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 Recommendation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Recommendation. 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
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Coup de Grasse
It's over.
My last day of teaching was April 20th. I'm sorry that my entries have been rather few and far between recently, but I'm not sorry for all the day trips, dinners, vacations, lesson plans (had to mention those somewhere in here), and screenwriting sessions I've been too busy enjoying to write down. Here are links to a few photo albums, to help fill the gaps:
Krakow (My last spring break stop after Budapest, which was very un-cosmopolitan, very historic, and thus very cool. Also, incredibly reasonably priced and full of more good, hearty, meat-and-potatoes kind of food. Also, though you won't find the pictures in the album, I visited Auschwitz.)
Tende (A small town near the French/Italian border (check it out) reached by the aptly named Train des Merveilles ('Train of Marvels'). Erika and I did a day trip up here and found some terrific hikes, cool winding walkways in town, and a terrific lunch at the lovely husband-and-wife restaurant Le Gourmand.)
I also spent a whirlwind week showing my buddy David Adler around Paris and the Riviera. And I just got back from 4 days in Bologna, Italia, where I got to spend time with the wonderful Giulia Petruzzelli.
I would be lying if I said that the end of my teaching wasn't emotional, and I'd be a liar-liar-pants-on-fire (I wonder how you say that in French...) if I didn't mention the outpouring of affection I got from the kids and my fellow teachers. But first, a few general sound bytes to shamelessly build suspense.
Andy: "Do you like pizza?"
Kid: "I love you, pizza!"
Andy: "How are you?"
Other Kid: "I am hot and happy!"
I worked at three schools, and two of them gave me wonderful sendoffs... The first gave me a huge box of local specialty food products (first photo in this oddball album) and came pouring into one of the classes I was teaching to throw me a going-away party with Orangina, cookies, candy (including chocolates from favorite chain Jeff de Bruges), and a lot of adorable, tearful young children.
The other school finished off my unit on food in the best way possible. American breakfast for my three classes. And there were t-shirts. I can't describe them, and a photo won't do them justice. Ask me in person sometime, and if I can, I'll show you.
It was wonderful. Nice to know I'll be missed and that I did okay at the job that had be quaking in my sneakers last September. I'll take that as an exit from Grasse.
Oh, that's right... the teaching is over, but the blog is not. A few other things.
I'm living in Cannes now (for the month) because my folks are coming over to Europe at the end of May to do some quality traveling (there's a cruise... and fjords).
But until then, I'm just looking forward to attending the Cannes Film Festival. I was awarded a pass to attend screenings at a few of the theatres (not the big ones, since I'm not a professional, although word is you can beg tickets off people if you look good and they have extras). I'm pretty pumped about it... I get free access to lots of (hopefully great) movies and I'll be surrounded by film industry. Sweet. It runs from May 16-27.
I'll try to blog a bit about Cannes if I can (pun!), but I predict those days will be a bit hectic, and I'm not sure what internet will be like on the boat. So, for reference, I'm in Cannes until May 29, traveling until June 15th, and chilling in DC for two whole days before starting work at the 'Center for Talented Youth' at Johns Hopkins on June 18 (through August 7). No idea if they're gonna' renew my contract for next year, and -- hooray for France -- they're almost certainly not gonna' tell me before July. I'm not too worried, though.
I'm too busy thinking about movies.
-Andy
My last day of teaching was April 20th. I'm sorry that my entries have been rather few and far between recently, but I'm not sorry for all the day trips, dinners, vacations, lesson plans (had to mention those somewhere in here), and screenwriting sessions I've been too busy enjoying to write down. Here are links to a few photo albums, to help fill the gaps:
Krakow (My last spring break stop after Budapest, which was very un-cosmopolitan, very historic, and thus very cool. Also, incredibly reasonably priced and full of more good, hearty, meat-and-potatoes kind of food. Also, though you won't find the pictures in the album, I visited Auschwitz.)
Tende (A small town near the French/Italian border (check it out) reached by the aptly named Train des Merveilles ('Train of Marvels'). Erika and I did a day trip up here and found some terrific hikes, cool winding walkways in town, and a terrific lunch at the lovely husband-and-wife restaurant Le Gourmand.)
I also spent a whirlwind week showing my buddy David Adler around Paris and the Riviera. And I just got back from 4 days in Bologna, Italia, where I got to spend time with the wonderful Giulia Petruzzelli.
I would be lying if I said that the end of my teaching wasn't emotional, and I'd be a liar-liar-pants-on-fire (I wonder how you say that in French...) if I didn't mention the outpouring of affection I got from the kids and my fellow teachers. But first, a few general sound bytes to shamelessly build suspense.
Andy: "Do you like pizza?"
Kid: "I love you, pizza!"
Andy: "How are you?"
Other Kid: "I am hot and happy!"
I worked at three schools, and two of them gave me wonderful sendoffs... The first gave me a huge box of local specialty food products (first photo in this oddball album) and came pouring into one of the classes I was teaching to throw me a going-away party with Orangina, cookies, candy (including chocolates from favorite chain Jeff de Bruges), and a lot of adorable, tearful young children.
The other school finished off my unit on food in the best way possible. American breakfast for my three classes. And there were t-shirts. I can't describe them, and a photo won't do them justice. Ask me in person sometime, and if I can, I'll show you.
