Every time i stagger back to my room at CIEP, inevitably taking the very
slow elevator because my feet are aching, i come back to write my journal. The
thing is, every single time by the end of the day i have gone through at least
100 different emotions and thought 100 different thoughts that are worthy of
putting in my journal. I'm trying to take as many photos as possible to jog my
memory, but unfortunately it means i'm going to forget things - but not to
worry, i shall tell you all when i remember :P
My first comment is not in chronological order: it's a happy remark. Every
time that i catch the metro & bus by myself a guy hits on me. i LOVE
french men! they all seem to think i'm gorgeous... and no, bess, it's not
just the seedy ones who hit on me. Maybe the french just like hitting on any
girl who is alone? Anyway, it's a nice confidence boost, especially when they
start talking to me in french and don't guess i'm a foreigner. I've been
unfortunate enough to label myself an english-speaker (and thus bad) whenever i
order a diet coke at a restaurant, or don't know how to work an EFTPOS machine.
Then they'll either give me greasies as i stumble over their words or just
speak in english.
Anyway, today's convo went come ca:
"Tu es belle, non?"
"Mais oui!" (i laughed and kept walking
"Au revoir!"
"Au revoir"
Bess, translate for mum to assure her it's not sleazy. I never feel
threatened here at all. I was talking to ana about this and she agreed - i
honestly feel i have the best deal here in Paris out of all the foreigners. The two main
languages in france
are french and english. I can perfectly understand french - my aural skills
have improved greatly! - and i can ask questions and get my point across well.
I can read everything fluently - so i can't get lost, or disobey a sign, or
anything like that, because i understand all of their printed words! It's
seriously the best... i imagine being in a city where you don't speak the
language is stressful, or at least slightly nerve-wracking. I go on public
transport with complete confidence - i know exactly what the signs are saying,
and if i do get lost (which is unlikely) i can ask at information, and i
can understand them - i'm not dependent on the chance that they all speak
english! how good is that?
And yes, mum, i have been catching public transport by myself. At the end of
each day in paris,
sylvia says 'ok, you can either go home with me or you can do whatever you
want, as long as you're home by the class tonight.' Yesterday, the others
stopped over at the supermarket (there's one right next to the Sevres Metro
Station) - i was feeling a bit travel sick and was so tired i caught the bus
from the station to CIEP by myself instead of waiting. I forgot the number of
the bus we're meant to catch - no problems, i read the map and instructions.
Today, me, emma, jessie and amanda went back to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa
and Greek/Roman collections - Amanda went home early, Emma wanted to stay for
longer, and Jessie went on the first train with me but i got off to catch the
Pont De Sevres line at station Franklin D Roosevelt to go home while she
continued on that line to go to La Fayette (like David Jones or Myer). It's
great! and i don't feel unsafe at all - the french, as long as i don't open my
mouth, think i'm french, it's all very casual, there are heaps of people and
it's comfortable. But don't worry too much mum - i always keep my bag very
close to me, and my mobile in my hand. It is safe. I promise you.
ok. so what happened today?
- Sylvia
Abandoning me & nan at CIEP
- Le Louvre
- Lunch
- walls of Paris
- Le Louvre
- Supermarket
- Home
- Class
- Later: a
Class
How thorough am i!
Ok, so in the morning at breakfast (7.30) Sylvia announced that she wanted
us at reception at 8am, not the planned 8.30. We had NO time for breakfast. So
i rushed around - called mum briefly on Skype - and got down there in time.
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Sylvia wasn't there, and i realised that i'd
forgotten to put the sign on my door asking the maid not to clean (i really
don't think it's necessary to get new bedsheets and towels every day) so since
Sylvia wasn't there yet i rushed up to change my sign. I met an up there (she
was running VERY late) but by the time we got down there they had all gone! we
rushed out of CIEP, presuming they'd left without us. When we got to the bustop
we were unsure - surely they couldn't have been so far ahead of us that they
also got a bus before us? Maybe they were just in another room at CIEP? We
messaged and tried to call Sylvia - but no answer, so we decided to wait at the
bus stop until given further instructions - they could be looking for us!
