Friday was my second full day in Geneva and I spent it hitting up all the sights around town I had missed the first day- I went inside a few of the museums that I actually had to pay for (but had decided they were worth it after sizing up the competition). I found (right by St. Pierre's Cathedral in the old city) and English speaking Evangelical Lutheran Church and I met a nice lady named Marian who told me I could come to church on Sunday with all my luggage and store them in a locked office. Nice to know I had some sort of plan for later days!
I bought some Swiss chocolate, looked at them time on my Swiss watch and wished airplanes were cooler with knives so I could have pulled out my Swiss army knife, but I knew I had it back in Galway. The Swiss do those three things and not much else, but they do them very well.
After ogling the Ferrari and Maserati dealership across the street from an overly symbolic and new-looking Catholic church, I headed back to the hostel for dinner since I knew I could get a balanced meal for cheap since all I had been living on for the past few days was cheese, bread, and PB&J. I met up with my German roommates and we had dinner together- it was really nice. Ejavet was in Geneva to apply for a job with the Red Cross and Erga, his childhood friend was along for "companionness" as they called it. Erga didn't know nearly as much English as Ejavet, so I talked mostly with Ejavet and learned that he was actually Turkish but had lived in Germany since he was an infant. Erga made a few jokes now and then, but he was mostly hard to understand but it was still cool. After dinner, I went to watch a few more chess games then game back for an early bedtime since I knew I planned on hiking the next day.
As I lay in bed, reading my Bible, Mahdi and the Germans came back in and they noticed I was reading a Bible. Mahdi proceeded to tell us about his Muslim prayer rituals (in fact I accidentally walked in on him once- that was embarrassing) and he and Ejavet started to get into some arguments about Islam (Ejavet is a nominal Muslim having been born in Turkey but raised in German Christian culture). Ejavet is very well educated and knew his stuff, but Mahdi definitely practices it all regularly and I could tell the each looked down on each other. Soon enough, Mahdi started talking about Isa in the Injils (Jesus in the Gospels) and wanted me to know that Jesus predicted the coming of Muhammed. Fortunately (the better and more accurate word here is blessedly), I knew exactly what he was referring to, having talked about it in our classes back in Galway. Turning to John 14:16, I read the words of Isa that Mahdi was referring to and he got very excited to hear me "confirming" what he said. But I went on, reading that this Counselor would live in us and I asked him how Muhammed as a human being could live in other people. Mahdi read the words over and over again and got kind of confused and so I tried to tell him that the Counselor could not be a man like Muhammed but a spirit, the Spirit of God. At this point, Ejavet interjected saying that it was wrong to believe that God would live in a person then Mahdi said, "Oh but I think something divine lives in this girl I met... oh how I want to go to the Russia to see her..." and our theological conversation was effectively ended as the other guys started making fun of him. I was excited about the door God had opened though and hoped I had planted some seeds. I prayed that night that God would use me to reach my roommates throughout the trip and that I would be able to follow His lead and not mess things up. Little did I know where that would bring me...
And again, I pause for an intermission for my homework and your attention span. Yes, I know there are no pictures yet: I still have much of the story to tell and I don't want you distracted by the Swiss Alps (oh yes there are Alps, where did you think I'm going hiking?) while I'm trying to tell you all about how God used the situations with my roommates and all the people I met.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Geneva- Part I
Sorry it has taken so long to post this one. I had a big presentation to give, then my parents came and I got behind on my homework again.
I took the TGV from Angers to Lyons for about five hours- it was so fast, but France is pretty big. Lyons was large and confusing, but I found my way to the platform for the train to Geneve and secured my spot on the train. We wound through tall mountains I couldn't even see the tops of and there was this little kid who had just learned how to walk tottering up and down the aisles, nearly falling each time the train turned. We arrived in Geneva after dark and I was glad that I had booked a hotel the day before (as expensive as it was, this was my spring break and if I was gonna spend two nights on the streets, I could afford one night in a nice hotel). I quickly found out that even though my French is passable, if people get confused as to what I am asking, they all speak English anyway. I found my hotel, looked up a hostel, booked the rest of the time there, picked up a city map and a guide book from the tourist office, then settled down for a nice rest in a nice bed.
The next morning (Thursday) I moved out of the hotel and up the lake shore to my hostel. This was my first time seeing Geneva in daylight and it was fantastic. Such a beautiful city! The lake is clear, the air clean, the buildings tall and the weather perfect! The hostel was decent too, with lockers, clean beds and showers as well as included breakfast and a free pass to use Geneva's public transit system. And so I embarked on my spree of tourism. The guide book had lots of interesting places, so I just looked for the nearest ones and worked my way through the city. I saw monuments, museums, statues of Reformers, churches, parks, the Jet d'Eau and all sorts of sweet things.
