Olive Oil Out the Wazoo!

Ciao!

Oh dear, it’s been almost an entire month since my last post…again…I think my new year’s resolution should be to keep on top of my blog (and travel journal) writing. Today I shall address the short trip that took me to Siena, Italy.

When I visited the de Planta family at the beginning of the semester, Mr. de Planta suggested that we go to Siena, Italy during the month of October. Why then? October is the month of olive harvesting, and when those olives are pressed to make olive oil. I am a huge fan of olive oil, so I had to get my hands on some of that. Plus, Siena is in Tuscany, so…how is that even a question? That said, I knew I had to visit Siena in October. So after our EFT to Normandy, Kyle and I planned a trip to the small town and recruited people to come with us. However, since we planned it in such little time, most of the people I recruited decided not to go. So Friday, October 19^th, Kyle and I departed for the Lausanne train station at five in the morning, our bags filled with history reading and our notes from our classes (midterms started the next week, so the trip wasn’t too great of an idea, but I think my excitement about getting some authentic Tuscan olive oil overshadowed the reality of midterm exams).

Our first train ride was somewhat of a fiasco. I stayed awake to read the 300-page book we had due in American History the following Tuesday (not complaining, but our professor never referenced it in class other than our short, 30-minute discussion of the painfully boring book on the Filipino War) while Kyle passed out in his seat with his hood over his face to block the artificial light of the train. 

(sleepy Kyle)

The ride was lovely until we reached Italy (except for when I was hastily penciling in the date on my Eurail Pass and the ticket man told me to have the date filled in before the ticket man came on the train in Italy, since they would be harsh on me and take the whole pass away from me, despite the fact that I hadn’t used all of my ten days yet. Thankfully he let it slide, but I was a bit overwhelmed by this information). Then once we entered Italy, the police came. Oy vei! First, they came and took Kyle’s hood off and shook him awake (quite roughly). I didn’t realize they were police, and when they said something in Italian, I thought they wanted my ticket, so I got my seat reservation and Eurail out. When I presented it to them they looked at me angrily and said “passaporte” and rolled their eyes at me and started laughing at me. So I presented my passport, offended that they would be so rude (yes, I do know that I am a “dumb American,” but hey you can’t expect me to know Italian!). Literally two minutes later, another pair of police came to ask for our passports. This time we had a much better interaction, but they still seemed to be angry. Then, another two minutes later, another pair of police came to check our passports. I was so confused! If they already had two pairs of police come through the car, why would they need another one? Why would they need more than one, anyway?

We arrived in Milan a few hours later, and had an hour to kill before our next train to Firenze (Florence), so we walked around the city just a tad and spent a little too much time in the Sephora at the train station. 

(The view of the train station)

(The view of the street from the train station)

Then we were Florence-bound! We hadn’t reserved seats for the journey home, but since the Italians seemed to be sticklers of having a reserved seat, we decided it would be best that we played it safe and ensured that we wouldn’t get a fine for not reserving seats. So we stood in line for about half an hour to reserve seats. Our next feat was to find the bus station that would have the bus to take us to Florence. After about thirty minutes of looking and asking around, we finally found it, and departed on the next bus! One hour later, we were in Siena! (Tangent: my favorite part of the trip up to that point was when we were driving through Firenze and an old man ran up to the bus stop we were stopping at next, thinking that we were on the bus he needed to take. But when he realized it was not his bus, he started laughing. His laughter filled me with joy and made me smile like a Nordstrom model, as Kyle would say). When we arrived in Siena, the bus crossed a bridge that overlooked a valley filled with olive trees and Tuscan-looking houses. I just about died. It was so gorgeous! And was better than I had imagined it would be!

Finding our hotel was also a challenge. Apparently we had to go to a restaurant to check in since it was owned by the same people who owned the restaurant. We searched for about twenty minutes before asking a man in another restaurant where we should go. Finally, we found it and were given our key. After settling in and resting for a little bit, we decided to peruse the shops along the street we were staying on. Since the city is so small, there are hardly any cars, save for the occasional police car. So walking around wasn’t hard, except for all the people out too. After a few hours of walking along the street and checking out the shops (they had a shop filled with Pink Panther purses and computer cases!!!!!), we noticed a pathway into a huge square, and came upon the Siena clock tower. The buildings around the square were arranged in a semicircle, and were comprised of restaurant after restaurant. So we decided to eat there! And since we were in Italy, we had to get pizza. Which was amazing. And of course we had to get some Italian red wine. Which was also amazing. But really. My mind was blown by how amazing the food was (and it was cheaper than in Switzerland! It’s always a relief when a pizza doesn’t cost CHF 25, which is about $28). 

(yes!)

(delicious pizza!)

And I was also amazed by how warm it was – I was sitting outside at 8 PM with a skirt and short-sleeved shirt on in the middle of October. You can’t even do that in New Mexico, for goodness sake! In addition to good food, I had quite good company. Kyle and I had a great conversation and ate our dinner as the Europeans would: nice and slow with a lot of conversation in between. When we were done with dinner, we meandered back to the hotel and fell asleep quite easily after a long travel day.

