April in Paris

Dear friends,

Once again, I am playing the catch-up game.  I suppose it’s not the worst problem to have – to be too busy traveling to write about it?  Then again, I dearly love writing (and being your favorite literary hermit).  Alas, here I am, reminiscing about my weekend in Paris weeks later.

I went for the last weekend of March to celebrate Easter and my birthday, which was on April 1st. I met one of my best friends, Erin, as well as our friend Mariah and Erin’s brother Brady and cousin Katie.  We decided to rent an apartment for the weekend in the Latin Quarter (5eme arrondissement),which is one of my absolute favorite parts of Paris. It is so vibrant, and full of art, neat restaurants, cafes, and lovely Parisian and International culture.  It is also located right by the Jardins de Luxembourg and the Notre Dame.

The Notre Dame from Pont de l’Archevêché

Luxembourg gardens

It was so wonderful to catch up with my friends, as well as to spend time in one of my favorite cities.  Paris certainly has its flaws but it gets in your blood. I’ve yet to meet a person that could honestly look you in the eye and deny that it is beautiful. You simply cannot out-do the architecture, and the depth of its history.  There is something in the Parisian air, and it’s more than pollution and a Paris sniffle.  Not to mention, so many people are quick to denounce all Parisians as assholes.  Yet, the majority of tourists visit Paris during the summer when 99% (don’t hold me to that statistic) leave the city for extended summer vacations.  Thus, if I were Parisian and stuck in the city dealing with a swarm of non-Francophone tourists while everyone and their dog was on vacation, I’d probably be an asshole too.

To further add to my theory – that perhaps Parisians are only assholes in the summer, if at all – let’s backtrack a bit.  My plans upon arriving to Paris were to meet Erin and she would help me locate our apartment. Erin got there the day before me, so she would already know how to get to the apartment from Gare de Lyon, the SNCF train station, and worst case scenario she would talk me through it on the phone. However, when I got off the train, Erin didn’t answer.  I thought that maybe she didn’t hear her phone ring, and then lo and behold, 20 minutes later I was still lacking a response.  I was also wondering if she was alive (kind of kidding) because this type of thing is very un-Erin-like and she knew that I would be arriving at that time.  Regardless, I had the sinking realization that I would be navigating to the apartment alone, with no map, no idea how to get to the Latin Quarter from the train station, and in fact not even a general idea of what direction I was headed in.  All that I knew was that I needed to get to 27 Rue des Boulangers.  I also knew that  I was royally screwed, and I refused to pay the “flat rate” aka idiot fee of 40 euros for a taxi from the station.

So what’s a lone girl to do in the center of Paris with a giant red suitcase, aka a “SPOT THE DUMBEST TOURIST, KICK ME” sign, and no idea where to go? Well, I asked for help.  Though, keep in mind that one his hard-pressed to find decent directions with nothing but an address of a tiny apartment on a tiny side street in a major city. Long story short, the most hilarious and delightful Parisian couple helped me.  In fact, they walked me over ten minutes in the opposite direction from their home to the correct bus stop that would take me to my apartment, explained how to get to my apartment from the stop on the other side, made sure I had the money to pay for the fare, and gave me tons of tips for what to do in Paris.  I was beginning to consider asking if they were interested in adopting me as well – sorry Mom and Dad, though I’m sure you wouldn’t mind letting someone else foot the bill for a while.  It probably would have been an (even more) awesome weekend.  BUT, have no fear: their directions were perfect and I made it just fine and sorted everything out with Erin, who was thankfully alive and more or less well after also having suffered a few minor complications.

I also had pleasant interactions with Parisians throughout the entire trip.  Everyone was very friendly and helpful at restaurants and inevitably when I needed to ask for more directions later on.  I think it’s better now that I speak French well, but nevertheless it was refreshing to experience Paris during the “off-season.”  At the risk of sounding like an outdated advertisement for Disneyland, it’s a magical place.

