Spring Break, continued

Oh, hello again. I'm back. I should be studying for my midterms (which are coming up this week), but I know I'm gonna procrastinate and I figure that procrastination by blogging is slightly more productive than procrastinating by creeping around on facebook, so here I am.

Let's see, where did I leave off? Okay. Here we go.

Day Nine: samedi le 24 avril (Saturday, 24 April)
Actually woke up in time to take advantage of the hotel's complimentary breakfast! (It was nothing special, but for 60 € a night for one person, one has to take advantage of all the freebies one can, am I right? I also took super-long showers and stole all the complimentary toiletries. But then again, I do that everywhere.) Anyway, having eaten my bread and cheese and croissant and jam and downed my double-tall shot glass of OJ, I was ready to go explore the city some more. The night before, I had written out a plan for sight-seeing, including the names of places, the nearest metro stops, and the metro lines the stops were on. I was Miss Organized Tourist 2010. And I started the day by heading toward Sacre Coeur, known in English as Sacred Heart Basilica, up on the top of the hill. I just kind of started walking after I left the hotel, and the red light district (located uphill of the hotel) quickly faded away into quiet cobblestone streets lined with tall, faded buildings, a lot of which appeared to be residential the higher up I got. I climbed a set of steep stairs, huffing and puffing and sweating by this time, and continued my climb uphill. I wasn't really sure if I was even going in the right direction at this point, but it was a nice walk and I didn't want to whip out my Tourist Beacon (map), so I just kept going. As long as I'm headed uphill, I figured, I can't really go wrong. And for once, I was right:

Sacre Coeur: it's gotta be one of the more unique architectural landmarks in Paris.

The basilica sits up on top of a huge hill overlooking the city (maybe you remember it off in the distance in that picture from the previous entry). The view is ridiculous: the entire city stretched out before me, fading into the humid morning haze:

Just another thing I climbed to the top of in Paris. No big.

I can only imagine what the view must be like on a really clear day. Amazing. And a little dizzying.

I went inside the basilica but you aren't allowed to take pictures inside. (You're also supposed to be respectfully dressed - aka no shoulders, ladies - but I definitely saw a woman wearing a tube dress in there. And I don't wanna sound mean, but this woman should not have been wearing a tube dress anywhere - the beach, the pool, whatever - let alone in a church. Still not as bizarre as the strapless prom dress-wearing lady I saw at Notre Dame, though.) Anyway, I bought a couple postcards, one of which showed the inside of the church, and then headed back down the hill by the more traveled, more touristy way (avoiding all the people asking me to sign petitions, take surveys, buy light-up paperweights of the Eiffel Tower, etc.). This particular route deposited me smack dab in the middle of a bunch of cheap souvenir shops. You know what I'm talking about - they're all selling keychains, postcards, baseball caps, and the same four shot glasses. But I gave in to the urge and did a little shopping, buying some souvenirs for myself, some postcards to send home, and a little present for Tracey. After I made it back down the hill, I exchanged my travelers' checks and rewarded myself by buying a really cute minidress/long top and some cute flats at a cheap-y, hole-in-the-wall store. (Shoes = 4,95 €. Dress = 10 €. Me = ecstatic.)

Shopping bags in hand, I continued around Montmartre - it's very pretty (and peaceful once you get off the tourist-y streets), with a lot of art galleries (as it is known as the artists' neighborhood of Paris) and, for some reason, a lot of cloth and textile ("tissu") stores. But I was on a mission: I wanted to find Amélie's café (from the movie). The film itself takes place in Paris, particularly Montmartre, where the title character lives. (In fact, one of the film's international titles is "Amélie of Montmartre.") The café Amélie works at, I'd discovered during my hotel research, is actually a real place, and I was determined to find it. The only problem was that I had no real idea where it was (only that it was somewhat near Rue Aristide Bruant), no real recollection of the name (something about windmills, maybe?), and only the foggiest recollection of what it looked like. (Unfortunately, half the cafés in Paris could fit my "foggy recollection.") Nevertheless, I was intent on finding this place, despite the fact that I had little idea what I was actually looking for and my map didn't include Rue Aristide Bruant.

My first break came in Place des Abbesses, where I found a posted map that included the road I was looking for - and it was only a couple blocks down! I set off, wandered back up the hill, found a windmill (Montmartre used to be covered with them - read all about it here), and in short had a very pleasant walk along some beautiful streets - but no trace of Amélie or her café.

Whooooosh.

All the streets not running "parallel" to the hill are steep and some are killer to climb.

I did, however, stumble across an SNCF boutique. Perfect, since I needed to get a refund on my return ticket from Milan (since I didn't ever make it to Italy) and get my ticket back to Lyon printed out for me. I waited in line for probably over half an hour (boring) and finally got everything taken care of. By this time it was around noon and I said to myself, "You'd better get going if you wanna do anything else in the city today. Just drop your stuff off at the hotel and take the metro over to the Eiffel Tower. You'll be mad at yourself if you spend the whole day looking for a café you may or may not have unwittingly seen already" (and I'd been taking pictures of all of them, just in case). I begrudgingly admitted to myself that this was good advice, and started wandering back in the general direction of the hotel. And there it was. No, not the hotel, you doof. The café!!! It was called Café des 2 Moulins, "The Two Windmills," because it's located between the Moulin Rouge and the windmill at the top of the hill. I recognized the name, but what's more is I recognized the big honkin' picture of Audrey Tautou on the back wall of the restaurant. What luck! I thought, and proceeded to take a million (or, okay, three) pictures:

Amélie's café!

So I returned to the hotel (after a brief detour to McDonald's to use the free wifi) feeling good. I dropped off my stuff and then headed to the Eiffel Tower. I got off not right at the tower but at a stop that was slightly further away (it was easier than transferring metro lines) and kind of blindly felt out my way toward the tower. I finally found it and approached it from the side with a very nice little park with koi ponds, etc. As I stood there, staring mesmerized at the fish, I got a text from my friend Nayab saying that a group of my friends had just returned from Prague and were in the city. I called her back to plan a time to meet, talked to Jake, and he agreed that they'd text or call me when they'd figured out their plans. I therefore figured I had some time, and I got in line to go up the Eiffel Tower - all stairs, baby, no elevators for me. Sure the stairs only take you up to the second landing (not the very top), but the student ticket was 3,50 € (as opposed to 11,50 € to go all the way up in the elevator). I steeled myself for a long walk and headed up. I made it to the first landing, took a crapload of pictures, and then headed up to the second landing, where I took another bunch of pictures of all the same stuff, only higher. Here's a sampling:

Let's play "spot the Arc de Triomphe"...

Keep in mind how this picture makes it look like you're close to the top...later you'll see that you're really not even halfway up.

Having had my fill of Eiffel Tower tourist-related hijinks, including, but not limited to: buying overpriced postcards (0,50 € each?!), counting the steps all the way down to the ground from the second landing (692), and listening to an American tourist make a failed attempt to thank a French security guard in his native language ("Gracias!"), I got in touch with the rest of the group (whilst fending off the million and one guys standing around trying to sell me yet another light-up Eiffel Tower paperweight) and found out that they were getting falafel, apparently at a restaurant called only "Falafel." I headed off in search of a metro station. Somehow I managed to get myself lost while doing this (despite the fact that there is a metro station at the Eiffel Tower - although it's really not the most convenient line for getting where I needed to go). As I was wondering around Paris, hot and sweaty and starting to get hungry, I got another text telling me that the restaurant was closed and that instead I should just text the group when I got off at the St. Paul metro stop. Okay. I found a metro, got on, transferred, rode to St. Paul, and was just about to send off a text when the group spotted me (thus saving me 20 Eurocents). We checked out St. Paul's cathedral and then went to Notre Dame (my second time, but the first time for some of the others). We walked up by the Pantheon again and then got Indian food for dinner, immediately after which we found a crêpe stand and bought crêpes (natch). It was starting to get dark, so we went back toward the Eiffel Tower to see it all lit up at night. Kelly and Nayab were absolutely enthralled. It was adorable. =)

We had a lot of fun taking pictures in front of the tower (Amanda and I took a bunch of pictures of us throwing the Kappa Delta sign, since I'm short and the sign actually covered my face in some of the pictures...booooo), and we got a fellow tourist to take a picture of all of us (he was super-nice), although the pictures didn't come out so great in the dark:

You can tell it's actually us and not just a random group of people because you can see me off on the right, being all short and whatnot.

La Tour Eiffel at night.

We explored the base of the tower a bit and briefly considered going up, but in the end we decided to just go grab a spot on the lawn to watch the tower sparkle, which it does every hour on the hour for a couple minutes. It was very nice. I believe we sang some Disney songs and Kelly and I split a bar of dark chocolate with quinoa in it. (It tasted like a super-delicious Crunch Bar.) And then the tower started to sparkle and there was a collective "oooh" from the crowd:

Ooh, that's right. It's a video. We're gettin' all high-tech up in here.

