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.