I went to the market today in Arles. It was huge! There was a ridiculous variety of merchants there: you could get new windshield wipers, tomatoes stuffed with beef and onions, and a new knife all within the same block. I walked up and down and looked at the different shops and I wandered into town every once in a while. I bought a box of strawberries for breakfast and a chicken leg with stuffed tomato for lunch. Aside from that, no purchasing but lots of browsing. There were lots of chickens roasting and lots of provencal cloth. It was a nice day, although I really would have liked to go to Cassis as well. It was a tough decision: tour Arles and go to the market there or sit on the beach all day, playing frisbee and studying.
I bought a ticket for Constantine-era Roman baths and the arena. The baths were cool, but not that interesting. It got old pretty quickly, is what I'm trying to say. The arena was really cool. I didn't tour the Colosseum in Rome, but I imagine that it's very similar. I wandered around the buliding and gradually made it up to the top, where one of the towers is open. There were some amazing views of Arles and the surrounding countryside. While I really wanted to find the cafe van Gogh painted, I didn't see it and I also knew it'd be a let down so I didn't search too hard. It's apparently right by the arena. I also found a cool look-out above the arena on the hill, near one of the churches. It had a great view of the Camargue lands and of Montmajour, the abbey I went to on the art field trip. In the middle of my term paper comparing Cezanne and van Gogh, I found myself much more attuned to vision and hearing. That was very nice today. There were tons of sights, sounds, and smells. Especially in the Espace van Gogh, the hospital he lived in for a few months before going to St. Remy.
So I walked on the banks of the Rhone, toured a Roman arena, and browsed the Arlesienne market today. It was very nice, extremely sunny, and I got to eat a chicken leg with my hands in the main square in town, sitting at a fountain in front of the Hotel de Ville. I took a lot of pictures.
03 May 2008
02 May 2008
Ceremonie de Cloture
At the closing ceremonies on Tuesday, I suddenly realized what it meant that I only had two weeks left. Now, it's closer to one week. I've gotten so used to France that it's going to be really hard to be back in the states. Now, I do miss home and Boston and friends and especially family. I miss people smiling at each other in public and being able to make friends with strangers, even for a little while. But, I have made some amazing friends here and I really enjoy the life here too. I've tried to absorb myself in France, not watching TV shows that I watch at home, trying to get out into the town as much as possible, and of course people watching at cafes. My language skills are certainly better, although there's lots of room for improvement. It's becoming more natural and I can switch between languages easily now. As long as I speak French each day. Beginning French students are even able now to read some signs without needing to translate in their heads. I'm somewhat in a more advanced stage than that, since I can think in French and I don't have to set about translating things to say them. Sometimes, I accidentally take notes or speak in French when I don't want to. Words sometimes switch languages (mostly French to English) and I still cannot remember the English words for aubergine or courgette, ananas or pamplemousse. I felt really sad about leaving Aix; for all their faults I love Aix and France. Something about it just keeps bringing me back and I always end up seeking ways to come back. I might teach English for a year here after graduation. I may also apply to Erasmus Mundus to do graduate school here, which would involve 3+ European universities. It'd be cheaper, too! When I look back to the reverse culture shock I felt this summer, I know it's going to be even worse. I'll miss looking out of the city and seeing wooded hills. There's something more earthy about the city, it's surrounded by beautiful countryside and St. Victoire still dominates the area, although it's no longer visible in centre-ville.
Today, I took a study break and sat on the fountain looking down the Cours Mirabeau towards La Rotonde. The plane trees were full of leaves, the yellow Bibemus-stone buildings were shining in the provençal sun, and the yellow, red, and violet banners that the city put up advertising city events were glowing with color. With views like this, Impressionism was inevitable.
I've learned so much and gained new interest in lots of new subjects: painting/seeing, international relations and the way the global economy/system works, trends throughout history, literature and writing, etc., etc. I've found new inspiration to study harder and work on my own to make myself better at what I do. I realized things about life and about working. You must immerse yourself in what interests you and work hard. To make yourself into something, you really need to think about it, practice it, learn it, and then do it. And, even though I want to sometimes, you can't do it all and you have to pick and choose things to focus on. If you try to do too much, you can't get good at anything. Even the best experts/players/writers/etc. can get better.
And, just sitting at a cafe with friends and talking over a couple drinks for multiple hours is actually fun. Talking about things just might be underrated right now. I am very big into this right now. Perfect timing, now that I am leaving for a (in reality) cafe-less land.
It is really stimulating to always be at the ready to speak another language. Your mind is always ready to switch. It must be like how a soldier is always ready to shoot in battle. You've got to be ready in case someone shoots French your way. They expect quick, clear responses. Anyway, I just now realized why my mind would get tired so quickly this semester. That's it, above. It's just plain tiring.
So...I think part of the "post-partum depression" of leaving here is just the lack of constant stimulation. But it's also the colors of the buildings and the soil, the food, the sounds of the city, the friends you've made, the things you've done, and the sudden realization that what you've been waiting for since you were a Freshman in college is suddenly over. And it was all going so well. Next, you have a year to end college, which you've been waiting for your whole life. And you still don't feel as old, wise, or mature as you thought you would. It's been a great semester, and I've enjoyed getting to know everyone here. It's been a wild and crazy adventure.
