Picking up almost directly where I left off.

I did walk those three kilometres to school. I wish I'd taken the bus, or at least stuck to the route I'd got used to taking.

You see, I say this because I tried a different, shorter route. I didn't like it from the offset but I didn't have the time to change my mind. It did, however, take me away from the luxury of pavements and into a subway to cross the main road with absolutely no lights whatsoever and which was of approximately the width of one person. Me. There was nothing to worry about in that respect, as I was the only person in a ten mile radius who would have been walking there, as France just drives everywhere. I was left with only my iPod light to try and find my footing, and as anyone who has tried this knows, it's pathetic. "Why didn't you use your phone?" says you, "Because a bottle of water decided for the first time ever to come undone in my bag.", says I. Yes, that's right. Fifteen minutes into my journey stumbling through the grass on the side of a main road and there's water dripping out of the bottom of said bag. I snatch out my phone as fast as possible and shove it into my cardigan pocket, but it's another twenty minutes to school and I can properly look at it. I do notice that whilst it's still alive, just about, the screen is already dimmed and for some unknown reason it has called somebody I don't know well from university and won't let me hang up. Despite the best advice from teachers at school, the iPhone isn't working. It has been entrusted to the French postal service and is currently on its way back to Britain where I hope one or other insurance policy will cover it.

However, I still have internet and was just about able to organise for my Exeter, BA-Politics-and-French friend Suzie to come up from Romorantin in the Centre region of France for a couple of nights. After a traumatic experience to rival my own in Gare Saint Lazare - honestly, Paris, what are you doing? - we spent the evening in the company of Lauren (of Australia), Niamh (also of the Centre region and Australia), and Leanne (who resides currently in a tiny town nearby to Bolbec) with food and wine and no awkwardness of which I had previously feared. We dragged ourselves up the same morning and into Le Havre on the bus to explore, meeting assistants Alex, Sam and Grace who are based there. We spent a typical French lunchtime of roughly two hours eating and chatting before being tourists in the rain. Obvious tourists. On a see-through tourist train at twenty miles an hour.

The Town Hall (Hotel de Ville) of Le Havre.

The classes I've taught - I do have a job here, I promise - have either been good or called off. Today three of four of my hours were cancelled due to cross country. Rather them than me. Everyone has been introduced to me, as well as Hannah, Stefanie and Cara (all names with which they have problems), my much-loved (by them more than me!) cat Midnight, and the few members of my family. I'm still enjoying the enthusiasm of the sixième classes, cinquième seemed to expect me to talk to them in French although I am not paid to do so, but troisième today were better than I had hoped for. I'm still getting to grips with knowing how much to plan, but I've quickly learnt too much is better than too little. It's interesting to me to be greeted with so many hellos - I must have met and am teaching 125 pupils in each school - in the corridor, as they all remember me and continue to be interested in me. I remember their faces usually but the names and classes escape me more often than not. I wish I could show them my real life: getting the hot water fixed, worrying about Swiss trains, watching TV, although I think it would spoil the illusion.

So, a month after my arrival, what can I say? I'm still going! I have university work to begin, still many lessons to learn (like how to be less thankful as it unnerves the natives but still sufficiently polite), and many, many more observations to share... Stay tuned in.