Return to Paris

So, after returning to Paris, it appears my picture-taking got more sporadic, which is probably best for everyone. Anyway, here are pictures from our trip to the Musee Carnavalet, which is a museum dedicated to the Revolution; our night at the Opera Garnier to see Alcina; and our walking tour from the Place de la Concorde to the Opera Garnier, after which I and several friends headed out into Paris, ending up at the Tuilleries and then, briefly, at the Louvre. The photos are here and here. Video tour lies below:

Here are a couple from inside the Opera Garnier:





And moving from the Tuilleries to the Louvre:









And here is one final one inside the Louvre. This is the entryway to various galleries, and it's fucking awesome. An amazing room full of statues. I could stay here forever, I think, if I had people to fool around with.



All right, almost done. Just a couple more posts to go!

Biarritz (Part 2) - Wanderings and the Musee Asiatica

So, here is the rest of my wandering in Biarritz, which, you will find, eventually conducted me to the Musee Asiatica, whereat I took many, many pictures (a small fraction of which may be seen here and here).

And, in addition, here are some videos:

Here is a good deal of where I was walking in the previous tour, from the beach before the Casino to the Port des Pecheurs:



After taking that video, I turned around and walked into the Eglise St. Eugenie, a beautiful old church. Here is one of those annoying 360s to give you an idea of the environs:



And then here is a cool but shaky video of me walking up to the altar. It was fucking awesome because I was completely alone in this beautiful old church.



I believe it was later that day that I headed out to the beach. By that point, it was starting to get somewhat stormy, though it didn't rain. Nevertheless, the waves rolling in off the ocean were really awesome, especially from afar.



After that, I walked down to the beach in front of the casino and just stood there, watching the waves come in and running back when they leapt up to get me:



A day or more later, I headed to the Musee Asiatica. As you can see, I took a lot of pictures. I thought I also took a lot of videos here, but it turns out, I only took three, and of these, I only posted one, as they were pretty much all of things I took pictures of and were very long tours of their detail. Here is the briefest, of that awesome carved ivory tusk:



And that's it for now! I'll be finishing up Biarritz soon, and then, not long after, Paris. Let me know if anyone should feel he wants to see the rest of the Musee Asiatica videos.

Biarritz (Part 1) - Tour of the Beaches

Start your tour at the lower black dot. This is the direction of my hotel, though it is further south. Heading up the Rue Gambetta, you will eventually reach the first blue dot, which is where I had dinner my first night there. Continuing to the next blue dot, you will be at the location of this video of the beach and the properties along it:



At about 51 seconds in, you can see the Biarritz casino, and starting at 1:25 the fancy hotel that was a chateau or something.

At the third dot, you're at the main entrance to the beach, which is where many of the facebook photos were taken. Finally, at the forth dot, you will be exploring a little cove created by the space under a large rock formation. A view from within:



Obviously, it starts out pointing in the direction of the Porte des Pecheurs and then turns back toward the main beach. There is also a second video, from on top of the rocks, of the peaches and the neighboring port:



Moving along, you will eventually reach the fifth dot at the far side of the Porte des Pecheurs ("Port of [the] Fishermen"), a beautiful port where fishermen still dock and where some of them still reside in ramshackle hillside houses, some of which have, by now, been turned into restaurants and businesses, though. To give you a better idea, here is a video:



Further still, you will reach the sixth blue dot, which is atop a large hill or cliff-face over-looking the ocean. There are many observation platforms here, and it's absolutely gorgeous, and kind of feels like the end of the world. I could almost imagine sailors looking out from here and wondering if there was anything more out there, but perhaps that is revisionist of me. I even lay in a little patch of grass on a hillside here and just contemplated life (and wished my friends were here to see all this with me). Anyway, this is a video of me climbing to the top and then surveying the ocean:



All right, continue along to the seventh and final dot, which is a leveled rock at the end of a long pier called the Rocher de la Vierge ("Rock of the Virgin"). As thought the last thing weren't end-of-the-world-y enough, this goes even further, as the video will evidence. Also be sure to note the statue of the Virgin Mary that gives the outcropping its name.



All right, from here, go back inland and explore at your leisure. I headed to the Musee de la Mer ("Sea Museum," or, basically, an aquarium), though it was unfortunately closed (starting that very day!), so I didn't get to go in. That's where I ended the tour with the red dot, though feel free to explore the city at your leisure. The streets down here are a little less touristy and more old-city, and there are plenty of delicious restaurants and nice little shops. Myself, I got a crepe and struck up a conversation with the nice crepe lady, but you are free to do as you wish. Enjoy!

Biarritz (Part 1) - Tour of the Town

In conjuncture with my Biarritz pictures (part 1) here, here, and here, here is a video tour of the town (a tour of the beaches will soon follow).

Anyway, first, you have to get to Biarritz from Paris. You will do this by taking the TGV (Train de Grande Vitesse, or Train of Big Fastness). Here is a view out the window. You will see it travels at a very big fastness indeed:



Anyway, once you get there, you will see the city. This is a view of the park near the center of the city.



And this is just a view of what the streets look like:



That's it for now; when I get the rest of the beach videos uploaded (yes, there are many, many beach videos), I shall compose a recreation of my beach tour for you.

Horrors of the Art Museum (Part 1)

Pictures.

And videos:

Some hideous installation:



And this awesome installation called "Winter Garden." This is just a view from the door. If you want a too-dark pan around the room, I can post it, too; just ask. The door:

The Sacre Coeur

To compliment the video tour, here is the rest of the pictorial tour:

Voila!

Your Video Tour of Montmartre!

Start your tour by getting off at Metro stop Blanche, above. You'll find yourself in a large square that houses the Moulin Rouge, which is fairly awesome though quite touristy. You won't be able to see a show unless you have a lot of money to blow (most every option is above 100 euro; I believe there might have been some show-and-X-amount-of-drinks option that was like 70), but they have a nice little display out front about their history for the gawkers. Next to this is, amusingly, one of the cheapest things you can find in Paris, a Quick fast food restaurant. I've never had the pleasure of dining in one, unfortunately, but its giant Coca-Cola sign definitely accentuates the Moulin Rouge windmill well. Turning to the right, you will see the boulevard heading off West. This is also filled with sex shops, at least up to Place de Clichy, but I unfortunately didn't get to see this part. Continuing, you will see a sex shop with video cabins, a Buffalo Grill, which was amusing to me in that the first time I was in Paris this girl and I got lost, and all we could remember was that a Buffalo Grill was near our hotel, so we wandered around asking strangers "Ou est le Buffalo Grill." We...weren't too successful. Further on, you will see the Boulevard heading east, which you will become more intimately acquainted with, followed by a big ad for American Gangster (our stupid culture is everywhere). Then you will see a street, the name of which I have unfortunately blued over in the picture, which leads to the Cafe des Deux Moulins, where interiors for Amelie were filmed. Finally, you will see a nice little crepe stand with a yellow awning next to the Quick. I got a delicious hot dog here to start off my adventure.



Following this, head up that street I mentioned next to the yellow-awning place and stop by the Cafe des Deux Moulins. I had a cup of hot chocolate and read Sartre, myself. It was fun. If you have the patience, you can wait to use the Orgasm Bathroom. Personally, I didn't, since it looked really cramped anyway and didn't seem worth it, though in retrospect, I kind of wish I had.

Anyway, from there, return back to the place Blanche and head east down the Boulevard de Clichy. You will be assaulted by assholes tugging at your arm and trying to get you to go in their strip clubs or hire their hookers, so keep up a tough front (it would help to have a friend with you, too). Just shrug them off and say "No merci" as forcefully and repeatedly as necessary to get them to bugger off. Do stop in some of the sex shops, though; they're good times.

