What Happened in July

When I last left off I had just left Groningen (separate from Bradon) to Vienna, Austria. I left super early in the morning, like 7 am, so that I could take the reservation-free route through Amsterdam and some wide variety of German cities. It was a good 15 hour train ride, and I was hacking the whole time so no one wanted to sit by me. Score. I did end up having this huge black athlete guy sit beside me on the really long ride (Amsterdam to Frankfurt, I think?) and all these dutch people kept asking for his autograph ... so I think I was pressed up against a celebrity for a good 8 hours with zero knowledge of this fact. No idea who this gentleman was, but he was very polite and didn't hog the leg room. I get to Vienna at like 10 pm and Alina meets me at the train station. We walk to her boyfriend Moritz's apartment through the really nice 1st district. Alina shared her dessert knoodl with apricot in it which was SO GOOD. I slept like a baby and woke up to Bradon and our friend Claire arriving via night bus.  We had a lovely breakfast, got organized and met up with the other people coming to the festival with us: Moritz, Paul and Anna. Bradon and I drove down with Anna and we all met up around Gratz at the UrbanArtForms festival grounds. 
The first night was kind of dead, we had our tents in different areas cause Bradon and I purchased the tent hotel ticket, whereas the others brought their own. We explored the grounds, stages, lake, etc and danced around till 2 or 3 in the morning. Next day we went to a smaller town around Gratz to get supplies (alcohol) and lunch (schnitzel) in the early day and came back to the grounds for THE BEST NIGHT EVER. Paul Kalkbrenner, Pendulum, Fritz Kalkbrenner and Skrillex shows the first night -- despite all the crazy mixups with scheduling and missing a couple acts we wanted because of that. So much Red Bull. Fritz was unbelievable: there was serious technical difficulties but everyone stuck around for a good 20 mins while they tried to figure it out. Then when sound got working again, Fritz was so gracious to the crowd and everyone was so loving and happy and there was this amazing feeling of community because of that. It was pretty magical. Every night sleeping in the tent sucked. There were flimsy little foamy pads to keep up from being on solid dirt ground, and we brought a sleep sheet to share -- it was a million degrees in the tent, and it was about the size of a twin bed, but shorter. We spent as little time in there as possible. We spent some of the next day at the lake and visited Gratz to see the city before the acts. Then we saw Knife Party, Deichkind, Moonbootica and Justice. Knife Party was absolutely amazing, the sun was low and it was all dusty and everyone was dancing and jumping and so excited. Justice was straight up epic. They did an encor remix of We Are Your Friends that was so incredible my mind was actually blown, so I can't describe what it was like. After Moonbootica Bradon and I went on a quest to find as many of the plastic cups as we could because each one traded in for 2 euro. We made a good 16 euro I think, and we were competing with a couple thousand people with the same idea. We were giddy by the end of it. 


The next morning we woke up late, packed our things and headed back to Vienna. To shower for the first time in four days. We were so gross. On the way we stopped to get Goulash soup -- AMAZING. I love Austrian food. So much. Our first night in Vienna we went to this Viennese traditional style wine place with comfort food, Austrian style. I had the most amazing saurkraut in the universe, and this pork that pretty much melted in my mouth. And deep friend vegis and all sorts of good stuff. All paired with white wine spritzers by the jug. Then we went home and played this card game called Wizard which is the funnest game ever, and I really must find it in Canada!
The rest of our Vienna stay was mostly with Alina guiding us around Vienna and showing us the best places to be. We went out one night, I had a debate with Paul about whether Horse meat should be eaten by humans that lasted way longer than it should have (Him: Yes, Me: No). I tried it eventually, it was really salty and creepy. We went for final knoodl on our last night with Alina and then had to BOOK IT to the train station to catch our overnight train to Italy. I have never been that stressed out. We were running and running and screaming and we had to say goodbye to Alina in such a hurry it was so upsetting, I wanted to just cry all night. We jumped onto the train seconds before it started moving -- unlike the time with Emily and I in Lille, it wasn't comedic, it was desperate and angry. I thought my chest would explode. 

Then, another crappy night train experience, but definitely not as bad as the other time I took one to Italy. We took the train to the northern-most town we could find, because Bradon's eurail pass was only valid for Italy-France-Spain, and we had to be in Italy first before he could use it. We went from whatever that town was to Venice, missed our stop cause I could not wake Bradon up (really freaky), so we hopped off at the next one which was a Port in Venice or something. Terrible idea because NO train stopped there heading the other way and we started to get kinda snippy at each other -- night trains will do that to people. Eventually we got one back to the main station, transferred to another train that went to Florence or something and then more trains till we finally ended up in Rio Maggiore -- aka most romantic place on earth. Five nights here, staying in a little hotel/apartment-y thing. SO MANY HILLS. I was dying walking up to that room every day, and having to walk back down to get food and then back up again. AH, my calves were incredible. We had pizza and lemoncello/lemoncino every single day. There was a little boutique liquor store we bought wines at, and we went to the same pizza place every day too. There was a little coop market that we got spreads and crackers at for our hike snacks and breakfast. We hiked two of the four days. First day we went over to La Spezia to try and take out money (Our debit cards weren't accepted on the trail) and explore the, kind of lackluster, city. The first hiking day was Riomaggiore - Manarola - Corniglia. To Manarola is a sea-side walkway of only about half an hour that is the "lovers" walk, so it's super romantic. Bradon was all awkward. Manarola to Corniglia the path was washed out so we took a back route (after much getting lost in the town) through vineyards and so much beauty. SO MUCH UP HILL, SERIOUSLY. Once we got to Corniglia we got tiramisu and espresso at this little cafe. Then back we hiked. Next day we took a train to Monterosso, walked backwards to Vernazza, took another train to Corniglia, and another train back to Riomaggiore. The hiking bit was intense, it was so backwoods-style, it felt like Jurrasic park. There were more people out this day, and it got really hot by midday when the mist was burnt off. We were giddy hikers and just powered up the steeps steps. Vernazza was beautiful, we got some gelato there and I helped some tourists who needed bandaids. We hit up the same cafe in Corniglia and this time I got my mandatory hot chocolate despite the heat (so many weird looks). Time seriously stood still in this place. Leaving hurt my heart.

