I feel like I didn't really wrap up my Eurotrip details. I wanted to talk about sinks with peddles on which you have to step for the water to work. I wanted to talk about how Europe has a serious issue with bathrooms {you have to pay to use the ones on the street and stores and restaurants won't let you use them unless you buy something - OH and gas stations don't seem to exist either}. So when one is out of the hostel all day running around being a tourist and suddenly needs to use facilities....well like I said, Europe needs to straighten out their snobby bathroom ways. I wanted to talk about my obsession with fake aviators and Martha's obsession with Irish rings and sporty sunglasses. We must have stopped at every tacky souvenir shop and stand to see if we could find those three things. I wanted to make the trip sound as amazing as it was. Yet now, as I contemplate really detailing all of this, I find myself exhausted by it all. We did it. We took pictures. I blogged about it already - some of the memories will just have to stay as memories in my head and not here. It almost takes the magic out of it to continue relating every little thing....Anyway, like I think I've mentioned a few times, the trip was unforgettable and a wonderful experience.
As it stands now, I just got back to Toulouse just days ago from a trip to London! I had a 5 day weekend and knew sitting here in Toulouse would just intensify the loneliness that I've managed to mostly banish this semester. I'll definitely blog about going to London, but before I start on that series I just wanted to take a moment to talk about the present here in Toulouse. The sun is shining (when it's not pouring outside) and the temperature is a cool 50 to 60 each day. The girls are still donning boots, but they are beginning to pair them with skirts and tights instead of leggings. Shorts over tights are a big trend too. The layers of scarves and jackets worn just two months ago has been downsized to pashminas and cardigans. I think it is spring and I couldn't be happier about it !!! Bring on the warmth !
And the future...the title of this post says I'm supposed to talk about the future...I cannot believe I have one or two more class meetings left in my courses. It's ridiculousness! Exams in some courses are in two weeks while others don't happen until mid May. It makes no sense to me really. But what that means is that I begin to have way too much free time again. Although, I bought running/walking (probably more of the latter) so perhaps I can achieve a daily routine of fitness....perhaps. What I know about the future is that these next three weeks are important. I need to soak up all the remaining information that I can and get through some exams. Now if only the movie theatre weren't calling my name and naps in the sunshine didn't sound so appealing.... :-)
~ Tam in Toulouse
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Eurotrip 2011 (Paris prt 2)
The shop wasn't closed! Since it was the end of our adventure, Martha and I allowed ourselves to go a bit crazy buying sweet goodies. I bought a cookie tin which we partially filled with cookies, or biscuits as the French call them, and chocolate covered olives. (Just so you know, chocolate covered olives just taste like chocolate. They don't taste like olives at all. The olives make for the chocolate to be less sweet, but it still tastes just like chocolate.) I also bought a sachet of caramels for a friend. Martha bought a tin of caramels for herself. We dragged each other away from buying anything else and exited the store with out signature mustard yellow La Cure Gourmand bags and our goodies.
We passed back by Notre Dame, and snapped some photos, on our way to the metro. We needed to get all the way across Paris in order to visit Le NordSud restaurant for dinner, and then return for our 9:30 appointment at the Eiffel Tower. I was unsure of how Martha would react to the NordSud. I had only been once and loved it, but the food was 'very' french and could be pricey too. The very same sweet waiter I'd had back in October for my GRE sat us down near the window. He commiserated with me over the fact that they were no longer serving the pasta I had enjoyed back then. Martha and I settled on french onion soup with an appetizer of smoked salmon on toast. *I used to love salmon till I had it tartare here in Toulouse, TWICE, and now the texture turns my stomach a bit.* I ate almost my fair half of the salmon, and thought to myself that hopefully soon I'd get over my recent issue with it. We loved our soup. The wine was lovely as well. Sadly we were in a rush to make our appointment at the Eiffel Tower, so we didn't get to stay for dessert. If I go to Paris again, I WILL visit NordSud again. It's just a fabulous, charming place with great food and great staff.
The Eiffel Tower at night I had already seen. I'd seen it from Trocadero though. This time, Martha and I had gotten tickets for the second observation deck so I'd actually be IN the Eiffel Tower at night. The tower was beautiful as we approached it. She really is magnificent by night all lit up and shining against the velvet sky. From a very short line, we stepped into a huge elevator that took us up to the second observation deck. As we looked out over the city below we were able to make out Sacre Coeur in the distance, Trocadero, the Arch, and Notre Dame. It was really cool to see the boats on the Seine below us. Even more interesting were the little flashes of light from the crowds at Trocadero taking pictures of the Eiffel Tower that we were standing in. The coolest thing, by far about being on the second level was the moment that the tower began to sparkle. A collective intake of breath happened, the flashes at Trocadero quadrupled in quantity, and seemingly everyone on the observation deck lifted their cameras and phones to record the sparkles.
After that, and after we'd looked out from every side of the observation deck and through the souvenir shops, we made our way back to the hostel. It was late, we were tired, but it had been an afternoon and evening in Paris to remember.
The next day we woke up, took the metro out to Charles de Gaule, and came home to Toulouse where showers and naps and junk food happened, photos and videos were shared, short convos with missed boyfriends took place, and final hours were spent recalling all the wonderful things about our adventures over the past 10 days.
We passed back by Notre Dame, and snapped some photos, on our way to the metro. We needed to get all the way across Paris in order to visit Le NordSud restaurant for dinner, and then return for our 9:30 appointment at the Eiffel Tower. I was unsure of how Martha would react to the NordSud. I had only been once and loved it, but the food was 'very' french and could be pricey too. The very same sweet waiter I'd had back in October for my GRE sat us down near the window. He commiserated with me over the fact that they were no longer serving the pasta I had enjoyed back then. Martha and I settled on french onion soup with an appetizer of smoked salmon on toast. *I used to love salmon till I had it tartare here in Toulouse, TWICE, and now the texture turns my stomach a bit.* I ate almost my fair half of the salmon, and thought to myself that hopefully soon I'd get over my recent issue with it. We loved our soup. The wine was lovely as well. Sadly we were in a rush to make our appointment at the Eiffel Tower, so we didn't get to stay for dessert. If I go to Paris again, I WILL visit NordSud again. It's just a fabulous, charming place with great food and great staff.
The Eiffel Tower at night I had already seen. I'd seen it from Trocadero though. This time, Martha and I had gotten tickets for the second observation deck so I'd actually be IN the Eiffel Tower at night. The tower was beautiful as we approached it. She really is magnificent by night all lit up and shining against the velvet sky. From a very short line, we stepped into a huge elevator that took us up to the second observation deck. As we looked out over the city below we were able to make out Sacre Coeur in the distance, Trocadero, the Arch, and Notre Dame. It was really cool to see the boats on the Seine below us. Even more interesting were the little flashes of light from the crowds at Trocadero taking pictures of the Eiffel Tower that we were standing in. The coolest thing, by far about being on the second level was the moment that the tower began to sparkle. A collective intake of breath happened, the flashes at Trocadero quadrupled in quantity, and seemingly everyone on the observation deck lifted their cameras and phones to record the sparkles.
After that, and after we'd looked out from every side of the observation deck and through the souvenir shops, we made our way back to the hostel. It was late, we were tired, but it had been an afternoon and evening in Paris to remember.
The next day we woke up, took the metro out to Charles de Gaule, and came home to Toulouse where showers and naps and junk food happened, photos and videos were shared, short convos with missed boyfriends took place, and final hours were spent recalling all the wonderful things about our adventures over the past 10 days.
Eurotrip 2011 (Paris)
Yes, Paris again. I can't get enough of that city. She shows me something new each time I visit her. So, it was only proper that since Martha was coming to visit me in France, that we actually BE in FRANCE for some time. While Toulouse certainly has a lot of offer, it just HAD to be Paris for the last day of our trip.
We awoke early in the morning to catch our coach and then our plane. As usual, I slept for most of the plane ride (I thank my Mother for this wonderful ability of sleeping like a log). I never thought I would say this, but it was nice to get back to speaking French after our time in Italy. I finally understood what everyone was saying and could converse with ease. That skill helped Martha and I make friends with the French couple sitting next to us on the plane. Since we didn't know Orly airport at all, they kindly offered to help us find the Orlyval train that would take us into inner Paris. Even though we easily found the Orlyval and bought tickets, and even though we knew exactly how to get to the hostel without getting lost, it still took us over two hours from the time we landed in Paris until the time we dropped our bags at the hostel. In the end, I'm thankful that we dropped our bags off since we were out sightseeing until midnight, but at the time all I worried about was the time we were losing.
We hadn't eaten in the morning, nor had we eaten lunch since the lunch hours were spent on the metro traveling to our hostel. Thus, by the time Martha and I popped out of the metro near Notre Dame we were irritable and starving. We looked diagonally across the place..."The American Cafe" read the nearest awning. Were we really going to eat in an establishment, in Paris, that boasted it's American-ness? We didn't care. We just wanted food. The meal was fabulous, and it turns out that the name of the cafe was NOT the American Cafe but rather the' Brasserie des Deux Palais'. The alternate 'title' was simply a little descriptive phrase signifying the bi-lingual staff and the menu made up of 'typical' french dishes according to Americans. It didn't serve American food at all. Instead, it served the same foods a student of french learns in their first years of taking french: omelets, croque monsieurs, croque madames, cappucinos & cafes, baguettes and cheese, etc. We both polished off our coffee (well I had hot chocolate) and our food (a croque madame for Martha and a ham & cheese omelet for me), then made our way across the street to Saint Chapelle.
The entire trip I'd been hearing about how Martha wanted to re-visit Notre Dame. I myself wanted to visit Saint Chapelle which I didn't know much about but had heard that it was one of 'THE' things to see in Paris. With the rain starting to come down and the line into Saint Chapelle getting longer and longer our hope of seeing both before closing time was quickly diminishing. I tried to tell Martha that she should "Go." "See." Notre Dame again. As I pointed out after about twenty minutes of waiting, "I'll probably still be in this line when you get back." Martha was adamant that she would stay with me which I was secretly nervous about. I really didn't want to ruin her one day in Paris by forcing her to see something she had no interest in seeing. She assured me, as if reading my mind, that she was up for seeing something new in Paris. It took over an hour, but when we made it inside I decided the wait in the light rain had been worth it. The base chapel was really orate and pretty. Then we climbed the narrow, stone spiral staircase up to the upper chapel, and my breath was taken away by the sight that greeted our eyes. Surrounding us were the most beautiful stain glass windows I've ever seen rising almost from floor to ceiling, throwing sparkling color around the inside like a jewel box. Just as we'd done in the Sistine Chapel, Martha and I sat in chairs to the side just staring up at all the tiny scenes played out in glass. It was one of the most beautiful things I've seen in Paris apart from Sacre Coeur and the Eiffel Tower.
Almost too soon, but really quite some time later, we made our way across the Ile de la Cite toward Notre Dame. To our surprise, when we entered the church, there was a mass happening. In the very last row we seated ourselves. There was a choir singing so beautifully, the sound carried around the big cathedral in a way that you felt it while you heard it. I never wanted it to stop.This was a Notre Dame I hadn't seen before. The first time I'd visited I remember it being dark and stark and, although impressive, almost unwelcome. This though, this huge space vaulting higher and higher with shining chandeliers and lovely music...this was moving. This was Notre Dame in her glory. I'm really happy that we got to visit when we did, because truthfully I wasn't all that interested in visiting again after my first time. After the mass was over a most curious but wonderful thing happened...
