I Loved Paris in the Springtime

      Today is the two-year anniversary of the start of my semester in Paris. When I'm older and hitting milestones like my fortieth high school reunion (like my mom is this year), I know two years will seem like absolutely nothing. But to me, here and now, I can hardly believe it. I can't be appreciative enough of my semester here in Paris during college because I was lucky enough to spend it with fourteen other fascinating, hilarious, fun and sweet people who made me laugh, who explored Paris and Europe with me, who shared the burden of the ridiculousness of life in Paris and who made me break down into a damn mess when it was time to say goodbye (and, frankly, the entire summer of 2012). If not for all of them (all of you, if you're reading this), I wouldn't be back here in Paris at all. I met up with Amelia, one of the fifteen of us Paris alumni, for coffee today on the rue d'Assas and we reminisced, agreeing that we were so incredibly lucky for our time.  So, as I write this, I raise a bottle (You wouldn't expect me to use a glass now, would you?) of cheap Bordeaux to you, mes amis, for the memories and for the inspiration to do this again.

Love,

Rachel

Latin Quarter

Atop the Arc de Triomphe

Fontainebleau

Easter at Notre-Dame

The Highlander

Outside The Highlander

Eiffel Tower

On the terrace of Mary-Kate's beautiful foyer on the boulevard St-Michel (near my current apartment)

Giverny

Versailles

Rome

Santorini, Greece

Marseille

Our last get-together with everyone on the Champ de Mars

Steps of St-Etienne-du-Mont

Venice

Champagne Supernova

I, admittedly, haven't seen much of France outside of Paris. It's a little strange that I've seen much, much more of Italy, for example, than France. Last year, I spent a weekend in Marseille and Arles and went on a day trip to Giverny with Central, as well as an awesome hiking trip to Fontainebleau on my own with friends, but other than that, I know nothing about France outside of Paris firsthand. Quel dommage! I see this as a real problem, because it's like only visiting New York in the States (I hate when people say 'the States', but I just did it.). When Parisians realize I'm American (Which takes all of two seconds), they immediately start confessing their love for New York (And sometimes California) even if they've never been there. When I say that I'm actually from Minnesota, I think I burst their bubble. It really peeves me that New York is somehow a microcosm of the U.S. for foreigners in the same way that Paris is for France. In reality, most Americans are NOT from New York and don't live that lifestyle and I think the same goes for the French in regard to Paris. It seems like I'm constantly defending and promoting Minnesota, but I think it usually falls on deaf ears (I think Parisians are just not interested in our lakes or freezing your ass off in the nearly year-round snow).

I sometimes find myself wishing I had just gone the TAPIF route and been placed in a small town in the middle of nowhere just so I can have that alternate experience of France. But I love Paris too much, so I couldn't let that happen. Yet. Maybe another time, since the program allows you to do it until you're 29. But by 29, I should maybe try to have my life a little more put together (Or not. We'll see where I'm at when the time comes. A wise philosopher once said, "YOLO." and I've taken that to heart).

Anyway, my point is that this past weekend, the graduate students went on a day trip to Reims, at the heart of the Champagne region and I loved seeing more of France. There was so little time to see or do anything, so after our two-hour bus ride in, we immediately went to Notre-Dame de Reims, a beautiful thirteenth-century Gothic cathedral whose structure resembles Notre-Dame de Paris, but whose façade is much more ornate. We also saw the Basilique Saint-Remi de Reims, which I actually enjoyed more due to the lack of tourists and a choir practicing in the back. I am such a sucker for European churches. I'm starting to get a little jaded when it comes to their aesthetic beauty, but it just floors me how old they are and to think of how many generations have spent their time- very personal time- in them. I also love them because they're free.

The rest of the day, we spent at the French Champagne house, Pommery. Again, clearly knowing nothing about France at large, I was expecting a Champagne house to be in the countryside and to be able to see the actual fields where the grapes are produced, but Pommery is well within the bounds of the town. I'm learning.

We had a tour of the cellar, where an astounding 28 million bottles are currently stored. Shit! Think about that. Like really think about it. If I did my Googling  math right, that's more than five bottles of Champagne for every Minnesotan. I've done winery tours before (In Italy and Greece), but nowhere near as massive as Pommery.

So here are the photos I took while in Reims that don't really do it justice.

Love,
Rachel

Notre-Dame de Reims

Notre-Dame de Reims

Notre-Dame de Reims

Notre-Dame de Reims- the windows were done by Marc Chagall in the 1970s

Notre-Dame de Reims

Notre-Dame de Reims

Notre-Dame de Reims

Reims

Basilique Saint-Remi de Reims

Reims

Pommery

Pommery

Pommery

Pommery

Pommery

Pommery- this wall engraving was done under candlelight and took a year to complete.

