You know what? Eat your corn.

I apologize in advance for the brevity of this update; I have so much to do tonight but I wanted to write something before our Paris adventure begins! Mom and Dad visited this past weekend, so we did a lot of exploring of Cannes and French cuisine. Apparently, they fooled at least one Frenchman into thinking they were British - God save the Queen! I will let them give you the details of their stay, but one of the highlights was finding Pacific Xpress, a restaurant in Cannes with some of the best food (salad, lasagna, cod, and chocolate cake) I've had in my life! We made friends with the waiters there and I will definitely have to go back before the semester is over.

On Saturday, we went with a group from the Collège to the city of Aix-en-Provence, about two hours away. Tino, who works for the Collège, is from the area and he took us on a short tour of the city and to the artist Cézanne's studio on the outskirts of town. We had plenty of time to explore, and we managed to get extremely lost trying to re-find the Cathedral (even with a map). It was a nice day trip to get out of Cannes; Aix is a beautiful little city that feels a little like Tours in en automne (in autumn) but more ancient. We kind of missed the morning market, but there was a street band playing that reminded me a lot of Commando Fête, the nine-piece band I found in Sarlat three years ago (I tried to find them again but they appear to be on tour in Belgium at the moment).

As usual, Dad met and fed new friends while we were there. I'm sure he would be welcome back to Aix or Nice anytime in the opinion of the pigeons.

On Sunday, we went to Nice so Mom and Dad could be close to the airport. We had dinner (see my croque madame pictured to the left) and walked around the vieille ville before I took the train back to Cannes. It was a very relaxing weekend and it was great to see some faces from the United States!

Yesterday, we discovered that la grève continue encore jeudi (the strike will still be going Thursday), and there are supposedly going to be very few trains running. This is simply not acceptable because the CSB/SJUers are Paris-bound for the weekend! So, Beth got our train tickets changed and we leave tomorrow evening on a direct train to Paris! It's supposed to be cold and possibly rainy there, so a group of us scrambled to find warm things in town yesterday. Also, we have to get all our work done that's due over the weekend (we have a project that we're doing Friday morning for Beth's class in Paris) and early next week (our research project for Histoire de l'art)! AND we must pack. Regina and I are about to make a Monoprix run for stockings (which are très cher ici - very expensive here - for some reason) and I need to complete my Halloween costume - I have a 1920s flapper ensemble in the making! Watch out, Paris!

Besides that, we had a field trip in Histoire de l'art today to the perched village of Saint-Paul de Vence (where we went on our first weekend here) to see an art museum! It was fantastic! I love our prof, Corinne - it is so helpful to have someone there to explain the background of the art. The museum was small and kind of bizarre, but it had a little of everything. There was one exhibit outside that was created specifically for this museum; there were many modern sculptures that made the garden feel like a primitive, ancient tribal land with its own written language and figures. It was like the artist's made up world. There was also a chapel-like area where spiritual themes and abstract art were meshed to make you feel the spirituality instead of see concrete figures and paintings. I had never thought of abstract art in that way before; you really have to change your mindset when you experience it in order to get the most possible out of it.

Oh, and if you're wondering about the post title, here's a little something to keep you laughing this weekend:

You know what? Eat your corn.

Peace out, Cannes! See you on Monday...unless, of course, the trains strike!! What could we possibly do with another whole day in Paris...?

There and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale

Get ready. This is going to be one of those epic stories of unsuspecting college students planning on galavanting about Europe for a lovely weekend until they come crashing back down to earth as everything goes wrong. My first experience in Italy was definitely one to remember.

In case you haven't been watching the news, France is still overly obsessed with its strike (or romantically reliving the Revolution, as my French professor says) and transportation has been sketchy for over a week now. Katie and Alejandra and I had been thinking about a trip to Cinque Terre, Italy, but we didn't want to buy train tickets for trains that wouldn't be running. On Friday, we went down to the train station to ask, and luckily, they had an itinerary for us and we got extremely cheap round-trip tickets to Genova and back! From Genova, we would just have to buy tickets to one of the five towns that make up Cinque Terre (oui, hence the name). We were ecstatic. Since we had papers yet to write for Beth's class by midnight on Friday, all we had time to do in preparation was to throw some clothes in a suitcase and look at a couple of hiking trail maps online.

