. . .Fouras, France, but the wine was from Bordeaux. Apparently the wine we had Friday night is one of the five top wines in France, at least in some category (origin, Bordeaux 2000). We celebrated Petit E.’s birthday Friday night by taking a roadtrip to Fouras, France. My host family and some extended family went to their summer/vacation house there. The house is metres away from the Atlantic ocean, and less than two hours southwest of Poitiers.
My socks even matched. (I was sitting on a wall, not in the sand).
We also hosted a surprise party for one of my host-sisters, B., on Saturday. We took a 30-minute drive to La Rochelle, France, so that I could “sightsee”; but really it allowed her friends to come to Fouras without her noticing (since it is a very small town).
There were about twenty-five of us, since her friends met us at Fouras. It was a very late night at the clubhouse, but evidently my level of French was good enough to keep up with what people were saying which, given the amount of cigarettes in peoples’ mouths and alcohol in hand, is pretty decent. Speaking of which, after my intensive week of French, I have a certificate stating that I am a C1 level in French (C2 is the highest proficiency level)!
This is close to where we were:
Anyways, after the surprise party all the friends slept over at the clubhouse, and then early this morning came to the beach house, with all of their stuff. If you can imagine, there is a pool, and then one shower at the house for guests. I’m pretty sure most people just hopped into the pool. The house was full of people for the whole day, and people slowly left when their trains were scheduled to go back home, etc. I went to the market with one of the aunts once I woke up, and when I came back, I found one of the girls sleeping in the room that I shared with my host sisters. Eventually everyone woke up or got out of the pool, and we all ate leftovers of pork, chips, radishes, salmon, and tiramisu for lunch. They are good cooks over here! Finally, we all had to “faire la bise” (i.e., kissing on the cheek instead of saying “bye”). I’ve kissed more people in France in the span of a week than–well, I don’t have a metaphor for that, but I’m sure one of you will think of one.
^^The last of the suitcases.
Aside from this weekend’s news, I start class at the university tomorrow. Père even knows one of my professors, because he is friends with him. I can’t even skip class now. Between Père and Mère, they know everyone in town. Just my luck.