tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46996140847884048042024-02-06T21:30:39.491-08:00The Weekly BaguetteUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-78926210771518961912010-06-28T17:22:00.000-07:002011-01-23T18:11:03.649-08:00We'll Always Have Paris<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK20zBu7NfF0w40N1Q0sobsh8kLLdyq0oEWvW3pNuAGBVLV4BL4-B1PrF3QrW0qraVSqASzxSg9WGsPoMpYuK5EZEi70DiDhFyrWLI1qtTbH7R8e5OZmYKh36Z2s-zGw3G3cN-kh78cT5D/s1600/hayley+me+and+chris+with+eiffel+tower.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512332554568591058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK20zBu7NfF0w40N1Q0sobsh8kLLdyq0oEWvW3pNuAGBVLV4BL4-B1PrF3QrW0qraVSqASzxSg9WGsPoMpYuK5EZEi70DiDhFyrWLI1qtTbH7R8e5OZmYKh36Z2s-zGw3G3cN-kh78cT5D/s320/hayley+me+and+chris+with+eiffel+tower.jpg" /></a>Although my last few days in Angers were bittersweet, my last day in France was perhaps one of the best ever. June 21—Summer Solstice—the longest day of the year and the Fête de Musique. I woke up early so I could take the train to Chambourcy, a charming village just outside of Paris, where I would stay with my very good friends from my hometown. (Hayley and Chris were on their own European tour.) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgBoMZ4g5LJBRSh9TcfEnwo3WAHWTEGuCTqSQyxwduXaHxRWUERHwKrMGW_CdmJKoHrMhqyVnayKLPniVyIIzaEEQRpIl0zXTxHHdQwfRcieJjATXtuBrgAZFplB4Erffon-qtIef-36ax/s1600/IMG_9083.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 255px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512329061156542402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgBoMZ4g5LJBRSh9TcfEnwo3WAHWTEGuCTqSQyxwduXaHxRWUERHwKrMGW_CdmJKoHrMhqyVnayKLPniVyIIzaEEQRpIl0zXTxHHdQwfRcieJjATXtuBrgAZFplB4Erffon-qtIef-36ax/s320/IMG_9083.JPG" /></a>It was surreal leaving Angers and even more surreal meeting up with Hayley and Chris in Paris. We spent the entire day in Paris sampling its delights and getting our last looks at the ancient city.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-J63yOkMK0vt_VhViUYitXDb9asrC9kdBA7LhhF7HaqJg69vrInwS26H3XNiBgEEGdfX8KS5oMRuDrHxHcO9zA9V34fmMEjDtmQqR4ZqZiD0yegOSet-MBSttr2C0xouA3931xlvaYRVq/s1600/IMG_9092.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512327878938299154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-J63yOkMK0vt_VhViUYitXDb9asrC9kdBA7LhhF7HaqJg69vrInwS26H3XNiBgEEGdfX8KS5oMRuDrHxHcO9zA9V34fmMEjDtmQqR4ZqZiD0yegOSet-MBSttr2C0xouA3931xlvaYRVq/s320/IMG_9092.JPG" /></a>While shopping on the Champs Elysées the street suddenly exploded with the noise of cars honking and it seemed like everyone was suddenly wearing a Portuguese flag. Traffic was completely stopped as people started dancing and marching in the street. This was all because Potugual had just beaten someone 7-0 and clinched a spot in the World Cup playoffs. It was unlike anything I’d seen before.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdEPy_JAnQIGUEZuwDCKnJTWDwxcKr5SHOQzhz0iXlWO9dbE9eSkEZ9jhwmUOGfsRADrgSpMPr7ZyrHxTQX2Q5tKdug-1Ys4bDxOQvudo5emPpA6_qXL85L4t1zsCbX5bZytJAVQFapAX/s1600/IMG_9106.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512329114245942914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdEPy_JAnQIGUEZuwDCKnJTWDwxcKr5SHOQzhz0iXlWO9dbE9eSkEZ9jhwmUOGfsRADrgSpMPr7ZyrHxTQX2Q5tKdug-1Ys4bDxOQvudo5emPpA6_qXL85L4t1zsCbX5bZytJAVQFapAX/s320/IMG_9106.JPG" /></a>Then we walked to the Champs de Mars for a view of the Eiffel Tower. Afterwards we bought our Festival of Musique metro tickets which gave us free reign of the city at the impossibly awesome price of 3 euros. We could use any type of public transportation until seven the next morning. What a bargain.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPS6uYqGtfDfr5ifDk-pDnJzTy3BhM0SjloR6PohS8IqddF26hyphenhyphenfBY0TIsbtLhuzwVfSPtNAOXE0_xj67JnjPtnZSRzh-7a720WvDZkXWrBE4Vya0SQyL5yOc6tLo0jY912W96W-SqHvGn/s1600/IMG_9109.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 261px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 189px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512327894205610466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPS6uYqGtfDfr5ifDk-pDnJzTy3BhM0SjloR6PohS8IqddF26hyphenhyphenfBY0TIsbtLhuzwVfSPtNAOXE0_xj67JnjPtnZSRzh-7a720WvDZkXWrBE4Vya0SQyL5yOc6tLo0jY912W96W-SqHvGn/s320/IMG_9109.JPG" /></a>Since my one regret from earlier visits was not seeing the sights of Montmartre (the old arts district where famous artists used to live) we went straight to the 18th arrondisement. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7jbg2KSr0T3UqXV5_N2j7FkFJamZCsVOwD9lDjTlC9Wt1d4BsljdpSO-OIXQM6fk_ZD9AcOkHcqhIlEA2oFKzFKNCNsn8U0v0rE7RyLFuhx847w4gWtTOMSGECHLNsu7oE5fFs_GmamP/s1600/IMG_9104.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 270px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512329073152549746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7jbg2KSr0T3UqXV5_N2j7FkFJamZCsVOwD9lDjTlC9Wt1d4BsljdpSO-OIXQM6fk_ZD9AcOkHcqhIlEA2oFKzFKNCNsn8U0v0rE7RyLFuhx847w4gWtTOMSGECHLNsu7oE5fFs_GmamP/s320/IMG_9104.JPG" /></a>After locating the Moulin Rouge we bought pizzas and galettes and sat on the steps overlooking all of Paris. And then, the Sacre Coeur. If Notre Dame was just the tiniest bit disappointing, the Sacre Coeur more than made up for it. Firstly, the view is incredible. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7d2bvrk3eMGe_1MYBj1W25k96nxLrj-Xx61jj0LKXcb6PJwT7qkpBHxRLZt96vMCBiHrSBronZIXYg9_7J9Cg0uYgaBMIv7n7nTHcomTF3gyK5Z6z4gnA5Tlp3CVTqY2ETE21h4Gfi2N/s1600/IMG_9115.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512327897941351074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7d2bvrk3eMGe_1MYBj1W25k96nxLrj-Xx61jj0LKXcb6PJwT7qkpBHxRLZt96vMCBiHrSBronZIXYg9_7J9Cg0uYgaBMIv7n7nTHcomTF3gyK5Z6z4gnA5Tlp3CVTqY2ETE21h4Gfi2N/s320/IMG_9115.JPG" /></a>Secondly, the outside is spectacular and thirdly, the inside, with its gold and blue mosaic, is jaw dropping.<br />We wandered through several other arrondisements listening to the variety of street musicians who were out for the festival. Then we marched to the Pont de Neuf and watched the sun set on the Seine. Once night fell we made stops at the Louvre (for a last frolick through the fountain), the Garnier Opera house and the Eiffel Tower. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZlMJHHBAnjv17wT4VISMayYC0ve8kek-KBdmIwmTgB7bUE1D8Ms1t__jwD7CAj_Rf2V8Nso0balyxDZMvnzD2jFYE7r-_1aIoBkrEBg21Lz1-s4BDnU-YsW2sptR-8J6BEM1Buacha08/s1600/IMG_9129.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512329082183176514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZlMJHHBAnjv17wT4VISMayYC0ve8kek-KBdmIwmTgB7bUE1D8Ms1t__jwD7CAj_Rf2V8Nso0balyxDZMvnzD2jFYE7r-_1aIoBkrEBg21Lz1-s4BDnU-YsW2sptR-8J6BEM1Buacha08/s320/IMG_9129.JPG" /></a>Thanks to our magical passes we were able to accomplish this easily.<br /><br />We made it home around 4 in the morning, got in a quick cat nap and then headed for the airport. The last thing I did was eat a croissant in Charles de Gaulle aéroport before boarding the plane. Au revoir France! Tu me manques déjà!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSUFQEmRsou9ldGLtT2Wxo5ydvOD9_FZ6hclODz-teoFu74OJKNkOIVu462O_kkUELPCEHU0e8wrBE4qRJBT7kXpILPI3L-2qySkWtAHEdXAtIcCxM1do-7Cf40Etd_TxvO_7ItYXp3L-W/s1600/IMG_9146.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 260px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512327907695346626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSUFQEmRsou9ldGLtT2Wxo5ydvOD9_FZ6hclODz-teoFu74OJKNkOIVu462O_kkUELPCEHU0e8wrBE4qRJBT7kXpILPI3L-2qySkWtAHEdXAtIcCxM1do-7Cf40Etd_TxvO_7ItYXp3L-W/s320/IMG_9146.JPG" /></a>The first thing I did Stateside was get a cannoli in the North End of Boston and the second was take another 6 hour flight back to California and my family. It was so good to see everyone at home and eat some of the foods I’d been missing out on, but re-entry wasn’t easy. The sense of loss was almost overwhelming. Dairy products just don’t taste the same here and I miss fresh bread and walking everywhere and seeing things that are hundreds of years old. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRJnJiiVxr3HiMqqtRkWLGd8B_kQbpM2Kys9DeRGbkPuYttu5KZi5sUVZX4rI8mcecb4qo7Sm23RZjy9ypED2agsLiAVuYEuH0yZ9w4N2ba-uGlse8PNlrP1oxZLqhKuiCxMNKIrsLaHg/s1600/IMG_9086.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 256px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512331637153684594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRJnJiiVxr3HiMqqtRkWLGd8B_kQbpM2Kys9DeRGbkPuYttu5KZi5sUVZX4rI8mcecb4qo7Sm23RZjy9ypED2agsLiAVuYEuH0yZ9w4N2ba-uGlse8PNlrP1oxZLqhKuiCxMNKIrsLaHg/s320/IMG_9086.JPG" /></a>All I want to do is share my experiences from abroad and it’s hard to realize that not everyone will understand just what the experience meant to me (or want to listen to me rambling on about “This one time in France…”) Anyone who has studied abroad can relate (not perfectly, of course) because everything reminds you of something that happened in France or Spain or Italy or Norway or wherever you were.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9Mhkw8DF0SmAyz61m29-twoT0Dy3bCFNrVVCY-Tan5hTd2kLLQfoCL0qJFOpdZczkCBOuKjpwoNruEW3X3zN3eHyjcQJ_7_g8pfNZRr8FG7TJu38opNUm1Dgcj4kRmNX1Y8vuGwf6gvJ/s1600/IMG_9119.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512332953470524738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9Mhkw8DF0SmAyz61m29-twoT0Dy3bCFNrVVCY-Tan5hTd2kLLQfoCL0qJFOpdZczkCBOuKjpwoNruEW3X3zN3eHyjcQJ_7_g8pfNZRr8FG7TJu38opNUm1Dgcj4kRmNX1Y8vuGwf6gvJ/s320/IMG_9119.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivsM69qLjsIszZuX6B3BuuBhyiD6FavpzOb4LGg9GekKL1anD0cOZFGsuzDlfdJ4ladFYwTm9iQYgZAvMrZZk858ryIgM5mgxxuxFxUsBPdBSeE075fCE47MB3EWJfgX9dKSfimW-fhPma/s1600/IMG_9119.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And here are my answers to everyone’s favorite questions: 1) No, I’m not fluent, but I can hold a conversation and read French books now.<br />2) If there’s one thing I miss most about France, it’s not hearing French spoken at all hours of the day.<br />3) I absolutely intend to go back as soon as I can.<br /><br />This is the last post, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed sharing my experiences with you. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztld4y3XQUyCwyVUuu26FZSrXpsB_0Z9NVRUW1x64ssg8Fd7AgdwcL4OgQK4rXasyWytl0Jv1-tpzcNbhQdcES1nqYIzUyZ4w2kkjVQlLatQTgO5xUEamXaka9i7m22ewXBgEqhFZQgxo/s1600/hayley+me+arc+de+triomph.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 295px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 215px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512331648447939794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztld4y3XQUyCwyVUuu26FZSrXpsB_0Z9NVRUW1x64ssg8Fd7AgdwcL4OgQK4rXasyWytl0Jv1-tpzcNbhQdcES1nqYIzUyZ4w2kkjVQlLatQTgO5xUEamXaka9i7m22ewXBgEqhFZQgxo/s320/hayley+me+arc+de+triomph.jpg" /></a>Don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions or comments.<br /><br />Toujours (always),<br />Heidi<br /><a href="mailto:wroblickyh@merrimack.edu">wroblickyh@merrimack.edu</a>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-36811945923070070442010-06-20T17:14:00.000-07:002010-08-26T17:15:51.366-07:00Time to Say Goodbye<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDje4fBOUPATHkX7dXjue0s3ZP-BT3oQHChIe86j79-P7Pkp7Q4E9YJokmTWvywHQ9vcN9RyC1TjtokAOhlK0v_BuomIXFjbsy3mpvpHe_eTCiCqAZcq_q6fAiHt2W5vdcrVSYh_li04YZ/s1600/jay+pic+head+in+circle.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509445384150533874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDje4fBOUPATHkX7dXjue0s3ZP-BT3oQHChIe86j79-P7Pkp7Q4E9YJokmTWvywHQ9vcN9RyC1TjtokAOhlK0v_BuomIXFjbsy3mpvpHe_eTCiCqAZcq_q6fAiHt2W5vdcrVSYh_li04YZ/s320/jay+pic+head+in+circle.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_NoAteJV30YS_DBhPtPmzZasp1tQeZxUeWk_jVmWubPY0o_OzNfFqwg6U6xaxUEvWDprsohj64j5mnkpHwqEQUeYSVlvWr1zGi3Oqx5XuB4nBh7i8ls9TFn-VDeJbdAYeJjmGeTCWYF62/s1600/IMG_8934.JPG"></a><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivbPtTgBVWLSaOxaEzA6Gq-ktfZDGweypG6MH1xEqgdyrU95poCG-_ap1CW90-VOAVK6umfQzvj-y0sbEGeBiMAZk23ThyVSsUDLo97L_dlsqNovwmz0krN9vk51DNcGV1QJ5L86TS0O0i/s1600/IMG_8582.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 263px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509448726857240418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivbPtTgBVWLSaOxaEzA6Gq-ktfZDGweypG6MH1xEqgdyrU95poCG-_ap1CW90-VOAVK6umfQzvj-y0sbEGeBiMAZk23ThyVSsUDLo97L_dlsqNovwmz0krN9vk51DNcGV1QJ5L86TS0O0i/s320/IMG_8582.JPG" /></a>I apologize for posting so late, but the last month or so was incredible hectic, but I do want to give this blog some closure. June started off with finals and a visit to the Cointreau factory and museum (Cointreau is an expensive world renowned orange liqueur made specially in Angers) before all the goodbyes to my friends began. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVvx3X82-iXN1P_14DFxAvvSnv9B6e-dYCJLsBijXHWUp6cjagXyMZAfgdZlekDp3uTHbJCjiBeqpxjGVdWw06tEUdiaMYamFT-pGSvk8oyWvpvSeHefdus2pDveJLuSAr9XZruNP8nQH/s1600/IMG_8582.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCE5VFyKY0oa3XYkNE9OVMw8j3FEF-xFNY5EWXz7wtP_LvWRdWfiEXcPPddIWFb_-HsJPj2t6YJr_CWBZRohDC_2CHxPDZUAMSu5FCo_2cb_TCvQp0UIFXS6F6sv9URp6DeShJYiJixCw/s1600/IMG_8760.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509445367526282162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCE5VFyKY0oa3XYkNE9OVMw8j3FEF-xFNY5EWXz7wtP_LvWRdWfiEXcPPddIWFb_-HsJPj2t6YJr_CWBZRohDC_2CHxPDZUAMSu5FCo_2cb_TCvQp0UIFXS6F6sv9URp6DeShJYiJixCw/s320/IMG_8760.JPG" /></a>Some of my friends left the day after finals, but I was sticking around for another two weeks so I was at the train station everyday (sometimes multiple times in one day) saying goodbye to everyone. It involved lots of hugs and tears and many promises to come back or visit in the States or just keep in touch. Saying goodbye is never fun, especially if you’re not sure if you’ll ever see someone again, but it’s so much better than not having met them in the first place. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw_i1_3Lqb4oOmK9X8li-vXXIw_nHA2OMTnoK8AgS_03y_Q88TWqmy9TO7s8j_L_FPMT9nj9Yv3DbFgnl6EwoLyud-bXSfREthFiagQZX4dIBmO6YBnADs7YmtKqw3v5vLhWbhfba6HfuU/s1600/IMG_8857.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 260px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509448692853681298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw_i1_3Lqb4oOmK9X8li-vXXIw_nHA2OMTnoK8AgS_03y_Q88TWqmy9TO7s8j_L_FPMT9nj9Yv3DbFgnl6EwoLyud-bXSfREthFiagQZX4dIBmO6YBnADs7YmtKqw3v5vLhWbhfba6HfuU/s320/IMG_8857.JPG" /></a>As one of my friends said “Life is all about goodbyes. At some point in your life you will have to say goodbye to everyone you’ve ever met. But that shouldn’t stop you from going out and meeting people.” That was the sad part. The fun part was that everyday was a grand adventure and every night my friends and I jumped into a different French fountain.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpdDLY4PzYT1KSKLFmqPkbiZkNgyZv0Ksv5TRtVa9aGb_F66UrQQv3dEEfOCFOOVMdnlIzgw262zwlXx1iIIKCvkMcINVTELgBRJtkqwfLIvgHl4gVScQG7O25Q-MQBbtEymFi2NBGPGAZ/s1600/IMG_8915.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 252px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509445392420017186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpdDLY4PzYT1KSKLFmqPkbiZkNgyZv0Ksv5TRtVa9aGb_F66UrQQv3dEEfOCFOOVMdnlIzgw262zwlXx1iIIKCvkMcINVTELgBRJtkqwfLIvgHl4gVScQG7O25Q-MQBbtEymFi2NBGPGAZ/s320/IMG_8915.JPG" /></a>Since I was staying for a couple more weeks I was around for the 2010 World Cup game of England vs USA. England had already scored a goal by the time I got to the bar to watch with my British friends. It was great fun…or great banter as they would say. The Brits were decked out in red and white clothing and paint and sported the flag of St. George as a type of cape and singing rugby turned soccer (or should I say football) songs. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwTxERDqKx8stRg3mICBXgNdzoOxfaHLn3EGpSne67NTRufgT1_HW5UaLKtIOD8FowRHOXIGw1W6jSfOiQLJhyphenhyphenFqrg4IgVz-xTOeYpTbmwqbOU-4LnpUxgWRKw2p9CG4YaWC6mR1oUsCS/s1600/IMG_8890.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 270px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509448704072049858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwTxERDqKx8stRg3mICBXgNdzoOxfaHLn3EGpSne67NTRufgT1_HW5UaLKtIOD8FowRHOXIGw1W6jSfOiQLJhyphenhyphenFqrg4IgVz-xTOeYpTbmwqbOU-4LnpUxgWRKw2p9CG4YaWC6mR1oUsCS/s320/IMG_8890.JPG" /></a>I wore my red, white and blue along with my Boston Red Sox hat…very American I thought. If you didn’t see the game it was really exciting because England was supposed to win it, but USA stuck it out for a 1-1 tie and I took a lot of heat for it.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY9uJKwyT39O6I-dTzeM-YtN4iujQ9XMlr75cfqWY9SZ043iI03pbLsey365md6EN5e_M1Repv4qJBziuQlQz5ckcklf5CguAlimbgRqc8GFa-Ok8-57RI3x6Sipctf_A-8YdWLwoMMI5j/s1600/IMG_9009.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 260px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 193px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509449830395029938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY9uJKwyT39O6I-dTzeM-YtN4iujQ9XMlr75cfqWY9SZ043iI03pbLsey365md6EN5e_M1Repv4qJBziuQlQz5ckcklf5CguAlimbgRqc8GFa-Ok8-57RI3x6Sipctf_A-8YdWLwoMMI5j/s320/IMG_9009.JPG" /></a>I spent my last days in Angers visiting the different parks, eating my last baguettes and macarons, sketching the castle, and learning how to salsa and play French card games. I’m so glad I stayed the extra bit because it gave me a chance to let go. It was painful knowing I had to leave soon, but I was also excited to be going home since I hadn’t seen my family in five months. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaJwT-w1ysDpzBjnACW4IIp-utFJ5CBeDehO9drD9IF02UpGcvVmGwJNwgcgYLOvQu_raIQQ4Skz2IgCXf9yN9N17Gy1nTZugcKmg8UUrgAeIhBD_rsPmaR9UgzVcC2AFg0kQYL8AFn7TM/s1600/IMG_9036.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz0NNA_F_RfKNQos5vENQwjhPMscFdE54Ao7NXSaXEdQDpfMZetZwmQyFIt6uVgo-4q4IiP6xiGrTUM_mF8qmvtr3FJ2FTIqXuDrDGlHYwI1lnHBrYiEtEtGhHRG76B-TIz6904uFE5vld/s1600/IMG_9025.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 265px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 191px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509876290172480402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz0NNA_F_RfKNQos5vENQwjhPMscFdE54Ao7NXSaXEdQDpfMZetZwmQyFIt6uVgo-4q4IiP6xiGrTUM_mF8qmvtr3FJ2FTIqXuDrDGlHYwI1lnHBrYiEtEtGhHRG76B-TIz6904uFE5vld/s320/IMG_9025.JPG" /></a>I will never forget the friends I made in Angers nor the city itself. Angers has become yet another home to me and I hope to return someday soon. If you are thinking of studying abroad, do it. You learn so much about so many different things in all aspects of life. And if you’re going to go, I highly recommend going to a country where you will be forced to speak another language. It’s uncomfortable at first, but people are more accepting of your mistakes and faux pas than you think.</div><div></div><br /><div>Encore une fois (once more),</div><br /><div>Heidi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0aMCiwqObImgNldrve4YqZJmaizS2i96WMZgu2SLk1eIKN3kjSJ5tGxZ_CIEUUpAHL9oFvkbdxBw6KPBDXMsVz1KtgchonDOsS00cwTVph2VJ3JvgN7mved4OG7iXC0Zfu1nA-td2GD7/s1600/IMG_8811.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 283px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 207px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509445379158944466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0aMCiwqObImgNldrve4YqZJmaizS2i96WMZgu2SLk1eIKN3kjSJ5tGxZ_CIEUUpAHL9oFvkbdxBw6KPBDXMsVz1KtgchonDOsS00cwTVph2VJ3JvgN7mved4OG7iXC0Zfu1nA-td2GD7/s320/IMG_8811.JPG" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-8022238818391758912010-05-31T15:40:00.000-07:002010-08-25T11:59:51.232-07:00An American in Paris: Day 4-7<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZsSRd1CJv0xruLW5ktgC6vyphps_SIrRQg3TfudL0FFusI9V_ygKK8kxCInAJ8f0Au89-uy5FWK9F5sSK5TVW3x5U5yJUjLbg2NCtRvhICBkAAxIaEU_Q3diwbhsXL2t_sXrRmJmczkY/s1600/IMG_8494.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500962654335707426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZsSRd1CJv0xruLW5ktgC6vyphps_SIrRQg3TfudL0FFusI9V_ygKK8kxCInAJ8f0Au89-uy5FWK9F5sSK5TVW3x5U5yJUjLbg2NCtRvhICBkAAxIaEU_Q3diwbhsXL2t_sXrRmJmczkY/s320/IMG_8494.JPG" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTgmK7Gb-vq-QKD_yQnuieIFdzsuGsETgrsovU4_fpwSOK7yUHlky6J2PCbJ8VzhqncxDzmJIfpvkXG5Z9i7MvWr_D6V9QBmtds5gsxwKxJdIoK9zUzg-_ZJMcVoQEEAFCrhpTvBkfVPpb/s1600/IMG_8427.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 241px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500964453644691522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTgmK7Gb-vq-QKD_yQnuieIFdzsuGsETgrsovU4_fpwSOK7yUHlky6J2PCbJ8VzhqncxDzmJIfpvkXG5Z9i7MvWr_D6V9QBmtds5gsxwKxJdIoK9zUzg-_ZJMcVoQEEAFCrhpTvBkfVPpb/s320/IMG_8427.JPG" /></a>Day 4 was the start of the conference so I checked to make sure Kathy (Director of Merrimack’s Writing Center) had arrived before going to the Champs de Mars for my first actual viewing of the Tour Eiffel. It is incredible and gargantuan in real life. Then Kathy and I went to the opening of the Conference, which was held at the American Church, and a champagne and hors d’oeuvres reception. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIFgHNAR3itpEBk-V33o4K5LWPh_dKsYVOLR_dbwqCW0jsHABvQtakT7yPQmXfhVGahyjoMKSdjGCv8FZEzopsGxqVrq8ZXstYW5kL8jKP_oQkMbAWFx1X2f4kCzRBfTSBpoa4UkhCyrv/s1600/IMG_8406.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 249px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500962662706900818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIFgHNAR3itpEBk-V33o4K5LWPh_dKsYVOLR_dbwqCW0jsHABvQtakT7yPQmXfhVGahyjoMKSdjGCv8FZEzopsGxqVrq8ZXstYW5kL8jKP_oQkMbAWFx1X2f4kCzRBfTSBpoa4UkhCyrv/s320/IMG_8406.JPG" /></a>Afterwards I met Sasha and Phoebe for dinner with Sasha’s aunt. She was the cutest little woman and made sure we had traditional French eatings like an aperitif of kir (char<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUluwaPZDsM1OU5C0eTludobL8YxbUsAT3BYJuBkYOXMHXd9uydLwLWOEdIOP0uSzrfJLcX9hOL-A-qWixlTa6R5rAYuNBRfKjII1ruspvhWngLpiYuurdhYTwFdLgLysmjxti6iUpqJkt/s1600/IMG_8393.JPG"></a>donnay with créme de cassis) and escargot. I’d never had escargot before, but I’d been dying to try it. It was served hot with pesto and butter and it was chewy, but delicious.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDTv8LCLegwWitmbHvrIH_J91KoXrTqpqHpYP1Hrxi2rFY9wnwIsHDy9TlV9QlZR_O75u8u5BE9pAt-H2tznvjdeRWh2aPHUYUCwr5dq0KNVZIC1P7hv_eqMBUUO9TDjrRPqG-qqODhqo/s1600/IMG_8472.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500964462533759746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDTv8LCLegwWitmbHvrIH_J91KoXrTqpqHpYP1Hrxi2rFY9wnwIsHDy9TlV9QlZR_O75u8u5BE9pAt-H2tznvjdeRWh2aPHUYUCwr5dq0KNVZIC1P7hv_eqMBUUO9TDjrRPqG-qqODhqo/s320/IMG_8472.JPG" /></a>Day 5 was taken up almost entirely by the conference. But it was great! I learned so much about writing center pedagogy and writing in different countries like Germany, Turkey, Poland, England and Denmark. After the conference the entire group went for ride on a bâteaux mouche. The boat took us along the quai and we got to see unique views of the Eiffel Tower, National Assembly, Invalides, Tulieries, Louvre, Ile de la Cité and Notre Dame.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHD7baI5HM5PURWaRetRszCugkN60h_-8kPYyxLvuqt8eG77Kf8Vma7tMPJF5NfItAJ7_2vDiKT_DIPN8TInP5tbqO7LDrQm6xykMGzvpzqIbG6yVwQCpZnUmBzNtvpUpgFgL8FiHArz8k/s1600/IMG_8461.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 261px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 183px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500964466447887842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHD7baI5HM5PURWaRetRszCugkN60h_-8kPYyxLvuqt8eG77Kf8Vma7tMPJF5NfItAJ7_2vDiKT_DIPN8TInP5tbqO7LDrQm6xykMGzvpzqIbG6yVwQCpZnUmBzNtvpUpgFgL8FiHArz8k/s320/IMG_8461.JPG" /></a> Kathy and I also decided to visit the Eiffel Tower at night. I love when it sparkles! It is just plain beautiful.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2MHSNz_Iz7zDnrnnTlELWvSGV0R96zlRR0ZYqQ7S8MwUfBv1y_y1asoc43yT2KGNcRjYXRH_xkc97sdFrAI2Za6KIc55SgA1gQJgDQkLTriIrbIPaQXdi8YzKqDs1flEF6H6qvqe7Q_h/s1600/IMG_8505.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 259px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500962676559572738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2MHSNz_Iz7zDnrnnTlELWvSGV0R96zlRR0ZYqQ7S8MwUfBv1y_y1asoc43yT2KGNcRjYXRH_xkc97sdFrAI2Za6KIc55SgA1gQJgDQkLTriIrbIPaQXdi8YzKqDs1flEF6H6qvqe7Q_h/s320/IMG_8505.JPG" /></a>Day 6 I finally got to go to the Musée d’Orsay and it was certainly worth the wait. There was a special exhibit called Crime et Châtiment (Crime and Punishment) and it was really, really cool, if rather morbid. It featured the dark side of artwork with scenes of death, torture, dissections, prisons, the French revolution, femmes fatales, judgment scenes, sensational newspaper story covers, a guillotine, and even the ballet dancers of Degas who represented a form of punishment to the body. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBOqpT2VaQtWckGFeNE2bztWerOU9FO1Xdiq5X0yWmA4DymTSnOLVxzMJ3D2bGwMe4EGyNQgR44bn3CFogsPqSWR_7RW07pV5vCpnLDqN6r73V5s3WB_B6bpHUoe9Ow0zHDUUZNr1undO4/s1600/Renoir_moulin+de+la+galette.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 269px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500968248334762370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBOqpT2VaQtWckGFeNE2bztWerOU9FO1Xdiq5X0yWmA4DymTSnOLVxzMJ3D2bGwMe4EGyNQgR44bn3CFogsPqSWR_7RW07pV5vCpnLDqN6r73V5s3WB_B6bpHUoe9Ow0zHDUUZNr1undO4/s320/Renoir_moulin+de+la+galette.jpg" /></a>The most impressionant was this creepy wooden prison door from Bois, France from 1900 with carvings of numbers, dates and the words “adiu, adieu, adieu” on the prisoners’ side of the door. I’m glad I saw the exhibit first because everything else after that was happy. I saw works by Monet, Van Gogh, Renoir, Seurat, Degas, Lautrec, Delacroix, Gaugin, Rodin, etc. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPFZqbRCwg5e2wuXBD3xn7_3Xfdk6IdZ9CNlfhG5eZxIQrJlv4rNNrrDjbv0zIxLM5u2EzCN97GD9U-nbVddwgl9YKACJrtFWHXfj7SvNxSnkuSbaG7xKQlRkoSuogn6GP0JzE-iANGmMs/s1600/IMG_8506.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 264px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500962682786274930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPFZqbRCwg5e2wuXBD3xn7_3Xfdk6IdZ9CNlfhG5eZxIQrJlv4rNNrrDjbv0zIxLM5u2EzCN97GD9U-nbVddwgl9YKACJrtFWHXfj7SvNxSnkuSbaG7xKQlRkoSuogn6GP0JzE-iANGmMs/s320/IMG_8506.JPG" /></a>I returned to the conference and afterwards there was a bus tour of the city led by two American University of Paris students who were very well informed about the history and sights of Paris. We learned that on the 7th floor of Louis Vuitton is a free art gallery and that the Champs Elysées is now the 3rd most expensive street in the world.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp4oTEtHJg3anvq99qV7b1JlXH8QGrca32Ua4jde0biZCjzjDkXmjCgGNK8F_1GZsByPgSX0SseHKXrFdDGDz8tWusNIA8S3ifhtuKTMv070ySkVK2XVLQgdD6EjuuR1NlEvjh1IwxbhsM/s1600/IMG_8448.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500964471775210546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp4oTEtHJg3anvq99qV7b1JlXH8QGrca32Ua4jde0biZCjzjDkXmjCgGNK8F_1GZsByPgSX0SseHKXrFdDGDz8tWusNIA8S3ifhtuKTMv070ySkVK2XVLQgdD6EjuuR1NlEvjh1IwxbhsM/s320/IMG_8448.JPG" /></a>Day 7 was presentation day and it went spectacularly well. Everyone was intrigued by our topic and we had a great discussion at the end. A wine and cheese reception finished off the conference and then it was time for me to catch the train back to Angers. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4i_-10ZNrm8i3c4xoCigy-00aw5Fgk4WEHJb5c8CDIQAzk7V6TCOyJsyKat8Mq8YO-C8rV06PgL423CSvXqtG7TczUAUFztMZRV6y1bB79hT1y2vXH2c666S2QavTMs-Rc-6XWZmBSs5d/s1600/IMG_8383.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500968003531527266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4i_-10ZNrm8i3c4xoCigy-00aw5Fgk4WEHJb5c8CDIQAzk7V6TCOyJsyKat8Mq8YO-C8rV06PgL423CSvXqtG7TczUAUFztMZRV6y1bB79hT1y2vXH2c666S2QavTMs-Rc-6XWZmBSs5d/s320/IMG_8383.JPG" /></a>And whadda ya know, there was an accident on my section of the metro so I had to run to the next stop which, luckily, had the transfer I needed to get to the train station. Still it was touch and go for a bit there. In the end I made it safely back to Angers and had to mentally prepare myself for taking my socio-cultural final the next morning.</div><div></div><div>Bonne chance à moi! </div><div>Heidi</div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-20256266120484262202010-05-30T09:29:00.000-07:002010-06-18T06:01:48.070-07:00From Paris, With Love: Day 1-3<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJfRU8KY9FHPrJza73p2jZlPpc8Fi8wfHjmYBuP0qZ391StTDao6d3zK-vjYCGoyRD9mYNjYrDIlOYbZ_btjeZEI-tgqrXFJFEI8FyP9wo9FmL2qUkJytdBCZ3s7I5qJb0kXkr6qM5z6Kw/s1600/IMG_8180.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484067646500928242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJfRU8KY9FHPrJza73p2jZlPpc8Fi8wfHjmYBuP0qZ391StTDao6d3zK-vjYCGoyRD9mYNjYrDIlOYbZ_btjeZEI-tgqrXFJFEI8FyP9wo9FmL2qUkJytdBCZ3s7I5qJb0kXkr6qM5z6Kw/s320/IMG_8180.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />So I was one week in Paris and oh man <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQj37arYX6cGxt-B6I5nNC_OTP0kiCE2qTvk5c0yzYXwa6_G0B6dOLw0B75fmGv9uTmoMNXnxnGSETQi-GRDmxA9p6qVEzKkiEoAAQCXyjtiJwkgFcr6zeNlDHivkNsA9vD2mXbJL_lR3/s1600/IMG_8021.JPG"></a>what a week it was. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xVThZhVCyO_DQ4vZsvdwXvp5nV5vWkLKWJnwz4OgangXKJPguZghSZt3T66ODT64EdTz52SK7s51judhh7bsTh7AnYo3rBClg3DpFep89jb1RqjykMnZ0f72KTCEiVPiFMgDjrkXeh5u/s1600/IMG_8021.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 248px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484085582632185810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xVThZhVCyO_DQ4vZsvdwXvp5nV5vWkLKWJnwz4OgangXKJPguZghSZt3T66ODT64EdTz52SK7s51judhh7bsTh7AnYo3rBClg3DpFep89jb1RqjykMnZ0f72KTCEiVPiFMgDjrkXeh5u/s320/IMG_8021.JPG" /></a>I was lucky enough to stay in a real Parisian apartment on the market street Rue Cler in the 7th arrondisement (there are 20 all total) with Sasha, my friend from high school and her friend, Phoebe. They had just finished their semester in Rome and were excited about the change of scenery. Ok so here’s a sketch of what happened.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNP5VHK4BYcEhw8SzFPvn867lg4HYbY44_mLb6V-Y3ognwQFvPztvCxDsnRzvmV3qDs7-C4dSl8h-txfuTvFp-7MoyuD_c0dM3u5paHCAxmJnDjdCp2ILpWbgorpWm05M7fkioHoruJafL/s1600/IMG_8076.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484067669760031378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNP5VHK4BYcEhw8SzFPvn867lg4HYbY44_mLb6V-Y3ognwQFvPztvCxDsnRzvmV3qDs7-C4dSl8h-txfuTvFp-7MoyuD_c0dM3u5paHCAxmJnDjdCp2ILpWbgorpWm05M7fkioHoruJafL/s320/IMG_8076.JPG" /></a>Day 1 we went to the Luxembourg gardens and palace (saw some old men playing chess and kids playing tennis), the Montparnasse cemetery, and the extremely trendy Jewish/Gay quarter with its hidden art galleries and scenic canal.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfZTgGCzm0cEQN3nVCqL1XIO7mjJmdlX6DVVQTSi2s9LvKoe_Ql2Lmnvjh7_rWdNoZBX0qYAUAaKnM0Xe02avB2IIOSxMlnfZVG7LjQVBQNcKgKShI1PNp4mtR_m78KZrYp_Avu48J_kk/s1600/IMG_8089.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 241px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484085594400547810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfZTgGCzm0cEQN3nVCqL1XIO7mjJmdlX6DVVQTSi2s9LvKoe_Ql2Lmnvjh7_rWdNoZBX0qYAUAaKnM0Xe02avB2IIOSxMlnfZVG7LjQVBQNcKgKShI1PNp4mtR_m78KZrYp_Avu48J_kk/s320/IMG_8089.JPG" /></a>Day 2 was brunch at the Mama Shelter, a very chic buffet restaurant that you have to reserve at least one week in advance. We walked off the piles of food by wandering the vastness that is Père Lachaise cemetery. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_0lk10y6h98SDVd7HhaC57RHvQO_LnggGix9LYrAs1QI4RhZjOsB9_Q0Hhb0NvOwe6wmc_Bod5ZSqjGXObwxT_kYQbd6H9b84wXXkBgTLSkS3nUC1YH-Xwp2Ky-qGDibd38Wo8heo06CN/s1600/IMG_8126.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484067663417228786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_0lk10y6h98SDVd7HhaC57RHvQO_LnggGix9LYrAs1QI4RhZjOsB9_Q0Hhb0NvOwe6wmc_Bod5ZSqjGXObwxT_kYQbd6H9b84wXXkBgTLSkS3nUC1YH-Xwp2Ky-qGDibd38Wo8heo06CN/s320/IMG_8126.JPG" /></a>There are tons of famous people buried in Père Lachaise (Apollinaire, Edith Piaf, Proust, Balzac, Jim Morrison, etc.) but it was so big we only found Proust and Morrison.<br />Then we went to the Champs-Elysées because we were told that the entire street would be blocked off for a nature display. Something like 2 million people were expected to attend and after arriving at the famous street I could believe it. There were people everywhere! It was insanity. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2oYrVl_L9vfBFLeKScYhmLj5FRs-RZn1WjqioiLfRIFLK4qALnNjEZV2DdfKCPnMc2Ryq6iqMKYRzsMc7SuFeTdYuKsT0duNgAz0ZbQvtgtckk6YNrYZcJN4BF3K1TF1tnN2KE48jyWG/s1600/IMG_8148.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 242px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484085596706692002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2oYrVl_L9vfBFLeKScYhmLj5FRs-RZn1WjqioiLfRIFLK4qALnNjEZV2DdfKCPnMc2Ryq6iqMKYRzsMc7SuFeTdYuKsT0duNgAz0ZbQvtgtckk6YNrYZcJN4BF3K1TF1tnN2KE48jyWG/s320/IMG_8148.JPG" /></a>I continued on to the Arc de Triomph (so much cooler and bigger in real life) which is located at the craziest roundabout I’ve ever seen. It’s called the Etoile (star) and has 12 streets spewing off of it. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbT21V_G8Q2chd4w8S7mofIcm0icjrI_O_r-dcf9iQugsV0NkLlgyQqofxombJIqZbNn4U7_qGUMrx8jLtVDEKWURPU-gnw_L53ANHrQrWZoyx8cX0xeAybdsKc-j58ZR9aCcgfXzhtvO/s1600/IMG_8165.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 264px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484097227461585394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbT21V_G8Q2chd4w8S7mofIcm0icjrI_O_r-dcf9iQugsV0NkLlgyQqofxombJIqZbNn4U7_qGUMrx8jLtVDEKWURPU-gnw_L53ANHrQrWZoyx8cX0xeAybdsKc-j58ZR9aCcgfXzhtvO/s320/IMG_8165.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-OEjT1Nck5cfG1CywJsLhk3A3hsrbMry6Ce3cKVx6j3TpuCsyLrsEOEXpaaxITg2qnTZJLQZ3B0tiYFmU0yOJYg4K8xozurReUwnHeMAZ4s4CDRGVT_yL29Qwf7BjCJw3gefsrxk-rk1/s1600/IMG_8197.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 251px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484067651543539410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-OEjT1Nck5cfG1CywJsLhk3A3hsrbMry6Ce3cKVx6j3TpuCsyLrsEOEXpaaxITg2qnTZJLQZ3B0tiYFmU0yOJYg4K8xozurReUwnHeMAZ4s4CDRGVT_yL29Qwf7BjCJw3gefsrxk-rk1/s320/IMG_8197.JPG" /></a>Afterwards I met another high school friend, Laura and we grabbed some Domino’s pizza for a late night picnic in the Tulieries garden at the feet of the Louvre. The best part of this night was watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle. Every night after dark on the hour for five minutes the Eiffel Tower goes all sparkly before returning to its regular old lit up self. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjYOrAuxxLnyxaPvPFVhI4JNH5iDilJtyxkMnHfSPbD5h6Ov-8sIWzfv_pJxqF0K8Aq5ZDuoJoSKpzQT4_skcgBoHgspWXZ8Xf-W0X02uGCbwoetboDv4QNl3xmore71-kAOG0VKPkbSd/s1600/IMG_8192.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 257px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484085601624636530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjYOrAuxxLnyxaPvPFVhI4JNH5iDilJtyxkMnHfSPbD5h6Ov-8sIWzfv_pJxqF0K8Aq5ZDuoJoSKpzQT4_skcgBoHgspWXZ8Xf-W0X02uGCbwoetboDv4QNl3xmore71-kAOG0VKPkbSd/s320/IMG_8192.JPG" /></a>Funny story—the Eiffel Tower was supposed to be a temporary building for the 1889 World Expo and all the Parisian’s thought it was an eye sore, but when I asked the French girls in the Foyer what their favorite landmark in Paris was all of them said they liked ”La Tour Eiffel” best. Go figure.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgVi8qmQG-a9Z3sbblgQtANM_XtA-vMnbpAH8RS0UMX-bnXoIT2kNhNe74WjeoMVv1biDUQaM2FqpxF82bNwS0OqmtIKLv9w0xbRhNbpv2dvEn4vFNyb4v1mmzD7wM32sW_IMGWrswSMB/s1600/IMG_8228.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484090027864878210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgVi8qmQG-a9Z3sbblgQtANM_XtA-vMnbpAH8RS0UMX-bnXoIT2kNhNe74WjeoMVv1biDUQaM2FqpxF82bNwS0OqmtIKLv9w0xbRhNbpv2dvEn4vFNyb4v1mmzD7wM32sW_IMGWrswSMB/s320/IMG_8228.JPG" /></a>Day 3 was the Louvre. People had warned me about its size and anyone who had lived long in Paris said it was overrated and too touristy. But there’s a reason it’s touristy. It houses the world’s finest art collection and it was fabulous. And even better I got in for free with my student card! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKfvfiyws3JQnHtf_VdKwNZv0T4wZR2dIUvUxLxmKm1xexXAPEFIUER2TetVINhWjJ5ZOJ30GLpG4CRYZg-hKJmpvXXEWUuP8mM4QJ5FZ0AcxinjV5xQJGmexhUGgD5tYyQpRbwZW2Jow_/s1600/IMG_8243.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484085612069869282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKfvfiyws3JQnHtf_VdKwNZv0T4wZR2dIUvUxLxmKm1xexXAPEFIUER2TetVINhWjJ5ZOJ30GLpG4CRYZg-hKJmpvXXEWUuP8mM4QJ5FZ0AcxinjV5xQJGmexhUGgD5tYyQpRbwZW2Jow_/s320/IMG_8243.JPG" /></a>The Louvre also happens to have one of my favorite pieces in its collection and I was determined to see it. I needn’t have worried about seeing it because it was the first thing I saw: Nike of Samothrace, or Winged Victory at the top of the grand staircase and she was beautiful. And it wouldn’t be a trip to the Louvre without seeing DaVinci’s Mona Lisa, but she’s so small and far away in her protective glass that she’s much harder to appreciate. Much more amusing is all the tourists jockeying for a better viewing position. Far more enjoyable was seeing all the neoclassical paintings from David and Delacroix.