Spring Vacation Review (part 3, Provence and goodies from the States)

Because of my sudden train rescheduling, I stayed in Avignon just long enough to enjoy Le Palais des Papes but I’m not complaining. It is one of the more intriguing parts of Catholic history to learn about and the political and religious chaos it inspired. Loved of the artistic touches the popes of Avignon incorporated everywhere. There is so much Italian influence, one might get the feeling that Avignon was something of a copy of Vatican in Rome. To butcher an over-used phrase structure, you can take the Pope out of Italy but you can take Italy out of the Pope. The principal part of Avignon interestingly enough is still surrounded by fortifications. Upon arriving, it really does look like one is stepping into the Middle Ages while getting off the train and walking through centuries-old town gates and down twisting and narrow cobblestone streets.

I admit to spending most of my time either in a museum, cathedral, or café. In Aix I went to a café I remember first reading about in Mrs. Hester's French class at Routt, Les Deux Garçons. Simply enough it is famous for attracting many celebrities and politicians including several Hollywood elite, British Prime Ministers, and, my favorite, Edith Piaf. I had the best, probably most expensive cappuccino in my life.

Worth it? Oh, yes and I might have passed off for another French person again if I hadn't been all photo-happy. Instead as usual the waiter inquired if I was British. I have never had any European guess my real nationality unless I'm with other Americans. Funny.

Almost every other day there is a huge clothing market on the main street that starts "early" in the morning at 9:00. I woke by southern standards then on Thursday, got a café, and discussed the fabric of Provence with a stall owner who could have kept me entertained all day why working out deals on table clothes and various textile goods. Charm seems to come naturally for the French as it did for this stall owner. That is though when they wish to show it. When it does show, it is hard to not fall for it a little.

That same market is also perfect for souvenir shopping as the typical things one brings home like lavender sachets and soap are usually a euro cheaper than at a place like Monoprix or Carrefour (think tiny French Walmarts). They are about two euros cheaper than at the train station. A general seems to be that everything is more expensive at the train station. Lesson to be learned: always go local because you tend to get the best price.

And when I got home, my books for my studies in England! At this point from Friday, I've finished Pride and Prejudice and am half-way through Wuthering Heights. I want to be clear though that the only reason I'm going through very complex plots so quickly is because I've already read them several times before in my life, Wuthering Heights especially takes me back to my days at Routt and the months I had to study it under Mrs. Kirkpatrick.

Along with that was my Mom and Dad’s latest care package where Mom sent me two “American” t-shirts including the red one with Wonder Woman, Super Girl, and Bat Girl. For a twenty-year-old it may be cheesy state-side but my host family approved heartily as things like Marvel comics are among the “cool” things that come from the States. Wonder Woman, Europeans seem to get. Baseball t-shirts….not so much.

Dad, the wonderful man, sent me organic, very, very American things like water crackers, peanut butter, and chocolate chip granola bars. In addition, he tucked in some Kellogg blueberry cereal bars. Only Dad sends me ANYTHING blueberry-flavored, like a kind of signature meaning “Love, Dad.” Mom got some peanut butter Kashi bars in there as well. More Orbit gum came as well as real Honey Nut Cheerios. I’ve seen them in French Grocery stores once and that was in Aix-en-Provence. However it looked, well, just not like my Honey Nut Cheerios.

Dad, clever and lucky man, succeeded in sticking it to air mail regulations and got one more bottle of nail polish to me; Sally Hanson “Instra-Dri polish in “Wined Up.” It is the perfect dark color for hands with short nails and pale skin. It was hidden in a bundle of precious individualized Arizona Tea and Crystal Light drink packets. These instantly intrigued Madame as I got the impression that she had heard of these low-calorie, wonderful-tasting packets of joy so I’ll have to have her sample some. I have NEVER seen or heard of them at least in France. They’re missing out! I have quite a few but even so, I must ration out to keep it lasting. Does it at all seem that I kind of like these things? (Insert here sarcastic voice)

Spring Vacation Review (part 2, Strasbourg)

Strasbourg made for an appropriate transition from German into French culture. It is a very European city. Not French, not German, not Belgium, not anything in particular, but it is European. Most likely this is due to the presence of one of the EU headquarters as well as the European Council (a completely different thing I’m told but I’ve yet to understand their necessity with the presence of the EU. Working on it.). During my day spent in Strasbourg, it was quite lively because the next day the EU was going to start another session. I went to la Cathedral Notre Dame de Strasbourg.

Once you see enough churches in person, you start picking out the little details that make each one different and interesting. What made this cathedral very interesting was the astronomical clock. It is a very complicated and sophisticated piece of machinery for its time of construction in the mid 16^th century. It was depended upon to calculate the date of Easter every year following the very complex Gregorian calendar. Implication being made here is that this ability is impressive.

It is also incredibly accurate in measuring the alignment of the planets and the zodiac. Yep, I said zodiac and it is in a church. However, considering the context of when the clock was built, it was during a time when every European court had its own court astrologist (or a team of them) and dates were evaluated and prioritized based on heavenly alignment. Today, I admit, it seems slightly bizarre.

