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[bslack12]

Paris Solo Day and Wrap Up

As the final hours of our class in Paris begin to wind down, it was time to put a bow on the three week experience. Despite my continued solo adventures across Paris, even across France on one occasion, it was time for this seemingly natural action to be required. However, this excursion would be out of my hands, as I would be presented a destination that I would need to go to.

For me, this was the Conservatoire National des Arts et Métiers and its corresponding musée. After departing from Saint-Sulpice in the 6e, I began my stroll down Rue Bonaparte and towards the Seine. My ticket appointment was not until noon, so I took advantage of the almost two hours I had in the bank to enjoy a walk along the river and go against the gradient of the snail through the 5e, 4e, and eventually the 3e arrondissements. Along my walk, I decided to go up further and go across L'Île Saint-Louis in order to get into my district for the day. Needing to find a bathroom and stop for lunch, I made my way down the Rue de Rivoli for a mid-day break. After enjoying some fish and chips at a café, it was time to venture north and find my destination.

Upon arriving, I was quite excited by the antiquarian design of the building, which had been a priory until the revolution. The historic nature of the founding and site, as well as the dedicated works on display, were right up my alley. I made my way in and started to go through the collections, which featured a physical timeline of innovations in measurement, transportation, communication, energy, mechanics, materials, and construction. I think my favorite section would have had to have been the first one on scientific measurements. I think one of the more fascinating byproducts of the French Revolution was the way in which the metric system was developed. I also find the way in which official, but sometimes arbitrary measurements perpetuated inequality and poverty is such a fascinating principle that is often overlooked.

Another wonderful use of the space was how the old church was turned into a temple to science. With planes hanging from the ceiling, cars on display on multiple levels, and a Foucoult pendulum at the center, the best place to view everything was by climbing a ramp that led you to the top of the room, on level with the peaks of the stain-glass windows. It was an unreal sight, and you could appreciate the beauty of the art and architecture of the church from a whole new perspective.

Afterwards, I sat in the small garden on the ground to just take in the surroundings, as well as catch up on postcard writing, before setting off for another sight that had piqued my interest. On my walk to the CNAM, I had passed the Archives National and decided to go if I had time. In an old mansion with a grand courtyard, the museum itself was small and one of its two exhibitions (Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette) was closed, but I still went in and was immediately greeted with the constitution of the 5th Republic. The opening room had various sections on the history of record-keeping with examples that I was perusing when an employee offered to take us through the apartments upstairs. Whether this was a part of the museum that happens regularly or something unusual I did not know, but I went up with the other museum patrons. Here were more stunning documents within French history including: decrees from Charlemagne and Hugh Capet, the last letters of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, a sketch of Joan of Arc from the Parliament de Paris, the Edict of Nantes, the Tennis Court Oath, and a journal from Louis XIV. One document that they had that was not on display though was the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen, which I was hoping would be shown when I had first passed the building earlier in the day.

It was then time to make my way to the Weeping Willow at the very tip of L'Île de la Cité. So, I embarked towards the river and headed along the right bank until I reached Pont Neuf where I crossed and descended at the Henri IV statue and met the class. We had a nice picnic and everyone shared their solo day and it was a nice wrap up for our penultimate meeting as a group.

For our last full day in Paris, I got an early start and metroed to L'Arc de Triomphe for a walk down the Champs-Élysées and towards the Concorde. Now that the Bastille Day setups were taken down, I could finally take in all of the place and fully see the Luxor Obelisk (although constructed had the walk up to it closed). I then went to the steps of the National Assembly, by the Élysées Palace and through the Tuileries before taking a train back to Luxembourg. It was nice to take in the iconic sights of Paris one last time.

For our final class meeting, we met at an Amorino in the shades of the Pantheon to get gelato to eat in the gardens, even though everyone was done eating before the walk was over. Here, it was time to wrap up A Moveable Feast as well as out time in Paris. It was a nice discussion but I was just relishing the last moment of community between the 11 strangers that I had come to befriend over the month of July. I was quite wary about this aspect coming into the trip, as was bracing for the worst, but I actually made some great friends and am thankful for everyone who made my first time in Paris so special.

After returning to Maison des Mines to pack and nap, a few of us set out for one last night in Paris. We started with a French three course meal on a side street off of Rue Saint Jacques. I started with the escargot, obviously, and tried rabbit for the first time. I then finished off with a nice crème brulée. My favorite part about French food was definitely all of the new meats that I got to try and I liked every single one of them. It is also quite fun to eat snails and tell everyone back home that they are delicious. To finish our stay, we went to the giant roue in the Tuileries for an amazing view of Paris. Thanks to a bathroom break and the opportunity to watch the ducks of Paris, we showed up at the perfect time, as we got to take in an amazing sunset, see the flashing lights of the Eiffel Tower, and enjoy one final, beautiful night. As we disembarked, it began to sprinkle, but it was the perfect amount of rain that makes you enjoy the world and brings the most wonderful smell to your nose. After taking in the Louvre lit up, we walked back along the Seine to the Petit Pont and took Rue Saint Jacques to the building that had become home.

Waking up this morning, it was a stark find to see the opposite half of my room barren, hammering the reality that my time in this city was at its present conclusion. After a shower and final packing, I set out to a nearby café, broke my fast, and took in my neighborhood for one final time. I then walked to the Luxembourg Gardens for another stroll within the beautiful grounds before retrieving my bags and heading to the RER station.

Now, I sit at Charles de Gaulle after going through security and passport control, awaiting my return to the United States. These three weeks have been the absolute best time of my life and I feel that I have grown up so much and in ways that I will not even know for some time. Going abroad on my own, learning a city in a day, planning my own trip, and just exploring a world so different from my own have been so rewarding in so many ways that I will always hold onto. I hope to be back in Paris soon, but I do not know if any time here will ever be like my first. The length of my stay has allowed me to do so much and feel like I truly know Paris; I do not feel like a small blimp in the chaotic comings and goings of the city. The memories that I made here will always be special to me and I hope to draw on them frequently as I continue to move through my own journey of life.

Until next time,

À Bientot, Paris. Je t'aime.

