Cue the Mission Impossible Theme Song

Yes, that music is quite called for.

I woke up at the crack of dawn to go to the BnF Francois Mitterand when they opened at 9 AM to try to get a seat.  The system online said there weren´t any left to reserve, but I thought I´d give it a try.  Seriously, the place is like Fort Knox.  You enter down a long ramp from the gargantuan (and gorgeous) plaza.  You have to go through a metal detector.  After that, you have to transfer your things to a clear plastic briefcase and check everything else.  Scan your card and enter the escalator room.  Go down escalators and scan again.  Here I inquired at the desk if there were any places available, and BEHOLD there were!  So I scan one more time and get to enter the main corridor of the reading rooms.  It´s basically one absolutely gigantic, multi-tiered rectangle connecting all four of the ¨open book¨ buildings of the BnF underground.  Seriously, the place is amazing: technologically equip, quiet, new, organized, and automated.  (Granted everything had a learning curve for me today)  You request all the materials you need online and they are brought out for you.  You can track their status online like a UPS package.  Today, I was going through 10 rolls (the daily limit) of microfilm of old newspapers to gauge the public response to the Maison Cubiste that I´m studying.  Another big learning curve for getting a copy card and working with the attendant to print off pages (since one cannot do it oneself).  Any HOLY COW are the copies expensive.  You have the choice between A4 (close to letter size) and A3 (close to 11x17 but wider).  35 euro cents for the former, and 45 for the latter (if my memory serves me right...plus or minus a few cents).  RIDICULOUS.  Also ridiculous, the change machine wasn´t working and there was no way I was putting 10 euros on my copy card, never to be seen again.  Had to ask random people for change.  Lovely.

I managed to figure out the process for recording a temporary exit so I could go get lunch.  I only have 3 days on my card and I have to make them count!  Good food.  This area of Paris is distinctly modern (but not La Défense) so there were a decent amount of food choices.

I decided to head out at 5 PM having reached my reserve limit and my mental limit.  Burning out, much?

Alas, after being in France for two weeks, the time has finally come to do laundry.  Found a laundromat close-ish to the apartment.  There was one closer but I, like the utterly cheap person I am, went bargain hunting.  That said, I shall try to NEVER complain about how much NU charges for washing machines again.  Try this: 3,50 euros for a small super-economical-i-dont-fill-with-water washing machine.  And for drying: 50 euro cents for every 7 minutes.  So I consolidated and managed to do the whole shabang for 5,50 euros.  Joy.

And later at the apartment I discovered that many of the journals I wanted to look at tomorrow at the BnF are available as PDFs on their website!  Totally didn´t realize/overlooked/didn´t have an account yet to access that.  That said, I should really be able to finish it all tomorrow.  Yay!

Also, Centre Pompidou tomorrow...wish me luck...

The Post Where I Stress and Whine A Lot

I was toying with the idea of writing no post at all today, but consistency is a virtue I guess.  Paris can't be sugar-coated all of the time; I've found it does have its rough patches.

So I decided to devote much of the day prepping for research.  I figured I'd register myself at the Bibliothèque Nationale de France (hereafter BnF) and the Bibliothèque Jacques Doucet (hereafter Doucet) to smooth things out for the rest of my trip.  I´d already filled out a pre-reg form for the BnF and the Doucet seemed to be easy enough, so I figured I´d give it a go today.

Before that, though, I attempted to find another historic (in terms of my thesis) building.  An original store, Parfums d´Orsay, designed by André Mare.  I wanted to get an idea of his actual erected works.  Google Maps confirmed that it still stood and was modified only slightly to accommodate the new tenant: Baccarat Crystal.  However, upon showing up, the building was undergoing a complete and total refacing and is now home to a low end handbag and goodies store.  No trace of the original left.  Epic fail.

