Back To

I fit the past four months into two suitcases and a backpack. I made my bed one last time in Paris and closed the door behind me. I walked down the skinny hallway, placed my key on the dining room table, walked down to the foyer, and out onto Rue Saint Dominique one last time. It was 4:30 a.m. when I said goodbye while the rest of the city continued to sleep. As the taxi drove by many of the places I spent time in, a slideshow of memories, rendezvous, and eaten baguettes resurfaced. I past and left metro stops behind that I often met friends at, and suddenly my tale in Europe was ending.


I'm now home and being outside means silence. The air is crisp and the ocean continues to crash. I drive down Conanicut Avenue and notice the familiar site is comforting.

My days are filled differently. I stay in bed a little longer. I see trees outside my windows, and some mornings when I'm lucky, the birds chirp. Routines have begun and more importantly I see faces that I missed seeing. Life here kept moving as I jumped out of it for a short while, but it was just as easy to fall back into it. There is a little less to observe at home so my brain can finally hear itself think, though I'm starting to question whether I believe this is a good thing. Sometimes it's better to not pay so much attention to the details.

I have time now to catch up on those t.v. series that used to rule my world, cook in a kitchen that isn't the size of a hallway, but also eat out in restaurants where the staff remembers me (and is happy to serve). I ride on wheels now rather than trains so it's nice to see life moving above ground. Did I ever leave?

Archway to Antiquity

It was pouring. My pants were forever stuck to my legs, it didn't feel like I had shoes on anymore, and my entire face was freckled with rain drops. The paper map I had of Rome only lasted a few minutes until it was breaking apart in my hands, and the images turned into tie-dye. I was the only one on the street without an umbrella moving at a confused and slow pace laughing by myself.

I couldn't tell you how many people I asked for directions for the Pantheon that evening. I was pointed towards many different streets, and after many puddles and many sweet little cobblestones, I found it. Shortly after that, I ate the best lasagna of my life, scusate Nonna.

I reunited with my dear friend Beth, and while she drank her mandatory cappuccinos, I ate lots of pizza. We wandered and we danced, and we looked all around. A change from Paris's architecture, I found Rome's more simplistic and more colorful. Apart from it's Baroque churches, which are heavily adorned and gilded, apartment buildings are less decorated but just as charming.

We walked to the very top of the cupola, and after an endless, rotating 500 steps at a slight angle up the dome, the view was stunning. I am continually in admiration for the Roman's ability to create symmetrical roads with arched cobblestones that go on for forever- in both Rome and Paris.

First this...

Then this,  Città del Vaticano. 

Again, twilight, my favorite time.

Fontana di Trevi with Giuliano, a new friend from Argentina. 

Colosseo, its shadows, its arches, its medieval dwellers. 

Who were the men that built these massive monuments and fountains? They were the most skilled, I think. I linger around them and I try to find each detail because I don't want to miss any work these men did.

Nous reverrons bientôt, je te promets! xx

City Sounds

Fall in Europe feels close to how it does at home, but I might favor my setting slightly more. I walk and leaves crunch beneath my feet. I listen to the sound of them hitting the pavement and watch them dance with the wind down the streets. Everyone's cheeks are rosy and their jackets are buttoned up all the way. And Christmas lights and markets are being set up and I am ready for it all. 

I've developed an addiction for walking at twilight. Have you noticed how beautiful everyone and everything looks at this time of the day? I can watch people endlessly. I like sitting and watching people move; I've noticed we move so fast sometimes. But time doesn't go by so fast if you sit. 

This city has been everything that everyone said it would be and more. We walk late late nights on the Champs while it rains, and I feel I'm in a movie. I've never not minded the rain so much- somehow things look even more beautiful when they are wet.  

This past week I went to the Madeleine Church to watch a quartet play and the acoustics made my ears very happy. I heard Mozart for two hours while looking up at the ceiling of this enormous place. After seeing so many churches, I am still puzzled by their construction and the detail that was once put into them. I mean, how did they do it?!

You should have seen this man's right arm move!!

A weekend back I visited Amsterdam, a city that lives a little bit differently than everywhere else. The lifestyle there didn't seem like real life to me so it was fun to getaway to a different realm. There was so much color in Amsterdam- the leaning buildings, the million bikes which I almost collided with, and all the boat houses. There used to be 50 canals in Amsterdam in the 17th century. Now there are more than 250.