Afterward, I visited the museums for local archeology, decorative objects, and fine arts. In Strasbourg it is incredibly easy to do so as all three reside in the same palace that was once built by a local and powerful cardinal.

Conveniently enough, the boat tours are right next to the palace so I was able to go there next. Rivers surround the central part of Strasbourg and so boat rides make for a practical and fun tour.

Yes, I did the tourist thing but it was at least not expensive and the French and Germans surrounded me and no Asians could be found so I deemed the experience authentic enough.

Not too many non-Europeans make it out to “that neck of the woods” in Europe. It is really too bad. It is a pleasant city with all the aesthetics of French life like the architecture and a public transportation system that must have been German-inspired being easy and efficient to use even for a complete stranger like me. It is the best of both worlds. For all Anglophones out there, head to the books stores in the center squares of the city. Most of them are English bookshops. That is just an FYI.

As an off side note, you know you’re missing the states when you get the urge to crank up some country music. Realizing some ways he is not really country, I’m finding myself listening to a lot of Johnny Cash lately. It is not that I didn’t like him before but I think I’ve fallen in love with him now.

Spring Vacation Review (part 1, Transportation, An Adventure in Inself)

Oh, goodness. What a vacation. Both relaxing and sometimes high-pressured, out of nine individual trains three were canceled due to the strike still going on and that continued during the Iceland volcano chaos. The volcano never once affected my two weeks of vacation save giving something to watch on CNN and a reason for an Irishman on one of my trains to call me a “f**king yank.” In his defense he said it with a very Irish, very charming smile.
Thankfully when I did run into problems the ticket people of France are amongst the quickest working and creative of problem solvers I’ve come across. There was an estimation given to me by one in Nîmes that there’s some sort of strike every month. I think it could be assumed that they are used to working around this sort of thing. I remain glad that such a reputation stays in France all the same.

In the meantime, as my time traveling was nothing compared to the rest of the world I took photos. The appropriateness of it, I don't know but after being in train stations during times of clam and then suddenly those chaotic times, it was a wonder for me to observe all the lines and craziness.
Strasbourg was so full on the inside, people were even waiting outside of the train station so as not to be too crowded in.


Of course, I had to notice that humans weren't the only ones in the middle of the problems. Dogs had to be delayed form just getting home as well.


So really that covers it on the transportation side of things. Thank you all for thoughts, prayers, encouraging words, everything!.

Another List and leaving Avignon Today

As I’m in the middle of going to Aix-en-Provence from Avignon this morning, I realize I have learned quite a bit about traveling in my short time in France. I’ve only used the public system to get around France and that can be…kinda chaotic for an American. You never know when the trains will strike or nature will interfere. You also never know the people you’ll meet along the way. My most recent episode was announced on my Facebook status. Thanks to the strike (that is still going on despite the Iceland volcano trouble), my overnight to Avignon last night was canceled. I had to be open enough to not only change my ticket that had me spend a good part of my day on the train on Tuesday but also find and book a hotel in the middle of the volcano crisis AND on the night before the EU returned to session. That equals expensive, hard-to-find rooms. Sometimes it helps playing the desperate-looking, young foreign female in France to the right people. I’m very certain I wasn’t suppose to pay close to what I did in Strasbourg’s current state but the Hotel Vendrome pulled through for me.
So with the various episodes I’ve been through, I’ve come up with a list of sorts of all the things on my part that I credit to having helped me out many a time.

Things that every traveler needs (but especially if you’re a twenty-something female traversing about France)

A good, all-weather coat: As you might have already noticed. I use a khaki London Fog trench coat. It is well made to put up with all sorts of abuse from hard wind and rain to being used as an impromptu picnic blanket. It also as two deep pockets that are only easy to access by the person wearing said coat. To cap it off, a trench is akin to a scarf in Europe: a must-have. Key wardrobe pieces like this that serve at least two purposes for the everyday are invaluable. Note that, for me, one good purpose is just fashionably blending in. Appearances, when you’re interacting with almost no one but strangers, are EVERYTHING.

A scarf that can go from winter/fall to spring/summer: Guys, this even includes you. Yes, shocking perhaps for American guys, but Europeans including guys use scarfs in their year-round wardrobe. It is a simple way to make your limited wardrobe suddenly very unlimited. They can also be double as half-blankets on cold trains.

A high quality bag(s): This is what I’ve got: one very large rolling suitcase, one Osprey brand Porter 40 that converts from backpack to carrying suitcase, one Incase laptop backpack, my small, turquoise HOBO purse, and my beloved Longchamp khaki patent leather purse. I admit that the two purses are MAYBE overkill but my excuse is that I’m what my mom refers to me as “a bag lady.” The indispensables are my suitcase and backpacks. The just SUPER, super, super nice-to-have’s are the purses. However, as a woman spending time in ridiculously feminie France, I’ll say that at least one purse is needed. I can’t imagine lugging around a backpack as an alternative.

An easy to care for, nice haircut: Again, I’m mentioning the “appearances” point. I know. I know. We’re taught from being very little “appearances aren’t everything.” I’ll just take you to the side and explain that in this situation, it is best to ignore that a little bit. When no one knows you, they need something to start off with to start trusting you. For me, I like an easy-to-care-for cut because if I’m getting up for a 6:10AM train, I will want as much sleep as I can get beforehand and that means I don’t have a bunch of time to look like a decent person. Decently looking equals decently helped, as I’ll continue to explain.

