So Annick and I were invited to dinner at one of her friends houses. If there is one thing I've learned is how gracious hosts the French are. Highlight of the night was that she had a piano: after some persuasion I dusted off 3 months of dust and somehow made it though some songs. Just as we were leaving, her son (Antoine) was coming home. After our 30 second conversation, he invited me out for a drink the next day which I jumped to take him up on. I met him and a friend for dinner on Monday. After an hour of them obviously talking slowly for me, I asked them to speak normally. Trying to loose the silly American, they talked in rapid, highly slanged French and were very surprised when I followed (or at least so they thought: a well placed guess goes a long way). They settled into what seemed like a normal pace and I was very pleased that I could be a productive member of the conversation.
So with cheating the SNCF out of so many days on my rail pass I realize I hardly have enough days to use all of them. With Debbie doing such an excellent job showing us the area, there was hardly anything else I wanted to see. Then I remembered something that I learned about in French class:
Le Viaduc de Millau. Ill include explanations from several sources:
French Book: One of the greatest architectural works of the new millennium and a great source of national pride for the French.
Debbie: Something in the region that is way to tall to consider visiting much less driving on.
Annick: A really useful bridge out in the middle of nowhere that helps me get to my sisters house
Bruno: What? [After showing him a picture] Is that in France?
After the overwhelmingly positive response from the French, I looked into getting there.
Here's the timetable I worked out that the lady at the tourism office called "inconceivably possible" (quick note here: I wasnt sure if this was a testament to how perfectly these times matched up or how crazy it would be to try it. I decided to go with the former):
Class ends 11h30, Leave Montpellier 11h57, Get into Millau at 15h03, Tour bus leaves at 15h30, gets back 17:30, Train leaves Millau 17:46, get back into Montpellier 20:35.
Readers will kindly consider two factoids: The train station and bus station are .5km apart, the next train back to Montpellier left Millau at 5:40AM (so we would have gotten back for class, but not happily).
I asked the rest of the group if they wanted to come. In hindsight it was probably stupid to ask a group of 16 girls if they wanted to spend 6 hours on a train to see a big bridge or go to one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. I got 1 taker.
Katie and I executed the timetable perfectly (and even found time for some lunch). The trip was made much better by our musical exchange (which approximatly doubled my iTunes collection).
When we finally got to Millau, the air was light: light enough to easily take the deep, greedy breaths that make us realize how little of our lungs we actually use (que all readers taking a deep breath) (much like the breaths after a 2k except slower and much more enjoyable). The city seemed nice enough, and our tour guide was awesome, "Welcome aboard the tour bus for the Eiffel Tower....no?" and the bridge was totally worth the 6 hours on the train. It measures 2.5 km long, 35m across, 343m tall (cool number trick: # of pillars=7. ^3= 343) and is thus the tallest bridge in the world.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Le Tour de France
Old lady with the grocery cart: Get On the BUS!!
It was going to be a close one. I had never missed a train in France but if this lady took more than 2 minutes (it was about that) I was going to. We pull up to the train station and I check my phone. Missed it. 6:43 for a 6:42 Train. I mope into the train station just to hear (in French) "The Train to Toulouse is departing from track A" it was running late! I sprint to the track and I get my arm stuck in the door making the conductor re-open the door.
I get to Toulouse and meet up with Mike. The Plan: I was meeting up with a UGA PhD student (Mike) his wife (Alicia) and their 1 year old son (Emmett). They were going to rent a car and we were driving to see the Tour de France.
Along the way we stopped in Montségur.
Slept on a tarp I borrowed from Annick in a beautiful Campground.
Staked out the tour at the top of the first really small hill.
A parade precedes the tour where scantily clad women throw free stuff at the spectators from funny cars. Emmett liked that part.
Here comes the....There they go.
I got sun burned really badly.
It was going to be a close one. I had never missed a train in France but if this lady took more than 2 minutes (it was about that) I was going to. We pull up to the train station and I check my phone. Missed it. 6:43 for a 6:42 Train. I mope into the train station just to hear (in French) "The Train to Toulouse is departing from track A" it was running late! I sprint to the track and I get my arm stuck in the door making the conductor re-open the door.
I get to Toulouse and meet up with Mike. The Plan: I was meeting up with a UGA PhD student (Mike) his wife (Alicia) and their 1 year old son (Emmett). They were going to rent a car and we were driving to see the Tour de France.
Along the way we stopped in Montségur.
Slept on a tarp I borrowed from Annick in a beautiful Campground.
Staked out the tour at the top of the first really small hill.
A parade precedes the tour where scantily clad women throw free stuff at the spectators from funny cars. Emmett liked that part.
Here comes the....There they go.