[bslack12]

Hemingway Hunt

Stop 1: Place de la Contrascarpe

Upon arriving at the Contrascarpe, I can understand the words that Hemingway used to describe the square. Although, I think that "cesspool" is too harsh a word to describe the activities going on tonight. It seemed like the rightful amalgamation of the Rue Mouffetard, as people swarmed about, sat, ate, and drunk around a center that was anything but the top tier of Parisian life. Yet, it provided an adequate space for the task at hand, an aspect that I think drew Hemingway to the area.

If I were transported, Midnights in Paris style, I think I would see Hemingway at the spot of the current Café Delmas. Although he frequented the Café des Amateurs, the geographical clues led me to Delmas's place as a gateway to the place. It seemed like the perfect place for the write to place himself and watch over the rest of the people gathering within their own lives. The vibe of this café also felt different than the rest of the bustling square, as it gave off a peaceful allure juxtaposed with the surroundings.

Stop 2: Hemingway's Apartment

While it was no mansion on L'Île Saint-Louis, the exterior of Hemingway's former apartment did not appeared to be covered with squalor. However, recent advancements and a famous former tenant might have helped in that department over the past century. The one thing that these things can not really change, however, is the size. It still appeared small as he described it. For this reason, it makes sense why he would sojourn the city and find havens to work in. I can say that I have done the same thing, with the exception of the first day. I am always looking to explore and find some new part of the city. Here I can find adequate space for my mind to roam that my small dormitory can not provide.

Stop 3: Writing Studio

Next was a stop on the Rue Descartes where the old studio of Hemingway existed. Upon viewing the exterior, not much appeared that much different than his apartment other than the more secluded nature of the building within the protection of the alley. I imagine that the top floor apartment of Hemingway was situated on the corner, allowing him to have a view unique and more than what was directly in front of him. He does not seem like he would enjoy the simple view.

Stop 4: The Quais of the Seine

After taking a steep walk down the Rue Cardinal Lemoine to the Seine, much in the way that Hemingway described in A Moveable Feast, we reached the heart of Paris. I perused the quais many times during my time in Paris and loved to look at the selection of books, postcards, maps, and tchotchkes that the sellers had to offer. Like Hemingway, I was able to find a couple of stands with large collections of English language literature, but I do not think that I can agree with his conversation with the seller who says the English books are cheaper. I found they were usually the same price and it depended more on the quality of the book rather than the language of publication. Although the tourist nature of the city that has rapidly expanded in the century that separates the two experiences is sure to have contributed to this change in price trends.

Stop 5: Shakespeare and Company

Although the store is in a different location, I can imagine how an environment like this might entice Hemingway. (However, I feel this would require the absence of the tourist crowd.) The antiquated atmosphere surrounded by literature is a bibliophile's dream, and it even makes me think of my mom, an English teacher who loves the works of the great American.

Sitting at the balcony, I can understand the ways in which Hemingway wrote, looking out onto the bustling Parisian streets, felling the air and hearing the noise from a café table or a window. The room that we are in contains such a vast amount of knowledge that radiates the Paris of times past. For a brief moment, the modern world ceases and I feel as if I am enjoying Paris for what it is and becoming devoid of my tourist nature.

Stop 6: Gertrude Stein, Musée du Luxembourg, and Hunger Walk

It must have been quite nice to have a friend whose house acted a cutting-edge museum of its time. The way Hemingway describes her relationship with Ms. Stein always struck me as odd, as he consistently tried to justify his mooching and provide forty year old testimony that she was okay with his continued visits, even if she was gone. Whether or not she was okay with it, his judgement of her lifestyle, in conjunction with his views of homosexuality that he describes in the book, makes it hard to believe how they could be such good friends, at least before Hemingway had to cut the line at the incident.

Close by was an actual museum that Hemingway frequented as he took in the Impressionist art of the generation before him. From the way that Hemingway describes the works in the Luxembourg, they were the masterpieces that have since been transferred to other, more grand museums in Paris, yet the small building still functions as an art museum, where this summer, they had an exposition from the Impressionist time period on the brother of Claude Monet.

Hemingway described the museum as a place that he loved to frequent hungry, as it made the paintings more meaningful that way. He also describes the daily basis on which he would not eat because he enjoyed hunger and it would not always come to him to need, causing his wife to force meals at point. I think this is an egoists' attempt to hide the true poverty that he was living in at this point, but nevertheless, it is possible to retrace the steps of the neighboorhood that he frequented and often walked around hungry. Among these places are the Rue de Vaugirard, the Rue Férou, and the Place Saint Sulpice. At the latter, you can be surrounded by food and an amazing square full of nature and the wonders of man kind.

Stop 7: Brasserie Lipp

Hemingway, despite his dramatics about hunger, recalls much about the restaurants and cafés that he frequented, providing a map to the best spots to eat and drink if you were a struggling writer in the 20s. Some of these places are still in existence today and you can enjoy the same meals that Ernest did. One of these is the Brasserie Lipp, where he described stopping after he realised that his time in hunger should find a brief respite. At Lipp's, Hemingway describes eating potato salad, sausage, and bread while drinking beer and reminiscing on his past endeavors in writing, including when he had first left journalism to pursue writing and the time his stories were stolen at a train station. While not direct, there is a connection from his hunger to the failures of his career: the change in work, the stolen stories, the failure to be published consistently. He is sitting at that spot with those feelings because of those failures and it has made his life into what it was at that time.

Stops 8&9: Café de Flore and Les Deux Magots

Among the other places of food along Saint-Germain that Hemingway felt necessary to describe in his memoire were the Café de Flore and Les Deux Magots. These buildings that oppose each other are still here and offer a great view of urban life within the 6eme arrondissement. I can understand why these would be among the rounds of his writing spots because one can easily blend in and become one with the surrounding environment and lose oneself within thought.

Stop 10: Michaud's

While the restaurant that Hemingway mentions as being the haven of James Joyce and his family is described by Hemingway as being a luxury to him, it is now no longer in existence. Yet, he mentions two different meals that he has at the restaurant, displaying its importance. The first time is when he and his wife Hadley decide to splurge and have a grand meal during their times of hunger. He then tells his audience of another meal at the restaurant that he has with F Scott Fitzgerald when Hemingway does quite the job at telling an embarrassing story of his (at the time of writing) deceased friend and colleague, not so subtlety hinting at his opinions on the merit of Fitzgerald as a writer in comparison to him through a much more lewd euphemism.