It was wonderful. Nice to know I'll be missed and that I did okay at the job that had be quaking in my sneakers last September. I'll take that as an exit from Grasse.
Oh, that's right... the teaching is over, but the blog is not. A few other things.
I'm living in Cannes now (for the month) because my folks are coming over to Europe at the end of May to do some quality traveling (there's a cruise... and fjords).
But until then, I'm just looking forward to attending the Cannes Film Festival. I was awarded a pass to attend screenings at a few of the theatres (not the big ones, since I'm not a professional, although word is you can beg tickets off people if you look good and they have extras). I'm pretty pumped about it... I get free access to lots of (hopefully great) movies and I'll be surrounded by film industry. Sweet. It runs from May 16-27.
I'll try to blog a bit about Cannes if I can (pun!), but I predict those days will be a bit hectic, and I'm not sure what internet will be like on the boat. So, for reference, I'm in Cannes until May 29, traveling until June 15th, and chilling in DC for two whole days before starting work at the 'Center for Talented Youth' at Johns Hopkins on June 18 (through August 7). No idea if they're gonna' renew my contract for next year, and -- hooray for France -- they're almost certainly not gonna' tell me before July. I'm not too worried, though.
I'm too busy thinking about movies.
-Andy
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
It'sh Pronounched "Budapesht."
I have to be honest, the travel entries aren't my favorites. I love doing the "research" necessary to create them - touring Budapest with Lisa, Molly, Katie, and Ann was lots of fun - but as I said last time, the plot feels a bit thin on these and the pictures tell it best.
So, here are the pictures. And here are a few quick thoughts.
The entry title: In Hungarian, "s" defaults to what English speakers would call the "sh" sound. You need an "sz" to get what English calls the original recipe "s" sound. So, I walked around this city hearing a good deal of words spoken in the voice of a former teacher who used to jokingly swap in "sh" for "s." That was very weird.
Architecturally, Budapest is awesome. All I ever really do in cities I visit is walk around, eat good food if I can find it, and snap photos of cool buildings (and shit that makes no sense... usually in advertisements). Budapest has some very impressive churches and government buildings, but even normal office buildings, banks, apartments, etc. have really cool flourishes. You never know what you'll find next, which is always a fun feeling to have when you tour a city.
I have discovered some karmic balance, I'm relieved to say, in the world of currency exchange. Yes, the Dollar's had a significant disadvantage against the Euro for over two years, and that's not even mentioning the Pound. So, you learn to stop thinking about how many U.S. Dollars you're spending when you buy basic goods and services in Europe, 'cause otherwise you go insane. Until you arrive in Hungary, home of the Hungarian Forint. Coming from the Euro, I can say that it is uniquely satisfying to take a list price in Forints, divide it by about 300, and THEN decide if you want to pay it. And even coming from the Dollar, dividing by 220(ish) is still a lot of fun.
Recommendations include:
--The cafe at the flagship Alexandra bookstore chain (information and location here). It's an impressive bookstore, a breathtaking cafe, and their cake, coffee, etc. are all quite good.
--The Szechenyi baths are a must-do... quite the unique experience, reasonable price of admittance for basic baths/steamroom/sauna/showers access on their extensive, beautiful grounds. Located here.
--The Szimpla ruin bar (here) is a great nightlife spot.
--Centrale Cafe is a very classy old cafe with high ceilings and more good cake. I'm pretty sure this is the address.
--Művész Restaurant and Café (here) had great goulash, a newly renovated room, and taste-bud-opening (that's gonna' be a thing from now on) desserts.
--The Central Market (here) is pretty good for souvenir shopping and good old market-y experiences.
...I also went to the opera while I was there. It was gorgeous, and I had never seen Tosca. It was a good production with great sets and performers. Of course, I probably should have thought more carefully before buying a ticket to an Italian opera with Hungarian subtitles, but hey - the program had an English summary, so it all worked out.
Next stop on this blogging marathon: Krakow.
So, here are the pictures. And here are a few quick thoughts.
The entry title: In Hungarian, "s" defaults to what English speakers would call the "sh" sound. You need an "sz" to get what English calls the original recipe "s" sound. So, I walked around this city hearing a good deal of words spoken in the voice of a former teacher who used to jokingly swap in "sh" for "s." That was very weird.
Architecturally, Budapest is awesome. All I ever really do in cities I visit is walk around, eat good food if I can find it, and snap photos of cool buildings (and shit that makes no sense... usually in advertisements). Budapest has some very impressive churches and government buildings, but even normal office buildings, banks, apartments, etc. have really cool flourishes. You never know what you'll find next, which is always a fun feeling to have when you tour a city.
I have discovered some karmic balance, I'm relieved to say, in the world of currency exchange. Yes, the Dollar's had a significant disadvantage against the Euro for over two years, and that's not even mentioning the Pound. So, you learn to stop thinking about how many U.S. Dollars you're spending when you buy basic goods and services in Europe, 'cause otherwise you go insane. Until you arrive in Hungary, home of the Hungarian Forint. Coming from the Euro, I can say that it is uniquely satisfying to take a list price in Forints, divide it by about 300, and THEN decide if you want to pay it. And even coming from the Dollar, dividing by 220(ish) is still a lot of fun.
Recommendations include:
--The cafe at the flagship Alexandra bookstore chain (information and location here). It's an impressive bookstore, a breathtaking cafe, and their cake, coffee, etc. are all quite good.
