You'd THINK France would be filled with stellar bicycles, because it hosts the Tour de France. You really would.
...and you'd be wrong.
So I made it to Pontorson without issue - it's really quite a quaint little town. A bit touristy, but hey -- it's near Mont Saint-Michel. It's too be expected.
Found my hostel, it's got no kitchen and no wifi, by the way. Found the place to rent bicycles, convieniently right across the street. Perfect. Got a bicycle for 24 hours for only €10. Even better.
...3 kilometres into using it, the chain falls off. Fine, I fix it. It falls off again. I fix it again...and then I notice that there's an awful lot of slack in the chain.
Yeah. The bike I rented: looks okay, actually looks like a proper bike, you know - not one of these silly vélib things that France seems to love so much. Brakes work okay, tires aren't bald. Good enough. I start riding - the chain has too many links in it, the gears only shift into two of the 18 speeds it's got, and it's the two hardest gears. Oh, and the rear derailleur actually broke on me during my ride. The little cog at the rear of the derailleur that feeds the chain back towards the pedals...I touched it, and the plastic teeth crumbled under my fingers. There's a huge crack in it, and I'm surprised it hasn't fallen off yet.
With all that, I've still managed to put 30 kilometres on that thing. I got into town, got a bike, and found the trail (rather by accident) to Mont Saint-Michel. So I rode all the way there (it's 10 km away), stared at it, went to the marché (store) and then rode back. Found out my hostel doesn't have wifi, and grabbed my laptop and my phone and rode off in search of wifi. I'm 3 miles out of Pontorson right now, at a MacDonalds, and I ordered a beer - which tastes awful, but there. I did it. I ordered beer at MacDonalds.
I'm not going to drink the rest of it, but whatever. I still have to ride back to the hostel tonight, too. That's dedication right there. Tomorrow morning I'm riding back to Mont Saint-Michel to actually visit the monastery, and then I'm off to Saint-Malo, where I'll actually be sleeping in a REAL bed in a HOTEL! I'm pretty excited.
PS: Oh hell. McD's wifi is too slow for me to add photos. Guess you'll have to wait until tomorrow night.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
A day by train
I completely forgot to mention yesterday that we drove along part of the road belonging to the Tour de France. I don't know HOW I forgot - it was practically the highlight of my day the other day...and I forgot. THE TOUR DE FRANCE!
But there are definitely worse ways to spend one's day. I'm sitting in the deliciously warm sunshine outside the Rennes Gare, waiting for a connecting train to Pontorson (aka, Mont Saint Michel) - you know, that benedictine monastery from the 13th century that's only accessible at low tide? Yeah, that. I'm staying in a town 9km from the monastery, and I'm going to spend my evening trying to locate a place that will rent me a bike for tomorrow.
For the geographically challenged, I was in Auvergne in the middle of France this morning, and 4 transfers by train later, I'm now in Brittany. And it's pretty beautiful, I gotta say. Not that I'm really aware of what the landscape looked like between here and Le Mans - I fell asleep. But such is life - I passed fields of sunflowers and corn and wheat in the earlier part of my trip, and let's just say, the scenery has been incredibly easy on the eyes.
I've got two hours or so to kill, and I found some free wifi, so I'm trying to charge my iPod, as it died exactly one song before my Mumford and Sons album finished. How dare my iPod interrupt Mumford and Sons like that (I can picture Damon saying something like "Oh hell yeah, Mumford and Sons).
I decided to try a quiche lorraine for lunch...they're gross. I ate it anyhow, and I'm still trying to decide if it was a mistake or not.
Anyhow, this is just a quickie to give myself something to do while waiting for the train - I walked around the train station a little bit, but my bag is rather heavy now, with mead and honey, and I don't feel like walking very far.
Hopefully I find a bike tonight!
But there are definitely worse ways to spend one's day. I'm sitting in the deliciously warm sunshine outside the Rennes Gare, waiting for a connecting train to Pontorson (aka, Mont Saint Michel) - you know, that benedictine monastery from the 13th century that's only accessible at low tide? Yeah, that. I'm staying in a town 9km from the monastery, and I'm going to spend my evening trying to locate a place that will rent me a bike for tomorrow.
For the geographically challenged, I was in Auvergne in the middle of France this morning, and 4 transfers by train later, I'm now in Brittany. And it's pretty beautiful, I gotta say. Not that I'm really aware of what the landscape looked like between here and Le Mans - I fell asleep. But such is life - I passed fields of sunflowers and corn and wheat in the earlier part of my trip, and let's just say, the scenery has been incredibly easy on the eyes.
I've got two hours or so to kill, and I found some free wifi, so I'm trying to charge my iPod, as it died exactly one song before my Mumford and Sons album finished. How dare my iPod interrupt Mumford and Sons like that (I can picture Damon saying something like "Oh hell yeah, Mumford and Sons).
I decided to try a quiche lorraine for lunch...they're gross. I ate it anyhow, and I'm still trying to decide if it was a mistake or not.
Anyhow, this is just a quickie to give myself something to do while waiting for the train - I walked around the train station a little bit, but my bag is rather heavy now, with mead and honey, and I don't feel like walking very far.
Hopefully I find a bike tonight!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Train issues, window shopping, and more
I'm just letting it be known, that the France rail network is retarded.
Okay, so I bought a pass. I managed to get from Calais - Amiens, Amiens - Paris, you know, the normal way you would with a pass. Hop on, get pass checked, carry on as normal. From Paris - Clermont-Ferrand, I find out I'm supposed to be reserving seats. Since this was my first non-TGV train trip, I figure 'okay, I can deal with this. It's only for regional trains.' ...I pay €15 euro to stay on the train, fine. I get it reimbursed later because my train CAUGHT ON FIRE. Fine. I can still deal with this.
I try to LEAVE Clermont this morning...and I can't. Like, I literally can't. I went in the morning to the train station to reserve a seat on a train in the afternoon, and I got told I couldn't because even though there was still seats on the train, you couldn't reserve them. I was also told that even though there was still seats on the train, I couldn't just hop on, or pay a little extra to take one of those seats...or anything. WHY the fuck do you have EXTRA seats on a train, that you can only get on by reserving, if you cannot reserve them?
Yeah.
Fuck you, SNCF. So I tried other destinations - Lyon, Marseilles, Paris, etc. Nope. No dice there either. So finally, we check (and I say 'we' because Vio was nice enough to come and help translate for me, because I had no bloody idea how to say all these things in French. I could ask for a reservation, but beyond that...my French would have failed me.) ...so we check for tomorrow. And I can reserve, but only for a train at 7:40 in the morning. Fine. I make the reservation, and get my tickets, and go on my slightly-less-than-merry way.