As I was stopped at the Anglican Church, a man approached me and asked if I spoke English, which of course I do. He told me he was an Iranian professor from Tehran who was a UN refugee stuck in Geneva and he was writing a book and he wanted me to help correct his English grammar and such. At first, I was wondering how to get away from him, but then I realized that I had four days in this city and I was pretty lonely and bored already, so why not? Farad and I sat in the church and went over his papers for the next two hours- some pretty feisty stuff about Bush, then some anecdotes one about how far people will go to still have someone to talk to... I thought it was appropriate. It was nice to talk with someone for that long even if most of the conversation was confused and scattered.
The pictures will speak for themselves for the things I saw, but one of my favorite places was Parc des Bastions (where the Reformation Wall is) and where there are huge life size chess boards and pieces and bunches of old Swiss men huddling around, playing or watching the games, trash talking in French and making fun of each other. It was really amusing and I ended up watching lots of games and coming back for more.
That night, I settled back into the hostel after a long day of walking all over the city and learning my way around the tram and bus system. I met my roommates- Mahdi, a Lybian who had just met the girl of his dreams apparently because he couldn't stop talking about her and how he wanted to go visit "the Russia" where she lives. Later, Ejavet and Erga two Germans came in and settled down. There were a couple others (an awkwardly loud American and two students from Hong Kong who were studying in Britain) but the first three were ones I got to know later.
A lot happened in the next few days, so I'll break up the story for my homework's and your attention span's sake.
I took the TGV from Angers to Lyons for about five hours- it was so fast, but France is pretty big. Lyons was large and confusing, but I found my way to the platform for the train to Geneve and secured my spot on the train. We wound through tall mountains I couldn't even see the tops of and there was this little kid who had just learned how to walk tottering up and down the aisles, nearly falling each time the train turned. We arrived in Geneva after dark and I was glad that I had booked a hotel the day before (as expensive as it was, this was my spring break and if I was gonna spend two nights on the streets, I could afford one night in a nice hotel). I quickly found out that even though my French is passable, if people get confused as to what I am asking, they all speak English anyway. I found my hotel, looked up a hostel, booked the rest of the time there, picked up a city map and a guide book from the tourist office, then settled down for a nice rest in a nice bed.
The next morning (Thursday) I moved out of the hotel and up the lake shore to my hostel. This was my first time seeing Geneva in daylight and it was fantastic. Such a beautiful city! The lake is clear, the air clean, the buildings tall and the weather perfect! The hostel was decent too, with lockers, clean beds and showers as well as included breakfast and a free pass to use Geneva's public transit system. And so I embarked on my spree of tourism. The guide book had lots of interesting places, so I just looked for the nearest ones and worked my way through the city. I saw monuments, museums, statues of Reformers, churches, parks, the Jet d'Eau and all sorts of sweet things.
As I was stopped at the Anglican Church, a man approached me and asked if I spoke English, which of course I do. He told me he was an Iranian professor from Tehran who was a UN refugee stuck in Geneva and he was writing a book and he wanted me to help correct his English grammar and such. At first, I was wondering how to get away from him, but then I realized that I had four days in this city and I was pretty lonely and bored already, so why not? Farad and I sat in the church and went over his papers for the next two hours- some pretty feisty stuff about Bush, then some anecdotes one about how far people will go to still have someone to talk to... I thought it was appropriate. It was nice to talk with someone for that long even if most of the conversation was confused and scattered.
The pictures will speak for themselves for the things I saw, but one of my favorite places was Parc des Bastions (where the Reformation Wall is) and where there are huge life size chess boards and pieces and bunches of old Swiss men huddling around, playing or watching the games, trash talking in French and making fun of each other. It was really amusing and I ended up watching lots of games and coming back for more.
That night, I settled back into the hostel after a long day of walking all over the city and learning my way around the tram and bus system. I met my roommates- Mahdi, a Lybian who had just met the girl of his dreams apparently because he couldn't stop talking about her and how he wanted to go visit "the Russia" where she lives. Later, Ejavet and Erga two Germans came in and settled down. There were a couple others (an awkwardly loud American and two students from Hong Kong who were studying in Britain) but the first three were ones I got to know later.
A lot happened in the next few days, so I'll break up the story for my homework's and your attention span's sake.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Angers
We had a very nice evening train ride from Caen to Angers filled with good conversation and looking out the window at France all the while Devon being more confused that I was about where she was. We past some church and she thought it was the Norman coastal town of Mont St. Michel- we were so far from there... oh Devo.
We were picked up in the Angers train station by Devon's French boyfriend, Pierre-Charles who thankfully does speak English. He drove us to his flat for dinner where we had some pizza and rice au lait from his parents' dairy farm in Bretagne. He also gave us some fresh milk which was so rich and fantastic and amazing. Being a long day, we retired to Devon's apartment and fell asleep.
