Fairy Tales

Once upon a time... that's how fairy tales are SUPPOSED to start. While I'm not going to tell you a story, this seemed like a perfect beginning to this entry because our trip last weekend felt like a fairy tale.


Aidan and I were excited to get out of Paris and explore the French province of Normandy. With 15 million people walking the streets with you every day, sometimes you just need a little quiet and space to breathe. Originally we planned to visit the D-Day Beaches and then return home, but we were really excited to find an incredible deal on a hotel search engine for a night's stay in a Chateau. Who wouldn't want to spend a night in a French Chateau in the middle of the countryside? My inner 7 year old princess could barely contain her excitement, so we booked it.


Following our visit the D-Day Beaches (more about this in an upcoming, much more serious, and thought-provoking post), we arrived at the Chateau Canisy in the late afternoon. We drove through the iron gate, up the winding driveway, and arrived in front of the 1,000 old Chateau with me producing squeals of excitement the entire way. Check this place out for yourself. I think you might squeal too!

Squealing aside, we were very fortunate to meet, Jennifer, the manager of Canisy, who ushered us out of the rain and next to the fire for coffee while she gave us the history of the house. A brief recap: The Chateau Canisy was built in 1090 when a soldier in William the Conqueror's Army was given the land as a reward for his brave service. Since its creation, the Chateau has welcomed various dignitaries and special guests of noble blood, but in modern history during World War II, it was also home to the Nazis who took it over for a command post. Luckily following the war, it was returned to its owners who eventually passed it down to the current owner: Count Dennis Kergoraly who, because of his ancestors, is still a prominent member of French society and an aristocrat.


The tour of the house lead us through rooms that were individually decorated to reflect various periods of French history. To be honest, my French history is a little (okay, very) rusty, so I found myself a little more excited about the huge four poster beds, the sweeping drapes, the floor to ceiling windows, the large bathtubs, the ancient tapestries, and the numerous parlors with warm crackling fires (I know this is hard to imagine because everyone reading this is in 90+ temperatures, but it is COLD here). With every new room and every new find, I kept thinking two things: 1- I wonder what this (bed, wall, window, painting) has seen while it has been here and 2- Where is Belle, the Beast, Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts? Seriously! I was in the middle of a scene from Beauty and the Beast!

In case the house was not enough to explore, there were extensive grounds and gardens that included lakes, swans, fountains, gardens, and even a small farm. Even in the pouring rain, with Aidan and I in galoshes and puddle stomping our way across the grounds, we had the time of our lives wandering. 

The fairy tale continued at dinner. We changed and joined the only other guests for a happy hour in the parlor. Unfortunately we were very under dressed, and Aidan and I kept joking that we had forgotten to throw our tuxedo and ballgown into our backpacks! Silly us! We were really excited about meeting people, but the other guests spoke only French, so we were seated in separate dining rooms. Aidan and I ate dinner in the main dining room, across from one another at a very large and intimidating wooden table that had silver candlesticks, 15 pieces of silverware, and 3 crystal glasses for each of us. We enjoyed a beautiful 4 course meal and were served by a delightful woman named Evelyn who spoke no English. Even with the language barrier, she and I spent the majority of the meal giggling at one another as we attempted to communicate with our hands and facial expressions. Turns out that when you leave Paris, the people are so friendly and fun!! Evelyn even took our picture...

Unfortunately just like every story, our evening and our stay at Chateau Canisy had to come to an end. We headed back to Paris with a brief stop at Mt. St. Michel, and you know what they say... We lived happily ever after (at least so far)!

"French-isms"

There is a joke in my family that every person has things that they say or have said that are reflective of who they are. For example, as a child, I always liked to be the boss, and when I did not get what I wanted, I would cross my arms, pout my lip, and shout "Fine." To this day in our family, we call the word "fine" a "Liz-ism." Thank goodness we grow out of some things! Another example- my little sister Caroline has always seen the world differently than everyone else, and when we were in London many many years ago, she saw a man running completely naked with only shoes on. Her natural 5 year old response? "Mommy, he looks like a horse!" Think about it :) That is a "Caroline-ism." I've heard the French say some pretty fantastic things while I've been over here, and I wanted to share some "French-isms" with you!


