There is a notion I’ve noticed among my peers of study abroad, both in Aix and simply around: the desire to disassociate from the United States. We swear by the lifestyle of the European communities that have adopted us, we attempt to speak quietly or in another language, and hide those things that make us so American. The realized dream of studying abroad encourages us to look harder at all that we have left behind, and all that we have brought with us. Separated from our responsibilities, enabled to reap all the benefits (often) without dealing with the bureaucracy or social ills, there is the temptation to demonize the United States; our value system, our food products, our tone of voice.
Perhaps it is the American Studies major in me, but I have no desire to disassociate myself from the star spangled banner.
That is not to say that there will not be things I miss when I return home; I will entirely miss my fresh bread, and walking through centuries of history on my way to class. Should I give birth while being a working woman in the states, I will think with jealousy of my European peers and their maternity leave, as I already do with their nearly and/or free college educations. It is also not to say that I have ignored all local customs and traditions in favor of my native ones, nor that I advocate for such behavior.
It is simply to say that the United States of America is not just a wasteland of corruption and pesticides. Neither my beloved France nor my homeland are perfect entities, and, as with anything problematic in this world, the value may still be extracted when contextualization is applied.
Being American means I am loud. I am passionate. I hug my friends when I see them, and I smile at strangers on the street. I could pet the dogs of people I’ve never met all day, and I can barely contain myself from putting on a show when, really, any song I know comes on the radio or speakers of a store. I wear whatever color I feel like, and I have been raised in a country that has encouraged my unique voice to be raised whenever I please.
This is not to speak for everyone. I had a nearly idyllic, entirely privileged upbringing, and the US told me as it has not told every one of it’s citizens that I can be (nearly) anything I choose. Being so far from home for so long with minimal responsibilities and seemingly endless opportunities, the most important thing I took through every uncomfortable situation, broken French conversation, excruciatingly early flight, and wonderful memory was myself.
I am my constant in life. And so I learned about myself through all the ways I got by in less than ideal situations this semester. I struggled in the attempt to fit into French society, and I realized that not only was this an impossible dream, but one I did not want to pursue. So much of who I am is because I am a loud, obnoxious, happy American. And I love that about myself. I love France and will miss it dearly, but I could never fully turn my back on my (imperfect) homeland, because it made me who I am. And I trust myself, and I am proud of myself. I learned to fly.
It’s all wrapping up now…I’m done with finals, and this Saturday, I leave my Aix for a 2 week adventure with my good friend Leah before finally returning home. But for my last weekend in France (I can’t actually believe I just typed that), I had some classic day trips Aixploring Provence…
Friday, we had a CEA trip to Château La Coste, a vineyard not too far from Aix. We all had a picnic lunch before seeing where the wine was made, enjoying a wine tasting (of course), and doing a walking tour around the grounds. Château La Coste invited many artists to come visit the large vineyard grounds and make whatever kind of art wherever they wanted, wherever the land spoke to them. There were statues of wolves, an interactive almost playground exhibition, and a cave made from oak trees. It was a charming way to spend a sunny afternoon.
Saturday, we were up bright and early for our last CEA trip! We headed to Les Baux-de-Provence, a medieval fortress. The views were incredible, but they don’t capture the hell that was the wind up there. Les Baux is famous for its wind, and I’m not kidding when I say there were tears (wind-induced, of course).
After, we headed to Carrières de Lumières, a multimedia art show set to music, housed in an old quarry. It is difficult to explain how wonderfully amazing this was. The exposition this time (it changes every year) was centered around the works of Chagall. There were 12 “chapters” over the 40 min sequence, and one, for example, was centered around the ceilings he painted at the Paris Opera House. This piece that you would have to go to Paris to see ordinarily was literally projected on to the ceilings, which were, you know, 30 feet above your head. Meanwhile, opera music is playing over the speakers, and images of the seats are projected onto the walls, and then larger images of the ceiling paintings are on the walls, and they are animated so they move, and you feel so small, and around every corner you look there is a difference facet of the work being explored. It was being immersed in the art itself, up close, personally, as if you were swimming around in Chagall’s brain when he was considering how to make his works. It was stunning.
