Les vacances, et maintenant?

Since I last posted, I have done many things. Well, I've done a lot of things compared with the rest of the year, when I have worked twelve hours a week and drunk a lot of coffee.

Anyway.

It was, yet again, les vacances. I swear there are more holidays here than I have ever experienced, although that's probably a lie. The beginning of the holidays meant packing, a quick dash back to Homeville where I was fed a large roast dinner, unpacking, repacking, a drive to Gatwick where I met some wonderful orchestra-y friends of mine, a week in Croatia, back to Gatwick, another quick dash home where I was fed casserole (see the connection between home and OVEN?), then back to France, and now suddenly it's the end of the holidays.

Phew.

I should probably go a bit slower.

Going home for a few days was lovely, even if a bit strange as it's so close to me actually going back for good (more on this later). My mum excelled herself with oven-cooked food, as she so often does, and my dad proved himself to be extra amazing as he agreed to drive me to Gatwick in the middle of his work day.

Gatwick involved wandering around for a bit, and making my way to the train station to meet a certain girlfriend, only for said girlfriend to come out of a different, secret entrance, meaning we missed each other altogether. So much for romance, eh? We found each other eventually, I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear. And then we found the wonderful people who are the Exeter University Chamber Orchestra. On purpose, I should add. It wasn't some happy accident. What followed was a wonderful week filled with music, frivolity, culture, and wine. Lots of wine.

Zagreb really is a beautiful city in a beautiful country, and I strongly recommend you go there. Yes you, all of you.

It was a truly wonderful week and a great break. Many thanks must go to the Orchestra for letting me crash, even if I did prove useful (Tour Mum now and forever) in the end.

After another dash home (with help again from Papa GemmaLouise), it was time to return, for the last time, to my little corner of Caen.

Mixed feelings? Just a bit. There's a part of me that just wants it to be over now. Having the holidays so close to finishing, and now coming back for two weeks is weird. This part of me wants to go home, to see the people I love most in the world, to actually be able to see and speak to people without it costing an arm and a leg. This part of me feels like I should just have packed up and left when the holidays started.

It's at this point that the other part of me starts screaming its head off. This part of me doesn't want to leave, doesn't want to go back to 'normal', doesn't want to pack up an entire year again to have to start again in another place again. This part wants to stay here, in the bread-baking, bisous-giving wonder that is France, and never go back.

See what I mean?

Whatever happens, I am leaving this corner of the world in less than two weeks. Before then, I have got a million-and-one things to sort out. And that may not be an exaggeration. But I'm not going to bore you with that now. Instead, I'm going to give you a picture of a really happy frog:

Biz.