Anne Marie : Le voyage est un retour vers l'essentiel. [Proverbe]

Happiness is…

…a grandmother-esque travel agent providing a written description in Greek of an immersion boiler to a tourist in search of a cheap way to make coffee on overnight ferries.

…paying 1 euro and 20 centimes for a pita sandwich with extra tzatsiki and eating it in view of the Acropolis lit up at night (and having garlic breath the next day no matter how many times the teeth are brushed).

…two bottles of red wine, good company and the Trevi Fountain on Valentine’s Day.

… laughing at just how much the tower in Pisa is indeed leaning.

…boats, trains, buses and the hope of ending up in the right place on time for the next leg of the journey.

…spending the night on the floor of a quiet room that does not smell like cigarette smoke.

…returning from vacation to care packages, valentine’s cards and love letters.

…adventure, friendship, learning, living, exploring and eating an entire bag of microwave popcorn while reflecting on the past two weeks.

Friday, February 12th

Day 1.

Snacks packed (two bags worth), to-go mug full of coffee and we were off. The first few trains were uneventful until about hour 8 of the journey when Germany stares from the food bag she has been carrying, to me and then back to the bag asking me if “Vagina” means what she thinks it means. I assure her that yes, yes it does. Somehow, by luck of the draw, she ended up being the pack-mule for my Vagina Monologues sack full of our snacks while I was carrying the non-descript red and orange striped food bag. Side-aching laughter ensued (and she become so found of the bag throughout the duration of the trip she insisted on carrying it).

9:26 pm – deeply engrossed in finishing The Time Traveler’s Wife I am drawn from my reverie to see a man in orange yelling in Italian at Germany who looks like a confused hot air balloon about to take off. I finally make out the word “Genova” and I figure he is trying to find out if this is the train going to Genova so I continuously repeat “Genova, yes, yes, Genova” till my laughter preventing any intelligible words from escaping my lips.

We spent the evening in a freezing overnight train from Genova to Rome with positively disgusting toilets… but WE WERE IN ITALY!

Saturday, February 13th

Day 2.

Around 6 am, we arrived in Rome. Physically worn out, but WIDE AWAKE after 2 euros well spent on two café americanos (a shot of espresso with hot water poured in). We made our way to our hostel – conveniently located a five minute walk away from the train station. What a glorious, glorious feeling it was for the front desk worker to allow us to not only leave our bags for the day even though check in is not until 3 pm, but also to enjoy showers AND free breakfast before heading out into the eternal city (maybe we smelled and looked hungry, maybe he was just very kind – either way, success).

The first thing we did, like the true tourists we were, was head straight to the Coliseum. It was amazing to be walking along and then – “ah, off in the distance, the Coliseum…”

We spent our time meandering about inside trying to block out the other tourists and tap into the energy and history of the place – imagining (to the best of our creative powers) what it must have been like.

We ventured around ancient Rome a bit, enjoyed another round of café americanos and headed to the Campo dei Fiori for one of my favorite European experiences – the market! The colors, sounds, and smells were all remarkable and bursting with life – the spice stands tempted my coin purse and Germany walked away with some authentic noodles.

Making our way through Roman streets – eyes peeled wide trying to take it all in – we headed to the Piazza Navona, showered in confetti from the Carnival celebrations and packed with art dealers, a theatrical performance, and musicians scattered throughout, we indulged in our first Italian pizza by the slice and soaked up the sunshine and our merry surroundings.

Following the Piazza Navona, the Spanish Steps were our goal and en route we visited the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain.

Upon reaching the Spanish Steps we found our legs a bit tired but our ambitious minds were set on scaling the steps and taking in the view.

We headed back to the hostel where we checked in and agreed on a bit of an afternoon nap, followed by window shopping, visiting a nearby church, venturing to the supermarket and enjoying some Sangiovese, pizza and loads of laughter with a gal from Canada we met at our hostel.

Sunday, February 14th

Day 3.

Happy Valentine’s Day! Breakfast, showers and off we were to Republic Square, followed by a visit to the Teatro dell’Opera, loads of window shopping and entering into gourmet food stores, then we found ourselves in a random park with an enormous statue followed by the Quirinal Palace, where we knew nothing about the place, but had choices – to stand in line and visit it, or not to stand in line. Oh a whim, we lined up and it was a well-made decision! Before entering the palace there is some pretty tight security – metal detectors and x-ray machines with big signs showing swiss-army knifes as a no-no… as luck would have it, Maren was carrying her swiss-army knife in her purse… we again had two choices, back out of line… or cross our fingers. Fingers crossed and we were through! We visited the Italian equivalent of the White House and it was amazing – from the art and sculptures to the massive clocks (all made in Paris!) or the oriental art, what sights we saw!

We then wound our way back to the Piazza Navona to take in the music, art and inspirational surroundings a bit more, followed by a walk towards the Castel Sant’Angelo, enjoying calzones along the way (cheese, olives, artichoke, asperagus and garlic in a wonderful doughy crust!). The Castel Sant’Angelo had amazing views of the city, and we even saw a bridal party crossing the bridge below!

Upon exiting the castle we walked along the river and saw the Palazzo di Glustizia, the Mausoleo Augusto and made our way up the major shopping street (like the Rue de Rivoli in Paris) to the Piazza del Popolo where we climbed up Montmartre-esque steps (and were sprayed by Carnival lovers with silly string). After soaking up the view, we made our way to the metro and what do you know – down the escalator we went, and I was playing with my ticket along the side of the escalator when it stuck in the rut between two metal pieces and down we went, while up it seemed to go and I grabbed it back just in time (imagine explaining that to the metro police if they caught me without a ticket!).

We returned to the hostel for afternoon snack, instant coffee and relaxation before heading out to see Rome at night!

Valentine’s evening was a girls night out with our new Canadian friend, we started at the Coliseum to see it all lit up, then made our way through the eternal city to the Trevi Fountain where we drank wine out of plastic cups, enjoyed pizza and gelato and witnessed two proposals! We ended the evening merrily (even though I missed my love something fierce)!

Monday, February 15th

Day 4.

Monday was Vatican day, an entire day reserved for exploring the depths of the Vatican Museums and St. Peter’s Basilica. The initial line was intense, but the student discount made us happy campers as we soaked up the lavish and overwhelming works of art surrounding us on all sides! Raphael, Michelangelo – and no I do not mean the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! The Sistine Chapel knocked the wind out of me. Germany was overwhelmed by the massive crowds and rude tourists sneaking photos, and I was overwhelmed by the passion, dedication and legacy staring down at me from above.

We wrote postcards and used the Vatican post before heading to St. Peter’s – where security seemed to be paying attention to the monitors and we were quite glad Germany’s swiss army knife had sat this one out. It was remarkable, the most massive church I have ever seen. I could not believe it.

I am better at describing meals and crowds than sights, but words fail me in detailing the overwhelming presence and energy of St. Peter’s.

We picked up some provisions from the supermarket and had the not-so-pleasant (but hilarious) experience of realizing I had locked the key for our lock in our locker at the hostel. A saw, lock-cutter, and Taiwanese guy insisting he help because he is a man later (grrrrrr)…

Tuesday, February 16th

Day 5.

Off to Bari we go (to catch our ferry to Greece!). An uneventful train ride, followed by losing each other as we separated to search for information about getting from the Bari train station to the port later, we were aboard the number 20-slash bus and soon encountered 4 ticket controllers who scared poor Germany even though our tickets were perfectly valid (apparently, someone has a history with the German ticket controllers). Upon finding the port we checked in for our ferry and searched for food, resulting in the most amazing pasta meal of my life, fresh noodles in a delicious pesto sauce with a fishbowl of red wine. We walked around for a bit, enjoyed some coffee and were taught in a rather wicked downpour as we wandered around the port figuring out exactly where one gets on the boat.

