Four months ago, everyone in the Lausanne program got on a plane to go to Portugal for a week. The idea of an “Educational Field Trip” is brilliant, bringing all the students together to experience a city and country together. Four months ago, Europe was still fairly new to me, as were the people I lived with. But last week, we all went on the EFT to Marseille, France, and everything felt right.
We took a train early in the morning to get to Marseille by midday. Everyone sleepily boarded, but I was wide awake. Despite only getting four hours of sleep due to my procrastination on packing, I was excited and had quite a bit of energy. We arrived in Marseille to sunshine and congregated at a restaurant right next to the Old Harbor. Following that, we boarded buses and drove around the city. We drove up to a cathedral that was the highest point in Marseille. Looking over the city and the water was stunning, and it was fun to see from above all the things we would do later in the week.
We spent three nights in Marseille, although one day was spent in Aix-en-Provence. The towns in the South of France were relatively small, and easily explorable. Things were a little quieter since it’s technically off-season, but we still managed to find things to do. Groups of us went out at night, finding Irish pubs wherever we were. On Wednesday, we took a boat out to the Frioul archipelago, and docked at a tiny island off the coast of Marseille. The weather was warm and comfortable, but the water was freezing. I didn’t even bother getting in, especially after watching those who did emerge shaking and shivering. I picked up some pieces of seaglass, which was in abundance on the sand. My mom and I love to search for the smoothened, foggy glass remnants that have been weathered and resurfaced from the waves of the ocean. There were so many different colors, and I wondered where they all came from, what bottle they were once a part of, and how long the ocean had been churning it. Looking at these little jewels from the sea, I marveled at how such simple beauty could come from something that was once rough and overlooked.
We left Marseille to drive up to Avignon, making a couple stops along the way. The first was in Arles, which was once home to Vincent van Gogh. We walked along the same streets he did, and we stopped by a hospital he spent time at and painted. After seeing van Gogh’s works in Amsterdam and around the continent, it was fascinating to see where he spent his time. After, we carried on up north, stopping at a tiny cobblestone town called Beaux-en-Provence. There was one main road, and we followed it up to ruins of an old chateau. We climbed up to the top of it and looked over the beautiful French countryside. I could see for miles, and the sun shone brightly down on our place in the world.
We arrived in Avignon that evening, and were released to go get dinner and do as we please. We found a square lined with restaurants, and combined several tables in the middle to have dinner with a group. Our friends passed by the square, stopping to chat and make plans for later. When we were done, many of us congregated at the pub right across the street from our hotel. We piled into booths and shared stories and conversations, and I felt so grateful to be sharing this experience with these people. We have very little choice of the people we encounter in life. They come as a result of the choices we make for our location and residence and career path. But it is a special thing when the people we find ourselves surrounded by are the people we also want to be with. I’ve really come to love the group of people I’m surrounded by here in Lausanne, and that’s a cool thing to be able to say.
Friday was the end of the group trip, but we had the option to keep traveling through the weekend. We decided to go up to Paris, and make our way to Normandy. We got in late Friday night, and found our perfect AirBnB right on the Seine river. We could the Eiffel Tower from where we were staying, and my heart swelled with joy as we watched my favorite landmark sparkle against the night sky. Paris, even for a few hours, is always a good idea.
We spent Saturday out in Normandy. The train only went as far as Caen, a town about forty-five minutes away from the beaches. So we rented a car, since the bus schedule was limited due to it being winter. The car was a manual, and I was the one who knew how to operate it. It felt different than my Mini back home, but being behind a wheel again was so exciting. I figured out the clutch pretty quickly, and didn’t stall once. After many traffic laws ignored and broken, we made it onto the freeway, and drove through rain and sun to get to Point du Hoc. It was surreal to see the cliffs and the ocean that our soldiers approached from. The part that was most interesting, to me, was the American cemetery. Thousands of white-cross gravestones, each bearing a name of a lost soldier, stretched across as far as we could see. As hard as it was to see, and even more difficult to fathom, I kept thinking about my visit to Dachau. After seeing the atrocities brought about by Hitler, it was clear to me why America had to join this war. It breaks my heart to know that such evil is possible and present in the world, but it gave me a deep sense of pride to know we overcame it, to know that good won. I watched the American flag wave against the blue skies, and I felt proud of my homeland.
The next morning, we spent a few hours in Paris, and I finally got to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. I said goodbye to one of my favorite places in the world, promising I would return as soon as I possibly could. We grabbed our stuff and jumped on the metro, later than we had planned. I watched the clock as we made stops, and calculated that we would have fifteen minutes to get from the metro stop to the train station, a little over half a mile. We walked quickly with our heavy backpacks, trying to figure out where exactly to go. The station came into sight, and our pace quickened. Unsurprisingly, we began to run. We got into the station and pushed through the crowds of people. A wrong turn down a hallway led to us doubling back, and sprinting as hard as we could. We saw our train, and boarded it with three seconds to spare. As we walked through the entire train (our seats were in the very last car), we heard an announcement saying there were technical problems with train. We ended up leaving an hour later on a different train, making us feel really glad we ran (just kidding). We made it though, and after the panting subsided, we laughed as we pictured ourselves running like idiots through everyone.
As I write this, I am looking ahead to the next forty-eight days I have here. Five more weekends trips, then finals, then home. It scares me a little, to think of everything changing again. I’m registering for classes and figuring out housing, and determining what I’ll be doing this summer for a job. I want to be present as much as possible, but the future demands some planning. Then again, it’s 45 degrees and sunny today, so maybe I’ll just sit outside and enjoy the view of the Alps while I can. The world can wait, right?
finding my place 