Not too far from here, you will eventually arrive at the Museum of Eroticism, which is most definitely worth whatever admission they're charging. Seven floors of dirty, dirty art. It's amazing! Here is a video of one of the sculptures within:



And here is a tour of the 7th floor, which was housing an exhibition by a really fantastic artist. Like a dumbass, I didn't record his name anywhere, but it was really good work - sexy drawings about youthful sexuality at its most playful. Ask me to see the pictures, or maybe I will do the work to find a site where I can actually post them, along with the photos of everything else in the Erotic Museum...



After spending hours upon hours in the Erotic Museum, you may again emerge blinking into the daylight (or into the cool of the night, if you actually really spend hours there) and continue heading east on the Boulevard de Clichy. Eventually, you will reach the Pigalle stop, which is the next one on line 2 of the Metro. From here, head north. The Sacre Coeur should be making itself readily apparent.

Entering the square, you will see a Merry-Go-Round and a lot of guys who will welcome you and try to tie string bracelets around your wrists. Continually refuse their faux-kindness, unless you want to pay whatever exorbitant price they will end up asking you for the bracelet. Bastards.

Continue upward. You will eventually be afforded both a beautiful view of the city and of the basilica:



Explore the basilica. It is pretty. Then, afterward, explore your surroundings:



After you feel you have sufficiently experienced everything, slowly make your way back down the hillside and hop onto the Metro again, where you may head home (or out somewhere else, if you so choose). You've had a long and fulfilling day.

Your Video Tour of the Champs Elysees!

Come follow me on my route of exploration down the Champs Elysees, which it appears I never got around to describing. So, we'll go through it together.

We'll be starting our tour at the world-famous Arc de Triomphe after getting off the Metro at the Charles de Gaulle Etoile stop (Metro line 1). Here is an underview of the Arc:



Along with that, you should take a look at the nightmarish roundabout that surrounds the Arc. While pretty much every street I see makes me glad I don't have to drive in France, this thing really seals the deal:



All right, with that out of the way, we can now move over to the Champs Elysees and begin our tour. Anyway, since you're me, you won't find the thing all that impressive. I mean, it's a nice street and all, but not being particularly impressed by high fashion, you'll find it really doesn't have all that much to offer you. Weeks later, our tourguide, Steve Sawyer, would draw a comparison between the Champs Elysees and Michigan Ave. that would remind me of my original feelings that the two really aren't that different. Anyway, again, being me, you'll stop in a French Virgin Megastore and that's about it. Here's a peek at the street, just a little before you go into the Virgin, right by the George V (line 1) stop, which is also right by Queen, which Matt calls "the straightest gay bar in the world" and the theater where I saw the HD reissue of Suspiria with grossly amped colors one fine Sunday morn. The street:



After all the time you waste in the Virgin (stupid fool!), it will be nighttime by the time you leave. You'll conclude the tour by walking the rest of the way down the Champs Elysees, where you will end at the Place de la Concorde, which was a sight of a lot of revolutionary beheadings but is now mostly a ton of monuments (and a Ferris Wheel) all crammed together into a big square. Here it is at night (there will be other pictures and perhaps videos from the day later):



All right, you've been walking and looking for hours now, and you're fucking tired. Hop on the Concorde Metro stop (line 1--have you figured out it runs down the Champs Elysees yet?) and take that to Chatlet, where you'll transfer to the 11 and be conducted happily home.

Louvre Videos

Here is me exploring the original foundations of the Louvre, of which are also a picture or two in the photo album below. Anyway, they managed to preserve parts of this excavation within the museum itself now, which proved pretty cool.



This is a view of the courtyard taken from one of the windows.



And here is my climbing the main spiral staircase in the lobby thing. It proves pretty impressive.



More to come!

Eiffel Tower

The Musee d'Orsay

This is a video of my favorite room in d'Orsay. Beyond its selection of lovely paintings, I really think the architecture is cool, with the peeks afforded into adjoining rooms and whatnot. Quite awesome. Big paintings, too...

Photos - Louvre, Arc de Triomphe, Place de la Concorde, Moulin Rouge, Erotic Museum

Go.

D'Orsay Photos

d'Orsay.

The Rest of the Versailles Photos

And the rest of the photos may be viewed here.

Versailles Videos 2

Well, since Matt said he liked these stupid videos, I will put all of them up from now on. Lord help us all. Here is the rest of Versailles:

My Room

I've been a terrible blogger. Anyway, it's 4:30 in the morning, so I'm not going to try to catch you up at the moment, but I will throw this up for your benefit and amusement, because I realized I never really gave you a tour of my surroundings. God, looking back, I wish I'd video-blogged like this since the beginning. It feels so much more expressive. Now I just need to get some editing equipment, and I could really rock people's socks off. Anyway, the last-day tour of my room:

Comme C'est Brutal

Well, Thursday evening's delightful wine and writing got, typically, out of hand, leading to the single-handed consumption of the entire bottle of Beaujolais and lengthy and ridiculous gchat discourses before a healthy bedtime of 5 am.

Anyway, unfortunately my plan of then rising at 8:30 the next morning did not go so well. I woke up at 11:45, with my usual morning-after start of horror, generally accompanied by a clawing for the alarm clock to see how fucking late I slept in this time. Anyway, relatively, 11:45 isn't all that bad, though, of course, since I had a corrector session at 10:45, it was quite late enough. I quickly sprung from my bed and to the computer, where I sent an apologetic email to my correctrice, accompanied by a copy of my plan. Since people have sent in entire papers many days late, I figured the chances were probably pretty good of her being able to manage looking over one spacey page of text and writing a few lines of reaction. Then I returned to the warm-ish confines of my too-thin bedspread and slept until 1.

I awakened again and took a shower and whatnot, then checked my email. Indeed, she had responded with a very quick thumbs-up, which was fucking good enough for me. Nothing from Sawyer, though, still.

There was also a cordially stern email from the receptionist, telling me I should send my plan to the girl and reminding me that corrector sessions are important and not to miss the next one. I wrote back with, basically, a polite version of "Whoops; I overslept. No shit they're important. I already send her the goddamn outline." The receptionist nicely emailed back and said that Steve Sawyer had also received my outline, and would be emailing me shortly. This comforted me.

Anyway, I dove into the paper (actually, I didn't really start it till around five, as I did some eBaying, a lot of forum browsing, and basically anything else I could think of to delay the starting of the paper) and got a surprising amount (maybe a quarter to a third) done by 7, when I had to leave to go to the movies. (I HAD to!)

Taking in an 80s American horror double feature at the Cinematheque Francaise was indeed quite relaxing, and, in its way, just what I needed, kind of like that delightful weekend first quarter of first year when Steve and I stopped crying over our math homework in the library and went to Doc to see The 40 Year Old Virgin). I was also surprised how much of the films I understood, their being dubbed in French. All in all, it was quite delightful, and I hope to eventually address it over at the other, neglected blog, soon.

Returning home, I stayed up till 5, but managed to get the fucking paper done. It bears noting that I was surprised how easily the ideas flowed once I managed the Herculean task of cobbling them together in my brain. Structures I didn't even know I knew came flying back to me, and everything expressed itself with a great deal more eloquence, on the whole, then I am accustomed to. Perhaps this program is indeed getting me at least a little better in French.

Anyway, exhausted, I retired, and woke up at 1:00 this morning, after my recoup. After my shower, I produced an omelet that I was fairly proud of, in addition to some fried potatoes that, while better than many batches that had come before, were still lacking something. Also, I think I put too much pepper on them, because my stomach became angry. Anyone out there want to teach me how to make those roasted breakfast potatoes?