The ONLY plus side to all of this is that I get to A) spend an extra day with Vio, and B) go straight to Pontorson in the north of France (Bretagne) instead of spending the night in Rennes and traveling to Pontorson in the morning, like the original plan was. But seriously. I hope someone from SNCF randomly comes across my blog when searching for something, and reads about what idiots they are. Yeah, I said it. SNCF, you are idiots.
So yeah. I haven't posted in a couple of days, and I'm well due to show off some photos. It's been an interesting couple of days, mainly train-disaster related, but Clermont-Fd has been gorgeous and fantastic, and seeing Vio has been great (and Bruno as well, who is a darling!) ...my last couple days in a rather long nutshell, because let's face it, I don't do anything with few words!
June 28: Train disaster aside, the day ended pretty well. Violaine had beer waiting for us at the apartment, and after what may possibly have been the best shower of my life, we drank beer, and then some wine, and then we went for a walk to a créperie and I had some fantastic food. I'm surprised I'm not fat yet. Food here is divine, and I will maintain that point until I leave France. I've not had a bad thing yet - though, I've tried a few weirder items that I wasn't too fond of (cured ham, for instance - or St. Nectaire cheese) ...France has these little pickles that are delicious, but nevermind. I ordered a crépe with rataouille in it! Apparently, cider goes with crépes, and we drank a bottle of pear cider (and if I ever see a bottle anywhere in the world for sale, I'll be buying several) ...it was like fizzy pear water. With alcohol. C'est fantastique.
I need to find a new word to use.
June 29: We got up and left the house "early" at 10:30am - by the way, french yogurt is delicious. I ate it with some homemade honey from Vio and some organic muesli. I swear, this is practically a food blog with all the time I spend talking about food. The highlight of France so far: food. No lies.
Bruno took the day off work, and the three of us took a daytrip out in the French countryside of Auvergne, (the name of the district we're in) and we stopped in a little village called Orcival and saw a little cathedral made out of black stones local to the area - instead of the little red shingles I've seen everywhere, this area of France uses black stones (looks similar to black shale, but it isn't shale - I think it's some kind of volcanic, but I genuinely have no idea what) and we found a little trail up a hill to a giant cross, and I FOUND FROGS! ...and I subsequently caught frogs. Yay frogs!
There's tons of stinging nettle in France too - it's everywhere. Disgusting stuff. Speaking of disgusting, it was disgustingly hot for most of yesterday. In the middle of the afternoon, we got a crazy little thundershower, and then a full-on thunderstorm later in the evening. It poured most of the night. Today has been cooler and cloudier - still warm, but much better. My increasingly tanned skin was grateful.
After Orcival, we drove to a lake called Serviéres, and soaked our poor hot feet, and it was really pretty. Then we drove to another little town called Chambon-Sur-Lac, and ate lunch at a lake (which is when it started to rain) - more lakes, I know - and then we drove to Murol, to see a medieval castle on top of a hill, and a reenactment play - show - thing. It was amusing, though I couldn't understand all the words, and I got volunteered to go up and put on some armour, but I vehemently refused to go. There was NO way I was going up in front of an entire class of school children, PLUS other people, to volunteer to do something entirely in French, when I couldn't understand all of what was being said. It was CRAZY hot out too, I could feel sweat dripping down the backs of my knees - which is really the sign of it being way too hot.
Oh, more food related things: I tried a tomato called coeur de boeuf - SO tasty. I ate it like an apple. The whole huge thing. And I tried a FIG yesterday. A real and proper FRESH fig. I've never seen one in my entire life. A FIG. I liked it.
After Murol, we were practically perishing of heat, so we headed back to Chambon, and found a beach on the other side of the lake. I'd say we went for a swim, but let's be serious. I can't swim - so I went for a...sit-down in the shallow end. It was refreshing and awesome. And I saw a toilet that you have to stand up to use! I refused to use it. It was weird.
We had more delicious food for dinner, Bruno cooked some chicken with rosemary and other herbs, and I tried the single best wine of my life. A bottle of 2003 red bordeaux (I say red, because I don't know if you can have white bordeaux or not) ...and some pretty tasty cheese. Cantal? I'm going to buy some before I leave France and bring it home. Imagine sharp English white cheddar...but French and local to the region I'm staying in right now. DIVINE.
This morning is when all the irksome train crap happened - but it wasn't a bad day overall. Vio and I went shopping in the city centre - France is having some serious summer sales right now, and we found a hippie store that sells hippie clothes, and we spent forever trying on pants. People with hourglass bodies are cursed - neither of us found anything that fit properly. I bought a few small sundries at some other stores (french soap and the such) ...and I cooked dinner for them. I made vegetable stirfry with sesame oil, and for dessert I made...wait for it:
Pear. Banana. Ginger. Chocolate. Crumble.
Needless to say, I'm taking the recipe home with me. Tomorrow? Drag my sorry ass all the way across the country to the north coast. I wish I hadn't finished my book.
PS: Here's some of the photos that I wanted to add to the last post but didn't bother -->
Okay, so I bought a pass. I managed to get from Calais - Amiens, Amiens - Paris, you know, the normal way you would with a pass. Hop on, get pass checked, carry on as normal. From Paris - Clermont-Ferrand, I find out I'm supposed to be reserving seats. Since this was my first non-TGV train trip, I figure 'okay, I can deal with this. It's only for regional trains.' ...I pay €15 euro to stay on the train, fine. I get it reimbursed later because my train CAUGHT ON FIRE. Fine. I can still deal with this.
I try to LEAVE Clermont this morning...and I can't. Like, I literally can't. I went in the morning to the train station to reserve a seat on a train in the afternoon, and I got told I couldn't because even though there was still seats on the train, you couldn't reserve them. I was also told that even though there was still seats on the train, I couldn't just hop on, or pay a little extra to take one of those seats...or anything. WHY the fuck do you have EXTRA seats on a train, that you can only get on by reserving, if you cannot reserve them?
Yeah.
Fuck you, SNCF. So I tried other destinations - Lyon, Marseilles, Paris, etc. Nope. No dice there either. So finally, we check (and I say 'we' because Vio was nice enough to come and help translate for me, because I had no bloody idea how to say all these things in French. I could ask for a reservation, but beyond that...my French would have failed me.) ...so we check for tomorrow. And I can reserve, but only for a train at 7:40 in the morning. Fine. I make the reservation, and get my tickets, and go on my slightly-less-than-merry way.
