My first 12 of 12 from my new home in Toulon, France!
I woke up at 6 AM with a slug on my wall. Blargh.
My typically small French kitchen, which I share with my two roommates (one French, one American). My breakfast is on the table.
When I got to the bus stop at 7 AM, the sun still wasn’t up yet.
Here is a view of “Le Coudon,” a mountain so-named because it supposedly resembles an elbow (un coude) in La Garde, the town where I teach. It also lends its namesake to the high school I work at.
On Tuesdays I only work at the middle school. The teachers’ lounge was still pretty empty when I got there at 7:45, but within 15 minutes I was whisked away to my first class. I answered an interminable number of the students’ questions about me (for the umpteenth time – I’ve had to introduce myself to a dozen different classes already).
I only had three classes in total, but I was surprisingly fatigued by the time I left the school. Aside from the Q&A session, I also led an entire lesson in one class (which was challenging) and worked with small groups in another (which was frustrating), all with absolutely zero preparation. I’m hoping I’ll get some advance notice in the future. Nothing in France is well-organised. (Except the strikes.)
I walked back through downtown La Garde to run some errands, stopping at this War Memorial. Sadly, the Tricolore is missing its red band.
Tuesday is market day in La Garde. I didn’t buy anything, but I enjoyed browsing. All the food is locally grown.
I took the bus back to my neighbourhood in Toulon, La Serinette. It’s a pretty nice residential area, but it’s not particularly close to anything.
Here is my bedroom, or — as I prefer to call it — my breezeway. It’s small, but it gets the job done. On my laptop screen is the interesting new season of Weeds.
My roommate and I walked to the neighbourhood bakery for our daily baguette. He snapped this photo of me outside the shop. Ridiculously French.
My fairly simple supper consisted of salad and a poêlée campagnarde. Potatoes are good.