Monday, March 29, 2010

grooving around Paris

On a fabulous shopping extrvaganza, my materialistic needs led me to Italie 2, my favorite Parisian big mall metropolis.  Right outside of the sleek silvery entrance, an older man with incontestable rhythm bounced his way to surprise entertainment.  Later I found out this man, Papy Dance, is actually quite a sub-cultural phenomenon.    
[--play video now--]



Papy Dance has been grooving his way around Paris for 20 years now - showcasing his signature moves, his favorite of which seem to be the simple stomp and finger-point.  Aside from his intense moments hip wiggling, this granpa appears as a youthful, but just as scary, Santa Claus - bittersweetly attracting giggly little children to run up to with some change in hand.  Inspriring the old and the young to join him in his cheorographic journey, Papy Dance holds an endearing spot in Parisian society.  Look out for him at Place d'Italie, Bastille, and Chatelet

Saturday, March 27, 2010

tweets and melodies of oiseaux

Yesterday, on my routine monthly run I discovered the answer to a riddle that has perplexed me since spring started showing its head in Paris.  My apartment is typical Parisian - an awkward instance of "taking advantage of space" in which my bedroom doubles as a dining room and my kitchen has no natural lighting and is the size of an elongated closet.  My bathroom sits opposite the kitchen, across the tiny entrée, and goes about its ventilation through two dusty vents that give out onto some vestibule of fresh air that I have yet to place geographically.  

Well, since spring started teasing us, my bathroom experience has been quite harmonious as tweets and melodies of oiseaux float past the dust and land in my ears.  You don't really see that many birds in Paris -- excluding pigeons, colliding with whom is a personal daily fear -- and so I've been wondering why they have all seemed to cluster behind my bathroom.

{rescued from here}

My run gave me the answer.  On my signature 3 minute 'post-run cool-down walk' I ventured to les arènes de Lutèce, the remains of a Roman gladiatorial amphitheater, located right behind my dwelling.  Well well well - to my surprise and satisfaction, this arena also houses la Maison des oiseaux." Open on Saturdays from 13h30 to 17h30, this house of birds aims to promote the preservation of biodiversity.  And, unknowingly, it shines musical loveliness into my salle de bain - props to all the birdies.  I look forward to meeting them all next samedi.

chirp chirp!

Thursday, March 25, 2010

less than a week away

Uh oh, waves have just been made in my film anticipation ocean.  Alice got rivaled, and lost.  On my walk home from a rue de Rennes shindig, I saw a poster I thought would never come.  My dreams have come true: "Cher John" hits Parisian theaters on March 31st.  That is less than a week away.


 How to prepare for such an event?
-  watch the french trailer and marvel at the dubbing (no worries, I'm seeing it in version originale, these things just make me giggle)
-   cancel any previous engagements for the 31st...too bad it's a Wednesday, which means I would have to miss three classes, and thus get a zero for the presentation I have to give in one of them --- It's cool, I'll figure it out
-  maybe slip in a viewing of "Step Up" to reminisce on that time when Tatum changed my life
-  try and forget all of the spoilers that have been whispered my way
- put on my happy shoes
That'll do it.  

Look out for Chan's next flick, "The Eagle of the Ninth", currently in post production, in which he plays a young centurion from 140 AD.  I wonder how he'll do with the whole back in the day thing.


Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Alice aux Pays des Merveilles

Thanks to A Nous, today my sunshine-filled stroll and bus ride to Sciences Po was particularly magnificent.  With its newspaper pages right under my nose, I was taken to another world, Alice's world.  Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland comes out tomorrow in Paris and the reporters at A Nous are all about it.  Not only do they consider Alice to be the current "it" girl, but they reserved a full page spread on products inspired by and embodying the fantastical film.  

I got to get a little closer to Tim through his interview with A Nous, in which he compares himself to the Mad Hatter and talks about working with his wife, Helena Bonham Carter (or the Red Queen).  Having already been enticed to go see the fim by the intriguing posters flanking every metro station, after being thrown into Wonderland by this morning's read, you can be sure that I'll be first in the ticket line tomorrow evening.



To fall into Tim and Alice's wonderful world even more-so, visit my fugly fish's blog, Intervals of Sanity, and click on "Alice in Wonderland" in her cloud of labels.

Friday, March 19, 2010

"streets," skinny dirt paths, and charming staircases

Buda Buda Buda.  Pest Pest Pest.

 Very first thoughts: Oh my gahhh! We're in Hungary!  This is Budapest!  Ahhhhh.  How does this country work?  We are here but we have no forint.  This people look so Hungarian.  Where is an ATM?  How do we get metro tickets? Ahhhhh.
Cue us walking in circles until I finally got the guts to ask an official-looking-woman where the "bankomat" was --- scary, scary, scary.

