C'est pas au revoir, c'est a tout a l'heure!

I’m sitting in the Heathrow airport only two hours after leaving, and I’m missing Paris already. I’ve said “Pardon” at least 5 times to random Americans on my plane and I got a little bit defensive when my Wagamama noodles waitor kept checking on me (and who would’ve thought after all this time longing for attentive waitstaff, I would miss the cold and neglectful French waiters who refuse to bring your check, leaving you at lunch for two and half hours on your last day in the city).

I’ve also started watching Love Actually in the Heathrow airport during my 5 hour layover. I felt pretty ridiculous watching the opening scene as people greet each other in this airport. Watching Hugh Grant in London, so typical American.

I met up with Katie Lee, another Chi O, a few days ago to take a walk around Paris at night and drink some beer on the seine. She kept telling me that I seemed like a big ball of energy and was super enthusiastic. It could’ve been that I decided to spend the afternoon at Versailles that afternoon or had taken so long at the Bastille market that morning, I managed to make it there for breakfast and lunch. Whatever it is about this city, I like who I’ve become here. Now I realize that this is probably a result of a five month vacation without real stress and easy traveling. I always thought I would hate living in a city and found myself to be a smaller town girl. Now, I’m not so sure. I don’t know how I’ll live without the everyday excitement of stumbling upon street performers and the metro people watching.

As we went for one last dinner at Bistro Paul Bert, completely overdressed for the casual feel of the restaurant, Theresa proposed a toast. “To love. We may not have found it in Paris, but we found each other.” These girls have been my family here, and I’m a little scared about what I will do without Gulfem to walk me home at night and to force me to eat late night ice cream, Diana to share my mushrooms and twisted sense of humor, and Theresa to show me funny youtube videos of puppies and her reassurance that I am properly dressed for whatever club we’re going to that night.

In the words of my new-found friend Sabrina, “Paris is always a good idea.”

Red Wine

Today, Diana and I went to the French Pantheon. There are old paintings of Joan of Arc and a huge pendulum. All of the important people buried there really made me wish I knew more about French history. In the crypt, complete enemies Voltaire and Rousseau are buried across from each other.

Then we headed to Chez Gladines, the only restaurant I've eaten in three times in Paris. We shared a pitcher of red wine, a huge salad, and escalope of veal (veal wrapped in ham, wrapped in potatoes, covered in cheese, and a creme fraiche sauce with mushrooms). We sat around to finish our wine and then realized that we were the only ones left in the restaurant.

After lunch, pretty tipsy after all the wine, we headed to where else? The Musee du Vin! The whole thing was basically a wax museum and pretty strange. It was collections of corkscrews from the 1800's and tools used to harvest grapes. There was even a wax statue of Napoleon taste testing wine. The tour came with a glass of wine at the end so we chose to try a red wine from Bourgogne. It had a kind of smokey flavor and you could definitely tell the difference between our two euro Nicolas bottles and this one. And once again, we were the last people in the museum and the woman had to tell us that they were closing and we needed to leave.

Then I come home to an email from my mom telling me that British Airways canceled my flight this weekend. Hopefully I will be able to make it back Tuesday and start work next week. In the meantime, I guess I will be making it to Versailles for a picnic this weekend!

To Do List...

Someone remind me to start watching Entourage this summer...just in case I forget.

Au Revoir La Defense

It's my last day in La Defense before I go stay with the girls in the Bastille, and I'm actually going to miss the darn place. The crazy giant statue of the thumb, forest of wire trees, and colorful music tunnel to the metro were all pretty intimidating at first. Now it's just become my home.

Yesterday Diana and I went to see L'Orangerie at the Jardin de Tuileries. There are two big oval rooms on the main floor completely surrounded with large Monet paintings of the water lilies and trees at Giverny. We had gone to see the garden just a few days before, so it was amazing to see how Monet really captured the feeling of the garden in his work. I can't believe I almost left Paris without seeing this place.

