Playing Catch-Up

So, a lot has happened since the last time I posted. The weekend of the festival in the mountains was a whole lot of fun. I did not know what to expect, and from my boyfriend, it was a good thing to just go in with an open mind. They served beer and wine and liquor and we all drank and talked as we listened to the first band play. After putting down a few drinks, it was time for the dinner. We all went to one of the really long tables and began to pour ourselves wine and wait for the first course to arrive.

There was a second stage in the dining area that soon came to life with 2 Spanish singers, one who played the trumpet, and four show girls prancing about with feathered costumes and glittery make-up. During the whole meal that was our means of entertainment. We munched on our salad, our yummy steak and cheeses and our sweet desserts as the Spanish danced and sweat for our pleasure.

After a belly full of food, we stood and went back to the bar area to drink and dance. It was different, but I guess this is the type of festival you get in the country in the mountains. And the next morning, I felt the effects of the bad wine and the bad beer. We squinted into the sunlight when we left our house and went to have lunch with his grandmother, who cooked up a big and fattening meal. It was wonderful. After that we picked up and left for home.

Now, a misfortune happened the day before we left on our little journey to the mountains. That Friday, I went to the train station to catch my train to get to my French classes. I paid with some Euro coins I had in my change purse and sat and waited with everyone else for the train. I got on the old rickety means of transportation and took it to Albi where I studied. I got off and headed to a small store that sold snack for I knew I would be a bit hungry later on in the day and thought it would be wise to by a candy bar or drink. When it came time to buy my desired purchases...no wallet. I searched and search through all m bags...nothing. I said my apologies and thought maybe I just left my wallet on the kitchen table, though I still felt a little nervous.

After class, and after swim practice, I headed back home, hoping to find my little black wallet happily waiting for me in the apartment. Alas, no such thing happened. In a panic I searched high in low through the house but nothing turned up. Mathieu helped me search when he got back from rugby, as well he could find nothing. My heart sunk. For the first time in my life, my wallet got stolen.

For the next week I went through the whole process, making my claim at the police office and calling every train station on the route to Albi in hopes that someone turned it in. Nothing. I then went to the city hall to ask to make a claim that I have to make a new recipe for my Carte de Sejour. Thankfully the people there pretty much know me and helped me out without hesitation.

I lost all hope of ever seeing it again when a week later when I went to the train station to catch my afternoon train to Albi, the ticket seller who I have also become acquainted with, said "I have something for you!" In a bubbly happy voice. She disappeared and returned in her hand the wallet that I have been missing for a little over a week. I beamed and showered her with thank yous. I checked inside, everything was there except the 70 Euros I still had in my wallet from withdrawing money for my stipend for the 2 weeks. I expected the money not to be there. I smiled and thanked her again and skipped to the train. Luck smiled upon me that day. I hope I will not let a person with sticky fingers get away with it again.