Mont Saint Michel

A short night's sleep, an incident with incorrectly saving the car rental receipt, and a baby who wouldn't go to bed before midnight didn't stop us from making the 3.5 hour trek from Paris to Mont St Michel and back. The abbey for which the small island town is famous (4 million visitors annually) was built in the 10th century and was the fourth Christian Pilgramage locale (Jerusalem, Rome, Spain preceeding). The walk up the steep, narrow, and twisty roads crawling with kitschy souvenir shops shouldn't discourage you from making the complete summit to the abbey. Marveille (or Marvelous in English) is the name of the actual abbey situated on the pyramidal shaped granite island. The Eastern side of the building collapsed in the 14th century and was rebuilt with flying buttresses for support, when you view the pictures you can clearly differentiate the architectural distinctions between the two wings. Family Bonus: a few pictures of Ruby included in the slideshow.

Take Manhattan Just Give Me That Countryside

Versailles is an essential day trip for anyone's Paris visit. For many Americans it seems the only link we have to the French: the revolution. This palace, should awaken a sense of horror in us. The audaciously lavish ceiling decor, the walls covered in silk and gold at a time when peasants were dying of hunger. On the surface we all like to think we cheer for the underdog. But ultimately, we walk the endless corridors somehow inspired, wondering what balls were thrown here, what the gentlemen and ladies of the court wore, and how we could use just an ounce of this lavishness to spice up our modest homes.

Growing up, like all little girls, I loved stories of princesses. I always wanted to live the life of royalty (and checked out nearly every book on Princess Diana available in our local library as proof), but dreamed of some day marrying a farmer. It is that constant internal juxtaposition that explains my love for country music and rap, political liberalism and religious conservatism, J.Lo and Jackie O. But, in my most recent visit to Versailles, I finally found how my two-selves could reconcile.

LE PETIT HAMEAU (The Hamlet)




(photos courtesy Shiloh)

We have heard stories of the extravagant lifestyle of Marie Antoinette, and some have seen it in Sophia Copola's recent movie starring Kirsten Dunst. But, can we give the girl a break already...she was just trying to live the simple life.

Here she escaped to bathed and perfumed sheep and cows wandering the landscaped pasteur. Marie could milk these cows and use porcelain pitchers to collect the milk. As an added bonus, the pitchers bore her monogram (a simple addition that really adds something, don't you think?)

The grounds at the Hamlet are complete with, in addition to the farm: a mill, a warming room, the Boudoir, the Dove Cote and a guard's house in addition to the Queen's House located at the edge of the "lake."

Manicure

Shannon gave Ruby a manicure while she was here. I think you can see by the look on Ruby's face, despite the closed eyes, how amazing she thought it was to get her nails done.

Happy Birthday Ruby!

Yesterday was Ruby's first birthday. She showed her tendancy to be like her mother: relishing the attention, demanding things her way, and leaving her tiara on throughout most of the festivities. We had a small party with a few neighborhood families over to sing happy birthday, eat cake, and ultimately cause such chaos in our house as to assuage any ideas of "another" any time soon. We imported party supplies (thanks to Ruby's favorite birthday present: Shannon) in red, white, and blue to celebrate both events of the day!

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

Our first guests arrived within 24 hours of eachother and the weekend was filled with a whirlwind of Parisian "Must-See's". The picture you see here is taken under the Arc de Triomphe, direction Champs Elysees (sadly the only group photo and it is blurry). Together we visited Versailles (bonus: free on first Sunday's of the month), Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe and had a delightful meal for 20 Euro or less!

By the way, that is the infamous TB above, looking thrilled to be in Paris.

Toussaint

Appropriately, the day following Halloween (which is only an imported holiday in France, used as a marketing tool for the ever-hungry consumer) is All Saint's Day in France (or Toussaint). Traditionally, the day has served as an opportunity for families to clean the graves of their departed. We thought it was a perfect opportunity to visit one of the world's famous cemetaries, Pere Lachaise, the eternal home of Jim Morrison, Chopin, Moliere, and the star-struck lovers Heloise and Abelard (wiki-them).


Over 300,000 bodies are buried within the 118 acres cemetary.


The almost-as-anti-climatic-as-the-Mona-Lisa grave of Jim Morrison. Fans have caused such chaos at the gravesite that a full time security guard has been hired to prevent vandalism and theft.



Chopin's tomb, attracted the largest crowds, as well as the most flowers and candles. The most incredible graves were found along streets far removed from the famous inhabitants of the cemetary, but who inspired their loved ones to create works of art to honor their memory.

