tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62613124035412941372024-03-13T03:33:03.485-04:00La Vie Est Ailleurs"Throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
-Mark Twain
Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-88619165332512814222014-09-16T13:30:00.000-04:002014-09-16T13:30:44.191-04:00Reflections <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Boats along the Seine in Paris</span></td></tr>
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It's been about 3 months since I left France and returned to the US, giving me a bit of time to reflect on my experiences as I readjusted to my old way of life. While it might sound strange, after having lived abroad for 9 straight months, you actually undergo a sort of reverse culture shock when you come home. You'd think that it would be rather easy to just slide back into your old routine, but you just spent 3/4 of a year getting really good at adapting to life elsewhere, and now you get to forget all that and transition back into your home culture. </div>
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Basically everything changes...</div>
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1. My primary language shifted from French back to English. While you might think that this would be a relief, I spent about 2 weeks searching for specific English words to use in conversation when my French words would be the first to come to mind. My friends and family would find it humorous most of the time (myself included!), but it could be frustrating knowing I had the means to express what I wanted to say yet it would mean nothing to the people I was conversing with...which is basically the same problem I had when I first returned to France, yet in opposite languages. For example, I was trying to explain the beauty of Paris' many parks and gardens to my friends from back home, and ended up saying "Paris has such beautiful <i>jardins"</i> (French for 'garden', but in this instance I said "jarred-ins"...whoops!). While this isn't a huge problem and ultimately doesn't last for long, it's still a strange feeling to have to search for your words in your mother tongue! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">A cool marble hallway in Versailles</span></td></tr>
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2. Social cues are different here. After having perfected the art of avoiding eye contact with strangers (lest you care to be constantly cat-called in the street), upon returning to the US I realized just how friendly Americans are, always offering a friendly smile and greeting even to those they don't know. While this is just one of a myriad of examples, basically the way you go about handling many of the social situations you'd encounter over the course of a day is quite different between our two countries.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rooftops in the village of St-Emilion</span></td></tr>
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3. Food and drink. Most days in France I wouldn't start cooking dinner til 7pm or later and finally sit down to eat a leisurely meal around 8, and back at home we eat quite regularly at 5:30. And boy, do I miss my French wine! There's no such thing as a $3 bottle of delicious wine back here at home, and it certainly isn't acceptable to drink it all throughout the day (especially on your lunch break at work) like it is in France...America has some catching up to do in that department!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">A delicious tower of <i>macarons</i></span></td></tr>
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4. Things are open on Sunday! While Sundays in France (and most of Europe, for that matter) are truly days of rest - as nothing is open! - the US treats Sundays like any other day of the week. You can get your grocery shopping done, buy some clothes, and even might have to work on Sundays here. Gone are the days of lazing around the house and strolling through the park, we've got things to do on Sundays.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Strolling through Place des Quinconces in Bordeaux</span></td></tr>
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5. The US leads <i>such</i> a sedentary lifestyle. As I didn't have the luxury of having a car of my own in France, I spent lots of time walking to get my errands done. Need a few things at the grocery store? You'll be walking. Going to the movies? Better get walking. How bout picking up some stamps at the post office? Lace up those sneakers. Got a week's worth of laundry to do? Have fun hefting your laundry basket into town! That being said, I definitely got in shape by getting everywhere on foot, but I sure do appreciate having my car at home, especially when the weather forecast isn't favorable. In Forbach, I lived real close to the town center and most of the things I needed were all clustered together, whereas in Westfield I would surely have to walk for hours to get all my errands done as cities in the US are much more spaced out.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Jardin du Luxembourg in Paris</span></td></tr>
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6. The French work to live, while Americans live to work. (This was probably one of the hardest things to go back to!) In France, the work week consists of a mere 35 hours, and full-time workers are guaranteed <i>at least</i> five weeks paid vacation. My job was only part time (12 hours per week) and I enjoyed 8 weeks of paid vacation time. That means I worked an average of only about 36 hours per month...crazy, huh? Back at home, I had to kick it into serious overdrive. Here, I work 2 part-time jobs, putting in about 25 hours per week working customer service at a grocery store, and then waitressing for around 12 hours on the weekends. So basically I work as much in one week as I did in an entire month while living in France. The French really know how to enjoy the finer things in life, and it'd be nice if we had some more time in our week here in the US to do the same! <br />
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Obviously, I could spend all day expanding this list, but these are just a handful of the larger cultural adjustments I've faced! Travelling in general is really eye-opening as it not only gives you first-hand insight into other cultures, but gives you a chance to reflect upon your own culture as well. Sometimes you see things done in another country and wish that it was like that at home too, and other times you decide that you prefer how things are done where you're from. The best advice I could give anyone is to simply keep an open mind. Different things aren't necessarily bad things, and you'll never know what you might be missing out on unless you go out on a limb and try something new. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Place de l'Hôtel de Ville in Paris</span></td></tr>
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With all that being said, you're probably wondering what my overall impressions were regarding my 9 months abroad... <br />
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Did I like living in France? You bet! I can wholeheartedly say France is my "home-away-from-home," a land with a beautiful language, chock full of culture and gastronomic pleasures. Day-to-day nuisances aside, I'd move back there in a heartbeat.<br />
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Did I like my job? Some days were better than others, but I went into the job knowing I didn't want to be a teacher for the long-term, and came out of the job feeling the same way. That being said, my job afforded me opportunities to meet and work with a variety of new people, gave me a free place to live, and paid me enough to do some serious travelling. Let's say it was a means to an end!<br />
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Would I do it again? The jury's still out on this one. I ended up with a pretty sweet set-up, getting a fully-furnished apartment in a town with a train station (a.k.a. a way to get out!). Some people I met weren't so lucky, struggling to find a place to live and then paying through the nose to afford to stay there, or essentially being stuck in a tiny village with no easy way to travel from it. I'll be eligible to re-apply for the program again next year, but unsure as to if I actually would want to take that all on again.<br />
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All in all, it was a whirlwind 9 months of working, travelling, meeting new people and making lots of new discoveries - and I wouldn't trade it for a thing! Time will only tell where the wind will take me next...<i>car la vie est ailleurs</i>!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of Musée d'Orsay's giant clock windows</span></td></tr>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com4Westfield, MA, USA42.1250929 -72.7495380000000341.936707399999996 -73.072261500000025 42.3134784 -72.426814500000035tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-43950359405291090502014-05-20T18:26:00.000-04:002014-05-20T18:26:29.891-04:00Westfieldians in Paris and Beyond!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Mes amies et la Tour Eiffel!</i></span></td></tr>
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After a brief blogging hiatus, I can now report that I successfully made it back to the US (with all my bags, too!). It's definitely bizarre trying to settle back in to life in a different country, culture and language - but I'm surviving! More on that at a later time...but for now, a recap of my final week in France!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One last night enjoying the city glow from my old bedroom in Paris</span></td></tr>
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I wrapped up my teaching experience on a Friday, spent Saturday packing my life away back into 3 suitcases, and then headed up to Paris for one last hurrah on Sunday morning. After meeting up with Kasey for a delicious late lunch at Café Jade in the ritzy Saint-Germain-des-Prés neighborhood, I jetted off to the other side of town back to my old home in the 20e <i>arrondissement</i>. My host parents Béatrix and Quentin had invited me over for dinner and drinks "as a family" one last time before I returned to the US. I always love going over there to spend time with them - and each time it feels as if I never left them 2 whole years ago, for we can just pick right up where we left off the last time we saw each other. I was delighted to have had the opportunity to see them a handful of times during the past 8 months and truly value their support and friendship - they were always there to offer me a kind word, delicious meal, and comfy place to sleep whenever I happened to be passing through. Knowing that was going to be the last time I'd see them for quite some time made me rather nostalgic and led to a teary-eyed <i>à la prochaine </i>("see you next time").</div>
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I couldn't stay sad for too long, though, because the next day Lisa and Sam, my two friends from back in Westfield, were coming to visit! Like a kid anxiously waiting to open presents on Christmas morning, I watched the clock tick by until it was time to go pick them up downtown. After having been away from my friends and loved ones for so long, it was so nice to see their smiling faces as they stepped, luggage-laden, off the train from the airport. We packed into the metro and headed over to the studio apartment we had rented in the 13th <i>arrondissement</i> to drop off all our bags before hitting the town.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_mHD_omgXW_LOahF4eL3p91UVc1wADA4oqI2SX4tMQTvauaXD1exFBF3hInTF6w-JJUjski5cLyev9NMPpwAkRnfwTQrkzzcbEMIZ5DtIW-fyivAh_hP9oxpGew3DsKUWrZkaQX8RKo/s1600/DSCN3959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_mHD_omgXW_LOahF4eL3p91UVc1wADA4oqI2SX4tMQTvauaXD1exFBF3hInTF6w-JJUjski5cLyev9NMPpwAkRnfwTQrkzzcbEMIZ5DtIW-fyivAh_hP9oxpGew3DsKUWrZkaQX8RKo/s1600/DSCN3959.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Spring is in full-bloom in Paris</span></td></tr>
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After such a long flight, Sam and Lisa wanted to stretch their legs a bit and take advantage of the sunny weather, so we made our way back into the heart of the city for a stroll around Notre-Dame. I enjoyed watching their looks of awe as they took in the beauty of the church and its surrounding gardens and thought back to my own amazement during my first trip to Paris!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXa35faubcrGxzjudnZZAG1AAVWD_3DUIUOpuE2EA4SxX4ePd9EJH57I9wU55phe19TUg42T8pdM4RZBMkF8leSUn5wt5rtAuskt2CLompkyo-oEdlwZA69DvNA0Tl-nChDALCTEfSkA/s1600/DSCN3960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXa35faubcrGxzjudnZZAG1AAVWD_3DUIUOpuE2EA4SxX4ePd9EJH57I9wU55phe19TUg42T8pdM4RZBMkF8leSUn5wt5rtAuskt2CLompkyo-oEdlwZA69DvNA0Tl-nChDALCTEfSkA/s1600/DSCN3960.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Notre-Dame and her gardens</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGO9O3sysSr9Iwg2rfW4ywFMXVJn84DCmyNxoWPkOxdBIancNrytIpL4Dre79juxswazl3XhvtEiomIYA6h2gxmLzu6EXOGBdvUtjZDy4vbBDXQwxqF9-s9P2EYW_EejI5tHQ383_ruxs/s1600/1975172_10152809396122388_3714497215278432591_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGO9O3sysSr9Iwg2rfW4ywFMXVJn84DCmyNxoWPkOxdBIancNrytIpL4Dre79juxswazl3XhvtEiomIYA6h2gxmLzu6EXOGBdvUtjZDy4vbBDXQwxqF9-s9P2EYW_EejI5tHQ383_ruxs/s1600/1975172_10152809396122388_3714497215278432591_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">:)</span></td></tr>
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What better way to end a stroll than with Happy Hour(s)? Since it was that time of day, we took the metro over to Place de la Bastille where we enjoyed some conversation and a couple half-price cocktails in the sunshine. We decided to sit outside so we could people-watch, and I had to laugh when Lisa and Sam couldn't get over all the cigarette smoke! Yes, people smoke in the US, but the amount of people smoking in France seems ten-fold. I guess I've gotten used to being in a cloud of smoke no matter where I go, but now that I'm back home I can definitely say I've missed the clean air!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQnnv7EFzu5clt7gaIPzJoDQACP1C7LrwEFXu8aTP43dsWKe6HZuENU4hZekoiz4E9sYmz1Lwanlzh5qQrxi6rSVGdXlqs35McqX1-3jMUhib2EvhITBiz9KIuc8IZSxx2Tiw8VhrpDDQ/s1600/DSCN3962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQnnv7EFzu5clt7gaIPzJoDQACP1C7LrwEFXu8aTP43dsWKe6HZuENU4hZekoiz4E9sYmz1Lwanlzh5qQrxi6rSVGdXlqs35McqX1-3jMUhib2EvhITBiz9KIuc8IZSxx2Tiw8VhrpDDQ/s1600/DSCN3962.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy Hour at Indiana Bar</span></td></tr>
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We grabbed a prix-fixe dinner on Rue Mouffetard, a cool restaurant and bar-lined street near my old university, so they could try out a few French specialties without breaking the bank (I had <i>escargots</i>, <i>confit de canard</i> and <i>crème brûlée -</i> <i>quelle surprise</i>!), and then it was time to call it a night - we needed to rest up for the rest of the week!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYYNeM54ON2cff4Mgk7f-bmHA9oFk0OQRaXVqIAqa1TofRHgNbvR4lxNPWEe1WwWGpnpaKxPjhQ0gKnT5zGVFW65KGM1EGDrD_xWGVbD8GUJSG9gRB2jBRnOuvDh7cDS5cHtufZI-VQk/s1600/2014-04-29+13.02.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYYNeM54ON2cff4Mgk7f-bmHA9oFk0OQRaXVqIAqa1TofRHgNbvR4lxNPWEe1WwWGpnpaKxPjhQ0gKnT5zGVFW65KGM1EGDrD_xWGVbD8GUJSG9gRB2jBRnOuvDh7cDS5cHtufZI-VQk/s1600/2014-04-29+13.02.25.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">BOO!</span></td></tr>
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We wanted to make it a pretty stress-free week, so we made a list of 2 or 3 things we wanted to do each day and then worked in other stuff as we saw fit. First up for day two: the catacombs! I had already been a handful to times (most recently when my parents came to visit in March), but it's always a cool place to visit. Despite the nearly 2 hour wait to enter, Lisa and Sam were really impressed by it all and thought it was definitely worth the wait!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFuT_5X-FlAk6v44L3_Osm_hyphenhypheniZMA15PBTP4b6dyTVNGcJKfer-wWx9ytvmGY_lt8i-h3VD3ito1LV1839N1LdfVJrauaec9PfQ9gHjs7KMjFkFimEf4DKydHcRn3-mOJYxRnzy_1BYS0/s1600/DSCN3963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFuT_5X-FlAk6v44L3_Osm_hyphenhypheniZMA15PBTP4b6dyTVNGcJKfer-wWx9ytvmGY_lt8i-h3VD3ito1LV1839N1LdfVJrauaec9PfQ9gHjs7KMjFkFimEf4DKydHcRn3-mOJYxRnzy_1BYS0/s1600/DSCN3963.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Falafel from L'As du Falafel in the Marais</span></td></tr>
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By the time we were done wandering through the catacombs our stomachs were grumbling, so I decided to introduce my visitors to the delicious gastronomic creation that is falafel. To find the best falafel in Paris, you have to head off the beaten path and venture into Le Marais, the city's Jewish neighborhood. For 6 Euro, you get quite the overstuffed pita full of falafel (deep-fried mashed chick pea balls), roasted eggplant, tomatoes, pickled cabbage, hummus, yogurt sauce and a little bit of spicy sauce thrown on top. <i>Miam miam!</i> For dessert, we went back out onto the main drag, Rue de Rivoli, and snagged some <i>macarons</i> from a chocolate shop. Available in basically any mouth-watering flavor, <i>macarons</i> are delicate French meringue-like sandwich cookies with an almond flour base. We picked up a variety including bergamot, salted butter caramel, pistachio, coconut, coffee, and passion fruit with basil - a delicious way to round out our French street-food lunch!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAvkwyJSSTXgfbn-pTbIkahHUB01JFNLkLgGeCzQZxoxacOlWRJ36IHAujVPpCLGgt1jEWxUnRSb4xjRoNXei0FqKy-iMxLhTSd236Uy1G03E5fget33hyfDUmsAT5IfNy6BWt4oCz-s/s1600/10255610_10152809397572388_6383082438373427647_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAvkwyJSSTXgfbn-pTbIkahHUB01JFNLkLgGeCzQZxoxacOlWRJ36IHAujVPpCLGgt1jEWxUnRSb4xjRoNXei0FqKy-iMxLhTSd236Uy1G03E5fget33hyfDUmsAT5IfNy6BWt4oCz-s/s1600/10255610_10152809397572388_6383082438373427647_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our <i>macarons</i></span></td></tr>
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Ready for more sight-seeing, we continued down Rue de Rivoli to the Louvre and the Jardins des Tuileries to snap some photos - the museum is closed every Tuesday, but was on our radar for later in the week. Meandering through the gardens we wound up at Place de la Concorde and after a pause for some pictures we headed up the infamous Champs-Élysées. There was much ooh-ing and aah-ing over all the designer shops, but alas, we were too poor to enter! At least we were able to get a few good pictures by L'Arc de Triomphe before the rain began.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0myGEI1B_EmqsGYeWGUzq4KnQ0wZXbcRnGGAmYN_Ps0jLab8_pt0ssr1VhumxN8jPpmv5UFaM6r0fpkH8GOAljYxYB1qTwUPkCWl5lDZFlLSQSz3XYr8ggBY0r-PoOV3nBHe-pOBpDk/s1600/DSCN3964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0myGEI1B_EmqsGYeWGUzq4KnQ0wZXbcRnGGAmYN_Ps0jLab8_pt0ssr1VhumxN8jPpmv5UFaM6r0fpkH8GOAljYxYB1qTwUPkCWl5lDZFlLSQSz3XYr8ggBY0r-PoOV3nBHe-pOBpDk/s1600/DSCN3964.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the Jardin des Tuileries</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcI7umNvpoGzZLKcKzRaZiwlLInhQOFf68znrKzqEZDCMq-H3zeaQvuvXne1NLVGqasj8GjPb-_V-ofi9uNm7OGJekhzvExSyASpwUGAPDXBqbYa7zoldThHJjUeV5iI5EH2KWpSuI0I8/s1600/2014-04-29+16.47.43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcI7umNvpoGzZLKcKzRaZiwlLInhQOFf68znrKzqEZDCMq-H3zeaQvuvXne1NLVGqasj8GjPb-_V-ofi9uNm7OGJekhzvExSyASpwUGAPDXBqbYa7zoldThHJjUeV5iI5EH2KWpSuI0I8/s1600/2014-04-29+16.47.43.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Selfie at the Arc de Triomphe</span></td></tr>
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<div>
We had to pass by Place du Trocad<span style="text-align: justify;">é</span>ro on our way back to our apartment, so we jumped off the metro at this stop to get a good look at the Eiffel Tower, with plans to revisit it later on during the week.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLU_gbY5MH3a-8wMNF4OeKwoMrAzBJInwlk7H8F1n-O5L69hN6iFqA2zZ8qdTpWtCz4e5jbn1Mt4XHkbcG2Xofw-BA-0s-JFqy6VYji8z1Ka1LMKaN3IkGEhU-EQiotm7DhEddcHvLu3I/s1600/DSCN3966.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLU_gbY5MH3a-8wMNF4OeKwoMrAzBJInwlk7H8F1n-O5L69hN6iFqA2zZ8qdTpWtCz4e5jbn1Mt4XHkbcG2Xofw-BA-0s-JFqy6VYji8z1Ka1LMKaN3IkGEhU-EQiotm7DhEddcHvLu3I/s1600/DSCN3966.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lisa and her umbrella, artfully posing</span></td></tr>
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<div>
By this point, the rain was really coming down, so we decided we'd take a wine and cheese break back at our place before venturing out again for the rest of the night.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxVOFqVL9E-Zk6w99f4k89jcKgwMgKuU5tfWeH202E_1QQOyx5X32CuzxpH5CK1G0IWZhwJn4LYU1DNAXkoNN-A6cBcpjz_94VCnXx98F7AuFVOnwfTDY_AWLM2bW10eKsnsPaP2E5rQ/s1600/10155227_10152809398797388_6115272212317066926_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxVOFqVL9E-Zk6w99f4k89jcKgwMgKuU5tfWeH202E_1QQOyx5X32CuzxpH5CK1G0IWZhwJn4LYU1DNAXkoNN-A6cBcpjz_94VCnXx98F7AuFVOnwfTDY_AWLM2bW10eKsnsPaP2E5rQ/s1600/10155227_10152809398797388_6115272212317066926_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I had lots of time to perfect my <i>tire-bouchon </i>(corkscrew) skills!</span></td></tr>
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We rounded out our evening with a soggy voyage back to the center of the city and settled on a restaurant in the touristy St-Michel neighborhood. While I've gotten used to it by now, Sam and Lisa couldn't get over how late everyone eats here in France - it was nearly 9:30pm by the time we ordered our food! Feet wet and bellies full of French cuisine, we trudged back to our apartment for the night.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28te-VkwMv65AYHykZ3l564b_JJVaKlcLYvGcfGDuXAaNkzY8C_VZkVKGXVkOyTw5bQ0A8jM2oqnkVW611WL6pV4wUFseEAE9l9CE9WxvgAQX_6M62jtzvBtZFAKlK2rMScD0oJQzQuw/s1600/2014-04-30+14.00.55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28te-VkwMv65AYHykZ3l564b_JJVaKlcLYvGcfGDuXAaNkzY8C_VZkVKGXVkOyTw5bQ0A8jM2oqnkVW611WL6pV4wUFseEAE9l9CE9WxvgAQX_6M62jtzvBtZFAKlK2rMScD0oJQzQuw/s1600/2014-04-30+14.00.55.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Outside Le Château de Versailles</span></td></tr>
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Taking advantage of the warm, non-rainy weather the next morning, we hopped an early train to Versailles, about 30 minutes outside the city, to visit the palace and extensive gardens. The current palace was built during the 17th century under Louis XIV and stands as a testament to his reign as an absolute monarch - no expense was spared! I'd definitely say that anyone visiting Paris with half a day to spare should absolutely check out this amazing former royal residence - 6 visits later, its opulent grandeur still gets me every time! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofFizXC9hWjQ_xvcec8HXJg42lNY0y_UBD3MtRPgKr-sjU3EXfx-sddCcmBEPDQTQ84MtAZN-n-2QdKh31DxHX3_o5oatfTTnLU_IbPX3CFp2CRM8bXaiVd-9z9TnUnIwTM4RDACGK7g/s1600/2014-04-30+12.16.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofFizXC9hWjQ_xvcec8HXJg42lNY0y_UBD3MtRPgKr-sjU3EXfx-sddCcmBEPDQTQ84MtAZN-n-2QdKh31DxHX3_o5oatfTTnLU_IbPX3CFp2CRM8bXaiVd-9z9TnUnIwTM4RDACGK7g/s1600/2014-04-30+12.16.31.jpg" height="166" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Palace of Versailles, as seen from the garden side of the property</span></td></tr>
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After waiting a while to buy Sam and Lisa's tickets (anyone holding a long-term visa can enter for free - you don't even have to wait in line for a ticket, just head straight to security, flash your passport, <i>et voilà</i>!), we decided it would be wisest to stroll through the gardens while it was still sunny and then see the interior of the palace later in the day once it clouded up. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcdfLHBXVfmP3wDcbQuQ6oW09lObJXqBkXTQSJWeDoumsyu6ZxQLxbjxW48H9H994-yBVF0iuQfUadkrB4fZGCw3WGipcbluoDs_r9LLU1bOmpp8TtSHm13KU90SCKbw5yY6P6ifZ8Bpk/s1600/DSCN3973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcdfLHBXVfmP3wDcbQuQ6oW09lObJXqBkXTQSJWeDoumsyu6ZxQLxbjxW48H9H994-yBVF0iuQfUadkrB4fZGCw3WGipcbluoDs_r9LLU1bOmpp8TtSHm13KU90SCKbw5yY6P6ifZ8Bpk/s1600/DSCN3973.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Le Bassin d'Apollon</i>, Apollo's Basin</td></tr>
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GoogleMaps has used their impressive StreetView technology to photograph the palace and its environs so you can take a virtual tour online! Click <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/U3WAm" target="_blank">here</a> to get an aerial view of the property (the symmetry of its <i>jardins à la française</i> is amazing!). Furthermore, you can click on the little orange man in the bottom right corner of the screen and drag him to any of the blue paths that light up on the map. From there, you can click your way through the grounds and "walk" around to see the beautiful landscape that surrounds the palace. I suggest finding the red dot near the center of the screen and placing him just to the left of the two large basins next to the palace - from here, you can pan around to see the palace and the breath-taking view out onto the gardens beyond the stairs. And if you put your mouse over the search bar in the top left of the screen where it says "<span style="text-align: center;">Château de Versailles," a little box will drop down with 'See Inside' as one of the options - click this and you'll be transported inside the Hall of Mirrors, from which you can "walk" in all directions to take a private, tourist-free visit of the building. Man, do I love technology!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lisa and Sam outside the Palace</span></td></tr>
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Here are a few pictures from our stroll through the gardens!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zWRZlPWeODwL-dDErAK5EY2sN-Mya-0gRiaL6RITdEMk1uuQ5R0Wovyhhzr0Fs342revwlncbEAXMl2m5VydYWQ-EshpQHqqxl1456UzzdwiaugLZ9cC0Q3kLiIHwM4HeorV1H2Wqmg/s1600/DSCN3977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zWRZlPWeODwL-dDErAK5EY2sN-Mya-0gRiaL6RITdEMk1uuQ5R0Wovyhhzr0Fs342revwlncbEAXMl2m5VydYWQ-EshpQHqqxl1456UzzdwiaugLZ9cC0Q3kLiIHwM4HeorV1H2Wqmg/s1600/DSCN3977.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lisa and I enjoying the flowers!</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodg_tIRCQlJwrk6BMTcVXB9-8yHyOYktDb5KLGdEUCQrUEEBdYfVjsGgps3On6AeHZ048Ypfc61WygdYvms4M54RAQxwJOutNw2rfC9_3mhK6O5QJjJ7C6_JuT-LAGXLaTNDx4pe_tE0/s1600/DSCN3982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodg_tIRCQlJwrk6BMTcVXB9-8yHyOYktDb5KLGdEUCQrUEEBdYfVjsGgps3On6AeHZ048Ypfc61WygdYvms4M54RAQxwJOutNw2rfC9_3mhK6O5QJjJ7C6_JuT-LAGXLaTNDx4pe_tE0/s1600/DSCN3982.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07Qn9es-o0p7rCn5KVcJ6Z8BmDDDukVY_64VT_Jpu3s5Hu0mKzzRkdEnFyGI5eIdIF34lOPinJ0Wf2mIS8BDAAa9Hc7TdHPRJ-THWFhgB4bXdQpQVhGdZlx1ZEwulrsEjy3fH-IDIjrw/s1600/DSCN3983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07Qn9es-o0p7rCn5KVcJ6Z8BmDDDukVY_64VT_Jpu3s5Hu0mKzzRkdEnFyGI5eIdIF34lOPinJ0Wf2mIS8BDAAa9Hc7TdHPRJ-THWFhgB4bXdQpQVhGdZlx1ZEwulrsEjy3fH-IDIjrw/s1600/DSCN3983.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimAyehcDwzOOj1_DrFcHwnBab6wieh6TCiVWlGEs-GEE0oISt90BEzzPfleSQ4HGcGzBDCqAr3iF0tuW4HYQJG_K766EaVj2M_5cxwLcj6yc3eoeH_tG41ITtJgkLjy4DcwJdlTSvfItw/s1600/DSCN3984.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimAyehcDwzOOj1_DrFcHwnBab6wieh6TCiVWlGEs-GEE0oISt90BEzzPfleSQ4HGcGzBDCqAr3iF0tuW4HYQJG_K766EaVj2M_5cxwLcj6yc3eoeH_tG41ITtJgkLjy4DcwJdlTSvfItw/s1600/DSCN3984.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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After grabbing some paninis in the gardens (an authentic aristocratic 17th century French lunch, no doubt!) and taking full advantage of the sunshine, we made our way back up to the front of the palace and through the long security line to head inside. It was school vacation week in France, so needless to say there were ridiculous crowds of people - but it was still worth a visit! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sam and Lisa outside the front of the palace</span></td></tr>
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Here's a glimpse at what we saw inside...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nearly every surface inside the palace is coated with gold leaf</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5kSwiMY8YZ-lhflNrXysjCjE1JMuGWf71o6CyW2tGdq-4TdEPgbX-HEpXkki3aJqGjG1xeBMrra15xl34wOZSwdm-J1J1NGY9X5mZNt3CNk84rFC4ZIp5W41TU5donPFd5OFSKo_GwQ/s1600/DSCN3989.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5kSwiMY8YZ-lhflNrXysjCjE1JMuGWf71o6CyW2tGdq-4TdEPgbX-HEpXkki3aJqGjG1xeBMrra15xl34wOZSwdm-J1J1NGY9X5mZNt3CNk84rFC4ZIp5W41TU5donPFd5OFSKo_GwQ/s1600/DSCN3989.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Hall of Mirrors</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_avdcGyDF_jKRhhcpxVVxpCGnZv_tqC5pizp2VBwtLjLbZf_1-kG3LGV15x1o6y1r2dtciB4IRsH0lhmDpA5cHlah8oHztO10oz81QHncTxYodqSkOaRZcxux4AorBglQnFfVAb5-Fk/s1600/DSCN3991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_avdcGyDF_jKRhhcpxVVxpCGnZv_tqC5pizp2VBwtLjLbZf_1-kG3LGV15x1o6y1r2dtciB4IRsH0lhmDpA5cHlah8oHztO10oz81QHncTxYodqSkOaRZcxux4AorBglQnFfVAb5-Fk/s1600/DSCN3991.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Marie-Antoinette's bedchamber</span></td></tr>
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After our visit of Versailles, we rode back to Paris, grabbed some <i>crêpes</i> for a mid-afternoon snack, and then entered the Louvre for some more sight-seeing. I could spend (and have spent!) days inside, wandering through every single gallery, but we were on a bit of a time crunch so we ended up just hitting the major highlights. Into the Denon wing we went, with the incredibly underwhelming Mona Lisa on our radar. After saying <i>bonjour</i> to her, we wandered down the Grande Galerie to see more famous works by Da Vinci, Raphael, and other art history legends, passed through the Italian sculpture gallery to see Michelangelo's <i>Slaves</i>, and ended with a swing through the Egyptian wing - the Louvre has the world's second largest collection of Egyptian artifacts, after the museum in Cairo. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCX_g7FpTP1csbq8no0Y6Kc4Ns5r6XxLdXZQ41XwUuQFrAS7-xSW5-FdP6r8Jgh7LkdVg6NOjZXhfj_B6tlh7BCq6aDj4u_5lE7Vh7NMOEj_g1Z5WWYdqNS-3x4C11-UpACRPs-lYlc-M/s1600/DSCN3998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCX_g7FpTP1csbq8no0Y6Kc4Ns5r6XxLdXZQ41XwUuQFrAS7-xSW5-FdP6r8Jgh7LkdVg6NOjZXhfj_B6tlh7BCq6aDj4u_5lE7Vh7NMOEj_g1Z5WWYdqNS-3x4C11-UpACRPs-lYlc-M/s1600/DSCN3998.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michelangelo's <i>Slaves</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHyxkGx3qYBjMTbVxG8EyNk4B2yZeNNPjxMRFqx5AQXkouYiHQvwo7FzglGPhiALkDPGF76QuV0MdfrIU-M_h8qpDB6XscdTM1zyuMtBkVn2M-zY7r22lHd8QgmG1ZdSn-xqcdzxvJuc/s1600/2014-04-30+18.12.48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHyxkGx3qYBjMTbVxG8EyNk4B2yZeNNPjxMRFqx5AQXkouYiHQvwo7FzglGPhiALkDPGF76QuV0MdfrIU-M_h8qpDB6XscdTM1zyuMtBkVn2M-zY7r22lHd8QgmG1ZdSn-xqcdzxvJuc/s1600/2014-04-30+18.12.48.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Walk like and Egyptian</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZRaHIgIk9MMA-mfNQ1I_ziiDSpA7rrsvqAk4U_PoEkPqJBqMg6TzZVfXuT2kwtAwpHspVBXDcArbQNT4gxsJFOr9ridB46P5RBdCUuRq9G7O5v9KAsYkKipmivETLWwhDvsb7-8wNKg/s1600/2014-04-30+18.59.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZRaHIgIk9MMA-mfNQ1I_ziiDSpA7rrsvqAk4U_PoEkPqJBqMg6TzZVfXuT2kwtAwpHspVBXDcArbQNT4gxsJFOr9ridB46P5RBdCUuRq9G7O5v9KAsYkKipmivETLWwhDvsb7-8wNKg/s1600/2014-04-30+18.59.12.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">La Grande Galerie</span></td></tr>
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Although we had only scratched the surface of the museum's vast collection (if you spent 30 seconds in front of each work and never took a break, you'd be inside for over 9 months!), our feet were aching after our day of walking and we decided it would be a great time to take advantage of yet another Happy Hour! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mojito time!</span></td></tr>
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Back when I lived in Paris, my friends and I would frequent <i>Le Comptoir des Archives</i> near Le Centre Pompidou for their 5.50 Euro Happy Hour mojitos, so that's where we ended up! I'm glad to report that they were still just as tasty as they were over 2 years ago - but we tried a couple anyways, just to be sure! For dinner later that evening we ended up at one of my favorite restaurants in the city, Les P'tites Indécises near Place de la République. They have seasonal menus that change depending on what fresh ingredients they pick up, so it's always exciting to go see what happens to be on the menu (although I really like going here for brunch, too!). </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Foie gras with red onion confit and fig bread, delicious!</span></td></tr>
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Sam and Lisa were all for trying local cuisine, so we ordered up an appetizer that is very typically French - <i>foie gras</i>. Meaning 'fatty liver,' foie gras is just that - a chunk of liver from a goose or duck that has been specially fed to become extra fat. Our foie gras came with a sweet red onion confit and delicious home-baked fig bread to spread it on, mmm! While the idea of eating fatty liver may seem revolting, the dish itself is quite tasty and makes for a good appetizer before your meal. My dinner of duck with roasted asparagus, zucchini and green beans was equally delicious - this little restaurant hit a home run once again.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">La Tour Eiffel</span></td></tr>
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Thursday happened to be on May 1, which is called "La Fête du Travail" in France - it's their Labor Day. Consequently, most major monuments and museums run by the French government were closed, but that didn't stop us from having a fun day in the city. We started our day with a trip to the Eiffel Tower, with every intention of going up to the top. I had tried to reserve tickets online so we wouldn't have to wait in line, but since it was school vacation week all those were sold out... After snapping a bunch of pictures on the Champs de Mars at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, we headed underneath it to see what sort of wait we'd be in for.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYQYL1pANjrWRHQMYZSZDFQsSd_LOhKbIdSs8dfXU0HJq5svIyJfIxVNXDe-fe99LuBl64sQFo_rJXXq2ZFzMHJtk6uSmkbvbg79i7cpvDMQnQ5xZX-7A3v23vtbhOsohjOYaHk1THrg/s1600/Westfield+Evening+News+-+Paris+Photo0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYQYL1pANjrWRHQMYZSZDFQsSd_LOhKbIdSs8dfXU0HJq5svIyJfIxVNXDe-fe99LuBl64sQFo_rJXXq2ZFzMHJtk6uSmkbvbg79i7cpvDMQnQ5xZX-7A3v23vtbhOsohjOYaHk1THrg/s1600/Westfield+Evening+News+-+Paris+Photo0001.jpg" height="322" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">If you take a picture of yourself on vacation with a copy of The Westfield News you can end up in the local paper - we're famous now!</span></td></tr>
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I have <i>never</i> seen such long lines there before! We snaked our way through the throngs of people to find the end of the lines and then had to make a decision: did we want to spend 4 hours waiting in line to go up the tower, or would we rather spend that time seeing other attractions in the city? The top floor with the best views was closed anyways due to overcrowding, so we decided that our time would be better spent elsewhere in the city.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Moules-frites again!</span></td></tr>
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Since we were in the market to climb a monument to see the city from above, I suggested going to Sacré-Cœur Basilica and climbing its dome. This is one of my favorite things to do in the city - way less crowded than the Eiffel Tower and with equally impressive views! After crossing the city in a torrential downpour, we decided we'd stop for lunch before climbing the 300+ steps up to the top of the church. We snagged seats under a heated, covered awning on the sidewalk of a café in Montmartre while we ate and waited for the rain to lighten up. It was a little damp with the rain and wind, so it was a perfect opportunity to introduce Sam and Lisa to the glory of <i>vin chaud</i> (hot mulled wine)...yum!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">View from the top of <span style="text-align: justify;">Sacré-Cœur</span></span></td></tr>
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The rain let up enough for us to do a bit of souvenir shopping on our walk over to the church, and just as I had suspected, we only had to wait in line for 2 minutes before we could start climbing to the top of the church - take that, Eiffel Tower! Up the narrow, spiral staircases we went (at some points barely wide enough for your shoulders to pass, not for the claustrophobic!), eager to view the city from a perch high above. Not only do you get to admire the city, you can inspect gargoyles and fancy bell towers up close. I could spend all day up here - you can walk around the entire dome to take in all 360 degrees of the city skyline...amazing every time.</div>
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Continuing our tour of the Montmartre district, we meandered down the cobblestone streets to the famous artists' square at Place du Tertre. A feast for the eyes, artists perched on stools sit with their oil paints and palette knives, skillfully creating masterpieces right before your eyes. You can find all kinds of works here: pastels, watercolors, oil paintings, charcoal sketches and mixed media collages. While the prices aren't cheap, it's a wonderful place to buy up some unique decorations for your home, and you can feel good knowing your money is going directly to the skilled artisans who have created your one-of-a-kind souvenir. We're re-doing one of our bathrooms at home, so I picked out a watercolor to go on the wall, as well as a work in pencil and acrylic for my bedroom back home - I'll think of Paris every time I see them!</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFmm2XqY0hozEVea5FnYJlbtmOdYuBkAP2FerQT2sch33SA1-zjlJ2ygsiPajZoBtY15nXCIttUYsRW_ZwdMgqF01AummwOXUizcee_ljYMyAK_aAKpHaSbgoysODcw2W4MfOpRebZPzw/s1600/2014-05-19+16.54.15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFmm2XqY0hozEVea5FnYJlbtmOdYuBkAP2FerQT2sch33SA1-zjlJ2ygsiPajZoBtY15nXCIttUYsRW_ZwdMgqF01AummwOXUizcee_ljYMyAK_aAKpHaSbgoysODcw2W4MfOpRebZPzw/s1600/2014-05-19+16.54.15.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">My acrylic and pencil work showing Notre-Dame and its surrounding gardens in a flourish of color - matches perfectly with the honeydew green walls in my room! A steal at only 20€!</span></td></tr>
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We bought some groceries and returned to our apartment for an evening in out of the rain - soaked to the core, we needed to dry out a bit! I had invited my friend Kasey over for dinner, drinks and conversation with some fellow Americans, so we had a great evening relaxing and swapping stories. I whipped up some <i>coq au vin</i>, which is chicken, carrots, onions and mushrooms simmered in a red wine sauce and we had <i>crème brûlée</i> (store bought, caramelized at home!) - delicious and a fraction of the price we'd pay for all that in a restaurant. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sam, Lisa and Kasey during Happy Hour at our apartment!</span></td></tr>
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Kasey and I had to say our final goodbyes, as she was headed off to Prague with some friends and we'd be back in the States by the time she returned. I'm grateful to have had such an amazing friend, confidante and fellow fun-loving American in the city - we had lots of fun adventures together and she never failed to make room for me in her tiny apartment whenever I was passing through! Merci beaucoup, mon amie! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kasey et moi</span></td></tr>
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We had to be up and out of our apartment early Friday morning, for it was time to go to the glorious place that is Forbach! I had a few things to wrap up before returning to the US and figured that Lisa and Sam would get to see another region of France and even hop over into Germany by staying with me for a couple nights. </div>
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After a 2 hour train ride, we arrived back "home" and after dropping off our bags at my apartment we took another train across the border into Saarbrücken. It was gorgeous out and made for a lovely afternoon putzing through the shops in the city. Sam and Lisa thought it was cool that we could so easily jump across the border into a country with a totally different language and culture just to do some light shopping. As is customary every time I'm in Saarbrücken, I had to get a cheesy pretzel! While Meike usually would order mine for me, I got to use my extremely limited German and ordered it myself: "Eine Brezel mit Käse bitte ... Danke, Tschüss!" (One pretzel with cheese please...thanks, bye!). My friends laughed and asked when I had learned German - but when you're hungry and want a pretzel (which is pretty much every time I go there to shop), desperate times call for desperate measures. They followed suit and got cheesy pretzels too, and we munched on them while we wrapped up our German shopping extravaganza. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">A delicious, cheesy German pretzel</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We killed a little time (and had a little wine!) back at my apartment and then dined at <i>Au Vieux Strasbourg</i>, the great little Alsatian restaurant in Forbach. I had told my friends about the tasty regional dish called <i><a href="http://rachinforbach.blogspot.fr/2014/02/adventures-in-alsatian-cooking.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">flammekueche</span></a> </i>and they were eager to try them; we each ordered one of the cheese and bacon covered thin-crust pizzas. Lisa got Muenster cheese on hers and wondered why it smelled like feet when it was delivered to our table - a sure sign of authentic Muenster cheese, not the orange-dyed variety found at grocery store deli counters back home! </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Orange: my final battle with French customer service</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Saturday morning, I had to take care of some business, namely the horrid task of trying to cancel my home phone/cable/internet services. Knowing all to well by this point that any bureaucratic endeavor in France will never be easy or go as planned, I braced myself as I headed downtown. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had made a special trip to the Orange boutique (like a Verizon store) the week before to find out exactly what I needed to do to rid myself of my technological services, and after waiting in line for 20 minutes a super helpful gentleman told me it'd be easier for him if I just called a phone number and had someone there explain the process to me...even though I was standing in front of a living, breathing human being who works for the company whose phone number I'd be calling. Long story short, he eventually said I just had to bring my cable and internet boxes back to the store to get my 50 Euro deposit back and cancel my contracts. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, a week later, when I did just that, I got to the store only to be told that I can't just walk in and cancel my services, but needed to write a letter stating that I wished to terminate my contract and then mail it through certified, return-receipt mail...which was super convenient because it was my last day in Forbach and the post office was already closed for the week. The ever-compassionate store worker told me that was my problem, not his, and that I should have come in earlier to clarify exactly what I needed to do in order to properly cancel my services - at which point I started bashing my head against a wall. After writing said letter back here in the US and spending $20 to mail it all the way back to France, I'm still waiting to see how/when I'll get my deposit back (but have basically accepted the fact that it's long gone). French customer service never fails to aggravate me!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcDuXOyjAqvvw3qWVyK7AfTNss5B5Jc1uX8DmnQBjAUk4ZsUJakTfdg3zPwaEhyb6IOsbKmycC9jIeKoHJ0Okw9fnelDFGKoZaKurU1CQn77uVONo3oZbqGwGtY84UN-8Wf1YvsrgVyA/s1600/2014-05-03+14.27.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcDuXOyjAqvvw3qWVyK7AfTNss5B5Jc1uX8DmnQBjAUk4ZsUJakTfdg3zPwaEhyb6IOsbKmycC9jIeKoHJ0Okw9fnelDFGKoZaKurU1CQn77uVONo3oZbqGwGtY84UN-8Wf1YvsrgVyA/s1600/2014-05-03+14.27.28.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sam and I with our cheese fondue</span></td></tr>
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Blood-boiling, I returned to my apartment to pick up Sam and Lisa, for we were headed up to Metz for the afternoon. Back on the train we went, and 45 minutes later we arrived in the city. It was lunchtime and en route to the city's amazing cathedral we stumbled upon a fondue restaurant called Heureux Comme Alexandre - since my friends hadn't yet tried this our during our trip, we decided to go for it. The menu is simple: pick either cheese or meat fondue, pair it with an appropriate beer or wine and bingo, you've got yourself a delicious lunch. Sam and I opted for the cheese fondue while Lisa went for the beef one. You get a big platter of salad, unlimited pan fried potatoes and a multitude of sauces to try. While Sam and I twirled chunks of baguette in our molten pot of cheese, Lisa cooked her raw pieces of beef in a bubbling cauldron of oil flavored with bouillon. I got to chatting up the owner/bartender/server, and he ended our meal by bringing 4 shots of mirabelle plum liqueur over to our table (3 for us, one for himself!). I had told him that I lived in Forbach and was about to move back to the US, and he said the shots would give us a good lasting memory of life in Lorraine (better than my stay in crappy old Forbach)!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lisa and her beef fondue pot</span></td></tr>
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We rolled ourselves out of the restaurant and down the street to Metz's cathedral, one of my favorite Gothic churches in France. After thoroughly photographing the inside and the outside, we continued to stroll through the town, taking pictures of the quaint little churches and buildings by the river and then doing a bit of shopping before returning to Forbach for the evening.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The cathedral's intricate Gothic facade</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">One last view down the nave</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fancy caf</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;">é</span><span style="font-size: small;">s near the Opera</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the cute little gardens behind the Temple Neuf</span></td></tr>
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I couldn't believe the moment was finally here: my last night in Forbach! We created a dinner from stuff that I had left in my pantry and then finished packing up our suitcases, since we were returning to Paris the next morning to spend one last day in the capital before flying home on Monday. It was fun lugging our five 50 lb suitcases (plus numerous carry-on bags) down the 5 flights of stairs to leave my apartment building, and sort of surreal to be leaving the gates of the campus where I lived and worked for the past 8 months one final time. Thankfully, one of my colleagues had offered to drive us to the train station so we wouldn't have to wrangle our bags through town alone - by this point, one of my 3 suitcases had a completely busted wheel. We frantically boarded our train with all of our bags and settled in for a ride back to Paris as we watched Forbach and its mining infrastructure-dotted skyline slip away in the distance...</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQoMkLTG0y6i3zCJHT0QnyKN1EJZh4NQU-R75-nrzIdY0L2Dr43zF8Jm91xW8QzJAxj4Zg_uk9BTr10bbRq-4ULTIpJStpcwtH04jPfQQ6tlpYM1Q44thxDH_IiBL8R38RsDmKyFTnts/s1600/2014-05-04+10.03.26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQoMkLTG0y6i3zCJHT0QnyKN1EJZh4NQU-R75-nrzIdY0L2Dr43zF8Jm91xW8QzJAxj4Zg_uk9BTr10bbRq-4ULTIpJStpcwtH04jPfQQ6tlpYM1Q44thxDH_IiBL8R38RsDmKyFTnts/s1600/2014-05-04+10.03.26.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">My cork collection from Forbach sadly wouldn't fit in my suitcase :(</span></td></tr>
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Some nice guys took pity on us as we arrived at Gare de l'Est back in Paris and helped us unload all of our bags from the train - we just had to drag our stuff down the street a ways to our hotel for the night. Hot and exhausted by the time we finally arrived, we grabbed some paninis for lunch and rode the metro back to the city center for our afternoon entertainment. I had purchased some deals from Groupon France for a guided boat cruise through the city on the Seine a while back, and we couldn't have picked a nicer day to use them! I had been on the Bateaux-Mouches a few times before, but this time we were using the Vedettes du Pont Neuf and had a live guide instead of a pre-recorded tour. We enjoyed our picnic lunch on the top deck of the boat, got some sun and snapped a bunch of great pictures, all while learning some new facts about the city. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Getting some sun on our cruise</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdoaXDTMPFfnyG86tTShny5CFemrV4AlxQiz4sohk_F4ewR6CtHq7viHScKDBun6nGmOVmxiJRB3xQ4ooO1YPsFBbwXd1Q13YJ2aCVA04PwaXzU0_9pNDFeQY3J0NquFXSf57sEEITGU/s1600/DSCN4043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdoaXDTMPFfnyG86tTShny5CFemrV4AlxQiz4sohk_F4ewR6CtHq7viHScKDBun6nGmOVmxiJRB3xQ4ooO1YPsFBbwXd1Q13YJ2aCVA04PwaXzU0_9pNDFeQY3J0NquFXSf57sEEITGU/s1600/DSCN4043.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yet another view of the Eiffel Tower!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gilded statues on Pont Alexandre III</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-H9UZ6hwEeoBHEndP_MSIM82GJihUOM5W6zLnhs7rHLrnHBv0UK_y94jMxdd4JfL7QsIy1-Nc2-LimmUtfvJxvXjP2SaavPm7B9f8CqaYHIpxgGCnn_2KhB0X5n_0ns7qF0r_sLTQBA/s1600/DSCN4050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-H9UZ6hwEeoBHEndP_MSIM82GJihUOM5W6zLnhs7rHLrnHBv0UK_y94jMxdd4JfL7QsIy1-Nc2-LimmUtfvJxvXjP2SaavPm7B9f8CqaYHIpxgGCnn_2KhB0X5n_0ns7qF0r_sLTQBA/s1600/DSCN4050.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mus</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;">é</span><span style="font-size: small;">e D'Orsay</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Notre Dame, seen from all angles!</span></td></tr>
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In need of some cool refreshments after our boat ride, we headed down to the Jardin du Luxembourg to grab some ice cream and do a bit of people watching. After attempting to buy ice cream from one fancy ice cream stand, only to be told that they were tired because the ice cream was too hard to scoop (imagine that, frozen ice cream! only in France...), we bought some right outside the park's gates instead. They have every flavor imaginable: honey, lavender, Armagnac, lily of the valley...and more common varieties like chocolate and vanilla. I settled on two scoops of dark chocolate and salted butter caramel, and we set off in search of a spot to sit in the park. Everyone else in the city must have had the same idea, for there was not a free seat to be had! We plopped ourselves down on the edge of one of the big fountains and watched as kids raced sailboats up and down the basin.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The French Senate building in the Jardin du Luxembourg</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sailboat races in the fountain</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Palm trees in the garden, a sure sign that summer is here!</span></td></tr>
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We strolled across the park and took a detour to check out St-Sulpice church (the one from the Da Vinci Code), since it was right next to where we were, and then continued on to find a suitable place for our last Happy Hour in Paris...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">St-Sulpice</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The large fountain at Place St-Sulpice</span></td></tr>
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We wound up at Café Mondrian (named after the Dutch <i>De Stijl</i> painter) in St-Germain-des-Prés and did some more people-watching while we sipped our cocktails and reflected on our amazing week together.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Half-price fancy drinks with glow stick stirrers in a ritzy neighborhood, can't beat it!</span></td></tr>
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Following Happy Hour (which, thankfully, in Paris lasts much longer than one single solitary hour!) we returned to Café Jade (near the Odéon metro stop) and savored a final French dinner. We split an order of <i>escargots</i> and then I dove into a delectable platter of <i>confit de canard</i> one last time...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nos escargots</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lisa and her <i>Croque Madame </i></span></td></tr>
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Exhausted from our day of moving out of Forbach and sight-seeing in Paris, we turned in early as we had a plane to catch the next day. I was so eager to finally return home, but at the same time quite melancholy about leaving France and more specifically Paris, a city which will forever hold a piece of my heart.</div>
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Our trek from our hotel to the airport the next morning was quite humorous, as my already damaged suitcase suffered a second broken wheel - I was essentially dragging this 50 pound behemoth down the sidewalk, utterly at the mercy of the duct tape holding the bottom of it together. We made it onto the RER and finally arrived at the airport, grateful to snag some luggage carts the second we got off the train! I am so grateful that Lisa and Sam were there with me and able to help me wrangle all of my bags, as there is absolutely no way I would have been able to do it alone! </div>
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We flew 3 hours from Paris to Iceland, had a 1:25 layover, and then continued on for the last 5 hours from Iceland to Boston. Miraculously, all of our bags made it to Boston as well (and my damaged bag was somehow still held together by the duct tape!), and we eagerly began our 2 hour drive back to Westfield. Although I didn't get to my house until almost 11pm, I was so happy to finally be home that it didn't even matter!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Molly, my favorite furry friend</span></td></tr>
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There's really nothing like sleeping in your own bed again! My kitty Molly and I snuggled in for some much needed sleep, while the daunting task of unpacking all 150+ lbs of luggage could wait til the next day!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Luggage explosion!</span></td></tr>
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I had an amazing week with Sam and Lisa - I wish it could have been longer! We got to see and do so much together, and I was really happy to be able to show them around my stomping grounds - a repeat adventure someday is a must!</div>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com2Westfield, MA, USA42.1250929 -72.7495380000000341.936707399999996 -73.072261500000025 42.3134784 -72.426814500000035tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-6775638297289504792014-04-22T13:56:00.001-04:002014-05-06T17:25:41.414-04:00Slàinte mhath: Cheers to Scotland!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Edinburgh's New Town, with the Nor Loch in the background</span></td></tr>
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My latest adventure: a week-long trip to Scotland with my 3èmes (equivalent of 9th graders)! This was the first school trip I'd be going on where I wasn't actually a student - weird!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ferry route from IJmuiden, Netherlands to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, England</span></td></tr>
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We had quite the voyage to actually get from Forbach to our ultimate destination of Edinburgh...Step 1: Drive from Forbach to IJmuiden, Holland. Step 2: Take a ferry overnight from IJmuiden to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, England. Step 3: Drive up to Edinburgh.<br />
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After about 6 hours of driving, we arrived in IJmuiden - the closest port to Amsterdam. We boarded the ferry (along with about 1300 other people, plus cars and buses) and shoved off at about 5 pm, due to arrive in Newcastle at 9 the next morning. In light of the recent tragedy involving the ferry which just sunk off the coast of South Korea, it was hard to be completely at ease, but we had a decent time on our journey nonetheless. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1fxqfWSBLi4U7MHNcAChdUGBT_pIJFzWUKVZw0TXQdrpE8xJTRH3VkU3YGUYMXcnsWFVB9tQt5CkYH1y-EeufUyDLioaTdrCTO6CRpKCX_29MZbO7fZOl3kfYJam-8WsfcUi2sMFmNak/s1600/DSCN3787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1fxqfWSBLi4U7MHNcAChdUGBT_pIJFzWUKVZw0TXQdrpE8xJTRH3VkU3YGUYMXcnsWFVB9tQt5CkYH1y-EeufUyDLioaTdrCTO6CRpKCX_29MZbO7fZOl3kfYJam-8WsfcUi2sMFmNak/s1600/DSCN3787.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our ferry, the King Seaways</span></td></tr>
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After dinner, some drinks on the top deck and an evening listening to some cheesy on-board entertainment in the lounge, we settled in to our tiny, clunky cabin for the night, eager to disembark and begin the real part of our trip the next morning. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsfGI_MTmmp4hHIBK117FpYPf1AnxXSDleCSn6Bhvx9dJ2_dOcqQzx1WjnXIASn_8PZ8uL2wM7YDV2Og9t0B6WYsX2b2WPDBEx0B8kBgJzxodBpben0P9dQSfvfn260kEq66KrDm6sQQ/s1600/DSCN3791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsfGI_MTmmp4hHIBK117FpYPf1AnxXSDleCSn6Bhvx9dJ2_dOcqQzx1WjnXIASn_8PZ8uL2wM7YDV2Og9t0B6WYsX2b2WPDBEx0B8kBgJzxodBpben0P9dQSfvfn260kEq66KrDm6sQQ/s1600/DSCN3791.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunset over the North Sea</span></td></tr>
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We docked and finally rejoined our bus around 10 o'clock, en route for Edinburgh, Scotland with a side-trip to Greenhead, England to break up the day a bit. At Greenhead there's a Roman Army Museum showcasing the life of the Roman soldiers who lived in the area and who were ultimately responsible for the construction of Hadrian's Wall. Artifacts in the museum show everything from clothing to tools and weapons, and there's even a 3D film you can catch which further details soldiers' lives along the wall. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDePQyZdU_hcp6wmP5Z-3RuymKPCrN5XTyUQAIPxd34RqVTVXR7ivsFHrfh1psUr0PQYhUYHOxmmTTzYDE1vsvBklwhP9ULxqMIk8cEPAk9Z0Y1SSxfw3CmgjmxxT6NmuL-4DtTwi59I/s1600/DSCN3804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDePQyZdU_hcp6wmP5Z-3RuymKPCrN5XTyUQAIPxd34RqVTVXR7ivsFHrfh1psUr0PQYhUYHOxmmTTzYDE1vsvBklwhP9ULxqMIk8cEPAk9Z0Y1SSxfw3CmgjmxxT6NmuL-4DtTwi59I/s1600/DSCN3804.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the Roman Army Museum in Greenhead, England</span></td></tr>
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Begun in 122 AD, Hadrian's Wall was ordered by the Roman Emperor Hadrian with the purpose of creating a barrier between his Empire and the savage barbarians who were living in the northern part of modern-day Great Britain. Running from Newcastle and the North Sea west across the island to Carlisle and the Irish Sea, the wall is about 73 miles long. Originally about 6 feet wide and upwards of 20 feet tall, historians estimate that the wall was composed of some 18 million stones! It's thought that a soldier could hew one stone every 20 minutes, so you can imagine how many man hours it took to get this massive job done. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsTpeZ9o0JqbU8JrXsI-lxUInTTSsO1eQxqfD9z6OIMP8SbRvdy3oCg6ucAgrm-h7yag3_VYIWlQNB509af6qViI0xXwCmyXyjfUHPVpmJnraNuKoxbqvbSf6WF6jJ3r_R607NNZwqHE/s1600/hadrians-wall-map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsTpeZ9o0JqbU8JrXsI-lxUInTTSsO1eQxqfD9z6OIMP8SbRvdy3oCg6ucAgrm-h7yag3_VYIWlQNB509af6qViI0xXwCmyXyjfUHPVpmJnraNuKoxbqvbSf6WF6jJ3r_R607NNZwqHE/s1600/hadrians-wall-map.jpg" height="236" width="640" /></a><br />
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Traditionally, the boundaries of the Roman Empire were dotted with watch towers and small forts from which soldiers could guard against invaders. As the Empire in its heyday was constantly expanding, it didn't make sense to waste lots of resources constructing concrete barriers at its limits, as the Emperor's control was constantly seeping further past yesterday's established frontiers. Hadrian's Wall, then, was something new for the Empire - for once, they decided to spend lots of effort constructing a boundary that would essentially halt the expansion of Roman territory. While Hadrian claimed that the wall was to keep out the barbarians who lived north of the frontier, modern historians think that he simply wanted to keep his previously idle soldiers busy. Evidence shows that the barbarians weren't particularly menacing towards the Romans and didn't have ambitions of trying to invade Roman territory, partly because the craggy landscape would have made it extremely difficult anyways. Whatever the real motives, ruins of the wall still stand today and are well-preserved in some areas, like those at Walltown Quarry and Walltown Crags in Greenhead.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_FJKBt7NwX61pdWwI4U0o6G6n4O6SYzbtxJLU7BrB8q8UOdp1HgutjmnW82foO4ZgBfUbjpTbWoYm8FUPM6-24F8Q-9cx122_ZV4hfQ-4wFkh3oH2xPV660cNHUOYRVg3a0DskrzltRQ/s1600/DSCN3833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_FJKBt7NwX61pdWwI4U0o6G6n4O6SYzbtxJLU7BrB8q8UOdp1HgutjmnW82foO4ZgBfUbjpTbWoYm8FUPM6-24F8Q-9cx122_ZV4hfQ-4wFkh3oH2xPV660cNHUOYRVg3a0DskrzltRQ/s1600/DSCN3833.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Crags separate former barbarian lands (left) from the higher Roman controlled area (right)</span></td></tr>
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I had been told that it's quite windy by the Wall, but I severely underestimate the strength of the gusts we encountered on our trek! We had to pass through some sheep pastures on the way up to the top - I was slightly envious of their thick wool coats at that point.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMliKJlBNCGNHnnKbHuIanzVthL6HMK2afw4ubwuR_MFL-9oyGSOe3MekZFfP3nPHIX5LJ1P0Z4vhTEv1yLYde-cEFwmfNkraiiUvnCDT8GB6UQ7gqAR3d-4u1LBPYyHdvm4rK_c69gJc/s1600/DSCN3810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMliKJlBNCGNHnnKbHuIanzVthL6HMK2afw4ubwuR_MFL-9oyGSOe3MekZFfP3nPHIX5LJ1P0Z4vhTEv1yLYde-cEFwmfNkraiiUvnCDT8GB6UQ7gqAR3d-4u1LBPYyHdvm4rK_c69gJc/s1600/DSCN3810.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hiking through a sheep pasture on our way up to Hadrian's Wall</span></td></tr>
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And then after a bit of huffing and puffing, we finally made it up to the top where we could take in the Wall as well as the beautiful panoramic views of the surrounding countryside.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bracing myself against the insane wind up at the Wall</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRABlM6cU8ugnDuvZOI8zxre1tCDAKUXw6d8mzxqy4oQqNNddIjMTlOjjF5C6cVNzWv_IQk0dlFkNxuMUYGcCON1mDDXPs7Kb3rd0hDRLsED-Go1C6GbFyYVzHQ1RqrOybPEMc5m7SSEg/s1600/IMG_20140413_224904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRABlM6cU8ugnDuvZOI8zxre1tCDAKUXw6d8mzxqy4oQqNNddIjMTlOjjF5C6cVNzWv_IQk0dlFkNxuMUYGcCON1mDDXPs7Kb3rd0hDRLsED-Go1C6GbFyYVzHQ1RqrOybPEMc5m7SSEg/s1600/IMG_20140413_224904.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hadrian's Wall</span></td></tr>
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Hadrian's Wall isn't quite as high as it used to be, but considering it's nearly 2000 years old it still amazes me that there is anything left at all!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF0dox63t0sClWmk-INohcc7A62rGJx2RumaPyPnXEhibYCyTyk8mMUjD_ZGMXPlr7S_DrAp1CIgnyZUIysitlSLGg64tgZNcgBPdSHMrdUQaoCqX7xCK6ngWWRZJYi35rN3modZSCBko/s1600/DSCN3826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF0dox63t0sClWmk-INohcc7A62rGJx2RumaPyPnXEhibYCyTyk8mMUjD_ZGMXPlr7S_DrAp1CIgnyZUIysitlSLGg64tgZNcgBPdSHMrdUQaoCqX7xCK6ngWWRZJYi35rN3modZSCBko/s1600/DSCN3826.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sitting on a little piece of ancient history - with super fashionable windswept hair, no less!</span></td></tr>
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And for all my fellow Game of Thrones fans (lots of free time in France = binge watching TV shows online!), the series' creator George R.R. Martin has confirmed that The Wall, which figures prominently in the show and protects the realm from the dreaded White Walkers, was indeed inspired by Hadrian's Wall - and this map of the mythical lands from the show bears a striking resemblance to the aforementioned map showing Hadrian's Wall crossing England....some food for thought!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc8_F-cFnNaYiykBtoPRGl9ufSaxPoSzf1QzEITa-QYT0l1oAdJIxhc4G7NbY5z5p79HXlKEyvWYMnvLdxkDP7cADj1zuBt9yqnharak28sA8Nv-WtMTSwVkVyeYly5NM9h_6C5vkPgaM/s1600/NineteenCastlesOnTheWall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc8_F-cFnNaYiykBtoPRGl9ufSaxPoSzf1QzEITa-QYT0l1oAdJIxhc4G7NbY5z5p79HXlKEyvWYMnvLdxkDP7cADj1zuBt9yqnharak28sA8Nv-WtMTSwVkVyeYly5NM9h_6C5vkPgaM/s1600/NineteenCastlesOnTheWall.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Map of The Wall from Game of Thrones</span></td></tr>
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Springtime is lambing season, and that means you'll see loads of cute little lambs scampering about! I actually couldn't believe how many sheep there were in general - every field and hillside is covered with the fluffy little critters and their <i>baah</i>-ing resonates across the landscape. Farmers actually spray paint either a number or a colored dot on the lambs (and often on the adults as well) so that in case they escape they can be easily identified and returned to their proper owner. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwyR6dZZqlSTq_qxzQJnptEJHsWyntVQQT12aXU0GOZ0FYlW1pBukcaGA-aZfQKY8B0Xk4ajkG_i_eluVyhEuETJ7gfLsAWumgz6JekAGn557uKkMpPK03vlgI3ojao_i6ahPMJfanIc/s1600/DSCN3829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwyR6dZZqlSTq_qxzQJnptEJHsWyntVQQT12aXU0GOZ0FYlW1pBukcaGA-aZfQKY8B0Xk4ajkG_i_eluVyhEuETJ7gfLsAWumgz6JekAGn557uKkMpPK03vlgI3ojao_i6ahPMJfanIc/s1600/DSCN3829.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Baaaah!</i></span></td></tr>
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More sheep facts: black-faced sheep come from Scotland, and white-faced sheep hail from England. Now you know!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDoJPbiUxM6CJr0WM6YQ99atmR7AywaUDKTD_gpLb0ciQO4lg_UJe5jCLqjy9zPbt6apFkZUMB4jvKg4MJoPfJnnIlMDspS_3qMzuMWLD_T6f0Z5fFqxrQLVRxjiN-KfZ_AQd2gPzXt7E/s1600/DSCN3835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDoJPbiUxM6CJr0WM6YQ99atmR7AywaUDKTD_gpLb0ciQO4lg_UJe5jCLqjy9zPbt6apFkZUMB4jvKg4MJoPfJnnIlMDspS_3qMzuMWLD_T6f0Z5fFqxrQLVRxjiN-KfZ_AQd2gPzXt7E/s1600/DSCN3835.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the height of lambing season</span></td></tr>
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Continuing on from Greenhead, we crossed the border into Scotland and arrived in the environs of Edinburgh* later that evening. [*"Edinburgh" does not, in fact, rhyme with "Pittsburgh" - say "ED-in-burr-uh"!] Instead of staying in a hotel during our trip, as in common for field trips in the US, all 39 of us were lodged with Scottish host families in hopes of providing a more authentic cultural perspective - and forcing the students to practice their English, of course! </div>
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We stayed in a city called Dalkeith, about a 20 minute drive from downtown Edinburgh. I shared a host family with one of the other English teachers, and we had quite the host mom! Karoline, the tattooed grandma was a chatty spitfire who had a knack for cooking and loved watching Judge Judy reruns. She was quite happy to be welcoming fluent English-speakers, as the past few groups she had staying with her spoke extremely limited English, or none at all. Her trick for communicating with them? She'd jump on GoogleTranslate on her laptop and type them a message! I enjoyed talking with her, even though I occasionally had to ask her to repeat herself because I couldn't get past her thick Scottish accent - if I had issues with it, I can only imagine how our students must have felt upon arrival! All in all, we had at great time at Karoline's and I think the rest of the students enjoyed their home stays as well.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8Erz5LYusW1Lch_OlomV80WpvZNqMQ0KH7qFK1SJ1e_jbOeHULMjnSfM7ElZ6DJk_uuklEFePkKHYrEykuF9sLg3PhKlYCqoFRQmX3MutYpD4KiBRYtwsk1JKNijCOpLmY8-P_v-pDk/s1600/10011712_10152379699913987_7300979693131608027_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8Erz5LYusW1Lch_OlomV80WpvZNqMQ0KH7qFK1SJ1e_jbOeHULMjnSfM7ElZ6DJk_uuklEFePkKHYrEykuF9sLg3PhKlYCqoFRQmX3MutYpD4KiBRYtwsk1JKNijCOpLmY8-P_v-pDk/s1600/10011712_10152379699913987_7300979693131608027_o.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rachael the Giant!</span></td></tr>
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For our first full day in Edinburgh, we began with a visit to Camera Obscura, a museum of optical illusions. They had all sorts of interactive displays, with things like a mirror maze, human kaleidoscope, magic eye puzzles, and other parlor trick type activities. On the top floor, you go into a dark room (a <i>camera obscura</i>, in Latin) and get to see a live image of the city projected onto a table in the center of the room. Built just for fun in the 1850's by Mary Theresa Short, the device, also called a camera obscura, uses mirrors and lenses to pass a live-feed image of Edinburgh through a periscope and onto a surface in the dark room. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb5ChdH9PHSfIzOBThK7jSI6rSJeLuX94mVojBpIBa4xykoHwuppUqMWI5aona8nXiWGl3Qe-_8QVfTkRokYondecb8fMeSqhG1vODSsfya-Qi5JQCXqxXrYrp627P-7KFtP1ilySsauQ/s1600/camera-obscura-diagram.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb5ChdH9PHSfIzOBThK7jSI6rSJeLuX94mVojBpIBa4xykoHwuppUqMWI5aona8nXiWGl3Qe-_8QVfTkRokYondecb8fMeSqhG1vODSsfya-Qi5JQCXqxXrYrp627P-7KFtP1ilySsauQ/s1600/camera-obscura-diagram.jpg" height="288" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A diagram showing the basic workings of a <i>camera obscura</i></span></td></tr>
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We had fun checking out all the different exhibits and then the teachers and I headed off to lunch...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid-KxxyndVUytD_51s3_vvChP5O1ipVvV-pzV5ZBhAHQLsGgPWQQzxOTxSloO0cUoH138DlanKjkdU0LBvomniEVoohTYpKYunPB_fVyFGdDvXcv1Qep2xXza1uHYQk_QoFMjm0yM9mZc/s1600/DSCN3850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid-KxxyndVUytD_51s3_vvChP5O1ipVvV-pzV5ZBhAHQLsGgPWQQzxOTxSloO0cUoH138DlanKjkdU0LBvomniEVoohTYpKYunPB_fVyFGdDvXcv1Qep2xXza1uHYQk_QoFMjm0yM9mZc/s1600/DSCN3850.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My head on a platter!</span></td></tr>
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Not surprisingly, we wound up at a pub - called The Halfway House, it's supposedly Edinburgh's smallest tavern. Of course, we were in search of authentic Scottish cuisine and a refreshing pint, so haggis and hard cider was an easy decision. For the cider bit, the title of this post is the Scots way to say cheers: Slàinte mhath [pronounced: <span style="text-align: start;">SLANJ-uh VAH] - let's just say we had plenty of opportunities to practice our pronunciation! And w</span>hat the heck is haggis, you ask? A traditional Scottish sausage, haggis is a mixture of chopped sheep liver, heart and lungs, mixed with oatmeal, suet and lots of pepper, all packed inside a sheep's stomach. I ordered haggis, neeps and tatties: ground up haggis sausage accompanied by sides of mashed potatoes and mashed turnips. Served steaming hot out of the oven, the haggis didn't actually taste too crazy - it had the consistency of lumpy oatmeal and basically tasted like pepper. It wasn't disgusting, but it also wasn't anything I'd expressly order again - but I'm glad I tried it!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1LjTyD50arfDKU9HAODj9CpnbpTHkoOTRET2ISQHGBUk9gvVXJn4L3N054MbH5s-HBS6JZMyeAR8-U7d-eeJlrVlwyz40KPiAWo36KxmM8DBPJelAfUDtXsfdDoKWVCun30NGm688LCg/s1600/DSCN3851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1LjTyD50arfDKU9HAODj9CpnbpTHkoOTRET2ISQHGBUk9gvVXJn4L3N054MbH5s-HBS6JZMyeAR8-U7d-eeJlrVlwyz40KPiAWo36KxmM8DBPJelAfUDtXsfdDoKWVCun30NGm688LCg/s1600/DSCN3851.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Haggis, Neeps & Tatties</span></td></tr>
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Full of traditional Scottish fare, we trotted back up the Royal Mile (the street which runs between Holyrood Palace and Edinburgh Castle) to take a self-guided tour of the latter.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXZT6282wwb5XLksWH8pcboPH_kKE_WcmrSAqHxy9QBPCf8hFlDSJx2n5dcOE0WGUX_zU-Vfoo3OdfrC_qA2Rqu2-h3aAXbiAEq5HAqfoy0MPRiDGWYASjMSmDEDKlnnZ-2xzvP30f78/s1600/DSCN3846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXZT6282wwb5XLksWH8pcboPH_kKE_WcmrSAqHxy9QBPCf8hFlDSJx2n5dcOE0WGUX_zU-Vfoo3OdfrC_qA2Rqu2-h3aAXbiAEq5HAqfoy0MPRiDGWYASjMSmDEDKlnnZ-2xzvP30f78/s1600/DSCN3846.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Edinburgh Castle complex</span></td></tr>
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Perched high above the city on top of Castle Rock, the fortress sits atop the remains of an extinct volcano - it last erupted about 350 million years ago - providing an excellent vantage point on the city and creating a natural defense against invaders.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2xUD1gbHEgAjL0MknwWU22A49KgVCjJw9IFCZdoMtZ7MhSsih1xD-xeGFl-c85Bq0Xf9REZ7tSdz6vke08bNJkMW2mPo9i5oENR9LIYjGNhbIuaxPE9fLsmKci5xERvT0TGB05m3v1Y/s1600/2014-04-14+15.28.02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2xUD1gbHEgAjL0MknwWU22A49KgVCjJw9IFCZdoMtZ7MhSsih1xD-xeGFl-c85Bq0Xf9REZ7tSdz6vke08bNJkMW2mPo9i5oENR9LIYjGNhbIuaxPE9fLsmKci5xERvT0TGB05m3v1Y/s1600/2014-04-14+15.28.02.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Castle's entrance</span></td></tr>
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At the Castle, you can visit the 12th-century St. Margaret's chapel (the oldest building in Edinburgh), the Royal Palace, Great Hall, National War Memorial, and many other structures, including the building that holds the Royal Honours of Scotland (the crown jewels!). </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZ30x_vdbz8tJxS5okQcE8ZiTGn97oRSmsW6n0UtzzvWMcZX3JzoJFwE29GRWwmsHaOMURByKZbaxuj3LnfrF6FNd0dTfQuQTGZBqkMn9AzkJSUrol9iAt_DqOJYxI4bIgXNLdKR18Dw/s1600/DSCN3856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZ30x_vdbz8tJxS5okQcE8ZiTGn97oRSmsW6n0UtzzvWMcZX3JzoJFwE29GRWwmsHaOMURByKZbaxuj3LnfrF6FNd0dTfQuQTGZBqkMn9AzkJSUrol9iAt_DqOJYxI4bIgXNLdKR18Dw/s1600/DSCN3856.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The One O'Clock Gun</span></td></tr>
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At the Castle sits the One O'Clock Gun. Used everyday, it fires at precisely 1:00 pm to serve as a time signal for the city as well as ships at the harbor of Leith and those in the Firth of Forth. An audible signal was preferred as it's often so foggy in Edinburgh that trying to see the time on the face of a clock could be troublesome. And why fire at 1:00? Why not at noon? Well, Scots are known for penny-pinching, and they decided it would be less costly to fire a single shot at 1:00 versus 12 shots at 12:00... </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOp47eTqcj5WDUqS3anhORu-cszdiM8BHQaYYVdHHcRCx55BlAAHbed20psF5ekabDFTsspZiarhLOyff_4u6pKnpDNhR540A5xpwXfJTqYtoimcDuQhyphenhyphenvIe7g4LcLH_rtyWlxDtBfrA/s1600/DSCN3860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOp47eTqcj5WDUqS3anhORu-cszdiM8BHQaYYVdHHcRCx55BlAAHbed20psF5ekabDFTsspZiarhLOyff_4u6pKnpDNhR540A5xpwXfJTqYtoimcDuQhyphenhyphenvIe7g4LcLH_rtyWlxDtBfrA/s1600/DSCN3860.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Dragoon Museum</span></td></tr>
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Buildings at the Castle also house the regimental museum for the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards (aka bagpipers!), and you can go in to listen to bagpipe music from different centuries and admire the crazy kilts and other outfits that these royal musicians wear.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvInCVr96RXrbwH-tMopaFofbPnV2jPMnLWCqLDAVHEwHk7UDLqIwr2ppAFqOq5s7IL5RRpU6PVGB5O1iZLmwI1FL76v-5ScK3p7qXntOvLGezrkBD8wLMSfmORUJx4SKJRIiuxWeX3E/s1600/DSCN3862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvInCVr96RXrbwH-tMopaFofbPnV2jPMnLWCqLDAVHEwHk7UDLqIwr2ppAFqOq5s7IL5RRpU6PVGB5O1iZLmwI1FL76v-5ScK3p7qXntOvLGezrkBD8wLMSfmORUJx4SKJRIiuxWeX3E/s1600/DSCN3862.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Staring down a cannon into the city</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik67KTNtVsO8kcY7KX3FVsOUlF-j9sev_iTn9RxdQfbJm0UwvNRV8mXfT6nhCiXPKZmws-ZnW4O6O4Pcme6M4t8y2A_nOwIuDoQmpNY453sLdIgbm_r6u1yZCW1tULqgtDhyphenhyphen4KzMNF7ac/s1600/DSCN3866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik67KTNtVsO8kcY7KX3FVsOUlF-j9sev_iTn9RxdQfbJm0UwvNRV8mXfT6nhCiXPKZmws-ZnW4O6O4Pcme6M4t8y2A_nOwIuDoQmpNY453sLdIgbm_r6u1yZCW1tULqgtDhyphenhyphen4KzMNF7ac/s1600/DSCN3866.JPG" height="400" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some of the Royal Armor collection</span></td></tr>