After, we headed to Mas (which means “farm” in the Provençal regional dialect) de la Pyramide, owned by 91 year old Lolo, whose family has owned the farm since the time of Louis the XIV; he still has the original deed with the stamp of the sun king! Lunch was a three hour affair, with ratatouille, cheese, plenty of bread, pâtés, and, of course, rosé wine. It was a bit sentimental, as our farewell lunch as a group, and afterwords we wandered around the farm, annoying chickens and geese.
Finally, we visited Mausole St Paul, the asylum where Van Gogh voluntarily interned himself for the last few years of his life and painted over 200 paintings, including my personal favorite of all time, Starry Night.
And on Sunday, we were up early yet again. Megan, Matt, and I, had decided to visit the Camargue, the area a little south of Aix, know for the wildlife. Camargue touches the Mediterranean sea, but is better known for its national park, a swamp land. We had the great pleasure of being guided by a former CEA student who showed us the bulls, birds, flamingos, and classic white Camargue horses. The wildlife was amazing and surprising, as one just never really associates swamps with France.
In the center of town, Saintes–Maries-de-la-Mer, we had lunch in the sun, picked up some gelato, and walked around on top of a church with a stone roof. Then we attended the Course Camarguaise, bull fighting games where around 12 men attempt to rip a string off that has been tied around the bull’s horns. The bulls are not killed at the end, and for our part we didn’t see any men hurt at all, either. The course is a well-loved event in Camargue, and people follow the bulls from arena to arena based on which is the craziest! We had a fantastic time, but being in the front row gave me a bit of anxiety when one of the bulls escaped the arena (don’t worry, all of the seating area was built high above and barred against the games…).
My CEA group has been traveling so much, particularly since spring break. I’ve certainly been far from home myself, so enjoying our last weekend together felt like coming full circle, the first time we had all spent a weekend together in months. Studying abroad has been a tremendous time of personal growth for me, and I have cultivated a sense of independence, but I have so enjoyed the company that has surrounded me: getting lunches in the park, drinking wine and watching movies, or running around France until we’re exhausted. None of my aixperiences would’ve been the same without the 17 other crazy people I have come to love in such a short amount of time, and I’m already sentimental that time is nearly over.
This is kind of a part 1/2 post about being an American in France. This is just my perspective, and later in the week I’ll be talking about what it’s like specifically being American, but right now I want to talk about how the French live…
Society here functions in a manner such that you are expected to conform to society, it will not adjust for you. It is expected that you will eventually adapt to the French way of life, as a good citizen. This is seen in the children who learn by error, and dogs who not only never bark at strangers or other dogs, but don’t even need to be kept on a leash.The French don’t care for your foreign ways, and they live in a world that is not about drawing attention to oneself. As a bold girl from a culture that has always praised me for standing out, this was a bit of a shock at first.
French life is not about being the best (except perhaps when it comes to food). In terms of beauty and fashion, American women in general strive to stand out, to be a perfected version of themselves. Hair perfectly in place, outfit on trend, full face of makeup. The French women dress in neutral colors (yes, a lot of black), and you’d be hard-pressed to find a woman in full foundation. That isn’t to say that French women don’t care about how they look, but the beauty emphasis is on highlighting your favorite things about yourself, like for example with a bold lipstick, rather than covering up your own perceived imperfections.
Socially, the people of France are impersonal, not rude. They see hugging as a whole lot of physical contact, but even the men kiss each other in greeting here. It is flat out disrespectful to enter or exit a shop without saying hello and goodbye directly to the shopkeeper or server, and they will in turn wish you a good day. There is an attitude of complaining built in to the culture; the most stereotypical Frenchman i can think of is the sassy waiter who gives you a hard time, but all in good fun. There is a guarded barrier of controlled facial expressions, but once you strike up a conversation (admittedly a bit difficult), French people are eager to share their thoughts.
There is no understanding of the concept of lines here. This was incredibly frustrating when I arrived and sometimes still gets to me. French people here just kind of all stand around the thing they want, and it is up to the vendor to decide whose turn it is next, since everyone just kind of keeps butting in. They also just let their dogs poop wherever they want, and oh, yes, you are also pretty much expected never to pet a stranger’s dog. It’s not that they would yell at you or anything, but someone on the street would be quite confused as to why you would want to pet their dog at all! This has been a constant sadness.
