conditions. They're begging metres from expensive restaurants and expensive apartments.  I have the means to rent a room and buy food, which is more than some of these people will ever have. This actually makes me feel a bit sick, because some people beg all day for the bare minimum to stay alive, whereas I have everything I need and more and only do a couple of hours work a week.

Yesterday, my flatmates and I took the metro to a club. During the journey, one homeless guy sitting near us attacked another homeless guy who he seemed to be travelling with. At one point, he threatened him with a metal padlock on the end of a strap. He was swinging it, meaning serious damage. I'm pretty sure that nobody in the train breathed for a moment. Luckily, the other guy managed to calm his attacker down before anything really serious happened.

 It really made me think. The violent one was definitely not right mentally and I wondered what sort of life he had led, and what sort of prospects he had in the future, i.e. none. Although these men were human beings just like me and my friends, and we were sharing a train, they almost came from another world, having been outlawed from society. I can't imagine what it must be like, being on the outside and looking in. Sharing city streets with students and businessmen and women, but never being entitled to anything. No wonder the guy had mental health problems.

I don't really know what to do about all this- I do sometimes give to people on the street, especially if its a girl my age or a family, but I've had a lot of people tell me I shouldn't because there's no way of knowing where the money is going. One of my ideas is to somehow get my hands on some 'tickets restaurant'- I don't know if I can buy them to give to people from some sort of organisation, but at least it would ensure that what I give is going towards food. If anyone knows any charities that help the homeless specifically in the Ile-de-France area, please let me know. Once again, that way I'd know that anything that I would give would go to the right place.

Just a few thoughts on a Friday!

K x

Embracing my inner tourist and going to Language Exchanges

I came back to Paris after Christmas feeling like I'd never been away. Apart from a rather nasty surprise of library fines (that's what you get for getting out three different biographies of De Gaulle and forgetting about them), I'm so happy to be back.
 It's very cold here; the pond in the Luxembourg gardens has actually iced over! Somehow this only adds to the Parisian charm. The Christmas decorations are still up, although very late at night last week we witnessed somebody lowering her dead Christmas tree out of the window of her fourth floor apartment by a worryingly thin string. The man who we assumed to be her husband waiting to catch it on the ground looked mortified!

There's a new girl on my floor from Egypt studying for a semester at the Sorbonne, which has resulted in me attending most of their Fresher's events! There's so much going on on the international student scene that I wasn't even aware of last term. They have amazing parties most nights a week, latino dancing nights and of course plenty of language exchanges and trips. I can't wait to get involved this term.

I've taken the decision to leave my job, as I've found it increasingly difficult to balance it with my uni work. I have to work the two month notice period, so I'll be finishing mid-March, just before the exams start.
This is really convenient, not only because it means that I'll have so much more time to study, but also because I can go home for a good chunk of the Easter break. It's only been three weeks, but I'm already missing my family and friends way more than last term. During the Christmas break I had such a good time with everyone that it was hard to leave them behind.

That said, when you're in a city like Paris there is always something to do to take your mind off things. I've been  up the Arc de Triomphe for the first time, revisited Napoleon's tomb and the army museum at Invalides, and explored the 10ème.
On Sunday, I went with some friends to a language exchange at the tearoom at the big Mosque in the 13ème. We drank very sweet tea and talked about North Korea, which was actually quite fun. I would definitely recommend it!

Important note to any students reading- check out the Covent Garden Soup Company. They make cartons of healthy fresh soup that all you have to do is heat up. Carrot and Coriander is amazing, as is Thai Chicken. You can find them in Monoprix, Franprix and Casino, and I think I'm eating so much better because of it. Gone are the days of different shapes of pasta!

As always, a heap of important assignments have crept up on me and so these next few weeks probably won't be as eventful as the last. I still have heaps of plans, some more adventurous than others (days out of the city visiting castles and concentration camps among them), but they might have to be put on hold until these essays are out the way! I have to constantly keep reminding myself that I'm here to study...

Speaking of, I have to leave for work now.

K x

Reflexions on the last semester, and plans for the next

I can't believe that I've been living in Paris for three months, and completed the first semester at Uni. It's such a cliché but time has gone by so fast. It seems like yesterday that I was hauling my suitcase up the stairs to my new accommodation, feeling a bit sick with a mixture of excitement and nerves.
I'm coming to the end of my three week Christmas break at home, and it's been beyond amazing to see all my family and friends. I don't think I quite realised how much I missed you all until I saw you!

