Today was pretty magical. And even though I’m tired from running around, the fact that I’m tired from running around inside of castles makes the fatigue bearable.The castle pictured is the Castle (or Château) of Sully-Sur-Loire and was a medieval fortress for generations of Dukes in this area of France. I would go on and on about my day, but since a picture’s worth a thousand words, I’ll let you see the results, instead. 
Ok, let’s talk food. Because I live in France now – what else would we be talking about. Since I have arrived there are several things I’ve eaten that I had no idea what they were. In fact, I would say I don’t know what most of my diet is right now. What I do know, is that everything is so good, and smells so good. I can’t even believe how fast the mom for the family whips out these amazing dishes for just a random Wednesday afternoon. But, it’s France – maybe that’s normal.
A lot has happened since I arrived here yesterday, and I’m sure a lot more will be happening, but since I want to make sure I cover everything I’m going to talk about things individually in separate posts throughout the week.
So, let’s talk French food:
Things I’ve eaten since getting here:
1. Tomates Farcies
Sweet Jesus take the wheel, this picture does nothing justice, but last night I ate a variation of Tomates Farcies which is basically tomatoes (and also onions) stuffed with ground hamburger/pork and spices and baked. It was absolutely amazing. I couldn’t believe I’d never eaten it before! Here’s a link to a French recipe (feel free to translate the website by copy and pasting the URL into google translate) more similar to the one I ate, and heres the link to an American variation. Try it out for dinner – you won’t regret it!!
2. Pork Pate
Oh, yes oh yes, the ground up canned rumors are true. Today I ate Pork Pate and it was so good. If you’re looking for an indicator for what it’s like, think canned tuna meets canned cat foot. Delicious, and completely disgusting looking, it’s a must have item for this French family and I love it.
3. Fish Cake
Looks like a banana or zucchini bread, tastes like a grilled tuna sandwich and all around amazing. This is what is known as a Fish Cake (ou Un gâteau au poisson et petits legumes) and yes, it has actual fish in it. Not going to lie, at first I was more than a little unsure about whether or not eating this would be a good life decision. It SO was.
4. Bread:
Have you ever had bread that was fresh baked from the French bakery three doors down from your house? If yes, then you know that even thinking about it is enough to make your mouth water. Something I love about the family I’m living with is that they eat bread, bread and more bread. They eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And even when the main course is bread, there’s still bread on the side. It’s incredible. And an absolutely necessary staple to every meal.
5. Cured Ham:
I don’t actually eat pork, normally. But, since others are cooking, and I’m in France, I’ve decided to make an exception. It was the right decision. This morning we went to the shop across the street and bought some fresh cut ham from a shop that was absolutely darling (like every shop here). One thing that’s nice about this town (but will probably, at some point, also become frustrating) is that there’s not really any such thing as a chain store. This city is a Seattleite’s dream because everything is run by a small business owner. C’est parfait.
6. Croque-monsieur
My first question when this was put on a plate in front of me was: Do I eat it with my hands, or with a fork? The answer, of course, was: Only Americans eat this with their hands. Okay. I’m very lucky I ask more than the average amount of questions, because I feel like there are so many problems that could have already happened without them. But, back to food. This sandwich was out of this world and even though I had it without cheese (because I’m allergic) it was amazing.
Fun Story: When I told my host family that I couldn’t eat cheese, they were stunned. It was as though I told them I was actually missing the right half of my body. All they could say was: Well…we eat a lot of cheese.
C’est la vie.
Stay tuned for more yummy updates!
*All food photos are gratefully borrowed from the Google gods – all rights belong to their original owners.
Well, here it is – this is not a drill!! I am currently flying over the Atlantic Ocean and in one hour I’ll be landing in Dublin. I may be the most tired little exploress you’ll ever meet, but that doesn’t mean I’m not excited! I’m so happy to get to go back to Ireland (even the airport) and I’m so excited to be half way done with this insane journey.
For those of you who don’t know, I’m taking four flights to Paris because it was half the price of flying direct. Right now I’m on flight number 2, and I’ll have a four hour layover in Dublin airport – then flying to London and finally to Paris.
I pulled an all-nighter before I flew out, which was insane, but necessary. My roommate and I were watching Disney movies and painting up to the LAST MINUTE, getting painted shoes sent out to some customers I had. I am so thankful for her help. I would never have been able to get the shoes done without her selflessness and staying up until 4am with me. If you know Vix, give her a high five next time you see her. She deserves so much more!
So far travel has been pretty smooth. I wandered around the Chicago airport for a while, but eventually found my way to my gate, after going through this magical light walk tunnel. There’s also a dinosaur there (see photo below).