Stop 11: Hotel d'Angleterre

The English Hotel looks much nicer and classier than a place that would welcome a fresh Hemingway into the city of lights. However, this was the place where the young family made their first roots in Paris. We could not go inside and see the garden courtyard, as it was limited to patrons only, but the area seemed quite nice and a great way to get acclimated to the city.

Stop 12: Natalie Barney

Our last stop among the traces of Ernest Hemingway in Paris led us to another salon of twentieth century artists, this time the apartment of Natalie Barney. It is quite odd that all of these famous people ended up in the same circle, even before they really had any notoriety in some cases. Whether those in the know had really good judges of success or it was a serendipitous occasion by the universe, the amount of namedropping that an unknown Hemingway would have been able to make is remarkable.

Conclusion:

In reflecting on A Moveable Feast, I think the title is very apt for the way that Hemingway looks back on his time in Paris, and not just because he talks about food a lot. The nature of Paris is one that does not require stagnation. It is always possible to pick up your life and find a new area, and still be full and content, no matter the struggles that might be present. The feast is what the city brings to you and the life that it infects you with. You can find yourself anywhere in the city, or the world for that matter, and still be nourished by the culture and magic of Paris. Hemingway was hardly ever in the same place twice when describing the different stories of the book, yet he was always able to carry with him the spirit and freeness that Paris allowed him to live with.

It was very hard at times to take Hemingway seriously, as it felt like an old man rambling on into nonsense as he tried to reflect on life. At the same time, though, it felt very much like he had an agenda and was set on leaving a legacy about his early years that was worthy of someone of his fame. For these reasons, I would find myself gawking at the selective randomness of the stories that he told. However, I did enjoy the elongated sections on Fitzgerald especially, as the interaction between two of America's greats, as told by one of them was never what I expected. It almost felt like a sitcom when Hemingway described their dinner at Michaud's and subsequent trip to the Louvre, or their trip to Lyon that was the exact opposite of smooth.

I think my favorite line would have to come at the very end when Hemingway reflects on his entire time in Paris: "...it was always Paris, and you changed as it changed." I think that the power that I have felt from the city over the past three weeks is summed up perfectly in this quote. There is so much history to this city that has shifted for thousands of years, but the constant only comes in the name and place. There is always something new to be had in Paris and something old that will be a relic of the past. Being able to experience this once has impacted my life in ways that I am not even sure I will fully comprehend by the next time I return; however, I know that I will return home as a different, and hopefully, better man because of my time here.

[bslack12]

Versailles and Week 3

If someone asked me where heaven on Earth was, I think I would have to say Versailles. Everything there seemed absolutely perfect, even when it was crawling with thousands of people in tourist mode. The thought of living there or taking in the grounds in full serenity has me wanting to restore the French monarchy with me at its head, that is how much I loved being there. As much as Paris is full of life and people and culture and everything great about humans, the grounds at Versailles contained everything great about nature and the peace that it can bring, not to mention there is also a gorgeous and massive palace as well. They are really a perfect balance for each other and I understand the desire of Louis XIV to move out to wonderland.

The day began with a rough patch, though, as transportation changes sent us on a wild goose chase around Paris to find the right combination of trains that would take us out into the Île-de-France. However, after a nice train ride where I was able to finish A Moveable Feast, we finally made it to the city of Versailles. After getting off at the train station, I don't think I realized how close we would be to the grounds. In my mind, there was nary a town in sight, but the front of the palace buts up on the Versailles that has been built since the time of the early Bourbons. Yet, when I first saw the golden gate and the façade of the central hunting lounge, I was immediately transported away from the surrounding civilization.

Once we were in the palace, it was a madhouse that featured a very fast walk through. I wish I would have had more time to just soak up everything and wander into the other parts that we did not see. Yet, it was still amazing to just grace the halls and consume everything that I was seeing. The display of power and opulence through the architecture was amazing to behold and witnessing what I had heard about for so long was so much better in person.

Yet, as much as I loved the palace and would love to reside there, the grounds, I think, are what makes Versailles the epitome of royalty. It is a massive complex that is full of natural beauty at every turn, perfectly complementing the man made beauty of the palace that looms over it. The first steps outside were reminiscent of what I imagined the Château was like, with nothing but nature as far as the eye can see. It was bliss.

After a nice lunch in the shaded trees, we were able to do the coolest thing in the world in my opinion: row a boat down the Grand Canal at Versailles. I had never rowed a boat before, but I wanted to pilot very badly and the rest of my group was happy to cede the physical labor to me. After learning the maneuvering, it was the best part of the day, as I just took in everything around me, including the ever-shrinking palace, the woods, the animals, and the water.

It was then time for the Trianon estates, which were very lackluster compared to what we had just seen, yet amazingly elegant in the broad scheme of things. But, when we made out way to Marie Antoinette's Hamlet, I was once again transported. I actually understand her desires to live the life she never could, while also keeping her wealth and status and facing no real consequences (until the women took her away). What is so wrong about finding a way to escape into our own utopia? And, I also understand why that place would be her Utopia, as the seclusion and design of the complex is perfect for escape.

It was then time to make our way back, which included a foot race that I won. Taking in everything for one last time, it is just amazing to be in the presence of something so perfect.

As my time in Paris is coming to an end, I just consider myself so lucky for my first time in the city to be so thorough. When I was in London, I felt so rushed and unable to do anything, but that has been the opposite here. I have loved absolutely every second of this trip and being able to explore a city that I had learned about and dreamed about for years in a manner that is so thorough. I know that in any other circumstance this situation would be impossible, so I just try to take advantage of opportunity that I have been given by those who care about me and make the most of every second. I would not recommend going to Paris in any other way, because the city is then able to see you when you are here for so long. I also would always suggest to be a little crazy and go do everything that is humanly possible while you are here, checking off every site to see and enjoying every experience with the people you are with, as well as enjoying the experience with yourself.

[bslack12]

Art, Art, Art, and Sports

The past two days have been probably been the most art I have consumed in that short of a period in my lifetime. Yet, despite my existence currently inhabiting Paris, this segment of time does not feature the Louvre or the Musée d'Orsay. It also does not only include happy stories and enjoyment.