We took a train in the morning to Levanto or somewhere around there to grab pizza and explore, and then continued our train ride to Genoa. Where we spent four or so more days. Genoa was kind of disappointing as a town, we pretty much saw all the tourist stuff walking around the first night. Since I'm allergic to shellfish we couldn't really take advantage of the seafood at the port, and because of our budget we couldn't afford to go to the aquarium. So we went to Pasta Way every day for dinner, and got absurd portions of pasta. And we wandered around, chatting and drinking either copious amounts of Cappucinno or Sangria -- depending on the time of day. We had cable in our room, so we watched Italian Hello Kitty at night or, if we were lucky, CSI or some 90's action movie would be on in English. I have never been so content with doing nothing. It was fabulous. I managed to track down Zuppa Inglese gelato our final day in Genoa, which I desperately wanted to share with Bradon but we had been unable to find at ANY gelateria on our trip thus far -- and we seriously looked into every single one. I was content to leave Italy then.

Then we took a train over to Nice, and spent around three or four days there. Eating ice cream, drinking cheap champagne on the beach and eating McDonalds because, wow was our money dwindling. I got to familiarize myself with French again, and show my prowess at the Monoprix. We met up with some other Canadians and spent a night drinking and chatting on the beach. We went one day to Monte Carlo where we walked around marvelling at other people's money. I begged Bradon to go with me to play slots in a not-so-fancy casino, and he ended up winning 20 euro from gambling 5. We cashed out, and bought some ice cream with our winnings. It was a good day. We spent a day snoozing on the beach and giggling at boh of our inability's to really swim. Then we headed over to Avignon for a night.
O my gosh. Do not stay at the YMCA in Avignon. We left the hostel booking for this night too late, and because it was the Theatre festival, everywhere good within our price range was booked up. We ended up walking from one side of the city to the other, and then out of the city, following our not-very-reliable-because-there's-no-3G-here map on my iPhone. We were so pissy at each other because we couldn't find it and my feet were blistered and bloody so I was not a happy camper. We finally got there, sweaty and dehydrated, and no one was at the front desk. We wandere around a good forty minutes till finally someone came around. Also, it should be noted this place looked like a prison. We get to our room finally and it is a dump, there is a little ant hill on the floor with a steady high way of ants that are all over the place. The shower is tiny and you have to hold the spout over you head which is so tiny that wetting your hair takes five minutes. Try washing it. We laughed at how awful it was, made cracks about how it was NOT fun to stay at the YMCA, and headed into town. Avignon itself is breathtaking. We wandered through the streets filled with performers and went down the cobbled pedestrian streets until we found a cute little hipster bistrot where we got dinner. We wandered around until the sun started to set and we figured we should make it back to our prison before they locked us out. The beds were surprisingly comfy, and before we knew it our Avignon trip was over. 

The next day we had to walk ALL the way back to the train station to get to Barcelona. Our train had to stop in Port Bou right at the border of France and Spain to switch trains and book or train through to Barcelona because the trains in Spain don't connect into France. There was a fire somewhere in Port Bou or the surrounding area that meant all sort of trains were delayed so this tiny little station was absolutely packed and terrifying. Bradon and I were throwing elbows trying to figure out what to do. We had to wait about an hour, so we bought a really expensive pizza to share which ended up being half frozen. Unhappy. When we eventually ended up in Barcelona, we took the super awesome metro to our Hostel which was a little ways out of the city. The Hostel was so great, I'd read about it before so I was so excited when we got there. The staff was super friendly and I WAS THE ONLY GIRL IN AN EIGHT BED DORM. That was kinda weird, sharing a bathroom with that many boys. There was a kitchen there and we had incredible meals for so cheap because food was practically cents to dollars at the grocery store for what we were used to. We went out for Tapas one night (quite expensive) and then another night we made our own for so much cheaper, and we had like a mountain of food. We shared food with people in our hostel and we got some cheese and ham from one group who we shared our wine with. We went to the market on the main street in the city, didn't get robbed once! Barcelona was so beautiful. We met up with some friends from Bradon's school, Mark and David, and they took us around one night. We went to a rooftop panoramic view bar one night which looked over the whole city. We walked everywhere, went to the castle and the olympic stadium. It was really beautiful. Then I had to leave Bradon to meet up with Emily in Madrid. Saddest day, splitting up after travelling together for almost a month. So I cried a bit, and then braved Barcelona train station security which is ABSURD. The train was super nice, and it had spanish Captain America playing through the whole ride. I sat beside a grumpy old spanish lady. 

Then Madrid! Emily and I tried to get on the same train but I didn't make it on time, so we met at the Hostel. What a great hostel again! We were in an eight bed all girls dorm. We met up, wandered around till we found somewhere not sketchy to get food, and then we got the best mojitos of our lives, and a damn good plate of nachos. I'm gonna stop now, because a lot happened in Madrid and this blog entry is ridiculously long and pictureless. We're practically at the end of July at this point anyways! Till next time!

Groningen: Take 3 & AMSTERDAM!

It is getting harder and harder to keep track of these blog things, and come Thursday I might not have internet as regularly so there might be even LESS blogging! BUT! FOR NOW! Emily and I did one last trip to Groningen to use up my existing Eurail pass. In this trip we FINALLY saw Amsterdam on the hottest day EVER! It was awesome. But first! After three trips to Groningen, I know several routes you can take by train! Every city listed is a get-on-a-new-train point. Then each train goes through several other cities. 