Rereading the paper I was either very satisfied or very apathetic, because I didn't do too much to it. Not that I had all that much time before the deadline at 6. Following that, I did some brief shopping, then met up with my friends Brian and Rosemary to go out for seafood. We went to a nice little oyster bar by the Opera Garnier and Pyramides, where we each got the Plat Atlantique, which came with a lot of shellfish that I didn't know what they were. I had my first oysters, which were quite pleasant, though interesting. We also wanted to try sea urchin, but they were out. Poop. Nevertheless, it was a good - if expensive - meal, though I have to say, I generally prefer meals where I am full afterward to ones where I eat like seven shellfish. Nevertheless, it was a fun experience, and the seafood was quite fresh. You could tell because it squirmed if you put Tabasco on it.

After that, we went to a jazz club by St. Michel, in the Quartier Latin. It was crowded, but pretty cool. The band was good, and the lady liked to scream really loud as she was singing. I had been expecting more of that Humanities-style stuff (I guess that's what I think of when I think of jazz), which, while I guess is fine, is not really something I'm all that into. This was much more engaging for me, though, since it was full of screaming, so I enjoyed it a fair bit. Nevertheless, that typically annoying thing happened where the singer was trying to engage with the audience and get us to stand up and dance and stuff. I'm sorry, I do not go to musical events (actually, I generally don't go to them at all, but when I do) to be guilted. I go to sit and listen to you perform. Perhaps this is unique of me.

Nevertheless, they were a good band, and it was an enjoyable time, though my ears are still ringing, I have a headache, and am incredibly tired. I'm drinking diet Coke now, so there should be no danger of a repeat of two nights ago, and I should be going to bed right after I finish this. I'd like to try to catch the new HD reissue of Suspiria tomorrow, but it's only playing at 11. Crap.

The Beaujolais Nouveau is here!

Indeed, is it ever.

Those signs are up all over Paris now; these people really seem to have a fetish for Beaujolais Nouveau. Which is understandable. I just cracked open a bottle myself, and holy hell does it go down smooth. My hat is off. Anyway, with any luck, it will act as my muse and allow me to quickly and entertainingly run through recent events, yet again.

The week progressed agonizingly. Class is at least engaging with Sawyer, but still of little interest to me, and I honestly don't have it in me to continue on with these readings. I'm muddling through, but I'm really glad I only have a week left. I just have no more energy.

I went to two Pasolini movies in the span of two days this week, which was like a veritable cinegasm for me. The theater in which they play, the Accattone, is located right by the Sorbonne (did I mention this already), so I'm starting to become quite acquainted with it and its various surrounding cafes and tabacs in the square before it, along the Boulevard St. Michel.

In other news, the Boulevard St. Michel is definitely now one of my favorite streets, along with Boulevard de Clichy (though nowhere near as skeezy). It is lined with fucking amazing cinemas, great cafes, and even a giant used book and DVD store, in addition to running right past the Sorbonne and the Jardin de Luxembourg. I think I could honestly just live in the Latin Quarter and never leave, and pretty much be satisfied with my life. On that note, it's unfortunate that this program is so steadfast in its desire to make me want to end it.

Anyway, I've been trying to cram in shit outside of class. (It should also be noted that I just outright skipped class last Tuesday, because I'm just fucking tired.)

Wednesday I went to the Louvre, since it's open till 9 (instead of the usual 6) on Wednesdays and Fridays. I got there at like 4, and was naively thinking I could spend a good 5 hours wandering its halls. Um, no. I got tired after like 2. Honestly, I'm sure being underslept and overworked had a great deal to do with that, too, and if I came on a weekend or something well-rested, I could surely get through a lot more. Nevertheless, the sheer volume of the place is utterly mind-boggling, and I very quickly gave up my standard procedure of looking at ever piece and reading its plaque. Soon after, I also very quickly gave up my foolish notion of seeing the whole museum. After the aforesaid 2 hours, I stumbled out in an exhausted daze, resolving to regroup, determine what I want to see specifically, and then come back next week.

Today was even more exciting. Though perhaps I should go back in time to preface.

Anyway, Wednesday's office hours proved a fiasco. My plan was rejected outright because I basically just reworded the essay prompt as my problematique (a French thesis, which comes in the middle of the introduction and is uselessly posed in the form of a question via pompous, over-inflated language structures that continually repeat themselves), my plan was pretty much rejected outright. This isn't necessarily the worst thing, because most teachers are, by that point, so carried away with their critique that they basically write a new outline for you that they're sure to love because they wrote it. Which is basically what happened. Nevertheless, it was still a little tough for me to figure out, and I spent that night sitting in my room agonizing over trying to write a new plan. I finished it the next day (today, Thursday), and was vaguely satisfied. I emailed it to him. I've yet to get a response. Either he's a real slacker of the email is wrong. Either way, irritation. I guess I'll just have to bring it in blind to the corrector session tomorrow. Perhaps that's better...

Anyway, after that I headed out with the intention of going to La Defense, the built-up part of the city, which is supposed to be pretty cool, from what the other people in the group have said. But first, I stopped in the Jewish quarter to try l'As du Falafel, which everyone seems to recommend. And justly so, like the Beaujolais Nouveau (I will be a poet yet!). It was fucking delicious. Nevertheless, I also missed Pita Inn falafels. Good memories. But this was brilliant. Delicious sauces and humuses as toppings, and not a rancid scrap of iceberg lettuce in sight. Cabbage all the way! Now here are people that understand! It's about flavor!

Anyway, as I was waking around the Marais looking at how pretty it was (it's basically postcard old-style Paris, which narrow streets lined with shops selling clothes and delicious foods, full of amazing sights and smells), I ran into Nick, one of my favorite people from the program, who was looking for some friends of his that were supposed to call him. He was also looking for tabacs, because he wanted to buy all of these collector's Gallouis cigarette packs (even though he doesn't smoke; he just likes the packages), but very few seemed to have them. Anyway, I ended up wandering around with him instead of going to La Defense, but we had quite the day.

Anyway, we wandered until we basically got to St. Michel. We then headed down the boulevard, and eventually got to Cluny, where, unbeknownst to me, there is apparently a museum. We subsequently entered.

It was pretty cool, this mysterious Cluny Museum. It's dedicated to medieval shit, and it's built over ruins of Roman baths. Anyway, basically all the art is various pictures of Christ dying and Mary holding a baby that usually has had its head accidentally broken off by now, but there's also a famous tapestry of a woman and a unicorn that was quite a marvel to behold (though it would have surely been moreso had there not been a tour group of little children sitting in front of it hearing a lecture). Anyway, we went through the museum a little quicker than I might have liked (Nick thinks he might have ADD), but it's usually better I go with someone, otherwise I spend way too long in places.

Following that, we walked a little further down the boulevard, past the Sorbonne and the Accattone (!), and looked around in the Jardin de Luxembourg. We then decided to head back, and searched about for a metro stop, though eventually ended up sneaking onto the RER, which is basically like the Chicago Metra, except also run my the metro (if those slight letter and capitalization distinctions make things clear).