I honestly cannot believe that I’ve actually made it to this point. Things didn’t come together until I was literally walking out the door for my flight, but the point of this story is that they came together. There were so many things that should have and could have gone wrong, but the lesson I’ve learned from this experience is:
It takes a village to make a dream come true.
Without family and friends, I would not be here. Without my mom and sister helping me pack and move boxes. My aunt reminding me to actually buy an adapter. My roommate (again, she wins all the points) my ex-nanny family for helping me financially and the support of so many more. I honestly feel so loved. Yes, I started this climb, but it was others who had to lift me the last way when I was worn out and exhausted.
So here’s to all of you who have stepped out of your way to make mine easier. Whether it was kind words, financial help, helping me move, taking time to come wish me off at a goodbye party, or any other support – THANK YOU. I would not be sitting on this plane today without you all!
Right now I’m half way through this journey, and I’m not sure what’s coming up next, but it has been such an adventure so far and I could not have asked for anything more.
See you IN FRANCE!!
I got my Visa for FRANCE!!! Leaving in 8 days!!! OHHHHH MYYYYYYY GOSSSSHHHHHH!!!
1. Fashion Icon: Juliette Gréco
“Still more will remember the pared-down look invented by this muse of Saint-Germain-des-Prés: sheathed in black, her doe eyes rimmed with kohl, her bangs and long black hair framing her pale face and expressive hands. It has been inspiring girls with artistic aspirations for over six decades.” – Vogue August 2014
2. Cédric Klapisch series: L’auberge espangnole, Poupées Russe, et Casse Tête Chinois
This is one of my favorite series of all time. The movies are made over quite a bit of time and show the lives and progressions of a group of student/young adults/adults. Filled with just the right amount of humor, drama, romance and real life experiences they are HIGH on my list of suggested watch, regardless of if you speak French. (They’re easy to find with English subtitles – Amazon has them to stream/buy!)
3. Miley v. Joan of Arc (aka Jeanne d’Arc)
Have you ever watched “Epic Rap Battles Of History” on Youtube? Ok, so this isn’t strictly French, but it does have Joan of Arc in it (aka The Maiden of Orleans, France – where I’ll be going to school). It’s definitely ridiculous and satirical, so watch at your own risk…of dying from laughter.
4. Bla Bla Car
This is a resource that the French girl Couchsurfing with me right now told me about! Traveling around France can be expensive, and I’m going to pretty much have a budget of nothing while I live there, so it’s going to be really important for me to have little life hacks like this one that I can use to see the country without spending all of my savings. Example: Riding the train from where I live (one way) to Paris is about $40…ride sharing is about $15. So glad I found out about this!
5. Normandie Armada Festival
Today I just found out about this festival that happens every four years (the next one is going to be in 2019) where old ships all gather along with millions of people on the coast of Normandy! Definitely on my bucket list.
6. Leboncoin.fr
Another great resource for the young, broke and not yet famous, I’m really excited about using this website (which is a lot like the French version of Craigslist) to find some necessities at a more accessible for my soon to be financial stays (aka broke).
7. Nolwenn Leroy
My bohemian self is in love with these videos and Nolwenn in general. I’m especially fond of these songs because they’re kind of like a mix of Irish/Scottish music + French which may be the most perfect combination ever.
(Only two more weeks until France!!)
Last night consisted of Cup Of Noodle, nervousness, triple checking that I had everything for my visa appointment,
excitement and hours of giggling, with the girls in my hostel, over how cute German guys are. Needless to say, sleep was not high on the list of priorities. Even when I did manage to fall asleep, I kept being jolted awake by the construction happening outside and the light streaming in through the curtains.
In short, I ended up sprawled out on my bed with a striped wool sock over my eyes, dreaming about not waking up in time for my appointment (I set 3 alarms). After worrying all night, I had this feeling that I should double check my 10am appointment time, so this morning I did – it wasn’t 10am, it was 9:30am.
Thankfully, I checked early enough that this wasn’t an issue, but I was reminded of how fragile this whole process is. Missing that appointment would have meant having to reschedule…in September. I would have missed my flight, school registration (September 8th) and I don’t know where I would have lived (in the US or France). Thank God I double checked – and I mean that in the absolute most literal way.
Even up until I was being checked in I was thinking about all the things that could go wrong. I half expected not to be on the check in list. But I was. And I had to mentally pinch myself as I sat in the chair. I was sitting at the French Consulate. I was applying to move to France. Was this real life? Yes. Yes, it was.