We had neglected finding the address to La Cure Gourmand (the chocolate and pastry shop we found in Carcassonne) in Paris. We were leaving the next morning. I was sure that we wouldn't happen across it in such a big city and, even if we did, it would be closed for the evening.
...As we were sitting in Notre Dame (we had moved closer after the mass) a man waked right in front of us with a medium sized La Cure Gourmand bag. Immediately my hope flared up as I quickly beckoned him and asked where he'd found the shop. "It's quite near here. A 5 minute walk maybe. Let me get my wife, she'll know which street it was on." He beckoned his wife, who then needed to beckon a friend who knew, but within 5 minutes Martha and I were on our way to the shop, crossing our fingers that it wasn't closed.
We awoke early in the morning to catch our coach and then our plane. As usual, I slept for most of the plane ride (I thank my Mother for this wonderful ability of sleeping like a log). I never thought I would say this, but it was nice to get back to speaking French after our time in Italy. I finally understood what everyone was saying and could converse with ease. That skill helped Martha and I make friends with the French couple sitting next to us on the plane. Since we didn't know Orly airport at all, they kindly offered to help us find the Orlyval train that would take us into inner Paris. Even though we easily found the Orlyval and bought tickets, and even though we knew exactly how to get to the hostel without getting lost, it still took us over two hours from the time we landed in Paris until the time we dropped our bags at the hostel. In the end, I'm thankful that we dropped our bags off since we were out sightseeing until midnight, but at the time all I worried about was the time we were losing.
We hadn't eaten in the morning, nor had we eaten lunch since the lunch hours were spent on the metro traveling to our hostel. Thus, by the time Martha and I popped out of the metro near Notre Dame we were irritable and starving. We looked diagonally across the place..."The American Cafe" read the nearest awning. Were we really going to eat in an establishment, in Paris, that boasted it's American-ness? We didn't care. We just wanted food. The meal was fabulous, and it turns out that the name of the cafe was NOT the American Cafe but rather the' Brasserie des Deux Palais'. The alternate 'title' was simply a little descriptive phrase signifying the bi-lingual staff and the menu made up of 'typical' french dishes according to Americans. It didn't serve American food at all. Instead, it served the same foods a student of french learns in their first years of taking french: omelets, croque monsieurs, croque madames, cappucinos & cafes, baguettes and cheese, etc. We both polished off our coffee (well I had hot chocolate) and our food (a croque madame for Martha and a ham & cheese omelet for me), then made our way across the street to Saint Chapelle.
The entire trip I'd been hearing about how Martha wanted to re-visit Notre Dame. I myself wanted to visit Saint Chapelle which I didn't know much about but had heard that it was one of 'THE' things to see in Paris. With the rain starting to come down and the line into Saint Chapelle getting longer and longer our hope of seeing both before closing time was quickly diminishing. I tried to tell Martha that she should "Go." "See." Notre Dame again. As I pointed out after about twenty minutes of waiting, "I'll probably still be in this line when you get back." Martha was adamant that she would stay with me which I was secretly nervous about. I really didn't want to ruin her one day in Paris by forcing her to see something she had no interest in seeing. She assured me, as if reading my mind, that she was up for seeing something new in Paris. It took over an hour, but when we made it inside I decided the wait in the light rain had been worth it. The base chapel was really orate and pretty. Then we climbed the narrow, stone spiral staircase up to the upper chapel, and my breath was taken away by the sight that greeted our eyes. Surrounding us were the most beautiful stain glass windows I've ever seen rising almost from floor to ceiling, throwing sparkling color around the inside like a jewel box. Just as we'd done in the Sistine Chapel, Martha and I sat in chairs to the side just staring up at all the tiny scenes played out in glass. It was one of the most beautiful things I've seen in Paris apart from Sacre Coeur and the Eiffel Tower.
Almost too soon, but really quite some time later, we made our way across the Ile de la Cite toward Notre Dame. To our surprise, when we entered the church, there was a mass happening. In the very last row we seated ourselves. There was a choir singing so beautifully, the sound carried around the big cathedral in a way that you felt it while you heard it. I never wanted it to stop.This was a Notre Dame I hadn't seen before. The first time I'd visited I remember it being dark and stark and, although impressive, almost unwelcome. This though, this huge space vaulting higher and higher with shining chandeliers and lovely music...this was moving. This was Notre Dame in her glory. I'm really happy that we got to visit when we did, because truthfully I wasn't all that interested in visiting again after my first time. After the mass was over a most curious but wonderful thing happened...
We had neglected finding the address to La Cure Gourmand (the chocolate and pastry shop we found in Carcassonne) in Paris. We were leaving the next morning. I was sure that we wouldn't happen across it in such a big city and, even if we did, it would be closed for the evening.
...As we were sitting in Notre Dame (we had moved closer after the mass) a man waked right in front of us with a medium sized La Cure Gourmand bag. Immediately my hope flared up as I quickly beckoned him and asked where he'd found the shop. "It's quite near here. A 5 minute walk maybe. Let me get my wife, she'll know which street it was on." He beckoned his wife, who then needed to beckon a friend who knew, but within 5 minutes Martha and I were on our way to the shop, crossing our fingers that it wasn't closed.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Eurotrip 2011 (Rome prt 5)
Our last meal in Rome was famous, really. The pizzeria we’d chosen from my guide book (Da Baffetto), which looked dodgy to me, was a pizza hotspot, and a line had formed around the corner before it opened. Once inside – I’m glad we got inline before it opened because the line got really long- we were seated in front of the brick oven and the pizza making station. My eyes were mesmerized by the ease with which they spun the little pats of dough into perfectly even circles, then layering the top with copious ingredients, and finally tossing them deep into the oven. I saw no measurements, no timers, no mechanical devices of any kind, and yet every pizza came out perfectly done and perfectly portioned. For the second time on the trip, we finished entire pizzas by ourselves. The red house wine was perfect with our yummy food too! At the end of our meal, while Martha escaped to the restroom, our waiter taught me how to say pizza makers or pizza champions or pizza experts ----actually I’m not sure what he taught me since he spoke no English. He simply pointed to the two cooks, said a phrase and pointed to me. I repeated the phrase a few times and, when I got it right, he stopped another waiter to hear his new student’s progress. I was congratulated by both waiters and smiled at by the two cooks, so I guess whatever I learned was a compliment. Two little postcards were the memento gifties given to us by the owner as we left. It was a good, good meal indeed.
Perfectly located next to the pizzeria was a gelato shop. We’d traditionally been given the option of whipped crème on top of our gelato whenever we bought it. This time, we were given the option of having it dipped in chocolate. Of course we chose to have ‘dipped gelato’ which turned out to be SO yummy. I think that Old Bridge near the Vatican gave us more for our euros, but this place offered the chocolate dip – if I visit Rome again I hope to grab gelato from both again, lots and lots of gelato.
We certainly didn’t have to walk all the way across the city back to our hostel, but we were headed to the Trevi fountain anyway so it wasn’t too long of a walk in the end. Incidentally the midway point, the Trevi fountain, provided us with great last memories of Rome. We ended up meeting a super cute couple from Houston and three girls from the US on Spring Break from their study abroad program in Belgium. Right off the bat we were all old friends, and spent a good while sitting at the fountain drinking wine (graciously provided by the sweet young couple). Little stories were traded back and forth, antics were had, photos were taken, hugs and names were traded, but finally Martha and I needed to get to bed for our early morning. The little American group at the Trevi fountain broke back up into parts, Martha and I headed east toward the hostel. The walk took a while and included the mistake of climbing the Spanish Stairs only to find we needed to descend them again straight away to get to the right road. Then we were back at the hostel and packing for the next morning. Rome was over but it had been great! Granted, I left with a limp and a cold, but Rome had been good to me otherwise. I can’t wait to go back again someday. I have faith that I will because Martha and I threw coins into the Trevi fountain and wished it so!
Perfectly located next to the pizzeria was a gelato shop. We’d traditionally been given the option of whipped crème on top of our gelato whenever we bought it. This time, we were given the option of having it dipped in chocolate. Of course we chose to have ‘dipped gelato’ which turned out to be SO yummy. I think that Old Bridge near the Vatican gave us more for our euros, but this place offered the chocolate dip – if I visit Rome again I hope to grab gelato from both again, lots and lots of gelato.
We certainly didn’t have to walk all the way across the city back to our hostel, but we were headed to the Trevi fountain anyway so it wasn’t too long of a walk in the end. Incidentally the midway point, the Trevi fountain, provided us with great last memories of Rome. We ended up meeting a super cute couple from Houston and three girls from the US on Spring Break from their study abroad program in Belgium. Right off the bat we were all old friends, and spent a good while sitting at the fountain drinking wine (graciously provided by the sweet young couple). Little stories were traded back and forth, antics were had, photos were taken, hugs and names were traded, but finally Martha and I needed to get to bed for our early morning. The little American group at the Trevi fountain broke back up into parts, Martha and I headed east toward the hostel. The walk took a while and included the mistake of climbing the Spanish Stairs only to find we needed to descend them again straight away to get to the right road. Then we were back at the hostel and packing for the next morning. Rome was over but it had been great! Granted, I left with a limp and a cold, but Rome had been good to me otherwise. I can’t wait to go back again someday. I have faith that I will because Martha and I threw coins into the Trevi fountain and wished it so!
Eurotrip 2011 (Rome prt 4)
The third and final day in Rome was both more relaxing and more frustrating than the first two days. It was more relaxing because it was just a day of sightseeing by foot, but it was more frustrating because, at the end of the day, we ran off of free, close-by things to see. I don’t think you could ever run out of things to see in Rome, the tricky, limiting part was not spending any money.
We began at the Piazza della Republica and admired the fountain there. The fountain was surrounded by a traffic circle which lessened its appeal greatly. From there we walked west to the Piazza Barberini. Another pretty fountain greeted us in the shadow of some pretty buildings. We then hiked northwest to the Piazza Trinita dei Monti which is the spot of the white cathedral at the top of the Spanish Steps. Although the obelisk and cathedral were pretty enough, I was more entertained by the spectacular view and by the dozen artists selling paintings of all sizes.
When Ross had finished European Studies he’d brought me a little watercolor of the Pantheon. I really wanted watercolors of some of the other well- known Roman monuments. As Martha explored the church I stayed below examining all the watercolors in hopes of finding the perfect one. My final purchase was a matte of three watercolors depicting the forum, St. Peter’s Square, and the Trevi fountain. It was the perfect combination to sum up the three days in Rome. I’d been telling Martha of the watercolors before we ever got to Rome, so naturally when she saw how pretty my new one was, she was inclined to purchase one too. I really liked the one she purchased! We were both more than happy to tote our art around for the rest of the day and night.
Down the Spanish Steps, with a brief stop by the fountain at the bottom for a few touristy photos of course, then we were on our way to the Trevi fountain. Martha really wanted to see it at night, which was fine with me, but I also wanted to see it in daylight for the comparison. It was so beautiful: a huge wall of sculpture that meets with a large basin of water. It wasn’t quite time for lunch, but it was always time for gelato. Since we were about to sit and contemplate the greatness of the fountain, gelato seemed appropriate. It became trip tradition to stick to our 2 euro price. It was surreal to be sitting at the Trevi fountain eating gelato. Even though we were in Rome, and had been for two days, we still couldn’t help from turning to each other and saying, “We’re in Rome!!!” as if we’d just stepped off the plane.