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaldMLmuKl-gqlD1Qrj8zU-nd-ORsgk4y1A82k39opcF1CQd_Nku2SUIzHYQ8TrAHw2Gm0B8RSk0Uog8DknTgqK4DGtq4fZaVp4BytX63fGHPSccy8B0QiVyqxiRqVGFQ7metfO_cMqKwe/s1600/IMG_8344.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484090045813044994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaldMLmuKl-gqlD1Qrj8zU-nd-ORsgk4y1A82k39opcF1CQd_Nku2SUIzHYQ8TrAHw2Gm0B8RSk0Uog8DknTgqK4DGtq4fZaVp4BytX63fGHPSccy8B0QiVyqxiRqVGFQ7metfO_cMqKwe/s320/IMG_8344.JPG" /></a>The museum was truly incredible, but I have to say the highlight of the entire day was dipping my feet into the Louvre fountains. There were tons of people outside the pyramid just sitting by the fountains; one girl was walking around in the fountain and most people, like me, were soaking their aching feet.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8YyO5-E5ppabqlJr80K3vcz2iZLxQ4btANZj2U9TiJL1lxOCQuQBEZuOe5oj3RtvaNV-g4iUJoUZLv0CiX3xnahKrFXZNrbnx7QAUyy7LkIyDuPolGlrLn0-us8k_gofJhp0cGt54RdIc/s1600/IMG_8314.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484090040265390306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8YyO5-E5ppabqlJr80K3vcz2iZLxQ4btANZj2U9TiJL1lxOCQuQBEZuOe5oj3RtvaNV-g4iUJoUZLv0CiX3xnahKrFXZNrbnx7QAUyy7LkIyDuPolGlrLn0-us8k_gofJhp0cGt54RdIc/s320/IMG_8314.JPG" /></a>Afterwards I walked across the Pont Neuf (New Bridge), ironically, the oldest bridge in Paris, to the Île de la Cité where the Notre Dame is located. Notre Dame was very surprisingly the only letdown of the trip. Don’t get me wrong, you should totally see it because it is still awesome. It just didn’t meet my expectations. (I blame this on my preference for all things Angevine.) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltdxvWkPEHx6yFIkgSF6YSN-VAvvfR0c6flLsBAVdpRbeIN5XjfPo52Mu21q5lOc_2GLiGjFM6LJ7XhYkxZb5cQqZOcLCmNF_8YgX8KXCPhKKtN_vNBvmJ9AxpypmDcDda9PWnmMcb1Rn/s1600/IMG_8336.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484095171794324962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltdxvWkPEHx6yFIkgSF6YSN-VAvvfR0c6flLsBAVdpRbeIN5XjfPo52Mu21q5lOc_2GLiGjFM6LJ7XhYkxZb5cQqZOcLCmNF_8YgX8KXCPhKKtN_vNBvmJ9AxpypmDcDda9PWnmMcb1Rn/s320/IMG_8336.JPG" /></a>From there I trekked to the Hôtel de Ville, Pompidou center (crazy modern museum that looks like it’s made of colorful pipes) and Rue Rivoli where the huge department stores are located and then back to the Louvre for more feet dipping.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifVZoK7ZYHu7W-eUnFIgcHSDS4l1dWf00RFCAahPPwTRSe_KM32E2fcT5n3o7bCdLR1sRNMcOoTw13jT-_ZpD1eaAmbTJk-bQ-YP6NcVTEbtOD3Bic2evLSm_S8wKq0xuZF5hyphenhyphenWGdVNAk9/s1600/IMG_8186.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484090060142292450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifVZoK7ZYHu7W-eUnFIgcHSDS4l1dWf00RFCAahPPwTRSe_KM32E2fcT5n3o7bCdLR1sRNMcOoTw13jT-_ZpD1eaAmbTJk-bQ-YP6NcVTEbtOD3Bic2evLSm_S8wKq0xuZF5hyphenhyphenWGdVNAk9/s320/IMG_8186.JPG" /></a>Side note: I was explaining to my youngest sister Emma how cool the Louvre was when she interrupted me and said, “Wait, isn’t the Louvre a bathroom?” She honestly had no idea and I couldn’t have been more dumbfounded. Seriously? You thought the Louvre was a bathroom? I get that it sounds like the Loo, but really?? It’s only like THE most famous museum in the world. It was pretty funny.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2LR5lcXFirgFEIhpESF9cdEAVVy0xj2P0GDPmO-97gQdiRvmDQ1czic5rqfgzsnRSrG809eNFF_qqAIgku9D4jjPKUgjZ67_0A2vzUBv4AnPgqb8Bc97vE7r4skbnCM-GNvAOds2SPcl/s1600/IMG_8302.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484090056302073138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2LR5lcXFirgFEIhpESF9cdEAVVy0xj2P0GDPmO-97gQdiRvmDQ1czic5rqfgzsnRSrG809eNFF_qqAIgku9D4jjPKUgjZ67_0A2vzUBv4AnPgqb8Bc97vE7r4skbnCM-GNvAOds2SPcl/s320/IMG_8302.JPG" /></a>To be continued…wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-13616001634454616222010-05-21T10:42:00.000-07:002010-05-21T11:42:38.074-07:00Monsieur, can we take a picture of your mustache?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxnAXcDcmTyGVt1de76dro5RBKUac9SN4lw7DrrAyk4P4L9rHcQj4YtvoOXWBoJnQgwEmKMVv5qu6uGYeJqtsYzsJ1AxMI4u5xV3XhL9lqzYYBK1aNUezfOJNT76GZiXsmu6RkAPvs9sqe/s1600/IMG_7834.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473782945826430706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxnAXcDcmTyGVt1de76dro5RBKUac9SN4lw7DrrAyk4P4L9rHcQj4YtvoOXWBoJnQgwEmKMVv5qu6uGYeJqtsYzsJ1AxMI4u5xV3XhL9lqzYYBK1aNUezfOJNT76GZiXsmu6RkAPvs9sqe/s320/IMG_7834.JPG" /></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><br /><div><div><br /><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8U3paJVHz72OeOxJh7bsa85DaBKYXPCQPjw4u7xzVCkV2Vg4Da9C2fBb8uQM6E_Dpsl5THVz6G48wIfrJuzzNlHVrCa3R1Ener9ZPUyaJPJG8gBj57szilX7ixc9kTd4d4x78MepGx4uZ/s1600/IMG_7748.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 236px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 174px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473788284791434674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8U3paJVHz72OeOxJh7bsa85DaBKYXPCQPjw4u7xzVCkV2Vg4Da9C2fBb8uQM6E_Dpsl5THVz6G48wIfrJuzzNlHVrCa3R1Ener9ZPUyaJPJG8gBj57szilX7ixc9kTd4d4x78MepGx4uZ/s320/IMG_7748.JPG" /></a>Things are winding down over here so I haven’t had a whole lot of time to write. But here’s a quick recap of the weekend. My friends and I had not one, but TWO picnics. The first one took place under the shade of the castle and it was so successful we planned another for the next day under the gazebo in the Jardin du Mail. We had so much food that I wasn’t even hungry for dinner. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfO4kvUqJeC26czyV_onJuceqoqyNCvyETeM4U6v_NuQOXv40Nn476DMH6hdelbN12aNB1w7Y50fA2KjBnocC7YPj2-XF1vvvcwg4WDGf175DA7LWSFC3gNd3sFEDk73rO6etoxuhtAeQ/s1600/IMG_7739.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 253px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 186px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473782939512119602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfO4kvUqJeC26czyV_onJuceqoqyNCvyETeM4U6v_NuQOXv40Nn476DMH6hdelbN12aNB1w7Y50fA2KjBnocC7YPj2-XF1vvvcwg4WDGf175DA7LWSFC3gNd3sFEDk73rO6etoxuhtAeQ/s320/IMG_7739.JPG" /></a>There were baguettes, chocolate croissants, wine, cidre, chocolate, cookies, sausage, ginger butter (like peanut butter, but it tastes like ginger snaps), and of course a variety of cheeses: brie, coulommiers, camembert, rocquefort, etc. And since we are very resourceful, poor college students we used the round cheese container as a Frisbee (I wouldn’t recommend it for distances greater than twenty feet). </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVI-6d9OwvuINyywi_NpT4CUPiJrUH8b11hpf0hm46dG6se46C5oZZqcuSUz7Mu4zICYNevWCbb_O-opXplNku00t8wF0qfRU9KjR2beTp8BSrYvuLrvfgSm_lS0mQtq-qkm6iIYsr36HZ/s1600/IMG_7793.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 277px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 209px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473788293400910354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVI-6d9OwvuINyywi_NpT4CUPiJrUH8b11hpf0hm46dG6se46C5oZZqcuSUz7Mu4zICYNevWCbb_O-opXplNku00t8wF0qfRU9KjR2beTp8BSrYvuLrvfgSm_lS0mQtq-qkm6iIYsr36HZ/s320/IMG_7793.JPG" /></a>After the second picnic we had an Angers Photo Scavenger Hunt, created by your truly. We split into two randomly selected teams and set off to take pictures with all 32 objects/places. Some of the things on the list included finding someone wearing a beret, someone with a mustache, French graffiti, French car, French phone booth, a purple flower, a snail, a happy face traffic light, French people holding up a peace sign, something with the name Angers, bridge across the river, our school, a street sign with the word “ecrivain” (writer), a fountain, etc.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hWcwPeG40tZR395H5T2DNVw8mN_ZDFLKMUsFNZvVOUEKvCc8xUNrP7jwNDGtM97I_Cgy_wzYJOaamm2y4Al6O1aIKEIi3Xb0cy17FyobduJwqhLSmHpilVod7Eo8KLQpMb4l44T1U4j8/s1600/IMG_7766.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 236px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 171px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473782968351290546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hWcwPeG40tZR395H5T2DNVw8mN_ZDFLKMUsFNZvVOUEKvCc8xUNrP7jwNDGtM97I_Cgy_wzYJOaamm2y4Al6O1aIKEIi3Xb0cy17FyobduJwqhLSmHpilVod7Eo8KLQpMb4l44T1U4j8/s320/IMG_7766.JPG" /></a> We met up at the chateau at the very end and everyone agreed it was one of their favorite things (the only thing our team couldn’t find was the happy face stoplight).<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga69dYm5zevitgfyDNrkLqbZDZGq2yGsboy3Baz-TeLt3gI_LfGcc1YRSlev0tP_8OGUJLMSYLGVOgKjWCl8RzlTjYPd4VFqEMvL0V4ohSAnJ_aaeyQD7CbLb1wKxqYPfJlBEZR9aDHC1r/s1600/IMG_7811.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473788297808895074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga69dYm5zevitgfyDNrkLqbZDZGq2yGsboy3Baz-TeLt3gI_LfGcc1YRSlev0tP_8OGUJLMSYLGVOgKjWCl8RzlTjYPd4VFqEMvL0V4ohSAnJ_aaeyQD7CbLb1wKxqYPfJlBEZR9aDHC1r/s320/IMG_7811.JPG" /></a>Today I leave for Paris! I’ll be gone for an entire week because I have yet to visit the museums and actually see the Champs de Mars and the Eiffel Tower. I’ll also be representing Merrimack at the European Writing Centers Association Conference with Professor Kathy Shine Cain, the director of Merrimack’s writing center. Our topic is “Positionality and the 21st Century Writing Center: Interdisciplinary, Transdisciplinary, and Cultural Border Crossing.” <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixvtDR-ekqrHkb5idx78hMkAqtYTblnF2GcH2bWpzrdlCsHSvc_8glhcmfrc8Vc1MAaNlQWRvnVTx2btu9Q_FTQfH7_vT7ORfJRyruTOI-6Gm4DOf2DHwDip446EkuZ-dKBVCkrZnRgPqw/s1600/IMG_7792.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 237px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473782953382255202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixvtDR-ekqrHkb5idx78hMkAqtYTblnF2GcH2bWpzrdlCsHSvc_8glhcmfrc8Vc1MAaNlQWRvnVTx2btu9Q_FTQfH7_vT7ORfJRyruTOI-6Gm4DOf2DHwDip446EkuZ-dKBVCkrZnRgPqw/s320/IMG_7792.JPG" /></a>In case that sound totally foreign to you, essentially I’m going to be talking about the different relationships in the writing center and about my experiences as a second language student. </div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3cWbgwDeITXtbuD_zUxZ2s5_MgZ_EFYxMfnjmTHe0IyVh6XkUwwj8wdWvxOcF2oK9zFngNTrGeokNhkwDWWyeCRxLLlGQKv-g0kYek7a2fW5Jk6z5z290ppUSNfqYcfmR8UQ3CgdS6YZ/s1600/IMG_7825.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473789487295706002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3cWbgwDeITXtbuD_zUxZ2s5_MgZ_EFYxMfnjmTHe0IyVh6XkUwwj8wdWvxOcF2oK9zFngNTrGeokNhkwDWWyeCRxLLlGQKv-g0kYek7a2fW5Jk6z5z290ppUSNfqYcfmR8UQ3CgdS6YZ/s320/IMG_7825.JPG" /></a>Wish me bonne chance!</div><div> </div><div>Heidi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjethmJRwO4KnJ8PecP2Nc5oWFzXFTuaeGDu6zT0Ix1s4kAXmUx3nhChELk1ZecQdYDl3ri-gnEXY87aJTVPn7Izs5O7JVjKCe3ljtTeuATqHwb6gF72bu7Cn9vwU4cQelkKfxJbNWfzL3S/s1600/IMG_7805.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473782959470569314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjethmJRwO4KnJ8PecP2Nc5oWFzXFTuaeGDu6zT0Ix1s4kAXmUx3nhChELk1ZecQdYDl3ri-gnEXY87aJTVPn7Izs5O7JVjKCe3ljtTeuATqHwb6gF72bu7Cn9vwU4cQelkKfxJbNWfzL3S/s320/IMG_7805.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2j478s5YjKcSFiuS_aes3wpmVbOhz5nbkJe2mDC56WHmVaJq1opz4O73hvwy8mXYk6jHdxP_Bam7UazP0J-QrNRyF75VRiz6zibF6hpXAmrFKT9NXLrnyVLy2It_o97eB1SCMCxy_GYTS/s1600/IMG_7560.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473789482404971538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2j478s5YjKcSFiuS_aes3wpmVbOhz5nbkJe2mDC56WHmVaJq1opz4O73hvwy8mXYk6jHdxP_Bam7UazP0J-QrNRyF75VRiz6zibF6hpXAmrFKT9NXLrnyVLy2It_o97eB1SCMCxy_GYTS/s320/IMG_7560.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjav8trziTSvr7ptpXwXTcTH9qD2SycRBSpk-WhxI5iULbDvgOcrfSqoMsHdbdkuSQsLUYJDBlxUGDkNhRl_9vAhV-ymFROTLEPoQeIOYaXRIqZXfFXBN-ebjRuJ106fAkVn_9y0lTBhbyG/s1600/IMG_7783.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473789497799514850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjav8trziTSvr7ptpXwXTcTH9qD2SycRBSpk-WhxI5iULbDvgOcrfSqoMsHdbdkuSQsLUYJDBlxUGDkNhRl_9vAhV-ymFROTLEPoQeIOYaXRIqZXfFXBN-ebjRuJ106fAkVn_9y0lTBhbyG/s320/IMG_7783.JPG" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-48245228243101082432010-05-12T12:15:00.000-07:002010-05-13T04:47:00.450-07:00Madeleines!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUtfn1TWykacFLRVFKZnmLEHjOrj0Fz-VzGeQCtakh64OSUzfGIVR7fp_EHE2gN3D7uc_kgKx9wANkOJbYeiyYYkU8KuMc96LtVx_7bxtDxevcX6TEJfAoeovUuw5rp_Xqjwf_C3FqnAG5/s1600/IMG_7596.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470715267953348578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUtfn1TWykacFLRVFKZnmLEHjOrj0Fz-VzGeQCtakh64OSUzfGIVR7fp_EHE2gN3D7uc_kgKx9wANkOJbYeiyYYkU8KuMc96LtVx_7bxtDxevcX6TEJfAoeovUuw5rp_Xqjwf_C3FqnAG5/s320/IMG_7596.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />“In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines lived 12 little girls in two straight lines…”<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1IiEVdzhYaa2jysmopwRyjsXffeaSqgzZ93rYFxijzIryxbzckSI6KKnstlzaZrEqEuHCAuV4wZfUW54wVN4ELAbEDUaxDA7DoSGta1h1t6MzuVs35ZQIjVAXR8MaGG3jhriYXCLawwr/s1600/madeline.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 222px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 157px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470715921432767682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1IiEVdzhYaa2jysmopwRyjsXffeaSqgzZ93rYFxijzIryxbzckSI6KKnstlzaZrEqEuHCAuV4wZfUW54wVN4ELAbEDUaxDA7DoSGta1h1t6MzuVs35ZQIjVAXR8MaGG3jhriYXCLawwr/s320/madeline.jpg" /></a><br />If you’ve never read the children’s book <em>Madeline</em> (1939) by Ludwig Bemelmans you will have no idea what I’m talking about, but that just gives you an excuse to find it at your local library or bookstore. But surprise, surprise this entry is about madeleines and not Madeline.<br /><br />Madeleines are shell shaped cookies that taste more life a muffin or miniature cake than a cookie. They are a French classics and so last weekend I decided to make some. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MfaktN4n6xWMOxJBD7Xy7lXLV2orrE-79I8O1T123Y9jIqEz-S0IIrq0SyZnajNnYiNa77GIDTMSZHh02axR5FgjHF1ZLaaUsC5PKbfHctlTbzrU49ayJe8Ydnq-TMdZa_2KHGq6FZ0B/s1600/me+making+madeleines.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470715274503104530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MfaktN4n6xWMOxJBD7Xy7lXLV2orrE-79I8O1T123Y9jIqEz-S0IIrq0SyZnajNnYiNa77GIDTMSZHh02axR5FgjHF1ZLaaUsC5PKbfHctlTbzrU49ayJe8Ydnq-TMdZa_2KHGq6FZ0B/s320/me+making+madeleines.bmp" /></a>The first batch didn’t turn out so great, but after adjusting the oven settings they were fine. The madeleines were surprisingly easy to make, minus the difficulties with the oven. All you need are:<br />1 c. sugar<br />1 c. butter (melted)<br />1 c. flour<br />2 eggs<br />Mix the ingredients together. (The consistency should have a bit of hold to it, but not too soupy. Adding some water or milk will make the batter less thick.)<br />Bake at 425 °F for 8-12 min or until golden. And voilà, la madeleine!<br />(You can also add a bit of vanilla or orange zest if you’d like.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1qum7W0PGrjqiVe7arkk1o_08NFiJCtzzRLFAu2ySfAE_odhPy9zRwKhiYrXY0VdEFH3vUiLAAHJYClZw6JYdBt6mr9QoYV5ob0JUdIyrRR2A1-tnnhwL8zBtIN8CdX3DVmUlo5hyMqHD/s1600/baking+madeleines.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 259px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470715910998570130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1qum7W0PGrjqiVe7arkk1o_08NFiJCtzzRLFAu2ySfAE_odhPy9zRwKhiYrXY0VdEFH3vUiLAAHJYClZw6JYdBt6mr9QoYV5ob0JUdIyrRR2A1-tnnhwL8zBtIN8CdX3DVmUlo5hyMqHD/s320/baking+madeleines.bmp" /></a>They’re pretty hard to mess up, even my first batch tasted good, though it wasn’t entirely baked through to the bottom. The French girls nearly died of laughter when they saw my first miserable attempt, but I think I earned their respect after the second batch. I’ll bet even Marcel Proust* would approve of my “petites madeleines.”<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zSjqMGdjtDzli2USXn69oEXXWQ410yr-WLwSS74kxu8YuU8X6NCEhsIRkXde0OddwCJf7HqzABXKlAaQ18rhyphenhyphengNTgevEUhypuNqXTomMYeRxAckpso2Xcrwo6cQrnJ7x2197w_5PDYhv/s1600/madeleines+close+up.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470715280651214226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zSjqMGdjtDzli2USXn69oEXXWQ410yr-WLwSS74kxu8YuU8X6NCEhsIRkXde0OddwCJf7HqzABXKlAaQ18rhyphenhyphengNTgevEUhypuNqXTomMYeRxAckpso2Xcrwo6cQrnJ7x2197w_5PDYhv/s320/madeleines+close+up.jpg" /></a>As for this weekend, it’s the Pont de l’Ascension (Bridge of Ascension) which is celebrated 40 days after Easter. The reason it is called a bridge is because the holiday occurs on a Thursday, but the French bridge over to the weekend and take off Friday as well. Yay! Four day weekend for me! I’m not traveling this weekend so I’m looking forward to relaxing in Angers. Some friends and I are supposed to have a picnic with baguettes and cheese.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfF4ahjGbihaNKfJ6JPqFkhPxlhCFPiZo3zqUy5PmoViE7evrU8cgZhGEm2e_W4QV5oZXdsOyTVRDsND9bl0FYQjU0NA6yIxicwRyMJ9ceXk37c1UJvxE9TOMiHRJzCyhfEaRsajRVJdM/s1600/lauren+me+and+wild+flowers.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470716462568273138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfF4ahjGbihaNKfJ6JPqFkhPxlhCFPiZo3zqUy5PmoViE7evrU8cgZhGEm2e_W4QV5oZXdsOyTVRDsND9bl0FYQjU0NA6yIxicwRyMJ9ceXk37c1UJvxE9TOMiHRJzCyhfEaRsajRVJdM/s320/lauren+me+and+wild+flowers.jpg" /></a>Hoping for some sunshine!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLoy1Vloumwg_2Zattj90JuqnFcf2DGo_jjViDW0jA5BpRnq5LLL0QSC6QZ4RRKBlOdbejmwQm7q_CuwvP0HDsjRf70Z0lB2vHSE21nD7nvm13dSJsgmkgN5yAg19438nCBkXynMygo6xM/s1600/lauren+me+and+wild+flowers.jpg"></a>Heidi<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*Marcel Proust was a 20th century French writer who was famous for writing about his memories of eating madeleines. In fact, this deliciously simple cookie is often referred to as "la petite madeleine de Proust" (Proust's little madeleine).wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-19251833040248469962010-05-02T14:41:00.000-07:002010-05-03T15:05:39.717-07:00The Nun and the Muguet<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5rjJFhNyMP0gF89ARHbWPptBywVF_mrzJ8dbbH-kmHel-yQSyceb4nr66c00WVJHnzUdTxjFB27gTypRq_E9Xai0Oi7Lpxxjdjq-gT-hpCptOqmS5fVssDxPqeGjHC4vcuLE7PnOy-Ls/s1600/IMG_7588.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467165622830960834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5rjJFhNyMP0gF89ARHbWPptBywVF_mrzJ8dbbH-kmHel-yQSyceb4nr66c00WVJHnzUdTxjFB27gTypRq_E9Xai0Oi7Lpxxjdjq-gT-hpCptOqmS5fVssDxPqeGjHC4vcuLE7PnOy-Ls/s320/IMG_7588.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5rjJFhNyMP0gF89ARHbWPptBywVF_mrzJ8dbbH-kmHel-yQSyceb4nr66c00WVJHnzUdTxjFB27gTypRq_E9Xai0Oi7Lpxxjdjq-gT-hpCptOqmS5fVssDxPqeGjHC4vcuLE7PnOy-Ls/s1600/IMG_7588.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5rjJFhNyMP0gF89ARHbWPptBywVF_mrzJ8dbbH-kmHel-yQSyceb4nr66c00WVJHnzUdTxjFB27gTypRq_E9Xai0Oi7Lpxxjdjq-gT-hpCptOqmS5fVssDxPqeGjHC4vcuLE7PnOy-Ls/s1600/IMG_7588.JPG"></a><br />I was on my way to meet some friends at the castle for lunch and a bible study when I was stopped by an elderly nun. She offered me a sprig of <em>muguet</em> (Lily of the Valley) and told me, "It's for you." I thanked her, wished her good day and then watched as she continued down the road. It was such a simple, but beautiful gesture. I was so touched.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNRt-0gl61YhWZNtASi1hvHLyrsIC92DTztnHeBBXweKeUy2qlZ1sCIAYjpZpbAxdzodyFkIpQ5NKMgSOXuJwv8Aqa6jT8M8LVmFe71Ypuh_oUQgGOYofOhRt6OxkbDzYScdfXL7rhLrY/s1600/IMG_7586.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkjDs_57ZxCjr_TYqwuCHSS6ebpHbVCwe9do5CjKTW8PvIiNqfdMr_I2E0pGRLMK2eNvEbvsD6jjFBZ3mu8ftVgMum_53Ep67rvI4B_tc79P100EqBxR8gZKJtYrAjGkO3F6M9IsRMbkp/s1600/IMG_7586.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467165883608776994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkjDs_57ZxCjr_TYqwuCHSS6ebpHbVCwe9do5CjKTW8PvIiNqfdMr_I2E0pGRLMK2eNvEbvsD6jjFBZ3mu8ftVgMum_53Ep67rvI4B_tc79P100EqBxR8gZKJtYrAjGkO3F6M9IsRMbkp/s320/IMG_7586.JPG" /></a>Giving <em>muguet</em> is traditional for the Fête du Travail (Labor day) which is May 1 for basically every country except the US and Canada. I never expected I would be a recipient of the <em>muguet</em>, but I was and it was perfect. I hadn't had anything to bring to the luncheon so I felt it was only right to pass on the good luck and leave the sprig with my friends. But that one act was so heartwarming I felt wonderful for the rest of the day. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6J4p80mRKkIhysSKvmN3eR1jv-9hAEi51Xe9VIt3RG2G2yYlireBY44RrlAKHzx_EZGDTKmAdMgtNqUGA4b2rpZ2HRM1pCRqfsJw6YuxhUlcm3MBF7ZuDE2Rp7L6qqxJbLSn_xypDhng/s1600/IMG_6198.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467167287439235410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6J4p80mRKkIhysSKvmN3eR1jv-9hAEi51Xe9VIt3RG2G2yYlireBY44RrlAKHzx_EZGDTKmAdMgtNqUGA4b2rpZ2HRM1pCRqfsJw6YuxhUlcm3MBF7ZuDE2Rp7L6qqxJbLSn_xypDhng/s320/IMG_6198.JPG" /></a>It just goes to show that small acts of kindness are bigger than they seem.<br /><br />Many Blessings!<br /><br />Heidiwroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-26840590456801910542010-04-30T12:15:00.000-07:002010-05-07T00:38:06.562-07:00Flanders Day 5: “Partir, c’est mourir un peu”<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGbOhyphenhyphenZYhArpfjxYl_Ai2ggudCfCTEkhpYPzaYVYtdQA7S2M2emVOjJfVnpoWW-wAAeNf_Akhe5rhhxXz_nibFzhre1h2iVofCSDmj3Z12nj_Qtuc2v3OUVFpOacYnxb8DJaA9Zy6V1gd/s1600/IMG_7520.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467874479494188658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGbOhyphenhyphenZYhArpfjxYl_Ai2ggudCfCTEkhpYPzaYVYtdQA7S2M2emVOjJfVnpoWW-wAAeNf_Akhe5rhhxXz_nibFzhre1h2iVofCSDmj3Z12nj_Qtuc2v3OUVFpOacYnxb8DJaA9Zy6V1gd/s320/IMG_7520.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN_CaWCqQfxZAolawm1IxIZssVZJ0SmTVsCG4E22nt47EKnkQ_f-HSQnsPtd_y8RBi-AkCep_olsfQ5EVoP7GkmWMYEcDlCawhaFn90YdFkiupGSWhbTbzJQbmMQjj0RCTRow-w1LOzcy3/s1600/IMG_7517.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467876304235258002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN_CaWCqQfxZAolawm1IxIZssVZJ0SmTVsCG4E22nt47EKnkQ_f-HSQnsPtd_y8RBi-AkCep_olsfQ5EVoP7GkmWMYEcDlCawhaFn90YdFkiupGSWhbTbzJQbmMQjj0RCTRow-w1LOzcy3/s320/IMG_7517.JPG" /></a>I’m sitting on the TGV watching the beautiful countryside pass me by as the sun slowly sets. The fields are emerald green and vibrant yellow and the trees are covered in leaves. Currently, I’m listening to Dr. Dog’s “Where’d All the Time Go” and reflecting on my adventures…</div><div><br />This morning Rik and I went for a walk by the lake and we were lucky enough to see lots of nesting birds with their followings of ducklings. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVoEEs3-zK_VS69TSJjzm1V9mTbprYt36ISknoxYbj5JFZHwRE4GrKUnB_982HrDEbQQ240E1qHwpv_z1s8rpG9K7OYBkcrIPsNB0woJDy_oJK_B21Ck5XW4Karfg6113bFo0HOOKVu0I/s1600/IMG_7518.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 245px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467874466882754306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVoEEs3-zK_VS69TSJjzm1V9mTbprYt36ISknoxYbj5JFZHwRE4GrKUnB_982HrDEbQQ240E1qHwpv_z1s8rpG9K7OYBkcrIPsNB0woJDy_oJK_B21Ck5XW4Karfg6113bFo0HOOKVu0I/s320/IMG_7518.JPG" /></a>I was so content not to go to another museum or see another old building. Though it’s wonderful seeing historic buildings and ancient artifacts, no man-made object can ever replace the beauty of nature. </div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZN_zoAwHl4JUpfhztNtJSScZ1GRsjmd-S5dcWwtWpTBluod1iuk8nIPWAZetKzHUyIJZV61pfxKpRCufrxgsV54zsi-0r1zi6q37s210eO1CKe_kliLA3lZxZjfev5khoxvDhwoUSX1P_/s1600/IMG_7174.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 236px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467876317107071890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZN_zoAwHl4JUpfhztNtJSScZ1GRsjmd-S5dcWwtWpTBluod1iuk8nIPWAZetKzHUyIJZV61pfxKpRCufrxgsV54zsi-0r1zi6q37s210eO1CKe_kliLA3lZxZjfev5khoxvDhwoUSX1P_/s320/IMG_7174.JPG" /></a>After the walk and some lunch it was time to say goodbye. At the train station I ate my first (and hopefully not last) scrumptious Belgian waffle. Rik said I reminded him of Philine, his granddaughter, because that was the first and last thing she always did.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgizRAb_ljb8gvTPLu6ETzWR4NcImJLVtjB6ME59W9uhrD8wm8Wve4H0VcMdX8NosoePyTEOGNOpCX4mqrzUiNh5U0sYNNQUUP0dONLNRqjtpI1T1mX0-XsnAsIGzxM8PF32C863EYnkA8k/s1600/IMG_7524.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 251px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 165px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467874463182950914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgizRAb_ljb8gvTPLu6ETzWR4NcImJLVtjB6ME59W9uhrD8wm8Wve4H0VcMdX8NosoePyTEOGNOpCX4mqrzUiNh5U0sYNNQUUP0dONLNRqjtpI1T1mX0-XsnAsIGzxM8PF32C863EYnkA8k/s320/IMG_7524.JPG" /></a>My observations on Belgium:</div><div><br />1. People are more willing to speak English than in France or Norway (Norwegians speak English well, but they’re just more shy about it).</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjsL-g7zty6cJfQYJQONNRQBXMsXEVkq8E2EOpdOz8hVPkiG11Usp3yPLI8Fju2gateDJCFR4vB-n3lCo7Xze_JyguDV0tsw0P4ssMMaHUkWPMIBSinxX31EEQ-TkTh1xgF8UfQbxNxui/s1600/IMG_7310.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467876310366093986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjsL-g7zty6cJfQYJQONNRQBXMsXEVkq8E2EOpdOz8hVPkiG11Usp3yPLI8Fju2gateDJCFR4vB-n3lCo7Xze_JyguDV0tsw0P4ssMMaHUkWPMIBSinxX31EEQ-TkTh1xgF8UfQbxNxui/s320/IMG_7310.JPG" /></a>2. Most people in Belgium speak about 3-4 languages: Flemish, Dutch (because it is almost the same as Flemish), French, English and German are the primary ones.</div><div><br />3. Each type of liquid (be it water or beer) is served in a different type of bottle and glass. There’s SO many varieties of beer which is astonishing because it means that for every single type there is a different bottle and different glass with that type of beer's name on it. Yikes. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW20kBsZiix8KFyHb8zmiyNjezG_GJS7PxR5AH3tZmZDxdCYVAgKSRGGp_gXzxcynFnVKJcYZhMaoo1k-5X58QQB-Y0XH-5nMXX1XG3Pea_iSQizwYLgppF9Ul5MIY1pE_YYcyx45XnTUS/s1600/IMG_7311.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 223px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 164px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467874453315298082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW20kBsZiix8KFyHb8zmiyNjezG_GJS7PxR5AH3tZmZDxdCYVAgKSRGGp_gXzxcynFnVKJcYZhMaoo1k-5X58QQB-Y0XH-5nMXX1XG3Pea_iSQizwYLgppF9Ul5MIY1pE_YYcyx45XnTUS/s320/IMG_7311.JPG" /></a>4. Kriek is one of the most popular drinks, especially for girls. It’s a very sweet, fruity and delicious cherry beer. </div><div><br />5. There are lots of similarities between Flemish and English and I think it would be easier to pick up than Norwegian. For example, “dank u” is “thank you” and “goeiemorgen” is “good morning.” </div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghczByy_V8wc6hrCoynGmPutOn0TaUwZ9nWcNktCYLvGDOXtkWpydf9nsYTIcyLZueqzrgRSr-JbgATXs8jecVipXFhwCPzPDpn_qHxY5Of-PMLHauj_AHCjcLopXkztEMWtQKy2K5BshB/s1600/IMG_7506.JPG"></a><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9w4zM_KQERPCCAx9PD8j1bO4mQaazIufuRwxFAWhV2LApwyHVj_UhchO8T7FisVNjuCjPqNiPjspPqzL1WfdMX6C1WPLTQODOVhJnNgQ22rC_-U_gl3busbGfXfAm7EZBGUlyv73Q3T0W/s1600/IMG_7506.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 229px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 175px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467876334099040706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9w4zM_KQERPCCAx9PD8j1bO4mQaazIufuRwxFAWhV2LApwyHVj_UhchO8T7FisVNjuCjPqNiPjspPqzL1WfdMX6C1WPLTQODOVhJnNgQ22rC_-U_gl3busbGfXfAm7EZBGUlyv73Q3T0W/s320/IMG_7506.JPG" /></a>6. I have never seen so many bicycles in one place in my entire life. If anyone has ever lost a bike or had one stolen...it's probably here. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVMPSty9dwTvYrjqs3bWf1Kuv-IkbAr7G2ViXx545XcUS3wwflLNB-lZCevtUd3HLUfZPDh1GnLKFq3Njf_ktxNRPcAgf4_zAVP43JyovcrcjQX2C5iRcviiQvmZKgvmKlxCgcB2JBuQU/s1600/IMG_7534.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 243px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 171px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467877603070231026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVMPSty9dwTvYrjqs3bWf1Kuv-IkbAr7G2ViXx545XcUS3wwflLNB-lZCevtUd3HLUfZPDh1GnLKFq3Njf_ktxNRPcAgf4_zAVP43JyovcrcjQX2C5iRcviiQvmZKgvmKlxCgcB2JBuQU/s320/IMG_7534.JPG" /></a>Living with the Verbekes was like living with a French family. I went from speaking a ton of English and almost no Norwegian to speaking a ton of French and almost no English. This spring break was marvelous and I’m so grateful that I was able to stay with both the Brunvolls and the Verbekes. </div><div><br />Vaarwel! (for now)<br /></div><div>Heidi<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEVs2peLWCh3Q-OhWOA3nOnkFsM0rU8OU0sK-ergUzwIf-nhqEVxmlJsty5GixSZdXHVZSVjd2IrVf8yvq6sIT8NUmMYWMAK6c8Z2rSOAdzzwPHD5_9EkqcKI4c_qoDOOU3xRyNEa8ZQ0S/s1600/IMG_7542.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 244px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467877608388988066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEVs2peLWCh3Q-OhWOA3nOnkFsM0rU8OU0sK-ergUzwIf-nhqEVxmlJsty5GixSZdXHVZSVjd2IrVf8yvq6sIT8NUmMYWMAK6c8Z2rSOAdzzwPHD5_9EkqcKI4c_qoDOOU3xRyNEa8ZQ0S/s320/IMG_7542.JPG" /></a>Sidenotes:<br /></div><div>1. Made it to Lille-Flandres station and saw the cathedral there, but then almost missed my train from Paris to Angers because I thought I could walk from the Gare du Nord to the Gare Montparnasse in an hour and a half. (Yes, that was a dumb idea, but hey, I figured out why subways are such a good idea.) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7pmyApIbhegz2WXVzDcjeflQCUq6sN89g_lJhmg87xKK17XXGXf3E5HB8syqGKo0FmQ0HorV7y8i8kCtMFEJK38uEZlw8F0MRqzvTRfxglNiZu-i-bm2JotMxVhYI0G_gu8Ri0WsaQGP/s1600/IMG_7547.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 177px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467876327048808978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7pmyApIbhegz2WXVzDcjeflQCUq6sN89g_lJhmg87xKK17XXGXf3E5HB8syqGKo0FmQ0HorV7y8i8kCtMFEJK38uEZlw8F0MRqzvTRfxglNiZu-i-bm2JotMxVhYI0G_gu8Ri0WsaQGP/s320/IMG_7547.JPG" /></a>Word to the wise, don’t attempt it. Especially if you’re carrying 80 pounds on your back.<br /></div><div></div><div>2. I was so happy to be back in Angers! It has really come to feel like home.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2daYnDt24GlROkgZLL2sjyLKGRNke4cnm8zpa45sJNvbTHWtMP-X5Bp8umCC9CoFYWMH2kv3CnlS_AaVTfL_IZFYZ-c8UajXmcd7AtODqUJ3ODeBu9yA5V3p8tnP2pki6fDIqIrQ2aA__/s1600/IMG_7556.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 246px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 175px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467877617547178642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2daYnDt24GlROkgZLL2sjyLKGRNke4cnm8zpa45sJNvbTHWtMP-X5Bp8umCC9CoFYWMH2kv3CnlS_AaVTfL_IZFYZ-c8UajXmcd7AtODqUJ3ODeBu9yA5V3p8tnP2pki6fDIqIrQ2aA__/s320/IMG_7556.JPG" /></a>3. The quote at the top means: “To leave is to die a little.”<br /></div><div></div><div>4. Dr Dog’s “Where’d All the Time Go”: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0f5MHtm63k">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0f5MHtm63k</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg92dKU3PBjDGesc6CYdf0RgSrLfBZGG3nCMqFhMRz_TgromDFNzyiWWE-TNh95pjeOscvwwoXLmgBtk1VekqH8jMwhGPJpVJL02VC6kaZINObOJRJz6tN-AxlnAwA3jh-KgfQWp5bOHP6w/s1600/IMG_7555.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467877609420175746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg92dKU3PBjDGesc6CYdf0RgSrLfBZGG3nCMqFhMRz_TgromDFNzyiWWE-TNh95pjeOscvwwoXLmgBtk1VekqH8jMwhGPJpVJL02VC6kaZINObOJRJz6tN-AxlnAwA3jh-KgfQWp5bOHP6w/s320/IMG_7555.JPG" /></a></div><div></div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-83445660405067729202010-04-29T00:29:00.000-07:002010-05-07T00:32:49.832-07:00Flanders Day 4: Brussels—Capital of Europe<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbUrH_Yi3XhYi4Z7HC41EeA63tX6obVF5C1QYShuNPQ9Eh2ZBz90sd4a8OEV6s1qwm7g922oG0i55XcW7k3OljA_mEiwnlfelLYQkWJrUqi8WfwEi-w05uNT9gdwcAH7wrzFyx4ozM6y4/s1600/IMG_7241.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467688113224450770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbUrH_Yi3XhYi4Z7HC41EeA63tX6obVF5C1QYShuNPQ9Eh2ZBz90sd4a8OEV6s1qwm7g922oG0i55XcW7k3OljA_mEiwnlfelLYQkWJrUqi8WfwEi-w05uNT9gdwcAH7wrzFyx4ozM6y4/s320/IMG_7241.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7L8CAnrlzsi5wcjwAVpbRQGJbqEYDVMF-cP4BjkI5787lyfmhwEjTDv0ZYrdfGDua0BrPPKkDk-eMe6YS4YID1iVRN1KDTpAk3lkSkIAp0MfGc2vpcnqduPFVDoaKJvd1LE__ZZrSz7Ok/s1600/IMG_7249.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsKAS0fYUrx8NrEkHdE4mZ5MOY8XhZG4-5jqJpypESQMA2z1el5AX-pJh9f0I1oj-JaGdBby1tjUkvfCcGhDDcXsNeLdvY61n_5PIktEBKVMR327_XumSfzbk5s5aQc1jl-nx9qHEyrIA/s1600/IMG_7249.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 245px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467732933232440674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsKAS0fYUrx8NrEkHdE4mZ5MOY8XhZG4-5jqJpypESQMA2z1el5AX-pJh9f0I1oj-JaGdBby1tjUkvfCcGhDDcXsNeLdvY61n_5PIktEBKVMR327_XumSfzbk5s5aQc1jl-nx9qHEyrIA/s320/IMG_7249.JPG" /></a>Headed for the train station once again, but this time we were going in the opposite direction towards Brussels, the seat of the European Union. We got off at the Brussel-Centraal station one of three different train stations you can get off at. (The double “aa” isn’t a mistake. Lots of words in Belgium have “aa.”) This can be very confusing and with my recent train luck it’s a good thing Rik was there. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunvbCOHsrv-wc4Ile8CL4vVX4kqMlRk-wRDsSBRvlPzMNLoEcxXbqVh9hNt1oRszOO02EfQdUxlRH4L6dQAqwWjH5r5RN2bzCY4845oWsmxE4rB9m2_FnyvFtaC8Kw8ZxhrIUI48Fx6sJ/s1600/IMG_7234.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467688103008064818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunvbCOHsrv-wc4Ile8CL4vVX4kqMlRk-wRDsSBRvlPzMNLoEcxXbqVh9hNt1oRszOO02EfQdUxlRH4L6dQAqwWjH5r5RN2bzCY4845oWsmxE4rB9m2_FnyvFtaC8Kw8ZxhrIUI48Fx6sJ/s320/IMG_7234.JPG" /></a>First stop: the Grand Place. A large flower market dominates the center, but the buildings surrounding it were highly impressive. We found the Hôtel de Ville, which resembles a church, and signed up for a guided tour. The ticket also got us into the Museum of Costumes & Lace and King’s House Museum, which is directly opposite the Hôtel de Ville, for free. The Museum of Costumes had a special exhibit on clothes from the 60s and the dresses and lace were just too cool. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVgAl7TgH56Z8tRgTxN8pBO05H_7C8DD-dBv8LhX-stWJ6potThzRAfZo20zveufBLP6rjarCopSesU2itZcIUZbafake0SI7Y8sid2W71YUQTzqyrXaIYfRDAvU79NKyvBSiWOuS8MT3q/s1600/IMG_7254.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 219px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 168px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467689049047888994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVgAl7TgH56Z8tRgTxN8pBO05H_7C8DD-dBv8LhX-stWJ6potThzRAfZo20zveufBLP6rjarCopSesU2itZcIUZbafake0SI7Y8sid2W71YUQTzqyrXaIYfRDAvU79NKyvBSiWOuS8MT3q/s320/IMG_7254.JPG" /></a>It was a quick visit because we needed to get to our tour at the Hôtel de Ville. </div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXCSyk5a04UsJakWlleokKC2CXxKvOI0OVSzEwzRwMSCXRXzv_eXQPzgxMauPeAsHCeAWOdlZhZo0GYIwNqlqWUyEq-_UAfcUd7vIW2-I-731212TszKvoA1De0dvFX55ESPtQ98AH5wP/s1600/IMG_7285.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467690327092227906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXCSyk5a04UsJakWlleokKC2CXxKvOI0OVSzEwzRwMSCXRXzv_eXQPzgxMauPeAsHCeAWOdlZhZo0GYIwNqlqWUyEq-_UAfcUd7vIW2-I-731212TszKvoA1De0dvFX55ESPtQ98AH5wP/s320/IMG_7285.JPG" /></a>During the tour, we saw various portraits of famous personages, like Napoleon Bonaparte, and the different rooms where affairs of the state take place, the Board room and Marriage room. I learned that Brussels was attacked by Louis XIV and in the process part of the Hotel de Ville was destroyed. On top of the tower is Saint Michel and his figure is located everywhere throughout Brussels because he is Brussels’ patron saint.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcYeAj02OXkwmg4F7NTwZWJBCIRyOEsxX-FZ1ZsWEui87juxTe06SKScQwt0ySN-ONnJKsDzLQvvuPFEchtoMTx7272thO0PBHPPkgA7TkCOK4npVuDjlymEqhm7ipyBipwDOMzUMX1rg/s1600/IMG_7319.