catch up part 2: All Work and All Play...

...is what my life in London seems to be all about!

First, BBDO stories, because BBDO=the best workplace and internship ever and I love it like nobody's business.  Then, lots and lots of gushing about one of my new favorite places to shop: Primark!

I know I kind of stopped giving the general rundown of how everyday life at BBDO has been going, but that hasn't been because it got boring, it's been because life has been so nuts.  This week I spent a lot of time working with Tom Krailing on Mars accounts again...always interesting.  Yesterday I cross-checked advice notes for what agencies should bill with what they did bill, then started bonus-payment calculations review. This was done based on Mars agencies' individual evaluations of the BBDO agencies who they deal directly with...each agency receives an aggregate score and the bonus is assigned accordingly.  It was a fun morning reading over each agency's reviews...and I caught a few significant errors so Tom kept calling me a genius.  It was nice :) even though catching basic math errors hardly qualifies me as a genius.  Still, I wasn't going to argue!

The other noteworthy comment on BBDO is the camaraderie that has developed between both the interns (Kayla, Kaitlin, Katie and me) and between Kaitlin and I with Steph.  I love coming to work because Steph (and the others in the office, but Steph especially because we work most closely with him) is so much fun to work with.  He's only 25 and has a wickedly funny sense of humor, and makes our cubicle the office hotspot for stopping by to chat.  Yesterday Kaitlin and I were having our lunch out in the café and he was sort of lingering by the food bar looking ove, it was so transparent he was hoping for an invite...so we asked him to join us and had the most ridiculously fun lunch break :)  Sometimes it's easy to forget that he's so close in age to us since he is technically one of our bosses, but the whole office environment is just great.  I hope someday I can work somewhere as fun again...this has been the best first office experience ever!

Now...Primark.  Aaaah Primark.  American readers are all familiar with Forever21, of course, as the biggest discount/trendy clothing retailer in the States.  Primark is the English equivalent to Forever21 only cheaper, better quality, and way more varied.  Kaitlin, Tess (a new London Program friend) and I went on Monday night after work...it's right on Oxford Street, near Baker Street!  It was absolutely insane in there...super crowded, fitting-room lines that stretched half the length of the store (which stretched almost half a block) and just general mayhem.  To be honest, not my kind of shopping experience...but I sipped the Primark kool-aid and went to town.  I ended up leaving with two pairs of flats, five pairs of tights (I needed them REALLY badly), a few shirts, a sweater, and a bag...all for under 30 pounds.  Yup.  Primark is dangerous.  Dangerously good deals, dangerously cute merchandise...I need to just stay away.

So that's London catch-up for the time being...time to go keep living life now!

catch up part 1: London Life Lately!

Hi...and oops.  This has taken me way too long to write because work (school and otherwise) still occasionally happens here in London, and this week has been a prime example of that...This update will be a random potpourri of London over the weekend, and then I'll get to that fabled post about Paris...I promise.

As I said on Friday, I had to meet with the internship program director, Cornelius, about BBDO and how things are going there.  He was interested in everything I've been doing, especially in office interaction (one of the major goals of internships in the ND program is to expose students to "real Brits"...yes, they do exist!).  I was extremely positive about the BBDO experience I've had, because it has been, in a word, superlative.  We ended up digressing onto a series of discussions on the London Program in general, which got two thumbs way, way up from me...so weird to think that I only have a little over a month left in this amazing, amazing city!!  :(

After Cornelius and I finished up, I downloaded almost a hundred different piano songs on sheet music blogs and played piano at the London Centre while it poured rain outside, hoping I could wait out the storm (I still hadn't replaced my beloved yellow J.Crew umbrella after spring break!!).  After about an hour and a half of piano time (really, the first time I've played piano extensively since last December...felt AMAZING), the storm had blown over and I set out into a beautiful sunny, rain-washed London.  The sky was absolutely riveting...think black storm clouds and blinding sunlight mixing to turn the whole city into this sparkling wet gorgeously brilliant place.  You couldn't have helped but be happy to be alive.  :)

Of course, I realized that I couldn't hope to get through five more weeks in London without encountering rain, so I stopped at a corner stand in Leicester Square and bought a really cute hot-pink and white striped umbrella...for the low, low price of three quid!  I was excited, even though it's a total piece of crap that will for sure not survive its first real thunderstorm.  Feeling on top of the world, I stopped at Ben and Jerry's for a kiddie scoop of cookie dough ice cream in a sugar cone and practically skipped home, loving the sound of all the different languages (I remember counting at least seven...), traffic and general London hustle-bustle.

Along the way, we always pass the Grey's Inn Gardens, which are surrounded by beautiful red-brick buildings and filled with gravel paths, benches, and absolute fields of daffodils...my absolute favorite.  The problem is, the gardens are fenced off and the gate is usually shut and locked.  Serendipitously though, it was open on Friday and I decided to take a ramble...I ended up off the paths just wandering through daffodils that came up to my knees.  Needless to say, I was absolutely in heaven...I spend 45 minutes there before going home and got my shoes, socks, and jeans soaking wet in the flowers...so worth it!!

Friday night was a letdown.  Think: really drunk college students trying to find a bar pretty far from the flats, without determining if that bar has a 10-pound cover on the weekends due to concerts.  Then think: aforementioned college students discover aforementioned cover, get really upset (irrationally) and instead dive into the first dive bar they find.  Then think: aforementioned dive bar is really gross and skeevy, and aforementioned college students are so weirded out they just go home without ever determining the name of aforementioned dive bar.  That's basically our night in a nutshell.  yupp.

Saturday dawned bright, sunny, warm and...homework-laden.  I've got a big accounting paper due tomorrow night that required quite a bit of researching and background work before it could be written, so I hit the ground running with that and spent hours (literally) reading fascinating (not-so-literally) articles about fair-value accounting and its role in the financial crisis.  Woo!  Then I NEEDED a break so I went for a walk down Farringdon to St. Paul's Cathedral...just a 15-minute walk away for some beautiful architecture and views.  I spent some time there just walking around, enjoying the sunshine, and ruminating on London and life in general.  Then I went home and did more accounting until it was party time!

I mentioned that in Montpellier we met three other American girls: two of them were Laurens who were students at Syracuse and one of them, Lauren L, had already planned to celebrate her 21st at the London Syracuse program.  Once we all connected over Facebook she invited us to join her, so Peter, Kate and I headed to the Syracuse flats near the British Museum for a night of good old-fashioned American fun...beer pong and flip cup followed by a night of clubbing!  We met lots of really cool people from Syracuse, Maryland, Brandeis...and got to reconnect with our fellow Montpellier survivors, which was hilarious.  We entered the party and were instantly famous as "the people who saved the Laurens in Montpellier," which was kinda cool :)  I played a few games of beer pong before getting wiped out by two total hustlers, then enjoyed the rest of the party before skipping out of clubbing to go home and sleep.  Mmm, sleep.

Sunday: Nicolle, Joanie and I decided to try to adventure to find a different church than the one we usually attend.  Unfortunately, we still suck at getting around London even after two and a half months here, and wandered around the area where the church was supposed to be for like twenty minutes before we just gave up and decided we had ultimate-failed but God would love us anyway for trying really hard.  Nicolle headed off to Brick Lane and Joanie and I started home.  We were just casually walking along when all of a sudden I looked up and spotted a familiar tousled head of dark hair and some very familiar man-capris............

I immediately squawked out, "Oh my god...Steph!"  That's right folks, I had just encountered the one and only Stephan Claridge IN THE REAL WORLD.  (Steph=my "handler" and absolute favorite favorite person ever at BBDO, duh.)  He was taken aback at first, I'm sure wondering "who the hell is this crazy girl talking to me" but as soon as he realized it was ME IN THE REAL WORLD we both got really excited and said a lot about "oh my god, it's a small world!" He then pointed out his flats...literally 25 yards from where we were standing...and I promised I wasn't a stalker.  After a few laughs and small talk, we parted ways.  I felt like SUCH A GROWN-UP.  I ran into a work friend in real life, and even cooler, he introduced me to his friend as "his colleague at BBDO."  That's right.  I am officially a COLLEAGUE.  Hahahahaha.  :D

The rest of Sunday was uneventful...some work, some catch-up on cleaning and laundry, and of course Mr. Martin Colianni's 21st birthday celebration!! Homemade chocolate torte by Kayla, profiteroles and cream tarts from Tesco...aaah wait there IS a story left.  And then this epic blog will be done.

