Walking Picture

My apologizes for the lengthy amount of time between picture posts.  Life has been a little crazy with coming back from France and moving for the summer and all. I’ll keep it short, especially since I’ve included so many photos. I love London (huge surprise, right?). I’ve been to the city twice and it is such an interesting mix of old British royalty with modern business.  As one of the business centers of the world it is crazy modern but there is so, so much history there. Going to London felt a little like going home just cause of how international the city is and how much english I heard everywhere. Browse and enjoy!  Don’t forget you can click for larger photos!

So, Edinburgh. Just to give you a quick impression before the pictures, I really liked Edinburgh (shock, right?).  However, the weather was atrocious which made it hard to have the motivation to do a lot of exploring. We spent the first day wondering the city and then the second day seeing Loch Lomand and a little bit of the Highlands.  Edinburgh has this really cool sort of old, hipster vibe.  It feels a bit like the setting of some fantasy adventure story or a medieval dungeons and dragons (not like the game) movie. It’s easy to see where the inspiration for Harry Potter came from.  I loved the Scottish accents and the little snippets of the strong Scottish culture that I got to experience.  I’d love to go back at a warmer date and try to see and learn more about Scottish history and culture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is it, my last couple days in France, at least for now.  I’ve spent the past several days saying good-bye to things I’ve come to think of as everyday, like crepes, the markets, the coffee, each of my favorite little boulongeries…and so the list goes on.  Leaving Aix is a little bittersweet.  I’ll miss quite a few things about living in Europe, especially in Southern France with my amazing host family, but I would be lying to say I haven’t wanted to go home for a while now.  While my classes here were not overly taxing in pretty much any sense of the phrase, studying abroad is most certainly not the easiest thing I have ever done.  I thought I was prepared for almost anything after Thailand last summer, but that’s the thing about traveling: each experience is so different.  France has brought a whole new set of struggles and challenges that I’m glad to have been faced with, but now I’m ready to go home.

Unfortunately finals and life in general have not been conducive to putting up more pictures.  I still have a lot of stories and places to share that I promise will be up sometime in the near future.  I just wanted to share a little about saying good-bye to Provence, while it was actually happening.  Keep checking back for Scotland, London, and more Southern France pictures.

Until next time!

We got Easter Monday off in France so we decided to venture up to Paris.  Three of our group of four had already spent some quality time in Paris, and so we wanted to take it slow and see and do things that we hadn’t had a chance to do before.  My list included the Moulin Rouge, the inside of the Paris Opera, shopping, and cafe.  We got to do all of those things, plus the Orsay, the Louvre, the Orangerie (where Monet’s Lilies are), and a host of other things.  It was the strangest Easter I have ever had, just because I was traveling, but it was fun.

Paris is one of those cities that I could keep coming back to for the rest of my life and not get tired of.  It is definitely one of my favorite cities in the world.  Its romantic air charms me every time, and since this was my 4th time in Paris, I think I can safely say that my love of Paris is not just the first-time tourist infatuation. I love the architecture and the art and the sheer history of the place.  I’ve spent few sunny days in Paris, and there are always crowds and crowds of tourists, but I love the city just the same.

Hotel de Ville – or city hall – of Paris

There were a whole bunch of old costumes on display that have been used in former Opera productions.

Place Vendome – the column in the center was erected by Napoleon I

For our spring break, my good friend here Catherine and I decided to venture to the Republic of Ireland, Scotland, and London.  Ireland was my favorite because of the people and the beauty and well the everything.  We met my good friend from Grove City, Rachel, and a friend of hers, Lisa, in Galway, and spent the next day with them seeing the Cliffs of Moher, ancient monuments, and a Fairy Fort.  Catherine and I then traveled down to Dingle before heading out Monday for Scotland.

When I think of Ireland, I think of green, green fields with stone fences.  I think of a rugged, wild beauty that will never be completely tamable.  I think of a magical landscape full of stories of faires and leprechauns and haunting Irish ballads.  As our bus chased the sunset across Ireland, from Dublin to Galway, the countryside gradually began to swell into rolling green hillsides on the cusp of spring.  The sun was an orange ball of flame bursting through the clouds, smearing the sky with pastels.  My first glimpse of Irish countryside was breathtaking, and nothing to compare with what was to come.

I’m trying the pictures in a different format this time, so they’re all going to be big instead of in a gallery (but there are still captions!).  I hope my pictures captured a little of the mysterious beauty of Ireland.  If you’re interested in a little Irish music, check this out: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151580231484803

This is what we left when we flew out of Nice. Why did we leave you ask? Valid question at the time. -photo props to Catherine

At last, the long awaited Rome post.  Before I let you pursue the pictures, let me just give you my impression of Rome.  Rome is huge.  It is packed full of history and art and I think I had more mind-blown moments in Rome than in any other city thus far.  My mind was blown by the Sistine Chapel, St. Peter’s Square, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Roman Forum, and the Colosseum, all within a 48-hour period.  I was exhausted by the time we were done, and we didn’t even see half of what Rome has to offer.  Everywhere you go there are Roman ruins, old churches,  architectural wonders, and whispers of ages past.  Visiting Rome is literally a course on history.