This must just be a South of France thing, but the people have a different concept of cold. It will be 60 degrees out, and my fellow Americans and I will be wearing perhaps just a light jacket, or maybe no jacket at all. The French? Oh, they’ll be in their puffy winter coats. It boggles my mind every time, and I wonder how they don’t melt. I assume I’ll see them in coats until I depart, and we have had many days that have reached 70 degrees over here! This must be a matter of being spoiled by the Provence sun.
There are of course aspects I don’t enjoy about living here. The men are obnoxious; I have been the victim of street harassment more here than anywhere else in my life, and while I would feel safe walking around at night alone physically, I always avoid it because I don’t want strange men hitting on me from afar. And there is of course the smoking. Whether these are French problems specifically or just side effects of city life is hard to say, but it is part of my life living here.
Another thing: TIME! Time is a lie here. Nothing is open past, oh, 8 or 9 pm, nothing is open before 9 or 10 am, and nothing NOTHING is open on Sundays. Except, well, Monoprix. Which is basically Walmart, and is only open until 1pm anyway. There are also some (many) places that are just closed for lunch, such as the post office. To-go coffee/food also really doesn’t exist, unless it’s an ice cream cone. This fits in with the way of life where you enjoy your time with your loved ones and don’t work constantly, but I am forever frustrated by this restriction.
The Provençal life, in my opinion, is best expressed by the word savor. In a general way, life is not rushed here. We sit in cafés for hours on end, literally watching people just walk by, and the waiter never bothers you after you’ve been served; instead it’s in your hands to ask for the check. There is a general appreciation for life, for long evenings spent with friends around a dinner table, or a conversation at the market. The food quality is impeccable and something I will miss greatly when I return, I understand the value of a fluffy croissant hot from the oven or fresh strawberries and baguettes that really are stale the next day. The focus is on the simple, on the today. The pleasure of doing something in the moment that you’re interested in, whether that be buying tulips to brighten up your home or taking a stroll around town.
The culture is different, and while that is neither good nor bad itself, it is something I have come to enjoy. It isn’t for everyone, but I’ve personally grown from an anxious perfectionist to a more relaxed person who doesn’t mind waking up a bit earlier to have a fresh croissant from the local bakery, or walks slowly home from school rather than rushing from activity to activity. The people here savor life. They aren’t so stressed, and in living here for a short time, I have embraced the French way of blending in; I have come to savor life, imperfections, idiosyncrasies, and all.
There are many things I have forgotten, and I just found this YouTube video that hits on a few of the things I’ve missed: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VQqniPw6PzM
A few years ago when I visited Paris, we had the option of going to Giverny, AKA the town which houses impressionist painter Claude Monet’s house and gardens, but we passed it up in favor of other things closer to city center. We also tried to visit the palace of Versailles, but were deterred by the long lines (never go on a Sunday in June, folks), and explored the gardens rather than seeing the interior of the castle. That trip was once in a lifetime and I absolutely loved it, but in the interval years between then and now, I have explored my love for all things beautiful, notably including palaces and flowers.
So finally on Friday, myself and two of my friends boarded a train for the weekend trip I was perhaps most excited for this entire duration; righting those previous misjudgments of my youthful self. It was the first time I had taken the TVG (high speed) train from Aix, and even though we left the station at the ungodly hour of 6:37 AM, it was lovely. There’s just something so pleasant about watching the countryside roll by and not worrying if all your liquids will fit in 3oz containers!
First up was Versailles, which we were able to enter for free, thanks to being resident young people in the EU. I have to say, this has been a remarkable thing. So many times in my trips I’ve gotten free or reduced admission to museums or other cultural sights because of my residency in the EU and my age (under 26!). Now, of course some of my favorite museums in the US are the Smithsonian museums, which are of course free to all, but the student/young person discounts in the EU have come in handy many many times, and I am extremely grateful.
