My first full day in France didn't start until much later than I wanted it to. Due to a ridiculous case of jet lag, I didn't wake up until well after noon. Upon waking up I met a friend, Caroline, to head down to the local supermarché. I had written a little list before I went, which was good, because upon entering I was totally overwhelmed. It didn’t help that it was Saturday, midday, and that it’s the biggest store in the area. After entering you are welcomed by a flurry of French people, grabbing groceries very quickly. It’s seriously like hyper-speed. In this sort of store they did not have shopping carts, like those you’d see in the States. Instead you are expected to use a basket. They do have little push carts that can accommodate two baskets, which is the most anyone can really handle. After wandering around for awhile picking up things that were definitely random I went to the checkout. French supermarchés are likely Aldi stores in the State. People are expected to bag their own groceries, and at many of them you have to pay for the bags as well. I then had to lug all of my things back to my chambre at the Cité.
Later in the day I went with Caroline, and our friends Sarah and Jessie to buy cell phones. We took the metro to St. Michel-Notre Dame, which is right on the Seine. Upon exiting the station you can see Notre Dame right across the Seine. The four of us walked over to check it out, and ended up wandering around inside for a good half hour. Going into this I’m expecting that some of the famous monuments are going to be completely tourist-ified. But this was surprisingly not. Ok, there was a long line outside, but it moved relatively quickly. Inside there is a counter at the entrance, but then most of the rest of it is relatively untouched. The ceilings were impossibly high, and the stone work was amazing. I’m not a religious person, at all, but I could see myself attending a service there at some point in the next six months.
After Notre Dame we headed over to the Orange Boutique. Cell phones in Europe are somewhat different than in the States. All incoming calls are free, and it’s much easier to pre-pay. I got a cheap phone (that is actually way cuter than my old one), and I set up a pre-pay plan. It took us about and hour and a half and I felt bad for the girl who helped us, because it was obviously difficult to work with three Americans who didn’t know cell phone vocabulary in French.
Jessie then led us down a road to find something to eat. Jessie did the pre-program, so she is at least partly familiar with Paris. We found this great café by the Metro stop Odéon. I ate a Croque Madame, which is a ham and cheese melt with an egg on top. It was incredible and relatively inexpensive for Paris. I’ll have to go back there again.
Afterwards I went home and passed out, exhausted from the cell phone ordeal and my jet lag.
NOTRE DAME PICTURES CAN BE FOUND HERE:
http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2009651&l=0c233&id=1599570086
Monday, September 29, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
In Which I Find Out Trans-Atlantic Flights Are Not For Me
First off, I'm in Paris. Wow. Kinda still unbelievable that I got this lucky.
The trip over was, long. It started with a three hour bus ride from Madison to O'Hare Airport in Chicago. I hit Chicago at about 2:30 in the afternoon, and my flight wasn't until 6, so I had to take my time checking in, or risk being unbelievably bored. Minor success. One of my bags was two pounds too heavy, but I talked my way into letting me have it like that. I got my backpack searched at the Security Checkpoint, which was sort of cute but not really. I drank my last proper Starbucks Carmel Macchiato. And then it was 3:15. I managed to kill time ok, because I found an outlet and I plugged in my laptop and watched How I Met Your Mother. At about 4:30 another girl from my program, Alexa, showed up, so we chatted.
The flight to Detroit was lame. Only 49 minutes (timed on my watch). When we got to Detroit we had about 20 minutes to find our gate before they started boarding. The plane we got on was the biggest one I've ever been on. It was ridiculous, and absolutely full. Who'd have thought that? I sat by this strange Russian man, who was named... I kid you not... Nikolai. He told me it had been his childhood dream to go to Detroit, because it is "ze capital of ze automobile." I didn't have the heart to tell him that Detroit sucks. He then proceeded to fall asleep for the entire flight, snoring very loudly. I did not sleep a wink.
Upon arrival at De Gaulle in Paris I zoomed through customs (which is overrated) and then grabbed my bags. Another Chicago student and I left Alexa behind, because she had lost a bag, and was supposed to wait for someone anyway, and searched out the RER train. It was a lot of long hallways and elevators that did not work very well. I volunteered to do the ticket machine because the other student, Sabrina, doesn't speak any French. It took me three tries, but I managed, and then we lugged our bags to the RER for the trip to the Cité Universitaire. We didn't get to see much of Paris on the train ride, as the RER went underground most of the time, but when we got off... wow. The station is down a level, but open to the elements. It has trees that hang over, and as it is just fall here, it was gorgeous, and very quaint.