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Many exhibits showcase Scottish military history, displaying royal armor, medals of honor, weapons and other sorts of military paraphernalia, such as Mons Meg, the Castle's infamous cannon. Dating from the 15th century, <span style="text-align: center;">the cannon weighs over 7 tons and has a 20" caliber, making it one of the largest cannons in the world. First used in sieges, the cannon later was only used for ceremonial occasions until its barrel burst in 1680, permanently retiring the bombard.</span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6K36vmNBrHG4LnnGHMZuUa6DMzT6XX4VrIwEeFNMjFQrzbpGCji8F2z8BOLDSOffVksBI1LKxR9064m-1Bxu7ky5-Z-R6Zl0XiEyfHoZkZix_lDejzT6qQmSkbFhqZw4uey1OkjJwWs/s1600/DSCN3872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6K36vmNBrHG4LnnGHMZuUa6DMzT6XX4VrIwEeFNMjFQrzbpGCji8F2z8BOLDSOffVksBI1LKxR9064m-1Bxu7ky5-Z-R6Zl0XiEyfHoZkZix_lDejzT6qQmSkbFhqZw4uey1OkjJwWs/s1600/DSCN3872.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mons Meg can fire cannonballs weighing 330 lbs!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORdxbvKMXHgWgQzzSpXJuApts67q2m6ge46U3-frOeZ8TkJIt8bgXqouGVGEXXhGOPoSLtzSXo8M8avK0aY2dIQ8W8jXs6XsqPUlEYu4zU6tPH8kj7lKpSzwdleevmFKwK-4cnDEVskg/s1600/DSCN3869.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORdxbvKMXHgWgQzzSpXJuApts67q2m6ge46U3-frOeZ8TkJIt8bgXqouGVGEXXhGOPoSLtzSXo8M8avK0aY2dIQ8W8jXs6XsqPUlEYu4zU6tPH8kj7lKpSzwdleevmFKwK-4cnDEVskg/s1600/DSCN3869.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Scottish flag waving over the city</span></td></tr>
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The theme of our next day in Edinburgh was rather sinister: we visited Mary King's Close and the Edinburgh Dungeon....<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeEcAX92o0Pqu9XILDuCiMX-m2gamwBWCV6Ge6VApsRALaxeJh1EkUDjqPCbs_TEYcmL_o4yj6n30Ql9Fd4-5vTpHHNwLizlkIZJNEzQaAVc_H9RCZ_nnFwJdqTjIfbm-3jERbM5bO6g/s1600/edingburgh+mary+kings+close+main.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeEcAX92o0Pqu9XILDuCiMX-m2gamwBWCV6Ge6VApsRALaxeJh1EkUDjqPCbs_TEYcmL_o4yj6n30Ql9Fd4-5vTpHHNwLizlkIZJNEzQaAVc_H9RCZ_nnFwJdqTjIfbm-3jERbM5bO6g/s1600/edingburgh+mary+kings+close+main.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Inside Mary King's Close</span></td></tr>
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What's a "close," anyway? In British English, a close is a narrow street along which you'll find private houses or apartments and little shops. Who was Mary King? She was the daughter of Alexander King, a 17th century lawyer who owned multiple properties along the close - closes were usually named after a prominent resident or had something to do with the purpose of the street (ex: Fleshmarket Close was named after the meat market in Edinburgh and the close led to the city's slaughterhouse). Today, Mary King's Close is, quite literally, closed in - parts of the close's buildings were razed to make way for the Royal Exchange and City Chambers which were built on top of it. This close was originally 7 stories tall, and the picture above illustrates just how narrow it was - back in the Middle Ages, I don't think you'd be seeing much sunlight down at the bottom! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Plague Doctor and his raven-like costume</span></td></tr>
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Due to various factors, closes became quite unsanitary places to live. Overcrowding, unsanitary conditions (people shouting "gardyloo!" would ritualistically empty their chamber pots into the streets twice a day), vermin infestations and lack of clean air helped turn the closes into prime breeding grounds for the plague. </div>
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Originally thought to have been caused by "bad air," the plague was actually spread by fleas tagging along on rats who lived alongside the people in the closes. The fleas would jump off the rats and bite the humans, infecting them with one of two types of the plague: pneumonic (in the lungs) or bubonic (in the lymph nodes). Medicine during the Middle Ages wasn't quite as advanced as it is today, and consequently the chance you'd survive the plague once infected wasn't very high. Plague Doctors would treat the sick, dressed in a raven-like costume made of a floor-length leather robe and beaked mask (full of aromatic herbs thought to purify the air they breathed). They believed that this get-up would keep the "bad air" away from them and thus lessen the likelihood of them getting sick. Interestingly enough, it <i>did</i> protect them - from the fleas, not the air! In addition, if your family was sent off to quarantine once infected, a "foul clegner" (or "plague cleaner") would come to your home and burn your belongings in the center of a room, in hopes of cleansing the air and eradicating the sickness. Curiously, the smoke from the fire would make the rats (and their piggy-backing fleas) vacate the area, thus taking the source of the sickness with them. Two interesting instances of doing the right thing for the wrong reasons!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUkPYtDnB3s5h7LkrJ6bacHHr-FEVV7uzcUro4-YJjtJo3wT5qEhg_I4dKmyVwJO3kjDlBd_XmmdUa_8CxAUU_QjajIiC-Eg3FYtVjj9-sB1LAAlZtcveYIv7EUo0YmiqoJazpsnuF-A/s1600/4_about-illustration.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUkPYtDnB3s5h7LkrJ6bacHHr-FEVV7uzcUro4-YJjtJo3wT5qEhg_I4dKmyVwJO3kjDlBd_XmmdUa_8CxAUU_QjajIiC-Eg3FYtVjj9-sB1LAAlZtcveYIv7EUo0YmiqoJazpsnuF-A/s1600/4_about-illustration.jpg" height="400" width="347" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Gardyloo!</i> comes from the French <i>garde à l'eau</i> meaning "look out for the water"</span></td></tr>
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The tour through Mary King's Close gives an interesting look at how people lived on this street between the 16th and 19th centuries - you can check out some small homes and workshops to see just how cramped the people who lived here must have been! But visitor beware: the close is supposedly haunted - our tour guide shared some local legends and spooky locales within the street.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf03YK8Tc4GxNEt9O_Fs3XhYYrllU5niSddF-jwq93BEJ9LV31U7R6M5B3nuNrjmHcvrpek0HYvOtW4b52OVFd_5bXfqM0Z6W9CMlbg961gbywfqTtN57UFhS6STlNjFmFh6O8t7K0s_4/s1600/edinburgh-dungeon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf03YK8Tc4GxNEt9O_Fs3XhYYrllU5niSddF-jwq93BEJ9LV31U7R6M5B3nuNrjmHcvrpek0HYvOtW4b52OVFd_5bXfqM0Z6W9CMlbg961gbywfqTtN57UFhS6STlNjFmFh6O8t7K0s_4/s1600/edinburgh-dungeon.jpg" height="150" width="400" /></a></div>
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Next stop: the Edinburgh Dungeon! Over the course of an 80-minute tour of a haunted house-like attraction, live actors in period costume lead you through 1000 years of Scottish legend and lore. Each room of the tour has a different theme, from a medieval courtroom to cannibalistic swampland, torture chamber (where I was picked to be locked in a cage!) to anatomy lab. It's really a visit for all the senses: there are rank smells diffused to match the different surroundings, startling sound effects, total darkness, water jets and more. We got quite the education on William Wallace, the body snatchers Burke & Hare, and Half-Hangit Maggie, just to name a few. I won't give away all the surprises - if you're in the city you should check it out yourself! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A print showing witch hangings in Edinburgh during the 16th century</span></td></tr>
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To continue on the same gruesome wave, much like the famous Witch Trials that occurred in Salem back home in Massachusetts, Edinburgh got quite wrapped-up in the 16th century Witch Hunts as well. Many women accused of sorcery were given unfair trials and ultimately sentenced to death: by hanging, being burnt at the stake or drowning in the Nor Loch. In an effort to be "fair," the judges decided that they'd let the Nor Loch decide your fate: the witch's thumbs would be bound to her toes and she'd be thrown into the lake. If she sank, congratulations - you're not a witch! But you're also dead. If she floated, she must be a witch, so they'd burn her at the stake instead. Needless to say, Edinburgh has loads of ghost stories and haunted locations, for those who wish to believe...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdCzk7hLnjUIWPiff6GCCSH6Pc5nJslj_JZGlK8MXKphlAA_3RUZWC3LuxAJxpC9R77sHSFDvDPxxo8V77aBzegc4juH3Po-C6xPvCMoEPggFuq_OeqY3_cJKTbrRL3YZD5aLFvZixbE/s1600/DSCN3876.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdCzk7hLnjUIWPiff6GCCSH6Pc5nJslj_JZGlK8MXKphlAA_3RUZWC3LuxAJxpC9R77sHSFDvDPxxo8V77aBzegc4juH3Po-C6xPvCMoEPggFuq_OeqY3_cJKTbrRL3YZD5aLFvZixbE/s1600/DSCN3876.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Daffodils pepper the hillsides of Edinburgh's Princes Street Garden</span></td></tr>
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The following day, we departed Edinburgh and headed up to the Scottish highlands on our bus. We had a very informative guide named Helen with us for the day, and she imparted much useful - and some useless! - knowledge on me (she must have known I have a penchant for that!). I always find the story behind word origins fascinating, and now I can quickly share two with you:</div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Blackmail</b>: The infamous 17th century cattle driver Rob Roy MacGregor was essentially the Scottish Robin Hood - he stole cattle from some people and protected the cows of others. Farmers would pay Rob Roy tribute money (like with mob bosses) in order to protect their herds, usually composed of black cows - if they failed to pay, he'd be back to steal the cows in the night.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><b>Posh</b>: The story goes that rich passengers on ships travelling from England to India would write a special request on their ticket - P.O.S.H., short for <i>port out, starboard home</i>. They wanted a cabin on the port (left) side of the ship on their way to their destination, and a room on the starboard (right) side on their return trip in order to stay out of the heat of the sun. And now you know!</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwIZ43EhkLd87fw9O_TUHl5Q7Zavog_nbeTxNF9U9Ys8cbm0_N6GAxxHuXr5pIJiAhB4VJoxZ6M8X08sa7a_D1GZkhljcD7GQIfCFgvP5GoczRsaNuzEylFRZ4a2oZD1l5ZjE8RCQK_lY/s1600/Hugging+Grouse+-+Saltire+-+no+text.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwIZ43EhkLd87fw9O_TUHl5Q7Zavog_nbeTxNF9U9Ys8cbm0_N6GAxxHuXr5pIJiAhB4VJoxZ6M8X08sa7a_D1GZkhljcD7GQIfCFgvP5GoczRsaNuzEylFRZ4a2oZD1l5ZjE8RCQK_lY/s1600/Hugging+Grouse+-+Saltire+-+no+text.jpg" height="400" width="200" /></a></div>
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Our ultimate destination that day was Loch Lomond, where we were headed to take a picturesque cruise of the lake, but to break up the long drive through the Trossachs National Park, we stopped by the Famous Grouse Whiskey Distillery for an education on the infamous Scottish libation. The particular distillery we visited produces Glenturret Highland Single Malt Whiskey (meaning what's in the bottle came directly from this one place) in addition to supplying spirits for The Famous Grouse Blended Whiskey (whose mixture of whiskeys comes from various distilleries).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Casks of whiskey aging outside the blending room</span></td></tr>
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Not being a huge fan of whiskey, I didn't really have any idea how it was made. I had been on the Heineken Brewery tour in Amsterdam, though, and found that the process of making whiskey was similar to beer-making. The tour brings you through various buildings where the different steps in the distillation process take place, and we had a great guide to explain it all to our group. Unfortunately for our students, he sometimes used complicated words and his Scottish accent somewhat hindered their understanding. English teachers to the rescue! I took turns with another teacher interpreting what our guide had just explained in English and conveying the message to the students in French. Yes, I've been trained to be a medical interpreter, so the principle is the same, but no, I didn't brush up on my bilingual whiskey distillery vocabulary before I came! It was a little stressful at times (when you're not quite sure what some of the fancy terms mean in English, it can be difficult to accurately explain it in a second language!), but all in all I felt confident and am fairly certain the kids at least understood what I was saying more clearly than when our guide spoke!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_InpZ0e5EVi0lyDa7HV4EOjNxN94GVqb6RWx2BPKnRFpJoEjDCfpANS6-ayGo11oZHFhjZ79ddPetW9iwmuBGk7pKpsZXS2CKE77YWnRPI2Xr0hN4LJK37punicdo6fbNCb9nKz_REU/s1600/DSCN3877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_InpZ0e5EVi0lyDa7HV4EOjNxN94GVqb6RWx2BPKnRFpJoEjDCfpANS6-ayGo11oZHFhjZ79ddPetW9iwmuBGk7pKpsZXS2CKE77YWnRPI2Xr0hN4LJK37punicdo6fbNCb9nKz_REU/s1600/DSCN3877.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Towser, the Distillery Cat and Mouse Hunting World Champ</span></td></tr>
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There was a cool statue I saw on the way out of the distillery which payed tribute to Towser the cat. Living to the ripe old age of 24, this cat lived here in the Glenturret distillery where she was on mouse patrol - all the stores of barley which were needed to make the whiskey were very inviting to mice! She's credited as the World's Best Mouser after catching a whopping 28,899 mice during her career and is even mentioned in the Guinness Book of World Records.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Haymish the Highland Bull</span></td></tr>
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Speaking of animals, we took a couple stops during our voyage to Loch Lomond and there happened to be Scottish critters at each rest stop. Besides the omnipresent sheep, we saw the bizarre long-haired, curly-horned Highland cows, sheep dogs and Shetland ponies - I guess we got quite the Scottish farm experience!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0PGfniRCBbWOibY0sOBykN2e6he7bMPe6CvMnXPya-q2Fs3pOsmpsxP5uBihw9lh5TRMuCE8LZNNvA7cV2mi6SoYwdV56yFRQtbBkuCg1J4dO7whpjJYlQY6vC_KOeHCrmRr-hWJ7kMo/s1600/DSCN3889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0PGfniRCBbWOibY0sOBykN2e6he7bMPe6CvMnXPya-q2Fs3pOsmpsxP5uBihw9lh5TRMuCE8LZNNvA7cV2mi6SoYwdV56yFRQtbBkuCg1J4dO7whpjJYlQY6vC_KOeHCrmRr-hWJ7kMo/s1600/DSCN3889.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A Shetland pony</span></td></tr>
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After one heck of a twisty drive through forested roads in the Trossachs National Park, we finally reached Loch Lomond. Yes, it's that famous Scottish lake from the only Scottish song anyone ever knows (see below)....although why we had to learn it in 3rd grade music class is still beyond me! And no, there's no monster living in this one, unless Nessie came here for spring break too (Loch Ness is about 3 hours further north). A few Scots words that I learned during my travels - and which also appear in the song: loch = lake, bonnie = pretty, attractive or good; braes = hills or small mountains, ben = mountain (ex: Ben Lomond), and gloaming = dusk/twilight. </div>
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We made a pit-stop in the town of Luss to get a nice view of the lake before we continued down the shore to hop on our cruise...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Loch Lomond</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quaint cottages line the streets in Luss</span></td></tr>
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After a quick group photo, we finally made it to the boat and set off for our relaxing cruise - the lake was beautiful, despite the overcast weather!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The kids I had the pleasure of teaching and travelling with</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Cruising on Loch Lomond</span></td></tr>
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After taking in all the delightful scenery on the lake, we drove all the way back down to Edinburgh for our last night in Scotland. We had a couple hours in the morning the next day to do some souvenir shopping (I was overjoyed to find some Cadbury caramel eggs in a local supermarket, as Easter was coming and I had resigned myself to missing out this year - thankfully I was mistaken!) and even made it over to the National Museum of Scotland, home to Dolly the Cloned (and taxidermied) Sheep.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">An exhibit hall in the National Museum of Scotland</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dolly the Sheep, the first mammal to be cloned from an adult cell</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A statue of the terrier named Greyfriars Bobby, who loyally stood watch over his master's grave in the adjacent churchyard for 14 years</span></td></tr>
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After a whirlwind zip through the museum - and a delicious pulled pork sandwich from a restaurant called Oink! for lunch - we packed back into the bus bound for Newcastle where we'd take the ferry overnight again to get back home. By this point we were all exhausted - it had been a very busy trip - and our journey back to Forbach seemed to drag. Ok, it <i>did</i> drag: we left Edinburgh at noon, our ferry left the harbor at 5pm, we docked in the Netherlands at 9am the next morning and didn't make it back to good old Forbach til 6:30pm - over 30 hours after we had left Edinburgh! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunrise over the North Sea</span></td></tr>
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We arrived back in Forbach on Good Friday, but it didn't seem much like Easter weekend here by myself. Meike had moved back to Germany to continue her studies earlier in the month, so it's been rather quiet around here lately! I took advantage of the time to catch up on my sleep and begin the arduous task of packing. I only have one week (read: two days) left to work, and then I'm off to Paris to see my friends Lisa and Sam who are coming to visit for a week before we all fly back to the US. I can't believe it's been 8 months already - on one hand, it seems like I've been away from home forever, but on the other I feel like I've just gotten here! In any case, I'm really looking forward to seeing them and highly anticipating my return back home in just under 2 weeks; it's crazy how time flies!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Edinburgh's Memorial to Scottish novelist, playwright and poet Sir Walter Scott</span></td></tr>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-36158485651824162102014-04-05T05:54:00.003-04:002014-04-05T05:54:43.056-04:00Spring Break - Part 3: Brussels & Bruges<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Guildhalls at the Grote Markt in Brussels</span></td></tr>
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Next stop: Belgium! After meeting up with Meike, we boarded yet another train bound for Brussels, the capital not only of Belgium, but of the European Union as well. Located only an hour and twenty-five minutes away from Paris, Brussels is located in central Belgium, more or less between the country's two main regions: Flanders and Wallonia. To the south of Brussels is French-speaking Wallonia, and north of Brussels is Dutch-speaking Flanders (technically they speak Flemish, or "Belgian Dutch" - I always want to cough after hearing the word 'Flemish'!). Brussels is, in fact, officially a bilingual city, but most people here speak French, and pretty much everyone speaks English as well. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSiB4Jxz5gxf-E0D4UrirriZ0bG5AcRXXYTrYxM4Mi8UQnU_pebao_f5wml5V22dp8sOeJscTsr27Gw8KsgHVhyq8v28m_MSxxN7ScfGoEuabdewz9ty4WSb1ezBdiJIW2laiEe0vWaE/s1600/IMG_20140312_200532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A Map of Belgium</span></td></tr>
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"Belgium" comes from the Latin <i>Gallia Belgica</i>, the name of the Roman province that once existed there. With such ancient roots, Belgium has a rich, albeit bloody, past. Situated between France and Germany, Belgium suffered greatly during both World Wars but today is a melting pot of culture and history. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Musée de la Ville de Bruxelles</span></td></tr>
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Upon arriving in Brussels and checking into our hostel, we headed straight to the Grote Markt/Grande Place/Main Square. Named a UNESCO World Heritage Site, visitors to the Grote Markt are instantly awed by its stunning architecture. Surrounded by guildhalls, the Town Hall and the Breadhouse, the square is incredibly beautiful and a must-see in Brussels. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Town Hall</span></td></tr>
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Not too far from Grote Markt is the most famous boy in Brussels: Manneken-Pis! Known as "Little Pee Man" in Marols (the Dutch dialect dating from the rule of the Habsburgs), Manneken-Pis is a rather unimpressive, 2-foot tall bronze statue of a boy peeing into a fountain. He is one of the famous symbols of the city, however, and there are always throngs of tourists clustered around his fountain (us included!).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The one, the only: Manneken-Pis!</span></td></tr>
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The original statue dates from 1619, but the current version is much newer - since he gets stolen every once in a while, the latest Manneken-Pis was "born" in 1965. (Fret not - the original has been restored and is housed in the Breadhouse for visitors to see...more on that in a minute!) While the exact reason behind this particular fountain is unknown (there are many legends, all including a boy urinating on someone...), statues of this nature were often erected in the Low Countries by the tanners' guilds. The statues would mark a collecting point for urine (poor people could sell theirs to the tanneries) which was used in the stinky process of tanning leather....you learn something every day!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Manneken-Peace" street art</span></td></tr>
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Manneken-Pis is so well-loved throughout Brussels that the Bruxellois have paid homage to him all over the city - one example is this street mural entitled "Manneken-Peace," although I can't really figure out why! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A selection of all the waffles you could try! (Plus a chocolate version of Manneken-Pis, of course)</span></td></tr>
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Another Belgian staple: waffles! You can't visit the country and <i>not</i> try their delicious waffles - all you can smell while wandering the streets is the aroma of these sweet, sugary pastries! There are apparently multiple types of Belgian waffles, including the Brussels waffle, the Liège waffle, and the <i>stroopwafel</i>. While I don't pretend to be a waffle aficionado, I'm pretty sure we indulged multiple times in the Liège variety. Much to my surprise, the "Belgian waffles" we have in the US aren't anything like those prepared here: Liège waffles are made more from a type of bread dough than actual batter, and inside the dough are little mini sugar cubes which caramelize deliciously during cooking, making for a sweet treat that doesn't need any additional toppings to be enjoyed. Never one to pass up on local cuisine, I of course sampled quite a variety during our 4 day trip! (Although I must say, the plain variety takes the cake - or waffle, as it were!)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike's strawberry and chocolate smothered Belgian waffle</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Enjoying my waffle with two types of chocolate sauce</span></td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">Stuffed full of waffles we continued on over to
the Cathedral of St. Michael and St. Gudula. Begun as a simple chapel
during the 9th century, the church slowly evolved into a grandiose cathedral
and was finally finished in 1519. While the church is built in the Gothic
style, it lacks the characteristic rose window above the central portal. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Brussels Cathedral</span></td></tr>
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While the church is beautiful both inside and out, there was a pretty little park situated right in front of it that was covered with daffodils and periwinkle blue flowers. I'm not used to seeing flowers in early March - back home in Massachusetts our yard was still covered with a blanket of snow! - so it was pretty refreshing to get an early taste of spring this year (even if that means an early dose of allergies as well).</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAIpD7dxxHZ0zUFOxdeyvqyvlUcVJB2_x9dzc1rncv8CyCDZkZNjOcQ2i-L8kzi1LCh1JOaYL5e4RZFcrDPRsg1MQJaSpc0r-cD3PJqxPt6UiSnB0LfmW_pt3so2GSaEQ0rhHN-hM7eM/s1600/DSCN3585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAIpD7dxxHZ0zUFOxdeyvqyvlUcVJB2_x9dzc1rncv8CyCDZkZNjOcQ2i-L8kzi1LCh1JOaYL5e4RZFcrDPRsg1MQJaSpc0r-cD3PJqxPt6UiSnB0LfmW_pt3so2GSaEQ0rhHN-hM7eM/s1600/DSCN3585.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Spring has sprung in Belgium!</span></td></tr>
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We were falsely led to believe that the city's art museums were open late the night we were first there - thank you outdated guidebook! In any case, on our way to discover that they were closed we got to see another part of the city which was filled with more little parks and impressive architecture, complete with the Royal Palace.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDBjF0FJnd4xTTXan_PEdo8ehFq2dKIDTEbOqWymdxFya1lVU6W0Sw-6sbPfy9F1yp4EhLucKlcREsnETxdS-inMBSM-_9CNoHSOiUWtVYtHfn_4vedIsND-H39zAwiQtOVzVSCFsCJSU/s1600/DSCN3591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDBjF0FJnd4xTTXan_PEdo8ehFq2dKIDTEbOqWymdxFya1lVU6W0Sw-6sbPfy9F1yp4EhLucKlcREsnETxdS-inMBSM-_9CNoHSOiUWtVYtHfn_4vedIsND-H39zAwiQtOVzVSCFsCJSU/s1600/DSCN3591.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Palais Royal de Bruxelles</span></td></tr>
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We started our second day in Brussels with a trip to the City History Museum, whose main highlight is a wardrobe showcasing a rotating fraction of the over 800 costumes belonging to Manneken-Pis. For whatever reason, foreign dignitaries visiting Brussels often come bearing gifts - usually a traditional costume from their country for the statue to wear. The statue is regularly dressed (you can view a calendar of when he'll be wearing what) and makes for a unique photo op every time you visit the city - although he happened to be going <i>au naturel</i> the day we were there! He wears military and soccer uniforms, Elvis getups, Santa's red suit, outfits belonging to comic book characters, Dracula's cape...you name it, he probably has it in his closet!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTz9bdXw82v-vK2Hr-sw7xfiq42q3FDGcXUWOjdt7yGKFNQEESC2xBOrFf2VPvQ8clo_EhqVg5Qq0k-uXcyf6xz8seYlKrA82nQCP8ezxG-xdi5lBS1gAoj5xfSlI30I48u-7O9iMtbQ/s1600/DSCN3602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTz9bdXw82v-vK2Hr-sw7xfiq42q3FDGcXUWOjdt7yGKFNQEESC2xBOrFf2VPvQ8clo_EhqVg5Qq0k-uXcyf6xz8seYlKrA82nQCP8ezxG-xdi5lBS1gAoj5xfSlI30I48u-7O9iMtbQ/s1600/DSCN3602.JPG" height="400" width="295" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some of Manneken-Pis' costumes</span></td></tr>
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The rest of the museum showed various crafts produced in the city - lots of ceramics, paintings and textiles. Never one to resist a good pun, I snapped a picture of this vegetable - the translation of "Brussels sprout" in French is <i>chou de Bruxelles</i>, literally "Brussels cabbage"...hence this ceramic cabbage...in Brussells...please try to suppress your laughter at my cheesy joke!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyFwcvjLkZWxm2LfBEnJZPdv17RBQislKAdr8zwakYjSxT2Rnm_bVijTl-A7PjW1LfnfsUdjNPc51GSEZjHsFXsEH95fTGYPHylGUaH6KyhKcKgDB0S2tYn6oXaOT4slaxu96EmdTjsU/s1600/DSCN3599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyFwcvjLkZWxm2LfBEnJZPdv17RBQislKAdr8zwakYjSxT2Rnm_bVijTl-A7PjW1LfnfsUdjNPc51GSEZjHsFXsEH95fTGYPHylGUaH6KyhKcKgDB0S2tYn6oXaOT4slaxu96EmdTjsU/s1600/DSCN3599.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Chou de Bruxelles!</span></i></td></tr>
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Brussels is an important city on the European scale - it is the capital of the European Union, after all! Consequently, the European Parliament is here, located on the outskirts of the city, so we decided to swing by to check it out.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHK6zanAPi2QAPcNH__aNpIk1GKc-LadGPfdgcDEgaC4mhmIMFnL7o6a99kMNsS5TXKrS8PEsyHKKW8gQYWenwI1ANXgCzGOIRuoyEirpHnJU8f0iBIWUWb0wu1XcMFYgGOkz7f1sOAY/s1600/Europe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHK6zanAPi2QAPcNH__aNpIk1GKc-LadGPfdgcDEgaC4mhmIMFnL7o6a99kMNsS5TXKrS8PEsyHKKW8gQYWenwI1ANXgCzGOIRuoyEirpHnJU8f0iBIWUWb0wu1XcMFYgGOkz7f1sOAY/s1600/Europe.jpg" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Flag of the European Union</span></td></tr>
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We had to wait forever to get in to the European Parliament's visitors' center and after all was said and done we were actually pretty disappointed. It's free to get in, so of course it's always packed. We happened to be there on a day where there were multiple school groups clustered all throughout the exhibit halls which explain exactly how the European Parliament works. I had taken European Politics to fulfill a social science requirement in college - it was boring to me then and six years later amazingly I found it equally dry! - so at least I had a bit of a background on how it all works. It was slightly frustrating though, because all of the signs/articles/interactive displays were posted in all the official languages of the EU (somewhere around 24, I think?), making it time-consuming to sift through to find the panel(s) you can understand and nearly impossible when there are kids running around yelling and doing a scavenger hunt for information. In any case, I can now say I've been there, done that...and have no need to ever go back!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2GYUXpAsVjAM-Uvwx848_iuKciDxQWKlMMcDJvwcpf5cUuAGfqPZw5pR00iufu3BSMv9XnfiXsLJvJBVYTWpkeRCojc_DzgbskgJciGk_brRHvcaXeXhUzul9zwWSQHsOj-dKvtqxyg/s1600/DSCN3606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2GYUXpAsVjAM-Uvwx848_iuKciDxQWKlMMcDJvwcpf5cUuAGfqPZw5pR00iufu3BSMv9XnfiXsLJvJBVYTWpkeRCojc_DzgbskgJciGk_brRHvcaXeXhUzul9zwWSQHsOj-dKvtqxyg/s1600/DSCN3606.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Faces of the European Union at the European Parliament building</span></td></tr>
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Next stop: The Atomium! Informally known as "The Eiffel Tower of Brussels," this bizarre building was constructed for the 1958 World's Fair in Brussels and represents an iron crystal magnified some 165 billion times. Random, I know. You can visit five of the spheres, including the uppermost which provides a panoramic view of the city of Brussels, but it was a bit pricey so we decided to just take in the view from the outside instead. Little did we know, we were in for a bit of free entertainment!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbHv5gzNLhnNLa0duunqFp_G1qsiCvgf_Bdjvjk6_pw_JnLe2et6Hgtrfzv-xprQQgwwQ2fWDl4zIXRiyyhBQr_w2JhA0bYfB_PWuHu9Uh-S433yZ3mhXoXWAyA9Wwe_XImfU1y8SJhQ/s1600/DSCN3619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbHv5gzNLhnNLa0duunqFp_G1qsiCvgf_Bdjvjk6_pw_JnLe2et6Hgtrfzv-xprQQgwwQ2fWDl4zIXRiyyhBQr_w2JhA0bYfB_PWuHu9Uh-S433yZ3mhXoXWAyA9Wwe_XImfU1y8SJhQ/s1600/DSCN3619.JPG" height="400" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At The Atomium</span></td></tr>
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Standing underneath the Atomium, I was looking up to take the following picture when I saw something strange on my camera's screen...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6hvYidR3PU6KIv3OT9KzN2Iy2rlix5tCMzbf7kT_H1H2iV-YzvOtj-zVVUhjdUtgo68cJWBZ9sGCCGvWKk0XjhjNkhFJGhpzELiqsGVfdMf_ox_38_bdgcdoD97MPqA1EG6fwFGnXmz8/s1600/DSCN3610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6hvYidR3PU6KIv3OT9KzN2Iy2rlix5tCMzbf7kT_H1H2iV-YzvOtj-zVVUhjdUtgo68cJWBZ9sGCCGvWKk0XjhjNkhFJGhpzELiqsGVfdMf_ox_38_bdgcdoD97MPqA1EG6fwFGnXmz8/s1600/DSCN3610.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The reason I was looking up in the first place...</span></td></tr>
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Wait, what's that dangling from one of the spheres? It appears to be a paramedic accompanying a litter which is being lowered down from a trap door...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqr0E7HfRscqDzNH7V8tZRt_suhYF_bWS6W8ouyeuLRD5AUQ6aUBf03WDCIhjKjOtEr503vHTF0ztp8k4Srk6jtdBVDun4U9lyB0pd_9_7ZcA9X6lvey0BZ_2lomhdrPkI3hYJbGeIkE/s1600/DSCN3613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqr0E7HfRscqDzNH7V8tZRt_suhYF_bWS6W8ouyeuLRD5AUQ6aUBf03WDCIhjKjOtEr503vHTF0ztp8k4Srk6jtdBVDun4U9lyB0pd_9_7ZcA9X6lvey0BZ_2lomhdrPkI3hYJbGeIkE/s1600/DSCN3613.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hmm...</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD8zEaxOXv_ywapZTME_vGhTejAjpsIVVinvTpF6s1uRXeQlNZ0AEnU_84tHU-yj3ZaRIpywjLtPsmQFNvOrJTzODjuNr2MXWjP19JJsVDg51weqv0YyR1fSe_8EA8GJm_jBjdVaB-TYM/s1600/DSCN3614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD8zEaxOXv_ywapZTME_vGhTejAjpsIVVinvTpF6s1uRXeQlNZ0AEnU_84tHU-yj3ZaRIpywjLtPsmQFNvOrJTzODjuNr2MXWjP19JJsVDg51weqv0YyR1fSe_8EA8GJm_jBjdVaB-TYM/s1600/DSCN3614.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quite a ways up there!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFNyhzjB8kDZmCrrMcANK5mFQOOqks9aT-FDyrA8Cxu0Y3tQ1TeBnaON91ug1HFRKUVV9xQVpMcW4sWDwdNopuOoeGAAn6y6EBZ5gce8ROBMIo1csNm5LPfjlaZjOst_c0sPDybxFedw/s1600/DSCN3615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFNyhzjB8kDZmCrrMcANK5mFQOOqks9aT-FDyrA8Cxu0Y3tQ1TeBnaON91ug1HFRKUVV9xQVpMcW4sWDwdNopuOoeGAAn6y6EBZ5gce8ROBMIo1csNm5LPfjlaZjOst_c0sPDybxFedw/s1600/DSCN3615.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then the news showed up...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_gnhnPsr4fIuWPh8ajm7JpbjUE_iBfEnnzu93MpPSbaLrx_ZB37uTU5MT1vh57y2esWKCC4DFcEIrAxQHYbWTwcvleptT_ZlJBHB10qIBmFC-S1lYhxscW_FHJQE7CQQjIGie1qgTexk/s1600/DSCN3616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_gnhnPsr4fIuWPh8ajm7JpbjUE_iBfEnnzu93MpPSbaLrx_ZB37uTU5MT1vh57y2esWKCC4DFcEIrAxQHYbWTwcvleptT_ZlJBHB10qIBmFC-S1lYhxscW_FHJQE7CQQjIGie1qgTexk/s1600/DSCN3616.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">After a few tense minutes they finally made it to the ground</span></td></tr>
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We weren't able to figure out what exactly was going on, but there was a groaning person inside the litter who was quickly whisked away in an ambulance after making the hazardous journey down to the ground. The news cameras were all over it, but try as we might we couldn't find anything online about what had gone down - more specifically, why didn't they just take the elevator back down? In any case, I'm assuming it was something pretty serious if a perilous exit through a trap door was necessary....</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl37N_Bnw_XqY0hJ9Vj3dt9z50yvwvb9i5k8is0qcI10qYoM8I7umehXzjbrpTRTxpYy1W24xIXuEBqH6x20yTQzP_5S3055eZ_7Pmfqxuit8-8N2BvVA_avrxX6sRwuJlsmVmaFMROy0/s1600/DSCN3608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl37N_Bnw_XqY0hJ9Vj3dt9z50yvwvb9i5k8is0qcI10qYoM8I7umehXzjbrpTRTxpYy1W24xIXuEBqH6x20yTQzP_5S3055eZ_7Pmfqxuit8-8N2BvVA_avrxX6sRwuJlsmVmaFMROy0/s1600/DSCN3608.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The city's cherry trees were in full bloom - <i>magnifique</i>!</span></td></tr>
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As I mentioned earlier, Belgium has many famous food specialties - chocolate included! Brussels is home to the Musée du Cacao et Chocolat, a museum explaining the rich history linking Belgium and the chocolate-making industry. (Everyone knows Godiva and Leonidas chocolates, I'm sure!) For a small entry fee, you can visit multiple floors dedicated to the journey a cocoa bean makes on its way to becoming a delicious chocolate candy. There are different chocolate chips to sample at various parts of your visit, all made with beans of different global origins and composed of various percentages of cocoa - it was basically like a wine tasting but with chocolate! Signs at each of the tasting stations alerted you to chocolates that tasted earthy, peppery, smoky, etc. - quite the education! The tour ended in the kitchen, where a <i>chocolatière</i> demonstrated how to make <i>pralinés</i>, the famous filled chocolates invented here in Brussels by Jean Neuhaus in 1912. It was a cool museum and a yummy way to spend part of our afternoon!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnCHLuWPMK3TAZ_ohO2OyoY6lBIQ7InCE8GalkowrnpJwLWd969BgoVqADvnuQMBwCrxFvqRhYguqpJ4oWf9ncHMJq1HRiFCUhyphenhyphenAMsG-FntJvk06_XcW1Or0kPZWcjfZMDn85Pl-RGyZw/s1600/DSCN3620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnCHLuWPMK3TAZ_ohO2OyoY6lBIQ7InCE8GalkowrnpJwLWd969BgoVqADvnuQMBwCrxFvqRhYguqpJ4oWf9ncHMJq1HRiFCUhyphenhyphenAMsG-FntJvk06_XcW1Or0kPZWcjfZMDn85Pl-RGyZw/s1600/DSCN3620.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our chocolate-making demo</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hats and dresses made entirely from chocolate</span></td></tr>
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Our gastronomic tour of Belgium continued with dinner - a heaping portion of <i>moules frites</i>! The origin? Mussels are cheap seafood common along the Flemish coast, and fried potatoes were often eaten during the Belgian winters when there was limited fresh food available. Put them together and you've got dish that you can find in nearly all Belgian and French restaurants - surveys have shown that in France it's second in popularity only to duck. The mussels are steamed (and also served) in a big pot in one of a variety of sauces. The most common choice, <span style="line-height: 107%;"><i>moules marinières, </i>is a mixture of white wine, shallots, butter and parsley - in Belgium they added celery to that mix too. The fries are then double-fried in animal fat, served golden and crispy with a side of creamy dijon mayonnaise to dip them in - no ketchup here! I'm a big fan of mussels, so I took full advantage of this local specialty during a couple of meals.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Moules frites </i>and a glass of crisp <i>vin blanc</i>, mmm!</span></td></tr>
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With two days of vacation left, Meike and I left Brussels bright and early the next morning and headed northeast up to Bruges. Known as "The Venice of the North," Bruges is famous for its wealth of canals, bridges, and medieval architecture - very similar to Amsterdam (minus a few canals), in my opinion. Contrary to Brussels, however, in Bruges the preferred language is Flemish/Dutch or English (not French!). It was actually a nice break for me to go back to speaking English for two days! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Grote Markt, Bruges</span></td></tr>
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Just like Brussels, Bruges also has a main square called the Grote Markt - it's considerably larger than the one in Brussels and has a wider variety of buildings surrounding it. The city itself isn't very large, but you can easily fill two days just wandering along all the canals, eating and checking out its many museums.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Provincial Courthouse in Bruges</span></td></tr>
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The city's most famous landmark is surely the Belfry Tower (Belfort, in Flemish), and you'd really be missing out if you visited the city without climbing all the way to the top to get a bird's-eye view of your surroundings. After a brief wait to get inside the building (only 70 people can be in the tower at any given time), a <i>very</i> steep and narrow staircase with 366 steps awaits! Thankfully there are various rooms to take a break in on the way up - one which formerly contained the city's archives, one containing the music box type drum which runs the bells, and the bell room/observatory itself. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Belfort (the famous Belfry Tower)</span></td></tr>
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The earliest parts of the tower which stands today date from 1280, with the more recent parts at the very top dating from the 1820's. Historically, the tower was used as a library for archives, a watchtower for fires, and of course its bells helped regulate daily life in the city. Different tones were rung to announce everything from the start and end of work shifts, fire alarms, various religious, social and political events, and of course the time. Believe it or not, the bells have rung at least every 15 minutes for the past seven and a half centuries! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The "music box" inside the bell tower</span></td></tr>
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The room with the massive drum which controls the melody of the bells was really interesting. Gears, pulleys, levers, ropes and wires all formed a head-spinning contraption to control the 47 bells which ring in the room above. The music box can be programmed to play different songs - on the metal drum are pegs (one column of pegs for each bell) which are arranged to lift hammers in a certain order, and thus ring the bells in song. The song is changed every two years just to spice things up! We happened to be in the music box room when the drum started moving and the bells began to ring - quite the noisy spectacle!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Inside the bell room, looking up into the ensemble of engineering rigged up to ring them all</span></td></tr>
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We didn't get the chance to hear the bells from the upper bell room, but the video below gives you a good idea of how all the machinery works to ring the bells, quite impressive!</div>
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And of course the view from the top makes all the steps worth it! Here's what the city looks like when you're perched 83 meters (nearly 275 feet) up off the ground...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Canals wind through the medieval buildings clustered below</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Burg, as seen from high above</span></td></tr>
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In need of a little sustenance after our hike up and down the belfry, we stopped by a chocolate shop and each bought a delicious <i>rijstwafel</i> (basically a giant ball of dark chocolate covered Rice Krisipies). Re-energized, we set off to roam the canals and check out some more cultural attractions.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Just me and my </span><i style="text-align: justify;">rijstwafel</i><span style="text-align: justify;">!</span></span></td></tr>
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And now for an art history ramble...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Michelangelo's sculpture today known as <i>The Bruges Madonna</i></span></td></tr>
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Inside the small and unsuspecting church called Our Lady of Bruges sits an artistic masterpiece - after speaking with a Belgian I was told that she's as important to Bruges as the <i>Mona Lisa</i> is to Paris. Sculpted out of marble by Michelangelo in 1506, the <i>Bruges Madonna</i> is known for being the artist's only sculpture to leave Italy during his lifetime. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The sculpture <i>in situ</i> at Our Lady of Bruges </span></td></tr>
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Even though I minored in Art History, I had only recently learned of the sculpture while reading Robert Edsel's book "The Monuments Men" over the winter. (I was surprised to later find out that this book was turned into a movie and recently released back in the US - news doesn't travel so quickly over here in France!) <br />
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To make a long story short (and to prompt you to read this fascinating book to find out more), there was a special group of Allied soldiers created during World War II called the Monuments Men, charged with locating and safeguarding Europe's cultural and artistic treasures from the atrocities of war. The <i>Bruges Madonna</i> had been taken by the Nazis as a spoil of war and was hidden deep inside an Austrian salt mine at Altausee - they had actually stolen it from the church by wrapping it inside a mattress and stuffing it in the back of an unassuming Red Cross truck before driving it to Austria. Thankfully, the Monuments Men came upon a huge hoard of art inside the salt mine and recovered this particular, successfully returning it to Bruges where all can admire it today. Anyone who is a fan of World War II era history and/or a lover of art will find Edsel's book captivating - I highly recommend it and am looking forward to seeing the movie once I return home. <a href="http://www.dw.de/monuments-men-tracking-looted-treasures/a-17218246">Here's</a> a link to an article which gives further information if you're interested!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX95O28YAiecX8s5nO_p6qgVuoWgAsZK1r3ztyEXnNyhe6aTXhtf5_mqJ5XlPkfR5-5-f1FbgJlBCpMTQDwlADTq3hkHvCe-4pEy3kClf2qwqC3OMbtNSg3MOWlgKW7KNNtp-LT1qc6GQ/s1600/bruges+madonna+salt+mine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX95O28YAiecX8s5nO_p6qgVuoWgAsZK1r3ztyEXnNyhe6aTXhtf5_mqJ5XlPkfR5-5-f1FbgJlBCpMTQDwlADTq3hkHvCe-4pEy3kClf2qwqC3OMbtNSg3MOWlgKW7KNNtp-LT1qc6GQ/s1600/bruges+madonna+salt+mine.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Monuments Men securing the <i>Bruges Madonna</i> to ropes and pulleys in order to get it out of the salt mine and back to Bruges</span></td></tr>
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So, being the nerdy art and history lover that I am, I was thrilled to get the chance to pop in and see this statue. You can only view it at a distance, but it was beautiful nonetheless!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjptVU8FZiasGSPRo3-9U-isI5jbdl55gQrrKWOJncyD7L7BhbU8CsVBGGQxxziPWzB8A2IGaV2BWr7WsSD5U_XCqNiX4zL-dszNq8hNP-rw13741R_XrU6g80YnXDyXsK49nz50-vxqV8/s1600/IMG_20140314_172532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjptVU8FZiasGSPRo3-9U-isI5jbdl55gQrrKWOJncyD7L7BhbU8CsVBGGQxxziPWzB8A2IGaV2BWr7WsSD5U_XCqNiX4zL-dszNq8hNP-rw13741R_XrU6g80YnXDyXsK49nz50-vxqV8/s1600/IMG_20140314_172532.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A canal with the belfry in the background</span></td></tr>
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We rounded out our evening with a delicious meal at a restaurant called "Poules Moules" (Chicken & Mussels, in French) which was located on Simon Stevinplein. Best mussels I had during our whole trip - I got them with a garlic cream sauce this time, <i>délicieuses! </i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Simon Stevinplein</span></td></tr>
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We still had plenty to see on our last day in Bruges before our 3pm train left to take us back to Forbach. We steered away from the main square to a secondary plaza just down the street called the Burg, home to the Bishop's Palace, Town Hall, Old Civil Registry, and the Basilica of the Holy Blood. The latter is famous because of its relic: an alleged vial of Christ's blood. Said to have been collected by Joseph of Arimathea (the guy who donated his stone tomb to Jesus), legend has it that the relic was then transferred from the Holy Land to Bruges during the Second Crusade in the 12th century. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Basiliek Van Het Heilig-Bloed</i>, the Basilica of the Holy Blood</span></td></tr>
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While it's free to get inside the church, the relic is guarded by a priest who sits behind a massive money box surrounded by posters in every imaginable language trying to guilt you in to donate money - just like in the Middle Ages, churches depend upon the faithful's donations to see relics. There's even a parade through the city called the Procession of the Holy Blood which takes place each year on Ascension Day. For this parade, the relic is secured inside a 66-pound gold, sliver, and jewel-encrusted case and walked through the city - they take this relic pretty seriously here. There was a long line and I didn't feel like paying money to see a crusty scab in an old glass tube, so we just checked out the church and kept moving. You can't take pictures in the basilica, so here's a pic I found online so you can see what the fuss is all about...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tada - The Holy Blood Relic</span></td></tr>
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Continuing along the canals, we happened upon a gorgeous little area of Bruges quite by accident. Founded in 1245, the Begijnhof (<i>béguinage</i>, in French) is a peaceful walled community of houses used by Beguines, or nuns, who wanted to serve God without completely leaving their home community or having to live in a strict environment like a convent. Today it's home to sisters belonging to the Order of St. Benedict, and springtime visitors who wind their way into the central courtyard are in for a treat.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A house at the Begijnhof</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Begijnhof's quad</span></td></tr>
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Whitewashed buildings form a rectangle around a garden full of tall, leaning trees and absolutely peppered with daffodils! It was extremely beautiful, quiet and calm - quite a treat to stumble upon! Visitors here can also check out the tiny chapel and the Begijnhof museum, but we were content just to stroll along the paths through the radiant flowers.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Snuggle bunnies</span></td></tr>
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Our wanderings brought us through various Saturday markets as well - you can find clothing, flowers, antiques, freshly-butchered meat, produce, and even live animals here. I especially liked the market which was selling ducks, rabbits, chicks, guinea pigs and other farm animals, so cute! We wrapped up our visit to Bruges with a delicious bratwurst sandwich from the market and a walk back to the train station - I had all I could do to stay awake on our 5-hour journey back to Forbach via Brussels and Paris (the minute I step foot inside a train, all I want to do is doze off!). All in all, I had a great time travelling throughout Belgium: there are loads of beautiful sights and all the yummy food you could ask for! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike and I in Bruges</span></td></tr>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com1Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-73310192050454601382014-03-23T11:07:00.000-04:002014-03-23T11:07:21.769-04:00Spring Break - Part 2: Madrid, Paris & Forbach<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKyX-KKBEFYODKCbLL76U8DMsaLQJ-X4oWqWdY5qRJExTdihTbzso0w47t1J9XBAGpJRvok9gy2mt0bnjPSm1zlss6WRdAXc128f0snUmDevMuHn14w0sJAI-ioJXBUxd_eTiRCCcM5oo/s1600/DSCN3489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKyX-KKBEFYODKCbLL76U8DMsaLQJ-X4oWqWdY5qRJExTdihTbzso0w47t1J9XBAGpJRvok9gy2mt0bnjPSm1zlss6WRdAXc128f0snUmDevMuHn14w0sJAI-ioJXBUxd_eTiRCCcM5oo/s1600/DSCN3489.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunshine and flowers in Madrid</span></td></tr>
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We said our goodbyes to Morocco and jetted back across the ocean to Spain - we were headed to Madrid for the next 3 days. After a long day of travel (taxi from our riad to the airport, waiting at the airport, plane delayed an hour, train from the airport to our place in Madrid), we finally made it to the apartment we were renting, freshened up and set out to see what the city had to offer. It was already getting dark and we were hungry, so it was time to find some <i>tapas</i>! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Tapas</i> and sangria - yum!</span></td></tr>
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We wandered down the Gran Vía (essentially the Times Square or Piccadilly Circus of Madrid - flashing billboards, chain stores and restaurants, etc.) and eventually made it over to Puerto del Sol and Plaza Mayor where we decided on a place to eat. And what a feast we had! After getting our hands on a pitcher of sangria, we picked out a couple <i>tapas</i> to share. <i>Tapas</i> are basically plates of Spanish appetizers that you order and share between everyone at your table. They can be hot or cold and are all delicious! We got a plate of herb-marinated <i>aceitunas </i>(delicious green olives), c<i>alamares</i> (you guessed it: battered and fried squid rings), <i>patatas bravas</i> (fried potato cubes served with a spicy tomato/mayo sauce), a plate of Iberian ham and Manchego cheese, and a mini seafood <i>paella</i> to split. Stuffed full of <i>tapas</i> and sleepy from our long day of travelling, we called it a night, eager to further check out the city in the morning.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Plaza Mayor</span></td></tr>
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We lucked out weather-wise during our trip: every day was warm and sunny! In my town in France, it rains almost daily for at least a little while, so needless to say it was quite refreshing to enjoy some uninterrupted sunshine and be able to roam around without needing a jacket!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Flowers at Puerto del Sol</span></td></tr>
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Heading across town, we decided to swing by the Palacio Real, the official residence of the Spanish royal family in Madrid (although King Juan Carlos and his family prefer living in a more modest home just outside the city). Construction began on this massive palace in 1738 - it contains more than 3,400 rooms and includes a modest 1.45 million square feet of living space! The tours of the palace showcase only a fraction of the rooms, but they are intricately furnished and quite a sight to behold. The dining room, for instance, contains a huge table and enough place settings to pack it with over 300 guests! You can also visit the royal armory and marvel at the intricately carved guns, crossbows, cannons and suits of armor which belonged to royal families throughout the centuries. Unfortunately, you can't take pictures anywhere inside the palace - so you'll have to go check it out for yourself!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the Palacio Real</span></td></tr>
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And apparently, a royal peacock also resides at the palace - if you're lucky, you'll get to watch him dance around shake his tail feathers!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCYBDr3ly0N-DLiOe5Ci2SLEa9VPfN-BlEdzzqDSOyjGpzr5mtBqg7K8u7AC_vxww56iBQkIk7kLMFRGmjb1CgGDu6PwljhKRMii5peYqZkubLMMmZHBB16Wruti7AaIrS2U0PciH8W0/s1600/DSCN3498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCYBDr3ly0N-DLiOe5Ci2SLEa9VPfN-BlEdzzqDSOyjGpzr5mtBqg7K8u7AC_vxww56iBQkIk7kLMFRGmjb1CgGDu6PwljhKRMii5peYqZkubLMMmZHBB16Wruti7AaIrS2U0PciH8W0/s1600/DSCN3498.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dancing for his audience</span></td></tr>
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Directly across from Palacio Real is Madrid's cathedral, Santa María la Real de La Almudena. Rather modern when compared to the much older Gothic cathedrals famous throughout France, for example, construction on Madrid's cathedral begun in 1883 and wasn't finished until 1993. The church sports a baroque façade in two-tone gray and white stone to match the Palace which it faces. While the decor inside the church is rather simple, its stained glass windows cast radiant light on the floor as their vibrant pigments become electrified by the sunlight. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_XEj_d9cXVhX2zoTb2pbfO1hSsbLM-ofBkj_Emk_DuOOOGNQpf0BWhEU6LyPTAexeQMFqAi6PsBz_-G8RrmuFNw99hc2CSHZHJ9GQxf6aLjFYr4Nvg24EeniVgONaR1JC8DgdtBpkug/s1600/DSCN3507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_XEj_d9cXVhX2zoTb2pbfO1hSsbLM-ofBkj_Emk_DuOOOGNQpf0BWhEU6LyPTAexeQMFqAi6PsBz_-G8RrmuFNw99hc2CSHZHJ9GQxf6aLjFYr4Nvg24EeniVgONaR1JC8DgdtBpkug/s1600/DSCN3507.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The cathedral's main altar</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjISw-NMw1_qJs3fFcf_3fgQk1OTh-yMtKTL1_CpNQokRgPUA-vFOUVatgaM3m6WgEeVX_qccoQQEWtCz8ubnaBkRKirZrOfkWVM0YwNe5jgMt7SC1nqxQvcUseYA-7JN-r9jU9hUy-XdI/s1600/DSCN3511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjISw-NMw1_qJs3fFcf_3fgQk1OTh-yMtKTL1_CpNQokRgPUA-vFOUVatgaM3m6WgEeVX_qccoQQEWtCz8ubnaBkRKirZrOfkWVM0YwNe5jgMt7SC1nqxQvcUseYA-7JN-r9jU9hUy-XdI/s1600/DSCN3511.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Its modern stained glass windows are incredibly vivid</span></td></tr>
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After indulging in probably one of the most delicious baguette sandwiches I've ever had (fresh-baked bread with sweet caramelized onions, slabs of roast chicken, lettuce, tomato and mayo - mmm!) we meandered down the Paseo del Prado, one of Madrid's most famous boulevards, towards the infamous Prado art museum. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQoRlq0ZEduWn34bj8u5PBJF8bYh7U-SmO1cw2-E41lfkXosoednXEUgmwYsYjXiIrIloobMo3axzzs6JSJZ_6maRjD6mWgShgOmmeTqwNT9vZk15lYSb-6yqD76YFtijXB7HXLeL7NtM/s1600/DSCN3520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQoRlq0ZEduWn34bj8u5PBJF8bYh7U-SmO1cw2-E41lfkXosoednXEUgmwYsYjXiIrIloobMo3axzzs6JSJZ_6maRjD6mWgShgOmmeTqwNT9vZk15lYSb-6yqD76YFtijXB7HXLeL7NtM/s1600/DSCN3520.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">San Jerónimo el Real, just behind the Prado Museum</span></td></tr>
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Art history fiend that I am, I couldn't come all the way to Madrid and <i>not</i> go to the Prado. Assembled throughout the centuries by Spain's monarchs, the Prado museum's vast collection is based mostly on the acquisitions of the Royal Families, with works spanning the 12th through 19th centuries. Spanish painting greats like Goya and Velásquez dominate the walls. While the collection includes a whopping total of 21,000 works, the museum only has enough space to display about a tenth of the collection at a time - consequently exhibits rotate, works are loaned out to other museums, and the rest are kept in storage. Unlike the Louvre, you can't take pictures inside the Prado, so here's a little slice of what you can see here when you visit:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjolah1rDQFDue5MCCARRTzmkVDW9jjHdRMIWnbJqdPsHV3odTlyRHwjP8g-qskt_SKBrZuxOF01MoCk927r6oXL8MDNjoZFT8EZ4bt3FQTZwKbH8ue35LYm9KC-jkxgW0qsNKyvoy6N4Q/s1600/Las_Meninas_(1656),_by_Velazquez.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjolah1rDQFDue5MCCARRTzmkVDW9jjHdRMIWnbJqdPsHV3odTlyRHwjP8g-qskt_SKBrZuxOF01MoCk927r6oXL8MDNjoZFT8EZ4bt3FQTZwKbH8ue35LYm9KC-jkxgW0qsNKyvoy6N4Q/s1600/Las_Meninas_(1656),_by_Velazquez.jpg" height="400" width="347" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Diego Vel<span style="text-align: justify;">á</span>squez, "Las Meninas" (1656)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-opShcvt1haqAA2kZ4uFGgbnnV-scNog26gbIpfUrWhgXdNK5pEIDw_3VUki8fqv-mO7qTgTcRosyLCzT4ZAJvQUdvEspAgL0JdpK629-dtTjTJvVTgTKirdnwSsWF-MjEKayrxLmYM/s1600/800px-The_Garden_of_Earthly_Delights_by_Bosch_High_Resolution.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-opShcvt1haqAA2kZ4uFGgbnnV-scNog26gbIpfUrWhgXdNK5pEIDw_3VUki8fqv-mO7qTgTcRosyLCzT4ZAJvQUdvEspAgL0JdpK629-dtTjTJvVTgTKirdnwSsWF-MjEKayrxLmYM/s1600/800px-The_Garden_of_Earthly_Delights_by_Bosch_High_Resolution.jpg" height="227" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hieronymous Bosch, "The Garden of Earthly Delights" (1510) - for a good laugh, search for a bigger version of this painting about morality so you can see the details up-close!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijbkoob5rSpamAqkS1t6ernnfpvZcIOA4oV0t2dxLCjKKuni_AWOBoaLaBjIAVFzUwwWc4i2OiIOCozUys6AM3oSUYy_9tkDWI_k_BSALcOXUJUiI35zOUdCrEwuRjy1f9xvXO8XIFxeI/s1600/Weyden_Deposition.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijbkoob5rSpamAqkS1t6ernnfpvZcIOA4oV0t2dxLCjKKuni_AWOBoaLaBjIAVFzUwwWc4i2OiIOCozUys6AM3oSUYy_9tkDWI_k_BSALcOXUJUiI35zOUdCrEwuRjy1f9xvXO8XIFxeI/s1600/Weyden_Deposition.jpg" height="315" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rogier van der Weyden, "Descent from the Cross" (1435)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVj9Mzc4sEmJZiTVfgVX-ZSpu3QEL-puvZdIidG0CJLujcfQmOYFr42zclqWyUBs3bNdCPsRPzZsZqWb3kqkonJWBa4pgU-VB-eVoMaCfL5Yt3wYjz2CKWonl-NkKgxYMDc0ek8dCvkbw/s1600/1280px-El_Tres_de_Mayo,_by_Francisco_de_Goya,_from_Prado_thin_black_margin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVj9Mzc4sEmJZiTVfgVX-ZSpu3QEL-puvZdIidG0CJLujcfQmOYFr42zclqWyUBs3bNdCPsRPzZsZqWb3kqkonJWBa4pgU-VB-eVoMaCfL5Yt3wYjz2CKWonl-NkKgxYMDc0ek8dCvkbw/s1600/1280px-El_Tres_de_Mayo,_by_Francisco_de_Goya,_from_Prado_thin_black_margin.jpg" height="308" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Francisco Goya, "The Third of May 1808" (1814)</span></td></tr>
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Google Earth has teamed up with the Prado in order to give you a virtual visit of the museum and an up-close and personal look at 14 of the collection's masterpieces. Click <a href="http://www.google.com/intl/en/landing/prado/">here</a> for instructions! If you're in Madrid and the least bit interested in art, the Prado's well-worth a visit! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-ErUMgJw4Xzoy11PHNAhOSOD-I85GgCeZ71Sd4XKxiOjeOGA7x5FcWCuG83PVTlLjjvBSW3bNgZ9s2i_6SqHMyDL7rLuIPVMbAf3fUNZC_xnfurf7w3A5CBge4Hro6y7gOukO_dIKgI/s1600/DSCN3527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-ErUMgJw4Xzoy11PHNAhOSOD-I85GgCeZ71Sd4XKxiOjeOGA7x5FcWCuG83PVTlLjjvBSW3bNgZ9s2i_6SqHMyDL7rLuIPVMbAf3fUNZC_xnfurf7w3A5CBge4Hro6y7gOukO_dIKgI/s1600/DSCN3527.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The equestrian statue of King Alfonso XII overlooks a pond where boaters enjoy the sunshine</span></td></tr>
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Next stop: Parque del Retiro! Eager to take advantage of the sunny day, we went for an afternoon stroll through Parque del Retiro, located just a few minutes away from the Prado. It felt great to relax for a while with a cold drink on a bench overlooking the pond in the middle of the park. We spent a while people-watching and soaking up the sunshine before taking the metro to Las Ventas for a tour of Madrid's famous bullfighting arena.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAzVTyfz4cp59-0mKp_qYm-sMYroTbb1LaIHQKpmUpztRUlRxJJxrCWhWfkM83GvCuxC8iHVPzAYPY5wCv4lXjzSLXXJhyMJWRJOTyp0dDKysmGNXDev4YSxlIYAT86K-eWs_XFCLnsU/s1600/DSCN3529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAzVTyfz4cp59-0mKp_qYm-sMYroTbb1LaIHQKpmUpztRUlRxJJxrCWhWfkM83GvCuxC8iHVPzAYPY5wCv4lXjzSLXXJhyMJWRJOTyp0dDKysmGNXDev4YSxlIYAT86K-eWs_XFCLnsU/s1600/DSCN3529.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Memorial statue on Plaza del Toros</span></td></tr>
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Regarded by many as the home of bullfighting in Spain, the Las Ventas arena has enough room for 25,000 spectators. While I don't think I'd ever want to go to a real bullfight (I've been to a bloodless one in southern France that involved pulling ribbons off the bulls horns instead of stabbing it with swords...dangerous enough!), the tour of the arena was interesting and gave insight into the world of the sport. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiML2C9JVSp2HGG4bDsCZw_QiDwGbN4ilzLtbyAb7o8R652XvHi2816VJ3_VCBE8eNauWBzWRlS2STtQGT01Q1CWIZ7_9HDQbgYGEV9kGd_KSPaOONB-wgVV2CcX_8N4tRyKP8T4EGu6bQ/s1600/DSCN3530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiML2C9JVSp2HGG4bDsCZw_QiDwGbN4ilzLtbyAb7o8R652XvHi2816VJ3_VCBE8eNauWBzWRlS2STtQGT01Q1CWIZ7_9HDQbgYGEV9kGd_KSPaOONB-wgVV2CcX_8N4tRyKP8T4EGu6bQ/s1600/DSCN3530.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The entrance to Las Ventas</span></td></tr>
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The bullfighting season runs from late March through October, and there are bullfights scheduled every Sunday during this period. Seats start as cheap as 5 Euro (although you'll be far away from the center of the ring and have the sun in your eyes) and get progressively more expensive the closer you get to the action and the more shade you want, all the way up to 149 Euro. There's even a special box for the royal family, in a prime location of course! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKf8jLHrRDzcvYCjEQraJAjgqPG5BJ7K1d7FCXpkpKS2ZHIvdaK9mwtqBKSvAKB_zUuB-I-PnH0uYY6sk6Jh9vzF95Vx0Q49D9IYRxxvqMbVPcszufQwc7EJBE_YANEAw7ncHdOXMTmI/s1600/DSCN3534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKf8jLHrRDzcvYCjEQraJAjgqPG5BJ7K1d7FCXpkpKS2ZHIvdaK9mwtqBKSvAKB_zUuB-I-PnH0uYY6sk6Jh9vzF95Vx0Q49D9IYRxxvqMbVPcszufQwc7EJBE_YANEAw7ncHdOXMTmI/s1600/DSCN3534.JPG" height="293" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Panels inside the arena commemorate famous bullfighters</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdv2OaSU2sxEfLa1xjeBheS9PNv1DoyrpHo_U4xDKSW05jfTAjznrGheABcNamgGFbNFaETd_C5f90dazRl3e6SOL3Cn8rhHMIrf0nogA4cQxx8L4D9qxjA3Blbg0yUICSbYAyPhyphenhyphentmRQ/s1600/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdv2OaSU2sxEfLa1xjeBheS9PNv1DoyrpHo_U4xDKSW05jfTAjznrGheABcNamgGFbNFaETd_C5f90dazRl3e6SOL3Cn8rhHMIrf0nogA4cQxx8L4D9qxjA3Blbg0yUICSbYAyPhyphenhyphentmRQ/s1600/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" height="202" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A view of the arena - note the Royal Box to the left</span></td></tr>
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Over 210 feet in diameter, Las Ventas is one of the world's largest bullfighting arenas. The tour takes you through various parts of the stands and even lets you go down to the center of the sandy stadium to stand where all the action takes place. I can only imagine what it must be like for the <i>toreador</i> to be down here and to have all eyes on him as he goes head-to-head with his bovine opponent.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHItdgoq-Gihl9vlGkC2wFesLCy3R7XIrgT9IYH2w_7-rxmkWEHGiWvhloDNoCj3hZiyYCZ7CUWDaY8aKIj72r9LFSnN4tz1YOXLuZDF23HTphJ1rWquE_tHw5rUSVwnLmr22OVh0bO7A/s1600/DSCN3537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHItdgoq-Gihl9vlGkC2wFesLCy3R7XIrgT9IYH2w_7-rxmkWEHGiWvhloDNoCj3hZiyYCZ7CUWDaY8aKIj72r9LFSnN4tz1YOXLuZDF23HTphJ1rWquE_tHw5rUSVwnLmr22OVh0bO7A/s1600/DSCN3537.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Enjoying the view from the center of the ring!</span></td></tr>
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That wrapped up our short stay in Madrid, for we were travelling back to Paris once again the next day. We hit the ground running, and after quickly checking into our hotel and getting dolled up we had to beat it over to the Moulin Rouge where we had tickets for the 9pm show. Taking in a show at the Moulin Rouge had been on my Paris "Bucket List" since I lived there in 2011, so needless to say I was very excited when my parents suggested that we all go together! I was skeptical at first - "cheap" tickets cost 110 Euro, including half a bottle of champagne per person - was the show really going to be worth it? I'm happy to report that it was! Dazzling costumes, complex choreographed dance routines, acrobats, strong men, contortionists and comedians make for a very amusing show. And the theater is gorgeous inside to boot! I don't want to give away any of the spectacle's many surprises, but if you're in Paris and on the fence of whether or not you should splurge to see a show there, don't hesitate!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXTKIivuRhD_wEzQZ8k-n-e5RzD26i1Iw5GfGWvKUHEOdwqJy7XCj8dq5Bx4OK3qdK29opvZO1Om6E7bRJozqXFQNwqvSQfSwZnrAhlduAsfETfdHbujNLZOiXN0f7pgz9hmTjGQlppM/s1600/DSCN3545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXTKIivuRhD_wEzQZ8k-n-e5RzD26i1Iw5GfGWvKUHEOdwqJy7XCj8dq5Bx4OK3qdK29opvZO1Om6E7bRJozqXFQNwqvSQfSwZnrAhlduAsfETfdHbujNLZOiXN0f7pgz9hmTjGQlppM/s1600/DSCN3545.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Waiting for the show to begin!</span></td></tr>
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It just happened to work out that my friends from home, Jared and Emily, were going to be in Paris at the same time my parents and I were - they were on a whirlwind trip through Europe and our paths happened to cross! I thought it rather funny that I'd spent 6 months in France without seeing anyone from back home, and then both my parents and friends were going to be there with me at the same time. We met up after the Moulin Rouge and spent the rest of the night swapping stories and catching up over mojitos in Montmartre!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsv-2Tzz6VgyebAHnbT499r2TypY72QGSWQZytvGYN2zkCWjXjGWrfMkU21aqV1la5B3Ieb9dqGiviDiKvLOflXC4bK6Oh4WLlsSXq5wPax-Mxwde-YUdKJdeyK9q-ESHm8YIWbKUQU8/s1600/DSCN3547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsv-2Tzz6VgyebAHnbT499r2TypY72QGSWQZytvGYN2zkCWjXjGWrfMkU21aqV1la5B3Ieb9dqGiviDiKvLOflXC4bK6Oh4WLlsSXq5wPax-Mxwde-YUdKJdeyK9q-ESHm8YIWbKUQU8/s1600/DSCN3547.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Jared, Emily and I, reunited at last!</span></td></tr>
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The stars aligned again the next day, and we were all able to go out for brunch together before heading our separate ways - my parents and I were going down to Forbach for a few days, and Jared and Emily were bound for Dublin where they'd explore before flying back to the US. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYpI_U7nLsBsZBTp4xLH18qwvDIg417iXcSHs5uxUOVdF0R2J8xOHzkAjOrc50ToHQwysOGG_sM2LMujcqQRisigz6xLXhf93FRbwDFUm62PLBH8CXw-nz1WYzkzBQdf6HrPrwBDUPhQ/s1600/DSCN3551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYpI_U7nLsBsZBTp4xLH18qwvDIg417iXcSHs5uxUOVdF0R2J8xOHzkAjOrc50ToHQwysOGG_sM2LMujcqQRisigz6xLXhf93FRbwDFUm62PLBH8CXw-nz1WYzkzBQdf6HrPrwBDUPhQ/s1600/DSCN3551.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Looking forward to meeting up again once I head back home!</span></td></tr>
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My friends and I had recently discovered a great place for brunch in Paris, a cute little restaurant called Les P'tites Indécises. Located in the 11th <i>arrondissement</i> not far from Place de la République, you can really stuff yourself all for only 14 Euro! After enjoying some fresh-squeezed orange juice, creamy hot chocolate, tartines with jam & Nutella, eggs and bacon, and the world's crumbliest (but delicious!) apple crumble, we said <i>au revoir</i> to Jared & Emily and set off for the train that would take us to Forbach.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiH73HMQGMpHjN5mreAuyX7KYH60GW3nJWu7gVFSc2-_vssY24JkPxMNlzWTcPLNf02QaQDWvL-eqkChAmOQmko_Y4tuD3NwWTam2BXIk7HRMDPGt1lqa2xVsyvZ8AMEgdCcU5pSR7fKI/s1600/DSCN3550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiH73HMQGMpHjN5mreAuyX7KYH60GW3nJWu7gVFSc2-_vssY24JkPxMNlzWTcPLNf02QaQDWvL-eqkChAmOQmko_Y4tuD3NwWTam2BXIk7HRMDPGt1lqa2xVsyvZ8AMEgdCcU5pSR7fKI/s1600/DSCN3550.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The "White" Family: Steve, Pam, Rachael and faux-Jared! (sorry bro, you should join us next time!</span>)</td></tr>
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After having taken a bunch of flights during the week, it was a relief to just be taking the train to Forbach - no need to waste hours travelling to and from the airport, going through security, waiting forever at the gate, etc. Just show up and hop on the train! Two hours later we were in good ole' Forbach...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDEnC3UTOjJ_RDoAefYHPcqtOgyc3BpPRezU4dXVNhQCmwWBEvtvZnh-hcve4Tdn2XViutVKMnHat09S5Fnrr4fHEplfky71aghHHypM62NRZqUneBBl73vYWF0cIVC8pjFt946-LbJhU/s1600/20140309_164321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDEnC3UTOjJ_RDoAefYHPcqtOgyc3BpPRezU4dXVNhQCmwWBEvtvZnh-hcve4Tdn2XViutVKMnHat09S5Fnrr4fHEplfky71aghHHypM62NRZqUneBBl73vYWF0cIVC8pjFt946-LbJhU/s1600/20140309_164321.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Parents' first impression of Forbach: rusty, crooked sign perched precariously over a brown "garden"! Things can only go up from here!</span></td></tr>
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I was happy that my roommate Meike was going to be around when my parents were in town - they were anxious to meet her, as she figures prominently in many of my adventures, and as I had been able to spend some time with her family, I was glad she could meet mine! We spent the afternoon relaxing in my apartment, happy to put our feet up for a while in somewhere other than a hotel room. My parents were eager to try some local food, so we all went out for some of Forbach's best flammekueches and some regional wine - it was a hit! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrAnbQt_g1FgIBBosDuG77G1u84eB0S_GUh4eJnE5u91g-5Jy3zXvmGe9MoINSDRTh2Ngx-4Z5W6oAW52rZMdo8n4n-s5yMr31V9feaDbh_7_r2eJmhV8N5izsnUYoV98AsM6OJ12iqc/s1600/20140309_192754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrAnbQt_g1FgIBBosDuG77G1u84eB0S_GUh4eJnE5u91g-5Jy3zXvmGe9MoINSDRTh2Ngx-4Z5W6oAW52rZMdo8n4n-s5yMr31V9feaDbh_7_r2eJmhV8N5izsnUYoV98AsM6OJ12iqc/s1600/20140309_192754.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dad and his "Alsatian pizza"</span></td></tr>
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The following day we went for a little tour of my town, including a hike up to the schlossberg (and a riveting visit to the grocery store, Cora, that is practically our second home)...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmxAtMCcWwhEPhGsURjX5mJzYMTNykJTDeTtO4L1dA0trvadIu2DnjpsnZpbKaLgFa0BStUQn9cBcnQbfZTtxfy9kiJngoANpxSBaeOzHcp86BPN-tYPsCAd8w_sc6I2zXqQgAETfdzA/s1600/20140310_111453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmxAtMCcWwhEPhGsURjX5mJzYMTNykJTDeTtO4L1dA0trvadIu2DnjpsnZpbKaLgFa0BStUQn9cBcnQbfZTtxfy9kiJngoANpxSBaeOzHcp86BPN-tYPsCAd8w_sc6I2zXqQgAETfdzA/s1600/20140310_111453.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My mom, Meike and I at the schlossberg</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
...and my dad couldn't help but try out the mining equipment that's in the schoolyard where I live!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcxcFBnjY-CRVCf_skyNmkL8ldoa_17hupahyphenhyphen7vbaiGl3hy-_j4WJtA2yjUdCZKN7y_WtBC_Gf-2ivrby40dVmBRX8U3lsVGzvyWuon6frJxubSnvmulA5Ke9JIJKvGFgiFWitep31O0/s1600/20140310_113601.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcxcFBnjY-CRVCf_skyNmkL8ldoa_17hupahyphenhyphen7vbaiGl3hy-_j4WJtA2yjUdCZKN7y_WtBC_Gf-2ivrby40dVmBRX8U3lsVGzvyWuon6frJxubSnvmulA5Ke9JIJKvGFgiFWitep31O0/s1600/20140310_113601.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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We made a quick stop for some delicious kebab and fries at lunch time (it's a shame that these yummy sandwiches don't really exist back home!) and then jetted across the border into Germany to shop and grab some ice cream in Saarbrücken for the afternoon.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvEP-HUdN_nvKDqAtsigyZkzUP3ZZ1lH4Gi7GB8e4GPBlIdm4XY5sFXLTkbfA9BXiUcyAqo4_i4fOdjTOKfWGlWVtY34tiooYtQ0f1GCwtKRHMT8Soo6bdnV9Sm-2lrQYkJEwWdOya3U/s1600/IMG_0370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvEP-HUdN_nvKDqAtsigyZkzUP3ZZ1lH4Gi7GB8e4GPBlIdm4XY5sFXLTkbfA9BXiUcyAqo4_i4fOdjTOKfWGlWVtY34tiooYtQ0f1GCwtKRHMT8Soo6bdnV9Sm-2lrQYkJEwWdOya3U/s1600/IMG_0370.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">:)</span> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0y2a5L06sZPuGODAdQHhW5Bralcn-xpS883Mwn9iWXEFQZ62eKHIjaJ9Sp5vd8LAQr5j3mB5C11wfPsU4_8Bc3ND8DgwK1falCVGWJfbfCt7EesRjkMFqhs0NM49ys8aLsYPidJ-0wOM/s1600/20140310_155218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0y2a5L06sZPuGODAdQHhW5Bralcn-xpS883Mwn9iWXEFQZ62eKHIjaJ9Sp5vd8LAQr5j3mB5C11wfPsU4_8Bc3ND8DgwK1falCVGWJfbfCt7EesRjkMFqhs0NM49ys8aLsYPidJ-0wOM/s1600/20140310_155218.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hallo</i> from Germany!</span></td></tr>
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And once again, it was time to repack our bags - back to Paris the next morning! When my parents had come to visit me in Paris back in 2011, we made 3 separate failed attempts to go visit the catacombs - Paris' underground ossuary. Upon our arrival back in the city, we headed there straight away and ended up being able to circumvent the long line (with an estimated wait time of 2 hours!) by signing up for a guided tour that was beginning only half an hour after we arrived - score! While I had studied the catacombs during my Paris Monuments class and had previously visited them myself, it was fascinating to have a knowledgeable guide who could even further enlighten us. Armed with a flashlight, she was able to point out different things along our way that made our visit very interesting. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaGqqwNWIYz9FEUU-g-yeT7k8DeHSB7-mtiYzBolnOkaG6SZ6zxJ4Oyx6-6Do7ygt9aIcg_DdO74mQdkCuCu7e9E_FbzFYbYPqTgtCwawr7cRXsZ-4Dio0y90IUbqMy2NXq4TD-lPIf4/s1600/2014-03-11+13.19.22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaGqqwNWIYz9FEUU-g-yeT7k8DeHSB7-mtiYzBolnOkaG6SZ6zxJ4Oyx6-6Do7ygt9aIcg_DdO74mQdkCuCu7e9E_FbzFYbYPqTgtCwawr7cRXsZ-4Dio0y90IUbqMy2NXq4TD-lPIf4/s1600/2014-03-11+13.19.22.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Boo!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Not for the faint of heart, your trip through the
catacombs will bring you through a mile or so of tunnels inside Paris' former
stone quarries which are filled with the bones of an estimated 6 to 7 million
Parisians. 20 meters below ground, you wander through dimly-lit, damp passages,
marveling at the artfully arranged skulls and long bones which line the walls.