Walking to Cafe Mirabeau to show Caroline's mom where all the stories happened, Caroline and I suddenly remembered our first conversation, when we met at Cafe Mirabeau, about possibly hiking around Mt. Blanc for spring break. Instead, we went to Italy and to Spain together and have become very close. Or, when I met Lauren at Crepes a Go Go and told her that her name would be easy to remember because she's also a tall blonde. Or not knowing Andy at all until we planned our Italy trip and he whipped out a "that's what she said." Set the course and put the wind in the sails. Thinking back to orientation day (listening to Mdm Martin, glad that she wasn't going to be teaching me--surprise!) or the moment Billy came in late because he missed his plane kin Jersey while we were eating chicken slow-cooked in a delicious mustard sauce with Patricia's friends the day after I got here or walking into the Cave a l'Huiles to hear Paul make a speech, or even getting picked up at the airport by Paul and Yamina and thinking "wow, these people are crazy! It's going to be an interesting semester," or even just sitting around at the Amsterdam airport and seeing Maeve and Brittany and not daring to talk to either of them until Brittany pulled out her Village in the Vaucluse... I look back and think about how I looked forward to this period, wondering what the hell I'd have done, learned, and seen. It was nothing like anything I imagined and I enjoyed almost every second of it. If anyone is reading this from IAU, thank you.
Today, I took a study break and sat on the fountain looking down the Cours Mirabeau towards La Rotonde. The plane trees were full of leaves, the yellow Bibemus-stone buildings were shining in the provençal sun, and the yellow, red, and violet banners that the city put up advertising city events were glowing with color. With views like this, Impressionism was inevitable.
I've learned so much and gained new interest in lots of new subjects: painting/seeing, international relations and the way the global economy/system works, trends throughout history, literature and writing, etc., etc. I've found new inspiration to study harder and work on my own to make myself better at what I do. I realized things about life and about working. You must immerse yourself in what interests you and work hard. To make yourself into something, you really need to think about it, practice it, learn it, and then do it. And, even though I want to sometimes, you can't do it all and you have to pick and choose things to focus on. If you try to do too much, you can't get good at anything. Even the best experts/players/writers/etc. can get better.
And, just sitting at a cafe with friends and talking over a couple drinks for multiple hours is actually fun. Talking about things just might be underrated right now. I am very big into this right now. Perfect timing, now that I am leaving for a (in reality) cafe-less land.
It is really stimulating to always be at the ready to speak another language. Your mind is always ready to switch. It must be like how a soldier is always ready to shoot in battle. You've got to be ready in case someone shoots French your way. They expect quick, clear responses. Anyway, I just now realized why my mind would get tired so quickly this semester. That's it, above. It's just plain tiring.
So...I think part of the "post-partum depression" of leaving here is just the lack of constant stimulation. But it's also the colors of the buildings and the soil, the food, the sounds of the city, the friends you've made, the things you've done, and the sudden realization that what you've been waiting for since you were a Freshman in college is suddenly over. And it was all going so well. Next, you have a year to end college, which you've been waiting for your whole life. And you still don't feel as old, wise, or mature as you thought you would. It's been a great semester, and I've enjoyed getting to know everyone here. It's been a wild and crazy adventure.
Walking to Cafe Mirabeau to show Caroline's mom where all the stories happened, Caroline and I suddenly remembered our first conversation, when we met at Cafe Mirabeau, about possibly hiking around Mt. Blanc for spring break. Instead, we went to Italy and to Spain together and have become very close. Or, when I met Lauren at Crepes a Go Go and told her that her name would be easy to remember because she's also a tall blonde. Or not knowing Andy at all until we planned our Italy trip and he whipped out a "that's what she said." Set the course and put the wind in the sails. Thinking back to orientation day (listening to Mdm Martin, glad that she wasn't going to be teaching me--surprise!) or the moment Billy came in late because he missed his plane kin Jersey while we were eating chicken slow-cooked in a delicious mustard sauce with Patricia's friends the day after I got here or walking into the Cave a l'Huiles to hear Paul make a speech, or even getting picked up at the airport by Paul and Yamina and thinking "wow, these people are crazy! It's going to be an interesting semester," or even just sitting around at the Amsterdam airport and seeing Maeve and Brittany and not daring to talk to either of them until Brittany pulled out her Village in the Vaucluse... I look back and think about how I looked forward to this period, wondering what the hell I'd have done, learned, and seen. It was nothing like anything I imagined and I enjoyed almost every second of it. If anyone is reading this from IAU, thank you.
Barcelona- shorter and still somewhat sweet
So, we spent a week in Barcelona and I wrote for a long time about the first day. I'll speed it up. Me, Andy, and Caroline spent our first days there in the apartment, in Barceloneta. It was a small studio apartment about four blocks from the beach in two different directions. It's a working class neighborhood, so laundry is hanging out of every window to dry and there were tons of little grocery stores and kebab restaurants. It was fantastic. We had two balconies, on two streets since we were in a corner apartment. We had a basic kitchen with a two burner stove, a fridge, and a microwave/oven. It was small and basic with only two minutes of water at a time. Showers were short, rare, and not relaxing at all. Every morning, we'd be woken up with the sweet smell of sewer and loud noises, like a carnival parade was passing by. It was awesome and I just saw pictures of the apartment and started to miss it. Anyway, Irina finally got there and we started to go out more and explore parts of Barcelona, since Caroline's leg had gotten a little better and she could walk some. Andy got a good soccer ball.
We didn't want to see the sights until Lauren, Matt, and Danielle arrived so that we could share the magic with them, so we just got to know our little corner of Barcelona and we went to see Park Guell, one of Gaudi's famous parks. It was awesome. We walked to the top, where a huge structure with a cross on top looks over the city. We contemplated Barca for a while and realized how big it is. I realized how much pressure sight-seeing is. More on that in the future, maybe. We played some soccer up there and then headed down to the park, which had another great view of the city, with some museums and stuff. It was awesome, and I can't even describe it without going on forever. Cause I can ramble like it's my job.
