Sunday, June 1, 2003

I fianlly made it to Pont-Aven. I've been through 12 hours of flight, 4 hours in the airport trying to find the meeting point, and 7 1/2 hours on a bus amidst blue sky, dark clouds, hail storm, blue skies again and a light rain by the time we reached Pont-Aven.

It's a small little town of 3,000 and it reminds me of The Canyon in Sierra Madre. Our families met us as we exited the bus. The lady I'm staying with is named Christine and her husband's name is John. They're very nice and willing to say whatever they can in English. For a late dinner we had seasoned sliced tomatoes (tamat?) and ham (jambon) and bread (pain). For dessert was a dairy product that tasted like yogurt except without the tartness. You mix into it sugar and milk. It's an acquired taste.

The house I am staying in is apparently one of some historical significance--very nice. The roofs are covered with lichen, there is green and flowers everywhere. The house is made of grey stone brick and the roofs are of grey slate.  It is two storeys and there is even a spire on top. A man by the name of Botrel owned it and he was apparently very well-known for bringing Breton folklore to popularity in other parts of Europe. The director of our school said that he was like a Liberace because he was a showman. He loved Pont-Aven so much that he wrote Breton folklore and poetry even though he wasn't even Breton himself.