--The Szechenyi baths are a must-do... quite the unique experience, reasonable price of admittance for basic baths/steamroom/sauna/showers access on their extensive, beautiful grounds. Located here.
--The Szimpla ruin bar (here) is a great nightlife spot.
--Centrale Cafe is a very classy old cafe with high ceilings and more good cake. I'm pretty sure this is the address.
--Művész Restaurant and Café (here) had great goulash, a newly renovated room, and taste-bud-opening (that's gonna' be a thing from now on) desserts.
--The Central Market (here) is pretty good for souvenir shopping and good old market-y experiences.
...I also went to the opera while I was there. It was gorgeous, and I had never seen Tosca. It was a good production with great sets and performers. Of course, I probably should have thought more carefully before buying a ticket to an Italian opera with Hungarian subtitles, but hey - the program had an English summary, so it all worked out.
Next stop on this blogging marathon: Krakow.
Tour de Franzia
Big bonus points to anyone who spotted the title reference immediately. BIG bonus points.
I'm combining my visits to Lyon and Paris into a single entry, since I've visited both before, and the photos will probably make more statements more effectively than my writing. This is because - and I'm starting to notice it as a trend for my travel entries - the plot is a little thin.
So, here are the photos for Lyon.
And here are the ones for Paris.
Lyon was right between Grenoble and Paris and I'd be damned if I was going to miss out on traditional Lyonnaise food twice. So, the big draw for this visit was Le Musée, located here. As if the #1 rating on TripAdvisor (my go-to for eating when I travel... get your recommendations from them instead of me, and it's basically the same thing) wasn't enough to distinguish it, this restaurant is what they call an official "bouchon."
I mentioned these last time, but a little history lesson is appropriate (now that I actually know the history). In the Great Depression, a lot of (formerly) really rich households in Lyon had to fire their chefs. But, highly skilled cooks being what they are, they didn't have much trouble finding a new market: the public. So, they started up lots of restaurants - "bouchons" - serving good, hot food and just kept doing it. They're very NOT haute-cuisine, but more about a friendly, communal atmosphere. The food focuses on various... let's say "inventive" cuts of meat, so this is not the place to order "just a salad, thanks."
While Lyon is filled with places that advertise themselves as true bouchons, it's generally only the style and atmosphere they mimic, rather than the quality or price. There's a committee dedicated to going around every year and awarding certain restaurants (just under 20, usually) the title of "vrai bouchon Lyonnais" ("true Lyonnaise bouchon"). Which finally brings us back to Le Musée, where we couldn't get a table back in December, but for which I had a reservation this time.
Here's the restaurant. Very cozy.
First up: a piece of brioche bread with a piece of sausage baked in. It was made with love. Literally: I think they have a jar of the stuff, and they sprinkle a little bit on all of the meat they prepare, it tasted that good.
Main course: pig cheeks with potatoes gratin and a vegetable I've had before, can't remember the name of, and don't really like that much. Pig cheeks were delicious, and apparently are the leanest cut of pig you can get.
Finally, crème brulée:
...
Paris was surreal, as perhaps I already expressed here two years ago. I had a lovely visit this time: seeing good friends, eating good food, strolling, and getting my bearings again.
I also saw Chronicle, which was amazing. A really strong, original story with characters that were so close to real that I had to reassure myself I was walking out of a work of fiction at the end. This is in large part thanks to the cinematography (of which you get a good sense in the trailer above), which was thankfully more than a gimmick. In fact, it posed some academic questions I'm still having fun hashing out several weeks later. If you like superhero movies at all and are ready to be proven wrong in your (mostly rightful) preconceptions about high school movies, their characters, and the issues they explore, then go see Chronicle so we can discuss it.
So, as I toured Paris again, I'd have little flashes of my semester abroad and moments in certain places -- kind of like Ben Affleck in that movie Paycheck -- and by the end of three days, I was ready to go before this short vacation turned into really realizing I didn't really have a life here anymore.
So, I went to Budapest.
I'm combining my visits to Lyon and Paris into a single entry, since I've visited both before, and the photos will probably make more statements more effectively than my writing. This is because - and I'm starting to notice it as a trend for my travel entries - the plot is a little thin.
So, here are the photos for Lyon.
And here are the ones for Paris.
Lyon was right between Grenoble and Paris and I'd be damned if I was going to miss out on traditional Lyonnaise food twice. So, the big draw for this visit was Le Musée, located here. As if the #1 rating on TripAdvisor (my go-to for eating when I travel... get your recommendations from them instead of me, and it's basically the same thing) wasn't enough to distinguish it, this restaurant is what they call an official "bouchon."
I mentioned these last time, but a little history lesson is appropriate (now that I actually know the history). In the Great Depression, a lot of (formerly) really rich households in Lyon had to fire their chefs. But, highly skilled cooks being what they are, they didn't have much trouble finding a new market: the public. So, they started up lots of restaurants - "bouchons" - serving good, hot food and just kept doing it. They're very NOT haute-cuisine, but more about a friendly, communal atmosphere. The food focuses on various... let's say "inventive" cuts of meat, so this is not the place to order "just a salad, thanks."