The rest of the smaller bones (ribs, vertebrae, remains of hands and feet,
etc.) were dumped behind the "walls" that you see, and as our guide
was able to point out are between 20 and 30 meters deep in some spots. </span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV7W2NfXkfBWn9NF21jfydMdRTri4FbbzCRd_Xd2ILsQyJAfqP7PTWXWK0uALUS0v54SkJthPw9u-mETnmVV0roQ99qFfy9HVovbAk1LTs4j3QkUUp98oIO2_Gdgjh_pMxG1dK2iye6RM/s1600/2014-03-11+13.19.06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV7W2NfXkfBWn9NF21jfydMdRTri4FbbzCRd_Xd2ILsQyJAfqP7PTWXWK0uALUS0v54SkJthPw9u-mETnmVV0roQ99qFfy9HVovbAk1LTs4j3QkUUp98oIO2_Gdgjh_pMxG1dK2iye6RM/s1600/2014-03-11+13.19.06.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Created out of necessity during the late 18th century, the catacombs hold the earthly remains of all those who were formerly buried in some of Paris' most crowded cemeteries. If you weren't rich enough to afford a burial place in or directly outside of a church, you were put in a "public" grave with up to 2,000 of your fellow residents. These graves weren't closed or covered over until they were packed to the brim - instead, planks were placed over the top so they could be easily opened when the next wave of sickness claimed its latest victims. Needless to say, the stench and disease emanating from these burial places was causing major problems in the crowded city. The icing on the cake came when a family was dining in the cellar of their home and had one of their earthen cellar walls give way, causing a sluice of rotting corpses to invade their basement - yuck! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmni9NI5UQAM0L0WswXipYHH2OIqVjyhKlQ06hpg3tysJLmaF893SY7NrUooTNC10kC-WTUCXU7WjSSkwpUMsAJigFr7A0OPfCcIcM_RkGjTMaYB06jUHcFNF3fh9mfrguND3wn26GIU/s1600/2014-03-11+13.18.03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmni9NI5UQAM0L0WswXipYHH2OIqVjyhKlQ06hpg3tysJLmaF893SY7NrUooTNC10kC-WTUCXU7WjSSkwpUMsAJigFr7A0OPfCcIcM_RkGjTMaYB06jUHcFNF3fh9mfrguND3wn26GIU/s1600/2014-03-11+13.18.03.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the catacombs' famous pillars of bones</span></td></tr>
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So the city decided something had to be done, and thus the catacombs were born. Graves were reopened and remains were transported in the cover of darkness from the burial grounds to the former mines far below the city - with so many bones to transport there was no way to identify everyone, thus the bones are simply grouped by the cemeteries from which they came. If you've never been to the catacombs, it's definitely worth waiting in line to go - you'll be impressed, if not a little creeped out by what you'll see!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrE7VGqs7uuipHlhnQsOVAa6a4QUnISBaS8vEDFo6812b2GouscjoQwTBvFmeOJ1yKwvKescaQJiQH8juRv5c1VUsvVaXOOXMcN6jYo-HecWwhpc11sX-1S1KTL0FQu7kh7LrIjQOgk_I/s1600/2014-03-11+13.19.44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrE7VGqs7uuipHlhnQsOVAa6a4QUnISBaS8vEDFo6812b2GouscjoQwTBvFmeOJ1yKwvKescaQJiQH8juRv5c1VUsvVaXOOXMcN6jYo-HecWwhpc11sX-1S1KTL0FQu7kh7LrIjQOgk_I/s1600/2014-03-11+13.19.44.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Bones from the Cemetery of the Holy Spirit, deposited November 7, 1804"</span></td></tr>
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The time had finally come for me to say <i>adieu</i> to my parents - we had a great vacation together and I was so glad that they were able to come do some travelling with me. Six months away from familiar faces is a long time, but now I only have 6 weeks left until I'm home for good. With that being said, I still had a few days left of vacation, and as I'm always anxious to go exploring I had another trip up my sleeve...next stop: Belgium!</div>
Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-81305581523870317292014-03-20T09:47:00.000-04:002014-03-20T09:47:02.726-04:00Spring Break - Part 1: Adventures in Africa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyTAX46kUyZKHjxoZ1vbTGc1o_KLpgsUA60TItjHQWK1dm_zVfHqXuQcCwex7RppyxoF_lcECCs0kms5lFr9AY0xpcpeYPK1y5Mac6yMD7oBqe_f8q4SwdCH1oswKKHyogBVPKgJkY3Vc/s1600/2014-03-03+19.29.41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyTAX46kUyZKHjxoZ1vbTGc1o_KLpgsUA60TItjHQWK1dm_zVfHqXuQcCwex7RppyxoF_lcECCs0kms5lFr9AY0xpcpeYPK1y5Mac6yMD7oBqe_f8q4SwdCH1oswKKHyogBVPKgJkY3Vc/s1600/2014-03-03+19.29.41.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sunset over Place Jamaa El Fna in Marrakech</span></td></tr>
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After a very long 8 weeks of work, my extremely restless students and I could not wait for the 5pm bell to ring on Friday, signlaing the beginning of our two-week spring break. Eager for a change of scenery, I packed my bags and headed up to Paris on Saturday where I spent a day catching up with Kasey and Eric before my parents finally arrived the next morning. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuKBNEqmQac420mSMc-A-vhQ7MRLjWOLW8x1oxCO34PBhlFEOm5FcJ-VVcH0ZriYIj7uFW3VIeQ_XpEwKEA6h5zTWuvC8un9BJeVU9bLSKRc6jPFITW2S-v0g_k7DftrEEHLlQ1nKgs0/s1600/DSCN3208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuKBNEqmQac420mSMc-A-vhQ7MRLjWOLW8x1oxCO34PBhlFEOm5FcJ-VVcH0ZriYIj7uFW3VIeQ_XpEwKEA6h5zTWuvC8un9BJeVU9bLSKRc6jPFITW2S-v0g_k7DftrEEHLlQ1nKgs0/s1600/DSCN3208.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eric, Kasey and I</span></td></tr>
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After making my way through the bowels of the Châtelet metro station in Paris (the largest underground transfer point in all of continental Europe), I picked up my parents who had just taken the train from the airport into the city. We hadn't seen each other in six months - it was so nice to see them in person versus just talking over Skype! Laden with luggage, we headed to our hotel and then set off to stroll the city for the afternoon. After a leisurely promenade and a relaxing dinner with my parents, Kasey and Eric, we turned in for the night - the next morning we were off to Morocco!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_gV13-WHkFkHWf7wKvo4hdUKA_UZj0xGX8MKwDq9u5ZfI6rExVI3L9SfsrhPnbDGV4uTadn2I6KhwYJks5ve8aMgXY1uY7AUMK9BmzAiO4gvYIUVZwFzkLIVpX5c01Xz2tYgGgh16wj0/s1600/20140302_152550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_gV13-WHkFkHWf7wKvo4hdUKA_UZj0xGX8MKwDq9u5ZfI6rExVI3L9SfsrhPnbDGV4uTadn2I6KhwYJks5ve8aMgXY1uY7AUMK9BmzAiO4gvYIUVZwFzkLIVpX5c01Xz2tYgGgh16wj0/s1600/20140302_152550.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My mom & I enjoying the flowers in the Tuileries - quite a change from the snow that they left back in Westfield!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZRh1ceI41ujd-ASqgrBUdBc1aJH5FCHBRu5C3tEuKLM2s25oij9CiFJP6pPf3Tv-8SM3E3oWqXWsWlwB5MbLwKXZ676YwR-TUVDbAI9JKua5YTCUu9XjRWbNkH6Lqn94z3EQygd7JB-E/s1600/20140302_162311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZRh1ceI41ujd-ASqgrBUdBc1aJH5FCHBRu5C3tEuKLM2s25oij9CiFJP6pPf3Tv-8SM3E3oWqXWsWlwB5MbLwKXZ676YwR-TUVDbAI9JKua5YTCUu9XjRWbNkH6Lqn94z3EQygd7JB-E/s1600/20140302_162311.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My dad and I - first family Happy Hour in quite some time!</span></td></tr>
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If you're scratching your head because you have no idea where to find Morocco on a map or don't know much about the country in general, here are some fast facts:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXWfAB8HrsvI6LMvGqM-MDSxIyxWdvFza8br4IOyeEgOcIJn86g6B3bKyHoaqpSTZJFji3otDHt61YvXm3VJfytObjk_SAOBHq3HQWjgDNAPqf-Wf62WhMCT3V-G0wM5XstEWk6a9URY/s1600/morocco+map.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXWfAB8HrsvI6LMvGqM-MDSxIyxWdvFza8br4IOyeEgOcIJn86g6B3bKyHoaqpSTZJFji3otDHt61YvXm3VJfytObjk_SAOBHq3HQWjgDNAPqf-Wf62WhMCT3V-G0wM5XstEWk6a9URY/s1600/morocco+map.gif" height="320" width="292" /></a></div>
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The Kingdom of Morocco (currently presided over by King Mohammed VI) is situated on the northwestern tip of Africa. Directly south of Spain and Portugal, Morocco is located on the southern side of the Strait of Gibraltar - a narrow, 9 mile section of ocean separating Europe and Africa, which also connects the Atlantic Ocean with the Mediterranean Sea. Comprised of over 33 million people, Morocco is a diverse nation mainly populated by Berber Arabs who speak Arabic, French and English, along with a wide variety of Berber dialects. Primarily a Muslim country, mosques from many minarets dot the skyline, and gorgeous Arabic calligraphy, vibrant mosaics and Moorish architecture provide a beautiful feast for the senses.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VBZaI5YWJhyphenhyphenPe1Yy-_W6oj0WMKOtA44F6hhwL53TY9vsrwWgWQ3olLMU7owmMFtiUL_vz9e5eDZqKoAMfj326GVLwp4SMQ9yX0DApiuOXvpKSu7ndey61bKf_PpF4MD0owUgLLOmqfU/s1600/DSCN3477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VBZaI5YWJhyphenhyphenPe1Yy-_W6oj0WMKOtA44F6hhwL53TY9vsrwWgWQ3olLMU7owmMFtiUL_vz9e5eDZqKoAMfj326GVLwp4SMQ9yX0DApiuOXvpKSu7ndey61bKf_PpF4MD0owUgLLOmqfU/s1600/DSCN3477.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Strait of Gibraltar, separating Spain/Europe (bottom) from Morocco/Africa (top) as seen from our plane</span></td></tr>
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The high Atlas Mountains separate the lower coastal part of the country from the sandy Sahara desert found in central and southern Morocco. While there may have been snow-capped mountains in the distance, weather in Marrakech was anything but chilly! Full sun everyday and temperatures topping out in the high 70's to low 80's made for a much-welcomed respite from rainy Forbach for me, and from snowy Westfield for my parents! Morocco is, however, a modest country when it comes to dress codes, and thus we chose to stick to jeans and t-shirts over shorts and tank tops (despite the heat!) to better fit in. In any case, we ended up getting plenty of sun to breathe a little life back into our pasty white complexions!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNg-jK5n4XBujqNKiSpNnBZcHsDB-1kNuseNkOGV23LepX6KFTnA7f6yOqGNucF-D67jH1UVDu3R6nx0k-tjxdYZlclukJTqdGpUvJ6RHiiLkAAM-BZJm4Ya05FLWS8sitMYvStMt9tmA/s1600/20140303_155758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNg-jK5n4XBujqNKiSpNnBZcHsDB-1kNuseNkOGV23LepX6KFTnA7f6yOqGNucF-D67jH1UVDu3R6nx0k-tjxdYZlclukJTqdGpUvJ6RHiiLkAAM-BZJm4Ya05FLWS8sitMYvStMt9tmA/s1600/20140303_155758.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Taking a break from the sun - and modelling a super-trendy straw hat!</span></td></tr>
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An added perk of vacationing in Morocco: it's super cheap! We flew with the European budget airline Ryanair, which has ridiculously inexpensive flights to various destinations throughout Europe & northern Africa. For 3 people to fly from Paris to Marrakech, then from Marrakech to Madrid, and finally from Madrid back to Paris, we spent under $600 - for a total of 9 flights! And with the current exchange rate, $1 USD is worth 8 Moroccan dirham (which works out even better for me, as 1 Euro = 11.25 dirham!). Hello cheap food & souvenirs!!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAAEcyWIS-66y4wYLTdXWQEDWKFgm_MNE7RmzHLlfQq791IZ5C2I4aZiIybQF-V_m23PVGYoEIbC1DSH0TYhImI_Ott7ZlgqOqX9HV7V8Abm9vrh9a1xq19h2kTlAoLZ3sGET5jBUVOE/s1600/2014-03-05+11.00.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAAEcyWIS-66y4wYLTdXWQEDWKFgm_MNE7RmzHLlfQq791IZ5C2I4aZiIybQF-V_m23PVGYoEIbC1DSH0TYhImI_Ott7ZlgqOqX9HV7V8Abm9vrh9a1xq19h2kTlAoLZ3sGET5jBUVOE/s1600/2014-03-05+11.00.12.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Show me your dirham!</span></td></tr>
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After a quick 3-hour flight from Paris, we touched down in Marrakech. Although it took us forever to get through the severely understaffed passport control check-point, we were soon whisked away in a shuttle to our hotel.</div>
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Ok, so maybe "whisked away" is a little too graceful of a description...</div>
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A very modern shuttle van was waiting to pick us up at the airport and we enjoyed a scenic tour of the old and new parts of the city on our way towards our hotel. The streets continued to get narrower and dustier, eventually becoming so congested with pedestrians, people on scooters, mules pulling carts, etc. that our driver informed us that he could take us no further. My parents and I all exchanged strange looks as our taxi driver quickly negotiated something in Arabic with a man pushing a rusty little metal cart alongside the van, and the next thing we knew our luggage was being packed into said cart and we were following our new "guide" to the place where we were staying - his cart could actually fit down the narrow alleys where the taxi could not.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_nggkMdkugsNeuLAeQ2VU04LXME5I6NsZJ4n1VZ1n2LOLCjp73nPqs9wpkzgroJKkip0PX90KI0bFnwB6BAIBRdSzEvC9qO2N__QBMGH_1u64dlKwFh3PCIBuiU5oh5a8bWZ0rYCEcA/s1600/DSCN3229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_nggkMdkugsNeuLAeQ2VU04LXME5I6NsZJ4n1VZ1n2LOLCjp73nPqs9wpkzgroJKkip0PX90KI0bFnwB6BAIBRdSzEvC9qO2N__QBMGH_1u64dlKwFh3PCIBuiU5oh5a8bWZ0rYCEcA/s1600/DSCN3229.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Derb Allilich, the "street"/alley on which our riad was located</span></td></tr>
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Completely outside our usual comfort zone - as absolutely nothing about our current situation resembled anything we'd ever experienced before - we apprehensively followed our bags to our hotel (which from the outside looked like a filthy mud-brick building) and held our breath as the second "taxi driver" knocked on the door...I think I can speak for all of us when I say a collective sigh of relief was released as we entered the stunning riad!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsF4zGKTAOrhe2RE2yQniiuhPqqXdZoSRvcgpBXr3xeKcTC8JD5634fBDw7BfiUPtmhVjtGhfVJFxj9MewbV8p18ScIUCfjcMYf09irsM7DiA2OREUUbg6u1NqY5Xl28BwImdUkIo0v0/s1600/2014-03-04+15.05.40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsF4zGKTAOrhe2RE2yQniiuhPqqXdZoSRvcgpBXr3xeKcTC8JD5634fBDw7BfiUPtmhVjtGhfVJFxj9MewbV8p18ScIUCfjcMYf09irsM7DiA2OREUUbg6u1NqY5Xl28BwImdUkIo0v0/s1600/2014-03-04+15.05.40.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The inner courtyard at our riad</span></td></tr>
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We opted to go for a more traditional Moroccan experience by staying in a riad (from the Arabic <i>ryad</i> meaning "garden") instead of a conventional hotel. Riads are traditional Moroccan houses with an interior courtyard/garden, and many former private homes have been beautifully restored and turned into small boutique hotels - ours only had 5 rooms inside. Our riad, Dar Lalla F'Dila, had a great bed-and-breakfast feel to it, complete with a spacious inner courtyard, breakfast terrace and rooftop solarium with a great view of the city and its surroundings.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxw7uHQea4gQm8Oo5vILG82LzxEpDm6KVUnYEYKqHgs2xPpuB_WsFPDChAkqjZef-GM7J4lWrUG91HsxiFHDoEIXcuiukq9EEd0-8XCQoV-yBXctGUINAjf1bQDS1CYcpZJoyTkAaHwIM/s1600/DSCN3220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxw7uHQea4gQm8Oo5vILG82LzxEpDm6KVUnYEYKqHgs2xPpuB_WsFPDChAkqjZef-GM7J4lWrUG91HsxiFHDoEIXcuiukq9EEd0-8XCQoV-yBXctGUINAjf1bQDS1CYcpZJoyTkAaHwIM/s1600/DSCN3220.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our massive room! Stone floors keep the room cool even during the hottest part of the day</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjelxPK42yTwFQaKktDBK7WVsNH4xMn36zYnSDLaHkTOU5IPpJh0PAzGOnjRX6ThJrkSiKGRsLZINwOzQmBfe81h8gaWGSGNDYoPWcGre2dAgmA6jFkvKEgG8ou-UDhqF0O2QqcuJNnBw/s1600/DSCN3222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjelxPK42yTwFQaKktDBK7WVsNH4xMn36zYnSDLaHkTOU5IPpJh0PAzGOnjRX6ThJrkSiKGRsLZINwOzQmBfe81h8gaWGSGNDYoPWcGre2dAgmA6jFkvKEgG8ou-UDhqF0O2QqcuJNnBw/s1600/DSCN3222.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The solarium, where you can relax in the sun and sip your mint tea</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy4nrFils87feuSALT3Vh0xl15dRR5SJVV6XgP6cFgUsicJDrKpHxG6XIcaMiz0Bx8zrNf2gffCGfv3Vjpds0BBVRtn7hlZFiLjYNhHkfMPC1D-wq2q1RvLyndI1n2jbpyaUAXwvAcW3M/s1600/DSCN3223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy4nrFils87feuSALT3Vh0xl15dRR5SJVV6XgP6cFgUsicJDrKpHxG6XIcaMiz0Bx8zrNf2gffCGfv3Vjpds0BBVRtn7hlZFiLjYNhHkfMPC1D-wq2q1RvLyndI1n2jbpyaUAXwvAcW3M/s1600/DSCN3223.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Juicy oranges growing on the rooftop's garden</span></td></tr>
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We settled into our room and were given a quick run-down of the ins and outs of Marrakech over some delicious mint tea and homemade cookies. Theoretically, we were less than a 10-minute walk from the main square, Place Jamaa El Fna - but to get there, we'd have to meander our way through the maze of souks, the city's famous open-air markets. I'd done my research before leaving for our trip and thought I was fully prepared to take on the city - armed with a few trusty maps, and a decent sense of direction, I figured we wouldn't have any issues whatsoever: WRONG! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjur-3_gJPK2oz-uhWImWJbHYYDlZULp8I-bYlEvS9A0CkUtuzWZY6ujWO6OGVkpom0fJpAT4RTjjXyc4mLI8GQmPUVntYb3oWFLQL4u8jGyL12nhrXocg7M85BSrG9C6XxrkRtRYtYg/s1600/marrakesch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjur-3_gJPK2oz-uhWImWJbHYYDlZULp8I-bYlEvS9A0CkUtuzWZY6ujWO6OGVkpom0fJpAT4RTjjXyc4mLI8GQmPUVntYb3oWFLQL4u8jGyL12nhrXocg7M85BSrG9C6XxrkRtRYtYg/s1600/marrakesch.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">While this map may seem detailed enough, with most of the main attractions shown, notice how many streets are dead ends and just generally don't have a name! Happy wandering :)</span></td></tr>
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"Just look for the distinctive mosque towers," my guide books had said. </div>
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That may had been great advice if you were standing in a big square looking for a point of reference, but when you're wandering aimlessly through mostly unmarked 6-foot wide alleyways surrounded by 20 foot walls all while trying not to be killed by people whizzing by you on mopeds, this proves not to be such an easy task!</div>
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"Don't agree to be led by locals through the streets to your destination," they said. "They'll just end up wanting your money for being so helpful." </div>
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Again, this sounds good in theory, until you have the classic deer-in-the-headlights look upon your face in a totally non-touristy area and are clutching a map, desperately trying to figure out which one of the 6 alleyways at the intersection you should take to lead you to your destination. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the plethora of hand-cut tile mosaics that decorate the city</span></td></tr>
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Cue the boys saying "Hey mister, hey lady, are you lost? We can help you!" Even after politely refusing to be helped and saying we didn't want to pay for a guide, a group of boys told us that they were going the same way as us anyways and would be totally happy to show us the way, no money needed. Skeptical but secretly yearning for some friendly locals' advice, we stupidly agreed to be lead "the back way" to the city's main square...which ended up instead at the tanneries where the boys' father had a leather shop. Of course, they wanted money because they had "helped us" to go in the "right" direction...after my parents politely declined in English, I tried to diffuse the quickly escalating situation in French, only to be called a slew of obscenities. Lesson learned: always look like you know where you're going, even if you are totally lost!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPGAgtrrOJt5s9hzu8OVzPVb-9vhewqT6mDY7MSatxEuXHMHkiSAGWlFDQj-IWvNFgoxT_9CEkbJ65vgvxIwamlZTcsEaeFHLfAXlEne4PVD7WnhFS-j9_1zeljiBS_1rtH7XQRd_xjY/s1600/2014-03-05+11.53.22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPGAgtrrOJt5s9hzu8OVzPVb-9vhewqT6mDY7MSatxEuXHMHkiSAGWlFDQj-IWvNFgoxT_9CEkbJ65vgvxIwamlZTcsEaeFHLfAXlEne4PVD7WnhFS-j9_1zeljiBS_1rtH7XQRd_xjY/s1600/2014-03-05+11.53.22.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Vendors selling handmade hats in one of Marrakech's many souks</span></td></tr>
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We stumbled into another family of lost-looking British tourists, and after laughing together for a few minutes about how crazy the city seemed (they had just arrived that morning as well), we decided to set off together to try to find the elusive Place Jamaa El Fna. As they say, there's strength in numbers - we finally made it! And what a sight it was to take in...we decided to grab some drinks together at a cafe with a rooftop terrace so we could check out all the action swarming in the square below.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCePTiZWc9c3F2z_XcLM6hWBFXKoTfhfBHodW1Mg0v_lgBmvV92Pt0h9TidmrECajCk99Ldiu_q0MKb_LvdF2MtRsvwply1yswawagRJOlQ3lrgsWCRjbWC0qzFOl1RCxZPzpRjl5z3s/s1600/2014-03-05+13.36.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCePTiZWc9c3F2z_XcLM6hWBFXKoTfhfBHodW1Mg0v_lgBmvV92Pt0h9TidmrECajCk99Ldiu_q0MKb_LvdF2MtRsvwply1yswawagRJOlQ3lrgsWCRjbWC0qzFOl1RCxZPzpRjl5z3s/s1600/2014-03-05+13.36.52.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Place Jamaa El Fna, while the day markets are set up</span></td></tr>
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Snake charmers and monkeys and musicians, oh my! The market had everything from fresh-squeezed orange juice vendors to burqa-clad women doing henna designs, snake charmers and their slithery companions to diaper-wearing monkeys posing for pictures with tourists. Vendors peddling pottery, leather goods, spices, Berber pharmaceutical remedies, candied fruit, freshly-slaughtered meat...you name it, you can find it here! Clusters of stray cats sit beneath counters at butcher shops, waiting for a piece of the entrails that hang from metal hooks above the store window to fall to the ground. Old men sit whittling camels out of olive wood. Oriental rug dealers flip through carpet after carpet, trying to entice clients inside their shops with aromatic pots of freshly-brewed mint tea. It was truly a beautiful sight, so much to look at and something the likes of which I had never before seen. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A shop in the spice market, also selling crocodile and giant snake skins</span></td></tr>
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Another thing you'll notice about Marrakech is that its Islamic heritage takes a central place in daily life. A few examples: there are mosques and minaret towers everywhere you look, alcoholic beverages are hard to come by, people dress very modestly, and Islamic art and architecture pervade the landscape. Also, you'll probably stop in your tracks the first time you hear the <i>adhan</i>, or call to prayer, shouted by various <i>muezzins</i> from the mosque towers. (While I don't pretend to be an expert on Islam, I have taken a few comparative religion classes during my college years and as such have a basic understanding of the religion.) </div>
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First, the call to prayer itself is issued (this happens 5 times a day at set times). Next comes a call for the faithful to line up facing Mecca in order to begin praying. All mosques make these announcements, including a basic summary of the beliefs of Islam, in order to make all people (including non-Muslims) aware of the basic tenets of the faith. The <i>adhan</i> announces one of the Five Pillars of Islam, that there is no deity but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet. In my video below, you can hear the call to prayer being announced from multiple mosques at the same time (you can pick them out because they have towers next to them), and when the camera pans all the way to the right, you can see people stopping at the entrance to a mosque and taking off their shoes before entering to pray.</div>
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After a delicious Moroccan dinner - I had a beef <i>tajine</i>, where meat is slow-cooked in a conical shaped earthenware pot with apricots, nuts and a sweet syrupy sauce over coals - my parents and I turned in early after an overwhelming afternoon wandering the city. I don't often feel out-of-sorts due to culture shock, but I have to admit that even I was a bit thrown for a loop upon our arrival in the city. Thankfully most signs are in both Arabic and French (France had colonial power in Algeria, Tunisia and Morocco beginning in the 1830's, with control over Algeria lasting even up until the 1960's - hence a strong French influence in this region of Africa called the Maghreb), so my ability to read signs, menus, etc. and communicate with the locals who only speak English to a limited degree definitely helped me to feel more comfortable. Feeling more confident the next morning, we set out to explore the city some more.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfU6uo4wjnC4m_S0nvxLJGf7ur-EoVq_ZdIFOTVG0-WYkJ6zZGf7RIMqmcWvTzcmjBVLmsr1UFKpH-fLOAEG6QSWaDIZf6wnmGcL2tnQ45pyAPOj04XkhHqGePHHb0jDyr0sKp5P4pR7M/s1600/DSCN3232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfU6uo4wjnC4m_S0nvxLJGf7ur-EoVq_ZdIFOTVG0-WYkJ6zZGf7RIMqmcWvTzcmjBVLmsr1UFKpH-fLOAEG6QSWaDIZf6wnmGcL2tnQ45pyAPOj04XkhHqGePHHb0jDyr0sKp5P4pR7M/s1600/DSCN3232.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Koutoubia mosque's minaret, seen from Place Jamaa El Fna</span></td></tr>
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Venturing far across the city, we went to Les Tombeaux Saadiens, a site containing late 16th century tombs from the Saadian dynasty. Undiscovered until 1917, the brightly tile-covered tombs, along with their intricately carved architectural surroundings draw large crowds on a daily basis. For 10 dirham (about $1.25) you can stroll through the tombs and their gardens, peppered with orange trees and flowering shrubs. And cats! Marrakech is absolutely filled with stray cats - at any given time you can see 5 to 10 roaming around - and they really like to sun themselves inside the tombs.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The minaret for the mosque adjacent to the Saadian Tombs</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Cute little kitty getting some sun in the tombs' gardens</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRK2StbDYBN73KbkkfxVIKVOz_1Df4XRueBiess2MWdWvKwfF16Xb2gpVpgHDvfUlZWuDKkxrnU8vkKBG7MbXLLSl48tedk-Cv_Kz3R8vvtVPxfj1ycIR6gkE24soAxGyRxRgMcnya9Y/s1600/DSCN3267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRK2StbDYBN73KbkkfxVIKVOz_1Df4XRueBiess2MWdWvKwfF16Xb2gpVpgHDvfUlZWuDKkxrnU8vkKBG7MbXLLSl48tedk-Cv_Kz3R8vvtVPxfj1ycIR6gkE24soAxGyRxRgMcnya9Y/s1600/DSCN3267.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some of the less-decorated tombs. Those interred are buried on their left side facing the holy city of Mecca.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Architecture inside the tomb grounds</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSAJnvZXjRbKZmrfE4gt2T9pJY9qBoK1nPr3_Jzm_CD3iZXt-8IKT-Za89tOWqQ_3opY5hWELN-Omud8G6GosK5Gm7yb4PmsnAWikLqiKuawB5PlHdfVDkUaNeHHGJG4JyQts2o5Q5-0/s1600/DSCN3250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSAJnvZXjRbKZmrfE4gt2T9pJY9qBoK1nPr3_Jzm_CD3iZXt-8IKT-Za89tOWqQ_3opY5hWELN-Omud8G6GosK5Gm7yb4PmsnAWikLqiKuawB5PlHdfVDkUaNeHHGJG4JyQts2o5Q5-0/s1600/DSCN3250.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Crazily detailed, breath-taking stonework decorates the vaults</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj9GgX3YU9KEPreGDs1NnzKEBqmJdNRuKQsYpUZPjwJ7tQwWr5ruUpy3LcUS03CKba1QWOjRWnOOEkXygEUV-H5HkN-KP1MH7canSq1srMjN7uBbI6TqrmPUjIZvPZmAXLyzLF4MKsMqU/s1600/DSCN3275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj9GgX3YU9KEPreGDs1NnzKEBqmJdNRuKQsYpUZPjwJ7tQwWr5ruUpy3LcUS03CKba1QWOjRWnOOEkXygEUV-H5HkN-KP1MH7canSq1srMjN7uBbI6TqrmPUjIZvPZmAXLyzLF4MKsMqU/s1600/DSCN3275.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Room of the Twelve Columns, where Sultan Ahmad al-Mansur's son is entombed, richly decorated in carved stucco, mosaics, and painted cedar woodwork</span></td></tr>
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Our next adventure: a one-hour camel ride through a palm tree oasis! This was on my To-Do List for Morocco, and our riad was able to set it up for us. We took a taxi outside the city to the Palmeraie, a 32,000 acre palm tree oasis. Home to over 150,000 palm trees, glamorous golf courses and ritzy resorts, the Palmeraie is a nice escape from the bustling market atmosphere. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3MrV2dBBGSwmlBWJjgn7I_1bYYj2FDRpdPZg44Rbd9PjRdZXB7Jj_cweXRTruuU-ms9IMTmGsjSRqrt50oQApgElzk4yi2WJM6hpVR1knCmhUhmnCHc7MxUUHl27iZFTd63so8vOzmw/s1600/DSCN3302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3MrV2dBBGSwmlBWJjgn7I_1bYYj2FDRpdPZg44Rbd9PjRdZXB7Jj_cweXRTruuU-ms9IMTmGsjSRqrt50oQApgElzk4yi2WJM6hpVR1knCmhUhmnCHc7MxUUHl27iZFTd63so8vOzmw/s1600/DSCN3302.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Palmeraie</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The three of us formed a sort of camel conga line along with two other tourists from Lebanon and Mexico, and a Berber camel herder led us on a tour of the oasis for the next hour. No one quite prepares you, however, for the bizarre experience of riding a camel. For instance, we weren't aware that after awkwardly climbing up onto the camel saddle, your beast quickly stands up with its back legs first, launching you forward headfirst towards the ground - thankfully there's a handle on the saddle, or I would have been toast!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuzEPF_qs390zL9I2ooc915cq0Eo0upVYRUj4ZuZ6Ly-4gypKonzJaTZMDXNEiBaQ6h-z4okDccLaLuQqXUcfW_dC7GX0ueH8m_qgsWT_t3oepPAaBhAqucE-iiXyHuBdYBuxjxQPS1pc/s1600/20140304_144219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuzEPF_qs390zL9I2ooc915cq0Eo0upVYRUj4ZuZ6Ly-4gypKonzJaTZMDXNEiBaQ6h-z4okDccLaLuQqXUcfW_dC7GX0ueH8m_qgsWT_t3oepPAaBhAqucE-iiXyHuBdYBuxjxQPS1pc/s1600/20140304_144219.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me ever so gracefully climbing onto my camel</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPaCpHsKrfMPH1OqZIisO_V13JhMLWQ3hioEG6Cs7nJakkJ9zvQSMlQhc4aGQBIWJqqWrxyHRPFQaw7XRhr-ePFtkcSRPPDTFnI7FcAa6VVBQ_EeWkhiX4TWJbK9jejLJbYQZvZ81UX8/s1600/20140304_144225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPaCpHsKrfMPH1OqZIisO_V13JhMLWQ3hioEG6Cs7nJakkJ9zvQSMlQhc4aGQBIWJqqWrxyHRPFQaw7XRhr-ePFtkcSRPPDTFnI7FcAa6VVBQ_EeWkhiX4TWJbK9jejLJbYQZvZ81UX8/s1600/20140304_144225.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I<span style="font-size: small;">n shock after almost being launched off my camel as it got to its feet</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We got quite a laugh from that and then consequently chuckled the rest of the way, camels are strange animals full of bizarre sounds and lurching movements. Definitely something I'm happy to say I did - where else can you ride a camel at home besides in a parking lot next to the circus tent?!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxOr-ZF4WB6T88xhFZ0cjjrKA4ewZhGXOpaS2PhcRX7UGyn4aJR6lx3x2fkLuWdC1C3HglyeJ7zGAF1SpDOPhdZ8uIdmVvrpzFabzEddDHQjcV-5ue6VRvuD74X5CJbtD00tt-4NPzWA/s1600/20140304_144531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxOr-ZF4WB6T88xhFZ0cjjrKA4ewZhGXOpaS2PhcRX7UGyn4aJR6lx3x2fkLuWdC1C3HglyeJ7zGAF1SpDOPhdZ8uIdmVvrpzFabzEddDHQjcV-5ue6VRvuD74X5CJbtD00tt-4NPzWA/s1600/20140304_144531.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dad's new camel friend, who liked rubbing his nose on his jeans the whole time</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4G3-niSGcvf8xdIPASapFuB4mrX4CUKyRJnhnYl0nogLiljV523AmNtSONKm3-XBfQYeimQ63wh74PfIVc6Zcaw0lIPXdlqHS2FGugx0xnK0p0qNXXxYu5ZhacLnPAhDHEbmcLkKl11U/s1600/20140304_145412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4G3-niSGcvf8xdIPASapFuB4mrX4CUKyRJnhnYl0nogLiljV523AmNtSONKm3-XBfQYeimQ63wh74PfIVc6Zcaw0lIPXdlqHS2FGugx0xnK0p0qNXXxYu5ZhacLnPAhDHEbmcLkKl11U/s1600/20140304_145412.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mom leading the pack</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI1Qf0ozsGYyFf2V2enuCjUnadV29E_koQcuDRxgf4MnH4j-cWV9eDkP4uVlJOCzxtylChQi3psNAJji3vfSK6aPxUkrnWi8n4J9lThgFhLGn0UatJYIrNBQNI0UTAjeQvBsGUV1v9Vjs/s1600/20140304_151605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI1Qf0ozsGYyFf2V2enuCjUnadV29E_koQcuDRxgf4MnH4j-cWV9eDkP4uVlJOCzxtylChQi3psNAJji3vfSK6aPxUkrnWi8n4J9lThgFhLGn0UatJYIrNBQNI0UTAjeQvBsGUV1v9Vjs/s1600/20140304_151605.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just us and our dromedaries</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We talked with the other two people on our camel ride and decided we'd all head back into town and go visit Medersa Ben Youssef and the adjoining Musée de Marrakech together after our camel adventure was over. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixuHSUuEKJBCYw08v_7pbXrStWPGuyaN7UH16FnSIi6G4SxRtilr_YB9R66e6zaCJ4YPmrsf_Y9q-9SWj05TO1NmS43tCAK95Gx93-R_9rAEDjxn9lBHoAK0hEtLbksoN-n6fslXTx_yo/s1600/DSCN3339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixuHSUuEKJBCYw08v_7pbXrStWPGuyaN7UH16FnSIi6G4SxRtilr_YB9R66e6zaCJ4YPmrsf_Y9q-9SWj05TO1NmS43tCAK95Gx93-R_9rAEDjxn9lBHoAK0hEtLbksoN-n6fslXTx_yo/s1600/DSCN3339.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A former Islamic college attached to the Ben Youssef mosque whose students learned the Koran by rote, Medersa Ben Youssef was founded during the 14th century. You can visit the inner courtyard, richly decorated with bright mosaics and carved cedar woodwork, as well as some of the 130 student dormitory cells surrounding it. Medersa Ben Youssef was the largest theological college in Morocco, with a student body of up to 900 people, and finally closed in 1960.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4M3XUnO434MbBcfEU5-Z2ELMfKiUk_S_TUyO_qBexG1StM0P7zdKe5iwPlFLCv2wtwocKnrDPSoRUnOgvbnsWKXGX6IJ8GstyWmtDc2Yr0R43NPJPQdpBoEKG788RD8wibasZv4bNJE/s1600/2014-03-04+17.21.39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4M3XUnO434MbBcfEU5-Z2ELMfKiUk_S_TUyO_qBexG1StM0P7zdKe5iwPlFLCv2wtwocKnrDPSoRUnOgvbnsWKXGX6IJ8GstyWmtDc2Yr0R43NPJPQdpBoEKG788RD8wibasZv4bNJE/s1600/2014-03-04+17.21.39.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Whitewashed walls, bright mosaics and alluring carved stucco provides a peaceful, contemplative environment</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsvRAoU81MDrqqbTs7Ifv1ax_vk-jAwOL9OK9bAga4AUB73X78vgrGJ3UJKYfD76seTNf8slZBGr7fP00kqhFQH5xX2VRci_lkrL9dAhoHYwZ5gZk3q0aqHqyiQfgQ-XZns-BbsPfj7c/s1600/DSCN3316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsvRAoU81MDrqqbTs7Ifv1ax_vk-jAwOL9OK9bAga4AUB73X78vgrGJ3UJKYfD76seTNf8slZBGr7fP00kqhFQH5xX2VRci_lkrL9dAhoHYwZ5gZk3q0aqHqyiQfgQ-XZns-BbsPfj7c/s1600/DSCN3316.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">In Medersa Ben Youssef's central courtyard</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzo9LWCS-Eszj0KbKS1Ffcl1bw789jxoTKdSoDYNiGagVFlX0Gixa554iUyysI8mL0mMczLAihWmN3NDUeJ5Dy2JyrGOClXhvh2AJEMs1cqTzyMSzrWff9s4_LjiU3Gc5X5Tyo7ceh1q8/s1600/DSCN3313.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzo9LWCS-Eszj0KbKS1Ffcl1bw789jxoTKdSoDYNiGagVFlX0Gixa554iUyysI8mL0mMczLAihWmN3NDUeJ5Dy2JyrGOClXhvh2AJEMs1cqTzyMSzrWff9s4_LjiU3Gc5X5Tyo7ceh1q8/s1600/DSCN3313.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I can only imagine how many man-hours were required to sumptuously decorate nearly every visible surface of this building</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6o-yEXVkxiA1f1u0KwbVL8SY-u34BHBklE8mvPY1D865pOvVbpYR2qMl0xyFhfdUY1l6YvmyTrDU5MQinbBlWE-qnjsQVKRRIBc63HBbFS0iYS2D7M9xPkFgiBzsZjkYkCdIyPnXPFyE/s1600/DSCN3320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6o-yEXVkxiA1f1u0KwbVL8SY-u34BHBklE8mvPY1D865pOvVbpYR2qMl0xyFhfdUY1l6YvmyTrDU5MQinbBlWE-qnjsQVKRRIBc63HBbFS0iYS2D7M9xPkFgiBzsZjkYkCdIyPnXPFyE/s1600/DSCN3320.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Peering out of a dorm room</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Next door, the Musée de Marrakech is situated in the 19th century Dar Menehbi Palace and displays a vast collection of artifacts pertaining to the history of the city. Old coins, Berber pottery, games, books and musical instruments give you a taste of what life in Marrakech was like in former times.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNvZWxrXJkNT1Qu-8ZsKIMXu9w4MobuMtPAVHIJrQxGyV8pt1INckdg7Kl2PvPOSusqvbPAVBdKa6mq5rGI6oJW0qCeHbxZHw0cGsGwTWqenVzpmd0FFKlCBxo1Xp1SYYnsxBTgvFLHE/s1600/DSCN3345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNvZWxrXJkNT1Qu-8ZsKIMXu9w4MobuMtPAVHIJrQxGyV8pt1INckdg7Kl2PvPOSusqvbPAVBdKa6mq5rGI6oJW0qCeHbxZHw0cGsGwTWqenVzpmd0FFKlCBxo1Xp1SYYnsxBTgvFLHE/s1600/DSCN3345.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">An old tiled fountain in the museum's central courtyard</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 107%;">While checking out the exhibits you get to
explore the palace and even see inside its hammam, a sauna-like bathing room.
Marrakech is known for its hammams - they are often found just next to
mosques. Hammams are traditionally connected to ritualistic purification,
called ablution, where Muslims cleanse themselves before prayer. From
what I understand, you pay a nominal fee (sometimes just 10 dirham, about
$1.25) go into the hammam - essentially a giant steam room - steam for a
while and then have someone scrub you down with an exfoliating mitt.
Fancier/more modern hammams even include massages and herbal body wraps.
We were a little too apprehensive to wander into one of the dark, steamy
looking hallways you find off the main roads leading to the hammams and have a
stranger scrub us down, but maybe next time I'll be a little more adventurous!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUSwAYJr5MTVhPBgAK8b6hUZKjOq9QRzRGEZCF5zhZBN3rxbrTj3JXF8Tvmv8UXAZItOjCNuzCksKiCsXby_w0jrx407YQQrowYOwclQK0uzE6OXVQxSIeGHCRU6qkAtUW_EA5pjamoM/s1600/2014-03-04+17.42.18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUSwAYJr5MTVhPBgAK8b6hUZKjOq9QRzRGEZCF5zhZBN3rxbrTj3JXF8Tvmv8UXAZItOjCNuzCksKiCsXby_w0jrx407YQQrowYOwclQK0uzE6OXVQxSIeGHCRU6qkAtUW_EA5pjamoM/s1600/2014-03-04+17.42.18.jpg" height="122" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Inside the Musée de Marrakech</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
In Marrakech, it seems that all roads eventually lead back to Place Jamaa El Fna, so we once again found ourselves wandering through the souks back to the main square. We did our fair share of shopping along the way, though. Here, you must master the art of haggling if you don't want to pay exorbitant prices for things you buy. The rule: if the price isn't marked, it's between you and the craftsman to determine.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cfQGbqczsS1XjBoqnw5Bwvnwo-xJvJDSQc8Eht0DGhHGkYM58QwAR2fTIAttSltRxAN26AiPivqcpSYz8_fk_soyLwNu_RN7K85cBdxwBC1vh_GuGto2MmCWHfGljEQ2gm8eemOAG_I/s1600/DSCN3349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cfQGbqczsS1XjBoqnw5Bwvnwo-xJvJDSQc8Eht0DGhHGkYM58QwAR2fTIAttSltRxAN26AiPivqcpSYz8_fk_soyLwNu_RN7K85cBdxwBC1vh_GuGto2MmCWHfGljEQ2gm8eemOAG_I/s1600/DSCN3349.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ceramics on sale in one of the souks - note the conical tajine pots at the bottom right</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 107%;">For example, leather is made in Marrakech, and
consequently many shops are selling hand-crafted leather sandals, wallets,
purses, belts, etc. I found a really cute leather wristlet - purple with
embossed floral designs - at one leather workshop and asked the artisan how
much he wanted for it. He named his price: 400 dirham (about $48), which
in the US wouldn't be an exorbitant amount to pay for a nice leather purse.
In my research, however, I learned that buyers should start by offering
1/3 of the original offer and working up to a "realistic" price.
Thankfully, my mom and I make a good haggling team (feigning disinterest and
making for the exit when you're not getting anywhere helps too!) and a few
minutes later I walked out of the shop with my new purple purse which I had
snagged for only 150 dirham (only $18!). I was able to buy a bunch of
things for a fraction of the original price: a set of 6 bright Moroccan tea
cups ($16), colorful leather sandals ($9), even a hand-carved cedar wood donkey
($7) to put on my knick-knack shelf at home. If you had big enough
suitcases to haul everything back, you could buy up so many beautiful, locally
sourced, hand wrought items to furnish your home for insanely cheap prices that
it really blows your mind.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVr-8cZJwFbVG0F7ITYW_TwjIjMq9sximI5yUF1uTSW488xsICNM5oipU_hEPD_ZGwfRYjSKD6SVP_YfiB6cpDOAv56SYPoCOibGTROwnuicreJzXd9XWwdaz6YiiYZin-V3y2qX2mRnc/s1600/DSCN3355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVr-8cZJwFbVG0F7ITYW_TwjIjMq9sximI5yUF1uTSW488xsICNM5oipU_hEPD_ZGwfRYjSKD6SVP_YfiB6cpDOAv56SYPoCOibGTROwnuicreJzXd9XWwdaz6YiiYZin-V3y2qX2mRnc/s1600/DSCN3355.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A Berber Apothecary, selling traditional indigenous remedies for all sorts of ailments</span></td></tr>
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Here's a quick glimpse into the craziness of Place Jamaa El Fna. We enjoyed sitting in the sun with some refreshments and people-watching from various rooftop terraces around the square in the afternoons. It's like a giant game of I Spy: snake charmers (playing their stereotypical pungi music), Berber drummers, monkeys, stray cats...the list goes on! </div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">That night we splurged and made dinner reservations at a
fancy restaurant called Le Foundouk, specializing in traditional Moroccan
cuisine. I'm always eager to try regional specialties when I travel, and
I had read up on dishes typical of Marrakech before arriving, so when my eyes
spotted<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><i>pastilla</i> on the menu I couldn't resist. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rAsBIPTgrmLnMUjMVSdSOAGD4L1rr4mzaBqdy89Mfu3fCY8dD7Zaaq5wuJf_eHxfTfDqR4W4mUlvbyVmGM-RGMZ0tGrKJmTji1vMqcPm1JofpX3Fp4aJdbxe0OqZOEo9w7_PJbAQLFw/s1600/DSCN3358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rAsBIPTgrmLnMUjMVSdSOAGD4L1rr4mzaBqdy89Mfu3fCY8dD7Zaaq5wuJf_eHxfTfDqR4W4mUlvbyVmGM-RGMZ0tGrKJmTji1vMqcPm1JofpX3Fp4aJdbxe0OqZOEo9w7_PJbAQLFw/s1600/DSCN3358.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My delicious <i>pastilla</i></span></td></tr>
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What is<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>pastilla</i>, you ask? Pigeon pie, of course! Tender pigeon meat is baked
in a flaky pastry crust, drizzled with honey and topped with crunchy nuts -
absolutely delicious! (And in case you were wondering, pigeon tastes like dark
meat from a chicken.) While some might turn their nose up at this, I'd
definitely say it's a must-try. Wash that down with some Moroccan wine,
finish up with pistachio crème brûlée topped with a dollop of dark chocolate mousse and you've had
yourself a delectable, relatively inexpensive dinner. The three of us had
a veritable feast, complete with multiple rounds of drinks and desserts for less than $120 -
for the quality and quantity of food in such a nice restaurant back in the US,
there's no way you'd get away that cheap!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvVZv8tU4lSvTs7xFOO7mY3vvffDzo9e4lllBjvEwqpHroP6NEvmgVDsZ5fGT5Vna58izFFaZ3ZVRvMWo5NCl0bm9aQPRZ-UEwQnO_AGunpfK-zy2xOyc2W4V4c_qZ3dbVMErMfI91SM/s1600/20140305_112922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvVZv8tU4lSvTs7xFOO7mY3vvffDzo9e4lllBjvEwqpHroP6NEvmgVDsZ5fGT5Vna58izFFaZ3ZVRvMWo5NCl0bm9aQPRZ-UEwQnO_AGunpfK-zy2xOyc2W4V4c_qZ3dbVMErMfI91SM/s1600/20140305_112922.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">Enjoying the sun during our <i>calèche</i> ride through the city</span></td></tr>
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We started our last full day in Marrakech by hiring a <i>calèche</i>, or horse-drawn carriage, to take us for a tour of the city. Our driver brought us through both the old and new cities, and we were able to cover a lot more ground in an hour than we could ever roam on foot! It was a nice relaxing way to see the city - and soak up some sunshine! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The <i>kasbah</i> walls, marking the fortress around the medina (old city)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmu4Jmoe8AO31HEEwU_kuBRLV7p5UpF0vZhW0r1ogTvUDGbhr-cxh7eKY11iFtLp5wE4nqhA-5F_IqSEMITa_3QW5uDyqKFiIDfAIUKBza0OcOR-Ih155_yBiduoezr_AovKP70kAgmk/s1600/DSCN3367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmu4Jmoe8AO31HEEwU_kuBRLV7p5UpF0vZhW0r1ogTvUDGbhr-cxh7eKY11iFtLp5wE4nqhA-5F_IqSEMITa_3QW5uDyqKFiIDfAIUKBza0OcOR-Ih155_yBiduoezr_AovKP70kAgmk/s1600/DSCN3367.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Koutoubia minaret</span></td></tr>
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Roaming through the souks again, I couldn't resist getting a henna tattoo on my hand. A paste made of powdered leaves from the henna plant and various essential oils, henna is applied to the skin using a cone or syringe, and as the paste dries it stains the skin a bright orange to dark brown color. The designs can last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks - I was disappointed that mine was gone within a week, but due to sunny weather the design is now fixed in negative form on the back of my hand due to my tan - cool anyways I guess!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My henna!</span></td></tr>
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We also headed across town to visit two former palaces: Palais El Badi and Palais de la Bahia. Palais El Badi (meaning "The Incomparable Palace" in Arabic) sits mostly in ruins today but was commissioned by the sultan in 1578. Originally composed of 360 rooms, an underground prison and a massive swimming pool, El Badi was richly decorated with Carrara marble brought all the way from Italy, as well as tons of mosaics. It took 25 years to build, but was then completely looted over a period of 12 years in the 17th century after the rise of a different dynasty of sultans. Today, most of the central courtyard has been turned into an orange grove, and a phalanx of storks now calls the top of its walls home.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnLA918tCsSDHbmCCjV8xhuy2y-LG8nhxQ0sC_BrJYGFFLdMHb_NtOq0OcYQO4LB9TIqslVWtFZ-6w1p2JhlLlZDLj3ptSBbBvQi5a4QPb4kDFUAXmTX7bRmdG1VfvmMtqzzDoZbMblg/s1600/DSCN3407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnLA918tCsSDHbmCCjV8xhuy2y-LG8nhxQ0sC_BrJYGFFLdMHb_NtOq0OcYQO4LB9TIqslVWtFZ-6w1p2JhlLlZDLj3ptSBbBvQi5a4QPb4kDFUAXmTX7bRmdG1VfvmMtqzzDoZbMblg/s1600/DSCN3407.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Storks nest along the top of Palais El Badi's walls</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzkVo2F9N2Qem-hABPyOUyAmemcyV4e1BbxjlVrNy0-LeKK2wCQQWMUuFnM22nzdG_Al1hhyR-FTM6g2Z8KSber_RDlPAo1btTSXJHy5ILWCzhIvkXVAtjt3CbxstmaUcq_im-Wy4gl4/s1600/DSCN3404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzkVo2F9N2Qem-hABPyOUyAmemcyV4e1BbxjlVrNy0-LeKK2wCQQWMUuFnM22nzdG_Al1hhyR-FTM6g2Z8KSber_RDlPAo1btTSXJHy5ILWCzhIvkXVAtjt3CbxstmaUcq_im-Wy4gl4/s1600/DSCN3404.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Inside the walls of former guest apartments at Palais El Badi</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4_ZznHWR7OMVOhXG_2RssH8lEFnykoYs-xTq-KnQVWeIYfY_-5cAtO1VtnynIBNYaUwR5P85-Tlr4CQE-__hsBP4O8XEHDyRpjgdxsIefb1FaXw9P09bWm-JrDXmLYN_QPQk48XcrZ4/s1600/DSCN3414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4_ZznHWR7OMVOhXG_2RssH8lEFnykoYs-xTq-KnQVWeIYfY_-5cAtO1VtnynIBNYaUwR5P85-Tlr4CQE-__hsBP4O8XEHDyRpjgdxsIefb1FaXw9P09bWm-JrDXmLYN_QPQk48XcrZ4/s1600/DSCN3414.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">El Badi's central courtyard, with a view of the snowy Atlas mountains in the background</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3z4BV68l8nSikbN-30dh6L0hsypIKybeJgiqL1QKCJUpqvVrjWocUFyeSkbDvZqwVbrmnam_sck9tuFyzL72J6zQOdPYYY7pZzVhnv0vwp6OsNHVthDs0apn72HKm5_vJYZcDAqUQymk/s1600/20140305_143505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3z4BV68l8nSikbN-30dh6L0hsypIKybeJgiqL1QKCJUpqvVrjWocUFyeSkbDvZqwVbrmnam_sck9tuFyzL72J6zQOdPYYY7pZzVhnv0vwp6OsNHVthDs0apn72HKm5_vJYZcDAqUQymk/s1600/20140305_143505.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Enjoying the mosaics and a break in the shade</span></td></tr>
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Next stop on our palace tour: Palais de la Bahia ("The Beautiful Palace"). Begun in the 1830's and completed by 1900, this palace was built by two different viziers (advisers) to the sultan and has a rather erratic plan. Gardens, courtyards, and special areas to house the visiers' harems make for a maze-like visit through the palace. Once again, colorful mosaics, intricate carvings and bountiful gardens embellish the palace grounds...I'll let the pictures do the talking:</div>
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Dinner that night was quite the adventure - we braved the night markets of the central square to find a delicious fresh-cooked feast! Place Jamaa El Fna transforms mid-afternoon as the snake charmers leave, the infamous transvestite belly dancers appear, and the night markets set up shop. Row after row of tents complete with kitchens, dining areas and very friendly workers appear to try to entice you into eating at their stand. Literally every "restaurant" is selling the same thing for the same prices, it's just a matter of which one you decide to stop at. Fresh couscous, roasted vegetables, shish kebabs made from saffron chicken, prawns, lamb, kefta (beef) and fish, potato cakes, herb-marinated olives and of course fresh Moroccan flatbread called<i> khobs</i> await the hungry visitor. As many tourists (including us) are wary about eating in markets here (they get a bad rap for gastrointestinal distress - not due to lack of cleanliness, per se, but for the fact that visitors aren't accustomed to drinking the local water used in food prep and dish-washing), many vendors shout things like "Eat at number 85, stay alive!" or "2 year no diarrhea guarantee!" . We had a delectable feast and I would definitely advise stopping for dinner at the night market to anyone passing through!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our chef at the night market, clearly proud of his fire-roasted peppers</span></td></tr>
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I would recommend Marrakech hands-down as a travel destination. While at times you feel completely outside your comfort zone, I found it refreshing to get a taste of a culture so dissimilar to my own. Francophones will have an easier time getting by here, but the locals are very welcoming to all and a little kindness and patience on behalf of the tourist goes a long way to making your trip here an enjoyable and memorable one! Most importantly: keep an open mind! You never know what neat things you'll discover when you open yourself up to a new way of life.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvp9pO3Y2idS8C04bmWzpxWTdnE9AkwQy8OgLPWjfXqCnvlSb9HGcC6poPDJIy7UICTgfSdg74cUuY23AdDyukz3yyzVdnsOzH4NiVACuhTA6KnDsl6For3n3TDG6dG7q1lNi7MVAaTw/s1600/20140305_210440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvp9pO3Y2idS8C04bmWzpxWTdnE9AkwQy8OgLPWjfXqCnvlSb9HGcC6poPDJIy7UICTgfSdg74cUuY23AdDyukz3yyzVdnsOzH4NiVACuhTA6KnDsl6For3n3TDG6dG7q1lNi7MVAaTw/s1600/20140305_210440.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Drinking our tea the fancy way - pinky out!</span></td></tr>
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One last tea-time back at our riad, and it was time to pack up our bags - for the next morning, we were off to Madrid!</div>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-64266013641820126382014-02-25T13:16:00.001-05:002014-02-26T17:16:23.240-05:00Adventures in Alsatian Cooking: The Flammekueche (Plus Random Adventures)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCnmAlTv5gXOA-XlIzbR_xOxz1JK04MeWdgD9OV8SbDZ-jIkJ3z72p0RFlzNOzae5uO1Zt6q0d26DRjp92kUn0O5BACl7qWyk7DjYEA7bmBDSTBTrMMK3zIWhts965Tc3Z20TFwuj5L8/s1600/DSCN3195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCnmAlTv5gXOA-XlIzbR_xOxz1JK04MeWdgD9OV8SbDZ-jIkJ3z72p0RFlzNOzae5uO1Zt6q0d26DRjp92kUn0O5BACl7qWyk7DjYEA7bmBDSTBTrMMK3zIWhts965Tc3Z20TFwuj5L8/s1600/DSCN3195.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ruins of the Schlossberg in Forbach</span></td></tr>
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As I'm a huge fan of cooking (and eating!), I've decided that there's no better time to channel my inner Julia Child and whip up some French cuisine than while living in France. With a gamut of "exotic" French ingredients readily available at the local supermarket, strolling the aisles and picking something new to try is always an adventure. Recently, I've cooked up <i>confit de canard</i> (duck thighs preserved in duck fat and then roasted in the oven - my favorite!), crêpes, <i>coq au vin </i>(chicken simmered with mushrooms, carrots and onions in a delectable red wine sauce), <i>boudin</i> (blood sausage) with balsamic-glazed apples...the list goes on! And a few nights ago, Meike and I decided to cook something which is more of a regional specialty: <i>flammekueche</i>. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBE939Vn6wunQeRUvBzT8RHDCA0LWJ6gjEDkpU18Qco19HtO1_vfzZbT-fW6mBsvaEWTOwAKAPgBC4hOjfqG8nWMpZVr0NZ_elLnQiaLojUVBPnKgw5bKratcvvs6fmtONRYYEhs2xx34/s1600/AlsaceLorraine_map-799870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBE939Vn6wunQeRUvBzT8RHDCA0LWJ6gjEDkpU18Qco19HtO1_vfzZbT-fW6mBsvaEWTOwAKAPgBC4hOjfqG8nWMpZVr0NZ_elLnQiaLojUVBPnKgw5bKratcvvs6fmtONRYYEhs2xx34/s1600/AlsaceLorraine_map-799870.jpg" height="400" width="387" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Alsace-Lorraine region of France</span></td></tr>
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Though this dish is technically from our neighboring French region of Alsace (we live in Lorraine), our two regions are often lumped together in terms of cuisine and tourism and collectively known as Alsace-Lorraine (close enough!).</div>
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What is a <i>flammekueche</i>, you ask? Also known as a <i>tarte flambée</i>, or more simply a <i>flamm</i>, it's essentially a thin-crust pizza traditionally baked in a wood-burning oven. Comprised of very thin dough covered with <i>crème fraîche </i>(similar to sour cream), <i>Bibeleskäse</i> (fresh cheese with a yogurt-like consistency), or some combination of the two, the <i>flamm</i> is topped with a dash of salt, pepper & nutmeg and then sprinkled with thin-sliced onions and chunks of French smoked bacon - what's not to love? Throw a little grated Gruyère cheese on top and you've got yourself a <i>flamm gratin</i><i>é</i><i>e</i>. Swap out the cheese for mushrooms,<i> et voilà</i>, a<i> flamm foresti</i><i>è</i><i>re </i>is born. The possibilities are endless!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipmqtepGdS263zIS1mXXjM35cqeOorP-OWkGO9s8QOR8zn50SySszr5KHkif2Ks_jUStKp6jmSCmdWQgsPCj05yXAwN7xSVhpHFvsxOxDAo0EkJNgiUnE3KmMeFbzEBvbmbNm9ZAMjA5g/s1600/flam.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipmqtepGdS263zIS1mXXjM35cqeOorP-OWkGO9s8QOR8zn50SySszr5KHkif2Ks_jUStKp6jmSCmdWQgsPCj05yXAwN7xSVhpHFvsxOxDAo0EkJNgiUnE3KmMeFbzEBvbmbNm9ZAMjA5g/s1600/flam.jpeg" height="256" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At a restaurant, you usually eat your flamm right off a wooden pizza peel!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">With humble rural origins, the </span><i style="text-align: justify;">flammekueche </i><span style="text-align: justify;">is traditionally served as an appetizer and paired with a chilled glass of crisp Alsatian wine like Riesling, </span><span style="text-align: justify;">Gewürztraminer or Pinot Gris. Since the 1960's, their popularity has grown and now many restaurants serve <i>flamms</i> as a main course as well, just as you'd order a personal pizza in the US. Originally a meal for the working-class, farmers would use them to celebrate their bread-baking day (which occurred only once every 2 to 3 weeks) by saving a bit of their bread dough and turning it into this sumptuous, bubbly treat. <i>Flamms</i> would be popped into the oven while it was heating up to cook the bread, and the workers would all gather around the oven to warm up and hopefully grab the first one to come off the fire.</span></div>
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We've enjoyed numerous <i>flamms</i> at local restaurants, so Meike and I decided we'd take a shot at making our own!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpkDn5Amb0OduVjLuAC8eNsfvWbn5Oyag28oZt9BmFgxCNSIJGorzuo-echHRDokIhaLeciuoHRd2cIQLASoAwgLoGhyMEFnF86opGpG6D3z2NKMmS0meL7PGD45K8InlIsISTBpl33kM/s1600/DSCN3198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpkDn5Amb0OduVjLuAC8eNsfvWbn5Oyag28oZt9BmFgxCNSIJGorzuo-echHRDokIhaLeciuoHRd2cIQLASoAwgLoGhyMEFnF86opGpG6D3z2NKMmS0meL7PGD45K8InlIsISTBpl33kM/s1600/DSCN3198.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before baking...</span></td></tr>
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Here's the recipe we used (although the variations on the crust recipe are infinite!)...</div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><u>Flammekueche for 4 people</u></span><br />
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Oven: as hot as it will go</div>
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Ingredients for the crust:</div>
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- 250 grams flour (2 cups)</div>
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- 50 mL vegetable oil (1/4 cup)</div>
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- 1 pinch of salt</div>
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- 1 glass of lukewarm water (very specific, I know...I just added enough until I had a pizza dough consistency)</div>
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- no leavening agents</div>
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Mix the flour with the salt and then add the water and knead well until you obtain something that feels like pizza dough. Form it into a rectangle on a cookie sheet and try to make it as thin as possible without tearing.</div>
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Topping:</div>
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- 20 cl of thick crème fraîche (a little less than a cup)</div>
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- 100g fromage blanc (about 1/2 cup of farm fresh cheese - plain yogurt might be the closest substitute?)</div>
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- 3 onions</div>
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- smoked bacon cut into matchsticks</div>
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- salt & pepper to taste</div>
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- dash of grated nutmeg</div>
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- 1 tablespoon vegetable oil</div>
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1. Preheat the oven as hot as it will go without using the broiler. (You want the heat to come from the bottom of the oven just like for pizzas).</div>
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2. Mix the crème fraîche and the fromage blanc in a bowl. Add the oil, and then season with salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste. (If you're using particularly salty bacon, go easy on the salt!)</div>
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3. Thinly slice the onions (preferably on a mandolin) so they'll be able to cook quickly in the oven.</div>
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4. Spread the cream/cheese mixture on the crust, but be sure to leave a border around the edge of about 1 cm. Top with bacon and onions, but don't overdo it - remember: this is supposed to be a light pizza. Add additional toppings (like grated cheese or mushrooms) if desired.</div>
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5. Pop the flamm into the oven, but keep an eye on it. Cook for between 8 and 12 minutes - the crust should start to become golden and the onions should look cooked. Slice it up and serve hot!</div>
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**We ended up needing to double the dough recipe - as we don't own a real rolling pin, stretching the dough extra thin was quite difficult. The amount of toppings was perfect though!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7GmRlVcA1WIBhTKQLeRAKpKy2bH6M-yvhdxMmprKCpKfmhRcav5ofSWvQ2whh7lHO17bKUTMYFtlvJsE_J-ST9ObJDXYK9nwvbLS-qwT7lVFukKDezhVcwyLAzK5AfsxCHK46G3Pzibw/s1600/DSCN3200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7GmRlVcA1WIBhTKQLeRAKpKy2bH6M-yvhdxMmprKCpKfmhRcav5ofSWvQ2whh7lHO17bKUTMYFtlvJsE_J-ST9ObJDXYK9nwvbLS-qwT7lVFukKDezhVcwyLAzK5AfsxCHK46G3Pzibw/s1600/DSCN3200.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">After baking!</span></td></tr>
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Although a bit labor-intensive, the end result was pretty tasty! If you're ever passing through Alsace-Lorraine, make sure you try one of these French "pizzas" - you won't be disappointed!</div>
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And as for my recent adventures outside the French culinary sphere...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgciyyXqzdH_ymNd2DJBW17H_rN9N78mc1AoipnbHgHbZYaC1lUhT3MF3R6CcQ9GCVtlu-ZiC1gWRSuAGxcjz2d1As7AEHeXQefco99rHfifWCYSxT_w9sBmQGDDMTLeVWQPgFpJSYv2tw/s1600/DSCN3182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgciyyXqzdH_ymNd2DJBW17H_rN9N78mc1AoipnbHgHbZYaC1lUhT3MF3R6CcQ9GCVtlu-ZiC1gWRSuAGxcjz2d1As7AEHeXQefco99rHfifWCYSxT_w9sBmQGDDMTLeVWQPgFpJSYv2tw/s1600/DSCN3182.JPG" height="297" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the Phoenix concert in Paris (check out the awesome Hall of Mirrors background from Versailles!)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">I spent a weekend in Paris with Kasey at the beginning of the month - we had tickets to see the French rock/electronic band Phoenix live in concert at the Palais des Sports. (They're from Versailles, just outside of Paris, but sing in English - the lead singer's actually married to American director Sofia Coppola. While not hugely popular in the US, they do get some airtime on the radio - check out a video from the concert below!) The sold-out concert was absolutely spectacular and we had a fun weekend full of late-night/early-morning debauchery as well...</span></div>
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And then Meike and I spent the next weekend back at her house in Germany with her family. Her oma (grandma) turned 80 and there was a party for her at a restaurant on Sunday to which I was invited , but we got some relaxing and sight-seeing in as well. We went for a dip at the local pool, checked out the architecture at the cloistered Schöntal Abbey (founded by the Cistercians in the 12th century), and did important things like catch up on DSDS (the German version of American Idol - has the same intro music and all, but no Ryan Seacrest...) and Der Bachelor (you guessed it, The Bachelor - equally superficial and ditzy here too!). It was great to spend a weekend away from Forbach with some familiar faces in a family setting, and I'm hoping to squeeze in one last visit before I return to the US!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">The church at Schöntal Abbey</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3GJ9Kokt-W7_U_cvlKNFUzidKsAHIT1KVbxtF_8vCXwBxBXiXNMmtp2kFLA88mOgDUimwTA62OvDa7cu-B-0XeSDUfOkpCypDBwPOFpOKT09Bxd5nemsEldTHy5kxvCVgXP0eu0cRs-Q/s1600/DSCN3184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3GJ9Kokt-W7_U_cvlKNFUzidKsAHIT1KVbxtF_8vCXwBxBXiXNMmtp2kFLA88mOgDUimwTA62OvDa7cu-B-0XeSDUfOkpCypDBwPOFpOKT09Bxd5nemsEldTHy5kxvCVgXP0eu0cRs-Q/s1600/DSCN3184.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Impressive baroque decor inside the church</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcnYb-JYRajRKvB3VsomLPI_osWPU9_07pO_b5yIKq4Q5MpEHrLw4DBEYBKkk0bvM_HCcNSvUML9C2AkD9SPZYt3uG9dREFI_tumeJerCvCLXW0MTuyT-BYsAe7DTGQgkpVLIDDaMqRwI/s1600/DSCN3188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcnYb-JYRajRKvB3VsomLPI_osWPU9_07pO_b5yIKq4Q5MpEHrLw4DBEYBKkk0bvM_HCcNSvUML9C2AkD9SPZYt3uG9dREFI_tumeJerCvCLXW0MTuyT-BYsAe7DTGQgkpVLIDDaMqRwI/s1600/DSCN3188.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike and her brother Stefan at Schöntal Abbey</span></td></tr>
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I'm just wrapping up 8 weeks of continuous teaching (a whopping total of 96 hours of work!) since the last break and am looking forward to having the next two weeks off - my parents get to Paris on Sunday morning and then it's time to do some travelling together! Stay tuned for news from my coming adventures!</div>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-56412000770361129742014-02-02T15:39:00.000-05:002014-02-02T16:04:45.943-05:00Mon 24e Anniversaire à Paris!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Big 24!!</span></td></tr>
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January 26 marked the 24th anniversary of my entry into this world - and what better place to spend it in than Paris?! Ever eager to head back to the big city, I took a train on the evening of Friday, January 24 and headed up to Paris where my parents had booked a hotel room for Meike, Kasey and I for the weekend. (Sadly, Meike's grandfather had passed away earlier during the week, so she had to head home for services during the weekend instead of celebrating with us - but she was there in spirit!) </div>
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As I didn't arrive in the city til late Friday night, Kasey and I decided to lay low and save our energy for Saturday night instead. On Saturday, we each did our own thing for most of the day - I had some errands I wanted to run and Kasey had a meeting and some paperwork to get done. Paris is a very flat city (with the exception of Montmartre) so it's ideal for strolling around and people watching, conveniently two of my favorite activities!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVp37m0p-DKeTrE63KXybHl-BKZTotgCq_ijK1DIMydOMhBvJG9stSPxArq2K2cQg7AenW8-PFU05Gcb2RD5ckxuURTUJMXH2YH6PsLjxRLyhkDeKH4F_syIRGd-fxqX-Fh3Aq_sUglr0/s1600/2014-01-25+16.37.15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVp37m0p-DKeTrE63KXybHl-BKZTotgCq_ijK1DIMydOMhBvJG9stSPxArq2K2cQg7AenW8-PFU05Gcb2RD5ckxuURTUJMXH2YH6PsLjxRLyhkDeKH4F_syIRGd-fxqX-Fh3Aq_sUglr0/s1600/2014-01-25+16.37.15.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just passing by the French Senate building in the Jardin du Luxembourg - can't wait until it's springtime and this park is in full bloom again!</span></td></tr>
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After grabbing a ham, egg and cheese <i>crêpe</i> from my favorite little hole-in-the-wall in the St-Michel neighborhood, I munched and shopped on the <i>rive gauche</i> for a while. January is famous for <i>les soldes </i>(the huge annual sale events in most stores) and consequently wherever you decide to shop, from little boutiques to huge department stores, is jam-packed with people who are sifting through every last item, hoping to snag that one item whose price is too-good-to-be-true. [But putting up with the crowds can be worth it - I happened to snag a pair of boots that started at 80€ for under 35€ in Metz a few weeks prior!] Prices are slashed up to 80% in some places, so you can really score some good deals if you have the patience to pick through the store displays that have been literally turned upside down by all the other bargain-hunters. I actually felt bad for the poor employees who had the arduous task of re-folding all of the clothes that had been rifled through, what a thankless and never-ending job!</div>
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I had also read online that there was a Breaking Bad expo taking place at the Fnac (similar to Best Buy) inside Forum des Halles, a large underground mall in the heart of Paris. Being such a fan of the show, there was no way I was going to miss it - even if it meant battling the crowds inside the mall to get to it!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_vSAdUb-5nOhBL7793-AbRysyJzmmGw1zZN25dWzmvOWTGuYIyzHQsSuzg4VqCvxsuOAl_xz5LYSkvFJsG0kXLyW0OZo8yOk-2Ljv10sA3m3jsFmI3nOOuOdvMyQ4VvJeVDf5ciu5WY/s1600/2014-01-25+13.53.00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_vSAdUb-5nOhBL7793-AbRysyJzmmGw1zZN25dWzmvOWTGuYIyzHQsSuzg4VqCvxsuOAl_xz5LYSkvFJsG0kXLyW0OZo8yOk-2Ljv10sA3m3jsFmI3nOOuOdvMyQ4VvJeVDf5ciu5WY/s1600/2014-01-25+13.53.00.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tada!</span></td></tr>
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While the expo was a bit smaller than I was expecting, there was still a neat collection of costumes and props from the show on display. I had to chuckle at some of the awkwardly translated signs that explained the contents of the case in French, but nonetheless I was impressed.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCpuu4xbjkAqInbd9-4A35mpNik4oaBAW_R_orYjDS56OL9E_07eOOEcVpl_ktOqQPw5RGwHMa_7fpjZQMS1kqs5sy_xRgs8SG_IkSeVzoJZzm6jUxItrOvkBqsSRU3xScM9YBIMQ-zA/s1600/2014-01-25+13.52.40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCpuu4xbjkAqInbd9-4A35mpNik4oaBAW_R_orYjDS56OL9E_07eOOEcVpl_ktOqQPw5RGwHMa_7fpjZQMS1kqs5sy_xRgs8SG_IkSeVzoJZzm6jUxItrOvkBqsSRU3xScM9YBIMQ-zA/s1600/2014-01-25+13.52.40.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A fry batter bucket and other props from Los Pollos Hermanos</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCWntxxrBM98q3aCWRe3XBVcLOcC-QUtjdUPgcM2p21z9s1HdQyFdQRkw_qtIaaDsqAL4AQt69KFzYXAf6HeX19HZCfUusVfuMRimfEpSWaeS483RZj_O4JaG5TeUmduiC78AwGrtA1ik/s1600/2014-01-25+13.53.22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCWntxxrBM98q3aCWRe3XBVcLOcC-QUtjdUPgcM2p21z9s1HdQyFdQRkw_qtIaaDsqAL4AQt69KFzYXAf6HeX19HZCfUusVfuMRimfEpSWaeS483RZj_O4JaG5TeUmduiC78AwGrtA1ik/s1600/2014-01-25+13.53.22.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of Jesse Pinkman's typical thug outfits - although I was disappointed Aaron Paul wasn't there to live-model them!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBhNpDUQSD2px1RA4MLEuLVgNz8HbYjfCfEI_EjMwmAjxjsbPagiJc6BkBAXT_sFD0oOh0dq27GXP1iZLDWUbJ5Hk9AUdIHob3iPw_6gzM7LlOVOUL5lWfba3JKMvGdVNGl1mtr2frJW8/s1600/2014-01-25+13.54.02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBhNpDUQSD2px1RA4MLEuLVgNz8HbYjfCfEI_EjMwmAjxjsbPagiJc6BkBAXT_sFD0oOh0dq27GXP1iZLDWUbJ5Hk9AUdIHob3iPw_6gzM7LlOVOUL5lWfba3JKMvGdVNGl1mtr2frJW8/s1600/2014-01-25+13.54.02.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A "White Family Photo" and Skyler's mug from Ted Beneke's office</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVjEBgBX9Txxd4R5r1Ee2QOFQ_zHCYgX6vEUBBys5_MOEVe1XkyHPcIZAs6c2mMln3P79xiKwel1_Y9Ihewl3vAJmfSpAvlm_BgnCITRbMqkz9z3KeYFSMfGAaNJDMvEV2FmcvPkq74s/s1600/2014-01-25+13.54.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVjEBgBX9Txxd4R5r1Ee2QOFQ_zHCYgX6vEUBBys5_MOEVe1XkyHPcIZAs6c2mMln3P79xiKwel1_Y9Ihewl3vAJmfSpAvlm_BgnCITRbMqkz9z3KeYFSMfGAaNJDMvEV2FmcvPkq74s/s1600/2014-01-25+13.54.31.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Jesse's license plate!</span></td></tr>
