Celebrating My 40th in Greece

 

Let me set the stage first: we are not peak-season travelers. The thought of waiting in a two-hour line at the Acropolis while being elbowed by a selfie stick is not something I enjoy. So when we decided Greece would be the destination for my 40th birthday, we went in January. No crowds, some closed restaurants, intermittent rain, and—as it turns out—more feral cats wanting cuddles than I have ever encountered in my life. I am allergic to cats. This becomes relevant.

We started with a brief layover in Munich, which I want to flag because I was genuinely surprised by how much the city's administrative center looks... Soviet? The blocky, imposing architecture caught me off guard. I should have known better (I did not know better). 

What I did know better was to eat at Augustiner, a traditional German pub that's been around forever, where I had the best vegan sausage of my entire life. I also had a vegan curry that was so good I'm still thinking about it. Munich: would recommend for the sausage alone.

CRETE

Here is why I chose Crete as our first stop: it has a 6,000-year-old toilet at Knossos Palace, home of the ancient Minoan civilization, and I wanted to see it.

I did not see it. It was closed for preservation purposes. But, I understand. If I had a 6,000-year-old toilet, I'd want to protect it too. That is a reasonable and correct decision by the archeological preservation community. It was still a big bummer.

What we did get to see at Knossos was genuinely spectacular. The Minoans were building sophisticated structures and drainage systems millennia ago, and walking through the ruins—even partially reconstructed after centuries of earthquake and fire damage—made me stop and think about just how long humans have been trying to figure out how to live well. The frescoes on the walls were beautiful in a way that made me wonder why we stopped doing that. My walls have paint and a few framed things. The Minoans had elaborate, colorful painted murals that came out at you in a kind of 3D effect. Are we regressing?

The next day at the Museum of Heraklion cemented this opinion. The Minoan pottery alone—including one piece with a gloriously chaotic squiggly octopus on it—was more impressive to Alex and me than the later Hellenistic Greek work. I know that's maybe a controversial take. I stand by it.

We also toured an olive and dragon fruit farm, which but was actually one of my favorite parts of Crete. It was just us, wandering through ancient olive orchards with a sweeping view of the island, learning about sustainable farming practices amid water limitations, and how Crete is one of the world's main olive producers! We brought home olive oil and dragon fruit jam. 

Food in Crete was quiet—it being off-season meant a lot of restaurants were closed, and we had a few nights of hunting around in the near-dark for somewhere to eat. We found a good spot by the pier in Heraklion that hit the spot. The food didn't blow us away overall, but Crete won on vibes. It felt like Puerto Rico: a little chaotic, island energy, deeply beautiful.

MILOS

Milos is a small island in the Cyclades, and we were almost certainly the only tourists there. We stayed in a fisherman's house right on the water. It was picturesque and rainy and covered in cats.

The cats of Milos do not care about your allergies. They are grieving the loss of the tourist season, and they are looking for affection wherever they can find it. Multiple times, Alex had to gently but firmly remove a cat from my person before I started sneezing. One cat found us in the airport while we were waiting for our flight out and immediately started making biscuits on my lap. Greece is simply a country that has decided cats are everyone's problem now.

Despite the cat situation, Milos was wonderful. We had one full day where a water surge warning kept us inside—the water levels around our house were expected to get dangerously high, so we were essentially storm-locked—and we read, napped, and ate groceries we'd walked up a long hill to buy the day before. It was deeply restorative. I didn't realize how much I needed a full day of doing nothing until I had it.

When the rain calmed, we tried to visit the Byzantine-era catacombs on the island, only to find them closed. (A theme emerged on this trip.) However—and this is one of those travel moments you can't plan for—the person who managed the site happened to walk by while we were standing there processing our disappointment. They let us in anyway. It was just us three wandering quietly through these ancient burial chambers, taking in the carved walls in near-silence. Absolutely worth the wet walk uphill.

We also hiked up to see the ruins of an old amphitheater and the hillside where Venus de Milo was originally found. It was a bit treacherous—soggy and steep—and I was genuinely concerned about both of us sliding down at some point. We did not slide down.

ATHENS

We flew from Milos to Athens on my actual birthday. I turned 40. Athens greeted me, reminding me very much of San Francisco: hilly, dense, hard to park in, full of scrappy energy and beautiful chaos. We drove around trying to find parking for what felt like a significant portion of my birthday. We found it.

My bff Marion joined us that night, and we went out for a spectacular birthday dinner. Too much food. Plates that were too big. Every bite is perfect. That is exactly how a 40th birthday dinner should go.

The next morning, we took a mythology tour of Athens, which started with a climb to the Acropolis to see the Parthenon. Every friend who'd been to Greece warned me about the tourist crowds at the Acropolis. Reader, we did not wait in a single line. January in Greece is something else. We walked right up that hill—and as San Franciscans, we did it without complaint while watching the rest of the tour group struggle—and stood in front of columns that have been standing for thousands of years.

It was a genuinely spiritual experience. The views of Athens from the top are sprawling. You can see the port from up there. Alex, who has spent years reading about ancient Greece, got quietly emotional about finally being there, which I found very moving to watch.

Worth noting: the carvings and reliefs you see on the Parthenon are replicas. All the original artwork has been moved to museums for preservation. So anything you see in situ is an exact copy. I found this both a little deflating and also completely correct from a preservation standpoint. A recurring theme.

After the Acropolis, the tour ended at the Athenian Agora, an old Greek market-turned-public park that I could have stayed in for hours. On our walk afterward, we stumbled into a tiny, ancient Byzantine church sitting improbably in the middle of a city square—just plopped there, quietly protected, surrounded by the modern city. We walked in. The interior was covered floor-to-ceiling in colorful artwork. I loved it.

I also found a figurine in the flea market that has nothing to do with Greece, but it made me very happy.

Our tour guide rolled her eyes when we asked about Patisserie Artemis and their baklava gelato. She called it a tourist trap. I went anyway, because I am a person who makes her own mistakes. Friends - it was not a tourist trap. It was just us alone in a quiet patisserie, eating the most satisfying combination of flaky, creamy, crunchy things I've had in recent memory. I brought some back for Marion. I would go back to Athens specifically for this ice cream, and I am not embarrassed about that.

The Acropolis Museum was one of the highlights of the whole trip. Underneath the building are the ruins of a second-century BC community—visible through glass floors throughout the museum—and I found that more compelling than almost anything upstairs. (The pipes! The infrastructure! I cannot help myself.) The museum itself is airy and impressively curated, and they had an exhibit showing the original color of the marble sculptures. Turns out, ancient Greek statues were brightly painted—vivid colors, not the white marble we associate with classical antiquity. Seeing reconstructions of how they actually looked was a genuine revelation.

We also took a marble-carving workshop with an old craftsman who barely spoke English and, for the first part of the session, seemed mostly to be messing with our heads through cryptic commentary on creativity. I was suspicious. But then he handed each of us a three-pound slab of marble and told us to carve something. Carving marble is hard. Alex took to it surprisingly well. I was overambitious. Marion, who insisted she wasn't creative, made something beautiful. Two hours of feeling connected to thousands of years of craft.

DELPHI

For our final adventure, Alex and I drove out to Delphi for the Temple of Apollo. On the way, we stopped in a small, nearly empty roadside coffee shop where the owner had an enormous painting of San Francisco's Painted Ladies on his wall. We took it as a sign.

I had absolutely no idea there was skiing in Greece. And yet: near Delphi, there is a mountain ski resort town where, apparently, all of Greece had gathered. We'd expected to be alone again. We were not alone. The town was full of alpine energy, meats and cheeses, and a notable absence of the salads and oils that had been the backbone of our diet everywhere else. The mountain views were breathtaking.

The next morning, we visited Delphi itself—empty, as expected—including the archeological museum (griffin statues, very well preserved, highly recommend) and the walk up to the Temple of Apollo. In the rain and snow. The stadium at the top is closed due to the weather. Still absolutely worth it. Jagged columns reaching into a cloudy sky, cliffs all around, no crowds. It was the right way to end the trip.

One more observation about Greece: the street dogs. They are everywhere, clearly being fed by their communities, and extremely good at demanding affection. At one point, a dog caused an actual traffic jam by sitting in the road to be petted by tourists on a passing bus. Alex and I spent the entire drive back to Athens joking about which dogs we would steal and bring home. We did not steal any dogs. We thought about it.