Versailles was on my list because at almost every other palace I’ve seen this semester, somewhere along the lines there has been the comment that that palace was modeled after Versailles. It is the palace of palaces! Yet, I was almost…unimpressed. Versailles was lovely, and I adored the famous Hall of Mirrors, but I ultimately felt as though there were not as many rooms available as there have been in other palaces that I have visited. Yet, the sun shined on us in the beautiful (and vast) gardens.
After what felt like 19 more train rides, we finally arrived in the town of Vernon, about 30 minutes away from Giverny by bus. We kept referring to Vernon as the “Snow White village”, due to the Germanic architecture in the old buildings. Placed along the Seine, Vernon was just so charming! We had lovely meals and an overall calm weekend, ambling down the streets from medieval times and strolling through the quiet town.
Yet, it was Giverny that took my heart. I know, I know, it’s hardly even spring, and it’s true, there were flowers missing. But oh. my. goodness. Monet’s garden is a dream. Flowers sprawling everywhere you look, in each hue blessed by the sun. Arches, rows, bushes, rivers, just the natural beauty everywhere you look. Walking around the garden, I, too, had the desire to paint! And seeing famous sights from paintings I adore…well, there’s just nothing like standing on the famous Japanese bridge that Monet painted in his very own garden.
And then there’s the house itself. Monet and I are clearly kindred spirits, because it was just so colorful. The dining room, entirely yellow, the blue porcelain kitchen…I wanted to pack it all up and take it home with me. The overall vibe of Giverny was peaceful inspiration, with joy radiating from each vibrant color. Life is abundant in Giverny, and I was refreshed with the desire to create. I ended up buying five prints for myself…I guess you could say Monet’s house made quite an impression on me!
It was a peaceful weekend filled with beauty and charm. It seems as though with every corner of France I explore, I love it a bit more. I was sad upon leaving Giverny, but I know I’ll be back someday to see the flowers in full bloom.
This past weekend, I had originally intended to go to Nice. Well, the weather looked fairly gloomy, and I was getting anxious that I hadn’t seen enough of Provence, so instead, I made the decision to let my giant backpack rest for a weekend – and I’m so glad I did.
Friday, I joined my friend Matt and his two friends visiting on their spring breaks (throw back to mind over a month ago…) in Marseille. I’ve largely avoided Marseille, since it’s a rather…city-like city. It doesn’t quite have the charm of Aix, and is in many ways more reminiscent of NYC. It’s definitely not somewhere I’d like to hang out alone, but I was finally able to see the classic sites including Notre-Dame de la Garde, Le musée des civilisations de l’Europe et de la Méditerranée (MuCEM), as well as enjoying lunch and views at the Vieux Port. We even tried the provencal drink, pastis, which is yellow in color and made from anise seeds, which means it’s basically alcoholic yellow liquid licorice. I think I’ll stick to my wines…
Friday night, I attended a friend’s dance performance, then got up relatively early to wander around the food market before heading to La Ciotat, a beach not too far from Aix. It was too cold to swim, so we just ate some gelato and fresh strawberries, relaxing on the beach and enjoying the glorious blues.
I wasn’t feeling too well on Sunday, so I had a pajama day, but I was luckily back on my feet by Monday, so I went to the neighboring village of Calas to see their annualBénédiction des chevaux, or horse benediction. Watching a parade of horses march up a bill to a chapel to be blessed for over an hour was potentially one of the most “provence” things I’ve done yet! After watching the procession, we enjoyed the rest of the celebration: a fair! Fairs are one of my favorite things to do, and at this one there were churros, horse shows, and “bull games”, where children jumped into the arena with a bull and attempted to land a hoop around the (taped off) horns. No one got hurt, but I’ve never seen anything like this in the US…
All in all, it was a lovely, relaxing weekend. I wish I could stay in sunny Provence toujours (forever).
Confession: I never want to leave Aix. I’ve enjoyed every single adventure I’ve been on abroad, and have more coming up which I’m looking forward to, but my heart aches when I think about flying out of the little airport for the last time. As I’ve been growing more and more sentimental about Aix, it seemed high time to share what my daily life is like here.