We were the first two people in the Air-Seat section of the boat and settled in for our journey. The best moment of the ferry journey was being awake around 5 am, splurging for coffee, and taking in the spectacular views from the deck in perfect solitude.

Wednesday, February 17th

Day 6.

Our SuperFast Ferry was late getting in Patras – hungry and dirty, we found the train station, reserved our tickets to Athens (or so we thought) and ventured out for pita sandwiches and French fries with aioli. I adore Grece, but one thing I am not sure I will ever get over was the lack of synchronization for the train station clocks. I do not mean a matter of ten minutes difference; I mean that none of the clocks in the station were even on the right hour. With the time difference between Italy and Greece, some serious fatigue issues and general confusion about what time it was, we were in a state of sheer confusion. A few deep breaths later, we were on our train where I dozed in and out of slumber with the warm sunshine pouring onto my face and either views of the sea, mountains, or lemon trees greeting my eyes whenever I pealed my eyelids back long enough to take in the sights. Ah, to sit back and relax until Athens, what a pleasant, pleasant thought.

Reality soon set in as Germany poked me awake and the conductor was yelling and making hand gestures that meant absolutely nothing to either of us. Conversing in French and trying to figure out what the heck was going on, the world sent us a helping hand in the form of an elderly Greek man who explained in broken – but understandable- French that we have to get off the train, get on a bus, then get another train to get to Athens. Dear lady at the train station who helped us reserve our tickets, a bit of warning would have been nice. Bustling off the train we were faced by two buses, stashing our bags below one of the two buses and piling on all we could think was “please let us get there, please les us get there…”

A bus ride, another train, and two metros later we found our hostel – a steal at 12 euros and 50 centimes a night for a private room with bunk beds, our own bathroom, and breakfast. After washing away layers of dirt from trains, buses, boats, buses, trains and metros, we ventured out to Monastiraki – right by our hostel, where we ate delicious pita sandwiches for 1 euro and 20 centimes and stared up at the Acropolis all lit up at night. It seemed to be welcoming us to Greece!

Thursday, February 18th

Day 7.

Waking up it seemed to take me forever to find the strength to climb out of bed – a bit of a cold or sinus infection from all the traveling I suspect. After a wonderful hostel breakfast, morale was back about where it should be we decided to spend the day figuring out the rest of our time in Greece. We reserved tickets to get back to Patras for our boat to Italy, we grocery shopped, we explored options for visiting islands or Delphi, I made a massive amount of trail mix in a gallon sized ziploc bag, and we eventually made our way to the tourism office and a travel agency where we booked a ferry to visit Aegina, a nearby island. Given limited funds, we decided to spend most of our time exploring Athens and not burst our budget by trying to do too much.

While at the travel agency, we were helped by the loveliest, grandmother-esque lady. Inspiration knocked me upside the head, and I inquired if she knew where we could find an immersion boiler (only I did not know the name even in English and so I did my best to explain that I wanted a coil that heats up one cup of water). The wonderful woman not only wrote me out a description in Greek so I could show it to shop keepers, she also drew a picture (like she knew I am artistically challenged!).

We explored, shopped, showed my little piece of paper to workers at a bagillion stores, ate pitas, soaked up the sights, bought proper tennis shoes for Germany whose feet were a bit sad and in need of comfort, purchased souvenirs and the ended the evening with strawberries from a fruit stand, pitas, Greek wine and the glory of hanging loads of handwash up around our room (promising clean clothes in the near future).

Friday, February 19th

Day 8.

Bright and early we rose, and off we went to the Acropolis. We wound our way through small side streets, taking in the Ancient Agora and the sights and sounds of Athens waking up. It was amazing. There were hardly any other tourists up at such an early hour, so we were able to meander, reflect, and take in some of the very things we had each studied in high school history. I had numerous flashbacks to 9th grade and was amazed by my surroundings.

After getting our fill of the sights, we headed to the Acropolis Museum where our reflections and experiences of the Acropolis were complimented by exhibits and facts. I liked having the time to ponder and reflect what could have been, soaking things up and then approaching the museum armed with my own notions and observations.

We had a bit of afternoon down-time and then headed out, exploring markets, searching for an immersion boiler, and wandering in and out of interesting looking shops. We found a strike in front of Syntagma Square, where we were to take a bus from the following day to get to the port city of Piraeus so we decided not to chance it and use the metro. We shared the most delicious piece of baklava, picked up dinner supplies from the supermarket and then ventured out for some ouzo – and a second round of baklava at the neatest café right by Monastiraki. It was an excellent girls’ night on the town, and ouzo tastes like alcoholic licorice.

Saturday, February 20th

Day 9.

Sandwiches packed, we were off to the metro to head to Piraeus. Ah, Greek public transit, where sometimes one is left with no choice but to blindly follow the masses as they exit the metro, wind through streets and markets, board a bus, travel to a different metro stop, and eventually end up in the right place (Piraeus, a port town not far from Athens).

I had left my little piece of paper about the immersion boiler at our hotel, but Piraeus seemed touristy, and we had a bit of time before our ferry and what do you know – we found an immersion boiler, only it was bath tube sized and 14 euros so not OUR immersion boiler, but it was reassuring to show Germany that we were after did exist. As the people in the shops kept telling us – “You have to search for it.”

The weather for our island day was dreary with a side of overcast, so our decision to not break the budget on a several-island tour seemed well justified. Amidst the cloud cover, we enjoyed our time exploring the ancient ruins on Aegina, winding our way around the island, seeing olive groves, lemon trees and cactus plants. We sat along the sea and read our books, enjoyed a proper meal at a restaurant and found baked goods from a local bakery to eat alongside the sea. With a bit of time left before our ferry, we did a bit of shopping and, on a whim, tried a couple of shops for our immersion boiler. Our final attempt was at a store with no name, run by a mother and daughter who had a SELECTION or TWO different immersion boilers. Euphoria. When we explained we had searched all over Athens, the mother took great pride in plugging it in and showing us how quickly it heated up. I shall never forget the feeling of hilarious relief when we found ourselves an immersion boiler.

Sunday, February 21st

Day 10.

Our final day in Athens was spent at the local flea market, Hadrian’s library, the Temple of Zeus Olympic, the National Gardens, and eating baklava and spanikopita while writing postcards or reading our books beneath the beloved Greek sunshine. We even wrote a postcard to the Alençon train station, thanking them for helping us make it all the way to Athens! We ended the evening with the daunting task of making everything fit in our bags, but challenges can be good – they make us stronger (and the weight of my backpack promised to strengthen my back muscles).

Monday, February 22nd

Day 11.

Showers, 2 metros, 2 trains, random snacks and one bus ride later and we were in Patras, ready for our ferry back to Greece. Now, on our first ferry, we did not know there would be showers available, thus we packed strategically, ready to shower the following morning and feel less gross after the whole experience. AH, alas, no two ferried are created equally. Tragically we did not even have Air Seats, rather we were destined to spend the evening in the lounge, which opened down to the bar which turned into a disco at night (including drunk soccer players chanting “Olé, olé, olé…”and buckets of cigarette smoke wafting its way up promising headaches and stinky clothes). My beloved Germany lasted till midnight, when she marched her way through the bar to the reception desk and demanded a cabin because she had “booked a ferry, not a disco!” We spent the rest of the evening asleep on the floor of the Air Seat room – which, for some reason, was not for passenger use but the kind SuperFast worker happily opened it for us following Germany’s rant at the reception desk.

Tuesday, February 23rd

Day 12.

We started our day with immersion boiler instant coffee in the seclusion and quiet of the Air Seat room where Germany explained her nighttime exploit to use the toilet – the fastest she had ever peed in her life because she had to leave a shoe in the door of the Air Seat room so as to not be locked out and was horrified that someone would come and attack me during my deep sleeps – ah, true friendship.

