Le ski alpin - what did I get myself into??

Hello, everybody! I've gotten behind on blog posting again, though at least I feel good about keeping it up for this long and doing so regularly - for anyone out there who might read this. Life in Montpellier is going on much as usual, really. The weather is wonderfully sunny and in the low 70's during the day, with a fairly consistent nice breeze going on. It's officially beach weather, and concentrating on work can get mildly difficult...it's good that the weather is so nice, though, because I'm attempting to work my way out of a small funk - not something that merits explaining here, but sometimes life just rolls like that, doesn't it? Overall, it has been a pleasant week though. I succeeded in making chocolate truffles once again (this time with cognac, though I messed up on some of the ganache- tragedy!) and invited some ladies over to my humble abode for a dinner/dessert shindig. On the menu, the never-fails-to-please pasta carbonara; sliced baguette toasted in garlic, olive oil, and dipped in the oil and pepper; a most delicious salad, and of course the truffles for dessert! Yum yum...it seems that this meal was more Italian than "French," but that leaves more room to expand upon the next dinner party, doesn't it?

Beyond that, classes are classes (physiologie has an insane amount of information to absorb), stayed out all night last Saturday, profiting from French friends/acquaintances with cars, and I'm starting back up on the real running schedule. La vie se déroule.

Now, moving on to more exciting updates, I learned to ski!!! Yes, two weekends ago our exchange program offered us the option of a weekend du ski in a collaboration with the other group in Chambéry, a small city located in a valley nestled between the Alps. I was a little hesitant as I didn't know any of the participants very well, but then I realized how silly that was after tramping all over the place and meeting new folks - people are essentially the same no matter where they're from, I've always maintained, and this weekend ended up being SO SO fun to boot.

Let me start by saying that despite being from Canada and having gone back to visit at least a dozen times in my life - I have never skied before. Ever. I looked like a total joke in my borrowed ski pants that I actually had to use a ponytail holder to tighten or have them around my ankles the entire time, but I was extremely grateful for that because wet jeans on the slope would not have gone well!

The infamous massive ski pants. Also, my mini-skis (for the real beginners!)

As it turns out, apparently I must be a proper Canadian after all because I'm actually somewhat good at this skiing thing. Not a clue where it came from, since I even needed help putting on my ski boots, but once I got those skis on I watched one of the more experienced guys run down the first little hill of about 100 feet to get to the chair lifts to have the idea; I said "what the heck"; and down I went - I didn't even fall! And I stopped - properly! Words could not express my bewilderment and surprise at finding out it was way easier than I'd always heard it would be.

Well, that's not entirely true...the two other true beginners were what I'd imagine to be a more typical beginner, flopping around and falling on their behinds (don't worry, my time for that came) while attempting to get down that hill. I'd have to say that they're more brave than I am, because although we broke off soon after, they stuck with it and improved immensely. And when you're soaking wet and would move faster walking with skis in hand than with them on your feet, continuing until you get it is some kinda testament to your determination!

With some strange logic that I don't quite understand, in mounting the chair lift you had to start at a blue slope (light intermediate?) to get to the green slopes below (beginner), so after a successful mount and dismount on the lift in which it was snowing and cloudy enough to not be able to see more than one chair ahead, I joined the ladies who had done this a few times before, said my prayers and a good "here goes nothing," and actually did it! (with a few expletives thrown in for good taste when it got frightening) I tended to force myself into an amusing but not entirely graceless fall on the behind, skis going every which way, when I got a little out of control, rather than risk an awful face plant or broken ski, both of which happened to others in the group. I soon figured out that white-out conditions and wet, hard snow are pretty much the worst for learning the ropes, so I'm surprised I managed somewhat competently...how would it have been on a clear day, I wonder? Honestly, my more colorful phrases shouted into the wind and to the others came when we're looking at what might be a slope, might be a dead drop, but you honestly can't tell how steep it is or what you're getting into because it's seriously that white out there!

Me, skiing in nothing but a cardigan. Because I am hard core.

