Final Stage: Tour de France

It was early July when I realized that I had off of work for another Spanish holiday on July 25^th. Hillary and I had already been looking at travelling to France over the weekend in order to see some of the Tour de France, and seeing that the final stage in Paris took place on July 24^th, we seized our opportunity.

Getting to Paris was probably the worst obstacle I have had in Europe. With no Ryanair and Easyjet not flying to Paris, we were left with the expensive train or the less expensive (but still relatively expensive) bus. Being only two hours from the Spanish/France boarder, I thought Paris couldn’t be too much farther. Wrong. The bus ended up being twelve hours each way. So Hill and I bought our bus tickets to Paris, leaving Friday right after work (and travelling overnight) and arriving back in Bilbao in Tuesday morning, right before work. Perfect! The things I do for travelling. And to see Molly I guess. That’s right! Molly met me in Paris.

Hill and I arrived in Paris bright and early. We headed to our apartment to drop off our stuff as we couldn’t check in until the afternoon. The receptionist told us our room wasn’t ready yet, as we expected, so he upgraded us to a bigger room which was ready, contrary to what we expected.

Let me just explain all of the room stuff now, so I don’t have to revisit it later. First I had problems flushing the toilet. After about fifteen minutes of struggling with the lever, I pushed it down as hard as possible (actually I am pretty sure Hillary did this), it flushed successfully. Molly checked in later in the day as she arrived from Spain after us, and she also had flushing problems. Great. When we got back to the room we tried to figure this out. Eventually giving up, we asked the receptionist to help us with this literally shitty problem. He asked if I pushed really hard. I assured him I did but to no avail. He told me the plumber doesn’t work Sundays so he would put us in another room. This ended up being another upgrade. To recap, we booked the smallest apartment and were going to have to rent an extra pull out bed. We eventually were in the biggest apartment, never needing to rent the extra bed. And most importantly, the toilet flushed, free of problems.

Okay, so that was a pleasant and fascinating story I am sure. Anyways, Hill and I made our way into the city center. We started off our weekend in Paris at Sant Chappelle. This is on the same island as Notre Dame, but is arguably less known. I am not sure why though, because this place is gorgeous. It has stained glass windows at least 20 feet high, filling the lengths of the walls. I have pictures, but they do no justice to the intricacies of the windows and the detailed paid to the rest of the church.

If my memory serves me correctly, we then walked towards the Arc de Triomphe. We walked along Champs d’Elysees to scope out the Tour route, but were somewhat disheartened to find that the boulevard was lined with stands that seemed like exclusive access. I guess we would have to find another place to watch from.

We made it to the Arc and decided to go up. I was told it was free for European students (as I am) and I love free things. We stood in line as Mother Nature, again, thought it was the perfect time to screw with my plans. It got cold quickly. The storm clouds rolled in and the wind picked up. She then let us have it, throwing rain at us horizontally, rendering my feeble umbrella useless. We stuck out the line, found out that the ascent was indeed not free, and then made an awkward run for it. By which I mean, we ran out of line away from the ticket booths, not up into the Arc.

The weather made us think that a museum was the perfect idea. It just so happens it gave everyone in Paris that idea. When we arrived at the Musee d’Orsay, the line was worse than New Year’s weekend. We decided to eat instead, hoping the line would shrink in time. Well, the line was still quite long, but the sun came out and we ended up just wandering the area.

We walked up to Pere Lachaise, the famous cemetery in Paris, and wandered about, trying to find the graves of some select famous people. After seeing Chopin’s, we were on our way to see Jim Morrison’s when we were abruptly cut off by a security guard saying the cemetery was closing. No! We were so close! Hill and I then tried going up a different way, with the idea of saying we were lost if we were caught by the same guard. Well, it wasn’t the same guy, but we were stopped again. Drats! Then a couple asked us if we were looking for Morrison and pointed the way. We made a quick dash for it. Admittedly, the grave wasn’t astounding, but there was a beer bottle on it which made me kind of happy.

Eventually we met up with Molly and saw Harry Potter. After the movie we were hungry but excessively indecisive. That was a terrible combination as we ended up walking for hours without eating anything. We ended up at the Eiffel Tower. Molly’s first words went along the lines of “Wow, that is awful.” I had never heard anybody have that reaction to the Eiffel Tower, but I guess we are all welcome to our own opinion. It turns out she really dislikes when the Tower is lit up at night and the lights are twinkling. A crepe and a metro ride later and we were back at our apartment and crashed for the night.