We happily saw the Italian coast, and off we were, to find the Ancona train station. A bus ride later, we reserved our tickets and what felt like half a day later we arrived in Florence. Ah, Florence, where our hostel had listed an address and directions that… did not match up. An hour later, we had seen all of Florence, walked nearly entirely around the Duomo (MASSIVE Cathedral) and found our way to our hostel, where we enjoyed a free dinner and ventured out to explore a bit before calling in an early night.

Wednesday, February 24th

Day 13.

Art. We started our day by seeing two exquisite masterpieces – Michelangelo’s David (who stole Germany’s heart) and Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. We began our day at the Galleria Academia, soaking up the sculptures and enjoying the heck out of the history of musical instruments exhibit, where we saw the oldest known pianoforte! We then ventured through the enchanting streets of Florence to the Uffizi Gallery, covered by staunch religious art, and them like a breath of fresh air, The Birth of Venus. We studied paintings by DaVinci and were once again taken aback by our surroundings. Minds full of beautiful paintings and fascinating sculptures, we ate salads for dinner (craving the fresh produce) and wound our way through market-lined streets to the train station – and off to PISA!

The leaning tower of Pisa sure is leaning!

Back to Florence for pasta dinner (when in Italy!) and a quite evening of dark chocolate, red wine, and loads of laughs!

Thursday, February 25th

Day 14.

UP and out in search of our favorite travel companion (other than Theodore!) adventure, which we found along the oldest bridge in Florence – lined with jewelry shops! We followed our good friend adventure throughout Florence, in food markets where we bought noodles, wine, & spices… through street markets where all sorts of items tempted us from every direction. Adventure showed us the love locks along the river – people had taken padlocks and closed them along the river throwing in the key – it made us think of the tragic fate of our poor padlock in Rome!

Before long, the time had come to say farewell to the enchantments of Florence and head to Venice. Finding our hostel was an adventure which ended in me standing in the middle of six intersecting streets shouting to Germany what we were looking for while she dodged around craning up and reading all the signs to no avail and a grandfather-esque Italian man walked passed, looked back, and then doubled back speaking rapid fire Italian and eventually leading us to our hostel. Germany was incredibly weary of following some random man in a dark overcoat, I had faith and voila – we found it! Sometimes faith is the best option when we have used up all the potential of our capacities.

Our hostel was the worst and most expensive of our travels… ah Venice! After dropping our bags, we headed out, bought two beers, and perched ourselves on a little dock along the Grand Canal where we watched all the boats (and the waterbuses) go by. It was the perfect Venetian moment.

We, naturally, got lost exploring the evening away, eating calzones for dinner and loving every minute of it.

Friday, February 26th

Day 15.

Our final day started out rather… well… wet. Downstairs we went to head out for Venetian exploration and STEP-PLOP-SPLASH-SCREAM into six inches of freezing standing water – the building was flooded. It was a wet, wet day. Toursit shops were selling these wild boot cover contraptions…

Meandering about on raised sidewalks the city was still incredibly magical. We wandered, took photos, explored, found San Marco, went inside, explored, shopped, ate delicious bakery treats, wandered, explored, and meandered. The best part was truly walking in every which direction. We returned to San Marco once the waters had receded a bit – it was a very different experience without the flood! We purchased some provisions at a grocery store, explored markets, shops, churches and the likes, eventually ending the day on our special dock with our special drinks

before we ate one last slice of Italian pizza and headed to the train station for our overnight train to Paris. Along the way we locked our friendship to a bridge over the Grand Canal and through away the key.

Sometimes friends become more like family than we could ever have predicted. Ours is the story of a German and an American who speak French and have one heck of an amazing connection.

The night train was to pass through Switzerland so the conductor took our passports, which felt a bit weird but he said it was in order to not have to wake us at the Swiss border because Switzerland is not part of the schengen zone. The weirdest part was the orange lock installed on our compartment (which we were sharing with 4 other people) door. The conductor told us to be sure and lock the compartment and one of the women in our compartment explained that there have been troubles with people boarding the train while it is stopped at the Swiss border and stealing things (comforting… yet I still passed out around 9:30pm). And what do you know, around 1 a.m. I am awoken by some serious commotion in the corridor and exclamations of “valises… billet… voler, pourquoi voler?” (luggage, ticket… steal, why steal?). Yes, yes I do think some thief was aboard the train. Germany soon thereafter ventured off to the toilet (love that girl) and the police were shocked to see her and told her to be sure and lock the compartment. AH adventure!

Saturday, February 27th

Day 16.

PARIS! Where we had a full three hours to wait at the train station for our next train. While I was off pricing out coffee (I was nervous about using the immersion boiler in the station), Germany made a friend while watching a broken toilet door for some lone traveler. Germany then proceeded to get her towel out of her bag and set herself up a little nest on the floor by our bags, complete with a crumbly sandwich from the “Vagina Activist” bag. When I returned to ask her is she had any small change for the coffee machine, she handed me 90 cents from the corner of her towel. Yes, yes the woman from the toilet had watched her set up camp and given her some money. Germany tried to refuse it, but apparently the woman was very insistent. Words fail me on this one.

And here we both are, one week later, still laughing, still friends, and showing off our immersion boiler to our (jealous) roommates!

2010 03 07 A n n e M a r i e Adventures
Travel Comments (2) Permalink

Hello adventure, fancy meeting you here.

It is nearly 11 pm – my bags are packed, my ipod music selection updated, a pair of jeans sacrificed for the collected novels of Jane Austen and a bowl of oatmeal to appease my antsy stomach.

This time tomorrow I will be in Italy. The country of gladiators, Nero, Cesar and the setting of Romeo and Juliet… it could only be made better when paired with Greece, a German roomie and a Eurail pass.

Adventure, my good friend, shall we?

2010 02 11 A n n e M a r i e Uncategorized Comments (3) Permalink

Simple pleasures, the Welsh girl who drove to France and 3 years ago today….

The past week or so has been filled with a refreshing combination of the simple pleasures in life.

This weekend I read an entire Nicholas Sparks novel in under 24 hours, had a girls’ night out with my German roomie (during which neither of us understood a word of the French dubbed Sherlock Holmes and indulged in take out pizza and a good red wine), had my best lap swim session to date and finalized some of my vacation plans (I know where I will be sleeping each night of the trip, so that’s an accomplishment).

As for this week, there has been ridiculous amounts of chocolate chip and chocolate chip with nut cookies – (baked for the family of my Monday night students they keep inviting me to stay for dinner… cookie time had come), excellent lessons, delicious food, laughter (I love my foreigners in France), a great run, and our own Valentine’s celebration. I am a natural born organizer, so yes, we did have our very own Secret Santa meets Valentine’s Day a few days early gift exchange!

In other news, there is this moment when working out where every muscle feels like it is moving in unison, forward, toward something and everything else seems to cease to exist except for that moment and the forward motion. I have only ever gotten this feeling running, and much to my delighted surprise, I found it yesterday at the pool! I think it had been waiting for me to get my stroke in better shape, and voila, I would do FAST free style, followed by leisure breast stroke, then FAST free style, leisure breast stroke… it was amazing. My heart was pounding, my muscles burning and my spirit was positively delighted and refreshed. Two and a half weeks till my next pool session and I am already looking forward to it.

A fabulous pool story that cannot be left out – one day, Wales and I were chilling on the bench while the other American finished her post-swim beauty routine. Wales and I were chatting animatedly and sort of forgot we were in France and that animated chatting in English is not the norm… so these two young girls come out of the changing room and are walking in front of us then STOP, pause, turn and stare at us like we were aliens. Confusion ran wild, and once the girls were safely up the stairs we had a great outburst of laughter at the thought of Wales exclaiming “What?!?!” to the poor frightened little French girls, fortunately no what’s were said but the mental image is priceless.

