Ponies in Paris

Notre 13e Semaine: Return to Paris

2008-11-30T13:48:00.001-08:00

After 3 weekends away from the city and almost no time spent here in between, it was really great to get reacquainted. Although we did have a little help from some friends.

Go to Week 13 photos on Flickr

Laura comes to Gay Paris

This week, Iris's good friend Laura was in town, which meant it was time to explore, and time to party. On Monday, Laura I strolled around town finding her old haunts so she could relive her previous trip to Paris. She showed me the upside-down pyramid in the Louvre (that's the one at the end of The Da Vinci Code – and Nat just found a used copy of the book so we can find the other sites around town) which I could never seem to find, although I'm not sure how I missed the entire underground mall - a mall that houses the food court where author David Sedaris says he takes all his guests for lunch. I was excited, and placed myself in many tourists' photos. Smile!

We also stumbled upon a red carpet affair in what I believe was the national archives library. The crew was just setting up, and our curiosity was piqued so we strolled into the sprawling courtyard and Laura rolls right up to these strangers and basically says (in French): "Hey how are you guys? What's going on here?" The combination of politeness meets semi-trespassing was too much to handle and eventually after learning about the event (and Laura inquiring about tickets), we were quickly shuffled out of there.

"What's going on here?"

Iris and Nat joined us for family dinner night where we downed several Amsterdam Navigator beers - 8.4% - that Iris brought along. (As an aside, I discovered a couple of days later that Amsterdam makes an even more potent concoction called the Maximator which clocks in at 11.6%). When the beer was gone, we left the warm apartment and headed to a bar, of course. After emerging from the metro station we realized we actually had no idea where the bar was but Laura needed to break the seal and quickly "navigated" herself toward a nearby church. This cracked us up to no end. She then approached everyone in sight with her now slurred French to get directions or to just tell the crepe-stand man, a perfect stranger, how much she loved him.

Ready to hit the town.

We finally got to the Princess and the Frog and were happily enjoying our pitcher of Ginger Twist homebrew when the group of French boys behind us decided to flirt with the girls in a manner reminiscent of kindergarten. Spit balls torn from coasters soared over the tables until Laura ended the dispute with a perfectly aimed toss directly into their pitcher. Then we all made friends, some more friendly than others, and we chatted (or later they all danced on the tables) during the rest of our stay.

What intrigued me about this adventure was that despite the fact that everyone was quite drunk the French guys were still so quick to correct our grammar and pronunciation. And this is something that everyone in Paris does; perhaps it's a patriotic duty. It's not good enough to attempt to speak their language, you have to be reminded at every corner that you still don't get it. And although it is at most times helpful for me to have these impromptu lessons, it really is quite hypocritical; you know the very moment an Anglophone tried to fix their English tenses (unsolicited of course), the whole country would pack up the language in a heart beat and we'd all be screwed.

Light up the town

Wednesday evening I met Nat on the Champs Elysee to watch the lighting of the Christmas lights. We were rather vague on the details so there was a lot of time spent wondering what was happening. On the way there I stopped at Place Concorde and saw a beautiful white ferris wheel (only 9E a ride, get real!) which is probably there for the season. Later on the Champs I could see that the wheel was placed exactly in line with the rest of the monuments on the Historical Axis. The French are so anal, I love it.

Only 9E. A steal!

Hieroglyphics and amusement rides.

Such precision.

After touring the Christmas Market (quite similar to Vienna in terms of offering) we stood on an island in the middle of the street waiting for something to happen. Hey, other people were already there, so in true mob mentality fashion, we just figured they knew something that we didn't. Really I don't think anybody had a clue but we got to watch several motorcycles drive on the wrong side of the street so they could get ahead of a few cars. We finally left and found the tiny media event where Marion Cotillard (whom we couldn't see) pressed a button an in complete anti-climax, the whole block light up in that cool LED glow. It was pretty beautiful, especially the animating lights meant to look like dripping icicles but which Myra later called bird droppings.

Ooooooh.

Metal sculptures that frost over. Was pretty cool.

Other related items:

Friday we found lights set up on Rue Mouffetard.

Floating chandelier.

Regardez! It's plaster of Paris, in Paris!

Les petites bourgeoisies qui boient du champagne

DISCLAIMER: Photos of mostly-naked men.

So on an ordinary Wednesday night, Nat let herself be transported back to the age of 21 by a trip to Disco Queen on the Champs Elysees, led by none other than the champion party girl herself: Iris! Nat and her MBA friend Peggy (who's from California) met up with Iris, Laura and their friends for Ladies' Night! This included free cover, a free drink at the door, free champagne (at designated times – and signaled by fire torches), great music and male entertainment. We danced up a storm with the girls and partied like it was 1999 – literally. It’s FUN hanging out with 21-year-olds, especially ones with no inhibitions.

At Champagne time, the bartenders would throw plastic cups into the crowd and then pour bottles of champagne into them – sometimes in a rather Freudian manner, or sometimes even straight into the girls’ mouths (or hair! There were a few wet cat situations). The "entertainment" was hilarious too, with muscle-headed, steroid-infested guys up on mini-stages shaking their thing in a wildly provocative manner while surreptitiously handing their clothing items to a nerdy "helper" guy on the ground who collected them. So much for spontaneity! The show didn’t go "all the way" though and so the guys were able to leave the stage with their dignity intact.

A few shows, many glasses of champagne, one trip to the unisex bathroom and hours of great music later, Iris called Game Over at 3:30am because she had a class the next day (how responsible!) and so Peggy and I tottered home in a cab talking about how we should do this EVERY week and we NEED to go shopping for clubbing clothes… let me tell you the next day, I didn’t FEEL 21. Yes, that is actually the difference between 27 and 21: it’s not the ability to have fun, but the ability to recover from a hangover!

La nouveau est arrive

On Thursday a handful of us went out to dinner along the Seine and when we got there Myra informed us that today was the release of the new Beaujolais wine. Apparently the French all go out to celebrate and ~~get drunk off~~ enjoy the new vintage. The meal was enjoyable (including the new Beaujolais) and rather uneventful (especially since we opened the joint) until Nat got her meal and decided that it didn't really resemble the veal she thought she ordered. I had a quick sample and, after almost tossing my cookies, put my money on brains. We debated further; finished our meals; had unimpressive desserts; waited almost 30 minutes to get the bill; fumed; then headed home and went straight online to Wikipedia. It turns out she had ordered sweetbreads which are thalamus and thyroid glands, and possibly pancreas (but that debate rages on). I had a good laugh and after her initial freak-out Nat still said it was a tasty meal.

But Myra brought up a good point during dinner: what makes offal more disgusting than the flesh that we "normally" eat; why is it "weird?" I didn't have a good answer except to say that the idea of eating tongue, for example, just freaks me out and I could only picture the sandwiches that Bart and Lisa were forced to eat on the Simpsons during their stay at their aunts' house. Nat was more pragmatic suggesting that liver and kidneys are cleansing organs, so by eating those you're basically eating all the crappiest stuff in the animal. Maybe it's really just that offal is generally referred to by its true name (and how can brains sound delicious?) whereas something called a tenderloin just makes my mouth water.

There were no photos from dinner so here's a shot of the Xmas tree in Galleries Lafayette.

So it's all about lunch

On Saturday afternoon we met a very hung-over Iris and Laura for lunch at Le Pre Verre; a restaurant which Iris (and us) tried to go for dinner on her first night in town and a place which we have tried and failed twice more to get reservations for dinner. However Iris managed to snag a lunch spot for the 4 of us so again if it weren't for her, I'm sure we'd have forgotten entirely about this conquest.

Not only does the Pre Verre serve fantastic food - a different menu each day - but the lunch special is an unbelievable value: entrée, plate, glass of wine, and coffee all for 13.50E. People you can't beat this! It took 3 months but we finally learned how to go out for lunch at nice restaurants and enjoy them on a more affordable level. I was tasked with drinking most of the wine since the young ladies were out of commission and the lovely squash soup with cumin sent Laura rushing the men's washroom. I'm really painting a bad picture of Laura's bodily functions in this post but if it weren't for her and Iris, we probably wouldn't have had as much fun this week.

Hooray for lunch.

It probably didn't look this good on the way up.

Touring Amelie

Sunday I dragged Nat out into the cold rain to tour the sites from Amelie, another adventure that has been in the works for, oh, 3 months I suppose. We saw a handful of places and then ended the tour in the Cafe Des 2 Moulins, the coffee shop where Amelie worked. The restaurant looks almost the same as it does in the movie except the tabac counter is missing, the phone booth closet is now a broom closet, and some booths seems to have shifted around, but the vibe is still there. It was crammed with tourists taking photos I enjoyed my crème brulee in homage to Amelie who originally introduced me the dessert.

Our pre-tour brunch.

The Metro station where Amelie drops off the blind man after taking him for a walk.

The opening shot of the movie is on this alley.

The grocery now sporting a "Maison Collignon" sign obviously capitalizing on movie fame.

The sex shop where Nino works.

Deux Moulins Cafe.

All the other ponies were taking photos too.

Fame = overpriced food.

Hot sex scene in there.

The tabac would be there next to the bar.

Also I found many new Space Invaders this week so be sure to check out the gallery. I'm well on my way to the goal of 100.

Week 13 photos on Flickr

Notre 12e Semaine: Schnitzel and Ponies

2008-11-21T07:20:00.001-08:00

We spent this past long weekend in the grand city of Vienna, Austria. The trip was inspired by Nat's lifelong dream to see the "dancing horses" at the Spanish Riding school there. Even though she had already been to Vienna twice, she'd missed the horses both times.

Go to Week 12 photos on Flickr

Flight

Our trip started out with a civilized departure time: 2pm in the afternoon. Compared to some of the early morning flights that saw us getting up at 5:30am, this was a refreshing change. We had time to wake up, eat a normal breakfast and even get some work done before leaving the house. We flew out of Orly airport, which is Paris's secondary airport in the south. I actually prefer it to Charles De Gaulle because it's easy to navigate and it's full of windows, so it kind of feels like you're in a greenhouse. We flew with SkyEurope and again, had a great trip with them (apart from some very loud-talking Germans behind us).

Nat is excited by a Perrier vending machine at the airport. They also had PS3 stations.

This airport tow-truck looks like an F1 racer.

An Impression of Vienna

When we got to Vienna, we were in for another surprise. Instead of the usual confusion and calamity that greets us at international airports, we were pleased to find a sea of organized calm. As we were getting off the plane, we passed a stand giving out city maps and then easily found ourselves at a tourist information booth where a helpful lady set us up with even more information and two bus tickets into the city.

It seems that Vienna is perhaps one of the greatest cities in Europe. It has the efficiency of the Germans, with the beauty and love of art of the French. The result is a tourist paradise. The transit system was clean and easy to navigate, and we even got a deal on transport with a 13 Euro 3-day ticket. The transit system consists of 5 subway lines and many, many streetcar lines that have a mix of old-school streetcars along with space-age new ones. Toronto should perhaps try to learn from this lesson: it's OKAY to have non-matching streetcars (they still work!).

Michaelplatz, one entrance to the riding school.

Hofburg Palace, seat of the empire.

Honour-system newspapers dispensers.

Old meets new.

Seriously, WHAT is this ad for? Hehe.

An Amazing Hostel

Our hostel was another great part of the trip. It was clean, modern, had a great staff and had all the amenities a backpacker could need. There was a kitchen with fridges and appliances so you could prepare your own food; a pleasant eating area surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows looking onto the courtyard gardens; a laundry room; internet area and free wireless; lockers for storage; and a bar and lounge area compete with musical instruments and happy hour. Our room was a bit small but the bathroom was brand-new, sparkling clean and had great water pressure. The only problem was the motion-detector light in the bathroom, which we threw a pair of Corey's boxers over at night to stop it from blinding us. According to Nat, it was one of the best hostels she'd ever stayed in and she was quite in love with it by the end of the trip.

Our tiny room.

Washing our breakfast dishes.

Dining area had some nice art but who the hell is going to pay 2000E for a painting at a youth hostel?

The garden area.

"Will you stop taking photos of the hostel already?"

Out and About in Vienna

Although we were only there for 3 full days, we somehow managed to pack in the sights. Thursday night when we got in, we went for a walk downtown and then tried to find one of the restaurants Corey had found during his pre-trip research. We kept walking around in circles with Corey insisting that the restaurant was just a bit further, until I finally asked him to double-check his notes. Turns out we were in the completely wrong area but we ended up getting a great tour of Vienna at night. The city is bustling, lit-up and feels very safe.