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After my shopping spree was over (not that I bought anything worth mentioning) & I had gotten my Breaking Bad fix, I headed over to the 20th <i>arrondissement</i> to visit my former host parents, Béatrix & Quentin. We had a great time swapping stories for a couple hours and popping a bottle of birthday champagne - they really are the sweetest, most welcoming people you could know and I always feel like I'm going back "home" whenever I swing by to say <i>bonjour</i>! It's so comforting to have familiar faces who are so happy to see you when you find yourself in a land thousands of miles from your real home.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Notre-Dame, still sporting her Christmas tree</span></td></tr>
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Swinging back to our hotel in the 10th <i>arrondissement</i>, it was time to don my party dress and get ready for an evening of celebrating! After getting all pretty, Kasey and I jetted over to the infamous Rue de Lappe in the Bastille neighborhood for a delicious dinner of traditional French fare. My <i>confit de canard</i> (duck which has been preserved in its own fat and then tenderly roasted until the meat gracefully falls off the bone) was cooked to perfection, and some home-made <i>mousse au chocolat</i>, along with a bottle of my favorite Côtes du Rhône wine rounded out my meal. In typical French fashion, we took our time eating and didn't leave the restaurant til nearly 11pm!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjayBNxanaUFcPCikDGBqOIysOMfzcRSFVL2avsp7D1Orc2QWSE773EyAQQJ991AUkmWCNQRZNMfZponwvcWpCC9HWaoULtbF2D2CuITqto1XZBMyhfLrytJ83F14_z2p75ZUzhjBk5L0c/s1600/20140125_211010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjayBNxanaUFcPCikDGBqOIysOMfzcRSFVL2avsp7D1Orc2QWSE773EyAQQJ991AUkmWCNQRZNMfZponwvcWpCC9HWaoULtbF2D2CuITqto1XZBMyhfLrytJ83F14_z2p75ZUzhjBk5L0c/s1600/20140125_211010.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Keeping it classy in black and hot pink - ready to hit the town!</span></td></tr>
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Next stop, house party! We had been invited to a party at one of Kasey's friend's houses just on the edge of the city, and after a ride on the metro involving some sketchy characters, we arrived just in time to see the clock tick midnight - the official start to my birthday! The evening was fun and relatively low-key, but if my headache the next morning was any indication, I thoroughly enjoyed myself!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;">Sacré-Coeur</span></td></tr>
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Before taking the train back to Forbach, I took a birthday stroll in one of my favorite Parisian neighborhoods. Ambling along with the crowds of tourists (I was told school break in Italy was taking place while I was there, so there were tons of Italians vacationing in Paris at this moment!), I didn't fail to once again become captivated by the beauty of Sacré-Coeur basilica, crowning the butte of Montmartre. And even though it was a foggy day, the view of the city from the top of all those stairs you climb to gain access to the church was (and always is) worth the effort. </div>
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Upon arriving back in Forbach, I was greeted by Meike and a spread of birthday gifts from her and her family - even a chocolate-covered birthday cake! We had some cake, I opened my presents, and it was a nice quiet evening to finish off my birthday extravaganza weekend. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My birthday cake and German-imported presents :)</span></td></tr>
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What's on tap next? This coming weekend, I'll once again be headed back to Paris to stay with Kasey and then see a concert by the French band Phoenix on Saturday night. The following weekend, Meike and I will head back to her house in Öhringen. And a month from today, my parents will be touching down in Paris to spend a 10-day whirlwind adventure with me, with stops in Marrakech and Madrid along the way! I had such a great time showing them around France when they came to visit me two years ago, and I can't wait to explore some new places with them this time!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My parents and I at the Louvre in 2011</span></td></tr>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com1Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-69473061132926550422014-01-14T09:03:00.001-05:002014-01-14T09:03:32.085-05:00Les Vacances de Noël - New Years in Germany<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YFvBqBNOSUrJXhdTBpYyYqy_-7E5AO6UCw5_vEUv0zHm1KLDyKlYDVMT7gabpECPGOdkfKb0cyJRGvwPMqzpZB8f4vMLeJBKd0tVypCz9Aya_5cIzD7jonYJu6pqoTkxLLe9guSaTTE/s1600/IMG_4433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YFvBqBNOSUrJXhdTBpYyYqy_-7E5AO6UCw5_vEUv0zHm1KLDyKlYDVMT7gabpECPGOdkfKb0cyJRGvwPMqzpZB8f4vMLeJBKd0tVypCz9Aya_5cIzD7jonYJu6pqoTkxLLe9guSaTTE/s1600/IMG_4433.JPG" height="293" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Meike and I along the Kocher River in Schw<span style="line-height: 107%;">äbisch Hall</span></span></td></tr>
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With the Christmas portion of my winter break behind me, I boarded a train early on the morning of the 26th bound for my roommate Meike's house in Germany. I always manage to get my fill of trains when I travel, and 7 hours later I arrived in Heilbronn, a short drive away from <span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Öhringen, where Meike's family lives. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Arriving at her house, I was greeted with lots of hugs, smiles, a champagne toast and even some German Christmas carols! How's that for a warm welcome? Meike and I exchanged Christmas presents next to her real, life-size, nicely decorated Christmas tree (quite an upgrade from our drooping tree branch in Geneva!) and we spent the rest of the night relaxing and watching movies.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here's a look at my "adoptive family" in Germany!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJaZnn0Ioq5TwsvR8jaAztJwNHvQcWCl1Yh0mkaxfHUd_i3t3ZeVjC_YLf82VX-3f0R8w8mPKJqwRb-RhMYewHc0MV1EhuEnzJtiCGJXLN4NKykuyvMYcawLR-3BgoSHDuil77gDISBn4/s1600/IMG_4440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJaZnn0Ioq5TwsvR8jaAztJwNHvQcWCl1Yh0mkaxfHUd_i3t3ZeVjC_YLf82VX-3f0R8w8mPKJqwRb-RhMYewHc0MV1EhuEnzJtiCGJXLN4NKykuyvMYcawLR-3BgoSHDuil77gDISBn4/s1600/IMG_4440.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike's mom Heide and I in Waldenburg</span></td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzyujr4-XsswOqcBuQBPvz_PaWxcDZhd21CnCS8cF_5mXzyD_W6W_eAPp0YaVa2bNUWxZkc6VoYSHHtLTLfPuNezVxgaqzdbd38lenYYXkQR80QCweXcXWZLOFR1knSsA4jVoENgWVCqg/s1600/DSCN3167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzyujr4-XsswOqcBuQBPvz_PaWxcDZhd21CnCS8cF_5mXzyD_W6W_eAPp0YaVa2bNUWxZkc6VoYSHHtLTLfPuNezVxgaqzdbd38lenYYXkQR80QCweXcXWZLOFR1knSsA4jVoENgWVCqg/s1600/DSCN3167.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Meike's dad, J<span style="line-height: 107%;">ürgen, Meike, and her Opa (grandpa) in Rothenburg</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvvEO5OCIflF8NBZhLatXTqW7zE18-C0AN2am7YN8BM-_VgDhztPCWcZrRzBpVVLNNL3vn2RWgJpGeAOtq72VJ09tPtVEcEnugCkey15R09eHssI3TQ1bYAs7ldtG12mmKI1jSfS2jhd8/s1600/IMG_4447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvvEO5OCIflF8NBZhLatXTqW7zE18-C0AN2am7YN8BM-_VgDhztPCWcZrRzBpVVLNNL3vn2RWgJpGeAOtq72VJ09tPtVEcEnugCkey15R09eHssI3TQ1bYAs7ldtG12mmKI1jSfS2jhd8/s1600/IMG_4447.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike's younger brother Paddy</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuANsC4iU9PNmpbzzqxjUnsW9jLuKWkQYQBoQGSeHGwpeS9b-P3Nfi1a-kB1wFYdivSL7VLhD-dX_N6mq8hpV1_AN_xfzM0PPGa5Qy3-Ca7ZK2XSJz5A7KWw1ds4e1ObdvkTJfzSqNXtM/s1600/IMG_4460.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuANsC4iU9PNmpbzzqxjUnsW9jLuKWkQYQBoQGSeHGwpeS9b-P3Nfi1a-kB1wFYdivSL7VLhD-dX_N6mq8hpV1_AN_xfzM0PPGa5Qy3-Ca7ZK2XSJz5A7KWw1ds4e1ObdvkTJfzSqNXtM/s1600/IMG_4460.JPG" height="283" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike's older brother Stefan</span></td></tr>
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The weather was incredibly mild during my stay, so we were able to take advantage of the sunny days to get in quite a bit of sight-seeing. We started off by checking out <span style="line-height: 17px;">Öhringen, a town in the state of Baden-W</span><span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: center;">ü</span><span style="line-height: 17px;">rttemberg in the southwestern part of the country. Located on the site of an ancient Roman settlement known as <i>Vicus Aurelii</i>, the town is steeped in history, with buildings dating from Medieval and Renaissance periods, as well as an impressive Evangelical church. Meike's dad works in the town hall, so we were even able to get an extensive behind-the-scenes tour of the fancy rooms inside which escaped destruction during the war.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48P9XkxQ3NrBfOOJaCzsQlB44Wo5W9zWItQkVdM1JbktbijpB-4szg6ryyvLCpXV6T8Yf1Nbhypy85C7jAUdDXuD0GmMNSt8SfxbTqgFgPmY8mgkTLQa-NCemUyR4_I3mPXDfG9QfmHY/s1600/DSCN3090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48P9XkxQ3NrBfOOJaCzsQlB44Wo5W9zWItQkVdM1JbktbijpB-4szg6ryyvLCpXV6T8Yf1Nbhypy85C7jAUdDXuD0GmMNSt8SfxbTqgFgPmY8mgkTLQa-NCemUyR4_I3mPXDfG9QfmHY/s1600/DSCN3090.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some of my friends at the town zoo</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji55UcUQFOqm5lK8bczk7kIi8TIxTOK_2HVC87VMUSeHSTfb2Yu8DBEurcVG8BZCTgzsIA4GXq-VsKMxX87kVoAZSrjAEyI5FyPciwqplEK2UC6GjwABxgJW6U4lCrLqqmQqJhJYMMwtA/s1600/DSCN3093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji55UcUQFOqm5lK8bczk7kIi8TIxTOK_2HVC87VMUSeHSTfb2Yu8DBEurcVG8BZCTgzsIA4GXq-VsKMxX87kVoAZSrjAEyI5FyPciwqplEK2UC6GjwABxgJW6U4lCrLqqmQqJhJYMMwtA/s1600/DSCN3093.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The town is full of really cool old half-timbered buildings</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFur6ELUmsWLSL3GR1TCBM9DgeTR-Nl4kvu4QR3H77u_G6KERBWl5lAVVWL4rHpc2DRiGPcrmECo69Y_o-jF64aLjsvYkzksJU4f7ybX8Vv8C6VAO7Gt_hOPi2xv4ChQIKX-8ZyqJYxoU/s1600/DSCN3094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFur6ELUmsWLSL3GR1TCBM9DgeTR-Nl4kvu4QR3H77u_G6KERBWl5lAVVWL4rHpc2DRiGPcrmECo69Y_o-jF64aLjsvYkzksJU4f7ybX8Vv8C6VAO7Gt_hOPi2xv4ChQIKX-8ZyqJYxoU/s1600/DSCN3094.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Intricately carved wooden altarpiece inside <span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">Öhringen's huge church</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFH-w_edEl1tZqJ5t16qQ7tikYQC-cH5NmSvIGjhqXtzxxbmOUDUVPvhK7JAyfLnZkWmRy0IyccJbaoq_Hx0ekZWi0EHgfOmfLyL34Tg7CauMNRQD5HqcvTymjezkNtYUM_YttnEClCac/s1600/DSCN3096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFH-w_edEl1tZqJ5t16qQ7tikYQC-cH5NmSvIGjhqXtzxxbmOUDUVPvhK7JAyfLnZkWmRy0IyccJbaoq_Hx0ekZWi0EHgfOmfLyL34Tg7CauMNRQD5HqcvTymjezkNtYUM_YttnEClCac/s1600/DSCN3096.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The church's giant Christmas tree</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6v9wkWictWJczbLgw4lm25ldI7Dn12gyExRsSekTLXRgZZBp4VqAgp1kmRwXGg_wn28vere89OKMo2Gthp1MIGlt-vIEp8bhesP1EtgZMqLBqFkQOK7nNClnkNBCiDkN5sLTBffaGBI/s1600/DSCN3097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6v9wkWictWJczbLgw4lm25ldI7Dn12gyExRsSekTLXRgZZBp4VqAgp1kmRwXGg_wn28vere89OKMo2Gthp1MIGlt-vIEp8bhesP1EtgZMqLBqFkQOK7nNClnkNBCiDkN5sLTBffaGBI/s1600/DSCN3097.JPG" height="293" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike by the Oberes Tor, the gateway to the city dating from the 18th century</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3sn6ZipoFQHFh4YtCwCV5h_dGpPywODyKOEkGupVPtnGaz4ViNym9pO4xux82GzP2-PusJA2px8eXJ_1hyfPYS-jKm8hShnInlyTdxUWJ4j3aNhDOnkj1aZeUDUY-bp9rnN_8exQiw-k/s1600/DSCN3099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3sn6ZipoFQHFh4YtCwCV5h_dGpPywODyKOEkGupVPtnGaz4ViNym9pO4xux82GzP2-PusJA2px8eXJ_1hyfPYS-jKm8hShnInlyTdxUWJ4j3aNhDOnkj1aZeUDUY-bp9rnN_8exQiw-k/s1600/DSCN3099.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pedestrian shopping zone...why can't Westfield have one of these??</span></td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 17px;">Later on, Meike's parents took us to check out </span><span style="text-align: center;">Schw</span><span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: center;">äbisch</span><span style="line-height: 17px;"> Hall, a city located about half an hour from </span><span style="line-height: 17px;">Öhringen. Quite prosperous during the Middle Ages due to the city's link with local salt mines, </span><span style="text-align: center;">Schw</span><span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: center;">äbisch</span><span style="line-height: 17px;"> Hall provides an eclectic mix of ancient and modern architecture housing a wealth of <span style="font-family: inherit;">shops and caf</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">é</span><span style="line-height: 17px;">s. Straddling the Kocher River, the city was a picturesque place to spend the afternoon.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitaRKyMiXmZcMpFHV285U7_jPZ8vmPjkbzNhtpY9WG34AsUP6w9GLxQAjyf6s61ZhmJTNoVcTJe2H-TuMARZf-myr2_8A1sKwjZPgZErmHvi7Sxcut_mg0p8iPrHH8T2PXhuRVeCOXug/s1600/DSCN3101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitaRKyMiXmZcMpFHV285U7_jPZ8vmPjkbzNhtpY9WG34AsUP6w9GLxQAjyf6s61ZhmJTNoVcTJe2H-TuMARZf-myr2_8A1sKwjZPgZErmHvi7Sxcut_mg0p8iPrHH8T2PXhuRVeCOXug/s1600/DSCN3101.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Old houses along the banks of the Kocher</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJnaEHQJYw4OWWK3mIeYf2dvxYflCjbwUhDAgLAuYIwp99RnLOA7iOvEhIfFBqitGbVPRRByqTWmW4AdZBkoKRQwrUaosTLWzwIhdDMs_CmDhQ02MVmAdB6kjp0f7evistjrzLx0MtL4/s1600/DSCN3105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJnaEHQJYw4OWWK3mIeYf2dvxYflCjbwUhDAgLAuYIwp99RnLOA7iOvEhIfFBqitGbVPRRByqTWmW4AdZBkoKRQwrUaosTLWzwIhdDMs_CmDhQ02MVmAdB6kjp0f7evistjrzLx0MtL4/s1600/DSCN3105.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">St. Michael's Church, consecrated in 1156 and completed during the early 16th century</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">We made a special stop at a museum to check out the city's most prized piece of art: the Holbein Madonna. Painted nearly 500 years ago by Hans Holbein the Younger, "Madonna of the Lord Mayor Jacob Meyer zum Hasen" (more simply, the Holbein Madonna) the beautifully vivid painting is among the most important works by the Old Masters. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNU_jfkVrExYq8A6grIq316PAfR67eBy4bJdRgnBLwksvaR6od4xBurXvWjgBiOe66e6k3Avr6zfRQrRyZPz3BQy5pNHJOeKSrru2OOq3LlFJSS3Ke0JMb_IeAfbot6ruMJ_fAVg8kDg/s1600/Holbein+Madonna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNU_jfkVrExYq8A6grIq316PAfR67eBy4bJdRgnBLwksvaR6od4xBurXvWjgBiOe66e6k3Avr6zfRQrRyZPz3BQy5pNHJOeKSrru2OOq3LlFJSS3Ke0JMb_IeAfbot6ruMJ_fAVg8kDg/s1600/Holbein+Madonna.jpg" height="400" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Holbein Madonna</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">Unfortunately, none of the art history classes I had taken in college focused too intensely on the Old Masters or many artists outside of France and Italy (which I find quite strange), but it was nice to discover a new artist and a beautiful work that I would have otherwise not known about. In the work, the Virgin Mary cradles the Christ child while her cloak spreads out around those kneeling below her, indicating that she is the "Virgin of Mercy." The artist's great talent with oil paints is evident through the life-like details he gives to peoples' faces, the vibrant, billowing fabrics, and the ruffled carpet that you want to reach out and touch. Purchased for the W</span></span><span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: center;">ürth Collection in 2012, the painting fetched a whopping $70 million (over 51</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span>€<span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: center;"> million) - the highest price ever paid in Germany for a piece of art. Thankfully visitors can get nose-to-nose with the Virgin without shelling out that kind of money, as there is no charge to explore the museum's impressive collection of religious artwork.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 17px;">Öhringen's also great because it has lots of green space and plenty of paths for scenic strolling. We enjoyed numerous walks in the countryside, through orchards, fields, and copses of trees. And as I love taking pictures, especially when there are puffy white clouds against a bright blue sky, it was the perfect opportunity for some nature shots of the German countryside...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0V3DCojlF67evhaD1jqcZMLRHm5zGeeoWww0jop-2V_qiStZ1xVs4oBOnR7LrRtHr2ezwpeksgm9iXFYzALbHDGHKrW_wrwmmusNM3diXwTpZssdLEVkbsc9FOExojUOjvzRWUhal3j4/s1600/DSCN3107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0V3DCojlF67evhaD1jqcZMLRHm5zGeeoWww0jop-2V_qiStZ1xVs4oBOnR7LrRtHr2ezwpeksgm9iXFYzALbHDGHKrW_wrwmmusNM3diXwTpZssdLEVkbsc9FOExojUOjvzRWUhal3j4/s1600/DSCN3107.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 17px;">Meike's mom took us up to the town of Waldenburg for some scenic views of the area - the town sits high atop a plateau overlooking the valley where they live. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIwfjZv71xS4eoMhFNLehVKDypiV3zsIr6ogadoQJFQqfmbRyJ3eCSiAIboMKG02mBuRA2e0JBvc84F_4lOM4iQCeT-RWouU4vcM6soj0QU7eFS2fCUMQLLLAWKW2qLcRgO4pjZrYzAk/s1600/Waldenburg_Luftaufnahme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIwfjZv71xS4eoMhFNLehVKDypiV3zsIr6ogadoQJFQqfmbRyJ3eCSiAIboMKG02mBuRA2e0JBvc84F_4lOM4iQCeT-RWouU4vcM6soj0QU7eFS2fCUMQLLLAWKW2qLcRgO4pjZrYzAk/s1600/Waldenburg_Luftaufnahme.jpg" height="387" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Waldenburg on its perch above the surrounding valley</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The town of Waldenburg as seen from its hiking trails</span></td></tr>
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We also went to the city of Heilbronn one night to catch the annual Weihnachtscircus, the Christmas Circus! I don't think I had been to a "real" circus (besides Cirque du Soleil, but that's a whole different animal) since I was maybe 10 or 12 years old, so I was excited to compare my German circus experience to those I had seen in West Springfield as a kid.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's Christmas Circus time!</span></td></tr>
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No tacky red-and-yellow striped circus tents here! The show was inside a series of big white tents, including a Christmas market-like concession stand where you could buy everything from German beer to giant pretzels, roasted almonds and cotton candy. Apparently people are very serious about being the first ones to pick their seats at the circus, because outside of a concert mosh pit, I don't think I've been squeezed and jostled around in a crowd quite like that before!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The circus tent</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">View from our seats</span></td></tr>
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The circus was much more professional than the Big E circuses I had been to years before, and even the tent was nicer - no bad animal smells and you didn't feel like you were sitting in a barnyard. They had lots of acts with animals - prancing ponies, zebras, lions & tigers; acrobats, tightrope walkers, and even the Ball of Death! One thing that did surprise me was the lack of clowns, as there was no clown car full of goofy looking people with lots of make-up, red noses and colorful wigs. Instead, there was a lone guy who did funny things to entertain the kids in between acts. And another surprise: a live band provided the music! As it was a Christmas circus, after all, there were plenty of Christmas songs being played, and they sure sounded a lot better than the tinny, piped-in music you hear at the circus in the States. The only downfall was my lack of understanding every time the ringmaster came out to introduce the acts in German - but I guess that comes with the territory!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike and I enjoying the show</span></td></tr>
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The next thing I knew, it was already New Year's Eve (or <i>Silvester</i>, as it's called in Germany)! Meike called up some of her friends and we had a little gathering at her house, complete with a gourmet dinner: raclette! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike, Corinna and I all dolled up for New Years</span></td></tr>
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As far as I am aware, raclette doesn't really exist in the US - which is quite a shame because it is so delicious. Basically, it's a community meal where you have this cheese-melting, grill-like contraption in the center of the table, and everyone roasts up their choice of ingredients and tops their plate off with a big bubbling chunk of raclette cheese. YUM!! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">New-school raclette</span></td></tr>
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The world "raclette" is both the name of the dish and the type of cheese you use to make it. Originating from the French verb <i>racler</i> (to scrape), and before the days of these fancy grill contraptions, a giant wheel of cheese would be heated up and then the outermost melty layer would be scraped off onto a plate of roasted potatoes, deli meats and veggies. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Old-school raclette</span></td></tr>
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Not only did we stuff ourselves with a delicious cheesy dinner, we also gathered in front of the TV to catch a German New Year special: a short comedy sketch from 1963 called "Dinner For One." Much like Americans don't consider it to be Christmas without watching "A Christmas Story" on TV, here in Germany this skit is a must-see on New Year's Eve. Although it's a British comedy sketch, and apparently relatively unknown in the English-speaking world, Germans have adopted it as part of their yearly festivities - consequently "Dinner For One" holds the Guiness World Record for the most frequently aired TV show in history.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdAp-D6nO6a2TWBSPzfs5lapT8Rc2fUzuxY-dr4pEx6RLpwisv5cRZsse7RQsd_OeRRmcUh3PJboGkGu8GQuv_-KxO8-nsJslPsgNyZzq87P5HAiA1Ef6SXotT0C1X2MD6PHOM7obNKA/s1600/dinner+for+one.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdAp-D6nO6a2TWBSPzfs5lapT8Rc2fUzuxY-dr4pEx6RLpwisv5cRZsse7RQsd_OeRRmcUh3PJboGkGu8GQuv_-KxO8-nsJslPsgNyZzq87P5HAiA1Ef6SXotT0C1X2MD6PHOM7obNKA/s1600/dinner+for+one.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dinner for One's famous tagline: "The same procedure as every year..."</span></td></tr>
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Basically, it's Miss Sophie's 90th birthday, and just as she has every year, she's hosting a dinner party for her four friends (all of whom she has outlived, yet she continues to invite them). It's up to her manservant James to serve the food and drinks for each course, and then go from seat to seat impersonating each guest...and drinking all of their drinks. While it's a bit corny at times, I've included this 10-minute long German cult classic below so you can see what all the fuss is about! </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/LVCA1rp-gfg?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: center;">Another German New Year's tradition: using molten lead to predict your future!</span><i> Bleigießen </i>(pronounced BLYE-ghee-sen, and meaning "lead pouring") is a New Year's activity where you melt a small amount of lead on a spoon over a flame, then dump the molten metal into a bucket of water. Once the metal is cool, you fish it out of the water and decide what it looks like; shapes correspond to a chart with attached fortunes. For example, if the lead forms a ball, luck will roll your way. Does it look like a cross? Then you'll probably die! To my untrained eye, my lead blob looked like a whale - unfortunately, that wasn't one of the possible options, so I guess I'll just have to wait and see what the coming year has in store for me!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My piece of lead, pre-melting</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">During the melting process...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The finished product!</span></td></tr>
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But wait, there's more! We can't forget about Feuerwerk! Fireworks are an integral part of many celebrations, and New Year's in Germany is no different! Just as you can buy children's games involving lead in the supermarket, you can also buy kick-ass fireworks to set off just as the clock strikes 12. We all bundled up and headed over to the city center just in time to catch all the hoopla (and add to it ourselves!).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy New Year!!</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RtyRzNNWPNPJe3u8_Jw2GDVi9xJE9HYlVi31aY6uvyY3gN8ogN3IMmU1DDV0zWkL6qfoHrm0VSLI_Jn9snIH8xTiw624y92_7CW2b7KOlaQR6cyYBr6bjWngzrgvuUTZR5n65x3r3LY/s1600/DSCN3127.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2RtyRzNNWPNPJe3u8_Jw2GDVi9xJE9HYlVi31aY6uvyY3gN8ogN3IMmU1DDV0zWkL6qfoHrm0VSLI_Jn9snIH8xTiw624y92_7CW2b7KOlaQR6cyYBr6bjWngzrgvuUTZR5n65x3r3LY/s1600/DSCN3127.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZ6zTXDPWKhSeo0JtT4pnVgy9V06uYZfOzAebBLnHm_9U006m3r7R4b1jWPwt82lWlKvB6ucffmODGj-gNEQJsv8EccsTVWgbjP3zthPq9TO62oFSnjpH-nhTzS2r0NPY2L0dlqzkuEM/s1600/DSCN3130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZ6zTXDPWKhSeo0JtT4pnVgy9V06uYZfOzAebBLnHm_9U006m3r7R4b1jWPwt82lWlKvB6ucffmODGj-gNEQJsv8EccsTVWgbjP3zthPq9TO62oFSnjpH-nhTzS2r0NPY2L0dlqzkuEM/s1600/DSCN3130.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">You can never be too old for sparklers!</span></td></tr>
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After our fireworks show, we ended the night dancing our feet off at a local bar-turned-club, where the cover charge included champagne - score! They had a really good DJ and it made for a fun end to an enjoyable night. </div>
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Post-New Year's recovery, Meike, her brother Paddy and I took a day trip to Stuttgart for some shopping and a visit to the Porsche Museum. While it was a rather dreary day, I had a great time checking out the city and it was nice to do some leisurely sight-seeing. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsbekV-zvSy_LeOotcdeezTdK9sFrrgFrcO2PPxdfZtfu9LL_J7nasjKGJOaxQYlKhUHs2bdP5w-xjXWEl9fQJUrj3dw2A8EnN8TNsKx7mFLnKk8cVDoCLNv1P4Xfj0YZGXQRJx__NY8/s1600/DSCN3139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsbekV-zvSy_LeOotcdeezTdK9sFrrgFrcO2PPxdfZtfu9LL_J7nasjKGJOaxQYlKhUHs2bdP5w-xjXWEl9fQJUrj3dw2A8EnN8TNsKx7mFLnKk8cVDoCLNv1P4Xfj0YZGXQRJx__NY8/s1600/DSCN3139.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Stuttgart's main pedestrian zone, as seen from the top of a look-out tower</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiDzwWjy1x1NpcqVocgrUfRPdnMtjvrTM9aRPblhqeKXVmvZSGI-sAUqUCQJRZsqk_7SAb7sMMSYfPR2O8_BnWDZY8mzR9fh5KqqOu3uPzOVrBTvlK3a-7jsmgFtt6e1zeyCE0OcitbI/s1600/DSCN3141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiDzwWjy1x1NpcqVocgrUfRPdnMtjvrTM9aRPblhqeKXVmvZSGI-sAUqUCQJRZsqk_7SAb7sMMSYfPR2O8_BnWDZY8mzR9fh5KqqOu3uPzOVrBTvlK3a-7jsmgFtt6e1zeyCE0OcitbI/s1600/DSCN3141.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Schlossplatz and Stuttgart's castle</span></td></tr>
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The Porsche Museum is an impressive work of art in itself. Super modern on the outside and incredibly streamlined on the inside, the museum is conveniently located right across the street from a Porsche dealership, just in case you see a car inside that's a must-have! While I was really impressed looking at all the cars, I feel like my brother and a bunch of my guy friends would have been in heaven drooling over engine specs and other information that was posted, yet means nothing to me! For a virtual tour, and to see some of the cars on display, click <a href="http://www.porsche.com/museum/en/">here</a>!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Porsche Museum opened in 2009 and cost over 100 million Euro to build</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYgAV8c9J49cHHkGKzLxPB8BopCau4yD7gVrMHPFaDhXKLTo4OmVNOH4VJFCNZ0sy-7lv25HbsoA7ez0ZKMXcffy-QT7y6IG4rIlL0m3fK_EWJfUeoipKowOkU4CCYpR5WeUQQJjKY7w/s1600/DSCN3148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYgAV8c9J49cHHkGKzLxPB8BopCau4yD7gVrMHPFaDhXKLTo4OmVNOH4VJFCNZ0sy-7lv25HbsoA7ez0ZKMXcffy-QT7y6IG4rIlL0m3fK_EWJfUeoipKowOkU4CCYpR5WeUQQJjKY7w/s1600/DSCN3148.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3dsq7YJpp4Dn2r4iPyb0TxPE0grGpMzi311oNCRV7GzZhyz8zFD6bkASPPYzOF0ByY9Q_oppPRbmYqy3DhJQGQsTztZHODXV4D3je9NpQKxM70PySuahTvXLoVAzgHdhEZypNRDH44s/s1600/DSCN3150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3dsq7YJpp4Dn2r4iPyb0TxPE0grGpMzi311oNCRV7GzZhyz8zFD6bkASPPYzOF0ByY9Q_oppPRbmYqy3DhJQGQsTztZHODXV4D3je9NpQKxM70PySuahTvXLoVAzgHdhEZypNRDH44s/s1600/DSCN3150.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">More than 80 different vehicles are on display inside this ultra-modern exhibition hall</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiew8FsyDloQpxDl7zy00sIGL55YtZpDvDXKFveUoOKNun-tOwHml0Bp_YFskcnC8QW5gEiI-q-zOuxShwyMXW4MokWXjadacBE1orH_5gsrN7pimG6D4p8MFaTZ9i2R1I1-e1yGuXH1oo/s1600/DSCN3146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiew8FsyDloQpxDl7zy00sIGL55YtZpDvDXKFveUoOKNun-tOwHml0Bp_YFskcnC8QW5gEiI-q-zOuxShwyMXW4MokWXjadacBE1orH_5gsrN7pimG6D4p8MFaTZ9i2R1I1-e1yGuXH1oo/s1600/DSCN3146.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike, Paddy and I with the Pig Car, divided up into all the different cuts of pork</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgGZ4FJa12E_QjscjmklGUSYfLu9iCiw34sBA3d1DIiXIOiuBYldbXLMy2M7wR7ucjdpOh5SSNyuKUqOyyiALMIzOjD3RSe2qXbClj7_oDwpkJo2rv-inW1k8o4moYzx7TUgUTCuhwyo/s1600/IMG_4453.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgGZ4FJa12E_QjscjmklGUSYfLu9iCiw34sBA3d1DIiXIOiuBYldbXLMy2M7wR7ucjdpOh5SSNyuKUqOyyiALMIzOjD3RSe2qXbClj7_oDwpkJo2rv-inW1k8o4moYzx7TUgUTCuhwyo/s1600/IMG_4453.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">From race cars to sports cars to SUVs, this museum has it all</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWQtp6lRtA-eXtGcJkOx__x6MQtcpMHQpqs9iMpPlCLdudKcRz-a8jQyauU_3FDEuK1jCBO8zD8d14Oif44ssKAmUgEDie2Zdq4fMXtTK-S08sP3wpzLw7IVhiBFvkIsA78ZojYtYE_Zo/s1600/DSCN3153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWQtp6lRtA-eXtGcJkOx__x6MQtcpMHQpqs9iMpPlCLdudKcRz-a8jQyauU_3FDEuK1jCBO8zD8d14Oif44ssKAmUgEDie2Zdq4fMXtTK-S08sP3wpzLw7IVhiBFvkIsA78ZojYtYE_Zo/s1600/DSCN3153.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Taking Paddy for a spin in the 911</span></td></tr>
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A final day trip to the Bavarian city of Rothenburg ob der Tauber rounded out the sight-seeing portion of my visit to Germany. Meike's dad and grandpa were more than happy to show us around this neat little medieval town. To enter Rothenburg, you must pass through ancient gateways in the city's fortified walls. Once inside, a quaint German village awaits, complete with cobblestone streets and multicolored pastel buildings - from the American point of view, it's everything you'd imagine the stereotypical cute little German town to be like. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxSyUSRiDm2IzatWstnEGdzSwFN1dwPdZugLChMtwb-4Uofmj2NiTlgQOYUN1uk4iwoOQDclqsZ_X5LIcJPEJdEfCIniJ674ZD_MTT4PfXFPyFf39bVd-3iLchOMSOitY6i19u9r-Xsg/s1600/DSCN3158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxSyUSRiDm2IzatWstnEGdzSwFN1dwPdZugLChMtwb-4Uofmj2NiTlgQOYUN1uk4iwoOQDclqsZ_X5LIcJPEJdEfCIniJ674ZD_MTT4PfXFPyFf39bVd-3iLchOMSOitY6i19u9r-Xsg/s1600/DSCN3158.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just inside Rothenburg</span></td></tr>
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We made a stop at St. Jakob's (English: St. James') Lutheran church to marvel at its two intricate altars. This church was one of the many stops along the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in Spain, where St. James' grave is located (Santiago = Saint Iago (Spanish) = Saint James). Saint James can always be spotted in religious artwork, as he clutches a pilgrim's staff and wears a scallop, the symbol of pilgrimage, on his hat. Churches containing the scallop symbol were visibly marked as pilgrimage sites, helping the often illiterate faithful during the Middle Ages to find their way along famous pilgrimage routes. (See, I did pay attention during my Medieval Art & Architecture lectures!) Dating from 1466, the High Altar features some very impressively carved figures detailed in vibrant colors and gold leaf. Depicting Christ and the Twelve Apostles, the Crucifixion, various angels and saints, and even the Legend of St. James, this altarpiece impresses the modern viewer and would have surely helped its medieval admirers to better understand some of the Biblical tales.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The High Altar at St. Jakob's</span></td></tr>
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The Altar of the Holy Blood is also a wonder to behold. Suspended above the carved wooden panels is a reliquary made of rock crystal which is said to contain a sample of Christ's blood. The rare relic has been drawing pilgrims to Rothenburg since the Middle Ages, and with them, their money. Pilgrims would pay money to the church in order to pray for blessings before the holy relics, and even today, visitors to the church must leave a "donation" of 3 Euro in order to view the art inside its walls.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZcuNu-VZ3PdeXSF23elESUUBn1ADCeYsxQf8s7MpfFDxuyi3p9ym0S_iXpEheUmx0ack2GFCqSrVMX7Talw_wIWJFURYc0DdTer6QSLBcAoDaFlM-ieFyfmJksT27quVh1rytRgihrjw/s1600/DSCN3159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZcuNu-VZ3PdeXSF23elESUUBn1ADCeYsxQf8s7MpfFDxuyi3p9ym0S_iXpEheUmx0ack2GFCqSrVMX7Talw_wIWJFURYc0DdTer6QSLBcAoDaFlM-ieFyfmJksT27quVh1rytRgihrjw/s1600/DSCN3159.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Altar of the Holy Blood</span></td></tr>
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We stopped by the town's Christmas Museum to see the vast collection of European Christmas ornaments and decorations on display. While it was a bit kitschy, I still got quite an education on things like Krampus, the Christmas Monster. Pretty much the anti-Santa, Krampus is a legendary creature of Alpine folklore who would sneak around punishing naughty kids during the Christmas season - if you were bad enough, he'd even kidnap you and take you to his lair. But fear not: I'm pretty sure Krampus is too busy abducting children in Europe to worry about kids in the US!</div>
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Our visit to Rothenburg was rounded out with some delicious mugs of <i>Glühwein </i>(pronounced "GLU-vine," meaning 'mulled wine'), piping hot bratwursts, and some <i>Schneeballen</i> for dessert. Famous in Rothenburg and meaning "snowball" in German, these pastries are made from strips of shortcrust pastry wound together into a ball shape, deep-fried, and coated with a variety of toppings. I picked out an amaretto flavored one which had a rich marzipan center and was coated with almond-flavored white chocolate, then rolled in chocolate sprinkles. You can find them dusted with powdered sugar, rolled in dark chocolate and nuts, filled with pistachios, Cointreau...you name it, they've got it!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxG8t2udg7hLMHejMx8GbQTCZhfuBzGzL2rpwT9JDcAWyj4f28DDy4gF7SAPal6caeiDRv-yEJyqflzjc9Bmu7WEeJ4CFwZxmDbutUxgYXAqUuOmqZBH2aeIEwuHWEl7Himfc9I_5ro20/s1600/BLOG+Schneeballen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxG8t2udg7hLMHejMx8GbQTCZhfuBzGzL2rpwT9JDcAWyj4f28DDy4gF7SAPal6caeiDRv-yEJyqflzjc9Bmu7WEeJ4CFwZxmDbutUxgYXAqUuOmqZBH2aeIEwuHWEl7Himfc9I_5ro20/s1600/BLOG+Schneeballen.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Delicious, sugary <i>Schneeballen</i></span></td></tr>
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One last thing about my trip I want to comment on: language! I was <i>extremely</i> impressed with Meike's friends' and family's knowledge of English and their willingness to talk to me about everything and anything. In Germany, everyone learns English in school, and sometimes even a second foreign language on top of that - why can't we have awesome foreign language requirements like that in the US?! I think it would make for a much more well-rounded population...but that's just me... </div>
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It was really strange when I arrived the first day and we were all speaking English - here in Forbach, Meike and I only ever speak French together, so it seemed almost unnatural to be using English! As I don't speak German (although I definitely expanded my lexicon during my stay!) and only Meike's dad and older brother know some French, English was our go-to choice for communication. Consequently, a few things got "lost in translation" and made for a good laugh all around...</div>
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One of a few humorous examples:</div>
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During one of our many dinnertime discussions, conversation turned to wild animals. Meike's dad started telling a story about how one of his friends has this animal which lives in his yard and comes right up to the house every morning to eat the food he leaves out for his cat. I asked what type of animal it was, and he told me it was an eagle! I laughed because I had this crazy mental image of an eagle swooping down and eating cat food off some guy's porch every morning and expressed how strange this was to me - not at all, they said! Her dad then went on to tell me that one day, when he was in the backyard taking care of the family's pet rabbit, he reached down into a box to pull out some hay and there was and eagle hiding inside in the hay! This really made me laugh, because I had no idea that eagles liked to burrow underneath piles of hay...so I did my best eagle impersonation, complete with flapping arms and eagle-screech, and everyone laughed...but they had no idea why I was pretending to be a bird! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjcFXDOb1RYTi3_qJyNVEalf0bwXw1L_XKZdFxvsHKhOhBabnKu_HJTkcsFZTSM3Rol0bGFaJSoXVTS2s71vQTOy1RcrQDJTf7B6wDfRfZ2J5Ql06_DL_-P7rExy6okvmUc_EOoVh2bo/s1600/igel2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjcFXDOb1RYTi3_qJyNVEalf0bwXw1L_XKZdFxvsHKhOhBabnKu_HJTkcsFZTSM3Rol0bGFaJSoXVTS2s71vQTOy1RcrQDJTf7B6wDfRfZ2J5Ql06_DL_-P7rExy6okvmUc_EOoVh2bo/s1600/igel2.jpg" height="320" width="300" /></a></div>
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After some confused looks, we grabbed a dictionary and discovered that the English word <i>eagle</i> is pronounced exactly the same way as the German word <i>Igel</i> - meaning "hedgehog" and definitely <i>not </i>denoting a large bird of prey! Apparently wild hedgehogs are native to Germany - much in the same way that we'd find squirrels and chipmunks in our backyards, they have hedgehogs. Commence the laughter! "False friends" are words in one language that sound the same as words that exist in another language, but don't mean the same thing at all - unfortunately <i>eagle</i> and <i>Igel</i> are both animals and both pronounced exactly the same way, leading to our little mix-up! I'm pretty sure none of us will ever forget the difference between these words ever again!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The German Flag</span></td></tr>
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All in all, I had a really great time in Germany - got to spend some time with Meike's awesome and super welcoming family, ring in the New Year, do some sight-seeing, partying, and most importantly, relaxing! Can't wait for our return visit in February - but for now, it's back to the grind! </div>
Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-6051529634261103192014-01-09T15:45:00.001-05:002014-01-09T15:45:31.894-05:00Les Vacances de Noël - Christmas in Geneva<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lake Geneva and its trademark <i>Jet d'Eau</i> water fountain</span></td></tr>
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First of all, <i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bonne Ann<span style="line-height: 107%;">é</span>e</span></i>! Happy 2014! Here's to a New Year full of happiness, new adventures and great success!</div>
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After a refreshing two-week break, I'm slowly settling back into my old routine...less than 8 weeks left until our next break (not that I'm counting or anything!). I do have to say that I had the most unconventional Christmas ever, but I know that it will make next year's holidays at home with my family and friends that much more special for me!</div>
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I hopped a train bright and early on December 22 bound for Geneva. Unfortunately, due to my geographical location in France, getting to Switzerland took a bit of time. [Click <a href="https://mapsengine.google.com/map/edit?mid=zEnM-sPf-W20.kAA7fI7WiSvg">here</a> to see a map of where I went!] Train #1 took me 40 minutes west of Forbach to Metz, while Train #2 brought me from Metz all the way up north to Paris (essentially 2 hours in the opposite direction of Switzerland). In Paris, I had an hour to change train stations, which was kind of a tease as I had to pass through all my favorite old haunts to get to Train #3 which was finally bound for Geneva. Four hours after leaving Paris, I arrived in Switzerland and was extremely surprised to exit the train station into unseasonably warm temperatures - three days before Christmas and it was nearly 55 degrees out!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">First glimpses of Lake Geneva and snow-capped Mont Blanc in the background</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Bumbling around, I found our hotel and was a bit disappointed with it's lack of...umm...warm fuzzy Christmas cheer? Peeling paint, coffee-stained curtains, and a community toilet/shower in the hallway? Not really what I was envisioning! I had a few hours before Eric was due to arrive, so I hastily left our hovel and went down to poke around the shores of Lac L</span><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">é</span></span></span><span style="text-align: justify;">man <span style="font-family: inherit;">(aka Lac de Gen</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">è</span><span style="text-align: justify;">ve, also known as Lake Geneva).</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">On the Jet<span style="line-height: 107%;">ée des P</span><span style="line-height: 107%;">âquis, a popular beach in summer</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuyaMCSduksqislOTsAP-lYr7X7e20KPNxLw7hknC5ZoLUGB2LHN5XEOe48r5ui0kbsWHfqyJADJqB4oI4OH3-yOrSyn9Toz9Ve_yJHX80UKvGWnjFigBMZxN_SqQE6icVt1i7mpmXtQ/s1600/DSCN3014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuyaMCSduksqislOTsAP-lYr7X7e20KPNxLw7hknC5ZoLUGB2LHN5XEOe48r5ui0kbsWHfqyJADJqB4oI4OH3-yOrSyn9Toz9Ve_yJHX80UKvGWnjFigBMZxN_SqQE6icVt1i7mpmXtQ/s1600/DSCN3014.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Swan Lake?!</span></td></tr>
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One piece of info about Geneva that I failed to realize before booking a vacation here: Geneva is EXPENSIVE!! Yeah, people warned me of that when I said I was considering Switzerland as a holiday destination, stupid me failed to listen or do further research to find out what that actually meant. In my head, I was thinking <i>Paris is expensive, but you lived there for 6 months without any problems, so what's 4 days in Geneva?</i> Wrong!! For example, a delicious <i>kebab</i> sandwich with a side of fries (common Turkish street food found everywhere in Europe), which you can buy from between 4 and 7 Euro in most cities, cost 20 Swiss Francs in Geneva! With the current exchange rate, that's $22 for a sandwich. We're not talking high-class, five-star sandwiches made with organic ingredients - this is more like grease-up-to-your-elbows, you're-gonna-need-10-napkins-to-wipe-your-face messy, unsophisticated corner store food. And don't even get me started on McDonald's "Value Menu"...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Swiss Francs? Or the newest type of Monopoly Money?</span></td></tr>
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Regardless, even though we were spending Christmas thousands of miles away from our families, we <i>were </i> in Geneva afterall and were determined to make the best of our situation. Fortunately, the city has a lot of free museums which we were planning on visiting to give our wallets a break. Unfortunately, Switzerland takes their holiday breaks really seriously. When I arrived on Sunday, everything was closed (normal for Europe). Some things were going to be open on December 23 (shops and a few museums), but everything closed by mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve, and Christmas was a wash as well. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The 3-Legged Chair which stands in the plaza before the United Nations HQ, a symbol of the fragility of peace and the devastation caused by landmines</span></td></tr>
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Eric and I took advantage of the warm, sunny weather and headed over to check out the United Nations headquarters on the far side of town. We had heard that you could go on guided tours of the <i>Palais des Nations</i> and thought that'd be a neat experience. And it probably would have been, had it not been closed for Christmas break. So we strolled down the street to the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Museum...which was also conveniently closed! We have such good timing, it's unbelievable.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">American Ambassador White, representing Westfield at the UN!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The United Nations</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">International Red Cross & Red Crescent Museum</span></td></tr>
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I did manage to visit the Maison Tavel, however. It's the city's oldest private dwelling and now a museum about the urban development of Geneva, providing a glimpse into the lives of its residents throughout the ages. Interactive exhibits showed how the city expanded, was ravaged by invaders and fires, and ultimately became the city it is today. Old coins, medieval armor and weapons, and household objects from many centuries are on display, providing a comprehensive understanding of how the city developed. The only thing it failed to explain is why everything costs so much there...a comment for the suggestion box, perhaps? </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1GErceUp331D0Oo_1WNXD_7oMD711Rz46WlOga-1se5_B9znjIc-4SqJqyfx3yLEoYTdH87L8e1VIFRjcu4tvAM36Ku6eK9OrBNnYPabbG1B6UN_froFcHK8z2NHpd81e13v8U3z-Faw/s1600/Maison-Tavel-Museum-in-Geneva01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1GErceUp331D0Oo_1WNXD_7oMD711Rz46WlOga-1se5_B9znjIc-4SqJqyfx3yLEoYTdH87L8e1VIFRjcu4tvAM36Ku6eK9OrBNnYPabbG1B6UN_froFcHK8z2NHpd81e13v8U3z-Faw/s1600/Maison-Tavel-Museum-in-Geneva01.jpg" height="200" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Maison Tavel's impressive model of Geneva in 1860, crafted out of copper and zinc</span></td></tr>
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Eric and I did some more wandering in the oldest section of Geneva, with its narrow cobblestone streets, and decided to climb to the top of the Cathedral of St. Pierre in order to get a bird's-eye view of the city and its surroundings. Belonging to the Swiss Reformed Church, it's best-known as the adopted church of John Calvin, historic leader of the Protestant Reformers (the Calvinists).</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTeRf3KXhl6hCihzggqSjC55Zi2xMGwfCeO6-MFh6glsdXjx23anbRjZJopia4wBGaVFOT2CuGmdZ9RddfHKuSW0xsHSw-5IMwyfLHIoIQVuHlfZINxxiBzqtJthBMmW7gfGHAdEU3zI0/s1600/DSCN3030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTeRf3KXhl6hCihzggqSjC55Zi2xMGwfCeO6-MFh6glsdXjx23anbRjZJopia4wBGaVFOT2CuGmdZ9RddfHKuSW0xsHSw-5IMwyfLHIoIQVuHlfZINxxiBzqtJthBMmW7gfGHAdEU3zI0/s1600/DSCN3030.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Chapel of the Maccabees, a superb example of Flamboyant Gothic architecture inside Cathedral St-Pierre</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYAQNXWGc92sM1FdCokaNX4qCOn33NAPBtLKVe27NZSccLwkXpqa-8WNm9YloEP6jp5SpeEJtVIm0r30afpFRtSdBFhVSjdKpXghmtRGQLzUg-z7pYRw4tif50n0NkNkd0rjGWwOFeDA/s1600/DSCN3032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYAQNXWGc92sM1FdCokaNX4qCOn33NAPBtLKVe27NZSccLwkXpqa-8WNm9YloEP6jp5SpeEJtVIm0r30afpFRtSdBFhVSjdKpXghmtRGQLzUg-z7pYRw4tif50n0NkNkd0rjGWwOFeDA/s1600/DSCN3032.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The look-out tower atop the cathedral once served as a fire watch post</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUtulrKaL3icp0TaJpZhGvZVBNQOg0ey70onJCeU9Sm8t_8aIg_0dtbYf0EHLFsdklw-Iy0ssFtocwWNcktywFz63ajSpp_CYY6QIl3xbgJtqbXTjkNlXFhYxhCfnQBtTiGyDtpYB2-0/s1600/DSCN3038_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUtulrKaL3icp0TaJpZhGvZVBNQOg0ey70onJCeU9Sm8t_8aIg_0dtbYf0EHLFsdklw-Iy0ssFtocwWNcktywFz63ajSpp_CYY6QIl3xbgJtqbXTjkNlXFhYxhCfnQBtTiGyDtpYB2-0/s1600/DSCN3038_stitch.jpg" height="318" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">View from the top! Lake Geneva and the Old City</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqonmeSTpJ5oULWM4EyNQw0UsXOYmriAFlaeqmpIUiM1SCqDprhdaupfQ28o7Fpe0dH4xKVjGUbPziakkiGVnnODFTqjgRoO6zLZl8yPB5du5PQWQQnMKgmUtYL1fqsv08Wknf1NeDupM/s1600/DSCN3034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqonmeSTpJ5oULWM4EyNQw0UsXOYmriAFlaeqmpIUiM1SCqDprhdaupfQ28o7Fpe0dH4xKVjGUbPziakkiGVnnODFTqjgRoO6zLZl8yPB5du5PQWQQnMKgmUtYL1fqsv08Wknf1NeDupM/s1600/DSCN3034.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hello French Alps!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIny9_-LhAdXSSF22V_k12HlZAMTuQ6uvQGVJP8PMalqN9tB0uCuJYZ_xv3t4XA2gvOYiKnQseeOVtnC9jD_1CIx5cEWwHkKxOgoPyhj3OKlExeK4T7k1FbBo4bg2stVFq3UxophECN0/s1600/DSCN3043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIny9_-LhAdXSSF22V_k12HlZAMTuQ6uvQGVJP8PMalqN9tB0uCuJYZ_xv3t4XA2gvOYiKnQseeOVtnC9jD_1CIx5cEWwHkKxOgoPyhj3OKlExeK4T7k1FbBo4bg2stVFq3UxophECN0/s1600/DSCN3043.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the cathedral's intricate bell towers</span></td></tr>
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Geneva also has a large bas-relief monument called the Reformation Wall to commemorate the city's influence on the radical theological shifts in thinking which took place during the 16th century. In a nutshell, the Protestant Reformation was an attempt to reform the Catholic Church by people who thought it had become corrupt - the sale of indulgences (where people could pay money to be absolved of temporal punishment for their sins) and rampant simony (the buying and selling of Church offices) didn't sit well with many people. Situated in Bastions Park on the grounds of the University of Geneva (conveniently founded by the Reformer John Calvin), Reformation Wall tells the story of the Protestant Reformation, showcasing the history, individuals, and important literature so central to this movement.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhtl6nJwZM_pBMZiSyfh0WanLOa3qqCkiGIcymyO6FHjR7iA-1XVTXN2cn5PRfX-cQbFkPDTyjrog5MxMoEH6siklpLQ15BNqQCD6a3x-AeSdTpGJiRXvWjrUZJRU9gGSI3o3dSOg6be8/s1600/DSCN3052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhtl6nJwZM_pBMZiSyfh0WanLOa3qqCkiGIcymyO6FHjR7iA-1XVTXN2cn5PRfX-cQbFkPDTyjrog5MxMoEH6siklpLQ15BNqQCD6a3x-AeSdTpGJiRXvWjrUZJRU9gGSI3o3dSOg6be8/s1600/DSCN3052.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Statues of the Reformers: William Farel, John Calvin, Theodore Beza and John Knox</span></td></tr>
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The park also has quite a large area with giant chess and checker boards, quite the hub for well-dressed older men who assemble to test their game strategies while sipping coffee and puffing away on cigars. But hey, it was free entertainment! So Eric and I enjoyed the sunshine and played what can only be described as the world's longest game of checkers with our tire-sized game pieces.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMotCeTY34h9k9onhZXZ4NWVyD629hNddsPFaQhE5QiuyliPG5TuWUw9SMqeUp2qnDhgjZLCJWkOxeSVL4U5LMCyOMSHSkkXNyAwm3k32OaMIPmznXAwTFF_SNncMw-XAwMw3M7Cxpz3M/s1600/DSCN3051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMotCeTY34h9k9onhZXZ4NWVyD629hNddsPFaQhE5QiuyliPG5TuWUw9SMqeUp2qnDhgjZLCJWkOxeSVL4U5LMCyOMSHSkkXNyAwm3k32OaMIPmznXAwTFF_SNncMw-XAwMw3M7Cxpz3M/s1600/DSCN3051.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Game time in the park! Green Bench photo...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjw_nn87ZLiG61vDnWHiD8ze2UcbYWO8AO6tnn2lfnXRXNaMKRw57DP-vyWPlOMZFlxguI4J7x0VM7ajPQRqdYDnKCuTOJC-4qG0NTGPZIumu23dGVRxHUUXRXXkThiqy2Ew7UEx6uME/s1600/IMG_20131025_111014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjw_nn87ZLiG61vDnWHiD8ze2UcbYWO8AO6tnn2lfnXRXNaMKRw57DP-vyWPlOMZFlxguI4J7x0VM7ajPQRqdYDnKCuTOJC-4qG0NTGPZIumu23dGVRxHUUXRXXkThiqy2Ew7UEx6uME/s1600/IMG_20131025_111014.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...meet earlier Blue Bench photo! (from Spain)</span></td></tr>
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Speaking of things that are long - and benches - our next stop ironically was the World's Longest Bench! Measuring 126 meters (413 feet) long, the bench on Promenade de la Treille offers those who sit upon it a beautiful view down over the lower city, with the picturesque snow-topped Alps in the background.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrz3GeL5zYIpg1p72bcfNC-mK85Q2Fr49Dr0WxnnL1brUxpZelcWwCXofpVX97xuReJkukcjFtwLe_eIwOncTvQmq_KR0Mpe5WGboAXNVW-PD4RnBoBCVL64i9HZlwO5vWqKdX6Wej3U/s1600/DSCN3049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrz3GeL5zYIpg1p72bcfNC-mK85Q2Fr49Dr0WxnnL1brUxpZelcWwCXofpVX97xuReJkukcjFtwLe_eIwOncTvQmq_KR0Mpe5WGboAXNVW-PD4RnBoBCVL64i9HZlwO5vWqKdX6Wej3U/s1600/DSCN3049.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Enough room for me and all of my friends!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxLVJdTcMvari5bP9r5DLKAglFgc6KhRcWk9vSM9gDPsVOVcuqi_H7XHDwnR-Qz4e1gVxuPmD-37GCJvaE64Unw3t4AI51wUr59Cjvhge5PcNrxexpbz6U_lzLExa9PQB6Ci_Ha4IZcvA/s1600/DSCN3063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxLVJdTcMvari5bP9r5DLKAglFgc6KhRcWk9vSM9gDPsVOVcuqi_H7XHDwnR-Qz4e1gVxuPmD-37GCJvaE64Unw3t4AI51wUr59Cjvhge5PcNrxexpbz6U_lzLExa9PQB6Ci_Ha4IZcvA/s1600/DSCN3063.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Alps</span></td></tr>
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While in the neighborhood, the two of us headed over to see the Natural History Museum (also free!), and if you really enjoy learning about the geological formation of Europe, you're in for a treat! There was even a hands-on exhibit about the creation of the Grand Canyon that Eric particularly enjoyed...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECdGBGjC3OsuCLC4aDGl9W2hyP9UN7GLh4Abv_CKpDzJWHwsqSk3ZOkgqxJjpOH7N5iolrxEeen4rDAfwZu3LTdFm5aJ7wVouuSgdwmDqi7bxPiMbKRELQPf33O6FSKKMYhLdemSgWFA/s1600/2013-12-24+14.56.50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECdGBGjC3OsuCLC4aDGl9W2hyP9UN7GLh4Abv_CKpDzJWHwsqSk3ZOkgqxJjpOH7N5iolrxEeen4rDAfwZu3LTdFm5aJ7wVouuSgdwmDqi7bxPiMbKRELQPf33O6FSKKMYhLdemSgWFA/s1600/2013-12-24+14.56.50.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"The Grand Canyon: The World's Oldest and Largest History Book"</span></td></tr>
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Enjoying the lovely weather, we sauntered along the lakeside to take in all the gorgeous views...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioogrl8-bhYMMYvJP4Cg1d0Y9cVIJU6hUtuzT8CeYWgJmqKjmEQ3g3ynTpQCqPnynlvJ5wxdbBJen1pwZwTMkbE8HyuvupvTs3iL7vHHOGmdQhCugog7OuWn4d6Ej8B7-NwFiikKdrzrU/s1600/2013-12-23+11.21.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioogrl8-bhYMMYvJP4Cg1d0Y9cVIJU6hUtuzT8CeYWgJmqKjmEQ3g3ynTpQCqPnynlvJ5wxdbBJen1pwZwTMkbE8HyuvupvTs3iL7vHHOGmdQhCugog7OuWn4d6Ej8B7-NwFiikKdrzrU/s1600/2013-12-23+11.21.25.jpg" height="160" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lake Geneva's trademark <i>Jet d'Eau</i> water fountain spouts an amazing 132 gallons of water per second 460 feet into the sky, leaving over 1800 gallons of water in its path at any given time</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2NY_OfuAfdvmXOWgxGR169O_GitfPKOI0nuAkuUMEI1QBjF7nKa1J-_PZbgrJUsAPS5UOl7i6164fyELnem8_gUbUGKV44aljdBfKld1ARPYZgqWfK3TbwJQXq0Gx4LEn8X2LhOpL1zA/s1600/DSCN3054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2NY_OfuAfdvmXOWgxGR169O_GitfPKOI0nuAkuUMEI1QBjF7nKa1J-_PZbgrJUsAPS5UOl7i6164fyELnem8_gUbUGKV44aljdBfKld1ARPYZgqWfK3TbwJQXq0Gx4LEn8X2LhOpL1zA/s1600/DSCN3054.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hey there little buddy</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk29hMj6BUmHJGrNepQyj7U2RhCZGlhwPWn8xQMrr9jmjUJ4z8Vv8P9oQ2xURG3k0sbwUtOyU5V4sxgypwX0kf2YX-sFSoZqFETS3OEryxj54YvzCmeSi04Ai8I_W3zb7EoGnwUy9X1Tw/s1600/DSCN3055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk29hMj6BUmHJGrNepQyj7U2RhCZGlhwPWn8xQMrr9jmjUJ4z8Vv8P9oQ2xURG3k0sbwUtOyU5V4sxgypwX0kf2YX-sFSoZqFETS3OEryxj54YvzCmeSi04Ai8I_W3zb7EoGnwUy9X1Tw/s1600/DSCN3055.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seagulls catching some rays by the lake</span></td></tr>
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In an effort to save money, we opted to stock up on some food from the grocery store and eat back at our hotel instead of unloading lots of cash at restaurants. The whole situation was quite comical, as mealtime turned into a picnic on our bed (which was barely big enough for one person, nevermind two!). We did buy a lot of delicious Swiss cheese and enjoyed the free samples of Swiss chocolate at the supermarket while we shopped - a win-win situation! Wash it all down with some local wine and you almost forget you're eating dinner on your bed! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqUJGSK0M1Oj_YIhqc206lRtrYVRQMFWrc3aHKDDVGV5NJktVgp8XuWdWOl0dc2h4tHCSBQQtO60eg9ekQlstmXcEur-nAG98z5gtFxm7ldmUx-Qcr2aquMZrGXVV7Dzm94zxm6sQVsoI/s1600/DSCN3060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqUJGSK0M1Oj_YIhqc206lRtrYVRQMFWrc3aHKDDVGV5NJktVgp8XuWdWOl0dc2h4tHCSBQQtO60eg9ekQlstmXcEur-nAG98z5gtFxm7ldmUx-Qcr2aquMZrGXVV7Dzm94zxm6sQVsoI/s1600/DSCN3060.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eric showing off one of our gourmet dinners: cheese, turkey and a crispy baguette, some fruit & wine for dessert!</span></td></tr>
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And then, it was Christmas Eve! After spending a good part of the day (window)shopping, we decided our hotel room needed a little bit of Christmas cheer. We obviously weren't about to buy a Christmas tree, so we did the next best thing: snapped a branch off of a big decorated tree in the center of town and brought it back to our room. Not having any decorations on hand, we improvised: dental floss bows! Prop that bad boy up behind the heater and you've got yourself one heck of an impressive tree, let me tell you...</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8oLnfwOhMvwlXa1YfglentpMU75uQjAOKhRdoxrrXQDf10X-dhdeDUPr2iN6zc_V8nLdvu_XAlV6v8tuX3TvKfXGIDfjFvch3mLPbFvAPkvQjTSHccQK47tPurN758n_BBh65wAPrIY/s1600/2013-12-24+16.03.03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8oLnfwOhMvwlXa1YfglentpMU75uQjAOKhRdoxrrXQDf10X-dhdeDUPr2iN6zc_V8nLdvu_XAlV6v8tuX3TvKfXGIDfjFvch3mLPbFvAPkvQjTSHccQK47tPurN758n_BBh65wAPrIY/s1600/2013-12-24+16.03.03.jpg" height="400" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The tree that was to become our victim...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEgUK8Egbr9N2jNBZMaXEi3jowY32abqy1KozYUfhH6rgtvhNkga8j_vyzF4f1pCS-S2yXj0mou1Y85fcA_nbq_s3y0f9UcT9BzZNOx3qt4AJrBNyqALdvAjxN6VIDzqK261XzrahYdA/s1600/DSCN3073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEgUK8Egbr9N2jNBZMaXEi3jowY32abqy1KozYUfhH6rgtvhNkga8j_vyzF4f1pCS-S2yXj0mou1Y85fcA_nbq_s3y0f9UcT9BzZNOx3qt4AJrBNyqALdvAjxN6VIDzqK261XzrahYdA/s1600/DSCN3073.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tada! Our beautifully decorated Xmas tree, complete with my festive stocking from the US!</span></td></tr>
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It was better than no decorations, but pretty pitiful nonetheless! My parents had thought to mail me my Christmas stocking from home full of little presents, and I had brought it along so I'd have something to open on Christmas morning, so I hung it on the radiator and pretended it was hanging by the fireplace. Merry Christmas, I guess?</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB28tmfhfLRP8ibaeZm0PHIiXmqzSkDFlewmkdM8r3MfHDbj0MfFI9pX6LAhP-eU7lAEOU3MmZlRms-PCGcTT5SXWp-CVmtgQpjLkTZe-P0Y3oyBEIGTpJrtYI5tgu8ejyydd_1XV7up4/s1600/DSCN3070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB28tmfhfLRP8ibaeZm0PHIiXmqzSkDFlewmkdM8r3MfHDbj0MfFI9pX6LAhP-eU7lAEOU3MmZlRms-PCGcTT5SXWp-CVmtgQpjLkTZe-P0Y3oyBEIGTpJrtYI5tgu8ejyydd_1XV7up4/s1600/DSCN3070.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Old City, all decked out for Christmas</span></td></tr>
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Then it was time to get all dolled up for our Christmas Eve dinner reservations! (Yes, we splurged on an actual dinner at a restaurant!) We had decided to go for a traditional Swiss restaurant and booked a table at a place called <i>Au Petit Chalet</i>. They had so many delicious cheesy dishes to pick from, it was hard to decide, but we settled on tomato & cheese fondue with bread and mini roasted potatoes to dip in it. So delicious and definitely worth the splurge - 27 Francs for the fondue vs. 20 Francs for a sandwich! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijINgHXyjd6Yhgs899_5Wo2Gdd7bUspHJVx-FiBEglg94ChsnUCXsadCtzhXHoqoEvPdSs51mCIBSmpJCJSP8ZOAqNPWYbNFTtlZCshucV0HU7SsuWlG9CKZBzA3bfEvCaxgjY1jCTL4I/s1600/2013-12-24+20.23.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijINgHXyjd6Yhgs899_5Wo2Gdd7bUspHJVx-FiBEglg94ChsnUCXsadCtzhXHoqoEvPdSs51mCIBSmpJCJSP8ZOAqNPWYbNFTtlZCshucV0HU7SsuWlG9CKZBzA3bfEvCaxgjY1jCTL4I/s1600/2013-12-24+20.23.30.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Say CHEESE!</span> </td></tr>
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And the next thing we knew, it was Christmas day! After chowing down the hotel breakfast (which was surprisingly really good and actually the sole part of our stay at the hotel to look forward to every day), Eric and I opened up some presents and then headed out for our holiday excursion: a 3 hour cruise on Lake Geneva - in frigid temperatures and pouring rain, wahoo! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaGD_wEsN1BH6tTOOjD-JuKH6tMU9-Bx95F0htZeqltHBvuvAIzK39K7xeVEfQDPTuFN-SX3jCQHSdAR4gq21b5WtxpgKocVedqbgeUPnlF9V15V-n3za8auMgQuZHv4yY0XJGCQId8c/s1600/2013-12-25+15.02.35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaGD_wEsN1BH6tTOOjD-JuKH6tMU9-Bx95F0htZeqltHBvuvAIzK39K7xeVEfQDPTuFN-SX3jCQHSdAR4gq21b5WtxpgKocVedqbgeUPnlF9V15V-n3za8auMgQuZHv4yY0XJGCQId8c/s1600/2013-12-25+15.02.35.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our cruise ship</span></td></tr>
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Thankfully the ship stayed sort of close to shore so we had something to look at, because the fog was thick as pea soup and masked what I can only imagine would have been some amazing views of the surrounding snowy mountains. We had bought second-class tickets and ended up having the entire section of the boat to ourselves - everyone else had splurged on the first-class section which included a three-course meal...at least we had our choice of seats! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzdrlRv6pJ7_xuqUumYTf6Ui53LCVHqKLuLrAo1W1cMKtn5x84AM1yKUbMdn9OIUuwO28xxXUk0KKInHfXnh8PVkmj6pPKkJTibAL-91BDyq7_CRWJLyecYIiTec9OYMhKnSFDsHnFSmE/s1600/DSCN3078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzdrlRv6pJ7_xuqUumYTf6Ui53LCVHqKLuLrAo1W1cMKtn5x84AM1yKUbMdn9OIUuwO28xxXUk0KKInHfXnh8PVkmj6pPKkJTibAL-91BDyq7_CRWJLyecYIiTec9OYMhKnSFDsHnFSmE/s1600/DSCN3078.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The World's Most unconventional Christmas EVER!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwwgpkiWcn0yidw4JOpQ0rcpvolZcN1dXgc64SIIytUcTX4Cg3sPjUBHl_MFtyz5POI4fobhBtjoU4_nHqjIDlbdQry0jddCjyMss-ZcxMV77mlzyMNZ-upm0Vz_uUr48ufyaYM74jClw/s1600/DSCN3081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwwgpkiWcn0yidw4JOpQ0rcpvolZcN1dXgc64SIIytUcTX4Cg3sPjUBHl_MFtyz5POI4fobhBtjoU4_nHqjIDlbdQry0jddCjyMss-ZcxMV77mlzyMNZ-upm0Vz_uUr48ufyaYM74jClw/s1600/DSCN3081.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Swiss Flag</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9gDxVcOrtXuDnTCLQ0PHFHkReELlmzl84-C4NzcFcG1wpR0ZL1fdzaS29n01FrXjjGr3P9APcqIhHiNnY-ZzVdoKhAxZ3_ABppS6Eh9exV1J0PTJo8RpK8zAJ3-A-WITNIaRbLXg4qM/s1600/DSCN3085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9gDxVcOrtXuDnTCLQ0PHFHkReELlmzl84-C4NzcFcG1wpR0ZL1fdzaS29n01FrXjjGr3P9APcqIhHiNnY-ZzVdoKhAxZ3_ABppS6Eh9exV1J0PTJo8RpK8zAJ3-A-WITNIaRbLXg4qM/s1600/DSCN3085.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rain! And the mansions on the Swiss side of the lake - at least the water was a beautiful shade of aqua!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg03hjwS1KLjJQCesJMfvsgZmrPTZC6dKPoUCFdcduGbbFRHyhwk_uioERoRW1G3ZiqYpZexHbOTWZNrEAgraFitmdDjdqfz3mq1LdyLRdHTDir1qKfD0lQ81Wi3ZKh2g8cQMVkxA93lJ4/s1600/DSCN3084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg03hjwS1KLjJQCesJMfvsgZmrPTZC6dKPoUCFdcduGbbFRHyhwk_uioERoRW1G3ZiqYpZexHbOTWZNrEAgraFitmdDjdqfz3mq1LdyLRdHTDir1qKfD0lQ81Wi3ZKh2g8cQMVkxA93lJ4/s1600/DSCN3084.JPG" height="290" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hanging out with all our friends in second-class</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsH6lkgTQ4w0hQSeIHlhplyHFVs-HZ_Gy2UBoy1wzEMDUbxHR_sxGVQct1lnKWNo84Kusla94WBxJZkS99WZ-CMjUOx0dgI6FOxXHwdoR9ONbzcSPh9UjkHCvyszyV1fLXyY_vUf3oUQ/s1600/Lake+Geneva+Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsH6lkgTQ4w0hQSeIHlhplyHFVs-HZ_Gy2UBoy1wzEMDUbxHR_sxGVQct1lnKWNo84Kusla94WBxJZkS99WZ-CMjUOx0dgI6FOxXHwdoR9ONbzcSPh9UjkHCvyszyV1fLXyY_vUf3oUQ/s1600/Lake+Geneva+Map.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lake Geneva straddles the border between France and Switzerland</span></td></tr>
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We returned from our scenic cruise and headed back to the hotel once again for another picnic on our bed - nothing but the best for Christmas day!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNlAINX4piU0stQO9lOaPR3EGlcJ18REnSX3ltJTXbdW6agl1Rn9A7kcGysGkVk54CQ4icnIUXHFPNsK9xClRJD5ePogBhhyG-301DB4FZgOM0D0XyNngM8mNFJtZQ8CDhOZzxASqjsE/s1600/2013-12-25+15.19.36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNlAINX4piU0stQO9lOaPR3EGlcJ18REnSX3ltJTXbdW6agl1Rn9A7kcGysGkVk54CQ4icnIUXHFPNsK9xClRJD5ePogBhhyG-301DB4FZgOM0D0XyNngM8mNFJtZQ8CDhOZzxASqjsE/s1600/2013-12-25+15.19.36.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">We used only our fanciest china and most expensive silverware</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0BkyIyWP35Zz3F7smNN6wenFRpm9YUPGm-Ou6trUWoGqAITTgJTcD5nYgbe1N-4k4Pe4cT79PTNkpp4eFU8yLTS1bRZUfqpYw01_NmqEJ_Hh5nTIVvUC6qdcwdiQZHBlQBgTIpUj4lk/s1600/DSCN3089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0BkyIyWP35Zz3F7smNN6wenFRpm9YUPGm-Ou6trUWoGqAITTgJTcD5nYgbe1N-4k4Pe4cT79PTNkpp4eFU8yLTS1bRZUfqpYw01_NmqEJ_Hh5nTIVvUC6qdcwdiQZHBlQBgTIpUj4lk/s1600/DSCN3089.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like flan!</span></td></tr>
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We filled the rest of our day playing Candy Crush on our cell phones, watching French trivia shows on our snowy TV, Skyping with our families at home who were actually have fun, and searching for somewhere to go for dinner. Just like in the movie "A Christmas Story," no restaurants were open except for Chinese ones. I had done some searching online for cheap eats in Geneva, and we settled on a Chinese place called Boky, whose sole questionable recommendation said "Some praise its extensive Chinese menu, some say it's gross, but one thing's indisputable: it's hard to find a cheaper dinner in the city center than here." While the food was relatively cheap and actually really tasty, the restaurant sits just outside the city's red light district, and we were subsequently seated next to an escort and her client who were having less-than-savory conversations in broken English all during our meal...definitely a Christmas dinner to remember!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5wci-bvJLUYR6SDrmz0raDqctUc1NWLpPHX1JwLG4pCWPZfgTIojPKWjOzOZCP8UmkZ_YCQypK1TnwDiDqPiWfmH91JsG8UuCQfMbsCKxekMFgEELxsfvqCicgpTG7Q0ms3z7ECBz0c/s1600/2013-12-25+19.37.53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5wci-bvJLUYR6SDrmz0raDqctUc1NWLpPHX1JwLG4pCWPZfgTIojPKWjOzOZCP8UmkZ_YCQypK1TnwDiDqPiWfmH91JsG8UuCQfMbsCKxekMFgEELxsfvqCicgpTG7Q0ms3z7ECBz0c/s1600/2013-12-25+19.37.53.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Christmas Day orange chicken!</span></td></tr>
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While our Christmas 2013 experience was a bit unorthodox, we couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous nature of our adventures and both decided that next year's celebrations with our families will be that much more special! Geneva is definitely a neat locale to visit, but unless you come with deep pockets, I'd say a day trip to the city is sufficient. With the Christmas segment of my break behind me, Eric and I said goodbye on the 26th and I hopped on yet another train to head to <span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Öhringen,</span> Germany where I'd spend the rest of my vacation with my roommate Meike and her family at home...</span></div>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-65006490330084104262013-12-21T13:35:00.000-05:002013-12-21T13:35:25.457-05:00What A Week<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Saying that I'm happy
it's finally Christmas vacation couldn't be more of an understatement.
