Nice, you are oh so nice

I tried forever to think of a clever title for this post. Above is all I could come up with. Regardless, Nice is beautiful.

About fourteen other students from my marketing group traveled to southeast France this weekend. We arrived on Thursday afternoon and made our way to the hostel. The hostel – Villa St. Exupery – was absolutely fantastic. Now, I’m no hostel connoisseur, but out of the three I have stayed at thus far, this one takes the cake by a long shot. Free internet, rooms with connecting bathrooms with detachable showerheads, free breakfast (cereal for the first time since I’ve been home!), and the view:

I was in a 6 bed room with Joy and Frances (both from my program) and three other girls from Canada. The group shortly went out for dinner thereafter. We traveled down to Old Town Nice. This is the historic part of town near the coast. Small winding alleys are home to cute restaurant vendors and small boutiques.

The hostel recommended a bar called Wayne’s to us. It was a famous tourist bar that spoke English. We hopped in after dinner. It was like this English hiatus in the middle of South France. English speaking patrons and bartenders. Even burgers and fries. We went back to hang out at the hostel.

The next morning, we decided it was a beach day. We took the complimentary hostel shuttle (another perk) down to the tram station that would take us back down to Old Town near the beach. On the car ride from the hostel to the tram, I had a classic vacation moment: the sky was clear, music was blarring in the car piled with kids, and wind blowing through my hair. It felt great to be out of a crowded city. A tram ride later, we said hello to the gorgeous beach.

Frances, Joy, me, and Rachel:

We stayed there beach for several hours. I forgot my suntan lotion and got a little burned. It’s about the first time I have got some decent sun in the past two years (not exaggerating). But forget about my skin, it was everyone else’s scantily clad bodies that stole the show. Check out this sister:

I don't think commentary is necessary. And can you find Mr. Hotstuff?

In between my fill of speedo Sams and topless Tammies, I walked along the Promenade de Anglais to find Fenocchio – a famous gelato shop in Nice that serves its 96 flavors to patrons daily. I tried tiramisu and vanilla. You could see the black vanilla specs in it. qualiTAY.

Later that night we found a small restaurant in Old Town. Sidenote: basically, this blog is revolving into what I eat during my summer instead of where I am going. Salivating? Possibly. Boring? Hopefully not. I decided I needed to take advantage of all the fresh seafood in Nice. I ordered Spaghetti Pescatore (homage to mom) with fresh mussels and grilled calamari in a pesto/marinara sauce. We went back Wayne’s were we met up with our new friends from Pittsburg – Drew and Elizabeth. Drew just finished his Spring semester abroad in Dubai and Elizabeth is studying in Florence in July. We also met two other Canadian girls – Emily and Becca from Ontario. They were on their 7^th week of backpacking around Europe. The soccer World Cup is going on in Europe right now. The French v. Holland game was on at Wayne's. We took pleasure in pitching in our participatory yells throughout the game, but the REAL fun started when the live music commenced. They played the Rolling Stones, Lynyrd Skynard, and other music that reminded me of my dad. Naturally, a dance party ensued.

Gabby, me, Joy, and Frances at Wayne's (World):

Joy was giving complimentary piggybacks that evening:

Back at the hostel that night, we met three different groups of UT grads. Crazy, really. Hook ‘em. France, Joy, and I went back to the room to find a new set of roommates – Mike, Nigel, and Gabrielle from Singapore.

The next morning we headed off to Monaco with our new Canadian and Pittsburgian friends from the night before. We were also joined by Tim from Tanzmania and three University of Illinois grads who were off traveling before starting consulting gigs in Chicago in August. We took a bus ride along the coast and stopped at a small little town called Eze Village. The hostel suggested we climb up to the top of the hill for a fantastic view and a coffee. I ended up ordering the cheapest thing on the menu – a 6.50 euro hot chocolate. That’s at $10 cup of warm milk and chocolate syrup. That aside, the view was well worth it:

More Eze Village:

The gang traveled on to Monaco. Group shot in front of Monte Carlo is below. Tanzmanian Tim was apparently preoccupied:

We walked into the foyer of the Monte Carlo casino, but you had to pay 10 euro just to get into the actually playing room. The guys went in, and the girls stayed outside to drool over the ostentatious display of ridiculous wealth – the cars. Chase, Frances, Joy, and I went into a smaller casino later on. I bet one euro and lost. Big spender.

We walked around the town and grabbed lunch while we admired the yachts.