The Cité itself is also gorgeous. Upon exiting the RER station the Maison Internationale is directly in front of you. It is huge, and looks old, but is nicely updated. There is a big gorgeous garden too. We hung a left at the Maison Internationale and headed to the Fondation des États-Unis (USA House) to check-in. I was then escorted to the Maison de Provinces de France, my home for the next six months. It is similar to the Maison Internationale. Very big, and old-looking, by newly renovated. My room is amazing. I have a big gorgeous window that opens all of the way (no screen!). I also have a private bath that looks like something you'd see in an RV, but it doesn't matter because it's all mine.
After unpacking a bit I had a short Orientation meeting, the point of which was to prod us to fill up our metro cards. No one had brought money, so it was not worth it really. I departed the meeting with two girls from my program, Sarah and Caroline. We went for a walk, looking for food. We found a cute boulangerie (bakery) that was having a meal special. We bought baguette sandwiches, éclairs, and drinks. After we walked to the Parc de Montsouris, which is next to the RER station. It is really cute, with a total Central Park vibe. We hung out a bit before heading home, where I proceeded to pass out at about 7 pm. I did not wake up properly until 11:30 the next day.
The trip over was, long. It started with a three hour bus ride from Madison to O'Hare Airport in Chicago. I hit Chicago at about 2:30 in the afternoon, and my flight wasn't until 6, so I had to take my time checking in, or risk being unbelievably bored. Minor success. One of my bags was two pounds too heavy, but I talked my way into letting me have it like that. I got my backpack searched at the Security Checkpoint, which was sort of cute but not really. I drank my last proper Starbucks Carmel Macchiato. And then it was 3:15. I managed to kill time ok, because I found an outlet and I plugged in my laptop and watched How I Met Your Mother. At about 4:30 another girl from my program, Alexa, showed up, so we chatted.
The flight to Detroit was lame. Only 49 minutes (timed on my watch). When we got to Detroit we had about 20 minutes to find our gate before they started boarding. The plane we got on was the biggest one I've ever been on. It was ridiculous, and absolutely full. Who'd have thought that? I sat by this strange Russian man, who was named... I kid you not... Nikolai. He told me it had been his childhood dream to go to Detroit, because it is "ze capital of ze automobile." I didn't have the heart to tell him that Detroit sucks. He then proceeded to fall asleep for the entire flight, snoring very loudly. I did not sleep a wink.
Upon arrival at De Gaulle in Paris I zoomed through customs (which is overrated) and then grabbed my bags. Another Chicago student and I left Alexa behind, because she had lost a bag, and was supposed to wait for someone anyway, and searched out the RER train. It was a lot of long hallways and elevators that did not work very well. I volunteered to do the ticket machine because the other student, Sabrina, doesn't speak any French. It took me three tries, but I managed, and then we lugged our bags to the RER for the trip to the Cité Universitaire. We didn't get to see much of Paris on the train ride, as the RER went underground most of the time, but when we got off... wow. The station is down a level, but open to the elements. It has trees that hang over, and as it is just fall here, it was gorgeous, and very quaint.
The Cité itself is also gorgeous. Upon exiting the RER station the Maison Internationale is directly in front of you. It is huge, and looks old, but is nicely updated. There is a big gorgeous garden too. We hung a left at the Maison Internationale and headed to the Fondation des États-Unis (USA House) to check-in. I was then escorted to the Maison de Provinces de France, my home for the next six months. It is similar to the Maison Internationale. Very big, and old-looking, by newly renovated. My room is amazing. I have a big gorgeous window that opens all of the way (no screen!). I also have a private bath that looks like something you'd see in an RV, but it doesn't matter because it's all mine.
