Adventures (And Misadventures) in Amsterdam

I finally have a few moments to sit down and write about my weekend in Amsterdam, so I will take advantage of it. Amsterdam is an amazing city with something for just about anyone from the regular touris, to the art connoisseur, and even the utter sleeze-ball. Amsterdam is the only place that can mix high culture with blantant debauchery within the same city. It is the most unique city I've ever traveled to.

Friday morning, I woke up ready to embark on my journey to a new city and a new country. I barely slept the night before, I was so excited. Kaylin, Amanda, and I took the metro to the train station, and boarded the train to Amsterdam. The four-hour train ride was relaxing and the scenery was beautiful. The train went through northern France and into Belgium, where we stopped in Brussels and Antwerp (an important WWII site). As the train sped through the country side, farm-checkered Belgium turned into windmill-speckled Holland, where we stopped in Rotterdam and the Hague before finally arriving in Amsterdam.

I stepped off the train and into a different world. Throughout the train station, absolutely nothing was in English. Everything was in Dutch. I figured that they would have everything in a few key languages, such as English, French and German, but they stuck with Dutch. So we wandered around the train station for around twenty minutes trying to figure out where we were supposed to go. We couldn't even find the bathroom, because we didn't know what any of the signs said. Eventually we found the information desk with people who spoke English. Our first order of business was to find the tram that would take us into the city and to our hostel.

They pointed us in the right direction where we finally made it out of the stubbornly Dutch train station. We were immediately greeted by people who were there to help travelers with the tram system. The trams are the primary system of public transportation in Amsterdam, and they are quite efficient. I personally like the metro better, but the tram was great, too. We talked to a guy (in English!) who told us which tram we needed to get to our hostel, and where we needed to purchase our weekend unlimited tram pass. After buying our tram passes, we had our first of many misadventures involving the tram.

We hopped on the correct tram and had our passes validated, then sat down for the ride. Remember how I said that Europe doesn't do air-conditioning? The trams were no exception. It was so hot and stuffy, I thought I would suffocate. But watching the city rolled by my window more than made up for it. There were so many shops and cafes and interesting looking places, as well as amazing Dutch architecture. Forgetting about the oppressive heat, the fact that I was acutally in Amsterdam was sinking in. Something I had dreamed about for years was right before my very eyes, surrounding me. It was such an awesome feeling. I was shaken from my reverie by the annoucement that we were approaching the stop at which I needed to exit. The annoucements were completely in Dutch, but fortunately there was an electronic sign that showed the names of the stops. Otherwise, I would have never even know we were there. Kaylin, Amanda, and I gathered our bags and made our way to the door of the tram. But right as we made it to the door of the tram, the tram started moving again. Apparently we took too long. We just chuckled to ourselves. We could just get off at the next stop. In theory.

As it approached the next stop, we were ready to walk out the door. If only we could get it open. We must have looked like a bunch of cave men poking and banging on some unfamiliar technology, because no matter what we tried, that door did not budge. Before we had a chance to figure it out, the tram started moving again. This time it turned a corner and went a long way before it actually stopped again. When it did stop again, fortunately someone else was getting off at that stop as well and we just followed them. Apparently there is a button on the handle that you have to press to open the doors (who knew?). So we got off at this stop, not really knowing where we were. Our hostel was a few blocks away from the original tram stop anyway, so now we were really lost. Where is Rick Steves when we need him?

I pulled out my map of Amsterdam (not Rick Steves, which would have been better), and we sat down on a bench to try to figure out where in the hell we were. We looked up and saw the Van Gogh Museum across the street, which is a land mark that was easily identifiable on the map. Once we found that on the map, we were able to figure out where we were and how to get where we were going. Our hostel was about a twenty minute walk away (no easy feat when toting luggage), but we finally made it.

Kaylin and I checked in and everything was fine with that. But our friend Amanda realized that she had checked into the other Stayokay in Amsterdam (there are two), which was on the other side of town. So Kaylin and I put our things in our room before going to find Amanda's hostel. Our room had twenty beds, all bunkbeds, and all girls. I had the bottom bunk (which I much prefer). It was on the fourth floor, but I had the luxury of an elevator (which I haven't had in a month!). The room overlooked Vondelpark, which is the central park of Amsterdam, so it was a beautiful view.

After unpacking, the three of us sat down and tried to figure out which tram we needed to take to get to Amanda's hostel. It didn't take long and we headed toward the tram. Once we got on the tram, we knew we had a long ride, so we just scoped out the scenery. But after a few minutes, we started to get the feeling we weren''t going in the right direction. It was getting more industrial by the minute, so we knew we had done something wrong. We got off the tram and immediately realized we had stepped into a rather unfamiliar side of town, and it was a little dodgy....

We looked on the map and saw where we needed to go and we started walking. Quickly. We wandered around the area for about half an hour to forty-five minutes before finally finding what we were looking for: the road that Amanda's hostel was on. And it was a much less shady area than the one that we were in previously, thank goodness. She checked into her hostel, then we got back on the tram (the right one this time) and made our way to the Hard Rock Cafe, because we were starving.

Hard Rock Cafe was great. It was the first American food I'd had in a month, and they had a two-for-one cocktail special that we indulged in. I got the twisted macaroni and it was amazing. There wasn't a gift shop though, which was disappointing because I wanted to get a t-shirt.

After eating, we went to Anne Frank House, which was a really great thing to see. I have read Anne Frank's diary twice, which made it that much more interesting. To see the place that she had to hide with seven other people for two years, completely in fear of being discovered by the Nazis was a chilling experience. They had black-out curtains over the windows, so it was dark and cold even though it was really warm outside. Imagine being cooped up in such a small place for that long and never being to go outside or make any noise or even just feel safe. And Anne was 12 - 13 years old when she was in hiding here, so she couldn't even be a child while here. She and her family were eventually discovered by the Nazis and Anne and all of her family, except her father, died while in the Nazi concentration camps. Anne was only thirteen, and died a few weeks after her mother and sister were killed. She didn't even know that her father was still alive. Two months after her death, all the surviving jews were freed from the concentration camps by the Allies and the war was over.

After the moving experience at Anne Frank House, we walked around town, taking pictures and looking in little boutiques until night fell. Then we made our way over to the Red Light District. Night time is oddly the safest time to go to the Red Light District, because there are so many tourists and such. It was a very strange place, somewhere that was interesting to see once, but that was enough for me. They had prostitutes that would sit in the windows in bikinis or lingerie, with neon lights and black lights illuminating them. They would randomly point to the men as they walked by and try to get them to buy them. There were people who would stand outside of the strip clubs and try to get people to go in and see the show. The guy at one place was announcing that they had student discounts with a student ID. Apparenly you get student discounts at strip clubs in Amsterdam, but not at the museums (not one single museum had a student discount!).

During the walk through the Red Light District, Kaylin ran into a light post and hurt her head, so we headed back to the dorms. I was so tired from the long day that I fell asleep around midnight, but I didn't really sleep well.

Part Two is coming up shortly in the next blog. Its lunch time.

My Last Weekend In Europe

Bonjour!

This is sadly my last weekend in Europe, but it will be a very exciting one because I am traveling to Amsterdam, in the Netherlands! It will be my first time traveling to a country in which I don't speak a word of the language, so it should be especially interesting. Dutch is the primary language in the Netherlands, but most of the Dutch speak English fluently. Also, fun fact: Dutch is the closest language to English, linguistically. Both Dutch and English are Germanic languages, which have a lot in common with German and Scandinavian languages such as Swedish and Norwegian. I think that Dutch sounds more like English than it looks like English.

Kaylin and I are going, as well as several of the girls from the Auburn group, so there will be a big group of us girls. We plan to see Anne Frank's House (which is now a museum), Rijksmuseum (a very famous art museum), Van Gogh Museum, The Cannabis College, and perhaps even take a canal boat tour through the city.

I won't have my computer with me, unfortunately, so I won't be posting another blog until Sunday night at the earliest, after I return.

