Blasted French keyboards

I am currently in Lyon for a short stop on my way to Carcassone, and struggling with my first French keyboard. So needless to say, I will save most of what I discovered for another time. This morning I plan to make an attempt to explore the city, which looks amazing out of my window. On March 1, I am flying to London, to spend my final leg in London, Bath and York. As luck would have it, I will be in Bath for their annual literature festival!!

More to come....

Versailles and Chartres

Well, now that my blog seems to be gaining in popularity, I feel the pressure to live up to a high standard of wittiness! Let's see if my experiences today are up to the challenge.

To start, last night I had an interesting chat with one of my hostel roommates, who is fresh out of high school from New Zealand and here on a work program. He mentioned that Americans have a general reputation for being the highest tippers in the world, and wished to know the reason. After much debate, I suppose I am not surprised why we are. I explained in extremely exhausted language that wait staff at restaurants rely mostly on tips, since their wages are much lower than other hired help. So tipping is expected as a result. I decided at the end that it very much relates to our philosophy of equality; just because I am the one being served does not mean I am any better than the person who is serving me dinner. So I feel a responsibility to compensate them for their services. I mean, I cannot even bring myself to stiff a terrible waiter! Again, exhausted language gets the best of me, so feel free to return comments on how better to describe this extremely cool phenomenon, which only just recently occured to me!

Anyway, this morning I woke up early and took a day trip to Versailles and Chartres. Versailles was amazing, even in the less than gorgeous weather I have been enjoying. As I toured the palace, I was impressed by the French extravagant style, even if I did not quite admire it. To think that so much wealth could create such incredibly rich gaudiness! But still, an incredible palace. Outside, I could not help but start to contemplate what made the French royalty think that they needed so much space! The thing is huge! You can see it from miles and miles away! Of course, I helped to justify it a little by remembering that the palace did, after all, hold not only the royal family, but also the newly centralized government and everyone who was anyone of the French nobility. So I suppose hundreds of room was the bare minimum they could get away with after all (slightly kidding). And once I had concluded thus, I turned back to the gardens, which are just as extravagant, if not more in a different way. Countless fountains, millions of gallons of artificially pumped in water, and an immense fake canal for afternoon gondola parties, not to mention the orangerie, are just a small part of the 25 miles (or some such number) that make up the estate. As a country girl, I could look at the miles of perfectly manicured lawns and forced wilderness and go, 'Yeah, I can see why you needed all of this.' Had it been a nicer day, you could bet I would have explored every corner of it. Perhaps later this summer, I could convince some people into accompanying me for another trip...

As I left the gardens, I took probably the longest shortcut in the world (a recurring theme of my adventures so far) back to the train station, only to find out that APPARENTLY the other station can only be reached on foot...not train or bus though there were many. So off I went, and arrived (amidst numerous buses, just for the record) at the information counter one minute before the train left. And you would think I would just wait for the next one? Nope, the most wonderful woman behind the counter jumped up, told me she would take me, and off we ran together, and I made it there with time to spare. Not only did she take all the work out of figuring out where to go, but she also took my word for it that I had a valid Eurailpass. She just handed me a ticket to get me through the turnstiles, and sent me on my way. Now that is what I am talking about! It was a great time.

Chartres was a great cathedral, with terrific stained glass creating a soft glow on the inside, and impressive sculpture making it a historic and artistic landmark on the outside. I walked all around it, and was rewarded with breathtaking views and excellent art throughout. Despite its significance both in religion and in art, I was a little surprised by its general lack of interest from tourists and slight state of disrepair from locals. Still, a worthwhile trip for anyone touring the Paris area, and definitely a feasible sidetrip from Versailles! It was a busy day, and I earned my shower at the end of it.

Tomorrow, I leave Paris behind (sad sigh), and head off to Normandy, to see Bayeux, Caen, and the D-Day beaches. Not sure about the internest access there, so until the next post!

Orsay, Rolls Royce, and Arc de Triomphe

This morning I made my way to the Orsay Museum, which has a terrific collection of Impressionist paintings. Since my experience of this genre is limited, I was not sure how much I would like it. So imagine my delight when I found the art to be not only delightful, but awesome in its energy and its peace. Some of it was pushing the button of not being my cup of tea, but overall I enjoyed the art on the first floor the most. But I would have to say that my enjoyment was a little bit lessened when I figured out that the art on the first floor was actually only Pre-Impressionism, and the later, less enjoyable stuff was the real deal. Oops. Well, at least now I know my limitations as an art connosieur. Impression=not for me.

