Quand Il Faut Partir

It is the last evening of my stay here in Besancon, France. I feel quite sad now, listening to French music, getting amazing French pastry recipes, and chatting with Randi who used to be just across the hallway some couple weeks ago.
When I look back (which is the thing to do right now, I guess) there is an awful lot of things I have done.
I have improved my French from "Don't speak" to "Can't stop talking", I have traveled to 4 big cities in France and 7 local places in Franch-Comte.
I would always joke about my family having a cow in the basement of which we have been eating everything ever since I came. Consider this: cow cheeks, liver, intestine, heart, and of course meat too.
I got to try the regional cheeses (Comte, Concoillote, Morbier, Chevre) and sausages (Morteau, Merguez) and got sick after eating one of them.
I fell in love with French pastry: pain au chocolat, pain aux amandes, tuils aux amandes, creme de caramel, creme brule, petits gateaux, etc.
I learned how to cross a street without almost looking and many other things (see down there).
I fell in love and definitely will be leaving a part of my heart in France.
Au revoir, j'espere. France, je t'aime.

Avenue Champs-Elysees

It seems to me that there is no need to elaborate on the description of this avenue. It is the beating heart of Paris, where you can find clothes worth thousand euros, food, but also the Arc de Triomph on one end and Louvre on the other.

One for Boys, One for Girls...

Chocolat, Chocolat, Chocolat...

I know that I will be going of the sequence (I mean the Paris sequence here) but I thought that I would have to share my photos with all the chocolate lovers! With our class, we went to visit a Chocolatier (the one who makes chocolate) and believe me, it was unbelievable! Above is the process, below the results.

The American Bicycle

So it happened, I spent a week riding bicycles with my family. As we rode our bikes for 30 K a day, my transmission began to make some funny sounds. My dad tried to fix it (he just didn't see that he was tightening my breaks instead of the transmission wire), but for some reason's to him unknown, it would not get better (well, at least the breaks became more sensitive ;)
Well, so we are riding through this really nice field with flowers around and my transmission keeps clicking without a break. And now my aunts rides up to me and says, 'Why are you changing gears all the time?' Well I did not know I was changing them, in fact they were changing without me doing anything! So, I am explaining this to my aunts and she goes, 'Well, you have to have it the American way, don't you?' So yes, I had an American bike with fully automatic transmission, anybody's jealous?


PS: My dad eventually managed to tighten the right wire one day before the vacation ended.

Nice Blague

So I decided to write something funny in here, well, maybe not really, but I'll try.

So this happened when we went to Monaco on our Nice trip at the end on June. Brandon, Anna, and I went for a walk and all the sudden I saw this bronze statue of woman in a little park, so I jokingly tell Brandon, 'There is someone waiting for you there, Brandon.'
Anna: 'Who is it?'
Me: 'It's that girl over there in the park'
Brandon (after looking at the green statue): 'But she is green!'
Anna: 'She's been waiting for too long...'

Oh well, so i just thought that this could make some people laugh, maybe not... It's short anyways.
:)

"Safe" in Paris

Well, I thought that I would share some rather unbelievable story - but it's truth - before I forget it and also before I post some more pictures :).
For those who don't think that God exists, here is a proof:

During my Paris trip, I happened to be right in front of Cathedral Notre Dame. It is a very big gothic cathedral with a big square in front of it. On that day (Sunday) there was a concert going on in the evening and so the area was full of chairs. As I tried to get the best shot of the beautiful building without anyone standing in front of me, I walked all the way to the last row of chairs and placed myself very close to the chairs (this is a very important fact).

And so I was taking my picture all calm, happy that nobody's head was in it. And all the sudden, this guy comes running in with bunch of police men, pointing at my feet! None of the men looked very calm and they seemed to hurry to my feet, so I got scared that my feet did something bad and stepped a bit to the side.

Well, I also looked at the stone tiles on the ground and I could not believe what I saw. There was a small (4-5 inch tall) cylinder-shaped metal-ish thing, filled with something and closed off with clay. And, yes, the French word for bomb sounds much like the English one and I could hear that from both the guy and the policemen.

This all happened really fast, and right after, the policemen began clearing out the area.
So all summed up: My foot could have been a foot far from a bomb. I know that it was God's will that I didn't step into it, or kick it, and that the bomb didn't blow up. But, wherever God is, I am safe and I know that God has been here with me in France; wherever I go, he is there.