Our last day. The Louvre. It seemed fitting to hit the most famous spot in Paris on our last full day in the city. I met up with my girl Meredith from home, who’s studying in the Latin Quarter, just outside the famous glass pyramid at the museum. The three of us trooped through the Egyptian exhibit, some Renaissance art, French and Italian painters and reached the very unfascinating Mona Lisa. She isn’t that pretty, the painting is about the size of a calendar, and I’m not entirely sure why this piece is Da Vinci’s most famous work. I’ve seen better. But still, it was cool to view the painting that has had so many scholars searching for answers behind that smile. More interesting was the Birth of Venus statue, the lovely Aphrodite represented in cream-colored stone with both her arms cut off. In fact, I just this week saw probably the second most famous work of Aphrodite, a painting in the Florence’s Uffizi Gallery. After seeing her in the Louvre, though, we were ready to go. This museum is the most unorganized, confusing, pain-in-the-butt tourist spot I’ve ever visited. You have to go up and down flights of stairs every three minutes to get from one exhibit to another and they follow no particular pattern among the randomly connected and disconnected rooms. I was glad to have seen the Louvre, since I didn’t when we visited Paris in sixth grade, and it’s just so huge! I still haven’t seen probably seven eighths of it.
After the Louvre, Meredith left to go ice-skating with her abroad program and Nick and I wandered beneath the Louvre into its underground mall. Here (yay!) I picked out my Valentine’s Day gift. Since V-day is a girl’s holiday and shopping in Paris is possibly the best present any girl could get, this was my gift. I had looked around a couple boutiques in Montmartre and even tried on a gorgeous jacket or two, but hadn’t found anything perfect yet, until I noticed the jewelry sitting in windows of Agatha Paris. Agatha is a line you can only find throughout France and carries lots of beautiful necklaces with simple but elegant beads – and one that I just loved! Luckily, Nick loved it too and got this for me for Valentine’s Day, the perfect gift. In fact, I’m wearing it as I write this and can’t wait to find some great earrings to match.
And so we said goodbye to Paris – spending the last night catching up with Meredith in the apartment, over a bottle of wine that we never got open because we couldn’t find an opener haha. It was really nice to see a long-time friend from home and update each other on the usual Medfield gossip. You know, who’s going to what college next year and which underclassmen are dating upperclassmen etc. Some good laughs.
Now I’m home! Been back for a few days now and it feels like Paris was a century ago. It has been a busy few days, as I’m trying to set up travel plans for spring break and April. Allie and my friends Emily and Larissa are coming up to the UK too, where I’ll be in London with Nick for a bit, and then we’re going all together to Dublin for a couple days, including Saint Patrick’s Day! Although, I heard it’s not a crazy holiday in Dublin but actually a religious one, so we might have to have our own American version of Saint Patty’s Day all by ourselves. So I’m getting stuff together for that, booking flights etc to and from Dublin and London, plus figuring out hostels to stay at and all the fun stuff. Some other exciting news: Brooke is visiting Florence this weekend, Carmel might be soon, and Eva just booked tickets to come for the last weekend of April!!! All my roomies coming to my city! I am SO excited to see all of them and cannot wait to see my bestest vanilla-face Eva in Florence instead of all grainy on Skype. Brooke is coming tomorrow and staying in a hostel with friends, so we’ll probably go out on Friday together (after me and Allie have a vino study session with our Italian class!). And there’s more! I’m going to Rome, the Vatican/Catholic center of the world, for Easter the second week of April. And best of all, Eva and her roommate and Nick are joining me there. We’re looking at cheap hostels to get near the city center. I am bursting at the seams to see the Colloseum! Should be such a fun weekend trip, and it’s only three hours from Florence to Rome by train, so easy as pie. Speaking of pie, I kind of miss pie – don’t have too much of that here…ha, well anyway, I have to go finish a pastel of the Florence skyline that I started in Art today. And take a nap, because me and the girls are going out to do karaoke tonight…oh boy. Peace!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Paris, entry #4
After seeing Malmaison, I was excited to visit Versailles on Thursday and see what the real royal glory was all about. Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI’s palace, or chateau, loomed grandly in front of us when Nick and I stepped onto its vast grounds. And behind it lies acres of gardens, two separate smaller palaces that the pair could escape to whenever, and Marie’s infamous peasant village (to be explained later…she’s ridiculous). So we headed in for the long haul, as they say it takes almost a whole day to see all that Versailles has to offer. Nick had been before but didn’t spend more than a few hours and still had rooms left to see in the giant palace. We stopped first to gaze at the main chapel and its oversized organ, then walked through statue-lined halls (like Harry Potter’s Hogwarts!) on black-and-white checkered floors to the rooms. Much of Versailles appears like a museum, with paintings as big as walls covering from floor to ceiling. Speaking of ceilings, they are ornate and painted, much like the ceilings of most cathedrals and some museums in Florence. Now that I think about it, even the ceilings in Karine’s apartment were decorated with embedded borders in the paint. These people love their ceilings…Anyway, the rooms of Versailles were beautiful all around – My favorite thing was the chandeliers, huge hanging masses of crystals proudly displayed in the center of each room. Some had two or three. And then there was the Hall of Mirrors, Louis XIV’s creation: a long hallway lined in the ceilings center with sparkling chandeliers, one wall lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and the other with windows opening into the gardens. At sunset, the sun shines through the windows to reflect on the opposite mirrors, sending rays of light bouncing across and down the hall. I wish we could’ve seen it! We saw both Marie Antoinette’s bedroom and Louis’ two rooms (one that he actually slept in and one to perform the daily and nightly “good morning and good night” sessions that his servants did to greet the King). Nick’s favorite was a room he hadn’t seen before, the Hall of Battles. It held larger-than-life depictions of every important battle in French history, chronologically along each long wall.
After viewing the palace inside, we went outside to walk along the gardens, but since it’s winter and they aren’t as nice now just ended up taking the tram to the smaller palaces, called the Trianons. Louis’ Grand Trianon was made of pink and white marble – so pretty – and stood far away from the main chateau. In between are the gardens, which would take hours to walk through entirely. Still, the best part of Versailles I think is Marie Antoinette’s peasant village. She commissioned a mock village to be built in her “backyard” so when she got bored Marie could dress up as a peasant (along with hired “peasant” actors) and play poor-person for the day. The village area is gorgeous, with tiny thatched-roof houses lined along a pond, complete with fish and geese lazily swimming. There are even wagons and a farm, teeming with sheep, chickens, cows and goats. If I were Marie Antoinette, I would’ve much preferred to spend time here than in stuffy old Versailles! Oh to be a bored rich lady cooped up in a palace…poor thing.
So to thank Karine for all her help and guidance in the city of Paris, we let her cook us an authentic French dinner. She welcomed us into her apartment after our long day at Versailles; we were starved for some good French food. After the usual pre-dinner wine and chat that I’ve become accustomed to after meeting so many European relatives, we sat down to foie gras and cassulet. I wasn’t a big fan of the goose liver, but did like Karine’s bean/meat stew. And after, a raspberry and vanilla warm dessert in ice cream dishes! She was a wonderful host and it was fun talking with her kids and husbands about everything from videogames and TV to politics and the life of Hitler (her husband is a history buff, so he and Nick talked Napoleon and other crazy generals for a while). It was my final goodbye to the family and such a nice one. I hope to be able to see them all again sometime in the future. Hopefully back in Paris!
After viewing the palace inside, we went outside to walk along the gardens, but since it’s winter and they aren’t as nice now just ended up taking the tram to the smaller palaces, called the Trianons. Louis’ Grand Trianon was made of pink and white marble – so pretty – and stood far away from the main chateau. In between are the gardens, which would take hours to walk through entirely. Still, the best part of Versailles I think is Marie Antoinette’s peasant village. She commissioned a mock village to be built in her “backyard” so when she got bored Marie could dress up as a peasant (along with hired “peasant” actors) and play poor-person for the day. The village area is gorgeous, with tiny thatched-roof houses lined along a pond, complete with fish and geese lazily swimming. There are even wagons and a farm, teeming with sheep, chickens, cows and goats. If I were Marie Antoinette, I would’ve much preferred to spend time here than in stuffy old Versailles! Oh to be a bored rich lady cooped up in a palace…poor thing.
So to thank Karine for all her help and guidance in the city of Paris, we let her cook us an authentic French dinner. She welcomed us into her apartment after our long day at Versailles; we were starved for some good French food. After the usual pre-dinner wine and chat that I’ve become accustomed to after meeting so many European relatives, we sat down to foie gras and cassulet. I wasn’t a big fan of the goose liver, but did like Karine’s bean/meat stew. And after, a raspberry and vanilla warm dessert in ice cream dishes! She was a wonderful host and it was fun talking with her kids and husbands about everything from videogames and TV to politics and the life of Hitler (her husband is a history buff, so he and Nick talked Napoleon and other crazy generals for a while). It was my final goodbye to the family and such a nice one. I hope to be able to see them all again sometime in the future. Hopefully back in Paris!
