Provence Day 2: Aix en Provence and Nimes

Andy woke with cold feet (literally) after our cramped night in Roussillion, and hit the road early, on a path to Aix en Provence. Our top priority for the day is finding a place to stay that is both indoors and has a bathroom. The town was pretty low key, so we just walked around and eventually found a restaurant with internet access. No one had replied to our requests for couches in Provence, it looked like we might be out of luck again. We decided we weren't really "feeling" Aix en Provence and thought we would check out Arles or Nimes, back towards the East. We realized at one point that we had left the phone in our car, but when we got back, there was a text message from a very nice man named Cyril. He saw our message and would be happy to host us in Nimes- but he wasn't actually going to be in town that night, we would have to meet up with his friend Melanie, who had a spare key. This was not typically the way things went, but with our only other option being sleeping in the car again, we took advantage. Before getting to Nimes, we stopped in a small town called Martigues, located between the Mediterranean and a very large lake. Because of the wind, waves were crashing violently over sea walls set a few meters into the lake to stop them from crashing onto the road nearby. Despite the high winds, it was a beautiful day. We walked along the lake for a little while, where they were hanging lights in trees for what looked to be some sort of party later on that day. After the walk, we finished our drive to times, calling Melanie to solidify where we would meet up . That phone call went something like this:

Melanie (H for her) in strong French accent: Hello?
Marisa (M for me): Hello, is this Melanie?
H (sounding cautious): Yes this is Melanie...
M: Oh, great! Hi, my name is Marisa, your friend Cyril told us we could call you to meet up and get the key to his apartment that you have!
H: I'm sorry, I cannot understand a word you are saying... who is this?
M (slower, annunciating more, and maybe with a French accent): I am sorry. My name is Marisa. SI-RIL told me to call you.
H: Who?
M: Sir-real? Sigh-ril?
H: Ohhhh! Cyril?
M: Yes! He told us to meet up with you to get his key!
H: I'm sorry, slower please.
M: He told us we could meet up with you and you could give us his key.
H: You want his key?
M: Yes, he told us you have a spare, and maybe we can meet with you to get it?
H: Cyril... he says a lot of things...
M: Ummm... if you can't, it's no big deal, we can figure something else out.

She goes on to explain that she has to work tonight, but she won't be there for another hour, but we can meet her there if we would like. We agree, she gives us the address of the school where she is working with the explanation that it is hard to find, and we set out to find an internet cafe to find this place. About ten minutes later, without finding internet access, I get another phone call from Melanie.

M: Hello?
H: I have a message for you, but I must speak very quickly because my phone is about to die.
M: Okay...
H: Perhaps I can meet you at the corner of Kennedy and Jean (insert very French last name here) in 15 minutes, is that okay? It is a very famous intersection in Nimes.
M: Yes! Can you just spell that out for me?
H: Yes, well, you know Kennedy?
M: Yes.
H: Okay, and J-E-A-N, like the popular French name.
M: Yes...
H: And gee-
M: I'm sorry J or G?
H: gee-

and the phone goes dead. Okay so now we have 15 minutes to race around Nimes, find an internet cafe and get to this corner. Luckily, not two minutes after she hangs up, I see a neon sign that says those precious words, "free wifi" (well, "gratis wifi...) and start shouting jubilantly for Andy to let me out of the car. He goes to find a parking spot, and I head toward the cafe. Between me and it, however, is a busstop with a map of the city, so I decide to check to see if I can figure out where we are and where we need to go. Strangely enough, it looks like we are about a block away from the intersection (Kennedy and Jean Juares it turns out). Great! Andy catches up with me after parking, and we walk to the corner. We are on Jean Juares, but this is not the intersection with Kennedy. We keep walking, and the next several intersections continue to not be with Kennedy. We turn around and go the other way. No luck. We ask someone if they can tell us what direction Kennedy is, and instead of pointing up or down this street, they point down another street! It seems like there IS no intersection between these two streets. We spend the next 15 minutes running around in circles, searching in vain. At this point, it has been about 25 minutes and we think that we are out of luck. The phone rings again!

M: Hello?
H: Hello, yes, I'm sorry, I think I may have sent you to an address that doesn't exist. Where are you?
M (?!?!?!?): Ah okay, that makes sense, I don't really know where we are, I thought it was the corner of Kennedy and Jean Juares... where are you?

She tells us she is in an Italian cafe down the street, and after a few minutes, running full speed because we are making this very nice girl late for work, we find her! We immediately start thanking and apologizing profusely for meeting us and for making her wait, respectively. She seems unaffected by the whole ordeal, and insists that we all sit and have a drink together. Over drinks, she draws us maps showing how to get to Cyril's apartment, warns us that it may not be very large or clean, and reccommends several cheap eateries in walking distance. Eventually we ask what he does for work. Well, he is a clown and acrobat in the circus, but tonight he is working as an extra in a film being shot down in Martigues... a nighttime beach party scene... just what we saw being set up a few hours earlier! We part ways with Melanie and head to Cyril's for the night where we slept among juggling apparatus and costumes, and showered next to his unicycle, which was stored in the bathroom.

Seriously... what a nice guy.