The view from our kitchen window
Monday: I have language class from 8:30-12:30 (ugh, I know). Class normally begins with questions we have about French language that we’ve heard over the weekend, for example, last week I asked about the words for “sunburn” and “allergies”, because spring is not a kind season to me. We also tend to receive a worksheet on a particular grammar point and complete some exercises. On Mondays, we spend an hour in the lab, doing listening activities such as listening to a podcast and answering questions about it, or completing a dictation, which is normally with a poem or song. After, we return to the classroom and read an article with new vocabulary and complete some written comprehension exercises.
Sometimes after class on Monday, I have “atelier”, which means “workshop”, and in this case is a one-hour conversation with a French student and some other people from our school who are learning French, in French. We normally just talk about our lives and travels.
After, I get my life together. Because I travel on the weekends, I almost always need to do laundry on Mondays, or do homework, or something similar. If I have free time, I’ll browse the boutiques around town, or go to a cafe and read while sipping some coffee/wine (depending on the time of day).
Tuesday: Language class from 9-1, which is similar to Monday. We have the question time, then usually review the homework from last week (our homework is due on Tuesdays), work on a grammar point, and read some articles. In the last hour of class on Tuesdays, we have multimedia lab, where we look at web documentaries which normally feature a particular aspect of French life (such as family), and have a mix of listening and writing to absorb. Our homework usually involves responding to the information in the webdocs.
After class, I grab lunch with my friend Matt, and we get sandwiches and eat in the Park Jourdan, which is very close to school, if it’s nice out! I have my film elective from 2:45-4:45, which involves discussing a film we watched outside of class in small groups, with a presentation by either some student in the class about the director, or from the professor.
My program hosts cafe hours on Tuesday nights, from 6-7pm. I love cafe hour! Everyone in the program is invited, as well as any friends, and CEA offers us a free drink (coffee, hot cocoa, wine, beer, etc). This is time when everyone gets together to talk about what we did over the weekend, as well as signing up for the activities CEA provides, like soap making, or wine tasting. After cafe hour, it’s pretty much the same as Monday night, a bit of homework, browsing the internet, etc.
Wednesday: I only have phonetics class on Wednesday, from 10:30-12. Phonetics is pretty much the art of trying to lose your accent, and while the work isn’t necessarily difficult in terms of bulk, it’s just hard to make your tongue and mouth pronounce such unfamiliar sounds, or for your ears to hear the difference. We normally get introduced to a certain category of sounds, such as nasal vowels. Then we hear examples of them in words we already know, do listening exercises where we try to identify the sounds, and read sentences out loud to try and produce them.
After phonetics I have lunch, normally at home, and then I tutor. I’m tutoring an 11 year old girl through a program called Easy English, which is an activity group I’m signed up for which specializes in the English tutoring, but also offers us activities with other French college students, such as speed chatting (in French and English), a St. Patrick’s party at their school, or a wine tasting. It’s been a really great way for many of us in the program to meet more French people! I’m really loving tutoring. I go to the girl’s house, and her parents are incredibly nice; they’ll offer me chocolates or give me coupons to cultural events. The girl and I work on her homework, and then normally just try to have a conversation in English. I was a bit intimidated when I started because I haven’t tutored since high school, but I still enjoy teaching immensely.
Then I normally have a good chunk of the afternoon free, which passes like Monday afternoons: browsing shops, hanging out in a cafe, spending time with friends, or getting some work done! I try to stay out of the house, and just soak up the air in Aix.
Thursday: In Aix, there is a food market every day, but the larger market, including textiles and flowers, happens on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Since the market occurs from around 9-1pm, I miss it entirely on Tuesday when I’m in class, and I’m usually traveling on Saturday. On Thursday, I don’t have class until 11:30, and since I’m a morning person, I usually get up rather early and walk around the market. I have a weakness for beautiful things, and in addition to picking up strawberries or honey, I can’t really resist getting a bouquet of flowers for the apartment as well.
Language class is from 11:30-3, and this particular class tends to focus on speaking. We’ll read an article about a topic, and discuss it as a class, first in small groups and then just around the room. Thursday class is a bit more laid back, or maybe I’m just imagining that because everyone is well-rested!
Thursday afternoons are normally when I pack for my weekend trip, or relax with friends. This can include having dinner together, going out to bars, or something like this past Thursday, when I watched two movies with my friends and had some rosé. Sometimes I’ll check out a movie, and very rarely I’ll be leaving for my weekend travel on Thursday night itself.
