"Allez la France!"

Excavations continued this week with a little less rain finally, though we’ve still had to start and stop several times because of the weather. It has been quite cold too, which is surprising. I woke up this morning with a bit of a sore throat which has been going around the French-German team. I’m hoping it’s just because I went to bed late last night and not that I’ll actually have a cold for my last week of excavation…

The excavation itself has been a little under-whelming much to my surprise. Instead of moving many wheel-barrows full of dirt each day, I fill maybe twenty buckets of dirt in an entire day. I’ve been digging post-holes (the holes which held the framing for a house) for two weeks now and am bored to tears with it as are most of the others working at the site. These post-holes are cut into the natural soil, which is rock. I clean the dirt (mostly mud with the rain) and debris out of these to make them ready for photographing. 

It’s the same thing every day, though sometimes I get to “spice it up a bit” by cleaning a ditch instead. Some graves were found, but they are early medieval and only a few people have been excavating these. It has been quite difficult to go from being the person in charge/responsible for an area and all of its data collection and paperwork back to a person who is merely there to move dirt. I feel no connection to the site as I don’t know what is even going on here. I expressed these feelings to one of the supervisors who is responsible for all of the note-taking and it sounds like he may put me to work this week with more of the mental work, which would be a nice change. Here’s hoping. 

Despite the monotonous work, I am enjoying myself over all. We get coffee breaks and ice cream breaks which is nice. I can listen to my French lessons or music on my iPod if I like, which helps the day pass a little more quickly. If I’m actually working near others, we have entertaining conversations while we work. We were all so miserable on Friday that we wrote a song about being miserable in our ditch and it turned out quite good!

I’m not sure why, but we had the excavation party in the second week of excavations and also on a Thursday night. I haven’t been drinking much at all this excavation, probably because there is so much drinking going on around me all the time, but the others more than made up for it that night. We were divided into teams based on country (German, Austrian, Swiss, and the French legionaries which included me, some Germans and the actual French because there weren’t enough for a full team) and had to play archaeological games such as tossing a trowel into a bucket, a blindfolded girl pushing a wheel-barrow with a boy inside around a series of obstacles, and a pick-axe toss. I didn’t even want to participate, but got stuck doing the trowel toss – and no, I didn’t make any into the bucket.

After this was the wheel-barrow race. We needed three girls from each team to participate and a quick count revealed we only had two girls on the French team and I was one of them. I finally agreed to do it one minute before the race began and quickly threw on some sneakers which looked pretty funny with my dress. I got up to the wheel-barrow and got ready to start when they told me I had to be blindfolded. I was in the first race, so I didn’t know this was coming and all of the directions for the games were only given in German leaving the French team quite clueless about most of the rules. I managed to get around and back, though it’s a bit difficult when the person giving you directions speaks only French… I was thankfully finished with the games after that race. We were still short a girl and they wouldn’t let our other girl go twice, so we dressed up one of the French guys in a skirt and sweater and he played for us – we had no other options! We ended up tieing with the Austrians for third place, which was fine with us since we really didn’t care that much. We just cheered a lot and waved our baguettes, French flags and pirate flags while shouting ‘Allez la France!’ (Let’s go France!).

 Last Saturday a group of us went to Bibracte, an important archaeological site for Gallo-Roman history. We decided to change it up this week and go to the medieval city of Troyes. Before we left, The Hobbit, the French girl, our blonde German boy, and I went to the Douix and had a picnic breakfast with croissant, homemade jam, baguette, juice, and fruit. It was quite lovely and there were ducks there that day too, so they enjoyed some breakfast as well. We usually have the same breakfast every day in the cafeteria making this a nice change.