We wandered so many of its little streets and admired all of the characteristics. We visited Anne Frank's house, an emotional walkthrough that put lots of things into perspective, walked through markets, ate pancakes and waffles, and had a tough time ethically figuring out what to think of the notorious Red Light District. 

Fact: Dutch style pancakes are better.

…and he's right.

Being silly in Rembrandt Square

The bus ride to you, Amsterdam, was so loong but so worth it.

So Much Happened

Fresh Air.

I needed it. I'm getting more used to living an urban life, but I missed being able to see endless fields of grass. And houses, houses without one adjacent to the other. I also missed seeing Ocean. She seems to have a calming effect on me. 

I made it to the opposite coast of France and saw lots of historic landmarks in both Normandy and Brittany. We traveled in a bus this time so I was able to see 18th century houses, millions of cows, and so much of the sky.

The D-Day museum in Normandy, Mémorial de Caen, was a good and necessary brush up on WWII history before going to the beaches where attacks took place. I saw incredible raw footage from the American arrival to Omaha and Utah Beach, onto Germany-occupied France. American Airplanes flew overhead and bombs were dropped like rain. It got bloody, very quickly.
All the propaganda that seemed to be so convincing to soldiers was now transparent and deceiving to those who believed war made you a real man. There is nothing manly about surviving in a war zone, it is just violent.

Colleville Cemetery, American Cemetery in Normandy, US soil.

Here lie 9,300 soldiers who died in the "Fight for Freedom" in Normandy. 

After a moving memorial for all those who fought on the 6th of June, 1944, we sought out more history. I went onto Omaha Beach and explored the battle zone of Utah Beach. 

Omaha Beach, Normandy. Imagine thousands of more footsteps, 70 years ago.
 Ocean, I missed your vastness.  

Real happy to be here. 

On Utah Beach, everything was practically left as it was after being attacked. It was hard to photograph all the craters in the ground so what you see is only a glimpse of how many more there were behind me and to the right and left of me. 

Every thing in this area was destroyed after the war, but the people literally picked up the same stones off the ground and built the houses up again as closely as they could to how they used to be. 

Northern coast of France. Can you tell how temperamental the weather was being this day? 

We spent that night in St. Malo, a small town that is enclosed by a big stone wall in Brittany. We walked around it in the morning and it was the best way to welcome the day. 

Saint Malo, a sweet little town with delicious cider and lots of cobblestones.

The next day we visited Le Mont Saint Michel, an island from the year 708, that is stunning from miles away. Dating back to the 15th and 16th century, people went there to study medicine and astrology, and from that, many important manuscripts originated there. 

Saint Michel was the saint who decided if one would end up in heaven or hell once you died, therefore people made the pilgrimage to the island with all of its hardships and dangers to try to earn their place in heaven and show the saint their sacrifices. A religious pilgrimage like this was a very common Medieval belief and societal norm. 

I finally made it here!!! 

So Gothic, So Symmetrical. 

There is still a functioning Abbey at the very top. The monks used to eat in a big hall inside, and all you would hear would be the echoes of spoons clinking, no talking. I'm not sure if they are still this strict. 

I wish I had more time in every place that I visit, but it just means I'll be back again. 

See All There Is

I get more stimulated by the things that are around me. I am more and more eager to see every thing. This feeling is bursting inside me, but with that comes an overwhelming feeling.
Though, this feeling makes you move, makes you look, makes you learn.
I'm beginning to think it may be impossible to see all there is to see in the two months I have left here, but let's not talk about that. In my architecture class today, my professor was kind enough to hand us a stapled booklet, more or less the size of your car manual, on exhibits in most museums in Paris, streets to walk down and admire, and the interior of many cafés.
Yes, overwhelmed, but motivated.

My first visitors came this past weekend, and it was so nice to see familiar faces! Mom, Gary, and I ate at yummy restaurants, roamed around different neighborhoods, and visited this big house:

A small nook of the Palace of Versailles

The astronomical size of this château leaves you clueless as to what life was like for the royals who lived here. This palace required 10,000 staff members to serve the monarch and to maintain the upkeep of such a place.

