Tid-Bits I've Noted

When a German and an American attempt to converse in French it sounds a little bit like Portuguese.

Listening to The Beatles' "Look at all the Lonely People" doesn't really fit in France

Bob Marley is all the rage.

Vespas have their place.

Work just as much as you have to, then stop.

Spending money on good food is always worth it. Always.

If you have the luxury of owning a second home, put it in the south of France.

Listening to live jazz can put you in a state of euphoria.

So can rain.

Avignon Yesterday, Today Lyon

Over the weekend I visited the small town of Avignon in the South East of France. Situated on the Rhone River, it is near the better known village and appellation, Chateauneuf du Papes. Since my train ticket passed through this town on my way back to Dijon, I decided to stop off for a few days to see if this town was just as cute as I had remembered it to be. The result: mixed feelings, unfortunately.

Cute candy shop I remember from the 1st time around

Since I visited Avignon two summers ago with DEVO, the wine club at Davis, and had only spent fleeting moments on those cobbled stone streets (with beverage in hand), this time the town did not appear quite the same. Somehow I missed the tourist-infested streets and bums-lying-in-wait first time around, but took note of them this time. With the exception for these people (and a common foul stench of dog poop), Avignon was just the same as it was before: quaint and historical, with a little more edge this time.

The graffiti scene is awesome. This was on the outside wall of a bar.

The Pope's Palace is indeed not to be missed, and a few other hidden treasures I found second time around: the Cinema Utopia, a jazzy establishment which shows independent films non-stop 2-10pm daily

Cinema Utopia

And the African-influenced restaurant, L'Empreinte. At this restaurant I had the tajine de poulet et citron, which is a dish of chicken, olives and couscous prepared in a clay pot from Mahgreb (Northern Africa). While the food was definitely good, the reggae music playing in the background set a very peaceful and enjoyable atmosphere as I read my book outside on the cobblestone streets.

L'Empreinte patio

The only thing that could've made it better was the company of a friend. C'est la vie quelquefois.

Today I am in the larger, more northern city of Lyon! Here I am surrounded by Rhone varietals of Syrah, Syrah, Syrah, Marsanne, Roussane, did I say Syrah? Oh, and a lot of food, a lot of really good food.

Surprisingly Lyon started out as a village of silk weavers, and eventually morphed into the gastronomic city that it is today. Also, this city attracts many movie buffs as it is home to the first (first!) motion picture to be filmed, La Sortie des Usines Lumieres. So, long story short, Laura is definitely happy here.

As I've told my friends, I plan to eat my way through this city, known for its food, as it is within the very country, known for its food. But, unfortunately I cannot afford that Michelin rated restaurant... Le Bec, as the menu starts at 118 euros.

So today for lunch I settled for the cheaper menu of Boeuf Carpaccio, Dijon Vinagrette Salad, and Potatos au Gratin with a slice of Tart Chocolat for 12 euros. Miam Miam, as the French say!

In between meals, I spent my time in the Musee des Beaux Arts and the Musee des Miniatures et Decors du Cinema.

The Museum of Beautiful Art, was indeed just that, as it is home to many famous paintings and sculptures which date back to nearly 300 and 400 B.C.! Everything in between then and now was just as fascinating, and I throughly enjoyed the Egyptian exhibit on mummifying and the tiled paintings from the 1600's in Turkey. In one painting or another I came to think about a lot of my family and friends, and wished I could share these moments with them.

(Or somehow steal a vase or two to give to my grandmothers...)

Egyptian tombs (I left the mummified hand and head off the site for the precaution of squirmish readers :)

In the miniature cinematic museum I became greatly absorbed into each miniature recreation of cinematic themes, and the realistic appearances of them all. The detailed work that went into each masterpiece on display was astounding.

A recreation of the famous restaurant, Maxim's

The miniature scene used for the set of Jurassic Park

A Painter's boudoir

Also just as interesting, were the costumes (and face recreations) on display from famous films such as The Terminator, X-files, Being John Malcowich, and V for Vendetta!

The Jon Malcowich mask used by other actors in the film Being Jon Malcowich

After tasting a few Rhone wines at the nearby Wine shop in Old Lyon I climbed the hill to my hostel to regroup for the evening. As I hear there is jazz playing tonight near the Beaux Art Museum, I feel a nap (une sommeil or petit siest) is called for in the meantime.

Best wishes and love. D'laur signs out.

Cheers!

How the French Vacation

In everything I’ve done these past two weeks, the same question keeps surfacing, “why me?”

How can a family be so generous to open up their vacation home in the south of France to two American wine students for two weeks?

Our room attached to the main house

But not only that; lend them their winery jeep to take day-trips to the surrounding towns and cities, feed them breakfast and lunch during work days, take them on a day-tip of canoeing with their kids, invite them to dinner with their winemaking friends, include them in wine tasting excursions, and to top it off take them out to a four-course meal at a quaint French restaurant in a nearby historic village?

I am baffled, awestruck, and envious of this family, but do not have the words, even in English let alone French, to thank them enough for their hospitality and graciousness that they have shown.

Since we have arrived here we have gotten to see a lot of the surrounding towns and cities, and also still find a great amount of time for rest and relaxation. Since the warm weather and lakes are hard to come by in Burgundy, we chose to spend our last few days just relaxing by the water.

This was one of the most relaxing vacations I have ever taken. Now I am looking forward to one final week of traveling adventures before returning to Burgundy.

Cheers!

