Paris in the Springtime

Ya see, I’ve moved away from Montpellier and up to the outskirts of Paris. (No I haven’t been burning cars or screaming at the government to revoke short term employment contracts.) But it’s far from paris dudes, it’s 30 clicks out but it may as well be 300, cause I live on a farm.
This place is a dream for all pedologists, agronomists, or 17th century French nobles, but for students it's pretty boring. Which, I guess, is a blessing since I'm focusing as much on my studies as possible and the fact that this agricultural community is totally disconnected from Paris helps in that way.
I live in a dorm room which I can't complain about, clean, big enough, internet, 3rd story view, and bathroom, sweet. But I feel like I'm back at boarding school again in Rhode Island. This place is like a bubble, or some kind of biodome.
The National Institute for Agronomy has made its headquarters on the property of this old castle which some Agronomophile noble bequethed to them back in the 19th century. After Versailles, the Grignon chateau was the next biggest community/construction west of Paris until urbanisation happened. But since the urbanisation must have missed the area around the chateau because I am definitely isolated from anywhere else!
So we have a 1 mile long driveway, a guard at the gates, stables and horses running around, farming stuff going on, absolute silence at night, and a big old castle which is home to our library.
There are tractors running around all day disrupting our classes, dudes in uniforms planting experimental crops, and an Adam’s family castle at the center of it all. The place gets weirder and weirder all the time. The other day I found out that these freaks straight-up installed portholes into the sides of some of their cows!!
Now they can look directly into the their 3rd stomachs and examine their digestive processes. That would be freaky and unnatural enough, but I suspect that it’s something more villainous.
I think that the cows are actually robots and they send their little soldiers out INSIDE of the cows to survey the fields of foreign ranchers. Either that or considering how obsessed the French are with degustational practices (food prep and then subsequent consumption), it wouldn't surprise me if they are monitoring the ideal time to eat their beef from the inside-out.
Yeah, that’s why they pay me.
So that's why I feel like I'm in a bubble I guess.