I then headed over to the BnF to complete my registration.  A lady had emailed me back with quite detailed instructions I must have read over five times. I get to the office of registration and, low and behold, the person helping me out was the one that sent me the email.  She was none-too-pleased when I handed over my driver's license as my "carte d'identité".  Evidently, in France that doesn't count.  She was going to send me all the way back to get it but then took what I'm guessing was pity on me and said I could bring back my passport tomorrow and she could otherwise get me set up today.  The rest finished off smoothly, but all I have to say at this point is: THE BNF'S ORGANIZATIONAL SYSTEM AND RULES ARE ABSOLUTELY BEYOND CONFUSING TO ME.  It's really terrible.  They have two major buildings, very far apart.  I'm probably going to be mainly in the other one.  They close on Monday for two weeks, so I need to hurry and get done.  But the Arsenal library has the originals of some of the Microfilm I'm looking at and they don't close.  Oh, and there's also this "Insitute Nationale d'Histoire de l'Art" with its own swath of collections in the BnF...and I really don't know if I have the time to completely investigate them and use their resources.  Also, the iconic Salle des Lecteurs designed by Henri Labrouste was completely closed as the entire BnF is undergoing a massive renovation...further confusing the process I must add.

So I felt bad and went back to my apartment to regroup, get my passport, and figure out the duplicate call numbers for this Arsenal Library (which I haven't located just yet).

So I figured I'd try out the Doucet library, because how hard could a branch of the Sorbonne Library really be?

I got lost after coming out of the Métro station and it took me a good 10-15 minutes to find the Panthéon where the library is off of.  Ironically, I was RIGHT next to it the other day I noted the Bibliothèque Sainte-Genviève.  So I called up at a nondescript door and was let in.  I walk into a tiny research room (could only seat maybe 10) and inquired at the desk.  I did my research on their rather user-friendly catalogue and narrowed my research here down to two or three people, particularly the archive of Guillaume Apollinaire.  Sure registration won't be a problem, but French Copyright reared its terrible head again.  Remember when the Ardenne Abbey had to contact André Mare's heirs so I could view his stuff?  Yeah, well same rules apply.  Except this time, the library doesn't contact him for me, I have to do it myself.  I'm not trying to sound snobbish; I mean to sound insecure.  I absolutely suck at phone calls in French.  I can't remember if I blogged about it or not, but I had a nasty experience calling to get directions for the shuttle to Ardenne.  I prefer to do everything via email so I can properly write and translate what I mean to say, nuances and all.  But, of course, Guillaume Appolinaire's heir is only reachable by phone.  And I need to get written or emailed permission from him to view the materials...which is hard since I can't receive mail at my apartment and I'm banking on him probably not having an email either, else the library probably would have had it listed.  I'm seriously considering just foregoing the Doucet to focus my attention on the Centre Pompidou and BnF.  Now open to fielding suggestions from you.

Seriously though, this web of French copyright is ridiculous.  I can understand contacting the heirs for permission if things actually belong to them.  If they are materials privately owned by someone else and then deposited freely in an archive, why should the heirs of the original owner still have power over who sees it or not?  I get that idea for publishing rights and whatnot, but not for simple consultation for a university thesis.

Whatever...

So after that I had just enough time to see one museum: the Musée du Quai Branly, the brand-spanking new museum of ethnic art designed by Jean Nouvel.  Easily one of the most peculiar setups I've seen in a museum.  Very loose and flowing and completely clear glass cases which seems to disrupt and notion of exclusivity or narrative.  I found this very clever.  Also, really digging this whole "people between 18-25 EU residents get in for free thing" because most of the time they umbrella it out to ALL people 18-25.  So yup, free entry once again...I'm eternally grateful to France for that.

So I'm hitting the hay a little early tonight and am going to try to go to the BnF first thing to try to get one of the covet-able spots.  I could only reserve one for Thursday, but I might be able to sneak in if they have openings tomorrow.  Here's hoping tomorrow runs a little smoother than today's Rocky Road.  Sorry, I've totally had chocolate on the brain lately...cravings?

Of Beauty Shops and Rings

Started out this lovely Monday morning with a trip to the La Poste.  Had quite a bunch of postcards to send back to the states.  Funny how the lines there were just as long and slow as they are back home.  Some tendencies are clearly international.

I then checked out this Picard chain of stores I had heard of.  Their speciality?  Everything that is frozen food.  And quite good looking frozen food if I do say so myself.  I picked up a few odds and ends for a dinner to come.

I then hopped onto the Métro and went straight to the Trocadero to be about as touristy as I could be.  I´m also glad to report that the Navigo Découverte worked perfectly!  Time to use and abuse.  The Trocadero offers the best and most uninterrupted views of the Tour Eiffel...quintessential tourist shot.  I am happy.

