A volte devi solo punto. Parte II.

Alright, sorry for the long absence between Part 1 and Part 2, I’ve been unusually exhausted and busy planning for the rest of our summer and next fall.  But I’ll update you on all that later.  For now… where did I leave off?

Oh right, architecture.

So after gazing up at the extremely tall buildings long enough to make our necks hurt, we decided it was time to find the museum we were most interested in seeing.  We’re lucky it served as a double attraction too!  The Mole Antonelliana, one of Torino’s most popular tourist attractions, was the tallest masonry structure in Europe until recent years.  Its a very neat looking building, with a large dome like roof.  Nowadays, it houses the National Cinema Museum, naturally something my movie-buff boyfriend would enjoy.  There’s also an observation deck that you can take a lift to at the top of the building, but we opted not to.  Not that we wouldn’t have thoroughly enjoyed the view of the city from its tallest point, but the wait was nearly 3 hours long, and it wasn’t worth wasting our afternoon over.  So we settled for just seeing the museum.  For general film and cinema fans, we really enjoyed it.  The most interesting part of the museum was its archeology of cinema exhibit, which displayed some of the earliest attempts at animation, like Chinese shadow puppets, and hand shadows, all the way through Edison’s Kinetoscope and so on.  It was a really interesting place, and served as a break from the sun during the hottest part of the day.  That being said though, it was very warm in the museum.  I don’t suppose they thought they would need to air condition it.

After the museum, we decided we needed a snack, and decided to walk in the general direction of the Po River, where as expected, there was another piazza.  Only this one was filled with one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen: a chocolate festival.  Yes, ladies and gents (especially you ladies), a frickin’ chocolate festival.  Why do we not have these in the United States?!  Obviously, I couldn’t buy all the chocolate I set my eyes on, but we did find a few things.  The candy I decided to try were these little chocolate balls filled with limoncello.  I was completely excited about these, given how recently I’ve found out that I like limoncello.  I bought ten of them, took the first bite and loved it.  Jon took one too and said it was great.  The next seven however, were not limoncello.  A few of them were amaretto, a flavor Jon and I don’t care too much for, one that Jon got tasted like some sort of spicy olive oil, a few tasted of other liquors that I couldn’t quite put my finger on (these weren’t bad, but they weren’t limoncello either), and then the last one I had, I finally got another limoncello.  I was a little (okay very) disappointed, and so we set off to find something for Jon to get.  We found a stand that had slabs of chocolate with all sort of things in them, and noticed one with candied orange peels.  Yes, please!  He got some, and we actually made our little hunk last until the evening, since it was very rich.  Obviously, chocolate being as rich as it is, we needed something to drink, and found a little outside bar on the river and had a few bottles of water.

While sipping on our water we were confronted by the unfortunate truth of our exhaustion.  At this point, it was four in the afternoon, and we had been doing nothing but walking around in the sun for 6 hours.  We contemplated our options and decided to walk back through the piazzas to the Duomo, and then through the shopping districts to our hotel and rest up before dinner that evening.  It was either that, or fall asleep before dinner, which we’d been saving our money for all day long so we didn’t want to do that.  On our way back through Piazza Castello, we encountered a protest of sorts.  I took pictures of the signs and translated them when we got home, and all I can tell is that they’re upset about some sort of cultural ignorance and what not.  They were entertaining to say the least, and very loud.  After they got a little boring, we headed to the Duomo.

Now, I understand the significance of the Duomo di San Giovanni Battista (St. John the Baptist); its not only the largest church in Torino, but it also houses the ever so confidential Shroud of Turin.  It was beautiful, like most large important churches.  That being said, Jon and I once again felt underwhelmed.  Having seen the Cathedral in Sevilla, Spain (the 3rd largest in the world) , the National Cathedral in Washington DC, and Jon having seen the ceiling height of St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague, I’m confident that I have been spoiled.  I don’t think I’ll feel overwhelmed by a Cathedral until I visit the Vatican.  Regardless though, it was still beautiful.  Next to the Duomo was a little thing that showed an archeological find underneath it, and a little further away in front of the Antiquities Museum, there’s another archeological dig.  My goodness, I wonder what’s under Torino.

On our walk back to the hotel, we came across a guy beat-boxing.  At first it sounded really annoying, until I realized he was layering each level of the song right there in the street, and once it all came together it made a lot more sense.  I bought some freshly popped popcorn and enjoyed the little show.  Then we proceed to our hotel, drained from the day and eager for a nap.

Well, the nap didn’t exactly happen, anyone that knows Jon well knows that he can’t even think about shutting his eyes more than a blink without putting a movie on.  Unfortunately, it was a great movie, which resulted is no sleep.  But at least it could be counted as rest.  When the movie was over we freshened up and set out in search of dinner.

Oh, on our way to dinner, we saw a DeLorean.  How cool!?

We saw a place the night before that looked promising, due to the fact that it was full of locals, but when we got there we realized it wasn’t really a restaurant, just a bar that served some food.  I hadn’t fought my way through the market for a cheap lunch to have bar food for dinner.  So we walked down the street a little further and found a nice restaurant on the corner.  In Europe, they usually display their menus outside, so we consulted it, noticed it was completely in Italian and basically came to the conclusion that we’ll have that problem everywhere, we may just have to cross our fingers, point, and hope for the best.  Well, to our pleasant surprise, when we were handed the menu it had an English version inside.  We consulted it, ordered a drink, two courses, and were given a free aperitif on the house.  Jon’s first second course choice wasn’t available anymore, so when he was put on the spot to pick something else, he saw a meat with some sort of blueberry sauce, pointed and said I’ll have that.  So much for taking advantage of the English menu, because we had no clue what he was getting.

