Granada is a beautiful city

I don´t have much to say about the people of Granada that I´ve met so far, or the hostel I´m staying in, but I can say that this is a beautiful city.
After a little siesta, a girl from England offered to show me around the Albaicin (the old moorish quarter of the city, filled with little white stucco houses and arabic tea shops) We ended up in plaza St Nicolas which has a fantastic view of the Alhambra against the Sierra Nevada mountains. It was close to dusk when we entered the square and even though the sun wasn't setting quite yet, the Alhambra looked painted in gold. And for the first time on my trip so far, I was breathtaken.

I took these pictures when I went back up to plaza St. Nicholas the next day with my camera. They don´t do it justice though, so check the link below for the cool view.

http://www.andalucia.com/cities/granada.htm

The overnight train to Granada

At the last minute on Tuesday morning, I decided to take an overnight train into Granada. I had wanted to see the south of Spain and I more-or-less picked Granada over Sevilla and Valencia because I liked the pictures.
The night train was actually kind of fun. I boarded at 9:30 pm (21:30) in Barcelona and arrived in Granada at 8:30 the next morning. I was in a couchette with two girls from Japan who thought I was 21 years old ;) One of the girls wore a medical mask around the train, which sort of made me laugh inside, but they were both very quiet and fell asleep early. The ride itself was pretty relaxing, and the motion of the train put me to sleep quickly too.
The conductor woke us up about 45 minutes before the station, so I had time to wash my face and pack my things. When I looked out the window of the train, the sun was just coming up over the mountains, and what I saw made my heart skip a beat...it was sooo beautiful! Craggy green mountains dotted with little white farmhouses, cypress and olive trees. The fact that I was on a train made it all the more romantic. I decided then that even if I didn´t like Granada, my 11 hour train ride was worth it just to see the sun rise over these mountains.
I realized then that this was my Louvre.

The next day

Well, there's not much to write about today. I woke up early for breakfast, I wore my sunglasses inside because the light gave me a headache (everything gave me a headache actually)...I promised myself I'd never do that to myself again, then I went back to sleep until 5:00 (17:00).
Miha, who is a chef back in Ireland, made us dinner (which was really really good, despite the state of my stomache). Then we went for coffee at the tapas bar we'd been to the night before, lol. The waiters laughed at us when we came in, they must have remembered our silly drunken antics.
Everyone was leaving the next day, Karin had to get up at 6 the next morning to catch a flight back to Holland, some of us were still hungover, so it was a pretty quiet night. I got a second wind at around 11:00 (23:00) and Karin and I, who ended up being dormates that night, stayed up talking till she had to wake up anyway, and I went to sleep.
Tomorrow I'll get around to doing some sightseeing...

Ohhh, Grappa

Today, James, Karin, Miha and I went to Park Gruell for the day to see the Gaudi sculptures. In the evening James, Miha and I went out for dinner, got really bad service and uncooked chicken. To make up for it, the owner gave us a round of Grappa shots and after that everything is a little hazy. As most know, I'm really not usually that big a drinker. I know that we'd been drinking Sangria all night and we ordered another shot of Grappa. Then Karin and the Canadians met up with us and I ordered everyone a shot of Grappa. I'm not sure after that, but I hear that pictures are worth a thousand words. We went to a tapas bar near the hostel and apparantly Miha and I were Salsa dancing there...and I know I felt ill, to put it mildly...luckily I was with a group of good people (I knew that beforehand anyway)...and they got me safe and sound back to the hostel.
So there you have it, I'll never drink Grappa again...but hey, I couldn't go on a Eurotrip without at least one story like this...lol.

The Reggae party

While I have some time, I wanted to go back and fill everyone in about my time in Barcelona. So this is posted waaaay after the fact. Barcelona was such a good time...I was so busy doing that I just didn't have time to write.

