Normandy cont. plus Paris!! :)

Picking up right where I left off...

Showered and Dressed and out the door we went- but not into town. Instead Caroline and Yan were going to drive up to the Mer (Sea—in this case- The Channel) and they invited us along. Kim and I gladly joined in and we drove through the winding, flower-lined streets up to the water. It was beautiful- tulips EVERYWHERE along the way!

Funniest moment: I have a relatively ridiculous adoration for the Akon song “Right Now”… it’s catchy, what can I say. Well, Kim knows this and she smiled at me when the song came on the radio. I just can’t help but smile and dance and sing along to this song, it’s too fun. But as we got to the chorus the lines were changed, I say the real words, low and quietly from the back seat so as not to embarrass myself too much, but Akon didn’t sing the right words- Kim and I started, mouth’s open, staring at the radio on the dash. In place of the chorus we heard, “You need to turn up sky rock right now! You need to turn sky rock right now! Turn up sky rock, girl, right now! You need to turn up sky rock right now!” It was just kind of strange—but sure enough Akon was publicizing the French radio station by singing, in English, these words… would the French even understand? The ones who didn’t speak English that is?? Either way, by the time the last chorus came along I was singing these new words instead of the right words. Kim and I had a good chuckle about the whole thing.

We got up to the water, parked and proceeded to walk the Quai—Kim reminded me that this word in English is “boardwalk”… I had not remembered. There were a few British and French families along the shore, playing in the sand. It wasn’t too cold, but the kids running around half naked seemed a little extreme- the 4 of us still had our coats on. We walked back towards the car and decided to stop for a drink. The place where we stopped had the tables set up for lunch- that’s a French thing: if the tables are set up for food, you can’t sit there and only have a drink. So we asked if we sat on the edge of the boardwalk- the little wall that separated the beach from the path- if we could have a drink there. They thought it a little strange, but were all for it if we were. So Kim and I each had a panaché (beer and lemonade- kind of like a “Shandy” in the States), Caroline had a Monaco (beer, lemonade and grenadine syrup), and Yan had an Orangina. Apparently lunch was waiting for us back in Caen, so we got back in the car and headed back to the house.

For lunch we actually sat outside- it was a touch chilly- but the sun was shining and I even pulled out my sunscreen to be sure I wouldn’t get any more fried than I already was. Having heard that I had still not had frogs’ legs or escargot they decided now was the time. So Kim and I had the opportunity to try both- it was Clare’s mother’s first time having frogs’ legs as well. They kind-of, to be honest, look like little people legs- only turned out to the side like a puppet or a ballerina. There is a big flat bone that is basically the pelvis and attached to it is a little femur with the muscle (or meat) of the thigh attached and then a little tibia with the muscle (or meat) of the calf attached. There didn’t appear to be a fibula. I thought it was sort of creepy but funny to play with it’s legs, bending them and pulling them straight the same way a little tiny person’s legs would move. When I pointed this out to Kim she did not find it as interesting as I did but rather wished I not mention it while she was trying to concentrate on eating it. Hahaha. They weren’t bad to eat really—covered as they were in butter and garlic. There’s not a lot of meat on them so it’s not like it’s really worth it in my opinion, but I suppose it’s kind of like really soft chicken meat sautéed in butter and garlic. Good experience.

I ate a snail too- the taste itself wasn’t too bad- covered in some sort of pesto and butter sauce. But the texture! Ugh!! So slimy and icky… I wasn’t about to do that twice.

After the rest of lunch, including finishing off the Easter Terrimisu and having café and all that goodness, we filed out to do different things. Kim and I chatted with Clare’s mom for a while then Bernard and Clare dropped us downtown so we could explore the city a little. We wandered around town and up to the Chateau again. Today the new part- the part that was under construction when I had been there 3 years earlier- was open today. So Kim and I went in and took pictures of that part. (I’ll load all the pics to Picassa and give you the link… soon, I promise!) Then we went up to check out my old university. It was cool and sort of sereal to be there. It was lovely with all the green and the trees blooming purple flowers and the sun shining and the same graffiti on the walls as always.  It made me happy.