The first course came out, along with our drinks, and we both ordered a cheese gnochi with a Muscato wine reduction.  The wine was in a separate little bowl and you dunked each bite in the wine before eating.  Best finishing touch ever.  We decided we have to try to recreate it when we get home.  Our main course came and we realized that Jon ordered something quite delicious.  It was a region specific beef, of which the name fails me, but it was extremely tender, and went quite nicely with blueberries.  The fact that we were in Italy meant this meal took about three hours, they move very slow there, but not in the “my service really sucks” kind of way.  They just enjoy every possible second of life to the fullest, enjoy every last bite and drop of wine like it could be their last, and every conversation as if its the only thing in the world at that moment.  Its really a nice way to live, only we were growing more tired by the second.  We had planned to take some night photography shots after dinner, but by the time we finally left, all we wanted to do was sleep.  We practically had to hold each other up on our walk home, but that didn’t stop us from getting one last thing of gelato for dessert.  When we got back to the hotel, we pretty much fell asleep before our heads even hit the pillow.

Our 6:30 alarm came a lot quicker than we’d expected.  At the time, we hadn’t realized that it was because Jon’s phone had changed times for Daylights Saving Time, and therefore we lost an hour of our precious sleep.  It wasn’t until after we checked out of the hotel and arrived to the train station that we figured this out.  However, when we did arrive we were met by the horrors of the Italian train system.  Our train’s time had changed by 30 minutes, and not the in the preferred direction.  We were supposed to have a 7:30 train out of Torino, but all the boards said 8:00.  After doing some mental math and consulting the times we had written down for a second train, we realized that this would get us to our next train station 45 minutes after the train left, because not only was it 30 minutes later, but it was taking a different route, that already took longer.  So, not really having many options, we hopped on the train, very tired, very frustrated, and at least I was very worried.

This train wasn’t as comfortable as the last, but it wasn’t awful.  I did my best to sleep the whole time, since the grey skies didn’t make for good sightseeing.  When we arrived at our next train station, it was raining, and I was worried.  After consulting the boards on the platforms, we grew quite frustrated because apparently zero trains go to France, only we knew that couldn’t be the case.  Thankfully, while walking to the information desk we saw a screen inside the station with all the French train times.  I think the could have at least had this information on the platforms, heaven forbid I had 10 minutes to transfer and missed it because I was looking for the screen to tell me where to go.  Well, our next train was about an hour away; we got some pizza, another thing of gelato, and waited ever so impatiently, dozing off every time we  sat in one position longer than a few minutes.

I don’t remember much about our last train home, or our walk to our apartment.  When we got home, our family greeted us, and Nicolas decided that he was going to bug me endlessly to play with him, despite the fact that he saw me with my hands full.  After much frustration trying to figure out what to say to a French 3 year old without upsetting him to the point of screaming, of his parents hating me, I blurted out “Je ne peux pas jouer maintenant, je suis fatiquee!” He proceed to bang on our door for a few minutes, all without his parents caring or noticing.  Not exactly my idea of a nice “welcome home”.

All and all, I’d say it was a learning experience.  I did enjoy Torino; I think its a beautiful city, the food is wonderful (and cheap!), and if I had the time or money to do any shopping, I definitely had my fair share of options.  There’s a lot of history, a lot to see, and a lot of gelato to be eaten.  Given that trains will be our main form of transportation for the second part of our trip, I’m not looking forward to getting on another one.  I hope every other countries’ train systems are better than Italy’s.

Well, you know what comes next.  Pictures!

The National Cinema Museum

And the top since its too tall to fit in one picture.

Oh you know, just some masks.

And just a lion.

The ceiling in the NCM

Just some film physics.

These are very popular in Europe. I think it needs to catch on in the US

Mmmm… Chocolate.

Po River

Us by the Po River

One of the better statue men of the day.

Protest

Protest

Protest

Protest

The Duomo

Inside the Duomo

Inside the Duomo

Candles in the Duomo

The Last Supper above the entrance

Flowers left in the Duomo

Pretty light

Some archeological find under the Duomo

An archeological dig outside of the Antiquities Museum

Beatboxer.

The DeLorean

I wonder if it can still hit 88 miles per hour.

La mozzarella è migliore in Italia: Parta Prima

Since I know very little Italian, I hope Google Translate doesn’t fail me this time! But hey! Look to the right! I finally got to use a different category!

I’ve been some what dreading this post, simply due to the magnitude of information and experiences I feel the need to share with you.  I learned a lot in a very fast three-day period of time, some good and some not so good.  Regardless, it must be said, so I’ll do so in parts.  Here goes nothing…

First let me say, I don’t think trains will become my preferred method of travel any time soon.  Especially in Italy.  This was my first time riding a train, and I found the whole process to be extremely unorganized.  I can’t exactly figure out why a more efficient and organized system can’t be implemented, because I thought of several things that would help just waiting for our first train.  I think it just boils down to the Southern European mentality.  Why bother?  It works just fine.  Except when it doesn’t.  I’ll get to that later though.

I will say that riding a train through the mountains in Italy had its ups.  Literally, my ears were popping like crazy.  Haha.  But in all seriousness, the views were spectacular.  At one point we were high enough that we got to a little mountain town just covered in snow.  It was beautiful, and for a few moments I seriously wished we had gotten off the train there.  Also, unlike in a car, I was able to read comfortably without feeling sick to my stomach after a few paragraphs, which made the nearly 5 hour train ride a little less annoying.

Once we arrived in Torino, we found that our hotel was much closer to the train station than we had originally anticipated.  We also found out that 3 stars must not have the same meaning in Europe that it does  in the United States.  The reviews we read promised that someone at the desk always spoke English, which we found to be untrue, that there was a good continental breakfast, which their wasn’t, and that the rooms were nice.  The room really wasn’t bad, just extremely small.  Not a huge deal, since our plans didn’t include staying in the hotel all day anyway, but we definitely didn’t feel like it was worth what we spent on it.  But alas, in Torino, all lodging is expensive, especially in the center of town.  If we wanted cheaper, we would have had to stay 10 miles or so out of the city’s center, which is quite difficult when you don’t have a car.