The ONLY plus side to all of this is that I get to A) spend an extra day with Vio, and B) go straight to Pontorson in the north of France (Bretagne) instead of spending the night in Rennes and traveling to Pontorson in the morning, like the original plan was. But seriously. I hope someone from SNCF randomly comes across my blog when searching for something, and reads about what idiots they are. Yeah, I said it. SNCF, you are idiots.
So yeah. I haven't posted in a couple of days, and I'm well due to show off some photos. It's been an interesting couple of days, mainly train-disaster related, but Clermont-Fd has been gorgeous and fantastic, and seeing Vio has been great (and Bruno as well, who is a darling!) ...my last couple days in a rather long nutshell, because let's face it, I don't do anything with few words!
June 28: Train disaster aside, the day ended pretty well. Violaine had beer waiting for us at the apartment, and after what may possibly have been the best shower of my life, we drank beer, and then some wine, and then we went for a walk to a créperie and I had some fantastic food. I'm surprised I'm not fat yet. Food here is divine, and I will maintain that point until I leave France. I've not had a bad thing yet - though, I've tried a few weirder items that I wasn't too fond of (cured ham, for instance - or St. Nectaire cheese) ...France has these little pickles that are delicious, but nevermind. I ordered a crépe with rataouille in it! Apparently, cider goes with crépes, and we drank a bottle of pear cider (and if I ever see a bottle anywhere in the world for sale, I'll be buying several) ...it was like fizzy pear water. With alcohol. C'est fantastique.
I need to find a new word to use.
June 29: We got up and left the house "early" at 10:30am - by the way, french yogurt is delicious. I ate it with some homemade honey from Vio and some organic muesli. I swear, this is practically a food blog with all the time I spend talking about food. The highlight of France so far: food. No lies.
Bruno took the day off work, and the three of us took a daytrip out in the French countryside of Auvergne, (the name of the district we're in) and we stopped in a little village called Orcival and saw a little cathedral made out of black stones local to the area - instead of the little red shingles I've seen everywhere, this area of France uses black stones (looks similar to black shale, but it isn't shale - I think it's some kind of volcanic, but I genuinely have no idea what) and we found a little trail up a hill to a giant cross, and I FOUND FROGS! ...and I subsequently caught frogs. Yay frogs!
There's tons of stinging nettle in France too - it's everywhere. Disgusting stuff. Speaking of disgusting, it was disgustingly hot for most of yesterday. In the middle of the afternoon, we got a crazy little thundershower, and then a full-on thunderstorm later in the evening. It poured most of the night. Today has been cooler and cloudier - still warm, but much better. My increasingly tanned skin was grateful.
After Orcival, we drove to a lake called Serviéres, and soaked our poor hot feet, and it was really pretty. Then we drove to another little town called Chambon-Sur-Lac, and ate lunch at a lake (which is when it started to rain) - more lakes, I know - and then we drove to Murol, to see a medieval castle on top of a hill, and a reenactment play - show - thing. It was amusing, though I couldn't understand all the words, and I got volunteered to go up and put on some armour, but I vehemently refused to go. There was NO way I was going up in front of an entire class of school children, PLUS other people, to volunteer to do something entirely in French, when I couldn't understand all of what was being said. It was CRAZY hot out too, I could feel sweat dripping down the backs of my knees - which is really the sign of it being way too hot.
Oh, more food related things: I tried a tomato called coeur de boeuf - SO tasty. I ate it like an apple. The whole huge thing. And I tried a FIG yesterday. A real and proper FRESH fig. I've never seen one in my entire life. A FIG. I liked it.
After Murol, we were practically perishing of heat, so we headed back to Chambon, and found a beach on the other side of the lake. I'd say we went for a swim, but let's be serious. I can't swim - so I went for a...sit-down in the shallow end. It was refreshing and awesome. And I saw a toilet that you have to stand up to use! I refused to use it. It was weird.
We had more delicious food for dinner, Bruno cooked some chicken with rosemary and other herbs, and I tried the single best wine of my life. A bottle of 2003 red bordeaux (I say red, because I don't know if you can have white bordeaux or not) ...and some pretty tasty cheese. Cantal? I'm going to buy some before I leave France and bring it home. Imagine sharp English white cheddar...but French and local to the region I'm staying in right now. DIVINE.
This morning is when all the irksome train crap happened - but it wasn't a bad day overall. Vio and I went shopping in the city centre - France is having some serious summer sales right now, and we found a hippie store that sells hippie clothes, and we spent forever trying on pants. People with hourglass bodies are cursed - neither of us found anything that fit properly. I bought a few small sundries at some other stores (french soap and the such) ...and I cooked dinner for them. I made vegetable stirfry with sesame oil, and for dessert I made...wait for it:
Pear. Banana. Ginger. Chocolate. Crumble.
Needless to say, I'm taking the recipe home with me. Tomorrow? Drag my sorry ass all the way across the country to the north coast. I wish I hadn't finished my book.
PS: Here's some of the photos that I wanted to add to the last post but didn't bother -->
Monday, June 27, 2011
Today blew.
I wish it would snow.
I took a daytrip out to Auvers-Sur-Oise yesterday, and the weather was beautifully clear, but painfully hot. I think it was over 30 celcius – maybe 30-35C? ...believe it or not, but today is hotter. I don’t know the temperature, but I was sweating through my clothes by 7AM this morning. The shower helped for about 5 minutes. And my shoulders are burnt pretty good – I’ve not managed to burn anything really at all my entire trip thus far, but I wore my new dress yesterday, and it shows off the back of my shoulders, and next thing I knew, they were bright red. I guess my arms are more tolerant to sunshine than my virgin upper body. I suppose I have years of farmer’s tans to thank for that. Anyhow, wearing my backpack today as I travel is excruciating. Romain was kind enough to offer me some French medication for burns (I can’t remember the name, but the ingredient list has avocado oil in it, which I thought was odd.) Anyhow, I applied it twice before I left this morning, and it’s helped a little, but the (now quite heavy) backpack straps on my shoulders hurts quite a bit.