The next day, after a great breakfast at the hostel, we set out for Schonbrun palace, which was the former summer home of Viennese royalty. From the outside it kind of looks like a less-ornate version of Versailles, but on the inside, it's beautiful. Our admission included an audioguide, which Corey was thrilled about (yay value for money!). With the guides in hand, we proceeded through the various rooms of the palace which had original furniture and were set up to look like they did back when they were actually in use. We learned quite a bit too. Turns out that the famous Marie Antoinette of the guillotine in the Place de la Concorde and "Let them eat cake" fame is actually Viennese. She was one of 11 daughters and got married off to a French guy, thus relocating her to Paris.

After walking through the many gilded rooms of the palace, we strolled around in the gardens outside. Corey was really excited to check out the Labyrinth, but it was unfortunately closed for the winter.

Just another palace.

Q: What do mer-people ride? A: Sea-horses (or sea-ponies perhaps).

We then headed over to the Hunderwasser Museum. Hunderwasser was a Viennese artist who worked in many mediums: paint, print, weaves and even architecture. He was a big fan of nature (and from some of his quotes, probably participated in a bit of "natural" pharmaceutical recreation) and so all of his buildings are constructed with trees growing out of the sides and tops, and uneven floors so as to re-connect the inhabitants with the sensation of the ground. The outside of the buildings were very reminiscent of Gaudi... as in very gaudy. The artwork though was incredible and for once Nat didn't start complaining of boredom 10 minutes into the museum, and Corey found a new source of artistic inspiration.

Apartment in Hundertwasser Village.

The ground isn't level so we can reconnect with the earth.

The Toilet of Modern Art, nothing is sacred.

Hundertwasser Musuem. No photos allowed inside.

Here's an example.

We also experienced the Haus der Musik (guess what that means!), and learned that Vienna was actually the birthplace of classical music for the people as we know it. Turns out that Mozart, Beethoven, Strauss and Shubert are all from Vienna and before they came around, music was only composed for royalty who then got to mix up the movements and orchestration any which way they pleased. The greats like Mozart changed this: they started composing music for the public and so the music that they wrote was very popular and "user-friendly". Of course Vienna is very proud of its stature as the capital of classical music and does a lot to promote it, including selling its famous "Mozart Balls" on every streetcorner.

Learning about sound.

The orchestra complains and refuses to play because I'm waving my wand too fast.

But they play beautifully for Nat.

Other sights we saw included the Stephansdom church, which has a unique roof. Apparently the design is original but the actual roof itself is not as it burned down in a fire in the 1950s. To rebuild the roof, the church took donations and in exchange put the names of the donors on the tiles we see up there today.

Not just another church after all.

The Land of Christmas

Last but not least, we saw the famous Christkindl Market. This is a market set up in front of city hall and it consists of many different wooden shacks, lit up with Christmas lights and each selling a different type of product/Christmas present. The market was set up in a park whose trees were lit up with the symbols of Chrismas: candy canes, hearts, santa heads. And all of this was overlooked by the imposing and beautiful city hall, the windows of which were set up as an advent calendar.

Ponies in trees. What will the think of next.

These photos don't exactly capture the atmosphere of it all.

City hall cum advent calendar. It still looks like a church to me.

Nat was so excited.

In fact, all of Vienna seemed to be gearing up for Christmas while we were there. In the main shopping streets, the city was setting up the Christmas lights, which consisted of gigantic chandeliers hanging among "ribbons" of Christmas lights. Large pine trees were set up at every major site, waiting to be decorated. It was a real treat to be around that because I kind of thought Europe wouldn't really do the Christmas thing, since it's a bit of a North American thing, but I was really glad that even here I could feel some of the Christmas magic I was missing at home.

Feeding Time

Another great part about Vienna was the food: cheap, good and LOTS of it. We ate like kings for the three days we were there. This included schnitzel, beer and more schnitzel. We ate at a place called Figmuellers, which had Schnitzel bigger than the plates and a "large" salad was really a gigantic endless mountain of food. Corey was in heaven with the value proposition of the city, and was even happier when at Figmuellers, we got seated with another party of people our age from Italy and Slovakia.

That's some big schnitzel! (That's what she said)

Our table-strangers.

Keys to the washrooms which were "outside and to the left."

This restaurant served schnitzel with cornflake coating.

Here you order sandwiches by the centimetre, only 0.15E!

"Bart, bacon that sausage!"

Nat was in heaven too, not because of the bargain-basement prices but because of the cakes! While Paris is the capital of pastries, Vienna seems to be the capital of cakes so we spent a bit of time in cafes and on park benches sampling just a few of them. These included the famous Sacher Torte (at the Sacher Hotel café of course), apple strudel and others. The rights to the invention of Sacher Torte were actually fought over by two guys: Sacher and Demel. Sacher ended up winning, so he got to name the cake after himself. Demel's café still serves Sacher Torte of course, amongst many many other kinds of cakes in a very fancy café setting.

Nat digs into her Sacher Torte.

Cake display at Demel's.

Local bakery.

One day we hit up Naschmarkt for lunch, which consisted of a Schnitzel sandwich and some very overpriced antipasto, which we ate on the edge of the street. Right next to Naschmarkt are some great examples of Art Nouveau architecture by Otto Wagner.

The other great thing we saw was something I'll call the "Punsch phenomenon". Seems that around Christmas time, the Viennese love to drink hot alcoholic punch from stalls on the street. And most of the time, this punch is served in real ceramic mugs, which the stands give out with a deposit of 2.50E. The punch itself is called Punsch and is a hot mix of juice and red wine - not particularly good, but when it's freezing outside, it's great to have a steaming hot drink in hand. We saw many different stands serving this punsch, including many at the Christkindl Market, one at a temporary outdoor bar set up at the Museum Quartier and random ones scattered on the streets.

Punsch.

The Dancing Horses!

Last but most definitely not least, Nat's beloved dancing horses. She first learned about these horses through a picture book at the public library when she was 6 years old. Her love for horses continued and she always held a special place in her heart for these horses specifically.

They are a breed of horses called Lipizzaners, which are bred specifically to "dance" at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna. The Spanish Riding School is home to the oldest riding hall in the world, and with three crystal chandeliers, also one of the most beautiful. It's called the Spanish school because the emperor at the time was seconded from Spain, and he couldn't bear to leave his horses, so he brought them with, along with grooms, riders and staff, and ordered them to build the grand riding hall in the Spanish style.

The horses perform a type of Dressage called the High School of Riding, which includes traditional dressage elements like flying lead changes and also some elements specific to the riding school such as trotting/prancing in place, rearing up with a rider and jumping forwards on their hind legs, jumping into the air and then kicking their back legs out. It's hard to describe the moves in words and even harder to show in pictures since photography wasn't allowed at the School and the website is completely copyrighted. Check out the horses for yourself here: http://www.srs.at/index.php?id=265 All the moves are based on movements the horses would naturally do themselves, and the seamless control the riders have over their steeds is amazing.

The horses that perform at the school are strictly stallions. While mares are capable of doing the same moves, they don't do them naturally and lack the musculature to carry a rider while doing them (not to mention the fact that adding a few mares to an arena full of stallions would completely distract them!).

The Lipizzaners are born black and turn white over time but not because of old age. About 20% of the horses don't turn white, and 19/20 of these stay grey and the other one is actually brown. After years of living free as part of a herd and running around in pastures building their muscles, selected stallions arrive at the school from the stud farm at the age of 4. They are then trained for 6 years before they are allowed to enter the ring. The horses are trained and ridden by a single rider for their entire careers and they live to about 30-35; they continue to perform as long as their hearts are in it. When the riders sense the horses aren't having fun anymore, they are retired to the farm in the country to breed and run free for the rest of their natural lives.

I was lucky to be able to spend a ton of time watching the horses on our trip. I attended a 2-hour exercise session where I watched 4 groups of horses go through their steps. Interestingly, the riding school uses mostly positive reinforcement- in the form of sugar cubes, kept in the coat tails of the riders jackets. The horses love to perform and seemed to enjoy being able to please their riders. I took a tour of the stables, which was interesting because the horses themselves are actually quite small at about 15-16 hands (and the divider between horse and pony is 14 hands). Despite the fact that there are about 70 stallions housed together, which normally would bring about fighting, these horses were amazingly calm and friendly towards each other. I wasn't able to take any pictures unfortunately since they ban that on the tour and during the exercises.

Ponies!

On Sunday morning, Corey and I went to see an official performance. I was so excited!!! The first part of the show featured some of the younger horses in training with the riders putting them through their paces in regular trot, prance and canter. Then the show progressed to show the fully trained stallions showcasing their skills in the Pas de Deux, the School Above Ground (jumps) and the Quadrille (a kind of ballet with 8 horses performing choreographed moves together). And all of this was in the beautiful riding area with classical music playing in the background. It was great - I was so happy to finally see them in action. Quite possibly the perfect ending to a perfect trip. :D

Nat is so excited for the big day.

Sure the Hofburg riding arena, ~300 years old, is lovely...

...but we had to lean over the railing just to see anything.

Week 12 photos on Flickr

Notre 11e Semaine: When in Rome

2008-11-21T02:51:00.000-08:00

When in Rome… you may very well wish you were back in Paris.

Go to Week 11 photos on Flickr

Cheese for everyone!

Before we all left for our respective long-weekend journeys, the gang got together at our place for our first in-home/election-night fondue party. With a little inspiration from the menu at Fondue des Refuges and some creative license with cheese recipes culled from the web, we were able to put together a lip-smacking good time.

Cheese fondue made with apple cider.

Maggie discovers peanut butter.

And now to the rant...

Yes, my first trip to Italy was completely underwhelming and I left the city with a terrifically bad taste in mouth (or in Nat's case: canned mushrooms on a microwaved pita). I'm not sure where my fantasies of this land came from, perhaps the book Eat, Pray, Love, but I imagined that we would stroll around a beautifully coloured city, hopping between Mom & Pop restaurants serving only the finest home-cooked meals and pitchers of house wine brought to my table without even viewing a menu.

In reality, Rome is a dirty dingy city with awful graffiti lining every surface. Chaotic narrow thoroughfares fill the city, crammed with the incessant sound of car horns, heckling drivers, the rumble of construction, and the piles of scaffolding obstructing most views. And if you did stumble upon Mom and Pop, well most likely Pop would be sitting in the middle of his restaurant picking his nose, in defiance of what you might have believed was true Italian cuisine. The place simply felt as if everyone had conspired on a grand plan to bend you over and take advantage of you.

Trust me, I could rant about Rome until we have a new Pope, but I would rather not, and despite Rome not being at all what I had expected, we did have some wonderful experiences there and the remainder of this post (I think) will focus on those instead.

Out and About in Rome

The one Mom & Pop pizzeria we did manage to find.

First view of the Colosseum.

Roof of the Pantheon.

Nat ponders the Pantheon.

Ubiquitous construction site: man on tiny dumptruck.

A pretty building.

The Trevi Fountain.

Make a wish!

This woman was wishing for a better hairdo.

The gelato in Rome was superb (and also cheap). We made sure to eat some every day.

Designed by an Italian, paid for by the French, and named for the Spanish.

View from the top.

Nat is amused by tiny trucks.

The foliage in Rome was truly impressive.

A park/track in the Borghese gardens. In Paris, there would be chairs for people to relax here.

Look at me, I'm a pony.

Well, we didn't go there.

Look, it's a column wearing lingerie.

This speaks for itself.

Vatican and St. Peter's

When you walk from the subway towards the Vatican you will be approached no less than 20 times by individuals wanting to offer you expensive guided tours with the added bonus of budding ahead of the gigantic one-hour line-up. However the Vatican operation is smooth and the long line-up last no more than 15 minutes, so fear not. We were also given the student discount by an employee who I believe was skimming a bit off the top - this is based on the incorrect change I received, yet how could I complain when I already saved money?

The palace itself is ridiculously large, as all palaces in Europe tend to be, and every surface is filled with a sculpture, fresco, canvas, or some sort of ornate scroll work. It's becomes difficult to appreciate the impressiveness of this and it instead develops into an insane monotony. By the time we reached the Sistine Chapel, I had seen so many remarkable works that I wasn't sure I could fully comprehend it. Though to their credit, the Italians take this room very seriously and keep the lights dim, the crowd noise low, and every 20 seconds shout at out everyone to stop taking pictures. If this were France, Michelangelo's masterpiece would've decayed from camera flash decades ago. Even though it would have been a cinch, I was polite and chose to obey the no-photography rule.

Well this almost worked out.

Interior gardens.

Could this hallway/room be more ornate?