A credit card that works overseas: Refer to one of my previous entries on that one.

A sewing kit: Europe=Expensive and so it is wise to always have someway to not have to depend on buying replacements for clothing if it breaks, rips, etc. Actually, this rule could apply for a lot of other things that you own.

A first aid kit: May sound girl scout-ish (which I was by the way) but when you’re as clumsy as me or you walk as much as me, your little scraps and blisters will thank you for the extra protection as they’re trying to heal.

An amazing pair of walking shoes: Walking=blisters EXCEPT when you have a good pair of shoes. I think I’ve made only one bad shoe decision here (Jessica knows what I’m talking about as she helped me discover it). Lesson to be learned: buy wisely and very, very carefully. You will be walking miles everyday.

Enduring sense of awareness: The world isn’t evil but it’s no angel either. I have personally trained myself to place certain important items in certain places in my pocket/bag/money belt/etc. and then always be aware of them. I failed in doing this one time during March and I lost my wonderful red leather gloves to what was probably a pickpocket. The best thing about those gloves besides being in my favorite color was that they were actually small enough for my hands. Size 6 isn’t always easy to find.

An open mind and flexible attitude: Life is always changing and it always seems that when you start moving faster then it does, too. Be ready for it all and sometimes being creative about it. I had to give up my whole day in Avignon for just an evening thanks to the French strike. Earlier, on my way to Baden-Baden, I had to switch to an earlier train, missing class, in going to Paris to catch another train to get across the border. Crazy, it can just be crazy sometimes. Ah, well, I can at least claim that I know the French train system after this.

A sense of adventure: Again it is the nature of traveling. Don’t just be willing, but be excited to try out fois gras or escargot. Imagine being Anothony Bourdain or something. If a world-class chef isn’t afraid to try crazy stuff, and this goes for outside of food as well, shouldn’t we all take the same attitude? On top of that, is the likeliness to visit and experience all those great things you won’t find in the guidebooks. Be like a native you’ll come home with great stories. This I can guarantee.

A great smile: This could possibly be the most important thing to pack. No one will want to help you, approach you, or (most importantly) even play with the idea of doing a favor for you if you go around looking like a grump. A lot of situations I’ve gotten in, from canceled trains to just rather high museum ticket prices were made into much better experiences because people just found me to be worth it.

Here’s to hoping the rest of my transportation is blissfully boring!

Being in Strasbourg

Well, it has been interesting for me in traveling recently with this Iceland volcano business going on. As the Internet that I’m able to get right now is really weak compared to what I’m used to, I’m a little hesitant in uploading pics of Baden-Baden at the moment. I want to be able to at least contact people via e-mail, Facebook, and all that good stuff so I’m currently holding off on trying anything that might tax it.

I arrived last night from Germany into Strasbourg, France. My train was over ten minutes late due to what I understand as Europe’s sudden influx of train travelers right now. I will be taking my very first overnight train tonight. Should be very interesting under the current circumstances.

For those of you who haven’t heard about the volcano exploding over in Iceland, I highly suggest looking into it. It has truly affected all of Europe and the rest of the world in many ways. Many project that this will slow the current economic recovery that Europe was just starting. Everyday, airlines lose millions in profit and any other business dependant on transportation is put on hold as well.

In the meantime, the people I am meeting on my travels have become more interesting. On the train back to France, I meet up with a group of travelers who kind of just banded together with the only commonality of trying to get to London. There was a Croatian, an Irishman, a Polish woman and her French Canadian husband. I introduced myself as I could have either creepily listened in on everything or just made myself open. They asked me where I was from and where I was going. I told them I came from the States but I’m not going back until July. The Irish guy shook his head and called me a Yank with a cursing adjective…okay, a couple of cursing adjectives. He was actually a charming person, just colorful.

I hope to take in a general view of Strasbourg today, continue reading the books I need for this coming summer session in England in seven weeks, maybe find a local brew. Jessica got me turned on to European micro-brews., particularly this one from her hometown called “Der Vogel.” I probably butchered that spelling and I hope the German speakers with forgive and correct me. The trick will just be getting a hold of the stuff in the States. In my exploration of beer in Europe, it is my favorite so far. I can’t drink Kronenbourg so contently ever again.

My sympathies and best of luck to all who are just trying to get home right now. As a fellow traveler, my heart is with you.

Friedrichsbad, something a little different

How to know you’re in Europe is when you stop and notice that you’re twenty years old and drinking wine in public while writing a blog on your Mac about your nude spa day.

And this is where I stop everything and quickly and honestly assure all my good, American culture-raised friends and family that this is one of Europe’s most respected and repudiated spas. It is just that, well, it is German.