While Lyon is filled with places that advertise themselves as true bouchons, it's generally only the style and atmosphere they mimic, rather than the quality or price. There's a committee dedicated to going around every year and awarding certain restaurants (just under 20, usually) the title of "vrai bouchon Lyonnais" ("true Lyonnaise bouchon"). Which finally brings us back to Le Musée, where we couldn't get a table back in December, but for which I had a reservation this time.
Here's the restaurant. Very cozy.
First up: a piece of brioche bread with a piece of sausage baked in. It was made with love. Literally: I think they have a jar of the stuff, and they sprinkle a little bit on all of the meat they prepare, it tasted that good.
Main course: pig cheeks with potatoes gratin and a vegetable I've had before, can't remember the name of, and don't really like that much. Pig cheeks were delicious, and apparently are the leanest cut of pig you can get.
Finally, crème brulée:
...
Paris was surreal, as perhaps I already expressed here two years ago. I had a lovely visit this time: seeing good friends, eating good food, strolling, and getting my bearings again.
I also saw Chronicle, which was amazing. A really strong, original story with characters that were so close to real that I had to reassure myself I was walking out of a work of fiction at the end. This is in large part thanks to the cinematography (of which you get a good sense in the trailer above), which was thankfully more than a gimmick. In fact, it posed some academic questions I'm still having fun hashing out several weeks later. If you like superhero movies at all and are ready to be proven wrong in your (mostly rightful) preconceptions about high school movies, their characters, and the issues they explore, then go see Chronicle so we can discuss it.
So, as I toured Paris again, I'd have little flashes of my semester abroad and moments in certain places -- kind of like Ben Affleck in that movie Paycheck -- and by the end of three days, I was ready to go before this short vacation turned into really realizing I didn't really have a life here anymore.
So, I went to Budapest.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Andy's Weird Grenoble
Since many of you have other blogs to read and other links to click on from Facebook, I'm giving you a choice. You can either read each of my next four(ish) entries about my spring break all the way through, or I can give you the summary of what I was up to for two of the (now many) weeks I've been away from this blog. (And for those of you already itching to get back to that blue-and-white stream of web-links - and for the mashup-inclined - this is my new favorite website.)
So, my spring break in six sentences (and a parenthetical clause):
Grenoble looks weird.
I skied an Alp.
Lyon food - real Lyon food - tastes good.
Paris is weird the second time.
Budapest looks cool the first time.
Krakow is... different.
To make this easier on everyone, I'm going to break the trip down to one destination per entry.
So. Grenoble.
Grenoble has a few really salient visual features. It's an Olympic city, it's got a river and typically French buildings, and - oh, yeah! - it's surrounded by the freakin' Alps. These are all very cool things about the city, and you'd think that it would look great for it.
You'd think. So, have a look at these pictures and see for yourself.
In truth, those mountains are pretty impressive, and the high fortress on the river gives some great views of the city, but I felt somehow that Grenoble was resting on its laurels, if that makes any sense. The French buildings were... well, French buildings, but not terrifically maintained. There's graffiti everywhere (although it seems to be part of a thriving underground art movement, so I won't judge). The river and its surroundings look good-not-great, and there was quite a bit of haze (I'm sure Lake Garda is to blame... somehow...). I should also add that the Olympic structures were all from the 70s (which, loosely translated from French, means "concrete").
I'm sorry I can't give this entry more of a narrative thrust, but I can sum up my visit with walking around and hiking up to the top of the Bastille fortress (one of the most rewarding hikes I've ever done, I think, and not just for the view). I also saw Another Happy Day, which was a bit intense, but often quite funny and very well-written and -acted. And I ate well. Oh, and there was a modern art museum in there, too.
Granted, cities like Paris and Lyon are pretty stiff competition as river towns, so I probably shouldn't come down so hard on Grenoble. After all, it's in the freakin' Alps, and there's some very good food to be had. If you don't go in so much for my mealtime descriptions, I might simply suggest making a note of the recommendations and hopping up to the next entry. And I imagine I'm giving that tip to pretty much everyone except my mother.
Okay. Food time.
My first recommendation is La Mandala, located here. I started with an order of 12 escargots that were subtle, but good - they had an onion/tomato/olive oil tapenade-thing that was almost as strong a performance: like a really good supporting role. This is a good part of the world, I should add, for hearty food. Hence my decision to spring for the daily special: a veal T-bone in a deliciously seasoned sauce. The mashed potatoes were flaky yet moist, and flavorful - all without being painfully buttery. It was delicious - not a spectacular delicious, an eye-opening or taste-bud-opening (do they even do that?) delicious - but still some very good food very well-prepared. The regional red wine I ordered was good, and the dining room is very warm and atmospheric. This atmosphere was best punctuated by the chalkboard wine list and sizable window that revealed the chef working over impressively high stovetop flames.
I'll tell you what was a grand slam performance, though - the 'Baba bouchon au vieux rhum': house version of 'baba au rhum' with vanilla custard and delicious homemade (I'm sure) pastry. The Chartreuse digestif on the house - with the manager's insistence I try this regional specialty - was also the touch of a good host. It's a France-famous liqueur made originally by monks in their monastery in the nearby Chartreuse mountain range.
The other great sit-down restaurant I found in Grenoble was La Petite Idée, located here, not far from the river and base of the Bastille fort. It's the perfect choice of a restaurant right after the long hike up to the fortress. I don't think I ordered a starter here (had a late lunch that was good, but nowhere as good as this). No starter, no problem, though, because the duck filet I had...