Anyway, we spent some days just lying on the beach, playing soccer and frisbee, and admiring the Med. It was like any other beach vacation, but in Barcelona, a great city. The Sevilla group arrived and we began to branch out. We still didn't do much sight-seeing, but there's value in not doing that. (Again, later.) We did go to the aquarium, which had a really cool squid tank and a huge tank in the middle, where you stand on a conveyor belt in a tube while sharks and sting rays fly over you. Awesome. After that, since it was a rainy day on and off, we went to a Japanese buffet and ate sushi, dumplings, salmon kebabs, and other forms of animals we just saw swimming in a protective environment. Andy and Irina didn't go, but they went to the other apartment with Brendan, John, and Shannon and hung out with them while we were in the aquarium. I think Andy got donner kebab afterwards. I met up with them on their way back to the apartment and we rested for the night.
I'm not sure if this was the same night, but we'll pretend. Suspend your disbelief, again. Irina had spent a month in Barcelona and knew the former owner of all the big clubs, so we got on the list of Opium. We weren't let in, though, because of our sneakers. Still, we had a great time standing in line and talking to people, meeting Irish, American (one of whom had gotten maced by the bouncers and kept trying to get in), and Swedish people. It was a fun night just hanging out on the street and seeing Barcelona happen by night.
We finally found Ice Bar. For the 15 euro cover, you are given a giant fur hat, a huge coat, and fur gloves and you enter a huge feezer, wherein everything is made of ice, including the bar, chairs, tables, glasses (pun, sort of, if you know French.), and some of the walls. There was a fire on the TV to warm you up. The cover included a drink, and they were creative. Lauren got the "picante" which was spicy. Very cool place, and I've heard there are more in other cities. The chairs had furs on them to keep you warm; it was just exciting to be in there.
Finally, we took a bike tour of the city and I ran into Chloe and Antonio from Tufts just before the tour started. It was quite a surprise but it was great to see familiar faces. The bike tour was awesome. We learned so much about places we'd been to and I really appreciated the architecture and such of Barca much more. It was a fun tour, too. We saw all the major Gaudi sights, including a long stop contemplating the Sagrada Famiglia. Biking through the busy streets of Barca was harrowing. In just a few hours, we biked through the tiny, twisting Gothic quarter and the straight, regular blocks of the "Extension." It's a must-do in this city.
Barca was amazing, but I got back to France and practically couldn't speak French. I had been really paying attention to Catalan and Spanish and absorbing their sounds. I figured I ought to, since I'm beginning Spanish next semester. But, I was amazed at how Spanish much I could figure out. I do miss Barca and the apartment, and I hope to spend more time there in the future. It's truly an amazing city and there's so much there I have yet to do.
Last note:
Coming back into France, the Spanish boarder control guard checked all of our passports. I thought that was odd. Then, we drove 20 feet and the French guard checked all of our passports. The world is truly a strange place.
We didn't want to see the sights until Lauren, Matt, and Danielle arrived so that we could share the magic with them, so we just got to know our little corner of Barcelona and we went to see Park Guell, one of Gaudi's famous parks. It was awesome. We walked to the top, where a huge structure with a cross on top looks over the city. We contemplated Barca for a while and realized how big it is. I realized how much pressure sight-seeing is. More on that in the future, maybe. We played some soccer up there and then headed down to the park, which had another great view of the city, with some museums and stuff. It was awesome, and I can't even describe it without going on forever. Cause I can ramble like it's my job.
Anyway, we spent some days just lying on the beach, playing soccer and frisbee, and admiring the Med. It was like any other beach vacation, but in Barcelona, a great city. The Sevilla group arrived and we began to branch out. We still didn't do much sight-seeing, but there's value in not doing that. (Again, later.) We did go to the aquarium, which had a really cool squid tank and a huge tank in the middle, where you stand on a conveyor belt in a tube while sharks and sting rays fly over you. Awesome. After that, since it was a rainy day on and off, we went to a Japanese buffet and ate sushi, dumplings, salmon kebabs, and other forms of animals we just saw swimming in a protective environment. Andy and Irina didn't go, but they went to the other apartment with Brendan, John, and Shannon and hung out with them while we were in the aquarium. I think Andy got donner kebab afterwards. I met up with them on their way back to the apartment and we rested for the night.
I'm not sure if this was the same night, but we'll pretend. Suspend your disbelief, again. Irina had spent a month in Barcelona and knew the former owner of all the big clubs, so we got on the list of Opium. We weren't let in, though, because of our sneakers. Still, we had a great time standing in line and talking to people, meeting Irish, American (one of whom had gotten maced by the bouncers and kept trying to get in), and Swedish people. It was a fun night just hanging out on the street and seeing Barcelona happen by night.
We finally found Ice Bar. For the 15 euro cover, you are given a giant fur hat, a huge coat, and fur gloves and you enter a huge feezer, wherein everything is made of ice, including the bar, chairs, tables, glasses (pun, sort of, if you know French.), and some of the walls. There was a fire on the TV to warm you up. The cover included a drink, and they were creative. Lauren got the "picante" which was spicy. Very cool place, and I've heard there are more in other cities. The chairs had furs on them to keep you warm; it was just exciting to be in there.