The Verdict

Greece in January is good. We ate incredible things (the dolmas! the salads! the lukumades! the baklava ice cream!), saw thousands of years of history with almost no one else around, got into closed catacombs through sheer luck, carved marble, got sneezed on by cats, and I turned 40 in a city that's been doing this whole civilization thing for a very, very long time.

Both Alex and I came home genuinely recharged. I was ready to go back to work. That almost never happens.

We'd go back to Milos, to more of the Cyclades, maybe to Athens when it's warm and alive. And I would absolutely go back to Knossos to try again for that toilet. They can't close it forever.

A Danish Break

The famous Nyhavn port

The CT Lawyer and I try to take international holidays every year. For this year's holiday, we had a deep desire to go to places that were clean and quiet (and low risks of giardia - my own request). We chose Denmark and Iceland on our two-week trip.

It was indeed clean and quiet.

Much of our trip to Denmark was centered around Copenhagen. We had Airbnb-ed a very quaint boathouse on the edge of the city, which meant we woke up to beautiful rays of sun on placid water.

Much of our visit to Denmark was simply walking around the streets of Copenhagen and other towns, admiring the quirky old buildings alongside the sleek new ones. We walked so much mostly because it was really enjoyable and quiet to do so (and we were blessed with great weather). We also unexpectedly walked into Nyhavn, the hotspot port that all tourists orbit, which was indeed a lovely place. I was more fascinated with the port's great many public toilets along the waterway...but the colorful buildings were lovely to look at, too.

We also dedicated a lot of our trip to enjoying the great food in Denmark. I mean, Denmark is known for its amazing culinary renaissance, and we can confirm the truth in that. Even if we weren't eating delicious food at a Michelin-starred restaurant, I loved how vibrant and colorful the food was in most of our meals. I also was so pleased to have so many gluten-free options, including really tasty cinnamon rolls from Landbageriet! I ordered a box of rolls for myself on day one to consume each day we stayed in the country (they were that good).

One day we met up with my friend Martin who lives in Malmo, Sweden (it's only a 30-minute train ride to Copenhagen). Martin showed us around some tourist areas while we caught up and joked about American politics. He took us first to a greenhouse in the city so we could enjoy butterflies, and then led us to the Vor Frelsers church so we could scale the corkscrew steeple. It was a harrowing climb up the stairs - they were so narrow and curvy! It was clear the staircases were old. Once we neared the top of the steeple, we ended up outside, clinging to railings as we stepped up the corkscrew incline!! My fear of heights dutifully kicked in and I waited for CT Lawyer and Martin by the indoor stairs, grasping the building for dear life. The cool thing about going up and down the stairs for the steeplechase, though, were the hodgepodges of assorted churchy things scattered on the different stair landings - a heap of cherub statues lying down on this level, an old organ patiently waiting on the next....it was like hide-and-seek with Christian artifacts!

We then ambled towards Christiania, a micronation within Copenhagen that's all about free love and weed (but we didn't consume any - truly!). The lakeside community was very much doused with hippy paraphernalia...but honestly? The place looked kind of sad and run down. The buildings were worn significantly and there were lots of tourists pilfering magnets and mini bongs out in the open, which made it feel less like an alternative living experiment and more like a region in a dystopian theme park (with some artwork definitely appropriate for unsavory adults). We stopped for a vegetarian lunch (that was actually quite delicious) and headed out to take a quick look at the fun things in the Museum of Design and eat ice cream before Martin headed back home.

Later that night CT Lawyer and I went out for a nice dinner date at Hoest. We opted for a prix fixe dinner that was paired with mocktails. I cannot tell you just how incredible the meal was, but we were both floored by each of the dishes (and there were so many!). One of the mocktails was a tomato juice seltzer, and to be honest it was mind-blowing. I'll be thinking about it for years to come.

The one Michelin-star restaurant we reserved in Denmark (sorry, Noma) was so we could enjoy a Sunday brunch at Den Rode Cottage. When arriving, we found ourselves in a wooded area with a sweet little red house in the middle of a clearing - I was enchanted (...for a price! And the restaurant is out of the city and in a very fancy little town full of tennis courts and high-end shops.) We had a charming brunch that had a mashup of quintessential breakfast dishes for each course (pancakes, toast, eggs, etc.).

After my pants were charmed off at brunch, we cabbed over to a suburb called Fredericksburg to visit the Cistern Museum. The neat thing about this place was that, since it was historically a community cistern, it was underground and inside a bucolic park. The art exhibit in the quiet, dark, musty museum was simple and fun - there were soft balls shuttled around the cisterns on pulleys that would eventually ding one of the many singing bowls in the space, making nice meditative echoes.

We walked back slowly to the center of Copenhagen, making stops for rehydration along the way. Did we visit Tivoli Gardens? No, but we did walk past it! I know, I know...everyone insisted on us visiting Tivli, but while walking past we couldn't bring ourselves to disrupt our relaxing time with the buzz of a theme park.

One of the last days we were in Denmark we rented a car and drove across the country four hours to the oldest town in Denmark - Ribe. When we entered Ribe, we parked at the Viking Museum and explored the exhibitions inside. I have to say, it was a great museum - I highly recommend. After that, we meandered around the old town, admiring buildings that were so old that structures were sagging dramatically. We also visited the old cathedral. It was a really lovely respite from urban exploration.

We got back to Copenhagen in time for dinner. We swung by an outdoor market before they closed.

Before we left the next day, we wanted to make sure we could see a few of the Forgotten Giants hidden in different parts of the country. These art installations aim to get people exploring in nature more. It worked! We had to hike around an industrial park into a grassy meadow to find one; the other one required us parking at some stranger's house and trek up a forested hill. It was fun!

And then we were off to Iceland

Some final thoughts on Denmark I'd like to share:

• Toilets: The place is SO TOILET FRIENDLY! It's a big deal for me, and I was so pleased to keep finding toilets in almost every situation where I had an urge.
• Bees: We experienced a lot of bees swarming us. Almost every day there was a short period where we were surrounded by either bees or hornets. I'm not sure what that was about...climate change?
• Food: I already said this, but there really is some amazing food in Denmark! Just be warned that it's pricey. The ice cream there is ample and recommended, as well.
• Living vs Touring: While Denmark isn't exactly an exciting place to visit for most tourists, we were so excited about how livable Denmark really is. We read about it in the news a lot, and it was clear how true it was to us. There are so parks everywhere, and we saw many dogs frolicking around with their humans (this is very important to us). Copenhagen is on the water, and we got to use a ferry quite a bit to travel up and down the city, which is soothing. Some of the apartments there even had docks into the water with kayaks and floats stationed for use, which is a new life goal for me. Lastly, we didn't see many police lurking around, and people even honked more pleasantly (aka never)! If we only could figure out how to move there...

Akagera National Park

I didn't really get to see this area at all. Nope.

My traveling around East Africa has been more difficult than I had expected. I have a few weeks left, but a lot of my travel ideas, like going to Bujumbura in Burundi, have been shelved by either safety precautions, lack of travel buddies, or financial limitations. 

For example, I've been urged to go see the gorillas while I'm here, but it costs a whopping $250 just to enter the park to see the gorillas! And that doesn't include the $120 vehicle you need to hire to get to the park, because regular taxis are not able to enter, either. And it doesn't include food or lodging, either. I am heavily debating it, and while I know it's a great experience, part of me really has to ask myself - am I willing to shell out so much for something I can do in the DRC or Uganda for MUCH cheaper? Rwanda definitely caters to a more lucrative crowd, and discourage backpacker-like tourists (ahem, that's me). And things here are rather inconvenient. I went to the Rwandan Development Board yesterday to try to get a gorilla permit, but they decided that they were not going to be open, despite advertising their hours to all. They didn't apologize or promise a discount - they just looked at me and the other gorilla-hopefuls there with the air of, "Well, that's too bad for you. That's life. Get over it." 

Closing In on Memorial Week

Cow dung as art. No, really.

This week was a slow week at school. It was the week before Genocide Memorial Week, and school morale was pretty low as a result. The day before break began (which is today, also known as Good Friday), students were already having upset moments and getting a bit teary-eyed during class.

So I kept it easy this week, and gave them a lot of down time to do whatever they needed to do before holiday. Like, say, for example, my final project that was due two days ago.....

