From the Mountains of Grenoble to the Caves of Choranche

So now that November is nearing its end, I am finally getting to do a little traveling! Last weekend I went on an overnight trip with NYU to Grenoble, a city in France that lies in the foothills of the Alps.

NYU offers three different trips to students over the course of the semester, which are included in what we already pay for tuition) and everyone is guaranteed to go on at least one. Cassie, Caitlin, and I all signed up for Grenoble and we have been looking forward to it since the beginning of the semester.

DAY 1:

We met at the Gare Lyon at 7:20 (the earliest time I have seen in quite a while) to embark on the 3 hour journey to the south eastern area of France. After we arrived, we were able to go off on our own for a little while to explore and eat lunch before meeting to take the télépherique (a cable tram) up to the top of the Bastille (a fort). Once at the top, we spent the afternoon enjoying the fresh air and beautiful fall weather on top of a mountain including views of the Alps in the distance.

After playing around the Bastille, we headed back down the mountain and boarded the bus to take us to the Chartreuse liquor caves. These are the largest liquor caves in the world and home to the erie green liquor known as Chartreuse (obviously for it's color). We got to learn all about the distillation process and the history of the liquor, which is made by monks. Fun fact: at any given time, only two monks ever know the exact recipe and quantity of ingredients to make the liquor! NYU even arranged for us to have a little degustation after our tour. My review: the taste is pretty odd, maybe a mix between liquorish and herbs.

By this point we were all exhausted, but the day was definitely not over! We checked into the hotel and had about an hour to rest before it was time to head back up to the top of the Bastille to enjoy the views of Grenoble by night and have our wonderful dinner. First we met outside the restaurant, Chez le Per' Gras, to sip some mulled wine and taste olive bread (both specialties of the area) I loved the atmosphere of this as everyone was milling around. It was almost like a bonfire, without the fire... if that makes sense.

The dinner was a four course meal! We ate pumpkin soup with chestnuts to start, then we moved on the the main course, roclette. Roclette is a little bit like fondu, you melt the cheese in this contraption and then you dump it over potatoes. They also brought out a plate of various meats that you can mix into you potato/ cheese creation. (this dish is not for the faint of heart... I was preparing to have my friends to roll back down the mountain) If that wasn't enough, for dessert we were served a decadent Nougat ice cream, made with the Noix de Grenoble (a nut that comes from the region) Finally we had coffee and expresso, before heading back down to the hotel to promptly pass out. Did I mention that the wine never stopped coming over the course of this meal (including the new beaujolais vintage that all of France was going crazy over last weekend)??

DAY 2:

We woke up early again and had breakfast at our hotel before checking out and throwing all our bags on the bus. Then we went and met up with the group to go on a walking tour of the old

city of Grenoble. Honestly, I could have done without the walking tour, as I would have enjoyed having a little more free time to explore and shop on my own, but it was interesting none the

less.

After the walking tour we got on the bus to drive to Pont en Royans, a small but cute town with some of the most picturesque views! There didn't seem to be very much going on here, but we enjoyed walking around the town anyways and having a nice long lunch in a restaurant over looking a small river and waterfall. Although some other students did choose to do a little hiking... you all know that's not quite my style.

The last stop of the day was the caves in Choranche. This was probably my favorite thing, aside from the roclette dinner, although the drive up the narrow, winding, mountainous road in an enormous bus did not please me quite as much... These caves are huge and filled with stalactites and stalagmites. There is also tons of water in the cave, ranging from little pools to smallish lakes. I was really blown away by everything in here... nature at its finest!!

By the end of the day we were all WIPED. We made it back to the train station in Valence and waited for the train to come that would take us back to Paris. The train ride back was really enjoyable as we talked about all the great things that we got to do this weekend!

Next up: Prague!!

Art of Travel: Receptivity

After reading the de Botton chapter, “On Habitat,” I was rather struck by several things. First the quote that he implements at the very beginning, “the sole cause of man’s unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room,” really resonates with me at the moment. As I have previously mentioned in my blogs, I am currently living alone but to be honest, not really enjoying it. I love the city and all the great things that Paris has to offer, but at the end of the day I am always sad to leave my friends to go home to an empty apartment. And on days when I don’t have plans after class and I just come straight home it is even more annoying. Also because school here is so much less demanding than it is back in New York, I never really even have much homework to keep me occupied. I have come to think that my overall experience here in Paris might have been somewhat different if I had had a roommate with whom I could have taken in the trials and tribulations of daily life living abroad.