Paris, entry #3
More Napoleon! Haha, but really, I did get interested in this guy, and especially his extra-sassy wife Josephine, by the end of this trip. On Wednesday, we met Karine (my great-aunt Nicole’s daughter, remember?) for lunch and then she took us on a special journey into the heart of France’s Napoleonic history. But first, let me of course tell you about lunch. Karine brought us, with her two kids (age 13 and 15) to a restaurant called EntreCote. It seemed very popular, even for an early lunch at noontime, and we soon found out why. The restaurant has a set menu of only a single dish that each customer receives (and then gets seconds!) – some kind of beef strips with mustard sauce and deliciously greasy French fries on the side. We of course had wine with lunch and then dessert, obviously my favorite part: vanilla ice cream puffs under chocolate syrup. And the conversation, despite our supposed language barrier, was so nice and we were able to learn a lot about French culture and customs sitting there with Karine and her kids. She told us about the terrible school system there, where kids go to class from 8am until 5pm at night, with no gym class or sports teams, and then do a few hours of homework afterwards. It made me appreciate recess and Medfield’s 20-minute breaks. These kids have it rough. I learned about how Karine grew up in Brazil and how different it is there from France, how she loves to vacation in Spain, how her children are geniuses at ping pong and love the American TV show “House.” It was so good to get to know Karine and her family, and the day wasn’t over yet! After lunch, she took us to Malmaison, the home that Napoleon and Josephine bought soon after they got married. She said that judging by Nick’s intense interest, this was a place we definitely had to see. And it turned out to be one of my favorite parts of this trip. Malmaison was off the beaten track and can’t be easily accessed by the Paris metro; Karine drove us there and led us up a long tree-lined walkway to the prominent mansion. It almost looks like something Mr. Darcy might have lived in, in Pride and Prejudice. The large house seemed modest compared to what we would later see at Versailles, and yet it was still remarkable. Inside, you can walk through the halls and rooms that Napoleon and Josephine lived in, slept in and ate in – with only a few other tourists around and almost no security. It was intimate and felt truly historic; you could reach out and touch the curtains Josephine had moved aside in mornings, or walk along the path Napoleon took to his bedroom. On view were her harp, dressing areas, a huge set of golden dishes from her previous husband, and the actual beds that each of them slept in. In fact, her canopied magenta bed was where Josephine died. It felt like walking through someone’s true home rather than a museum, and Karine was happy to show us one of her favorite places in Paris. It’s one of mine now too!
So after a fun day of more fun history, and I’m not being sarcastic about that, we went to the Les Halles area for dinner. I know I do a lot of talking about our meals, but honestly, it’s Paris. They eat there. Good stuff. So we voyaged to Les Halles, which is a huge park/market area that used to hold a famous meat market. Lucky for us, it still has an interesting meat-focused restaurant, called Au Pied du Couchon…meaning, “The Foot of the Pig.” For some reason I’m not sure I can fathom, Nick wanted to try out their specialty pig dishes. I have to say, I think I’m pretty good about going along with our food adventures, and so I went with this one. And when the meal came (not mine, I got duck and spaghetti), there was a tail, ear, and foot of a pig sitting – hair and all – on Nick’s place. Mid-dinner he said, “You know how a farm smells?....Well, that’s how this tastes…” I probably could have predicted that one haha! But apparently the ear actually tasted really good, and I think it was still a good experience. Now Nick can say he’s eaten almost every part of a pig and I can say, happily, that I stood by and watched. At least my crème brulee for dessert tasted like crème instead of a farm!
More to come for the next days in Paris! Pictures up soon too! There are a few up now…
So after a fun day of more fun history, and I’m not being sarcastic about that, we went to the Les Halles area for dinner. I know I do a lot of talking about our meals, but honestly, it’s Paris. They eat there. Good stuff. So we voyaged to Les Halles, which is a huge park/market area that used to hold a famous meat market. Lucky for us, it still has an interesting meat-focused restaurant, called Au Pied du Couchon…meaning, “The Foot of the Pig.” For some reason I’m not sure I can fathom, Nick wanted to try out their specialty pig dishes. I have to say, I think I’m pretty good about going along with our food adventures, and so I went with this one. And when the meal came (not mine, I got duck and spaghetti), there was a tail, ear, and foot of a pig sitting – hair and all – on Nick’s place. Mid-dinner he said, “You know how a farm smells?....Well, that’s how this tastes…” I probably could have predicted that one haha! But apparently the ear actually tasted really good, and I think it was still a good experience. Now Nick can say he’s eaten almost every part of a pig and I can say, happily, that I stood by and watched. At least my crème brulee for dessert tasted like crème instead of a farm!
More to come for the next days in Paris! Pictures up soon too! There are a few up now…
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Paris, entry #2
(Week in Paris starts in the entry below this one, to read chronologically)
My Napoleonic education continued on Tuesday, the day that every museum in Paris is closed. And so, we took the metro for a long ride out to Pere Lachaise, a cemetery that holds some of the most famous people in Parisian and French history, plus a few who just died in Paris and wanted to be buried there. Celebrities from singers and dancers to military heroes and politicians to poets and artists are buried in Pere Lachaise. The most frequented grave by Americans is Jim Morrison’s, which is covered with flowers and cigarettes tossed in the great musician’s remembrance. Nick scrambled around the graveyard like a kid in a candy store looking for Napoleon’s generals and other buried heroes. The whole place looked ancient, covered in moss, fallen leaves and shrubs between each grave. It was unorganized and unkempt, which added to the old, historic feel of the cemetery. Only a few graves looked like they’d even been added in this century. Many were hard to read, with the names and dates eroding into the stones themselves, and others had nothing but a last name displayed proudly on a family’s headstone. Almost all of them were above ground burials – large boxes of the dead – rather than the simple stones placed above bodies in most American cemeteries. I enjoyed the quiet, winding walk through Pere Lachaise, as Nick raced ahead to check out some Colonel or another. It was a peaceful break from the city and I even got to see some interesting people too. Oscar Wilde was my favorite, buried beneath a huge stone with an abstract head poking out, and all over his grave were pink lip-prints of tourists who came to plant a kiss on the writer’s monument. I didn’t add mine – it felt a little too creepy – but I did have my picture taken with Oscar Wilde. Too cool. And then we wandered to the crematorium, a long building with rows and rows of small boxes embedded into its walls where the remains of cremated people rested. Hundreds of people in little boxes indicated on our map by number. Here, I got see Isadora Duncan, a famous dancer who I’d heard a lot about in my days of ballet.
And then, off to Montmartre! Mom and Dad seemed to love this place so much and Nanny had even told me about where she and my grandfather spent lots of time at his apartment in this area of Paris, so I was very excited to explore Montmartre. It’s at the top of probably the only hill in Paris, sort of like a little San Francisco in the middle of the city, with lots of steep streets and fun shops to discover. Sacre Coeur church sits at the pinnacle of Montmartre, looking down over the whole city, and so we headed there first. At the bottom of the hill though, before boarding the tram to the church, we fell into the oldest tourist trap in the book. Two Jamaican men started talking to us and asked us to hold out one finger each, just for a second and we wouldn’t have to pay anything, they said! So for some reason we just said OK, and held out our fingers, and they looped a series of strings over the tips and started weaving bracelets right then and there. All the while talking animatedly about how much they love the U.S. and Obama, and how these bracelets will bring us good luck and “hakuna matata” and all that – “no worries.” I told them I remembered that from The Lion King and they laughed and kept braiding. When they finished, we each had a colorful, well-made bracelet on our wrists. And then they wanted five euros for each one. No way! We gave them four for the two, instead of a ridiculous ten. Oh well, not the best purchase of the trip but I’m still wearing mine and hope it does bring good luck for the rest of my time here, as it has so far! Even after falling for that one, Sacre Coeur was beautiful, and there was a guitarist singing songs in English at the foot of its front steps. We sat in the drizzling rain to the tunes of John Lennon and watched Paris turn its evening lights on below. Montmartre was full of life and good shopping, restaurants and finally the Moulin Rouge – standing proud and glittering red just like in the movie.