Of the things we did in Rome I think that the colosseum was my favorite with St. Peter’s in second place and the Trevi fountain in third place.
Walking along the streets, Martha and I ducked into various souvenir shops. I came away with some Murano glass earrings in the shape of tiny rectangles. I already own probably too much green and blue jewelry but that’s the color combo I bought.
Next, after passing the Piazza Colonna and standing in the shadow of the huge sculpted column there, we admired the Pantheon from the outside as we passed it looking for our lunch spot. I think the meal had at Armando Al Pantheon was Martha’s favorite. It was definitely a highlight of the trip that we even ate there at all, considering we got there before it opened and snagged the last table for 2. Apparently the entire lunch crowd had reservations. The interior was very rustic, more like a grandmother’s kitchen with old and new all mismatched together into a perfectly cozy harmony. While I decided on bruschetta roma (bread with oil, tomatoes, salt, and pepper), Martha delightfully munched her artichoke and fresh mozzarella. Afterward we both enjoyed ravioli with mushrooms and white crème sauce. The meal was sheer perfection – the other sit down meals we had in Italy were fantastic but this lunch rose above the rest.
From lunch, we grabbed more gelato (yes gelato both before AND after lunch – which explains the pounds I gained on the trip), seated ourselves at the Pantheon, and took a moment. Inside the Pantheon, which was pretty and structurally impressive, I tried and tried to take really good photos of the dome and the hole in the center of the dome. Martha and I found Raphael’s burial tomb before heading out the door and toward more sights.
We stopped in the Piazza Navona, admiring the three famous fountains there, and the street artists (and the odd political rally winding down). We walked over the Ponte S. Angelo (Angel bridge) taking in the river winding below us and the beautiful cityscapes to either horizon. We walked up to the Piazza Borghese where I thought the Borghese Gallery would be, but it was not. Thus, we strolled down the Via del Corso and then spent some minutes sitting in the Piazza del Popolo trying to figure out our next move. It was still a little bit too early for dinner, and my right knee and ankle were really hurting by now, which made me less inclined to budge. However, Martha suggested catching sunset near the Angel bridge and the Vatican, then walking leisurely toward dinner. That would be the end of our sight seeing for the last day in Rome.
We began at the Piazza della Republica and admired the fountain there. The fountain was surrounded by a traffic circle which lessened its appeal greatly. From there we walked west to the Piazza Barberini. Another pretty fountain greeted us in the shadow of some pretty buildings. We then hiked northwest to the Piazza Trinita dei Monti which is the spot of the white cathedral at the top of the Spanish Steps. Although the obelisk and cathedral were pretty enough, I was more entertained by the spectacular view and by the dozen artists selling paintings of all sizes.
When Ross had finished European Studies he’d brought me a little watercolor of the Pantheon. I really wanted watercolors of some of the other well- known Roman monuments. As Martha explored the church I stayed below examining all the watercolors in hopes of finding the perfect one. My final purchase was a matte of three watercolors depicting the forum, St. Peter’s Square, and the Trevi fountain. It was the perfect combination to sum up the three days in Rome. I’d been telling Martha of the watercolors before we ever got to Rome, so naturally when she saw how pretty my new one was, she was inclined to purchase one too. I really liked the one she purchased! We were both more than happy to tote our art around for the rest of the day and night.
Down the Spanish Steps, with a brief stop by the fountain at the bottom for a few touristy photos of course, then we were on our way to the Trevi fountain. Martha really wanted to see it at night, which was fine with me, but I also wanted to see it in daylight for the comparison. It was so beautiful: a huge wall of sculpture that meets with a large basin of water. It wasn’t quite time for lunch, but it was always time for gelato. Since we were about to sit and contemplate the greatness of the fountain, gelato seemed appropriate. It became trip tradition to stick to our 2 euro price. It was surreal to be sitting at the Trevi fountain eating gelato. Even though we were in Rome, and had been for two days, we still couldn’t help from turning to each other and saying, “We’re in Rome!!!” as if we’d just stepped off the plane.
Of the things we did in Rome I think that the colosseum was my favorite with St. Peter’s in second place and the Trevi fountain in third place.
Walking along the streets, Martha and I ducked into various souvenir shops. I came away with some Murano glass earrings in the shape of tiny rectangles. I already own probably too much green and blue jewelry but that’s the color combo I bought.
Next, after passing the Piazza Colonna and standing in the shadow of the huge sculpted column there, we admired the Pantheon from the outside as we passed it looking for our lunch spot. I think the meal had at Armando Al Pantheon was Martha’s favorite. It was definitely a highlight of the trip that we even ate there at all, considering we got there before it opened and snagged the last table for 2. Apparently the entire lunch crowd had reservations. The interior was very rustic, more like a grandmother’s kitchen with old and new all mismatched together into a perfectly cozy harmony. While I decided on bruschetta roma (bread with oil, tomatoes, salt, and pepper), Martha delightfully munched her artichoke and fresh mozzarella. Afterward we both enjoyed ravioli with mushrooms and white crème sauce. The meal was sheer perfection – the other sit down meals we had in Italy were fantastic but this lunch rose above the rest.
From lunch, we grabbed more gelato (yes gelato both before AND after lunch – which explains the pounds I gained on the trip), seated ourselves at the Pantheon, and took a moment. Inside the Pantheon, which was pretty and structurally impressive, I tried and tried to take really good photos of the dome and the hole in the center of the dome. Martha and I found Raphael’s burial tomb before heading out the door and toward more sights.
We stopped in the Piazza Navona, admiring the three famous fountains there, and the street artists (and the odd political rally winding down). We walked over the Ponte S. Angelo (Angel bridge) taking in the river winding below us and the beautiful cityscapes to either horizon. We walked up to the Piazza Borghese where I thought the Borghese Gallery would be, but it was not. Thus, we strolled down the Via del Corso and then spent some minutes sitting in the Piazza del Popolo trying to figure out our next move. It was still a little bit too early for dinner, and my right knee and ankle were really hurting by now, which made me less inclined to budge. However, Martha suggested catching sunset near the Angel bridge and the Vatican, then walking leisurely toward dinner. That would be the end of our sight seeing for the last day in Rome.
Eurotrip 2011 (Rome prt 3)
“It’s so surreal!”
That phrase seemed to be the motto for the second day in Rome.
Standing in the Colosseum, the place that we’d heard about for our entire lives and especially through Humanities at Sewanee, imagining the seats lined with thousands of Roman citizens, we simply couldn’t believe that we were IN THE COLOSSEUM!!!
I’m really glad that we chose the half-hour guided tour and combination ticket to the Forum. The coolest part, to me, about the tour was being taken onto a platform hanging out over the ‘underground’ portion of the colosseum. In ancient times we would have been standing on the ground of the colosseum, over the tunnels where the animals were kept. Thanks to the wooden platform we could look down into the tunnels as well as up into the stands, thus really getting a feel for what it would have been like as a gladiator. We could have spent much more time just admiring the views of Rome through the arches. We could have sat baking in the Roman sunshine or making our way around and around and around again. Unfortunately, we allowed ourselves a little over an hour and then dragged ourselves to the exit at a very leisurely pace.
Outside the colosseum, I just HAD to get pictures with the gladiators. I knew they’d charge for them (I’m bad at bargaining, and ended up paying more than I liked). I was also a bit disappointed that they weren’t fiercer and didn’t look menacing in our photos. All in all though I really like the pictures - with the triumphal arch in the background there’s no doubt I am in Rome, being uber-touristy at the colosseum.
We’re not going to discuss the pizza bread type lunch from a snack stand outside the colosseum – all there is to say is that it’s better to starve…
The Forum was not as I imagined it. I imagined something more like the Acropolis in Greece and what I got was a hike on a plateau and a whole lot of ruins. Not that it wasn’t impressive, because it was, but the concept in my head was more ambitious that the actual result. I think if I go back to Rome I will look up some of the history of the Roman Palatin (the plateau/hill on which the forum sits) so that I can better appreciate the various temples and houses we came across. Interestingly, Rome has orange trees and palm trees, which surprised Martha and I. The two types of trees in particular made the palatin and forum more oasis-like. Adding to atmosphere was the sound of multiple little fountains dotted about. We were happy to be able to fill up our nalgenes regularly. I feel like I’m not doing justice to the historic site – it was a fantastic couple of hours we spent exploring the ruins, truly!
From there we caught a bus to the Callisto catacombs. Just like France, apparently Italy holds the idea that bus times are a suggestion and not a strict guideline – I think we waited almost 45 minutes for the bus. Touring the catacombs was interesting although half the time I couldn’t understand our guide who seemed to be talking at 90 mph. Maybe I was just fatigued from the full morning. I would like to do other catacombs if I get back to Rome, and walk to Appian Way as well. When our bus was driving down the Appian Way, the oldest remaining road in Rome, the walls on either side of the road were within a foot on either side of our bus. The driver amazed me with his skill in not hitting bikers, walkers, and somehow managing not to rub the bus against the walls.
By then, just like the day before, it was too early for dinner, but Martha and I were hungry. So, we picked a gelato place around the Capitol near the Forum and headed there as night fell. We’d already stopped by the Colosseum once more on my behalf since I desperately wanted sunset pictures of the huge, arched, monument. The gelato was found and enjoyed as we slowly picked our way through the streets toward our dinner place.
Dinner was yummy: a meat platter, a cheese board, some bread and wine. What the food lacked in portion the restaurant made up for in atmosphere. The Montecarlo was a nice little restaurant with wooden booths and dark wooden beams throughout. The walls were adorned with photography and paintings (all for sale at outrageous prices). The thing that fascinated my easily entertained self was the wine storage. The wines weren’t stored in a cave or some cabinet; no, they were perched on the tops of the wooden beams throughout the room! After we ordered our bottle for dinner, the waitress reached up with a hooked stick, grabbed a bottle from the top of the beam and brought it down for us. Besides the beams (which made me feel a bit like I was in a forest) being decorative, they also served a purpose. After a simple, very simple as you can see, Italian dinner, it was back to the hostel for bed.
That phrase seemed to be the motto for the second day in Rome.
Standing in the Colosseum, the place that we’d heard about for our entire lives and especially through Humanities at Sewanee, imagining the seats lined with thousands of Roman citizens, we simply couldn’t believe that we were IN THE COLOSSEUM!!!
I’m really glad that we chose the half-hour guided tour and combination ticket to the Forum. The coolest part, to me, about the tour was being taken onto a platform hanging out over the ‘underground’ portion of the colosseum. In ancient times we would have been standing on the ground of the colosseum, over the tunnels where the animals were kept. Thanks to the wooden platform we could look down into the tunnels as well as up into the stands, thus really getting a feel for what it would have been like as a gladiator. We could have spent much more time just admiring the views of Rome through the arches. We could have sat baking in the Roman sunshine or making our way around and around and around again. Unfortunately, we allowed ourselves a little over an hour and then dragged ourselves to the exit at a very leisurely pace.
Outside the colosseum, I just HAD to get pictures with the gladiators. I knew they’d charge for them (I’m bad at bargaining, and ended up paying more than I liked). I was also a bit disappointed that they weren’t fiercer and didn’t look menacing in our photos. All in all though I really like the pictures - with the triumphal arch in the background there’s no doubt I am in Rome, being uber-touristy at the colosseum.