I Want Candy

Ruby's first Halloween was a success, and athough she was initially hesitant with the idea of trick-or-treating, she quickly realized people were handing out treats for no clear reason. She even sneaked a Hershey's bar.

Hiro and Heroes

Thanks to iTunes I am able to keep up on a few new shows this fall. I have fallen in love with Heroes. Hopefully a few of you are watching it to. Not only does it have Jess from Gilmore Girls (a great selling point for me, but I am sure few of you), but it also has the best character to be in a tv show in recent memory: Hiro Nakamura. Is it just me, or does he remind any of you of Matt Anderson? Here is a brief clip, though there are so many more. Decide for yourselves and tune in weekly. (If you don't watch the show you should know they are realy super heroes, just discovering their powers, in this clip Hiro teleports for the first time)

Attention: TB

Can you send us your email address? Or can someone who knows this guy and has a current email address please send us his email address, ASAP? Gracias

Material Girl

My French teacher took me on a field trip today to find fabric for curtains, etc...I write this down as much as a reference so I do not forget it at a later date and also to inform you all of the TRUE budget shopping opportunities available in this otherwise expensive city. You take Metro Line #2 to Anvers, the same stop you would use to go to Sacre Couer, as you walk toward the cathedrale their are rows, and rows of fabric stores. On rue de Pierre Picard, just to the right of the main thoroughfare, you will find Mercier. Here the fabrics are just as fabulous as the stores in my neighborhood, priced SIGNIFICANTLY lower. I actually found material in the exact same fabric that I had spyed just yesterday already converted to a curtain in a shop window. The fabric was 15 euro/metre or 60 Euro for the total amount you would need. The curtains were selling for 154 Euro.

Sadly, among all these reduced prices, I also found pompoms identical to a pair I had purchased in the Marais while on vacation here two years ago. These were over 50 Euro less than I spent.

Ghetto Fabulous

One last post on Marseille, and then I will return to Paris, I promise.

As soon as I discovered I would have a week along the Mediterranean, I jumped on the internet to find out all the information I could about our vacation destination. A few google links later, I had discovered a goldmine of information, which I would like to share with you today.

France, most of you will not know, has the second largest rap market in the world. If you were observant during the series finale of Sex and the City you heard the rythmic beat of MC Solaar rapping "La Belle et Le Bad Boy" (scene: Carrie crosses the street after leaving the Russian at his art show, Big passes her in a taxi). As soon as we heard the song, Nate and I purchased the cd on Amazon. The CD is phenomenal, I listened to it non-stop for months, blarring the lyrics as I drove into the US Capitol each morning. I hadn't loved rap so much since Big Pimpin' and Country Gramma' blasted from my Prelude stereo through the BYU parking lots. MC Solaar renewed my love affair with rap. He was lyrical, poetic, political, profund, and he did it with the most fantastic beats and his shirt off.

In my travel research on Marseille I discovered that the city, in large part because of the high poverty level and large number of immigrants, has a large rap scene. There is Paris rap (MC Solaar) and there is Marseille rap. Those of you who paid any attention to popular culture in the 90s will remember the East Coast, West Coast rivalries immortalized in the deaths of Biggie Smalls, and TuPak. I digress...

Once I found out that Marseille was a hot bed of hip hop and rap, I knew I had to find true Marseille rap, I could care less about finding good bouillebasse (the famous cuisine of the region), I just wanted to find THE rap, the MUST HAVE Marseille rap. One afternoon, I wandered into the Virgian record store and checked out the cd collection. Before I found French rap, I had a great time flipping through flamenco, Sierra Leonean Refugee Camp tunes, Yiddish, Iranian Dance, etc...I could have spent a fortune. Finally I found the French rap section. It was huge. I didn't know how to find a decent artist. Finally, two guys in their mid-20's dressed in addidas running suits and gold chains stopped in the section. I knew it was my chance. "Pardon, Je cherche une vrais Marseillaise rap cd." (Hey, I am looking for a true Marseille rap cd). The guys started talking, arguing, flipping through a few options, until finally, they chose PSY4 (Psy-catre, like psychiatry). Check out their album at their website, it won't disappoint. French rap gives me hope in the genre.

http://www.psy4delarime.fr/psy4delarime.htm

Newsflash!

If you recently read the NYTimes travel section there is an article on Paris at night. The author talks about looking into people's windows and discovering what Parisians are up to. We used that as our permission slip to start really looking in others homes. A woman across the street from us just pranced in front of her well-lit room fully naked, and by just I mean I can still see her out of the corner of my eye. We never saw that in the suburbs of Northern Virginia!