The next day (Wednesday the 26th) was a glorious day of touring through Angers with Devon showing me all the famous places and her favorite spots. We saw cathedrals and old streets, her favorite parks and places to run (with beautiful spring flowers in bloom) and she took me to this cozy little restaurant that was very fancy and snobbish looking, but the prices were quite decent and we had a three course glorious French meal complete with all the things French do like bread and cheese, and the very best chocolate mousse I had ever tasted. After that we went to le Chateau d'Angers (it amuses me how the French "of Angers" looks like "dangers"!) where we toured around and saw good views of the city, tapestries depicting Revelation, and found a sweet echo spot inside of a tower where you could hear your voice as if you were miked and we sang Come Thou Fount. It was awesome.
We made ourselves a nice dinner of fresh bread and fine cheese for dinner that night along with some spaghetti and zucchini I cooked. We also happened to roll by the train station to see if I could get to Rome for the next few days to finish out my vacation, but the lady said there were no tickets and offered other (more expensive ways) to get to Rome. We told her that I didn't need to get to Rome, just somewhere nice and for cheap, so she looked and some decent tickets to Geneva popped up! Ok, so I'm going to Geneva... that's why that night as well as the next morning I spent lots of time learning about this city and looking for places to stay. My tickets were for 1PM so I mostly chilled on Thursday morning and headed out that afternoon for a looong train ride across pretty much all of France.
Pictures:
We were picked up in the Angers train station by Devon's French boyfriend, Pierre-Charles who thankfully does speak English. He drove us to his flat for dinner where we had some pizza and rice au lait from his parents' dairy farm in Bretagne. He also gave us some fresh milk which was so rich and fantastic and amazing. Being a long day, we retired to Devon's apartment and fell asleep.
The next day (Wednesday the 26th) was a glorious day of touring through Angers with Devon showing me all the famous places and her favorite spots. We saw cathedrals and old streets, her favorite parks and places to run (with beautiful spring flowers in bloom) and she took me to this cozy little restaurant that was very fancy and snobbish looking, but the prices were quite decent and we had a three course glorious French meal complete with all the things French do like bread and cheese, and the very best chocolate mousse I had ever tasted. After that we went to le Chateau d'Angers (it amuses me how the French "of Angers" looks like "dangers"!) where we toured around and saw good views of the city, tapestries depicting Revelation, and found a sweet echo spot inside of a tower where you could hear your voice as if you were miked and we sang Come Thou Fount. It was awesome.
We made ourselves a nice dinner of fresh bread and fine cheese for dinner that night along with some spaghetti and zucchini I cooked. We also happened to roll by the train station to see if I could get to Rome for the next few days to finish out my vacation, but the lady said there were no tickets and offered other (more expensive ways) to get to Rome. We told her that I didn't need to get to Rome, just somewhere nice and for cheap, so she looked and some decent tickets to Geneva popped up! Ok, so I'm going to Geneva... that's why that night as well as the next morning I spent lots of time learning about this city and looking for places to stay. My tickets were for 1PM so I mostly chilled on Thursday morning and headed out that afternoon for a looong train ride across pretty much all of France.
Pictures:
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Caen and Normandy
The train ride from Paris to Caen in Normandy was sweet because it was my first time on a TGV and they are pretty dang fast. The only trouble is I was a bit sick and really didn't feel like reading aloud parts of the Easter story like Devon wanted to. I felt bad about it, but my nasal cavties were feeling worse. We arrived in Caen and were picked up by Romain, a guy we had never met before whom Devon had arranged things with through a website called CouchSurfing. It sounds shady I know, but after looking into the website, it seems very legit and after our experience with Romain and I can tell you it is.
Romain didn't speak any English, so it was mostly up to Devon to talk and I said a few phrases. I could understand most of it, but had a hard time formulating my thoughts into a French sentence. He was such an energetic and exited young fellow who really seemed to enjoy showing us around Caen and it's chateau before dropping us off at the DDay Memorial museum. We spent most of the afternoon there going through exhibits and seeing little films, but we found that the bus service that runs from Caen to the invasion beaches were not running because it was Easter weekend. We left the memorial wondering how we would reach our ultimate goal, but tried to spend the evening enjoyed our time at Romain's little apartment. His girlfriend knew less English, but we got to know another couple who was staying with him- friend from when they used to live on a little island off of Madagascar. That had a little two year old son named Joharey who had an ear infection and despite crying now and then was a very happy and explorative little guy. Devon played some songs for them and we chatted a lot (or rather they chatted and I listened). It was a very fun evening and looking back, I don't remember it being in a different language- I still feel like I got to know them without that barrier.
The next morning we worried about how we might get to the beaches and so we mentioned our problem to Romain who promptly offered to drive us the 45 minutes to Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery. I could not believe the generosity! Not only had this man picked us up from the train station, drove us all over Caen, fed us dinner, took us in for the night, fed us breakfast and lunch, he drove us all the way to the beaches an back! What a guy! He didn't even expect a cent in payment, but we insisted on paying for the gas for the long drive.
