i miss my french class.
i miss saturday morning as i knew it.
20-mins tram trip down to st kilda and a couple of minutes walk, while the world's waking up.
(at times it felt so tranquil that it seemed like the world was mine.)
me, my soy latte, my french books, with my ipod playing french chansons.
and i was always so happy to do it that i didn't mind waking up so early on saturday mornings.
and for those 4 hours lessons, i was content.
i miss ccf.
daily long trips to salemba and i was almost always late.
us, the room, the freezing cold aircon, les dames, la médiathèque.
daily short breaks in between with all the little snacks.
daily long lunches and chats afterwards.
and for those 7 weeks, i found a place so close to home.
i miss learning french.
i hate knowing that mine's getting a little rusty.