After we settled in and relaxed for a few minutes, we set out to try and find some pizza.  I’ve decided, after visiting Italy, that there is just no justifiable reason for Chicago style pizza.  Italians eat it like the New Yorkers do, and it will always be my favorite.  It was simple, and delicious.  We followed this with some real Italian gelato (which tastes pretty much just like any other gelato, but thats not to say it wasn’t delicious) and a walk to do some exploring.  We found a lot of what we planned on further investigating the next day, and bought a map of the city with all the popular tourist attractions marked on it.  It was actually kind of cool- they had those “You are here” maps in a few places, and on the side of the case it was in had a thing where you put 50 cents in and you get the same map that was displayed.  50 cents well spent, because it had everything, and in Italian, English, Spanish, French and German.  We headed back to the hotel a little earlier than we probably would have normally so we could get some proper sleep for the following day.

I have to gloat a little, because I’m proud of the fact that not only did I manage to get up and out of the hotel by 10 AM, but I also managed to shower, put make up on and straighten my hair.  Usually when I try to leave the house that early, I only manage to get the first done.  But the Italians are quite fashionable, I couldn’t let a lazy appearance scream “I’m a tourist” any more than my freckles already were.  I even remembered to bring and wear my contacts so I could actually wear my sunglasses, that I actually remembered to bring.  I was feeling quite organized.

On our handy little map, we saw a market just past the Duomo.  It being a Saturday, we figured that would be the perfect place to start.  After frequent stopping to take pictures of things (we were easily distracted), we arrived around lunch time and the market was thriving.  I’ve nicknamed it “The War Zone” because it is serious there.  Crazy even, but totally exhilarating.  Since we did arrive later than we’d hoped, we decided to buy some bread, some cured sausage (closer to a salami maybe, or those summer sausages that are popular around the holidays, but obviously much better), some fresh mozzarella di buffalo, a bottle of Sprite, an orange, and some beautiful little tomatoes.  We ended up with (on accident of course) about 4 people’s worth of food, all for under 12€.  Food is really pretty inexpensive in Italy, and since a small town close to Torino serves as the home office to the Slow Food Movement, it was all incredibly delicious.  We found a nice little place to sit down and enjoy “the goods” and then ended up giving the rest away to a homeless lady we saw with a baby on our way to the market.  It would have gone bad on such a warm day in my purse, or been smushed.   Good food, and good karma.  Yes, please.

Everything in Torino just seemed huge.  The plazas (called piazzas in Italian) were much bigger than any I’ve seen in France, and flanked by gigantic, ancient buildings on all sides.  This I found a little overwhelming, but in a good way.  I also wasn’t all that surprised (and neither was Jon) by the sights simply because of how over-taught Roman architecture is in most European history courses.  This didn’t make it any less beautiful of course, but I felt like I wasn’t seeing it for the first time.  I did enjoy seeing the sort of buildings that modern architecture was based on though.  I find architecture extremely interesting, and if I had any talent with a pencil I may have considered majoring in it, but alas, my Uncle Jay will have to remain the family architect for now.  All that being said, Torino really was beautiful, and considerably cleaner than France.  It had the same little silly trash (like cigarette butts and small pieces of paper and such) that most big cities have, but not in excess, and they didn’t leave their dogs poo in the streets.  It was nice to look up while I walked for a change.  I’ve always known the Italians to be proud (proven by the abundance of Italian flags, even though this may have been because they’re currently celebrating their 150th birthday), so the fact that it was cleaner than France didn’t surprise me.  It was refreshing, to say the least.

To be continued… (but not without some pictures!)

Torino Porta Nuova. The biggest train station I’ve ever seen.

My first gelato

Jon’s first gelato

The market, AKA “The War Zone”

The market, AKA “The War Zone”

The market, AKA “The War Zone”

The market, AKA “The War Zone”

The market, AKA “The War Zone”

The market, AKA “The War Zone”

The goods.

The yummy little sandwiches we made.

This is what we ate next to. Where else?

And the view just behind us.

The Civic Museum of Ancient Art in Piazza Castello

Roman Architecture. & See, a bunch of Italian flags!

Roman Architecture.

Royal Palace in Piazza Castello

Roman Architecture.

Roman Architecture.

Us in Piazza San Carlo

Hier, on a trouvé une chute d’eau

Yesterday proved to be one of those days where it pays to be a little adventurous.

First of all, let me start by saying that at the start of the day, I didn’t anticipate doing much more than napping.  The tickle in the back of my throat turned into an actual sore throat, and my glands were so swollen they made my entire head and neck ache.  Well when our professor asked us “Qu’est-ce que tu vas faire cet après-midi?” Jon replied (much to my surprise) “Peut-être, on va aller à Èze.” So much for a nap…

We invited Ilona to come with us, since she said she hadn’t been, and made plans to meet her near the bus station at 1:45 to make it to our 2:00 bus.  Unlike last time we went to Èze, when the weather was freezing and we welcomed the warm bus, the weather was gorgeous, which made the bus seem quite stuffy and warm.  Alas, for a single euro, I can manage a stuffy 30 minutes.

Once we got to Èze Village, Ilona realized that she had indeed been there before, and had fond memories of it.  I guess thats better than taking her some place that she hated.  We did pretty much the exact same thing we did before; a lot of uphill walking to the top of the exotic gardens.  A few of the cacti were of course, still covered, but the sunlight made everything much more beautiful.