They actually lead us through backwards.

The Papal branding is pretty awesome.

Just another fresco.

The Vatican dictionary is missing the word 'subtle.'

A dizzying trip out of there.

Nat recalls Hannah's tumble on these steps.

After leaving the Vatican museum we headed over to the main attraction, St. Peter's square. Unfortunately the centre obelisk and its immediate vicinity were surrounded by fences so we couldn't see any of the secret clues from Dan Brown's Angels & Demons. However, the mathematical effect of standing on one of the plaza focal points is still impressive, even in the rain. But as we waited in line to enter the basilica, I asked the heavens (it seemed appropriate given the setting) to bless us with some sunny weather.

Despite having been inside several cathedrals in Paris such as Notre Dame and St. Sulpice, I was not prepared for St. Peter's. It truly is in a league of its own. Instead of ancient stone, the space is made from gleaming marble of several colours. What is most shocking is the scale. It's not just large, it's HUGE, and all the sculptures and paintings are created to this same terrifying scale. Nat said that this was a place where she could actually feel the presence of 'something' and I understood why.

St. Peter's square.

The Basilica.

Now you see 4 rows of columns...

...now you don't.

Gentlemen, please wear only magenta bodysuits.

The only time we saw Swiss Guard in uniforms. (That other man thinks he can just stroll on in.)

PapalVision™

Breathtaking.

Everything is huge.

More branding.

Our prayers for sunshine are answered.

We also decided to ascend the cupola and forfeited the elevator (that's a 1E savings people!) and headed for the stairs. After several water breaks, Nat counted a total of 529 steps to the very top. But the view of Rome from here was spectacular. From this angle it was beautiful colorful city and I could briefly ignore the negative feelings I was harboring towards it.

I was terrified up there.

From below, we thought these mosaics were paintings. No space invaders up here.

This set of steps is tilting.

The view was worth the hike.

We assumed this is where the Pope lives, but we never actually asked anyone.

Modern stained-glass?

Sending postcards from the top of the church. These will be postmarked by the Vatican's own postal service.

Colosseum and Forum

Again at the Colosseum's entrance we were met with a tangle of English-speaking tour guides offering a chance to skip the line for merely tripling the ticket price. After declining and ogling at the strange man in line wearing a shiny black velvet suit, we entered through security and promptly budded the entire line anyway by upgrading to an official guided tour for only 4E more.

Our tour guide explained all about the history of the Colosseum, its glory days and then subsequent decline and pillaging, while I had fantasized about the movie Gladiator the whole time, a movie which I downloaded the night I got back from Rome.

(T)our guide.

They rebuilt part of the stage. At this pace we could have battles in a few more years.

Token self-portrait. Do you see a pattern?

Above the gladiator's entrance arch.

Then we headed over to the Roman Forum which is massive site of really ancient buildings including the first ever paved street in Rome with its original paving stones. However about halfway through the site we stumbled upon the 'last free English tour of the day' and followed this boisterous and terrifically knowledgeable and/or entertaining guide along as he explained the slaughter of Julius Caesar while a spontaneous formation of nine Italian fighter jets roared overhead displaying smoke trails of the Italian flag.

Inside the Forum.

The guide explains the journey of purple 'VIP' marble columns.

Caesar's cremation site, his own front yard.

Fighter jets from the army expo happening in nearby Circus Maximus.

The Ecstasy of St. Theresa

In the middle of our trip I realized that I really should have brought my copy of Angels & Demons to Paris (and to Rome) and we could have hunted down some of the famous sites in the story. But while reading a guidebook in the hotel I stumbled upon a write up of the Bernini sculpture The Ecstasy of St. Theresa which I remember from the back as a significant marker on the path of illumination. The church, I think called the Santa Maria del Vittoria, was a stone's throw from our hotel so we checked it out on our last morning. Unfortunately I forgot to take a photo of the basically non-descript exterior but the inside was a magnificent surprise, a head-to-toe feast for the eyes that made this tiny space feel ridiculously huge.

The angel's spear is (supposed to be) lit be a hidden window.

This is just nuts.

Rome you were not what I expected; we had our ups, we had our (plenty of) downs, and we shared some special moments that I will never forget; but for us, I just don't think it's in the cards and I fear that we are not destined to meet again.

Week 11 photos on Flickr

Notre 10e Semaine: Roadtrip!

2008-11-05T10:27:00.001-08:00

A detailed account of our 900km journey through Normandy.

Go to Week 10 photos on Flickr

How do we get out of Paris?

After several hours browsing the web for Parisian car rental options, we settled on Hertz who had a location just on the western boundary of the city. Nat wanted to minimize the amount of inner-city driving, since it is just plain chaotic here, and trekking out to the airport to rent a car made little sense. So we were lucky that our Porte Maillot location was open on Sundays since this city (along with every other tiny speck on the map, we would later learn) basically shuts down.

On Thursday we walked to a bookstore to find a map of France. In the basement we were quickly overwhelmed by the hundreds of options. After wandering around for ages and unfolding map after map, we were approached by an English-speaking American living in Paris who was concerned with Nat's cries of "but how do we get OUT of Paris?" - meaning she (or I) didn't understand where the main highways began. This stranger explained everything and even directed us as to which map to purchase. This man saved us countless hours of frustration, I'm sure.

So on Friday morning we headed to the edge of Paris by Metro, waited in an unusually calm French queue, and got in our 2-door Renault Twingo. The only obstacle between us and Normandy was the 100m-wide round-about: 7 "lanes" of traffic weaving in and out as they swerve around the core. Even the attendant at Hertz couldn't explain to us how it worked although she did add a hearty "Ah, now I understand why you got the complete insurance package." Yes the car was ours to destroy, deductible-free, and for only 13E a day. Anyway, Nat was a trooper and she tackled that round-about and we sailed off into the underground tunnel out of the city.

Twingo.

Villa Savoye, Revisited.

First stop on the agenda was a small town called Poissy, famous only for the fact that it is the location of the Savoye family summer home designed by Le Corbusier in the late 1920s. On my first trip to Paris in 2001, our design history professor / chaperone took us on a trip to Villa Savoye. Being his most favourite building on earth, the building was pretty hyped up for us. I remember spending hours and 3 rolls of film (yah, film!) in and around that house. We were all mystified by it back then and I went back home after that trip and painted the villa several times, every angle of the building offering a beautiful collection of lines and contrast.

Remember this one?

Villa Savoye, in the rain.

Central staircase, the masterpiece.

Main patio.

Genuine lounger, not some knockoff.

Pony in a pony chair.

Master bath.

Just about every angle is nice.

The house was no less impressive on this journey, and with my digital camera I could take as many photos as I desired. However Nat and I also spent time in the room containing all the historical documents and it was here that we learned that the house itself was actually a piece of crap. Several letters between Mrs. Savoye and Le Corbusier document an increasing battle where she details the structural problems; simply put, the house leaked just about everywhere. Le Corbusier ignored her requests to solve this problem and instead instructed her to place a guestbook in the foyer and described what type of arrangement of flowers to plant along the main driveway.

From this new perspective I viewed Villa Savoye as a bit of a failure. It was like a flashy advertisement that won all sorts of awards and industry recognition yet never delivered on the metrics set out in the client brief. Sure, it looks amazing, but it never achieved its basic goal: to be a house that people could live in. This made me feel better about my own role in life because although at times I don't feel like I'm designing any Villa Savoyes, my clients also don't call to tell me their websites are leaking.

"Villa Savoye, you're not the man I married."

The gatehouse is a mini replica.

Downtown Poissy.

"Ok so how do we get there?"

Halloween in Caen

With no real plan for the rest of the day we headed towards Caen along the main highway. We started paying increasingly higher tolls about every 15 minutes along this route. But this is the price one pays for a 130km/h speed limit. Not that our little Twingo could go any faster than that anyway. A quick stop for gas outside Rouen and a McDo espresso and we found ourselves in Caen rush hour traffic.

Toll time. Anywhere from 2–7E.

Nat gets a caffeine boost in a very nice looking McDo.

Stuck in traffic. Would you really buy it?

We had no plans for Caen but upon arrival there were 3 issues to deal with: 1. find a place to park; 2. find a place to sleep; and possible the most pressing issue 3. find a place to pee. We pulled out our trusty Let's Go Europe 2008 guidebook and managed to find the recommended hotel. It turned out to be a bit dumpy but was our self-guided tour meant it was also the ideal place to relieve one's self. I felt a bit guilty when we ditched the keys at the unmanned front desk and ran out the door to find a better hotel. But any qualms I had about the "doodie and dash" melted away when the place next door had no holes in the walls.

This was Halloween night and with the belief that the French, or at least Parisians, didn't go in much for the holiday, we were in for quite the shock. For dinner we went to a lovely Greek restaurant where we argued about from which island and which angle the beautiful frescos were painted in. But this place was also elaborately decorated for the holiday with fake web spanning the entire ceiling and the whole staff dressed as Draculas (even the baby that the manager carried around in a snugly).

Greek restaurant.

Perhaps we were caught in some (small)city-wide competition but the Irish pub down the street was even more impressive. The whole floor was covered in dried leaves; the doorways were covered in medieval archway facades; the walls were lined with creates of skulls and other nasty objects; the DJ booth was a large cemetery; and they even had steaming cauldrons of dry ice (some customers were fooling around with it and I was waiting for one of them to freeze off their fingers, but no such luck).

Irish pub. It was really dark in there.

Skulls on tap.

The next morning we got up early and visited the Chateau, a castle built by William the Conqueror in 1060.

So this is where Link brought the Triforce. Who knew?

How original.

Then we headed to Caen Memorial, a museum dedicated to both World Wars and specifically to D-Day. The first thing we did at the museum was watch a short movie with actual footage from D-Day contrasting battle preparations on both sides. We also visited the Nobel Prize gallery which was eerily empty and quiet and completely freaked out Nat. I read on the way out that it was actually a functioning bunker during World War II.

Caen Memorial.

Elevator/staircase to Nobel Prize gallery.

Pretty creepy. I couldn't even tell there was a ceiling in this room.

Giant pineapple? (And yes Iris, I saw that you made the same joke about a palm in Lisbon)

Storming the D-Day Beaches

The first stop on the coast was Juno Beach, the site where the Canadian troops landed. The brief trip ended when Nat tripped in the sand and smashed the camera, lens-first, directly into the beach. We sat in the museum foyer brushing sand out of the mechanisms and waiting for the lens to de-fog to determine how bad the damage would be. Happily the camera made it.

Canadian museum at Juno. Supposed to look like a maple leaf but it's a stretch.

"Did you drop the camera yet?"

We continued along the coast through Gold Beach and the German batteries at Longues-sur-Mer to the US cemetery in Omaha Beach.

Smurf house?

You can see pieces that remain of the temporary harbour.

German battery. This is over half a kilometre from the coast.

This one was blown up, it seems.

This bunker was on the coastal cliff.

The front.

From inside.

Monument at the US Cemetery.

D-Day map.

Just under 10,000 soldiers are buried here.

The landscaping was impressive. But of course this is France after all.

The sun finally came out, only to quickly set, as we drove 2 hours south to reach our hostel outside of Pontorson by Le Mont St. Michel.

Between Sea and Sky
or
Free Museum Day, Episode 3

After the lovely breakfast served at our hostel, we were back on the road toward our final destination, Le Mont St. Michel: a castle built upon a mountain at the end of peninsula that actually becomes an island (our used to before the modern causeway was built) if the tide is high.

Our hostel (read: the entire town).

Approaching the castle. How awesome does that look?

This castle-town was the real deal - a miniature version of Gondor straight out of Lord of the Rings. We circled round and round, higher and higher, passing over-priced restaurants, tourist shops, and museums boasting tours of hidden prisons. Eventually we made it to the castle entrance and I was delighted to discover that Free Musuem Day spanned all the way across Normandy (although technically we may have been within Bretagne borders here).

Round and round past all the junk.

Celebrate good times! Don't worry, we got there early enough to avoid the free-museum-day jerks.

A pulley system. This was too high up for me.

When we were at the top of the castle, it became clear why 10th century monks would want to build a church in the middle of nowhere: because at 350 feet with nothing but sea in (almost) all directions, it genuinely felt a bit heavenly up there.