I then went into the Museum of Architecture and Patrimony.  Because of what I´m guessing are my manners and my smoothness of speaking French, I was considered a student of the EU and let in for free!  The museum boasts architectural remnants off of just about every major church in the country of France from Chartres to Notre Dame in the center of the city.  Everything started to blend together after a while, but the real highlight was an original entire apartment from Le Corbusier´s Unité d´Habitation in Marseille.  Google away.  The whole thing was rebuilt in the gallery and you could walk through the entire interior; that was a real treat.  Although the question that kept popping into my head was: how and why did this stuff get here?  Most of these buildings are still standing.  Couldn´t find the answer to that conundrum anywhere...

By the time I got through this museum, I was starving.  Unfortunately, the sandwiches in the food court were short and 5 euros....I muttered to myself that I could so do better.  So I trotted down one of the radiating streets and, sure enough, found a patisserie with a huge tuna baguette sandwich for 3,50 euros.  Score.  Also, found the best place to sit and enjoy it: on the steps down from the Trocadero.  Calm, few people, and glorious views of the Tour Eiffel :)  After lunch, I walked under the Tour and took a peek at the menu of the illustrious Restaurant Jules Verne on the upper étage of the Tour.  165 euros for a full meal and 70 euro à la carte.  24 euro desserts.  INSANE.

Hopped on the Métro and took it to the Palais Royale, the site of the Salon D´Automne of 1912 that I´m studying.  Much to my disappointment, most of the building was under heavy renovation work.  However, while circumambulating the building, one giant fair door was open and I got a lovely view of the main exhibition hall.  Really breathtaking.  I parked on a bench across from the main entrance to contemplate and stuff and had a guy try to pull the gold ring con on me.  I don´t know the specifics, but they pretend to find a ring on the ground in front of you and offer it to you...I would assume for some sort of money...or pickpocketing...who knows...shook my head.  Fun fact: Aston Martin´s Paris dealership backs up to the Grand Palais...distractions

Hopped back on the Métro and attempted to find the original gallery space for the Salon de la Section D´Or, a Cubism exhibition that was running at the same time as the Salon D´Automne.  Mega unfortunately, the original space at 64 bis, rue de la Boétie has now become some sort of a high class beauty salon or school or something.

I hopped on the Métro still again to find the location of Daniel Henry-Kahnweiler´s gallery (gallerist to Picasso and Braques and arguably one of the most important facilitators of the history of Modern Art).  Along the way ran into the Fauchon store.  Decorated in black and pink à la Victoria´s Secret, but chocolate and delacacies galore.  Though the entire wall of fois gras was a little disturbing I couldn´t help but walk out with a bar of (fruity?) chocolate.  At 28, rue Vignon, the address of the gallery, I found the huge door open to a courtyard.  The elegant metal and glass portico off of one wall of the courtyard certainly had the air of what could have been the gallery, but alas, also has now become a beauty salon.  Trend?

I then trotted by the Bibliothèque Nationale de France where I hope to do research in the next couple days.  Along the way to the original Monoprix I found in my first few days (because the one by me only carries clothes, cosmetics, and cleaning supplies?) I got a tad bit lost...and ended up at the grand magasin of Au Printemps...rough life, right?  All looking, no buying as pretty much everything was out of my price range (still can´t quite see 1500 euros for a Lanvin sweater).  Yay Monoprix...got me some good foodstuffs for future dinners.  Tonight I made some tortellini with baquette bread and wine.

Most of the museums are closed on Monday, so I have quite a bit of catchup to do tomorrow!

Walk like a Parisian

Jam-packed day y´all!

I started out by checking out the surrounding area.  I´m off of the Les Gobelins stop where there are essentially 6 major roads coming out of a circle.  All have quite lovely, and what I would call not entirely touristy, selections.  I also inadvertedly stumbled upon the Rue Mouffetard that I had heard about.  Evidently, every day there is a street market with locally grown food.  I´m totally going back there for dinner one night!