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 224px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467689036882812162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcYeAj02OXkwmg4F7NTwZWJBCIRyOEsxX-FZ1ZsWEui87juxTe06SKScQwt0ySN-ONnJKsDzLQvvuPFEchtoMTx7272thO0PBHPPkgA7TkCOK4npVuDjlymEqhm7ipyBipwDOMzUMX1rg/s320/IMG_7319.JPG" /></a> </div><br /><div>Second stop: the King’s House. Inside were paintings and sketches of Brussels through the ages. But the best part was the display of Manneken Pis (in Dutch: Little boy peeing). Manneken Pis is a small fountain a block from the Grand Place and it is a HUGE tourist attraction. At the museum they had his entire wardrobe and jeesh does he have a lot of clothes, over 800 outfits. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVvbcWftAV4fcooAqLkm4naRSNhFVXy5fbvWyXe4jfcPr6teybbOHd091Ge2aW5flth5Z6J7fmSQ2DuYsxw_ePXpQl2hajLxjGfqXiwKjzhkARbGeG9SbQ8EZZqfD_syeWzXkvRp_elzc/s1600/IMG_7299.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 236px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467688135180684658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVvbcWftAV4fcooAqLkm4naRSNhFVXy5fbvWyXe4jfcPr6teybbOHd091Ge2aW5flth5Z6J7fmSQ2DuYsxw_ePXpQl2hajLxjGfqXiwKjzhkARbGeG9SbQ8EZZqfD_syeWzXkvRp_elzc/s320/IMG_7299.JPG" /></a>I’m definitely jealous. He has costumes from everywhere and impersonates SO many people. The townspeople have dressed him up as Elvis, Mozart, Nelson Mandela, a Native American, an FBI agent, Dracula, a bunch of balloons, a German, a Thailander, etc. After seeing all the costumes we went to see the little man. </div><div></div><br /><div>We were in luck because there was a lady in the middle of changing his clothes so I got a before-and-after shot. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUAem2tyFNIQm_OoYf60BedjQA18gBpKaOSiAfRG2IBZ3nJQxqD4Z-b69VBz_085NA-zlfCq8Kk1Rcty3E_XcdQOC6DW_8fh9m2sglxrHQsLKIFSz2ZQkk4YQYNDv7FWTERGWa5ETdBtsq/s1600/IMG_7307.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467689024272145954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUAem2tyFNIQm_OoYf60BedjQA18gBpKaOSiAfRG2IBZ3nJQxqD4Z-b69VBz_085NA-zlfCq8Kk1Rcty3E_XcdQOC6DW_8fh9m2sglxrHQsLKIFSz2ZQkk4YQYNDv7FWTERGWa5ETdBtsq/s320/IMG_7307.JPG" /></a>On this day he was from Portugal. The minute she finished and turned on the fountain, there was a raucous applause and the French man next to me declared, “Ça va mieux!” (That’s much better!). His statement was hilarious because in the museum we’d seen a film from the 90s showing different tourists’ reactions to the fountain and his response would have fit perfectly into the documentary. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI6SvoY5Rw2c6X59wtvz1YkGNKHTTRRyeXzj1tpiATkQ0QYLZh6fdR2aaZRAH54f9EdMNSIv6LPVD79LD-MH9ZGnhotqXlq2fXD-bsSP50WR2JVQmeOTZ6NKK6H8x3-UULUA-nW7owQ4Rg/s1600/IMG_7324.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 247px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467688118159161330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI6SvoY5Rw2c6X59wtvz1YkGNKHTTRRyeXzj1tpiATkQ0QYLZh6fdR2aaZRAH54f9EdMNSIv6LPVD79LD-MH9ZGnhotqXlq2fXD-bsSP50WR2JVQmeOTZ6NKK6H8x3-UULUA-nW7owQ4Rg/s320/IMG_7324.JPG" /></a>Third stop: the Royal Palace and Brussels park. The present Royal Family doesn’t use it as a Royal residence, but it was still neat to see it. In fact the king lives in another castle (at Laken) which is in a suburb of Brussels. Brussels Park was so different from the French gardens. French gardens are well planned while this Belgian park still had some wildness about it. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIUC28iTWWdhlzhycQiaeKGENSXdsf1geZZZJZJ6W2D2hCrhWOavzaRGtjxo_DkCXa16TcwYXk4dR4c1MJLfbh9Uct6glr9ZPslbUWNwa9WYMFrvGBJdEwJSJZdDsExupQFIypFcgQfb3M/s1600/IMG_7389.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467690339207176018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIUC28iTWWdhlzhycQiaeKGENSXdsf1geZZZJZJ6W2D2hCrhWOavzaRGtjxo_DkCXa16TcwYXk4dR4c1MJLfbh9Uct6glr9ZPslbUWNwa9WYMFrvGBJdEwJSJZdDsExupQFIypFcgQfb3M/s320/IMG_7389.JPG" /></a>Fourth stop: MiniEurope. Basically like going to Disneyland and walking amongst the Storybook Land Canals.* Every country in the European Union was represented by at least one Lilliputian national monument. So now I don’t have to visit London or Barcelona or Rome because I’ve already seen their greatest monuments. Just kidding. If traveling and site seeing were just about seeing grand monuments, it wouldn’t be half as fun. Traveling is all about experiencing everything with all your senses. You want to see everything, yes, but just as important, if not more so, is feeling, smelling, tasting and listening to everything around you. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPLHXLBkqj7BLFTZsQ9_phyAguNe1FIPzBzD3IGJK_NqQs4l61My0PKFJOVACJGT-GE2e6IPJt8ggO8UQJXGK-7SC-Ubi8C5_XCl5gIeYniauzVv01p-gQke5kSI_FsT1PT78cUjdX0z1/s1600/IMG_7436.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 239px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467861834358570290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPLHXLBkqj7BLFTZsQ9_phyAguNe1FIPzBzD3IGJK_NqQs4l61My0PKFJOVACJGT-GE2e6IPJt8ggO8UQJXGK-7SC-Ubi8C5_XCl5gIeYniauzVv01p-gQke5kSI_FsT1PT78cUjdX0z1/s320/IMG_7436.JPG" /></a>That’s how you really get to know a place. Still MiniEurope was unbelievably cool and now I want to visit those places even more. It was especially amazing seeing the places I’ve actually been to: Chenonçeau, Ghent, Bruges, Brussels and Paris. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxH2ZjfBipDKgUorhh8-lpl0cz38eQKqyosEh0scRc_h0d_KishL51U4TzqwZPUBzZGMZqUSCOv0oaCY_chwVKmXB5d50WGgwZQl2gUKk5ENHsAJGPBymSp0Lq_9h-NrO4eriEINcrv_a/s1600/IMG_7331.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 244px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 175px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467688125812517458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxH2ZjfBipDKgUorhh8-lpl0cz38eQKqyosEh0scRc_h0d_KishL51U4TzqwZPUBzZGMZqUSCOv0oaCY_chwVKmXB5d50WGgwZQl2gUKk5ENHsAJGPBymSp0Lq_9h-NrO4eriEINcrv_a/s320/IMG_7331.JPG" /></a>Final stop: the Atomium. It resembles a gigantic iron atom (it’s 102 m or 335 ft tall) and was built for the 1958 World Expo. We took what was once the fastest elevator in the world to the very top where there is a restaurant and a panoramic view of Brussels. Afterwards we went into some of the other eight spheres via escalator or stair for an exhibit dedicated to World Expo 1958. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr2Gc8fOIqxBFFv_gmUoZD0XiXdjOC6-_Z_0pUCgeLp91HZJ2ehyphenhyphenHAwJPam-7qA9MQgNRrl5DtYjoi_MLWGME0c61KonZ5Bi3vwfRqknhllDqvlTnq_BJHsPmRNH5Lw_RjKeJee-FQC44k/s1600/IMG_7501.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 239px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467689032070198754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr2Gc8fOIqxBFFv_gmUoZD0XiXdjOC6-_Z_0pUCgeLp91HZJ2ehyphenhyphenHAwJPam-7qA9MQgNRrl5DtYjoi_MLWGME0c61KonZ5Bi3vwfRqknhllDqvlTnq_BJHsPmRNH5Lw_RjKeJee-FQC44k/s320/IMG_7501.JPG" /></a>It was funny watching the old cleaning product commercials for housewives—these women were mopping the floor in heels and dresses! </div><div><br />On the walk back from the train station I told Rik that though I liked all the cities I’d seen, I preferred Ghent to them all. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IfYdp4CeE30b4uuKCPUTjZhXKtpbMYnwcxXmQbi3XzAALwOIPi74Wqa3XHvyoq9wV2hYzTw19h9Iu6GPFVyk1-W3mvBq_AXaCNP3KIEulrCsMjSI3duqDAYmwCc8ksKRpyahXcBjpIN0/s1600/IMG_7247.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467689039253479394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IfYdp4CeE30b4uuKCPUTjZhXKtpbMYnwcxXmQbi3XzAALwOIPi74Wqa3XHvyoq9wV2hYzTw19h9Iu6GPFVyk1-W3mvBq_AXaCNP3KIEulrCsMjSI3duqDAYmwCc8ksKRpyahXcBjpIN0/s320/IMG_7247.JPG" /></a>He said a lot of people have said that because although Ghent is old, “C’est une ville qui vit” (It is a city which lives). </div><div><br />Heidi</div><br /><div>*Storybook Land Canals: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Storybook_Land_Canal_Boats">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Storybook_Land_Canal_Boats</a></div><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2wsaTApwe0ctq-frau4fWKwJr_BW-Fl8IKuGM2Ob_pX0hYoFtypCv5uOAc3O5DL3MNw37Ol4FswDFE-N8WnTwsWovurmZgHfbK0msDfWmXzRhdmVlXTiJ9FtajsG2V12Q2FHJj_UXfja/s1600/IMG_7274.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467690320524052146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2wsaTApwe0ctq-frau4fWKwJr_BW-Fl8IKuGM2Ob_pX0hYoFtypCv5uOAc3O5DL3MNw37Ol4FswDFE-N8WnTwsWovurmZgHfbK0msDfWmXzRhdmVlXTiJ9FtajsG2V12Q2FHJj_UXfja/s320/IMG_7274.JPG" /></a>Staircase in Hôtel de Ville</div><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOM4S7uGZz2fkN7sKaM2tkMaqEIE9LpE-tLlnPR5vFWcpyMp9iVaeLmVMB0m_JIl5n0eDBAvrJtmuEeIVIwehlHM90vFuVglu6DdUW2MATe3HY-zMM1VbLC6Hw62RGn_xJ9ff_QHcs6OLS/s1600/IMG_7289.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467690333782857058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOM4S7uGZz2fkN7sKaM2tkMaqEIE9LpE-tLlnPR5vFWcpyMp9iVaeLmVMB0m_JIl5n0eDBAvrJtmuEeIVIwehlHM90vFuVglu6DdUW2MATe3HY-zMM1VbLC6Hw62RGn_xJ9ff_QHcs6OLS/s320/IMG_7289.JPG" /></a>Napoleon</div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-33082381041743380772010-04-28T02:54:00.000-07:002010-05-03T03:52:04.660-07:00Flanders Day 3: Bruges—Venice of the North<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CVfGzsNsreO2NkjMrfxTHS8EAoAICioIa1Nm63ubwx-mZjVkmeasfUBmSLPnT9BEzj-mOWQ-Rbpc59FERIwXAt51xEosuq80hwvuvzl7AQeCKWOnlj7iXK1zXDtQVIaJDweg5kyoJ6eT/s1600/IMG_7078.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466987152384182786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CVfGzsNsreO2NkjMrfxTHS8EAoAICioIa1Nm63ubwx-mZjVkmeasfUBmSLPnT9BEzj-mOWQ-Rbpc59FERIwXAt51xEosuq80hwvuvzl7AQeCKWOnlj7iXK1zXDtQVIaJDweg5kyoJ6eT/s320/IMG_7078.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQ_xu1olWiQRTZBHV6AOoFHrRxBuQyKzVqMKcqSj9M2PB7MK9QwSF4iQwojfO2thFyzG12-Rp36rccVbLQZuC8Mn6VKcJqHhcSq3DS7GLbDXKQKUusYGeikj5LbyeA7k34swQ8UJUAGYY/s1600/IMG_7061.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466982353292642642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQ_xu1olWiQRTZBHV6AOoFHrRxBuQyKzVqMKcqSj9M2PB7MK9QwSF4iQwojfO2thFyzG12-Rp36rccVbLQZuC8Mn6VKcJqHhcSq3DS7GLbDXKQKUusYGeikj5LbyeA7k34swQ8UJUAGYY/s320/IMG_7061.JPG" /></a>Rik and I hopped on a train for Bruges--directly west of Ghent and where Rik grew up (his parents owned a hotel called The Golden Horn). Our first stop was the Burg. The Burg is a spacious area where the Hôtel de Ville (town hall), belfry and Basilica of the Sacred Blood are located. The Basilica was my favorite church because its Gothic interior was so colorful (it’s also got an austere Romanesque lower chapel, but it wasn’t quite as cool). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLlF0UvUSkcGvocMMhLgRjyc4ap7VJkv56snUcroJ7z5GUO1VwrFhyuM-OzXY4TeXU6gyVJemc90gZmJoWBZsglCtSnv4BVs9yvRRvltWF_ZEdPgzCBZNraMNFIRoyDpgoidIUe10VaTcH/s1600/IMG_7062.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466984426087058946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLlF0UvUSkcGvocMMhLgRjyc4ap7VJkv56snUcroJ7z5GUO1VwrFhyuM-OzXY4TeXU6gyVJemc90gZmJoWBZsglCtSnv4BVs9yvRRvltWF_ZEdPgzCBZNraMNFIRoyDpgoidIUe10VaTcH/s320/IMG_7062.JPG" /></a>Only managed to take one picture because pictures weren’t allowed. The reason it’s called “Holy Blood” is because it houses a piece of cloth contains blood that Joseph of Arimathea wiped from Jesus’ body. Various myths surround it, but the most likely history is that the relic was sent from Constantinople to Bruges in 1204 during the Fourth Crusade. Of course, whether or not it’s actually Jesus’ blood is subject to debate. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXGiYuEeWZ0Fsrw1AzHYP7SqljSd0me7YNjgxvYIaiLaeIBm7rNGTL6AIFhotXIK9mc20Qnz4QygDb4nbPjnno-Rkl6vGNlRfsnvIydWLwCeBhF6OnCeY7en0R2u9C__KOKR5bS4HtfE6/s1600/IMG_7133.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466982343961923202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXGiYuEeWZ0Fsrw1AzHYP7SqljSd0me7YNjgxvYIaiLaeIBm7rNGTL6AIFhotXIK9mc20Qnz4QygDb4nbPjnno-Rkl6vGNlRfsnvIydWLwCeBhF6OnCeY7en0R2u9C__KOKR5bS4HtfE6/s320/IMG_7133.JPG" /></a>Next up were some churches and museums. In Bruge’s Notre Dame there was a marble statue of the “Virgin and Child” by Michelangelo that faintly resembles the “Pièta.”<br />The Groeninge Museum is home to Jan van Eyck’ “Madonna with Canon Joris van der Paele,” Hiëronymus Bosch’s “Last Judgment,” works by Hugo van der Goes, Marcel Broodthaers, Jan Brusselmans, René Magritte, James Ensor, and other Flemish painters. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfeKO2BZdu-92w9VVGI_zkeGslZP2dAkRzDpQ0N6oqPJK8Z9BCXyjzHZPqj4gA_mUOzdTHsDkyu-lshHbBjzhsatIg91kDXtTvLVhFE0f6a9V5uSVn-FfNse0XMvixJ62PmwCVpcZjITG/s1600/IMG_7084+Jan+van+Eyck,+Madonna+with+Canon+van+der+Paele.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466984431091475362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfeKO2BZdu-92w9VVGI_zkeGslZP2dAkRzDpQ0N6oqPJK8Z9BCXyjzHZPqj4gA_mUOzdTHsDkyu-lshHbBjzhsatIg91kDXtTvLVhFE0f6a9V5uSVn-FfNse0XMvixJ62PmwCVpcZjITG/s320/IMG_7084+Jan+van+Eyck,+Madonna+with+Canon+van+der+Paele.JPG" /></a>Van Eyck’s “Madonna” was beautiful with astonishing details like light from the windows reflecting off the knight’s armor. Bosch’s piece was creepy because it showed people being tortured and skinned alive. I prefer his other, more famous piece “The Garden of Earthly Delights,” the other one gives me the heebie-jeebies. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34iCjIgrB4eBgDJnY2r_8-bW57G6t0uYVkpNhaSpZ9U__2lQ9FxWSmTc9yqTDuQaYb4UpF_ox_D4ksDHqJWCkqKNdbCwc5U4cNMmUSqpDK8L41v0gH-nOs5DlSLc6rwQf9hzXmxusdHik/s1600/IMG_7112.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 249px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466987156287915938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34iCjIgrB4eBgDJnY2r_8-bW57G6t0uYVkpNhaSpZ9U__2lQ9FxWSmTc9yqTDuQaYb4UpF_ox_D4ksDHqJWCkqKNdbCwc5U4cNMmUSqpDK8L41v0gH-nOs5DlSLc6rwQf9hzXmxusdHik/s320/IMG_7112.JPG" /></a>Bruges is known as “Venice of the North” so naturally we had to take a canal ride. Again, the boat ride was wonderful. We passed about 20 swans just napping in the grass and navigated in between the buildings on either side of the canal. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMQw7E_JZpD78inv5QkF6TRQN0t9Je1AC7GoYcWwgsWrpMSw_-RqXTUxjI5GI6LtkUO2dRJ3YYcEU3aMbtTWYQQW7QCmV3zIltAmfGSrzj15AqeYcWI9w-_LO2HwrDTIam5qVwVe04vJz/s1600/IMG_7050.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 252px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466984449716748098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMQw7E_JZpD78inv5QkF6TRQN0t9Je1AC7GoYcWwgsWrpMSw_-RqXTUxjI5GI6LtkUO2dRJ3YYcEU3aMbtTWYQQW7QCmV3zIltAmfGSrzj15AqeYcWI9w-_LO2HwrDTIam5qVwVe04vJz/s320/IMG_7050.JPG" /></a>I’m so impressed that these buildings stayed intact through both World Wars. Each building was marvelously different from the one next to it. </div><div><br />In the streets there were many horse drawn carriages pulling people about making the city, making it feel even more like a time capsule. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_tcm2glyhRXl3pcGS9o9FwtJJ5kXnkVf9lUJaO4B1tb7VNyTwm_zFdTDkyMxJpiryX3BRQTnOzsFwYaO4LxDHSRx_Uuv576WyqGLoaeGMmnssPi7uCCLb5BXP40ykwxSKUO-P3SYLTf6/s1600/IMG_7165.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 252px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466982374139140514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_tcm2glyhRXl3pcGS9o9FwtJJ5kXnkVf9lUJaO4B1tb7VNyTwm_zFdTDkyMxJpiryX3BRQTnOzsFwYaO4LxDHSRx_Uuv576WyqGLoaeGMmnssPi7uCCLb5BXP40ykwxSKUO-P3SYLTf6/s320/IMG_7165.JPG" /></a>We even came across a woman making lace (another thing Bruges is known for.) Our last stop was the Beguinage which is sort of like a monastery or convent, but less strict. God seeking or spiritually minded women could live in this small community and seek refuge from the outside world. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDjrCLMJ3aQECJsuVdYNCqMrwH_g26GntLy7dABzGXpuoGctNW2KO9Fbml4mdDrBanbbBqedoKtboIINSUxcoYZ3HokJflhIGdMwKtpZVeNNHZZb9Rbge3XZQhqvbVjocUGdqGNxNWUgxw/s1600/IMG_7150.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 182px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 270px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466984440212775186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDjrCLMJ3aQECJsuVdYNCqMrwH_g26GntLy7dABzGXpuoGctNW2KO9Fbml4mdDrBanbbBqedoKtboIINSUxcoYZ3HokJflhIGdMwKtpZVeNNHZZb9Rbge3XZQhqvbVjocUGdqGNxNWUgxw/s320/IMG_7150.JPG" /></a>They took vows of obedience and chastity, but not of poverty and could leave the community at any time they wished.<br /><br />We returned home and I got a tour of the Verbeke’s apartment which is almost a museum in its own right. They’ve got miniatures from all over the world: China, Thailand, the US, Africa, etc. Rik also showed me a bunch of photos from his military life in the Belgian Congo. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgjUV4KtK7gE0X-KKFEYQdBjS4MKnJJpFVmzlfRaGBkQQexibX0KE7R2yzD60YbbFlhyShCR-yf8k-58B_Ejj9WGmr77h5jPeF5BddlVC8JiTewBBKfyvnwOheG8b1ollGSVVVIHDUzD2/s1600/IMG_7206.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 255px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 177px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466982372758237410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgjUV4KtK7gE0X-KKFEYQdBjS4MKnJJpFVmzlfRaGBkQQexibX0KE7R2yzD60YbbFlhyShCR-yf8k-58B_Ejj9WGmr77h5jPeF5BddlVC8JiTewBBKfyvnwOheG8b1ollGSVVVIHDUzD2/s320/IMG_7206.JPG" /></a>He had some old black and white photos of his men cutting open an enormous snake and finding a partially digested antelope inside! </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHn1bSe2R55Y4uC6MNh5ngdFCsbJP_r-XvDIcaQEyxMm5dSLzLtLlfEZocOwGpXz4FQ01FjNpoohNXzq3yKoSv9iEWw9TKniNoy3_gr32jjq6cf4FFTT_Wlm9-H-8KepMYeNZRYOXUWB_T/s1600/IMG_7207.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466984437911184034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHn1bSe2R55Y4uC6MNh5ngdFCsbJP_r-XvDIcaQEyxMm5dSLzLtLlfEZocOwGpXz4FQ01FjNpoohNXzq3yKoSv9iEWw9TKniNoy3_gr32jjq6cf4FFTT_Wlm9-H-8KepMYeNZRYOXUWB_T/s320/IMG_7207.JPG" /></a>Rita made salmon and white asparagus (I’d thought there was only the green kind) for dinner, which we ate on the balcony. And then we had sundaes with Belgian chocolate and chocolate “Conga” sprinkles. </div><br /><div>Yum! </div><br /><div>Heidi </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi047-baXyM2qALINjTsXFCPj2AGUfPE_sZy8k9x5hU0GY-Q9RzlTGcrTomUlLdLVKBKc_CInRdmmZfLV7UmVk-uDEwN56HH9SSW0qUAjSuI1ItkBrIDE2XTqKM4gX04sldAHGUtg9lio7a/s1600/IMG_7064.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466982357751332834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi047-baXyM2qALINjTsXFCPj2AGUfPE_sZy8k9x5hU0GY-Q9RzlTGcrTomUlLdLVKBKc_CInRdmmZfLV7UmVk-uDEwN56HH9SSW0qUAjSuI1ItkBrIDE2XTqKM4gX04sldAHGUtg9lio7a/s320/IMG_7064.JPG" /></a>P.S. There’s also a recent movie called <em>In Bruges</em> with Colin Farrell and Ralph Fiennes. If you liked Pulp Fiction, you’ll probably like it. It’s violent, has excessive swearing, and consists of black humor with elements both tragic and comic. The best part about it is that it gives you a good idea of what Bruges looks like. </div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1cvIzjSsj0ZBzECwanEbfVtkjc8Ub-m_r_n8_mhxLUJcJFvAp1Vym1MTFLoDKNDJGp7E91mMEi9PGEGoNHePeO_d-yxfrZzYMpMjri2rAuwKGy0iOeMf-UJCV_9CEstE8XJhCNS2vDQnm/s1600/IMG_7087+Jean+Brusselmans,+still+life+with+a+fan.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466987141594014802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1cvIzjSsj0ZBzECwanEbfVtkjc8Ub-m_r_n8_mhxLUJcJFvAp1Vym1MTFLoDKNDJGp7E91mMEi9PGEGoNHePeO_d-yxfrZzYMpMjri2rAuwKGy0iOeMf-UJCV_9CEstE8XJhCNS2vDQnm/s320/IMG_7087+Jean+Brusselmans,+still+life+with+a+fan.JPG" /></a>Jan Brusselman's "Still Life with a Fan"</div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2MtDWmEYleNTftikir8DL_JpgSGAcck98rlhoaXYW7WUGG5_kblWpB6v465rb4netXf9W5KCVsVOID2sRlwnsZ_OZuDtnNkaJ_hB7poOliy7U_sDF4xwZ-tHb8iMXQ3vLM8MSeNG4rD8A/s1600/IMG_7154.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466987161601891906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2MtDWmEYleNTftikir8DL_JpgSGAcck98rlhoaXYW7WUGG5_kblWpB6v465rb4netXf9W5KCVsVOID2sRlwnsZ_OZuDtnNkaJ_hB7poOliy7U_sDF4xwZ-tHb8iMXQ3vLM8MSeNG4rD8A/s320/IMG_7154.JPG" /></a>Portal into the Beguinage.</div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhziAKtK19Llgi7-xc3RrxC9FQXJla1VUw_Cs6_SUtwlNNb3_VlHWm9XYCKi6uITkIPZ7WEXgu1viGgVWAcCuZdJSBR0M4aW4In5LF1xji0IHGAwYrLh1kEelHxQQp-l1hSsveSHJlJWJ58/s1600/IMG_7044.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466987169368378690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhziAKtK19Llgi7-xc3RrxC9FQXJla1VUw_Cs6_SUtwlNNb3_VlHWm9XYCKi6uITkIPZ7WEXgu1viGgVWAcCuZdJSBR0M4aW4In5LF1xji0IHGAwYrLh1kEelHxQQp-l1hSsveSHJlJWJ58/s320/IMG_7044.JPG" /></a>The Bruges Belfry.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-7088621655523948682010-04-27T09:38:00.000-07:002010-05-01T11:10:12.483-07:00Flanders Day 2: 2010 Ghent Floralies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPeAC2DGJiHMDaiG9FuCmCio3zRCEahSScFkhL8KQmDFjJqyJf5VxIhgp6IVqC8S7yXpFT-s2QlGxI5CAODQwYjWhI0T6ehoUEacmwLsMNhpjpn7NwWKvQln_rLq8C-7Dke9wH3EbRzWgw/s1600/IMG_6782.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466347151574145282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPeAC2DGJiHMDaiG9FuCmCio3zRCEahSScFkhL8KQmDFjJqyJf5VxIhgp6IVqC8S7yXpFT-s2QlGxI5CAODQwYjWhI0T6ehoUEacmwLsMNhpjpn7NwWKvQln_rLq8C-7Dke9wH3EbRzWgw/s320/IMG_6782.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnnG5mXi-HrrRTUbmVbguL8PL-8-nErMQjcVVf3kKv-HvFDel6uXCsDAnxxwXP91PtbP7FL548XbL69I3c3ivXMfy6Uuq0KXzXKUFNN65STPXaU58Hm51K3fLv4U9mkgDJXPBVU6p9eNl/s1600/IMG_6852.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466344445565369314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnnG5mXi-HrrRTUbmVbguL8PL-8-nErMQjcVVf3kKv-HvFDel6uXCsDAnxxwXP91PtbP7FL548XbL69I3c3ivXMfy6Uuq0KXzXKUFNN65STPXaU58Hm51K3fLv4U9mkgDJXPBVU6p9eNl/s320/IMG_6852.JPG" /></a>So what’s a floralie? And what are the Ghent Floralies? Floralie stems from the Latin word “floralia” meaning, you guessed it, flowers. It’s connected with Ancient Roman May Day celebrations and flower festivals and today it signifies much the same thing. As to the second, the Ghent floralies is an international flower exhibit that was started in 1808 by Frans Van Cassel and the Society of Agriculture and Horticulture (which in 1815 became the Royal Society of Agciculture and Horticulture). </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCeoM0-pStgT4DwccLERsVok7B3qFlMIpxy_wv3mgxuqeUEN1-5BcNmyOhu1Vdz02yAX0UzRpaQey1veNrGjhZu_hvrreJ9wPHiQz5bgT6SFF8zyz0MafblD6G999v0cD-hB7ftf84pbFB/s1600/IMG_6868.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466343468712066802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCeoM0-pStgT4DwccLERsVok7B3qFlMIpxy_wv3mgxuqeUEN1-5BcNmyOhu1Vdz02yAX0UzRpaQey1veNrGjhZu_hvrreJ9wPHiQz5bgT6SFF8zyz0MafblD6G999v0cD-hB7ftf84pbFB/s320/IMG_6868.JPG" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjzh3aYJFYMKN_z6_ZAPrnmblyr_9VsUlQCLZlDkWcImDWZtWBUvnz9ivtXK0D592bkR_UR-KQndCzttQkGSsWmM6mH49Mr_iQaY5pFBIzu989odFefnGlCkFaZx-yTD4pkAp4q-N_X7Aw/s1600/IMG_6880.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466343456650010722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjzh3aYJFYMKN_z6_ZAPrnmblyr_9VsUlQCLZlDkWcImDWZtWBUvnz9ivtXK0D592bkR_UR-KQndCzttQkGSsWmM6mH49Mr_iQaY5pFBIzu989odFefnGlCkFaZx-yTD4pkAp4q-N_X7Aw/s320/IMG_6880.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSVoEU5q0NrGfldjRc694cZBLvj82VgsZWW0FTnRoSyIgOn65GPAePZCgnQA-3xg975GHstZEj79wsjWDftLudaRj0tDeGOVY7E_L6jYOEFzxOcN1q2kdzNG9bp2dq_VtJVu3ci79TQnT/s1600/IMG_6787.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 288px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 207px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466347154455593570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSVoEU5q0NrGfldjRc694cZBLvj82VgsZWW0FTnRoSyIgOn65GPAePZCgnQA-3xg975GHstZEj79wsjWDftLudaRj0tDeGOVY7E_L6jYOEFzxOcN1q2kdzNG9bp2dq_VtJVu3ci79TQnT/s320/IMG_6787.JPG" /></a>Van Cassel was a <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuoXK1VbugWXVfj6EcD_9xELM_dMCRLZnG7qazUYrVAAPnVN7ImHDWivD0aQHhMHOIC4lU9tRnHVpWqKKo1OJQvyhYaH6AubgdbbAw-c4Qb75am1ATUrYDbrUWq15dXUP5TwfQlqyZ7Gy/s1600/IMG_6777.JPG"></a>passionate gardener and collector of exotic plants who just wanted to share his love of horticulture. The very first exhibition was February 6, 1809 though it wasn’t known as the “Floralies” until 1873. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4za2TKVJE_HAcQCWxIsmV9cGJhiqKybNKs2BZbjoA2r4cF6z336I5la5-3ai_UJ_NyJiIhCZjsRtZQ07bXsJBfVQGuXU0LNSZU5oj9MSrEM70EaQznkXPeFXkuepr_mI-429woAlVt4dt/s1600/IMG_6871.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466343460986213170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4za2TKVJE_HAcQCWxIsmV9cGJhiqKybNKs2BZbjoA2r4cF6z336I5la5-3ai_UJ_NyJiIhCZjsRtZQ07bXsJBfVQGuXU0LNSZU5oj9MSrEM70EaQznkXPeFXkuepr_mI-429woAlVt4dt/s320/IMG_6871.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreVasGnWFyiG3Ju00Kz2uAmqfjnr1y1zk3o0xAlFF70lVe5t1jsJgCdS-gr_tKVosU31qcf7zGUO7M2PQCE3J_OP6LQRtnlp6CcLiWBNptVYGSZIZoqBY784Ec3_ZE4EnBfzrQwnVMkti/s1600/IMG_6865.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466343482374602962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreVasGnWFyiG3Ju00Kz2uAmqfjnr1y1zk3o0xAlFF70lVe5t1jsJgCdS-gr_tKVosU31qcf7zGUO7M2PQCE3J_OP6LQRtnlp6CcLiWBNptVYGSZIZoqBY784Ec3_ZE4EnBfzrQwnVMkti/s320/IMG_6865.JPG" /></a></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9X6vi4H6H79APuMG4AxHwy7TfIqO9prkH53J91q67apXkkOW0rcwDbaBYTc8Vyned2A7rRUPvoD122K3yAXQZSgUVlcSlJXnAWxCMcAbbCgXVSGJk-_YSv-x9I65xmCkpj5sIgrX-sNy/s1600/IMG_6789.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 258px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 186px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466344467570749442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9X6vi4H6H79APuMG4AxHwy7TfIqO9prkH53J91q67apXkkOW0rcwDbaBYTc8Vyned2A7rRUPvoD122K3yAXQZSgUVlcSlJXnAWxCMcAbbCgXVSGJk-_YSv-x9I65xmCkpj5sIgrX-sNy/s320/IMG_6789.JPG" /></a>Today the flower festival lasts for one week and occurs every five years. (Talk about being in the right place, at the right time.) This 34th floral expo boasted a 2km walk; 4.5 hectares (11 acres) of indoor garden—the largest in the world; 300,000 visitors; 305 exhibits, and foreign presence from Canada, China, Denmark, Germany, France, Kenya, Italy, Japan, South Africa, Sweden, the Netherlands and the United States. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm6Yq5nzEqVhWxNdffowsrgGkHAaG_JSjqS2cCda_kDmRHjjRxQBqgvYyJatzICGrkMnJRykvd5bGynUHSD02LtgGhyphenhyphenRlP7ccRrv3R887GOXbYC0H5wSZnrFr_Ixeyyo2dIw4YRbSMvgzB/s1600/IMG_6866.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466343476959570546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm6Yq5nzEqVhWxNdffowsrgGkHAaG_JSjqS2cCda_kDmRHjjRxQBqgvYyJatzICGrkMnJRykvd5bGynUHSD02LtgGhyphenhyphenRlP7ccRrv3R887GOXbYC0H5wSZnrFr_Ixeyyo2dIw4YRbSMvgzB/s320/IMG_6866.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCS9h5kj7YEdSaM3oQ_PnCeek1vrNSLfACxCh0L_cwnZQRG4Yg_dwYWYxwGfCZmD5nxWom8yDEGcazDgDqVunOm88gqsy_UhcMa3Z6KrzRMfSZ9mbUFDREDsp7IY39EPBGVreT3EZ4IEcb/s1600/IMG_6797.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466349964809968034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCS9h5kj7YEdSaM3oQ_PnCeek1vrNSLfACxCh0L_cwnZQRG4Yg_dwYWYxwGfCZmD5nxWom8yDEGcazDgDqVunOm88gqsy_UhcMa3Z6KrzRMfSZ9mbUFDREDsp7IY39EPBGVreT3EZ4IEcb/s320/IMG_6797.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQF33acnFjpOOZeREIWCQ9ghJzK3lfChxAxLAF9y9gHOOEJIylrVGW7VJcYNu1R2CN0_3b88KMDpouPdAagXbtHv11zq2NLNypkv-Qqard836DB0TH7mekrvbpsAVKWwl-zuVinC7TPEa/s1600/IMG_6790.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 258px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466347165819270226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQF33acnFjpOOZeREIWCQ9ghJzK3lfChxAxLAF9y9gHOOEJIylrVGW7VJcYNu1R2CN0_3b88KMDpouPdAagXbtHv11zq2NLNypkv-Qqard836DB0TH7mekrvbpsAVKWwl-zuVinC7TPEa/s320/IMG_6790.JPG" /></a>So that’s a brief summary of what it is, but that doesn’t even begin to convey what it was like being there. The smells that assail you are luscious, like a breathable elixir. It was incredible. Not only were the colors extremely vibrant, but the variety of flora was astounding. Guaranteed, every color on the spectrum was represented. </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLeBpkHmGvuxz8DJyZ-FxBK3X2KevpFs0hCCAacKLkNxqG-w3yEabdeFuAMD2I9mXBDAQwY-3_uwgNpx8hEttDZ0hDqfw7v6YRAIb5uW-eV3Ab_SDydnxW1hgOPZynoK36cKaMQrvh6zX/s1600/IMG_6835.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466344471602491250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLeBpkHmGvuxz8DJyZ-FxBK3X2KevpFs0hCCAacKLkNxqG-w3yEabdeFuAMD2I9mXBDAQwY-3_uwgNpx8hEttDZ0hDqfw7v6YRAIb5uW-eV3Ab_SDydnxW1hgOPZynoK36cKaMQrvh6zX/s320/IMG_6835.JPG" /></a><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>If you ever get the chance to go, or are anywhere near Belgium in April of 2015, you have to go. End of discussion.<br />Heidi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6R1YJqYwKbHpLwEeBrbo3SqYO4aSBBu8-nhtLZDpK28oCUWURk7Y3TK9V5lPdAR9ZF7rYy3rycE5lJauvSPLiYe7YaMDdjX1E_mx-QpZKlSjArdL8TkkyNFH0SxBwoiOnZNlUyS6RtOl/s1600/IMG_6778.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466352462557396226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6R1YJqYwKbHpLwEeBrbo3SqYO4aSBBu8-nhtLZDpK28oCUWURk7Y3TK9V5lPdAR9ZF7rYy3rycE5lJauvSPLiYe7YaMDdjX1E_mx-QpZKlSjArdL8TkkyNFH0SxBwoiOnZNlUyS6RtOl/s320/IMG_6778.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi2ZbRHwB2dkswJekbhK_ukBCIGjb0HBKVIAfDXAAW2C3W-EoI-goVUiQxWG1EcX9gBN15QxC_OU57lc3I77skIn_YwWKf6fy8T904dOx9_rwAtb2X39Bj6QbC-USAjN80HfbAAs5J3BYe/s1600/IMG_6806.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTfTIEQ_VCX1V1Mjl-nsP7VJHupZ4IkU6iKgPxd5uNBoN545PnS6i1vuSJiVMuSrtM7-kPPvK4wZZSNUp4_895E9wsi-5c1JzjxbQop4pOuJmpAxCFNnvJd92ybNcvi7H6oKo46BYQXZz/s1600/IMG_6811.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466352490032763922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTfTIEQ_VCX1V1Mjl-nsP7VJHupZ4IkU6iKgPxd5uNBoN545PnS6i1vuSJiVMuSrtM7-kPPvK4wZZSNUp4_895E9wsi-5c1JzjxbQop4pOuJmpAxCFNnvJd92ybNcvi7H6oKo46BYQXZz/s320/IMG_6811.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirUM2YMUZ7U2iV0hDSv9qV4r7Lb3Q_9oO5mLAsdvXC43A1MVOUDN8M-aOG6BaKpVLFkGodfPMll04qqXF2m0XflLFCP8yHnDTDsdGKMfe6vE2USoRpRGAaAwqEkxkp-NOiwfIodDXfR3ul/s1600/IMG_6825.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466364845416857378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirUM2YMUZ7U2iV0hDSv9qV4r7Lb3Q_9oO5mLAsdvXC43A1MVOUDN8M-aOG6BaKpVLFkGodfPMll04qqXF2m0XflLFCP8yHnDTDsdGKMfe6vE2USoRpRGAaAwqEkxkp-NOiwfIodDXfR3ul/s320/IMG_6825.JPG" /></a></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlxoO6VFNzIQMCz7ImhUibcg0to337z0fyFIIYegpnaVr18L2YmvOiYVFgLChj8USR57Gf8bqo3HONkfcbT-5ifJHcMj3ZgDo1jXT7iBT04Jn1xDWx2KKByY8cZA-qzF-8svcCG0CvPXIa/s1600/IMG_6850.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466344454617948546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlxoO6VFNzIQMCz7ImhUibcg0to337z0fyFIIYegpnaVr18L2YmvOiYVFgLChj8USR57Gf8bqo3HONkfcbT-5ifJHcMj3ZgDo1jXT7iBT04Jn1xDWx2KKByY8cZA-qzF-8svcCG0CvPXIa/s320/IMG_6850.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4YKpAlTuyX8PJOseynrkkX1oELwQQZUTbWIHDKjIR5UlmiGJwLadR5bG5JjsOtZ4nQs3YHB8vxNJexgUmaQEWcsHVLqvhV44u8dT6Q557AeU3eZJ-ZcaGEosUBRhZXg5x2kMKsKYlrCP/s1600/IMG_6844.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466344455834525042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4YKpAlTuyX8PJOseynrkkX1oELwQQZUTbWIHDKjIR5UlmiGJwLadR5bG5JjsOtZ4nQs3YHB8vxNJexgUmaQEWcsHVLqvhV44u8dT6Q557AeU3eZJ-ZcaGEosUBRhZXg5x2kMKsKYlrCP/s320/IMG_6844.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5hN75CxlZ-BSozeW3aGrkMlP8fQN36RPGfZJZnxXH9DGFVxNmrkqWZfTYS56jJgrvWSrLLhCmFhk9ODaX6tZviNXMbF8EZzMPd05IahoJF53QIxDakSPfEdEOyShFJ5q1WcE98XmAMAC_/s1600/IMG_6834.JPG"></a></div></div><br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTM5H4Vsi3EYjr55wfnfJEciFQWebgx9z_mfTRmVdVnoDKQ19nQn-k_rKf6SVONBe3WTOKNZIsfIXMWGYHM96ulPQwVl7pDskmzt-QvAtRyHsB7kx_6aDpkXi2PtN_r0wafuZNqwUU3MvM/s1600/IMG_6830.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJA-oSIi1XLMXasPFC0Ps3g2gCQBh2ratT7K8d4RomyQ6Vvtvy7G1BsVoU80USng_sGSxVJz8K7i5UkmXzxShvDqWYKTrz5m5F98ZFcplWgiYnRcJqR04bcH2e57X-jDhSVgxpsNy-lVjn/s1600/IMG_6803.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivzJt8WGdY5PtVJ4W9xlXzkWUQrZkwT09Y5d2Ul-W6D2YaAeG-_WsUTfkMCGPI5xGGhTju-jnjvGdVaWSoXPdiQ5tx2Mpd3polOGGHccG2MPMdoceOU-olIrgGdWdf-qS70o-aatgnqNOm/s1600/IMG_6822.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4YcOzIRnGPjPWYZgt-0Xiu4n8fIf3YggHwm0U3ATOWBJzgxCjOhShILozMdBYYrTv3zkKLVTI9E6LOhnnGX9I5Y0dlKD_eIvwmkpje1r_h2JvhbSMMTNAGvUhP7kkw1hjZgMKMa_Y3sEy/s1600/IMG_6777.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUTqYQLNeTVhGS_DT_rBS1cUT_YH3hyphenhyphenLS86xaa7adfg0Z-LgUdTZWTdRCpwxtrSjWSRmeGYBAB66-kGsKtfxfxCeci-M6G832klwtR6Wyhmjpybq7vkq59zAGzGaf_V_IgxvLx1nwQLA3/s1600/IMG_6859.JPG"></a></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJB2eVBCqg1clA5JPsumUGpFaw7nqQCeEU1uu1Nni7V7BOtsVULO9rTrxXvgHy2MADtWOfpFhSc9jOV7367uBJ6QjZ_M77DlaljoomMu-N2yJbgJ0NaUevbmvX1i-ftX281ihdaYPxjdKQ/s1600/IMG_6783.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 184px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466349960042214658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJB2eVBCqg1clA5JPsumUGpFaw7nqQCeEU1uu1Nni7V7BOtsVULO9rTrxXvgHy2MADtWOfpFhSc9jOV7367uBJ6QjZ_M77DlaljoomMu-N2yJbgJ0NaUevbmvX1i-ftX281ihdaYPxjdKQ/s320/IMG_6783.JPG" /></a></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuoXK1VbugWXVfj6EcD_9xELM_dMCRLZnG7qazUYrVAAPnVN7ImHDWivD0aQHhMHOIC4lU9tRnHVpWqKKo1OJQvyhYaH6AubgdbbAw-c4Qb75am1ATUrYDbrUWq15dXUP5TwfQlqyZ7Gy/s1600/IMG_6777.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 181px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 247px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466357532996531858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuoXK1VbugWXVfj6EcD_9xELM_dMCRLZnG7qazUYrVAAPnVN7ImHDWivD0aQHhMHOIC4lU9tRnHVpWqKKo1OJQvyhYaH6AubgdbbAw-c4Qb75am1ATUrYDbrUWq15dXUP5TwfQlqyZ7Gy/s320/IMG_6777.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJQnP0jrvGEFmwqxHxudYxpoQ4xUW-MwJCnFbre-wYvM7rKtK5jTshGRO_CIazLw0wvS3-7c_Es8WjaeGq-dUtmhveVY0PaR5o7rwHHgeHh_zDHx16KivRiXaUqWvEw89Fl8XGmQ7Um2wm/s1600/IMG_6781.JPG"></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-49901361886314567742010-04-27T07:58:00.000-07:002010-05-07T00:24:40.607-07:00Flanders Day 2: Mystery of the Mystic Lamb<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGFWbssfj3zLSb4TvEjrl7zR4XciaZAvqhvPahKwcNu1Kr8TH5Rsc0M8apfEen-iNjmyCgNB5o7D6pdwV9iZ5sEmRItrEahFVTrg9gfRadeQgDOjxGldu-NHO3hwHkcPsB59phLojWbRu/s1600/IMG_6997.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466323606162073714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGFWbssfj3zLSb4TvEjrl7zR4XciaZAvqhvPahKwcNu1Kr8TH5Rsc0M8apfEen-iNjmyCgNB5o7D6pdwV9iZ5sEmRItrEahFVTrg9gfRadeQgDOjxGldu-NHO3hwHkcPsB59phLojWbRu/s320/IMG_6997.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHRxViWr1AKEeV303Po7e-Dcyh9aW99j_KWP7TH4YvPWcEK9veEMiMnD-ID2aMl6Jcs0OvpdO6pq3sacuqLkmWD9eqD1WXca3bf07PVfvz2ajpKg6ZaVMb8frh4o5tCUrFFEViWvIr14W/s1600/IMG_6886.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466326112941560450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHRxViWr1AKEeV303Po7e-Dcyh9aW99j_KWP7TH4YvPWcEK9veEMiMnD-ID2aMl6Jcs0OvpdO6pq3sacuqLkmWD9eqD1WXca3bf07PVfvz2ajpKg6ZaVMb8frh4o5tCUrFFEViWvIr14W/s320/IMG_6886.JPG" /></a>Day 2 was just as busy as the first. We got an early start and took off for the 2010 Ghent Floralies (sorry I’m going to leave you with a cliff hanger and explain that in the next post.) After the Floralies, Rik and I climbed the Ghent belfry which was like a mini, vertical museum. Each level had something different: <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_lo9QgU3F-LtB_Gfnn5KRZ2X4DHttvwLDo4cf18tXGcUB3WQHYoY7gJN7rui9HI8zffbbOA-7KJUy1sJkpXXtnJFtleohDGRmRHcvuC0EvO08MFUYghVAg1Mju5SSjqq0q0DSInZKnLE/s1600/IMG_6908.JPG"></a>There was a collection of the old bells that were once used as well as the original dragon from the top of the spire, the watchmens’ room and the clock mechanism which looks like a gigantic music box. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs37t7ZkZUCl_EbMcGSooMFLw9R1gy1CNhJqOOTaoDHOtnV1g_O8aEzsco6C7mMzePVMCx-ZcMFaKkGzm4LbiiG5ohoWIPP-JnIIqZSOQKTLtnWhhTq_wj0g6geQooh9s4tDZvMEV2GaRP/s1600/IMG_6908.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 260px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 193px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466320988893040370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs37t7ZkZUCl_EbMcGSooMFLw9R1gy1CNhJqOOTaoDHOtnV1g_O8aEzsco6C7mMzePVMCx-ZcMFaKkGzm4LbiiG5ohoWIPP-JnIIqZSOQKTLtnWhhTq_wj0g6geQooh9s4tDZvMEV2GaRP/s320/IMG_6908.JPG" /></a>At the top was a magnificent view of the city. I learned that work was first started on the belfry in 1313 and that it uses 54 bells to chime out the time every fifteen minutes.</div><div></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxj3vkg5jayhSAbruOwUvTSmyufjZEd7s6Tdvp9JcUWVz_9psEMiGERQKS75V1YQePWyriodPIuRpb3Xlt2ZUiqG5_YZr0aPDErjd9Q9qmLqoOxQMwFocpL7svOJ1Egm99YjPFgkKo52RN/s1600/IMG_6978.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466319322320920498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxj3vkg5jayhSAbruOwUvTSmyufjZEd7s6Tdvp9JcUWVz_9psEMiGERQKS75V1YQePWyriodPIuRpb3Xlt2ZUiqG5_YZr0aPDErjd9Q9qmLqoOxQMwFocpL7svOJ1Egm99YjPFgkKo52RN/s320/IMG_6978.JPG" /></a>Afterwards we walked to the Gravensteen, or Ghent castle. Inside the donjon were a bunch of weapons and a torture chamber with devices like thumbscrews, brands, a stretcher and spiked collars. Very gruesome. The actual chateau was constructed in 1180 by Philippe of Alsace, but the first fortifications were started in the 9th century.