I always thought that I would like living alone, but I think that while abroad was probably not the right time to explore this theory. I think that this is partly because I came into the semester knowing very few people on the program and with none of my friends, whereas if I was living alone in New York I would have a much more established network of people as well as my rather hectic life to keep me busy.

De Botton also speaks of receptivity in this chapter, which also applies to my situation. When I first found out that I was going to be living alone, I decided the best way to approach the situation was with “receptivity.” I thought that maybe if I kept this open mind frame that maybe the situation would end up working out for the best and I would end up being happy that I opted to keep my studio. What I have really come to discover is that receptivity is very important when encountering a new place but perhaps not so important when it concerns you fixed habitat because this may ultimately dictate how you experience the rest of your surroundings.

Along with my personal and immediate habitat, I also think about the city itself, as it is my habitat. It has made me do a lot of comparison between how I experience my home city, Atlanta, as well as New York. I was struck by what de Botton says about home and “being more settled in our expectations, feeling assured that we have discovered everything interesting about our neighborhood,” but I would say that if anything, traveling has made appreciate home even more and think about the things that I have never gotten the chance to do or experience at home. It makes me want to make more of an effort when I return to try to experience all of the little things, like I do here in Paris.

Art of Travel: "Franck"

Like every big city, Paris has it’s share of homeless people. It’s funny how after living in an area for a while, you start to notice the same homeless people over and over again and you realize that while they may be homeless this is they have a neighborhood, the same as everyone else.

Last year, living in Carlyle, it was the couple outside of Whole Foods with the dog, and the year before that when I lived in U-Hall it was the old man who shouted “On the Catwalk” every time a pretty girl walked by. They become characters who are incorporated into our everyday lives even though we’ve probably never exchanged words or had much interaction with them. Sometimes I even find myself wondering if they recognize me by some weird trait or characteristic, as I do with them.

Well here in Paris, it is no different. On my walk to school each day, I tend to notice the same homeless people, or “sans abris.” However, there is one man who sticks out in my mind. I obviously don’t know his name, but for this entry’s purposes let’s call him “Franck.” I don’t know what it is about Franck that is so fascinating to me, but I have just been really intrigued by him ever since I first realized his presence. Franck looks exactly the same every day since the first time I saw him back in September. He wears a grey, wool, sweater/coat thing, he has a long full beard and crazy hair, and the longest finger nails that I have ever seen on a man. I guess as far as appearance goes he doesn’t look much different than any other homeless person that you would find. What gets me about Franck are his mannerisms.

When I see Franck, he is never just sitting on the ground with a cup for coins, like the others. He is always walking around. Right in the mix with everyone else, as if he has somewhere very important that he is going but he never actually goes anywhere. If you spend a significant amount of time out running errands on Rue de Passy, you will see him multiple times, always heading in a new direction or place. He just walks back and forth all day long. He never seems to be begging for money or food, just always walking around almost has if he is checking up on things. After all, it is his quartier too, right?

Les Frimousses de Créateurs

Moving right along to a much more pleasant subject...

While perusing the November issue of Vogue Paris, I came across a little article about a free exhibit being held at the Petit Palais. The article first caught my eye because of the adorable little doll that was pictured next to it. (I have been on the hunt for something great to bring back for Lila and Cokie and I thought maybe this was it) After reading the article I realized that this was probably not something I was going to be able to bring back, but it was really cool none the less.

The exhibition featured dolls that were each made especially for the exhibit by various designers and famous brands ranging from Christian Dior to Ikea in order to come together and raise money to help support unicef, the organization that provides aid to children in need.

The doll on the left was designed by Christian Dior

I hadn't really been to see the either Grand or Petit Palais up close yet, so I thought that this would be a good reason to finally make it over there, but the exhibit was only on display from Nov. 10-15 so I had to act quickly.