...was every bit as delicious as it looks. So were the salad and potatoes gratin (I wish there'd been more of that). The sauce on the duck had this slight bitter taste to it that actually complemented the sweetness of the meat very nicely. I was nearly full, but I ordered dessert because I feel I owe that to a restaurant that does such a taste-bud-opening-'cause-here-they-definitely-did-that job.
Also 'cause, hey - what if it's good, too?
It was. Crème brulée.
My last recommendation is for a small but impossibly charming little bakery/tea shop: M. Sarrazin right on the Place Victor Hugo (more specifically, here). They had absolutely delicious breakfast pastries (I had an almond croissant and a pain au chocolat) served in a lovely, calm sitting room. The other, dessert desserts - cakes, canolis, everything but cupcakes, really - looked amazing as well. This one's definitely on my list to explore further on a future visit.
And there will be a future visit, if for no other reason than skiing in Chamrousse.
I spent February 25 and 26 in Grenoble proper. On the 27th, I got on a bus out to Chamrousse, a ski resort about an hour from the city (see here). If you're planning to get here from Grenoble (I'd recommend it), then I highly suggest you check out www.transaltitude.fr for their bus service. For 25 euro, I got an all-day ski pass for the whole resort as well as bus transportation there (and back to Grenoble in the evening). You have to pay more to rent gear (20 euro for boots, skis, and poles at any of the (many) shops), and a lot more for the ski lessons (necessary for me). But the surroundings are amazing (see the second half of my Grenoble photo album) and there are slopes for all levels, reachable by free shuttles that circle the resort.
I actually took to skiing rather quickly (the lesson helped), and I can see why it's so popular - get a good spot and some early confidence at it, and that sport is an addiction. It's like sledding, but on your feet and, if you're good enough, on all the really steep slopes your parents would never have let you sled down when you were a kid! Plus, I'm in the freakin' Alps!
I'd also like to boast out that I did not fall down a single time in the act of skiing. Once I decided I was going to ski down a hill, I did, and I did so without falling, or causing anyone else to do the same.
So, I had to call out "Attention!" a few times... And I probably slipped and fell while walking on the ice, and probably in ski boots, which is probably in large part because ski boots probably suck.
Next stop: Lyon. Which is also near the freakin' Alps.
So, my spring break in six sentences (and a parenthetical clause):
Grenoble looks weird.
I skied an Alp.
Lyon food - real Lyon food - tastes good.
Paris is weird the second time.
Budapest looks cool the first time.
Krakow is... different.
To make this easier on everyone, I'm going to break the trip down to one destination per entry.
So. Grenoble.
Grenoble has a few really salient visual features. It's an Olympic city, it's got a river and typically French buildings, and - oh, yeah! - it's surrounded by the freakin' Alps. These are all very cool things about the city, and you'd think that it would look great for it.
You'd think. So, have a look at these pictures and see for yourself.
In truth, those mountains are pretty impressive, and the high fortress on the river gives some great views of the city, but I felt somehow that Grenoble was resting on its laurels, if that makes any sense. The French buildings were... well, French buildings, but not terrifically maintained. There's graffiti everywhere (although it seems to be part of a thriving underground art movement, so I won't judge). The river and its surroundings look good-not-great, and there was quite a bit of haze (I'm sure Lake Garda is to blame... somehow...). I should also add that the Olympic structures were all from the 70s (which, loosely translated from French, means "concrete").
I'm sorry I can't give this entry more of a narrative thrust, but I can sum up my visit with walking around and hiking up to the top of the Bastille fortress (one of the most rewarding hikes I've ever done, I think, and not just for the view). I also saw Another Happy Day, which was a bit intense, but often quite funny and very well-written and -acted. And I ate well. Oh, and there was a modern art museum in there, too.
Granted, cities like Paris and Lyon are pretty stiff competition as river towns, so I probably shouldn't come down so hard on Grenoble. After all, it's in the freakin' Alps, and there's some very good food to be had. If you don't go in so much for my mealtime descriptions, I might simply suggest making a note of the recommendations and hopping up to the next entry. And I imagine I'm giving that tip to pretty much everyone except my mother.
Okay. Food time.
My first recommendation is La Mandala, located here. I started with an order of 12 escargots that were subtle, but good - they had an onion/tomato/olive oil tapenade-thing that was almost as strong a performance: like a really good supporting role. This is a good part of the world, I should add, for hearty food. Hence my decision to spring for the daily special: a veal T-bone in a deliciously seasoned sauce. The mashed potatoes were flaky yet moist, and flavorful - all without being painfully buttery. It was delicious - not a spectacular delicious, an eye-opening or taste-bud-opening (do they even do that?) delicious - but still some very good food very well-prepared. The regional red wine I ordered was good, and the dining room is very warm and atmospheric. This atmosphere was best punctuated by the chalkboard wine list and sizable window that revealed the chef working over impressively high stovetop flames.
I'll tell you what was a grand slam performance, though - the 'Baba bouchon au vieux rhum': house version of 'baba au rhum' with vanilla custard and delicious homemade (I'm sure) pastry. The Chartreuse digestif on the house - with the manager's insistence I try this regional specialty - was also the touch of a good host. It's a France-famous liqueur made originally by monks in their monastery in the nearby Chartreuse mountain range.