The next day was the day of the Tour. But first, we were hungry. Jane, a friend who studied abroad in Paris this past spring, recommended the Jewish Quarter, L’As du Falafel specifically, for food. I have to hand it to her, the falafel was delicious, but I cannot say that this is the best falafel I have ever had. This still goes to the Rei de Falafel in Padua. Sorry Paris, you guys were close.

After gorging ourselves on the side of the street we walked up Rivoli to see if we could find some cheap Tour shirts. They were cheaper than the official stores up on Champs, but disappointingly, they were not 8 to 12 euros like I had read. Eventually we found people lining up to see the race, and found our place along the road from which to cheer for. I draped the Spanish flag around me in honor of Contador and Sanchez, and waited for the bikers to arrive.

After what felt like hours with the sun beating down on us and burning my oh so fair skin, Molly met up with us and the bikers came by soon after. This was after a ton of sponsor floats and team caravans paraded by. Well, I have to admit, it was pretty exciting, but also pretty comparable to the Running of the Bulls. After hours of waiting there were only a few seconds of excitement. Luckily they passed by twice and I could actually see the racers. Unluckily, Contador and Sanchez took 5^th and 6^th. Ah well, I have to hand it to Evans. Congratulations.

After the Tour we tried to make it to Place de Concorde to see any part of the ceremonies, but all the roads were blocked off, thwarting our attempts. We instead went for food near Saint Michels. The biggest event of the night was probably Molly ordering escargot. All the tables around us stared as she wrestled with the snails. Come on! This is France! Haven’t you seen a girl eat a snail before?

After dinner we bought a bottle of wine and kicked back on the banks of the Seine as boats passed by. Eventually it started to mist and the wind picked up so we headed back to the apartment for a good night’s rest.

Our last day in Paris, Hill (wowza, almost Paris Hilton) and I went up to Montmartre area. We walked up to Sacre Coeur and took in the view until our stomachs got the best of us and were urged to eat. We feasted on cheese and baguette in the sex district and a middle aged British lady told us that we looked very romantic. As she walked away, I asked Hill, “Romantic, or poor?” Apparently there is a fine line.

We walked around a bit more, down to the Opera and over to Tulieres Gardens when it was time to catch the metro to the bus station. We were early, but then alerted that we needed to pick up boarding cards or something before we could actually board, despite having tickets for the bus. We hurriedly ran down to the ticket desk and picked up our passes, all the while getting stressed out as our departure time passed. The stress was all for naught, though, as the bus sat at the platform a good ten or so minutes more.

I wish the bus ride was as quiet and uneventful as the ride to Paris was, but it wasn’t. The driver deemed it in good taste to play an awful movie really loudly. The movie was called Hole in One. Look up the synopsis if you have never heard of it. Actually, I am pretty sure you haven’t heard of it, it seems like a straight to video type of movie. Anyways, it was a raunchy teen comedy about a college student who liked to bet during golf. He made a bad bet and lost, ultimately ending up with a pair of fake breasts. The rest of the movie he tries to raise money to remove them and also get with his love interest. Hint, his love interest isn’t a fan of tits on men. Anyways, that ended and I tried to get a little sleep before we pulled into the Bilbao bus station twenty minutes before work started. I rolled off the bus and stumbled sleepily into work for a thrilling day at the office. All in all, I would say it was worth it.

French Riviera Photos

Euro Trip: Leg 4 - Nice, Eze, Monaco and Villefranche

On to Nice.

So if you read my previous post, I obviously was ready to get out of Paris (oddly enough) and make it to Nice. Yes, after suffering the cold, the French Riviera sounded like a nice change of scenery. Not to mention, Mack had mentioned to me that Johnny Depp lived near Nice. Who knows, maybe he still had some candy from doing Willy Wonka! One could only hope.

After trekking up a gigantic hill past countless presents dogs left behind for us to dodge (seriously Europe, get your act together, pick up after your dogs), we made it to our hostel. Right away we were pleasantly surprised. After such a disappointing hostel in Paris, anything would have been an improvement, but this was so much more. The meeting area was in an old cathedral with stained glass walls and vaulted ceilings. The rooms were great. The beds were like a dream. The bathrooms were large and clean. They served great food right in the hostel for cheap. One of the staff even offered us a cookie from the package he had just received from his mom! We were in utter disbelief.

Dropping off our bags, we headed back down to Nice where we explored the beach and the old town for a little bit. The beach wasn’t what I was expecting. For some reason, I think all beaches are white sand. This had a grey pebble and probably was not too comfortable to lie out on, but it was beautiful none the less. The old part of town was really cute. The architecture and the city as a whole definitely felt much more Mediterranean than French.