But what do you say to your students, who have to endure a week-long break filled with painful memories and sad meetings, to wish them well? Have a good break? Well, that seemed insensitive and a bit naive. I felt a bit helpless - could I say anything that would be appropriate for this special circumstance? Have a peaceful break?

What do you say?!

Umuganda Day

So yesterday I woke up with my phone not working and my modem turned off completely.

Imagine my panic when, at 6:45am on a Saturday, I find myself completely incapable of contacting the outside world. No Skype chat with The Man to jumpstart my day. No phone calls just in case I need to. No nothing. My roommates were still asleep (OF COURSE! Because who else would be dense enough to get up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday?!), and none of them heard my desperate mewing at their closed doors, hoping to find a functioning phone and/or working modem stick.

I wept quietly in my room for a while, until I finally resolved to nap for a few more hours, and then head to the Tigo store in a few hours when it opened.

When I went to the Tigo store, everything worked perfectly fine. Was I crazy?! How did these things work now? I SWEAR they weren't working a few hours ago!!

Griping About Paris Before Gushing...

The boyfriend and I have been together for over a year now.  We celebrated by going to Paris for a week-long vacation.

Paris, to me, is an old friend.  I got there and welled up with tears, feeling my love for the area well up inside of me and spill over all around me.  I was so, so happy to be back in a city that I love equally to NYC.

Now, if only it hadn't been so cold and rainy the entire time.

And if only the French transportation unions hadn't striked the day before we left, so that it was chaotic while trying to get our luggage off of a conveyor belt.

And if only there wasn't a terrorist threat in Paris the day we left, making our plane the go-to for many foreign travelers.

And if only a handful of bitchy older Frenchies didn't try to rip us off or insult us while we were there.

And if only I didn't get very, very sick for the better half of the trip.

.....Other than that, the trip was pretty good.  But I have to release that all before I get into the details of our trip.  And I have to wait to get the details we typed up from the boyfriend...

The German Invasion

Friday Friday Friday? What happened? Well, I met up with Joris for a while, we went out with his other French friends for a pint (which was a panic purchase on my end since I didn't know what we were doing). Then we went for a drink with his best friend from home and their other friend from somewhere.
Then I went to Gare L'est to get Felix, the German. The little devil that is like a brother to me.
I got him at the station, partially buzzed because I hadn't eaten all day yet managed to have 2 drinks before seeing him. So that means I was speaking in Franglish and annoying poor his poor German self. He didn't feel too well either, unfortunately, so we opted to eat at a brasserie near my apartment so I could have an omelette and he could stomach something light.
The restaurant was cute, but there was a half-crazy-half-wasted man making the most peculiar shrieks at the bar during our hour long meal. Disturbing.
After a nice meal nevertheless, I coaxed him into seeing the Eiffel Tower after the rain stopped a bit. Thinking it was going to be a quiet, leisurely walk, we started our stroll. Then we hit the Woodstock of Paris: le fin du bac. The Bac is the test all French students need to take to pass high school. Ridiculous, yes. And the afterparty has tribal drums, boozing teenagers, and rompous acts of negligence. Felix, being the old man he is, kept saying, "Damn kids...I'm too old for this...with their wreckless drinking...I just want to have a quiet night..." Which reminded me of a grumpy grandpa. So we walked up to the Trocadero to watch the tower sparkle. And within 30 minutes, Felix became well acquainted and rather professional with my personal camera, MUCH moreso than I have ever been.
That was followed by a long walk back.

The next day was started by a trip to the boulanger for some croissants by a sick Felix AND a sick Kim, and a stop at Concorde so we could stroll through the Champs Élysées to look at the concept shops. Felix, being the small-town boy he is, complained most of the day about the amount of walk I made him do. I told him to get a grip.
Metroed over to the Notre Dame area and took more pictures. Went into the cathedral. It was still pretty, but laden with uncaring tourists who were disregarding the notion that Notre Dame is supposed to be a place of worship. Felix took pictures. And complained about the amount of walking he had to do.
I made him walk around school and that area because I had to go to Auriane's birthday meeting over by Odéon. Sure, it was raining, but he didn't seem to mind that. I brought Auriane a little gift, and it was a pleasant little get together. Calm. Felix kept asking me, "This is the French way to paty???" No, Felix. I had this fruit drink called "La Vie En Rose" which tasted like candy! Auriane's boyfriend from England was quite charming, quiet, but we shared a nice conversation. Auriane tried to get me to slip into the British accent, but to no avail.
We finally left the bar and Brandon joined us to get dinner at this really great little place nearby called Del Papa. I'm kinda sad we found this place now; the Italian food was sooo good! And they thought that I was the only one in the group who spoke French, which is funny beause Brandon can speak circles around me. They asked for stories from my "doughnut grandmother", which left them in awe.
Anyways, a very fulfilling and decently priced dinner was followed with us stuffed kids grabbing a gelatto at Amorino's (of course). Quite a deliciously Italian night, if I do say so myself.
Brandon then decided to write his 3 papers at my place that night (which, about 36 hours after that, he's STILL here...working). He didn't do work, though, because Liisa came over and we watched "Zoolander".

Sunday we woke up a bit late, took our time, and Felix and I finally sally forthed to Le Louvre. It rained all day, but it was alright because Felix wanted to spend HOURS in there. Now, remember, I've been there 7 times about now, and I've walked through most of it, but Felix wanted to see it ALL. Twice. Mind you, I'm very sick with a sinus infection now, with no food in the system. It was hard to stay standing, let's say that much. By the end of it, I was glad that the museum closed earlier than usual because it forced us to go home.
Cooked some at night, talked some, joked some, helped Brandon with his work, and slept.

Too bad Felix woke up really late today and made me sprint to Gare L'est (because he can't function travelling alone) so he wouldn't miss his train at 7h24. I didn't get to have a nice morning with him. He made it, though, don't worry.

Driving Through Normandy

This weekend I went with friends to the Normandy coasts. Because Paz insisted on not waiting for when Liisa was available to drive and no one else was of age, I was assigned to rent and drive a car. Driving in Europe, check. One less thing to not have done in life. It was an adventure, for sure. Though, I think the 12 hours was a bit excessive. And I was promised a Mercedes, but received a Citroën instead.
So, on Saturday morning, I was the only person on time to leave. Then we had to wait for an extra hour or so because Lorena and Brandon (the other driver) had slept through their alarm clocks and we had to call and wake them up. Being one of my huge pet peeves, I had to fume a bit and walk around the station for an hour.
What really sucked about the trip was that essentially the GPS unit was given to me, and the couple stayed in the back to make out all 12 hours and cuddle and everything, while poor Rimi tried hard to stay awake to keep me awake and living, and I drove. And drove.
And Brandon's car had a lot of fun because they actually all talked and sang and didn't depend on an obnoxious GPS system to figure the way for them.

Anyways, the first place we stepped off to was Caen to see William the Conqueror's fortress. Not extremely impressive. Basically just this big walled park with a church and museum in it in the middle of some old town. It was on a lovely hill. Nice cathedral outside. And it was free. Pleasant, but I think we stayed there a little bit long.
Next we voyaged to Bayeaux to see the Tapestry. The museum was super simple, but I thought it was remarkable. Simple, but it worked. They give you audio guides and you walk around the 70 meter tapestry while listening to the explanations of everything. It really is an amazing piece of art. And there was a whole lot of DDay Vets at the museum. They were excited to see a bunch of American kids, so one man particularly continued coming back to talk to us. He was really adorable.
As we drove to the beaches, we literally came into a wall of fog. Sunny one minute, all of a sudden engulfed in this thick soup of fog. It was very eery, especially since it was the week of the anniversary...
We made it to the American Cemetery on the beaches just before it was getting ready to close. The fog really added to the somber atmosphere of the huge site. Beautiful fountains. A cliff over the beaches (that we went down to, and were not completely impressed with....it was a beach, but we were expecting more). The graves were absolutely beautiful. I hate to be walking around graves and taking pictures, but it was so artistically done and beautiful that I couldn't help it. Fog, too! Taps were being played while they lowered the flags, and then we were kicked out of the park.
The last stop of the day was (again, for me) Mont St Michel. We were there the same weekend that the big Marathon was happening, so it was packed with fans and tourists and runners and all. The hotel was nice, clean, and modern. And only 2km from the mount. So, we walked at night to it. Got a bit in the way of the marathon runners.
I am amazed at marathon runners. They really are inspirational. 47km?! And such perseverance! I'm tempted to try training for one, just to be able to do it and say I have. I think it's something to investigate when I stay a little more rooted...
Damn, can Rimi eat. She was hungry always and ate a lot!
The mount is actually nicer at night when everyone's left. We waited for about 40 minutes for the other car to get there so we could eat at one of the restos at the top of the mount. It was a nice dinner, and there were fireworks going on outside on the waterfront, so we enjoyed the view. After we ate, we walked around the city walls and got lost a bit. It was really nice to walk around without a lot of people crowding the streets, and it is so well lit at nighttime! Even walking through the little cemetary was interesting! It really was something I'm glad to have done. We joked off at the top of the mount (when we finally reached it...), and I dropped my sunglasses down probably 3 or 5 stories! Don't worry, they still function quite well (thanks, $5 sunglasses from Target!). Brandon grew into taking pictures of the group while going down stairs. Not a good idea. But we still enjoyed it all.
We walked back to the hotel after they turned off all of the lights of the city, which was a bit creepy, and hard to see things. Luckily, the marathon had just ended the parties, so cars lit our way back on the road.

