Côte d'Azure, and all it's gloriousness

Last week was pretty uneventful for most of the week, thanks to the combination of having a paper due on Friday and the grève. The grève being, of course, the infamous metro/RER strike across the whole country. It started on Thursday, and so those of us who had class had to walk an hour there and an hour back. I was surprised and dismayed to discover that Paris was so hilly. And France being France, the strike, though scheduled for only Thursday, stretched into Friday and parts of Saturday. All in all, that isn't that bad, considering the fact that the last two strikes lasted 3 and 5 weeks, respectively. But the most irritating thing was the reason for the strike: the workers wanted to keep their 30 hour weeks and retirement age of 50. Considering their salary (pretty hefty for people who press buttons on a train), it's ridiculous they'd expect to keep the old laws from back when they actually had to shovel coal.

Anyway, despite the various difficulties that some of you may have heard about my trip planning, Nice worked out. I was able to find someone to go with me who was willing to take a plane and not give up at the slightest planning difficulty. So, we took a cab to Orly (no train, of course) and took an hour flight to Nice very early in the morning. I had been up late the night before finishing my paper, so I had only gotten 2 hours of "sleep." Phil was still working on his paper all of Friday. We get to Nice, and it's absolutely gorgeous, with perfect sunny warm weather that is equally friendly to tank tops and sweatshirts. We missed our stop on the bus into the city because the bus driver doesn't announce anything, and we were kinda spaced out with all the beautiful water and palm trees. It turned out not to be so bad though, because we had day passes for the buses, and we were able to find a bus with a nice bus driver who told us when he passed by our street. We checked into the hostel, which turned out to be more like a cheap hotel (so, a step up, with a TV and a private bathroom!) and only two blocks from the beach. Since our room wasn't quite ready, we stopped for a sandwich at a small little shop and took our food to the beach. Not only were they the best sandwiches EVER, we were eating them and looking at the Mediterranean. Afterwards we went to a restaurant that was on the beach so Phil could use the wireless internet to send his paper in, and we had dessert and coffee. The rest of our day was pretty much spend wading in the water (because neither of us had brought bathing suits) and napping on the beach. Though the beach was rocks and not sand, it was actually pretty comfortable, and the rocks are all super round and smooth.

We wandered around Vieux Nice and found a nice seafood restauraunt. The meal, and the wine, were fantastic. I tried mussels, and much like the escargot, I'm pretty apathetic. I don't particularly care for them, but I'm not opposed to eating them. Next I'll have to cross cuisses de grenouilles off my list of French things to eat. After dinner we headed back to our hotel and called it a night.

Saturday we woke up with the plan to take the bus to Monaco and see Monte Carlo. We walked to the bus station, but on the way discovered the shopping center of Nice. It was pretty grey and windy instead of the beautiful sunny day we had Friday, but once we got on the bus we got a great view of the whole coastline and the cute French towns dotting the coast. After about an hour we arrived in Monte Carlo. We wandered around, taking pictures of yachts with names like "Miss Money Penny" and James Bond themed arcade games. Since we had hopped right on the bus, we hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch yet, so we found a little pizza place in a square and ate. We walked back up the hill overlooking the harbor, and then we went to see the famous casino. Pictures weren't allowed, but I managed to snap a few without being noticed. It was chock-full of tourists, though. After about 3-4 hours in Monaco, we had our fill of glitzy stores and policemen with golden helmets and Lamborginis speeding by every few minutes, so we got back on the bus and headed back to Nice.

Our last night in Nice was spend shopping, where the prices are good and the salespeople are really, really nice. I got a pair of boots that are exactly what I had been looking for. We had dinner at a restaurant that was showing the rugby final, although because it was crowded we were seating literally inches from the giant screen. I was able to watch up until halftime before I got a headache from being so close, and we finished watching it at the hotel. England lost to South Africa, and I was sad.

Sunday morning we had to get up early to catch the bus back to the airport, and while we were waiting we got to see the sun rise over the mountains. It was amazing (hello, understatement). Since we were leaving before the front desk was open, we had to leave our key in a safe box. We got to the bus stop, and there were already several people there. Apparently the bus was late. When it finally came, it was packed, and the other people were able to squeeze on, but the bus driver told us he couldn't take us. So, after a brief debate about whether or not we should bother waiting for the next bus, which might be just as crowded, we took an overpriced cab to the airport, seeing as how we only had an hour before our flight at this point. We got back to Paris in good time, and promptly commenced putting all our pictures up online to silently gloat over the fools who didn't go.

