Hey, we said goodbye.

On Bastille Day, July 14, a truck drove into a crowd of spectators in Nice, France, killing around 80 people. On that same day, 686 kilometers (426 miles) away in Paris, we were slowly wrapping up our three-week long journey abroad. Eating as many crepes and macaroons as we could. Making plans to meet up with those friends that kept us grounded when we couldn't remember how to say "water" in French. Reveling in the festivities of the holiday as if the holiday was our own. Trying, and maybe failing, to pack away all those dirty clothes and memories into one single suitcase.

There is no denying that with this trip came a lot of life lessons. Not only were we sent out into a city to live on our own (with a little help from our teachers), but we were sent into a city halfway across the world. Different language. Different culture. Different everything. I learned that nothing, none of my customs or thought processes or the words of my language, is concrete. I may like a fast life style and be against smoking, but that teenage girl from Paris that I passed on the street may have a different opinion. I learned to revel in life. It's not enough to take a picture. You have to experience the world around you outside of a tiny handheld screen. I learned that art is everywhere and that history is everywhere and that even beauty is everywhere if you look closely enough. 

But, most importantly, I learned that the world is small. Not only because I ran into a friend randomly in a city halfway across the world from home with a population of 2.244 million people. I learned that the world is small because there were hundreds of languages waiting right outside our door. I learned that the world is small because we visited museums with thousands of years of history from hundreds of different countries. I learned that the world is small because although that girl from Paris prefers a slower lifestyle and likes smoking, she still probably has some of the same struggles that I face on a daily basis. I learned that the world is small because 686 kilometers away from where I was, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the fireworks shooting off the Eiffel Tower, around 80 families were soon to find out they had lost their loved ones on a night when they were supposed to be celebrating. I learned that the world is small because no matter how much we try to separate ourselves from the problems of the world, they're never too far away, whether they are 686 kilometers away while we're abroad or a few cities over from our hometown or maybe even in our own backyard. The world is a small place, and we are all connected no matter how separate we may seem. 

I truly enjoyed my time in Paris, and it is a trip that I will never forget. I don't mention the tragedy in Nice as a discouragement for those looking to go abroad. Because I recommend traveling 100%. It's an experience that can change you. I mention the tragedy in Nice because I couldn't wrap up my celebration of French culture and history and art without paying respect to a city whose own celebration was so abruptly cut short. 

Thank you for taking this journey with me. Now go out there and find your next journey. In the meantime, I'll be out there somewhere finding mine. 

Au revoir. M

Hey, I graffiti'd a wall.

First of all, this day wasn't titled "Graffiti Day." It was titled "Street Art Day." Because we weren't seeking out graffiti and making graffiti. It was all street art. And it was awesome. This was many of my classmates' favorite day on our journey, so here's a whole bunch of appreciation pictures for all of the street art:

In addition to seeking out street art in the city and learning about the different types, such as stickers and stencils and tags and so on, we also had the chance to experience street art first hand by making some of our own. While the design was Jake's, and we did add the individual colors to our street art, it was pretty much the work of our teacher. Although we like to tell people that we did it all by ourselves. 

Until next time and au revoir. M

Hey, I ate more ice cream.

Pablo Picasso Museum. Burgers. A French play. Ice cream. That can pretty much sum up this day on our trip. While I absolutely loved the unique artwork and enticing architecture of the Picasso Museum and the hilarity of the French play we saw in one of the tiniest theaters in Paris, the food definitely took the cake today.

Being the Americans that we are, we stopped at the Burger Joint after visiting the Picasso Museum and had some truly amazing burgers. Also, after visiting the theater, we stopped by Amorino as a class for some ice cream. Even more surprising than the rose shape of the ice cream was how truly amazing the ice cream tasted.

That's about all that I have for this day.

Until next time and au revoir. M

Hey, I did nothing.

In reality, the title of this post doesn't really do justice to this day. It was a day off, yes, and I did a whole lot less than I usually do during a day in Paris. But I still did stuff, stuff worth blogging about.

For a few hours, I walked down to the old Roman arena that we had visited during one of our first days here. I sat, ate, and wrote. It was so quiet, save for a small class on the other side of the arena and some children playing some soccer down below. The air was crisp and it was just a nice day overall. I even wrote a short story inspired by the arena itself...as well as a whole bunch of blog posts.

Later, I visited the Eiffel Tower with Alexis and Vanessa for a few more pictures. The tower was still beautiful, but I couldn't help but gawk at the remnants left from the Euro Cup finals the night before. Burned trash. Burned motorcycles. Smashed windows. You just don't see too much of that in a quiet small town. 

So that's pretty much the day in a nut shell. We may not have walked a whole bunch of miles or visited a whole bunch of historical places, but we had the chance to feel like real Parisians, like we actually lived in Paris. (Not bragging, but I was asked for directions a few times. I'm practically a local.) 

Until next time and au revoir. M

Hey, I met Hemingway.

Okay, so perhaps I didn't exactly meet Hemingway. But close enough. Instead, we completed our Hemingway Hunt, which involved visiting various destinations in Paris mentioned in Ernest Hemingway's memoir A Moveable Feast. In essence, we were attempting to walk in the footsteps of Hemingway.

Stop #1: First, we visited the site of Cafe des Amateurs, which was once located on modern day Place de la Contrescarpe. Today the square is filled with various shops, cafes, and, of course, a bunch of people. Like many other squares in Paris, one couldn't help but pause to marvel at the wonderful smell of fresh bread or a cooked meal. We were also instructed to take a picture of where we believed the Cafe des Amateur once stood. I photographed the following because I thought it looked rather old. It also seemed to go along with Hemingway's description of being located in the cesspool of Rue Mouffetard.