When we got to the Goat Hostel, we were greeted in the staircase by Steve - the most extraordinary man I've ever met.  He and his broken English led us into what would be our dwelling for the remainder of the trip - the warmest homiest non-home in all of Europe - hardwood floors, couches, giganto windows, slightly off-taste curtains, a view on a happening Hungarian street, coffee machine - it was all there.

It was rather late by the time we arrived, so we had a super cool restaurant picked out from our guidebook that we planned on chowing down at.  Our hostel was on the Pest side, and the dining locale was on the Buda side, so we had to cross over the Danube, which was a.w.e.s.o.m.e.  I just love bridges, being over big quantities of water, watching the liquid crash into the strong pillars, it's just great - and even greater at night.  Budapest has a lot of famous bridges - Liberty Bridge {right right next to our hostel}, Elizabeth Bridge, and Chain bridge.  I think these bridges are why, out of all three capitals of the Hapsburg Triumvirute, Budapest reminded me most of Paris.  We crossed the sparkly Chain Bridge on our hunt for the restaurant.

{photo credit to Christopher Servidio}

At this point, through our experiences in Prague and Vienna, I had assumed the role of navigator, à la Christopher Columbus, with a map of the city always just a zipper away.  Usually I did my job like a pro, getting us from sight to sight in no time, but Budapest didn't want me to get promoted too quickly.  Under my guidance, we climbed to the top of Buda, we walked around the Castle district, made our way down "streets," skinny dirt paths, and charming staircases.  After about an hour and a half of circling and confusion, my failure was officially declared.  Surrounded by a slight gray cloud of shame, we made our way back down the hill, settling on a cute place right by our hostel, approximately 20 meters from where we had first started.  fail.  However, the food was yummy, and it was a great precursor to a wonderful night's sleep.

Every one of my days in Budapest started off with the most perfect cup of coffee - like whoa.  Our hostel offers free breakfast and whoever is on guard at the time -- we were privy to three different people during our stay (including extraordinary Steve) -- makes you the most delicious coffee ever.  I don't know if it was the even-betterlooking-than-starbucks-steamed milk that topped it off or the charming glass mugs it was served in, but wow - just wow.

Walking to the top of Buda - this time in daylight and with fewer furrowed brows, skin taking in the sunshine - was probably my favorite part of our entire Eastern European trip.  As a resident of Paris, I miss hiking and mountains and leaves and dirt :: and the walk to the Liberation Monument that sits atop Gellért Hill offered it all.  By the time we got all the way up, we were hot - a phenomenon that started atop that hill, and unfortunately, ended there as well.  After a magnificent pause of admiration and rest, our adventures continued.


We went to the National Gallery, atop Buda hill number two (via elevator shh), located in a part of Buda Castle.  The simplistic exhibits allowed us to take in lots and lots of Hungarian art - from medieval to contemporary.  I really loved the secessionist art.  Unfortunately I lost the names I had noted down of the artists that intrigued me.  But that's okay, I'll just go back.  {side note: I also must go back because this visit of Budapest didn't include a trip to the baths, I know, the concept is heretical, I don't even want to talk about it}.

We hardly ever took the metro - walking was just so pleasant, with the sun shining and all.  However, some of our walking was not so sunny -- enter the Buda Castle Labyrinth.  Advertised as a children's attraction, we couldn't help but hope it was perfect for us.  I don't really know what I was expecting from it, but when I actually entered the underground edifice of never-ending paths, dirt, and dripping water, I kind of freaked out.  Demanding that I be held by Isa on my left and Chris on my right {to keep me from the Labyrinth monsters} at all times, I'm proud, and surprised, to say I made it out alive.
Dinner took place at the Kaltenberg, or rather, the Kaltenberg Bavarian Royal Restaurant.  This former tabacco factory is now an etterem that brews its own beers, has charming vaulted medieval ceilings, offers half-off dishes on the weekend !!, and provides musical happiness with a live-band trio that simply lights up the night.  After a delicious meal we headed over to Szimpla, an alternative bar full with a painfully hip crowd and delicious pints.

Sunday was not only our last day in Budapest, it was the last day of our fabulous winter break, of our entire Eastern European fiasco.  In celebration of this very important day, we: got lost in an authentic Hungarian flea market, swirled at Liberty Square, walked around St. Stephen's Basilica, got kicked out of Parliament, got snowed on {!??!?!?}, and, most importantly, ate a dish adorned with paprika and learned how to say cheers - "egészségére" - pronounced "agiyeh shaygadrah" (or maybe we just heard our waiter wrong, I don't know, Hungarian spelling really mystified me).