Oh Wales. A nation with great leek related pride (yes, my roomie can incorporate leeks into most any dish). My particular Welshie is a lover of things. Her room is honestly bursting with some of the most useful (and useless) items a girl could ever ask for. Need a sleeping bag, she has at least three, blow up mattress, check… you get the idea. So we are sitting around eating lunch yesterday and I mention how bummed I am that I forgot my backpacking backpack at home because Germany will be wheel free while I struggle with a rolly-bag to keep pace through ancient Italian and Greek cities. AND what do you know, Wales proclaims she has a spare stored under her bed. Yes, a spare. Now I am equipped with the green “Karrimor” – and I love it. So the question must be asked, did she need to drive from Wales because she has so darn much stuff, or does she have so darn much stuff because she drove? What came first, the Welsh girl’s random positions or the trunk space?

On a slightly different tone- three years ago the 11^th of February was a Sunday. On that particular Sunday I was wearing sweatpants (the grey ones with the hole in the butt… only pre-hole), writing a poem for my French Composition class and restricted to my room as I was the Resident Assistant “on duty.” The evening ended with Shrek inspired peanut butter M&M’s (so they were green and orange and HUGE), an AWEFUL movie (which I only suffered through because of the company) and a kiss goodnight that made all the difference in life. I hereby proclaim today the third year anniversary of sweatpants, Shrek peanut butter M&M’s and the type of first kiss to last a lifetime.

2010 02 11 A n n e M a r i e Daily Life
France Comments (0) Permalink

A Tai Chi morning and a pretty darn magnificent weekend!

This morning, Wales, China and I met up in the kitchen, each adorned by our respective work out gear (China looks like a model for Adidas or some other classy line, Wales has on a fuzzy scarf and the trusty American is sporting baggy sweats and a hoodie – with the hood up). Then we trotted our-little-selves out into the middle of the high school courtyard in a drizzle of rain where China led us through some Tai Chi warm up exercises and started us off on a routine. We must have looked magnificent – the red-headed Welsh girl, China looking super classy with each move and me – doing my best to follow her movements without losing my balance. It was awesome.

FLASH back to last Friday. Lap swim with Wales and another American assistant, where I managed to alternate crawl-breast just about every other length. Then, geared with the money from our roomies and hungry bellies, we ordered some pizzas, hopped over to the supermarket to pick up salad ingredients and dessert supplies (sending 3 hungry anglophones to the supermarket post workout proved to be a dangerous endeavor!). Weighed down with our purchases, we picked up the pizzas and headed home where our other favorite foreigners were waiting for us for a night of over-eating, laughing, and WAY TOO MUCH dessert.

It was magnificent. During our glorious meal, it started snowing out… which made me feel a bit unsure of our morning plans to jet off to Mont Saint Michel…

When Saturday morning rolled around, the ground had a light dusting of snow, and we were off – MONT SAINT MICHEL, or bust. It was wild, we ended up driving through a little bit of a snowstorm for maybe 45 minutes or so, and then THERE WAS SUN- glorious blue skies and aggressive rays of suns, fighting off the chill from the cold winter air. It was splendid. We wound through ancient French towns (attracting quite a few stares as the driver is on the other side of Wales’ car). At one point, we were in need of a bathroom break, thus we ventured around a charming little town called Domfont where we found a toilet right by the Cathedral, on top of a big hill on which the city is built.

Armed with baguettes, cheese, jam, fruit and all sorts of random snacks (including left over pizza), we arrived at Mont Saint Michel and it was GLORIOUS. A picnic quickly ensued (although Wales and I had enjoyed elevensies during the drive) and we were off, exploring. As France is all about education, we had free entrance (as “educators”) to the old Abbey – which was AMAZING. Loads of stairs later, we wound our way through ancient architecture, rooms with more history than I can possibly imagine, all the while taking in incredible views overlooking the sea and soaking up as much vitamin D producing sunshine as possible.

Once we had our fill of this magical place, we were back in the car, winding our way through small towns in search of an open café – which proved quite difficult, and the café we ended up in had the French version of “Super-Nanny” playing on the TV – it was weird to be enjoying my warm beverage and hear children having temper tantrums in French in the background, AH France, at times, you amaze me. We had aspirations of finding a Creperie for dinner, but our efforts proved to be fruitless and we made our way back home. After a bakery stop, I was fairly certain the trunk had not been properly closed following the deposit of baked goods – it was like the wind was whistling in my ear. Although everyone scoffed at me as the crazy American, Wales pulled over, and sure enough, I was right! Victory is sweet. We returned home for a leek and mushroom omelet (sort of like a crepe, right?).

On Sunday, Wales and I were up and off to the pool. The weather was AMAZING. I could not help myself, I went for a run. I spent most of Sunday afternoon feeling completely exhausted.

In other news, our vacation plans are shaping up nicely! Germany and I have reserved our trains to and from Italy (yes, we reserved a bit late, so we must transfer 5 times and spend 22 hours getting to Rome – ADVENTURE here we come). We have a hostel in Rome, reservations for our ferry from Bari to Patras and then Patras to Ancona… and WIDE EYES. We will probably spend this weekend filling in the blanks on our travel plans – hostels in Greece and plans for Florence, Venice and the likes. It’s the story of an American and a German who speak French and are off to Italy and Greece.

As for the rest of today – LSAT prep, laundry, grocery shopping, lap swim, Taco and Chinese cauliflower dinner (that’s globalization for you) AND… DANCE CLASS. Yes, I started my day with Tai Chi and shall end it trying to be graceful and likely tripping over my banana boat feet. When in France with a bunch of adventurous friends, that’s how it goes!

2010 02 03 A n n e M a r i e Adventures
Daily Life
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New socks, daily tales and learning to lock the portal.

Once upon a time, there was a young American assistant living in France with a bagillion other foreigners – all housed above a high school cafeteria. This particular American found knitting to be a brilliant expression of repetitive motion producing something truly magnificent. Thus, she would knit during her down time, on trains, with movies in the background… The other foreigners, particularly a certain German, found this hobby to be rather reminiscent of their grandmothers and were a bit embarrassed when said activity would take place in public. Alas, like all brilliant trends, the knitting spread, and the most productive grasshopper is Germany herself, who made me these brilliant blue and white socks because they match the spectrum of colors of my workout wardrobe.

We spend many an evening, USA, Germany, Wales and China posted up in front of the television watching old American movies dubbed in French and working our way through balls of yarn while drinking tea. La vie est belle.

