Most of my first experiences have been connected to the Vanderbilt program, but Brian and I have done some exploring of our own. Aix is small enough to be knowable but lage enough to not be too simple. The main industry is undeniably tourism, and there are designer shops lining the streets which lead to our apartment. These are matched by an uncanny number of restaurants.
The city's architecture is mainly 19th century tile-topped stucco buildings dotted in and out with catholic churches that ring for mass in imperfect harmony most days of the week. Our own building is of the same breed but recently renovated, most likely in the eighties. It features a full kitchen, 2 beds, 2 baths, a living room, a balcony, and a loft to which Kevin has firmly laid claim. We have a washing machine and a drying rack.
Rue Mejanes smells like waffles. I have not yet traced the source of this smell, but it is consistent and lasts until about noon everyday. The street is narrow enough that an open window serves as a megaphone to all the conversations of the merchants and customers below, and additionally the 5 and 6 a.m. car alarms, which make neither Brian nor me very happy.
Jet lag has thusfar not been an issue, which leads me to believe it will not become one. The first night I slept for twelve hours, which isn't altogether out of character. Brian slept for fourteen, however, and was thoroughly dumbfounded. The weather here is predictably fantastic, with temperatures in the high seventies and a strong-willed sun decimating any cloud cover it may find.
Today we are taking a group trip to Cassis for a coastline boat tour and day at the popular beach.
Au revoir,
Alex