My Napoleonic education continued on Tuesday, the day that every museum in Paris is closed. And so, we took the metro for a long ride out to Pere Lachaise, a cemetery that holds some of the most famous people in Parisian and French history, plus a few who just died in Paris and wanted to be buried there. Celebrities from singers and dancers to military heroes and politicians to poets and artists are buried in Pere Lachaise. The most frequented grave by Americans is Jim Morrison’s, which is covered with flowers and cigarettes tossed in the great musician’s remembrance. Nick scrambled around the graveyard like a kid in a candy store looking for Napoleon’s generals and other buried heroes. The whole place looked ancient, covered in moss, fallen leaves and shrubs between each grave. It was unorganized and unkempt, which added to the old, historic feel of the cemetery. Only a few graves looked like they’d even been added in this century. Many were hard to read, with the names and dates eroding into the stones themselves, and others had nothing but a last name displayed proudly on a family’s headstone. Almost all of them were above ground burials – large boxes of the dead – rather than the simple stones placed above bodies in most American cemeteries. I enjoyed the quiet, winding walk through Pere Lachaise, as Nick raced ahead to check out some Colonel or another. It was a peaceful break from the city and I even got to see some interesting people too. Oscar Wilde was my favorite, buried beneath a huge stone with an abstract head poking out, and all over his grave were pink lip-prints of tourists who came to plant a kiss on the writer’s monument. I didn’t add mine – it felt a little too creepy – but I did have my picture taken with Oscar Wilde. Too cool. And then we wandered to the crematorium, a long building with rows and rows of small boxes embedded into its walls where the remains of cremated people rested. Hundreds of people in little boxes indicated on our map by number. Here, I got see Isadora Duncan, a famous dancer who I’d heard a lot about in my days of ballet.
And then, off to Montmartre! Mom and Dad seemed to love this place so much and Nanny had even told me about where she and my grandfather spent lots of time at his apartment in this area of Paris, so I was very excited to explore Montmartre. It’s at the top of probably the only hill in Paris, sort of like a little San Francisco in the middle of the city, with lots of steep streets and fun shops to discover. Sacre Coeur church sits at the pinnacle of Montmartre, looking down over the whole city, and so we headed there first. At the bottom of the hill though, before boarding the tram to the church, we fell into the oldest tourist trap in the book. Two Jamaican men started talking to us and asked us to hold out one finger each, just for a second and we wouldn’t have to pay anything, they said! So for some reason we just said OK, and held out our fingers, and they looped a series of strings over the tips and started weaving bracelets right then and there. All the while talking animatedly about how much they love the U.S. and Obama, and how these bracelets will bring us good luck and “hakuna matata” and all that – “no worries.” I told them I remembered that from The Lion King and they laughed and kept braiding. When they finished, we each had a colorful, well-made bracelet on our wrists. And then they wanted five euros for each one. No way! We gave them four for the two, instead of a ridiculous ten. Oh well, not the best purchase of the trip but I’m still wearing mine and hope it does bring good luck for the rest of my time here, as it has so far! Even after falling for that one, Sacre Coeur was beautiful, and there was a guitarist singing songs in English at the foot of its front steps. We sat in the drizzling rain to the tunes of John Lennon and watched Paris turn its evening lights on below. Montmartre was full of life and good shopping, restaurants and finally the Moulin Rouge – standing proud and glittering red just like in the movie.
PARIS!!!
So, you want to know, how was Paris? In a word, magical. In ten thousand words, I couldn’t even begin to describe. I can say easily that it was the most exciting, educational, exhausting week of my entire life. Amazing. We did it all. The Louvre, Napolean’s Tomb, Notre Dame, the Latin Quarter, Montmartre, Versailles and everything in between. We ate everything from pig’s feet to foie gras to France’s version of McDonald’s. And best of all, I wasn't sick! Antibiotics worked their magic and I was fine by the time my flight left on Saturday. So, here goes…
I arrived at Orly airport late Saturday night, since budget airlines seem to run consistently 45 minutes delayed. No big deal. But when I searched for the bus that was supposed to take me from the airport into Paris, I found only a sign reading : ‘Due to industrial action, this bus is suspended and no longer running.’ Fabulous! So, I grabbed a taxi into the city, which was a lot more expensive but the easiest thing at the time, and had my first French chat with the driver on my way into Paris. I was supposed to meet Nick at Les Invalides Metro stop when I arrived, but his cell kept going to voicemail and I was just hoping he, too, had arrived safely. After trying with frustration to get in contact with him during my cab ride, I settled down to take in the evening sights. Paris is beautiful. Despite being tired and unsure of Nick’s whereabouts in the giant city, I was truly excited to be there. I gasped in delight at seeing the Eiffel Tower suddenly lit up in front of us – the taxi driver definitely thought I was some nutty tourist. Which I guess I was. It’s just a gorgeous city. So bustling and alive, yet quaint and pretty at the same time. And when the cab arrived at the metro meeting place, there was Nick – with Valentine’s Day flowers and candy from London’s Harrods – to welcome me.
We found the apartment building easily, where Nanny’s brother Pierre and his wife Nicole were letting us stay in the studio they rent out on the first floor. It’s a cute little one-room place with everything we needed, even a small kitchenette where we later stocked some breakfast food for the week. Besides that, Nicole had provided us with packaged snacks, milk, Coke, water and lots of toiletries and cleaning supplies for the week. It was the perfect home base for Paris, complete with a huge wall-hanging of the national Fleur-de-Lis symbol.
I woke up Sunday to a phone call from Karine, Pierre and Nicole’s daughter who speaks English pretty well and had been the intermediate communicator for the whole trip. She invited us upstairs (where her parents live on the fifth floor of the building) to meet everyone that night at 5pm. Until then, we decided to check out the Latin Quarter and get started exploring the city. The area is known for its abundance of students and young, hip living. My friend Meredith from home is lucky enough to be studying there this semester, and we even got to meet up with her later in the trip. So, at a café nestled on a side street of the Quarter, we had our first Parisian crepes, stuffed with ham, cheese, and mushrooms for breakfast. And of course, I had to get a dark chocolate crepe for dessert! The waiters cooked crepes right in front of the restaurant, filling the place with delicious-smelling smoke from each splash of batter on the crepe-maker.
After, we visited Notre Dame and a smaller cathedral of St. Nicholas we found hidden in the Latin Quarter. Notre Dame was awe-inspiring. I appreciated its architecture so much more after learning about gothic and Renaissance art in my Art History class. The inside is larger than any cathedral I’ve seen in Italy; it just seems to go on forever, and the side chapels create an even grander feel. In one, you can view the famed “crown of thorns” worn by Christ, though this is only speculated, since there are a few more crowns on display in other parts of the world. But it was still amazing, closed in a thick case of red glass for thousands of tourists to gawk at. In fact, the church was the loudest, more tourist-ridden cathedral I have visited in Europe so far. There was very little security and everyone was using flash on their cameras – something strictly forbidden in Italian religious buildings. It felt more like a museum than a church, people crowding into pews and strolling along the isles in throngs. Not surprising, though, because this place has the highest, most intricate arches and flying buttresses I’ve ever seen – much more delicate and difficult-looking architecture than many Italian cathedrals.
And so went our first afternoon in Paris. At 5:00, we took the metro back home and picked up flowers for Nicole and Pierre before heading upstairs to meet my family. Karine welcomed us in, and I was surprised to find that her husband and kids were also there. It was a whirlwind of introductions and awkward pauses and a mixture of French and English. Karine spoke English with us, since her mother speaks none, and I was also surprised to find that Pierre speaks excellent English as well. My great uncle has been very ill for many years now, and greeted us with a smile and a “bonjour-hello” from his wheelchair. I’m not sure what I expected, but it was certainly not the smiling, upbeat, joking man that I met this week. And what a great surprise it was. Despite his illness, Pierre was talkative, happy, and excited to talk about the United States, where he studied engineering at MIT so many years ago. ‘It’s still the best?’ he asked us. Yes, we said, of course! And so we sat in their living room – a place I suddenly remembered visiting on my first trip to France in sixth grade – and discussed everything from soccer to politics to the best places for macaroons on the Champs-Elysees. Looking out at the Eiffel Tower from their living room window, Nicole served cake, éclairs, and champagne – a wonderful welcome to Paris.
Monday was the first of many busy days. Sticking to Nick’s historical interests, we started out with Napoleon’s tomb at Les Invalides. Les Invalides actually does mean “invalids” – as in sick and wounded military men who were nursed here many years ago when Les Invalides functioned as a hospital rather than the large museum it is today. (Although we found out later that the building does actually have a wing where it serves patients still, from Iraq etc.) The building is graced by a huge golden dome, visible above most other buildings when you look at Paris from a bird’s eye view. Surrounding the dome is an expanse of old hallways and hospital buildings that have been converted into museums of military history. Yay! I wasn’t super excited to see a bunch of ancient armor, but the day actually turned out to be very interesting and one of my favorite sights in Paris. You walk into the front of the building and there sits the tomb of Napoleon Bonaparte. His actual body, hair and all, lying in a shiny brown over-sized box in the center of the dome. The circular tomb is surrounded by statues of angels overlooking the body and the painted interior of the gold dome encases the sky above. As I gazed down at the beaten military genius, Nick bopped around the other tombs, excitedly taking pictures of Napoleon’s brother and other relatives in surrounding caskets. Best of all was the exhibit of Napoleon’s belongings – forks and spoons, briefcases, compasses, and cases full of letters he wrote to his wife (the lovely Josephine), other generals etc. Actual letters, in his hand with his signature, instructing the most powerful officials in the world to make attacks, change military positions and move their troops. Even for me, someone whose knowledge of military history and Napoleonic times is supremely limited, the tomb and exhibit were so exciting – just to think that such a historical monument had touched these papers and now lay only a few yards from us.