The other great sit-down restaurant I found in Grenoble was La Petite Idée, located here, not far from the river and base of the Bastille fort. It's the perfect choice of a restaurant right after the long hike up to the fortress. I don't think I ordered a starter here (had a late lunch that was good, but nowhere as good as this). No starter, no problem, though, because the duck filet I had...
...was every bit as delicious as it looks. So were the salad and potatoes gratin (I wish there'd been more of that). The sauce on the duck had this slight bitter taste to it that actually complemented the sweetness of the meat very nicely. I was nearly full, but I ordered dessert because I feel I owe that to a restaurant that does such a taste-bud-opening-'cause-here-they-definitely-did-that job.
Also 'cause, hey - what if it's good, too?
It was. Crème brulée.
My last recommendation is for a small but impossibly charming little bakery/tea shop: M. Sarrazin right on the Place Victor Hugo (more specifically, here). They had absolutely delicious breakfast pastries (I had an almond croissant and a pain au chocolat) served in a lovely, calm sitting room. The other, dessert desserts - cakes, canolis, everything but cupcakes, really - looked amazing as well. This one's definitely on my list to explore further on a future visit.
And there will be a future visit, if for no other reason than skiing in Chamrousse.
I spent February 25 and 26 in Grenoble proper. On the 27th, I got on a bus out to Chamrousse, a ski resort about an hour from the city (see here). If you're planning to get here from Grenoble (I'd recommend it), then I highly suggest you check out www.transaltitude.fr for their bus service. For 25 euro, I got an all-day ski pass for the whole resort as well as bus transportation there (and back to Grenoble in the evening). You have to pay more to rent gear (20 euro for boots, skis, and poles at any of the (many) shops), and a lot more for the ski lessons (necessary for me). But the surroundings are amazing (see the second half of my Grenoble photo album) and there are slopes for all levels, reachable by free shuttles that circle the resort.
I actually took to skiing rather quickly (the lesson helped), and I can see why it's so popular - get a good spot and some early confidence at it, and that sport is an addiction. It's like sledding, but on your feet and, if you're good enough, on all the really steep slopes your parents would never have let you sled down when you were a kid! Plus, I'm in the freakin' Alps!
I'd also like to boast out that I did not fall down a single time in the act of skiing. Once I decided I was going to ski down a hill, I did, and I did so without falling, or causing anyone else to do the same.
So, I had to call out "Attention!" a few times... And I probably slipped and fell while walking on the ice, and probably in ski boots, which is probably in large part because ski boots probably suck.
Next stop: Lyon. Which is also near the freakin' Alps.
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
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
A Disconnected Mess of an Entry
First and foremost:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=edYHlnhxyOI
Now that your day has been brightened, hopefully you won't be as cross that I've got almost no governing principle behind this entry, other than a desperate desire to catch up with the present. Accept my apologies and (forthcoming) stories about adorable little French kids. Also, if you like, check out my updated photo album.
Since starting up again in January, I've introduced the weather as a unit of study. I had a lot of really good classes on it (although I'm getting the sense I need to either change my methods or move on to new material). I even dabbled in arts and crafts this time around, having them make more attractive versions of this thing:
Okay, so it's been riding around in my backpack a while.
But it's fun. They get to draw, they get to write the names of the weather, they have it as a study guide for the test I'll give in three weeks, and they get to turn it to whatever the weather is.
Speaking of weather... Beautiful for about 3 weeks. Then, today:
I had my first snow day in five years... which was fantastic. I want to take a minute to share my flatmate Erika's particularly French story about hers. She goes in, and half the teachers are on strike, half the students are missing because the buses are on strike, and then at 10:30 they close the school for a snow day even though there's no snow on the ground (yet).
French kids? French kids!
...
One day, one of the boys comes in with "an English song" on his flash drive that he wants to listen to it in class. "Oh, cool!" I think. Maybe this is like the kid in my oldest class who had lyrics and dance moves for 'Hello, Goodbye'. "This kid's really getting into English class, and maybe this is something I can use!" I take this kid's flash drive and look for the song. I find the song.
"Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO.
...
Andy: "Today, it is chilly!"
Class: "Today, it is chully!"
Andy: "Chilly!"
Class: "Chully!"
...
Andy: "Hot and cold are opposites! Now, how is the weather today?"
Boy: "Today, it is opposite."
...
Andy (to one girl): "Chilly!"
Girl: "Chilly!"
Andy (to the girl): "What is your name?"
Girl: "Chilly! Uh, non..."
...
There's a little kid in the CP (ages 4-6) class who always goes to the bathroom around 9:55. I know because, on his way to and from, he spends a minute or two standing and watching from the hall just outside the space where I teach. Maybe it's me he finds different, but I rather suspect that that's how I looked when I was that age watching the bigger kids do what they do.
...
That's all I got for now.
Also, two good restaurants (mostly for pizza) that I've stumbled across in recent weeks (told you this entry was all over the place). Chez Xavier (in Cannes... more specifically, here) makes really good, reasonably priced wood-fire pizza in a charming setting that's secretly really close to everything. Second is Pizzeria Vesuvio, way over east in Menton (here) and thus close enough to Italy that any Italian dish you order will be good (same goes for the complimentary limoncello they served us after). Friendly service, too.
