So we went to France. I won’t tell you where exactly, but if you can be bothered, work it out from the pic.
So what happened on the journey (if you haven’t read the previous post, click the link)? Ah yes… a feud that has yet to be resolved (still time to vote people!) , a banana split, and not very souveniry souvenirs.
And the Harlem Shake. But that’s irrelevant.
Anyway, we got out of the Eurotunnel and back into the coach. We weren’t quite at Calais (this isn’t anonymous town, not quite there yet), and still had a bit to go. We filled in our booklet (yay, education!) and if my memory serves me, looked at loads of fields – flat by the way, very flat.
When we got to Calais, it was around lunch and we went to a restaurant imaginatively called ‘Flunch’ (I don’t get how they can have a restaurant specialising in French lunch in France. Like having a self-proclaimed ‘English restaurant’ in England. I’m sure my friends explained this to me, but I can’t remember a thing. o_O)
Everyone had already pre-ordered their lunches, but being allergy ridden, I had my own pack lunch and can’t say much for the food.
Even still, I had been given a lot, and was pressurised to eat it all (by my mum); by the time almost everyone had left to go to the supermarket, I was still there. Slightly worried, I left with Patrick.
Following our booklet (yay, education! This is probably starting to grate, isn’t it? ;)) we asked questions like ‘Where is the bread?’ and ‘How much is that baguette?’
So I did by a souvenir in France… but it got eaten. I brought some nougat for my sister, and ended up carrying it in my hands, and then my pockets in lack of a better place to put it. I WENT THROUGH MANY TRIBULATIONS TO GET THAT NOUGAT. And then it was eaten.
Even then I never used my French speaking skills. I
chose to go went to the self-service till as it had an English option as I was unfamiliar with the technology and wanted to try it out.
I was also warned by my French teacher that ‘they may try and wrap your bag in clingfilm before you enter the store. o_O Confused…
Clearly the technology has moved up a notch since the last time she’d been to France, or maybe things were different in Calais, because instead, the man clipped two of the zips of my backpack together; in essence, he made sure I couldn’t open my bag. It turns out they do this in most French stores, as they don’t want people to smuggle things out of the shop. Pockets anyone?
Then we explored the shopping centre. As I had no money left, I was just tagging along. The first thing we asked when we saw someone was ‘Parler vous anglais?’ which shows just how ambitious we were vocabulary wise.
We spent ages trying to find a souvenir shop for someone else. We asked one of the people in our class who was practically French (he lived in the French part of Switzerland, but you know…) to ask for directions. Even with him as a guide, we took a while, as ‘the directions weren’t very clear’. When we did get there, we found it was more of an odd shop than a souvenir shop, with those leftovers that no one really wanted to buy on a fashionable shopping spree but that everyone needed to have – like cooking pots or frying pans. There were some rubbers and other souvenir-esque things, but nothing to catch the attention. Oh well. It was a good time waster.
I think we just walked around apart from that, occasionally bumping into friends. We had forty minutes, but having blown most of my change on the nougat, it felt too long. It was satisfying though – in a lacklustre, laid back way. Not quite fun – but definitely satisfying. Like I spent the time well.
Eventually, we got back onto the coach, and finally arrived at mystery town. Here I can have a long break in the story, as we walked through town with a tour guide, who was slightly irritating and said many things that don’t deserve a place here. Occasionally something interesting happened, like when she pointed out the cannonballs stuck in some of the houses and I saw that really cool guy who posed as a statue for money (he wasn’t an attraction, but he was a good thing to take a photo of), but other than that, standard fare tourism stuff.
We were left at a cathedral, which I can’t remember the name of (good thing too, you might look it up and find the location of mystery town). It was gloomy, very modern and breathtaking. I won’t waste 1000 words taking up space, because I have a picture. :)
So then… well that’s pretty much it. But the best is yet to come.
I still see it in my dreams.
That ominous horse, with a metal spring for legs and a deceivingly childish exterior.
The slide and climbing wall, always the popular guys in primary school.
The playpark is coming… THE PLAYPARK IS-
[end of transmission]
P.S. Sorry if you were a bit weirded out by the ending, I just felt like being random. o_O The playpark was actually really fun. The horse/springy thing in particular was terrifying. It was only meant for 2-8, and due to our weight it could twist almost horizontally. Call me a wimp, but I couldn’t take more than 20 seconds of it.
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Easter Egg special
Pros and Cons of the GONE series (I’m hoping to do more book posts like this).