Sylvia replied about 20 minutes later telling us to meet her at the Accueil de
Groupes (where groups meet) at the Louvre. An n i caught the bus, then the metro,
got off at the right stop - yey. Anyway, at the Louvre metro station (Palais
Royal - Musée de Louvre) there are about 5 exits from the train up to the
ground level. An and i followed everyone else up - it took you right outside
the Louvre. Thing is, apparently there was one that took you right inside the
Louvre. SYLVIA DID NOT TELL US THIS. Anyway, the guard refused to let us in the
group entrance because we didn't have any documentation, and they don't keep
records of which group has gone in. Again an and i wonder - this is the only
group entrance we can find, and the guard doesn't remember anyone named Sylvia
or any Australians coming in. Sylvia didn't say in her message that they were
ahead of us - maybe we should wait? Stuck, because we didn't want to go through
the individual entrance and pay exorbitant amounts to go in the Louvre, an and
i waiting about 30 mins. I was ropeable - we are NEW in paris - this is our third day! What kind of
irresponsible idiot would leave without her students, and then not contact us!
for the 30 minutes we waited an and i kept on trying to call her - she never
answered her phone. Again, what kind of dickhead... she KNEW we weren't there.
I found out later several people mentioned we were missing. Why didn't she even
call us? Ridiculous.
Anyway, eventually Sylvia answered her phone, and an is right - she was
perfectly nice about it. She didn't blame us for being late - although i
couldn't help convey in my tone of shaking anger that she could have at least
tried to contact her missing students. grrrr!!!
So, the Louvre.. Well, once I’m a billionaire, I am going to buy it. OH MY
F*CKING GOD! I found out later it was the main Palace of most of the French
kings... it is so huge, so elaborate, the ceilings are incredibly high, and a
lot of the original paintings on the ceiling and decorations are still there.
There are so many wings and sections.. originally only one part of the Louvre
was a museum (Napoleon temporarily named it "La musée de Napoleon")
but now the whole thing is a museum... wow.
We did two rooms absolutely thoroughly. They were from the 19th Century -
paintings about the main revolutions they had, paintings commissioned by Napo 1 (as I have come to call Napoleon 1) etc. Some of
them we have studied in Art History - very cool to see them in real life, but
again Sylvia's method of teaching is flawed - more on that later.
I took as many photos of myself in front of paintings – I did take some of
paintings, but in all reality the photos you can buy are much better – photos are
better when they show that I saw this painting in real life!
We stopped then for a café at one of the maybe 10 different cafés in the
Louvre.. there are so many! I had strawberry juice.. yes there is such a thing,
and I love it.
After that, we went to Les Appartements de Napoleon III. The name is
deceiving – they’re not his apartments. His half-brother le Duc actually lived
in them – but Napo III hosted many events in them. Some are in the style of Napo I – amazing. I took heaps of photos but then they
can’t explain it.. I bought a book on the apartments for 10 euro. You see, like
I said before, the Louvre was a castle. By the time of Napo III, most of it was
a museum, but that section was still used by the aristocracy – and Napo III
gave it to his half-brother to live in. It is preserved exactly how it was in those times. I am completely in love, and
want to be the Duc’s wife (he was a lecherous, faithless adulterer so maybe I’ll
have to settle for mistress). The majesty of the rooms, the space, the
decorations, the ridiculously high ceilings… wow. There was also a throne with
an “N” on it. That stands of Nicola – I’m meant to sit on the throne. Be
Emperor of France.
After that (without seeing anything
other than those two sections) we went for lunch. I got a yummy mini-baguette
with chicken and salad (as well as my strawberry water – see below). Then we
caught the Metro to the Rue de Rivoli to see where Napo III made a boulevard by
moving the Egyptian-theme fountain of Napo I across the road, and talking about
the water problems in France
(they polluted the Seine so badly it was worse
than the Yarra river… and it was their only source of water!). Then we went to
La Porte de Saint-Denis and it’s pair. Once upon a time, Paris had walls around it to enable it to
fight off any invading armies (Louis XIV). Eventually they were dismantled –
the king who dismantled them (forgot his name) left the two stone gates that
enabled access into the city in place. I’ve forgotten the name of the Quartier,
but it was interesting just for another side of Paris.