I got asked out by the checkout boy at Tesco.  (This is the part where you laugh...)

Tesco is a very ubiquitous, very cheap supermarket and we ND students are pretty well-known at our local Tesco because it is convenient, in our price range, and sells Lambrini, the 1.50 pound wine we all love and drink like water.  I went in around 9 on Sunday night and was the only person in the store so the staff chatted me up a bit while I picked up sundry essentials.  One guy, an Indian teenager who couldn't have been older than 18, was especially friendly, asking about my weekend and being generally helpful.  He went to the register to check me out and when I gave him my card to charge the items, he commented, "Elizabeth, a lovely name...like the Queen!"  I was sort of like, "Yeah, haha, it's nice..." and thought to myself, "Weird, but whatever, sweet."  Then he looked at me and asked, "I get off work at ten, do you fancy having dinner with me?"  I seriously was like... "Whaaaaat?" in my head and spent ten seconds wondering if he was serious, completely dumbfounded and amused by the situation...and then I was very polite and said I had a birthday party to attend and left.  It was just very funny and ironic and amusing, and makes for a funny anecdote that is much better relayed in person.

Okay, now I'm done, because even I am bored of this blog at this point and I just need to stop writing it.  If you finished this whole entire post, you need to go make yourself a cup of tea and have a few Cadbury eggs to celebrate.  :)  Much love and happy Tuesday to all of you!!

"i am the green fairy!"

Here it is folks...after much anticipation, another long-delayed post about Paris!  My goal is to wrap up spring break over the weekend because next week we are all headed to Rome (and in my case, Venice as well) for Easter!  I can't believe it's that time already.  I can't believe how fast this semester is going by.  It's crazy!

As I mentioned in the post on Versailles here, after our day-trip out of Paris we met up with my flatmate Nicolle and her travel companions Siobhan and Julie for drinks.  As we were in Paris, after all, we decided we needed to be adventurous and bad-ass and all those other good things, so we looked up absinthe bars in the district we were both staying in.  There was one that seemed about equidistant between their hostel on République and our home in the 10e, so we Google-mapped walking directions and headed there.  We assumed it would be an easy walk as it only required two turns, but we managed to do both of those two turns wrong and walked almost all the way to République instead of getting to the place in the middle like we should have.  Lots of wandering around Parisian streets at night, but thankfully it was a decently nice area so there was no apprehension like there would have been, say if we were walking around Montpellier at night ;)

At any rate, we all finally got to this bar around the same time (the others had gotten really turned around too), and it turns out it either is, or claims to be, the oldest absinthe bar in Paris, Cantada II.  (Look at that link, and then you will be able to scoff at me for the rest of this story about what an idiot I am for taking us there in the first place :P )  

Turns out Cantada II was a goth-Satanist-Spanish fusion bar...yeah.  Wrap your head around that one.  Goth-Satanist-Spanish fusion.  It was as weird as it sounds...fake skulls on the wall, lots of pornographic-ish manga-style art that I could see people having tattooed on them in some countercultural effort to rebel.  I was a little weirded out, rocking my J.Crew sweater set and dragging four non-French speakers (Nicolle speaks a decent amount) in with me.  Everybody's reaction was a little skeptical as we grabbed a table, but it was handled with good grace and, in hindsight, it was a just-plain-hilarious situation.  I mean, it sounds like the opener to a bad joke: "Six Notre Dame students walk into a goth-Satanist-Spanish fusion absinthe bar in Paris..."

As the best French speaker of the crew, I headed bravely to the bar while the rest held down the fort...Charlie followed me thank goodness, which later was very fortunate.  I ordered six "mitres" of absinthe (a play on words based on the Satanist nature of the bar and the shape of the glasses...a mitre is a hat used by religious officiants) and settled in to wait...it takes about ten minutes to prepare absinthe correctly, because the actual alcohol has to be poured from the bottle over a sieve containing sugar cubes, dissolving the sugar completely and filtering down into the mitre before it is drinkable...it forms kind of a slurry-like texture.  

While we waited, two big tattooed vest-wearing biker-looking French men at the bar started a conversation with me, with the by now all-too-predictable opening line: "Your French is very good, where did you learn?"  Naive as I was, I explained that I was in university and had learned "au lycée" (high school) and at college.  They took this to mean effectively that I was young (yes) and wild (no), as is the French pre-conception of American college students.  They were hitting on me pretty hard, but in a very good-natured way, and if they wouldn't have looked like they were Hell's Angels lost in France, I wouldn't have made Charlie be my fake boyfriend while the absinthe filtered.  As it was, he stood with me and was a very good bodyguard/pretend BF for the next ten minutes.  My biker friends, whose names I have forgotten, were very assiduous in inviting me to return to La Cantada the next night, Friday, for the weekly orgy concerts.  That's right.  Orgy concerts.  I thought I had misheard them and thus told them that I had misunderstood.  They then explained, very explicitly, that every Friday night there were raging concerts in the basement that then turned into "lots of sex."  I politely said that we would consider checking it out, and our absinthe was fortunately done filtering so we took everyone's drinks to the table.  

Later, my nouveaux amis came over and one of them showed me his sketchbook, which was actually remarkably beautiful pen-and-ink drawings of Paris landmarks, Métro stops, and architecture...with naked women interspersed throughout.  Still, we had a wonderful look-through them as we sipped our absinthe, which tasted JUST like black licorice.  Overall, a very successful absinthe experience, free of hallucinogens (we went to a "safe" absinthe bar, apparently) and green fairies :)  After we all finished, we bid adieu to lovely Nicolle, Siobhan and Julie, and headed home, only to get lost again.  Thanks to Charlie on that one as well for good navigation...he finally figured out where we were and got us home!  

Long story short: if you are going to drink absinthe, check your bar out first so that you don't get propositioned at the bar by French bikers.  And when six Notre Dame students walk into a goth-Satanist-Spanish fusion bar, hilarity is sure to ensue :)

my absinthe: it glowed in the dark when I took a photo!

Parliament, Plays, and Pub Quizzes!

A busy past few days have kept me from updating this...it's been constant go-go-go with a Macroeconomics test and then a lot of fun on the books for us crazy London kids!

On Tuesday afternoon, Charlie was kind enough to give Peter, Kate and me a private tour of PARLIAMENT.  Oh. My. God.  Absolutely staggering.  We got to go in the administrative building, Portcullis Place, for starters...once there, we went through airport-style security and got official lanyard-ID tag things, then Charlie hit the ground running giving us the tour.  He was full of facts and fun anecdotes...it was an awesome way to experience Parliament! We took an underground passage to enter the main Parliament building and emerged into the gated courtyard I always pass and wonder who gets to go in...answer?  WE do!

We headed into Westminster Hall, the oldest part of Parliament that had been saved from fires like four times or something ridiculous like that, the home of Henry VIII's court and the place where Charles I was tried before his execution.  I know this is going to sound weird, but it literally SMELLED historic.  Huge wood-beamed ceilings, floors that were worn from being walked on, stained-glass windows.  It absolutely reeked of history, which of course means I loved it.

From there we continued into the newer State departments and from then on out it was one big mindwarp for me...I kept thinking "Oh my god.  We're in Parliament.  Parliament!" and it really blew my mind.  We walked around and Charlie was able to tell us a lot about the history of the building, how Parliament functions today, and what was going on in the places we checked out.  Highlights:
-The Queen can't go into the House of Commons, EVER.  We did, though, and watched a debate on banning certain types of ammunition in active warfare.  Kind of dry, but really cool to see how Parliament functions on a day-to-day basis.
-The House Of Lords: Ridiculously sumptuous, beautiful room, with the golden ceremonial throne for the reigning monarch's opening of Parliament every year...it was built for Queen Victoria and is tiny and beautiful.  We watched more debating there, with a Baroness and a bishop discussing clean energy.
-We also explored the building a little bit, as Charlie's pass got us through places pretty easily.  It was such a rush to pass people in the halls and think that they were doing all this hard-core business...it made my head spin!

Our time at Parliament ended all too soon when I looked at the clock, realized how late it was, and remembered I had a play to get to...across the river...at 7:30.  I literally sprinted most of the way there, asked directions to the theater and got directed to the wrong one, and finally arrived at The Old Vic, the correct theater, only to find out that our seats had changed...I was so frazzled at this point that I just sort of went blindly where they directed us and finally arrived in our (very good) seats totally worn out and not at all in the right mindset to watch a play.