Bon week-end!

Grand Palaces and Half-Timbered Buildings

What at long, wonderful weekend.

Saturday, I went to the Palace of Versailles. Dr. Morris and a group of about eight of us girls from the Auburn group left the residence hall around nine o'clock in the morning and took the metro to the RER station (the RER are the trains that serve the Ile-de-France, the province where Paris is). But when we got to the RER station, it was closed. It took us forever to figure out what we had to do, but we eventually found a metro employee who could point us in the right direction. Unfortunately, the right direction was to the complete other side of town, because we had to take the metro about thirty minutes away to find an RER that would take us to Versailles. The train ride to Versailles itself was only about twenty minutes, but it took so long to figure out the detour that it ended up taking two hours to get there.

But Versailles was beautiful! The palace was really cool, but I liked the gardens much better. After about three rooms in the palace, you kind of get the point: they were rich and like gold. Every room is coated in unbelievable amount of gold. Its almost like everything there was either made of gold or had gold on it. And of course, every room had its fair share of royal portraits and such. The best part of the palace was the Hall of Mirrors, which was unbelievably gorgeous. It was a long hallway with a eighteen windows on the right, and eighteen mirrors across from the windows to create a lot of light and a great view in any direction. There were huge chandeliers hanging from the ceiling in front of ever window as well. The ceiling and walls were painted in gold. It was incredible.

All that said, I was way more impressed by (or maybe just interested in) the gardens. The estate was extensive, with flowers, large shrubbery, fountains, and a large canal built right in the center. Every inch of the estate was so well manicured; I can't imagine how much time and money was put into it. Not to mention I now understand why it cost 26 euros to get in, too. The most interesting part was Marie Antoinette's estate. She had her own "little" cottage that was actually bigger than any house I've ever lived in, as well as her own gardens and a little village that was built just for her to play in. She was married when she was fourteen, and she liked to play in the village with her friends. There was a pond there and even a fully-equipped farm that was tended to by servants. This girl had it all!

I also had the best chocolate ice cream cone I've ever had in my life at Versailles. The chocolate was so rich and sweet that it tasted like chocolate pudding, but more frozen, like ice cream. It was the best three euros I've spent so far!

We were there for about six hours, just wandering through the gardens (and getting lost). Dr. Morris didn't go into Versailles because he had been there about a million times, so we met him outside of Versailles at five o'clock that evening. We were late because we got lost at least twice just on our way back from Marie Antoinette's village. That, and we kept getting distracted. Dr. Morris was waiting for us at the gate, but there were still a few other people who hadn't yet shown. Four other girls and I were worried that we would be late for dinner back at the residence hall, so we left by ourselves to catch the train. Fortunately, our train was waiting for us when we got there, so we didn't have to stand around and wait. But when we got on the train, we didn't know if we were actually on the right train. There wasn't anything that identified the train as being the one that was going to Paris, and a bunch of other passengers were confused as well. But there was no other train at the station, so we stayed on that one. Apparently it was the right one though because we ended up in Paris.

After a long Saturday, Kaylin and I woke up at six o'clock in the morning on Sunday to get ready for our day trip to Strasbourg. We thought we'd given ourselves plenty of time, but when we got on the metro to head to the train station, we realized that we were running late. As soon as the metro pulled into the train station, we had to run-run-rudolph all the way to the quai to catch our train in time. It felt like Home Alone all over again. But we made it with a few minutes to spare, and before we knew it, the train was rolling toward the German border.

The train ride was great. The scenery was absolutely beautiful, with rolling hills and forests, and checker boards of farmland as far as the eye could see. Occasionally the train would pass a tiny French village, most little more than a tall gray church spire peaking out over a huddled patch of orange roof tops. At one point I saw the remnants of an old stone castle clinging to the edges of a tree-covered hill. When traveling, I enjoy the journey just as much as the destination, and this trip was certainly no exception.

As the train approached Strasbourg, we came first to the industrial part of the city. In Europe, the wealthy people usually live in the inner city, and poorer people live in the outskirts of the city and in the suburbs (le banlieu), as opposed to in America where poorer people live in the inner cities and more affluent families live in the suburbs. It is really expensive to live downtown here, no matter where you are. The outskirts of Strasbourg looked like the outskirts of Paris, with a lot of factories and tall modern apartment buildings. But as the train moved closer to the center of the city, it became more quaint. At this point, I still wasn't sure what to expect. The train arrived at the train station in Strasbourg right on time (to the minute), and as soon as we walked outside of the train station, I knew I was going to love Strasbourg.

There was a big open plaza, with open lawns surrounded by tall, colorful buildings. To find out where we needed to go, I consulted my Rick Steves book (probably the most valuable thing I brought with me to Europe) and found the road immediately. It was an old medieval street, evident by the fact that it was cobblestone and had barely enough room for one car to drive down (believe me, they still tried). It was only 9:30 in the morning, so it was very peaceful and quiet. There were only a few other people out in the town and few cars at all. I haven't heard quiet like that in a really long time. I was strolling down the street taking in every inch of the city, breathing in the scent of fresh bread and feeling the bumpy cobblestone beneath my feet, when the river Ille opened up before me, a wide stone bridge traversing the green waters below. All along the river were colorful, half-timbered houses with beautiful flowers of bright summer colors cascading from window boxes. They looked like ginger bread houses all sitting in a row.

Kaylin and I followed the map into the heart of Strasbourg, looking for the Strasbourg Cathedral, where we would begin our journey through the city. After about twenty minutes of walking, we knew we must have been close because the further into the city we walked, the older the buildings got, and we were definitely in the medieval quarter. We made it to Gutenberg Plaza, where there is a giant copper statue of Johann Gutenberg, who invented the printing press in 1440, right here in Strasbourg! So as you're reading this blog, thank Johann Gutenberg, because without his revolutionary invention, you would not be reading this blog until I dictated this story to a monk or scribe, who would then spend a few years handwriting one copy of my blog. Not to mention the time it would take to get to all of you in the States. So thanks, Johann Gutenberg, for creating a more expedient way to produce literature (without which I would surely die of boredom)!

It was while we were standing on the corner in Gutenberg Plaza looking at the map in Rick Steves' book that I stumbled upon an amazing sight. I was looking for a street sign to say what street we were on, when I turned my head to the left, and oh, what a sight. I saw the largest, darkest medieval cathedral I have ever seen, standing proudly at the end of a tight, cobblestone lane, lined with medieval half-timbered buildings. It was astonishing. It was built with red stone that had slowly started turning black over the years. Its pointy bell tower stretched into the sky, with gargoyles staring menacingly back at me.

"Uh, Kaylin," was all I was able to say, as I pointed in the direction of the cathedral. "I think we've found Strasbourg Cathedral."

We tilted our heads toward the sky to try to take in all of the cathedral as we walked down the cobblestone lane, past the cafes and gift shops that were still in a deep Sunday morning slumber. We walked on with the sound of church bells telling us it was ten o'clock, until we reached the 2,000 year-old Roman square on which the cathedral was built. The square, unlike the rest of the city, was teaming with life. Locals rushing to the cathedral for morning mass, tourists taking pictures and gazing up at the incredible building before them. Construction began on Strasbourg Cathedral in 1015 A.D., but it wasn't completed until 1439. It was the tallest building in the world from 1647 until 1874. The building was way bigger than Notre Dame de Paris, and far more impressive.

Morning mass was going on inside the church and we were allowed to sit in and watch for a little while. I had never been to a Catholic church or a mass before, so it was an interesting experience. It was completely in French, so I wasn't really sure what was going on most of the time (not that I would have known what was going on if it were in English, either), but it was really interesting to watch. The inside of the cathedral was a lot like Notre Dame de Paris: Gothic architecture, high ceilings, stained-glass windows everywhere. We didn't stay long because we had a lot we wanted to do.

