Life in Angers has been a little crazy lately with “la grève” (the strike) that’s been going on for about a week now. If you don’t know, it’s for “la retraite” (retirement). Currently French people can retire at 60, but President Sarkozy is pushing a pension plan that would change the age to 62.
Strike parade through streets of Angers
There have already been several one-day strikes in the country since I’ve been here, but none have been very influential on my daily life. The current strike is much more chaotic. In Angers, there’s trash all over the streets because it hasn’t been picked up and most of the fuel stations are closed because there’s a blockade of the country’s largest oil port near Marseille. The gas crisis is causing the most trouble for the French people, because they’ve had to stop using their cars. This inhibits teachers and students to drive in from the country for school and for students to return to their parent’s house for the weekend (which is very common). One of my teachers said she had to start walking to school a few days ago, but at least she lives within walking distance. Madame is a teacher at the largest private high school in Angers and said they might have to close the school. The public schools are already on strike and don’t have any classes. My French little sister Aubery goes to the largest public school in Angers and hasn’t had class for a week, but has been sitting outside the school with her classmates playing music, chanting, making tiny bonfires, etc. They blocked the entrance with trash cans. The other night at dinner, Aubery said she was tired and had to get some sleep because “she had the revolution tomorrow”. Priceless.
Angers street full o' trash
ewwww!
Aubery's high school (Lycée David d'Angers)
Other photo of the blockade at Aubery's high school
As for the French people’s opinion of the situation, they are obviously not happy with the plan for the pension change. Madame and Jean talked about it the other night at dinner, and generally think that a lot of people die between the age of 60 and 62 and that it’s tragic to have to work your whole life. The French have a very different attitude toward work than in the US; a job is not a life, and a person makes time for things that are more important. One small example of this is lunch: everyday Madame and Jean eat lunch together at home, and it’s a prepared meal with several courses. This is common, especially amongst the older generation. They take time to rest in the middle of the day and enjoy a meal. They have this same attitude toward the necessity of retirement and the 2-year change makes a big difference to them.
Other news: classes are in full-swing. It’s less work than in the US, but very draining to spend all of my time studying French, even though that’s the reason I came here. And it’s completely different studying French in France than studying French in the US. I’m actually retaining it! Whereas I don’t think I retained a lot of French during my 8+ years studying in the US…
Today in my grammar class, we watched a video clip and then did a worksheet based on the video—something that could happen in a classroom in the US. However, the video clip was from an old movie where a girl walks to her pool in the backyard, takes off her clothes, and swims naked—only to discover a scuba diver underwater with a camera. It was a normal comedy film, but I was a little shocked to see nudity so casually displayed, and in the classroom! I always hear French people (i.e. Jean) say that America is very “puritan”…this was probably a good example of that and the cultural differences between our two countries.
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Last week, I finished the September intensive program and spent five days in the Pays Basque! The Basque Country is a region in southern France that extends into Spain, where the Basque people have been living since at least the 6th century and have created their own language, gastronomy, and culture. The Basque language (Euskara) is completely unique and the origins are unknown, but it existed only in oral form until the 16th century. All the transportation and information signs are in French and Basque. The landscape is beautiful as it encompasses the foothills of the Pyrenees and the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. Basque nationalist pride is strong and there are some who would like to become an autonomous nation, notably the ETA terrorist group on the Spanish side. The French portion is peaceful, but I did see “Liberty for the Basque Country” signs, as well as many flags. I started researching the region and dreaming about the sea and mountains before I even arrived in France.
Saint Jean-de-Luz, the Rhune (mountain peak)
I was lucky to travel with Wenonah, who shared my view of hygiene during a trip (showers are not necessary every day, wearing the same exercise leggings three days in a row is okay), my passion for adventures (camping, going on somewhat grueling hikes in the mountains), and finally an enthusiasm for the superior French gastronomy.
After three trains to get to Biarritz, we spent the night in a hostel and headed early in the morning for Saint Jean-de-Luz, a port city of approximately 19,450 people, just south of Biarritz. We took a bus to a campsite just at the edge of town, unloaded our bags, and spent about two hours hiking a seaside trail back to the Centre Ville. The path was along the edge of a cliff and set the theme of spectacular views for the rest of the trip.
Atlantic Ocean, view from the path
Herbe de Pampas, protects against wind and erosion, from Argentina
Beach at Saint Jean-de-Luz, the Rhune in background
During the afternoon we passed a couple hours at the not-too-crowded beach; the weather was perfect—very sunny, but not too hot. After the beach, we explored the numerous adorable little boutiques. We also made plans to hike the “Rhune” the next day, a symbolic mountain of the Basque region because it is half in Spain and half in France, and also the real start of the chain of Pyrenees.
Sunset on the beach
It rained all night, but we stayed dry in our little tent and woke up early the next morning to start our adventure. We walked to town (about 30 minutes) and took a bus to the Col de Saint Ignace at the base of the mountain. There is a little train that goes to the top that has been running since 1924, but we hiked the trail which took about 3 hours. The hike was more difficult than I expected, even though the sign said “Medium-Difficult”, because it was very steep. However, we hiked through herds of cows, sheep, goats, and horses and enjoyed stunning views of the sea, mountains, and little Basque houses spotting the hills in the distance. There were no other people on the trail; cowbells were the only other sound.
magnifique!