Anyway, I ended up getting off at St. Michel again, after all that, because I wanted to go to the aforementioned book and DVD store. It was pretty awesome. They had a lot of 20 centime books out front, though none of them really caught my fancy. I did get some real steals for 80 centimes, though--some book of short stories by a famous Chinese writer (I always try to get writings by modern Asian authors because there seem to be so few of them in translation and I think it quite interesting to get a different--i.e. eastern--perspective on what literature is); Joy and Joy and Joan, two (as far as I can tell), trashy sex novels that were subsequently adapted into movies with Brigitte Lahaie (albeit not hardcore, unfortunately); and a compendium of the 4th through 6th volumes of Clive Barker's Books of Blood (which, rereading the first three, from my youth and which I thought comprised the entire series, I am actually not all that impressed by, though I still bought the collection because I never new it existed and nostalgia compelled me to finish the series). I also looked at some DVDs, but decided to go home and do some research on American availability before making any commitments (the knowledge that my dad has finally bought me a multi region DVD player for Christmas has finally opened up my viewing world!).

Anyway, it was an utterly satisfying day, but utterly exhausting. Thankfully, there was still more to be done, and, after a quick pit stop at the dorm to drop off my things and, um, relieve myself, I headed out to Belleville for conversation section, where we were going to a Chinese restaurant.

Anyway, it was less Chinese than vaguely southeast Asian (kind of like Noodles, though of course better), but it was still good. I got a little spring-roll thing for an appetizer (the thing with the gelatinous, opaque shell), which was all right, though had a hint of mint that didn't agree with me (I hate hints of mint). My dinner was vermicelli noodles with beef and various vegetables, which was good, though for some reason lettuce, my enemy of all enemies, was included in the dish. Quelle horreur. Nevertheless, I soldiered through with hot sauce, which makes anything endurable, and it was a fairly pleasant meal overall. (And relatively cheap, and fresh cooked, which I had been sorely missing. Nevertheless, the first thing I'm doing when I get back is getting a big plate of General Tso's Chicken, or something greasy and Sino-American like that.)

Following that, I returned to the dorm and wrote postcards and this blog and drank my beaujolais nouveau, and talked to people online. Now it's getting quite late, though I do get to get up a half hour later tomorrow. Yay! Still, I'd better be getting to bed, so I'll sign off, but those are my current happenings.

Little more than a week until I get home. I cannot wait to see you all again!

whatever else has happened

I'm losing track of what I've written since the last time, so I'll just quickly run down my further adventures.

Paper #4 is turned in successfully. I believe I told you guys the corrector girl was really nice and made my day. The greve withered away and was officially ended rather recently. Thursday we went to the Opera for Thanksgiving. I don't believe I covered this. It was awesome. It was called Alcina, and was about this woman and her sister, Morgan, who are witches and live on an island. The woman, Alcina, likes bewitching handsome men into falling in love with her (and, really, who wouldn't?), but when she gets tired of them, she turns them into animals or inanimate objects. Into her milieu bumbles this adventurer guy, whom she bewitches, and soon his wife shows up in drag, looking for him. Much intrigue ensues before the husband is rescued and Alcina and her powers are destroyed.

Since everyone in France likes to strike, the opera tech crew was on strike, too, so apparently the play was missing a good deal of its pomp. Nevertheless, it still seemed pretty awesome to me. The staging was, of course, a little flat, since a good deal of the effects and razzle-dazzle was missing, but that was all right, as it just seemed minimalist; and, besides, being a Tsai Ming-Liang fan, I had no problem dealing with a little dryness. I thought the mounting was beautiful, though. To a large extent, the play was lit through a large side door, which created interesting and strong shadow lines and gave the whole thing a bit of a noirish feel. Besides that, though, it seemed consistently like an add in Vogue or something, with beautiful bodies moving languorously through opulent settings full of billowing curtains and whatnot. Also, all the men who had been transformed into various objects where crawling around in various states of undress. As Steve Sawyer would say, "c'est pas mal, ca!" Every play should have frontal male nudity.

Anyway, Friday we took a tour around the Place de la Concorde and the opera house, and I took pictures that would help me illustrate what I want to tell you, and which I assume I will get up later, in some form or another. I'm really starting to get a backlog.

After that, I wandered around with a few people and we ended up going to a cafe and getting drinks and the most delicious creme brulee that I've ever had. Following that, I returned to the dorm and finished up work on the paper, in addition to looking up horribles videos online in a disgusting video contest with Steve which ended in my computer getting spyware and needing to be system restored. Sigh... I finally got the paper in at 5 in the morning.

Because of that, I ended up scrapping my plans to go to the Louvre the next day, and instead slept in. I decided I could go to Pompidou in the evening, but somehow I was cursed and could not tear myself away from my computer. Finally around 8 I tried to go out and get some dinner, but I could not get out because of this African wedding or something. I don't know what it was, but there were all these African people there in traditional garb. Ostensibly their party was in the community room or whatever, but they were all milling about the lobby, too, which is fine, I guess. What is NOT fine, however, is deciding that you will take all your photos in the ONE DOORWAY leading into and out of the dormparment, and then ignoring anyone who is trying to push his way through you. Good lord, how can people be so oblivious sometimes?

Anyway, I retreated to my room for a while longer to let that sort itself out, and I made myself a delightful mustard chicken concoction and I enjoyed heartily. I then headed out to try to catch the new reissue of Suspiria on the Champs Elysees (how amazing is that?!), but after getting all the way there, I ended up being 3 fucking minutes late and not going on because I didn't want to miss anything. I could return, I figured. I went home, sadly, and watched Pasolini's Oedipus Rex on my computer, because I wanted to see an English-subbed version before going to see it in the theater on Monday.

I neglected to mention that I ran into my friend Bryan as I was heading out to the movie, and we eventually ended up setting a date to go to Pompidou the next day. And that we did. It was probably a good thing he was there with me, too, or I would have compulsively looked a every piece of artwork, no matter how crappy it was. His irritation rushed me through it faster, so that I didn't end up spending an hour staring at funny-shaped chairs.

Following that, we bummed around for a while, going to cafes and walking about, until we finally had dinner in the Latin Quarter. I had this amazing steak and fries, and he had this atrocious veal liver. Scarring. I felt bad for him, particularly considering what he paid.

Back at the dorm, I ended up staying up ridiculously late looking up reviews of Turkish cult movies online. I finally went to bed around 4 and fell asleep around 5 (thinking about Turkish cult movies actually gets me really, really wound up), so I was crazy tired this morning. Nevertheless, I soldiered through class, like a good little boy.

Following that, I went home and had a nap, then headed out and saw Oedipus Rex at the Accattone. It was a delightful experience, and I think this is quickly becoming one of my favorite Pasolinis.

Following that, I headed to a cafe and get a creme brulee (since the last one had been so good), and, after that, a glass of wine, while I spent several hours doing my reading. I have to say, it actually gets done when I don't do it in front of the computer. Also, when I skim it very quickly because it is some bullshit memoir that has nothing to do with anything, least of all being interest.

I headed back around 12, planning to do more blogging and writing (of blogs and letters) that I actually did (just this), before (it looks like) going to bed around 3:15.

assorted 8th week events

Tuesday was nowhere near a Supergreve. In fact, thing were running pretty smoothly. I think they're still fucked up on other lines, but the 11, mine, was fine, as the 14, the other one I need, is also always golden because it's automated.

This would have annoyed me, since I headed out like an hour or more before our rendezvous for the field trip we were taking to the Musee Carnavalet, except that I met some other people from my group at the train station and they invited me to brunch with them, so I had something to do (and something delicious to eat).

We went to this restaurant right by the museum called Breakfast in America. It was this little hole-in-the-wall, but boy was it delightful. Its conceit is that it's "just like" (well, almost) an American diner. Our waitress, this nice young woman, spoke perfect American English (I assume she was American), and the menu was in English and had delicious American things on it, many of which are quite hard to find here. The table had ketchup waiting on it, and it was all just very delightful. I got myself a breakfast burrito and home fries. Delight. They even made us tip. I have never felt so good about paying extra money.