We left and followed Rue Rohan to the river where we bought tickets for a boat tour of the city. We got really good seats on the boat, and a few minutes later, we left on our seventy minutes tour of Strasbourg. There were earphones in every seat that you could listen to for information on everything around you. When I first put the earphones on, it was all in German. I listened to the tour in German for about five minutes before I realized that I could change the channels and find it in English. When I finally did find English, it was an Irish man who was speaking, which was unexpected by definitely okay with me. I actually found myself paying more attention because of the Irish accent.

I was able to see so much of the city from the boat and it was absolutely beautiful. The river was lined with trees and of course the gorgeous medieval half-timbered buildings that are everywhere in Strasbourg. There is so much history in the city, too. Having been juggled between Germany and France for several centuries, it is a great mix. I felt like it has all the best things from both cultures. You could walk down the street and smell sour kraut cooking while people sit outside at cafes sipping on wine. The dialect there was very strange... it really threw me off, as someone who is still learning standard French. I was especially thrown off when someone said "Bon-shor-uh!" It took me a few seconds to realize that they were saying "Bonjour." It was like how Germans speak French, I guess.

After the boat ride, we took a walk throughout the city. We stopped at the archaeological museum in Rohan Palace, where we spent about an hour looking over old bones and skulls, and all kinds of ancient artifacts from the Alsace region (the region where Strasbourg is). It chronicled the history of Alsace from prehistoric times to the nineteenth century A.D. The even had a Neanderthal skull! After the museum, we made our way to La Petite France, where there is the biggest concentration of half-timbered houses and little sidewalk cafes. It is the oldest part of the city and it is called La Petite France because it has always been the French part of the city no matter what country happened to own the city at the time (kind of like China Town in New York or San Francisco).

We walked around for several hours along the river and through some of the non-touristy neighborhoods before deciding to find some food. We made our way back to the Roman square on which Strasbourg Cathedral stands, and found a decently priced cafe that served good food. I ordered a Kronenberg, which has brewed right there in Strasbourg for centuries so it was extra special, and a croque monsieur, which is a toasted ham sandwich with melted cheese on top and in the middle. It was incredible. It also came with a salad that had a delicious house dressing on it. I have no idea what it was, but it was delicious.

We had to leave right after dinner to make our way back to the train station. We walked twenty minutes back to where we first started our Strasbourg experience. The square was much more lively in front of the train station that evening than it was in the morning when we had first arrived. There were travelers and backpackers everywhere, some eating and some laying down in the grass with their heads on their backpacks, fast asleep. Many of them were traveling with dogs, who lay in the grass beside their person and watched all of the people walk by. Kaylin and I sat down too, to take a break from hours of walking. I didn't want to leave Strasbourg quite yet. I felt like their was so much more I wanted to see, but our train was leaving soon.

This time we didn't have to run to catch our train, thankfully. It was waiting for us when we got to the quai, and we hopped on and found our seats. The train left the station about fifteen minutes late and we headed back to Paris.

When the ticket checker came around to check our tickets, I had an interesting conversation with him. He was an older French man, with an interesting sense of humor.

"What part of America are you from?" he asked, a warm smile crinkling the skin around his eyes.

"Cincinnati, Ohio," I told him.

"And you are studying in France?"

"Yes, we're studying in Paris for a month," I responded.

"How do you like Paris?" he asked.

I gave him a big smile. "I love Paris! I don't want to leave!"

"Good, good," he said, looking at my passport. "You are called Marie Simpson?"

I nodded, wondering why he asked.

"I will look for you on television, then," he told me, with a big smile.

"On television?" I asked, wondering what in the world he was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"The television show, The Simpsons," he said with a laugh. "My son loves that show very much."

I started cracking up. I never would have expected someone in France to connect my name with the American cartoon, The Simpsons. I haven't heard that joke at home since I was in elementary school, so it was such a surprise to hear.

He moved on to check the other passengers' tickets, then came back to my seat and said, "My name is Heinz, you know, like the ketchup."

The French have a really good sense of humor.

We made it back into Paris around nine o'clock that night and I was too tired to do anything but take a shower and go to sleep. It was such a great weekend!

Enfin, le week-end est ici!

Bonjour tout le monde!

The weekend is finally here! I have a really fun (and busy) weekend planned, so I thought I would give you the heads-up on where I will be going.

Tomorrow, I will be going to Versailles with the group from Auburn. Versailles is the grand palace built by Louis XIV in the second half of the 1600s, after he moved the capital of France from Paris to Versailles. It is one of the largest palaces in Europe, and consequently one of the most expensive. It is about forty-five minutes outside of Paris by train, and the group will be leaving tomorrow around 9 am.

Sunday, Kaylin and I are taking a day trip to the city of Strasbourg, which is a city that sits on the border between France and Germany. It is about a two-and-a-half hour train ride west of Paris in the province of Alsace. I am more excited about this than Versailles because I've been wanting to go to Strasbourg for a long time. There is a lot of German influence there since it has been tossed between Germany and France for centuries, so the culture is an interesting mix of French and German. Even the language is different. The people there speak a dialect of German called Alsacian, in addition to French. I am so excited to see this city and the culture there. I'm honestly not really sure what to expect, which is the best part!

Tonight Kaylin and I are going back to the Louvre for the fourth time. We go every friday night because it is free for students. We still have a lot of ground to cover, but I think we have been to more than half of the museum by now. Before we go to the Louvre, we will go to Jardin Tuileries, which is a huge park across the street from the Louvre. There is one of the biggest ferris wheels I've ever seen right on the bank of the Seine, which sounds kind of scary but this city has really gotten me used to heights, so I think I'll be okay. The Place de la Concorde is also right next to Jardin Tuileries, so we will go there as well. The Place de la Concorde is where King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were beheaded during the French Revolution. It is full of history!

I am so excited about this weekend!

The Notre Dame de Paris

I finally made it to Notre Dame today. The Auburn group went together to see it when we first got here, on the day that I was sick, so I didn't get to go. But today after class and a baguette, Kaylin and I took the metro up to Ile de la Cité to visit this 900-year-old cathedral. It was very impressive in size, architecture and beauty. It is huge on the outside, but the outside doesn't really prepare you for how big it is on the inside. On the inside, it looks like it is so much bigger. All of the stone arches draw your eyes immediately to the ceiling if the cathedral, where the arches meet in a triangular shape. It is an incredibly humbling feeling to be in such a large building and to feel so small in comparison.

More than anything, I was blown away by how old the building is. A history-nerd at heart, I had to sit down in the pews for a minute to wrap my head around the fact that the walls surrounding me and the floor beneath my feet were crafted by 900-year-old hands. I looked around and I could almost see them at work, shaping the stones, fitting them into place, carving all the amazing sculptures and gargoyles and freizes scattered throughout the place. I could see in my mind's eye 900 years worth of masses, papal visits, communions and baptisms, marriages and so on. And there I was, sitting in the middle of all this history, just another page in the story of Notre Dame. I couldn't stop myself from touching the walls and thinking about all of the people who have also touched that wall in the past 900 years, and of their stories.

After wandering around the inside of Notre Dame for a while, we decided to go up to the top of the cathedral, for which there was a long line. We stood in line for about 45 minutes talking to a british woman and her teenage daughter. After finally arriving at the door to enter the spiral staircase that would take us to the roof and the bell tower, we paid almost five euros to get in and stand around in the gift shop (how thoughtful!) while we waited to be allowed to embark on our journey to the top. The staircase was almost comical. Four hundred steps up a dangerously steep and narrow spiral staircase was really funny to me for some reason at the time. I guess if I am going to laugh about it later, I might as well laugh about it now.

At the top of those four hundred steps was an amazing gargoyle's eye view of the city. You can see the Eiffel Tower in the distance, the Seine river, the Louvre, Montparnasse Tower, and Sacre-Coeur on the horizon. I could even see the neighborhood in which I live, but not the exact building because they all look the same.

