And here it is: the season 2 finale. My victory lap, as it were, takes place aboard the Holland America Line’s MS Eurodam, and at its twelve days of destinations. I will (eventually) post one last, entry with links to ALL of my photo albums from the last nine months, this cruise included.
But, for now, I figure I’ll do this day-by-day, ‘(199) Days of Europe’-style.
(1) is Saturday, 2 June 2012.
We boarded the ship in Amsterdam. My folks were kind enough to get me my own stateroom, which had everything I could need (no window, but under the circumstances, I’m not picky)… nice little bachelor pad. Plus destinations in the U.K. and Norwegian fjords… this is lookin’ good!
Ah, but just one detail - about 98.4% of the people on this boat are in their 60s or older.
Oh.
(2) is Sunday, 3 June 2012.
We were at sea today en route to Newcastle. It’s a nice ship. Really good food included in the price (and some premium restaurants for an additional reservation fee), fun trivia and karaoke events, good bands performing nightly in the various bars, and gloriously awful mainstage acts every night.
Well, at this rate, we should be getting through the entry fairly quickly.
(3) is Monday, 4 June 2012.
Our first port of call was Newcastle, England, and my mom had made plans for us to take the train to nearby Durham. It’s a lovely little university town also based around a gorgeous cathedral. We sightsaw, we had lunch in a pub (my heart beats – and will one day stop – for fish n’ chips), and we even took a little spin around Newcastle itself before getting back on the boat.
Stopping in the U.K. was also fun because that weekend (extended to four days) was Queen Elizabeth’s Diamond Jubilee, a U.K.-wide celebration of her 60 years on the throne. There were flags everywhere, special displays in the shops, performers and people in the squares, and a good deal of confusion on our part as to why a “Diamond Jubilee” didn’t mean 75 years.
Oh, forget it. She’s the Queen of England. If she says diamond is 60, then diamond’s 60.
(4) is Tuesday, 5 June 2012.
Edinburgh (best pronounced “ED-in-BRUH,” the experts tell me) is one of my favorite cities. In the world. I was there two years prior (to the day, almost) and I had since regretted not spending more time there.
Here’s my shortlist for seeing the town (notice how not-short it is). Start at the top of the Royal Mile, Edinburgh’s historic main street, where you can either see the castle or skip it (it’s cool, but pricey), then walk down the hill and catch the churches and old parliament and judicial buildings. Stop in at The World’s End pub for a great meal (anything you order will be good) accompanied by an Irn Bru (Scotland’s much-loved, not saccharine take on orange soda) and perhaps a local whisky (rotated monthly). If you like fudge, stop in at either The Fudge House or The Fudge Kitchen for a snack, and continue down the hill. Look around for hidden gardens or cool staircases (called “closes”), and finally you’ll arrive at Scotland’s current Parliament building and Holyrood Palace (the Queen’s residence in Scotland). Take tours if you fancy. You'll also be at the foot of Arthur’s Seat, a mountainous burst of land that came about from prehistoric volcanic activity. If the weather’s good and you’re game for a few hours’ (sometimes challenging) walk, climb to the top for some stunning landscapes and impressive panoramas.
I should also note, though, that Calton Hill also offers a fine view of the city and Arthur’s Seat and is a much more reasonable walk. It’s also at the end of Prince’s Street, Edinburgh’s other big avenue, and your best bet for shopping. It’s on Prince’s Street that you’ll find Edinburgh’s main train station and lovely gardens that offer some terrific views up at the castle and other buildings on the outside of the Royal Mile.
(5) is Wednesday, 6 June 2012.
Invergordon, Scotland isn't a thrill, although it was fun to tour Cawdor Castle, which has ties to Shakespeare's 'Macbeth'. Lovely castle, and one of the few I’ve ever toured that actually inspired some desire to actually live there (it's fully furnished, still home to nobility). But I didn’t come to see just another pretty castle; I came to see Macbeth's castle. Oh, well. The Scottish highlands in that area are still pretty, but if you want the best of the highlands (and you do), I recommend the Isle of Skye.
(6) is Thursday, 7 June 2012.
At sea again. I can't tell you how great it is, by the way, to see real bacon again. For a country renowned for food, you'd think France could get that right.
(7) is Friday, 8 June 2012.
Ålesund, Norway (pronounced a lot like “Allison”? Maybe? As best I could tell?) is small but beautiful. I kid you not when I say it looks like Hawaii, but with bigger mountains. Norway is, statistically, the most expensive country in the world. But who cares. It’s fjord country. And all the destinations are gonna’ be (up in) here until we land in Copenhagen.
(8) is Saturday, 9 June 2012.
Geirenger lends itself best to the (eventual) pictures, 'cause it's gorgeous. If you’re in Norway (just, y’know, passin’ through, as one does) then I highly recommend it. I would even go so far as to say that it’s a place you can’t AF-FJORD to miss!
Somebody take this laptop away from me. Please.
(9) is Saturday, 10 June 2012.
Flåm may have had the best fjord views yet. I swear – I felt like I was in a ‘Star Wars’ movie. Any second, I expected a ship (I know a few of their actual names, but I don’t feel like inserting a copyright symbol afterward) to come screaming past, with enemy fighters hot on its tail blasting lasers all the way through these epic ravines.
Well. It’s a good thing that didn’t happen, because this place was breathtaking. The water was so still and clear it looked digitally animated when the ship sent slow ripples through it.
The area around Flåm is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, including its renowned local train ride (about 45 minutes one way). It’s scenic, but I'd sooner suggest the beautiful two-hour boat ride over to Gudvangen and 15-minute bus ride back to Flåm, packaged together by tour companies Sognefjorden and/or Fjord1.
Heh, heh...! Remember the part when I said we'd get through this quickly? Yeah, that was funny...!
(10) is Sunday, 11 June 2012.
Now, the problem with doing the fjords before the end is that they make an impossible act to follow. That’s an added problem that unexciting, touristy Bergen really doesn’t need.
(11) is Monday, 12 June 2012.
Kristiansand is a little better than Bergen: it's a beach/getaway place that owns its touristy-ness better. It's very walkable little town (the map is literally a rectangular grid) with a charming fish market near the port. The only head-scratcher is that there isn't much beach. Oh, Norway.
(12) is Wednesday, 13 June 2012.
You’d think Oslo, capital of the fine nation of Norway, would be a big stop on our cruise. We only got half a day here, which is a shame, since this up-and-coming town is bursting with cool new architecture (like its crazy-angled, opera house with a roof-accessible from the street). There are also a lot of neat design shops – you know, the ones full of cleverly crafted silverware, kitchen and office supplies (maybe a combination of the two???), and neat museums. We paid a visit to their national gallery, which has a handsome collection of all the European crowd, and some of the most famous works by Norwegian great Edvard Munch.
I think it would have been better if the cruise had taken us to Oslo and Kristiansand first, Bergen not at all, and then the fjords as a finale. On the other hand, we had grey weather toward the end, so that may be a toss-up. Also, did I mention that we had sunsets consistently around 11:45 PM? And they were gorgeous?
. . .
…And I know this isn’t technically part of the cruise, but…
(13) is Thursday, 14 June 2012.
Welcome to Copenhagen, Denmark! After getting off the boat and dropping our bags at our hotel, we had one day to explore the city and its environs. My parents had stopped in here before Berlin, so we got to skip normal stuff and get on a train to Hamlet’s castle.
Yes. Jealousy is the right response. The nerdy response, but the right response.
Kronborg Castle is just stunning, and the cloudy weather actually set the tone perfectly. The castle goes by “Elsinore” in the play, but the real one is located in Helsingør (“Ohhhhhhhhh!” the readers rejoice). This is another (deserving) UNESCO site, and I want to give them big props for their very innovative, creative visual aides and displays that really enhance the experience without being annoying or dense. This castle also just feels right -- 'Hamlet' makes sense here (that is, as much as 'Hamlet' ever makes sense... says the actor kid...). One cool thing, though, is that every summer, they mount a full-scale production of a Shakespearean tragedy (usually Hamlet, but it does vary) in the castle's giant, stately courtyard.
Helsingør itself is also very charming. We stopped in at a lunch place that turned out to be tasty, and pastries and tea at Moller’s Conditori turned out to be delicious.
We wandered back to the train, hit Copenhagen, and walked around for a while. It’s a neat city… wish I had more time to explore. It’s like Budapest, in that there’s a lot of neat detail work in the building facades. And as gorgeous as the city is, that is nothing compared to the people (especially women, to be biased) walking around it. We had dinner at Sticks and Sushi, a local chain that serves an excellent meal.
Friday, 15 June 2012
Copenhagen to Reykjavik. Reykjavik to Washington. The end.
. . .
Thanks for reading this year, folks. I hope you enjoyed. And if I go back next year, stay tuned for the third blog (****, will I really have started three blogs?)
Yes, I will. I’m not keeping adorable little French kids’ English mistakes to myself.
-Andy
Showing posts with label Good Weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Good Weather. Show all posts
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
All Hectic Things Cannes (and Do) Come to an End
I've got one last movie (p)review for you...
'Mud' (Jeff Nichols, 2012)
Two intrepid middle schoolers become go-betweens for Mud, an intriguing runaway, and his girlfriend, Juniper… who has come to the boys’ Alabama town at the same time as state troopers and bounty hunters seeking Mud.
Finally, something uplifting! 'Mud' is a focused, heartfelt, fairy-tale-ish story told in a refreshingly down-to-earth way. Matthew McConaughey, while not spellbinding, does a fine job as Mud... it's the boys who act their little hearts out: both are endearing and together make a fun, truthful duo. But the real hero here is the script. It’s well-plotted, full of likeable (yet still believable) characters, and it explores love with intelligence, sensitivity, and a childlike curiosity... and most importantly of all (to me), it's an original screenplay. So, no, 'Mud' doesn’t have the prestige picture qualities of 'Amour' [Love] (which won the Palme d’Or), or create a world as strikingly poetic as that of 'Beasts of the Southern Wild', but I think it just might be my favorite movie I’ve seen at Cannes. I highly recommend it.
. . .
