Entre Nous is Samantha’s blog about her life in La Rochelle.
Now, how Samantha got to La Rochelle is quite a story.
Quite a love story, in fact!
It starts with the words… “This whole thing began because of a wonderful, red haired French boy. On a trip to America he met a shy American girl who was terrible with pen pals.”
Now, has that got you tingling in those places that tingle best?
If so, you might want to read the rest of Samantha’s version of the Franco-American Story.
The early days: the Paris bits….
But I’m going to start off by having a peel at the early days of Samantha’s adventures in France.
Which start, quite logically, with her arrival in Paris.
On the plane, Entre Nous… as the adventure begins, Samantha wonders… “Would we act as strangers? Would it be awkward? Would we resume our friendship perfectly after six years of being apart?”
Well, she needn’t have worried because, upon landing Sur Terre, he was there and (could you just hold on for a minute? I just to grab a tissue – must have got something in my eye)… “I turned to the left and there he was. My friend. For so long we had both waited for this moment. He took me in his arms and kissed me on the cheek. I had arrived. I was in Paris.”
Ahh. Isn’t that romantic?
In Etre Parisian we learn all about giggling waiters and self-cleaning toilets, amongst many other things, as well.
The La Rochelle Months….
En Route to La Rochelle finds Samantha on a train speeding westwards and she’s already pulled!
As she explains… “A little boy of five just passed me on the train. He stopped to turn around and look at me with his large brown eyes, made a noise at me with his lips, and then carried on.”
Way to go, Samantha! Get ’em young and train them up (and I’m so, so sorry for the train pun!)
We then learn all about Ma vie a La Rochelle.
No chance encounters with five year old boys but Samantha does have une petite sieste!
Poor girl, she probably all worn out from all those chance encounters with five year old boys?
She does says that… “I have yet to meet an unfriendly Frenchman, though I know they must be out there.”
Well, in Cussing Cabs and Stupid Strikes she finally meets one!
And he’s a cab driver!
A cab drive with colourful language (but then, don’t they all have rather colourful language?)
“WHAT did he just say??” Samantha’s mother asked.
“Putain,” She replied. “It means… um… he likes the color of that old lady’s car.”
Nice one, Samantha! Quick thinking! I like that!
Until, of course, your Mother sees your neighbour’s (or anyone’s, for that matter), new car and says, in all innocence… Pu***n!
On the First Day of School, Samantha has some trouble on the buses and then meets a nice French boy who walks her to school.
I’m not sure if it was another five year old; she doesn’t say!
And then there’s a shopping trip on Saturday which Samantha justifies by saying… “Clothes are now an investment of sorts, and my closet is home to many friends that spark inspiration every time I lay eyes on them. Getting dressed is an art, a way of expression, a game to entertain my imagination.”
Which, amazingly is exactly what Mrs A Taste of Garlic says to me when she comes home from the market laden with shopping bags!
Random rants and stalkers….
Samantha has a stalker!
Lucky girl! I’ve always wanted one of those – preferably shaped like Felicity Kendall?
In France’s Most Wanted we learn that Samantha’s stalker is… “He has small beady eyes, hair growing out of his ears (!!!) a cane, and is approching 85 years old. He wears a forest green blazer, has hair in random patches on his head, and hearing aids the size of large beetles.”
Actually, on second thoughts Samantha, you can keep your stalker!
Still, a bit of Harmless Ranting never did anyone any harm.
Especially when you are… “annoyed with the bus system as it only sends buses once an hour on Sundays. I am even more annoyed with all the mentally handicapped people who, for some reason, decided to take my bus this morning and stare at me.”
Personally I don’t know what she’s complaining about? Up here in rural Brittany, the bus has yet to be invented!
But in Frusterations from a Francofile we discover that Samantha is having trouble learning the language and feels that she needs to… “find a French tutor who can hold my hand through the language and put a delicious verre du vin in the other.”
Perhaps? Difficult for me to say as I learned most of my French working in a pig abattoir and arguing footie down at the local bar?
So, Summing up….
This is a lovely fresh new blog by someone who sounds like a whole lot of fun.
I suggest to take some time off, pour yourself a glass of wine and stroll down to Entre Nous and have a real good look around.
Wish me luck!
All the best