Upon my first viewing of the itinerary, I knew that the class components of this stretch would be my least favorite of the trip, and it was not even close. Not only were the plans going against my preferred taste in art, but it included my participation in making said art, an anxiety inducing trigger in me that takes on of the top spots on that list. I have never been good at art and have always been told that, so I have always steered away from that field. I do not like to do things in which I know will fail, as the aversion to anything but success is what guides my life. Furthermore, I feel like there is a block in my brain when it comes to creative things; it truly feels like there is nothing clicking, a feeling which I never get anywhere else and is quite scary as much as it is annoying.

Nevertheless, when in Paris, right?

I actually consider myself quite lucky to have found a program in my favorite city and country in the world that is so geared towards my interest that I am all in for 90% of the course. So, I sucked it up and was going to make the best out of this stretch. Sunday morning started with a trip over to Saint Sulpice to take in my first mass, which happened to be in French. It was an amazing building and a beautiful service. I was able to pick up bits and pieces and connected the leftovers that did not get scratched during the reformation to what I experience back home in the United Methodist Church. It was also cool to complete another part of my unofficial Da Vinci Code hunt, finding what I assume was the inspiration for the "Rose Line" in the church. (I added another stop this morning, finding one of the Paris Meridian markers at the Louvre.)

It was then time to head over to the Atelier des Lumières for the immersive art exhibit. While I enjoyed the shows for a little bit, I was not captivated in the same way that I have been in other places. First of all, the exhibits were a little to modern for my taste in art that centers in Baroque, Classical and Romantic periods. I also just felt that, if I am viewing art in Paris, it should be firsthand, not a light projection of a painting somewhere else. However, it was much better than I thought when I first read the itinerary and the way that we were immersed in the art was way more my speed than when I though I was going to have to make something.

To continue the theme, though, we headed over to the Petit Palais to view the works housed there. This wasn't initially on my big to-do, but it was something I just stumbled on during the Bastille Day all nighter, as I saw that their collection was free admission and was connected with Beaux-Arts. I would have to say that my favorite spot there was Dutch/Flemish painters and their Baroque landscapes/still life, as I had not really seen much from this time in the other places that we went. I really enjoy how this type of art manipulates the light by darkening things out and drawing the viewer the the subject of the painting. I was also really drawn to a David piece, The Death of Seneca. The was it was positioned in the gallery was such that the painting was almost divided into two, with the glare cancelling out the other half of the frame. It added another dimension in the division between the men and the women, who were already separated by the emotions they were exuding as well as the meridian of the canvas.

The day ended with an interruption to the theme of art, although I would argue that the purity of sport and the grace in which athletes perform can be its own category of art. The Para Athletics World Championships have been in town all week and as it is the only live event of note happening in the city during my stay, it felt my duty to attend for a night. It it quite impressive to watch the para athletes perform, as they push past physical, mental, and financial boundaries to pursue competition at the highest level. It was also nice to see the event treated as any other sporting event would, not being othered because the athletes are handicapped. My favorite event had to be the universal relay, where runners from four different classes come together to run a lap.

Moving over to today, I had another early start. After waking at 7 and immediately getting ready, I headed down to the Louvre to complete my aforementioned Da Vinci Code stop, grab a quick croissant and tea, and stroll through the Tuileries before reaching the objective of the morning, La Musée de l'Orangerie. Since hearing about it on our first day in Paris, I was determined to make it here and see Monet's Water Lillies. So, I rose early and arrived at the museum when it opened. I did not realize it was so important to pre-book here, but it was not a problem as I did not have to queue for more than 5 minutes. Once I was inside the room designed specifically for the masterpiece, I was stunned by how massive they were. For some reason, I had not realized how grand the canvases were. It strikes you immediately and does not allow for any view of the room, or a singular painting, to be the same. I really enjoyed just sitting and strolling through, working my way around the 8 panels and enjoying their beauty, from close and afar. I was probably down there for over 45 minutes and it was wonderful. I made my way through the other halls of the museum, but there was not much else that was in my area of enjoyment and it was close to time to leave for Bercy anyways.

This was where my own personal hell would come to life. I would enjoy and learn about the arts all day, every day, but I usually draw a firm line on doing it myself. My mind is moving too fast to slow down and translate anything from my head into existence. Yet, I still had to sit down and do it so I gritted my teeth and tried my best. The act of spray painting itself was somewhat enjoyable but it was very frustrating not having the physical ability to replicate the quality of the examples and the work of my peers. I was very much on edge during this, especially when I had to contribute to something that I knew everyone else cared a lot more about than me. I tried my best to slow down and not rage out, but I was mentally exhausted by the end of it.

To try and work myself down, I went over to the Hôtel de Ville to finally see the Olympic Rings before a leisurly walk along around L'Île de la Cité, beside the quais of the Seine, and down Boulevard Saint Michel to Maison des Mines, where I was feeling more of myself upon my return.

[bslack12]

Musée d'Orsay Monologue

Alors

Based on "Étretat: la plage et la porte d'Amont" by Claude Monet (1883)

Alors

That is a man who gets it. No need for the mess of plage, escaping away to the wonders of beyond. I hope he is going beyond the bend, nesting in the lone place of sanctuary among the rocks, as the rings of chaos slowly die out and, all of the sudden, are replaced with the crash of waves.

I have no idea why my father needed to jest him as he moved past. The whole of the coast is reminded of who we are with a mere turn of the shoulder away from the horizon. The chateau looming large and prominent and elegant and all of that other shit that Father is obsessed with portraying. I would very much prefer the solivagant's trip to ours, a drunken voyage to nowhere further than the perfect place to show the beach of our presence. I am not even given the pleasure of being out of ear's reach to the ruckus of the people, a cruel insult to the only tranquil respite I receive in my summers away from the city.

I quite wish that I had my own boat with which to join the solivagant. However, I would never impose upon his utopia, as I could not fathom someone doing me the ungodly favor of returning that gesture.

Alors

My solace for today will come from the solivagant, and the idea of his journey into paradise.

