Wednesday, October 26, 2011

The Princess Diaries

une puce: a flea



It's been G.R.E.A.T. so far!

On Saturday I went to Monaco by myself, and then on Sunday I went to Grasse with Helen! (And I actually got her to take a picture with me! Unfortunately it's on her camera, so I'll have to upload it later.)

Monaco was SO BEAUTIFUL and so great. I got there at about 1 o'clock, found a little café, played it super French, ordered a hazelnut coffee and a chocolate croissant, and wrote in my journal for 2 hours. It was fan-freakin-tastic. Also, I'm not positive, but I either kicked a handicapped pigeon, or I handicapped a pigeon with my foot. It was under the table, got scared, panicked, and flew straight into my foot. The octopus foot. Then it was limping. I don't wanna jump to conclusions, buuut . . . I mean . . . I felt really bad. So I fed it extra croissant flakes.

Monte Carlo! Buy buy buy! Sell sell sell! Isn't that how gambling works?

Voila Monaco!

French roller coasters don't have seat belts . . .

Theeeen . . . I found an empty amphitheatre.

That was amusing.

Public fun with statues. Princess Grace's garden place.

Let's play a game . . . FIND THE POKEMON!

CASTLE. with guard. I could take him.

Then, last night I went to see Un Monstre à Paris with Helen and Zara (my friend from England). It was a children's movie, like a French Dreamworks, about a giant singing flea who lived in Paris. Seriously.
But it was SO CUTE. And I actually understood it! As it was a children's movie . . .

Here's the trailer in English.

So I'm leaving to go to ENGLAND in about 13 minutes, so I need to wrap this up.

Can't upload pics from Grasse right now. Due to lack of time.

Oh! And I ran up to the top of the mountain behind my dorm Saturday morning to watch the sunrise. It was beautiful and stuff.

And though this feels blasphemous, I must end on that note.

Until my return next Tuesday, I wish you well.

Amitiés :)

Monday, October 24, 2011

Creature From the Black Lagoon

Je parle plus (silent s): I don't talk anymore.
Je parle plus (pronounce the s): I talk more.

Now, on to Cannes!

Helen and I decided last, what was it, laaaast . . . well, a while ago, that we wanted to go to Grasse. But the Grasse bus took too long, so instead we decided to hop onto the Cannes bus. The ride there was so much fun, passing through various little towns. I wanted to stop off in ALL of them. Some even had castles! But we didn't. We plucked along all the way to Cannes.

Well, so I'm glad I went. But . . . I can't say I have much interest in going back. In fact, I see myself returning to Eze for a third time before going back to Cannes. (Also Eze is much closer.)

It wasn't a horrible and excruciating experience. Just not much to shine your shoes at really.

One example of movie related art on the side of a building. I strongly recommend you click on this picture to enlarge it. I had some zoomed in shots, but they didn't show the whole thing. Do it! Zooooom!

Went to a church. Met a seagull. Talked to the seagull. Was actively pursued by said seagull.

Three different views. Same vantage point.

I know.

I'm artsy AND touristy!

Anyway, that was Cannes. We ate at a really delicious créperie. And we almost missed our bus to get home. Well, we did miss our bus to get home. But there was a night bus. Yay night bus!

(Oh, and on the ride back, Helen was doing some schoolwork on the bus. This was on one of her powerpoints:

I am of highly doubting that Michael Jordan says this when he is little.


[Also, I came to a realization the other day, and I wanted to clarify something. Something I'm sure you've been wondering yourself. Well, I'm here to set the record straight and tell you that, no, I'm not schizophrenic. Helen is a real person. She just doesn't like me taking pictures of her. I've even threatened her with the fact that everyone I know and love would think I'd gone completely insane. Still no. It is kind of amusing to read back through some of the posts and imagine that I'm a crazy person with an imaginary friend. Fun times. Fun times.]


Theeen, this past Sunday (not yesterday) I went to Antibes by my lonesome. It was great. The weather was perfect. The water was blue. The sandwich was goat-cheesy. The gelato was fanTAStic. All in all a wonderful day.

I ate the view for lunch. And also a sandwich.

Flowers act as "picture enhancers."

 Oh, Antibes. Oh wonderful day. How beautiful you look in the sunlight in the warm autumn breeze in the south of France. I feel the frothy tide dance playfully around my feet as I sit, perched on a large rock. Writing in my journal. "Pros and cons of traveling alone." I feel the frothy tide, and, wait . . . hold on . . . something not so frothy. Something kind of slimy and solid and oooOOOOOMYGOD WHAT IS THAT

An octopus. An octopus was on my foot. Now I don't know if you've ever had an octopus on your foot, and I would venture to say probably not, but it feels sort of like a mix between jello and a soggy kleenex. And also slippery like those squishy cylindrical toys filled with colorful water and sometimes plastic dolphins.