Anyway, the museum was pretty cool. It was a Revolutionary museum, so there were a lot of paintings from the time of the revolution and little ivory-carved guillotines and models of the Bastille and shit. We got another typically amazing tour from Steve Sawyer, and then were released. Unfortunately, I still had to go to the center for a correction session, but since that wasn't until 5:15 (which made it doubly a nuisance), I went home and corrected my paper before going to the center.

The correction was nice. This lady is much better and actually corrects grammar instead of doing a half-assed job, then whining about the paper's structure as a whole, which is not the corrector's sphere. I also got to have fun being a suck-up, because I'm like the only person who wrote this 4th paper, since it was due during break. Apparently a lot of people still haven't turned something in. I hate to say it, but I hope it shows in their grades. I mean, it's kind of irritating actually doing all the work and then ending up doing about as well as anyone else anyway.

Anyway, following that, I went to see a movie in the Latin Quarter, but got the theater wrong and so did not see the movie, but did make a big ass out of myself at the wrong theater. Also, I burned my mouth and tongue wolfing down a kebab sandwich beforehand, rushing to the movie that wasn't there. Stupid fresh-off-the-spitted-ness.

It was better anyway, though, as I could study for my test the next day.

The Next Day

Loooooong day. Class, then grammar class, then 3-hour midterm. Ugh. The annoying part was the "correct these paragraphs" section. I always hate stuff like that, because you have no idea how much to correct. I mean, I could sit there all day changing shit around. Blugh. Nevertheless, getting out, I felt that comforting and familiar post-scary-test liberation, and that was good.

What was not good was that this joy I felt led me to basically not do any of my homework. Actually, I guess it wasn't that bad. But I had less of an idea what was going on in class today. (Good lord, was that test only yesterday?!)

Anyway, class today was class, and then we were out of school, which was nice. I like getting out at 12:30. There was a little reception in the library with wine and dessert and hors d'oeuvres. It was tasty, though basically consisted of all the hors d'oeuvres we were given at the reception on the first day, so it was a bit of an acid flashback. I suppose it always is, when you ruminate on how periods of meeting new people start out. As much as you want to try to stop it and have things follow some sort of more orderly order, it nevertheless always proceeds in the same, chaotic fashion: you go around introducing yourself to everyone, make some friends and hang out with random people, and then after a few weeks, everything completely turns on its head, and the people you were seeing in the first few weeks all form their own groups and you end up with a completely new set of friends and look at the people you were hanging out with originally and can't believe you were spending time with them. I kind of hate the predictability of this, but it's bizarre how well it holds fast. That was something annoying about the trip, too: it was basically like 1st year all over again: new school, new friends, new city (well, not completely the first time, but this time). And now that I'm sick of half the people here, it's funny to look back on those days when we were all friends.

Anyway, digression. To digress again, I think perhaps the reason I'm feeling a little alienated from all these people is the smallness of the group. I mean, it's basically just been about 22 people for the last 8 weeks; I think I'm kind of getting cabin fever. Nevertheless, some gems have come out of the woodwork, so it's not so bad. Just a thought.

Anyway, following that, I headed home and promptly took a nap, because, with a 4-hour opera ahead of me this evening, I knew I would need to be well-rested.

Anyway, the nap was insanely refreshing, and the subsequent opera was amazing. The mise-en-scene was a little dry because there were no real special effects because all the fucking technicians were striking (let's do a quick count here of who is striking in France right now: transit workers, students, fucking theater tech crews...basically, it appears, everyone but me...), but it was still amazing just the same. The set design was typically spectacular, and was lit through this gaping door in a great noirish way. The play also included male frontal nudity, so it earned lots of bonus points there, too.

Anyway, now I am back, and finishing some delicious, buttery pasta I just cooked. I think I'm going to finish up Pasolini's Oedipus Rex, then head to bed. All we have tomorrow is a field trip with Steve Sawyer, so I can sleep in a little, though I don't think I will as much as I could; I hear there's good produce markets in Belleville on Fridays, so I'd like to check one of those out beforehand.

Super-greve

In France, this is the poster for Superbad. It may strike you as similar to another country's poster for Superbad. But I won't tell you which one.

*Note: In French, "grave" means "bad, but in a good way." It is pronounced gr-AH-v.

As any decent human being will also know, in French "grève" means "strike," which is exactly what the entire fucking transit system is doing.

But that's not important. What is important is that you come see this film, coming shortly to a theater near you.

My apologies, by the way, because I think the accent looks, after the fact, like it is going the wrong way. As you can see, it's pointed on the right tip, but joining it with the E proved to be too much for my brain to handle, and so it kind of looks like it says "soo-pehr-gray-v." I think we'll live...

Anyway, with that out of the way, now I can tell you my story.

Yesterday I took a taxi to the train station at around 11. It was three hours before my 2:42 train, admittedly, but the hotel's exit time was 11, so I figured I might as well just go to the train station and get some work done.

Arriving at the station, not knowing what the situation would be, I found the place rather deserted. There was a small sheet of paper posted with information, and it stated that because of the grève (they keep calling it a "mouvemente sociale," which fucking pisses me off because it's not a social movement, it's just a small population of angry miscreants ruining life for everyone), there would only be three trains running today (people are free to work or not work, you see, so while the system is crippled, there are usually at least a few trains on any line). The first had been by Biarritz at like 8:30, so that was a lost cause, and the next one wasn't until 5:48. Fuuuuuuck...

Anyway, after briefly believing that I would stay at the train station for the remaining 6 or 7 hours, I was finally convinced by my friendly cab driver (who even came in to help me decipher the chart, or, rather, confirm my dechipherings of it) to go back to the village, since there would actually be shit to do there. So, I spent the next six hours in a bar, and did actually get to finish those novel corrections after all, in addition to my class reading and my course packet.

Around 4:45 I returned to the station, just to be safe, since I had forgotten what time after 5 the train was arriving, and then I waited there for an hour for the 5:48 train. I had a shitty, microwaved quiche in the station's bar and wrote a couple letters. Finally, I boarded the train and it was pretty smooth sailing, though slow, since the train had to make more intermittent stops since, probably, the trains running those stops had been shut down. All in all, it was a six hour ride back to Paris, and I managed to 1) read all of Sartre's Huit Clos (No Exit), 2)watch half of Pasolini's Oedipus Rex, 3) read the first letter (it's written in letters) of Sade's Aline et Valcour, in French, before becoming tired of reading still more French (and of Sade's propensity for using forms of the subjunctive that I am unfamiliar with) before 4) sleeping.

I arrived in Paris at around 11:45, and quickly rushed through the station to the Metro, feeling like Jessica Harper in Suspiria. Anyway, as I was quickly wending my way through the vast, vast, vast bowels of the Montparnasse train station, I heard a little voice on the intercom say that the next train in the direction I was headed on the line I was taking would be there in two minutes. I immediately bolted, and managed to just get to the train in time, dashing between the doors as they were shutting. Good thing, too, as the next train was in 36 minutes. That would have put me in an even better mood.

Anyway, I got to Chatlet, the station where much of my transferring takes place, and was pretty confident that I would be able to catch the (at worst) last train back to my dorm's neighborhood, since it was only like 12:10 and the line is only like a half-hour long. Nevertheless, when I worked my way through the entirety of the station, I came to find, arriving at my platform, that there were, presumably, no trains left, since the entrance was being blocked with candy-cane-striped warning tape.