I got sun burned really badly.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Le jour de la pris de la Bastille
Today was one of my favorite days in France.
We didnt have class in the morning, so I was able to sleep in till 9 and go for a run before it was to hot. I discovered that there is a vineyard about 20 feet outside my window. I actually ran on the roads today ( I usually stick to the trails next to the tram stop) so I drew about 5 awkward looks a mile (made exponentially worse by the fact that I had to stop and stretch out my back who was acting up). I've decided to run the Thanksgiving Day Marathon this year. If anyone wants to join Derek and I in our quest for fitness please do, I really need some training partners.
After I got back from the run, I showered off and ate lunch with the family. Hugo invited me to go rock-climbing with him, his brother (Jonathan), and Jon's girlfriend (Celine). I knew there was a rock gym not far from the house, so I signed on for a quick trip.
I'll take this opportunity to explain two things that are important but not redly obvious:
1. When I arrived in Montpellier, Hugo had just returned from the French National Gymnastics competition where he had placed 7th. Thus, Hugo is jacked. He's one of those people who can flex muscles you didnt even know existed. This is made exponentially worse by the fact that its really hot here, no one wears shirts during the day in my house and I'm in the worst shape since 7th grade. Jon is well past his physical prime compared to Hugo, as he sports a mere 8-pack (to hugo's 12 pack)
2. Hugo, Jon, and Celine got back a week ago from a month long vacation in Vietnam. What I didnt learn until the car ride with Hugo was that it was to climb cliffs on the Vietnamese coast.
With these to trinkets in the back of your mind, imagine my chagrin when we hopped in the car and drove an hour to Pic Saint Loup. As we approached the wall with our gear (oh yea, bad sign #3, they all owned fitted harnesses, as well as numerous climbing accouterments) I started to sweat a little. Ok, its obvious I cant keep up with Atlas et Brother over there, but luckily we were with Celine, a 5', petit, soft spoken girl: surely I can keep up with here. No sooner did I think this than Celine lit a cigarette, chalked up her hands, and said "Let's do this bitch. " (excuse her French).
This seems like the appropriate time to note that this was not BSA safe-climb regulated top rope belay climbing. No we were Lead Climbing: there were metal rings along the route which you had to carabiner then run your rope through the 'biner.
All this being said, as a proud climbing merit badge holder, I feel like I held my own. Granted I didnt get to the top of any of them, but at least I didnt burst into tears like one of the group who was on the other face. I was very obviously the worst of the group, but they blamed it on my tennis shoes (they all had personalized climbing shoes) I think there might be two other reasons (each of Hugo's biceps).
After 5ish hours of climbing we came back home, ate dinner, and I had to quickly leave to go see the Fireworks for the 14th of July or Bastille Day.
Other than not having work and going and seeing fireworks, Bastille Day isnt at all like the 4th of July. Whereas we are celebrating signing a document liberating us from a common enemy, Bastille day was a dark day in French history with lots of death and anarchy. On a related note, their national anthem is hardcore. La Marseillaise actually has the line "May the unpure blood water our furrows."
We took a bus over to a large open area where we could see the fireworks and they were fantastic. Maybe the best firework show that I've ever seen. As the firework show ended everyone burst into applause and I was left with that warm tingling sensation you get after a great meal.
Slowly everyone came back to the real world and our attention shifted to the long line of buses waiting on the street. Our sentiments quickly shifted from patriotic to lord-of-the-flies-esque as thousands of people flocked to the buses. I think Jamie put it best: it was like trying to get on a life boat while the Titanic was sinking. After 3 hours of fighting mob-mentality, 2 buses and a tram later I was home.
We didnt have class in the morning, so I was able to sleep in till 9 and go for a run before it was to hot. I discovered that there is a vineyard about 20 feet outside my window. I actually ran on the roads today ( I usually stick to the trails next to the tram stop) so I drew about 5 awkward looks a mile (made exponentially worse by the fact that I had to stop and stretch out my back who was acting up). I've decided to run the Thanksgiving Day Marathon this year. If anyone wants to join Derek and I in our quest for fitness please do, I really need some training partners.
After I got back from the run, I showered off and ate lunch with the family. Hugo invited me to go rock-climbing with him, his brother (Jonathan), and Jon's girlfriend (Celine). I knew there was a rock gym not far from the house, so I signed on for a quick trip.
I'll take this opportunity to explain two things that are important but not redly obvious:
1. When I arrived in Montpellier, Hugo had just returned from the French National Gymnastics competition where he had placed 7th. Thus, Hugo is jacked. He's one of those people who can flex muscles you didnt even know existed. This is made exponentially worse by the fact that its really hot here, no one wears shirts during the day in my house and I'm in the worst shape since 7th grade. Jon is well past his physical prime compared to Hugo, as he sports a mere 8-pack (to hugo's 12 pack)
2. Hugo, Jon, and Celine got back a week ago from a month long vacation in Vietnam. What I didnt learn until the car ride with Hugo was that it was to climb cliffs on the Vietnamese coast.