After walking all around the roof of the cathedral, I was ready to go into the dark, spooky bell tower where the Quasimoto rang the Grand Bell of Notre Dame in Victor Hugo's novel, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I crawled through the tiny door, which was maybe four feet high, into the bell tower. When I stood up and looked around, I was surrounded by wooden planks and another steep, dangerous staircase. The staircase led to the Grand Bell (of course), so I climbed up deep into the bell tower. It looked and felt like it had been there for 900 years. Musty and dark, with cobwebs hanging from the wood rafters, I stepped back in time. The bell hung in the middle of the tour, the hugest bell I've ever seen in person. I don't know how it compares in size to the average church bell since I've never seen another church bell in person, but I will say this: I would really hate to be in that tower when that bell is ringing.

Believe it or not, there was still more to see, and consequently, more stairs to climb. So I climbed more spiral stairs to the roof of the bell tower itself. It was the highest point of the cathedral, and it had an amazing view with it, too. While I was up there, the bell in the other tower started ringing. It wasn't as loud as I expected, but I was still surprised when I heard it.

Overall, I would say that I enjoyed climbing up on the roof and the bell towers more than exploring the inside of Notre Dame, but both were very enjoyable. The experience wouldn't have been complete without going to the top, and it is worth paying for unless you have a fear of heights. The Notre Dame cathedral is a big part of Paris' history and has been for nearly a millenium. Therefore, no trip to Paris would be complete without a visit to Notre Dame.

Bonne Fête Nationale!

The weather finally cleared up for Bastille Day, the national holiday of France, making it a beautiful day for celebrating the holiday. All of Paris was out and about, filling up parks all over the city, sunbathing, snacking on bread and cheese, and drinking wine straight out of the bottle. Street bands were on every corner, serenading the jovial Parisians on their national holiday while the scent of cigarettes and fresh bread waft through the air. The sun was warm on my face as I stretched out in a chair in Jardin du Luxembourg eating a 3-Euro ice cream cone (so worth it), watching a group of people toss an American football (didn't expect to see that here!). The details were a little different, but the atmosphere was not so different from America's national holiday, the fourth of July. Parades and fireworks. Good food and family. Of course, Paris puts its own spin on it, making it a unique experience worth being a part of. At least I was glad to be a part of it anyway.

I joined the celebrating masses at Jardin du Luxembourg, sitting in a surprisingly available chair on the lawn before the massive Palace of Luxembourg. Not long after sitting down, the sound of music reached my ears, peaking my curiosity. It sounded really far away, but I could barely detect the low rumblings of a tuba. I had to investigate, so Kaylin and I gave up our precious lawn chairs in our quest for this mysterious music. We followed the faint sounds throughout the park until the sounds became louder and more distinguishable. By the time we reached the other side of the park, I could tell that the music was jazz.

A jazz band!

Eventually we came upon a crowd of people along the tall, black wrought-iron fence that surrounded the perimeter of the park. We fought our way to the front of the crowd (no easy feat) where upon closer investigation, we discovered that it was in fact a jazz band responsible for the music we'd been hearing. But this jazz band was pretty special. For starters, the trombone player was a guy in a dress and a blond wig - I think he must have lost a bet, because he wasn't even a well-dressed drag queen. There was a trumpet player, an alto-sax player, a drummer, and a guy who switched back and forth between a saxophone, a clarinet, and a megaphone. They put on an amazing show. We stayed and watched the entire show, and I threw a 2-euro coin into their suitcase, where they were collecting tips. Cheap entertainment isn't difficult to come by in Paris.

Feeling desperate for something quick and inexpensive to eat, Kaylin and I decided to try one of France's own fast food chains. It is called "Quick Burger" and it is not much different from a Burger King, except higher in quality (relatively speaking, of course). It was more difficult to order fast food in French than I had expected, mostly because their food choices had unique and original names that didn't really describe what you are actually getting. Fast food chains in America do this... for instance, what is a Whopper? If you don't know anything about Burger King, you would have no clue what a Whopper consisted of because the name offers no information about it. At least at a cafe in Paris, a ham sandwich is a ham sandwich, etc. So anyway, I didn't end up getting what I thought that I had ordered, didn't really like what I got, and felt like crap after eating it anyway. What I got was called a Fred & Omar burger. Seriously. I was just trying to order some mozzarella sticks, but apparently whatever I said sounded like "Fred & Omar burger" because that was what I got. So that was my one and only experience with French fast food and it made me feel just as crappy and ripped-off as American fast food.

Around eight o'clock we headed to the metro so we could make our way to the Eiffel Tower for the fireworks. Apparently all the other 10 million residents of Paris had the same idea because the metro was so packed, that we had to wait several trains before we could squeeze onto one. And I mean really squeeze. It was similar to my Eiffel Tower elevator experience, except there were more people, it was a lot hotter and stuffier, and the ride was much longer. Oh, and at every stop, even more people tried to squeeze on. And of course my face was pressed right up against the door as the train sped along the tracks. I was just trying not to think about the lock on that door failing.... But I was just glad that I had a door behind me instead of some pervert trying to feel me up in a crowded metro.

We finally made it to the Eiffel Tower and it was crowded everywhere. To put it in an American context, these fireworks are like New Year's Eve in Times Square, New York. There was no room to move or breathe. After being pulled through the tides of people wandering aimlessly, we finally found a spot where we could sit down at the edge of a grassy area where people were sitting and picnicking and drinking. We had to sit in the gravel, but there were some really nice Parisians sitting next to us that we talked to while we were there. They were three couples, probably in their thirties, and they were immediately friendly to us.

"Bonjour!" One of the men said to us as we sat down, in really close quarters.

"Bonjour!" We said, as crowds of people stood behind us.

We basically just complained about the crowds with them and made fun of people for being stupid. It was really nice to be able to interact with Parisians in a casual social setting. I've been able to talk to Parisians a lot since I've been here, but it has always been either in the class room or in a customer-server situation. This was the first casual situation I've encountered and it was really cool. They were funny and really nice, considering that we are foreigners and obviously don't speak French expertly. But they were patient and didn't make us feel like foreigners.

After a while we were forced to stand, due to the crowds that were closing in on us. It was hot and noisy and so many people that I literaly could not move. I was shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers on every side. But when the fireworks started, it was all worth it. The entire crowd immediately turned silent and put their full attention on the show above our heads. The smoke from the fireworks smelled like popcorn as it drifted through the city, and it was illuminated in all different colors every time new fireworks went off. There was classical music playing in the loudspeakers all over the city, perfectly accompanying the fireworks, down to every note. At the end of every set, the crowd went wild with applause and whistles, then quieted again to await the next segment. The fireworks were absolutely amazing. It was one of the best fireworks shows I've ever seen... it was so beautiful that it made me want to start singing opéra!

Some of the fireworks were low over the river and one of the French ladies and I were both too short to see them over the crowd, so I stuck my camera up over my head and snapped a picture, then she and I looked at the pictures... it worked well and we got to see a lot of them that way!

At one point, someone a few feet behind me passed out and when the security guards didn't hear her friend calling, our entire section of about twenty to thirty people started screaming "Sécurité!" until security finally heard us (which didn't take long - we were loud).

The fireworks lasted for about thirty to forty-five minutes, but it seemed like it was over too soon. The Eiffel Tower glowed behind us as the crowd started moving en masse away from the river and the Eiffel Tower and the Trocadèro. It was one of the most massive crowds I've ever witnessed. There are ten million people in this city, and it seemed like they were all there.

As we were leaving, one the the French men said to me, "C'était beau, n'est-ce pas?" Which means "That was beautiful, wasn't it?" And I answered, "Oui, c'était très beau!" Then he and his wife said au revoir! and left. Kaylin and I decided to walk home because the metro would have been impossible. People were climbing over the gates to get in because there were so many people. After an hour and a half walk home through the city, I was glad to finally be home in my bed.

Bonne Fête Nationale!