The next day we woke up early to go to the grocer's next to the hotel to buy our breakfast. I bought a box of chocolate cereal that I ended up finishing that day.
We roamed around the mount again, only this time we had a time limit and were mainly interested in going through the Abbaye. Having already gone through the abbey, I joined up with a French tour, and got yelled at by a bunch of the french folks because I didn't realized it was a private group. Oops.
We left to hit up the cape town Saint Malo for lunch. It really is an adorable seaport town, walled with bricks, tightly nooked buildings. And lots of sea and boats and yachts. Because we didn't have lots of time, though, we only had an hour to look around fast, eat lunch, and scoot out. The parking itself took 20 minutes. So we basically had time to walk in, eat pizza and an ice cream cone, and leave again.
The trip back was agony. 4 hours turned to about 5.5/6 hours from the traffic. I was fuming because Paz insisted on being rude to me the entire trip, and then continue to snuggle in my rearview mirror. And so by the end of the trip, I was on the verge of tears from frustration and aggrivation and I busted out of that car ASAP.
I wish I didn't have to spend so much time in the car and more time with my friends in the other car.

Day Trip Toute Seul

Today I woke up at 5h30 and got to Gare Montparnasse around 7h. I had a return trip to go to Rennes that I was supposed to go with Joris on, but since he had a final pop up that day I was not going to let my ticket go to waste.
I had a long train ride to Rennes, where I was in a twilighted sleep that makes you roll your neck around and eventually makes you feel kind of motion sick. But I finally got into Rennes.
When in the city, I looked for the bus times to Mont St Michel. Much to my dismay, I had 2 hours to kill before it left. I went for a stroll on the big street to discover a little about Renes.
Old city from the 11th century, small and intimate. It was like a smaller version of London with Parisian imitation. The buildings in the area I was in were newer, and I mean the ugly art-deco types. I didn't get very far because my stride was small since I kicked my ass in an hour of yoga the day before.
Got onto the 1.5 hour busride to Mont St Michel. Another rolling-of-the-neck trip.
And then Mont St Michel comes into view. It was like hearing Common Man playing in the background. It was huge, intimidating, looming. Beautiful. We got out of the bus and I could only look up for the first few minutes. But I had only 4 hours before the last bus back to Rennes, so I hopped to it as fast as possible.
Did I mention yet that tourists are infestations? I know I am one, but these people come in swarms, I promise you! And the worst ones I would say are the Scottish, Americans, and Japanese (or, more general, Asians). The city was completely riddled with people, and I could barely walk forward let alone hear myself think. The shops were all tourist shops now. And the restos were in English, too. Made me feel guilty being there.
Anyways, the Mount is basically this enormous hill where you have to walk up ramps and LOTS of stairs. Lots. I enjoyed that part a bit because I felt like I was getting somewhere, and most of the tourists seemed to be apprehensive of climbing the steps, so remained on the lower grounds.
The abbey itself is interesting. There is no real furniture in it, but I don't think it really needs it. The architecture is stunning. And there are so many nooks and crannies in the structure that you could surely get lost for HOURS in the place if you didn't have the museum signs and arrows everywhere. The bigger chapel in the abbey had a service while I was there. I was intrigued to watch it in this magnificent background, and tourists in their sneakers and fanny packs sitting down to take vigil. And then a little girl started screaming. Enough with that, I'm out. I somehow got stuck in some Eastern European school trip. German? Russian? Something else? I'm not sure. I think there might have been 2 trips, because I know I heard German, but then there was another more Slavic language being spoken that confused me.
I didn't take too long in the Abbey, mostly because I know I'll be back in a few days with the gang. So I went for a walk around the gardens and walls. The island has so many different staircases and pathways! I don't know how I ended up where.
Ended up finding a little restaurant that wasn't too crowded to eat an omelette at. But it wasn't good, they had the hardest time keeping track of who ordered what, despite the small crowd. The women forgot I was there, forgot what I ordered, forgot THAT I ordered. Agh, frustration. The omelette was foamy (yes, for real) but tastey. This old American couple sat next to me and were completely hopeless. Couldn't read French, and tried to do that thing Americans do, "Excuse-ay-mwa? I'll have umm..le wah-terrr? Si, wah-terrr." Oh, no. And they were looking at the menu as if it were in another alphabet. I asked them if they needed help, in which they said yes and asked lots of questions. They ended up still messing up the order so I guess I wasn't too much help. And they asked a lot about me and why I was in France, they were telling me that they were with tour group that was going all over France. It didn't sound like they were enjoying the trip too much, despite their patience, discouraging me more to ever take a tour trip somewhere else in the world.
Walked some more, shopped, strolled on the ocean side. Read my French book. It was a calm day, aside from the mayhem of tourists.
Waiting for the bus back, I started talking to this Japanese couple. They knew NO FRENCH. And were trying hard in English. They liked that I was from NY. They were on their honeymoon. They insisted on taking a picture with me. And now, somewhere in Japan, I will forever be in someone's honeymoon album as "the girl from nyc that we met in france".
Back in Rennes, had 2 hours to kill before my train. Read, ate a salad. Mounted the train, and that was that.

Blech

Haven't been feeling super hot lately.
Stomach ache. Realized I've lost a lot of muscle while being here. Just overall gross feeling.

Cooked on Saturday. Had a small group of only 6 of us! That was the smallest group I've cooked for here!
I went to the Salvador Dalí Museum with Kendra on Sunday. It was really amazing. I didn't realized how many sketches Dalí actually drew! And he was really into randomness. I really like his works a lot. Some more than others, of course, but overall he's one of my top 5.
I love the fact that his melted clocks were based on a train of thought at a dinner party. He was glancing at a wheel of camembert cheese, and was somehow brought to thinking about how time was fluid...and thus he went from point A to point Q3 in one swift step. I feel like I relate to his way of thinking a whole lot. The only difference is that his was considered a form of genius, while mine is considered a handicap.
Kendra and I afterwards went for a nice long walk. Just talking. It is fun because we just talk, and none of it matters, yet, it does. Anyways, we ended up going to the Cimetière de Montmartre and roamed around the not-so-little city of dead people. We found Adolphe Sax, and since she's an avid saxophone player, she was very happy to see him. Another 2 hours of walking around the city and we parted ways.
Peter was over my place the entire time working on my computer. He bought pizza (blech) out of grattude. Note: Peter lost one of his front teeth in a drunken tumble. That means I had to cut his pizza up (like a mom for a 2 year old) in little pieces. He then went off about how he was straight-edge from now on, changed man, alcohol ruins people, blah blah blah.
Yesterday, I officially finished writing papers for Sciences Po. I also finished my course in economic negotiations. The debate was about US & EU negotiations about steel. Not terribly interesting, but a bit. I passed my french final. My prof even told me that I have progressed a lot. High five.
I met up with Piere and we got a really fast tea at the Mosquée. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I just felt aggressive the entire time. It's nice to see him, and to see that he's no longer running around frantic trying to juggle everything. But it's too bad I'm leaving soon and we can't spend a lot more time hanging out. This goes for most people, though, I guess.
I ran into a lot of people before I got home from class last night.
Particularly, I ran into José on the street. He started going off about this weekend and how busy it was and how he didn't even have time to sleep.....and I had no idea why he was telling me all of this, until I realized he was using it as an excuse for something. I just wanted to ask him if he got his ticket for the Gala. Which he did. The other stuff I couldn't have cared less about. Oh, people.

