Farewell Fumel

So my time in Fumel has finally come to an end. Obviously before I left, there were a few things to do. Such as:

• Sell my car
• Eat at Le Burger à 6 Pâtes once more
• Close my bank account
• Cancel car insurance
• Sample the local nightlife properly
• Leave

Here's how it went:

1. Sell the car

When I bought the car back in November, the seller assured me that if I brought it back in a fair condition, he'd buy it back off me, on the premise that as a Renault Clio, it would sell on easily. Inevitably, when I showed up, he reeled off the spiel about how much the market has deteriorated in the last 6 months and explained how he couldn't possibly buy the car. Hmm. So I was left with the task of selling a 19 year-old petrol car by myself, in a rural part of a foreign country. Not a problem. I realised that Fumel as a town was not an ideal place to be selling a car, so I set off for nearby Villeneuve-sur-Lot, hoping to find a second hand dealer to take it off my hands. The reaction I got was the same in every place I visited, and that was a lot. The impression was that, the car was too old, and as a petrol, not worth the price I was asking, which was very low. So I headed back across to Fumel, and then further towards Cahors, all to no avail. Then a friend alerted me to leboncoin.fr, a sort of Craigslist in France. Apprently it's the go-to site in France whenever you're looking for anything. So I placed an ad for the car for free without much hope, as I was meant to be leaving a week later. So with 'for sale' signs in the window of the car and around town, I entered the final week expecting to bring the car back to England with me, which I quite liked the sound of. Then out of the blue, I get a call from someone who'd seen the ad online and was interested. A day later and I'd sold the car and was able to cancel my insurance in 5 minutes. Very happy. The process of selling a car is fairly simple, but as everyone knows is standard in France, there is a lot of paperwork. Thankfully as the seller, my part was fairly minimal, but for the buyer, it's a bit of a nightmare. But I won't bore you with all that. The end result is that I had to part with my beloved Clio, which had completely changed my time in France.

2. Eat at Le Burger à 6 Pâtes

I mentioned a while ago that I was laying off the delicious burgers but decided to head back there during my last week to sample their newest addition to the menu, Le Duck. I was cautious at first, unsure as to whether duck belonged in a bun with chips or not. It does. Le Duck is a triumph, as are all the burgers on the menu. If you're in Lot-et-Garonne, venture out to Fumel and visit this place.

Cheerio Clio

3. Close my bank account

A tricky situation for me, in that I am expecting a payment later in the summer, once appropriate paperwork is processed. I explained that I would not be using the account again, but money would be coming in later on so would want to cancel it then. Usually it's an absolute certainty to be present in the original branch of the bank when you want to close it, but I think they've allowed me to email them when I'm done using it so fingers crossed. One thing that they said was impossible, was to cancel my statements being posted to my old address. In the UK, paper statements are increasingly rare and so I assumed that this wouldn't be a problem, but I was told that a new address had to be given. In the end, we agreed that the statements, even though they would show zero activity, would be sent to the branch, who would destroy them. Fair enough.

4. Cancel car insurance: taken care of.

5. Sample local nightlife

Le Burger à 6 Pâtes offers the only real 'night' in Fumel, every Friday with its cocktail parties. I never made it to one, but did have a few of the cocktails, which were tasty. I'm told that the only real night out in this part of Lot-et-Garonne is London's Discotheque, just outside Villeneuve-sur-Lot. I finally got to experience this thanks to a local school tradition, the Percent. The Percent celebrates 100 days before the first exam of the Baccalaureate for students in their final year of Lycee, and during the day, those students come to school in fancy dress to lark around, throwing flour, eggs and anything else on the other students. In the evening, they all descend upon the local discotheque and invite their teachers to join them, so we did. The location of London's is rather bizarre, out of town on the road to Bordeaux surrounded by car dealerships, and so without the large group of students, I struggle to see who would be there, but anyway, it was good to see some life in the area past 10pm.