We’re not going to discuss the pizza bread type lunch from a snack stand outside the colosseum – all there is to say is that it’s better to starve…
The Forum was not as I imagined it. I imagined something more like the Acropolis in Greece and what I got was a hike on a plateau and a whole lot of ruins. Not that it wasn’t impressive, because it was, but the concept in my head was more ambitious that the actual result. I think if I go back to Rome I will look up some of the history of the Roman Palatin (the plateau/hill on which the forum sits) so that I can better appreciate the various temples and houses we came across. Interestingly, Rome has orange trees and palm trees, which surprised Martha and I. The two types of trees in particular made the palatin and forum more oasis-like. Adding to atmosphere was the sound of multiple little fountains dotted about. We were happy to be able to fill up our nalgenes regularly. I feel like I’m not doing justice to the historic site – it was a fantastic couple of hours we spent exploring the ruins, truly!
From there we caught a bus to the Callisto catacombs. Just like France, apparently Italy holds the idea that bus times are a suggestion and not a strict guideline – I think we waited almost 45 minutes for the bus. Touring the catacombs was interesting although half the time I couldn’t understand our guide who seemed to be talking at 90 mph. Maybe I was just fatigued from the full morning. I would like to do other catacombs if I get back to Rome, and walk to Appian Way as well. When our bus was driving down the Appian Way, the oldest remaining road in Rome, the walls on either side of the road were within a foot on either side of our bus. The driver amazed me with his skill in not hitting bikers, walkers, and somehow managing not to rub the bus against the walls.
By then, just like the day before, it was too early for dinner, but Martha and I were hungry. So, we picked a gelato place around the Capitol near the Forum and headed there as night fell. We’d already stopped by the Colosseum once more on my behalf since I desperately wanted sunset pictures of the huge, arched, monument. The gelato was found and enjoyed as we slowly picked our way through the streets toward our dinner place.
Dinner was yummy: a meat platter, a cheese board, some bread and wine. What the food lacked in portion the restaurant made up for in atmosphere. The Montecarlo was a nice little restaurant with wooden booths and dark wooden beams throughout. The walls were adorned with photography and paintings (all for sale at outrageous prices). The thing that fascinated my easily entertained self was the wine storage. The wines weren’t stored in a cave or some cabinet; no, they were perched on the tops of the wooden beams throughout the room! After we ordered our bottle for dinner, the waitress reached up with a hooked stick, grabbed a bottle from the top of the beam and brought it down for us. Besides the beams (which made me feel a bit like I was in a forest) being decorative, they also served a purpose. After a simple, very simple as you can see, Italian dinner, it was back to the hostel for bed.
Eurotrip 2011 (Rome prt 2)
"It's not as big as I imagined."
"Tamra, we're not even IN the Vatican yet."
"Yes we are...we walked through the stone pillars. St. Peter's Square IS in the Vatican."
"Okay, but we're just BARELY in the Vatican. It will be big, there's a whole lot more to it, you'll see..."
--Then, just as we are about to mount the stairs into St. Peter's Basilica... --
"It IS big !!!"
Our first day in Rome was spent exploring St. Peter's Basilica, hanging out in St. Peter's Square, and roaming through the Vatican Museums.
St. Peter's Basilica is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! I thought Sacre Coeur had that top honor. I've seen the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. I've been inside gorgeous and ancient cathedrals in quite a few top cities in the world. But, St. Peter's...... it's indescribably, takes your breath away, magnificent. We strolled around the inside taking pictures and taking moments to just gaze at the beauty. (We learned the next day that a lot of the material used for St. Peter's came from the Colosseum and from the Forum. I can only imagine, knowing how great the basilica is, how fantastically gorgeous those places must have been in their prime.) I wish I could detail all the wonderful things we saw, all the decorations and statues, but it would take forever. It will have to do for me to say that I could easily visit Rome again and spend yet another day just sitting inside, soaking up the atmosphere.
The Vatican Museums are everything you've ever heard. Miles and miles and rooms and rooms of famous works of art. I snapped a few pictures of the ones I knew, but all I really cared about seeing, were the grand spiral staircase and the Sistine Chapel. We meandered through the museums, overwhelming our eyes with splendor. Thank goodness we shared an audio headset to guide us through and tell us what we were looking at; without it we would have been helpless. I really love museums, but there's so much art that I do not know that it's hard to appreciate it all. I feel like my eyes don't know where to look sometimes. The audio guide map showed a short cut to the Sistine Chapel (apparently we missed out on the Raphael rooms -oops!). The Sistine Chapel looks so big in pictures. Really it's smaller than All Saints' in Sewanee. Yet, it is really impressive in its' coziness. We must have spent an hour just sitting on a bench to the side staring around at the walls with our heads pressed together listening to the history behind the chapel. Guards were stationed in the room, lots of them, and they repeatedly kept shushing the crowd back into awed whispers. Although it was clearly posted, the guards had to remind people over and over not to take pictures. It was only on the other side of a wooden barrier on the far end of the room that cameras were out. I snapped two photos and then we left... After some more rooms we finally came to the exit. I took the opportunity to send a fancy postcard complete with fancy stamp. Then we walked down the famous double helix spiral staircase to exit the museum.
Even writing about it all reminds me of how tired we were by the end of the museum visit, and it was only the afternoon by then! So, what does one do when one is tired and it's not time for dinner? Well one gets gelato of course! We found the greatest little gelato place (Old Bridge) walking back down toward St. Peter's Square where they loaded our little cones to overflowing with yummy gelato for only 2 euros. We spent the time until Ash Wednesday mass enjoying our sweet treat seated beside one of the fountains in the square and reveling in the warm sunshine.
The Ash Wednesday mass in St. Peter's basilica was really nice. Even though I had no idea what they were saying it was still important and solemn and understood that it was a very important worship ceremony. The ceremony wasn't any prettier or grander than similar ones I've attended in Sewanee, but being the basilica did lend the experience a certain something special. I am quite aware that I am not Catholic, and I don't care what people think, I was SO excited to worship in the basilica and to have ashes put on my head! Just because I am a Protestant, that doesn't impede me finding meaning in such a ceremony. In fact, I quite liked celebrating Ash Wednesday. As we exited St. Peter's after mass, we were greeted by a pretty sunset to end our day at the Vatican.
For dinner we found our way to a place in the area called La Abruzzese. The waitress and matron of the establishment spoke no English, but she and I managed pretty well with my mix of broken Italian and French. Martha and I were served a wonderful meal of pizza with wine and water to drink. Both of us had no problem finishing the pizzas that were larger than our heads. Nor did we have trouble finishing the bottle of wine and the one of water. Full tummies and tired feet were what we had when we arrived back at the hostel to climb into our beds for sleep. The first long day in Rome had been lovely!
"Tamra, we're not even IN the Vatican yet."
"Yes we are...we walked through the stone pillars. St. Peter's Square IS in the Vatican."
"Okay, but we're just BARELY in the Vatican. It will be big, there's a whole lot more to it, you'll see..."
--Then, just as we are about to mount the stairs into St. Peter's Basilica... --
"It IS big !!!"
Our first day in Rome was spent exploring St. Peter's Basilica, hanging out in St. Peter's Square, and roaming through the Vatican Museums.
St. Peter's Basilica is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! I thought Sacre Coeur had that top honor. I've seen the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. I've been inside gorgeous and ancient cathedrals in quite a few top cities in the world. But, St. Peter's...... it's indescribably, takes your breath away, magnificent. We strolled around the inside taking pictures and taking moments to just gaze at the beauty. (We learned the next day that a lot of the material used for St. Peter's came from the Colosseum and from the Forum. I can only imagine, knowing how great the basilica is, how fantastically gorgeous those places must have been in their prime.) I wish I could detail all the wonderful things we saw, all the decorations and statues, but it would take forever. It will have to do for me to say that I could easily visit Rome again and spend yet another day just sitting inside, soaking up the atmosphere.
The Vatican Museums are everything you've ever heard. Miles and miles and rooms and rooms of famous works of art. I snapped a few pictures of the ones I knew, but all I really cared about seeing, were the grand spiral staircase and the Sistine Chapel. We meandered through the museums, overwhelming our eyes with splendor. Thank goodness we shared an audio headset to guide us through and tell us what we were looking at; without it we would have been helpless. I really love museums, but there's so much art that I do not know that it's hard to appreciate it all. I feel like my eyes don't know where to look sometimes. The audio guide map showed a short cut to the Sistine Chapel (apparently we missed out on the Raphael rooms -oops!). The Sistine Chapel looks so big in pictures. Really it's smaller than All Saints' in Sewanee. Yet, it is really impressive in its' coziness. We must have spent an hour just sitting on a bench to the side staring around at the walls with our heads pressed together listening to the history behind the chapel. Guards were stationed in the room, lots of them, and they repeatedly kept shushing the crowd back into awed whispers. Although it was clearly posted, the guards had to remind people over and over not to take pictures. It was only on the other side of a wooden barrier on the far end of the room that cameras were out. I snapped two photos and then we left... After some more rooms we finally came to the exit. I took the opportunity to send a fancy postcard complete with fancy stamp. Then we walked down the famous double helix spiral staircase to exit the museum.
Even writing about it all reminds me of how tired we were by the end of the museum visit, and it was only the afternoon by then! So, what does one do when one is tired and it's not time for dinner? Well one gets gelato of course! We found the greatest little gelato place (Old Bridge) walking back down toward St. Peter's Square where they loaded our little cones to overflowing with yummy gelato for only 2 euros. We spent the time until Ash Wednesday mass enjoying our sweet treat seated beside one of the fountains in the square and reveling in the warm sunshine.
The Ash Wednesday mass in St. Peter's basilica was really nice. Even though I had no idea what they were saying it was still important and solemn and understood that it was a very important worship ceremony. The ceremony wasn't any prettier or grander than similar ones I've attended in Sewanee, but being the basilica did lend the experience a certain something special. I am quite aware that I am not Catholic, and I don't care what people think, I was SO excited to worship in the basilica and to have ashes put on my head! Just because I am a Protestant, that doesn't impede me finding meaning in such a ceremony. In fact, I quite liked celebrating Ash Wednesday. As we exited St. Peter's after mass, we were greeted by a pretty sunset to end our day at the Vatican.
For dinner we found our way to a place in the area called La Abruzzese. The waitress and matron of the establishment spoke no English, but she and I managed pretty well with my mix of broken Italian and French. Martha and I were served a wonderful meal of pizza with wine and water to drink. Both of us had no problem finishing the pizzas that were larger than our heads. Nor did we have trouble finishing the bottle of wine and the one of water. Full tummies and tired feet were what we had when we arrived back at the hostel to climb into our beds for sleep. The first long day in Rome had been lovely!
Eurotrip 2011 (Rome)
Martha and I were exhausted after Dublin...we really were. We'd spent both day and night exploring the city and sleeping less than desired. She was very strong and stayed awake reading 'The Hobbit' all during the flight to Rome. I, on the other hand, who can sleep anytime, anywhere, in any position, slept the entire 3 hours (except for the brief 5 minutes I was awoken in order to see the huge snowy mountains below). That first night in Rome we needed sleep, lots of sleep, and so that's exactly what we did.
It greatly interested me that we stayed in a mixed hostel room. I wasn't worried or embarrassed to be in the same room with guys. I just didn't know how clean they would be or if they would snore. When you are in close quarters and need sleep, those two worries become quite important. Thankfully, the boys were quite clean and organized and they did not snore. The guys, from Egypt for the first two nights, then from Argentina the next two, were quite well behaved indeed!