A big group of us from the hostel decided to go to a Reggae party that Anna from Australia had heard about. We left early to have some drinks on the patio first, but we ran into the Reggae guys on the way and they invited us back to their place for a couple drinks.
Well, it turns out that their place was actually a converted store front down a small alley in the Barri Grotic. So, imagine 10 or so naive hostellers who barely know each other going into this place. As you can see from the picture, the walls were water stained concrete and there was a tent (yes a tent) in the middle of the room that served as a bedroom...and yes that is a blue umbrella perched on top of the tent (thanks for the pic Miha, I would never have been able to describe this!).



We all sort of looked at each other like we were entering into the set of "Hostel 2: Rasta Revenge!", but as it turns out, our hosts were incredibly kind. They went out and bought fruit and drinks for us. One of the guys (in the camo shirt and straw hat), who we only knew as Rastaman, talked to us Canadians about how much he loved the winter and snow. He even showed us a picture of himself on a ski slope somewhere in Canada, which was pretty cool except that he was wearing a giant spiderman mask in the picture...
And the woman was an artisan (you can just barely see her in the picture, sitting beside Karin in the red shirt), she made leather crafts and fabric/leather masks...she proudly showed us everything that she made and they were beautiful and unique. Karin, bless her cotton socks, bought one of the masks.


I'd like to say that I can roll with the punches, but despite our hosts being so generous, I just couldn't get over the randomness of the whole situation. I wasn't alone though, we only stayed about 20 minutes, then all at the same time there was a collectively unspoken decision that it was time to go...and we all went to a patio cafe in Piazza Nuova for some Sangria and Beer.

Salsa! (and the amazing shrinking group)

Me, Miha, and Karin. Yes, this picture was taken

at the point in the night when I decide it's a good

idea to make kissy faces into the camera.

Tonight our group of 9 went out for some Salsa dancing at a little bar called Mohito. When we got there, we found out that there was a ten euro cover charge and the Salsa dancing would end in only an hour...Most of us were game anyway, but Dan and Toshi decided to head back to the hostel...leaving us with only 7 partiers, but at least...
...we still had James, who does some competitive salsa dancing and kept us girls on our toes. We danced like crazy for that hour, and even Miha (who claimed he couldn't dance) was cutting a rug with the best of them. Halfway through we realized we'd lost Texas (we forgot his name so we just called him Texas)...oh well, we were down to 6, so...
...we grabbed a couple of taxis and off we went to Porto Olympico, which was sketchy at best but had some great music. We ignored the girls who out-hooched even the best Canadian hoochy-mamas and we danced until we couldn't dance anymore. When it was time to leave, we looked around for Miha and Martin...nowhere to be found! It was just Karin, James, Liz and I left over, so we were down to 4! We waited and looked for twenty minutes before...
...deciding to get a taxi and head back to the hostel, we'd have to find out were the rest went in the morning.

Note: In the morning we did a head-count and everyone was safe and sound.

*posted March 1, 2007

Aussie's to lead the party

Of course, my first night out in Barcelona was with a couple of Aussie's...I was warned that they always lead the party ;)
I went into some cool little bars with Liz and James, just to have a couple of drinks and chill out. The first bar seemed to be a diner that turned into a local hangout at night. The second bar was a hotspot that we happened on while walking home through the streets of the Barri Grotic. It looked like it hadn't had a facelift in a while...with old wood panelling, crackled faded mirrors, and shelves of ancient liquor bottles...but the crowd was definitely young and hip.
On the way home, we passed by a few prostitutes (some even walking with their johns.) Barcelona has a problem with prostitution but I got the feeling that they wouldn't bother us unless we bothered them.

Barcelona

I'm going to wrap up my five days in Barcelona with one or two posts...not because I didn't like it, but because I liked it too much to keep track of everything in my journal!

• I had a great time at HelloBCN hostel, the staff were great and friendly, the internet was free, and they had hairdryers...yes!


• Spanish men are very handsome...can it be true that there are so many good looking guys here in Barcelona? Wow...but, a lot of the fashionable youth are sporting some odd clothing, and mullets are definitely out in full force here...


• I didn't see many big tourists sites...but I did a lot of walking around the Bario Grotico (sp?), along Port Vell, hanging out in little parks etc.
  One of the only touristy places I did go see was Park Guell with some friends from the hostel. It was a very cool place (pictures soon!) I'm sorry Candace, I didn't see Sagrata Famillia :( I'm hoping to on the way back though...


