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Published: December 6th 2006
My Goodness My Guinness
There's tons of better photos of our time in Dublin, but they sorta might be on Melissa Gorecki's camera.Hey everyone, I’m alive!!!
Yes, yes, I know, it’s been quite some time, um, perhaps more than a month, since I’ve written. Settle in for a long read. As with my own personal journal (which I must say I’m just as bad as far as keeping up goes), I’ve found that it’s faster to start with the fresh stuff. Dunno why, but it makes it easier to write.
So, today. Okay, I won’t bore you with the details on my paper on the usage of mirrors and reflections in the paintings of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, but I will tell you that I’m going to Sweden! I’m so excited for this; it was the only thing I really wanted to do over here (besides become more proficient in French, of course), and for a few weeks, I was almost ready to give up on that dream. But hats off to Expedia, they’ve really got those last-minute rates. I’ll be there the second weekend of December; it’ll be my last weekend of travelling before I have to settle down to cram for finals and pack in all that I haven’t done in Nantes. As for this weekend, it’s off
Dinner
I'm not even going to post the pumpkin pie. to Brussels, Belgium, and hopefully a few hours in Bruges, quite the picturesque Belgian town, as I hear it. (*Belgium has already passed, but that update will come later, you guys have enough to chew on for awhile)
Alright, topics in this entry : Ireland / Thanksgiving / Paris / Nice+Monaco / Rome
Ireland
This past weekend was spent in Dublin with none-other than my favorite fellow-abroad-Loyolans, Melissa and Andrea, as well as Hieu and Jack (their respective boyfriends) and Stacy (friend to both). I can honestly say that Dublin was not what I expected. I’ve got to get out of the mindset that each town I visit will look like what I’ve pictured it as (the exception being Nice, but more on that later . . .). It’s not that Dublin’s hideous, but it is industrial, and it’s definitely a bit aways away from the rolling green hills and heavy fogs that I see as Eire. Main things to do in Dublin- drink and shop. I got both of those in, as the Guinness Storehouse allows for the two. That place was pretty cool, I did learn a good deal more about than I ever thought
La Tour Eiffel
I get creative sometimes . . . possible, and the complimentary pint at the end of the tour was a nice touch. I especially loved the mini-museum devoted to the posters and advertisements of days past, I’m a sucker for those toucans (and all the other animals) who claim, My Goodness My Guinness! We also visited the famed Temple Bar, a little quarter that’s just chock full of bars and shops. It’s quite the tourist destination, and Dubliners avoid it like the plague.
Thanksgiving
IES tried, they really did, and we should all give them credit for that. Each year, IES plans a huge dinner for all the students, their families, and members of the France-United States relations group. This year, my host mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it, due to La Révolution Péruvienne, that is, when she transforms the first floor of the house into a store, open 10-8 for four days. It was . . . interesting. I wasn’t alone, as it seemed hardly any host families showed up this year (rumor has it they go every other year). Some students performed, singing, playing violins, pianos, and hand-accordians (Joe Brew is quite the talented young man). Okay, the food. It was
Catacombs
Imagine turning a corner and having a welcoming committee . . . definitely the first Thanksgiving that I did not stuff myself, not because I chose to demonstrate restraint, but because there was just not enough food on the plate for that. We dined on a handful of dark meat, garnished with roasted chestnuts, a teaspoon of mashed potatoes, and a sprinkling of lingdonberries. We had not one, but two desserts, most likely due to interesting concoction known here as pumpkin pie. But it’s the thought that counts. I just have to keep repeating that.
Paris
Again, with the Loyolans. I swear, we didn’t plan to do consectutive weekends . . . but what a weekend it was. Friday nights the Louvre is free to students under 26 (there’s always some kind of discount to be found for students, gotta love the government institutions), and Melissa, Andrea, and I took full advantage of that. Yes, we saw the Mona Lisa. Yes, it was smaller than everyone thinks. No, I didn’t think it was that small. No, I couldn’t take any pictures, that was guarded like no other (the Sistine Chapel is another story, you have to keep reading for that). I was blown away by the sheer size, and I really,
really appreciate this l’Histoire de l’art course; it was so cool to see the real, full-size versions that we’ve discussed in class and actually KNOW what’s going on. After the Louvre, we stopped at a café for crêpes, and, Paris has got NOTHING on Bretagne. The next day was Versailles, yes M. Lewis, it still stinks in there and no one believed me when I told them why. There’s too much to say about Versailles, I wouldn’t know where to begin. Unfortunately, most of the gardens weren’t much to look at, on account of the statues being wrapped up for winter. After Versailles, we found a restaurant claiming to serve the dishes of Bretagne, and since Melissa and Andrea couldn’t see where I study/live/eat, decided to give it a shot. I think Melissa and Andrea did their best to enjoy it, because, yes, we use a lot of salt over here. Thus, in my opinion, this restaurant did a spectacular job. The crêpe du caramel salé du sel de guerande was perfect. Once back in Paris, we strolled down the Champs d’Elysées (more like tried to avoid the mobs), saw the biggest Sephora ever, failed at finding the H&M, and
climbed the Eiffel Tower. Yes, it was amazing. Yes, we went all the way to the top. I’m really glad we went at night, the city was so beautiful lit up . . . and it was a lot easier to find certain buildings, monuments, whatnot.