After this, we hopped into the Red Fox (a car) and were joined by our driver who looks like Sigmund Freud’s twin. We made our way through the hilly countryside to the city and spent the day walking around. As it is a medieval city, there are a lot of old buildings, many of which look like they might tip over if you leaned against them – they are very tilted and sagging, but still standing! We had some Lebanese food for lunch since there was a vegetarian with us and it seemed like the best option for all. We ate in a small park next to a fountain and then met up with another group which included TSP, another really nice German girl who I like and a few others. We visited the cathedral and after the museum which has some regional archaeological finds on display. The other group left after the museum, but our car walked around for a bit, visited some shops, and had some ice cream. It was a really perfect day from start to finish with a lot of laughing and joking, good music in the car, and perfect sunny weather. It certainly rates up there as one of my favorite days I hope to remember always. The rest of the night was pretty quiet and I got caught up in conversation with some friends until about 5AM. Overall, it was a very perfect day!

This morning was a bit rough because we were getting up early to go to another flea market. I was in the Red Fox again with ‘Freud’, TSP and the French girl. We were following the car that had the map and was supposed to know where this place was, but they somehow managed to get us lost in the woods and countryside making the drive about 45 minutes long. After we arrived, everyone walked around really quickly and wanted to leave about 15 minutes later. This happened last weekend to the French girl and I who are slow and like to look. We hide when we notice them waiting for us so that we can take a bit longer. This flea market was too small to hide for long and we reluctantly left shortly after. The drive home took only 15 minutes because we saw that it should have been a direct line between the cities – oh well.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. I napped for about 3 hours, ate dinner, and then went to visit a local cemetery at night. I am in the home-stretch so-to-speak, and finish my time at Vix this week. Hopefully it will be a more interesting week for me and the others! So long, for now!

“The [American] Cheese Stands Alone”

Well, excavations began on Monday and went better than I anticipated. “Why do I say that,” you might be asking. The weekend was a bit rough for me after I arrived back in Châtillon. There were a bunch of people at the school when I returned, none of whom I knew. I put my stuff away and came back to introduce myself to German speaking folk (we have Germans, Austrians, and Swiss all staying at the school, so I had no idea where this group was from). It was pretty awkward even though they all spoke English easily. Turns out they were from the Swiss team and there was even a Vikings fan among them. After a short while, I saw a German I met from the week before return to the school with his son. I went to say ‘hello’ and ended up chatting with them most of the night since I sort of knew them and they are on my team. After they decided to turn in for the night, I returned to the Swiss who were still up. I’ll chalk it up to the excessive drinking they were doing, but they weren’t as welcoming as before and some decided to go off on a long tangent about American politics (as if I have any control over that) as well as the general stupidity and ignorance of many Americans (and yes, some points were valid). There was one member of their team who did have enough honor and kindness to defend me and my country (he was actually born in another country but grew up in Switzerland and his family is quite fond of the States I learned). After a short time I grew tired of hearing about NASCAR and Chuck Norris, so I went to bed and tried not to think about it anymore.

I woke up the next morning feeling quite enraged and wronged. I decided I’d try to focus my attention on my database, which worked for a few hours, but by 3PM I was still feeling quite annoyed. I resolved that I would tell the Swiss guys who bashed my country and its people that if they want to continue to believe America is made up of only the stereotypes presented in movies and TV that they were as ignorant as the Americans they complain about. I also had to tell myself to not seek out drama before the excavation even began, especially with people who work on a different team. I decided if it was brought up again, I would use my thoroughly planned comeback at an appropriate time. 

Just before dinner, the two French students I learned about arrived. I asked the girl if she would mind speaking French with me because I needed the practice. She was very welcoming and so we ate dinner together and chatted (as best I could) in French. The French boy came by shortly after we started eating and joined us. He asked where we were from in French (since we were already speaking it) and after I said I was from the States, he talked only to the French girl. I felt ignored for most of dinner so I excused myself immediately after I finished and went to my room where I proceeded to cry myself to sleep. I felt rejected by my peers, alone both linguistically and nationally, and like a victim of a great injustice – I know nobody did anything outright hostel to me, but I think after being on your own in a foreign country for three weeks, some things begin to feel a bit bigger than what they are. I was feeling frustrated by my lack of ability to communicate and therefore, even more isolated from all of these Europeans. I tried to tell myself that the excavation would start tomorrow and I would either meet new people who would be forced to speak in English since it is the language used by the French and Germans on the team, or I would take my rage out on the dirt.