Stayed on the blue slopes all day with wonderful patient friends, and two of us even took the highest peak as our very last run of the day! Amusingly enough I did the most falling on that last run, when my legs were too fatigued to respond as I wanted them to. So, with my scarf a complete icicle and my little body quite worn out, we ended the day ready to rejoin the group dinner - a fully paid Savoyard (of the Savoie region) dinner at a wonderful restaurant, including fondue, tartiflette (which I'd had in Lyon while couch surfing), and...say it ain't so....raclette!!! Yeah, so I was happy as a clam, ate myself silly, and topped it off with a tarte aux myrtilles. Didn't gain a pound either, and woke up the next day in our budget but nice hotel with arms of steel and feeling slightly achy. On a side note, our shower was awesome - the shower head lit up in red, green, purple, and blue when you change the water temperature, and I was so so tempted to turn off the main lights and have a one person disco dance party - but alas, have to be respectful of others, so only in my dreams!

Raclette. So gooooood.

Enjoying my fondue, refusing to take off my toque because ski hair = not pretty.

Tensions run high when the last piece of bread's on the line.

The next part of this is going to be super condensed, as I'm quite tired here myself. The next day we went to Bourges du Lac for a picnic and to soak up the sun around this lovely lovely lake, then later on in the day went for a walk around the town. Relaxing way to end the weekend after an action-packed day o' ski.

Ok, ok, I'll say it...Roll Tide. (for those uninformed, my home university's mascot is the elephant)

Final thoughts? Glad I decided to give this a shot, and thanks to the generosity of our program this trip was sooooo economical. I feel like I got away with highway robbery and got to discover a hidden talent/penchant for a potentially dangerous winter sport. Came back home sore but in one piece: until next time, don't be afraid to try something new!!

Corsica, the condensed edition

Alright, alright...life is busy and I keep watching myself getting farther and farther behind on updating the blog! So welcome to my last couple days in Corsica, the Reader's Digest (condensed) version. I'll stick to the highlights here, so while the full picture of my vacation probably won't be achieved, let me start by making one plug:

GO TO CORSICA. Go on. Do it. Paris is cool and all, but dude - why don't more people go to this place? I mean, I gave a teaser photo of one of the beaches in Ajaccio a couple weeks back, but my last day or two there I was seriously blinded by the blue. That, and even in the very beginning of March, I was lucky enough to get a couple days of sunshine so bright and that perfect temperature that makes you want to stop, sit down, press the "pause" button on life, and stay there forever. It was that perfect.

My cheapo camera took this picture. Currently my computer background.

Even better, there was a wonderful woman staying at the pension at the same time I was, and we got along great and just hung out together. As it turns out, she's a flight attendant and has decided, of all the places she's been, to make Ajaccio her home. She even invited me back if I'd like to come visit before going home! Despite the slightly isolated feeling you'd get of living on an island, I can absolutely see what she means by coming here. People have lives here, evidently: but it all tends to move just a little bit more slowly. Everyone seems more relaxed, and when the sun is out, it feels like even the residents are on vacation. Mme Morelli probably said it best, in that, in Corsica, "la vie s'écoule," which means that life just flows, much in the fashion that a river does (the verb is actually used for flowing water). My new friend and I, despite her having papers to arrange for her eventual move, had some good times together. We had paninis on the beach, she showed me her favorite bakery and some of the most excellent Corsican patisseries, we took a long walk in the sun and discuss life, and even managed a free tasting of oursins. What are oursins, you ask?

That's right. Sea urchins!

So we were walking along late in the morning, chatting up a storm and eating our cheese-filled beignet things,

I ate way too much this trip. Also, much tastier than oursins.

when we spotted a man in front of a restaurant making his way through several giant buckets of the spiny critters. He'd cut them in half, take the good half and put it on his platter, and chuck the rest. We curiously stopped to watch and inquire, started chatting, and he soon told us to wait while he fetched a spoon for us to try. Us, being polite and adventuresome folks, were up for it! So, we scooped our way through the goopy red/orange stuff, coming to the conclusion that it tasted like the sea. Or maybe Corsican caviar. (I wouldn't know, I've historically avoided munching on fish eggs). The people sitting in the bar watched us through the window in amusement, the manager came out and joined the chat, and we had a good little diversion before we thanked the gentlemand and went on our way. General consensus? Not unbearable, but we preferred the pastries!

Earlier in the vacation, I dragged my behind away from the coast for a day and hopped a train...the trains in Corsica are amusing, to say the least. They look like they haven't changed much in the past 30 years or so, and despite the jokes for how shaky and slow they are (and there are only three or for that cross the island the entire day!), they give you an amazing way to see the island. They don't always follow the roads, and they'll take you right up into the mountains (info tidbit: Corsica is the most mountainous Mediterranean island!) and back down again as you head for one end of the island or another. My destination? Corte, the former capital of the island and a place very sure of its Corsican identity.