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5RL92Ez2U4qxcE8Ludspxe-jAvF9SFqOPZCILsOkBArfAYGzI6WBWM2PHPD16gSlKYHX9T3UEAJYAI2eO52p5sgT4x8OtWDmFKoZsB0aW4KTrDo-DxTssUEfD8xz19K-cc1O0HSgPV2oZ/s1600/IMG_7041.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 252px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466320994214799922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5RL92Ez2U4qxcE8Ludspxe-jAvF9SFqOPZCILsOkBArfAYGzI6WBWM2PHPD16gSlKYHX9T3UEAJYAI2eO52p5sgT4x8OtWDmFKoZsB0aW4KTrDo-DxTssUEfD8xz19K-cc1O0HSgPV2oZ/s320/IMG_7041.JPG" /></a>Rita met us for lunch and I got my first taste of Belgian fries. Did you know French fries actually originated in Belgium? Well, they do and naturally the originals are better. Hands down. </div><div><br />Following lunch I met Rik and Rita’s neighbor Hilde for her guided tour of Ghent. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbtDLi0JxrPXn4H2R0dtTApvm_yhf9rSySVLW8dSgiCEdPwBrGXvAMRxk0f3FIM05HW0Ww-PY9MHdSbZrzfK1KXE4s0WRc6xT9l2_Adh9E7iK7Iyk-8CabDvca3Zx_piDgaAmyOGJgq_Jw/s1600/IMG_6968.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 261px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 183px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466323616539771490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbtDLi0JxrPXn4H2R0dtTApvm_yhf9rSySVLW8dSgiCEdPwBrGXvAMRxk0f3FIM05HW0Ww-PY9MHdSbZrzfK1KXE4s0WRc6xT9l2_Adh9E7iK7Iyk-8CabDvca3Zx_piDgaAmyOGJgq_Jw/s320/IMG_6968.JPG" /></a>She told us (the French tourists and I) that at one point, the castle keep was taken over by University students in protest of the rising price of beer. One of the French guys joked that that was a worthy cause if there ever was one. We passed the old Poissonerie which definitely doesn’t look like a fish market with its statue of Neptune and the Boucherie (Butchery) with fake ham hanging from the ceiling and a colonnade with Napoleon’s eagle. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNhpE-aPj4D8pjYTTNbvr6PwsA3m7QWSqwpkcUcyfEsxW7-8CqvCulnrqIAJJnrAy4quiOmGpt76-PY6zWmcZ_vp2do-12UNBM6xsz0ItDjMhC8VepNM1rtC6_0rqInMzgkgAdEY4-u8e/s1600/adoration+of+the+mystic+lamb+van+eyck.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 253px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 177px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466325268374831458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNhpE-aPj4D8pjYTTNbvr6PwsA3m7QWSqwpkcUcyfEsxW7-8CqvCulnrqIAJJnrAy4quiOmGpt76-PY6zWmcZ_vp2do-12UNBM6xsz0ItDjMhC8VepNM1rtC6_0rqInMzgkgAdEY4-u8e/s320/adoration+of+the+mystic+lamb+van+eyck.jpg" /></a>Next was the impressive St Bavo’s cathedral. Inside was a painting by Peter Paul Reubens and the triptych “Adoration of the Mystic Lamb” by Jan Van Eyck.<br /></div><div></div><div>The triptych, painted in 1432, was wayyy larger than I thought and incredibly detailed. It also features prominently in Nazi conspiracy theory. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBB5otP88d72DIKdPG9BSzhtDwiEJjBKUb9utgnE6bc27X4wXk2U1j57TYmrXoGbLWeY4e8PrMKtSC66HgIZJXXbyMFkFrvapNPf9ZW-s1yfQTpeOvY_wsunsLHrvEPUra8bpLdXrhi92_/s1600/IMG_6925.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466326124150605202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBB5otP88d72DIKdPG9BSzhtDwiEJjBKUb9utgnE6bc27X4wXk2U1j57TYmrXoGbLWeY4e8PrMKtSC66HgIZJXXbyMFkFrvapNPf9ZW-s1yfQTpeOvY_wsunsLHrvEPUra8bpLdXrhi92_/s320/IMG_6925.JPG" /></a>Bought by the King of Prussia in the early 1800s, it was exhibited in Germany until the Germans had to give it back to Belgium as part of the World War I war reparations. Apparently the Germans greatly resented this because in 1942, Hitler ordered that the altarpiece be taken back to Germany. It was stolen by the SS and stored in a salt mine until recovered by the Americans who gave it back to Belgium in a special ceremony. (No French officials were invited to the ceremony because Belgium was still mad at France for allowing the painting to be taken.) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszWLG_DlvTBDXKIx7JQndwv_bFlAsGMnEKl4MUW2Dv3ckJCYTS9u93wKrxreqeHtxuh7NUShtWq3Y2NV5ERJjk3SHynseGfC8CsRwWZj4umxAelUrxzjtfgjsIw_8O_aI1bT4tEeL-CjD/s1600/IMG_6992.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 270px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466321022329769506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszWLG_DlvTBDXKIx7JQndwv_bFlAsGMnEKl4MUW2Dv3ckJCYTS9u93wKrxreqeHtxuh7NUShtWq3Y2NV5ERJjk3SHynseGfC8CsRwWZj4umxAelUrxzjtfgjsIw_8O_aI1bT4tEeL-CjD/s320/IMG_6992.JPG" /></a>But before it became a German hostage there was an earlier attempt to steal the altarpiece that was partially successful. In 1934, one of the panels “Just Judges” was stolen and it has never been recovered. (Forget Detective Poirot, where’s Indiana Jones?) And that is the true mystery of the mystic lamb. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYXhO99x2M4BueUJQKy1GTl5pOB18i1ZG9jlqnvi1ej4M4gHoWZL_h46l3jnvdcas2CH2xxJDoyL4W20S71ThgeOLTAKcJOA6v4dlrW669YMmqqT5Oe520JFpf7UKySCbxomBvmb9CeNs/s1600/IMG_7005.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 259px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 191px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466323607818216002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYXhO99x2M4BueUJQKy1GTl5pOB18i1ZG9jlqnvi1ej4M4gHoWZL_h46l3jnvdcas2CH2xxJDoyL4W20S71ThgeOLTAKcJOA6v4dlrW669YMmqqT5Oe520JFpf7UKySCbxomBvmb9CeNs/s320/IMG_7005.JPG" /></a>The last item on our agenda was a canal ride accompanied by coffee and biscuits. I’ve always loved boat rides and this one was so very relaxing. I enjoyed looking at the colorful buildings on either side of the canal and the chess players on the quay. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRgql8WoGjS-v-jpLVIb_YEOxFUipbiqkJbpbqxqtL8ocCsvRgLK5pdaWQAZ1N9PJgyGPoRBzyPEfS9kinFpwvpQPaDmr9H2j1RCAJjSzTOaue6fmxfxgYancW5PSASyauOL4tjxllyc6/s1600/IMG_7023.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 263px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466321013903950050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRgql8WoGjS-v-jpLVIb_YEOxFUipbiqkJbpbqxqtL8ocCsvRgLK5pdaWQAZ1N9PJgyGPoRBzyPEfS9kinFpwvpQPaDmr9H2j1RCAJjSzTOaue6fmxfxgYancW5PSASyauOL4tjxllyc6/s320/IMG_7023.JPG" /></a>Right after getting back from the tour, the Verbeke’s and I went to meet Rik's sister, Nicole, and her husband, Hugo, who live maybe 15 minutes away. Hugo is a sculptor and he showed me his workshop, his gallery, the different sculpting tools, and even explained the difference between stone and marble (marble is far more difficult to work with because it’s more crystallized). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FjdB6TafNhR6IABZ8aSZvnkXQtbdoQR49zSvw0dWJX23m-UVuSwXXg3W3e8fzu7BAiR-YfvwDvn1mRTen_wciTzvCDuMfO6aliVodHmeaHEn9zrgYQACuuZOxItyEekfDaAlyzRRfzvi/s1600/IMG_7024.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 239px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466323592737619906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FjdB6TafNhR6IABZ8aSZvnkXQtbdoQR49zSvw0dWJX23m-UVuSwXXg3W3e8fzu7BAiR-YfvwDvn1mRTen_wciTzvCDuMfO6aliVodHmeaHEn9zrgYQACuuZOxItyEekfDaAlyzRRfzvi/s320/IMG_7024.JPG" /></a>It was SO cool. I’d never seen anything like it and the smoothness of the stone compared to what it was like before being sculpted was unbelievable. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOuvOT5JGyz5vSXn-GcxScxVI1ze24NhgMNL2VNQlUE3eze37k2UalWDo_xRNL5zgcqS563i8sT_ih655ZlWyiIthWO9KQFDEtpH4x7K3IcIDyiMfeN9JBgpwEHPNrcmEhI26qLOURzBO/s1600/IMG_7028.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 272px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466321007269734338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOuvOT5JGyz5vSXn-GcxScxVI1ze24NhgMNL2VNQlUE3eze37k2UalWDo_xRNL5zgcqS563i8sT_ih655ZlWyiIthWO9KQFDEtpH4x7K3IcIDyiMfeN9JBgpwEHPNrcmEhI26qLOURzBO/s320/IMG_7028.JPG" /></a>For dinner we went to the Flemish castle of Ooidonk and ate in the carriage house next door, but not before seeing the Lys river. Dinner was magnificent: filet mignon with mushrooms accompanied with a white wine. And the conversation was even better. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0oaFja0wQ3Wy7hfdzqZIAVnFm67jM67Eg8OAMoPHWtds2DRVz80DLVSMNcS-Tz8wSDwBdQ5QawtJ4hcThZ8Y2Q5P5BsLti39WvTewA_-AXH5TtQhKrEvP7eMeW-NZ4qJY1A6_TZ6-qN0/s1600/IMG_7036.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466323585147007714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0oaFja0wQ3Wy7hfdzqZIAVnFm67jM67Eg8OAMoPHWtds2DRVz80DLVSMNcS-Tz8wSDwBdQ5QawtJ4hcThZ8Y2Q5P5BsLti39WvTewA_-AXH5TtQhKrEvP7eMeW-NZ4qJY1A6_TZ6-qN0/s320/IMG_7036.JPG" /></a>What an unforgettable day! </div><div><br />Tot ziens!</div><div><br />Heidi</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV_DMtik3Rsbuotnfxeh7RQf6kZ8cXVIEkIiHfbyVW2dKMvXnjueNHdz-8pxDQkdZVxyjQf_hL6x68rutEf2Wqh7Ep3RhXcFYymvLBkP1RggdcRO-xObaV5PFWn_-r39w1V09Ke2RIJqIU/s1600/IMG_6882.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466319303019363362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV_DMtik3Rsbuotnfxeh7RQf6kZ8cXVIEkIiHfbyVW2dKMvXnjueNHdz-8pxDQkdZVxyjQf_hL6x68rutEf2Wqh7Ep3RhXcFYymvLBkP1RggdcRO-xObaV5PFWn_-r39w1V09Ke2RIJqIU/s320/IMG_6882.JPG" /></a>P.S. The Treaty of Ghent between the US and Great Britain for the War of 1812 happened here. And there’s a LEGAL graffiti wall. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0FRwW_I62waPbe2PIXFxh1XsLu_B3ZAjTQ7iJdPA164BuWH0k6wwDpZfq61Xlhh8sbQrSLx0dT-TDJ7O24hmeuAgfne3cCyNCAZm1UhRa6m2_DaVO1nuqQWb7Tmj1k6BPo-GSTRg2MSTT/s1600/IMG_6923.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466319316376466114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0FRwW_I62waPbe2PIXFxh1XsLu_B3ZAjTQ7iJdPA164BuWH0k6wwDpZfq61Xlhh8sbQrSLx0dT-TDJ7O24hmeuAgfne3cCyNCAZm1UhRa6m2_DaVO1nuqQWb7Tmj1k6BPo-GSTRg2MSTT/s320/IMG_6923.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4wzXN7epnnBHp6hIIJ7D5R9Y7xFUQfU97flueZNlkA6GIhTECctR8jFHQxSouk-_MIwHOZpTZOVLEmbjgaGjh62Wfm1d0uHrx5xdfNrYLbY-7S_E8Toid_YSrdDksfDFAwdQlMkpNwmpM/s1600/IMG_6909.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466319309791724802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4wzXN7epnnBHp6hIIJ7D5R9Y7xFUQfU97flueZNlkA6GIhTECctR8jFHQxSouk-_MIwHOZpTZOVLEmbjgaGjh62Wfm1d0uHrx5xdfNrYLbY-7S_E8Toid_YSrdDksfDFAwdQlMkpNwmpM/s320/IMG_6909.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1JohZ3GnOMRv4-fxlQ1JfOdNSkt5OYqGvFpOvX0HbWc0Fxw2c3CIxC1BuCRCbckOZE-qYXGJKVWh3nGPNdjiRuw_Kl85eHTFCWGWfw-gulZjK1ibl5x5Ppmyzi8YhJGWFcxew5ov_41ct/s1600/IMG_6916.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466326108754133298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1JohZ3GnOMRv4-fxlQ1JfOdNSkt5OYqGvFpOvX0HbWc0Fxw2c3CIxC1BuCRCbckOZE-qYXGJKVWh3nGPNdjiRuw_Kl85eHTFCWGWfw-gulZjK1ibl5x5Ppmyzi8YhJGWFcxew5ov_41ct/s320/IMG_6916.JPG" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-77942449990995876312010-04-26T03:05:00.000-07:002010-05-03T04:32:33.547-07:00Flanders Day 1: Ghent<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnraKM9u39wXOSS1909FGkGTlOONhOAK_bFayzudXgwyGdk7h3pOCC_kvIUJbh_hlUedzef5E4IM8DxkGhUuVpii1awCSwqxf7m_Bz6p_mlVlSNiu4lL8vvNmqMMql23wyUEcBAcHhbYl/s1600/IMG_6741.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466242449761954018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnraKM9u39wXOSS1909FGkGTlOONhOAK_bFayzudXgwyGdk7h3pOCC_kvIUJbh_hlUedzef5E4IM8DxkGhUuVpii1awCSwqxf7m_Bz6p_mlVlSNiu4lL8vvNmqMMql23wyUEcBAcHhbYl/s320/IMG_6741.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3nV-kqPfmu6dtqef7O_vm5waLgMkBL9uIise5SPuqGYMmv3buMWpLgdhS1qlhVtB6GU9JbG_7jeOJsf6GpvjgUAozvasCfnO9GmN5Y9MMIW_DjR73XOWFmyPUPySdq46NduZyT6eVeBXT/s1600/IMG_6729.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 260px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 186px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466242957514966994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3nV-kqPfmu6dtqef7O_vm5waLgMkBL9uIise5SPuqGYMmv3buMWpLgdhS1qlhVtB6GU9JbG_7jeOJsf6GpvjgUAozvasCfnO9GmN5Y9MMIW_DjR73XOWFmyPUPySdq46NduZyT6eVeBXT/s320/IMG_6729.JPG" /></a>Ghent is Amazing (notice the capital “A”). The city is located in the heart of Flanders which is the north part of Belgium and includes cities like Brussels, Bruges and Antwerp. Some of the most famous Flemish painters are Peter Paul Reubens, Jan Van Eyck and both Breughels. I really had no idea what to expect, but right from the bat things went well. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPJfU2xGYWcHRa-78v5ntn7WXnQVU_3iAWXJv0LGhMtltT8iOwNfiNmWZtmTZ58Pg9aG-XNUQq5OcVmcQkfmjDeGnO4melriMudsZsjkB0vFALCluCT6Hw44oqkSzmYzM0uyZNCzr3fni0/s1600/IMG_6742.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466242441504568482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPJfU2xGYWcHRa-78v5ntn7WXnQVU_3iAWXJv0LGhMtltT8iOwNfiNmWZtmTZ58Pg9aG-XNUQq5OcVmcQkfmjDeGnO4melriMudsZsjkB0vFALCluCT6Hw44oqkSzmYzM0uyZNCzr3fni0/s320/IMG_6742.JPG" /></a>First, it was lovely having trains that went where they were supposed to, when they were supposed to. Secondly, I was again visiting some close friends, Rik and Rita Verbeke, and it was wonderful going somewhere I already knew people. (The Verbeke’s daughter and granddaughter live right next door to me back home so I’ve met them multiple times in the US.) </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQBOMMlcU3IsYUAxjNDTLrgF3_A8B7rkTL78xpChl1OpfX4WRjghQ1QpfegOcI8f7bIPkV9oHwaPvp4uUE8wZZhOftPuGnNGQA2xwPREn7aq35bwXm_iOePJ3Bf5bbsL1U_8NfDSJfDQC/s1600/IMG_6727.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 259px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466242967904752562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQBOMMlcU3IsYUAxjNDTLrgF3_A8B7rkTL78xpChl1OpfX4WRjghQ1QpfegOcI8f7bIPkV9oHwaPvp4uUE8wZZhOftPuGnNGQA2xwPREn7aq35bwXm_iOePJ3Bf5bbsL1U_8NfDSJfDQC/s320/IMG_6727.JPG" /></a>It was go, go, go from the minute I arrived (very necessary in order to fit everything in to my slightly shortened stay.) Rik met me at the train station in the late evening and we walked the ten minutes back to his and Rita’s apartment.<br />After dinner Rik dropped Anne, Astrid and me off in centre-ville <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCChEzER8qbc9Q2YE9FBDAdtONV3D8yVnWWfBmnZIA8qYV9y_T6PsunoRWxN7frQqwkk8FPYnHvsdKQWH1T8Vz_H8O2IP9VvYMdsw_ifZKsmz8LCHaEVWRfkzD3xIe6DQcsnB9QXyd8FiO/s1600/IMG_6743.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 257px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466242433014158914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCChEzER8qbc9Q2YE9FBDAdtONV3D8yVnWWfBmnZIA8qYV9y_T6PsunoRWxN7frQqwkk8FPYnHvsdKQWH1T8Vz_H8O2IP9VvYMdsw_ifZKsmz8LCHaEVWRfkzD3xIe6DQcsnB9QXyd8FiO/s320/IMG_6743.JPG" /></a>(Anne is their granddaughter and she studies at the University in Ghent. Astrid is Anne’s friend) so we could meet up with their university friends. The sun was just setting as we walked past an old church onto a bridge spanning the canal. Hordes of students were just hanging out on the river. I couldn’t believe how magical everything looked as night drew nearer. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbihOPGv5V3WoN4v2D1ApLcq-oPbpWvaXtjW3ZyVxSolFh7l5VBLOqVpP9DPiUdvc1TStNaWtA0NztffnIz-WPw92HGwXkcDydOpR9hhnpADLDCqPNciF_DbGHG5UB-Ix0VR1bp_mSf8C/s1600/IMG_6745.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 186px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466242964541573298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbihOPGv5V3WoN4v2D1ApLcq-oPbpWvaXtjW3ZyVxSolFh7l5VBLOqVpP9DPiUdvc1TStNaWtA0NztffnIz-WPw92HGwXkcDydOpR9hhnpADLDCqPNciF_DbGHG5UB-Ix0VR1bp_mSf8C/s320/IMG_6745.JPG" /></a>More incredible was the liveliness of this ancient city—both sides of the river were full of people just enjoying the nice weather. When it got colder we found a bar nearby and upstairs there were these old history buffs who had taken up half the room with a reenactment of a battle in the American Civil War. (I should have asked them why the American Civil War of all things, but unfortunately, I don’t speak Flemish.) It was a long day of traveling, but I will never forget the beauty of the canals at night.<br /></div><div>Catch ya later, alligator,<br /></div><div>Heidi </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtWra8LMRH2uR9MQ4vtNoshZE3JJV_4vtzKVHVrpMU5TwuOKDudJfo3WSTB_o1hcEfD0rSZiM2Kv6Nu4IxaknZHi8ibLpNKYSSXvg6f1ASjLvG6ZjLjNw7IHOCd_X3O8SK61d6YYp5DjzJ/s1600/IMG_6746.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466242431460396306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtWra8LMRH2uR9MQ4vtNoshZE3JJV_4vtzKVHVrpMU5TwuOKDudJfo3WSTB_o1hcEfD0rSZiM2Kv6Nu4IxaknZHi8ibLpNKYSSXvg6f1ASjLvG6ZjLjNw7IHOCd_X3O8SK61d6YYp5DjzJ/s320/IMG_6746.JPG" /></a>P.S. The Verbekes were just in the States and my parents gave them some Skippy and Jif peanut butter to give to me! I think I’m in heaven.</div><div></div><div></div><div>P.S.S. I'm a bit behind with posting so these next few dates won't actually match when I was in Belgium.</div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-41316434929691454172010-04-24T04:06:00.000-07:002010-04-30T05:56:07.377-07:00Of Ice and (Snow)Men<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbGTj1DebcDhcu3RCPFjf_qktRCahyX8vJ8kQPBzpMgkz97Yt0520_pJlBoEKCo66_VXx7v9mV9Tccn8mNeXv6uqoMjWjBqpbRHO0pKQvKGHUwl-k-ygVkQEKF6jlwHlsa66p_4gXbOYs/s1600/IMG_6658.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 333px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 195px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465234174015113266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbGTj1DebcDhcu3RCPFjf_qktRCahyX8vJ8kQPBzpMgkz97Yt0520_pJlBoEKCo66_VXx7v9mV9Tccn8mNeXv6uqoMjWjBqpbRHO0pKQvKGHUwl-k-ygVkQEKF6jlwHlsa66p_4gXbOYs/s320/IMG_6658.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="xmsonormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:arial;color:black;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A lot has happened since I last wrote, but long story short is my flight to Paris was cancelled BUT thanks to the Brunvolls I managed to get a direct flight to Belgium just two days after my original flight. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9-b_nLEqbNtIDefQWCK_rdDzV3w6NHx0pLqhVm85IgPWr2fLUhRGndpSNu4WK1Q3PgGbbNiUv0_Ctvdm0RYGH6Cwgmpuf2goYNUQfkc9CXeV2pLsirHExkQDGR9fT1nCzCY2w-S0S7Crr/s1600/IMG_6337.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 194px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465235179309630946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9-b_nLEqbNtIDefQWCK_rdDzV3w6NHx0pLqhVm85IgPWr2fLUhRGndpSNu4WK1Q3PgGbbNiUv0_Ctvdm0RYGH6Cwgmpuf2goYNUQfkc9CXeV2pLsirHExkQDGR9fT1nCzCY2w-S0S7Crr/s320/IMG_6337.JPG" /></a>During my last days in Norway I did <i>koselig</i> things like grocery shopping, cooking dinner, and even driving! In Norway! That’s one thing I definitely didn’t think I’d get to do in Europe, but I got to take Frida to swim practice. I forgot how freeing it is to be able to drive. Food shopping is extremely interesting in different countries because the products are so different. Sometimes it’s more fun to walk into a super market than visit another cathedral or museum. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWihR57HMRUfUIIQJScDFtZgjeocT-bD4_eZLLq0UYd2SzUeNAwPYfMQpeiylo03LsbeKHswW_IaJP9RaEpUtLk0zIXJLxvnakoqjUavuhALH41hKAWNir7jmMPcyxrcIwfOMmCrmOCIqA/s1600/IMG_6579.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465228223140383970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWihR57HMRUfUIIQJScDFtZgjeocT-bD4_eZLLq0UYd2SzUeNAwPYfMQpeiylo03LsbeKHswW_IaJP9RaEpUtLk0zIXJLxvnakoqjUavuhALH41hKAWNir7jmMPcyxrcIwfOMmCrmOCIqA/s320/IMG_6579.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">In one of the Norwegian grocery stores there was an aisle dedicated to Americans: Skippy peanut butter, Hershey’s syrup, marshmallow fluff and Macaroni & Cheese. </span></span></p><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="xmsonormal"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black;">On one of the days it snowed! In April! Marte and I weren’t about to let that bog us down so we threw on some warm clothes and went outside to have a snowball fight, make snow angles and build a snowman. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkBbhFp4gvsdeLkRDgTr2IZsI0hd5eTtP7yn_EwBs1jUkVUG-0-i1Aoza-K9_lhCy9hw8mK0-VS9sqMlj_c6HNuNfbjrGDE2zqnN9wKo0oXp-TSPwPXRV2wAn_MaUAFG5cIEuCIhikiX8/s1600/IMG_6625.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465230959739764530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkBbhFp4gvsdeLkRDgTr2IZsI0hd5eTtP7yn_EwBs1jUkVUG-0-i1Aoza-K9_lhCy9hw8mK0-VS9sqMlj_c6HNuNfbjrGDE2zqnN9wKo0oXp-TSPwPXRV2wAn_MaUAFG5cIEuCIhikiX8/s320/IMG_6625.JPG" /></span></a>Our snowman turned out a little creepy, but it was “the doing” and creativity that mattered. Afterwards we ate porridge, nachos, guacamole, hot chocolate and popsicles (but not at the same time). A couple days later all the snow melted in the warmth of the sun.<br /><br />Here are some random observations:<br /><br />>In Norwegian schools, they call their teachers by their first names</span>.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifORWmKIO16CVhTZNopKKnZHhgUrsE2ZX8gxYi3dRxWViiEisqC8YI6JUVP4JGeoyFpRcARBEdNv2-q814Oquf7KoMeBLbR7Il2TRzqzk47yJmmpPxHZvf-BgmKaf1by2z8UhG-4xEmklz/s1600/IMG_6620.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465228230168105170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifORWmKIO16CVhTZNopKKnZHhgUrsE2ZX8gxYi3dRxWViiEisqC8YI6JUVP4JGeoyFpRcARBEdNv2-q814Oquf7KoMeBLbR7Il2TRzqzk47yJmmpPxHZvf-BgmKaf1by2z8UhG-4xEmklz/s320/IMG_6620.JPG" /></span></a>><span style="font-family:arial;">For lunch they eat open faced sandwiches and they don’t take brown paper bags to school with them. They wrap the sandwiches in wax paper and put pieces of wax paper between each slice of bread and topping.<br /><br />>You’re not supposed to mix the cinnamon, sugar, butter and raisins in porridge like you would oatmeal, though it’s permissible.<br /><br /></span>><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdk8PF35VrMzbENdbwoGUrTZkd-Yk1gT70BvDe7cX5r3KCIC3kipPIXa95pFNy7EG9dCK9GL7-JGDtxTDFeuuKvDiDReyasSnPnWeOSoOQzbTU0ZoFMJLvBj9lcFJ9YWF_kndeJvvvnBy/s1600/IMG_6591.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 250px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 183px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465230983025140274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdk8PF35VrMzbENdbwoGUrTZkd-Yk1gT70BvDe7cX5r3KCIC3kipPIXa95pFNy7EG9dCK9GL7-JGDtxTDFeuuKvDiDReyasSnPnWeOSoOQzbTU0ZoFMJLvBj9lcFJ9YWF_kndeJvvvnBy/s320/IMG_6591.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">In Norway most second year high schoolers study abroad to improve their language skills. (For example, Frida will be staying with my family and attend my old high school in the fall.) I wish there was more of this in the US because studying abroad vastly expands one’s world view and encourages one to get out of one’s comfort zone and speak another language.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWctru5VFXxog4PFQWXVQ5NX-GeWbtSPf6edg2jrK_ISWFBCRcJKXZ_2heoVyaG4ryoZZEwjuS4TA_a3UtlYl5oqjlltSf62CXsQg3EfPQapk0X3LebE5YnULwPwt_c6vi15Y81lMtG5gW/s1600/IMG_6600.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 242px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465228242171766034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWctru5VFXxog4PFQWXVQ5NX-GeWbtSPf6edg2jrK_ISWFBCRcJKXZ_2heoVyaG4ryoZZEwjuS4TA_a3UtlYl5oqjlltSf62CXsQg3EfPQapk0X3LebE5YnULwPwt_c6vi15Y81lMtG5gW/s320/IMG_6600.JPG" /></span></a>><span style="font-family:arial;">TV shows and movies are NOT dubbed (unless it’s a cartoon film like Ice Age, Shrek or Disney). There’s simply Norwegian subtitles which is excellent for improving one’s language skills.<br /><br />>In my very humble opinion, the Molde panorama is at its best during sunrise or sunset because of the pink glow the sun casts across the snow caps. But it looks good at all times, except when there’s fog or a snowstorm—then you can’t see anything.<br /><br />>Norwegian sounds more like Chinese or Japanese than it does German.<br /><br /></span>><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAw8w96p48HdATW-29hQjE5sVzjjKMyCjRT12_uLNTmnRRPz8YnWNtfRLM_9lM0n3m5psl9gdm5m7U5p3eqDaLmq1OJ4FwVyihSMPTeOZ9qXTj51N-Qtps-HjLnWX9q5G3UK7VNL8PJPbW/s1600/IMG_6586.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465230972510009426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAw8w96p48HdATW-29hQjE5sVzjjKMyCjRT12_uLNTmnRRPz8YnWNtfRLM_9lM0n3m5psl9gdm5m7U5p3eqDaLmq1OJ4FwVyihSMPTeOZ9qXTj51N-Qtps-HjLnWX9q5G3UK7VNL8PJPbW/s320/IMG_6586.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">“Takk” means “thank you,” “nie” is “no,” “ja” is “yes,” "Norge" is " Norway," “melde” is “milk,” “ost” is “cheese,” “sjokolade” is “chocolate,” “hei” or “hallo” is “hi” and “ha det” or “ha det bra” is “goodbye” (even though you’re actually saying “Have it” or “Have it good”).<br /><br />>There is only one verb construction for pronouns. So instead of saying “I am,” You are,” and “She is,” you say “I is,” “You is,” and “She is.” This makes grammar a heck of a lot easier to learn.<br /><br />>The Troll Forests are named so because the rocks and trees drip with moss and lichen. They aren’t in a particular place, it’s just what the forests are called. I count myself lucky not to have come across any trolls.<br /><br /></span>><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYd2_oOEwDatmdW2osyNgFYqOECsNvgHBn-f1vVsE-u7H1ubRLNmQppsH0HvY1Z8WKj8PBs43UKFuZbzQUVWzvJnVDPFCksf-1CvhrSoF6ZKueJcm4Ms_7j4RkWPQySSVlF5hH7VQVu1f/s1600/IMG_6640.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 235px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465228209160865154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYd2_oOEwDatmdW2osyNgFYqOECsNvgHBn-f1vVsE-u7H1ubRLNmQppsH0HvY1Z8WKj8PBs43UKFuZbzQUVWzvJnVDPFCksf-1CvhrSoF6ZKueJcm4Ms_7j4RkWPQySSVlF5hH7VQVu1f/s320/IMG_6640.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">The back page of the Molde newspaper prints a sort of gossip column where inhabitants can argue about all sorts of things: whether cats should be put on leashes, complaints about hikers on ski trails and skiers on hiking trails (what happened to sharing?), and lost M & Ms.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_57gIFjV74bWVCjhUsAXpAI4t2eVqsJdOwHxXqMq1DpGPO8mfVzTVZKf_ANIuCGtdfXvkiHAPyjSNondbPWuRw2tBWjjGalCP3HBVY_KCaULZV7Dl0cbmNEBbQRZOsToYPMFqNSeyeTK/s1600/IMG_6617.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 238px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465230972050164306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_57gIFjV74bWVCjhUsAXpAI4t2eVqsJdOwHxXqMq1DpGPO8mfVzTVZKf_ANIuCGtdfXvkiHAPyjSNondbPWuRw2tBWjjGalCP3HBVY_KCaULZV7Dl0cbmNEBbQRZOsToYPMFqNSeyeTK/s320/IMG_6617.JPG" /></span></a>><span style="font-family:arial;">It’s hard to avoid knowing something about basketball if you live in the US, but most people have never played basketball or know what it is. During P.E. class they were just learning how to do to lay-ups. Teachers are very chill here so I got to play too and after a couple lay-ups the teacher turned to the other girls waiting in line and “She’s done that before.” When I found out what she said I started cracking up because I’m absolutely horrible at basketball and lay-ups especially.<br /></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="xmsonormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyb-uvwbUfBMIVKu0x5JzaTnz6KDOGppqK97Rg7o5TIhjj7wHdqmbp8Jbi4vgHQ2KhkV5u2FhGERLguu9dsi5p1Cw1H9NN2WBERcLIbdUapVKxWU_2NR7Yx9NI15qc8kCwt9pM8RKfJWYO/s1600/IMG_6685.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 274px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 208px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465228203531642770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyb-uvwbUfBMIVKu0x5JzaTnz6KDOGppqK97Rg7o5TIhjj7wHdqmbp8Jbi4vgHQ2KhkV5u2FhGERLguu9dsi5p1Cw1H9NN2WBERcLIbdUapVKxWU_2NR7Yx9NI15qc8kCwt9pM8RKfJWYO/s320/IMG_6685.JPG" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Saying goodbye was strange. I’d been living in Norway for about two weeks and it really came to feel like home. I’m so glad I got to spend as much time there as I did. I can’t wait to visit again in the summertime! But on to Belgium.<br /><br />Tally ho!<br />Heidi</span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFTdHlWXOlXAZk8UQ3gpFNzziQ6Wzm8tf1F3JxY_LtetBsEU5XAmeqS0ChElQaTecpPSUkiGBtDGH03uD_4aSYpbUOCAGB5Rhe7x7JcNd2_WB-2cwAA2gXTtARyN2MRKiWUfCC6ePHpczs/s1600/IMG_6413.JPG"></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-88328979618377228972010-04-17T04:45:00.000-07:002010-04-17T06:36:00.950-07:00Russ<div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_RI-kEAnSSCr0xuskJJ5iuRrbhnaJdJP5M3S5juD8FTzvvYtMxwf9UJ-34G2xlYzJ9Fz8jXFd0COTdpgTlIwLYeevKJ0c1P4EkQCgp2XwqNwXIrEmUNL306BnDg1KK5MuZF7njKjKbRF/s1600/russ+parade.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461076455673565154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_RI-kEAnSSCr0xuskJJ5iuRrbhnaJdJP5M3S5juD8FTzvvYtMxwf9UJ-34G2xlYzJ9Fz8jXFd0COTdpgTlIwLYeevKJ0c1P4EkQCgp2XwqNwXIrEmUNL306BnDg1KK5MuZF7njKjKbRF/s320/russ+parade.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><div> </div><div>Last night I went to a Russ pants decorating party at Siri’s house. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpVYpazbWLMkxsIHccOGq_3nEm0d6KyPGkWp4mz8Ci95RA5D6dAgYZX-d_c3Mps6xtROzBhzGqM281rgbA7TkcBguU6q7QHwQIKu1NzAdDMmm9KICJwyH8rlhvKXcGGnt70HKLIqUa3lM/s1600/IMG_6563.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 195px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461074841595294530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpVYpazbWLMkxsIHccOGq_3nEm0d6KyPGkWp4mz8Ci95RA5D6dAgYZX-d_c3Mps6xtROzBhzGqM281rgbA7TkcBguU6q7QHwQIKu1NzAdDMmm9KICJwyH8rlhvKXcGGnt70HKLIqUa3lM/s320/IMG_6563.JPG" /></a>The Russ (roose) are graduating Norwegian high schoolers and instead of running around in caps and gowns, they create mayhem in overalls. For 17 days (May 1 -17), the Russ are on the loose. The Russ time is one enormous party all throughout Norway during which the Russ do all these crazy things since this as seen as the last time for acting undignified and childish. Red overalls are the dominant color, but there are also blue, white, green, and black overalls (each color corresponds to what you're studying in school). </div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUItgBXtULfuYLxiOrD_E5FyKXYfoqiyPkSO2tVw0eIw1gSXwRs8_HfBfTDD6c3Y_pjc4K4R2QLoQeBNdwT5GR4f_eLN6a7MumD8R8gG51pYmwrfhOZMq6unTaa3vV8V7lSdSrJU32hq-/s1600/IMG_6578.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461073394470564274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUItgBXtULfuYLxiOrD_E5FyKXYfoqiyPkSO2tVw0eIw1gSXwRs8_HfBfTDD6c3Y_pjc4K4R2QLoQeBNdwT5GR4f_eLN6a7MumD8R8gG51pYmwrfhOZMq6unTaa3vV8V7lSdSrJU32hq-/s320/IMG_6578.JPG" /></a>Each person is given a nickname by their friends for their Russ cap and for every activity completed they get a knot or token for the black string on their cap. Some of the more harmless activities involve swimming in the ocean before May 1st, putting a “For Sale” sign on a police car, spending a school day crawling on your hands and knees, sleeping in a tree, etc, but many "tasks" involve a lot of drinking (the legal drinking age is 18 over here). Fifty crazy things earn you a silver tassel and 70 gets you a gold one. </div><div> </div><div>The Russ also ride around on red bikes or in these red cars or vans that are painted with people’s names and group names. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGeYF34TnJ7FkVh_f4EWE9xx2tKJHsz_ge-3M84175zGOptNzXDfBRjRnQE4RL35iBKUt3JNAESWzsLwFYT37vu9H0nlZY43520ILhIGn7_EnRl5neqOkT9dqUlgFh_VDasVbnlaKSsIl/s1600/IMG_6561.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461074848673665698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGeYF34TnJ7FkVh_f4EWE9xx2tKJHsz_ge-3M84175zGOptNzXDfBRjRnQE4RL35iBKUt3JNAESWzsLwFYT37vu9H0nlZY43520ILhIGn7_EnRl5neqOkT9dqUlgFh_VDasVbnlaKSsIl/s320/IMG_6561.JPG" /></a>They hand out Russ cards (mock business cards with funny pictures and sayings) and kids collect them like Pokemon cards. The festivities end on May 17th which is the Norwegian National Day. On this day everyone turns out in their <em>bunads</em> and there are tons of parades in which the Russ feature prominently. (On the 17th of May, it's also a rule that parents can't tell their kids to stop eating ice cream so you can eat as much ice cream as you want.)</div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1P8_bHyvW2wD4GZsMZH4XAJLWOkizkJVrI2NjvDpr5NcTOwXiQyEwLGwCYUfONcD03uoYjPqnzT7BpMuU8b81zLN70UgRhyWs9XGE38lwR-wWRhdobSibR7n_9jSRhZkHc67y8OCh4iLa/s1600/IMG_6574.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461073392019410786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1P8_bHyvW2wD4GZsMZH4XAJLWOkizkJVrI2NjvDpr5NcTOwXiQyEwLGwCYUfONcD03uoYjPqnzT7BpMuU8b81zLN70UgRhyWs9XGE38lwR-wWRhdobSibR7n_9jSRhZkHc67y8OCh4iLa/s320/IMG_6574.JPG" /></a>Anyway Marte and her friends needed to get their pants all decorated so we had an arts & crafts party with Norwegian waffles on the side. I got to be an honorary Russ and decorated a red shirt for the occasion. The girls got a kick out of my coat of arms--the crossed osthøvels.</div><div> </div><div>Heidi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMw51DveyXS7PnJGv-R-lQpLyMEfBGQOnfV0bWX2d7-QxEzv5XYXwUJI_7uuyTbxdq6XXWCrUj43CGxhBUiB4hu3yVXOnYsh9nIsYpMrhF7113kEvfBwFNXTgn1DCtHK0B6JMxZ-gVoyf/s1600/IMG_6468.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461073407349452914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMw51DveyXS7PnJGv-R-lQpLyMEfBGQOnfV0bWX2d7-QxEzv5XYXwUJI_7uuyTbxdq6XXWCrUj43CGxhBUiB4hu3yVXOnYsh9nIsYpMrhF7113kEvfBwFNXTgn1DCtHK0B6JMxZ-gVoyf/s320/IMG_6468.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZG4gPfSo5Qta9tSjd7TbYrFCw1FsiOBJe_t_dXdLWd7GBc8ePhTTgKWmoLOVcDE4JIBcfuqNVv9v5cyUkRL6erW__cgxg8ZXrAPU5QPdnioVVsCubXu5XBONy-QpIaq1jERrC6QM56YtI/s1600/IMG_6567.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461076899003708786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZG4gPfSo5Qta9tSjd7TbYrFCw1FsiOBJe_t_dXdLWd7GBc8ePhTTgKWmoLOVcDE4JIBcfuqNVv9v5cyUkRL6erW__cgxg8ZXrAPU5QPdnioVVsCubXu5XBONy-QpIaq1jERrC6QM56YtI/s320/IMG_6567.JPG" /></a></div><div> </div><div> </div></div></div></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXs6U5ZKOJ90Jra7xaVG8tY-_1S5hvT4hXXwJ9NRseZ5JEaEevQChoL20pYh9_XvYpkb8ZLUCIUXV9ZdrfYrCGa0hCZpVjhowRY2hNwYy1kb9aq8wmV6XJk-2WqBm4y1SgyhG5u0qAAxS/s1600/IMG_6540.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461073403766028546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXs6U5ZKOJ90Jra7xaVG8tY-_1S5hvT4hXXwJ9NRseZ5JEaEevQChoL20pYh9_XvYpkb8ZLUCIUXV9ZdrfYrCGa0hCZpVjhowRY2hNwYy1kb9aq8wmV6XJk-2WqBm4y1SgyhG5u0qAAxS/s320/IMG_6540.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAzKkMl2EQbSzb6jAaCx3-aKKPOqYEnHEs4CGZs22KCqAXMdqpkJWiiMvybv1C-bGWhNXJRUZAk41ZQ28yk-Jjw1h9qHl80ffN9Rr5oA3rrcbP89bIML0eeBcSWndpafgnpFEePBGgTPnr/s1600/IMG_6570.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461073416689829794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAzKkMl2EQbSzb6jAaCx3-aKKPOqYEnHEs4CGZs22KCqAXMdqpkJWiiMvybv1C-bGWhNXJRUZAk41ZQ28yk-Jjw1h9qHl80ffN9Rr5oA3rrcbP89bIML0eeBcSWndpafgnpFEePBGgTPnr/s320/IMG_6570.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0gQMRx__8rFUpDXqCtzG7q8_k8qsIFiAfAVH_gdAwiVKz4Pgd_vakKhUvlS-tiEkN5lbvC5UFdp0ZRCuZf2Gdx_pDY7JN_-e6oHgyFmPaEcdxlJWwzlMpCWATN8nXsbXwOvVwwusEw3gs/s1600/IMG_6559.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461076461593455202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0gQMRx__8rFUpDXqCtzG7q8_k8qsIFiAfAVH_gdAwiVKz4Pgd_vakKhUvlS-tiEkN5lbvC5UFdp0ZRCuZf2Gdx_pDY7JN_-e6oHgyFmPaEcdxlJWwzlMpCWATN8nXsbXwOvVwwusEw3gs/s320/IMG_6559.JPG" /></a></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-46474688251818031002010-04-15T03:28:00.000-07:002010-04-17T06:41:37.393-07:00It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDnDzJJu633B4_BnK3y8PoRuDnNgU33zBKW6LBJ7J7hT9ZGY8eNlG2iTXNkggj1d2vJmeJQCFmrInYvRSoDwzDTPhwv_V8AxUX9l5lXbeoxczsJVCZZPQ_oW-gl8atHP5yF7PDSlwuXRlM/s1600/IMG_6505.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461066842679389410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDnDzJJu633B4_BnK3y8PoRuDnNgU33zBKW6LBJ7J7hT9ZGY8eNlG2iTXNkggj1d2vJmeJQCFmrInYvRSoDwzDTPhwv_V8AxUX9l5lXbeoxczsJVCZZPQ_oW-gl8atHP5yF7PDSlwuXRlM/s320/IMG_6505.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXS2CKgo1W5QVhmXtWIs3zJaFZgijZOiXhHj_r393Pa46Cu11gjVZb6632JmBBoQan2z6gsqmpx5pmO-R7wcB5KcFH-gf6ZWuBAxptNZJV3TnC2-yllhxhbY9APgXAbp5SKkL0Vuf9C__g/s1600/IMG_6496.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461067326143505346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXS2CKgo1W5QVhmXtWIs3zJaFZgijZOiXhHj_r393Pa46Cu11gjVZb6632JmBBoQan2z6gsqmpx5pmO-R7wcB5KcFH-gf6ZWuBAxptNZJV3TnC2-yllhxhbY9APgXAbp5SKkL0Vuf9C__g/s320/IMG_6496.JPG" /></a>Last night we grilled hot dogs outside! It was pretty cold but with our heat lamp, blankets, layers and wood burning fire the whole thing was very <em>koselig</em> (cozy and nice and comfortable, pronounced coosh-li). We had two types of dogs, the regular ones and then these fatty ones with cheese inside (ostegrill). We wrapped them in <em>lompe</em> (this pita type bread made from potatoes). Also roasted marshmallows and made s’mores with these cookies that already have chocolate on them. And we bought these special Easter eggs with vanilla inside and melted them too. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUQshAtBVkwy4TgSWlkCPB7TaMghyphenhyphenLnv_DEMFSPppvzrs5UJA4eKZczTqaLhi3hfyBPJ2PkWi3vtrL1SXLgUn2IFWw77b_Gv-6dV92Q89Fjkyf-HCob93OYfJ9uUKycl2YzP5lcNDl_vc/s1600/IMG_6519.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 261px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461063832629935458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUQshAtBVkwy4TgSWlkCPB7TaMghyphenhyphenLnv_DEMFSPppvzrs5UJA4eKZczTqaLhi3hfyBPJ2PkWi3vtrL1SXLgUn2IFWw77b_Gv-6dV92Q89Fjkyf-HCob93OYfJ9uUKycl2YzP5lcNDl_vc/s320/IMG_6519.JPG" /></a>Today I went to the MFK (Molde Football Klub) game. I met Kine there since Marte had a huge test she needed to study for. The game was really exciting! Molde won 3-2 and I got to cheer along with everyone and sit in the nice stadium out of the rain and wind under Kine’s <em>koselig</em> blanket. It was definitely more fun than the game I saw in France. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREcIbRb8775iYBUs6K1AFVJt9CDJFy-AMprepd0xDpgCQ9xP595iHXwBH-w80_fMq5rPkdO8CHrhbKQFPrK8Y82RHVM-I6T9znNqCfBSz8Vhk1iNzbZ9h5S9fQzbkPDw0k2gZR6B1ppsp/s1600/IMG_6490.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461063853488589234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREcIbRb8775iYBUs6K1AFVJt9CDJFy-AMprepd0xDpgCQ9xP595iHXwBH-w80_fMq5rPkdO8CHrhbKQFPrK8Y82RHVM-I6T9znNqCfBSz8Vhk1iNzbZ9h5S9fQzbkPDw0k2gZR6B1ppsp/s320/IMG_6490.JPG" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREcIbRb8775iYBUs6K1AFVJt9CDJFy-AMprepd0xDpgCQ9xP595iHXwBH-w80_fMq5rPkdO8CHrhbKQFPrK8Y82RHVM-I6T9znNqCfBSz8Vhk1iNzbZ9h5S9fQzbkPDw0k2gZR6B1ppsp/s1600/IMG_6490.JPG"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREcIbRb8775iYBUs6K1AFVJt9CDJFy-AMprepd0xDpgCQ9xP595iHXwBH-w80_fMq5rPkdO8CHrhbKQFPrK8Y82RHVM-I6T9znNqCfBSz8Vhk1iNzbZ9h5S9fQzbkPDw0k2gZR6B1ppsp/s1600/IMG_6490.JPG"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>The big news of the day is the eruption of a volcano beneath Iceland’s Eyjafjallajokull (ay-yah-FYAH'-plah-yer-kuh-duhl) glacier. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNM5PXF3YaInLTfUeT9GOfGQHpUNrOz6QQduINhXBJfBHzAF1hQA5VX0qoI2Rw8cFkmfH-3dF1k1rXn-uXNQf-04jRQPgysDAuqOLBdQsgFjCucbmL5ACJ7lYDKdno08ybGHk68ATd032z/s1600/IMG_6511.JPG"></a>It’s responsible for shutting down almost all European airports (24 in France, including CDG). This is what an article on yahoo said, “The agency said Britain had not halted all flights in its space in living memory, although many were grounded after the Sept. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8NEyGDZtLsQSR9iRavwSoys32FfFMzNurFz8NMMoSf-eKfI31rPL5MjpoyruuNyvkvlRPni-umb7czf9B-rXRweYzTAY9x_aGHWKIS7I8IH_PnWgnFcOkKk68ncTVprQctcNcim8AI5X/s1600/IMG_6507.JPG"></a>11, 2001, terrorist attacks in the United States.” Over 4,000 flights have been cancelled and they have no idea how long this will last. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWHzDm4_7yR0LWMX0ZVB7aLRdIZVRza2SsBmZCCOIg8QzSVEOy46Xv2k_yaJ9FWAtIT_wnLpoIZGpqvy7unroXQn6FokiGw0iLTp7XWsIiRKx8gcH2osobteaMTAMDHiFm-saJXSUlG6Uj/s1600/IMG_6509.JPG"></a>Experts have said this could take days to clear up which would be pretty unfortunate for me since I’m supposed to fly back to France (although it wouldn’t be bad staying in Norway, it’s just I want to go to Belgium too.)</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QBApHFonRbyMjnPXgRekpvn40SstjLbpvNU7eyNkO5P1gIvUtYXO7KXEEo2NsyT6NerVL_8_lFRPmi0HOKzxBA7O-eAt0ojNVZXNzpsKD0yEfJ9IyY6c2eYRpkry3qjVklUv0dAKyK41/s1600/IMG_6531.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiruzVGdPqrL-vVQm4dYGNc_l4FBcQq2XpHIyLC_B6jvYKUNN1rO9NIQJkDZjfz19yg_Xi92TvhQWp74gzdu0cnAkcZJV915RW4N1t9CVTfuJSC6pPO2glrrWcvWTo-vVN2-aL6R5DEthiK/s1600/IMG_6531.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 273px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461068267392473778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiruzVGdPqrL-vVQm4dYGNc_l4FBcQq2XpHIyLC_B6jvYKUNN1rO9NIQJkDZjfz19yg_Xi92TvhQWp74gzdu0cnAkcZJV915RW4N1t9CVTfuJSC6pPO2glrrWcvWTo-vVN2-aL6R5DEthiK/s320/IMG_6531.JPG" /></a>Anyway it’s a huge disturbance. A bunch of world leaders were going to attend the funeral for the Polish president and it’s the Queen of Denmark’s 70th birthday so some of her royal pals were going to visit her, but can’t now, not to mention the fact that all my friends are traveling, or trying to travel, right now and can’t get to where they need to go what with the train strikes and volcanoes. What can I say? It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38yE2MusgDc-baziBb74B6Lp5dpVGDVHuDvyu-wOHl5J8KKWkunjOG_lhJwPrsG6r3nWYLYcJCf4YIQSm62tY_juveEzlaPLAc-NoY5H4YsXif_zLW7OAer2hbHjTlwu2E9GN8LTdHbdN/s1600/IMG_6534.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461066833839927218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38yE2MusgDc-baziBb74B6Lp5dpVGDVHuDvyu-wOHl5J8KKWkunjOG_lhJwPrsG6r3nWYLYcJCf4YIQSm62tY_juveEzlaPLAc-NoY5H4YsXif_zLW7OAer2hbHjTlwu2E9GN8LTdHbdN/s320/IMG_6534.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmsz26tqsbEKDkxTnWFRoUqwyhw7GiT7PahLk05ofj2c4Stn-4FyWu6heWr4mcWSkFPHfRGl60YdCnzBDQMQPVtUBbZ_m83ZUy0lfFo0W7ASnLxtexEXVM1Ox1lYRwe40uasPs3h1JEff5/s1600/IMG_6534.JPG"></a>Heidi </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>P.S. I bought my very own Norwegian <em>brunosthøvel</em> (brown cheese slicer). And it’s the cheese that’s brown, not the slicer.</div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-36147646842960000362010-04-14T05:29:00.000-07:002010-04-17T04:41:44.766-07:00“There’s no bad weather, only bad clothing”<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GdhMhKBA0lr4eX9rLtcnXSOI6N5gkDJlcxrc_PlA5spz9xjRCT28LrHhof58KNb2TNUz9atGkXmoCg4Zb0HVtq69mj_xdngAE1e_e5D_-3jfRU7tWPCwrLbytDv9Q099jXErGJuMRLAB/s1600/IMG_6403.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GdhMhKBA0lr4eX9rLtcnXSOI6N5gkDJlcxrc_PlA5spz9xjRCT28LrHhof58KNb2TNUz9atGkXmoCg4Zb0HVtq69mj_xdngAE1e_e5D_-3jfRU7tWPCwrLbytDv9Q099jXErGJuMRLAB/s1600/IMG_6403.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459973344752333234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GdhMhKBA0lr4eX9rLtcnXSOI6N5gkDJlcxrc_PlA5spz9xjRCT28LrHhof58KNb2TNUz9atGkXmoCg4Zb0HVtq69mj_xdngAE1e_e5D_-3jfRU7tWPCwrLbytDv9Q099jXErGJuMRLAB/s320/IMG_6403.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GdhMhKBA0lr4eX9rLtcnXSOI6N5gkDJlcxrc_PlA5spz9xjRCT28LrHhof58KNb2TNUz9atGkXmoCg4Zb0HVtq69mj_xdngAE1e_e5D_-3jfRU7tWPCwrLbytDv9Q099jXErGJuMRLAB/s1600/IMG_6403.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6wGnOhVweiyhPFLf982_bijp1yhyFYDPhWmstcDMEjMbnaAttvygyXNASg2xHvOAU83yjCkOPAThZcFpuJycUxDjUopbjX8jTt5luJFJAUqUbq0WOTt0Uswm8PYz6g1uZ2h1yjY9qI6p/s1600/IMG_6342.JPG"></a></div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Since coming here five days ago I’ve been all over Molde: boating to Heart Island in the fjords, exploring the troll woods, going for a joy ride and to Norwegian high school, hiking in the mountains, baking boller and eating lots of Norwegian food. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6wGnOhVweiyhPFLf982_bijp1yhyFYDPhWmstcDMEjMbnaAttvygyXNASg2xHvOAU83yjCkOPAThZcFpuJycUxDjUopbjX8jTt5luJFJAUqUbq0WOTt0Uswm8PYz6g1uZ2h1yjY9qI6p/s1600/IMG_6342.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459971636853538962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6wGnOhVweiyhPFLf982_bijp1yhyFYDPhWmstcDMEjMbnaAttvygyXNASg2xHvOAU83yjCkOPAThZcFpuJycUxDjUopbjX8jTt5luJFJAUqUbq0WOTt0Uswm8PYz6g1uZ2h1yjY9qI6p/s320/IMG_6342.JPG" /></a></div><div>I also played Norwegian catch phrase with Marte’s friends (extremely difficult if you don’t know Norwegian), went to an aerobics class, and went to a church youth group (Marte translated everything for me). Except for the whole language thing, I’m living exactly like a Norwegian and it’s fabulous. The best part about it has been staying with my friends because it’s like being with family. I feel like I have three sisters again, only their names are different: Marte, Frida and Synne (Andreas is their older brother, but he’s studying in Trondeheim right now). </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZQI2sEl6X1ktkoiLVpPPpN8A3lHTJ-h6Q_Qj-y8GuyYB7ghr2-EhavxZXQ8eIv6d-ZGR0Pp65FdFUAailAGx5wUavvpFXqPrA1koSJ46Q1NGnTy41H-pV16GFma_4UX63xVS892dAfyF/s1600/IMG_6320.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwc8_OoZlutbB_Gq-pMWL_c50wXvSz5Fr09wSE-OYpFKwedYhhNo1CWYDqa9jvZVU5WmkEFZoGkXXRjpObur2P2A6AE_2vUg4MIEjG1QZKkG2nuCgLRF1AFQVm6nVvIEUvKqMNI79KnMFL/s1600/IMG_6477.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 257px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459975714170032370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwc8_OoZlutbB_Gq-pMWL_c50wXvSz5Fr09wSE-OYpFKwedYhhNo1CWYDqa9jvZVU5WmkEFZoGkXXRjpObur2P2A6AE_2vUg4MIEjG1QZKkG2nuCgLRF1AFQVm6nVvIEUvKqMNI79KnMFL/s320/IMG_6477.JPG" /></a>I’m guessing you’ve heard of Oslo, but I doubt you’ve heard of Molde (pronounced Molda). It’s an hour’s flight northwest of Oslo and is located amongst the fjords and mountains. (The Molde panorama consists of 222 peaks.) During World War II, Molde was almost entirely destroyed and for a while the King of Norway hid in Molde. Nobel Prize winner, Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, was raised in Molde. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JOK-5eMMBWB3kO5ViOtpolMtPO7YP4Cr15SrVN37O-x19crHW86RXvswTjBRXOWRk9_kAMKRKWowtbSLd3PWORnaZe3lpCCc6dgCaRednrf8sdU3x566m60httXImuB9x03WzsDhNwpH/s1600/IMG_6320.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459976616025081554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JOK-5eMMBWB3kO5ViOtpolMtPO7YP4Cr15SrVN37O-x19crHW86RXvswTjBRXOWRk9_kAMKRKWowtbSLd3PWORnaZe3lpCCc6dgCaRednrf8sdU3x566m60httXImuB9x03WzsDhNwpH/s320/IMG_6320.JPG" /></a>It is known as the “Town of Roses” and is home to the internationally famous Molde Jazz Festival which takes place during the summer. Soccer and handball are the most popular sports (in the PE class I went to they were only just learning how to play basketball). Kroners are the currency and it’s about 6 kroners to the dollar, or 8 kroners to the euro, which you’d think would improve one’s purchasing power. But unfortunately things are really expensive. The cheapest ice cream was 10 kroners while the best was 45 kroners (about 7 dollars). Also famous is the ananasbrus, a special pineapple soda produced only in Molde. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgruBzAifLZTUhMH2QXXY5J2NNmpbMRu-uujopTjHr-Cja9nteK8tlO8UecmUGwGgkK5kRDZcy8qm0VQi71K4P9f__o8c1iBlyKLWcvY0i7W2Vv1EjCJSBoXA0OoiOLQkz8BUE3AcvtYk7L/s1600/IMG_6325.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUodRKtYf2YaboTEiRcFLbd9MZ139l0TqmiUv9aDqYDSPArxQ1K4I-tI9bzxIPbDDr-N1-AUOmXX9IZ5x9wwPN3moThNZlZiAOwU-O5AAqcUByNoSvzRs0HdRbDW3fW4NLRdBffZv0b6d-/s1600/IMG_6325.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 260px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 193px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459978936634664866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUodRKtYf2YaboTEiRcFLbd9MZ139l0TqmiUv9aDqYDSPArxQ1K4I-tI9bzxIPbDDr-N1-AUOmXX9IZ5x9wwPN3moThNZlZiAOwU-O5AAqcUByNoSvzRs0HdRbDW3fW4NLRdBffZv0b6d-/s320/IMG_6325.JPG" /></a>Norwegian breakfast, lunch and snack food consists of open faced sandwiches and as in France, bread is all important. Grocery stores have bread slicing machines, so cool! Different combination toppings for bread include: cucumbers and margarine; cheese and grapes; caviar and mayonnaise; brown cheese with or without jam; liver paste and cucmbers; cream cheese and turkey; cloud berry jam, etc. Cloud Berries are these orange raspberry-ish berries that you have to hunt for high in the mountains at the end of summer. When people locate a cloud berry spot they keep it secret because these berries are so rare. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhsCgkdDM6DJCBmOEMwEpkW4GVjGEskSmCxVSxCfoeqqH4JtnBcLki3lP_CECR2nP_c0BcoM87PQ15OrRK1UNXumxAeKq5FJ_ieALxw693qbivPYyQIUpOahpylMOS-V5XL60OlwcgUmbu/s1600/IMG_6480.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 186px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459976770431675474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhsCgkdDM6DJCBmOEMwEpkW4GVjGEskSmCxVSxCfoeqqH4JtnBcLki3lP_CECR2nP_c0BcoM87PQ15OrRK1UNXumxAeKq5FJ_ieALxw693qbivPYyQIUpOahpylMOS-V5XL60OlwcgUmbu/s320/IMG_6480.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyJLYaUPQDhxSoeIR2MSgxLbaG-8j5lmTKw3UFgqCe89jJXgyoYCpRaerc9byvRD1movPkY_e3r3bg1J_r9J1Uy4Fx4wvD3x1UA7qFZzf7ytfvHcSLIxRVlj1B_EUzipEand8u9y2tC4x/s1600/IMG_6475.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 184px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 269px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459975701966031346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyJLYaUPQDhxSoeIR2MSgxLbaG-8j5lmTKw3UFgqCe89jJXgyoYCpRaerc9byvRD1movPkY_e3r3bg1J_r9J1Uy4Fx4wvD3x1UA7qFZzf7ytfvHcSLIxRVlj1B_EUzipEand8u9y2tC4x/s320/IMG_6475.JPG" /></a>Yesterday Synne and I (with Hilde’s help) made <em>boller</em> (pronounced bola) which are sweet rolls. They’re not really that difficult to make, the only tricky part is t<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaygWz43P9N2-IgHS2GRbySzAtAKNle65THEOO8XPfPYf5-WngTQsZ5_xMiZQN4in3eOgZWzgJGxq_QsyjxDYQtXH6oEeeyLrwWDHfEB2fhNw9V4NMhBhe4axfGLhqcxehadKq5541tNXO/s1600/IMG_6384.JPG"></a>he yeast. I also figured out that cardamom is what gives <em>boller</em> its distinct smell and flavor. For the recipe, you mix a bunch of melted butter and milk with sugar, flour, cardamom and yeast. Then stir and let the dough rest. Afterwards separate the dough, roll it into balls, brush it with egg white and stick it in the oven and let the smell waft through the air. Afterwards you can eat them plain or with frosting or cheese or jam or whipped cream or butter. I hadn’t had one in years and it was delicious! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOHX_3JhiruHRlvridpqc_4k81SkhDo5o4Yexuk1v-YUkm9NHOplG_knoEzbFBF9iBFXLccs9bHy7-mWKzNvWKMYNzZ4OTypOhtr7hV0lkq-DDT4KjYZWiKnhAbpUi6RA_xCwcFuSUPRx/s1600/IMG_6485.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 234px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459978940972880322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOHX_3JhiruHRlvridpqc_4k81SkhDo5o4Yexuk1v-YUkm9NHOplG_knoEzbFBF9iBFXLccs9bHy7-mWKzNvWKMYNzZ4OTypOhtr7hV0lkq-DDT4KjYZWiKnhAbpUi6RA_xCwcFuSUPRx/s320/IMG_6485.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ0UFYP4Bt6BkF2uaNc_KpuFBXXtXGn1BSFhOzzsitelWLcRCJ71YOh1bZt6UJmNnrIUSlPlb7odbxHZcvOgsv3OXWwuuiw3adUomLmOhvaPVdwZjvUBuww7oQx1bUsZngOsBPmhkxSLdK/s1600/IMG_6485.JPG"></a></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfvYTsdRhZKMqUyy3CI9eNwUVCTIuGKcA_3QzqAieP2cW5wAC-_0tP3_SNXD7vfDjMZfpgKEcRqSBarehLgQHouUqjB71Gbny3Awll4YB2-n4eqt28WJT9KeKYlnRM9iUysgFNq40Onne/s1600/IMG_6292.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459971620261476706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfvYTsdRhZKMqUyy3CI9eNwUVCTIuGKcA_3QzqAieP2cW5wAC-_0tP3_SNXD7vfDjMZfpgKEcRqSBarehLgQHouUqjB71Gbny3Awll4YB2-n4eqt28WJT9KeKYlnRM9iUysgFNq40Onne/s320/IMG_6292.JPG" /></a>The traditional dress is the <em>bunad</em>. These outfits are worn for special occasions like baptisms and the 17th of May celebration, though Marte tells me that no one would bat an eye if someone wearing a bunad just walked into their store. For weddings everyone, except the bride, wears them since it’s like wearing your finest. The detailed embroidery and colors are remarkable and also distinguish which part of Norway you come from. </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSe88jnLImrqdLYD7w2boE9fPJdEgAZw4-l-OOLFrDSmKBeSisd73i6I80lJilhXR7GtVC_WQg5NeSewPC0ceb6U-H2hS6Yqa5GZnZvtbcUSn9-n2QZeg6fMWfi64FLwze1H0cb6MOqptQ/s1600/IMG_6450.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459973368645784050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSe88jnLImrqdLYD7w2boE9fPJdEgAZw4-l-OOLFrDSmKBeSisd73i6I80lJilhXR7GtVC_WQg5NeSewPC0ceb6U-H2hS6Yqa5GZnZvtbcUSn9-n2QZeg6fMWfi64FLwze1H0cb6MOqptQ/s320/IMG_6450.JPG" /></a>Ha det!</div><br /><div>Heidi</div><br /><div>P.S. The quote at the top is a very fitting Norwegian saying.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJMKwd573jRV2_tsY5_nS9XIlpK-OjPURKZhOkK85bRT_icRsKG2cVLIZYlBanNhms5r0OiYKpe_0i4irGusVgPcaQxM0BJzLT6wyUzXDP3AlQOtbExgEfGr9I2Do8dzdwFE-YTYW9GD-P/s1600/IMG_6370.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459973338959437698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJMKwd573jRV2_tsY5_nS9XIlpK-OjPURKZhOkK85bRT_icRsKG2cVLIZYlBanNhms5r0OiYKpe_0i4irGusVgPcaQxM0BJzLT6wyUzXDP3AlQOtbExgEfGr9I2Do8dzdwFE-YTYW9GD-P/s320/IMG_6370.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgim3kYwzh3gAHl_acYTItESBXKu587d8_Ck3hlZgfT2PL6svi-9Xwb9eAV9fJyW6yLmnsDueutl-09KnVAdAjIFDC50XHO-Fh9pZBcTY5cNtGdjf0_mLIixs-wa9zXqGL05DkrLLDBu3kN/s1600/IMG_6459.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459973356638320178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgim3kYwzh3gAHl_acYTItESBXKu587d8_Ck3hlZgfT2PL6svi-9Xwb9eAV9fJyW6yLmnsDueutl-09KnVAdAjIFDC50XHO-Fh9pZBcTY5cNtGdjf0_mLIixs-wa9zXqGL05DkrLLDBu3kN/s320/IMG_6459.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaygWz43P9N2-IgHS2GRbySzAtAKNle65THEOO8XPfPYf5-WngTQsZ5_xMiZQN4in3eOgZWzgJGxq_QsyjxDYQtXH6oEeeyLrwWDHfEB2fhNw9V4NMhBhe4axfGLhqcxehadKq5541tNXO/s1600/IMG_6384.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459973340318970386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaygWz43P9N2-IgHS2GRbySzAtAKNle65THEOO8XPfPYf5-WngTQsZ5_xMiZQN4in3eOgZWzgJGxq_QsyjxDYQtXH6oEeeyLrwWDHfEB2fhNw9V4NMhBhe4axfGLhqcxehadKq5541tNXO/s320/IMG_6384.JPG" /></a></div></div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxsEY3Sr1163fdBvasQ60GGfm8d3GDGEpqAUkIbqivuVTc0c4eOLjThGp-aImZEx9RnuBaEoOSqs78aJOfUiK_DzewYJR3ZoKuagLS9mo_tPtRVILAKxPtni_ySBC9E0svP_YeIWvAYOR/s1600/IMG_6336.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459975715607842578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxsEY3Sr1163fdBvasQ60GGfm8d3GDGEpqAUkIbqivuVTc0c4eOLjThGp-aImZEx9RnuBaEoOSqs78aJOfUiK_DzewYJR3ZoKuagLS9mo_tPtRVILAKxPtni_ySBC9E0svP_YeIWvAYOR/s320/IMG_6336.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF0p8kMq14d1_C1yxjiBjXBatqzwiYehVm8tZjnK1phkipvQzFk3KhH7yQCBtMxDYNIy8pLCP9vFiaHob9SGzGZyAk2UbGMdZZw54d1vRl_MJ61iEI32xAuyVMVim3YZLmxfxnsFcrJoKU/s1600/IMG_6289.JPG"></a>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-74426747985846420842010-04-10T16:04:00.000-07:002010-04-10T16:40:00.694-07:00Spring Break 2010<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZepmYiMR6U3FMYrYNXyRfDaitkkcmexdeQRFfy1F6VIdKRG41GynGmHhg5aVIA5EoSiytcT7OQmXRD6FAogyU86bf5g1j4k0TsDH2FSqmToDfDmYRpdcU2XO6xhaShfTC83OAaaGXwTG/s1600/IMG_6334.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458654080545946546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZepmYiMR6U3FMYrYNXyRfDaitkkcmexdeQRFfy1F6VIdKRG41GynGmHhg5aVIA5EoSiytcT7OQmXRD6FAogyU86bf5g1j4k0TsDH2FSqmToDfDmYRpdcU2XO6xhaShfTC83OAaaGXwTG/s320/IMG_6334.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQBaUN0dZS_aS_1IvXCfsPmxh28J5bgpanjbv3KwQItUKNROa_clFE32kTYBHeCnth82grDNVWW8WsoqL7-a_CT7NMUQFKT-VI9CQ0pcDuKyN82l4bIP7FIZZ439HulzmTMXh9wGMfkU4/s1600/IMG_6220.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458654284222892098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQBaUN0dZS_aS_1IvXCfsPmxh28J5bgpanjbv3KwQItUKNROa_clFE32kTYBHeCnth82grDNVWW8WsoqL7-a_CT7NMUQFKT-VI9CQ0pcDuKyN82l4bIP7FIZZ439HulzmTMXh9wGMfkU4/s320/IMG_6220.JPG" /></a>So you know how I had train problems last week? Well this week the trains decided to go on strike (or rather the people did and that meant that my trains were also on strike). This was unfortunate since I <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVVsuhBW8EeSknZKxoZNlQ0LXAG5LJ91t3Ohb_Q7Tv2vFYrhCRsc0mKf31aGIye7ZXSuxhSLnA1ah0cy5nhXUpfQlyDcse_kXqsEalmlNjKgFfgBG13sHoGAWFE9nJzJeSqk8SEHVSbq4L/s1600/IMG_6233.JPG"></a>needed to get to Charles De Gaulles airport for my flight to Oslo and then Molde (pronounce mold-a), Norway. Long story short, I had some very narrow misses with getting on the trains because basically I had to just hop on any train going where I wanted to go at the time I wanted to leave at. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Nt_TSTsyQhX8ZuL3yMv7Tdx1CxFoTzI4AsAhgyxUSOI9oPoBPk76N4oWPTj3q-XJLzBnKYZRAIUxsr6XnzjjX64opv548WAs933F3vFLgqAZCb3mSz2cjMaJCoLYRORoW_YtLUwHaOzq/s1600/IMG_6233.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458654884675419186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Nt_TSTsyQhX8ZuL3yMv7Tdx1CxFoTzI4AsAhgyxUSOI9oPoBPk76N4oWPTj3q-XJLzBnKYZRAIUxsr6XnzjjX64opv548WAs933F3vFLgqAZCb3mSz2cjMaJCoLYRORoW_YtLUwHaOzq/s320/IMG_6233.JPG" /></a>But I made it to CDG and then got to sleep for a couple hours.<br /><br />I made it to Oslo which I've decided is my favorite airport of all time. It's actually pretty. Its very well designed, easy to get around, kinda homey, and there's English everywhere. Oh and the employees get from A to B via scooters...how cool is that?!<br /><br />Slept another couple hours and then finally arrived in Molde around 8:30pm (it was a longg day since I'd gotten up around 5:30am). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs2gQF0rRs2oPKaRiCuMd27aDUdpXPegRQ-4EFSXuGtRK5Fb3bboisy68a7ajFL2tGhxW-43cnjU7N3cxKMJbux7g2S6nBnk_S7bC0R0LQI808ij1j8a0UJHddQ0bf0t_J0q7cPU_7sG9Q/s1600/IMG_6261.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458657192065534002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs2gQF0rRs2oPKaRiCuMd27aDUdpXPegRQ-4EFSXuGtRK5Fb3bboisy68a7ajFL2tGhxW-43cnjU7N3cxKMJbux7g2S6nBnk_S7bC0R0LQI808ij1j8a0UJHddQ0bf0t_J0q7cPU_7sG9Q/s320/IMG_6261.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I'm staying with some very good friends of mine, the Brunvolls. They moved back here when I was in 7th grade and I've only gotten to see them every other year or so. Anyway Norway is beautiful and they've got an amazing view, just look and see! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJqMdkICOUIiciGN6o2xI3AFOQT2Ns_I5yDmUOZDzvmtLz0cfFIeLkz0Vz0_UQQ2HKOPQd9IaMc5r8Noqq9GCWX3w0S9uL5NlfQdYMiy7qpmN01qeo_ot20RsvpDyD71IR6ZBvX-m6Isp/s1600/IMG_6280.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458653440161574514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJqMdkICOUIiciGN6o2xI3AFOQT2Ns_I5yDmUOZDzvmtLz0cfFIeLkz0Vz0_UQQ2HKOPQd9IaMc5r8Noqq9GCWX3w0S9uL5NlfQdYMiy7qpmN01qeo_ot20RsvpDyD71IR6ZBvX-m6Isp/s320/IMG_6280.JPG" /></a><br /><br />But more on Norway later.<br /><br />Ciao,<br /><br />Heidi<br /><br /><br /><p></p><p></p><p> </p><p><br /><br />P.S. I'll be here for nine days and then I go to visit my friends in Belgium!</p>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-61123895002669460422010-04-05T02:38:00.000-07:002010-04-17T02:19:21.234-07:00Joyeuses Pâques!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4McHXzAK8lCMjGUncGaKdOaBXtmIDy3s1wyKd8ZEc9qwdG6A5av2zWZV-kebG992sk9bZ5hj4Npw9Uw5lHRZmJcRtuTJ3oD_F08ztcHNz-0jYxso-nbC6HnaOufMD7EfLsInqr0ZnZZhe/s1600/IMG_6199.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457702285290867698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4McHXzAK8lCMjGUncGaKdOaBXtmIDy3s1wyKd8ZEc9qwdG6A5av2zWZV-kebG992sk9bZ5hj4Npw9Uw5lHRZmJcRtuTJ3oD_F08ztcHNz-0jYxso-nbC6HnaOufMD7EfLsInqr0ZnZZhe/s320/IMG_6199.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>You might be wondering how that Easter egg hunt turned out and I have to say it was a huge success. In fact, this Easter was one of my favorite ever. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfRxMUP38Qaul2HmJjCJgCChoZlFBqq49UyEQpt9y3Ibv9uGjSwHkMNq_7os7GIcxDVQbnqQPHaWQJEVht6pn45TtcweBz13yLtXWeUfCKAC6iVO5vqaZAaL7SQKWqqnAzpslAg91JfZKr/s1600/IMG_6070.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 260px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457700883439770354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfRxMUP38Qaul2HmJjCJgCChoZlFBqq49UyEQpt9y3Ibv9uGjSwHkMNq_7os7GIcxDVQbnqQPHaWQJEVht6pn45TtcweBz13yLtXWeUfCKAC6iVO5vqaZAaL7SQKWqqnAzpslAg91JfZKr/s320/IMG_6070.JPG" /></a>I went over to Krissy's house Sunday morning to decorate eggs and since we hadn't gotten any Easter candy yet we biked over to the supermarket and grabbed some stuff. The bike was wayy to tall for me and I had to stand on the pedals the whole time. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgbaotal-QpXUaHhcj0n31EUywru1_XcLC_xW8FCaX9nLows72O_w6XWhwWlTooEkI-5D3dTG1SjrkMz_pL7vQE73lpnCEK7Jz7h3B_UnCvMmprmAiQRaOkYJloVvs-mX3_6TxArTIWJv/s1600/IMG_6091.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457701469135201762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgbaotal-QpXUaHhcj0n31EUywru1_XcLC_xW8FCaX9nLows72O_w6XWhwWlTooEkI-5D3dTG1SjrkMz_pL7vQE73lpnCEK7Jz7h3B_UnCvMmprmAiQRaOkYJloVvs-mX3_6TxArTIWJv/s320/IMG_6091.JPG" /></a>(Also her host family's house is five stories high and looks like a museum inside. But unfortunately they aren't very nice people.)</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Krissy, Mitchell, Nolan and I decorated all 52 of our hardboiled eggs. Nolan even had egg dye that his brother had sent him. And I'd bought a bottle of cidre for the occasion and shared it with everyone. We also heard Nolan’s story about how he missed his train this weekend and got the very last room in a youth hostel. Unfortunately, he had to share with some <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-z3wpi_JH_ucyxvnT4mpQqwob3PGuuWzUcKXSuOYuLyC6BQ3dwZUZ06J9BfpLq5iOXoy6ou8cpVdD8gmQBLACXEDLn9Gn6cwGm23lr5Dt7Jb2oXlUPdgKFIAEIT2VD9LJfB2hP_-ZGbck/s1600/IMG_6101.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 262px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457700888841382786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-z3wpi_JH_ucyxvnT4mpQqwob3PGuuWzUcKXSuOYuLyC6BQ3dwZUZ06J9BfpLq5iOXoy6ou8cpVdD8gmQBLACXEDLn9Gn6cwGm23lr5Dt7Jb2oXlUPdgKFIAEIT2VD9LJfB2hP_-ZGbck/s320/IMG_6101.JPG" /></a>really creepy guys and barely slept at all. I’m grateful I didn’t have to deal with anything like that. And speaking of unfortunate events, Krissy’s entire house flooded from the fourth floor (in the US this would be the fifth floor) all the way to the rez-de-chaussée (the first floor). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR6HmB8pCCrrf2IjGI0rJgSON9y25yiig_Ggp1eHBFKwbksPMdWFOUirh-PNPJ9JR6SyJsbRpkcf72Tc7M_Rrk12HBfkgHXw2Tmdoo3YbKnnOz7HMnKxL_JOLvtejwVkXPRdc_1bv9UY3h/s1600/IMG_6102.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 264px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 193px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457701472592306898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR6HmB8pCCrrf2IjGI0rJgSON9y25yiig_Ggp1eHBFKwbksPMdWFOUirh-PNPJ9JR6SyJsbRpkcf72Tc7M_Rrk12HBfkgHXw2Tmdoo3YbKnnOz7HMnKxL_JOLvtejwVkXPRdc_1bv9UY3h/s320/IMG_6102.JPG" /></a>And Moe didn’t get to see the Garnier Opera house and Yuka didn’t either because she got sick and had to take the train to Angers from Paris. So I wasn’t the only one with problems this weekend. </div><div><br />After decorating the eggs, Mitchell and I went to the Jardin du Mail park to hide the eggs. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNir7jixxPHbafT4aOyHT-F7eM5JKWDvZtS8YkSFtqCUNeigyM6qezzPdpXc5fQFo4Raw7-PdEr7Q6HHtlOo4Bxe0s14IJx01M98qJtH10dQ04BwNy3-PqrFsMj-7GAICDeoQ7UrBgMfGk/s1600/IMG_6106.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 258px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457700895006819186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNir7jixxPHbafT4aOyHT-F7eM5JKWDvZtS8YkSFtqCUNeigyM6qezzPdpXc5fQFo4Raw7-PdEr7Q6HHtlOo4Bxe0s14IJx01M98qJtH10dQ04BwNy3-PqrFsMj-7GAICDeoQ7UrBgMfGk/s320/IMG_6106.JPG" /></a>We hid them amongst the flowers and trees surrounding the gazebo because there were about 15 different signs saying you can’t walk on the grass. I have to say my eggs were very well camouflaged. About eight other people showed up, so we told them the rules and let the hunt begin. More people were supposed to come, but honestly it didn't matter. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdc0FGYQGqXfcfMgQV36mCVSkSGraGDyxdMt6iBvpSnn-HfI4r10v3xZ9oHiTUGW54H83U2P6l-nsdI5JJecBE4GR3DRS6sQUEbsxH8yOvViHPFCxeEBR6fFpUX-9b-tQTFnHF3vnex3t/s1600/IMG_6109.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457701481449576034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdc0FGYQGqXfcfMgQV36mCVSkSGraGDyxdMt6iBvpSnn-HfI4r10v3xZ9oHiTUGW54H83U2P6l-nsdI5JJecBE4GR3DRS6sQUEbsxH8yOvViHPFCxeEBR6fFpUX-9b-tQTFnHF3vnex3t/s320/IMG_6109.JPG" /></a>Even if it had just been us decorators it would have been a blast. </div><div><br />We’d hidden 50 eggs (since we ate two) and at the end of the hunt we were still missing 7 eggs and couldn't find them because they were that well hidden. Nolan found the most (11 eggs) so he was declared the winner and given a bag of chocolate money (euros, of course). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggB2VyIbhdaTRMGTpREOxTJ-kEvfKySv7ABXVEdpKXYXk1qLO2w0b5el18AmzvOic4M6y8OdnqC7m2ElfmnFKtyKfi_nMfsPzi70wVsiXFnVuzIsB1hQ33LqZqPGtCuSbGacWZ8PkbJ6lx/s1600/IMG_6144.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457700901595403282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggB2VyIbhdaTRMGTpREOxTJ-kEvfKySv7ABXVEdpKXYXk1qLO2w0b5el18AmzvOic4M6y8OdnqC7m2ElfmnFKtyKfi_nMfsPzi70wVsiXFnVuzIsB1hQ33LqZqPGtCuSbGacWZ8PkbJ6lx/s320/IMG_6144.JPG" /></a>We’d also bought three other bags of chocolate—not Easter eggs—but fish, shrimp and turtles (leftovers from Poisson d'Avril). Afterwards we just hung out in the park eating chocolate and hard boiled eggs and doing bike rides in imitation of the pony rides. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGtZdLRoJfgZc5VRmq3qCCmnVgp0y7b9X16KFuYiIlGQXdUN2tt2AXLz8jC_ZCSYbwH9c-Y5y9ClPm3mRGahVMqrWU9cxx6HXP3l7rRwrjzE7u4rKMwW33oSTSZq9fQPBPLyBzId6_rWr/s1600/IMG_6132.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 263px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 189px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457701493723055410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGtZdLRoJfgZc5VRmq3qCCmnVgp0y7b9X16KFuYiIlGQXdUN2tt2AXLz8jC_ZCSYbwH9c-Y5y9ClPm3mRGahVMqrWU9cxx6HXP3l7rRwrjzE7u4rKMwW33oSTSZq9fQPBPLyBzId6_rWr/s320/IMG_6132.JPG" /></a>It was a gorgeous day, though it did rain for about 10 minutes right before the Easter egg hunt. </div><br /><div>Then I went to 6:30pm mass at St. Maurice cathedral and it was so beautiful inside! I actually understood the majority of what was going on and got to sing along and take communion. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXfsBT4kesatxU0baD4yOFaQEY9Pcma0OVMgC9aJw8rpJeDs40f38E5dd4c7JGROcTjPIuX3YH-HcRY4TDkitDI05RHFI5joymVcF-rH3HeIPm2Z01_HQPY6_tHjMev2PiMlnz2I1YFj1/s1600/IMG_6190.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 262px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 193px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457702299401320210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXfsBT4kesatxU0baD4yOFaQEY9Pcma0OVMgC9aJw8rpJeDs40f38E5dd4c7JGROcTjPIuX3YH-HcRY4TDkitDI05RHFI5joymVcF-rH3HeIPm2Z01_HQPY6_tHjMev2PiMlnz2I1YFj1/s320/IMG_6190.JPG" /></a>I just wish I knew all the proper responses. The music was accompanied by an acoustic guitar (I adore acoustic guitar) and the songs were led by a group of French Africans who really livened up the place. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAaCaX4byRYx36qgD7QKNwlE6SyLQS2bZanvk98QMfzcboT42kCz4_4ImxKN307LEOcy5-DQ0jXnFeKQ4jf2RVCO_2KwywjCkGxsObOKh5NRCdhT2JL_PRLpa2XV7oOj69wSZG3EC7tWsN/s1600/IMG_6198.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457701460180201842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAaCaX4byRYx36qgD7QKNwlE6SyLQS2bZanvk98QMfzcboT42kCz4_4ImxKN307LEOcy5-DQ0jXnFeKQ4jf2RVCO_2KwywjCkGxsObOKh5NRCdhT2JL_PRLpa2XV7oOj69wSZG3EC7tWsN/s320/IMG_6198.JPG" /></a>At the end of the service they were dancing and singing and they kept going until all the lights were turned off. </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv7pu8okqYLXQAJ6Hbtn4u99dPA9LK2HVCT9n-NolnnqWfcWruFhyutK25uAhlf2Uhjqtyig7cJCbxU_xjSb05YCoNDSeBDevhWFYjRICM5EyMApWsUsx3vx5nX9tPabjSH3W99ADa-7ue/s1600/IMG_6076.JPG"></a>I decided that the only thing that was missing from this Easter, other than family and friends of course, was the Polish sausage. But I think Grandma told me she'd freeze some for me. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht13rYNmkAgCKVhTwSs55QxY5M2gq8YExzHayYTV42kyLwcnt2TqgKL8s-b4rIOOqOnSlBXDkSQoMYtlISZwUgXr-0CsacprFCmFfllgezzKHgCCIeEZntpPJxZ5tz_hPZHOGk34eKE6HN/s1600/IMG_6152.JPG"></a></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht13rYNmkAgCKVhTwSs55QxY5M2gq8YExzHayYTV42kyLwcnt2TqgKL8s-b4rIOOqOnSlBXDkSQoMYtlISZwUgXr-0CsacprFCmFfllgezzKHgCCIeEZntpPJxZ5tz_hPZHOGk34eKE6HN/s1600/IMG_6152.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457702314977170834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht13rYNmkAgCKVhTwSs55QxY5M2gq8YExzHayYTV42kyLwcnt2TqgKL8s-b4rIOOqOnSlBXDkSQoMYtlISZwUgXr-0CsacprFCmFfllgezzKHgCCIeEZntpPJxZ5tz_hPZHOGk34eKE6HN/s320/IMG_6152.JPG" /></a>Happy Easter!</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Joyeuses Pâques! </div><br /><div>Heidi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHYa5ysXs_puAcveyjKU6hke4ldNoc3Thx8eNFPdMuAARz6VH-aUs16XU2grtNvr6_-4x8hq8JsL9DyFQl51SrLmeVDI4jRf6VCOsPMNvqeWBDEyfzW5hKlCQIM7sC4OhXpTmFKyyjiN49/s1600/IMG_6192.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457702293841986914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHYa5ysXs_puAcveyjKU6hke4ldNoc3Thx8eNFPdMuAARz6VH-aUs16XU2grtNvr6_-4x8hq8JsL9DyFQl51SrLmeVDI4jRf6VCOsPMNvqeWBDEyfzW5hKlCQIM7sC4OhXpTmFKyyjiN49/s320/IMG_6192.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVShyyTcSJfkEjFmTIRbTUUBWqwWDZF-xbhTLvJ5FPc9h92kdksI4afwGl_ydS-_RibWZEiGgPCo7NiJYvTM9qAxtcyl0O2IX14i9gG3A_tYBI4EeWiOPUcldFKpbUYAWNKo05T3MBoRqg/s1600/IMG_6103.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457702309194046834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVShyyTcSJfkEjFmTIRbTUUBWqwWDZF-xbhTLvJ5FPc9h92kdksI4afwGl_ydS-_RibWZEiGgPCo7NiJYvTM9qAxtcyl0O2IX14i9gG3A_tYBI4EeWiOPUcldFKpbUYAWNKo05T3MBoRqg/s320/IMG_6103.JPG" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-23759746587583271932010-04-04T16:39:00.000-07:002010-04-08T02:04:21.672-07:00C'est La Vie: Paris (and Rennes)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLXeafeDaWOCKeulDIZPP9HzY9PmtwCujrpJxTAkyoXtr1qL983qhTl0AhMeLSvhvgpYXqZ5nPB9vv8zvvTAj92mDeWwar5QQ1W7NPme8wplV9skuWJq_V7bC7h5n61WlCVra3qWQ9nJC/s1600/IMG_6046.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457545567063813186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLXeafeDaWOCKeulDIZPP9HzY9PmtwCujrpJxTAkyoXtr1qL983qhTl0AhMeLSvhvgpYXqZ5nPB9vv8zvvTAj92mDeWwar5QQ1W7NPme8wplV9skuWJq_V7bC7h5n61WlCVra3qWQ9nJC/s320/IMG_6046.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZuaQSx7GbspVqVjGWEalPSgA6OfM5n0EMTZOO0AgjdwdDGXD3yvfw1lMZ-exH3QE-6vsi6AVUBxRkS-a_HiOoMWTQ0RPHNQKo4e5aQnjOQbvPDnxoQA8AjwdXj_EFiKSJtsK2fLo-HJh/s1600/IMG_5831.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457547215044958482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZuaQSx7GbspVqVjGWEalPSgA6OfM5n0EMTZOO0AgjdwdDGXD3yvfw1lMZ-exH3QE-6vsi6AVUBxRkS-a_HiOoMWTQ0RPHNQKo4e5aQnjOQbvPDnxoQA8AjwdXj_EFiKSJtsK2fLo-HJh/s320/IMG_5831.JPG" /></a>“Ok, don’t panic. Don’t think about the fact that this is the very last train for the night or about the fact that you’re supposed to be going to Paris the next morning with your art history class or that you don’t know anyone in Rennes, and that there probably won’t be anyone to help you at the train station since it’ll be past midnight. First, figure out where Rennes is.” I pulled out Rick Steve’s guidebook from 2003 (I’d found it in the piano room of the Foyer and asked Madam if I could borrow it) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZD1OBK_Ge1g22wyBD2ykbbIn2QJyUXU9poAfo-_iFsyh-Z7qtEh58ckQFComrELuFMGy5CYsUojd4ul4LR7_lr95B7L5ay4MmFlfi-rRJut90uMJNTYljJZaqkFCdXlJ78JnCM9YFkME6/s1600/IMG_6033.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 264px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457549989480860210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZD1OBK_Ge1g22wyBD2ykbbIn2QJyUXU9poAfo-_iFsyh-Z7qtEh58ckQFComrELuFMGy5CYsUojd4ul4LR7_lr95B7L5ay4MmFlfi-rRJut90uMJNTYljJZaqkFCdXlJ78JnCM9YFkME6/s320/IMG_6033.JPG" /></a>and located Rennes. It was around 130km (80 miles) from Angers. Angers is southwest of Le Mans and Rennes is directly west so it was just like taking the wrong fork in the road. “Ok, now let’s go over your options.” I could A) Sleep in the station, but if you’ve ever been to a French train station (or any train station for that matter) they are the least comfortable and most freezing places ever. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLtv9IP2KW017uFgPktvQ_H1oVf_Og05kAe7_Qp4gNfZfWvkoadfMPkd-eDsg9NhOXLyeuFZWLon1-cc1yxTeYcVojYFSe5GsroNfQEAuKTVRi1aLm0GNZUmTagiL7xeRsa_1ub6wKwdvn/s1600/IMG_5866.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457547225830559362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLtv9IP2KW017uFgPktvQ_H1oVf_Og05kAe7_Qp4gNfZfWvkoadfMPkd-eDsg9NhOXLyeuFZWLon1-cc1yxTeYcVojYFSe5GsroNfQEAuKTVRi1aLm0GNZUmTagiL7xeRsa_1ub6wKwdvn/s320/IMG_5866.JPG" /></a>Plus I was pretty sure I wouldn’t actually be able to sleep. So that probably wasn’t the safest plan. B) Hope some nice stranger would take pity on me and somehow get me back to the station the next day, but that was also risky or C) Find a cheap hotel nearby. I decided C was my best option.