[bslack12]

End of Week 2 and Montmartre

As someone who had not been an enthusiast of the arts for much of my young life, I am quite content that I have nurtured a continued growth for all things artistic over the past five years or so. I used to think that going to the art museum with mom would have been the worst punishment in the world, but just before we left we went to both a museum and a botanical garden in a week span.

I think I can trace this shift back to a trip to Washington D.C. in 2018, when beforehand I had complained about museum travel, but then fell in love with the Smithsonian and all the different areas with which the museum had a dedicated section. I also remember the National Gallery, where a da Vinci, one that no one really revered or cared about other than the fact of its author, connected me to the rest of the world. It was not just paintings, as architecture, music, botanics, and many more of the humanities other than pure history had suddenly begun to grasp my attention. I think I had strayed away for the longest time because I was very bad at art and music, and did not want to spend time with things that I was not the best at. However, as I matured, I realized that I could appreciate these beauties while also being content in the fact that my talents lied elsewhere. I began to take classes on art and music that focused more on the history of the subjects, and I loved being able to have a new repertoire of facts to immerse myself in.

Flash ahead to this month and I find myself in the capital of the arts world. Everywhere I turn and there is something new to marvel at and lose myself in thought if I give myself the chance. While the museums have been great and I think that I explain them deeper in other posts, I think my favorite art of Paris is what surrounds me all the time. The city itself is a masterpiece, with each street, building, lamp, gate, doorway, etc. giving itself to a new detail of the work. The architecture is just absolutely stunning and I still can not get over the beauty with each building I look at brings me. From the wonderful palaces to the uniquely Paris apartment buildings that come to their peak at the corner of a triangular block straddling two streets, there is always something wonderful that makes Paris the city that it is. One of my biggest gripes with America is the absolutely eye-wrenching design of most of the country for the sake of commercial interests. Square, plain buildings exist in large spaces with nothing but parking lots surroundings, creating eye sores wherever you look. It has been so nice to just appreciate what civilization can look like with effort, a care for history, and the eye of design at mind.

Moving on to today's events, I had finally recuperated from my Bastille Day adventures to attack another day in Paris. I decided to get another check off my list, going to the Hôtel de la Marine after breakfast. I had my interest piqued during Week 1 after I saw an advertisement for an exhibit with the tagline "Quand l'Anglais parlient français". I had been wanting to make it over for some time, so I ventured over to the Concorde and began my tour. It was like the museum of the future, with self-service kisoks, guided headsets that played recordings based on location, and dark rooms with special lights. The permanent collection included anceint works from around the world, while the temperary exhibit, on loan from the Victoria and Albert, was a cool look into medieval England and its relation with France. The rest of the building was decadent, as there were halls colored in gold, beautiful salons, and a great view of the Concorde.

It was then time for class at Montmartre, where some of the best views of the city were seen. Sacre-Cœur was stunning (another great example of architecture in the city), but I really enjoyed the old village of Montmartre, with the tiny, cobbled streets that went up and down with the hills. These moments are the ones where I feel blasted into the past and just relish the amazing society around me.

The day was not done quite yet, as stops at the Place Vendôme and Pond de l'Alma added some great sights and walk to the day and checked off a few more boxes on what seems like a growing list of things I want to do in my remaining days in Paris.

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Les Catacombs de Paris

As the holiday weekend approaches up, there were still classes to have and sights to see. Before our off day on 14 Juillet, it was time to visit one of the city's most famous sights. We were told it was a miracle that our group got tickets, and while I thought that my trip would have been just fine in an alternative situation, once again, Paris was there to throw my doubt right back in my face.

I started my morning, however, with some reading in breakfast in the shadows of the Palais du Luxembourg, an amazing way to kickstart what turned into quite a long day/night/day. After a metro to Denfert-Rochereau, we we finally able to descend hundreds of feet below Paris into the world of Charles-Axel Guillaumot. His story was an absolutely fascinating one to read, as his architectural passions turned into an obsession with Paris, something that seems normal until you know that the Paris that he is concerned with is only inhabited by bones.

Once we were down below, it was a nice little wind through fixed up quarries that, at a time, loomed over, or more aptly under, the safety of the city. My head was brushing the top of the ceiling at most time, so my walk included a lot of ducking; it is a good thing that I am not claustrophobic.

Once we entered the "empire of the dead" , it was an absolute wonder to see the endless rows and tunnels of neatly stacked bones ornamented with skulls in various patterns. With the skulls themselves, it was unreal to see the injuries that had most likely inflicted death upon another human in hundreds of years past. There were quite a few bullet holes, but the ones that remember most were a pair that looked as if it had been stitched together. It was such a cool experience to be transported underground and just walk along lines of history right in front of your eyes. While I thought it would just be bones and bones and bones, the story of Guillaumot, the display and arrangement of the catacombs, and the simple truth of the experience itself was quite remarkable.

After our walk-through was complete, I made my way across the street to the Musée de la Liberation. It was very cool as I got to learn a lot about an aspect of World War II that is not focused about much in the US, but it the entire story of the war here. It was not a large museum but it was super informative and full of neat artifacts from the time.

I made my way back to Maison de Mines at a time early than no other during this trip. This was because I needed to nap and prepare my body for the daunting challenge of a Bastille Day all-nighter that was to begin Thursday night and last until after noon on Friday.

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Roland-Garros and the Palais Garnier

The second Wednesday of the term was quite a long one. I woke up and immediately readied myself for an adventurous day. Having the morning and afternoon to myself, I had already booked a tour at Roland-Garros, the sight of the eponymous tournament colloquially referred to as the French Open. The journey pushed me passed the Boulevard Périphérique and onto the edges of the Bois de Boulogne.

After emerging from the Métro at Porte d'Auteuil, I wandered around towards Le Parc des Princes, home of Paris Saint-Germain. After wandering around the circumference of the stadium, I made my way up to the hallowed grounds. After a nice haul at the boutique, I met my tour group and got to see some wonderful sights. We went to the top of Court Phillipe-Chatrier, looking onto the amazing red clay court as well as the entire complex that spawned from the beating heart of French tennis. We then went down to the media area (a nice sight to see given my line of work), which is quite a bit nicer than the facilities at the Boone, or let a lone Rupp Arena or Kroger Field. After a trip through the locker room, we then made our way courtside and it was spectacular. Years of seeing the court on TV were finally in my face and it was one of the best experiences so far. The grounds are truly a temple to the sport and after seeing the outside of the All England Club last summer, it was especially cool to go inside.