Last night, Cindy and I went out in Etienne Marcel. This area of Paris, near Pompidou, that is like its own little community. During the day there are hippie clothing stores and small gourmet food boutiques. By the time we got to the area, a lot of bars were winding down. We stopped in a random pub, sat at the bar, and ordered two beers. We got to talking to the bartenders and found that one girl was from Los Angelos while the guy was from Scotland. The girl poured us shots and when we asked about why she was here, she told us that she fell in Love while studying abroad in Bordeaux in college and is now living with her French boyfriend. She also told us that she thought Virginia was one of the most underrated states, and that it is one of the most beautiful places in the country- we were immediately won over. Then she made us a very very strong drink to share, and Cindy and I were set for the rest of the night. There was a regular next to us at the bar who apparently is a writer working for Newsweek in Paris. He had been writing stories about this blogger who paints portraits of people she meets on the metro, and I couldn’t stop asking questions in the hopes that I could figure out how to get Leslie a job with him. We talk to this guy for a good hour, but it’s not until he lights up a cigarette on the way home that we realize he only has two fingers.

Our original plan was to go home after this, but that is never how things work with Cindy and me. There is a sister bar of the original pub on the way home, so naturally we need to stop for one more beer. We get to talking to the bartenders and find out that they are Irish and Scottish. This begins a series of discussions on the word “lashing” and “gap yar.” We start talking to two French guys who both work for insurance companies –one of them actually works for the same company I’m interning for this summer. We speak French with them for about an hour and a half, learning how to say the word “database” in French and discussing how Americans don’t travel as much because they are so isolated…typical French-American conversation. We then realize it’s 3:30 and we really needed to leave to meet Gulfem at her place. We stop to take pictures with Sciences Po- something I was way too embarrassed to do during the daytime when all the French students were outside smoking and judging me for wearing a Jansport backpack. All in all, I couldn’t have asked for a better last Saturday night in Paris.

La vie en rose is almost over...

"Paris has 10,000 poissons, exactly how many poissons does your aquarium have?" Beach Week 2010, La Rochelle

The entire time in La Rochelle we were trying to compare the town to something we knew. At first it reminded me of the Outer Banks, but then you would pass old homes, world war II forts, bakeries, old men on bicycles, old men in speedos, and everyone speaking French and we knew that this place was a far cry from any town in North Carolina. We planned the trip Wednesday afternoon and left on Thursday morning at 10am. All we knew about the town was that there was a nearby island you could take a boat to and a beach. Other than that, we were pretty much winging it.

Jeudi: Our day began Thursday afternoon where we checked into our hotel (a real hotel! with our own private bathroom and clean sheets and free towels). I never appreciated hotels like this until after traveling Europe in hostels. We started walking around the town, stopping to sit by the water and watch the ships pass by. While we were walking, we found an ice cream place with about 40 different flavors and homemade cones. This would soon become our daily routine for the rest of the trip. I got blood orange and raspberry sorbet, only to watch it fall right off the cone as we reached the water. We decided to grab some wine and chips to enjoy by the water, and within an hour I was already burnt and too tipsy to really care. We found a small street with nice restaurants and picked a place called Cote de Boeuf for it's lower fixed price dinner menu. Despite the name of the restaurant, we ordered crab and shrimp. I was having some difficulties eating the grilled shrimp and one of my tails ended up flying across the table. Fortunately, it landed on Diana's side so she got the look when the waitress came to clear our table. Exhausted and a little red, we decided to go back to the hotel and wake up early for the bus ride to Ile de Re.

Vendredi: Friday morning we rolled out of bed around 10, put on our bathing suits, and ran to catch the 11 o clock bus for Ile de Re. We were all set with grocery bags full of Doritos and a 1.5 liter bottle of euro sangria. When we got to the station, we were informed that the next bus would not be leaving for another two hours until the woman looked out onto the road and told us to run to catch one that was leaving right now. We ran across the parking lot with our neon green shopping bags and just made it to the last bus. Then we broke out baguette and babybel cheese and feasted on the way there. Looking around the bus, we noticed that we were the only ones eating as well as the only ones under the age of 60.