We ate in the hostel that night. The food was delicious and the people were great. We ended up playing Asshole with some other Americans, a guy from New Zealand, a Norwegian couple and maybe a few other nationalities mixed in. It was great mixing with so many cultures in such a relaxed environment.

The next day we headed off to Eze. Well, we attempted to head off to Eze. Our ignorance of the bus schedule made it so that we missed our bus by about 5 minutes and the next one was in over an hour. Opting not to wait, we skipped Eze and headed to Monaco, thinking we could hit up Eze on the way back. The ride was beautiful. It was right along the seaside up in the hills and afforded so many great views of the small towns dotting the coast line. On the trip, a fellow traveler and American, Ross, must have heard our own American accents and asked where we were from. We started chatting a little bit, exchanging small snippets of our own trips and eventually decided to see Monaco together. We went to the changing of the guards at the country’s palace. It was decidedly less impressive than the British version, but still interesting to see. Then we went down to the docks. I must admit, this was the major draw for me anyways. To see such opulent yachts docked was enough, but having the owners Ferrari parked outside was just too much. Ross and I drooled over these Italian pieces of art, admiring their engines and perfect styling. On our way out of Monaco we stopped by the casino, an inspiration for many Bond movies. We later heard from our Norwegian acquaintances that the inside was even more remarkable, with great works of art hanging everywhere and just supreme architecture.

While we dawdled by the casino, our bus to Eze made its way out of Monaco. We missed it by like 3 minutes this time! Well, we weren’t going to wait two hours, so we went back to Nice. Once back in Nice, I explored the old city and the Chateaux (I think it was called) which is this great hill overlooking the city, the beach and the port.

The next day we were determined to get to Eze. We made sure we made it to the bus station on time and were off to the small medieval city (well, town) situated on the top of a hill overlooking the sea. We lost ourselves in the narrow, winding stone streets and eventually made it to the top of the town. There was an exotic garden at the top. Apparently exotic means cactus in French. There were agave and prickly pear and aloe and so many other cacti surrounding us as we had amazing views of the surrounding shorelines.

Back in Nice we visited the modern art museum (which is always free by the way, along with apparently most of the museums in Nice) and retreated to the hostel to spend one last night relaxing.

The next day our flight was in the afternoon, so Mack and I split up for a few hours to see what intrigued us. I went to Villefranche, this small fishing village about 10 minutes outside of Nice. I just walked around and read on the beach while small sailboats and dingy bobbed in the water in front of this brightly colored coastline.

Nice was probably one of my favorite stops on the trip, which was entirely surprising. I think the fact that I didn’t have a list of required sites to visit in a short amount of time helped. Also, following Paris, I needed a place to relax and get over my cold (which I did!) to prepare for Rome. Also, they did our laundry for 5 euro! After a week and a half of the same few shirts and pants, access to laundry is like a godsend.

Well, this is the second to last leg of my Euro Trip, with only Rome remaining, but as I am just hours away from departing for my Spain and Italy trip, I must start packing and organizing! Oh, it feels good to finish exams and jet off to the south of Spain. I could definitely get used to this. One looming disappointment though, I may not be able to watch the Packers play in the Superbowl. Apparently Venice is not a popular destination to watch the game, who knew. I think I will find some way to survive though, perhaps drowning myself in pasta and gelato.

Paris Photos

Euro Trip: Leg 3 - Paris

So it has become apparent to me in the past few days that, if you want me to update my blog, just give me something that I really am supposed to be doing, take studying for my Fluid Mechanics final, for example, and I will do almost anything else to avoid it, including watching all three El Señor de los anillos (The Lord of the Rings), doing my laundry, keeping up with the world news (Egypt is a mess) or even writing entries for my blog.

A quick aside:

Usually, when character names are changed when a movie or book or whatever is translated into another language, I tend to get annoyed. This wasn’t completely the case for The Lord of the Rings. They cleverly changed Tree Beard to Barbol (I am assuming a combo of barba meaning beard and arbol meaning tree), but why on (Middle) earth change Baggins to Bolson? You cannot change the main characters name. That would be like changing Harry Potter to Harry Ceramista. You just don’t.

My account of my European trip continues with Paris. If I don’t update this quickly I am going to forget what even happened! Or at least everything will start to blend together, especially with more trips coming up!

Anyways.

Paris.

