hey! My new family have some family friends who also live in Rognes only a km down the road. The man of the house, Jean-Mark, is an actor in a French TV series called plue belle de la vie ( more beautiful of  life). I can’t really remember too many details but I think at the moment his character is in prison?! His wife, Katie, is a really lovely blonde petite lady who reminds me of Cameron Diaz (we’ve agreed to go jogging together!). They have two kids around 9 (girl whose name I forgot) and 11 (Lucio, the boy), and Jean-Mark has an older daughter  of 22 called Meilva who lives with her mum. On the weekend, Clem, Malo, Antoine (one of the twins and Clem’s best friend) and I went over to spend the evening with Meilva and her friend Camille(who are studying message therapy at university together and where visiting for the weekend), because Jean-Mark and Katie were out to dinner.  It was a night filled with music, dancing, pasta (with bolognaise made my Jean- Mark, a full blooded Italian) and lots more! I initially didn’t even think to take my guitar, but after some lovely persuasion my Clem and Malo, I drove back with Meilva to our house to get it. Probably the most hilarious thing of the night was when Clem was dancing with Malo and she lost balance and half sat/fell on a small decorative trunk/stylish storage box-thing on which the big old cat was peacefully sleeping.

At about 2 a.m. we made the hysterically terrifying walk home with only a flashlight to guide our way. Clem was leaving bruises on my arm, and when Malo flashed the torch into a large garden only to have a ghostly while woman staring back , I let rip the most high-pitched and piercing scream I could muster and Clem and Malo followed suit (until we realised it was a statue).

The next morning (well, almost afternoon by the time I rose from the dead), I had only 40 minutes to get ready for a neighbours lunch next door... literally next door - About a 25 metre walk from garden to garden. We were half an hour late and the last ones to arrive even though we lived the closest (he he he), and when we got there the door open to about 15 new people to greet. 30 kisses (“bonjour” *kiss, kiss) and 15 already-forgotten names later, we headed to the lounge room (or ‘salon’ in French) to feast on Champaign and pre-lunch snacks such as those weird puffed peanut chips, pate on toast with pickles, carrot sticks, wasabi peas, pistachio’s and potato chips. While the conversation casually drifted in one of my ears and out the other, I quietly dozen on Clem’s shoulder. In total there were three couples at the lunch - Marie and Thibault (my folks), Katie and Terri and the couple who owned the house, Emmanuel and Emmanuel. Because Emmanuel and Emmanuel had the same name, their nick names were Mano and Manie (I think). And then there was the tribe of kids...

Because I can’t really use my ears for information as much anymore, I have recognised that I watch what people do, and their characteristics. Terri had an absolutely hilarious some-what and ‘even’ laugh which allowed him to laugh for extended periods. Two ‘ha ha’ sounds would be while exhaling and the next two would be inhaling, so it was very rhythmical : ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha. Somewhere over the top of boisterous conversation and laughing you’d hear someone yell “OK, a la table!!” (to the table!). for entree there was about 6 different kinds of salad circulating the table. There was a bowl of roast capsicum with herbs totally submerged in olive oil. There was a Greek salad with cucumber, fetta, tomato, olive oil and balsamic vinegar, another with cabbage, cheese, pecan nuts, little cubes of ham and a scrumptious dressing, ...etc ...etc. we ate accompanied by a glass of rose... or two, and then out came the main meal, white rice and a big pot of some sort of chicken dish. After that, that BIGGEST bowl of fruit salad came out that I had ever seen. I have not eaten a decent fruit salad since I was in Aus with my mum (we used to do it for breakfast with yoghurt and muesli on top). Accompanying the fruit was another tray covered in a variety of biscuits and golden foil wrapped caramel wafers that I crumbled over both the bowls of fruit saladJ. After Marie was done filling everyone’s head with my music shenanigans, I was once again persuaded to go get my guitar (I’m not going to lie, I loved playing for people – so I was keen to get it, too). I had left my guitar at Jean-mark and Katie’s house the previous night because I couldn’t be bothered carrying it home, so Marie and I zoomed over there, retrieved it and returned to what became a little family concert! I played two songs, and then the daughter of the 2 Emmanuel’s who was 11, played a couple songs on her flute. Then the 16 year old brother cranked out his base guitar! It was some good times had.

Unfortunately my morning routine has been considerably altered. Previously, when I first came to my second family, we would get up at around 6:30 and then at precisely 7 Thibault would drive us to school. However, there was a healthy Family discussion the other night (ok, every family fights – its normal), so what I’m trying to say id that my family had an argument after dinner on Sunday night. I had no idea what they were talking about and realised I should probably say good night and leave them to it when I kept randomly laughing out loud. I headed up stairs, put on some beats and did some ridiculous yet intense bedroom dancing that if anyone had been watching.... haha I’d love to think of their reaction/expression.  About 25 minutes later all the kiddies cam upstairs, and that’s when I found out that that I would now be getting up at 6, leaving the house at 6:30 to walk to the bus stop and catch the bus at 7... FUN! I have decided that it’s beneficial though, because I get to do some exercise everyday!!! (Cup half full, Danika; cup half full). It’s just so cold: the other morning my left hand randomly got pins and needles and I figured that it was so cold that my blood had frozen and I was having some sort of mini-stroke.