Saturday morning began decently enough; after all the excitement and paper-writing, we had each gotten about three hours of sleep and we had to power-walk to la gare in Cannes in the early morning darkness. Train #1 was from Cannes to Monaco, where we stopped for a quick café et croissant breakfast. Next was Monaco to Ventimiglia (Ventimille, in French), Italy, where we had a little time to wander and experience Italy! We noticed an immediate change in the style of the towns in the short half-hour train ride from Monaco to Ventimiglia; the houses and buildings were suddenly more colorful and they seemed to be embedded in the greenery of the landscape. In a lot of ways, I think it is more beautiful than the French Riviera.

We were definitely not ready for the cultural change, either; right when we got off the train, we were in the middle of stereotypical Italy - people yelling animatedly in Italian, crowds pushing and shoving each other around, and most people were actually smily and friendly! We had certainly left France. As we were in line for the restroom, a woman got stuck in the only available stall (the others had poop on the floor - as Katie later put it, "The poop was a SIGN!") and two guys had to come pry the door open; there was a big commotion and everyone applauded when the door finally opened. The town itself was actually very charming; there was a Saturday morning market in the two blocks between the station and the Mediterranean Sea, so we took a little walk and did some exploring. We ogled over a ton of huge terraces of flowers inside the market for a long time before we realized they were all fake. Another observation we were quick to make was that we don't speak Italian at all (college education has given us such intelligence) and speaking French with an Italian accent doesn't really work either. Even the "crash course" phrases Katie wrote up on a piece of notebook paper late Friday night didn't cover the vocabulary we needed to explain some of our predicaments.

Realizing that this might be a bit more difficult than we had first anticipated, we boarded train #3 to Genova. From there, we discovered that we'd need to take another two trains to get to Corniglia, the middle town of Cinque Terre where we were thinking about staying the night. Also, we weren't going to get there until around four in the afternoon, which wasn't ideal because we wanted to do some hiking to the farther two towns on Saturday afternoon. Mais, qu'est-ce qu'on peut faire? (But what can you do?) Interestingly (and sadly) enough, they don't speak French in Italy (even just a couple hours across the border) or even Spanish, but they all speak English.

Train #4 to Monterosso (the town on the end of Cinque Terre) passed very slowly; it was one of those that stopped at every single station along the way. When we disembarked, it was raining, which was great because it was supposed to be sixty degrees and sunny (meaning we had brought t-shirts and shorts for hiking, and a severe lack of umbrellas, ponchos, and raincoats).

Cold and wet, we boarded our last and shortest train to Corniglia. We were nearly there when one of the train workers came around to check tickets. When we handed ours over, he started scolding us in Italian; apparently, we didn't stamp our tickets in the yellow machine before getting on the train. (This was written in the fine print on the ticket...in Italian.) In France, the yellow composter (stamping) machines are bright yellow and there are tons of them right on the platform where you board the train. In Italy, they're really more of a goldenrod shade and they're shoved in the back corners of tourist offices and behind the doors to the platform and under the rug - it's like a game of hide-and-seek to find one. So this worker starts throwing an overly dramatic fit at us: "This time, is 5 Euros, but next time, you pay 50 EUROS!!" Then an older Italian lady sitting next to me told me I was bella (beautiful) and so Italy redeemed itself for the time being.