After my tour ended, I had a nice lunch at a brasserie before heading into the Bois de Boulogne for a nice afternoon hike. I started inside the Hippodrome d'Auteuil, which had an infield full of other sporting fields to go along with the steeplechase track at its exterior. It was cool to see how Paris had combined the space to be useful when it is not racing horses. I then went into the forest for a nice hike that transported me into a world that felt miles removed from the metropolis of Paris.

My walking adventures were not done, as I headed to a Metro stop about a mile away to get a train to Trocadero, where I headed down to the Seine and down the Champs de Mars. It was littered with construction and Bastille Day preperations so it was not the same as picutres, but it was still a nice sight to see.

I journeyed back to Maison de Mines for a quick refresher before the night's class at the Opera, where we would see a ballet, L'Histoire de Manon. The building was spectacular and filled with a level of decadence that the famed French opera and ballet deserved. However, I wish I could have seen the facade and removed the looming construction. I quite enjoyed my first ballet performance, as the music was spectacular, the theatre was the perfect place to marvel at luxuries, and the skill on display was impressive beyond belief.

By the end of the day, I had racked up over 17 miles of walking and seen some of the best sights of the trip.

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Revolution Française, Musée d'Orsay, et La Tour Eiffel

The beginning of Week 2 kicked off with a very topical lesson and walking tour focusing on the French Revolution. With Bastille Day looming in a few days, it was cool to go in depth into the buildup to one of history's biggest events, as well as witness the sites, or lack there of, in person. I think the way the French Revolution is commemorated in Paris is very unique, as certain sites are completely destroyed and only demarcated, despite their more pressing historical significance than others that are preserved. It is quite different from the US where you can do a Revolution tour in multiple places and be flooded with tons of historic buildings that romanticize the revolution. After a tour of the Conciergerie, we made our way along the Quais and to Shakespeare and Co. for some Hemingway Hunt stops, before a trip to the Paris 2024 store at the Carousel du Louvre. We then concluded an easy Monday with reading in the Tuileries and a nice dinner in front of the Pantheon.

Tuesday began early along the Seine for an appointment with the Impressionists at Musée d'Orsay. The art, as well as building, was spectacular; however, it is not nearly the right size to house the demand that it receives. I was a big fan of the Neo-Impressionists and their use of what equated to small dots to paint a bigger picture that was still true to reality. As the movement moves towards more surreal elements in the post-impressionist era, I tend to stray away from my adoration. However, the big bucks of the museum lies in the core Impressionists, where I had mixed feelings. I think the style is wonderful for landscapes and depictions of multiple people, however, I was not a fan of the portraits or close-up group paintings that did not do the style justice in my opinion. I also was not a fan at all of Renoir and was quite surprised with how much his work disgusted me in comparison to the other masterpieces surrounding me. Outside of the paintings, Rodin's Gates of Hell was quite stunning to see and I think it was one of my favorite masterpieces. I also quite enjoyed Monet's work on display, choosing one of his works for my monologue. I hope to make it to L'Orangerie to see the famous Water Lillies before my time in Paris ends.

We ended the night with an excursion to the Eiffel Tower, bringing a picnic with us to sit and enjoy the Parisian evening. I did not think I would be impressed with such a tourist trap as the Eiffel Tower, but the pure power that the image and symbol of the structure carries is too much to overcome when you are at its feet. It was absolutely beuatiful and you could not have asked for a better night. Once the lights came on, the allure made all the more sense. It was magical and I am happy that I could cross it off of the bucket list.

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Day Trip to the Coast

One of the most rewarding, and wonderful, experiences thus far was my off-day excursion to Mont-Saint-Michel, a 1,000 year old monastery on a fortified island off of the coast of Normandy. I organized and executed the trip solo, something that meant a lot to me as I continue to grow into, and near closer, to adulthood.

Before I ever landed in France, I knew that I wanted this day to include a trip outside of the Île de France; however, I didn't quite have an idea of what I wanted to do. After tossing around some ideas and doing some researched, including failed dives into Omaha Beach, Bayeux, and Calais/Dover, I stumbled across this magnificent site. I was actually a little surprised that I had never heard of it, but it is one of the best accidents of my life. All of the travel plans fell into place, thanks to a nice internet guide, and I was able to book a tour, train, and bus in the span of an hour.

Despite how lovely my first Friday in Paris was, I was jumping for Saturday to arrive. I had a 5 a.m. wakeup call in order to walk and metro over to Gare Montparnasse for a 6:40 train to Rennes. Thanks to experiences at Edinburgh Waverly and London King's Cross last summer, I did not have any trouble at the train station despite my American predisposition to only cars and planes. I had splurged €6 in order to secure a window seat on both rides, as I was determined to soak in as much of the French countryside as I could, and it was well worth the expense. The train took us through four different administrative regions of France: L'Île de France, Centre-Val de Loire, Pays de la Loire, et Bretagne.

Stepping off in Rennes, I had a couple hours at my disposal. Naturally, I decided to use this time and walk down from to Gare to the city center. Here I was able to see the oldest part of the town, including the remnants of the medieval wall, the narrow streets with their old buildings, the Hôtel de Ville, the Breton parliament, and the city's cathedral. Despite a quick shower that left me quite wet, I enjoyed immersing myself, for a moment, in the capital of Brittany. After walking back to the train's bus station, it was time to journey to the Norman coast. I wish I could describe the ride through the Breton countryside but my exhaustion caught up with me on both ends of the journey.

After the bus dropped me off in my fifth administrative region of the day, Normandy, walking into the last bit of town on the mainland, I found a quick sandwich and then began my journey to the island. It was a nice little walk along a field before arriving at the foot bridge, the island slowing leaving the horizon and appearing closer and closer in sight. It was such an impressive sight to lay eyes on the site for the first time, the spire spearing into the air as the rest of the structures seemed to fall perfectly down the mountain into their rightful place.