With these to trinkets in the back of your mind, imagine my chagrin when we hopped in the car and drove an hour to Pic Saint Loup. As we approached the wall with our gear (oh yea, bad sign #3, they all owned fitted harnesses, as well as numerous climbing accouterments) I started to sweat a little. Ok, its obvious I cant keep up with Atlas et Brother over there, but luckily we were with Celine, a 5', petit, soft spoken girl: surely I can keep up with here. No sooner did I think this than Celine lit a cigarette, chalked up her hands, and said "Let's do this bitch. " (excuse her French).
This seems like the appropriate time to note that this was not BSA safe-climb regulated top rope belay climbing. No we were Lead Climbing: there were metal rings along the route which you had to carabiner then run your rope through the 'biner.
All this being said, as a proud climbing merit badge holder, I feel like I held my own. Granted I didnt get to the top of any of them, but at least I didnt burst into tears like one of the group who was on the other face. I was very obviously the worst of the group, but they blamed it on my tennis shoes (they all had personalized climbing shoes) I think there might be two other reasons (each of Hugo's biceps).
After 5ish hours of climbing we came back home, ate dinner, and I had to quickly leave to go see the Fireworks for the 14th of July or Bastille Day.
Other than not having work and going and seeing fireworks, Bastille Day isnt at all like the 4th of July. Whereas we are celebrating signing a document liberating us from a common enemy, Bastille day was a dark day in French history with lots of death and anarchy. On a related note, their national anthem is hardcore. La Marseillaise actually has the line "May the unpure blood water our furrows."
We took a bus over to a large open area where we could see the fireworks and they were fantastic. Maybe the best firework show that I've ever seen. As the firework show ended everyone burst into applause and I was left with that warm tingling sensation you get after a great meal.
Slowly everyone came back to the real world and our attention shifted to the long line of buses waiting on the street. Our sentiments quickly shifted from patriotic to lord-of-the-flies-esque as thousands of people flocked to the buses. I think Jamie put it best: it was like trying to get on a life boat while the Titanic was sinking. After 3 hours of fighting mob-mentality, 2 buses and a tram later I was home.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Lyon
A few general comments before the Lyon post:
1. It has been brought to my attention that The Purple Rhino appears to be pink. While you may think he is pink through perception, I know he is Purple through belief.
2. I just finished my final project for my class on the Midi: a video on Ratatouille. If you want to know anything about this typically southern French dish ask someone else because Im tired of talking about it. Kidding.
3.My tennis shoes just (slightly) broke. Im hesitant to tell Annick in fear that she might send me into the garden with a bottle of mustard and figs.
4. I'll be darned if my jeans are as good as new
This Saturday I went to Lyon by myself. 4am Wake up. 6:15 Leave Montpellier. 8:45 change trains in Avignon. 10:16 Arrive in Lyon.
I met a girl through Debbie who did the UGA en France last year and who lives in Lyon now. She did a Spring semester at University of Lyon III, the very program I went to check out. She was gracious enough to show me around and invite me to dinner at her apartment with her French boyfriend. We walked through the old city (its the stereotypical French city idea), walked around the University (literally, it was closed). Seeing at it was about 37C (99F) with no wind, we returned to the apartment for conversation and cold drinks.
I didnt really like Lyon, dispite being the 3rd biggest city in France (after Paris and Marseilles) it seemed kinda dead. Maybe it was the heat, but I didnt leave Lyon didnt leave Lyon dying to go back as I expect I will Montpellier. Speaking of leaving Lyon....
My return train was a TGV with a change in Valence. 2 hours. The train to Valence was running late so I would have missed my connection. I told the SNCF guys this, and they said no problem. They gave me a 1st class ticket for the direct train (there were no 2nd class so that's why i didnt buy one originally). Train 5020 leaving from tracks J...IN 3 MINUTES. I sprint to the tracks and get on just as the doors are closing. I find my first class seat and send a celebratory test just as I hear the announcement "Welcome aboard Train 5021 direct to Marseilles France." This train was running late and the correct train was behind it on track J. Due to technical difficulty, the train couldnt use the TGV tracks: bad news we werent going as fast, good news the train was stopping before Marseilles. I get escorted off the train at the first stop: Valence. Because we wernt on TGV tracks, I found myself in Valence TER (two completely different train stations) after a 5 minute arguing match with the Controller (on the bright side GREAT french practice) I got a bus ticket to Valence TGV. 30 minutes on the bus playing the most grateing Romanian Techno imaginable and I arrived at Valence TGV, secured a ticket for the next train to Montpellier. Train pulls up, "where does this train go?" "montpellier". Sucre! Get on the train. Controller walks up, I give him my ticket. "Sir, you dont have the right to be on this train." "Excuse me?" All the trains were running late because of the aforementioned TGV track problem. I had actually caught the train before the one I got the ticket for. Luckily the train was empty, the controller was reasonable, and the first stop was Montpellier. I pull into Montpellier at 11:35. 3 hours behind schedule.