An Afternoon in Normandy

If you're in Paris and you want to spend an afternoon out of the city for a little peace and serenity, then I recommend taking the train from Gare St. Lazare in Paris to Giverny, Normandy, to visit the home and gardens of impressionist painter Claude Monet. It is the perfect weekend getaway for anyone who is a fan of Claude Monet's artwork or even if you're just interested in nature, because Giverny has a lot of both. Giverny is about an hour's train ride northwest of Paris and it is a tiny medieval French village in the middle of nowhere. The town of Vernon is where you actually get off the train, and then you take a fifteen minute bus ride to Giverny. I didn't have to pay anything for the train ticket because I have a Eurail pass, but for people without a Eurail pass, it it only 18 Euros for a round trip ticket (not bad, eh?).

The train ride was comfortable and the scenery was amazing. We passed quaint little villages nestled in the French countryside, untouched by tourism or urbanism. They were so authentic and so very French. I kept getting songs from Beauty and the Beast stuck in my head the whole time because these towns looked the towns from that movie. Every time that we passed a village, I kept thinking, "just let me out here so I can explore this little nook of France." Little did I know, I would soon be getting off in one of these untouched places.

When the train pulled into the town of Vernon, it was like stepping into a time warp. Cobblestone streets, half-timbered houses, dirty laundry being hung out windows to dry. There was a medieval Gothic cathedral, just hanging out like it were the most normal thing in the world (which to these people, it is). The medieval cobblestone streets were so narrow that I seriously worried about how the bus would fit through them(it somehow managed). There was a patisserie on every corner, and even a little candy shop with a little boy standing outside the window, pointing to the candy and looking at his mother quite persuasively (some things just happen across all cultures, don't they?). There were many streets that the bus really couldn't have fit in no matter how much the grumpy, chain-smoking bus driver tried. I was waiting for a horse and buggy to driver by at any moment with a knight in full shining armor. Some of the buildings were so old, that they looked like they were just houses stacked on top of each other, but they were still pretty and retained their centuries-old elegance. And there were flowers everywhere. Whoever the gardener of Vernon, France is, I hope that he or she is being paid well, because not one street corner, not one single window in that town was without flowers. Even the bridge that crossed the Seine had flowers all over it.

Giverny was across the river Seine from Vernon and it was a beautiful drive there. The trees and flowers were in full bloom, people were riding bikes along the road and there were random cows hanging out on the side of the road near farm houses that had probably been there since William the Conqueror was the duke of Normandy (eleventh century).

We finally arrived in Giverny, and walked up the narrow land that lead into the village. The first thing I see as soon as I entered the village was a barn and a house that must have been several centuries old. it was built completely of stone and timber. It was beautiful! The lane was very narrow, and there were high walls on both sides, closing off properties. By this point, it was cloudy and dreary, but it fit in with the mood of the town perfectly, with all of the old stone and half-timber buildings with bright green shutters and cobblestone streets built centuries ago.

When you get to the first street, you take a right and Monet's huge pink house is on the right hand side - a blind person couldn't miss it. The house takes up most of the block - as well as the line to get in to the house. We probably waited in line for about a half an hour before we finally got in. This is where I ran into a familiar practice: we had to enter and exit the property through the gift shop! Sounds a lot like home!

As soon as you walk onto the actual property, you are immediately surrounded by vibrant gardens, with bright colors and fragrances jumping out at you from every direction. The gravel walkways guide you through a labyrinth of flowers and trees and bushes and vines of every kind. Bees are busy at work pollinating the flowers (be careful, they are everywhere!), and butterflies of all shapes and colors are fluttering all around, blending in with all of the flowers. Walk a little farther and Monet's big pink house with green shutters, covered in vines, jumps out of nowhere.

The house was really big, but only a few rooms were open. I couldn't get any photos because photography was strictly forbidden (go figure), but the inside wasn't that terribly fascinating. The most fascinating thing about it was that it was really old, and all of the rooms were either egg yolk yellow, robin egg blue, or a mixture of the two. It was very strange. Even the furniture was painted to match.

The gardens were the best part. The landscaping was so beautiful. Every type of flower, tree, bush or vine you could ever think of or have never heard of was there. And of course, the famous Water Lily Pond, which inspired some of his most famous paintings. The pond was lovely. It was surrounded by graceful weeping willows and luscious shrubbery and grasses and flowers. There were bridges on either side, both painted in the same green found on the shutters of his house. One of the bridges was covered on top with vines, providing shade as well as beauty (and bees).

After spending about an hour or so in the gardens, we left and went to a little restaurant in the village. It was a cute restaurant/hotel that served everything from crepes and french fries to seafood and steak. Kaylin and I got a table on the balcony, which ended up being a mistake because the tables were bright white and it was blindingly sunny outside. I ordered french fries and hot chocolate crepes. I wanted cheese on my fries, but after a few minutes of trying to explain to the waitress in French that I wanted cheese on my fries, not on the side or after my meal, I just decided to go au naturel (plain) with the fries. And apparently you can only eat one type of food at a time in France, because they wouldn't bring the crepes until we had finished the fries. Which was another ordeal. I tried to explain to her in French that I wanted them at the same time, but she just kept saying, "Do you want the fries or the crepes first." I gave up and told her I wanted the fries first. When I wanted my crepes, the waitress came over to the table and I told her I was ready for them. They immediately took away my fries (I still had a few left). Oh well. It was delicious anyway.

On the way back to Paris from Giverny, we rode on a double-decker train! I didn't even know they made those. We sat on the top and I fell asleep on the ride back.

A Change In Plans...

Unfortunately, I am not writing this blog from the lovely city of Rouen. Last night, when I went to the train station to get tickets, all the trains that were going to Rouen today were completely full! I couldn't believe it. So we went to plan B. Except all the trains to Mont St. Michel were full, too. And Strasbourg. Everything was completely booked. UGH.

But, I do have good news. Kaylin and I booked tickets to Strasbourg for next weekend! Strasbourg is a lovely city on the border of France and Germany, and it is filled with history and a mesh of French and German cultures. The city has been tossed around between France and Germany for centuries, so it really is a mix of both cultures. We will be leaving Paris next Sunday around 7:20 am, and arriving in Strasbourg two and a half hours later, around 9:40 am. There is a lot to see in Strasbourg... there is a medieval castle, a five hundred-year-old astrological clock that does a show everyday at 12:30. There is a museum of daily life in the Middle Ages, and an archeological museum. Hopefully we will have time to go to Germany for part of the day. We will return to Paris around 10:30 that night.

Today has been pretty boring. Kaylin hurt her foot last night at the Louvre, so we can't go anywhere or do anything. We walked down to Luxembourg Gardens (like two blocks away), taking a baguette and some cheese with us to have a picnic. It was absolutely gorgeous when we left. But as soon as we got there, clouds came out of nowhere and it got really cold and windy, as though it were about to rain. So we packed everything up and walked back to the residence hall, trying to beat the rain.

Now, thirty minutes later as I am sitting her writing this, I am looking out my window and it is once again a bright sunny day. I think the weather hates me today.

Now we are going down to the train station to book our train tickets to Amsterdam... wish us luck!

Big Plans For A Big Weekend

I am going to be really busy this weekend, so I thought I would let everyone know my schedule before I leave town, since I might not have the time to blog until the weekend is over.

This is a big weekend in France: it is the weekend of the Fete Nationale, which most Americans know as Bastille day. It is France's National Holiday (like our Independence Day), and it occurs on July 14 (this Monday). It is the celebration of the storming of the Bastille, which is a French prison that was a symbol of the absolutist monarchy that ruled France at the time, on July 14, 1789. The common French people were tired of starving while their government was spending ridiculous amount of its treasury on frivolous things, such as grand palaces. Like Americans in the American Revolution, the people of France were tired of corrupt absolute monarchs being in power, so the people rose up to take control of their country. They wanted a republic, ruled by the people, for the people. So really long story short, they rose up and killed the aristocracy as well as King Louis XVI and his queen, Marie Antoinette, and their children (which is where we get the guillotine). And now we have La Republic Francaise (The French Republic).

