Hearsilla was Hippocampus’ own art car and her owner, Harley, had her licensed for day and night use. She had originally been a hearse, but with the addition of a dance floor, stripper pole, DJ box, red velvet couches, wings and disco ball, she morphed into something out of Priscilla Queen of the Desert. The photos speak for themselves. Carl had the idea to go out in the morning once everybody had finally passed out and the city was quiet. He went out by himself one morning on bike, but once he had Hearsilla up and running perfectly Harley gave [View Full Entry]

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I was invited last minute to go with a Boise Contingent to Burning Man, in the Black Rock Desert of Nevada. The event is more than just a massive art festival party, it’s a community. As we arrived the Greeters called out “Welcome Home”! Putting people out in the desert where they are accepted as themselves really brings out the best in people. It was a week of random acts of kindness. I loved the community feel: I don’t think I’ve ever felt safer. The city is built out of nothing every year, and the planning and logistics that go [View Full Entry]

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I thought I should blog Boise a bit, lest my readers elsewhere be under the impression that nothing exciting happens here. I quickly pulled out of my post-France funk and have been thoroughly enjoying my time at home before I set off again. My days are full of riding my bike along the Boise River and visiting friends. My evenings are booked with going out for one more drink with friends I won’t see in a couple years. I have managed to escape the heat in the valley a couple times and go up north of town to float the Payette [View Full Entry]

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If you want to read in English skip down to the bottom of the blog. It’s not a translation, but I did break out of the French eventually. Et oui, je suis rentrée encore une fois aux States. La première semaine il faut dire que j’étais très dépaysée, mais pas comme avant. Chaque fois que je pars de la France est un peu plus facile, probablement parce que je suis de plus en plus rassurée que je vais revenir. En plus, cette fois-ci je pense à mon voyage au Maroc en septembre et comment je vais vivre tout pres de la [View Full Entry]

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Throughout junior high and high school, before I even thought about living in France, I dreamed of Chamonix. It was all the snowboard videos, I know. I was hooked and when I realized AFS was going to let me live close to the Alps I knew I had to find some way to coerce my host family or somebody to take me there. Of course, the Montalons have always treated me, as Dad says, like a princess and I didn’t have to worry. They even let me bring my friend Elka along too. So when Gerard proposed that he and Maryse [View Full Entry]

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The account Mom wrote in her journal of today’s hike was so good I’m going to copy it down here with her permission and only slight editing. “This was the day to see the Vercors. Standard breakfast, then by 10:30 we were packed in the car and only stopped by the big grocery store for some picnic stuff. After scenic drives to Combe Laval and the Grand Goulet we stopped for a picnic at a biathalon training area. There was cheese, sausage, bread and wine for lunch with a melon at the end. Wonderful dark chocolate was melting in the sun. [View Full Entry]

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Once again my memory managed to wend our car through the streets of Tain l’Hermitage and to the road that meanders through Chantemerle on the way towards St Barthélémy de Vals. Just before you get to St Barthélémy you find yourself in Villeneuve: where the Montalons live. This was a moment I had been waiting for for years also: the meeting of two sets of parents. Though the Gerard and Maryse Montalon insist they are not my parents and that wasn’t the role they had during my stay at their house, I can’t find a better word for them. They are [View Full Entry]

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Though I technically lived in the department of the Drome at the Montalon’s house, my school and most of my friends were in Ardèche. Ardèche reminds me of Idaho and feels like home. It’s one of the poorer departments economically, with less infrastructure like roads and trains, and tends to be a forgotten little corner of France. Considering how often people think Idaho is in the Midwest (that’s Iowa), I understand the misunderstood and forgotten feeling. Actually, I kind of like it. While the Drome is more geographically diverse and beautiful in some respects, everybody know [View Full Entry]

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My friend Catherine managed to fly over from London for a quick visit while I was staying at Michèle’s. She was the English Teacher’s Assistant at my school Lycée Gabriel Faure during the 1999/2000 school year and she still agrees with the other teachers that my class was the worst they’ve ever had. Luckily she doesn’t hold it against me and, like a good teacher, realizes we weren’t really evil, just rambunctious. We spent a lovely day with my parents driving around Tournon and visiting wineries. Dad was on a wine mission and so we made our first stop at Chapout [View Full Entry]

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When we arrived in Cornas it was just as I had remembered. It’s a cute little town in the shadow of the château Crussols, close to the city of Valence, but on the west side of the Rhone River in Ardèche. The hills above are covered with vineyards of St. Joseph, and there are several caves (wineries) in town. Cornas wine is famous for being very hearty with lots of tannins and they say that if you leave a bottle to age long enough you’ll have to eat it with a spoon. I remembered exactly how to get to Michèle’s house, [View Full Entry]

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