Week 9 and 10
13.13
There was no update last week since there was nothing to report,
I intensified my placement search which is always my first thought,
When I wake up tired in the morning after a night’s sleep plagued by stress,
Stress brought on by the placement search so it’s a cyclic, ‘Catch 22’ mess!
The housemate went away which gave me room to breathe,
I like the girl but the flat’s better when she’s taking leave.
3 months together have been good but at times i admit she grates,
I’ve thought of tying her to a concrete block and dropping her in a lake.
Oh god I’m making death threats, I’m tired and sarcastic,
That’s due to the stress of the placement search as well as being brassic.
I feel like a white-trash mother, balancing four jobs and fifty kids,
Waiting on a pay cheque whilst finding food under dustbin lids.
I’m course I’m not that crazy, I’m by no means a messed up wreck,
I’d be a fool to ever waste time, waiting for a cheque.
I’m working my arse off for free, and staying late as well,
What benefits it’s giving me I really cannot tell.
But it’s the office party soon and we’re off to Monaco,
I’m going to get my money’s worth it’s my main reason to go.
Since it’s on the company, I’m going to eat so much pricey food,
Feeding myself like a pregnant woman who has to eat for two!
I’ll eat my weight in grub, then shovel in some more,
I’ll pile in all those French deserts, til my stomach hits the floor.

14.12.
Ok so I didn’t manage it, I didn’t achieve my aim
To eat enough tucker to double the size of my frame.
But it was a lovely evening, my first ever company Christmas do!
And while I might not have eaten loads of it, I tried some tasty food.
We all received a present, to thanks us for our graft,
I started imagining expensive gifts, like a priceless piece of art,
I thought since they don’t pay their interns, this might be gold or silver,
But imagine my astonishment when it turned out to be neither!
I unwrapped it carefully, but was left unhappy and shocked,
When I pulled out a candle from the nicely gift wrapped box.
What’s a twenty year old lad supposed to do with that?
Use it as a paperweight, or hit someone with it if I’m attacked?
It came in a glass bowl you see and weighed in pretty heavy,
Which gave me the idea it could have cost a pretty penny.
But I turned it to my advantage and put it back into it’s case,
Wrapped it back up whilst maintaining my ‘I’ve always wanted a candle’ face.
I would have given it to Mum if she didn’t read this blog,
So I had to offload it somewhere and I knew just the job,
I gave it to my housemate Irene, who smiled and jumped about
I muttered that it’s not the present but the thought that really counts.
I only have a few days left in this little flat of mine,
Before I’m off to Paris then to my Mum’s for Christmas time.
This is my last post from Nice, and I’ve begun to reflect,
On the three months that I’ve spent here and its positive effects,
I refuse to get nostalgic since I might return in the summer,
My boss offered me a job and made a fiscal offer.
She said she values all my work here and their will be a vacant role,
But this time with a salary, saving me from signing on the dole!
So all is good and pretty sweet apart from the placement search,
But I’ve had a spate of interviews which I guess can never hurt.
One was looking promising until we spoke on the phone.
I muttered in a voice that was rather monotone,
She asked me to describe myself, which I wasn’t ready for,
I was thinking questions would be about work and not anything more
So I mumbled something about hockey, why? I have no idea.
I’m less likely to watch hockey than I am to buy a crate of beer.
So safe to say that job has gone, to a more exciting ‘Stagiaire’
I can’t complain but rather next time I’ll make sure that I prepare!
That’s it from Nice and me I’m off to Paris with my fingers crossed,
Praying that I find somewhere and manage to impress the boss
Have a merry Christmas, enjoy the brand new year,
I’m on my way to Strasbourg for family Christmas cheer,
Then it’s off to Manchester to catch up with my mates
Before returning to France where the next adventure awaits!