Believe me, the video does not come close to doing it justice. It's really pretty when it's all sparkly like that.

When the tower finished doing its thing, we went back to the metro station and took it to Pigalle so that I wouldn't have to walk in or near the red-light district by myself to get back to the hotel. (Kelly kindly offered to get me a discounted room at the Marriot with them, which would have been super-fun, but I'd already reserved three nights at my hotel so it would have been a waste of money. I was a little bummed to miss out on bonding time, so I took an extra-long, extra-hot shower to console myself, and then finished my book. Lovely.)

Anyway, people were also interested in seeing the Moulin Rouge, and I wanted to see it at night myself (something I would not have been able to do on my own). Since there were five of us (and we had a guy to protect us, haha), we braved the red-light district and made it to the Moulin Rouge, which looked all classic and whatnot lit up at night:

The (in)famous Moulin Rouge at night

Then everyone walked me back to Pigalle, at which point I said I felt like I could do the rest of the walk on my own. It was only across the square and down a side-street, after all, and there were people out and about that would certainly hear my distressed screams should I feel the need to make any. We parted with strict instructions for me to text Nayab as soon as I got back to my hotel room. Okay. Done. I started walking, whistle in hand just in case. I crossed the square. There was a guy walking close behind me, not following me per se, but muttering to me (at me?) in French as I went. I ignored him and crossed the street. He remained on the other side. Whew. Walk, walk, walk. I ignored another guy as he shouted "Excusez-moi, mademoiselle! Excusez-moi!" at me from across the street. Then my walking buddy crossed back over and walked behind me some more, continuing to mumble. It was a little creepy, but by then I was only about one door down from my hotel and could see the lobby light spilling out into the street through the open door, so I wasn't so much afraid as just a little freaked out. I walked into the lobby without turning back, got my room key from the desk, and looked around. The guy was nowhere to be seen, on the sidewalk or otherwise. I went up to my room, texted Nayab, took the aforementioned extra-long shower, and went to bed.

Day Ten: dimanche le 25 avril (Sunday, 25 April)
Woke up and went down to breakfast, where the waitress remembered me from the morning before and brought me my orange juice without me having to ask. I texted the group and, after checking out, met up with Kelly, Amanda, and Nayab outside the Louvre. I sat with them as they ate breakfast on the lawn and then they headed in. Since I'd already seen the Louvre and only had until about 2 pm before I had to head off to the train station, I opted to stay outside, catching up on some reading for class, listening to music, and sunbathing. I headed to the train station around 2 pm, bought some lunch at Brioche Dorée (my favorite French food chain, hands down), accidently ran over my new shoes with my suitcase wheels, leaving ugly black marks on the cream colored canvas, did some French swearing over that, and then waited for my train. Once I got on, the trip passed pretty much without incident. I caught up on most of my school reading (if only I could say the same today), and read a few pages of Pride and Prejudice (I like to read it every spring and every summer...I'm a little behind on that this year.). Once I'd arrived back in Lyon I decided to make the 40 minute-hour long walk home rather than taking the metro, since a.) I'm frugal, and b.) it was a beautiful day, even hotter in Lyon than it had been in Paris. I got home, texted Jacques (my host brother) so I could get into the building (since I'd left the key at home to keep it from being stolen), avoided the hobo that sometimes hangs around outside, lugged my stuff up the stairs to the elevator (yes, you have to go up some stairs to get to the elevator. I don't really understand the logic of it, either), and then crashed in my room, exhausted but tan (yesssss!!!!!!!) and happy with my spring break (even if I still harbor resentment toward a certain island nation and its lava-spewing mountains).

And that's it, I think! Whew, it's almost 8 pm and I still haven't gotten any studying done today. I should probably go get on that. Or upload vacation pictures to facebook. One of the two. If I actually get anything constructive done, I can come back here and give a run-down of what's been going on since I got back (a dinner party, a football match, a karaoke bar, and Iron Man 2 all come into play), and then I'll be all caught up! =)

Ta!

One of my favorite pictures of the Eiffel Tower from this trip. But, yeah. Check out how far the second landing is from the top. Pretty far, right? Not nearly as close as it looked when I was actually ON the landing.

I've jampacked this post like WOW

So. I was traveling on spring break without internet for a week. (That's sort of a lie. All the McDonald's restaurants, or, as that say in French, "MacDo's," have free wifi. But my itouch has limited battery life.) Anyhoo, between dodgy internet and not having my battery charger with me, I couldn't do much in the way of blogging. Thus, here is an account of my spring break travel adventures.

Day One: vendredi le 17 avril (Friday, 17 April)
After class I attempt to "pack light." As usual, I fail. (It's all that girl-scouting "be prepared" nonsense. I've just about packed up when a little voice inside me is like, "What if your plane crashes in the jungle? Better bring bug spray, water purification tablets, and a machete. Good luck getting that through security, though.") Anyway, I ate an early dinner with the family (we usually eat between 8 and 9 and that night they ate at 6, just for me...they're so nice) and Corinne gave me a list of things to watch out for in Italy (pickpockets, pickpockets, being charged for bread and silverware in restaurants, pickpockets, and there was one more thing...oh. Pickpockets. Apparently they'll steal the ring right off your finger.). After that I gave them my house key (didn't want it to get stolen in Italy) and set off to meet Rachelle in Place Bellecour so we could walk to the train station and get the airport shuttle. Our flight didn't leave until the next morning at 7:10, but the airport shuttle doesn't run that early and a cab to the airport costs like 80 €, so we decided to just sleep at the airport. Which we did. First we checked the departures board. Despite the volcanic ash and a slew of flight cancellations, ours was unaffected. (SCORE!) We then went over to the airport hotel, went down to the fitness center, and sat on chaise lounges in the shower area (awk) to read Cosmo. If you ask me, the shower doors should have been a bit more opaque, but I guess when you sit on a lounge chair in the shower section you kind of get what you expect. Anyway, the staff lady that ran into us several times was very nice and pretended like she didn't know that we were totally freeloading (she talked to us like we were guests at the hotel although we clearly were not), and she only kicked us out of the fitness center at 11 when it closed, at which point we went up to the lobby and napped in their comfy chairs until like 1:30, when another kind staff member informed us that they needed to clear out the lobby for cleaning. We went back over to the airport, checked our flight (still on), and tried to find a place to sleep. Unfortunately all the food court booths and other prime sleeping spots had already been snapped up, and a guy had used the cafe chairs to make a bed. But we went up to the area outside a bar/restaurant on the second floor and found two cushioned(ish) benches all by themselves. No one else had apparently thought to try the second floor (SCORE AGAIN!). We went to bed around 2 and set our cell phone alarms for 5 am.

I can't say I slept well, considering I was sleeping in an airport and kept getting woken up and totally freaked out by a loud male voice (which was, each and every time, the announcement to remind people to watch their bags and report suspicious parcels to security). But all things considered, it wasn't that bad, and I was gonna be in ROME in less than 8 hours!

Day Two: samedi le 18 avril (Saturday, 18 April)
We woke up at 5, 5:30 and headed to the check-in area, only to pass a board where our flight status had been updated to a big fat red CANCELED. WHAT?! (ANTI-SCORE.) Turns out that at some point within our three hours of sleeping, they canceled all flights out of Lyon Saint-Exupery. And Paris. And Europe. Damn you, Iceland! Daaaammnnnnn yoooooouuuu!!!

We weighed our options. We could try to fly to Rome on Tuesday, but there was no guarantee that flights would be leaving by then and we didn't want to waste half of the break hanging around Lyon waiting for a flight that might or might not happen. (As it turns out, it didn't happen, so it was a good choice on our part.) This being the case, we hustled back to the train station to try and book a ticket to somewhere, anywhere. I waited in line while Rachelle checked the auto-ticket machines. She came back and said there were trains to Milan and Paris available. Milan? SCORE! We could just skip Rome and tour around Tuscany for spring break. Great! Wrong. We got to the ticket desk and the lady there informed us that the odds of the train to Milan actually going were slim on account of the national SNCF (railroad) strike. Damn you too, SNCF! Daaaammnnnnn yoooooouuuu!!!

