Family Matters

The last few weeks has been full of family fun! I was lucky enough to be visited by my dad, my mum, my sister and grandpa! My dad arrived first, and we had a whirlwind of a trip. In one day, we covered what seemed to be the entire city! Dad was a trooper, after two flights and a seven hour layover, he still had energy to give me a great big daddy hug, and see the Luxembourg Gardens, St. Sulpice, the Pantheon, Notre Dame, the Louvre, and even le Tour d'Eiffel! We watched it sparkle as we caught up and chilled out (it's getting 'froid' over here!). We heard some great jazz music that weekend and the fog lifted long enough for us to see all of Paris from Montmatre, which Dad loved! It was as if no time had passed, but of course, two months have gone by full of changes and developments. It was surreal at first to be bopping around Paris with Dad, after all, I've had this city all to myself for so long, but at the same time, it felt so normal! I had such a great time, I was so happy to share Paris with Dad. After I put him on the RER back to CDG, I couldn't help but tear up as I walked to the supermarket.
As you read and I write, Mum and Amanda are on their way home to the states (and by the sounds of it, it's not been an easy trip back!) They arrived here last Saturday, fatigued but wide-eyed by the city. I remembered all the planning Mum and I had done, before I was accepted into API and before she knew if she could make the trip, and planning all the things we would do and see. And she was finally here! Amanda had a brief encounter with Paris when she studied abroad four years ago, and it was great to show her around what I feel is now 'my city.' We took a more leisurely pace than Dad and I, since they were spending a few more days in the city, and even had time for naps. It was great to watch Mum's face light up as we came upon Notre Dame, Musee d'Orsay, and the Eiffel. I can still hear Mum's "Oh!" of surprise when she saw the Eiffel begin to sparkle!
After a few girly days, Grandpa arrived to his mother country. Knowing that he grew up speaking French, I was looking forward to speaking with him and seeing his face light up at all the French around him. We went up the Eiffel Tower to the blustering wind his first night here and took in the view. Paris was at our feet, or, 115 meters below them. We dined in our new favorite restaurant, Le Grenier, which we frequented quite a bit this past week. You'll find it on Rue Mouffetard, a charming, winding street in the Latin Quarter, or Stathis will find you and wave you inside - the charismatic and welcoming owner of the restaurant. It's a homey little place, decorated with skiing knick knacks and pictures of the French countryside. If you pass up the boeuf bourginogne (although why you would do that, I don't know) try the Filet of Pork or Confit de Canard. You really can't go wrong, even the avalanche of vegetables is one of the best salads you'll have in Paris. After a generous amount of wine, courtesy of Stathis, the volume and the energy level rises and it's like you're a part of a big family as more and more diners enter and eat. Stathis jokes with everyone and makes sure there is a smile on their face before he chats with the next table. Rick Steeves, why didn't you find this place first?
I returned to Versailles again on Tuesday, with the family in tow. I was particularly excited about this day, since I knew everyone had been looking forward to seeing the chateau. We spent a great, long morning inside, soaking up all the monarchy had to offer. Although I had seen it before, it was awesome to watch my family's jaws drop and their eyes widen.
Wednesday and Thursday were devoted to more sight seeing and some browsing at Shakespeare in Co. I could get lost in that place, you'll never see any part of the walls in there; they're covered in books! It's my kind of place. And they had the homey, squashy arm chairs Barnes n' Noble certainly lacks. And of course, for our Thanksgiving meal and our last meal with Grandpa, we returned to Stathis, our home away from home. There was no turkey, but we still felt festive. Not to mention, there was flaming apple tart ...
As the weather grew colder, I still had that warm and fuzzy feeling only the comforts of home can bring you. Both trips were so special, and I'm so glad we'll have these memories forever. I'm so lucky to have shared these experiences with the people I love! Oh, I mustn't cry again! Although I had to wait most of my trip to see my family, I think it's better this way. Now I only have to wait 3 weeks to see them again! Although, as I walked all around the city this morning, I know that will come all too soon. For now, I'm just glad to have shared the city I love with the people I love.