The train regurgitated us in Corniglia soon enough, where it was grey and drizzly. Of course, the Corniglia train station can't actually be IN Corniglia - it has to be at the bottom of the hill. The town itself is at the top. Somehow we avoided the 386-stair climb, but it was still a windy uphill hike. Corniglia was very small and very quiet - charming, but dreary with the weather. We started our search for a place to stay and didn't have to go very far before an old Italian woman started yelling at us from a window overlooking the street. We didn't understand a word she said except for "Si, si!" and we got the impression that she wanted us to wait for her to come down. She motioned for us to follow, so we started walking. And walking. And walking. Through the narrow streets of Corniglia. We had no idea where she was taking us or whether or not she was in cahoots with the mafia, but we were cold and wet and desperate. Eventually, she pulled out a key and we entered a building. We were afraid the mob was going to pop out of the closet inside the room she gave us, but happily, it was a nice mob-free place with a big bathroom and even a washing machine. It took awhile to communicate, but we managed to play an interesting game of charades and earned ourselves a hotel room!

From there, it was time to explore. We had a little time before dinner, so we took some pictures of the view and wandered around the town as much as we could - it was tiny. We also were able to figure out where the hiking trails were and make a plan for Sunday. We found an internet café to email Beth and let her know that we were alive and had a place to sleep. There we met another rather creepy Italian friend who bade us goodbye with, "Ciao. Good night. Sleep well. Think of me." Then we returned to our room to lay down for twenty minutes, and dragged ourselves out into the cold rain again for a nice warm pasta dinner. What do you know? - we were sitting right next to an older couple from New Brighton, Minnesota. I sincerely hope the woman was kidding about recognizing my accent...

It was freezing back in our room. We spent the night tossing and turning, wishing for more blankets, and listening to the howling wind and thunder outside. Our plan was to get up early and start hiking right away, but at seven in the morning, it sounded like hellish chaos outside and we decided to go back to bed. The Italian woman kicked us out of the hotel at ten in the morning, so we eventually had to layer on all of the clothes we had packed (nothing substantial enough) and set out for breakfast (they have latté macchiatos in Italy!). Then it was time to hit the trails! We set off through the hills (I kept thinking of the Fellowship traveling through Middle Earth in Lord of the Rings - I'm a nerd, I know - but don't worry, there were no orcs or other sword-wielding creatures) toward Vernazza, the town between Corniglia and Monterosso. To the left is a photo of dear old Corniglia as we left. I will always think fondly of our little old Italian friend peering out her window whenever I see a picture of this town...

It was still rather drizzly and cool, but the weather wasn't bad for hiking. It only took an hour and a half to get to Vernazza, and the hike wasn't bad at all. Some of the mud and rocks were slippery, and the cliffs were a little to close for comfort at times, but we had a lot of fun! There were a lot of great moments where Ale nearly fell of a cliff or I nearly slipped on rocks (of course, instead of being ready to catch each other, we were all set with our cameras to capture the moment). We didn't spent much time in Vernazza, but it was much livelier than Corniglia and there seemed to be more shops and restaurants to explore. It was built right on the water, so the main street opened up straight into a harbor.

Our train was due to leave Genova at around five o'clock, so we decided we should have time to walk to Monterosso and catch the train from there. The weather was getting nicer as the day went on.

What we didn't count on was the difficulty of the trail between Vernazza and Monterosso - it began with hundreds and hundreds of steps back up into the hills, and then there were some steps going down, and then back up. Basically, we went up and down a ridiculous number of steps. We got up pretty high into the hills (to where we could feel the altitude change) and the experienced hikers with their backpacks and poles were totally judging us. Oh well - we were just being hardcore.

We did make it to Monterosso alive and well! It took a little longer than we thought and we had to run straight to the train station to get to Genova in time. Our seven-kilometer hike, however, was a success! There were some truly beautiful views of the sea, hills, and towns, and we met a lot of great people along the way too. At one point, we were even speaking French and we fooled some English-speakers into thinking we were French. As we passed them, they asked "How - far - is - it?" very slowly with much articulation, like we weren't going to understand. We were proud of ourselves.