Trying to summarize a week is difficult, but here goes.

Ok, Sunday was homework and laundry day. Nothing interesting to report there, except that laundry is a ridiculous 4 Euros per load. No fun.
Monday I had class, and afterwards Caroline and I went to the Luxembourg gardens and wandered around the Latin Quarter. We saw the Panthéon, but decided that the entrance fee wasn't worth it. Instead, we headed a bit further down the street to discover a beautiful church called Saint Etienne du Mont. That night, three of us tried an actual dinner at a brasserie down the street.
I had escargots for the first time. They are neither fantastic nor disgusting, just kind of meh. Yes, meh. That is the word to describe escargot. The buttery sauce that they're in is really the only tasteful thing, the snails themselves are just kind of earthy. I also had duck. It was amazing.
Tuesday we had a midterm, and that evening, I went to dinner with Caroline, Averill, and Vidal. The four of us had to give a presentation on Machiavelli on Wednesday during class, so we briefly discussed our plan of action, and commenced the eating of French food and drinking of French wine without further ado.
Wednesday I went shopping at the Galleries Lafayette, though I didn't buy anything. I wanted to explore a bit more, but since there was much homework to be done, I headed home.
Thursday is when the fun started. After a very long day of classes, I met my conversation group, and we went to a bar/café where I proceeded to depress everyone by describing my summer job. After we got home around 9, we left soon after at 10:30/11 to go to Club Mix, which lets foreign students in for free before midnight on Thursdays. After waiting in line for nearly an hour, and suffering the irritating French tradition of cutting in line (grrr), we finally got in just past midnight and had to pay the 15 Euro entrance fee, but it was really worth it. It was so much fun! However, we didn't get home until 3, and we all had to get up and meet the bus for our trip to the Loire Valley at 6:30 am.
So, I went to bed at 3:30, after debating staying up and not sleeping at all, because past experience and foresight told me I would not be woken up my alarm at 5:30. Of course, that's what happened. I got a phone call at 6:45 am from a friend saying, "Where the hell are you? We're about to leave!" I threw on some pants and shoes, grabbed a sweatshirt and my purse, and proceeded to haul ass out the door and sprint down the street. Luckily, I did manage to make it to the bus, unlike another guy in our group, who had to find a train to take him to meet up with us later in the day. We went to Amboise, which is in a cute town, but other than the fact that Leonardo da Vinci is buried there, is somewhat unimpressive. Also, it was rather cold and foggy, so there wasn't much of a view from the towers.
Then, we drove to Blois and had a lovely lunch at l'Orangerie before getting a tour of the château itself. Blois is much more interesting, though we did have a very rude tour guide who we all wanted to throw things at. There are four different time periods of architecture in each of the four wings surrounding the courtyard, and the fourth was left unfinished, so you can still see the sketches on the limestone in preparation for the carvings. It's pretty amazing. Then that night, I went out with some friends to an American bar Averill had been raving about. It was an interesting group of people there, French, American, British, Australian, etc, and very congenial. There was even a White Sox beer pong table. Caroline and I managed to leave before the metro closed, so I got a good night's sleep.
Today I went to the Musée d'Orsay, which I really do think is better than the Louvre, and certainly less overwhelming. Plus, we got in free with our Art History student IDs. They worked like magic. Tonight is the rugby match between England and France, so we're going to watch it on a big screen by the Eiffel Tour. I'm really excited about it, and even though I'm in Paris, I'm going to be cheering for England!

Nuit Blanche

Nuit Blanche was ok. Much like Looptopia (well, obviously, since Looptopia was based on Nuit Blanche), it was spread over a large area of the city. Various art installations and supposedly performances (we didn't see any) were around the city, mostly concentrated along the Metro line 14, from 7pm to 7am. Actually, the highlight of the night was when France won the rugby semi-final against New Zealand. Caroline, Laura, and I were wandering along the street, looking for evidence of a Nuit Blanche event (we didn't know you could get maps at the Louvre). The street was lined with sports bars, and all of a sudden, people start screaming and shouting "Allez Bleus!," cars start honking, because there was some great tackle that put France in front. It was awesome. Some guy kept turning out of the sports bar to yell the score to people on the street. If you're interested in rugby, here's the full story: http://www.skysports.com/rugbyunion/World_Cup/Story/0,21043,13175_2785046,00.html

We managed to meet up with a few more people as we followed the crowds to Centre Pompidou, where there was a huge line for free admission to the upper galleries. We went through, and there was a video exhibit that really didn't make sense unless you had time to watch full movies, and a photography exhibit that was amazing. The photographer was Abbas Kiarostami.