As we were leaving Èze Village, instead of stopping some place for a bite to eat, we opted to take the path next to the hotel’s valet parking area that said something to the effect of “Èze-Sur-Mer 45 minutes.”  Èze-Sur-Mer is a relatively new little village at the bottom of the mountain that ancient Roman Èze Village sits on.  Jon, having remembered that a bus goes through the little village that could take us back to Nice, insisted we give the little path a try…

… This was no little path.  And just because it was downhill doesn’t automatically make it easy.  Though given that some of the poorly places steps were concrete, and there for not as old as the Roman village we left, it was still quite old, and not exactly well kept.  Regardless, knowing in the back of our minds that we wouldn’t have to trek all the way back up the path kept us going.  The sign was clearly written when watches ran slower though, because it definitely took us nearly an hour and a half to reach the bottom.  We did however, take a little detour.

About half-way down our little mountain trail, I kept insisting “I hear water, there’s water near by.”  Ilona was half convinced, but Jon wasn’t; figured it was just the wind rustling through the trees through the valley.  As we got closer to the source of the noise, we all agreed it was water, and that we should find it.  Jon thankfully spotted a very well hidden little path that went past a small, old ruined building, and just a little ways behind it was the waterfall.  It was beautiful.  They don’t exactly exist in Florida, so I haven’t seen one in quite a long time.  We got right up next to it too, could have showered in it if we’d wanted to.  We took a few needed pictures and after consulting our watches and our clothes, which were growing wetter with the mist, we proceeded back to the path.  Definitely a wonderful find.

That being said, the past after that seemed rather long.  Except for a few spots were the view opened up to something quite spectacular, there were no more waterfalls.  We could hear it for a while, and in one little turn of our path we could just barely see through the shrubbery to see it, but other than that, the rest was just a rather long, downhill mountain hike.  We slowly began to grow tired, and as the trees thinned and exposed us to the sun, we got warmer too.  Eventually through we noticed the path become more civilized, and a few meters later it was a paved path.  Unfortunately, if you’ve ever walked downhill something completely smooth, this part of the trip proved to be the most difficult.  Your feet and knees hurt from gravity pulling your body on them in weird ways, and you’re gate is in that awkward stage between feeling the need to walk, and the need to sprint; sprinting of course resulting in the typical snowball effect, minus the snow.  Once we made it down to flat ground, our knees and feet thanked us, and we sighed almost in unison “Oh thank goodness, flat ground.”

Now, since we decided to ignore our growling stomachs at the top of the mountain, they were particularly upset with us when we reached the bottom.  We were a little underwhelmed when we got there too, because there wasn’t much more than just some rather lavish and expensive houses, and a restaurant that doesn’t serve food in the evening (someone please tell me how that makes sense, France…).  We went searching for the beach and when we finally found a public entrance (something I’m not used to having to look for, being from Florida) we realized why Èze is known for their perfumes and not their wonderful beaches.  They weren’t really anything special, and they were inside a bay where the water didn’t move much, so it was dirty and smelly.  Either they found that they had wonderful ingredients to make perfumes and never bothered advertising for beaches, of their citizens needed something to make them smell better after swimming in the water.  Who knows?  Either way, we were ready to catch the bus home.

The bus ride home was probably the worst part of the whole day.  Once we saw a bus stop, I realized that it was the same windy bus route we took to Monaco that left me feeling a little ill.  I was not looking forward to this in the slightest, but I figured I would feel better just to have a place to sit.  Well, the bus was packed; instead of sitting and feeling every little turn, I had to stand, making me feel every turn ten fold.  I kept moving from one spot to another, probably annoying all the passengers around me, in search of a place where I could hold myself looking out the front of a bus.  Unfortunately I only found this a few stops away from ours, but needless to say, I was not hungry when we got off the bus.

I was however, starving just a few minutes after getting off the bus and on to the tram, and even more parched than before.  Jon and I agreed to get off the tram a little sooner and stop at the grocery store.  Normally in the beverage section, Jon will reach for a beer he hasn’t tried before, and I flip flop between Orangina, Fanta Orange, Fanta Citron, and a variety of other juices.  This time, all we wanted was Gatorade.  They didn’t have the same choices I’m used to in the states, but it didn’t really matter what it tasted like, it was gone before we even got out of the store (and we opened them after paying for them!).

Once we got home it was really hard not to fall right to sleep.  After dinner (which I was nearly too exhausted to eat), I took a really long shower, and proceeded to pass out just about when my head hit the pillow.  Oddly enough though, I didn’t sleep that well last night; I was moving around a lot more than normal, which would result in me waking Jon up, and then him waking me up to tell me I woke him up and that I needed to move over.  Lovely system.  All and all though, totally worth it.

Now readers, I may be absent for a few days, because tomorrow after class, we’re going to TORINO!  Finally.  I’m so excited.  I promise though, I’ll have quite the post for you when I return on Monday, so stay tuned!

Until then, the pictures:

The bridge over the valley to get to Èze

Èze Church

Random purple flowers in a bunch of daisies.

View from Èze Village on a much sunnier day.

Prickly Pears!

The crazy expensive hotel at Èze

Èze Hotel’s crazy huge granite chess board.

Uh, yes please?

Our path.

The waterfall!

So pretty and peaceful

Jon and I in front of the waterfall!

The waterfall again.

So pretty!

Halfway there!

So blue.

This is from the bottom looking up. We started somewhere past that big cliff.

Aujourd’hui j’ai acheté un miroir de poche

You know when you’re really hungry, and all your friends around you are talking about food?  Your mouth starts to water, you can hear your stomach growl louder and louder, and when you close your eyes you imagine your favorite foods dancing slightly out of reach in front of your eyes?  That was my experience in class today.  Almost all day too.