Stop #2: Next to the place where Hemingway once lived: 74 Rue du Cardinal Lemoine.

Stop #3: Right around the corner from Hemingway's old apartment was the former hotel where Hemingway once rented a rooftop room to write. We were asked to photograph the window we thought that perhaps housed Hemingway, but I sadly failed to pick a rooftop one. But it's fine.

The Walk A: The walk to our next stop included beautiful sites mentioned in Hemingway's book such as the Lycee Henri Quatre, the church of Sainte-Etienne-du-Mont, the Place du Pantheon, the Boulevard St. Michel, the Boulevard St. Germain, and the Place St. Michel.

Stop #4: Our next stop involved the book stalls, also known as bouquinistes, located along the Seine. Hemingway mentioned some American books that he had purchased cheaply from the book stalls that ran along the river.

Stop #5: After the book stalls, we visited a book shop, otherwise known as Shakespeare & Company. While Lexington, Ky. features a restaurant by the same name, Paris's Shakespeare & Company hosts shelves and shelves of books (many in English), as well as Tumbleweeds, who are people who stay above the shop and who must read a book a day, work for two hours a day, and must be writing their own works. While this bookstore was established back in the 1960's, we also visited the original owned by Hemingway's friend Sylvia Beach to get the full effect.

The site of the original Shakespeare & Company. 

Stop #6: This next stop is in fact many stops. The site where Hemingway's friends Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas used to live. The path that led from the Place de l'Observatoire to the the Musee du Luxembourg to the Rue de Vaugirard to Rue Ferou to Place St. Sulpice to St. Sulpice's square and chapel and fountain. It was all a truly beautiful walk.

The residence of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas.

Musee du Luxembourg.

Place de l'Observatoire.

Place St. Sulpice's fountain with four statues of bishops.

Place St. Sulpice's church.

Stop #7: Brasserie Lipp. According to Hemingway in his memoir, he ordered a big glass of beer, potato salad, and sausage with a special mustard sauce while eating here. He of course had bread with his meal, as we have had multiple times during our stay here.

Stops #8 and 9: Cafe de Flore and Deux Magots: two cafes that Hemingway frequented to eat and to write.

Stop #10: Michaud's, one of Hemingway's favorite restaurants. Although this restaurant is now known as Les Comptoir des Saints Peres, it still maintains its charm. The writer once visited the old restaurant with his wife, Hadley, according to the book.

Stop #11: Next we moved along to the Hotel d'Angleterre, where Hemingway and his wife stayed when they first arrived in Paris. We also stepped inside to take a look at the courtyard, which was quite beautiful.

Stop #12: 22 Rue Jacob, where Natalie Barney, a woman who held "salons" for writers and artists, once lived.

Conclusion: While I didn't much understand this book before visiting Paris, I look back through it now and see the Paris that I have seen over the past few weeks come to life. The streets. The cafes. The river. It's a vivid picture. The entire book reminisces on Hemingway's line in the first chapter, "You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil." All of these streets and people, they are memories that are now ours to keep and share. As we walk down the street near our dorm, that is our street, that is our little bit of Paris that we hope to one day share with our friends and our family. And the pen and pencil, any means of documenting our own piece of Paris, those means own us.

Besides utter nostalgia, one can't help but find a little humor in the book. Such as Hemingway's trip to Lyons with F. Scott Fitzgerald. By using humor, Hemingway portrays a deeper friendship and also makes up for whatever faults he happens to be portraying in others throughout A Moveable Feast.

What does A Moveable Feast mean, anyway? I think this goes back to the quote I mentioned above. Paris itself, life itself, is a moveable feast, constantly taking in new ideas and new memories.  That's the perfect description of what we have experienced thus far on our trip. A moveable feast.

Hey, I didn't get lost.

Paris Solo Day! You know what that means? That means we had to go out into Paris...solo. We were each assigned our own place to visit for the day before meeting back up for a boat ride in the evening. Called off as if by Hunger Games districts, I was the last student to be sent to my destination: the Musee d'Rodin.

Named after the sculptor Auguste Rodin, the Musee d'Rodin featured a variety of sculptures, mainly from Rodin himself, as well as a few paintings from greats such as Van Gogh and Monet. The grounds also featured a garden which I particularly enjoyed. I liked Rodin's sculptures because of the emotions portrayed through the human body, but I liked the gardens because I could just sit, and, well, do nothing.

I should also note that before visiting the museum I ate at a cafe. By myself. And did nothing but eat. I didn't look at my phone or read or write or anything. I just sat there. It was one of the most difficult things I've ever made myself do.

After our solo day, we met back up at Pont Neuf to enjoy some delicious bread, cheese, and creme brulee provided by Herman and Nancy before taking a boat ride along the Seine. It was definitely a hot ride, but the beautiful view was worth it, and we snapped few more pictures of the Eiffel Tower along the way.

Until next time and au revoir. M

Hey, I saw a chandelier.

This day was one of our off days, so sadly I don't have much to tell you about the day as a whole. However, our excursion in the evening should do. We visited none other than the Paris Opera, and the chandelier was none other than the one that served as inspiration for Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of Opera. Being the huge "Phan" that I am, I was practically jumping up and down as we passed through the halls of the opera.

While we didn't witness an opera at the opera, we did get to see a contemporary ballet choreographed by the famous William Forsythe. I didn't understand parts of the dances, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. It was pretty entertaining to see the dancers incorporate more modern styles of dance into their routines as well.

That's about it for opera day.

Until next time and au revoir. M