Chase ‘Linen Pants’ Lancarte posing with his yacht.

Frances and I with our nutella and banana crepe.

We took another picturesque drive back to Nice. Sunday morning we left the hostel before 7am to catch our flight.

Adieu, Nice. It was a fantastic weekend.

quasimodo's stomping grounds (and opera hopes)

Second week of school: done.

We do not have school Thursday or Friday of this week. Yeah for a three day school-week. ESCP is a great facility (and offers very very cheap food), but I wish we had more interaction with the French students. Given it's summer, attendance is lower than normal, but I wish we didn't feel so isolated. I realize that our courses are taught in different languages, so I cannot possibly expect to be in actual class with them. We are only in the same room as the other students during lunch. It is hard to walk up to a group of French students and start a conversation when the extent of your French vocabulary pretty much consists of standard greetings and "parlez-vous anglais?" I should probably work on that.

On Monday, many of students on my program went to Notre Dame. While I had already visited the cathedral, I had not climbed up to the towers. We managed to conquer the dizzy, staircase up 400 steps to the top. We were greeted by stoic gargoyles keeping watch over the city:


Quasimodo's door and his bell. We did not see him. He must be on vacation.

Athough we didn't spot the hunchback, we did see Esmereldas. Handfuls of gypsies were walking around the entrance of Notre Dame and asking if anyone spoke English. If you say yes, they hand you a piece of paper summarizing their depressing (but hardly believable) situation and then beg for money. I think I prefer the Disney Esmerelda.


Wednesday evening, our program liaison took us to the new Opera House. We were planning on buying tickets to Les Capulets et les Montaigus - a take on Romeo and Juliet. There was some confusion in how early our group should arrive at the Opera. Our liaison had even tried to buy tickets last week, but she was told to come an hour before show time. We arrived an hour before only to be told that all the tickets (in our price range) were sold out. I'll try to go to another show before I leave. All dressed up, we decided to go out to dinner. I suggested we go to the St. Germain area. We found a small whole in the wall.

Our Host/Waiter: "Are you from America?"
Us: "Yes"
Host/Waiter: "Where in America?"
Us: "Texas"
Host/Waiter: "Ohhhhh, TEXASSSSSSS" (while flashing the Hook 'em Horns sign)

Even the Parisians know about us. I decided to order two French classics: French Onion soup and Beef Bourguignon.

Naomi, Brittney, Nora, Paola and yours truly after dinner:


I am leaving for Nice (pronounced 'Nees', not like the adjective) today. It is in southeast France and near Monaco. Check back in for Mediterranean shenanigans.

and bob's your uncle

Well the predicted forecast from my last post was correct: many redcoats, many mouths denied of braces, and too many flags to count.

This past weekend, I traveled to London with four other girls on my program. It is interesting to see the different dynamic across the major international epicenters. London and Paris are two very distinct cities. Paris is heels and scarves. London is canvas flats and bright leggings. London is fish and chips and beer. Paris is cheese and soufflés and champagne.

It was relieving to be surrounded by people who spoke English (and who jaywalk, too....yes).


We went straight from campus on Friday afternoon to Gare du Nord. We rode on the Eurostar – the train that goes under the English Channel to London. You could feel the temperature drop when we were underwater. We arrived in London after a 2hr15min ride. We quickly found a cheap café and bought our three day Tube (the London subway) pass. Mind you, the British Pound (GBP) to US Dollar conversion rate is current at 1:2. As a result, everything on our trip really cost double the listed price when converting back to Uncle Sam’s currency.

We quickly rode the Tube to our Hostel on the west side of London, near Hyde Park. The hostel was, overall, clean and better than expected. Bathrooms were a bit shady or "dodgy" as the Brits say, but nonetheless, it was a nice place to crash. We literally threw our luggage down and ran out again to catch the Tube back to central London to make our reservation for the Ice Bar at 11pm. The (Absolut) Ice Bar is a subzero bar made of, you guessed it, ice. The walls, the bar itself, and even the glasses were all ice. Our charge of 15 GBP each granted us entrance to the bar, one drink, and our thermal cape and mittens.

Channeling an eskimo:

The next morning we ventured to Buckingham Palace to see the Changing of the Guards. By chance, we were able to watch the practice run for the Queen’s Birthday processional that will take place next weekend. Serendipity! Redcoats on horseback and on foot paraded down the main street towards Buckingham Palace.

Next, we wanted to find the guards we could actually take pictures with. One of the girls was told that we needed to wait until an hour and half after the parade ended. Unidentified source said to go to King James Palace to find the guards. We decided to take along walk to see Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament until then.