To explain, if I were to pin an adjective on the Germans it would be “clean.” I do not mean the germ phobic sort of clean. The atmosphere is too relaxed for that. I mean the sort of clean that specifically calls for separate and strict sets of dishrags and floor rags in the kitchen*. I mean the sort of clean that demands rigorous and law-enforced recycling everywhere. I also mean the sort of clean that calls for Friedrichsbad to be a nude spa because it is hard to imagine getting into a bath tub in a swimming suit and expecting to be as clean as if you just went in nude.

I also want to point out that Friedrichsbad is unique in being a nude spa as not all spas in Germany are like that but those same spas also have focuses away from cleanliness, A good example is the other major spa in Baden-Baden, Caracalla, that uses bathing suits and focuses more on a swimming pool-like experience. They rely on using jets and temperature rather than simple cleaning properties of the mountain mineral water. One must already be clean before entering the facilities of Caracalla.

I found no issue with being nude for a couple of reasons. First, as a nude spa every expects everyone to be...nude. Making a fuse can be more embarrassing than just sucking it up and going in. Second, just because people are nude doesn’t mean that only “the beautiful people” go there. To give an idea, the typical Baden-Baden dweller is either ancient, sick, or really, really passionate about their health. So regular people go to the spas here and they are of ALL ages (as long as they are over fourteen—spa rules) and ALL body types. Twenty somethings like me come. Eighty- and ninety- somethings come. From the skinniest man to the most round woman, EVERYONE is there and doing the same thing in the same facilities. No one cares if you have something like cellulite, a huge scar, a wart, or whatever is there. Everyone else has their own inperfections. Looking at it that way, it is almost freeing being in an environment like that. Don’t think I’ll be joining a nudist colony anytime soon though!

So how does this Friedrichsbad Spa “thing” work one might ask. That is a good question as I’m sure that there is nothing else like it in the world.

Entering the spa is something like entering a building that should be like a town hall, a museum, or some official public service building. Of course, one has to remember, this is Baden-Baden, roughly translated as “Bath-Bath.” Bathing here is a necessary service unto the public. This is why you come and this is why the spas in Baden-Baden are one of the few luxuries available not just to the rich few. For 31€ I chose not just the bath but also the optional brush-and-soap massage. Note that this is the most expensive option. Forgoing the massage, one pays 21€. After studying in not-so-cheap France for two months, this is an awesome deal.

The receptionist directs you to the changing rooms; boys on the left, girls on the right. Certain days of the week will allow you and your partner of the opposite sex go to the same changing room and bath side-by-side. Otherwise men and women are completely separate save for stages ten and eleven that are full bathes.

Walking into an open changing room, you simply undress, take a provided towel and put things like your clothes and all necessary cosmetics for after the bath in a locker. You are able to lock it with a special chip on your wrist like a watch that keeps with you throughout the visit. It is important to note that the only things you take with you now are your towel, your chip, and yourself.

An attendant will always be waiting outside the locker room to help you get started and direct as the experience can seem complicated the first time going through. “Bathing” is really done in steps. This particular spa was designed after the ancient Roman bathes and the experience is divided up into 17 stages. As I mentioned before, this is something very unique.

Stage one is the showers. Very straight forward, soap is provided and initial “dirtiness” is washed away.

Stage two and three are air bathes. They are just like saunas but with gorgeously decorated tiles, murals, and decorated ceilings. Chairs and lounges made of fragrant wood are provided to lie down or sit with a towel. The first room is 54° C (129.2° F), followed by the next room, which is 68°C (154.4°F).

Stage four brings you right back to the showers and the massage if you requested it. Then you continue on to stages five and six for the Thermal steam bath, the most unique part of the spa. Friedrichsbad is the only place in the world that has a Thermal steam room powered solely and uninhibitedly by the steam and heat of the earth. 45° C (154.4°F) is found at the bottom of the room. For 48°C (118.4°F) (and a higher concentration of the mineralized steam) you must sit on the stone platforms in the middle of the room. Because everyone is nude, mats are obligatory and given out for hygiene on the same used surface. I think it also makes sitting on rock a lot more comfortable, bathing suit or not.

Stages nine, ten, and eleven are one thermal bath after another. They are designed to slowly bring your body temperature down after the thermal bath with 36°C (96.8 °F), followed by 34°C(93.2 °F), and followed by 28°C(82.4 °F).

Then we’re off to the same showers again!

Stage thirteen is a cold water bath of just 18°C(64.4°F)! Touching it once, my face must have inspired the attendant some mercy as she asked me in halting English, “You prefer just warm towel dry off?” Why, yes, I think so.

The towels used at this, stage fourteen, are gigantic, warmed barely corn towels. They were so huge for my five foot, three body, I was glad for the attendant to help me navigate and get it wrapped around me.

One waits awhile in the toweling off area in order that no one feels crowded in stage fifteen, the cream service. The spa has its own line of soaps, lotions, and bathing brushes and it is at the cream service, that you get to try out the lotions for yourself. I used the amber scented one and have to give it credit as a good lotion that leaves one moisturized but not greasy.

Now it can be really tempting to try and be modest and not spend a lot of time with the cream station by just scantly rubbing yourself with lotion. Be sure that you make an effort to at least look like you mean to get all over your body as a guy next to me got “caught” by an attendant who said he needed to get all over to make it worth it…so she helped him. This is just a caution to lotion yourself or someone will do it for you. You decide what you’d prefer.