• On my second day in Barcelona, there was an accident at the hostel (not involving me, don't worry!) While everything was getting sorted out, I met some great friends that I ended up hanging out with a lot. Will do a seperate post about the crazy evenings!


• I met my first fellow Canadians!


• By the end of my stay I felt like I knew my area really well. I was well versed in riding the metro and could walk around mostly without a map (although I did get lost a number of times in the side streets of the Barri Grotic).
  

Free internet

Free internet in the Spain hostel, I´ll try my best to get all caught up. I have lot´s more to share :)

Barcelona

I got safe and sound into Barcelona after a 4 hour train ride...I sat with a family of four from Germany. The oldest boy spent the entire time colouring without saying a word, the youngest spent the entire time flirting with me ;) He looked like a characeture: big head, blond hair, huge eyes, and little chubby body. It was an entertaining trip. The mother spoke german to her kids, spanish to the conductor, french to another passenger, and english to me...I'm amazed by how many languages most Europeans know (except the french ;)), it puts me to shame.

*posted March 1, 2007

Lyon Day 3

I ran some errands today...went to reserve my train tickets for Barcelona, booked my next hostel, bought a couple of books. I did a lot of shopping, but didn't buy any jeans...I need new jeans.
Day 3 and still no shower yet, I can't bear the thought of getting into that shower.
I just read that Lyon is the gastronomic capital of France, but by the time I read that it was too late at night to eat out. That's too bad.
I had a pretty early night, and did some yoga to relax. I always forget how good yoga feels...I went right to sleep afterwards.

The (little) boys of France

I've done a lot of sitting in parks, it's actually one of my favorite things to do in France. I love people watching, and it seems that people here love to spend time in their parks. Considering that it's only a day in the park everyone is very stylish, especially the children (I've seen some of the coolest kids clothing stores here.)
Anyway, the kids here seem very curious about me...little one year olds toddle up to me as I'm sitting on my bench...they show me the leaf they have in their hands, or point to a bird and smile, or just stare at me a bit until their parents call them back. The slightly older boys especially seem to take an interest in me (they start young!)...they'll do tricks like hitting rocks with sticks or cartwheels (seriously) and I'll applaud them before they go running off to find their mum.
It's all too cute.

*published March 1, 2007

Something I can´t understand...

I get asked out a lot in France...at least once a day and not just by crazy guys off the street (although that happens a lot too). So, I´m trying to understand why. It´s not that I don´t think I´m worthy of all this attention, but it didn´t happen a whole lot back in Canada and I haven´t changed that much since I´ve left. So I have a couple of theories...

• I look different from people here. I didn´t realize how different I would look, but my pinky toned skin and golden blonde hair really stand out from the olive toned brunettes here. And apparantly I have a cute Canadian accent.
  
• Being a traveller must make me seem vulnerable and therefor easier to approach?
  
• I smile a lot (because I can´t speak the language.)
  

This morning at breakfast, the server at the hostel asked me out for coffee, to which I said ´perhaps later´. Then I went upstairs, got dressed and put my hair in braids. When I got down, he asked me out again and asked me why I hadn´t been at breakfast, so he didn´t recognize me to know that he´d just asked me out an hour ago! It was pretty funny, I just shook my head and walked away ;)

*posted Feb 26, 2007

The farmer´s market

After the band on the bridge, I was feeling much more cheerful about Lyon. I decided to go for a walk through the farmer´s market along the Saone. It was really a culinary inspiration...everything was set up so beautifully and everything was so cheap! I bought 6 eggs, a big bowl of salad mixings, a big bowl of delicious cherrie tomatoes, a jar of honey, and some fruit for under 10€. It was just so tastey and good. Pictures to come when I get access to a usb port.