Bloody hell that’s two months gone and only one to go,
Until I have to move on and to where I still don’t know!
Finding somewhere else by Christmas is priority number one,
Although the date I should have sorted is well and truly gone.
But nevermind that’s standard and part of who I am,
Leaving it to the last minute is my steady back up plan.
But something will come up, it always has before,
Which is why I’m not screaming out I can’t take this anymore.
This week at work’s been humbling, no more compliments or praise,
They had me packing envelopes to fill up half my days.
This might be a plan, to stop me getting too big for my boots,
But do they know who they’re dealing with? I’m a journalist of some repute!
Monday was spent on Excel, filling in tables for my boss,
I even thought about striking to get my point across.
How could they treat me like this? I’m the best journalist they’ve got,
I’m the treat at the end of the rainbow, I’m the f*****g honey pot!
Maybe they thought I was getting arrogant after being published in the press,
But I’m far too clever to let that happen, is what I would suggest.
Tuesday things were back to normal which suits me just fine,
If they dare do that again, I’ll leave them for the Times!
Now, of course, I’m only joking, I’m not getting carried away,
How could I seriously boast when I’m part time and on no pay?
In other news, things are sweet, I’ve discovered Hi hotel,
An amazing hotel bar concept that makes Wayne’s (week 4) look like hell
Above all else the music’s good, and the décor’s a work of art,
And I finally found a DJ that didn’t remind me of Pat Sharp.
Yes I really meant that, I didn’t just use him for the rhyme,
All DJs here have shocking hair and all use corny lines.
There isn’t really a dance floor and it’s not supposed to be a club,
But since there’s nowhere else to go apart from the world’s most despicable pub,
I’ll treat it like it’s Pacha or a warehouse near Uni
And enjoy the music as if it’s 1973 (James Blunt reference just for Cad)
Other ‘goings on’ have gone on here in France,
Apart from work and my tired quest to find somewhere to dance.
An unprovoked Frenchman attacked a friend of mine,
He kneed her in the stomach, it was pretty out of line.
I’d love to tell you all that I acted hard and tough,
But true to the little wimp I am I was giggling too much!
Maybe, had it been serious, I would have taught a bloke a thing or two,
Shown him why I’m feared from here to Timbuktu,
Told him Karate kicking’s no way to treat any girl at all
Even if she’s American and doesn’t understand Football!
He was a very messed up man, not the kind you’d like to meet,
After attacking her he pirouetted, then ran off down the street!
He obviously found his pleasure in hallucinogenic drugs,
Which made him believe that he was Bruce Lee or at least a Triad thug.
I really wish I’d hit him, since Katie’s pretty cool,
She didn’t deserve her Karate chop from the random homeless fool.
If you haven’t heard of her, she’s left a comment on this page,
She’s here living in Nice and she’s about my age.
As you’ll see from her comment, she thinks ‘heart’s a verb but not a noun,
Just like all Americans she brings the language standard down.
The only other thing that’s worthy of me telling you,
Is that a trip to the hairdressers did not go very smooth.
I don’t know the French for mullet so there’s no way I could have said,
“I really want a mullet to dangle from my head”
At no point did I ask to look like a dodgy Russian kid,
But that’s precisely what the French Hairdresser did!
It’s fair to say my hair vocab isn’t up to scratch,
But there’s no reason for him to leave me looking like a rat.
It’s not that bad, I exaggerate just to make you smile,
But he gave me the beginnings of a mullet that’s growing all the while.

Alf

A very quick mention to Alf, who replied to my last little note,
I loved it and yes I was jealous of most, if not all that you wrote.
I’m gutted I missed Barcelona-just like I’ll miss lots of 21sts
But that’s why this year is a gift as well as a bit of a curse.
I hate to miss things, as you know, but I’d rather not be in the dark,
So keep filling me in with your news not necessarily with this poetry lark!
Whether with our mates at Manchester Uni, on your nights at the Warehouse Project
Or just your day to day misdemeanours, and the nights that you’ll never forget.
But while this poem is personal it’s kind of meant for all,
Whether it’s a poem, or a letter or a post left on my wall.
I love to hear your news and smile when I receive it,
So keep that all in mind next time you have a minute,
And think of me your friend, dear old Fraser Mac
Get in touch with me and make me a happy chap!

Week 7

I’m still on a high, this week’s been rather great,
Thanks to ‘Stelios’ I got to see an old, old mate.
The days at work went by without too much going wrong,
Although France’s favourite hobby-Striking-is going on.
A thirty minute bus ride turned in to 1hr 45,
I wasn’t sure if the woman next to me had gone to sleep or died!
I refrained from poking her, I wasn’t sure how it’d be construed,
Concern for an elderly lady, plain dirty or just rude.
For an unknown reason our boiler has packed up,
The radiator’s work but the shower does my nut.
At best the water’s tepid at worst it’s pretty baltic,
At any rate the temperature gage does nothing to control it.
But Bruce came out to see me and I showed him round the place,
I can’t tell you how good it was to see his ugly face.
For those of you that don’t know Bruce is one of my oldest friends,
It’s a shame there aren’t more people like him around these ends.
I showed Brucie all the nightlife but that only took an hour,
So far I’d subjected him to bad music and a piss-poor awful shower.
I was beginning to wonder what else could go ‘topsy-turvy’
Then I realised we’d have to take buses not trains which meant far, far longer journeys!
But not to be outdone and never to be defeated,
I took the lad to Monte-Carlo, which was just what was needed.
Yeah we admired the Ferraris, the Jaguars and Bentleys,
But the sight of a rusty old Escort, made us laugh a plenty.
We both agreed while Monaco’s sweet, it’s full of such pretence,
Being seen in tracksuit trousers is a criminal offence.
I’m not condoning being a Chav, or saying we shouldn’t look smart,
But using appearances as a metaphor to explain how snobbery’s become an art.
Here it’s all about money, assets and value and worth.
No-one here cares about much if it can’t get you status on Earth.
I just want to know, why they eat in overpriced restaurants inside?
When I was content and happy to eat sandwiches watching the tide.
Why do these jokers waste time, with pompous, contrived etiquette,
When they could get out and watch the sunrise or stay out and watch the sunset?