My favorite stage is stage sixteen, the relaxation room. They really should call it the cocoon room. An attendant walks you out of the cream service when you’re all clean and good smelling, and directs you to one of dozens of beds in a domed, tranquil room where the only light is what softly cracks through heavy drapes. Once on the bed, you’re wrapped in soft, warm purple blankets (hence, the cocoon feeling) and are left to drift off to sleep.

The seventeenth and final stage is enjoyable as well as when you are done napping, you can grab a fresh towel and head to the reading room with large windows giving natural light and there are dozen of well-known magazines in German, Russian, French, and, of course, English. I was able to get caught up on this weeks issue of ELLE (French version). The Crime and Punishment Expo at D’Orsay according to the issue is rather a success in Paris and I hope I get to go.

When you’re good and ready to go, you just head back to the locker room, get your things, and become set to walk the streets of Baden-Baden with the same relaxed look you had noticed on everyone else’s face. Only now, you know why.


*Credit to Jessica and her mother, Dorothy, for that statement

Baden-Baden in a little more detail

There is a place where both common man and rich man can come and experience the best of well-being or bien-être as the French would describe it. The Germans have it and it is called Baden-Baden.

Okay, so perhaps that is a little dramatic but I think I’ve hit the best of good fortune having a cousin live in this amazing spa town.

Baden-Baden is a quiet but not dead place. While internationally friendly, it is obvious from looking around; this is a mainly German traveler destination. Only by the good nature of the German citizens here have I been able to traverse this mountain-tucked town without much problem in the language department. However, BECAUSE of this characteristic, Baden-Baden retains its regional charm, reasonable prices, and a lack of jadedness when it comes to foreigners. Hence, I love it here.

Baden-Baden is the town it is due to natural hot spring water from the mountains that surround it. In this part of Germany the “mountains” would be rather dwarfed for what an American is used to having been both east and west and seen the mountains there. However, these mountains have attracted Pagans, Romans, and everyone else for the high mineral content and healthful effects of the water found there.

There are two main spas here. I have so far only visited the bathing suit wearing one and it was unlike anything I can begin to wonder if the US has as well. I really, really doubt it. The place is a complexed yet organized network of hot tubs, pools, grottos, steam rooms, saunas, showers, and climate controlled lounges that one can move around in at their own leisure for however amount of time they are willing to pay for and I can say that every euro is worth it. Simply luxurious.
Probably going back or to the nude spa tomorrow. Hard to decide!

I’m not sure is this is all of Germany or just Baden-Baden, but I find here I certain degree of relaxedness I’ve never encountered before. No one is uptight that I’m American, let alone a foreigner who doesn’t speak the local language. The atmosphere is low key and earthy. Everyone here is to relax or, like Jessica, is in the business of relaxing. I’m surrounded by organic food, recycling receptacles, natural mineral hot springs, and women whose thighs for once do not resemble toothpicks. For someone like me, this is heaven.

I’ll make the confession on the language level that I have loved this “Liz’s English Week in Baden-Baden” as I’m calling it. Really, what I’ve learned about the French and France this semester is overwhelming to consider. My language skills have shot through the roof from where they started. I’ve gone from “I know a little French” to where I’m being introduced to Europeans by my host family and Jessica as, “This is Liz. She is an American who speaks English and French.”

All the same, being able to take a break and talk in one’s native tongue once in a while has been incredibly good. With an almost religious devotion, I’ve gone to the Anglophone Wednesday Café Meetings almost every week and talked to my Mom and whoever else (Dad, my youngest niece, Aunt Helen, etc.) on Sunday evenings.
The Anglophone Wednesday Café Meetings are mainly made up of Americans like me but we only call it Anglophone because though we only speak English there, more than just Americans come. We get Canadians, Swedes, Mexicans, etc. all of whom show that the general theme is those who are very comfortable speaking English amongst native speakers who, after a hard day’s work of French, crave throwing around a lot, and I do mean a lot, of English slang and word play.

Specifically for me, I just love using “to get.” It isn’t always easy to translate “to get” as it has many key uses in everyday English and allows a speaker to communicate many things with very few different words. Once you get “to get,” I say, the rest of English should be a walk in the park. The only French person I’ve met who understands what I’m saying with that statement has been Pauline, the assistant to AHA’s head coordinator Sue at CIDEF. Pauline is French but studies English and (God bless her) has actually bothered to visit not just easy-to-get-to England but the United States. Girl gets “to get” like no other French person gets it. She obviously had gotten a hold of a lot of English skill state-side as there is no way to even trip her up with very specific and new English (and specifically, American) vocabulary like “tramp stamp.”

Uh, that would be a long story that involves Pauline’s love for getting tattoos and my love to look and learn about them.

Going back to Baden-Baden from that detour.

Looking forward to see what future things await this week and looking for the best way to get to a local nunnery here. It is apparently a local pilgrimage site and I find the Christian presence here very unique as it blends almost seamlessly with the old pagan presence of Barbarian and Roman times. Example: there is a Catholic church here called (in translation) Church of the Three Oaks. Mythology buffs out there will put Northern Europe with three oaks and get the cult of Thor. Because of the mountain springs and hence the association of this place making a person physically well, every culture has also made Baden-Baden a place of spiritual left their mark in some way or another. It makes Baden-Baden an even more interesting place to spend a little vacation time in.