This week I:

taught 7 classes on Tuesday – 6 of which went brilliantly and one that was so ridiculously dismal it made me question what the heck I am doing here.

swam laps in the “Couloir Naguers Confirmés” lane, I moved up from my “Couloir Naguers Moyens” and it felt magnificent. It was probably a day of slower people in general in the fast lane… and I am not holding my breath to keep pace with them every time, but it was sweet.

made a ridiculously large batch of curry (with coconut milk) for nine foreigners, which we ate with a few beers and plenty of laughter.

found some “famous amos chocolate chip cookies” in my closet and devoured the entire packet in a moment of late night homesickness. They were from my sister’s visit – one of her plane snacks she left behind. They tasted like America and it was glorious. Yes, I am in France, the land of Pain au Chocolat, but the comforting taste of mass-produced American cookies was a sweet overindulgence.

pumped up my bike tires ON MY OWN. Typically, such work is delegated to Germany, she knows how to work a pump, but with a bit of supervision, I became just that much more of an independent cyclist.

played rock, paper, scissors with these three boys I tutor on Thursday nights and I honestly felt like I was 12 again. Maybe not the most language intensive activity, but we had already covered loads and it sounded like a good time.

taught Pilates to my Monday night conversation group. They are an awesome group of three friends that pay me for an English class, and (as the new year inspires fitness around the world) asked me if I knew pilates… I mean, I have taken a few classes back at GVSU… so we have been giving it a go and it is a riot. Honestly, one of the most fun things about my week, and they LOVE IT, they even bought their own floor mats and wear cute little work out outfits.

biked with Germany to go to a concert, only to find it was full and we would have to wait in the cold outside for people to leave if we wanted to enter (really France?) so we went to the grocery store to buy a bit of ice cream, only to find it was already closed (really France?) thus we returned home and indulged in left over curry (take that France!).

used the Harry Potter Audiobooks to teach English to area teachers. It was inspirational. We had been working on descriptions of people for maybe two weeks now, so we listened to the first minute of The Boy Who Lived – where the Dursley’s are described and it was great. I repeated the brilliant listening exercise at a local community center where I give an English Conversation class once a week.

had multiple (playful) arguments with Wales about ENGLISH. She says cashew like she just sneezed.

watched the State of the Union while knitting. Obama may give a good speech, but I just did not feel like he was speaking TO ME, as an American, returning in five months to (potentially) my own unemployment and lack of health insurance. It just seemed like he was talking to the generation above my own… to be fair, I still have the last twenty minutes to finish so maybe he gives voice to youth during his conclusion… we shall se.

AND I learned how to lock the portal doors at the pool. Yes, I did not listen the first time we were there and Wales was explaining how these portals work, all I remember was her telling me to be sure and hold both doors …….. I at least caught the door part, so yes, I have been holding both sides of the portal doors closed while I change and the likes and THEN this metal thing fell and locked me in on both sides. Turns out, Wales had told me to hold both doors while I lower the lock. We all got a good chuckle out of that. Who knew public pool etiquette would be so darn different?

2010 01 29 A n n e M a r i e Adventures
Daily Life
France
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Through the “portal” and other tales

My life in France has returned to a rhythmic ebb and flow following the amazing visit of my beloved family. I am feeling more and more comfortable in front of a class – finally having developed my own “classroom management style” and feeling comfortable enough in French to actually use WORDS to try and maintain order. I will never forget the day I whipped out (in accented French, but nonetheless) “Is there a reason why you are talking???” (est-ce qu’il y a une raison pour laquelle vous parlez). I am not sure who was more shocked – the students caught in the act of ignoring my Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes lesson – or myself, the words flowed out of my mouth with ease. It was glorious. Outside the realm of maintaining order, French elementary students crack me up- and they think I am so cool. It’s grand. I am not destined to be an elementary teacher, but I am enjoying the assistantship program while it lasts!

As for the rest of my future, the end of the winter holidays marked a self-imposed decision deadline. Throw myself whole-heartedly into studying for the LSAT, or finish the chapter of wanting to be a lawyer and return to square one. My tendency for extremes pushed me to really REFLECT on what I WANT out of life. HOW I want to spend my TIME. What I want to ACCOMPLISH. What I want to KNOW. How I WANT to help the world. The mental quiet of my first three months in France provided me with a fresh perspective on things and the three week visit of my family reminded me of where I come from, what I am capable of, and that I can be whatever I want to be (my mom always makes me feel that way). LSAT here I come. I am the proud owner of brand new school supplies (to make studying that much more enjoyable – highlighters, sticky notes, pencils, a cute eraser and a new notebook) and I spend quite a few hours a week at the local library making my way through LSAT review and practice problems.

In other news, I relived a bit of the Chronicles of Narnia yesterday- more specifically The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe- in all honesty, just the wardrobe part. All the mental fatigue of studying has really inspired me to turn up the gears on working out so my mind on body are on a bit more of an even playing field. I am still running, but I was craving something else. There is a public pool in town, where my Welsh roomie sometimes swims laps. I have been meaning to check it out for some time, so off we went. First of all, the place is great. The lady at the desk was really nice, we get these cool scan cards to gain access and it reminds me of the good old days back at the GVSU Rec Center. Before heading to the pool, I asked for a run down – what do I need to bring, are there showers, typical prep questions. What my orientation to the pool seemed to leave out was the WEIRD (yet amazing) little portals we have to go through. Fortunately, Wales and another American (who does not live with us, but is awesome) were with me to talk me through it. First, one goes into a portal/changing booth thing with doors on both sides. One door has a green picture with shoes (door I came in from) and the other door has a yellow picture with shoes crossed out. It was so wild. I had no idea what was on the other side of the changing booth and it was hilarious. Wales recounted how freaking confused she was by said “portals” during her first visit to the pool. AH, the French. They would have two-door changing portals at the local pool. Swimming laps kicked my butt while making me feel a bit euphoric. And another thread gets weaved into the fabric of my rhythmic ebb and flow in France.

2010 01 21 A n n e M a r i e Daily Life
France
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Sunday Ramblings…

Things I have discovered:

A good red wine is better than even the best of rosé or white, but a bad red wine is worse than the worst of the other two as well.

Black coffee is really not so bad. In fact, I sort of prefer it.

When I fail it is usually because my concentration is not in the game. This realization is more a result of our evening rounds of “UNO” and “Jungle Speed” than anything else.

I am happy to amuse myself. Knitting, watching films, working out, reading… I AM HAPPY to have down time, and for some of my roomies it seems like it is the bane of their existence. I freaking love my schedule here.

On a different note, our ceiling is still leaking, in multiple places, including the kitchen. The helpful lady stopped by and informed us that nothing could be done until the snow melted or maybe Monday. Then a man came and climbed up to take a look, and repeated the sentiment. Then another woman came and covered the floor in wool blankets (they keep you warm even when they are wet?). Still no hallway electricity (the American in me says that the water messing with the electricity is a REALLY bad idea – but this is France – so we wait and see).

Yesterday evening we celebrated the birthday of one of the other Americans in town. We started the celebration off with the film Avatar – which I thought was AMAZING. Then we were off for a delicious pizza dinner. The walk from the theatre to the restaurant was cold… very cold… and my sister had trained me in the warming “penguin dance” while she was in France… so we penguin danced our way through the picturesque snow covered streets of Alençon. It was great. Germany’s cell phone ended up missing, and I was horrified that the penguin dance was to blame, but a quick trip back to the cinema revealed it had merely slipped beneath her seat.

The walk home was complete with an epic snowball fight of sorts. It took us ages (two steps forward, one step back), and we lost half of our numbers early on in the battle (they abandoned us) but the laughter was well worth the cold wetness of snow melting through my layers.

2010 01 10 A n n e M a r i e Daily Life
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Epic Holiday Update

I have come to the realization that I am not a good blogger. I get too carried away in LIVING my adventures to actually take the time and report back about the exciting details. As I am a month behind, the time has come to catch you all up on what it is exactly I have been doing with myself over here in France, and how I spent the winter holidays…

MID/LATE-DECEMBER through now:

December in France is an exciting time of year. Christmas decorations fill the streets (and even the Elementary Schools), holiday music seems to ring out from every direction, vacation is on the horizon, AND there are glorious Christmas Markets promising hot wine, what more could I ask for (other than the obvious – FAMILY, to share this all with my family).

Alençon is the largest town in the department of Orne, and as such had a booming Christmas Market for an entire weekend. The shopping quality of the market was dwarfed a bit by my experience in Strasbourg, but it was still excellent. One of the best features of this particular Christmas Market was the offer of free hot wine on Opening Friday from 6-8pm. AND there was a snow machine, blowing bubbles from up on the Cathedral down into the little square, complete with a massive Christmas Tree right smack in the middle of the square.