We slept in the next day, and explored the city even more. At lunch, I bought a piece of rosemary bread so I could make my dad envious. We saw the Duomo of Siena, which was gorgeous! Then we decided that we needed some gelato. Kyle’s friend told him of a gelato shop in Siena called Kopa Kabana that he had to try, but when he had looked it up on Google, it gave him three different addresses. So we ventured onto an unpopulated side street and decided that we would get gelato at the next gelato place we passed. Literally one minute later, we saw Kopa Kabana and literally screamed with delight that we had found it! We each got our two scoops and went back onto the street, excited that we had found the shop! Kyle noticed that I had gotten more than I did, and was confused, but I wasn’t. I explained to him that we were in Italy, and that I was a girl. That’s all that was to it. So he lived on in envy as I ate my excess of delicious gelato.

(rosemary bread!)

(gelato!)

We continued along the street and yours truly was in an artsy mood, so we took a while to stop and take picture after picture on the streets. Then we heard drums, so we went to see what was going on. We came upon a pair of young boys dressed up in medieval-looking garb doing a flagging dance, with another young boy playing the drum and an instructor. 

(flagging dance)

(the view of the valley)

We watched a few minutes, then crossed the street to walk through a small park, which overlooked the valley of olive trees and another courtyard with a flagging dance, which we watched as we finished our gelato. Once the dance and our gelato were finished, we started to make our way back to the bus station. I had wanted to buy some Siena olive oil, but sadly didn’t find any until we were almost at the station. I bought myself a beautiful bottle, and we left the city.

The rest of the trip went smoothly. Well. Almost. When we got on our train to Milan, Kyle and I went to our reserved seats only to find an older couple sitting in them. We explained that we had reserved the seats, but the man said that he and his wife had tickets for the seats. Since we didn’t want to kick the couple out of their seats, because the train was almost completely full, and because they were older than us, we let them keep their seats (confused as to why we had to pay for seats we couldn’t even sit in since they were somehow double booked) and instead sat in the space between the cars. Half an hour later, we walked back to see if any seats were open (we had made a stop or two), and when we saw no adjacent seats open, we decided to go back to our gangway seats. However, the man who we had talked to before asked two men across the aisle from him if they could both move next to the window so Kyle and I could sit in the seats, so we moved to the more comfortable seats for the remainder of the journey to Milan. Our train to Lausanne presented no such difficulties, and we returned home and went to sleep early again to make up for an exhausting travel day.

Things I learned:

-The Italians are so outgoing and nice

-My brain doesn’t switch between languages easily – I was constantly saying merci, oui, bonjour, je voudrais, and s’il vous plaît when speaking to the Italians, and didn’t start saying sí until I got back to Lausanne (fail). Thankfully, they were gracious and helped me out and understood me

-Pizza really is good in Italy

-Italians are much stricter than the Swiss on the trains

-Italian policemen still scare me!!!

-I love Tuscany

-Long train rides + reading Benevolent Assimilation = no fun (actually I learned this with Leo Africanus when I went to Cannes, but this book was much worse since it wasn’t fiction)

-The cappuccinos at the café across the street from the Firenze train station are cheap and really yummy

-When you have a book due the week of midterms, study for midterms instead of forgetting about them

Many, Many Norman Cows!

Bonjour!

Oh my goodness. It’s been a whole month since the last time I posted! Whoops…it’s been so hectic and stressful here, and I’ve honestly forgotten about catching you up with my travels! I’ll try to address each week/weekend within the next few days, but in multiple accounts.

Normandy EFT:

After only being in the Lausanne house for ten hours, I had to get up early Monday morning (October 8^th) to leave with “Group 1” for the Geneva airport (the program was split in half – Group 1 got the luck of leaving early and having to wait for Group 2 for a few hours in the Paris airport). The bus ride to Geneva, along with the flight to Paris, was uneventful, seeing as pretty much everyone else was asleep. Once Group 2 arrived in Paris, we were given about twenty extra minutes to get food, and took off for Caen. That evening, we settled into our hotel (in which our rooms were like little apartments, which fit four people – two pairs of roommates), and went out for a group dinner. Because I was exhausted from going to Oktoberfest, I went back to the hotel and slept.

Tuesday we took off in the rain for the beaches. We stopped first at the World War II and D-day Museum, which was a lot to take in. A lot of the images really hit home, so that kind of made me a bit emotional. Then we drove a little bit along the beaches and ate lunch at a cute beachside restaurant, and spent our two hours almost exclusively in the restaurant talking to the three other people at my table: Nathan, Erin, and Kyle. Then, we headed out to take pictures and meander across the beach. After our lunch break came to an end, we went to the American cemetery near Omaha Beach. My emotions ran wild. Sure, I’ve been to big cemeteries like the Arlington National Cemetery in D.C., but it’s never hit home like this before. I realized that these fallen soldiers did not only fight for our country’s freedom, but also for the world’s freedom. Wow. The world’s freedon. And thinking about this made me disappointed and embarrassed that I never learned about D-day in middle or high school. The sheer weight of this realization, along with the numerous gravestones, names of unfound soldiers engraved on walls, and the rainy day brought me down. On top of that, we were all given a rose to put on a gravestone of our choice. I found (with Kyle’s help) the gravestone of a New Mexican soldier who had died in the war, and placed my rose next to Rito F. Arellano’s grave. This was the last straw, and I broke out into tears, just thinking about how honored his family should be, that their son, brother, or husband fought for such a worthwhile cause and gave up his life so others could. It was a bittersweet feeling, since I was so grateful for his service, but also sad for his family.