Last note: I've had my first German-made pretzal today at a local bakery where I just communicated for the woman to give me whatever she recommended. She handed me the special of the day, an organically made classic verizon of the dozens of varities. So I've achieved another neccessary bread-related cliche of Europe. Baguettes in France followed by pretzels in Germany.

Baden-Baden and Me

"...So nice you have to say it twice." to quote Bill Clinton during a visit here.

This week I am staying at my cousin Jessica's place, taking something of a vaca during my spring break here. If I plan on writing long blog entries as I am used to, I realize that I will have to save them on my USB stick and then load them up before coming to the internet cafe. I feel like a true cheap American thinking, "WHAT! I have to pay to use a computer! Nothing at the library? McDonald's is no good either? What on earth!"

And so on.

However, this may be a good thing for me to lessen my internet time. It makes me sleep more, read more, watch International CNN on Jessica' satellite TV (it is the only channel we're aware of that I'll understand), meditate more, and in the case of today, explore and appreciate Baden-Baden more!

Tonight I'm going to seriously sit down and figure out the week because I know myself that if I don't set out a "To-Do" list, I will contently wittle my days away soaking in mineral spas and drinking lattes and beer at cafes. Realizing that this image is not all quite that aweful, I nevertheless only have a week to get to know this place that I now consider the German's best secret ever.


To be continued later with better planning and more euros for internet money.

Quick Update on the Teacher/Spring Break Thing

Just to let those of you who might be curious for whatever reason, I talked to the 20th Century Literature professor today and her reaction was just the same as the Art History professor's.

Super calm and very unexciting. Just what one wants in a situation like this.

All for now.

Mardi Café

Well, perhaps ironically I didn't go to Mardi Café last night and I'm still going to write about it this morning. Reasons are various and mainly have to do with my last presentation of the year today and an Art History exam (BTW- I have let my art history teacher know about my situation. She was just very pleased I was so open and hoped I would have a good visit with my cousin. Literature is later today). Also, I spent all my going out time in the sun in beautiful 19 degree Celsius weather.

All the same, Mardi Café is a really good experience for the CIDEF student. It is an activity to encourage the mixing and mingling of foreigners and locals to share culture and language over a pint of beer. Incredibly fun and you can expect jumping from one language to another at anytime making it a real exercise of the brain as well. I came up with a list of the bars that tend to be on the Mardi Café list and their different personalities as there is always a bar to suit your mood.

Snooker’s

Directly perpendicular to la gare this is also the Mardi Café bar where you’re most likely to meet non-student locals. It tends to be a favorite for male 20- and 30-somethings who love to watch sports on the huge flat screen TVs. A lively place, if you’re looking to spending quality time with the people with you then you’re best avoiding it. Game night (almost every night) doesn’t leave much room).

Best place to…watch the game with buds, get a Cointreaupolitan, play pool, meet locals

Worst place to…pay for cocktails (said Cointreaupolitan is usually 12 euros…ouch), bring a crowd

Falstaff

La Rue Bressiny’s interpretation of a British pub resembles a college bar but when you have so many American fans that leave tokens of their home universities behind, it is bound to happen. The bartenders obviously love it and also love speaking English. Make really good friends with them and they’ll play your favorite music as soon as they see you in the bar.

This could easily be called the party bar as it attracts the most Anglophones and probably hence the most noise. A good way to jump into a Falstaff evening is to first going to the Kebap, T’Chips, right next door where they exclusively sell “The Falstaff sandwich,” which usually tends to be on special every Tuesday conveniently enough.

Best place to…grab a beer and dance, leave your Alma Mater’s mark

Worst place…to exclusively drink all night because this can be the most expensive bar as well, expect hygiene

K' Lypso

This was the bar I went to for my first Mardi Café. It can be a more intimate atmosphere if you keep to the front. However, if you just want to party already, head to the back where there’s the dance floor. It is hard to choose between Falstaff and K’Lypso whether on or the other if better for dancing. Better to let that be a personal decision.

Again, the bartenders like Anglophones. The two main one is an older man and his much younger, Irish-accented, English speaking employee. Rumor has it that if the Irish-accented bartender likes you and you order in English, he’ll give you a price reduction on your drink. He really loves American girls. I’ll stop there. Here is where one can usually find a 2 euro pint of beer on Tuesdays. It is just too hard to find anything cheaper than that. If you’re a lightweight like me, that ought to be enough to get your cheeks toasty for the whole night and keep you smiling the whole time through. Unless you’re craving one bad, I’d stay away from the cocktail menu. It is just not this bars specialty and you pay more than what a mediocre cocktail is worth.

Best place to…dance, mingle, find some of the cheapest beer to be found in a bar, flirt with an Irish-accented French man

Worst place to…get a cocktail

Soft

I saved my favorite for last. There has been no intention for Soft to be dance-friendly or TV-friendly so be there to just drink and chat. There is no group size limit thanks to the probably non-intentional but ingenious layout of the place. The backroom can be dominated by just one group of dozens of people and throughout the bar are side rooms, an upstairs, booths, etc. to make the ideal place for a group or just two people.