My rational side proved to be right and the next day was better. The French boy, I came to realize within a day, is just shy and as with most of the French, he knows English well, but it afraid to speak it in front of a native English speaker. I also was reacquainted with two people I met last year – a girl from Austria who is very cool and friendly and a guy, who I shall refer to as ‘TSP’ that I taught to speak Minnesotan. They both remembered me which made me feel welcome and the French duo also continued to talk to me more and more throughout the day in both languages. I also met two other German boys who I shall refer to as ‘The Hobbit’ with whom I discuss movies and television, and the other as ‘Germany’. [These nicknames are intended to provide them with some confidentiality and have been acquired through the course of the week from various jokes which I will not even begin to try to explain here]. These are the people I wake up with, eat with, work with, eat with, work with, eat with, and socialize with in the evenings, usually over drinks or German-style ping pong. 

The latter is a most ridiculous and entertaining way of playing ping pong in which there are usually about six players to begin with who hit a ball and then run counter-clockwise to the other side of the table to hit again when it is their turn. It goes quite fast and if you miss a ball you are out until the next round. I was coerced into playing after they said I should play for the honor of America since I’m the only representative from my country. I agreed and immediately missed my first ball. TSP decided he wanted to represent Canada to inspire me to do better by beating my rival – it didn’t help, but it sure made the evening funny and others picked a country to represent as well. We ended up with America, Canada, France, Italy, Germany, Switzerland, and of course The Shire (for the Hobbit), all fighting for a win. I won once beating the Hobbit which was shocking to him because I am really seriously wretched at ping pong. 

Why have I been talking about ping pong for what seems like an hour? Well, its really the only thing there is to do around here in the evenings other than watching bad movies – its that or drinking which I cannot do every night of the week. We have also been rained out every single day this week except for Friday. Apparently this is really, really uncommon and super frustrating for all involved. I would definitely prefer excavating than waiting around to see if the rain will stop. It is also particularly difficult to excavate after it rains because the soil here is rock, rock that cracks every winter with the freeze-thaw or any vegetation growth. The soil falls between these cracks and it takes ages to clean, especially if it is wet because you can’t just brush it clean like I normally would do. 

For most of the week, the focus has been on cleaning this bedrock and for the Austrian girl and I, cleaning (making the borders more visible) post holes from a house. Tedious, yes. Pain in the back and knees, yes. Fairly boring, yes. Would I rather be doing something else with my day, no. It sounds a bit cheesy, but this is how I know I am doing what I should be doing with my life and that I am a good archaeologist. There is tedium, physical pain, and boring tasks in many jobs out there, but I wouldn’t put up with it and enjoy it in the long run like I do in archaeology. There are very few jobs that take you to far off places (everyone here can’t believe I came all the way from the States, though I think of Europe as being quite close now), give you a chance to meet wonderful people who are both so similar and so different from me, and let you play in the mud and make up songs about loving post holes. It just doesn’t happen. This American cheese who initially stood alone has bonded and melted into a giant fondue pot of diversity here in France and is now enjoying her time with new friends and colleagues.

P.S. Oh yes, here is the thing I mentioned before that I said would make you Iron Ages folks a bit jealous. I also think most of us don’t realize how gigantic the Vix Krater actually is, but this definitely illustrates its size quite well. That is the curator of the museum with me in the photos. The last one was our ‘politician’ photo!

France - 1.5

This entry is titled as such because I am in between activities at the moment. Yes, that means I managed to finish my work at the museum on Wednesday. What I was initially told via email would be about 30 sculptures, 70 coins, and a few miscellaneous objects turned out to be 19 beads, 22 bracelets, 38 coins, 104 rings, 38 sculptures and some other miscellaneous objects. I catalogued the crap out of all of these and have anywhere from 3 to 15 photos per object, giving me over 1100 photos for this season of just artifacts! Not bad for a preliminary study and the fact that just about every other day new objects were found that needed to be included. I also re-measured about 100 objects once I acquired some calipers (I must say though, if I was off in my measurements from when I was using a ruler, I was only off by about a millimeter! Pretty decent I have to say).