The festivities for La Fete Nationale will take place on Monday, starting at 10:30 in the morning with a big parade down the Champs-Elysees. Everyone will party all day, then there will be a HUGE fireworks show in Paris that night after sundown. It really sounds very similar to how Americans celebrate Independence Day, so it should be interesting.

I have a lot more planned for this weekend though:
On Saturday, Kaylin and I will take a train out of Paris to the city of Rouen, in the province of Normandy (about an hour and a half northwest of Paris). Rouen is the city in northern France where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake on April 30, 1431 by the English during the Hundred Years' War. There is a Joan of Arc museum there, as well as a Joan of Arc Cathedral (she is the National Hero of France). There is also a plague cemetery, which is filled with the bodies of the victims of the Black Death, which killed off nearly a third of the Earth's population in the late 1300s. The Black Death reached Europe by 1347, killing off anywhere from a third to a half of Europe's population. This is very exciting for me because I did a project on the Black Death last summer and it is a really interesting subject... I have sort of a morbid fascination with it so I am really excited to see a plague cemetery in person! Now I need to shut up because I am going into history-nerd mode. We will spend the day in Rouen seeing the sights, and will return to Paris that same night.

On Sunday, the entire group from Auburn will be taking an excursion to Giverny, which is the home of impressionist painter Claude Monet. It is now a museum surrounded by the beautiful gardens in which he has painted some of his most famous paintings more than a century ago. I am very excited about this because I love Monet's artwork and I have heard that Giverny is absolutely lovely.

Journey to the Top!

I finally made it to the top of the Eiffel Tower! I was a four-hour ordeal from which my legs still hurt, but it was totally worth it. Kaylin and I had the afternoon off yesterday (Wednesday), so we decided to head over to the Eiffel Tower and go to the top.

We took the metro from St. Placide (line four) to Gare Montparnasse, where we hopped on line six heading toward Etoile. About twenty to thirty minutes later, we were sitting on the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower taking goofy pictures and relaxing in the sun amongst all the picnickers, tourists, musicians, sunbathers, photographers, and artists. It was the perfect temperature; slightly warm with a cool breeze. It was bright and sunny with a few puffy, white clouds floating leisurely by, unaware of the excitement going on below them.

The lines to get on the elevators to the top of this magnificent monument were already long, and evergrowing, so we made our way to the platform under the tower to where the lines were. It was already packed with people standing in line. We had three choices: the line that was packed out past the street, the line that curved almost all the way around the base, and the line that was packed way out in the gardens. They were all outrageously long, but there was one that was a wee-bit shorter than the other ones, so we jumped in that one. There was a group of about forty British high school girls in front of us, so they kept us entertained for the duration of the wait (I guess). There was a lot going on while we were in line. There were soldiers circling the base of the Eiffel Tower carry HUGE, scary guns, there were policemen in rollerblades (no joke), and there were Parisian teenagers doing tecktonik dancing (kind of like moon-walking, but with your whole body, and you do it to techo-music... really cool to watch but I would look stupid doing it). You could buy a hot dog for "only" five Euros, or an ice cream cone for about the same, or you could take a carriage ride. There was so much going on that it was difficult to be bored in that line.

While waiting in line, I had my first encounter with a gypsy. Thankfully, Rick Steves had warned me about gypsies and their scams to try to get money from you. I saw her coming from a few feet up the line. It was obvious that she was a gypsy. She had long brown hair, a really out-of-date dress that looked like someone had either made it by hand or it had been passed down through the family for a few centuries. Then she gave the biggest indication of being a gypsy: she was asking for money. She came and stood in front of Kaylin and me with a piece of paper that said:

"I am from Bosnia. I have been in Paris for two months. My brother has leukemia. I need money. Can you please help me?"

The second indication that something was strange, aside from her being a gypsy, was that the note was written in English. We are in Paris, France, where French is the official language. That told me right away that she was targeting tourists. Her story was sad, but it was just that: a story. This was almost verbatim one of the scams Rick Steves talked about.

I shook my head and moved past her, but she followed me.

"Please," she said, in near perfect English. "Give me some change, please. Please, I need your help."

I kept walking, and as I knew she would, she gave up more easily than a truly desperate person would, and she kept walking down the line, harrassing more people. And I started checking my purse and my pockets. I felt really bad, but every instinct, every cell in my body told me not to trust her, and I am big on trusting my instincts and intuition. If she spoke english, then why did she have to write her story down on a piece of paper, as though she didn't speak english? Anyway, I am glad that Rick Steves had warned me about scams like this. Besides, if her brother really did have leukemia, then France is the right place to be, because it is illegal for a doctor to turn away a patient because they don't have insurance or a way to pay. Which is moot anyway, because France has universal health care. But even is she weren't from France or an European Union country, then she still would not be turned away.

Then, as we were standing in line, a bunch of military jets and helicopters started flying by, landing somewhere nearby. They were really loud and it went on for close to five minutes. I was wondering if I should be worried, then I decided that I would get concerned until the guys with the huge guns look concerned.

After over an hour and a half of waiting in line, we finally reached what we thought were the elevators to the top. Except all of the signs we were seeing said "stairs only." Which would have been good to know an hour and a half ago. So we asked and surely enough, we had just stood for an hour and a half in the wrong line. After all that, we had to walk 328 steps up to the first platform. We walked up these brown steel steps all the way to the first platform, and that was actually the scariest part. And it wasn't because of the height (although it didn't help), but because it was really windy and there were people running up and down the stairs, and both of those factors combined made the entire thing shake. So here I am, walking way higher than my brain is used to dealing with, the stairs are shaking like the entire thing is about to just blow over, and the wind feels like its going to carry me away. I was not in a good place, mentally. But I kept chanting "I'm a big, brave dog," like Chuckie, from the Rugrats used to say (yes, I still say that sometimes when I am scared, but it really helps), and I looked straight ahead of me, rather than down, and I just made my legs keep going. Eventually we made it to the first platform. For all of you Cincinnatians reading, the first platform of the real Eiffel Tower is as high as the very top of the King's Island Eiffel Tower. So I've seen the world from this height before, but instead of looking at Mason, and Loveland, and Kings Mills when I looked out, I was looking at the lovely suburbs of Paris with its old streets, quaint neighborhoods and centuries old homes crammed together.

We spent a little bit of time on the first platform, pointing out landmarks and finding where we live (we could see the neighborhood where we live from the Eiffel Tower). We looked around in the over-priced gift shop, then made our way to the steps that would take us to the second platform. We found the stairwell and climbed the 340 steps to the second platform. So now we're twice as high as the Eiffel Tower at Kings Island. There was a better view up there than at the bottom, but we were eager to get to the top, so we bought our tickets and found the elevator - along with the long line behind it. We stood in line for 30 - 34 minutes for the elevator before it was finally our turn.

That was the most crowded elevator I've ever been in, but I was one of the first people to get on, so I was pressed up against the see-through glass wall of the elevator. It was cool, but it was scary, too. I got to watch the elevator's ascent into the sky with my face firmly pressed against the glass. And that elevator moved. It was one of the fastest elevators that I've been on. Or maybe it just seemed that way because I could actually see our progress up the tower. And there were these handy little windows in the ceiling of the elevator, so that everytime I thought that we surely must be getting there, I could look up and see that we still had a lot more distance left to cover than I was comfortable with.

When we finally reached the top of the Tower, it was all worth it. The views of the city were absolutely breath-taking - I would have expected nothing less, but it was so amazing that it blew away my expectations. If you are going to Paris and want to have a breath-taking experience, go to the Eiffel Tower, wait in line (its worth it, I promise), and go all the way to the top. You will never forget it.

France V. America: The Cultural Differences

France is a very unique place. The people, the places, the customs, the sights, the sounds, the smells. There are big differences and little differences between our two cultures, and I love them all! Here are some things that I have noticed that are different here:

• If you want to turn on a light, you flip the light switch down (not up) and vice versa. When I first got here and tried to turn on the light in the room, I thought the bulb had burned out!