I then sucked it up and went forth to conquer my fear: semi-permanent Métro passes.  I had a horrid time with one of the ticket-window ladies who would not help me out at all with the multitude of passes they had.  WELL...Matt did his research at home and figured out exactly what I needed: the Navigo Découverte.  I can load either a week or month onto the card and then get unlimited uses in the designated zones.  And it went off without a hitch!  You get a little pack with a hard plastic case holder, the smart chip Navigo card, and then an id card you affix a picture to and then sign and seal.  I´m like a legit Parisian now :)

I also went to the American Embassy (by which I mean McDonald´s because I was dying for unhealthy food).  Put your judgment away.  I can see it; it´s still there.  Seriously, put it away.  Ain´t nobody gonna stand between me and my Big Mac.  I´m a fan of France´s notion of meal size.  The burger and fries were the same, but a ¨normale¨ drink was the size of an American small...which is just right for me.  Rock on France.

After this, and since my Navigo doesn´t kick in until tomorrow (their week is Monday through Sunday) I decided to go on a far walking adventure.  I trotted up the Boulevard St. Michel and end up in the Jardin du Luxembourg and the accompagnying Palais, now the seat of the French Senate.  Absolutely lovely.  There were hoards of of French people out enjoying a Sunday afternoon on the grass...weird...reminds me of a painting or something...

I then trotted still farther north to the Panthéon.  Didn´t pay to go inside, but got to enjoy the freize we studied in 19th century art.  While looking at my map, it occured to me I was standing right in front of the Bibliothèque Saint-Genviève...one of the foremost in the city...hopefully I can take a peek inside at some point.

I also walked around the slightly-hard-to-pinpoint--because-it-takes-up-a-few-blocks Sorbonne, the flagship of the Université de Paris.  Uber construction going on so I couldn´t see much (and it certainly didn´t help that it was a Sunday during Summer).

I walked up still further to the church of St. Severin.  One of the Cubists I´m studying, Robert Delauney, did a whole series of paintings on the unique columns and corridors inside.  I love entering a space and feeling like I´ve been there before because I´ve seen a painting of or about it.  Had a similar feeling in the Gare St. Lazare thanks to Manet.

I ended up back at Notre-Dame and entered back in with the hoards of tourists.  After breaking slightly, I managed to find the fabled Shakespeare and Co. bookstore...one of the first and most famous English language bookstores in Paris.  Absolutely the coolest bookstore interior.  Couldn´t take photos inside, so that will just have to remain in my noggin.

Had dinner at a nice café not too far away from my apartment.  I had a croque jeune-homme, a bit of a play on the typical croque-monsieur.  toasted bread, with ham and melted cheese on top.  I have to say Parisian café culture is interesting.  Very lax, you sit down at any table you like, and most of the chairs face not each other, but out onto the road.  It´s as if the road is suddenly a stage for the spectators in the café.  Kind of turns the notion of peering in at restaurant-goers through a window on its head.

The weather is starting a gradual descent.  We crested 70 today, but not by much.  So I guess it´s going to be pants for the rest of my trip.  Not necessarily a bad thing.  Everyone else wears them.  On that note, French fashion.  Everything flies here.  Everything.  And to the websites that say only tourists wear shorts...not true.  I´ve seen plenty of shorts-clad dudes walking around, open their mouth, and eloquent French comes out.  And choices seem so random.  Honestly, I think some of them just put on the first things they find in the morning and work it no matter what.  Certainly a city of confidence...among many other things.

Walking like a Parisian isn´t about just a language or an article of clothing, it´s a state of mind.

Bernay: Best Day Ever

Sorry for not sending this update sooner.  I got in really late last night and there were tons of things to do.

Paris has its museums and its historic charm, but Bernay, somehow, still has that quintessentially old-world French feel.  I absolutely fell in love with the city.  The view from my window was incredible.  I was on the highest floor of the Hotel Lion D'Or and had an unobstructed view of the city's sprawling rooflines.  All the pictures I took really could capture that...

I started out by taking in the weekly market that filled the whole mile stretch of road in front of my hotel and one of the major squares.  It was like something out of a book/movie.   All of the local farmers had there crops on display.  An entire table of strawberries, lettuce, hams, sausages, cheeses...and one cart, though I have no idea what they were selling, had a baby goat that kept standing up and looking at people.  And like any good bazaar, there were a healthy number of people selling tacky clothes, gadgets, and leather goods clearly made nowhere near France if you catch my drift...