"Six Degrees of Separation," by John Guare, was a very random, very intriguing play based on the true story of a young con-man who swindled his way into the lives (and pockets) of rich New Yorkers in the early 90s.  The play was incredibly weird, unique and unlike anything I'd ever seen.  I still honestly don't know if I liked it or didn't...I enjoyed the experience of seeing it, but it sounds like I was in the minority as the rest of my classmates either hated it or were bored stiff.  Whatever...I guess I just have no discerning taste...but it was a fun night out no matter what.  After that, I went home and had a pretty late night studying, boo.

Wednesday was a very busy but quiet-ish day of class, class, and domesticity.  I cleaned.  I read a bunch of blogs I had to catch up on.  I emailed people.  I watched "Dancing With The Stars" online (my pick? Erin Andrews, although I loved Buzz Aldrin, he was adorable).  Early bed.

Thursday was a workday for me: I spent most of the morning doing filing and invoicing as it's quarter-end and Steph and Dale were swamped with work on that.  The afternoon saw me running GG's errands picking up and delivering "really vitally important documents" between the three Omnicom agencies on/near Marylebone...and then doing work on transfer-pricing analysis, Sabine's travel expense analysis, and the PSA.  The other interns and I went to the Golden Hind for fish'n'chips before pub quiz night and oh, my god, it was amazing as always.  Unfortunately we got absolutely drenched on the walk there, oh well!

Pub Quiz Night!  It was amazing.  Tom K, Tom P, Adam and Janet were the only ones in the office who came, but when we showed up it was even: four interns, four Brits.  We split up into Tom P and Janet's CFM team (Katie and Kaitlin) and the financial controllers (plus Kayla) team.  Our team name?  QuizzyModo, a clever play on the fact that we go to Notre Dame.  We all got pleasantly drunk in the best innocent, fun giggly way, and FINANCIAL CONTROLLERS beat the CFMs in a last-minute, one-point victory because we were able to identify blurry pictures of David Beckham versus Roger Federer.  So much fun...and I now have a really cool silver Stella Artois pen to commemorate our epic win.  After Pub Quiz, we went to a place on Baker Street for "a curry," which is what they call any kind of Indian food.  I had lamb bhoteko at Tom K's suggestion and it was sooooo good.  We all talked about movies we'd seen, our families, our friends, our lives in general...it was great, I had so much fun, and I feel so incredibly lucky to be interning at BBDO.  The people are really just fantastic.

I'm going to draft a Paris post and put it up in a few hours, although now that just feels like an empty promise since I never do...but right now I have a meeting for internship advising with our program director, Cornelius.  Cheers!

London Monday...

Here's a quick update on London life:
Yesterday: work at BBDO...Katie, Kaitlin, Kayla and I took the Tube in early in time for breakfast and had a great morning catch-up session on our weekends.  We had pranked Steph earlier last week by decorating his desk with a bunch of cutouts and pictures of his favorite football team's archrivals...it would have been the equivalent of covering an ND grad's workspace with USC gear.  Everybody in the office thought we were hilarious and to be honest, so did we.  He wasn't at all mad yesterday morning and actually left most of the "decorations" up...although he's now claiming that he's plotting to get us back, so we'll see how that works out...Also, Tom K, one of the men in my department, brought exciting news yesterday that his wife is expecting their first child!  He was adorably excited and it was SO much fun to congratulate him and watch him flash the sonogram pictures around, totally beaming with pride.

Then it was off to PWC, where we had a class on the global recession.  My team also had the chance to sit down with one of the company's IFRS transition specialists to discuss our final project, a comparison of the UK's IFRS implementation to the planned US convergence.  She had a lot of great information and gave us an awesome perspective on the project, which should be a great help.  I had a moderately uneventful night of trying to meet up with two piccolo alums who were in London, but due to crossed wires, mixed signals and our mutual failure to top up our phones, we weren't able to get together.  Sad day!  I went to the Exmouth Arms with most of my spring break group, and the bartender let me pull a pint of Guinness the real way.  It was super exciting!
How to Pull the Perfect Pint:
1. Putting the spigot of the tap against the glass, tilt glass to a 45-degree angle with the bar.
2. Fill about 3/4 of the way full...pull the tap down and just let it go!
3. Level the glass and let it fill almost all the way.
4. Once the glass is near-full, to eliminate excess "head" (foam on top of the beer, don't get dirty-minded!), submerge the spigot IN the head and tilt the glass.  The extra foam will just run off the top and make a mess on the bar (and your feet, if you're standing too close), but you will have the perfect pint...

I was so excited!  And it was really good, although according to the bartender, my pint had an unacceptable amount of foam.  Even so, I like it like that...Guinness foam is my favorite part of the beer, which I'm sure makes me a completely pathetic excuse for a Guinness-drinker.  Oh well!  (I kept the pint glass as a souvenir.)  IF anyone ever needs a pint, you know where to find me!  ;)

Today's been very quiet...library noon tea at the London Centre and now I'm getting work done in the library...but this afternoon we're going on a private tour of Parliament, courtesy of one-and-only Parliamentary intern Charles Landis, 1/5 of Team Hot Route!  I'm super excited, as we are a: getting to see Parliament and b: doing it for FREE.  YAY.  Then it's to the Old Vic Theatre for "Six Degrees of Separation," the first play we're seeing for my Intro To London Theatre class.  I'm excited!

Paris posts will continue probably tomorrow as I have a lot to get done in the next 24 hours...til then, CHEERS!

Skirting the Issue, and a very golden day!

Finally, another long-awaited Parisian post, but first, a note on London men.

They are creeps!! At least a lot of them are, or at the very least, a lot of them in our part of the town are.  Today was warm enough to go out in a skirt with bare legs (55-60 degrees during the day, sunny skies, GORGEOUS) so I did when I had to go get groceries.  Not only did I get honked at twice (in a totally respectable knee-length skirt with a cardigan), but a cab driver rolled down his window and asked if I wanted to take a ride with him later.  Ew, sketch.  Why does this bug me, after getting hit on multiple times in Paris?  I don't really know.  Mostly because it's so asinine, unnecessary and unflattering on both ends.  I guess I need to keep the tights on for the time being.  Sigh.  

Anyway, I digress.  We're up to Paris Day 3: Versailles!  

Team Hot Route (formerly known as Team Tuscalonis) departed for Versailles around 11:30 am after a leisurely and lovely morning in which the ladies took cold showers (Claire's building was having the heaters worked on, which we didn't learn until the day we departed) and Charlie made us breakfast and tea.  What a man, ladies, what a man.  The train to Versailles was fast, cheap and easy, much like its former residents...from what I knew and later learned on Wikipedia, it sounds like the Bourbons didn't worry about messing around at ALL.  We arrived on a beautiful sunny, if blustery-cold, day.  The castle is absolutely unlike Windsor in every way on the outside...palace describes it better than castle.  To me, a castle always implies moats and stone and dungeons and fortresses; a palace is somewhere with expansive gardens and excessive windows and ornamental fences, not defensive walls.  Versailles is the epitome of a palace.  Gold EVERYWHERE.  Windows EVERYWHERE.  Gardens EVERYWHERE.  I already knew I was going to like it a LOT.

Too bad the ticket-vendor had to sour me on the experience right away!  We had been informed by Peter that it was possible to get free admission to Versailles with our student visas; I asked accordingly when we were purchasing tickets.  Not only did the man we were buying from totally deny us, but he was a complete and utter asshole about it.  After I attempted to explain that our visas had been accepted at the Musée d'Orsay and the Louvre (a petite white lie), he gave me the snottiest, snootiest look ever and said, in the most patronizing tone I have EVER heard in my life: 

"Madame, this is not the Musée d'Orsay, this is not the Louvre.  THIS...is Versailles."

To hear him talk, you would think I had marched in there in a fannypack and cowboy hat and demanded rudely in English to have tea with Marie Antoinette herself.  I was speaking fluent French and made a perfectly reasonable request, to which he responded with utter rudeness and snobbishness.  It was my first experience with real French xenophobia and it completely put a damper on the rest of my day.  We instead paid the fee of 15 euro to enter, then ate our lunch in a café overlooking the gardens, which cheered me up a bit.  Nothing like Nutella and Bonne Maman jam on baguette to give you a little sugar rush and make your day brighter!