The imposing and precariously perched citadelle. And a little virgin mary bottom right, for perspective.

I visited the museum of Corsica, learning a lot about the place and the language, and also learned just how dead this place is in the off season! (The main town wasn't like that - speaking of the historic city, here). Again, there were times I got that "last person on earth" feeling, just me and this old place on perched on a cliff, surrounded by mountains on all sides. It rained on and off throughout the day and my feet got pleasantly wet, but I did enjoy a nice conversation with an older woman coming back from grocery shopping who caught me affectionately petting her insistent cat. I enjoyed her accent, asked her about life here, and she in turn asked about mine. And then the two of us went our separate ways, of course, to continue our days. Thanks to the rain and cloudiness, the day had a very "grey" feel to it, but it wasn't unpleasant. It seemed to evoke thoughtfulness, and being the only goofball wandering around town in her umbrella and floating through the museum, having this acquaintance made for a nice break in the day! A couple pretty pictures, here:

View taken from the best lookout point in the city.

Funny thing about that lookout, actually: it looks like this,

and was kind of off limits due to the guys re-paving the miniature street below it. However, my spidey sense and "cultural awareness" (or something like that) told me that sometime around noon these guys would disappear for their obligatory two-hour lunch break, leaving me free to snoop and get my view. Needless to say, pretty spectacular. Overall, day well spent, and I'm glad I got to have almost an entire museum to myself as well. Corsican culture, and the language, is very interesting and rich. I only wish I could have spent more time there! Maybe I'll just have to go back...

So, to conclude this incomplete summary of Marisa's Week O' Fun, a vacation toute seule didn't turn out to be as sad as I imagined (quite the contrary!). I went from Carnaval to Mario Kart, the mainland to an island, beach to mountain, and sun to snow.

Yes, snow!! Gare de Vizzavona, located in the mountains between Corte and Ajaccio.

Sure, maybe I didn't get to experience a foreign country or go insanely far from where I now call home, but I feel like it was worthwhile all the same - and something a little different than the ordinary study abroad student-type vacation (though I am envious of people plane hopping and jet setting, for sure!). I came home with a clear head, an unexpected tan (in early March? woah!), legs of steel, and some Corsican delights - chestnut tree honey, (miel de chataigner), saucisson de sanglier (wild boar sausage), Corsican ham, and, among other things like leftover pastry, some tomme - mind-blowingly delicious, yet mild sheep's cheese that seriously made me wish I had bought an entire kilo. Seriously, this cheese is so heavenly that it made me want to hop off the boat and go straight back. Just for the cheese. In the name of all things holy, oh god it was good. Plus, the woman at the saturday market from whom I bought the cheese and saucisson and some ham as well was so friendly, I'd be a loyal customer any day. Just more Corsican hospitality, I s'pose. So, to wrap things up, for anybody who reads this, thanks for coming along on my travel trip. Hope you enjoyed it!

Dinner on the ferry back to Marseille (with the legendary cheese). Until next time, hope your vie s'écoule!

So, to continue where I left off, I woke up from my nap well-rested and ready to conquer the day! I was reminded to be back sometime around 8 pm for dinner, and besides that I was as free as a speck of dust on the wind. So, stopped off for some guiding material at the Office de Tourisme and explored this cool place, camera in hand.

The first thing you should know - or you will know, whether you care to or not! - is that Ajaccio is the birthplace of the most famous short man in history, Napoleon Bonaparte! His house is now a museum, the largest street in town is named for him, and statues of this ambitious chap are scattered all over. The Ajaccians are proud- very proud! - to claim him.

Napoleon! I'm sure he would not appreciate that seagull on his head.

 

Napoleon!

La grotte de Napoleon!