Week 6

This last week has been hectic and has really run me down,
Researching articles has had me running all around.
While money in the bank account means I can go out and play,
A busy, busy office means a longer working day.
Last weekend in Cannes I did the tourist things with friends,
Where gorgeous sandy beaches stretch from end to end.
We went to île st Marguerite an island off the coast,
One of a group of three that were 30 mins away at most.
But sightseeing can’t last if I want to keep my job,
And it was back to work on Monday to write news articles for snobs.
All in all a good week that ended in bad health,
Turning ill reminded me to take care of myself.
Monday night I ended up watching an International football team,
But, they’re more Ebbsfleet united than Arsenal if you understand what I mean.
An Irish pub team in Cannes formed an elite group of football mad blokes,
I was sent to report on their football-which if I’m honest is a bit of a joke!
If matches were won by who’s nicest, this team would be top of the league,
But it’s not and they lost 8-1 in a manner that even shocked me!
The story was good enough to appear in this month’s Riviera Times,
In fact I’m in it a lot which is clearly a good sign.
Perhaps due to the downturn in weather, which has gone from mild to freezing,
I caught a shitty illness, which gave me symptoms like headaches and sneezing.
I don’t want to go in to depth, because it’s really not polite,
But this nasty little bug did no favours for my ….. (sorry mum)!
So for my days off I was pretty damn useless and stayed on the sofa all day,
But thankfully I had Jack Bauer, who makes James Bond look feeble and gay.
24 put me in my place and gave context to my situation,
I had a bit of a cold, whilst California faced nuclear devastation!
So I decided to risk it and go out and see some friends,
Besides, watching consecutive episodes meant I had already reached the end.
By Saturday I felt alright, I was backup on my feet,
Just as well since I came in for a very special treat.
One of the Irish pub footballers-his name is Joost-he’s dutch
Said, “do you want to come to watch Monaco?” I sad, “yes thanks very much”!
He took me there, he drove me back and the ticket was completely free
If I hadn’t known better I’d have said he fancied me!
The bloke’s a real legend and the game was quite a treat.
But there’s far more atmosphere at the Monaco homeless meet and greet.
Monaco is full of people who’d rather be at the port,
Which shows fans can come and go but supporters can’t be bought.
To top off this very strange weekend, I went out for a Sunday roast,
But if would have turned out better if I’d have gone for jam on toast.
I’ve never had a roast without the Yorkshire puds,
A vital ingredient that makes the feast so good.
No cranberry sauce or bread sauce, the vegetables were a farce
The gravy looked and tasted as if it came out the head chef’s …….(sorry mum)
But never mind I’ll live and learn and get on with my week,
Unlike Jack Bauer’s enemies, for whom the future’s rather bleak.