After the museum, I decided to wander my way--somehow--to the Arc de Triomphe. I knew its general direction, and I had a bus map. I figured that would be enough...and thankfully for my mom's blood pressure (no doubt, when she reads this), it was. I ended up waiting for the bus in front of the Hotel de Chillon, which is a very upscale hotel, complete with fancy-dressed bellhops, lines of taxis waiting to serve the rich and famous, and rows of Beemer after Mercedes after Porsche. In fact, there was one guest who arrived in a vintage, mint condition Rolls Royce, navy blue, and beautiful to even my eyes. It was wildly amusing as tourists paused to stare and get pictures of it/with it; and even the savvy Parisians were impressed. As far as I was concerned, I enjoyed watching the people gawk, and I patted myself on the back for simply knowing it was a Rolls Royce without being told. A highlight of my day.

Lastly, I went to the Arc de Triomphe, which was fascinating for its size as well as being another symbol of the Parisian boastfulness. Together with the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, and Sainte-Chapelle, Paris is a walking posterboard for the expensive and the elaborate. I suppose these are all some of the reasons why we all love this city so much. I look forward to a return visit in the future.

Speaking of the expensive and elaborate, tomorrow I am taking a day trip to see Versailles and Chartres Cathedral. I mean, come on! I did not even know this was going to be a theme until five minutes ago! Is anyone else as fascinated with this obsession as I am?

Love the Louvre

I somehow managed to spend 5 and 1/2 hours in the Louvre this morning, and I did not come close to seeing it all! Egytian, Greece, Roman, Mesopotamian, French, Italian, Baroque, Gothic, Renaissance, etc etc...I saw A LOT!! Towards the end, though, as I was going into art overload and my legs were getting tired of my slow circling progress, I started to notice the other people in the museum. I looked to see how they traveled, whether it was straight out of a guidebook complete with fanny pack and sun bonnet, or laden with cameras, maps, guidebooks and audioguides, or simply with nothing at all. You can tell a lot about a fellow traveler by what he or she decides to carry. Camera=anxious to bring back a slew of show and tell photos, OR they love art and want to capture it for their own betterment and enjoyment (I can usually tell the difference given a few other factors); fanny pack=a conscientious traveler who takes the advice and expertise of others seriously, especially when venturing into the unknown of other cultures, places, and languages. Then of course you have the annoying tour groups and school groups, only a small portion of whom actually care about the art. Lastly, I noticed the kind of footwear my fellow Louvre visitors were wearing, and as each interesting ensemble meandered by, I could not help but wonder if their feet were killing them as much as mine. Surely my Timberlands are more suited for the floors of the Louvre than the high heels that constantly clicked by! But I got to a point that I thought everyone's feet appeared better off than mine, and that was when I decided it was time to find the closest 'Sortie' i.e. EXIT...But it was SOOO worth it.

Also ended up by the Eiffel Tower by chance, and did my tour of it at sunset, when Paris became a mesmerizing city of lights and spectacle. At the top of the hour, the Tower lit up and sparkled with the remnants of its Millenium celebration decorations for ten full minutes. Talk about a marvelous monstrosity!

Last day in Paris tomorrow...

Now in Paris

So I took a night train from Florence to Paris last night, and already I am liking this country, and it somehow surprised me how excited I was when I arrived. The people are not as cold as I expected (perhaps it is just that the Italians are worse) and the city is so clean! How does a city this big manage it?

So far I have seen Notre Dame, which was beautiful, Sainte-Chapelle, which wasn't as wonderful as I anticipated, the Deportation Memorial, which was moving in its compellingly simple construction, and the Roudin Museum, which has introduced me to a new favorite artist. The Thinker was powerful..heck, ALL of the sculptures were powerful in their rich emotions. I took pictures of some of my favorites. Look forward to those once I am in Erfurt!

Tomorrow, I am off to the Louvre. Good luck retrieving me!!

I Totally Got Lost in Siena

Siena, the Gothic art rival of medieval Florence, the city that everyone in the office of travel expert Rick Steves rants and raves about how wonderful it is. The beautiful and magical city at sunset. Well, they must mean that other Siena, because the one I am in is a maze of sloping streets (so steep it is a miracle I haven't fallen down any yet) and impossible to find sights. I came in yesterday afternoon, and after illegally riding the bus for a good while, I finally got a driver who pointed out the correct stop for my hostel. I get there to find the best room I have stayed in yet, plus the opportunity to do laundry later in the evening. Anxious to see one attraction before everything closed, I asked the unfriendly, marginally helpful guy at the desk, and managed to get to the Duomo in the city center. It was amazingly busy with art and decoration. It was not my favorite cathedral, but still pretty impressive and awe-inspiring.