Apparently we passed over some big bridge to get to the island, but I missed it because I was passed out on the bus. We got to the island and went to the tourism office for a map. It was completely useless. All we knew was that the bottle of sangria was heavy and we wanted a beach asap. We asked a few shop keepers where to find the beach and finally we found a woman who gave us a funny face and said 15 minutes down the street. We leave the building and there is a huge sign that reads "plage ->" We walk through a citadel from WWII and a few monument looking things from the 1800's (that's how you know you're in France), and found a rocky kind of beach with old fisherman and couples surrounding it. The beach itself was empty, so we went to town on the Doritos and Sangria and proceeded to pass out in the sun. Diana and I listened to Something Corporate songs and belted Konstantine while Theresa read Jane Eyre or something. This was a blissful afternoon I will never forget...mostly because I fell asleep with my hands on my stomach and I now have two white hand marks surrounded by somewhat painful burns, resembling the chest of Kocoum from Disney's Pocahontas. We loved that we had our own "private beach" and watched as the tide went down leaving beached boats in the rocky sand (which is apparently normal here?).

This left us just enough time to make it back to the bus while passing by donkeys in pants (anes en collants). This is an Ile de Re tradition which we were later told allowed women travelers to store things in the pants pockets. The best part are the donkey in pants stuffed animals available at any store in the vicinity. The bus ride was followed by showers and moules frites for dinner. We were so hungry by this point we were beginning to stare down other customers, which got pretty uncomfortable, but the mussels were so fresh there were crabs in some. Then came gelato- raspberry dark chocolate praline and coconut I believe- and a nice walk around the water. We saw a group of people crowded around a bar across the street and went over to see what was going on. There were three younger guys playing music, a singer, upright bass, and guitar. We guessed that they were in high school based on the fact that all of their young looking friends were there watching and the girl next to us in a furry cowboy hat was drunkenly dancing with an "18th birthday" balloon. They were really really good, so we stayed for a while to watch until we the birthday girl was getting to be too much so we went home.

Samedi: We grabbed pain au chocolat almondes (kind of like a French Paula Dean recipe of a pastry wrapped in pastry). We headed to the boat to go to Fort Boyard and Ile d'Aix. When we boarded the boat, the three of us chose to sit uncomfortably close, facing a French couple, and chowing down our disgustingly rich pastries- luckily the wind was blowing making our pastry crumbs soar through the air, which our new neighbors loved very much. One of the guys working on the boat asked if we wanted our picture taken and when he tried to hand the camera back to me, my dress flew up while my straps started to come down, making the whole exchange pretty awkward. We headed to the front of the boat and stood next to an older man taking pictures. I asked if he wanted a picture with the Fort (it's in the middle of the water, so the boat just circles it instead of docking), and he looked puzzled, politely declined, and then offered to take ours. He heard our American accents and started asking where we were from (of course complimenting our French skills) and told us that he was born and raised in La Rochelle. This began one of my favorite conversations I've had since coming to France. The man told us of how he used to go camping at Ile d'Aix and he still comes a few times a week to have picnics and see the island. He also told us about the forts and how even though Napoleon ordered the building of the forts, by the time they were finished the technology had become obsolete. My Ile d'Aix pamphlet said that it is only used for a t.v. show now. There was also a British couple with three adorable dogs. A man on a wheelchair nearby was sitting smiling at the dogs, and the owner picked up the big dog and brought him over so the man could pet it. We soon realized that this part of the boat was much better than our original spot up top with all the picture takers and fun haters. We docked at the island and headed to the market to pick up food for a picnic.

At the store we picked up sandwiches, nectarines, and grapes and found a bench to enjoy them on. After our little picnic, we started walking on the path around the island (the whole island isn't that big and only takes about 2 and a half hours to see the whole thing). On our way we saw cute little houses and gardens. We were also lucky enough to catch a very old man plowing his field in his speedo. We accidentally stumbled upon a tunnel museum about the soldiers at the forts on the island and then caught a view of the water. We finished our visit with fresh oysters by the water at a little farm. Diana and I split our very fresh oysters while the owner of the farm told us about how he harvests them. The oysters we had took 4 years to harvest, and he told us about how he has to move them around different parts of the island. He showed us his machinery used to move the oysters and brought us out 10 month old oysters so we could see how small they were. He spoke really fast, so I could barely understand him but Diana picked up everything he said. We also had some bread and wine, which Theresa had to reinforce with her hands so they wouldn't blow away. The oysters were amazing, and definitely the freshest seafood I've ever had. Then the man's young daughters came to hang out and started whispering about us. We were so blissfully happy about the oysters we couldn't have cared less about what the 7 year old girls were saying. At this point my skin couldn't take much more sun and I had to wear my sweater in the 80 degree heat. We walked back to the boat and enjoyed the windy hour ride back to La Rochelle.

