On Sunday I went out to the Abbé de Fontevraud with the other AFSers of the Tours area (although a few people from outside Tours came, it still wasn't all of the Centre students). It was a nice visit-- the abbey itself was beautiful in a sad, old-building-that-hasn't-been-restored-faithfully kind of way, and the birds were quite lovely and absolutely unafraid of people (one of them kept flying into the windows of the parked car when we were still in it, and there were swallow nests in the eaves of almost all the buildings and flitted in and out, though I seemed to be the only one that noticed them). In any case, it was nice to see everyone again and see how everyone was doing.
Monday we got out at eleven (technically, we weren't out until two, but we didn't have any classes after eleven) and went to the Salle Oesia to rehearse one last time before the performance. We spent a lot of time hanging around and running lines and trying not to stress, since there were two other theater groups that needed to rehearse on the stage as well. We also ordered pizza, since we decided that the sandwiches we'd brought were not sufficient (little did we know what was to pass in the next several days...). Finally, after nearly six hours of waiting (we got there at two and the performance wasn't until quarter to eight), the show began.
The Premiere Facultatif went before us (the other theater group that runs for fewer hours per week); they put on 'Le Nuit des rois,' which is the French title for 'Twelfth Night.' It was a fair performance; they didn't speak loudly enough for the most part, since they were used to rehearsing in smaller rooms where you don't have to shout to have the back row hear you, so I had trouble understanding what they were saying sometimes. After that was the Writers' Workshop, which was really funny and cleverly done. Each of the students had a different style in reading their pieces, and at the end they read rejection letters, which they tore up and then stormed from the stage. I think it was my favorite performance of the evening (besides our own, of course).
Finally, it was intermission and with butterflies galore, we put up the set for the first of our short plays. I wasn't in it, but I watched from backstage and it was done really well. I was really nervous up until the moment where we walked on stage-- from there it went so smoothly, we might have been in rehearsal but for the brightness of the light. Everything went perfectly, no problems, and we rushed once the lights went down to change for the next short play. I had literally less than a minute and hadn't quite finished putting on my heels when the music started-- my cue that I had about ten seconds. Luckily I made it out in time and did my little bit as the TV show host without a problem. The play (Inventaires) went well-- there was only one point when one person forgot their lines, but she covered it pretty well (people told us later that they couldn't decide if she'd really forgotten or if it was part of the scene) and there were no troubles from there. I noticed afterwards though that, in the rush to change, I'd forgotten to take a barrette in the shape of a butterfly from the previous scene out of my hair; I hope it wasn't too noticeable (it was a big butterfly). Everyone commented on my dress, though-- the French teacher went so far as to come up to me afterwards and say that she wanted one like it (I know she was kidding, though).
I missed the chance to get a seat for the Terminals' performance because I spent too much time chatting backstage with people, so I went out to the lobby and listened to a book on tape instead while I waited for the performance to end and Catherine to come and take me home. We got in at about eleven thirty-- I made Rice Krispie treats for the class and a sandwich for myself for lunch the next day, and then I went to bed for three hours.
Susan's father picked me up at ten to four and we were at school within ten minutes (the roads were completely dead so early in the morning). We were delayed slightly in leaving by one student forgetting her identity card and letter of permission to leave the country at home, but finally, we made it off fine, only about ten minutes late.
Most everyone slept most of the ride-- I woke up at around six-thirty when the sun started to rise and couldn't get back to sleep for more than a few seconds of dozing. I remember listening to my audiobook for at least an hour but I can't remember any of what I listened to. At around nine we stopped at a rest station somewhere in Basse Normandie (we never figured out exactly where) and I bought myself a cup of coffee flavored with Milka chocolate, which definitely perked me up.
At around eleven we reached the coast and took the Chunnel to jolly old England (again, I don't know exactly where we crossed). After another three hours' drive, we arrived in London feeling still quite tired but in general more perky from having eaten and from having arrived.
We were dropped off at the youth hostel, Journey's King's Cross, and given time to arrange our things a little in our rooms before we set out for the evening. To describe it, I'm going to borrow the paragraph written about the hostel from the little itinerary packet the teachers had prepared for us (this is a direct quote; no translation):
"You thought you had enlisted a four star trip to London? YOU WERE SO RIGHT!!!! Prepare to eat the best sandwiches you ever dreamt of and this for the next 6 days. You will be staingat the classiest hostel of the CITY, well known for its small rooms (8 persons per bed [this is crossed out and room is written in its place]) and its private high-tech bathrooms (6 showers for 218 tourists and endless hot water from 4.15 to 4.30 a.m). Your tour leaders have selected the best mean of transportation ever: YOUR OWN FEET... Think about it: no problem of car park, no time wasted waiting for the bus, no huge amounts of money lost in the subway fare...........and the best speed to enjoy the scenery! So what do you think? Aren't you the luckiest students at Vaucanson?"
Funny, but no joke. We nine girls in Premiere were all packed into a room together, sleeping on three-tier bunkbeds, with no room to open our suitcases fully, windows that didn't really open at all, drunkards fighting in the streets at night, glass-fronted showers for the whole floor with freezing water...it was a lucky thing that we were really only there to sleep; otherwise, I think we would have killed each other after the second day.
After choosing a bed and throwing our bags on top of it, we set out for Camden, which is exactly the kind of neighborhood I want to live in someday. It was pretty much hipster heaven (I swear, there must have been a retro clothing store on every corner). After exploring for about an hour, we had our lovely dinner of sandwiches in the square (as it was) and from there went to Shaftesbury Theater to watch Hairspray.
I wasn't at all familiar with the musical beforehand except for the hazy memory of it coming out as a movie with John Travolta in it last year. It was pleasant enough for all that-- the peppy music kept us awake, in any case. Musicals aren't generally my cup of tea, but I enjoyed it well enough despite myself. I think that the entire class was singing 'You Can't Stop the Beat' and 'Good Morning, Baltimore,' for the rest of the week. In fact, they were still singing it on Monday.
By the time it was over, it was past ten, so, duly exhausted, we trooped back to the hostel and went to bed. Which is where I'm going to leave it for right now, since it's about the same time as I'm writing this and unfortunately I have to go to school tomorrow. I'll try to get the rest of the trip up tomorrow, though-- I get out at one since it's a Wednesday, so I should have plenty of time to finish up.
'Til tomorrow!
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