* posted on Feb 26, 2007

Krapo Lyon

This morning I was sitting on a bench by the Saone in Lyon feeling lonely and sorry for myself. Pathetic, yes, but I missed Paris and was starting to regret leaving early to come to Lyon where nothing seemed to be happening.
So, I was sitting on a bench, like I said feeling sorry for myself, when in the distance I heard what sounded like a marching band. I followed the sound to one of the bridges where I found Krapo, this really great band that seems to busk around France.
As you can see from the video, they get really into it and they drew a huge crowd on the bridge.
Anyway, here they´re playing Black Eyed Peas ¨Let's get it started", they mixed it up between blues, polkas?, and pop tunes (When I left they were playing Toxic by Britney Spears).
Oh, and if you go to their picture page http://krapolyon.free.fr/yeux.html, you can see that they put my video up on their website :D

In the morning light...

Shower at the hostel, no wonder I didn't take a shower for three days!

Lyon, in the morning, is not such a scary place after all (silly me)...it's a bit quiet and slow-moving compared to Paris. Still, I'd rather not ride the metro after 11 again.
If I was to review the hostel in Lyon, it wouldn't fair too well. I suppose I was spoiled at MIJE in Paris. This place is dingy and dirty, the shower is mouldy and smells so bad that I couldn't bring myself to take a shower (no matter how much I wanted one). Last night when I arrived, I waited about an hour to get checked in because the computer system had crashed.
On the plus side, the breakfast is decent and it seems pretty secure...for 16 euro a night, that's all I can really expect. Besides, there are no other hostels in Lyon.

In Lyon

Getting to the hostel from the train station was an ordeal. I arrived at around 11:00 pm to a nearly deserted train station. While I was looking at the really unhelpful metro map on the street, some scary guy came up and started talking to me in french...I said ¨je ne parle pas français¨ and walked quickly back into the train station. Finally, I found an open information booth in the train station where someone spoke a semblance of english and gave me a metro map with directions.
Because it was Saturday night, there was a whole cast of unsavory characters on the metro. I was starting to think that my family would be right to worry about me tonight. And how would I find the hostel in the dark? What kind of neighborhood is it in? Would the guy in the seat across from me (who hasn´t stopped staring at me since I got on) follow me off the train? Is my 'tough and confident, chin up, don´t think you can mess with me´ look even working? Or do I look scared and naive and an easy target.
On the funicular, I asked the only two nice looking women in the whole place for help with directions and they walked with me to within a block of my hostel, which was nice of them.
In the end, it wasn´t so bad I suppose...I got back to the hostel, which, while dingy, seemed safe enough...and ít´s a humbling experience, learning to put your trust in (and ask favors of) complete strangers. And I´ve learned my lesson to avoid late night trains from now on.

Make me pretty...

After my bonus day in Paris, I got to the train station with about an hour and a half before departure. I had some time to spare, so I meandered through the station and came across a Sephora. Yay! A Sephora, thank you Paris! I went in looking for my mascara, which I love and can't get anywhere else.
The Dior woman asked if I wanted a make-over....I figured, I've got some time, why not?
She started with blue eyeshadow, then added some pink, then purple. Then she smudged on some bright blue eyeliner and thick black mascara. She added some pink blush, and lipstick, and I was ready to go. When I looked in the mirror I burst out laughing (I couldn't help it!). I looked like a cross between an exotic dancer and a clown, lol, the perfect look for train travel, right?

Last day in Paris...again

I woke up bright and early this morning, had breakfast, packed the last of my things, and had goodbye hugs with my dormmates. I was off to the train station, and then to Lyon!

When I got to the station, the ticket agent only had room at 8:00 pm. Yikes! It was 9 in the morning, I had a lot of time to kill (and a lot of luggage to carry around). But, I got one more day to enjoy Paris...

• I went to the jardin des Plantes again for a couple of hours. I had a little picnic of yogurt and fruit and hung out with the little brown birds who were having some sort of conference at my feet.
• I had lunch on a patio near the Bastille (my first cafe meal in Paris actually)
• I window shopped in some of the stores along the Rivoli near the Bastille.