• There isn't a lever on the side of the toilet to flush the toilet like in America. There is a button on top of the toilet that you push to flush.


• There aren't mailboxes on street corners like there are in America (at least that I have found). You have to take your mail to the post office.


• Elevators are the exception. Expect to walk up stairs everywhere.


• Usually you do not tip waiters; the service is included.


• Waiters do not check on you while you are eating. If you need something, you get their attention. Do not expect them to just come and fill up your drink or bring your check. The french consider it to be very rude for the waiter to come to the table unsummoned, because they view it as they are being rushed... the French are very serious about their meals and take their time eating.


• Lunch is the big meal in France. Children go home from school for two hours of lunch everyday, and adults also get a lovely two-hour lunch break, before heading back to work. This goes back to the French being very serious abou their meals, as well as being masters of leisure. As a result, stores, restaurants, and places like the post office are PACKED between noon and 2 pm.


• Lanes of traffic exist, but the French rarely pay attention to them. I saw a taxi stop in the middle of the road (without even attempting to pull over) to pick up a customer. Other cars, with out really making a big deal out of it, just swirved over into oncoming traffic to go around him.


• In Paris, you park where ever you can fit your car. I have seen cars backed up onto sidewalks to fit in a space half the size of their vehicle.


• Watch out for motorcycles on sidewalks. Apparently it isn't against the law for motorcyclists to drive on the sidewalks (or just no one cares). The French are not stifflers about driving laws to any degree. I'm actually not sure what the police actually do here.


• Just because someone thought it was a good idea to hire someone to be a bus driver, it doesn't mean that person is a good (or safe) driver. I was on the bus on the way from the airport to my residence hall when the bus driver missed the turn he was supposed to take. Instead of just driving around the block like a sane person would, he just made a hard left across two lanes of traffic, pulled up on the side walk, stopped inches from the front door of a store, and did an Austin Powers eight-point turn in the middle of the street, in the middle of traffic with cars beeping incessantly. Did I mention that this was a BUS?? Kaylin and I were laughing so hard I thought I was going to pee my pants. Taking the bus is always an adventure in this city.


• The Parisians have a different idea of what American food is. I went to a Greek restaurant and I ordered a uh... well I'm not sure what I ordered, but it was delicious. Anyway, I asked the guy what kind of sauce he was putting on my food, and he said it was "American Sauce." I have never seen this substance in my entire American life. And I have not only lived in America my whole life, but I have been to most of the country. But whatever, I gave it a try. Maybe it was something have had, just in an unrecognizable form. I bit into whatever I had just bought and nope. I had never tasted that sauce in my life, either. It was good though. Tangy, but sweet.


• Stores in France can only have two sales a year: one in January, and one in July (I came at the right time!), both about six weeks long. The point of the sales are to get rid of last season's fashions. So if you're coming to Paris to go shopping, come in January or July.


• I just paid 8 euros to do ONE load of laundry.


• The French do not consume ice. If you go to a restaurant, you will not get ice in your drink. If you ask for ice, you will get a funny look and the restaurant-wide realization that you are an American (if they hadn't already noticed).


• The French are not afraid of or offended by nudity. I went into a tabac (there's not really an english equivilent, but you buy cigarettes, lottery tickes, and train/show/metro tickets there) and there was a postcard with two very naked women on it on a post card rack, right next to a rack with children's birthday cards.

That's all I can really think of right now, but I am finding new ones everytime I walk out my door. That is one of the best parts of this trip!

The Catacombs of Paris

I went to a very unique and often unnoticed or unthought-of part of Paris – the Catacombs of Paris. The Catacombs of Paris are extensive underground tunnels in which the remains of the long-deceased people, buried in Paris' overflowing cemeteries, were put to make space in the city over two centuries ago. In the late 1700's, Paris was growing and running out of space not only for the living, but also for the dead. A few Parisians in high places came up with the idea to empty the city's very full cemeteries to create more space. But where to put all of these dead bodies? There were a bunch of tunnels from a quarry just south of Paris (in modern-day Paris' 14th arrondissement) that were no longer in use. It was decided that these old quarries would be a perfect place to put the remains of all the deceased from the cemeteries. The graves were dug up and the bones were taken into the quarries and stacked from ceiling to floor, in sometimes artful arrangements. The grounds were blessed by a priest and considered "sacred ground."

Today, the curious traveler may descend the 130-step spiral staircase down into the quarries, deep into the surface of the earth and walk amongst the remains of Paris' permanent residents, resting deep under the bustle of one of the busiest and most famous cities in the world.
It is a very long subterranean walk through dark, damp tunnels with very low clearance (for once, being short has its advantages) in order to reach the tunnels that contain all of the skeletons. At the entrance to these creepy catacombs, there is a warning carved in the stone door frame above the door: “Arrête! C’est ici l’empire de la mort.” It means “Stop! This is the empire of the dead.”

As soon as you pass through the doorway that bears this spine-tingling warning, you are immediately surrounded by thousands upon thousands of bones and skulls. It is very chilling as you realize just how many dead bodies were removed from what they had thought was their final resting place to the catacombs. At each section of remains that you come to, there is a stone plaque indicating the cemetery from which they were removed, and the date that they were moved. There are also little poems and prayers for the dead carved into stones scattered throughout the catacombs. On both sides of you, bones are stacked upon each other sometimes three or four feet high, sometimes six feet high, with the black hollow eyes of the skulls staring out at you from the wall-like stacks of bones. It is a very strange feeling coming face-to-face with a “person” who lived hundreds of years before you. Paris has been inhabited by different peoples for thousands of years, and has served as a capital city for about three thousand years. These skeletons, which were removed from their graves over two hundred years ago, could have been in their graves for centuries before being removed. After all, they were already skeletons when they were removed, so they were dead for quite a while. I could have come face-to-face with the skull of a person who had lived during the rule of Charlemagne or the Crusades or the European Renaissance, or someone who had witness the building of the Notre Dame or the Palace of Versailles.

It was a very long, cold, and morbid walk through the 1.7 kilometer (about a mile) catacomb. It took about forty-five minutes from start to finish and by the end of it, I was ready to be out of there. But I really wasn’t as creeped out by the skeletons as I was interesting in them and imagining their stories (I’m a writer, it happens automatically). I was more concerned by the fact that I was deep underground and that if there were an earthquake, I would be in big trouble. It was also really cold and since it was raining, there was water everywhere. It was leaking through the ceilings of the catacombs and gathering on the floor, making everything wet and slippery.

Overall, I am glad that I went. It is one of the most unique places I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting, and certainly an experience I will never forget. If you’re ever in Paris and want to step out of your comfort zone while experiencing history, then I highly recommend a visit to the Catacombs of Paris.

Musee du Louvre

I saw so many world-famous pieces of art last night, that it still hasn't quite sunk in. I went to the Louvre with Kaylin for the last four hours that it was open because on Friday, after four o'clock, it is free for people under twenty-six years of age. We spent the entire four hours there, took over two-hundred pictures, and I still feel like we only covered a tenth of the entire place. It was incredible. I got to see the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, and hundreds of ancient Egyptian, Greek, Roman, and Etruscan pieces of artwork. I even got to see a mummy! I was very exciting.
Of course, I was most thrilled with the ancient Egypt Exhibit. There were a lot of artifacts and pieces of art that I have only been able to see in photographs since I was a little girl, and I finally got to see them in person! They were everything that I hoped they would be, even if they were different than they looked in the photos. Some of them were much smaller in person than they seemed in photos, and some of them were much bigger and more colorful. They had statues, toys, jewelry, wall carvings and paintings, papyrus scrolls with heiroglyphics written by ancient hands, coffins, sarcophogi, mummified cats and alligators, pottery, everything that would have been used by the ancient Egyptians. I was in HEAVEN! It was so much fun to see all of it in person for once, rather than in books or on the internet. Of course, its always better to see things with your own eyes rather than through someone else's eyes.