Everything went smoothly with the application process until the clerk noticed that my phone case had the French flag on it. She was so surprised, and I mentioned that my tattoo was also in French. She wanted to know why, but all I could say, as I started to cry, was, ” I’ve wanted this since I was 9 years old.”
For some perspective (for those of you who don’t know me well) I NEVER cry. Not at sad movies, not at funerals and not in front of strangers at the French consulate. But, combine lack of sleep and the realization of how close I am to making my dream a reality, and the result hit me all at once. Cue water works.
The good news was that the lady at the office told me there shouldn’t be any problem getting me my visa in time. She told me to email them in 10 days to double check with them, if I had not heard back. Apparently there’s been a running joke in the office because I’ve been emailing and talking with the San Francisco and Washington DC consulates so much. In fact, when I walked up to the window, the other clerk said, “Is that Emily Morehouse?!” I’m kinda a big deal, guys. When an embassy knows you by name, I count it as a good sign.
Now that the application has been turned in, the waiting begins… But I feel such a huge weight lifted. I applied to live in France – that’s insane.
I really hope that if any of you guys are feeling intimidated by travel you’ll be encouraged by my story, here. There’s nothing magical about me, nothing that makes this more possible for me than it would be for you. The only thing I’m equipped with is an ungodly amount of stubbornness. I’m such a strong advocate for being able go do anything you REALLY set your mind to. Because, if it’s something you really want, you’ll find a way to make it happen.
I’ve been waiting four weeks for paperwork from a French government agency so that I can apply for my visa. After sleepless nights, phone calls, faxes and emails, they finally called me this morning. The woman, her thick French accent filling the phone, told me I had no need of the paperwork I had been waiting for (and had been told to apply for). “Sorry for the delay in getting back to you. We’ve just been so busy.” Four weeks.
Welcome to the bureaucracy.
I’m finally boarding a plane for my visa appointment with the French embassy in San Francisco. It’s been a long road, filled with stress, stress, stress and more stress. I can honestly say that this “adventure” has been more stressful than four years of college… combined. I don’t even know how people do this and live to tell the tale, but I’m still fighting everyday to make it to the end.
The only question now is, when will it be the end? The hope right now is that the embassy will process my application in record time and then I’ll be able to leave on August 18th. The reality is, though, that they might not get it done in time, and that means I’ll have to buy another plane ticket. Something which I have NO budget for. Let the prayers commence.
Miracles don’t generally seem to happen, but when I was sitting in my room yesterday, looking at my stack of paperwork, I realized something – this ALREADY IS A MIRACLE.
If you had told me a year ago I would be applying to move to France, would be accepted into a French university and would be quitting my job, I never would have believed it. Last year, at this time, I was trying not to think about suicide, unhealthy relationships and starving myself. I was on multiple meds, had no plans or direction for my life and was spinning out of control. I remember sitting on my bed, curled up in a ball and thinking that I just wanted to die. Then I thought about that thought for a minute – no I didn’t! And that’s when a little voice said, “You’re going to have to choose. You can’t keep floating between life and death.”
I chose to live.
It’s been a pretty bumpy road getting here, but I think that’s what’s making me realize just how much I want this. Last night I really felt like God was pointing me in the direction of 2 Peter 3:9 where it says, ” The Lord is not slow in keeping His promises, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you.” We’re all given passions and dreams for a reason. On each of our hearts God writes a script that is unique to who we are, and who we’re called to become. Maybe these things seem arbitrary and random, but those are what guide us to find our destiny/calling/purpose. The funny thing is how often it’s US who are causing the roadblocks to getting there.
I think one of the most dangerous things we can do is to ignore what we’re passionate about. But, the reality is, sometimes we just forget. We get so caught up in the societal expectations to ___________ (fill in the blank) that we lose sight of our own path. And, for a really long time, that was me. Afraid to live my life, and trying desperately to follow someone else’s dream to get married, work in an office, get pregnant, volunteer in the kids room at church and only shop at Nordstrom and Anthropologie. Note: There is nothing wrong with these dreams. But they are not mine (although, some might be in the future). Coming to terms with this realization was half the battle. But you know what they say: Acknowledging you have a problem is the first step to recovery. It wasn’t until I was in a place of complete (and essential) surrender, that God reminded me of the dreams HE had planted deep in my heart.
When I was going through some old boxes at my parents’ house a couple of weeks ago, I realized that throughout my life I’ve always wanted to move to France. I have coloring pages from when I’m 9 of the Eiffel tower and every school related binder I ever had has some kind of France theme to it. It was a dream of my heart – my heart’s desire. But, in the chaos of life, I had forgotten, and I almost gave up.
