Bonjour!
So, I know this blog entry has taken me a while to post. No, I did not get lost in the wilds of France. I am very much alive.
So we're going to rewind a wee bit to last Wednesday... I was finally dragged to climbing class with mes freres. Oh. My. Lord. Heights are not my thing. Neither is bring strapped into a tiny little harness and dangling in the air, leaving my life in the hands of my easily distracted brothers. Once I got past the initial frozen terror, I learned it helped to uttera little curse every few feet or so. Of course, I made sure to follow each of these with a little prayer for forgiveness ( I do go to a catholic school, it felt necessary) so I'm pretty sure if I had fallen, I woulda just hit the floor instead of just continuing right on through to H E doublehockeysticks. And really, it was kinda fun until I had to get down. Because, of course, everyone forgot the tiny little detail of telling me HOW TO DO THAT. Like, seriously? Oh, what's that you're yelling at me? Throw myself off the wall? Sure. Except I'd kinda like to be able to walk for the rest of my life, and this harness is not going to help that dream.
Also, if you ever decide to go to a climbing school, DO. NOT. SIT. DOWN. Because those harnesses not only prevent you from having kids, they also successfully define everything used to make them. And when you sit, it's all eye level. Like, no thank you. Especially all you old men out there. Probs for you for climbing walls at the ripe young age of 90, but hey, if the rest of us want to live to that age, and traumatizing us really won't help us get there with solid mental health.
Saturday morning was probably one of the sickest things ever. Benoit took is flying! Woot woot! I thought I'd be terrified, but it was actually sic. Not that I'm a fan of the tiny little plan four grown people were shoved in. I mean, I love my family here and all, but ohhhh lord, was that ever a squeeze. Not to mention the steering shift between my legs that followed the movement of the on Benoit was controlling. About half way through I realized if I twisted in the direction the plane was heading, I could probably avoid most of the bruises. Oh, and that as a lot easier to do accompanied with my little airplane noises. Speaking of which, I posted a video of the take off. Now, I don't know if you can hear it, but I hada little on going monologue. It included singing lines from every song I could think of that was about flying while every so often whispering, "look ma, I can fly!". Never in my life have I so wanted to quote Peter Pan. This was all good and well, until I remembered the microphone in front of my mouth.... And the fact that everything I was saying was going straight through the audio set up and into Benoit's head phones. Safe to say, I continued my one woman broadway show in my head after that.
But honestly, flying was amazing. Benoit let me fly for a bit. Shhh, I can get kicked out of the exchange program for that. But hey, what can I say? I'm a rebel. Anyway, it's not like I flew for that long. After the first nosedive, we all decided o was better off just sitting back and enjoying the ride. And I did. Everything actually looks like little toys from in the sky. All the little frenchy houses with their little frenchy swimming pools and frenchy roads. I just wanted to be a giant toddler and pick them all up and move them around! Anyway, we went back to the Pyrenees mountains. Basically I spent the whole time with my mouth hanging open while Thomas kept up a running commentary... " now if you'll look out your window, you'll see the 32nd highest peak of this mountain range, and if you look over there, you can see our 5th cousins aunts husbands third wife's castle". Castles and mountains... Yep, that pretty much France. And the weird thing is, my family is a literal mountain encyclopedia... They can tell which mountain is which just by looking at it, how tall it is, and when was the last time one of their family members climbed it. Pretty crazy stuff.
So flying was a spectacular experience, right up until the air currents picked up and Benoit decided to nose dive to a vi.lage to show me his friends house. At that point, I found myself debating whether to pick up the barf bag as a precaution, or if that would worry everyone a bit too much. Luckily, we landed soon after, without my unleashing my lunch all over the tiny little airplane.
The next day, we went to a tree strolling place. I don't know what it's actually called, but that's what I call it, because that's what my family made it sound like. You know, just a casual little stroll through some boardwalks and ladders. No. Oh no. It was more like a, "dangle from this bungee while walking on this cord with nothing to hold onto while 5 meters in the air. And hey, while you're at it, jump through these hurdles and swing from this rope. Oh, and then attach yourself to a pulley system and fly to the ground" place. Perfect for the girl terrified of heights. I honestly think theyre trying to make me die of terror with all these things. Oh, and ere were more harnesses, which producedthe same problems as climbing class. The one thing that truly brightened my mood was the fact that we had to put on jumpsuits that made us look like ghost busters. Not going to lie, everytime i was strolling down an empty path, I did myself a little fancy and belted out the theme song. Definately have a career on broadway in my future, guys. Prepare thy selves.
Also at the climbing place, their was this sic maze. The catch? It was all in pitch black. Positively terrifying, but one of those times when my incessant need to babble incoherently came in handy. Made it easier for them to find me everytime I ended up in a ball in a corner! I jokes, but there were a few times, like squeezing between two super close walls, made a a little claustrophobic, as well as made me wish I'd skipped the cake at lunch, and hadn't even tried the French bread when I got here. But, after walking into multiple walls and army crawling for a solid ten minutes, I made it out alive. I think that was only because the ghost buster suit gave me some standards to live up to.
By the end of the day though, I'd come out of my shell, by which I mean my ghost busters suit, and was swinging highland mighty like Indiana Jones himself. Well, that might of had something to do with the rather good looking boys I discovered crawling all over the place, but lets not dwell on that.
So all in all, it was a pretty solid week. Filled with harnesses and heights, but still pretty good. I'm yet to be completely traumatized, and seeing as there's only one more month to go, I should return to you pretty much in the same shape, if a few pounds heavier. But hey, have you tried the bread here? I swear to god, they put some wonky addictive stuff in it. So do me a favour? Don't mention the more rounded waist I'm sporting these days. Maybe if we just ignore it long enough, it'll go away. Or maybe I'll just have to buy a ghost buster suit and climb it off.
Anyway, I've got a big two weeks ahead of me. Stranglers concert tonight ( don't ask, I have no idea who they are either), then to the ocean for a week. After that, we're heading up to Paris for another week. No words for the amounts of "pumped" running through my veins. Of course, that could just be the excitement for the ridiculous amount of Easter chocolate in the cupboards, but hey, what can I say? When in France, do as the French do... Of eat, in this case!
Humongous bisous darling little Canadian folk! I'll be seeing y'all soon, only a month to go before you get to see my wonderful self and I get to see all your lovely little faces! Try not to die of excitement before I make it there! Oh, and shout out to my cousin Justin, cuz he's pree cool I guess.
Much ghostbustin' love,
Emma.