The hostel for Rome, the Alessandro Downtown was less friendly than Abigail's in Dublin, but it boasted more amenities and a really nice hall bathroom in which every WC included a sink. The morning and nighttime sharing of the bathroom that Martha and I endured in Dublin was solved in Rome. We were also able to wash our clothes (conveniently at the midpoint of our trip).
I suppose our assault on the city of Rome was more premeditated than Dublin. We only had three short days, one of which would be devoted to the Vatican, another devoted to the Colosseum and Forum, and the last day we knew we'd visit Trevi fountain. In Dublin there were lots of little things to visit. In Rome we wanted to hit the biggest things first.
The mornings were earlier in Rome, but the nights, sans Irish pubs, were shorter and allowed for enough sleep. It was a good thing that we rested more, because the walking was more strenuous in Rome. When it had taken us ten minutes to walk somewhere in Dublin from our hostel, it was suddenly taking that long to get to the metro stop. I actually ended up hobbling for the last day in Rome and the day in Paris. I don't know how it happened but I upset something behind my right knee. Despite the hobbling, and only having three days in such an amazing city, we were able to explore Rome and have a ton of fun!!!
It greatly interested me that we stayed in a mixed hostel room. I wasn't worried or embarrassed to be in the same room with guys. I just didn't know how clean they would be or if they would snore. When you are in close quarters and need sleep, those two worries become quite important. Thankfully, the boys were quite clean and organized and they did not snore. The guys, from Egypt for the first two nights, then from Argentina the next two, were quite well behaved indeed!
The hostel for Rome, the Alessandro Downtown was less friendly than Abigail's in Dublin, but it boasted more amenities and a really nice hall bathroom in which every WC included a sink. The morning and nighttime sharing of the bathroom that Martha and I endured in Dublin was solved in Rome. We were also able to wash our clothes (conveniently at the midpoint of our trip).
I suppose our assault on the city of Rome was more premeditated than Dublin. We only had three short days, one of which would be devoted to the Vatican, another devoted to the Colosseum and Forum, and the last day we knew we'd visit Trevi fountain. In Dublin there were lots of little things to visit. In Rome we wanted to hit the biggest things first.
The mornings were earlier in Rome, but the nights, sans Irish pubs, were shorter and allowed for enough sleep. It was a good thing that we rested more, because the walking was more strenuous in Rome. When it had taken us ten minutes to walk somewhere in Dublin from our hostel, it was suddenly taking that long to get to the metro stop. I actually ended up hobbling for the last day in Rome and the day in Paris. I don't know how it happened but I upset something behind my right knee. Despite the hobbling, and only having three days in such an amazing city, we were able to explore Rome and have a ton of fun!!!
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Eurotrip 2011 (Dublin prt 5)
I love food! I don't cook well, nor do I eat at fancy restaurants, but I KNOW something good when I taste it-Ross always chuckles at me because my mouth changes into a little smile and my eyes close. There's no other way I know except to LOVE my food!!! In Dublin I really enjoyed everything we did, including the multiple amazing restaurants we ate in and the new meal ideas we came across. So here are a few...
On O'Connell street we found our way into a pub serving Irish Breakfast. The menu made it clear, to the Irish, what that meant, but to Martha and I the ensemble still made no sense. When our plates arrived the term ' irish breakfast' came to life, but we still didn't exactly know what we were about to put into our mouths. The confusion came from the use of Irish terms on the menu. Then when the food arrived there were a couple of little cakes our plate that looked like sausage rounds but tasted like oats. I suppose it didn't matter what the technical terms were for the yummy things we ate because we both cleaned our plates. Tomatoes, ppotato wedges, beans, two different sausage-oat cakes, a sausage link, eggs, toast, and mushrooms all mixed together (AND I HATE MIXING FOODS which is a testament to how good the combo was) for a wonderful meal!
What is a boxty? Even after eating boxty or a boxty I still couldn't quite describe it except to say it's in between and crepe and a pancake which is then filled like a burrito with anything you want. Since before we went to Dublin, I had been telling Martha that we must visit Gallagher's Boxty House. We finally made it there on our last night, thus finally learning how fantastic boxty is! We ordered a meat and vegetable boxty which ended up looking like a large chili filled pancake roll and, while it sounds disgusting, it tasted wonderful. Perfectly cooked carrots, delicious lamb, little chunks of potato, and a chili like sauce filled our tummies with warmth. If I go back to Ireland and I see boxty offered at a restaurant I will most definitely be entering to dine.
Lumpy Bumpy was a dessert encountered in Bewely's on Grafton. We were in such a hurry before a pub crawl to get in a good dinner and almost didn't get in dessert. I am SO GLAD we did. The name is a bit odd and there's no lumpy or bumpy in the cake, but perhaps if you eat enough you will become lumpy and bumpy. Lumpy Bumpy, now that I have been blessed to eat it, is a caramel and vanilla layer cake with buttercreme and caramel icing on top and whipped creme. It was light and sweet, but not too sweet, and so creamy and ....just GOOD! Oh and the food at Bewley's was scrumptious as well, but I am all about dessert!
Gogarty's for lunch on the last day (as if to prolong the good times had the night before at the same location) left me loving Dublin food and sad to leave the city. Martha dug into a little pot pie served in the same dish it was cooked in; the plate it was sitting on was heaped with side items. I devoured my seafood chowder, enjoying each and every mouthful. Again, as always, we were running a bit late but decided to chuck our set schedule and enjoy the Irish cheese platter we'd ordered. I can't honestly list the cheeses but my goodness they were yummy! To be honest, I was fearful of a deep yellow wedge streaked with a dark green almost black veins...Despite it's horrid appearance, the cheese turned out to be less strong than a blue. It was kind of sweet in fact. The amount and quality of food we were served was worth so much more than our bill demanded. Gogarty's drinks, food, and music are something I can't wait to get back to my next time in Dublin!
Ah the Queen of Tarts - not hearts - TARTS! I found the little bakery/restaurant online on every top ten restaurants list I came across, and I knew we HAD to go. If there was one restaurant in Dublin that I would walk forever to find or pay whatever to eat at, it was going to be the Queen of Tarts. The day we spent in cathedrals and the castle we were obliged to walk past the little restaurant just at the perfect time...LUNCH. So, pushing open the award littered door, we stepped into a fifteen foot by fifteen foot eating area with a counter brimming with pastries at the very back. Maybe a dozen tiny tables filled the space. I wanted to eat everything in the restaurant. Savory soups, hearty sandwiches and wraps, pastries and pies and mouth watering baked goods.... I debated overstuffing my self and also getting things to go since I knew we wouldn't be coming back (it was a bit far from the city center). Our tea arrived in a cute red teapot. The teacups seemed to be real china - the fact that they were mismatched added charm. The 'tart' that I got, actually more of a quiche, was filled with cheese and vegetables that I would never eat on my own (carrots and eggplant) but they were fantastic together. Martha loved her sandwich on homemade bread. Finally and, you guessed it, running late, we ordered dessert scones! We briefly talked about taking our scones to go, but neither of us wanted to pass up a few more minutes in the calm tea-room atmosphere and sacrifice the butter and cream that came with our little treats. (Even as I sit here writing about the scones I'm feeling suddenly desirous of visiting the bakery on my block). The scones were huge and dense and filled with raspberries. The Queen of Tarts gets credit for serving me the best scone of my life! I can't even describe that goodness, and most assuredly I was completely full from the meal, but the scones were so good I wanted at least 5 for the road. I didn't order 5 for the road unfortunately but when I visit again I shall!!!
On O'Connell street we found our way into a pub serving Irish Breakfast. The menu made it clear, to the Irish, what that meant, but to Martha and I the ensemble still made no sense. When our plates arrived the term ' irish breakfast' came to life, but we still didn't exactly know what we were about to put into our mouths. The confusion came from the use of Irish terms on the menu. Then when the food arrived there were a couple of little cakes our plate that looked like sausage rounds but tasted like oats. I suppose it didn't matter what the technical terms were for the yummy things we ate because we both cleaned our plates. Tomatoes, ppotato wedges, beans, two different sausage-oat cakes, a sausage link, eggs, toast, and mushrooms all mixed together (AND I HATE MIXING FOODS which is a testament to how good the combo was) for a wonderful meal!
What is a boxty? Even after eating boxty or a boxty I still couldn't quite describe it except to say it's in between and crepe and a pancake which is then filled like a burrito with anything you want. Since before we went to Dublin, I had been telling Martha that we must visit Gallagher's Boxty House. We finally made it there on our last night, thus finally learning how fantastic boxty is! We ordered a meat and vegetable boxty which ended up looking like a large chili filled pancake roll and, while it sounds disgusting, it tasted wonderful. Perfectly cooked carrots, delicious lamb, little chunks of potato, and a chili like sauce filled our tummies with warmth. If I go back to Ireland and I see boxty offered at a restaurant I will most definitely be entering to dine.
Lumpy Bumpy was a dessert encountered in Bewely's on Grafton. We were in such a hurry before a pub crawl to get in a good dinner and almost didn't get in dessert. I am SO GLAD we did. The name is a bit odd and there's no lumpy or bumpy in the cake, but perhaps if you eat enough you will become lumpy and bumpy. Lumpy Bumpy, now that I have been blessed to eat it, is a caramel and vanilla layer cake with buttercreme and caramel icing on top and whipped creme. It was light and sweet, but not too sweet, and so creamy and ....just GOOD! Oh and the food at Bewley's was scrumptious as well, but I am all about dessert!
Gogarty's for lunch on the last day (as if to prolong the good times had the night before at the same location) left me loving Dublin food and sad to leave the city. Martha dug into a little pot pie served in the same dish it was cooked in; the plate it was sitting on was heaped with side items. I devoured my seafood chowder, enjoying each and every mouthful. Again, as always, we were running a bit late but decided to chuck our set schedule and enjoy the Irish cheese platter we'd ordered. I can't honestly list the cheeses but my goodness they were yummy! To be honest, I was fearful of a deep yellow wedge streaked with a dark green almost black veins...Despite it's horrid appearance, the cheese turned out to be less strong than a blue. It was kind of sweet in fact. The amount and quality of food we were served was worth so much more than our bill demanded. Gogarty's drinks, food, and music are something I can't wait to get back to my next time in Dublin!
Ah the Queen of Tarts - not hearts - TARTS! I found the little bakery/restaurant online on every top ten restaurants list I came across, and I knew we HAD to go. If there was one restaurant in Dublin that I would walk forever to find or pay whatever to eat at, it was going to be the Queen of Tarts. The day we spent in cathedrals and the castle we were obliged to walk past the little restaurant just at the perfect time...LUNCH. So, pushing open the award littered door, we stepped into a fifteen foot by fifteen foot eating area with a counter brimming with pastries at the very back. Maybe a dozen tiny tables filled the space. I wanted to eat everything in the restaurant. Savory soups, hearty sandwiches and wraps, pastries and pies and mouth watering baked goods.... I debated overstuffing my self and also getting things to go since I knew we wouldn't be coming back (it was a bit far from the city center). Our tea arrived in a cute red teapot. The teacups seemed to be real china - the fact that they were mismatched added charm. The 'tart' that I got, actually more of a quiche, was filled with cheese and vegetables that I would never eat on my own (carrots and eggplant) but they were fantastic together. Martha loved her sandwich on homemade bread. Finally and, you guessed it, running late, we ordered dessert scones! We briefly talked about taking our scones to go, but neither of us wanted to pass up a few more minutes in the calm tea-room atmosphere and sacrifice the butter and cream that came with our little treats. (Even as I sit here writing about the scones I'm feeling suddenly desirous of visiting the bakery on my block). The scones were huge and dense and filled with raspberries. The Queen of Tarts gets credit for serving me the best scone of my life! I can't even describe that goodness, and most assuredly I was completely full from the meal, but the scones were so good I wanted at least 5 for the road. I didn't order 5 for the road unfortunately but when I visit again I shall!!!
