Last night, as usual, I was lying in bed with the window open, reading my book and listening to music from my laptop. Between tracks I noticed music coming from outside, so I turned my music off to listen. The band was hard to hear, but the sax was so loud it was like it was playing a few metres away, the sound bouncing off the cliffs and hills around, causing it to have an echo, a very dreamy, acidy sound... then the tune ended, and I could tell there was a huge croud. I remembered someone saying that Sonny Rollins was going to be in town, but I didn't know when. I listened for a few more tunes, I was so tired but I felt like I didn't want to miss anything, then after a really upbeat tune, a booming voice said "merci beaucoup" a few times in a bad french accent, then introduced the band, and said "I'm Sonny Rollins, goodnight!" I was a bit dissapointed I wasn't there, but it was quite nice being alone in my breezy shoebox, being serenaded through the open window.

This morning, out this same window, 4 floors up, I saw a grasshopper on a leaf. Crazy grasshopper.

Today, a very nice Spanish girl said to me in a very matter-of-fact kind of way that there are a lot of Asians here. I then said, yes, there is a lot of classical music in Asian countries, therefore they like to come to summer schools... and I also said that there are a lot in Australia. She looked quite amazed, then said in a hushed voice 'but you're not...' and pulled her eye into a slit. HA

Yesterday I played in class. It wasn't as scary as I had imagined, he even suggested I play in the concert, I won't, but it was nice of him to say that.
To get to the school, you have to walk up a really big mountain, and seeing as though I didn't have to play, and you can practice in your bedroom, I decided to just stay in. And stay in I did. I didn't talk to a soul, or leave the confines of my little cell until 6:30. It was like being in gaol, but pleasant gaol, where you have your laptop (sans internet, but with itunes) your violin and a crappy adventure novel that is really boring but somehow keeps you reading. I even had the diet of stale bread and water (and lollies and melted magnum (when I bought the box of 4 I didn't expect that my fridge didn't have a freezer in it))
Tomorrow I'm playing again. I don't know if other people will be in the class watching, there are only 7 of us. One girl was really good and one older lady was pretty bad... she was like a 12 year old trapped inside the body of an old icelandic lady, and she just couldn't seem to pay attention or listen to Boris, he was getting so frustrating, it was funny and awkward.

Theres a boy sitting near me, at first I thought he was a bit cute, then I heard him say he was a singer.

I went to spain for the day, but the weather was awful. I was surprised at my ability to use the few words of spanish I know. I've realised that my awkwardness of speaking french comes from caring too much, and feeling like I should be able to speak it well.

I'm going to miss Rodolphe, he's fun and nice, and he has no friends! But he said that's OK, he doesn't need friends... why do I always go for the loners? He packed me a lunch bag with a sandwich, cherry tomatos, a peach, chocolate cake and some sour lollies. He calls lollies 'sweeties' because he got mixed up when I explained about lollies/candy/sweets. I didn't correct him.

Today someone asked me, after talking for a little bit (OK, they were one word answers) if I were Belgique and someone even said 'oh finally, a French person!' (after I said one word)

I sat next to a poodle on the train. It was well behaved, it barked a few times when people unexpectedly walked past, but that's to be expected, right?

I'm in Nice now. My room is tiny, the food is awful, but I like it anyway. I've had some successful smiles, but so far no friends. Tomorrow I will make many.

The south is so much better than Paris. Not just the sunshine, but the people are aren't so uptight, EVERYONE wants to chat, and they have funny accents.

I'm quite nervous about tomorrow, I just hope there are some really crap violinists.

In two weeks I have a week off, the first half is as yet unplanned, the second half I am going back to the west to go to the wedding of Jan (older son of the family I stayed with) and Chi. There will be 180 peopleish. I will sleep in a field, or a barn, or something equally exciting. Perhaps I will meet a cute boy.

A hornet is building a nest behind a post card of an infant crying, that blocks a hole that looks like it was punched by a mini fist. It buzzes incessantly, and I'm scared that thousands are going to fly out and maul me to death.

A busy few days. Of course, there was Bastille day, we went to a small villiage and payed 10 where is the euro button? to get in, walk up a steep hill and watch poor quality street performers, but it was nice none the less. I still can't get over how non european the french look, maybe its just the deep south french... Fat, bald, fair haired, fashion unconscious...

Today we went to the river, and built an island. I really need to get my camera connected. We built a bridge to the island, and lit a fire on it. Tomorrow we'll go back to see if it survived the night.