Na zdravi!

For the last weekend of my break, I left France for Prague. I had an incredible time. It was a much more manageable city than Paris. Our hostel was really a palace for us low budget travelers and it was in the perfect location. We were about a three minute walk from one of the most overrated but charming tourist sights in the world, the Astronomical Clock that chimes with the Walk of the Apostles every hour on the hour. Crowds of people would gather to see the event, and their was a collective sigh at the end, when they realized nothing jumped out of the clock or anything fantastical we'd see in a movie today. It was ahead of its time when it was built in the 15th century, however. There were just two men who had the genius to build a moving musical inside the clock, Mikulas of Kadan and Jan Sindel, so it really was an impressive feat many years ago. On the other side of our palace was the Charles Bridge, the most entertaining bridge I've ever walked across. Under dozens of now blackened statues of saints, monks, and Jesus himself was dozens of street vendors. Jewelry, paintings, whistles, caricatures, and a great jazz band met us every few meters. An older couple began to dance to the man who sounded like Louie Armstrong while onlookers smiled and cheered. The atmosphere was much more friendly in Prague. People who learned we were American didn't shuffle away or get the concerned crease in their eyebrows, but asked us where in the States we were from and peppered us with other questions. It was comforting to hear so much English, and so fun to hear a new language, Czech. It sounds incredibly hard to learn, but its great to listen. Our free tour guide, Jeff, said he had been living in Prague for six years, and can only speak as well as a three-year-old having a tantrum. He took us all over the city, and by the end of our 4 days, it felt like we really did see the whole city. After touring the Jewish quarter, seeing where Kafka was born, and straining for a look at Prague Castle from the symphony hall, we went back to the Old Town Square where a market was commencing in front of the Tyn Cathedral. I tried a great big sausage, and Prague did not let me down! It was fabulous. And of course, I had to try a Pilsner because you can't go to Prague and not drink their culture! Everything we had to eat there was great and I'm sure I have a pound or two to show it, although we did a lot of walking as well! The most interesting parts were the Old Town square and St. Wenceslas, I think. The Old Town town hall was the site of much political and religious angst, and we learned that anyone who challenged the Protestant Jan Hus was likely to be thrown from the windows. Of course, he was overcome by Catholics, and there was more blood shed on the way out the window. The history of Wenceslas square was much calmer. It was the site of the Velvet Revolution, where thousands of Czechoslovakians jingled their keys in hopes to be released from the oppressive, locked society of the Germans. In the same non-violent way, the square hosted the Velvet Divorce years later, when the Czechs wanted to be Czech and the Slovakians wanted to be Slovakian, and neither wanted to be under Russia's Communist thumb. Major historical decisions that could have been reason enough for war were made calmly. It's a shame the Czech's attitude hasn't spread to more of the world.
We also visited the John Lennon wall, something I was really excited about. It was colorful and moving. It was so cool to think how John and his music had such an impact on people, and they wanted to remember him in the perfect way. We got to sign our names, which I think might be one of the coolest things I've got to do in Europe. I just love the beatles and Dad, I thought of you the whole time!
I spotted Marks and Spencer and Debenhams in Wenceslas square, and it reminded me of London four years ago. I can't believe I'm on my own in Europe at last! I was so happy to think about all the different cultures I'm learning about and the experiences I'm having. I'm so glad I have the opportunity to do what I'm doing! I think Prague is definitely a place I would like to return to, and certainly a place I would recommend.