The beach and the cemetery were very moving for me. Even the drive to the beach looked familiar from pictures and stories I have read. I've done a lot of study on Operation Overlord and this has been my one travel goal ever since... forever. It was so exciting to look out on the very sea that was once filled with the largest invasion fleet in the history of the world (even up til now), to stand on the beach whose waves were once red with blood, to look up on the bluffs that once hid thousands of Germans in Rommel's Atlantic Wall. I took a few rocks from Omaha Beach- a black heart shaped one, a red heart, and two other random reddish ones. The cemetery was the best though. I though a lot on this quote from the end of Ernie Pyle's book "Brave Men"
I took lots of pictures at the cemetery and even got one of the American flag with the sun behind it just like in the beginning of Saving Private Ryan. That one and the ones with the cross with the rose are my favorite pictures.
I was glad I was finally able to make it to the DDay beaches and I really enjoyed being able to tell the history to Devon and the others. We drove straight from the beaches to the Caen train station where we emabarked on the next part of our adventure- Devon's little town of Angers in the Loire Valley.
Pictures:
Romain didn't speak any English, so it was mostly up to Devon to talk and I said a few phrases. I could understand most of it, but had a hard time formulating my thoughts into a French sentence. He was such an energetic and exited young fellow who really seemed to enjoy showing us around Caen and it's chateau before dropping us off at the DDay Memorial museum. We spent most of the afternoon there going through exhibits and seeing little films, but we found that the bus service that runs from Caen to the invasion beaches were not running because it was Easter weekend. We left the memorial wondering how we would reach our ultimate goal, but tried to spend the evening enjoyed our time at Romain's little apartment. His girlfriend knew less English, but we got to know another couple who was staying with him- friend from when they used to live on a little island off of Madagascar. That had a little two year old son named Joharey who had an ear infection and despite crying now and then was a very happy and explorative little guy. Devon played some songs for them and we chatted a lot (or rather they chatted and I listened). It was a very fun evening and looking back, I don't remember it being in a different language- I still feel like I got to know them without that barrier.
The next morning we worried about how we might get to the beaches and so we mentioned our problem to Romain who promptly offered to drive us the 45 minutes to Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery. I could not believe the generosity! Not only had this man picked us up from the train station, drove us all over Caen, fed us dinner, took us in for the night, fed us breakfast and lunch, he drove us all the way to the beaches an back! What a guy! He didn't even expect a cent in payment, but we insisted on paying for the gas for the long drive.
The beach and the cemetery were very moving for me. Even the drive to the beach looked familiar from pictures and stories I have read. I've done a lot of study on Operation Overlord and this has been my one travel goal ever since... forever. It was so exciting to look out on the very sea that was once filled with the largest invasion fleet in the history of the world (even up til now), to stand on the beach whose waves were once red with blood, to look up on the bluffs that once hid thousands of Germans in Rommel's Atlantic Wall. I took a few rocks from Omaha Beach- a black heart shaped one, a red heart, and two other random reddish ones. The cemetery was the best though. I though a lot on this quote from the end of Ernie Pyle's book "Brave Men"
When we come across the dead men who gave everything for their buddies and for everyone back home, all we can do is pause and murmur quietly, "Thanks, buddy".
I took lots of pictures at the cemetery and even got one of the American flag with the sun behind it just like in the beginning of Saving Private Ryan. That one and the ones with the cross with the rose are my favorite pictures.
I was glad I was finally able to make it to the DDay beaches and I really enjoyed being able to tell the history to Devon and the others. We drove straight from the beaches to the Caen train station where we emabarked on the next part of our adventure- Devon's little town of Angers in the Loire Valley.
Pictures:
Monday, April 7, 2008
Paris- the real deal
In my effort to make the last post a nice, concise, and unboring rundown of the events I totally forgot ALL the stuff I wanted to say about the things that happened there and all the things I have been excited to share since I got back. Man, am I a fool. So now that you have that handy little overview of events, you can place these thoughts in with that timeline. :-)
The whole day of leaving Greystones was rather sad- I love that town and had been delighted to return (fulfilling a vow I made in the early hours of November 21, 2005). I was also sad because I was leaving my friends with whom I had been through this whole adventure. I was excited to see Devon, but I wish I had known I wasn't gonna see Ben again when I left the room that morning because we never said a proper goodbye, but it was nice of Kelsie to walk me to the DART station.
I was terrified of trying to find my way places using the French language. Sure I can memorize the Beatitudes in French and rattle them off with a nice accent, but landing at some airport in the middle of the night, finding a bus to one of the biggest cities on the continent, then spending the night who knows where? From leaving the DART station in Greystones at 3PM on Friday to finding Devon in Gare Montparnasse at noon the next day, I was mostly lonely and afraid.