After taking that in, I headed over to the Musée des Beaux-Arts, the reason for my coming to Bernay on account of their André Mare collection.  I got chatting with the person at the receptionist who was very engaging in conversation; she even let me in for free!  Fortunately, the museum was completely worth the stop and was really useful to see some of the executed works I had heard about.  As I was about to leave, I approached the same lady to ask about the name of the curator in the museum to get extra info for my thesis advisor, and she hands me a book (and then a poster) as a completely free gift!!!!  That was worth nearly 30 euros combined!  I was completely speechless.  They even gave me a tour of the connected abbey which had a display of French chairs from the 15th century to today.  Amazing experience!

I then trotted around town taking in the scenery and whatnot.  Found a really great bike path on the south end of town and walked on that for a while (and until the rain became prohibitive).  And, of course, before leaving, I popped into one of patisseries on the main square and bought a little dessert...the name of it escapes me.  Pralines and custard like topping with cocoa powder on top.  The baker wrapped it up in quite possibly the most elaborate and cute pyramid of paper.  Pictures will soon follow on Facebook, I assure you.

Grabbed the train without a problem, very sad to leave though.  Navigated through Paris and met the person who's loaning me his apartment.  Surprisingly, much larger and much closer to the main road than I thought it would be.  Unfortunately, the night finished off kind of sour as, despite being told they would be present, there were no towels.  At all.  or soap.  So I had to make a 10:00 PM run to one of the only Monoprix's a mile away that was still open.  I would have done it on Sunday, but most stores are closed then.  I'm pretty sure I'm using a fuzzing industrial towel now...but it'll have to do until I can get something better.

So taking today to settle in and get to know the area...since Sundays tend to limit options!

Interlude: Bernay

I'm writing to you all from absolutely the cutest and most quentessentially French small town of Bernay!

I started out my last day at Ardenne.  Absolutely beautiful (Fall-like) weather.  I got access to all the letters I had hoped to see my last day.  The cosmic irony of that though was that the handwriting of some of the (more important) artists was so messy I could barely decipher 1 in 7 words.  womp womp.

And alas, it was time to go.  I do hate goodbyes...one can never find the right things to say.  I exchanged emails with a couple of the researchers I had come to know over the past 4 days.  Networking in French...it's how I roll :)

Train station went off without a hitch.  I'm really a fan of how people walk with their dogs into the train station with no leash or anything.  Beyond cute.  A shame I couldn't stay on my train longer...it terminated in Rouen.  So much Art History there.  So much Art History...

But Bernay is far more than a compromise.  It is so quaint, I LOVE IT!  I'd say there are about 7 major roads and then a network of tinier connecting ones.  Tiny, respectful shops and restaurants.  I found a French/Italian mix restaurant  for dinner.  Interesting spaghetti à la Paysane (carrots, spinich, ham, one raw egg?) BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT I looked at the drink menu and Art History stuck out at me!  Google "George Braque Suze".  One of the pivotal moments in collage was when Picasso and Braque puts things that weren't paint on their canvases, like newpaper and wallpaper.  At one point Braque put the label of a bottle of Suze alcohol on a canvas and drew the bottle around it.  Signifiers and all, you know?  But much to my surprise, for the very affordable price of 3,50 euros I could get Suze!!!!  Very interesting taste.  Starts out like the sweetest honey I've ever tasted and then has quite the aftertaste and bite.  Quite good cordial actually.

K...I'm teh uber sleepy and have a busy day of doing nothing and everything tomorrow.  Seriously though, Bernay: rock on.

"It's A Small World, After All"

It is in fact a small world becoming ever smaller. I had the pleasure of meeting one of the other lecteurs and his girlfriend who both were really quiet and kept to themselves. I thought nothing of it but today at lunch I heard the two not speaking French, but English! As if that isn't already a coincidence enough at this research library decidedly on the periphery in France, he is a PhD student at, get this, UChicago! Blew my mind; it absolutely blew my mind. Turns out he's been here for six weeks and offered some helpful hints for the library making
y sejour ever more productive. Awesomeeeee!

Also, the food here is so fresh and fancy. I'm pretty sure 90% of it is grown in the horticultural garden across from my lodging

not gonna lie, I was afraid I would go out of my mind here and hate it, but I'm actually going to be sad to go. I wasn't planning on making scholar friends while I was here!