We were starving but it was too early for dinner, so we decided to grab mint chocolate chip ice cream and go see the tower. The tower is where they kept English prisoners in some wars back in the day. The best part was the griffiti (or as the English translation descriptions said "graffito") that was made by the prisoners. It had pictures of boats and the names of prisoners with where they were captured. We climbed all the way to the top of the tower and got a great view of the city.

Then we grabbed brie and baguette to enjoy by the water. We wandered around for a while and saw some other areas of the town. We went back to our regular spot near the water and hung out for an hour or two just enjoying the view. That night we went for moules frites round 2, but this time we decided to get it with a curry sauce very well known in that area. We finished with creme caramel which was amazing since La Rochelle is known for it's caramel. The importance of the salt was another lesson we received during the weekend. Apparently salt is only found in 3 places in France, and La Rochelle is known for it. Therefore, the caramel made with that salt is famous and known for its ocean like flavor. We ended the night by watching our "friend" playing with fire by the water- we had discovered him the night before-but he wasn't very good. He kept dropping the torches and then he got one upped by a man juggling fire on a unicycle with a top hat.


Dimanche: Today was tough because finally our burns stopped hurting, but we had really explored everything in La Rochelle except the beach. We checked out the hotel and decided to suck it up and go to the water. It was super windy this morning, so the sand was blowing everywhere- a little flashback from the Dust Bowl or something similar. I decided to go in the water (so now I can say that I've been in both sides of the Atlantic) which was freezing but felt really nice after numbing my body to the cold. I finished the Italy part of my book "Eat, Pray, Love" and decided that I wasn't in the mood to read about her religious experiences in India and preferred her food finds in Rome.

We went to lunch in the late afternoon to escape the hottest part of the day, and Diana and I enjoyed grilled calamari. Our waitress was really rude, so we followed lunch with our last ice cream of the day- mint strawberry sorbet and caramel chocolate ice cream. The sorbet had pieces of fresh mint in it and was easily the best sorbet EVER. Then we found some rocks to lay on and watched these dogs play with each other by the water. Two of the dogs wrestled while the other one searched for sticks and rocks to show his friends. At one point, he picked up a huge rock in his mouth and looked so excited to show his owners, who were too busy drinking and smoking joints I think to notice. We watched them for a while and then realized it had gotten pretty late already. We headed back to the hotel, turned in our sandy towels that we snuck to the beach, and picked up our bags.

Overall, a very successful beach week. I showered immediately after returning to my apartment but I'm pretty sure it will take a few more to get all of the sand out of my hair. The fact that we were able to go to a place as beautiful as La Rochelle with 2 hours of preparation makes us a little sad to be going back home in a few weeks. I'm not quite ready to give this all up!

Felicia No Capiche: Italy Part 2, Rome

Day 1: The Colosseum, Forum, and Trevi Fountain

We started Rome with Barcardi Breezers, peach tea, and pizza sandwiches. The mediocre food was masked by the view of ancient ruins in the middle of the city of Rome. All through lunch a man selling parasols repeatedly interrupted our conversations to see if we would like to buy one, and we decided it was time to head to the Colosseum.

We were convinced to take a tour by a young American guy standing by the entrance line (his perfect hair and suave mannerisms having no impact on our decision to expand our educational horizons). It turned out to be a great decision because we got to skip the incredibly long line of Asian tourists and actually learned about what went on in the Colosseum. Our guide was hilarious and he told us all about where they kept the lions and how gladiator fights worked. I had no idea how much funding was needed for these fights. Animals were shipped across the world to please the crowds costing the emperors millions and millions of dollars. We also learned that most fights did not end in death except for one fighter who rigged most of the fights and ended up killing his opponents (meaning animals or other gladiators). Some fights were declared fight to the death matches or others offered terms of surrender (but only if the emperor was in a good mood that day). Our guide was also kind enough to tell us what was wrong in the movie "Gladiator" but unfortunately I never saw it. That will be number one on my list of things to watch this summer.