It was a blessing in disguise, I had such a great day in Paris (plus I think I walked about 10k with a 30 pound backpack...I think I´m in shape enough to join the army now, lol)

Last day in Paris

Today was my last day in Paris, so I had thought to go to the Eiffel tower to see it lit up at night, but I ended up having such a great time with my dormmates instead. We ended up going for chinese food in St. Paul village and stayed up talking in the room until 3 in the morning. A night out with new friends is an amazing feeling. It´s something like the feeling I get after the perfect thanksgiving dinner, one where I didn´t eat too much, and maybe I´ve had a glass of wine...warm and tingly, spent but happy.

I´m sad to leave Paris :(

The importance of being polite

Parisiens are polite, contrary to what I´ve always heard. I´d say that, as a whole, they´re the most polite city of people I know. It seems that being pleasant is part of their national pride. People exchange smiles and bonjour or bon soir on the street, the men are gentlemen, the shop owners are always very kind (in particular, the receptionists at the hostel are fantastic). In general, complete strangers will gladly help me with directions (as if they hadn´t been asked for directions 20 times that day already) and don´t get too frustrated when I don't understand. I really don't know where they get that snooty reputation.

Another night at Duc des Lombardes

The lead guitarist is playing again with a different group of musicians for 2 more nights this week...So because I liked the music and the atmosphere...and the lead guitarist ;) I went again tonight. This time I brought my camera...
The video is a little shaky, but you can get the idea of the sound. I had a seat near the front this time. The violinist was new, I thought he added something awesome to the sound.

La Charlotte de l´Isle

Finally La Charlotte de l´Isle was open today! I´d read about this place that is supposed to have the best hot chocolate in Paris, but every time I went it was closed :( Today I said I´d try one last time, and it was finally open, yay :)
It´s a very small cafe, overstuffed with french artifacts and books, about 5 tables were crowded together wherever there was room. There was a display of amazing looking desserts and little bowls of candied flower petals. I was in chocolate lovers 7th heaven :) In the picture you can see how the hot chocolate came, in a little stonewear cup with the extra in a little pitcher. It was almost purely melted chocolate, so the pitcher of water was there to mix in to make it the desired consistency (I drank it straight, hehe) Oh my god, it was the best hot chocolate of my life! I can´t describe it...but let´s just say that if my trip somehow got cut short tomorrow, I would leave Paris still feeling satisfied.
Because I was alone, I was joined by another couple...a lady, in her late thirties I think, origionally from Iran and living in Paris for the last 8 years. She was with a man from Afghanistan, maybe my age, who was there to visit for a couple of weeks (hmmm...international booty call?) They were very fashionable and knew a lot about Paris...we spent hours talking.
I walked home filled to the brim with chocolate and good feelings...

My day part I

• Today I woke up late and ate breakfast with one of my new dormmates, Nastya from Russia, who is here to attend an Opera conference. Most people I meet at MIJE are going to school, or here to attend some cultural event, I´m the only one who is a backpacker just passing through. I think it´s awesome, but I feel like my story is hardly as exciting as theirs.


• I spent hours in the english book section of Gilbert Joseph...literally hours, trying to pick a couple of books. It was a labour of love, I´d have 5 books in my hand, change my mind, put 3 back, pick up another two, change my mind and pick up one of the three I´d put back earlier. Anyway, I ended up with a mystery by Mary Higgens Clark (waste of money) and a book of modern short stories (which I´m enjoying)


• I decided to find Cité Florale, an obscure spot that I read about located in the 14th arrondissment. I think I found it, a small enclave of little cottagy homes on street that had names like rue d'Orchidée and rue d'Iris (nestled in a group of boring apartment buildings). The houses appeared to be covered in thick flowering vines, but because it´s winter, they were all dormant. I´m sure it´s beautiful in the summer...but I wasn´t disappointed, I just busied myself with exploring the 14th...a place I liked very much. I came across a small park by a pond where mostly local people sat on park benches and socialized. I sat at a little outdoor café and had a cup of hot chocolate (and sneakily people-watched the locals while they didn´t realize a tourist around.)

