(no subject)
There have been a few moments in my life that have caused me to just wonder What did I do to deserve this?
As I stood captivated in front of the Venus di Milo in the Louvre, that was one of those moments.
It is hardly an understatement for me to say that I've always dreamed of going to France. Ever since the first day of French class in seventh grade, I knew I was hooked. I loved the fact that Paris was (is) the heart of fashion world; that people clustered in tiny bistros with their cafe au laits and cigarettes going on and on about politics or the weather; that a good meal takes roughly an hour while everyone laughs and leisurely enjoys their red wine.
It would take me forever to go into the tiny, minute details about the trip; I'm going to try to give a bare bones account but with a little extra meat so that I can some back and remember exactly how it all felt at the exact moment it happened.
Saturday, we flew out to Paris and arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport about 9:45 am. From de Gaulle, we took a four hour train ride to Grenoble, which is where my sister Chelsea is studying abroad. We settled into our hotel and Chelsea made it to the hotel room about 8:00 pm that night. Now, in France, they time is exactly seven hours ahead of Central time, so by dinner, I was dragging really badly. My internal clock was completely and utterly confused. (It never did straighten out, by the way. Still hasn't.) We went to a cafe a few blocks away from the hotel, where split a meal with Chelsea and had some AMAZING creme brulee. All the little custard cups were on fire when they were placed on our table, and you know that didn't last on the table long. The entire time we were there, dogs wandered in and out of the restaurant. Dogs are practically as accepted as humans in France- no one pays them much mind and they pretty much come and go as they please.
The next day, we got up and my cousin and I attended university with Chelsea. It was absolutely breathtaking- outside of my windows at home, you don't see much that makes your jaw drop. However, when you look out the window in Chelsea's classroom, the Alps are practically sitting in your lap. This is where the famouns water closet story comes in (but I'll save that for another time). After we hopped the bus back to the hotel, we grabbed sandwiches at a shop close to the hotel and I HAD to take a nap. That night we were going to meet Chelsea's host family. Chels went over a few unofficial rules of eating in a French household:
1. Eat everything that is on your plate. Choke it down if you hate it. But there isn't much that offends a person more than if you don't eat what's on your plate.
2. You are going to be offered seconds and thirds on every course. It'd be beneficial to take advantage of that.
If you want bonus points, sop up everything that is left on your plate with a piece of bread.
They'll have the adoption papers out by then.
Isabel, Chel's host mom, made a wonderful dinner. Since my cousin in vegetarian, they left out any traces of meat. First course: egg salad with some unidentifiable topping; second, salad (which consisted of large pieces of fresh lettuce tossed with a balsamic vinegar dressing); third, potatoes au gratin (made with local cheeses); fourth, a DELECIOUS chees tray with homemade bread; fifth, a cheesecake-type dessert that included a nut famous in Grenoble. The cake also had a slightly mocha/coffee taste to it. To die for.
I think I ate my body weight in food that night.
Tuesday, we left for Paris. Back on a train. We settled into our second hotel that afternoon. It was in an old building just outside the major downtown district. Sidenote: The way Europeans drive makes me want to poke my eyes out. I seriously started to get panicky being in the taxis. Mopeds are whizzing through traffic at break-neck speeds and you should see these cars called SmartCars that they bum around town in. Can we day rollerskate?!
That evening, we made it up to the Eiffel Tower after a delecious dinner (you'll see the word delecious a lot) of pizza. Now, as I get older, I find that I tend to feel more claustrophbic and that I can't deal with heights very well. So, how do you think that the Eiffel tower trip turned out?
Let me explain.
At the base are the four legs. When you get in line at the tower, you either go through the East or West entrance. Everyone crowds into two elevators that take you about a third of the way up. You're crammed in there like a sardine, and then you notice that.... the elevator is going up hundreds of feet sideways. I know my uncle was trying to help me since he noticed I was uneasy; however, if you ask me a hundred times if I'm okay, chances are, I'M NOT.
Anywho.
I make it to the second elevator, which is basically where the two elevators full of people all come together to go straight up to the top. You are then let out onto an observatory deck where there are several different windows allowing you a panoramic view of the city. Then, there's a staircase that allows you to go up to the very, VERY top. I bet you know what I did. If you guessed marched up the stairs, took one look, then marched right back down, you'd be right.