We then visited Omaha Beach, and got to walk on the sand that thousands of brave soldiers walked on coming out of the sea before heading back to Caen. I grabbed dinner with about eight other girls, and then went back to sleep. Overall, it was a contemplative and emotional day. But I was glad that I got to realize just how momentous D-day was.

The next day we went to Mont Saint-Michel, which was pretty awesome! We stopped for lunch just outside the city, and the meal was the most delicious food ever, and the butter we had was prime, and made from the milk of Norman cows, which we learned from our tour guide, were colored with three different colors in splotches all over their bodies. Anyways, lunch was fantastic, and I would go back to Normandy if even for an hour just so I could eat at that restaurant again…sorry I’m not sorry. We then went to the city and were given a tour by our respective tour guides (each group had its own bus, and its own tour guide as well) of the city and the monastery. After that was done, we were given a few hours to walk through the city, during which Kyle and I got crepes and sat on top of the walls overlooking the mainland and the city. Once our break was over, we went to a different city and moved into a different hotel. As with the previous night, we all separated for dinner. And like the previous two nights, I returned directly to the hotel to go to sleep early.

(Mont Saint-Michel)

Thursday we didn’t really do much. We took our buses over to Honfleur, and were given two hours to explore before lunch, during which I walked with Nathan and Kyle around town and looked at shops before going to a park (I also bought a Pink Panther music box! WIN!). Lunch that day was great – I got to eat across the table from our director’s son, Tristan, who was such a delight to fool around with. I laughed more during that period of an hour and a half than I had laughed since probably the past Saturday. So it was a good day. After lunch, they gave us another hour and a half to explore the city before moving on to the next city and hotel. This time I walked with Celeste, Corinne, Jordan, Alex, Ryan, and Dan to a candy store. But when Corinne and I went to the bathroom, we got separated from our group. So we just explored the city a bit and ended up back at the buses at the denoted time. From there, we got to the next city around three in the afternoon and were allowed to go explore. Unfortunately, we were staying in the sketch part of town, so we had to take the metro to the nicer part of town. The group that I was with was being picky about food, and were also upset that none of the restaurants were open. It was 5:30, and in Europe, restaurants close between meals, so they probably weren’t going to open till 6 at the earliest, I explained. Nobody wanted to wait, so we went back to the mall near our hotel in hopes of finding food. All we could find was Chinese food and a Subway, so…we ended up eating at a McDonald’s nearby. Correction: everyone but me ended up eating McDonald’s. So that admittedly put me in a bad mood, and I returned to the hotel as soon as I could and just relaxed until bedtime.

Friday was our departure day. But before we left France, we went to Monet’s garden and house. Of the two hours we spent there, I spent a good hour and forty-five minutes taking pictures of the flowers and lily pond with Tristan (his nickname is T) and Kyle, and only fifteen in the house itself. But the flowers, combined with the gorgeous magic hour light of the morning, made for some great pictures! And T gave me a few flowers, so that was pretty awesome, too (we’re BFFs, just in case that isn’t apparent)! After a quick lunch, we got a group picture and went back to the Paris airport and flew back to Geneva. Since we didn’t want to wait for Group 2 to get to Geneva, Kyle, Richelle, and I went back on the train, which was a great idea, since the group didn’t get back for at least two hours after we did, and I had complete access to the Ethernet cords. Which never happens. Because of this, I got to Skype one of my best friends, Susan!

All in all, it was a great week. Some things, like our tour guide with her hilariously and sometimes obnoxiously high voice (saying “There are many, many Norman cows in this region,” or “There were many, many soldiers who fought here” – “many, many” many, many times), were kind of frustrating, especially since we were all sick with something, whether the twenty-four-hour flu or just really terrible colds. But our EFT was a great experience! And I’d have to say my favorite parts were when JJ (one of our RAs) was imitating our tour guide’s high-pitched voice. It was hilarious! But really. And my other favorite part was when Richelle (who’s our media coordinator) bought a small stuffed seal and started taking pictures of it on top of people who were sleeping in the bus. At one point, I tried to get one of her while she was dozing off, but she woke up just as I got it!

Well. That was Normandy. This account of my past month shall be continued…

À bientôt!

The Hills are Alive With the Sound of Music…and Beer

Bonjour!

This past week has been so insane! I can’t even believe I left for Austria and Germany just eight days ago and for France just five days ago – it’s felt more like two weeks at least, mostly because I’ve been going nonstop since last Friday morning. With that said, commence: recap of the past eight days.