1- On the Fourth of July we had a small dinner with American friends. One American friend brought her French boyfriend, so he could experience some American cuisine and culture. We did every American style and had Budweisers and a buffet of pigs in a blanket, broccoli salad, pasta salad, and sugar cookies with icing and fruit on top. For being in a foreign country, our spread was quite impressive. Cyril (the French guy) was looking at all the food, and when we showed him the pasta salad, he said "That's NOT pasta!! It's COLD!" 


2- Also on the Fourth, we visited Aidan's local Irish pub who had American specials. We were thrilled to enjoy the company of other expats and listen to some American tunes, but we were very surprised with the large amount of French people also showed up to celebrate. When Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA" came over the speakers, all of the French people started jumping around and screaming the lyrics... of the chorus only. They did not know any words other than "born in the USA," so the bar was totally quiet until that phrase of the song was heard. I think the Americans would have picked up the verses, but we were laughing too hard!


3- During the Euro Cup soccer finals, Aidan and I went with a few friends to the Eiffel Tower lawn where there was a big screen showing the finals. During the game there was a particularly nasty foul that resulted in a yellow card. One of our friends screamed, "WHAT? That was clean ref!" To which a nearby French man turned and said plainly "Mister, this is not American football, it's EUROPEAN football."


More to come... stay tuned :) I'll update as I hear more!

Ode to America

Happy 4th to everyone at home and abroad! Talking to my mom the other day made me a little sad about missing the family, food, and festivities that go along with today, and as much as I would love to be in Indy, floating in the pool with some of my favorite people in the world, I am also grateful to experience the 4th somewhere else. Maybe it'll make me appreciate it more next year... Either way, I'm seriously considering heading to the Starbucks here, grabbing an ice coffee, and sitting outside and reading in the sunshine. I also spotted a New York hot dog vendor yesterday!! You have to get a little America where you can, right?? :)


I told you a few weeks ago that I was composing my thoughts about things various countries could learn from each other. In honor of today and my love for the red, white, and blue, here are my top 10 things I miss/things I think people in France (and maybe Europe too) could learn from the USA:


1- Lines: The idea of a line or any sense of order is completely lost on the Europeans. It doesn't matter if you are in church, waiting to get on the Metro, at the airport, or waiting to enter a museum. In any of these situations, people immediately charge to the front regardless of how many people have been waiting. Makes me cringe every single time. After all, I'm a teacher; I like taking turns :)


2- Mexican Food: A little less serious, I wish the Parisians would embrace North American culture and have a few more Mexican food options. At home I eat Mexican at least twice a week, and since being here, I have seen it ONCE in a grocery store and a packet of seasoning costs $4. Not cool, Paris. You are absolutely missing out.


3- Personal Space: This honestly may be more of a big city problem than a European problem, but I am so exhausted of people being in my personal space!! Here is a prime example... last weekend, Aidan and I had some friends in town. They wanted to visit Notre Dame, so Aidan and I got some lunch and had a mini picnic on the river right next to the cathedral while we waited. We were taking up most of a bench and had our food laid out in between us. A Spanish woman walked over to our bench and squeezed herself on the 18 inches left on the bench. Not only was she interrupting our picnic, but we were then shoulder to shoulder and guess what?? SHE STUNK. (see below). 


4- Temperature Control: The Europeans manage to make me go from freezing cold to sweating back to freezing in a matter of seconds. There is no air conditioning which is okay on most days because it in 70-80 degrees (I'm sorry to all those reading this, I know you are hot and miserable!). The problem is, the French believe that if you are not bundled up at all times, you will get sick, so they are constantly bundled in parkas and scarves. With no air conditioning, they begin to sweat. Rather than take off clothing, they continue to sweat and this starts a chain reaction. Sweat leads to stink, stinking bodies lead to stinking clothes, stinking clothes don't get clean in the washer/dryer, and when people who are not clean come barreling into your personal bubble... just take my word for it, France is a smelly place right now.