After a very trying week, I'm finally done teaching and eager to begin
travelling once again for my two-week break!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
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<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Angsty high school
students, problems with the bank and a general lack of empathy from anyone I
went to looking for help made this week one to remember, but unfortunately not
for good reasons!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxoGzDE2n3mg-kXjF86DxiE47Q0WVhMekMc_5kNVLVT8IcHaA98YViKfh6WiknW0gWx99F7Oj2wl0OoIUIC5_H1IJqwZVsnftyt91dXzixxuZOx7zo5335mYkbOfLYc821s1hf7vblnE/s1600/grumpy-cat-christmas-card-meme1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxoGzDE2n3mg-kXjF86DxiE47Q0WVhMekMc_5kNVLVT8IcHaA98YViKfh6WiknW0gWx99F7Oj2wl0OoIUIC5_H1IJqwZVsnftyt91dXzixxuZOx7zo5335mYkbOfLYc821s1hf7vblnE/s1600/grumpy-cat-christmas-card-meme1.jpg" height="292" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">...to be an English Teaching Assistant in Forbach!!</span></td></tr>
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<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I had the difficult task
of trying to keep classes of students who were all too eager for school
vacation to start under control - if you all could see what goes on in French
classrooms, you'd be amazed.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> I thought that my bad experiences at the Université de
Paris III two years ago were just a fluke, thinking I had been put in classes
with rowdy kids who misbehaved all through the lesson and couldn't care less
what the teacher was saying. Now, I can confidently say that behavior
like this (general animosity, talking over others, throwing things during
class) is omnipresent in all French classrooms, regardless of the kids' age or
grade. Every day here is an adventure: the second I turn my back to write
something on the board, I brace myself for the worst. I've been hit in
the head with a flying pencil case, told I was ugly when I asked someone 3
times to spit out his gum, and am generally just disrespected by a vast
majority of my students...and it's driving me crazy!!! When I look back
on all of these incidents, I can generally laugh it off, but simply cannot
imagine what American teachers would do if they were transplanted into a
classroom of animals here in France!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7mvoEXHpRkl1po_Vaqj_A3Yty1yr3eAddL9QT0HgmuqcwditysB2XLslnTB2N23OKFosndEj8TDbOCokQng2xmIYKg9tN102HkkhXYqsxUZqNQVqG66pncAvyiRVAyWMgZJu8BuTZdY/s1600/meme-teaching-assistants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7mvoEXHpRkl1po_Vaqj_A3Yty1yr3eAddL9QT0HgmuqcwditysB2XLslnTB2N23OKFosndEj8TDbOCokQng2xmIYKg9tN102HkkhXYqsxUZqNQVqG66pncAvyiRVAyWMgZJu8BuTZdY/s1600/meme-teaching-assistants.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">No, I didn't make this...someone else in the world just happens to share my same sentiments!</span></td></tr>
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<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Thankfully, I'm not the only teaching assistant I know who's
facing these same problems - in fact,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>every</i> teaching
assistant I talk to is having the same issues. Daily frustration in the
classroom compounded with weekly bureaucratic hassles are really becoming a
pain. For instance,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>La S</i></span><i><span style="line-height: 115%;">é</span></i><i><span style="line-height: 115%;">cu</span></i><span style="line-height: 115%;">, the French Social Security office,
has been sending me nasty letters requesting a copy of my paystub from
October...since the end of October...and as of this past Thursday (over halfway
through the month of December), I had <i>still</i> yet to receive it. Every time I
would go to ask about it, I'd just get brushed off and told that things here
just take a little extra time - if we're talking about a mid-afternoon wine
break taking extra time, I'm all for it, but when important things just seem to
get ignored time and time again, I really start to get annoyed.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">[Side note: my paystub finally appeared on Friday! One more thing
to cross off my bureaucratic to-do list!]</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">To top it all off, I happened to notice a mysterious 120€ charge
on my debit card early Thursday morning...hello hackers! So I had the pleasure
of going to the bank to try to straighten out the matter and getting stuck with
an uptight banker who told me that in all his years of banking, he'd never
heard of such a thing...was I sure I hadn't forgotten I'd gone out to lunch
that day and spent a lot of money without realizing it?? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYcBkgXYKNGNHeveMH3rK22W049HLPcb7-2kkSlhRQzIYDOI-6KqfEM3lbhI1_N1EMX9wh5WHC6x55vZvNm3quK_8y4UjwH8zY0vX4LUU22SOy0N4p4HmjMF2BK6XsEAW-dHwrZiGNXs/s1600/LOGO-BNP-PARIBAS-ARCHI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYcBkgXYKNGNHeveMH3rK22W049HLPcb7-2kkSlhRQzIYDOI-6KqfEM3lbhI1_N1EMX9wh5WHC6x55vZvNm3quK_8y4UjwH8zY0vX4LUU22SOy0N4p4HmjMF2BK6XsEAW-dHwrZiGNXs/s1600/LOGO-BNP-PARIBAS-ARCHI.jpg" height="302" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"BNP Paribas: The bank for a changing world"...one which has apparently never heard of hacking!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Back at home, I know these problems can usually be corrected
within minutes, as I had a similar problem a few years ago that was taken care
of over the phone in under 5 minutes. Not in France! After being laughed at by
the banker, I got to trudge through the pouring rain to the police station
where I sat in the waiting room for 45 minutes (coffee break apparently takes
precedence over customer service! "Things take time here," remember?)
before I got to explain my whole story once again to a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>policier</i> while he typed up
a report for me. I was the second person before noon that day with the same
hacked bank card problem, yet the man at the bank had never, ever heard of such
an occurrence...Back to the bank I went with my 12-page report, only to be told
that they'd have to launch an investigation to try to figure out who took my
money, and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>if</i> they
could figure out who it was,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>maybe</i> I'd
get my money back, but it'd take at least two to four months! All this would be
stressful enough back home, never mind trying to sort all this out here in a
second language…</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">To top it all off, I had to cancel my French debit card and go
without it for a few days until I get my new one in the mail sometime early
next week. Conveniently, I leave for Christmas break in Geneva & Germany on
Sunday, so I won't get my card back/have access to my account (where my month's
salary was just deposited yesterday) until January 6th when I return. What a
nightmare!!</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">[Second side note: Yesterday morning, the mystery charge was
strangely deleted from my account, and my balance was restored to normal...so
much for that taking 4 months, but at least I got my money back!]</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvrAaAL6nPKhxJab-zQW08CrccC9JJ3aY6SQmP7pYeCfUPAsMILAwmuWZ33BmsidANnL5KuyR6UmRLs2oskNYdbVSIVWsxQ87eUgZ95ITXDc6pi7vX4x53zCoekgdCc6ztSI5Wai9qQsI/s1600/Swiss_Flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvrAaAL6nPKhxJab-zQW08CrccC9JJ3aY6SQmP7pYeCfUPAsMILAwmuWZ33BmsidANnL5KuyR6UmRLs2oskNYdbVSIVWsxQ87eUgZ95ITXDc6pi7vX4x53zCoekgdCc6ztSI5Wai9qQsI/s1600/Swiss_Flag.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Swiss Flag</span></td></tr>
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<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;">But, on a happy note, it<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>is</i> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;">officially</span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;"> Christmas vacation now! I leave early Sunday morning on a
train bound for Geneva (the land of fondue and world-famous Swiss chocolates!), where I'll meet up with Eric for a Christmas adventure
on the scenic banks of Lake Geneva. The day after Christmas, I'm heading up to
Germany to spend the rest of my break at my roommate Meike's house with her and
her family (with the prospect of a ski trip to the Black Forest included!).
I'm very much looking forward to getting away from Forbach for a couple
weeks and doing some more exploring, and by the time I get back, I'll be
halfway through my stint as a foreign language assistant -<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>hallelujah</i>! Although the second
half of my time here will be more exciting, as I'll have a good number of
visitors coming and a few fun adventures up my sleeve. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, as we say in France,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Joyeux
Noël et Bonne Année</i>! Here's hoping that 2014 is a fresh start to my last 4
months in Forbach! </span></span></div>
Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-91991295570005128382013-12-12T15:56:00.000-05:002013-12-12T15:56:48.856-05:00Strasbourg & Les Marchés de Noël<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0blM7FL-23ekq1upC0ecqL3sf7rH8Cl_jNjMN4W3RrwgqoLctPNtGP2_7ujMuOZdl87F7kazxBJxG78COCOCRiRtvHzX8ONQdakmmUvQG9c6bh1sjyKo_H539jA6agELeZfW2eJts5s/s1600/2013-12-04+11.55.26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0blM7FL-23ekq1upC0ecqL3sf7rH8Cl_jNjMN4W3RrwgqoLctPNtGP2_7ujMuOZdl87F7kazxBJxG78COCOCRiRtvHzX8ONQdakmmUvQG9c6bh1sjyKo_H539jA6agELeZfW2eJts5s/s400/2013-12-04+11.55.26.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas cookies at the Strasbourg market</td></tr>
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Always eager to immerse ourselves in Christmas cheer, Meike and I took a mid-week trip to the city of Strasbourg, the self-proclaimed "Capital of Christmas." Home to France's oldest <i>marché de Noël</i>, the</div>
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<i>Christkindelsmärik</i> (Market of the Child Jesus), Strasbourg's Christmas markets are a festive holiday tradition begun all the way back in 1570 (2013 marks its 443th year!). The city is situated about 2 hours south of Forbach and we had been banking on spending a weekend there to enjoy the festivities...apparently everyone else in the area had the same idea! All the hotels in the area were booked for every weekend of December - unless we felt like coughing up half of our monthly salary to stay in a ritzy place - so instead we opted to arrive in the city on a Tuesday night so we could spend all day Wednesday (our day off) wandering the town.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQv35kH_ePFf6z-vsB8zoKhWFPeTvUOeojdL4TS5PpqQP3rb9IJBzJP5NWUnfWe0sopPGDv3EyG9f-GDPJkXuopeM4ieslfNzTo_YnnG9sOjLuDUFQHYBMlqyMbDij8SNKVoYiYUzKl0/s1600/Strasbourg+map.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQv35kH_ePFf6z-vsB8zoKhWFPeTvUOeojdL4TS5PpqQP3rb9IJBzJP5NWUnfWe0sopPGDv3EyG9f-GDPJkXuopeM4ieslfNzTo_YnnG9sOjLuDUFQHYBMlqyMbDij8SNKVoYiYUzKl0/s320/Strasbourg+map.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Strasbourg is the capital of the Alsace region of Eastern France, as well as the country's 9th largest city</span></td></tr>
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We didn't arrive until nearly 9pm, a full hour after the markets close for the day, but we wanted to take advantage of the bright moonlit night to explore the city and admire all of the Christmas lights and decorations - we sure weren't disappointed! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc_nmQ4vH4sBVGXPmvGuib7J5umn7BFjzw3ZyQ_dtRKpSUVJwrm8zrsHd-xatwrV3Vq-e5-qXWK4Fl1vx8mKi0Dg9SyZKjy_8V7OX7PKSWrIbBzlVK2a7uiD4gO40tD4XrjfJGGNu9CAI/s1600/DSCN2966.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc_nmQ4vH4sBVGXPmvGuib7J5umn7BFjzw3ZyQ_dtRKpSUVJwrm8zrsHd-xatwrV3Vq-e5-qXWK4Fl1vx8mKi0Dg9SyZKjy_8V7OX7PKSWrIbBzlVK2a7uiD4gO40tD4XrjfJGGNu9CAI/s400/DSCN2966.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Strasbourg's giant <i>sapin de No<span style="text-align: justify;">ë</span>l</i> at Place Kl<span style="text-align: justify;">é</span>ber</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjKaB58Km_EJFbO3aAgGCajSmPLdKsgHC99j9-vNDqwweEtM95xg21smo6_1sOnkKU8lndEaw8GKkfmQ-sFotq95zr7VfF6tiZGmuEdi9v2Y2F-ZBtWipCYLQjFK9qa9nF5h-n1Fy4m8/s1600/IMG_20131204_225422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjKaB58Km_EJFbO3aAgGCajSmPLdKsgHC99j9-vNDqwweEtM95xg21smo6_1sOnkKU8lndEaw8GKkfmQ-sFotq95zr7VfF6tiZGmuEdi9v2Y2F-ZBtWipCYLQjFK9qa9nF5h-n1Fy4m8/s400/IMG_20131204_225422.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">An illuminated model of the city sits below the tree</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ta9Pc7C9ZMPzqLHrQKikeU3I4xXk__TsZEz-cN-CBO-VG51uQ_8Ee8Sbb8jYgD9_acwdAFLbJZJJ7zztvdrVZdEwBluWMq6G4TMtRZ3fohyFdjwJFfx-r_7OkCAhnNHxw_DDZ7BvoqU/s1600/DSCN2964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ta9Pc7C9ZMPzqLHrQKikeU3I4xXk__TsZEz-cN-CBO-VG51uQ_8Ee8Sbb8jYgD9_acwdAFLbJZJJ7zztvdrVZdEwBluWMq6G4TMtRZ3fohyFdjwJFfx-r_7OkCAhnNHxw_DDZ7BvoqU/s400/DSCN2964.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A modern take on the traditional manger scene: chainsaw-carved statues</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJdXkNOlsK_eGZ9Ik0Fc0hlKB-B37KVnZLgLPADktuCS1kNSABv1Nx9zX7H9QP6ldN_EpIrufIzVxHaj5jw98EDeHEx961DkN5jNF456WCeuxw5koSFmayFf8TehM52HwDv6AozOi6Mf4/s1600/DSCN2970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJdXkNOlsK_eGZ9Ik0Fc0hlKB-B37KVnZLgLPADktuCS1kNSABv1Nx9zX7H9QP6ldN_EpIrufIzVxHaj5jw98EDeHEx961DkN5jNF456WCeuxw5koSFmayFf8TehM52HwDv6AozOi6Mf4/s400/DSCN2970.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The awe-inspiring Gothic <i>cath</i></span><i><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;">é</span><span style="font-size: small;">drale de Strasbourg</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswPuRsQwQY6orilFNQx13ZRgPJWaloxGe-fOrc10SdElmd7mpOLp4ZUCcJmQbcUhKcadM32jD70MONvsDbsMTMnQilJvx4ZC4czcC3piUjg_2htvhw_vFbDJWH6BeB6NZW1jIz0zVVR4/s1600/DSCN2968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswPuRsQwQY6orilFNQx13ZRgPJWaloxGe-fOrc10SdElmd7mpOLp4ZUCcJmQbcUhKcadM32jD70MONvsDbsMTMnQilJvx4ZC4czcC3piUjg_2htvhw_vFbDJWH6BeB6NZW1jIz0zVVR4/s400/DSCN2968.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Basically, the entire city looked like a giant version of Bright Nights</span></td></tr>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzq7RpJzchFf3vYtlQLyRSZEc4Nm81AXVdpchvaxmHWeXcuotfr3eazw9JWt9oF-AwrZ2VTx6aZiFtKcugCFQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Spectacle son et lumi<span style="line-height: 107%;">è</span>re</i>: animations light up Place Kl</span><span style="text-align: justify;">é</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">ber with light and sound</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After being thoroughly chilled to the bone thanks to our late-night stroll in the sub-zero weather, we headed back to the hotel for the night, eager to see what the city had to offer by daylight...</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xKo2jDPdl6i7HRSPSYqqjQwwaY3A7Ks_wYTC8Dzb8_h1a2JxGGAYxWiyPJD1LuumzyJYYyA-QHG5_tzsUGjHmeZKjMDsqCKOD8AXqWMw5x0Hn1tU01ybfHEZzniEKbWZ9Dz6m5W6NCI/s1600/DSCN2973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xKo2jDPdl6i7HRSPSYqqjQwwaY3A7Ks_wYTC8Dzb8_h1a2JxGGAYxWiyPJD1LuumzyJYYyA-QHG5_tzsUGjHmeZKjMDsqCKOD8AXqWMw5x0Hn1tU01ybfHEZzniEKbWZ9Dz6m5W6NCI/s400/DSCN2973.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: medium;">La Petite France</i><span style="font-size: small;">, a section of Strasbourg filled with half-timber houses sitting along the canals of the River Ill</span></td></tr>
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Strasbourg is actually like a giant fairy-tale village, as its streets are lined with half-timber houses, all sporting vibrantly colored shutters and really giving the city a medieval feel. Add about a million Christmas lights to that and you've got yourself the perfect kitschy Christmas paradise.</div>
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As is typical, I couldn't pass up a peek inside the city's cathedral - one of the finest examples of Gothic architecture still standing today. Soaring an impressive 466 feet into the heavens, it was actually the world's tallest building for 277 years (from 1647-1874) and today stands as the world's sixth tallest church. That's quite impressive considering the building was begun in 1015 (in a time of rudimentary tools but obviously extremely precise architectural calculations), standing as a testament to the power of faith, perseverance and mind-boggling craftsmanship. It's hard to put it all into perspective when computer programs today could spit out a blueprint for this edifice without a problem, but when you take a minute to really think about it, it's actually really impressive that people were even capable of creating such beautiful works of art like this 1000 years ago with such basic tools.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The cathedral's amazingly detailed facade</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEOypb0pWpgICzFdTYqKCl6pA0D86pJcEDW20HOA7tTy7aTzoqrluVYeEPKbYQro-kIR4wHMFHj_lu98hwiGxlvFLfqh8PxbgluVgCoYk47FzqqdW4KrSfHLunxnJrVtTMJtZwKj8Yw4w/s1600/DSCN2977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEOypb0pWpgICzFdTYqKCl6pA0D86pJcEDW20HOA7tTy7aTzoqrluVYeEPKbYQro-kIR4wHMFHj_lu98hwiGxlvFLfqh8PxbgluVgCoYk47FzqqdW4KrSfHLunxnJrVtTMJtZwKj8Yw4w/s400/DSCN2977.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Radiant stained glass windows illuminate the church's interior</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The cathedral's astronomical clock, very impressive to watch all its parts whirring around</span></td></tr>
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The cathedral towers over one of Strasbourg's eleven <i>marchés de Noël</i>, serving as an impressive backdrop for the dozens of vendors peddling their wares in the square below. What can you find at the Christmas markets, you ask? A better question is what <i>can't</i> you find there...</div>
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Artisans tempt those strolling through the markets with hand-crafted ornaments, figures for the Nativity scene, fine Alsatian lace, candles, Santa hats...you name it, you can probably find it there! </div>
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And then there's the food. Cheap, delicious, made with local ingredients, and cooked to order while you wait. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My delicious lunch: sauerkraut and spaetzle mixed with bacon, onions, cheese and a white wine sauce, topped off with two bratwursts</span></td></tr>
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Hungry for lunch? How about some local <i>choucroute </i>(grilled sausages garnished with a heaping portion of barrel-cured sauerkraut)? Cheese-covered pretzels? Freshly-shucked oysters with a squeeze of lemon? What about some deep-fried frogs' legs? Pizza? Maybe even a <i>t</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>arte flambée</i></span> smothered in <i><span style="font-family: inherit;">cr<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">è</span></span>me fra<span style="line-height: 107%;">î</span>che </span></i>and topped with all the bacon, cheese and onions you could dream of... </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ofoK6LHGkd_fA534hVbvAu5EKFAekaF3agg7YkQPNp5Lr7Ezq8ygrszZJNVkLubIuoCpC5QmFLSCmH92OVQz2fdfLGvAdNI4UTixKncDI2agihwkwOENNGEI7D70BKWHuk0FtJNi6uA/s1600/IMG_20131207_205845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ofoK6LHGkd_fA534hVbvAu5EKFAekaF3agg7YkQPNp5Lr7Ezq8ygrszZJNVkLubIuoCpC5QmFLSCmH92OVQz2fdfLGvAdNI4UTixKncDI2agihwkwOENNGEI7D70BKWHuk0FtJNi6uA/s400/IMG_20131207_205845.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quite possibly the World's Largest Pretzel - all for only 3<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">€!</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thirsty? Grab a mug of </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">vin chaud</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">, France's famous mulled wine - you can get it in red or white. Christmas beer is popular here too, thanks to the region's German influence. Or if you don't feel like stumbling home from the markets, try a glass of hot spiced orange juice sweetened with a touch of honey.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7oG4aVOxvui4R4uSq_OPifA8WvsRZfPOD_cV9vxf8EKT0a28L6yuPEpzsa6Px72wJFRLJ3ZZ3Pv2dm2NljdZk1OGWlUg25L6_Q674JhYGJdV6NSFmGOxKv3x1O2w1m2B20Gcxk_lMdFI/s1600/DSCN2996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7oG4aVOxvui4R4uSq_OPifA8WvsRZfPOD_cV9vxf8EKT0a28L6yuPEpzsa6Px72wJFRLJ3ZZ3Pv2dm2NljdZk1OGWlUg25L6_Q674JhYGJdV6NSFmGOxKv3x1O2w1m2B20Gcxk_lMdFI/s400/DSCN2996.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the many <i>vin chaud </i>vendors with it huge kettles of simmering wine</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What about dessert? <i>Cr<span style="line-height: 107%;">ê</span>pes</i>,</span> deep fried <i>beignets</i> filled with Nutella, hot waffles topped with whipped cream, Alsatian nougat, Christmas cookies (of both the French and German varieties), chocolate-dipped pretzels...is your mouth watering yet?</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">1/3 liter of hot wine for 3<span style="line-height: 107%;">€, quite the bargain!</span></span></td></tr>
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The food portion of <i>les marchés de Noël</i> is a double-edged sword: everything's pretty cheap so you don't feel bad trying something...and then the next thing that catches your eye...and the next. Two hours and twenty pounds later you're rolling yourself back to your hotel wondering where your <span style="font-family: inherit;">20<span style="line-height: 107%;">€ went...but it's totally worth it!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The Christmas market at Place de la Cath<span style="text-align: justify;">é</span>drale</span></td></tr>
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You'd think we would have had our fill of Christmas cheer after our shopping/eating extravaganza in Strasbourg, but no! Meike and I headed up to Metz along with one of her friends who was visiting to see what was going on during the Christmas season there...but unfortunately there wasn't much! In any case, we enjoyed another day of shopping (and eating), and I finally got my Christmas shopping finished up.</div>
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In other news: we decorated our little Christmas tree (with popcorn garland and a batch of those amazing smelling homemade cinnamon ornaments) and Santa delivered me a box of presents from home! I couldn't have been more excited to open the box and find my stocking from home as well as some pint-sized presents to put under the tree. All that's left is to wait 2 more weeks to open them...the countdown continues... </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Our little <i>sapin de No<span style="text-align: justify;">ë</span>l</i> and some presents from home!</span></td></tr>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-50804711189939277112013-11-27T15:40:00.001-05:002013-11-27T15:40:49.964-05:00Luxembourg, Land of Many Bridges<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Feeling a little bored with Forbach and yearning to further explore our little corner of the globe, my roommate Meike and I ventured off to spend the weekend in the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7GImlJS05QYNkkAb-r3fXMAnkzKnWr2XscuakHmwRmqsjB-ofpOOVwTgfPaiOm4o21Oq-PB7Z3HTYHWTEoxVyGvcyWqWMJfvqCFjMsQEZyX_uS2JEHJyTwuYlvutZh4Vuq_zTR0mIuk/s1600/france_metz_map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7GImlJS05QYNkkAb-r3fXMAnkzKnWr2XscuakHmwRmqsjB-ofpOOVwTgfPaiOm4o21Oq-PB7Z3HTYHWTEoxVyGvcyWqWMJfvqCFjMsQEZyX_uS2JEHJyTwuYlvutZh4Vuq_zTR0mIuk/s320/france_metz_map.jpg" width="288" /></a></div>
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Landlocked between France, Belgium and Germany, Luxembourg is one of the world's smallest sovereign states, covering an area just shy of 1000 square miles. (Along with <u>Be</u>lgium and the <u>Ne</u>therlands, <u>Lux</u>embourg makes up Europe's Benelux region.) Its capital, Luxembourg City (where we stayed), is about 120 kilometers from Forbach and takes just under 2 hours to reach by train. Run by a constitutional monarchy under the Grand Duke, the country is the world's last remaining grand duchy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1cgTmpZyR4clonaNzRAc28O3ZkiO17NqevHhbWowbYJA6aDouGw398sK5G1DVZHhayXxRBZXooO-5jA5uZsteNsVufC46JAGDE4pIlKMVES6dDdZNAuUmRwVBAaCl0YF-GEFbY3iORQ/s1600/map-luxembourgmap-zones---luxembourg-map-untphfwo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1cgTmpZyR4clonaNzRAc28O3ZkiO17NqevHhbWowbYJA6aDouGw398sK5G1DVZHhayXxRBZXooO-5jA5uZsteNsVufC46JAGDE4pIlKMVES6dDdZNAuUmRwVBAaCl0YF-GEFbY3iORQ/s320/map-luxembourgmap-zones---luxembourg-map-untphfwo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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While the country itself may be small, it is quite a diverse place. <span style="text-align: justify;"> Due to its central location, Luxembourg has been controlled by many world powers throughout the centuries, serving as a Roman fortress, Frankish kingdom, and Spanish bastion, just to name a few. Consequently, the nation is a melting pot for many cultures and is also officially trilingual, with Luxembourgish, French and German as national languages - although everyone there speaks English just fine too!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgh5gM1o7_ZSI3OgE2YrigRMFBH7qZf85aPG-xCVSx8FkRw9hrtN4I277GhFy-BBTdJ3EaT1o8bwGvGHMMCWUBIPs1l2neQRxHBZms5EJ3dJy-j0FWvx1esXQGzFeyV0Y_ReGaEj_rUWA/s1600/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgh5gM1o7_ZSI3OgE2YrigRMFBH7qZf85aPG-xCVSx8FkRw9hrtN4I277GhFy-BBTdJ3EaT1o8bwGvGHMMCWUBIPs1l2neQRxHBZms5EJ3dJy-j0FWvx1esXQGzFeyV0Y_ReGaEj_rUWA/s640/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Alzette River, encircling the Grund (Lower City)</span></td></tr>
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Upon exiting the train station in Luxembourg, we could not believe how cold it was! It was definitely at least ten degrees colder here than in Forbach - I was kicking myself for not bringing a heavier scarf or gloves! I also hadn't known that the city is composed of two plateaus and a deep valley in between them, through which the wind certainly whips. Needless to say my first souvenir purchase was a thick pair of fuzzy gloves!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOq-SzK_ldkqpfnBx5D0DwtPkMooFLp-0Pv9okiXadzwyOU6zbyWzXIAQhk7oYu4XQte2dsHOtKclvOfcNhUenhe3mr1ZrI-8BUEX1B6BXr7VwrFAVJ_H0ZN46Vysd0rS-E7UQPvIorOk/s1600/DSCN2907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOq-SzK_ldkqpfnBx5D0DwtPkMooFLp-0Pv9okiXadzwyOU6zbyWzXIAQhk7oYu4XQte2dsHOtKclvOfcNhUenhe3mr1ZrI-8BUEX1B6BXr7VwrFAVJ_H0ZN46Vysd0rS-E7UQPvIorOk/s400/DSCN2907.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A memorial statue to Duchess Charlotte</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We didn't have much of an agenda for our weekend besides visiting a few museums, but when we arrived on Saturday, we learned that it was opening day for the Marc<span style="font-family: inherit;">hés de No</span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">ë</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">l,</span> the traditional German-inspired Christmas markets that pop up every year. This was a nice surprise, as the markets have lots of delicious fresh-cooked food to offer at prices that won't break the bank, helping to keep costs down and make for a relatively inexpensive weekend stay.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOUg4dW9vVjpLmWYteI3FMRUyt0az5R5joDmD2hjsY3Ie4Vq4dRYFDtnEtzoceBVgHxPfsf_6iXFKWkgStO2Wa2WqWyGbi7swmjNdn4jwUVZCv0lBfRrq_wqla5oxk_S9_lhcNE4UCZo/s1600/DSCN2932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOUg4dW9vVjpLmWYteI3FMRUyt0az5R5joDmD2hjsY3Ie4Vq4dRYFDtnEtzoceBVgHxPfsf_6iXFKWkgStO2Wa2WqWyGbi7swmjNdn4jwUVZCv0lBfRrq_wqla5oxk_S9_lhcNE4UCZo/s400/DSCN2932.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Christmas food at the markets with a German/Luxembourgish flair</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk95XRdGySk7ofpIJmhlmxGVzVg3jzSLOAgs8uQV8fefX71wvYB3Amf-cbzWqvu8Ip4aoHRid7agO2anUaNqgAnVlu5ZbOACAt8DY_nuf_N_hxwp4D0EJ2dimBaGcKzJsj639Qj1Tn00o/s1600/DSCN2928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk95XRdGySk7ofpIJmhlmxGVzVg3jzSLOAgs8uQV8fefX71wvYB3Amf-cbzWqvu8Ip4aoHRid7agO2anUaNqgAnVlu5ZbOACAt8DY_nuf_N_hxwp4D0EJ2dimBaGcKzJsj639Qj1Tn00o/s400/DSCN2928.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">We did splurge on one meal - a delicious <i>tarte fla<span style="font-family: inherit;">mb</span></i></span><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i>é</i></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i>e</i> covered with bacon, onions, potatoes and various Alpine cheeses...<i>miam miam</i>!</span></td></tr>
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We stumbled upon the city's cathedral and took advantage of a free organ concert - as well as a much needed break from the cold weather! The church was filled with gorgeously carved columns and vibrant stained glass windows, as well as a pipe organ that could literally knock your socks off - quite a pleasure to behold. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8fALaP3UlHDhBA8_KSQmeotvi1AiHiSNujy2U3vk8mpBqQuluce_K3x7u4Cl8wJdoC7gFy-UEkfC2cciz8KiaNk1AeluYwqXI3mwmdISEz0Dvzl21eY59dyyjE1WnDa71pdF9IkqdrQ/s1600/DSCN2908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8fALaP3UlHDhBA8_KSQmeotvi1AiHiSNujy2U3vk8mpBqQuluce_K3x7u4Cl8wJdoC7gFy-UEkfC2cciz8KiaNk1AeluYwqXI3mwmdISEz0Dvzl21eY59dyyjE1WnDa71pdF9IkqdrQ/s400/DSCN2908.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Inside the cathedral</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVT5Fm1lGx1Q8gI0TeMCrOkH03xF5qBSt5Vl-tBxRSvAii9yQNDGUAckiRauEjArhdgPA7nvnbxcTIU3vysfsvHP9n2dBba2SLXm4_upaiaYYjzhs14orPNyJ-28Ep5lNsRLZ3ssA6KPg/s1600/DSCN2912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVT5Fm1lGx1Q8gI0TeMCrOkH03xF5qBSt5Vl-tBxRSvAii9yQNDGUAckiRauEjArhdgPA7nvnbxcTIU3vysfsvHP9n2dBba2SLXm4_upaiaYYjzhs14orPNyJ-28Ep5lNsRLZ3ssA6KPg/s400/DSCN2912.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Beautiful stained glass windows adorn the walls behind the altar</span></td></tr>
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Venturing back outside into the cold, we took a stroll by the Royal Palace and continued along the remnants of the city's old fortress walls, making our way down into the Grund (Lower City) to the Museum of Natural History - free with a student ID (even with expired ones, apparently!). While it didn't hold a candle to similar museums in New York and DC, the eclectic collection of taxidermied wildlife, fossils, and even live stick-bug exhibits gave us a reason to escape the howling wind for an hour or so!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-M9ESCr-2zGr_NZeukvoqmx1fVhjMtRiHUQCernDaz_KW1Ab9D3LXQiPI-F_U28pVtzxbWGXnkPOSPS3k_vPMbXiiWQTAh7ze0dfVFB7b8U7dlTP_94QNlq0Z_k1Gs0GLP1li0S2FYM/s1600/DSCN2913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-M9ESCr-2zGr_NZeukvoqmx1fVhjMtRiHUQCernDaz_KW1Ab9D3LXQiPI-F_U28pVtzxbWGXnkPOSPS3k_vPMbXiiWQTAh7ze0dfVFB7b8U7dlTP_94QNlq0Z_k1Gs0GLP1li0S2FYM/s400/DSCN2913.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Royal Palace</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjklphvxVpYYieDcIWZOhRF6FCMJkw8th4gaBwKtjPmJD1pmyeITTWXTRo-6D3RZzEiz_zG8Z2g8aibeogbYVKlr-6p3Mxjm8KkeB5lw9kh2vWgrS0F2iUI_7v0ZZJPkJ26RRULyRT-PMw/s1600/DSCN2918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjklphvxVpYYieDcIWZOhRF6FCMJkw8th4gaBwKtjPmJD1pmyeITTWXTRo-6D3RZzEiz_zG8Z2g8aibeogbYVKlr-6p3Mxjm8KkeB5lw9kh2vWgrS0F2iUI_7v0ZZJPkJ26RRULyRT-PMw/s400/DSCN2918.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Walking along the old fortress walls</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKvNAMrI5_UfRBStddguVY-ptMJBhwQwg3OSmh3tfY2zfd_gELFzd5I8cLFywplOSokdy9rMcYgoygA_tkhuuuysU8N3I4OVXvXkxpVrGkMNKmPdWt8dFn267p357-f6M3RCqxyxoUWqA/s1600/IMG_20131123_172511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKvNAMrI5_UfRBStddguVY-ptMJBhwQwg3OSmh3tfY2zfd_gELFzd5I8cLFywplOSokdy9rMcYgoygA_tkhuuuysU8N3I4OVXvXkxpVrGkMNKmPdWt8dFn267p357-f6M3RCqxyxoUWqA/s400/IMG_20131123_172511.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Houses along the Alzette River in the Grund (Lower City)</span></td></tr>
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Meike and I spent the evening at the city's various Christmas markets which definitely put me in the holiday spirit! As you wander among the little log cabins selling locally-produced cheese and sausage, hand-crafted ornaments, thick sweaters made from the finest Luxembourgish wool, and anything else you might imagine, you can join throngs of people crowded around bonfires to warm up as you drink a glass of <i>vin chaud</i> (hot mulled wine), munch on some <i>spaetzle</i> with cheese and locally-sourced bacon...and listen to The Jackson 5 singing American Christmas tunes which are blasted from multiple speakers in every square. Quite the experience!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6V5a_PAuLGRCNPDNnMIQx33lN017qa26ugIRjtAno8M9_8GRdGE41WKt4wvtVujX0sX6m0X_HOUuemfY97RHR3c6k7w2n9XFvjL-f6DoSY8PXgImK7qLPG2Y_4RCPu0zzA0ulUv4_-E/s1600/DSCN2937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6V5a_PAuLGRCNPDNnMIQx33lN017qa26ugIRjtAno8M9_8GRdGE41WKt4wvtVujX0sX6m0X_HOUuemfY97RHR3c6k7w2n9XFvjL-f6DoSY8PXgImK7qLPG2Y_4RCPu0zzA0ulUv4_-E/s400/DSCN2937.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike near one of the more festive <i>vin chaud</i> vendors</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQo9np7z08eF6fHoDwghRtt3rgdxyjzz5vvxDYVfFj2ld3pmRt6KIVQBkxAUKJfP4cCBw2DXxu1AzIHthEQbsNzAeG_NWYlMsbFBXfx9qMYNQ23HRl_fxecBllWWUuTMbu0qZJ9eq4Sg/s1600/DSCN2936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQo9np7z08eF6fHoDwghRtt3rgdxyjzz5vvxDYVfFj2ld3pmRt6KIVQBkxAUKJfP4cCBw2DXxu1AzIHthEQbsNzAeG_NWYlMsbFBXfx9qMYNQ23HRl_fxecBllWWUuTMbu0qZJ9eq4Sg/s400/DSCN2936.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>La Grande Roue</i> - most big cities have a Ferris wheel during the Christmas season</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The next day, we decided to check out the Mus<span style="line-height: 107%;">é</span>e Dra<span style="line-height: 107%;">ï</span> Eechelen ("Museum of the Three Acorns" in Luxembourgish) which showcases the history of the city's fortresses throughout the millenia. As I mentioned earlier, the city is spread across two plateaus, a deep valley, some forests, a river...the list goes on. According to our map, the fortress/museum appeared to be pretty close to the historic city center that we'd been exploring the day before, so we figured it'd be no big deal to walk over to the fort. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnR91Ri9LeWMAMrTUWJsmyU96W6quK2yeMJ8ZhTHxLciE8NjnND7fZzUy-T9_1jcOimNFUmtxys6RseM237MjhuTu3pIBoskotPFu_vQHUNEi26wLkK3qQepsltyXe-RbW54B2INGVV04/s1600/IMG_20131124_171921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnR91Ri9LeWMAMrTUWJsmyU96W6quK2yeMJ8ZhTHxLciE8NjnND7fZzUy-T9_1jcOimNFUmtxys6RseM237MjhuTu3pIBoskotPFu_vQHUNEi26wLkK3qQepsltyXe-RbW54B2INGVV04/s400/IMG_20131124_171921.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gorgeous views from our stroll along the city's defensive walls</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Had someone informed me I'd have to shimmy down the twisting path from the upper city to the valley, follow a winding road along the river, go on a hike through the woods up a steep/muddy path and cross multiple sketchy bridges spanning vast crevasses in the forest, I might have thought twice about heading all the way over there...our 2D map failed to mention the vast elevation changes and woodland strolls! It was another chilly day, so at least our hike helped warm us up and gave us a chance to get some fresh forest air.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqQIYj8N7TMeT2PL9DLZcKw9pxPsZ4JHjXhuFx_zj9gkKQJT3xWSASWNxoYsy-g4QGo7x1uBNdJ8H_5yf9zjYmuQPGAAYh1WDassFn1A2izqPvcizGjlBao4c-uMLFHSJ52mqww4Wh_c/s1600/DSCN2919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqQIYj8N7TMeT2PL9DLZcKw9pxPsZ4JHjXhuFx_zj9gkKQJT3xWSASWNxoYsy-g4QGo7x1uBNdJ8H_5yf9zjYmuQPGAAYh1WDassFn1A2izqPvcizGjlBao4c-uMLFHSJ52mqww4Wh_c/s400/DSCN2919.JPG" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Luxembourg, home of modern highway bridges...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyrETVDyzfP55yGNOeIvrxZFEmVN3R6vBzXdIOBO-lF_BNENubz4DJlYtF5h4pmm8487HxH2W17-5BFcQJ62S58pWkGV3qs2olMRgqXKbws3MfCP2aCZ4hhj-DFr4rdKR_b3BvijpBkQg/s1600/DSCN2921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyrETVDyzfP55yGNOeIvrxZFEmVN3R6vBzXdIOBO-lF_BNENubz4DJlYtF5h4pmm8487HxH2W17-5BFcQJ62S58pWkGV3qs2olMRgqXKbws3MfCP2aCZ4hhj-DFr4rdKR_b3BvijpBkQg/s400/DSCN2921.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...ancient viaducts (now used for trains), and every other sort of bridge imaginable!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In any case, when we finally made it out of the woods and up to the museum, we were treated to an amazing view of the city! You're able to walk through the maze of old defensive walls, moats and tunnels leading to the main fortress where the museum is located inside the old blockhouse, the heavily fortified structure from which defenders could fire at their enemies.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgaLKXjJa_LxlsDXf7cqhGijvg7urd9R1neOQbVjykQPdcsLEExNfeEWvsiGyOYbG9U7tkentAYekLl3XBZ2MxcyL-yuFqEW7Vcyancj_H4FkXJE5mfLBjBDqhCtmmVcxeW3bDcXe4QI/s1600/DSCN2945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgaLKXjJa_LxlsDXf7cqhGijvg7urd9R1neOQbVjykQPdcsLEExNfeEWvsiGyOYbG9U7tkentAYekLl3XBZ2MxcyL-yuFqEW7Vcyancj_H4FkXJE5mfLBjBDqhCtmmVcxeW3bDcXe4QI/s400/DSCN2945.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">We made it! Standing atop the fortress walls with a view of the city behind me</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The museum was free for students (seriously, hold on to your old/expired college IDs and try to use them wherever possible, they can save you so much money!) and had an impressive collection of cannons, guns, swords, armor and even the city guillotine - its shining blade hanging precariously above all those walking below.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPSpSq3oKZwX7W-4uxxcyQ4Q0N2masEWK6CFl-U0FQv45oXt8vYVSD3NwmH3tPVg7Hn8PDRoj7M2Jz9yuaIV5FcUtO2Not0ZGr8BUrMBdrok3YYP1ZNsuZnGOHvafdxh5s8rbV4nXxRk/s1600/IMG_20131124_172216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPSpSq3oKZwX7W-4uxxcyQ4Q0N2masEWK6CFl-U0FQv45oXt8vYVSD3NwmH3tPVg7Hn8PDRoj7M2Jz9yuaIV5FcUtO2Not0ZGr8BUrMBdrok3YYP1ZNsuZnGOHvafdxh5s8rbV4nXxRk/s400/IMG_20131124_172216.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the three acorn-shaped towers belonging to the Museum</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Meike and I had worked up quite an appetite after our early-morning wilderness excursion, so retracing our steps, we made it back to the Upper City on the other side of the valley, deciding to swing by the Christmas markets one more time to grab some lunch...and more hot wine of course! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2YJN3ZGjVMmrP4lc9fyPKzsRMoV5BLZFnub0iwpEV6ysv3wY7zFMJ3IFQHuxG78Hwfefw76N1kV_o3rplBfsLm2eIYwYQj7EuDZudC6VKiYDhmRvpOO8uGv9v7z-Eibi4FnfbFKDpAs/s1600/IMG_20131123_172323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2YJN3ZGjVMmrP4lc9fyPKzsRMoV5BLZFnub0iwpEV6ysv3wY7zFMJ3IFQHuxG78Hwfefw76N1kV_o3rplBfsLm2eIYwYQj7EuDZudC6VKiYDhmRvpOO8uGv9v7z-Eibi4FnfbFKDpAs/s400/IMG_20131123_172323.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Grund as seen from atop the city walls</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKG2qeReQNnmCL5afSUGy31EUkulbDpmit2A7oWrb_1LlJNEw1jfTxI9gEFoqNip69Mj1Twd1ky8QiMI80Jq9LHg7GwhztPT2NQlHo07xL28gxb2VpGWbzamZNFHJz41FaSZkf0rWlS1U/s1600/DSCN2950.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKG2qeReQNnmCL5afSUGy31EUkulbDpmit2A7oWrb_1LlJNEw1jfTxI9gEFoqNip69Mj1Twd1ky8QiMI80Jq9LHg7GwhztPT2NQlHo07xL28gxb2VpGWbzamZNFHJz41FaSZkf0rWlS1U/s400/DSCN2950.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Vin chaud</i> - it even came in a festive boot-shaped mug!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I also made a delicious culinary discovery during our trip: </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Lebkuchen</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">! These mouth-watering delicacies are spice cakes half covered in dark chocolate, half sugar glazed, and typical of German-influenced Christmas markets found in Eastern France and other countries sharing a border with Germany. (I was excited to find them in the supermarket here in Forbach upon my return to France.) Once again, my quest to be adventurous and try any local food encountered on my travels pays off! And speaking of food, Thanksgiving's tomorrow...I'm whipping up a feast for my fellow language teaching assistants who are German and British, we'll see what they think of Turkey and pumpkin pie!</span></div>
</div>
Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-71433941223327329912013-11-12T15:44:00.000-05:002013-11-12T15:44:52.485-05:00Carte de Séjour: Check!<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Last week, I had to make a trip up to Metz
to pay OFII (<i>L’Office Français de l’Immigration et de l’Intégration</i>, the
French Bureau of Immigration and Integration) a visit in order to finalize my
visa. But of course, since this is France and they love bureaucracy here,
it wasn't just as simple as that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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When you apply for a French visa, you have
to begin the process of registering with OFII as well - you fill out a form
with all your passport & visa info and then bring it with you to France.
After you arrive in France, you need to fill out the second part of the
form which lists your French address, and then you mail it in to the
authorities. Whenever they get around to it, the government will schedule
you a medical visit at the nearest OFII office, and then it's up to you to drop
everything and show up when they say so. Sometimes it happens that the
OFII visits get scheduled when you have to work, or when you're visiting a
foreign land on vacation - but that doesn't matter to the government, because
if you fail to show up for your appointments, you essentially become an illegal
resident of France. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24ZuBJW3_AuVRIfMo23iy_7-hm7JTO0n7D1Zf2-xPN2U7RXPmJ9tTXb22NiAQoygvi6Z-S_WRbAIDQ0G39TyCjS30S9kB7W2HGc0ewzQe95FgXG7hjKj4QyM2q16BOO5-lhsRkL3GcTM/s1600/ofii.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24ZuBJW3_AuVRIfMo23iy_7-hm7JTO0n7D1Zf2-xPN2U7RXPmJ9tTXb22NiAQoygvi6Z-S_WRbAIDQ0G39TyCjS30S9kB7W2HGc0ewzQe95FgXG7hjKj4QyM2q16BOO5-lhsRkL3GcTM/s1600/ofii.jpg" /></a></div>
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Thankfully, my appointment got scheduled
on a Wednesday (one of my days off!), which alleviated a lot of stress for me -
no need to rearrange my schedule! But still, getting to Metz for my
8:30am appointment meant hopping on a train at 6:35am and making the hour-long
trek up to Metz, arriving only to learn that the one bus I needed to catch had
just pulled away from the station...<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The immigration visit has two parts:
first, you go to the radiology suite at a hospital to get a chest x-ray, and
then you go to the OFII office for the rest of your medical exam. My
x-ray was scheduled for 8:30am, meaning that I only had one shot to catch the
bus to the hospital before I'd have to walk all the way there. And as
finding the one bus stop I needed among the rush-hour crowds gathered around
the 10 other tramway/bus stops that arrive in front of the train station took
longer than anticipated...I watched the C11 bus roll right past me - not a
great way to start my already stressful morning!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thankfully, I had planned ahead and
printed out a map and some Google directions in case I got stuck walking to the
hospital. They sure came in handy when I found myself running down the
sidewalk next to the bus, hoping I'd be able to keep up with it until it came
to the next stop...and of course I had no such luck! Out came my map, and I
began an arduous 3 kilometer speed-walk to the hospital. Did I mention it was
raining? And I now only had 35 minutes to make it there on time? <o:p></o:p></div>
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With cramped up legs, toting my messenger
bag filled with all sorts of visa paperwork, sweaty and holding an umbrella, I
must have been quite the hot mess when I bumbled into the radiology clinic at
8:25am - with 5 minutes to spare, no less! I was pleasantly surprised to
find 9 other English teaching assistants there as well, so we were able to chat
about our anxieties together. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I had heard horror stories about the x-ray
portion of the day: the general idea was that you're led into an exam room,
told to strip from the waist up, given nothing to cover yourself up with (i.e.
