I finally made it to the Middle Ages! or How I spent my Toussaint vacation
So, a bit ago I went on a trip. Remember? With my mom? I even showed you some pictures. But I never really told you what went down. Because really, if I wrote a huge, long, book-length version of the visit, would any of you even read it? I totally wouldn’t. So I thought you might like some highlights more. I promise to tell mostly the truth, and only include a few made-up events. Or none. You know, whichever.
*It only took two French degrees, but yes, mes amis, I have finally done it. I have visited Notre Dame de Paris. Twice, even. It’s so much more beautiful than I ever could have imagined, even after having read so much about it. It was also great to actually know a lot about the history of the cathedral and be able to share it with Mom, who even if she already knew it, pretended to be learning something from me.
*We ate some of the best food ever. Les Jumeaux, where Mom and I ate three years ago, is still marvelous, and I would gladly eat there every single day if it were a possibility. We also discovered the cafeteria at BHV, which pretty much rocks.
*Not only did we go to the Comédie Française, but we say Le Cid, which some of you may remember from a class I took freshman year of college and from my MA exams. What luck to not only be able to get tickets to see the company, but also to be able to see something I was familiar with. Mom was astonished at how different the story was from the original Cid, favorite of Spanish majors everywhere, but still enjoyed the show and seeing the chair Molière died in. No, really. I swear.
*Before said performance, we saw the Koppischs, friends of the family since before I was born. They happen to be living in Paris for a few months, and serendipitously had tickets for the exact same play as we did. I have really strong memories of growing up around them and it was great to catch up and to get to talk to them as an adult and not a little kid playing with their cat.
*I had coffee with Andrew Byrd-not-the-indie-rock-band, formerly of the Centre Oregon, now of an Urban Planning Masters in Paris. I also brought him his mail from Lyon. I should do this postgirl job more if it means that I get to go to Paris.
*Berthillon, where I have sent every single one of my friends and students who’ve studied abroad was CLOSED. I nearly had a nervous breakdown. Then we went to Amorino instead, which I had read about on Chocolate and Zucchini. First off, anyone who makes their gelato scoops into the shape of flowers wins my affection automatically. Second, wow. Once again, a place I would go every day if possible. But I’d have to walk a lot, because eating gelato every day probably wouldn’t be the best for my figure.
*We saw poor gnomes in jail.
*While we were in Lyon, Mom met several of my friends, including the posse. The funny part is that we ran into everyone on the street (except Mandee and Maria, who we ran into on an escalator in the train station). No plans were made, except to see Marc. Mom met her picture-taking match when it took several minutes to get a picture because I couldn’t stop laughing and neither Marc nor I would look at the camera.
*Mom made me go to the doctor. I then paid six euros for the visit, and seven for my antibiotics. The antibiotics price was without my insurance kicking in. I love socialist medicine.
*We had drinks with Dante and Steven, my landlords, who are the best.ever. Mom and Dante decided that my future-make-believe-wedding will take place at Debeaux, Dante’s brother’s patisserie. Too bad I don’t even have a boyfriend. Mom also met Lucie (known in these parts as Lulu), their cat, who sometimes wanders into my apartment through the skylight. It was determined that I could have a pet if Sylvain said it was ok (and he did).
*Mom successfully rented a car and used it to pick me up from work at Chevreul. Those one-way streets were killer, though. We then took said car (not a Mercedes this time) to Provence.
*In Vaison-le-Romain we stayed in an old belfray. From the MIDDLE AGES. I felt like we had gone back to the Middle Ages, actually, and was quite happy about it. If I had been more lucid I might have even recited some troubadour poetry. Unfortunately, I was concentrating on being able to breathe and swallow.
*More great food, and a restaurant that lets you take your bottle of wine with you if you don’t finish it. I almost had a meal where every course included ginger, but eventually changed my mind. But seriously, crème brûlée with fresh ginger? Should be eaten by everyone.
*I had decided to be “smart” and pack light, meaning that I brought one pair of jeans and no jacket. Of course it was cold and rainy. Luckily I was cool enough for TWO cardigans, one on top of the other.
*Small winding roads took us to visit my high school French teacher. No joke. How cool is it to see your old French teacher who has moved to France? She’s actually a friend of my mom’s too. Her and her husband have bought the most beautiful house in a hamlet a bit away from Buis-les-Baronnies. And I’m invited to visit whenever I want.
*After spending years looking in shops in the States that sell Provençal products it seemed almost unreal to see the real things. I had also just read A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle, which gave me a new take on things. I also thought that every wind that blew by was the mistral, but you know. It’s not like I’m ever prone to exaggeration.