5- T-shirts: Turns out everything is an occasion in Paris. Women dress up for any event whether it is going to the grocery store or an executive business meeting. It is summertime, and I would like to be able to run errands in my Nike running shorts and tennis shoes without being judged for looking like a slob. America is definitely a little less formal than Europe, and I love her for that!


6- Dryers: With our revolving door of visitors (which I have loved!), we have accumulated quite a bit of laundry. Aidan's washer can fit about half the size of a normal load of laundry which is fine, but the real problem with doing laundry is the dryer. They don't exist here which means you have to lay out the clothes on a rack. Aidan's rack can hold maximum two loads of laundry and without any central heating/cooling system, clothes take forever to dry! There is a constant pile of laundry to be done, and the rack never gets put away because it is always always always in use! Plus, everyone knows that your clothes never feel the same when they dry on a rack. I'm so looking forward to the first time I get to pull warm towels out of the dryer. Don't take it for granted! :)


7- Friendliness: I'm a Midwestern girl. I like smiling at people when you walk past them, I like cooing at a cute baby, and I like saying "Excuse Me" when I accidentally bump someone. This does not happen in Europe, and maybe it is a city thing where people are so used to being focused only on what they are doing, but I just miss friendly interactions. Luckily there are plenty of Americans who are constantly lost and in need of redirection :) I also could be totally wrong about this stereotype. Aidan and I are headed into the countryside this weekend, and maybe those people are different... I'll let you know!


8- Self Esteem: Sometimes I think the whole politically correct fad in America is ridiculous, but after a recent encounter in a French clothing store, I've decided I like the PC American way. It was chilly when I arrived here, and I needed a pair of pants. Shopping for pants has always been a little bit of a struggle for me (and most girls, I think) because my self-esteem always seems to take a beating. Nevertheless I hate being cold, so I found a clothing store that I thought I would like and picked out a few pairs of pants. When I went to the dressing room, the woman who owned the store took the pants from me, checked the sizes, gave me the "up down," felt my hips, and then told me in French that these pants were the wrong size. She marched me back to the rack where she got the right size and sent me into a dressing room. To make me feel even worse, I glanced at the tag of the pants she gave me... they were 4 sizes bigger than the size I wear at home. Now I am realistic enough to understand that sizes aren't the same everywhere, but the pants did not fit at all, I felt terrible about myself, and I immediately left the store. Aidan tried to explain to me later that this was just French culture, and she was trying to be helpful, but the damage was done. I've worn a lot of shorts and sweaters since then :)

9- Socializing: This one I have learned from Aidan, but the French believe that work and home should not mix. They do not believe in inviting people from work over to their houses and do not socialize outside of the office hours. Seeing as I have some very good friends who I only got to know through my job, I have to disagree with the French on this one. Friends are friends no matter where you find 'em!


10- Diversity: Ending on a somewhat serious note, I've done so much wandering since I've been here, and not knowing the language, much of what I have learned has come from observation. I have seen a march where Africans are asking for equal rights in France, and on Saturday Aidan and I happened to stumble across a Gay Pride parade in Paris. Watching the parades honestly reminded me of footage I have seen from the American Civil Rights Movement in the 50's with the marches, signs, rioting, and police presence. I know that the United States isn't perfect, but from what I have observed, we are so far ahead of the rest of the world when it comes to being accepting of different kinds of people. I know we still have a long way to go, and the issues about immigration, health care, and civil unions continue to incite passionate debates from all sides. BUT, seeing the intolerance here has made me proud of who we are and the conversations we are having. Years from now I don't know what the history books will say, but I do know that we are working on growing into a stronger, more productive and accepting nation. I'm proud of that, and I am waving my flag today.