Me and W
herds, summit with antenna
sheep, view of Saint Jean-de-Luz in background
At the summit, Wenonah and I relished a picnic lunch while perched on the lookout point and gazing into Spain. AMAZING! The weather was also perfect—a little overcast and cool, but not cold or rainy. The descent wasn’t too bad; it took about two hours, but my knees hurt a bit because it was so steep. There were no dull moments between Wenonah and I amusing ourselves and the spectacular scenery. At the bottom, we hiked down a little road and snacked while admiring the Basque farm houses from a closer point of view.
Summit! above the clouds, Spain in the background
playing with the animals on the descent
The evening was spent wandering around St. Jean-de-Luz, walking on the beach, and dining on seafood.
Port at night, the Rhune
Port at night
I’m not usually a seafood fan; but when one is in restaurants where all the “fruits de mer” comes from about 100 yards away, it’s necessary to go a little out of one’s comfort zone and eat like the locals. Wenonah and I feasted each night at little cafés/restaurants; and I tasted chipirons (calamari), moules (muscles), crevettes (shrimp), morue, and merlue (both fish). My favorite dish was Piquillos Farcis à la Morue (red peppers stuffed with a mixture of the fish and a sauce). Because St. Jean-de-Luz is only several kilometers away from Spain and the Basque Country crosses the border, there is a huge Spanish influence on the cuisine. I also got to try Paëlla (saffron-seasoned rice with seafood, chicken, and chorizo), and a couple Spanish beers and wines. Out of the whole trip, the best food was definitely in St. Jean-de-Luz. Another specialty of the region is fromage de brebis (cheese made from sheep’s milk) with confiture de cerises noires (black cherry jelly). The combination is excellent and both products are made in the region (of course). I’ve realized on this trip that the United States is missing the tradition and pride of eating foods from the region that is vital in France. The country is very agricultural (unlike the popular image of Paris), and the people eat locally not to be chic and eco-friendly, but because it is their custom. When one lives and travels in France, it is crucial to indulge in the local specialties to really experience the region.
Piquillos Farcis à la Morue
Paëlla
We left for Saint Jean-Pied-de-Port Friday morning. To get to this little mountain town of population 1400, we took a one-car train that wound through the mountains next to a white-water stream. St. Jean-Pied-de-Port reminded me of a village in a Disney princess movie, because it was so charming with old buildings, cobblestone streets, ramparts around the Centre Ville, and little river running through the middle.
Feeling confident after conquering the Rhune the day before, we decided to go on another hike in the afternoon. The city is a base for a Christian pilgrimage through Spain and part of France called the trail of Saint Jacques de Compostelle. We hike part of the trail that went around the valley and then up a mountain through farms. It took about 2 ½ hours to get to the top and wasn’t as steep as the Rhune, except for the last stretch before the summit. All along the way, we were once again surrounded by the astounding beauty of the region, and at the top could see St. Jean-Pied-de-Port in the distance. After the hike, we saw a sign for the farm at our destination that said 7 km, so I guess that makes our little afternoon adventure about 14 km, or 8.7 miles.
along the trail
more cows!
faux-pilgrims, Saint Jean-Pied-de-Port in the background
I love the mountains!
That night we were a little fatigued and loopy and laughed way too much while eating dinner in a garden behind a restaurant/cidery. We camped again for the night, at a site just inside the old ramparts. The next morning we spent relaxing, eating breakfast, drinking coffee at a little café, and savoring the fresh mountain air before going back to Biarritz in the afternoon.
evening
Arriving in Biarritz, we were a little depressed after our few days in Paradise with hardly any people, absolutely no Americans (!), and no standards for cleanliness or appearance. But to remedy our blues, we spent the afternoon/evening at the beach. Apparently Biarritz is the surfing capital of Europe because there was a surfing competition and the beach was packed with people. These were the definitely the biggest waves I have ever seen and Wenonah and I were a little scared to go in the water at first. But we had already pinky promised, so we waded through the water, barely able to stand in the tide. We made it to a spot a little ways out where it was easier to stand and one could survey the incoming waves; we were the only girls among many men. The waves tossed us around and threw us under water, but we caught onto the idea of diving under the waves just before they hit. Perhaps this game was a little dangerous, but we were laughing so hard and enjoying the adrenaline rush. We also had a better view of the surfers. So we stayed out there for about an hour and a half. It was awesome! I would love to spend a couple weeks in Biarritz learning how to surf, and then continue into the Pyrenees to do more hiking/camping/backpacking …hmmm…honeymoon/future dream vacation to return to Pays Basque…
WAVES!
I cannot describe the trip as less that perfect because I felt so comfortable in the towns and countryside, had such a good time with Wenonah. I enjoyed talking to the French people of the region, and was in love with the sea, farms, and mountains. It was a unique opportunity to see a real part of France not visited by many foreign tourists, but very popular among the French in Summer. The “country” was so isolated and pure in culture and tradition. It was definitely a very “Betsy” vacation; I was in Paradise!
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