We booked tickets to Paris (first class! - it was all that was left) as she said it was our best bet for a train that would actually function. And then we tried to figure out how to kill the time between then (8 or 9 am) and the train's departure (20h00). We went to the market in Lyon and bought cheese, bread, and fruit, then climbed up Fourvière and had a picnic brunch. Then we climbed back down, dropped our stuff at Rachelle's apartment (or, rather, her host mother's apartment) and went to Parc de la Tête d'Or. We relaxed in the sun (it was a gorgeous day) and I fell asleep (or so I assume, because Rachelle said I was snoring and I don't have any recollection of it). Rachelle decided to take a walk and I napped some more in the sun until I woke up from overheating. (I was still wearing jeans and a long-sleeved, FLANNEL shirt. Not the most fortunate choice of outfit for a 70-degree day.) Bored with just sitting around examining the contents of my purse and reading my passport, I walked over to the park's zoo and looked at the giraffes and some water birds for a little while before heading back to the spot we were in before, where Rachelle met up with me. We walked back to her place and relaxed there (her host mom had left us muffins and tea) before heading to the train station. The train surprisingly arrived on time with no problems, and we got to Paris on time. We headed straight to Rachelle's aunt and uncle's apartment, since they had kindly allowed us to stay with them. We got there and ate some fresh-baked cookies and I got to call home, since their calling plan makes free calls to North America. It was lovely.

Day Three: dimanche le 19 avril (Sunday, 19 April)
The next morning I slept in a bit (travel + stress = exhausting) and then accompanied Rachelle and her aunt to the Sunday morning market. Her aunt was really nice and asked me what kinds of veggies and cheese I liked, since I don't eat meat. It was really pleasant - I love the markets in France. We need more things like that in the US.

After the market, Rachelle brought me down to the train station and I took the train out to Versailles to meet up with some of my friends who were spending their breaks in Paris/stranded there because their flights were canceled. I was sooo psyched to see Versailles - it's been a dream of mine for years. And it didn't disappoint. The palace was beautiful and so were the grounds, which are so extensive that you literally cannot see where they end. We only got to walk through them a little bit before closing.

In the Hall of Mirrors (la galerie des Glaces) at Versailles.

The grounds at Versailles stretching on...and on...and on.

I got back later than I intended to Rachelle's aunt and uncle's and missed dinner, which I felt really bad about, especially since Rachelle's aunt had gone out of her way to make sure there was stuff for me to eat. They left food out for me, though, which was really nice of them, and the lentil salad Rachelle's aunt had made was SO GOOD.

Day Four: lundi le 20 avril (Monday, 20 April)
Rachelle really wanted to go to Normandy, so I decided to go with her. We went to the train station and waited in line forever to get a ticket for the 10:10 train to Caen. By 10:05, we were still waiting. At 10:07, Rachelle asked the lady in front of us if we could go ahead of her since we were pressed for time. She said yes, as did the lady in front of her. Now there was only one guy ahead of us, and he had to sympathetically decline our request, since he was trying to catch the same train. I started buying my ticket at 10:09. My credit card didn't work. I handed over my debit as quickly as possible and prayed that I wasn't overdrawing (and that it would actually work). It did. We ran like we were the next victims in a bad horror movie and managed to make it onto the train (which, praise Jesus, left four minutes late). As we stood in the compartment with two or three other last-minute passengers, we saw the guy from before. We all congratulated each other on our good luck and speedy running and then set off to find seats.

I really liked the way the train was set up. There was one aisle running down one side, along the windows, and then there were little compartment-type things on the other windowed wall, each consisting of eight seats (two rows of four facing each other) with a table between the two window seats. I liked it because it reminded me of old-timey trains like you see in movies, ones where the dashing hero or gorgeous heroine become involved in some kind of train murder-mystery caper in 1930s Great Britain or something. (Sometimes I think I'll never fully grow up, but that's okay. Playing pretend is wayyy too much fun.)

We got to Caen and asked some people where we could find the tourist office. "Down the street, to the left, behind the castle," is what we were told. I had to laugh because I mean, only in France would "behind the castle" be included in a set of directions. It sounds like a joke the locals play on the tourists, like how upperclassmen enjoy telling high school freshman to look for the swimming pool or that their classes are on the non-existent fourth floor or something. At any rate, we found the tourist office, ate lunch, got a hotel, and then took the bus to the Memorial de Caen, a really interesting museum about WWII, the Battle of Normandy, the Cold War, and just war and peace in general. They also had a temporary exhibit of political cartoons, all of which were very amusing:

"It's a cease-fire!"

We spent a lot more time in the museum than we realized, so we did a quick walk through the gardens (they were nothing super-special) and checked out the gallery of Nobel Peace Prize winners before taking the bus back to the town center, wandering around a bit, and treating ourselves out to dinner.

Day Five: mardi le 21 avril (Monday, 21 April)
The next morning we woke up early, ate the most delicious crêpes ever, and took the bus to Juno Beach, the beach in Normandy where the Canadians landed in WWII. It was freeeeeezing, especially since we only had lightweight cardigans with us (we'd packed for the weather in Italy, remember). While the morning was overcast and foggy, the sun came out around noon (or maybe a little bit before then) and it was gorgeous:

Juno Beach: I swear it was not as warm as it looks.

We had some time after that, so we went to Bayeux, which is known for its 900-year-old, 70-meter-long tapestry which tells the story of William the Conqueror's invasion of England. (They don't let you take pictures of that, though...understandably, the thing's literally as old as dirt. Well, some dirt.) Having learned all about William's grand journey to jolly old England and the jolly good time he had (spoiler alert!) shooting Harold, the wrongful king, in the eye with an arrow, we walked around Bayeux a bit before catching the train and heading back to Paris. That night, we met up with some Dartmouth girls studying in Paris and went out to a bar, but we had to cut the night short in order to take the metro home before it closed. Long story short, we still missed the metro and ended up walking all the way from Notre Dame back to the Eiffel Tower (which, if you've ever been to Paris, you'll recognize is a mighty long walk. And I was in going-out shoes. Hello, blisters. Nice to see you right at the beginning of my foot-travel-intensive vacation.). On the plus side, though, it was cool to see the city at night, and Rachelle pointed out a lot of sights to me, which was useful the next day...

Day Six: mercredi, le 22 avril
...as I walked around Paris on my own, exploring. Rachelle went on a day trip to another town, since she's been to Paris several times already (lucky her!) and the same old sites are getting a bit boring for her, I imagine.

Anyway, I walked from the Tour Eiffel (Eiffel Tower) to Hôtel des Invalides to Place de la Concorde, then through the Tuileries (formal gardens) to the Louvre, where I spent the afternoon walking around and taking an insane number of photos.

Obligatory picture of La Jocunde (the Mona Lisa). Don't be fooled; there was a GIANT crowd around me as I took this picture. But yeah, she's TINY.

The sculpture gallery, probably my favorite part aside from the Napoleon III apartments.

Outside the Louvre.

Day Seven: jeudi le 22 avril (Thursday, 22 April)
I pretty much did nothing of interest all day. Hung around the apartment until about 2 pm, when Rachelle left for the airport (she was going to Venice) and I went off in search of alternate lodging. I had a list of hotels I'd found online, but they were either impossible to find (and believe me, I looked and looked) or twice as much as they'd been advertised online. Fortunately, I found a hotel for 60 € a night. Still pretty expensive for just me, as 60 € was, at the time, just under $100 US. (The exchange rate is slightly more favorable this week. I don't know why, but I'm not questioning it.) At any rate, the hotel seemed a wee bit sketchy to me - not dirty or anything, but not clean. There was a hair in the shower. (It's not the hair itself that bothered me, but the fact that it meant the shower might not have been cleaned since The Shedder was there.) But I was too tired to care. I flopped down on the bed, fully intending to rest a minute and then head back out into the city. Ten minutes later, I decided to take a nap until 6:15 (it was around 5). At 6:15, I decided to extend the nap until 6:45. And at 6:45 I just admitted defeat, got under the comforter, and fell asleep. I woke up at 9, changed into my PJs, and went to bed for real, then slept until 10 the next morning. It was glorious.

Day Eight: vendredi le 23 avril (Friday, 23 April)
I headed out around 11 and decided to check out the Luxembourg Palace and Gardens. The gardens were not what I expected. I thought they would be all formal gardens, but most of it was actually a park with tennis courts, playgrounds, courts for boules (similar to bocce, I think), and souvenir/snack kiosks. Near the palace, there were formal gardens and a fountain, and I basked in the sun there for awhile before wandering off in the general direction, I hoped, of Notre Dame and the Pantheon.

Luxembourg Palace and some of the Gardens.

Luckily, I reached the Pantheon pretty easily. Originally constructed as a shrine to Saint Genevieve, Paris's patron saint, the Pantheon was secularized after the Revolution and is now the burial place for many of France's best and brightest; Voltaire, Rousseau, Emile Zola, Victor Hugo, the Curies, and many others are interred in the crypt under the Pantheon.

The interior of the Pantheon.

Once I'd walked around the Pantheon for awhile, I headed down Rue St-Jacques in the direction of Notre Dame, stopping every so often to check out things that looked interesting, like the garden at the Cluny Museum or a random church. When I got to Notre Dame, it looked different than I'd expected:

Notre Dame Cathedral

I hadn't expected it to be right on the river like that. And I dunno, I guess I thought it would be bigger. And I thought there would be stairs leading up to it. Although it's true that I'm basing all these assumptions on a Disney cartoon that I haven't seen in quite some time, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it's different from what I'd anticipated.