hospital gown) and then led topless down a long hallway filled with various
passersby to the room where the x-ray machines are - not quite my idea of a
good time! Thankfully, this was false information; you were brought into
a little dressing room, removed your clothes and then quickly stepped into an
adjoining room with no one else but a nurse to have the x-ray done. So much
less stressful than anticipated! X-ray in hand, I left the hospital with
one of the other teaching assistants and we took the bus back downtown for our
next appointment, scheduled for 10:00. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnk-HlnYyIF26VZbYeG5JOWpIx6CB960fYE-Sn6_YnNnaZ81gmmkOlZL-yONDh2fpR4pEEt6v2suBAy-qryQScnfWgpNPHL7tauLxAwxPZYTb8x6Nk4kWzK4OeLOpRokrh_U3w2WoAx4k/s1600/IMG_20131106_214030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnk-HlnYyIF26VZbYeG5JOWpIx6CB960fYE-Sn6_YnNnaZ81gmmkOlZL-yONDh2fpR4pEEt6v2suBAy-qryQScnfWgpNPHL7tauLxAwxPZYTb8x6Nk4kWzK4OeLOpRokrh_U3w2WoAx4k/s400/IMG_20131106_214030.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tada!</span></td></tr>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
I relished the 12 minute bus ride back to
the train station, grateful that I didn't have to trudge through the rain
again! We arrived with plenty of time to spare, so we had time to grab a hot
chocolate and a delicious pastry at a cute little<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>salon de thé<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>before heading across the
street to the OFII building. The OFII visit was comprised of 3 different
interviews: one with a doctor who checks your chest x-ray for TB, asks if you
smoke and listens to your heart; the next with a nurse who takes your height
and weight and checks your eyesight, and the third with someone who prints your<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>carte de séjour</i> (French
residency permit) and affixes it in your passport. My visa alone is only
good for 3 months without the <i>carte de séjour</i>, so in order to stay in France for the length of my 8-month
contract, the OFII visit is mandatory.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Short of
mailing in my Social Security paperwork in order to obtain a French social
security number and be able take advantage of the country's wonderful socialist
health care system, I'm pretty much finished with French bureaucratic matters
(I hope!). It only took 2 months and 72 Euro ($98) to get my birth
certificate translated...ugh. The hoops you have to jump through here to get
anything accomplished are ridiculous, but I'm hoping that from here on out I'm
home free!<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCfUajTZfACfTR7zY9OdFSAWE6Xeoh2NPw0nYsmI24k9G9mkxYdcvJ341ac1e6w-384XiDmSqWYCf4HREWgwKVBf-9zz1RyeFNMSw06h0yjJHCyFVHUYd3R6F8ZZE2iil_NqWK1t_8aY/s1600/DSCN2903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCfUajTZfACfTR7zY9OdFSAWE6Xeoh2NPw0nYsmI24k9G9mkxYdcvJ341ac1e6w-384XiDmSqWYCf4HREWgwKVBf-9zz1RyeFNMSw06h0yjJHCyFVHUYd3R6F8ZZE2iil_NqWK1t_8aY/s400/DSCN2903.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Centre Pompidou - Metz</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
My day in Metz wasn't a complete headache, though. I got to check out the Centre Pompidou - Metz, a branch of the Pompidou museum of modern art in Paris, for free since I'm under 26 (why can't the US give amazing benefits to its young citizens as well?!), and then I met up with my roommate for a day of shopping in the city. And to top it all off, I now have an awesome chest x-ray to add to my collection of random souvenirs acquired in Europe...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWu00_EiODkCrxxsJKs2lpA2CNX27ib0mvi5_vRwR6DhqxUhKCDmAPaECC9nRbbj_9vCAtnU3XPYdWQ89WpKqkl51VpEYPAjJYWDXqahqtrh3iY6gdAQsI-EGyephppyoQs__9jY28uc/s1600/DSCN2902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWu00_EiODkCrxxsJKs2lpA2CNX27ib0mvi5_vRwR6DhqxUhKCDmAPaECC9nRbbj_9vCAtnU3XPYdWQ89WpKqkl51VpEYPAjJYWDXqahqtrh3iY6gdAQsI-EGyephppyoQs__9jY28uc/s400/DSCN2902.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcel Duchamp's "Bicycle Wheel" (1913)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="FR"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com1Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-29491593643377836272013-11-07T13:40:00.002-05:002013-11-07T13:40:47.201-05:00La Toussaint - Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Next stop: Spain? Not quite.</span></div>
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Have you ever heard people talk about how amazing the city of Narbonne, France is? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Wait...you haven't? Can't say I'm entirely surprised! Kasey, Eric and I got to take a little side trip here on our way down to Spain and were less than impressed...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Backtrack to Tuesday the 22nd. The three of us arrive at the Toulouse train station about 40 minutes before our train was scheduled to leave - apparently this wasn't quite enough time. I stood guard over everyone's bags while Eric and Kasey went to go get their tickets printed (along with about 30 other people who were ahead of them), and thanks to a variety of factors, but mostly the fact that the man at the counter printed the wrong ticket for Eric, we stood at the platform and waved as our train pulled out of the station.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, we all got to get back in line and explain what just happened to a different ticket agent - he was extremely patient and after about 40 minutes we all had refunds for the portions of our voyage to Spain that we hadn't used yet and got new tickets to get us there later that day. Originally, we were slated to take a train from Toulouse to Narbonne, have a 20 minute layover, then take a train from Narbonne to Figures Vilafant in Spain, and finally take a regional train from Figures to Girona. Well, we ended up with the same itinerary, but our 20 minute stop in Narbonne was now stretched out to 6 hours!! [Here's my <a href="https://mapsengine.google.com/map/edit?mid=zEnM-sPf-W20.kXmShvuoOTKE">map</a> again so you can see where this was all taking place!]</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNz2Bg8lMk98tiznuPIFMGknZ0lYxPihX2fLfwNOkgCQP5WPG0TdIZ4xxr2pAzJwtJhRF1IgSBMJlINqtwC_HC5B1T2CpuB3o80LJiHxQx7SENKgJtFDbd5biIrFUcS3goq9TWVJI0u4/s1600/DSCN2774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNz2Bg8lMk98tiznuPIFMGknZ0lYxPihX2fLfwNOkgCQP5WPG0TdIZ4xxr2pAzJwtJhRF1IgSBMJlINqtwC_HC5B1T2CpuB3o80LJiHxQx7SENKgJtFDbd5biIrFUcS3goq9TWVJI0u4/s400/DSCN2774.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Narbonne: Never Again!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Trying to be optimistic, we decided it was ok because we'd be able to see yet another city during our vacation - we were going to be stuck there anyways, so why not properly check out the city? So, weighed down with all of our luggage, that's exactly what we did.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
The fifth train of our trip got us to Narbonne. After killing an hour and a half at a restaurant with some paninis and sangria (and listening to the bartender hack up a lung all throughout our lunch), we trudged down what appeared to be the main road towards the center of town. Thankfully we stumbled upon the Cathedral of St. Just and St. Pasteur which conveniently had a nice little park just outside its cloister where we sat in the cool, blustery weather for another couple hours. Eventually venturing inside the cloister and further inside the church itself, I was entertained for a little while at least, admiring the beautiful architecture all the while.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuSfpk-8VbZtlIhC5myPinHjXapYFvAhFUl8DXVDiIIdgtplfG9TgKYFrw979vd7TPbsKKi1_GT21mqHhlXl3F-ArwmIfh4VqeupU_LAdStxjBD0Ab8oci2N_mgv3PGsU_x1FMDy1Bs4/s1600/Narbonne_Cathedrale_Saint_Just_et_Saint_Pasteur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuSfpk-8VbZtlIhC5myPinHjXapYFvAhFUl8DXVDiIIdgtplfG9TgKYFrw979vd7TPbsKKi1_GT21mqHhlXl3F-ArwmIfh4VqeupU_LAdStxjBD0Ab8oci2N_mgv3PGsU_x1FMDy1Bs4/s400/Narbonne_Cathedrale_Saint_Just_et_Saint_Pasteur.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">If it had been a nice sunny day and we had been able to scale a neighboring building to get a good view of the cathedral, this would have been it! (But it wasn't, so we didn't...)</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Begun in 1272, this church is famous for never being completed - only the choir (the area immediately surrounding the altar) has been built. You can imagine how large and impressive the entire thing would have been had it actually been completed.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUQ63iIvRQdNihvnDe44KzcOxor1gBTijNUosFN6ymJSQ3ksTPeiEElkCYHGBC0cR19lmRWUcFfyRZRY6zi3ZyUVFA8h0oVpBawCWYntzyv6dKtkewq2-175QoCTtWGDsve3DjmaFYFQ/s1600/DSCN2752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUQ63iIvRQdNihvnDe44KzcOxor1gBTijNUosFN6ymJSQ3ksTPeiEElkCYHGBC0cR19lmRWUcFfyRZRY6zi3ZyUVFA8h0oVpBawCWYntzyv6dKtkewq2-175QoCTtWGDsve3DjmaFYFQ/s400/DSCN2752.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The side of the cathedral with the unfinished transept</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw426tFsZZnsindw3RLVYxwQbmm_3ch_ePUeTWxMnxMNyWNYiZ6E9gQUpUXB-ROz_SamP8DDcnvHvAgNyBjD_DLXPmO3ImdYkE9p-PzCGSnpFj1EbRqMIeSuhcKKjzfJfGsdNb3reNju0/s1600/DSCN2754.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw426tFsZZnsindw3RLVYxwQbmm_3ch_ePUeTWxMnxMNyWNYiZ6E9gQUpUXB-ROz_SamP8DDcnvHvAgNyBjD_DLXPmO3ImdYkE9p-PzCGSnpFj1EbRqMIeSuhcKKjzfJfGsdNb3reNju0/s400/DSCN2754.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRpNOksRuGYRZPejPc5saHPPcQDrR-HEEoHPTT9gztG3kyFE6QqA_DFRoOj7BpGe5DNnEkMoQS-RZduD_scWwweFH7l8eccsbqYE4Agop8Rh9hgbSJtonVLEY1mAjGNtbiny5pv6_TYRM/s1600/DSCN2761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRpNOksRuGYRZPejPc5saHPPcQDrR-HEEoHPTT9gztG3kyFE6QqA_DFRoOj7BpGe5DNnEkMoQS-RZduD_scWwweFH7l8eccsbqYE4Agop8Rh9hgbSJtonVLEY1mAjGNtbiny5pv6_TYRM/s400/DSCN2761.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Inside the cloister</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5dgBcWqNhB_XHoXOZzI-RxakZl7lgVyjKcq_XpSDybck4D0i2HovrrkP0H06TPc0wPzl8S2-gcDk6QQucw-VLYj40smF2YcCk9ZBknVKmsrrDw9MRZj17ZDocbU7N_DBfRNTB_7l4Rc/s1600/DSCN2763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5dgBcWqNhB_XHoXOZzI-RxakZl7lgVyjKcq_XpSDybck4D0i2HovrrkP0H06TPc0wPzl8S2-gcDk6QQucw-VLYj40smF2YcCk9ZBknVKmsrrDw9MRZj17ZDocbU7N_DBfRNTB_7l4Rc/s400/DSCN2763.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Wall of Thanks inside the cathedral</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyoq-3RVqrKsN4xvb5Xk1_hEGbTnZCBMf37m3JbYzgwLSCIplTDBQuDJXzZAFegYEN7qcyi2HyOrddXrGDCraJjrmA_hleMlVI93I_DgotzrANXTEyLHhY1r4ed7s3DfqpLIIlsrSth2o/s1600/DSCN2765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyoq-3RVqrKsN4xvb5Xk1_hEGbTnZCBMf37m3JbYzgwLSCIplTDBQuDJXzZAFegYEN7qcyi2HyOrddXrGDCraJjrmA_hleMlVI93I_DgotzrANXTEyLHhY1r4ed7s3DfqpLIIlsrSth2o/s400/DSCN2765.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At least there were pretty windows to look at!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_3-63EVLU0xJ7pUVmW-_8g7XiXFHl0NcsVxbuTM4Q4chduL-S2AbvMODytZ76Kfj9Jz7mASp_25VpXQhoF7B5oYeNmf15vydztEjelRar7-Kedfv_q_drMOV0Ebcph1DxESvF6uhnCQ/s1600/DSCN2772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_3-63EVLU0xJ7pUVmW-_8g7XiXFHl0NcsVxbuTM4Q4chduL-S2AbvMODytZ76Kfj9Jz7mASp_25VpXQhoF7B5oYeNmf15vydztEjelRar7-Kedfv_q_drMOV0Ebcph1DxESvF6uhnCQ/s400/DSCN2772.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The church is celebrated for its grand organ, an impressive sight to behold</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTo3bLfyVOABuV9MY66dK3Tvad10PJl8GNbueSA6ImZRwUtMYKE7TNku7JxjQ3U1jtP-DMg7ylXo6kq8WEYVxP4DKhyDspKM4mjRd7zMBGEcynuHmf9WJ0a7lVoArj-98ZuCrekS3qIk/s1600/DSCN2767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTo3bLfyVOABuV9MY66dK3Tvad10PJl8GNbueSA6ImZRwUtMYKE7TNku7JxjQ3U1jtP-DMg7ylXo6kq8WEYVxP4DKhyDspKM4mjRd7zMBGEcynuHmf9WJ0a7lVoArj-98ZuCrekS3qIk/s400/DSCN2767.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just in time for Halloween?</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
We ate some snacks in the little park by the church and then once again hefted our bags all the way back to the train station - bound and determined not to miss our train, we got there an hour and a half before we were scheduled to leave. We were sure in for a treat when we spent the next hour sitting in the world's most depressing, run-down waiting room you could ever imagine! Needless to say, when the train to Spain finally pulled up, we were the first ones to get on.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBeti2QrXxwpwkCEe4f1XtkBJMkd8f1WGdqRii382IJlgjj6ZiHsKqSMpNPlEKKJ3PqPRj4B2dXDPfXEjlWTJ6euhaK76OiAiferGNnk39cu0LBSposwmLWXNtfbpISu4q-HSryy22Jo/s1600/DSCN2758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBeti2QrXxwpwkCEe4f1XtkBJMkd8f1WGdqRii382IJlgjj6ZiHsKqSMpNPlEKKJ3PqPRj4B2dXDPfXEjlWTJ6euhaK76OiAiferGNnk39cu0LBSposwmLWXNtfbpISu4q-HSryy22Jo/s400/DSCN2758.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The building we got to stare at while we spent hours waiting in the park by the church - at least it was pretty!</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
An hour later we arrived at Figures Vilafant and hopped on our sixth train to Girona, which thankfully was only a mere 13 minute ride away. Exhausted and hungry, we checked into our hostel and quickly found a traditional Catalunyan restaurant. (Catalunya is a very distinct region of northern Spain with its own language and Barcelona as its capitol. There's a strong movement here for Catalunya to secede from Spain and become its own autonomous entity, but that's another story...)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Both Kasey and Eric speak basic Spanish, but that was of little help to us at this restaurant where the menu was entirely in Catalan - similar to Spanish but essentially a whole different animal. Thankfully, our waiter was super friendly and literally explained the entire menu to us in English. After settling on a few traditional dishes and a pitcher of sangria, we were finally able to have a relaxing end to a stressful day!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzfBjw2kSy_YZ4-RkKFkUbQ-Z_vVEeb9aZHdguzZU_wwZNQTIC2moMCHLO6bzPxE5gQt2CPCqx-Cvs5MVCu9759_rgJbSYY2gx5B1neh1ynnBPDeDWVtT-lSYkSoIvGPxSvZDA7ATfiE/s1600/DSCN2775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzfBjw2kSy_YZ4-RkKFkUbQ-Z_vVEeb9aZHdguzZU_wwZNQTIC2moMCHLO6bzPxE5gQt2CPCqx-Cvs5MVCu9759_rgJbSYY2gx5B1neh1ynnBPDeDWVtT-lSYkSoIvGPxSvZDA7ATfiE/s400/DSCN2775.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Part of my Catalunyan dinner: a hearty, spicy beef and vegetable stew</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ever eager to travel, we decided to get up early again the next morning and take a day trip to Barcelona. Located only 100 kilometers from Girona (about 60 miles) and costing only 15 euros round-trip, we figured if we'd already come this far, it was worth visiting. So back to the train station we went, boarding the train once again for a 90 minute journey south through the picturesque Spanish countryside.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1L8X7wUwpFZ-WhLZ5gcaW6e4iETjuxprXy8v19MTeVYEMt5CmrOsout57mxj1LWj0SIOdccgd9SygXxU2bu3cCWl_G1gOWBTFcjIwfsKi-XZWluU7u0GEp0RI7d0scfkN8XQUjdmiQzQ/s1600/DSCN2787_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1L8X7wUwpFZ-WhLZ5gcaW6e4iETjuxprXy8v19MTeVYEMt5CmrOsout57mxj1LWj0SIOdccgd9SygXxU2bu3cCWl_G1gOWBTFcjIwfsKi-XZWluU7u0GEp0RI7d0scfkN8XQUjdmiQzQ/s640/DSCN2787_stitch.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hola Barcelona! The view from Parc G</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">ü</span><span style="font-size: small;">ell</span></td></tr>
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<div>
Upon our arrival, we quickly sought out the tourism office in order to get our hands on a map of the city so we could cram as many sights into our day trip as possible. We lucked out weather-wise during our entire two-week trip, but in Barcelona the thermometer topped out close to 80 with a bit of humidity - perfect for soaking up some sun!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAgMgg0xjcMkJSvD06crhOzQ0mUa61Z03Q7ye2Bjh5mftgUVWfsNg2s1rOfkzyJOHDMpNUOLFemxBU232VfswZyKnwcDt0LK4TkcjUx5r6kjg_mkdo-hfCwlwG4AbH62XU8IafxhWk1oY/s1600/DSCN2777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAgMgg0xjcMkJSvD06crhOzQ0mUa61Z03Q7ye2Bjh5mftgUVWfsNg2s1rOfkzyJOHDMpNUOLFemxBU232VfswZyKnwcDt0LK4TkcjUx5r6kjg_mkdo-hfCwlwG4AbH62XU8IafxhWk1oY/s400/DSCN2777.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Plaça
de Catalunya</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Not to far from the tourism of</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">fice at </span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Plaça
de Catalunya are Las Ramblas, a tree-lined pedestrian mall stretching over a kilometer in length. Vendors selling everything from daily newspapers, birds, flowers, souvenirs, food and art punctuate the strip, and after a few minutes of walking we came to Barcelona's famous covered market, La Boqueria. This extremely crowded and lively venue is host to a wide variety of food products - butchers, fishmongers, fruit and vegetable stands, fresh cheese and eggs, deli meats...you name it, they have it! It's a great place to find a quick, delicious, and cheap lunch. After a quick pita filled with roasted veggies and a glass of fresh-squeezed mango & coconut juice (best thing ever!), I was re-invigorated and ready to do some more exploring!</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9-IXiv6X9zSZNyp6cL07mMqfVv20hz3qLhIo0cUVVYlUew0wMuK-6uoVx-mRoOytyXzTT-5TltF0ZtIBg0gQoY-J50nyDUSKtEQNyvFEJu_uyrN4NhmG9y_2ZmUWJNAgtjZ1cwQqJ3U/s1600/DSCN2780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9-IXiv6X9zSZNyp6cL07mMqfVv20hz3qLhIo0cUVVYlUew0wMuK-6uoVx-mRoOytyXzTT-5TltF0ZtIBg0gQoY-J50nyDUSKtEQNyvFEJu_uyrN4NhmG9y_2ZmUWJNAgtjZ1cwQqJ3U/s400/DSCN2780.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Produce vendors peddling their wares - including delicious juice!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPqwyoQPWBkxuG17uwfenyHATUMjqxAu772tdkLd-4_wwswr9BPIi8_6h7Q-JBE6Z9tJzBgXkOYtzj4H_OeIMvCH5MD7ffRVgTvIUN6-z2UjWkLuk3mHXfzvs1l_jPwLnQU6b0apLLUk/s1600/DSCN2782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPqwyoQPWBkxuG17uwfenyHATUMjqxAu772tdkLd-4_wwswr9BPIi8_6h7Q-JBE6Z9tJzBgXkOYtzj4H_OeIMvCH5MD7ffRVgTvIUN6-z2UjWkLuk3mHXfzvs1l_jPwLnQU6b0apLLUk/s400/DSCN2782.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Artfully displayed figs</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOw6vs18CQInbFIlxtNyjk8RQqtCnC_mNrxgjVgJB0NOUtymuMUVttlNb86B5PCr3-9zbn0LXaSWeLUMuqQioD1BuGzI_EuD4qHejDSmZJk8KACn4xyF1DyEiX8QziEsAH-rp01cBriso/s1600/DSCN2783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOw6vs18CQInbFIlxtNyjk8RQqtCnC_mNrxgjVgJB0NOUtymuMUVttlNb86B5PCr3-9zbn0LXaSWeLUMuqQioD1BuGzI_EuD4qHejDSmZJk8KACn4xyF1DyEiX8QziEsAH-rp01cBriso/s400/DSCN2783.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seafood anyone? Caught fresh daily from the Mediterranean Sea</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb-I7HQgU9S8GiSuxZNsqOnMs8f3hhNK-5rzxWrAOfkxKB6jR_XZ9J0hM5UK40JJUCG-j9j6JZUAEYY8gIpa-5UQrNFbTAX8w2EKNQBAMMSBM7vORCrBbSvh6sNWwWPIQ1X80ty16aUC4/s1600/DSCN2785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb-I7HQgU9S8GiSuxZNsqOnMs8f3hhNK-5rzxWrAOfkxKB6jR_XZ9J0hM5UK40JJUCG-j9j6JZUAEYY8gIpa-5UQrNFbTAX8w2EKNQBAMMSBM7vORCrBbSvh6sNWwWPIQ1X80ty16aUC4/s400/DSCN2785.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ice-cold mango coconut juice: tastiest purchase ever!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">Art history lovers such as myself will know that Barcelona is quite the cultural hub - Spanish architect Antoni <span style="font-family: inherit;">Gaud</span></span>í has left a big mark on the city. Next up: a trip t<span style="font-family: inherit;">o Parc G</span>üell, the tropical park built along the side of El Carmel hill. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7c2Gy9f2l-sDm1xP8zTbgIzH8J58BL9c7MJK7q3sQUkm4eGbXtBgZHyevbgR_7e0uTDLUDgvdijB1V6wnr_T8elddX9qPi53Kltx0__Px_4-5IsRSniEEGNGsItehUe4OqBRn4EULqLY/s1600/antonio+gaudi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7c2Gy9f2l-sDm1xP8zTbgIzH8J58BL9c7MJK7q3sQUkm4eGbXtBgZHyevbgR_7e0uTDLUDgvdijB1V6wnr_T8elddX9qPi53Kltx0__Px_4-5IsRSniEEGNGsItehUe4OqBRn4EULqLY/s400/antonio+gaudi.jpg" width="278" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Antoni Gaud<span style="text-align: start;">í, master Art Nouveau sculptor and architect</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Covering 42 acres with architectural elements by Gaud</span>í, the ensemble is considered to be one of Europe's largest architectural structures and is listed as part of the "Works of Gaudí" UNESCO World Heritage Sites. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSJYwI7veqddXqNTcOIZM-vSFu5dbfrayp0-67WcZng8zxxg4qFI8irs3JUiUNFaNt6qBhWjXaNUzR8s7j-xheedRMpZj9L7mJR17poFX3yY6-CF7TFBmpM1J4oPsB_-eJzmBLcNLbFg/s1600/DSCN2790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSJYwI7veqddXqNTcOIZM-vSFu5dbfrayp0-67WcZng8zxxg4qFI8irs3JUiUNFaNt6qBhWjXaNUzR8s7j-xheedRMpZj9L7mJR17poFX3yY6-CF7TFBmpM1J4oPsB_-eJzmBLcNLbFg/s400/DSCN2790.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tropical foliage along El Carmel hill</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">The park was constructed between 1900 and 1914, focusing around a long, mosaic-covered serpentine bench on the park's main terrace, evoking the form of a sea monster. Interestingly enough, it is rumored that Gaud</span>í got a model to sit in wet clay and used the form of her butt to create the sinuous, super comfortable form of his benches...to each his own?</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGo6S-5LitFbqWX3E9SOTrpEAlZmCS5KgtzCWmOwWVJcVFRLVoLt8cu7FG9R0cocm5PGVo5I8ofbiUEt5t2OcoTFldCLeygMS52bTbfJdUZ9n0XUkn0DXjPI6x4KuQ_17bxdx5tuTbu8s/s1600/DSCN2802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGo6S-5LitFbqWX3E9SOTrpEAlZmCS5KgtzCWmOwWVJcVFRLVoLt8cu7FG9R0cocm5PGVo5I8ofbiUEt5t2OcoTFldCLeygMS52bTbfJdUZ9n0XUkn0DXjPI6x4KuQ_17bxdx5tuTbu8s/s400/DSCN2802.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Enjoying the sunshine on Gaudi's benches</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6IDJYTAwXaFke92xlBsBJAgW87cdMdWuKiR4eP5WMSZHDltFLrch4Rhhfqh1JnpvXTEKG3On5XB_ETxCnCzb9EViRfsnAMTXmsWEObkBlyKUKpk6WXZNHCYk6lSM-qnrY8Th7GibG40k/s1600/2013-10-23+14.14.02_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6IDJYTAwXaFke92xlBsBJAgW87cdMdWuKiR4eP5WMSZHDltFLrch4Rhhfqh1JnpvXTEKG3On5XB_ETxCnCzb9EViRfsnAMTXmsWEObkBlyKUKpk6WXZNHCYk6lSM-qnrY8Th7GibG40k/s400/2013-10-23+14.14.02_stitch.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The park's famous entrance, with a view of the Mediterranean in the background</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Parc G</span>üell's entrance is flanked by two "gingerbread houses" that help to set the whimsical tone for the garden. Gaudí even sculpted the walls which support the terrace in the form of palm trees with specific niches created among them for birds to build nests in. You can't help but notice the shrill squawk and green flashes of the parrots who live in the park as they fly from palm tree to palm tree!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQnqjZTPMJuAasjqerx_SRbgzT9w30YTN2wd0uv0E64ipxHh_5DoWh6AiE1EZYACSJx9NKo8jwlZVctzNdg6xoefjKwgV3A9Z9nsqqI1FT-9rUHxiSQlw70q-AUoMdO8Pun6kS6JXC1U/s1600/DSCN2799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQnqjZTPMJuAasjqerx_SRbgzT9w30YTN2wd0uv0E64ipxHh_5DoWh6AiE1EZYACSJx9NKo8jwlZVctzNdg6xoefjKwgV3A9Z9nsqqI1FT-9rUHxiSQlw70q-AUoMdO8Pun6kS6JXC1U/s400/DSCN2799.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Palm trees and parrots!</span></td></tr>
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We climbed up to the park's highest point to get an amazing view of the city, but in order to do that we had to scale a rather frightening rock formation. The steps rotated around the outside of this cylindrical monument and couldn't have been more than 8 inches wide, with no railing and imminent broken legs awaiting you if you happened to slip off the side. The 6 foot square platform at the top with 20 tourists crammed together (again, with no railing) was even more sketchy, but the views were worth it! (Refer to the panorama near the beginning of the Barcelona section of this post!) After snapping a few quick photos we hastily made our way back down to the ground.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNNLVDRtAbhJNhfVndh4nsgP1ZvH9b8pfsjw_P1O71sf1gLZPWOnbXHjWmq4_8B41_OfPTeXxA8U0bCaQSMA82JBahLMG9jFgBQ9KInv8D-AGXrHMM35Qa7AjWEnJ5csLgnOW2NjY3S8w/s1600/DSCN2792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNNLVDRtAbhJNhfVndh4nsgP1ZvH9b8pfsjw_P1O71sf1gLZPWOnbXHjWmq4_8B41_OfPTeXxA8U0bCaQSMA82JBahLMG9jFgBQ9KInv8D-AGXrHMM35Qa7AjWEnJ5csLgnOW2NjY3S8w/s400/DSCN2792.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">View from the top!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxBul3cHby6obU7QmPIlxaLKo43JloRWX_8Hbwj4_IfYrHXz-1tT0wgni8R2OOQTyG9c82VwniM6gXsGuWCRxR6Cf5QnhloH5OsuTe97cycDRhbtZIUXFTyFrZ-5sbgGnIPB6Xr_lpBg/s1600/DSCN2796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxBul3cHby6obU7QmPIlxaLKo43JloRWX_8Hbwj4_IfYrHXz-1tT0wgni8R2OOQTyG9c82VwniM6gXsGuWCRxR6Cf5QnhloH5OsuTe97cycDRhbtZIUXFTyFrZ-5sbgGnIPB6Xr_lpBg/s400/DSCN2796.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just a little windy up here!</span></td></tr>
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Our last major stop before heading back to Girona for the night was the infamous Sagrada Familia basilica. Another masterpiece by Gaudí, construction on the church began in 1882, combining traditional Gothic architecture with the newly emerging curvilinear forms of the Art Nouveau style. Only a quarter of the project was realized during Gaudí's lifetime, and as its construction relies solely on private donations, progress has been anything but quick. When rebutting criticism about the painfully slow headway being made on the building, Gaudí supposedly remarked "My client [God] is not in a hurry." Recent estimates propose a date of completion somewhere around the year 2036...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsKJTK1JBlSk2Cs-HDyVkTnh2aNqeE3o1bFr9wSjWk_WEkmqAbW56EltXw1NN0x5sfJrXK1XMIhDX-9AB_OUWHIebpdv49RWRKmiIXCaSnAP4fPohtJcpD9QgafCDrcGoCiJW4JWjsyfU/s1600/DSCN2813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsKJTK1JBlSk2Cs-HDyVkTnh2aNqeE3o1bFr9wSjWk_WEkmqAbW56EltXw1NN0x5sfJrXK1XMIhDX-9AB_OUWHIebpdv49RWRKmiIXCaSnAP4fPohtJcpD9QgafCDrcGoCiJW4JWjsyfU/s400/DSCN2813.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sagrada Familia</span></td></tr>
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Three façades for the church were originally planned: the Nativity, the Passion, and the Glory (which has yet to be realized). The oldest side of the church is the one sheltering the Nativity, whose construction has been the most directly influenced by the hand of Gaudí, while the Passion side is more recent and had to be based off of the few remnants of plans left behind by the architect which survived the Spanish Civil War and attacks by Catalunyan anarchists. The Passion façade is the most famous and is distinguished by its melted wedding cake appearance. Newer additions to the church are easily spotted due to their fresher, brighter, non-weathered appearance, as opposed to the darker polluted-looking stone of the older constructions.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhThpHo-UdCYRNXSi7dn9FWgo9ALMsovGUTl9Qj2IMj58f8Ay_FvWN8khzXN3mbvR1tGjLYQdNQLxrs-CRKWD2kCODHBCHwwVMYyQvGRub60d413FMByhmsYBU5A4_B1cnZbiQAmd75Uec/s1600/DSCN2815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhThpHo-UdCYRNXSi7dn9FWgo9ALMsovGUTl9Qj2IMj58f8Ay_FvWN8khzXN3mbvR1tGjLYQdNQLxrs-CRKWD2kCODHBCHwwVMYyQvGRub60d413FMByhmsYBU5A4_B1cnZbiQAmd75Uec/s400/DSCN2815.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Nativity fa<span style="text-align: justify;">çade</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxKbD1rrubO8t5AHYzdOK8lkquWcz8bq4eAxLdQPPjCQ-CXbwApmsA_wkZ9Sigqp_BNuMfx4DBo4kHteNDscxwzp_8NzBiDaqLb1YhloBAPa3ShP2TKglohallFmei6JVS-V4dBCAZQU/s1600/DSCN2807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxKbD1rrubO8t5AHYzdOK8lkquWcz8bq4eAxLdQPPjCQ-CXbwApmsA_wkZ9Sigqp_BNuMfx4DBo4kHteNDscxwzp_8NzBiDaqLb1YhloBAPa3ShP2TKglohallFmei6JVS-V4dBCAZQU/s400/DSCN2807.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Passion Fa<span style="text-align: justify;">çade, ever under construction</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9VwAchEz4JpUkjk5a9xx74Esh6Q4Tq-6AhvMnYEmHNrR53Cp5YChlD5UYUvmPhSbz1_kMz94_GcHdeGyuoxoyvY32HrnieYr5guGa6ShEYH9uTUPlLDX4X5aUq094Mvfc8qJfyw_Uk4/s1600/DSCN2808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9VwAchEz4JpUkjk5a9xx74Esh6Q4Tq-6AhvMnYEmHNrR53Cp5YChlD5UYUvmPhSbz1_kMz94_GcHdeGyuoxoyvY32HrnieYr5guGa6ShEYH9uTUPlLDX4X5aUq094Mvfc8qJfyw_Uk4/s400/DSCN2808.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Details from the Passion Fa<span style="text-align: justify;">çade</span></span></td></tr>
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Eric, Kasey and I were content with just viewing the exterior of the church - the 2<span style="font-family: inherit;">1.50€ entrance fee seemed a little steep, especially to see a building that's not even done being built yet. That being said, I can appreciate that the admission fees go towards the continued construction of the church, but I think I'll save that expense for a future visit. Here's a peek at what the ceiling inside looks like...</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFBxbji4As4y-VY4RE7VClJWn6IJakVZ88qgFpaYuZF-sPIS6qgx2vKKbUZ7b1LLfHS_2dKsWITiYxqtKOA39rnif4qXO16z89XCjoiB9chEwtBllJTeOrXnAoc3CkX5VWYi8hEqzuOk/s1600/Sagrada_Familia_nave_roof_detail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFBxbji4As4y-VY4RE7VClJWn6IJakVZ88qgFpaYuZF-sPIS6qgx2vKKbUZ7b1LLfHS_2dKsWITiYxqtKOA39rnif4qXO16z89XCjoiB9chEwtBllJTeOrXnAoc3CkX5VWYi8hEqzuOk/s400/Sagrada_Familia_nave_roof_detail.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Designed by Gaudi, the pillars are meant to echo tree trunks reaching high up to the forest canopy</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Aside from a little souvenir shopping, that pretty much wrapped up our day trip to Barcelona. Although it was a last-minute decision to go, I'm really happy we went and would love to make a return visit someday as the city has lots more to offer - the Olympic Stadium and Village, numerous museums, a beach along the Mediterranean...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCytmbl83C9WQXAdH0Jlg-AEpwxLPSCFVID4j8QeeVz_uhLYVgpZ29ntk-MjpIdFKIoE2VQ4pDkMMT4ItgGSBIW028xk61FTBJzpTNU9ULO1_6_SBrxeTivtHoB3oz-ThCpuIk3aa5B4/s1600/DSCN2827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCytmbl83C9WQXAdH0Jlg-AEpwxLPSCFVID4j8QeeVz_uhLYVgpZ29ntk-MjpIdFKIoE2VQ4pDkMMT4ItgGSBIW028xk61FTBJzpTNU9ULO1_6_SBrxeTivtHoB3oz-ThCpuIk3aa5B4/s400/DSCN2827.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">One of Girona's many narrow cobblestone streets</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After our train back to Girona, we were in search of a traditional Spanish tapas restaurant for dinner and asked the receptionist at our hostel for suggestions. She referred us to her favorite place, El Didal ("The Thimble," in Catalan), tucked away on a cobblestone street behind the city's cathedral. We scored a great table outside on the terrace and enjoyed a pitcher of sangria and quite the spread of tapas, which are small plates of appetizers to share, including <i>patatas bravas</i> (fried potato cubes with spicy aioli sauce), calamari fresh from the Mediterranean with a drizzle of lemon juice, puff pastries bursting with scallops and asparagus, biscuits topped with slices of <i>chorizo, </i>the list goes on...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUclSjPoYLqEauZefj5dRgQqHqlvp3VV4aPLNFNZieoTkQTHJGw45OYxHsnJzo8-yO8YiZx70gxbB4YB_inQCTvsToWl-InoiNJHwz-iHLQ42H75itJNGCHuuvw931rkteAbcmOnAQM8I/s1600/el+didal+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUclSjPoYLqEauZefj5dRgQqHqlvp3VV4aPLNFNZieoTkQTHJGw45OYxHsnJzo8-yO8YiZx70gxbB4YB_inQCTvsToWl-InoiNJHwz-iHLQ42H75itJNGCHuuvw931rkteAbcmOnAQM8I/s320/el+didal+logo.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was all going so well until a bizarre encounter with a woman we thought was our waitress landed us inside the restaurant-turned-sex-shop, where we found ourselves being painted with erotic chocolate sauce, covered in edible fairy dust, tickled with feathers and being playfully whipped...in front of other diners...while they were trying to enjoy their dinner. Needless to say it was an awkward and bizarre, yet hilarious encounter and will live in infamy as one of our unforgettable memories of Spain!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOhWhqr45r7-IGjdxqgxvOZJdfy7IZUSjqxS2WJxzofX3CUl7Hy8Gfgo0wI2iIojLKjYGbTDLjxukYPPbH3GtbXw2HdvfuEvPcwlsGTYVR6NwcJ_7GL6OfRLY0NMKSVCF84AKKYw1V9Q/s1600/DSCN2826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOhWhqr45r7-IGjdxqgxvOZJdfy7IZUSjqxS2WJxzofX3CUl7Hy8Gfgo0wI2iIojLKjYGbTDLjxukYPPbH3GtbXw2HdvfuEvPcwlsGTYVR6NwcJ_7GL6OfRLY0NMKSVCF84AKKYw1V9Q/s400/DSCN2826.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">La catedral de Girona</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once again, we had amazing weather for our last day in Girona - we took full advantage of the warm, sunny day to explore the city a little better before our evening train back to France. Situated at the confluence of 4 rivers - the Ter, Onyar, Galligants and Güell - Girona is home to the gorgeous <i>cases de l'Onyar, </i>"river houses," reminding me slightly of Florence. Their warm, typically Spanish colors give the city a vibrant hue that contrasts brilliantly against the blue sky and its reflection off the rivers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">River houses over the Onyar</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzkcGUC8WqLEo396Y7otbU2a1T2T7j9blAHeGySMx998po6MXByeDRJwWOdVH7N9bEo-F6Xy6jPbBxOqNSR0nxcCSNYs45uRz3CNl7VTZYhAy6suQwUYvNE3ABBrvdGx6zzEKFpdUAMdA/s1600/DSCN2825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzkcGUC8WqLEo396Y7otbU2a1T2T7j9blAHeGySMx998po6MXByeDRJwWOdVH7N9bEo-F6Xy6jPbBxOqNSR0nxcCSNYs45uRz3CNl7VTZYhAy6suQwUYvNE3ABBrvdGx6zzEKFpdUAMdA/s400/DSCN2825.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">More <i>cases</i> and the city's Cathedral</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Girona's old city is surrounded by fortifications originally erected in the 1st century BC by the Romans to protect the settlement from invaders. Rebuilt again in the 14th century, the walls and guard towers still stand today, and visitors can walk along the top to get some excellent panoramic views of Girona - so of course we did just that!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgT9JSI8n0nI7m52ceLl4V7BXxY5G7_9H5xh2ubqYkEMn24u1NDLFAw5op9eYee02QUIkF0zQNKDapbQ3oh5AQPks1c0fm2MHVF_TX4lDxGC6450vquQt44Ms1EWg6izqm1kBiphBVS8/s1600/DSCN2831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgT9JSI8n0nI7m52ceLl4V7BXxY5G7_9H5xh2ubqYkEMn24u1NDLFAw5op9eYee02QUIkF0zQNKDapbQ3oh5AQPks1c0fm2MHVF_TX4lDxGC6450vquQt44Ms1EWg6izqm1kBiphBVS8/s400/DSCN2831.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The Great Wall of...Girona?</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Speaking of panoramic views...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGaKC0MvNAtBNSHv-YRU9t3CFxmOIeh7kL4D8ZC8rg8ZhWIVgPM90RuQHNmdxDazPGrfUKgTdQCfktH7-WfjmrYuojaFPkbt0KEjx8lwsZoRKnTl3b_KEcjnPEACRZSatjYhlHpLcxvF0/s1600/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGaKC0MvNAtBNSHv-YRU9t3CFxmOIeh7kL4D8ZC8rg8ZhWIVgPM90RuQHNmdxDazPGrfUKgTdQCfktH7-WfjmrYuojaFPkbt0KEjx8lwsZoRKnTl3b_KEcjnPEACRZSatjYhlHpLcxvF0/s640/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Looking into the city of Girona</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg3nKNM6iZKVZUwaqcLvFXzxehaTjUV-qWLtFiRXHo9E_7NsykZyqDWf0yXtFBFehJos2AtPcxqKqNIM5O1_Cf5RDnAssi3tYW5Lfk0UKIk6bjEvkSb0RpC9S6VD0E46jO8gDRWKQ5ClE/s1600/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg3nKNM6iZKVZUwaqcLvFXzxehaTjUV-qWLtFiRXHo9E_7NsykZyqDWf0yXtFBFehJos2AtPcxqKqNIM5O1_Cf5RDnAssi3tYW5Lfk0UKIk6bjEvkSb0RpC9S6VD0E46jO8gDRWKQ5ClE/s640/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Looking away from the city into the Spanish countryside</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The views from the fortifications are simply breath-taking. Clear blue skies stretch above the city and back to the Pyrenees as far as the eye can see. And when looking over the back side of the wall, the viewer is afforded an unrestricted view of the wild, cactus-covered countryside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYzdqjN5UJYkN7QFRyw3wpzcJjlFQoPyer_UCLEKf4wR3bvLlFxcMun2DB_ynZyKcoHoUOmUNTJ46CtNexICWIiCpyFIQ-k-Nn0bdiEiovOdUeOBGxYPz4GxKEw2aVIf7uKwRVww0eug/s1600/DSCN2832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYzdqjN5UJYkN7QFRyw3wpzcJjlFQoPyer_UCLEKf4wR3bvLlFxcMun2DB_ynZyKcoHoUOmUNTJ46CtNexICWIiCpyFIQ-k-Nn0bdiEiovOdUeOBGxYPz4GxKEw2aVIf7uKwRVww0eug/s400/DSCN2832.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Soaking up the sunshine high atop a look-out tower</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm_uNQDZT9hdRW2rYABnqxeMAOzAXrRjVgBb2dAEAuDj8QbYME6vFea8j2e20c-yTf79Ju2Gd_qDF019OULD7xEPl35bOa0SK94UDUeBquN5gFo4jykiBNURvbbxp9iLoUl5b8u0R7i4/s1600/DSCN2830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm_uNQDZT9hdRW2rYABnqxeMAOzAXrRjVgBb2dAEAuDj8QbYME6vFea8j2e20c-yTf79Ju2Gd_qDF019OULD7xEPl35bOa0SK94UDUeBquN5gFo4jykiBNURvbbxp9iLoUl5b8u0R7i4/s400/DSCN2830.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">So many cacti!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrF4zebS_B26jr11AvnhByhAG_h6Mtd1BccfoDSsTGxY-XGjKFJdLRYeI1lRuaBqod2kQSYuoSbfErm-17Knbc4oC66V-mY5Uk8R4zJ17JN4qnlnpxvvsVY4uxg5ZsKIlccx0l24i2tk/s1600/DSCN2837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrF4zebS_B26jr11AvnhByhAG_h6Mtd1BccfoDSsTGxY-XGjKFJdLRYeI1lRuaBqod2kQSYuoSbfErm-17Knbc4oC66V-mY5Uk8R4zJ17JN4qnlnpxvvsVY4uxg5ZsKIlccx0l24i2tk/s400/DSCN2837.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">"The three best friends that anyone could have..."</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKMIdsf0uwfKRScnn4aotTBS7uiLJC8Ylnq73SVJUE7OnUVysWo9WwdTGp179tmq88U7UvJJbymjPJLJ1idC_cXR9VyX56zC-OvQQ_JpQiFz2o-CqLM8t-W3XL8DBbk4MknGx3LJv1_E/s1600/DSCN2841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKMIdsf0uwfKRScnn4aotTBS7uiLJC8Ylnq73SVJUE7OnUVysWo9WwdTGp179tmq88U7UvJJbymjPJLJ1idC_cXR9VyX56zC-OvQQ_JpQiFz2o-CqLM8t-W3XL8DBbk4MknGx3LJv1_E/s400/DSCN2841.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Pretty flowers!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJAtDnUTlDf_C7zyeHR0yyo_FPsItLU6CsBz8Gw1x1XvdDQxDazM_pLyaa6p6ekSyV9xHnkwx6rgfR_4E_idX4spyccrD2uvSv9ILSiqYGseZyCbjsC6jHOziDmAIyu95X4K3XFGFHNQ/s1600/DSCN2843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJAtDnUTlDf_C7zyeHR0yyo_FPsItLU6CsBz8Gw1x1XvdDQxDazM_pLyaa6p6ekSyV9xHnkwx6rgfR_4E_idX4spyccrD2uvSv9ILSiqYGseZyCbjsC6jHOziDmAIyu95X4K3XFGFHNQ/s400/DSCN2843.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Eric and Kasey on the Wall</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-nqj_xg1ydYm9TZz-cgFfbjmSydnZ3VHBKUgPtVaGR_KDp7LYUA-alOGI1BPMoRhMeNo_BitncjBVNu5cpd9m2dR2ZM0-T2d95UzmGAqXiTeYkB2fb7L1ATMHy5Bk-2KC6T_SNczCrs/s1600/DSCN2844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-nqj_xg1ydYm9TZz-cgFfbjmSydnZ3VHBKUgPtVaGR_KDp7LYUA-alOGI1BPMoRhMeNo_BitncjBVNu5cpd9m2dR2ZM0-T2d95UzmGAqXiTeYkB2fb7L1ATMHy5Bk-2KC6T_SNczCrs/s400/DSCN2844.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Omnipresent Catalunyan flags display strong regional pride</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Next stop: Nîmes! Later that night we boarded our umpteenth train en route back to France. Eric had invited us to stay at his place in Nîmes, located in southern France, as our travels into Spain had brought us down that way anyways. A settlement known as Nemausus during Roman times, Nîmes was founded by Julius Caesar as a colony for retired veterans - though archaeological studies have shown that communities had already formed in the area beginning around 4000 BC. After serving as a soldier for 15 years during Caesar's military campaigns along the Nile in Egypt, he gave his veterans parcels of land to cultivate here beside the Via Domitia, a Roman road linking Italy and Spain. <span style="line-height: 20px;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-Uw9pQwNFOTZ1bOxvGkpq0LDACtiOue_V9_NbLmnUH6U_xaY4d01gZB0lbX7B-tW4knghb9MGTop6M4XuOh8CZsQmLZEnA36aBb6OsEKqkvZPMRMPsbNdDijrdYFc-Lne3dH1ZbrbP4/s1600/seal+of+nimes.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-Uw9pQwNFOTZ1bOxvGkpq0LDACtiOue_V9_NbLmnUH6U_xaY4d01gZB0lbX7B-tW4knghb9MGTop6M4XuOh8CZsQmLZEnA36aBb6OsEKqkvZPMRMPsbNdDijrdYFc-Lne3dH1ZbrbP4/s400/seal+of+nimes.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The seal of N<span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">îmes depicts a crocodile chained to a palm tree, representative of the Roman Emperor Augustus' victory over Marc Antony and Cleopatra's fleet on the Nile in 31 BC</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was fortunate enough to have made a brief visit to Nîmes back in 2008 during a vacation through France, visiting the nearby Pont du Gard aqueduct and quickly passing through the city, but I was elated to have a second chance to discover the city more deeply, as I had closely studied its cultural and historical facets in various art history classes during college. It always feels good to put what you learned to good use!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">At Pont du Gard (2008)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Eric lives in a house with a woman and her 12 year-old son, and upon arriving at their home I was very excited to discover that they had a cat! Although it might sound strange at first, sometimes I miss my pets more than people at home - at least you can call/text/Skype with the people you miss, but try as I might to train my cats to be tech-savvy, I don't really have a way to connect with them when I'm thousands of miles from home! Needless to say, the cat at Eric's house (who doesn't have a name) got lots of attention from me during our stay!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">My cute little furry friend at Eric's</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Equally exciting, we had a gourmet lunch of <i>moules-frites</i> (mussels & fries) with some top-notch scenery - les Arènes de Nîmes! I developed a love for mussels during my travels through France, and when they're steamed in a mix of white wine, cream, onions and garlic, you can't really go wrong. Top it all off with a heaping plate of salty french fries and you've got yourself a delicious meal. <span style="line-height: 20px;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Kasey and I, eager to dig in to our steaming pots of mussels</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVJr-kiZFpys6tO9jkkehyphenhyphenGaorp6-O8lpa3FfTrGF_JfS3WE6shoibzbE_yhDRN1hPhI077y_XKnzsJXBWRwK5br0Or_drB_phwAbRpX3CNT9OlgiJNAb00S0Hin_0Kl25ZoWHMIP1cM/s1600/DSCN2849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVJr-kiZFpys6tO9jkkehyphenhyphenGaorp6-O8lpa3FfTrGF_JfS3WE6shoibzbE_yhDRN1hPhI077y_XKnzsJXBWRwK5br0Or_drB_phwAbRpX3CNT9OlgiJNAb00S0Hin_0Kl25ZoWHMIP1cM/s400/DSCN2849.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Mussels so fresh from the sea we found seashells and seaweed in our pots</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After stuffing ourselves with seafood, we headed across the street to take a tour of les Arènes. Constructed by the Romans in 70 AD, the amphitheater encloses an elliptical space 435 feet long by 330 feet wide, capable of holding a staggering 16,300 spectators. And while much larger Roman arenas still stand, the one here in Nîmes is considered to be the best preserved of them all. In Roman times the space hosted everything from gladiatorial battles to public executions, serving as one of the city's major entertainment venues. The arena is still used today, although the modern spectacles held here (concerts, bullfights, and other public events) are slightly less gruesome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Les Ar</span><span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">ènes de N</span><span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">îmes</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9OUG01j2Zgxynj1g78ZmpDLXEL65iJkES7tumXp96j29UlZBgwqFCon7zvnYrsXpVTfRuMr2dbqU5Z-6Vv2ZM0fG9qePvTZ3ITomTEIJadGKdTDYzg1soTip2YdRssWI-1XP6GuU7mz8/s1600/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9OUG01j2Zgxynj1g78ZmpDLXEL65iJkES7tumXp96j29UlZBgwqFCon7zvnYrsXpVTfRuMr2dbqU5Z-6Vv2ZM0fG9qePvTZ3ITomTEIJadGKdTDYzg1soTip2YdRssWI-1XP6GuU7mz8/s640/DSCN0001_stitch.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Inside the amphitheater</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We were on a Roman ruins kick, so we headed over to Les Jardins de la Fontaine to check out La Tour Magne, the sole remains of the ancient Augustan fortifications that once surrounded Nîmes. What a view from the top!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">La Tour Magne</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgracTmtlZErYEc5UPbCms6oj6HDvRDNR0sKoTSUmwY4bcJdh2WdE9T9jr77PKqmv8O6FDRN6GsR4ORJPq4qDdlTZS-_Bv4n-IYUVYViLGfFCWuLGDiBHrKKRplSD4M6u1gwOu5OSzm8/s1600/DSCN2864_stitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgracTmtlZErYEc5UPbCms6oj6HDvRDNR0sKoTSUmwY4bcJdh2WdE9T9jr77PKqmv8O6FDRN6GsR4ORJPq4qDdlTZS-_Bv4n-IYUVYViLGfFCWuLGDiBHrKKRplSD4M6u1gwOu5OSzm8/s640/DSCN2864_stitch.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Hello <span style="line-height: 17px;">N</span><span style="line-height: 17px;">îmes!</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Also inside the Jardins de la Fontaine are remnants of the mysterious Roman Temple of Diana. Not much is known about its function or the origin of its name, though some say it once served as the Roman town library. Regardless, it is quite well-preserved and features intricate architectural carvings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Le Temple de Diane</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We went over to Eric's friend's apartment that night, and for some reason the three of us serendipitously changed into matching outfits. Normally, we would never leave the house looking this ridiculous, but we thought it was pretty funny so we just went with it - and got a few strange looks and comments from passersby along the way!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">"Are you all going to a color party?"</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The last thing left on my list of "Things to See in Nîmes" was La Maison Carrée (literally "The Square House"). Constructed in 16 BC under Agrippa and dedicated to his two sons (who became the adopted sons of the Emperor Augustus), this building draws on the temples of Apollo and Mars Ultor located in Rome and is the best-preserved temple found anywhere in the territory of the former Roman Empire. The Maison Carrée has served many functions throughout the centuries, acting as a stable, church, consular house and even an apartment. Today, visitors can enter the structure's small interior space (formerly home to a shrine) to view a 3D film about the history of Nîmes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">La Maison Carr<span style="line-height: 17px; text-align: start;">ée</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The deep front porch, or <i>pronaos, </i>is nearly a third the length of the building, and the intricately sculpted Corinthian columns bring a regal air to the structure. Newly restored, the Maison Carr</span>é<span style="font-family: inherit;">e's bright and gleaming stonework certainly steals the spotlight.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="line-height: 20px;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Above the columns, holes for pegs which held bronze letters forming the building's inscription are visible. Deciphered in 1758, the inscription is said to have read (in translation) "To Gaius Caesar, son of Augustus, Consul; To Lucius Caesar, son of Augustus, Consul designate; to the Princes of Youth."</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was time to say good-bye to Nîmes and head back to Paris to spend our last couple day of vacation in the City of Light. After all of our adventures in new places, it was nice to be back "at home" in a city with which you're very familiar and don't need to rely on a map to find your way around. Eric and I got to spend a couple nights with Kasey in her apartment, and then headed back to our former host family's house to stay there for our last two nights. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">H<span lang="FR" style="line-height: 17px;">ô</span>tel de Ville in Paris</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">[At the risk of sounding like a Parisian snob, I'll say that I didn't do very much that was noteworthy in Paris...ate falafel at my favorite restaurant, went to a movie, strolled down the Champs-Elysées, went to a couple parks, walked around by the Eiffel Tower, the usual...] Although Eric and I did go to the Parc aux Buttes Chaumont, a peaceful park in the 19th arrondissement which I had never been to before, and I played tour guide for one of Kasey's friends from home who was visiting one day while she was at work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As much as I love to travel, after living out of a suitcase for 13 days and taking a total of 14 trains (never mind the countless journeys on various metros and buses), I was exhausted and couldn't have been happier to return to the sleepy little town of Forbach and finally sleep in my own bed again! I got back on Halloween, and tired as I was, I still mustered up enough energy to carve the pumpkin I had bought before vacation - I couldn't totally skip over Halloween!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">Cimiti</span><span lang="FR" style="line-height: 17px;">ère de Montparnasse right before Halloween & La Toussaint (All Saint's Day)</span><span style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Happy Halloween!<span style="line-height: 17px;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My next vacation's not until Christmastime, but I can't wait to find out where my travels will take me then!</span></div>
Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-54455626445247963872013-11-02T12:14:00.002-04:002013-11-02T12:14:32.342-04:00La Toussaint - Part 1<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So after a 2 week whirlwind tour of southwestern France and northern Spain, I finally made it back to Forbach to spend the last weekend of my break catching up on laundry and lesson plans! While I'm sad my vacation's almost over, I've pretty much had my fill of train travel and living out of a suitcase for now and was very happy to be able to finally sleep in my own bed last night. Here's a peek at what I've been up to over the last <i>quinze jours</i> (literally "15 days" in French, but it means "2 weeks"...) - check out <a href="https://mapsengine.google.com/map/edit?mid=zEnM-sPf-W20.kXmShvuoOTKE"><span style="color: blue;">this</span></a> Google Map I created to help you visualize where I've traveled!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Leg 1: Forbach to Paris</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After finishing up work on Friday, October 18, I caught an evening train (train #1) up to Paris and spent the night at Kasey's apartment so we'd be ready to leave early the next morning on a train to Toulouse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Leg 2: Paris to Toulouse (with a day trip to Bordeaux & Saint-Emilion!)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leaving early Saturday morning from Gare d'Austerlitz in Paris, Kasey and I hopped on a train (#2) for a rather long 6 hour trek down to Toulouse (nicknamed <i>La Ville Rose</i>, "the pink city", due to the vast amount of brickwork found here), where we'd spend 3 nights. We arrived around 2:30 pm and met up with Eric in the train station there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We grabbed some quick crêpes for lunch and then set out to explore the city. As the fourth largest metropolitan area in France (after Paris, Lyon and Marseille), the city was very lively and had lots of shopping, restaurants, bars, and cultural attractions to offer. There's a big student population there, so it was nice to be in a city which caters to younger clientele. I was excited to check out the basilica of St-Sernin, a Romanesque church dating from the 12th century which was a popular stop along the famous Catholic pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. A church that I had studied in my Medieval Art & Architecture class during college, St-Sernin is an incredibly large church featuring numerous barrel arches and the thick, heavy walls and pillars so characteristic of Romanesque architecture. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The Basilica of St-Sernin</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Looking down the vaulted nave at St-Sernin</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Stylized Romanesque frescoes cover the church's walls</span></td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Strolling through Place du Capitole, we bumped into our friend and former Sweet Briar in Paris classmate Yahaira, who is working as an English teaching assistant in Albi (not far from Toulouse) - she had planned to be in the city while we were there so we could all catch up! It was great to see yet another familiar face in our faraway land. The four of us headed over to the Galeries Lafayette, a large department store, to see the city from the rooftop observation deck - what a beautiful sight.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">At Place du Capitole</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">On the roof of Galeries Lafayette</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Rooftop view of Toulouse</span></td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The inner children in us couldn't resist a quick ride on the 18th century merry-go-round in the middle of a little park we saw while roaming the city, so we had a good laugh as we did a couple laps on our horses!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Patiently waiting our turn!</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1t6Hr4WG2Zqju_3xVLvBdRwh322qvHf4k8o-euV00dYcLKkIxKB3J-Bzh6f4jx1MHAN56kgTVKTU0nbSdDy8U19_YGQ8z40uzvdlF-js01YXNPK5cj_RhtTrQW1bFAZriX0pmn6wa4k/s1600/DSCN2651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1t6Hr4WG2Zqju_3xVLvBdRwh322qvHf4k8o-euV00dYcLKkIxKB3J-Bzh6f4jx1MHAN56kgTVKTU0nbSdDy8U19_YGQ8z40uzvdlF-js01YXNPK5cj_RhtTrQW1bFAZriX0pmn6wa4k/s400/DSCN2651.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ltc5xO0nF_GQ_YVlhkbiuumzZva9LQduSrD_MGIcyXayuAJuP2s1ZOXAhiuhftNVuf5yjB4qF6UnWlQXMwHeTpv8o6j3AujGS4k80JEFT8wJ4Eko65XIehTtwtnIlWe8JOC_P6zA1iA/s1600/DSCN2653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ltc5xO0nF_GQ_YVlhkbiuumzZva9LQduSrD_MGIcyXayuAJuP2s1ZOXAhiuhftNVuf5yjB4qF6UnWlQXMwHeTpv8o6j3AujGS4k80JEFT8wJ4Eko65XIehTtwtnIlWe8JOC_P6zA1iA/s400/DSCN2653.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And as Toulouse is a vibrant student center, we had to check out the nightlife! One of Kasey's friends from college, Pat, is living in Toulouse and training to be an ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher, so we met up with him for Happy Hour and a delicious Italian dinner (I had duck confit ravioli in a marsala wine sauce - mmm!) before hitting the town for the night.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOtnpK1OH188uHRqHYX4wU9s_Ca7dPgg4X_0u2MN9igSt_ApsmBeub4sRYD1hkbZF7DZaM1EHCIq9-lw5YBr9LzAG2mTs5_AfS-GxH8OYqZJN820HnljTCjvh1_mmAlsYG95bUL4WeVM/s1600/DSCN2658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOtnpK1OH188uHRqHYX4wU9s_Ca7dPgg4X_0u2MN9igSt_ApsmBeub4sRYD1hkbZF7DZaM1EHCIq9-lw5YBr9LzAG2mTs5_AfS-GxH8OYqZJN820HnljTCjvh1_mmAlsYG95bUL4WeVM/s400/DSCN2658.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy Hour! 1,90</span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: small;">€</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"> for a glass of wine - I'll take it!</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLv50-VFZY7p8zxZhYE_e98CZ-qVR9qqu1MrjC4ngkjgrEyvZyjo-PR8Fvl_otjzuf65uAK0_f-WvElyA7E5Vh8lnSwV0gc-JmpiBtSlFPVd53z3mKbEWDdX3skCO5y8dTcOHrLdk3t10/s1600/DSCN2659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLv50-VFZY7p8zxZhYE_e98CZ-qVR9qqu1MrjC4ngkjgrEyvZyjo-PR8Fvl_otjzuf65uAK0_f-WvElyA7E5Vh8lnSwV0gc-JmpiBtSlFPVd53z3mKbEWDdX3skCO5y8dTcOHrLdk3t10/s400/DSCN2659.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Kasey and her friend Pat</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLRTBNz85UnPv7OY_HTbT6ofoz2xaiqbSJeKxM12ojGJlgE6KIbysC3TLgQtbxLk9rouvjHGu_5YM8Lka3xwzLQjfcOVAwSXd6OfamZcQurc34NvxSUPwJ13mtNc6Tjo45pHVAiuox27g/s1600/DSCN2660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLRTBNz85UnPv7OY_HTbT6ofoz2xaiqbSJeKxM12ojGJlgE6KIbysC3TLgQtbxLk9rouvjHGu_5YM8Lka3xwzLQjfcOVAwSXd6OfamZcQurc34NvxSUPwJ13mtNc6Tjo45pHVAiuox27g/s400/DSCN2660.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Yahaira, Kasey, Eric and I enjoying the nightlife at Place St-Pierre</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Early the next morning, Eric, Yahaira, Kasey and I boarded yet another train (#3) for the city of Bordeaux. A little over 2 hours from Toulouse, Bordeaux is in a region lauded for its exceptional wine production - what better way to experience a place than to taste it? We booked a 5 hour wine tour through the Office de Tourisme in Bordeaux for 33€ which included coach bus transportation to and from the medieval village of St-Emilion, a tour of the town's underground monuments (a monolithic church and its catacombs), and a visit to the winery of Château Laniote. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">With a little time to kill before our tour started, we did some exploring in Bordeaux, wandering its grand marble-paved streets and admiring its many monuments, including Place des Quinconces, the largest square in Europe.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNdfjQEEDX8ViQx9RfRhW-MRaRrpK5b0RU7sGF6bjmvbwS9QCb-_W3zEAn0q_rd1CH1Y301yeoXuOXNjSvoHQ5dY-zGP_CXRhn2duBnI53S9kdxMsXrHmcWiDgHUiwEq4GIQRPSdCqYA/s1600/DSCN2666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNdfjQEEDX8ViQx9RfRhW-MRaRrpK5b0RU7sGF6bjmvbwS9QCb-_W3zEAn0q_rd1CH1Y301yeoXuOXNjSvoHQ5dY-zGP_CXRhn2duBnI53S9kdxMsXrHmcWiDgHUiwEq4GIQRPSdCqYA/s400/DSCN2666.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Porte d'Aquitaine, the ancient toll booth at the entrance to the city center, dating from the 18th century</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKy4iR55WX1AHsYJfJwctb6swXQYa3TBXgbocwP6pW184z6Xo-isH0j_ZAZRjCk6qL-pUU-7cRRnuTI2kR2yNODFMaZCZQeQxFCliR774UIRKNnXiLqu4LUWbSrPbkQ1g46OwYbT65Rs/s1600/DSCN2672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKy4iR55WX1AHsYJfJwctb6swXQYa3TBXgbocwP6pW184z6Xo-isH0j_ZAZRjCk6qL-pUU-7cRRnuTI2kR2yNODFMaZCZQeQxFCliR774UIRKNnXiLqu4LUWbSrPbkQ1g46OwYbT65Rs/s400/DSCN2672.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Place de la Com<span style="line-height: 107%;">édie</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLunBbYN7ZzmBT7hLyr-u4uQDcaLo0qrKRYFWUk41Za-9sOgAE70tcFE2wn93RS1h9vVNI3yCQx1WLI4xgiXWoPpo2sAkfgZbLx1d37Ojco7g2wUI-WfXyr02rqMaqqIXKMWHJ4EeksBQ/s1600/DSCN2676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLunBbYN7ZzmBT7hLyr-u4uQDcaLo0qrKRYFWUk41Za-9sOgAE70tcFE2wn93RS1h9vVNI3yCQx1WLI4xgiXWoPpo2sAkfgZbLx1d37Ojco7g2wUI-WfXyr02rqMaqqIXKMWHJ4EeksBQ/s400/DSCN2676.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Fragrant flower markets line the streets</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIc8-uDBTv_fYXWquCnDfdkhyphenhyphenmBlbGRXtwroC7zp-AEelZaW5pB4_FatK_owB1PvCGd9catG3YjI2kGKg1svrMETzfLkAbxjhgc1LhCkI0xJMZajw9VP3xesPqtBAc7a_GpZ_lanOULs0/s1600/DSCN2685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIc8-uDBTv_fYXWquCnDfdkhyphenhyphenmBlbGRXtwroC7zp-AEelZaW5pB4_FatK_owB1PvCGd9catG3YjI2kGKg1svrMETzfLkAbxjhgc1LhCkI0xJMZajw9VP3xesPqtBAc7a_GpZ_lanOULs0/s400/DSCN2685.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">As in the US, carnivals are popular during the Fall throughout France</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTMNQyTJ9Ru3oJAo7-EKZck1llTjcsyj37eymFZClwSUO4glZoJj8kKO5X77l53GiF0JovcIdYaBdE5yNPRiMnNuHcEdxgE0yr4hSGy_aUavtnBsu2DSyDmeu5G_jXqiCvANNmp7TIAc/s1600/DSCN2687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTMNQyTJ9Ru3oJAo7-EKZck1llTjcsyj37eymFZClwSUO4glZoJj8kKO5X77l53GiF0JovcIdYaBdE5yNPRiMnNuHcEdxgE0yr4hSGy_aUavtnBsu2DSyDmeu5G_jXqiCvANNmp7TIAc/s400/DSCN2687.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Place des Quinconces</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_Dh4pVxLQ_nl2fuRJqYMt2dFVUCR4PQneUGIUGbq3id2VWyTP68KhXiN4BaIt3BiXTueda9O4lVEIvyzMxrQbeGPANbZg6MayiTVrOl56vbaEYdyyJmd4V1I3-IgbXovkxJWvPd-RGU/s1600/DSCN2688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_Dh4pVxLQ_nl2fuRJqYMt2dFVUCR4PQneUGIUGbq3id2VWyTP68KhXiN4BaIt3BiXTueda9O4lVEIvyzMxrQbeGPANbZg6MayiTVrOl56vbaEYdyyJmd4V1I3-IgbXovkxJWvPd-RGU/s400/DSCN2688.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Snack time! Sharing a sugar-coated <i>beignet</i> (donut), hot out of the frier</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJfgf-yXnViywCaennDjhcKgXdrZ_HQyuIt5ET7yMfhFPXJjeQXCq108wLL1x6Ehoxd7rOIaZHXNBLXSY07I81B49SAdfyjJdbwevxchsvJNiPDOLoN0Ri9tioyeTTndzFQCB0CSvV7ks/s1600/DSCN2690.JPG" imageanchor="1"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJfgf-yXnViywCaennDjhcKgXdrZ_HQyuIt5ET7yMfhFPXJjeQXCq108wLL1x6Ehoxd7rOIaZHXNBLXSY07I81B49SAdfyjJdbwevxchsvJNiPDOLoN0Ri9tioyeTTndzFQCB0CSvV7ks/s400/DSCN2690.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaBjDfai23YVQDYCzG2pOBGSFLAGOuQShMiKvZxdm_LjePReKHRlmfR3x2Ccgoh92_0GrTBldHdvKUeAaClmS69iRPqj4nn0kaWK9Y_dmCyRR-y9x9kzPbkGMqVxYJ8crYMMfZJmDDeU/s1600/DSCN2692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaBjDfai23YVQDYCzG2pOBGSFLAGOuQShMiKvZxdm_LjePReKHRlmfR3x2Ccgoh92_0GrTBldHdvKUeAaClmS69iRPqj4nn0kaWK9Y_dmCyRR-y9x9kzPbkGMqVxYJ8crYMMfZJmDDeU/s400/DSCN2692.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Perfectly spaced trees make for a picturesque walk through Place des Quinconces</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTVe-UXgWexCUW8ay7IJkceaKEXso9lCMjtNjdXdT2TSFdeSz5LB3-sFj6EaaJcdOc3l7BR4kOJZ72Vnr9p1Hw4MTatDrIAmoAqDCjpFFk1zNzUdQEts3Yk52_2TQAAsWY1-9tAjKqIk/s1600/DSCN2697.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTVe-UXgWexCUW8ay7IJkceaKEXso9lCMjtNjdXdT2TSFdeSz5LB3-sFj6EaaJcdOc3l7BR4kOJZ72Vnr9p1Hw4MTatDrIAmoAqDCjpFFk1zNzUdQEts3Yk52_2TQAAsWY1-9tAjKqIk/s400/DSCN2697.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Quai Louis XVIII along the Garonne river, overlooking the Port of Bordeaux</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">After grabbing a quick sandwich from a local </span><i style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">boulangerie</i><span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">, it was time to board the bus to St-Emilion and begin our wine tour!</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0WTexfbuAWEEBT6XBqSgOHfHGFIzEYqSA5wwjIceu-scB00E_pw2qol0NmOBWnfwO8UqyeOMbBi73UB0zHmY_LJLf2wCA2M1xXwjA7MxgqaYHfp1VjPg4p9LIiZhSpeJA1Kp0P2HlpHg/s1600/DSCN2698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0WTexfbuAWEEBT6XBqSgOHfHGFIzEYqSA5wwjIceu-scB00E_pw2qol0NmOBWnfwO8UqyeOMbBi73UB0zHmY_LJLf2wCA2M1xXwjA7MxgqaYHfp1VjPg4p9LIiZhSpeJA1Kp0P2HlpHg/s400/DSCN2698.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The official Office de Tourisme wine bus</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">St-Emilion</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAV3yElr1J9qt-WyNeApPmiBvi1asaMJt-up4c7Tgebvj_hw9u7NMsB9Naw5PuZ83xWjjt8bcnio6dpEgfOu69V4ZFKnMe95_ZkO58hchNpE7ueXQe7_ktW_SZ5iOr6JXRbTiY8z9V8_E/s1600/DSCN2701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAV3yElr1J9qt-WyNeApPmiBvi1asaMJt-up4c7Tgebvj_hw9u7NMsB9Naw5PuZ83xWjjt8bcnio6dpEgfOu69V4ZFKnMe95_ZkO58hchNpE7ueXQe7_ktW_SZ5iOr6JXRbTiY8z9V8_E/s400/DSCN2701.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Overlooking the old city</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkdqeenf5SfF2KFkaQwh9olKKDbOLc0UMhS4bdFy9CEavwzcLkp9sMhRQ4dZfqEyLCt-1hqk6TeHj8K9bp3vVzw0tNHM1EiDGfl98XHtc90UdTzBeS4y1ap8-bUNuum35fqzd6lgGxcI/s1600/DSCN2702.JPG" imageanchor="1"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkdqeenf5SfF2KFkaQwh9olKKDbOLc0UMhS4bdFy9CEavwzcLkp9sMhRQ4dZfqEyLCt-1hqk6TeHj8K9bp3vVzw0tNHM1EiDGfl98XHtc90UdTzBeS4y1ap8-bUNuum35fqzd6lgGxcI/s400/DSCN2702.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Vineyards, vineyards, everywhere!</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQT7LST9cK-nca-7efLxzizgZUccFftN6WQ0k_kyKM9HssRmED4wPM8dwJpRr38lfBjKeRqYOwSk_k-V5QDyq9-3wAUZLgzl2Cp9yTbIdhtmXViSynxIdZBCMVH6GyOUqvSeXbnmvkdY/s1600/DSCN2715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQT7LST9cK-nca-7efLxzizgZUccFftN6WQ0k_kyKM9HssRmED4wPM8dwJpRr38lfBjKeRqYOwSk_k-V5QDyq9-3wAUZLgzl2Cp9yTbIdhtmXViSynxIdZBCMVH6GyOUqvSeXbnmvkdY/s400/DSCN2715.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Before the actual wine part of the tour, we got an inside look at the famous underground monuments at St-Emilion, namely a monolithic church (hewn from a single block of stone) and its surrounding catacombs. Constructed in the early 12th century, the cave-like church is completely carved out from a rocky hillside. Saint-Emilion and its church are classified as UNESCO World Heritage Sites, and in an effort to help preserve the structures, visitors aren't allowed to take pictures inside (the flash damages fragile pigments in wall paintings). Thus here are a few pictures I found on the internet to give you an idea of what the whole place looks like...</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfB4alxNyIlfS_dBae4Kgyu9GY17pZjOpMNzdd8OZAL4ukD53Ddx4_zel1YYKO4nBo787dAHcB-O5vk27BmLSSQlH-elEXDeIxY8TwlwHHjbtbUu8Zvdj6T4r8Ej6KFOV46peAHYdrDA/s1600/church+st+emilion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfB4alxNyIlfS_dBae4Kgyu9GY17pZjOpMNzdd8OZAL4ukD53Ddx4_zel1YYKO4nBo787dAHcB-O5vk27BmLSSQlH-elEXDeIxY8TwlwHHjbtbUu8Zvdj6T4r8Ej6KFOV46peAHYdrDA/s400/church+st+emilion.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Inside the monolithic church</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhKRH3q6Dc19S7tZcTBaZ57hXdK99AnC01Gx9FvYLu8mhut3il9265CKX3lGC9lAsDvoSI7PQsoTIRIwQHh7VHpBLBexNo_dsXTizh2uPE2lIbadMmR8QkmIirP9ebPtfknvGdwcvato/s1600/FRA-StEmil-chamber-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhKRH3q6Dc19S7tZcTBaZ57hXdK99AnC01Gx9FvYLu8mhut3il9265CKX3lGC9lAsDvoSI7PQsoTIRIwQHh7VHpBLBexNo_dsXTizh2uPE2lIbadMmR8QkmIirP9ebPtfknvGdwcvato/s400/FRA-StEmil-chamber-00.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The church's catacombs</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-a-pzLLohN27pW4wJ-tWBeZiPHitmHExsmwuVxMR2sKSSXJq7yMvhBvmFPgx9_oYAz3FV5eOEZtd7ZcgLwFln8X1kglub7L2Aqp_tte12N7BC391QbvI6kraSt-5f8zdWgOSrja2IOA/s1600/monolithic+church+st+emilion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-a-pzLLohN27pW4wJ-tWBeZiPHitmHExsmwuVxMR2sKSSXJq7yMvhBvmFPgx9_oYAz3FV5eOEZtd7ZcgLwFln8X1kglub7L2Aqp_tte12N7BC391QbvI6kraSt-5f8zdWgOSrja2IOA/s400/monolithic+church+st+emilion.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The bell tower, situated directly above the underground church</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">Next stop: Ch</span>â<span style="line-height: 20px;">teau Laniote! Our bus drove us over to a vineyard just outside the center of St-Emilion where we got to meet the property's convivial owner Arnaud and learn more about the wine-making process, from vine to bottle. The vineyards of Ch</span>â<span style="line-height: 20px;">teau Laniote date back to 1816 and have always belonged to the same family, with today's owners marking the 7th generation of winemakers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Travel buddies at the vineyard!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">We got to taste red wines </span><span style="line-height: 20px;">(white and rosé are also produced in Bordeaux, but in much smaller quantities) </span><span style="line-height: 20px;">from 2 different <i>mill</i></span></span><span style="line-height: 20px;"><i>é</i></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 20px;"><i>simes</i> (the fancy term for 'vintages'), first 2011 and then 2010. Thanks to our expert narration, we were able to distinguish the subtle differences in tast, noting more complexities in the older, more mature wine. All in all, I had a great time checking out both the local wines and the breathtaking scenery of the vineyards.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Sun-kissed and ready for some wine</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuSKVhEbMgk30WM4bYTlczlWgtLwy4K1KKD_D6U_y5dBLl0-6z_dA1xMAh7vud5Q6O2FSlw2Cf8t4vW7MRAW8d_WsmhRq1HhKE_z8KfDZGqgDukiF0oHa5YPa6AVXCFV5z8Bq8ZGxB88/s1600/DSCN2722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuSKVhEbMgk30WM4bYTlczlWgtLwy4K1KKD_D6U_y5dBLl0-6z_dA1xMAh7vud5Q6O2FSlw2Cf8t4vW7MRAW8d_WsmhRq1HhKE_z8KfDZGqgDukiF0oHa5YPa6AVXCFV5z8Bq8ZGxB88/s400/DSCN2722.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Wine aging in toasted oak barrels</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">So many bottles, so little time!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Sizing up my glass</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Cheers!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The vineyards</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our tour bus brought us back to Bordeaux and we spent the evening admiring the city by night before taking yet another train (number 4) back to Toulouse. We did some leisurely shopping and people-watching on Monday the 21st and ate a delicious traditional French meal at Restaurant Le May (possible the world's cutest place to eat?) to round out our last day in the city - and the country, for that matter. The next morning, we were headed off to Spain...</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">My lunch at Restaurant Le May: pork cheek confit with a shallot cream sauce, served with au gratin potatoes and seasonal vegetable pur<span style="line-height: 107%;">é</span>e - <i>d<span style="line-height: 107%;">é</span>licieux</i>!</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">*Thanks to our expert photographer Yahaira for some awesome shots of our trip - you rock!</span></div>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-64675936611552812252013-10-18T07:08:00.001-04:002013-11-01T12:13:40.643-04:00Vacation Time!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">All packed and ready to go!</span></td></tr>
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So I'm just wrapping up week number 2 of working at the school and it's already time to set off for a 2 week vacation starting tonight! All schools get a two-week break for <i>La Toussaint</i> (All Saint's Day) - France used to be very religious and although it is much more secular now, the tradition of taking a break at the end of October still stands...I'm not complaining!<br />
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Consequently, I'll be on a temporary blogging hiatus while I enjoy my time off - but fear not, I'll post all about it when I return!</div>
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I'm leaving Forbach tonight and heading to Paris, where I'll stay with my friend Kasey for the night until we set off for the city of Toulouse in southwestern France tomorrow morning. There, we'll meet up with Eric and explore the area (including taking a day trip to Bordeaux to do some wine tasting on Sunday) until Tuesday morning when we'll take a train south of the border to Girona, Spain. Thursday night we head to Nimes, where Eric lives, to spend a few days seeing the sights there, and finally we'll travel back up to Paris next Saturday night to end our trip. Eric and I are spending a few days with Kasey at her apartment and then we get to crash with our former host family for a couple nights before parting ways on Halloween. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOKcj4uZVW3veVxm5_b9gvLdXIibBZ_Vn25i0CxRRTIzJgZf3xrLDES22J0qs0aW5n6LPz6O07zsAvurKbL6Y1lAZxvFqQebHIM3ZSuaJEmRugdRrz2WKArb2MEoWL6khBaOtQShnc_ss/s1600/2013-10-18+11.56.28+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOKcj4uZVW3veVxm5_b9gvLdXIibBZ_Vn25i0CxRRTIzJgZf3xrLDES22J0qs0aW5n6LPz6O07zsAvurKbL6Y1lAZxvFqQebHIM3ZSuaJEmRugdRrz2WKArb2MEoWL6khBaOtQShnc_ss/s400/2013-10-18+11.56.28+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Trains, trains and more trains</span></td></tr>
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I'm really looking forward to some warm, sunny weather down south, as in Forbach we've been stuck in the low 50's with overcast skies everyday - temperatures should be topping out right around 80 where we'll be this week, which is a much welcomed change!</div>
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Nevertheless, I was ecstatic to find pumpkins in our local supermarket, so I bought one to decorate our apartment & am hoping it will still be good to carve once I return to Forbach! As someone once said, you can take a girl out of New England, but you can't take New England out of the girl! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Ma citrouille</i> - my pumpkin!</span></td></tr>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-36895437742244372642013-10-13T08:03:00.002-04:002013-10-13T08:03:57.064-04:00Glück auf!<div style="text-align: justify;">
They say you learn something every day, and today, I learned a lot.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yay, coal! Welcome to Eastern France!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">While I love travelling and seeing new places - often in different countries - I also think it's important to get to know the area where you live as well. Thus, my roommate Meike, Rudi (the other English assistant in Forbach) and I set off for a day of driving around to explore the part of France we now call home.</span><br />
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First on our list: the Lorraine American Cemetery in St-Avold. This is Europe's largest American cemetery, and after being thoroughly impressed with the American cemetery next to the D-Day beaches in Normandy during my last stay in France, I figured this place would be of great interest to me. After a quick 20-minute drive to St-Avold, we meandered unsuccessfully throughout the town and finally ended up at the Office de Tourisme, knowing that they'd surely be able to point us in the right direction. There, we learned two things: the American cemetery was located 1 kilometer down the road from us, and it was closed thanks to the US government shutdown.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">US Government Shutdown: Impacting European Tourists</span></td></tr>
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How can that be, my fellow teaching assistants asked? I hadn't thought about it beforehand, but I know that the American cemetery in Normandy is technically located on "US soil" that has been given to America by France in order for us to inter our fallen war heroes, and is consequently staffed by US park rangers and military officials (just like the one here in St-Avold)...who are currently out of a job due to current events back home, and thus have been furloughed here, nearly 4,000 miles away as well. Assuming the government shutdown doesn't last for 8 more months, we'll have to make a return visit when we can actually visit the monuments here. Nonetheless, it was a slightly disappointing start to our morning.</div>
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Next up: the Musée des Mineurs Wendel, a museum about the Wendel coal mine and the miners who worked there. The region of Lorraine has been involved in coal mining ever since Napoleon had his surveyors inspect the area for natural resources, and the Wendel family opened up the coal vein here in 1853 and successfully mined up until 2001. Because of its bounty of valuable natural resources, Lorraine has been fought over throughout history, belonging to Germany during both World Wars and finally returning to French control after the armistice in 1945. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmudqWNhJCoajKcv8t9_z_8gB-QU-bsu4B0qEqWoBcuzALrhvyTTuV14FwZm6WknRAccwL9TEXKArr1oe6nrIypW60G0FMvS_GPGwPI-TVxYb0q8lQse8R-WX1l_50Q2AiVcNJZPG-_s/s1600/Charbon+Sarrolorrain+Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmudqWNhJCoajKcv8t9_z_8gB-QU-bsu4B0qEqWoBcuzALrhvyTTuV14FwZm6WknRAccwL9TEXKArr1oe6nrIypW60G0FMvS_GPGwPI-TVxYb0q8lQse8R-WX1l_50Q2AiVcNJZPG-_s/s400/Charbon+Sarrolorrain+Map.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">This map shows all of the coal mines on the French side of the Sarrolorrain region (the blue represents German territory)</span></td></tr>
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Before getting to the museum, however, we had a bit of a mix-up regarding its actual whereabouts. For some reason, whenever you research a museum or cultural point of interest in the area online, you're provided only with the name of the street on which it's located - no specific number or anything that would help you actually locate it in person. Long story short, we drove to the town of Stiring-Wendel, and after roaming the streets and asking random people where their mining museum might be hiding, we discovered it is actually situated in the town of Petite-Rosselle, a mere 15 minutes away...whoops! But after walking through Stiring-Wendel, we learned that there does exist a sleepier town than Forbach, and that we have no reason to ever waste gas again to go exploring in it!</div>
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Back in Petite-Rosselle, we finally arrived at the Wendel mining site and museum. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, as I knew nothing about mining, but we were pleasantly surprised. It's been a few years since I last learned about the formation of coal, so I needed a quick refresher (see below if you do too!)...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The formation of coal</span></td></tr>
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Millions of years ago when Earth was home to the super-continent called Pangea, France was located a lot closer to the equator where it was hot, humid, and prime territory for tons of vegetation to prosper. As the plant matter died and sunk to the bottom of ponds and lakes, peat formed and gradually became buried under lots of rocks, dirt and sediment. Over the next 300 millennia, all the matter on top of the peat exerted lots of pressure and heat, turning it into coal. And there you have it: the continents drifted apart, bringing their coal deposits with them, and that's how so much coal got to be all the way up here in France.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Continental drift</span></td></tr>
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Back in 1853, Charles de Wendel founded a steel factory in the town of Stiring (where we thought the museum was located...) which used iron ore from Lorraine, coke from the German Saarland, and later coal from Lorraine. He built a large worker's village called Stiring-Wendel in 1857 to house all the men who worked in his factory, and later built up larger settlements to house the miners once the coal mines began functioning. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2sYU_Rqo7_oKqh1Asmf8cp5HACJsTAFEH15HiXO3Lu96SKIStYfJN9FhX6G_SjYy8v8Os1SRIyT893fXPzBrogalC0LOnngvkraiYD1H_SET-TeKmrPrNBa99rGQZ3e-U2VkUt3UrFk/s1600/reconnaissez-vous-cette-cite-miniere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2sYU_Rqo7_oKqh1Asmf8cp5HACJsTAFEH15HiXO3Lu96SKIStYfJN9FhX6G_SjYy8v8Os1SRIyT893fXPzBrogalC0LOnngvkraiYD1H_SET-TeKmrPrNBa99rGQZ3e-U2VkUt3UrFk/s400/reconnaissez-vous-cette-cite-miniere.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Aerial view of one of the planned mining villages constructed near the coal mines</span></td></tr>
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Boys went to mining school at age 13, and after 4 years of training they were eligible to start working in the mines at the age of 17. Girls also attended special home-ec classes at 13 to train them to be the perfect miners' wives, with courses which taught them how to do laundry, sew, iron, cook, and run a household perfectly synchronized around the different shifts at the mine.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBStR77nbz4ruMddC5qpwZm8hf3URPEeTuEneAaA4o2fU47JkTS7E0QkolFZlDRSaZbYnQmhaa_r5PuRzU63DBgO9KwpEv9Ac7IUp374DrrTy9KO_hKKIsEkHGDwUMF4l7Z14yRIReU1I/s1600/FEMMES_MINEURS_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBStR77nbz4ruMddC5qpwZm8hf3URPEeTuEneAaA4o2fU47JkTS7E0QkolFZlDRSaZbYnQmhaa_r5PuRzU63DBgO9KwpEv9Ac7IUp374DrrTy9KO_hKKIsEkHGDwUMF4l7Z14yRIReU1I/s400/FEMMES_MINEURS_2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Young girls attending "Miners' Wives School"</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Although mining was and continues to be a very dangerous line of work, the French government recognized this and thus developed a system of perks to working as a miner or being married to one. As this region of France was ravaged by many wars, the mining of coal was of the utmost importance to fuel the production of the steel which was needed to rebuild the country, and thus miners were in high demand. In order to entice men into working in the mines, free housing, heating, and transportation to and from the mine were provided. There were commissaries for the miners to buy their food at reduced prices, free daycare was provided to children of miners, and retirement benefits were quite tempting. If a miner were to die either in the mine or due to health complications from mining (like black lung disease), his widow and children would continue to receive free housing/heating, etc, as well as a monetary death benefit.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi18lhKykCpGTLnabfkIQcJN1dhJGPbgnUyfnfD60v1t7OzxRkmCptz6ZA2qrkInrpl29FjItOesRo1UI4KIRZputFszbNva1uvyQNnUDyQzQuca9WZ_QYdg9O-sda4Q3AtL4EHqP4MtMo/s1600/2013_expo_musee_mine_oct2_11572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi18lhKykCpGTLnabfkIQcJN1dhJGPbgnUyfnfD60v1t7OzxRkmCptz6ZA2qrkInrpl29FjItOesRo1UI4KIRZputFszbNva1uvyQNnUDyQzQuca9WZ_QYdg9O-sda4Q3AtL4EHqP4MtMo/s400/2013_expo_musee_mine_oct2_11572.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Houses built for mining families in my area (they still stand and are occupied today)</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
The museum did a great job explaining the origins of coal mining in Lorraine and provided an inside view of daily life as a miner. The museum is located inside one of the mine's buildings, with exhibits in the shower room (where 150 soot-covered workers could bathe simultaneously), the locker rooms (where miners' clothes still hang from the ceiling), and various equipment rooms housing headlamps, helmets, tools and ID badges.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFKCXncauhADWlMyjGzvduerp6r7LWMEImek2EqshJ0joPHT1vK7GEgJVNpJD6-igbRKars6NO-zXW4L7xD6neHMxTgcNY2EiWW0MvQVgwBtKKv8aNnDDmgSWxe0Dkkwrm45Pf0E4UoQ/s1600/DSCN2587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFKCXncauhADWlMyjGzvduerp6r7LWMEImek2EqshJ0joPHT1vK7GEgJVNpJD6-igbRKars6NO-zXW4L7xD6neHMxTgcNY2EiWW0MvQVgwBtKKv8aNnDDmgSWxe0Dkkwrm45Pf0E4UoQ/s400/DSCN2587.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"La Salle des Pendus" (The Hanging Room), where the miners' day clothes hung while they worked</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwxqVJiMUN5cudznSSrYODl8xaf_-JHOnwk47g65vV1_CDKu_bcgNTdUmJw2-EPr8wy3b10oHmHPoP6y7Wv1FXb2wZ0NC9pEcaHfBoeUUhm-DK2lC5cln5xfGblGVG_aUULKbdIFTX5WY/s1600/DSCN2588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwxqVJiMUN5cudznSSrYODl8xaf_-JHOnwk47g65vV1_CDKu_bcgNTdUmJw2-EPr8wy3b10oHmHPoP6y7Wv1FXb2wZ0NC9pEcaHfBoeUUhm-DK2lC5cln5xfGblGVG_aUULKbdIFTX5WY/s400/DSCN2588.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Each miner had his own chain instead of a locker</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YVdbySP4BH1ztPoxmGOLWbpm5Y41d9dQNkvAAtWZuPNs0EN62ccYRU87MYPEm7EVmXChb9Mt-T3pJOv7tDcNfg-XYjaPPI72V6RZcj_MNiseGa514d6z2RgJKRSzGE8aYCmZnttcFvo/s1600/DSCN2590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YVdbySP4BH1ztPoxmGOLWbpm5Y41d9dQNkvAAtWZuPNs0EN62ccYRU87MYPEm7EVmXChb9Mt-T3pJOv7tDcNfg-XYjaPPI72V6RZcj_MNiseGa514d6z2RgJKRSzGE8aYCmZnttcFvo/s400/DSCN2590.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dirty mining clothes suspended outside the shower room</span></td></tr>
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Then it was time for our guided tour of the "mine" itself. Our guide led us around some of the abandoned mine buildings as we made our way over to the building containing the simulated mine. Before entering the mine, the miners would wish each other "Glück auf!" Recognized as the "miners' greeting" and still used between former miners even today, this German phrase means "good luck getting out of the mine!" as one never knew what sorts of dangers might befall him that day. A statue of St. Barbara, the patron saint of miners and firefighters, stood outside the mine shaft as well, in hopes that she would protect the workers from harm. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UNqXC-b6rgZ3CqPlRAGfGsMj0sXRSck4ZkeDnFsOyqH0qnqTXIkE0ymfaUU0K175g2Vdd-pAXA9JgjZAmya0loM9AUe-ws6f4BRGLSMOGyqxNjRDbhkW1xVcgjXSRnwt9u-36ep328M/s1600/Sainte_Barbe_bis.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UNqXC-b6rgZ3CqPlRAGfGsMj0sXRSck4ZkeDnFsOyqH0qnqTXIkE0ymfaUU0K175g2Vdd-pAXA9JgjZAmya0loM9AUe-ws6f4BRGLSMOGyqxNjRDbhkW1xVcgjXSRnwt9u-36ep328M/s400/Sainte_Barbe_bis.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Saint Barbara (Sainte-Barbe, in French) was locked in a tower by her father for wanting to convert to Christianity. After a priest disguised as a doctor snuck into the tower and successfully converted her, her father was furious and set fire to the building. Saint-Barbe survived the flames, and is thus the patron saint of those who work with fire today.</span></td></tr>
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After hopping into the (simulated) cage which brought us down 1200 meters into the coal mine, we stepped into an underground tunnel filled with massive machines used to mine the coal. The miners would dig the first 150 meters of the tunnels by hand, and then bring all the machines down piece by piece over the course of a couple weeks and assemble them underground. Saying that the miners were "hard-working" is an understatement!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIsbveLP4_CwMmgeR5jmpvGZb8-TfN5xPaLWxmgcVoCeRtEH57gvl6vv8gi7rUyr6c1mYoMWWEg1lyYpgKhP0GDGVxXeuTW8pu-Imv6uYMFKTU-fHI5IA3znWfqeqGBWwLQS7Ubx_Kpc/s1600/DSCN2591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIsbveLP4_CwMmgeR5jmpvGZb8-TfN5xPaLWxmgcVoCeRtEH57gvl6vv8gi7rUyr6c1mYoMWWEg1lyYpgKhP0GDGVxXeuTW8pu-Imv6uYMFKTU-fHI5IA3znWfqeqGBWwLQS7Ubx_Kpc/s400/DSCN2591.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dujardin compressed air locomotive, used to navigate inside the mines from the 1920s until 2000. Compressed air was safer to use than electricity, due to fire hazards.</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
We learned about the dangers of working in the mines as well - from cave-ins to firedamp and coal dust explosions. Throughout the decades, many types of materials were used to hold up the walls of the mine in order to prevent them from caving in and crushing the miners; wooden beams, metal poles, and ultimately pneumatic pistons did the job. Interestingly, in the era of wooden beams, the miners preferred to use pine timbers, which aren't nearly as strong as some other woods like oak, but will audibly crack up to 5 times before snapping (unlike oak which just snaps in two without any notice), giving the miners a warning and thus time to erect new supports or exit the mine before catastrophe struck. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-wy-4Aen24imWAnUvnJQvynlxTnWkFYB9wzdyq63YFYN9Yt9O2Nu1qipzRs9HWHlqXT4TsdQ7ozILyQR6A5dJyLk1sNYXcagDQ7PK9a9IPR6LRE092Ec0X1f5AW3bF2hyphenhyphenpvG6JQ7cC4/s1600/DSCN2599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-wy-4Aen24imWAnUvnJQvynlxTnWkFYB9wzdyq63YFYN9Yt9O2Nu1qipzRs9HWHlqXT4TsdQ7ozILyQR6A5dJyLk1sNYXcagDQ7PK9a9IPR6LRE092Ec0X1f5AW3bF2hyphenhyphenpvG6JQ7cC4/s400/DSCN2599.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Standing before Puits Wendel 1 & Wendel 2, the first two mines to be opened at this site</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is impossible to mine coal without releasing methane gas (referred to as 'firedamp' when it's in a mine) from the ground, which proves to be a major hazard for those working underground in the tunnels as it is highly flammable. With no odor or taste, firedamp was extremely difficult to detect before the advent of modern technology. I was already familiar with the practice of lowering a cage of canaries down into the mine shaft to check for methane - if the cage came back up and the birds were alive, it was safe for humans to enter the mine - but our guide explained a slightly more gruesome procedure which was also used. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47T83VgN9YSMFBYuz37Iquj4QYLfrDSJW0Jf776wn_5wfdiclIl4r6kMP3NjUMUHEZCTS9D_2BCweQl1ZV2Y7-GwTCdQoc22fEdSWMcX4XG4SBDE1EEQpClLhKVB0HRxZzsJY_GBBZIU/s1600/DSCN2601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47T83VgN9YSMFBYuz37Iquj4QYLfrDSJW0Jf776wn_5wfdiclIl4r6kMP3NjUMUHEZCTS9D_2BCweQl1ZV2Y7-GwTCdQoc22fEdSWMcX4XG4SBDE1EEQpClLhKVB0HRxZzsJY_GBBZIU/s400/DSCN2601.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A large cylindrical wash tub for coal still stands next to the museum's entrance</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
After all the wars in France, there were many prisoners of war who were ultimately sentenced to death for whatever reason, and it was becoming expensive to keep all of them alive until their date with the guillotine (which was still used in France until 1977). Thus it was decided that prisoners could volunteer to become <span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>pénitents</i> (those looking to atone for their sins). The </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>pénitent</i> would be lowered into the mine much like the canary, but given a torch. If there was a dangerous amount of methane in the air, the prisoner's torch would ignite the air and BOOM, an explosion would occur, killing the prisoner (and eliminating another government expense) and alerting the miners at the top of the shaft that it wasn't safe to enter the mine. If the </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>pénitent </i>survived two weeks of this dangerous task, then he earned his freedom and was released back into society (and was thus one less mouth for the government to feed in prison).</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcfrTVF52qmPwFDbtQv5l2rPiAXsQoM8L1kxENvhrUBEv1zpW8KAHKaAskVuK0tQYu-DOenKdILpdprOUK9PRvzS5o_hX2tgwNjLDiJLJtU_YWgvTKfkRZ5Yy-0Ad7n3zRcajSNN6W7w/s1600/The+Penitent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcfrTVF52qmPwFDbtQv5l2rPiAXsQoM8L1kxENvhrUBEv1zpW8KAHKaAskVuK0tQYu-DOenKdILpdprOUK9PRvzS5o_hX2tgwNjLDiJLJtU_YWgvTKfkRZ5Yy-0Ad7n3zRcajSNN6W7w/s400/The+Penitent.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The <i>pénitent</i>, checking the mine for methane</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
There are two types of explosions that occur in mines: firedamp explosions (<i>coup de grisou</i>) and coal dust explosions (<i>coup de <span style="font-family: inherit;">poussière</span></i>). The firedamp explosion always comes first, and when it happens the coal dust is shaken from the walls and can ignite, causing a second explosion within a fraction of a second. The video below was shown at the museum and does a good job showing just how dangerous these explosions can be, devastating multiple kilometers of mine tunnels and all the miners located inside them within seconds. Since the video is in French, here's a quick overview of what happens:</div>
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<div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">beginning to 2:00 mark: The worker spreads coal dust inside the simulated mine shaft, at the center of which is a stick of dynamite to simulate the primary firedamp explosion, which then ignites the coal dust, causing the second explosion - shown first in normal time, and a second time in slow-motion.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">2:00 to 3:20: The narrator explains that to avoid this second explosion, you need to prevent the coal dust from igniting. The worker then spreads a mixture of coal dust and pulverized chalk in the mine shaft, and the dynamite is once again lit to simulate the firedamp explosion, but this time no flames are produced because the second explosion was prevented, as the chalk powder coats the coal dust and keeps it from igniting.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">3:20 to end: Instead of putting chalk dust in the tunnel, trays of water are suspended inside the mine to act as sprinklers to snuff out the coal dust explosion. No more flames! The chalk dust method and the trays of water are often combined inside the mines in an effort to improve safety.</li>
</ul>
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While the video is a bit cheesy, it really gives you a good idea of just how powerful and devastating explosions inside the mine can be.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/HqLAQLvvzjU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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While there isn't a whole lot to see around Forbach, I highly recommend the Musée Les Mineurs Wendel - all signs, exhibits, audio and video clips, and the tour of the mine are presented in French, German and English, making the content readily accessible to lots of people. I didn't have high expectations for our tour, but I was very intrigued and think my visit here will help me to better understand the former mining community I'm now a part of.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ6RCYlF8Bt46CLMuyVG-KqZ0oQaOzflBkwYrk0uZKoMCxQAxBm97yWuEuEc8ghkDkcJ5hJlKAPtFu7J14Xh_N4jf8QW51gKYe0yXYlzdPBYGjbWSbW0xlLI5oiPBCRwQgGovYOP_lJwc/s1600/musee+les+mineurs+wendel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ6RCYlF8Bt46CLMuyVG-KqZ0oQaOzflBkwYrk0uZKoMCxQAxBm97yWuEuEc8ghkDkcJ5hJlKAPtFu7J14Xh_N4jf8QW51gKYe0yXYlzdPBYGjbWSbW0xlLI5oiPBCRwQgGovYOP_lJwc/s400/musee+les+mineurs+wendel.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The remains of the Wendel coal mine facility and museum as they stand today</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1BdZfstqGgDnP5RJOJxrQELThnUkddrdEbeJDzw1OZstwrT8QvIaQFvDyua_srha2Sk65NDwEKit9u8Ylv_-krGT2fGEO0JzlQwx_FdIxKNA9UIqjRadUT_H5gk1cVSfn3_fEicQYVk/s1600/Logo_Musee_Les_Mineurs_Wendel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1BdZfstqGgDnP5RJOJxrQELThnUkddrdEbeJDzw1OZstwrT8QvIaQFvDyua_srha2Sk65NDwEKit9u8Ylv_-krGT2fGEO0JzlQwx_FdIxKNA9UIqjRadUT_H5gk1cVSfn3_fEicQYVk/s400/Logo_Musee_Les_Mineurs_Wendel.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-34171595972795273052013-10-08T07:30:00.001-04:002013-10-08T07:30:30.676-04:00Settling In & A Trip to Metz<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">My teaching contract officially
started on Tuesday, October 1, but I didn't have to start observing classes
until Thursday the 3rd because all of the language assistants in the Nancy-Metz
school district had to attend an orientation seminar on Wednesday in Nancy.