The bridge drops you onto the beach, where you have to walk to the fortified town and enter through a singular gate. Before I went up to the church itself, I allowed myself time to explore the city, climbing up to the top through a winding street that went around and around on the way up. I then went down and climbed the ramparts to take in the view as I walked along the walls. After one more climb back to the abbey on the mount, I finally entered the monastery and was immediately hit with a millennium of history. The views were some of the most spectacular of my life and the church itself was breathtaking. There was an exhibit inside detailing how it was constructed and it is still hard to wrap yourself around the capabilities of man, especially when you think that everything was done in the 11th century.

After my tour of the church and a crêpe at the bottom of town, I took my shoes and socks off for a walk on the beach. It was not ordinary sand; but instead, this amazing mud that felt amazing on your feet. I walked for sometime reaching the coast and stepping foot in the water. After more walking along the shoreline, I reached some rocks where I just say and enjoyed the awe-inspiring views that were surrounding me.

When it was time to say goodbye, I started off on my long walk back to the bus stop where I was exhausted to say the least. I made it back to Rennes where I got a hearty dinner (McDonald's) during my 20 minute layover, then boarded my train back to Paris. The golden hour through the Loire valley made the train ride back a perfect end to an amazing day. Paris has been wonderful, but getting to explore another part of France was so rewarding and left me wanted to go through every inch of this resplendent country.

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End of Week 1 : Louvre, Sainte Chapelle, and Comédie-Française

The first week in France ended with a bang! A detailed description of the weekend is below, but I'll begin with my weeklong thoughts. It has been one of the best times of my life acclimating to Paris and having the city slowly become like a home. Despite feeling like I've done so much and, at the same time, so little, I still have to remind myself of how blessed I am to have the opportunity for such an extended visit to the city. While I had never visited, I have always had a special place for the city and France as a whole and my experiences thus far have only widened the gap between any other place in the world. Having to pick one singular experience as a favorite is too hard to do, but on a macro-level, my favorite part has been proving to myself the levels of ability that I have to take care of myself and survive in a wildly new environment, all while seeing some of the best sights in the world and learning so much along the way. Using another language, managing my own travel, planning a day trip fully independent, maneuvering solo through one of the largest cities in the world, figuring out a new food climate, and trying new things are all aspects that feel so rewarding and that I know will shape me as I move into my future. However, I would have to say my only two negatives thus far are the difficulties with which eating is and the incessant smoking by French people. I'll start with the latter because it is the easiest: the smell gives me a headache and it is quite annoying to have it blow in your face, and it is everywhere here. The former, on the other hand, is a little bit more complicated because it seems like a contradiction to reality. There is quite literally food on every corner in Paris. However, price aside, the ordeal of eating in at a café or restaurant is such an ordeal that is countercultural to what I'm used to that is gives me great anxiety. For how much I prefer French society and life to my American ways, as someone who is always on a mission to do the most in a day, I quite enjoy the efficiency with which food in the US operates in. It is so hard to eat on my terms here without seeming like a rude American that I am still adjusting and get over. Other than those minor inconveniences, I am quite happy in Paris. The history of everything around me ceases to amaze and the European attitude is one that I enjoy very much. If one week felt like a lifetime, I can not wait for what the next two have in store.

On Friday, I enjoyed a full day at the Louvre before enjoying a wonderful violin concert at the magnificent Sainte Chapelle. The day started out with a great tour of the museum's great pieces. It was a great introduction to the ginormous collection and while the Mona Lisa was great, I especially enjoyed our time in the rooms dedicated to Neo-Classicism and Romanticism, as these are my favorite periods of art and included pieces that I had studied in a previous art class. Liberty Leading the People, The Coronation of Napoleon, and Raft of the Medusa were a great trio to get to see in person, as well as get insightful information from Dr. Jones. After the group portion at the Louvre concluded, I was resolved to stay as long as I could, so after a quick sandwich from a museum cafe, I continued my journey where we concluded, spending more time in my favorite rooms, soaking in the aforementioned work, as well as looking around at other pieces. I then began my quest around the rest of the former palace, already concluding that I could not do everything, and just wondering to wherever I ended up. After a wonderful stop in the Galerie d'Apollon with its gilded interior that was not topped by any other room's interior design, I spent a large amount of time in the antiquities section, marveling at Egyptian, Greek, Roman, and Near-Eastern pieces, highlighted from the friezes from the palace of Darius I. I then sojourned to the Grand Gallery, determined to walk the entire length of the giant hall on each side. To conclude, I made one of the best decisions of the trip and waited in the Mona Lisa line for one final glance at the lauded image. However, I would not be distracted by the quest for a perfect photo; instead, I would keep my phone away and simply take in the art for what it was, never mind the chaos of the surrounding crowd. After nearly 6 hours in the museum, I felt liked I hadn't even cracked the surface, but I was satiated with the time that I had spent, perusing at my own pace and my own desire.

I then had to settle for a quick dinner at McDonalds (a decision I am content with given the time that I spent at the Louvre) before making my way down to L'Île de la Cité for a concert inside the glorious chapelle haute inside the 13th century church at Sainte Chapelle. Unfortunately, I was enjoying my stroll along the Seine too much, and underestimated the distance from the Louvre, leaving me one minute late to our arrival time. Nevertheless, we queued along the façade and I rather enjoyed the slow wind into the church, giving the opportunity to take in the sights. Once inside, it was a absolutely beautiful sight to behold. Again, the French capitalized on a grand royal color scheme with blue stain-glass windows contrasted with the golden decoration of the hall. The concert, a violin soloist playing Bach selections, added to the amazing ambiance that I was witnessing. Despite the heat, it was an almost heavenly atmosphere to just sit and listen and take in everything, following the notes and discovering the many intricacies of the building. I ended up imagining these wonderful scenarios with the people that used the church and following along to the story of the music. After a long, but filling day, I turned in early, as I had a 5am alarm for my Saturday day trip (to be detailed in its own post).