As I write this, I am on a train travelling to Clermont-Ferrand to see Violaine, a friend of mine I worked with in the arctic in 2008. I’m sitting on the floor of the train, wondering consistently when I will either be kicked off the train for not having a reservation, or forced to pay extra because I don’t have a reservation. Railpass or not, apparently I still need to reserve for trains that aren’t TGV trains (TGV trains are the super fast ones, and I am most certainly not on one of them) ...so this might be an interesting three and a half hour train ride – my bum hurts already and I’m only 20 minutes in. Obviously, since I have no internet on the train, I’ll have finished the trip and be in Clermont-Ferrand by the time I am able to post this, so I might have extra added stuff at the bottom for things that happen later in the day. I’m only doing this now to stave off the desire to pass out caused by the lack of air conditioning in this part of the train. It is sweltering hot, and my poor arctic body is not used to it.
Auvers-Sur-Oise yesterday was fantastic. The weather was beautiful, and I managed to catch a direct train there – it’s a suburb of Paris, by the way – or it used to be. Think of it like living in Vancouver and catching a one hour train out to...Langely, or Surrey, or Coquitlam, or something. I make a point to stress the fact that the train was direct, because the train coming back into Paris was not, and it took me two hours to get back.
For those not in the know, Auvers-Sur-Oise is the resting place of Vincent Van Gogh and his brother, Théo – and home to his famous church painting (you know, the one I snapped a photo of in the Musée D’Orsay – that’s the L’Eligse Auvers-Sur-Oise ...and since I am mildly obsessed with him, of course I made the journey out to visit his grave, and see the church, and see the Auberge Ravoux – the place he lived in before he committed suicide. I was annoyed that it cost me €6 just to see the room AND not be allowed to take photos, but damn it, I wanted to see it!
Nothing else cost me money that day, though – except food, obviously – so it wasn’t a bad deal, I suppose. I walked up a little road to the church, and took a few photos, I did not go in further than the threshold of the church, because service was just ending, and I didn’t want to rudely interrupt anyone with faith strong enough to actually attend church. From the church, there was another little road with signs leading up to the Cemetérie, and it led me through picture-perfect yellow wheat fields filled with red poppies, and other little flowers. I kept getting these stupid little bugs on me though, and they were freaking me out – some small little black wormy bug things that kept falling from under the trees and crawling on me – I spent all day yesterday killing them as I found them in various spots on my body. I don’t think they bite, because I did not get any bites, but...they were creepy. Je n’aime pas.
It didn’t take me long to find the graves one I entered the cemetery – I had seen them in a documentary once, and so it was almost like I had been there before, visiting for a second time. I recognized the church at the angle Van Gogh painted it at, and I recognized the corner of the cemetery where Vincent and Théo rested. I picked him a little red poppy and put it on his tombstone, and I watered the flowers that somebody had planted there with the rest of the water in my bottle.
From there, I just wandered around – I found a forest (a proper forest!) and more wheat fields, and even some chickens and a lizard. I got thoroughly lost on some backstreet, and saw a plant that literally made me suck in my breath and forget to breathe altogether. I still have to look it up, but some plants have, I guess, dopplegangers, and this plant is one of those. One of them is perfectly harmless, and the other can cause blindness if the pollen so much as blows in the wind – I’m going to research it later.
I found a shop that sells sorbet (crème glace sans lactose!) and my lunch consisted entirely of a little tub of sorbet and a pistachio brioche. My god, I love brioche. I need to learn how to make it when I get home...and then I will need to find people who will taste it! I was very sunburned by then, and I spent the afternoon in a park in the shade reading the remainder of my novel I brought – I finished it, boo. =( ...I wasn’t able to go back to the apartment until 10:30 because Romain had viola practice, so when I got back to Paris I just wandered around. I got hit on and momentarily stalked by a creepy dude – I had to round a block in order to lose him. I walked past him on the street and he started talking to me, so I spoke too – and then he was asking me all sorts of questions like what arrondíssement I was staying in, and what street, and where, and what I was doing for dinner, and I told him I was staying in the 11th, but when he asked for more information, I told him he didn’t need to know, and that I had to go meet a friend for dinner (I lied) and I was going to be late if I didn’t hurry. He didn’t leave me alone then, though – and started after me, so I rounded the block real quick and looped back, and then walked off in a different direction from where I had started from. I was genuinely a little bit concerned for my well-being. Obviously, I’m fine now.
I found a pizza shop, which I thought was a godsend – NORMAL food, my goodness! ...but all it did was upset my stomach. I think I might swear off pizza – it hurts my stomach almost every time I eat it and I don’t know why, or why I keep persisting if all it does is upset my stomach. That shit’s harder to give up than cheesecake was.
The train superintendent (or whatever) guy has just come past, and I had to pay an extra €15 just to STAY on the train, what the hell.
Overall though, Paris was good. I didn’t see HALF of what I wanted to, but I got to do other interesting and fun things too – and Romain was a gracious and excellent host – I hope I didn’t annoy him terribly too much with my presence. I’ll definitely have to come back to Paris one day and catch up on all the things I never got to see. Obviously, when I write these things, I tend to leave out the more blasé parts about Paris - how all the metro stations have the faint smell of stale urine, for instance – or precisely how difficult it is for me to communicate in French. I know just enough French to get my point across, but not nearly enough to not sound like a moron doing it. Par example, I mixed up two verb conjugates for two days before I realized. So when I was trying to say “I have” I was saying “I go” ...I felt positively retarded when I remembered them properly. I also don’t really mention how lonely it is to be unable to communicate to other people easily – it was an easier time in Paris, because it is so touristy, but not many people in France can actually converse in the English language. I don’t really like that part, and I wish I had a better command of the French language to be able to say more, or to understand people when they speak fast.
Oh, and one more thing: Mom, I spent TWO hours walking around Paris this morning trying to find a stupid little shop that I didn’t have the stupid address to, so that I could buy you a stupid little gift, and then when I finally found it, the gift I wanted to get was over-the-top stupid expensive...but I found something that I could afford, and you’ll really like. And no, it’s not a coffee cup. And no, I’m not telling you what it is.
Bon journée, peeps! This is all you get for now - it took me 6 hours to get into Clermont-Ferrand, and now it's well past midnight as Violaine, Bruno, and myself went for dinner - oh, my train caught on fire, by the way. Yeah, a good time was had by no one - a 3 hour train became a 6 hour train with no a/c, and we were stuck two hours at a stop who's name I don't recall. Oh, did I mention my TRAIN caught on FIRE?
Yeah. More posts tomorrow. Goodnight.
PS: You can have pictures tomorrow. Not of the train on fire though, I don't have any.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Paris. 'nough said.
Traffic in Paris is CRAZY. I don't mean like "crossing the Port Mann in rush hour" crazy, but a whole new level of crazy unidentifyable with anything we have in Canada. Nobody pays attention to the lights! Not pedestrians, not drivers, not bicycles, not vespa's. And yes - vespa's are everywhere.
