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!

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!

Un récapitulatif fin d’un déjeuner mal documentées

So I learned something very important the night before our big Greek lunch: its very easy to forget that you promised to take pictures when you’re wrapped up in converting your cups of yogurt to grams.  So, unfortunately, the only picture I managed to remember was a picture of the table full of food before everyone dug in.

The Spread

Looks pretty delicious, right?  From the bottom to the top we have: Macedonian salad, lemon and dill chicken and rice (Jon and I pretty much made that one up, and it turned out great!), our beautiful tzatziki sauce which is next to Neelima’s dish, a traditional Indian chickpea dish, and finally, enough bread and pita to feed an arm.  I unfortunately failed to remember to put our dessert in this picture, but we had a fruit and nut tart of some sort that was delicious, and a chocolate hazelnut tart of some sort that was simply divine.

Well, thankfully, everyone loved it.  The lunch went off without a hitch.  Everyone had a great time, and even stuck around for nearly four hours just talking about all sorts of stuff.  When your table has two people from the United States, two people from Saudi Arabia, one person from Mexico, one person from India, and one person from Russia, the subjects vary greatly from alcohol, politics, movies, and food.  When everyone parted, Jon and I took a very well deserved nap, and the remainder of the evening consisted of taxes (I’m getting nine whole dollars back!) and filling out my FAFSA, which went off a lot better this year than last.  Thank goodness.

Today after class, since the weather was beautiful, Jon and I walked back down to the marina so he could jump around on all the rocks and the break water.  Needless to say, he had way to much fun reliving a little bit of his childhood.  It was fun and scary to watch him.  I guess I’m just not the dare devil I used to be.  So here are some pictures from that.

Jon and I before he started jumping around

Climbing

And jumping

And giving me funny looks

And resting

And strechting-ish.

As for the evening, it was fairly relaxed, considering we spent about 5 hours of our afternoon just walking around.  Tomorrow I’m hoping to brave the slight chill in the air for some tanning time on the beach.  I’m in desperate need of some color.  Carnival parades continue tomorrow as well, so hopefully the weather holds up for us to finally go see one.

Until next time, bonne nuit!

J’adore quand une longue montée à pied est payante

Somehow I don’t think that translates very well, but if my subjects were in English: I love it when a long, uphill walk pays off.

Jon insisted we go back to the harbour and climb up the hill/cliff sort of thing that was above the war monument we saw during our last visit.  I kept telling him, as soon as its easy to breath, we’ll go.  Well I guess I haven’t coughed much today, because we went.  Uphill doesn’t bug me so much usually, but after coughing for weeks, and super cold air, it was a little uncomfortable.  But alas, it paid off.

First of all, we found a neat little area at the base of the hill that we probably wouldn’t have found otherwise.  Jon thinks its a little touristy, perhaps, but it seemed pretty authentic at the same time.  Either way, there was a little stand with crêpes and gelato that we couldn’t resist.  I got pistachio gelato, and Jon got a crêpe sucre et limon.  Lemon and sugar indeed, delish!

Then, almost to the top of the hill, we came across a cimetière (cemetery) and decided to take a look.  Its unfortunate they didn’t permit photography, because it was really very neat in there.  It was the type that had massive family headstone sort of things, for very wealthy families we decided.  Jon enjoyed contemplating how exactly they got these monstrous pieces of granite and marble up the hill and into place.  I couldn’t exactly figure it out either though.

Finally, we made it up to the park.  And boy was it a park.  It had all sorts of stuff, and had tons of people and kids running around, and yet didn’t feel crowded.  And the view… my goodness.  Well, I’ll let the pictures do the talking.  We stayed until sunset because Jon really wanted some sunset pictures from up there.  I think it would have been better on another day, seeing as it was rather hazy today, but alas.  It was still beautiful.  Unfortunately, my camera battery died before the sunset was over, but I still got one in.

Streets at the base of the hill

Another shot of the streets

This is the lighthouse we visited the other day.

The harbour.

More of the harbour.

The $100 million yacht I mentioned…

Cactus… in France?

View of Nice and The Med from the hill.

<3

Sunset.