Paris to Groningen:

Paris -- Roissy (CDG) -- Brussels -- Amsterdam -- Amersfoort -- Groningen = 9.25 RER + 5 euro reservation to Brussels, rest free with eurail (on a really lucky day)

Paris -- Roissy (CDG) -- Brussels -- ( detour: Dordrecht -- Roosendaal -- ) Rotterdam -- Amersfoort -- Groningen = 9.25 RER + 30 euro reservation to Brussels, rest free with eurail + 10 euro fine for putting the wrong date on your Eurail pass (on a really unlucky day)

Paris -- Lille -- Gent (?) -- Antwerp -- ( detour: ? -- ? --) Amsterdam -- ( detour: Utrecht [?] -- ) Amersfoort -- Groningen = 3 euro for reservation to Lille, rest free with eurail GONG SHOW DAY!

Groningen to Amsterdam:

Groningen -- Amsterdam Schiphol = free with eurail

Groningen -- Amersfoort -- Amsterdam Centraal = free with eurail

Groningen -- ( detour: Assen [?] -- ? -- ) Amersfoort -- Amsterdam Centraal = free with eurail

Groningen to Paris:

Groningen -- Amersfoort -- Amsterdam Centraal -- Paris = 40 euro reservation, rest "free" with eurail (eff you Thalys)

Groningen -- Amsterdam Schiphol -- Paris = 30 euro reservation, ""

Groningen -- Gouda -- Rotterdam -- Antwerp -- Lille -- Amiens -- Paris = FREE WITH EURAIL! SUCCESS!

Realization: Eurail for Benelux-France = not the best idea if you want to take direct trains. It's kinda fun when you're with someone cause then you can just sit back and chill. Also, beautiful weather helps. And lots of snacks. AND, especially, legit Belgian waffles along the way. And Starbucks (ashamed).

Anyways! So we DID eventually get to Groningen after our heck-of-a-lot-of-detours day. Had some fun on our brief visit, hung out with the amazing people. Is it just me, or are international students THE NICEST PEOPLE EVER? Honestly, never felt more welcomed by any group consistently than international students. Love love! Then we did out fun day trip to Amsterdam which had it's own ridiculous train route (including one bus because someone got hit by a train and everything stopped for a bit. Ah.). It took a lot longer than anticipated to get to Amsterdam, but once we did the sun was blazing and it was SO hot out but not crazy packed so it was nice. Pictures!

Cheese tasting AHHHHHHHH!

Candies that 'make you happy' but are three for a euro. They tasted like poopoo and nothing exciting happened. Not that we expected. We just wanted to have purchased something from a smart shop.

ME being touristy yay!

What this thing is... I sincerely hope you recognize it.

Went for drinks and fish and chips at an Irish bar... super authentic, I know. Look though! So cute! My cider was sighing!

Bradon's fancy pants beer.

So yea, walked around all day and opted out of going into Museums cause we only had like 6 or 7 hours. We went for sangria at one point in this quiet pub that had a resident cat and also (coincidence) a giant Canadian flag over the bar. We saw this after the fact = fate! The red light district was crazy, I kept wanting to walk by more ladies because it was just SO out of this world/foreign to me! It was so much less old-school than I had envisioned. In my mind there was a red incandescent light bulb and under it stood a bunch of ladies that you took your pick of, or something. Reality: Doorways with fluorescent red tube lighting over top of, each doorway had a lady in it and behind the lady was where you did the deed. The whole room was right there! Sometimes they stood in the window (curtained, I assume, when people have sex), but I imagine it was super hot out so it was better to have the door open. Man! I really couldn't get over it. Bradon was telling me a large majority of these ladies are  brought from other countries and forced into the profession and that's just so sad. The novelty kinda wore off then. I just assumed that in such a liberal city like Amsterdam that these ladies voluntarily took up prostitution... so naive. I am super saddened to hear all this bad stuff and the magic of that part of Amsterdam is definitely diminished. At first it was like, run down a passageway having ladies gaze on and I'd giggle and be like, "Oh how fun!" and now I'm like, "Oh my God! I am the worst human being ever! I laughed at them!". Super sad.

Anyways! We had our fun and took a much more efficient train ride home where we got all decked out in glam rock gear and went to a theme party. Next day I went to another class of Bradon's and then found my own way home through the city without a map! So proud! I didn't get lost! YAY! Then we made dindins (home cooked meal aaaaah <3) and went to a pub with the international students group of friends Bradon has. Then we said our bye bye's and headed home to sleep before taking the EPIC train ride back home. That one went pretty according-to-plan, but at one point the train delayed enough that the transfer we had to make involved booking it across the station just in time to JUMP onto the train after the whistle was blown, before the doors were shut. Epic James Bond moment. 

I tried to make this image not-sideways, but it won't let me. This is my map of Paris covered in stickers of all the areas I've been. I never double-stickered anything, and a lot of my trips was returns to favorite spots. I'm very sad to leave Paris, but these next three months are an even bigger adventure. You thought Paris was crazy? This is Epic Life Adventure: The Sequel. So far we're thinking Italy and Greece for most of August. Holy Moses I'm scared! I had SO MUCH knowledge of France before coming here and I still was so shocked. I have NO other languages under my belt in the least bit. Dear Lord. Also, packing up all my stuff from my apartment = super depressing. This is my first ever own place, and I have to bid adieu already? Also, WHY DO I HAVE SO MUCH STUFF ALREADY? I bought a giant suitcase and it's FULL. Luckily I have somewhere to store it but OMG!

Anywho, see the below map and be sad with me. In the meantime, I must enjoy my last days in Paris.

A bientot! Maybe :)

Ps. Did I tell you we're going to the Euro Disneyland tomorrow? Omg I could die. It says 26 degrees C and sunny on the forecast. WOOOOO!

How-to: Have the worst train ride EVER!