We’ve been talking a lot lately about food; how to order food, how to buy food, how to cook food, etc.  We today we spent the majority of the afternoon speaking about meal habits in our respective countries and how they compare to those of France.  This included things like “If you have a dinner planned at 8pm, what time do your guests arrive?”  In the United States, between five minutes early and on time is expected, and anything later than 10 after requires a phone call.  Well in France, if you show up five minutes early you may catch your host in the shower.  15 minutes late is normal in France.  We also talked about table manners, which was interesting, what you bring to a dinner you’ve been invited to (be it flowers, wine, chocolates, etc), and the amount of courses a normal and a formal meal has in each country.  A lot of food talk for a girl who’s been giving half of her breakfast away.  This is because the thought of a croissant or pain chocolat makes my stomach turn now, seeing as I’ve eaten it nearly every single day since I arrived.  Either way, considering the fact that I’m always a little hungry when we get out of class on a normal day, today I felt exceptionally hungry.

Jon and I decided to treat ourselves to a meal in Vieux Nice.  We walked around, reading the menus and consulting our wallets, and settled down at a table at a restaurant in the main square.  The name fails me, but thats okay, we won’t be going back.  First, one of the menu boards on the wall said “Menu 14,90€” where you could chose an entrée, plat et dessert from roughly four choices each.  We saw a few things that sounded appetizing, and thats why we picked it.  Unfortunately, though the sign said nothing about when you could order from it, we were not allowed to order from that menu.  In the US, I would have had no problem saying “Oh, sorry, we were under the impression that we could, and thats why we picked it, we’re going to find some place else.”  It wouldn’t have made them super happy, but its mildly acceptable in the States.  In France, its extremely rude, because they display their menus outside.  Essentially, you’re supposed to decide that you want to eat there, and essentially what you want before you bother wasting their time sitting at a table.  So, we found something on the menu that sounded okay, added some socca for us to split, and said “Oh well.”

I would have much rather been that “rude” American.  I ordered Poulet à la Caesar, something I’ve found to be surprisingly easy to mess up.  The chicken was really dry, and tasted like it was canned.  Given that it probably was, it was more grey in color than normal, and just generally unappetizing.  The croutons were stale and soft, the tomatoes were practically flavorless, and the lettuce seemed like its seen better days.  Jon ordered a calzone with tomatoes, cheese, mushrooms, ham and eggs, made it half way through when he noticed there was some sort of clear-ish liquid in it that seemed a tad unnatural.  Given that the yokes were runny, we both instantly thought “Uh oh, uncooked eggs” and he lost his appetite.  To make the whole thing worse, the socca wasn’t even that good, and I had been craving it for a few days.  Ugh.

After our dreadful meal, we went to the market close by.  We were expecting it to be all fruits, vegetables and flowers like we usually find it to be, but today it was a whole bunch of vendors selling all sorts of really neat things.  For instance, we spent a good twenty minutes at a table FULL of old (like, 1960s old in some cases) advertisements for nearly anything and everything.  The Coke ones were particularly fun to look at, and of course rather pricey for some.  We decided we had to go back when we had more money, because I could probably find a few really neat things for my friends, family and myself.  I did treat myself to a little mirror compact though.  I have been looking for one for a very long time, but one thats kind of nice.  The problem is, I always find the ones that are either cheap, plastic and have some brand name printed across it, or I find the super fancy and terribly gaudy ones with ugly rhinestone and gold plating designs.  This one is simple, perfectly round, and has a  mother-of-pearl design on the front.  After an entertaining conversation with the vendor, who knew instantly we spoke English and teased us by saying “We only speak French here”, only to later comment me on my ability to carry on the necessary conversation in French (score!), I had a wonderful new compact mirror, all for only 8€.  Kind of a silly purchase, but I really have been looking for one forever.

After looking through all the tables, I found a lot of neat things I would love to go back for if I had the money.  For instance, designer silk scarfs (only 80€), really awesome old festival and event posters from around France (anywhere from 200-400€), large sets of real silver table settings (of which I didn’t bother to consult the price), and whole bunch of old keys (only 1,50 €!).  It took up a good portion of our afternoon, and we saw some really cool things, so I’d say afternoon well spent.

Given that we still hadn’t had anything tasty to satisfy our taste buds, we got some sorbet from a place we hadn’t tried before, and decided to walk up to Chateau de Nice (the wonderful park with the great panorama views I’ve mentioned before).  Sorbet proved to be a wonderful idea.  Jon got apricot and I got pear.  Mine was incredible.  It seriously tasted like I was biting right into a really juicy pear.  Jon kept stealing bites and said with sarcastic frustration  “Damnit! Now we have to come here every single day to get some of this” all while making his oh-my-gosh-this-is-the-most-delicious-thing-I’ve-ever-eaten face.  After the long, dreadfully steep walk up the hill, Jon enjoyed playing on the rope play thing while it was kid-free.

We took a few detours going back down to sea level so we would know where all the paths were, and proceeded to go home.  But not without stopping at Zara to get Jon some new jeans.  Two pair, to be exact, since he’s managed to wear holes in one of the pairs he brought.  All and all, a very wonderful afternoon.  I hope the sun sticks around for a little bit longer, and that the tickle that popped up in the back of my throat isn’t the sign of a cold to come.  Especially since we hope to go to Torino this weekend.  And yes, for all my motherly readers, I’ve eating and drinking all the Vitamin C I can manage.  :)

Bonne journée!

J’ai dansé toute la nuit à Monaco

So yesterday was absolutely incredible, start to finish.  It was the first sunny Saturday that was warm enough to go to the beach, so after we got up and showered, we headed toward the beach, and stopped at the grocery store for something to eat for lunch while we were there.  We picked up our old fall-back: salami, cheese, a baguette, and something to drink.  This time we learned that we’re not huge fans of Camembert cheese.