I walked around inside (it was free!) and then walked up to the roof (it was not free!). The roof was really cool; it had a great view of Paris and of the famous gargoyles that Notre Dame is known for. (Also unlike the Disney movie, these gargoyles did not sing, dance, and make wisecracks. Thanks, Disney, for bolstering the hopes of another generation so that reality falls short of film. Thanks.) They were still pretty cool, though:

Gargoyle at Notre Dame, with the Sacred Heart Basilica way off in the distance on the hill.

After Notre Dame, I took the metro to the Champs-Elysées (Paris's big shopping street) and walked up toward the Arc de Triomphe. I climbed up to the top of that, too (basically in Paris I just climbed to the top of lots of things):

The Arc de Triomphe. It was tough to get a good picture, what with its being located in the middle of a giant traffic circle and all.

View of the Champs-Elysées from the top of the Arc de Triomphe.

It was starting to get late-ish (it was around 7:30) and I wanted to get back to my hotel before dark, since I knew it was located in the general vicinity of the red-light district (although I'd yet to actually see the red-light district.) I took the metro back to Pigalle, which was closer to my hotel than the metro stop I'd been using previously, and it let me off - wouldn't you know it - in the red light district. A street full of sex shops, porno theaters, and peep shows stretched out before me. I almost turned on my heel and headed straight for the hotel, but it was still light out and there seemed to be plenty of non-sketchy people around (businesspeople, other single women, even a couple of families), so I decided to be daring and see if I could find the Moulin Rouge. It was actually almost too easy - straight down the street, one block (and one metro stop) away.

It's actually probably the classiest establishment on the street, apart from Monoprix (a supermarket chain) and McDonald's...which is kind of sad.

Having taken my pictures, I started to get the heebie-jeebies a little bit - I mean, I still felt safe, but I didn't quite feel comfortable - a girl can only take so much leering and weird noises directed at her before she starts to feel a bit iffy. So I went back to the hotel and went to bed.

And that's all for now. I realize that I'm behind and still have two days left to recount for spring break, but I'm absolutely exhausted and really should go to bed. I have a whole free(ish) weekend coming up, though, and hopefully I can get all caught up then. Until next time...!

Further adventures and blog-related demands

Arg. Another day, another pastry. I'm legitimately getting fat. And yet, almost all the French people I've met are not only not fat, but skinnier than the average person. It's a mystery to me. (And I'm not the only one.) This Wikipedia article claims, however, that "Americans [tend] to lose weight while visiting [France]." Um, WRONG. I guess this is why you can't believe everything you read on Wikipedia.

At any rate, in the title of this post I promised adventures. And here they are:

On Saturday, I unfortunately slept in until noon (...thirty) because I'd been up until 3:30 in the morning doing absolutely nothing after having returned around 1:45 from a girls' night with Kelly and Amanda at Amanda's apartment, which consisted of us eating, scrambling to complete various time-sensitive tasks, and watching Pride and Prejudice. Anyway, after a slightly sketchy walk home (a guy drove slowly alongside me with his window open for about a block...I pretended not to see him whilst maintaining a death grip on the whistle Maria and Cynthia gave me as a going-away present for "scaring off the gypsies"), I made it back to the apartment and really just killed time while continually telling myself to get some sleep. I finally listened to me, but I was too late, thus the waste of a beautiful Saturday morning.

This story gets happier, though, I swear! I met up with Kelly, Amanda, and Laura, and we walked around the city in search of a bio-restaurant Kelly had heard about. We finally found it but discovered that they didn't do take-out for lunch, so we resolved to come back some other time and instead headed off for le Parc de la Tête d'Or, since it was a perfect day for relaxing outside:

Kelly, Laura, and Amanda (and me, haha) at the park.

We spent a couple hours at the park lying out in the sun (I have the faint beginnings of a tan!) and watching the antics of some nearby children before strolling back toward Place Bellecour, taking in all the sights of this gorgeous afternoon.

Bridge across the Rhône to the Presqu'île around 5 pm.

I had thought about going out Saturday night with my friends (not anything big...just a movie or something), but since mes parents were away for the weekend and mon frère was out for the evening, I decided to stay home and take advantage of the empty house to Skype with Jessalyn. (I feel bad Skyping when ma famille is here because, due to the time difference, Skyping always has to happen rather late at night, and everyone else here goes to bed fairly early. I don't want to disturb them.) Anyway, it was nice to spend a nice quiet evening at the apartment, although I still stayed up too late. Oh, well.

On Sunday, we (the group) had planned a picnic for lunch. The idea was to meet in Place Bellecour with everyone bringing something to contribute to the meal, and then walk either to the river or the park to eat. However, we ended up hanging around Place Bellecour for quite awhile waiting for everyone to arrive.

While we were waiting, we watched a group of students walk up to the statue in Place Bellecour, singing songs. We remarked on its being a little out of the ordinary and watched them with amusement for a little while. A few minutes later, we were talking about something else when a couple of guys from the group came over and explained that they were doing a scavenger hunt for the program they were traveling with and they needed a picture with some Lyon girls (I guess we qualified). Would we help them out? they wanted to know. "Sure," we said. The next thing I knew, one of the guys had taken my arm and steered me over toward the other guy, and was like, "Oh yeah, you guys have to kiss so we can get 100 points."

And I was like, "WHAT NOW?!" Because kissing strangers on the street is not one of my top five pastimes. It's like number seven. Eight, maybe.

I jest, of course. But still, I was pretty surprised. It was not how I had expected to spend my afternoon.

But still, they were pretty nice and the guy was pretty easy on the eyes and I mean, it would get them a whole 100 points. So I did it. I'm proud of myself. I think you'll agree it's an excellent story (unless I told it wrong).

After this brief detour from my usual character, we decided to accept the group's invitation for us to join them as they went sight-seeing and completed their tour around Lyon. (But first, Kelly sang "I Will Survive" with them in front of the statue.) It was pretty cool to meet other students (they were all, I guess, engineering students involved in a travel program on their spring break) from all over Europe. I spent a good chunk of time talking to a girl from Belgium, and there were people from Russia, Portugal, France, Germany, and other countries.

We walked around the city completing tasks (such as doing some kind of weird line-dance thing in the middle of a pedestrian street), and we visited the Cathédrale St-Jean in Vieux Lyon. (I still haven't gotten to see the 700-year-old clock do its thing. I did, however, get a couple of good pictures.)

Statue, undoubtedly of a saint or someone with better morals than I, in Cathédrale St-Jean.

After the Cathédrale I returned home to do some work, although this meant that I apparently missed the crowd-surfing that happened immediately thereafter. (Kelly told me about it and I saw pictures.) I went back home, cleaned my room, and then spent a lot of time putting off doing my reading by thinking of other "constructive" things to do. Finally I could avoid it no longer, and I spent the rest of the night reading. Haha, that's a lie. I did do some reading, but it was broken up by checking facebook, checking blitz (Dartmouth's email system), checking my email, eating another delicious dinner avec ma famille, watching two segments of a French TV show with Corinne, and chatting with four people at once. (Don't ever say I can't multitask.)

Monday was pretty ho-hum. Mondays are long in terms of class time (but not as long as Tuesdays...I'm exhausted). I did some errands after school and then went avec mes parents to the Welcome Dinner (which was actually aperitifs and hors d'oeuvres), which was fun. It was cool seeing all the parents and students together, and it was also interesting to see the profs outside of school, especially our two Lyonnais professors: Mme. Villard is adorable and M. Bonivard is kind of a goofball. They're awesome.

I do feel a little bad, though, because when we introduced our host parents a lot of people used adjectives to say how great their families were. Of course, no one told me beforehand that we'd have to introduce our parents, or I would have thought of something nice to say, too, because Corinne and Philippe are wonderful and super-nice, but my lack of confidence in speaking French combined with a touch of natural shyness meant that I was just like, "My name is Renée. I live with Corinne and Philippe. I'm from Massachusetts." The end. I hope they know that it's not for lack of sentiment that I wasn't gushier, but lack of vocabulary.

At any rate, I stayed up until almost 1 in the morning finishing the reading I'd put off (and cursing Past Me for having done so). This morning I woke up at 8, started class at 9:15, and apart from an hour-long lunch break at 11 (during which I schlepped all the way over to Place Bellecour to take care of spring break travel stuff at SNCF), didn't leave the university until 15:45. That's a loooooong day, let me tell you. Luckily, Tuesdays are the longest day of the week, so it's all easier from here on out. And then on Saturday morning I'm flying with Rachelle to ROME for SPRING BREAK!