Gypsy Jazz at Duc des Lombardes

At 9:00, I decided to bite the bullet and go out by myself to a jazz bar. I picked Duc des Lombardes based on the big line up...I figured it must be good. When I got in, it was standing room only, and even that was tight. I had just enough room to squeeeeze myself against the wall opposite the stage. So even though I wasn't able to sit, I had great view and sound!
This particular band didn´t really have a name, just six musicians reuniting for the night to play some great gypsy jazz (or manouche jazz). The thing about blindly picking a band is that, when it's great, it´s extra great because it´s an adventure. I felt like I was in that beatnik scene in Funny Face with Audrey Hepburn. People of all different types crowded together into a tiny basement bar, grooving to this awesome sound. There was actually a girl wearing a catsuit and a beret, which I found all too pleasing.
Anyway, the band was great, and I wish I had remembered my camera to take pictures! This was truly the way to spend Valentine´s day in Paris...

Oh, I forgot about the Louvre...

I forgot to mention that I went to the Louvre today. I´m not one for museums, and this one in particular was a bit too crowded for me. The ticket agents were on strike, so everyone got in for free. So, actually, because it was free, I didn´t feel bad that I only spent about 20 minutes there before getting bored and trying my hand at l'Orangerie. It seems that I don´t have a good eye for art...I saw the Monet´s, the Picasso´s, the Degas...they just didn´t do anything for me. My mind kept wandering to other things...no matter how hard I tried to focus on the moment.
The line up for l'Orangerie was very long and it was dismally rainy. I and my umbrella defended my spot against the ¨line passers¨...you know, the people who start behind you, then suddenly they´re beside you...they look over and smile as if to say ¨what a nice day!¨, then the next time the line moves, somehow they´re in front of you. It´s an unbelievable phenomenon to me, these line-passers. It's like they're not happy unless they've gotten ahead of at least one person. Being a single traveller, I tend to get the bump a lot. In line for Doisneau, I had to wait an extra 15 minutes because about five people managed to ease in and get into the group ahead of me. Since then, what I lack in space, I make up for in nerve. Now I tap people on the shoulder and say ´pardon´ and glance behind me. Usually that´s enough, they´ll usually sheepishly retreat... Still, it's a phenominon I´ll never understand.

Valentine's day

I spent a lot of time wandering around and window shopping in le Marais today. There are big sales on this week and I've been hoping to find a pair of boots (in Paris right now, everyone is wearing boots with low/no heels, perfect for me!) Some stores, but not many, had signs out for Saint Valentine. Some men were buying flowers, and there were more women than usual in the lingerie shop, but otherwise, it didn't seem like that big a deal here. I like to think that there's enough romance going on all year round, so there's really no need to make up for anything on Feb 14th.

One thing I've learned about the french...

In Paris, pedestrians do not wait for their traffic signals. Even on a busy street at midday...if the way is clear, they go. If, out of habit, you happen to wait for your light, inevitably a local will brush past you and glance back with amusement. Even the police will give you a confused look, as if to say "Why are you waiting? There are no cars coming!"

The lady in line...

While waiting for the Doisneau exhibit, I stood beside a woman who became very unhappy about the progress of the long line-up. She seemed like any other customer at first, but got progressively angrier and angrier until eventually she started shouting and carrying on (in french of course). She spoke angrily with other line-goers (who averted their gaze), shook her fists at the upper windows of the building (presumably the people in the offices were to blame for this inconvenience?), she even yelled something at a passing police officer about getting a pair of glasses (I think...). It was an entertaining way to pass the time though, and I actually got out my little phrase book to decipher some of what she was saying. Something about salty cake? A little bird and a fish?
The rest of us in line kept smiling at each other about the commotion. One lady raised her eyebrows to me and said something in french which I think meant "well, of all the things". I nodded knowingly and laughed...
At the very front of the queue, a couple, maybe in their sixties, cut in front of everyone. This sent the irate lady into a flurry of french explitives so bad that the guards came over. The older couple ended up getting in to the exhibit and the other lady was sent away for making a fuss. I was with the angry lady on this one though, after my 45 minute wait, I wasn´t too impressed with their gaul.