I wandered around for a while after that, trying to figure out what to do. Could I take the 7 to the 7b and get off relatively close to my dorm? Probably not, since that required a transfer. Perhaps...

Anyway, after wandering to the seven and being told something by some guy in some Slavic language that I didn't understand (why would he do this? what are the chances I speak his crazy language?), I eventually gave up and exited, figuring I could add to the morning's 30+ Euros in cab fare with another good 20, at least.

As I wandered around the square, trying to figure if there was a bus route that would take me where I needed to go while looking for cabs, this Indian guy and this British guy passed me, and I heard them talking (in English) about getting to exactly the place I was going to. I rushed after them and asked if they were indeed going there, and they were, and I joined them in their quest. They were going to wait for the night bus line, the Noctibus, which I had discounted since I figured it only started running after 1, when the Metro closes, and it was only around 12:15 at this point. Nevertheless, after waiting at the stop for a few minutes, shivering in the rain and bitching to each other, we were delighted to see one of the buses that would take us where we needed to go pull up, and we quickly fought our way through the crazed throngs swarming onto it and got some seats.

Anyway, I got back about 1:30, UNHAPPY, and unpacked my stuff and ate my McDonald's dinner (I got the thing on the menu designed to appeal to the French--it's called a 280, I think because supposedly it is possible to top it in 280 different ways), and it was actually pretty good--a burger on cibatta with tomato and mayo and ketchup and whatnot. It is also worth noting that, because I was so frustrated and tired, I super-sized it, or whatever, which produced a side of fries and a Coca-Lite that were about the size of US mediums. Oh France...

Anyway, the only thing that pleased me was the arrival of these lobby cards I ordered. When I get around to putting them up (yup, I start decorating 8th week), I will put up pictures. They're quite awesome.

Anyway, the next day I figured I would have to wake up at least an hour earlier to fight the grève to get to school, which was not a pleasant thought, considering it was already 2:30. I set my clock for 7 and went to be around 3, though found that I absolutely could not sleep. At 5 I finally reached the decision to skip the first day of the last mini-quarter in the morning (shocking!) and just go to grammar class in the afternoon. Then I got to wake up at 10. Yay.

The system wasn't so bad at lunchtime, when I went. There was a train about every 11 minutes on the line through my neighborhood, line 11, and then the 14, which gets you the rest of the way to school, is always running because it's the computer-automated one. If you ask me, France should see to computer-operating all of these lines. If the fucking workers hate to work so much, take that horrible burden away from them.

Anyway, apparently tomorrow is going to be worse, for some obscure cultural reason that I don't understand. I don't know if it's the particular day and things are just lining up poorly or if it's actually related to this strike, but whatever the case, apparently like everyone is striking, so we started calling it the "Supergrève," and now we've come, with regards to topic, full circle.

Fuck you, France. Fuck you hard. Get your shit together.

Biarritz 5 / Fucking Strike

Today I took easier. I had planned to sit in a cafe and reread my novella, which is what I ended up doing. First, though, I had a nice lunch of fresh sea mussels and fries at the same place I had the snails. It was fucking delicious. They were in this butter sauce, and plump and tender, and it was delightful; and the fries were fresh-fried and golden and glistening with oil and salt, and when you dipped them in the butter sauce....mmmmmm...

There was also the cutest dog in the world at the restaurant, and I got to pet it. Yay.

Following that, walking down the street, I spied a table with used paperbacks, and I got some totally ridiculous stuff. I got two horror novels from a series called GORE with really lurid cover illustrations, and a copy of Therese and Isabelle (I'm assuming, by the sexy cover, that the Metzger movie of the same name is based on it) and a present for someone. Wheeeee!

Then I went to the lovely bar across from the Biarritz garden, got a 50 cl carafe of wine, and sat down with my computer for three hours. Unfortunately, I only got through about half of my story, and, what's more, the 50 cl of wine proved to be waaaaay too much. I kind of had to chug it all at the end once my battery died.

Anyway, at this point I went back to the hotel to recharge the computer and get the plug converter, which I always fucking forget when taking my power cord, in case I found another bar later that had an outlet.

Anyway, following that, I went to the restaurant where I had the veal the other day and had...veal again. But with other stuff, 'cause I got the 15 euro dinner! It also came with mind-blowing fresh fried (and fresh-fried) calamari and a warm basque cake for dessert. All in all, delicious. Too bad I forgot my fucking wallet at the hotel and had to leave my backpack as collateral while I ran back to get it.

Following that, I took in a showing of David Cronenberg's Eastern Promesses (or "Promesses of the Storm," as it's known here), which was quite excellent and may be addressed eventually at Faits Precis. I then looked around at the bars to see if any looked like they were lively enough for me to sit and finish correcting my novella, but they all looked like they were dying down (at 11:30!), so I just went back to the hotel. This was probably best, in the end, as it allowed me to get my things in readiness for my departure tomorrow.

And that brings me to my grievance: the fucking strike. It's been almost a week now, and it's still going on. Apparently only about 1/3 of the trains to Paris are running, so I'm really hoping that everything goes according to plan tomorrow and things aren't too fucking difficult. I just want to get home. What a bunch of tools. Everyone is a tool. Die.

And that's it. This has been a delightful and relaxing vacation, and I am sad to see it go. Wish I'd gotten a little more time to do ex-pat things in cafes with wine, but I guess it's better I got to see the city, with which I now feel intimately acquainted. Yay. Perhaps one day I shall come back in spring or summer, when it will really be humming. Woo Biarritz!

Biarritz 4

It's starting to get an air of sameness about it, but that's ok, because it's relaxing. Today I headed out and got lunch at a nice cafe. I had veal and mashed sweet potatoes and a beer, and it was quite tasty. Following that, I headed back to the Oriental Museum for my second day, which I spent in the China-Nepal-Tibet room. All in all, it took me about three hours to look at the fucking room, and it was exhausting, but it was also extremely fun and interesting. Since there was a new guard on duty today, I recommenced taking clandestine pictures and, by not getting so carried away this time (I think the guy probably saw me on the security camera last time when I was in the middle of taking a four-minute video), I was able to not get yelled at.

Anyway, after all that interestingness, I bought my dad a book as a souvenir/present/thank-you for financing my trip, and then I headed to a boulangerie where I sat and had a basque tarte while going through all the pictures I took. All in all, it appears I took like 375 in the museum. I like to take pictures.

Following that, I bought myself more wine and then returned to my room briefly, to wait an hour or so before the dining hour.

I'm starting to run out of new restaurants I want to try. One thing about this town is that it's crawling with pizza places, and pizzas are substantially cheaper than most of the other items on the menu (i.e., in the single-digit price-range). Nevertheless, I don't fucking want pizza. I'm sick of it. Just as I was about to give in and go to some Italian place for a formula meal that, while not pizza, was still not quite what I wanted, I found some pan-asian restaurant and decided that that suited my tastes better. I ended up getting fried squid, Thai-style, along with a Thai beer the name of which currently escapes me (it was Tsing-something, but not Tsingtao, because that's Chinese, and, I have decided, preferable). Anyway, typically of this country, nothing comes with anything, and so white rice had to be ordered separately. I demand to know how they can justify charging 1.60 euro for white rice. I demand it. Nevertheless, at least the food was cooked to order, unlike every other fucking asian restaurant I've been to here. That in itself was worth a little more, and it felt like home, despite the minuscule portions and ricely stinginess. I've got to say, in many ways, I miss American food.