Château de La Loire

This weekend, 8 of us rented 2 cars and drove a few hours out of Paris to La Loire for some châteeau visits. It was a really, really great (and apreciated) weekend.
At 8h30 Saturday, we met up at Montparnasse to get the cars so we could be on our merry way. Peter was an hour late, and the cars took a while. We ended up leaving Paris by 10h. Brandon was leading his car, and Liisa was nervously tagging behind him. Paz was in Liisa (our) car to calm her down the entire time, and essentially drive for her without actually doing the driving. It was an entertaining experience.
But before any great European roadtrip, we stopped at a Carrefour and picked up carfood and some repas for the trip to save time and cash. We indulged a bit, too.
Our driving directions sucked. Our maps were too general. Instead of taking 2 hours on one road to our first stop, our cars ended up splitting up (which became common and frequent the whole weekend) and getting lost in the middle of France. Liisa commented that most of smalltown France is strangely resemblant of post-war Croatia. I found that many of the smaller, more intimate villages, reminded me a whole lot of the little towns in western Germany and Switzerland. Regardless, we all did several turn arounds, got lost in the "city" Orléans for a long time, and got to the first place about 4 hours later.

~Château de Chambord was like a resort town when you first enter the grounds. It's actually quite pleasant, and we meandered to the ticket counter for the château. The castle itself, made by Francois the 1st around 1518, was massive, dripping with roof ornamentaion, and beautiful. It looked like a cathedral slammed into Versailles and blended the different architectures together. 4 stories high. The inside was vast, clean, but relatively empty. Lots of open space, and little amounts of furniture. I liked it a lot, though; really airy, and I like that in a castle. The main stairwell in the middle was excellent. It was designed probably by someone (if not) like da Vinci, since it was 2 stairwells spiralling around each other. We split up and took our time in the castle, and finally met up on the ground floor to quickly get back to the cars, split up the lunch food, and speed over to the next château an hour away, before they closed.
~Château de Chenonceau was probably our favorite castle for the entire trip. It started with this heavily forested pathway with gardens and mazes on the sides, and a petite village. And the weather was lovely. Then 2 small sphinx statues welcome you to the opening where the castle was settled in between 2 gardens and literally ON the river! There were even openings for boats to pass under the château, like on a bridge. The inside was cozy and well furnished, and the ballroom was absolutely breathtaking, yet simple. True elegance. I'd totally live there. We took our time at this castle, and relaxed in the gardens before they closed up, and it was wonderful.

We split up and found our ways to the town with our hotel, Tours. We thought it'd be a small little village, like the petite towns we drove through. Oh no...Tours is this biggish city in the middle of these castle forts. It was like stepping into Wiesbaden or something. How we ended up finding our hotel in a big city whose map we didn't have, nor knew nothing about, I haven't a clue. But we did, and it was great. Our hotel was a Best Western, and it turned out that our two rooms were massive enough so that only 2 of us in the entire group had to share a bed. It was really nice! We toasted with some red wine for our good fortune.
We went for a latenight stroll around the city and found this little restaurant to eat dinner at. You forget how nice people really are until you get out of the big, dense cities. The people were so wonderful! A bunch of men even moved their own meals to another table so our group of 8 could eat together! The meal was alright, and cheap! I had a fresh salmon.
Honestly, these last two days I have eaten terribly. Junk food in the cars. Rich French food out of the cars. Constantly snacking. I cannot believe the 3 main things in my body were cheese, wine, chocolate, and bread. Welcome to my life as a Frenchwoman. Agh. I am craving a good salad like it's my job.
The old restaurant owner decided to get a bit drunk, and fall in love with our very own Rimi (because she's Japanese). He gave us a free bottle of Champagne, talked with us for over an hour, and hit on Rimi like there was no tomorrow! It was hilarious at first, then it was awkward, then it just got bad. He made Rimi pour the Champagne for everyone (she even called herself a geisha)! We did our best to drink the Champagne quickly so we could get out and relieve Rimi of the awkward, but we still didn't end up leaving until 1am. Crazy old French men...
Peter felt a bit macho, so he tried to carry Alex back to the hotel. He didn't get very far, and we ended up having to console him in his sickness in a park. And we slept fast. Like rocks.
For about 5 or 6 hours. Early rise to get more done.

Don't try driving through Tours very much without a real plan. Just drive out as fast as possible. That is all I have to say about that.
~Azay le Rideau was a pretty palace. Much smaller than the other two we saw. But this one was just a cubed castle completely immersed in the middle of the river. Lovely forest surrounded it, and the water on all four sides made it quite romantic, but it was not our favorite. The rooms were well furnished, though. And the stairwells were completely open, which was very nice. It was a very pretty mansion, but it was small compared to the other castles from the day before. We enjoyed the park around the castle for a while, until it started to look like it might storm.
We took refuge in our cars and drove to a nearby vineyard cave to do some wine tasting.
The woman at the cave was very pleasant, though slightly awkward. We didn't really know what we wanted to do, and the cave owner didn't quite know what to do with us, either. We talked and listened to everything in French. She taught us a lot about tasting and understanding the wine, what and when to drink it, how they make the wine. A very interesting hour with this woman. And the wine was quite good. We bought 2 cases for ourselves. And we left when the sun came back out an hour later.
Lunch in the town by the château was simple, but good. Liisa didn't like it, but I did, so I'm happy with it.
I fell asleep in the car and woke up to us stopping on the side of the road to take pictures of Amboise and its beach town. The other car went on the beach, while our car stayed inside and decided our last destination point.
~Château de Chaumont was very pretty on the outside; a fairytale-like castle on the cliffs of some large hill, and stables on the side. But the insides were being gutted and redone, so the exhibit itself was disappointing. The stables were fun to look at, and the grounds in front of the castle were lovely. But, alas, we got back to the cars and drove.
The trip was nice because Paz had planned most of the logistial stuff perfectly, and we had enough room for interpretation to not stress ourselves out too much. Our conversations were always, if not most of the time. I really enjoyed everyone's company all weekend, and felt like I had found myself a good set of people to be with while in Europe this time around. I dare say I love them all.
The drive back to Paris was a lot faster because we took the toll roads. And we got back to the city around 20h, which meant there was time to get home and do homework after a practically perfect weekend with friends. Too bad I didn't do any work and wrote this instead, huh?

Sarkozy?! Really?!

Yesterday I stumbled upon a Brocante (flea market-type fair) on a street by my flat. It was great! All antiques! The best part was when I stumbled upon a stack of (organized) antique post cards from around the world! Used postcards (written and posted) with pictures of Paris and London from 1850s-1900s. In a moment of pure genius, I found about 14 postcards to buy (22 euros ain't bad...) so I can make a framed memorial to my loved European cities. What gems!
Joris and I meet up and went out for a Greek dinner. We talked in French (as usual with my select few French friends), and I thanked him for his incredible patience.
We met up later on with Liisa (plus her Italian friends, her African coloc and his African buddies) and went out to dance at a salsa club, Latina Café. We had so much fun ALL NIGHT! I forgot how fun that kind of music and dancing was! Joris was a complete blast and danced with us like there was no tomorrow. He'll be in Barcelona next year, so I told him we were just trying to prepare him.
Liisa and I ended up missing the last metro, so I walked her home (in heels) and took a cab home.

Today was beautiful! I meandered to school to watch some Free Jazz at this week's festival. I forgot how much I missed music. After a while, though, it turned into smooth jazz, so I scooted out. And I walked.
Since it was the first Sunday of the month, all museums in France are free admission. So, I went to Musée Rodin for a while, walked around the grounds. Grabbed a nice salad dish in the garden there, and was surrounded completely by birds. Nearby French people laughed as I battled birds for property rights.
Afterwards, I walked through the Esplanade over to the Grand + Petit Palais for more museum joy. Something I love about Sundays in the spring/summer in Paris: everyone gets out and goes to the grassy areas. Soccer here, spooning couple there. It's wonderful. I think I could stay here longer.....
Much to my dismay, I got to the museums too late, and they closed as soon as I walked in. No matters, I got what I paid for.
And a nice, long walk home. Discovered some delightful areas I have never ventured to before, which I hopefully will investigate further.
Attempted to make fried tomatoes, and failed miserably. Even lit my frying pan on fire.
And then the French elections happened.....................WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?! Ségolène Royale was such a good candidate; Sarkozy is soo not the right person to run this country! And the votes in all of France were completely divided: Sarkozy won with 53%, while 47% of France was completely left in the dust. What kind of system was that?!!?!?! I'm very, very disappointed in society right now. And a bit upset with the French. My hopes of being a French citizen are forever (or at least 5 years minimum) shot. Unless I marry one.