After all that, we thought our adventure was about over and we were a mere four train rides away from a warm shower and a good night's sleep. (Ha ha ha.) From Monterosso to Genova to Ventimiglia we traveled, arriving at our final connection in Italy around eight o'clock at night. As we were leaving the train, a woman in our compartment asked if we were headed to Monaco. We said yes, we had another connection there; we were planning on finding dinner there before hopping on the train back to Cannes. She replied that she wasn't sure, but the transportation strike was still going strong in France and all the trains into the country were canceled. Ha ha, we thought - we had talked to a real ticket agent in person at the train station, and this could not possibly be the case. But, after our weekend, we were not as surprised as we otherwise would have been when we ran to the lobby and read the train schedule:

What does "SOPRESSO" mean, you ask? That was my question as well, although I already knew the answer. It meant we were stranded in Italy until six o'clock on Monday morning! Thank you, French strikers, and thank you Président Sarkozy for not giving in and refusing to lower the retirement age back down to 60 years. It was now time to call in some back-up support; we were not prepared for a night on the cold floor of the train station with all the homeless people and creepers of Ventimiglia (although we did sit next to an intellectual homeless Sudoku-master for awhile) so we spent the next half hour in a battle with the stupid, needlessly-complicated pay phones, trying to get ahold of Beth. We made friends with a toothless French man who was also stranded; he wouldn't leave us alone but helped us with the phone and gave Katie his phone number (lucky girl). Luckily, Beth and Ross still had their rental car from the weekend, and they set off straight away to come rescue us.

I never thought I would be so happy to hear people speaking French everywhere! Finally, something I can understand! But wow - what a weekend. It didn't go at all according to our lack of plans, and it made for a great story. I was also glad that Katie, Ale, and I got to experience it together - the three of us worked so well together and we were very calm throughout everything.

Since I've been back, it's been a tough week but a great French language success for me! Monday and Tuesday were packed with almost ten hours of my internship, re-starting flute lessons (I have my flute back! FINALLY!), and regular classes. I am interning for six classes, and it is quite the challenge! Teaching is hard enough as it is, but add in the language barrier and switching between seven-year-olds and seventy-year-olds with no time in between - wow. On my first day, I ended up singing in French in front of little kids, proctoring a music theory test for high schoolers (talk about terrifying - the kids want to test my disciplinary boundaries and half the time I had no idea what they were saying...but I managed to use that to my advantage; they didn't know what I understood and what I didn't understand either...), and observing adults try to clap rhythms for an oral exam (hilarious). There is so much to take in! It's great to be able to observe French people in a real setting like that, and hear them speak up to speed, and understand it. It sounds cheesy, but it is also amazing to create and build relationships over something universal like music despite coming from different cultures and speaking different languages. Most of music is the same, and Régine is a wonderful teacher who shares my views of music and music education.

Well, I think that's enough excitement for one blog post. It's already time for another weekend, although this one shouldn't be quite as strenuous. Mom and Dad got here this morning and we spent the afternoon exploring Cannes. Saturday, we're going with the CSB/SJUers and Tino (un mec - a guy - on the staff here) to Aix-en-Provence, which is well-known for its Cézanne art museum.

Oh, and there's the rioting and terrorist threats too. But don't worry - the American media is blowing that all out of proportion. All I've seen are a handful of old people with flags and pamphlets outside of city hall.

Kidnapped by terrorists. Doing fine. Don't send help.

I have found my newest mission in life: I will build an army, march to Villandry, and take over. Who would have guessed that the castle I researched for French class when I was fifteen would end up to be my favorite in the Loire Valley?

So, it's been one crazy week, as usual. And I haven't had much time at all, but I figure I had better blog now before I leave on another adventurous weekend! Last Friday morning, I got up early to pack for our trip to Tours in the Loire Valley. I knew it was going to be a great weekend because I found coffee in to-go cups at a snack (that's legit franglais for a café) across the street. Then it was off to la gare with Laura. I had a typical Shanley travel experience (train-style, this time), as I arrived about three minutes before my train left and had to sprint all the way down to voiture 15 (car 15) where my seat was. Once I got settled, though, I knew I had found my new favorite way of traveling. The views were spectacular and I enjoyed taking artsy photos, writing postcards, and doing crosswords. The best part was when we were stopped at the station in Toulon - I was in the middle of a puzzle that happened to have the clue "To be, in Toulon". It was an exciting moment.