Friday, March 18, 2011
Eurotrip 2011 (Dublin prt 4)
I could talk about all the things we visited/saw/toured: The Book of Kells, Trinity College, The National Gallery, Joyce Center, Hop-on-Hop-off bus tour, Guinness factory, Jameson distillery, St Patrick’s Cathedral, Christchurch Cathedral, Dublin Castle, National Library & Yeats Exposition, Abbey Theatre, Pearse Train Station, Oscar Wilde Memorial, Dublin Spire etc. The pubs we lounged in, famous bridges we crossed, and the streets we strolled make for equally good memories. Yet, out of all the things we did, the two things that stick out in my mind as overwhelmingly blissful (I say ‘overwhelmingly’ because Dublin was blissful and everything we did was amazing) are Gogarty’s pub and the Leprechaun Museum.
Gogarty’s pub was the meeting place for the musical pub crawl, and at the time, Martha and I were wary of it because it’s located in the Temple Bar area. Our last night in Dublin, after a very filling dinner, when our feet couldn’t handle more walking, Gogarty’s lured us in and up to the second floor where we spent hours of enjoyment. We heard one traditional Irish band for a while. Then two ridiculously talented Irish dancers took the floor for half an hour. Afterward a second Irish band took the stage. We stayed for about 5 hours, most of which were spent on stools at a wooden bar set before the stage, beating along with the band and singing the lyrics that we knew. Over the hours we made a couple of acquaintances and had a couple pints, we bought a CD from the band, and although we finished the night about 30 minutes before the bar closed, we left with huge grins and the feeling that our night couldn’t have been any more perfect.
The Leprechaun Museum was a random idea indeed. Our first day in Dublin Martha had seen a sign for it, but we neglected it until the last few hours before heading to the airport. There’s not a huge wealth of Leprechaun information I would call ‘museum worthy’, so we were unsure what we’d find. The museum turned out to be SO FUN!!! It is definitely a museum geared toward a younger crowd (aka pre-teen children), but the only other people in the museum were three other American girls around our age who were equally thrilled about Leprechauns, so the guide gave us the mature content and a ton of details. The museum is designed to be a journey through different themed rooms. Martha and I had a fantastic time in the first room where everything was giant sized. We climbed up onto chairs fifteen feet tall and handled a teacup larger than a family sized casserole dish. It was like being a little kid again when life was all about climbing and pretending. After a few more themed rooms ranging from solely informative to solely entertaining we found our way to a pot of gold. Martha, me, and the other girls perched on the rim of the large bowl and listened to leprechaun information from the guide. In yet another room we found ourselves within a forest. Another room with colored string from the ceiling took us through a veritable rainbow. By the end we were laughing and giggling - I think we re-found some of the happiness we'd depleted from travel stresses. You were allowed to color a picture at the very end which the museum would stick in a frame on the wall. Pictures colored and inner child set free, we left leprechaun land lighter than air.
Eurotrip 2011 (Dublin prt 3)
When I think back on our eurotrip I want to remember the hilarious ‘deaf’ problem Martha and I couldn’t escape (we got over it by Rome). I misheard at least a phrase an hour or repeated something to Martha that she’d just finished telling me. She was stuck constantly correcting the oddities I thought she’d said and shaking her head in wonder, exclaiming, “Yes I see such and such, I just pointed that out to you.”
I also must admit a perpetual clumsiness, on both our parts, during the entire 10 days. I fell up stairs and down them, tripped on even ground over nothing, lost my balance while standing still, caught my ring in my hair multiple times, and almost walked in front of fast oncoming traffic (but was literally snatched back by my trusty amie). Martha did a better job at life…she lost things and then found them, tripped a bit here and there, and she kept ‘losing’ me in crowd situations, but otherwise she was normal.
I think that when people travel they get to know one other better than they did before. Even though we’ve known each other for 5 years now, Martha learned that I am a 4 year old. Whenever I am hungry, tired, or need to use the restroom I become very pushy while at the same time being equally apathetic. I don’t care which restaurant is picked or if I’ve brushed my teeth or if one must buy merchandise to use the ‘facilities’…I MUST eat, sleep, and go potty. It’s fine when I am being the leader of the moment because I become super ‘take charge’, but poor Martha…when she was the leader and wasn’t making decisions fast enough for my 4 yr. old temperament I would become rude, bossy, and downright unpleasant. Thankfully, Martha always forgave my bad mood.
‘Sharing’ money became a bit confusing during the trip. It was inevitable that we’d let our feet dictate our daily path, thus one of us was always missing cash thanks to forgetting to find an ATM. As friends do, the one with cash would kindly take over the bills until an ATM was found. We had running ‘tabs’ with each other throughout the trip. It was quite a feat at the end to figure out who owed who for this entrance fee or that meal. To our credit, we’d taken the time each night before bed to write down all costs for the day and who paid which bills, so at the end we actually had an account of every single thing paid for. I never thought of it as a way to keep up with what we did, but looking back at the notes reminded us what we’d seen and done in ten days.
Pharmacies became a ‘thing’ on our trip and it all started in Dublin. It must have been our first or second morning in Dublin that Martha awoke to a sore throat. We visited the pharmacy to snag some lozenges and thought that would be our only non-touristy cost. Except that I ended up with the same sore throat, then Martha needed tissues, then I needed cold medicine, and then I needed ‘second skin’ for the blisters on the bottom of my feet. 5 visits to pharmacies in 10 days made us appreciate the friendly and knowledgeable staff. Taking note of the flashing green cross became second nature and a source of endless jokes.
When I traveled with Ross I resorted to buying a pair of faux suede short ‘elf’ boots (as Ross called them). Right before my trip with Martha, I noticed that I had walked almost through them. A detached, worn in heel and a palm sized hole at the ball of my foot showed proof of the tremendous amount of walking accomplished here in Europe. I thought that the boots would last through the trip. I was very wrong. By our third day of travel I was sitting down every chance I got, I had acquired an ill mood and permanent wince, and I was drooling over every shoe store we passed. Truthfully, I wanted Clark brand moccasins. However, we were around Grafton street and already late for something when I couldn’t bear the pain anymore - I HAD to have new shoes. The shops were closing and each store we roamed into seemed more expensive than the last. I was almost out of hope and ready to go barefoot all the way to O’Connell street to the Clark store when a Footlocker guy advised us to visit Korky’s for ‘booties’. Sure enough I found inside, and on sale, a pair of faux suede, faux fur lined, short boots equally as cute as the ones I had walked through. Unfortunately as I type this I have already almost walked through the new pair. The outside soles aren’t worn through but the inner ones are. Ah well, they served their purpose I suppose. I don’t know if maybe I’m buying my European shoes too cheaply (40 euros is NOT cheap to me) but they really don’t last as well as American shoes at the same price.
I also must admit a perpetual clumsiness, on both our parts, during the entire 10 days. I fell up stairs and down them, tripped on even ground over nothing, lost my balance while standing still, caught my ring in my hair multiple times, and almost walked in front of fast oncoming traffic (but was literally snatched back by my trusty amie). Martha did a better job at life…she lost things and then found them, tripped a bit here and there, and she kept ‘losing’ me in crowd situations, but otherwise she was normal.
I think that when people travel they get to know one other better than they did before. Even though we’ve known each other for 5 years now, Martha learned that I am a 4 year old. Whenever I am hungry, tired, or need to use the restroom I become very pushy while at the same time being equally apathetic. I don’t care which restaurant is picked or if I’ve brushed my teeth or if one must buy merchandise to use the ‘facilities’…I MUST eat, sleep, and go potty. It’s fine when I am being the leader of the moment because I become super ‘take charge’, but poor Martha…when she was the leader and wasn’t making decisions fast enough for my 4 yr. old temperament I would become rude, bossy, and downright unpleasant. Thankfully, Martha always forgave my bad mood.
‘Sharing’ money became a bit confusing during the trip. It was inevitable that we’d let our feet dictate our daily path, thus one of us was always missing cash thanks to forgetting to find an ATM. As friends do, the one with cash would kindly take over the bills until an ATM was found. We had running ‘tabs’ with each other throughout the trip. It was quite a feat at the end to figure out who owed who for this entrance fee or that meal. To our credit, we’d taken the time each night before bed to write down all costs for the day and who paid which bills, so at the end we actually had an account of every single thing paid for. I never thought of it as a way to keep up with what we did, but looking back at the notes reminded us what we’d seen and done in ten days.
Pharmacies became a ‘thing’ on our trip and it all started in Dublin. It must have been our first or second morning in Dublin that Martha awoke to a sore throat. We visited the pharmacy to snag some lozenges and thought that would be our only non-touristy cost. Except that I ended up with the same sore throat, then Martha needed tissues, then I needed cold medicine, and then I needed ‘second skin’ for the blisters on the bottom of my feet. 5 visits to pharmacies in 10 days made us appreciate the friendly and knowledgeable staff. Taking note of the flashing green cross became second nature and a source of endless jokes.
When I traveled with Ross I resorted to buying a pair of faux suede short ‘elf’ boots (as Ross called them). Right before my trip with Martha, I noticed that I had walked almost through them. A detached, worn in heel and a palm sized hole at the ball of my foot showed proof of the tremendous amount of walking accomplished here in Europe. I thought that the boots would last through the trip. I was very wrong. By our third day of travel I was sitting down every chance I got, I had acquired an ill mood and permanent wince, and I was drooling over every shoe store we passed. Truthfully, I wanted Clark brand moccasins. However, we were around Grafton street and already late for something when I couldn’t bear the pain anymore - I HAD to have new shoes. The shops were closing and each store we roamed into seemed more expensive than the last. I was almost out of hope and ready to go barefoot all the way to O’Connell street to the Clark store when a Footlocker guy advised us to visit Korky’s for ‘booties’. Sure enough I found inside, and on sale, a pair of faux suede, faux fur lined, short boots equally as cute as the ones I had walked through. Unfortunately as I type this I have already almost walked through the new pair. The outside soles aren’t worn through but the inner ones are. Ah well, they served their purpose I suppose. I don’t know if maybe I’m buying my European shoes too cheaply (40 euros is NOT cheap to me) but they really don’t last as well as American shoes at the same price.
Eurotrip 2011 (Dublin prt 2)
In Dublin we did two pub crawls. Okay, yes, the crowd was 75% tourists BUT both of the pub crawls were really fun, safe ways to have nights out in a city we didn’t know, and they turned out spectacularly! The first pub crawl was a musical pub crawl. For the very low price of 10 euros we joined a large group led by two Irish musicians who ushered us to two pubs after the one we’d all met at. The crawl attracted us because it offered both traditional Irish music and also a history lesson. The very talented, personable, and funny musicians informed the crowd about different instruments, various song origins and stories, and they gave a general overview of how Irish music has changed throughout the last few decades. Aside from the interesting lessons, we were treated to jigs, reels, and ballads and instructed to sing along to a few tunes. They two guys ended our few hours of musical entertainment by giving out the names of two pubs where tourists were scarce and the music would be lively.
