The Picadilly to London and Liberty Fries

This is the longest I have not updated! Crazy, and I feel the oddity of it. Early Friday morning (5:30 a.m.) we set off for the Paris du Nord train station and took the Eurostar Chunnel straight to London. The train ride itself was easy itself, lasting only a little over two hours.

As a side note, I realized that I really need to watch my mouth. There was this man sitting on the opposite side of the aisle from me on the train incessantly typing on his laptop, which annoyed me as I was trying to sleep. I faintly remember that I did, actually, end up falling asleep, woke up briefly to his typing, swore at him, then fell asleep again. In France I completely take advantage of the most-often-chance that people do not understand me. Not in England, and not a good habit for when I return home.

The audible hearing of the English language in general was a pure mindfuck. It really took me all of the first day to get used to it, bringing along the realization that I was and am really assimilating into the French culture without even being aware of it.

When we arrived it was still quite early in the morning (8ish - we gained one hour coming from Paris) so we had the whole day. Jen and I only got one hour of sleep from the night before so we were operating on whatever amped-up, leftover energy we had. We ate brunch at this lovely little French cafe called La Montparnasse in the Kensington district of London. I never appreciated scrambled eggs with toast and a cappuccino with sprinkled cinnamon more:

While on the topic of food, Kensington offered this gourmet cupcake shop called "Buttercup," which we just had to stop at.

{Select mango, mocha, red velvet and vanilla bean (already enjoyed)} Hello, breakfast for the remaining London days.

Jen and I were sent to go off to take the tube for shopping at Oxford Circus where we went to the famed London Topshop! I have never been so overwhelmed by clothes before (in a bad way). I hate shopping in general and this was like walking into a giant incubus of the shopping pet peeve; floors upon floors of clothes, it was comparable to the size of an office building. I would call Topshop the IKEA of clothes, literally, it had a cafe, salon, Topman (men's clothing floor) and an area for kids. For me, it was a one-time experience only, and in general, London's fashion style goes from very trendy to East Coast-conservative blah.

Oh, hey.

By Saturday I decided that London was a European America, if that. You could look at a grouping of people and the surrounding contextual environment and feel like you were in an American city. All fast food types that we have back home could be seen on every block (McDonalds, Subway, Starbucks, etc.), which are rarely seen, if not at all, in at least France and Italy, correct me if I'm wrong. When I went to one of the Starbucks in England, it was the first time I had chain coffee since I've been overseas. Let's just say I was not prepared for the shock difference in taste since I have been spoiled with cafe cremes, au laits and espressos from local French cafes. In all honesty, I'd compare the former to tasting like soot, as I would imagine soot to taste.

Buckingham Palace. Remove the blemishes of people and obnoxious gate. There was really no possible way to get a good tourist picture of any monument; there were either too many people (see below lack of "personal bubble") or obstructive ugly gates/construction stuff going on.

Big Ben! Down a ways is Westminster Abbey.

Jen and I both put off our journals till the very last minute, so Sunday was dedicated to completing them, which were due at 8 p.m. Paris time, 7 p.m. London time, and we had to get to the train station to return to Paris early, anyway. Back to La Montparnasse (the quaint French cafe in Kensington mentioned above), and some scrambled eggs and toast, two cappuccinos, my own chocolate and good eye contact produced a party invitation and the extent of writing equivalent to completing a Human Event paper, all enjoyably effortless :)

Mixed London Observations:

- I felt that most people in London don't understand the idea of a "personal bubble" in the sense of having the lack of a general order to walking on streets and the concept of a wait line. Crazy low-flying pigeons that aim for your face are included here.

- I could not tell half the time if people were pregnant and/or just had everything concentrated in the mid-section.

- Soo many lack of hyphens on signs. It got to the point where I wished I had a Sharpie to write them in.

- English are obsessed with Italian food, too, what is this. The main street where we stayed had at least four Italian restaurants. I guess it works because pub food is gross anyway. I ordered some kind of cheese and sun-dried tomato panini at this one non-Italian restaurant and swore it was Velveeta. Am pretty sure that was correct, for on the train back, some British girl yelled, "Pass the Velveeta, please!" to her sibling across the way. . .

- Jen and I were mistaken as Parisians, multiple times, and we proudly navigated around London completely on our own.