Weekend: the weekends are a bit complicated. Usually, I haven’t been in Aix on the weekends, so I’ll leave sometime Thursday or Friday, and return Sunday night, in time to grab a slice of pizza before passing out. When I’m in town for part of the weekend, it passes like my afternoons. I do work or laundry, whatever needs to be done, and I spend the rest of the time, well, resting. I’ll check out the market, try a new cafe or gelato store, see a movie, hang out with friends, or explore a new part of Aix.
As with any other life, there are variables. Sometimes I’ll have a CEA activity in the middle of the week, or an exam in school that I’m studying longer for, or any number of things. Studying abroad gets the reputation for easy classes, but while homework might not dominate my time, learning a new language is hard any way you look at it, and my four hour blocks of language class are intense.
Most days, I can’t stop smiling. Through all the home sickness and worries, I’ve found home in Aix. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world, and I am constantly finding myself thinking the one thing: I am living my dream.
Wednesday evening, I flew into Munich for a long weekend. I got lost in the train station, but eventually made it to the hostel (the fact is, the hostel was only 3 minutes away from the train station, but the real difficulty was finding the exit…) and hugged my friend Rachel, who was on spring break. After a bite to eat and a good night’s rest, we started Thursday with another free tour around Munich, including to the famous Marienplatz and Hofbräuhaus, a beer hall from the sixteenth century.
Munich is a vibrant city. It has the old glamour I found in Austria, but with a decidedly young spirit, perhaps due to the newness; 80% of Munich was lost during the second world war. Munich of course has a shadow of darkness regarding the last century, and it neither hides nor boasts of its past, rather just acknowledging evil as it was. We were graced with beautiful, sunny spring weather, and there were people everywhere: riding bikes, hanging out, and, of course, drinking beer. We climbed to the top of St. Peter’s and looked out over the life that seemed to pour out of every nook of Munich.
Friday, we visited Dachau, the former concentration camp, which was the first of its kind. I’ve learned about the Holocaust all of my life, have been to various museums, and have even had the privilege to talk to many survivors, but this was unlike anything I’d experienced. As we explored the empty and certainly haunted ground, our tour guide mentioned that someone had probably suffered on every inch we crossed. It was not an easy or fun tourist adventure, but it was necessary. Walking in the steps of those who perished felt like an act of defiance. I am here, I am Jewish, and I will never forget.
Afterwards, we relaxed by grabbing a burger and walking through the Englischer Garten, a public park larger than Central Park in NYC, complete with a Japanese tea house, surfing, and, of course, beer gardens! We walked for hours, and it certainly did my soul some good to be in a green place.
Saturday, we visited the site of the 1972 Olympic Games, which were held in Munich and which are today yet another beautiful public park. We decided to see the stadium and really experience the architecture by taking a roof tour that ended in a zip line across the stadium. We walked to some of the highest points, jumped around, and generally had an adrenaline-filled blast. It was not the cheapest adventure I’ve been on, but it’s up there in terms of most memorable, which is, of course, priceless.
We enjoyed Olympic Park for a while longer, before returning to the English Garten for yet more beer and spaetzle (a german dish of noodles and cheese). The weather stayed beautiful all weekend, I even received my first sunburn of the season!
Sunday after Rachel left, I took some time by myself to the see Munich Residenz, treasury, and Cuvilliés Theatre. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never met a shiny thing I didn’t like, so having time to see the treasury was magnificent. I took my time walking around city center before heading to the airport. It was a rare moment for me; I’m not usually alone, but I felt safe in Munich, and enjoyed the freedom of being on the schedule of my whims.
I unexpectedly loved Munich. The energy and history and clash of old and new made the city so alive. I’ll definitely be returning one day, I hear this little event called Oktoberfest is pretty special…
Somehow, I blinked, and suddenly I’m about a month out from the end of my time in Aix. I became extremely sentimental this week, thinking about all the wonderful things I’ve accomplished so far, and all the things I have yet to do. One of the great challenges of studying abroad is balancing time near and far. I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been the person who has travelled the most from my program this semester, and while I wouldn’t trade anything I’ve seen or experienced (and there will be too many places I won’t get to see at all), sometimes I feel like I’ve hardly seen any of Aix.