Anywho, I wrapped up my preliminary study and said my good-byes for the year since I will likely be back next year – hopefully with better French! I asked permission from the museum for something I really wanted to have, but I will have to wait a short while before I tell you all what it was (my Iron Age archaeology friends will be a tiny bit jealous I think). I did promise the curator that in exchange for this thing I wanted, that I would spread some propaganda about how great the museum is! It is no lie, the Musée du Pays Châtillonnais is pretty fabulous! It is only about 2 years old and holds the famous Vix Krater that I blogged about last year. There are also great Gallo-Roman collections from the surrounding areas. It is definitely worth the visit if you are ever traveling in Burgundy. I did help a few Americans find what they were looking for in the museum my second to last day there, which proves it is possible for Americans to survive in that part of the country :)

After I concluded with my work Wednesday morning, I hopped a bus back to Dijon to stay with Sarah for a few days – a change of scenery was very necessary. She asked me if I wanted to see Harry Potter since it opened on Wednesday in France. Even though it was the dubbed version, I said ‘YES!’ because I remember enough of the book to get along and I can understand enough of the dialogue to figure out what’s going on. There was also so much action in this one that words weren’t really necessary. I ate some popcorn during the movie since I didn’t have time all day to eat. It was sweet though, not buttered and salted like at home, though the other option if available some places. It was ok, kind of like really, really light caramel corn with just a splash of caramel. It didn’t matter much because after I ate a proper dinner. Sarah is an amazing cook and often cooks for me when I stay with her – even if its fresh food her ability to combine amazing flavors and prepare them in a really appetizing way astounds me! 

Thursday was a national holiday in France, Bastille Day. It is like our Independence Day, but people lost their heads on that day in the French version (think Marie Antoinette and company). I was hoping there would be some celebrations/things to do or see in Dijon, but apparently most of the activities take place in the smaller surrounding cities. I was pleased to hear though that there would be fireworks! Sarah had to work, but her old roommate, Thomas, who I met last year offered to take me with he and his friends to see them by the lake near Dijon. I graciously accepted and got to see some really great fireworks – I sort of pretended in my head this was my belated Fourth of July celebration! Here are some of the photos from the hill where we were seated. It was quite lovely and bit chilly, but worth the wait:

The hill where we viewed the fireworks...

And the Grand Finale! 











On Tuesday night, before I left Châtillon, I changed from what I think of now as my third floor penthouse down to a lowly apartment so that I would be on the same floor as my excavation team. The room has most of the same features, except only one window and it is lacking the non-functioning shower. I have a better pillow, which made me happy! None of the other students had arrived yet when I left, but our artist for the site and a former archaeologist turned politician in Germany turned up this week as well as an old French ceramic specialist who looks at the Attic pottery from the site. We all had dinner Monday and Tuesday night at the director’s house where I was “encouraged” to try a glass of wine from the various different bottles we had each night. Ugh, you know you are getting old or you enjoyed your college years too much when you only get an acidy stomach without the buzz from three glasses of wine. Sigh. I was also told by my director that I need to practice my wine drinking as much as my French. We’ll see how that goes, ha!

So, now I shall hop on the bus again and return to Châtillon to begin the second part of my summer in France. Excavations begin Monday at the Early Iron Age site of Vix. We will be excavating a dwelling or two, which will be great because during all of my excavations, I’ve never looked at something as basic and as necessary as a person’s home. I am looking forward to it and am excited to meet the rest of the team. I was told I will probably not improve my French much because most of the other students are German, but a girl can hope! I have no internet now in my new room, so I will update when I can. Until then, thanks for following along and I hope to bring you all and update soon!

For Those of You Who Would Like A Little More Glamor With Your Archaeology...

I thought I'd kill some time and have some fun making cataloging objects a little more exciting for those of you faithfully following my blog this summer. Of course everything I'm sharing is based on actual events.

So one of my days started off examining a strange ex-voto of a human head...

I moved on from this object to continue my studies for the day. I heard a strange noise coming from behind me where I set the object down just a short time earlier...

A shadow fell over my workspace, and when I finally looked up, I was face-to-face with this!