 Truth be told, on the Eurostar home a little voice in my mind kept asking, 'What if I've changed? What if everyone else has changed?' I did, and do still, feel very different to the nervous, converse-wearing girl clutching her one-way ticket to Paris three months ago. As I didn't go home during Reading Week due to work commitments, I'd gone longer than most others without seeing my parents or best friend in real life, as opposed to Skype.

(Side note- if you move abroad, WiFi quality is of the utmost importance. The connection always seemed to fail just as I was having a deep chat with my parents, or was in fits of laughter with one of my friends. It seems trivial, but it reminds you how just far away from your loved ones you are. At some points I was ready to drop kick my laptop. Moving on....)

However, I needn't have worried; from the moment my mum and I coincidentally met on the doorstep, me laden down with a suitcase and a violin fresh back from Paris, and her coming home from work, it was like I'd never been away. The only thing that has changed in my hometown is the big, shiny new Burger King. Apart from that, it feels like no time has passed since I left!

I'm going back to Paris this weekend, and I'm looking forward to it. I've missed my friends over there, both French, English, (and Polish- cheeky shout out to Ola) and the two children that I babysit and their lovely families. I'm excited to cycle down the Boulevard Saint-Michel, to buy a baguette from my favourite boulangerie, and to stroll around the Sunday markets in Montparnasse.

This semester, I've resolved to go swimming five days a week, to eat more fruit and less pasta, and to do all the reading for lectures (Unlikely, let's face it, but worth a try). Thanks to an amazing book my dad gave me, I also have loads of ideas for jaunts out of the city on the RER. I've also been reading a book about Paris during the occupation, which has inspired me to visit the Musée de la Resistance Nationale in Champigny-sur-Marne, just outside of Paris. Hopefully I'll get there soon!

I'll update as soon as I can- I have a feeling that this semester is going to be even busier than the last.

K x

Thoughts on Paris a week after the attacks

It's now a week since the attacks, and so much has changed. This is how I feel the atmosphere in Paris has changed over the last week; drastically, but not irreparably.
For one, people are scared, and understandably so. The other day when me and a friend were getting lunch from a place just inside Invalides metro station, a siren went off because somebody went through the wrong barrier. Everyone jumped and looked terrified, including the armed policemen who were patrolling, and during the brief moment before I realised there was no danger, my brain went into overdrive and I was prepared to run.
I'm slowly becoming used to seeing armed police everywhere. Yesterday I was on the métro and turned round to be faced with a machine gun. The policeman holding it was chatting with his colleague, which made the whole thing a lot less terrifying, but a little unnerving all the same.
Now, my bag is always being checked, even before being allowed into a supermarket. Security is being stepped up absolutely everywhere. Also, pretty much every big public event in the near future has been cancelled, including the turning on of the Christmas lights on the Champs-Elysées, which shows how seriously the authorities are taking public safety (and rightly so).

Have my own feelings about Paris changed? Yes and no. Something like this so close to home is horrible, and upon hearing the news that an attack was planned for La Défense (which I walk through on my way to work five days a week) I felt physically sick. This week, it has been hard to feel safe, but I am getting there.
However, I am trying to stay positive. The Paris that I know and love is still there, beneath everything. The lights of the cafés and cinemas of Montparnasse are still shining. This may sound silly, and I apologise if so, but the terrorists have already taken enough. They cannot take the spirit of this city too.

Just three hours before the attacks, I was sitting on the steps of La Grande Arche at La Défense. The whole of the business district was lit up in the dusk, the lights from the skyscrapers glimmering against the backdrop of the purple sky. I could see right to the Arc de Triomphe, with a shimmering column of white and red lights from the traffic going towards it. It was so beautiful that I just sat there and let the city buzz around me. I felt at home, and very, very safe.
The memory of this feeling is what is keeping me calm, and it gives me little nudges whenever I hear a siren, or see that yet another suspicious package has been found on the métro (this past week, this has been happening pretty much every hour, no exaggeration).

On Monday, I made a spontaneous decision to go to the Place de la République for the memorial at noon. It was very moving to take part in the minutes silence with hundreds of others, and to see the monument in the centre covered with flowers, candles and messages of peace and hope.
I also went with some people to see the Eiffel Tower lit up in the colours of the French flag, which was incredible.

Fluctuat nec mergitur- she is tossed by the waves, but does not sink. The motto of Paris has never been more apt.

K x

A sad day for Paris.