But! God was watching over me in a way that was so profoundly evident I would have had to have been in an unconscious state to not recognize it. First, I got straight from Greystones to Pizza Pino in random street number 80 billion in Paris without a single hitch. I wanted to take credit as an expert traveler and decipherer of foreign language signs, but I knew I was too tired and confused for that to be true. Not only that, but God gave me the grace to sleep at time in places I shouldn't have without getting caught. I was given a nice little seat in the pizza place facing away from everyone so I could pull out a book and studiously lean over it which so happened to be a mildly comfortable sleeping position. Random times, I felt the need to open my eyes, smile and look around. Every one of those "random" times, my waiter was just on his way over to check on me. The same thing happened with the police when I was napping in the bus stop: I got up and was rummaging through my suitcase rather than huddled in a corner with a blanket an pillow looking like quite the vagrant. And of course again in the cafe the next morning, I was woken by an unexplainable thing during my little naps to grin up at the barrista who had just then decided to glance at me.
If God's hand wasn't evident enough in the amazing and unexpected hospitality of my new friends Melissa and Philippe, you might have to check your level of awareness and see if you're conscious!
And finally, the grace to have such and amazing, accommodating, wise, understanding, fun, and amusing friend as Devon Graves studying in France, to come to Paris to visit with me and show me around, introduce me to our hosts, not to mention give me the infallible directions that got me to Pizza Pino the night before as well as plan out our French adventure in Caen and Angers for the next few days... this sentence has become too long and I don't know how to end it. But God is amazing to give me a friend like Devon and put us both in that situation!
All in all, I did a terrible job planning this excursion and it should have been the biggest disaster of my life- I mean like dead in a gutter disaster.* But God through Devon, our hosts, and His hand working in so many ways turned it not only into a survival in a big city, but a fantastic touristy trek though Paris!
* Call this poetic license of exagerration: I remind you, I was never in any real danger of my life- pickpockets maybe, but nothing life or death!
The whole day of leaving Greystones was rather sad- I love that town and had been delighted to return (fulfilling a vow I made in the early hours of November 21, 2005). I was also sad because I was leaving my friends with whom I had been through this whole adventure. I was excited to see Devon, but I wish I had known I wasn't gonna see Ben again when I left the room that morning because we never said a proper goodbye, but it was nice of Kelsie to walk me to the DART station.
I was terrified of trying to find my way places using the French language. Sure I can memorize the Beatitudes in French and rattle them off with a nice accent, but landing at some airport in the middle of the night, finding a bus to one of the biggest cities on the continent, then spending the night who knows where? From leaving the DART station in Greystones at 3PM on Friday to finding Devon in Gare Montparnasse at noon the next day, I was mostly lonely and afraid.
But! God was watching over me in a way that was so profoundly evident I would have had to have been in an unconscious state to not recognize it. First, I got straight from Greystones to Pizza Pino in random street number 80 billion in Paris without a single hitch. I wanted to take credit as an expert traveler and decipherer of foreign language signs, but I knew I was too tired and confused for that to be true. Not only that, but God gave me the grace to sleep at time in places I shouldn't have without getting caught. I was given a nice little seat in the pizza place facing away from everyone so I could pull out a book and studiously lean over it which so happened to be a mildly comfortable sleeping position. Random times, I felt the need to open my eyes, smile and look around. Every one of those "random" times, my waiter was just on his way over to check on me. The same thing happened with the police when I was napping in the bus stop: I got up and was rummaging through my suitcase rather than huddled in a corner with a blanket an pillow looking like quite the vagrant. And of course again in the cafe the next morning, I was woken by an unexplainable thing during my little naps to grin up at the barrista who had just then decided to glance at me.
If God's hand wasn't evident enough in the amazing and unexpected hospitality of my new friends Melissa and Philippe, you might have to check your level of awareness and see if you're conscious!
And finally, the grace to have such and amazing, accommodating, wise, understanding, fun, and amusing friend as Devon Graves studying in France, to come to Paris to visit with me and show me around, introduce me to our hosts, not to mention give me the infallible directions that got me to Pizza Pino the night before as well as plan out our French adventure in Caen and Angers for the next few days... this sentence has become too long and I don't know how to end it. But God is amazing to give me a friend like Devon and put us both in that situation!
All in all, I did a terrible job planning this excursion and it should have been the biggest disaster of my life- I mean like dead in a gutter disaster.* But God through Devon, our hosts, and His hand working in so many ways turned it not only into a survival in a big city, but a fantastic touristy trek though Paris!
* Call this poetic license of exagerration: I remind you, I was never in any real danger of my life- pickpockets maybe, but nothing life or death!
Paris
Traveling alone is rough. I understood a surprising amount of French as we got off the plane and fought like mad for a spot on a bus into the city. I got it so late that I never really booked a place to stay and just planned to meet Devon in the morning. She had told me of this pizza place that was open late, so I found my way there fairly easily and spent the wee hours of the morning slowly devouring a pizza with an egg on it. They kicked me out at 5AM when the closed and I napped in a bus stop until the metro opened and rode it around for a couple hours until a little cafe was open where I spent the rest of the morning. So yes, I didn't tell my parents or anyone else who would worry that I spent a night on the streets of Paris. Kind of. No, for you worrisome types out there, I'm sure I was never in any danger, it was just uncomfortable.
