Advertisement
Published: November 22nd 2007
Edit Blog Post
Elevator
Funky lift outside a modern skyscraper. I know, I know. It’s been forever since I last wrote. I think the last thing you read was about my trip to Belgium and my rant about the strike. Well, we are currently on the 7th day of a second strike. I’ve heard that this is the union’s last chance. They won’t back down until Sarko changes his mind on the special pensions. So we can all essentially forget that there is a metro in Paris.
Anyway, the biggest things that have happened since my last blog are: getting my carte de sejour (which, after all the hassle is just a small little card that says I’m a legal resident of Frnace) the Semaine Pedagogique, and my 20th birthday. The Semaine Pedagogique is a one week break in the middle of the semester given by Sciences Po so that we can study, catch up with our readings and do all the work that was assigned to us (pedagogique = educational, which means that there can be NO confusion as to the purpose of the vacation). So, naturally, I spend all my time going from chic British clubs to fancy Spanish boutiques, with a little Parisian foie de veau in
What were they thinking?
Egg-shaped skyscraper behind an older building. the middle. This “Semaine Pedagogique” is the time where every student and professor chills out, not having to worry about schoolwork, grèves or Sarkozy. I like this French idea of a break every month in order to make it through the year (Vacances de Noël are coming soon!).
To those who might not understand the logistics behind my trips, let me explain. Since, as you all now, I do not have classes on Thursdays and Fridays, I was able to combine all this into a mad long vacation. My parents flew over from Puerto Rico, which is nice because they brought me bottles of my unhealthy, sugar-infused addiction, otherwise known as kiwi-strawberry Snapple, adobo and other things that I have yet to find in Paris (ok and I missed them and was excited to speak Spanish again).
With my brand-new carte de sejour in hand, I made my way to Gare du Nord to catch my morning Eurostar to London. I hadn’t been to London for more than 5 years, but once the train crossed the channel there was no doubt we were in England: the sky became cloudy, the weather was ugly and people suddenly drove on
Chinatown
Manifestations always seem to follow me. the wrong side of the road. After four days there, I would say I’m not the biggest London fan. But I didn’t dislike it either. I guess I’m just indifferent. Don’t get me wrong, the city is big, modern, loud, chic, and VERY multicultural (which are all positives in my book), but there was something strange about it. It’s hard to describe. It didn’t feel like my kind of place. My dad and I agreed (and my mom was not happy about this), some parts of London look like a post-industrial New Jersey city—not that there’s anything wrong with New Jersey. I guess after living for two months in such a clean, old city, London felt a little chaotic, grimy, and tacky. There are cranes everywhere, but there does not seem to be any sort of planning or interest in good design. Besides, everything was too expensive: dinner at a Chinese place (ok it was good, yet it’s the kind of place that can be found in any New York street corner or even in San Juan) was 30 POUNDS per person—which, at the current exchange rate, translates to more than 60$!!! Conclusion: unless there is an economic disaster in
Streets signs
If it weren't for these, I would have been run over by every car in London. Britain that brings the exchange rate down, stay away unless you want to go bankrupt, especially when there’s other, much cheaper options (Paris included).
We then spent a couple of days in Paris, since I had classes that I had to attend. My poor dad spent the entire time inside my apartment. I’m very grateful, because now it actually looks like a nice place.
Next and final stop: MADRID! And if you were already thinking that I was being too critical (you know, like living in Paris has made me dislike anything that is not Paris) well you’re wrong. Because I could not have liked Madrid more. The city was fun, dynamic, a little dirty (in a good way) and young. Although I cannot be happier that I don’t study there, because there is no way I would be able to get anything done. I left with the impression that people never stop eating, drinking and smoking in Madrid. Seriously, these people have, like my mom calls it, calidad de vida.
In conclusion, London is OK, Madrid is better and Paris is the best. I wanted to talk a little about my birthday weekend but I can
Soviet Britain
My parents in front of a cube-shaped building. do it on my next blog because I don’t have more time now (my friend Jorge just got to Paris and I have to go pick him up in Opera). I promise I won’t take so long to write the next blog entry.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.056s; Tpl: 0.015s; cc: 7; qc: 51; dbt: 0.0293s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb