Les Mesnuls

I've been slacking for the better part of a week on updating the blog with my whereabouts, because it's a bit difficult to explain. I'm in a little town called Les Mesnuls, not far from Paris--this much is simple. I'm staying in a house where my sister spent a good chunk of time growing up; I'm with her mom and her mom's husband. My sis is in Chicago. Confused yet? So are we. We've decided that I'll be introduced to their friends as their "niece."

In any case, it's lovely out here, but I can see how a fourteen-year-old could consider it hell. We're sort of out in the country (there's a farm across the street) but one can drive to Paris in half an hour if traffic is light.

I cheated and took the train here from Jocelyne's farm. It was straight back the way I had come from, and my bank account couldn't tolerate another five hotel rooms on the way back. In a few hours of train travel, one can cover as much ground as in a week of biking--amazing. But as soon as a kindly French farmer answers my request to come work for him or her, I'll be on the road again by bike. The exhilaration of being at large in the world with everything I need loaded on a two-wheeled, motor-less vehicle is inimitable.

View from my lunch table in the town of

Versailles. Check out the loaded bike on the

left side next to the windows...