The rise of female Non-Fiction: The Parisian... as told by, well, a Parisian

"The secret to making a man know you need him: Of course you can open a bottle of wine by yourself. But let him do it. That's equality, too."

Quit your yearning, and live like the French

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of 5 year old temper tantrums in supermarkets here in France. ‘Why is all the milk on the dry goods shelf? Why isn’t it fresh? What on Earth am I going to put in my tea?!’ and amongst other things; ‘WHAT IS THIS BREAD AND WHY IS IT SWEET!?’

What are you grateful for?

It probably won't come as a surprise when I say that being almost 300 miles from home means that every once in a while you start to think about how much you appreciate its comforts and the people that you left behind. Everything, as a memory, becomes idyllic and nostalgic and it's hard to even remember what you could have possibly ever moaned about. Woe is life. Even the inherently evil teacher who gave you a D on your homework in year 9 becomes an angel in disguise; 'Oh, well I'm sure she was just looking out for my best interests! What a nice lady...'

Baby, it's cold outside.

As winter descends upon the South of France, that being the very end of November might I add, the inevitability of Christmas also looms. Although I generally associate Christmas markets with Germany (rightly so, I am told) I must say that France seems to hold a damn pretty Marché Noël too. England, take note. You're slacking.

Why you should learn a new language! (And the difficulties you might face, but will conquer, along the way...)

❝You can never understand one language until you understand at least two.❞

Problem #2456 of being a linguist: Arriving in a country and instantly wishing that you spoke the language. Then ensues the feeling of annoyance and guilt that you don't speak the language. Then deciding 'Actually, when I get home, I'm going to learn this damn language'. 

Part 1: Oh, Barcelona...

Have you ever been somewhere and just immediately realised this was the place for you? I've felt it in London a fair few times, but my god, I'm sorry London but I'm cheating on you with Barcelona. It hasn't been long, but we've kind of fallen in love. 

Almost at the mid-mark...

Something that I learnt in my first two years of University, a mid-first year, mid-essay and mid-'what the hell am I doing here?' type epiphany if you like, was that if you want something done, then you have to do it for yourself. In life no one is going to spoon feed you information or knowledge until the point where you think, ah! that's it... In fact, I've come to realise that if you want something then you have to just get off your behind and do it. You're in it for yourself I'm afraid! The reason behind my brutal revelation, my friends, is because I am well and truly stuck in limbo, and as much as I would like for a handsome bearded man with a face like Ben Dalhaus to come and pull me out and buy me a mojito, I just have this feeling it's not going to happen any time soon.

The hidden treasures of Provence

It's officially mid October, gone mid October even, and it is 26 degrees. Is this real life?

My inner pale white girl is crying. Oh, the woes of living in the South of France. No- I shouldn't complain, in fact I CAN'T complain because where I would probably be sat in my room right now in Costa-del-Soton (there's even now a page on Facebook called 'Is it raining in Southampton?') moping over books with 400 pages which I'd probably only realistically read 2 of, I have been exploring beautiful French towns, and hiking alongside stunning views in order to spend my Saturday lazing on rocks in what can only be described as paradise. (See first image, and weep.)

Little old me in little old Aix

I've been here for 6 weeks on Friday... how, please tell me, has this happened!?! I can't say that it hasn't felt like I've been here for a century already, but I just cannot believe that It's been a month and a half.
The most bizarre thing perhaps is that I've already booked my flight home for Christmas, and my countdown app tells me that it's exactly 73 days until I return. Which in turn means I'll be half way through my time in Aix, which is NOT OKAY.

Am I French yet?

After moving my blog over to a different domain, and the utter nightmare that ensues whenever I try to do anything remotely technical, I am finally ready to get this blog on the road and keep you all informed about the absolute saga which is to be my year abroad. I think this may be a long one....

So, first things first- I'm a 3rd year English Literature student at Southampton. In my first year, maybe just over half way through, I decided that I would regret it for the rest of my life (dramatic by nature) if I gave up studying French. After many a stressful meeting with the French department (who I can guarantee think I am an absolute nutjob now), I decided to not change my degree to joint honors but instead to just take optional modules in French. And well, the rest is history...