Thursday, July 14, 2011
Paris Day 1
I suppose it's time to talk about my marvelous week spent in Paris before taking the train down to Grenoble.
Day 1: I took the Thalys train from Brussels and arrived in Paris on Friday June 24th. The train arrived at Gare du Nord, which I planned most excellently since I was to be staying the night with my old host family who live just five minutes walking from the station. Clutch. I stepped out of the train station and the sights and smells of Rue Dunkerque were exactly as I had remembered them being three years earlier. I grabbed my luggage and headed back to my old apartment. No map required. I remembered exactly where to go. I got to my old building and rang the buzzer for the Foucault apartment. My host mom, Patricia, answered most coyly "Ouiiiii?" "Coucou, c'est Alex!" "Bonjour Alex!" and she buzzed me in. Reaching the 6th floor of the building, Patricia was waiting outside the door for me and immediately kissed me on both cheeks and asked me if I was hungry. Yes, famished. I dropped off my bags in my room and went to the kitchen where my host mom of 4 months proceeded to make me lunch like she had done so many times in 2008. It was truly a great homecoming. We caught each other up on everything. Since I had left 2 of her 4 kids had gotten married and they had finished working on their home in Bretagne (Brittany). After lunch she had to go run errands and I immediately was itching to go explore some of my old favorite spots.
I went to the metro station to buy some tickets for the week and upon purchasing them with my American card at the ticket window, the vendor commented on how cute my card with the ladybug on it was and how she wanted one with Hello Kitty. It's the little inconsequential conversations such as these that make me love Parisians (most of the time). I decided to go to my favorite area in Paris, the Latin Quarter, which is halfway touristic halfway not, to go to my favorite cafe, Cafe Malongo on Rue St. Andre des Arts, to go to Orange (like Verizon or AT&T) to add money to my French phone, and to get ice cream. After adding money to my phone, grabbing a coffee and wandering, I crossed over the Seine to Ile-St-Louis where I got Berthillon ice cream. With my delectable pistachio ice cream in hand, iPod on and blasting some great tunes, I walked down the stairs to the edge of the Seine where I sat and basked in the sun in pure and simple bliss for half an hour surrounded of course by multiple young couples making out. Salut, Paris, it's damn good to be back.
After my lovely afternoon, I headed back to the apartment where I did laundry. Hallelujah! And ate dinner with my host mom which we then followed up with some movie watching in the living room. It was the perfect first day back in Paris and the indicator of the perfect week that was to follow.
Day 1: I took the Thalys train from Brussels and arrived in Paris on Friday June 24th. The train arrived at Gare du Nord, which I planned most excellently since I was to be staying the night with my old host family who live just five minutes walking from the station. Clutch. I stepped out of the train station and the sights and smells of Rue Dunkerque were exactly as I had remembered them being three years earlier. I grabbed my luggage and headed back to my old apartment. No map required. I remembered exactly where to go. I got to my old building and rang the buzzer for the Foucault apartment. My host mom, Patricia, answered most coyly "Ouiiiii?" "Coucou, c'est Alex!" "Bonjour Alex!" and she buzzed me in. Reaching the 6th floor of the building, Patricia was waiting outside the door for me and immediately kissed me on both cheeks and asked me if I was hungry. Yes, famished. I dropped off my bags in my room and went to the kitchen where my host mom of 4 months proceeded to make me lunch like she had done so many times in 2008. It was truly a great homecoming. We caught each other up on everything. Since I had left 2 of her 4 kids had gotten married and they had finished working on their home in Bretagne (Brittany). After lunch she had to go run errands and I immediately was itching to go explore some of my old favorite spots.
I went to the metro station to buy some tickets for the week and upon purchasing them with my American card at the ticket window, the vendor commented on how cute my card with the ladybug on it was and how she wanted one with Hello Kitty. It's the little inconsequential conversations such as these that make me love Parisians (most of the time). I decided to go to my favorite area in Paris, the Latin Quarter, which is halfway touristic halfway not, to go to my favorite cafe, Cafe Malongo on Rue St. Andre des Arts, to go to Orange (like Verizon or AT&T) to add money to my French phone, and to get ice cream. After adding money to my phone, grabbing a coffee and wandering, I crossed over the Seine to Ile-St-Louis where I got Berthillon ice cream. With my delectable pistachio ice cream in hand, iPod on and blasting some great tunes, I walked down the stairs to the edge of the Seine where I sat and basked in the sun in pure and simple bliss for half an hour surrounded of course by multiple young couples making out. Salut, Paris, it's damn good to be back.