Last weekend was the last weekend of Oktoberfest, and the first weekend I had planned with my group in advance (i.e., I planned this trip the first week we were here with the other fourteen people I went with, instead of deciding two days before departure where we were going). While it was nice to have definite plans before departing, it wasn’t necessarily the best plan, particularly since we didn’t know who we would be hanging out with, and who we would be comfortable traveling with (I already knew I didn’t like big groups, but I let that slide when I sat down with the group to decide on the weekend plans that first week in Lausanne). Since all of the hotels and hostels in Munich were completely booked for that weekend, we decided to stay at a hostel in Salzburg, Austria and take a two-hour train to Munich for the festival. So we picked our train to Zurich, from Zurich to Salzburg, and back to Lausanne from there. And those were our plans.

From the time we booked our hostel to the night before we left, I completely forgot how many people were going on the trip. Twelve girls and three boys. When I finally realized that my hostel room was a twelve-girl room, I kind of freaked out, knowing that I wouldn’t get much sleep. I also wasn’t very close with anyone else on the trip, save for Kyle and Madison. But I learned that three other girls I was more familiar with, including the two other girls I had traveled to Cannes with the previous weekend, were also going to Salzburg and Munich, I was relieved. We were all on the same trains to Salzburg and back, so Kyle, Madison, and I decided to spend the journey and the time at our destination with the three other girls – Sarah, Richelle, and Lauren. The rest of my original group split up, anyway, so I didn’t feel so bad.

Friday morning we started our journey to Salzburg at six o’clock. About eight hours later, we were in Salzburg. Lauren, Richelle, and Sarah were staying at a hotel, so they split off from our group, planning on reconvening at the fountain from The Sound of Music at 4:30. My group split, too. Half decided to try to find the hostel and the rest of us took the bus to get there. By the time we had figured out which bus to take and where the hostel was, 4:30 was already long gone. And the rest of our group was somewhere in Salzburg. We decided to walk to the fountain, where we took picture upon picture and sang the Do-Re-Mi song while skipping among the arbors (which was recorded, of course!). Someone in our group got in contact with one of the girls who had split off to walk to the hostel, and told them to meet us at the fountain. Once they made it there, we walked to the center of town to find somewhere to eat, which took a good, long while. Surprisingly, we bumped into Richelle, Sarah, and Lauren, who were happy to see us, since we hadn’t established when to meet the following morning at the train station to go to Munich. They had eaten at an Italian restaurant that we had passed, and recommended it to us. Since the rest of the group was having trouble finding a restaurant that would serve all fifteen of us, Kyle, Madison, and I split off to go to the restaurant, fine with breaking off from the group. They ended up following us anyways, but Kyle, Madison, and I ate at our own table (Sarah, Richelle, and Lauren went off to explore while we were eating, and planned on meeting us outside of the restaurant at 8:00). We all ordered pizza, which was actually quite cheap, and delicious! No joke, it was the best and cheapest meal I’d had all semester. We then met the girls outside and walked along the streets, where we saw a marching band comprised of about twenty middle-aged to older men. They were so nice, too, smiling and waving at us! Everyone wanted ice cream, but all of the ice cream whops were closed, so we ended up going to McDonald’s, which was also surprisingly good, and classy. Who would have thought? Since we were all exhausted, we went back to our hotel and hostel, respectively, for a good night’s sleep.

Saturday morning, we woke up early to make an early train to Munich. Half of my group was taking a taxi to the train station, but I wanted to walk, since I needed exercise and didn’t want to have to pay. Only I didn’t really know how to get there. Thankfully, we ran into the girls again and they remembered how to get there. The train ride over was gorgeous. There was mist lingering over the green fields and mingling with the tree branches. At one point, we passed a lake surrounded by mist with a small mountain in the background, where the sun was just peeking out of its covers. The scene was indescribably beautiful, but my roommate was right to say that the mist was mystifying. About halfway to Munich, though, a blood-curdling scream echoed through our train car, followed by sobs and continual screams, al coming from one woman sitting on the floor on the far side. It jolted every single soul in the car awake, as if we’d just taken about five shots of espresso, nervous energy coursing through our bodies. The screams went on for about ten minutes until a train official came to try to calm the woman down. When she refused to stop, he stuck something in her mouth and started dragging her to the adjacent car, which was filled with compartments, at which point she started kicking at him, trying to prevent him from taking her away. After about ten more minutes, she was allowed to come back into our car, and for the rest of the trip, our whole group was hyper attentive to the woman. I prayed a silent prayer, hoping she would find peace and safety with whatever her situation was.