The air was a little chilly, especially with the sea breeze, but it felt so got to lay out on the beach and soak up some rays.  Only I didn’t actually soak any up.  I laid out there for probably close to 2 hours, without sunscreen (a time frame that would leave me lobster-like in Florida right now), and didn’t get so much as a single new freckle.  I was a little bummed, but I can’t even try to say it ruined my afternoon, because I loved every bit of it.  I brought my Kindle with me to do some reading, but didn’t get a chance to because Jon was reading Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential to me.  I guess that’s just like reading it myself, only his voice sounds nicer than my head voice.  That being said though, any time I read something by Anthony Bourdain, I hear his voice in my head.  Either way, the afternoon was wonderful.  My only wish is that the grey clouds from the north waited another hour or so before descending upon Nice.  We had to leave when they covered the sun because it instantly got way too cold, even when I put my clothes back on.

On our way home we stopped at the store again to get a wine-sized bottle of beer for Jon, and a bottle of wine for me to enjoy at Fabby & Niko’s.  We also brought the rest of the brandy from when we made sangria, and bought Fabby a bottle of Limoncello for her birthday, since its her favorite.  We spent a few hours slowly getting ready, and at 8PM we were buzzing their apartment, dreading the four-story climb to dinner.  I was introduced to brandy a coke, easily a new favorite, and a mint liquor called Get 27 that smells and kind of tastes like mouthwash.  It’s a good thing to either start or end a night with, but I can’t exactly see myself drinking it all night.  Two more friends of Fabby and Niko’s showed up, and we enjoyed a birthday dessert that resembled a brownie, covered in Nutella.  That automatically means it was awesome.  After a few more drinks, we were ready to head to Monaco.

Of course, as soon as we get into the car, its starts to rain, but that didn’t dampen our spirits.  About half an hour later, we arrived in beautiful Monaco and ran to the doors of Zest, a club in the port.  I had to pay 2€ to check my coat, which was mildly irritating and welcomed all at the same time.  No one likes having a heavy wool coat to worry about while dancing.  We already had a table and a bunch of their friends were already there.  Now, this club, and probably most clubs in Monaco, was pretty expensive, and the only way you can really get and keep a table is if you buy bottles of liquor for the table.  They bought a few, but Jon and I opted out of partaking, mainly because it was 20-30€ a person for vodka, which we don’t care too much for.  We bought our own drinks, but not many, because they were expensive and small.  For instance, I ordered a 12€ margarita, and got one in a glass usually used for martinis.  Margarita are supposed to be huge, right?  All that aside, I had an absolute blast.  Some of their friends are a lot of fun, and after feeling like the awkward turtle for about 10 minutes, we found something to break the ice and spent the rest of the night talking, dancing (on the dance floor and the furniture) and singing the night away.  Jon and I repeatedly told each other “Hey, we’re clubbing in Monaco… IN MONACO!”  Probably an experience we’ll never be able to afford to do again, but it was unbelievable.  And yes, for my readers who know Jon, he danced.  And I mean it when I say “the night away.”  Last call, like we’re familiar with in the states, doesn’t really exist here.  Some clubs don’t even open until past midnight.  So at 2AM, when we would normally be forced to go home, the party was just hitting its peak, and continued on until well past 3AM when we decided to it was time to go home.

That being said, there’s nothing left but the pictures.  Obviously not the best of quality, given our physical state most of the evening, but alas, totally necessary.

Bonne Fête de St. Patrick!

Sorry for my absence, yet again.  I promise you its only because the nights have been nice enough to go out and enjoy with our friends.  So the recap:

Wednesday, Jon and I went out shopping with Fabiola and Ilona, and I actually had some luck.  I finally found a pair of boots, which unfortunately already have two mystery stains that I thought were water but they haven’t disappeared like the other water spots did.  Guess I get to buy shoe polish for the first time.  Also, found a new shirt and skirt from H&M, some tights to wear since its still a little nippy.  Ilona introduced us to a really neat and cheap jewelry shop close to Vieux Nice, and I got a charm bracelet that has an OWL ON IT!  I love owls, so I was happy.  After some shopping and some gelato (mango for me) we went to Khalid’s for dinner, and as always, had a wonderful time.

Yesterday was of course, St. Patrick’s Day.  Bummed that my first legal St. Patty’s would be in a country that won’t have a place to celebrate it, I was very excited to hear that there is an Irish pub in Vieux Nice that is a blast on March 17th.  So we went with Fabiola, Ilona, Niko and a few of their friends, got their just in time to snatch the last table, and got to relax and have a little bit of fun.  Not being a beer fan, I thought I would just be watching Jon enjoy his all night, but I was mistaken.  They had a full liquor bar and I was happy.  Until I realized that I had been drinking just as many drinks as Jon and he was feeling it and I could hardly keep a buzz.  I know, its not that important to feel drunk, but if I had just as many drinks, all of which had tequila or whiskey in them, and I wasn’t feeling it at all, then they definitely water down their liquor.  I was bummed, but definitely still had a good time.  Also, the bartenders and waiters their spoke English.  It felt really good to relax and not have to concentrate on every little thing I say.

Today, Jon and I went a little farther past Vieux Nice to he could get a Laguiole pocket knife.  They’re particularly pretty, very handy, and made in France.  He’s been keeping his eyes open for one since we got here and finally found one he liked.  After that, we went to the beach.  I wore my swimsuit hoping it would be warm enough to try and bronze a little, but it wasn’t.  I didn’t mind though, I still got to lay on the beach and catch up with Julia Child.  Jon enjoyed skipping rocks, as always.  A skill I have yet to master.  I’m hoping the sun will be out tomorrow.  We’re planning on going for a run tomorrow, then laying on the beach a good portion of the afternoon.  Tomorrow evening we’re going out with Fabiola and Niko to some clubs in Monaco.  I’m excited, I knew I brought my party dress for a reason!