A tour of Tours

I visited the town of Tours in the Loire Valley of France for the first week of my vacation. After Paris, Tours seems a little sleepy, but it was a wonderful place to recharge my batteries; if I were to live in France, I would probably choose a place like Tours, rather than a busy city like Paris. Tours was really accessible, we left the train station and everything we wanted was at our finger tips; tourist office, great food, and shops. We walked to the old part of the city, the vielle ville, which presented us with many cafes, restaurants, and pubs. The buildings looked like something you would find in Germany; quaint almost shed-looking structures, with the criss-crossing wood on every facade. There was a small square where only a few children were trick-or-treating on Halloween night (not the most popular holiday in France). The square was lively with all the chatter and music from each cafe and its guests. The walk home was almost like Comm Ave in Boston, a place to walk in the middle of the traffic lined with trees turning yellow. Tours felt like home, but more French.
The Loire Valley is famous for its many chateaux, and we were lucky to see four of them. We saw the largest first, Chambord, which used to be a hunting lodge. It was certainly grand enough to be inhabited full time, I thought, but of course, the Comte and Comtesses (count and countess) probably require more grandeur than I. Part of the spires that topped the chateau were designed by da Vinci himself, I was shocked to learn. I didn't know he dabbled in architecture in France. There were 365 fireplaces- one fire for every day of the year! And the views from the balconies were incredible. I got a healthy dose of fall foliage in France at last. The sloping grounds were surrounded by gorgeous reds, oranges, and yellows. It was like New England had come to France just for me.
Chenonceau was much smaller, but just as beautiful. The walk to the chateau was littered with leaves we could shuffle in all the way to the entrance. Chenonceau sits on its moat, which gives the smaller chateau a really elegant look. Inside there was less to see, but the draw of Chenonceau is really its exterior. It was more humble than Chambord, and perhaps more breathtaking.
We visited Villandry next, in which the family who owns it actually still lives there! It was the smallest of all the chateaux, but is famed for its gardens, and rightfully so. The inside of the chateau was gorgeous, the limestone walls and the large windows allowed light to consume each room, which was decorated with light, pastel furniture and paintings. Out of every window, you could see the massive, intricate gardens. There are seven in all, each with a different meaning- we didn't even have time to see them all! There is a water and sun garden, with plants to represent the sun itself. Another garden represented different aspects of love. There was sweet, head-over-heels love that contained several bushes shaped like large hearts, surrounded by other bushes and plants. Another garden was said to represent the dance that is love, with shapes that almost looked like hearts arranged almost like puzzle pieces that fit together. And then there was your average garden, you know, the one that takes about ten minutes to walk through (and that's if you're speeding, Gonzalez). There were plenty of pumpkins which I loved, it felt very festive. I saw purple cabbage for the first time, and dozens of other flowers and plants. It must be quite a job to maintain gardens like that. I would take a turn about those gardens all day if I could.
The last chateau we toured was Azay-le-Rideau. It wasn't noticeably larger than Villandry, but the interior was much darker. The wooden floors and walls in every room and the heavy curtains draped across the windows made me feel uninvited. Kings and counts only stopped there for a few nights on their journeys, but it seemed less welcoming than Villandry and the others. The moat outside, however, reflected the chateau which made it look picturesque, a perfect post card. The grounds were much more intimate and provided a little foliage as well. It was so interesting to see the different structures of each chateau and I think fall is the best time to see them. The gardens must be beautiful in the spring, but the views and the surrounding trees were the perfect touch.
Or maybe I'm just missing New England for a change.

Into the West...

