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.

Je ne comprends pas l’art abstrait.

First, let me say, still no sun.  I saw the sun for maybe an hour today, and it was while I was stuck in class.  On top of that, there has to be some sort of storm out in the Mediterranean, because there has been a really strong wind coming off the coast that I can only compare to the wind gusts I feel at home in Cocoa Beach before a storm.  Nevermind the fact that the air has a relentless bite to it that has left my cheeks and legs quite chapped.  I did come to Nice, right?

Okay, I feel awful for sending out so much text about the weather into cyber space- especially since I’m sure I only have a handful of readers, and I can imagine you’re tired of hearing about it.  But its all you have to post about when there’s nothing to do!  C’est la vie.

I will say though, that last night, Fabiola, her boyfriend Niko, Jon and I went and had a magnificent dinner at Khalid’s house.  Last night was also the first time we got to meet Niko, and we all got along quite nicely.  Khalid prepared a wonderful meal, as usual, and we sat for over four hours talking, eating, and sharing a few bottles of wine.  Well, Fabiola and I did most of the wine drinking- Jon prefers dessert wines, which we were saving for later in the evening, Khalid doesn’t drink, and Niko arrived an hour or so after we opened the first bottle, and then went out for a second.  All and all, four bottles of wine later, we were a little pink in the face, full of laughter, and not exactly looking forward to our early alarms this morning.

As for today, the cold, harsh, relentless wind made it the perfect day for a museum visit.  Fabiola met us at the Musée d’Art Moderne et d’Art Contemporian. Now, I love museums… of a certain type.  Particularly history museums, natural history museums, science and industry museums, even interactive children’s museums.  But the past several contemporary/modern art museums I’ve been to have proven to be… a little unimpressive.

I consider myself an art lover, but I find some things about abstract art to be a little… pretentious.  I also consider myself an artist of certain types, but I am no good with a paint brush or clay.  However, a lot of the things I saw today I could have easily done.  The only reason it makes it into a museum is because of who created it, probably because they’ve done something crazy, or they’re the daughter of someone famous.  One exhibit in particular just looked like someone didn’t clean up their garage work bench one day, thought it “looked cool” and expanded on it.  Sure, that probably took a lot of time, but since when does the amount of time put into its creation automatic grant it the title “art?”  What happened to the days when art was simply beautiful, and that was easily seen, before artists had to defend and argue why they believe its art, before television shows turned something that is supposed to come with time, patience, dedication, vision and hard work into something that can be forced through competition?   I guess, in a nutshell, you should say I just don’t get abstract art.  At least not in a sense that museum exhibits should devote their space too it.

However, despite my inability to “get it,” we still enjoyed ourselves, and the view of Nice from the roof of the museum (which is of course open to the public, we aren’t lawbreakers!) was worth the entire visit.  The museum itself seemed to be pretty close to the center of Nice, so the view was 360°.  Well, with the exception of the fact that the Theatre National de Nice was blocking what would have been a beautiful view of the Mediterranean.  But alas, it was still nice.

After the museum, we went for a stroll through Vieux Nice (Old Nice) where Jon indulged himself in some rather delicious cookies, and we had some socca from a corner shop that, according to Niko, has the best in Nice.  It was delicious, and super fresh.

I will leave you with this picture: wouldn’t this be a lovely terrace to have dinner on in the evening, or tan on?  That is, whenever the sun finally decides to show itself?

 

Until next time, bonne journée!

Où est le soleil?

Alright Nice, seriously.  I signed up for three months on the Mediterranean!  WHERE IS THIS SUN!?

Okay, had to vent just a little.  But in all honesty, I’m a little bummed that its been so gloomy here.  In Nice, there really isn’t much to do except eat and shop when its grey like this, and the ladder I should do without, because Nice does have wonderful shopping, and I have very little self control when it comes to shoes and handbags.  I mean, I’ve been giving boots like these the same amount of wishful glances as the tartes au citron in the bakery windows!  Needless to say, I should avoid mindlessly walking around the mall.

I will say though, we still haven’t visited any of the museums.  I suppose now would be the best time to do so.  They’re free, but they’re also small, so it would really only buy us another maybe, 3 or 4 afternoons of entertainment before we’re back to square one.