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHW-43DtfMQeUG-lgmSoTJbTORvZyerEOQIfgOd-uh5TUNEGgHHmjFhYM4iJqOFjzvQixNwewpWPxUQguoBaPKCO36mkUWP27sOFR7u6ixU8U8JJMz-xbmGezY2PtG0UflSunEBs8zGDI/s1600/IMG_5839.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457545582638532994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHW-43DtfMQeUG-lgmSoTJbTORvZyerEOQIfgOd-uh5TUNEGgHHmjFhYM4iJqOFjzvQixNwewpWPxUQguoBaPKCO36mkUWP27sOFR7u6ixU8U8JJMz-xbmGezY2PtG0UflSunEBs8zGDI/s320/IMG_5839.JPG" /></a>An hour later, instead of the half hour to Angers St Laud, I found myself in Rennes with nowhere to go and no hope of getting a train in time for my 6:40am bus departure for Paris. I needed to decide if I was going to try to meet up with my art history class in Paris or just hang out in Rennes and take the train back to Angers. I never did decide what I was going to do because I was far too tired to think about it. I just figured I’d find a hotel, go to sleep and sort it out in the morning.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_m87D7EmhCi-UXnbpaSl5uqpP3bIAOc-sGx_rQ-s_myWZWGn4filshF9L5w4yxg_ijvdJ9hN5tQUoFsWz56L_0pZ-cGQeG_xPCM6u6Fg88hFAZxURdF975_Qh19SWxFxVlbo8pa4TgREK/s1600/IMG_5850.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 251px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457547220229097634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_m87D7EmhCi-UXnbpaSl5uqpP3bIAOc-sGx_rQ-s_myWZWGn4filshF9L5w4yxg_ijvdJ9hN5tQUoFsWz56L_0pZ-cGQeG_xPCM6u6Fg88hFAZxURdF975_Qh19SWxFxVlbo8pa4TgREK/s320/IMG_5850.JPG" /></a>I looked at the prices for several of the hotels across the street from the station checking the prices which are conveniently located on the doors (all the restaurants put their menus out like this too). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMld_E1fhKizqv07XXqb8468fqFA9l84NUSRp45ECUNbbGUooS-nAtsxtvlPV9bTLIPJfvsKCEEfxoAKzKQ2wvdgjgBXVxLLk6CTWomwFYkP2ygrmNZGXrBhr2cjZe5Ns-rHnLrhobmQ-o/s1600/IMG_5901.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457548214869886226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMld_E1fhKizqv07XXqb8468fqFA9l84NUSRp45ECUNbbGUooS-nAtsxtvlPV9bTLIPJfvsKCEEfxoAKzKQ2wvdgjgBXVxLLk6CTWomwFYkP2ygrmNZGXrBhr2cjZe5Ns-rHnLrhobmQ-o/s320/IMG_5901.JPG" /></a>The first hotel I looked at had a room for 110 euros and I figured at that rate I’d prefer my chances sleeping in the train station. Thankfully, I located the Hotel de Bretagne and while explaining my situation to the very nice lady there she told me things like this happened all the time and told me there was no use crying (I wasn’t crying, I think she was just letting me know that she approved of my handling of the situation). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsKC3QJwB7H_MeRA73Nt1cB-7QUgvw8pFPnZhmWwoL-lT-mUwr_Bqh0vE8_t1TuG1mpe3Pw8lCNQN5OAwuSmeQJNmLAqxpRsM-BscnHhkvNu658-z_AEUNgY7vBuKpdTZ6RzaJieniffv/s1600/IMG_5962.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457551423925533314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsKC3QJwB7H_MeRA73Nt1cB-7QUgvw8pFPnZhmWwoL-lT-mUwr_Bqh0vE8_t1TuG1mpe3Pw8lCNQN5OAwuSmeQJNmLAqxpRsM-BscnHhkvNu658-z_AEUNgY7vBuKpdTZ6RzaJieniffv/s320/IMG_5962.JPG" /></a>She also provided me with the phrase of the weekend, “C’est la vie.” Forty euros and five minutes later I was sound asleep.<br />I was woken at 6:40am by Moe’s phone call. I mumbled out some explanation in French about why I wasn’t on the bus, but I took it as a sign to go to Paris, told her I’d try to find a train, jumped out of bed and went straight to the train station to buy a ticket to Paris.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlveyE9HCKQAxpdJkUvW0I-PuyQAEaf0cpOGNgdm2bxDBSOhKzV4OY92ww_Kwpi0X6FCXPSVruiEx9UIih2f-6K_I3eyy2C_B6SBuLeDjvIJZG-Bqe3wyntodwycy6hQBUguTy-gDn8hP/s1600/IMG_5834.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457545575935068626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlveyE9HCKQAxpdJkUvW0I-PuyQAEaf0cpOGNgdm2bxDBSOhKzV4OY92ww_Kwpi0X6FCXPSVruiEx9UIih2f-6K_I3eyy2C_B6SBuLeDjvIJZG-Bqe3wyntodwycy6hQBUguTy-gDn8hP/s320/IMG_5834.JPG" /></a>I booked the 8 o’cloc<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mkk2aNKthy6HP9iycIuhc0YmOz7j7hQPyBYcfmVnlSwBVycpcuPMnhgCUOOca7wgURx-k-IlCfc8PqYCokqg8on2VSo9dCw80Lx50L_mmYb2MLdN3UOWqWX7K6-zFTlo37rF0UcBcskd/s1600/IMG_5963.JPG"></a>k train for Paris Montparnasse (with no connecting trains this time), slept the whole way and arrived in Paris at 10:45am. I promptly got lost on my way to meeting up with my art history class at the Musée d’Orsay, but thankfully there are maps posted every hundred feet and I’ve got a good sense of direction so I got unlost really quickly. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-f4wBh1JOczfxqc-8AOdA0E8ClU5w-G77Z2_EHya_n7RkQbSpc-1CztFaiUQjS3CWdeZZQurUgC3zRXf4lCR_JHy4LGPnBKISkzYHZrtJOaNeomy4tHVZhpQKJpCzDKi8VbVZUHIjooOy/s1600/IMG_6032.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457549428566873970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-f4wBh1JOczfxqc-8AOdA0E8ClU5w-G77Z2_EHya_n7RkQbSpc-1CztFaiUQjS3CWdeZZQurUgC3zRXf4lCR_JHy4LGPnBKISkzYHZrtJOaNeomy4tHVZhpQKJpCzDKi8VbVZUHIjooOy/s320/IMG_6032.JPG" /></a>Eventually, I found my way to the d’Orsay only to discover that gate B was closed and no one was there. I tried explaining to a guard that my class was inside and he told me my professor would have to come out to get me. Well that wasn’t going to happen since she was the one giving the tour so I sat around for an hour and a half reading more of <em>Isabelle</em>, watching passerbys, taking some pictures and reflecting on life and rotten luck.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQFlSIuw_D7hkzpn7TsFCNp8ivIZXve5vDzGF9EwU-2KCTpj9F5qtf0krRX_unHVtek0KmB83h_5XVTIXeA7QihyJRONFxWSpBGCM8kZqNqTeS6XKEpVTDaZXqiQNUJL7Gmq356V2BExi/s1600/IMG_5862.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457679348548851074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQFlSIuw_D7hkzpn7TsFCNp8ivIZXve5vDzGF9EwU-2KCTpj9F5qtf0krRX_unHVtek0KmB83h_5XVTIXeA7QihyJRONFxWSpBGCM8kZqNqTeS6XKEpVTDaZXqiQNUJL7Gmq356V2BExi/s320/IMG_5862.JPG" /></a>Seriously, in my entire life, I was never more homesick than in those moments. All I wanted to do was talk to my parents, my sisters, anybody and let them know how miserable I was. But I didn’t. I just remembered what the lady said, gave a huge sigh and thought “C’est la vie.” <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIysMbB1L8-r8HazX05IlNwKZN0ViEb_OeKoUaWkZTJTcnGnhwzTtu8ojfas1GsRycy24EcYDR2rBzrRbLKOA5fAeB2eOUEs7nXK0T1JGgeQK4DhT22_LbpZKdCGCNBq-iKl5uEEmHuXL7/s1600/IMG_5880.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 249px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 194px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457547240634786754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIysMbB1L8-r8HazX05IlNwKZN0ViEb_OeKoUaWkZTJTcnGnhwzTtu8ojfas1GsRycy24EcYDR2rBzrRbLKOA5fAeB2eOUEs7nXK0T1JGgeQK4DhT22_LbpZKdCGCNBq-iKl5uEEmHuXL7/s320/IMG_5880.JPG" /></a>Thinking that didn’t exactly cheer me up a whole lot, but the sight of my professor, Moe and Yuka rushing out of the building did. I explained my story in garbled French to my professor (who is, by the way, one of my favorite profs here) and found that the situation was actually humorous.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmCZdtptVDaBMXnrQWpjzswu8H7YUvytzG_xN1OsGhb-12rptvW1vrf-hBt258jR4yvtRXJYcs26zPJPHp7gd2hDCN2PsdzQTav40OSW6OSRV1U-7gZ497IgxiFA7GXVa644gSp-jXHchY/s1600/IMG_5860.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457545593410630498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmCZdtptVDaBMXnrQWpjzswu8H7YUvytzG_xN1OsGhb-12rptvW1vrf-hBt258jR4yvtRXJYcs26zPJPHp7gd2hDCN2PsdzQTav40OSW6OSRV1U-7gZ497IgxiFA7GXVa644gSp-jXHchY/s320/IMG_5860.JPG" /></a>So even though my first experiences in Paris weren’t all that pleasant, Paris is awesome. I got out of the train station and basically ran straight into the Montparnasse tower. And while trying to find the Musée d’Orsay, I snapped a photo of this awesome old building and found out two hours later that I’d actually taken a picture of the Louvre.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0WyzQsBj9XW3lVXf03E2jS_LMcr79wAhe2PSKsfo7Q8fUyKwkil4CaNKztdSC0L7iHH03DenZxQJo-wJd7aHo3pfNqVrn1yaFSFWlr7OzFin8S_nPaYnCTCSL9aX6LY6pk71mzab3cKoq/s1600/IMG_5875.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457547233801849026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0WyzQsBj9XW3lVXf03E2jS_LMcr79wAhe2PSKsfo7Q8fUyKwkil4CaNKztdSC0L7iHH03DenZxQJo-wJd7aHo3pfNqVrn1yaFSFWlr7OzFin8S_nPaYnCTCSL9aX6LY6pk71mzab3cKoq/s320/IMG_5875.JPG" /></a>Anyway, Moe, Yuka and I went to the Garnier Opera house to meet Franzesca for lunch at a Japanese restaurant down a Parisian side street and then went back to the d’Orsay to meet up with the rest of our classmates only to find we were going right back to the Opera house. On the way I was walking past this enormous building and suddenly realized that, oh HEY, that’s the pyramid which means that awesome building I just took a picture of is the LOUVRE!!! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mkk2aNKthy6HP9iycIuhc0YmOz7j7hQPyBYcfmVnlSwBVycpcuPMnhgCUOOca7wgURx-k-IlCfc8PqYCokqg8on2VSo9dCw80Lx50L_mmYb2MLdN3UOWqWX7K6-zFTlo37rF0UcBcskd/s1600/IMG_5963.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457550002700535938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mkk2aNKthy6HP9iycIuhc0YmOz7j7hQPyBYcfmVnlSwBVycpcuPMnhgCUOOca7wgURx-k-IlCfc8PqYCokqg8on2VSo9dCw80Lx50L_mmYb2MLdN3UOWqWX7K6-zFTlo37rF0UcBcskd/s320/IMG_5963.JPG" /></a>And oh HEY that’s the Eiffel Tower!!! And those are the Tuilieries Gardens!! Omgggg I’m in PARIS right now!!! After that realization, I forgot my train troubles and enjoyed just being in Paris.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhqnZyxteiCzV6799mRVxw7e1SUAe8U4V8Hjxtr3uUGkTa39vTB2T9KQtH7W0icqavBFuytIxxrIVEiT2ybrBb19fOb216YSZTkbZkz6jF46xBPoZ0VR4Of8y6yTRYdLSvcT_IFpzyh0W/s1600/IMG_5960.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457549437135663106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhqnZyxteiCzV6799mRVxw7e1SUAe8U4V8Hjxtr3uUGkTa39vTB2T9KQtH7W0icqavBFuytIxxrIVEiT2ybrBb19fOb216YSZTkbZkz6jF46xBPoZ0VR4Of8y6yTRYdLSvcT_IFpzyh0W/s320/IMG_5960.JPG" /></a>I never did get to go into the d’Orsay (don’t worry, I’m coming back to Paris again later), but I did get a guided tour of the Garnier Opera house. It was incredibly ornate and we got to see the various entrances in and out, the library, the emperor’s entrance, and the basement where some operatic costumes are kept. At one point our guide had us sit down in the middle of this room filled with chandeliers. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVR33jDTabkCsCEt6-xKL_DAO1DbXYJnLdGdy8Xz3UtdD1gET3zbPZWdEqNVJq23UCiR2OfPK348huEtt9j5NOsuI5AnQJAODk3dRr8bklSGrHmn4DNZ1-tVvT3RAXAcUPGmac1Kyq4Q3s/s1600/IMG_5909.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457548217499065922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVR33jDTabkCsCEt6-xKL_DAO1DbXYJnLdGdy8Xz3UtdD1gET3zbPZWdEqNVJq23UCiR2OfPK348huEtt9j5NOsuI5AnQJAODk3dRr8bklSGrHmn4DNZ1-tVvT3RAXAcUPGmac1Kyq4Q3s/s320/IMG_5909.JPG" /></a>I have never on any tour plopped down on a hardwood floor in the middle of a room so we could talk about the room and ceiling so this was really cool. Our guide was very knowledgeable about the mythological scenes on the ceiling and spoke slowly so we could understand. Most of the scenes deal with Orpheus because of his affinity for music.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwxM0CJjbXZWDEcI9DCR1LllA-SU-07TVHx1PsMp-q5kv30Ee9ZmwL3_96hL61hBg40c9OiyAejnNS5bwd_knOaBR-ERjbYMeb19KRlLeIsfq6F5eZIViy_BhjY3_sF8M1x7A3x10AdAa/s1600/IMG_5973.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457551412985172226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwxM0CJjbXZWDEcI9DCR1LllA-SU-07TVHx1PsMp-q5kv30Ee9ZmwL3_96hL61hBg40c9OiyAejnNS5bwd_knOaBR-ERjbYMeb19KRlLeIsfq6F5eZIViy_BhjY3_sF8M1x7A3x10AdAa/s320/IMG_5973.JPG" /></a>After the tour we were free to wander around Paris so I called Laura, one of my friends from my hometown who is studying in Paris, to find out where we should meet up. As we were talking, I accidentally pronounced the “P” in Champs Elysees and the French lady behind me shrieked “CHAMS Elysees.” <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRY2Ew-d1KYfStrRi7tvmldWjvN5VJZukuxo78UN0KqBGnMjAFC_Jo8pODkg0SQB2GP2d-SRONet-A9wy4UJ5bh_UInnlMPYJsG4uvO9rYwBkfwzMRWbfdsvBtIKCDNLcw5q55fXC1LKJG/s1600/IMG_6010.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457549996288880434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRY2Ew-d1KYfStrRi7tvmldWjvN5VJZukuxo78UN0KqBGnMjAFC_Jo8pODkg0SQB2GP2d-SRONet-A9wy4UJ5bh_UInnlMPYJsG4uvO9rYwBkfwzMRWbfdsvBtIKCDNLcw5q55fXC1LKJG/s320/IMG_6010.JPG" /></a>It’s funny I was in such a good mood at that point I just laughed, said “Merci,” and then said it correctly. (Seriously, who made her the word police? She didn’t have to have such a hissy fit over it. Like dude, I’m here to learn about your culture and study your language. When have you been to the States to learn about us?) Actually, I was thrilled to meet my first snobby Parisian (I mean it’s all you ever hear about, right?) and was so glad Paris didn’t disappoint. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO5rqXNkIluPUtVknQ-_USQgZOCkr-bsaPjBxp_bL7dNc1OCDqSSjWIhiCd1DljPun4nFHxZGKBInZK883cFwD6saUOo4J0i8nLFdO9p_-CRgId12-fVnp2E4MV3qyoZjDOEBX432foQHU/s1600/IMG_5920.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 258px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457551401582838322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO5rqXNkIluPUtVknQ-_USQgZOCkr-bsaPjBxp_bL7dNc1OCDqSSjWIhiCd1DljPun4nFHxZGKBInZK883cFwD6saUOo4J0i8nLFdO9p_-CRgId12-fVnp2E4MV3qyoZjDOEBX432foQHU/s320/IMG_5920.JPG" /></a>But seriously, they really do have a bad rep and don’t deserve it. Most people are really, really nice, but they have their rude people too, just like any other country.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rjdQb2S5wPoV_f_A787wTyeCIh-kfoU7tPUF456GQxMQOeU3iXNy8k-0FQBsZFamD4W8e04nV4BI4a0Mjf2m0pzPLX0EWJj6WZt_WbaLoxmcPUPj3hYBk-zqT-kcK3gXNCBgmZk8h1nl/s1600/IMG_6039.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 252px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457549982698247634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rjdQb2S5wPoV_f_A787wTyeCIh-kfoU7tPUF456GQxMQOeU3iXNy8k-0FQBsZFamD4W8e04nV4BI4a0Mjf2m0pzPLX0EWJj6WZt_WbaLoxmcPUPj3hYBk-zqT-kcK3gXNCBgmZk8h1nl/s320/IMG_6039.JPG" /></a>Anyway, Laura and I decided to meet at the Champs Elysees near the obelisk. It started pouring rain, but Laura, her friend, Megan, and I managed to find each other. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eYROA6l-H4r-jReNDT3gfEz-iJf_UPlWPpjGnUQAszIQ8DQiFtyRHQVtHtYzJxn-opRUrj29djwMbM98hJ2ZAIZY9GrMYVI47Ue0Z08iY3DpZdJC25GgmzWmIXurxs16qxUnIsD-EKLo/s1600/IMG_6041.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457549425997222066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eYROA6l-H4r-jReNDT3gfEz-iJf_UPlWPpjGnUQAszIQ8DQiFtyRHQVtHtYzJxn-opRUrj29djwMbM98hJ2ZAIZY9GrMYVI47Ue0Z08iY3DpZdJC25GgmzWmIXurxs16qxUnIsD-EKLo/s320/IMG_6041.JPG" /></a>We went in search of shelter at a café, but since the weather cleared up almost immediately we went back to the Champs Elysees in the direction of the Arc de Triomphe. I didn’t have much time left so I said my goodbyes at Haagen-Dazs and promised I’d be back to visit in May. I love reunions!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ4xgMoM2LAFSn1Oxg0qVARSmoNnenJPKF5x5aKF3IhzOOIkucGJEly7bqeYaYoCk8XULI47C3DyyO7U0LKPYqdEij5qX-Q9BJpBrx9SpzIKfnk-rmbtxXBLFjNi3aQfOg4qwL6sazeH70/s1600/IMG_6059.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 247px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457548236120150754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ4xgMoM2LAFSn1Oxg0qVARSmoNnenJPKF5x5aKF3IhzOOIkucGJEly7bqeYaYoCk8XULI47C3DyyO7U0LKPYqdEij5qX-Q9BJpBrx9SpzIKfnk-rmbtxXBLFjNi3aQfOg4qwL6sazeH70/s320/IMG_6059.JPG" /></a>On the way back to the bus, I passed by the Grand and Petit Palaces, crossed the Pont Alexandre which has an awesome view of the Eiffel Tower, passed the Invalides and made it back to the d’Orsay. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIn2I8XAEbfsPWcouiaY7XD4zpI31nP9oena-2q86MKOjFhsvv9SdgnVpNojFlUY7x9pQLGRlU9SEZmhA7LT_r7rwI1T1lHoX54O91A8unCY5sORImgaRa5X8Oq_0Kx6AerqQX3qMGJsQB/s1600/IMG_6053.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457549421262667074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIn2I8XAEbfsPWcouiaY7XD4zpI31nP9oena-2q86MKOjFhsvv9SdgnVpNojFlUY7x9pQLGRlU9SEZmhA7LT_r7rwI1T1lHoX54O91A8unCY5sORImgaRa5X8Oq_0Kx6AerqQX3qMGJsQB/s320/IMG_6053.JPG" /></a>We left around 8:30pm and didn’t get back to Angers till just before midnight. It was an exhausting weekend and one that I will never ever forget. It was a really good learning experience and it made me extremely grateful for credit cards and friends who can cheer you up.<br /><br />In retrospect, I remember reading Rennes on the side of the train, but for some reason, probably exhaustion, I read it as “Nantes” which is the stop right after Angers. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgnb77ov8f5yaCU-ccu8pG1vecffyVM4yvJToWNaH2f2_ZKctoBM55MMfnOuPBWaJ6chXYubKEI2m9tvlWkjnCrJzwfRNDi8ZyFUhiqAHp5JzSKO6f8Dc64tYtIFe3FCfjm3hYxkUPPuh/s1600/IMG_6054.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 247px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457550003928022050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgnb77ov8f5yaCU-ccu8pG1vecffyVM4yvJToWNaH2f2_ZKctoBM55MMfnOuPBWaJ6chXYubKEI2m9tvlWkjnCrJzwfRNDi8ZyFUhiqAHp5JzSKO6f8Dc64tYtIFe3FCfjm3hYxkUPPuh/s320/IMG_6054.JPG" /></a>At any rate, taking the wrong train is one mistake I won’t be making again considering that, other than throwing out my retainers at McDonald’s in 7th grade, it’s one of the costliest mistakes of my life (though my dad assured me there would be others…oh boy). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0wPQhCASRhbQJmwQ52nxooFHs-j6VfegFi3EhLxBjQy-2wEDh0zzpzL1BzQ-Q5Dlrg1JFaC83NMbY-1v9iu7umIWNlJPoZjj_rKauDhIR0weCqwywnOdXpn7mMqi-GVWauiOtboZy-dvm/s1600/IMG_5840.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457545590791039842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0wPQhCASRhbQJmwQ52nxooFHs-j6VfegFi3EhLxBjQy-2wEDh0zzpzL1BzQ-Q5Dlrg1JFaC83NMbY-1v9iu7umIWNlJPoZjj_rKauDhIR0weCqwywnOdXpn7mMqi-GVWauiOtboZy-dvm/s320/IMG_5840.JPG" /></a>But hey, c’est la vie!<br /><br />Heidi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HFlXedXqP2tpJGUmWKhUqKyPQJ9MJJ-3KktYFafQNNx0CVFLmfPAoZzCerAt4qXuubPmXGc-WG9cYmbMfB9q2Vo89cyIQSm9FmKhINUYQaj4RMlwRVWw-BRE7vx9qSelGn_t-GSGsTMy/s1600/IMG_6000.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 183px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 244px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457548230303116274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HFlXedXqP2tpJGUmWKhUqKyPQJ9MJJ-3KktYFafQNNx0CVFLmfPAoZzCerAt4qXuubPmXGc-WG9cYmbMfB9q2Vo89cyIQSm9FmKhINUYQaj4RMlwRVWw-BRE7vx9qSelGn_t-GSGsTMy/s320/IMG_6000.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivPY3H-UcChqzEdtilwgV9FqVfRJGVBKSkb0IrTYCc3qDHOJRFW0EqbZVczQntcwlRdOMBVNQ1d-MUe-_tLzRqM6GVDR6WUT3LbFdWJR_33LPex3cpNaSO4hbo3CIrmb_6NlZal3YOp2kf/s1600/IMG_6001.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 181px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 245px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457549415643177522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivPY3H-UcChqzEdtilwgV9FqVfRJGVBKSkb0IrTYCc3qDHOJRFW0EqbZVczQntcwlRdOMBVNQ1d-MUe-_tLzRqM6GVDR6WUT3LbFdWJR_33LPex3cpNaSO4hbo3CIrmb_6NlZal3YOp2kf/s320/IMG_6001.JPG" /></a> <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtZ2v3wD2q_O_VQRCk6CYl-aIxKiohinMc7YvqsNYhOnwdQD43D2H23fU6P7ITq992_9E4mD3m1eJJNCsRMkS_osFJZsIJt3FaWUE_00PE_GWzX9Uo_l0bn6vF0vcb2EfLu51_OVQ3op_/s1600/IMG_6009.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457679366986554738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtZ2v3wD2q_O_VQRCk6CYl-aIxKiohinMc7YvqsNYhOnwdQD43D2H23fU6P7ITq992_9E4mD3m1eJJNCsRMkS_osFJZsIJt3FaWUE_00PE_GWzX9Uo_l0bn6vF0vcb2EfLu51_OVQ3op_/s320/IMG_6009.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6l2XyZ68ZRO05IIhOE4Sm67-aYUyPrsA6el2bVKRf0JmUEBFdNUkKJzq2EvRxc1NIfHrXNVzfPKJQqt8i9ZIQrDipYuw9K42bx9-g-pnBCNQO_6L9SssMtQZ_d7MzizIpK4e7C-IhhYt/s1600/IMG_5972.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457679380268291570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6l2XyZ68ZRO05IIhOE4Sm67-aYUyPrsA6el2bVKRf0JmUEBFdNUkKJzq2EvRxc1NIfHrXNVzfPKJQqt8i9ZIQrDipYuw9K42bx9-g-pnBCNQO_6L9SssMtQZ_d7MzizIpK4e7C-IhhYt/s320/IMG_5972.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMlRO60aDllpo3eef5UoJ0-q63AmZwCe7o1diPMzeg0sZvBK3VyYwTUjzTFWX5LzGkVCQAeU-RqpaAg2596wf4MN2lWEupszAW7zFThLuC6ao4-rU-K2x_hwju_64c6b-3QUV4-DyvArVu/s1600/IMG_6030.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457679359443969378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMlRO60aDllpo3eef5UoJ0-q63AmZwCe7o1diPMzeg0sZvBK3VyYwTUjzTFWX5LzGkVCQAeU-RqpaAg2596wf4MN2lWEupszAW7zFThLuC6ao4-rU-K2x_hwju_64c6b-3QUV4-DyvArVu/s320/IMG_6030.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifk0SWsOQvcMq_YX-tGlTphJelgMeT1v1FneZJeCxi0IACnc2ZFbI2iRvn_G2LsLWpWlPYrKtwfnBUODt22JdQeFJ-TirfDq0Px0rkCRz58fCiGkT_L4GKTNc5KaAcnDdG9DD5M3DLCFu0/s1600/IMG_6055.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457679358550149186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifk0SWsOQvcMq_YX-tGlTphJelgMeT1v1FneZJeCxi0IACnc2ZFbI2iRvn_G2LsLWpWlPYrKtwfnBUODt22JdQeFJ-TirfDq0Px0rkCRz58fCiGkT_L4GKTNc5KaAcnDdG9DD5M3DLCFu0/s320/IMG_6055.JPG" /></a>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-6211985058879769652010-04-04T09:15:00.000-07:002010-04-06T09:42:06.874-07:00C'est La Vie: Versailles<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_YWv4SaYMK35We1xqR6OlJjx2eLfpRw0od9YrwZgc1XSaHUGeBe2SefN2Xcq4S9luH-mn2ZPus2eTxc87NcPVy0yWUVbKAvUOltNMrfsI8AM2ONiA2dCdLgZDBiXJ_9Kz9vu9TxHsLit/s1600/IMG_5812.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456781296682235794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_YWv4SaYMK35We1xqR6OlJjx2eLfpRw0od9YrwZgc1XSaHUGeBe2SefN2Xcq4S9luH-mn2ZPus2eTxc87NcPVy0yWUVbKAvUOltNMrfsI8AM2ONiA2dCdLgZDBiXJ_9Kz9vu9TxHsLit/s320/IMG_5812.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpeFIT3h6U8XxOcbBeyNSoYfoyYHJzAsHhAczpu1u0sydMwZPsL5axgO5G59EiIdK9koxFGUCZZok2oIZnrV7-lUwaXjsfk5VJILyAlGXkcELW_KI8T_Vio6DCJfkJmtkBv3cubX7wWXMV/s1600/IMG_5417.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456752028085169458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpeFIT3h6U8XxOcbBeyNSoYfoyYHJzAsHhAczpu1u0sydMwZPsL5axgO5G59EiIdK9koxFGUCZZok2oIZnrV7-lUwaXjsfk5VJILyAlGXkcELW_KI8T_Vio6DCJfkJmtkBv3cubX7wWXMV/s320/IMG_5417.JPG" /></a>This weekend was reflected in the weather. It was gloomy and drizzly, then sunny, then pouring rain, then hailing, then sunny again, then hailing again, and finally out came a beautiful rainbow. As I tell my story, you’ll be able to see why the temperamental weather is a good analogy for this weekend’s adventure, which will be told in two parts.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitUO_ncJCCCHh68D0Yo6fNSZirp7BVNzUxDtwe659sSyA5-hkTQp9cIqYRsGjuFcIcgoQCkLUvzb8ETippuvg5i9c0RjarGkv7feuImzO8vqDI4flHoYAYz1MleRcVIajUcbTBc1bBYK_A/s1600/IMG_5353.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 297px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456697826813127570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitUO_ncJCCCHh68D0Yo6fNSZirp7BVNzUxDtwe659sSyA5-hkTQp9cIqYRsGjuFcIcgoQCkLUvzb8ETippuvg5i9c0RjarGkv7feuImzO8vqDI4flHoYAYz1MleRcVIajUcbTBc1bBYK_A/s320/IMG_5353.JPG" /></a>On Friday morning I headed to the train station for my 6am departure for Versailles. I’d decided a couple months ago to skip class for this because I wanted to be at Versailles to see the Grandes Eaux musicales (Musical Water show) and spend the most amount of time possible at Versailles <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijrIf9vZi64YIgxpij-fHvbGoINWByaXOvyS3hmRCl3vQdP8HwWvPrU94TIL-pMkINM7xKVWK36rC2XQVssf3ML2DXFXjnlPoQc3qoVUaC55usnn-GZOTeR6vfROx3mxpcy0Q7-Dw7Ess3/s1600/IMG_5401.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456752029894610770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijrIf9vZi64YIgxpij-fHvbGoINWByaXOvyS3hmRCl3vQdP8HwWvPrU94TIL-pMkINM7xKVWK36rC2XQVssf3ML2DXFXjnlPoQc3qoVUaC55usnn-GZOTeR6vfROx3mxpcy0Q7-Dw7Ess3/s320/IMG_5401.JPG" /></a>(the trains on the weekend get to Versailles later than during the week). It was the second day of the high season which meant everything would be open longer (and be more crowded) and it was the first day for seeing the Grandes Eaux. The Grandes Eaux are special because it means that the fountains are active and period music is played all throughout the gardens. It is more expensive to go on this day, but definitely worth it, considering that the glory of Versailles is its fountains.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAbpQoNetBWGErbBtI7AwQz9A-SMR-_NFW7UaZW-v62VCBEllmrvF32OwwfR0jFUIc-b_5XlhqdFummCEDGa4Dz0kf6QT9tA-PVmRvMy6BKddf4pCC4DPDZC6OEC6vYzp_jz8S-id9Tgkl/s1600/IMG_5384.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 271px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 198px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456697824519719778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAbpQoNetBWGErbBtI7AwQz9A-SMR-_NFW7UaZW-v62VCBEllmrvF32OwwfR0jFUIc-b_5XlhqdFummCEDGa4Dz0kf6QT9tA-PVmRvMy6BKddf4pCC4DPDZC6OEC6vYzp_jz8S-id9Tgkl/s320/IMG_5384.JPG" /></a>I slept for a couple hours on the train, but was awake to catch my first glimpse of Versailles. I honestly couldn’t believe it and consciously thought, “That can’t be Versailles … it’s <em>too</em> big.” It took about 15 minutes to walk from the Versailles Chantiers station to Versailles. Along the way I passed the Hotel de Ville (town hall) and a World War II memorial. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRKhmzjjV4ui64PnRs7HrVToJxnh-s6zVMH_nxXuCyhb9xV-FFhmfo8ffwu0ifl7c9i1gC27UWsw2w3vrDGMmNkVmABr7FeOcxgL6q_2X_EKbh9D_G1JzUNPfBfceEU4tZLbo2dEOLdM6o/s1600/IMG_5506.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 294px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 203px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456770423537218770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRKhmzjjV4ui64PnRs7HrVToJxnh-s6zVMH_nxXuCyhb9xV-FFhmfo8ffwu0ifl7c9i1gC27UWsw2w3vrDGMmNkVmABr7FeOcxgL6q_2X_EKbh9D_G1JzUNPfBfceEU4tZLbo2dEOLdM6o/s320/IMG_5506.JPG" /></a>I passed by a statue of Louis XIV on a horse, went through the outer gate and then waited in an enormous line to get my passport (entrance to the palace, gardens and domain of Marie Antoinette). Then I waited in an even longer line to get into the palace. The wait was comparable to waiting in line at Disneyland. The line stretched all the way from the inner courtyard to the outer gate, but it moved quickly and only took about half an hour.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDGyVjEDbK3zQDuWcadzuHUiQuKPahdEilggWRCh7GDTAnvUc2_sxkq0HFc0JWRC8uyHSlaaN5XFPLrs3_1KmXHJ_DJnbSO0XeGXLhVb1xySi6X3FTy1faMTJTSqUP8jlMiLYlYb-1exM/s1600/IMG_5393.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 262px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456697831157926690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDGyVjEDbK3zQDuWcadzuHUiQuKPahdEilggWRCh7GDTAnvUc2_sxkq0HFc0JWRC8uyHSlaaN5XFPLrs3_1KmXHJ_DJnbSO0XeGXLhVb1xySi6X3FTy1faMTJTSqUP8jlMiLYlYb-1exM/s320/IMG_5393.JPG" /></a>The château Versailles is almost completely symmetrical. On either side are two colonnaded building with the words, “A Toutes les Gloires de la France” meaning “To all the glories of France.” The chapel on the right hand side throws off the symmetry, but in my opinion, makes it far more interesting. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSf3yq5XyFIop1vJSkewDwfZ0UUo5UtmxAB_EHDnUWBbH146nFyitlrU2bqMpm2K6JQUXuJLy86AS4GIgJkYvYABscRNsyrUg03nQjbAJGqjRMabflIm1EJoGdAUqqaxsNelk3luOtgS24/s1600/IMG_5448.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456752044538791602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSf3yq5XyFIop1vJSkewDwfZ0UUo5UtmxAB_EHDnUWBbH146nFyitlrU2bqMpm2K6JQUXuJLy86AS4GIgJkYvYABscRNsyrUg03nQjbAJGqjRMabflIm1EJoGdAUqqaxsNelk3luOtgS24/s320/IMG_5448.JPG" /></a>Alright, I thought Chambord was big (and it is for just a hunting lodge) but it can’t compete with Versailles (ironically Versailles was originally a hunting lodge as well). Versailles is absolutely gargantuan. It has 700 rooms and 67 staircases with around 6,000 paintings, 2,000 sculptures, 15,000 engravings, 2,000 windows, and over 5,000 pieces of furniture and other objects of art. I toured the King’s, Queen’s, and Dauphin’s rooms and saw an exhibition on photography of Versailles throughout the years.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJdFFqtAgiDKbMOH4dkN7hJbaHbE16aJ6iyrKDidh4xQwzysnCGqrL6vgR4cYyYooCfrdfgy7_IlrCcQiCCkQhYDqjL6eH9E3aVHGq5quIo720ePqGD4gzbUvhgFa6PL9p1OMBF9RM2X8E/s1600/IMG_5452.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456697839877822642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJdFFqtAgiDKbMOH4dkN7hJbaHbE16aJ6iyrKDidh4xQwzysnCGqrL6vgR4cYyYooCfrdfgy7_IlrCcQiCCkQhYDqjL6eH9E3aVHGq5quIo720ePqGD4gzbUvhgFa6PL9p1OMBF9RM2X8E/s320/IMG_5452.JPG" /></a>My favorite rooms in the palace were the Hall of Mirrors and the Hall of Battles. Louis XIV certainly knew what he was about when he wanted to impress people because the opulence of the Hall of Mirrors was unreal (I also had fun taking pictures of myself in the mirrors). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMOysSJPPmIVYrbEBIcKkww1uZDQN1rBZesi1P3iFmwVw_z97M8NhPpMOTv5J-6aL-wiY4HZBI88SCbNQ9SNapYNn_WOsOmkErtT7Jr3JQblPsQ1__wl5qW8nAEQ-s_VnebrsWAfgyzZ7/s1600/IMG_5490.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 282px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456752033345190802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMOysSJPPmIVYrbEBIcKkww1uZDQN1rBZesi1P3iFmwVw_z97M8NhPpMOTv5J-6aL-wiY4HZBI88SCbNQ9SNapYNn_WOsOmkErtT7Jr3JQblPsQ1__wl5qW8nAEQ-s_VnebrsWAfgyzZ7/s320/IMG_5490.JPG" /></a>The Hall of Battles featured enormous tableaux of battles throughout the centuries. Joan of Arc and George Washington were figured in some of these scenes. I also liked the bust of Champollion, the Egyptologist who is credited with first deciphering the Rosetta stone, and all of the Napoleonic imagery, especially Jacques Louis David’s masterpiece “Le Sacre du Napoleon.” The painting was basically an enormous portraiture and you couldn’t see David’s brushstrokes at all.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO443iZkBEmWOOEO08syC9UsFvT9FjRqvp9salzvWEF5IDoyypBYr52UmS5M0vwLvHmZFFSlB4mr9DvRU8Y5y_QwPi7JKGGsokhFODo6NwbOVFZi88TEW9MqwL1mPyWyrRZCv5MaJk9pc2/s1600/IMG_5645.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456778306759014562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO443iZkBEmWOOEO08syC9UsFvT9FjRqvp9salzvWEF5IDoyypBYr52UmS5M0vwLvHmZFFSlB4mr9DvRU8Y5y_QwPi7JKGGsokhFODo6NwbOVFZi88TEW9MqwL1mPyWyrRZCv5MaJk9pc2/s320/IMG_5645.JPG" /></a>While the palace itself was amazing, the grounds and gardens are what make it truly spectacular. The grounds are so extensive that even though I was at Versailles from 11am to 7pm, I still managed to miss some of the groves and fountains. In 1661, André Le Nôtre was commissioned by Louis XIV, the Sun King, to design the gardens and fountains and wow did he do an amazing job. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMG0ZO_vsJ9nUVzYuVsAvBnr-hCVsvxsdGqcms3v54qEmQAR46LzO2XX3PTbVTn4k08qRrdxx-JsheWzIggQKM8DMaH8QCv248ZlkLCBv1KIPwO53ROTlSFDxdZDEm7dumE35zooc7FZEO/s1600/IMG_5554.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 282px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456770425047317570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMG0ZO_vsJ9nUVzYuVsAvBnr-hCVsvxsdGqcms3v54qEmQAR46LzO2XX3PTbVTn4k08qRrdxx-JsheWzIggQKM8DMaH8QCv248ZlkLCBv1KIPwO53ROTlSFDxdZDEm7dumE35zooc7FZEO/s320/IMG_5554.JPG" /></a>There are approximately 50 fountains with 620 jets, 200,000 trees, 210,000 flowers, and if you were to run around the perimeter of the Grand Canal, you would have run a 5k. With so many fountains, water was, and still is, the greatest problem for Versailles. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53zaL_NWTSGpk68e3Bcl0w7tWnot8wMYaNDFKhGTna7zJaQXMIScNSrjqJYjTiADDiJBmVk5uuY2cXXQxeMf43yhLScrNrb4zg9wGblYymhKUFhihx16vqL4-voIR09pyAyypfZfTwjUC/s1600/IMG_5626.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 283px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 194px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456778299978797682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53zaL_NWTSGpk68e3Bcl0w7tWnot8wMYaNDFKhGTna7zJaQXMIScNSrjqJYjTiADDiJBmVk5uuY2cXXQxeMf43yhLScrNrb4zg9wGblYymhKUFhihx16vqL4-voIR09pyAyypfZfTwjUC/s320/IMG_5626.JPG" /></a>Louis XIV had somebody divert an entire river just so the fountains would work and there were various machines and hydraulics invented for the fountains. The Grand canal served as drainage for the fountains and a system of pumps, windmills and horsepower helped to circulate the water. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGJnF2tg7vPEcu9i8NXJwQAWaphGAHhf1N0BvXGRcGgx4AqRmNXZWYZsYmuQW_YEom4Z2_YuepSyjRRkxTAYkFv-zhFhtFGutIdbsSvv-Ae7-Ums47Rl4KEeCyN6rpQ13PV0MNmX319OP/s1600/IMG_5620.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456770436654965330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGJnF2tg7vPEcu9i8NXJwQAWaphGAHhf1N0BvXGRcGgx4AqRmNXZWYZsYmuQW_YEom4Z2_YuepSyjRRkxTAYkFv-zhFhtFGutIdbsSvv-Ae7-Ums47Rl4KEeCyN6rpQ13PV0MNmX319OP/s320/IMG_5620.JPG" /></a>Even still a system of whistles was employed by the servants so that the fountains could be turned off and on whenever the King walked by. In the Grand Canal there used to be scaled down ships, including a warship equipped with canons, and somebody even sent Louis XIV some gondoliers as gifts for use in the canal.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSqMCI_R8D0hAUgkkzpxDasJDeWm3GNV7mctuTC23d1VxjDYeRrUhlkUWDXBMn3VMfGc9x5k6QgoLXI96QWEOD8MlHuelY4SsuB_c7DGT18VQk496G8uWZWYUstB6kR4N23e0_x7bde8v/s1600/IMG_5525.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 275px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456766378438752722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSqMCI_R8D0hAUgkkzpxDasJDeWm3GNV7mctuTC23d1VxjDYeRrUhlkUWDXBMn3VMfGc9x5k6QgoLXI96QWEOD8MlHuelY4SsuB_c7DGT18VQk496G8uWZWYUstB6kR4N23e0_x7bde8v/s320/IMG_5525.JPG" /></a>When I first walked into the gardens it had just started hailing, but I was determined to see as much as possible and a little rain wasn’t going to stop me. I made my way down the massive staircase to the Orangerie. Unfortunately, since it was still pretty chilly outside the Orangerie trees weren’t in the garden. I’m sorry, the trees weren’t outside? Aren’t trees always outside? This will make more sense after I tell you that Louis XIV was the only guy in France able to grow orange trees. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWR-MKVzkCljUP0LVwh9gdQobREXClomYnpvjxYHtMI0QcbyJ_e_KSyuBJ9IFAvjT_uuf2EtKpMqx-GvnUjULyRRW8UBBJHl7KyAW_tJdAvS3t3DRSOgM6aSVxWFjZSUEBzHTsYh5w9Ca/s1600/IMG_5575.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456796627857384914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWR-MKVzkCljUP0LVwh9gdQobREXClomYnpvjxYHtMI0QcbyJ_e_KSyuBJ9IFAvjT_uuf2EtKpMqx-GvnUjULyRRW8UBBJHl7KyAW_tJdAvS3t3DRSOgM6aSVxWFjZSUEBzHTsYh5w9Ca/s320/IMG_5575.JPG" /></a>The way he did this was by keeping all the orange, pomegranate, and palm trees in boxes which were moved inside during the winter and outside during the summer. I guess he must have really loved oranges.<br /><br />After a while the rain stopped and then someone announced over the speaker system that the Grandes Eaux would begin. I watched as the fountains sprang to life under the magical influence of music. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEika_i7E_SO4UXi2bs_7pqSQuaFF59Bt0AqPPEpXlXuz-4rS0kHreXJKnuEGIspWLbkqTW6VQT0EN5Xbf94U0n-fh5bYctkuASxqrGgyBBWkwjKsoXCtQz2tbVpIZ_It1FV2Ycu7dP7ldMx/s1600/IMG_5573.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 303px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 219px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456770450143002658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEika_i7E_SO4UXi2bs_7pqSQuaFF59Bt0AqPPEpXlXuz-4rS0kHreXJKnuEGIspWLbkqTW6VQT0EN5Xbf94U0n-fh5bYctkuASxqrGgyBBWkwjKsoXCtQz2tbVpIZ_It1FV2Ycu7dP7ldMx/s320/IMG_5573.JPG" /></a>It totally reminded me of Disney’s <em>Fantasia</em>. My two favorite fountains were the Colonnade and Mirror Fountains. In the center of the Colonnade fountain is a stature of Pluto abducting Persephone. For some reason this has always been one of my favorite myths. The story goes that Pluto fell in love with Persephone, daughter of Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, and took her with him into the underworld. He was ordered by Zeus to give her back to Demeter, but unfortunately Persephone ate seven seeds from a pomegranate. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBJryCuTywdJTR0VEy7eZvoP0xZbuFpxrIiOxUONTOkIO6-jbqbDCtZSiWWrDAv441gpWeQeW6-WLfLlMPxyneuXaX20aqcYBlx0LwlLAbjDMLcR22LHKhorFtIYRLr0TtoPezRlSr0CI/s1600/IMG_5595.