The first connection was in Lyon, where I met up with Lara and Mary Jo, the other two girls from the AIFS group who were traveling with us. Laura was on a different train on the way there. They were happy to see that I had made our train. From Lyon, it was on to Tours - the long ride. This time, though, it was exciting to see the California-esque towns of the south transform into cute little "Beauty and the Beast" towns of the central and northern regions. There were many farms and fields - it reminded me a little bit of the British countryside at times.

When we finally arrived in Tours, it was almost 9:00 at night. We split up to find our hotels; Laura and I were in a different one from the others. This was quite the adventure - it was dark, we didn't know the city well, and it turns out Google Maps lied to me about which way we were exiting the train station AND which street our hotel was on. Merci Dieu (thank God) for the iPod touch - after inconspicuously pawning free WiFi from McDonald's to look up a real map, we thought we were home-free.

That is, until we reached our hotel and found the door shut and locked and the lobby lights turned off. No bell. No one to answer a phone call at the desk.

Luckily, there was another hotel just next door. It was more expensive and just a little bit sketchy, but the rooms looked decent (and by decent I mean there was a private bathroom and no bed bugs - yes, I checked) so we went for it rather than wander around a strange city after dark. The man working at the desk appeared to live in the room behind the desk (he was ALWAYS there) and it wasn't until we were about to check out that we finally spotted another live human being, presumably a guest (not that we saw any corpses, but we wouldn't have been too surprised at that point). Anyway, the four of us met up again at the train station and found a wonderful Italian restaurant for dinner. They had fantastic pizza, pasta, and gelato.

Saturday morning, we got up bright and early for our castle tour! Laura and I stumbled upon a briocherie right across the street and got - you guessed it - brioches for breakfast. These are delicious pastries and we were there so early that they were still warm from the oven! We also grabbed baguettes for snacking purposes throughout the day, just in case.

Our tour bus turned out to be a small van, and in the morning, it was just the four of us and a woman from Australia. She was great to talk to - very friendly and we loved her accent. Our tour guide, Cécile, was also quite the character. She spoke in English during the morning part because the Australian woman didn't speak much French. Our morning lineup was Villandry and Azay-le-Rideau, the castles I've never seen before. It was a beautiful morning - the skies were clear and there was just a tiny bit of fog and haze that made it seem like we were in a fairy tale. Villandry was absolutely one of my favorite places in France - the gardens were gorgeous and elaborate. We even sneaked a taste of some grapes growing on the terrace and I may have swiped a very small, neglected-looking apple (which was delicious, by the way, and so worth it). We didn't have time to go inside the castle itself, but the gardens were the real attraction and we were so happy we spent all our time there.

Next, it was time for Azay-le-Rideau. This was a castle surrounded by water that was designed by a woman (which was very unusual for that time) and the feminine influence was obvious. It was small, and the rooms inside were cozy and intimate. We made sure that we left some time to walk around the outside of the castle - it is famous for its reflection in the oh-so-calm water, which really was incredible. Exactly like a mirror.

Afterwards, Cécile dropped us off in Tours again for a quick lunch (quiche and a very messy but delicious éclair) and we met up again at the bureau de tourisme (tourist office). This time, there were four other students who joined us for the afternoon - one from the United States, one from Italy, and two from Germany. Everyone spoke French, so our afternoon tour was given all in French. Our two castles were Chenonceau and Chambord, which I have seen before, but they are stunning and definitely worth a second look. Chenonceau is another one designed in a feminine style, the setting of the ever-famous Diane de Poitiers/Catherine de Medici drama. (Chenonceau was built by Henri II for his mistress, Diane de Poitiers, which did not make his wife, Catherine de Medici, particularly happy. There are several engravings in the castle of a crest with H and C, which intertwine to create a D. All Hill-Murray Frenchies should remember the white board drawings of that crest well.) Also, Chenonceau is the only castle built across the Loire like a bridge. On the second floor, there was an art exhibit by André Brasilier. I'd never heard of him before, but he specializes in painting musical and feminine scenes - perfect. I loved his work. The only bad part was that Chenonceau is STILL under construction, so (as you can see below) there was monstrous scaffolding. Oh well.