Located about 110 kilometers (70 miles) from Forbach, Meike, Rudi and I had been
planning on taking the train to Nancy, which costs about 13€ each way, but I
had been chatting with one of the English teachers here who said he was going
to be a presenter at the orientation, so we were more than welcome to ride there and back with him - score! </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">We hopped in the car with him at 7:15 am and headed off to Nancy. The car ride gave us plenty of time to chat and get to know each other better in 3 different languages - Rudi, Meike and Manuel (the English teacher) all speak English, French and German, so we swapped stories in an interesting mix of<i> franglais</i> (French & English) and <i>frallemand</i> (French & German), with a few breaks of English thrown in there too! Though I don't know more than a handful of phrases in German, I'm getting better at recognizing words here and there and have high hopes that I'll improve my German lexicon by the end of the year.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">During our day-long seminar, we listened to multiple presenters speak about a myriad of topics, from learning statistics about our school district (there are 92 language assistants this year from 15 countries, of whom 46 are English assistants), to information about applying to </span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><i>La Sécurité Sociale</i>, buying additional health insurance, and getting tips on pedagogical methods for interacting with kids in the classroom. The day was split up with lunch at Le Grand Sauvoy, during which I was able to catch up with one of my fellow Sweet Briar Paris students who I had randomly bumped into during the seminar. I had no idea that Sarah was doing TAPIF, nevermind that she got placed in the same school district as me, so when we saw each other in the hallway we had a good laugh! It's always nice to see a familiar face so far from home.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-nky3DVp5KPL7TcJv7oEBW3MQXnxAczti0s6VT4PvqG7s9JZaB4zWq3l92kHkevQY_8uZ4R0WDGJpS5TXbOHR1pmK6JfSVCgS-VzIseQtEFDlUmPEwLIw-KstWT2K_gp5OtM-AW3vUUA/s1600/DSCN2513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-nky3DVp5KPL7TcJv7oEBW3MQXnxAczti0s6VT4PvqG7s9JZaB4zWq3l92kHkevQY_8uZ4R0WDGJpS5TXbOHR1pmK6JfSVCgS-VzIseQtEFDlUmPEwLIw-KstWT2K_gp5OtM-AW3vUUA/s400/DSCN2513.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sarah and I - Sweet Briar Paris reunion!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Also, I finally bit the bullet and went to the bank to open an account - which is necessary for me to be paid monthly and to receive </span>reimbursements<span style="line-height: 115%;"> for any medical expenses through Social Security. This is no quick task! Meike and I went to open our accounts together, and it took us a combined total of 2 hours, versus the 10 minutes it might take per person back in the USA. Thankfully the lady who waited on us was very nice and extremely helpful - she spoke German as well, so Meike was able to clear up any questions we might have had problems with in French. The bank asks you a lot of very personal questions (not just in casual conversation with the agent), many of which I'm not quite sure how they're related to banking or why it even matters: how many kids do you have? Which religion do you adhere to? Are you married? Do you have a car? How much is it worth? Anyways, after jumping through their hoops and literally signing 30 papers, I now have a bank account and renter's insurance through BNP Paribas! I'm looking forward to getting paid at the end of the month because I'll finally be earning Euro, which is much more valuable to me than paying out of my American bank account, where I essentially pay 1/3 more for everything because of the exchange rate (today, for example, 1 Euro = $1.36, and $1 is only worth 0.74 Euro - not good for Americans!).</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Since I now had a bank account, I could finally finish filling out all my other paperwork and turn it in. I happy submitted my Social Security application, multiple forms to my school, mailed out my immigration paperwork and essentially washed my hands of all the bureaucratic matters that needed my immediate attention. I still have to work on getting my birth certificate translated, but apparently that isn't as urgent as these other papers, and I'm still waiting to hear back from some local translators to get that ball rolling.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;">Friday began my week of classroom observations. I was glad that I had had some free days in order to get all my paperwork done and appointments out of the way, but I was getting antsy to see how English classes here work and was interested to see what the students would think of me. The classes I observe usually start off with the teacher reviewing the homework and teaching a short lesson, then having me come to the front of the class so that students can ask me all sorts of questions in order to find out who I am, all while practicing their spoken English. </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">Let's just say I've been thoroughly entertained! Some of my favorite questions and comments are as follows: Since you're American, how many hamburgers do you eat in a week? How many celebrities do you personally know? Do you know Obama or 50 Cent? How many TVs do Americans have in their houses? </span><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Are you related to Walter White (the protagonist in<i> Breaking Bad</i>)? Are you sure you're American, because I thought Americans are supposed to be really fat?...the list goes on!</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;">So far I've found that everyone's level of English varies greatly in each class, and I've also noted that the kids in middle school are much less apprehensive about speaking English in front of me than the high schoolers. The younger kids just want to ask all sorts of questions, while some of the older ones are just too worried that they'll make a mistake when talking to me and will feel dumb if they mess up. I remember feeling like that when I first moved to Paris - I was very apprehensive about speaking in French to the locals, but I also knew that it was the only way for me to gain confidence and improve. Everybody makes mistakes when they speak - for example, in English, when someone asks "how are you doing today?" how many people answer "I'm good" instead of saying "I'm well"? Nobody's perfect, whether we're speaking our mother tongue or a second language, so I think the sooner the students realize that, the quicker they can start improving their skills.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;">My roommate Meike's boyfriend, Simon, came from Germany to visit this weekend, so we decided to take a day trip to Metz on Saturday. In addition to the TGV train, we're lucky to have the TER as well, which is a smaller train serving many cities in the region of Lorraine. We paid 6</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">€ each way to take the local train to Metz, the capital city of both Lorraine and of the Moselle<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <i>d</i></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">é</span></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">partement</span></i>. Steeped in both Roman and Germanic culture, Metz has an extremely rich 3,000 year history and is really an amazing city.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ulkOu3CZXBe9IaGwkx45yPSqVUpSX3n48Ewiyht4pax1WJ-tR8Hx0c7OOAQ-QziEbbVripzl74cU7OrQy026qqAM6XvxkAXmPrFIGwk-5wuosXs023nOUprfjU9yFCu6jRhazCrjOO4/s1600/france_metz_map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ulkOu3CZXBe9IaGwkx45yPSqVUpSX3n48Ewiyht4pax1WJ-tR8Hx0c7OOAQ-QziEbbVripzl74cU7OrQy026qqAM6XvxkAXmPrFIGwk-5wuosXs023nOUprfjU9yFCu6jRhazCrjOO4/s1600/france_metz_map.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">After a 40 minute ride, we stepped off the train into the rain and headed st<span style="font-family: inherit;">raight for Cath</span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">é</span></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">drale Saint-Etienne. Interesting side-note: churches designated as 'cathedrals' are home to the bishop, from the Latin <i>cathedra</i>, meaning "seat," and they literally contain a special chair for the bishop to sit upon.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCF3xpBvahqVyfPznxONC0OENZuNqiCyyWQTVcyNGOOSkTwaEZS_sUXHUBYFiAY_g4kI2QzjhIuj50nQ8RPZd8-yrNL5zZvc8hB7YCC8A4seG2KO8GVB-0yeGyqGFi_fOyAfYeUzAxgP0/s1600/DSCN2514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCF3xpBvahqVyfPznxONC0OENZuNqiCyyWQTVcyNGOOSkTwaEZS_sUXHUBYFiAY_g4kI2QzjhIuj50nQ8RPZd8-yrNL5zZvc8hB7YCC8A4seG2KO8GVB-0yeGyqGFi_fOyAfYeUzAxgP0/s400/DSCN2514.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Cath</span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 17px; text-align: start;">é</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start; text-indent: -0.25in;">drale Saint-Etienne</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Built in the Gothic style between 1220 and 1522 AD and nicknamed <i>"La Lanterne du Bon Dieu"</i> ("the Good Lord's Lantern"), the Metz cathedral houses the world's largest ensemble of stained glass windows, a staggering 69,920 square feet! Tall, airy cathedrals such as St-Etienne are only able to have such vast expanses of stained glass windows thanks to the innovation of flying buttresses, which channel the downward force from the roof out and away from the walls/windows of the church, through the buttresses, and down into the ground below.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzPkmdlQWOvVpC2Pd1wIm8a8vmH1f7bewvg6PVafRWNSNQvqAli506cPgfIneDLmFSl7JL9i9jSr4D7DZbElQ6yIskFAtEwP48b1VscN9FMGKdBfzliaWcJVvTcwbQ-BhDAk3Wr-vf8g/s1600/flying+buttress+force.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzPkmdlQWOvVpC2Pd1wIm8a8vmH1f7bewvg6PVafRWNSNQvqAli506cPgfIneDLmFSl7JL9i9jSr4D7DZbElQ6yIskFAtEwP48b1VscN9FMGKdBfzliaWcJVvTcwbQ-BhDAk3Wr-vf8g/s400/flying+buttress+force.png" width="190" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thrust from the weight of the roof is channeled out away from the fragile windows, thanks to flying buttresses</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOOxi6KveUZeAq2Wyboq19saLhO_Ae6vkce4NFq1W1GOkbnz62YpNtaBXI-nHibp26S6cImLWQKoK9UBAM3Oh8kveeek2oBQQ1iGb3nWZMABtpVHdLhpXgjdxk0Ev9AihwrkL0Fq0-9lM/s1600/MetzCathedral.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOOxi6KveUZeAq2Wyboq19saLhO_Ae6vkce4NFq1W1GOkbnz62YpNtaBXI-nHibp26S6cImLWQKoK9UBAM3Oh8kveeek2oBQQ1iGb3nWZMABtpVHdLhpXgjdxk0Ev9AihwrkL0Fq0-9lM/s400/MetzCathedral.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Plan of the cathedral, with each 'X' representing the intricate ceiling vaults</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Constructed from locally quarried yellow limestone, the cathedral's nave soars to a height of 136 feet, one of the tallest in the world. As you step through the main portal into the church, you can't help but look up, and everyone walks around the cathedral with their chins up and mouths agape. We spent about an hour roaming about and taking pictures of the church's gorgeous interior - while it was stunning even in the rain, I can only imagine what the inside must look like when sunshine filters through all the windows, projecting a multicolored spectacle throughout the building. A return trip is a must!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUy1B8hJSp_kjdiYlEhiFDknGOPVvobuUwxuN-dKR1XDabOyw8na01sJI4zvXBLU0_l1daPyzeNAJgJJZqO-HercnxryNein3yIN7BUGjFsr1XHx09zHm3_6QXt_3kKf9XYLLgEptxfA/s1600/DSCN2516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUy1B8hJSp_kjdiYlEhiFDknGOPVvobuUwxuN-dKR1XDabOyw8na01sJI4zvXBLU0_l1daPyzeNAJgJJZqO-HercnxryNein3yIN7BUGjFsr1XHx09zHm3_6QXt_3kKf9XYLLgEptxfA/s400/DSCN2516.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">View down the nave of the cathedral towards the altar</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWpug1kQL9qsmLf7htXD_6iwgxr_OYA467pfUvaCm-2MPopYONK9IEvobH32ui5QV0RW2ff12ujl9FipxbdPXCWgSbmSPsDQ37qRUNWAiMt5ZLYKchAbCL2YxmythfNV0AinWAURznPpU/s1600/DSCN2530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWpug1kQL9qsmLf7htXD_6iwgxr_OYA467pfUvaCm-2MPopYONK9IEvobH32ui5QV0RW2ff12ujl9FipxbdPXCWgSbmSPsDQ37qRUNWAiMt5ZLYKchAbCL2YxmythfNV0AinWAURznPpU/s400/DSCN2530.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Behind the altar, looking back towards the Rose Window</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVw1vZXD7Y7OP_ho5UrXTKaVQe4AVPyuSu8rAm7wswkjHJPfzy9vSge8P6cm420R6FZjGoeRLCcIOcCt_akULfFkFWcFBN2VXyTQ97xtEomRqZX2ZuuPH4fZsvVEs33f_BCeZnWpCM78/s1600/DSCN2535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVw1vZXD7Y7OP_ho5UrXTKaVQe4AVPyuSu8rAm7wswkjHJPfzy9vSge8P6cm420R6FZjGoeRLCcIOcCt_akULfFkFWcFBN2VXyTQ97xtEomRqZX2ZuuPH4fZsvVEs33f_BCeZnWpCM78/s400/DSCN2535.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The church's modern organ</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujyQhh7OYxeyeTdbX_vdKdBFpPmgPhlsHjyvG1oUHi102Vk8QTRzj2WbXG1n5eSwban4KeGlMBGPP5Eg0DIQv_Z62o7Q15_rUGFj9tHdpq8m0fAr-KmvqUFEDXDe9GxyXuXHoeQHo1kE/s1600/DSCN2538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujyQhh7OYxeyeTdbX_vdKdBFpPmgPhlsHjyvG1oUHi102Vk8QTRzj2WbXG1n5eSwban4KeGlMBGPP5Eg0DIQv_Z62o7Q15_rUGFj9tHdpq8m0fAr-KmvqUFEDXDe9GxyXuXHoeQHo1kE/s400/DSCN2538.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">So much stained glass!!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuuw3KcyJbbP9v_5eoULb5QzE_eCkCQ_RZSuJzfZSOnwpc43Ap52RN2JOeJ_1TnCxPkaCgoc6igeYSgNVuPRfojK27qGPHNyV16xa1v9YPMWJtotld7foINwefWRmOxPXI0w0xpCmlus/s1600/DSCN2543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuuw3KcyJbbP9v_5eoULb5QzE_eCkCQ_RZSuJzfZSOnwpc43Ap52RN2JOeJ_1TnCxPkaCgoc6igeYSgNVuPRfojK27qGPHNyV16xa1v9YPMWJtotld7foINwefWRmOxPXI0w0xpCmlus/s400/DSCN2543.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Absolutely gorgeous</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMA8JDRg49DQZL2ZzxRDdy0GGf7xvz8RyUFkIHyk7mc6q9jH6Oblsx50ysP_c_HfbczsucRkoTMR7VeJVt9GxHV6TmMiN5-HSQqnAoNmqk4EqiSBp-pW7wKrHDRfwepMyC0xZJHFwnhM/s1600/DSCN2546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMA8JDRg49DQZL2ZzxRDdy0GGf7xvz8RyUFkIHyk7mc6q9jH6Oblsx50ysP_c_HfbczsucRkoTMR7VeJVt9GxHV6TmMiN5-HSQqnAoNmqk4EqiSBp-pW7wKrHDRfwepMyC0xZJHFwnhM/s400/DSCN2546.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The windows in the chapel are works by the modernist Marc Chagall</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Looking back down the nave to the beautiful Rose Window</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Next, we explored the market taking place on the square surrounding the cathedral. From fresh fish to flowers, hand-crafted cheese<span style="font-family: inherit;">s and hot cr</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">êpes, bolts of fabric and antique books, you could find pretty much everything for sale here. After grabbing a quick snack, we walked o<span style="font-family: inherit;">ver to the Mus</span></span></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">ée de la Cour d'Or, a museum of the history of Metz. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Meike and her boyfriend Simon enjoying some fresh-baked pretzels from the market</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The fa<span style="line-height: 107%;">ç</span>ade of the cathedral looms over the market</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fresh squash, yum!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">As I had said, Metz has been inhabited for nearly 3000 years, and thus has a lot of history for visitors to explore. It began as a Celtic settlement inhabited by the Mediomatrici tribe, was later incorporated into the Roman Empire under the name Divodorum, got renamed Mettis under the Franks and later became Metz. Former residence of the Merovingian kings of Austrasia, the city became a part of the Holy Roman Empire and was passed back to the Kings of France in 1552. More recently, the city fell under German control during World War I, after which it returned to France, only to later be annexed by the Third Reich during World War II. Finally, in 1944, the US Army attacked the German-controlled city, freeing it and returning it to French control. Needless to say, the history of Lorraine is very complicated and has been influenced by many cultures throughout the centuries.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gargoyles on the cathedral doing their gargly downspout job</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">La Cour d'Or does a great job highlighting Metz's diverse past, leading visitors chronologically through exhibits showcasing everything from Roman baths and graves, to medieval weaponry and household goods, architectural remnants from all eras, and even rooms filled with paintings from the Renaissance through modern day. I highly recommend this museum to any history buff!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5kgwgKwV2st74ZJ4kiCOQWs6boaHZuyvlMtLJM-c4T5zSz8gat4F-_z2YlFXfsaZ-fgmLP8NpSYch2z6y2-wVWLG8LA5mTpSuSOVzUVPypVWo7Mns1bpl2DvadAShB-D2dLY1buPrco/s1600/2013-10-05+10.53.54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5kgwgKwV2st74ZJ4kiCOQWs6boaHZuyvlMtLJM-c4T5zSz8gat4F-_z2YlFXfsaZ-fgmLP8NpSYch2z6y2-wVWLG8LA5mTpSuSOVzUVPypVWo7Mns1bpl2DvadAShB-D2dLY1buPrco/s400/2013-10-05+10.53.54.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Two Romans, buried together with some weapons and other personal effects - the graves have been left where they were discovered, so while you're walking along through the museum, every once in a while you'll see a glass pane on the floor exposing the graves discovered below!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Extensive remains of a large Roman thermal bath house were excavated next to the museum when they were trying to build an addition, thus the museum has left the ruins intact and constructed exhibits all around them - cool!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">After grabbing some delicious pizza for lunch at a Mediterranean restaurant, the rain had finally stopped and we trekked over to see la Porte des Allemands (literally "the Germans' gateway"). Once part of the Medieval ramparts enclosing Metz, the fortified bridge and gateway to the city spans the Seille river and has multiple towers, crenelations and <i><span style="font-family: inherit;">meurtri</span></i></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">è</span></i></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">res</span></i> (slit-like windows through which arrows could be fired, literally "murderers"), all key to defending the city from invaders. Some parts of the monument were closed for renovations, but the parts we were able to explore were quite impressive.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike and I in front of La Porte des Allemands</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">La Seille River running under the Porte des Allemands</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">All in all, Metz is a really lively town (much better than Forbach!) with lots of history, cultural events, restaurants and shopping, so I have a feeling Meike and I will be back quite often to get our dose of excitement every now and again! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Quick side note: apparently people from Forbach go to Metz quite often - and this was quite the source of confusion for me when I first arrived...I learned the hard way that "Metz" isn't pronounced the same in French as it is in English. In English (and in German for that matter), we pronounce it just as it sounds : METZ. But in French, it's pronounced MESS. Everyone was always saying "je vais </span>à Metz" (I'm going to Metz), but I thought they were meaning to say "je vais à la messe" (I'm going to Mass) and being lazy by leaving out a word, which is common in French. I was surprised that the people of Forbach were so holy and talked about going to church so very often...only to realize they just go to Metz when they're bored - whoops!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Random flash-mob dancing to Daft Punk's "Get Lucky" in front of the train station in Metz</span></td></tr>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com5Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-39016491896350721002013-10-05T17:29:00.000-04:002013-10-05T17:29:25.535-04:00First Days in Forbach<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;">Thankfully Eric, Kasey and I had gained some sort of super-human strength from lugging all of our bags throughout the city, because I enlisted them to help me one last time – I needed to maneuver my two suitcases and overstuffed computer bag from our 5</span><sup style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;">th</sup><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"> floor apartment down into the bowels of the metro, across the city and onto my awaiting train to Forbach. It’s a good thing I decided to take the train on Sunday morning, because not too much is open in France on Sundays, and therefore there aren't too many people out and about crowding the metro. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">With some more blood, sweat and tears (ok, maybe just sweat!) we made it to Gare de l’Est, the train station in which you board trains that are headed eastbound. After boarding the train and saying my good-byes, I had a nerve-wracking 1:40 ride to my new home in Forbach. The train I took is part of the French TGV system – meaning <i>train de grande vitesse</i>, or simply “high-speed train.” And let me tell you, it goes so fast!! The computer screen in my car told me that we were cruising along at speeds topping out at 310 kilometers/hour (nearly 195 mph!) – normally this journey would take between 3 ½ to 4 hours by car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Welcome to Forbach!<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As I struggled to the door of the train with my luggage, two nice Frenchies offered to help take them off the train for me – there is a God! They kind of laughed at me because I had so much stuff with me, but wished me good luck as I rolled away into the station. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">BUSTED!!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">[Ok, “rolled away” isn't entirely accurate because one of the wheels on one suitcase cracked in half and no longer rolled, and the whole wheel casing on the other suitcase snapped into 3 pieces and was hanging on by a thread…but needless to say I made it inside.]</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Up to this point I had been a little unnerved because I hadn't successfully been able to firm up a plan with my contact person at the school where I’d be working, didn't have a working cellphone or WiFi connection to check my email, and basically was stepping into no-man’s land with 150 pounds of baggage and a giant knot in my stomach. But within seconds, a man approached me to ask if I was Rachael, the English teaching assistant (What gave it away? The look of terror on my face?!), and it was indeed my contact person, Clément, an English teacher at the school. He helped load my bags into his car and we headed off into the city of Forbach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had been under the impression that I was going to be able to get the keys to my apartment at the school that afternoon and would be able to move in that day – and quite honestly, I was looking forward to laying down and de-stressing a bit! Unfortunately, or so I thought at the time, no one works in the school’s office on Sunday, so I was out of luck. Fortunately, Clément had arranged for me to spend the night at his friend Doris’ house and told me we’d be able to get into the apartment the next afternoon. Tha</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">t kind of burst my bubble because my first thought was about how I’d have to open up and rifle through my suitcases AGAIN to find clothes for the next day, then repack and move one more time. Thankfully I was just tired and being momentarily selfish, because the day turned out great.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Clément took me to a little café on a sunshiny terrace where we spent an hour or so talking about where I was from, what I studied in college, etc. I’m pretty sure that the little bit of caffeine I ingested at that point was all that was keeping me awake! We then went for a preliminary stroll down the main drag of Forbach (strolling: a common theme of life in France), and again, not much was open because it was a Sunday, but we ended up at a Moroccan restaurant for lunch. Lamb kebabs, steaming hot couscous and a bowl full of roasted veggies really hit the spot! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mining monument in downtown Forbach</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Re-energized, Clément drove me around the rest of Forbach and some of the surrounding towns like Stiring-Wendel to show me all the buildings that had been constructed to house the coal miners who worked in this area. I learned that there were certain types of lodging for regular workers and fancier ones for foremen and their families. Tragically, the mines all closed about 10 years ago, and as people need to work to survive, Forbach and the surrounding communities saw a massive population decline as people moved away to find work; the region consequently fell into economic turmoil. It’s not all bad though – many of the once-abandoned mining villages are being refurbished and lived in, and the region is slowly starting to climb out of its deep recession. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Memorial to the Puits Simon catastrophe in 1985</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">During our drive, we stopped at a memorial to the 1985 tragedy in the Puits Simon (</span><i style="font-family: inherit;">puits</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> meaning “mine”). Apparently there had been an explosion of firedamp, a mixture of gases found in mines (including methane), which caused part of the mine to collapse, crushing 19 miners and asphyxiating 3 more as they tried to escape. Clément explained that his father had worked in the local mines and re-emphasized just how dangerous that line of work can be. That being said, the French government recognizes the risks involved in mining and does provide benefits to miners and their families, such as extremely low-cost (if not free) housing, medical coverage, free utilities, etc. Some of the metalwork which served to bring coal up out of the mines has been left still standing, so the landscape in this area is interesting. When you look around you see these big metallic skeletons looming over the horizon, serving as a painful reminder of the tragedies (both in terms of lives lost and economic decline) which have fallen on this once-booming industrial area. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Abandoned mining infrastructure, as seen from my bedroom window</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On a happier note, the German city of Saarbrücken (Sarrebruck, in French), which lies just over the German border and touches Forbach, is alive and thriving – and was also our next destination. I thought it was pretty cool that I had just arrived in my new city and was already taking a trip abroad for the afternoon! Like Forbach, a good chunk of Saarbrücken was destroyed during World War II, so the city is split between the historic district (that which survived the war, most of it from the 18</span><sup style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 14px;">th</sup><span style="font-family: inherit;"> century) and the modern district (all circa 1950). We walked around the shopping district, spent an hour or so having drinks and people-watching in one of the main squares, and then walked up to the historic district to get some cool views of the city. The city has museums, malls, movie theaters and other cultural attractions – many of which Forbach is lacking – and it’s nice to know that there’s a bus route from Forbach to Saarbrücken that only takes 20 minutes! Clément told me that pretty much everyone in this area of Germany speaks both German and French (and many of them also speak English), so I should have no problem communicating with them whenever I choose to visit. Also of note: cosmetics and household items are cheaper here due to differences in tax systems, and both clothes and shoe sizes are one size larger than their French equivalent. You learn something every day!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">View from a caf<span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">é</span> in one of Saarbr<span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">ü</span>cken's main squares</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Saarbr<span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">ücken's City Hall</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjampNNFHSDWjMYRiaxWEfZaeQ01YFu_wN0WHqupwlk0X3M8oqTEPwk_Fz5V4OU-ZuLvh_fzhlqDxwY-5HMINoB24T_YsLwSHrqgdAghHnjJmtNQwc8atA7G23OOgYVkdEwh-1mbHT3GY/s1600/DSCN2452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjampNNFHSDWjMYRiaxWEfZaeQ01YFu_wN0WHqupwlk0X3M8oqTEPwk_Fz5V4OU-ZuLvh_fzhlqDxwY-5HMINoB24T_YsLwSHrqgdAghHnjJmtNQwc8atA7G23OOgYVkdEwh-1mbHT3GY/s400/DSCN2452.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Historisches Museum Saar - the Museum of the History of the Saarland, on my to-do list!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">View of tour boats on the Saar River</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Saar River</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">A view into modern downtown Saarbr<span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">ücken</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcR8bDnW9QaqHW4O29uzUaQLxN5SBNeolRILlupaNa1jP0le8e55v3mc-Js2_H-Tzt2No_5GP7DR6vhbc6yyRnQzqQxyP3xxybg-mJr7__QnIzc2uDUkNZ1FbqOti7yAkRDjb-tPF2bk/s1600/DSCN2457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcR8bDnW9QaqHW4O29uzUaQLxN5SBNeolRILlupaNa1jP0le8e55v3mc-Js2_H-Tzt2No_5GP7DR6vhbc6yyRnQzqQxyP3xxybg-mJr7__QnIzc2uDUkNZ1FbqOti7yAkRDjb-tPF2bk/s400/DSCN2457.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pretty petunias on the bridge over the Saar</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Upon returning to France, we met up with Doris, a sweet, peppy and very welcoming </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">dame d’un certaine âge</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> (the polite way of referring to an older woman) at whose home I’d be spending the evening. The three of us went out to a restaurant specializing in the regional cuisine of Alsace-Lorraine, my new home, and we each enjoyed a mouth-watering <i>flammekueche gratinée</i> (or </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">flamm’</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> as it’s commonly referred to), paired with a local pinot grigio. Flammekueche is essentially a puffy thin-crust pizza with a base of cream sauce, topped with ham and emmental (pretty much Swiss cheese). A delicious end to an interesting day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was nice to sleep in the next morning, and I awoke to a spread of all the donuts, baguettes, jams and butter that you could ever imagine! Clément arrived shortly afterwards to pick me up and finally take me to my apartment. I got to meet a few of the English teachers in the teachers’ room, and then we headed off to have lunch at the school’s cafeteria. Quite impressive, if you ask me! No pizza and French fries here – we dined on pork roast, au gratin potatoes, salad, bread, cheese and yogurt. And the best part? They have wine in the teachers’ dining room! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was quite impressed with it all and later found out that it only costs me 3,15€ to eat here (under $4.20!), so I consequently pre-paid for 10 meals so I can swipe into the caf for lunch or dinner anytime I don’t feel like cooking. Conveniently located 100 feet from the entrance to my building, this French high school’s dining hall beats out any public school lunch I've ever eaten in the US.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At 2 pm it was finally time to bring all my bags upstairs and cautiously open the door to my apartment... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Located on the 4<sup>th</sup> floor (5<sup>th</sup> floor in the US) and with no elevator, I put my muscles to good use once again and got all my bags into my new home with Clément’s help. I’m hoping this will be the last time I have to move that amount of bags until I head home in May! Much bigger and much more well-furnished than I had been envisioning (especially after moving into a jail cell-like room when I was a freshman in college), I was pleasantly surprised and will let the pictures I took do the talking…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg00JW_bGyipSxd1wyRurbH69YLQWdu0RnPkXMCTP6Mbdrmw1vFrwON_yh7n5YVqQzGd7Wo3rR8vTE0780mAJZkCr4oTeeNuPbL3YMo2oti3FyW6JesV4Py7m3bnOTd0rsS8-nVs8apg-M/s1600/DSCN2484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg00JW_bGyipSxd1wyRurbH69YLQWdu0RnPkXMCTP6Mbdrmw1vFrwON_yh7n5YVqQzGd7Wo3rR8vTE0780mAJZkCr4oTeeNuPbL3YMo2oti3FyW6JesV4Py7m3bnOTd0rsS8-nVs8apg-M/s400/DSCN2484.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our door! Complete with working doorbell</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="line-height: 115%; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1EUffhA6scRWrewEFiFqHRc-yu_1IbZR2BlBs_EF2jnLPiqk5HkPLJssPjDpJ8s2MbS-LGxa1nZVjeLw_74Z-4jDtSqveLIAFjWAHCNBbVg41OmZSmYIECa0_uCo-XXopJTWTT9sxHbY/s1600/DSCN2487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1EUffhA6scRWrewEFiFqHRc-yu_1IbZR2BlBs_EF2jnLPiqk5HkPLJssPjDpJ8s2MbS-LGxa1nZVjeLw_74Z-4jDtSqveLIAFjWAHCNBbVg41OmZSmYIECa0_uCo-XXopJTWTT9sxHbY/s400/DSCN2487.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our living room/dining room/kitchen area</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="line-height: 115%; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1eeNn7zuDI6Bbf8ljSkQRkCjndtjaURDQS3fz7Q3xPePn3RGNFYeh_V-xekoGUSZ_y5uhuDbLSumHPPUCKa7vSAmMtb6PkxpiBGkeYdRv2zPnf1obyQelf7zwxL9TQgRWuJymJmf4D30/s1600/DSCN2486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1eeNn7zuDI6Bbf8ljSkQRkCjndtjaURDQS3fz7Q3xPePn3RGNFYeh_V-xekoGUSZ_y5uhuDbLSumHPPUCKa7vSAmMtb6PkxpiBGkeYdRv2zPnf1obyQelf7zwxL9TQgRWuJymJmf4D30/s400/DSCN2486.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Living room view into WC and my room</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiEtwZb59zChjIDzAVW95lsclpwWnLfU2d7OruJrsGJrEr-dhyphenhyphenf3yWmRCk_A8H7omQipknqbSarb3n7ATxRi6cESgZmhF0Pb1A1T38VJMhLaXWEFjhz3sO83pT39hEk2MEdoLysTUd1m4/s1600/DSCN2488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiEtwZb59zChjIDzAVW95lsclpwWnLfU2d7OruJrsGJrEr-dhyphenhyphenf3yWmRCk_A8H7omQipknqbSarb3n7ATxRi6cESgZmhF0Pb1A1T38VJMhLaXWEFjhz3sO83pT39hEk2MEdoLysTUd1m4/s400/DSCN2488.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">More of the common room</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="line-height: 115%; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDeNNJO6_44x59h4bh2n9MdhwPTQtp6ISjqk-5eG82H60R0knWW0w4JRp3SaTRqrhXGOon-vu8fIPUdflbBor4sENI3U0DboYty1AW-vWIiHlO5Nryfb7pfHavoLT8Xv30FuIZVnIxEp0/s1600/DSCN2493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDeNNJO6_44x59h4bh2n9MdhwPTQtp6ISjqk-5eG82H60R0knWW0w4JRp3SaTRqrhXGOon-vu8fIPUdflbBor4sENI3U0DboYty1AW-vWIiHlO5Nryfb7pfHavoLT8Xv30FuIZVnIxEp0/s400/DSCN2493.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">My armoire, which is totally jam-packed!</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="line-height: 115%; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHV-UW2F55hWYw7SjjktiFkFXgH54eeJ4bdM9PTMmdfLXmYBdbggGXxEuOIkucdlb-3xFChWP-zqs91Bm-Ea7XqxsFw-eGBF743Pd8LsxYMF0wjP_DfzSvh2D0sHKLu4-O_6FALN9H6IE/s1600/DSCN2489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHV-UW2F55hWYw7SjjktiFkFXgH54eeJ4bdM9PTMmdfLXmYBdbggGXxEuOIkucdlb-3xFChWP-zqs91Bm-Ea7XqxsFw-eGBF743Pd8LsxYMF0wjP_DfzSvh2D0sHKLu4-O_6FALN9H6IE/s400/DSCN2489.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">My desk area, slowly but surely getting more decorated</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="line-height: 115%; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazy9CshJi0zNU_RpzJ6D06uz8cEa0ro9R4qw16fT09RrVI4DYUj9GmbZmF38k5FEFDXpcumShLfkxXNt0JWaDE6Jj3ikLcZ5XXutuIKMz3NNEXToGZJORdsS6TZ-_dBrjh4qnQa6CKS0/s1600/DSCN2490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazy9CshJi0zNU_RpzJ6D06uz8cEa0ro9R4qw16fT09RrVI4DYUj9GmbZmF38k5FEFDXpcumShLfkxXNt0JWaDE6Jj3ikLcZ5XXutuIKMz3NNEXToGZJORdsS6TZ-_dBrjh4qnQa6CKS0/s400/DSCN2490.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">My bed</span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2umPzoTEx2YK062k7bcFcR-RjZ8bk1GS2HfaPKX_-U6wlnFEz6i7i-oTqkFOL2BTpCnYPia7KA1ziF2rSpKwhe-lQvEKzIyZSicunZK2uIiyBqE1gfc2R7mmatyK8v7Cn12xu6UDiyU/s1600/2013-09-24+21.18.06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2umPzoTEx2YK062k7bcFcR-RjZ8bk1GS2HfaPKX_-U6wlnFEz6i7i-oTqkFOL2BTpCnYPia7KA1ziF2rSpKwhe-lQvEKzIyZSicunZK2uIiyBqE1gfc2R7mmatyK8v7Cn12xu6UDiyU/s400/2013-09-24+21.18.06.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">My cute little owl from Paris is feeling right at home in my new room!</span></td></tr>
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<div style="line-height: normal; text-align: start;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5HftTq16SBLt8h5K-TXyPwDjiOjPHLBcNZ8oRCNFgZWx1mnBC98REGl5QzlnWa-Q5CKB897OEss4TK0SVgBBVjgEJDi4YxAzi5t5uKNjkGDOitfOyhMDP9R9a0mHq2HCCSuU9FSky-MM/s1600/DSCN2469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5HftTq16SBLt8h5K-TXyPwDjiOjPHLBcNZ8oRCNFgZWx1mnBC98REGl5QzlnWa-Q5CKB897OEss4TK0SVgBBVjgEJDi4YxAzi5t5uKNjkGDOitfOyhMDP9R9a0mHq2HCCSuU9FSky-MM/s400/DSCN2469.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The view from one of my windows...</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwtb-OY8xqbdhoCAKZRsPCGMmswepVY6s7TWq-luNmmKMO0VXNzcn9j_FFDQc26-6e761vbGO5Edm0et8ewIpA72DEiKjiu61-mheRZQfMNFtBrcZkIeb9EW2rPf7YdNuzU8yl3GhgyKc/s1600/DSCN2470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwtb-OY8xqbdhoCAKZRsPCGMmswepVY6s7TWq-luNmmKMO0VXNzcn9j_FFDQc26-6e761vbGO5Edm0et8ewIpA72DEiKjiu61-mheRZQfMNFtBrcZkIeb9EW2rPf7YdNuzU8yl3GhgyKc/s400/DSCN2470.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">...and the view from the other window (the smoke rising in the background is in Germany)</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dyfQJV5VSSXs39-5GZrHWd3OX29xuvxpwLKbZfavuDdt_bmJPQWpKygXtQL2xF3IagOj8FPcmIDyuJxfQCboKvEc2JQXwV20JM0Es36FSndwwa0lbVXF9zWRs76a4lXHCXjcDLWguts/s1600/DSCN2510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dyfQJV5VSSXs39-5GZrHWd3OX29xuvxpwLKbZfavuDdt_bmJPQWpKygXtQL2xF3IagOj8FPcmIDyuJxfQCboKvEc2JQXwV20JM0Es36FSndwwa0lbVXF9zWRs76a4lXHCXjcDLWguts/s400/DSCN2510.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our cute little bathroom with a shower curtain which reminds me of the Paris metro map...</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2CEIqgSEK6u7XuH-wieNEIV0CKTxOoobtSXYFlwWGmRPwKXFCo4-zXARoShywrljEVnDR0cQIyEFeVquWI3Sb4IFCuLkkTrb2hglRk3HJrK9809ioUmNCYhfPgETmW8JHXbEReMkFZE/s1600/DSCN2472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2CEIqgSEK6u7XuH-wieNEIV0CKTxOoobtSXYFlwWGmRPwKXFCo4-zXARoShywrljEVnDR0cQIyEFeVquWI3Sb4IFCuLkkTrb2hglRk3HJrK9809ioUmNCYhfPgETmW8JHXbEReMkFZE/s400/DSCN2472.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our pantry was pretty well-stocked when we got here</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzeDccztIRsYV1QFeAKX84_Y5zAvK2SvXR5IF580xxy_B90upEa7zW7_pCEJZ1pd7JLOq743Is-3CCVddp1QoQxsSUfU3bH4V-meh7oAueD2z8DhM_6gEq8F7Tt5J9izwo3OOienZvdwA/s1600/DSCN2477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzeDccztIRsYV1QFeAKX84_Y5zAvK2SvXR5IF580xxy_B90upEa7zW7_pCEJZ1pd7JLOq743Is-3CCVddp1QoQxsSUfU3bH4V-meh7oAueD2z8DhM_6gEq8F7Tt5J9izwo3OOienZvdwA/s400/DSCN2477.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our oven/stovetop, view into the hallway with a closet, leading to the bathroom and spare bedroom</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZ6_V-37M4NOVzhQwisZCQHyG9NzBNvBrQwgpkGTvQBX6lkUM5gp_HFSAFw50zIMP6E-VZOTThxzGidYjTxsD3K10lvEvPZnxaklU_GaK8ibJrbEZSXQr42JZkVIuEwTJJO3XciGqH1k/s1600/DSCN2461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZ6_V-37M4NOVzhQwisZCQHyG9NzBNvBrQwgpkGTvQBX6lkUM5gp_HFSAFw50zIMP6E-VZOTThxzGidYjTxsD3K10lvEvPZnxaklU_GaK8ibJrbEZSXQr42JZkVIuEwTJJO3XciGqH1k/s400/DSCN2461.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Spare bedroom! Come visit us!</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMc6nFNjIIRHHv2H_x1E7R6rRBnlG5BtYmWWQ5epiERC02j30jiriXBltPj4i4ROGf2X6-lF5CLC9KN7-wmdmsdM0SJX7yDFH23KonDCfDr-qJkGP_PwW4oEPG6IVfRm1EXFjDBcFOvjM/s1600/DSCN2462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMc6nFNjIIRHHv2H_x1E7R6rRBnlG5BtYmWWQ5epiERC02j30jiriXBltPj4i4ROGf2X6-lF5CLC9KN7-wmdmsdM0SJX7yDFH23KonDCfDr-qJkGP_PwW4oEPG6IVfRm1EXFjDBcFOvjM/s400/DSCN2462.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meike's room - although it looks much better now that she's here and decorated it!</span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"> </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After a quick trip to Super U (the French version of Big Y?) to stock up on food and buy some bedding, I settled in for an evening of finally unpacking all my suitcases and setting up my new home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The rest of the week was pretty uneventful - I had a lot of stressful bureaucratic stuff to get done, and I needed to work on setting up my cute little apartment! The best part about living at the school is that it doesn't cost me anything - no rent, no utilities - I just had to pay an 80€ deposit in case of damage to the apartment, pretty sweet deal if you ask me! I live in the old dormitory building at the school in the equivalent of what would be the RA suite. There is a computer lab and one French classroom on the lower floors of the building, and then there's just one apartment each on the second, third and fourth floors. I've yet to see who lives in the two apartments below us, but hopefully we'll meet them someday!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Janitors from the school supposedly "cleaned" the apartment before I arrived, but I'm not quite sure whose cleanliness standards they were trying to meet, because the place was pretty dirty when I got there! So me and Monsieur Propre (the French version of Mr Clean! and yes, he's bald and has an earring here in France, too) got to know each other pretty well, and with a little elbow grease and a grungy old mop I found laying around I got the place up to snuff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then, I met up with Clément and we ventured off to Orange, a phone/internet/cable provider, in order to get me set up with all of the above. Let me tell you, trying to negotiate technological terms and contracts in a foreign language is a bit daunting - especially when you're less-than-literate in all that nonsense in English to begin with! Thankfully the guy there was wicked nice and good at explaining it all in layman's terms, so I walked out of there with a pretty great set-up: I got cable, wireless internet (le wifi, pronounced <i>wee-fee</i>, en français), and a landline phone (including unlimited calls to the USA, France, and 98 other countries) for 42€ per month - which I split with my roommate - so I only end up paying $25 a month for all that! He handed me a bag containing the cable and internet boxes I needed to hook up and wished me good luck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOC2JpDC304lXVhJVvPna45O0nuDPVmz_GYehXW5FtZW3cxHWBfC6-pt4ggLQtWrF4Mx8CQyBczng7owwN4rC_1Z8pBDb_KFsgYzOJ9X25tUEu3DQK6IAufzjZgyMmJdUyMwmxylWuiA/s1600/2013-09-24+18.16.16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOC2JpDC304lXVhJVvPna45O0nuDPVmz_GYehXW5FtZW3cxHWBfC6-pt4ggLQtWrF4Mx8CQyBczng7owwN4rC_1Z8pBDb_KFsgYzOJ9X25tUEu3DQK6IAufzjZgyMmJdUyMwmxylWuiA/s400/2013-09-24+18.16.16.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Technology: go!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thankfully, after some wine, color-coded directions for dummies and a bit of head scratching, everything was hooked up and looked just like the diagrams in the manuals - success? Maybe. I honestly had no idea if it was connected properly because the services weren't set to be activated for 3 more days, so I crossed my fingers and waited...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On Wednesday I ventured back to Orange to try to sort out a cell phone plan for myself - one can only take so much stress in one day! Thankfully I was waited on by the same nice guy who had helped me out the day before - he even remember I was Mademoiselle White! I ended up with a Samsung Galaxy Trend, which is pretty similar to the Samsung Stratosphere that I had back at home, and for 20€ per month I get unlimited calls, texts and picture messages to anyone in France, as well as 150 megabytes of internet - which doesn't hold a candle to the 4 gigabytes of data I have back in the US...but at least I can use apps and the internet on my phone over wifi while I'm in my apartment. I decided to splurge a bit on my phone and opted for a smartphone - since I don't have to worry about paying rent, I figured why not treat myself? I had now left the Stone Age and was well on my way to being fully re-connected with the modern world! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some people say it's nice to take a break from technology, not needing to worry about getting text messages and emails every 15 seconds, and not yearning to log onto Facebook just one more time to make sure you aren't missing out on the next twerking scandal or shocking break-up...and I have to admit that for the first couple of days that was great. But after a week and a half of living in a foreign land with very limited means to contact anyone back home or even look up directions to the nearest grocery store, my technology cleanse was really getting to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Finally, on Thursday afternoon, I got a bit of a diversion when my roommate Meike (pronounced MY-kuh) arrived from Germany! She is a student at the University of Stuttgart who will be spending her time in France working as the German teaching assistant, both here at Lycée Jean Moulin and at the high school in neighboring Behren-les-Forbach. I helped her unload her car (a Ford Fiesta, imagine that!) and bring all of her bags up to our apartment...my super-human ability for hauling luggage was once again put to good use! We did some quick errands and I was able to show her how to get to the grocery store and to the main street in town - that was as much exploring as I had been previously willing to do without a map or internet! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">My roommate, Meike!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Friday morning, hallelujah! The internet/TV/phone began to work! This was proof that all of our boxes were properly connected, and while it may seem like a small victory, I was so overly relieved to be once again connected to the rest of the world.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Since Meike only lives a couple hours away in Germany, it's great that she drove here, because as we all know, doing errands is much easier when you can tote your heavy bags around in a car instead of dragging them down the sidewalk! After a delicious lunch of Turkish kebab downtown, we ventured over to Cora together (the closest thing I can imagine to the French version of Super Walmart) to stock up on some food and load up the car with more household supplies. It's nice peace of mind knowing that Meike has her car here and thus we are not trapped in this pretty sleepy town relying solely on buses or the train for the whole school year - we're looking forward to exploring the Lorraine region of France!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Saturday we went on a little hike up to the Schlossberg in Forbach - I learned that means "hill with a castle" in German. Conveniently located right behind our school, the ruins of the castle sit perched atop a hill in the middle of a tranquil park. We took a nice stroll through the paths in the forest which spiral up the hill towards the ruins and admired the scenery of the town sprawling away from us far below as we climbed.</span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtb6mTPWr2Za1AHmuTpU-RzcOMgx6gniZXF_GyDrC9e2saHSPBDVM9snYDL00TR32CeKa1oVZIESjTpk9MkCmM9XZQyBJMMHJ5xJeK77k7iGvQajock0G2ROg6mqVBaTgUT4zRkjKjB20/s1600/DSCN2508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtb6mTPWr2Za1AHmuTpU-RzcOMgx6gniZXF_GyDrC9e2saHSPBDVM9snYDL00TR32CeKa1oVZIESjTpk9MkCmM9XZQyBJMMHJ5xJeK77k7iGvQajock0G2ROg6mqVBaTgUT4zRkjKjB20/s400/DSCN2508.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Entrance to Parc Schlossberg</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">First mentioned in 1257 AD, the castle grounds included a square dungeon (tower), a palace, and a surrounding defensive rampart. The famous Cardinal Richelieu ordered the leveling of the castle in 1634 during the Thirty Years' War as revenge for the insubordination of the Prince of Lorraine, who was a member of the Holy Roman Empire, against Louis XIII. During the French Revolution the remains of the castle, along with a few newly constructed fortified buildings, then became known as <i>la Montagne de Fraternit</i></span><i>é</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> (the "Mountain of Brotherhood"). All of these structures and the surrounding land were later purchased by a rich industrial baron named Gustave Adt in 1886, who funded vast excavations of the ruins. Adt continued on to restore the site, creating a park around the castle and reconstructing the 28 meter (92 ft) tall tower which stands as a symbol of the city today. Unfortunately t</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">he tower (and most of Forbach itself, for that matter) was badly damaged during the siege of Forbach at the end of World War II, but the city scraped up funds to completely restore it once again in 1951. Visitors to the Parc Schlossberg today can stroll through vast expanses of forest, picnic in the fields, enjoy fountains and flowers in the garden, and hike up to the top of the hill to explore the grounds surrounding the tower. The tower is open occasionally for tours, so a return visit is on our to-do list!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Check out those guns!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6InxNq0NfEIrVMsuvwF9lqil84SaG0kxVT6p5ZG7jAY1xcqqVTmhyphenhyphenMFRcO7ZHac0iyVlXC4fmB4M5qsTv8oYu4q1yn1u09NIxD-6x1aGF4QXSO6dz0_GvYtj6PBhnAW5-IvxE_Tydanw/s1600/DSCN2498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6InxNq0NfEIrVMsuvwF9lqil84SaG0kxVT6p5ZG7jAY1xcqqVTmhyphenhyphenMFRcO7ZHac0iyVlXC4fmB4M5qsTv8oYu4q1yn1u09NIxD-6x1aGF4QXSO6dz0_GvYtj6PBhnAW5-IvxE_Tydanw/s400/DSCN2498.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">View of Forbach from halfway up the Schlossberg</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ancient fortifications of the Schlossberg</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimceuxOO64T9J7IOn_HSNWz7iO2MlvmpgGaLxr1D7tTUpHWHaPAddDPWbAD7qDGtDCp5yQ8-seHBvKwS06UrtfFVvjWuy1xOwKH_RLu6aPrh9l-4KLdA6kjW4AloJZd-gU46AADAxQ61E/s1600/DSCN2504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimceuxOO64T9J7IOn_HSNWz7iO2MlvmpgGaLxr1D7tTUpHWHaPAddDPWbAD7qDGtDCp5yQ8-seHBvKwS06UrtfFVvjWuy1xOwKH_RLu6aPrh9l-4KLdA6kjW4AloJZd-gU46AADAxQ61E/s400/DSCN2504.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">The reconstructed tower atop the hill, the symbol of Forbach</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTN40qK3WdshhJ7kG3qJuFnF9sH3rvYilc26wKwrZtBol-bJk2gBZA6DMaP4npju-raaC75jRRYQNt7t5GSLGeSH0X9g0h9bYXc2AUs2rKAQgFS7zNLW_Vr0zsEa4STwZ4osKJWJjhuco/s1600/DSCN2506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTN40qK3WdshhJ7kG3qJuFnF9sH3rvYilc26wKwrZtBol-bJk2gBZA6DMaP4npju-raaC75jRRYQNt7t5GSLGeSH0X9g0h9bYXc2AUs2rKAQgFS7zNLW_Vr0zsEa4STwZ4osKJWJjhuco/s400/DSCN2506.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bonjour!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was happy to find a restaurant serving moules-frites not too far from my school! Essentially a large pot of mussels served with a plate of fries, I developed an appreciation for this dish during my stay in Paris - these were cooked in a sauce of cream, bacon and onions...mmm! We're lucky to have a kitchen in our apartment, equipped with a small oven and stovetop, so Meike and I have been cooking up a storm lately. So far we've made pizza (with dough from scratch!), baked a flan, and prepared a delicious dinner of turkey cutlets, rice, salad and green beans. I love to cook, and it definitely beats paying money to eat out all the time, so I'm looking forward to more adventures in <i>haute cuisine</i>!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is a third teaching assistant in Forbach who lives and works at the Blaise Pascal high school on the other side of town - his name is Rudi and he's from the UK. We invited him over to hang out the other night and had fun getting to know each other and chatting about where the heck we'll have to go in order to find some excitement around this place! </span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrXEM727uTI0RURVOIHnLtsIq0nOcTObMHL93LgKbIJFxuveYIAbRVR_JcyWCcarG2UuiUam4VIc8R9AJ5e8PcDlGmwGS3eu1k31nBlArPWAY7Jd0UycIAhqZeaQ3YTkDeVgHYbFP9H8/s1600/DSCN2512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrXEM727uTI0RURVOIHnLtsIq0nOcTObMHL93LgKbIJFxuveYIAbRVR_JcyWCcarG2UuiUam4VIc8R9AJ5e8PcDlGmwGS3eu1k31nBlArPWAY7Jd0UycIAhqZeaQ3YTkDeVgHYbFP9H8/s400/DSCN2512.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rudi and Meike, representing Team Forbach with me!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thankfully I had a lot of free time during the week so I was able to catch up on some TV shows I had missed out on since I left home...namely Breaking Bad! It's by far my favorite show and as I had missed two episodes already, which led up to the series finale this past Sunday, I wanted to be caught up before hearing any spoilers online! Excellent episodes, as per usual, and boy did they tie up all the loose ends during the final show - it was a great program to look forward to every Sunday night, so now I'll have to find some new French series with which to occupy my time.</span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWes_B9Ty8IAclMvtO82c6Wq-CRufrNmvxZZ2LzqyjN4ZviTkckn5SvZTb17BUnmVYXaYYn89gHj3KuvAZVbzGJrCVneQl9qNF1KZW97l93IhAhuSutp3z_VMvdpvQdrprESkgRqtMcb0/s1600/Walter-White-fear-quote.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWes_B9Ty8IAclMvtO82c6Wq-CRufrNmvxZZ2LzqyjN4ZviTkckn5SvZTb17BUnmVYXaYYn89gHj3KuvAZVbzGJrCVneQl9qNF1KZW97l93IhAhuSutp3z_VMvdpvQdrprESkgRqtMcb0/s400/Walter-White-fear-quote.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Love this Breaking Bad quote! Walter White's words to live by</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The rest of my week was spent filling out various forms for the school (I have a veritable mountain of paperwork cluttering my desk at the moment!) and waiting for the school's secretary to draw up other documents for me, like my <i>attestation de logement</i> which confirms that I am lodged at the school, so that I could use these papers to complete other tasks, like opening a bank account and applying to the national <i>S</i></span><i>é</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>curit</i></span><i>é</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> Sociale </i>system. I've been playing the waiting game ever since I got here - all the paperwork forms a chain, so you can't complete one part without having the previous part done first - but it's been frustrating since none of the school officials seem to be in too much of a hurry to get anything accomplished. I have a lot on my plate at the moment, but my hands are essentially tied until they pick up the slack! Hopefully I'll be able to report that my paperwork has been sorted out in the not-too-distant future!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>La Salle des Profs</i> (Teachers' Room) in the school where I work</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPxZubCh-EfWJ4_YlellvprSyrZf2FaeZ6boCylNesL0-B2txzstDaYYdYcJV7YneBBm7djAWzdbIbyzLPThOg6mwcg8_rlI6-j7rn1HMu98c3RnFcXd6o2SIXkz90NNHyph43TcC8_A/s1600/DSCN2482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPxZubCh-EfWJ4_YlellvprSyrZf2FaeZ6boCylNesL0-B2txzstDaYYdYcJV7YneBBm7djAWzdbIbyzLPThOg6mwcg8_rlI6-j7rn1HMu98c3RnFcXd6o2SIXkz90NNHyph43TcC8_A/s400/DSCN2482.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">That's right - my very own mailbox in the teachers' room :)</span></td></tr>
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I am, however, happy to report that I now know how the laundromat in town functions. This was a slightly daunting task, as I'm used to doing my laundry either at home or at college in a laundry room attached to my dorm, so the fact that I had to lug 9 days worth of clothes down into town with me was a little annoying - can't wait to be doing that in the dead of winter! But I successfully figured out yet another part of daily living here in Forbach, and thus removed one more stressor from my list of day-to-day activities. It might seem like something small, but life runs much more smoothly once you iron out all the little bumps along the road (pardon the laundry metaphor!)... <span style="line-height: 17px;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our bread knife is sheathed in a carved wooden baguette, how French! Good for slicing bread and/or clubbing intruders.</span></td></tr>
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-43177637258444876432013-09-28T13:22:00.000-04:002013-09-28T13:22:50.574-04:00A Week in Paris (Part Deux)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uWJZciwPF1nIrqy-gtjY2nPqC54lPWY1b5nCv0TYPm_xqcditMR5yUwrngFpIzlSutyhc2aaKA_j8ga5buIU6ij_BoQO0tswuoPCrcYmL8wIWNr96HE_VQnwk_Q_hFe_hCApcc2_lpw/s1600/2013-09-20+13.20.15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uWJZciwPF1nIrqy-gtjY2nPqC54lPWY1b5nCv0TYPm_xqcditMR5yUwrngFpIzlSutyhc2aaKA_j8ga5buIU6ij_BoQO0tswuoPCrcYmL8wIWNr96HE_VQnwk_Q_hFe_hCApcc2_lpw/s400/2013-09-20+13.20.15.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Houseboats along the Seine, near Ile St-Louis</span></td></tr>
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So by now, I can safely say we've become professional <i>flâneurs</i>, those who roam around with no
particular agenda, taking in the scenery and enjoying the beautiful
weather. After a few days where there
were occasional rain showers, Thursday was absolutely gorgeous, sunny in the
low 70’s – perfect weather for more strolling!
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Hôtel de Ville, much fancier than City Hall in Westfield!</span></td></tr>
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After munching on some delicious ham, egg & cheese
crêpes in St-Michel, Kasey and I walked all the way up past Hôtel de Ville
(city hall) to the St-Paul metro stop where my parents had rented an apartment
when they visited me last time. There’s
a really cool store there called ConfoDeco where they have all sorts of
interesting home furnishings, and I found this cute ceramic owl to take with me
to Forbach as a reminder of my time spent in Paris. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Delicious pastries in the window of "Aux D<span style="text-align: start;">é</span>sirs de Manon," one of my favorite p</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">â</span><span style="font-size: small;">tisseries in Paris</span></td></tr>
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From there, we headed back to the neighborhood
where we went to classes at Sweet Briar and ended up sitting with our feet up
on a chair in the Jardin du Luxembourg, where we were consequently scolded by
an older lady who was mad that we were putting our feet where people sit…even
though she clearly didn’t look around us because everyone else was doing the
same thing! We sat basking in the
sunlight, enjoying the peace and quiet, the trickle of fountains and the
chirping of birds. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Jardin du Luxembourg, with the French Senate building in the back</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZoPD2J1xDurJZM7dVkp5MZPzw8tQes1jZSGIdIHlhIFFGIHXUv6Px8KoifxZ4H6jDSXgXfzBNXTePUnBcM2K0AAsENTrn_Ahqz1UDTQRWy1af5QyyJ1Q64iaiueG3YmzAnHlQHylGxQ/s1600/DSCN2389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZoPD2J1xDurJZM7dVkp5MZPzw8tQes1jZSGIdIHlhIFFGIHXUv6Px8KoifxZ4H6jDSXgXfzBNXTePUnBcM2K0AAsENTrn_Ahqz1UDTQRWy1af5QyyJ1Q64iaiueG3YmzAnHlQHylGxQ/s400/DSCN2389.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's hard to take bad pictures when you have such gorgeous subject matter to work with!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeji2tROb7n828TGR7wPfhYNjaAzDizVGJZzskQzyby02Eedo__8ON7hftpLlDi7geg6Fcqh8SdhSBEqX5R7dQxFeT8gWE64171ndI00sR_HBjx7drXNNlzK7WW5rPdkoI3JZ4cDmDWZY/s1600/DSCN2400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeji2tROb7n828TGR7wPfhYNjaAzDizVGJZzskQzyby02Eedo__8ON7hftpLlDi7geg6Fcqh8SdhSBEqX5R7dQxFeT8gWE64171ndI00sR_HBjx7drXNNlzK7WW5rPdkoI3JZ4cDmDWZY/s400/DSCN2400.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Enjoying a break in the sunshine</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOwlJd0mf21dafGW5VDKM5mFhe2Woi4sRVOFw1fl1uGJyJyyzanevnmelpHy9G8AOK4zjgCYzaTSQLRdTGobWoIFEeHo9p5yhdTPlUG9XIDTE3hnXfJyy8qYS4QZZTQsce8iydq6BLqg/s1600/DSCN2398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOwlJd0mf21dafGW5VDKM5mFhe2Woi4sRVOFw1fl1uGJyJyyzanevnmelpHy9G8AOK4zjgCYzaTSQLRdTGobWoIFEeHo9p5yhdTPlUG9XIDTE3hnXfJyy8qYS4QZZTQsce8iydq6BLqg/s400/DSCN2398.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Apparently this is forbidden, but just for us</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizC6_Um1izq1QeXppJb0ov1mvBK53P_MmAvOcUQda0et5EkGkUMTFmqyxscd5xz8bNm1jNC-nCafyyF_u7Ll8weBoalswRMH7SEGKm4A9nUYUQ788Lv6pRPVvipTajBzcYYKC_2-4IWdg/s1600/DSCN2402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizC6_Um1izq1QeXppJb0ov1mvBK53P_MmAvOcUQda0et5EkGkUMTFmqyxscd5xz8bNm1jNC-nCafyyF_u7Ll8weBoalswRMH7SEGKm4A9nUYUQ788Lv6pRPVvipTajBzcYYKC_2-4IWdg/s400/DSCN2402.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Beautiful flowers with Le Panth<span style="text-align: start;">éon in the background</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9uT9HlHFAj1kjn7eZGCueVERHlFAD6dqJVdE_Aejvlv2wZU6Q5BWKteYK54uv3VPX5R8JFn5nNw-rUF1tZX9KlsKPBNMvjWrJ3bvN7T2hyVDfsgtUYcdB1BUMkSaGYTsO2wzIsdl5eM/s1600/DSCN2404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9uT9HlHFAj1kjn7eZGCueVERHlFAD6dqJVdE_Aejvlv2wZU6Q5BWKteYK54uv3VPX5R8JFn5nNw-rUF1tZX9KlsKPBNMvjWrJ3bvN7T2hyVDfsgtUYcdB1BUMkSaGYTsO2wzIsdl5eM/s400/DSCN2404.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Le Panth</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">éon, getting a facelift</span></td></tr>
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I enjoyed yet another French delicacy at Les P’tites
Indécises<span style="color: red;"> </span>in the Oberkampf neighborhood: <i>parmentier de boudin noir</i>.
In layman’s terms: blood sausage!
That’s right folks, sausage filled with blood.
This dish in particular was especially delicious – a fluffy layer of
chunky mashed potatoes was topped with ground up blood sausage, smothered in a
light sauce made from apples and onions, YUM!!
It’s really a matter of mind over matter, because if you can get past
the idea of what you’re eating, you can really appreciate how great it is. That’s one of my mottoes while traveling:
step outside your comfort zone and try everything at least once, otherwise you
might miss something great! I had had <i>boudin noir</i> before and loved it, so it
was great to give it another go. And
remember, just because it’s something we don’t eat at home doesn't mean it’s
necessarily bad! Keep an open mind and
you never know what discoveries you’ll make!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91Lb6PJJYej_KiyxwBsZT6py3zJoSKDmbUwHhvDKETvF63cXVs0Hy1GCtSrScaSx_s8ePrfjYzQ666qQHBbVfI5c5zmhqvi9cR9m5cUo12qn609pSIk9rklNWQwqEY46Onm6kpLK8i7o/s1600/2013-09-19+19.49.15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91Lb6PJJYej_KiyxwBsZT6py3zJoSKDmbUwHhvDKETvF63cXVs0Hy1GCtSrScaSx_s8ePrfjYzQ666qQHBbVfI5c5zmhqvi9cR9m5cUo12qn609pSIk9rklNWQwqEY46Onm6kpLK8i7o/s400/2013-09-19+19.49.15.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My <i>parmentier de boudin noir</i>! Yum yum yum!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fANqIC3GoWlnaInrNmcIOJuQblOGr52kJIObtt7pyBQtSO79ZtTq1ldMrOW_tkBc9KB2wiQiZssTYMUiDPADGs1a_bQ8i4bhTSxrPoxF6OK1JB5V1mEzytFl28AkRJeODd76HD0wWLQ/s1600/DSCN2406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fANqIC3GoWlnaInrNmcIOJuQblOGr52kJIObtt7pyBQtSO79ZtTq1ldMrOW_tkBc9KB2wiQiZssTYMUiDPADGs1a_bQ8i4bhTSxrPoxF6OK1JB5V1mEzytFl28AkRJeODd76HD0wWLQ/s400/DSCN2406.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Strolling along the Canal St-Martin</span></td></tr>
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Next, we
walked over to the Laudrette Théâtre next to Canal St-Martin to go see a play
by the existentialist writer Jean-Paul Sartre called “Huis Clos” (“No
Exit”). This was a play I had read a
couple times for various classes in college and found really interesting; the
play’s tagline is <i>« L’enfer, c’est
les autres » </i> (“Hell is other
people”). Existentialism’s philosophy
has to do with the fact that your actions define who you are, and that
pretending you’re something other than you are is pointless; one must live life "authentically." The play is centered on 3 people who are in
the author’s version of hell: they are locked in a hotel room after they die
and stuck with each other for eternity, while they all despise each other and
can never close their eyes to go to sleep.
And while their hell lacks fire and brimstone, each person drives the
other ones crazy. It might sound strange
to those who are unfamiliar with Sartre’s work, but believe me when I say it’s
a very interesting play – this coming from someone who despises reading theater
to begin with! And to top it all off, I
had found the tickets on the French Groupon site and they only cost 9€ each
instead of the usual 19€…I remain a bargain hunter even in foreign lands!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Waiting for Huis Clos to begin</span></td></tr>
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Friday – you
guessed it, more strolling! I almost wish I had a pedometer to track how many
miles we walked throughout the course of the week. Paris is only half the size of Boston, but
I’m pretty sure we took enough steps to cover the equivalent of all its
streets! That morning I made a solo
voyage to Musée d’Orsay, home to the works of the Impressionists & a place
where I spent lots of time during my semester here. It’s a shame you can’t take pictures of the
artworks inside, because they’re simply incredible! But, there is this <i>amazing</i> site by Google, called ArtProject,
which uses its familiar street-view technology to give visitors virtual tours
of lots of the world’s museums, even providing the viewer with extreme
close-ups of the art; Musée d’Orsay happens to be featured on this site!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQ6jZbk_VjKVrrUHNsEgEoVePdg05az3B0x2rME2snCVz75OoI0qBwas7pfDnH7A0CDu5_bdv_OPxUvpyrT6u3RH2Yxak74FIxA7ZEIkrjgU92yquNLQcb8U6uXGgABsfsuipYJUFTSU/s1600/2013-09-20+12.36.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQ6jZbk_VjKVrrUHNsEgEoVePdg05az3B0x2rME2snCVz75OoI0qBwas7pfDnH7A0CDu5_bdv_OPxUvpyrT6u3RH2Yxak74FIxA7ZEIkrjgU92yquNLQcb8U6uXGgABsfsuipYJUFTSU/s400/2013-09-20+12.36.28.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Inside Mus<span style="text-align: start;">é</span>e d'Orsay, housed in a beautifully restored former train station</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Click <a href="http://www.google.com/culturalinstitute/collection/musee-dorsay-paris?museumview&projectId=art-project">here</a> to take your own virtual stroll through the museum! The first floor has
sculpture, pre-Impressionist and early-Impressionist works, while the second
floor houses post-Impressionist works, and the fifth floor shelters the magnificent
Impressionist works. Using the panel on
the left-hand side of the screen, you can select which floor to look at and
then click through on the right side of the screen to “walk” around. Really amazing stuff, I could spend all day
on this site!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY7U4Xk5_JgBmthzLDkLAQR5r4C7pLxWlJL5VaEulyOxYbQFCyM1KFWLGoRSPBuwx8LFNIFzfTgSOSMyCFw_8Z5r4dXleQITJElZfeyeBStmFsC8ARZotMTYp7DXd-Flf4FmlehLl5RfU/s1600/2013-09-20+12.33.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY7U4Xk5_JgBmthzLDkLAQR5r4C7pLxWlJL5VaEulyOxYbQFCyM1KFWLGoRSPBuwx8LFNIFzfTgSOSMyCFw_8Z5r4dXleQITJElZfeyeBStmFsC8ARZotMTYp7DXd-Flf4FmlehLl5RfU/s400/2013-09-20+12.33.31.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The window behind this clock offers amazing views of Paris</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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And, for a great example of the super-zoom feature that
belongs to lots of the collection’s more famous paintings, check out <a href="http://www.google.com/culturalinstitute/asset-viewer/dance-at-le-moulin-de-la-galette/rQEx7CtGiKE3yg?projectId=art-project">this</a>. If you roll over the smaller version of the
painting on the right side of the screen, you can move the slider to zoom
waaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy in, and then move the little box around on the smaller
painting in order to see amazing details of the real painting. With this Renoir, you can see every little
brush stroke, and even right down to the texture of the canvas in some spots.