After walking around the Colosseum and seeing actual armor from fights long ago (I'm keeping the dates vague to create a feeling of mystery..and because I don't remember when the armor was from), it was time for our second tour of the Forum which is the center of development of the city of Rome. Our second tour guide had a very thick British accent and talked incredibly slowly, like he was narrating a PBS special for two year olds. It was a cross between crocodile dundee and Ben Stein...hard to explain I guess. I don't remember much from the forum tour because I couldn't really wrap my head around how old everything was, but our guide told us the story of the beginnings of Rome and Romulus and Remus. He said that most of the mountain has still not be excavated because all of the ruins lie beneath the ground. He also told us about the beautiful painted marble found at the site (conveniently borrowed by a small place called the Vatican), leaving not much left at the Forum. It then began pouring rain, so we continued the tour soaking wet. The rain stopped quickly and we got to see a double rainbow over the ruins of Rome. It was pretty unreal. Our guide then showed us where the kingdom's oldest temples were located and the first building of commerce. There were more ancient ruins that he explained but we all got a little distracted by this little baby on the tour who kept giggling every time we looked at him. His mother didn't like this and put down the hood of the stroller so he couldn't see us anymore. We tried to see the building where Caesar's ashes are kept, but it started closing before we could get in.

Now remember, we're still in Italy, and this day is missing something very important that has been a crucial part of our experiences in other Italian cities, gelato. We stopped for some on our way to the Trevi fountain, and for the first time were very disappointed. Our flavors were mediocre and the woman at the cash register was extremely rude. We downed it quick so we wouldn't have to think about it, and then made our way to the fountain.



Now I thought that the Paris metro was good for people watching, but the Trevi Fountain blew it out of the water (pun intended). There were European girls climbing on the fountain to pose for pictures and loud Americans with Frommers guide books EVERYWHERE. We threw in pennies and made our wish. Gulfem and I then proceeded to act like 5 year olds and fight with water. We then decided to sit and relax for a while and just enjoy the view. We came at the perfect time of day because as the sun went down we got to see the fountain light up.

We decided to go grab dinner and I suggested we try to wander a little bit so we could find a place less touristy. As we walked down some side streets, I stopped in to what looked like a bookstore to ask if there was a good restaurant near by. The woman replied "well we are a good restaurant, but we're closing." Oops. She continued in broken English, "There is a good restaurant near here. Go straight, then you will see steps, always keep right, there is a good view." By some stroke of luck, and a few trips down the wrong steps into dark alleys, we found what looked to be a beautiful view and a restaurant called Melo with flashing lights. The place looked packed, so I took this as a good sign and asked for a table. They squeezed us into the restaurant, and we immediately knew that this place was a winner.

We started with the best bruschetta I have ever eaten, and if it was culturally acceptable to lick the plate, I would have done it. One of the waiters came to our table with a guitar and sang us a song in English called "Felicia No Capiche." He was hilarious and we spent the rest of the night humming the tune. We ate some okay pasta, and then Diana and I found the holy grail of desserts. We split a cannoli and the restaurant owner, a cute old Italian man in a black vest, offered to cut it in half. As he cut it he shook his head and moaned "my beautiful cannoli" and you could see that it pained him to cut his perfectly crafted shell. Then our waiter told us about how he was learning to speak English and we complimented him on his language skills. After the check, he brought us out shots of lemon cello and Theresa and Kendall almost took it like a shot. The waiter yelled, "No Tequila Boom Boom" and told them to sip the liquor. While the others paid their check, our waiter took my hands and pulled me out of my chair to teach me traditional Italian dances. All of dinner we had heard a loud group of people clapping and singing behind a wall in the other part of the restaurant. He danced with me to the other side and much to my surprise, the noisemakers were all 80 year old Italian men with endless bottles of wine. Our English speaking waiter and very non-English speaking owner begged us to come back the next night to see them.