We then walked down to the Jardin des Plantes, a park with lots of different plants and flowers that are organized beautifully and labeled so you can see which they are. They have a sequoia tree and lots of other pretty things.  We sat there and read/knit for a while before finally calling Bernard to have him come pick us up. We went back and ate mostly leftovers (raclette and other stuff) for dinner and then spent the evening hanging out in the living room- chatting and enjoying what was left of each other’s company. I said goodbye to Bernard that night, since he would be leaving around 5AM. Clare would leave around 9ish so I would be up the next morning to say goodbye to her. I go up around 8:30 and went down to sit with her while she ate breakfast (Kim was still sleeping and I waited for her to eat). Then when the time came we hugged and said goodbye. It was sad; it’d been such a wonderful weekend and I missed them. I had almost forgotten what wonderful people they were. So nice, so caring and helpful! I felt like these people were my family in so many ways.

I said goodbye to Lise and Jacque (who had only just returned from his weekend with his Dad, looking like a much older 16 than the 13-year-old-who-really-looked-like-a-10-year-old image I had remembered from 3 years prior) and Kim and I took the Twisto Bus back into town. We met up with Andrew, who was coming in to see HIS host family for a few days. Kim would stay with him and explore more of the area; they were renting a car and going to see Mont St. Michelle and St. Malo. We got Mezzo di Pasta for lunch and took it to the poulouse in front of the castle and sat there for a few hours- eating, lounging in the sunshine, Andrew and I recalling different memories from our time here, enjoying life. Finally we parted ways- me to my train, them to Andrew’s host parent’s place to drop luggage.

I took the train into Paris and found my youth hostel without trouble. I called up my roommate Will, who is Paris looking for an internship, and he said he’d come get me and we’d go wander around. When he got there we velo’d as I like to say, the city. In French a bike is a velo. The verb “to bike” in French is faire du velo, which is long and obnoxious. So I use my mangled up Franglais term “velo’d” instead.  Anyway, in a lot of cities in France now, Lyon, Paris and Caen all being examples, they have major biking systems. You basically pay 1 Euro and you rent a bike. It’s free for every half hour you use a bike but the ticket you pay 1 Euro for is good for 24 hours. So, technically, you could go ride one bike for 30 minutes, then switch bikes at a station (there are TONS of stations around) and use another bike for another 30 minutes at no additional cost. As long as you “refresh” so to speak 30 minutes you can use it as much as you want at no additional cost. If you don’t return the bike, though, it costs you 150 Euros. And since you have to do it with your bank card- you have to have 150 Euros in your bank account at the time you get the card.

Sorry for the detailed background info- I thought it would help… anyway… So we grabbed bikes and headed across town. My hostel was just on the edge of the Latin Quarter and the 13^th District (if that means something to you), we biked across the river and up to Notre Dame. We tried to catch one of his friends to hang out with, but apparently he was on his way out somewhere and didn’t have time. So we went to have a drink just across the river from Notre Dame and chatted some. Then we biked some more, actually, a lot more… the only problem with the stations is that lots of people velo TO certain places- thus all the spots for getting rid of your bike are full- we rode around for a while… a long while… completely changing our focus on what we were after so that we could just get rid of the bikes. For dinner we ate the hugest crepe I’ve ever seen in my life. It was enormous and delicious!! Then we walked a little bit, grabbed another drink at another bar somewhere along the way and then biked all the way back. At this point I felt like I had biked all over Paris- from Place de la Concord around Notre Dame, past the Louvre making rounds on little back streets and getting lost—thanking the Lord that Will knew enough about Paris to get us around like this because I was completely unaware of our directions and had to have him tell me which direction the Eiffel Tower was in because I had no idea where we were at that point. I was exhausted!! Will escorted me back to my hostel near midnight and then headed home himself.

The other 3 ladies in my hostel room were Asian, visiting Paris for 2 weeks. They, however, stayed up REALLY LATE on their computers… I tried to be patient and wait for them to finish, reading a book until around 2am. Finally I gave up on waiting for them and I just put my book away, brushed my teeth and went to bed with the light still on. I was vaguely away that it was still on until I fell asleep around 2:15 or 2:30—I honestly have no idea when they finally went to bed. I got up early to take advantage of the free breakfast at the hostel, not to mention my limited time in Paris. I came back, showered and packed up my stuff, checked out of the hostel, leaving my bags in the secure room for them, and headed out into the another lovely day. My first priority was to go to Musée d’Orsay and see my favorite painting in the world. I got there and didn’t have to wait too long in the lines before I made it in. I’d been in this museum twice before and, honestly, it was just another museum on the first floor- old painting and sculptures—sure, they were great works of art to a lot of people, but I didn’t have the patience to walk appreciatively through them all- I headed straight for the impressionist section on the 5^th floor.