Week 5

Money makes the world go round but can also make it stop
Having none or little means I can hardly do a lot!
Adapting to a budget forces one to do things another way,
Which can have a very negative impact on a normal routine day.
A cheaper bus which makes me late starts the week badly
And lack of funds confines me to nights of French t.v.
But what do they say, is it "the best things in life are free"?
So I borrowed the second season of Grey's Anatomy.
This resscued me from TF1 or M6 or Canal Plus,
Or TMC and ARTE for which I have no use!
But watching DVDs when Nice is right outside
Is such a crying shame and a real waste of time.
So Thursday night I went out and splashed out on a coke
I stayed out economically using just a 5 euro note!
Friday was even cheaper I didn't even spend a cent,
Perhpas it's for this that the clichéd term is meant!
Both nights were spent with friends, both nights were real good fun,
I barely spent a penny and didn' steal from anyone.
Saturday I went mental and went to Monaco
I guess if you wanted to save money it's where you wouldn't plan to go!
But I can't be a tight arse forever, my buttocks would get sore,
Besides it's only 4 euros 80 for what the french call an "aller retour"
So Monaco on a budget meant walking lots and lots
The place has a charming beauty and plenty of tourist spots
The Grand Prix circuit's Spelugue bends or the casino in the town
Japanes tourists filmed so much they wore their camera batteries down!
Bentleys are ten a penny, Skodas and Ladas are not
You're classed as poor if you don't own a million dollar yacht.
But money isn't everything, it's not guaranteed to make me smile,
Unlike speaking to good friends I haven't heard from in a while
I can already hear you saying, "Fraser has turned soft"
Go on, go ahead, laugh and joke and scoff
But have you ever had a phone call or a letter in your postbox
When you're constantly afraid of being the lad your friends forgot?
Now i'm being quite dramatic, perhaps I should tone it down,
Being i'm mistaken for a gay and the "sisters" come around!
But anyway i'm babbling and time is getting on,
Perhpas it's about time that I end this one,
I'll leave you with some good news, my money's just come through
Out the red and in the black, and i've now got so much to do.
First things first- a haircut and maybe some new threads
But I need to find a good "Coiffeuse" since here the mullet's not quite dead!

Week 4

I knew this would be a good week, after Saturday's result,
England squeezed past France saving me from insults.
I watched the game in an Irish bar surrounded by the French
Who screamed "Allez les Bleus" or cheered when Chabal came off the bench.
The French are briliant losers and I was left alone,
As I sang "swing low, sweet charriot, coming forth to carry me home"!
Monday brought with it, two scary propositions
I had to go to a press conference about classical musicians.
But far far worse and frightening i'd have to go alone,
Believe me when I tell you this shook me to my bone.
This isn't jumping in at the deep end of your local swimming pool,
This is trying to cross the Atlantic and trying it front crawl!
But it went really well and I felt part of the press
Although I turned up in a suit and therfore overdressed
Everyone else came along in jeans and someone brought their dog,
Yet another thing that's weird, over here in the land of the frog.
Everything else is rosy, and i've sampled Nice's nightlife
But there's alot to be desired if Wayne's bar is a highlight.
A prick on a laptop computer mixing really random songs,
Anyone who mixes Greenday with Justice is certainly no Pete Tong.
People start dancing on the tables by 10 o'clock at night,
For me it's the lack of locals that confirms it's really shite.
I'm desperate to find a decent club to throw some foreign shapes,
Since Wayne's bar gets a little crowded and plays music that I hate.
Anway that's it for now, i'll update you all real soon,
Hopefully after hearing some dirty techno tune!

Week 3

This week's not been so great, work has felt like work,
It's been a while since I have thought so much and my head's begun to hurt.
I spend too much time watching t.v. and not enough outside,
Which is stupid since in Nice it's sunny all the time.
French t.v. is mostly dubbed and awful quality,
Which hasn't stopped me falling for Emilie Albertini!
She presents "Change de Look" a programme about fashion,
But it's not the clothes I care about, she's my biggest passion!
The presenters of the weather here can be one of two things;
A leary bloke with facial hair or a bird in skinny jeans
I see it all the time, I promise i'm no liar,
A man with a dodgy goatee or women in alluring attire!
"Alerte Cobra" is a cop show, on France's answer to channel 5
It's a German show dubbed into French so the "Gendarmes" are "Polizei"
In truth I am addicted I watch it when I can,
The reliable German pros always get their man.
They drive a swish Mercedes and never miss a trick,
A ginger engineer is their formiddable sidekick.
But enough of dodgy t.v. all I do here is complain.
I've found things that make me happy and things to keep me sane,
Croissants or a pain au chocolat or a tasty warm baguette,
And I always smile when i'm published on the internet.
I like watching people busk for euros or even just centimes,
Whether a man on his guitar or a whole breakdancing team.
On Sunday, me and my housemate, went to see the man-made waterfall
Which obviously precedes Sarkozy but even Charles de Gaulle.
But the "cascade" is indicative of what i've found with Nice,
Just as I think i've seen the whole jigsaw I find another piece.
While this week may have been hard, it's made me realise,
That i'm privy to the beauty here hidden from tourist's eyes!

Avoiding dog poo!