Tons of people cycle - it's amazing. I've seen a woman in high heels cycling through the streets, and men in business suits, and women with baguettes strapped to their rear racks (as opposed to their front racks, which are entirely different things!) ...and even the children have a better taste in clothing than I do. I feel like a dirty bum walking the chic streets of Paris.
Paris itself is amazing, too. A giant sprawling cacophony of ancient beige buildings and brilliant architecture. I was here for two hours before I decided that I want to visit again, and perhaps three hours before I decided I wanted to live here. Permanently. There are patisserie's and boulangerie's and brasserie's on every corner (that would be pastry maker, baker, and bar for you peeps that parlez anglais) and I've eaten at all three more times than I can count. Meal-times are different, too. Not just here in Paris, of course - but it's taken this many days for things to become routine for me, and life is slowing down a bit now that I'm actually in France. Breakfast is a mid-morning ordeal, and lunch is at least an hour long. Dinner isn't until 8pm or later - it's 9:20 as I type this, and I haven't eaten dinner yet. That's completely normal.
I drank tea out of a bowl this morning. ...I'm never doing it any other way again.
The tourist sections of Paris are insane. Waiting times at popular monuments are comparable to waiting in line for the roller coaster at the PNE. Everything is expensive in the bars - €4.30 for 25cl of beer yesterday (a half pint) and there are scammers and pickpocketers loitering in the tourist areas too. I'm ashamed to admit I've been gotten twice with scams, because I'm too damned polite to realize what's happening until after. I only lost €5 though, so at least it wasn't an expensive lesson learned.
I can really see myself adjusting to the french lifestyle - me, a bonified morning person, who hasn't gotten up early than 8AM in several days (that is sleeping in for me, by the way) and who hasn't gone to bed prior to 1AM (a time which I would rather hear nothing of the sort) - it's just different here. It's normal to eat dinner at 8PM. It's normal to go for wine at 10PM, and it's normal to wake up mid-morning, and have a one hour breakfast consisting solely of tea or coffee, and some bread. It's strange, but I like it.
Anyhow - I've done a few touristy things since I've arrived. I got here yesterday around noon, and I met my couchsurfing host, Romain (you need to roll your R's to pronounce this properly - I feel bad every time I try) at his apartment and dropped off my things, and we chatted for a while, and then I went out to explore Paris. The weather has been fantastic, and it's about to get hotter. It was 29C earlier today, and it's supposed to be up to 10 degrees hotter before I leave on Monday. I immediately hopped on le Métro and made my way down to the Musée D'Orsay, home to magnificent impressionist artists, such as Monet, Van Gogh, Rodin, Manet, etc. I stood in line for 30 minutes to get into the museum, and then I spent an hour wandering around inside of it. Pictures were strictly forbidden, but when do I listen to rules? There were only two pieces I was brave enough to risk taking a photo of, and thank god for camera phones, because I would have been too scared to try with my SLR. The first one is Van Gogh's Eglise d'Auvers-sur-oise, possibly my favourite painting of all time (from my favourite painter of all time) and the second was a beautiful, yet shocking sculpture made entirely out of different forms of marble. The cloak actually looked like it was flowing, yet it was made from rock.
From there I walked around, and walked and walked and walked - and eventually ended up on the metro again, and found myself at the Eiffel Tower...and waited in another line-up. But in the end, it was worth it - I climbed all 800+ stairs of the Eiffel Tower at sunset, and then climbed back down again to take photos of the tower lit up. It was beautiful. I didn't even get back to Romain's until nearly midnight - and I got to see a guy play the accordian on the metro, until the police chased him off, anyhow.
Romain and I stayed up until 1:30 talking - why is the world filled with so many amazing people? He is a chemist, and he can play both violin and viola in the symphony, and he dances. We tango danced in his living room this morning! I think I might sense a new hobby approaching - anyone want to learn tango with me? SAY YES.
Today, I went out again today and went shopping. I bought a dress, (it's green, I'm sorry) - and it was on sale, though - I'll spare you the price tag, even on sale. It wasn't exactly cheap. I tried finding some shoes to match, but after entering two stores, I remembered I hate shoes and gave up on that endeavour. I found a local meadery, too - so...needless to say, I bought a bottle of mead.
Oh, that reminds me - my god-damned credit card declined on me. I'm going to have to call VISA and yell at them, or something. I CALLED them prior to departing and TOLD them I was going to be in France. Asshats.
I TRIED to go to the Notré Dame, but it was closed because of some new priests being ordained (also, I apologize - I let this sit for a few hours as Romain and I ate dinner, and now I have half a bottle of wine in me, so I may not be as eloquent as I was previously - I may also have more spelling mistakes) - but I got to see the cathedral at least, and it was beautiful. After that, I walked down the quai and browsed the stalls that had books - and found one entirely dedicated to SCIENCE FICTION, en français, of course - I bought the third Dune book by Frank Herbert. I'm going to translate it to help me learn French. Then I met Romain at the Mosquée du Paris, where we had morrocan mint tea, and it was apparently Gay Pride Day in Paris today, as there was well...a gay pride parade running down the middle of the street. It was interesting.
I spent the remainder of my evening sitting in a patisserie reading a book, because Romain had to practice for his symphony next Thursday and wanted some privacy - after that, I came back to the apartment where we've been ever since. We just finished a lovely pasta dinner with fresh basil, and of course, a bottle of wine. He's a wonderful conversationalist. Now, it is nearly midnight, and time for bed shortly, I believe.
Tomorrow: Auvers-Sur-Oise, the resting place of Vincent Van Gogh!
Tons of people cycle - it's amazing. I've seen a woman in high heels cycling through the streets, and men in business suits, and women with baguettes strapped to their rear racks (as opposed to their front racks, which are entirely different things!) ...and even the children have a better taste in clothing than I do. I feel like a dirty bum walking the chic streets of Paris.
Paris itself is amazing, too. A giant sprawling cacophony of ancient beige buildings and brilliant architecture. I was here for two hours before I decided that I want to visit again, and perhaps three hours before I decided I wanted to live here. Permanently. There are patisserie's and boulangerie's and brasserie's on every corner (that would be pastry maker, baker, and bar for you peeps that parlez anglais) and I've eaten at all three more times than I can count. Meal-times are different, too. Not just here in Paris, of course - but it's taken this many days for things to become routine for me, and life is slowing down a bit now that I'm actually in France. Breakfast is a mid-morning ordeal, and lunch is at least an hour long. Dinner isn't until 8pm or later - it's 9:20 as I type this, and I haven't eaten dinner yet. That's completely normal.