Though London was a beautiful city, we all decided that Paris is much more preferred if it had to come between the two.

I think the only high point of the day today was my choking on/throwing up water upon hysterically laughing and not being able to control myself mid-gulp before class started.

This week's study focus: Candide, Les Liaisons Dangereuses (like) and Maldoror.

Cafe Done

I'm supposed to be doing homework right now, shh. Mary, Alison and I are at this wonderful Spanish cafe. They were playing David Bisbal as we walked in; I naturally dance-walked my way in. It's officially a meant-to-be homework cafe.

Shakespeare and Company! (visited yesterday)

I'm not sure why this surprised me, but the first floor is all English books and the second, in French. Also: the pairing of books in general plus a physical spot where Hemingway once visited quite often (A Moveable Feast reference, hehe) = my happy place. I took a picture of the Hemingway section of the store but decided against posting it here, for I would consider it to be pointless and boring if I were a reader of this blog and did not share in Christina's unhealthy Hemingway obsession. We will be going on a "Hemingway Walk" in about a week or so, so be prepared anyway.

I enjoyed this little blurb outside of Shakespeare and Co. and thought you would, too.

Sadly, I just realized that I did not take any pictures of anything at all today, so sorry you can't see what I wore today or how poofy my hair was from the rain. My explanation for lack of photos is it was kind of a non-interesting photo-opp day. We met at the Mussee d'art et d'histoire du Judaisme this morning and honestly, I am starting to get museum-ed out so I kind of drifted through it. After, Jen, Marian, Alison and I went shopping. And let me tell you, we attacked. Viciously.

Most interesting part of the day: going into a coffee shop and it not having coffee. I ordered a blended drink and the guy was like "cafe done." I was like, "??" until someone behind me translated that they were out of coffee. How do you run out of coffee at a coffee shop? They had bags of coffee for sale in front of the bar with sample beans, why didn't they just take some of that? Just saying.

Early, early train tomorrow morning to London for the weekend!

A Special K Type of Day

From yesterday:

Facade of Notre Dame cathedral. I wouldn't consider myself to be religious, generally, but I do love old cathedrals. I guess I would describe the awe-inspired feeling derived from an appreciative historical aspect I get from them to be "spiritual." (I have more to comment on this; save for later.)

The girls with Notre Dame as backdrop.

Sainte Chapelle. Famed for its mirroring stained glass windows, flamboyant gothic style architecture. The glass itself dates from the 13th century, 70% still original and intact.

Today: Feat.

Somehow got through 4 hours of class followed by Medieval section of the Louvre, which between the two, includes a grueling hot, stuffy, Purell-filled Metro ride.

394 Cultural Decadence class:

Peter: "What do you want to do for dinner tonight?"

Me: "Not pesto pasta."

After feeling really shitty all day, I got this random wave of hyper-ness during our professor-led tour of the medieval foundations of the Louvre, which are presently located in the basement. After seeing the Venus de Milo (pictured below), I progressively felt sick again and had to sit down and eventually leave early(ish) compared to everyone else. We are scheduled to have an all-day Louvre day sometime next week so I'll be sure to plan ahead.

Venus de Milo. No one cares, but I'll say it again: first nude female depiction of antiquity.

Mary, Jen and I outside of the Louvre! By the way, this was taken close to 20:00 (8:00 p.m.) and it's still light out.

Also, Mary Richardson, just wanted to say again that you are the sweetest thing, and that I'm having some Special K right now ;)

Eclairage Epidemic

Eclair + Rage = Eclairage.

Got a whole box of 'em for homemade dinner tonight from a little patisserie after exploring the streets this afternoon.

I Ate This

I can't believe that I forgot to mention that I have eaten ham and chicken while being here (I am a proclaimed vegetarian for those who don't know). Just wait before you jump on my case. Last week when we were traveling about the countryside and were in Bayeux where everything seemed to close down by 4 pm, I was on a raid for food. We found this sketchy hole-in-the-wall place where I ordered quiche et frites maison. After ordering, I then realized that I would be in for a surprise for what would actually be inside the quiche (fingers crossed, vegetables s'il-vous-plait). Not. Ham it was!

And I didn't care. At first I ate it, but early-midway through I started picking it out (as you can tell). I wouldn't even eat this back home if given, and I ate it here, just to show how stomach wins over reason. If this photo's not enough proof, Kevin witnessed it all.