Fumel in April sunshine

6. Leave

I have become very attached to Fumel, after a difficult start in the town, and so finally leaving it was somewhat saddening. The fact that when bathed in sunshine the town looks infinitely better than usual made it even more difficult. Anyway, after some emotional goodbyes, I hopped on the bus from Monsempron-Libos station, headed to Agen for a few days. SOmething that made leaving a little more difficult, was the fact that I genuinely have no idea if i'll ever be back to the town. Seeing as it's not that easily accesible, returning from further afield in France for a quick visit wouldn't be that easy, but I do hope at some stage I can return. Farewell Fumel, it's been emotional.



All that's left for me is a brief stay in Agen, en profitant of my final days in France, before heading back to the UK from Toulouse with Easyjet.  

Pizzeria La Fontaine

Au début de l'année, j'ai vécus une expérience assez délicat à la pizzeria.

http://livingthelot.blogspot.fr/2012/10/burning-bridges.html

Mais après cela, je visitais La Fontaine assez souvent pour plusieurs raisons.

1. Il y a de Wi-Fi, une denrée rare à Fumel.

2. Il montre les grands matchs du rugby et du foot.

3. Il est à côté de la laverie que j'utilise.

4. Les pizzas sont excellents.

"Restauration rapide" est la description, mais je dirais que "restaurant" serais plus approprié car il y a une bonne variété des pizzas, burgers, viandes, entrées et desserts aussi. Le ménu du jour est pas cher et l'ambiance est très agréable. Assurément digne d'une visite.

Penne d'Agenais

Pendant ma lutte de vendre ma voiture, j'ai décidé de visiter l'ancien bourg de Penne d'Agenais et son église fabuleuse. Pendant toute l'année, quand je roulais entre Fumel et Villeneuve-sur-Lot, l'église est un flambeau, toujours visible même pendant la nuit.

Avec ses dômes d'argent, l'église, qui reste au sommet d'une colline solitaire est inratable. En profitant du soleil d'avril, j'ai monté pour regarder la vallée du Lot en plein soleil.

La vue du Lot par Penne d'Agenais

Monflanquin

Après ma dernière visite à Villeneuve Golf & Country Club, je décidais de retourner à Fumel par l’ancienne ville bastide de Monflanquin. Le Lot et Garonne est connu pour sa collection des anciens bastides du Moyen Age. Comme le moyen, cette bastide se situe au dessus d’une colline, qui rend tous les vues de la ville impressionnant. La place de la mairie avec quelques cafés/restaurant se baigne dans le soleil. C'est un très jolie petit village qui retient beaucoup des anciens traits, comme la grande sirène utilisé par les pompiers qui ressemble une sirène d'alerte aérienne de la 2eme Guerre Mondiale. J'ai pris un café chez La Bastide et j'ai promené parmi les petites rues, en profitant du soleil. Monflanquin, à ne pas rater.

Place de la Mairie 

Easter Weekend

With there being no school on easter Monday, I decided to take an extra long weekend and meet up with some Spanish friends at the end of their Semana Santa holiday. The rendez-vous point was Biarritz, on the Atlantic coast near the Spanish border. From there, we would travel to St-Jean-de-Luz, San Sebastián and Bilbao in the space of 3 days.  Getting to Biarritz is easy. There are regular TGVs that go between Hendaye, the border town, and Bordeaux/Paris. I had been told that the city of Biarritz, was “bourgeois” but that didn’t really tell me a lot. I mean the word bourgeois, what does that mean nowadays? Was I expecting well dressed families to be strolling along the beachfront with a parasol and an ice cream? No. But I was half expecting something similar to a Nice or a Monaco. The reality wasn’t far off.

An overcast Biarritz 

Yes the town is plentiful in its supply of high-end fashion boutiques and luxuriously expensive eateries, but it does still have a pleasant seaside getaway feel to it. It’s spoilt with two incredible beaches and some stunning architecture, but it has managed to hold on to a viable destination for the average family. And with its accessibility from the Spanish side of the border, people pop by regularly to stroll along the coastal paths or just sit on the beach, ice cream in hand. After a rather expensive night on the town, with rugby players propping up the bars along the way, I took myself off for an early morning dip in the Atlantic. I realised that the looks of utter bewilderment from locals in my direction were to be expected, as the water was baltic. Perhaps its an english way of looking at things, but I was by the sea, it wasn't too cold out of the water and I hadn't been in the sea for a long time. So after 20 minutes or so tip-toeing in the shallows, I took the plunge and bathed for about 15 minutes. Ample time to shake the hangover. En route to our next stop of San Sebastián, we decided to stop for a long lunch in St-Jean-de-Luz. A lovely little beach town ten minutes down the road from Biarritz, and much calmer. We soaked up the sun, had a quick dip in the sea, which was much warmer than in Biarritz, and then moved on to Donostia-San Sebastián.