After some time strolling around, getting the feel of the city, I took my wanderings outside the center of town and made my way to the photo you see above. This is the grotte de Napoleon (grotte being cave, obviously, though it was more so a precariously cool arrangement of rocks into a hole), supposedly where Lil' Napoleon sat as a child to contemplate his future greatness. Around the time I got there it started to drizzle, so I went in, hopped on the rock you see to the left, and did likewise. I don't think I'll be leading an empire any time soon, though maybe some of his coolness will rub off on me...only time will tell. I did have a nice conversation with a man walking his dog; he seemed casually amused to spot a random foreigner sitting in this little cave for no reason. We just chatted for 15 or so minutes about things I no longer remember, and his dog was happy to see me, then he wished me a happy vacation and went on his way. I was glad to have these kinds of interactions throughout the trip; kept any loneliness at bay, and I always ended up meeting the nicest folks. Corsicans are wonderful!

After I'd had enough of contemplating, I wandered around this park then eventually made my way from the Place d'Austerlitz to the Bois des Anglais - a remnant of the British colony that was once there. Pretty much self-explanatory, it's one of many massive forests in the area. But this is also the starting point for the Chemin des crêtes, which knowing that crête means "crest" in English, gives you the general idea. It's a 5-hour long trek winding through the coastal ridges just outside of Ajaccio, curling around the island until you reach the famous Iles Sanguinaires at the end. I wasn't planning on doing in initially - after all, a supposed 5 hour hike through the coastal cliffs and me not in proper hiking clothes? But then again, was I really in a hurry to do something else? Then comes the point when you realize that on a solo vacation, you do exactly whatever it is that you want to do - who else is there to ask for the go-ahead, for permission? So, fortunate enough to have a full water bottle and a couple petits pains left over from an earlier picnic lunch, away I went!

Uh, which way?

Bye bye Ajaccio...

It was really fun turning around and seeing my progress!

First look at the islands!

Let me say in advance - nothing, and I mean nothing, that I say here can possibly describe how stunning this hike was. Every so often I'd look back along the ridges I'd passed, seeing Ajaccio get smaller and smaller and eventually disappear behind as the chemin curled around one ridge, then another, then another...took a writing/rest break somewhere halfway through, and the sun was out in full force though the rest of the island appeared cloudy and overcast. There was honestly nobody else on the trail (later found out that there was an easy variant and a hard one - and I took the more difficult), and completely quiet all around save the sounds of the wind, the ocean far below, and the occasional wildlife noise and bee buzzing by. Utterly peaceful, and I didn't feel the least bit lonely despite being completely alone.

Nothing but views like this the entire way around :)

Where I stopped for snacktime!

Eventually, I continued and made it around to the Sanguinaires, but had to turn back to make it home before sunset. I took the trip back at a much faster clip, and I realized on the final descent near the end (in total, about 6 hours on the trail) just how fatiguing hiking is without even realizing it. I have good stamina and all, but when your legs start to shake attempting to balance down an incline that was so easy to ascend a few hours ago, you're reminded that your legs will tire whether you want them to or not!

Last picture of the day.

So, I made it back to the pension (and just about collapsed on my bed) in time for a shower and dinner with Mme Morelli, an elderly friend of hers, and another couple in town on business, and soaked up some good ol' Corsican wisdom over local wine, charcuterie, and an excellent soup followed by a flan that made me want to die. Then we ended it all with some stinky cheese and fruit. I was all set to flop into bed, until Mme Morelli requested (and you don't say no to Mme Morelli) that I and another lady accompany her home. This isn't to say that Ajaccio is unsafe - quite the contrary, it's an extremely friendly town, even at night! - it's just that's what you do. You walk, you chat, and eventually crawl into bed completely pooped and tune into some French game shows...which I'm starting to get quite addicted to...but that's all for today. Until next time!

So behind! Spring break, continued

Eep! So I went away this weekend (skiing! In the Alps! More on that later), and still want to recount the rest of my spring break - because it was really too awesome not to share...especially l'île de la beauté, the one and only Corsica itself!

So the day after Eze I spent one more night in Nice, then got up early the next morning to take the train - my ferry departed that evening from Marseille (a city I know and looove), but I decided to stop off for the day in Antibes instead - one of the better known seaside towns on the Côte d'Azur, located between Nice and Cannes. (If you start west from Montpellier, you'll find Marseille-Cannes-Antibes-Nice-Monaco-Italy, as a general guideline). I didn't have much desire to go to Cannes, and judging from what I saw of the town during an hour-long layover after departing Antibes, I chose wisely! The day was stunningly bright, warm, and I spent most of the day lounging on the shore of the rocky beaches like a bum,

Hi. I'm a bum.