Doisneau

• I moved to MIJE Fauconnier hostel today, this one even more beautiful than the last, but my god, 5th floor and no elevator?
• I went to the Doisneau exhibit at l'Hotel de Ville. It was worth the (unexpected) 45 minute wait. Doisneau is famous for the black and white pictures that capture parisian life from the 1930's? to the 1990's. He is most famous for The Kiss by Hotel de Ville. The pictures I loved the most weren't about romance though, but about city life...dirty children playing street ball, burlesque dancers preparing to go on stage, the rich, the homeless, the tourists...you could tell he loved his city by the way he portrayed both the good and bad in such a beautiful way.
  

Montmartre

• Hotel de Ville is having two free exhibits until March, Cabu (a popular french carticaturist) and Doisneau (famous for the b&w picture of the couple kissing on a busy street in Paris). Today, I went to the Cabu exhibit, mostly because it was free, but now I'm a fan...
• I went to the Sacre-Couer...it took me ages to find it, but it was worth all those flights of stairs and impossibly hilly streets (of course I went the hard way). I was absolutely mesmerized by the vividness of the stained glass, and sat in one of the altars admiring it for quite some time.
• Travelling alone means either no pictures of myself, or the less-flattering arms length pictures. I opt for the arms-length, which usually takes 10 shots to get right (most are of my right eye and part of my nose, or of just me and no vista in the background, lol)
• I walked down the six flights of stairs in front of the Sacre-Couer so that I could make my way to Montmartre. As soon as I got to the bottom, I was greeted by a type of high pressure sales I'd never encountered before. A man came up to me, trying to attach a colourful piece of string to my jacket. When I said 'no merci', he grabbed my arm and started talking at me. I had to say 'no merci' 5 times, getting more assertive each time, before he would let go. I looked around to see a gang of them...bullying all the tourists with their pieces of string. They even grabbed on to children's jackets, scared mothers swatting them away. If that's my scariest experience in Paris, no problem...but I get the sense that they'd be a lot meaner at night.
• I didn't like Montmartre, as those who know me would probably have guessed. I found it cheap, touristy, and ugly. I suppose I didn't give it enough of a chance though, perhaps there are some beautiful things to see there (not that the Moulin Rouge was one of them, I found it a little anti-clamatic ;) )
  

I walk and I walk and I walk. My jeans are starting to fall off...I'll either have to buy new jeans, or start eating more pastries!

The library adventures...

I left my hostel this morning and walked into place Baudoyer on my way to the Metro. It was drizzling wet, and the bells from the monastery were ringing in the morning hour. Across the street the shops and restaurants on rue Rivoli were setting up for the day. It was an idyllic and poetic way to start a rainy day in Paris...I just wish a picture could have captured how it felt!
I decided to find the main library of the city. It would mean a long walk to the 13th arrondissment. On the way, as usual, I got distracted...taking pictures, finding quiet little side streets, getting lost, etc. I bought a pastry called une gallate amond in l'Ile de la Cite and ate it o my way...it was delicious....
In the 5th, I came across le Gardin des Plantes, where locals were enjoying the afternoon. It is a beautiful place, I saw a school of Botany (commisioned by King Henry the 8th to grow medicinal plants), a zoo, and some museums. I went to the Museum of Evolution.
The rest of the walk to the library took longer than I expected, and went through some sketchy neighborhoods, but my goal is to visit the library in each city I travel to, so I perservered! When I got there, it was just of 4 tall modern buildings, set high on a huge set of stairs.
When I got up the steps (groan), and past security (comical if you don't know the language), I found out that I couldn't get into the stacks without some type of card. I left after about 5 minutes....but hey, at least I can say I made it!

On the metro...

On the metro home from the library, in midday, I inadvertently sat across from a sleeping prostitute. She wore spiky thigh high boots (with 3 inch clear heels of course), a short silver miniskirt, a tube top and a patent leather jacket. She was slumped over in her seat, legs sprawled in such a way that I could clearly see she was wearing black lace underwear. I couldn't help but stare, and I didn't figure she'd mind. She had a maroon flower in her hair and beautiful blonde curls, she was young. The man beside me got up and tapped her on the shoulder to see if she was alive...she stirred, adjusted her shirt (but not her skirt), and said "ca va". I wondered why I'd never seen a sleeping prostitute on the subway in Toronto... perhaps our prostitutes change into regular clothes when riding public transit?