I'm not quite sure what else I can say about the festival... Annie and I decided to end on a (rare) positive note, rather than going to see Mads Mikkelsen (the villain in 'Casino Royale') in 'The Hunt', which seemed very sobering (though he won the festival's best actor award for his part in it). I saw an even 20 movies in 11 days: all well-made, all for no admission price, most of them depressing, and all but one of them worth watching (that being 'Beyond the Hills', which OF COURSE won best actress awards and best screenplay... really made my blood boil).
A few words need perhaps be said of the awards... no big surprises, except that 'Holy Motors' and all of the American entries got snubbed. Here's the list:
BEST SCREENPLAY: Cristian Mungiu, 'Beyond the Hills' (grrr... 'Mud' totally deserved it more)
BEST ACTOR: Mads Mikkelsen, for his role in 'The Hunt'
BEST ACTRESS: Cosmina Stratan and Cristina Flutur, for their roles in 'Beyond the Hills'
BEST DIRECTOR: Carlos Reygadas, for his direction of 'Post Tenebras Lux' (a Mexican film I didn't see)
CAMERA D'OR (Best Film by a New Director): 'Beasts of the Southern Wild', directed by Benh Zeitlin
JURY PRIZE (3rd place): 'The Angels' Share', directed by Ken Loach (a Scottish comedy about petty criminals trying to go straight by going into the whiskey business... got great reviews)
GRAND PRIX (2nd place... oh, France...): 'Reality', directed by Matteo Garrone
PALME D'OR (Best Picture): 'Amour', directed by Michael Haneke
. . .
So, that's the festival. And that's France. Next stop: Germany.
'Mud' (Jeff Nichols, 2012)
Two intrepid middle schoolers become go-betweens for Mud, an intriguing runaway, and his girlfriend, Juniper… who has come to the boys’ Alabama town at the same time as state troopers and bounty hunters seeking Mud.
Finally, something uplifting! 'Mud' is a focused, heartfelt, fairy-tale-ish story told in a refreshingly down-to-earth way. Matthew McConaughey, while not spellbinding, does a fine job as Mud... it's the boys who act their little hearts out: both are endearing and together make a fun, truthful duo. But the real hero here is the script. It’s well-plotted, full of likeable (yet still believable) characters, and it explores love with intelligence, sensitivity, and a childlike curiosity... and most importantly of all (to me), it's an original screenplay. So, no, 'Mud' doesn’t have the prestige picture qualities of 'Amour' [Love] (which won the Palme d’Or), or create a world as strikingly poetic as that of 'Beasts of the Southern Wild', but I think it just might be my favorite movie I’ve seen at Cannes. I highly recommend it.
. . .
I'm not quite sure what else I can say about the festival... Annie and I decided to end on a (rare) positive note, rather than going to see Mads Mikkelsen (the villain in 'Casino Royale') in 'The Hunt', which seemed very sobering (though he won the festival's best actor award for his part in it). I saw an even 20 movies in 11 days: all well-made, all for no admission price, most of them depressing, and all but one of them worth watching (that being 'Beyond the Hills', which OF COURSE won best actress awards and best screenplay... really made my blood boil).
A few words need perhaps be said of the awards... no big surprises, except that 'Holy Motors' and all of the American entries got snubbed. Here's the list:
BEST SCREENPLAY: Cristian Mungiu, 'Beyond the Hills' (grrr... 'Mud' totally deserved it more)
BEST ACTOR: Mads Mikkelsen, for his role in 'The Hunt'
BEST ACTRESS: Cosmina Stratan and Cristina Flutur, for their roles in 'Beyond the Hills'
BEST DIRECTOR: Carlos Reygadas, for his direction of 'Post Tenebras Lux' (a Mexican film I didn't see)
CAMERA D'OR (Best Film by a New Director): 'Beasts of the Southern Wild', directed by Benh Zeitlin
JURY PRIZE (3rd place): 'The Angels' Share', directed by Ken Loach (a Scottish comedy about petty criminals trying to go straight by going into the whiskey business... got great reviews)
GRAND PRIX (2nd place... oh, France...): 'Reality', directed by Matteo Garrone
PALME D'OR (Best Picture): 'Amour', directed by Michael Haneke
. . .
So, that's the festival. And that's France. Next stop: Germany.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Holy Motors, Batman!
Let's start with movie talk.
'Holy Motors' (Leos Carax, 2012)
A day in the life of Monsieur Oscar, who changes lives with the ease – and resources – of an expert actor. But where are the cameras?
This one requires a playful willingness to wonder just what the hell is going on (I'm talking to you, 'Donnie Darko' fans). But if you can muster that, you might well enjoy the intriguing premise, strong performance(s) by the lead actor, and strangely compelling, unconnected scenes. It sort of borders on the edge of making sense, and unlike most of the other serious movies I've seen here, there's plenty of comic relief to be had. Also, come on -- doesn't "Holy Motors" sound like the kind of thing Robin would shout in a 1940s comic book?
'7 Días en la Habana' [7 Days in Havana] (Benicio del Toro, Pablo Trapero, Julio Medern, Elia Suleiman, Juan Carlos Tabio, Gaspar Noé, Laurent Cantet, 2012)
Follows seven consecutive days in Havana, each through the eyes of various people, Cubans and non-Cubans alike. Each ‘day’ is directed by a different director.
It's an interesting premise - 7 days, 7 directors - but as such, it's a pretty mixed bag. Basically, you've got seven almost totally unrelated short films about Havana grouped together, and I'd say there are three-ish good ones... the rest are variously bluntly written, bizarre and plotless (there's a bathing ritual... that's all I got), or just uninteresting. My advice is to watch the first and second ones and whichever one Elia Suleiman directs and stars in.
'The Paperboy' (Lee Daniels, 2012)
In the 1960s, Miami reporter Ward James and his posh black associate return to a small town to investigate the unjust trial of a convict with the help of Ward’s aimless brother, who falls hard for the barbaric convict’s devoted girlfriend.
Heads-up: this is from the director who brought us 'Precious', so expect no pulled punches on issues that run the gamut from racism to domestic abuse and reckless (to put it mildly) sexual proclivities. That said, though, I enjoyed this movie -- a compelling plot (even if it's taken from a novel), several strong performances (favorites include Nicole Kidman, an against-type John Cusack, and a hilariously delightful Macy Gray, known for her recent work in 'The Help'). I would also like to point out that 'The Paperboy' gets my vote for the best film editing I've seen at Cannes this year.
'Jaws' (Steven Spielberg, 1975)
A huge, territorial great white starts eating unsuspecting swimmers in a New England town, but the concerned, hydrophobic sheriff’s efforts to close the beaches and hunt the beast meet with opposition from the image- and money-obsessed mayor.
This was another showing in the 'Cannes Classics' category, and to sweeten the deal, they showed it the night I saw it on the beach with lounge chairs and a big projector. I mean, come on -- where better to watch 'Jaws' for the first time? Anyway, as for the movie itself, the suspense in the first 20-ish minutes had to be my favorite part... I loved how they play with your expectations, and once they go out to sea, it got less interesting (I didn't like the two-dimensional fisherman character). But I definitely enjoyed hating the mayor, I always like Richard Dreyfuss, and the shark looked pretty darn good for 1975. It's also so interesting to me to think that this is what a summer blockbuster used to look like... nowadays, it would be a sleeper hit among horror fans, maybe noted for a good line or three and some decent setpieces.
'Cosmopolis' (David Cronenberg, 2012)
As anti-capitalist riots threaten and a presidential visit blocks traffic, young finance genius Eric Packer journeys across New York in his sleek limo to get a haircut. As the day progresses, he ruminates with associates over his sexless new marriage, the nature of finance, and the rising value of the Yuan… which he has bet against with all his fortune.
The sad truth is that I can go on as long as I like about great production design that creates a sleek, clinically calm professional world, how Robert Pattinson's deadpan actually makes him a nice fit for it, how fascinating the movie's philosophy discussions are, and even the thematic tie-ins with the rest of David Cronenberg's filmography... but the fact is, the dialogue in this movie is unbelievably dense. And while it does pose interesting questions and serve to cement the world of the movie, it's very slow, intentionally unnatural, and relentlessly serious... there's virtually zero break in that style for this entire two-hour movie light on plot, and that makes it very difficult to sit through, even if I'm sure Cronenberg took most of the dialogue from Don DeLillo's novel. Cronenberg and DeLillo fans: it's worth a try. Everyone else: you have been warned.
'On the Road' (Walter Salles, 2012)
Eager to write and gain new experiences, Sal Paradise joins his new, reckless friend Dean Moriarty and his free-spirited, promiscuous wife Marylou on a road trip around the country.
This was a very well-made movie, but the whole beat generation thing probably just isn't for me. I didn’t like the terse drum-patter soundtrack, and the color palette – while appropriate – was so bleak I felt nauseous. I didn’t mind the lack of plot, but at almost two and a half hours, some trimming was in order. For what it’s worth, though, I am now curious about Kerouac’s novel. Also, Kristen Stewart really can’t act. And Garrett Hedlund (played Moriarty, and who I dismissed after 'Tron: Legacy') really, really can.
'Elefante Blanco' (Pablo Trapero, 2012)
When he receives a terminal diagnosis, a priest working in an impoverished Brazilian community calls a close colleague to help him… but with gang wars raging and construction money drying up, even two priests might not be enough to save the community.
This was another one in a language I don’t speak with French subtitles, so I couldn’t really follow who was who, what side they were on, or who they were up against. But it was well done, and I think the location really brought out stronger performances in the actors. I felt like I was watching real people in real, sympathy-evoking situations (I didn’t realize until the credits that the new priest was French star actor Jeremy Renier). Several long traveling takes were also interesting. Bottom line: I doubt I’ll watch it again, but I don't regret having given it a try.
'Antiviral' (Brandon Cronenberg, 2012)
Syd March works for the Lucas Clinic, where clients can be infected with their favorite celebrities’ diseases. But when Syd starts slipping in his black market moonlighting gig, he injects himself with a superstar’s newest bug… and starts suffering the deadly symptoms.
Brandon is David Cronenberg's son, and the grotesque apple doesn't fall far from the gory gree. I thought this was a fascinating premise (perhaps because of my background studying David Cronenberg), and it makes for an excellent, piercing commentary on the culture of celebrity obsession. Great, austere production design and some gripping, horrifying imagery. The whole thing is very grotesque, there's a lot of blood, and a lot to do with needles. I'm also not wild about the plotting... pacing droops for a while after the halfway mark, and the plot gets a bit muddled. This one is for a very specific taste.