God Bless the USA. 

Paradise Part II

What is the opposite of hiking 15 miles and almost falling off a cliff? Laying on the beach! As part of our week vacation, Aidan and I also traveled to the French Riviera and stayed in fabulous Cannes- site of the Film Festival- and Monte Carlo, Monaco! Luckily we did not get ourselves into any precarious situations, so for this post, I really am just going to share a few of my favorite pictures.... Enjoy :)

Hi Moms! On a boat to an island off Cannes called St. Marguerite!

Meg Ryan's handprints outside the theater in Cannes

Harbor at sunset!

The harbor with the theater in the background

Last night in Cannes

The reason we only stayed in Monaco one night... we were a little out of our league!

Famous Casino Monte Carlo

Grace Kelly's Rose Garden conveniently located next to our hotel!

Paradise Part I

Four years ago when I studied abroad, I was lucky enough to travel to a little town called Zermatt at the base of the Swiss Alps. In my mind, this place is paradise, and after visiting, Aidan insisted if there was only a lake with boats, it really would be paradise :) Between the numerous hiking trails, clean air, fresh pine trees, the sounds of the river, and the breathtaking views of the famous mountain, the Matterhorn, Zermatt has and continues to be my Nirvana.


I was bouncing with excitement when Aidan and I decided to travel back to Zermatt, and that bouncing continued the entire train ride. Zermatt was every bit as beautiful and perfect as I remembered, and my plan for this blog entry was to post a few pictures to let you see for yourself, but then we got into a few interesting situations that I have to share... 


Our first full day in Zermatt, we loaded up our packs, ate a solid breakfast, and headed to the mountains early for a full day of hiking. We were in heaven as we climbed through the mountains, stopping for water, snack, photography, and bathroom breaks. We made it to the top of one trail sooner than expected and had a delicious lunch while chatting with the owner of the chalet. He recommended that we continue up the trail, heading to the base of the Matterhorn, the highest peak you can climb to without professional support, and the place where ice climbers spend the night in order to get an early start to the summit. The lovely Irish man told us this hike would "not be a problem for fit people like yourselves." Famous last words. 


Two hours later I was in hysterical tears 30 minutes from the top of the mountain. Though we were almost to the top, we had traveled over stairs that jutted out from the mountain and were a misstep away from a drop to my death. We had traveled over ice that covered a 12 inch pathway (get out a ruler, it was THAT small) and used only a rope bolted into the mountain for hand support. The entire time all I was thinking about was how in order to do this at home, I would have signed away my life. It is no exaggeration when I say that one step in the wrong direction would mean more than a broken bone. It would mean death (see photo below).

To make things 10 times more interesting, we were traveling behind a group of American high school kids, 40 of them to be exact, and during the less treacherous parts, Aidan and I enjoyed talking to these polite and interesting teenagers. We joked about Vandy and Notre Dame and gave them advice as they started considering colleges. About the point I became hysterical, two of their comrades were equally as terrified, in hyperventilating tears, and unable to move any further. I knew we were in danger when AIDAN suggested we turn around and go home- that the view wasn't worth our lives. Two of the high school kids jumped at the opportunity to return to the town with us, and the four of us began our descent. For me, the opportunity to coach two girls who were even more afraid than me was a welcome distraction from my fear and allowed me to return safely and calmly to the town. Throughout the rest of our time in Zermatt, we kept running into the kids around the town and really enjoyed the familiar faces and fun conversations! (And we were really happy everyone made it back safely!) 




Coming home from our 10 hour "hike," we were blistered, sunburned, windburned, and in desperate need of a bratwurst. In a small Swiss town, this should not be difficult to find, and we finally found a little local spot with huge wursts and a delightful side of the Swiss/German (I don't know which) version of hashbrowns. We did not just eat at this establishment one night but several, and we got to know the owner- this adorable older man who spoke no English. With our limited German knowledge, we communicated mostly via hand signals. 