So this past weekend, I was relieved to have an almost travel-free Aixperience. Friday, my friend Matt and I finally saw Pavillon de Vendôme, a house built just outside of city center in the 1600s. The flowers were just starting to bloom. Side note, where I live in the US, there is very little transition between winter and summer. It literally has snowed and then turned 80 degrees in the same week. This spring in Aix has almost been agonizing for me; it has been the slowest transition between seasons I’ve ever experienced! The 60 degree days are wonderful, and the mistral is calming down, but goodness sometimes I wish I was as warm as my friends back home.
Later on Friday, I toured Cézanne’s Atelier, his last workshop in Aix, and the Terrain des Peintres, where he painted the mountain St. Victoire, which he did over 60 times. It was such a different experience to see the site where he worked and the objects he literally painted, rather than just a museum with the art itself. Some of his genius must’ve rubbed off on me, since I don’t think my hand-drawn postcard is half bad!
Saturday, we went to Nîmes, which is famous for it’s arena, one of the best preserved in the world (much better than the Colosseum, although it is much smaller!). We also visited Pont du Gard, an ancient Roman aqueduct which is comprised of three levels and was built in 60AD. We sunned a bit by the water, enjoying the new spring.
Sunday, my friends and I were strolling down the Cours Mirabeau with every intention of heading straight to lunch when we walked right into an antique market! Going antique shopping is one of my favorite things to do back home, and we wandered around a bit before my affinity for all things shiny got the better of me and I bought a glass elephant. What I really wanted was a chandelier, I’m just not sure how I would’ve gotten it home…
After, I finally saw the Musée Granet, Aix’s famous art museum. As we walked around and saw a variety of works, from sculptures to artifacts to, of course, pieces by Cézanne, I thought about how much history there is in Aix and all of Provence. From ancient Rome to the period of impressionism, there’s so much more than I expected to encounter on a daily basis. Traveling is fun, but a bit exhausting. I’m so thankful I took this weekend to travel more around Aix itself. With each new detail, I fall more and more in love, and am more and more loath to leave in a month’s time.
Back on January 13th, a mere week after arriving in Aix, my then-acquaintance Paris and I saw that round-trip tickets to Brussels were a mere 86 euros. Combined. Our return flight left Brussels at 6:55am, but hey, 86 euros….combined. Well, Paris and I hardly knew each other at that point, but we decided to go to Brussels the first weekend of March. It was one of the most spontaneous things I’d ever done; we simply saw the low price and pounced. I didn’t knew Paris very well yet, and I certainly had no idea what I wanted to do in Belgium.
Fast forward to now, after our return at the ungodly hours of the morning, and I’d still give anything to go back.
Our friend Hannah ended up joining us on our quick jaunt. I successfully made it through my first Ryanair flight without paying any of their infamous hidden fees, and after a bus and metro ride (why are all my journeys like this?), we were at our hostel in the early hours of Friday evening. The hostel was really a hotel, with a shower inside the room, carpeted floors, and extremely comfortable beds. I hadn’t stayed in a hostel yet on my adventures, and I was kind of nervous, but we had a wonderfully clean experience.
We ate a wonderful dinner at a small Italian restaurant (don’t I always?) before heading to Delirium Cafe, which is known for having over 2000 beers available. I’m not a huge beer drinker, but I did try a few varieties! In one of those serendipitous moments of life, we ran into some guys that Hannah and Paris had met over spring break in Dublin. It’s an incredibly small world sometimes.
Saturday morning, we took a free walking tour around Brussels. Our guide was energetic and so funny, which we learned was typical of Belgians. Belgium is like France’s younger, less pretentious cousin. Case in point: in French, you would say “quatre-vingt quinze” or literally “4 twenties and 15” to say “95”. In Belgium, they speak French, but they just say “neufante-cinq”, which we would recognize as our good ‘ol 95.
