The Gallivanting Grasshopper: My New French Family -- Toulon

After clogging up the aisle for a very awkward ten minutes, I managed to make my way to seat 43 on coach 16 of my train to Toulon. I took out my cheese and sausage, wrapped my valuables bag around my waste, and turned my face to the sun-heated window. I've grown very fond of quietly staring out the windows of planes, trains and buses. I used to feel guilty when traveling without reading, knitting, listening to an informative podcast, or doing something else equally productive/stimulating. Now I peacefully, contentedly, happily stare out windows. Even if all I see are the taillights of the car in front of the coach or the clouds underneath the plane.

I stared out the window for about two hours, soaking in the sun on the pane and the azure coastline of Southern France.

I'll probably be talking about the sun a lot in the upcoming posts. It's been so absent in my life the past few months, and it's going to take a few days to work through the shock of seeing a brilliant, golden, warm orb in the blue sky nearly every day. So expect some sun ecstasy. I'll blame it on a vitamin D overload.

Caroline said she'd meet me at the bus station, which was quite the relief. I was quite finished flailing around France for one day, merci beaucoup. However, thanks to the bus/train confusion in Nice, I'd completely forgotten that I'd told Caroline she could identify me by my green hat. So when I arrived in Toulon, I was not wearing my green hat. Just outside the station, I glimpsed a woman I was 90 percent sure was Caroline, but she didn't look as if she recognized me. So I stood and half-way stared in that awkward "do we know each other?" sort of way until we realized that we did indeed know one another. The gorgeous, slender, energetic, charming young frenchwoman was Caroline -- my host in Toulon for the next few weeks.

She drove me to her tidy, classy, cute apartment (a ten minute walk from the ocean), and I immediately felt right at home. Green crocodile, pink giraffe and orange fish slippers peeked out from underneath the sleek white sofa. The espresso machine in the corner of the dining room, the professional kitchen aid by the stove, and the view from the balcony all played their parts in convincing me that this was going to be a remarkable placement.

After spending a few minutes settling into my office bedroom, Caroline and I walked the ten minutes to Alessandro's preschool to pick him up from his after-school program. I've never seen a happier looking facility, and proof of its effectiveness was that Alessandro had to be pried away from the table at which he sat contentedly coloring.

Alessandro is three years old, endlessly energetic, extraordinarily intelligent, is chocked-full of personality, and is extremely polite. I'm quickly falling in love with this child.

My first weekend in Toulon consisted of visiting a local market, a couple of local beaches, an excellent nearby restaurant, familiarizing myself with the apartment and getting to know Alessandro. This kid already knows exactly who he is and what makes him tick. Seriously. He understands himself better than I understand myself, and I've got 19 years on the little guy. He knows that he loves to have his forearm lightly scratched -- it practically puts him into a trance. He knows that he has to sleep with his stuffed cow in his arms and his stuffed tiger at his feet. He knows that he does not like it when people say, "see you later!" when he goes to take a nap. One must always say, "see you tomorrow!" regardless of when the nap is taking place. He loves cars, motorcycles and policemen. He can name the model of practically any car he sees. He is capable of watching the same Dora the Explorer video all day long.

At the market in Toulon. This market takes place every day of the week and is a ten minute walk from my host family's apartment. Yes please.

Alien cauliflower.

I love watching kids eat chocolate

Caroline told Alessandro not to touch anything, so he very politely put his hands behind his back the entire time he was in the store. The store owner was so impressed that she gave him a bright orange bouncy ball for being so darn good.

Toulon

Alessandro gave his mother a flower. He gave me one too, but my bootstraps aren't as sturdy as Caroline's and I lost my dandelion to the wind.

This is a very popular French game similar to horseshoes. You have to throw the small metal balls as close as you can to the smaller golden ball. Whoever gets closest wins. Oy.

A beach in Bandol

Yes, I'm that photographer...

Kings Day. I don't think it's a holiday specific to France, but I'm not sure. They celebrate the day the three wise men arrived to bestow the baby Jesus with gifts by eating cake with a present hidden inside. Whoever gets the present is the king for the day, and gets to pick his king/queen to reign beside him.