Last weekend we went on another excursion to Normandy and Brittany! It was a whirlwind trip taking place over just two days, or actually, about 36 hours.
Both regions were beautiful. There was a lot of blue velvet, red curtains, bumpy terrain and...oh wait, that wasn't France, that was our bus! Yes, a lot of this excursion was spent traveling on a large purple bus. We all wished for one more day, perhaps leaving Friday afternoon instead of Saturday morning, but at least we got to go!
We first arrived in Caen (almost like caw with a silent "n") mid-Saturday morning at Le Memorial, a museum dedicated to D-Day and WWII. After having a quick but tasty sandwich, we viewed a video with actual footage from 1944. Afterward, we had a little over an hour to take in an overwhelming amount of information. The museum was really great, our audio guides told us some unique information as we looked at old letters, artifacts, and more footage of speeches given by the Fuhrer himself. It was interesting to hear France's take on things. They admitted that their defense was really a lazy offense at the beginning of WWII, and it really wasn't until D-Day that they sprang into action. There was little mention of the Vel d'Hiv, the round up of French Jews that happened right in Paris! I hear there's a memorial museum, remind me to look that up...
Then we jumped on the bus again and headed towards Omaha Beach. It was absolutely gorgeous there, ocean as far as the eye could see. It was almost spooky in a way, however; standing there listening to the waves gently beat out a rhythm on the shore and imagining the sky completely black with fog, planes, and parachutes. Some unfortunate soldiers didn't even make it to the beaches, their gear was so heavy they drowned when their parachutes landed in the sea. Here across the ocean were an overwhelming amount of graves. Thousands and thousands of souls rested in one of the most peaceful places in France (well...technically we were on American soil, but as we're on a separate continent, I say it's in France) that was once wrought with action and despair. I got shivers not from the cold, but thinking of the impact that this very place had in both France and US history.
Again, we loaded on the bus and napped our way to St. Malo, a fortified city in Bretagne, or Brittany. It was charming, more winding streets and little shops. There was not much color compared to Collioure, but there were many more crepes! Brittany is the home of the crepe, and not just your average looks-like-a-pancake- throw-some-Nutella-on-there-oh-and-add-a-banana-for-good-measure crepe. For dinner, I had steak (yes, I'm still trying new things!) with onions and tomatoes in a buckwheat crepe, which I had never seen before! It was like compressed wheat bread, but so much better. Go try it, you'll see.
After getting a comfortable night's sleep we departed the next day for Mont St. Michel, one of the 7 marvels of the world! Yes, marvels are made by man, and wonders are stumbled upon and we wonder (get it?) who made them! After trekking up a hill of adorable shops and more creperies we made it to the entrance which presented us with more stairs. We made our way up and finally got to explore the abbey. It was comprised of many empty stone rooms, all of which monks used for prayer, eating in the refectory, and a chapel for burial. Of course, outside on the terrace provided us with more incredible views. The tide was out, the sand stretched along one side of the abbey and the other side reminded me of a green patchwork quilt. It was the quintessential french countryside, which we saw more of as we made our 5 hour journey home. Cows and sheep grazed lazily in their fields and I have to admit I was a little jealous, as most of my body began to insensate on the bus. It was a busy weekend but it was interesting to see such historic places and regions that were completely unlike Paris! It's good to be home, though.

The Strike (part deux)

Well, we're heading in to week two of the metro strike. It started last Tuesday with more demonstrations full of music, marching, and even free food. The majority of the population opposes the reform Sarkozy is proposing, and therefore support the strike. The story goes that the retirement age from 60 to 62, and one can no longer collect a full pension at 65, they must wait those extra two years until age 67.
A lot of American students I have spoken to are thoroughly exasperated with this issue. "I'm going to have to work til I'm 80," we all say, "62 looks pretty good to me." It's true, the reaction France has had to this idea of Sarkozy's has only reinforced stereotypes of the French: lazy complainers.
On the one hand, it seems futile. Why inconvenience a nation when really, it isn't so bad to work two more years. After all, they are notorious for the 35 hour work week and they are privileged with a great amount of vacation time. It seems unlikely that Sarkozy will change his mind, he's called this retirement issue "non-negotiable," so why all the fuss? The strike is making life a lot harder not for the elite, who are in control of the decisions, but the general, every day people. It's a good idea; rally the everyman together and effect change. Except it doesn't seem like that's happening.
I admire the French for standing up in what they believe in and trying to make a country for and by the people. After all, America had no problem voicing its opinion during Vietnam. Where is our fire now? But on the other hand, I missed out on a trip to Provence because of this! The one place I had my heart set on to visit in France, and I never got to go. I lost a good chunk of euro-change on the hotel as well. Luckily, I will be reimbursed for the tickets, but it almost doesn't matter when I think about everything I could have seen and experienced. This could have been a perfect catalyst for action. Although I'm an American, I could have done some research and found a way to complain or tell Sarkozy, or a representative of my district, that I don't agree with the changes to the retirement age.
But I didn't. As a foreigner, I feel I shouldn't bother in other countries politics, especially when I'm not entirely educated on the subject. But are people in France who do know what's going on taking action? My guess is no. So why go on?
This Thursday there will be a vote as to whether or not the strike should keep on rolling. Of course, everyone from API is praying for an end. As for the rest of the country, I guess we're going to have to wait and see how far they'll go to get their voices heard.