. . .
So, tomorrow, Annie and I are going to see 'Mud', and maybe another (very serious) movie called 'The Hunt', starring Mads Mikkelsen, who played the villain in 'Casino Royale'. I will fill you in after I see it/them.
So, like I said, a lot of time goes to waiting in lines, but Annie and I have also gotten really good at begging for extra tickets. We have a 5-for-4 record, which is to say we've gotten so good that we get free tickets when we're not even trying. We were between screenings today when a cop flagged us down and gave us his two tickets to this Monday night's gala screening of whichever movie wins the Palme d'Or ('Golden Palm', equivalent of Best Picture). We're really rooting for 'De Rouille et d'Os' (Of Rust and Bone), a French movie with strong reviews and Marion Cotillard, just because we didn't get to see it. I'm fairly sure, though, that it will go to 'Amour' instead (about the old couple - I talked about it last time).
So, the festival has been pretty hectic... I'll be relieved to be out of such a crazy, people-packed setting, and hopefully I'll have the chance to see some less serious movies... but this has been a unique experience. I think the ticket begging will make up my favorite memories. And I haven't hobnobbed with too many more celebrities... Nanni Moretti, the notoriously cantankerous Jury President for this year, was at the 'Jaws' screening, and I do keep seeing Alexander Payne (wrote and directed 'The Descendants' and 'Sideways') all over the place. His new nickname is 'A-Payne'. The trouble with celebrity spotting around here is that, unless you stake out a spot near the red carpet hours in advance of a gala screening (before it gets fenced off), you're not likely to run into too many famous folks.
Tomorrow (Sunday, 27 May) is the last day of the festival. One last entry about that, and then I'm off to travel Germany, and then the UK and Norway by cruise liner.
We're almost done here.
-Andy
'Holy Motors' (Leos Carax, 2012)
A day in the life of Monsieur Oscar, who changes lives with the ease – and resources – of an expert actor. But where are the cameras?
This one requires a playful willingness to wonder just what the hell is going on (I'm talking to you, 'Donnie Darko' fans). But if you can muster that, you might well enjoy the intriguing premise, strong performance(s) by the lead actor, and strangely compelling, unconnected scenes. It sort of borders on the edge of making sense, and unlike most of the other serious movies I've seen here, there's plenty of comic relief to be had. Also, come on -- doesn't "Holy Motors" sound like the kind of thing Robin would shout in a 1940s comic book?
'7 Días en la Habana' [7 Days in Havana] (Benicio del Toro, Pablo Trapero, Julio Medern, Elia Suleiman, Juan Carlos Tabio, Gaspar Noé, Laurent Cantet, 2012)
Follows seven consecutive days in Havana, each through the eyes of various people, Cubans and non-Cubans alike. Each ‘day’ is directed by a different director.
It's an interesting premise - 7 days, 7 directors - but as such, it's a pretty mixed bag. Basically, you've got seven almost totally unrelated short films about Havana grouped together, and I'd say there are three-ish good ones... the rest are variously bluntly written, bizarre and plotless (there's a bathing ritual... that's all I got), or just uninteresting. My advice is to watch the first and second ones and whichever one Elia Suleiman directs and stars in.
'The Paperboy' (Lee Daniels, 2012)
In the 1960s, Miami reporter Ward James and his posh black associate return to a small town to investigate the unjust trial of a convict with the help of Ward’s aimless brother, who falls hard for the barbaric convict’s devoted girlfriend.
Heads-up: this is from the director who brought us 'Precious', so expect no pulled punches on issues that run the gamut from racism to domestic abuse and reckless (to put it mildly) sexual proclivities. That said, though, I enjoyed this movie -- a compelling plot (even if it's taken from a novel), several strong performances (favorites include Nicole Kidman, an against-type John Cusack, and a hilariously delightful Macy Gray, known for her recent work in 'The Help'). I would also like to point out that 'The Paperboy' gets my vote for the best film editing I've seen at Cannes this year.
'Jaws' (Steven Spielberg, 1975)
A huge, territorial great white starts eating unsuspecting swimmers in a New England town, but the concerned, hydrophobic sheriff’s efforts to close the beaches and hunt the beast meet with opposition from the image- and money-obsessed mayor.
This was another showing in the 'Cannes Classics' category, and to sweeten the deal, they showed it the night I saw it on the beach with lounge chairs and a big projector. I mean, come on -- where better to watch 'Jaws' for the first time? Anyway, as for the movie itself, the suspense in the first 20-ish minutes had to be my favorite part... I loved how they play with your expectations, and once they go out to sea, it got less interesting (I didn't like the two-dimensional fisherman character). But I definitely enjoyed hating the mayor, I always like Richard Dreyfuss, and the shark looked pretty darn good for 1975. It's also so interesting to me to think that this is what a summer blockbuster used to look like... nowadays, it would be a sleeper hit among horror fans, maybe noted for a good line or three and some decent setpieces.
'Cosmopolis' (David Cronenberg, 2012)
As anti-capitalist riots threaten and a presidential visit blocks traffic, young finance genius Eric Packer journeys across New York in his sleek limo to get a haircut. As the day progresses, he ruminates with associates over his sexless new marriage, the nature of finance, and the rising value of the Yuan… which he has bet against with all his fortune.
The sad truth is that I can go on as long as I like about great production design that creates a sleek, clinically calm professional world, how Robert Pattinson's deadpan actually makes him a nice fit for it, how fascinating the movie's philosophy discussions are, and even the thematic tie-ins with the rest of David Cronenberg's filmography... but the fact is, the dialogue in this movie is unbelievably dense. And while it does pose interesting questions and serve to cement the world of the movie, it's very slow, intentionally unnatural, and relentlessly serious... there's virtually zero break in that style for this entire two-hour movie light on plot, and that makes it very difficult to sit through, even if I'm sure Cronenberg took most of the dialogue from Don DeLillo's novel. Cronenberg and DeLillo fans: it's worth a try. Everyone else: you have been warned.
'On the Road' (Walter Salles, 2012)
Eager to write and gain new experiences, Sal Paradise joins his new, reckless friend Dean Moriarty and his free-spirited, promiscuous wife Marylou on a road trip around the country.
This was a very well-made movie, but the whole beat generation thing probably just isn't for me. I didn’t like the terse drum-patter soundtrack, and the color palette – while appropriate – was so bleak I felt nauseous. I didn’t mind the lack of plot, but at almost two and a half hours, some trimming was in order. For what it’s worth, though, I am now curious about Kerouac’s novel. Also, Kristen Stewart really can’t act. And Garrett Hedlund (played Moriarty, and who I dismissed after 'Tron: Legacy') really, really can.
'Elefante Blanco' (Pablo Trapero, 2012)
When he receives a terminal diagnosis, a priest working in an impoverished Brazilian community calls a close colleague to help him… but with gang wars raging and construction money drying up, even two priests might not be enough to save the community.
This was another one in a language I don’t speak with French subtitles, so I couldn’t really follow who was who, what side they were on, or who they were up against. But it was well done, and I think the location really brought out stronger performances in the actors. I felt like I was watching real people in real, sympathy-evoking situations (I didn’t realize until the credits that the new priest was French star actor Jeremy Renier). Several long traveling takes were also interesting. Bottom line: I doubt I’ll watch it again, but I don't regret having given it a try.
'Antiviral' (Brandon Cronenberg, 2012)
Syd March works for the Lucas Clinic, where clients can be infected with their favorite celebrities’ diseases. But when Syd starts slipping in his black market moonlighting gig, he injects himself with a superstar’s newest bug… and starts suffering the deadly symptoms.
Brandon is David Cronenberg's son, and the grotesque apple doesn't fall far from the gory gree. I thought this was a fascinating premise (perhaps because of my background studying David Cronenberg), and it makes for an excellent, piercing commentary on the culture of celebrity obsession. Great, austere production design and some gripping, horrifying imagery. The whole thing is very grotesque, there's a lot of blood, and a lot to do with needles. I'm also not wild about the plotting... pacing droops for a while after the halfway mark, and the plot gets a bit muddled. This one is for a very specific taste.
. . .
So, tomorrow, Annie and I are going to see 'Mud', and maybe another (very serious) movie called 'The Hunt', starring Mads Mikkelsen, who played the villain in 'Casino Royale'. I will fill you in after I see it/them.
So, like I said, a lot of time goes to waiting in lines, but Annie and I have also gotten really good at begging for extra tickets. We have a 5-for-4 record, which is to say we've gotten so good that we get free tickets when we're not even trying. We were between screenings today when a cop flagged us down and gave us his two tickets to this Monday night's gala screening of whichever movie wins the Palme d'Or ('Golden Palm', equivalent of Best Picture). We're really rooting for 'De Rouille et d'Os' (Of Rust and Bone), a French movie with strong reviews and Marion Cotillard, just because we didn't get to see it. I'm fairly sure, though, that it will go to 'Amour' instead (about the old couple - I talked about it last time).
So, the festival has been pretty hectic... I'll be relieved to be out of such a crazy, people-packed setting, and hopefully I'll have the chance to see some less serious movies... but this has been a unique experience. I think the ticket begging will make up my favorite memories. And I haven't hobnobbed with too many more celebrities... Nanni Moretti, the notoriously cantankerous Jury President for this year, was at the 'Jaws' screening, and I do keep seeing Alexander Payne (wrote and directed 'The Descendants' and 'Sideways') all over the place. His new nickname is 'A-Payne'. The trouble with celebrity spotting around here is that, unless you stake out a spot near the red carpet hours in advance of a gala screening (before it gets fenced off), you're not likely to run into too many famous folks.
Tomorrow (Sunday, 27 May) is the last day of the festival. One last entry about that, and then I'm off to travel Germany, and then the UK and Norway by cruise liner.
We're almost done here.
-Andy
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Cannes: Day One
I kinda' like this 'day after' format... My schedule, it seems, would strongly agree.