As I left, it was starting to rain, and remembering my last experience in that kind of weather, I immediately set off for the bus stop. Keep in mind, I am still riding illegally, because the ticket the hostel gave me expired after an hour, and there was nothing open on a Sunday for getting a new one. So thinking logically, I go to the stop across from the one where I got off, thinking it would be the same bus lines, just the opposite direction. Good in theory. Number 10 did not stop there. So I headed off down the street, thinking that there were tons of stops, and I would eventually come to one that had bus 10. Again, good in theory, severely wrong in practice. So I got lost in Siena, trying to figure out how to get back to my hostel. But thanks to some friendly, non-English speaking locals, and a wonderful driver on bus 3, who took me back to where I had started to catch bus 10 (surprise, surprise), I made it back to the hostel to do some laundry and to take an amazing shower.

This morning, I was re-energized and ready to tackle the steep streets of Siena. After finding the main square, I set off to go to the art museum. And wouldn't you know it, I got lost again, and was tired enough with my heavy backpack that I just decided that Siena would be my city of doing nothing and relaxation before I get on a night train to Paris later today. As much as I would have liked to have seen so many of the artists that I studied in Western Art first-hand, I am sorry to report that sore knees, confusing streets, a heavy backpack, and unreliable maps and directions won out.

Sam told me not to have too many crazy adventures without her. I am sorry to report that the crazy adventures have only just begun.

The joys of small town Italy

So I will be the first one to admit that I was getting pretty darn tired of the unfriendly city-folk that inhabit Rome. So when Sam and I left for Paestum yesterday morning, I think we were both relieved and excited about the change.

We left for the station a little later than we had planned, so we got to experience for the first time the joys of literally running to catch a train. We made it in plenty of time, but it would turn out that that train would be delayed somewhere that started with "MON"--that was all I could see of the sitgn--for over an hour. This meant, of course, that we missed our connection in Salerno. I have decided that these are the kind of snags in travel plans that get me the most stressed out, because they are beyond my control and it sucks when there is nothing I can do to fix it. But it worked out that we caught a train to Paestum almost immediately after getting to Salerno (by some miracle I decided to double-check the board and discovered ALL the trains were running late).

As we traveled further and further south, the sweeping apartment buildings and overall cloudy atmosphere of the big cities gave way to beautiful mountains and rolling farmlands. The people grew friendlier and the air cleaner. I was enjoying the ride when our stop came, and my anxiety returned, for our stop was downright close to the definition of 'the middle of nowhere'. There was a station, sure, but not a person in sight, and it seemed the only way to leave it was to drive off, which obviously we had no possibility of doing. But by our luck, there was a map, and the Greek ruins of Paestum were not more than a mile away, and so we made it there safely.

When we got there, however, what seemed to be the entrance was already closed, and so my next greatest fear appeared to be realized; we had come all that way, with all those delays and everything else to discover that the ruins were already closed. But again, to our luck, a British mother/daughter combo came strolling up with the same intention of seeing the ruins. They quickly read the sign, which said something about the entrance was 50 meters north of the Neptune Bar, and they set us off in the right direction. They were not at all interested in making two very nice friends, but they helped us a bit anyway.

So in the end, we got in to see the absolute greatest ruins I could ever imagine, topping even the Colosseum. The site had not only three of the most intact Doric temples from all of Ancient Greece, but also the ruins of an entire city built around them, including houses, an ampitheater, and forum. It was absolute historical heaven. And to top it all off, the weather was dreamy: sunny skies, green grass, flowers, and almost 70 degree weather (eat your hearts out, snowy Ohio!) All of our pictures are terrific...look forward to those in the future. Yesterday was by far the greatest adventure thus far.

Sam and I have both decided the Paestum is the perfect place to retire; work at the ruins by day, walk the quiet, pedestrian filled streets by evening. And the people were so much more approachable and freiendly. It was such a nice change from the continuous chaos that accosted us in Florence and Rome. Each has its place, but in the end, we are small town girls after all.

Today, we are headed off to see the ruins of Pompeii, before we head back to Rome, and before Sam leaves for home tomorrow morning. I will miss her, but in her going, I get to move on to the second phase of my trip, which I look forward to as well.