The second pub crawl was a literary pub crawl. I know how it sounds…but trust me when I say it was a fantastic time! Again the crawl crowd was mostly tourists and again it was a cheap cost (9 euros). We were definitely interested; that’s the reason we showed up at all. However, neither of us really knew what to expect with a pub crawl that demanded higher thinking. The crawl turned out to be two professional actors and literature obsessed guys who, while allowing the crowd opportunities to mingle and plenty of drinking time, performed scenes/parts of various Irish novels and plays. With each performance they also included a bit of biography on the writer and the work. We visited three pubs and finished the tour with a quiz on information covered throughout the crawl. The literary crawl was quieter than the musical pub crawl and the crowd was more nerdy I suppose, but I feel like the combination of both crawls gave a good picture of the two sides of Dublin that we explored. During the days Martha and I were invested in galleries and museums and at night we soaked up the sounds of Dublin. If I visit Ireland again I’ll definitely go on more pub crawls. As we found out, it’s a great way to enjoy different pubs, thus having a night out, while learning about the city you are in and meeting people from all over the world.
The second pub crawl was a literary pub crawl. I know how it sounds…but trust me when I say it was a fantastic time! Again the crawl crowd was mostly tourists and again it was a cheap cost (9 euros). We were definitely interested; that’s the reason we showed up at all. However, neither of us really knew what to expect with a pub crawl that demanded higher thinking. The crawl turned out to be two professional actors and literature obsessed guys who, while allowing the crowd opportunities to mingle and plenty of drinking time, performed scenes/parts of various Irish novels and plays. With each performance they also included a bit of biography on the writer and the work. We visited three pubs and finished the tour with a quiz on information covered throughout the crawl. The literary crawl was quieter than the musical pub crawl and the crowd was more nerdy I suppose, but I feel like the combination of both crawls gave a good picture of the two sides of Dublin that we explored. During the days Martha and I were invested in galleries and museums and at night we soaked up the sounds of Dublin. If I visit Ireland again I’ll definitely go on more pub crawls. As we found out, it’s a great way to enjoy different pubs, thus having a night out, while learning about the city you are in and meeting people from all over the world.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Martha's Care Package
You might think that since Ross brought me a ton of stuff from the US that I wouldn't want anything else. Perhaps I would be more excited about eating French things and buying stuff here. Nope, neither is correct. I just...okay I have to admit it...I miss processed American foods and things I know. So, once again, with someone coming to visit I begged for a care package.
Martha kindly brought me the following:
Neutrogena face wash - In my defense I've tried three different face washed that are supposedly fantastic and each has left my face greasy in some spots and dried out in others. I just wanted 'the usual' !
Gummy Vitamins - after I finished off the ones Ross brought I realized I felt better taking vitamins daily. Now I have a huge bottle of dinosaur shaped red, orange, and yellow gummy vitamins ;-)
Poptarts - I just wanted something for breakfast that was bad for me. Yep, not nutritious at all!!! To my delight Martha arrived with S'mores and Frosted Cherry poptarts.
Mac' & Cheese - yes yes THE american comfort food again. The one box that Ross brought gave me so much happiness that I requested THREE from Martha.
Necklace - I didn't ask for it, but I received as a gift a really pretty hand made necklace from Martha with symbolic beads and colors. It's a special reminder of our core group of girlfriends throughout Sewanee. It will remind me when I look at it of all the wonderful times we all shared together and all the love and support we continuously gave to one another.
I think that's everything. I have already eaten the poptarts of course :-P
I'm really thankful to the Lord for care packages and Martha's visit! I'm super happy to have some things from America again!
~Tam in Toulouse
Martha kindly brought me the following:
Neutrogena face wash - In my defense I've tried three different face washed that are supposedly fantastic and each has left my face greasy in some spots and dried out in others. I just wanted 'the usual' !
Gummy Vitamins - after I finished off the ones Ross brought I realized I felt better taking vitamins daily. Now I have a huge bottle of dinosaur shaped red, orange, and yellow gummy vitamins ;-)
Poptarts - I just wanted something for breakfast that was bad for me. Yep, not nutritious at all!!! To my delight Martha arrived with S'mores and Frosted Cherry poptarts.
Mac' & Cheese - yes yes THE american comfort food again. The one box that Ross brought gave me so much happiness that I requested THREE from Martha.
Necklace - I didn't ask for it, but I received as a gift a really pretty hand made necklace from Martha with symbolic beads and colors. It's a special reminder of our core group of girlfriends throughout Sewanee. It will remind me when I look at it of all the wonderful times we all shared together and all the love and support we continuously gave to one another.
I think that's everything. I have already eaten the poptarts of course :-P
I'm really thankful to the Lord for care packages and Martha's visit! I'm super happy to have some things from America again!
~Tam in Toulouse
Eurotrip 2011 (Dublin)
In Dublin we stayed at the coolest hostel- ‘Abigail’s’ on Aston Quay. Not only did it have a huge kitchen-TV- Internet-Check In Desk area where everyone hung out together (totally reminded me of college) but all the walls were covered in modern murals. I couldn’t get over two of the murals in particular, one showing Dorothy guiltily looking into her picnic basket while a cop shakes his finger at her, the other showing Jesus about to shave his beard.
I felt really bad that the first order of business in Dublin, after checking into our hostel, was rushing to the Weir & Sons jewelry shop, but I desperately needed my claddagh ring resized. After several minutes of comforting and assurance from the kind female clerk, I handed over my ring, the payment, and my address in France. I came close to tearing up since I distrust the postal system and simply didn’t want the ring off my finger, even if it was to resize it. Sitting here blogging, my finger feels very naked…I can’t wait to have that familiar weight back on it.
We walked Grafton street a bit, the main pedestrian thoroughfare in Dublin, taking in the Irish accents, the touristy street music, the smells and sights. We’d just spent all morning and afternoon in France and suddenly we were in Dublin – it was unbelievable!
We had so much fun being typical tourists on the Ghostbus Tour that first night! We didn’t know what to expect and weren’t sure if there would be room on the tour. Sitting in the top of a double-decker bus with blackout curtained windows and scary decorations we rode through the town while a speaker at the front told various stories about ghosty sites in Dublin. The professional actor who was our speaker for the night was fantastic. He wasn’t too over the top, but he was definitely a bit showy. We stopped and got off the bus twice, to visit a church and a graveyard. We were told to take pictures and look for ‘orbs’. I don’t know that I believe my eyes, but one photo of Martha taken in the dark graveyard shows four round circles floating above her head in different sizes and greyish white colors. Whether we believed in Ghosts or not, it was really entertaining to hear all the true, gory stories of old Dublin and to visit the sites in the dark.
The remaining few hours of the night were spent in ‘The Celt’ taking in traditional Irish music. We were reluctant to find pubs in the Temple Bar area since other tourists would be drawn to them. The last thing we wanted was to be surrounded by Americans shouting the words to Don’t Stop Believing and behaving like they were in a frat house. Martha pointed out The Celt down the street from the Dublin Spire. Inside the pub, greeted by loud music, Martha watched the fiddle, (she plays violin) while I bobbed to the lilting beats. We both felt like we were in the movie ‘P.S. I Love You’ when the band started playing ‘Galway Girl’. The band members took breaks and mingled in the crowd. They sold a few CD’s and down pints of Guinness. They were regular, musical gifted Irish people who were a ton of fun to listen to and meet. A guitar, a bodhran drum, a fiddle, and a wooden flute was all it took to keep us entertained for hours till the pub closed.
I felt really bad that the first order of business in Dublin, after checking into our hostel, was rushing to the Weir & Sons jewelry shop, but I desperately needed my claddagh ring resized. After several minutes of comforting and assurance from the kind female clerk, I handed over my ring, the payment, and my address in France. I came close to tearing up since I distrust the postal system and simply didn’t want the ring off my finger, even if it was to resize it. Sitting here blogging, my finger feels very naked…I can’t wait to have that familiar weight back on it.
We walked Grafton street a bit, the main pedestrian thoroughfare in Dublin, taking in the Irish accents, the touristy street music, the smells and sights. We’d just spent all morning and afternoon in France and suddenly we were in Dublin – it was unbelievable!
We had so much fun being typical tourists on the Ghostbus Tour that first night! We didn’t know what to expect and weren’t sure if there would be room on the tour. Sitting in the top of a double-decker bus with blackout curtained windows and scary decorations we rode through the town while a speaker at the front told various stories about ghosty sites in Dublin. The professional actor who was our speaker for the night was fantastic. He wasn’t too over the top, but he was definitely a bit showy. We stopped and got off the bus twice, to visit a church and a graveyard. We were told to take pictures and look for ‘orbs’. I don’t know that I believe my eyes, but one photo of Martha taken in the dark graveyard shows four round circles floating above her head in different sizes and greyish white colors. Whether we believed in Ghosts or not, it was really entertaining to hear all the true, gory stories of old Dublin and to visit the sites in the dark.
The remaining few hours of the night were spent in ‘The Celt’ taking in traditional Irish music. We were reluctant to find pubs in the Temple Bar area since other tourists would be drawn to them. The last thing we wanted was to be surrounded by Americans shouting the words to Don’t Stop Believing and behaving like they were in a frat house. Martha pointed out The Celt down the street from the Dublin Spire. Inside the pub, greeted by loud music, Martha watched the fiddle, (she plays violin) while I bobbed to the lilting beats. We both felt like we were in the movie ‘P.S. I Love You’ when the band started playing ‘Galway Girl’. The band members took breaks and mingled in the crowd. They sold a few CD’s and down pints of Guinness. They were regular, musical gifted Irish people who were a ton of fun to listen to and meet. A guitar, a bodhran drum, a fiddle, and a wooden flute was all it took to keep us entertained for hours till the pub closed.
Eurotrip 2011 (Carcassonne)
Visiting Carcassonne was a bit confusing at first. I must be really bad at searching the Internet because I couldn’t find anywhere which bus would get us from the train station to the Cite (aka the fortified medieval city & castle). Turns out Carcassonne has a nice, cheap little bus system – it would have been helpful to know that the bus we caught after twenty minutes of walking would pass right by the bus stop in front of the train station. Ah well, at least breakfast was found during that 20 minutes of semi-useless walking. The Cite was interesting, although not as entertaining as I suppose it might be when catering to tourists at the height of summer. We roamed the little medieval streets, stopped in a church, made friends with a cat, and explored the ramparts before the Castle itself opened.
Meeting the cat was really nice. Although I’m surrounded each day by people walking their dogs, I rarely get to pet an animal here, much less pick one up. I was surprised when we happened upon a gorgeous coffee and vanilla covered female who actually rubbed against my legs and let me cuddle her for a couple of minutes. Among the things I will look forward to in returning to the US will be the opportunity to be in the same household with pets again.
The Castle was bigger than I thought, not that it seemed small, but we easily spent a couple of hours walking through rooms and up and down towers while stopping to read all the little informational panels. I think my favorite part of the castle visit was walking through these wooden catwalk things that linked the towers. It felt dangerous to be supported by thin wooden planks hundreds of feet in the air, but it also felt thrilling to look out over the ville basse (lower city of Carcassonne).
The real gem for me while we were in Carcassonne was stumbling across La Cure Gourmand, a candy, chocolate, and cookie shop well known here in France. When I was in Aix, I passed one every day on my way to school and always managed to resist going in. Unfortunately they don’t have a branch here in Toulouse :-( Having Martha with me was the perfect excuse to get to go into the one we found in Carcassonne. Delicious treats practically called out to me…I wanted to buy everything, especially the calissons from Aix ! Martha and I limited ourselves to a few cookies and left with the knowledge that there was a branch in Paris. If we were lucky enough to find the one in Paris we would begin and end our trip with sweet treats!