In France it's everywhere, it's their way of life,
It's their daily routine-they see it day and night.
I'll draw some parallels so you can really see,
No one can avoid inevitability.
Flyers at the union, questions during class,
Things like these just wait then they bite you in the arse.
Concentrate all you want, it only takes one lapse,
For your brand new trainers to smell of canine crap.
Spot it on the pavement, or lurking on a bridge,
Just do whatever you can to avoid that familiar squidge!

A Search for English Tea

Earlier this week, I focused on a task,
To buy some English tea-is that so much to ask?
I know Frenchies like their 'Tizane'-green tea to you and I,
But they're not too fond of PG tips and I can't fathom why.
I went to the supermarket and searched around the store,
Until a shelf-stacker thought to ask me, 'What are you looking for?'
I said in my best French that i'd love some English tea,
She didn't mess about she took me there quickly.
When I was at the shelf I thought i'd be real snappy,
There seemed to be enough to keep any tea fan happy.
After some deliberation I went for Lipton tea,
Their boast of "thé Anglais" really did the trick for me.
I settled down that evening with what I thought would be a brew,
Yet tasted what resembled liquified dog poo!
I'm sorry that's not pleasant, but imagine how I felt,
And if you want a worse thought -think how my breath smelt!
With the tea bags in the bin, I tried another shop,
I found the teas no problem and ignored the herbal lot.
I searched for names I could pronounce or brands I recognised,
And sure enough Tetley's tea appeared before my eyes.
If Lipton tea was cotton, then this was surely silk,
I bought these bags quickly as well as getting milk.
I sat down with my purchase and even read the box,
Lipton let me down, but Tetley? Surely not.
Tea from 'Angleterre' and Middlesex to boot,
I'm not sure if the tea was picked there, perhaps i'll chase its roots.
Once again I reclined as I put mug to lips
And once again I found the tea to taste far more like shit!
But this time it wasn't the tea, the milk tasted like cream,
Sometimes the bloody French make me want to scream!
With that stiff upper lip I eventually got that decent mug of tea,
Which shows you can take me out of England but not the England out of me!

Week 1

It's funny how things work, it's funny how things go.
Fears and anxieties can melt away like snow.
I've been here just a week and yet feel so settled in,
Had it not been for Bongo i wouldn't have known where to begin.
My brother was my saviour he really helped me out.
Since he is a traveller he knows what its about.
I've landed on my feet here and i owe it all to fate,
Had i spent longer eating breakfast i'd have missed my new housemate.
Irene-that's my housemate- is really very sweet,
When I first arrived here she helped me out a treat.
She cooked me lunch and dinner- both a speciality
Dodgy pumpkin rice and her hand-crafted gnocci.
We have our separate rooms and share the rest of the flat
But climbing the steps to get there, puts me on my back.
But navigating 5 flights of stairs is a comparatively small price to pay,
When you consider what's on my doorstep every single day!
Life's not a bed of roses, sometimes it's not so great,
I arrived to be greeted by thunder and it's only sunny 7 days out of 8!
Work started for me last Monday, in a pokey little village called Drap
I spend hours writing articles of interest for the lovable English ex-pats.
I've written of closures of tunnels and hotels and permits and tax,
But some of it's far more exciting than all the aforementioned crap.
I was lucky to write about sport, I detailed the French rugby result
And only once have the editor's changes felt like a harmful insult!
I wrote 500 words on a measure that might save lives in Nice,
But the editor tore through it and changed every last word in the piece.
Apart from that i'm quite happy, i'm learning on the job,
The humbling I received will help, despite making me feel like a nob!

Beginning

Hello everyone, welcome to this blog

It's to keep you all updated with my life and my french job

For those that pay attention you'll know i'm now in Nice

Living out my third year as part of my degree

This way is easier than writing individual letters

And we can keep in contact now we're not together

I'll let you know the details about my life in depth

I'll tell you all my stories no matter how far-fetched

I want something in return, I want your stories too

I need something to keep me occupied when i've nothing to do

So when I get all emotional and think of friends back home

I can read your anecdotes and not feel all alone

I'm not looking for sympathy I know i'll be alright

Which is my other motive for maintaining this site

I think i'll want to show-off, and rub it in your face

While you're studying or working i'm living out my fate

That has given me a sandy beach and warm breeze from the Med

Just think you'll be an envy green while i'm a sunburnt red

I don't want to get too sentimental, don't think i'm going soft

But i know i'll miss friends and family i'll miss them all alot

Please check back and read this blog every now and then

To check up on the life and times of me your dear dear friend

I'll upload any photos or write a little rhyme

On the life that I am leading away from all you guys

As for now I have to stop drivelling on so much

But check back soon since this blog is my way of keeping in touch