We arrived in Munich. And stood among the Germans decked out in traditional lederhosen and dirndls. My group was lingering in the station for a while, so my small group took off, following the swarms of Germans, obviously heading towards Oktoberfest. Once there, we took the obligatory group picture in front of the Oktoberfest sign at the entrance, then charged in, ready for the craziness that was about to ensue. We stood in line at the first beer tent, but that was taking far too long, so we walked until we found a tent with fewer people waiting in line. Once allowed to enter the grounds the tent was standing on, we had to wait outside until summoned inside by an usher. At the door, another usher checked our bags, and took our water bottles (which I was upset about – I had seen them throw out other peoples’ water bottles, and he had taken my Pepperdine water bottle!). Then, we walked around the whole tent, looking for a table that could hold the six of us. That didn’t happen. But I was amazed at the efficiency of the waitresses, who were carrying out at least eight steins of beer at one time (steins weigh probably about five pounds, between the glass and the liter of beer inside), and baskets of huge pretzels. And if anyone got in their way, they would get quite angry and throw death glares to the perpetrator. So I learned to keep out of the way. It was also amazing how early these people were drinking. It was only about 9:30 or 10:00 when we got into the tent! After walking around the tent once, Madison was stopped by a security guard, who kicked her out. Since she was in the back of the group, nobody noticed. Thankfully, I saw her talking with the guard, and stopped for her. She was carrying a backpack, which was apparently illegal inside the tents. So we all followed her out, I got my water bottle, and we waited in line again, only this time to get into the grounds again, but to sit outside of the tent. Which was nicer. Only we didn’t get to witness firsthand the Germans singing songs and screaming inside when people were chugging their beer, I presume. Kyle had a liter to himself, and us five girls shared another. I learned that beer is not my thing. I can take it for about two or three sips, but after that, gagging sets in. Which is sad, since this was good beer from Germany. Oh well. At least I drank some.

After drinking our beer, we bought HUGE pretzels (which I will never eat again…) bigger than our faces, and walked around Oktoberfest, which we discovered was also a carnival with roller coasters and Ferris wheels and rides! We all bought our souvenirs (I got a humorous Oktoberfest postcard and a stein) and went on a ride before walking around a little more and leaving. We finally got back to Salzburg around 3:30, with more than enough time to explore. Kyle, Sarah, Lauren, and I rented bikes and rode around the city, with The Sound of Music soundtrack playing on some speakers in the basket of Lauren’s bike (Richelle and Madison stayed in the square and drank coffee for the two hours we were gone). We biked to the girls’ hotel, then along the countryside to the backside of the Von Trapps’ house. Then, we looked for the convent, but couldn’t figure out how to get there, so we rode along the same two roads for about twenty minutes until we finally asked, and figured it out. From the convent, which was on top of a huge hill, I could see the whole city and countryside. The view was amazing. I couldn’t believe the beauty of Salzburg.

We then met up with Richelle and Madison again and sat at a bench on the square, where we bumped into a different group that had gone to Oktoberfest the day before, which my two sorority sisters had traveled with. We took pictures and talked about our Oktoberfest experiences for about an hour, and then my group went back to the fountain to take more pictures and videos of us singing Do-Re-Mi among the arbors and fountains and steps, just as the Von der Trapps did in the film. Basically, it was amazing. We got dinner again at the same Italian restaurant and went back to where we were staying. Since we were there earlier than the rest of our group, and Madison and I didn’t have a key to our room, we ended up hanging out with Kyle’s roommates from Texas and talking with them about Oktoberfest and their European adventures. Then the group came home, but three of the girls who had gone with them were missing, and had been for the past twelve hours. So we all worried about them. Apparently, they had gone on a ride and were supposed to meet with the bigger group in five minutes, but they never showed up. After looking for them for an hour while at least one person waited at the designated meeting place, they decided to move on and hope that they showed up. Thankfully, they came back to the hostel at about 10:30.

Sunday morning, we woke up and went out to the gazebo where “I am sixteen, going on seventeen” was filmed. It was set in a huge park in the countryside, which we walked around before arriving at the set. At the park was a pond with fish literally bigger than my torso, many trees turning red and orange at the onset of autumn, a pretty legit playground, a flower garden, and a vast field of grass.

We sang and took pictures by the gazebo before playing on the playground. It was rainy, which I would normally find a nuisance, but on that particular day, I found it calming and reassuring. Then, it was time to head back to the bus stop to catch the bus. Halfway up the hill, we saw the bus pull up, so we all started sprinting to catch it. Which was probably the hardest thing ever, considering I had my purse filled with stuff, my bag with my heavy stein, and my backpack. Somehow, just somehow, we made it to the bus right before it took off, and ran on, sweating, laughing, and exhausted. It took us to the train station, where we waited for our train to Zurich. Which was supposed to get in at 4:20. Our train to Lausanne was supposed to leave at 4:32. However, our train got to Zurich at 4:31, giving us one minute to get from platform eight to platform seventeen. So what did we do? We ran like bats out of hell across the train station. The last leg of the run was up stairs to the platform. Kyle started taking them two at a time like a champ, and I tried, but after one set of two, I couldn’t take it, literally saying that I couldn’t do it anymore, fearing that Kyle would be the only one to make the train while the rest of us were left going up the stairs one at a time. Somehow we made it, and with several minutes to spare. Which is surprising, knowing the Swiss and their impeccable precision at leaving right on time. Of the twelve other people from our group on our train, only three others made it to the train to Lausanne (haha, it sounds like I’m talking about war casualties here!). This train, like the last one, was uneventful, and we arrived in Lausanne on time, ready to hit the sack, but needing to pack for our group trip to Normandy in just ten hours.

To be continued…

October 3, 2012: Leigh Goes To France (Twice!)

Hello,

First off, I would like to apologize for going MIA over the past few weeks. Life in Lausanne has been pretty hectic with all the traveling, classes, and homework I’ve had. I didn’t think it would be this crazy being abroad. On that note, let’s talk about traveling, Lausanne life, and my life.