Let's talk about the badges you need for this festival. Badges, I'm told, make a world of difference between getting into the big screenings and not. Apparently, even if you're tenacious enough, creative enough, or just plain attractive enough to panhandle for tickets to the big screenings inside the Palais des Festivals, without some kind of badge you're dead in the water. The badges are all reserved for professionals - movie producers, distributors, agents, actors, technicians, directors, reporters, etc. (Notice, by the way, the proportion in that list to business-y jobs to "creative" jobs.) Badges are given only to those who have a bona fide professional justification to - as one of my least favorite teachers used to say - "run with the big dogs."
I have no such credentials. As of now, I'm just a guy with a few screenplays, fewer contacts, and not much direct experience with this business. I explain all of this to you so that, when I proclaim that I still got a badge (thanks to a local film society), you understand just how freaking long it's going to take me to count all my lucky stars.
Fortunately, that serves a writing purpose beyond telling you something you already know. It also helps set the tone. Cannes is now crawling with people wearing black lanyards with palm frond logos and names of festival sponsors. That's pretty crazy, but it's nothing compared to 6:15 PM.
That's when the guests to the opening ceremony show up. Star light, star bright. Minus the "star light" part. The red carpet was a pretty star-heavy affair. And fan-heavier. Between all the gawkers and the rerouted traffic for black cars to have room, you should never complain about another traffic jam again.
At any rate, since the opening ceremony was in the evening, there were no movies to catch in the afternoon and I didn't have anything on which to write my humble request for strangers' spare evening tickets. The opening film, by the way, was Wes Anderson's promising new comedy 'Moonrise Kingdom', whose stellar cast includes Edward Norton, Bruce Willis, Tilda Swinton, Frances McDormand, and Bill Murray). One of the theatres to which I know I have access (space permitting) will screen the movie on Friday night, though, and it's more out of the way. Which is good for me.
So, after the madness of... all that... I showed a Cannes newcomer around for a while. Lena is good friends with one of the assistants I was pals with this year (said assistant, Krisia, being the one who told me most of everything I know about this here festival). We walked around, scoped out screening spaces, and even found our way into the reception area of the Palais des Festivals, which I had heard might throw me and my less-official badge out if I even got close. They didn't... as a matter of fact, most of the security folks seem very friendly (even when they refuse you access to other areas).
We had dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, where one diner, an older French gentleman, got really, really upset because I was carrying a San Pellegrino bottle around (he would have much preferred that, being in a restaurant, I set it down on his table, at least). I didn't get the whole of his rant (neither did the sweet lady at the next table, with whom I traded chuckling glances). But the gist of it was that apparently that's a particularly unclassy, stupid-looking American thing to do. When I started smiling and thanking him for his kind words - because my earnest inquiry as to his concern was getting me nowhere - he decided all hope was lost for my generation.
But that's the film festival for you - you never know what'll happen next. You might even find an iPhone on the street.
Yeah. It was a 4S. I got it back to its owner, some manager-type lady for a business in Marseille (her business card says), who thanked me profusely and promised to put me on the list for a short film series screening next week she's helping to run. (It's apparently a minor competition of its own, whose jury apparently includes the director of 'The Lion King'). Sounds cool to me. I'm glad it worked out okay and that she could keep working (though not half as glad as she was), and I'm glad that after one day I made it onto a list for something I didn't have access to when I woke up that morning.
Networking is a strange, strange thing.
. . .
This morning, I got up early to go into town and wait with Annie (fellow former assistant and festival attendee) to get giveaway tickets from our film society. It's basically like TKTS in London and New York. You go get in line and you get to pick tickets from whatever screenings they have to offer. We had hoped there would be tickets to big-name, in-competition films, but there weren't. And Annie's schedule for the day didn't mesh very well with their offerings.
But (and here's the teaser for tomorrow's entry)... I like to look on the bright side:
Let's talk about the badges you need for this festival. Badges, I'm told, make a world of difference between getting into the big screenings and not. Apparently, even if you're tenacious enough, creative enough, or just plain attractive enough to panhandle for tickets to the big screenings inside the Palais des Festivals, without some kind of badge you're dead in the water. The badges are all reserved for professionals - movie producers, distributors, agents, actors, technicians, directors, reporters, etc. (Notice, by the way, the proportion in that list to business-y jobs to "creative" jobs.) Badges are given only to those who have a bona fide professional justification to - as one of my least favorite teachers used to say - "run with the big dogs."
I have no such credentials. As of now, I'm just a guy with a few screenplays, fewer contacts, and not much direct experience with this business. I explain all of this to you so that, when I proclaim that I still got a badge (thanks to a local film society), you understand just how freaking long it's going to take me to count all my lucky stars.
Fortunately, that serves a writing purpose beyond telling you something you already know. It also helps set the tone. Cannes is now crawling with people wearing black lanyards with palm frond logos and names of festival sponsors. That's pretty crazy, but it's nothing compared to 6:15 PM.
That's when the guests to the opening ceremony show up. Star light, star bright. Minus the "star light" part. The red carpet was a pretty star-heavy affair. And fan-heavier. Between all the gawkers and the rerouted traffic for black cars to have room, you should never complain about another traffic jam again.
At any rate, since the opening ceremony was in the evening, there were no movies to catch in the afternoon and I didn't have anything on which to write my humble request for strangers' spare evening tickets. The opening film, by the way, was Wes Anderson's promising new comedy 'Moonrise Kingdom', whose stellar cast includes Edward Norton, Bruce Willis, Tilda Swinton, Frances McDormand, and Bill Murray). One of the theatres to which I know I have access (space permitting) will screen the movie on Friday night, though, and it's more out of the way. Which is good for me.
So, after the madness of... all that... I showed a Cannes newcomer around for a while. Lena is good friends with one of the assistants I was pals with this year (said assistant, Krisia, being the one who told me most of everything I know about this here festival). We walked around, scoped out screening spaces, and even found our way into the reception area of the Palais des Festivals, which I had heard might throw me and my less-official badge out if I even got close. They didn't... as a matter of fact, most of the security folks seem very friendly (even when they refuse you access to other areas).
We had dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, where one diner, an older French gentleman, got really, really upset because I was carrying a San Pellegrino bottle around (he would have much preferred that, being in a restaurant, I set it down on his table, at least). I didn't get the whole of his rant (neither did the sweet lady at the next table, with whom I traded chuckling glances). But the gist of it was that apparently that's a particularly unclassy, stupid-looking American thing to do. When I started smiling and thanking him for his kind words - because my earnest inquiry as to his concern was getting me nowhere - he decided all hope was lost for my generation.
But that's the film festival for you - you never know what'll happen next. You might even find an iPhone on the street.
Yeah. It was a 4S. I got it back to its owner, some manager-type lady for a business in Marseille (her business card says), who thanked me profusely and promised to put me on the list for a short film series screening next week she's helping to run. (It's apparently a minor competition of its own, whose jury apparently includes the director of 'The Lion King'). Sounds cool to me. I'm glad it worked out okay and that she could keep working (though not half as glad as she was), and I'm glad that after one day I made it onto a list for something I didn't have access to when I woke up that morning.
Networking is a strange, strange thing.
. . .
This morning, I got up early to go into town and wait with Annie (fellow former assistant and festival attendee) to get giveaway tickets from our film society. It's basically like TKTS in London and New York. You go get in line and you get to pick tickets from whatever screenings they have to offer. We had hoped there would be tickets to big-name, in-competition films, but there weren't. And Annie's schedule for the day didn't mesh very well with their offerings.
But (and here's the teaser for tomorrow's entry)... I like to look on the bright side:
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Weekend Things
I think, after this entry, I'll finally be caught up. I've been explorin' a bit...!
Amy Evans and I went to Eze a few weeks ago and took these pictures. Cool place, Eze -- I thought Grasse was isolated up on a hill.
No. That's this place.
But at least it has the views to (more than) make up for it. On a warmer day, I will go back and take the hour-plus hike from the seaside up to the center of town. It's another one of those tightly interwoven cobblestone passage deals, like St-Paul-de-Vence, and it boasts two very, VERY nice hotels/villa neighborhoods. Like, we're talking my entire month's salary for a weekend stay. Amy and I had hot chocolates at the terrace cafe of one of them. You'll see the pictures.
Nice has also been pretty good to me lately... I did a little shopping, 'cause the French government decides when things go on sale, rather than stores themselves. One-euro bus from Grasse to Nice is The Best Thing.
I also had the pleasure of seeing a dance show in Menton a few weeks back. I went with Nice teaching assistant Jenifer Queen (and we ate at Pizzeria Vesuvio, which I mentioned a few entries back) to see this Amnesty International benefit show put together by local dance classes... who were surprisingly good. A third assistant (Jennifer Lindblom) works with Amnesty's Menton chapter, so she told us it was happening. I stage managed dance shows back in high school and always went to Vassar's, so this was a nice throwback as well.
On a separate occasion, Jenifer Queen and I also saw The Descendants and found dinner at le 22 septembre, located here in Nice. Outstanding food on a very affordable 4-course menu (we could barely finish it all). I had a warm mushroom quiche, a steak with (basically) fries, a cheese and salad course, and profiteroles for dessert. 17 euros. And it was all delicious. Plus, they had tables available with no reservation required at 10 PM. We had a great time. A big thank-you to Molly Smego for the recommendation.
Another thank-you goes to Amy, who introduced me to (the oddly named) Choopy's on the corner of Rue Vial and Rue du Marc in Antibes. You can get a full breakfast (eggs, toast, tasty preserves, hot chocolate, genu-ine bagel sandwiches, and even cupcakes) here in a cozy little cafe with a pal. Nice way to spend a Sunday morning.
My promise to you: the very next entry will bring narrative focus back.
-Andy
Amy Evans and I went to Eze a few weeks ago and took these pictures. Cool place, Eze -- I thought Grasse was isolated up on a hill.
No. That's this place.
But at least it has the views to (more than) make up for it. On a warmer day, I will go back and take the hour-plus hike from the seaside up to the center of town. It's another one of those tightly interwoven cobblestone passage deals, like St-Paul-de-Vence, and it boasts two very, VERY nice hotels/villa neighborhoods. Like, we're talking my entire month's salary for a weekend stay. Amy and I had hot chocolates at the terrace cafe of one of them. You'll see the pictures.