Anyway, I've kind of run out of shit to do, so I just went home. Besides, walking home, it appeared that there was some sort of rugby or soccer game or something on tonight or something, so there was really very little I could have done. I could have gone to see Eastern Promises (or "Eastern Shadows," back-translated), but I decided to save that for tomorrow, my last night here, where I hope to perhaps go back to that amazing restaurant for my final dinner and then to treat myself to a movie.

Anyway, I returned home and took to my computer for a bit. Wonderfully, though, I discovered a documentary on Tony Jaa on Canal+, so I ended up watching that and drinking wine. Pas mal, ca. What a vacation.

(Be sure to scroll down for videos.)

Versailles Videos

Here are a couple of views of rooms in Versailles. The first is some random room with a really cool ceiling:



And then here is a pan around Marie Antoinette's room:



I'm not really sure what's going on here. Perhaps this is for when she didn't want to sleep with Louis, or perhaps they didn't sleep together and he only came and visited when they wanted to try to make a little prince or something. I'm not sure. What I do know, however, is that there are a bunch of seats in front of the bed, and they are for places for people to sit during birthings, so make sure there is no tomfoolery going on with the switching of babies or anything like that. Delightful.

Let me know via comment if you guys like these at all. They're supposed to give you an idea of the places I'm visiting and hopefully make you feel like you're "there." If that's not happening, though, and you just consider them stupid, then I'll stop putting them up. I don't know, I like them, so I'm glad I took them, but if no one else needs them, then I won't bother in the future to put them up on youtube. Let me know.

Biarritz posting in come in a minute (like your mom).

Biarritz 3 / Versailles photos

Today I woke up later than I expected because I set my alarm for 12:00 AM instead of 12:00 PM. Whoops. Whatever.

After a pleasant shower and whatnot, I headed out and got lunch at a burger place, since I am growing tired of spending like 15 euro on lunch and I kind of wanted American food again. The burger was good, though I keep forgetting that "bacon" here means something quite different than in America. I miss our strips.

Anyway, following that, I browsed a bookstore, then went and looked around the Oriental Museum. It was pretty good, and very thorough. With the 5 euro admission, you get a 30-page book with lengthy descriptions. I spent like 2 hours in one room, just going through all the Indian art and reading about it. It was quite interesting, and I spent so long, in fact, that the museum was closing as I was about to look at the more "asian" oriental art. The guy at the desk was super nice, though, and signed me ticket with a little note so I could get back in tomorrow and see the rest without having to pay. That was quite sporting of him, particularly after he caught me taking photos on the sly. I think he was just so gratified to find someone interested and who didn't breeze through the museum in 7 minutes....

Anyway, after that, I came back to my hotel room and, waiting for dinner, finally put up my Versailles photos. They may be viewed here.

Following that, I went to a nice little pizzeria in the lower village because I had seen, walking around before, that they had cheap snails, and I was really craving snails. Well, my snails came out in the shell, and with these weird little tong things with which I was supposed to grip them while ripping them out of the shell with a little fork. I sat there fumbling around for a while, until finally the guy came back and showed me how to do it, and he and the entire restaurant (what seven people were in there, which is about average, it appears, at this time of year) laughed at me (or, perhaps, with me). Anyway, it was vaguely embarrassing, but fun.

Anyway, the pizza was pretty good, but I was just happy to have had my snails.

During the dinner, I became pretty caught up in a police thriller on TV, and so did the people running the restaurant, I guess, because they just kept watching and I had to eventually beg them for my bill. I paid and left, and by then it was almost ten and quite a cold walk back to the hotel. Back there, I turned on the TV to find the end of the police thriller playing. It ended...crappily.

The rest of the evening was spent in writing and trying to research multiregion DVD players; good times. I will try to get my Versailles videos up soon, perhaps even now. It should be noted, however, that hardcore porn is playing on Canal+, so I'm kind of getting distracted by that...

Biarritz 2

I woke up late today, because I had been drinking and writing the night before, as had been my plan. After a leisurely shower, I headed out, and ended up deciding to have lunch at the Indian restaurant by the hotel. It was all right, though the curry was quite buttery. The annoying thing (and this happens a lot here) is that nothing is ever bundled together, but you have to order everything separately. Thus, a restaurant that, at first, seemed relatively (for France) inexpensive ends up becoming rather expensive, as I had to order not only the curry but some rice. Had I had my druthers, there'd have been bread, too, but I'm not made of money.

Anyway, following that, I spent another day wandering around the town. I started out walking uphill toward the cliffs that I was on yesterday, exploring street by street. I stopped in a beautiful little church and looked around, and it was quite eerie and beautiful because I was completely alone within. Following that, I headed around through the village, examining all the streets and looking for little shops or things I would like. Really, though, it's mostly various food shops and restaurants, and there wasn't too much to pique my interest. All of the restaurants here are so expensive! It's irritating to have to constantly pay so much for dinner, but I clearly have no other means of eating here. Besides, I guess it is vacation; I know my dad would encourage me to have good dinners.

After the exploration, I ended up back on the grande plage in front of the casino, and I think I ended up standing there for at least a half hour, just watching the (pretty choppy) waves come in as these guys surfed over them. It's probably in the fifties or something over here, so I couldn't believe they were surfing, but I was also extremely jealous. It's irritating me to be right on the ocean and yet incapable of swimming in it, and I really want to get out there. Also, the surfing seemed kind of fun, too, though I would clearly be way too much of a klutz for it.

Anyway, following a return to my hotel room, I then headed out to dinner at a little restaurant called Clos Basque. There, I had one of the more delicious meals I've ever had. It was a steak, perfectly cooked and melting like butter in my mouth, with this mustard sauce and these perfectly spiced fries that were soaked in the sauce and meat juice. It was mind-blowing, and, at 15 euro (with my wine) was, comparatively, about what I've paid everywhere else despite the restaurant seeming pretty nice. I would go there more, if I have good clothes. I may have to turn my attention toward that...

Anyway, following that, I took in the classic 12 Angry Men at the town theater, where I was the only one in the audience. That, too, was pretty cool; it was like a private screening. Highly enjoyable, and surprisingly cheap, at 4 euro for a student ticket. All in all, this is turning out to be a delightful vacation.

Anyway, a final note on my French minor: Even my advisor makes it sound like she won't be able to do anything for me, so it's looking like I'm SOL. Even by counting one of these Civ. courses toward the minor (which would necessitate taking another art course, which is another hornet's nest I don't want to get into), I would still need to take three more courses to get the minor, and, at this point, I kind of just don't see the point. I'll still talk to the lady, to see if there's anything I'm overlooking or anything like that, but it's looking probable at this point that I will just drop it, which is supremely irritating because it means the loss of a lot of work that was really painful to do. But I guess it made me better at French, theoretically. I mean, I could understand pretty much all of this French sex talk show that was on tonight with Jean de Berg. Did I mention today was amazing?

Biarritz 1

Well, I'll get around to past updates whenever I do, but I'd like to chronicle my vacation somewhat closely, so here goes:

Monday I left, taking the Merto to the Gare Montmarnesse, in the southwest quarter of Paris. There, I got my ticket (though forgot to ask for a discount with my International Student card; perhaps they can correct things on Sunday when I go back, otherwise I am kicking myself) and a sandwich for lunch. Following that, I boarded the train TGV (Train de Grande Vitesse, or "Train of Big Fastness," or, more eloquently, "High-Speed Train") and rode out to Biarritz. The TGV is nice - it's generally super-smooth and was, aside from this spazmoid baby that would cry because of anything (this high-pitched, whining cry, too), the car was extremely quiet. (Oh, also, there was this dumb old woman who at one point started like having a conversation with this woman who was sitting in the middle of the car, which is separated off by automatic doors (like on the Metra, though fancier) because it is where the baggage is kept and where you can make calls. Anyway, the two of them were talking, and they kept opening the automatic door as it tried to shut every 15 seconds, which was so unbelievably annoying. Just go out in the fucking middle of the car! Yeesh...) Anyway, I did my class reading on the way there. In the course of five hours, I read a chapter of French-translated Adam Smith. (Admittedly, a 20-page chapter). Nevertheless, wow, sucky showing. To be fair, though, there was a letter written in there and a brief nap taken.