Friday is a day trip to spain, and the day I SHOULD get an email to find out if I got into the UTAS orchestra summer school.

I got an ridiculous email, saying that seeing as I was the recipient of a grant, could I email them to say how it helped me, with a photo of me with my instrument, and lots of other crap... It was 100 where is the dollar sign? for 20 hours rehearsal plus travel and practice time. HA, no, fuck you. I don't want this to be a rant blog, but sometime you have to let off some steam!

Saturday morning is my last day in the Bayonne/Biarritz area, I spend 2 days in Narbonne (and will see Harry Potter, I have a feeling it won't be shown in VO (vergion originale) french dub only.

Monday I'm off to Nice. I'm really scared. They're all going to be a lot better than me, and I will be so embarressed and disheartened that I'll never play again.

I appologise for this rant, if anyones reading. It won't happen again.

I broke the sink. Stupid euro plugs... metal things that you have to pull a lever to make it plug-up... i just pushed it in... the plug got stuck in the plugged position.

Tonight we've been invited to a bbq. I don't think I've mentioned this, but I have quit my vegetarian ways while I'm here to be a good guest... now I'm regretting that a bit... tonights menu is DUCK HEART! COEUR DU CANARRRRRD!!! I'll let you (I think Jac, you're the only one who reads this) know how it goes.

Rodolphe the cute dutch/french boy who lives here will be sharing my caravan for my final week here. I watch too many shitty romantic teen flicks.

hard boil

Every time I sit down at this computer (or eat dinner with the family, or am near them in a confined space) I fear I may get lung cancer. Chain smokers. All of them. Whilst preparing the salad, the 2cm long ash dangles precariously above what is meant to cleanse our pallet at the end of the meal.

Which reminds me. This morning I put two eggs on to boil for breakfast and went to start a bit of practice. I got sidetracked. When I went back into the house, there was a grey haze and an awful stench... water had evaporated, eggs cracked open, revealing something pretty horrific, if food can be described as horrific.

Which reminds me. Last night, whilst chez Kiki (the local) Rodolphe, some french bogans and I shared a few beers and a few Anis (French national drink that resembles cloudy apple juice, you add water, it tastes like aniseed). We were sitting around, recovering from our slog of a bike ride to get there, when in comes some drunks, come to get supplies. They stay a while, chat to Kiki and the other riffraff then they drive off. Over a kitten. We watched it flip around and contort itself in what at first we thought was playfulness (we didn't actually see the running over part, obviously) but it seemed a little violent, and to go on for too long... plus I've been watching a bit of House lately (or Dr House as Rodolphe calls it) because it's the only dvds they have... I recognise a seizure pretty good. Then it slowed down. Kiki went and picked it up by its feet and carried it away. Needless to say, the ambiance was ruined. There was a really mangey cat next to me, and I felt horrible for thinking "it should have been you, old boy, it should have been you."

Mongoloid

I haven't really done anything since the Great Eel Situation of the other day, except for suspect my host family of housing some sort of mutant. It's a small house. Living room and kitchen are separated by a door to the bedroom/bathroom area of the rest of the house. I know the toilet and bathroom well enough. Without much detective work on my behalf, I had worked out which was the master bedroom and the spare room (where Rodolphe, the recent uni graduate is now residing for the fist time in his life.) Then there was the mysterious door. I knew there were only two berdooms, the nights that Jan was here, he shared the bed with his brother. A few times when I knew everyone was out, I'd try opening the door a bit, but it was quite stiff. Then yesterday, finally alone again, I put some elbow grease into it, only opening it slightly enough to reveal a little table with a tea cup and a water glass on it, and a snowy television screen. I pulled it shut, heart racing, KNOWING in my heart that there was some sort of mongoloid child in there. I went outside to try looking into the window, and found there was only the living room window and the master bedroom. This poor child has no view to the outside world! I tried pushing the whole experience out of my mind, however, somehow, later that afternoon, after the family had come home from a hard days work, I found myself pushing the door handle down again, I didn't know what was coming over me, I was risking the trust of this loving family, a great thing I have going here, no rent, my own caravan, use of a car... for something that was definately not my business. I couldn't stop myself though! The same scene was laid out for me, except for one thing... a movement caught my eye... Marie Lou, the lady of the house, walking past the window...
I realised that it was a second door to the living room. I'd left the tele on and my dishes on the table. I watch too many stupid horror movies.