Dubious hymns (and Nuns)

Monday morning blog post? Old habits die hard!
As a completely random piece of information, this is my mouse. He is called Charlie. His name is a recent discovery which only came out after dropping it. He lost an ear in the process and before I knew it "there, there Charlie" had escaped my lips.
I'm settling in nicely to Bregenz, meaning I can now find my way around town, to and from the schools/other important places without use of a map. I have yet to make a full exploration of the place though. Despite having a 3 day weekend, I had a few dates with my French YA (year abroad) essay. I shut myself away and worked away like a busy little bee. It's now in the proofing stages. Someone kindly pointed out that I was missing some vital information  (I don't need to mention who's in power when discussing Quebecois nationalism in a political context, right??) so that needs fixing. The deadline is a week away so I have plenty of time.
Politics is seemingly topic of the month. I've been asked to prepare classes on the British system. Not my strongest subject and I doubt "The LibDems are sell outs" will cut it really.
Yesterday was quite a pleasant day. I only had a little bit of work to do you see. I went to church in the morning. It was much as I expected until they got the little children up to the front. They did a little activity and then started to sing a song. True, it was about God loving every child in every country, but it was really rather racist. You can read the lyrics for yourself here. That aside it was very nice. A young woman came up to me after the service and chatted away, introduced me to people, showed me where the tea and coffee is and invited me to a house-group. Should be a good way to meet people and practise my German. She was very nice and told everyone that I speak "super Deutsch." Yay!
I've also contacted 2 people also doing teaching assistantships in the area and hopefully will be meeting up with them in the near future.
I've just realised the title sounds like the nuns are a bit dubious. They aren't. They seem like very lovely women. It's how I'd imagine having a few grandma's around is. They cluck over me a little, always asking how I am. I spotted one knitting in the office. Nothing like Sister Act I'm afraid.
I've also chatted to a few other people here in the internat. Just to put it out there, are all Moldovans called Viktor? I'm spotting a pattern.
Anyway, my To-Do list for today is quite long and I have a class later...

househunting, back to school and slippers

I made it. I survived the train journey with all my luggage. A rather handsome business man thought I was French. Probably more to do with my bag having French on it that my fitting any French stereotypes.

By the time I reached the last train station I just wanted to hop in a taxi and collapse at the hotel, except the taxi driver refused to drive me as the hotel was "within walking distance". At that point my idea of walking distance had been to the taxi.

2 days passed quite happily - popping out to estate agents, the bakery just out. That was fine. I was getting somewhere with my hunt for a home. When the weekend strolled by it was like the whole world turned off. No-one replied to anything. I then had to change hotels to somewhere cheaper which meant dragging all my belongings across town. In the process I swapped internet for breakfast. My hunt came to a complete standstill which drove me absolutely insane. I got all worked up thinking I was going to run out of money and still have nowhere to live. It was a pretty rubbish weekend really.

Yesterday was my first day in school. After asking if I had any accommodation and hearing my deflated 'no', some of the teachers clucked and flustered and within and hour had arranged a room at the internat (the catholic place). Fine, I didn't seem to be getting anywhere on my own, except that after that being arranged, I'm getting replies to all my enquiries about flat shares I'd seen advertised. Sod's law??

Also contributing to my stress levels had been the lack of communication from my school. That's not true, I had a number of e-mails, the lack of important information i.e. what time to turn up on my first day. I simply strolled in when I felt like it. It didn't seem to matter either. I was given a form to fill out before being introduced to a few English teachers one of whom then dragged me off to her class. Straight in then.

Pretty much all I've done so far has been to introduce myself and try to get to know students. It's gone a bit like this:

1st class - "I come from Manchester"

                "ooh The Beatles"

2nd class - "Miss, do you like roses?"

                  *teacher says that this student always asks such intelligent questions*

                  "No I don't, only to pretty girls!"

3rd class - "What sports do you do?"

                 "I was on my uni's cheerleading squad last year" *short silence before every boy puts up his hand*

                 "Miss, do you have a boyfriend?"

The revelation that I do not ski and out of fear of breaking a bone don't fancy my chances have been met with  a surprised silence. Although one student was offered up as a ski instructor and Austrian milk was suggested to strengthen my bones.  Also, I apparently resemble Katy Perry. This can go with the comparison that I dance like her too. She best watch out!

Overall my first impression of this school has been quite good, even if the students aren't allowed to wear shoes and so wander around in socks or slippers. Hopefully, the weekend was just an opening hiccup.

Computer glitches

I didn't set foot on a plane today. I did make it airside though.