We made a girl’s night out of it, drinking hot wine, eating delicious treats and ending our evening at the cinema (with popcorn, naturally) to see “Oscar et la Dame Rose” – yes, we were indeed that row of crying foreigners.

Another excellent feature of December was our HOLIDAY PARTY – complete with Raclette, quiche, ridiculous amounts of beverage, my first Christmas Cracker ever AND Secret Santa. My dear German roomie was CONVINCED I had pulled her name for Secret Santa – and she has a special hatred for my water bottle (I do come from the Nalgene nation, what’s to be expected?) and my bike helmet. THUS, it turned into a running joke that she would be receiving both a water bottle and a bike helmet. As the meal winded down, and the time for Secret Santa approached I informed all of my other roomies that no, I did not have the German, but I had wrapped my bike helmet and wanted to give it to her to open just to watch her have some heart palpitations. IT WAS GLORIOUS. Her face was priceless.

In a fun twist of events, she had pulled my name and did an amazing job. What an evening. I had actually pulled the Chinese Assistant’s name and bought her a plant (she really wants a pet – a plant is like a pet, yes?). A plant I had purchased at the market, when I had biked downtown to buy some yarn not remembering that it was market day, so yes, I did bike home carrying a potted plant. AND I stopped at the hotel my family was going to be staying at to ask about dropping off a care package to be put in their room for when the arrive, and YES I did walk into said hotel carrying my potted plant (crazy foreigner!).

The very next morning, I was off to pick up 3 of my 4 visiting family members from CDG. I hopped on my bike, backpack laden down with all sorts of snacks and beverages, travel makes me hungry and high blood sugar is good for morale. I peddled my way there, locked up my bike, was proud to have arrived 13 minutes before my train, and approached the station. AND then, all the blood drained from my face. The country of train strikes was keeping its reputation at the WORST possible moment. My family speaks no French, I have no way of contacting them, and there was no getting out of Alençon until later that afternoon. PANIC. Sheer panic. LUCKILY, my welsh roomie has a car, “ring, ring – hello – I AM FREAKING OUT, no trains out of ALENCON, can you please please, please drive me to Le Mans, I will pay for your gas…. – oh yeah, no problem, I just woke up for some weird reason and thought it was a shame I had not woken ten minutes earlier to drive you to the station, I’ll be right there.” AND we were off to the races. All we had to do was make it to Le Mans and hope I could catch my TGV from there to the airport. It was quite a morning ride. When we had to pay for the toll road, the man at the booth looked at us like we were insane and neither of us had talked so I was puzzled at how he seemed to know we were not French, and then I realized what side of the car she was driving on and it was definitely my first good laugh of the day.

I MADE IT to the airport (glee, sheer glee, and love for Wales, the entire country). I was even able to wait for family at their gate, and the fact that one of their bags was lost (the one with all sorts of AMAZING items for me – peanut butter, my favorite face wash…etc – did not even bother me. AND we were off. We ended up having to take a taxi from Le Mans to Alençon (there is no way Wales could have transported us and all the luggage) but even that went smoothly. The care package was in their room and the world was bursting with promise. Their first day was definitely the quintessential STRIKE day, and we ended it with a walk around my charming town and a delicious dinner out on the town (with hot wine)!

The following day, my mom spent her time coming to work with me – what a riot! We borrowed my German roomie’s bike, started our day with coffee and croissants and had a great time! For lunch, we reconvened with the rest of the family for a delicious French Lunch at a restaurant I had been to with one of the teachers I work with. Then we were back off to teach the youth of France some English and the likes. We ended the evening with Raclette and wine at my place (complete with the most delicious cauliflower ever, made by my Chinese roomie).

On Wednesday, we picked up our beast of a rental car, went to the grocery store, explored the town and had a nice French Dinner (complete with an ENORMOUS cheese cart for the cheese portion of the meal). Fortunately, Germany was there so we could put our brains together to translate and explain the menu. It was a great evening – and my dessert was the “chocolate trilogy”, what more is there to say?

On Thursday, with the family and rental car on red alert, I was off to pick up my fourth and final holiday visitor from CDG. I made it there with no problems (YES!), met up with my charming big sister, ate some delicious baked goods, and boarded our TGV. It had been snowing all morning, but that was no cause for concern until our TGV rapidly decreased its speed and the announcer informed us that a window in car 11 had been broken by a collision with some sort of ice chunk. Our train chugged along at a pace barely equivalent to crawling, and we missed our connection, and the next train was delayed indefinitely due to snow, and we were a bit stranded without a good way to get in touch with the family. SO, we ate more baked goods, explored Le Mans, chatted, caught up, made jokes, and finally made it back to Alençon. At this point, my patience with all things France, in particular the trains, was worn rather thin and I cancelled my usual Thursday evening tutoring. We all enjoyed dinner together, plans were made for the following day, and I got to take my sister home with me! She was a bit delirious from the travel and sleep exhaustion, so she passed out while I packed my suitcase for our family road trip through France.

On Friday morning, big sis and I indulged in extra rounds of warm beverages as we prepared a quiche, organized all of our items, greeted the family and prepared for a full day of driving the massive rental car in a snow covered France. The GPS led us astray a few times, but we ended up making it to Clermont-Ferrand with no big problems, except the crazy quantity of snow that seemed to follow us no matter where we went. In the evening, we made our way to the Christmas Market and enjoyed dinner on the town.

Saturday came and off we went, to our final destination in the south – Molleges – where we had rented a house for the week. Provence was incredibly picturesque, especially after our long drive through the snow. It was a charming first day together, and it was SO WONDERFUL to be back in the kitchen with my mom and sister. It was so much fun to be cooking together and be reminded of all the kitchen projects of my youth.

On Sunday, we rested, went for a walk in the countryside, and planned our week in the south.

Monday we ventured to Arles, where Vinnie (VanGogh that is) did loads of painting.

It was an incredibly rainy day (WRONG, all wrong for Provence). However, before the rain, at about 9:30am we stumbled across an organic vineyard and yes, my mom did some bright and early wine tasting. We even ate the “Café VanGogh” – overpriced and not the most delicious meal, but it was the scene of one of his paintings and I am not sure you can really get more authentic than that. After Arles, we headed to the coast – in the rain, and saw the Camargue – a wildlife preserve on the coast. We did not see much wildlife, probably because the rain prevented us from really exploring, but it was neat nonetheless.

Tuesday was Avignon day – we began with this huge covered market near downtown, than explored, mom and I got our hair cut (I asked for a trim of no more than 2 cm with a bit of layering and some feathering around my face – and I received an amazingly well done haircut of WAY MORE than 2 cm – sometimes what you get is not what you may have thought you wanted, but it rocks anyways). We saw the historic sights, enjoyed the Christmas Market and ate chestnuts roasted on an open fire. When we left Avignon we headed towards an old Roman bridge – the “Pont du Gard” and walked across it in the rain!

Wednesday, we headed towards the coast. My mom had decided that the traffic around Marseille was not what we needed so she picked a random small coastal town, we plugged it into the GPS and we ended up in an industrial port type city – not the charming beach town we were hoping for. The next city we explored was PERFECT, Carry Le Rouet – complete with surfers, picturesque sailboats and the likes.

Afterwards, we headed back to chez nous and were in dire need of a toilet break. I had the GPS take us to the nearest McDonald’s – which apparently did not exist, and we saw “IKEA” on the horizon, so off we went, driving towards the big blue and yellow sign in search of a clean restroom. My sister was seriously disappointed that IKEA in France does not serve the gooey cinnamon rolls, but it was a good time nonetheless.