We finally entered the palace for real and picked up our handy dandy audio guides!  The palace itself was beautiful.  Fantastic parquet floors, marble, gold, and carving everywhere, and ceilings of every room gilded, painted and decorated to the nines.  The chapel was one of the most beautiful places I'd ever seen.  This was becoming a theme with my spring break...

After walking through a random photo retrospective on Versailles over the past 150 years (umm wtf?!) we finally reached the State Departments.  Much prettiness.  A lot of art.  A lot of gold.  A lot of really expensive decoration and furniture.  I was loving it, although I have to say the interior was almost a bit underwhelming compared to Windsor...and compared to the beautiful views of the palace gardens!  We finally reached the Hall of Mirrors and it was...well, everything I thought it would be...enormous, mirrored, absolutely majestic.  It was also, however, totally crowded with tourists.  I suppose that's how it would have been back in the day as well, only everybody would've been wearing awesome gowns and jewels.  Haha...that's how I always imagined it.  Silly me.  :)

I may or may not have taken a Myspace mirror pic in the Hall of Mirrors.  But I'm embarrassed about the fourteen-year-oldishness of that so it's not going on my nice blog.  :)  The State departments continued and Coleen and I saw Marie Antoinette's rooms, including the bed where she gave birth to her children in front of a bajillion-and-two members of the court:

We then headed outside to walk around and explore the beautiful grounds.  It was a fantastic sunny day and we had a really good time walking around and exploring!  The gardens weren't in bloom or anything but there were buds on all the trees and I bet the exterior is absolutely stunning in the summer.  

There are three other chateaux on the Versailles grounds...the Grand Trianon, the Petit Trianon and the Hameau of Marie Antoinette.  We walked out quite a ways to go visit those as well; I really wanted to see them as they were famous as being Marie Antoinette's favorite personal retreats from the busy and public life in the main palace.  Once we got to the Petit Trianon, however, we were dismayed to discover that each of the three attractions cost an additional fee!  At that point, everybody was so sour on the previous ticket-vendor's attitude that I didn't even bring up paying more to see the rest of the chateaux.  I guess it's just an incentive to go back someday when I have lots and lots of spare change...after all, who wants to do and see everything?  Then there's nothing left to live for!  It's just like with Cinque Terre...since we didn't make it to Monterossa, the fifth town, I have a reason to go back.  Now I have one for Versailles as well!  :)

After some more wandering around the garden, and some awesome/moderately embarrassing Team Hot Route photos in front of the Grand Trianon (it's PINK! I was in heaven!), our group walked back to the main palace to catch the train back to our Parisian home for the week.  We ate our dinner and met up with Nicolle, Siobhan and Julie later...but that's a different story for a different post, as it's getting late here.  Bonsoir, chéries!!  Bisous!  (Goodnight and kisses, dear friends!)

a delightful day in Londontown

Hi all...more Paris to follow but I've got a life going on regardless of how up-to-date my spring break posts are, and yesterday is definitely post-worthy!

Coleen, Charlie, Kate and I set off around 11:30 to go visit Notting Hill, setting of the Julia Roberts movie of the same name but, more importantly, home of the "world-famous" Portobello Road Market!  It claims to be the largest antiques market in the world, and after yesterday, I believe it.  We got off the Tube and were immediately swept into an unbelievably large and diverse throng of people headed the same direction...young, hipster London girls with the kind of style I always wish I had, old men and women out together, young families with children in tow...it was just this enormous crush of humanity.  Claustrophobic, yes, but really fun to see.  The people-watching alone would have made this market day an experience to remember.

As you may recall, I was not particularly enamored with my first market visit, to Petticoat Lane...junky, weird people, and all-around dissatisfying.  That said, Portobello Road was fantastic!  We started off walking down a row of pastel-painted houses with colorful doors that reminded me of Cinque Terre (ahhh I want to go back!!).  At the beginning of the market, Coleen, Kate and I were drawn into a little vintage jewelry stand where everything was 5 pounds.   I was looking at an opal ring and Kate was considering the brooches when the saleswoman freaked out on Charlie and told him to "go and find another playground."  She repeatedly insisted that he leave, and as his loyal women, we of course left with him.  Nobody yells at our man like that and gets our business ;)

After that the market was just one REALLY REALLY long street full of wonderful surprises.  Portobello Road doesn't sell only antiques...there are long stretches devoted to jewelry artists, art, clothing, fresh food, food vendors, toys...just everything you could imagine.  It was super fun.  We poked around an antique maps-and-prints shop for a while, looked at tons of jewelry, and had a great time.  After a lunch stop at an Italian pizzeria that served pizza by the meter (yes, for real, by the METER), we paid a visit to The Travel Bookshop, of "Notting Hill" (the movie) fame.  So cute and charming, although I must say my favorite bookstore in the world is still Shakespeare and Company :)

Purchases for the day: Coleen got an antique bracelet that was absolutely beautiful and I got a pendant-watch, which was just too novel and pretty to pass up.  We then caught the Tube and headed home, where I stopped in Tesco and ran into the one-and-only Kayla Coggins and Anne Spont!  They were planning a baking night and I jumped right on that.  It was so much fun!  We made chocolate and vanilla cupcakes with homemade buttercream frosting.  Oh, hello, decadence.  Best part?  We dyed the frosting pink and decorated with absolutely adorable novelty sprinkles, sugar flowers, and glittery dust.  It was so pretty when we were done that I hardly wanted to eat them!  (We did, though.)  Big shout-out to Bobby, who knows all the words to an enormous plethora of songs as well as the integral plot points of "Rent."  Nobody puts Bobby in the corner.

After a fun night of baking to the sweet sounds of middle-school power jams, I headed home to call it another early night.  I'm always so tired at night here...maybe that's why the nasty hard bed doesn't feel quite as awful anymore.  Paris soon, I promise...but London is still too fun to ignore!

who loves you, pretty baby?

Tonight was a spectacular success of an evening to cap off a very theater-y day.  We started our second seminars for Images today, and mine is Intro To London Theatre...along with six or seven of my closest friends in the program and various others.  The professor is a real character who has acted and directed in London for what sounds like ages...part of the first day was having us all go around and explain our experience with theater-going, and when I mentioned seeing Shakespeare plays in Minnesota he immediately recognized that I was referencing the Guthrie!  We got off on a bit of a tangent in the middle of class about Minnesota theaters, and it was so much fun to meet and talk to somebody who knew the significance of the Guthrie, Ordway, Pantages, Orpheum, etc.  :)

Anyway, on our break in that class, Coleen and I decided that we really wanted to go see a play this weekend, and being the spontaneous, lovely girls that we are, decided that we should go tonight.  All that remained was to pick a play...from candidates like "War Horse," "Billy Elliot," "The Little Dog Laughed," and "Love Never Dies," the new Andrew Lloyd Webber sequel to "Phantom of the Opera," we decided on "Jersey Boys."  I was so excited...I've had a bit of a love affair with the Four Seasons since we played them freshman year in a halftime show.

After London Theatre ended, I went to my favorite Caffé Nero at the bottom of Trafalgar Square and read three or four chapters of the text for that class (yes, I am aware that this makes me an irrefutable nerd).  The book focuses on the evolution of all arts in England from the Dark Ages on...I started with the first assigned chapter on Elizabethan English theatre and read straight through to the architectural revolution under Willam and Mary.  Wow, I am a geek.  Moving on...

Coleen and I got all dolled up and walked down to the Prince Edward Theater on Shaftesbury in time for student rush tickets at 6:30.  After a bit of confusion in which the ticket vendor thought we wanted full-price tickets, we were offered "grand box seats" for the low, low price of 20 pounds.  Needless to say, we jumped at the opportunity...HOORAY for awesome seats at a cheap price!  We headed out to find a pub for the requisite pre-theater drinks, and were offered 50% discounts as a promotion if we went to this new place called Club 49.  Half-off is too good to pass up, so we went there, and I had two great mojitos (mine and most of Coleen's, she wasn't a fan) before we headed back to the theater.