Nice has also been pretty good to me lately... I did a little shopping, 'cause the French government decides when things go on sale, rather than stores themselves. One-euro bus from Grasse to Nice is The Best Thing.
I also had the pleasure of seeing a dance show in Menton a few weeks back. I went with Nice teaching assistant Jenifer Queen (and we ate at Pizzeria Vesuvio, which I mentioned a few entries back) to see this Amnesty International benefit show put together by local dance classes... who were surprisingly good. A third assistant (Jennifer Lindblom) works with Amnesty's Menton chapter, so she told us it was happening. I stage managed dance shows back in high school and always went to Vassar's, so this was a nice throwback as well.
On a separate occasion, Jenifer Queen and I also saw The Descendants and found dinner at le 22 septembre, located here in Nice. Outstanding food on a very affordable 4-course menu (we could barely finish it all). I had a warm mushroom quiche, a steak with (basically) fries, a cheese and salad course, and profiteroles for dessert. 17 euros. And it was all delicious. Plus, they had tables available with no reservation required at 10 PM. We had a great time. A big thank-you to Molly Smego for the recommendation.
Another thank-you goes to Amy, who introduced me to (the oddly named) Choopy's on the corner of Rue Vial and Rue du Marc in Antibes. You can get a full breakfast (eggs, toast, tasty preserves, hot chocolate, genu-ine bagel sandwiches, and even cupcakes) here in a cozy little cafe with a pal. Nice way to spend a Sunday morning.
My promise to you: the very next entry will bring narrative focus back.
-Andy
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Only Lyon
So... my screenplay ate my blog. For a while: I met my draft deadline on that last Friday, so now I get to play more catch-up here. Which is nice, 'cause I missed this. Just to give you an idea of how far behind I am, this entry will recount the results of a brilliant last-minute decision I made. I booked train tickets, snagged a hotel room space, and spent the weekend of December 9-11 in Lyon for the annual Fête des Lumières ("Festival of Lights"). I am so glad I didn't miss it.
Yeah. I'm that far behind.
I almost didn't go, but thanks to some last minute cancellations (both mine and another assistant's), I snagged a spot in a hotel room and joined a few assistants from the Toulon area. Toulon is the big city in the 'Var' region of France, which is right next to the 'Alpes-Maritimes' region I inhabit. Regions are somewhere in between the sizes of America's counties and states. Both A-M and the Var are grouped together in the same administrative school zone, that's called an Académie, and that sense of nervous confusion you feel in trying to keep all this straight is just a taste of what it's like when I try to figure out exactly which organization I answer to as an English teacher.
Anyway, I booked tickets and hopped on the train on Friday afternoon, and spent most of the ride grading the tests I discussed (and photographed) at length last time. I got into Lyon around 7 and walked around a few hours before meeting the others back at the station, at which time we walked around some more.
In my walking-around time, I was immediately taken with just how cool this whole thing was. I don't know what you envision when you think of a festival of lights, but the Fête des Lumières is almost more like an art festival than anything else, but with exhibits based on light, color, and sometimes music. Artists with a range of renown do the installations, which you can find on event maps all over the city - in parks, in the middle of a particular sidewalk, by the river, and projected onto the walls of important public buildings.
Here are the photos. They are probably the most important part of this entry.
The festival runs that weekend in December every year, from the Thursday to the Sunday. I'm told the first and last nights are the best, and that includes a local opinion. That probably has something to do with the four million people pouring into the city to partake, mostly coming on Friday and leaving Sunday during the day. There were two times when we all got stuck in a jostling crowd of people so thick that we were packed together and literally could not move apart from the general flow of humans surrounding us, and hardly then. I can't help but think: that's what molecules of Nutella must feel like all the time.
The festival actually began as - and technically still is - a religious celebration in honor of the Virgin Mary (which is why it said "Merci Marie" in lights on the hilltop next to St. Mary's Basilica). The festival of lights began as Lyon citizens (called "Lyonnais") lighting candles in their windows all over the city. I'm told this still happens on the Thursday, but there was a lot of buzz this year about many Lyonnais boycotting that tradition as a protest against how commercial the festival has become. I kind of get that. But at the same time, the festival as I encountered it was pretty sweet. At the very least, you're generating a lot of money for the local economy, and you're doing that via a thriving creative endeavor. That last part isn't so easy...!
While the city was far too busy for us to get a table at a "bouchon," a traditional style of Lyon restaurant, we did eventually find a good dinner at Farfalla Caffè, a stylish little Italian place without throngs of tourists (like us!). Excellent stumble-upon. If you're in Lyon, try to get to one of the bouchons, but if you find yourself in the same position we did, the address is here.
Basically, we spent the weekend walking around. Lyon's a beautiful city, both during the day and during the festival, so we had good old touristy fun. Highlights included the center of town with its quaint shops and restaurants, Saint Mary's Basilica high on top of a hill with a stellar view of the whole city, vin chaud (hot, spiced wine) in the streets at night, and general marveling. We all had a good time and I plan to visit again when the weather gets warmer.
Also, I was just teaching my littlest kids, and one of them spent a good five minutes meditating while the others colored.
-Andy
Yeah. I'm that far behind.
I almost didn't go, but thanks to some last minute cancellations (both mine and another assistant's), I snagged a spot in a hotel room and joined a few assistants from the Toulon area. Toulon is the big city in the 'Var' region of France, which is right next to the 'Alpes-Maritimes' region I inhabit. Regions are somewhere in between the sizes of America's counties and states. Both A-M and the Var are grouped together in the same administrative school zone, that's called an Académie, and that sense of nervous confusion you feel in trying to keep all this straight is just a taste of what it's like when I try to figure out exactly which organization I answer to as an English teacher.
Anyway, I booked tickets and hopped on the train on Friday afternoon, and spent most of the ride grading the tests I discussed (and photographed) at length last time. I got into Lyon around 7 and walked around a few hours before meeting the others back at the station, at which time we walked around some more.
In my walking-around time, I was immediately taken with just how cool this whole thing was. I don't know what you envision when you think of a festival of lights, but the Fête des Lumières is almost more like an art festival than anything else, but with exhibits based on light, color, and sometimes music. Artists with a range of renown do the installations, which you can find on event maps all over the city - in parks, in the middle of a particular sidewalk, by the river, and projected onto the walls of important public buildings.
Here are the photos. They are probably the most important part of this entry.
The festival runs that weekend in December every year, from the Thursday to the Sunday. I'm told the first and last nights are the best, and that includes a local opinion. That probably has something to do with the four million people pouring into the city to partake, mostly coming on Friday and leaving Sunday during the day. There were two times when we all got stuck in a jostling crowd of people so thick that we were packed together and literally could not move apart from the general flow of humans surrounding us, and hardly then. I can't help but think: that's what molecules of Nutella must feel like all the time.
The festival actually began as - and technically still is - a religious celebration in honor of the Virgin Mary (which is why it said "Merci Marie" in lights on the hilltop next to St. Mary's Basilica). The festival of lights began as Lyon citizens (called "Lyonnais") lighting candles in their windows all over the city. I'm told this still happens on the Thursday, but there was a lot of buzz this year about many Lyonnais boycotting that tradition as a protest against how commercial the festival has become. I kind of get that. But at the same time, the festival as I encountered it was pretty sweet. At the very least, you're generating a lot of money for the local economy, and you're doing that via a thriving creative endeavor. That last part isn't so easy...!
While the city was far too busy for us to get a table at a "bouchon," a traditional style of Lyon restaurant, we did eventually find a good dinner at Farfalla Caffè, a stylish little Italian place without throngs of tourists (like us!). Excellent stumble-upon. If you're in Lyon, try to get to one of the bouchons, but if you find yourself in the same position we did, the address is here.
Basically, we spent the weekend walking around. Lyon's a beautiful city, both during the day and during the festival, so we had good old touristy fun. Highlights included the center of town with its quaint shops and restaurants, Saint Mary's Basilica high on top of a hill with a stellar view of the whole city, vin chaud (hot, spiced wine) in the streets at night, and general marveling. We all had a good time and I plan to visit again when the weather gets warmer.
Also, I was just teaching my littlest kids, and one of them spent a good five minutes meditating while the others colored.
-Andy
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
"Where You Going?" "Barcelona." "Oh."
Big points to anybody can spot the title without the use of the internet. Here are the photos for this entry. And, as usual, my recommendations are in bold, with a nearby link to the location on Google Maps.
So, another week, another French holiday - and by golly, I actually had somewhere to go this time. As sort of an early birthday present to myself, I made plans to see Barcelona and meet up with my friend Alanna, who's studying in Valencia this semester. I got in on Thursday, 10 November and left on Sunday, 13 November. Alanna and I had an incredible time, whose wonder is matched only by the awful pun at the end of this (very long) entry.
Thursday
After a delayed flight, I found the hostel... Garden House Barcelona. It's affordable, well-maintained, and secure, and the staff and people are friendly. It's way up in the northern (residential) part of the city, but at least it was on a great metro line. I was going to explore downtown a bit, but I got in around 9, I was exhausted, and they were making paella right there in the garden, so I bought some (and a glass of sangria) for dinner. I befriended two French university students on vacation, and made plans with them to tour the city the next day.
Friday
My new friends had spent Thursday seeing all the big attractions, which worked out really well. I was able to tour around with them and save the must-sees for when Alanna would be there all day Saturday.
We started with the Arc de Triomf (which is pretty much what it sounds like) and a cute little nearby park. These were right next to Barri Gotic, the 'medieval quarter' full of neat shops, pretty side streets, and two fairly impressive gothic cathedrals. Somewhere in here, we stumbled upon what must have been an architecture school, which had some very cool models of very cool buildings in its very museum-like lobby.
We also found the Cultural Museum (not fully sure... we only walked around a small, free part, but it was still neat). We then spotted and scoped out a nearby market with a very cool Gaudí-esque rooftop (photo in the album). We almost got lunch there, but I remembered a friend's recommendation that we eat at a different, bigger market that wasn't too far away. So, we walked over there.
Ever make a suggestion and regret it later?