My favorite part of this whole thing: I my train reservation upfront and planned on using a day on my eurorail pass. However, throughout this whole ordeal, they didnt check my Euro-rail pass and thus I didnt loose the day. Total cost of the whole day: 6 euro. Im pretty sure I got more than 6 euro worth of tickets (7 in total).
I know that was a giant confusing mess. Let me know if anything need clarification.
Tomorrow is Bastille Day (French Independence day), no class, only frivolity and fireworks.
1. It has been brought to my attention that The Purple Rhino appears to be pink. While you may think he is pink through perception, I know he is Purple through belief.
2. I just finished my final project for my class on the Midi: a video on Ratatouille. If you want to know anything about this typically southern French dish ask someone else because Im tired of talking about it. Kidding.
3.My tennis shoes just (slightly) broke. Im hesitant to tell Annick in fear that she might send me into the garden with a bottle of mustard and figs.
4. I'll be darned if my jeans are as good as new
This Saturday I went to Lyon by myself. 4am Wake up. 6:15 Leave Montpellier. 8:45 change trains in Avignon. 10:16 Arrive in Lyon.
I met a girl through Debbie who did the UGA en France last year and who lives in Lyon now. She did a Spring semester at University of Lyon III, the very program I went to check out. She was gracious enough to show me around and invite me to dinner at her apartment with her French boyfriend. We walked through the old city (its the stereotypical French city idea), walked around the University (literally, it was closed). Seeing at it was about 37C (99F) with no wind, we returned to the apartment for conversation and cold drinks.
I didnt really like Lyon, dispite being the 3rd biggest city in France (after Paris and Marseilles) it seemed kinda dead. Maybe it was the heat, but I didnt leave Lyon didnt leave Lyon dying to go back as I expect I will Montpellier. Speaking of leaving Lyon....
My return train was a TGV with a change in Valence. 2 hours. The train to Valence was running late so I would have missed my connection. I told the SNCF guys this, and they said no problem. They gave me a 1st class ticket for the direct train (there were no 2nd class so that's why i didnt buy one originally). Train 5020 leaving from tracks J...IN 3 MINUTES. I sprint to the tracks and get on just as the doors are closing. I find my first class seat and send a celebratory test just as I hear the announcement "Welcome aboard Train 5021 direct to Marseilles France." This train was running late and the correct train was behind it on track J. Due to technical difficulty, the train couldnt use the TGV tracks: bad news we werent going as fast, good news the train was stopping before Marseilles. I get escorted off the train at the first stop: Valence. Because we wernt on TGV tracks, I found myself in Valence TER (two completely different train stations) after a 5 minute arguing match with the Controller (on the bright side GREAT french practice) I got a bus ticket to Valence TGV. 30 minutes on the bus playing the most grateing Romanian Techno imaginable and I arrived at Valence TGV, secured a ticket for the next train to Montpellier. Train pulls up, "where does this train go?" "montpellier". Sucre! Get on the train. Controller walks up, I give him my ticket. "Sir, you dont have the right to be on this train." "Excuse me?" All the trains were running late because of the aforementioned TGV track problem. I had actually caught the train before the one I got the ticket for. Luckily the train was empty, the controller was reasonable, and the first stop was Montpellier. I pull into Montpellier at 11:35. 3 hours behind schedule.
My favorite part of this whole thing: I my train reservation upfront and planned on using a day on my eurorail pass. However, throughout this whole ordeal, they didnt check my Euro-rail pass and thus I didnt loose the day. Total cost of the whole day: 6 euro. Im pretty sure I got more than 6 euro worth of tickets (7 in total).
I know that was a giant confusing mess. Let me know if anything need clarification.
Tomorrow is Bastille Day (French Independence day), no class, only frivolity and fireworks.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Oh Purple Rhino, touch me with your plumb point and guide me to something cool
After getting back from Paris on Thursday night, we took 2 days to sleep and reduce the swelling in our feet.
