Heaven

While growing up in church, one of the first things I learned about heaven was that it was a place of rest. And I still believe that to be a fair description of the heaven above (after all, what else could it be?), but if there was one on earth, St-Brieuc would have to be pretty damn close. For those only think France = Paris, here's where I am:



And this is a bit of what it looks like (the background, not me):



I say it's heaven (or at least heaven-like) not because it has cheesily-gorgeous scenery, but because I feel as if I've finally found my respite. Paris was fun, but exhausting. And I don't know if it's b/c I'm getting older, but being in a hostel seemed to have lost its novelty. It was getting annoying, frankly, to be woken up in the middle of night by drunken hostelmates and heading to the bathroom to change b/c there were boys in the room.

So when I arrived in St-Brieuc (pronounced seine-bree-ooh) on Sunday afternoon after a pretty hellish train ride (courtesy of my oversized baggage), I was ready for some R&R. Fortunately, my contact teacher, Bronwen, and her husband Jean-Jacques, were waiting for me on the platform and helped me with the luggage. They brought me back to their place where I am currently staying indefinitely until I find my own place. This is what it looks like:






Basically, it's the cutest stinking place I've ever been in. I'll need to take pictures of the other houses around here, they are just charming beyond belief. It actually looks more like an Irish countryside (or at least how I imagine it to be) than "typical" France. One thing is for sure: hardly anyone speaks English. But they at least seem friendlier than Parisiens when I stumble through my French. Heh.

P.S. This morning, I got woken up by a rooster. An actual rooster. I chuckled.. then fell back asleep. O, what a heaven..