After my lovely afternoon, I headed back to the apartment where I did laundry. Hallelujah! And ate dinner with my host mom which we then followed up with some movie watching in the living room. It was the perfect first day back in Paris and the indicator of the perfect week that was to follow.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Paris: Musée Rodin
After Belgium, I took a train to Paris where I spent a glorious week revisiting my second favorite city in the world. One of the highlights of the trip was the Musée Rodin (Rodin Museum). Having taken 2+ years of art history classes during high school and college each of which touched upon the astounding beauty of the pieces at the Musée Rodin, I had always wanted to visit it. When I was studying in Paris 3 years ago I didn't get the chance to go and so this time I was adamant about visiting. In short, it did not disappoint. Below are some of my favorite pieces from the museum.
Beautiful garden area with a view of Les Invalides (gold-domed building on left) and La Tour Eiffel (right)
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Belgium: Brussels & Bruges
After a brief and lackluster trip to Seville, I hopped on one last airplane to Belgium where I spent three days split between Brussels and Bruges. My plane landed in Brussels in the late evening, I took a shuttle from the airport to the city center, checked into my hostel and went to sleep as the next day would be spent touring Brussels for a few hours before boarding a train to Bruges.
The following morning I awoke happy for a number of reasons: 1. Free coffee in the hotel 2. It was 60 degrees and overcast outside 3. In Brussels, French is one of the primary languages spoken. After spending 4 weeks in countries whose language I did not speak more than at a basic conversational level (e.g. hello, thank you, goodbye), I was thrilled to be able to really communicate with people. Also, as most of you know I am a cold-weather person and so after spending two blisteringly hot days in Seville, the 40 degree temperature drop made me more than content. I'm sure the people in Brussels must've thought I was crazy walking around with a big grin on my face due to the cool gray weather. As it started to rain (SHWING!), I decided that there was nothing more that I wanted than to find a quiet cafe where I could grab a cup of coffee and sit down to write. To my great pleasure, I found an adorable cafe specializing in bagels run by two middle aged women. I sat inside for about an hour drinking great coffee, eating a toasted bagel with cream cheese, writing in my journal and listening to the women gab in French. Needless to say, I was thoroughly content with life that morning. After my coffee break, I wandered the streets of Brussels for a bit stopping at numerous sites (e.g. churches, fountains, etc) before deciding I was getting too wet to wander the streets sans umbrella. Luckily, I ran smack dab into an H&M, went inside and proceeded to go on my first shopping "spree" (a dress, 2 tops on sale, and a pair of earrings). I then went back to the hostel, grabbed my belongings and headed to the train station where I got on a train to Bruges.
Although the train ride from Brussels to Bruges is only a little over an hour, upon arrival in the city you feel as though you are in a totally different country. Long gone is the comforting feeling of understanding the language around you as French is no longer the language spoken in the city, but Flemish, rather. I got off the train, figured out the bus I had to take to the hostel, got to and checked in at the Snuffel Backpacker hostel. Save for the language barrier, I immediately felt good vibes upon arriving in Bruges. As you wander around the city it feels like you are in a perpetual postcard, because it is just that damn beautiful. You are surrounded by canals, beautiful architecture, churches, parks covered in trees, and people on bicycles. Aside from its visual beauty, Bruges also always sounds beautiful due to the sound of the wind on the canals, people ringing bells on their bikes, and the church bells seem to constantly be tolling. If you've seen the movie In Bruges, which you absolutely should because it's great, Bruges really is a f***ing fairytale city.
Later that evening I took the train back to Brussels where I spent the evening before departing for Paris the next morning.