The drive back to Paris was a mild adventure in that we decide to avoid the main highway and take some of the smaller national routes in what appeared to be a more direct path. We stopped in a small town called Villers Bocage, only because we found the name funny, to discover that all the blinds were drawn and nothing was open for business, it being a Sunday of course. Hoping that the more "major" (read: not a spec on the map) city of Lisieux would have some options we trekked on, only to be laughed at in a brasserie as the bartender found it funny we were looking for food at 2:30. And despite the numerous signs along the highway, the pizza & pasta place supposed to be open 7 days a week was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, we stormed out of another one-pony town and eventually came across the Buffalo Grill, a burger-serving haven in the middle of nowhere and the perfect place to eat when French food just wasn't going to cut it that day.

You suck Villers Bocage! Why did we even let you in the blog?

Yikes!

Eventually after sitting in gridlocked traffic, and watching motorcycles zoom by between the cars - with their 4-ways flashing, mind you - we made it back into Paris. And once again, Nat conquered the massive round-about, this time even more confusing and chaotic in the dark. So with 900km and around 100 round-abouts - the French equivalent of a 4-way stop - under her belt, Nat is now a bona fide French chauffeur.

Hooray, an open restaurant!

This is what a "well done" hamburger looks like. But it was delicious anyway.

Week 10 photos on Flickr

Notre 9e Semaine: Just Another Week

2008-10-30T05:29:00.000-07:00

31 photos that pretty much sum of the title of this one.

Go to Week 9 photos on Flickr

In retrospect this week was very unmemorable. I had to review these photos to discover how we spent our time. In brief: we spent some more time with Nat's family and her Aunt Dany from Switzerland; visited the Cite des sciences and de l'industrie; and took a stroll through Andre Citroen park.

The end.

Magical.

So without further ado...

Week 9 in 31 photos

Corey visits Trocadero.

Redefining "scafolding."

Pretty.

Palais de Tokyo modern art museum. Countdown to the end of the Sun above the door.

Hotel Everland 1-room hotel perched on top of Palais de Tokyo til the end of the year. Only 444E per night.

A building that reminded me of Gaudi.

I get to meet Nat's aunt Dany.

The ladies with kir and champagne.

Kir for the boys. We got the price/value option.

In the Metro on the way to dinner with Bernard's friends from kindergarten.

Ducks in Bercy park.

Bercy park, quaint.

A quick stroll through Bercy Village. Feels similar to Toronto's distillery district.

The Science Centre. Nat smiles because this experience hasn't underwhelmed her yet.

Part of the Citroen 2CV exhibit. Some guy ~~harassed~~ interviewed us for Swiss radio.

Entrance to the Epidemik game. This experience (below) was probably worth the student reduced-priced admission.

The interactive game is projected from above. Players travel around the arena trying to stay healthy.

Nat's flies solo at the command centre (after I ditch her) and saves Manhattan with her decision-making skills.

The interface that follows you around. Notice that I didn't lose any lives.

Optical illusion!

Although far more convincing to the naked eye vs. this camera.

Nat gets excited over the map of the human genome.

One of our neighbours dumps his dustpan into the common courtyard. Repeatedly. This is very French (not the littering, but us spying on him).

Welcome to Andre Citroen park. We were greeted by teenage boys shrieking as a rat ran by.

The sun dial is broken, please insert a new sun.

Nat chewing new Bubbalicious flavour: hot air balloon.

These fountains are probably lovely in the summer.

The guidebook mentioned sculptures but we never found any.

Waterfall A.

Across from Waterfall B.

Meticulous landscaping.

Week 9 photos on Flickr

Notre 8e Semaine: Hotel Jussieu

2008-10-23T04:57:00.000-07:00

It seems as if everyone we know is visiting us this week. Nat's best friend Hannah stayed with us, and so did her friends Mary and Greg. Nat's parents are also in town for a week, and Hannah's parents were around for about 4 days too. Both sets of parents had their own places though - otherwise our little shoebox might have exploded.

Go to Week 8 photos on Flickr

Hannah visiting

This week we had Nat's best friend Hannah staying with us. Her little sister is also on exchange in Paris and so she and her parents were visiting (Just in case you haven't been paying attention every time we mention Iris). Hannah was originally supposed to come to Paris with Mark, as they had been here together just last year and he loved it. Even though tragedy had struck just a few weeks ago, Hannah bravely made the trip over the pond to see us. The trip was a bit different than originally planned of course, but it was really nice to have her in Paris with us and Iris. We spent most of our time with her at the house, but towards the end of the week she gathered a bit of energy and we went out for a few dinners together and with her parents.

Iris excited for Thanksgiving dinner (read: turkey schnitzel).

School time

So this week, Nat actually had to start school for real, including the dreaded… group work! Not to fear though - group work in France is much more fun than it is at home. For one class, she met her team at a café by the Pompidou and over the course of 3 hours and several coffees, she and the team hammered out and almost completed a team paper. Another meeting for a different class was held at someone's apartment, again over coffee and cookies (how civilized!). She's now actually thinking that she wants to become the quintessential French student living in the Latin Quarter doing all her work lounging on a café patio with an espresso!

Hanging with Parents

Nat's parents were also in town this week, but thankfully staying at their own little apartment not far from ours. While Nat's dad had been to Paris as a young twenty-something, her mom had never been to Paris but had learned all about in school in Czechoslovakia as a child and was really looking forward to it. I'm pretty sure that the limitless supply of pastries and beautiful views didn't disappoint her.

While they were in town, we spent a bit of time touristing around with them. Our first stop was the Institut du Monde Arabe, a tribute to her dad's heritage. This was actually the first time ever that the series of guide books called "Let's Go" let us down. This museum was listed as a "thumbs up", but really it was kind of boring - just a bunch of cups and random Persian carpets. The upside was that the architecture of the building was awesome, and the rooftop café was phenomenal, if a little bit cold and pricey!

Nat in front of the IMA.

Mechanical windows.

Behind the scenes (the windows don't work anymore).

Nat's parents on the rooftop patio.

Brrr.

I never tire of this building.

After a sandwich break, a walk down Saint Germain and another break while checking out the parental apartment, we headed up to the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysées. It was a gorgeous day and we strolled down amid all the tourists. We also checked out Avenue de Montagne, which is where all the high end stores like Dior and Prada are.

Everyone wants to be a model?

You can see La Defense.

Concept car(?) in the Peugot store.

Excited for the massive Sephora store.

Hotel Athenee: Carrie stays here in the Sex and the City finale.

Site of Princess Diana's car crash.

French Fast Food?

After a quick break at the homestead, we rounded up the troops which included Iris, Hannah and the Serbanescus and headed out for a joint family dinner. To minimize arguments and the chance of people not liking what they ordered, we decided to go to a branch of a chain of restaurants called Relais de l'Entrecote. Essentially (and according to our trusty guidebook), this place is the French version of fast food. Basically they serve one thing: salad with walnuts, followed by steak and fries. When you sit down, all they ask is "how do you like your meat?" and "what kind of wine would you like?"

Ok, how do we get there?

Do we look related?

Everybody smile and say "steak."

And so the festivities began. I swear that in less than 3 minutes after we sat down, we had drinks and salads in front of us. After only a minor bit of squabbling over how we wanted our meat done, we were ready for the main course (FYI: the French like their meat VERY underdone. "Bien cuit" translates to medium here, when the literal translation is well-cooked). The waitress brings a giant platter of meat and fries to a little station next to your table and then dishes out individual plates, complete with the secret cause. Corey loved this place because they actually come around and serve you twice - talk about value! Even though the turnover was about 1h15 from start to finish and I kind of felt sick from eating so quickly, it really was an experience.

Corey getting picked up on the RER

Later that night we all took Hannah down to Iris's res so she could see the shoebox that Iris lives in at the Canada House. We took the RER (equivalent to the GO train) down and when we got off, we stopped off at a vending machine on the platform so that Iris could get some mix for a pre-drink session. We were all huddled around the vending machine trying to grab the right beverages when this totally random guy reaches his hand into our girly-plus-Corey huddle, hands Corey a note, says "this is for you" and then jumps on the RER as it's pulling away. We unfolded the note and it said something to the effect of "I would like to practice English with you. Please call me at this number and we can meet"... a.k.a. "I think you are really cute. Call me and we can hook up". :P I suppose it's a sign of flattery really - Corey's style appeals to everyone!

"I like pina coladas, getting caught in the rain, and learning to speak English."

Un Vrai Dinner Party Francais!

While Nat's parents were in town, we had the pleasure of attending a real French dinner party at Nat's dad's cousin's house. We sat and talked with Tina and her husband Roger and their daughter Neda, along with their cat Socrates (a philosopher cat - how French!). Later on, Neda's boyfriend Olivier came over and we were finally blessed with meeting a true Frenchman: French for many, many generations. Not only is he in law school like Neda, but he's also an accomplished concert organist. I'm pretty sure with talents like that, the French must not watch any TV.

Our hostess, Nat's cousin Tina (with Socrates).

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Neda and Olivier.

Dinner started with drinks and some assorted nuts, and then followed with a delicious spread of salad, eggplant-tomato-fresh mozzarella, boeuf bourguignon and a chicken noodle casserole. After dinner, we were surprised with the illustrious French cheese course, not to be confused with dessert, which followed afterwards. And the finale was the French requisite: espresso! Thankfully at 11pm, it was available in decaf, also known as "déca".

Before.

After.

And then there were 5

On Saturday, Nat's friends Mary and Greg arrived and so the house was packed with 5 of us staying in all 460 square feet on the Saturday night. It was cozy but it worked. The arrangement only lasted for a day as Hannah left for Calgary the next morning.

After a slow start, including a giant brunch complete with fresh baguette, coffee, fruits and veggies, we were ready to tackle a day of touristing with Mary and Greg. We walked for about 5 hours and saw the Pantheon, Luxembourg Gardens, Notre Dame, the Pompidou Centre, Les Halles and the Louvre (don't worry, we didn't actually go IN any of these places except Notre Dame - it was sunny and gorgeous, so we just walked around outside). Of course this wasn't all in one go. With Mary and Greg arriving fresh from Italy, we were all well-versed in the art of enjoyment and thus we stopped for a few breaks including a café stop.

Been there, done that.

Luxembourg Gardens.

Consulting guidebooks and verb charts.

Café break.

Always discovering new views. Les Halles.

We have the same camera but Mary's is blue.

Only moments after I complained that people were abusing the artwork.

Protest!

Although we have read a lot about how much the French like protesting about everything and anything, in our two months in Paris, we had yet to actually see a protest in action. Until today that is. Yessiree, we saw a real, live protest complete with banners, megaphones and shut-down streets (in this case, St-Germain-des-Pres - one of the biggest streets on the Left Bank). This one seemed to be against the privatization of the school system (see pictures).

I guess Sundays in France really aren't the day of rest - they are a convenient day of protest. No one has to work and all the stores are closed anyways, so really, it's either go hang out at a park or join a protest somewhere.

Also, from what we read and observed, the protests seem like the people are rallying against the government and fighting "the man", but really, the protests are quite well-organized and supported by governments. Generally, the protest groups notify the police of the protest in advance, so the appropriate streets can be closed down and traffic can be monitored by the police. And that's exactly what we saw today. Fighting the man, yet 'the man' helps organize the protest: only in France.

Fondue pour bebes

And the final pieces of news for the week is really one of the best. We found the absolute best restaurant ever up near Montmartre. It's a tiny hole-in-the-wall fondue place that fits about 30 people crammed in so tight that you are sitting right next to your neighbours and the only way to get to the benches along the wall is to go OVER the table (with the helping hand of the restaurant owner).

Crammed in shoulder-to-shoulder with our neighbours (including people from Italy and Dufferin/Eglinton!), we had Sangria, little appetizers and then a giant pot each of meat and cheese fondue. Everything was delicious, and the best part was that all the drinks were served in baby bottles. It was wine, sangria, appies and fondue for 18E/pp. Something for everyone: Nat's favourite combo of cheese and bread, Corey's favourite score of a "value" meal, and Mary and Greg's favourite of cheap, cheap vino. It was so much fun and we got totally hammered. It was such an experience.

You really thought there wouldn't be any space invaders in this post?

You really can't spill the wine this way.

Mental note: it gets messy, wear dark clothing next time.

Getting in and out of the seats.

Some ponies from Toronto.

This toilet warranted a photo.

And quite drunk on the way home.

Week 8 photos on Flickr

Notre 7e Semaine: Full House

2008-10-15T04:06:00.001-07:00

Week 7 continues with a 2-week-long stream of house guests and visitors from abroad. Writing the blog has become a bit of a chore so, again, I will be filling in for this episode; expect something short and sweet.