After Les Invalides, we headed to probably my favorite piece of Paris – the Eiffel Tower! Cliché, I know, and so touristy, but I think it really is my favorite sight in all of Europe. Well, that I’ve seen so far I guess. Maybe the colloseum in Rome will beat it, but we’ll have to see. And the best part was, we were able to see the Tower in all its glory at both day and night. We reached it just before sunset, ascended in the daylight to see all of Paris from above, and then by the time we got back down it was almost dark. Walking away towards the metro, I turned around to glance back at it and the Eiffel Tower had been lit up in its bright yellow lights for nighttime. Even at dusk, the city had looked beautiful from the top. We took the elevator to the highest point and looked out at Les Invalides, the Arc de Triomphe, soccer stadiums, the River Seine and the few skyscrapers. It was freezing cold up there, and we actually spent most of our visit to the Eiffel Tower traveling up and down and waiting in lines rather than wandering around the windy summit. The best part was walking away and looking back, and there it was: a shining beacon in the background of the city. Funny to think the Parisians had actually considered tearing it down right after Eiffel built it for the nation’s fair so many decades ago. It may be industrial-looking and disruptive on the skyline, but this monument is striking and a vision in light at night. I wish I we had the time to go back and see it again!
And so we left the Eiffel Tower shining behind us, back toward the metro, where we ran into a group of street-vendors carrying glowing mini versions of the Tower and key-chains that rattled on huge steel rings the size of hula-hoops. These people were not your usual vendors though – they actually don’t have permits to sell in most areas, and as I stopped to peek at what they had for sale, someone suddenly yelled “police!” into the group and the young illegal vendors grabbed their sacks and bolted. They flew down the streets, key-chains jingling, as a couple French police rode by on bikes. We laughed and kept walking, coming upon the group stopped again on the next block, right back in business. And so Nick haggled for a mini Eiffel Tower and now I will forever have my own to look at – one that even lights up different colors just like the original! It was a tourist moment for sure, but I just had to have a piece of Paris with me when I left.
Up and down the Tower we went, and then up and down the second best spot: The Arc de Triomphe. Not as outstanding when looking, but after climbing the 284 steps of the giant arch, you learn to appreciate what it has to offer. The Arc de Triomphe was actually pretty close to the apartment and sits at the center of the Charles de Gaulle Etoile, or star, that leads down the Champs-Elysees. From the Arc a bunch of streets fan out into the rest of the city, and the area looks like a star from above – something you’ve probably seen on any photo or postcard of Paris.
Here ends the first two days of Paris, I’m out of breath and have so much more to tell! Probably posting more later!
I arrived at Orly airport late Saturday night, since budget airlines seem to run consistently 45 minutes delayed. No big deal. But when I searched for the bus that was supposed to take me from the airport into Paris, I found only a sign reading : ‘Due to industrial action, this bus is suspended and no longer running.’ Fabulous! So, I grabbed a taxi into the city, which was a lot more expensive but the easiest thing at the time, and had my first French chat with the driver on my way into Paris. I was supposed to meet Nick at Les Invalides Metro stop when I arrived, but his cell kept going to voicemail and I was just hoping he, too, had arrived safely. After trying with frustration to get in contact with him during my cab ride, I settled down to take in the evening sights. Paris is beautiful. Despite being tired and unsure of Nick’s whereabouts in the giant city, I was truly excited to be there. I gasped in delight at seeing the Eiffel Tower suddenly lit up in front of us – the taxi driver definitely thought I was some nutty tourist. Which I guess I was. It’s just a gorgeous city. So bustling and alive, yet quaint and pretty at the same time. And when the cab arrived at the metro meeting place, there was Nick – with Valentine’s Day flowers and candy from London’s Harrods – to welcome me.
We found the apartment building easily, where Nanny’s brother Pierre and his wife Nicole were letting us stay in the studio they rent out on the first floor. It’s a cute little one-room place with everything we needed, even a small kitchenette where we later stocked some breakfast food for the week. Besides that, Nicole had provided us with packaged snacks, milk, Coke, water and lots of toiletries and cleaning supplies for the week. It was the perfect home base for Paris, complete with a huge wall-hanging of the national Fleur-de-Lis symbol.
I woke up Sunday to a phone call from Karine, Pierre and Nicole’s daughter who speaks English pretty well and had been the intermediate communicator for the whole trip. She invited us upstairs (where her parents live on the fifth floor of the building) to meet everyone that night at 5pm. Until then, we decided to check out the Latin Quarter and get started exploring the city. The area is known for its abundance of students and young, hip living. My friend Meredith from home is lucky enough to be studying there this semester, and we even got to meet up with her later in the trip. So, at a café nestled on a side street of the Quarter, we had our first Parisian crepes, stuffed with ham, cheese, and mushrooms for breakfast. And of course, I had to get a dark chocolate crepe for dessert! The waiters cooked crepes right in front of the restaurant, filling the place with delicious-smelling smoke from each splash of batter on the crepe-maker.
After, we visited Notre Dame and a smaller cathedral of St. Nicholas we found hidden in the Latin Quarter. Notre Dame was awe-inspiring. I appreciated its architecture so much more after learning about gothic and Renaissance art in my Art History class. The inside is larger than any cathedral I’ve seen in Italy; it just seems to go on forever, and the side chapels create an even grander feel. In one, you can view the famed “crown of thorns” worn by Christ, though this is only speculated, since there are a few more crowns on display in other parts of the world. But it was still amazing, closed in a thick case of red glass for thousands of tourists to gawk at. In fact, the church was the loudest, more tourist-ridden cathedral I have visited in Europe so far. There was very little security and everyone was using flash on their cameras – something strictly forbidden in Italian religious buildings. It felt more like a museum than a church, people crowding into pews and strolling along the isles in throngs. Not surprising, though, because this place has the highest, most intricate arches and flying buttresses I’ve ever seen – much more delicate and difficult-looking architecture than many Italian cathedrals.
And so went our first afternoon in Paris. At 5:00, we took the metro back home and picked up flowers for Nicole and Pierre before heading upstairs to meet my family. Karine welcomed us in, and I was surprised to find that her husband and kids were also there. It was a whirlwind of introductions and awkward pauses and a mixture of French and English. Karine spoke English with us, since her mother speaks none, and I was also surprised to find that Pierre speaks excellent English as well. My great uncle has been very ill for many years now, and greeted us with a smile and a “bonjour-hello” from his wheelchair. I’m not sure what I expected, but it was certainly not the smiling, upbeat, joking man that I met this week. And what a great surprise it was. Despite his illness, Pierre was talkative, happy, and excited to talk about the United States, where he studied engineering at MIT so many years ago. ‘It’s still the best?’ he asked us. Yes, we said, of course! And so we sat in their living room – a place I suddenly remembered visiting on my first trip to France in sixth grade – and discussed everything from soccer to politics to the best places for macaroons on the Champs-Elysees. Looking out at the Eiffel Tower from their living room window, Nicole served cake, éclairs, and champagne – a wonderful welcome to Paris.
Monday was the first of many busy days. Sticking to Nick’s historical interests, we started out with Napoleon’s tomb at Les Invalides. Les Invalides actually does mean “invalids” – as in sick and wounded military men who were nursed here many years ago when Les Invalides functioned as a hospital rather than the large museum it is today. (Although we found out later that the building does actually have a wing where it serves patients still, from Iraq etc.) The building is graced by a huge golden dome, visible above most other buildings when you look at Paris from a bird’s eye view. Surrounding the dome is an expanse of old hallways and hospital buildings that have been converted into museums of military history. Yay! I wasn’t super excited to see a bunch of ancient armor, but the day actually turned out to be very interesting and one of my favorite sights in Paris. You walk into the front of the building and there sits the tomb of Napoleon Bonaparte. His actual body, hair and all, lying in a shiny brown over-sized box in the center of the dome. The circular tomb is surrounded by statues of angels overlooking the body and the painted interior of the gold dome encases the sky above. As I gazed down at the beaten military genius, Nick bopped around the other tombs, excitedly taking pictures of Napoleon’s brother and other relatives in surrounding caskets. Best of all was the exhibit of Napoleon’s belongings – forks and spoons, briefcases, compasses, and cases full of letters he wrote to his wife (the lovely Josephine), other generals etc. Actual letters, in his hand with his signature, instructing the most powerful officials in the world to make attacks, change military positions and move their troops. Even for me, someone whose knowledge of military history and Napoleonic times is supremely limited, the tomb and exhibit were so exciting – just to think that such a historical monument had touched these papers and now lay only a few yards from us.