Stupid Jean-Jaque-Louis-Philip, always sneaking up on people in the museum...

Hope you enjoyed my procrastination. I'll provide a proper update tomorrow :)

Being An Archeologist Isn’t Always Glamorous…

When last I left you, I was recovering from all of my travels in Dijon with my friend Sarah. There isn’t much to share about the five days I spent there. A lot of sleep was involved. Sarah learned English at the university, so she is fluent in both languages which makes her a good French teacher. She is really patient too and I took advantage of her abilities to practice my French. We walked around the city a bit and saw a few movies (Sarah works at a movie theatre – she gave me a bunch of movie promo t-shirts for my excavation, but I think I like them too much to get them dirty!). I watched the newest X-Men in French since I already saw it in English and figured I could piece some of the dialogue together. I also watched the second Twilight movie in French along with the subtitles in French to get used to hearing it – I figured the story is pretty easy and lame that I could follow along easily. I have to say, I like the French voices much better than those of the actual actors; when I got too tired to listen to the French for the last half hour of the movie, I was really disappointed to hear the actors’ real voices. The French ones had much more feeling to them and were loads sexier. Twilight still sucks.

Anyway… I said au revoir to Sarah on Monday and caught a bus to Châtillon-sur-Seine. Luckily the empty-for-the-summer boarding school at which I’m staying was very close to where I exited the bus. The lunch hour was just wrapping up when I arrived and found someone right away to get me into my room. I’m staying in a lime-green bedroom on the third floor of a boarding school. No one is here right now, so it is super quiet and all the lights are timed, so it’s dark every time I open my door to the hallway regardless of the time of day.

I have a sink in my room and a shower that doesn’t work, but works well for draping my freshly sink-washed clothes (see where the not so glamorous stuff is starting to sneak in?). I have the room to myself at the moment, which is nice. I throw stuff on the other bed occasionally, but don’t really use it. I do use the other desk for my food storage and eating area (my desk is used for its intended purpose). I have a little armoire/closet-like thing that has some useful shelves, so I’m no living out of my bag for once. I have to walk down the other end of the long hallway for the toilets and functioning showers. I don’t have a kitchen, or microwave, which leaves me with limited food options at the moment since I’m fending for myself before the excavation – mostly baguette, stinky cheese, fresh fruit, canned or dried meat/fish, and peanut butter from home.

After I settled in at my new home, I decided I should check out the museum just in case it is closed on Tuesdays like most national museums in France. I arrived at the main desk and muddled my way through some French asking to speak to the conservator because I was here to study some stuff (I’ll fill you in momentarily). As my good timing had it, his assistant walked in and took me up to the area I’d be working. I essentially have a desk in someone’s office that is apparently never around or it is just sort of everyone’s office to hold random things for the museum. The assistant’s name is Patricia (said with a French accent) and I like her a lot. She is very sweet and was really good about immediately speaking French slowly so that I understood. I hadn’t really planned on looking at anything, just wanted to check things out, but she had me downstairs a short time later and was pulling things from the display case for me to look at. We took them back up and I sat with the objects looking pensive for a while (couldn’t do much without my computer). After a short while, the curator, M. Coudrot, walked in and greeted me and talked with me briefly about my research. I felt I could sneak away after that and told them I’d be back tomorrow. I found a supermarket, ate some dinner, and fell asleep.

Now begins the really glamor-lacking, unsexy, and dull part of being an archaeologist. My plans for this summer are split between museum research and an excavation (you’ll hear more about the excavation as it begins). The museum research is cataloguing, photographing, and researching objects from a spot in the city I’m staying called, Source de la Douix (the spring/source of the Douix [river]) that later joins the Seine river which runs all the way northwest through Paris. The city of Châtillon sits on the Seine, which is why its full name is Châtillon-sur-Seine (Châtillon-on-[the] Seine) – Hopefully you all don’t mind the French lesson! The objects I’m looking at come from an excavation where they literally pumped out and diverted the water as it came out of the ground so that cavers could explore the caves further back and underground and also so archaeologists could have a peak at what was in the cave area because water sources traditionally had religious significance to prehistoric people. This is the sort of thing I’m writing my dissertation about and why I’m here to look at these objects.