I totally loved this, and any little girl would have been in heaven! I have been to so many museums lately where you just walk around and look at the painting and after a while, for me at least, they all start to blend together and who knows who painted what and when. But this was like a different type of art, and of course it combined my love of fashion, so what was there not to enjoy. I thought it was awesome how each designer obviously had their own take on the task at hand. No two dolls were similar. Some were detailed and meticulously crafted, while others were simple and looked like something you would see in any little girl's room. I took lots of pictures so enjoy!

Gotta give it up for my main man Oscar de la Renta!

Even renowned lingerie designer Chantal Thomas made a doll!

This was my favorite doll! Designed by Georgio Armani

Life in Paris is Still Life...

So far pretty much everything that I have written about in this blog has been about my amazing experiences and all the fun that I have been having here in Paris. But I must admit, life in Paris is still life... not everything is perfect and there are still bad days and even bad weeks. I have had a little bit of trouble adjusting to this fact and letting myself be ok with the fact that I don't have to love every single aspect of Paris or be happy at all times. So in the spirit of keeping an accurate account of my adventures here in Paris, it is now time for me to share my experience from this past weekend even though it isn't happy and isn't going to make you jealous...

First of all I would like to preface this by saying that I have not enjoyed living alone. I like my apartment and I like the neighborhood, I love that I am so close to the school, but I would give these things up to have a roommate that I could come home to in a heartbeat.

That being said, this weekend I was feeling a little lonely so my friend Caitlin offered to sleep over last night. And thank God she did.

On our way home from the bars, around 1:30, not too late considering it was a Saturday night we were riding the metro, which has always seemed very safe to me because there is always an abundance of people riding with you. Anyways when we changed trains to make the final leg of the journey home, we happened to get on a car with about 10 young men, somewhat thuggish in appearance and behavior, most likely from the banlieue (suburbs outside Paris, not nice as a general rule) Anyways, one of them approached Caitlin and me and started talking to us and when we ignored him he got offended and persisted with us, becoming more and more creepy and threatening in his stance. He was smoking a cigarette and holding it in my face so I told him in French that I am allergic to the smoke and to please move his cigarette. His reply... taking long drag and blowing the smoke in our faces. After this, Caitlin and I decided to get off of the train, but he stood in our way so that we would have to physically push past him in order to get off. Once we were off we moved down to the next car so that there would be some distance between us. Then when we went to get off at our stop we could see them looking out the doors to see where we were so we stayed on the train until the whistle sounded to signify that the doors were closing and we jumped off, making sure that they were all behind the closed doors of the train.

This was definitely one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me and I was very disheartened by the whole thing. I couldn't stop thinking, "What if I had been alone?" Sure there were other people on the train and I really think that they guy was just trying to show off in front of his friends, but I didn't see anyone attempt to help or stop the situation.

I am usually pretty ok with the idea of taking the metro at night especially since the alternative is a taxi, which costs more than most of my meals, but I know that from now on I will not be foregoing my safety to save and extra 15€, and come to think about it, it's rather concerning that this is even something that I would have done in the first place.

Sorry for the bummer post.

Hill

Art of Travel: Love Affair With Georges

Of course, Paris is home to tons of amazing restaurants, but last weekend I had the chance to go to one that I felt has something special above the rest. And when I say “above,” that is literally what I mean…

“Georges” is the name of the restaurant that sits on the top floor of the George Pompidou Centre. I had heard good reviews about this restaurant from several people, including some Parisians, so I have been dying to go but waiting for the right occasion since it is definitely on the pricey side.

When my friend’s parents arrived last Sunday morning and wanted to take us out to dinner that night, we decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to try it out; that, and on top of that it was one of the only nice restaurants on our list that was actually open on Sundays.

When I reached the top floor and got out of the elevator, I was immediately in love. The view was simply spectacular. As you walk down the corridor to the entrance of the restaurant, you come to the terrace, which would probably be the optimal dining location, weather permitting, before you actually enter the restaurant. When I got inside I was escorted through the modernly chic room to the table where my friend and her family were waiting. The room is completely enclosed by glass walls, so no matter where you sit, you are privy to a 360-degree view of the city.