Our original plans had been to take the train to Milan on Saturday, but fate had to mess with things: there was no cheap (or even remotely inexpensive) lodging available in Milan that night, and traveling on to another town was out of the question since our train would arrive in the evening anyway. We finally decided to fly to Rome instead. We booked the flight this weekend and exchanged our tickets today for tickets back from Milan (to Chambery, where we'll spend Saturday night before traveling back to Lyon on Sunday). Our travel plans are subject to change, but right now we're looking at this: Saturday, Sunday, and Monday in Rome (our flight leaves Lyon around 7 am and gets to Rome around 8, so we have pretty much an entire day there), Tuesday maybe at a beach (it's supposed to rain on Tuesday, OF COURSE. So these plans are, as I said, changeable.) Wednesday, heading up to Florence. Taking a side trip to Venice at some point, and probably seeing the Lakes District before getting to Milan on Saturday for the train back. It's a lot of stuff and we probably won't have time to do it all, but I guess I'd rather have lots of things to choose from than travel to a boring place. (Although, is there really such a thing in Europe?)

I am a little bummed that I won't be making it to Santorini while I'm in Europe, though. The prices of flights after this week skyrocket, so money-wise I just don't think it's doable. =( I'll see Santorini someday, though. I WILL.

In other travel news, Laura has proposed and researched a trip to Bordeaux at the end of May. It sounds like a lot of fun, and it will be easy on the wallet, too - the round-trip flight, accommodations, and wine tour only total about 160 € (just under $220 US). I mean, that's really not bad at all.

I still need to figure out what to do for the four-day weekend in May (yay, Ascension!). Anyone have ideas/suggestions/requests that I visit a specific place as you attempt to live vicariously through me?

Which brings me to the blog-related demand of the title. Comment! One of the main reasons I keep this blog is to keep in touch with everyone, and it's no use keeping in touch with you guys if I don't even know you're reading it. It's like writing letters and never sending them.

So, yeah. Start sending! =)

Time to eat the chocolate rabbit Mareike gave me for Easter. It's been staring at me all afternoon.

Man, I'm gonna get FAAATTTTTT...

A second birthday celebration, a long walk, and a lazy afternoon

I am un peu fatiguée and therefore I think a straightforward approach will be best for this entry, lest I ramble off into incoherency. So:

A second birthday celebration (the first one being, of course, my bar adventure)

If you can call it an adventure, that is. For most people, it was just a normal evening out. For me, though, the Princess of Non-Drinkers, it was quite an adventure.

Anyway, as I mentioned before, Corinne had a birthday dinner for me. Caroline came over around 7:45 and we all started on aperitifs, or before-dinner drinks. (Apparently people in America use this word also, so please forgive me if I'm explaining an already-obvious concept. But I'd never really heard the term before.) Anyway, Professor Tarnowski, the Dartmouth prof in charge of the program (my French literature prof) came a little bit later and we continued to sit and have drinks for awhile. I tried to follow the conversation but it's still a little difficult. When people are talking to me it's easier for me to understand; usually they'll slow down and enunciate a bit more, which is great. But I have a really hard time following the conversations of others because they talk so fast and, with speed, the words all run together (as they do in any language).

After Jacques (my host brother) got home, we had dinner, which was delicious, as always. I don't know if I've ever stated explicitly what a great cook Corinne is, but if I haven't, let me do so now. She's awesome. I don't think she's ever cooked a bad meal. We had a cheese souffle and salad with tomatoes, avocados, and olives (which I avoided whenever possible...I would say I dislike olives, but that's not quite true. The truth is that I detest olives probably more than any other other food on the planet, and I include most meats in that statement. But anyway.).

After dinner we had cheese, like usual - camembert, Roquefort, and one other type of blue cheese, and then my host family brought out a chocolate cake with two candles. ("One for each decade," Corinne said.) Everyone sang "Joyeux Anniversaire" and then we ate cake. And it was awesome. I had more for dessert tonight. Seriously, it was really fudgy and delicious. I could eat this cake for the rest of my life.

After cake, I got presents! It was sooo sweet of everyone. Prof. Tarnowski gave me a really pretty blue scarf, which I wore today. (I love the color and I didn't bring any scarves with me, so it was perfect!) Caroline brought me a bag of chocolates from a nice chocolatier and some yellow roses, which she helped my cut and arrange in a vase. And my host family gave me a candle and a nice card, along with a flat wire "wreath" of sorts which you hang on the wall and use to hold pictures. "All you need is a little nail," Corinne said, "and you can hang it up in your room." She said they'd noticed how many pictures I have in my room, so they gave it to me to display them, which I thought was super-sweet. And, as Corinne pointed out, it will be an easy thing to take back to the States with me.

All in all, I had a wonderful couple of days of birthday celebrations, although I really did miss seeing all my family and friends at home.

A long walk

This is pretty self-explanatory, but whatever. After school today, we decided to go to SNCF to make some travel arrangements for spring break (Italy!). I don't know why we went all the way to the SNCF near Parc de la Tête d'Or (a 40 minute walk from the university) when there's a very nice SNCF right on Place Bellecour, but whatever. It wasn't a bad walk and we stopped at a patisserie/chocolatier on the way. (I got some quiche. Quiche over here is soooo much better than quiche in the US. Pizza, on the other hand, is not nearly as good.) At any rate, I didn't feel like walking all the way back by myself, so I took the metro and got off at the stop closest to my house, after which I "explored the neighborhood" (read: somehow managed to get lost) between the metro station and my house. (The problem was that I always just head for the river, because as long as I'm on the Presqu'île I know that if I head for the Saône I can find the apartment practically in my sleep. However, the metro station is stationed pretty much in the middle of the Presqu'île, so when I got out, I was turned-around and headed for the first river I saw, which happened to be the Rhône. Oh, well.) I found a really cool-looking antique store in my travels, though. I'll have to head back there some other time. (I didn't go in today because it opened at 15h30 and when I was looking in the windows it was 15h30 on the dot and I wasn't sure if they were actually open yet.) The window displays were ridiculously awesome, though, and the store (from what I could see) was literally crammed full of silverware, costume jewelry, cameo brooches, serving dishes, etc...a good place to find little treasures. =)

A lazy afternoon

After my long walk and voyage of discovery, I returned to my room with the full intention of starting my reading for next week and then just giving in to the sleepiness that would inevitably arise from such an activity instead of just powering through. However, I remembered that I missed last week's episode of Bones and that, while hulu actually doesn't work in Europe, that Dartmouth has a program that changes one's IP address to make it look like you're in America; thus, I spent the afternoon catchin' up on mah stories. The 100th episode of Bones is tonight, but I won't get to see it until tomorrow evening, what with the time it takes to get posted online after airing on TV and the time difference and my classes. Oh, well. Thank God for Dartmouth and its nifty little technical loopholes.

And now I am going to bed because I am exhausted. Too much excitement in this past week. (I still don't think I've recovered from last weekend's adventures in the south. This weekend, I'm sticking around, though, although I may not be much less busy than I was last weekend. Weekend plans include: going to this French bio-food expo that Kelly discovered, having a potluck picnic on the river with some of my classmates then checking out one of the clubs located on a boat on the river, and possibly making the long trek to le Parc de la Tête d'Or to walk around, relax, and possibly visit the free zoo there. (I don't like to pay for zoos since I'm not sure if I really support them, but since it's free I don't feel too bad about it.)

And now I'm off to bed...too late once again, I fear. Hopefully I can catch up on some sleep this weekend.

Bon anniversaire à moi

So today I turned 20! No longer a teenager, nope, nope, nope. I feel like I somehow now command more respect. (Just let me have my little fantasy, mmkay?)

I just got back in after going out with some of my friends in the group tonight. We went to a bar (American...yay!) in Vieux Lyon and hung out for a couple hours (it really cleared out after the football - soccer for all you American football lovers - match was over). I got a drink to celebrate (the drinking age here is 16), and I remembered two of the main reasons I don't generally drink: 1. I don't really like the taste of alcohol (the drink was rum, OJ, pineapple juice, and grenadine, and it would have been PERFECT without the rum), and 2. it's freaking expensive. That one drink (which was maybe 1 and 3/4 cups, tops) was 7 € ($9). Yikes. It's Coca-Cola for me from here on out.

Anyway, my whole day was very nice. My classmates sang happy birthday to me when I got to school this morning, and Marielle (our TA) gave me a really delicious brioche. When I got home this afternoon, Mareike, the super-nice German exchange student who is also living here now, gave me a magnet from Paris (she went this weekend) and a little note written on an art nouveau postcard (coincidentally, she picked my favorite art nouveau design of all time: Le Chat Noir.) It was sooooo nice of her. She also gave me a little chocolate pastry/cake and lit a candle on top for me. I blew it out and then promptly dropped the cake but proceeded to eat it anyway. It was delicious.