Second faux pas: chicken. My only single and complete observation is that I wanted it ok, I wanted it. Yumyumyum.

Eiffel Tower "dinner picnic"! I really don't know what else to call it, but here we are.

After eating, we went up the Tower; view from and shadow of.

Also, I creepily had to take this photo of this Parisian woman the other day. Notice the matching gloves, shoes and kind-of cardigan; particularly the gloves.

Paris!

Although we initially arrived in Paris just a little over a mere week ago, I feel as if I have just really gotten here. We settled into our Parisian apartments yesterday for good. I'm going to copy down here some pointed comments I made in my hand journal yesterday on our bus ride to the city:

- 3 hours to rest stop. I really hope that means a gas station. Am tempted to video record what one looks like.

- Got my vending machine coffee!! And fast food, which doesn't seem so at all, dear mozzarella, tomato, basil sandwich (Pane Bianco still reigns, no worries).

- I was thinking that if I grew up, went to school and had to pick a specialization at the university level here (referring to Europe in general), it would probably be in languages.

- So much reading work for Monday (Marie de France, Villon, Sir Thomas Malory)

- Thought: If big-band music introduced the D-Day video we saw in Normandy yesterday, would Lady Gaga, or some lesser equivalent, be the music choice to introduce some documentary of the Iraqi War a generation from now? Just saying.

- Giverny, Monet Gardens: His house painted in subdued-sorbet colors; blue against purple / green shutters / off-mustard yellow dining room and blue and white tiled design in kitchen, all beds of lace with fresh flowers in each room. The uncertainty of whether the rooms were actually set up like so during their original prime bothers me.

--

Today, Sunday, was our first day off of no scheduled activities! We have no given meals anymore, so we had to go to the morning market, of which I have been so looking forward to. Lines of set-up stalls with the freshest food and local crafts with so many people composed of customers, browsing tourists and photographers.

Holding baguettes, cheese and fruit in bag.

Our kitchen!

"Fumer tue" reads, "Smoking kills" in French. The pure irony: What first attracted me to this package was the bold-lined rectangular white box. Maybe they should reconsider.

It's really weird to keep three different journals at once (here, Moleskine I carry around in my bag and the crappy 99 cent spiral for academic business turn-ins). It seems that I am keeping every other kind of log besides the one I'm supposed to be doing to turn in and be graded on.

Normandy

I had a really bad caffeine headache this evening, turned pre-stage migraine, back-turned to current headache thanks to some lent Advil

: /.

Of all days, today Mary and I overslept, and we didn't even go out last night. It was one of those "what the heck happened" moments when you wake up to your phone alarm next to you in bed. It obviously rang at 7:10, but it didn't register till an hour later (we had to leave at 8:45). We scrambled down to breakfast just in time to hopefully salvage a croissant (damn croissants, getting so sick of them). To our glory there was CHEESE and FRUIT and MEAT (not for me, obvs, just added to the list to note the newfangled excitement of food change) and just enough time to grab part of a baguette, cheese and apple ravenously before setting off to our first destination: Le Musee du Debarquement. Here we were briefed on the paired technical-natural detailing of the military setup leading up to D-Day. Interesting, but honestly, I was confused and tired as hell during the tour and sleep shuddered during the short, about 15-minute movie.

I'd have to say that the most interesting part was actually going out onto the beach and seeing the remaining concrete barriers and remains within the Channel.

Peter, Jen, Marian and Kevin on the beach.

Jennifer and I.

Second and last destination for the day: Omaha Beach / American cemetery. Beautiful and serene, I think this was the outing everyone has gotten the most into so far, interestingly enough.

When we returned to Bayeaux (yep, I found out exactly which town we are staying in), Jen, Marian and I decided to go shopping. After scouring the streets and being unimpressed by sulky envelope-like clothes for mid-thirty-somethings, but super impressed by the patisseries, we finally found a shop called Mes Amies M'ont Dit, translated as "My Friends Told Me So." Let's just say, some serious stuff went down. All three of us ended up trying on the same style dress in different colors without knowing it at all. And the things definitely followed us out of the store as well.