On a brighter note, Jon and I are in the process of planning a trip this weekend to Torino, Italy.  Its only about, 6 hours away by train, so we would get there around 7pm, stay up all night walking around and exploring, check into a hotel that morning so we can shower and take a nap, go out and enjoy Torino during the day and into the evening, and get some sleep in our hotel Saturday night so we don’t miss our early Sunday morning train.  Sounds like I should have a caffeine section in my budget for the weekend, thats for sure.  But we want to get the most out of Torino without paying for two nights in a hotel.  We’ll see how it goes as we get closer in our planning.

So, for those reading in other parts of the world, I hope you’re weather is beautiful.  All my Florida friends have been bragging about tanning at the pool or the beach; you bet the moment the sun comes back out I’m going straight to the beach after class, Kindle in hand, ready to soak up that beautiful sun.  Or at least try- those who know me know that I’m very fair skinned, burn easily, and freckle.  Which means I should probably figure out what sunscreen is in French.

Bonne journée!

Oh! Also, if you’ll notice, at the bottom of my posts I’ve added buttons so you can easily share them with your friends and family on whatever social networking sites you frequent!  So feel free to share!

Le Défilé des Lumières

Yesterday was another parade day for Carnival, and Jon and I had every intention of attending both the Bataille de Fleurs (Battle of the Flowers) and Le Défilé des Lumières (The Parade of Lights).  At €10 a piece, mind you.

However, we learned something critically important for our future parade plans:  tickets are on sale only two hours before the start of the event.  So when we arrived at the day parade location at 3:00 pm (30 minutes after it started) we were greeted by closed ticket booths.  Now, I’m already frustrated enough that we have to pay to see a parade.  In the US, the most you have to pay for are premium viewing seats, which for those willing to pay for them, more power to you!  But all of the Carnival parades are paid events with the exception of the opening ceremony, and Mardi Gras.  But to show up and find out that we couldn’t even pay to see it because the ticket booths were closed was frustrating enough to make me want to boycott the whole thing.  Okay, not really.  My mood was helped significantly after finding a gummy candy stand full of my childhood favorites, and a stand selling Venetian style masks.  Jon suggested we buy ourselves one and dress up for the night parade.  This came as a bit of a surprise to me, I can’t even get him to partake in Halloween parties, but you don’t have to ask me twice to dress up.  Jon also enjoyed a beignet filled with warm apple sauce that was simply amazing.

After walking around a few more carnival stands, we headed home, mouths watering, and exciting plans for the night to come.  After a good two hour nap, and thirty minutes of primping and layering as much as possible while wearing tights and a dress (and of course, a coat) we were off.  We got a lot of looks walking down the street, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were good.  But when we got to the parade location, I totally didn’t feel silly anymore.  We got there pretty early, to ensure we’d be able to get tickets, and enjoyed a good hour or so of people watching before the parade actually began.  I saw a lot of glittery wigs and funny hats and face paint.

Once the parade began, it was just like the first night.  Silly string and confetti everywhere.  Jon and I were pretty fortunate not to get plastered with silly string, and I welcomed the confetti.  I thought it was fun.  The parade itself was incredible, and incredibly long.  But not the long you feel when you’re performing in a dreadfully long and boring  parade.  This was the sort of long that, once you finally feel your toes start to become numb with cold, you look at your watch and say “Oh my goodness, its already been over an hour!”  I think I had better luck taking pictures for this one, given that the Parade of Lights would probably be fairly well lit, however, my battery did die probably 3/4 of the way through the parade.  Which worked out to Jon’s benefit because he filled up his memory card, and had to use mine.

After the parade, I finally tried the churros I had been boycotting since we arrived.  I felt pretty strongly that €4 for a small thing of churros was pretty outrageous… until I got close enough to read the rest of the sign.  A small comes with ten churros!  I did skip the chocolate (even though it was temping, since they dip theirs in Nutella) and went with the classic churros, covered in sugar.  And, lucky me, they were fresh out of the fryer.  So. Delicious.

So, here are some of the pictures I managed to snap before my camera died.  Amusez-vous bien!

Nice commence à se sentir comme Londres

Today I learned an important traveling tip: When spending an extended amount of time in one place, its okay to have flexible plans.

Today, Jon and I were supposed to venture to the small medieval town of Saint Paul de Vence with one of our classmates, Fabiola, and her boyfriend Niko.  I saw some of her pictures on Facebook from the place, said it looked gorgeous, and she insisted she take us there to see it.  Sounds great?

