So after four months, I’m finally back home.
I’ve been on this trip for almost two months now. I feel like I’ve gotten used to the trains, the lack of water fountains, and the lack of free ketchup. I can deal with my limited knowledge of French and German pretty well. But this weekend, I went somewhere that added a new twist to my trip: a country that spoke a language I didn’t know at all.
It was on a whim, really. Kaiser Chiefs? Foo Fighters? The Sounds? Arcade Fire? Sure! Three days out in Middle of Nowhere (a.k.a. Scheeßel), Germany with eight of my friends at the Hurricane Festival? Okay!
…what’s that? We needed a tent? And sleeping bags? And toiletries? Flashlights? And this checklist says to bring a stove? Uh-oh.
We just got into Muenster after leaving Dijon, France for good, and the first thing I noticed was that there were bicyclists EVERYWHERE. Looking out of the bus, I was pretty sure that at least 80% of the people on the sidewalks were biking instead of walking. It was weird to see. I moved into my new dorm (which, by the way, includes its own bathroom and kitchen!), and I had time to rest before I left the next morning for Berlin.
I got off the bus at Interlaken and immediately took in the sights…or whatever wasn’t being covered by the clouds. I was staying at Balmer’s, a well-known hostel to backpackers around the world. It looked like a nice place to stay compared to the other hostels, which weren’t really located as centrally as Balmer’s was. I was placed in a room apart from everyone else in my group, which I was completely fine with, considering I booked my own hostel in Nice the weekend before. I didn’t really get to get to talk to my hostelmates much this time around, but that was fine. I had a lot of stuff on my schedule for Saturday.
After a long first week of classes (it felt longer due to the lack of internet in the dorms – what am I supposed to do at night?), it was finally time for our first weekend trip – the French Riviera.
Dijon is the capital of Burgundy, a state/province/region in France. Guess what Burgundy is famous for. If you guessed burgundy, you’re right. Now guess what Dijon is famous for. Mustard. Good job! So there’s a lot of both here, right?
Where to start?
I guess I should start with the just-about-sleepless red eye flight from DC to London. After getting three or four hours sleep in the two days leading up to the flight, I was hoping to combat jet lag by sleeping on the plane right when we took off. No dice. You know why? On-demand TV screens built into every seat. With more than 30 movies, 20 TV shows, and lots of music albums, all available with the touch of a finger. I HAD to watch Tron: Legacy again. And the airline food kept me awake for a while, too. Vegetarian lasagna, strawberry cheesecake, a Coke, and a loaf of bread all appeared and disappeared in front of me in a matter of minutes. The seats were pretty nice, though, but the sleep just wasn’t happening, even with the cabin lights dimmed low.
My next chance to get sleep (because the flight from London to Paris was only 45 minutes) was on the five-hour bus ride from Paris to Dijon, the place where I’m staying right now. Luckily for me, I had no leg room, and thus, no sleep. There was lots of talking on the bus, too, so that didn’t help much, either. By the time we reached our first rest stop on the bus ride, I had already learned a few things about France:
1) Fiats, Peugeots, and Citroens rule the highways here. Ford is barely to be seen, aside from the Fiesta, and Chevy, Dodge, Chrysler, and Toyota are virtually non-existent (especially the first two, which I think may not even be available here in France).
2) Cars are a lot less sleek-looking here. The French prefer taller, somewhat more ‘boxier’ car designs.
3) Security guards at the airport carry legit guns around the concourse. Or military guys. I’m not sure what they are exactly. All I know is that they carry guns in plain sight. It was somewhat disconcerting at first because I’ve only seen officers with concealed pistols in America.
5) There is a LOT of flat countryside between Paris and Dijon. It’s like Kansas, but with grass and flowers.
And then when we reached the rest stop, I was greeted with great news in the form of a bag of Crispy M&Ms.
Crispy M&Ms! They discontinued those in the USA years ago!
Too bad they cost four euros for a bag. That is too much. But I need to have some while I’m here in Europe.
On the second half of the drive, the atmosphere on the bus suddenly transformed to loud and uncomfortable to quiet…and still uncomfortable. I think people were closing their eyes in the hopes of sleeping, but probably didn’t get lucky. At least, that’s what happened to me.
We finally reached Dijon at 6 PM local time, which was noon back home, and we were ready to either go out or go straight to bed. I fell into the latter group. You would too after a sleepless red eye flight and bus ride. We were given our keys and told where to go. It’s a nice enough room for me. They already had sheets and a pillow for us here, which was nice. We also get our own rooms, which is another big plus. I’ve also brought Easy Mac, Girl Scout cookies, and trail mix with me. The French don’t know what they’re missing out on.
