10am: History
OK. So I’m not actually taking any history classes. But have been very historically cultured: on the weekend of the 18th/19th Lille celebrated its history with “Les Journées Européennes du Patrimoine”. It’s a huge event that takes place the third weekend of September and everything in the city opens for free, from the museums to the theatres, even the Chamber of Commerce. Of course, having had an intensive week of French classes, Georgie, Katie and I woke up at a just about respectable time (10.30am). I had a wander down to the patisserie and brought back the usual order, 2 pain au chocolat and 2 croissants. After a very leisurely petit dejeuner, we hopped onto the metro into town. First stop was the Theatre du Nord, which until this point I had never actually seen open; I have been keeping an eye on it, thespian that I am, and it appears that they do a fantastic deal for students. You pay 15€ for a card, and then can see any of the shows for only 3€. AMAZING. Also the theatre is huge, a fantastic stage space so I may have to make that a regular trip. After that, a wander through the Vielle Bourse (a beautiful old building which now houses a small book market) to look at some kitsch French films, books and posters, and onward to the Opera de Lille. Where we got unceremoniously turned away by the security guard, as it was lunchtime, so we forced ourselves to go to a restaurant to eat moules frites. I, however, ordered a steak. I am missing meat, because I am living with vegetarians, and so thought that this was the opportune moment to get a nice, rare, French steak. Apart from the fact that I am obviously English, so my ‘medium rare’ turns up very well done... Still, I can’t complain, I’m a student in France eating a steak at a lovely restaurant in the Grand Place.
I’ll take a moment here to talk about the French waiters. I have a love/hate relationship with them. They either ignore you from the moment you sit down, or serve you whilst looking terribly harassed, or they are absolutely fantastic. Luckily, I have generally experienced the latter: they have put up with my terrible French, waited whilst I count out Euros into my hand, even taken pictures for me. They also attempt to speak English to me, which is lovely, although I am supposed to be practising my French... But I have to say that there is no one quite like a waiter in France.
After our lengthy dejeuner, we headed onto the Palais des Beaux Arts. This place is stunning. I can’t say much for the art – the sculptures are beautiful, but in my opinion the art is, shall we say, a little heavy. As in, lots of Jesus. Dying for our sins. Rooms and rooms of it. Not that I mind a bit of religious art, often it’s very passionate, only I can’t quite stomach too much of it... However, the architecture of the building definitely made it worthwhile. High ceilings, stunning marble floors, huge stained glass windows. I am a fan. There is a fantastic fountain outside too. I will have to upload some pictures: Katie affectionately thinks of me as her stalker, as I am forever wandering around with a camera and taking surreptitious ‘action’ shots, which she generally doesn’t appreciate. Although, might I add that they are not specifically of her!
We also popped into a church which was open in the town centre. There are lots of churches about, and I quite enjoy this because I do like churches. I’m not a religious person, but there is something about the church building that fills me, if not with a faith in any God, with a faith in humanity. I figure if we could build something that huge and that beautiful over generations of men for reasons of faith, then we must still have something of that in us as human beings. I think that’s why this weekend is such a great idea – everything of any importance to the city, small or big, opens up and it fills one with a sense of heritage, tradition and culture. The things that tie us to the past and take us into the future.
2.30pm: The Art of Sales
Again, I haven’t been attending educational sales meetings. But Lille has taught me a thing or two about selling things. The very first weekend that I was here was the weekend of the Braderie, which in English is a car boot sale. Lille hosts the biggest braderie in Europe in the first weekend of September. Now until this point, every time I had been into the centre of town things had been relatively quiet, the students weren’t back yet, nobody was really about. But on Saturday 4th September, Georgie and I walked out of the very busy metro station into a different world. There were people everywhere. All I could see was a bobbing sea of heads. The street was lined up and down with stalls selling anything and everything – from professional shops slashing their prices just for the weekend, to home owners selling off their old stove. On the Sunday, I met with my parents and we braved the streets, elbowing our way through. Although, actually, it was all very civilised – everyone was very patient, all walking on the right, and surprisingly no one had managed to drink their way to drunkenness (as they may have done in England, considering the amount of alcohol for sale). We even got invited into someone’s house: my father, the eccentric that he is, stopped at an odd looking stall and saw a very old, very rusty hand drill. The man behind the stall, holding coffee and cigarette, says, “Quelle nationalité?”, and I reply “Anglaise”, at which point he jumps up with an exclamation of “I used to live in South Africa!” We then had a fantastic conversation about drills, and how it is only the Dutch and the English who ever buy anything odd, and would we like to look in his house? Turns out that the ground floor of his house is basically storage for all the rubbish he has collected over the years: books, pianos, ovens, doors... Honestly, totally crazy, but good fun. Onward to Vieux Lille (old town) where I spot a HUGE pile of mussel shells, which means it must be lunchtime. ‘Moules frites’ is an institution here. There is a competition for the braderie weekend over which restaurant can build the biggest pile of mussel shells: great fun, but it doesn’t smell so fab... A bottle of wine, a beer and lots of moules later we wandered off again into the streets of Lille, where I practiced lots of French and was tempted to buy all sorts of odd things from all sorts of odd people. PS, people of France, your taste in music is really very terrible.
Markets are a fantastic thing in France. Laila, my French housemate, took the three of us Anglophones to the Wazemmes market, a big food/clothes/general market that is on every Sunday. I am very glad she was with us. She knew exactly where to get the best olives, fish, fruit, all at brilliant prices, and even took us to this brilliant little Chinese fast food van where we all had spring rolls wrapped in lettuce and dipped in sweet chilli sauce. Délicieux! We have braved it two times since then, and my true Yorkshire comes out, where I shout French loudly until I get served and/or a cheaper price. It’s all good fun, and excellent practice. I think they might even understand me now.
But one thing I must say about all these events is that when they do something here, they really do it well. It may be totally chaotic, full of people and absolutely confusing, but everyone loves every minute of it and everyone gets so involved. And each event is totally adored by the locals and by visitors: there is a huge sense of welcoming. Bienvenue à Lille!
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