You see, Sylvia wanted to show us the first ever covered-shopping area in Paris. It was la rue de
la coeur, in the same quartier as the big gates, but Sylvia got a bit lost getting
there. Always brings faith that your teacher who goes to Paris twice every year gets lost. Anyway, a
drunken French guy starts singing and swearing at us – in French. Ana starts
pissing herself laughing at him – so do a few others. He gets more angry –
tells us all to fuck off, gives us the finger etc. He wouldn’t have caused us
any harm – there were 23 of us, and only 1 of him – but still, interesting.
The streets in the quartier are so tiny and narrow… they wind, and don’t go
straight at all. You can tell that it was a section that was neglected by the
city planners who made the Parisian streets more sensible in the 19th
century. Those streets truly developed by chance.
So once we’d seen la rue de la coeur, Sylvia said “go where you want” –
Amanda, Jessie, Emma and I wanted to go back to the Louvre – we had access all
day because of our group ticket, and didn’t want to have to pay to come back
another day. On the way to the metro we walked down a very “special” street – seven prostitutes, just leaning against
the walls of the shops. Previously I’d thought I like this area – all the shops
were like the cheap ones at highpoint – cheap clothes in Paris, yey! The actual buildings and the like
aren’t too dirty, and the winding cobbled streets are quite cute. It started
off with an old woman with high-ish, old jeans and a crop-top, to more old
women getting progressively skankier (with the exception of one that was
dressed really classy) and the end one – WHOA. She wasn’t wearing a top per se…
she was wearing fish nets over her DD sized boobs. An n I agreed – it’s so sad
that these people have to resort to selling their bodies for money. At that
age, the argument for “freedom of choice to be a prostitute” falls flat on its
back.
Then Amanda, Jess, Emma and I went to the Louvre again. We saw the Mona Lisa
– what a disappointment! It’s quite funny – it’s on a huge wall, and this tiny little painting with heaps of tourists
surrounding it and cameras flashing, major security… in comparison with the
other paintings on the other walls, it really didn’t seem that important. But
we saw it – and I got a photo. We then went to the Graeco-Roman section – a lot
of pots and broken tiny artefacts, some cool statues, and also the Venus de
Milo (photo opp!).
Then we went home, and I caught the metro, bought some more strawberry water
(again, see below), guy hit on me, and here I am, in my room, eating Wether’s Originals.
General Comments:
The alchohol here is wonderful. Not the wine or champagne – just as
expensive, if not more, than in Australia.
But the spirits are DIRT CHEAP! Whoo! An and I bought a fruit-flavoured liquor
for 9 euro! Yes! There was also vodka for 6 euro… you get my drift. They have
the midest range of flaours and types, also a HUGE range of weird soft drink
flavours.. very nice. But that’s not the best thing about French drinks. You
see, the water here tastes like shit – filtered water, bottled water, water
from the tap – all very disgusting (Jessie and an reckon it’s got too much
chlorine – I’m not sure, all I know is I can’t drink it). But then I need to
drink a lot of water – I get dehydrated easily. Last night, I tried this stuff
called “Volvic Fraise” – strawberry flavoured
water. I am addicted. I cannot live without my Volvic. I have 3 1L bottles
in my room at the moment. They will be gone by tomorrow night. Three of them
only cost 1.90 euro as well! Heaven on earth. I’m going to miss Paris just for
the Volvic, if not anything else.
I really think instead of trying to teach us detailed history lessons on
site (where it is noisy, full of people, a lot of traffic etc) Sylvia should
give us a history lesson the night before we go out, so then when we go out she
can just remind us – this is the painting depicting this story – and that way
we can really appreciate the place we’re at – for example, she didn’t even show
us the Mona Lisa! It’s very much in – show the stuff relevant to the course –
out with her, which really doesn’t allow you to absorb the character of the
place
Jed:
Mum, dad and bess: you need to send me photos of jed. I will die otherwise. Also please remember to book him a vaccine appointment - he needs it sometime this weekend. It will cost 37.5, and call Maribyrnong vet to make an appointment: 9318 3349
Post Scriptum:
Some girls who were with Sylvia at the time we were messaging her said she ignored our messages.