Yeah, I could chill here awhile.

then wandering around the promenade des arts in the shadow of the Fort Carré, which dates back to the 16th century and is a nice stern backdrop against the relaxed feel of the town.

Feelin' small.

I also checked out the old town, which definitely has its own unique feel. I've done my fair share of traveling through Mediterranean France by now, and I definitely enjoy discovering how each ville/village I visit has its own unique flavor to it, even within such close proximity. Antibes didn't disappoint!

Peeking out over the city walls. Keeping a weather eye out.

A lazy weekday afternoon. Nobody's in much of a hurry to go anywhere; neither am I

But alas, Marisa had a ferry to catch, so it was back on the TER (train express régional) - the cheapest train transport in France, as a heads up - to piggyback to Cannes, then Marseille. A little bit of train knowhow also saved me ten euro - fooled you again, SNCF, thinking you can take more money from me!

Moving on. Once in Marseille, showed up for my boat at 6 pm, an hour before debarkation at 7, as recommended. Bought myself some dinner at a grocery store beforehand and picnicked on deck in spite of the wind, watching the sky go dark.

Mm, nice view while enjoying my canned cassoulet with a plastic spoon.

After that I settled in for some light studying, Shutter Island playing in French on the ship's cinema (really hard to understand at times - yow, all the psychological stuff), and a humorously terrible night's sleep. I paid for a fauteil confort en salon, which is essentially a poorly reclining lounge chair in a room scattered with them spread out. I don`t sleep well sitting up, so yours truly started the trend of sleeping on the floor for the 10-hour ferry ride (others soon followed suit after much humorous shuffling). The boat was relatively empty due to it being the off season, so there was plenty of space. Didn't sleep too well, but at least I could curl up around my backpack and feel like a hobo for a night. Come to think of it, I felt like that a lot during this trip...but it was more amusing than anything. Plus, I took my one slight splurge of the trip and booked myself a pension de la famille (bed and breakfast) for my time in Ajaccio (biggest city in Corsica! And still quite small), where my ferry landed bright and early at 7 am the next day, wondering what on earth to do with myself at this godforsaken hour, still rubbing my eyes and munching on some fruit for breakfast until I could make my way to the nearest boulangerie/patisserie.

On the plus, I was greeted with a double rainbow that morning :)

My bed! Ooohh yes.

So, after some light wandering and munching on pastries, I found my leisurely way to the pension at around 9. The Pension de la Famille Morelli, run by Mme. Tina Morelli herself for the past 50 years or so, is truly a local institution - and also very reasonably priced for a place that is completely without youth hostels. Run out of her home smack dab in the middle of town, you're brought in as a welcome guest. I took the option of having my meals - breakfast and dinner - there, and had some most delicious Corsican food and the even more warm Corsican hospitality. The Pension also functions as a small restaurant, frequented by a cast of regulars as colorful and fun as Mme Morelli herself - who is like your sassy, but loving grandma who wants to know all about you and make sure everything's going alright while you're here. She enjoyed my bizarre mixed heritage (Armenian on my father's side, Canadian with Slovak roots on my mother's, but living in the U.S. and now in France blahblah...) and affectionally called me "la petite" as we all enjoyed our family-style dinners together. It was so nice having this to come home to every day, and even though I showed up a little before schedule (9 am, again) the room was ready and she welcomed me to plop down on the bed for a 40-minute nap before starting my first day in Ajaccio...

...which I'll recount to you soon. Until next time!

Le village d'Eze

I'm thoroughly glad that I didn't decide to have my first experience of Nice and the surrounding area be in the summer. The pace of this part of the journey (well, of the entire trip, to be honest) was soooo relaxed. 90% of the time the places I went to were so devoid of tourists (well, minus me of course!), leaving them quite peaceful - and yours truly in a similarly tranquil mood. It got hard for a bit since this part of the trip fell on a sad anniversary, and being completely alone for it was tough...particularly since it got a little rainy and glum during my day in Vence...and so it got a little lonely- but after a chat with some friends online at the hostel, I felt better and woke up the next morning determined to have myself an adventure...and on the plus side, no more rain!

So, after a bit of research I found out about the village of Eze. And let me say - after exploring the less glitzy side of the Cote d'Azur and in the off-season, I can't say how much people are missing out by sticking solely to the popular destinations of Cannes (it's a town), Monaco (well, it has nice cars?), and the city of Nice itself. There really is so much more to see if you dig a bit! Located on the coast a 1-euro train ride from Nice, I ended up that morning at Eze-bord-de-mer. Not exactly where I needed to be; my objective was about 400 meters up - the ancient medieval haut-village. Horizontally, it's all located very close. Vertically, however...