Bravo, Google, you've outdone yourself once again!</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9doyvFcemubnQwuBfTy-4ddyGwymK70PXlNs60LN6yb3TfDkROpW6PFhn5N-AOtWu-rzgrKqt-vohqpbE192whJhLcvwMQKwAGX6sdA3CR52k2XEwGQhsSS6hY_rzCooHHTpoU86QgY/s1600/DSCN2407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9doyvFcemubnQwuBfTy-4ddyGwymK70PXlNs60LN6yb3TfDkROpW6PFhn5N-AOtWu-rzgrKqt-vohqpbE192whJhLcvwMQKwAGX6sdA3CR52k2XEwGQhsSS6hY_rzCooHHTpoU86QgY/s400/DSCN2407.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sacre-Coeur as seen from the clock window</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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We grabbed
some sandwiches on crispy baguettes and then walked over to Ile St-Louis’
famous ice cream shop, Chez Berthillon, for a refreshing afternoon treat. While their ice cream is a little pricey –
pretty sure I paid a bit more than 4€ for two scoops on a sugar cone – the
taste is to die for! A velvety scoop of
dark chocolate perched atop some salted butter caramel ice cream…<i>miam miam!</i> Buyer beware: many cafés on Ile St-Louis
advertise that they sell Berthillon’s ice cream, but don’t be fooled! Go straight to the source: it’s on the main
drag almost all the way at the island’s farthest end from Ile de la Cite, with
a brown façade on the right hand side!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-DEWSTYm8TmcdQRnU-bESj1WxQzifM9VRRx7Wek5CkLuoFzd1ZdegN2b0tiQz59bE_ZaF1diYgTAt4-0l5Fr0CM5QoI0GhfD2u9RI0655uwIjcVlNdYheHagqYwlsCtw0n2U3R_rAPg/s1600/2013-09-20+15.17.40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-DEWSTYm8TmcdQRnU-bESj1WxQzifM9VRRx7Wek5CkLuoFzd1ZdegN2b0tiQz59bE_ZaF1diYgTAt4-0l5Fr0CM5QoI0GhfD2u9RI0655uwIjcVlNdYheHagqYwlsCtw0n2U3R_rAPg/s400/2013-09-20+15.17.40.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Chez Berthillon</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Enjoying our <i>glace</i> from Berthillon’s we meandered
down along the Seine to the <i>Jardin des
Plantes</i>, Paris’ botanical gardens.
While the peak season for blooming flowers is behind us, they did have a
lovely garden full of dahlias and sunflowers, making for a picturesque
afternoon. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEier5_7EvGCFzO48CeL7i6a-lwxvJ9VSfFrCfLKuWDs7no__mzBdtKeaPGGipmCt-nKOQtuRvL_3SES7i5kekCzJeQeEUzCsWptzc-kgQjT8FhFJvRC44XyBjV29qTBeLcAaAMps1sKByo/s1600/DSCN2414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEier5_7EvGCFzO48CeL7i6a-lwxvJ9VSfFrCfLKuWDs7no__mzBdtKeaPGGipmCt-nKOQtuRvL_3SES7i5kekCzJeQeEUzCsWptzc-kgQjT8FhFJvRC44XyBjV29qTBeLcAaAMps1sKByo/s400/DSCN2414.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD47iFHBnz0a-oKKXg19bw39qxiC5cZ1aAENTok6grxU6xGh7qfGr3Eupr9zGRlsnwb3x9kGYWc75Ll0OElWfSmR-EJW3QUeiBIiXAE600WnMjwtBw-MnBiQVTdu21GewPgrWF5OeY1VA/s1600/DSCN2419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD47iFHBnz0a-oKKXg19bw39qxiC5cZ1aAENTok6grxU6xGh7qfGr3Eupr9zGRlsnwb3x9kGYWc75Ll0OElWfSmR-EJW3QUeiBIiXAE600WnMjwtBw-MnBiQVTdu21GewPgrWF5OeY1VA/s400/DSCN2419.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the Jardin des Plantes</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjSH7c6RVl-2_CBmeY5q1i2rWxQ2K-mLDcjGnxh_PYdiaBD_Ur9e3KzNN2nNXz9ZjGQBVZmVmx83JKWJrw8nbFNO8DTzXWQmq11PMVWJ0NR8W58XYHRS-tWAG__zXuPKEgHmcgVNHays/s1600/DSCN2418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjSH7c6RVl-2_CBmeY5q1i2rWxQ2K-mLDcjGnxh_PYdiaBD_Ur9e3KzNN2nNXz9ZjGQBVZmVmx83JKWJrw8nbFNO8DTzXWQmq11PMVWJ0NR8W58XYHRS-tWAG__zXuPKEgHmcgVNHays/s400/DSCN2418.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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Right around
the corner from the park is one of the city’s ancient Roman vestiges: <i>Les Arènes de Lutèce</i>. Tucked away around the block from the Jussieu
metro stop you’ll find the remains of an arena/amphitheater built to hold
15,000 people during the 1<sup>st</sup> century AD, when Paris was then the
Roman settlement of Lutetia (or Lutèce, <i>en
français</i>). Now more of a park with
free wifi access and a place where kids kick around soccer balls down on center
stage, <i>les arènes</i> aren’t the only
remnants of Antiquity still visible in Paris.
<i>Les thermes de Cluny</i>, remains
of a large bath house, are located near the St-Michel neighborhood and form
part of the Musée de Cluny, a museum highlighting works from the Middle
Ages. There’s also the <i>crypte archéologique</i> located under the
square in front of Notre-Dame – while I’ve yet to visit it, I hear that there
are excavations from Roman times as well as settlements from the Middle Ages
here…it’s definitely on my To-Do List next time I’m in town! <i> </i> <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPrD04WtDQc3cQpJXERKq364KhBVWVxZSP3Aiabk2SZpBcI_L1zH6xEPCK9n_KgXUXBoFBYaBzMQgwxkL6hv4dvWjs9qpDqRsxyGUDSMUMdNh6604Mq1mrd5X5xH1bfH0f9GUZvuXEnU/s1600/2013-09-20+16.59.37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPrD04WtDQc3cQpJXERKq364KhBVWVxZSP3Aiabk2SZpBcI_L1zH6xEPCK9n_KgXUXBoFBYaBzMQgwxkL6hv4dvWjs9qpDqRsxyGUDSMUMdNh6604Mq1mrd5X5xH1bfH0f9GUZvuXEnU/s640/2013-09-20+16.59.37.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Les Ar<span style="text-align: start;">è</span>nes de Lut<span style="text-align: start;">è</span>ce</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilUhYYnMhyphenhyphenxd2nHefCw46sdp_F77fja_f0jnHSgUNFP-vNHx-_O2aVsd5V9xP8HAc2x_-J62RdBsBgF43TvAS-mP_CXqlRwhj8Hgwvu9EMdnMFvJOstWBfWmO0HgZnemSbQBQT-QWjGD4/s1600/Thermes_de_Cluny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilUhYYnMhyphenhyphenxd2nHefCw46sdp_F77fja_f0jnHSgUNFP-vNHx-_O2aVsd5V9xP8HAc2x_-J62RdBsBgF43TvAS-mP_CXqlRwhj8Hgwvu9EMdnMFvJOstWBfWmO0HgZnemSbQBQT-QWjGD4/s400/Thermes_de_Cluny.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Part of Les Th<span style="text-align: start;">e</span>rmes de Cluny</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We decided to
save a bit of money that night by cooking at our apartment. Kasey, Eric and I concocted a gourmet feast
of chicken with sautéed peppers and onions cooked in a red pepper pesto sauce,
all served over rice, had a bottle of wine each, bread with an
expertly-selected cheese plate, and finished it all off with some cheesecake
topped with blackberry glaze. Our
apartment at 125 rue de la Glacière may not have been a 5-star restaurant, but
it worked for us!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4a-IHYLtmecsK3mMwhyphenhyphenGBaYvONL47vBmb2oZhxk4ojS3C5EYRRsIa_u3cp8DzEgq-y7K0BJpWa7E_A6peJ65g3CnBLgms4PjX9r-jWoWYVhT_tSdU6NuThe3XxfShUCPcd7tFpDD3Hj4/s1600/2013-09-20+20.41.37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4a-IHYLtmecsK3mMwhyphenhyphenGBaYvONL47vBmb2oZhxk4ojS3C5EYRRsIa_u3cp8DzEgq-y7K0BJpWa7E_A6peJ65g3CnBLgms4PjX9r-jWoWYVhT_tSdU6NuThe3XxfShUCPcd7tFpDD3Hj4/s400/2013-09-20+20.41.37.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our gourmet home-made dinner!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0GVq_5-JG9ws7uFv6VTpzIvrHyZicpYQOwNlK1T2aAy9v3geAVWeUkbeFvf5PIaYJnVq5O0G7JUjb52BGkTM71MylfLX7WF7gY6PPSsNhY3ineUAW5osQWN7FRfdwieYYlnVmhZEovjE/s1600/2013-09-20+21.53.03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0GVq_5-JG9ws7uFv6VTpzIvrHyZicpYQOwNlK1T2aAy9v3geAVWeUkbeFvf5PIaYJnVq5O0G7JUjb52BGkTM71MylfLX7WF7gY6PPSsNhY3ineUAW5osQWN7FRfdwieYYlnVmhZEovjE/s400/2013-09-20+21.53.03.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">You can see the Eiffel Tower's spotlight from our living room</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Saturday was
my last full day in Paris, so I got up early and once again returned to
Montmartre, easily one of my favorite neighborhoods. Although it can be crowded with tourists at
times, the area is so artsy and quirky that I can’t help but love it. Paris is a relatively flat city, but
Montmartre is the one spot where it gets a little steep – literally meaning
“hill of the martyr,” you get a good workout walking up steep sidewalks and
climbing endless stairs to reach the top, but the view and cultural attractions
found there are definitely worth it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNPLlJgMcxc-iJpEUI85W5d7_omXMasPm0IATAWsRyjsh0JaF3zqez4T7RNu8poD7lnb8jAuUF3C38vISsPC01CukVxOZX9EP8e7uC0w90lPDJLXKzFFNJBVsn6ks1H5wYoU7IVKLF5w/s1600/DSCN2424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNPLlJgMcxc-iJpEUI85W5d7_omXMasPm0IATAWsRyjsh0JaF3zqez4T7RNu8poD7lnb8jAuUF3C38vISsPC01CukVxOZX9EP8e7uC0w90lPDJLXKzFFNJBVsn6ks1H5wYoU7IVKLF5w/s400/DSCN2424.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the neighborhood's many street performers</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDEv59hAN2vyyVqTUHRJAXPbZLXMUzxJgdYGqEFV0vyH23A9vm7jFuFrU9graeiHXXAqaIbDsSAyePy2tQbi00E7POy0Yqk2JAz0W-FwBT_zmF5HKpIM26FiF5YywjWz1eR4SA1yTKrY/s1600/DSCN2423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDEv59hAN2vyyVqTUHRJAXPbZLXMUzxJgdYGqEFV0vyH23A9vm7jFuFrU9graeiHXXAqaIbDsSAyePy2tQbi00E7POy0Yqk2JAz0W-FwBT_zmF5HKpIM26FiF5YywjWz1eR4SA1yTKrY/s400/DSCN2423.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oh, Paris...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I had just
recently discovered that there exists a Musée de Montmartre. Housed in an old building once home to
Renoir’s studio, the museum exhibits a vast array of posters, paintings,
drawings and lithographs all from the hands of artists who called Montmartre
home at one point or another. </div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6kbXWtOgO53vOD9e1jylt9JmwofCAZArO0L6ujnDkG5DYne5zJSDJf30eeWMqnFLSdvcpe4oIZ_dH_7HC6rMa4nbgBz7b_u5wUQxM_FVOaF5ma1FQKt3EETFp4iY5oA7k0m9gmlsA4rM/s1600/DSCN2426.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6kbXWtOgO53vOD9e1jylt9JmwofCAZArO0L6ujnDkG5DYne5zJSDJf30eeWMqnFLSdvcpe4oIZ_dH_7HC6rMa4nbgBz7b_u5wUQxM_FVOaF5ma1FQKt3EETFp4iY5oA7k0m9gmlsA4rM/s400/DSCN2426.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fresh pears waiting to be picked in the museum's gardens</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Through
the artwork you get a sense of the convivial atmosphere that pulsed through the
neighborhood during the late 19<sup>th</sup> and early 20<sup>th</sup>
centuries. From posters advertising
entertainment venues like Le Chat Noir and Le Lapin Agile to sketches of
burlesque performers dancing the can-can by Toulouse-Lautrec, this relatively small museum had a
surprisingly impressive array of artwork on display. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DBoxmh8GhHdX9f0bYyeVeW2k0wllVfEct24pxBY1qaiXBFaEsufJyWLh55hMmxQNtJffNNJRc7CDtUo8PSDDnmMM0S07PL5PVTNtwN1lOZd7CkVVaTAkqr6KYzIJhPQIU-NPx6WiBo0/s1600/2013-09-21+15.33.42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DBoxmh8GhHdX9f0bYyeVeW2k0wllVfEct24pxBY1qaiXBFaEsufJyWLh55hMmxQNtJffNNJRc7CDtUo8PSDDnmMM0S07PL5PVTNtwN1lOZd7CkVVaTAkqr6KYzIJhPQIU-NPx6WiBo0/s400/2013-09-21+15.33.42.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">An original poster from the collection at the Mus<span style="text-align: start;">ée de Montmartre</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The property
also includes Les Jardins de Renoir (“Renoir’s Gardens”), whose various
characteristics provided the inspiration for some of his most famous paintings. For example, the swing in the backyard was
central to Renoir’s “La Balan<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">ç</span>oire,” and when you take a seat in the yard, with
a bit of imagination, you can almost see the artist posed with his easel and
palette just beyond the tree…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81iU4xRCloZJnm9FURnHe7_aVfJqqS9cxNPKLgtoVIVWkOqdfz2TJap2okKeYEAUz2TwrPc4jgDm6LUtYfdMkqt02eI4veafxwYk0ctDMv3Jwnwfxvjz4JhVwAj_hHIcaXZpHqJtxrCI/s1600/La+Balancoire+-+Renoir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81iU4xRCloZJnm9FURnHe7_aVfJqqS9cxNPKLgtoVIVWkOqdfz2TJap2okKeYEAUz2TwrPc4jgDm6LUtYfdMkqt02eI4veafxwYk0ctDMv3Jwnwfxvjz4JhVwAj_hHIcaXZpHqJtxrCI/s400/La+Balancoire+-+Renoir.jpg" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Renoir's "La Balan<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">ç</span>oire"</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7B_DjgtgVJrLcmeDR4Qw2AlhEq09FEla_8Ri4_sYiKIRoV9Z0D1VXkSd9i56DvxYtDLzIO8R_gYhF5nfhh7qPJQF5V6RWt_uBBEOLYjCk8kcGE7zrz7gvR8KF0eoSBN04xWYMfKkZm0/s1600/DSCN2428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7B_DjgtgVJrLcmeDR4Qw2AlhEq09FEla_8Ri4_sYiKIRoV9Z0D1VXkSd9i56DvxYtDLzIO8R_gYhF5nfhh7qPJQF5V6RWt_uBBEOLYjCk8kcGE7zrz7gvR8KF0eoSBN04xWYMfKkZm0/s400/DSCN2428.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The swing from his garden, serving as his inspiration</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The backside
of the property is home to one of Montmartre’s best-kept secrets: <i>les vignes</i>. I had no idea that Paris still had a
fully-functioning vineyard in its boundaries, but my nose led me to the sweet
smell of ripe grapes and voilà. While
the vineyard isn’t open for visits, I hear they have a harvest festival there
sometime in October where you can volunteer to help pick the grapes right off
the vines…maybe I’ll add that to my bucket list?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxpExGrCkmWOSoWwWmnXSdKFLdb9WcBviLnrUUAfWSny4xVyB1ELPyuVfk2-tAij9cPIwqaHFb8pyjdxVWEJPBO3W5vClD1q2L2G1TbkDP1xDBfUkEHeTJu4pMaxN0KJQzV3rUiMVFlhM/s1600/DSCN2436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxpExGrCkmWOSoWwWmnXSdKFLdb9WcBviLnrUUAfWSny4xVyB1ELPyuVfk2-tAij9cPIwqaHFb8pyjdxVWEJPBO3W5vClD1q2L2G1TbkDP1xDBfUkEHeTJu4pMaxN0KJQzV3rUiMVFlhM/s400/DSCN2436.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Les Vignes de Montmartre</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzjXVjVXuJG7mvROKfWnaU40JkpdtijakxKkrzk-TmqgGOur9uNM7KztNggpOW12nju1mRiEQCHbXkueIfySINiZ7dEiAF_9aLZg8tSy59BR6WuE9xVqm5GgwXxTb4c_mHuWLsFAakzkE/s1600/DSCN2433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzjXVjVXuJG7mvROKfWnaU40JkpdtijakxKkrzk-TmqgGOur9uNM7KztNggpOW12nju1mRiEQCHbXkueIfySINiZ7dEiAF_9aLZg8tSy59BR6WuE9xVqm5GgwXxTb4c_mHuWLsFAakzkE/s400/DSCN2433.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Harvest season's right around the corner</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then it
was once again time to pack all my life away back into my 2 suitcases, for
Sunday I was finally moving to Forbach.
I’ll attribute my superb packing skills to all the time I've spent
playing Tetris on my phone over the years…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2yHYRqwbyERJKK96aJygswXqoVaU-GXc84iYcCsIBU45or2R-ir9RoXWsuIogRxDP07rIn4NFRz-zI8P3iMf5PmpDk1Qazjb37bcpvBG3WFwmOvMxZj4gTA27KvmBiVR09n0-OyabrY/s1600/DSCN2442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2yHYRqwbyERJKK96aJygswXqoVaU-GXc84iYcCsIBU45or2R-ir9RoXWsuIogRxDP07rIn4NFRz-zI8P3iMf5PmpDk1Qazjb37bcpvBG3WFwmOvMxZj4gTA27KvmBiVR09n0-OyabrY/s400/DSCN2442.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"In an old house in Paris, covered in vines..."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPiOF-CTxRbN9DZ7COh6ttk1cT-5MuJGHHTAmmmDi3Gk_y9PkE41IdcSGV4Tqp7DzO9Lg-QhKV3k9RhD-F8oEeVkuKQXC-TNDGs-NTYpeLYcf9PZAZPNIB5YgcHsed93W-xPNXSNbAHU/s1600/DSCN2441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPiOF-CTxRbN9DZ7COh6ttk1cT-5MuJGHHTAmmmDi3Gk_y9PkE41IdcSGV4Tqp7DzO9Lg-QhKV3k9RhD-F8oEeVkuKQXC-TNDGs-NTYpeLYcf9PZAZPNIB5YgcHsed93W-xPNXSNbAHU/s400/DSCN2441.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.186515 6.8952950000000328 49.186515 6.8952950000000328tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-38995940704331499102013-09-28T11:21:00.001-04:002013-09-28T11:21:29.855-04:00A Week in Paris (Part One)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After successfully receiving my visa, I had under 2 days
left in the USA to finish packing, go out with my friends one last time, and
bid everyone <i>adieu</i>. I had been so wrapped up in my visa ordeal
that I hadn't had much time to mentally prepare for leaving everything and
everyone I love behind for 9 months…so unfortunately those last two days at
home were equally stressful! It was
great to see everyone one last time, but then I was reminded just how much I
hate goodbyes. Although saying goodbye
was extremely hard, I realized the only reason it sucks so much is because I am
<i>so</i> very fortunate to have amazing
friends and family in my life – and for that, I wouldn't change anything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG63omHpDz7J0hSfZ62v_5OxkqP1U-OMQZ3shZycNWHcJcomv9rvokiqbPE8XQLAejw7gk987w5sDjUL_ZHiIGwuaSRrGJfPe0VfZGem9Q9ISS6-vmKX9aIn5RJ-W2G2IRUR1cisnAMqs/s1600/DSCN2248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG63omHpDz7J0hSfZ62v_5OxkqP1U-OMQZ3shZycNWHcJcomv9rvokiqbPE8XQLAejw7gk987w5sDjUL_ZHiIGwuaSRrGJfPe0VfZGem9Q9ISS6-vmKX9aIn5RJ-W2G2IRUR1cisnAMqs/s400/DSCN2248.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And so the strenuous journey begins!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
On Saturday, September 14, my parents drove me out to Logan
Airport in Boston to meet up with my two friends, Eric (my housemate and best friend from Paris
who lives in nearby Stafford Springs, CT) and Kasey (another one of my best friends
from Paris, who lives in Maryland) who are also doing TAPIF – we were able to
work it out so we all flew over together.
Unfortunately, I had a bit of a surprise when I went to the counter to
check in with my beastly luggage. We had
booked our tickets through a website called Student Universe, which gives crazy
discounts to anyone under age 26, and only paid $344 for a one-way ticket from
Boston to Paris, quite the bargain! I
had been surprised that in addition to the amazing price, they told me that
IcelandAir allows trans-Atlantic passengers not one, but TWO free checked bags,
and that instead of the usual 50 pound limit per bag, we were allowed 70
pounds! It sounded too good to be true!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
…And like most things of that nature, it was. The nice man at the counter informed me that
the website had provided me with false information, and then said it would only
cost a mere $120 <i>per suitcase</i> to take
them with me. At that point, it’s not
like I could easily unpack 40 pounds of clothes and shoes to leave with my
parents, so the guy felt bad for me and thankfully only charged me for one bag. After a painfully teary goodbye with my
parents, Eric, Kasey and I boarded our IcelandAir flight and watched out the
window as the North American mainland disappeared far below us…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDLKcHhAxeUWK57V-oRDHDIBfJHoPj50T0dRzgeQQWqig0-RBpQrWnkAAWt42H3DyXuZZNJUe038aFKmiawvixT-JVYYuVkxBLmh-xHGj905lTLuCXm6qBmM1-G3oBvzf3vUYGulr7iMk/s1600/2013-09-14+14.15.15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDLKcHhAxeUWK57V-oRDHDIBfJHoPj50T0dRzgeQQWqig0-RBpQrWnkAAWt42H3DyXuZZNJUe038aFKmiawvixT-JVYYuVkxBLmh-xHGj905lTLuCXm6qBmM1-G3oBvzf3vUYGulr7iMk/s400/2013-09-14+14.15.15.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Got a little lesson in Icelandic lullabies on the plane... </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Next stop: Iceland!
We landed in Reykjavik at midnight local time and had an hour and a half
to try some interesting Nordic sandwiches for dinner, and then boarded another
plane bound for Paris, where we arrived on Sunday morning at 6:05 am Paris
time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5MzBkQGIu2aJRekb_2TFWvW9tQwfUwEfumFo9lrXrx0Zr7Cwq9l_OemviYH6ARweC76llBm-ElkP-UXwNgpGks-aL8SF3l4k6TiOBJoz0JQNa5I7DOzs20RngT0X11LLkxUDYdlTlkpc/s1600/DSCN2250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5MzBkQGIu2aJRekb_2TFWvW9tQwfUwEfumFo9lrXrx0Zr7Cwq9l_OemviYH6ARweC76llBm-ElkP-UXwNgpGks-aL8SF3l4k6TiOBJoz0JQNa5I7DOzs20RngT0X11LLkxUDYdlTlkpc/s400/DSCN2250.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dinner time in Iceland!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MvNwzrhBPamgLTlAdeBS8oRFo5XrFZZYfYe9EtwP__CK31B7LOSXI5lUEEVpmwuLAjFs2jya2amFFgmJexuDZNljMtzI7ZKN-6MlZjAr1qRzbLHie1F7UfCPLsotB7vO_1_ssovvLYA/s1600/DSCN2249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MvNwzrhBPamgLTlAdeBS8oRFo5XrFZZYfYe9EtwP__CK31B7LOSXI5lUEEVpmwuLAjFs2jya2amFFgmJexuDZNljMtzI7ZKN-6MlZjAr1qRzbLHie1F7UfCPLsotB7vO_1_ssovvLYA/s400/DSCN2249.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not sure how much I paid exactly, but it sure did hit the spot</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After much research, we had decided that renting an
apartment for our week in Paris and splitting the cost three ways was more
economical than staying in a hotel or a hostel where we would have to spend
lots of money going out to eat for every meal.
We found a small apartment on Rue de la Glacière in the 13<sup>th</sup> <i>arrondissement</i> of the city – Paris is
split up into 20 different neighborhoods – that ended up costing us each only
the equivalent of $170 or so for the week. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
One small problem: we were on the fifth French floor
(equivalent to the sixth floor in the US). With no elevator. We each had 100+ pounds of luggage with
us. And we were exhausted due to lack of
sleep during our flights. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzV2wE4701_jA_70GCt9iHmO7tkHhADiZ8ZlcP14HV1ydJirOIv1kK2b3ikDgIvQWCI-LS84ACQk9jiyoGHTD5C_Em2CeSeF6V22oFmQ5boqN9nDvYxug25kZFSJqHykXnuSZMJr14sL8/s1600/DSCN2251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzV2wE4701_jA_70GCt9iHmO7tkHhADiZ8ZlcP14HV1ydJirOIv1kK2b3ikDgIvQWCI-LS84ACQk9jiyoGHTD5C_Em2CeSeF6V22oFmQ5boqN9nDvYxug25kZFSJqHykXnuSZMJr14sL8/s400/DSCN2251.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quick caffeine break at the airport before our 6 am struggle-fest</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Let’s just say that we received many strange looks from
Parisians, muttered a multitude of choice words and thankfully found solace in
lots of laughter as we made our way from Charles de Gaulle airport onto the RER
train into Paris, struggled from the train stop to our apartment, and made the
arduous journey up a millions stairs to our place.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zm7ou48Ts4pa4pN0ksM4FttaoYRnJfzYlj58SnkmKVdivnyRaWLIq7Y9DJXyyeysB734qYrpuPNrmZKwNmeVlKV-5QFyHrFxvBgCXvYWBXpxTjfaxOtkGhhQ9FJWZbuKU_4TKlG0zSI/s1600/DSCN2316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zm7ou48Ts4pa4pN0ksM4FttaoYRnJfzYlj58SnkmKVdivnyRaWLIq7Y9DJXyyeysB734qYrpuPNrmZKwNmeVlKV-5QFyHrFxvBgCXvYWBXpxTjfaxOtkGhhQ9FJWZbuKU_4TKlG0zSI/s400/DSCN2316.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">We finally made it!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After a 3 hour midday nap, we all rallied and went out for
dinner at an Italian restaurant on our street; despite our love of French food,
we were in no mood to spend more time wandering the neighborhood looking for
the perfect spot. Two bottles of wine
later, everyone’s spirits were lifted and the three of us set off for
Bastille Pub, our absolute favorite bar when we all lived in Paris while
studying abroad. We chatted it up with
the bartender and ended up closing the bar, and he loved the fact that we, his
new “American friends,” had chosen to come back to France and back to his bar
so much that he gave us all free shots.
Not bad for our first night!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3dQQNBQTdxDLRIsVGd5qy4OA39jG3jPjXvX3nMdVRY30ttDn-j9ov2QXITyshYuXX3RRh3d1pTCDB1jaZdmnTPhpzXpFaTAxEQEkhY9dMR2IhE5I94J5xq8VOJGkD-RYx2To_hGaiSoY/s1600/2013-09-15+23.54.13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3dQQNBQTdxDLRIsVGd5qy4OA39jG3jPjXvX3nMdVRY30ttDn-j9ov2QXITyshYuXX3RRh3d1pTCDB1jaZdmnTPhpzXpFaTAxEQEkhY9dMR2IhE5I94J5xq8VOJGkD-RYx2To_hGaiSoY/s400/2013-09-15+23.54.13.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our happy bartender friend at Bastille Pub</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The next morning, despite the fact that I was still
exhausted, sore, and covered in a mural of bruises from lugging my suitcases
all over creation, I set off for a solo stroll around the city. I love people-watching and taking pictures,
and Paris is a great city for that! With
no particular agenda, I took the metro to Notre-Dame, walked around the
St-Michel neighborhood, strolled around the Louvre and through the Jardin des
Tuileries to Place de la Concorde. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjM7CosHBYz8ej7L1DZscZcsVglpmiA_glVvCuoIc3t21rJEHRTjk6UChSFBWUpruyqms6RmsjQHtQhlcQX8Lw_S2z2wrCDeL6jO4qBSo280IzWDVI9DwotItT9dH7FvZraBuFQmbUZv8/s1600/DSCN2258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjM7CosHBYz8ej7L1DZscZcsVglpmiA_glVvCuoIc3t21rJEHRTjk6UChSFBWUpruyqms6RmsjQHtQhlcQX8Lw_S2z2wrCDeL6jO4qBSo280IzWDVI9DwotItT9dH7FvZraBuFQmbUZv8/s400/DSCN2258.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The ever-beautiful Notre-Dame, celebrating her 850th birthday this year</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh9tJTZN1Wzgr7T7aaTX5lLmIlrY5r6guBjZSSztgfi8_3oR2HarDzA-FXo1b0Lka9Ex0zLY1gJ4oogaWFkpQJtzYIpSuGl8w5sHSm2lNSkBnKN_unrZWv4njFY21lyOFrmm_UT94is_8/s1600/DSCN2284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh9tJTZN1Wzgr7T7aaTX5lLmIlrY5r6guBjZSSztgfi8_3oR2HarDzA-FXo1b0Lka9Ex0zLY1gJ4oogaWFkpQJtzYIpSuGl8w5sHSm2lNSkBnKN_unrZWv4njFY21lyOFrmm_UT94is_8/s400/DSCN2284.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Flowers in the Tuileries</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHgXP0KUAQKqM4KZ7kZ2faQZhS9xXFbPZYi_3HdwndXuYB3KDX0qW7uwzPa-5u6xlZ9B_XVWfQ9hnxqig1MmjNG-b3OlRJBbD7dGowExtewZa3GJJCgNio4LTG7wc_BKQLuHPmm9CAIE/s1600/DSCN2272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHgXP0KUAQKqM4KZ7kZ2faQZhS9xXFbPZYi_3HdwndXuYB3KDX0qW7uwzPa-5u6xlZ9B_XVWfQ9hnxqig1MmjNG-b3OlRJBbD7dGowExtewZa3GJJCgNio4LTG7wc_BKQLuHPmm9CAIE/s400/DSCN2272.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">L'Arc du Triomphe du Carrousel, guarding the path between the Louvre and the Jardin des Tuileries</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcM4pLpIg4F3cuZ2XnTQ120G0jEuKdtaZdwHMC7DkqrzD4V53ANVoV4cspvVt48R4LftNJA41v7wnGlDNMVN6rlmKvckvLxOJHrqo-7K7NoAuH5Y4e6k9Tb_-jyjNR0urWPAINRWKREE/s1600/DSCN2288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcM4pLpIg4F3cuZ2XnTQ120G0jEuKdtaZdwHMC7DkqrzD4V53ANVoV4cspvVt48R4LftNJA41v7wnGlDNMVN6rlmKvckvLxOJHrqo-7K7NoAuH5Y4e6k9Tb_-jyjNR0urWPAINRWKREE/s400/DSCN2288.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Entering Place de la Concorde</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMq_bE4xpuehTNRHB2wl99TLDgC9qo8_ZshBwqbkQd5N6Tk9CHfPfFjaZNDeNkJ9eHJhlV92nc7XteR5BC-tD2FpTcFas-pQ0rwdAzNo9sZwLcPmLjlW8jsdTFZYqV5KUXjg5DY50Omr8/s1600/DSCN2294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMq_bE4xpuehTNRHB2wl99TLDgC9qo8_ZshBwqbkQd5N6Tk9CHfPfFjaZNDeNkJ9eHJhlV92nc7XteR5BC-tD2FpTcFas-pQ0rwdAzNo9sZwLcPmLjlW8jsdTFZYqV5KUXjg5DY50Omr8/s400/DSCN2294.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gold, gold, everywhere</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7NPbytbotdJR-T-RqJ3MLKqeHrTpozpaavg4GhK_cGeVws4yYtuCvZLY5kT6GYV8PQpeOlhuxyCZHh7Ys9PrGr2EhYFytPsuelAQCVnu77XohK5ZynxzrbLRJMGv5Hmt87N8kxXtGD0/s1600/DSCN2300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7NPbytbotdJR-T-RqJ3MLKqeHrTpozpaavg4GhK_cGeVws4yYtuCvZLY5kT6GYV8PQpeOlhuxyCZHh7Ys9PrGr2EhYFytPsuelAQCVnu77XohK5ZynxzrbLRJMGv5Hmt87N8kxXtGD0/s400/DSCN2300.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hieroglyphs on the Obelisque</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi191f-zfIeuBl0AvWCij3pm13S3qo0ebnHMw2abovdBYZtBYbTW73N_quojrPsgEQD6MMHE1y3DUbT5yZxNTYpe3zLqsbNovoJwoxoeXNA6ou8-qRs3UCaeUEPXbcder8llwihpI9bpbE/s1600/DSCN2305.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi191f-zfIeuBl0AvWCij3pm13S3qo0ebnHMw2abovdBYZtBYbTW73N_quojrPsgEQD6MMHE1y3DUbT5yZxNTYpe3zLqsbNovoJwoxoeXNA6ou8-qRs3UCaeUEPXbcder8llwihpI9bpbE/s400/DSCN2305.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The boat, one of the symbols of Paris, whose motto is <i>Fluctuat nec mergitur,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Latin for "It is tossed by the waves, but never sinks"</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
For
whatever reason, I had been humming songs in my head and when I got to Place de
la Concorde (where the guillotine once stood and publicly severed the heads of
thousands during the French Revolution), the song <i>Heads Will Roll</i> by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, whose refrain is <i>“Off with your head!”,</i> was ironically
the tune of the moment – call it fate or just my subconscious, but I found it
pretty amusing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/O3c4dPxN1qM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After grabbing a crêpe <i>oeuf-jambon-fromage</i>
(ham, egg & cheese), I enthusiastically ventured inside the Louvre to go
say <i>bonjour</i> to my favorite works of
art. Much to my chagrin, it had started
to rain, so all the tourists in Paris decided to head inside as well. But at least I had held onto my student ID
card from the Université de Paris, which grants the bearer free admission, so I
sneakily covered the 2011-2012 school year with my finger and was admitted free
of charge!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxZ3_ZZ0_rXKwkV20oc1h2kxuZXozCQ-vz3eujpLHSUb2HN0cZwBjMEIfVCHcxQQDxGtFSu_RBwF_upHBaAybtIpfH08Iy01MTpG9RNaGNYUHavSthmbX6S4IMnI7jjzd4ETlGvKI0_w/s1600/DSCN2271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxZ3_ZZ0_rXKwkV20oc1h2kxuZXozCQ-vz3eujpLHSUb2HN0cZwBjMEIfVCHcxQQDxGtFSu_RBwF_upHBaAybtIpfH08Iy01MTpG9RNaGNYUHavSthmbX6S4IMnI7jjzd4ETlGvKI0_w/s400/DSCN2271.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm so nerdy that going back to the Louvre was almost like being reunited with a long-lost friend!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixDbf3EwwD737Vh2av8NSyJhTTmpGRC_16nwFPRT_Uoce-irK4MU9KaOZwsumdGgd0oImvLNGyOklyjyCEHk8-BInL7Qi3sVcpPMOb27jEemDDHCR_q3i2JXx65WIx0g-tEfNS3dBvEfM/s1600/IMG_20130918_173349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixDbf3EwwD737Vh2av8NSyJhTTmpGRC_16nwFPRT_Uoce-irK4MU9KaOZwsumdGgd0oImvLNGyOklyjyCEHk8-BInL7Qi3sVcpPMOb27jEemDDHCR_q3i2JXx65WIx0g-tEfNS3dBvEfM/s400/IMG_20130918_173349.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hey there, Mona</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIh0iJc0zkcMT2lSlhN09tncweLX2yMtZXKmU3JbBPgbhDJovwjCKr_dERwjyWwHBVSo7h4l48XQ_Z1IcbhGePqYFKAgtyPwevszkBBWsWwF-4FFeXs6fw5O0IVW9moLloHpEHKH63wTM/s1600/DSCN2367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIh0iJc0zkcMT2lSlhN09tncweLX2yMtZXKmU3JbBPgbhDJovwjCKr_dERwjyWwHBVSo7h4l48XQ_Z1IcbhGePqYFKAgtyPwevszkBBWsWwF-4FFeXs6fw5O0IVW9moLloHpEHKH63wTM/s400/DSCN2367.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hands-down favorite work in the Italian sculpture gallery: Cannova's beautifully lit "Psyche Revived by Love's Kiss"</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNOrz_8MW3T4h4Cz-FpXbKrS3iGrLdGONDvz2DR5XqncD5aiZyxwCvccVK2bvoCd3YoHzMX0qCrOeIhzXy0BXNxJvZB0ljGomQmBa0NsMERNjQPhU2hywOEWBth4MBqHcpA9dDIMMUQjA/s1600/IMG_20130916_142723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNOrz_8MW3T4h4Cz-FpXbKrS3iGrLdGONDvz2DR5XqncD5aiZyxwCvccVK2bvoCd3YoHzMX0qCrOeIhzXy0BXNxJvZB0ljGomQmBa0NsMERNjQPhU2hywOEWBth4MBqHcpA9dDIMMUQjA/s400/IMG_20130916_142723.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Underground entrance to the Louvre</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAoS758e-1XmG7RFUGfRcZqJ16qBu0NZGFYCQj7A7Z3EcPRat5ogUT3EjAuE0gFg67MSoBs10xuzE47Bh-eqeHovjYx6RyjsPlcD4WWwVKQzPn562-sY6S3XeiFO4Wa5hb2SlJa-ZgrBU/s1600/DSCN2372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAoS758e-1XmG7RFUGfRcZqJ16qBu0NZGFYCQj7A7Z3EcPRat5ogUT3EjAuE0gFg67MSoBs10xuzE47Bh-eqeHovjYx6RyjsPlcD4WWwVKQzPn562-sY6S3XeiFO4Wa5hb2SlJa-ZgrBU/s400/DSCN2372.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"You've really got to hand it to Venus de Milo...I mean, how else would she eat?" (sorry, couldn't resist this one from my art history days!)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8m-Z1tml9ymd9X4Y_Q-cwxuCJHUYu9rFp9GK7dG_8tR5qPyQI7GMJu4ahISYU4nXQSGXLap7xEaRCHVwWnAvX31xaNXpA_prfz6fAQntiycXXeEoTwnM_mDgjA5PUT1QlDzvs48_S-5E/s1600/DSCN2366.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8m-Z1tml9ymd9X4Y_Q-cwxuCJHUYu9rFp9GK7dG_8tR5qPyQI7GMJu4ahISYU4nXQSGXLap7xEaRCHVwWnAvX31xaNXpA_prfz6fAQntiycXXeEoTwnM_mDgjA5PUT1QlDzvs48_S-5E/s400/DSCN2366.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Now totally drained of energy, I met up with Kasey, Eric,
and his Parisian friend Zoe at Café Penty, where we had a delicious <i>thé à la menthe.</i> The bartender fills a tall glass with tea
leaves, a fresh sprig of mint and multiple sugar cubes, adds some boiling water
and tops it off with a handful of pine nuts (interesting combo, I know) – <i>et voilà</i>! Hands down the best tea I've ever had.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After whipping up a quick stir-fry back at our apartment, I
set off with Kasey to go get the keys to her apartment. She’ll be working as an English teaching
assistant in the 19<sup>th</sup> arrondissement of Paris but also found another
job as an English-speaking babysitter for a family who lives in the Parisian
suburb of Boulogne-Billancourt. In
exchange for picking the kids up from school each day and entertaining them for
the afternoon at their house, the family is renting their studio apartment in
the 15<sup>th</sup> arrondissement to Kasey for a mere 71€ per month, which is
insanely cheap for Paris! Her apartment
is small but cozy, and I hope to be visiting her there a lot when I have free
time to go back to Paris!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ldqkkcTb9CeemV85roFZ78oyOiFQ0jxGzbwrOBLpS_O669p1wDzbEB6h-cEdIzhAh19IXhN9AxNmBICKdQl7WRi_AovJDIPtUXo0NooAo-eo5L-Bxfd23l_hqpzDvz_bDdlZ6DoOfuA/s1600/DSCN2314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ldqkkcTb9CeemV85roFZ78oyOiFQ0jxGzbwrOBLpS_O669p1wDzbEB6h-cEdIzhAh19IXhN9AxNmBICKdQl7WRi_AovJDIPtUXo0NooAo-eo5L-Bxfd23l_hqpzDvz_bDdlZ6DoOfuA/s400/DSCN2314.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">How exactly does one "smoke quietly"?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That night we decided to explore our own neighborhood to see
what the 13<sup>th</sup> arrondissement had to offer, as none of us had been
previously familiar with it. This area
of the city is far away from touristy attractions (which are always noisy,
crowded, and full of English-speakers) and thus provides a better look at the
slice of life led by many Parisians. Of
course, this includes nightlife as well!
We found a quiet little street with a couple of bars where we started
chatting in French with some locals who turned out to be really cool. It was amusing for us because we played the
“guess-where-we’re-from” game, and when they decided that we definitely weren’t
British or American, we must therefore be Czech! Bizarre, I know…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidO_8UKDmFQ-3fqHNpg-h4EteiMCbapHbkZEgbncS1dNQaiW_8jtxFAHAC71ERfZ8cQzTMhBYSlG2SAt9n8sRhj8jSCpta6f2TwXmHbdf3LRj9UVAV7Y2VWdu2iTMTg0iFswGD6VQTjBg/s1600/DSCN2319.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidO_8UKDmFQ-3fqHNpg-h4EteiMCbapHbkZEgbncS1dNQaiW_8jtxFAHAC71ERfZ8cQzTMhBYSlG2SAt9n8sRhj8jSCpta6f2TwXmHbdf3LRj9UVAV7Y2VWdu2iTMTg0iFswGD6VQTjBg/s400/DSCN2319.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eric and I enjoying a drink in the 13th arronidssement</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2tCmLtecCUTKP3-AGHf_D9TIBnRjftER5uNv-S1rO9P-csDYOZTZFYI4zAggfPiCNVoZuqPfaCD04CdURnjlpqZD6rcqYw2lXRIAMTCAj7qq4dF9ldmjltEenFPBDSruU4xIxKq4ERck/s1600/DSCN2317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2tCmLtecCUTKP3-AGHf_D9TIBnRjftER5uNv-S1rO9P-csDYOZTZFYI4zAggfPiCNVoZuqPfaCD04CdURnjlpqZD6rcqYw2lXRIAMTCAj7qq4dF9ldmjltEenFPBDSruU4xIxKq4ERck/s400/DSCN2317.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Cool graffiti in our neighborhood</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">It gave us confidence to know that our French had definitely
improved since our first stay in Paris, when we would never have dared go to
local bar (where the bartenders would switch to English the second they
detected a non-French accent when you ordered your drink), never mind strike up
a conversation with a couple 20-somethings.
Without trying to be overly stereotypical, in our experience, Americans
and anything to do with our culture (music, movies, fashion, etc.) are
fascinating to French people for whatever reason - one of our new friends was
even swapping quotes with us from the hit TV show </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Breaking Bad</i><span style="text-align: justify;">, which happens to be one of my favorites! It’s always
nice to find people who share common interests with you when you’re so far from
home.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiZes41LnBYz65oHsCIZdnrEHKD7MYxdw4k_UTq14xXL0YXY2o9OP-TrmtvRsSBqPjVLIzOUQeiiiE__JM6IsUWtpXjrpSfQPnKCckWNOIdzA0FrMu1hYBEUl1y7oFmBiTUx7xTPqYc98/s1600/DSCN2354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiZes41LnBYz65oHsCIZdnrEHKD7MYxdw4k_UTq14xXL0YXY2o9OP-TrmtvRsSBqPjVLIzOUQeiiiE__JM6IsUWtpXjrpSfQPnKCckWNOIdzA0FrMu1hYBEUl1y7oFmBiTUx7xTPqYc98/s400/DSCN2354.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My favorite - macarons! Delicous French almond-based sandwich cookies that come in every flavor imaginable. Today's selection: salted butter caramel, blackberry, passion fruit & basil, almond & vanilla, and coffee</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">By Tuesday we were all really exhausted – sugar and caffeine
can only keep a sleepy, jet-lagged traveler moving for so long! – so it was a
pretty low-key day. We strolled around
Montmartre, one of my favorite neighborhoods & once home to the
Impressionist painters, admired the beautiful Sacré-Coeur basilica, checked out
some of the area’s quirky little shops and headed back to the apartment to
regroup. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OUaLJDCAcJXAbNEbmuTlAJJYtLO9nLVAsbGwLcixlHiGnB1unxmG_JgvpIPjhn4FiGDIgNKPCbb029fkPY3rg16rGKe_C5NxyT8gzrmpxll6oFPKvD9eyvO7A_d5X4vH-GNgmqU-6Nc/s1600/DSCN2323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OUaLJDCAcJXAbNEbmuTlAJJYtLO9nLVAsbGwLcixlHiGnB1unxmG_JgvpIPjhn4FiGDIgNKPCbb029fkPY3rg16rGKe_C5NxyT8gzrmpxll6oFPKvD9eyvO7A_d5X4vH-GNgmqU-6Nc/s400/DSCN2323.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tada! Le Moulin Rouge</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPmdA48zQj9XU72KSQynZUeWz1UpetecPYVTL4z3C5qI8Q8MLJHaYvKkc3BDL0sIzrFoUXqvWj9cp7Io8kB-_ZoRhZ4CJTV0bUlkBTlig6qa_qpK2lSTXHgbKgQFxzMPmk6Wia-SZFDVY/s1600/DSCN2328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPmdA48zQj9XU72KSQynZUeWz1UpetecPYVTL4z3C5qI8Q8MLJHaYvKkc3BDL0sIzrFoUXqvWj9cp7Io8kB-_ZoRhZ4CJTV0bUlkBTlig6qa_qpK2lSTXHgbKgQFxzMPmk6Wia-SZFDVY/s400/DSCN2328.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Le Mur des "Je t'aime," a wall covered in 350 different ways to say "I Love You" (in a total of 211 languages)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">Eric went to a </span><i style="text-align: justify;">vernissage</i><span style="text-align: justify;"> (the opening of an exposition
at an art gallery) with a group of his French friends, so Kasey and I naturally
headed off to Happy Hour and I enjoyed a delicious mojito </span><i style="text-align: justify;">aux fruits rouges</i><span style="text-align: justify;">, with blackberries, strawberries, currants and
blueberries muddled in it – </span><i style="text-align: justify;">délicieux</i><span style="text-align: justify;">! And then it was time to be super indecisive
about where to go to dinner…we ended up wandering around random streets for
nearly two hours looking for the “perfect” place to eat. What a problem to have, being in Paris, one
of the gastronomic capitals of the world, and not finding anywhere up to our
standards (which, when you’re on a budget, admittedly can’t be too high!). We settled on a place near Châtelet and I
opted for my favorite, </span><i style="text-align: justify;">confit de canard</i><span style="text-align: justify;">,
duck which has been preserved in its own fat and is then oven-roasted to fall
ever so deliciously off the bone!</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Hf0r6j1JPrFURW2DulBu0FFvTebMBD7gJZJmTyZTSESUzW30n29A25mwZxt3KMyEcoN6vYWtyame6_DH16TdPVyR4emtBclz1vlZtX6OPsHyw9uKYvyrx4MwQ-BP9FBBazM3sgtsKfM/s1600/DSCN2335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Hf0r6j1JPrFURW2DulBu0FFvTebMBD7gJZJmTyZTSESUzW30n29A25mwZxt3KMyEcoN6vYWtyame6_DH16TdPVyR4emtBclz1vlZtX6OPsHyw9uKYvyrx4MwQ-BP9FBBazM3sgtsKfM/s400/DSCN2335.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Posing in Montmartre with the beautiful view of the city below</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_XAV-qfjwYM9SY74nHNBO6dz4R__X-GZDJcmiFycGdAC5-145OC4subbgtavlWvnT4k4_csqiTcYcPmoCKoKalT2N8911ifgVTsHOHrQPV2P8DMYwSlQUoCcx0kHrAisEa4iHM126FI/s1600/DSCN2339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_XAV-qfjwYM9SY74nHNBO6dz4R__X-GZDJcmiFycGdAC5-145OC4subbgtavlWvnT4k4_csqiTcYcPmoCKoKalT2N8911ifgVTsHOHrQPV2P8DMYwSlQUoCcx0kHrAisEa4iHM126FI/s400/DSCN2339.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Love it around here! So picturesque!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXB3iRs7_cvh2NbJ06Ljq4v8poehfP6dRQV9zslqjKeOZVKKCfmsjwb5lpeRyekRW5nTeT0RIAg1D1K3mu2T8_7rWdkw-iRN5ehfWmtOoo9V4KYBYfYh6cW74KzlvE64fTbR5lldIxFk/s1600/DSCN2341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXB3iRs7_cvh2NbJ06Ljq4v8poehfP6dRQV9zslqjKeOZVKKCfmsjwb5lpeRyekRW5nTeT0RIAg1D1K3mu2T8_7rWdkw-iRN5ehfWmtOoo9V4KYBYfYh6cW74KzlvE64fTbR5lldIxFk/s400/DSCN2341.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">View of Paris from the steps of Sacr</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;">é</span><span style="font-size: small;">-Coeur</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaR7C0CHaUZu-ZY2NdOOUhpl8NQ3R9w-_f22rt_pKsr-IKZVtNUi9jGKsOk46uRGmwfVk673z9z0m_zFfhEXppYVcDsLn7hT0-fy1qlkPf5Nq7ll5rgFgh648da9SyzRDkCvkZRObLAo/s1600/DSCN2344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaR7C0CHaUZu-ZY2NdOOUhpl8NQ3R9w-_f22rt_pKsr-IKZVtNUi9jGKsOk46uRGmwfVk673z9z0m_zFfhEXppYVcDsLn7hT0-fy1qlkPf5Nq7ll5rgFgh648da9SyzRDkCvkZRObLAo/s400/DSCN2344.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sacr</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;">é</span><span style="font-size: small;">-Coeur basilica</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNHStm6uS0bZmiPF07kHRGr9XVN-LVGzSzLJUbbQ4rIH2oXE615ghAIgXMtLcE5jfzmSDn_hUVjyvD6zhB9RgmWQVuuJ1lTcTKvmEfKgpWHmp1whWOp0yEL5Sahp5IJ8jS0-rUFM52qA/s1600/2013-09-17+15.19.17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNHStm6uS0bZmiPF07kHRGr9XVN-LVGzSzLJUbbQ4rIH2oXE615ghAIgXMtLcE5jfzmSDn_hUVjyvD6zhB9RgmWQVuuJ1lTcTKvmEfKgpWHmp1whWOp0yEL5Sahp5IJ8jS0-rUFM52qA/s400/2013-09-17+15.19.17.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Place des Abbesses</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Wednesday started off with a bit of administrative business,
as the three of us went to La Boutique SNCF (a store which handles French
National Railroad matters) to buy our <i>Cartes
Jeunes</i>. Essentially, if you’re under
26, you get all sorts of crazy discounts on all sorts of things throughout
France, and thus the discount card you buy at SNCF will save you a boatload of
money anytime you chose to travel by train.
As the railway system throughout France and the rest of Europe is
extremely efficient and makes stops pretty much anywhere your little heart
desires to travel, it is often a cheaper, more convenient way to travel versus
flying. You pay 50€ for the card, and
then anytime you buy a train ticket, you mention that you have one (kind of
like AAA) and get a discount. For
instance, before leaving the US for France, I had already gone online and
purchased a one-way train ticket from Paris to Forbach for 70€ (about $90) – it
would have been cheaper to make multiple stops and change trains along the way,
but with all my bags I wasn't about to do that!
When I bought the <i>carte jeune</i>,
I asked if there was any way to retroactively get a discount on that ticket,
and the ticket agent was able to bring the cost down to only 52€! So essentially my discount card only cost 32€
and was well on its way to paying for itself already. The card is valid for one year and is
definitely something to look into if you ever plan on spending extended amounts
of time in Europe.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Yh_0M35zBTJGCDzv2xpzMMAtYZJVNOFqGifAly-WYUyFkl_5qPWFV-nAU_IqPpf5Jcwva-tnojNI8_V4qCoU4NWe2X-mdMACpBdcQUV4LSY0QdTsFPG3QuCJEP2cKNx1Tdpbftr0M5c/s1600/DSCN2494.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Yh_0M35zBTJGCDzv2xpzMMAtYZJVNOFqGifAly-WYUyFkl_5qPWFV-nAU_IqPpf5Jcwva-tnojNI8_V4qCoU4NWe2X-mdMACpBdcQUV4LSY0QdTsFPG3QuCJEP2cKNx1Tdpbftr0M5c/s400/DSCN2494.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A little mugshot-esque, but it will do!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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After another afternoon of strolling along the <i>quais</i> of the Seine River and eating the
world’s most delicious falafel from L’As du Falafel in the Marais (if you’re
ever in Paris, this is a MUST!! Best 5,50€ lunch in town!), Eric and I headed
back to our old apartment in the 20<sup>th</sup> arrondissement to spend a
lovely <i>soirée</i> with our host parents,
Béatrix and Quentin. We were elated to
be invited back, and I think we were just as happy to see some familiar faces as
they were. Oddly, it felt as if we had
never left, and we all were able to pick back up right where we had left
off. They are hosting another student
from Sweet Briar College this year, Rebecca, and it was nice to chat with
someone who was about to embark on the same amazing adventure as we had and
reminisce about all the cool things we had done during our own stay. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdkAIAP7UqST7lpsePyEJUOCj6rAuScNTtoCpgWeZIn__0gxcYlNeqevs0NG2q89nS3LrUGCmqxLxldYAaUlHk97zcblWElnP2bSOauoKFEMX-9dRZGkvK6Abgz2Zs2bxH3WwQjHgxKk/s1600/DSCN2357.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdkAIAP7UqST7lpsePyEJUOCj6rAuScNTtoCpgWeZIn__0gxcYlNeqevs0NG2q89nS3LrUGCmqxLxldYAaUlHk97zcblWElnP2bSOauoKFEMX-9dRZGkvK6Abgz2Zs2bxH3WwQjHgxKk/s400/DSCN2357.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mmm, falafel!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNVvNisDZQUkNBFwG9qSfTLhaNbKqePJYdYQGlXaUVUzrj7RKkdhum5sxTQ37wDgv5EUbQ3Yb2EyTd5vi9qLEdWMuygDwW4AInfH3CxrpvEpFroqxlhiyb8CZhCucztIyPr4iqHI99yA/s1600/IMG_20130918_173147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNVvNisDZQUkNBFwG9qSfTLhaNbKqePJYdYQGlXaUVUzrj7RKkdhum5sxTQ37wDgv5EUbQ3Yb2EyTd5vi9qLEdWMuygDwW4AInfH3CxrpvEpFroqxlhiyb8CZhCucztIyPr4iqHI99yA/s400/IMG_20130918_173147.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Don't be fooled by imitators - this place is worth the wait!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As per usual, Béatrix prepared quite the spread of food for
us: an <i>entrée </i>(appetizer – yes,
totally backwards from the US…in French it actually means “entrance” and is
thus more logical) of hearts of palm prepared two ways, first tossed with
homemade vinaigrette, second mixed with cubes of feta cheese and sliced
cucumbers; the <i>plat</i> (entrée) was
chicken marinated in a spicy chili pepper sauce served over rice, then came a course of
bread and assorted cheeses, and for <i>dessert</i>
we enjoyed
almond cookies served with a scoop of mango sorbet and coconut ice cream – not
to mention a couple bottles of wine!</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtrdZEf-sngiwAzSpvUPrIjYrfCtS5JoqaAMsqJWPx2HYXQSDB_fSAxBs5UtQcx5lpLtmxjNedIZOTZgPsaXJoSw26fP_n502Zm4aRIl6BBFHBM3VEb6fmW_Bv9eYGqPHypLIzjlvWrQ/s1600/DSCN2382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtrdZEf-sngiwAzSpvUPrIjYrfCtS5JoqaAMsqJWPx2HYXQSDB_fSAxBs5UtQcx5lpLtmxjNedIZOTZgPsaXJoSw26fP_n502Zm4aRIl6BBFHBM3VEb6fmW_Bv9eYGqPHypLIzjlvWrQ/s400/DSCN2382.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dinner with the family: B<span style="text-align: justify;">é</span>atrix, Quentin, myself and Eric</span></td></tr>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A quick word about the Béatrix’s famous chicken – Eric and I
both distinctly remember having the same mouth-watering meal as our first
dinner with our host family in Paris back in 2011. She then made it again while we were there when her best friend
Chantal came to spend a few days at the house, and here we were again, 2 years
later, eating the same delicious “welcome meal” that we so vividly
remember! We asked her if she had done
this on purpose, and she had no idea of the coincidence! Needless to say it was a great surprise, and
I envy anyone else who heads over to Béatrix and Quentin’s house for dinner;
there, you can never go wrong with delectable food, hand-selected wine, and
great company! It was so nice to see
them again, and I look forward to visiting them again and again throughout my
time in France.<o:p></o:p></div>
Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com1Forbach, France49.186515 6.895295000000032849.145006 6.8146140000000326 49.228024 6.975976000000033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-12443793206616402102013-09-17T11:49:00.001-04:002013-09-17T11:49:51.601-04:00The Visa Debacle...For all of you wondering, I safely arrived in Paris at 6:00am local time Sunday morning 9/15! More on that later...but now, a word about the craziness that was involved in obtaining my French visa...<br />
<br />
Everyone planning on staying in France for longer than 3 months needs to apply for and successfully obtain a long-stay visa through the French government. The application process is simple, especially for people like me who have a pre-approved work contract through the government: a 2-page application form, immigration form, work contract, and ID photo are all that you need to present at an interview at your local branch of the French consulate - mine was in Boston. You go in person for an interview that you must schedule no more than 90 days before your departure, but need to book the appointment for sometime after you receive your work contract (we were told to expect to get our contracts in the mail anytime between the beginning of June to mid-August). The whole visa issuing process is supposed to take only 2 to 3 weeks, thus I figured that booking an appointment on August 6 - a whole six weeks before my intended departure date of September 14 - would be more than enough time. When you go for the appointment, you can choose to leave a pre-paid, self-addressed envelope and your passport with the consulate, so that way they can affix the visa in your passport and just mail it back to you when it gets issued, or you can make the trek back to the consulate yourself to pick up the visa in person. Since I had to make the 2-hour journey to Boston from Westfield for the appointment, I didn't really feel like going back a second time when I could just receive my documents by mail like I did the last time I needed a visa, so I left an envelope...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_oY9D4lh4sBI-iRfpHeT0ApEBtv1ES70htsJC5CWtJ9YRT85beskjRioYt_NDRGQTEWDKeDxVGQUJZN0LI5ljz4zAGAPqBQsvKC403OVYdZfEEW6yI9Y-Igb5ElSPBOP8wTvzoP2iYtY/s1600/DSCN2189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_oY9D4lh4sBI-iRfpHeT0ApEBtv1ES70htsJC5CWtJ9YRT85beskjRioYt_NDRGQTEWDKeDxVGQUJZN0LI5ljz4zAGAPqBQsvKC403OVYdZfEEW6yI9Y-Igb5ElSPBOP8wTvzoP2iYtY/s400/DSCN2189.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The State House in Boston</td></tr>
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<br />
Four weeks go by, and I start to wonder where the heck my visa is. On the consulate's website there is a link to check the status of your application, and every time I check mine, I am told "Your application is still being processed. Please check back at a later date." After emailing the visa section of the Boston consulate four times, both in English and in French, I start to become frustrated/even more worried when no one answers me back. The only phone number for the consulate brings you to a phone tree, which only further directs you to email addresses you can use to contact the consulate - the ones I had already unsuccessfully tried. Time is ticking down now: my passport is essentially being held hostage at the consulate, no one is responding to my inquiries, and I am becoming more and more stressed out; there's no way to travel to France without a passport, never mind trying to work without a visa upon arrival.<br />
<br />
To make a long story short, after contacting the woman in charge of the TAPIF program who works at the French Embassy in Washington, D.C. (one step higher than the Boston consulate), state representatives, congressmen, and even an immigration specialist at the Governor's office, I learn that there has been a "personnel change-over" during the summer at the consulate in the Boston, and since nobody there knows what they're doing, all I can do is wait. I was assured that I would get my visa in time for my departure, as the paperwork had already been sent to France and approved, thus the only thing they were waiting on was to physically print the visa (which looks like a big label), stick it inside my passport, and to have the Consul of France sign it. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_z1TNqkHehjudricpkAMMM2f4DdAOABRNNLqliGiKmrHHtUHn5S5RzWlf9q_c52FQHqPCFbswJ8Q3Q65km9Nav-oP2i-SL6PerD8R3EUZmEwd7lbwFt_fImiJUm5zZ8tRT6lECR1OGAg/s1600/2013-08-06+15.02.13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_z1TNqkHehjudricpkAMMM2f4DdAOABRNNLqliGiKmrHHtUHn5S5RzWlf9q_c52FQHqPCFbswJ8Q3Q65km9Nav-oP2i-SL6PerD8R3EUZmEwd7lbwFt_fImiJUm5zZ8tRT6lECR1OGAg/s400/2013-08-06+15.02.13.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Zakim Bridge, as seen from the Charles River in Boston</td></tr>
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<br />
Flash forward to the Monday before I am slated to leave: still no visa. At this point I enter full panic mode, knowing that since I left the envelope, after the visa gets issued it still has to be mailed back to me, and thus could further be delayed by the USPS. More phone calls to D.C., and my contact there is able to speak with Boston to ask them to hold my visa/passport in the office so that I can drive out to pick it up as soon as it is ready. Late Tuesday afternoon (9/10), a mere 4 days before my departure, I get a much anticipated phone call from Boston - my visa is ready for pick-up, and I can go there between 2:30 and 3:30 pm any week day to get it! Finally!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlhipii7sr5bIvdSKLPox-dmnNBJEKQ1k6T0tkL0U1eaCaPCexYPKgBOD_fGzue7bgJIswtbXhN3fjr0IMCqbDW_V0rODfgdGa599BHl78pPK9zZlQmCs8XLPXqbSH1Ztsz5x6iGxzOg/s1600/2013-08-06+16.10.39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlhipii7sr5bIvdSKLPox-dmnNBJEKQ1k6T0tkL0U1eaCaPCexYPKgBOD_fGzue7bgJIswtbXhN3fjr0IMCqbDW_V0rODfgdGa599BHl78pPK9zZlQmCs8XLPXqbSH1Ztsz5x6iGxzOg/s400/2013-08-06+16.10.39.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Boston and the John Hancock Tower from the observation deck atop the Prudential Center</td></tr>
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On Wednesday morning (9/11) my aunt and I hop in my car and head out to Boston once again to go pick up my passport - so close I can almost taste it! Feeling optimistic and less-stressed now that I know I'll have my passport in time to leave, Aunt Wendy and I spend a nice morning strolling through Boston Common, had lunch on Boylston Street, and finally reach the consulate for 2:30 sharp.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakmWz0KS0Wc1C3Xj27sPVy7ukHXkBTGqT8da0HKKYwAnGuT7MMFjesG5qQPmhpmjXMzRr3FV9_uT3K-xjdK2lpu25n-FEhnJQBtxI7KK90PXTf8aGOzzQ8A5cgs-Cn0HbyI4CmjwShxU/s1600/2013-09-11+14.04.47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakmWz0KS0Wc1C3Xj27sPVy7ukHXkBTGqT8da0HKKYwAnGuT7MMFjesG5qQPmhpmjXMzRr3FV9_uT3K-xjdK2lpu25n-FEhnJQBtxI7KK90PXTf8aGOzzQ8A5cgs-Cn0HbyI4CmjwShxU/s400/2013-09-11+14.04.47.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Wendy & I enjoying a stroll through Boston Commons before my visa pick-up appointment</td></tr>
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I approach the counter with my ID and the woman heads over to the big box where all the completed visas are sitting, rifling through to find mine. Unsuccessful, she leaves the room and goes out back, at which point my hands start to get all clammy - she didn't have to go anywhere special to find everyone else's visas...<br />
<br />
The minutes tick by and finally she comes back to her computer on the other side of the bullet-proof glass window separating the two of us. In thickly French-accented English, she says, and I quote, "<i>It appears we don't have your passport or visa here.</i>" Obviously a bit flummoxed, I ask for clarification - afterall, I got a phone call from someone at the consulate telling me to come pick my visa up, an email saying the same, and the status from the visa application website finally got updated...<br />
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"<i>Eeets in zee mail,</i>" she says. In the mail? I was told there was a hold on my file explicitly saying NOT to mail it, so I explain how I spoke with DC and they spoke to their contact in the Boston office, confirming the fact that they wouldn't mail it. "<i>Yes, I know because I was that contact person, but we mailed it anyways...Next!</i>"<br />
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Thank God for that glass window, because I'm pretty sure I morphed into the Hulk when she said that and would have vaulted over the desk toward her at that point...I had all I could do not to burst into tears of frustration right there in the office and sadly made the long journey back outside to find my aunt. At this point, I was completely disgusted, discouraged, and really annoyed, and as I trudged across the street to rejoin my aunt in a park, I felt like Ralphie's dad in the following scene from the movie "A Christmas Story," sputtering an incomprehensible spew of obscenities....<br />
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<br />
After 5 minutes of angry tears, we resigned ourselves to the fact that all we could do was hop back in the car, drive all the way back to Westfield, and have faith in the good ole' US postal system that my passport would make it to me in time for my flight on Saturday...<br />
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Thankfully, at 5pm on Thursday afternoon, less than 48 hours before my flight to France was set to take off from Boston, the mail truck rumbled down my street and delivered my passport & visa back to me!!! Never have I felt so relieved. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this ordeal is the most stressful part of my entire moving-to-France experience, because I don't think there's any possible way I could survive being that stressed out again! I was aware that France is known for its crazy bureaucracy, but never did I think that I'd be so personally affected by it. In any case, my adventure can only get better from here on out!<br />
<br />Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com0Paris, France48.856614 2.352221900000017748.6894645 2.0294984000000178 49.0237635 2.6749454000000177tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6261312403541294137.post-49451387493276767462013-06-20T12:46:00.001-04:002013-06-20T12:46:48.991-04:00And So It Begins!Back in December 2011, while morosely watching the French mainland disappear far below me on a flight headed back to the US, never did I think I'd be fortunate enough to get to call France my home yet again.<br /><br />Thankfully, I was dead wrong.<br /><br />After all, when I was saying my teary-eyed farewells to my host parents Béatrix and Quentin, Béatrix told me it wasn't <i>au revoir</i> (good-bye), but more of an <i>à bientôt</i> (see you soon)...<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm0mNBnFt7KNz9jsREkZzpzf1gy5KKQa4PTnrxMwQhh2hFxwEvpsMlnV6njzlpA59iP8ePM-fGUfF6rcFvaLLkXr9XGobiRIYdfKqH45t8DDoN-JO2j6w0Gz-8fmvMA38y0nnWJgUzQ9A/s1600/Les+LeFrancois.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm0mNBnFt7KNz9jsREkZzpzf1gy5KKQa4PTnrxMwQhh2hFxwEvpsMlnV6njzlpA59iP8ePM-fGUfF6rcFvaLLkXr9XGobiRIYdfKqH45t8DDoN-JO2j6w0Gz-8fmvMA38y0nnWJgUzQ9A/s400/Les+LeFrancois.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">From left to right: Oscar (host parents' grandson), Lydie (his mom), B<span style="text-align: start;">é</span>atrix (host mom), Mathieu (host brother/Lydie's partner), Quentin (host dad)</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After graduating from Providence College in May 2012, I honestly had no idea in which direction I wanted to steer my life. Did I want to stay in Rhode Island? Move back home to be with my family? Look for a job far away? And what kind of job was I really thinking about getting anyways?! I decided to head home at least for the summer, spend it working my 2 part-time jobs, and hopefully save up some money before the dreaded school loan payments started coming due. While it was nice to be hauling in some easy money every week, I clearly knew that my fate did not include being condemned to work in customer service every morning and waiting tables in the evenings.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Itching to get a "real" job which was somehow linked to the French language, I started optimistically sending out my résumé to multiple companies looking for bilingual French/English speakers. From corporate customer service positions answering emails about Legos to manning phones all night long in case some French person calls in with a question about radios or vacuums, to translating foreign Ebay postings, to working as a translator at a big firm, I naively thought that I could get hired to do anything. Barely anyone speaks French out in my neck of the woods, and I got top marks doing French things in college, so I'd be in high demand, right? NOT.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wake-up call: getting a job right out of college in this economy is a lot harder than it sounds. Especially when you major in something as relatively obscure as French. But I knew that since I was passionate about the French language and not the least bit willing to just settle for any old job, I would keep on trucking and find my niche somewhere, somehow...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
And that's when I learned about the Teaching Assistant Program in France (TAPIF).<br />
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Every school year, the French Ministry of Education, in partnership with the French Embassy in Washington, D.C., hires over 1,100 Americans between the ages of 20 and 30 to help teach English in public schools throughout mainland France and its overseas territories. Since I couldn't get hired by domestic companies in my own back yard due to my "lack of experience in the field", why not shoot for the stars and apply to work for a foreign government? Move back to France for 7 months, get a job related to what I went to school for, and most importantly get that year of experience my résumé had been lacking...sounds like a no-brainer!</div>
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So, I applied to TAPIF and then found out I had to wait 4 excruciating months until they decided which candidates they wanted to hire. </div>
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I hadn't been using my French since graduation, really, besides listening to French radio on my computer, reading the occasional French novel and sending monthly emails to my host parents back in Paris. I happened to learn that my brother's school, Springfield Technical Community College, offered a certificate program in Medical Interpreting open to people of all languages. While I couldn't really envision myself in the medical field, I did have an interest in translating and interpreting, so I decided to enroll, figuring that at least I'd keep myself occupied until I heard back from TAPIF.<br />
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Not surprisingly, I was the only French-speaker in the class of 18 - everyone else spoke either Spanish or Vietnamese. We focused more on the guidelines of interpreting, ethical dilemmas, legalities, etc. but had some homework and role-plays during class in our respective target languages. I felt a little disadvantaged during the class as everyone else had a fellow student to bounce vocabulary questions off of, while I resorted to becoming extra friendly with my French dictionary. In the end, I feel that the class was beneficial as I got to use French again, gained some new skills as well as another line item for my résumé, and an honorific title - you can now call me Rachael White, TMI (Trained Medical Interpreter)!<br />
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A week before the class ended, I got a much-anticipated email from TAPIF saying that I had been chosen as a participant - finally! I was assigned a position for secondary ed (kids 11-18) in the Académie de Nancy-Metz, which is basically a broad area like a county in which my school would be located. This was my first-choice age group and region - I wanted to be able to have intelligent conversations with the kids I was teaching, not labor away on basic things like how to pronounce letters and numbers in English, and I wanted to be in a different region of the country than those I had previously visited or lived in.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://designetartsappliques.fr/sites/default/files/carte-de-france-450x450.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Acad<span style="text-align: start;">émie de Nancy-Metz is located about 90 minutes by train to the East of Paris, near the upper right-hand side of the <i>hexagone</i>, as France is called due to its 6-sided shape.</span></span></td></tr>
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Due to my love of travel, I ideally wanted to be located near the Eastern boundaries of France, as the country borders Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Switzerland and Italy to the East (as well as Monaco, Andorra and Spain in the South/Southwest), figuring that the closer I was to these nations, the easier/cheaper it'd be to explore them.</div>
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After being strung along another month and a half, I received a letter early this week with more precise information as to where I had been placed. I will be splitting my time teaching between two schools which are located in the same building, 4 hours a week at the collège (middle school) Jean Moulin and 8 hours a week at the lycée (high school) Jean Moulin in the city of Forbach. </div>
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Click <a href="http://goo.gl/maps/4zVT5">here</a> to see where Forbach is on the map. When I said I wanted to be close to neighboring countries, I guess I got my wish, because if you zoom in on the town itself (like <a href="http://goo.gl/maps/Wcg67">this</a>), I can literally stroll across the border into Germany from the town's northernmost edge! I have a feeling that I'll expand my German language vocabulary by living there - as right now telling someone my name (<i>Ich heiße Rachael</i>), stating that it's windy outside (<i>es ist windig</i>), and saying cheers (<i>prost!</i>) probably won't get me too far!<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Forbach is a city of 23,000 people located in the Lorraine region of France, in the Moselle <i>d</i><i>é</i><i>partement</i> (known for its Riesling and Gewürztraminer wines, among others!), an area of the country long fought over by France and Germany, and thus very rich in history. When I Googled Forbach, these were some of the pictures I found:</span></div>
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<img height="261" src="http://www.fordgpw.com/___Saarlouis_1944_-_45/SLS_Pictures/Pic_001_SB/Pic_002_SB_Marz_45/Pic003_Saarbrucken__22_Marz_19/276th_Inf._Reg._Forbach_Mar_1945.jpg" width="400" /></div>
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<img height="283" src="http://www.ajpn.org/images-comms/1241101639_Polizeibataillon_1940.jpg" width="400" /></div>
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<img height="237" src="http://www.trailblazersww2.org/trailblazerpics/forbach.jpg" width="400" /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Needless to say, the history buff in me will be very interested to explore the region and visit historic landmarks of the many wars fought in this area. The city also has more uplifting things there like old castles and churches, an annual Christmas market, and there are many museums and cultural attractions in the surrounding towns. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thankfully, and maybe most importantly, Forbach is located along the high-speed TGV train route between Paris (1:40 minutes away) and Frankfurt (2:10 minutes away), and it has a bus and tram line in town as well - I was nervous that I'd be stuck out in the boonies in the middle of nowhere with no way to travel anywhere! With friends who will be doing TAPIF in Paris and <span style="line-height: 107%;">Nîmes, as well as my host family in Paris and a good friend who lives just over the border in Western Germany, I am planning on doing lots of travelling and can now breathe a sigh of relief knowing that I'm in a position to do so!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">So that's my story...for now! Next up: working all summer, getting my French Visa, and booking my flight.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And in case you were wondering, the title of my blog (which I re-used after my Paris blog, <a href="http://rachinparis.blogspot.com/">http://rachinparis.blogspot.com/</a>), "<i>La Vie Est Ailleurs</i>," means "Life is Elsewhere" and comes from a contemporary French song I love by a French-Canadian artist who goes by C<span style="line-height: 107%;">œ</span>ur de Pirate (Heart of a Pirate). Check it out <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dua3J-ekMP8">here</a>!</span><br /><br />To keep up-to-date with my latest posts, you can subscribe to my blog by email by clicking the link after the comments section below this post, or follow me by clicking the link in the panel near the top right corner of this page. Feel free to leave your questions or comments below!<br />
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Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209760313083142019noreply@blogger.com1Westfield, MA, USA42.1250929 -72.7495380000000341.936707399999996 -73.072261500000025 42.3134784 -72.426814500000035