first day in Aix en Provence

We find ourselves on particular rue in aix en Provence. , to be exact rue bertjau in the center of the ville. It is a sunny day on the 27th day of 30 in this month. A taxi pulls up to numero 5, a narrow street leading to a narrow doorway. Natural wood stain door with brass handle. The woman gives the driver a huge amount of 40 euros and attempts to exit the voiture. It has been a long day; she brings on this excursion luggage weighing 50+ lbs, a backpack and a chien named tiger.

Just a few feet away, stand a man and a woman in discourse in front of a magasin. They might be expecting our visitor or not, we will soon find out. In the meantime, our protagonist exists and gathers all the belongings she will be dependent on for the next seven weeks in the cote d'azur.

The couple finishes their conversation and sees that someone is just getting off the cab. The woman makes gestures that indicate she is the landlady and that her tenant has arrived. Ending the conversation, she approaches the Americaine visitor and makes the introduction; having communicated many times via email it is a simple "enchante".

Ascending the stairs it is evident, the day's labors are not quite done. Three flights of stairs in a winding way end in a sunny floor, not the top but just one flight before it. The sun is brilliant and notion of gratitude is silently expressed to the clouds.

In the foggy state of travel, the entrance leads to the kitchen with huge windowpane windows. Leading to the living are and beyond to the rooms. Simple yet spacious this flat will be her station for almost three weeks. While the home's tour is made, the man that was accompanying the landlady buzzes and comes up for what it seems a tour of the apartment as well.

He is handsome as most French men are to the americaine. Classic styling, no specific features, tall and lean with an air of confidence. Pre-made and delivered inherent acceptability. As he wanders the apt, it is evident his height was not made for these living quarters. He has to lower his head in order to pass through the bedroom's doorway. As he departs, Sixtaine- the landlady-mentions her neighbor is around if anything is needed. Uncertain of anything at this point, the tenant thanks her and attempts to settle herself and her companion.

Frazzled and starved, as expected after 6+ hours on a plane and additional 4+ hours on a train, sixtaine was thoughtful to bring fruit and a croissant for mademoiselle. French hospitality is proving to be very acceptable.

And so as we end this encounter, this is not a documentation of life in France for an American or beginnings that often have endings but a tale of continuance. As life has proven, it is often in flux but always following the lines we draw. So we, well I the one holding the pen of expression, will attempt to detail my life in France as it unravels to fate having my hand and guiding me in another journey of exploration and education of life.