After unpacking a bit I had a short Orientation meeting, the point of which was to prod us to fill up our metro cards. No one had brought money, so it was not worth it really. I departed the meeting with two girls from my program, Sarah and Caroline. We went for a walk, looking for food. We found a cute boulangerie (bakery) that was having a meal special. We bought baguette sandwiches, éclairs, and drinks. After we walked to the Parc de Montsouris, which is next to the RER station. It is really cute, with a total Central Park vibe. We hung out a bit before heading home, where I proceeded to pass out at about 7 pm. I did not wake up properly until 11:30 the next day.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Here I Go
So it's late Wednesday night, the night before I set off on one of the biggest odysseys of my life. I'm wide awake due to the excitement. My bags are packed, too packed, and I have all of my affairs in order, mostly.
In a way I'm a bit unaffected by all of this. I've been waiting for this adventure to start for such a long time, it's hard to believe that it's finally here. All of my friends were abroad last spring, and I just hung out in Chicago and read about what they were doing, thinking, this fall I'm going to have my own stories like this. It's hard to believe that it's fall now, and that it's time for me to start having my adventures.
So, here I go.
Next time you hear from me I'll be on the other end of the Atlantic. Probably dead tired, but hopefully really jazzed about my surroundings and the cool adventure I've just begun.
In a way I'm a bit unaffected by all of this. I've been waiting for this adventure to start for such a long time, it's hard to believe that it's finally here. All of my friends were abroad last spring, and I just hung out in Chicago and read about what they were doing, thinking, this fall I'm going to have my own stories like this. It's hard to believe that it's fall now, and that it's time for me to start having my adventures.
So, here I go.
Next time you hear from me I'll be on the other end of the Atlantic. Probably dead tired, but hopefully really jazzed about my surroundings and the cool adventure I've just begun.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Eurail
My Eurail pass came by FedEx yesterday. It's everything I dreamed it would be. I get to ride just about any train I want in Europe for a whole month. Which of course means I'm going to go EVERYWHERE! Or not, because I won't want to spend that much time on a train.
One Week 'Til Paris
New video blog. It's been awhile, I'm trying to figure out which cameras still work ;-)
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Visa, Don't Leave Home Without One
Or, don't stay in France more than 90 days without one.
Seeing as my study abroad experience is going to total about twice that amount of time, I had to apply for a visa. The application is slightly more involved than you'd think, however. Not only did I have to get another set of those lovely one-inch photos from Walgreen's, I also had to get a notarized statement saying I wasn't broke, among other things. Further, as a student, I had to register for the online network "Campus France." The only real help in this is that they keep track of me, and I get to pay an extra $60. You can't apply for a French Student Visa without proof of being a "Campus France" member either. It was just another delightful way they managed to take money from me.
The French really don't like to make it simple either. I couldn't just mail my application to the consulate. I had to take it in, in person. Luckily the nearest consulate is in Chicago, and since I go to school there I know lots of lovely people that I could go visit. So last Thursday I did a joint trip down to the city, to get my visa and visit a few of my friends who I won't be seeing for a long while.
After dropping $27 to get to O'Hare I sat on a sweaty blue line train ($2), direction downtown. I arrived on State Street an hour and a half early for my visa appointment, so I shopped around at some of my favorite stores that we don't have in Wisconsin. I didn't really need anything, but I couldn't resist a pair of jeans for $12.50. Oh, and two pairs of leggings ($4.50 each). Afterwards I dropped $5 on a quick lunch of chips and salsa at Chipotle, before hunting down the French Consulate.
The French Consulate is actually located in 205 N Michigan. It's a fancy high-rise that looks out on Milenium Park to the south, and Lake Michigan to the east. Upon arriving I had to sign-in at visitor's desk to get credentials to ride the elevator the the consultae. After arriving on the 37th or so floor of the consulate I entered a modern looking sitting area. The seats were clear plastic and there was a brightly colored, geometric shapes rug on the floor. There was also no one to be seen. Another visitor told me that it was lunchtime at the consulate, and that the staff would return at 2:00, about 15 minutes from my arrival.
I had a seat and pulled out the book I was reading (We Might As Well Win, by Johan Bruyneel... loved it). I listened in on the conversations of the other arrivals. Mostly uptight American's who were also heading into the visa office. At about 5 minutes until 2 the first couple got up to go line up outside the Visa Office. From eavesdropping I learned that they thought they would be the first ones to go through the application process if they lined up early. They obviously don't know the French. I figured that the first person wouldn't get back from lunch until 2:15 or so, and that the Office wouldn't be going until at least 2:20.