My first weekend of travel outside of Switzerland was phenomenal. Like the first trip, I made plans at the last minute. Where did I go this time? Nice, France, with Kyle. We both wanted to travel there at one point during the year abroad, and we had no idea what we were going to do the weekend of September 21-23, so Kyle made the executive decision on Wednesday night that we were going to Nice. We hadn’t purchased Eurails yet, and the trains to Nice were already filled, so we ended up flying there – a round-trip cost of 80 CHF (Swiss Francs). Good deal, huh? So Friday the 21^st, we woke up early to get to the train station before 6:15 (our train to Geneva airport left at 6:19) so we could get to the airport about two hours early. Which, in America, is a good idea. That is, there was absolutely nobody in security when we got there, and nobody even got to the gate until about twenty minutes before we boarded (lesson learned for next time). So we had a good few hours to get some reading done. We then boarded the plane, spent a short hour in the air, and landed in Côte d’Azur airport in Nice. From what I saw through the airplane window, the color of the Mediterranean was gorgeous. When we got to the promenade (about an hour later, since we had to buy a bus ticket into town, then wait for about the fifth bus that came, since so many people were getting on the buses), I could not believe what I was seeing: a beautiful gradient of blues stretching from the waves breaking on the rocks to the horizon. Not to mention, some of the blues I was seeing were my favorite colors. It was absolutely breathtaking, and I kept on taking pictures (none of which are even close to doing the Mediterranean any justice at all).

We weren’t able to check into our hotel until two o’clock, and it was about ten when we arrived at the Côte d’Azur, so Kyle and I walked along the promenade, gaping at the color of the water; watching the bikers, runners, and roller skaters; taking picture after picture; soaking up the warm and comforting sun. We stopped at a restaurant across the street from the promenade and ate lunch there (we had wanted to eat at one of the restaurants on the beach, but we decided to save a lot of money and go for the cheaper alternative – we are starving college students abroad, after all). We then walked down to the beach, laden with rocks instead of the sand we’re used to, and sat there for a while, soaking up the sun, as well as the panorama.

The next order of business: figuring out where in the world our hotel was. Luckily, we had remembered to print a map of the city; however, this map didn’t label any of the major streets, which was unhelpful, to say the very least. All we knew was that it was to the north, it was near the train station, and it was on some road that was not labeled on the map. So we decided to get a little lost. In the process of getting lost, we discovered the main road in Nice, the one that practically everyone walks along. It was kind of an accident. We decided to cross the road parallel to the promenade and search behind the buildings for a road that was labeled on the map when we came across a plaza with a large fountain and large, white figures seated on top of tall poles. The road behind the fountain looked pretty busy, so we walked along it, trying to find it on the map (strange how the most populated street wasn’t even on the map…). After a while, we started looking at the map less and less and looked at the shops more and more. Finally, we came across a sign indicating the direction of the train station. Knowing the hotel was in that direction, we took that road. Just one road down from there, I found our hotel. Almost by accident. I was just looking at the stores and restaurants to my left, and happened to see the small sign of our hotel on the side of a building down the street. We arrived precisely at two o’clock (and I had been nagging Kyle that we left too late…oops). We checked in, got our key, and settled in. Then changed into our swimsuits and went back out. We meandered along the main road (Jean-Medecin), this time paying more attention to the shops and restaurants around us. At the beach, we didn’t get in the water all the way, but just waded in, the water reaching our knees, at the deepest point. I had wanted to swim, but the water felt too cold. So we collected sea glass instead. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks and of the water dragging the rocks back down into the water was relaxing. Collecting the glass was even more relaxing. Though the rocks were uncomfortable on my feet, once I reached the second layer of small pebbles, standing was much more manageable. I didn’t feel like I had an agenda (I didn’t have one to begin with…but still), but like I could spend all day collecting sea glass and admiring the rocks, most of which were marked with a singular straight line. The combination of sound and activity brought me into a peaceful state, and I was so happy to be spending my time in the salty water, grabbing for little winks of green sparkles before the waves came to hide my treasure again.

After we spent a good few hours at the beach, we headed back to the hotel to change for dinner. We had no idea where to go for dinner (there was a McDonald’s near the hotel, but as luxurious as that sounded to me, I decided to go for something a little less appetizing), so we walked along Jean-Medecin until we got to a more populated place. We found it at Old Town. For half a mile there was literally restaurant after restaurant after restaurant on both sides of the central aisle, which was filled with tables (which were packed with people) covered by large coverings. I wasn’t very hungry, and was craving calamari, so we found a restaurant that looked good and that had cheap-ish calamari and sat down there. Our waiter was so cool. Hands down. We started speaking in French, but then he started speaking in English to us (I found that frustrating, since I wanted to practice my French), but he was so entertaining! He told us about how he knew about five different languages, since so many people from around the world visit Nice. I can’t remember all five, but he knew French, English, Italian, German, and a little bit of Japanese. Cool! Kyle decided he wanted wine. I was going to get just water, but our waiter suggested the royal mojito, so I decided I’d try it since I know absolutely nothing about different drinks and, hey, I might as well try it (it’s so weird how we’re actually able to purchase alcohol here. I almost feel like it’s against the law!). I finally got my calamari and Kyle got some seafood dish (mine was better). We then returned to the hotel.