Picking back up on Sunday, I, exhausted from the previous day, slept in for the first time since arriving, enjoying a lazy morning before picking up a great lunch breakfast at the MyAuchon down the street. I found two pieces of chicken (thigh+leg combined) and potatoes for only 4 Euro and it was one of the best meals that I have had in France. However, the highlight of the day was an amazing performance of L'Avare at La Comédie-Française. It was nice to seen the performance with a lot of background, as despite my extensive (quite small) French knowledge, the fast delivery of most scenes left me picking up words and small phrases. However, despite the language barrier, it was still very enjoyable, and the humor was still quite present. I also noticed how elaborate human communication is and how it transcends mere words. Even without a knowledge of what was happening, the acting taking place was such that I would know when to laugh and that I would be able to pick up on the relationships. Furthermore, the language of performance was interesting to observe, as, for example, during the applause, there is no way to determine anything about language of origin, but severe reverence can be detected through the mere act of clapping alone. All in all, it was an immaculate to put a bow on the first of three weeks in Paris.

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Nosebleed at Les Invalides

While Thursday of Week 1 was dedicated to French Gastronomy, the dominant cultural facet does not take the cake as the most memorable moment of the day. This is by no fault of the lesson, experience, or food itself, but due to the fact that certain events in a person's life seem to loom so large even in the instant that they happen, even if they are truly impactful to the overall plot of life.

My day began with the routine that has quickly developed in the midst of the opening days of the program. I wake up at 7, shower and get ready, then go for a walk to retrieve my breakfast of packaged ham and a fresh croissant. After returning, finishing up some work, and enjoying the rest of the morning, I joined the group for a gastronomy lesson and walk around the 6e arrondissement. It was quite enjoyable and I got to try some fruits and pastries for the first time that were good. I have let my pallet expand this week, trying to enjoy the rare opportunity within my American life to experience French food life.

Afterwards, I journeyed through the Metro with two other students to L'Hôtel des Invalides. The building and architecture were stunning, and I can not get over the front entrance's gate: a royal blue barrier trimmed with beautiful gold designs, all leading to the pinnacle that featured the fleur-de-lis in triplicate. This symbol with these colors is my favorite pattern in history and I think that it conveys such power and opulence in a way that is unrivaled.

Following a walk through the cour d'honneur, we enjoyed the surrounding garden grounds before making our way into the Dôme to see the tomb of Napoléon 1er. It is hard to find words to describe the grandeur of the facility, as the construction and symbolism that takes place almosts lifts the great Frenchman to the status of God. Everything leads to the massive sarcophagus that is surrounded by freizes and statues, all while being directly under the massive rotunda. This does not even get into the surrounding halls that all lead to the star at the center.

Yet despite all of this, if I could only pick one moment to share from the day, it would have to be at the very end of our trip to Les Invalides. In Le Musée de l'Armée, I was enjoying one of the many halls when I noticed my nose starting to run. I tried to wipe it away thinking it was not a big deal, but I kept feeling the liquid down my face, and eventually checked my hand to see it covered in blood. I then frantically searched for a bathroom, and after errantly going to a different floor, I made by way back to the gallery of origin before going around the massive square floor plan to find the bathroom at the very opposite in. I cleaned my mess and plugged my nose to continue my visit. However, I will not forget my chase through the halls of Les Invalides, as I searched for a toilet, passing Napoléon's emperor portrait and his stuffed horse, among other amazing sites.

After that debacle, I ended up returning to my roots in a way, getting Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner and enjoying a picnic in le Jardin du Luxembourg as a jazz band played under the evening sun, closing out a very eventful, but successful day in Paris.

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Acclimating to the City

After three full days in Paris, I am now beginning to become used to my surroundings. The constant grandeur and beauty, while still remarkable and breathtaking, does not so aggressively captivate me to which I become overwhelmed and unable to take in everything else around me. It was nice to begin the trip with an orienting trip on the Seine, where I was quite surprised at how spread out the marvels of the city are. There are multiple areas where you could just get lost in and think that you have taken in everything Paris has to offer, but three more just in the area along the river are waiting for exploring.

I have quite enjoyed the ability to be independent and, at times, take on the city by myself. While I quite enjoy the group lessons and the navigation tips that are offered, it has been nice to build on this by exploring on my own and finding the Paris that is unique to me. Whether it has been a morning stroll around our neighborhood or a post picnic doozy of a trip that included the Panthéon and the Musée de Cluny, these experiences are validating that I am more than competent enough to make it on my own in a new place, even halfway across the world.

I would have to say the best experience of the trip, so far, was one that sort of happened by accident. After we concluded in the Tuileries on Day 2, a group of us, spearheaded by interest in viewing the old church, made our way to L'Église de la Madeleine. This part was intentional; however, we entered the spectacular building and were greeted by heavenly string music radiating through the church. It turns out an ensemble from California was practicing for a Baroque concert later that night and we had walked in, and we able to sit in on, their dress rehearsal. It was the perfect accompaniment to view the beauty of the church and just become immersed in a magnificent scene; it brought tears to my eyes.

I am looking forward to continuing to grow throughout the rest of the course and finding the next breathtaking moment that sits patiently around every corner.

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Pre-Departure

As I prepare to journey on my second trip overseas, I am counting down the days until I arrive at Charles de Gaulle. While this journey will not be my first to the continent of Europe, it will be my first on the European Continent. My last trip, taking place in the summer of 2022 after a two year COVID-induced delay, was much different than I am expecting this class to be. What was supposed to be a post-graduation senior trip to the British Isles with a former high school teacher of mine ended up taking place at the median of my collegiate experience, and while there was some level of extra freedom given to me due to my age, I was more or less thrusted back into the high school environment. Even though I see the benefits in the strictly tourist nature and additional guardrails of my first international experience, I am greatly looking forward to the class component and the emphasis on building independence. I want to become immersed in the city and show that I can succeed on my own merits. After studying French for four semesters and taking quite an interest in French history, both on my own and through a semester-long project in another Honors class, I have been dreaming of visiting France, and especially Paris, for some time. Although I am wary of building a grandiose image of the city in my mind, the history and culture of the city has captivated me for years and I am hoping that it will live up to the hype. The only worries that I have center around the areas of the class that will push me out of my comfort zone. While I enjoy consuming the arts, I am not a creative person and prefer not to share my lack of skills with the world. Additionally, I understand that vast amounts of walking will take place, but as someone who becomes restless without my workouts, I am hoping that I do not lose myself in the three weeks that we are there. I have seem hotel room workouts on TikTok though, so I am sure that I will be able to give all of my muscles a much-needed stretch at some point.