Anyway, the octopus. On my foot. No bueno. So needless to say I jumped up like a popcorn kernel, nearly dropping my diary, and (gently) kicked/flopped the octopus away. It kind of sat there for a minute, til the water came back up, giving me time to fumble with my camera and snap this money shot.

Then it blobbed back into the ocean. Because it's an octopus. And that's where it belongs.

The rest of my time in Antibes was not nearly as exciting as the brief moment I shared with my 8-tentacled frenemy. But it was enjoyable nonetheless.


Also, new and interesting fact: toilet seats are not a universal truth.

Amitiés :)

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Little Miss Sunshine

J'en ai marre: I'm fed up.


I'm baaack!! And my computer's baaack!! And I'm laying on my baaack!!

It's been too long! How've you been? Good?
That's good.

. . .

The kids? The kids are good?
That's good.

Look, this is awkward for me too. Let's just embrace the temporary separation, and jump right back into things, 'kay?


So how long has it been since I first went to Eze? Honestly, I couldn't even tell you. Well, unless I went back through my previous entries to see where I wrote about it, but, as the teacher, I reserve the right to tell you to look it up on your own time.

A little bit about Eze (as I assume you've never heard of the place outside of this blog):

*20-30 minute bus ride from the Nice port
*VERY small medieval town up in the mountains overlooking the water
*Main attractions: castle, perfumery, grocery store, bus stop
*The castle--> def. : "a fortress woven with narrowly winding cobblestone paths along which small rooms and chambers have been converted into art galleries, shops, and cafés."
*There was a garden on the top of the castle with a 360˚ view of the surrounding landscape.

PHOTO MONTAGE!!! (beautiful, right?)

But, wait. You think this trip to Eze is over?? Oh, my naïve friend. You have no idea. See, because I was alone, and there's always always always a greater propensity to do stupid stupid things when you're alone, I decided to partake in the well-known "Chemin Frederic Nietzsche," a path that Nietzsche enjoyed walking when he lived in the area a long long time ago. (while he was writing Zarathustra, I might add . . . )
Avid reader, let me save you the trouble. If you don't have proper hiking attire, a walking stick, and a can-do spirit, DO NOT, and I repeat because some of you weren't listening, DO NOT choose this activity. I cannot stress this enough. Take a moment to remember what Nietzsche wrote about. Chew it over with a Twix. This is not Henry David Thoreau's favorite path. This is the path of the man who argued vehemently that there was no God. Do you realize, avid reader what you're getting yourself into?? Probably not! Because this is the sign:

"Look, Jeff! The bus station/beach is right over there!
Oh this way'll be much faster."

There should be a little mini-sign underneath that says:

"Hey! You, looking at the sign. Are you serious?? I'm sorry, do you not remember riding the bus up the mountain? I do. Are you having trouble putting 2 and 2 together? Let me give you a minute...
Okay, here's a hint, you're walking to the BEACH. From here. From the mountain. You're walking down a mountain. To get to the beach. In flip flops.
No view is worth that. Turn around."

Well, as is obvious, that sign wasn't there. So I did what any old Jeff would do. I traversed the mountain. In my sandals. The views were pleasant.

Somewhere . . . a sad hippie has lost his drums.

By the end, I discovered walking backwards was less painful on my toes.

So that . . . that was fun.


So, if I remember correctly, that was on a Thursday. Then, that Saturday, I went to Eze. Again.

Buuut! (before I'm labeled "lame" and "depressing") This time I had company! Six other girls from Italy, Germany, Belgium, and England came with me! And since I had visited the area two days earlier, they immediately deemed me the expert on EVERYTHING Eze-related. So, as the pathways are woven somewhat randomly in the castle, every time we came to a fork they would just stare at me til I decided which way was best. You know, for us locals.


Favorite picture of the day: we tried valiantly to get
a jumping picture with the camera timer.

I told you there would be a lot of pictures. Didn't I? Didn't I tell you that?

Well, at any rate, I will stop here. Take some time. Absorb these images. Commit them to memory. I'll come back later to write about Cannes and Antibes. Well, mostly just Antibes. There's not really anything special about Cannes. Really, the only interesting thing about Cannes is that, contrary to popular belief, there's not really anything interesting about Cannes.

Also I just discovered Muammar Gaddafi is dead. See how informed I am?

Amitiés :)
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