After some confusion in the train station, Devon and I finally met up, stowed out luggage, then headed out to see the city! Devon was such an amazing tour guide and I saw all the good stuff and none of the lame stuff in like five hours. It was exhausting, but I had some amazing gellato, got my picture taken in front of like forty thousand famous places, listened to her play the piano for a crowd in a bookshop, and realized I was incredibly tired and kinda smelly.
We had plans for dinner with some of Devo's friends in Paris: Melissa and Philippe. They had met in America while Philippe was studying abroad there and Melissa had come to France and they were now engaged and it was also Philippe's birthday! This meant a phenomenal meal in which I actually ate asparagus and enjoyed is (don't tell anyone, they might get ideas). Philippe also happens to be a high class French wine connoisseur, so being his birthday, he broke out some of the really nice stuff and tried to teach us a lot about fine wine tasting. It was a phenomenal experience. They ended up very generously offering to let us stay the night, so Devon canceled our other lodging plans and we settled down in their little Parisian flat. I was amazed by how much I had seen and done in one day, how much sleep I was lacking, and how incredibly wonderful our hosts were, though I had just met them.
Easter morning dawned in Paris and Melissa gave us American candy (Reese's Cups to be precise) for our Easter baskets! By this point my thankfulness for their hospitality was almost overflowing until they gave us bus tickets to get to the train station so we could make it to Caen that day. Paris and the sights were nice, but I will never forget such amazing and unexpected friends as Melissa and Philippe.
On our train ride to Caen, Devon and I got to do a bit of an Easter Sunday Bible study (since we hadn't had time to go to Easter Mass at Notre Dame like we wanted to), and we arrived in Caen sometime after lunch.
That story will wait for another time of me procrastinating from my homework, but for now, here are the pictures of Paris:
After some confusion in the train station, Devon and I finally met up, stowed out luggage, then headed out to see the city! Devon was such an amazing tour guide and I saw all the good stuff and none of the lame stuff in like five hours. It was exhausting, but I had some amazing gellato, got my picture taken in front of like forty thousand famous places, listened to her play the piano for a crowd in a bookshop, and realized I was incredibly tired and kinda smelly.
We had plans for dinner with some of Devo's friends in Paris: Melissa and Philippe. They had met in America while Philippe was studying abroad there and Melissa had come to France and they were now engaged and it was also Philippe's birthday! This meant a phenomenal meal in which I actually ate asparagus and enjoyed is (don't tell anyone, they might get ideas). Philippe also happens to be a high class French wine connoisseur, so being his birthday, he broke out some of the really nice stuff and tried to teach us a lot about fine wine tasting. It was a phenomenal experience. They ended up very generously offering to let us stay the night, so Devon canceled our other lodging plans and we settled down in their little Parisian flat. I was amazed by how much I had seen and done in one day, how much sleep I was lacking, and how incredibly wonderful our hosts were, though I had just met them.
Easter morning dawned in Paris and Melissa gave us American candy (Reese's Cups to be precise) for our Easter baskets! By this point my thankfulness for their hospitality was almost overflowing until they gave us bus tickets to get to the train station so we could make it to Caen that day. Paris and the sights were nice, but I will never forget such amazing and unexpected friends as Melissa and Philippe.
On our train ride to Caen, Devon and I got to do a bit of an Easter Sunday Bible study (since we hadn't had time to go to Easter Mass at Notre Dame like we wanted to), and we arrived in Caen sometime after lunch.
That story will wait for another time of me procrastinating from my homework, but for now, here are the pictures of Paris:
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
The first week- The Dublin Experience
Even though I still have lots to do I need some way to procrastinate, so you're getting the first installment of the spring break updates.
Our first week (March 16-21) was spent living in Greystones near the rest of the TU students. We nearly missed the bus from Galway, got stuck in the Bray DART station like usual, but Ben and I were too elated to return to our old home to care much. We were staying not at the YWCA with the rest of the group, but at a small theological college called Carraig Eden. It was really rather like a hostel situation and Ben and I shared a room that had four beds, community showers down the hall. It was so great to sit on the rocks above the waves again and climb down to the beach like I always used to. That night Kelsie and her roommate went out to dinner, so Ben and I headed to the Y to introduce ourselves to the TU crowd and have dinner with them. We got to chat with a number of people we had kind of known from back on campus and it was really nice to chat with other people from our school. Ben and I went out later that night and even bought Tesco 2 litre colas for defenestration, but the guys didn't seem too into it. The Man House had been all refurbished and lacked it's wonderful smell and character, but it was still my old home. The rock doorstops that we named two years ago were still there!