We arose early Monday morning to take our final plane back to Paris.  As I lingered in the airport, I reminisced on all of the wonderful happenings of the past 10 days, of how I could add 4 more countries to my resumé of travels, of how I knew 7 more vocab words, of how I would get to sort through 200+ pictures when I got back, but most importantly, of how friggin cool it was that I drank a good 23 pints in a little over a week - ha, just kidding, or ...?  No, it really was beautiful times.
This being my last post of what was a mind-whirling vacation, I just want to send my love to all of the Londonians, Praguians, Viennese, and Budapestians.  You guys were bomb.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

classy, and the ground is smooth

We got into Vienna in the early afternoon after a short planning-filled train ride.  In the metro, when we had to get from the train station to the stop near our hostel, was where I had my first troubles with language.  Surprisingly, Czech really caused no problems because English is everywhere in Prague.  In Vienna, however, its German German German.  Metro systems are generally pretty simple though, so it wasn't super difficult to navigate through the underground.

After walking for about a block through the harsh Austrian air, we arrived at the Do Step Inn.  Its name alone made me fall in love with it.  This hostel was so nice - clean, organized, roomy - it was great.  I swear their kitchen was nicer than the one back home {just kidding Mama, I love your Wolf}.  The only semi-downer was that the hostel was a good 20 minute walk to the happening spots, but everybody loves a little exercise.

After putting all of our belongings away - in lockers sans locks :/ - we headed to the historic district of the Austrian capital.  Vienna is very classy.  The buildings sport a fresh white finish and the ground is smooth.  Lots of classy shops line their classy streets.  You don't really see people begging at all, and, like in Prague, the people who are forcing flyers into your hands are dressed in velvet red capes advertising operas and orchestras.

 
{photo credit to Isabella Snyder}

After what became our tradition of stopping in a café and organizing our day, this time at the pink Aida, we headed over to the Haus der Musik.  One of the only museums I was actually willing to pay for -- I usually let myself be extravagant on the first day to a city, take that night to realize how moneyless I am, and opt for free adventures for the remainder of my visit -- I couldn't have imagined the journey it would take me on.

Walking past a pretty kosher exhibit on yikes-I-don't-remember-which-composer, we made our way to the second floor and entered the Sonosphere.  This interactive experience constantly left me questioning if this was really real life.  From rooms mimicking your first musical experiences within the womb, to computer tutorials on sounds and the ear, the sonosphere was quite an out-of-body experience.  I now understand nothing of how sounds work, but completely understand how many quirky avant-garde movements found their origins in this city.

Food is always the most important part of any travels.  Stopping and eating at the wurst street stands was fabulous.  I love sausage, bread, and mustard - and eating them all for 3 euro makes the experience that much tastier.  Our Viennese taste buds were slightly elevated later on at the Centimeter II, a relaxed welcoming restaurant located behind the bewildering MuseumsQuartier.  Along with drinking pints of Steigl {one of Chris's word obsessions that we found out was actually a legit beer brand} we devoured lots of wiener schnitzel, goulash, and potato dumplings. Prost!


Our second day in Vienna was a bit chilly, but nothing my anti-fashion rocket dog ugg-look-a-likes couldn't handle.  As these chunky, but extremely warm, boots led me through the city, I realized that palaces just flock to Vienna - they're everywhere.  The Belvedere was extraordinarily fantastic.  Its (free!) gardens just seemed to go on forever.  Looking at nature made me realize how much I was dying for some spring - I really hope to come back when the trees have leaves, the statues stand uncovered, and the fountains are showcasing their liquid splendor.

{photo credit to Isabella Snyder}

I fell under the spell of the Karlskirche, or L’Église Saint-Charles-Borromée as our French guide told us.  Its teal dome just captivated me.  The Karlsplatz, the nearby former metro station, is fabulous as well - the mix of gold leaf and shiny green is quite enchanting.  Whoever Charles was, he did good stuff.

It is in Vienna that I discovered my love for foreign grocery stores, which are fabulous.  Not only is it fun to roam around the aisles of foreign culinary delight, laughing at your lack of vocabulary, letting yourself be guided by pictures and colors, but you get to feel like a local for a half-hour.  I left this trip to Billa, {"common sense says Billa" !!} particularly ecstatic because with my 3 and a half words of German, my exchange with the cashier left no trace of English!  'Twas absolutely fabulous.