Finally, we took a bike tour of the city and I ran into Chloe and Antonio from Tufts just before the tour started. It was quite a surprise but it was great to see familiar faces. The bike tour was awesome. We learned so much about places we'd been to and I really appreciated the architecture and such of Barca much more. It was a fun tour, too. We saw all the major Gaudi sights, including a long stop contemplating the Sagrada Famiglia. Biking through the busy streets of Barca was harrowing. In just a few hours, we biked through the tiny, twisting Gothic quarter and the straight, regular blocks of the "Extension." It's a must-do in this city.
Barca was amazing, but I got back to France and practically couldn't speak French. I had been really paying attention to Catalan and Spanish and absorbing their sounds. I figured I ought to, since I'm beginning Spanish next semester. But, I was amazed at how Spanish much I could figure out. I do miss Barca and the apartment, and I hope to spend more time there in the future. It's truly an amazing city and there's so much there I have yet to do.
Last note:
Coming back into France, the Spanish boarder control guard checked all of our passports. I thought that was odd. Then, we drove 20 feet and the French guard checked all of our passports. The world is truly a strange place.
28 April 2008
Barthelona- Day 1
Friday, April 11, some friends and I took an overnight bus at 11 pm from Aix to Barcelona. After a night of trying to sleep unsuccessfully in a crowded bus that stopped every two hours so the driver could smoke, we arrived at 6 am in Barcelona, hallucinating with fatigue. We split up there, three of us going to our hostel for the night and four of us heading to the airport for a noon flight to Sevilla for the festival. After ringing the hostel bell many times, we were let in and we stored our bags in a closet in the dorm area. After a breakfast beer from the vending machines, we napped a little in the lounge and then headed down town to get acquainted to the city. We bought metro tickets and headed towards La Rambla, the major avenue in the port part of the city. Starting at Placa de Catalunya, we headed toward the sea in a current of tourists, locals, street performers, human statues, pet stores, news stands, and flower shops. The coral-like news, flower, and animal stands (with chickens, chinchilla, rabbits, lizards, turtles, birds of various sorts, and ducks) attracted tourists with bright colors and interesting sights. The clowns buzzed through the crowd, working it for a euro or two, dodging in and out of stands and through currents of people. Human statues waited like patient sea horses, attached to their tiny stages and standing perfectly still in rehearsed posture. Some performers crawled into tiny boxes or nooks and startle people when they came to near or when they tossed change in the tip bowls. Pouring out of the narrow confines of the street, the tourist current poofed into a mushroom shaped as La Rambla widened near the traffic circle at the port end. Breakdancers and acrobats stretched, twisted, and twirled, ooh-ing and ahh-ing the crowd.
We stopped in a kebab shop for a real lunch/breakfast. I love kebab. I don't like hunger, so it was a perfect fit. This one (we'd return) had a self-serve topping bar, so I piled pickled carrots on my kebab. Andy, Caroline, and I simply couldn't believe we were in Barcelona, on La Rambla, and weren't going to buy a chicken. I mean, it'd give eggs all week and then we could fry it up the last night we had the apartment and eat fried chicken. Sounds like a good investment, right? Well, Caroline didn't think she could stomach it and I didn't feel like taking care of a chicken all week in a tiny studio apartment just to kill it 6 days later for some good old Amurrican foo'. Finally making it out of the crowd on La Rambla, we headed toward Port Vell across the port-side avenue and aimed straight for the big silver thing on the dock: the mall Mare Magnum. We found a Starbuck's there and we all got caramel macchiatos, Andy iced, and had a giggle fest, that Andy of course filmed. We were drunk from tiredness and caffeine/sugar high. We walked around the mall a bit and checked out H&M. I wanted white linen pants, but their's were too expensive and not the right style. Andy tried on some graphic T's and I advised Caroline on jackets, which all ended up looking like Lauren's. So we didn't buy anything, but we had a good time trying things on, dancing in the store, and taking pictures of ourselves in railroad conductor hats. Halfway back up La Rambla towards Placa Catalunya, Caroline discovered that she'd been pickpocketed. We raced back to the mall to see if she'd simply forgotten her wallet at Starbuck's. No luck. I've never used Western Union before, but now I at least know what's it's like.
We returned to the hostel to check in and we took naps. Caroline and I woke up around 7:00 to find a grocery store to buy dinner. We walked for an hour, Caroline limping because of a spider-bite on her leg that made her calf swell up like Popeye's bicep after eating spinach. We got big bottles of Spanish beer (San Miguel, we hadn't discovered Damm yet, though both are just OK), yogurt, fruit, delicious frozen lasagna, and some superb chocolate mousse. The hostel was great and Andy and I talked to a Canadian who had spent 6 months in France teaching English to French teaching students about to take the Concours. I plan to do this program after graduating and I learned some interesting facts and advice. We discussed the French, French culture, politics, Sarkozy and the suppressed love for emperors, and French policies on dog poop in the streets. Later, he told us about a mysterious man he met in a Nice hostel who claimed to be able to enter people's heads. He was a "Buddhist" and he insisted that there were people in the bathroom. The Canadian claimed that he once felt like someone was inhabiting his mind and the Buddhist claimed that he contacted the guy's family. The Buddhist was a little nuts, answered personal questions by asking the same question back and agreeing with the response, and left his wet wet-suit out on the beds after playing in the Nice surf only up to his knees. I fell asleep laughing.