Schumann to Scala

Well, Tuesday was an early day. I had a European Business midterm, which basically consisted of me regurgitating everything I have read for the class since the first day...which does not actually amount to much, so it was fine. My hand was ready to fall off after that exam, easy, but no matter.
I wasn't feeling super hot that day, so I took in an easy day, napped a bit, then went for a nice walk all around the city, ended early.

On Wednesday, it was roasting hot, so I concluded to wear a dress (which, those who know me know I never wear those things, let alone own them). I felt cute. My friends made fun of me for "dressing up", but no matter. I bought a pair of cheap heels that would actually function with the dress, resulting in a good amount of blood sliding off of my skin, down the shoe, and onto the ground. Several men in the Métro pannicked and tried to get my attention, while I simply replied "yes, thanks, I know...".
I met up with Pierre to go to Château de Vincennes (just east of Paris, essentially a castle-cum military office park. There was a free quintet concert playing a few delightful tunes there; Rossini, Mozart, Schuman, Haydn, and Gervaise. Everyone there, absolutely everyone, was someone in and/or related to the military. I felt slightly out of place, or like a rebel if you will. The concert was brief and pleasant. The evening was beautiful. But the moral in the group was low, and conversation was not flowing as fluidly as I usually can muster up. We got a drink at a nearby café, and then called it a day. I got home a bit discouraged and in pain (ahem, I was bleeding).

Thursday started off slow, and in sandals (my feet were swollen and sad). I met up with my marketing group to conclude our project topic would, in fact, be on Campbell's Soup's marketing strategies. Franglish was had.
Class happened, took a test in it, and that was done with.
Choir was particularly interesting because José-Louis was in a punchy mood and kept on distracting me while we sang, and while I completely sight-read the new music to the choir. Enchantée. But I had my fun, too, so I cannot complain too much. Fellow tenor Etienne actually decided to make an appearance and help me with our singing parts....but then I realized that I'd be distracted two-fold on BOTH sides of me: José-Louis playing the flirtacious punk and Etienne as the nosey colleague.
After practice (I was famished), Liisa offered to go to Les Deux Magots for dinner. Thinking, yes, a pleasant hearty French meal in St.Germain de Prés. A few glasses of wine, an entrée, a plat, and a dessert.........we both got similar stuff.....amounting to 85Euros total. AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! And my dinner was misunderstood; I thought I had ordered a big steak meal called Carpaccio, and the man comes out with this plate basically lined with super-fine raw meat. I was devastated. Good meal, overall, though. And Liisa and I, of course, discussed men, her marriage, our plans, and everything else under the sun. I'm sure we spoke loudly and that people hated us, but it was a moment straight from the movies, so we relished in it.

After class on Friday, I met up with Pierre to pass on a book for his thesis from my library. Luckily (though unfortunately, I didn't have the time that he had for once), we were both in better moods than the last time and talked more, but I then ended up running late to my lunch date at Tokyorama with Paz and some of the French girls from class. The lunch was decent, and mostly it was Paz and I explaining to the girls just what NYC is like.
Ran home and put on yet another dress (for Liisa's birthday dinner) and met up with Liisa to do some fast shoe shopping pre-dinner. We had a great long walk, and she settled on some fabulous(ly expensive) heels. Liisa (and I) is very adverse to wearing skirts and dresses because we are super self-conscious about our bodies, so the agreement was that I'd wear a dress so that she would feel alright and more comfortable on her special night.
Reservations for 14 at this massive resto, Pastapapá, nearby Opéra. The restaurant was alright; very, very American. The food was alright, and in big proportions, but you could tell it was a chain resto. But I enjoyed my food, and I was sitting next to José-Louis and Nicolas, forcing me to stumble in French all dinner. Brandon, though (who is far better in French than me), got them to talk about politics and social issues, so my nearby companion Rimi and I sat there confused.
Afterward the dinner, I should have gone home, but was peer pressured to go to this Café Oz Australian Bar/Club with my buddies. That means funky dancing in a 50's style dress and open-toed heels. Awkward..... And I was not in the mood to be a big loud club, so I agreed with Lorena to catch the Métro home before it was too late. Though, I thoroughly enjoyed watching Rahul get funky and Peter look like a sexy tortured soul.

Saturday, oh man...well, I went running around my area to find BAY LEAVES for my dinner, to no avail. I am frantically trying to make 2 dishes for roughly 12 people (with the help of Rimi and Brandon), realizing that most of the people coming to dinner are friends of friends and I've never met before.....and I'm sending out Paz and Brandon to grab other things for me while I try to not burn the Jambalaya or Casserole. It was hectic. To be chased with Rahul and Peter informing us they, in fact weren't showing up (claiming they didn't know it was still on, THOUGH it is a weekly event...). It ended up being alright because I had just enough food for everyone anyways.
The dinner went really well. José came with one of his other Saint-Cyr buddies and a guy from Bulgaria that he rock climbs with. They were really nice guys, but sometimes their French was too fast for me to follow. We talked, debated, I mostly cleaned and listened..... Lorena swung by, and I made brownies from scratch for her, with the help of José (who told me that stirring the brownie mix was a man's job). Apparently we were a little too loud in the kitchen because on of my neighbors yelled at us to quiet down. Though, we were just talking and mixing brownie mix....
Everyone agreed later on to go clubbing at this place La Scala over by the Louvre. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to stereotypical French diskothèque, and I really actually enjoyed myelf! Yes, of course, there was a problem before about where it was, and I had managed to accidentally mess up some of the logistics, but we managed finally to get into this club. The drinks were disgusting (but free), and the music was house/techno, but we had a blast. It was the kind of dancing you do when you don't want to think at all. Just dance. Color me female, but it was really great; I needed it. Our slightly big group circled up and danced with each other. And the guys DANCED! Which is my favorite part! They enjoyed themselves! It made me really happy to see that, that's for sure.
We did have some problems....us 3 girls (Liisa, Lorena, me) were being hit on and approached by some random men. We were making it quite clear we weren't interested, and we ocassionally would cry out "lesbian", but usually one of our guys had to step in, put their arms around us, and say "back off, buddy". Ah, yes, that's why I love hanging out with guys: the constant protection!
By 4-5am, this random group of drunk French guys started picking a violent fight with our two soldiers in the group. They definitely got in super-soldier-fighting mode, but somehow managed to stave off natural fighting needs and we walked out of the club exhausted and ready to hit the hay anyways.
We went for a walk to start dropping people off, and I finally ended up back on the métro with Lorena and the nice Bulgarian guy (who spoke English with us), got home, and slept. A lot.

Today is a lowkey day. It's raining and thundering, and I have no real need to do much but vegetate, again.

FFWD Mode, Only Long

Alright! I should do this NOW so I don't forget to do it this week, and then I'll have more than a week to get back on track about:
Monday - My parents came in to visit me for the week! They were exhausted when I met up with them after my classes. We ended up catching a fast dinner at Léon's before my next class.
I then went to José-Louis' with Liisa for a dinner party. The rule was: in his place, we HAVE to only speak French (which wasn't hard for him and his 2 other friends, they ARE French...). It was one of the hardest rules to abide by all night. But I trucked along, kind of...
José made us this really great French dish for our main meal, and 3 other courses to boot! I supplemented the brownies for the dessert....His friend, Nicolas, is a winemaker, and brought us 3 bottles of wine for us to taste; one in every color! It wa splendid! Liisa and I were giggling the entire time about the sheer ridiculousness of our lives and the situations at hand.
And a note about José-Louis' place.....IT WAS MASSIVE!! He says that he's staying with a friend's family, which would make the children's toys everywhere, and the 2-story monstrosity of a flat that we were exposed. A billiard table in the main room, full kitchen, stereo system, and a huge outside patio with a view of the Eiffel Tower?! You've got to be kidding, Kim, right? Nay, my friends, no kidding here.
After we had a really nice (and late) dinner, José and Nicolas pulled out the dancing skills! Which was a shock! Those boy can dance! They were swing dancing with Liisa and I, and José even swung Liisa over his shoulder! José's female friend just watched, which was odd, but she seemed to be content regardless. But alas! A good night always has to end, so Liisa and I hailed a cab in the wee hours of the night/morning, and went to bed swiftly, after a night of perfection.