I was right. I just sat and hung out in the sitting area while about a dozen people lined up in the hall. When the Office was finally opened they made us sit in another lobby while they readied their materials. One man walked up to the window (a bit like a ticket window at a theater) and tried to give them his stuff. The woman waved him away, "We call you up when we're ready." And then the other women looked out at us, and walked away for a good while.
At about 2:30 the room was getting restless. Our appointment time was 2:00, they wanted to get on with it and then get out. I was slightly entertained with their impatience and I sat trying to figure out why each person was going to France. Then the first name was called, Mine! In my head I was deeply pleased. I was the one that cared the least about getting out of there (mostly because I wasn't meeting my friends till after 5:00). I went through the application process ($74) and then was told I could come back at 4:15 for my passport. The woman nearest me turned green. "4:15?" she whispered really loud. I grinned internally. This was great.
I wandered around Milenium Park for awhile, bought a coffee ($4), and then window shopped. I got back to the consulate at 4:10 to find the room full of all of the people I had seen earlier, and others. I figured some had stayed the whole two hours. The last part was painless. The called us up one at a time, handed us our passports, and then we were free to go.
Afterwards I jumped on the 6 ($2) and headed to Hyde Park. I found Mayon in the Quad, and later we met up with Anton for dinner at Salonica (french toast, eggs, hash browns, coffee--$10). After we walked around the campus, dipping our feet in the Law School Fountain, stepping into the air conditioning of Crerar, and catching a first glimpse of the new library addition. We left Anton on the corner of 56th and Woodlawn and walked back to Mayon's place. Mayon and I hung around for awhile before I passed out from fatigue.
The next morning I departed Mayon's early so she could head to work. I bought a coffee and pain au chocolat ($5) and boarded the metra towards downtown ($2.35). Downtown I walked through the loop in the drizzle of the morning, admiring the clouds around the top of the tallest buildings in the midwest, and dropping $5 on a huge Jamba Juice. I made the bus back home right as it started to board ($28) and headed back to Wisconsin.
It was a long 24 hours. I accomplished a lot, and got a strange first glimpse at the differences between American and French Culture. I dropped $61.35 on transportation, $29 on food, $21.50 on clothes I don't need, and $134 on a visa to France. It doesn't matter though, because the adventure I'm about to have will be--priceless.
Seeing as my study abroad experience is going to total about twice that amount of time, I had to apply for a visa. The application is slightly more involved than you'd think, however. Not only did I have to get another set of those lovely one-inch photos from Walgreen's, I also had to get a notarized statement saying I wasn't broke, among other things. Further, as a student, I had to register for the online network "Campus France." The only real help in this is that they keep track of me, and I get to pay an extra $60. You can't apply for a French Student Visa without proof of being a "Campus France" member either. It was just another delightful way they managed to take money from me.
The French really don't like to make it simple either. I couldn't just mail my application to the consulate. I had to take it in, in person. Luckily the nearest consulate is in Chicago, and since I go to school there I know lots of lovely people that I could go visit. So last Thursday I did a joint trip down to the city, to get my visa and visit a few of my friends who I won't be seeing for a long while.
After dropping $27 to get to O'Hare I sat on a sweaty blue line train ($2), direction downtown. I arrived on State Street an hour and a half early for my visa appointment, so I shopped around at some of my favorite stores that we don't have in Wisconsin. I didn't really need anything, but I couldn't resist a pair of jeans for $12.50. Oh, and two pairs of leggings ($4.50 each). Afterwards I dropped $5 on a quick lunch of chips and salsa at Chipotle, before hunting down the French Consulate.
The French Consulate is actually located in 205 N Michigan. It's a fancy high-rise that looks out on Milenium Park to the south, and Lake Michigan to the east. Upon arriving I had to sign-in at visitor's desk to get credentials to ride the elevator the the consultae. After arriving on the 37th or so floor of the consulate I entered a modern looking sitting area. The seats were clear plastic and there was a brightly colored, geometric shapes rug on the floor. There was also no one to be seen. Another visitor told me that it was lunchtime at the consulate, and that the staff would return at 2:00, about 15 minutes from my arrival.
