I'll start by saying I had a lot of help with opening a bank account. My responsable had already arranged a "rendezvous" before I arrived.
The documentation I needed was proof of address, proof of employment (arrete de nomination), a rough estimation of what I will earn a month (I'm sure this is written in British council documents) and my passport.
I think I have to pay 3 euros a month for my debit card, and thats about it. I'm with Banque Populaire and I have to wait around 8 days for my bank card. That's all I know.
Just thought it might be handy to write this post just in case it helps anyone else.
Sunday, 28 September 2014
Saturday, 27 September 2014
The Pros and the Cons of a Helping Hand
I met Jacqueline at the station on Thursday, and then she took me back to her house to meet her husband Pascal and son Benoit. She told me I'd be staying the weekend and maybe moving into the school apartment on Monday. We'd sort my bank account and the internet out on Friday as well as visiting both of the Lycées that I will be working at. All good I like a plan, but things aren't always as easy as you think they will be.
Jacqueline and her family are lovely, and welcomed me in English and continue to speak to me in English, this has been great in terms of making me feel at home, but I know I'm struggling with my French at this stage. When they switch to French I only really understand 30-40% of the conversation, and as for replying...ha.
Also I haven't been able to unpack because I am only staying here temporarily until after the weekend, so there's absolutely no point in unpacking to pack again, but I really don't feel at home yet.
AND, what is the deal with eating so late at night? I can't wait until 9 or 10 to eat. Especially after having been so busy in the day. If it comes down to food or sleep, I choose sleep every time.
I'm so lucky though, she had been SO helpful, translating things when I don't understand, helping me open a bank account, sorting out the internet, and introducing me to my flatmate.
I have been able to use their internet to Skype home, and she has insisted that I phone home whenever I want.
I know that if I have any problems I have somewhere to go, and someone who is so willing to help me.
Things aren't so bad at the moment, I just really miss home.
But as the song goes, the only way is up (baby).....
Mon voyage à Guingamp
Day 1
I split my journey into 2 bits. For the first leg of my journey, I travelled down to London with Lewis. It was really emotional but I was so lucky to have the support of someone, when I was feeling so apprehensive about the next few days (months) ahead. Lewis gave me a hand with my bags, which made me so nervous about the next day when I'd have to do it alone, and whenever I thought of that I'd get emotional knowing that I wouldn't see Lewis for at least 4 weeks.
I was rushing around so much that I managed to get to London with just a few tears. But it was hard!
Once we got to London we found our hotel, which was right opposite St Pancras Station and dropped off my luggage. We had a lovely meal, and then came the tears. I felt like I was on a mini break, and I didn't want it to end. I knew how difficult the following day would be, saying goodbye, carrying what felt like 70+ kilos of luggage across Northern France and being in a completely new environment that I'm expected to call home for the next 7 months.
After trying to calm myself down, and watching Bake Off, it was time for sleep. HA. I got no sleep, at all. I couldn't switch off, I worried so much, and I wanted to catch the first train home.
Day 2
Morning came, and soon enough we were stood by the Check In at St Pancras. All morning I'd had a steady flow of tears, but I was only nanoseconds away from sobbing my heart out. How was I supposed to walk through the gate when my fiancé was the other side, waving me off, and then going home.
I know I sound so ungrateful about having the opportunity of a lifetime, but I'm a home bird and suffer with homesickness and anxiety like you wouldn't believe. I managed a smile when the man on the luggage security desk was really nice and told me not to worry because it wasn't forever.
I managed the Eurostar fine, besides the miserable woman sat next to me, who did a lot of grumbling when I asked to squeeze past to pop to the loo. However, when we pulled into Paris Gare du Nord I was frozen. I was so scared I wanted to stay sat in my seat and wait for the journey back home. I felt sick and generally rubbish. All these feelings plus the stress of having to carry my luggage across Paris made for a really positive start to my Year Abroad!
I managed to jump the queue for a metro ticket because I was the only one with change, and I hopped onto (clambered with stupidly big/ heavy bags) onto Metro line 4 to Gare Montparnasse. There I have about an hours wait until the next train, so I managed a few bites of my sandwich before I felt sick again.
By the time it got to boarding the final train, I was an emotional wreck again. I'd managed this far, with tears, but this was the train taking me far away from home to a new place that quite honestly I didn't want to be going. Anyhow, I boarded, with much ado with the luggage situation. A grumpy old(ish) man was very dismayed at the 2 minute wait I had caused him by trying to put my luggage into the luggage rack. It goes without saying that he offered no help, but instead sighed loudly at my struggle.
After that I found my seat and had a good cry (again). It all got too much and I even resorted to locking myself in the train toilet to have a cry in peace.
After what seemed like hours (because it was!) The train pulled into Guingamp Station. I made my way around to the gate which is where I met Jacqueline.
Here is the end of the hardest, most emotional day of my life...