Now, it's been a while since I've written anything. I spent the last almost-week in the Netherlands for Queen's Day weekend, which meant there was a lot of intoxication culture and little time for the interwebs.

We'll touch on that later.

NOW! THE TRAINS! Good gracious, I can't catch a break with trains I swear to you. From the beginning:

I decided to go a day earlier to Groningen when I realized a) I had nothing to do the next day b) I had no money to go out (due to my epic shopping trip for orange clothing) and c) I wanted to be there NOW! So, I told Bradon to expect me a day early, packed my backpack full of orange and hoofed it to Charles Du Gaulle first thing in the morning. This was my first mistake. I figured since last time the train with the great deal (5 euro reservation fee only!) went out of CDG that meant it was consistent. Stupid girl.

I pay for my RER ticket this time, which is 10 euro, which I will never get over. Because of my determination to still use my Navigo pass, I had to get the RER ticket at the station where I switched lines. Stupid girl. I had to walk ALL the way through two stations till I finally found a place where I could buy a ticket (I'm not used to having to buy tickets!). Every single time I'd pass through a turnstile I would secure my Navigo pass inside my backpack, only to have to pass through another one in two minutes. Every single time I would be like, "Ok. That has to be the last time." No. Eight times. So, because of my poor planning I ended up missing the RER train that would get me to CDG in time to catch the first train out of Paris (according to my Eurail timetable). When I do finally get to CDG I walk right through those turnstiles with my handy ticket (HA!) and book it to the huge lineup at the ticket office. The one crappy thing about this eurail situation, is I can't just buy a reservation on one of those automatic ticket booths so I always have to stand in line and I ALWAYS have to deal with whether someone is having a good day or not.
In front of me in line this one guy was mad about how the train was running late (all of them were) and he wanted the lady at the ticket booth to make it run on time. She got pretty snippy, as did he. He finally asked for a manager and then he realized he was going to miss his train if he didn't leave right away so he started yelling that he had to leave. The manager got there and was like, "You asked to speak to me?" and the guy was like, "GIVE ME MY TICKET I HAVE TO GO NOW!" and it was all very silly.
That made everyone very cranky, luckily me, the mass of army men behind me in line and my future ticket clerk were all in a positive mood and found it funny. I finally get up to the desk and I tell the guy I wanna get on the next available train to Amsterdam and he looks at me like I'm nuts when I tell him I have a eurail. He tells me that I have to pay 30 euro for the full faire to Brussels. Thalys, from the Gare du Nord (no RER ticket), does a 39 euro reservation fee from Paris straight to Amsterdam, and that was the price I was dodging. I try to convince him he can find one for 5 euro because I've done it before. Yes, I was that customer. But I wasn't mean! I was cute! He finally finds a 5 euro ticket and just in time for me to get excited he says, "Oh... that's first class. You can only have second class with your eurail. That's 30 euro." which makes NO SENSE! I finally give in because the train is leaving in 5 minutes. I pay up quickly and then the ticket takes like 3 whole minutes to print so my train is going to leave in no time. I ask which platform, he points, I book it and try to run down the up escalator. That is not the last time I do that in this day, by the by. I book it to the platform, and it's empty. PANIC. I worry it's left already, so I ask the train man and he says not to worry but to wait where I am. I don't trust him. Good thing! I look at the platform diagram and realize I have to run like a kilometer down the platform to where my train is currently stopped. I RUN! I get there, wheezing, get my seat and the train leaves like a minute later. Relaxation time.

Attempting to take photos from the train with my iPhone... it really wasn't a very nice day!

Then, like 15 minutes until we are set to arrive in Brussels, I think, "Jeez! This is silly! No one is even going to check if I have a ticket I totally could have gotten away with not buying this!" Immediately after this thought I turn around to see ticket man two rows away from me. I scramble to get my ticket ready. Remember how I was told this ticket I bought was full faire? Yea, so I didn't bother to get my eurail pass out. I present my ticket, he asks for my pass. I think, maybe he wants to see my passPORT so I grab that. He asks to see the eurail. I grab it, present it, and he starts typing into his little palmpilot-y thing. THEN! THEN!!!
"That'll be ten euro."
"WHAT! WHY?" Que waterworks. Instant waterfall.
"You did not fill in the date of your eurail, it is not validated, you must validate before you board the train."
This confuses me, because I copied the date down early in the morning, so I think he is mistaken. I point to the date I wrote in and look up at him all scared-like. He grabs my ticket and points at the date on it. Date on eurail: April 24, date on ticket: April 25. STUPID GIRL! I explain that I just screwed up the date and that I can fix it RIGHT NOW with my handy pen! To which he just grimaces at me and asks for the ten euro. I hand him my lunch money (big bully!) and continue sobbing hysterically to the horrified looks of all those around me. THANK GOD I didn't have a seat companion, that would have been so awkward.
So, I get to Brussels, a red-faced snotty mess, and I glare at the train man as I leave. I then go cry in the washroom for a little bit for a fee of 50 eurocents. Then, I have to find my next train because it leaves in fifteen minutes. I find the platform and go to walk up the seemingly-stopped escalator when -- here it is! -- I get one step up before it starts moving against me. I squeel, which to me sounds muffled cause I have earphones in, but who knows how loud that was. I trip all over myself, spin around and kind of skip away. Then I try to giggle it off, which comes out all snotty because I've been crying. I sound and look crazy, I'm sure. I get up to my platform and realize I should fix my eurail pass in case any other bullies come along. I see a crowd of train people chatting. I approach with my eurail pass and pick out the one female to help me out. At this point I've written over the 4 with a 5 and then gone through the whole pass darkening all my writing so it fits. It screams mischief. I ask the lady if it will be accepted because... (insert sob story here). She pats my arm and says, "Go sit down. Don't worry!", which causes me to tear up again. I am paranoid the whole day, by the way. I continue to worry.
I'm on the train which will get me to Amsterdam so I feel a little relieved that at least I've achieved that! I try to sleep, or at least fake sleep to calm myself down. The ticket man comes, checks out my eurail and stamps it and moves on. YES! Now no one can do anything about it because he stamped the date. Success. I realize around here that I am starving because I have eaten nothing all day except the handful of leftover rusty lettuce in my fridge.
Then we stop in Dordrecht. Ohhh Dordrecht. This is supposed to be one of those five minutes stops along the trip to the final destination: Amsterdam. Announcements in every language of the world commence. English is ALWAYS last. He says something about a gas leak and, "Waiting indefinitely" and something about needing to switch trains if you have to make a connection in Amsterdam. I wait forty minutes before going into a panic that I will be stuck in where-the-eff-is-Dordrecht. I text Bradon and he calls me with some potential new route options. He is lovely. The only trains that go to Amsterdam from here run on the same track that my train is stalled on. Boo. We come up with the idea that I will take a train backwards towards Roosendaal (30 min trip) where I will catch a train to either Rotterdam or Amsterdam. I do so, and a couple train switches later, GUESS WHERE THE TRAIN STOPS? Dordrecht. I notice, from this train, that my previous train is no longer stalled. This is two hours later, for some perspective. Luckily, the train I am currently on continues on course from Roosendaal to Amsterdam. Bradon suggests I go from Rotterdam, not Amsterdam, 'cause it's closer. I follow his advice, getting off the train before the final destination at the Rotterdam Centraal station. I grab a wall burger here. The Wall is the most brilliant thing in the world. It's like a hot, 'fresh', food vending machine. I inhale my burger that tastes like sausage.
The rest of the trains go alright. The connection in Amersfoort to Groningen works out perfectly and I get to Groningen in time for Bradon to pick me up before the soccer game starts. All is well! Despite my train trip being super expensive as well as super stressful! Bradon has food. Joy!