Soft’s strength is their cocktails and they’re always coming up with new ones. It is the perfect place to start your cocktail experiences especially if you stick to keeping on the cheap side, as their most creative cocktails are almost always on Mardi Café special.

They also sell Pringles and sausages here, which can seem random…until you’ve had something to drink. Once, two of my CIDEF friends, Tyler, future Ex-Pat and French/Russian translator, and Mitchell, the angry Canadian, had two pints and soon started trying to convince me that what we all needed was some sausage and chips. It was actually pretty funny as they were incredibly confused as to why they wanted the sausage and chips to badly but there we go. Product placement? Something in the beer? Little bit of both? Ah, well.

Best place to…get a cocktail, get coffee in the afternoon on a rainy day (1 euro petit cafés!), bring a crowd, hide away in one of the many nooks and corners, find clean-ish bathrooms

Worst place to…Dance, “really party”

Le week-end de Pâques

So I went back again to Paris on Saturday. This time it was guided by two CIDEF teachers, one of them my Art History teacher, Madame Rose Lecompte. As seen by this photo of her, she has a very easy-going, happy sort of personality and naturally because of that, she is a constant student favorite.

The purpose of going to Paris for the art history students like me was to visit le Musée D'Orsay. The focus of this museum is to generally pick up where the Louvre stops on the art history time-line. Beginning with some very, very late neo-classicism and romanticism, the Orsay continues until the rise of Dada, Surrealism, cubism, etc. To continue onward, a good general place to go would be Le Centre Pompidou. Growing up in America and going to American museums (specifically thinking about the Chicago Art Institute), the Impressionists are just a natural part of the experience. The late-19th and early-20th nouveau riche Americans LOVED the work and it was fairly cheap too and the French were completely disinterested in it...at the time. It should be good to note that I've always have had an Impressionist-bias. The whole "I paint what I feel." philosophy appeals to the romantic in me.

Concerning the Orsay, my limited exposure to world museums nevertheless tells me that their Manet and realist collections are second to none. One might be able to say the same as well for their Neo-Impressionist paintings. They also display Manet's L'Olympia and Le déjeuner sur l'herbe. With those two along with the other lesser-known paintings by Manet in the museum, one can see the essentials of the artist himself and his style. I leave myself open for argument to fellow art nerds out there.


Now the impressionists themselves?

Yes, they're there. I especially enjoyed seeing Monet's Les coquelicots and his series on the light effects of la cathédrale de Rouen. However, I'm sorry that I still have to say to get the biggest impression of the Impressionists, go to the New York Met or the Chicago Institute.

Still, so worth going to the Orsay all the same.


The other place I visited with the CIDEF students was L'Opéra Garnier. You know that you're in an expensive neighborhood when you're considering it very daring of you to venture a guess at real estate prices. That's what you get when you walk the Haussmann district though. Once we got to the theater though, I found it a lot more fun playing Phantom of the Opera scores in my head. The place begs for it from all who are like me.
Oh, and, yes, that is a "new" coat. AHA was having something of a mini clothing swap the other week and I got a swanky winter coat (at the very beginning of spring, I know.) and a pair of eccentrically bright purple socks. Thanks to Sue, the head coordinator of AHA, for hooking me up! That coat came just in time for the hockey game I mentioned earlier as well!



Finally got a picture of Monsieur's parents! For Easter/Pâques, we had a short but very pleasant visit with them and I have Le Gâteau de Pâques. Basically, it is a heavy cake done in the Breton region style, stuffed completely with prunes. Soooooooo goooooooood. And perfect with tea and/or coffee. Guess what I'm making for next Easter, guys!

After that, the family and I went to Madame's family's Easter gathering. It was very informal and "cool." The youngest cousin was even sporting jeans and a Franklin and Marshall hoodie. Now, there's an interesting Italian brand. The whole purpose was to bring the super, super casual style of American universities to Europe, specifically Italy. I find it to be rather cleaned up and too Europeanized to be really "American." The brand is still very popular in France and Italy at least and of course carries the most expensive hoodies I've ever laid eyes on.

After an amazing, several course dinner, we went exploring the local castle ruins of le Château Pathenay which encircles the original medieval town. It is always more interesting visiting anything with a native and Madame's mother was very pleased to show me all of the old town defenses and how it worked.

This is Monsieur on the left walking Chanel, the Jack Russell/Beagle mix of the Péaud's. One of Madame's brothers (who has traveled to Columbus, Ohio randomly enough) is on the right. Yes, the man is wearing All Star sneakers. They're navy to be exact. He thinks they're the most comfortable things out there.

Here is Monsieur again, keeping Chanel away from attacking a fellow dog. Sundays are jaunting days in France. After lunch, families just get up and talk a Sunday afternoon stroll. Naturally, très joli.


Parthenay unfortunately is yet another dying town in the French countryside due to large companies coming in and taking over the agricultural businesses and jobs moving to the cities like Lille, Lyon, Nice, and Paris.