I split my journey into 2 bits. For the first leg of my journey, I travelled down to London with Lewis. It was really emotional but I was so lucky to have the support of someone, when I was feeling so apprehensive about the next few days (months) ahead. Lewis gave me a hand with my bags, which made me so nervous about the next day when I'd have to do it alone, and whenever I thought of that I'd get emotional knowing that I wouldn't see Lewis for at least 4 weeks.
I was rushing around so much that I managed to get to London with just a few tears. But it was hard!
Once we got to London we found our hotel, which was right opposite St Pancras Station and dropped off my luggage. We had a lovely meal, and then came the tears. I felt like I was on a mini break, and I didn't want it to end. I knew how difficult the following day would be, saying goodbye, carrying what felt like 70+ kilos of luggage across Northern France and being in a completely new environment that I'm expected to call home for the next 7 months.
After trying to calm myself down, and watching Bake Off, it was time for sleep. HA. I got no sleep, at all. I couldn't switch off, I worried so much, and I wanted to catch the first train home.
Day 2
Morning came, and soon enough we were stood by the Check In at St Pancras. All morning I'd had a steady flow of tears, but I was only nanoseconds away from sobbing my heart out. How was I supposed to walk through the gate when my fiancé was the other side, waving me off, and then going home.
I know I sound so ungrateful about having the opportunity of a lifetime, but I'm a home bird and suffer with homesickness and anxiety like you wouldn't believe. I managed a smile when the man on the luggage security desk was really nice and told me not to worry because it wasn't forever.
I managed the Eurostar fine, besides the miserable woman sat next to me, who did a lot of grumbling when I asked to squeeze past to pop to the loo. However, when we pulled into Paris Gare du Nord I was frozen. I was so scared I wanted to stay sat in my seat and wait for the journey back home. I felt sick and generally rubbish. All these feelings plus the stress of having to carry my luggage across Paris made for a really positive start to my Year Abroad!
I managed to jump the queue for a metro ticket because I was the only one with change, and I hopped onto (clambered with stupidly big/ heavy bags) onto Metro line 4 to Gare Montparnasse. There I have about an hours wait until the next train, so I managed a few bites of my sandwich before I felt sick again.
By the time it got to boarding the final train, I was an emotional wreck again. I'd managed this far, with tears, but this was the train taking me far away from home to a new place that quite honestly I didn't want to be going. Anyhow, I boarded, with much ado with the luggage situation. A grumpy old(ish) man was very dismayed at the 2 minute wait I had caused him by trying to put my luggage into the luggage rack. It goes without saying that he offered no help, but instead sighed loudly at my struggle.
After that I found my seat and had a good cry (again). It all got too much and I even resorted to locking myself in the train toilet to have a cry in peace.
After what seemed like hours (because it was!) The train pulled into Guingamp Station. I made my way around to the gate which is where I met Jacqueline.
Here is the end of the hardest, most emotional day of my life...
My Last Night At Home
Bags packed, bags unpacked, clothes vacuum packed, clothes rolled, clothes folded, bags repacked, necessities checked, changed etc, etc.
The week before my departure consisted of mainly this. I would hazard a guess at how many times I packed my bags, but I lost count at about 14! Fitting everything in wasn't the problem. The problem was that I couldn't lift my bags up. I started off with one big suitcase, but soon enough this became 1 suitcase and 1 HUGE backpack. and I still couldn't life them.
In between packing, I managed to meet a few people to say my goodbyes, but all in all I was so stressed. When I was out of the house I felt like I should be at home, sorting out things, and spending time with Lewis and the bunnies, but when I was in the house all I could think about was going here or there to sort out all the last minute bits!
I got myself so worked up at one point that I actually threw up! I just didn't want to leave home. Then sometimes I felt completely in denial, and like I wasn't actually moving to France for the next year of my life.
I found leaving home very difficult. Lots of people skim over this bit in their Year Abroad blogs, but for me this is really the first, and maybe the biggest hurdle. Hopefully things get easier from here?!
The week before my departure consisted of mainly this. I would hazard a guess at how many times I packed my bags, but I lost count at about 14! Fitting everything in wasn't the problem. The problem was that I couldn't lift my bags up. I started off with one big suitcase, but soon enough this became 1 suitcase and 1 HUGE backpack. and I still couldn't life them.
In between packing, I managed to meet a few people to say my goodbyes, but all in all I was so stressed. When I was out of the house I felt like I should be at home, sorting out things, and spending time with Lewis and the bunnies, but when I was in the house all I could think about was going here or there to sort out all the last minute bits!
I got myself so worked up at one point that I actually threw up! I just didn't want to leave home. Then sometimes I felt completely in denial, and like I wasn't actually moving to France for the next year of my life.
I found leaving home very difficult. Lots of people skim over this bit in their Year Abroad blogs, but for me this is really the first, and maybe the biggest hurdle. Hopefully things get easier from here?!
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