The restaurant fits in completely with the modern art that is housed in this museum. The ceiling is brightly painted with exposed air vents and beams and there are these giant cave-like structures placed around the large room that are painted silver. Inside these structures are larger tables, of the most unusual shapes, where you would sit if you had an exceptionally large party, or were of particular importance.

The tables are sleek and even sexy, each with a tall vase containing a single, long stemmed rose and instead of a candle there is a light that dimly beams from inside the table. The wait staff is equally sleek and sexy, and to be honest, I wouldn’t expect anything less.

After eating one of the best meals I have had since I have been here in Paris, (wine, truffle ravioli in a cream sauce, and cheesecake 10x better than what we have in America) gazing over the city, pointing out all the landmarks we could find, and “ohhing and ahhing” as we watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle in the distance, I couldn’t have felt more satisfied.

This wasn’t my first rooftop dining experience, as I went to “Le Zyriab,” which is on the roof of the Institute du Monde Arabe (and which I would also highly recommend) with a group of my friends to celebrate one of their birthdays; however, there was just something about “Georges.” Maybe because I am a sucker for ambiance and atmosphere, or perhaps it was because there was a much younger scene at “George” but whatever it was, it just clicked for me and I really hope I will be able to go back before I leave.

Moulin Rouge

This week my friend Cassie's parents are in town. They were nice enough to invite Caitlin and me to come along with them for a soirée à la Moulin Rouge.

The Moulin Rouge is a traditional French cabaret and it is QUITE the show. There are probably somewhere around 40 girls total in the cast and even a group of male dancers as well, which I was not expecting. The show consists of several acts, including the infamous Can-Can, filled with the most outrageous costumes and choreography that you have ever seen! And in between the big acts, there are little acts that come out, presumably while the sets and costumes are being changed. These acts included a Juggler, a Ventriloquist, and a rag doll duo.

I know that you probably think that the Moulin Rouge is sleazy, most people consider it to be more along the lines of a strip club, but that is not it at all. Yes, the girls are topless at some points, but for the most part is a normal show, that showcases all of these peoples' extraordinary talents.

In one of the acts there are live snakes in a tank and one of the dancers swims around with them. Another act has real, live, miniature ponies. And the ventriloquist makes a live dog look like it is talking.

My favorite part of the show had to be the costumes. Despite the somewhat risqué nature, all I wanted was my own chance to try them on! The best way I can describe them is like a vegas showgirl on crack. Huge headdresses, feathers, beads, glitter, they were INCREDIBLE. I wish that I could have taken some pictures, but unfortunately they don't let you bring camera's inside.

What's even more amazing to me is that I have heard from multiple Parisians that the Moulin

Rouge is actually not even the best of all the cabarets here in the city. Two different people

have told us that the Lido, on the Champs Élysées is the best, so Cassie and are buying tickets to see that one in a couple weeks!

Art of Travel: Weekend Delight

The open-air markets that come around every weekend have been something I have truly enjoyed during my time here in Paris. These markets have a large spectrum of wares and I have enjoyed learning about what each one has to offer as I have done my weekend explorations.

The markets range from high-end flea markets selling second hand designer merchandise, to garage sale-like markets with random junk for you to sift through, and of course fresh food markets where farmers bring in all the freshest produce and other quality food items.

One of the first markets that I heard about and wanted to explore was the St. Ouen flea market in one of the northern banlieues (suburbs) of Paris. This is actually the largest flea market in the world and composed of several small markets, each with its own unique feel and specialty. To get to the market you have to get off the metro at Porte Cligancourt, which to be honest, is definitely not the nicest area. It was a little tricky to find, with all of the vendors, selling crap reminiscent to that of china town, surrounding it trying to sell their wares to confused tourists. Once you get beyond the doors to one of the actual markets, it’s as if you are entering a completely different world. These markets sell everything from vintage furs to old books, from Chanel to antique furniture. You could never explore all of the markets in one day, but it is certainly worth the trip.

Last weekend some of my friends and I ventured to an area in the 13^th arrondissement, called Butte aux Cailles where we were told that we would be able to find some cute boutiques and specialty shops. It was an adorable little area to walk around but there actually wasn’t much in the way of cute shops however we did end up stumbling upon a random little market that resembled more of a community wide garage sale to me. Just like any garage sale, you had to hunt to find the treasures but they were certainly there and the prices were right. I came away with an antique looking bracelet for a mere 12€.