Go to Week 7 photos on Flickr

Wanderlust

(Yes Chen, I borrowed this word from your Facebook status but it so aptly describes my week)

Caroline and Graham ventured out each day to soak up as many museums as possible, and since my pea-sized attention-span isn't suited to these types of journeys, I ended up spending the beginning of the week alone. I took advantage of the nice weather and wandered around Paris's arrondisements that I hadn't been to yet. I walked around for 3 to 4 hours each day, with the only real motivation to return home being a full bladder. Note that although there are free public toilets around town, they really only exists in the areas concentrated with tourists, so when I stumbled upon one (in working order) I was very excited.

Found this deserted secret garden called the Swiss Valley thanks to an article my cousin Serena sent me.

Secret entrance: out of order.

Outside the Swiss Valley. There was a plague here that had something to do with the mayor of Montreal.

Secretly though, exploring the city was mostly motivated by discovering more Space Invaders. Nat says I look like a chicken when I walk around now because I am always craning my neck around every corner, on top of every awning, I must not miss a thing. I think I just look like a really lost tourist most of the time, perhaps trying to the find the sometimes poorly-placed street signs. Regardless my mosaic radar has improved and I was able to find I think about 20 new pieces of graffiti this week.

In the 5th not far from our apartment. So happy.

One day Nat and I were walking home, quite exhausted, but I made her stop and indicated that I could sense the presence of a mosaic. I turned around, and sure enough, high up on a wall was a little guy smiling at me. She was amused but also impressed.

The force is strong with this one.

I spotted this ruin of a mosaic from 50 yards and changed our path to confirm. That's the Pantheon in the back.

Though I think the Space Invaders search has become entirely obsessive. Previously I likened it to a video game but now it feels more like a drug addiction, or what I imagine that would feel like. I might be wandering around and see a mosaic, and get a quick thrill (although it's a much greater feeling of satisfaction if I feel compelled to follow a certain path and emerge victorious). But then if that isn't followed up by another discovery, say in the next 15 minutes, I get upset and things start to drag. I get genuinely disappointed and when I finally do find another one, the high isn't as great. They don't excite me in the same way as they first did.

I'm exaggerating, but not by much.

I just knew I would find something on this street.

Then I turned around and spotted this beast hiding in a gated courtyard.

I spent 4 hours wandering around the 8th and even into the 17th. And my initial purpose was to find a secret garden, which I did, and I even discovered another lovely park and several very interesting buildings but not a single Invader. The day genuinely felt incomplete.

See all the Space Invaders here.

RTL TV station.

Antique shop. The detail on the awning was great.

Roman ruins in Monceau Park.

Banque de France building with the most interesting little gargoyles.

Snazzy.

Hotel where I stayed when I was in Paris in 2001.

Cool sculpture on the wall of the passageway into the courtyard by the giant Doom mosaic.

A day with Care and Graham

On the one day we were all available we decide to check out the Les Invalides. Originally a home built for aging war veterans it is now mostly used as a war museum although the church still boasts the most magnificent golden dome in Paris.

Just your average church door.

This is where King Louis-Philippe prayed.

Nat getting an audio-guided tour by Napoleon's tomb.

He's actually inside 5 layers of coffins.

12 such reliefs surround the tomb and detail Napoleon's achievements.

This photo looks very holy.

Graham was quite amused by my whole Invaders obsession. He also enjoyed that I spoke about them as if they were really aliens from another planet. For example I might say, "No I don't think they would land in this area at all." He would laugh. But he caught the bug in a big way too and was genuinely upset that he couldn't find any. On his last night in Paris, we went to the grocery store and grabbed some warm beers and drank them on the street ("déclassé" according to Nat, but the group of police we walked by didn't seem to mind). We headed through the Ile St. Louis and then to the Bastille to skirt along the eastern border of the 4th in hopes of glimpsing some new Invaders. Sure enough the mission was a success.

Graham's first unassisted find.

And what is a trip to Paris without a stop at the Eiffel Tower? If you're keeping track, this is visit number 5 for us but we still haven't ascended. Although we did for the first time actually check to see what that will cost.

Je t'aime.

We need more (and better) jumping photos.

Investigating the club-like vibe at the Grand Palais. Turns out to be an Air France 75th celebration.

Part of the '100 years of French aerospace' exhibit that we never went to back to see.

Random Encounter

Nat and I were riding on a bus one day, a bus that was barely going in the direction of our apartment, when the woman sitting next to us struck up a conversation (in English). She was explaining this movie guide she was carrying with her, only 35 cents. Magical that! Only when Nat started talking about going to school at ESSEC she pricked up. She told us that her daughter did an apartment swap with a girl from California who also is doing her MBA at ESSEC, and her name is Johanna. Well of course we know Johanna so we all got pretty excited about the super-randomness (maybe not really a word) of the whole thing.

Bus lady.

This is as close we've come to bumping into someone we know on our journey so far. I can't recall if it was mentioned in this blog yet but Nat and I have a contest each time we travel: first person to bump into someone they know - whom they aren't expecting to see - wins. So far, nothing. And although Iris isn't part of the game, she gets an honourable mention for discovery an old high school pal sitting in one of her classes in Paris.

Bordeaux in Bordeaux

So after a week of having Caroline and Graham around; with Hannah arriving the very next day to stay with us; and with Nat's parents also coming to Paris the day after that; we decided we needed a mini-break. Of course this decision was made a month ago when the SNCF rail company was having a seat-sale promotion and we wanted to capitalize on it. Bordeaux, here we come!

The day started off magically when Nat spotted a Space Invader hiding in Gare Montparnasse. Yes, a good omen, but this also rocked my world and turn it upside-down. If a mosaic could be indoors at a train station, how many other were there like this across the city? And how would I find them? And no this is not the final mention of mosaics in this post, although I'm sure you're sick of this by now.

Indoors, mais c'est impossible! Kudos to Nat.

The train was pretty sexy and quite fast, which was nice since the last time I rode the TGV we arrived an hour late (grande vitesse my ass). Once we got to Bordeaux I asked Nat where the hell we were, mostly because it was really warm outside. We essentially traveled 600km and I realized I had no clue where in France this city was. Don't worry, we figured it out eventually.

Snazzy seats and LED reading lamps.

I also imagined Bordeaux would be of similar size to Niagara on the Lake. I only assumed this because both are wine regions. And yes I realize this makes no sense. It turns out that Bordeaux is actually quite the sprawling city with over a million people, rich with historical buildings and monuments (duh, this is France after all) but also with a snazzy new tram system and modern art. We spent Friday wandering the city to find our hotel, eating, and then taking a train (read: tractor meets bus meets train) tour around the city.

We made it.

Tram was built in 1995, no wonder it looks better than the TTC.

Why not?

The Mirroir D'eau in fog mode.

Boring mode.

We didn't seem to have time to read these free brochures much less do anything in them. Still not sure why Nat scooped up so many.

Old monument fitted for breast cancer awareness month.

I love city tours.

The 'train': please hang on for dear life.

There's something wrong with this adventure-travel company. Nat spotted this one.

That's the city logo.

Bordeaux's unique dessert made from leftover eggs yolks from the wine-filtering process.

They were underwhelming and expensive. This photo is pre-consumption so Nat is still smiling.

A genuine dollar store, well, sort of.

The washroom in our hotel room. That's Corey showering.

Halfway through the train ride I spotted something on a wall but I was too slow with my camera (but you all know what it was). At seeing the mosaic in Bordeaux I felt great validation. Mostly because I did my chicken-neck-dance the whole time we were there. Hopefully Nat didn't notice. I made sure we walked back to that spot on Saturday morning so I could get a good photo.

Bordeaux invasion determined to be failure by evidence of graffiti (on what is technically already graffiti).

Saturday we went on a bus tour of a couple of wineries. I suppose if you've been on one winery tour, you've been on them all. But this was more interesting because we got to watch members of the obnoxious (but small) French contingent of our tour waltz right up the vines, snatch a handful of grapes, and gobble them up. This infuriated Nat in the same way she sees a tourist uses their camera's flash inside a museum.

Catching some rays at the end of the line.

There was supposed to be a farmers' market.

Lunch would have been great if we had more than 45 minutes to eat.

Waitress was confused when we asked for dessert and the bill when the meal arrived.

They actually gave us these grapes to eat.

Nat inspects the barrel's aroma.

Starting at 50E a bottle... we didn't bring any home.

Boo(ya).

Nat decided she didn't like Bordeaux and that it's too manly.

It really does taste like leather and tobacco, but what the hell do we know?

We had time to hit up the carnival. It's called Barbe a Papa in France.

Nat would love to have this 1 gallon vat of Nutella in our apartment.

Nat on School Supplies

I have no clue how the French actually get through school in an organized manner that would promote learning. From browsing the school supplies sections of quite a few stores, I've concluded that the French don't seem to require binders (or at least not ones bigger than 1/8"). From my observations, they seem to get by with these big plastic
portfolios that they just shove their notes into in a disheveled fashion. Also annoying is that the majority of paper here is either graph paper or this ridiculous lined paper that has big lines every centimeter or so and thinner lines every millimeter - kind of like the paper you used to learn how to write with in school, except worse. On top of all the horizontal lines, there are vertical lines about every inch too. Honestly, with all those lines, how can you read anything?? Argh!

Needless to say, when Hannah arrived on Saturday, in her suitcase were 2 reams of paper, a 3-hole punch, several duotangs, and some hand soap from Bath & Body Works (the last item isn't exactly relevant but my hands smell so lemony-fresh now).

Stay tuned for next week: Hannah, Nat's parents, Hannah's and Iris's parents, and of course more Space Invaders!

Week 7 photos on Flickr

Notre 6e Semaine: F is for Froid!

2008-10-07T04:07:00.001-07:00

We came back to Paris this week and were welcomed with: fall – as in cold, grey, blustery and occasionally rainy weather. Blahhh...

Go to Week 6 photos on Flickr

Negotiations: an intensive class

The day after we got back to Paris, Nat started class bright and early at 9am. T of course meant leaving the house at 7:45am to get to school on time. She survived the rush-hour throngs of sweaty business people and was able to make it to class every day, which in this case was Monday to Thursday. Class ran from 9am to 5:30pm and consisted of lectures, role-plays and debriefs with one of the most famous professors at ESSEC: Alain Lempreur. He is the director of the European Centre for Research in Negotiations, a Harvard prof, and has worked with the WHO, NATO, the European Commission, and the Hutsus and Tutsis in Burundi (Africa) (he also used to teach at France's prestigious ENA for those in the know!). The class was intense and left Nat exhausted and zombie-like everyday. It's evident that she learned something though: even in daily life negotiations, she's ramped up the skills. Watch out!

What Corey did all week while Nat was in school

Oh yes, I had many adventures during the daylight hours in Paris. But mostly I discovered my obsession, and knack - like a radar of sorts - for finding the graffiti mosaics hidden around the city.

My favourite one so far.

It is really akin to say a Tony Hawk video game where you have to travel around locating all the various secret elements in a level to score 100%. So technically speaking, if there are 704 mosaics in this city (and this is according to some info I found online although I don't really believe it) and I've found 21 - unassisted by any maps online mind you - then as of this posting, I've got a score of 3.4%. At least I've got something to do for the next 2.5 months, n'est pas?

Check out my mosaic collection here.

Anyway, here is what I did this week…

Sancha says it's a church therefor we must photograph it.

This monument was all smashed up and looked like it belonged in another country.

Smashed-up-ness. I think someone was living in there.

The Zodiac relief was cool and Sancha loved the door handle.

I finally painted something, Notre Dame from behind.

Paris's skinniest park with Iris. It's on a viaduct 40 feet above the city.

Cliché but fragrant.

Everything is pretty here.

Drinking some wine to escape the downpour.

A trip to the photo museum.

We were inspired to take some black and white shots.

The gang, in blue.

Smoking only looks good in photos.

An interesting building I noticed while Nat and I searched for the American Library in Paris.

Oooh, art.

Nat celebrates fall (or gravity).

Louis Vuitton flagship store on Champs Elysee.

Architectural juxtaposition.

Caroline and Graham visit Paris

Natalie's little sister Caroline and her boyfriend Graham came to visit us at the end of the week. Our cozy (read: tiny) apartment and the new foursome make for intimate living quarters!

Nuit Blanche

For all you Torontonians who thought Nuit Blanche was an awesome idea, guess what? You have the French to thank for it! Apparently Nuit Blanche originated in Paris 7 years ago and has since sparked similar movements across the world, all on the same day. We dragged Care and Graham to check it out.

Excited to go. Unaware of the crowds.