Commence Saturday: We woke up late and went out for brunch, stopping at a café on the main road. They had a plate of four pancakes for four euros, so we jumped on that. Ha. The pancakes were literally smaller than my fist. So that wasn’t too filling. We sat there for a little while before walking through the Old Town market, held under the coverings where there had been a million tables the night before. Vendors were selling flowers, vegetables, cheese, fruit, calzones. Everything. Then, we went up to the citadel at the end of the promenade and walked up 450 steps total (that’s my workout for the year!). The view of the Mediterranean was absolutely stunning! Again, pictures don’t do it justice. Since our breakfast was so small, we had to get an actual lunch to compensate for it. So we went back to Old Town to get some Focaccia. Which wasn’t too appetizing. Nevertheless, we returned to the hotel around four, changed into our swimsuits again, and decided we were actually swimming this time. The water was still cold and I didn’t want to go in at all, but then Kyle got in and I figured that I might as well get in too. It’s a once in a lifetime thing, anyways. So I got in, body freezing, and started swimming. Our goal was a wall of rock near the citadel about a quarter mile away, if not more. I didn’t think we’d make it, but we did! By the time we got there, my body was so cold and numb that the water actually started to feel warm at times, particularly when the waves were rising under me. Since we didn’t have the energy to swim back (hey, we’re not Olympic swimmers, guys), we waded in the shallow water, while also swimming to keep our feet from hurting. Again, we collected sea glass until we were pretty cold, and returned to the hotel to change for dinner.

Nice is only a twenty-two minute train away from Monte Carlo, so we decided we’d try to go over there. Unfortunately, the ticket vendors in the train station didn’t work – we had to have a special microchip in our credit cards. Additionally, the ticket station was closed, so there was no luck for us to make it to Monte Carlo. Admittedly, that put me in a bit of a bad mood, and the slightly disgusting pizza I had at dinner didn’t make it any better. So we went to sleep and woke up early in the morning again to make it to the airport.

Sunday: Our bus to the airport was late. Twenty minutes late. You’d never see that in Switzerland. So I was freaking out, and we were ready to somehow find a taxi on the street at 5:30 on a Sunday morning. Thankfully, the bus came just as we left to find a taxi. And thankfully we only had to pay two euros instead of the possible fifty for the taxi. And thankfully, we arrived at our gate five minutes before boarding. The flight home was nice, but Geneva was cold and cloudy, such a drastic change from sunny, warm Nice. I was so exhausted from the trip that I couldn’t do homework (okay, I could have, but when I tried, I just ended up passing out again), so I took a nap instead. And that was Nice.

Cannes & Monte Carlo

Before I’d left for Nice, I had planned on traveling to Paris with my two sorority sisters on the program with me, along with about eight other students. However, being the noncommittal girl that I am, I didn’t end up going. Instead, I made plans to travel to Cannes and Monte Carlo with three girls in my program: Madison, Sarah, and Richelle. At first, I wasn’t enthusiastic about the trip, since I’d been just forty minutes away from the city the previous weekend. Even as the week progressed, and the amount of reading I hadn’t done increased to an unmanageable amount, I still wasn’t sure. But I found myself walking out the door at eight o’clock on Friday morning to the Lausanne train station.

Our day of travel lasted a good ten and-a-half hours. When I first discovered this huge chunk of time, I wasn’t too happy, but given the 350 pages of reading I had to accomplish over the weekend, it turned out to work perfectly (I read about 290 in the eight hours we spent on the trains during the day!). We only had one stop that was longer than twenty minutes, which was in Lyon, France. There, we got some food before traveling on to Marseilles, having seven minutes to run to the other side of the station (there were at least fifteen sets of tracks, so that was a long way) to get onto the train that would take us to Cannes. However, the three-hour train ride to Marseilles was an interesting one. In Lyon, Richelle and I stopped to get some coffee outside the station while Madison and Sarah went inside to withdraw some euros, all of us agreeing to meet on the platform. Seven minutes before the departure, Richelle and I walked up to the platform and looked for our two companions, but we couldn’t find them. Thinking they might have found seats on the train, we went inside to look for them. To no prevail. The train was practically full and they were nowhere to be seen. Panicking, we went back out to the platform, hoping that they had appeared. No luck. Richelle and I went back in, and still couldn’t find them. Only when we had two minutes before the train left did we find Sarah and Madison, walking up to the train. We ran on and went up to the second story of the double-decked train. There, we saw a woman and a girl in a section with five seats. The woman had about four bags. Richelle asked her if we could sit there, and so the woman grudgingly moved her huge backpack and luggage out of the way. Richelle found another place to sit, so that the three of us could be together, and so that the woman could still keep her spot. However, the woman must have thought that we were all going to sit there, so she skulked on the stairs, even though there was a seat open next to me. At one of the proceeding stops, two Spanish women boarded the train. After examining their outfits and some of the conversation and gesticulations, the three of us came to the conclusion that they were gypsies. Once the gypsies, the woman, and the other girl got off the train, Richelle moved over to sit with us, and the rest of the train ride was much more comfortable than touching knees with a stranger playing Call Me Maybe and other music obnoxiously loud on her phone.