Maps are fun! If you click the picture for a close view, you'll see where I arrived on the Basse Corniche. Note the squiggly green line going off and up to the right through those steep mountainy-looking designs.

It pretty much goes from beach to "hey, cliffs!" in 200 yards. Now, there are two ways to get yourself to the haut-village. One is by bus in which you leave the village heading back west toward Nice on the Basse Corniche, then pick up the Moyenne Corniche to go up on the main road (in yellow on the map). The other? Walk. Choice was obvious.

Following the footsteps of Nietzsche...how a lovely place like this could inspire writings on existentialism I don't quite get.

It was overall a very pleasant, deliciously steep leg-working-out 45 minutes up (yaharr- beat the sign by 15 minutes without realizing, and including stopping to take photos - score!). Again, a plus of coming during the off season, I had the trail all to myself, meeting only one other person along the way who was out for a jog. I'll go ahead and make the obligatory statement of photos really not serving this place any justice, but it was so lovely and lots of fun. If there's anything that puts me in a good mood, it's pushing myself physically, resulting inevitably in a most excellent night's sleep. I also benefited from partial cloud cover, giving perfect weather for a nice quick hike.

 

A series of butt-kicking stairs, much steeper than they look - but hey, stairs nonetheless!

A little rest for the weary at the end of the trail, with more of that ocean view you enjoy all the way up!

There it is! Whoo hoo! Victory is mine.

As you can see, this entire village is basically perched on top of and carved into a cliff, under the ruins of a 12th-century castle at the village's highest point. It's apparently a much more popular tourist destination when droves of people come around during the summer, but during this time of year it was essentially deserted - and I do not exaggerate here. There were times when I felt like I was sneaking around a movie set, this place was that pristine, historical, and quiet. I can see why this place hasn't developed, even if it has hosted such famous people as Walt Disney and an actor or two - the village wasn't hooked up to running water until the 1950's (!!). You can definitely tell that things here are pretty much the same as they've always been.

The streets (if you can call them that) don't get much wider than this.

I find it cute that this one, lonely bench in a tiny square surrounded by houses qualifies as a place. (In French, a place is the equivalent of a 'square' I feel. And usually much more hoppin.'

I wandered the town for a while, exploring the local landmarks, then found my way to the church. Spent a good half hour in there reflecting (did a lot of that this trip, actually - very rejuvenating) to some lovely organ music in the background. Only one other person in the entire church, and every so often somebody would wander in for photos then back out again.

Eventually, I found my way to the jardins exotiques - and there is nothing to describe these gardens but exquisite. Located at the peak of the village and ending at the ruins of the aforementioned castle, they're filled with cacti and other local and foreign exotic plants. It also has absolutely stunning panoramic views. You can see the coastline laid out before you, and there's even a helpful panoramic map at the top that points out what is what (for example, you can easily identify Nice by its airport, and the

Statues like this are scattered all over the gardens.

Each woman has a name and little poem about her.

Panoramic map. How helpful! Can see as far as Cannes on a good day (looking west now)

Anais and Rose tucked in among the castle ruins.

Just a nice photo of a spiky tree and some cacti!

This is the espace de contemplation, coming complete with its own waterfall and lounge chairs overlooking the sea!

 I sat and chilled, of course, until some kids playing hide and seek with their parents came by and we chatted for a bit :) Met almost nobody here, too, but I enjoyed it that way! Every so often you can enjoy solitude, though I do say that I thrived on the conversations I had with strangers while on this trip...you need someone to talk to every now and again, or else you end up like Tom Hanks on Castaway and start talking to your volleyball (or that sort of idea, anyway).

So, these are some of the highlights of my day in Eze. I came back to Nice on the bus. Standing room only as it started to rain, but I was lucky enough to have a spot right up front where I could watch everything through the big front window as we passed through the pretty towns on our way back in. There was a parade going on in Nice when we got back, which we enjoyed from the dryness of our bus, haha. After all the walking for the day, headed to a grocery store and got some food to prepare dinner at the hostel.

Until next time, when I head back to Marseille via Antibes and then --- Corsica!