cinquante-trois: je reviens a Bordeaux.
Okay so the title is a bit misleading because I’ve been back in Bordeaux since New Year’s Eve, which was a delightfully cheerful affair as I returned to my abode in France alone, armed with a bottle of wine and a meal deal from KFC to find that no one was around in the foyer where I live. Thank goodness for Skype is all I’ll say.
The first couple of weeks back in Bordeaux were unfortunately not fantastique. It was hard to settle back into things especially as I had enjoyed being home so much. And especially because I found myself with fewer companions here than I had had before, tant pis. Luckily I do have some super friends here, without whom I would, I think it’s safe to say, be perdue.
School is much the same as before. I have some great students, some terrible students, and some incredibly entertaining students. Such as the boy who decided that everyone was ‘beautiful’, including Patrick Jane from the Mentalist, Wayne Rooney, David Beckham, but thankfully I managed to convince him that David Cameron is definitely not beautiful. There are many more examples of humorous students but I can’t exactly remember the details, another reason why I should blog more. Especially as I have recently discovered that this blog is useful. Pourquoi?
Because I have just updated my CV and I found lots of interesting things that I have done which I have recounted on this thing. I have sent off my CV to numerous translation companies which are slightly more local to chez moi in England so that I won’t feel like I’m wasting my summer once my year abroad is over. I am seriously considering a career in translation and I’m hoping with all my heart that it isn’t anywhere nearly as boring as I have heard through the grapevine. So here’s hoping. If so, a masters in translation may be on the cards. On verra.
I’ll leave you with yet another light-hearted tale from my experiences on the tramway of Bordeaux. Yesterday I was sat on the tram, minding my own business, when a man carrying a small plastic cage and a big bag of hay asked if he could sit opposite me. I said of course (in French, of course) and he seemed very happy about this. Then he opened the cage ever so slightly and a black furry head popped out. It was a rabbit. Which he proceeded to stroke for the entire journey.
I keep thinking that I’ve seen and heard it all in Bordeaux. Now I know that this will never be the case.
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