Monday was St. Patrick's Day and so we accompanied the group into Dublin for Mass at the Dublin Pro-Cathedral and the parade, but not before I accidentally got drenched by a wave that literally rose more than fifteen feet from the sea to hit me. I think God was messing with me or something because it was totally impossible for any wave in those conditions to reach me as near to the road as I was. Aaanyway... Dublin was SO jam packed for the parade. As Megan told me later "I wouldn't wish Dublin on Paddy's Day on anyone"... yet we went by choice. The parade was so weird and fantastical with loads of awkward costumes. I didn't even upload most of the pictures; it just wasn't worth it. But! Afterwards, we had a choice of going to a Gaelic Athletic games day in Croke Park or dancing. Kelsie went off with some girls for dancing while Ben and I headed off for some hurling and Gaelic football. Some sweet games and solid pics. Being a separate group from the ISP, we took the liberty of leaving early to go to dinner in Temple Bar, but we had to meet up with Kelsie who by this point was all alone and trying to find us in an unfamiliar city. Poor kid, she did well finding the Millennium Spire, but we're probably not gonna leave her alone much more. We had dinner with a couple girls who had a mutual friend with Ben, then headed back to Bray to explore to Promenade, then back to Greystones to chill at the Y.
Tuesday, we spent the morning hanging out with people at the Y and then in the afternoon, headed off with the group to Glendalough. It was great to return there also, but it's so much prettier in August when I first saw it. Again we split off from the group and did our own little hike, meeting up at the picturesque tree with the huge swooping branch so Kelsie and her roommate could take pictures of each other in front of the lake.
On Wednesday, the ISPers had to go to Irish Lit class with Beulah Baker... not wanting any part of that we fulfilled our duty to Vance and pretty much finished off Kelsie's Irish history class by giving her the grand tour of historical sites in Dublin. We took the Hop on/Hop off bus and saw Trinity College, the Book of Kells, Dublin Castle (which I had never been to before), Christ Church and St. Patrick's Cathedral, as well as Kilmainham Gaol (where we had the same fantastic tour guide I had had two years ago. We had dinner at Flanagan's on O'Connell street which shows up in the Tom Clancy book and movie Patriot Games... this wa sonly after our attempt to eat at the pub in which Patrick Pearse surrendered at the end of the Easter Rising was foiled. Coming back, we stopped off in Bray again and spent the rest of the night chilling at the Y.
Once again on Thursday, the ISPers were in class, so we went on our hiking expedition. Walking through Greystones harbor reminded me of Sam and Frodo returning to the industrialized Shire... "This is worse than Mordor, Mr. Frodo... This is Mordor, Sam." It was sad, but it afforded us the opportunity to meet Liam the Wise Construction Worker. Just a random working man, hauling cement in a wheelbarrow, stopped us and just drenched us in little pearls of wisdom! Such a delightful man! I hope he does that to a lot of people because I feel like there are a lot of people who needed to hear the kind of stuff he had to say more than we did. Appreciate what you've got- your two legs to hike, the weather, your friends. Don't be greedy for more, it'll never satisfy. Friends are the most important thing you've got, never let go. And the like. So we had a bit of beauty before we reached the stunning view of Bray Head and the Cross over Bray and the descent into the town. From there we picked up the DART headed north because Ben had to go to Dublin Airport to pick up Lauren and Kelsie and I went to to hike to cliff walk on Howth Peninsula. On the way there, we found that we had our whole DART car to ourselves and like little kids, we ran around gleefully because there was no one there to look down on us for being foolish. It was great. I had hiked part of the cliffwalk once before with Ben, Kim, Kristin, and Kiira, but we did the Sutton half and missed the incredible cliffs on the far side of the peninsula. It was an exhausting hike, with a good bit of windblown mist in our faces in the latter half, but we made it and barely made it back to Greystones in time to meet Ben and Lauren at the Hungry Monk for our dinner. I had always wanted to go to this ridiculously nice restaurant but it's just out of my price range, so this spring break was my time to splurge. I had the most incredible and tender fall-off-the-bone Wicklow Mountain Lamb. Best way to end a long day of hiking. i was content.
On Friday, I mostly spent the day preparing to go to France that evening. I got my hair cut in anticipation of the lack of showers, I did my laundry, packed, ate lots of food at the Y and sat around reading. I caught my DART to Dublin around three, had a fun time finding the AirLink buses, realized I had to pay extra to bring my checked luggage (stupid RyanAir) and eventually was on my way to Paris that night.
Here are the pics- You can restart the slideshow or just click on the Picasa icon to go straight to the album and preview the pics at your leisure.
Our first week (March 16-21) was spent living in Greystones near the rest of the TU students. We nearly missed the bus from Galway, got stuck in the Bray DART station like usual, but Ben and I were too elated to return to our old home to care much. We were staying not at the YWCA with the rest of the group, but at a small theological college called Carraig Eden. It was really rather like a hostel situation and Ben and I shared a room that had four beds, community showers down the hall. It was so great to sit on the rocks above the waves again and climb down to the beach like I always used to. That night Kelsie and her roommate went out to dinner, so Ben and I headed to the Y to introduce ourselves to the TU crowd and have dinner with them. We got to chat with a number of people we had kind of known from back on campus and it was really nice to chat with other people from our school. Ben and I went out later that night and even bought Tesco 2 litre colas for defenestration, but the guys didn't seem too into it. The Man House had been all refurbished and lacked it's wonderful smell and character, but it was still my old home. The rock doorstops that we named two years ago were still there!
