Paris, tu m'as manqué

I crashed last night at about 3 and got up early to finish the paper. So after this is finished, I'm more than likely going to sleep until tomorrow. I don't remember the last time I went to bed before 11 pm.

Anywho, Madrid! I'll start with a summary for those who don't want to or don't have the time to read this extremely long entry.

Things I learned on this trip: 1.) Paris is awesome. Going to Madrid made me appreciate this city so much more. I think I may have even been a little homesick for this dreary old ville. 2.) Parisian food is awesome. 3.) Don't deny the bread if you want to avoid the wrath. 4.) Clubbing can be fun if done properly 5.) I think I could learn Spanish. Just give me a month.

Paris, tu m'as manqué = Paris, I missed you. I'm glad I went to Madrid, but I'm happy to be back "home." Even if my city did welcome me back in the form of cold temperatures, scattered showers, and a fresh coat of dog poop on the sidewalk in front of my apartment. Thanks, Paris. You're the top.
..............................................................................................................................................................
If you're curious for the details, read on! If you just want pictures, see the entry above.

We got in on Thursday night and hit the ground running. I was exhausted from the heaviest week of school of the semester, and was in no mood to go out. However, my friends would not let me rest up for Friday, so we all got dressed and got our first taste of night life in Madrid. The first obvious difference between Espagne and Paris: Madrid is a heck of a lot cheaper. Clubs in Paris are between 15 and 20 euros, and that's just a cover charge that doesn't include drinks or the coat check. Madrid's cover charges, if they weren't free, were only ten euros! I'm not really the clubbing type (unless it's a jazz club), but I must admit that I had a blast this weekend.

Thursday's club was called Joy. It was free for students, so we decided to check it out. Despite running on no more than 4 or 5 hours of sleep, I somehow managed to stay out until about 4am, at which point we all piled into a cab and headed back to the hotel.

But the fun didn't stop there. Friday night, we went to Kapital, which is probably the most unique place I have been in a while. I learned about it from my friend Steph, who is studying abroad in Madrid this semester. It's a seven floor club, where each floor has a different theme. The main floor was house/techno, and there were also rooms for hip-hop and Latin music, and several floors with lounges and karaoke. One floor even had a movie theatre. Ridiculous. We bounced between floors, until we discovered that the main floor has a plume of icy cold fog that shoots down on the crowd every twenty minutes or so.

The music would build up to this crazy fast pulsating beat and the lights would start flashing and people would jump around and dance and it all built up into this huge suspenseful wait until finally......WHOOSH! A chilling, refreshing blast of fog to cool the dance floor. It was like being trapped in a whirlwind for five seconds. It was pretty spectacular. Friday night was also a 5am bedtime, as we piled 5-deep into a cab at around 4. Apparently, 4am is early. Kids in Madrid usually start their nights around 2 or 3, stay out until 6, at which point they grab hot chocolate and churros and wait for the metro to start running again to take them home. That's dedication.

It turns out that we just so happened to visit Madrid in the middle of Carnival. There were festivities all over the city, and people dressed up like it was Halloween. We bought some cheap masks and wore them out on Saturday night. 'Twas quite fun.

Not to be labeled as strictly party animals, we were sure to hit up all the historic sites during the day as well. Basically, we did Madrid on about 5 hours of sleep each day, combined with a siesta in the evening before going out for dinner and clubbing. It was not a bad way to spend three days, although by Sunday I was exhausted and ready to return to my normal, calmer (and more boring?) way of life.

We purchased two-day hop on hop off bus passes that took us all around Madrid, hit up the Museo del Prado, the Grand Palais (which was AWESOME), and did some shopping. Madrid is a tiny city, and we soon discovered that we could get everywhere by walking. On the last day, we lounged around in Plaza de Mayor, this cool courtyard with tons of street performers and outdoor restaurants. Saturday and Sunday's weather was absolutely beautiful, so we basked in the sun as much as possible.

A word about food. To put it simply: I missed Paris. A lot. I will never again take for granted the crèpe stands on every corner, or the boulangeries in every neighborhood, or the free bread and free water at restaurants, or the waiters who say bonjour to you when you enter. On all levels, the food scene in Madrid was not so hot. Grab and go food doesn't exist in Madrid, and so at one point, we actually had to stoop to McDonald's take out. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a Big Mac? Years. YEARS. It was an epic fail in the lunch department.

However, on Friday night, we did go to this delicious restaurant for paella and sangria. The waitress hated us from the moment we told her that we didn't want the non-free bread, but despite her less than cheery disposition, the food was excellent. We ordered two paellas, one with everything (seafood, chicken, sausage, veggies), and one with chicken and sausage. The pans of paella were about half the size of our table, which sat 6 people comfortably. Unfortunately, I have no pictures to prove it. But if I were exaggerating, I'd let you know. We literally scraped the pans clean.

On Sunday, we tried to get tapas from a restaurant in Plaza de Mayor. We placed our order only to have the waiter return ten minutes later to inform us that they had run out of paella. How does a tapas restaurant run out of paella? That's like McDonald's running out of french fries. We did, however, have some absolutely delicious sangria. The catch: it turned out that the pitcher cost 20 EUROS! The pitcher from the night before was only 10. Another fail in the lunch department.

We finished the day with churros, which we dipped in hot chocolate, before heading to the airport to come back to Paris. And by hot chocolate, I mean pure chocolate melted and poured into a cup in a thick, rich, goopy, warm, messy, chocately delight. Believe it or not, it was actually too rich for me to finish. I could only make it about a third of the way before I had to give up the ghost.

All in all, it was a good trip. The perfect amount of time to get away from Paris for a bit and explore some place new, but also just long enough to make me realize what a great deal I've got in this lovely city of mine.