Sunday morning was a bit miserable (read: wet, frigid), but we had a lot to pack in on our last day. First off was Mass at Notre Dame, with this being my second time, the first being the Sunday in Paris after Rome (keep reading, keep reading). Afterwards, we hiked up however many million stairs to bell tower of Notre Dame and chilled with some gargoyles. On the way back down, the day got just a little nicer, but we immediately went underground to see the catacombs! Ooh, that was, shall we say, interesting. Maybe because it’s a self-guided tour, one is a lot more aware of long, long, narrow empty corridors underground where countless souls may or may not roam. Alright, it gave me the slightest bit of heebie-jeebies. But that’s cuz I was last of the three. And then, BOOM, it was a whole lotta skulls. And bones. Everywhere. For a
hour. Seriously, the stacks just kept going and going. Yes, I touched a leg. No, I wasn’t supposed to.
After that delightful tour of the dead, we headed over to Sacre Coeur, took the funicular (funky elevator) cuz we were 1) too lazy to climb any more stairs and 2) it only cost a Metro ticket. Sacre Coeur was beautiful, blindingly white, and a whole lot bigger than Notre Dame. Well, it seemed like it. We strolled on over to Moulin Rouge, finding Le Chat Noir and enormous cotton candy along the way. Based off Andrew’s pictures from a few weekends ago, I think I would have preferred to see Moulin Rouge and Pigalle in the daylight, it was just too much neon to get a good sense of what it was like. And that was Paris.
Nice / Monaco
So as of yet, Nice is the only place that has been exactly what I thought it would be like. As in, in studying in a small(er) town in France, I thought there’d be farms within a half-hour walk, in Rome, I expected to see old Italian women stomping on grapes while their beloved Giuseppes sped around on
Aaaah!
So there's this little rule about not taking photos in the Sistine Chapel . . . sixties-throwback Vespas (Melissa Gorecki told me I should have gone to Trastavere to get that image). But, wow. Just oh, wow. Those were the only words out of Katie’s and my mouths the entire trip. And gorgeous. And ooooh. There’s not a whole lot to do in Nice but just take in the view. And whatta view. Oh, there’s always the Flower Market, which had to be one of the best, brightest, cacaphonious, and inviting markets I’ve ever seen. After strolling through town, we decided to hop on a bus destined for Monaco. That little ride cost us a whopping 1,30 euro and took an entire thirty minutes. And whatta view of that coast. Once in Monaco, we saw the Prince Albert’s palace (Katie wasn’t too impressed when the Casino looked more ‘royal’ than the actual palace), took in the aquarium (but of course, it’s me, can’t keep me away from those fish), and ogled at the casino. And the Ferraris, Lambos, and Alfa Romeos parked out front.
Rome
Oh man, by now, there’s just too much. Somewhat ironic, since Rome was about a week long vacation, and all these others are roughly three days. So:
Halloween - Overnight
train to Rome with Alli & Andrew. Learned a new card game from an Italian guy, something along the lines of blackjack, called Mezzo Sette.
Wednesday - Colosseum, Arch of Constantine, and Vittorio Emmanuele II monument (this thing can be seen everywhere in Rome, and the Italians hate it- they call it the typerwriter or the wedding cake, because essentially, that’s the shape and that’s how gaudy the thing is.), St. Peter’s for All Saints’ Mass. Had pasta, gelato, and chianti. Trevi Fountain @ night.
Thursday - planned to get up early for the Vatican & St Peter’s, but instead found out that our hostel was being fumigated and we were being moved to another one. Katie & Melissa were due to arrive, but we had to intercept them from going to the old hostel. Saw : St. Peter’s in daylight(Vatican was closed by that time), Pantheon, catacombs of Capuchin monks, saw Alli & Andrew off (to Austria and Paris, respectively), met up with the Goreckis for a delicious dinner and a bit of Campo di Fiori.
Friday - Vatican, St. Peter’s again (this time inside, and also the tombs of the popes), nighttime brought the Colloseum, Trevi, and VE2.
Saturday - Colloseum again, Palatine Hill, stumbled upon a labor demonstration and hordes of gorgeous police in riot gear, had our final gelato with Melissa Gorecki.
Sunday - arrived in Paris just in time for Mass @ Notre Dame, were lucky enough to see Musée d’Orsay for free, found Starbucks for Katie and Melissa.
Two episodes really stand out in my mind of the ‘true’ Italian experience. One (delightful) moment was when Katie and I paused on the sidewalk, to do whatever, look at a map, tie a shoe, no idea, and then found ourselves in the plum in the middle of Italian businessmen dressed to the nines. Grazie, Roma. The other was of the metro (a must) at rushhour. Packed like sardines, it looked like there’d be no escape. It was my chance to shine like an Italian - permesso-scusi-scusi-grazie-permesso-grazie-scusi. Those words open doors, literally.
Notes - check the weather before you go. It was freezing. And in the hunt for gelato, check the banana flavor. If it’s bright yellow, it’s from a mix. If it’s brownish, mmmm homemade.
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