Also, the tea here is simply sublime. Going to miss that most of all

oh and did I mention my French has gotten quite better? Woot :)

Ardenne: iPod Edition!

iPod edition indeed... Funny thing about the Easy Peasy operating system on my eeePc is thAt it hates connecting to WPA2 wifi connections. By some miracle it worked for yesterday. But alas miracles, like lightening never strike twice. Rest assured, I can get Internet fine in the study hall but not in my room. So this lovely and likely short post will be painstakingly pounded out on my iPod. Why am I using such big words then? Womp womp...

Great day. Got to finally handle the photographs I came halfway around the world to view. Was able to get a much better handle on the structure of the Maison Cubiste (oh yeah...for those that don't know my thesis is on Cubism and specifically the Maison Cubiste by Andre Mare who's archive is here and a group of his Cubist friends) and the ouevre of Mare

success

more materials to go through tomorrow. I may finish but I hope I don't!

Interesting dinner conversation. A whole new group of lecteurs today. A really nice and chatty guy was talking with me and another lady about the Quebecquois and other international things. I actually picked up quite a bit of it! Yeah!

K...my thumbs hurt from typing...A bientot all!

Intrepid Student Researcher: French Monk Edition

I'm hoping that this will come off as a slightly more well thought through post given yesterday's which was done in an annoyed haste. So this morning I left Caen via a shuttle and arrived on the outskirts of the city at the Ardenne Abbey.

I first must make the incredibly ignorant and stupid comment that is still a valid thought running through my head: no one speaks English here. For little American me who is ridiculously used to being able to speak English, I can now see how much I take it for granted. I really like to hold small talk with random people I don't know; I do it all the time back home. Here, however, I find myself becoming incredibly self-conscious in my inability to speak fluent French...or perfect at least a halfway decent accent. I'm sure I'm playing a typical worrying game, but in the company of like-minded university scholars it is beyond embarrassing to barely be able to describe what it is I'm doing. Let me correct myself, I have less trouble conveying what I'm doing than what I'm thinking about it...higher level vocabulary and construction. In addition, I imagine my verbal foibles probably raise the question, “and you're here to read French documents because....?” Fun fact: I read and write French pretty well. I should just carry around a white board all day.

The setup of the Ardenne Abbey is by far one of the most unique I have ever seen. It was built in 1121 and used before monasteries even came into vogue. During World War II, the Germans used it as an outpost and the Allies...um...well we bombed the living crud out of it. Fast forward to 2011, the Abbey has been partially restored and the site has been converted into l'Institut Mémoires de l'édition contemporaine, or as Google Translate (which has become my new best friend) tells me means The Institute of Contemporary Editions Memoires. Basically, it has become a research library à la DaVinci Code. You think I'm kidding? Google “IMEC Caen” and click around. It is brilliantly understated, yet grand, and totally awesome.

I settled in after a bit of a linguistic bumpy road. They have lodging on site and fortunately one of the other “lecteurs” (I'm a lecteur now) helped translate a couple of the more difficult concepts. Of course, my wee netbook wasn't having any of this WPA2 wi fi internet, but I fixed that after some tinkering. The thought of being trapped in my room at night with no internet was...and this probably speaks to some contemporary addictive trend...not acceptable.

I'm here for four days and have a decent amount of material to get through in that time. I'm trying to desperately transcribe and translate what appears to be an important letter but André Mare's handwriting is beyond the messiest I have ever seen...EVER.

All the meals here are communal among the 7 lecteurs. Guess who the only American is? I'm sure that this is going to help my conversational French in ways I couldn't have dreamed of. Will get back to you on that.

So basically I get to be a monk for the next few days. Not sure if anything eventful-ish will happen. Will get back to you on that also.

Off to the Countryside...

Well, Paris was fun for two days, but time to go to Caen in preparation for some hard-core archival research.

Trains, trains, trains. I started out on the Metro and managed to get to the Gare St-Lazare without too much issue. Finally managed to get one of the electronic machines to print my pre-bought ticket. Ah, but the track...there's the problem. Nowhere did anything make a mention of Caen except my ticket. I guess I was supposed to inexplicably know that Caen was the first stop on the 10:10 AM train to Cherbourg. Who knew?

I also don't get the whole idea of “composter” you ticket. It's essentially a time card-like stamp. I already have the ticket with my name on it, why does it have to be stamped. Had to run off the train to do that. And of course the seats follow some randomized inexplicable logic to me. And of course (#2) I had to be randomly assigned to the awkward four seats that face one another across a table. To both of their credit's, the teenage girl across from me was polite and quiet. I also was able to have a tiny conversation with the 80-year-old lady next to me. Score.