We are going back to the Louvre on Sunday because admission is free on Sundays. We have a lot left to see so we will probably going back there every weekend, so that we can get most of the museum in. They say that it takes six weeks or so to go through all of the museum. It really is that big, too. I didn't believe that before I actually when there, but having seen it from the outside and inside, it must be true. It is the largest building I have ever seen in my life! If I were to try to take a picture of the building, I would either have to stand a mile away, or I would have to take a series of ten pictures. The building is shaped like a U, with two wings that must be a half a mile long each. There are two glass pyramids surrounded by fountainst sitting inside the U, one really big and the other one very small. The bigger one is the entrance to the museum. When you enter, you go into the pyramid and down a marble spiral staircase (or there are escalators for those of you lazy bums who would rather have a less climactic entrance into the most famous museum in the world). When you get to the rez-de-chaussee (ground floor, which in this particular case is actually underground, but what can you do), you have three different options for which wing you would like to go down. The one on the right is Denon, which will take you to the Mona Lisa, and the Italian, Spanish and French works of art. The wing straight ahead of you at the entrance is Sully, which houses art of the ancient world; however, the top floor of Sully features French art from the seventeenth to the nineteenth centuries. The option to your left is Richelieu, which will take you to European art from the Middle Ages, the Renaissance and seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

I have so much left to see!

Classes and Musee d'Orsay

It is a chilly day in Paris. It is sixteen degrees celsius (about sixty degrees fahrenheit) which would normally be the perfect temperature, except it is rainy and really windy and the sun has been hiding all day.
I had two classes today: my regular french class with Madame Virginie. I am in that class from nine in the morning until noon. It is a really good class and the teacher is very nice and patient. There are probably twenty-five students in that class and I only five of them are Americans. Everyone else is from Asia, the Middle East, and other parts of Europe (a few from Spain). We are put in such diverse classes so that we are forced to speak french, since french is most likely our only common language. It is really cool to meet so many people from around the world.
My other class is a writing lab with Monsieur Douand, and it is much smaller. We have class after the two-hour lunch break (I love this country) from two o'clock until five o'clock. Again it is a diverse group; only two other Americans are in that class. There are three Pakistani students, a Brazilian girl, a german girl, a guy from Slovenia, two people from China, one girl from Hong Kong, and one from Japan.
After class, Kaylin, and our friends Amanda and Arielle and I went to Musee d'Orsay, which is an old train station that was converted into an art museum (similar to the Union Terminal in Cincinnati, but much bigger). It had a lot of very famous original works of by artists such as Van Gogh, Monet, Manet, Cezanne, Matisse, Gaughin, Degas, and Renoir, amongst many other great artists. It featured art from movements such as naturalism, symbolism, art-nouveau, and the ever-so famous impressionism and post-impressionism (such as Van Gogh and Monet). The art is from the 1800s to the first half of the 1900s. Unfortunately, my camera's batteries went dead about twenty minutes into the museum, but worry not, friends and family! I will be going back so that I can get more pictures. I was, however, able to get a few good pictures of some statues and a painting or two.
On the metro, on the way back to the dorms, some musicians got on the metro and started playing music. One guy played a fiddle and the other guy played an accordian, and they rocked out! I had heard that that happens on the metro, but that was the first time it had happened when I was on it. It was quite entertaining!

Visiting The Eiffel Tower And Other Strange Wanderings In Paris

It is a chilly, rainy day in Paris and somehow it manages to still be beautiful. Kaylin, Russ' cousin Drew and I took le metro up to Montemarte, which is the north side of Paris and the highest point in the city. We met up with a friend of Drew's in Montemarte and walked up the lovely cobblestone streets and steep staircases, winding through charming backroads until we finally came upon Sacre-Coeur. Le Sacre-Coeur is a large basilica that was built in the late eighteen-hundreds and it overlooks the entire city of Paris.

The inside of it is absolutely incredible. Unfortunately, it is forbidden to take photos inside the church because it is a sacred place of "perpetual prayer." I'm not really sure what that means besides the fact that I couldn't take pictures, so I have no photos of the inside. The ceilings inside were so high and carved completely from gray stone. There is one big dome in the center of the building and a half-dome at the end of the building with a mosaic of Jesus and I guess a bunch of saints, all outlined in gold. There were statues of Mary everywhere, carved out of stone and marble, there were little alcoves built around the inside of the church, each of them devoted to a different saint. There were tables of candles set around of each of these alcoves, and people were lighting them and I think they were praying. You were not allowed to talk or make noise, and the man at the door was turning people away for people dressed inappropriately (tank tops, shorts, etc). I don't know much about Catholicism, so I wasn't really sure what was going on most of the time, but it was the most beautiful church I have ever been to.

Kaylin and I split from Drew and his friend and took le metro from the north of Paris all the way to the south of Paris in Montparnasse to try to see the Catacombs, but unfortunately it was closing as we got there, so we will try again another day

Last night was quite an adventure. Kaylin and I left the dorms around nine o'clock last night to take a walk around le Jardin Luxembourg (Paris is really far north, so the sun doesn't set until like ten-thirty at night). When we got there, it was closed, so we just walked around looking for something interesting to do. Suddenly Kaylin looked at me and said, "Let's go to the Eiffel Tower!"

I thought that was a wonderful idea, considering that at night they put on a light show there. So I pulled out my handy-dandy Rick Steves' 2008 France travel guide, and turned to the Metro map. We found what lines we needed to take to get there, and went straight to the Cluny-La Sorbonne metro station. We had to switch trains three times and walk for a while to get there, but it was so worth it.

The Eiffel Tower had blue lights on it, making it glow against the city background. Soon after we got there and started taking pictures, they turned on these white lights that blinked all over the Tower, making it sparkle like a diamond. They started out blinking slowly, then over time they got faster and faster until the Tower was a fantastic blur of blue and white.

As we were leaving the Eiffel Tower, we ran into a group of about seven girls from the Auburn group. They were also leaving to go to a cafe and invited us to go with them. Unfortunately it was nearing midnight and all the cafes were either closed or closing and we were tired. So Kaylin and I decided we just wanted to go home and three other girls joined us. Four of the others decided to venture on in there quest for an open cafe so the group split. We walked around for about twenty minutes looking for a metro station before we realized that we were lost. In Paris, in the middle of the night.

But fortunately I had my handy-dandy Rick Steves' book with an excellent map of the metro and the streets. After about a half an hour of wandering around and directions from a waiter at a cafe that was actually open, we found the metro with twenty-five minutes before it stopped running. Two trains later, we were back at the dorms!

Sick In Paris

Bonjour!

Today has not been a very good day. I've been sick and have spent a good part of the morning in deep conversation with my garbage can. I was really dehydrated on top of that, as well. Kaylin went to la pharmacie and spoke to the pharmacist who gave her some anti-nasaea pills to give to me. Then she went to Monoprix, which is our local corner grocery and she bought a 1.5 liter bottle of water for 36 cents (super cheap in comparision to the $1.39 for a 20 oz. bottle of water in the States) and a pack of crackers. I feel better now, but I have very little energy. The group when for a walk to Montparnasse (a suburb about two miles south of where I am) and I made it for about a half a mile before I had to turn around and walk back by myself. By the time I walked back and climbed four stories to my room, my legs were shaking. I took a nap, then got up and have been writing in my journal and waiting for dinner, which isn't until six thirty in the evening.

Turns out, there were a few other girls in our group that were sick today with the same thing. Dr. Morris has taken ten groups to France for study abroad and he told me that every year, a few students will get sick during the first week due to changes in diet and the water and just general neglect of their health. Apparently it is normal to have a least one rebellion of the digestive system (from one end or the other, its a 50/50 chance) when traveling abroad, so truthfully I am glad that I got mine over with in the beginning. Well, relatively glad anyway.

I need to get a shower so I don't smell bad for dinner. I don't think even the nuns will be able to forgive me if I came down to the dining room in my current condition.