We stopped in a kebab shop for a real lunch/breakfast. I love kebab. I don't like hunger, so it was a perfect fit. This one (we'd return) had a self-serve topping bar, so I piled pickled carrots on my kebab. Andy, Caroline, and I simply couldn't believe we were in Barcelona, on La Rambla, and weren't going to buy a chicken. I mean, it'd give eggs all week and then we could fry it up the last night we had the apartment and eat fried chicken. Sounds like a good investment, right? Well, Caroline didn't think she could stomach it and I didn't feel like taking care of a chicken all week in a tiny studio apartment just to kill it 6 days later for some good old Amurrican foo'. Finally making it out of the crowd on La Rambla, we headed toward Port Vell across the port-side avenue and aimed straight for the big silver thing on the dock: the mall Mare Magnum. We found a Starbuck's there and we all got caramel macchiatos, Andy iced, and had a giggle fest, that Andy of course filmed. We were drunk from tiredness and caffeine/sugar high. We walked around the mall a bit and checked out H&M. I wanted white linen pants, but their's were too expensive and not the right style. Andy tried on some graphic T's and I advised Caroline on jackets, which all ended up looking like Lauren's. So we didn't buy anything, but we had a good time trying things on, dancing in the store, and taking pictures of ourselves in railroad conductor hats. Halfway back up La Rambla towards Placa Catalunya, Caroline discovered that she'd been pickpocketed. We raced back to the mall to see if she'd simply forgotten her wallet at Starbuck's. No luck. I've never used Western Union before, but now I at least know what's it's like.
We returned to the hostel to check in and we took naps. Caroline and I woke up around 7:00 to find a grocery store to buy dinner. We walked for an hour, Caroline limping because of a spider-bite on her leg that made her calf swell up like Popeye's bicep after eating spinach. We got big bottles of Spanish beer (San Miguel, we hadn't discovered Damm yet, though both are just OK), yogurt, fruit, delicious frozen lasagna, and some superb chocolate mousse. The hostel was great and Andy and I talked to a Canadian who had spent 6 months in France teaching English to French teaching students about to take the Concours. I plan to do this program after graduating and I learned some interesting facts and advice. We discussed the French, French culture, politics, Sarkozy and the suppressed love for emperors, and French policies on dog poop in the streets. Later, he told us about a mysterious man he met in a Nice hostel who claimed to be able to enter people's heads. He was a "Buddhist" and he insisted that there were people in the bathroom. The Canadian claimed that he once felt like someone was inhabiting his mind and the Buddhist claimed that he contacted the guy's family. The Buddhist was a little nuts, answered personal questions by asking the same question back and agreeing with the response, and left his wet wet-suit out on the beds after playing in the Nice surf only up to his knees. I fell asleep laughing.
07 April 2008
Salon-de-Provence
Today, I went to Salon, a little town NW of Aix about 30 minutes. I went straight to the chateau, but it opened in the afternoon, so I got a map of the city and took a few suggested tours. First, I walked around the old part of the city, saw Nostradamus's house, a cool clock tower that showed the phases of the moon and stars, some cool old buildings, and an old gate to the city. Then, I did a quick architectural tour of the city that was mostly on the outskirts of one side of the city. I had lunch (kebab, of course) in a park and just enjoyed the Provencal sun a bit. I went back to Nostradamus's house, which has been converted into a museum. It's really awful. I thought it would have his study and his books and stuff, but it was completely rennovated and had a bunch of little rooms with wax sculptures posed in time-period outfits. A terrible narration was blasted through cheap speakers and told really random, uninformative and uninteresting details of his life and work. The narration also had the effect of forcing you along the museum at a predetermined rate (about 45 minutes), so I couldn't even just sit and enjoy what few artifacts they had (xerox copies of his notebooks). It was only 2 euros, so I can't complain and I got a lot of laughs listening to English people talk about the relationship between the Sun, the Moon, Jupiter, Venus and Mars. The tape had random really long breaks, so I would just sit there in silence and darkness waiting for the lights to come back on or a voice to speak. I went back up to the Chateau and got free admission to the museum. The chateau was the residence of the archbishop of Arles and was taken by the state during the Revolution. Now it is a semi-independent arms museum that is run jointly by l'hotel des Invalides in Paris. They had some cool medieval armor from the 14th+ centuries with crossbows and stuff. But, most of the museum was French army uniforms and sabers throughout the centuries and wars. Half of the museum was dedicated to Napoleon's wars and I saw his bed from the island where he was exiled for the second time. The exterior of the castle had some cool views of the city and the main churches (the big one was being rennovated, unfortunately). I also just remembered that I never went inside the small one, l'eglise de Saint Michel. The cool thing was that everything that had bells rang right when I went to see it. The smaller church rang for noon when I was there. I ended up just walking all over the little city center. It was really small, but looked big on the map. I'm way backed up on pictures and my computer doesn't have much memory, so it's going to be a while until I get pictures up. Perhaps more details about the city when I look at the pictures.
Oh, the most interesting part was going to the backside of the castle and seeing how the architecture interacted with the rock of the cliff that the castle was built on. I have pictures.
Oh, the most interesting part was going to the backside of the castle and seeing how the architecture interacted with the rock of the cliff that the castle was built on. I have pictures.
06 April 2008
Towns in Provence--started a while ago, finished 28 April
I forgot that I still haven't written about any towns I've been to lately. Here's a summary, for my own memory as well.
