Trying to fit into Nantes

---

For whatever reason, I hate looking like a tourist. I always scolded my mother when she would take out a map and try to find out where we were, or where we were going, it immediately pegged us as tourists (Mom your still my favorite travel bud, don't worry). So being in Nantes by myself, it was a goal to be indiscreet and walk around like a normal citizen of the city.

After my first half hour of attempting not to look like a tourist, I had already failed miserably. I walked out of the airport and walked toward the bus stop. It seemed so simple when online, you just hop on a bus, and fifteen minutes later you are downtown. But they didn't tell you there would be 50 options at that particular bus stop. Standing there with my bags and probably looking exactly like the one thing I was intending not to, I tried to find the ONE bus I needed to find, and find it quickly. For I was morphing into the typical tourist! Finally on a bus to my far left the words "Centre Ville" had just scrolled by, it was like finding a nugget of gold. Step one, check.

I put my bags on the given racks, and plopped on down satisfied with my quick find. Then I heard some mumbled words aimed in my general direction. Turning my head, I saw the driver looking directly at me. I did the typical, me? With the point to the chest and look around. Yep. The driver picked me out and was addressing me. What the heck was he saying?! I have been studying French for the past year, but holy crap they talk fast and its all slurred I missed all of it.

Oh yeah. You actually have to pay for a ticket to ride the bus.
I grabbed my wallet and asked him how much? He mumbled something and again I missed it so I gave him a 20 hoping that it would cover the cost. Red faced and ticket in hand, I found my seat again. This foreign language thing wasn't going to be as easy as I thought.

The bus finally pulled into the Centre Ville...Once again I was stumped. I had saved the address of my apartment on my phone, but never thought about getting directions. Asking the already annoyed bus driver for the directions, I got a grunt and point in the right direction from the growing impatient bus driver. Merci. After about a two-mile walk along the river, I had to at least stop and glance at a map. A very quick glance. Surprisingly enough the apartment was only two blocks away. Sweaty, smelly and tired after a long, long day of traveling, I got to my room.

A hot shower, and a quick nap got prepared me to check out the city. Driving in I didn't think it was much. Commercialized, run down, dirty, it wasn't looking so good. Leaving my room, I thought it would be a good choice to walk to opposite way I had come, to seek out the beauty of the city. A few blocks in and there was the historic medieval city complete with cathedrals, cafes, boutique stores, smelly cheese stores, bakeries, and fancy clothing shops. It was amazing. There were also people everywhere, shopping, dinning, drinking coffee, reading, or chatting with friends. This is a great place to people watch, and that is exactly what I did-and had to do if I wanted to fit in and not look like a you know what.

I didn't want to embarrass myself ordering food at a cafe. Apparently there are two ways to do it, you can just sit down and a waiter will come and take your order, or you can walk up the bar and order right there. There are proper times to order at the bar or wait for the waiter, and I didn't have the slightest clue what the proper etiquette was at that time. So I tried watching fellow hungry people order. But none of them seemed to actually order; their food and beverages just seemed to appear out of no where. I must have missed the one thing I wanted to see. Dang. Sparing myself the embarrassment, I just kept on walking.

And walking. I passed beautiful streets, ones that were that had well kept public gardens with huge trees and neat flower beds, some that were closed down for the evening so people could walk down them without fear of being mowed down by the crazy French drivers, others were streets packed with people sitting outside under large umbrellas eating and drinking (none of the ordering), and some without a soul in sight. There were all kinds of people, couples holding hands, children chasing after brave birds, singles reading or writing, groups of young adults loudly clinking large classes of beer together and laughing, all enjoying a perfect early summer night.

Looking down at the clock on my phone I read 21:45. Doing quick mental math...9:45. I had to eat! Frustrated with this ordering process I just walked up to a cafe with a window presentation of their food, pointed to a fresh looking ham and cheese sandwich, paid and quickly walked away. Wandering all over the city had taken a toll on my feet and a beer seemed like the only cure. Walking by a small shop next to my apartment, I stopped in and bought a big Belgian beer to accompany the sandwich.

Satisfied with my makeshift meal, I laid in bed and quickly feel asleep to the sound of two French newscasters rambling off the events of day.

---

Photos

Lonely Road
I sent to these to my dad and he asked were all the people were. I promise they were there... They just didn't find my camera lens, or mine didn't find them.

Beckett's
Just like the one in Bowling Green right?