What’s new for Danika? Well, about a month ago I got an email from a long time acquaintance back in Australia. We went the same primary school (although I think he was about 4 years above me), but we’d never really hung out or known each other very well. Anyway! Turns out Miles and his awesome dad, Brian (who I have regular conversations with in Coles), were going to be travelling through France for 4 weeks around April, and they were even going to pass through Aix if I would like to go out to dinner? Hmmm, go out to dinner with a fellow Australian? Bloody oath I would! So after some pre-hand planning, Miles and Brian came over to Rognes for a pre-dinner drink with my family at 7:30 on Tuesday night. The minute Miles made eye-contact with my huge black dog; it was instantly love at first sight. He knew the breed (I forgot it) the country of origin (Canada) that they are popular dogs for saving little children in the water (or something?), that they’re quite rare, and very expensive etc. It took a good ten minutes to separate them so that we could go inside out of the cold! Over a glass or rose (from our local vineyards) or a red (that Brian kindly provided!!) we discussed all the ways possible, of being killed by Australian wildlife. Miles and Brian did a glorious demonstration of their encounters with sharks, whales, spiders, snakes, koalas (highly dangerous...) kangaroos, scorpions, and also how long you have to live after you get bitten etc.  Did you know? Of the 10 most poisonous snakes in the world, Australia has 9 of them? They should be advocates for tourism Australia! Poor Malo was sitting pale as paper with his hands over his mouth and eyes wide.

Brian, Miles and I ended up going to a cosy little restaurant in Rognes called “Ma cuisine”. Poor Brian was having an interesting experience driving on the wrong side of the road, so we did most of the talking when we were safely out of the car. Marie and Thibault had also filled us in on what was a good choice off the menu. We had decided to have the froi gras as an entree (duck pate that the restaurant had mixed to make a savoury crème Broulee), and for mains, miles and I shared a cote de boeuf (pretty much just a huge hunk of good quality beef that has been roasted in the oven but only enough so that is it still practically raw in the middle) and some fry’s on the side. We couldn’t finish it... it was huge. And Brian had a Moroccan dish cooked in a targene (that weird porcelain thing that I can’t spell) with couscous on the side. We shared a bottle of lovely soft red, and talked about all the gossip of Alstonville, all their experiences in France, and also how bloody great Australia is. They dropped me home at about 11:30 and miles kissed his doggy friend, absolute, goodbye. And then texted me how great the dog was... Oh, And the family!

Now to talk about school!  As you know I changed class, and this means that I have gone from being with 15 year olds, to being with 16/17 year old which is a lot better for me.  Also I am in a premiere L and the L stands for literature. I do French, French literature, English, English literature, Italian, art and also once a week I have one lesson of science (it alternates from biology to chemistry each week).

I  am really loving all my teachers, but truthfully I don’t know any of their names:

-            The English teacher is a jolly, over-weight, hilariously comedic man of maybe 30 years. I enjoy his teaching abilities because he is so laid back, and I don’t feel that extreme gap between teacher and student.

-          Then there’s the French teacher (who also teaches us French literature) and he is an interesting character, bus also really enthusiastic and funny. He’s fit, maybe 60, bald, and very nice because on Thursday we have four hours of French in the morning and he lets us have breaks to go use the coffee machine and he’s just really kind. We also watch lots of old-school movies in his class.

-          The englsih literature teacher is brittish so she is really easy to get along with too. I think her classes are pretty challenging fir people who don’t have language as a first language, so if no one knows the answer and she is desperatwly saying “can ANYONE see examples of wit or cynicism in this excerpt  of the play ‘The importance of being Earnest’ by Oscar Wilde (talk about challenging), I’d eventually put  up my had and answer which is followed by a “thankkyyooouuuuu” (as she releases all her tension in one word). She’s got a lovely sweet and light personality and the other day after listening to her speak French with a powerful British accent, I asked my friend Gabby if my Australian accent is as prominent when I speak French. yes, yes it was. Even I know o sound retarded, so I find is kind of funny when my lovely family comments on my accent over skype and how French I sound while in reality I sound completely ridiculous.  

-          The Italian teacher doesn’t really acknowledge my existence.

-          Initially I thought the geography/history teacher was a scary demon, because she yells just in general when she is teaching and also everyone pre-warned me so I went into the class with some hefty expectation. But after a lesson the other day we got talking and she’s really nice!

-          Haven’t really gotten to know the art teacher very well. So I’ll have to update you laterz.

Anyway, i hope that fills you in a bit. lots of love, dan x