We went straight back to the hostel for the night to pass out in preparation for our 8am wake up call to see the Vatican. When we got back to the room, the empty bed was filled with a guy covered in tattoos and piercings with long dreadlocks. I was surprised at first, but after a few minutes I found out that he was a French tattoo artist with great music taste. We exchanged some bands and ended up giving me a sketch of a music tattoo to keep.

Day 2: The Vatican, Pantheon, and Spanish Steps

We woke up at the crack of dawn, grabbed pastries, and ran to the Vatican Museum to make it to our reservation time. There is no way to describe the amount of things that are in the Vatican museum. Of course the Sistine Chapel is one of the most famous parts of the museum. Michelangelo's "The Last Judgment" actually interrupts the wall's chronological portraits of the bible, leaving out stories of Mary and the coming of Jesus. The nudity of the painting was also very controversial at the time. The Pope's Master of Ceremonies Biagio da Cesena complained to the pope of the nudity and called the artwork a disgrace. Michelangelo then painted Cesena into the portrait as the judge of the underworld. Michelangelo was also beginning to become frustrated with his waning skill in painting and this can be seen in the morbidity of this work. The ceiling was once a starry sky but was commissioned to be painted over because it did not live up to the beautiful art already painted on the walls. The two back windows were actually filled in to make for more room for paintings (These fun facts brought to you by the audio guide I insisted on renting by myself). The only problem with the Chapel is that it is packed shoulder to shoulder and everyone disregards the rules for no talking or photography. This leads to bright lights flashing everywhere and annoying high school tour groups running around and yelling. Despite these issues, I was still able to enjoy the pure beauty of the paintings. The paintings are simply breathtaking. We also walked through other rooms of the museum including the hall of maps and tapestries. After seeing Raphael's self portrait in Florence, I was able to spot him in one room as he painted himself into his work. He was depicted along famous scientists, philosophers, and poets of the time.

Next we went to see the Vatican and I was shocked to see that this was also a burial site for popes inside the church. Theresa, our informed catholic, taught us that each pope has his own symbol, and we spent a long time looking at the memorials on the ground and the beautiful wall sculptures. By this time we were starving so we went to Piazza Navona to grab lunch. Everything was super touristy and overpriced, so Diana and I decided to share a caprese salad and pizza. The mozzarella was unreal, and we got to watch as tourists took pictures with human statues.

After lunch came possibly the best gelato of my life. It was this cute little shop in a brick alley with flowers around it. We walked in and a very sweet man from Peru let us try all of the flavors. It must have taken us 30 minutes to figure out what we wanted, but I ended up getting white chocolate, dark chocolate and wine, and mille foglie (some type of italian pastry). Then we saw the same baby from the Forum (the one with the mean parents who wouldn't let us make googly faces at him). The parents looked seriously concerned at this point that we were stalking their child.




Then we headed to the Pantheon and saw the hole in the ceiling and the drain in the center for the rain. There was a famous Madonna and Child portrait covered in a gold cover plate. I think Theresa told us something interesting about it, but I don't really remember. What I do remember is seeing the same baby AGAIN.



At this point we just had to leave because it was getting a little creepy. Then we headed to a paper store down the street. The man gave us a demonstration on how they make paper and how he uses the traditional techniques of his family in Florence. Theresa and Gulfem bought letter seals (like the initial thing with wax), and I almost got one until I realized that I haven't written a single letter or postcard since arriving in Europe.



After that we stumbled upon a leather shop. The store looked like a workshop and there were purses covering the ceiling and walls. One woman with crazy hair was smoking a cigarette behind stacks of leather, and I ended up finding a beautiful brown leather satchel and a rose leather keychain.



By that point it was almost sunset, so we rushed over to the Spanish steps. We climbed to the top and bought Peronis to drink while we enjoyed the view. We spent most of the time being harassed by men selling sunglasses and hemp bracelets. Finally, I told them that we really weren’t going to buy anything and that they should go away. The guy looked outraged and finally left us alone. Then we were free to enjoy the view of Rome at sunset.



We stopped for dinner one last time before heading to the hostel. We got really cheesy gnocchi and stopped at a bakery for late night cannoli before passing out at the hostel. Our French friend was asleep at that point and smelled horrible. Luckily we were so tired, it didn’t really matter. The next morning we said our goodbyes to Rome and headed it Istanbul!