After Les Invalides, we headed to probably my favorite piece of Paris – the Eiffel Tower! Cliché, I know, and so touristy, but I think it really is my favorite sight in all of Europe. Well, that I’ve seen so far I guess. Maybe the colloseum in Rome will beat it, but we’ll have to see. And the best part was, we were able to see the Tower in all its glory at both day and night. We reached it just before sunset, ascended in the daylight to see all of Paris from above, and then by the time we got back down it was almost dark. Walking away towards the metro, I turned around to glance back at it and the Eiffel Tower had been lit up in its bright yellow lights for nighttime. Even at dusk, the city had looked beautiful from the top. We took the elevator to the highest point and looked out at Les Invalides, the Arc de Triomphe, soccer stadiums, the River Seine and the few skyscrapers. It was freezing cold up there, and we actually spent most of our visit to the Eiffel Tower traveling up and down and waiting in lines rather than wandering around the windy summit. The best part was walking away and looking back, and there it was: a shining beacon in the background of the city. Funny to think the Parisians had actually considered tearing it down right after Eiffel built it for the nation’s fair so many decades ago. It may be industrial-looking and disruptive on the skyline, but this monument is striking and a vision in light at night. I wish I we had the time to go back and see it again!
And so we left the Eiffel Tower shining behind us, back toward the metro, where we ran into a group of street-vendors carrying glowing mini versions of the Tower and key-chains that rattled on huge steel rings the size of hula-hoops. These people were not your usual vendors though – they actually don’t have permits to sell in most areas, and as I stopped to peek at what they had for sale, someone suddenly yelled “police!” into the group and the young illegal vendors grabbed their sacks and bolted. They flew down the streets, key-chains jingling, as a couple French police rode by on bikes. We laughed and kept walking, coming upon the group stopped again on the next block, right back in business. And so Nick haggled for a mini Eiffel Tower and now I will forever have my own to look at – one that even lights up different colors just like the original! It was a tourist moment for sure, but I just had to have a piece of Paris with me when I left.
Up and down the Tower we went, and then up and down the second best spot: The Arc de Triomphe. Not as outstanding when looking, but after climbing the 284 steps of the giant arch, you learn to appreciate what it has to offer. The Arc de Triomphe was actually pretty close to the apartment and sits at the center of the Charles de Gaulle Etoile, or star, that leads down the Champs-Elysees. From the Arc a bunch of streets fan out into the rest of the city, and the area looks like a star from above – something you’ve probably seen on any photo or postcard of Paris.
Here ends the first two days of Paris, I’m out of breath and have so much more to tell! Probably posting more later!
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Au Revoir Italy!
I'm going to Paris today!!! By tonight, I'll be settling into one of the most beautiful, stylish, lively and romantic cities in the world. I can't wait. My roommates woke up around 5:30 this morning to get on a bus to Rome, so I'm just chilling in the apartment waiting around for the time when I can grab my packed backpack and hike over to the train station, and get this trip started! It'll be train to Pisa, plane to Orly airport outside Paris, bus into the city, cab to the apartment building where Nick and I will be staying with the Chancels, Mom's uncle Pierre and his wife Nicole. It will be quite the experience, as they speak no English and my French really needs a brush-up. I'm going to have to stop myself from saying "Si" and "Grazie" and "Ciao" which has been burned into my brain for weeks now. Back to "Oui" and "Merci." I think communicating won't be bad though, and their daughter Karine lives nearby and actually speaks English pretty well (I've been communicating with her about the travel and arrival plans). Got to go now! Must pack, prepare and wait wait wait until I can get going to Paris. I won't have internet access there I don't think, so y'all will have to just sit tight and be ready for lots of blogging when I get back! Love to all on this wonderful Valentine's Day!!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Pre-Paris
It’s two days before Paris and I’m sick. UGH. Not to be all negative nancy or anything but…what the hell! My roommates and every single other person at school has been sick for a week or so, and (until now) I haven’t. For a week, I’ve kept my toothbrush in my bedroom instead of the bathroom so it doesn’t touch theirs, I’ve drank three liters of water a day (including airborne, of course) and rinsed all my dishes thoroughly before using them – just in CASE one of their germs had crept its way into my things. Paranoid much? Nah, just super excited for Paris and hoping that I wouldn’t get sick two days before leaving. And so here we are – fever, chills, sore throat… the works. With only a handful of American ibuprofen left. What to do! I guess be positive, which after a few episodes of Gilmore Girls, I’m being. Drinking tea, wet clothes on my forehead, I’m doing it all and just praying that this will pass before my 8:00 flight on Saturday. I refuse to let this stupid sickness get in the way of an awesome week in Paris. Sorry for the whiny rant, but being sick stinks and I don’t think I’ve had a fever in like ten years. Must be the water over here or something.
So, seeing the English-speaking doc tomorrow and hoping I have strep so he just hand me the antibiotics and get it over with! Well, not really hoping…just hoping I can be cured real quick. Being positive! I will be getting on that plane Saturday no matter what and you will all hear from me soon enough with the update – surely saying that I am healthy and packing for Paris. France here I come!
So, seeing the English-speaking doc tomorrow and hoping I have strep so he just hand me the antibiotics and get it over with! Well, not really hoping…just hoping I can be cured real quick. Being positive! I will be getting on that plane Saturday no matter what and you will all hear from me soon enough with the update – surely saying that I am healthy and packing for Paris. France here I come!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
A Peaceful Weekend
After a crazy and fun last week, everything here has been quiet the past few days. Even the streets outside seem less busy, and when my roommates and I went out shopping this weekend the world seemed at peace. Our side of the river was calm, only the occasional group of tourists passing by and a few couples sitting in the shade of the Pitti Palace across from our apartment. We set out Saturday afternoon to shop and found Florence in this quietness. Though the center was teeming with people, the weekend just felt calmer – even the rain had stopped. Colleen, Allie and I wandered around the Duomo and explored the leather market at the Piazza della Republica, where the vendors are happy to bargain and eager to sell. It’s hard to stay strong against those cute elderly Italian men when they pose a scarf or shawl for only ten euro, but we survived and moved on…shoe stores, clothing stores, cellphone stores – we did it all and had a ball.
Exhausted by the end of our walk, we put off cooking dinner and stopped instead at a Chinese restaurant. And boy was it Chinese, just like America. I felt at home for the hour we spent there, among the pastel colors and pots of tea and sticky rice laden with soy sauce. We told each other about our favorite Chinese restaurants at home (Allie is from Minneapolis and Colleen from Chicago, have I mentioned that before?) and I thought about the last time I was at The Lilac House with Mom and Dad and Grandpa.
But Italian Chinese food is just as delicious, and really hit the spot. We were restored and returned home ready for a night in – watching our new favorite show on DVD, The Sopranos, of which we watched at least three hour-long episodes before crashing for the night.
Today was even quieter, only leaving the apartment to go grocery shopping in the late afternoon. I braved the cool outdoors to walk several blocks away to a grocery store we hadn’t tried out yet. And lo and behold – this place is huge! Complete with seven different cereals, tunafish, a deli, and (yes!!) peanut butter! I hit the jackpot today. After shopping the last few weeks in a smaller store nearby – where there are only two cereals and cheese in packages – I was ready for a change. This newly discovered place is going to be great, and did I mention they have peanut butter? Peanut butter! About 6.50 US dollars for a mini jar, but I just know it will be worth it when I crack that jar open. Mmm!
And so after a lazy weekend, this week will be time for preparation. I’m going to Paris on Saturday! For a week! My Gonon family relatives are willing to house Nick and I in their extra apartment on the ground floor of their building, so we’ll be spending next week among the Parisians. I can’t wait to return to the city I visited so long ago – sixth grade I think? And we didn’t even do the Louvre then! As an educated adult now, I think I’m ready for the challenge, and we’ve got lots of other outings planned. Versailles, Montmarte, the Latin Quarter, and this famous graveyard Nick wants to go to are among many. So now it’s time for laundry and passport copies and mini toiletries and extra camera batteries. I’ll be leaving the pasta for the paté soon, and I’m so excited I can hardly wait to start packing.
Exhausted by the end of our walk, we put off cooking dinner and stopped instead at a Chinese restaurant. And boy was it Chinese, just like America. I felt at home for the hour we spent there, among the pastel colors and pots of tea and sticky rice laden with soy sauce. We told each other about our favorite Chinese restaurants at home (Allie is from Minneapolis and Colleen from Chicago, have I mentioned that before?) and I thought about the last time I was at The Lilac House with Mom and Dad and Grandpa.
But Italian Chinese food is just as delicious, and really hit the spot. We were restored and returned home ready for a night in – watching our new favorite show on DVD, The Sopranos, of which we watched at least three hour-long episodes before crashing for the night.