After the events of yesterday evening, Paris is in mourning. Having been advised not to go out, I'm in my room trying to concentrate on my essay...which is near impossible, because last night countless people lost their lives for no reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Paris feels like a warzone.

Last night, we were all gathered in the kitchen until the early hours checking the news and calling friends. I couldn't believe that whilst we were sitting there, free and out of danger, there was a hostage situation taking place just across town, and people were fighting for their lives.
Although the events that were unfolding were horrific, it was heartwarming to hear that all Taxis were made free so that people could get home, and that people were opening up their apartments to strangers who were stranded. It gave me hope that human kindness was prevailing through the chaos and fear.

After spending a while debating whether it was safe or not, I popped to the corner shop one street away, on the usually busy Boulevard du Montparnasse. Today, however, there was almost no traffic and the few people I did see were glancing around them warily. Usually I would take a leisurely stroll listening to music; this time, I walked quickly, on high alert.

I think it will take a while for me, and for countless others, to feel safe in Paris again, or anywhere for that matter. The very vibe of the city is different, I feel. People are terrified, and for that reason all day I've been hearing rumours of a loud bang here, sirens heard there, etc. Fortunately it was just paranoia and nothing serious, but it just shows how deeply this has affected everyone.

It's also important to pray for the other places in the world where attacks have taken place this week, such as Beirut. The tragedy has not been very widely reported in Western media, and this saddens me. This week I'm going to take time to think and pray for everyone affected, and try and donate to a charity. That way I'll at least feel as if I'm doing something to help, however little.

Thank you to everyone that called, texted or messaged to ask if I was okay. I love you all. I'm thinking and praying for the victims families; it's difficult to feel fortunate to be safe when you know that so many others aren't.

K x

The Montparnasse Tower, Halloween in Paris, and discovering monuments by accident

Another week in Paris, and as usual my fridge is empty (well, the measly half-shelf that belongs to me in the fridge, that is), I have a pile of washing to do, and my library books are sitting on my desk giving me accusing looks as they will soon be overdue. Paris or no Paris, the student clichés are still the same!

Last week I did something I've been meaning to do for a long time; I went up the Montparnasse Tower! A bit of background info before I start gushing about the view; from what I've heard, Parisians consider this tower to be the Eiffel Tower's ugly stepsister. There's a joke that the view from the top is the best, because you see everything except the tower itself! 

However, I actually quite like it. It may not be pretty, but it serves as a friendly marker to me of where my beloved quartier is, and at night it lights up, which the child in me loves. And of course, the view is beautiful! 

I would recommend going up at night. When the city is lit up (bar the Montparnasse cemetery, which is a little creepy), you honestly feel as if you are on top of the world. I have no idea as to how many miles you can see, but as the region is quite flat, everything is spread out at your feet. Plus, the Eiffel Tower sparkles for 5 minutes on the hour, every hour until midnight I believe. Go, and take a friend so you can marvel together about how impossibly beautiful everything is. (My friend Josh was very patient with all my ramblings about how amazing the view was!) 

Another great experience was the super thick hot chocolate from one of the cafés in the Place Des Vosges (I can't remember the name, but it's to your left when you're facing Victor Hugo's house). 

Unfortunately I have yet to find the perfect coffee shop, but the Café Guynemer (rue Guyenmer, by the Jardin du Luxembourg) came pretty close! I went there for a catch up with a girl I knew at college and her friend. They were only in Paris for a couple of days so it was great to meet with them, and explore Montmartre a bit together. It was nice to hear stories about home, but also a little surreal, as it feels as if light years have passed since I was living at home and going to college.

Whoever said that French people don't do Halloween certainly hasn't been in Paris at this time of year! I rushed out to buy a Venetian mask the day of a Halloween party, and ended up queuing for 15 minutes outside a small shop that was stuffed full of people trying to find costumes and decorations. Once inside, claustrophobic was not the word. I'm surprised I even managed to get to the till.

I then had to pick up some ingredients for dinner with my friend, which was also a struggle because out of the three shops I went to, none had bacon! Has bacon not caught on over here, or am I just looking in the wrong places?! Armed with a Venetian mask, a leek and bacon fillets (the only thing I could find), I got on the métro and received some very odd looks. The evening then went as follows; my first experience of Lizzie's legendary bacon, leeks and pasta, then onto a bar on rue Oberkampf to meet up with tipsy British students covered in fake blood. All in all, a pretty good night!