First stop: Tour Montparnasse (remember the ugly tower that resulted in the city of Paris creating a special business district outside of the borders?). There was a set of intense spotlights aimed at the sky: they were so strong, the beams of light reached the clouds. The exhibit was set up to show the interaction of light and sound - people could actually interact with the exhibit to produce different sounds. We joined the throngs of people in the line-up to participate. Of course, the French don't really DO line-ups, so it was just a massive crush of people all pushing to enter the exhibit. We mustered up all the Frenchness we could and eventually wrestled our way into the exhibit.

Tour Montparnasse with the light beams.

Light beams from crowd level.

Yay we finally made it into the exhibit.

From inside (obviously).

We also saw another exhibit which was images of computer screens arranged in a configuration of the world's continents and projected into a public swimming pool. The screens each showed what the sky looked like in various parts of the world. Interesting but not quite worth the hassle of removing our shoes and socks to enter the exhibit!

Pretty lame, but the facility did have washrooms and I needed to pee.

The last exhibit was in a totally different part of town. It was a new area to us and was actually really cool to discover since it's kind of like the Distillery District in Toronto. We thought we were going to see an exhibit of what looked like Pikachus performing an opera. In fact, that's what it was, but somehow I was expecting them to be big. Instead, they were about 5 inches high. With hundreds of people lining up to see the exhibit, we decided to call it a night.

The newest metro line has security gates.

It is also just one really long train.

Free Museum Day - part deux
or
Come all ye assholes!

So yet another first Sunday of the month came this week, and with it: Free Museum Day. Although Caroline and Graham came in just the day before, and we had been out late at Nuit Blanche, Corey set the alarm and was up at 10:30am marching around, barking orders to hurry up so we could capitalize on the free-ness. After a few mugs of coffee, the rest of us troops were ready to go. Out we set to see the Musee d'Orsay… along with half of the tourists in Paris apparently! The line-up was huge, yet remarkably orderly and organized - a dead giveaway that there were no locals present.

Inside was the usual tourist scene: people taking pictures with flash directly in front of signs specifically banning them from doing so; giant crowds in the rooms with famous artists (Van Gogh, Degas) and empty rooms containing works of less-than-famous others; and, just a general free-for-all that was enough to make any rational person want to run out of the building screaming. We soldiered through and were rewarded with the understanding of the origins of the famous Art Nouveau "Chat Noir" poster that is somewhat symbolic of Paris.

Full house at Musee d'Orsay.

No one wants to SEE the painting, they just want a picture of it.

More jerks in the Van Gogh room; impossible to enjoy the art with these circumstances.

The guy on the right is saying "Yeah let's get photo of these" (well maybe).

...But the metro never arrived.

Next up: the Musee de l'Orangerie which is located in the gardens across from the Louvre. After waiting in line in the drizzle and occasional duststorms, we made it inside. This is a smaller museum whose pride and glory is two oval rooms arranged as an ellipse, which contain full-size panoramas of Monet's world-famous Water Lillies. There was other stuff in the museum, and it was pretty impressive given that the bulk of the art there was the collection of just two guys. But by far and away, the Water Lillies were the best: they alone made it worth the wait.

This crowd seemed more civilized.

Corey ponders Monet (but only for the camera).

Really big paintings.

Where the wild things are?

And finally, a mad dash through the Louvre to see the famous Mona Lisa. Or really, to laugh at all the tourists in front of her!! She is now on her own wall in the middle of the room, and is of course surrounded by throngs (if you're not keeping count, this is actually the third time Nat has used the word "throng") of tourists who don't understand WHY she is beautiful or important, but just know that if they bring home pictures of her, their friends will be impressed. Ha!

Mona Lisa Chaos I, 2008.

Mona Lisa Chaos II, 2008.

Mona Lisa Chaos III, 2008.

Sure there are other paintings in this room (and huge!) but does anyone notice?

Graham's favourite painting.

Randomly, amongst the thousands of people there, we managed to run into Iris. See? Even in the biggest museum in Paris, it's really just a small world.

Week 6 photos on Flickr

Notre 5e Semaine: Pivo in Prague

2008-10-02T02:27:00.001-07:00

Welcome to week 5. Our regularly scheduled author could not be with us today so I'm filling in to cover our adventures in Prague (which means fewer words and more photos).

Go to Week 5 photos on Flickr

We left Calgary on Monday evening and flew back across the Atlantic to London and then directly to Prague (because it was much cheaper to not go back home to Paris even though we already had a flight booked to Prague for the next morning). So in less than a week we put about 16,000km of flying under our belt.

Handy tip: If you're flying Air Canada and the plane has their enRoute on-demand entertainment system, use the back of your plastic cutlery to press the touch-screen instead of your fat fingers.

English English

So we had a 7-hour stop in London which involved traveling from Heathrow Airport to Luton Airport. And since it took a hundred hours by subway to get into downtown, we had only had about 3 hours to spend in the city. Naturally we headed to the most important landmark first...

Technically it's in the wrong location, but kudos to the tourism department responsible for this.

Look at me, I'm Harry Potter!

After this, we traipsed around the train station looking for a pub only to realize that London sucks (or more specifically the area around the train station sucks) and that we genuinely missed Paris and all its obnoxious citizens. We did find a nice place for food and a pint.

What's London without fish 'n chips and a pint?

Let me suggest that if you can, at all costs, avoid Luton Airport. Home to all the budget airlines it is the crummiest airport. Even Buttonville airport with its french fry-making machine (broken) and random Mike Harris sighting (Daniel and Resnick; OntarioForce One) was nicer.

Prior to entering, we were in good spirits.

Everything was going smoothly until we approached security and were informed that it was a one-bag-per-person policy. After some arguing in various languages (and why can't they speak English in England!?) we cooled down and proceeded to stuff all our belongings into one bag each. This meant I was walking around with a half-zipped duffle that weighed about 40 lbs, certainly not fit as a carry-on. I even made it through security however a couple guards commented that my bag shouldn't be allowed on the plane, and my bag also trampled some girl's Guess sunglasses and snapped them in half, but it wasn't my fault. Naturally once through the gate, we ripped everything apart and walked on the plane with several carry-ons, just like everyone else. Stupid Luton.

Out and about in Prague

In Prague we stayed with Nat's Aunt Hella and Uncle Pavel. She told me that they didn't speak any English, which was fine since Nat speaks Czech and could translate. Except that Pavel would occasionally drop English words here and there until by the end of our stay I'm pretty sure he was constructing full sentences. This was a nice surprise.

Nat's Aunt Hella and Uncle Pavel.

Famous 500-year-old astronomical clock. Good luck reading this.

Street meat.

Old town square where a Coke commercial was filmed.

Starbucks.

Lunch with Nat's Bubbie Ruth.

'Doggy bag' dispensers. Complete with cardboard scoop.

Nat's original Lavalife profile picture was from this spot in the Metro.

Oh look, it's Prague Castle.

Nat's cousin Peter does the marketing for this fabric softener.

Every sidewalk is a work of art.

On our second day in Prague we met Nat's cousin Micha who gave us a guided tour of Prague Castle. Micha knew everything there was to know about the castle and he knowledge of history was truly impressive.

Micha explains the story on the doors.

Look at me, I'm a pony.

Micha's dad Ladja called and said we were all going for dinner. We ended up at a nice joint with no tourists and had an authentic Czech dinner experience: starting dinner (on an empty stomach) with a huge shot of Becherovka and followed by a pint of pivo ("pivo" is beer in Czech by the way).

The food hasn't arrived yet, let's keep drinking.

Oh the Czechs love their beer. And according to our Lonely Planet guidebook, they consume the most beer per capita in the world, coming in at 160L of pivo per person per year. But with pivnices and pivovars (pubs which brew their own beer) lining every street, and with beer costing around 30kc ($2 Cdn) a pint, it isn't hard to imagine.

We headed to a pivnice or pivovar (I still don't know the difference) for more beer even though I pleaded "staci" (enough!). Here we had topinki (toast) with cloves of garlic rubbed on top. At this point I was beginning to understand Nat's eating habits. The Czechs love garlic (cesnek) about as much as they love beer and feel it's the perfect cure for the flu.

The boys.

I'd also like to point out that at this point, Hella's fridge was filled with about 24 containers of yogurt and 8 kinds of cheese which also helped understand Nat's infatuation with dairy products.

We chowed down on garlic toast, or in Micha's case just plain garlic, more beer (and yes I was very drunk) and then ended the night with Ladja forcing me to drink a huge shot of Slivovice, 50% alcoholic plum brandy. And just so we're clear, this was a Thursday night; Ladja had an English exam the next morning; Micha had school the next morning; and Micha isn't of legal drinking age (although at 6'4" no one seems to care)! I was reeling and had to make a pit stop at a KFC on the to the Metro.

Begging for mercy.

We spent one of our days touring around the old Jewish Quarter or Prague, which used to be the largest Jewish settlement in Central Europe. The ancient synagogues are now museums and in one case a unique Holocaust memorial.

Old Jewish cemetery.

The cheapest kippa on earth.

I snuck this photo in the Holocaust memorial synagogue. Every wall is painted like this. The name Litvaova (which is really Litva) was the closest I could find, but then again, I'm pretty sure I have no Czech ancestry.

In the evening we went to see the Czech Philharmonic at the Ruldolfinium theatre. We were also smart enough to buy tickets at the box office instead of the English-speaking salespeople (read: scalpers) outside the theatre who sell tickets to naïve tourists at 3 times the price.

Champagne at intermission.

Don't worry, the concert had ended.

And then... more pivo!

They weren't serving food anymore and I was hungry.

So we found some street meat, or street cheese actually.

The most creative washroom I've ever been in.

Obecni Dum, the Municipal House. This is where Nat's parents first met.

Family fun time

We were also in Prague to spend time with Nat's family since she hadn't seen them in over 2 years. Plus the family recently grew when cousin Sasha had baby Philip (called Philipek) back in April. He is possibly the most well behaved baby I've ever met and since he's so cute we must have 100 pictures of him. The weekend was spent on various hikes in the forest north of the city core, family meals, and basically sitting around waiting for Philipek to start crawling (which I'm certain he did the day after we left).

Little Philipek.

Family hike.

Notice that this 'giraffe' has junk.

Hella absorbing cosmic energy at this stonehenge-like arrangement in the forest.

We forced Nat to do one of her token poses.

Peter and his nephew. He never put him down.

Nat and her other Bubbie.

Hanging out with Ladja, Bubbie, and cousin Christine.

Peter and Andrea. They also just moved in together.

Proof that Nat really does like babies (or at least happy ones).

Bubbie on Skype with Nat's mom.

Entire family gathering via Skype.

4 generations.

The girls on hiking day 2.

Let's have a man-to-man chat about why you aren't crawling yet.

Return to Paris

Even though we were returning to the land of the obnoxious (apparent from the chaos at the boarding 'line-up' on a predominantly French Prague-to-Paris flight) we were also happy to be back. But we also noted that, for some reason, Prague has a grand infatuation with Paris and there are several instances of this envy.

View from in front of the castle.

This tower is called the Petrínská rozhledna. We just referred to it as the Eiffel Tower, but we never actually got very close. According to Micha, the Eiffel Tower is based on some Czech designs that Mr. Eiffel had seen 10 years earlier – Wikipedia has no mention of this. The Petrínská rozhledna was constructed 2 years after the Eiffel Tower was completed.

Paris Street, home to all of the ultra-luxe shops.

This isn't on Paris Street and they don't serve French food.

And we're home.

Week 5 photos on Flickr

Notre 4e Semaine: Remembering Mark Oliver Lochli (1974 – 2008)

2008-10-02T01:18:00.001-07:00

We dedicate this week of our blog to our dear friend Mark who died tragically on September 15th, 2008. Mark will be loved and deeply missed forever.

On the morning of September 15th, we received a harrowing phone call from Nat's best friend Hannah. Her husband Mark had been in an accident and was in the hospital in life-threatening condition. Nat stayed on the phone with Hannah throughout the day, getting updates of Mark's condition. Hannah's little sister Iris is also on exchange in Paris, and when Mark's condition worsened we called her over to the apartment right away. We were all stunned to hear around 6pm Paris time that Mark had died.

We immediately started booking flights to Calgary to be with Hannah - Iris left the very next morning, and Corey and I followed the day after. The week that followed was intense. Hannah and Mark had been married for just 5 weeks - we had just participated in and celebrated their wedding almost a month ago. Hannah's other friends Kerry, Letitzia, and Duane flew in to Calgary, and along with Nat and Iris, the girls formed a protective enclave around Hannah during the week, always making sure that one of us was by her side. We all stayed at Mark's parent's house, and the grief and sorrow was palpable. Mark was such a wonderful, giving and kind person - it seemed (and still seems) so unfair that his life was over when it was only just beginning.