Other than that, it's been a pretty low-key day. Classes lasted forever, but we don't really have any tomorrow; we have a group "outing" to a museum, possibly followed by lunch. This doesn't start until 10:40, so I have a little time to sleep in (which is why we all went out tonight).

This weekend, I'm gonna stick around Lyon and hopefully spend some time visiting and relaxing in le Parc de la Tête d'Or, as well as maybe spending a night out in one of the bars-on-a-boat-on-the-river things that they've got going on over here (drinking Coke, natch. I'm not made of money). But for now, I'm going to bed. I was going to try to get a little work done, but it's 1:30 in the morning and it's my birthday (well, technically not anymore, but you know what I mean). Reading be darned.

Crazy ACTION-PACKED weekend adventures

Well, hello there. It's Monday night, I have to finish some schoolwork (including hand-writing a page-long response to my reading, Camus's "L'hôte"), but since my weekend was, as the title of this entry suggests, JAM-PACKED with ACTION and ADVENTURE, I wanted to get it out there before I forget it all. (Also, for the first time, I'm going to post pictures here before I post them on facebook. Blog readers, prepare to feel all privileged and exclusive and whatnot.)

Anyway, we ended up getting out of class a bit early on Friday (at noontime instead of 13:45) so I had plenty of time to return to the apartment and deposit my stuff from class before our 15:24 train to Arles. After that, I spent a fair amount of time trekking around the city with my overnight bag trying to remember how to get to Gare de Lyon Part-Dieu (the train station). Eventually I made it to the café where Kelly and Amanda, my fellow travelers, were sitting outside having lunch with some of our classmates. I bought a pizza from the boulangerie next door only to discover that it was not vegetarian (I thought it tasted like ham; the meat-eaters in the group who ate it after I offered it to them told me it was salmon. I haven't eaten meat for like 8 years, though, so what do I know?) Anyway, I finally managed to get quiche, a lemon tart, and some Orangina from across the street, so it all worked out okay.

We caught the train to Arles with no problems. The countryside on the way down was beautiful - picturesque towns perched on hills by the river, newly-planted fields stretching out to the horizon, clumps of barely-green trees flying past the windows. We arrived in Arles three hours later and were immediately thrown into the midst of Feria, or the Easter Festival. Arles goes absolutely nuts during this time, with extra bullfights, a carnival, lots of music, and tons of food. We walked around and immediately saw the ancient Roman arena where bullfights are still held today. It was smack-dab in the middle of the city and pretty un-missable:

The ancient Roman arena located in the center of Arles

After that, we set off to look for a restaurant Kelly had read about as being vegetarian/vegan-friendly (a big draw for us, since I'm vegetarian, Kelly's vegan, and Amanda's open-minded). We finally found it after circling around for quite awhile (which ended up being a common theme of our time in Arles). All the restaurants were cooking giant pans of paella outside in the street, and ours was no exception; the man cooking offered us some little shellfish from the paella, but what with our dietary quirks Amanda was the only one who took him up on his offer. We got dinner (and I got my first sangria - it was very different from what I'd expected, as there was cinnamon in it) and ate it sitting on the wall of a fountain in the square. Afterwards, we walked around Arles for awhile, admiring the scenery (gardens, churches, carnival, Roman theatre ruins) and cheerfully embracing the sketchiness ("Americans! You are welcome!" - random guy in group full of random guys) until we almost got pickpocketed (we think), at which point we didn't enjoy it quite so much.

At any rate, around 8:30 or 9:00 we started to search for the youth hostel we were staying at for the night, and our search took us past Les Alyscamps, an old burial ground just outside of Arles. There was a large crowd gathered at the gates, which was a little out of the ordinary because Les Alyscamps closes at night. We were standing nearby wondering what was going on when a woman came up to us and explained half in French, half in English that they were about to pray a vigil on account of its being Good Friday. She invited us to join them, which we debated for a little while, not wanting to be disrespectful and intrude, and also not wanting to have to leave early and interrupt the procession. When we explained that the curfew for the hostel was 11, the woman told us that we could leave early if we needed to, and that all we had to do was tell her and she'd open the gate for us and let us out. "It'll be an interesting experience," we decided, and we joined the group. It was pretty cool. We sang with the rest of the group and there were readings about the Passion as we prayed the Stations of the Cross. We left about five stations in to get to the hostel, and the man who ended up letting us out pointed us in the right direction.

We made it to the hostel, got our sheets, and made up our beds. Towels for the shower cost 50 cents, so we actually split one towel between the three of us, each paying a grand total of about 17 cents (yay for penny-pinching!). The room at the hostel was actually not bad at all, and we had it to ourselves for awhile until two Italian girls joined us. They went out again almost immediately though, so we had the room all to ourselves until we went to bed.

Our room at l'auberge de jeunesses (the youth hostel)

The next morning we woke up very early in the hopes that we could catch the bus to Le Parc Ornithologique de Pont de Gau, a bird park in the Camargue (the region of France around the Rhône river delta). We ran literally all the way across the city to the train station (where the bus supposedly left from) only to read on a sign that the stop was now in front of the Monoprix (a supermarket chain) down the street. We ran to the Monoprix, where another lady waiting for the bus told us we wanted to be back at the train station. We said no, we'd just come from there. The bus driver then told us we wanted to be at Clemencau, in the middle of the city. We headed for Clemencau and promptly got lost and had to ask some street-sweepers for directions. They were really nice and just walked us there. But because it was Feria, the Clemencau stop was closed. We finally figured out that the stop we wanted was actually only about a 5 minute walk from our hostel, and that we had just run around for half an hour for nothing. Needless to say, we missed the bus, but it ended up being all right, since we were up early enough to spend all morning at the open-air market (which only takes place on Saturdays). We got some breakfast and strolled around, browsing and occasionally buying things. I bought the best-smelling tea in the world from a spice-and-tea stand.

Tea at the market. The one I bought is in the front row, six from the left (almost out of frame). It's green and blue and awesome.

After the market, we visited a few of the sights in Arles, including Espace Van Gogh, a former hospital where the artist stayed that is now a museum dedicated to his work (I think that's the story, anyway), the church and cloister of St. Tromphime, a couple of art galleries, and the remains of some Roman public baths. We got some ice cream at a place called Soleileis, which Amanda's guidebook had recommended as having the most interesting flavors in Arles. (I got "fagoli" - honey, nougatine, and olive oil. It was pretty good, too.) They had sorbet, too, so Kelly was able to have some dessert as well. After that, Kelly and I dropped Amanda off at the Corrida (bullfight) and went to a café, where we sat for two hours resting our feet, doing some reading (Kelly), and taking advantage of the free wifi (me, using Kelly's ipod). We arrived to pick up Amanda from the Corrida just in time to watch the dead bull get dragged out of the arena by its horns (ewwwww) and to see the bullfighters leave the arena being begged for autographs by adoring fans, which led us to wonder: what do bullfighters do when they're not bullfighting? They have celebrity status so I'm sure they make excellent money - definitely enough to live on - but, as Kelly said, "Do they just go around Europe traveling from ancient arena to ancient arena?" It's a mystery.

We picked up Amanda, got food, walked around, got more food, and then went back to the hostel for the night, exhausted from our early morning. We went to bed before midnight and got up early (once again) to go to the Camargue. This time we actually made it to the bus in time, and we arrived at the bird park about 20 minutes before it opened. We spent the time walking around the fairly deserted stretch of road on which the park was situated, watching some water birds in the surrounding marsh lands (we'd already seen some flamingos - which are native to the Camargue - from the bus) and watching a dog "herd" horses on a nearby farm. We got into the park just as it opened and started walking. We weren't very far along the trail when the man walking up ahead of us whistled and yelled something to us in French. We couldn't figure out what was going on until we realized he was trying to show us this:

Mystery creature at the bird park.

I thought it was a muskrat but that idea was soundly denounced by everyone else present (including some British tourists), since they all said it was some sort of beaver. While we were watching, another one jumped right out of the water and ambled right past us, not seeming to care that we were there. It was pretty cool.

Also cool were the flamingos. I'd expected to only see a few, and probably from a distance, but they were EVERYWHERE, and they were LOUD.

Me and only a few of the flamingos we saw.

We went through maybe only one-third or half the park, since we really wanted to get to Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer (on the Mediterranean) before we continued on to Avignon. So after some debate about how best to get there (there was no bus during the time we wanted), we started walking. We had been assured by the woman in the tourism office in Arles that the walk was "very easy," only about 2 kilometers. WRONG. The walk from the park to Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer is actually 5 kilometers (just over three miles), which gave rise to all kinds of other adventures. Upon fianlly arriving, we headed straight for the Mediterranean, which was a bit underwhelming in the the clouds and drizzle, although on the beach we did get to chat a bit with an American couple from Wisconsin (and I put my feet in the Mediterranean!)