I would have to say, I was really looking forward to Paris. The Eiffel Tower, Arch du Triomphe, Louvre, Musee d’Orsay, Palace of Versailles, Champs Elysees, Notre Dame. The list goes on. So many monuments, so many impressive sites that I learned about in history classes, literature classes, through Disney movies. So many baguettes! I built Paris into this lofty, ideal city in my head. My great expectations might have had something to do with my disappointment with the city. This isn’t to say that I disliked Paris by any means, and to be fair, I intend to go back to see if it was just the circumstances that left me wanting more, but honestly, I was hoping for more.

Let’s get the bad out of the way first so we can end out on a good note?

The disappointment probably started with the hostel. It was dirty. The staff was not helpful. It was not set up to be conducive to meeting people. Probably my least favorite hostel. Even the kitchen was bad. A fridge, a microwave and a sink do not a kitchen make. Not to mention, when we got there, Mack had no bed in the room she was assigned to and on the last night of our stay they stormed into her room at 1:30 in the morning, yelling at her (apparently), telling her she was in the wrong room, that she had made a mistake that made everyone upset. From what I could tell, this was by no means her fault, yet they made her feel awful. Fair warning to everyone, although Jules Ferry Youth Hostel may be a cheap option, spend the extra money for a nicer place. Staying there could ruin your trip.

The next damper on our Paris trip: the weather. It was overcast, cloudy, or rainy every day in Paris. Also, after spending the winter in Spain where the temperature hovered around 50 degrees, the 30 degree weather felt COLD. Usually this isn’t too bad. Belgium and Switzerland were cold, but I liked my stays there. It was raining in Seville and Madrid, but I Seville was one of my favorite cities in Spain. But after a week of already travelling in hostels with crappy breakfasts, long train rides and always being on the go so you can fit in all the sites, your body is worn down. This chilly weather was apparently just too much for me. By the end of our stay in Paris, I was huddled under my blankets in the very cold hostel room, shivering, trying to sleep despite my coughing, my stuffy nose, and having the chills. Also, since the weather was so wet, that meant fog. Every day. Fog meant I never saw the top of the Eiffel Tower, and wasn’t motivated to even go up it because I knew the view would not be worth it.

Finally, the holidays in Paris made it worse. I know, I know. I was psyched to spend my New Years in Paris, and it was fine. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed my night popping champagne bottles while people around me lit fireworks and the Eiffel Tower shimmered. Yet, the holidays made things very inconvenient for us. Most of the monuments were closed on New Years and had shorter hours on New Year’s Eve, meaning we had to fit everything in on a tighter schedule than our already tight schedule. Also, we were not the only tourists who thought about spending their New Year’s in Paris. There were tourists everywhere. Now, I assume that, yes, this is Paris and yes, there are always tourists everywhere, but I don’t want to stand in line for 2 hours to go up into the Eiffel Tower, especially when the weather was like it was.

So despite the hostel, the weather, and the tourists, (and admittedly, the high costs) I enjoyed my stint in Paris. The first night we walked up Champs Elysees. I saw the Arch, the tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre, the obelisk, everything I was looking forward to. The next day we visited the Palace of Versailles. The Hall of Mirrors was finished (apparently it was being renovated for a while), and the gardens looked spectacular, despite it being winter (when I do go back to Paris, I want to revisit the gardens in better weather). I then made it back to inside the city to see the Louvre and the Musee d’Orsay.

I can hardly wrap my head around the fact that Paris has two of the most impressive collections of art in the world, and they are essentially across the street (and river) from each other. Of course, after seeing the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa (the crowd around this painting was more impressive that the small artwork itself) I was pretty much done with the Louvre. I was tired. I was hungry. I was lost. Yes, it took me 30 minutes to exit the Louvre. Talk about a labyrinth. I enjoyed the Orsay more. The collection of impressionism was pretty astounding. The Cezannes, Monets, Manets, Van Goghs. So many of my favorites gathered within one building.

The next day (New Years Day), as everything was closed, we headed to the Pere Lachaise cemetery (of Paris, Je T’aime fame). It was pretty relaxing, allowing me to contemplate a little among these beautiful mausoleums and tombstones. Not to mention we got to see the burial sites of Oscar Wilde and Chopin.

I tried going back to the Eiffel tower and the Arch, intending to go up one of them. But, as I said before, the crowds and the weather just made me appreciate the structures from the ground. Well, off to Nice.