I knew I’d have to come back and walk through this part again—the beginning of the impressionist wing… I liked these paintings, I appreciated them. But MY painting was waiting, pulling me forward. I NEEDED to see it! It’d been so long since I’d seen it up close and in person. Then there it was, Eglise D’Auvers by Vincent Van Gogh… SO AMAZING! I stood in front of it for easily 20 minutes, appreciating every aspect of it. It was just as impressive as the last time I’d seen it, just as captivating. I walked away and saw the rest of the impressionist wing- paying close attention to the differences between the times I’d been here and what I still appreciated most. Granted, almost everything was beautiful and impressive, but some paintings just hold your attention longer than others. I was trying to figure out WHY that was for me. I found that the ones with brighter colors did it best: Les rochers de Belle-Ile by Monet, Les villa a Bordighera by Monet, Le Chateau des Papes by Signac (which I also love because it’s of the most amazing view of Avignon, my favorite city in France), L’homme a la barre by Rysselberghe (another pointalism artist), and L’Evasion de Rochefort by Manet. The pastel paintings I had previously loved no longer captivated me like they once had. I just didn’t find their pull to stand and stare at them, to examine their beauty, as strong as with the others- the brighter paintings. The one exception is ondres, le Parlement. Trouée de soleil dans le brouillard 1904 by Monet. There is something mysterious and interesting about this painting. I stared at that one for a while too.

20 minutes with my masterpiece wasn’t enough and as I went back twice more to stare at it in between looking at the rest of the museum—well, the rest of the impressionist part of the museum. I started wondering what it was specifically about it that I loved so much- my first response was the brilliancy of the blue sky with the contrast of the grey-green church. Then there’s the way the Van Gogh puts colors where they don’t belong- like the blue on the sandy road (or, in Potrait of an Arist, the way he puts blues and green on his own face)- and it blends in so fittingly, so perfectly as if it were, in real life, supposed to be there. And then, when you look close the thickness of the paint strokes- not completely flat like so many other paintings by so many other artists- but texturized; globs of paint in stripes that subtly dripped as they dried. All of these things draw me to it- I can’t get enough of it.

I finally pulled myself away for the last time and headed towards the exit. Meandering through the rest of the museum the dull-colored country sides with cows and naked women failed to capture my interest and I was quickly heading for the exit and the sun.

I had promised my sister that I would go to see the Eiffle Tower. I’d seen it before and taken pictures of it before, but I made the promise and was going to keep it. I was sort of looking for velos as I walked the quai headed toward the Eiffle Tower, but I never seemed to find them and so I walked, the whole way, from the Orsay Museum to the Eiffle Tower. It took about 35 minutes. I got there and was starving. I knew that getting food around the most visited tourist attraction in all of Paris was going to be expensive, but what choice did I have at this point? I got a 5 Euro hot dog and a bottle of water and sat there eating under the Eiffel Tower. I walked around it, taking tons of pictures, hoping that the light would get better—with the sun high in the sky behind the quickly rolling in layer of clouds left a bright white background on all my photos that wasn’t exactly gorgeous, but what could I do?

From my walk and my lack of sleep I was tired. I had been to Paris before and honestly didn’t have any specific thing I wanted to do (besides seeing my painting- mission accomplished) so I just headed back to the Jardin de Touleries next to the Louvre. Despite my tiredness I still didn’t really want to waste my time in paris wandering underground- I wanted to SEE it! So I found a velo easily enough- tons clearly around the Eiffel tour- and headed back the way I came, passing the Orsay Museum and getting rid of my bike near the park. I had bought a sweatshirt as it had started to get really chilly with the sun hidden and the wind blowing. I sat in the park enjoying the view for a while. I thought about knitting but I wasn’t sure I had enough energy and besides, that would have taken my view off the majesty around me and that didn’t seem fair when I only got so little time with it.

I finally got myself up and headed back to the hostel to grab my bags. I had a little bit of time—in my haste to get out of the cold I had unintentionally given myself extra time. I hung out in the hostel for a little bit, then grabbed my stuff and half metroed, half walked to the Gare de Lyon train station. I picked up a sandwich on the way so I’d have something to eat for dinner on the train. Then I found my train and, reluctantly, headed back to Lyon- reminding myself that I only had a little while longer in the city before I went on vacation again- next time to the most exciting places I’d ever dreamed of- Venice, Vienna and Prague- and very very soon after I would be on a plane headed back to the good old US of A.

NOTE: please be patient about the pictures, i'm having some issues and can't get them to load... I'm working on it, they'll be up as soon as I figure it out, I promise!!