Gavarnie

Intensive language classes started last week. I tested into the highest level of French offered, so I don't think I'll be bored in class. Exhausting as it is to spend 20+ hours a week sitting in a classroom, the subjects are varied between culture, geography, art history and literature. Very little grammar or conversation work, and only a smattering of homework.

I have been in France for over a month now, and I think I can finally say I have adequately adjusted to Pau. It feels like I left the U.S. months ago, and yet still have an eternity until I come back. I know the day but not the date; I look at my map less frequently; I can follow the conversation at the dinner table. I make preliminary plans for weekends in Barcelona and Amsterdam. After many minutes spent perusing the wine aisle of the grocery store, I buy a bottle of Jurançon, the local white, and make risotto with seasonal mushrooms and emmenthal cheese. I ride my bike downtown to meet friends for a drink. I allow myself to relax and do nothing except listen to rain on the roof.

I caught my first cold of the year on Thursday. It hasn't been debilitating, but my lacking lung capacity and sinus pressure rendered a hike in Gavarnie (2 hours east of Pau) more difficult. Still, Gavarnie was beautiful; its yellowing trees reminded me of Colorado. No spectacular peaks in sight thanks to the low clouds and light rain, but we still spent a good two and a half hours on the trail towards the biggest waterfall in France. And before the hike, we ate duck soup (deliciously salty and just what I wanted) at a restaurant in town. Several tourist shops lined the street leading to the trail, but I bought nothing except a postcard. So has been my experience in France thus far--I've spent lots of money on food, but hardly anything on souvenirs. I'd rather enjoy what I can't bring back to the U.S., such as cheese and soup, and forgo the tacky snowglobes and keychains.