We had lunch and chocolate before taking a quick nap back at the hostel. When we headed back to Delirium that night (oops), I ended up talking to some girls from South Africa. They were incredibly kind, and I was reminded of how many people exist in the world, all with their own stories, and how lucky I am to be able to meet some of them on this adventure.
Belgium has more history than anyone seems to know (french fries?! more like BELGIAN FRIES! Oh, yeah, and who do you think invented the saxophone? or comics? Yeah, Belgium. Now you know.), as well as an abundance of beer, waffles, and of course, chocolate, all of which we more than sampled. It’s unpretentious enough to think you could actually live there, and I wish we had more time to explore the other cities like Bruge and Ghent. 36 hours wasn’t nearly enough for the beautiful city or country, but it gave me the yearning to return one day.
Since I’m studying abroad with CEA, in addition to many wonderful things being taken care of without my having to worry, such as housing, airport pickup, school enrollment, etc…there are also perks like cheese and wine tastings and, perhaps most notably, a full weekend trip to Nice & Monaco!
So, Saturday morning bright and early my program headed out to Nice, France. While it is true that I am also spending my semester in the South of France, Nice, although only 2 hours away, actually has the Mediterranean climate everyone imagines when I tell them where I’m studying. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love Provence! But sometimes, those mistral winds have me yearning for something a bit calmer…
Yet, it was rainy and a bit chilly in Nice. We arrived on the Promenade d’Anglais and walked through the flower market, which was only a beautiful sneak peak of the flowers to come. I had lunch with a few friends at a kabob place and bought a pair of ankle boots, before we walked up to Parc de la Colline du Château, the highest point in Nice.
Despite the weather, the view was incredible. I could stare at the sea all day. However, we had the Carnaval de Nice to get to! The carnival celebration in Nice is one of the largest in the world (along with Venice and Brazil, of course). It attracts over 1,000,000 visitors and spans a two-week period in February each year. This year, the theme was “King of Media”. We were in town for the “Battle of Flowers”, a parade lasting a little over an hour where, yes, flowers are thrown at you!
I can’t overstate how much fun the Battle of Flowers was. Watching the elaborate floats go past (check out those giant giraffes), collecting flowers for our ever-growing bouquet, and most importantly: just having a good time! They were playing (mostly American) music, and my friends and I danced and sang along like no one was watching. They were, of course, since no one really does that in Europe, but hey, it was a celebration! Our neighbors smiled warmly, and I’m sure they were thinking about how silly Americans are, but I couldn’t change my joy for life if I wanted to. And I do not.
After Nice, we drove to Monaco, the second smallest country in the world (area-wise). For those of you keeping count at home, I have now visited the two smallest countries in the world (Vatican City being #1). Monaco is about the size of Central Park in New York, and honestly with the elaborate buildings and wealth feels like Disney…if Disney had less children and the theme park rides were all casinos.
We all dressed up and had a group dinner at a fancy restaurant on the harbor, before trying our luck at the casino. I’m a generally lucky gal who has won $300 during cruise ship bingo, thank you very much, but playing the slots only earned me about 15 Euro. However, my friend Patrick won over 200, within being there for only, like, 20 minutes!
The next morning, we checked out the area surrounding the palace, enjoying some beautiful harbor views, lovely gardens, and Princess Grace’s tomb. We watched the changing of the guard and grabbed some ice cream (never pass up an opportunity for ice cream) before heading back to France.
On the way back to Aix, we stopped in the village of Eze, home to the famous Galimard Perfume House. We had an informative tour of the factory. Some fun facts: most of the perfume in the world from famous places such as Dior or Chanel is made in Eze or the surrounding area…the materials are imported from around the world, actually put together as perfume here, and then sent back out for distribution! Additionally, those who literally mix the perfume are given the title of “nose”, and have to train for something like 5 years, after which they have to abstain from things like coffee, spicy foods, alcohol…anything that would dull your sense of smell over time! There are obviously only a few hundred in the world, and 2 are at the Galimard house in Eze.
I of course bought myself some perfume, and we finally headed back to Aix. On the bus ride home, there was a beautiful sunset. The evening haze was purple, the sky an ombre of orange to blue. Despite the cold and the rain, I think spring and summer must be just around the corner here in Provence.
Emily Sakowitz 