With an end for now, I cannot express enough just how excited I am to finally go back to Paris and officially move into our apartments for the remainder of the stay tomorrow :)

Quick and Brief

I honest to God have no idea exactly where we are right now, but we're in Normandy. I am currently in the hotel lobby awkwardly trying to glance around for something with the name of the town we're in, but keep making awkward eye contact and accompanied by even more awkward "bonsoirs" with the front desk person.

Going off on that tangent, a cultural trait I have been told and confirmed to notice about the generalized French: If they wish to talk to you, they will. If not, there will be no exchange of words or glances. This is excluding the customary polite "bonjour," "au revoir" and "bonsoir" when greeting people in shops, restaurants, hotels, etc. I'm talking about the everyday person on the street. And I like this and find it to be more my style. (Crap - now he's attempting to talk in English fml maybe I'll try, "No hablo ingles" or, "Non parlo inglese," though I feel that would fail as well. Google Translate to Finnish, now [Kayla]) I feel that it is par usual for Americans to most often than not, smile and say "hey" to people they make any kind of contact with, even just with the eyes, then following with either an immediate look away or an ensuing conversation. If it follows to the latter, it's pointless and superficial (in my opinion), so I guess the French would see this as a waste of time (agreed).

Anyway, they have really nice gas stations here. You don't know what I am talking of until you see it for yourself; it can only just be said for now. I would compare it to a nice convenience shop if it were placed in the States. They had these sweet coffee vending machines inside (we really, really need to get these back home).

A group of us didn't know how it worked so I let a European guy behind me go ahead and we creepily watched in awe.

First, you select which type of coffee drink you'd like to have (espresso, au lait, etc.)

Then, a little plastic cup with stirrer drops down from the top and it makes your drink for you.

Done. Awesome.

Andd they just turned all the lights off on me. In the lobby. I'll write more tomorrow, hopefully.

Omelette du fromage, please

All I want is an omelette du fromage. And two eclairs; one before omelette, one after. This is all getting just almost unhealthy. I think the two food groupings even each other out, though. We determined today that French people are obsessed with Italian food and trying to interpret it on their own (I have never seen so many pizzerias in my life), picnic food (bread, cheese, fruit, etc. you individually get at a market and eat outside) or you get indoor picnic food (same thing except inside restaurants where you pay much more). I don't know, maybe we're missing something.

One of the chocolate eclairs and the circular dessert on the bottom left (need to find out the name) was both mine, of which I'm proud to say I ate consecutively after a lunch of fondue 4 fromage and a salad.

Today we visited the Chateau Chenonceau in the French countryside. I thought it was fitted bliss to listen to Beirut on the bus ride there. My determined state of happiness would be to fall asleep listening to Beirut on the grass in the middle of the countryside. I've always considered myself to be an "urban" person, but the French middle of nowhere certainly is beautiful.

Oh, did I mention that the cheateau had an actual moat that is still kept up? The wall behind us is the barrier. Pretty sweet.

Garden at the side of the chateau.

For dinner we went back to the Au Coin d'Table where I had a salade tomate mozzarella au pesto with frites maison and later a cafe creme along with a coupe de glace caramel split between Jen and I. Other reasons we came back to this restaurant besides our wonderful dessert experiences last night was because the waiter was courteous and friendly. Unable to explain what exactly something was on the menu, he went back twice to online translate "eggplant" and something else from French to English for us.

Also, the restaurant has two house kitties that are not only ridiculously cute, but quiet and friendly if you welcome them. This little one just jumped into Marian's lap while finishing up dinner and stayed there resting for quite some time :)

Really wanted another creme at the cafe down the street before bed, but the same creepers who were there two hours before were still there, now inside. So, je ne sais pas...no, I did not end up getting it. And I really need to stop editorializing my weird habits.

I have also noticed that the French are obsessed with wallpaper. I wonder - when they come over to the States, do they find our most usually blank walls to be strange? (Rhetorical question; no answers unless you personally know someone French).

Thought I would upload this just for fun - this is from a restaurant which seemed to me to be the French version of an American diner. I took this with my camera phone so hence, poor definition. Notice "tenager's" for "teenager's" and "A surprise" under the "little kids menu." Oh, funny French.

Tomorrow we leave for Normandy for the next two days. Expected to be very cold.