Tuesday - Class was a waste. Except that Eugene informed me about the VaTech news. All I'll say about it is that I luckily knew no one involved or affected, I have little (if any) respect for journalists and publicists, and that Bush's arms policies are worth shit.
Afterwards, I met up with parents to go out, but didn't make it very far; I crashed on their bed for a few hours. I finally woke up to eat some lunch with the parents, and then to go see my apartment. Lazy day, and ended it early.

Wednesday - The day started with Mom, Dad, and I meeting up at the Catacombs, which are these cave-tunnels underground all over Paris. You could probably get into any section of Paris through these caves! We were only let into a very small section of the catacombs, but it was simply amazing, nevertheless! Miles and miles of caves that we saw ALONE! And what's more, but there's roughly 6 million dead people buried down there, from the 1700s plague and the 1800s riots! They have organized the bones and skulls in a hasty decorative system, and they strategically embellished with somber French/Latin quotes all throughout the darkened caves. It was quite a site! And we saw the alter where All Saint's Day used to be performed, and everthing!
Afterwards, we ate at this place called Indiana Café; this sad French attempt at making American food. The quesadillas were made with mozzarella and crêpe-like layers, and the fries were pretty dinky. The food was good, but it wasn't American. Granted, I'm not complaining; it was just an interesting portrayal of American culture. The parents were nice and let me go for my normal jog afterwards before we head out for dinner at this nearby Lebanese resto. The food was really good (they even did the grape leaves correctly!). I went back to the hotel with them, where we had a debate about American values, education, and spirituality. Just another night with the family, right?

Mind you, the whole week I was very proud of myself because I was doing all of the talking and the ordering and explaining for the parents. I felt like my French was actually subpar!

Thursday - I grabbed lunch with them before they walked me to my classes. One of my classes was cancelled, so I ran into Rahul and I talked and walked with him for a while. I then went to Sciences Po to do homework. Joris, bless the child, walked me through my French homework, despite that he's French and has his own homework and club to run. I owe that kid my life.
Class trudged by. I then met up with Pierre for dinner with the parents at Café Lipp. The parents didn't inform me that we were to match (they were in black blazers over green shirts and black slacks), so I felt very awkward and clashing at first. But we had a very intriguing dinner. Dad really let his hair down for Pierre, and Mom and I did our girly gossip on the other side of the table. Pierre wow-ed them with his French knowledge, and we ate a long (and slightly pricey) dinner discussing cultures (but of course).
Pierre and I ended the night with a few videos about military training, so I could see just exactly what he'll be put through this summer. Yes, I admitt, it looks hard, but I'm still excited to see how he turns out after it, even if I am in the US (which is a sad thought).

Friday - My marketing professor is a tool. We had presentations about Benetton, and the first 4 groups took roughly 20 minutes a pop, leaving us last 2 groups 6 minutes to do a 12-minute presentation. Nice.
Paz and I grabbed a few sandwiches and chit chatted before I met up with the parents. We did some walking. Mom and I went to Galerie Lafayette and shopped for a few hours. I came out with a new purse and a shirt.
We had to RUN to my flat for a pizza dinner with the parents and my friends. Dad and I went out to get pizza, and my friends came over. We talked all night, joked, Dad said some not-so-appropriate-Kim things. It was great.

Saturday - I went for an extra long run, it was great.
Afterwards, I went on a wild goose hunt to find all of the materials needed to make the Indian dishes requested the night before.
Then I cooked for 6 hours. Alone.
I'm never cooking Indian food from scratch alone ever again. That is all.
The food was good, don't get me wrong, but it was far too much to do alone. And 10 kids?! What was I thinking?!
José-Louis joined us for dinner, which meant it was French for Kim. That was frustrating, alright. But we had a good night, and everything went well in the end.

Today - Bump on a log. I have gorged on left overs. Been reading a bit for my midterm on Tuesday. Met up with Paz for an hour to eat dinner. Walked for half an hour, then back here to do chores, procrastinate with my blog, and read some more. I'm a winner.

Italia (Milano & Firenze)

Let's just get this straightened out first: I am never going to Italy alone EVER AGAIN. Now, let's hope I can stick to this promise... Why, you may ask? Well, for starters, I had no one to talk to all day, so I began talking to myself most of the day and babbling to kind anglophones the rest of the day. More noticeably, though, is because, as a female in Italy, I have never been so aggressively approached by men before in my life! More to come on that later.

So, I got into Milano Easter Sunday near midnight and realized that, my god, I no nothing about Italian. Sure, reading it is something like reading Frenchpagnol, but listening comprehension? I got nothing. So, I grudgingly shoved a piece of paper in front of a cab driver's face with the address to my hostel. That was an interesting carride conversation. I find myself going up 2 flights of not-so-familiar staircases to find a hostel located on a single floor of an apartment complex. Luckily, the guys running the hostel were very nice to me, and spoke simple english while placing me in a bedroom shared with 2 sleeping guys. I didn't want to wake up the sleepers, so I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed in complete darkness. One of the sleepers woke up around a few hours later at 5am, though, and decided to un-and-repack his entire bag before noisily leaving.
I woke up to find out that our bathroom was a handicap bathroom. This would be fine, only it meant that the shower floor was also the bathroom floor. And the showerhead was located as low as my chest. That was an acrobatic shower, my friends. I've never had to sit on my knees to clean myself before.
I got out of the hostel early to realize that, because Italy is a very Christian country, most everything in the city NOT in the tourist trap areas would be completely closed. Dead city, really. Nevertheless, I took a half-hour stroll from the hostel to the center of town.
The best sight in the entire city handsdown was the Duomo. Simply breathtaking! The Duomo is this massive cathedral in the middle of Milan that is built with golden-rose stones and intricately frosted/decorated with lavish spears. I was in awe. To my surprise, I found out that I could actually climb all the way up to the top of the Duomo onto the roof and walk around to see the skyline. And I did just that. Just.....beautiful. Milan really is a pretty city, and walking around the roof of the cathedral, around the spears...I must have been up there an hour. The inside of the cathedral wasn't nearly as impressive (rather simple, really, but all for the best I guess...), but I went underneath the cathedral to some of the ancient city ruins. THAT was intriguing, but too bad I can't understand Italian...or Latin, for that matter.
I then walked around Milan aimlessly, seeing as I had no agenda. I saw a bunch of nice buildings. I walked around the old castle, Castello Sforzesco. Kind of a not-so-pretty buiding, but then again how can one compare to that of the Duomo? There was a lovely grassy knoll/garden behind the castle, and I felt like I had been transported back into the early 19th century.
Otherwise, I walked around a lot. The perogative: to not stop walking. Just keep walking. Need to just see everything. And I think I did. I made a decision to not see the Last Supper, but I'm not upset about it. The Royal Palace cost money to go in and see the art exhibits, so I just enjoyed the outside view. Oh yeah, I also made it a choice to spend as little cash as I could, to no avail (the food costs were hefty).
For dinner, I noticed that I possess buyers anxiety even more when I don't know the language at all. I sat down at this nice OPEN restauarant and started (or, attempted) ordering. He responded in Italian, and I got nervous. He asked me what to drink, and I tried saying water, bu then he asked "and?", and I buckled. Oh god, what do I say now? What would he understand? Uh...uh....capuccino? That seemed to please him, and he left, though I DO NOT drink capuccino. I ate a Milanese pizza with that capuccino, and finished off the meal with a very nice tiramisu.
Having conquered Milan in less than a day, I strolled back to the hostel early and made friends with the men running the hostel. We watched "King Arthur" dubbed in italian. Well, I looked, they watched. I made friends with a few Swiss/US girls, and we all bonded over hot chocolate.