One night, we were enjoying our meal at the little place and about to ask for the check when the owner brought us a wedge of Raclette (Swiss cheese) and a basket of bread. Completely stuffed from dinner, neither Aidan nor I really wanted this extra cheese but knew it was rude to turn it down. Thank goodness we didn't because it was the most AMAZING cheese I have ever eaten. In fact, when I finish this entry, I may head across the street to the fromagerie to get some for dinner! :) We ate every last bite, and not knowing how to communicate with the older man, we simply gave him a thumb's up and a huge smile. He, in turn, smiled, and whipped out his I-Phone to show us the huge wheels of Raclette that were in their basement below our feet. Did I mention I absolutely love this little town?


Our last evening in Zermatt also happened to be the semi-finals of the Euro Cup with Germany playing Italy. Switzerland has three official languages: Italian, German, and French, so it is no understatement to say that this soccer game was HUGE. Aidan and I ended up in the Italian bar with the German pub across the street, and we watched the game listening to yells and screams going back and forth between fans. For any sports fan, it was a blast, and to make things even more exciting, Dan Marino was only a few feet away enjoying the games with his family!


Aren't convinced this place was unbelievable? Here are my pictures, so you can see paradise for yourself :)

Little Things

It is absolutely amazing to me how fast time flies when you are enjoying every second of what you are doing. I'm in love with my time here. Our visitors are still here, and it is so fun to have people to explore with, eat with, drink wine on the river with, and just enjoy company. It's been a busy week since I have last written, and I have so much to share about our trip to Budapest and a day trip to Versailles, but I thought I would write today about a few of the little things that have happened this week and made my smile.


1- We gained a pet. Ellen, Sean, and Hunter were wandering the city on Tuesday while I did some shopping and errand-running of my own. I came home early afternoon with a three cheese panini and a bottle of water, and I was sitting at the kitchen table eating and reading when out of the corner of my eye I saw a movement. I glanced up just in time to see a mouse crawling across the floor and under the couch. I immediately crawled on top of the kitchen counter and called Aidan. We came up with a game plan for disposing of the mouse (without killing him!), and I put the plan into action. Our plan? To create a barricade that would tunnel the mouse out of the couch and out the door. Long story short, 3 hours later I was unsuccessful in getting him out, I had made a mess of the apartment, and I was exhausted from chasing Ratatouille around the apartment with a broom. Here are my three take-ways: 
1. Mice do not like cheese. Ratatouille did not touch the cheese trail I left for him and just ran from piece to piece of the furniture.
2. There are holes in our walls that are connected to other apartments. Ratatouille eventually escaped my barrier and sought refuge in the kitchen where he escaped through a hole and now lives somewhere in our walls. Sometimes I wake up at night terribly afraid he will be cuddling next to me.
3. Trying to buy a mouse trap in France is like playing charades. As much as I love Ratatouille, I did purchase two mouse traps from the store. It sounds simple until you don't know the French word for mouse or trap. Talking to the clerk, I made a mouse noise and then slapped my hands together and somehow that did the job! 

2- I finally have flowers in the flower boxes!! We got home from Budapest mid-day on Monday, and Aidan did not have to go to work, so he went with me to take on the Flower Nazis. I am so pleased to announce that we now have gorgeous pink geraniums that I look at every day (and who knows, maybe that's where Ratatouille is living)!!

3- A late dinner reservation last night left the four of us wondering what to do before Aidan got home, so we took a bottle of wine (or two) and plastic tea cups to the Seine and sat on the ledge next to Notre Dame. It was as picturesque as it sounds watching the boats go by and waving to the tourists on them. My favorite moment, however, was sharing a toast with some people on one of the tour boats. Ellen, Sean, Hunter, and I raised our glasses to them, and behind their glass wall, they raised their glasses to us. Just a simple moment where I knew that there is nowhere else I'd rather be.