Playa de Zurriola, Donostia

 An incredible city. Billed as a surfer's paradise, I was expecting a beach resort. What I got was an incredible city with two incredible beaches. If we'd had more time in the city, I'm certain we could only have liked it more. We decided to go surfing for a few hours to work up an appetite, and that we did. There was an almighty wind battering the beach and this made the waves huge. Choppy, but huge. The rest of the afternoon was spent, on the beach, taking in more sunshine and relaxing before a few beers in the evening in one of the many Irish Pubs in Spain. The majority of Irish Pubs in Spain are to be avoided at all costs, but the fact that they are, on average, cheaper than the more typical spanish bar and the fact that they are the only places that show sport from outside of Spain, makes them a good place to visit from time to time. An early afternoon bus got us to Bilbao just in time for the Easter Sunday celebrations, which involve a huge procession through the city by marching bands and banner-carriers from all the parishes in the area. 

Easter Sunday Parade - Bilbao

The costumes shock anyone who doesn't know the story, as they are basically the same as that of the Klu Klux Klan. However, the tradition involving the costume for the Easter parade throughout all of Spain long precedes that of the Klan. Anyway, Bilbao, and in fact the Basque Country as a whole, is renowned for its fabulous gastronomy. So we felt it only right that we went for the customary pintxos before dinner. Similar to tapas, the pintxo is a finger-food that is served at every bar. What differentiates the pintxo from the tapas is that it is always served on a small slice of bread. Delicious. Pintxos, followed by dinner, followed by more beers brought the weekend to a fitting close. I had just enough time to wander around central Bilbao in the morning before a long journey home. First the luxury Alsa Supra+ bus to San Sebastián, which provides individual TV screens with plane-like entertainment libraries, and complimentary drinks. Then the shuttle train to the border town of Hendaye, where I had an hour to wait until my TGV to Bordeaux, so, in brilliant sunshine, I bought a baguette and headed to the beach.

Hendaye beach

Being a jour ferié, the transport connecting the cities to the countryside wasn't very good, and I was forced to chance my arm (literally) and try to hitch a ride from Villeneuve-sur-Lot to Fumel. Luckily after only 10 mins of thumb-brandishing, a mother and son picked me up and took me all the way home. Perfect.
Another cracking trip, made very easy by SNCF. 

Vacances de Pâques

The oddly named “Winter Holidays” during the first two weeks of March gave me ample time to see all the bits of France that I had yet to see, and the rest. My targeted area, the Côte d’Azur.  

After a 9-hour train journey, I arrived at my first stop of the trip, Marseille.

Marseille

Marseille splits opinion amongst French natives. Some tell me to avoid it all together, others tell me I absolutely must visit. It is a huge city, but in my opinion, very little of it needs seeing and most of it needs avoiding. The area around the Vieux Port is very nice, with plenty of great places to eat at a reasonable price, and plenty of good bars. But other than that and the Basilica which hovers above the city, there really isn’t much else worth seeing with the exception of a few monuments dotted in and amongst some dodgy areas of town. Forty minutes up the road, is the university town of Aix-en-Provence, which is a student and fashionista haven. Its’ comparisons to Paris are justified. It seems like the place to spend a term or year abroad as an American art student, which is odd because there was only one museum, Musée Granet, which can boast any sort of art collection, but I must admit it is some collection. The Atelier Cézanne was a huge let-down. After being told it was a 10-minute walk from town, we set off, only to find the slope increasing with every step. Eventually we made it to the quaint little cottage, which you can imagine would have once boasted fantastic views before the installation of an apartment block next-door. The steep entry fee is, for most, entirely unjustified. You pay about €5 to see the room where Cézanne painted a few of his paintings, complete with plastic fruit, false furniture and the obligatory silent movie in the corner. The gardens are free to enter but not really much to see. Overall however, the town of Aix itself, is a lovely place to stop for a few days. A widely suggested day trip is the seaside village of Cassis, which is small but pretty. Unfortunately it rained the whole time I was there but I can imagine that the harbour can only be prettier in the sunshine. However, if you’re not there to taste the wine or trek up into the hills, I’m not really sure why you’d be there as a tourist. We lunched there, soaked up the sea air, and left. 