On Saturday, I was faced with a choice; do research for my next essay, or grab a vélib and go on a bike ride all around Paris. Of course, I chose the latter, and spent a couple of hours discovering boulevards and squares that I never knew existed! The 2nd/3rd arrondissement is great for this because there's lots of little side streets to explore. I cycled along in no particular direction, thinking about how I should visit the Porte St Denis, when I turned a corner and there it was in front of me! It's actually pretty impressive, and in an area that isn't necessarily on the tourist radar (please correct me if I'm wrong!), so I would definitely recommend a visit, accompanied by a ramble around the quartier.

Although it's Reading Week this week, I'm staying put in Paris with babysitting duties and a large pile of work to get through.

Bisous, 

K x 

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 

A few improptu Uni and language learning reflexions

In terms of this semester, we're on Week 4 and the pressure is starting to set in. Today I got set the second essay so far which determines 15% of my grade for the history module at the end of the year. This unwelcome news accompanied the realisation that I have not only come to Paris to aimlessly wander around old streets and read second hand books in parks, but to actually do some work and get a degree.

The thing about going to university in France, even if my uni is part of the University of London, is that everything is in French. This may seem blindingly obvious, but it doesn't stop hour long lectures on French politics being a little overwhelming at times. Of course, I love learning and taking notes in French, but it means that I sometimes come home very tired and wondering if my overloaded brain will ever function normally again.

Today, after a particularly frustrating exchange with a man in a post office and a class in which I made some stupid grammatical errors, I found myself thinking, 'I don't feel as if I've made any progress in French at all since I got here. I spoke better French in class at college than these past few days!' I sat grumpily on the métro contemplating life, and when I got home I went to the kitchen and made myself some comforting pasta. That's when a lovely girl from the room next to mine came in to make some tea, and we had a catch up. After our conversation, I felt so much better, having spoken in French with a friendly face. It restored my confidence; I am capable of speaking this language!

It made me realise that the standard I had for myself in college is impossible to maintain here. In language lessons I wanted to write and speak perfectly with no mistakes, and if I did make silly errors, I would get frustrated with myself. (Any of my friends from my classes will know what I'm talking about). That was the only way I knew how to learn a language; learn everything as quickly as possible and make as few mistakes as possible. Of course, that is unachievable when you are using the language to communicate on a daily basis, especially when it comes to post offices, banking, and over complicated things that require specific vocabulary.

Now, my main aim is to just chat with people and get my meaning across. Of course, I would prefer to make minimal mistakes, but whenever I get the gender of a word wrong or forget the subjunctive, the girls I live with just correct me with a smile. It's hard to be annoyed at yourself when nobody else sees it as a big deal!

So, a lesson I have learned not only from today but from my time here so far is this; it is okay to make mistakes. This may seem obvious to a lot of language learners, and I agree that to a certain point it is, but when you have a perfectionist mindset it is difficult to accept anything less that the standard you have set for yourself. From now on I've resolved to be a lot more laid back, and to have more realistic expectations of myself.

Well, this has turned into a semi-philosophical Tuesday. I'll post more soon about my Parisian adventures! 

K x 

First month in Paris

Today I hired my first vélib (Paris' take on the Boris Bike), booked tickets for the opera at Versailles, and the heating has gone on in my room, which I have now occupied for a month. Life is sweet.

Pretty much everything that has happened this week demonstrates that I have a long way to go when it comes to fitting into Parisian life! I'm staring to notice a pattern when it comes to embarrassing moments; they always seem to come along just as I'm feeling like I've cracked this whole adult, earning a living, studying abroad thing. 

For example, take the time I went to the swimming pool at 7am (which we shall hereby refer to as the Incident of the Overly-Complicated Locker). 

The Piscine Armand Massard is near to me, and in a well-meaning but misguided attempt to get fit I decided buy a 3 month subscription and go in the mornings before Uni, as it opens at 7am. Those of you who know me are probably staring incredulously at your computer screens, and rightly so, as me getting up early to do sport is about as likely as France restoring its monarchy (casual reference to this week's lectures *applauds self*).  But nevertheless, that is what I did. 

I got to the pool, changed and put my stuff in a locker. They have a different system over here; you need a PIN code to access your locker instead of a key. Great, I thought, and went off to have a nice refreshing swim. 45 minutes later I came back and entered the PIN, and tried to open the locker...and could not.

Picture this; a frantic English girl wearing only a bikini and swimming hat (yup, they're compulsory here) running through a sports centre full of fully clothed dignified French people in order to find someone at the desk to help.