Good start to a weekend, eh? We went out that night. Yup. I'm a trooper. That's all for now though! There will be photos this trip though, I promise. Eventually!

Bisous!

Groningen!

The Road to Groningen: Drama drama drama....!

Easter weekend was coming up, which meant my highly anticipated visit to Bradon in Groningen was coming up too! For my last day in Paris for a little bit, Kendra and I spent the day going to the Grande Mosquee of Paris, Musee du Moyen Age and more Chez Papa with our favorite frenchman! Then... off to Groningen... but first! PICTURES!

The tea room of the Mosquee was the real reason we went. Unfortunately, it was a super rainy day, so it wasn't as beautiful as it could have been. It still managed to be adorable, though!

The selection of pastries... I was drooling while the two elderly french ladies in front of us painstakingly picked out 20 for takeaway. Excruciating!

The covered sunroom side of the tearoom was warmer, but kinda... creepy feeling. We opted for an outside table, despite the rain.

Pastries were 2 E each, as was the cup of ABSOLUTELY AMAZING sweet mint tea. Honestly, one of the most surprising tastes yet it Paris. I wasn't expecting it to be so... fresh AND honey-like! Kendra laughed at my expression of completely-overwhelmed-with-beauty-and happiness.

Up close and personal with my baclava and ... swirly version of baclava? I honestly just got that cause it was the biggest pastry and they all cost the same.

Inside the actual Mosquee (which took us a while to find the real entrance) ... so surreal.

Look at Kendra inappropriately praying! Just kidding... I surprise-photographed her. There was a school group checking out the Mosquee as well (Yes... it is spelt with two e's, and it's pronounced mosk-ay here!). There was also an architecture sketching group spread all over the place. I wanted to be part of their class.

How is this place so GREEN already?

Beautiful!

Pretty Epic! After that, we debated some options of what to do with the rest of our day before dinner, and we decided upon the Musee du Moyen Age at Hotel Cluny because it was nearish, and sort of on the way to Chez Papa. No photos of inside, cause I was too busy learning stuff, but it was pretty epic. There was stuff in there over a 1000 years old! There was also a fridgedaire room that was excavated out of the ruins under the hotel that was so incredibly unexpected and HUGE! It was this GIANT room of whatever was there a bajillion years ago with columns that dated back to Christ times! Madness! There were also lots of pieces of art with circumcision in them, so we giggled a lot. We kept saying, "Oh, Jesus!" to express amazement, only to realize everything we were looking at had something to do with Jesus and we would feel rather inappropriate. The one time I thought to take pictures was in one room that was part of the original hotel... a little chapel of some kind that managed to survive through all the wars and madness and stay completely intact. It's pretty impressive.

After that we arranged with our frenchman friend, Michel, to meet up a little early for coffee before dinner. While at coffee a lady asked for directions and, since I've been to Chez Papa now 4 time, I was a little familiar with the area so I helped her out. Michel said, "That was really nice of you, a Parisian would never help her out." To which, I came to the realization, that THAT is why everyone asks me for directions. NOT because they believe I am Parisian, but because I'm so clearly not Parisian, I might try and help even if I'm not sure! We all laughed at my expense at this realization, and then continued laughing for the next couple of hours all the way into our dinner at Chez Papa. Dinner was amazing, as always. I didn't photograph any food! WHAT WAS I DOING? Well, laughing a lot. And trying to learn french from Michel who is so, so patient with us. We eventually all had to go to our various responsibilities that night, so we sadly parted ways. While laughing.