Today was even quieter, only leaving the apartment to go grocery shopping in the late afternoon. I braved the cool outdoors to walk several blocks away to a grocery store we hadn’t tried out yet. And lo and behold – this place is huge! Complete with seven different cereals, tunafish, a deli, and (yes!!) peanut butter! I hit the jackpot today. After shopping the last few weeks in a smaller store nearby – where there are only two cereals and cheese in packages – I was ready for a change. This newly discovered place is going to be great, and did I mention they have peanut butter? Peanut butter! About 6.50 US dollars for a mini jar, but I just know it will be worth it when I crack that jar open. Mmm!
And so after a lazy weekend, this week will be time for preparation. I’m going to Paris on Saturday! For a week! My Gonon family relatives are willing to house Nick and I in their extra apartment on the ground floor of their building, so we’ll be spending next week among the Parisians. I can’t wait to return to the city I visited so long ago – sixth grade I think? And we didn’t even do the Louvre then! As an educated adult now, I think I’m ready for the challenge, and we’ve got lots of other outings planned. Versailles, Montmarte, the Latin Quarter, and this famous graveyard Nick wants to go to are among many. So now it’s time for laundry and passport copies and mini toiletries and extra camera batteries. I’ll be leaving the pasta for the paté soon, and I’m so excited I can hardly wait to start packing.
Friday, February 6, 2009
A trip to the coast
A few of the best meals of the week, and maybe of my trip so far, were actually not even in Florence. For the weekend, Nick and I hopped on the train to Livorno to visit my Giorgi family relatives. I’m still not sure what their exact relation would be to myself, but they are relatives of my grandma Anna’s. I was excited and a little nervous to meet them for the first time, even though Mom and Dad had visited them a couple times way back in the day when they traveled through Europe. I knew I was going to be in for an enlightening and food-filled weekend. So when we arrived on Saturday morning, Giorgio picked us up in Livorno and drove through the hills and along to the coast to their small town of Castiglioncello. The view from the car was dream-like, looking out at the sea over cliffs of green and rocky landings. Giorgio drove like a demon, and I remembered that no one really pays attention to traffic laws here in Italy. When we arrived at their home, his wife Stefania and her sister Dahlia greeted us with big hugs and two-cheeked kisses and started handing Nick plates to bring to the table before we even put our bags down. First things first in Italy – meal time! They served us a long meal of antipasto, bruschetta, ravioli, then dessert cookies, then coffee. But not before pouring everyone a glass of wine – at noontime! They real know how to have a meal here. And afterwards, to walk it all off we took a leisurely trip down to the beach and through Castiglioncello. Through dinner and the walk, we learned how to best communicate with one another. Giorgio speaks surprisingly good English and spent most of the time talking with Nick, while Stefania spoke mostly French with me and both spoke to me in some Italian. I used as much Italian as I could to respond and ask questions, but it was actually easier speaking with Giorgio in English. Stefania was bent on speaking French with me, as I’m sure she doesn’t get to use her fluency very much, and since she knows that Mom speaks it well I think she assumed I would too. My seven years of French had somehow gone out the window though when I starting taking Italian classes at GW. I spent most of the time just listening and nodding and saying “oui” or “si” to show her that although I couldn’t find the words to respond, I did in fact know what she was talking about usually. It was an amazing trip, almost like a game or a puzzle trying to figure out what everyone one was saying and using a mix of three languages to communicate. When Matteo, their son, came home Saturday night to have dinner with us, his well-spoken English added another element to the fray. During a four-hour dinner, Matteo would tell stories to Nick and I in English but repeat sentences to the rest of the table in Italian, while Stefania would clarify to me in French. It was very interesting to hang out with Matteo, as he is exactly my age and also studying at university here. As an engineering student in Pisa, he had lots to say about life in Italy, what it’s like to study at his school, what he does for fun, and also had questions for us like how do Americans view stereotypes of Italians, what music do we listen to, and why does our entire nation stop everything to watch the SuperBowl. Matteo told us he likes ACDC, Guns N Roses, U2 and Led Zeppelin. I was shocked to hear these names, as they are some of my favorites too and I realized how close in interests American students are with Italians. He likes watching rugby and American movies on TV, he is an avid sailor (even competing around Europe in races), and knows lots about American politics. Even Giorgio said of the disliked Italian President: “Berlusconi has only two friends: Bush, and Putin.” The whole table laughed hysterically. Boy do they love Obama here. What a wonderful Saturday of family, and the fusion of America with Italy.
On Sunday, Matteo and the rest of the family took us to Pisa to view the famous leaning tower. As Dad had said before I left, “There’s not much to see in Pisa. The leaning tower is pretty much just a tower. And it leans.” Which is, yes, basically what Pisa has to offer. But it’s cute and quaint just like every other small Italian city, and after viewing the tower and the cathedral in the main square (which had grass. Grass! Something I haven’t seen in a while.), we took a little walking tour – as always led by Stefania’s knowledgable commentary. But first – lots of pictures in front of the leaning tower, of course. The lawn was filled, hilariously, with tons of tourists posing for pictures positioned so that they looked as though they were holding up the tower with two hands. I did one too, and then we took family photos at the foot of the lean. I was impressed by the tower and actually think it might be my favorite tourist spot in Italy so far – the beautiful lawn spread in front, the clean white tower and its image in mind since childhood finally brought to life before my eyes. It was cuter than I thought, strangely, and even shorter and skinnier in real life than I had imagined. What a sight!
And so the journey ended, and Nick and I rushed to make the train from Pisa back to Florence. It was a whirlwind two days, with lots of pasta and dessert and espresso, almost too much to be able to tell here. I’m sure I will think of more stories from our Castiglioncello weekend later and will toss those in once in a while.
We returned to Florence for one last day of Nick’s trip and cooked dinner in the apartment to talk over all the fun of the week. He left around 3am to catch a train back to Pisa, where his flight was scheduled to leave from around 6:30am. So I go to sleep Sunday night…and wake up Monday morning with 8 missed calls and an incoming call from Nick. I’m downstairs in your apartment, he says, can you come let me into the building? Apparently, the worst snowstorm in 18 years in London had completely shut down several U.K. airports. Everything was frozen, including the flights leaving Italy. So, he was back for a few extra days and had a rescheduled flight for Wednesday, spending a couple more days exploring Florence while I returned to classes. It was a nice surprise and I didn’t even have to deal with the worst part. While Nick went to and fro Pisa and Florence on Sunday night, I slept peacefully having no idea that London was in a snow disaster until his ghost reappeared on my doorstep and I almost thought I was dreaming the next day. Oh the stories we’ll be able to tell. Europe is so so so unpredictable! But maybe that’s its charm :)
Moving on…
There are two other recent noteworthy meals: one, of course, is GustaPizza, where I’ve now eaten twice in the last week. It is authentic, fresh-baked, inexpensive thin-crust pizza just around the corner from my apartment. My favorite is their name-sake gusta-pizza, with sliced tomatoes, mozzarella chunks and arugula (spelled wrong I think? Haha) all laid on top of a saucy, cheesy crust. Way better than Dominoes. Everything is fresh.
And then for the interesting meal, at a random restaurant my friends and I chose after going to the movies. (There is an American movie theater here, where they show movies in English a few weeks after they are released in the U.S. In fact, the movie theater is an actual theater, with balconies and velvety seats and a stage where the projector screen drops to show the film. There’s even an intermission!) Anyway, the restaurant we picked looked nice from the outside, as they all do, and we assume no Italian food can be truly bad, so we went for it. Inside, I happened to run into a friend from high school who I hadn’t seen in probably four years and didn’t even know she was studying in Florence too. Small world. So, we ordered the cheapest house wine, which is always delicious, and decided on some of the night’s specials. As Allie regaled the table with her crazy ghost story – which I made her tell since I’ve already heard and think it’s fabulously frightening – we chowed down a nice first macaroni course. The second was not so inspiring. Nick had ordered some sort of stomach, cow I think, and thought it would be interesting to try for some reason, which – predictably – turned out to be completely gross tasting and a texture unlike anything you’d conceivably eat. Not that I would know this first hand, since I refused to taste it haha. I think I can say with certainty that this is the only meal I have ever, ever seen him not finish. Quite the adventure. Me and the girls had a similarly unsatisfactory second course, some kind of beef stew that was stringy and fatty and made me realize why everyone in Italy sticks to cooking pasta. But not to worry, we fixed it all with gelato after and then headed over to Beatles Night at a club called BeBop. This place hosts cover bands each night of the week and turns out it gets quite the turn out. It seemed quiet from the street, but inside was loud and we could hardly move through the crowd. After finding ourselves a spot to sit, squashed together, we listened to some of the first set – great actually, for attempting to cover the Beatles. Definitely a place we’ll be going back to. Maybe for Janis Joplin cover night?