As if this wasn't mortifying enough , when a very patient security guard came my aid, it turns out that my locker was actually open the whole time. I hadn't shut it properly in the first place, which was why the PIN wasn't working. All that embarassment for nothing!

Yes, I will carry on swimming, despite running through centre in nothing but a bikini. There's nothing that a glass of wine with my friend from the 5th floor won't cure, and that includes mortifying pool incidents!

Around Paris I have seen some funny sights, one of the oddest being a goat and a couple of sheep grazing on the Esplanade Jacques Chaban-Delmas behind the Dome des Invalides (I have yet to find an explanation). Another is an elderly lady wheeling her cat down the rue de Rennes in a special cat suitcase (I feel like this is my future self).

I also had an odd moment on the Métro. I saw a man looking very confused, in a very Anglophone way (I can't explain this. You have to see it to believe it). I helped him find his stop and he gave me a pancake. Odd, yet strangely heartwarming.

On Sunday, I came home from a lovely visit to Versailles to find a protest happening practically outside my window. Literally thousands of people were marching along the Boulevard du Montparnasse against reforms to the school system. When I saw on a placard that languages were under fire, I felt like joining the march myself! Just as I was contemplating whether it was socially acceptable to join a protest halfway through and alone, a woman shouted through a megaphone, 'At 3pm, we lie down in silence!' I kid you not; thousands of people just dropped to the floor. It was almost eerie; of course the police had stopped the traffic, but seeing people lying down as far as the eye could see on one of Paris' busiest Boulevards for a cause they believed in gave me goosebumps. 

And then, I went home and ate a baguette. What an anticlimax. 

These past few weeks have been super busy and the next few seem to be similar- apart from the fact it's the school holidays next week, so I have time off from babysitting, which I shall use appropriately (ahem, most likely reading second hand novels in the Jardin de Luxembourg and having a few glasses of cheap wine with the girls on my floor). 

I must go off to bed now like the sensible adult I am, because I've planned another 7am swim tomorrow! I must be mad. 

K x 

Opening ramblings

I've been living in Paris for three weeks today, and I feel like the time is finally right to start my blog. I'm not yet sure what my actual plan for this blog is- I'm thinking maybe (hopefully interesting) snippets of my life, funny happenings and maybe some pictures, if it so takes my fancy. 

I feel like I'm starting to find my place in this city. I realised this today when I jumped off the Métro at La Défense to go to pick up the kids I babysit from school.

 Brandishing my Navigo pass, I found my place in the stream of commuters and allowed myself to be carried along by the current until I reached Sortie A; at which point I seamlessly broke away from the crowd and hurried up the steps in the direction of Courbevoie. Wearing my trench coat and clutching my current Métro reading book (Elle s'appelait Sarah by Tatiana de Rosnay- an amazing read but maybe a little too emotional for public transport!), I felt like I fitted right in with the hoardes of other commuters. And I loved it. 

I feel at home too when I'm walking down the Boulevard du Montparnasse in the crisp autumn mornings on my way to Uni. The leaves haven't yet fallen, but there is a general feeling of approaching winter as everyone is wrapped up in their cashmere scarves against the biting wind. There's an odd charm to everything in the 14th in the mornings; sometimes I find myself smiling at nothing in particular as I pass by the green kiosques selling the daily papers and the trench-coat-clad mothers ushering their children to l'école maternelle. I shake my head and roll my eyes along with all the other Parisians at drivers who try to jump the lights, and sometimes stop to pick up a warm pain aux raisins from the street vendor at the Place du 18 juin 1940. 

It's very strange to think that I've only been here for three weeks. Sometimes when I come back from work late at night on Line 6, which takes me past the Eiffel Tower all lit up, I can't help but look up from my book and pinch myself. The other day, my friend and I were crossing the Esplanade des Invalides on the way to the library. We had to pause on a traffic island, and suddenly the wind picked up and blew our hair around our faces. Laughing, we looked around and there was the Eiffel Tower peeping over the rooftops, the Dome des Invalides to our left and the Pont Alexandre 3ème to our right. My friend shouted above the roar of the traffic, 'Oh my God, is this where we actually live?!' It's hard to describe what I felt, and I'm not going to try. But whenever living here is difficult (and I'm under no illusions that sooner or later that may happen), I will remember that moment. 

I could ramble on for a long while about this, but alas it is late and my roommate is already asleep. 

More soon x