I frantically packed that night and then sat on Facebook for a good hour paranoid about the following morning with my 10 am train. I was told to be at the platform an hour early to claim my reservation. The lady who sold me my tickets before, is clearly a mean one. I get there an hour early, decide I should ask what's up at the ticket office, so I wait in like for fifteen minutes. I somehow ended up talking to the nicest, english-speaking ticket lady EVER! When I asked how I claimed my reservation she kindly informed me that I already had one and I didn't have to be there early. I asked if maybe she could check if there were any cheaper trains since I'd stood in line, and she happily told me there was one that would cost me 5 EURO, not 40 like the girl had told me was the only option before. The only catch? It left from charles Du Gaulle, not Gare du Nord. And not for two hours. There goes my day in Amsterdam! But I was so stoked, I happily exchanged my ticket with my refund going right back on my credit card. She offered to also exchange my return ticket, but I didn't want to get ahead of myself. She then excitedly told me that I could even use my eurail pass to get to the airport, so I wouldn't need to buy that ticket either! Here is where my misinterpretation comes in. 

I thanked her profusely, grabbed my backpack, grabbed a quick brekkie at a nearby cafe (6 E!), and hopped on the RER B to CDG (look at all them letters!). About half an hour later I joyfully hopped off the train and strolled up to CDG to check out my train details. Unfortunately, like every other RER train this one needed a validated ticket for exiting the platform. Which I did not have. I pulled out my eurail pass and stared at it for ten minutes, trying to figure out how it was supposed to help me pass this barrier. Meanwhile, everyone else on my train passes through effortlessly with little beeps of their tickets. I finally realize that something has gone wrong and I probably should have just shelled out the 9 euro for the RER ticket, but it's too late now, so I press the little help button by the turnstiles. 5000 times. Half an hour later, moved to tears I am still frantically pressing the stupid help button. I conclude it must not be working. I walk across the platform to the other help button. It makes a clicky sound! I press it -- nothing. I hold it and speak into the perforated plastic cover -- nothing. Fifteen minutes or so of repeat until this little french lady realizes that I am stuck and confesses that she too is stuck! We both continue to press the button and be frustrated. Finally I start crying, and she precedes to start patting my back nattering on in French and making tut tut sounds.

Finally, a third man joins our party, and after more frustration a gate of the turnstiles opens. We think it's for us so the man runs through -- only to have it close on half his body. He wrestles through it, which then brings about the idea for the lady, who squeezes through the little plastic door. She then beckons me to pass her my backpack and squeeze through. Another mob of ticket-wielding passengers in disembarking a train so it's now or never. I bite the bullet, trust this lady with my backpack which I toss over the barrier, squeeze through the panels (praying security doesn't now decide to answer our pleas), rip out a little bit of hair on the way, but break free into the CDG train terminal! Oh the drama. 

Then I realize it's still and hour and a half till my train. I fool around on facebook for an hour, and then decide I should probably figure out my ticket. I talk to the guy at the counter who says it's all good for me to go on the train with my little reservation and validated eurail pass as long as I validate the ticket at one of the yellow boxes. I thank him and then precede to run around the terminal like a maniac looking for the STUPID YELLOW BOX! Unfortunately, the little machines where you can buy tickets are also yellow so I spent a very long time trying to figure out how to validate my ticket on one of these, likely looking like both and idiot and a maniac. Tears were shed. Finally I decided SCREW VALIDATION, because I needed to get to my train (ten minutes till departure!). I exit the sliding glass doors to the platform and... there is a little yellow box that says 'validate' on it. I laugh hysterically and shed some more tears, and attempt to validate the ticket, now deciding that if it didn't work, it wasn't 'meant to be'.

I get to the platform and the train is delayed. I make sure I'm on the right part of the platform so I can LEAP onto my train before it speeds away. The train comes, I excitedly find my seat and get all comfy, and then 20 MINUTES LATER it finally leaves. I am now realizing this is only my first major train, and that I have a connection to make in Brussels. I also have never taken a train before at this point, so I have no idea how to know when to get off. I still, also, don't trust I'm on the right train. Three hours of Death Cab for Cutie and watching the scenery go by, I arrive in Brussels. Yes, three hours. Know why? Because my five euro ticket is most certainly NOT a high speed train. I have five minutes to make my connection so I jump around looking possessed until I find a screen with all my platform info and... ha! This train is delayed ten minutes. I get to my platform which is STACKED with elderly brits. Their (also british) tour guide is informing them all that, "the next train may be a bit packed, because the earlier one was cancelled!". He is very cheerful, but you can see under the cheer that he is absolutely pissed. My keen actor abilities help me to see subtext, ya know. 

Anyways, finally we get on the train and I end up in what is probably the train-equivalent of the 'bitch seat' -- the little lonely one seat at the back by the noisy door to the cabin where the announcer guy sits. Now, it is worth noting that Bradon had told me I would need to be on the right half of the train because it would split at some point in my journey. I didn't realize he meant my very last train to Groningen, so for the entire journey I thought every single train I was on was going to break in half and I would be on a completely different route than planned. For the next four hours, since there was no way I could sleep, I read the entire book The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. I do not recommend holocaust books while worrying where your train is heading. It was a good book though. I cried. Surprise! 

Finally, I end up in Amsterdam. Here, I think I'm home free. I have it in my head that Amsterdam is like a half hour away from Groningen and that I just have to hop onto this train that will be waiting there for me. NO! WRONG! I am starving at this point, so I grab an amazing pastry that vaguely resembles a danish (heh heh) and eat it in 30 seconds flat. I had two dutch girls gawk at me in full disgust. I got crumbs everywhere in my circle scarf, and then struggled to rid myself of them for the next 2 minutes. They continued to gawk. I just wanted to tell them I was Canadian so they would like me!

I try my hand at those yellow machines again to figure something else -- no. I go to information and ask how to get to Groningen. He says, "Platform 13b, via Amersfoort" to which I reply, "OMG THANKS SOOOO MUCH!" Ugh. I'm so embarrassing. I get on this train and end up sitting in a little booth with two ladies who bought a lot of hand cream and are each sharing the smells of ALL their finds which each other (and... by proximity, with me). A guy who seems my age is also sitting in our little group of seats. I immediately put headphones in and pretend to be asleep. The old ladies chat in dutch with the guy the whole train ride, which I struggle to keep from giggling at because DUTCH IS SOOOO FUNNY!!!!!! Really. I have never found a language so hilarious sounding! It doesn't sound real! Maybe I was just passed the point of no return with my sanity at this point, but all I wanted to do was giggle and mock. Mean mean girl. 