4- I love to eat, and I have yet to have a bad meal. BUT our dinner last night may have honestly been the most delicious meal I have ever eaten in my entire life. It was not anything adventurous- I had prime rib, potatoes, and dark chocolate gelato with a praline- but the rich flavors left me savoring every single bite (quite an accomplishment for any teacher who is used to eating lunch in 20 minutes!). My mouth waters just thinking about that meal and the amount of satisfaction I got from enjoying each bite. It also started an interesting discussion about things America could learn from France. More on this later... I'm still processing my thoughts! :)


5- Happy Anniversary (a day late) to two of my favorite people in the world. Thank you for showing me what 25 years of love looks like. I love you Mom and Dad, and I can't wait to see you in July!

Bubbly

My mom always says that the year we moved was the year we saw our family the most. She refers to the year we spent in Los Angeles and claims that when you live in a place far away, so many people visit that you forget you are not at home. Aidan and I were so excited on Wednesday that his brother and sister came to visit and are staying for 10 days! 


When you are from the United States, sometimes I think it is difficult to remember that there are people who have never been there and quite frankly don't care. Being over here is a constant and refreshing reminder that the world exists beyond our borders, a much needed lesson in humility. That said, I do smile a little bit hearing American English, and I love the strike-up conversation between a lost American tourist and myself. Being thousands of miles from home, it is amazing how much I suddenly have in common with a older man from Seattle, and how all of those conversations feel like a piece of home.


Waiting for Ellen and Sean, I got the best little taste of home from a French family. They had just gotten off the plane from the United States and were being greeted by French relatives. The returning family was extremely excited to show their relatives things they brought from their vacation, and they began to open up their suitcase in the little cafe outside of customs. Being nosy and unable to take my eyes off these adorable, bubbly children, I watched as the adults opened a HUGE suitcase. Inside were two bags of American flags and- I am not exaggerating- 25 bags of every kind of M&M that is produced. Peanut Butter, Crunchy, Mint... you name the M&M, they had it. What made this people-watching even better, the little French girl (maybe 5 or 6), started bouncing up and down, waved her arms in a circle, and screamed "Oh YEAHHHHH!" In that moment I was so America sick, it hurt, but seeing someone else enjoy "America" was perfect.


After wandering for a few days, Ellen, Sean, and I decided to take a day trip to go champagne tasting. Reims was a city that I was hesitant to go to but will not forget... a perfect reminder that some great things in life are a complete surprise. Ellen, Sean, and I got off the train, and even in the downpour of rain, we found ourselves in a quaint pedestrian town full of small shops and cafes. Being the introvert that I am, this town appealed to me, and I loved being able to walk down the street without a crowd of 15 million people. We visited two champagne caves- Taittinger and Pommery. Champagne makers take advantage of the chalk caves the Romans excavated in the 4th Century. The first one was a pristine, well-kept cave and a perfect introduction to the making of champagne. Fun fact: Champagne is only considered champagne if it is made in this French region!

While Tattinger was a perfect introduction to something I knew absolutely nothing about, visiting the Pommery caves was an eyeopening and fascinating trip through time. This particular cave was established in the early 1800's and has carried on production ever since. Even more fascinating, the caves were host to a large population of Reims civilians during the first World War. When the Germans destroyed most of the city, the citizens descended into the caves and carried on life there for 400 days. The teacher in me was absolutely amazed by the stories of school in the caves while bomb raids were happening 20 meters above them. Just to give you an idea of how severe these raids were, following the war, only the town cathedral and 60 houses were still standing. 

At the end of the tour the guide took us to their private cellar with vintages that dated back to 1898. The last time a bottle was taken from this cellar and consumed was in 2005 when World War II veterans from the United States and Great Britain returned to Reims to commemorate the signing of the treaty in 1945. Something about that gave me goosebumps and made me smile. Maybe it was the subtle connection to home, maybe it was the charity of the French, or maybe it was just the idea that there is so much out there bigger than you or me.