Finally there are the fantastic food markets. I went to the Marchée d’Aligre in the Bastille area this weekend and I would highly recommend it; however, on the weekends, you can find one in just about every arrondissement. Until recently, buying produce from a grocery store was completely unheard of in France. Everyone went to his or her local market to get all the freshest fruits and veggies direct from the farmers. While today it is more common and even acceptable to purchase your produce from the store, most people still frequent these markets. The produce is always extremely ripe and direct from the source, so the prices might be a little higher than what you see at the store but definitely worth it. However, buyers beware: it’s easy to get excited by all of the tasty looking things in these markets, but being overzealous when making your purchases can leave you with a whole lot of rotten fruits and vegetables before the next weekend even comes around. Because everything is so ripe and delicious, it will not keep for very long; so only buy what you are actually going to eat.

French Rock Concert

For one of my classes we have this thing called an "atelier" (workshop), which consists of a separate two hour class once a week. For the atelier we are basically doing a cultural exchange with one of the French Universities here is Paris where we get put into groups of 6 (half French half American) and we have to make a bilingual movie together. Really fun actually and perfect for my other goals involving French friends.

Earlier in the semester as we were introducing ourselves, one of the boys in my group told us that he is in a band and invited all of us to come see the concert that they were having in a few weeks.

Tonight was the night of the concert, so I went with my friend Cassie after our class. It was a really cool experience, although possibly not quite what I was envisioning. We arrived at 8PM, since that was the time it was advertised for (although, to be honest we should have known better having lived in Paris for 2 months now) Of course they didn't start playing until about 9:45PM. The venue was pretty cool, very underground Parisian, near Les Halles. However the bar was really crappy (unacceptable for a concert) they didn't even have limes for Cassie's vodka tonic... come 'on now! Once they started playing, I enjoyed hearing my friends band, which was very Rock and Roll. I have to say that ultimately I don't think that French and Rock go together. The group definitely has a lot of talent I just don't think that the French language goes with the Rock sound... but the covers of American Rock songs that they played were really great and Cassie and I had fun singing along (since we knew all the words)!!

It was definitely a fun and different for us. One of those very authentic Parisian experiences that only comes with having French friends to invite you to said events. I obviously was very happy and felt really cool to be there, especially since we were definitely the only Americans there!

Art of Travel: The Unexpected Obstacle Course

For my first reading for this class, I chose a book that gave a woman’s perspective on living in France for a year, so for my second choice, I decided to read a very similar story; however, from and man’s perspective. I originally thought that it would fun to compare the different perspectives of a man and woman who plan to spend a year in France. I also have to say that I was drawn to the book as well as highly intrigued by the title, A Year in the Merde (which translates to a year in the “shit”).

I couldn’t help but laugh when I realized that in part, the “merde” to which the author is referring is literally dog poop. It’s true; the dog poop here in Paris is quite the problem. Paris is definitely one of the most dog friendly cities in the world and don’t get me wrong, I love the pooches (and honestly wish I had one of my own here with me) but it’s the owners who I have a problem with.

Like the main character of the book, Paul West, I too have noticed that you can’t walk anywhere without going through the obstacle course of dog feces that litters the sidewalks. Also like Paul, I am highly disinterested in ruining my shoes after stepping in it, so I am constantly watching the ground, making sure that I don’t accidentally step into an unwanted surprise, which is a rather unfortunate thing to be doing when you are in a city with as many beautiful things to see as Paris.

I have decided to just accept the presence of dog poop as just yet another part of the Parisians’ blatant disregard for sidewalk etiquette. (i.e. stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, taking up the entire sidewalk, and of course, refusing to follow the “keep to the right” rule.) They just don’t clean up after their pets, despite the fact that there is a law against it and the owner faces a $600 fine if they are caught (not that there is ever anyone around to catch them…). Half the time they don’t even keep their dogs on a leash so how would they even know what the precious creature has left in its wake.

The city employs thousands of street sweepers who are supposed to take care of these little presents, but somehow it’s still a huge problem in everyday life and if these workers go on strike, you can just forget about it might as well slip on some of those little booties that you have to wear in the hospital.