So the whole train ride I'm panicking that THIS is the train that spits in half. The old ladies indicate they're getting off at a stop, so I stand up to let them past me into the aisle. One of the ladies trips and grabs out AT MY SCARF, which, reminder, is a circle so she CHOKES ME! And then she laughs at me when I have a shocked expression and pushes past me out of the train. I then turn music on my headphones and act real pissed for the next couple stops till our train terminates. In Amersfoort! Now I'm in a real panic, because, WHERE THE HELL IS AMERSFOORT? This platform also is not very, "Hi, I'm a city people actually live in"-esque either, so... after, let's say, 10 hours so far of random trains, this is not what I want to have to deal with. I frantically text Bradon, who is on his way into an exam. He tries to explain the system to me in as few characters as possible because we are both trying to conserve texts. I cry some more and get mad at Bradon for no particular reason and then ask a train conductor, in tears, which train I should be getting on. He tells me where to wait, and for what train, and then I sulk for twenty minutes while waiting for it. 

FINALLY the train that has Groningen as it's destination arrives and... there are no seats left for me once I find the 2nd class cabin. I am feeling very indignant at this point. But I playing the part of brave backpacker so I stand strong for the next 45 minutes or so until a lovely old lady (sooo many old ladies!!) grabs my attention to give me her seat as she departs the train. Neener neener neener I think at the people who come onto the train at this point and have to STAND! MUAHAHA! I sit for the next 45 minutes or something on facebook (free wifi!) looking at goofy photos and feeling significantly cheered. 'Backpacking' brings out the brat in me. 

Once the train arrives in Groningen all my random anger for Bradon is gone and I happily book it off the train, excitedly looking for that cute boy. When I track him down I do my best to make it a Love Actually-esque reunion. It's cute and stuff. Then we have to walk to the dorm, but I couldn't care less! Even though I could swear my foot arches were exploding.

That's all for now, because the fun stuff that happened in four days of Groningen would make this blog a little to much along the same length as The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. I'll write soon! I'm all sick in Paris right now so... what else am I going to do?! BISOUS! (X3 to be all dutch-like, ja?)

My brain got art-attacked

Tuesday: Went to the George Pompidou Centre but it was closed; wandered towards Hotel De'ville for a free expedition; browsed the BHV; went to the Musee d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris (long name) for a couple amazing hours; went to Trocadero for some views; and then walked around looking for a Pierre Hermes where there wasn't one (no free Macarons for us, boo). Wednesday: went to the Gare du Nord to figure out Eurail stuff and just ended up buying reservations to visit Bradon in Groningen; wandered around looked for a store with only knowing the metro stop -- lost; wandered around a sketchy neighborhood where I would have been living had my first apartment foray turned out (bullet = dodged); went back to George Pompidou, got in for free because I flashed my youth card, spent six blissful hours wandering; and met up with Kendra and followed my guide book to this indian food restaurant (Krishna Bhavan) around the Gare du Nord area where we accidentally both tipped a good 25% when service was probably included. 

PICTURES!

Despite the museum being closed Tuesday, we still got a sweet view of the amazing fountain art.

Stumbled upon this little gem: a 70's vintage boutique. We had to leave right away otherwise I would have spent everything I own. PURPLE!

The free exhibit at Hotel De'Ville. It was a neat photography exhibit, but both of us were missing some part of the why-this-is-important puzzle. Out of context, it just looked like a collection of photos spanning a time frame that didn't really document anything despite being taken in the same area. It was very confusing. I felt very left out because people would be like, "ooooooh!", I'd look, and it'd be like... "Oh! Another aerial picture of a market from 1956!?" Any insight would be greatly appreciated!

Musee d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris!

Woah.

Matisse!

I would love to have the memory to explain why I thought evidence of my viewing ALL these pieces of art needed to be documented. I recognized every artist's name, so I'd get stoked. Then there would explanations of the movement on the wall, and I'd get more stoked -- contextualizing gets me stoked. But... alas... so much learning in a day means I basically remember nothing except, this stuff is beautiful.

Mirror picture! But not necessarily on purpose!

I am so fascinated by the combinations of colors artists think of when they see skin. Like... REALLY! Look at that! How did your brain see that?! Amazing. 

Again... ahhhh! So breathtaking!

LOVED seeing the incredible difference between these modern sculptures and the collection at the Orsay. I love this ones legs. A lot. So different.

 

SURREALISM AND DADA AH!

Again. How the heck, do those brush strokes, of solid color, combine in someone's brain to create a whole? One day!

Some stuff makes me laugh. Like this one. Condensation cube! Of course it's art, it's fascinating. But this guy thought to present it that way. Love it love it love it.

I also really love that it's impossible to photograph how cool this guy was. I saw something like this at the Pompidou on Thursday too. It's really hard to look at, like it messes with your perception of dimensions. It's a canvas with tiny micro-stripes on in with this array of metal rods hanging in front of it. It's really not something you can describe, but it is dizzying and awesome.

Art made of bark. So gorgeous ah.

I can't even begin to describe why I loved all of these, but... y'all need to check out this museum! It's all laud out movement-by-movement and it explains it all and it's FREE!

Sweet staircase down to the basement installations.

Room of phonebooks. I looked this guy up after the fact and I guess this piece, like a lot of his stuff, is meant to represent to huge mass of people in this world figuratively in one small place. I guess, to make the space feel full of the people because of their presence in the artifacts? I really wanted to pick up the Alberta phone book and see if my family name was in it. Picking yourself out of billions is a natural instinct, I think. There were tables, and benches in a room of books... but it's an exhibit! So conflicted!