Les Baux- An old fortress and stronghold that was only conquered by France during the reign of Louis XIII. It has its own olive appellation and is well known for its olives and olive oil. It is a really cool perched town, with the church and castle ruins on the top of the rocky hill. One reason it's so cool is how the town and castle are built into the cliffs. The kings claimed to be descendants of one of the wise men who visited Jesus after his birth. Anyway, they ruled the area with an iron fist and were known to through people off the castle walls into la vallée d'enfer. The valley of hell is a small valley on one side of the castle with mounds of exposed rock that has been shaped into hellish figures by the mistral. The rock has been a quarry for a long time, maybe since the Romans or at least early medieval times, and one of these quarries has been turned into a place called la Cathédrale d'Images. The owner put a bunch of projectors and speakers in the quarry and he projects paintings and things and plays a soundtrack. This year, the theme is Van Gogh. It was probably the coolest thing I've seen in years. All of the walls were covered in paintings that would shift and change as the slideshow progressed. The music and the paintings reflected each other and the increasing turbulence of his life. Anyway, Les Baux is one of my favorite towns I've seen.
St. Rémy- It's a small little town and I've been to it twice now, but not for very long either time. This is where Van Gogh interned himself in the asylum after the whole ear-cutting-off thing and a few months after the townspeople of Arles got fed up with him. After living in a hospital in Arles for a couple months, he checked himself in to the asylum in St. Remy. Also, Albert Shweitzer, a German philosopher, was put here during WWII as a POW. The asylum is still functioning, but one wing has a mock-up of Van Gogh's room and faces the same direction as his room, where he painted Starry Night, among other things. There is a big olive orchard nearby and tons of gardens around, all of which he painted--think Irises and Sunflowers. The town itself is a small little town with remnants of the medieval wall. Like all little French towns, there is an exterior circular boulevard just on the outside of the wall and most of the wall is now made of houses, stores, and cafes. It's a pretty little place. The road to St. Remy is lined with plane trees to provide shade during the hot summer months. Very pretty. It's near the Alpilles (little Alps) so there are cool little mountains around it. Also, Brad Pitt just bought a house in the area.
Arles- I didn't spend much time there this past weekend on my art history field trip, but I am returning next Saturday for its world-famous market (much cheaper than the one in Aix). There's a cool Roman arena where they still hold bull fights. They don't kill the bull except for the Spanish style fights held 2x a year. I'd have gone if I knew...There are Roman baths built by Constantine and the Rhone flows through the town. This is where Van Gogh became Van Gogh and where he painted some of his most known paintings, like the interior of his bedroom, the night cafe, the exterior of a few cafes at night, and one of the Rhone. His Yellow House was bombed by the Americans during WWII who were aiming at a train station nearby. The Night Cafe was also bombed. The site now holds a Monoprix. Also the square outside the house was redesigned with a huge fountain in the middle of a traffic circle. It's literally blocks from the Rhone. I also saw the hospital where Van Gogh lived for a few months after the ear episode and after Gauguin left Arles and the townspeople had his studio in the Yellow House locked up so he would stop acting so strange. It's a cool town and it is at the northern tip of the world famous Camargue. It's known for its white horses, salt flats/sea salt harvets, and bull ranches. It's cowboy country! Also home to a cool little monastery (half in ruins, half restored) called Montmajour. When it was built in the 12th Century, the surrounding area was sea/bog/swamp and it was only accessible by boat. Some of the monks are actually buried in the rock. I'll have more to say about this place after this coming weekend, maybe. Oh, and some restaurants serve bull steaks. I opted for the aioli provencale, with morue (a white fish), escargots, potatoes, carrot, and green beans.
Lacoste- I didn't go to it, but I saw it from another perched medieval village opposite the valley. The large castle in the middle was owned by the Marquis de Sade. I'd like to visit in the future.
The other village (I forgot the name the very day we drove through it) was really cool. The hillside was terraced and the town was built on the terraces, so it was really zigzaggy and beautiful. Very unique looking from outside the village looking at the hillside. Medieval church on top with the chateau ruins and a Renaissance/Enlightenment one further down. John Malkovich apparently has a home here. I'm jealous. This is one of those villages where you realize how medieval villages were designed with very practical concerns in mind-- notably not dying in a raid. Consequently, you cannot be afraid of heights here. They built huge stuff in the most inaccessible places on high cliffs in tremendous winds. The mistral has even weakened within the last 50 years and I was still afraid of falling over in some of these towns.
Salon-de-Provence-- I wrote a post about my visit there. When I told my host mother that I went there, she said "Oh. OK..." Nothing really to say but that.
I don't have enough memory on my computer to upload pictures, so I haven't done that in a while. I'm going to get blank CDs to store the photos so I don't have to keep them on my computer. Big spring cleaning projects for my computer ahead. The point is that I can't remember other towns I've been to or their names. One was simply the old medieval town on a hill with the chateau and church in ruins. I can't remember the name, but I took lots of pictures and explored the ruins quite a bit. The town I visited just before that one was also cool, but I can't remember the name either. I need my pictures for all that, so I'll add more info to this post after I do all those boring computer-organization chores.
Since this is quickly becoming a repository for notes I'll go ahead and add that I need to write a post on my Cezanne site visit and on the Van Gogh one. I'm about to write ones about Spring Break in Barcelona and about my past Sunday exploring the countryside to the west of Aix and experiencing Carnaval in Aix. Also, of sitting in a cafe doing homework and writing in my journal for a few hours.