While we waited on the shuttle to take us from the Cite to the Carcassonne airport, Martha and I sat in the warm sun eating ham and cheese paninis, nibbling our cookies and we finished the chocolates we’d purchased in Toulouse the evening before. It was a simple but scrumptious lunch and a lovely day spent visiting medieval fortified Carcassonne.
Meeting the cat was really nice. Although I’m surrounded each day by people walking their dogs, I rarely get to pet an animal here, much less pick one up. I was surprised when we happened upon a gorgeous coffee and vanilla covered female who actually rubbed against my legs and let me cuddle her for a couple of minutes. Among the things I will look forward to in returning to the US will be the opportunity to be in the same household with pets again.
The Castle was bigger than I thought, not that it seemed small, but we easily spent a couple of hours walking through rooms and up and down towers while stopping to read all the little informational panels. I think my favorite part of the castle visit was walking through these wooden catwalk things that linked the towers. It felt dangerous to be supported by thin wooden planks hundreds of feet in the air, but it also felt thrilling to look out over the ville basse (lower city of Carcassonne).
The real gem for me while we were in Carcassonne was stumbling across La Cure Gourmand, a candy, chocolate, and cookie shop well known here in France. When I was in Aix, I passed one every day on my way to school and always managed to resist going in. Unfortunately they don’t have a branch here in Toulouse :-( Having Martha with me was the perfect excuse to get to go into the one we found in Carcassonne. Delicious treats practically called out to me…I wanted to buy everything, especially the calissons from Aix ! Martha and I limited ourselves to a few cookies and left with the knowledge that there was a branch in Paris. If we were lucky enough to find the one in Paris we would begin and end our trip with sweet treats!
While we waited on the shuttle to take us from the Cite to the Carcassonne airport, Martha and I sat in the warm sun eating ham and cheese paninis, nibbling our cookies and we finished the chocolates we’d purchased in Toulouse the evening before. It was a simple but scrumptious lunch and a lovely day spent visiting medieval fortified Carcassonne.
Eurotrip 2011
My former roommate from Sewanee, and friend for always, Martha came to visit for my spring break this past week! She arrived on Thursday, March 3rd. The next day we began our adventure, then we returned to Toulouse yesterday (Sunday, March 13th). The following few posts will be about our eurotrip. I would blog in detail except that I followed that method before when I traveled with Ross, and find it difficult to remember everything correctly already from the eurotrip, SO I will be blogging about random memories, anecdotes, and highlights. It was a fantastic trip !!! Here goes...
I wish I could have shown Martha around Toulouse a bit more. Of course it would happen that she left early this morning and this afternoon it's a sunny, breezy, 60 degree, gorgeous day here.
She didn't complain a bit, but she must have been exhausted that first day since I literally caught her going into my apartment the moment she arrived and promptly dragged her around town all evening.
We explored place Capitol a bit and stopped in for chocolates and macarons. It was with a little knowing smirk that I watched Martha eat her macarons, they are SO yummy! We ran into some friends of mine around Capitol by chance. After walking away, Martha praised my new frenchness. Even though I know that I'm not a true fluent speaker, it was nice to hear Martha say I sounded like it.
I'd been a packing nazi and demanded that she only bring 4 days worth of clothing because we were only taking carry-on luggage on the planes. Thus, we made a quick trip to H&M for a pair of leggings for a shorter dress she'd brought. I was so excited to return to Entrecote and treat Martha to steak and french fries! The food is fabulous and I'd been wanting to grab another meal there, but I waited till Martha was here to share the experience. Even though we got there before the restaurant opened there was a line. Sitting in the restaurant, sipping rose wine and eating our lovely meal it was hard to believe our adventure was starting. She and I hadn't seen each other since graduation almost a year earlier. It was almost surreal to be able to reach out and hug Martha or just spout off the random things that came to mind and have her respond to my thoughts.
When you haven't seen someone in that long, but have kept in touch, it's not a mission to fill each other in, it becomes instead the reuniting of two souls that understand each other. It's a therapeutic re-discovery of old self that takes place. In being with Martha I was suddenly back to being bubbly, happy, and confident. If we got lost it wouldn't matter because we were together to figure it out. If one of us forgot something it wouldn't matter because the other person had it. If one of us was worrying, the other could lend words of comfort.
As we snuggled into bed that night, after dinner and packing for the trip, I went to sleep super excited for the next 9 days ahead.
I wish I could have shown Martha around Toulouse a bit more. Of course it would happen that she left early this morning and this afternoon it's a sunny, breezy, 60 degree, gorgeous day here.
She didn't complain a bit, but she must have been exhausted that first day since I literally caught her going into my apartment the moment she arrived and promptly dragged her around town all evening.
We explored place Capitol a bit and stopped in for chocolates and macarons. It was with a little knowing smirk that I watched Martha eat her macarons, they are SO yummy! We ran into some friends of mine around Capitol by chance. After walking away, Martha praised my new frenchness. Even though I know that I'm not a true fluent speaker, it was nice to hear Martha say I sounded like it.
I'd been a packing nazi and demanded that she only bring 4 days worth of clothing because we were only taking carry-on luggage on the planes. Thus, we made a quick trip to H&M for a pair of leggings for a shorter dress she'd brought. I was so excited to return to Entrecote and treat Martha to steak and french fries! The food is fabulous and I'd been wanting to grab another meal there, but I waited till Martha was here to share the experience. Even though we got there before the restaurant opened there was a line. Sitting in the restaurant, sipping rose wine and eating our lovely meal it was hard to believe our adventure was starting. She and I hadn't seen each other since graduation almost a year earlier. It was almost surreal to be able to reach out and hug Martha or just spout off the random things that came to mind and have her respond to my thoughts.
When you haven't seen someone in that long, but have kept in touch, it's not a mission to fill each other in, it becomes instead the reuniting of two souls that understand each other. It's a therapeutic re-discovery of old self that takes place. In being with Martha I was suddenly back to being bubbly, happy, and confident. If we got lost it wouldn't matter because we were together to figure it out. If one of us forgot something it wouldn't matter because the other person had it. If one of us was worrying, the other could lend words of comfort.
As we snuggled into bed that night, after dinner and packing for the trip, I went to sleep super excited for the next 9 days ahead.
2nd Semester Courses
I've neglected blogging lately about school because I was sincerely scared that if I blogged about the recent goodness it would somehow jinx my luck. Now, I've decided that if I am jinxed after this post then I can deal with it just fine; I dealt with an entire semester before, so a couple of months won't kill me now.
This semester has been wonderful as far as my classes go. I am taking Medieval Theatre (Farce), Style and Syntax, Ronsard's Love Poetry, & Mythology in 18th Century French Poetry.
Medieval Theatre is quite entertaining. I don't catch a fourth of the play on words in the farces, but the crude humour and stereotypes make for fun academic reads. The female professor speaks clearly, writes on the board whenever my face wrinkles into confusion, and likes to hear the students' thoughts. It's the most 'normal' class I've had here, a normalcy that I appreciate so much more after last semester.
Style and Syntax are split up into two different days with two different professors. The two courses study texts from the rhetorical and grammatical points of view. My syntax teacher is female, an intimidating prof. who marches on through examples and very brief explanations for two hours straight and doesn't so much as ask questions as she demands correct answers. I literally count the minutes till class is over, praying not to be called on, and doing my best to understand the american equivalents of the french grammatical concepts she's trying to teach. My Style professor is a laid back male who allows us a ten minute break in the middle of class and who also takes pauses to take thoughts and questions from students. His course is really interesting and I like attending his class, the only problem being that I can't really understand his french. I have to sit next to someone with clear handwriting to follow along making sure I've caught everything.
Ronsard's Love Poetry is taught by an old french man who looks a bit like Santa. He has no beard, but he does sport a huge mustache, a round belly, and a constant twinkle in his eyes. He's clearly an expert on the subject of 18th century poetry, he's been teaching it for over twenty years in fact. I adore his philosophy that too much importance is placed on perfect grades while true learning and application of knowledge is left by the wayside. This prof. also teaches Mythology in 18th Century Poetry at 8 am on Friday. I really don't like 8 am classes, but his greeting of "bonjour mes enfants" and his little anecdotes throughout the two hour period melts my bad mood every Friday morning. Having the same professor for two courses on French poetry, two days in a row, makes my week feel more organized and condensed. last semester I had too many professors to keep them straight.
I'm really happy with my course load (chosen by the Le Miral administration of course) this semester. I still have no idea how well I will do, but this time I'm truly growing in knowledge that I will apply to future studies. As far as grades, I found out that I passed all my french courses from last semester. Such knowledge gives me hope that if I could pass last semester with all the confusion it brought, then I should be okay this semester.
As I look ahead to my last six weeks of classes (yes only 6 more before the exam period) I am excited to see what I will have learned by the end; I already feel like I've attained so many new concepts and ideas about French literature!
~Tam in Toulouse
This semester has been wonderful as far as my classes go. I am taking Medieval Theatre (Farce), Style and Syntax, Ronsard's Love Poetry, & Mythology in 18th Century French Poetry.
Medieval Theatre is quite entertaining. I don't catch a fourth of the play on words in the farces, but the crude humour and stereotypes make for fun academic reads. The female professor speaks clearly, writes on the board whenever my face wrinkles into confusion, and likes to hear the students' thoughts. It's the most 'normal' class I've had here, a normalcy that I appreciate so much more after last semester.
Style and Syntax are split up into two different days with two different professors. The two courses study texts from the rhetorical and grammatical points of view. My syntax teacher is female, an intimidating prof. who marches on through examples and very brief explanations for two hours straight and doesn't so much as ask questions as she demands correct answers. I literally count the minutes till class is over, praying not to be called on, and doing my best to understand the american equivalents of the french grammatical concepts she's trying to teach. My Style professor is a laid back male who allows us a ten minute break in the middle of class and who also takes pauses to take thoughts and questions from students. His course is really interesting and I like attending his class, the only problem being that I can't really understand his french. I have to sit next to someone with clear handwriting to follow along making sure I've caught everything.
Ronsard's Love Poetry is taught by an old french man who looks a bit like Santa. He has no beard, but he does sport a huge mustache, a round belly, and a constant twinkle in his eyes. He's clearly an expert on the subject of 18th century poetry, he's been teaching it for over twenty years in fact. I adore his philosophy that too much importance is placed on perfect grades while true learning and application of knowledge is left by the wayside. This prof. also teaches Mythology in 18th Century Poetry at 8 am on Friday. I really don't like 8 am classes, but his greeting of "bonjour mes enfants" and his little anecdotes throughout the two hour period melts my bad mood every Friday morning. Having the same professor for two courses on French poetry, two days in a row, makes my week feel more organized and condensed. last semester I had too many professors to keep them straight.
I'm really happy with my course load (chosen by the Le Miral administration of course) this semester. I still have no idea how well I will do, but this time I'm truly growing in knowledge that I will apply to future studies. As far as grades, I found out that I passed all my french courses from last semester. Such knowledge gives me hope that if I could pass last semester with all the confusion it brought, then I should be okay this semester.
As I look ahead to my last six weeks of classes (yes only 6 more before the exam period) I am excited to see what I will have learned by the end; I already feel like I've attained so many new concepts and ideas about French literature!
~Tam in Toulouse
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