Also, observation. French people are SOOOOO POLITE AND QUIET on trains. No cell phones (save one that wasn't picked up) and really REALLY quiet sparse conversation. America, can you please learn from this?

The countryside was absolutely beautiful. Seriously, like every view out the window was a veritable postcard.

The temperature dropped off like no other. I've been dealing with temps flirting with the high 80s F and it was overcast, rainy, and mid 60s in Caen. Wooopeee; tourist weather, clearly.

The Orne River runs right through the city; amazing. Hotel is uber nice (and not that ridiculously expensive).

Found a few really old things to check out. A true Gothic Church in great shape. Ramparts, keeps, and churches...oh my. Also, the Musee des Beaux Arts...solid collection.

But dinner was a bit of a wipeout again. Turns out that nearly every cafe and restaurant closes at 7...which doesn't quite jive with my schedule yet. Will need to work on that so as to not eat Subway again.

So tired. Hence short quipiness of statements. Legs hurt from walking so much. Arms hurt from carrying my insane amounts of luggage around. Sleep must be had.

The Gift of Gab

I find it ironic that the previous three times when I was in France, I had difficulty finding people that would be willing to converse with poor, American me in English. Now, since I try to exclusively converse in French, people will often switch to English. I find this...pleasant. Although, I still try to maintain my French unless I truly hit a brick wall...hasn't happened yet.

That said, dinner was kind of a wreck. Staying in the “nice” area in Paris means that no cafe is reasonably priced. I love paying 4 euros for a Pepsi...damn my caffeine addiction. Some sort of a bagel/chicken/cheese concoction rang up to 12. Worst of all, the waiter couldn't understand a word of my French. I mean, he spoke English, but the realization that my accent was the French equivalent of Kim Jong Il in Team America: World Police is a little disheartening. Now I can't get the image of that puppet out of my head.

Backing up. The temptation was simply too great I caved and spent the majority of my day at the Louvre. My accent must not be that terrible (or...and maybe I'm crazy with this one...women seem to understand my accent better than guys? Go figure...) but I was able to talk my way into free admission. Internships: the gift that keep on giving. I've been to this museum four times and still haven't seen it all. So I resolved to see the entire museum during this trip: make no little plans? I think so.

After my feet started throbbing and I tripped over a bench like a total spaz, I had only seen maybe half of the museum...and that's after 5-6 hours. I'm nothing if not thorough. Although the number of tourists and tourist groups that I had to wade my way through slowed everything down. I was about to have an “art moment” with Ingre's Grande Odalisque when a group came swarming out of the two flanking doors and surrounded me, ruining my shot :( Seriously, it was like a bee attack, except with people...and no stinging.

I need to take the time to soapbox. I completely understand that the Louvre is a gigantic museum and, as such, will likely be understaffed at most times. They even periodically close swathes of galleries during the week to cope. But I really don't like it when visitors are blatantly violating rules right in front of them and they say nothing. There are more “No Flash Photography” image-based signs in that museum than there are Starbucks in NYC and yet people still don't get the picture (ha picture; I crack myself up). But this was also happening in front of one guard who appeared to want nothing more than to leave...and she said nothing. Flash is one thing, but touching is a whole other. The “DON'T TOUCH THE WORKS OF ART” signs keep equal paces with the “No Flash” ones. And I'm sorry, it's a museum and it is international common knowledge that you do not touch things in museums (or go back to childhood, “Don't touch that, it doesn't belong to you.”). One floating guard took the time to ask a guy my age to take his feet off a bench. Had she been in the gallery five minutes earlier, she would have witnessed a lady happily caressing Assyrian urns and statues one-by-one down the line. And yes, can't forget the British family that were lovingly hugging the Egyptian sculpture of what appeared to by Sekhmet. Or the man that felt the need to circle something multiple times with his finger on a Roman stele to make a point. That said, I guess it's smart that the Mona Lisa is behind bullet and flash proof glass...

But yes, Louvre. AMAZING. It was six hours of “OMG I STUDIED THAT IN CLASS!” So epic. I can't wait until I go back for round two.

After that, I just took to trotting. Eventually worked my way to Notre Dame and the Centre Pompidou. It finally occurred to me just how much of Paris closes up in August due to their annual vacations. Entire streets of shops are barred and grated promising to return at various dates at the end of the month. Womp womp.