Les Baux- An old fortress and stronghold that was only conquered by France during the reign of Louis XIII. It has its own olive appellation and is well known for its olives and olive oil. It is a really cool perched town, with the church and castle ruins on the top of the rocky hill. One reason it's so cool is how the town and castle are built into the cliffs. The kings claimed to be descendants of one of the wise men who visited Jesus after his birth. Anyway, they ruled the area with an iron fist and were known to through people off the castle walls into la vallée d'enfer. The valley of hell is a small valley on one side of the castle with mounds of exposed rock that has been shaped into hellish figures by the mistral. The rock has been a quarry for a long time, maybe since the Romans or at least early medieval times, and one of these quarries has been turned into a place called la Cathédrale d'Images. The owner put a bunch of projectors and speakers in the quarry and he projects paintings and things and plays a soundtrack. This year, the theme is Van Gogh. It was probably the coolest thing I've seen in years. All of the walls were covered in paintings that would shift and change as the slideshow progressed. The music and the paintings reflected each other and the increasing turbulence of his life. Anyway, Les Baux is one of my favorite towns I've seen.
St. Rémy- It's a small little town and I've been to it twice now, but not for very long either time. This is where Van Gogh interned himself in the asylum after the whole ear-cutting-off thing and a few months after the townspeople of Arles got fed up with him. After living in a hospital in Arles for a couple months, he checked himself in to the asylum in St. Remy. Also, Albert Shweitzer, a German philosopher, was put here during WWII as a POW. The asylum is still functioning, but one wing has a mock-up of Van Gogh's room and faces the same direction as his room, where he painted Starry Night, among other things. There is a big olive orchard nearby and tons of gardens around, all of which he painted--think Irises and Sunflowers. The town itself is a small little town with remnants of the medieval wall. Like all little French towns, there is an exterior circular boulevard just on the outside of the wall and most of the wall is now made of houses, stores, and cafes. It's a pretty little place. The road to St. Remy is lined with plane trees to provide shade during the hot summer months. Very pretty. It's near the Alpilles (little Alps) so there are cool little mountains around it. Also, Brad Pitt just bought a house in the area.
Arles- I didn't spend much time there this past weekend on my art history field trip, but I am returning next Saturday for its world-famous market (much cheaper than the one in Aix). There's a cool Roman arena where they still hold bull fights. They don't kill the bull except for the Spanish style fights held 2x a year. I'd have gone if I knew...There are Roman baths built by Constantine and the Rhone flows through the town. This is where Van Gogh became Van Gogh and where he painted some of his most known paintings, like the interior of his bedroom, the night cafe, the exterior of a few cafes at night, and one of the Rhone. His Yellow House was bombed by the Americans during WWII who were aiming at a train station nearby. The Night Cafe was also bombed. The site now holds a Monoprix. Also the square outside the house was redesigned with a huge fountain in the middle of a traffic circle. It's literally blocks from the Rhone. I also saw the hospital where Van Gogh lived for a few months after the ear episode and after Gauguin left Arles and the townspeople had his studio in the Yellow House locked up so he would stop acting so strange. It's a cool town and it is at the northern tip of the world famous Camargue. It's known for its white horses, salt flats/sea salt harvets, and bull ranches. It's cowboy country! Also home to a cool little monastery (half in ruins, half restored) called Montmajour. When it was built in the 12th Century, the surrounding area was sea/bog/swamp and it was only accessible by boat. Some of the monks are actually buried in the rock. I'll have more to say about this place after this coming weekend, maybe. Oh, and some restaurants serve bull steaks. I opted for the aioli provencale, with morue (a white fish), escargots, potatoes, carrot, and green beans.
Lacoste- I didn't go to it, but I saw it from another perched medieval village opposite the valley. The large castle in the middle was owned by the Marquis de Sade. I'd like to visit in the future.
The other village (I forgot the name the very day we drove through it) was really cool. The hillside was terraced and the town was built on the terraces, so it was really zigzaggy and beautiful. Very unique looking from outside the village looking at the hillside. Medieval church on top with the chateau ruins and a Renaissance/Enlightenment one further down. John Malkovich apparently has a home here. I'm jealous. This is one of those villages where you realize how medieval villages were designed with very practical concerns in mind-- notably not dying in a raid. Consequently, you cannot be afraid of heights here. They built huge stuff in the most inaccessible places on high cliffs in tremendous winds. The mistral has even weakened within the last 50 years and I was still afraid of falling over in some of these towns.
Salon-de-Provence-- I wrote a post about my visit there. When I told my host mother that I went there, she said "Oh. OK..." Nothing really to say but that.
I don't have enough memory on my computer to upload pictures, so I haven't done that in a while. I'm going to get blank CDs to store the photos so I don't have to keep them on my computer. Big spring cleaning projects for my computer ahead. The point is that I can't remember other towns I've been to or their names. One was simply the old medieval town on a hill with the chateau and church in ruins. I can't remember the name, but I took lots of pictures and explored the ruins quite a bit. The town I visited just before that one was also cool, but I can't remember the name either. I need my pictures for all that, so I'll add more info to this post after I do all those boring computer-organization chores.
Since this is quickly becoming a repository for notes I'll go ahead and add that I need to write a post on my Cezanne site visit and on the Van Gogh one. I'm about to write ones about Spring Break in Barcelona and about my past Sunday exploring the countryside to the west of Aix and experiencing Carnaval in Aix. Also, of sitting in a cafe doing homework and writing in my journal for a few hours.
La BD s'attaque au musée!
Last Friday was a busy day. I am starting to really figure out my plans for May 11-26 and I got a Cartreize card, which lets me travel around Bouches-du-Rhône département for a euro each way. I planned to go to Arles yesterday, but the bus I planned to catch was scheduled for every day but Saturday. Arles has a cool market and I've been wanting to go. Hopefully, I'll make it there during our Van Gogh site visit or sometime in May. I ended up at the market in Aix and I got a reallly cool little Provencal pocketknife. (It is small with a wooden handle and a cicada decoration on the back.) Today, I'm doing homework and enjoying the sun, but I plan on going to Cassis or la Ciotat tomorrow for hiking or Salon de Provence and Orange, which has the best Roman ruins in the area.
