FRANCE: Food, Wine, and Nutella
After the Italian all-nighter, I was gathered up at Marseille by Megan (from Vanderbilt) who brought me to Aix en Provence – which seemed a French version of both St. Andrews and Vanderbilt. Megan and I spent three days with the other Vanderbilt-in-France kids, doing nothing. Nothing. It was perfect, I had more Nutella (try it. love it.) than my body can handle, and got to hang out with quite a few fun kids. Only once did conversations slip toward fraternities, residential colleges, and the Vanderbilt Hustler.
From Aix en Provence, headed to Domessin with Jerome (the flatmate) and parents, in the Alps, for 24 hours of eating and drinking. At some point in the first evening, my lack of wine knowledge became glaringly apparent, at which point Jerome’s dad began my education. We ate and drank for five hours, the French equivalent of a crawfish boil.
Speaking of which, I come home at the end of May. Who wants some crawfish?
After the culinary wonder that was the Lozat home, Jerome and I went to Compiegne to meet his wonderful girlfriend Celine and spend a day in Paris. We saw all the sights, but by that time – sort of parallel with my Easter Break journal entries – I was done. Exhausted. Pooped, if you will.
More photojournalism by Mark:
Mark, Andrew, Megan (yes, mother, we’re eating vegetables)
So apparently, there was this really famous guy named Cezanne who painted this mountain a lot.
If you’re not a quick one, we’re spelling out A-I-X. why, you ask?
Because we went and saw THIS. That’s right. French American Football, complete with hot dogs served inside French bread. Remember the Titans? Please. How do you say touchdown in French?
Andrew, Nick, Nate, and Mark, failing to figure out the self-timer on the digital cameras.
The Lozats and friends, after our culinary marathon:
Yveline in the cottage window
The view from the same window
It had to be done, right?
Geez. What do I write about now?