Yesterday and Today

Note: I have decided that instead of saying the unclassy "wtf" it is now either "what the fromage" or "what the FIAP." Only the people on this this trip will ever find the latter to be hilarious.

Yesterday we left Paris for a week of touring about France. Along the way to the Loire Valley, we stopped at the town of Chartres specifically to see the Notre-Dame de Chartres cathedral, commonly known as just "Chartres cathedral." Again, I'm proud to have had the education and still-maintained interest in art historical things. With knowledge of Chartres already, this was an almost surreal treat. We were supposedly endowed with an epic 80-something-year-old tour guide of Chartres-filled knowledge who was actually really funny, sarcastic and borderline racist. We'll just blame it on age. Good quotes from Malcom, the tour guide, I recorded:

- “Why are you all avoiding me? Come sit in the front pew. Or you can sit on my lap.”

- “Oh, Japanese…(later on) The Japanese again, let's move ahead here...”

- “Their flag looks like underwear." (referring to "Japanese" group of tourists)

I think that Chartres should just get rid of all of its other 3 cathedrals except for Notre-Dame Chartres; obviously the oldest and most epic one.

We climbed the left Gothic-style tower (so many narrow steps). Gothic steeple detail.

Blois is a quaint, small town in the Loire Valley. When we arrived we immediately visited the town's Chateau, which is situated adjacent from our hotel. "Blois" in French is pronounced like "blah" in English. And honestly, it's quite fitting; the town is quite blah (enter in obnoxious Ke$ha song). For a Monday yesterday, all shops and most restaurants/cafes were closed for some kind of holiday so there was really nothing to do. We are "forbidden" to cross the river to the "other side" for some sketchy reasons but is so tempting (see picture below).

Today - this morning - my calves hurt so much after climbing all those steps at the tower at Chartes plus uphill walks and dragging my suitcase up flights of stairs when moving into the new hotel at Blois. Why any other part of my leg isn't sore - like obvious quads, perhaps? - who knows. It just has to be the calves and I am freaking out. They were bothering me so much today I almost became nautious (sp? this is red-underlined).

Besides the calf freak-out, first thing we set out to do was take a 30-minute bus ride to Chateau Chambord. Interesting nerd points I wrote down while on the tour of:

- Larger-than-necessary map for own residents.

- Fabrics (tapestries) imported for warmth; furniture less important. (The inside of the chateau was actually much, much colder than the outside air temperature, interesting enough.)

- Extravagant roof, simple, ordered façade.

- King’s bedroom faces the east, symbolically taking the place of God.

Then we visited a second chateau. The Chateau Cheverny. This place needs to be reported and/or burned the fromage down. Give me a second to explain after the deceiving frontal picture and a few fun facts:

- You are able to rent the moldy dining room for entertainment purposes.

- French nobility family still lives in the Chateau and occupies the top floor and still hunts...(you see where this is going)

Just to preface, it didn't help much that I was not only already tired, but had that just awake-tired feeling after getting crappy sleep sitting upright on a bus. Anyway, everyone was excited to see this area where the family keeps beagles after the tour of the chateau itself. They ended up not being beagles at all but some kind of hybrid-incest dogs numbering about 100 caged in this tiny kennel. It was just horrid and sad. The peak of it all was when the whole lot of them ended up ganging up on and cornering one dog. I honestly had to walk away before I would cry. It's like here is your "beautiful" estate (obviously not my aesthetic style), with hundreds of acres of grass that is manicured daily with "Do not walk on grass" signs, and the dogs are stuck in what seems to be a 2X4 area in comparison with the rest of the place. Also, directly behind the kennel is a "peace garden" with dying flowers and cut glass which looks like first grade artcraft where you can audibly feel the dogs on the other side.

So much Franco-Italian food everywhere (taglietelle and pizza obsession, caprese, calzones, Illy coffee) and it sucks. Seriously; not.good.pasta. For the most part, am eating healthy. Today's lunch after viewing the Chateau Chambord: locally grown strawberries that are in the shape of mini torpedos (yes), two baguettes, sheep's cheese, a bottle of wine and dessert split between five of us.

Except for newfound desserts! Speaking of, I've finally found my real French eclair! Since in Blois, my new thing now is to stop by the nearest good-looking boulangerie, purchase an eclair and eat it while a group of us goes walking around for what seems like forever to find a place to eat dinner. And of course, more dessert naturally follows dinner anyway with a cafe creme.