Then onto Westminster Abbey. Royal coronations and burials take place in this Gothic church. Princess Diana’s funeral was also held here:

We traveled over to King James’ Palace around an hour and half after the parade ended. No guards. We asked someone else who then suggested going to the St. Clarence House. No guards. We decided to try again the next day.

Stomachs rumbling, we popped into a store to ask for a fish and chips recommendation. We were given directions to a restaurant, but just our luck, it had closed. The restaurant sign and menu remained, but the former store front was now a construction site. We continued searching for fish and chips. Finally, we found a restaurant and made a pretty penny/pound for a less than stellar inaugural fish and chips experience. I was glad to try have tried it, but for my first meal that consisted of fried food (besides calamari) in I don’t know how long, the staple British dish was subpar. Oh well. Life goes on.

We came across a small market and looked around. One of the vendor sold stamps. I saw family crests and looked to see if they had mine. Sure enough, they had a stamp with the Murray crest and our name (even though my last name isn’t English…it’s Scottish). The vendors tried to pitch a good sales presentation by showing me how to emboss imprint and so forth on a sample piece of paper. Intrigued, I asked how much it was. After being told it was 15 GBP, I decided the sample would suffice. Unfortunately, the vendor asked for the sample back. No sale. No sample.

Buckingham Palace Round 2. No guards and the Palace was apparently closed to tourists through the end of summer. My lack of Buckingham Palace experience aside, what are you thinking, British government? Closed during the peak tourist season? You might want to put some simple business strategies in place.

We then crossed the Thames River and headed over to St. Paul’s Cathedral around 6pm. The church was absolutely gorgeous. Just our luck, it was closed. We decided to come back for mass the following morning and went off to Ye Olde London – a small pub nearby.

Later we walked over to the Tower Bridge which was lit beautifully against the dark blue sky:

Sunday we woke up early, grabbed breakfast, and headed to St. Paul's for the 10:15am mass. Because it was a day of worship, the church did not allow pictures to be taken inside. Sitting in that cathedral during mass was well worth our inability to snap photos, though. The singing of the twenty-man choir was absolutely beautiful. The architecture and detail were overwhelming. Fun fact: Princess Diana and Prince Charles were married here.

After mass we walked around the church's rose garden:

After St. Paul's we tried to find the guards again. After no success, we headed to Hyde Park. This is a gorgeous park in central London. We stopped to smell the roses (and other flowers):

After Hyde Park we decided to reward ourselves after touring and eating around London so cheaply. We had a great meal at Bella Italia in Oxford Circus. This area is surrounded by designer stores - Armani, Alexander McQueen, Ted Baker, etc - and other stores like Banana Republic, H&M, and Apple. I saw some great window displays. I even managed to buy at 5pound pair of shorts!

Despite the several hiccups in our weekend, London was great. But don't get jealous, Paris. You still beat out the Brits any day.

Pearls in Paris

For those of you who don't know, I wear pearl earrings everyday. Whether I'm wearing a black dress or t-shirt, it's guaranteed that I'll be wearing pearls. As a result, my roommates (shout out to 907) call me Pearls. The only reason I bring this up is because "Pearls in Paris" is just some fun alliteration (plus common r's, a's, and s's, too).

We just completed our fourth day at ESCP-EAP. Classes are going pretty good. Nothing too taxing. School gets in the way of Paris anyway.

Yesterday, the marketing program students were treated to a generous welcome lunch from ESCP-EAP. We were served a three course meal (free, too!). After class dismissed, myself and three other girls decided to venture out to the Latin Quarter. We found a nice café near the Luxembourg Gardens and split a bottle of wine. Later on, I tried a Nutella crepe – delicious. We walked around the gardens and saw the original (and smaller) Statue of Liberty. Quick history: the lady that resides in New York Harbor was a gift to the US from France in 1886.

Later on we, by chance, came across the site of Princess Diana’s fatal crash. Her car hit one of the columns in this tunnel…a bit surreal:

In front of the Eiffel:

There is also an accounting program from UT who is participating in a program in Paris, too. The majority of the students from both programs went on a boat tour down the Seine River. There were some rowdy groups of German, Spanish, and Italian pubescent teens on the tour. One of the Spanish girls (who could not be more than 13) sat smoking behind me. Seriously?

Lay off the puffer, hun.

The top right picture is Invalides. Napoleon is buried here.