If you've made it this far, you're the bomb. Thanks for reading.

Je suis fini

...is actually not the correct way to say "I'm finished." Unless you mean in the dead sort of way. As in when I die, I'll be finished. Or my midterms killed me, so now I'm finished. To say you're finished with a project, or with dinner, or with tying your shoe, the correct phrase is, "J'ai fini." I, however, meant the first version.

Midterms are over, and je suis fini. More in the sense that I'm exhausted than anything else. The tests themselves weren't that bad, though they would have been better had I studied sooner than yesterday night at about 8 o'clock. Sorry college, I cheated on you with my new friend Paris.

One of the things I did yesterday instead of study for midterms was book two trips: one to Madrid for next weekend, and one to....A SOCCER GAME IN BARCELONA!! Madrid is cool, ya know, but I'm so excited for the football match in Barcelona that the only way I can express it in writing is to use all caps and add a gross amount of explanation points after BARCELONA!!!!!!!

I'm going to Madrid for a long weekend with Tanya and four other friends. The only thing that stands between me and Espagne are three presentations, a paper, and a quiz. All due next week. Nothing much.

I'm going to Barcelona with a friend for part of spring break. We were lucky enough to snag one of the last sets of seats that were actually next to each other (as opposed to caty-corner, or even better, a section apart). Judging by how difficult it was for us to find two seats together, I think the game is nearly sold out. Which will be awesome. The only thing standing between us and Barcelona is, well, an actual ticket TO Barcelona. Haha. Minor detail. (Oh yeah, and finals. Another minor detail.)

For the first time in the month or so that I've been here (whoa, it's been more than month already?!), I am finally starting to enjoy myself. I've been having a good time so far, and I've met a lot of cool people, seen some cool stuff, etc., but it hasn't really felt like what I thought a trip to Europe would feel like. Being in Paris is great, but there has not really been anything magical about this place for me, not like there seems to be for other people. I haven't had that, "Wow, I'm in freaking Paris!" feeling at all yet. I think now that I actually have travel plans, now that I will actually be exploring new places and doing the things for which I have so frugaly saved all my pennies, this study abroad thing will start to feel more like it should. And as more time passes, I think the wow-factor of my host city will kick in a bit more. Or maybe I'm just not the exciteable type. I dunno.

Anywho, I need to dormir. And by dormir I mean sleep for the next four to six hours to make up for what I missed last night. Peace.

Hey there, February

Tanya and I met some friends to go to see the Picasso exhibit at the Petite Palais this evening, but when we got there, there was a line zig-zagging across the front lawn of the museum. The sign at the back of the line said there was a four hour wait to get into the exhibit. Coincidentally, it was also about four degrees outside. Forget Picasso. We got crêpes instead.

Earlier today, Tanya and I climbed up to the top of Sacré Coeur, the highest point in Paris. (More pictures below.) I haven't yet had a chance to look up how many steps it takes to get to the top, but I'll just say that it isn't for the fat or the faint of heart. A narrow, winding staircase is the only way to mount the dome, but it was well worth it. This after I had already walked for about 45 minutes, and ran into yet another scammer trying to pick my pockets/sell me the ring I had supposedly dropped on the ground. Don't these people know that I am a well-informed tourist? I read my travel books carefully, thank you very much.

After that, we walked to Moulin Rouge. Not exactly a family friendly area, but I found it more amusing than offensive. Fun fact about Montmartre (where Sacré Coeur and Moulin Rouge are located): before it was incorporated into the Paris city limits, it was a tax-free zone for alcohol, so frugal drinkers would go there to buy liquor. The monks in Montmartre would thus make wine at the monasteries. How ironic. Monks making wine in what would later become the sex district. Oh, Paris.

The last thing to report (in this kind of boring entry....) is that I went to a jazz club yesterday night with Trevor, Sam, Jillian, Mark Anthony (and girlfriend), and Patrick, and it was one of the most enjoyable places I've been so far. It's this little joint called the Hippocampus. It's about as big as my living room, and has a very homey feel. The bartender was this middle-aged woman, probably late 50s, and the owner/manager/waiter doubled (or quadrupled?) as the washboard player for the three-piece jazz ensemble that entertained us all night. (A clarinet player and a pianist finished out the group.) We were the youngest people in the place by far, but we didn't care.

The band played a range of jazz and other popular music, including selections from that silly musical from way back when with John Travolta and all those catchy songs about cars and summer loving that are kind of guilty pleasures. It was pretty funny listening to the pianist sing, "Tell me mooore, tell me mooore," in his French accent. My favorite was when the pianist played Ray Charles's "What'd I Say," ("Zat's vat ei zeey" with the accent) complete with the signature "Hey, ho" call and response. We of course sang along. It was pretty classic. At the end of the night, he gave a special shout out to "les jeunes" (us young folks). Nice.

Tomorrow we are going to Trevor's favorite jazz place. He's got a crush on one of the waitresses there. Maybe the music will be good, too. :-)
...............................................................……………………………………………………………………………
More pictures! Mostly of Sacré Coeur, which was the only thing worth photographing today.


:: These two are after the first part of the climb, overlooking Montmartre. ::


:: The first is from the very top, after the second part of the climb. The second is a blurry pic of the spiral staircase. ::


:: From the very top of the dome, overlooking Paris. If you look hard in the first picture, you can see the Eiffel Tower in the middle. I love the haze over the city. ::


:: Hippocampus jazz club & restaurant: pianist, clarinet player's mini-saxophone ::
(Fun fact about the saxophone photo: if you click on it to blow up the image, you can see my friend Patrick reflected in the right-hand side of the instrument, and again on the left-hand side. You can also see my reflection on the left as I am taking the picture. Details, details.)