The following morning I awoke happy for a number of reasons: 1. Free coffee in the hotel 2. It was 60 degrees and overcast outside 3. In Brussels, French is one of the primary languages spoken. After spending 4 weeks in countries whose language I did not speak more than at a basic conversational level (e.g. hello, thank you, goodbye), I was thrilled to be able to really communicate with people. Also, as most of you know I am a cold-weather person and so after spending two blisteringly hot days in Seville, the 40 degree temperature drop made me more than content. I'm sure the people in Brussels must've thought I was crazy walking around with a big grin on my face due to the cool gray weather. As it started to rain (SHWING!), I decided that there was nothing more that I wanted than to find a quiet cafe where I could grab a cup of coffee and sit down to write. To my great pleasure, I found an adorable cafe specializing in bagels run by two middle aged women. I sat inside for about an hour drinking great coffee, eating a toasted bagel with cream cheese, writing in my journal and listening to the women gab in French. Needless to say, I was thoroughly content with life that morning. After my coffee break, I wandered the streets of Brussels for a bit stopping at numerous sites (e.g. churches, fountains, etc) before deciding I was getting too wet to wander the streets sans umbrella. Luckily, I ran smack dab into an H&M, went inside and proceeded to go on my first shopping "spree" (a dress, 2 tops on sale, and a pair of earrings). I then went back to the hostel, grabbed my belongings and headed to the train station where I got on a train to Bruges.
Although the train ride from Brussels to Bruges is only a little over an hour, upon arrival in the city you feel as though you are in a totally different country. Long gone is the comforting feeling of understanding the language around you as French is no longer the language spoken in the city, but Flemish, rather. I got off the train, figured out the bus I had to take to the hostel, got to and checked in at the Snuffel Backpacker hostel. Save for the language barrier, I immediately felt good vibes upon arriving in Bruges. As you wander around the city it feels like you are in a perpetual postcard, because it is just that damn beautiful. You are surrounded by canals, beautiful architecture, churches, parks covered in trees, and people on bicycles. Aside from its visual beauty, Bruges also always sounds beautiful due to the sound of the wind on the canals, people ringing bells on their bikes, and the church bells seem to constantly be tolling. If you've seen the movie In Bruges, which you absolutely should because it's great, Bruges really is a f***ing fairytale city.
Later that evening I took the train back to Brussels where I spent the evening before departing for Paris the next morning.
The Belfry
Canals everywhere
Location of the scene in In Bruges where they are filming the movie
Cool building
Beautiful park where Colin Farrell almost does something to himself (won't spoil it!)
Gazebo where lots of locals gather to spend time
Marketplace
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Seville, Spain
After Venice I flew to Seville to spend 2 short days in Spain. At this point I had been traveling for 4 weeks having never stopped to take a day off. To take a day off seemed a waste of time and I hadn't saved up all my money and lived like a monk for 10 months just to sit in a hostel all day. However, upon arriving in Seville and being greeted by 110 degree temperature I couldn't help but feel a little lethargic. My first day in Seville I met a very nice German girl named Liesel who was also traveling on her own and we hit it off. After a few hours in the city, Liesel and I walked down the street from our hostel to a tapas restaurant and I got some much needed food. Later that evening Liesel and I went to the rooftop terrace of our hostel, drank a couple of beers and relaxed.
The following day my mind awoke ready to go on a walking tour of Seville. However, my body had another thing in mind: relaxation. So, for the first time on my trip I took a day off from travel. After going to the nearby supermarket and stocking up on lunch of bread, cheese, salchichon, tomatoes, apples, and beer I returned to the hostel's rooftop terrace along with my copy of Madame Bovary and proceeded to spend the day eating, reading, and tanning in the hostel's jacuzzi (best hostel ever). While half of me said to myself, "Wow you're a jerk for spending the day in this gorgeous city in the hostel", the other half said, "Shut your face". Self-intimidation, works every time! That evening Liesel and I did, however, go to a really cool restaurant situated on the Guadalquivir River where we played cards and drank cheap beers while looking upon the Cathedral. It wasn't a wasted day after all!
The next day my flight left for Brussels in the early evening so I decided to do a little sightseeing before going to the airport. And by sightseeing I mean of course that I walked aimlessly around the streets and ducked into every air conditioned clothing store possible to beat the oppressive heat.
I'm sorry, Seville, it's not you it's me.