On Sunday, Matteo and the rest of the family took us to Pisa to view the famous leaning tower. As Dad had said before I left, “There’s not much to see in Pisa. The leaning tower is pretty much just a tower. And it leans.” Which is, yes, basically what Pisa has to offer. But it’s cute and quaint just like every other small Italian city, and after viewing the tower and the cathedral in the main square (which had grass. Grass! Something I haven’t seen in a while.), we took a little walking tour – as always led by Stefania’s knowledgable commentary. But first – lots of pictures in front of the leaning tower, of course. The lawn was filled, hilariously, with tons of tourists posing for pictures positioned so that they looked as though they were holding up the tower with two hands. I did one too, and then we took family photos at the foot of the lean. I was impressed by the tower and actually think it might be my favorite tourist spot in Italy so far – the beautiful lawn spread in front, the clean white tower and its image in mind since childhood finally brought to life before my eyes. It was cuter than I thought, strangely, and even shorter and skinnier in real life than I had imagined. What a sight!
And so the journey ended, and Nick and I rushed to make the train from Pisa back to Florence. It was a whirlwind two days, with lots of pasta and dessert and espresso, almost too much to be able to tell here. I’m sure I will think of more stories from our Castiglioncello weekend later and will toss those in once in a while.
We returned to Florence for one last day of Nick’s trip and cooked dinner in the apartment to talk over all the fun of the week. He left around 3am to catch a train back to Pisa, where his flight was scheduled to leave from around 6:30am. So I go to sleep Sunday night…and wake up Monday morning with 8 missed calls and an incoming call from Nick. I’m downstairs in your apartment, he says, can you come let me into the building? Apparently, the worst snowstorm in 18 years in London had completely shut down several U.K. airports. Everything was frozen, including the flights leaving Italy. So, he was back for a few extra days and had a rescheduled flight for Wednesday, spending a couple more days exploring Florence while I returned to classes. It was a nice surprise and I didn’t even have to deal with the worst part. While Nick went to and fro Pisa and Florence on Sunday night, I slept peacefully having no idea that London was in a snow disaster until his ghost reappeared on my doorstep and I almost thought I was dreaming the next day. Oh the stories we’ll be able to tell. Europe is so so so unpredictable! But maybe that’s its charm :)
Moving on…
There are two other recent noteworthy meals: one, of course, is GustaPizza, where I’ve now eaten twice in the last week. It is authentic, fresh-baked, inexpensive thin-crust pizza just around the corner from my apartment. My favorite is their name-sake gusta-pizza, with sliced tomatoes, mozzarella chunks and arugula (spelled wrong I think? Haha) all laid on top of a saucy, cheesy crust. Way better than Dominoes. Everything is fresh.
And then for the interesting meal, at a random restaurant my friends and I chose after going to the movies. (There is an American movie theater here, where they show movies in English a few weeks after they are released in the U.S. In fact, the movie theater is an actual theater, with balconies and velvety seats and a stage where the projector screen drops to show the film. There’s even an intermission!) Anyway, the restaurant we picked looked nice from the outside, as they all do, and we assume no Italian food can be truly bad, so we went for it. Inside, I happened to run into a friend from high school who I hadn’t seen in probably four years and didn’t even know she was studying in Florence too. Small world. So, we ordered the cheapest house wine, which is always delicious, and decided on some of the night’s specials. As Allie regaled the table with her crazy ghost story – which I made her tell since I’ve already heard and think it’s fabulously frightening – we chowed down a nice first macaroni course. The second was not so inspiring. Nick had ordered some sort of stomach, cow I think, and thought it would be interesting to try for some reason, which – predictably – turned out to be completely gross tasting and a texture unlike anything you’d conceivably eat. Not that I would know this first hand, since I refused to taste it haha. I think I can say with certainty that this is the only meal I have ever, ever seen him not finish. Quite the adventure. Me and the girls had a similarly unsatisfactory second course, some kind of beef stew that was stringy and fatty and made me realize why everyone in Italy sticks to cooking pasta. But not to worry, we fixed it all with gelato after and then headed over to Beatles Night at a club called BeBop. This place hosts cover bands each night of the week and turns out it gets quite the turn out. It seemed quiet from the street, but inside was loud and we could hardly move through the crowd. After finding ourselves a spot to sit, squashed together, we listened to some of the first set – great actually, for attempting to cover the Beatles. Definitely a place we’ll be going back to. Maybe for Janis Joplin cover night?
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Soccer and Food and Fun
Ohhhh Fiorentiiiinaaaaa!! Wednesday we went to the Fiorentina (Florence’s soccer team) game and got to witness the passion and feistiness that constitutes European Football. The soccer fans were more hostile than Yankees versus Red Sox, and maybe even more passionate than the most devoted New England fans I know. These people are nuts. The stadium even has to check your belt when you enter the complex, because whipping one another seems to be a common show of fan rivalry. All over Europe, fans gather to bash in the heads of opposing fans, wave their flags in the air, and scream chants that border on cruelty. They LOVE their team with all their hearts, and when Florence played Naples this Wednesday night the passion was evident. Nick and I sat with a group of my friends from the program in the “quiet” side of the stadium, reserved for people slightly less aggressive and crazy than the “true fan” side. In fact, the opposite side of the stadium from us was reserved for Fiorentina fans only, and you had to have a valid European Union ID to sit in that section – these are the real fans. Across from us, we watched them wave 30-foot flags and chant incessantly the Fioretina anthem. Ohhhh Fiorentiiiinaaaa! We were at first disappointed to be separated from what looked like the really “fun” area. But toward the end of the game, we got to witness true soccer fan-dom at its best. A fight nearly broke out just in front of us – Florence had scored a goal and a few older Fiorentina fans started taunting a group Napoli fans seated close by. They hollered at each other in angry Italian, saying what I’m sure wasn’t the nicest of words. The Fiorentina fans pulled off their belts and waved them threatening at the Napolis. One man was making the “I kill you” motion, slicing a finger across his throat in the direction of the Naples fans, and then proceeding to grab his crotch and butt and shaking both at the disgruntled opposers. It was so entertaining, sort of frightening, and we felt proud to have witnessed an almost-fight at European soccer. A very authentic experience. Oh, and I can’t forget two things: First, Florence won 2-1. Yay! And second, possibly even better than the game was the giant pig roasting outside the stadium, where fans lined up (including Nick, of course) to buy a hunk of freshly cut ham put into a sandwich. Yum!
Thursday was a day for walking. As it was finally nice out last week (back to rain rain rain this week), me, Nick and Allie took the trip up the hills beyond the Arno River to Piazzale Michaelangelo, also called “Fake David Square” because in the square sits a teal-colored copy of The David statue. I’m not sure what it’s made of – anyone know? Teal-colored bronze-like material? Anyway, the walk was very nice, in a small back neighborhood of the outer center, and led us to a tree-lined staircase on the side of a hill. Braving the steep hill, we ascended above Florence by early evening light and reached the top to look down at the twinkling city below. Along the walk was an odd fenced-in “feline community” – complete with tiny cat houses scattered throughout the woods for the felines living there. One even came out to say hello and I managed to get clawed within moments of petting it head. I guess cats that live in houses the side of a breadbox aren’t too friendly…So…we checked out the Fake David, looking pretty fake, and took in the beautiful view, then visited San Miniato. This church at the tip-top point above the city was smaller than most others and we weren’t able to go inside, but on its property was also an interesting cemetery for Florentine families. As night descended, so did we, returning to the city just in time for delicious dinner. See description below…
Since I was getting treated to nice dinners all week :) they deserve to be mentioned here. First of all, Nick and I discovered that if you eat dinner in Florence on American time (dinner at 7) instead of Italian time (dinner at 9 or 10), you get free stuff! The first place we went, a modest restaurant by the Arno, treated us to lemoncello shots after dinner – a fruity drink that seems to be popular and cheap around here. Another place gave us champagne before the meal and a large dish of antipasto for two that included samples about six different appetizers – all on the house. As Dad would say, I like Free! But back to the dinners – two are the most memorable. First, a restaurant called Cibreo, which specializes in not having pasta. Their goal is to show the patron what the Tuscan region has to offer besides pasta dishes. This was nice, since every other restaurant seems to have about thirty pasta choices for every meat one. Cibreo is small and cozy, and the waiter was kindly willing to explain each dish to us in English and give some recommendations. Nick went with the bold rabbit stew, while I ordered a dish of chicken-meatballs. Turned out I got a miniature bowl with two (two!) miniature meatballs in it…hah! But they were bathed in a delectable sauce and I of course sampled some rabbit stew, which was also surprisingly amazing for how strange it sounds. And after…this is the best part…Chocolate cake! Honestly, no joke, no doubt, the BEST chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten in my entire life. And I’ve eaten a lot of chocolate cake. Let’s just say we got dessert to share and I ate about 90%. SO good.