It was a tad chilly. And there was a spot on my camera lens, apparently.

We walked around a little and got lunch at one of the many restaurants near the sea before catching the bus back to Arles to get the train to Avignon. And, I kid you not, literally as soon as we got to the bus stop the sun came out and the town was bright and sunny and beautiful. I bet the Mediterranean wasn't underwhelming then.

We arrived in Arles in late afternoon and promptly discovered that the YMCA where we had reservations was waaaayyy outside of town. In lieu of trekking all the way there/being a slave to the bus schedule, we decided instead to just fork over a few Euros and stay at a cheap hotel in town. We found one, Hôtel du Park, a block or two away from the tourism office, and, not feeling like running around comparing prices, just booked a room there. (75 € altogether for the three of us - not bad.) We were a little concerned about what the quality of the room would be, since the reception area was rather dark and smelled like stale cigarettes, but the room was actually very cute and bright. We dropped off our stuff, changed into clothes that were more weather-appropriate (it had warmed up a lot since the morning), and headed out into Avignon. The first thing we did was visit the Palais des Papes (Popes' Palace), which was, to say the least, intense:

Not a very good picture, but to conserve my camera battery I'd shut off the viewer screen, which made centering, etc. pretty difficult.

We toured the palace and got dinner afterwards after searching for a vegetarian restaurant Kelly had heard about. (It was unfortunately closed due to its being Easter.) We ate at another place in town and then went to a place called Festival des Glaces to get tea and chocolates (Kelly), some hot chocolate (Amanda), and chocolate ice cream (me). We chilled there for awhile before going back to the hotel room, where we read and did homework for awhile before going to bed early.

We slept in this morning (until like 9:00...heaven!) and then headed out to a couple museums - the Musée Lapidaire, a museum of archaeological finds from Greece, Egypt, and the Roman Empire, and then to Musée Calvet, an art museum located in a renovated 18th-century mansion. After that, we visited the bridge commonly known as the Pont d'Avignon, which was largely destroyed by floods in the 1600s. As per French tradition, we sang the Pont d'Avignon song and danced on the bridge, despite the fact that we were all wearing skirts and the wind was super-intense.

A few minutes before setting foot on the Pont d'Avignon. You can get an idea of how windy it was by looking at our hair. (Well, my hair.)

After the Pont d'Avignon, we ate some lunch and got some more ice cream before catching the train back to Lyon at 16:12. And now I'm back in my room, in Lyon, wearing clothes that I haven't been wearing, in some form or another, for the past three days. (It's lovely.) I really do need to be getting down to work on my journal response, though, so I'd better wrap this up. Until tomorrow (which is my birthday, I just realized now), au revoir!

View of Avignon from the top of the Palais des Papes

In which je fais une promenade

Okay. The plan is to make this a quick one, because it's already 11 and I really want to get to bed fairly...on time so that I'm not too tired tomorrow, because immediately after class I'm heading to the south of France! Unfortunately, the forecast calls for a fair amount of rain this weekend and cooler temperatures than we'd originally been promised, but, hey, I'm still going to the south of France, so I guess I should stop complaining.

Today was good. After class got out at 13:45, I planned to go pick up my train ticket at the SNCF boutique on Place Bellecour. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to make note of my confirmation number after ordering online, so I had to schlep back to the apartment first. It turned out to not be such a bad thing, since I took the opportunity to move everything I needed to my purse so I didn't have to lug my giant schoolbag around.

Anyway, I went to the SNCF boutique and picked up my ticket. After that, I found a bookstore with a TON of English books on Place Bellecour. (As I was standing in there, staring at the familiar titles of crappy mass-market paperbacks, all I could think was, "I WOULD find an English bookstore in France.") Anyway, after that I went over to Amanda's apartment for a little trip planning with Amanda and Kelly. Some of the other people in the group were there also, planning for spring break; I didn't stay long because I'm not planning on traveling with them. They're going north, probably to Prague, Paris, and Germany (or some combination of the three). I want to head south. I'd love to see Santorini, and I'd also enjoy Italy, I think. We're trying to figure out right now if Santorini is possible, but Italy looks like a go. Yay!

After I left Amanda's, I went in search of a place to cash my traveler's checks. After trying two banks, I was directed to the Bureau de Change. I swear, when I found it it was like finding water in the desert. I was like, "Thank God." Now that I know where it is, it's really easy to find. And the guy who worked there was also named René. He told me so when he saw my ID. I think I should make friends with him. I do still have like 7 checks to cash in.

I celebrated my newly cash-filled wallet by buying some postcards: three to send home to Mom and Dad, Tracey, and Jess, and like a billion for my ever-more-disorganized postcard collection. My errands completed, I walked back through Vieux Lyon (Old Lyon), stopping to admire the view (which I had to climb a huge, steep staircase to see):

The view from partway up Fourvière Hill: Eglise St Paul, the Saone River, and the Presqu'île

...or poking around in a couple churches that caught my fancy:

The interior of Eglise St Paul, the steeple of which is visible in the previous picture.

The interior of the 12th century* basilica about a block from the apartment. *It says 12th century, but it doesn't look 12th century to me. But what do I really know about Middle Ages architecture?

I really like Vieux Lyon. It's very peaceful (for a city) and very quaint and pretty. My host mother told me that it's inhabited by a lot of artists and bohemian types, and that it's also home to a pretty large gay community. I just wanna say that I think they all have the right idea. I'd live there too, if I could. I mean, why wouldn't you want to see this every day? :

Vieux Lyon, near Eglise St Paul

And seriously, that's not even the most picturesque part. Not by a long shot. I actually wandered into some rather sketch areas of Vieux Lyon today. But obviously I made it out alive and with my wallet intact, so not to worry.

Seriously, though, walking around the city today I felt so confident, probably the most confident I've felt since I got here. I dunno if it was the fully French conversations I had with the people I encountered in the SNCF boutique, the bank, the exchange office, and the newsstand (sure, I didn't say much. But I said it in French!), the way I knew how to get around the city, the way I could just pop in and out of side streets without fear of getting lost, or what, but it was a great feeling. It felt so good to head back to the apartment, walking happily along, smelling the delicious scent of a boulangerie and feeling the sun on my back and hearing the familiar sounds of the city. The only way I could have felt more French was if I had a beret on my head and a baguette under my arm. (And, you know, some degree of competence in the language. But let's not split hairs.)

And now I think it's time for bed. I'm still maintaining the fantasy that I'll get some work done tonight, so off I go.

Blah, blah, blah, France.

Today. An interesting day, today. It started out overcast, like pretty much every other day has so far, but by the time we finished classes at 13:45 (1:45 pm) it was gorgeous - warm and sunny. I'll even stick a picture as per reader request. (Hi, Mom.)

(The view from my balcony, looking up the River Saone)

After class, we went to the SNCF store (it's pretty much like a travel agency) to pick up our TGV tickets to Arles, and then we went off to find some chocolate, particularly chocolate fish, since tomorrow's April Fool's Day and fish are a symbol of the day. Apparently you're supposed to try to pin paper fish on other people's backs. I really hope no one pins one on me, because I won't know how to react (en français) and that makes for great awkwardness potential.

Anyhoo, we went to a chocolatier on Place Bellecour, the big square in the middle of the Presqu'île (the part of Lyon on the peninsula between the Rhone and the Saone...the name means "almost island"). I didn't get any chocolate fish, but I did get a truffle-y thing with praline in the middle. And, oh, yeah, it was BLUE. If you stick a blue truffle in a chocolate case, I'm pretty much gonna buy it, if for no other reason than the fact that it's BLUE. Seriously. Who can pass on oddly-colored candy?

At any rate, when I got home this afternoon around, I don't know, maybe 3:30, I was the only one in the apartment. It was kind of nice. Don't think that I don't like my host family; it was just nice to relax without having to be ready to think or speak in French at any moment. (Something a lot of people on the program have mentioned is how tiring it is - you never really get to relax because you're constantly trying to do everything in a different language; your brain is constantly working. It's sort of like doing homework all the time.) At any rate, I had been thinking of going for a jog since it was so nice out but I decided to take advantage of the empty house instead. And by "take advantage" I mean: admire the view, clean my room, listen to some music, and start on my reading for tomorrow. Exciting stuff, no?

By evening everyone was home, and I was happily distracted from studying by Brune, my host parents' six (seven?)-year-old granddaughter. She came into my room and poked through my stuff a bit. She really liked my mascara and wanted to put it on, so I put a little bit on the very tips of her eyelashes. (When I was little and I played with makeup, no one would ever put mascara on me because it so easy to get it in your eyes and have it sting. I thus grew up thinking of mascara as some kind of evil, painful thing, and when I finally started wearing it, I was like, "Oh hey, no big deal. Why did everyone make such a fuss about it?" And then a kid asked me to put it on her, and all I could think was, "Don't get it in her eye. Don't get it in her eye. Don't get it in her eye." It was a little nerve-wracking.)