La Marseillaise

We spent the last week along in the Mediterranean in the old port town of Marseille. Marseille is the oldest city in France, second largest in terms of population, and a city which I felt is all too often overlooked by tourists. The city's location has allowed it to be a melting pot of cultures: north african, islamic, and Italian primarily. It didn't actually allow centralized French rule until the late 17th century, but still holds the honor of having the French national anthem named in honor of the volunteer soldiers that assisted in the revolution of 1789.

Our View:


We stayed in a residence located on the Corniche President J.F. Kennedy (imagine that! The French naming a street after a U.S. President). The Corniche covers 5km of coastal property and was built in the 1880s as a means of providing work for the large numbers of unemployed. Unlike boardwalks so popular in most beach towns, the Corniche is built above sea level and overhangs the actual coast line. As you walk along it, there is nothing between you and the water. The homes in this area sit high on the hillside (about four filghts of stairs up). We woke in the morning to the suns rays illuminating the limestone island archipelago that sits just off the coast.

Vieux Port:
In the center of town, this port has 3500 berths, a daily fish market (where we saw a shark being divided up for multiple purchases), and leads you into Le Panier, the oldest quarter in Europe (or so they say).



Le Panier:
Any guide book will refer to this as a "charming and picturesque" neighborhood, and while I loved every moment I spent there, I don't think those are the correct words. Unlike most European historic areas, this one is still alive. The streets are not a museum to the medieval times. The only building of nearly 2,000 to have outlived the bombs of WWII houses an average hair salon on the ground floor. Historic landmarks are indicated with enamel placards on the facades of homes, the windows above displaying the days laundry stretched between wondow panes. The narrow cobblestone streets, lead you like along a maze like path, in and out of the homes stacked one on top of the other. A recnt urban renewal project is leading artisans back into the area (if you are from DC think U Street). You can find ceramics, soaps (a Marseilles specialty), and tiles, all in studios where you can watch the artists actually making the product. Naturally, as per the description above and any knowledge you have of my navigational skills you may have already determined that Ruby and I were lost at some point. that would be a correct assumption. Ultimately, an old beggar peed himself while yelling at me and chasing us up the street.




Family Photos:
We loved Marseille, the Mediterranean, the sun, and getting out of Paris for a few days (here you felt you could step outside in jeans and a pony and not feel like you need to head back inside until you get yourself properly attired). Ruby played on the beach for the first time, we visited the Chateau d'If (the prison that inspired stories such as Man in the Iron Mask and the Count of Monte Cristo), and enjoyed evening walks along the coast discovering hidden inlets and fishing ports.

Painting...still

In an attempt to make our house feel more like our home, we have been in the process of painting. The process of chosing a color-scheme has been months in the making (I can never quite keep my mind made up about what colors I prefer in which rooms) As soon as I was certain I wanted to dining room in a shade of yellow, Ruby decided to eat some (see photo below) and I began reading the short story "The Yellow Wallpaper." The combination of the two swore me off the color altogether.

Nate began painting our living room a gorgeous olive green (this paint color is the best I have used yet!) the day before he and Ruby became sick for a week. It's almost finished, except for one wall which is only completed up to the 6 foot mark.

Hopefully soon we will have pictures of the completed masterpeice.

MIA

Despite our lack of entries, we have been quite busy discovering new places, revisiting old favorites, and just settling in. Here are a few pictures of our visit last weekend to the Palace Versailles. The fountains are only turned on for the weekends from April-October. The grounds are tremendous and when added with the visual ambience of the fountains, as well as 17th and 18th century French music you can grasp the grandeur of the reign of the Sun King.

Notice to Guests

I love IKEA. I make no apologies for it. Yes, it is cheap, but that is precisely the reason I get such a rush going through their store room. To think an entire room can be decorated for such a low price, it is truly phenomenal. Some of us may go through times where it is beneath us and we decide we need to get "Grown-up" furniture, IKEA was just soooo college. But not my college room. I wish my college room had been IKEA, then maybe I could affored Pottery Barn today.

But here is the one drawback, everyone LOVES IKEA. And when you furnish your house completely in IKEA, everyone knows where you got it and they always want you to know they know. "Oh, the Billy Bookcase from IKEA." or "Ahh yes, we saw this kitchen island at IKEA too." or "You got this at IKEA didn't you" Those comments keep me from purchasing more items from that glorious place. Perhaps it is me and the complete fear I have a showing up at a party dressed in the same outfit as another person, but I feel like when people come to your home and point out all your IKEA purchases it is the interior decorating equivalent. And truth be told, I find it to be quite rude.

