More Provence beauty.
Wine and farm land.
Wheat fields in Provence.
Being in France made me realize something: I don’t know French. Like any. I can count to 5, say hello, good-bye, I don’t speak French, thank you, please, threesome, Do you want to come to bed with me?, cheese, and chicken. So, depending on how you look at it, either I’m completely screwed or completely set. I had my foreigner moment when I tried to buy a rotisserie chicken. I hadn’t set out to buy a whole chicken–I’d only gone out for what I was wanting to be quick run to the store for some lemon yogurt and ginger. But hey, poulet happens. I walked into the store, and right there in the front was a rack of rotisserie chickens roasting. It’s like walking past the rotisserie chicken section in Costco–MOM CAN WE PLEASE GET A CHICKEN!? I mean seriously, what on earth to they put on that chicken that makes it smell that way, all over the world much-a-less!?! It’s like a drug. You smell it and suddenly you become crazed and absolutely have to it.
But….I saw no price or method to retrieve the chicken from it’s rotation on the spit. Normally, I would just ask. But alas, none of my vocabulary aside from “Poulet” was going to help me in this situation so I abandoned my rotisserie chicken dreams just as quickly as I had gotten them.
I got to the check-out line and I could see the chickens looming by the door, their delicious aroma torturing me as I stood in line, staring them down, unable to ask if I could buy one. I finally got to the check-stand and couldn’t take it anymore. I pointed to the case of rotating birds and said “Poulet?” She said “Oui”, punched in 9.50€ into the register. I was committed now. The poulet was paid for, but now how the hell do I communicate that I don’t think I’m qualified to reach into a rotisserie and pull out a burning hot rotating chicken and is there somewhere here that can. Of course, there was a giant line forming, and then their machine decided to hate my credit card and I didn’t have any cash. And I didn’t have my chicken. Finally the card went through, and I did some more pointing and said poulet a few more times and she gave me very clear instructions how to get it. Or at least I think she did. She resorted to circling the poulet purchase on my receipt and pointing to the butcher. So I took the receipt to him, he asked me something, to which I replied that I don’t speak French, and he continued talking to me, confused about what I was asking for and getting rather annoyed.
I took the receipt back to the lady at the register, gave the universal sign for “I have no idea”. She took the receipt, scribbled the butchers name in big letters followed by “CHICKEN PLEASE”. Dear God, yes, please, chicken. Not so surprisingly, the butcher still had no idea what he was supposed to do. For the third time I went back to the lady at the register with the receipt, who now decided to stand up and starting yelling across the store at the butcher. Meanwhile, the line that had formed during the beginning of the great chicken debacle, was now growing and watching-on with more annoyance as my frickin chicken continued to delay their day further. At this point the butcher had now come out from behind his counter all the way across the store and was at the register hashing it out with the clerk and finally it clicked. Chicken. Rotisserie chicken. In a bag. For me. I got my poulet, and it was delicious.
Aside from chicken, week 2 of bootcamp was equally as busy and sleep-deprived as week 1. However, there were lots of peanut M & M’s. I’m going to get so fat working for Backroads. They say first year leaders gain an average of 10-15 lbs their first year. Between getting fed 5 course meals at fancy (sometimes Michelin Star!) restaurants and the company’s obsession with, and bottomless supply, of peanut M & M’s (if you’re working in a country that doesn’t sell them they’ll have you bring over a suitcase full of them with you. It’s serious M & M business around here.) I believe it. And the picnics. Oh Lord, the picnics. The Backroads Picnic is another staple in the trip experience for guests. There’s always 1-2 picnics on each trip, and we got specific training on how to shop for, make, and present these picnics (it’s all about elevating the food and proper garnish!). Never underestimate the power of the picnic!
Picnic practice.
Our team picnic! 🙂
On the first 2 days of week 2 we had a mock-trip. So basically it was closest thing to a trip we could experience and ran it as such. Mentors played guests and gave us scenarios, we had the vans and trailers, route maps, prepared daily talks you would do on a trip, van support, picnics, wine-tasting, etc. It was a lot of fun, great weather and great cycling.
The rest of the week was more logistics, learning about our clientele, more public speaking, more reading, and the final testing was all day Saturday. However, the most exciting day was Thursday, because we got our placement for the start of the season. I got my first choice: Czech-Austria. Woohoo!! The trips start in Prague and end in Vienna, winding through the SE of Czech and into the Wachau Valley.
We finished testing Saturday evening, went home to pack, went out with the mentors, and then the next morning Pavel (token Czech Republican) and I hit the road to Czech (he got placed there too and had driven his own van from Norway to training, so it was road trip time). We were supposed to start Tuesday morning, so the go-go-go was not about to stop! Driving in a van for 2 days with Pav is a bit like being stuck in a metal box with a 12 year old. We managed not to kill each other and only had 2 incidents that caused us to stop speaking to each other for a couple hours. We drove all day Sunday and made it to Lucerne, Switzerland by 10:00 that night, visited one of Pav’s friends, then slept in a parking lot. I was told we were going to be camping by a lake. No. We slept in a van in a parking lot, sort of near a lake. Not the alpine lake dreams I had envisioned, but oh well.
Scotty, me, and Lulu (another mentor).
Me and my mentor Scotty.
Roomies from training.
Road-tripping in style.
Chapel Bridge in Lucerne, built in 1332.
You can even still walk on it! Good work, Switzerland.
The paintings that were added in the 17th century illustrate scenes of Swiss and local history
Austria!
Then we bombed it the next day into Austria, took a side trip into the Stubaital to meet up with all my friends from last year and to eat at my favorite random Thai food spot in the valley. We made it to Czech late that night to our leader house, which is in the middle of nowhere in the Czech countryside, then turned around the next morning to be on the road by 8:00 for trip familiarization. The next 4 days were a jam-packed jumble of more information and further sleep deprivation. My brain just gave up on life. We were being familiarized on multiple trips (that they usually give you 6 days to do, but scheduling decided to have us cram it into 4), meeting hotel managers, seeing the spots along trips, restaurants, biking some routes, and learning the ropes. It was overload, but I loved it, and the Wachau is absolutely gorgeous. And the breakfast at the hotel we stay at there is really good, so really I don’t care about much else after that.
Coming over the border into Western Austria
Entering in Zürs-Lech area in Voralberg.
Back in Fulpmes with Monica!
Nuggie doing her bat-dog look. She’s the latest addition to Doug’s Mountain Getaway.
Gurl You A Fish 