To the American farmers back home, sound familiar?

Well, I'm going back to reserving hotel room in the Provence region of France. Will try to find ones with a promising WiFi connection. As always, the French WiFi system can disappoint. Chez Péaud is no problem. Just good luck in a supposed WiFi enabled McDonald's. Ugh.

Normandy and a lot of other things to tell

Finally! I get to actually sit down and write stuff! I wasn't thinking I'd be doing so much this week when I said I'd write later. First it was the test and presentation on Monday but then I also studied all day Tuesday and went to the train station where I spent almost two hours working with my MAJOR lack of knowing that the 9th of April is also the start of spring vacation for a lot of French students. So I was extremely limited and forced to take off Friday afternoon and miss two classes, which thankfully do not have tests that day. I swore I'd never do it. Everyone around me was missing classes here and there in order to travel and I told myself, "No, you are way better than that. "

Uh, no, I'm not.

The only proper excuse is sickness according to the school's official rules and of course that isn't happening. I can assure all of you though that I am sick in a sense, darn it. I'm sick for the friendly and familiar face of family, aka, Jessica! However, I think it still may be in my best interest to be open with my teachers about my situation especially considering that if I was a secretary, I wouldn't buy it for a minute that a student was "sick" the Friday before Spring Break. Better to be honest in the beginning than getting caught at the end probably.

So naturally, I couldn’t just continue the serious business of studying into the night after that, so I went to Mardi Café. Mardi Café is one of the best ideas the people of CIDEF/UCO ever thought of. Invite a bunch of foreign and French students to just meet up at the bars and talk. English, French, Spanish, and Chinese are thrown about everywhere over pints of Kronenbourg and the occasional lesser known languages get their spotlight with impromptu tutoring lessons. I love it. Every bar has its own personality and they always have a special going on for Mardi Café. Take the 2 euro pint deals. They are very worth. Alcohol for that quantity doesn’t get much cheaper in that scene. I will very, very soon devote a whole entry just to Mardi Café because it is just necessary.

Wednesday, I took the big test in Social-Cultural and was so happy to get it done! I was even more happy to find out the Ducs (Anger’s Hockey team with the English translation of “owls”) were playing that evening and a bunch of people were going so that’s is where I was last night.

Les Ducs won 3-2. It was very fun though I found myself talking American politics and culture to this guy from Turkey who is interning here in France. This is not the first time I’ve been bombarded with questions about my home country. As an American, one becomes a natural target by all nationalities for political discussion and/or ridicule and it is absolutely necessary to be as diplomatic and non-aggressive as possible. Yet, at the same time, I have a pride issue about my nation I have learned since being here so I give myself the added challenge of not bowing down to every criticism that comes my way about the affaires of my country. I don’t agree with everything the government does. I don’t think we are the best, most perfect nation in the world. However, I know no other country is perfect either.

Being diplomatic just in general though is not always easy. A neutral statement in America is not always considered a neutral statement by another nationality. For example, another American can easily accept saying that one respects Hillary Clinton professionally but finds her personal actions confusing. This is not so for a Frenchman who will then passionately criticize our “ridiculous” concern over the personal lives of our leaders. Even France’s values and priorities can be vastly different than ours despite our shared occidental status.

To finish that story up, the Turkish guy found talking to me very satisfying and thought that I should go into international politics. Also, I apparently remind him of Hillary Clinton…All my conservative Republican friends, leave your "clever" comments for Facebook messaging. I'm talking to you, Ryan.

Maybe though it is my new haircut.

ANYWAY, back to Normandy!

I feel like such a broken record but I felt that this excursion was more than worth my time as an American and as someone who is interested in the culture of Europe. Normandy is a huge part of the culture of Europe and especially France. D-Day is proof that the French have very long, passionate memories, as it is an obvious honor to them to have perfect foreigners buried in their country. They make sure you know it, too, if they get the chance. This has been particularly true for my host family who is still bragging that their last American student that stayed with them is the granddaughter of a D-Day vet.

Words cannot justify the visit. Truly for me Normandy was a pilgrimage more than anything.

I also recommend visiting the German cemetery as well. It is a striking contrast to the American one. In comparison to the brilliant white crosses shining in contrast to the Normandy sky, the dark small one’s of the German cemetery seem to want to blend in. Both are sad but I think the German cemetery is the most somber of all but the strongest communicator of what is to be learned of World War II. I think it is too often forgotten that the German soldiers were men, too, and not Hitler clones. They did their duty for their family and their country and when one comes to their resting place, it is hard not to respect that.

I was actually “corrected” by a fellow American classmate that they shouldn’t be recognized like this with the present cemetery and shrine to peace that we visited, as they were all Nazis. I asked her why she considered them Nazis and she responded because they came from Nazi Germany. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to an ignorant and (not to mention cruel) answer like that, labeling every German citizen of that time a Nazi. Perhaps because of this lack of understanding, it is just as important to recognize the German cemetery as the American one. War is many things but it is not black and white.

I end on an upbeat note! An very American thing (Obama) with a very French thing (Sarkozy) from a French newspaper. According to the paper, they were on their way to a conference. I take it they were pressed for time.