I drank tea out of a bowl this morning. ...I'm never doing it any other way again.
The tourist sections of Paris are insane. Waiting times at popular monuments are comparable to waiting in line for the roller coaster at the PNE. Everything is expensive in the bars - €4.30 for 25cl of beer yesterday (a half pint) and there are scammers and pickpocketers loitering in the tourist areas too. I'm ashamed to admit I've been gotten twice with scams, because I'm too damned polite to realize what's happening until after. I only lost €5 though, so at least it wasn't an expensive lesson learned.
I can really see myself adjusting to the french lifestyle - me, a bonified morning person, who hasn't gotten up early than 8AM in several days (that is sleeping in for me, by the way) and who hasn't gone to bed prior to 1AM (a time which I would rather hear nothing of the sort) - it's just different here. It's normal to eat dinner at 8PM. It's normal to go for wine at 10PM, and it's normal to wake up mid-morning, and have a one hour breakfast consisting solely of tea or coffee, and some bread. It's strange, but I like it.
Anyhow - I've done a few touristy things since I've arrived. I got here yesterday around noon, and I met my couchsurfing host, Romain (you need to roll your R's to pronounce this properly - I feel bad every time I try) at his apartment and dropped off my things, and we chatted for a while, and then I went out to explore Paris. The weather has been fantastic, and it's about to get hotter. It was 29C earlier today, and it's supposed to be up to 10 degrees hotter before I leave on Monday. I immediately hopped on le Métro and made my way down to the Musée D'Orsay, home to magnificent impressionist artists, such as Monet, Van Gogh, Rodin, Manet, etc. I stood in line for 30 minutes to get into the museum, and then I spent an hour wandering around inside of it. Pictures were strictly forbidden, but when do I listen to rules? There were only two pieces I was brave enough to risk taking a photo of, and thank god for camera phones, because I would have been too scared to try with my SLR. The first one is Van Gogh's Eglise d'Auvers-sur-oise, possibly my favourite painting of all time (from my favourite painter of all time) and the second was a beautiful, yet shocking sculpture made entirely out of different forms of marble. The cloak actually looked like it was flowing, yet it was made from rock.
From there I walked around, and walked and walked and walked - and eventually ended up on the metro again, and found myself at the Eiffel Tower...and waited in another line-up. But in the end, it was worth it - I climbed all 800+ stairs of the Eiffel Tower at sunset, and then climbed back down again to take photos of the tower lit up. It was beautiful. I didn't even get back to Romain's until nearly midnight - and I got to see a guy play the accordian on the metro, until the police chased him off, anyhow.
Romain and I stayed up until 1:30 talking - why is the world filled with so many amazing people? He is a chemist, and he can play both violin and viola in the symphony, and he dances. We tango danced in his living room this morning! I think I might sense a new hobby approaching - anyone want to learn tango with me? SAY YES.
Today, I went out again today and went shopping. I bought a dress, (it's green, I'm sorry) - and it was on sale, though - I'll spare you the price tag, even on sale. It wasn't exactly cheap. I tried finding some shoes to match, but after entering two stores, I remembered I hate shoes and gave up on that endeavour. I found a local meadery, too - so...needless to say, I bought a bottle of mead.
Oh, that reminds me - my god-damned credit card declined on me. I'm going to have to call VISA and yell at them, or something. I CALLED them prior to departing and TOLD them I was going to be in France. Asshats.
I TRIED to go to the Notré Dame, but it was closed because of some new priests being ordained (also, I apologize - I let this sit for a few hours as Romain and I ate dinner, and now I have half a bottle of wine in me, so I may not be as eloquent as I was previously - I may also have more spelling mistakes) - but I got to see the cathedral at least, and it was beautiful. After that, I walked down the quai and browsed the stalls that had books - and found one entirely dedicated to SCIENCE FICTION, en français, of course - I bought the third Dune book by Frank Herbert. I'm going to translate it to help me learn French. Then I met Romain at the Mosquée du Paris, where we had morrocan mint tea, and it was apparently Gay Pride Day in Paris today, as there was well...a gay pride parade running down the middle of the street. It was interesting.
I spent the remainder of my evening sitting in a patisserie reading a book, because Romain had to practice for his symphony next Thursday and wanted some privacy - after that, I came back to the apartment where we've been ever since. We just finished a lovely pasta dinner with fresh basil, and of course, a bottle of wine. He's a wonderful conversationalist. Now, it is nearly midnight, and time for bed shortly, I believe.
Tomorrow: Auvers-Sur-Oise, the resting place of Vincent Van Gogh!
Friday, June 24, 2011
Language barriers suck.
"He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man; and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him."
This quote has been stuck in my head for two days. Maybe it will unstick itself now.
So, I was going to write a blog post yesterday afternoon, to save myself from staying up super late writing it last night, but it never happened last night either, as I did not get to sleep until 1am as it was. WHY do the French stay up so late? We were having dinner last night at a time I normally consider bedtime. So I am writing it now, at 8am, and I'm still incredibly tired, but hopefully I will wake up as I write this. I'm contemplating getting clothes on, and heading downstairs with my laptop for tea.
Yesterday was good. I promised myself one night where I wouldn't set my alarm, so that I could catch up on all the hours of nonexistent sleep I've had so far...and ended up sleeping until 10AM yesterday morning. I woke up feeling much better, but horrible at the same time, as I had planned on getting up early, going for a walk in Silke's garden (which is ridiculously narrow but long, by the way - I haven't even found the end of it yet), breaking my fast at a local patisserie, and then coming back to grab a bicycle and go for a ride.
Well...I woke up at 10. So scratch all that. I got up, got ready, and left right away with the bicycle...which turned out to have a flat tire. WHY couldn't I have been informed what a bike shop was called before I left the house? I walked the bike into town, and once there, I tried looking for a bike shop, thinking 'oh, there are bikes everywhere, this shouldn't be hard' - yeah. An interesting caveat I wasn't quite expecting...nobody speaks English. One very frustrating hour of asking random people "Je cherche la place au réparations du bicyclette" because it's the only thing I could think to say in that regard, and I finally found it. WHO puts a bike shop under a building in an alleyway, and then doesn't put signs out for it? I walked past it a million times before I found it. It's called a vélo-service, it turns out. And what I was asking for (which I learned later in the day from Silke's daughter, Carine is "Gonflez le pneu")
It was nearly noon by then, and I was famished. Across from le vélo-service was a patisserie, so I went in and got a petit baguette and un grillé aux pommes (like a little sticky apple tart) ...and then it started to rain. Nay, pour. Hard.