That seemed like enough. Along the coast towards the Italian border, Cannes offers little hors saison. Perhaps my impression of Cannes was dampened by the fact that it poured with rain for the few hours I was there, but even still, when I asked at the tourist office what there was to do, she struggled to offer a viable alternative to sitting on the beach. Considering the film festival is world famous, I was expecting some sort of museum or exhibition at least. But I was told that you can only visit the Palais des festivals through guided visit and the next one was on the 20^th. I was there on the 9^th. So after a walk up to a church with a good view across the bay, I carried on to Nice, which as a place is annoying because the perfect adjective to describe it is, nice. I had 2 full days in Nice, most of which was spent sunbathing on the pebbled beach. The Promenade des Anglais is packed with runners, cyclists and even elderly power-walkers, but there is still enough space for a leisurely stroll. I think that there is a lot more to Nice than I discovered, but the bits I did see where beautiful and I can completely understand why so many people retire to the area. I also managed to go to a football match at Stade du Ray. Nice vs Montpellier. What an incredible atmosphere. Unwittingly I bought a ticket right in the middle of the 'hard-core' section and so was on my feet trying to learn the songs for the entire match. Nice won the match 2-0 in the end and I was very glad I went.

The beach at Nice

Reluctantly, I boarded the TGV and headed north to Lyon. Lyon surprised me. I knew basically nothing about it and so naturally I imagined it as a large industrial hub with little to offer to a tourist. How wrong was I? It turned out that my plan to “do” Lyon in a day was very ambitious, and by the end of it, I had to chuck out my shoes after some serious walking after a hike up to the Basilica and Roman Amphitheatres that overlook the city. Having thouroughly enjoyed my brief visit I hopped back on the TGV and got to really experience the ‘GV’ part. You see, between Nice and Lyon, even though the journey is over 4 hours, it stops too regularly to get up to top speed. Between Lyon and Paris however, there were no stops and so the train really opened up which was fun. The couple across the table from me kanoodling for 2 and a half hours was not fun, neither was the two hour wait for an RER to arrive. Snow had plunged the city into chaos. However, Paris was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I probably needed an extra day in the city but I had to make do with just the day, so I did.  As a student from the EU, you can see all of Paris’ best bits for free, so I did. My desire to keep all costs to a minimum, and anticipating an expensive soiree, I boycotted the metro in favour of walking. The fresh layer of snow that had fallen overnight made this tricky, but at least I wasn’t stuck on a metro platform along with most Parisians.  The Louvre, Invalides, Champs Elysees, Tour Eiffel and the rest made it a day to savour, and it was topped off by a well-deserved bière à la pression.  Having experienced the good and the bad of the SNCF, when I discovered that I could fly to Madrid for less than it would cost to get a train back to Fumel, I duly obliged, and landed in the glorious sunshine of Madrid. Having visited the city on numerous occasions, when a friend suggested a day trip to nearby Toledo, I thought why not? Although Toledo is half a day at most, the sunshine made that half-day ever so pleasant and I would recommend it to anyone in Madrid with a spare half-day.  

Toledo Cathedral

Madrid, as always was a great place to be for a few nights. The hostel we’d booked into was one of the best I’ve stayed in, and the customary pub-crawl was one to remember as we ended up in a cracking bar/club in the backstreets that a city guide would never recommend.

Returning to Fumel for the final stint of my year in France, I looked back on an amazing two weeks' holiday, but realised I wasn't exactly well-rested and refreshed. Yes, I had a little time on the beach at Nice, but other than that, it was jam-packed with action. All in all, this was an incredible trip. Yes, there were times when it was a shame that I was travelling alone, and yes, it was rather expensive. But hey, I’m being paid a great amount to do very little, and I can now say that I’ve “done” France.