I know there are a lot of pictures, but Rome has a lot to offer.  I’ve tried to walk you through all the big moments of my time in Rome, and to give you a little bit of an idea of what you’re looking at.  I hope you don’t get overwhelmed, and that you actually take the time to read the captions.  Enjoy Rome’s history.

You learn a lot about yourself when you travel for extended periods of time.  I would have to do some serious sitting, thinking, and listing to recount to you all the things, great and small, that France alone has shown me about myself.  One thing I’ve been mulling over recently is that there are a lot of things in my life in America that I love, and a few that touch my soul.  These are the things whose absence, or decrease, I have felt the most keenly here in France.  It’s funny how it’s often not until I am in their presence here, though, that I realize how much these things are a part of who I am.  This weekend I was reminded of the goodness and even sweetness of God as I discovered, or rediscovered two of those things.  To set the stage, it rained and was generally miserable here all Saturday afternoon.  Most of my friends in Aix were gone for the day, so it was just me and the rain (not good conditions for exploring), making life Saturday afternoon a bit sad.

Dancing is one of those things in my life that, without a doubt, both touches and expresses my soul.  I have been reminded of the huge drop of dancing time in my life on almost a daily basis in France, as I don’t have to be dancing to be reminded of how much it has become a part of me.  I am taking a beginner international ballroom class on salsa, cha cha cha, and rock (jive) with another IAU student, Desirae, which definitely helps, but it still isn’t quite the same.  Our instructor told us there would be a soiree this Saturday and one of our friends in the class, Samuel, offered to drive us.  Samuel only really speaks French though, and between the two of us Desirae speaks much better French.  Desirae was also not there last week, when Samuel and I coordinated him picking us up, meaning that we were crossing our fingers nothing got lost in translation.

Unfortunately the time did get slightly lost, but we were early, not late so it was all good.  Desirae and I had NO idea what to expect when we climbed in the car.  We were certain that the car ride was going to be mega-awkward because Samuel spoke minimal English and we spoke, well, less than perfect French.  However, our fears were soon assuaged as Samuel barraged us with questions, which we could in fact understand, about our majors, home states, and other such things.  After stopping for directions, we arrived at a small castle-turned-museum, which upped the cool factor of the evening 100 percent.  Sadly, I didn’t take a picture.

We were the first ones there and so got first pick of the refreshments.  There were apple, raspberry, and chocolate tarts, not to mention champagne.  Later, chocolate fondue was brought out, along with fruit and what appeared to be cream puffs.  On further tasting, we discovered that there was in fact ice cream inside the puffs, and which blew both of our American minds. Ice cream puffs!

As the other guests arrived, it quickly became evident that we were the youngest in the room.  No matter.  Since most of the other people came with partners, Desirae and I took turns dancing with Samuel.  When I wasn’t dancing, I was people-studying.  French people don’t smile a lot, which is another soul-touching thing for me.  There are not a lot of things that depress me more than walking around without seeing a single smile all afternoon.  It also blows my mind how people can not smile, even when they dance since whether or not I want to, 9 times out of 10 I tend to grin like an idiot when I dance…but I digress.  I spent the evening dancing rock, salsa, and cha cha cha, trying to teach Samuel waltz and tango, attempting French line dances, and free dancing with a crazy fun group of upper-middle-aged French people, Samuel, and Desirae.  The entire evening wasn’t just ballroom dance.  There were a couple of songs everyone (including the older French people) just free-styled.  At one point, Desirae and I started doing the Macarena and Samuel and our dance teacher quickly joined.  We got about 5 or so other French people to join us, and we kept it going for the remainder of the song.  Another time us three young people had our dance instructor come over to dance with us.  I started doing some disco moves and he got all excited.  I moved on to the burnie, which, after I showed my instructor, he half-sies tried to do.  He promptly made a pretend pained face and held his back to say he was too old for that move, which I found absolutely hilarious.

The night was amazing and we danced ourselves ragged.  I miss nights like that here.   I am so thankful for the unexpected, crazy fun evening.  There is almost nothing else that makes me feel more alive than dancing, and though I was exhausted when I got back, everything inside me was singing, and well, dancing.  God knew I needed that this weekend, even though I didn’t.

Another one of those soul-touching things for me is life.  By life, I mean green, growing things like grass.  I mean being around activity and interaction.  I mean just about everything positive life entails, and that was something I didn’t realize was such an important part of me until Sunday, when I was in its presence in a way I haven’t been since I’ve been in France.  Maybe this touched me so much because it reminded me of home, or maybe I just miss grass, I don’t know, but I do know that I walked away feeling over flowingly full and peaceful, and thanking God for the unexpected and unasked for gift.