I had a seat and pulled out the book I was reading (We Might As Well Win, by Johan Bruyneel... loved it). I listened in on the conversations of the other arrivals. Mostly uptight American's who were also heading into the visa office. At about 5 minutes until 2 the first couple got up to go line up outside the Visa Office. From eavesdropping I learned that they thought they would be the first ones to go through the application process if they lined up early. They obviously don't know the French. I figured that the first person wouldn't get back from lunch until 2:15 or so, and that the Office wouldn't be going until at least 2:20.
I was right. I just sat and hung out in the sitting area while about a dozen people lined up in the hall. When the Office was finally opened they made us sit in another lobby while they readied their materials. One man walked up to the window (a bit like a ticket window at a theater) and tried to give them his stuff. The woman waved him away, "We call you up when we're ready." And then the other women looked out at us, and walked away for a good while.
At about 2:30 the room was getting restless. Our appointment time was 2:00, they wanted to get on with it and then get out. I was slightly entertained with their impatience and I sat trying to figure out why each person was going to France. Then the first name was called, Mine! In my head I was deeply pleased. I was the one that cared the least about getting out of there (mostly because I wasn't meeting my friends till after 5:00). I went through the application process ($74) and then was told I could come back at 4:15 for my passport. The woman nearest me turned green. "4:15?" she whispered really loud. I grinned internally. This was great.
I wandered around Milenium Park for awhile, bought a coffee ($4), and then window shopped. I got back to the consulate at 4:10 to find the room full of all of the people I had seen earlier, and others. I figured some had stayed the whole two hours. The last part was painless. The called us up one at a time, handed us our passports, and then we were free to go.
Afterwards I jumped on the 6 ($2) and headed to Hyde Park. I found Mayon in the Quad, and later we met up with Anton for dinner at Salonica (french toast, eggs, hash browns, coffee--$10). After we walked around the campus, dipping our feet in the Law School Fountain, stepping into the air conditioning of Crerar, and catching a first glimpse of the new library addition. We left Anton on the corner of 56th and Woodlawn and walked back to Mayon's place. Mayon and I hung around for awhile before I passed out from fatigue.
The next morning I departed Mayon's early so she could head to work. I bought a coffee and pain au chocolat ($5) and boarded the metra towards downtown ($2.35). Downtown I walked through the loop in the drizzle of the morning, admiring the clouds around the top of the tallest buildings in the midwest, and dropping $5 on a huge Jamba Juice. I made the bus back home right as it started to board ($28) and headed back to Wisconsin.
It was a long 24 hours. I accomplished a lot, and got a strange first glimpse at the differences between American and French Culture. I dropped $61.35 on transportation, $29 on food, $21.50 on clothes I don't need, and $134 on a visa to France. It doesn't matter though, because the adventure I'm about to have will be--priceless.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
The Return of Lance
So here goes a ranty post about cycling, feel free to ignore.
In the last 24 hours I've read several reports saying that Lance Armstrong was going to make a comeback to cycling next season. At first I brushed it aside as, yeah right, these people wish... but with a confirmation from the man himself, I was more in an oh shit mood.
I love Lance Armstrong. He's the reason that I started watching cycling in the first place. I just don't want him to come back. It's been more than three years since he's raced, and things are very very different. The peloton is full of a bunch of young guys, with a different attacking style. None of his, use the team to blast the race apart and then ride it out to the end. Teams aren't getting a chance to do anything as guys are going off on solo flyers, forcing big favorites to grab a wheel and hold on for dear life. While I think Lance of all people is capable of putting a strong team together, will his strategy work anymore.
And what about the fact that there is a whole new generation of talent out there now. These young guys are 23, 24, 25 years old. Lance will be 37 soon. Is he really going to be able to keep up? And think of all of the potential he is blocking out if he signs with Astana. Oops, sorry Alberto Contador, you may have just won three grand tours in two years, but Lance is going to be the captain now? Is that really fair to Contador? What about Levi Leipheimer? Or Andreas Kloden who got thrown under the bus after the Vino drama of 07 and never got back out?