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 288px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456766405643684722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBJryCuTywdJTR0VEy7eZvoP0xZbuFpxrIiOxUONTOkIO6-jbqbDCtZSiWWrDAv441gpWeQeW6-WLfLlMPxyneuXaX20aqcYBlx0LwlLAbjDMLcR22LHKhorFtIYRLr0TtoPezRlSr0CI/s320/IMG_5595.JPG" /></a>Thus Persephone had to live seven months of the year in the Underworld during (fall and winter) and could only be above ground with her mother for five months (spring and summer). That’s an extremely brief account of the story, but it’ll have to do.<br />The Mirror fountain was located near the King’s Garden and it was cool because it danced around to the music. See below.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwtHIJuYyvXkMCKacXtBsVFokMyr9_1VRCUlZzaWzjCTaBkJYQIaFthjDYDymUchktCi6aK96DV-H_-SoBIww' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhShDYQismE2KtSH9rDcuwi0m8CY-xhlTlei5c_mV3IEz6bD4Hd2O3cNwrAAK4VVN-xIMmsqD70SUYXQPpmdPpfh7j9TYgipQgQ8p7IgiUwwqTQuNPpU5Vu6jQFayQ95qdKTIRgzLD-sv77/s1600/IMG_5732.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 270px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 189px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456784371595115826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhShDYQismE2KtSH9rDcuwi0m8CY-xhlTlei5c_mV3IEz6bD4Hd2O3cNwrAAK4VVN-xIMmsqD70SUYXQPpmdPpfh7j9TYgipQgQ8p7IgiUwwqTQuNPpU5Vu6jQFayQ95qdKTIRgzLD-sv77/s320/IMG_5732.JPG" /></a>My absolute favorite part of Versailles was the domain of Marie Antoinette. The Grand and Petit Trianons and the Hameau (Hamlet) were so homey and idyllic: I don’t blame her for wanting to spend time there away from the palace. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHNO3_xXBTPJR26iaZgegyYqJi4yBv3s8qE9QOhOXNoWntl8TjQvYhLPvqudznttS9zKWL1IF6Zngsd-ss20j9MUK4r_DkoJgYF_lOiFdDXcdFun3dErLVhyq5aDkS7RFxoMfRLAYL5QX/s1600/IMG_5705.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456773758373834690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHNO3_xXBTPJR26iaZgegyYqJi4yBv3s8qE9QOhOXNoWntl8TjQvYhLPvqudznttS9zKWL1IF6Zngsd-ss20j9MUK4r_DkoJgYF_lOiFdDXcdFun3dErLVhyq5aDkS7RFxoMfRLAYL5QX/s320/IMG_5705.JPG" /></a>The trianons were light and airy, very feminine with great attention paid to the smallest details (like the curtains and tassels). Either Marie Antoinette had a lot of help picking things out, or else she had very good taste because the trianons were exquisite.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAyW1ceGZHLKSB-4nKeVI1cP4PNN_zx25WtaqXwB0bEwH7Z7uIoVkki4f6-1WFWUwRs1XgL8YgTCcttkdgc6puI4R3RWevlxDsk-HE-tlrrPLcPWir98qjYaPeaynnZ8Uh8S3e2PyPyUCp/s1600/IMG_5696.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456778316310608930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAyW1ceGZHLKSB-4nKeVI1cP4PNN_zx25WtaqXwB0bEwH7Z7uIoVkki4f6-1WFWUwRs1XgL8YgTCcttkdgc6puI4R3RWevlxDsk-HE-tlrrPLcPWir98qjYaPeaynnZ8Uh8S3e2PyPyUCp/s320/IMG_5696.JPG" /></a>The buildings were small and comfortable because their purpose wasn’t to impress people.<br />On the Trianon grounds were a grotto, rock formation, theatre, pavilion, belvedere, and Temple of Love. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR9_p9Evs64Gzj7JPpLzS_Shp-JRSjfiahyphenhyphennUYDRyIoEwCFHqmLr6Rs7kh3oWDFLFWhbe7qdFgMAxhJugbLqSrOJ5KFfbUYUo_xOWaTu3B8Hm0XVKAejGVKFyarP9_MvDYan9gAl28XsGe/s1600/IMG_5685.JPG"></a>The Hamlet included a mill, dairy, pond and Marlborough tower. It was picturesque and its beauty was only accentuated by the rainbow which stretched across the sky. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxG1MbalitLSIop43kkLeAEHcyq-jbO2yZKHU2bc9B9sGQ3KC4sP9snHNsD4h9SnrRBqdJnHMOTHRhqgibhsIghjFbwRZkHmlnvULsA_RTf02TPBMp4AemgveJoHVcWBOz3WvKGoA9Sid/s1600/IMG_5748.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 275px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 206px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456783328314997698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxG1MbalitLSIop43kkLeAEHcyq-jbO2yZKHU2bc9B9sGQ3KC4sP9snHNsD4h9SnrRBqdJnHMOTHRhqgibhsIghjFbwRZkHmlnvULsA_RTf02TPBMp4AemgveJoHVcWBOz3WvKGoA9Sid/s320/IMG_5748.JPG" /></a>The only thing I wish I could have taken a picture of was her theatre. It wasn’t red and gold like most, but blue, white and gold.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Mo__YmtIETxZy2RJvXSV23Mowss7k-ZETxyMJ_ifdx7WxzNEtBugFEX_eWphbJidhTRaLFXCizqYknLp1S2CJQLjwMCk_6Klq5PFKKtziLe5qox3yjWTLw1MmnRwSKPQGuF3H3CQOY76/s1600/IMG_5688.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 273px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456778312638583298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Mo__YmtIETxZy2RJvXSV23Mowss7k-ZETxyMJ_ifdx7WxzNEtBugFEX_eWphbJidhTRaLFXCizqYknLp1S2CJQLjwMCk_6Klq5PFKKtziLe5qox3yjWTLw1MmnRwSKPQGuF3H3CQOY76/s320/IMG_5688.JPG" /></a>By the time I left the farm it was around 6pm and I had to walk all the way back to the palace. My feet were really starting to protest that they couldn’t walk anymore, but I just kept going. (I think I must have walked something like 27 miles. No wonder my feet hurt.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG4sRdgyDv9_NVEGll-ar5J1lWsLEM1usTaPr-SvJn9_Pv717ae_vMzTRGOq7QguTszc-qnjfjT1gYhshnusy4GTO8Xr4_5PUQPRMXFaAVFtGAiQWoXuP6Ix-mMsHpy9EuHtvAL_fkmDS1/s1600/IMG_5759.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456781281647366658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG4sRdgyDv9_NVEGll-ar5J1lWsLEM1usTaPr-SvJn9_Pv717ae_vMzTRGOq7QguTszc-qnjfjT1gYhshnusy4GTO8Xr4_5PUQPRMXFaAVFtGAiQWoXuP6Ix-mMsHpy9EuHtvAL_fkmDS1/s320/IMG_5759.JPG" /></a>I am so glad that I stayed as long as I did because Versailles was so beautiful with the fading sun shining down on its façade. I’m really tempted to go back to Versailles to see the Grandes Eaux Nocturnes or just walk around the gardens again.<br /><br />I had to get back to the train station for my 7:45 departure and along the way I stopped at a boulangerie to grab a mushroom quiche and chocolate sable cookie. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrcyFDSqsKso6_qAiyurIM9eRN8Vlzfggc11AsffwvlCzZiSipECQRs9q3U61n1avLDe4hoG5t7UjUYoPZks-z9cCBBsUWw_zGvKy2c-R4jLZIl7a5vQUgwpbF0I1I5Atrg4WERToBJxW8/s1600/IMG_5757.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 275px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456783334687949538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrcyFDSqsKso6_qAiyurIM9eRN8Vlzfggc11AsffwvlCzZiSipECQRs9q3U61n1avLDe4hoG5t7UjUYoPZks-z9cCBBsUWw_zGvKy2c-R4jLZIl7a5vQUgwpbF0I1I5Atrg4WERToBJxW8/s320/IMG_5757.JPG" /></a>Food never tasted so good, especially since all I’d munched on all day were two apples, three rolls of brioche and an orange.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQH3EWrzaHq_TJorGSjLmOlkl7NG_9gcgiX3zleImDHIdZENF3mQ_GFS5BwfNX22I2iKzcDnxPjtWy0mFaQA-3Z_v2FBBFg9m_ATxm-UWWEz8vP87Nfx5Onudgt0jkNayW_Mag5okgpN1/s1600/IMG_5722.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456781265789099666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQH3EWrzaHq_TJorGSjLmOlkl7NG_9gcgiX3zleImDHIdZENF3mQ_GFS5BwfNX22I2iKzcDnxPjtWy0mFaQA-3Z_v2FBBFg9m_ATxm-UWWEz8vP87Nfx5Onudgt0jkNayW_Mag5okgpN1/s320/IMG_5722.JPG" /></a>After nine hours of just walking around my legs were dead tired and I couldn’t wait to be able to sit down on the train and sleep for the next two hours. Little did I know that 8 o’clock is just about the worst time you can board a train that had just come from Paris. The train was crazily jam packed and I barely managed to get on. I had to stand up and I didn’t even have a railing to hold on to so whenever the train slowed down or went faster I’d bump into people so that I wouldn’t fall. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Kswec0sMrWPhRFvfXLYZi5x4O3mjbhQKxdijmlQjsE58KXzV53uXsvP2hRvcMVZ14tCHeqAJ4L2z8sHu7pHBVu3tM8x7m-sdKS6CaP2x0GVzRQibypp7tcdifvggm2Ljrp8tMCvRxKwD/s1600/IMG_5632.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 282px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456773743415197234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Kswec0sMrWPhRFvfXLYZi5x4O3mjbhQKxdijmlQjsE58KXzV53uXsvP2hRvcMVZ14tCHeqAJ4L2z8sHu7pHBVu3tM8x7m-sdKS6CaP2x0GVzRQibypp7tcdifvggm2Ljrp8tMCvRxKwD/s320/IMG_5632.JPG" /></a>Two stops later the train had cleared out enough so that I was able to grab a seat. Thank goodness because I don’t think my legs could have handled that for much longer. I decided I couldn’t go to sleep so I read part of <em>Isabelle </em>by Andre Gide, my homework for lit class. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpKcTCDWRuvtlh2JCvIkM1lpoH5vhKNyTPVl3GSDxdnABBhyphenhyphen53lMy_Qkzl2YFZUp2Ny8vh4Q4vmB7LugLfBafd5zNPMlXehErl3xE8aGJV4-Kb5gSwL29C7AdLChYEPha-p-pRCrJFwiX/s1600/IMG_5654.JPG"></a>I got off at Le Mans and waited for my connecting train.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinuXWyvz8hTm43jomo5m8rzYfTgMYoBmyrnDDTvuhVBh7HQH9_3XOowRa8ElGYMtv1Ay19QwGuz4Uh3_VkPd3-eaO4RU3ilrnugC41DmcjGGqOMiKCGoo2_8uq98YjQdXk35v5QoYTfpiX/s1600/IMG_5775.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456784377249483858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinuXWyvz8hTm43jomo5m8rzYfTgMYoBmyrnDDTvuhVBh7HQH9_3XOowRa8ElGYMtv1Ay19QwGuz4Uh3_VkPd3-eaO4RU3ilrnugC41DmcjGGqOMiKCGoo2_8uq98YjQdXk35v5QoYTfpiX/s320/IMG_5775.JPG" /></a>The departure board said the TGV to Angers/Nantes would be at track 4 so that’s where I went. The train was ten minutes late because of the rain, but I boarded it and grabbed a seat. I was so exhausted and so grateful that I’d be back in Angers in half an hour. But as we were leaving the station the lady announced that this would be an hour long non-stop trip to Rennes <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-d1dRapy5Jqp-AKmC1d7lTATtCvMSL9fse9ARRWkDphX1DVV5U4IhWtdkj0PPfUl6G0Gl-28komtVjfzfL1xUnQxWjNVmEUZ1x7K28fDFtVxDe8wvY2Fk5JmMxk8Pp1WYjpa7Y8GrIDbq/s1600/IMG_5609.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456773729499392258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-d1dRapy5Jqp-AKmC1d7lTATtCvMSL9fse9ARRWkDphX1DVV5U4IhWtdkj0PPfUl6G0Gl-28komtVjfzfL1xUnQxWjNVmEUZ1x7K28fDFtVxDe8wvY2Fk5JmMxk8Pp1WYjpa7Y8GrIDbq/s320/IMG_5609.JPG" /></a>and that she wouldn’t bother us again because a lot of people wanted to sleep. Hold on…Rennes?? I’m on a train to RENNES? Where the heck is Rennes?!?<br /><br />To be continued...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZvpelQVL2DaCWIswvYyNT-14_wp8yuOx4YxBnRBKXQX-IePfkDRuZ5xVdwQS0Jh1jXGnUKjBzLTl08uTEwqayotEB96da-4cDPwJSpoyvY73fPpbfLRhkW_syutbTU-fHt34QXyZzc19G/s1600/IMG_5562.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456785966462823250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZvpelQVL2DaCWIswvYyNT-14_wp8yuOx4YxBnRBKXQX-IePfkDRuZ5xVdwQS0Jh1jXGnUKjBzLTl08uTEwqayotEB96da-4cDPwJSpoyvY73fPpbfLRhkW_syutbTU-fHt34QXyZzc19G/s320/IMG_5562.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLifMxZIcmcubqxWV_9Ik3zMlcbqxWgkWwhT2mylrNuZOKbQv0qPJ8awccudlvc6MkRb5piVs39Qcgnol5hHMYm9lOpnukT_uH_yNSCXXzb3eB7uKAMJ7rfVfc5tLE22A2FT_jEunXmZb/s1600/IMG_5802.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456784381267273330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLifMxZIcmcubqxWV_9Ik3zMlcbqxWgkWwhT2mylrNuZOKbQv0qPJ8awccudlvc6MkRb5piVs39Qcgnol5hHMYm9lOpnukT_uH_yNSCXXzb3eB7uKAMJ7rfVfc5tLE22A2FT_jEunXmZb/s320/IMG_5802.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6lyiWrkdXZ01YiUlXhZQPeNqe_wzgI4y-ulcIun_tG8TXsD745PQ8_dCxZIeAIetW-Zpmky_kkYXwdeGgxINhl3_A_TPTIwQ3O9CgW88rdcji85VSCv9SYwJBTqYNtsRU2tIpv0K7gzR/s1600/IMG_5811.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456781285981064034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6lyiWrkdXZ01YiUlXhZQPeNqe_wzgI4y-ulcIun_tG8TXsD745PQ8_dCxZIeAIetW-Zpmky_kkYXwdeGgxINhl3_A_TPTIwQ3O9CgW88rdcji85VSCv9SYwJBTqYNtsRU2tIpv0K7gzR/s320/IMG_5811.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEOu2eKKZZpOtvoKwh6WpPEoOyID_q7Nv40MAGNVF1yVQmjPYSPDUfHb-NGgUtdUF5B8wKuu4BDWoF6UYND_EOTfZYztrTWNFRLHdV5fHYy4nOuqmSaLfNSCOALSgoM-sh4QkfKR3d4Ex/s1600/IMG_5447.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456766375350378290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEOu2eKKZZpOtvoKwh6WpPEoOyID_q7Nv40MAGNVF1yVQmjPYSPDUfHb-NGgUtdUF5B8wKuu4BDWoF6UYND_EOTfZYztrTWNFRLHdV5fHYy4nOuqmSaLfNSCOALSgoM-sh4QkfKR3d4Ex/s320/IMG_5447.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Vp9CRDGNTgh-B5fTw1h1f_g9YhHlL2xCI4OElwfPEuJgk1hM5gqPUWwE7Atu-iXcfxgY7s2EJLBgBG_mv32UFdQyUv5qhzSMsOgcDO2-AB4zJUGWiUGZR_vHRCagne0zn7JLbtqJgkTv/s1600/IMG_5715.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456778321139533042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Vp9CRDGNTgh-B5fTw1h1f_g9YhHlL2xCI4OElwfPEuJgk1hM5gqPUWwE7Atu-iXcfxgY7s2EJLBgBG_mv32UFdQyUv5qhzSMsOgcDO2-AB4zJUGWiUGZR_vHRCagne0zn7JLbtqJgkTv/s320/IMG_5715.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEABNETOwpAb2G4N-YxdcfY92KUuxeKHBTWpshFdr4Virc3AnU5s0bjJ44t2G3lb_Vt0RGm9QpyPfA5MhrI8smn75qP0ecUw7wU-64Ikj2ABOJ9KH4lpsnARTgpHCcA2L99mgMDZwdhA4/s1600/IMG_5655.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456785969782449042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEABNETOwpAb2G4N-YxdcfY92KUuxeKHBTWpshFdr4Virc3AnU5s0bjJ44t2G3lb_Vt0RGm9QpyPfA5MhrI8smn75qP0ecUw7wU-64Ikj2ABOJ9KH4lpsnARTgpHCcA2L99mgMDZwdhA4/s320/IMG_5655.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0NRiHD0QEjNds6AbsmMsrekxT2rGQJ6cqUvIXX45Qm8vkHQ7-e4eEFmA2Mu16J9oVJOplLwWukLaYBiz-DeJFm7Tt5I8ZxkaMCfb-F-h3yzlmnDqTlFn36ibSt3okQRZsD1hPamIHzGc/s1600/IMG_5548.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456766387125519522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0NRiHD0QEjNds6AbsmMsrekxT2rGQJ6cqUvIXX45Qm8vkHQ7-e4eEFmA2Mu16J9oVJOplLwWukLaYBiz-DeJFm7Tt5I8ZxkaMCfb-F-h3yzlmnDqTlFn36ibSt3okQRZsD1hPamIHzGc/s320/IMG_5548.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeo1yifI9xSBOGKXQWUJkjjFP7CmGMiHFrGOw3eBcnS8TY99R_PVHi-ztDF_52o578dfYnqigHh7O1cNOrOPXnFjptgf2qtCaJmc6dg-EKfudsbv_xSVODXbcWPYWLkyQgm6aPxMgwurAi/s1600/IMG_5805.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456784358161189266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeo1yifI9xSBOGKXQWUJkjjFP7CmGMiHFrGOw3eBcnS8TY99R_PVHi-ztDF_52o578dfYnqigHh7O1cNOrOPXnFjptgf2qtCaJmc6dg-EKfudsbv_xSVODXbcWPYWLkyQgm6aPxMgwurAi/s320/IMG_5805.JPG" /></a>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-11699513148396436012010-04-01T14:38:00.000-07:002010-04-05T10:58:37.578-07:00Egg Hunt & Poisson d'Avril<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKekgU5LVRyKp8BvNjFSZFJHffLGxTgKtHIrjsftR0-NXqTg3CFyyaQHhL7lgUVy88Eu5kcFy2CnyvKEyeraF81KWvrojzQKA9buejcUhuIRyuBwlroHzK6EvbbhlZq57OWOgoGwW-6Zk_/s1600/IMG_4852.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455290481592840610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKekgU5LVRyKp8BvNjFSZFJHffLGxTgKtHIrjsftR0-NXqTg3CFyyaQHhL7lgUVy88Eu5kcFy2CnyvKEyeraF81KWvrojzQKA9buejcUhuIRyuBwlroHzK6EvbbhlZq57OWOgoGwW-6Zk_/s320/IMG_4852.JPG" /></a>Yesterday my friend Krissy, who is from Nova Scotia, Canada, and I decided to create a Facebook event: “Chasse des oeufs de Pâques!!!” Yup, that’s right, Krissy and I are hosting an Easter egg hunt on Sunday at 3 in one of the local parks and it’s a BYOB (bring your own baguette) event. I’m so excited that we’re doing something for Easter! But that meant we were going to need some eggs.<br /><br />So Krissy and I went on a mission during our hour break between literature and translation. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30dlBuzWH9rolFELo_5sii4SKzcx13Sqxw_HfDShoWjs-Ynk5smRpg3KaRYYOJtdAqQh1EI_aNiPH1oyh7U9BKb9XieTV-h98D9oJOzsp8AQkmhZBsHFKCk-oY2SZCsR5ePN1faSyjEq5/s1600/IMG_5317.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455291395751098498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30dlBuzWH9rolFELo_5sii4SKzcx13Sqxw_HfDShoWjs-Ynk5smRpg3KaRYYOJtdAqQh1EI_aNiPH1oyh7U9BKb9XieTV-h98D9oJOzsp8AQkmhZBsHFKCk-oY2SZCsR5ePN1faSyjEq5/s320/IMG_5317.JPG" /></a>First, we headed to Deux Euro because due to the nature of its title we figured it would be cheap to pick up a bunch of plastic eggs. While they had plenty of items for two euros, they didn’t have any eggs. So we went into Multimum which honestly I didn’t think would have anything because it mostly sells cook and dish ware and I was right, it didn’t have any eggs. Afterwards we went into The Place, a type of thrift store near the Grand Theatre. Nothing.<br /><br />Then we figured ok, Monoprix will definitely have plastic eggs because it’s the largest grocery store around. Negative. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0nEnFWK3XQMtCvcl6YQKAcsjD7mbigi4x2YHSSvd4Td122fQFJoTfCFJhZHwJTArJT76lvV5w00ftEsMFnJ82d9zlMVg5ayrCgqwyVMNs9zUaBEYrkLcHKzxEZL3Qucm9GH2AmRhJHHT/s1600/IMG_4849.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455290487992759426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0nEnFWK3XQMtCvcl6YQKAcsjD7mbigi4x2YHSSvd4Td122fQFJoTfCFJhZHwJTArJT76lvV5w00ftEsMFnJ82d9zlMVg5ayrCgqwyVMNs9zUaBEYrkLcHKzxEZL3Qucm9GH2AmRhJHHT/s320/IMG_4849.JPG" /></a>They had a whole section of Easter chocolates and candy, but no plastic eggs. By this time we were getting desperate so we traversed the crazy French road and went into a confectioner’s to ask if the lady knew where one could buy plastic eggs. We tried explaining what we wanted and she thought we wanted molds in which to make egg shaped items. Luckily, one of the professors from school was in line behind us and addressed us in English. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGJkMZRG4de0yEOpSPwLwiKiR-OEAp7zRrOvlQjosSxhXizcg-qXo2lroiof68SeszMI6kIBKow8RKsUOTv7C8eAHt7_uamzHPV61YAPuiznc0EkFMJBWwccLSMwIkLtm4rkg8pe1V6UL/s1600/IMG_4851.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 264px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455291364525412274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGJkMZRG4de0yEOpSPwLwiKiR-OEAp7zRrOvlQjosSxhXizcg-qXo2lroiof68SeszMI6kIBKow8RKsUOTv7C8eAHt7_uamzHPV61YAPuiznc0EkFMJBWwccLSMwIkLtm4rkg8pe1V6UL/s320/IMG_4851.JPG" /></a>She also wasn’t sure exactly what we were looking for, but once we told her it was for kids and for hiding she knew what we were talking about. She suggested going to Carrefour (another major grocery store), but Carrefour is far enough away we’d need to hop on a bus. She offered to drive us there, but we said we had to get to class (because by that time we really did need to go to class.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYK7tbw-6ehNjGmgh4LSRn4xVd10fuaPz9SSL4aafiE4ll8Y4vdVfr97H7XDRqppnfZA4t5VFnNos0efSOtiQI1SdZwM3llmsSCzxXc__NgNvr3aWwEmT-jUqEgxecUF77Y05p0hn8tV7G/s1600/IMG_4832.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455290498686777314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYK7tbw-6ehNjGmgh4LSRn4xVd10fuaPz9SSL4aafiE4ll8Y4vdVfr97H7XDRqppnfZA4t5VFnNos0efSOtiQI1SdZwM3llmsSCzxXc__NgNvr3aWwEmT-jUqEgxecUF77Y05p0hn8tV7G/s320/IMG_4832.JPG" /></a>I never realized that buying plastic eggs would be so difficult. In the States, they’re a dime a dozen, but not here.<br />On our way back to school we thought of other ways of doing an Easter egg hunt. I suggested buying real eggs, hard boiling them and then decorating them, or just buying a bunch of chocolate eggs (though those would be really hard to find considering they’re the size of a grape). We wandered into another promising store along the way and low and behold, they had plastic eggs! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmzZJj72mP-k8McjeyAldJ9h6080h48dM88TSN_GOsFDTWnMppqfGGcOuZijDGp90WmOlDxM78faIhNpQYnitJlnPsAC604w3J2Pyni6LhVLHUwz5WAcRB6ddjBU-BJDpqzqKLVvg_B6a4/s1600/IMG_4846.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455291372198676690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmzZJj72mP-k8McjeyAldJ9h6080h48dM88TSN_GOsFDTWnMppqfGGcOuZijDGp90WmOlDxM78faIhNpQYnitJlnPsAC604w3J2Pyni6LhVLHUwz5WAcRB6ddjBU-BJDpqzqKLVvg_B6a4/s320/IMG_4846.JPG" /></a>Unfortunately, they weren’t the type we wanted. These ones were decorative plastic eggs that didn’t open up, had a ribbon attached to them and were three euros for six…SO not worth it. Our last stop was Diagonal, one of the smaller supermarkets a couple minutes from school. We went in just to see how much real eggs would cost and discovered you could get ten eggs for one euro. We bought the last three cases and then raced off to class with our bag of eggs. We were a little bit late, but I figured if we just yelled “Poisson d’Avril” after entering we’d be ok.<br /><br />“Poisson d’Avril” is the French April Fool’s day, except literally translated it means “Fish of April.” According to French Wikipedia it originated in 1564 when France was reforming its calendar. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2_OaszKCmtQX7HRZJ_72yHSeWXhrdeynf_0HvymYo8VPqrlfh5ZQ-uUqdjJVlUlgLGIB01cmHQXNWcrMfmMlI6PKkR-ibYSBeYR2Zpe8nRY7VbNmmpdMnWuJPiTMik-HdWeYkl2v6z2r/s1600/IMG_4848.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 257px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 195px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455290469726287666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2_OaszKCmtQX7HRZJ_72yHSeWXhrdeynf_0HvymYo8VPqrlfh5ZQ-uUqdjJVlUlgLGIB01cmHQXNWcrMfmMlI6PKkR-ibYSBeYR2Zpe8nRY7VbNmmpdMnWuJPiTMik-HdWeYkl2v6z2r/s320/IMG_4848.JPG" /></a>The government moved the start of the year from March 31st to January 1 and thus, people who wanted to keep the old calendar would have pranks played on them and paper fish pinned to their backs. (Though apparently there are problems with this theory that I’m not going to go into detail about.) Anyway pranks are supposed to last all day and you’re supposed to attach a paper fish to somebody’s back and yell “Poisson d’Avril.” Oh and the chocolate shops make tons and tons of chocolate fish (along with bunny rabbits, chickens and eggs).<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3F6GpCIWBWO4dn4nIyZGnFuRNASC9aHy6Nhdjdh0kd6ne9zy6C3TovHad4ur1X_V_o0umScYy_o-8PJitnUCboHtDSJqfxijzTcgh4EnsZpgB9MtKEfbIIHwhCa44Om_B01xDL3H3B39/s1600/IMG_5324.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455291380898777842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3F6GpCIWBWO4dn4nIyZGnFuRNASC9aHy6Nhdjdh0kd6ne9zy6C3TovHad4ur1X_V_o0umScYy_o-8PJitnUCboHtDSJqfxijzTcgh4EnsZpgB9MtKEfbIIHwhCa44Om_B01xDL3H3B39/s320/IMG_5324.JPG" /></a>After getting out of class at seven, I raced home for dinner, which also very conveniently starts at seven. When I got to the Foyer I said, “Bon soir” to Madam like I always do and then said, “Nous mangeons le poisson d’avril ce soir, n’est pas?” (Good evening. We are eating the fish of April this evening, isn’t that so?) Madam got a huge kick out of that because of course we weren’t actually eating fish tonight (although surprise, surprise there were actually bits of fish mixed in with the potato salad. It didn’t taste bad, it was just funny.)<br /><br />Krissy and I still needed some more eggs so we went back to Monoprix at nine. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp6-cMDb0FZfCVE8qH7Wp16MSIDg2kdxWQbpicnV5zhxQADn3c1EKeGmUi10ynuMfe3ulalRyOkApXhCWgTd9HBYPoJJ6DCXrdaZybyPu9FWTmc2gZ32Fuw-o-4VF4L29Fl864CxJ27mu-/s1600/IMG_4844.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 252px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455290495292495186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp6-cMDb0FZfCVE8qH7Wp16MSIDg2kdxWQbpicnV5zhxQADn3c1EKeGmUi10ynuMfe3ulalRyOkApXhCWgTd9HBYPoJJ6DCXrdaZybyPu9FWTmc2gZ32Fuw-o-4VF4L29Fl864CxJ27mu-/s320/IMG_4844.JPG" /></a>As we were leaving, Krissy tried to grab a grocery bag for the eggs, but the cashier girl told her that she couldn’t have any bags. Krissy looked totally dumbfounded, and you could almost see the words “Why won’t she let me have a plastic bag?” printed on her face. She was just about to ask why, but then the girl said, “Poisson d’Avril!” I just about died of laughter. It was the only successful prank that I witnessed all day, but it was awesome.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgapb-GfyJqyVZ6ON6LAmr_ElxdgmsUFX-Tl1bgkNmpvNvD6BaXS1Zi0rQ0AG2DFqkM_PU0Nr8FWvxlKVi-8EMqiwL8Yx06WeA0nB4DfOgXeQs3wSsOGSlx51cd92EHLq7vuhul5WLAqA4y/s1600/red+coat+with+friends.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455291392103955890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgapb-GfyJqyVZ6ON6LAmr_ElxdgmsUFX-Tl1bgkNmpvNvD6BaXS1Zi0rQ0AG2DFqkM_PU0Nr8FWvxlKVi-8EMqiwL8Yx06WeA0nB4DfOgXeQs3wSsOGSlx51cd92EHLq7vuhul5WLAqA4y/s320/red+coat+with+friends.jpg" /></a>Happy April Fool’s! Or Le Poisson d’Avril, if you’re in France.<br /><br />Heidi<br /><br />P.S. Also just so you know: "poisson" is fish, "boisson" is a drink and "poison" is poison. Be careful not to ask for the latter at a restaurant.<br />Also, look! Spring is here!wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-45737271954582864032010-03-27T15:14:00.000-07:002010-03-29T03:30:00.974-07:00Operation Overlord<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4Xd4LonZNvjimGfsll1XQvTa0lQjOMwbcZHEiJe6N-h1Jgkhu6bjIsjAEhUsPSUobutQMUke8_FkC0hythXveSI-fmX8UzE7Mdg47qlTxKi9DM-ICF_1UM7Ic1wEQKeykJW_qNUi2uGt/s1600/IMG_5208.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453813344268256258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4Xd4LonZNvjimGfsll1XQvTa0lQjOMwbcZHEiJe6N-h1Jgkhu6bjIsjAEhUsPSUobutQMUke8_FkC0hythXveSI-fmX8UzE7Mdg47qlTxKi9DM-ICF_1UM7Ic1wEQKeykJW_qNUi2uGt/s320/IMG_5208.JPG" /></a>June 6,<br /><br />1944.<br /><br />D Day.<br /><br />Le jour J.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2stnzSfT9gW09fOF8ideYFBfmIwEsDT4KljPQmyoh-js41luKDpqJSg0ap6TzOAH0KfJtPLoOfUSdHpNcKJwm462vsbFVV7ldlrrEHWk5E8Z3emcBZmO8S3V3w72hM_xK5jq-MQ5ffZ1y/s1600/IMG_5183.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453830434272324754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2stnzSfT9gW09fOF8ideYFBfmIwEsDT4KljPQmyoh-js41luKDpqJSg0ap6TzOAH0KfJtPLoOfUSdHpNcKJwm462vsbFVV7ldlrrEHWk5E8Z3emcBZmO8S3V3w72hM_xK5jq-MQ5ffZ1y/s320/IMG_5183.JPG" /></a>The first day of the Invasion of Normandy and the first implementation of Operation Overlord. Number of Allied soldiers who landed on the beaches of Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno and Sword: 132,000. Number of Allied losses: 10,500. One-tenth of the invading soldiers died on a single day.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaVllH8Q2eua8y_iojoCIJfRqyZFDf_z8NFrTGKuih5dVGMX3Ix-KIi64vH-VdgEToV1SW-PyBquhJOanPuphp2l9cnp2uWPbxzhyphenhyphen308ZKfpL0k4A3Lnm-t30I7dbG154ORvD1SE0BOJY/s1600/IMG_5283.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 251px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 174px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453823551591720386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaVllH8Q2eua8y_iojoCIJfRqyZFDf_z8NFrTGKuih5dVGMX3Ix-KIi64vH-VdgEToV1SW-PyBquhJOanPuphp2l9cnp2uWPbxzhyphenhyphen308ZKfpL0k4A3Lnm-t30I7dbG154ORvD1SE0BOJY/s320/IMG_5283.JPG" /></a>As you can tell, this last excursion was more than a little depressing. Although I had a great time and the beaches were beautiful and it was cool being in Normandy, it was really eye opening and just plain heartbreaking.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaELkATVdtlWh-DFF1XAiQWB5bPntbuEcJFQ2YUSYqM1w3t1Zcr7Q_2utC-DujKNianS3LqVULxCV5lt6ffkmrDceQ977kxsMB8ZbRlx8T9759Q3nDwiNvXMj2jhYrk9Wy8uEnVxYz1EpR/s1600/IMG_5069.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453816535753261346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaELkATVdtlWh-DFF1XAiQWB5bPntbuEcJFQ2YUSYqM1w3t1Zcr7Q_2utC-DujKNianS3LqVULxCV5lt6ffkmrDceQ977kxsMB8ZbRlx8T9759Q3nDwiNvXMj2jhYrk9Wy8uEnVxYz1EpR/s320/IMG_5069.JPG" /></a>We began our trip at Caen, the site of a very important battle during the Normandy invasion. Starting the trip at the Caen memorial and museum was smart because it refreshed everyone’s knowledge of events before, during and after World War II and prepared us well for the beaches and cemeteries. Once inside, we followed a circular timeline around this enormous ball which had pictures, posters and blurbs of the end of World War I, the Roaring Twenties, the rise of totalitarianism, the Great Depression, the rise of the Nazis and finally, the outbreak of World War II.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6_bfv1FK5m_mipJ5BX2lwcDCZwx45FiwqdLtjFmd7Htlrsg71Jlu1fY3SKqUdsnJyvR9gnHojYAAwmG3brUrG3jv_YoM6yeXQGeIsUmKWTo52cN85gHFESwVAD5-jVQeGGOJ4bboDjWM/s1600/IMG_5115.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453813360334556578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6_bfv1FK5m_mipJ5BX2lwcDCZwx45FiwqdLtjFmd7Htlrsg71Jlu1fY3SKqUdsnJyvR9gnHojYAAwmG3brUrG3jv_YoM6yeXQGeIsUmKWTo52cN85gHFESwVAD5-jVQeGGOJ4bboDjWM/s320/IMG_5115.JPG" /></a>Once downstairs, German, Soviet, and French propaganda littered the walls. There were battle plans, gas masks, clothing items and newspaper headlines. I watched a documentary about the heroics of the RAF (Royal Air Force) during <em>The Battle of Britain</em> and then all of us watched a short film called <em>The Battle of Normandy</em>. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgCAdeRjl7WcdLbMwxsgkjmb-IV-voNgv4IsgoGVj5GareoUiFY-xpepiH-trBaC1yktlO-VjemkD4GxJniVgrINHLMSygvCWhku6GjpObbre4bVjNaKrm4HYKSFVisW2YkNTGTcPKfw-W/s1600/IMG_5116.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453816542215078162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgCAdeRjl7WcdLbMwxsgkjmb-IV-voNgv4IsgoGVj5GareoUiFY-xpepiH-trBaC1yktlO-VjemkD4GxJniVgrINHLMSygvCWhku6GjpObbre4bVjNaKrm4HYKSFVisW2YkNTGTcPKfw-W/s320/IMG_5116.JPG" /></a>Both films were in black and white, but the latter was cool because it divided the screen in half. On the right half were the Allied forces and on the left, the Germans. When D-Day actually started the two halves became one. After watching footage from D-Day, computer animation was used to show the different battles that took place after D-Day. It was interspersed with short clips of fighting and before and after photos of French villages.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZzYIblg5GNjFufFyY31zLyw5QwHUrDW8SQFihLc14mRhA103eF9tde_ScNZwBGbDgvUw2DegzH49Xh1RDpH0H-5cWjVQja3-paIJlWR6SmzIP9Au-UE5_pqg03hZgjNYz8XpbBTXdQBI/s1600/IMG_5126.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453813372503350882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZzYIblg5GNjFufFyY31zLyw5QwHUrDW8SQFihLc14mRhA103eF9tde_ScNZwBGbDgvUw2DegzH49Xh1RDpH0H-5cWjVQja3-paIJlWR6SmzIP9Au-UE5_pqg03hZgjNYz8XpbBTXdQBI/s320/IMG_5126.JPG" /></a>After that I toured the gift shop, found a memorial garden dedicated to the Americans (there was a Canadian garden too which I didn’t get to see) and located a Nobel Peace Prize gallery which lists all the winners in every category. Next was the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMfrXGzUMfcAAPCI5pacvetBEm5h3Q1m7A1IekILWc-IBJ8q68XnJjfz2dhfu48FBa0hnNCyuz2DiRdJ3VdirPc-kWDNf3woGmr1YN2p5Ato3YXD23BNdw4hsraL0wI4TD5vOY9uLjPcqm/s1600/IMG_5171.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 247px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 183px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453816548095084834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMfrXGzUMfcAAPCI5pacvetBEm5h3Q1m7A1IekILWc-IBJ8q68XnJjfz2dhfu48FBa0hnNCyuz2DiRdJ3VdirPc-kWDNf3woGmr1YN2p5Ato3YXD23BNdw4hsraL0wI4TD5vOY9uLjPcqm/s320/IMG_5171.JPG" /></a>The American Cemetery is located alongside Omaha beach and is operated by the American government, free from French taxes in gratitude for the United States’ support during the war. Omaha and Utah were where the American troops invaded while Gold and Sword were British and Juno was Canadian.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmHeoF0qLHX4RS3TrBYaXB5REDN3FJOzK3DVHQJ9xMCYVV-LA7HK5M8zJX1Z5rYKt267KkPoaSMAneeEAF8Whq0vFFxoTa79ZLxe2GJA3LzdLyEO_02ulwJP7GAgqewcvwY7sQGOG0xpn/s1600/IMG_5118.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453819166953981874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmHeoF0qLHX4RS3TrBYaXB5REDN3FJOzK3DVHQJ9xMCYVV-LA7HK5M8zJX1Z5rYKt267KkPoaSMAneeEAF8Whq0vFFxoTa79ZLxe2GJA3LzdLyEO_02ulwJP7GAgqewcvwY7sQGOG0xpn/s320/IMG_5118.JPG" /></a>To prepare myself, I watched the beginning of <em>Saving Private Ryan</em> the night before because the opening scene features this same cemetery. I will never forget the first time I saw <em>Saving Private Ryan</em>. I was in 10th grade American history and I was so horrified by the staggering number of crosses, I cried. I’d been to Arlington National Cemetery when I was in 5th grade, but when you’re that young it’s hard to appreciate the gravity and magnitude of the situation. <span style="font-size:85%;">(Opening scene from SPR: </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZJANhWizUY"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZJANhWizUY</span></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:85%;">)</span> </span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwqlidR0_5UogxMIQoHAMHXjz9hHZ8CorYfMFxBeHHTEnYFJqMJMege1R6-xuz4qcUoBgpEW6UKI6m-jBaK8Bth_c3ZFwcHlMLAkuxHyKwEZUnvJ0P1NaG7SUo5u2yN_rxv0OlxHlkwff/s1600/IMG_5188.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453816558928016034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwqlidR0_5UogxMIQoHAMHXjz9hHZ8CorYfMFxBeHHTEnYFJqMJMege1R6-xuz4qcUoBgpEW6UKI6m-jBaK8Bth_c3ZFwcHlMLAkuxHyKwEZUnvJ0P1NaG7SUo5u2yN_rxv0OlxHlkwff/s320/IMG_5188.JPG" /></a>While wandering among the crosses I noticed that most of them had the date June 6, 1944. It probably shouldn’t have been surprising, considering it was the first day of battle, but it was still extremely sobering. On the back of each cross was a number (which I assume was the man’s military service number) and on the front was their name, rank (most were privates), military unit, state and date of death. Jewish soldiers had the Star of David rather than a cross.<br />I decided to try to find a soldier who died on my birthday (July 25) and it took less than thirty seconds.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsTvVU7ypQtBLalP8j_L57oEVLwfOzBZGiHOpYvJH4_661sVVfQFo1mIQ8X_re9_SFte3GpP_Yyf-wDW9rwbIe5Miw9ph_bI-zL_ZVeb71X_vUl0RpvjHI9AbO0VgXiMPRNIxV_fxFD9e/s1600/IMG_5195.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 175px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453819173954896834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsTvVU7ypQtBLalP8j_L57oEVLwfOzBZGiHOpYvJH4_661sVVfQFo1mIQ8X_re9_SFte3GpP_Yyf-wDW9rwbIe5Miw9ph_bI-zL_ZVeb71X_vUl0RpvjHI9AbO0VgXiMPRNIxV_fxFD9e/s320/IMG_5195.JPG" /></a> I found that truly depressing. I also found the name “Emil” on several of the crosses and I kept thinking that could have been Grandpa. (Grandpa’s name is Emil and he fought with the Marines in the Pacific.) Exactly 9, 387 men are buried here with 307 unknown. On the “Walls of the Missing” are inscribed another 1, 557 names. Though very sad, it really is a beautiful tribute to the heroic men who died on the beaches of Normandy.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO85fqVqAU4eqpnx0QFCmMtpkbIptVca4nmvFUK75hUNOcVsg04fb1DvZwJq_v6liVGvSc6aR1Y8LLeiT3vSaX1D19dzVzM4ROH_GePsIa50DmIJq5r_PrwkpOMy1Gw0QXAOWAUkSMFI6P/s1600/IMG_5225.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 243px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 177px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453816569119956402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO85fqVqAU4eqpnx0QFCmMtpkbIptVca4nmvFUK75hUNOcVsg04fb1DvZwJq_v6liVGvSc6aR1Y8LLeiT3vSaX1D19dzVzM4ROH_GePsIa50DmIJq5r_PrwkpOMy1Gw0QXAOWAUkSMFI6P/s320/IMG_5225.JPG" /></a>Afterwards we went down to Omaha beach. There were these really amazing sculptures in the sand and this other monument that kinda looked like a ramp from a skate park. (Snapped a shot of Adam, who very patriotically, wore his red, white and blue Washington Capitals jersey.) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrUhFeBdIUpc3O02tyiw5YnwkF4MNausSD-01OORptWOFOSwx3weCSulhni_quzeB5ivOBhraLM6fKRPt9MWRXQkkWm3KFL6z8g-R8siSG7ZcYC4HI7WqtQ5H-AfKz0du7IvkHZJ-8v1B1/s1600/IMG_5215.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 251px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 177px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453819186623434498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrUhFeBdIUpc3O02tyiw5YnwkF4MNausSD-01OORptWOFOSwx3weCSulhni_quzeB5ivOBhraLM6fKRPt9MWRXQkkWm3KFL6z8g-R8siSG7ZcYC4HI7WqtQ5H-AfKz0du7IvkHZJ-8v1B1/s320/IMG_5215.JPG" /></a>We only had 15 minutes at the beach so I didn’t race down to the water with the others. Instead, I sat on the steps just thinking about what had happened on these sands sixty six years earlier. The beach was beautiful, but I don’t think I’d ever be able to swim around or play games at this beach knowing that so many men died on its shores.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-mziljzLDlKJ5Hn4uvi8tZ9QlHu-u2IU7wy3z8vpjIC4Bw9s0KrwsKlN9J0h25z8aMP_3H73sXBqpY2B3nst0QA1Te_r3X_UCcMK8W6YqXQfxMDgSAYcgxAOpnTsNEOeA_cXiP8kU01G/s1600/IMG_5270.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 252px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453822639229921986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-mziljzLDlKJ5Hn4uvi8tZ9QlHu-u2IU7wy3z8vpjIC4Bw9s0KrwsKlN9J0h25z8aMP_3H73sXBqpY2B3nst0QA1Te_r3X_UCcMK8W6YqXQfxMDgSAYcgxAOpnTsNEOeA_cXiP8kU01G/s320/IMG_5270.JPG" /></a>Next we went to the Point du Hoc which is in between Utah and Omaha beach and<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuxQZyr_NWjnLlMHF5mwJ-yvqwt25COqIszlyCgDnoJ_WVaHOzWjnanyTrbSXGCsV-okdmQm2MLl8ly7KLGq8HhBPtD_WF3gSMb4-vkSBbHjp8KkZf91Q6bbB7DmaKnCXM-GasKSgKMQRZ/s1600/IMG_5270.JPG"></a> I was totally unprepared for what I saw. The whole field was a mass of enormous potholes which was the work of aerial bombardment. Someone joked that it was the worst golf course they’d ever seen. Funny—until you realize that a division of Texas Rangers actually used these craters as shelter from gunfire and snipers while working their way across the point. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuq2AJay86zJYu9PijBd5dPMbHlVSvCbYAaDe5sejDiYiIiskgGM8CNd_1rnQ8cV3NtahkkeJtJGOnDZG0-q_j2-ZxIjjllXv9c4ttaHCmgRDClW8iaEe9GhAclurRdr_nsgltkBJz4mN/s1600/IMG_5260.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 253px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 169px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453819182351959922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuq2AJay86zJYu9PijBd5dPMbHlVSvCbYAaDe5sejDiYiIiskgGM8CNd_1rnQ8cV3NtahkkeJtJGOnDZG0-q_j2-ZxIjjllXv9c4ttaHCmgRDClW8iaEe9GhAclurRdr_nsgltkBJz4mN/s320/IMG_5260.JPG" /></a>These Texas Rangers had been ordered on a near-suicidal mission to scale the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc in order to destroy the guns at this location. It was vital that the guns be destroyed since they could fire at either Utah or Omaha beach. However, the Rangers weren’t told that the artillery had been removed to an unknown location a couple days earlier so when they reached the top they were being picked off by snipers and the guns weren’t to be found. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggdj9tDM6hjt-EjjlpZmuK77SW_P-QIIA5whdGIwm9ToVJf4JUqdhiKo6RjN62PwmXBnoZD1TDFF2AZCWl3s5OqDrmSAdy7sGaeXYK22u_zgqzekdgM1rk9ZpzyTYwh08XBy3L4vNdO-nM/s1600/IMG_5255.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 257px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 191px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453822645884109906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggdj9tDM6hjt-EjjlpZmuK77SW_P-QIIA5whdGIwm9ToVJf4JUqdhiKo6RjN62PwmXBnoZD1TDFF2AZCWl3s5OqDrmSAdy7sGaeXYK22u_zgqzekdgM1rk9ZpzyTYwh08XBy3L4vNdO-nM/s320/IMG_5255.JPG" /></a>Eventually, two soldiers found the well-camouflaged guns about a kilometer away and destroyed them.<br /><br />Originally the plan was to send in reinforcements after the Rangers reached the top, but as they were 40 minutes off schedule and had lost the element of surprise, it was thought the mission had failed. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7_uCB23qy5tpb4yR7ncd58NpC5QTU9WgvAcn0Kdm5zgNJVg1i1C0Kc8Z9x-ZPnS169-UNLDsnQj6qYC__Q3lLeWbGxcrv6aEZqvjQP4SkEJBC8MnL5D-Ci2Vq0vldHKsO3NQZN3QoUw0/s1600/IMG_5265.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 172px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453819194178197170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7_uCB23qy5tpb4yR7ncd58NpC5QTU9WgvAcn0Kdm5zgNJVg1i1C0Kc8Z9x-ZPnS169-UNLDsnQj6qYC__Q3lLeWbGxcrv6aEZqvjQP4SkEJBC8MnL5D-Ci2Vq0vldHKsO3NQZN3QoUw0/s320/IMG_5265.JPG" /></a>Thus, the reinforcements were diverted to Omaha beach (which in the end really helped out the Americans at Omaha) and couldn’t be sent for until two days later. By that time there were only 90 men left out the 225 who were part of the mission. Standing on the cliff and looking down to the ocean, I can’t believe they actually succeeded. It looks totally impossible.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVH39uFYAA6342lvGd_Gyj-FVpt7ReDW7_r7jF_L9xD2g2QGxSeWon3sn09Bo-LGvJy5Tyd1773ZV2CCalLzLJSs2PmgepbhyphenhyphenqBjZgOQ10Y3DjC5RUmEgJ3eLMRDceP6r6KxXe_5SKeTm/s1600/IMG_5275.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453823558858027890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVH39uFYAA6342lvGd_Gyj-FVpt7ReDW7_r7jF_L9xD2g2QGxSeWon3sn09Bo-LGvJy5Tyd1773ZV2CCalLzLJSs2PmgepbhyphenhyphenqBjZgOQ10Y3DjC5RUmEgJ3eLMRDceP6r6KxXe_5SKeTm/s320/IMG_5275.JPG" /></a>I went into one of the bunkers and couldn’t see anything; it was pitch black and it reeked (of God knows what) in there. It made me feel a little bit sorry for the Germans. Anyone with claustrophobia would have gone crazy in there. I also squeezed into one of the foxholes on the cliff. Really this place would have been perfect for “Capture the Flag,” but again I don’t think that would be very respectful.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLsTUGJ8zGXil1TIEhO-BtpdkKQsRmHF0To9nJsSOcfA9aEM3BngpUKkHa4o0mcUYTRP5SdZVMu6g8KzWTyc8Lqmjb5k6JKz6CpWdLxcYM2B8Jr0lujHKp7hzWLUhTnegghu9Zn1RGfzsm/s1600/IMG_5295.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453822628993116306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLsTUGJ8zGXil1TIEhO-BtpdkKQsRmHF0To9nJsSOcfA9aEM3BngpUKkHa4o0mcUYTRP5SdZVMu6g8KzWTyc8Lqmjb5k6JKz6CpWdLxcYM2B8Jr0lujHKp7hzWLUhTnegghu9Zn1RGfzsm/s320/IMG_5295.JPG" /></a>The last place we visited was the La Cambe German war cemetery. It felt more like a cemetery than the American and twice as many men were buried there (21,222 with 207 unknown burials). We also passed a Polish cemetery (which I mention because I’m half Polish) and lots of cows, sheep and horses. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge-CB1DrhCqMkNc5NnJEhUmN7oVK9_ah-WQE98l1gQiERAef13QH1I3zg-qOsxlZ0viT7UFy5Mag4XJQv26HaLo_IZGrdJVxejBc9jSuqlIv14jQmaQoJt8XzOfipPyoIQr7FASlzR42UM/s1600/IMG_5302.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEBqX3Do8qBANF3lPPAUpEQK-sJg3Iy9UKlmCk2Q22PwWpzoSyHdZi1yZxcpd72wCbp86mAMMizXZ2PoJVBrAT3wWqsinw1AvnzNO2_SqWwB8uvZrEihH9Pkuti9DIwvyUt_8YDpvEjMah/s1600/IMG_5289.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 241px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454000657937892098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEBqX3Do8qBANF3lPPAUpEQK-sJg3Iy9UKlmCk2Q22PwWpzoSyHdZi1yZxcpd72wCbp86mAMMizXZ2PoJVBrAT3wWqsinw1AvnzNO2_SqWwB8uvZrEihH9Pkuti9DIwvyUt_8YDpvEjMah/s320/IMG_5289.JPG" /></a>I should also probably mention that the Normandy region is famous for its Camembert cheese, cidre, Calvados (a highly alcoholic apple brandy), oysters, andouille sausage, crème fraiche, and of course, the Bayeux tapestry.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO52iHv5eKamV8854PV41EjcJqyoaizxOYcknYNmsGxiWqaZJhGxi-HQo8F3yY3cvHfcGBN0r2Uo7hKcYAqAgyeilukax7RDJAkY0Oardu7aogbsldU9PslxXkDLAqRGrhwoYhhosgB-Tb/s1600/me+in+bunker.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453840055041765890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO52iHv5eKamV8854PV41EjcJqyoaizxOYcknYNmsGxiWqaZJhGxi-HQo8F3yY3cvHfcGBN0r2Uo7hKcYAqAgyeilukax7RDJAkY0Oardu7aogbsldU9PslxXkDLAqRGrhwoYhhosgB-Tb/s320/me+in+bunker.jpg" /></a>Here's hoping this post reminds you of all you have to be thankful for,<br /><br />Heidi<br /><br />The spiky things are called Czech hedgehogs, and the gas mask definitely reminds me of Greedo from <em>Star Wars</em> (the alien who tries to shoot Han Solo in the cantina)<em>. </em>The chapel, mosiac, and engraving are all from the American cemetery.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dWEjgevbH6zSrW9Kb_SYLukzWzGKaIKWLk1DYNasdE0OUf2YWqTZdU77FQKZ3xzKPEkm1wVUQLrbxpUb2gAYsbx63EUnD8t3eM9u5jWOvw-4Js5sgi3PTb6tTGmouFVLdnknR7CcZyTf/s1600/IMG_5106.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453824454110250674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-dWEjgevbH6zSrW9Kb_SYLukzWzGKaIKWLk1DYNasdE0OUf2YWqTZdU77FQKZ3xzKPEkm1wVUQLrbxpUb2gAYsbx63EUnD8t3eM9u5jWOvw-4Js5sgi3PTb6tTGmouFVLdnknR7CcZyTf/s320/IMG_5106.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgzB_P72Xnn_gxO7atYzpDRvL96Rp0YJknOd44mHtbUKO_DYVzjNBJX-2I8lPzbRo4vfXz1iP_0t6R24J73uS65DWhl3yWJdboGAa8ogzJ9J3-R7Ks8B5RUHIeVbX17kRU_2mK2kDcWkd/s1600/IMG_5095.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453825052957875282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgzB_P72Xnn_gxO7atYzpDRvL96Rp0YJknOd44mHtbUKO_DYVzjNBJX-2I8lPzbRo4vfXz1iP_0t6R24J73uS65DWhl3yWJdboGAa8ogzJ9J3-R7Ks8B5RUHIeVbX17kRU_2mK2kDcWkd/s320/IMG_5095.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW9RYpYJRczJVkHYQlNjWABk6bbHk9dyKBLQapH6r_yKzQ_OQbp7cLjncgOIreJ69dd_HQ5Iwotr9CRsDkGAIoKPBwo1y-Vg-c-8TAzSXVb1pV84QPxNCp9p3kvPEuwPBoLRNYN9dfC5iI/s1600/IMG_5088.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453825026446070946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW9RYpYJRczJVkHYQlNjWABk6bbHk9dyKBLQapH6r_yKzQ_OQbp7cLjncgOIreJ69dd_HQ5Iwotr9CRsDkGAIoKPBwo1y-Vg-c-8TAzSXVb1pV84QPxNCp9p3kvPEuwPBoLRNYN9dfC5iI/s320/IMG_5088.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvaMhx0z_z6jg71GqxLw102mf3gVCRQwatl-CXwkbS8LVNjTgjzL7VdMVusJXg9Uq-m_e1NwF-U5EyIgpF5ka7pnzjssqWdAtFmrTNz4oQoJMDcAE364UqXmsIiBSYiTkAaguqN9yvQ6vq/s1600/IMG_5103.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453824424915662930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvaMhx0z_z6jg71GqxLw102mf3gVCRQwatl-CXwkbS8LVNjTgjzL7VdMVusJXg9Uq-m_e1NwF-U5EyIgpF5ka7pnzjssqWdAtFmrTNz4oQoJMDcAE364UqXmsIiBSYiTkAaguqN9yvQ6vq/s320/IMG_5103.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnbviwv4uMjXkTSQbku04g3fDnySv_WqC4LAus2DNeIFr0by1QtnON5ejXNbjg3ePFNU2rcoZ35TEr1G5tHtLUieH_Hi1Md1n1CbVTxzPxG2v0pyVLtyHk_0j9nS1NweXduHkp49EmBd4/s1600/IMG_5093.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453825023974359042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLnbviwv4uMjXkTSQbku04g3fDnySv_WqC4LAus2DNeIFr0by1QtnON5ejXNbjg3ePFNU2rcoZ35TEr1G5tHtLUieH_Hi1Md1n1CbVTxzPxG2v0pyVLtyHk_0j9nS1NweXduHkp49EmBd4/s320/IMG_5093.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgouqwMLNuqG5N4PKvdYe5c9xa9X-hI1NYZ94h1SrqdyquksywbVNFoQc7kLG5uG_VSqFM-5YO8Ab7ipLQragO31nmZdHM4AJR2qWXI9RimGfNaSDllVR2Fr6ydYl4jMd2-fLtgwODtdiIt/s1600/IMG_5096.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453825036856616914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgouqwMLNuqG5N4PKvdYe5c9xa9X-hI1NYZ94h1SrqdyquksywbVNFoQc7kLG5uG_VSqFM-5YO8Ab7ipLQragO31nmZdHM4AJR2qWXI9RimGfNaSDllVR2Fr6ydYl4jMd2-fLtgwODtdiIt/s320/IMG_5096.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy-n6XyAhHejGoE-qMs3JbCnF4_uOfxuAs6UnYKambrZRtdvkVgX9T_vdVC3Yj2U7nRjNCNKMYKvi1uuOUBW9V6DtCsHfKo1Tk6qoZcWNa3q-WxvN8DPs7a56in8xPzzPXCSQSE_c4iIE_/s1600/IMG_5197.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453823571088570610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy-n6XyAhHejGoE-qMs3JbCnF4_uOfxuAs6UnYKambrZRtdvkVgX9T_vdVC3Yj2U7nRjNCNKMYKvi1uuOUBW9V6DtCsHfKo1Tk6qoZcWNa3q-WxvN8DPs7a56in8xPzzPXCSQSE_c4iIE_/s320/IMG_5197.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuoomCE2u1jVaRMOWYT91VFvgscuO2ni7AmhPX915xngGw0RNw_NhuHvmUNW-Lq3WYQtfvrCbXeDIb4mt7jIvj1BZD47Loan_N7FVOKt7FoB2K8bEOO5aV_A1ptu8MTJoC71XPGROSM1jS/s1600/IMG_5200.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453824438521321138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuoomCE2u1jVaRMOWYT91VFvgscuO2ni7AmhPX915xngGw0RNw_NhuHvmUNW-Lq3WYQtfvrCbXeDIb4mt7jIvj1BZD47Loan_N7FVOKt7FoB2K8bEOO5aV_A1ptu8MTJoC71XPGROSM1jS/s320/IMG_5200.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmaEzYpmxwf2b3LDikY5xvid25rVWDKiy11anpFbozYAZDAXQVLWnVjKxUyfhzjux26LhBel7N_WcOI6RgUqhfmDi32SCa0HzACWB7KZuPy59ibcnXkRGyHcMh6YDJu0rvrDhrrwmA_xh/s1600/IMG_5204.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453824430029055586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmaEzYpmxwf2b3LDikY5xvid25rVWDKiy11anpFbozYAZDAXQVLWnVjKxUyfhzjux26LhBel7N_WcOI6RgUqhfmDi32SCa0HzACWB7KZuPy59ibcnXkRGyHcMh6YDJu0rvrDhrrwmA_xh/s320/IMG_5204.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfI82keld8sq9mSwkjEml3eWFQmnSHEEVMeEe5ypmZTHzjWL6eOt1h7-M033Fygjf39XFkqGndcFqiLE7fjbB5rn3_rxSmMcvOlbMLeSfKAvgq0uIEor0n7TAV2-wmAQwydZAexeA79F-/s1600/IMG_5291.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453823536716340226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfI82keld8sq9mSwkjEml3eWFQmnSHEEVMeEe5ypmZTHzjWL6eOt1h7-M033Fygjf39XFkqGndcFqiLE7fjbB5rn3_rxSmMcvOlbMLeSfKAvgq0uIEor0n7TAV2-wmAQwydZAexeA79F-/s320/IMG_5291.JPG" /></a></div>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-48585199271915915882010-03-23T11:47:00.000-07:002010-03-23T14:10:30.684-07:00Peanut Butter Jelly Time<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKMZwJMSDOhAIbIaFyiV71D-upbWQDZRJoutD41Es9kTlVjv6tywxe4YWwH0_sVPckhd_1dTAZ0fh4evlQlDe8f05xb9gbuy4a9iAssKd-a5q42LKuL_lxCitQcPCf8KiUF3RKixXQrlR/s1600-h/IMG_4988.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451929165997176898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKMZwJMSDOhAIbIaFyiV71D-upbWQDZRJoutD41Es9kTlVjv6tywxe4YWwH0_sVPckhd_1dTAZ0fh4evlQlDe8f05xb9gbuy4a9iAssKd-a5q42LKuL_lxCitQcPCf8KiUF3RKixXQrlR/s320/IMG_4988.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Today was the Journée Internationale and it was a blast! Our group of Americans had been meeting on Thursdays during lunch for several weeks planning for this day and it was a huge success. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJzIiQJU60VMtp14T_ywAoo4RDbPnJiC40HADo8CN3ruTu4UhCx1OH7pRf2NWIFBNtBOD7-oSUIsCxfRoYpXeMXNtNkQJ1HTkXJ7M6Xj20VJuwNUhb195MWUo1KM-uSZYNKVzCxzHO5i-/s1600-h/IMG_4985.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451937342730340690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJzIiQJU60VMtp14T_ywAoo4RDbPnJiC40HADo8CN3ruTu4UhCx1OH7pRf2NWIFBNtBOD7-oSUIsCxfRoYpXeMXNtNkQJ1HTkXJ7M6Xj20VJuwNUhb195MWUo1KM-uSZYNKVzCxzHO5i-/s320/IMG_4985.JPG" /></a>No countries were allowed to use flags (apparently the Chinese students get very offended when the Taiwanese students try to bring out their flag), but we could decorate with red, white and blue; in fact, we borrowed France's decorations. We had a slideshow going with pictures of the entire US and music playing from a stereo, also borrowed from the French.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4B00erTMvv3bH9uOFWyp02Qn0W3d5eyM-aQi94nlfWknOLJb2UpWK_9xThRE7UZSHhj9qWpnlvb80M3aT2J1QTpMtzUz3GIpTQue4F59VEJRwom6Sk5Ujwk98DvLIT5EnSAjN6QdoF5bI/s1600-h/IMG_4987.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimK_zyHW2mnR8rYZpXUPSGtHSETD7UNjS0KzpCqbqs6X-4OCejcLCmD-PLfWqpNq7jLndMX7VnHs2Sdc58oNxvIYYTiq5q81ocTqHoByclxk96ds1SLNL7lOo-DXhgUo1Oxfxyu7KBCThy/s1600-h/IMG_5024.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 249px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451929185127750098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimK_zyHW2mnR8rYZpXUPSGtHSETD7UNjS0KzpCqbqs6X-4OCejcLCmD-PLfWqpNq7jLndMX7VnHs2Sdc58oNxvIYYTiq5q81ocTqHoByclxk96ds1SLNL7lOo-DXhgUo1Oxfxyu7KBCThy/s320/IMG_5024.JPG" /></a>One of my friends located some good peanut butter and strawberry jam so we made a bunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for our food item. It was so simple, yet sooo delicious. The hardest part was not eating the sandwiches after they were made because all of us hadn't had a PB & J in sooo long! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqns9xPuo21VvAlj0uFpELYpGCckDC2EFuoPCaUUIiub7d3kH6-AVHtmW2byNdHjoj45jvWzIw2HXwr-o-DZfJsNLn214qeGYK8c6o8QxMNyb0r4bILHMnU-Hmt0G5MSG4FwIDFmA3-lAu/s1600-h/IMG_4987.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 252px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 179px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451931277046344354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqns9xPuo21VvAlj0uFpELYpGCckDC2EFuoPCaUUIiub7d3kH6-AVHtmW2byNdHjoj45jvWzIw2HXwr-o-DZfJsNLn214qeGYK8c6o8QxMNyb0r4bILHMnU-Hmt0G5MSG4FwIDFmA3-lAu/s320/IMG_4987.JPG" /></a>Plus the sandwiches were perfect because people here really don't know what they're all about. At first, they were weirded out by the peanut butter, looked at it as if it were poison and said things like, "Peanut butter? What?" But usually after tasting it their skepticism faded and they were saying, "Wow this is SO good!" And we were like, "We know!"<br /><br />One French girl liked PB & J so much she came running up to our table, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMZtvxtErSn8OiufhX_LmoGqnZq0snl3lKbHYMYHyVn5KqDIhPXgiDOMfNUeRlPTScJH5G8Cll8hoEEwXH59WqKU5_cv1wrCP-suKtHnMH9vZTJokZ4g_oiY13TWD5IfCUK8T0b9ohEYW/s1600-h/IMG_5027.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 175px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933022498178866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMZtvxtErSn8OiufhX_LmoGqnZq0snl3lKbHYMYHyVn5KqDIhPXgiDOMfNUeRlPTScJH5G8Cll8hoEEwXH59WqKU5_cv1wrCP-suKtHnMH9vZTJokZ4g_oiY13TWD5IfCUK8T0b9ohEYW/s320/IMG_5027.JPG" /></a>dragging her friends behind her and started jumping up and down she was so excited. She made all her friends try the sandwiches and then if they didn't like it, she'd eat it for them. She came back after every class period for more. Her enthousiasm for peanut butter was awesome, and very contagious. By the time I finally ate a sandwich, I was hopping up and down too. I hope that I will never again take peanut butter for granted. I just feel bad that the girl couldn't try American peanut butter. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCc9MX8GHRj2BEtpbigEvPXiRQ2fTMGFTNy8OlkxUXAq_6s1RGVgDfqgoalJnjH2-ryZhILJ-s4lTvt9xF4l6CCPpyfwDuHfD_0R4aXSR_Soa-eYvYDKBr2l2HVkGp374aYTXH1ZwMvxz/s1600-h/IMG_4996.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 237px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451931261692216418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCc9MX8GHRj2BEtpbigEvPXiRQ2fTMGFTNy8OlkxUXAq_6s1RGVgDfqgoalJnjH2-ryZhILJ-s4lTvt9xF4l6CCPpyfwDuHfD_0R4aXSR_Soa-eYvYDKBr2l2HVkGp374aYTXH1ZwMvxz/s320/IMG_4996.JPG" /></a>If I ever find out who she is I'll have to send her a jar of Skippy or Jif.<br /><br />The other food was great too. I love trying new things and it was so much fun going from station to station, eating the food and looking at the other countries' costumes and decorations. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbO_tZMur8mFhPWO8LOnBx5ja68CFaSr4pZpoCMgofY9uNYqzj36xKoPJr149WKlJ_VKlOjFYZ8MohE4lKqBtrrLrvHMrxB1UaETWbBbOU8IijGJzwmBDzrHH7O0bLrTd_flZA-4xuo3a/s1600-h/IMG_4992.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933017055414050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbO_tZMur8mFhPWO8LOnBx5ja68CFaSr4pZpoCMgofY9uNYqzj36xKoPJr149WKlJ_VKlOjFYZ8MohE4lKqBtrrLrvHMrxB1UaETWbBbOU8IijGJzwmBDzrHH7O0bLrTd_flZA-4xuo3a/s320/IMG_4992.JPG" /></a>The countries represented were France, Poland, Vietnam, Japan, China, Korea, Holland, Mexico and the US. The Vietnamese girls donned these beautiful dresses and served shrimp flavored rice cake things along with sausage and sticky rice. Poland served some carmel candies and bread (I think babka piaskowa) and danced around to Polka music.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3dd9ZtT2PVLaYucCSAbTtQD_BJNrL0sa8gsN-YbYjFEuysfFdHAxRXvC1piC4Va1WIUrZ7p-3UIX9x87e9kgb6TW8Jnu-o78sMik5bfw9X33NsVyKITdZoBEkhuXB1HotZ7TyPluC9Nj/s1600-h/IMG_5002.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451931270678125042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3dd9ZtT2PVLaYucCSAbTtQD_BJNrL0sa8gsN-YbYjFEuysfFdHAxRXvC1piC4Va1WIUrZ7p-3UIX9x87e9kgb6TW8Jnu-o78sMik5bfw9X33NsVyKITdZoBEkhuXB1HotZ7TyPluC9Nj/s320/IMG_5002.JPG" /></a>The Japanese and Korean girls wore their kimonos and made this cabbage cake from Japan called okonomi-yaki and these delicious Korean noodles. They were also writing peoples names in characters so I had my name written in Korean and three different ways in Japanese.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96Noi_7LDd7SPOEXgnWpkFRNq-BiUxzFBSKYkjDlvERzB-IMQsUIZqSh681h_VUUSw52zA29OE-7xlsnygcJ_gJqyISa-WCK2aoueclZ86ijVlXt29M9ruSSCJdAdYoyu0ARUFTkuc1wB/s1600-h/IMG_4998.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 257px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933032265237506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96Noi_7LDd7SPOEXgnWpkFRNq-BiUxzFBSKYkjDlvERzB-IMQsUIZqSh681h_VUUSw52zA29OE-7xlsnygcJ_gJqyISa-WCK2aoueclZ86ijVlXt29M9ruSSCJdAdYoyu0ARUFTkuc1wB/s320/IMG_4998.JPG" /></a>There were two French booths, one with Angers specialties like chocolates filled with Cointreau jelly and Quernons d’Ardoise (nougat coated in blue chocolate), and the other with pate du foie gras, roquefort cheese, and le petit-suisse on a baguette along with rice pudding and madeleines. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cTVR0M2ASsUge_0WAEci7qMDRp6wSylmWV96C-HHekwbCvaudGb5q0POYPRUQ8kcexzXz4EawjFsOMmqIZjkUVDtTMMn2xMTaR99Jrn_F88o-OwXqGe6YDnqFVg0vmaoytfT9wmM0qCH/s1600-h/IMG_5007.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933028380298994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cTVR0M2ASsUge_0WAEci7qMDRp6wSylmWV96C-HHekwbCvaudGb5q0POYPRUQ8kcexzXz4EawjFsOMmqIZjkUVDtTMMn2xMTaR99Jrn_F88o-OwXqGe6YDnqFVg0vmaoytfT9wmM0qCH/s320/IMG_5007.JPG" /></a>Mexico made guacamole with chips (another food I'd been craving) and this chocolate and chile thing that was really interesting, but very good. They had a lot of decorations from Mexico, including a neato boxing mask.<br /><br />I helped Laura and Isabel make their vlaflip (plain yogurt mixed with vanilla yogurt) and took over for them when they wanted to try some things. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NrVGSgj9TOG0qlMma43Z7JiX5ekVVVsLrS5OwbWgPmn4g-6eOoRKy-vloSSY2Taq2oY1HGiRqVKPC5W9ZAjrj2Tzv6JLpGiuPcAxYoWASLma44YIt1LhL34_zp49Ph-UG7C4odpOQPvB/s1600-h/IMG_4997.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 272px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 201px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451931289467788258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NrVGSgj9TOG0qlMma43Z7JiX5ekVVVsLrS5OwbWgPmn4g-6eOoRKy-vloSSY2Taq2oY1HGiRqVKPC5W9ZAjrj2Tzv6JLpGiuPcAxYoWASLma44YIt1LhL34_zp49Ph-UG7C4odpOQPvB/s320/IMG_4997.JPG" /></a>I had to explain to people who came up that I wasn’t actually from Holland, but that the wooden shoes are called klompen and that there are lots of cows, windmills and tulips there. It was fun pretending to be Dutch and funnier still when Moe joined me behind the table. I'm pretty sure they knew she wasn't Dutch.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg_Lqyl5AdSUqyFxRZpd7x4GFbs9TLSvE9Pbjn4r800wrKNdEJ_jzVXgGdcW9bDVpSe71iO3OEQ77kvtjxTMocqwHSJLpmYJaj7g_2m3NudE6fc6UzH9V55RNZ5c-rdM1eLhxBmnSwHm7N/s1600-h/IMG_5018.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 292px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933523881916050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg_Lqyl5AdSUqyFxRZpd7x4GFbs9TLSvE9Pbjn4r800wrKNdEJ_jzVXgGdcW9bDVpSe71iO3OEQ77kvtjxTMocqwHSJLpmYJaj7g_2m3NudE6fc6UzH9V55RNZ5c-rdM1eLhxBmnSwHm7N/s320/IMG_5018.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQRib70R6a-aSYjfp0Z5skMXmZZibPDGrPMBsiZMA_oqIl0-rk9czhIaVW3VexAnbSnP13PBI6qC8WBTORa3iW35ta9HduY_edph1h_WRGHXBtEgT1bHncGPAlCcCz-7raS20mWoMPrkh/s1600-h/IMG_5017.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 290px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 217px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933533782236850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQRib70R6a-aSYjfp0Z5skMXmZZibPDGrPMBsiZMA_oqIl0-rk9czhIaVW3VexAnbSnP13PBI6qC8WBTORa3iW35ta9HduY_edph1h_WRGHXBtEgT1bHncGPAlCcCz-7raS20mWoMPrkh/s320/IMG_5017.JPG" /></a>But the best part of the whole thing was the fact that us Americans taught the other students how to line dance. We taught them the Cupid Shuffle, Electric Slide, Hand Jive, Macarena (I hope Mexico was cool with that), Soulja Boy, Cotton Eyed Joe and the Cha Cha Slide. We played songs from the Beach Boys, YMCA, Don't Stop Believin', Grease, Party in the USA, Thriller (one girl knew the entire dance), and Single Ladies (another girl danced this exactly like Beyonce and put the rest of us to shame). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZI1Hd0aeGaNLOxsF-kjB5J794h1D1Bu3yXU3zT56Yc3TB9Fr9P_D1oJNFaUmoAk-YQplJzU5B4cR7sTlzBoZlEKnGkW1l2rBaNNLbDZEid7Jh3OTX1bCzzm_Jy5hgfsPV3MnRV0-CJW9/s1600-h/IMG_5019.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 253px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 186px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451931292669542418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZI1Hd0aeGaNLOxsF-kjB5J794h1D1Bu3yXU3zT56Yc3TB9Fr9P_D1oJNFaUmoAk-YQplJzU5B4cR7sTlzBoZlEKnGkW1l2rBaNNLbDZEid7Jh3OTX1bCzzm_Jy5hgfsPV3MnRV0-CJW9/s320/IMG_5019.JPG" /></a>Everytime there was a break for class we’d start dancing in the hallway and have passerbys join us. It was like High School Musical ... but in college and in France. Everyone had such a great time. And better yet, I jokingly asked my my socio-culturelle teacher if we could get extra credit for putting this on and she said yes! This is perfect considering her mid-term is going to be a monster.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffmnD81XhXW860hsJxYn01l5WhIXgKadxT7ZN4ZtHpslNU2F3qvIXreGpbv4WdkTf9sYSuorqElazmHWKz7vEEDAEm6UOdK637d-lZfOZkSB0Fpd3E8HX6EoGo3sJXs1p17YM2n3WRRzA/s1600-h/IMG_5029.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451929190332947266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffmnD81XhXW860hsJxYn01l5WhIXgKadxT7ZN4ZtHpslNU2F3qvIXreGpbv4WdkTf9sYSuorqElazmHWKz7vEEDAEm6UOdK637d-lZfOZkSB0Fpd3E8HX6EoGo3sJXs1p17YM2n3WRRzA/s320/IMG_5029.JPG" /></a>Bye, Au revoir, Do widzenia, Tạm biệt, Sayonara, Zài jiàn, To boayo, Dag, Adiós!<br /><br />Heidi<br /><br />Picture of me and my langue prof, Mme Billette! (And yes in one of the pictures, I'm the only one with my eyes closed.)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6jmt2b2A8-hazfi_3JjivCYY3EUOkAYU7zlWHMIKjM7qz3B_Xd0c_SMAQPuToeB7YG9HUl_ewxF2UzgoO3W5FkLyszQrbrW90_SJeEq4B8XorongsOKFFiVhpOktJIZFIn2kSkskSuzJ/s1600-h/IMG_4999.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933536983448498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6jmt2b2A8-hazfi_3JjivCYY3EUOkAYU7zlWHMIKjM7qz3B_Xd0c_SMAQPuToeB7YG9HUl_ewxF2UzgoO3W5FkLyszQrbrW90_SJeEq4B8XorongsOKFFiVhpOktJIZFIn2kSkskSuzJ/s320/IMG_4999.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYb2M3ihy2ap19A-JoZHuiwZ2-ELfRz4uWaOQrMy-jPzcHVKUkqiY3I10OUKYcDHBr5ZQ9v_oPEN1q7-SHL7RMrnWdpMpmLbYJ1DSWKSvnWZ3f7GlQY0-V04709LvH2iUmD3boIs_ZFQnH/s1600-h/IMG_5013.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933540848786498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYb2M3ihy2ap19A-JoZHuiwZ2-ELfRz4uWaOQrMy-jPzcHVKUkqiY3I10OUKYcDHBr5ZQ9v_oPEN1q7-SHL7RMrnWdpMpmLbYJ1DSWKSvnWZ3f7GlQY0-V04709LvH2iUmD3boIs_ZFQnH/s320/IMG_5013.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxXbIy3Ig-dV4eBzdU9HnE7FkuGvRkjij4ZahizBxU0sSwXeCY7k1L_EfaZT5WiXqJdskgwjzNZGuMu39BqPX-zw5lYcAo_O0fwbjM9s_t1SFAJ5U6IRJz3dD7jfukoX9xUGnGUWCT0ZLt/s1600-h/IMG_5049.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 328px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 227px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933040615951282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxXbIy3Ig-dV4eBzdU9HnE7FkuGvRkjij4ZahizBxU0sSwXeCY7k1L_EfaZT5WiXqJdskgwjzNZGuMu39BqPX-zw5lYcAo_O0fwbjM9s_t1SFAJ5U6IRJz3dD7jfukoX9xUGnGUWCT0ZLt/s320/IMG_5049.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sCcmZE3We18CBQPaB9V57Y7PZdZaozchKg3FrvufOGzPlcMX-iWD5TG6CzQm1-V6DAleQSVAIfCJ1rsrHpHt1aVh7AhZR17EDBmZgAnm5FlgC8lXSBWcgc_brrAPaNibknnCnfwHuTKH/s1600-h/IMG_4978.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451933543999964386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sCcmZE3We18CBQPaB9V57Y7PZdZaozchKg3FrvufOGzPlcMX-iWD5TG6CzQm1-V6DAleQSVAIfCJ1rsrHpHt1aVh7AhZR17EDBmZgAnm5FlgC8lXSBWcgc_brrAPaNibknnCnfwHuTKH/s320/IMG_4978.JPG" /></a>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699614084788404804.post-68869261019137596402010-03-22T04:16:00.000-07:002010-03-30T00:07:26.919-07:00Musique Pour Tous<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsDbucIRVj764Hm3REdqqLeODiBJ17llFpVnrHPb20jaPaHeiXHQg625G5gru6J7iqK7gn0134Shv4RC8u03XDV-NTrIfiGR3AoBHab-uFvu6uBxKfRO-r5zr8uOpDd53hJXZ00LToiDV/s1600-h/IMG_4752.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451419259465830994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsDbucIRVj764Hm3REdqqLeODiBJ17llFpVnrHPb20jaPaHeiXHQg625G5gru6J7iqK7gn0134Shv4RC8u03XDV-NTrIfiGR3AoBHab-uFvu6uBxKfRO-r5zr8uOpDd53hJXZ00LToiDV/s320/IMG_4752.JPG" border="0" /></a>For only three euros, I was able to attend a concert entitled “Jazz Pour Tous” (Jazz for all) at the Grand Theatre d’Angers. The theater was smaller than I thought it would be, but it was very beautiful and ornate. The light cast by the chandelier glittered on the ceiling and bounced off the gilded walls, creating a magical atmosphere. The concert was an hour and a half and it was really good, though the only piece I recognized was George Gershwin’s “Soon.” <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSLcFExvElD21e6yn8kU_vXD_aOjNljwHi5fyT5cdtZ_v_r99CH-5PHabQYkp8-P3YA7k_I__cvg0xoQ7S0FdSFHCRnm0OhJzE4bKg7-qth1rs1qoP5iRG-nriZxUHBfxMrrlO1J8WG6cP/s1600-h/IMG_4755.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451419807434327330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSLcFExvElD21e6yn8kU_vXD_aOjNljwHi5fyT5cdtZ_v_r99CH-5PHabQYkp8-P3YA7k_I__cvg0xoQ7S0FdSFHCRnm0OhJzE4bKg7-qth1rs1qoP5iRG-nriZxUHBfxMrrlO1J8WG6cP/s320/IMG_4755.JPG" border="0" /></a>The Joe Cohn-Dimitri Baevsky Quartet was comprised of a guitarist from New York, a bassist from France, a saxophonist from Russia and a drummer from I don’t know where. It was really wonderful, except jazz always makes me feel like dancing and you can’t exactly dance in your seat. I hope the people behind me weren’t annoyed that I was swaying side to side. Grandma and Grandpa, you would have loved it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9muWEur7dxuEYrANmGqCP7KiqP0IyJgKXy9pogLupcKUZAlvhsww73TXupgPycqWvdQjbV_QHJoNXyaaHpk5SnXSnhil5Xk2udpC67AxpCWeLqe5uIHWVEBs4fxEWQAjsuoOevjJKSA3/s1600-h/serge_gainsbourg_film+poster.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451419278079253746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9muWEur7dxuEYrANmGqCP7KiqP0IyJgKXy9pogLupcKUZAlvhsww73TXupgPycqWvdQjbV_QHJoNXyaaHpk5SnXSnhil5Xk2udpC67AxpCWeLqe5uIHWVEBs4fxEWQAjsuoOevjJKSA3/s320/serge_gainsbourg_film+poster.jpg" border="0" /></a>I also saw my first film in France a bit ago. It was about the life of Serge Gainsbourg. I didn’t have a clue who he was because I know almost zero French musicians. Luckily, the French girl sitting next to me was able to tell me a lot before the film started. Gainsbourg was a famous/infamous singer-songwriter who led a rather sordid and worldly life during the sexual revolution of the 1960/70s. “Sex, drugs and rock and roll” describes him perfectly; he’s not someone I’d call a good role model. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP_7EVpB0BBFS3u2iEtUHyVGBg-afzcYh39uD4rzl6DZ4ivXhfaDXcIzHdCJEGxNTEkAgJi6qvOrNTBuhfx_mf-WhzazOpYze0NQQtgTeaC7wg2vmwDxdaadx68Rrf_bVqZWMiI1L7x4yl/s1600-h/serge+gainsbourg.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451419572103148306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP_7EVpB0BBFS3u2iEtUHyVGBg-afzcYh39uD4rzl6DZ4ivXhfaDXcIzHdCJEGxNTEkAgJi6qvOrNTBuhfx_mf-WhzazOpYze0NQQtgTeaC7wg2vmwDxdaadx68Rrf_bVqZWMiI1L7x4yl/s320/serge+gainsbourg.jpg" border="0" /></a>The funny thing is I watched an episode of the new 90210 last Tuesday and in the background of one of the scenes I heard a Gainsbourg song playing. I honestly couldn’t believe it. I would have never guessed I’d be hearing a French song on 90210. It was so bizarre, but pretty cool that I was able to recognize it. I give whoever found that song major props because it fit the scene perfectly. I doubt very many people watch the show, but in case you want to look it up, it was in Season 2, Episode 14 with Jasper and Annie.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMklHLT4CpEryVs5zxM41EsaGLXl607wd3wiQ3ynqE19JSE1tP3pa3tOcCTr5Yl8PGMYttPTarxrA6mtbHy-zW3xV6Dq_9NmgL7Lwx7pbjQ0J5eDcjiYsveuZ1Rhi5f7W_vIyU_o91yYk-/s1600-h/edith+piaf.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451422089725511986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMklHLT4CpEryVs5zxM41EsaGLXl607wd3wiQ3ynqE19JSE1tP3pa3tOcCTr5Yl8PGMYttPTarxrA6mtbHy-zW3xV6Dq_9NmgL7Lwx7pbjQ0J5eDcjiYsveuZ1Rhi5f7W_vIyU_o91yYk-/s320/edith+piaf.jpg" border="0" /></a>This brings me to the subject of French music. I hadn’t been exposed to much Fre<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycGeuQwKBVPeMI8I9FxBsNrJTIi5_gcgtoeuEyCfV5R8q5lYw-0z9F_za-Z_0NLj0_FPxgJx2djVc1odrAm20xk3S4RvAsHJFQduapVesLYAHJlOXcFQW96RPWRYnTj3xSmIv6qSRuEeD/s1600-h/carmen_bizet.png"></a>nch music in the States other than famous pieces like Bizet’s Carmen, Debussy’s “Le Claire De Lune,” Edith Piaf’s “La Vie en Rose,” Joe Dassin’s “Aux Champs Elysee,” “La Marseillaise” and “Frère Jacques” so I was hoping to learn a bunch more. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwh6doV3e7LxpTIpLZhwKMv1NhamVDLjhDnGHyrN149WnnzbTepNdQvbiQG3kMv-LSqcvpG5UEKkQg_HHjigCI7tryePP2bKltrIzoDJbSNY9Fnqfusb6jCLepdbtqrjbkWNmjH5spfYK/s1600-h/edith+piaf.jpg"></a>I knew a little about Claude François, who I really like despite the fact that he earned his living ripping off other people’s songs, but that was the extent of my musical knowledge. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpAcCR70lmZyuABFNlfyTr2n5DfDaCIu7A-Fx8R7zO83cLZ_aFzsDvaSlL65X9n5Cem04RIbAsnSDmVtLHoasP45ZAMJZq8lcUVLNJACtQ07GZRL_UoCwcpWnV1iUAL58uV1vHBWhEsTlE/s1600-h/claude+francois.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0i98kKHySUfIKbb4FxBT2ps-_y5L3eT7EGu2P84w0eKQB5FIQg5A2g6upn9Oo2cHBQfVJ9hcC4QUu4JbyFIaEVjv3fKaPh0MUF-BvjFN8Mi-CYEo8k7fckQFDer9GRvSEyYkol14NzCn8/s1600-h/claude+francois.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451423138495749042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0i98kKHySUfIKbb4FxBT2ps-_y5L3eT7EGu2P84w0eKQB5FIQg5A2g6upn9Oo2cHBQfVJ9hcC4QUu4JbyFIaEVjv3fKaPh0MUF-BvjFN8Mi-CYEo8k7fckQFDer9GRvSEyYkol14NzCn8/s320/claude+francois.jpg" border="0" /></a>(Claude François was famous for doing covers of Motown music by the likes of The Four Tops, Herman’s Hermits, The Beatles, Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons, Creedence Clearwater, Barry Manilow, and Don Mclean. His one original work was “Comme d’habitude” the original version of “My Way” which was made famous by Frank Sinatra. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claude_Fran%C3%A7ois">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claude_Fran%C3%A7ois</a>)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7qJcpympMC__y9aUC_-JJugapSYdkLdmkdfkNak46PHuyIOLYSmSjDNYYti5ImuYr1XBp_w0rup5f-wOPRnoEMl7w7-EM1sg3h41_Scbf-DiONDY3Au5iGEQtg2gRV_2l20nOX0wHsnc/s1600-h/david+guetta+one+love.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rUC9NhUQb0TISUQkr2VfU1G8O8oqoQUAuGEZKXxee5_XjY49n15crGLX3nX8aLkFHj-fwryLha-D1HdQuoctL4xkCjigVsI94YiLr71sa3LJC9jw3yrsb62ODblrdT5DeeLrSTMof8XM/s1600-h/david+guetta+one+love.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451423062986973666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 271px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rUC9NhUQb0TISUQkr2VfU1G8O8oqoQUAuGEZKXxee5_XjY49n15crGLX3nX8aLkFHj-fwryLha-D1HdQuoctL4xkCjigVsI94YiLr71sa3LJC9jw3yrsb62ODblrdT5DeeLrSTMof8XM/s320/david+guetta+one+love.jpg" border="0" /></a>I quickly found that today’s French music is completely dominated by the American music industry, with the exception of French house/techno artists like Daft Punk, Bob Sinclair and David Guetta. Within a half hour of listening to the radio, I heard The Black Eyed Peas, Lady Gaga, Owl City, Taylor Swift and Elvis—all on the same station. So if you listen to KIISFM back home, you’ll feel right at home. However, if you’re more like me and like a wider variety of music that spans the decades, or just want to expand your musical knowledge, popular French stations just aren’t going to cut it. I’m going to have to ask Madame what stations play the Breton music she’s always listening to, or just resort to youtube.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9xFBUYLQocwsRG3JrxzEGDAdgarPYyg3xybBaYj9MerCCRwqymssp2lFmdlyRFuT1X3mSruMux1yPjxwKg3qF0oueGMvFn6232NOhyQDSduAsEANA7Fe61hyphenhyphenmKvRmGz0TgN_dfNjlix2/s1600-h/IMG_4759.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451422094635688050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9xFBUYLQocwsRG3JrxzEGDAdgarPYyg3xybBaYj9MerCCRwqymssp2lFmdlyRFuT1X3mSruMux1yPjxwKg3qF0oueGMvFn6232NOhyQDSduAsEANA7Fe61hyphenhyphenmKvRmGz0TgN_dfNjlix2/s320/IMG_4759.JPG" border="0" /></a>The cool thing about music is that it transcends language barriers. Music connects all sorts of people because you don’t need words to express yourself, just a beat or a rhythm.<br /><br />A plus!<br /><br />Heidi<br /><br />P.S. See if you recognize this song: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWRVpiXHl0Q">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWRVpiXHl0Q</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJX4sMLJVKDSHcTkyVwmFhfzJZK7uck55v7Xkr-ZoteBb-Fgc_dyEBPegwMZLKI2UxAg1bLaENHzjpu8Q9HX7gVzvrSZ8DIA6xwTnoZYd1NuLpoJHV0C9zrNF08c2wDnBZ3guvOU2wLZL/s1600-h/IMG_4751.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451419272020572578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJX4sMLJVKDSHcTkyVwmFhfzJZK7uck55v7Xkr-ZoteBb-Fgc_dyEBPegwMZLKI2UxAg1bLaENHzjpu8Q9HX7gVzvrSZ8DIA6xwTnoZYd1NuLpoJHV0C9zrNF08c2wDnBZ3guvOU2wLZL/s320/IMG_4751.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkRBVaIr12sx1vMOIrXlL-R4KuJxJQZn5uXLPZlT5-jdwOkVk8ihHtkUCDxu1XgxM-UQFejv4NUfM9-2Xj5mWVpyjkM_b_oabvZH3r01AUVYyDC6FcUknM9bM18k3n5bYR1c1AycbSUSi/s1600-h/IMG_4756.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451419274200302082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkRBVaIr12sx1vMOIrXlL-R4KuJxJQZn5uXLPZlT5-jdwOkVk8ihHtkUCDxu1XgxM-UQFejv4NUfM9-2Xj5mWVpyjkM_b_oabvZH3r01AUVYyDC6FcUknM9bM18k3n5bYR1c1AycbSUSi/s320/IMG_4756.JPG" border="0" /></a>wroblickyhhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01892996182194894362noreply@blogger.com0