The next day was record-making. We made it to the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, the Rodin Museum (I got a couple of good shots of The Thinker), Napoleon's shrine (part of the Military Museum), and the Louvre (I know that I'm forgetting someting). I want to go back just so I can hang out at the Louvre for an entire week. I stood in awe around the Mona Lisa and took shots of Winged Victory. It was simply stunning. By the end of this day, I was rocking some blisters and a really bad cramp in my left foot from all the walking. I also tasted my first Nutella and banana crepe that day. ::drool::
Thursday, we headed out to meet our shopping tour guide, Heather (www.secretsofparis.com). She was a great tour guide- we searched through vintage shops, went through some brilliant art galleries, went poking around at Le Bon Marche for a prom dress for India. Dinner that night was my favorite- I can't remember exactly what they did to the chicken, but it was delectable. I had some red wine that night and slept like a baby- which unfortunately meant that I missed the cabaret show we were going to attend.
Friday was Amelie day- or, in our case, a trip through the section of Paris called Montmartre. I LOVED it. It's a bit more the seedier part of town. We peeked around the Moulin Rouge, then promptly made our way to Sacre Couer- it was stunning. We wound our way through there and checked out a few of the cheesier touristy shops. We saw the coffee shop where Amelie was filmed. (Note: You may be wondering if we took a taxi everywhere that wasn't exactly down the street- to the contrary. We used the subway SEVERAL times a day. I think riding the Metro here in Houston prepared me for the smelly people, the screechy would-be prophets and the kindergarten-age pickpockets.) That evening, we had our last dinner at L'Aubergine which is a restuarant located close to the hotel. Some of the employees there remembered my aunt, uncle and cousin so we got a bit of a hookup. I tried my first White Russian and swilled more wine. Lovelovelove.
Saturday, we left Paris after another stomach-turning ride to de Gaulle while Chels took the train back to Grenoble. I ached to come home, but I also felt like I left a chunk of my heart there in Paris. NONE of the stereotypes were true in my experience as far as the French go: everyone was really nice and helpful. I think that if you approach a new place with a little understanding and respect for their culture, you'll be rewarded. I speak enough French to have a simple conversation, and I was amazed with all that flooded back to me after some practice. I saw some of the demonstrations going on while we were there; I saw the police in riot gear Thursday, but I honestly never felt that my safety was compromised. And did I mention that the warmest it got while we were there was about 50 degrees?!?
Okay, I think that's enough for now. I need to go to bed since I am doing some more overtime this week. If you made it though this... I feel loved! ;o) I picked up some cheeses and baguettes from Whole Foods to try to a least keep a little of the memory alive, and so far, it seems to be working somewhat. I think I will try to plan a semi-fancy cheese and wine party sometime this summer.
Okay, I'm about to pass out. I'm sure as the days pass, I'll have even more to tell and pictures to show.
As I stood captivated in front of the Venus di Milo in the Louvre, that was one of those moments.
It is hardly an understatement for me to say that I've always dreamed of going to France. Ever since the first day of French class in seventh grade, I knew I was hooked. I loved the fact that Paris was (is) the heart of fashion world; that people clustered in tiny bistros with their cafe au laits and cigarettes going on and on about politics or the weather; that a good meal takes roughly an hour while everyone laughs and leisurely enjoys their red wine.
It would take me forever to go into the tiny, minute details about the trip; I'm going to try to give a bare bones account but with a little extra meat so that I can some back and remember exactly how it all felt at the exact moment it happened.
Saturday, we flew out to Paris and arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport about 9:45 am. From de Gaulle, we took a four hour train ride to Grenoble, which is where my sister Chelsea is studying abroad. We settled into our hotel and Chelsea made it to the hotel room about 8:00 pm that night. Now, in France, they time is exactly seven hours ahead of Central time, so by dinner, I was dragging really badly. My internal clock was completely and utterly confused. (It never did straighten out, by the way. Still hasn't.) We went to a cafe a few blocks away from the hotel, where split a meal with Chelsea and had some AMAZING creme brulee. All the little custard cups were on fire when they were placed on our table, and you know that didn't last on the table long. The entire time we were there, dogs wandered in and out of the restaurant. Dogs are practically as accepted as humans in France- no one pays them much mind and they pretty much come and go as they please.
The next day, we got up and my cousin and I attended university with Chelsea. It was absolutely breathtaking- outside of my windows at home, you don't see much that makes your jaw drop. However, when you look out the window in Chelsea's classroom, the Alps are practically sitting in your lap. This is where the famouns water closet story comes in (but I'll save that for another time). After we hopped the bus back to the hotel, we grabbed sandwiches at a shop close to the hotel and I HAD to take a nap. That night we were going to meet Chelsea's host family. Chels went over a few unofficial rules of eating in a French household:
1. Eat everything that is on your plate. Choke it down if you hate it. But there isn't much that offends a person more than if you don't eat what's on your plate.
2. You are going to be offered seconds and thirds on every course. It'd be beneficial to take advantage of that.
If you want bonus points, sop up everything that is left on your plate with a piece of bread.
They'll have the adoption papers out by then.