I don't mean that I regret visiting the Mercat de la Boqueria (located here). On the contrary: don't miss it. It's a huge fresh vegetable/fruit/fish/meat/candy/wine/cheese/everything market: more like a bazaar, really. I mean I regretted spending too long tracking down a friend's recommendation for lunch (a sit-down counter, I realized) when we were more in the mood to picnic. Although I did succeed in finding - of all things - a crepe stand. It's run by this very friendly guy who made very stylish crepes with Spanish ham, mushrooms, sautéed onions, and all that sort of good stuff. Not exactly a traditional Spanish dish, but definitely the best crepe I've had in Europe this time around (possibly in life as well). After lunch, the three of us found our way to the harbor.
Now's a good opportunity to mention that Barcelona is in its own unique time zone: the future. Every time some movie takes place in a futuristic utopia where sleek, classy architecture runs free with sculpture (its true love), remember that you could be in that city tomorrow if you booked a plane ticket. The harbor has all sorts of cool sculptural flair, lots of pretty sailboats, and a big building that - although a shopping mall complete with Starbucks - looks very cool. If Sony has any taste, the PlayStation 4 will look quite a bit like it.
Next set of stops involved a giant park area set into a small mountain on the south end of town. Lots of pretty trails and gardens leading up to panoramic views of the city and sea from an old fortress. We timed it perfectly: sunset. Several photos later, we meandered back down to the city itself, where I parted ways with my French pals to meet Alanna at the train station. After finding our way back to the hostel and settling in, Alanna and I tried our hand at looking in the hostel area for food. It was too suburban. Downtown we go!
...And we get lost...
But we found a Gaudí building, and eventually picked a tapas place on La Rambla, the main drag. Despite my efforts to order exotic, I wound up with basically a plate of chicken fingers in mayo sauce (although they were crispy and delicious). I also got a tapa that was crab meat wrapped in smoked salmon that was also tasty and a bit more... grown-up-y? Second round was an effort to order more chicken fingers, as well as a ham and cheese something... the word "bikini" was involved.
Because I pointed to the wrong thing, the chicken came out as a potato salad minus the potatoes, plus mushrooms, pineapple, and chicken. I... I just didn't know what to do.
And apparently "bikini" is Spanish for "grilled ham and cheese sandwich."
And Alanna convinced the come-to-your-table rose vendors that I'm allergic to roses.
Saturday
Parc Güell was on more of an incline than we realized, but that's a small price to pay for all the super-cool-super-crazy Gaudí work. Quick summary: he's a famous abstract (I say surrealist, but what do I know) architect born and raised in Barcelona. His architecture is a big draw that adds a lot of flavor to the city. You'll just have to look at the pictures. You have to visit this park: architecture, walks, and a lovely panoramic view. If you're on the clock, pick this over the fortress.
The reason you should try to spend 3-4 days in Barcelona is this: it takes a few screw-ups getting to know the place before you start getting things right. The upside is that, since I'd fumbled around the Boqueria marketplace once already (and, once again, located here), Alanna and I easily found my other friend's fabulous recommendation from the day before. El Quim de la Bouqeria is a lunch counter the size of any of any other market stand, but make no mistake: it's a fully functioning restaurant. And oh, how beautifully it doth function...
If you don't care so much about the food talk, skip to the second paragraph after the photo. But for those of you who have been awaiting detailed reports, today is your day.
Appetizers: Alanna stuck to tapas. To start, an omelette/tortilla/awesomeness, baked bean croquettes (croquettes are basically chicken nuggets, but not necessarily with the "chicken" part... evidently), and olives in a sauce (I don't recall what). All very good. Around the same time, I ordered mussels. I expected just a few (tapas style), but I got an appetizer portion of the little guys in a vegetable-rich tomato broth. I don't normally like tomato things that much, but this was so sweet and so rich in flavor that I was completely happy with it.
They gave us some bread, but to make absolutely sure I didn't waste the sauce, I put all the mussels in before eating any, put the shells on the side, and took a spoon to the whole thing: like a soup. Great decision... just like my decision to order a San Miguel beer on tap. I don't normally drink beer, but I had watched other diners enjoying tall, attractive, golden glasses of the stuff, and I said "Sure, why not?" It was cold, crisp, tasty, and not too bitter: perfect.
Main course: Alanna was waiting for her last tapas to show up: lightly fried potato wedges in a mayonnaise-based sauce. In the meantime, I was presented with this:
A leg of lamb, incredibly tender, and those potato wedges... Spain understands how to fry things. Not excessively, like you often find in the U.S. (deep-fried Oreo, anyone?), but enough to give you a crispy, crunchy outside yet still maintain a tender, potatoey inside. And that sauce you see? I could see all the little spices, it was light and nimble on the taste buds, and yet it is beyond my understanding. It was simply magic. Alanna's order of potato wedges (she made me help her with half) was pretty magical, too.
I should also point out that, because of the French holiday, there were a bunch of French tourists in Barcelona. I chatted with a few as Alanna and I waited for seats to clear out at lunch. It paid off, since the pair who was sitting and needed my help with the menu gave us their seats when they were done. I think I spoke more French with French people in Barcelona than I've spoken with French people in France in the last month combined.
After lunch, Alanna and I strolled La Rambla a bit and tried to find a free walking tour of Gaudí buildings. We didn't find the meeting place in time, but decided to focus on some souvenir shopping and then just headed straight for Sagrada Família.
I have traveled a good amount. In my travels, I have often looked for buildings of particular interest, or enjoyed and photographed the ones I found by accident. I don't know a huge amount about architecture, but I appreciate it very much in many forms and locations. It is the reason I visit cathedrals and basilicas, and why I enjoy doing so.
So, when I say that the Basilica Sagrada Família is perhaps the single most impressive building I have ever seen, I want you to understand my full meaning.
Brief history of the place: started at the end of the 19th century, the exterior of the basilica is still under construction (expected completion date is sometime in the middle of this century). The interior was only finished in 2010, and they still haven't installed all of the stained glass windows. As if this wasn't already enough fun and challenge, Gaudí died in a tram accident in 1926, before the plans were finished. So for generations now, the big architects on this job have two jobs (instead of just one) that constitute a Big Deal. One is building a basilica in a major European city. The other is doing so by interpreting sparse materials in order to be faithful to the largely unknown vision of a brilliant and thoroughly weird artist who left no conclusive instructions.
And I actually like that the construction is going to take until at least the 2050s-- after all, Notre Dame took about 200 years to build. If you're building something this big and in any kind of Gothic style, you need the appropriate level of detail and painstaking engineering. In short, buildings on this scale are supposed to take this long.
Antoni Gaudí: brilliant surrealist architect, bouncer.
So, we made it away from crazy basilica land and found ourselves at the Magic Fountain. No, seriously-- that's actually what it's called. It's a big fountain near the park with the fortress where they do a big, flashy, colorful light show a few times every evening, first show at 7. It was cool, I guess... Alanna and I only watched for fifteen minutes because you kind of get the idea by that point. Basically, imagine if Disney directed the fountain scene at the end of Ocean's 11.
More food talk coming up, so feel free to skip ahead a bit. We got dinner at La Pepita, a little bistro just off the roundabout at Diagonal metro (or, more specifically, here). The metro is called that because the streets are a grid around there and the big avenue cutting through - Diagonal - goes on a diagonal to the grid. Personally, I find simplicity and brilliance often go hand-in-hand for things like this.
The restaurant is essentially everything I love about New York (except theater). That doesn't leave much, but what it does leave amounts to a particular experience I particularly love. La Pepita is a bistro sixteen feet wide and very long: cozy, classy, and smartly minimalist in a way that is chic, but not obnoxious. Its one flourish (apart from the food) is the panoramic mirror behind the bar with the daily menu and drink specials written all across it in pretty Spanish cursive in off-white paint. You can walk in with a friend and without a reservation, sit by a window to watch passersby, and eat a stylishly prepared meal -- all at 11:30 PM, and all just off the beaten path of a gloriously cosmopolitan city.
I ordered the appetizer for us to share: Grilled Cazon (it's fish) roquettes with lime mayonnaise sauce on fresh lettuce. Quite good. Main course was better. The "pepita," best I can tell, is basically an open-faced grilled flatbread sandwich with any possible combination of ingredients. Alanna's was a grilled salmon salad with some heart-breaking-ly good salmon. Mine was a heart-attacking-ly good combination of a fried egg, tender grilled beef, potato wedges, and a slice of foie gras. It is everything my own touted "Breakfast of Champions" has ever wanted to be. So, despite my delicious glass of Spanish red wine (Ceres Ribera del Duero 2009), I likely have a coronary on the way. But at least then I can say I literally gave my heart to Barcelona.
Also, it was called "The Golden Pepita." How could you possibly not order something called "The Golden Pepita"?
We then met up with Alanna's college pal studying in Barcelona, code name: "Cousin"... it's a rugby thing... While trying to find her, Alanna and I actually walked through Barcelona's 'Occupy Wall Street' franchise. I thought that was cool; not only is it history and all that, but as an American in Europe, it's generally much more difficult for me to get my 99% on.
Speaking of the economy - and I can't believe that this is a coherent transition - Cousin took us to a really cool bar for relaxed drinks. My final recommendation this entry is Dow Jones, located near La Pepita. This is a laid-back expat bar with a premise that is both ingenious and brilliantly executed. Instead of a drinks menu above the bar, there's a big Wall Street-style stock ticker in the back of the room with drink names and prices: "San Miguel, 3E20 (+2,47%)"... "Mojito, 6E40 (+16,4%)"... etc., and when the cycle finishes, all the prices go up or down in response to what people are ordering. And every once in a while, flashing alarm lights will go off when the market 'crashes' and all the prices briefly drop 20%. It was just the right amount of crowded to feel happening and not overwhelming, and a three-person table was magically open as soon as we walked in.
It was pricey, but I was in Spain, so I ordered a mojito. It was delicious.
Sunday
It's quickly becoming a tradition that I get churros early on my last morning of a trip to Spain. No real point in recommending the place, seeing as how churros are churros are awesome are churros.
After snacking on those, Alanna and I found a cafe where we could sit on La Rambla and enjoy having the city to ourselves in the early morning for an hour or so. We said goodbye on the metro.
After accidentally getting on the wrong commuter train, I made it to the airport (which, by the way, is pristine and beautiful). There had been a 30% chance of rain on Saturday, but drops didn't fall until I was seated on my flight back to Nice. I was sad that I had to leave.