Our last morning in Vienna was spent at the Schönbrunn Palace.  But it was cold, very cold.  To be absolutely honest, I preferred looking through Austrian cookbooks in the heated souvenir shop than walking around the dead-looking-but-still-majestic gardens.

Quick internet stop back at the Doo Step, one last photo-op, and we jumped on the nicest train I think I've ever been on, taking me to Budapest.  

Sunday, March 14, 2010

orchestra concerts down the golden lane

Oh Prague.

Upon arrival at the airport, we were greeted by Katie, Isa's wonderful friend from Berkeley, and three half-liter bottles of Pilsner --- the local brew of the Czech Republic.  We followed our host back to her apartment, which might as well be a hotel - beautiful large rooms accented with lovely art nouveau touches, housing 8 American girls on their studies abroad.  After a little late night cereal and fruit we each resigned to a couch to prepare for the next day of touristing. 

In the morning we woke up to the happiest of sunshines and began our visit on foot.  The Praguian sun really was wonderful, following us on all of our Czech adventures, curving the sides of our lips upwards.  After a quick and tasty stop at Bohemia Bagel we entered Prague Castle, which sits majestically high on the horizon.  The domain is huge -- my favorite pauses were the St. Vitus Cathedral and the Golden Lane.  My visit to the Cathedral forced some contemplation - Chris and Isa were being audio guided while my lack of finances left me to gaze at the architecture and create stories of my own.  At one point my legs guided me to sit down on a ledge in front of one of the chapels, which led to some interesting encounters.


A large group of touring Italians walked by me (a phenomenon that we encountered in every city of the Hapsburg Triumvirate) and two of them paused to take my picture.  I smiled shyly as the flash went off.  They passed, a good 10 seconds went by, and they hurriedly came back, this time with one of them taking the picture as the other posed with me.  Cue them leaving, another 10 seconds, and another hurried return.  This time they switched places.  Keep in mind, until this point, no words had been spoken - just confused facial expressions and a few hand movements.  I finally asked where they were from and then asked for some pictures of my own - I thought it was only fair that I get a few too.  We said our final goodbyes, which ended with Roberto's assertion with his charming Italian accent that "Today, you are the symbol of this church" - not going to lie, it kind of made my day.  


Then we went to the Golden Lane, which became the golden lane to my heart.  It is on this magnificently cute street, lined with colored historical houses, that I fell in love with Mucha.  There was a hole-in-the-wall shop that was covered with his art --- posters, necklaces, lamps, notebooks, postcards --- everything Mucha and everything beautiful.  I browsed the postcards for approximately 37 minutes before choosing six that met my fancy.  I had previously met Mucha when one of my cousins told me that I could have been a model for him, so I was predisposed to love his stuff.  The color, the shapes, the designs - super inspiring and super great.


After the Prague Castle we made our way to the Old Town Square, via the statue lined Charles Bridge, crossing the Vltava {the river that cuts through Prague}.  On the way to the square, which houses the Astronomical Clock (!!), I was a bit culture shocked.  Persons lined the streets forcing their flyers on you, just as in Paris, however, these people are advertising not clubs nor political parties, but orchestra concerts, it's quite charming.  



We paused at a restaurant for a mid afternoon brew - a place where my Czech skills progressed.  Not only did I learn my favorite word na zdraví, or cheers, but I also fell in love with our Czech waiter.  One day I'll go back for him.


It's quite interesting walking around a city that was on the other side of the Iron Curtain.  Chris and Isa made me realize that when you look into the eyes of the older Czech people, you are looking into the soul of one who lived under Soviet communism.  You could definitely tell that Prague didn't have the same upbringing as Paris.  It's a beautiful city, covered with its spectacular green roofs.  It almost felt medieval, well, I don't really know what medieval feels like, but I'm pretty sure this was close.  Smoking is permitted indoors in Prague {as it is in the other Hapsburg capitals, as I learned later}, and that seems a bit ancient, and smoky.

The spectacular moment of our second day was our lovely gaze at the John Lennon wall.  There were some recent graffiti addings that rendered it a bit altered from the famous image I had in my mind, but I loved it all the same.  I even got to do a little graffiting of my own with "positive thoughts make positive things happen - ffg" - had to.  We also passed by the Love Bridge and marveled at the many locks engraved with lovers names.



Our trip in Prague was spotted with many delicious dishes and lots of Pilsner.  We kind of found "our" bar, a smoky establishment to which we returned twice, where we enjoyed a few pints.   Beware: they charge for the pretzels that top each bar table - those irresistables were 15 koruna each.  The exchange rate is about 27 to 1 - my mental math skills were definitely worked on. 