Everyone was nodding off on the way to Chambord. We did pass Cheverny and Fougeres on the way and at least one person got a picture of each as we zoomed by. Chambord was having a chocolate festival! Quelle chance! (What luck!) There were also musicians setting up in the foyer of the castle (real musicians including violin, viola, cello, harpsichord, and I swear I heard a flute...) We didn't get to hear them actually play, but they were doing microphone testing so we listened to their warm-ups. Chambord is a massive castle with lots of exhibits and terraces to explore, and we had quite a bit of time here.

Afterwards, we drove along the Loire and got a beautiful view of the town of Blois. I wish we had gotten to stop at the castle there; for some reason, I've always found it rather enchanting. By that time, though, we were all exhausted and falling asleep in the van, so we were happy to return to Tours for the evening.

We weren't done, though - I was determined to see at least something in Tours! This is the second time I've been there (not to mention the presentation I gave on it for Dubin's class), and both times I've gotten really good vibes from the city and never gotten to fully explore it. We all decided to head to the Cathedral, which far exceeded my expectations. It is a massive building; the engravings are indescribably elaborate. The inside was like ice. I suppose it takes a lot to heat the building, and it is only mid-October. It really was an amazing sight.

By this time, we were starving and our feet were giving out, and nobody wanted to spend a lot of money on food. We were super classy; we grabbed packaged sandwiches from a grocery store and ate them while sitting on a curb. It actually made for great people-watching.

To me, Tours was a great example of one of the points in a book I've been slowly reading over the semester: Sixty Million Frenchmen Can't Be Wrong. It talks about the cultural differences between France and the United States (written by a couple; the man is French and the woman is Canadian, if I remember correctly), and one that I found most interesting was the fact that in France, they live amidst their history in their everyday lives. I think that that is what I love most about France; they don't block off historical monuments and areas in the way we do - they live in, work in, and visit them every day. I took a video while I was in Tours standing in the middle of the place (square) in front of the train station. As you stand in one spot and turn 360 degrees, you could see the tourist office and a very touristy street; an older, historic-looking street, the train station and other fancy, artistic buildings; a bike path lined with huge, lush trees; and a monstrosity of a modern building that appeared to be a kind of convention center. It was incredible.

The other thing I really enjoyed about Tours was that it has a real autumn! The leaves were just starting to change color. I bet if we were there right now, it would be stunning.

Saturday night was another evening where I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Luckily, all of our stuff was intact and present when we got back to the hotel room (not that we dared to leave anything valuable, but I did appreciate having pajamas to sleep in). Sunday morning was even earlier than Saturday - our train left at seven in the morning. This time, we were early.

It was freezing cold on the train to and in Paris, but we were not complaining - we were in Paris for two hours! It was Sunday morning in the off-season, though, so there wasn't much open. We had to switch train stations, and we thought about running to see the Bastille in our free time, but coffee won out. There were a bunch of cute cafés near the Gare de Lyon, where we were to catch our train back to Cannes, and we successfully ordered in French in Paris on very little sleep WITHOUT the server speaking English back to us.

The last leg of the journey to Cannes was maybe the weirdest part of the whole weekend. I was in a voiture apart from everyone else, and decidedly, it was the crazy car. Not even five minutes into the trip, a woman a few rows away started throwing a FIT. I didn't catch what the man sitting across from her did, but this was one of the times I was thrilled to be able to understand a lot of French. She said a lot, including her taglines, "You're not respecting me!" "Je n'accepte pas!!!" ("I don't accept that!!!") "Ferme ta bouche!" ("Shut up!") She then went on to yell a lot about a medication, her four children, and something about anorexia, and she kept demanding that the man switch seats. She also used every French profanity that I know and probably many more that I don't know. Some other passengers tried to calm her down (she started throwing punches at them and her husband, presumably, had to restrain her) and many more around me made snide comments. One of the train workers eventually stopped by (they take their own sweet time in France) after she had returned to her seat; I'm not sure what was decided. After that fiasco, there was an old lady who kept running up and down the aisle, pointing at the suitcases, raving about the weather, running up and down the stairs, and obsessing over getting off at the right stop for the last twenty minutes of the trip. It was definitely an interesting traveling experience.