I was wet several times yesterday.
With my newly pumped up pneu (what a strange word - that p is not silent, by the way) - oh, I guess I should mention, Silke lent me her bike for the day, but if I wanted to ride it, I needed to pump the tires. tires = pneu. I just realized I never said WHERE I got the bike from. I somewhat had to swallow my cycling pride to use it - a frame size too small for me, the seat was too low, and it's, uhm...well, fuschia. aka pink, bleh. But I clocked over 10km on it yesterday, just cycling about. Actually, I probably did closer to 20km throughout the whole day.
But I digress.
With my newly pumped up tires, I took the pink beast down the main shopping strip in town, rue trois du callioux, and cycled past the cathedral (one of the reasons I came to Amiens - I went to it later in the day, I'll get to that) and after getting lost a few times because the streets are a little confusing, and so was my map, I found a bike path along the Somme.
THE SOMME!
It was 7km allez-retour (return) and it was beautiful, so beautiful. Flat wide track, partially paved in sections, along the Somme and what they call the 'petit Somme' through an area of town called Les Hortillionages" - aka water gardens - and I saw a swan, and a blue-heron, and some baby ducks, and other birds that I can't identify. And there were little houses lining this path, that apparently it's totally kosher for cars to drive on too, even though it didn't really look big enough for it...and the little houses had little bridges to their gardens overtop of the little canals. It was really, really amazing. I'm glad I came across it.
I took shelter along the way underneath a big willow tree, because the weather yesterday was on and off sunny-pouring, and I did something stupid. I was trying to take a self photo with my timer, and I had my camera sitting on top of my bike seat, and a particularly strong gust of wind came by, knocked it to the ground, and now I have dirt in the zoom feature of my lens. I cleaned the lens the best I could, and that's OK again, but when I zoom in and out, it makes nasty gritty camera sounds. I'm going to have to take it in and get it serviced when I get home. Oh, and replace the little soft piece that surrounds the view finder. I kinda broke that. Lesson learned, I guess. Bike seats are bad for SLR cameras on self-timer.
After the trail, I biked back into town, thoroughly soaked now, and took shelter under an awning waiting for the super-marché and the banque-postale to open. Apparently, the French close down for three hours in the afternoon for lunch. THREE HOURS, what the hell. So I waited, and then when they opened, I very clumsily got stamps for my postcards and bought some fresh fruit at the market. Oh, and a pack of what is very likely HORRIBLE for me, but awesomely delicious - it's a pack of these little belgian waffles with giant sugar crystals baked inside them so they are kinda crunchy, and they are coated in dark chocolate. I don't know what they're called, but they are amazing. My breakfast this morning will be the rest of my fruit and the rest of the pack of sugar waffles.
Finally full (for the first time in a few days) - I carried the bike up a huge set of stairs and headed into the cathedral. I saw this graffiti on the way up the stairs - I love it when I see signs of anarchy in other countries. I don't really know why - but there is this small, punk part of my brain that was just THRILLED to see it.
I just love cathedrals. You don't need to be religious to appreciate the time and energy and sheer skill that went into making a cathedral. Or the dedication of the people who created it to make something which they felt brought them closer to god, towering up towards the heavens. Anyhow - I saw it in the daytime and it was pretty spectacular, I even put up a candle at one of those - forgive my ignorance - places where people pay a euro to light a candle (altar?) ...I don't know what to call it. My favourite picture in the whole place is this one, here - a lone woman praying in the sacrament.
After this, I was beat. So I cycled home and stayed at Silke's for a couple hours, until I was supposed to meet her for dinner. Well, meeting her for dinner was apparently untrue - I was meeting her, her daughter, and their French-German friendship/fellowship/something - after the war, French and German cities started befriending one another as a sign of good faith, and today is the 50th anniversary of this for the towns of Amiens and Dormagen and they were all gathered in Amiens to meet...and I can't speak either language. I was quite uncomfortable for most of it, though it got better once we sat down to eat, and I got some wine in me. Wine apparently makes everything better. I sat at the end of a long table with Silke and some gentleman whose name I never learned, and his English was poor, but between my french and his english, we made it work. Dinner was delicious, flamiche au poireaux - aka leek tart ...the french really, really don't understand lactose intolerance. My poor stomach was privy to several delicious items last night, the each of which contained brie, and goats cheese, and dairy, and yeah. I feel a little out of sorts this morning.
Since it was well past 10pm at this point, you'd think my day is nearly over, but I didn't come back home until 1am. Every year since 2000, for three months in the summer, they light the cathedral up, and it was shockingly stunning. I guess after some reparations on the cathedral, they discovered some of the original paint from the 13th century, and they've devised a brilliant light system to overlay what they thought were the original colours onto the front face of the cathedral, and they give a speech about the history of the painting and the art. Silke was kind enough to translate for me. It really was beautiful - I stayed watching it until it ended at midnight, and then I cycled home.
I WANTED to go cycling again this morning, but it turns out I have to catch the morning train to Paris rather than an evening one because my next couchsurfer, Romain - isn't home for most of the day, and if I'm not in Paris before 2pm, I won't have a place to stay until after midnight tonight. Which means I should go shower and get packed - it's half nine and I'm not dressed (though sitting in the dining hall, enjoying a delicious german tea and croissant!)
Oh, one more thing: unless I want to hire a taxi out to the WWI memorials, it's not happening. They're too far away, apparently. Boo. =(
This quote has been stuck in my head for two days. Maybe it will unstick itself now.
So, I was going to write a blog post yesterday afternoon, to save myself from staying up super late writing it last night, but it never happened last night either, as I did not get to sleep until 1am as it was. WHY do the French stay up so late? We were having dinner last night at a time I normally consider bedtime. So I am writing it now, at 8am, and I'm still incredibly tired, but hopefully I will wake up as I write this. I'm contemplating getting clothes on, and heading downstairs with my laptop for tea.
Yesterday was good. I promised myself one night where I wouldn't set my alarm, so that I could catch up on all the hours of nonexistent sleep I've had so far...and ended up sleeping until 10AM yesterday morning. I woke up feeling much better, but horrible at the same time, as I had planned on getting up early, going for a walk in Silke's garden (which is ridiculously narrow but long, by the way - I haven't even found the end of it yet), breaking my fast at a local patisserie, and then coming back to grab a bicycle and go for a ride.