Arriving in Biarritz, I took a cab to my hotel, which is quite adorable. The receptionist was quite nice, and we had a little conversation in French, and then I headed up to my room, dropped my stuff off, and then headed out to dinner (which necessitated another conversation with the lady to figure out where dinner could be found). Anyway, it was like 915 by this point, which is a late dinner for me but about average for the French. Nevertheless, the streets were deserted, and reminded me kind of a Fellini movie during a scene where it's like Rome at 3 AM - lots of empty squares with occasional cars whizzing by.

After wandering around and trying to figure out where I was for a while, because, like the rest of France, Biarritz has wacky-ass streets that come into existence randomly and wriggle about, I eventually ended up at this place called Le Pizarria. It was nice. I had a seafood pizza, because since I'm right on the ocean it was pretty cheap (relatively), and, of course, it piqued my interest. It was good, though it had the unfortunate affect of causing my burps to taste like fish all night. Anyway, along with that and a glass of wine I had a delicious ice cream concoction and it was all celebratory and wonderful. Nevertheless, it took me a little while to figure out how to dine on one's own with dignity in a restaurant filled with couples. Of course, they were all, individually, twice my age, so I guess that kind of helped. I ended up writing a letter and just sitting there and sighing contentedly, trying to drink my liberty from the others in my program and the beautiful surroundings of the town (though all I could see out the window were construction signs, since they were repaving the sidewalk).

Anyway, following that, I returned to the hotel and payed an exorbitant amount for a week of Internet. But, since a great part of this trip's goal was to get some (pleasure) writing done, which includes blogs and whatnot, I coughed up for it. (Also, it's my dad's money, though I still feel guilty spending it.)

Today I got up at the shocking hour of 845 to experience my free continental breakfast. It was all right. Croissants and baguettes and cereal and pain au chocolat and slices of meat and cheese, and raw eggs with a boiler and raw toast (bread) with a toaster. And drinks. But no scrambled eggs or anything like that. Has the art of the free continental breakfast really fallen so low? Anyway, it was fine, for being, theoretically, free, though the lady in the room did ask for my room number. I'm wondering why. The girl at the desk said that my breakfast was free, so then why did this lady ask for my room number. Does it cost money for people with other room arrangements, and she's just keeping track of how many people are coming to pay and to not pay? Or did I take a croissant from the wrong table or something and accidentally quality for a 10 euro breakfast. I don't know, the whole thing is far too much for me to understand. I'll ask at the desk tomorrow...

Anyway, following that, I headed out to explore the city. I walked down the street I had found the restaurant on the night before and continued along until it ran out of shops. Then I started winding my way back, trying to find other streets that looked like they had shops, though this was hard and I kept getting list. Nevertheless, it was all pretty, and it was nice to get lost. Eventually I ended up back in the center of the village, and I headed out to the beach and looked around. It was quite awesome, and rest assured pictures (though hopefully not all of the 250 or so that I took) will be posted. I continued along the coast for several hours, and it was quite beautiful, though I wished I had had a friend there to share it with from time to time. I eventually ended up by the Musee de la Mer (Sea Museum, which equals aquarium), which, unfortunately, had just closed for repairs the day before. Darn. I like fish.

Following that, I had to find my way back to the village, which I eventually managed to do by wandering in its general direction (The only map I have is the one the hotel gave me, which isn't very good and is photocopied). Since it was like 230, all the restaurants were closed, because they are only open for lunch and dinner hours, with a break in between, which ruffles my American feathers. Nevertheless, I found an open creperie and got a ham-egg-and-cheese gatlette (buckwheat crepe). I was the only one in there, so I got to make nice conversation with the crepe woman and practice my French. It was good. She said my accent was good and complimented me on learning the language of the country I was going to, an idea I agree with in principle, though it becomes less practical the more one travels...

Following that, I went back to the hotel to empty my full memory card and to take a nap, because I was balls tired from all the walking.

Anyway, also, last night I went through the excitement of picking my next quarter's classes online. Unfortunately, there are few good Cinema and English classes next quarter, so this was a little difficult. I decided I could also take La Comedie Classique (I hope I do not have to translate), as long as the new undergrad advisor, whom I have heard is very nice, would allow it instead of one of the French literature sequence courses (since I figured it was basically the same thing). Anyway, the way in which this factors in temporally is that, upon waking, I found I had an email response from her. She said she was willing to consider this but, more importantly, reminded me that I am actually not able to count this study abroad sequence as both a Civ. fulfilment and a French minor fulfillment. This filled my soul with a profound despair, as this quarter has been so brutally crushing and the only thing getting me through it was the thought that it was really like getting 6 quarters of work done. Anyway, I quickly responded saying we would sort this out, and quickly followed that up with an email to my advisor asking if there were any loopholes or anything. I mean, when you fill out and sign the minor form, the woman says to you that you can back out any time but if you complete the form you will get the minor. I'm wondering if I can just pretend I never emailed this woman and take the last course listed on the sheet I signed and then get the fucking minor anyway. If I have to take another 2 or 3 French classes to complete the fucking thing, I will not be doing that, I can say that for sure. Anyway, I'll kept you abreast on these developments, but, needless to say, I am displeased....

Anyway, following that, I headed out for dinner. I expected there to be many more people out this evening (since Monday most everything is closed and most everyone stays in), but, as it turned out, there really were not. I guess this is about the level of commerce that this town sustains in the winter, which is a little sad, I suppose, but whatever. I wanted my peace and quiet, and I got it. I ate at a little cafe where I had lamb, which was quite good, though there was not very much of it. I then returned to the hotel, since there is, apparently, nothing to do here after like 9 on a weekday, as the streets are all dead. The only things that are open are bars, but they, too, usually have three or four people in them, usually all one group that came together, and I see no point in sitting in a bar trying to look like I'm being part of a nightlife that doesn't exist. Besides, I came on this vacation to relax and get writing done, so I headed back to the hotel and relaxed and wrote.

One delight of the evening was the discovery that 1) I receive the comedy channel and that 2) it was playing My Cousin Vinnie. Needless to say, this was a lot less good dubbed into French, as Peschi and Tomei's wonderful vocal work is utterly ir-replicable and anyone below the age of 40 (i.e. poor Ralph Macchio) sounds like a prepubescent. Nevertheless, it was a good exercise, and I found I could understand pretty much all of it. A big help was the fact that I basically knew it all anyway, so when I wasn't understanding something, I could use my pre-knowledge to sort it all out. All in all, a very good time.

Anyway, beyond that, I have written, and it has been generally good. I'm slowly learning to allow myself the pleasure of relaxing, which theoretically I have embraced, though realistically (as the above paragraph about bars surely evidences), I am constantly hounded by the thought that I need to be doing and experiencing more. But, honestly, this program has me so exhausted that I think I deserve to just have a vacation, and so I am going to be making an adamant effort to do just that. Besides, I am going out and exploring the town during the day, and, turns out, there is actually a fair bit to explore. Though that may just be because I wandered around the coastline for two hours today and didn't have any time left to explore the village center. But oh well. That's what tomorrow is for...