That's all for now!

Photos, photos et plus!

Now I'm more embarrassed to say that I discovered today with a little help from my friends (haha, ok, song reference..) that I could insert my camera memory card into my laptop. Hello, Christina.

Katie, Mary and I at the Metro station.

No explanation needed except commentary: you really can't take a bad picture of the Eiffel Tower.

Fruit and vegetable market [Erin Gio]

I still can't believe how fresh and locally-grown everything is. The smell of the food in the markets here is inescapable. One can literally smell it from blocks away. I realized that in Phoenix and in the U.S. in general, this basic luxury is essentially nonexistent. In fact, mostly everything is imported and vacuum-sealed in some kind of way. Even our deli's pretty much "encage" the food, supposedly delivered and made fresh daily (?). And you'd think I had gotten the blueberries, but I didn't! Actual cranberries, instead. I have never had a real cranberry before and no, Ocean Spray cran-grape does not count [Ted].

Ok, let me introduce my new favorite type of flower - pivoines. Well, at least these specific ones. Tulips are still the best. And I have to mention that the most interesting, pleasant thing I've observed thus far in regards to Parisian flowers are the multitudes of men carrying them around. I have not seen one woman.

My resulting lunch post-market shopping at the Eiffel Tower green. So much fromage (cheese)! According to Dalton/Susser there's one different type of cheese for each day of the year. Another reason to love the French kitchen: not only is food shopping done every two days on average, but everything is left out on the counter to briefly age to its purest ripeness. A refrigerator is only useful for what was not eaten the day of purchase that must be in a cool environment to be eaten the next day.

Today's breakfast: omelette au fromage (cheese omelette. Yes, more cheese) at L'Ecir cafe. I really do love being a morning person here. Just sitting, enjoying the food and the morning. It made me question why I let myself have 10 minutes to spare in the morning back at home to gulp down coffee and run out the door. Oh yeah, there's nothing wonderful outside besides rocks.

After galavanting about the metro and watching the weird-required film - cafe au lait. Besides the cold, I felt so expatriate sitting at a cafe, ordering an au lait and doing my homework.

Can I just complain about the FIAP for a second? Well I have been all day but just for a second here. First, asking for towels is painful for the people here (Jennifer can attest). I'm sorry that I'm a towel whore and like to be hygienic. Why are there 5 outlets in our room where the holes are caulked and are thus unusable so I have to go down to the lobby? Why do we have to pay for internet in our rooms when it's free in the lobby (depending on if it works)? What is the point of folding up our beds each day if nothing else is replaced (towels, toilet paper, etc.)? Why is there no hand soap? Why is there an overhanging ledge directly above the sink so I end up impaling myself in the forehead every time I wash my face? Why does the fire alarm sound like a telephone ring (shout out to Barrett for conditioning me against any kind of alarm). I'm not sure why, but yesterday a group of us ended up hanging out in the lounge of the Mariott down the street I think in passing glory before going back to the FIAP. It was like please, give me more wine so the FIAP never happened.

Thankfully, we're leaving the FIAP early tomorrow morning for different excursions around France for the rest of the week before finally settling into our Paris apartments next weekend. Chartres cathedral tomorrow [Liz and Erin H]. So, so excited :D

I'm stupid and realized this afternoon that I did not bring my camera cord to transport my photos off of my camera onto my computer. Darn! I had a great one of shopping and at the Eiffel Tower, too. After lunch at the Tower, a group of us figured out the Metro to get to l'Arc de Triomphe and eventually went down Champs-Elysees through to the other end of the street to the Tuileries Garden. More on that later, though. We'll be back in that area soon to visit the Louvre.