I’d heard there was an excellent park for running a little ways out from Aix.  It was stunning outside Sunday so I decided to see if I could find it on a run.   I did not find it the way the directions said I should, but I finally wound up there, after exploring Aix’s cemetery (which I didn’t know existed).  As I entered the park, I berated myself for not finding it sooner.  I felt like I’d stepped into another world where nature existed, French families played, and there was grass.  You should know, before I continue, that there is NO grass in old Aix.  Everything is stone.  I followed the stream in the park until I came to a big grassy field full of people of all ages sunning themselves, chatting, laughing, and playing.   I don’t think I have seen so many smiles since I’ve come to France.  Everyone was smiling in this park.  I couldn’t believe it.  Mind blown.

I finished my run and followed the stream back.  I sat for a few minutes and listened to the bubbling of the water and all I could think about was that the park was so alive.  I went back to the meadow full of people and watched families and friends interact, just like they do in the U.S.  I stared at the grass for a while too.  There was just so much of it.  The whole place just felt so alive.  I miss that.  Now, I don’t mean to say that France sucks and French people are boring and cold and mean or some nonsense like that.  It is simply not true.  I just mean to say that I miss lying on the grass in the sun, and that I miss smiles, and that I was infected with just how alive the park felt.  It didn’t feel like I was in France anymore.   It felt like home.

So what did I learn about myself?  Nature and green growing things touch my soul.  Smiles touch my soul.  Being somewhere that feels alive touches my soul.  Dancing touches my soul.  Most of all, God knows what touches my soul.  After all, he created it.  Jesus says in Matthew 6 that “your Father knows what you need before you ask him,” and I have seen that to be true over and over.  I am overwhelmed by the goodness and the grace of God constantly here in France, especially in the moments when I feel like I deserve it the least.  When I feel utterly inadequate God reminds me he is good and he is enough for those moments.

3 weekends ago was field-trip -weekend.  On Friday we went to the Luberon (which you have already seen) and on Saturday my archeology class took a trip to Glanum and the city of Arles to look at old things.  You can see and educate yourself about the old things we saw below.  This past weekend I had another excursion to the city of Arles to look at pretty much the same stuff, so I decided to combine pictures from the 2.  If you’re wondering why some pictures are brilliantly sunny, while others look like the gloomiest day of your life, it’s because they were taken on two different days.  The pictures are organized by subject, not chronologically, so don’t get confused!

Arles is a really cool little city with a lot of history.  It’s quite pretty and you can see some of the Palette of Provence that I talked about in my last post as well.  Van Gogh also contributed to the fame of Arles by spending about a year here.  Glanum is a small town with spectacular Greek and Roman ruins, near Arles.  Don’t take my word for it though, check out the captions and pictures.

So 2 Fridays ago, my program here took us on an excursion into the heart of Provence, Le Luberon.  Our first stop was the village of Lourmarin, which besides being beautiful, is known for its 15th century chateau (castle).  We bought lunch at the market in Lourmarin, and then went to the village of Lacoste for a picnic on the spot where the castle of the Marquis de Sade used to stand.  In case you haven’t heard of him, he’s famous for being kind of insane, and for, as my professor said, being “fascinated with blood and backsides.”  Ever heard the word sadism?  It comes from him.

The last village we visited was Roussillon, where all the houses in the village are read and orange.  There is an old ocre quarry right next to the village where workers would extract the pigment from the soil to make paints and dyes.  The quarry is beautiful.  I’ve never seen such brilliant colors of soil. Everything is reds, oranges, yellows, and purples.  Even the trees in the quarry have an orange tint from the pigment.

I’m taking a myth and media of Provence class (Provence is the region of France where I’m studying) and almost everything I have learned about Provence, I saw during this excursion, from vineyards to olive tree groves, to the markets, to the colors.  Something my profesor has emphasized in class is the colors of Provence.  Oranges, yellows, light browns, reds, olive tree-green, tans, lavender, soft sky blue – these are the palette of Provence, with everything bathed in the warm, yellow sunlight.  Look for the colors in my pictures, and I think you’ll start to get a feel for what I’m talking about.

 

I decided to take a break from Italy to show you some more recent pictures from my life.  My family came to visit me a couple weeks ago during my sister’s spring break.  I loved showing them around Aix and introducing them to my French family.  I played tour guide and translator as I introduced them to the markets and to a more in depth version of French culture.  Well, I introduced my parents to a more in depth version of French culture.  My sister is a French major so she didn’t need introduced to anything. My family explored Aix and some surrounding towns while I was in class Monday-Thursday and then we went on some adventures Friday and Saturday.  It was such a blessing to have them visit and I missed them terribly when they left.  I don’t think I would mind as terribly moving somewhere far away if I could move my mom, dad, and sister someplace nearby.