This week has been a lot of school. I officially began my internship at the Conservatoire. The kids are just adorable! It is taking a lot to get used to it; music may be the "universal language" but music theory is quite another story! Next week, I'll be there for all three classes on both Monday and Tuesday; it's going to be difficult to keep my head in French mode (REAL French mode, at real French speed) for four and a half hours in the evenings. But it'll be worth it. Also, I get my flute back next Tuesday! Finally!

We also had to finish up our movie for cinema class. It's taking longer than expected; editing technology is stupid and so was our boom mic, apparently. So...we're still not finished. We did, however, finally finish our French Revolution reacting game for Beth's class! My character died. But so did most of us, and King Louis XVI was put back on the throne and there was no revolution - that was my main objective. I love rewriting history.

The French are quite out of sorts about their new retirement age. At first, it was kind of cool to witness the strikes and protests, but now it is getting old, especially when it interferes with potential travel opportunities. Most buses and trains went on another strike on Tuesday, which extended to Wednesday, which extended to Thursday and then today. All of this for a 62-year retirement age? Vraiment? Katie, Alejandra, and I were thinking about a trip to Cinque Terre, Italy this weekend, but we weren't going to know until today which trains were going to be on strike tomorrow. We went down to the station and it looks like we'll be able to get there, and our tickets were super cheap! So, in a mere seven hours, I will be en train d'Italie (on my way to Italy)! I had never heard of Cinque Terre before, but I did a Google image search and was sold right away. We'll mostly be hiking through the hills - it's kind of like a national park that includes five beautiful cities along the sea. I think that easy weekend travels in Europe are definitely some of my favorite parts of this experience.

Nice/Antibes - Take 2

Of all the beautiful towns in the Côte d'Azur, why did they have to pick Cannes to establish the Collège? I would love to live in Antibes, or even Nice - both towns have such a different feel and it's like a breath of fresh air. Saturday, I took the train (by myself, yes, with no incidents) to Nice to meet Michelle, one of my friends from Hill-Murray and St. Ben's (my first RA!) who is staying with a family in Marseille for the year. It was strange, but great, to see someone from home who isn't a part of our group. It was a lovely, relaxing morning - we basically just walked around the city for four hours straight, exploring markets and shops. There was un manif (a protest) happening in Nice; they are still in an uproar about the retirement age. It was fascinating to see some protest action in a bigger town, but Marion later told me that you have to be very careful during a protest, because they often become violent. She and one of her friends were caught between a group of Arab protesters and the Nice police when she lived there. Michelle and I watched the protesters parade through the city, blaring music, waving flags, making speeches, and chanting. It was almost like the revolution all over again; it reminded me of the Do You Hear the People Sing? scene in Les Mis. There was also kind of a church theme to our day - we kept running into a new church everywhere we wandered, so we went inside them all. One was covered in beautiful white and red flower decorations inside (presumably for a wedding), and we sat in on a little bit of a baptism in another.

Around 2:00, Michelle had another rendez-vous, so I decided to go visit the Musée Matisse, as he is one of my favorite artists and he spent a great deal of time in Nice (he is even buried there, near the museum). The woman at the tourist office told me to take the bus, but I thought no, I'll just walk. Well, it turned out to be quite the hike (uphill, mind you) and there was no real direct route there. It was well worth it, though! This part of town must be where all the non-tourists go; there was a beautiful park in the middle of everything where tons of people and families were spending Saturday afternoon. Aside from a few of art museums, there was also a monastery and some ancient Roman ruins. Matisse is a refreshing artist to see after Picasso - his signature style is using colorful paper cutouts plastered together to create images, but this museum showed a lot of his earlier and less famous work. It is amazing how many things he tried before he developed and perfected his own style.