On Thursday, Christmas Eve, we ventured to Aix-En-Provence, where it was raining (since when did it rain so much in Provence?). We started with the Christmas Market, and an indoor dessert market with loads of tasters (I love France!). We then found Cezanne’s workshop, and went off to some quarries my mom had read about where Cezanne had done quite a bit of painting. The quarries were closed, but, like any good American, my mother did her best to catch a glimpse by climbing an old stone fence, it was priceless.

Christmas morning, we exchanged presents, ate, and mulled about – with choruses of “Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas” every time I felt so inspired. In the afternoon, we went for an epic walk in the countryside, and in the evening we shared an “appero” with the people from whom we rented the house. They told us all about the history of the place, we shared some wonderful champagne and then the day came to a quiet close.

On Saturday, we were up early, packing everything into the rental car, waving farewell to our wonderful hosts, and heading north. The drive was rather uneventful. I have an amazing ability to sleep in cars, even during short trips to the grocery store and back, I happily indulge in brief cat naps. As I am the only one who speaks French, it was imperative that I stayed awake, thus I made serious progress on the baby blanket I am knitting for my new baby niece while having some quality time with Theodore, my faithful travel companion.

We spent the evening in Tours, eating Indian food (for the 1st time in my grandmother’s life, she was such a good sport as soon as my sister let the cat out of the bag that she had some baked goods back at the hotel with my grandmother’s name on them). Tours was also where my sister zipped her North Face fleece and puffy vest together and could not figure out what the problem was, it was HILLARIOUS.

On Sunday, we continued north and stopped in Alençon for a brief tour (by car) of the different places I work, as well as a stop at a market (complete with delicious galettes and crepes) and a quick stop chez moi to drop off some of our luggage. Then we were off, Bayeux bound! We stayed at the most charming hotel in Bayeux, ran by a woman and her daughter, they were lovely. The first night we ate, explored, and called it a night early.

On Monday, we ventured to the Tourism Office, where a woman who must truly love her job shared with us all sorts of great information for exploring the area, looked up exactly where my grandmother’s uncle is buried and photocopied all of the information for us. She was awesome. We then headed to Juno Beach, the Canadian D-Day beach (my grandmother is of Canadian origin and that was where her uncle had landed). It was a peaceful place, run by Canadian University Students on exchange, with an awesome exhibit about the First Nations of Canada and all sorts of information about Canada during the WWII time period. After a bit of a walk on the beach, we headed towards Omaha Beach (where the majority of Americans landed), taking a quick look out on Gold Beach (British) on our way. The contrast between Juno and Omaha was startling. It was a really somber experience.

On Tuesday, we ventured to the Pointe du Hoc – a highly fortified German outlook point, followed by the German cemetery. It is all a bit hard to explain. The worst part for me was the tombstones, especially those to unknown soldiers. The markers seem to quantify the loss of life at a distance, but what more can there be?

Wednesday we started the day with the Bayeux Cathedral and then made our way to the Bayeux Tapestry which was an AMAZING work of art detailing the Battle of Hastings. We explored, shopped a bit, ate dinner, and packed!

Thursday was back to Alençon, where we grocery shopped (I loaded up on canned goods, there is nothing like biking with a backpack of canned goods… cheers to the rental car!). We dropped off our stuff, cleaned out the rental car, and prepared for Paris. My sister and I were hosting the family for dinner at my place, so we prepared the goods for Raclette and enjoyed one another’s companionship. I had arranged a taxi to bring the family from their hotel, which worked like a charm. The return taxi, however, was a nightmare. Apparently he had been saying things to my mom in the taxi, and she said OUI when she understood 9:30, but apparently he was trying to tell her he had to come and pick them up at 9:15 instead of 9:30 – it was all a bit exciting, and after some internet research and a bunch of calls to different taxis, we got them on their way.

Friday morning the family’s taxi driver informed me that the train station was closed and there were no trains, and I BELIEVED HER. Silly me. We missed our train, I was ready to give up on heading to Paris and hunker down chez moi for the weekend, but we pressed on and got our tickets changed, arriving in Paris only a half-hour later than if we had caught our original train. For our first day in Paris we saw the Eiffel Tower,

relaxed a bit, then walked the entire length of the Champs Elysees – with my 78 year-old grandmother. We started at the Arc de Triomphe and made our way down and across the Seine to the Musee D’Orsay where we hopped on the RER and enjoyed a delicious dinner in the Saint Michel area (one of my favorite areas in Paris). Afterwards, my sister and I met up with one of her friends from university – my amazing hostess when I visited Geneva- and enjoyed some delicious crepes and laughter.

Saturday was Montmartre day, exploring, enjoying some Parisian sun, venturing into Sacre Coeur and souvenir shopping. Then we visited the Moulin Rouge – my grandmother was hilarious – followed by a visit to Notre Dame. We attempted to visit Saint Chappelle but they were not allowing any more people for the day. My sister and I split off from the rest of the family (destined for a mid-afternoon nap) and met up with her friend for some shoe shopping. Cursed are the women of the world with big feet, cursed I say. We did find me some amazing new boots, that were a bit more than I was hoping to spend, but those with big feet have little room to be picky when it comes to matters of the sole. We met up with the family for dinner, and my sister’s friend did half of the menu translating and ordering which was amazing! My sister even decided to order everyone’s dessert which was quite possible the most amazing thing I have ever seen in terms of someone ordering dessert in a foreign country.

On Sunday, we were up bright and early to brave the crowds at the Louvre on free Sunday. It was GREAT, a bit overwhelming, but great. I love Museums. We were there for over five hours, seeing all of my favorites, exploring, soaking it all up. Afterwards, we enjoyed a late lunch, and the big sister and I were off to return chez moi following the last few hours of family time. We went through Surdon instead of Le Mans, and Surdon is honestly a platform in the middle of nowhere with a lit up shack as a station. My sister was HILLARIOUS. We hopped off the train and she was a bit surprised at how very much we were in the middle of nowhere. She started quietly chuckling to herself and I asked, what is so funny. She told me she was just thinking about Americans. When I asked what exactly about Americans she chuckled a bit more and responded “what they would make of this.” I could not stop laughing. She then proceeded to a bit of a pow-wow dance to keep warm. My sister honestly should be a stand up comedian, hilarious I tell you.

On Monday, we were off to work! My first Monday class is with Professors and my supervisor – I quote my sister “tough crowd” – and I could not agree more. Monday afternoon, we had a class of younglings, which was great, and then we went to pick up Germany and China from the train station with Wales. My evening tutoring was cancelled, so sis and I made a spicy curry dinner and my roomies introduced my beloved sister to our evening entertainment – Jungle Speed.

Tuesday morning, and off we went, to teach English to the lil ones. Repeat for the afternoon, followed by walking around downtown (I even showed my sister the English book section at the library!) We ended the evening with my nigh Professor class, and the class I volunteer for at a local community center. Sister was exhausted at the end of the day, and I echoed the sentiment. We had dinner with my roomies, I repacked her bag, we chatted, and had the last night of our 24/21 (we were together for 24 hours a day, for 21 days!).

Wednesday morning, and the ground was covered in snow. PANIC. PLEASE let us not have problems. I traveled with my sister to Le Mans and we had no morning train issues. I saw her safely aboard her TGV to the airport and crossed my fingers that the rest of her travels would go smoothly. Then I was alone, for the first time in 21 days. I hopped my train back to Alençon, took a hot shower, attempted a nap, did some laundry, and spent the day in a bit of emotional limbo.

The sun continued and by Thursday morning Alençon was completely covered.

It was amazing. Snowball fight with roomies ensued as none of us had to head to work in the schools – only I was required to trek out into the snow that evening – for one of my evening Professor classes where no one showed up, then tutoring the three most amazing French brothers, and back home for dinner and early sleeps.