Our last shabang was Letna Park, where we watched the Praguian sun go down and the night lights go up.  We spent a good two hours on that hill, it has made its way into my spirit for life.


{photo credit to Isabella Snyder}
And then three little parisians awoke Wednesday morning to board a train to Vienna.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Emily from Yorkshire in the north of England

And I'm back.

The past 10 days have been a whirlwind of languages, currencies, and customs.  I will recount my adventures chunk by chunk -- a city per day -- in hope of not overwhelming the senses.

So, to begin: London.

The trip to the British capital didn't go without a few flukes :: we missed our first train (but didn't have to pay for the replacement, merci to the nice eurostar agent); we had a little trouble getting our lone American past strict British passport control; and my sleepyness decided to walk through security without putting my purse on the x-ray machine, instead keeping it on my shoulder {which kind of screams "I have a big bomb in here} but thankfully the guard just giggled at my obvious mistake and gave me a smile instead of a body slam.

However, once we got to the land of the Queen, everything went swimmingly.  I fell in love with this city.  The architecture is a mismatch of several different generational trends - as was seen from my view as I stood next to the Tate Modern, a converted oil-fired power station originally built in the 50s which now stand as the (free!) Contemporary Art Museum of London.  I looked out on the Thames River, across the super sleek Millennium Footbridge, built in 2000 (duh), with St. Paul's Cathedral, dating from the 17th century, in the background.

{photo credit to Isabella Snyder}

We visited the Westminster Abbey, the Gothic Church that stands as the burial place or commemoration lieu for many British extraordinaires - Geoffrey Chaucer, Charles Dickens, Charlotte Bronte, Charles Darwin, Newton, Jane Austen, and many many monarchs - you get the idea.  It is here that I had my audio guide revelation - audio guides, or more specifically free audio guides, are wonderful - they force you to pause and appreciate what's around you and give you fun anecdotal stories that breathe life into the places you've seen.

We also walked through St. James Park, gazed at Buckingham Palace, said hey to Big Ben, and participated in an impromptu photo shoot in a wonderfully-red Londonian telephone booth.

More important than any of the sights that blessed my eyes - was the food that blessed my taste buds.  J'adore pub food.  Sausage sandwiches, fish and chips, peas, Strongbow (British cider that we all went a little mad for) - it was beyond wonderful.

 {photo credit to Katie McCabe}

The first night was spent out on the town - I developed this thing where I would put on the most extraordinary British accent and introduce myself as "Emily, from Yorkshire, in the north of England" to far too many strangers.  Most chaps flattered me by insisting that I sounded authentic, others, not so much.  It was this night that I saw someone's credit card being stolen out of an ATM - the typical trick where one guy tells you that you dropped something and as you lean down to pick it up, his partner grabs your possession.  It was crazy actually seeing it happen, and in a rush of courage and adrenaline, I ran over to the thief - a stout middle-aged man who didn't speak English - and demanded that he give the lady, a most likely tipsy girl in her mid twenties, her card back.  I kept urging that he return it immediately as he went through his wallet, pulling out random cards, trying to prove that he had committed no crime.  After another 20 seconds or so of my demands, he ran off quickly, credit card in tow.  I guess I just don't have very good luck at ATMs.

I didn't let the money mishap ruin my night, which developed quite swelly --- from a chic cocktail bar, to the Roxy [a multi-personality club playing the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, and hits from the 00s!!], landing 5 slightly intoxicated students on floor cushions in what has been named the "Love Den" - the 8 x 12 dorm room of our wonderful hostess Katie, a friend of Isa's from Santa Barbara.

The second night was just as exciting, in a drastically different way - a Lady Gaga way.  We got to the O2 arena, greeted by thousands of superbly dressed fans: hair in bows, beads, 6 inch heels, sequins, color - just magnificent.  Although our nose-bleed seats made Lady G look like a little ant, a beautiful little ant she was.  The show took its audience on a wonderful journey to the Monster Ball, with Gaga pausing every now and then for a costume change or a convo with her little monsters, her endearing name for all of her fans.  She really is a sweet person --- while I fell in love with her music through youtube and deezer, I fell in love with her person in a British arena with 50 000 other people.

Our last day in Londontown was spent on the posh Oxford Street - a big change from the cutesy market shopping on Portobello Road {in Notting Hill!} that we took part in the day before - with a final pub pause at the "Lamb and Flag," sausage and Strongbow included.

{photo credit to Chris Servidio}

A semi-stressed train ride to Gatwick brought us to the airport that would bring me to a country, language, and currency that I had never experienced before - Prague.