There was a computer glitch in Scotland which resulted in the temporary closure of British airspace. (Don't quote me on that). This caused a few delays as you might imagine. It was me that ended up explaining this to a bunch of very confused passengers queueing up by customer services, not anyone working the desk. I'm so helpful. Then again, I was keeping one lady busy rearranging my flights.
In the end, it was highly doubtful that I would make my connection in London. So instead of chancing it and ending up stranded in Heathrow or arriving really late into Zurich, unable to get to Bregenz today, I'm just going tomorrow.

It's been over 3 years since I worked there but I still recognised some of the staff wandering around. Kinda nice actually.

departure time

Within the next half an hour I'll be setting off for the airport. None of my bags are zipped up yet. I probably am finished packing but my room looks far too full of stuff. Therefore I'm sat on the floor looking around trying to spy anything I might need to take.
Like I just spotted some ink cartridges.
For some strange reason this time packing seems much harder than any other time, which I don't get.
Oooh passport, now where is that?
I also tried being all fancy and getting my boarding pass on my phone, but this doesn't seem to want to work for me. Standard check-in at the airport it is then. So old-hat.
I have sorted out a hotel for a few days. I was slightly amused that despite not being the hotel's name, I received an e-mail thanking me for my booking at the Sabres hotel. (The Sabres being my uni's american football team also). Brought a smile to my face.
Time to pack up my laptop...

An Old Kit Bag

With less than a week to go, my 'To Do' is not getting any smaller. You'd think I'd be used to this by now but I probably get more and more unorganised.
Potentially the lack of arranged accomodation is making me feel more unorganised and unprepared than I actually am.The options?

1. an internat. Mostly likely a catholic boarding school by the sounds of it. (suggested by the teachers in Bregenz)
2. a hotel. Likely to end up broke.
3. become a hobo (a favourite option amongst my 'caring' friends)

It's not provoking too much excitement in me. I've enjoyed tramping around the UK going a-visiting far too much. So to those who offered me beds, sofas and floors - cheers, you're all wonderful.
There was the opportunity to spend my last weekend in Scotland looking at houses. Considering my current disorganised state, I found this to be unwise.
As a result my last weekend will be home alone. Anyone care to join me to watch the rugby?

no Aix puns included

One megabus, a trek across London which included getting caught in a thunderstorm, a shuttlebus, a plane and one final bus ride was all it took to get to Aix-en-Provence. No early mornings at least. I may have spent an entire day getting there but I was very excited to greet my friend and future housemate, Louise.
I'm not entirely sure where the time went during my visit. Proof of the old adage that time flies when you're having fun I suppose :)
It was nice to be in a francophone country again, hearing French (from time to time!). It made me realise just how many quebecisms I've learnt. One French girl mistook me for a Quebecoise, probably due to choice vocab rather than having picked up the accent. At least I hope I haven't picked up the accent which is rather nasel and not so pretty. I found a delightful post card which reminded me so much of the French boys in Sherbrooke that I had to get it. Getting an address to send it to was an entirely different matter. I hope they find it as entertaining as I did!
After moving Louise out of her room and across to the faculté de théologie (maybe?!), waving off other Erasmus students and a quick mooch into town, we went to a student or youth church event on the Saturday. We may have been a fair bit older than the others but I rather enjoyed the activities and free food, even if they didn't listen to me while trying to piece together a story. Ah well. I may have picked up an injury too. Getting on clearly.
We went to church twice on the Sunday. Almost like I was making up for lost time! The french one reminded me very much of the 90's, what with the overhead projectors and multiple acoustic guitars backing the singers. We went for food with a group of people after the anglophone one in the afternoon. We sat outside and it got a bit nippy I have to say. On the way back, I was distracted by the smell of crepes so I had to indulge. We shared a nutella and coconut one. Yummy. The French certainly do crepes well.

On Monday we went for a walk, I have no idea where we went, up a hill somewhere. It was nice though. We took a very unplanned route back which involved a stop at a patisserie, another thing the french do well! That evening was a collective meal at the fak. Possibly followed by a game of cluedo or another game about a hungry giant. I chose to be the citrouille just because I learnt this apparently almost redundant word. Playing these games could have happened any evening and I think on multiple.

see, stripy

Tuesday was my last day. I had a late flight however so we headed to Marseille for a bit of tourism. I had to take my stuff with me. Although not heavy, it was a pain to cart my bag around all day. Louise was very nice and we took turns in carrying it though. We took in enough touristy sights. It seems that in Marseille they like stripy buildings, or perhaps just stripy churches. We had ice-cream but we never made it onto the carousel. I had my heart set on it as well. I didn't, but it would have been nice. It played such wonderfully French music! In the end we had to head back to the station and go our separate ways.
Before long I was back in Blighty, making my speedy way to a dreadful hostel before dashing off to visit my sister for a few days.