But, I can no longer be held back by what I perceive to be the bad manners of house guests. Prices in Europe are too high and if I want to buy anything "French" then most of what I buy must be cheap scandinavian. So I simply ask, when you visit and we show you around the house, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, don't point out all our IKEA furniture. You have some too and let's be honest, you love it!

(For those planning an upcoming visit, the IKEA is located near an outlet mall between Paris and the airport there you will find well priced clothing and some of the most adorable shoes I have seen at the most reasonable prices yet!)

Move-In Day

Move-in day is over. Thanks to a sister from our ward who has been living abroad for 31 years and offered a helping hand in keeping our baby occupied, we were able to get almost everything unpacked and settled by the end of the day. All our boxes and furniture entered the house through an outside elevator. Nothing was strapped in, pedestrians on the street had no issues walking underneath, and Nate and I couldn't help but wonder how many federal health and safety violations this endeavor was breaking. But truth be told, I think Dan and Von would be a lot happier over the several times they have helped move our furniture if they could have done it this way.

Finally

We moved into our place today, it is really something! In lieu of pictures, just note that the neighbors across the hall have a uniformed maid.

Surviving the Louvre

Anyone who has been there will attest the following:
1. Viewing the Mona Lisa is anti-climatic, you don't really care what is behind that smile, mostly because you won't get closer than 10 yards.
2. The enormous scale of the structure is overwhelming.
3. So what? If you haven't been studying ancient greece, egypt or the italian renaissance you will unlikely be compelled to stop at one painting for reflection.

What I can tell you having been there with a child in a stroller:
1. Tourists, not Parisians, are the true bane of of life in this city. They are rude, rude, rude.
2. The American Disabilities Act is a blessing, or you may find yourself walking backwards up several flights of marble staircases, and the tourists won't offer you a hand.
3. Rick Steves, though often a fantastic resource, becomes evermore annoying when he makes the following comment about the Venus de Milo in his guide book after you just dragged the stroller (and a very displeased child) up the stairs, "What were her arms doing? I say she was picking her navel."
4. A child who cannot yet walk CAN be a thief, so check what she is holding before you exit a bookstore in one of the most secure buildings in the world.
5. After a day of feeling overwhelmed by what you attempted, and underwhelmed by the art you experienced, the pyramid and the courtesy ride in an open-air elevator located in the exact center of the structure is a beautiful sight, and possibly the only thing you can take a picture of.

So, after all this what will I do now?
1. Study, study, study...and ask the all important question, "Why is this significant"
2. Break it down by wing and floor
3. Go at night (it is open until 9:45 on Wednesday and Fridays) and in the colder months to avoid the obnoxious tourists
4. Talk Nate into taking care of the baby when I go!

Stalking 101

I love Madonna. Love her.

Yesterday, I had to attend a "Spouse Breifing" to get general information on how to live in this city, the moment I was in the hallway I told Nate it was a complete waste of my morning. Nate had an hour and a half before he could take lunch, and it was such a lovely day out that I decided to wait for him. Then I remembered, Madonna was staying at the Hotel across from the park--and to think I was about to waste away the afternoon reading on a park bench.

Ruby and I headed over for the hotel. Eventually Madge had three mercedes parked in front for her "quick" exit. The size of the group of onlookers continued to grow, the size of the security detail grew, local police showed up for crowd control, paparazzi with camera lenses the like I have never seen perched on vespas were out in large numbers...my anticipation mounted, I knew I was about to see her, and not on a stage, or on a MTV interview, but in her full diva glory. I had a perfect view, but then the police decided to move all of us in that area...then I realized I have a badge to the building that would give me the best view in the house, and no one was allowed to stand in front of me now! So, abusing the privelages of my badge, I gained entry to a new point for stalking, and continued to wait. By this time, I had resorted to letting Ruby crawl around on the sidewalk to keep her entertained so I could wait for Madonna. Three hours later I was still there, her mercedes were still parked outside, the group was even larger than it had been, and I just couldn't wait anymore. She is a genius though, she had those cars parked and ready for her exit, her personal security detail ready for hours before she left. She generated so much attention before she left that old people would stop, ask what was happening, and then say "oh la la, Mah-doe-nah" (that was my french accent in writing) and wait. The crowd looked huge, but it had taken hours to create.

I ditched out. A few minutes later, from a cafe down the road, we heard the fans and the sirens.