Mark died on Monday, September 15th. A prayer session was held for him on Friday, September 19th - the 5-year anniversary that he and Hannah started officially dating. At the session, Hannah read aloud a beautiful card she wrote for her dear husband, best friend and partner in life, Mark. Nat held her hand at the altar while she read it, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Neither was there enough room at the church the next day for the funeral mass: Mark's last gathering was a sold-out affair with standing room only. He was laid to rest in a beautiful spot in Queen's Park cemetery, with the sun shining down on him and all of his friends who gathered to say goodbye one last time. We all got together at the Lochli's house afterwards for a party in honour of Mark. With all of his friends gathered together looking at old photos and telling stories about Mark, along with endless coolers of beer, Jaegger-bombs and many, many rounds of tequila shots, we celebrated Mark and his life. Judging by the number of empties the next day, I think we did him proud.

To view Mark's obituary and accompanying guestbook in the Calgary Herald, please click here.

The Story of Mark and Hannah

Mark and Hannah met on the beach in the Dominican Republic in April 2003. Her little sister Iris had dragged her along on one last family vacation there. Hannah and Iris were tanning and watching a group of guys play beach volleyball when Hannah leaned over and told Iris while pointing at a tall, dark, handsome guy, "THAT's the kind of guy I want to marry". Little did she know what role that guy would play in her life. Turns out that the guy was Mark, and he was part of a small group of friends that had already been at the resort for a week with a bigger group; the small group had opted to extend their stay for a second week, which coincided with the week Hannah was there After bonding on the volleyball court and stealing a few midnight kisses, the two of them knew they had found something special.

They stayed in touch over the summer, and Hannah even secretly re-jigged a pre-planned trip through Western Canada with a girlfriend to include a stop in Calgary (where Mark lived) so they could hang out. By September, they knew for sure that the connection they had was real and so on September 19th, 2003, they officially started dating.

By the Fall of 2004, Hannah made the big jump and moved to cow-town to be with Mark. While it was hard to be apart from her friends and family, being close to the man she loved was worth it. Mark taught her the ways of the west, including all about stampede, partying with friends and enjoying every minute of life.

Mark and Hannah were actually so well suited for each other in this respect. While Hannah is the more gregarious of the two, they both shared a zest for life and a level of generosity and caring that couldn't have been better-matched. Hannah always came up with these plans to go places and do things - usually involving squeezing every last possible hour of vacation time and dollars of the budget - and Mark was always more than happy to go along. It's like Hannah would say "Let's jump!" and Mark would say "Yeah!!! How high??".

BBQ with friends

Mark's Birthday (with a Deep 'n' Delicious cake - special!)

Teaching Hannah about the Flames

All dressed up for the EnCana Christmas party.

Supporting the cause at the "No BSTL" party (aka Julian's Birthday)

Gettin' coupley at Stampede!

Together, Hannah and Mark had many adventures, including countless trips to the Caribbean and Mexico with their friends, what seemed like monthly visits to Toronto and even a few jaunts further afield including a tour of Europe and partying in Vegas. Thanks to Hannah and her snap-happy ways, all of these trips were thoroughly documented, so here's just a few snapshots.

TRIP PICTURES

Getting cultural in Austria (Mark actually bought this outfit and took it home for Halloween)

Picnic in their apartment in Paris

At the Seine in Paris

Ice Bar in Copenhagen, Denmark

Checking out vineyards in Kelowna.

Working as a team at their favourite sport in Mexico.

Lovers in Hawaii

While Corey and I were on a trip to Calgary in 2007, at a friend's birthday bash, Mark secretly told us that he was going to surprise Hannah and propose to her in Toronto the following week. Imagine me laughing inside as I consoled a very drunk Hannah in the bathroom that night as she cried, saying that Mark was never going to propose! Together with Kerry and Samson, the five of us hatched a plan to get Mark and Hannah down to the beach volleyball courts in Toronto for the proposal. We carried out the plan almost flawlessly and being the schemers that we were, we actually photographed and videoed the whole thing for posterity!

Right after the proposal

The happy couple!

The schemers!

Still beaming - 5 hours later!

16 months, a zillion wedding update emails, phone calls and spreadsheets, and two rowdy bachelorette parties later, the wedding took place on a very blustery but sunny day at the Royal Canadian Yacht Club. Those of us who were there remember that Mark and Hannah never looked happier - Mark had a permanent little-kid giddy smile on his face that day. The entire day went without a hitch (well almost - the reverend was an hour late and showed up James Bond-style via speedboat!). The ceremony was beautiful, the dinner was so tasty that everyone cleaned their plates, the speeches were great and you could really feel that the entire room was filled with love. We all partied long into the night until the yacht club kicked us all out at 2:30am. It went down as one of best weddings in history.

"Oh yeah, I'm getting married today!"

Mark reviewing his vows yet again (even though Hannah kept telling him they would be there on paper to read)

Getting excited!

Walking his soon-to-be mother-in-law down the aisle.

Mark awaiting his bride, trying to hold back the tears of joy

Not doing so well!

The handoff from dad (Sorin) to Mark.

The ceremony. Check out those smiles.

Awwww

And again! Awwwww

"And with this ring, I thee wed"

Sealed with a kiss.

Signing and making it official!

The new Mr. and Mrs. Lochli

Team Bridal

Posing for the people

Mark with the girls. As giddy as a kid in a candy store!

The beautiful couple

"We did it!!"

First Dance

Proving they were up for any challenge

The end of the night. No tie, no jacket, shirt open, drink in one hand, wife in the other: signs of a good time.

Our Goodbye to Mark

Mark was the kind of person that we all aspire to be. He was generous, caring, smart, athletic, handsome and easy-going. As a husband and partner to Hannah, he was the best. The love she told me about was the stuff of fairytales - confident, everlasting and reaffirmed every day. The day of their marriage - the day they professed that everlasting love to each other and all of their friends and family - was without a doubt, the happiest day of both of their lives.

It's so unfair that such a wonderful person was taken from this world at such a young age and at a point where his life was just beginning. We'll both miss Mark terribly and we'll always remember his permanent smile, nodding head and easy-going way of always saying "yeah, let's do that!".

Mark, you are forever in our hearts.

Notre 3e Semaine: Mes pieds!

2008-09-14T15:18:00.000-07:00

Oh yes, we walked around. A lot...

Go to Week 3 photos on Flickr

Les animaux

So while our classmates were off on a fieldtrip, we decided to take a field trip of our own just a few hundred yards down our street to the Jardin des Plantes (Yes, "Garden of Plants" - the French apparently haven't grasped the concept of subtlety.). It was originally one of the king's garden where medicinal plants were grown; it now houses some fantastic botanical gardens and a few museums. We decided to visit the Museum of Evolution, and it blew us away. Everything from the architecture of the building, to the brilliantly presented exhibits all about the evolution of animals and mankind was amazing. The "Circle of Life" was breathtaking.

From up high they looked like little toys.

After seeing the temporary exhibit about underwater mammals, I decided it was one of the best museums I'd ever been to. The display included displays of all kinds of skeletons from a sperm whale (huge!) to a regular dolphin along with explanations of the species and video of them in action underwater. Also part of the exhibit were different areas about the behaviours of underwater mammals (breeding, feeding, playing, etc). Corey was quite enjoying himself as you see here playing with Shamu and playing an interactive "who eats what?" game (I had to kick him off so actual kids could play it).

Note that all French kids are actually jerks anyway.

After a quick trip home for lunch, we returned to the garden so Corey could truly be an "artiste" in Paris. He set to work with his sketchbook and watercolours, while I took a stroll through the fabulous gardens.

The passers-by were all interested in what I was doing.

La cooperation!

After a successful and chilled out Dessert Crepes & Wine party on Tuesday evening, we decided to forge into true dinner party territory. With the Italians Maggie and Marghe at the helm, and about 6 bottles of wine from the local grocery store, we set to work throwing a dinner party for our friends. Okay, well it was really Marghe and Corey doing all the cooking - the rest of us were "helping" by drinking and being social.

La cooperation: Italie et Les Etas Unis

Executive chef and sous chef.

The concierge came by around 11pm to tell us to shut the hell up (all our windows were wide open and we were quite loud, and drunk).

At any rate, it worked out and we were treated to a truly Italian home-cooked meal of fresh Bruschetta, saffron risotto and breaded veal soaked in butter. Delicissio!!! As the clock struck 12, it was our friend Sancha's birthday. Luckily we had a petite "tartino" for our favourite Sanchino!

He's wishing for a nice French chick.

This one needs no description.

Sancha's birthday

So our friend Sancha turned the big 3-2 this week (you heard it here first). As he's getting on in years, he decided on a cosy dinner at a local bistro near the Pompidou centre. We had about 13 people for a delicious French meal.

Happy Birthday!

The big falafel showdown

There's a place in the 4th district called Le Marais, which houses a bit of a middle eastern neighbourhood. As you walk along the streets, you'll see kosher delis, bakeries and falafel stands. Perhaps the most famous falafel restaurant of them all is "L'As Falafel", which Lenny Kravitz once proclaimed as the best falafel in the world. Well, we weren't quite convinced, so we decided to hold a falafel showdown. Contestants: L'As Falafel, and Mi-Va-Mi, which are right across the street from each other. Here's the breakdown:

Lubavitchers hell-bent on having me wrap tefillin.

L'As Falafel: this place is all about its reputation and it's hard not to be seduced by the long line-up. On the plus side, this falafel was stuffed full of fresh veggies and the marinated eggplant inside was superb. Other than that though, there wasn't much remarkable about this place.

Lenny you liar.

Mi-Va-Mi: the underdog always has to work harder to win and there was no exception here. Mi-Va-Mi's actual falafel balls were delicious with a hint of spice and coriander. This falafel also contained eggplant, but a crispier version that didn't compare to L'As'. The clincher though was the special spicy sauce, reminiscent of garlicky kim-chee. Delish!

Verdict: Mi-Va-Mi, thumbs up! L'As, thumbs down (stop coasting on your reputation!)

Pape à Paris!

The Pope came to Paris on September 12 & 13, to Notre Dame (obviously). We had planned to meet up with our friend Peggy to go down to Notre Dame square to see if we could catch a glimpse of him, or at the very least, the Popemobile! Well, we were at H&M when we saw the longest convoy of police cars and trucks go by. We raced out of the store to catch the end of the procession - at the beginning was the 'mobile, which we had missed. Darn!

So we decided to actually go to the square to see what was happening. It was nuts - all the subways in the vicinity were closed, and there were TONS of police officers and security checkpoints at all entry points to the square. We stood in line, had our bags checked and eventually pushed our way into the square. We were greeted by volunteers who handed us our Pope Packages (consisting of flag, prayer book and emergency poncho) and bottles of water. The square looked like a Scouting jamboree. We had no idea that girl and boy scouts troops were religious but there were TONS of them there, all in their coloured shirts and patches.

Except for this one guy who eschewed his shirt in favour of a better one.

Peggy's excited at the emergency poncho.

Pope and pony (which looks like it belongs in Pirates of the Caribbean).

We stayed for about an hour and watched the big screens outside which were broadcasting the processions going on inside the church. I swear one of the screens was HD too. There was a camera on a big crane panning out into the audience and whenever the footage cut to the crowd outside, there was a ton of flag-waving and cheering (see video).

On our way out, we saw that we had been lucky to get into the square. People were jammed all along the Seine, watching the processions on smaller-but-still-big screen TVs. Nuts!

You&I™ turns 2

Yes, it's official, we are 2. We celebrated the anniversary by having a very Parisian day. We strolled through the Jardin du Luxembourg where we watched part of a free outdoor Jazz concert. We also sat in the garden on a few of the seemingly thousands of free chairs the municipality provides. And we're talking loose, portable, real metal chairs. In any other country, these A) would have been chained down to something, and B) would have cost at least 2 Euros an hour to rent. Ah, France, land of pleasure - we bow to your ways! After our park-break, we went in search of the pony and donkey rides that the Park map promised.

Look, isn't that the mini-boss from Kid Chameleon? I know my brothers will remember this one.

Just another castle in Paris.

Real ponies. Oh snap!

We also caught our first glimpse of the grande olde French sport of Pétanque. Yes, it seems that this is where all middle-aged Parisian men disappear to on weekends: the petanque grounds in the local park. These guys, chain-smoking in their eighties-themed windbreakers, were all business. You would have thought this was the World Series, the pomp, precision and arguing that was going on!

