Annecy: The Cows come down from the Mountains, and other tales

Getting from London to Annecy was a long train ride indeed, especially as I was delayed in the tunnel for about half an hour as apparently immigrants had broken into the tunnel, luckily no-one was hurt and we were soon on our way. The irritated mood on the train soon abated however when our new train conductor hopped on at Lille. We were soon treated to a Frenchman energetically announcing on the loud-speakers in English (imagine a stereotypical thick French accent) about how we were going to the South of France with 'lots of good cheese and mmmmmmmmm can you smell ze lavender!!?' regardless to say he had the compartment in hysterics and it made my day!

 Finally I arrived in Annecy and made my way to the apartment that would be my home for the next five months. After a slight disaster with the landlord thinking I was coming the next day I finally was able to get inside and meet my flatmates. A very nice and quiet Swiss girl, and an extremely exuberant American - they couldn't have been more opposite if they had tried! The flat itself was something I got used to and grew to really like after time, although my initial impression was perhaps not the best. 

The apartment was old and had its little quirks - don't touch the handrail in the bathroom or it will fall out of the wall, turn the electric jug halfway to the side or it won't flick on, the list went on (let's not forget my personal favourite, the TV remote that was so disgusting my flatmates had glad-wrapped it!) But it was warm, the internet worked, and the kitchen had a gas stove so I was content. And the longer I stayed, the more I liked it (this was probably helped along by my change of rooms in December when my flatmate left. New bedroom pictured below)

The view from the little balcony (which I'm sure is lovely in Summer but rather out of use in Winter) was breathtaking, and it was one of my favourite things whilst living there to watch the sun rise above the mountains in the morning tinting them golden and reflecting the snow, and sinking below the skyline in the evening, turning them pink.

I began my French classes on the Monday (having arrived on the Saturday) and was soon settled into a routine. I made good friends with a couple of girls in my class, namely two Colombians named Jennifer and Bibianna, and an extremely kind American girl named Emily. The great thing about my Colombian friends were they didn't speak English, forcing us to practice French!

The first event of note in my new little town came the week after I arrived, and was a traditional event called 'Retour des Alpages' or the Cows returning from the mountain. 

This festival is an old tradition marking the beginning of winter, as the cattle spend their summer up in the mountains until the weather turns, in winter it is too cold for them to survive up there so they are brought back down by the Farmers. 

All sorts of animals went through the streets, from cows to sheep to my personal favourite, a gaggle of spirited geese! (Note the guy on the left with the goats who looks like he might of had just a tad too much wine before coming)

My American flatmate loved photos, so I ended up in far more than I would usually like!

A photogenic farmer with his cow.

After a number of animals came a procession of a different sort, more people dressed in traditional outfits, people carrying flags, more tractors and even these army men!

I was rather overexcited by this procession of dogs as they actually had the stereotypical barrel around their necks! Apparently popular culture says that these barrels carried brandy in them for avalanche victims to keep them warm until they were rescued. I somehow doubt the validity of such a claim, but they looked awesome with their little barrels nonetheless (although I was put off by the copious amounts of drool).

In the usual French way, the festival was a happy mixture of organisation and chaos, with cows wandering off in all directions creating traffic jams everywhere, and organized cleaners following them to clean up their rather bad smelling presents dropped all over the road.

This photo is one of my favorites simply because of how odd it is. If you saw this with no context how confused would you be! This old man on skis was wandering up and down the road with an enormous bushy mustache and looked suspiciously like Monsieur Leclerc from 'Allo 'Allo.
I thought he was hilarious.