Our seats were great, the show was better.  Super dynamic, jam-packed with the kind of hits that make you want to dance in your seat (I did the entire show, haha), and amazing acting throughout.  I loved every minute of it...there were points where I was literally leaning out of the box over the railing, I was so enthralled.  The second act was utterly fantastic, all the huge hits, a super-cool and innovative final scene, and a curtain call that exploded into a reprise of "December 1963," my FAVORITE Four Seasons song :)  Needless to say, we both left the theater super happy and sang and danced the whole way home!

Anyway, enough for now.  I'm exhausted and still trying to catch up on sleep after an unexpectedly hectic week, so I'm going to turn in.  More on Paris to come tomorrow.  Good night!!

bonjour paris, ça va?

Our first full day in Paris, Wednesday the 10th, started as we ate a spare and nasty breakfast in our hostel, then went to meet Peter at the République Métro stop to go drop our things at Claire’s apartment.  Her place is adorable!  Small, perfectly clean and decorated very eclectically, just as I always thought a French girl’s house would be done.  It was beautiful outside!  Very sunny and pretty.  We took the Métro to the Musée d’Orsay as soon as we had all dropped our things off, looked around and geared up to head out.  The Musée d’Orsay used to be a train station, and was almost demolished to make way for new construction, but thankfully was converted to a museum instead…it’s absolutely beautiful!  The focus of the museum is mainly on Impressionist art.  I was in heaven…Impressionism is my favorite! 

We saw works by Renoir, Monet, Manet, Degas (I love his ballerinas!), Sisley, Van Gogh, Gauguin, and so many others I can’t even remember all of them.  I was in absolute heaven wandering around by myself…we all split up to do the museum right and just enjoy it on our own, at our own pace.  One of the best parts for me was talking to one of the museum's head curators, in French, for about half an hour about how the d'Orsay was renovating gradually in hopes of being able to attract donations from private art collectors and add to their Impressionist collection.  I felt like such a bad-ass, using my French and actually having an intelligent, cultured conversation...aaah!!  :D

It was really cool especially to see some overlap between the Van Gogh museum, which I visited in Amsterdam, and the Musée d’Orsay.  There were more paintings by the Barbizon School, a French pre-impressionist movement that majorly influenced Van Gogh and focused on painting nature and capturing light.  There was also another big feature on Van Gogh…I feel like everything these days is focused on him, with the museum in Amsterdam, the big exhibit at the d’Orsay, and now the huge exhibition in London at the Royal Academy of the Arts, which I still have to get to. 

The sculpture at the Musée d’Orsay was remarkable as well!  It took up the entire main part of the gallery, which used to be the central part of the train station and was consequently enormous, sun-drenched and beautifully open.  I love sculpture, but to be honest, everything sort of paled in comparison to the amazingness of The David in Florence.  Still, it was so beautiful and I loved it. 

After the d’Orsay, we headed back to Claire’s to bid Peter farewell, as he was heading to Perpignan, her hometown, to spend the rest of the break with her.  We got some baguette, sausage, cheese and jam on the way to make our usual lunches of sandwiches (nowhere NEAR as good as the coppa and pecorino in Lucca, but still), and all too soon it was time for him to go…it was so sad to break up Team Hot Route!  We spent the rest of the afternoon settling into Claire’s and catching up on some much-needed rest, relaxation and correspondence with families. 

Later that afternoon Nicolle texted us to see if we wanted to meet up for dinner, so we offered to cook.  After meeting their group at Goncourt, the Métro stop closest to Claire’s, we cooked a dinner of spaghetti Bolognese, salad, toasted bread with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and a cheese platter for appetizer/dessert.  Not to mention several bottles of amazing red, white, and rosé wine…yum!  We went to bed really early after they headed out for the night, totally exhausted and looking forward to our planned trip to Versailles the next day! 

kiss me, i'm Irish :)

St. Patrick's Day in London merits an interlude between Paris posts, so I figured I'd update quickly.
1. Londoners don't wear green on St. Patrick's Day.
2. Every single person in the ND London Program does.
3. Irish car bombs are not called Irish car bombs in London.  I don't know what they're called so I'm scared to order one.
4. Irish coffee > normal coffee
5. Our Philosophy class likes their liquor early.  Our Philosophy professor doesn't like that they do.

More interludes to come later...

it's a small world after all :)

Hello...so, as you can see, that was the last blog post I actually drafted out while we were spring-breaking, as Paris required so much of my rapture, devotion and attention that by the end of every day I was in such a euphoric state of exhaustion that I simply collapsed into bed grinning from ear to ear.

I am in LOVE with Paris.  The city...aaah.  It wasn't everything I dreamed it would be...it was better, it was worse, it was different, it was how I imagined it...the city defies imagination just as much as it inspires it.  I kept feeling like everything was surreal and I seriously couldn't believe I was there for most of the six days we had there.

When we arrived at Gare Lyon, we went to the Ministry of Economics and Finance to meet our lovely hostess for the week, miss Claire Botella.  She was kind enough to lend us her beautiful little apartment in the tenth arrondissement (neighborhood) for the week!  After we got her keys, we went to drop our things at the hostel we were staying at for one night (while she was still in Paris and needed her apartment).  The hostel was way the heck out in the middle of the 18th, and was a total shithole, but we literally changed clothes and headed straight for the #1 Parisian icon tourist destination...the Eiffel Tower!

We took a Paris Métro to get there and my first official sight of the tower was as the train exploded out of the underground to street level, with the tower directly outside the window.  I seriously teared up and almost died right then and there of satisfaction.  We got there around 4:00, just in time to climb it for sunset.  That's right...CLIMB it.  We CLIMBED the Eiffel Tower.  Let me tell you, that is one hell of a natural Stairmaster...my legs were killing me for the next 48 hours!

This is where the "it's a small world after all" part comes into play: As our group reached the top of the second level, out of the souvenir shop popped my one-and-only flatmate Nicolle and the rest of her spring break group!  I stopped dead in my tracks and immediately shouted "NICOLLE" right in her face.  She turned, did a HUGE classic double-take, and shouted right back in my face, "LIZZIE!"  Then we ALL started jumping around and shrieking and laughing about how small the world really is when you're tourists in Paris.  We were super super super excited about it, as we weren't supposed to overlap our time in Paris by much at all...I guess the whole Montpellier debacle was a little God moment helping us get to that awesome encounter on La Tour Eiffel :)

Anyway, we watched the sunset on the tower, took a million gazillion pictures (literally, I promise you), and were getting ready to head down when all of a sudden the lights show started.  I was breathless the entire five minutes, just completely in awe of where I was and what I was doing and how so many dreams had all culminated in just one day.  We descended and I literally felt like my insides were having their own little light show, I was so happy!

Peter led all of us to an amazing restaurant he had eaten at on his first trip to Paris, called Le Royal.  For 12 euro we got an appetizer, entrée, dessert, and three glasses of wine apiece...I had a chevre crépe with salad for my appetizer, choux (spinach, cheese and meat made into a sort of layered soufflé type thing) with rice and tomato remoulade for my main, and a to-DIE-for pear tart for dessert.  Not to mention I had an amazing time conversing with the proprietor, waiter and bartender, all of whom thought my French was great and had many helpful tips and suggestions about what we needed to see and do in Paris!

Exhausted, we headed back to our hostel for a night of sketchy sleep...I covered my pillowcase with my towel and made sure every inch of my skin was out-of-contact with the questionable sheets...but it was so much more than worth the ickiness to dream about the fact that I was in the City of Light and my adventures had just begun!!

That's enough for now, and Paris is too amazing to be wrapped into one post...expect more soon :)

Observations de train…

Originally written on 3/9, en route to Paris…it was a 4 hour train ride.  Cut me some slack, I needed something to do!  : )

10:37: Leaving Gare St. Roch, Montpellier.  Sigh of relief, prayer of thanksgiving.

10:53: Lots of vineyards.  And snow.  And you can tell that they are not super-used to snow here. 

11:09: The other four are passed out dead asleep.  We’re stopped at Nimes, another South-of-France small town.  French women are irrepressibly chic.  Makes me wish I could rock short hair. 

11:34: Countryside.  This train has a bar, apparently…I’m tempted to go find it.  The guy sitting diagonal from me has the most Gerard Depardieu-esque nose I’ve ever seen, and it’s making me happy.  Lots of hills…contemplating falling asleep, but I’m afraid I’ll miss announcements or something.  Hmmm….

12:09: Kate and I just ate an entire tube of Pringles.  With minor assistance from Charlie and Coleen.  Très gourmands. 