The following day my mind awoke ready to go on a walking tour of Seville. However, my body had another thing in mind: relaxation. So, for the first time on my trip I took a day off from travel. After going to the nearby supermarket and stocking up on lunch of bread, cheese, salchichon, tomatoes, apples, and beer I returned to the hostel's rooftop terrace along with my copy of Madame Bovary and proceeded to spend the day eating, reading, and tanning in the hostel's jacuzzi (best hostel ever). While half of me said to myself, "Wow you're a jerk for spending the day in this gorgeous city in the hostel", the other half said, "Shut your face". Self-intimidation, works every time! That evening Liesel and I did, however, go to a really cool restaurant situated on the Guadalquivir River where we played cards and drank cheap beers while looking upon the Cathedral. It wasn't a wasted day after all!
The next day my flight left for Brussels in the early evening so I decided to do a little sightseeing before going to the airport. And by sightseeing I mean of course that I walked aimlessly around the streets and ducked into every air conditioned clothing store possible to beat the oppressive heat.
I'm sorry, Seville, it's not you it's me.
The Cathedral at dusk
Restaurant where Liesel and I got drinks
View of the Cathedral after the sun set
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Venice, Italy
Thursday evening Stéphane took the train to Venice, because it was cheaper than the one that I had reserved for the following morning. Friday morning I took a 2-hour Trenitalia AV (high speed) train ride from Florence to Venice. As I walked out of the train station looking at my directions to my hostel I was immediately confronted with water. Lots of water. No roads and lots of water. Did I mention there was water right outside of the station? Because there was. As I followed the directions and took a water bus to my hostel a strange feeling came over me. Throughout the years you occasionally hear the phrase "Venice is sinking", and although you understand the concept, you can't really process the meaning of it until you're riding a water bus along the canals of Venice. The city feels like it was affected by a huge flood and instead of being swept out to sea immediately, it fought against the current, but it is ever-so-slowly succumbing to the flood.
As I got off the water bus and began to make my way to my hostel on land, it started downpouring rain. We get it, Venice, you have water EVERYWHERE, there is no need to form a not-so-secret alliance with the rain just to get your point across. I reached my hostel under the torrential downpour, checked in to the adorable Residenza Maddalena and waited for Stéphane to meet me in front of my place. After trying to find internet all around the area to no avail, Stéphane and his two Italian friends and I made our way around the city. By the time the rain had stopped we had made it to the Piazza San Marco, where we made a picnic for Stéphane's friend, Camilla's birthday, by the water. It was certainly an international picnic as I don't speak any Italian, Camilla and her boyfriend Lorenzo don't speak French, but Camilla and I both speak conversational Russian, Stéphane speaks French, Italian, and English, and Lorenzo speaks Italian and English. Despite the various language barriers we had a good time hanging out by the water and looking on at Piazza San Marco.
After a few hours Camilla and Lorenzo had to take the train back to their town and so Stéphane and I decided to do some more sightseeing before getting dinner. We got dinner and drinks at a cheap restaurant that Lorenzo had recommended in a less touristic part of town (of which there are few) and then walked around some more. Later that evening we were tired of walking and found a cute square, split a bottle of wine and listened to music. So romantic and cliche, but hey it's Venice, right?
The next day we wanted to go to the beach, and so after figuring out how to get to Lido, one of the Venetian islands, we took a water bus, got some food and beer at the supermarket for a picnic and walked over to Blue Moon Public Beach. Although I have been in Europe for four weeks this was my first time on the trip going to the beach. It was so nice just to sunbathe, eat, drink, listen to music and play in the water. The California girl in me definitely came out. The Northern California one who gets in the water for 10 minutes and naps the rest of the time, not the Katy Perry one who wears high heels to the beach. After the beach we took the water bus back to the main Venetian island where we visited a pretty church then hung outside for a few hours before Stéphane had to catch a train to Bologna that evening.
All in all I loved my nine days spent in Italy. I got to see a little bit of everything, big city life in Rome, picaresque buildings and scenery in Florence, and small, romantic, touristy Venice. I will definitely be going back to Italy someday.
After Venice, I flew to Seville, Spain where I spent just a couple ridiculously hot days mostly relaxing and recuperating from four weeks of non-stop traveling.
Gondolas
Typical square in Venice
Canal
In Piazza San Marco with St. Mark's Basilica
The front of St. Mark's Basilica
On Lido at Blue Moon Beach
On our way back to the main island
Santa Margherita Church
Monday, June 20, 2011
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