Afterwards, we were very hungry and it just seemed like many groups of people our age were buying food and wine from crèperies and having picnics on the cobblestones in front of Pompidou. So, we did the same. I had a Parisian hot dog! They actually put two hot-dog-like sausages in a baguette, and then cover it with melted cheese. It's pretty sweet. Our little picnic was pretty fun, and when we finally got too cold to sit there anymore, we tried to find other events, but a few of us gave up and braved the packed Metro. We were sandwiched in there, though luckily we didn't have to squeeze our way out since ours was the final stop on the line.

Frommage, frommage, je t'aime!

So, Friday was pretty much the best day we've had in Paris. The Paris Center had one of the owners from a nearby wine shop bring us some wine and cheese to taste, and he told us about how to taste it, and the region it comes from, etc. We had two whites and three reds, with a cheese to match. I've discovered that I hate dry white wines, but the sweeter ones I can handle. And I reconfirmed what I already knew, that I'm completely obsessed with cheese. Who knew that fungus could do such wonderful things?

After getting sufficiently warm and fuzzy, we split up to go to our conversation sessions. Every three students are given a Parisian college student to hang out with for an hour once a week. My conversation assistant is named Jade, and we met her at the Bastille metro and went to a bar/café and talked about Chicago, old movies, etc. She said that our French was better than her last group, so that made us feel a lot better.

We regrouped at the dorms, changed, and met again for another pub crawl. Except that we only went to one bar. But anyway, it was a cool little place, and we were finally able to get several tables moved together and have a good time. Ice-breaking bonding games were played, such as "Never Have I Ever." Apparently I had a stunted childhood, because "never have I ever" heard of this game before last night. I also had considerable problems playing "Concentration" when I was in London. I guess the bonding moments come when people have a story to tell about how incompetent I am (I'm sure Seth still has a few snide remarks up his sleeve). Sweet!

Today was a wandering day. We took the metro up to Les Halles and just walked around, winding up eating kebabs in front of Notre Dame. It was so nice out, we didn't go in any places. Tonight we are doing the Nuit Blanche...more on that later.

Pere Lachaise and Cranky Waiters

On Thursday I went with Caroline, Averill, and Zach to the Père Lachaise cemetery. It was pretty cool, and of course we went to see the Lizard King. We were only able to find it because of the fact that it was the only grave surrounded by one of those make-shift fences they use along parade routes and such. All in all, it was somewhat disappointing. It was rather overshadowed by large and prestigious masoleums from the 1830s and such, all crumbling and rusting picaresquely. There was even one so derelict as to expose the above-ground coffin inside. And a few with trees growing up through the middle. Apparently it costs 6000 Euros to be buried there.

After wandering about for a bit, and a brief rest rudely aborted by a well-aimed bird dropping, we decided that we were craving crêpes instead of crypts and stopped in a café across the road. We managed to get a waiter at the end of his shift, and thus began the comic rigamarole of the Americans trying desperately to order food and the waiter running off with only half the order. Finallement, we got food, paid, and returned home.

That night the group went out for drinks at a bar called Footsie by the Opéra metro stop. It is a stock-exchange themed bar, and on nights when their screens aren't broken, the drink prices rise and fall with their demand. The crowd was mostly business men and women, but we were able to commandeer a space on the second floor with enough seats for all 15 of us. Afterwards, we left for another bar near Chatlet, and then we turned in.

Dorm Life

This is mainly to show a few pictures of my room. I have a single that is actually bigger than my double in the dorm in London. It's nice, especially since there is a refrigerator, but I don't have a stove or microwave and the communal kitchens are for considerably more people. The rooms get cleaned once a week, and the internet is infinitely better than it was in the London dorm.

It takes me about 5 minutes to walk to the Metro, and from there it's two trains and about 20-30 minutes to get to the Paris Center.

The people in charge of us in Paris are very disorganized, so all of the students are in two dorms on opposite sides of the Cité campus, and we're all on different floors in the dorms. Thus, it's incredibly difficult to organize outings and get-togethers. There's also the fact that there are quite a few people who already know others in both our program and the French CIV. We've been a bit slow in getting to know each other, but this weekend we've been trying to remedy that with frequent pub outings.

Je suis a Paris!