Well its cold and rainy.  We had two days full of beautiful sunshine after nearly a week of rain, and today it came back again.  I’m starting to feel more like I’m in London rather than on the Mediterranean.

Had this been a week long trip, and we saved Saint Paul de Vence for our last day, sure, we would have probably still bundled up and gone to see the town, umbrellas in tow.  Our memories would probably be the only pictures we’d have, and nothing would appear as beautifully vibrant as expected.  But we’re staying for 3 months, there is always next weekend.

This week ahead does look promising though, even if it rains.  Our host family is leaving town, so Jon and I will have the apartment to ourselves.  Our family has been wonderful, but sleeping in on the weekend is a little difficult with a three year old outside our bedroom.  Also, this past Friday, one of our classmates, Khalid, had Jon, Fabiola and I over for lunch, and we had such a great time that we decided we should each host at least once.  It would be very difficult to do this with our family here, so this week is our week!  We just have to figure out what to make.  Fabiola also informed us that the museums are free, and we plan on visiting them together this week!  So even if it does rain, so long as I don’t get sick [*knock on wood*] it will be a great week.

J’ai peut-être allergique aux crevettes

So, I’m sorry for my lack of posting the past couple days.  Its still raining and miserably cold, so Jon and I really haven’t been doing much of anything other than catching up on various homework tasks and rest.  Which is good since I feel the tickle of another cold in my nose, which is frustrating.

Actually, the majority of this week has been rather frustrating.  Earlier this week, I finally had to tell my “host mom” that I didn’t like something that she made.  I was totally bummed, because I was hoping to avoid the conversation all together.  I’ve been able to stomach through eating my carrots, but we weren’t having carrots that night, we were having sausage and beans.  Beans are probably one of my least favorite side dishes under the sun.  And sausage, every kind is different for me.  So after she rushes back into the kitchen to whip me up some mashed potatoes (with my apologizing like, every 5 seconds as usual), Jon and I sat down and made a “Je n’aime pas” (I don’t like) and a “J’aime” (I like) list.  The I like list was just very generalized, since Jon and I like a lot more than we don’t like, but the don’t like list was rather short and specific.  For me: ham, beans, peas, bell peppers, mayonnaise, sausage, bleu cheese.  For Jon: olives, pickles, bleu cheese and ham.  Shrimp, and all other crustaceans of the sort should have been on our don’t like list, but alas, its hard to remember all the food you don’t like.

So that brings us to last night.  Shrimp alfredo.  Now, when I say I don’t like shrimp, its mostly a texture thing, but I don’t care for the flavor or the smell your house gets when you cook them.  But since it wasn’t on our don’t like list, I decided to be polite and eat them anyway.  Four hours later I realized that was an awful idea.  I woke up a little before midnight feeling really nauseous, and voila.  I got to praise the Porcelain God until 1:something in the morning.  Fun.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.  Most shrimp, or shellfish, allergies usually result in the sort of symptoms that fall under anaphylactic shock; rash, hives, fever, dizziness, trouble swallowing or breathing, you know, those sorts of things.  But alas, my wonderful boyfriend did some online research and found out the GI responses are possible, just not as common.  The reason I decided it must be an intolerance of some sort was because I was the only one sick.  If the food was contaminated, or the shrimp were bad, all four of us would have been fighting over visitation rights to the Lord of the WC, but that wasn’t the case.  I ate the least amount of shrimp, and I was the only one sick.  Not to mention I felt pretty much 100% all day except for some mild sniffles, and it couldn’t have been something else I ate that day because I didn’t eat anything new, and everything I ate, Jon also ate.  So readers, do you think I’m too far off thinking this might be an allergic or intolerant response of some sort?  Either way, I guess I’ll finally get that scratch test I’ve been putting off forever; I have a few other possible allergies I’d like to confirm.

So there you have it.  A picture-less, rather miserable and frustrating recap of my week.  Good thing everything happened when the weather was miserable and best suited for curling up with a good book before drifting into an afternoon nap.  I’d feel bad if I kept Jon in with me while the sun was out.  Which it should come back tomorrow, thank goodness. :)

Je déteste le jet lag.

I’m not exactly sure where to start, so we’ll start with Gasparilla, in Tampa.