I was told before I arrived that there were about 30-40 sculptures, about 70 coins, and then a handful of miscellaneous objects that I would be able to examine. When I arrived and said I had 12 days to examine it all, they laughed because there wasn’t that much in the display cases, which surprised me too. My first day of work was spent looking at objects, but mostly me thinking, “How am I going to drag this out that long…I’m going to be bored out of my skull if I get this all done in a few days…” The next day I talked with the curator some more and he said there might be some objects on reserve and that he would go check. He returned with three boxes of small finds. At this point, my mind went from worry of being bored to panic, “How am I going to get all this done before I leave?” And to make my panic worse, I found out both the curator and his assistant are leaving on Wednesday for vacation and that I will have to be done by then. I’m currently still in a bit of panic mode since now I have about a hundred small objects to catalogue in the next two to three days.

“What do you mean by catalogue?” you might be wondering. Cataloguing involves some very boring and tedious tasks. Basically I have categories of information I need to collect. My database includes: catalogue number, object type, sub-type, museum location (storage or display), inventory number, period, dates, material, preservation, measurements of all sorts, description of the object, excavation location, photos, comparanda, comments, additional bibliography of the object, and several other similar categories. I have currently completed this for 86 objects in the past four days. I spent most of yesterday sorting the new small objects that I will have to fly through, but they don’t require as much description as sculpture does, for example, so I should be able to get it all done. On top of this stuff, I have to keep notes as to points where I take measurements from on an object, keep photos in order so I know which objects are which in the photos, and the worst job so far has most definitely been sketching both sides of the coins because photos don’t really capture most of the details on these, especially when they are worn away.

Now that you have a better idea as to what most real archaeology and research is like, I’ll leave you with the visual of me sorting, writing, typing, and photographing a whole bunch of objects that are about the size of the tip of my finger. Enjoy!

Travel Woos! and Woes

Howdy summer blog readers! I keep thinking I should change the name of my blog from ‘Mea Minneapolis’ to something more fitting since I’ve dropped off blogging while I’m at home – I think it’s the result of too much technology/technology overload and I miss human contact when I’m busy writing about my life rather than telling you all in conversation, but alas, time to get back from my tangent.

Its summertime, which means I’m back on the road, skies, and rails once again! I’ve literally taken all of those to bring me to my current and main destination for this summer – Chatillon-sur-Seine in eastern France. Knowing you are about to leave your house, boyfriend, and kitty all for over a month is a bit overwhelming, not to mention the whole packing for research, an excavation, a vacation, and pre-packing for a wedding (my Ami is getting married a few days after my return!)…I had a lot on my plate this year. Needless to say, my rational and irrational travel anxiety fears were in high gear the Sunday night before I began my travels and didn’t allow me much sleep. My travels began at 7AM on June 28^th when I left glorious Minneapolis and my super sweet boyfriend, who got up before the sun to drop me off just before 6AM, via the not-as-bad-as-you-might-think Greyhound Bus bound for Chicago.

Chicago, you might note, is not in France. Why Chicago then? I can give you a $500 answer! Yes, the difference in airfare for me to leave from Chicago vs. Minneapolis was a $500 difference. *Take this as a tip when traveling on a budget – check around to other nearby airports for better rates. Usually it is the bigger airports, but sometimes it can be the smaller ones, like Lansing or Flint for my Michigan followers, or Chicago or Milwaukee for those of you west of Lake Michigan.* Since I purchased it in advance online it was only $23 – check Greyhound’s website for Advance Purchase rates, which can save you sometimes more than 50% or Megabus which have fares as low as single digits! – and the bus ride itself was eight hours, which isn’t so bad if you board at an early hour like I did or if you have some reading you’d like to catch up on! I took an express bus, which was quite comfortable and only stopped twice. It arrived on time and it was great not having to drive through traffic in Chicago. Moral of the story here is, taking a bus has a lot of benefits: me time to do whatever, technically its multitasking since you are traveling and doing something else, you don’t have to worry about other stupid drivers, you might meet someone really super and friendly like I did and learn about a life you would never have known otherwise, and the obvious two, its ecofriendly and economical.