So, I put in to renew my contract for next year. Same region, unless they honor my request to transfer to Lyon (unlikely), but different town than Grasse, unless I don't have the final say in that matter (certain). I like being in France, working with the kids, having writing time (very productive, even if this blog doesn't show it), and riding out the storm of a tough job market back in the States. To my friends braving said hurricane, I wish you bon courage.
But I'm also doing it because I've learned a good deal of things, mostly from my students. Like this: next time you see lightning and hear rumbling afterward, don't be afraid, even if thunder usually scares you. Because, according to one of my kids, that's not a thunderstorm.
It's a flunderstorm.
-Andy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=edYHlnhxyOI
Now that your day has been brightened, hopefully you won't be as cross that I've got almost no governing principle behind this entry, other than a desperate desire to catch up with the present. Accept my apologies and (forthcoming) stories about adorable little French kids. Also, if you like, check out my updated photo album.
Since starting up again in January, I've introduced the weather as a unit of study. I had a lot of really good classes on it (although I'm getting the sense I need to either change my methods or move on to new material). I even dabbled in arts and crafts this time around, having them make more attractive versions of this thing:
Okay, so it's been riding around in my backpack a while.
But it's fun. They get to draw, they get to write the names of the weather, they have it as a study guide for the test I'll give in three weeks, and they get to turn it to whatever the weather is.
Speaking of weather... Beautiful for about 3 weeks. Then, today:
I had my first snow day in five years... which was fantastic. I want to take a minute to share my flatmate Erika's particularly French story about hers. She goes in, and half the teachers are on strike, half the students are missing because the buses are on strike, and then at 10:30 they close the school for a snow day even though there's no snow on the ground (yet).
French kids? French kids!
...
One day, one of the boys comes in with "an English song" on his flash drive that he wants to listen to it in class. "Oh, cool!" I think. Maybe this is like the kid in my oldest class who had lyrics and dance moves for 'Hello, Goodbye'. "This kid's really getting into English class, and maybe this is something I can use!" I take this kid's flash drive and look for the song. I find the song.
"Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO.
...
Andy: "Today, it is chilly!"
Class: "Today, it is chully!"
Andy: "Chilly!"
Class: "Chully!"
...
Andy: "Hot and cold are opposites! Now, how is the weather today?"
Boy: "Today, it is opposite."
...
Andy (to one girl): "Chilly!"
Girl: "Chilly!"
Andy (to the girl): "What is your name?"
Girl: "Chilly! Uh, non..."
...
There's a little kid in the CP (ages 4-6) class who always goes to the bathroom around 9:55. I know because, on his way to and from, he spends a minute or two standing and watching from the hall just outside the space where I teach. Maybe it's me he finds different, but I rather suspect that that's how I looked when I was that age watching the bigger kids do what they do.
...
That's all I got for now.
Also, two good restaurants (mostly for pizza) that I've stumbled across in recent weeks (told you this entry was all over the place). Chez Xavier (in Cannes... more specifically, here) makes really good, reasonably priced wood-fire pizza in a charming setting that's secretly really close to everything. Second is Pizzeria Vesuvio, way over east in Menton (here) and thus close enough to Italy that any Italian dish you order will be good (same goes for the complimentary limoncello they served us after). Friendly service, too.
So, I put in to renew my contract for next year. Same region, unless they honor my request to transfer to Lyon (unlikely), but different town than Grasse, unless I don't have the final say in that matter (certain). I like being in France, working with the kids, having writing time (very productive, even if this blog doesn't show it), and riding out the storm of a tough job market back in the States. To my friends braving said hurricane, I wish you bon courage.
But I'm also doing it because I've learned a good deal of things, mostly from my students. Like this: next time you see lightning and hear rumbling afterward, don't be afraid, even if thunder usually scares you. Because, according to one of my kids, that's not a thunderstorm.
It's a flunderstorm.
-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
Monday, September 19, 2011
Burn Notice
Theatrics aside, I'm okay. From what I've gathered following that Friday morning conversation, I've still got my job, and I'll be teaching at three schools instead of the one I was first assigned. I'm sorry if I freaked anybody out, but - me being me - I saw an opportunity for some nonlinear storytelling and a cliffhanger ending and I couldn't help myself.
Basically, I'm in the process of following every lead I've got to get in touch with local administrators and, through them, to my assigned schools. I've got one very nice regional administrator helping me out, and she keeps giving me numbers to call and names to ask for. Trouble is, bureaucracy that I'm dealing with, each name ends up being a lead to the next name. I'm secondarily hunting for apartments, but until I make sure I am actually working for those three schools, I hesitate to commit to anything. Basically, I feel like ex-spy Michael Westen running leads to the ground and tyring to resolve his burn notice.*
From what I understand at the moment, one of my schools is in Grasse, where I am, and the other two are in St-Valier-de-Thiey. Here's the map. St-Vallier-de-Thiey is very small, reachable either by car, or by a 20-minute bus ride from Grasse. So, when I signed up for this region and the Azure Coast, you can imagine that this isn't exactly what I had in mind.
But that's not to say I haven't made it to the coast anyway. I met up with two wonderful fellow assistants in the region and strolled around Cannes and Nice for several hours each. And now, my first recommendation. This one's in Nice: ice cream at Fennochio on the Place Rosetti, inside the charming winding streets of the old town. Everything you need to know to find it: right here.