12:42: Taking advantage of our train captivity to clean out and organize the 10,000 photos in my iPhoto library.  We just passed a ruined castle, and some grazing sheep and cattle.  Very provincial France.  I feel like I should be listening to “Beauty and the Beast” right now…

1:41: The bathrooms are smaller than airplane bathrooms, the French countryside we’re riding through right now looks like Nebraska, and my iPhoto library has been so far condensed to 9275 photos.  Productive trip…

2:04: They just announced Gare Lyon, Paris.  My heart is absolutely palpitating right now.  AAAAAAH PARIS!!!!  I'm finally here!!  Updates soon!

22 hours in the sphincter of France.

-originally written on March 9, 2010

WELL. We’re not in Barcelona.  In fact, we’re not in Spain at all.  We are currently in Montpellier, France, which is the knife-crime capital of France, and known for its hate crimes and anti-racial/foreign sentiments.  Great, huh?  You may be wondering…just how the hell did we end up here, of all places?

Yesterday we got to Pisa so early and thought we were really okay with everything…takeoff went flawlessly, life was good, and we thought we were doing well.  Until the pilot came on the intercom to explain that there was such heavy snow in Barcelona that we would have to circle for a while.  Then we were told we would have to go refuel in Montpellier before returning to Barcelona.  Then we were told we were de-planing in Montpellier to be bussed to Barcelona.  Before we knew it, we were in a random provincial airport in a fricking French resort town with no Ryanair liaison, no information about how we were supposedly going to catch this “bus” to Barcelona, and no idea what the hell was going on.  The Ryanair flight we were on had literally refueled and turned around and left us alone in Montpellier with absolutely no recourse...no information, definitely no “bus” to Barcelona, and no idea what to do next.  I have never been more thankful that I chose to study French in my life. 

We got croques-monsieur for lunch and jumped into action…rallied up with the rest of the people who Ryanair had abandoned, got a tram to the center of Montpellier, and started trying to figure out what the heck to do.  Thank God for McDonalds.  I know I couldn’t possibly sound more American or gauche but we have been to the McDonalds in Montpellier no less than SIX times in the past 22 hours…free WiFi, cheap food, and relative safety…you KNOW the city you’re in is sketchy as hell when the place you feel safest is the McDonalds. 

We met up with three other American girls who were in our same boat…two of them, both Laurens, needed to get to Malaga for their spring break and there was also a Beth trying to return to Salamanca.  We all got to a hotel where we were able to get two pretty-nice suites and talk to the concierge, who I literally adore.  He was SO helpful and made me feel better right from the start. 

A large group of moderately crazy Italians who were also on our flight were convinced we needed to start immediate legal action against Ryanair and so we got sort of dragged into that by merit of the fact that I was the only one of the group of (now about) 20 who could speak French.  I talked to Ryanair’s “service hotline” (what an oxymoron!), got yelled at by the personnel at Montpellier Aeroport, who had already filed a formal complaint against Ryanair for shafting them off with 100 tourists and no aid, and attempted to try to diffuse all the information I was getting through the group.  Turned out that Ryanair had officially stated that we had landed safely in Reus, one of their Barcelona airports, and were being bussed to Girona, our original destination.  F-ing liars.  Gaaaah I HATE RYANAIR. 

Anyway, we spent the night in the sphincter of France.  Montpellier is apparently so dangerous for women/Americans that the US government advises that they not go out at night, never travel in small groups, stay only on populated, public, well-lit streets…in short, do everything we couldn’t do.  If ANYBODY is planning a trip to southern France, don’t go to Montpellier.  It is sketchy as all get-out. 

After a very intense night of trying to figure out what the heck was going to happen, Peter, Charlie, Coleen, Kate and I pushed all our beds into one big long bed, had a pillow fight/snugglefest/planning session, and ended up having a slumber party for safety in our hotel.  We were up again at 6am, at the train station by 6:45, and informed that there was still no way to get to Barcelona at all by about 7:00.  We immediately decided to just cancel our Spanish leg of the trip…too much hassle, and to be honest, we all just wanted to get the hell out of Montpellier as soon as was humanly possible.  We booked TGV (bullet-train) tickets to Paris, and I’m currently sitting on the train at the station waiting for it to depart. 

Part of me is very, very selfishly excited that we are getting two extra days in Paris…but I do feel really bad that we’re missing out on Barcelona.  I was so excited to see the Gaudi architecture, Sagrada Familia, etc…but c’est la vie.  I think we’re going to try to plan a trip to Normandy for tomorrow if it’s easy/cheap/not too far…we’ll see. 

The best part of being in France?  Using my French.  I am apparently a much better French speaker than I gave myself credit for being.  The concierge said my French was “impeccable,” the staff at McDonalds were impressed with the speed and fluency with which I could communicate, and this morning a random older woman in a café said I had “la plus belle accent d’une Americaine qu’elle a jamais entendu…” the most beautiful accent she had ever heard from an American.  I’m very content with my skills/abilities and I can’t wait to see what six more days of French speaking will do for me/my comprehension/my speaking ability. 

Aaaah.  The adventures continue…more updates as soon as I can get them!  In the meantime, à plus tard!!

David, Duomos and Domers

Originally written on Mar 7 2010

I’m sitting in the Pisa airport right now absolutely relishing the fact that we are an hour and a half early for our flight.  Even though we got a little lost on the drive back to the airport, we still arrived with plenty of time to ‘prendo una macchiato,’ walk through duty-free shops (my favorite) and catch a quick cat nap at the gate.  Mmm, what a contrast to our frantic sprint through Stansted only last Thursday!

Tuscany has absolutely flown by…I can’t believe that in only an hour we’ll be on a flight to Barcelona, the next leg of our adventure!  Saturday night the boys cooked us some delicious spaghetti carbonara while they let the ladies shower…what keepers.  Dinner was heavenly (duh) and after we finished up Enrica’s daughter Claudia and her boyfriend Lucca came over for some vino and conversation!  About five to seven years older than us, they spoke English about as well as we spoke Italian, so there was a lot of hybrid mixing of the languages, asking Peter and Lucca to translate words as we scribbled all over sheets of paper and napkins.  Lots of laughter and two bottles of Lucchesi (Lucca region) wine later, we had two wonderful new Italian friends! 

Yesterday we got up really early, about 7:15, to get ready to go to Florence for the day.  Peter drove us in our lovely Fiat, which we have named Figaro or “Figgy” for short, to Lucca; we caught a 1.5 hour train to Firenze that dropped us right in the heart of the city.  Being the good Catholic schoolchildren we are, Mass was first on our order of priorities, and churches are one thing Firenze is not short on!  We went to 10:30 Mass at the stunning-beautiful-breathtaking-indescribable Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, colloquially known as Il Duomo.  From the outside it’s like spumoni, all green, red and white marble with statues and intricate carving, so I was surprised by the relative austerity and simplicity of the interior…

…until we got under the famous Duomo, constructed by Brunelleschi.  Suffice it to say I was breathless for all of Mass and left the Duomo with a crick in my neck that lasted for hours.

Lunch was next on our agenda and we absolutely dominated some amazing Italian pizza…I had “salsicci e carducci,” or sausage-and-onion.  Delicious...

Yesterday was the Italian Festival of Women so Coleen, Kate and I got free admission to L’Accademia de Bell’Arti, which is home to Michelangelo’s famous statue of David.  We saw some beautiful Renaissance-era religious iconography and then turned into a long hall filled with unfinished Michelangelo sculptures…it was insane to see his works-in-progress and realize just what it takes to create a sculpture of that magnitude.  Best of all was the sight of The David at the end of the hallway in the center of a light-filled atrium.  Words can’t describe.  The veins in his hand, the knuckles on his toes and fingers, the hollows of his neck and planes of his musculature…it is the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen in my life.  I’m pretty sure we spent about twenty minutes just looking, and I came back twice more in the course of our time at the museum.  It’s easily the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. 

After L’accademia, we shopped the famous Florentine market scene and, between the five of us, left with: a Venetian carnival mask (Kate), an Italian silk tie (Charlie), two Italian soccer scarves (Peter), a watercolor print of the Florentine cityscape (me) and major postcard-age (Coleen).  We strolled down to the Ponte Vecchio in the sunshine, shopping a bit along the way at the artisan craftsmen’s shops.  Ponte Vecchio was beautiful but everything was WAY out of our price range…still, fun to look. 