Going back in time, I woke up this morning naturally at 6:30 a.m. (What a shocker, right? Actually, not really, since it would be more so considered to be "pushing my limits" in regards to my regular insomniac tendencies back home. Whatever, I can only hope to dream and exclaim myself to be a "morning person" in Paris). All up so early, Mary, Katie and I decided to go out and purchase our Pariscopes, of which we were supposed to get yesterday evening. Apparently they were out at the newstand (reminder, this is about 7:30 a.m. now), so we got a Paris Practique which is essentially pointless, instead. With time to kill we went to a "legit Parisian cafe" (yes, that quote is mine...now looking back, unfortunately so. And I do have the name of the cafe along with its address, however it's in my written journal I carry around to randomly jot things down), and honestly, it was one of the most relaxing experiences I have felt in a long while. I could perfectly-defined-well say that I felt awake and relaxed. Let me say that again. AWAKE and RELAXED. What, what!! I figured that the last time I felt that way was last summer. Such a rare feeling, both of them by themselves, but the two combined, almost inconceivable. But it happened. I have pinned down that perfect state of being to not only being physically well (nourished, sleep, etc.), psychologically well (mainly, feeling things are in order and for the best) but also environment. I had never realized how important the actual setting of things are and how it affects your physical and mental responses to things. The un-rushed, calm feeling of early morning Paris in the little cafe is really indescribable. It was just so nice to sit back in the chair (another thing I realized, I'm usually very physically uptight and sit stick-straight in chairs) with a cafe creme and not leave until we wanted to, having to ask for le cheque. I think that if I had my way, I'd sit there through till noon ordering just two cafe cremes, writing and people watching. With that, I have a greater understanding and appreciation for Hemingway.

I feel as if there is so much to say, and I do wish I had brought down my written journal with me to record more interesting specifics of my day so far instead of summarized generalizations.

In regards to the camera-photo issue, for now if I see something extremely necessary for here, I'll just have to take it on my phone and import/upload it here.

As for now, I know it's not Paris, but here's a picture of me in my hotel room IN Paris :)

Why does the only French I know either come from random phrases my mother would say growing up, everything with clothes or Lady Gaga?

Market shopping and lunch at the Eiffel Tower today.

Catch-up & Day 1

Ah, ok. Everything has been rather hectic; I just figured that I have been up for 48 hours straight give or take some airplane sleep if you can call that sleep at all. I am writing in the cafe downstairs of our hotel where we can only get wifi in the lobby (or else we have to pay for internet in our rooms) so paired with the exhaustion, excuse all haphazardness. Also, need I mention, that there are no outlets to charge my phone and/or computer in the room. If there are, they are blocked by a wall purposefully. Thankfully we are only staying here for 3 days.

The flights themselves from Phoenix -> Atlanta, Atlanta -> Paris were rather expected and smooth. I had to sit sandwiched between these two random guys; on my left, an older Indian man whom I initially shared the gift of cynic complaining with, but even he surpassed my talent in that and just got annoying. On my right, another study abroad student from University of Tennessee who ordered three beers and two bottles of white wine. I realized three-quarters of the way through the international flight that he was ridiculously smart doing so on such a long flight. I ended up getting through all of French Women Don't Get Fat... I'm divided in the sense that I feel that all that was said was common sense and repeated differently, consecutively (i.e. eat fruits and vegetables, watch your portion sizes, treat yourself sparingly, oh, did I mention that French women only eat fresh fruits and vegetables, etc.), but on the other hand, it's making me more conscious of what's in front of me (i.e. refusing to eat the "non-real" yogurt served on the plane for breakfast). Horrible. Worst timing to read that book when you're entrapped at an airport and airplane. Don't do it.

When getting from the airport to the hotel, we had to take the RER train. I have never been on such a quiet mode of transportation in my life, let alone personally calling myself "loud." We were the only ones talking and the train was packed, not including the random accordion man at the first stop. One could just imagine what a shock these people would get if they were placed on a bustling New York subway.

Arriving at the hotel with much time to spare (about 11:30 a.m. and our meeting wasn't until 16:00), we stopped for a bite to eat at some corner restaurant obviously catering to tourists so I won't mention anything more of it and walked around to get a feel of the area. I am already impressed with how the French dress. Since it is cold and sparsely rainy here, lots and lots of peacoats. I've noticed a common trend of low-heeled shoes for women as well. I think that the elderly women strolling the boulevards with their closely polished, yet natural style embody the epitome of the old French style and its persistence in modern life in how presenting oneself is an art to be taken seriously in this culture.

Very busy day tomorrow, and I don't care for the suggested advice given to go out and about and make yourself stay up until "at least midnight." Nope, heading to bed now at 20:15.

Pictures and more interesting stories promised for tomorrow.

Bonne nuit!