The next day I ran to catch my train to Florence.
I get out of the station and hailed a cab to my hostel. BIG mistake. My hostel, that is. It was literally BARELY in Florence!!! It was a villa on a camping ground on one of the hills north of Florence. The cabfare was dismally expensive. Couldn't have been more inconveniently placed. It took 20 minutes to get INTO the city. AND it had a curfew. The hostel itself was meh; I was reminded of my many mission trip living shacks.
After fuming about this for about an hour, I rushed into the city. Only a day to do it all, must do it all ASAP! Florence, as opposed to Milan, is extremely busy and full of sights to see. I was frantically racing up and down streets trying to see it all.
I managed to find the Duomo Firenze first, go figure. It is huge, and beautiful (but not at all like that in Milan). The inside is simple, though, which has me think that that is the way the Italians do their cathedrals. I appreciated that. But, no time to think! I walked so quickly I got lost immediately. Luckily, I found my way around after some time, and continued my rampage of tourism. This church, that square. This historical landmark. The museums, I concluded, were going to be seen early the next morning before my train back. That bought me some time.
I met up with Tigist for a late lunch. We sat over some pizza and insalate caprese and talked about our studies abroad. She is such a lovely person, and I really enjoyed talking with her. A lot, actually. We had so many good stories to tell, so many tips for travelling, and future concerns about returning to Stern after such an amazing semester. Afterwards, she showed me around some of the areas that I had yet to see, and showed me a little gelato shop that had the most delectable gelato known to man. It was so good, I actually found myself speechless for a few minutes, mouth gaping open (after swallowing, of course). And beautiful Tigist paid for it, which was too kind.
Busy with a presentation, though, we parted ways at the Bridge Vecchio, a very old bridge riddled with houses and buildings on it. From there, I walked to the southern side of Florence and hauled myself up many-a-flights of steps to the Piazza Michelangelo. At this place, you can see all of Florence; completely surrounded by the Tuscan hills. I am so glad I went up there. Peaceful, beautiful, and the sun was setting so my view was painted with a purple sky.
This is when, after being approached by a man on the street ("Oh no, sir, I can't get coffee. I'm meeting up with some friends..." LIES!), I ambled my way back to the middle of nowhere to read before sleeping.

The next morning I was at the Galleria Dell'Academia before opening. With my 10 kilo bag on my back. The line was already wrapped around the building. It took me about 1.5 hours to get in. But the David was very much worth it. He is immaculate (the sculpture, that is). You can even see his VEINS! ON THE ARMS! I loved it. And the Rape of...Sabine? The other paintings were merely icing that I was alright with, but not in love with.
Feeling proud, I decided to wait another 2 hours (yes, standing in a line in the morning, with a 10 kilo bag) to get into the Ufizzi. I'm so glad I did. I love Boticelli, and the Birth of Venus was a treat to see. And there were so many pictures that I relished. All 3 floors were full of surprises. I was like a little kid during Christmas. Afterwards, the lunch I had was great. Salade and DELICIOUS fruit!
The rest of the day was lazy. I read in a park, ate some gelato, and then went to the train station for my train back. Where I met a very nice Italian guy who teaches graphic design in Milan. He gave me his ever-so-chic biz card and proposes we get a drink in Paris sometime. Sure. Networking at its finest.

Milan was Milan. The hostel was the same. I got back in for the working men to greet me excitedly (surprisingly...). Not understanding just what I had gotten myself into (apparently being nice = flirting in Italy...), one of the working guys starting coming on to me. Thinking it was just in my imagination, I agreed when he offered to change my room to a less inhabited room full of vacant beds. I finished getting ready in the bathroom and got out to find my designated bed having been pushed up with a nearby bed. Natural skeptic, I concluded to sleep in another vacant bed on the other side of the room. This guy (whose name is Mario, go figure) comes in and says "What are you doing? I wanted to sleep with you!"
Kim: Oh no, I sleep alone.
Mario: But we are supposed to sleep together!
Kim: Ummm....I don't think my boyfriend would be alright with that....
Mario: You have a boyfriend?!?!?!
Kim: Yes...
(insert boyfriend interrogation here)
Mario: But we can still sleep together. I just want to talk to you.
Kim: I don't talk when I'm asleep. I sleep.
Mario: Kimberly.....please.....
After moving the beds apart, I agreed to sleep in the first bed. He got upset because I didn't face him while I lay in bed. I said that it was good for digestion. I turned off the lights. He whined he couldn't see me. I said it didn't matter when the lights are out. He started petting my hair, and I had to conclude the night with a stern "Goodnight NOW, Mario."

Nightmare.
I woke up, went for a jog (where I got lost), left the hostel, and chilled out in the park (with my 10 kilo bag) to read for a few hours.
I walked over to the train station to get the bus to the airport, when another strange male approached me. After trying to coax me to talk and say my name (Teresa, right?), he tried to convince me to stay with him and "get to know him", where I simply replied that I had a flight to catch soon and though nice meeting him, no.
I got the airport far too early because of that. At least I had a book to read. For hours. And hours. Just to get on a flight to Frankfurt Hahn.

Quicky

Aimee's trip here was all over the place. I was either in class, or we were with my friends romping around the city.
Wednesday, after Aimee and I went for a light jog, I stayed inside all day. All. Day. Working on my opera project. Lots of research happened. It was rough.
Now, the problem on Wednesday was Brandon's comings and goings. He can't move into his apartment until 2 weeks from now, so I agreed that he could crash at my place. By 2am I said to myself, "Ok, he's not going to come home tonight. I'm going to bed." How wrong was I. 5:30am rolls by and I hear my doorbell being rung, but a drunk Brandon. Oh, the rage...

Thursday was when I had my opera exposé (in english). So, I finished it late during the day, and went off to class. Nobody told me, however, that there was a big election presentation going on at school for the day. The street was barracaded, cops everywhere, checking student IDs (thankfully I had mine on me)...
And there were only 5 kids that made it to my opera class. Which made it easier to present and keep the oral exposé a lot less stressful. The only problem we had was that the presidential candidates were leaving the school during our class, for the whole 2 hours, and so there was this mass of angry students half-rioting-half-shouting outside of our window. We could barely hear the professors. It was pretty amusing, and they had some pretty good chants going on. I tried to be loud for my presentation. I think it went alright?
After my French class, I went back home to hang out with Aimee. We both felt a little low, so we stayed in for the night, and I made dinner. Then Pierre came over with Inès (his sister, who's delightful, by the way) later on in the night, and we enjoyed some conversation, joking, and made fun of the terrible version of American Idol here, Nouvelle Star. Simply sad. Aimee relished in the show, while the rest of us were just groaning in pain.

Friday, after a slightly lowkey marketing class, Paz and I brought our visitors to a café for lunch, at Café Jade. We waited nearly 45 minutes for Lorena, Alex, and Liisa to come by and join us for lunch. Starving. Pretty good food, but French service. Then Brandon and Peter+1 joined us and we got amazing gelato at this little place nearby that lets you choose however many flavors you want and then shapes the gelati into the shape of a tulip on a cone. And it was good.
After overeating, we crashed on the grass in the Jardin du Luxembourg with the rest of Paris, and planned our night out. And after much arguing and spite, I left early for a run. A run that dehydrated me and kind of put me in this funky state for the rest of the evening.
We got reservations at Refuge des Fondue in Montmartre. Wine in baby bottles. Fondue with unlimited bread. And cheap. It was a fun night. Peter and I ended up being the only completely sober kids at the table in this tiny restaurant and watched everyone else giggle and say ridiculously hilarious things.
Afterwards we climbed the 10 million flights of stairs to the Sacre Coeur and watched the Eiffel sparkle. And then we climbed back down. And walked to Pigalle....now, for those of you that don't know this area of Paris, let me explain to you why: it's one giant orgy. Seriously. There's this massive store called Sexodrome; the moulin rouge is there; there are strip shows every block. The Museum of Eroticism (because there is one) is there, too. As Pierre would say, quite an ethnographic experience. I can't believe we agreed to go there.

Yesterday Aimee and I went to the Palais de Tokyo and ate lunch there at the café (excellent, by the way). Then we came back because I had to start cooking for dinner. Dinner parties, every Saturday, chez Kim. And I messed it up LIKE IT WAS MY JOB yesterday. Undercooked chicken, overcooked brownies. I am mortified.

Now, I just came back from a jog, and need to pack for Italy, so please excuse me while I stop rambling.