Yesterday, I went for a run, quite possibly one of the most dangerous runs of my life. On Wednesday/Thursday we received a bit more than 40 cm of snow, and it is all still in the streets, covering the sidewalks, everywhere! My roomies were informed to come and find me if I did not return in an hour or so. With the sun glinting off the snow, and a bit of peaceful quiet forced into my brain thanks to the repetitive forward motion, I am not sure I have ever been happier to run, even if I lost my footing every five paces or so. I returned chez moi, showered, ate, and ventured downtown (trekking through the snow all the way). We checked out the sales, stopped by the little grocery store near the train station, and chillaxed the evening away. Only Germany and I remained in the kitchen and we kept hearing a rhythmic noise – which we blamed on the other American who lives right by the kitchen “what the heck is she doing?” When I was curled in my bed with a good book, the rhythmic noise kept up and seemed to get louder until there was a knock on my door. Yes, the hallway ceiling was leaking. I knocked on Germany’s door and, once we composed ourselves from our laughing fits, she called the individual listed for if we ever have issues during the weekend. Germany ended up chatting with some French man who then passed her off to the woman we were trying to get in touch with who wanted to know if we could please call someone else – even though her name and number was listed for this weekend on the sheet they gave us when we moved in. Germany said she would happily call the director and all of the sudden the woman was ready to help us – tomorrow. Apparently some man will be coming to take a look at it… there is no hallway electricity, but we did what we could.

Today, I am hoping to run (maybe take my cell phone this time, the roads are still a snowy mess!), then dinner and a movie to celebrate one of the other American’s birthday!

Cheers to 2010 and let the good times continue!

2010 01 09 A n n e M a r i e Adventures
France
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In Search of Glühwein

It’s the story of a young American living in France with a lovely German roomie. This particular German roomie really wanted to see the Christmas Market in a French town called Strasbourg – right by the German border. These two world travelers searched the internet for a hostel, with mediocre success. The German was able to find one a bit out of town, and it was honestly their best option. The American crossed her fingers that it would work out well, sandwiches were packed – among other essentials, and they were off.

I love traveling by train. We had a fabulous journey. My book in English, hers in German, and we chatted between ourselves in French (what a sight we must be!). There were chuckles all around when my good German friend discovered our third travel companion, Theodore the bear. He enjoyed the trip as well .

When arrived in Strasbourg, we were greeted right away by a small Christmas Market outside the train station. We picked up a map and made our way downtown. As night had fallen, and we had absolutely no clue about exactly how to get our hostel, we figured we should head that way and fully take advantage of the “Capital of Christmas” the following day. First, we needed to take a tram – and yes, the two of us could not for life of us figure out where the ticket machine was for a good five minutes (mind you we have both lived in Paris, she in Berlin, and I right outside Washington DC, but there we were, stumped). Then there was the matter of the drunk man falling over in the tram – my worries started to settle in. The city of Strasbourg has some awesome infrastructure – our tram driver made a call and the falling man was removed from the tram at our next stop – my spirits felt a bit better. We hopped off the tram in search of the number 2 bus stop. We found it, in the wrong direction, and were completely puzzled by why we could not find the direction we wanted. My charming German companion flagged down a number 15 bus, the driver of which amazingly opened the door and told us the number two stop in our direction was down a nearby side street. What he should have told us is that the real stop is being torn up, so there is a temporary stop, aka an extremely shady looking sign on a post – that could easily be picked up and moved. There we were, standing on the side of some random street, more in the street because the side walk was torn up, speaking our broke French and joined by some extremely shady looking older man who came across extremely drunk and was muttering incomprehensibly… and carrying a bag that said “sac pour l’environment” – bag for the environment. Only, he was throwing the contents all about the temporary bus stop, mostly old newspapers… survey says, the bag was not originally his. And then he peed. YUP. Right there. We were at this stop for like 30 minutes, the entire time I was reminding myself – “you are a black belt, plus this dude is so drunk he would not stand a chance to fight back… and so help me if we have any more crazy adventures finding our hostel.” The bus finally came, and we were off… only we did not know where to get off the bus. An elderly gentleman asked us in French we could not understand where we were going, fortunately he was German so my partner in crime could make sense of what he was saying… and he got off with us and pointed us in the direction we needed to go. It was all so weird. AND the sidewalk was torn up, so we could either walk down a shady dark path – or in the brightly lit street. Germany suggested the shady path, and America said “pas de chance!” – no way! So there we were, tired, a bit turned around, and wondering down some random street where we saw no other people… that was until about 3 minutes down the shady street when we saw a car with people obviously having sex in it parked right under a street light. Germany asked America what I thought of the hostel she had found us… I told her we would talk about it tomorrow. After a bit more walking, and Germany suggesting perhaps we needed to go into a park that was actually the bridge to get to Germany to find our hostel, we finally found it. There is no way a blog post could do justice to our wild wild adventure that evening, and it is a true testament to our friendship that when we got to our room we fell into our beds and laughed ourselves silly about it all. It was a room with four beds, and the other two were empty when we arrived – glorious! We read, laughed, and decided to call it a night. The lights were flicked off, German told me she would take me with her to her dreams (I have been having a hard time falling asleep lately), we closed our eyes and heard the jiggling of a key in a door… our door. Talk about crazy timing…

We woke bright and early the next morning, enjoying the hostel breakfast, returned to the number 2 bus, then the tram, then off to the European Parliament… which we first saw from the tram as we missed the stop. We hopped off at the next stop and walked back, enjoying the swans and cursing the rain – which had not been in the forecast! We saw the parliament, head into town and did a bit of shopping. Morale started to rapidly plummet as the cold rain continued to drizzle down onto us. AND THEN, we purchased two enormous plastic cups of Glühwein, and it was like a fresh start.

We had a riot! Drinking hot wine from plastic cups, finding awesome Christmas presents for our loved ones, laughing, eating horribly unhealthy but delicious snacks, drinking more hot wine and just enjoying being young and in Strasbourg. It was a glorious day. Our journey back to our hostel was much smoother – although Germany had been making cracks all day about how she was going to find two big burly men to escort us back there… and there we were, hopping off the bus and there were two big burly men who did not know how to find the hostel. Not quite what she had in mind, but I got a great laugh out of the situation!

The next morning, we enjoyed breakfast and packed some sandwiches for the journey, then headed into town where we were greeted by the actual Sunday morning Strasbourg market! It was awesome! I love markets. Christmas Markets. Local Markets, I just love them all! We drank a final glass of hot wine at 10 am, purchased some friendship bracelets to commemorate the journey, and enjoyed the very French nature of the local market.

Several train rides later, we were back in our small Normandy home. An exhausted but fulfilled sort of feeling washed over me as I opened up my emails, unpacked my bag and reminded myself that YES, this is MY LIFE, and I am incredibly lucky to be living it.

2009 12 10 A n n e M a r i e Adventures
France
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Construction Paper Christmas Tree

On Tuesday evening, I returned from volunteering at a local Community Center (teaching English, naturally). As there are so many of us that live together, we have a bit of a rotating schedule of who makes dinner … my tummy growled when I could see lights on in the kitchen, and I laughed to myself and quoted Pleasantville – “Where’s my dinner” (in honor of my sister and her college friends). As I stashed my bike under the stairs I was greeted by the wafting smell of something delicious. Up I went, depositing my backpack and the likes in my room, only to return to the kitchen and have my Welsh Roomie remove a plate of food she was reheating for me from the microwave. There was my dinner! It was glorious, not only was it delicious vegetarian chili with rice, but my inspirational roomies had made us a Christmas Tree from construction paper. It was the perfect coming home. We decorated paper balls and laughed ourselves silly.

I never knew a tree made of construction paper could make a place feel so much more like home. I spent the rest of the evening knitting and watching films, savoring the feeling of being content from my head to the tips of my toes!

2009 12 10 A n n e M a r i e Daily Life
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Anne Marie