Notre Dame and one of the hundreds of couples along the Seine.

After the tour, our UT group some how merged with an obnoxious group of kids (probably fresh high school graduates) from New Jersey. They were fully exercising the 18 legal drinking age here. It was embarrassing to be associated with the loud, obnoxious Americans the French dislike. Luckily, we were separated from them in some metro chaos. Free from “USA, USA” shouting, bottle-cradling Jersey kids, about fifteen students from my marketing class headed back to the Latin Quarter. We all piled into a bar – St. George or something… - with green lights flashing everywhere. We were greeted by waitresses in masks and by the sounds of Rihanna playing in the background. We all ordered the cheapest drink available. Mine was called TNT, and the waitress lit it on fire. It burnt (well, not literally) and tasted like cinnamon Mike and Ikes (which I’m not fond of), but at least I can say I tried a drink with flames.

We opted to walk back to the residence. What we estimated to be a 20 minute walk turned into a 50 minute pilgrimage back the residence. But hey, we 1) saved money that would have otherwise gone to a cab and 2) burned some extra calories.

This week is our only week to have class on Friday. We will wrap up a Negotiations workshop with a consultant from the Netherlands tomorrow. Then, I’m off to the land of red coats, bad teeth, and union jack.

LONDONtown.

after all Dear, this is France

Finally, a legitimate post. My subsequent posts will most likely not be this lengthy. So here goes the first week of my adventure:

May 25-26
I flew out of Houston on Sunday afternoon. My whole family took me to the airport, and I actually ran into Ellen and Laura when I was walking around the terminal trying to find my gate. Ellen is my big sis from drill team who just graduated from UT. Laura also went to high school with me and was on my Two by Two Committee up at UT. They are both here in Europe with a big Texas senior trip for three weeks. I flew British Airways which had fantastic service. Not that I am a frequent flyer, but the service on the flight was unlike any domestic line I had ever flown (weird past tense spelling) on. I could not sleep on the plane. Not sure if it was nerves, excitement, or the baby four rows up that literally (not exaggerating) cried for about six of the nine hours of the flight’s duration. I arrived at Heathrow airport in London. My connecting flight to Paris was delayed for an hour, and I arrived at Charles de Gaulle around 2pm in the afternoon.

I took a train from Charles de Gaulle to Gare du Nord – the Grand Central Station of Paris, of sorts. After I managed to man-handle my luggage on the train, I was not able to lift my huge suitcase on the racks above the seats. I set my suitcase on the seat next to me, and all was well until the train began to fill up. Two elderly women stepped on board. One sat across the aisle from me and the other eyed the seat next to me that was occupied by my Samsonite. She began, with a disgusted tone, speaking to me in French and pointing her finger at my suitcase and then up to the racks. I replied in English and said, “I am sorry ma’am. I cannot lift it. It is too heavy” (hand gestures and facial expression included in hopes that she would understand that). She shook her head and began mumbling to her train companion. I could not understand it, but I am sure it was something about disrespectful youth these days. I arrived at Gare du Nord and, remembering my oh so fun experience with luggage and subway stairs from last summer, opted to hail a cab.

I arrived at my youth hostel – de L’Artagnan around 4pm. My roommates arrived later; they were two Australian older women who were in Paris on their 8 week trek across North Africa, Europe, and the US.

May 27
Next morning rolled around, and my first task was to find the nearest ATM station. I ended up getting lost and asked a traffic controller for help. He directed me through Pere Lachaise – a gigantic cemetery whose plots are home to the likes of Edith Piaf and Oscar Wilde. I ended up getting lost in this HUGE cemetery. Scared, I turned around the other way and managed to find the ATM another via another route. The first day was very cold and rainy, so I cooped myself up in a small café near the Eiffel Tower for most of the afternoon.

My sandwich and café noir:


Oddly, throughout the day, I kept thinking of what I wanted to say in Spanish. I don’t know any French, but I did take Spanish from the 7th grade through my freshman year in college. Luckily, I was able to retain a good amount of my vocabulary. Verb conjugations are a bit different….but nonetheless, I was constantly thinking of Spanish just because I was in a foreign country. Later on, I then went to the manicured Luxembourg Gardens and walked around the Latin Quarter.


The first real day in the city was a bit overwhelming. After dealing with jetlag, getting lost in the metro system, and desperately searching for internet access, I called it a day and looked forward to seeing Maggie and her mom the following evening.