The definition of hardcore: playing petanque and smoking at the same time. Just look at this motley crew.

We stumbled upon some kind of potato festival/promotion...

but they had free samples of French cuisine.

It was a cold day, so we decided to grab some pastries and head home for a coffee break to warm up. After having coffee in a café the other day, I've actually decided that if you want a REAL coffee, you either have to go to Starbucks or go home. You see, here "Café" means an espresso. As in, a thimble-full of coffee. When you're cold and tired, that just won't cut it. And sadly, a "Café Crème" (coffee with milk, served in what we would consider a small mug) costs 4.50 euros at a café. So then the 2.60 euro Americano at Starbucks seems like a bargain in comparison! And apparently, that's why the Americano is call that - it's the "big" type of coffee that Americans order when abroad.

Thimble of coffee.

Lady Liberty hanging out in the park.

Saint Sulpice from the Da Vinci Code (where Silas kills the nun).

One very expensive penthouse apartment.

After a pastry break and a movie, we headed out in search of dinner. We tried to find this one place in our guidebook, but turns out it didn't exist! So after a one-hour walk, we finally got to this little hole-in-the-wall French restaurant near our place, which was also mentioned in our guidebook. We had a delicious meal (me: foie gras and seafood with wine, corey: lamb with gratinéed potatoes and a beautiful apple pie for dessert). We then headed over to the Eiffel Tower, which is perhaps one of the most romantic spots in Paris. We made it just in time for the twinkly light show! Awwww!!!

Our second night-time visit, but we still haven't ascended it yet.

Dance-party mode (on the hour for 10 minutes).

Playing with exposure times.

Chinatown, La Defense

Today we headed to the district south of ours to check out Paris's Chinatown. While it was filled with its share of cheap and tasty restaurants, along with some giant and not-so-giant food stores, I don't think this Chinatown holds a candle to the one in Toronto. We tried to check out the famous Tang Brothers store, but after almost being squashed by the crowds we quickly got out of there. $1.50 noodles just weren't worth – it even to Corey!.

The bus: because it's scenic.

Some Vietnamese take-out we ate.

It's funny right?

We then headed over to La Defense, which is the business district of Paris. There's actually only one skyscraper within the 20 districts of Paris proper - the Montparnasse tower. They built it in 1973 and then quickly realized it was the worst decision ever because it was hideous and ruined the spirit of the local neighbourhood. So the city of Paris decided no more skyscrapers in Paris proper - anything new must be built outside the city. And hence, La Defense was born. It's a virtual city of giant skyscrapers all confined to one area and this is where most of Paris works (we know because this is where the commuter train empties out). Even though this is where the skyscrapers were allowed to be built, there were still restrictions: the community had to be aligned with the "historical axis" through Paris, which goes from La Bastille, to the arch at the Louvre, to the Arc de Triomphe. So La Defense has its own modern arch, which continues the horizontal line through Paris so that it is indeed a part of the city.

Look at me, I'm a tourist.

You can see the Arc de Triomphe in the middle, far far away.

Check out this massive panorama of La Defense.

The architecture is in such sharp contrast to downtown Paris.

Beautiful art behind La Grande Arche

We also learned a lesson about Sunday shopping: it doesn't exist. On our way home we were so excited about the food we were going to buy and the meals we were going to make and no such luck. So this evening we suffered with bread and cheese and peach champagne. It's not as fun as it sounds, I promise.

Week 3 photos on Flickr

Notre 2e Semaine: Metro millefeuille

2008-09-07T14:44:00.000-07:00

This week we started French class, made friends, and used our metro passes like there was no tomorrow.

(I don't want to read any of the junk below, just show me all your photos: Go to Flickr now)

New ponies

So on her 4th day in France, our new friend Peggy (who goes to school where the people from the OC live!) celebrated her birthday. Even after only knowing each other for 3 days, we have an exchange student posse and so we all took Peggy out for dinner to celebrate. Except we're all new here. And we don't know where anything is. Or the difference between crap and crappier. And there were about 12 of us.

So after traipsing around in circles for about an hour, we finally ended up in this super-touristy street where all the restaurants have "Menus" (prix fixe combos) for somewhat cheap prices. We had a pretty good meal, including some beef masquerading as duck and a chocolate souffle that looked like a plain old cupcake. Of course we all ordered du vin, so in the end everything was tres bien. Santé et bonne fête Peggy!!

French class

My MBA classes don't start until October and in September, the school runs a set of French language classes for the incoming exchange students. Here, we experienced our first bit of French process. I asked the Exchange office if Corey could attend. Response? "No, the classes are only for registered students". Then, during the assessment test, I asked the head teacher if he could come. Response? "No, the classes are only for registered students". Finally, I get into my class and ask my teacher if Corey can come. Response? "But of course! Everyone should learn French!"

Lesson: in France, you need to find the right person to ask the right questions to.

Class is genuinely interesting. I didn't doze off once.

So now we go to school together. We have cahiers and devoirs, just like in high school. And just like in high school, there are "dialogue" exercises too, complete with bad music and all. Our teacher is a nut. Totally French: a 20-inch waist, smokes like a chimney and speaks a mile-a-minute. Despite his craziness, he's actually a great teacher. He gives everyone a chance to speak and makes us all practice. Yet he still manages to make the experience distinctly French. During the intro class, he made everyone introduce themselves and say whether they were "pas célibataire, célibataire, or célibataire géographique (i.e., what happens in France stays in France!)". Yes, in MBA school in France, we focus on the essentials!

Check out that cinched up belt.

Oh IKEA, we missed you

After about a week, we decided it was time to do some laundry. This being our first time living together, it was a bit of an adventure. I won't say who did it, but somebody put someone's delicates in the wrong colour pile and the results weren't pretty. :P On top of that, our washing machine is the size of a matchbox so cramming in a North American sized load of laundry in it and hoping that it comes out clean was asking too much as it turns out.

Our first load took 3 hours (wash + dry) and came out warm, damp and smelling like sweat with a dash of laundry detergent. Yuck. Not only that, but the drying part of the process sucks a TON of energy. Corey kept running to the electricity meter and freaking out that it was running so fast.

...Which leads to our trip to the land of Swedes and economically priced home furnishings. Oh Ikea, you were the site of our 3rd date, how could we resist your meatballs and bottomless 1 Euro coffees? So we trekked out to the Ikea by the airport (there are actually 9 Ikeas in the Paris area. But if everyone decorates their apartment like ours, that might explain why. All ikea, all the time.). It took about 1.5 hours to get there and that was WITH the express train.

Excited about cheap (and not bad) food.

We relaxed with our bottomless coffee (and tried all the buttons on the coffee machine).

We got our 13E drying rack, 1.50E cutting boards and some 0.80E cookies for good measure (well, really for sustenance on the long journey back). Today we did a Euro-size load of laundry (read: 5 pairs of underwear, 3 pairs of socks and 2 t-shirts) and put our drying rack to the test. It's pretty humid here though, so I wonder if the drying rack will deliver on its promise?? Stay tuned for the results.

They sell bath products – so cool, so strange.

Iris arrives

Our friend Iris arrived on Friday. She is doing a BBA exchange term in Paris at some school she doesn't seem to know the name of. Iris lives in the Cite Universitaire which is basically a giant university campus (for international students) but sans university. The concept is actually pretty neat. She will no doubt be partying for the next 4 months with people from around the globe.

We went out for dinner to what we thought was a nice restaurant. That is, the paper covering the tables almost looked like cloth and the paper napkins were very thick and rolled up. It ended up being a comedy of errors with several waitresses coming to tell us every 5 minutes that they had run out of each item we had ordered. Franchement!

On her first day in Paris, nothing was going to bring her down.

A trip to Montmarte, then too much wine

We went to a flea market Saturday morning but it was really just a bunch of guys trying to peddle D&G belts and endless blocks of Converse shoes. The whole thing was shady and underscored by the thieves running through the metro station spilling designer-knockoff contraband; and the pilgrimage of people who entered the metro (gratuit) through the exit doors as we were sliding out.

So we got the hell out of there and headed to Montmarte. We climbed all these steps only to learn at the top (via our Let's Go Paris guidebook) that our snazzy metro passes let us ride the funicular for free.

They look like logs, but it's really concrete.

A stroll through the artists' quarter and a bite to eat.

I swear he saw me take this photo but I didn't have the guts to take another to get it right.

"Amelie's" metro station.

After the all-important French pastry break we headed to Peggy and Sancha's place for wine & cheese. We all buy wine that costs between 2–3E so it wasn't hard for our small group to devour 8 bottles of wine.

Found this on the way. Ring a bell for any Harry Potter fans?

No one argued when Karissa and I suggested that we cook for them. Wandering drunk through a French grocery was fun. Especially since you can just utter the magic word "pardon" and knock people out of the way. Everything was going dandy until I dropped the soy sauce on the floor the moment I returned. But alas, we managed to cook up a storm and feed everyone.

Let's see you cook a meal for 8 on that TINY stovetop.

Margherita is shocked to learn that us North Americans know nothing about how bidets work.

Later that night we went to a happening night club. We arrived at 1am which is apparently quite early in Paris. Sancha quickly showed Karissa who's boss on the dance floor (you got served!) but even more impressive were the French guys having their own dance-off. And all this took place in some swank catacomb-style basement.

FREE museum day: September edition

On the first Sunday of the month, many museums open their doors for free. This means you will get a horde of uncultured idiots (I really wanted to say assholes but Nat wouldn't let me) clogging up the exhibits, taking their endless photos, or even worse – actually touching precious works of art (and yes, we witnessed this).

Our first stop was the Rodin Museum. We thought that was a good idea. Get it? Ahh...

Je pense donc je suis?

Iris enjoying a not-so-quick burger at Quick (the Belgian McDo).

Our guidebook said the aquarium was also free today so we trekked across the city to find it. The building also houses the museum of immigration (how could this ever sound exciting?) and it turns out that that was the only free part. We left, but we did get this snazzy photo of the building facade as a memento of the journey.

Finally we went to the Picasso Museum and Nat found a wrapper for a Clear Blue pregnancy test in the women's washroom at the museum. Who the hell goes to a museum to check if they're preggers? Ah Paris, you will never stop surprising us.

Week 2 photos on Flickr

Notre 1er Semaine: Franchement! Bienvenue a Paris

2008-09-06T00:58:00.000-07:00

Yes welcome to Paris indeed.

We arrived to find that our airport shuttle wasn't there and then they fed us several excuses which would have involved some time-travel or teleportation to actually be possible. A typical French welcome, so at least we can thank them for that. We took a taxi into the city instead. 42E !!!

Look how much luggage we had. (This is in Toronto)

Pneumatic tubes. The future of travel in Paris.

Thankfully Emmanuel was waiting to greet us at our apartment and show us everything. He is super nice and helped us out when our internet went down a few days later (for an entire week! C'etait tres embetant!)

Our apartment

View all the apartment pics here.

Welcome to the IKEA showroom. Basically 95% of this apartment is furnished in neutral IKEA furniture. It's perfect, it's spacious and it's now our home for 4 months. But it looks exactly like it did we when checked it out online, so we're happy.

Except we don't have a microwave. Do you know what that's like? As I type this I'm trying to re-heat leftover curry in a pan on the stove.

However on the plus side we have every other appliance imaginable. We have 3 different crepe pans alone, and a cuisinart with several attachement that I won't ever use but like to brag about. Who knows, maybe we'll make soup and an immersion blender will come in handy.

Our first meal in paris.

Baguette for 0.85E and huge hunk of brie for 1.10E. With the dozen or so bakeries within a stone's throw from our place, we've had opportunity to taste several baguette varieties.

We've also been to the grocery store about 50 times already. Usually 2-3 times a day anyway, which is fine because we always seem to find ourselves at the grocery in every city we've been to. Things are strange here – the eggs aren't refrigerated at the store. Though as Nat pointed out they don't come out of the chicken cold either.

Also, no one eats peanut butter, they eat Nutella instead. I tried to find PB in the store and it was the only time someone was actually rude to me, though mostly he was just frustrated because they actually call it something else here.

Out and about

Our first meal at a restaurant

Movers moving furniture

Outdoor public toilets - FREE (je t'aime)

This guy was unhappy that our bus tour cut him off, so he cuts the bus off just to vent his road rage and share some choice words. How French!

For all you SATC fans, this is the bridge at the end where Big finally tells Carrie she's the one. Nat was very excited when we stumbled upon this landmark.

This is a "small" drink at McDonalds. Note: unlike at home, small *actually* means small here.

More photos on Nat's Facebook (open to the public) with fun comments

Photos on Flickr