By this time, we were all pretty tired and getting crabby, but I was determined to get to the top of the Piazzale di Michelangelo to see the view of the Florentine skyline that everybody I’ve talked to has raved about.  Sadly, the rest of my group wasn’t too crazy about the idea of walking a mile to climb a huge hill and freeze our butts off looking at a view…but I’m thankful to say they humored me, albeit crankily, and we headed out to la Piazzale.  It was a miserable climb…cold but hot, uneven stairs, etc, but the views along the way and the gelato we bought at the top more than made up for it.  And then there was the benefit of the view…

After enjoying the gelato and view (and meeting some Notre Dame connections through a SMC transfer student!), we headed back down the Piazzale and walked back to the train station.  Tired, cold and ready for a break, we settled in for the two-hour train ride home and completely passed out…then drove around for a while looking for a restaurant until we stumbled upon Il Gattino Bianca, or “The Little White Cat,” where we enjoyed a completely authentic, traditional three-course Italian meal.  Oh, Dio mio, words can’t describe, which is the theme of this trip…it was delicious.  Highlights were Charlie eating boar meat, Peter’s filleta with truffle oil, and the amazing stuffed calamari Kate and I had…not to mention the to-die-for tiramisu we shared for dessert! 

Then it was laundry time, where the misadventures of Team Tuscalonis (our team name, so bad-ass, right?!) to continue…the washing machine was broken and spewed water all over the bathroom, so Kate, Coleen and I did the laundry by hand.  I have such a deeper appreciation for the travails of pioneers. J  After some chianti and conversation, we collapsed into bed before getting up at 5:30am to say “Arrivederci” to Tuscany!

More updates to come from Barcelona!

Cinque Terre is proof that God exists.

Written Mar 6, 2010

I know for a fact that it is not possible to describe my day to you, or to make its sheer perfection make sense using words.  This kind of feeling, bone-deep contentment that just gets ahold of your soul and makes your whole body radiate, can’t be captured in words.  Here goes my paltry attempt.

FIRST, a huge shout-out and thank you to Peter Balestracci for being the catalyst behind this Tuscan paradise of a break.  Not only does he speak very good Italian, but he drives like he was born behind a steering wheel, even in the scariest and narrowest of Tuscan roads.  He knows his Italian food and wine better than I know my alphabet.  He got us our Lucca home for the weekend.  Best of all, he comes up with adventures I would never have dreamed up…case in point: today.

We left La Casa Di Iva by about 10:45 and drove through hands-down THE most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen.  Peter’s ancestors came from La Spezia, Italy, which is now the naval center of the country and sits on the coast of the Mediterranean.  We wound our way up switchbacks and through the mountains to reach Cinque Terre, the most beautiful place in the world.  Cinque Terre literally means “five lands,” a reference to the five cities that dot the coastline like pastel jewels.  For us, our day started in Rio Maggiore where we left the car (which we named Figaro) for the day.  We purchased our trail-and-rail passes and started off on La Via Dell’Amore, or “Lover’s Walk.”…

The boys had purchased some foccacia bread, coppa salami and pecorino cheese so we had a picnic…after climbing down the cliff via some rickety wooden stairs and setting up on a massive boulder in the Mediterranean Sea…shoes and socks came off right away and we climbed down the side of the boulder to dip our feet in….

Then it was back up the trail and walking to the second city, Manarola, my favorite.  We spent very little time there because the view of the town from outside it was just so much prettier…

After Manarola we walked a more challenging trail to the third city, Corniglia.  After the actual trail ended we climbed a series of switchbacks through vineyards and lemon groves to reach the summit of Corniglia, where we drank a bottle of red wine bottled at a vineyard owned by the restaurant we were visiting, admiring the phenomenal view…

From Corniglia we had to take the train to the fourth town, Vernazza, as the trails weren’t open this early in the season.  We got gelato at a specialty shop and had the gelaterro’s two specialty flavors in a homemade cone: crema de Cinque Terre, which was pistachio with hazelnut and chocolate, and crema di Vernazza, lemon gelato with strawberry.  While we ate we walked along the jetty, saw some jellyfish, or “di meduzzi,” and climbed the enormous boulders lining the breaker…

All too soon it was time for us to leave beautiful Cinque Terre, and I know that I left an enormous piece of my heart there…I can’t wait to go back and reclaim it someday.  Amo, amo, amo Italia!  This country has gotten into me and wrapped itself around my heart.  It makes me happy to be Italian, even a little bit…just so I can claim a little bit of this beautiful, beautiful place for my own. 

si bella. <3

I guess this is what falling in love feels like.

--originally written on March 6 2010

I am in love with Tuscany.  I never want to leave this place.  It’s so unbelievably beautiful that words can’t describe it and cameras can’t capture it…but being the determined writer/photographer I am, I’ve kept trying to capture it…

We woke up in Pisa early yesterday morning and left our gorgeous bed and breakfast to go take the obligatory tourist pictures by the Leaning Tower…

Once we had done that to our satisfaction we headed back to the airport to get transport to Lucca.  The drive from Pisa to Lucca is super confusing…lots of narrow Italian roads with very little or very unclear signage…but we made it to our tiny town of Massa di Machinaia in just under an hour.  The drive was breathtaking…Lucca is nestled in the foothills of the Italian Alps and along the way we could see the snow-cappped peaks in the distance as we drove through them.  We passed ancient Roman acqueducts, olive gardens (not cheap Americanized Italian restaurants, the real thing), and villas perched so precariously on the edges of cliffs and peaks of hills that they looked like they were all going to fall off.  Churches stood on the corner of every small town street we drove past, and from the switchbacks on the mountain we had to drive through, we could see all of Pisa stretched at the foot, the Leaning Tower sort of tipsily sticking out.  What a drive!  We were in a state of constant awe at its beauty.

At La Casa Di Iva, the house’s caretaker, Enrica, met us and gave us the keys and the grand tour.  The house itself is the most picturesque, crumbly, rustically gorgeous place in the entire world…plunked down on the side of a foothill surrounded by grape arbors, wildflowers and cypress trees, and with the most fantastic views of the Alps.  The one drawback to our abode is that it is FREEZING!  It’s meant to be a summer vacation spot and the heating system hasn’t been updated since around World War II (just guessing)…so we are spending all our time in the house huddled around the radiators or snuggled under blankets.  Still…it’s absolutely fantastic for a home base. 

Our first concern was lunch…thankfully there’s a deli-market right down the road from us, so we walked there and Peter, our Italian-speaking GOD and savior for this leg of the trip, ordered us panini with coppa salami and pecorino cheese that the man makes himself (the salami AND the cheese).  Best. Lunch. Ever.  Every bite was divine.  Ahhhh.  Then Enrica came and took us to see her family’s apiary (bee-keeping farm) and honey factory…that’s her real job.  The bees were all sleeping because it was cold, but we so enjoyed seeing the honey making stuff…and even moreso, getting to taste-test all the different kinds they make!  There were honeys made from acacia (very sweet and light), “millefiori,” or “a thousand flowers,” which tasted the most like honey as we think of it, and “melata,” or chestnut…very rich, dark and almost bitter.  Mmmm.  We all bought small jars to bring with us…they will fit in the airplane’s 100ml rule, yay!

After a completely cut-throat game of Scrabble (which I dominated, as per usual), we headed into Lucca to explore for the afternoon.  After some adventures with a car in narrow, narrow streets of the actual town, we found a garage and parked it, then started to wander.  Lucca is everything I thought a Tuscan town would be…twisty, turny cobbled streets, picturesque, pastel-stuccoed houses, small markets and shops everywhere, fountains and churches throughout.  So beautiful.  We had probably the best afternoon of my life wandering around.  We found a glass-making shop where the family makes all their own Murano-style glass, and we three girls bought tiny, intricate charms to put on necklaces or bracelets.  We found artisan meats and cheeses in delis that we bought to go with our honey for dessert that night (cheese and honey is a Tuscan favorite, apparently), and got giant bottles of Chianti.  We visited a few different gelaterias (not pronounced like “cafeteria”) and tried tiramisu, Nutella, “fragola,” or strawberry, black-cherry amaretto, and sugar-cookie gelatos among us.  We walked along the Renaissance-era stone-and-earth walls that surround the entire city.  We had, in short, the most beautiful and relaxed and generally perfect afternoon of my life. 