Second dinner! This one was at a place I can’t remember the name of and will just leave it to Nick to post in the comments section if necessary…But I do know that it’s executive chef is a Hapsburg Prince (which I guess are an ancient nobility from Germany and Austria?) and he just hangs out in Florence cooking the Italian way with a hint of Germany. This was where we got free champagne and antipasto. My main dish here was a great ravioli and then – veal! It was almost too much food to handle, but amazing nonetheless. Second only to the chocolate cake from Cibreo.
Stay tuned! More restaurant reviews and fun museum stories to follow :)
Thursday was a day for walking. As it was finally nice out last week (back to rain rain rain this week), me, Nick and Allie took the trip up the hills beyond the Arno River to Piazzale Michaelangelo, also called “Fake David Square” because in the square sits a teal-colored copy of The David statue. I’m not sure what it’s made of – anyone know? Teal-colored bronze-like material? Anyway, the walk was very nice, in a small back neighborhood of the outer center, and led us to a tree-lined staircase on the side of a hill. Braving the steep hill, we ascended above Florence by early evening light and reached the top to look down at the twinkling city below. Along the walk was an odd fenced-in “feline community” – complete with tiny cat houses scattered throughout the woods for the felines living there. One even came out to say hello and I managed to get clawed within moments of petting it head. I guess cats that live in houses the side of a breadbox aren’t too friendly…So…we checked out the Fake David, looking pretty fake, and took in the beautiful view, then visited San Miniato. This church at the tip-top point above the city was smaller than most others and we weren’t able to go inside, but on its property was also an interesting cemetery for Florentine families. As night descended, so did we, returning to the city just in time for delicious dinner. See description below…
Since I was getting treated to nice dinners all week :) they deserve to be mentioned here. First of all, Nick and I discovered that if you eat dinner in Florence on American time (dinner at 7) instead of Italian time (dinner at 9 or 10), you get free stuff! The first place we went, a modest restaurant by the Arno, treated us to lemoncello shots after dinner – a fruity drink that seems to be popular and cheap around here. Another place gave us champagne before the meal and a large dish of antipasto for two that included samples about six different appetizers – all on the house. As Dad would say, I like Free! But back to the dinners – two are the most memorable. First, a restaurant called Cibreo, which specializes in not having pasta. Their goal is to show the patron what the Tuscan region has to offer besides pasta dishes. This was nice, since every other restaurant seems to have about thirty pasta choices for every meat one. Cibreo is small and cozy, and the waiter was kindly willing to explain each dish to us in English and give some recommendations. Nick went with the bold rabbit stew, while I ordered a dish of chicken-meatballs. Turned out I got a miniature bowl with two (two!) miniature meatballs in it…hah! But they were bathed in a delectable sauce and I of course sampled some rabbit stew, which was also surprisingly amazing for how strange it sounds. And after…this is the best part…Chocolate cake! Honestly, no joke, no doubt, the BEST chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten in my entire life. And I’ve eaten a lot of chocolate cake. Let’s just say we got dessert to share and I ate about 90%. SO good.
Second dinner! This one was at a place I can’t remember the name of and will just leave it to Nick to post in the comments section if necessary…But I do know that it’s executive chef is a Hapsburg Prince (which I guess are an ancient nobility from Germany and Austria?) and he just hangs out in Florence cooking the Italian way with a hint of Germany. This was where we got free champagne and antipasto. My main dish here was a great ravioli and then – veal! It was almost too much food to handle, but amazing nonetheless. Second only to the chocolate cake from Cibreo.
Stay tuned! More restaurant reviews and fun museum stories to follow :)
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
London meets Florence
Long time no see! I’ve been super busy the past week or so, and am just now getting to record all the great Florentine things I’ve been doing…
Last Wednesday was a big day. Nick had arrived Tuesday, after a tiring early-morning flight from London (where he is studying for the semester), and checking into his hotel turned out to be quite the fiasco. It turned out the Spagna Hotel, where he was supposed to stay for a few nights, had some sort of “problem with the water” (the kind of unclear, mysterious explanation that I’m getting used to coming across in Italy). After walking to another hotel that told us to go to another hotel and arriving at the new hotel but not being able to find it for half an hour because the new hotel actually went by another name than the second hotel told us (confusing??), we finally stumbled upon the relocated hotel and checked in easily and it turned out to be even nicer than the original. So…
Wednesday: To start with, we visited arguably the most famous sculpture ever created – The David, in The Accademia Galleria. And it was even more impressive than I was prepared for. The giant statue of David, clutching both ends of his sash and looking like pure perfection, is taller and cleaner than I had imagined. The white marble is untainted (except where a vandal smashed David’s toes in 1992) and every vein and muscle in the body looks like the statue might spring to life at any moment. I was in awe. And interestingly, you can also see about six more unfinished sculptures of Michaelangelo’s that are also quite famous, in a lobby leading up to the circular hall where The David stands illuminated. It’s funny, but, the rest of the Gallery in which this amazing sculpture rests is actually pretty unimpressive. Besides a few more pieces by Michaelangelo, most of the pieces in other rooms are plaster copies of the originals. Although, a random music exhibit showed off instruments dating from the 1500s – we could even touch the keys of a grand piano to watch its inner-workings and see how the string transfers to sound. Something I already knew from growing up with a musical genius though.
The Palazzo Vecchio was our next stop. I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting to like the Palace so much – it seems small from the outside and I hadn’t heard much about it from tourists or anyone who might recommend it. But since Nick is Mister History, I figured we should check out this 1500s palace where some of the Medici Family had lived. It was beautiful! You first walk into the main courtyard and then follow a maze of staircases and hallways through the rest of the building to view the rooms of Cosimo I, Lorenzo il Magnifico, and a variety of other dukes and princes of Florence. As always in this city, the ceilings and floors were the most impressive part of the palace. Each room had a different design and color scheme, with dark reds, greens, and golds that gave the whole place a feeling you might find in Shakespearian films. I felt like I could walk around a corner and find Hamlet staring back at me. Weaving through the stone interior, we finally came upon the best part of the Palazzo Vecchio – its huge hall the size of a football field, called Cinquecento. This was where city councils of 500 members would meet in Florence before its Republic fell in 1530. Along the great hall’s walls are massive frescoes of battles won by the Florentine army, painted by none other than Leonardo da Vinci and Michaelangelo.
So much more to write but gotta get some sleep, so I'll be adding more this weekend! Ciao!
Last Wednesday was a big day. Nick had arrived Tuesday, after a tiring early-morning flight from London (where he is studying for the semester), and checking into his hotel turned out to be quite the fiasco. It turned out the Spagna Hotel, where he was supposed to stay for a few nights, had some sort of “problem with the water” (the kind of unclear, mysterious explanation that I’m getting used to coming across in Italy). After walking to another hotel that told us to go to another hotel and arriving at the new hotel but not being able to find it for half an hour because the new hotel actually went by another name than the second hotel told us (confusing??), we finally stumbled upon the relocated hotel and checked in easily and it turned out to be even nicer than the original. So…
Wednesday: To start with, we visited arguably the most famous sculpture ever created – The David, in The Accademia Galleria. And it was even more impressive than I was prepared for. The giant statue of David, clutching both ends of his sash and looking like pure perfection, is taller and cleaner than I had imagined. The white marble is untainted (except where a vandal smashed David’s toes in 1992) and every vein and muscle in the body looks like the statue might spring to life at any moment. I was in awe. And interestingly, you can also see about six more unfinished sculptures of Michaelangelo’s that are also quite famous, in a lobby leading up to the circular hall where The David stands illuminated. It’s funny, but, the rest of the Gallery in which this amazing sculpture rests is actually pretty unimpressive. Besides a few more pieces by Michaelangelo, most of the pieces in other rooms are plaster copies of the originals. Although, a random music exhibit showed off instruments dating from the 1500s – we could even touch the keys of a grand piano to watch its inner-workings and see how the string transfers to sound. Something I already knew from growing up with a musical genius though.
The Palazzo Vecchio was our next stop. I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting to like the Palace so much – it seems small from the outside and I hadn’t heard much about it from tourists or anyone who might recommend it. But since Nick is Mister History, I figured we should check out this 1500s palace where some of the Medici Family had lived. It was beautiful! You first walk into the main courtyard and then follow a maze of staircases and hallways through the rest of the building to view the rooms of Cosimo I, Lorenzo il Magnifico, and a variety of other dukes and princes of Florence. As always in this city, the ceilings and floors were the most impressive part of the palace. Each room had a different design and color scheme, with dark reds, greens, and golds that gave the whole place a feeling you might find in Shakespearian films. I felt like I could walk around a corner and find Hamlet staring back at me. Weaving through the stone interior, we finally came upon the best part of the Palazzo Vecchio – its huge hall the size of a football field, called Cinquecento. This was where city councils of 500 members would meet in Florence before its Republic fell in 1530. Along the great hall’s walls are massive frescoes of battles won by the Florentine army, painted by none other than Leonardo da Vinci and Michaelangelo.
So much more to write but gotta get some sleep, so I'll be adding more this weekend! Ciao!
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