I’m so thankful that life is full of second chances. And that right now I am on a plane to go apply for a visa to FRANCE. That, in itself, is a miracle. And I think it’s important that I declare that. Everything might not be working out according to the plan in my mind, but it is going to work out, because this wasn’t my plan to begin with.
This dream comes from somewhere so much deeper than my mind or my heart. In truth, I think it comes down to following a path that’s been waiting for me for quite a while, now. To find it, I simply had to stop looking so hard for a path that was someone else’s “right one.”
It’s against my nature to hope for things. I was raised to analyze facts, statistics and data, calculate a potential result, analyze that result and then still never fully put faith in the final solution.
It seems illogical to get your “hopes up” for something that may not come about. Statistically speaking there aren’t any certainties, so why hope for things?
But, last night I was reading 1 Corinthians 13 and, while I’m normally enraptured by the verses everyone remembers, “love is patient, love is kind…” this time my attention was grabbed by the very end of the verse:
“Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly.”
Trust God? Ok, I can do that. Love people? Ok, working on that. Hope unswervingly? WHAT.
I literally muttered, under my breath, “Why?”
Why does God command that we hope (and not only just hope, but hope UNSWERVINGLY)?
Hoping is dangerous. It puts you in a place of trusting the uncertainty of life. When you hope, it generally means there’s something out of your control. We hope for success, for things to go in the direction of our favor. We hope things work out, or that we’ll figure out a solution to an overwhelming problem.
The only issue is, these things will fade. They’ll break our heart. They’ll hurt us and make us never want to hope in anything, again.
This week has been kind of a hard one for me. A lot of personal things have come up that I thought had been dealt with in the past, but resurfaced, resulting in a lot of confusion and chaos.
But, while I’m praying and crying and trying to figure out things, I’ve continually been pointed to the idea of hoping in impossible things. For the first couple of days I thought, “No, I need something that will actually HELP me through this.”
But it kept coming, again and again: Hope.
I’ve never really realized how many bible verses there are about hope, but to save you the trouble of looking – there are a lot.
And after reading a few of them today, I noticed something. God doesn’t tell us to hope in or about things. He tells us to hope in Him, to find rest in Him, to know Him.
While I’m running around wondering how I’m expected to trust people, trust situations; hope in impossible endings, or extend impossible forgiveness, God says, “Put your hope in me.”
Like a lot of people, the Psalms are some of my favorite pieces of poetry.
In Psalm 42 we read “The prayer of someone who is in exile.”
This is one of my favorite chapters, because it’s raw and it’s human. In it the author talks about the emotional rollercoaster of leaning on God, and then remembering the past. They talk about heartbreak, they talk about “waves of sorrow” and questioning whether God has forgotten about them. In a nutshell, this has been my week.
But then, at the very end comes:
“I will put my hope in God,
And once again I will praise him,
My savior and my God.”
Life has a way of kicking us in the face. And I mean broken nose, blood and cracked bones, kicking. It happens to everyone at some point. Part of life is then getting up and still walking forward. But sometimes, if you’re really lucky, you’re also faced with having to forgive the beating. (Matthew 6:14-15)
As Christians, it’s not suggested – it’s required.
But, it’s not easy. And that’s what I’ve been wrestling with this week. And I do mean WRESTLING. I don’t like being put in vulnerable positions (who does?) I want to be in control of my life, and know what’s going on and when it’s going to happen.
But I don’t always. And even then God tells me to trust him. To hope in the promises that he has given me. To remember the little whispers he told me a year ago, while I was curled up gasping for breath from crying so hard.
It’s hard to hope.
It’s hard to remember.
It’s hard to keep walking, in faith, toward the things God has called us to.
Sometimes it’s with no directions. Sometimes we barely have a path we’re following.
But still he tells us to hope.
I can’t see what the outcome of situations will be. Sometimes I think I’ve got everything handled and in a good place, and then I get slammed with a curve ball like this week. I get knocked down. I get bruised and my heart feels like it’s going to tear in half. But I have to get up, again and again, and keep walking.
Hoping for things is not in my nature. Life is too uncertain. And risking with the potential for failure is against my better judgment.
But God doesn’t call us to hope in the uncertainty of our world. He calls us to hope in the certainty of knowing that when our brokenness, our messed up perceptions of what is happening, hits us hard, threatening to break our resolve, we hold tight to the promise that he will never fail us.
He is a never changing, immovable God who challenges us because He knows, ultimately, that we are so much stronger than we perceive.
So today I’m choosing to hope – not in the uncertain, the broken or the flawed. But in a Father who promises his presence when it’s time to find beauty in those things, and rise again.
Darkk Horse Travel 