Last night we feasted like kings, too!  The very low price of about 30 euro got us fresh-made spinach-and-ricotta ravioli, homemade pesto, insalata with oil and vinegar, bread with honey, cheese and olive oil, and what felt like endless amounts of chianti and local Italian wine.  We ate, drank, and made merry from 6pm when we got home from Lucca until about 10pm, when we were all so tired and content that we decided to go to bed.  Even though it was freezing, I slept like a baby in several sweaters/sweatshirts and three blankets…softest pillow in the world. 

This morning has been slow and lazy…lots of coffee and snuggling up talking about how much we love this place…although we’re off in about 15 minutes to drive to Cinque Terre, supposedly one of the most beautiful places in the world.  Gotta go get ready!  Buona sera, mis amicis!  

Cabventures, or The Spring Break That Almost Wasn’t

--originally written on March 4, 2010

What a way to start off the break!  Peter, Kate, Charlie and I WERE planning to meet at the courtyard of K-M at 1:30 to go to the Victoria Coach station and catch our bus to Stansted.  What a flawed, horrible planning job we did, even with my brilliant 7-page itinerary!  Kate was running late, Peter and I had to top up our mobiles, and Charlie had to go back to Parliament.  Pete, Kate and I decided to meet them there…Turns out we were misinformed and, in reality:

A: the bus to Stansted took 2 hours instead of 45 minutes

B: the bus to Victoria Station from K-M took an hour

C: We had completely not left enough time to get to Stansted (an hour drive away) in time for our 5:00 flight.

Cue meltdown. 

We ran out of the coach station, sprinted up to the first cab we found, and started shouting in utter gibberish that we needed to get to Stansted as fast as we humanly possibly could.  The cab driver, who I think should be nominated to sainthood, gave us a discounted rate and absolutely HAULED ASS there…Kate looked at his speedometer at one point and he was going 80 miles per hour down the crazy, narrow English roads.  We were absolutely panic-stricken and at one point all held hands and said some very unorthodox prayers to Jesus (involving wishing diarrhea on our pilot to delay the flight, praying that we all arrived, and offering to toast to Jesus with chianti if we made it to Pisa).  We got to the airport at 4:30 and immediately sprinted to check-in, where we were [thankfully] rushed through…sprinted to security, where ten people were generous enough to let us cut them in line (this might have been because I was literally on the verge of tears!), and sprinted through the airport to our gate…ALL IN UNDER SEVEN MINUTES.  That’s 7.  Not 8, 7.  So proud of us. 

Charlie and Coleen, in the meantime, were doing the orthodox route on the bus after their own set of miscommunications…they had caught it at 2:45 and were therefore running even later than we were, due to the slowness of the bus.  (At one point, when we found out that we had caught up to them, Kate and I decided that “This is a race now.  It’s ON.” and were total champs.)  We were at the gate waiting and waiting for them, and had to get on the flight before we saw them get into the gate.  Needless to say, I was utterly panicking thinking that half our group was going to miss the flight…we sat in our seats watching everybody board the flight, waiting and waiting…and finally, the LAST two people on the flight were Charles and Coleen.  Thank GOD!  We may or may not have said a prayer of thanksgiving…

After the eventful lead-up to the flight, I passed out from sheer exhaustion and slept most of the way to Pisa listening to some Ferris and Cedar Avenue (local MN bands I love).  We landed, and got off the flight, and I LOST MY YELLOW UMBRELLA.  I am, needless to say, devastated…and am going to go back to the EasyJet terminal tomorrow when we go back to the airport to see if they found it or something…cross your fingers for me.  We took the bus to central Pisa and walked to our hostel, which is literally about 50 yards from the Leaning Tower Of.  We took some touristy night pictures and headed into the beautiful old villa that is our hostel…it’s called Rélais Under The Tower Hostel and is more like a very ritzy, beautiful old palazzo.  There are only eight people staying in our part of the hostel…three Australians and the five of us…and we have a gorgeous room with huge windows, a heavy wood-beamed ceiling, and the cushiest beds I’ve slept on this semester.  Ahhhh, all the comforts of a home away from home. 

We headed out to do some exploring and had some lamb-and-chicken paninis for 3 euro…so good!  Then we walked along the river (I don’t know what river it is…) and hit a few bars to explore the night life.  Robbie, the young Australian staying in our hostel, joined us and we had a very fun, chill night.  Now we’re all tucked in ready for early bedtime so we can get an early start tomorrow…headed to Lucca and our villa, La Casa Di Iva!!  :D  I love Italy.  I’ve only seen it in the dark so far, but it is unbelievably picturesque, scenic, beautiful, old, breathtaking…I can’t even think of adjectives that can describe its amazingness.  

Buona sera, buona sera…Ti amo!

Phil and Lizzie's Excellent Adventures

Phil Black, one of my best friends from school, is in London visiting from Austria for the week, and I spent yesterday hanging out with him!  It's been a very fun 24-36 hours...

He and his travel companion Jon arrived at Farringdon Station around 8pm on Tuesday night and I whisked them back to K-M for a dinner of walnut-gorgonzola tortellini with pesto, garlic bread, salad and strawberry cheesecake for dessert.  Gotta love cooking on a Tesco budget...it sounds fancy but cost less than 15 quid for the entire meal.  :D We finished up, hung out in my flat for awhile, then decided to head over to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese to introduce Phil to a real English pub.  After a half-pint each for the low, low price of 95 pence, we went on our merry way and Phil and Jon returned to their hostel on Russell Square for the night.

Wednesday I started the morning off with class and met the boys at 2:15 for a late lunch in the basement of the London Centre.  We then went on an adventure to all Central London's great tourist hotspots...after I purchased a new pair of black flats for only 7pounds at Chockers (I had walked holes into the soles of my old pair!), we goofed around and took lion-riding pictures at Trafalgar Square, then walked down The Mall to Buckingham Palace.  After a few jokes about going to go visit the other Lizzie and Phil (that would be the Queen and Prince Philip, duh), we talked to a lovely old man outside the gates who was a Royalist through and through...he LOVED the Queen.  A lot.  Then we were lucky enough to see the South African president's motorcade heading past Buckingham!  He's in visiting for the week, much like Phil, although probably to do more important things than take photos in telephone booths.  Which we did next, en route to Big Ben and Parliament.

After a walk around Large Benjamin, down Parliament, and past Westminster Abbey (and one picture-taking interlude with Italian tourists later), we walked back up the Thames in the direction of Embankment Street, passing Whitehall, my favorite building in London, and the memorial to the Battle of Britain, which made Jon very excited.  On the road we used to cut back toward Trafalgar we found the Sherlock Holmes pub!  So we went in and ordered pint of the Sherlock Holmes Ale on tap.  It was good, not remarkable, but the pub's ambiance and the company of friends made it great.

As we were planning on seeing "Avenue Q" last night, we had dinner at a pub called The Captain's Circle (or maybe Corner) right off Piccadilly Circus.  Roast beef, steak-and-ale pie, and chicken-chorizo pie made for a great classic English pub dinner which, shockingly, was really delicious.  After eating we got our tickets (main floor, row M, centered!) for the show and went to explore Piccadilly Circus for a bit.  We checked out Lillywhite's, the Dick's Sporting Goods of the UK only bigger and better, and then headed back for the show.

Oh, my gosh.  If you ever have the means or inclination to see a show that will literally make your sides hurt from laughing, "Avenue Q" should be it.  It was hilarious.  I laughed so hard I teared up.  The off-color, totally un-PC humor just made my night, and it was a perfect show to take Phil to, being that he has a moderately off-color, un-PC sense of humor himself.  We walked back and got right down to spring break finalizing business when we got home; Phil and Jon were nice enough to just hang out as everybody in the London Program is running around like a bunch of headless chickens getting ready to leave for break today.

Today we're doing the British Museum in the morning, having lunch at Café Saffron to introduce the boys to good British-Indian food, and then I have to bid PBlack goodbye as it's time for me to leave on a jet plane for Tuscany, Barcelona and Paris!!  I'll do my best to update this somehow from the Continent, but I will definitely at least be making regular Microsoft Word "blog entries" to publish when I get home.

Have a lovely week, enjoy spring break for those of you who are on it, and I will write soon.

Arrivederci!