The train to Cannes wasn’t much better. Since we boarded it a little more than two minutes before its departure, there were literally no open seats on the train at all. So we spent one of the two hours standing. I had no issue with it, except for the fact that it was hard to read what with all of the swaying and keeping myself upright and not infringing on any of the other passengers’ personal bubbles. After the first half, though, we were all able to move to seats. After a long day of traveling and reading, we were in Cannes.

We then checked into our hotel, which was so gorgeous and nice. It was much better than the slightly sketchy hotel I’d stayed at in Nice. Starving, we headed out for dinner, meandering along the streets until we found the auditorium of the Cannes Film Festival! We marveled at the celebrities’ handprints and got pictures in front of the red carpet and with the festival’s symbol. Then crossed the street to get dinner at a pizzeria. After a long dinner filled with lots of laughs and pictures, we returned to the hotel to sleep.

Saturday: We woke up at 8:30 to gray skies, rain, and warm air, ready to get breakfast and explore the city. We planned on going to a crêpe place Sarah read about in a travel book, but couldn’t find it, so we perused a market across the street and went to a coffee café instead. After drinking some delicious rose and raspberry white tea, we went back to the auditorium to visit the tourism office and to purchase our souvenirs: a Film Festival symbol key chain and postcards for me. Hungry because the café didn’t have any food, we got burgers at a place near the Mediterranean, then set off to explore! On our way past the harbor, we stopped to take pictures of the boats displayed as part of a boat festival. At one point, I started laughing, and one of the men on one of the boats started to impersonate my laugh, at which point I stared at him, confused for a second, but realizing what he was doing. He added a thumbs-up, which I took to be a sign that he liked my laugh (I mean, who doesn’t? Although my friends always joked in high school that one day I’d meet a really cute guy and we’d hit it off, but then he would make me laugh and I would close my eyes. Then, when I opened them, he’d be gone since my laugh is so atrocious. However, to my credit, I did find a boy who doesn’t run away when I laugh!).

We explored. We found a street that had many little shops selling jewelry, hats, dressed, scarves, touristy accouterments. Then, since we wanted to spend half of the day in Monte Carlo, we went back to the hotel before going to the train station to change into dresses, since jeans and T-shirts are frowned upon at the ritzy casino. At the station, we tried buying our tickets, but like my experience with Kyle, the machine wouldn’t accept our credit cards. Thus, we had to buy them in person. The next train didn’t leave for an hour (one had just left two minutes before we had been able to buy the tickets, unfortunately), so we walked around town a little more, stopped at a super awesome store that had everything from iPhone cases to furniture, and got macaroons from a shop close to the hotel. We then returned to the station, where we bumped into some Japanese guys who had also had issues buying their tickets to Monaco, at which point they started asking us to take pictures with them. Which was slightly awkward. But an hour later, we were in Monaco! I could tell it was a rich place just by the train station: the floors and walls were immaculate and clean – nothing like the other stations we’d been to in France so far.

Because I was so paranoid about the Japanese guys following us, I suggested we take another way out, which took us to the top of a really high hill, which was not where we wanted to be. So we had to go all the way back to where we started and go out the exit we should have exited. Once we found the harbor, though, things got real. These Monacans were rich. All their boats were decked out with more boats and ski jets on them. I think one even had like two boats, along with two jet skis. Crazy. And then there were the yachts that were practically cruise ships. No big deal. They probably have soirees with their 500 closest friends every week. Anyways, we picked out the palace, and walked up about 150 stairs to get there. After we’d taken enough pictures, we walked along the small streets on the ridge and bought souvenirs (Yes, I bought I heart Monaco underwear…) before seeing the cathedral and oceanic museum and getting dinner back by the harbor. Our next goal: Monte Carlo.

We arrived at the casino, mouths gaping. It was so gorgeous. And we were going inside. After taking lots of pictures of its grandeur, we ascended the steps and handed the guards our passports. We were cleared. And inside of the Monte Carlo Casino. Unreal. The inside was gorgeous beyond belief! Marble and gold leaf ceilings and motifs and paintings. Sadly, we were unable to take pictures. But before leaving, Sarah and I got five one-euro chips. Which was scary, to say the least. We had no idea how to do it, but then finally found out how after about twenty minutes of stressing and asking questions. Then we left, having not gambled at all. But I don’t know how to play roulette, so it’s probably best that I didn’t try. Once outside, we took more pictures, and then went back to Cannes, where we got some ice cream from an ice cream parlor. Then bed time!

We woke up on Sunday and headed home, a twelve-hour day ahead of us. Two hours in, I finally finished Leo Africanus, so then I started to finish my American history text. We spent an hour and a half in Marseilles (the dirtiest city I have possibly ever seen. It was disgusting.), and two in Lyon again. By the time we got back to Lausanne, I was finally done with all my reading! Weekend two outside of Switzerland: completed.

I know I said I’d talk about Lausanne and stuff, but that’s going to have to wait. This took a lot longer than I expected, and I have a math test in about seven minutes. So…until next time!

Au revoir!

Leigh