Anyway, she was also really fascinated by my Neutrogena Wave Cleanser (no product placement intended), a little plastic thingy that vibrates to help get deep into your pores (or so the ad says). She washed her checks with it and then washed mine, and promptly freaked out because she realized that I have zits (or, as she calls them in English, "buttons") and was afraid that using the Neutrogena would give her zits, too. I told her she was too young to worry about that. Nevertheless, we rinsed her face off about six times.

After that, she played with my computer some more while I got some more work done. (We spoke English to each other, because when I speak French, she says she can't understand my accent. It was nice of her to say so, since the real reason she can't understand me is because I speak the worst French on the planet. But whatever. She did compliment me on my very nice English-speaking accent, however.)

After dinner, she spent a good chunk of time trying to scare me (and getting frustrated that "you're just being funny scared. You need to be real scared.") and having me try to scare her. ("You didn't scare me.") Then she played with the computer some more and Olympe, the youngest, wrote some random letters on my French literature syllabus (the first piece of looseleaf I had handy to give her). We watched three big boats go down the river. It looked like there were parties on all three; one was all lit up with teal neon lights. ("It's shiny!" Brune gasped in delight.) The two of them went to bed, I finished my reading, booked a return ticket to Lyon from Avignon, changed into my PJs, and sat down to do a little blogging. Or a lot, I guess, considering the length of this entry so far.

In other news, Corinne, my host mother, is planning a birthday dinner for me next Wednesday night (the day after my birthday). It's sooo sweet of her. She invited Professor Tarnowski, the Dartmouth prof in charge of our trip, and told me I could invite one friend, so I invited Caroline, my travel buddy. I'm looking forward to it. I'm also looking forward to doing something birthday related with the group - going out to dinner or something - since Rachelle's birthday is the day before mine and there was talk of doing a combined birthday celebration. I dunno, I guess we'll see. Either way, I'll have to find a bank or something soon - I'm down to like 20 € and I need to cash in more traveler's checks. (I only cashed one at the airport. I don't know what I was thinking. A $100 traveler's check only got me about 66 €. I guess I just wanted to get out of there so I could go crash at the hostel. But still. Bad decision, Past Me.)

Well, I should get off to bed. Class starts at 9:15 tomorrow and it's nearly midnight. I'm gonna look through my French guidebook for stuff to do in Arles and Avignon, read a chapter of my book (it was sooo hard to stop after one chapter last night, but I did it!), and then zonk out. I'm exhausted.

Dear Lord, I love the English language.

So. Today. C'etait pas mal. But it certainly wasn't good either.

Class lasted forever. FOREVER. We got there at ten and didn't leave until quarter of four, except for our hour-long lunch break. I went with five other people to a little café. They all got croque monsieurs, which looked delicious. (For those of you not familiar with French café food, a croque monsieur is a buttery ham sandwich with cheese melted on the top, served hot. It's probably the only sandwich you eat with a knife and fork.) I got a cheese sandwich. It was Swiss cheese, which is probably one of my least favorite cheeses, so that wasn't so great. But the bread was DELICIOUS. Toward the end I contemplated just eating the bread and leaving the cheese, but I didn't know if that would be some kind of terrible French faux pas. Oh, well.

After class, I went to the store (I forget the name, but it was a super-store type: clothes, groceries, cosmetics, stationary, etc.) to get notebooks and folders for class. After that, Amanda and Kelly and I went on an unsuccessful quest for chocolate. (I know, you're saying, unsuccessful? In France? How can that be? Well, I didn't want to pay like €4 for a piece of chocolate, that's how.)

I returned home, once again struggled with opening the front door, managed to open it this time, and gracelessly blundered into the apartment to find that there was company. I probably made a fantastic first impression, what with my hair all crazy from the strong wind and my face all red and sweaty from power-walking from the opposite end of the Presqu'île, but whatever. At any rate, I went to my room to do some work. That was, oh, four hours ago, and I still haven't managed to accomplish much in the way of homework. To be fair, some of that time was taken up by dinner. The company I mentioned earlier included three young kids who are staying here through next week. They're really cute, but they totally own me in terms of the French language. (Sorry, Nicole, if you're reading this. I know you hate that phrase - "in terms of" - and I totally didn't use it on purpose, I swear.) The oldest, Edgar, corrected me at dinner. It's depressing and inspiring at the same time - depressing because this nine-year-old speaks both French and English and can correct my French grammar, inspiring because if he can by bilingual at the age of nine, then by God, I can accomplish it at age 20.

The two girls are younger and SO CUTE. I was sitting in my room doing work and they came in to see me. Brune, the six-year-old, was enjoying making the cursor move on my laptop, and she was having a ball when I let her type letters onto my desktop stickies. (If you aren't familiar with Macs - hi, Mom - stickies are like virtual post-its on your desktop.) Anyway, Brune was loving that. She also seemed to enjoy asking me who the people were in the pictures on my desk. Meanwhile, Olympe (4) climbed right up next to me on the chair, and both girls recited their full names for me. It was adorable.

As far as improving my French goes, I'm still trying. At Corinne (my host mothers)'s suggestion, I write down new words every night - sometimes things I heard during the day, sometimes things I wanted to say but didn't know the words for, and sometimes things I just find while flipping through the dictionary. It's come in handy a couple times already, but my reading last night nearly doubled the size of the vocab list and I can't remember half of the words. Or, worse yet, I see a word and realize that I know what it means, but for the life of me, I can't remember. Of course, then I just look in my notebook again, so ce n'est pas grâve, I guess.

This weekend (Easter weekend), I'm traveling to the south of France with Kelly and Amanda, two other girls in my group. (Amanda is actually one of my sorority sisters; we were in the same pledge class.) It sounds like my family in the States will be having nicer weather, though - the forecasts for Arles and Avignon call for rain and temperatures in the 60s. Temp-wise, it's not bad, but the weather could be nicer. But the forecast has said rain for the past three days, and while it does rain hard at times, it's just cloudy for most of the time and sometimes the sun even comes out (sometimes at the same time as the rain, which is what happened this afternoon. I looked for a rainbow, but no luck.). Either way, it's gonna be roughly ten degrees warmer than Lyon, and I can definitely get on board with that.

Unfortunately, it's looking like pretty much all the hostels in Arles are booked up, what with it being a holiday weekend (a long weekend here in France - we get Easter Monday off. Hooray for Catholic countries!) and Arles being famous for its bullfights (particularly its Easter bullfights, I understand). We've got Friday and Saturday covered, but we still need one for Sunday night. Got any ideas? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

I'm not sure how I feel about the bullfights. It would be cool to see one, I guess, but I'm pretty sure I'm morally opposed to them. Plus, I don't want to make Amanda go by herself (Kelly's not sure she feels up to seeing the bullfights, either). But still, moral opposition is a pretty legitimate trump card, right? It's why I've gotten away with not trying any meaty food here.

Besides, Amanda says that the Arles bullfights don't kill the bull (which I definitely would not be able to handle), but still, the idea of antagonizing some animal just for fun...I don't know if it's something I can get behind/monetarily support (with my €16 admission fee).

Arg, it's 23:03 (11 pm). I should really get to work on my grammar homework and then go to sleep. As a reward for getting through another day without any major incidents, I'm going to allow myself to read one chapter of my book. I was reading 2-4 chapters a night, but I realized that at that rate I'm going to run out of fun (read: English) books really quickly. So one chapter it is. I doubt I'll stick with it. I was thinking of maybe trying to find a French translation of a familiar English book in a librairie (here, a librairie is a bookstore and a bibliothèque is a library) and reading that. It would be educational but kind of fun, since I'd already have a basic idea of what I was reading and I wouldn't be getting graded on it.

And my English books are pretty much the only bedtime chill-out activity I have these days. Journal-writing is more of an exercise than a relaxing activity now that I'm journaling in French, and it takes me so long to look things up in the dictionary (yes, I'm old-school, no online-translator journaling for me - I learn better this way) that by the time I've done all the set-up for the anecdote I'm about to tell, I'm too tired (lazy?) to finish up. And then I proceed to read four chapters of my book. Bof.

Anyway, that's why I'm really liking the blog right about now. It's a nice outlet for my feelings/thoughts and a good record of my time in Lyon (more dependable than my journal, considering how terrible my French is). But now I really need to get to work, since there's only an hour left in the day and I still have some grammar work to do. (It's not a heck of a lot, but I should probably get started on my Thursday reading as well. And we still have to find a hostel for Sunday night. And I need to get back to Amanda about the bullfighting. Argggg, too much to do, too little time!!!)