Aboard another mini-bus, into the valley of the Midi drove the brave twenty . First stop, Pont Du Gard. Built in '54, 0054 that is. The story goes as such. The architect tried to build the bridge a couple of times (I built a bridge, it sank into the swamp. I built a second, it sank into the swamp. I built a third, it burnt down, fell over, then sank into the swamp) so he made a deal with the Devil that if he helped build it, he would lay claim to the first soul to cross it. The next day the aqueduct was complete and a mouse scurried across the bridge, giving it's soul to the devil. Im guessing this is why no one wanted to win the inaugural run over the Cooper River bridge.
After that we went to some Abby because of the lavender fields in front of them. A collective "awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww" was had by every girl present.
We then went on to some Cathar stronghold, really cool.
Finally, we hit up a Church where Raymond VI served his penitence for the death of Pierre de Castelnau.
Positives: Fo Free
Negatives: approximately 95 degrees the whole time, I woke up late and skipped breakfast and we didnt eat lunch until 3PM, and I'm crevé.
Wednesday after class we went to Arles. Lauren and I went off looking for a photography exhibition (the symbol for which was a Purple Rhinoceros). We joked that we didnt know where it was but the Purple Rhino would guide us. After "following the gospel of the purple rhino" we stumbled upon the Espace de Van Gogh (the french pronounce the second "g" btw). It was beautiful (the flower pictures on the Picasa), augmented by the fact Lauren, haven worked in a plant nursery knew every flower. By the grace of the Purple Rhino we found the exposition. 35 Euros? Holy Purple Rhino that's expensive! We rocked the free brochure area instead. Some guy took Laurens picture, and I must have scowled at him because he apologized and asked my permission. We talked for a little and then headed out.
[excited whisper] "...Lauren!"
[slightly peeved] "What Matt?"
[openly ecstatic] "We found the purple rhino!"
And there he stood, in all his mauve majesty. After a few touristy photos, we waded in the fountain (bet part of Arles as it was hot anything) and then headed over to the Colosseum.
We then watched a Course Camargese, ( you might be more familiar with its better known Spanish cousin the Bull Fight). But in this one they dont kill the bull. Instead they try to grab a ribbon tied in between the horns (what some boys will do for attention). Watch the video on Picassa for a better impression, but it mostly involved running right at the bull until it chases you, then running for your life at the wall and jumping over. Sometimes the bull follows. I really enjoyed it (Carmen background music and all). Im not sure if Arles was my favorite city, but its been the excursion I've had the most fun on!
Aboard another mini-bus, into the valley of the Midi drove the brave twenty . First stop, Pont Du Gard. Built in '54, 0054 that is. The story goes as such. The architect tried to build the bridge a couple of times (I built a bridge, it sank into the swamp. I built a second, it sank into the swamp. I built a third, it burnt down, fell over, then sank into the swamp) so he made a deal with the Devil that if he helped build it, he would lay claim to the first soul to cross it. The next day the aqueduct was complete and a mouse scurried across the bridge, giving it's soul to the devil. Im guessing this is why no one wanted to win the inaugural run over the Cooper River bridge.
After that we went to some Abby because of the lavender fields in front of them. A collective "awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww" was had by every girl present.
We then went on to some Cathar stronghold, really cool.
Finally, we hit up a Church where Raymond VI served his penitence for the death of Pierre de Castelnau.
Positives: Fo Free
Negatives: approximately 95 degrees the whole time, I woke up late and skipped breakfast and we didnt eat lunch until 3PM, and I'm crevé.
Wednesday after class we went to Arles. Lauren and I went off looking for a photography exhibition (the symbol for which was a Purple Rhinoceros). We joked that we didnt know where it was but the Purple Rhino would guide us. After "following the gospel of the purple rhino" we stumbled upon the Espace de Van Gogh (the french pronounce the second "g" btw). It was beautiful (the flower pictures on the Picasa), augmented by the fact Lauren, haven worked in a plant nursery knew every flower. By the grace of the Purple Rhino we found the exposition. 35 Euros? Holy Purple Rhino that's expensive! We rocked the free brochure area instead. Some guy took Laurens picture, and I must have scowled at him because he apologized and asked my permission. We talked for a little and then headed out.
[excited whisper] "...Lauren!"
[slightly peeved] "What Matt?"
[openly ecstatic] "We found the purple rhino!"
And there he stood, in all his mauve majesty. After a few touristy photos, we waded in the fountain (bet part of Arles as it was hot anything) and then headed over to the Colosseum.
We then watched a Course Camargese, ( you might be more familiar with its better known Spanish cousin the Bull Fight). But in this one they dont kill the bull. Instead they try to grab a ribbon tied in between the horns (what some boys will do for attention). Watch the video on Picassa for a better impression, but it mostly involved running right at the bull until it chases you, then running for your life at the wall and jumping over. Sometimes the bull follows. I really enjoyed it (Carmen background music and all). Im not sure if Arles was my favorite city, but its been the excursion I've had the most fun on!