Night out...

My dormmate Fiona is very nice. She's from Australia and lives in Hong Kong, and is doing her PHD in Cultural Heritage management. We went out in the morning to visit the farmers market in the latin quarter on rue Mouffetard. We got a couple of ham and cheese baguettes to take along...It seems that in Paris, locals and tourists alike will walk along munching their breadsticks as if they were chocolate bars.
After we parted for the afternoon, I sat in the Luxembourg gardens watching the people go by and admiring the beautiful afternoon. I walked past a group of older men paying chess in the gardens...much the same as you might see in the park on Queen and Broadview in Toronto. One of the men called to me to join him in a game, which I considered, but declined (I'd be no match for him) Later, he came up to me and asked me out for coffee. Ahhh, these french men never lose their game!
In front of St. Germain des Pres Cathedral, a french dixie band was busking in the street. I took a break and watched them for a while. They were fantastic and had drawn a large crowd. At the end of each song, their audience would cheer and shout "Bravo!" The trumpetter would then shout out an advertisement for their latest CD, on sale today. I didn't buy the CD, but I put a euro in their cup. It was great :)
On my way to see the Eiffel tower, a french guy came walking along side me to chat. He was tall, blonde, and handsome, so I chatted back ;) He offered to walk with me to the tower, claiming that it had been years since he'd seen it up close. It took us 45 minutes...he spoke very little English, and I spoke even less french, but we managed a conversation. Afterwards, he showed me to the nearest Metro station and asked me to meet him for a drink. I said no, and that I had to meet a friend....I know, I know! But he wasn't really my type, the walk was fun though!
Later in the evening, we went to a jazz bar on rue Lombarde to hear a Moroccan jazz band that Fiona suggested. It wasn't exactly jazz, but I had such a good time listening to it and being in the crowded little bar. The lead singer/flutist was also a comedien, apparantly, he had the whole bar laughing...but it was lost on me in the translation.

Hello from Paris!

I made it safely to Paris. The flight was ok, very smooth, however my ears popped painfully on the descent. I couldn't hear a thing out of my right ear.
My first experience with a french speaking person was with the customs officer, who after taking my passport, started speaking quickly in french. I don't know the language, and my ears hadn't unpopped yet, so I had no idea what he was saying. I just kept saying, "desolee, je ne parle pas francais". He looked up finally and laughed, "what do you want?" he said. He was cute, and I realized he had been flirting with me..."What do I want?" My passport, please, I suppose. I must have looked thoroughly confused...he just laughed again, stamped my passport and handed it back.
I realize now how big of a problem my language barrier is. Asking for directions on the metro turned into a silly display of myself and the attendant doing sign language and pointing at the map. The metro really is quite efficient, but I didn't even remember the full name of the street of my hostel, so I wasn't much help. I got here though finally, and thankfully, the receptionists all speak English.
I dropped off my bag in the luggage room, and headed out for a walk of the neighborhood. I walked for hours along the Seine, into St. Germaine, Le Marais, the Latin Quarter. It was all so beautiful and felt like a storybook.
At 3:00, I was tired, coughing, and weary. I started back for the hostel for a much needed rest. However, I'd gotten myself so off course in my wandering that it took me two more hours to find my way back! Paris is beautiful, but on no sleep, every corner looks the same as the last...By the time I got back to the hostel, I was almost asleep on my feet. My new dormmates, who were already there and unpacking, must have wanted to wear SARS masks for all my coughing.
This first day in Paris taught me something important. Always get a hotel, not a hostel with a lockout period, after a long flight.
Love Tori

Welcome...

• To those worried family members and friends who are checking in to make sure I'm alright;
• To those who think me crazy for quitting my job and travelling half-way around the world by myself (I tend to agree with you...);
• To those who need to go on a journey of self-discovery of their own...hopefully my photos and reflections will inspire you to follow your own dreams (whatever those may be);
• To those interested in having a laugh over the trouble I'm about to get myself into ;)

Let's all cross our fingers that I'll be able to keep this going...