A long room with endless mirrors and chandeliers.

gold, gold, gold.

Mom found her Constable of France...

And I found my General, he had nice curls.

We liked this day and this couch.

I conveniently take the metro to all corners of the city, as it is starting to get chilly here to walk. I'm addicted to the surprise of what you will see when ascending the stairs back into the city world. I pause once I make it up, I think; in which direction do I feel like walking? And then I walk. It's always an adventure and I always find something.

We explored Montmartre one afternoon, an area of Paris famous for its small streets filled with artists and its very large Basilica, Sacré Coeur. Apart from this area that has an inescapable crowd, its residential area and boulangeries is a place I could spend hours in.

Van Gogh walked out of this door so many times.

Small and winding, and I could get lost forever here and never mind.

Sacré Coeur, Sacred Heart, this basilica was built to honor all those killed during the French Revolution. A structure that was meant to symbolizes peace after such violence. 

                                                                                                                               . . .

Bisous Mama, I miss you!

Contrast.

From sand to concrete. From feet to metro. From leisure to fast. 

I've lived in Paris for almost two weeks now. It's clear how much my French must.improve. But it is also clear how badly I want to be fluent. 

I walk up and down streets that I don't know the names of, and many times I go the wrong way, but it doesn't even matter because this city's buildings are standing beauties. I stop and stare at different ones for a long time. 

Or I stare at the people. The people here walk around in their flawless getup with a baguette in one hand and a pain au chocolat in the other. I mean everyone. 

We've been lucky and have had nice walk-for-forever weather. The sun doesn't shine here like Cannes, but the city still glows. There are more cafés here than there are bathrooms. So you certainly never have trouble satisfying your need for a sweet little treat. 

There she is...A classic shot, but it's ok because I'm here. 

L'hôtel des Invalides. Napoleon lies below this golden dome, the biggest in the city. You can still see war veterans roaming in their wheelchairs around the yard. 

Quite spontaneously, I made plans to go to Italy this past weekend to visit family in Milano and Torino and in the middle of that find some time to squeeze my dear Stephanie who is staying in central Milano for a few months. We relished the time we spent together, even if it was short. 

Thanks for smiling even while going crazy looking for my train!

Just what my belly needed...Gnocco Frito with every kind of prosciutto crudo you can imagine.

In Torino, I walked around the same streets my Nonno walked to work to, I sat at the squares and ate where he did, and I went to a 18th century party at La Venaria Reale, a royal palace, where I'm sure he didn't party in. But I wish he had, so fun! My cousins were kind enough to sift through their wardrobe and find me something appropriate to wear. This extravagant event hosted 1,500 guests, all dressed in elegant dresses and serious hairdos. I stepped into a vortex of time and listened to music from that era and danced, and for couple of minutes it seemed like I was on set of Downton Abbey, except I never found Matthew.

All dressed up.

The view from La Mole Antonelliana, Torino.

Lookouts

It's a rare sight to see one Ferrari in a day. It's even more rare to see six, all lined up next to each other. But this is the norm in Monaco where luxuries in this small city-state are vast. The architecture and attention to detail is quite impressive along with its infamous hotels and casino in Monte Carlo.

We were dropped off at a high point which overlooked the majority of Monaco. It was early in the morning and the air was refreshing. But as the day grew, so did the amount of tourists. It became hard to walk through the quaint streets and almost impossible to take a photo without a million strangers in the middle of it.

So perfect it almost looks fake.

Le Musée Océanographique de Monaco was the most fun I had in Monaco actually. Apart from the unique looking fish, we spent a long time admiring the outside of this building.

The fish in the aquarium have quite the vista...

On top of the aquarium. Don't think I don't have friends who could instead take this photo for me- I do!! I find it amusing to try to capture some of the background with myself after 25 tries. This one made the cut.

The next stop was Èze, a village that overlooks the South Eastern coast of France and the Mediterranean. This village is built up on the French Alps and has the most magnificent view. We hiked up the small winding streets to get to the top and this is what we saw:

Kind of at a loss for words for this place. 

A little higher up.

Apart from the view and the biggest cacti garden I've ever seen before, Èze has artists and delicious little cafés. This place is a hidden gem and I will surely be back here again.