The oldest Pommery Champagnes

Pommery

Pommery

C'est la vie

   

      Over the weekend, our group traveled to Marseille and Arles in southern France. We took the TGV- the train à grande vitesse (high speed train)-from the gare de Lyon early Friday morning and it took less time to travel across the entire country of France than to drive to my cabin in northern Minnesota. I've been wanting to see the Mediterranean for years and it was really cool to be able to finally be there. The weather was so warm that some of the people in our group were wearing shorts, while the Marseillais were dressed like they were in danger of frostbite. We got a nice tour of the old part of town, le panier (literally "the basket") that reminded me a lot of the Italian hilltowns. We had the night off to explore the city, but I got sick at the restaurant, so it stayed pretty low-key. In the morning, we got the chance to see the Château d'If, which is a prison that was made famous by Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo. I wish I had read it beforehand, but now I have my very own copy that is basically the size of a shoebox.

Port of Marseille

At the Château d'If

     Marseille felt like a small town- 800,000 people feels small to me now- and it was nice to get out of Paris and feel like I could breathe again, and also in Arles, which actually is quite small with about 70,000 people. Saturday afternoon, we took another train to Arles. I wish we had more time there because I think I would've really enjoyed learning more about the city, but we were definitely rushed. We got to see the Roman ruins and ampitheatre that still exist in the center of town, which looks like a mini-Rome. The mistral, the wind that comes up off the Mediterranean, was absolutely insane. On Saturday night, we walked down to see the Rhône that runs through Arles and the wind was so strong I couldn't walk straight.

     I got to sit in first class on the way back, which would have been great to sleep in, but there was too much conversation going on. It was really great to have everyone together and I'm pretty sure I laughed the entire weekend. After having so much fun, I came home to Paris to find out my grandma had died an hour earlier. She had Alzheimer's for twelve years, so I'm happy she can finally be free. I don't know if there's a worse way out in life. Though I knew this was coming, I still can't really believe that she's gone and that I can't be there. It's really tragic that I never got to know her as an adult since she hasn't recognized me for five years. She was everything that I think really matters in life- to be kind-hearted, modest, determined, loving and always up for a laugh, even till the end. Now when I think about her, I picture her from my older memories instead- in her golfing clothes, her bright pink lipstick, forcing seconds on everyone at the table and giving such good hugs that they hurt.

    This week has been a little off. I'm exhausted and a little sick and I think I might have ordered a sandwich au japon today instead of a sandwich au jambon. I got lost on the way home from my internship today on the line that I take every single day. I could really use a hug from my mom, whose hugs are comparable to Grandma's. Mais c'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?

Rachel

"When good Americans die, they go to Paris." -Oscar Wilde

     This weekend was really centered around death. I got to see the Père-Lachaise and Montparnasse cemeteries, of which the first one is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. Père-Lachaise is full of mossy tombs, statues and gravestones that date from all different eras and mark so many famous names, it's truly amazing. I made it to the graves of Edith Piaf, Sarah Bernhardt, Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde (which has the tradition of being kissed) and Chopin. Even though it's a 45 minute commute, I really want to go back and find others that I missed, like Gertrude Stein and just read a book there or something. 

Kissing Oscar Wilde

     Today was not a good day. I started my internship at 9 AM, which I tried to be positive about, but it really gets old when you feel like a two-year-old all day long. I wasn't given a lot of work to do, but it was hard to understand and be understood entirely in French, especially with tourism industry-specialized words, like pax, which apparently is internationally recognized as "persons." For lunch, which is from 1-2 pm in France, it was interesting to see all the other working French go out and get their lunch to-go, as in a sandwich at a boulangerie or various hot made-from-scratch meals. What a different experience lunch during work is here. During my summer job, I speed away from work in my car to the nearest fast-food place, throw a burger in my mouth, scatter fries all over the floor while probably driving with a knee or two and then I still show up late. I'm definitely liking the lunch scene better over here. By 6 PM, I was almost nodding off and my boss thankfully let me go home. (I took myself shopping on the Champs-Élysées instead.)

     To continue my fun, I decided to do laundry. Joy! I had heard that the American who lived in my room last semester got her clothes stuck in the washing machine for three days. I put on a brave face tonight, put my coins in and hoped for the best. Guess whose clothes are stuck this semester? This girl.

    Can't wait to get away to Arles and Marseille this weekend.

Rachel