Isabel, Chel's host mom, made a wonderful dinner. Since my cousin in vegetarian, they left out any traces of meat. First course: egg salad with some unidentifiable topping; second, salad (which consisted of large pieces of fresh lettuce tossed with a balsamic vinegar dressing); third, potatoes au gratin (made with local cheeses); fourth, a DELECIOUS chees tray with homemade bread; fifth, a cheesecake-type dessert that included a nut famous in Grenoble. The cake also had a slightly mocha/coffee taste to it. To die for.
I think I ate my body weight in food that night.
Tuesday, we left for Paris. Back on a train. We settled into our second hotel that afternoon. It was in an old building just outside the major downtown district. Sidenote: The way Europeans drive makes me want to poke my eyes out. I seriously started to get panicky being in the taxis. Mopeds are whizzing through traffic at break-neck speeds and you should see these cars called SmartCars that they bum around town in. Can we day rollerskate?!
That evening, we made it up to the Eiffel Tower after a delecious dinner (you'll see the word delecious a lot) of pizza. Now, as I get older, I find that I tend to feel more claustrophbic and that I can't deal with heights very well. So, how do you think that the Eiffel tower trip turned out?
Let me explain.
At the base are the four legs. When you get in line at the tower, you either go through the East or West entrance. Everyone crowds into two elevators that take you about a third of the way up. You're crammed in there like a sardine, and then you notice that.... the elevator is going up hundreds of feet sideways. I know my uncle was trying to help me since he noticed I was uneasy; however, if you ask me a hundred times if I'm okay, chances are, I'M NOT.
Anywho.
I make it to the second elevator, which is basically where the two elevators full of people all come together to go straight up to the top. You are then let out onto an observatory deck where there are several different windows allowing you a panoramic view of the city. Then, there's a staircase that allows you to go up to the very, VERY top. I bet you know what I did. If you guessed marched up the stairs, took one look, then marched right back down, you'd be right.
The next day was record-making. We made it to the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, the Rodin Museum (I got a couple of good shots of The Thinker), Napoleon's shrine (part of the Military Museum), and the Louvre (I know that I'm forgetting someting). I want to go back just so I can hang out at the Louvre for an entire week. I stood in awe around the Mona Lisa and took shots of Winged Victory. It was simply stunning. By the end of this day, I was rocking some blisters and a really bad cramp in my left foot from all the walking. I also tasted my first Nutella and banana crepe that day. ::drool::
Thursday, we headed out to meet our shopping tour guide, Heather (www.secretsofparis.com). She was a great tour guide- we searched through vintage shops, went through some brilliant art galleries, went poking around at Le Bon Marche for a prom dress for India. Dinner that night was my favorite- I can't remember exactly what they did to the chicken, but it was delectable. I had some red wine that night and slept like a baby- which unfortunately meant that I missed the cabaret show we were going to attend.
Friday was Amelie day- or, in our case, a trip through the section of Paris called Montmartre. I LOVED it. It's a bit more the seedier part of town. We peeked around the Moulin Rouge, then promptly made our way to Sacre Couer- it was stunning. We wound our way through there and checked out a few of the cheesier touristy shops. We saw the coffee shop where Amelie was filmed. (Note: You may be wondering if we took a taxi everywhere that wasn't exactly down the street- to the contrary. We used the subway SEVERAL times a day. I think riding the Metro here in Houston prepared me for the smelly people, the screechy would-be prophets and the kindergarten-age pickpockets.) That evening, we had our last dinner at L'Aubergine which is a restuarant located close to the hotel. Some of the employees there remembered my aunt, uncle and cousin so we got a bit of a hookup. I tried my first White Russian and swilled more wine. Lovelovelove.
Saturday, we left Paris after another stomach-turning ride to de Gaulle while Chels took the train back to Grenoble. I ached to come home, but I also felt like I left a chunk of my heart there in Paris. NONE of the stereotypes were true in my experience as far as the French go: everyone was really nice and helpful. I think that if you approach a new place with a little understanding and respect for their culture, you'll be rewarded. I speak enough French to have a simple conversation, and I was amazed with all that flooded back to me after some practice. I saw some of the demonstrations going on while we were there; I saw the police in riot gear Thursday, but I honestly never felt that my safety was compromised. And did I mention that the warmest it got while we were there was about 50 degrees?!?
Okay, I think that's enough for now. I need to go to bed since I am doing some more overtime this week. If you made it though this... I feel loved! ;o) I picked up some cheeses and baguettes from Whole Foods to try to a least keep a little of the memory alive, and so far, it seems to be working somewhat. I think I will try to plan a semi-fancy cheese and wine party sometime this summer.
Okay, I'm about to pass out. I'm sure as the days pass, I'll have even more to tell and pictures to show.