Matt the handy man
So there I stood in the kitchen in my under ware, rubbing half an onion on my jeans. Let me explain.
Recently Annick discovered that I am not completely incompetent. It all started when my tram closed for construction, so now I have an 1 hour tram/bus/tram/walk to class. So I asked if she had a bike, in fact she had three, none of which were close to working. after sawing through the chasis of one, completely reconstructing the brake lines, and other small adjustments, I made a Frankenstein of a bike. Impressed by my handy work, she showed me a fountain she bought a few months ago. Some light plumbing and drilling and we now have a working fountain. Install a hose? Done. Build a table from lumber? With cross supports and everything.
After all of these home improvements (all done in 2 days I might add), Annick returned the next day with my reward. A DESK FAN!!!! (for those of you out of the loop, its in the 100's here and there is no air conditioning) lovelovelove it/her.
As I was putting it together, Annick commented on the whole in my jeans (which developed before Paris, I sewed it together, and it re-tore above the mend). "Surely if we can do all of these home improvements we can mend your jeans!" I bought a self-adhesive patch (the iron-on ones) and we ironed it on. Unfortunatly we also left an iron-sized burn mark on them. After a quick google search, Annick was convinced that Onion juice removes the "burnt color". I didnt even try to argue. So there I found myself, rubbing an onion on my jeans.
Classes have been going well. We've been learning about supply and demand curves in French. Im the only Econ-major in the class (including Jean the Professor) so that's fun. Annick's two sons came back from Vientam this week, so we went over their house to a picture party. Im pretty sure her other son thinks I'm stupid: with his head in the fridge, he says something in French apparently it was at me, (i have difficulties in this situation in English) I ask him to repeat. He leans forward, stares at me "EST..-CE... QUE... TU... AIMES... LA... FRANCE?!?!?!" note to self, speaking louder does not aid comprehension.
My train to Lyon leaves at 6:15 tomorrow morning...ugh
Recently Annick discovered that I am not completely incompetent. It all started when my tram closed for construction, so now I have an 1 hour tram/bus/tram/walk to class. So I asked if she had a bike, in fact she had three, none of which were close to working. after sawing through the chasis of one, completely reconstructing the brake lines, and other small adjustments, I made a Frankenstein of a bike. Impressed by my handy work, she showed me a fountain she bought a few months ago. Some light plumbing and drilling and we now have a working fountain. Install a hose? Done. Build a table from lumber? With cross supports and everything.
After all of these home improvements (all done in 2 days I might add), Annick returned the next day with my reward. A DESK FAN!!!! (for those of you out of the loop, its in the 100's here and there is no air conditioning) lovelovelove it/her.
As I was putting it together, Annick commented on the whole in my jeans (which developed before Paris, I sewed it together, and it re-tore above the mend). "Surely if we can do all of these home improvements we can mend your jeans!" I bought a self-adhesive patch (the iron-on ones) and we ironed it on. Unfortunatly we also left an iron-sized burn mark on them. After a quick google search, Annick was convinced that Onion juice removes the "burnt color". I didnt even try to argue. So there I found myself, rubbing an onion on my jeans.
Classes have been going well. We've been learning about supply and demand curves in French. Im the only Econ-major in the class (including Jean the Professor) so that's fun. Annick's two sons came back from Vientam this week, so we went over their house to a picture party. Im pretty sure her other son thinks I'm stupid: with his head in the fridge, he says something in French apparently it was at me, (i have difficulties in this situation in English) I ask him to repeat. He leans forward, stares at me "EST..-CE... QUE... TU... AIMES... LA... FRANCE?!?!?!" note to self, speaking louder does not aid comprehension.
My train to Lyon leaves at 6:15 tomorrow morning...ugh
Friday, July 2, 2010
Paris (for realsies)
Im sorry for the delay, everything seems to be moving at lightspeed now that I realized I only have 3 weeks left!
Paris
Sunday
So we arrive in Paris, after a 10 minute walk through the underworldesque temperature, we get to the (even hotter) tram. That takes us to our stop right by the University of Paris, and our 3 star hotel. Seeing as the we were four to a room I didnt have much choice as to who I was rooming with. Team Y-Chromosome (Seth, JD, Jean (the Buisness French Prof who just got in) and I) was stationed on the 5th floor (6th in American terms; dont ask how that works). The lift was approximately the size of that closet my parrents stuck me in at our Family Beach Renion that one time ("Oh no Matt, its just a bedroom for super-special people"). In other words, 1 person and their bag could not fit in it. That's Paris for you.