The gift of gab...or maybe gab in the larger sense (or lack thereof) was definitely the dominating theme for the day.

OMGWTFBBQ?!

That title pretty much sums up my initial reaction to returning to France. Twas epic.

So the flight was...a flight.  Seemed shorter than usual and food was more terrible than usual.  Struck up a conversation with the person sitting next to me on the plane.  Turns out she's in the same college-student-travelling-to-Paris-for-school-stuff boat.  She had a couple French friends meet her at the airport.  Low and behold, I was able to strike up a semi-intelligent conversation in French with one who didn't speak English.  High point for the day.

Hotel is quite decent (sans price, but it makes up for that in location).  I can practically see the Louvre from my window.  The desk chair is so reminiscent of the one in Vincent Van Gogh's Bedroom...so fitting.  I'm only here for two nights, so pleasant accommodations during the get-used-to-French-time phase of the trip.

So I can't just get to Paris and just rot in my hotel, despite the large amount of jetlag (which is hitting me full force as I write this...imma go to bed at 6:30).  So I donned my NU t-shirt, white shorts, Chucks, messenger bag, and token camera and started trotting around.  I couldn't look anymore like a tourist if I tried...and for some reason it's beginning to bother me less and less.

I was attempting to find the Bibliotheque Nationale as I'm going to be researching there later, but kinda botched my direction.  I went by a very convincing fake Armani and Versace store.  They would have had me if it weren't for the matching price tags in the window from both.  And besides, since when do they advertise prices?  Isn't that the dirty little secret?

Despite it being August when the entire city of Paris goes on vacation, the tourists at the Louvre clearly didn't get the memo (notes hypocrisy of own statement).  And yes, I did have a quasi-religious moment walking around the Louvre courtyard like I do.  So I'm le-tired and the line at the Louvre is le-long so I headed to the Museum of Decorative Arts ever so conveniently jutting off of the north wing of the Louvre.  Solid collection.  And it relates to my thesis...interesting to see what these Cubist artists were reacting to.

After that, I did more trotting (now fighting the extreme urge to fall prone to narcolepsy).  Made a mental note of the McDonald's nearest to my hotel as super fail backup dinner...if I even eat dinner tonite.  Caught an epic glimpse of the Opera Garnier...beaucoup d'or.

Ah Monoprix.  It's like Whole Foods meets Trader Joe's with Walmart's prices.  Bliss.  Got my 6-pack of Coke (I'm an addict, I know), huge bottle  of water, bread roll, and my first bottle of French wine: a Riesling from Alsace.  All that for 7,60 euros.  Life is good.

Also, I saw an American Apparel on my walk back.  Sigh *facepalm

Ok, my body is going into emergency shutdown...later y'all

Day 1 (Friday, August 19th): Gotta start somewhere

Heyo All,

[Insert witty, yet meaningful comment about how this is the first blog I’ve ever kept and will serve as my primary source of contact with the outside world for my three week trip]

If the world were not so inundated with blogs, this blog would more properly be titled "An American in Paris" but hey...what are you going to do?

So this blog will likely be a crazy, free-form, slightly nonsensical, rambling stream of consciousness…but you knew that already, didn't you?

Some back story:

I’m beginning to write my Senior Honors Thesis in Art History which I’ll eventually wrap up in April 2012.  By a stroke of unexpected luck, I secured a Weinberg College of Arts and Sciences Summer Research Grant.  This three grand is enabling me to get to France and complete critical on-site research.  I guess one could call the “having a kick ass time in a foreign country for three weeks” a pleasant side effect of said research.

So by the time this post goes up, I’ll be in route to O’Hare.  Eight and a half glorious hours of flying time nonstop (thank God) to Paris.  Long live United Airlines.  And I probably sold a bit of my soul when I forked over the extra 79 bucks for an Economy Plus seat  (OOOOH FIVE EXTRA INCHES OF LEGROOM!)  To my credit, no other economy seats were available….extortion?

Well that’s pretty much the short and sweet intro.  I’m going to try to update this blog on some sort of a regular (daily?) basis.  It will hopefully be replete with pictures, anecdotes, and hopefully stories of good food.  I do hope I find good food (*crosses fingers).

A bientôt!