Bonne week-end! (Yes, that is French! Haha)

Mettre un puzzle avec un enfant est ennuyeux

Please excuse the lack of posting, but the past couple days have been very laid back.  We’re back to having poor weather, which limits what you can do.  Other than a few museums that doesn’t interest me in the slightest, we’ve done all there really is to see in Nice.  So on a rainy day, there isn’t much to do, since walking around the city and sitting on the beach isn’t exactly an option like it is when the sun it out.

Laid back days aren’t exactly bad things though.  Jon had a lot of design work to do for a client back in the states, and I took advantage of the time by working 3 weeks ahead in one of my classes.  I’d prefer to work ahead in large chunks than have to constantly concern myself with it during the week.

Tomorrow we’re having another classmate dinner, this time at Khalid’s.  Tonight Jon and I went over to show him how to make our tzatziki, which became quite popular after we hosted lunch.  Needless to say, I’m at least excited about eating that tomorrow.  He’s a great cook though, so I’m always excited about dinner there.

Other than that, all I can say is that if I decide to have a child one day (which after spending 3 months here is highly unlikely) he will be properly socialized.  No “Only Child Syndrome” for me, my child will know how to share.  I have a growing list of things my hypothetical child will and won’t do, which includes but isn’t limited to: eating more than just bread, knowing how to use an inside voice, not watching television all day, everyday, etc.  This probably only made it on this post because I sat down to do a puzzle on the coffee table in the living room while Nicolas was doing something else, and he dropped what ever he was doing to show me how to properly put the puzzle together.  In other words, he completely took over and wouldn’t let me put it together myself.  Classic only child.  So irritating.  I enjoy jigsaw puzzles, and I haven’t done them in a while, so I was kind of excited, despite its mere 64 pieces.  I feel the need to by a 5000 piece mystery puzzle when I return to the states now.  Maybe I will.

C’est la vie.

Le vent soufflait fort à Èze

Jon and I, despite the grey skies, were determined to get out of the house and out of Nice today.  We decided to visit the little village of  Èze, which is a great place to go if you’re looking for a customized perfume fragrance, or any fragrance,  because that’s what they’re known for.  More importantly, they have an exotic garden at the top of Chateau d’Èze that promised beautiful views of the Mediterranean and the mountains around it.

Had it been up to me though, we definitely wouldn’t have made it.  It wasn’t exactly easy getting to Èze.  Jon looked up the bus routes and schedules, and made an itinerary of where we needed to catch the bus, what bus to catch, where to get off, and what to do while we’re there.  Equipped with all the information we needed, we were feeling pretty excited.  We met Khalid at the bus station and waited for the bus… until we realized that none of the stops had the bus number we needed listed on them.  So much for trusting Nice bus websites.  So we consulted the map and found a bus station that bus 112 did pass, and we took the tram to it.  But once we got there, we realized that the next bus wouldn’t be there until 2, and we got there a little before 1.  The wind was strong, the air was on the frigid side of cold, and Khalid had to be home earlier than we did anyway because he was expecting guests this evening, so he said it wasn’t worth it and left.  I desperately wanted to leave too.  When I stuck my head out the window of our bedroom this morning, the air felt nice, the wind wasn’t strong, so I decided I just needed my grey coat and a scarf on top of my t-shirt.  I was definitely wrong, and could have used some extra layers on my arms.  The wind was so strong that my ears hurt like crazy, which gave me a killer headache.  But Jon insisted that we go.

Since our wait was over an hour, we walked around until we found a place to grab something to eat for lunch.  I had a nice little salad, though I’m learning with every time I eat chicken that the French definitely prefer the dark meat.  I prefer white meat, but alas, it was still pretty good.

Once on the bus to Èze I started to feel a little better, mainly because I was out of the cold.  Once we got to Èze though, we were significantly higher, so the wind was considerably stronger.  I don’t think I made it two steps before telling Jon that I was definitely not happy with him.  But its Jon, that didn’t phase him in the slightest, and we were walking up hill towards Chateau d’Èze and its exotic garden.

I will say, I have to visit it again.  There were tons of perfume shops, and I feel like I can’t go to Èze without at least coming back with some sort of fragrance, be it in perfume form or soap.  On top of that, the place was just really neat.  It’s a medieval village similar to Saint Paul de Vence, but just a little different.  It was beautiful, even with grey skies.  The garden was neat, but it was mostly a cactus garden, and since the weather has been so cold a lot of them were blanketed to protect them.  I guess it’s a good thing we only went to see the view.  Though I wasn’t exactly happy with Jon for hauling me all the way up there with the wind blowing as relentlessly as it was, the view made up for it.

We had to catch the 5:20 bus home, but since there wasn’t much else to do there other than bug all the little shop owners only to leave without purchasing anything, we opted to find a little restaurant (called Le Pinocchio) where we could split a pizza and get something hot to drink.  And boy did we find something hot to drink.  Vin chaud.  Yes, ladies and gentleman, that means hot wine.  It was a red wine that they put spices (like cloves and cinnamon) in along with a slice of orange.  It was spicy, warm and delicious.  Our pizza was also delicious, but once the bill came we learned that they charged us €4 to cut the pizza in half.  I thought I heard him say something about €4 when we ordered, but Jon insisted he said something else.  I found it to be a little ridiculous, but whatever.  Its France.

Before heading to the bus stop we went into another little fragrance shop that had a little museumish type thing to walk through.  They also had a room with all the different scents you could combine to make your own unique fragrance.  It was interesting, but more importantly it was warm.  While waiting at the bus stop, a group of students from London on their spring break (from all around: Maryland, California, Canada and Australia) were catching the same bus and we got to do a little bit of talking.  We heard them while at Le Pinocchio, and Jon said at least one of them was from California from across the restaurant.  I had to stifle a giggle when we found out he was right.  It was a little refreshing to speak to people in English without worrying about whether they knew what we were talking about.