Mostly though, I want to remember Lance as a champion. The guy who won 7 in a row. I don't want to see him make a comeback and then fail disastrously. The last impression of him will be the lasting impression. Comebacks don't always work, and in a sport that's evolved this quickly from a lot of hard times, I just don't see how Lance can do it without disappointing a lot of fans, sorry.
In the last 24 hours I've read several reports saying that Lance Armstrong was going to make a comeback to cycling next season. At first I brushed it aside as, yeah right, these people wish... but with a confirmation from the man himself, I was more in an oh shit mood.
I love Lance Armstrong. He's the reason that I started watching cycling in the first place. I just don't want him to come back. It's been more than three years since he's raced, and things are very very different. The peloton is full of a bunch of young guys, with a different attacking style. None of his, use the team to blast the race apart and then ride it out to the end. Teams aren't getting a chance to do anything as guys are going off on solo flyers, forcing big favorites to grab a wheel and hold on for dear life. While I think Lance of all people is capable of putting a strong team together, will his strategy work anymore.
And what about the fact that there is a whole new generation of talent out there now. These young guys are 23, 24, 25 years old. Lance will be 37 soon. Is he really going to be able to keep up? And think of all of the potential he is blocking out if he signs with Astana. Oops, sorry Alberto Contador, you may have just won three grand tours in two years, but Lance is going to be the captain now? Is that really fair to Contador? What about Levi Leipheimer? Or Andreas Kloden who got thrown under the bus after the Vino drama of 07 and never got back out?
Mostly though, I want to remember Lance as a champion. The guy who won 7 in a row. I don't want to see him make a comeback and then fail disastrously. The last impression of him will be the lasting impression. Comebacks don't always work, and in a sport that's evolved this quickly from a lot of hard times, I just don't see how Lance can do it without disappointing a lot of fans, sorry.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
MENUDO!
Last night I dragged my Mom and sister to a $10 concert hosted by our local Top 40 Radio Station. Of course the performers I wanted to see... Menudo.
Before you start laughing at how ridiculous that sounds, let me explain. I have a serious respect for pop groups. Like I love them. And you know what, they are so a thing of the past. When I was 12 I would shit my pants for the Backstreet Boys or NSYNC. Not only because they have catchy music, but because they had real CHOREOGRAPHY that went along with their songs. And ok, they were hot too. So for me, seeing an actual pop group these days is so refreshing.
The band got up on the stage and they sang AND danced live. And they also played to the crowd, a mob of 14 year olds girls that screamed a lot, and were I head shorter than I was. Doesn't matter. I had so much fun. I sang along to the music, I danced... and I managed to get my hand out and touch every single one. You know what, my favorite one even grabbed my hand and spun me in a circle. Like from the stage. It was like every fantasy I had when I was 10 years old had come true. And I loved it. Enjoy some pictures.
MENUDO (Chris, Monti, Emmanuel, Jose, Carlos... love them).
They really do dance too.
Monti, my fave.
Ok, so they might be teenagers, but still.
All that matters is that I had a really good time, right?
Before you start laughing at how ridiculous that sounds, let me explain. I have a serious respect for pop groups. Like I love them. And you know what, they are so a thing of the past. When I was 12 I would shit my pants for the Backstreet Boys or NSYNC. Not only because they have catchy music, but because they had real CHOREOGRAPHY that went along with their songs. And ok, they were hot too. So for me, seeing an actual pop group these days is so refreshing.
The band got up on the stage and they sang AND danced live. And they also played to the crowd, a mob of 14 year olds girls that screamed a lot, and were I head shorter than I was. Doesn't matter. I had so much fun. I sang along to the music, I danced... and I managed to get my hand out and touch every single one. You know what, my favorite one even grabbed my hand and spun me in a circle. Like from the stage. It was like every fantasy I had when I was 10 years old had come true. And I loved it. Enjoy some pictures.
MENUDO (Chris, Monti, Emmanuel, Jose, Carlos... love them).
They really do dance too.
Monti, my fave.
Ok, so they might be teenagers, but still.
All that matters is that I had a really good time, right?
10 Reasons Why I Hate Running On The Streets Of Chicago
Or, I got a new camera and I wanted to test it out... Here are ten pictures of the trail that I have been running on for the last 7 summers. I think you can figure out why I do really like running along the busy streets of Chicago.
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