I am still waiting on my luggage. British Air has turned it over to a courier service, and we are trying to contact them to get a delivery date and time. In the meantime, I feel slightly like a prisoner here, since I don't want to not be home in case it arrives. That's really the only discomfort. I have enough clothes between what I packed in the carry on and what I shipped ahead. It's gorgeous here and I would like to be out exploring.
I have been taking pictures, but I am having issues with loading my photos in any place: on Facebook, on this blog, even attaching one to an e-mail. My landlord has a guy (even in southern France there are guys) who is English and can solve computer problems. I have e-mailed him and hope to have the issue resolved soon.
I did go out yesterday to the market. Like a fool, I never thought to really look at the map, so I was turned around. I went out a little after 9:30 in the morning, refreshed after many hours of needed sleep. There weren't many people about at first, but the closer I got to the Saturday market, the more pedestrians I encountered. I walked through the Porte des Jacobins....it's very narrow--just wide enough for perhaps one compact European car. Think of all the people who've passed through that gate into the city--and this isn't even the oldest part of Carcassonne.
The open air market is stunning. The whole Carnot square is taken up by vendors selling every conceivable fresh fruit and vegetable. Oh the colors!! There are people who make and sell cheese, artisanal breads, dried fruits and nuts, spices, and there was even a seafood table. The merchants are justifiably proud of their wares, and I can't wait for Tuesday, because they will be there again. I didn't tarry, because I needed to get back home in case the stupid bag arrived. I purchased some vegetables to make ragout and then went to Carrefour, the local "supermarket" to get some milk, eggs and coffee. And of course, I stopped at one of the boulangeries and got a fresh croissant and a baguette for dinner. Thus armed, I made my way back home--using the direct route this time. Only problem was, I lost my house!!!! How in the hell could an entire apartment building just disappear? Turns out, after several passes up and down the street, I was on the WRONG side of the street! I should be embarrassed, and I am, a little. But in my defense, I was so bloody tired when I'd arrived there the day before to really pay attention. And remember, I started out by saying that I was turned around. I have decided to tell the truth in this blog, no matter how it makes me look. So there you have it. I finally figured it all out, and made my way inside and back up the stairs to my apartment.
The apartment is bigger than I'd anticipated. Also, it's light-filled and a perfect temperature for me. I can keep the windows thrown open to the world, which is how I like them. No flies, and certainly no danger of intruders, not this far from the ground. As I write this, I have my shirt drying in the sun over the balcony railing. There's a sort of window seat where I can write, have my coffee and watch the world pass by. For such a little street, rue de Pont Vieux is pretty busy, and got rather lively on Friday night. It goes to the Old Bridge (now pedestrian only) across the Aude river, at the base of the olf Cite. I haven't been down that way yet, but hope to do so tomorrow. After the luggage arrives.
I went out again today, very briefly, for more staples and a newspaper. There is a tabac right on the corner, and the woman in there this morning was so friendly and helpful. We conversed all in French. (where in the US I was from, what I did for a living, where I was staying and why was I doing this) All of my conversations with the shopkeepers and clerks and the farmer at the market have all beeen in French. When I tell them that I am just arrived, that I am from the US and am here to learn to speak their lovely language, they have all been quick to smile and offer encouragement. There is a butcher shop two doors down and two more doors closer to the square is a traiteur, selling prepared foods--as in one of those fabulous roast chickens...I am sure that I will get to know those people by their first names.
Almost everything was closed, unlike Sundays in the US. I managed to get in to Carrefours in their Sunday limited window of opportunity. There is a swap meet/flea market in the place at the end of the street--it would seem that everyone the world over loves to look for a bargain among the junk. Maybe I will just unload all my earthly goods there when I am ready to come back.
But for now, I will take my newspaper and my French-English dictionary and proceed to read the Sunday paper, while seated on the window seat and finishing my coffee. The headlines talk of a demonstration against Monsanto and the dangers of fake medications being sold on the Internet...I did read the article about the guy from Toulouse who bought fake Viagra. All because he wanted to keep up with his copine. Took one little blue tablet, and got terrible headaches and nosebleeds. He wanted to warn everyone else. There is so much to read, and so much to see; it feels like there just aren't enough hours in the day.
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I would welcome any insight.