Lyon Pics

Euro Trip: Leg 2 - Geneva and Lyon

So while I have my mind blown that “Don’t Turn Around” was not an Ace of Base original, I am starting to realize that I either have to update my blog, or forever forget what has happened in Switzerland, or at least in the painstaking detail that I customarily include in “I’m in Europe, Yo.” Right.

Anyways, first a life update. A lot has happened since my last post! At least, a lot that I find interesting.

1. First things first, the Packers made it into the Super Bowl, and I watched them do it! (Thanks Hill, Slingbox is awesome).

2. Hill and I booked our flights and everything to the south of Spain and the north of Italy. We fly to Malaga, go to Granada and the Sierra Nevada (yay for trineo ruso or apparently Russian bobsledding!), Cordoba and then fly from Sevilla to Venice and head to Bologna and Milan.

3. Caitlyn and I planned a surprise party for Hill’s 21^st. Sadly, as 21 isn’t as big of a deal here and it is now finals, we had a very relaxed get together with the Spanish kids from our class. (Don’t worry, we did shoot shots of vodka and coke into people’s mouths, or faces, from the water gun Hill was given as a gift.)

4. We have taken 3 of 4 finals. The last one is to be completed on Monday. Something to look forward to, right?

5. My flights for my family spring break were booked! The fam now needs not worry about getting to Berlin or home from Vienna, only about fitting two week’s worth of stuff into a backpack. I can do it, but my mom takes a full duffle on weekend trips and two suitcases on week long ones. Good luck to her.

So it continues.

Switzerland

Ryanair takes us from Barcelona to Geneva without a hitch. I have to confess, although many people complain, Ryanair is great, if you know what you are getting into. It is cheap. It is efficient. It is always on time. If you expect to get good service and great perks, look elsewhere, but Ryanair gets you from point A to point B just as well as any other airline (if not better than many) and does it so for a tenth of the price, just leave the large suitcase at home. It is easier to travel with just a backpack anyways.

So we touch down in Geneva on time, which is where our good fortune of the day ends. As described in an earlier post, the apartment I happened to choose was very reasonable for the quality, but came with a price. Not only was it a 35 euro cab ride, it was miles away from civilization. Had we rented a car, it would have been great. Yet, we were stuck walking on foot to both Prevessin, this cute little French town with a view of the alps, and Geneva (or at least the nearest Swiss town with a tram connection, Meyrin).

Geneva, for what it is worth, is probably not the best place for a student tourist. We had no money. We were essentially wearing all the clothes we had with us. It was cold. It was expensive. There wasn’t too much to see. But it was still pretty great. When we could see the Alps, it was pretty breathtaking. The cathedral had a beautiful view. The fountain, probably the main draw of the city, show over 400 feet in the air! The place was clean. There were cuckoo clocks and delicious chocolate shops (although my allegiance is to the Belgian chocolates as of now). It was exactly what I expected from Switzerland – an efficient and expensive city which seemed perfectly ordered and completely neutral.

Lyon, France

As we waited in the Geneva train station, Mack asked me, “So why are we going to Lyon?” At that point in the trip, I couldn’t remember. After all the places I had researched for this trip and for past and future trips, Lyon just did not stick out. From what I could remember at that point, it had no memorable monuments, no incredible geological formations.

“I think it was just on the way and I thought it would be nice to see another French town.” I ventured as an answer.

Yet, upon arrival, we both were quite pleased with our Lyonese excursion. Immediately, we felt like we were in France. I don’t know why exactly, but maybe it was the combination of the pastel colors of the sky, the obviously French architecture (which for some would be a dead giveaway), or the crepe stands lining the street, but we were both pretty taken with Lyon. We happened upon some pretty amazing Roman ruins quite unexpectedly. The main cathedral made my jaw drop upon entering, and it had a view to match. Even the walk along either river was refreshing but distinctly French.

That being said, I can’t really say we needed more than a day in Lyon. It was great, and we enjoyed our short stint in the city, but from what I could tell, we had exhausted most of the attractions.

But we did notice there were a lot of blind people around, which we found pretty peculiar. Turns out, upon further investigation, there is a blind community located in Lyon. Who knew?

I do regret one thing about Lyon though. My friend Liz knows a girl, Celia, from Lyon and put us in contact with each other. I had asked Celia if she could meet us and show us around, which she graciously agreed to do. Though, when we were in Switzerland, I let Mack use my cell phone and a minute of talking to her family at home spent all 10 euro I had put on it. I couldn’t contact Celia, and in the end we couldn’t set up a meeting. Oh well, next time.