May 28
The next morning I went to Notre Dame. The Gothic architecture was beautiful. I had planned to meet Maggie and her mom for dinner later that night at a restaurant nearby, Le Vieux Bistro, upon a recommendation from Ms. Gayle. The spot had closed! Word is we missed out on a salivating plate of beef bourguignon.


I then took the metro to Jardin de Tuilleres. This garden connects the Louvre to the east end of the Champs Elysees. Starting from the Louvre, I walked down the garden and stopped to get my first crepe with fraise (strawberry) jam:


I walked down the Champs Elysees among business men, fashionistas, and camera-wearing, map-clenching tourists like myself down to the Arc de Triomphe. Six streets converge here; making it even more chaotic, there are no lane lines! It’s a free for all with enough horns to make it sound like an orchestra was going on.


I later ventured southeast to the St. Germaine area. My Aunt Lynda and Aunt Karla recommended this young and artsy district. It is my favorite area in Paris thus far. It is full of quaint cafes, hole-in-the-wall bistros, flower vendors, and stylish boutiques. The area has supposed undergone substantial gentrification within the last several years, but the area is still adorable and cozy.


I met up with Maggie and her mom at Notre Dame around 8pm at Notre Dame. I was SO happy to see her. The last time I saw her was mid December of last her. We did about five consecutive hugs! With dinner plans changed, we walked to the St. Germaine area and we ate at the cute restaurant in the picture above with all the potted plants hanging on the storefront.


May 29
The next day, I met up with Maggie and Momma Bang at the Eiffel Tower. We went up to the 2nd level and saw the fantastic Parisian panorama. Mind you, I did not bring a hair dryer to Paris. I'm going all naturale.


After the Eiffel Tower, we had lunch near the Champs Elysees. I tasted foie gras for the first time. Fun story: At the end of the meal, I tried to ask the waiter where the bathroom was in French. Instead of the proper “toilette”, I said “salle de bain.” I thought these two were synonyms, like English. In English, a bathroom doesn’t always mean there is a bath tub or a shower in the room; apparently, in French it does. The waiter was confused by what I was saying, so I wrote “salle de bain” on a napkin. He said, “no, no, no....that is like…” and he proceeded to write “douche” on the napkin. Which means shower in French, but obviously has a different meaning in the US. All three of us burst with laughter. Lost in translation.

Later we went to the Malais district near the hotel Maggie and her mom where staying at. The area had many trendy boutiques, bars, and restaurants. Some of these stores had great design. Here are some pictures from Autour du Monde Home and a spirits store named Caviste:


Still in the Malais district, we found a great bar and ordered these fantastic drinks. It was my first mojito, and it was quite enjoyable. Fresh limes, strawberries, and healthy mint leaves swam about in the glass, too. Delicious!


Hours passed and then came dinner at Le Fumoir around 9:30pm. Thank you, Katie Brehm. The recommendation was fantastic. We started off dinner with Mrs. Bang’s favorite champagne: Veuve Clicquot Rose. I tried rabbit for the first time. It was fantastic. Great food, great companaions, and great conversation. Mrs. Bang told the waiter it was Maggie’s 21st birthday:


Stuffed, we walked out of the restaurant around midnight. We tried for about forty five minutes to find a cab. With no success, we all went back to Maggie’s hotel room and crammed into their 8x8 hotel room. Slumber partay.

May 30
The next day we walked around the main shopping district in Paris. We had a little wine and cheese party back in Maggie’s hotel room. We went to Louvre (free for students of Fridays!) and tried to meet up with Ellen and Laura who were in Paris, too. Unfortunately, internet and communication issues suggested otherwise. We saw the Mona Lisa; she had her own wall. Of course, we didn’t get to see all of the Louvre. The museum is supposedly 8 miles long and is the biggest in the world.


Sorry, Mona. The green spot is a reflection of an exit light…


Maggie and Mrs. Bang outside the Louvre:


Beautiful sunset:


We found a cute restaurant nearby and had delicious salads and the best delicious chocolate mousse I have tasted. After dinner, I said bye to Maggie and her mom. They were leaving to go back to the States the following morning. I was so happy to have seen Maggie after five months and so thankful for Mrs. Bang’s generosity (long live the VEUVE, I say). What a great city to meet up in. I am looking forward to many cooking/dinner parties with Maggie next fall!

Stay tuned...

Kristin

patience is a virtue

...and one that I obviously need to master. Computer issues continue here in Paris. I am hoping to have a charged laptop and a free internet connection by Monday/Tuesday. HOPING is the key verb.