Well...I woke up at 10. So scratch all that. I got up, got ready, and left right away with the bicycle...which turned out to have a flat tire. WHY couldn't I have been informed what a bike shop was called before I left the house? I walked the bike into town, and once there, I tried looking for a bike shop, thinking 'oh, there are bikes everywhere, this shouldn't be hard' - yeah. An interesting caveat I wasn't quite expecting...nobody speaks English. One very frustrating hour of asking random people "Je cherche la place au réparations du bicyclette" because it's the only thing I could think to say in that regard, and I finally found it. WHO puts a bike shop under a building in an alleyway, and then doesn't put signs out for it? I walked past it a million times before I found it. It's called a vélo-service, it turns out. And what I was asking for (which I learned later in the day from Silke's daughter, Carine is "Gonflez le pneu")
It was nearly noon by then, and I was famished. Across from le vélo-service was a patisserie, so I went in and got a petit baguette and un grillé aux pommes (like a little sticky apple tart) ...and then it started to rain. Nay, pour. Hard.
I was wet several times yesterday.
With my newly pumped up pneu (what a strange word - that p is not silent, by the way) - oh, I guess I should mention, Silke lent me her bike for the day, but if I wanted to ride it, I needed to pump the tires. tires = pneu. I just realized I never said WHERE I got the bike from. I somewhat had to swallow my cycling pride to use it - a frame size too small for me, the seat was too low, and it's, uhm...well, fuschia. aka pink, bleh. But I clocked over 10km on it yesterday, just cycling about. Actually, I probably did closer to 20km throughout the whole day.
But I digress.
With my newly pumped up tires, I took the pink beast down the main shopping strip in town, rue trois du callioux, and cycled past the cathedral (one of the reasons I came to Amiens - I went to it later in the day, I'll get to that) and after getting lost a few times because the streets are a little confusing, and so was my map, I found a bike path along the Somme.
THE SOMME!
It was 7km allez-retour (return) and it was beautiful, so beautiful. Flat wide track, partially paved in sections, along the Somme and what they call the 'petit Somme' through an area of town called Les Hortillionages" - aka water gardens - and I saw a swan, and a blue-heron, and some baby ducks, and other birds that I can't identify. And there were little houses lining this path, that apparently it's totally kosher for cars to drive on too, even though it didn't really look big enough for it...and the little houses had little bridges to their gardens overtop of the little canals. It was really, really amazing. I'm glad I came across it.
I took shelter along the way underneath a big willow tree, because the weather yesterday was on and off sunny-pouring, and I did something stupid. I was trying to take a self photo with my timer, and I had my camera sitting on top of my bike seat, and a particularly strong gust of wind came by, knocked it to the ground, and now I have dirt in the zoom feature of my lens. I cleaned the lens the best I could, and that's OK again, but when I zoom in and out, it makes nasty gritty camera sounds. I'm going to have to take it in and get it serviced when I get home. Oh, and replace the little soft piece that surrounds the view finder. I kinda broke that. Lesson learned, I guess. Bike seats are bad for SLR cameras on self-timer.
After the trail, I biked back into town, thoroughly soaked now, and took shelter under an awning waiting for the super-marché and the banque-postale to open. Apparently, the French close down for three hours in the afternoon for lunch. THREE HOURS, what the hell. So I waited, and then when they opened, I very clumsily got stamps for my postcards and bought some fresh fruit at the market. Oh, and a pack of what is very likely HORRIBLE for me, but awesomely delicious - it's a pack of these little belgian waffles with giant sugar crystals baked inside them so they are kinda crunchy, and they are coated in dark chocolate. I don't know what they're called, but they are amazing. My breakfast this morning will be the rest of my fruit and the rest of the pack of sugar waffles.
Finally full (for the first time in a few days) - I carried the bike up a huge set of stairs and headed into the cathedral. I saw this graffiti on the way up the stairs - I love it when I see signs of anarchy in other countries. I don't really know why - but there is this small, punk part of my brain that was just THRILLED to see it.
I just love cathedrals. You don't need to be religious to appreciate the time and energy and sheer skill that went into making a cathedral. Or the dedication of the people who created it to make something which they felt brought them closer to god, towering up towards the heavens. Anyhow - I saw it in the daytime and it was pretty spectacular, I even put up a candle at one of those - forgive my ignorance - places where people pay a euro to light a candle (altar?) ...I don't know what to call it. My favourite picture in the whole place is this one, here - a lone woman praying in the sacrament.
After this, I was beat. So I cycled home and stayed at Silke's for a couple hours, until I was supposed to meet her for dinner. Well, meeting her for dinner was apparently untrue - I was meeting her, her daughter, and their French-German friendship/fellowship/something - after the war, French and German cities started befriending one another as a sign of good faith, and today is the 50th anniversary of this for the towns of Amiens and Dormagen and they were all gathered in Amiens to meet...and I can't speak either language. I was quite uncomfortable for most of it, though it got better once we sat down to eat, and I got some wine in me. Wine apparently makes everything better. I sat at the end of a long table with Silke and some gentleman whose name I never learned, and his English was poor, but between my french and his english, we made it work. Dinner was delicious, flamiche au poireaux - aka leek tart ...the french really, really don't understand lactose intolerance. My poor stomach was privy to several delicious items last night, the each of which contained brie, and goats cheese, and dairy, and yeah. I feel a little out of sorts this morning.
Since it was well past 10pm at this point, you'd think my day is nearly over, but I didn't come back home until 1am. Every year since 2000, for three months in the summer, they light the cathedral up, and it was shockingly stunning. I guess after some reparations on the cathedral, they discovered some of the original paint from the 13th century, and they've devised a brilliant light system to overlay what they thought were the original colours onto the front face of the cathedral, and they give a speech about the history of the painting and the art. Silke was kind enough to translate for me. It really was beautiful - I stayed watching it until it ended at midnight, and then I cycled home.
I WANTED to go cycling again this morning, but it turns out I have to catch the morning train to Paris rather than an evening one because my next couchsurfer, Romain - isn't home for most of the day, and if I'm not in Paris before 2pm, I won't have a place to stay until after midnight tonight. Which means I should go shower and get packed - it's half nine and I'm not dressed (though sitting in the dining hall, enjoying a delicious german tea and croissant!)
Oh, one more thing: unless I want to hire a taxi out to the WWI memorials, it's not happening. They're too far away, apparently. Boo. =(
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