So, I'm finally in Paris. After all the worrying and stressing, of which many of you had to experience first hand (or at least, you witness my hyperventillation and the glazed-eye look as I mentally went through The List), I got here in one piece. And I didn't even lose any luggage! That doesn't mean that the process wasn't horrendous, but at least it is a plus. I have clean clothes, and this is a good thing.

I moved out of my apartment on Saturday. And, damn. I've managed to accumulate a whole lot of shit over the past two years + that I've been living there. It just kept going and going. Luckily, a very kind former 3rd grade teacher and former neighbor of mine agreed to let me store stuff on her back porch, so I had a place to put it all. I was also very lucky in that I found a place to stash Cat for 10 weeks; he is with a girl who wants a pet but will be moving away from Chicago come winter, so it actually works out pretty perfectly. Now, if I could only get rid of the subletter she has lined up for then, I would have a place to live once I come back to Chicago.

Anyway, I rented a UHaul to move everything, and on the way back to return it, we hit traffic and it took us 2.5 hours to get there because the ingenious (and I say that with such heavy sarcasm that I actually have to define it as such so there is absolutely no confusion that I might actually be serious) city planners decided that it would be a perfect idea to close the Dan Ryan down to 1 lane...that would be three lanes closed, and about as many workers visible along the whole 40 block stretch of traffic. Oh, and I almost forgot the kicker - this would be between the hours of 12 and 3 am.

So, I didn't get to bed until about 4:30 that night, and then the next day I had to wake up and finish packing. I spent the night at M's, but I had bags of stuff that I just threw together as I got increasingly sick of getting stuff out of my aparment. So that had to go. I managed to keep everything in two checked bags, and one carry-on/purse, so HA! My chronic affliction of overpacking is gradually being suppressed. It may take a few more trans-Atlantic trips of lengthy duration, but I feel that one day I will have mastered the fine art of recognizing the essentials and to hell with the rest.

I got to the airport on Sunday in good time, but M dropped me off at the wrong terminal (unbeknownst to either of us at the moment, it being the international terminal). I paid for one of those luggage carts, only to find that Iberia Air (which I was flying and highly recommend to avoid) has it's desk in a different terminal with American Airlines. And that the only way to get there is through the train shuttle. Which doesn't allow the carts. So, my moving-lifting-sore arms tug along two bags weighing between 40 and 70 lbs (each) whilst trying not to drop the 20 lb carry on or the requisite sweatshirt to protect against ridiculously chilled airline environments. And of course, Iberia is at the very end of the terminal.

Security went as fine as it does these days, I boarded successfully (though halfway through watching the first episode of Private Practice - does Addison deliver the baby and save the mother???). I sat in the middle with a friendly bunch of seatmates, especially a Colombian woman who lived in Spain. We spoke somewhat haltingly, both of us going back and forth between Spanish and English, but she was very nice and I enjoyed talking to her. The girl on my other side was going to do a study abroad program in Senegal. The in-flight movie of note was Ocean's 13.

Then the problems began with our landing, where we got to the gate in Madrid, and the door wouldn't open. I panicked when I saw the time, since I had a connecting flight in 20 minutes. And although the Iberia representative in the US had said I wouldn't have to go through customs to get to my connecting flight, I did (the Madrid airport is very similar to the one in Montreal, where I played the same charade). Then I had to go back through security, and apparently in Spain they don't believe in lines or organization. Then another train, and of course I get to an empty gate. Once I found the info desk, it was fairly easy to change my ticket, but then I had to wander the airport for a while on an endless hunt for a bottle of water (which I never found, oddly enough, especially considering the airlines hardly give you anything as if they want you to pass out from dehydration). Then a bizarre plane ride to Paris, where I dozed in and out to the sweet music of a huge group of Portugeuse tourists and crying babies. And then we landed, got to the gate, and the door was jammed again. I don't know how that happens twice in one day, but I don't think it's a good sign.

I collected my luggage, got a cab almost immediately, got to the Universitaire 15 minutes and 20 euros later (including tip, a relieving change from the 50 pound cab fare in London). I also had a nice cab driver who didn't blink an eye at my delirious patois of English, Spanish and French. Got my room assignment and had just enough time to shower (glory, glory, hallelujah!) before everyone met and went through a very unthorough orientaion. My room is not only larger than the one in London, but it's thankfully on the first floor (which diminishes the view, but is easily accessable and convenient for fire alarms). Now I'm struggling to stay awake until at least 10pm, so I'm off to go do some dorm paperwork. Woo!


Above: my dorm, Maison des Provinces de France