We took the bus back, took the tram to the grocery store to buy some shampoo and conditioner, and now we’re home, still freezing, but at least there’s no wind in our room.  All and all, I’d say I was pretty miserable all day, but still had a good time.  Not sure how that works, but it definitely felt good to get out of the house today.  Especially since they’re promising rain tomorrow.

Here are some pictures!

View from Èze

Us :) Covering my head definitely helped

More view from Èze

Èze

Just above the church

This is someone’s house. Could you imagine?

To quote Jon: “I would tear that road up!”

I thought it looked cool

GIANT CHESS BOARD! We think this was part of a hotel.

Pizza, water and hot wine. Yum.

Mon cœur est au Japon

Though it’s not exactly related to my travels in the slightest, I’d like to talk a little about todays events.

When I got home from class today, the first thing Jon and I noticed on Facebook was something about an earthquake in Japan, accompanied by a towering 27-foot tsunami.  My heart immediately sank.

I lived in Japan for just short of five years, and know all to well the horrors of an earthquake.  Though I recall feeling small tremors almost daily, I do recall the Kobe Earthquake of 1995 and its aftershocks.  Now, I lived at Misawa Air Force Base, over 700 miles from Kobe, and was scared out of my mind about what was going to happen mid-quake, and that was only a 6.8 on the Moment Magnitude Scale.  I can’t even imagine was an 8.9 would feel like, or the damage that would ensue, or the number of deaths we should expect to see during its aftermath.  I can’t even fathom was a tsunami is like, and consider myself lucky that during my five years there I never experienced one.  Another sobering though, as awful as this may sound, I am beyond relieved that Jon and I opted to come to France, rather than go to Japan.

I have faith in Japan, and its ability to pull through this.  The Japanese are strong- hardened by their experiences, and armed with the best earthquake science to date.  They will rebuild, better than before.  They will prevail, they always do.

I did do a little bit of searching and found that all US Military bases in Japan (including Misawa AB near Misawa City, Yokota AB just outside of Tokyo, and Kadena AB of Okinawa) are okay, and are on stand-by, ready to provide relief to the Japanese government, Hawaii and the Pacific coastal areas of the US, as well as our Pacific territories.

If you would like to donate to the relief efforts in Japan, I found this list of ways you can help.

 

On a lighter note, here in France things have been fairly laid back.  The closing ceremony for Carnival proved to be a royal waste of our time, and caused us to miss out on a good view of the burning of the King.  Had I known the ceremony wasn’t anything entertaining, we would have just camped out by the beach for a few hours so we can see it.  Jon was bummed, he really wanted pictures.  We saw the top of the flames from several yards away, and with in two minutes the fire was out.  They did make up for their lame ceremony with a wonderful fireworks show, complete with music and all.  It was really very nice.  My camera died again, but that proved to be okay after looking at my pictures, because not a single one of them were even close to salvageable.  Oh well.

Today we finally went shopping.  I went out searching for a new pair of shoes, a scarf and mascara, and came home with a scarf, mascara and lip gloss.  I consider it a semi-successful day.  Plus that means I just get to go shopping for shoes again!

Until next time, bonne nuit!

J’adore sangria

Sorry for my absence, but its been a rather dull few days.  That is, with the exception of last night.

We had another one of our classmate dinners!  This time, it was hosted by Fabiola, so naturally, it featured a few of her Mexican favorites!  Mexican rice, salsa, guacamole (which Jon normally hates, but he actually liked hers!), quesadillas, and picadillo!  Everything was delicious, and since Jon, Fabiola and I had been missing our favorite wine beverage, sangria, the day before the dinner I got everything together for my mom’s recipe and made some, so it would be perfect for last night.  And boy it was.  I had to buy a little pitcher thing to make it in, and it was only big enough to put the wine, brandy, simple syrup and fruit, but that didn’t stop us.  Instead of putting the bottle of lemon soda in the pitcher of wine and fruit, we fill up each glass half way with the wine and fruit mixture, and then topped it off with the soda.  Super easy.  We also learned one of the benefits of sangria: when you run out of wine in the fruit, just add another bottle of wine.  We didn’t have the brandy there with us, so we didn’t add any more, but you could add some back into the mixture if you wanted.  And naturally, the fruit was delicious.

Fabiola’s tiny apartment was quite alive last night, and like always, we enjoyed nice conversation.  This time, Lloica (I’m sure I spelled her name wrong, but you pronounce it “Joy-Kuh”), Hameeda, Doha, Kahlid, joined us, and eventually Niko joined us after work.  What a wonderful evening.

Today has proven to be a little frustrating.  Despite the fact that I wasn’t up that late last night, Jon and I were exhausted, and our brains just weren’t functioning in class today.  At one point, towards the end, Martine said something to us so quickly that when I turned to Jon and asked “did you get all that?” he just replied with “do you know any French?”  Probably a bad move on his part, since I proceeded to burst into tears (quiet ones, but still) out of fear that I’m just drowning in the language and wasting all my time and money here.  Of course, he had no idea that’s what it was about, and when Martine noticed, he replied with “Elle est trop fatiguée” (She is too tired) and she completely understood.  Thank goodness, I was too cold to step out into the hallway (where its at least 10 degrees colder) to get a hold of myself.

After class Jon and I had our favorite club poulet and even added a sablé (cookie) of our choice: confiture for Jon, and figue for me.  Delish.  We were going to indulge in a little of what Nice does best- SHOPPING, but we opted for a nap instead so that we could enjoy the closing ceremony of Carnival tonight.  It was supposed to be on Tuesday, but the winds were too high.  Since they burn the float of the Carnival King, it was too big of a risk to proceed with the weather that day, and they postponed it.  That just means I get to go shopping tomorrow. :)

Bonne journée!