The weekend went by way too quickly, so I was unable to see everything that I wanted to see. That said, we were able to do a few touristy things as well as making time to simply meander around the city. Notably, we went to the Notre Dame for Easter Mass:

Erin and I before Mass

Easter Mass

We also did more touring of the Luxembourg Gardens:

representing our homeland in the Luxembourg Gardens

And we visited Montmartre;

Montmartre

Erin and I “throwing what we know” over Montmartre

we ate fabulous Macaroons at Laduree, the most famous macaroons in Paris, if not the world;

Laduree

we visited the Pantheon;

inside the Pantheon

and we visited the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysee.

The Arc de Triomphe, Champs Elysee

I could not have asked for much more. I was such a lucky birthday girl already, and then my friend Jeff – one of my best friends from Elon – was also able to meet us out to celebrate, and he happened to be staying in the same arrondissment!

Jeff and I celebrating my birthday

I will forever love Paris, and I am able to look back on my birthday weekend as one of those times when everything seemed to align.  Sure, life is never perfect, but mine has been pretty darn close lately.  I am so blessed to have been surrounded by so many people who love me, all reunited in one of the greatest cities of the world.

Until next time.

xoxo,

Claire

“There’s no food at the bottom of a rainbow” and other shenanigans from a Dublin St. Paddy’s Day

Dear Friends,

This is beginning to feel like that middle school diary that you only wrote in to apologize for having not written.  With that said, I am making sincere efforts to be more up to date with my travels.  Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, though, because this post is about St. Patrick’s Day–only three weeks later.  But I absolutely cannot leave that weekend out of my blog.

The river Liffey lit up for St. Patrick’s Day

That weekend, my mom, Ursula, and twin sister, Anna, came from America to meet me in Dublin, along with Kim (for a three-peat of weekends together!) and several other American friends.  It was so amazing to see mom and Anna after nearly three months apart.  I come from a very tightly knit family, so being away has been wonderful and liberating, but truthfully rather difficult.  I felt so lucky being able to see them while still in Europe–it was pretty surreal.

Me, Mom, Anna, and Kim reunited (p.s. thanks for that Anna…)

But let’s back up a little bit.  The process of actually getting to Dublin merits a bit of blog space.  Candice and I found really cheap round-trip flights from Rodez, France to Dublin.  In case you were wondering, it’s hard to find any reasonable flight to Ireland on St. Paddy’s weekend, so when we realized that Rodez was only two hours from Montpellier by car, there was no way we could refuse.  Then came the realization that with train routes it would take nearly six hours, and our flight was early in the morning Saturday.  So, we decided to use covoiturage (a paid carpooling network–rather like couch surfing, but cheap and not too sketchy) to go on Friday night.  We knew Rodez would be small, but we were thinking we’d hang out, go to a cafe, find some nail polish at a store and do girly, French countryside type things.  That way we’d have a nice relaxing evening before the craziness of Dublin.  False.

We did, in fact, relax.  But that was only because there was absolutely nothing to do in Rodez, France. Picture those drive-through West Virginia mountain towns that you hesitate to stop in, even for gas and rest stop.   Now put that in a random armpit of France, where literally no one has heard English in their entire lives – or at least not by someone foreign traveling through Rodez.  Thus, you are effectively an alien species and are treated as such. And there you have it.  We somehow found a McDonald’s for dinner and then hid out in our hotel, where the shower was next to the bed and the toilet had a lovely saloon-style door.  See below:

Heeey Candice 😉 Hanging Rodez style

Also, the airport was easily the smallest airport I have ever seen in my life.  There were two flights leaving from it that day, and ours was one of them.  Regardless, it was a smooth flight and ultimately worth the hundreds of dollars that we saved. Thank you RyanAir?