Another tangent, sorry. I arrived in Chicago and waited a short while at a Starbucks for a friend of mine who I met on an excavation in Greece four years ago! We hadn’t seen each other in at least three years and I learned after I arrived she will be moving to Boston soon, so it was quite lucky that our paths crossed again! We had a delightful evening of catching up, chatting, grabbing some Greek/Mediterranean food for dinner, and walking around her historic neighborhood/city of Oak Park. I absolutely love staying with friend when traveling. You always get to see things or a place that you normally would not have visited or experienced if you were staying at a hotel. Thanks again, Lady Gray, for having me and showing me all the beautiful homes in your neighborhood!

The next day, June 29^th the day of my flight, I was lucky to get to spend the day with another friend, my old roommate/co-worker from my video store days! He picked me up and we grabbed some super yummy Italian food and visited for a couple hours. He was nice enough to drive me out to O’Hare International Airport so I could catch my flight. It’s a lifesaver not having to navigate public transportation when you have big bags, and its always much better to have someone send you off on a big trip with a hug than going on your own.

Security at O’Hare is slow and delayed just like everything else at that airport. It took me an hour to get through everything from the time I arrived at the airport until I grabbed my seat in the waiting area. After making some last minute phone calls to family I boarded the plane and took my seat next to a smelly man. I didn’t notice as time went on and I’m glad I wasn’t the smelly one in the seat, since I worked up quite a sweat with my bags! The flight overall was uneventful, which is always a good thing in my book! I watched two movies and slept only about an hour, which is unusual for me on overnight flights.

I was pleased as pudding, pie, peaches, whatever, to see that my bag arrived this time! Yay! Huzzah! Victory, victory, sweet, sweet victory! All it takes is a direct flight apparently. An ATM was not visible anywhere and I didn’t have enough cash leftover for a bus to the train station, Gare de Lyon. After searching for a while, I finally found one and worked my way on to a bus heading into Paris. Within the first ten minutes of the hour and a half ride I knew I was going to get sick. Traffic was terrible, stop-and-go, stop-and-go. The air was on, but it didn’t help and I had a window seat and couldn’t look straight ahead. I had the forethought to go up and ask the driver if he had a bag for me to get sick into since I was already feeling my stomach squeezing and wanting to heave. The woman I was sitting with was nice enough to trade seats and let me sit in the aisle instead. I managed to fall asleep for some time and woke up as we were entering the city. I was feeling good and thinking to myself, I’m going to make it without vomiting in public, alright! But then the stop-and-go, stop-and-go started up again and my stomach demanded it stop. It took a strong offensive and won. Now I can’t blame it all on the traffic, airplane food always makes me sick or at least makes me feel crappy, but never of the vomiting sort, and I think the lack of sleep didn’t help either. The bus made it to the train station ten minutes later – I was so close!

Still feeling like crap, I checked the departure boards and saw I could make a train to Dijon in ten minutes. I tried one of the automatic ticket machines since the purchase counter line was really long, but it rejected both of my credit cards, damn. I hopped in line knowing my chance for the 11:30AM train was not going to happen. Once I got to the counter I learned that all of the second class/cheap tickets for the next train leaving at 12:58PM were sold and that the next train I could catch at the cheap rate wasn’t until 2:34PM. I inquired about the first class rate because, feeling super tired and not wanting to sit around feeling sick at the train station, paying more and at least getting to my destination seemed like a better idea to me in that moment. I pay an arm and a leg and maybe my first born for that 80€ seat on the train, but I’m pretty sure it was worth it.

I rested and relaxed while on the train and arrived in Dijon about two hours later. My friend Sarah, who I met and stayed with in Dijon last year, was waiting for me when I got off the train. Seeing a familiar face in a foreign land is a huge comfort, especially when you aren’t feeling 100%. We got back to her flat and she headed out to work for a few hours while I slept peacefully and deeply for the first time in days.