We arrive at 2, get settled in and go for a walking tour at 3. Some highlights included our first view of the Eiffel Tower, The Musee D'Orsy (Impressionist stuff, see Tuesday), and the Louvre (kinda). Little antidote: as we were standing behind the National Assembly (french House of Reps) and Keneth is talking about the importance of the building and how its historic and such. All the girls are looking kinda bored; they're all circled around him, hands on their hips taking deep laborious breaths. Then the other teacher (Viley)(sp?) interrupts him, points at the building across the street and says "Prada National Headquarters." A flash of action left Kenneth in a cloud of dust, holding handbags, and looking rather defeated as the girls magically transported to the other side of the road and produced cameras out of thin air.
At night we walked to Notre Dame (about 5 minute walk) and ate the best ice cream of my life. Creamy, sweet, rich, flavor. I went for 3 scoops of Coffee, Honey Nugat, and Cacao Whiskey. I cannot describe the latter in words, just a primordial groan of satisfaction.
Monday
Our Paris through film class ran (more realistic than first evident), from 9-1 every day and we sightsaw in famous places that movies were filmed. Cool class huh?
First of the 3 tours (not to mention the sunday one) was Kenneth's. He knows a rediculous amount about Paris and it was awesome to hear all the little stories, facts, and trinkets that he had as we saw the Seine, 7th Bridge, Lovre, Gardens, Place de Concords, Opera, Royal Gardens, Halles, Pomplidou. You will notice that this list is much longer than any of the others.... Kenneth got a little excited and walked us into the ground. On the verge of mutany, he let us depart from Notre Dame with the afternoon ahead of us. Jia, Lauren and I decided to go see the Opera from the inside. I got us lost, and by the time we got there, it closed in 5 minutes. Alas, an afternoon wasted.
Tuesday
's walk was with Debbie, where we saw Monmartre (the only place in Paris with hills). Which includes Sacre Coeur and Moulin Rouge as well as a large portion of the film Amile. Fun story, I didnt know Moulin Rouge was real until this trip...oops. Its real; promise.
The I took the afternoon by myself (didnt want to get anyone else lost) and went to the Musee D'Orsy which was awesome. Better than the Louvre in my opinion. It's filled with impressionist paintings including Monet, Manet, Degas, and my favorite, Jean Baptist Camille Carot. I then walked on over to Notre Dame, was herded like cattle through the inside, then spent 2 hours people watching. Without ranting, I would like to say this: if you're every in another country, please try to blend in; that's not to say you have to denounce your Americanism and become fluent in the language, but please try to not yell in english across the entire plaza infront of Notre Dame to your friend/spouse on the other side about your plans for lunch. Im off it.
I then took Dinner on the Seine with JD Ruthie and Seth. It was fantastic. No restaurant can beat that cheese and ham sandwich. Also, Im pretty sure Im in about 6 gagillion tourist photos of Paris from their dinner cruise.
Wednesday
It was our free day so Jean and I went to the Louvre. This was probably my least favorite thing I did in Paris; I saw the Mona Lisa (from afar), Winged Victory, and Venus de Milo (I mean I also saw tons of other stuff but, those were the highlights). I wish I appreciated art more, I feel like being an educated person I should...who knows maybe its an aquired taste. We then went over to the Cemitary Pere Lachaise (who is actually Santa's evil brother who comes and kills kids if they're bad for Christmas; makes getting coal look like a good thing [in fact with our current energy crisis I'm going to ask for coal for christmas {goes better in a stocking than crude oil}]) We saw the guy who translated the Rosetta Stone (he did it in 1 night! reminds me of finals week) and Oscar Wilde's tomb. OW's was covered in lipstick, apparently its a big thing to red-up and give him a big wet on right on the tombstone...?
We then hustled over to the Champs de Mars (the greenspace in front of The Eiffel Tower) for dinner, and took a ride on the Bateaux Mouches (which btw is only 1 letter away from being the "Ugly Boats"). Talk about a role reversal, we passed by our last night's dinner location. A hour-long walk back and some more glorious ice cream rounded off the night.
Thursday
was a short day. We walked the Arc de Triumph, Champs de Lycee, Boutiques, Grand et Petit Palais with Villay (sp?). I then climbed the Arc de Truimph, and made my way back over to see the Opera (which was awesome). A round of "Music of the Night" under my breath, and then I headed over to the train station to come back.
Paris
Sunday
So we arrive in Paris, after a 10 minute walk through the underworldesque temperature, we get to the (even hotter) tram. That takes us to our stop right by the University of Paris, and our 3 star hotel. Seeing as the we were four to a room I didnt have much choice as to who I was rooming with. Team Y-Chromosome (Seth, JD, Jean (the Buisness French Prof who just got in) and I) was stationed on the 5th floor (6th in American terms; dont ask how that works). The lift was approximately the size of that closet my parrents stuck me in at our Family Beach Renion that one time ("Oh no Matt, its just a bedroom for super-special people"). In other words, 1 person and their bag could not fit in it. That's Paris for you.