I was glad, however, that the rain in Spain fell mainly when I was on the plane.
-Andy
So, another week, another French holiday - and by golly, I actually had somewhere to go this time. As sort of an early birthday present to myself, I made plans to see Barcelona and meet up with my friend Alanna, who's studying in Valencia this semester. I got in on Thursday, 10 November and left on Sunday, 13 November. Alanna and I had an incredible time, whose wonder is matched only by the awful pun at the end of this (very long) entry.
Thursday
After a delayed flight, I found the hostel... Garden House Barcelona. It's affordable, well-maintained, and secure, and the staff and people are friendly. It's way up in the northern (residential) part of the city, but at least it was on a great metro line. I was going to explore downtown a bit, but I got in around 9, I was exhausted, and they were making paella right there in the garden, so I bought some (and a glass of sangria) for dinner. I befriended two French university students on vacation, and made plans with them to tour the city the next day.
Friday
My new friends had spent Thursday seeing all the big attractions, which worked out really well. I was able to tour around with them and save the must-sees for when Alanna would be there all day Saturday.
We started with the Arc de Triomf (which is pretty much what it sounds like) and a cute little nearby park. These were right next to Barri Gotic, the 'medieval quarter' full of neat shops, pretty side streets, and two fairly impressive gothic cathedrals. Somewhere in here, we stumbled upon what must have been an architecture school, which had some very cool models of very cool buildings in its very museum-like lobby.
We also found the Cultural Museum (not fully sure... we only walked around a small, free part, but it was still neat). We then spotted and scoped out a nearby market with a very cool Gaudí-esque rooftop (photo in the album). We almost got lunch there, but I remembered a friend's recommendation that we eat at a different, bigger market that wasn't too far away. So, we walked over there.
Ever make a suggestion and regret it later?
I don't mean that I regret visiting the Mercat de la Boqueria (located here). On the contrary: don't miss it. It's a huge fresh vegetable/fruit/fish/meat/candy/wine/cheese/everything market: more like a bazaar, really. I mean I regretted spending too long tracking down a friend's recommendation for lunch (a sit-down counter, I realized) when we were more in the mood to picnic. Although I did succeed in finding - of all things - a crepe stand. It's run by this very friendly guy who made very stylish crepes with Spanish ham, mushrooms, sautéed onions, and all that sort of good stuff. Not exactly a traditional Spanish dish, but definitely the best crepe I've had in Europe this time around (possibly in life as well). After lunch, the three of us found our way to the harbor.
Now's a good opportunity to mention that Barcelona is in its own unique time zone: the future. Every time some movie takes place in a futuristic utopia where sleek, classy architecture runs free with sculpture (its true love), remember that you could be in that city tomorrow if you booked a plane ticket. The harbor has all sorts of cool sculptural flair, lots of pretty sailboats, and a big building that - although a shopping mall complete with Starbucks - looks very cool. If Sony has any taste, the PlayStation 4 will look quite a bit like it.
Next set of stops involved a giant park area set into a small mountain on the south end of town. Lots of pretty trails and gardens leading up to panoramic views of the city and sea from an old fortress. We timed it perfectly: sunset. Several photos later, we meandered back down to the city itself, where I parted ways with my French pals to meet Alanna at the train station. After finding our way back to the hostel and settling in, Alanna and I tried our hand at looking in the hostel area for food. It was too suburban. Downtown we go!
...And we get lost...
But we found a Gaudí building, and eventually picked a tapas place on La Rambla, the main drag. Despite my efforts to order exotic, I wound up with basically a plate of chicken fingers in mayo sauce (although they were crispy and delicious). I also got a tapa that was crab meat wrapped in smoked salmon that was also tasty and a bit more... grown-up-y? Second round was an effort to order more chicken fingers, as well as a ham and cheese something... the word "bikini" was involved.
Because I pointed to the wrong thing, the chicken came out as a potato salad minus the potatoes, plus mushrooms, pineapple, and chicken. I... I just didn't know what to do.
And apparently "bikini" is Spanish for "grilled ham and cheese sandwich."
And Alanna convinced the come-to-your-table rose vendors that I'm allergic to roses.
Saturday
Parc Güell was on more of an incline than we realized, but that's a small price to pay for all the super-cool-super-crazy Gaudí work. Quick summary: he's a famous abstract (I say surrealist, but what do I know) architect born and raised in Barcelona. His architecture is a big draw that adds a lot of flavor to the city. You'll just have to look at the pictures. You have to visit this park: architecture, walks, and a lovely panoramic view. If you're on the clock, pick this over the fortress.
The reason you should try to spend 3-4 days in Barcelona is this: it takes a few screw-ups getting to know the place before you start getting things right. The upside is that, since I'd fumbled around the Boqueria marketplace once already (and, once again, located here), Alanna and I easily found my other friend's fabulous recommendation from the day before. El Quim de la Bouqeria is a lunch counter the size of any of any other market stand, but make no mistake: it's a fully functioning restaurant. And oh, how beautifully it doth function...
If you don't care so much about the food talk, skip to the second paragraph after the photo. But for those of you who have been awaiting detailed reports, today is your day.
Appetizers: Alanna stuck to tapas. To start, an omelette/tortilla/awesomeness, baked bean croquettes (croquettes are basically chicken nuggets, but not necessarily with the "chicken" part... evidently), and olives in a sauce (I don't recall what). All very good. Around the same time, I ordered mussels. I expected just a few (tapas style), but I got an appetizer portion of the little guys in a vegetable-rich tomato broth. I don't normally like tomato things that much, but this was so sweet and so rich in flavor that I was completely happy with it.
They gave us some bread, but to make absolutely sure I didn't waste the sauce, I put all the mussels in before eating any, put the shells on the side, and took a spoon to the whole thing: like a soup. Great decision... just like my decision to order a San Miguel beer on tap. I don't normally drink beer, but I had watched other diners enjoying tall, attractive, golden glasses of the stuff, and I said "Sure, why not?" It was cold, crisp, tasty, and not too bitter: perfect.
Main course: Alanna was waiting for her last tapas to show up: lightly fried potato wedges in a mayonnaise-based sauce. In the meantime, I was presented with this:
A leg of lamb, incredibly tender, and those potato wedges... Spain understands how to fry things. Not excessively, like you often find in the U.S. (deep-fried Oreo, anyone?), but enough to give you a crispy, crunchy outside yet still maintain a tender, potatoey inside. And that sauce you see? I could see all the little spices, it was light and nimble on the taste buds, and yet it is beyond my understanding. It was simply magic. Alanna's order of potato wedges (she made me help her with half) was pretty magical, too.
I should also point out that, because of the French holiday, there were a bunch of French tourists in Barcelona. I chatted with a few as Alanna and I waited for seats to clear out at lunch. It paid off, since the pair who was sitting and needed my help with the menu gave us their seats when they were done. I think I spoke more French with French people in Barcelona than I've spoken with French people in France in the last month combined.
After lunch, Alanna and I strolled La Rambla a bit and tried to find a free walking tour of Gaudí buildings. We didn't find the meeting place in time, but decided to focus on some souvenir shopping and then just headed straight for Sagrada Família.
I have traveled a good amount. In my travels, I have often looked for buildings of particular interest, or enjoyed and photographed the ones I found by accident. I don't know a huge amount about architecture, but I appreciate it very much in many forms and locations. It is the reason I visit cathedrals and basilicas, and why I enjoy doing so.
So, when I say that the Basilica Sagrada Família is perhaps the single most impressive building I have ever seen, I want you to understand my full meaning.
Brief history of the place: started at the end of the 19th century, the exterior of the basilica is still under construction (expected completion date is sometime in the middle of this century). The interior was only finished in 2010, and they still haven't installed all of the stained glass windows. As if this wasn't already enough fun and challenge, Gaudí died in a tram accident in 1926, before the plans were finished. So for generations now, the big architects on this job have two jobs (instead of just one) that constitute a Big Deal. One is building a basilica in a major European city. The other is doing so by interpreting sparse materials in order to be faithful to the largely unknown vision of a brilliant and thoroughly weird artist who left no conclusive instructions.
And I actually like that the construction is going to take until at least the 2050s-- after all, Notre Dame took about 200 years to build. If you're building something this big and in any kind of Gothic style, you need the appropriate level of detail and painstaking engineering. In short, buildings on this scale are supposed to take this long.
So, we made it away from crazy basilica land and found ourselves at the Magic Fountain. No, seriously-- that's actually what it's called. It's a big fountain near the park with the fortress where they do a big, flashy, colorful light show a few times every evening, first show at 7. It was cool, I guess... Alanna and I only watched for fifteen minutes because you kind of get the idea by that point. Basically, imagine if Disney directed the fountain scene at the end of Ocean's 11.
More food talk coming up, so feel free to skip ahead a bit. We got dinner at La Pepita, a little bistro just off the roundabout at Diagonal metro (or, more specifically, here). The metro is called that because the streets are a grid around there and the big avenue cutting through - Diagonal - goes on a diagonal to the grid. Personally, I find simplicity and brilliance often go hand-in-hand for things like this.
The restaurant is essentially everything I love about New York (except theater). That doesn't leave much, but what it does leave amounts to a particular experience I particularly love. La Pepita is a bistro sixteen feet wide and very long: cozy, classy, and smartly minimalist in a way that is chic, but not obnoxious. Its one flourish (apart from the food) is the panoramic mirror behind the bar with the daily menu and drink specials written all across it in pretty Spanish cursive in off-white paint. You can walk in with a friend and without a reservation, sit by a window to watch passersby, and eat a stylishly prepared meal -- all at 11:30 PM, and all just off the beaten path of a gloriously cosmopolitan city.
I ordered the appetizer for us to share: Grilled Cazon (it's fish) roquettes with lime mayonnaise sauce on fresh lettuce. Quite good. Main course was better. The "pepita," best I can tell, is basically an open-faced grilled flatbread sandwich with any possible combination of ingredients. Alanna's was a grilled salmon salad with some heart-breaking-ly good salmon. Mine was a heart-attacking-ly good combination of a fried egg, tender grilled beef, potato wedges, and a slice of foie gras. It is everything my own touted "Breakfast of Champions" has ever wanted to be. So, despite my delicious glass of Spanish red wine (Ceres Ribera del Duero 2009), I likely have a coronary on the way. But at least then I can say I literally gave my heart to Barcelona.