After walking for eight hours with no meals (which I am used to - I have been well-trained), I decided it was time to grab a panini and head home before my feet fell off. After a Skype date with my mom and dad, I was ready for bed and another early morning. Mickey and I decided to take a day of pure relaxation in Antibes on Sunday, just the two of us. We took the 9:00 bus again so we could make it to the market and spend a little more time there. First, though, we stopped for our mochas and pains aux chocolats. Then we got fresh raspberries and cheese from stands in the actual market. The raspberries were the BEST I have ever had in my life! You could get either one tray for 3 Euros or two trays for 5 Euros; I just wanted one and an adorable elderly French man split the cost with me so I saved 50 cents. He was so excited about it - he kissed my cheek, asked me where I was from, threw his hands in the air, and yelled, "America? I LOVE AMERICANS!" He completely made my day.

We then ventured down by the harbor to see a huge Picasso sculpture and the yachts, and to take some pictures by the sea. The coastline is both rocky and sandy, so it was a perfect place to sit and relax. I brought the broken borrowed flute that I got from Caroline, and we took some potential recital pictures! Mickey is my new favorite photographer. To the left is one of the reject pictures, and I have several others to choose from for the posters and programs! I am not going to go outside without a coat in the middle of January at St. Ben's for pictures this year - no way. Not when I have the beach in the south of France!

After our picture fun, we wandered some more through the old section of Antibes before finding a café for lunch. I finally got to try une salade niçoise, which is a salad specialty of the French Riviera (specifically, Nice, but I figured I was close enough). It was delicious! Afterwards, we couldn't find a bus stop with the correct bus line going in the correct direction in Antibes, so we had to walk all the way to Juan-les-Pins again to find it.

That's it for last weekend's traveling update! On to life's random tidbits:

I had no flute lesson this week because my flute is still MIA (in the black hole vacuum of the luthier - repair person), but I still returned to the Conservatoire to bother them about my internship. It's interesting - in the U.S., things get done much faster if you call or email, but in France, it is much more efficient (and common) to travel and sit down to talk to someone in person. They directed me to the music professor who agreed to work with me, and she is amazing! Her name is Régine, and she teaches actual music theory classes. I figured I can go sit in and help her with six classes per week (three on Monday nights and three on Tuesday nights). She teaches seven- and eight-year-olds, high-schoolers, and adults each night. I even got to go to her youngest class this Tuesday while I was there - it was adorable! What was most surprising was that it was almost identical to the elementary school classrooms I observed in the U.S. last year: The teaching strategies, the things the students had trouble with, everything. I think I'm really going to love it there! This also means that on Tuesdays, will be in class for twelve and a half straight hours - music ed majors really can't escape the crazy schedules, can we?

Also, I found a West Wing friend here! Her name is Rachel and she is perhaps nearly as obsessed as I am! We will definitely be having marathons in the near future. I brought a few random DVDs with me (from all different seasons, but I've been stuck on season two lately for some reason...) and she has the full seasons five, six, and seven. If we can find some of the earlier seasons online, I think we'll be set! As we were talking/squealing/pretending the West Wing was real during our conversation earlier this evening, McGhee joined in on our conversation and told us that she and Allison Janney have the same agent and they actually know each other. If Rachel and I visit her in New York, McGhee said she will introduce us! I don't know when that's going to happen, but if I ever find myself in New York in the next few years, I am definitely taking her up on that.

I finally got everything set for my trip to the Loire Valley this weekend! There are four of us going together. It will be so great to get to a different area of the country so rich in history! Another random side note: Marion told me yesterday night that her grandfather owns a small castle in the Loire; the French name literally translates into "The Ass of Hell". So I guess when people ask where he lives, he has quite the answer.

Tomorrow, we have our appointment in Nice for the immigration paperwork and TB scans. I don't know if I mentioned this already, but Mickey and I had this great idea to make T-shirts that say "Got TB?" on the front and "I do!" on the back. Beth said no, we shouldn't count on the immigration officers having our sense of humor. Can't understand why not...