And I shouldn't come down too hard on Grasse, because the center of town is fairly charming and has just about everything you could reasonably need. One such thing is a wonderful restaurant called La Grignote, on the Place Aux Aires, located here. I had a terrific dinner there Saturday night: Foie Gras Ravioli in a cream sauce, followed by a tarte-aux-pommes that they simply knocked out of the park. Service was very good, and the outdoor seating is on a nice little plaza with a fountain and old French buildings whose paint and stucco are crumbling in just the right-looking way. I will post pictures of these various places soon.
So, this afternoon brought some decent news. After some more bureaucratic run-around, I finally got in touch with one Mme. Leblanc, an administrator trying to get in touch with my three schools to make sure I'm still wanted. She's also investigating whether the schools have housing set aside for me, and she's working out my schedule (even keeping in mind the bus schedule from Grasse to St-Vallier). None of it's set yet, but I'm meeting with her at her office in Grasse on Friday morning.
"That's not much, Mikey."
"It's not much, Sam. But it's more than we had."
-----------
*Theatrics not aside, I considered starting the post like this:
My name is Andy Weiner. I used to be a teaching assistant. Until...
WOMAN ON PHONE [V.O.]: We don't need any teaching assistants this year.
When you're burned, you've got nothing. No work, no salary, nobody to validate your visa. You're stuck in whatever city they decided to assign you to.
Email from Dad onscreen: "Where are u???"
Andy types: "In Grasse"
You take whatever work comes your way.
Andy scrolls through Facebook, bored.
You rely on anybody who's still talking to you... A few fellow teaching assistants who happen to be in the same time zone.
Andy walks around promenades with Katie Hardy and Soraya. He Skypes with his friend Lauren.
A friendly French woman who's part of the system that changed your placement.
Andy reads email from Mme. Laboz.
Family, too...
RENEE (ON SKYPE): We miss you, kiddo!
...If you're desperate.
RENEE (CONTD.): At least they're not gonna' have a war over there, like when cousin Paul was in the Peace Corps in South America!
Bottom line, until you figure out who can un-burn you... you're not going anywhere.
...If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here.
Basically, I'm in the process of following every lead I've got to get in touch with local administrators and, through them, to my assigned schools. I've got one very nice regional administrator helping me out, and she keeps giving me numbers to call and names to ask for. Trouble is, bureaucracy that I'm dealing with, each name ends up being a lead to the next name. I'm secondarily hunting for apartments, but until I make sure I am actually working for those three schools, I hesitate to commit to anything. Basically, I feel like ex-spy Michael Westen running leads to the ground and tyring to resolve his burn notice.*
From what I understand at the moment, one of my schools is in Grasse, where I am, and the other two are in St-Valier-de-Thiey. Here's the map. St-Vallier-de-Thiey is very small, reachable either by car, or by a 20-minute bus ride from Grasse. So, when I signed up for this region and the Azure Coast, you can imagine that this isn't exactly what I had in mind.
But that's not to say I haven't made it to the coast anyway. I met up with two wonderful fellow assistants in the region and strolled around Cannes and Nice for several hours each. And now, my first recommendation. This one's in Nice: ice cream at Fennochio on the Place Rosetti, inside the charming winding streets of the old town. Everything you need to know to find it: right here.
And I shouldn't come down too hard on Grasse, because the center of town is fairly charming and has just about everything you could reasonably need. One such thing is a wonderful restaurant called La Grignote, on the Place Aux Aires, located here. I had a terrific dinner there Saturday night: Foie Gras Ravioli in a cream sauce, followed by a tarte-aux-pommes that they simply knocked out of the park. Service was very good, and the outdoor seating is on a nice little plaza with a fountain and old French buildings whose paint and stucco are crumbling in just the right-looking way. I will post pictures of these various places soon.
So, this afternoon brought some decent news. After some more bureaucratic run-around, I finally got in touch with one Mme. Leblanc, an administrator trying to get in touch with my three schools to make sure I'm still wanted. She's also investigating whether the schools have housing set aside for me, and she's working out my schedule (even keeping in mind the bus schedule from Grasse to St-Vallier). None of it's set yet, but I'm meeting with her at her office in Grasse on Friday morning.
"That's not much, Mikey."
"It's not much, Sam. But it's more than we had."
-----------
*Theatrics not aside, I considered starting the post like this:
My name is Andy Weiner. I used to be a teaching assistant. Until...
WOMAN ON PHONE [V.O.]: We don't need any teaching assistants this year.
When you're burned, you've got nothing. No work, no salary, nobody to validate your visa. You're stuck in whatever city they decided to assign you to.
Email from Dad onscreen: "Where are u???"
Andy types: "In Grasse"
You take whatever work comes your way.
Andy scrolls through Facebook, bored.
You rely on anybody who's still talking to you... A few fellow teaching assistants who happen to be in the same time zone.
Andy walks around promenades with Katie Hardy and Soraya. He Skypes with his friend Lauren.
A friendly French woman who's part of the system that changed your placement.
Andy reads email from Mme. Laboz.
Family, too...
RENEE (ON SKYPE): We miss you, kiddo!
...If you're desperate.
RENEE (CONTD.): At least they're not gonna' have a war over there, like when cousin Paul was in the Peace Corps in South America!
Bottom line, until you figure out who can un-burn you... you're not going anywhere.
...If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here.
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