Anyway, I went to the Musée Granet finally. I started out in the permanent collection with 16th century Christian art with lots of gold leaf and stuff. Eventually, I found a collection of more modern painting. First, there was the early Ingres painting of Napoleon/Jupiter that shows a massive Jupiter sitting on his throne. Napoleon's eagle sits next to the throne. It emanates authority. There were a couple of Cezannes from the Impressionist period of the 1870s, but one of the canvases was turned around to show four sketches in paint on the back. There was a still life, a figure/portrait, a quick landscape, and a bather picture (I think). It was really interesting to see because it showed his work on the cusp of his transition into his 1880s style. This section also has some interesting moderns from the 1920s-1950s, including Paul Klee, Giacometti, Mondrian, and F. Leger. Seeing these paintings in person is a totally different experience than looking at them through slides. In particular, they layered paint really well, making interesting contrasts between levels of paint, mixtures of color, and textures. Later, I went to a room devoted to Cezanne's followers and those that knew him towards the end of his life, including Joachim Gasquet, Bernard, and Achille Emperaire. It was interesting to see how each of the artists took something from him and developed it on their own. I had never seen any Achille Emperaire paintings, and they were strangely modern and academic at the same time. I really liked that part of the museum and I plan on going back there next Thursday afternoon.
The temporary exhibition right now is comics and their relations to museums. They call comics the 9th art and they talk about how unrespected comic writers are. The exhibit tracks the development of the comic especially in relation to depictions of museums, many of which are really bitter and sarcastic. The museum kind of comes off as a villain or as a place of mystery in a lot of these comics, especially museums of art in early comic books. I'm talking about comics like Tintin, of course, not Batman or Fantastic Four. It was a really interesting exhibit. It featured reproductions of the first two cartoons-the first made from paper cut-outs about dinosaurs or hell of something and the second drawn and live-action about a dinosaur. The second was more interesting and there were chairs to sit down on, so I watched that one. It told the tale of a group of men who go to a museum and see a dinosaur skeleton. One makes a bet that another cannot bring the dinosaur back to life. He takes the bet and spends a few months drawing pictures, which become the really choppy, stilted, cartoon of a dinosaur modeled very closely after a dog. It's really imaginative though and it was worth sitting through.
The most interesting thing about the whole exhibit was not the comics. The exhibit was completely dark except for the light from the cartoons. Before going in, they give you a little flashlight with a laser pointer on it. You have to illuminate everything you want to see. I'm not sure what the point was exactly, but it was a cool experience and a fun idea. Except when a group of middle schoolers came in a played with the laser pointers on the screen where I was watching the cartoon of Gertie, the dinosaur.
Anyway, I went to the Musée Granet finally. I started out in the permanent collection with 16th century Christian art with lots of gold leaf and stuff. Eventually, I found a collection of more modern painting. First, there was the early Ingres painting of Napoleon/Jupiter that shows a massive Jupiter sitting on his throne. Napoleon's eagle sits next to the throne. It emanates authority. There were a couple of Cezannes from the Impressionist period of the 1870s, but one of the canvases was turned around to show four sketches in paint on the back. There was a still life, a figure/portrait, a quick landscape, and a bather picture (I think). It was really interesting to see because it showed his work on the cusp of his transition into his 1880s style. This section also has some interesting moderns from the 1920s-1950s, including Paul Klee, Giacometti, Mondrian, and F. Leger. Seeing these paintings in person is a totally different experience than looking at them through slides. In particular, they layered paint really well, making interesting contrasts between levels of paint, mixtures of color, and textures. Later, I went to a room devoted to Cezanne's followers and those that knew him towards the end of his life, including Joachim Gasquet, Bernard, and Achille Emperaire. It was interesting to see how each of the artists took something from him and developed it on their own. I had never seen any Achille Emperaire paintings, and they were strangely modern and academic at the same time. I really liked that part of the museum and I plan on going back there next Thursday afternoon.
The temporary exhibition right now is comics and their relations to museums. They call comics the 9th art and they talk about how unrespected comic writers are. The exhibit tracks the development of the comic especially in relation to depictions of museums, many of which are really bitter and sarcastic. The museum kind of comes off as a villain or as a place of mystery in a lot of these comics, especially museums of art in early comic books. I'm talking about comics like Tintin, of course, not Batman or Fantastic Four. It was a really interesting exhibit. It featured reproductions of the first two cartoons-the first made from paper cut-outs about dinosaurs or hell of something and the second drawn and live-action about a dinosaur. The second was more interesting and there were chairs to sit down on, so I watched that one. It told the tale of a group of men who go to a museum and see a dinosaur skeleton. One makes a bet that another cannot bring the dinosaur back to life. He takes the bet and spends a few months drawing pictures, which become the really choppy, stilted, cartoon of a dinosaur modeled very closely after a dog. It's really imaginative though and it was worth sitting through.
The most interesting thing about the whole exhibit was not the comics. The exhibit was completely dark except for the light from the cartoons. Before going in, they give you a little flashlight with a laser pointer on it. You have to illuminate everything you want to see. I'm not sure what the point was exactly, but it was a cool experience and a fun idea. Except when a group of middle schoolers came in a played with the laser pointers on the screen where I was watching the cartoon of Gertie, the dinosaur.
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