Paris For A Week

Paris, ah Paris.

It's a lot like D.C.: metro, metro, metro, and you get where you need to go - fast. Like any big city with underground transportation, really. Except you're surrounded with... 1000 more years of history? And the best food and drinks - if you have the carefreeness to splurge.

Cafe Viennoise at Les Deux Moulins (the cafe where the famous Amelie worked): 4 euro

As one exits a metro, it's almost like waking up from a dreamless night’s sleep. The sunlight hits your face and you realize you can start your activities for the day. As your eyes adjust to the bright sunlight, you walk up the stairs to the nearest street. Focusing in upon a nearby café, cobble stone walkway, or majestic restaurant sign you situate yourself at once. Sidewalks are congested with tourists and Parisians, so you must move fast, with confidence. Even when lost, walk fast. Don’t stop and look at a map – you’ll be a target. Local merchants and gypsies will pounce at once and other tourists will scoff (or maybe just mean ones like me).

The view from Pont Neuf (a bridge connecting the Island of the Cite to the mainland)

In this metro, which you will get to know well, everything functions like a well oiled machine, that is, if you follow suit. If you insist on using English – again, be prepared for the gypsies lying in wait. Luckily for me, I only fell victim once due to my own stupidity and lack of good judgment. Thinking a snapshot of the fellow metro boarder playing the accordion was necessary, I was promptly targeted by a little gypsy boy for money. Holding out his tambourine for any change, I stared back at him and replied, “non merci”. Oddly enough, I thought he was handing me the tambourine to play along, and I held back the temptation to take his instrument and shake the bells. Good call.

Accordion Player. Don't be fooled like me

My goal for Paris was to avoid the other tourists at the historical hotspots. On this account, I was successful, but did not escape the crowds of the Parisians at the 5 o’clock metro rush hour. Crammed into one car like sardines, I look around for a maximum occupancy sign and find none – boeuf. Caroline grasps my arm and whispers, “I’d like to know people’s names before getting this close” – but unfortunately I think it’s a little too late for that. Luckily we’re in and out in a jiffy, and onto our celebratory night of my 22^nd year of life. Yes!

Taking everything as it comes, my birthday went completely unplanned, and wonderfully executed. After meeting our new friend Will at the hostel the night before, an Irish man from Andorra, we invite him to follow Krystal and I in our adventures for the day (whatever they may be). Since Will was hitch-hiking his way from Andorra to Amsterdam, it was a treat to have him stay an extra day with us in Paris.

Surprised with a chocolate, maple custard crème puff at breakfast (with a candle in it), my blood sugar was high and ready for action! Since Caroline was only visiting for the day, I met up with her that afternoon at the Lafayette shopping mall, and we headed to the Luxembourg Gardens to rendez-vous with Krystal and Will. Relaxing in the summer sun and getting our fill of people watching, we concocted malicious schemes that we would only dream of executing. Though quite amusing, we resisted on acting on the pinpointed innocent civilian who needed to buy a belt, for the sake of all onlookers, and stop walking into Will’s photos. Though Will jokingly assured to pay Caroline 50 quid to tackle the man into the fountain, she knew better than to hold him to it. Ah, but how miraculous a sight that would have been, and how utterly confusing it would have been for this man. Enjoying his male companion’s company and then, BOOM tackled by an American who whispers “…butt crack..” and then bolts. Never again would he enter the beautiful garden, in fear of the butt-crack police who might lie in wait. That would definitely teach him for not dressing properly in Paris. So taboo.

The Luxembourg Gardens (sans butt-crack, photo-interrupting Parisian victim)

The night was kicked off with a great glass of Pinot from a Premier Cru of Domaine Tollot-Beaut, graciously donated by Caroline as we relaxed back at the hostel. Hearing that the Latin District is the place to go at night, we set out there with no specific location in mind for dinner. Luckily we stumbled upon a great restaurant offering a 3 course meal for a good deal, and settled in for a good two hour feast.

Will and Caroline with their 50cl of biere!

3rd course: Profiteroles aux chocolat!

Afterwards, we were all grins as we sauntered down the 1^st district streets to the Louvre. Arriving to this majestic sight at midnight was the best decision of the entire trip. In almost complete solitude we got to enjoy the structure, history, and grandness of this museum. Lit-up by the surrounding lights, it sparkled under the night’s sky.

Sitting among the flowing fountains and glass pyramids, we four toasted to this great night with a glass of Alsacian Pinot gris. Slightly sweet with honey, plastic, and green aromas, this wine had a distinct but subtle Botrytis flavor on the tongue. Delicious J

All was calm and peaceful as we continued to stare up, taking in the detailed architecture of the Louvre .

While our metro ride back to the hostel was disrupted by construction in our line, none of us hesitated in seeking out the next best mode of transportation: bikes! With rental bike locations dispersed throughout the city of Paris, we found the nearest site and rented out as few bikes as needed…which turned out to be 3 for our four people gang. Maybe two and two wasn’t put together? In any case, Will and Caroline had the bicycle built for two down pat by the time we made it home an hour or so later!

Taking an unintentional scenic tour of downtown Paris we twisted and turned down streets until the proper directions was pointed out by a local. With no complaints from Krystal and I, we followed behind the circus bikers, enjoying the moment and blissfulness of this late night ride. It was the perfect way to work off the heavy meal without wearing away at our feet, enjoying the city without the rest of the curious world-travelers, and let loose while not being stared down by Parisians.

C’est la vie!