Oh fuck, that was still long. If you’ve made it this far, you win some sort of prize. Ummm, when you come to visit I’ll buy you some wine? How does that sound?
*It only took two French degrees, but yes, mes amis, I have finally done it. I have visited Notre Dame de Paris. Twice, even. It’s so much more beautiful than I ever could have imagined, even after having read so much about it. It was also great to actually know a lot about the history of the cathedral and be able to share it with Mom, who even if she already knew it, pretended to be learning something from me.
*We ate some of the best food ever. Les Jumeaux, where Mom and I ate three years ago, is still marvelous, and I would gladly eat there every single day if it were a possibility. We also discovered the cafeteria at BHV, which pretty much rocks.
*Not only did we go to the Comédie Française, but we say Le Cid, which some of you may remember from a class I took freshman year of college and from my MA exams. What luck to not only be able to get tickets to see the company, but also to be able to see something I was familiar with. Mom was astonished at how different the story was from the original Cid, favorite of Spanish majors everywhere, but still enjoyed the show and seeing the chair Molière died in. No, really. I swear.
*Before said performance, we saw the Koppischs, friends of the family since before I was born. They happen to be living in Paris for a few months, and serendipitously had tickets for the exact same play as we did. I have really strong memories of growing up around them and it was great to catch up and to get to talk to them as an adult and not a little kid playing with their cat.
*I had coffee with Andrew Byrd-not-the-indie-rock-band, formerly of the Centre Oregon, now of an Urban Planning Masters in Paris. I also brought him his mail from Lyon. I should do this postgirl job more if it means that I get to go to Paris.
*Berthillon, where I have sent every single one of my friends and students who’ve studied abroad was CLOSED. I nearly had a nervous breakdown. Then we went to Amorino instead, which I had read about on Chocolate and Zucchini. First off, anyone who makes their gelato scoops into the shape of flowers wins my affection automatically. Second, wow. Once again, a place I would go every day if possible. But I’d have to walk a lot, because eating gelato every day probably wouldn’t be the best for my figure.
*We saw poor gnomes in jail.
*While we were in Lyon, Mom met several of my friends, including the posse. The funny part is that we ran into everyone on the street (except Mandee and Maria, who we ran into on an escalator in the train station). No plans were made, except to see Marc. Mom met her picture-taking match when it took several minutes to get a picture because I couldn’t stop laughing and neither Marc nor I would look at the camera.
*Mom made me go to the doctor. I then paid six euros for the visit, and seven for my antibiotics. The antibiotics price was without my insurance kicking in. I love socialist medicine.
*We had drinks with Dante and Steven, my landlords, who are the best.ever. Mom and Dante decided that my future-make-believe-wedding will take place at Debeaux, Dante’s brother’s patisserie. Too bad I don’t even have a boyfriend. Mom also met Lucie (known in these parts as Lulu), their cat, who sometimes wanders into my apartment through the skylight. It was determined that I could have a pet if Sylvain said it was ok (and he did).
*Mom successfully rented a car and used it to pick me up from work at Chevreul. Those one-way streets were killer, though. We then took said car (not a Mercedes this time) to Provence.
*In Vaison-le-Romain we stayed in an old belfray. From the MIDDLE AGES. I felt like we had gone back to the Middle Ages, actually, and was quite happy about it. If I had been more lucid I might have even recited some troubadour poetry. Unfortunately, I was concentrating on being able to breathe and swallow.
*More great food, and a restaurant that lets you take your bottle of wine with you if you don’t finish it. I almost had a meal where every course included ginger, but eventually changed my mind. But seriously, crème brûlée with fresh ginger? Should be eaten by everyone.
*I had decided to be “smart” and pack light, meaning that I brought one pair of jeans and no jacket. Of course it was cold and rainy. Luckily I was cool enough for TWO cardigans, one on top of the other.
*Small winding roads took us to visit my high school French teacher. No joke. How cool is it to see your old French teacher who has moved to France? She’s actually a friend of my mom’s too. Her and her husband have bought the most beautiful house in a hamlet a bit away from Buis-les-Baronnies. And I’m invited to visit whenever I want.
*After spending years looking in shops in the States that sell Provençal products it seemed almost unreal to see the real things. I had also just read A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle, which gave me a new take on things. I also thought that every wind that blew by was the mistral, but you know. It’s not like I’m ever prone to exaggeration.
Oh fuck, that was still long. If you’ve made it this far, you win some sort of prize. Ummm, when you come to visit I’ll buy you some wine? How does that sound?
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