You know you've adjusted to living in Paris when...

You don't smile at passersby, other people on the metro, tram, or RER. Silly American, smiles are for kids!
You've mastered the withering stare. No, I'm not scowling at you, but I certainly won't smile.
A baguette is a better accessory than a purse or a puppy.
Metro strikes don't phase you, they're a part of life. Finding an alternate route? That's your specialty.
If you want to open the doors of the tram or the metro, do it yourself.
You can walk up the hill of Montmatre in heels. At night. (I still haven't mastered that one myself)
You can contain yourself and have a conversation quietly. Those cafe chairs are close together, you don't want anyone else hearing about your business!
Tip? What's that?
Crepes aren't an indulgence, they're a way of life.
You have one, or more, panini stands that you frequent. Bumping into your panini proprietors at the grocery store is common.
You don't need to speed-walk down the street. Actually, why not stop in the middle of it and finish your conversation? Others can walk around you, pas de problem.
Brushing past someone to get onto the metro first isn't offensive, it's just part of the morning commute.
The key to making it through the commute- layers. Even when it's 19C (that's right, I said Celsius), the metro is still a sauna. Wear things to take off without ending up french beach style.
Forget personal space. Just forget it.

I've learned so much in just three weeks! In three months I will be truly Parisian...and then it's time to re-adapt to America...

Day Trippin

Last weekend was spent in the southern region of France, Roussillon. We stayed in Collioure, a small town in a valley about a half an hour’s drive from Perpignan, the city we flew in to. It was charming and quaint, a perfect getaway from the city. The streets were small and winding, with shops and gelato stands every few meters (not feet, this is France!). Each building was a different color, red or pink or yellow. The Mediterranean was almost as blue as the sky, and the Pyrenees towered above us the entire weekend. We took a tourist train ride up the mountains, and the view was incredible. It was so surreal; you learn about the Mediterranean and the Pyrenees in class when you’re young, but do you ever think, someday I’ll go see them! Someday I’ll walk on the mountains and swim in the sea.
Yes, I swam in the Mediterranean. In October. It was as much fun as it was cold.
The city of Perpignan was a little bigger, a little busier than Collioure. We were able to see old city walls that at one time belonged to Spain. There’s a long history of territory battles between France and Spain, and a lot of it happened right in Perpignan. The ownership of the city went back and forth until the very late 1400s. We also saw the Cathedral of John the Baptist, that looked from the outside as if it was built during the Renaissance, but it dated back to the Middle Ages. It was very simple on the outside but extravagant on the inside.
The last day of the trip we traveled to Villefranche de Conflent, where we saw famous grottos, or caves, of Les Grottes des Grandes Calanettes. Imagine, one hundred years of a human life only adds up to a second in the life of the stalactites and stalagmites. The “galleries,” basically certain sections of the cave, were enormous. The largest gallery was called the Cathedral, and it looked like one that was made entirely by Earth itself. Some stalagmites rose out of the ground as tall as me! The man who discovered one of the galleries gave us a tour, and what a character. He was so passionate about his findings and the knowledge he was giving to us. His charismatic demeanor came through even though he spoke only French and Spanish, and Annemarie had to translate.
It was an active weekend, yet I felt entirely relaxed as I gazed out over the sea up past the mountains. The sea air was refreshing, and it was so interesting to see a new side of France. I can’t wait to see more!