We arrive at 2, get settled in and go for a walking tour at 3. Some highlights included our first view of the Eiffel Tower, The Musee D'Orsy (Impressionist stuff, see Tuesday), and the Louvre (kinda). Little antidote: as we were standing behind the National Assembly (french House of Reps) and Keneth is talking about the importance of the building and how its historic and such. All the girls are looking kinda bored; they're all circled around him, hands on their hips taking deep laborious breaths. Then the other teacher (Viley)(sp?) interrupts him, points at the building across the street and says "Prada National Headquarters." A flash of action left Kenneth in a cloud of dust, holding handbags, and looking rather defeated as the girls magically transported to the other side of the road and produced cameras out of thin air.
At night we walked to Notre Dame (about 5 minute walk) and ate the best ice cream of my life. Creamy, sweet, rich, flavor. I went for 3 scoops of Coffee, Honey Nugat, and Cacao Whiskey. I cannot describe the latter in words, just a primordial groan of satisfaction.
Monday
Our Paris through film class ran (more realistic than first evident), from 9-1 every day and we sightsaw in famous places that movies were filmed. Cool class huh?
First of the 3 tours (not to mention the sunday one) was Kenneth's. He knows a rediculous amount about Paris and it was awesome to hear all the little stories, facts, and trinkets that he had as we saw the Seine, 7th Bridge, Lovre, Gardens, Place de Concords, Opera, Royal Gardens, Halles, Pomplidou. You will notice that this list is much longer than any of the others.... Kenneth got a little excited and walked us into the ground. On the verge of mutany, he let us depart from Notre Dame with the afternoon ahead of us. Jia, Lauren and I decided to go see the Opera from the inside. I got us lost, and by the time we got there, it closed in 5 minutes. Alas, an afternoon wasted.
Tuesday
's walk was with Debbie, where we saw Monmartre (the only place in Paris with hills). Which includes Sacre Coeur and Moulin Rouge as well as a large portion of the film Amile. Fun story, I didnt know Moulin Rouge was real until this trip...oops. Its real; promise.
The I took the afternoon by myself (didnt want to get anyone else lost) and went to the Musee D'Orsy which was awesome. Better than the Louvre in my opinion. It's filled with impressionist paintings including Monet, Manet, Degas, and my favorite, Jean Baptist Camille Carot. I then walked on over to Notre Dame, was herded like cattle through the inside, then spent 2 hours people watching. Without ranting, I would like to say this: if you're every in another country, please try to blend in; that's not to say you have to denounce your Americanism and become fluent in the language, but please try to not yell in english across the entire plaza infront of Notre Dame to your friend/spouse on the other side about your plans for lunch. Im off it.
I then took Dinner on the Seine with JD Ruthie and Seth. It was fantastic. No restaurant can beat that cheese and ham sandwich. Also, Im pretty sure Im in about 6 gagillion tourist photos of Paris from their dinner cruise.
Wednesday
It was our free day so Jean and I went to the Louvre. This was probably my least favorite thing I did in Paris; I saw the Mona Lisa (from afar), Winged Victory, and Venus de Milo (I mean I also saw tons of other stuff but, those were the highlights). I wish I appreciated art more, I feel like being an educated person I should...who knows maybe its an aquired taste. We then went over to the Cemitary Pere Lachaise (who is actually Santa's evil brother who comes and kills kids if they're bad for Christmas; makes getting coal look like a good thing [in fact with our current energy crisis I'm going to ask for coal for christmas {goes better in a stocking than crude oil}]) We saw the guy who translated the Rosetta Stone (he did it in 1 night! reminds me of finals week) and Oscar Wilde's tomb. OW's was covered in lipstick, apparently its a big thing to red-up and give him a big wet on right on the tombstone...?
We then hustled over to the Champs de Mars (the greenspace in front of The Eiffel Tower) for dinner, and took a ride on the Bateaux Mouches (which btw is only 1 letter away from being the "Ugly Boats"). Talk about a role reversal, we passed by our last night's dinner location. A hour-long walk back and some more glorious ice cream rounded off the night.
Thursday
was a short day. We walked the Arc de Triumph, Champs de Lycee, Boutiques, Grand et Petit Palais with Villay (sp?). I then climbed the Arc de Truimph, and made my way back over to see the Opera (which was awesome). A round of "Music of the Night" under my breath, and then I headed over to the train station to come back.
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