Also, it was called "The Golden Pepita." How could you possibly not order something called "The Golden Pepita"?
We then met up with Alanna's college pal studying in Barcelona, code name: "Cousin"... it's a rugby thing... While trying to find her, Alanna and I actually walked through Barcelona's 'Occupy Wall Street' franchise. I thought that was cool; not only is it history and all that, but as an American in Europe, it's generally much more difficult for me to get my 99% on.
Speaking of the economy - and I can't believe that this is a coherent transition - Cousin took us to a really cool bar for relaxed drinks. My final recommendation this entry is Dow Jones, located near La Pepita. This is a laid-back expat bar with a premise that is both ingenious and brilliantly executed. Instead of a drinks menu above the bar, there's a big Wall Street-style stock ticker in the back of the room with drink names and prices: "San Miguel, 3E20 (+2,47%)"... "Mojito, 6E40 (+16,4%)"... etc., and when the cycle finishes, all the prices go up or down in response to what people are ordering. And every once in a while, flashing alarm lights will go off when the market 'crashes' and all the prices briefly drop 20%. It was just the right amount of crowded to feel happening and not overwhelming, and a three-person table was magically open as soon as we walked in.
It was pricey, but I was in Spain, so I ordered a mojito. It was delicious.
Sunday
It's quickly becoming a tradition that I get churros early on my last morning of a trip to Spain. No real point in recommending the place, seeing as how churros are churros are awesome are churros.
After snacking on those, Alanna and I found a cafe where we could sit on La Rambla and enjoy having the city to ourselves in the early morning for an hour or so. We said goodbye on the metro.
After accidentally getting on the wrong commuter train, I made it to the airport (which, by the way, is pristine and beautiful). There had been a 30% chance of rain on Saturday, but drops didn't fall until I was seated on my flight back to Nice. I was sad that I had to leave.
I was glad, however, that the rain in Spain fell mainly when I was on the plane.
-Andy
Sunday, October 30, 2011
StayCation
So, here I sit on my balcony. It's October 30, 68 degrees, sunny, and clear. Erika and I made mimosas with French champagne. I don't go back to work until Thursday afternoon, I'm making plans to go to Barcelona in two weeks, I had several awesome day trips this week, there's internet in the apartment...
This is pretty much what I signed up for.
I spent this week exploring the region with pals in a series of day trips. This is cool for two reasons. One: I'm in a beautiful region of a beautiful country with nothing but time to explore it. Two: I actually got my act together and explored it, as opposed to not doing so, but saying I would as an empty justification for not having made fancier travel plans.
Here is the photo album for this week.
Monday, 24 October 2011
Erika and I got up really early to catch a bus to Nice and a connecting bus up to Saint-Etienne-de-Tinée. This was our route. We spent about half the day on a bus. But that's okay! Because the two hour ride from Nice to St-Etienne followed the Tinée river through an incredible valley that was stunning for every minute, even despite cloudy/drizzling weather.
We arrived around 11:30, walked a bit in the drizzle, and saw about 75% of this small ski resort town. It's adorable, and I'm certain that the mountain views are stunning on a clear (or snowy) day. We got lunch at pretty much the only restaurant that was open. I had a mushroom ravioli in this sauce that I could not figure out how to describe. It was good, but I was fighting a cold and probably wasn't tasting it properly. The cream sauce had this almost-bitter, dry kick to it that Erika decided was "astringent." I had never heard that word used for anything other than skin care products, but she volunteered the word, and I decided in a later conversation that it probably came from the wine used to make the sauce. We agreed, and we walked some more.
We explored a few trails, couldn't get into the tourist office for Erika's much-desired regional hiking maps, hiked some more, and finally found a cozy little cafe. We ordered coffee and hot chocolate, respectively, and Erika taught me Gin Rummy, which we played for an hour while waiting for the 4:15 bus back to Nice.
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
Wednesday, 26 October 2011
I didn't do much on the 26th, either.
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Today, I went over to Menton (geographic context), a charming little town right up next to the Italian border. I met up with Krisia, a fellow assistant placed in Cannes, and two assistants from up north for whom this region is a set of fancy travel plans. We had a three-hour lunch of pizza on the seaside while watching hilarious pigeon antics and wondering why the servers were willing to let us spend so much time taking up this great table on this beautiful day.
I had a thin-crust pizza with cheese, lettuce, parsley, and smoked salmon. It was very good. I could only finish half of it, though.
Afterward, we walked around, the ladies did some shopping,* and we got some gelato. There's basically one busy commercial street in Menton, and it has a few gelato stands, but I figured we should pick the one run by an Italian woman. I was right. One scoop of sweet, tart lemon and one of juicy strawberry for the win (it's my standby for a reason, and it was only 2euro50). We walked some more, snapped lots of pictures, and caught the train home.
The only thing I can't figure out: why does the limoncello flavor taste creamier than the lemon flavor?
Friday, 28 October 2011
Today's destination: St-Paul-de-Vence (everybody loves a link to Google Maps). 7 of us found our way to this very picturesque little town. I couldn't quite get a far shot, but it's a walled city on a hill, not unlike the famous Mont-Saint-Michel up in Normandy. This town is almost totally composed of cobblestone pedestrian paths and really cool shops.
...
...
...Sorry. I just praised a town for its shopping. I needed a minute to take that in.
A lot of artists have studios here, and there are lots of neat little gift shops, as well as little bistros and boutiques for food/wine/etc. All of this for sale in a bunch of charming, artsy shops. All very… not “down-to-earth,” because they are all rather upscale, but IF any of them were condescending (and I don’t think they were), then their classy factor easily overwhelmed it.
I had a pâté sandwich for lunch. It was awesome.
The Weekend
We finally got internet in the apartment (no thanks to SFR). So, U.S. folks, I am much freer to Skype/email/what-have-you.
Also, between now (Sunday) and November 6, our time difference is reduced by one hour (France ended daylight savings today, instead of next week). I hope everyone had a great Halloween weekend, and for those still celebrating (as you should be), Happy Halloween.
Pictures of my awesome (and rather appropriate) costume to follow.
-Andy
------------------------
*General Note: The gender ratio among assistants means that I am the only guy I hang out with.
This is pretty much what I signed up for.
I spent this week exploring the region with pals in a series of day trips. This is cool for two reasons. One: I'm in a beautiful region of a beautiful country with nothing but time to explore it. Two: I actually got my act together and explored it, as opposed to not doing so, but saying I would as an empty justification for not having made fancier travel plans.
Here is the photo album for this week.
Monday, 24 October 2011
Erika and I got up really early to catch a bus to Nice and a connecting bus up to Saint-Etienne-de-Tinée. This was our route. We spent about half the day on a bus. But that's okay! Because the two hour ride from Nice to St-Etienne followed the Tinée river through an incredible valley that was stunning for every minute, even despite cloudy/drizzling weather.
We arrived around 11:30, walked a bit in the drizzle, and saw about 75% of this small ski resort town. It's adorable, and I'm certain that the mountain views are stunning on a clear (or snowy) day. We got lunch at pretty much the only restaurant that was open. I had a mushroom ravioli in this sauce that I could not figure out how to describe. It was good, but I was fighting a cold and probably wasn't tasting it properly. The cream sauce had this almost-bitter, dry kick to it that Erika decided was "astringent." I had never heard that word used for anything other than skin care products, but she volunteered the word, and I decided in a later conversation that it probably came from the wine used to make the sauce. We agreed, and we walked some more.
We explored a few trails, couldn't get into the tourist office for Erika's much-desired regional hiking maps, hiked some more, and finally found a cozy little cafe. We ordered coffee and hot chocolate, respectively, and Erika taught me Gin Rummy, which we played for an hour while waiting for the 4:15 bus back to Nice.
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
Wednesday, 26 October 2011
I didn't do much on the 26th, either.
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Today, I went over to Menton (geographic context), a charming little town right up next to the Italian border. I met up with Krisia, a fellow assistant placed in Cannes, and two assistants from up north for whom this region is a set of fancy travel plans. We had a three-hour lunch of pizza on the seaside while watching hilarious pigeon antics and wondering why the servers were willing to let us spend so much time taking up this great table on this beautiful day.
I had a thin-crust pizza with cheese, lettuce, parsley, and smoked salmon. It was very good. I could only finish half of it, though.
Afterward, we walked around, the ladies did some shopping,* and we got some gelato. There's basically one busy commercial street in Menton, and it has a few gelato stands, but I figured we should pick the one run by an Italian woman. I was right. One scoop of sweet, tart lemon and one of juicy strawberry for the win (it's my standby for a reason, and it was only 2euro50). We walked some more, snapped lots of pictures, and caught the train home.
The only thing I can't figure out: why does the limoncello flavor taste creamier than the lemon flavor?
Friday, 28 October 2011
Today's destination: St-Paul-de-Vence (everybody loves a link to Google Maps). 7 of us found our way to this very picturesque little town. I couldn't quite get a far shot, but it's a walled city on a hill, not unlike the famous Mont-Saint-Michel up in Normandy. This town is almost totally composed of cobblestone pedestrian paths and really cool shops.
...
...
...Sorry. I just praised a town for its shopping. I needed a minute to take that in.
A lot of artists have studios here, and there are lots of neat little gift shops, as well as little bistros and boutiques for food/wine/etc. All of this for sale in a bunch of charming, artsy shops. All very… not “down-to-earth,” because they are all rather upscale, but IF any of them were condescending (and I don’t think they were), then their classy factor easily overwhelmed it.
I had a pâté sandwich for lunch. It was awesome.
The Weekend
We finally got internet in the apartment (no thanks to SFR). So, U.S. folks, I am much freer to Skype/email/what-have-you.
Also, between now (Sunday) and November 6, our time difference is reduced by one hour (France ended daylight savings today, instead of next week). I hope everyone had a great Halloween weekend, and for those still celebrating (as you should be), Happy Halloween.
Pictures of my awesome (and rather appropriate) costume to follow.
-Andy
------------------------
*General Note: The gender ratio among assistants means that I am the only guy I hang out with.
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