Météo: Rainy.
French: Dark colors. Preferably black. Boots. Scarves.
Météo: Partly cloudy.
French: See above.
Météo: Sunny, warm.
French: See above. Add sunglasses to 1/5 of population.
Since it was a bit breezier than I thought, I changed into shorts and a longer sleeved shirt before I went downtown to find the carnaval. I walked all over the centre-ville of Angers, and nothing. There were lots of small children in costumes and people selling balloons, but nothing was going on. Confused, I met Amy and Liana and we walked about 85.7 kilometers (or 3 gallons, 4 ounces) to the Parc Balzac to try to find the mysterious, adorable red Scottish cows.
After confirming the current location of the red cows, we drifted another mile over to the Lac de Maine park, where there were lots of French people. We saw a little farmhouse, and in its fenced-in field were donkeys, two of whom were HUGE and shaggy. They scared me, actually. They were as big as horses, and had long, dreadlocked fur with huge, heavy heads. Amy tried to say that maybe regular donkeys had mated with the furry Scottish cows. Whatever Amy, April Fool's was Friday.
We sat down in a shady spot and were promptly approached by two young French guys (one burre,or Arab, and one French-African). I guess I shouldn't say 'we' were approached, because it was obviously Amy they were interested in. For some reason, she attracts them. Can't say I'm jealous. They wanted to "talk for two minutes," and then proceeded to sit down, ask for our names, if we had MSN messenger or Facebook (we feigned ignorance) and about the US. They weren't creepers, but they were intruding on our grass-nappage.
Totally pooped (we had been out and about in the park for at least 4 hours), we headed back into town and parted ways. On my way home, I heard a huge commotion in the Place du Ralliement, a big, pretty square. I followed the noise, and found-
LE CARNAVAL
I had the best time, squished in with all those Angevines. The parade had a real community feel, and was really laid back, with entertainers and sideline-watchers interacting, hugging, taking pictures, or being attacked by confetti. I had an older man dressed like a soldier through a fistful in my face, and I was secretly pleased, because I got to be part of the party, too, though I got it all over me.
I took too many photos, and got some absolutely precious ones of the kids. Being a kid in France must be sweet. Snack time at 4pm is almost mandatory, the playgrounds have really fun, dangerous looking installations, and you only go to school a half-day on Wednesday.
I'm going to upload a photo page of the parade on my "faux pas" page, if you want to see it. It was so nice to have fun like the French with the French. I haven't gotten a speck of homework done today, but I think having a fun, away-from-it-all weekend was worth it.
Bah im sad I missed this. I saw all the confetti in the streets on the way home...
ReplyDeleteawe same. we need to find a crazy french parade. fo sho.
ReplyDeleteLeah, I don't know your email address, but I've sent an email to your mom which I hope she'll pass on to you. I'd just like to say thank you here for the bag you sent on behalf of the Hayes ladies. There's more in the email. Thanks again!
ReplyDelete