Gasparilla is a HUGE pirate invasion celebration that takes place every year in January.  I’m not exactly sure how I feel about the town I live in celebrating piracy, but alas, nothing else of great interest has happened in Tampa worth celebrating.  I decided that, it being my first year in Tampa, that despite the fact that I had all my packing and last minute errands before the trip to run, I would go and partake in the event with my lovely former-roommate Cristina, and her friend Claire.  Needless to say, I understand why Jon refused to go, he hates crowds like that, but quite honestly, I had a great time…

That is until Jon called me to inform me that we couldn’t check into out flights because we didn’t have return tickets.  Uh oh, could they have waited until the very last minute to tell us this?  Needless to say, it was a long, agonizingly stressful process.  But, after a long evening of packing, a morning of running around like a chicken with its head cut off, and not eating a suitable breakfast, 12:00 PM Sunday finally rolls around, and we head to the airport.  Jon has a brownie in his hand, and I actually turned it down.  A BROWNIE!  Butterflies were the least of my concerns; I had dinosaurs in my stomach- big mean T-Rex dinosaurs.  Last minute goodbyes, a few unexpected tears, calls home to mom, and a Facebook status that only read “AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!” we were on our flight to Dulles International in DC, conveniently seated in Economy Plus- free of extra fees.  That leg room was quite the teaser.

In flight, I worked on some questions for a quiz I planned on taking as soon as we got to our gate in Dulles.  I finished everything, was feeling great, until we got there and tried to connect to the WI-FI… I will never take free WI-FI for granted again.  Yes kids, Dulles International Airport charges their commuters for WI-FI.  So I had to call my mom and walk her through taking the quiz for me, which was quite the experience in itself.  As if being stressed about an 8 hour flight to Munich wasn’t enough.  9 out of 10 questions (apparently you can’t keep two disagreeing thoughts in your head at the same time, maybe I’m super woman…) and a final goodbye, and we were off to Munich…

Let us go back to the Economy Plus seats we had on our first flight.  We didn’t realize these were special seats until we saw our seats for our Munich flight.  Needless to say, the last time I flew for longer than 3 hours was well over 10 years ago.  I was significantly shorter, had a lot less to carry, and could entertain myself endlessly.  Our seats had so little leg room my knees were touching the seat in front of me… for those of you who know Jon, can you imagine how he felt?  To top it off, we had snotty nosed little Chinese kids in front of us who for the first 20 minutes insisted on bouncing back on their seats.  That is until Jon politely punched the back to the seat so hard his mother finally got the picture.  I need not go into the level of discomfort I felt on this plane.  I just kept thinking “I’m going to France… I’m going to France… This will not defeat me!”

8 hours later we landed in a cold and dreary Munich.  The first thing I noticed was that thankfully, every sign had instructions in English.  Second thing, the airport is so stereotypically German- I love it.  Clean, utilitarian, sterile in color and design, it’s wonderful.  Let me also note that their restrooms are incredible, and their women’s sign is sort of adorable.  Third thing, the police carry MP5s.  I haven’t seen something larger than a hand gun carried by police (other than on a military base) since I lived in Spain.  It sort of gave me the creeps.  I felt like thats what Nazi Germany must have felt like or something.  Guns of that power is something I would expect to see in Dubai, not Munich.  Goodness.  Fourth observation: Free coffee/tea/hot chocolate.  A welcomed dose of caffeine and sugar, I might say.  Though I think you work off all that extra energy walking back to get more, since you only get 6 oz at a time.  Oh, and another downside: yet another airport without free WI-FI.

After a three hour layover, we were ready to board our final flight to Nice.  Only we were unaware that we would have to bus across the the tarmac to get to our plane and politely wait outside as we climb the roll-a-stairs to our seats.  Mind you, this is the end of January in Munich… which means it was a bone-chilling 23 degrees Fahrenheit.  Cold enough that not only the breath from your mouth was visible, but from your nose, and if I’d paid close enough attention, probably our ears too.  Not the pleasant 74 we left in Tampa, that I was dressed for.  We had a tiny plane, with significantly more legroom than the previous, and finally a window seat.  Which was perfect because this was the first flight with a real view- The Alps. Less than 2 hours later, we landed in Nice, though given that its surrounded on one side by water, I was certain that we were about to plumet right in to the Mediterranean Sea (or The Med, as I heard an Englishman call it).

We are now settled into our room with our host family, awaiting our first dinner, while watching their son Nicolas play with ping pong balls and this neat cube thing.  He’s kind of adorable.