Now back to Dublin: It was so amazing to return to one of my favorite places in the world.  In case I haven’t already talked your ear off about it, I studied abroad in Ireland last winter term and I absolutely fell in love with it.  Dublin isn’t the most beautiful city in the world, but you cannot beat the Irish countryside.  And, in all of my travels – which I am truly blessed to say have been extensive – I have never, and likely will never find people who are nicer than those who I have met in Ireland.  They somehow even manage to show up southern hospitality.  Not to mention my fondness for Irish literature, and history, and well, you get the picture…needless to say I was so excited to return to one of my first travel loves.  As soon as I landed all of the fuzzy feelings came back, and I was pleased to find that I hadn’t put it up on too much of a pedestal. Even with the city flooded with tourists, the Irish were just as welcoming as ever, if not more.

Candice and I immediately set out to meet mom, Anna, and Kim at the apartment that we rented for the week.  After a happy and energetic reunion, we then got the celebrations started right away. We bought tons of tacky St. Paddy’s Day goods, a few nicer souvenirs, and then headed to the pub.  I mean, we were in Ireland. On Saint Patrick’s Day weekend.  What do you expect?  Oh, and we also ate at one of our favorite places: The Hairy Lemon.  It is right in the middle of things, and has amazing, traditional Irish food.  And Guinness.

The Hairy Lemon

We had so much fun listening to live music, catching up, and celebrating.  We didn’t make it to many of the tourist sites while I was there because the time passed way too quickly.  Thankfully I had seen almost every big site before (Trinity, The Book of Kells, Glendalough, The Jameson Factory, The Zoo, Kilmainham Gaol, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, The Writer’s Museum, you name it..).  That said, we did make an appearance in The Temple Bar area.  We had to experience what St. Paddy’s Day was about amongst swarms of other drunken tourists.  Eventually we sought out more traditional and hidden areas, but it was fun to go for a bit.

Candice and I in Temple Bar

Also, did I mention that we – and by we, I mean Candice – convinced a taxi driver to take all five of us in his car by explaining that she was a leprechaun, and not a real person?  And leprechauns need food, but there is no food at the bottom of the rainbow.  Clearly he had no choice but to make the sacrifice of illegally dropping us off at Tesco’s….

After those shenanigans, we also checked out the Guinness Factory:

A little tired, but nonetheless carrying on the Guinness torch at the gravity bar

We were wiped out after all of the festivities, but the Gravity Bar is probably the best view you will find of Dublin.  It’s an amazing panorama from the top, not to mention the tour and the history of the beer is pretty fascinating.  It’s a cool process, and this beer, unlike almost any other, is an integral part to Irish culture (all Irish drinking jokes aside).

In addition to going to the Guinness Factory, Temple Bar, and The Hairy Lemon, we also made it to The Long Hall, which is one of the more historic pubs in Dublin.  It is also one of a select number of pubs that serves Galway Hooker beer, which is one of my favorites (hooker referring to sailboats, not prostitutes as one might think). For those of you who are into beer tasting, it’s a nice pale ale with a bit of a fruity/caramel twist to it–it’s a kind of like Sweetwater 42o or Sierra Nevada, but I’m pretty sure there are unicorn hairs or something in it as well to make it so good.  In addition to finding Galway Hookers at The Long Hall, we also made some wonderful Swedish friends: Sandra, Therese, and Rebecca. We had so much fun sharing stories and learning about Swedish Traditions (cough cough drinking songs).  We ended up hanging out with them all night on Saint Patrick’s and it was so much fun!  Hopefully we’ll see them again in Sweden, America, or somewhere around the world.

Ultimately it was a wonderful weekend.  I loved catching up with all of my friends and celebrating such a big holiday.

As anticipated, as much as I love France it was so hard convincing myself to leave.  I am still irrevocably in love with Dublin, and the entire country of Ireland.  But, more importantly, I had no interest in saying goodbye to my mom, Anna, or Kim and friends.  It was really a blessing in disguise that I had to leave at 5 am on Tuesday before I could process what was happening.  Although, it wasn’t too pleasant when “Don’t Forget To Remember Me” came onto my shuffle as I was taxiing into the lovely Rodez, but life goes on.  I’ll be writing more updates on all of the fun that I have been having in France since then, so don’t feel too bad for me.

Until next time, Dublin and friends.  I hope that it will be very soon.

xoxo,

Claire