More examples of his stuff. (Artist: Christian Boltanski)

FAVORITE! Just watch the videa, imagine that it keeps going with more and more absurd items for like an hour. So awesome. I am giggling because... well... it's funny. It's also kind of... not funny... which made me like it more.

After that jolly experience we walk to the other room and see this. I didn't photograph or record anything to document it because... kind of was in shock I'd say. So entranced and horrified and emotional and... ugh! Read the blurb on the website. I can't do it justice.

More fun room!

Then we left without having seen any of the paid exhibits ... which means there is so much more to see still! Also, next door is Palais Tokyo which we will have to do one day. 

Beautiful evening at Trocadero. This is spring... what summer must be like!

I don't do a blog entry without food. This pear tart was so delicious I ate it in like a minute while trying desperately to savor it! The bottom was all cocoa-y. Mmm... I think maybe it was a little burnt... but... I think it made it better.

Next day at Pompidou! It's quite the ordeal getting up there through all the escalators but it's so neat. It was just REALLY hot when I went cause the sun was beating down on these plastic chambers full of sweaty people. Bah. 

Warhol!

Pretty awesome GIANT sculpture. Anything even slightly hinting at Alice in Wonderland, even if it isn't the artist's intentional and just my own connection, get's me pretty excited. The artist has some sort of biological sciences background which he uses to create sculptures which communicate a series of hallucinogenic reactions via the mushrooms that can cause them. So... Cool...

This one had three (I think) versions/stories of one encounter as told from different perspectives all connecting at one point while filling this space.

SO COOL! I wish I could flip this video :(

Description photographed below! This was a giant wall. I noticed a lot of contemporary art was HUGE!

Funny story behind this one. So this room (see photographed description below video) had a film go every 8 minutes. I watched it 4 times. The fourth time was when Kendra and I met up and I was like, "You have got to see this thing." Now, what I had seen the first three times was not what Kenda and I ended up watching. What I had seen the first three times, was what is below...

Yea. Blank screen. Except in the white-room-going-to-black-eyes-losing-focus chaos that my haven't-eaten-all-day mind was going through, I straight up hallucinated the sweetest videos ever. And, because of the description (below), I honestly thought it was the most brilliant concept ever. So, what I saw, was kind of northern lights-esque, which when trying to focus on the dark screen was hard to see (duh...) but when I let my eyes focus a-la-Magic-Eye there were rainbow lights and stuff! It was so bad ass, and clearly different every time and so fleeting that I thought this computer was creating a random sequence of Magic-Eye projections which your brain would only accept if you stopped searching for them. So I was stoked stoked stoked on 'getting it', to the point that I shared this discovery with a couple who were like... ok... stupid exhibit. They went back to watch it again after they talked with me. Hey! Maybe all you need is to believe! 

So when I wanted to share this experience with Kendra, all of a sudden the video was working. And there were actual videos. Maybe these videos would have been cool if I hadn't seen what my brain created all by itself earlier. I was so disappointed! Also, embarrassed that I had shared my version of events. Also, excited, that my brain is that creative all by itself! Anyways, that was my funny story.

This 'table' thing was created by a computer by being laser-ed out of something like 200 pieces of plywood which were there glued together by hand. So neat. It's cool seeing how art can evolve with technology! 

Coolest. Thing. Ever. I hope you can read the description (below), but this sound installation blew my mind. I love what people think of! It's so exciting! New ideas, everywhere! We haven't thought of everything yet ;)

More cool computer assisted sculpture. I love how math and programming and stuff I don't understand helped create this neat-o room-filling piece.  

 

You walk into this cave room thing and all sound is gone. SO COOL! Then the piano there made me instantly want to hop the barrier and see what it would sound like. Sometimes artists are mean and put those things there to mess with excitable people like me. Not cool man. Also... what is in the other part of the room!!? Does it sound the same? AH!

This guy had a card-file-thing of the process of creating something all lined out in this piece. Each card had a category with descriptions of events that lead to creating the piece itself. Such a cool idea. I hope you can read the one below.

Below: Cool stuff.

90% these were drunk people. It smelt boozy.

There had to be one of these! Sorry... I'm sure if I could understand the concept, context, intellectualism-behind-this I might be able to appreciate a solid canvas... but I don't understand, therefor I call this artist Lucky.

SO COOL AH! There is an exhibit right now called like Vintage or Retro or something like that with these vintage/retro living room set ups of random films. I watched a Samuel Beckett performance on film, a news story from the 60's, raunchy nude performance art, experiments, soap operas -- amazing! I spent a good hour alone in here, and I didn't finish a single video. You could spend a day here, easily.

THEN! There is archive access on computer to watch some of 100's of videos! It's all categorized, so I watched a bunch of movement stuff. Free movement archives FILLED with new vocabulary? Yes. Please. I will be back frequently.

Lucky me, on my switch from the Contemporary wing to the modern wing I caught this beautiful sight.

Picasso lalala!

The centre has panoramic views too! EVERYWHERE! I could have found my way out there, but I had art to see. I was on a mission.

Amazing. Description below below of this movement. I just really loved this piece. Hence, close-ups.

DALI AH! Penises hehehe. Stood behind an asian man contemplating this for five-ten minutes.  

This concept (Trapped something?) was that by capturing something exactly as found and changing the plane (from horizontal to vertical) it became art. Love.

Picasso ahhh!

This thing was really high up so my zoom on my camera is EPIC! At this point I had stopped reading stuff cause my brain was mush, but this was just plain cool.

Then we went for Indian. Mmm...

 

We accidentaly ordered that giant rice platter in the center when trying to just order rice for our curries. Too funny. Luckily, it was delicious. We ended up also ordering some plain rice to go along with our curry, but by then we were dying of exploding tummys. 

DONE!

And so was my last two days. Mmm! Now I have to figure out what today will be!

Bisous! Au revoir.