Monday was St. Patrick's Day and so we accompanied the group into Dublin for Mass at the Dublin Pro-Cathedral and the parade, but not before I accidentally got drenched by a wave that literally rose more than fifteen feet from the sea to hit me. I think God was messing with me or something because it was totally impossible for any wave in those conditions to reach me as near to the road as I was. Aaanyway... Dublin was SO jam packed for the parade. As Megan told me later "I wouldn't wish Dublin on Paddy's Day on anyone"... yet we went by choice. The parade was so weird and fantastical with loads of awkward costumes. I didn't even upload most of the pictures; it just wasn't worth it. But! Afterwards, we had a choice of going to a Gaelic Athletic games day in Croke Park or dancing. Kelsie went off with some girls for dancing while Ben and I headed off for some hurling and Gaelic football. Some sweet games and solid pics. Being a separate group from the ISP, we took the liberty of leaving early to go to dinner in Temple Bar, but we had to meet up with Kelsie who by this point was all alone and trying to find us in an unfamiliar city. Poor kid, she did well finding the Millennium Spire, but we're probably not gonna leave her alone much more. We had dinner with a couple girls who had a mutual friend with Ben, then headed back to Bray to explore to Promenade, then back to Greystones to chill at the Y.
Tuesday, we spent the morning hanging out with people at the Y and then in the afternoon, headed off with the group to Glendalough. It was great to return there also, but it's so much prettier in August when I first saw it. Again we split off from the group and did our own little hike, meeting up at the picturesque tree with the huge swooping branch so Kelsie and her roommate could take pictures of each other in front of the lake.
On Wednesday, the ISPers had to go to Irish Lit class with Beulah Baker... not wanting any part of that we fulfilled our duty to Vance and pretty much finished off Kelsie's Irish history class by giving her the grand tour of historical sites in Dublin. We took the Hop on/Hop off bus and saw Trinity College, the Book of Kells, Dublin Castle (which I had never been to before), Christ Church and St. Patrick's Cathedral, as well as Kilmainham Gaol (where we had the same fantastic tour guide I had had two years ago. We had dinner at Flanagan's on O'Connell street which shows up in the Tom Clancy book and movie Patriot Games... this wa sonly after our attempt to eat at the pub in which Patrick Pearse surrendered at the end of the Easter Rising was foiled. Coming back, we stopped off in Bray again and spent the rest of the night chilling at the Y.
Once again on Thursday, the ISPers were in class, so we went on our hiking expedition. Walking through Greystones harbor reminded me of Sam and Frodo returning to the industrialized Shire... "This is worse than Mordor, Mr. Frodo... This is Mordor, Sam." It was sad, but it afforded us the opportunity to meet Liam the Wise Construction Worker. Just a random working man, hauling cement in a wheelbarrow, stopped us and just drenched us in little pearls of wisdom! Such a delightful man! I hope he does that to a lot of people because I feel like there are a lot of people who needed to hear the kind of stuff he had to say more than we did. Appreciate what you've got- your two legs to hike, the weather, your friends. Don't be greedy for more, it'll never satisfy. Friends are the most important thing you've got, never let go. And the like. So we had a bit of beauty before we reached the stunning view of Bray Head and the Cross over Bray and the descent into the town. From there we picked up the DART headed north because Ben had to go to Dublin Airport to pick up Lauren and Kelsie and I went to to hike to cliff walk on Howth Peninsula. On the way there, we found that we had our whole DART car to ourselves and like little kids, we ran around gleefully because there was no one there to look down on us for being foolish. It was great. I had hiked part of the cliffwalk once before with Ben, Kim, Kristin, and Kiira, but we did the Sutton half and missed the incredible cliffs on the far side of the peninsula. It was an exhausting hike, with a good bit of windblown mist in our faces in the latter half, but we made it and barely made it back to Greystones in time to meet Ben and Lauren at the Hungry Monk for our dinner. I had always wanted to go to this ridiculously nice restaurant but it's just out of my price range, so this spring break was my time to splurge. I had the most incredible and tender fall-off-the-bone Wicklow Mountain Lamb. Best way to end a long day of hiking. i was content.
On Friday, I mostly spent the day preparing to go to France that evening. I got my hair cut in anticipation of the lack of showers, I did my laundry, packed, ate lots of food at the Y and sat around reading. I caught my DART to Dublin around three, had a fun time finding the AirLink buses, realized I had to pay extra to bring my checked luggage (stupid RyanAir) and eventually was on my way to Paris that night.
Here are the pics- You can restart the slideshow or just click on the Picasa icon to go straight to the album and preview the pics at your leisure.
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