After completing my first six weeks of work after the christmas holidays, it was time for a break. And by break I don't mean coffee break. Don't worry, we already have five of those a day. Break in this context means two weeks. That's right. Two weeks with no work, no obligations, no stress. But vacation isn't all about rainbows and lollipops. There's some serious hard work that goes into planning a 15-day trip. For to spend one day of my freedom dawdling around the tiny town of Thouars would seem to be a waste. Naturally, I planned this trip the easy way: decide where you're going to go, how you're going to get there, and let everything else fall into place. Little did I consider the prospect that I may embark my first day on a 13 hour voyage to Chambery, a friendly student town in the Swiss Alps, for a weekend of skiing with no place to sleep. Given my luck, the only hostel was full, and my next option was a 50€ a night hotel room which would attempt to ruin my every sense of budgetary control I was determined to maintain. Luckily, it pays to know people, and an American acquaintance I had met three months back came through in the last minute and offered me a couch for the duration of my stay. Bumming made easy, or so it seemed.
The skiing itself was phenomenal. With above average snowfalls this ear, fresh powder was in abundance and the fear of avalanche became a viable excuse for sticking to the trails while other more experienced skiers of our group managed to conquer more advanced territory.
Strasbourg (February 18-20)
Things were a little bit more smooth traveling to my second destination: Strasbourg. Aside from the $18 Big Mac Combo that I unknowingly purchased in Switzerland, and the Parisian lady next to me who couldn't stop telling me how much she hated Nancy (the third destination of my trip), the travel was smooth and I was feeling refreshed upon arriving in the part of France for the first time. As it turns out, France's northeast corner, popularly known as the Alsace-Lorraine territory once occupied by Germany, has more to offer than pretty women and beautiful architecture. The flammkuchen, a pizzaesque, tomotasauceless, creme fraiche based tarte covered with the most delicious ingredients you can imagine, was every bit as good as advertised and frankly I may have to open up a Flams next door to dominoes back in the US. We would do quite well.
Nancy (February 20-22)
Nancy was bound to be a special trip. Not only because I was visiting the city where the only other w&l alum who, to my knowledge, has completed the same program as me resided but also because I would be hosted by a group of three girls, which always produces an interesting story.
Quiche, beer, and gold. Three things you should not miss if in Nancy. First, this should go without saying, but Quiche Lorraine is 1000 times better in Lorraine. Assuming you dine in a local specialty restaurant like i did, prepare to be amazed. Second, the beer here, as in many parts of France, may not get exported but that does not mean anything with regards to the quality: a must experience for any excuse of a brew lover. Finally, the gold-painted city center makes for one of the most genuinely beautiful displays of color and architecture in all of France.
Paris (February 22-25)
They say that even while on an extended vacation it's good to have a home base: not necessarily where you live but where someone you know well lives, where you can relax for at least a couple of days and enjoy life without having to worry about travel, tourism, and other nonsense. Actually, I don't know who said that, but I say that and thus I am thankful that my friend Freddie Akers was free to host me and celebrate our shared birthday during the weekend in Paris. For the "big" dinner, we stumbled a true commodity around these parts: hibachi. But granted, it was Paris hibachi and its simply not the french way to dress up the birthday boy with s sumo hat and have the entire staff sing him happy birthday in hardly coherent Japanese while the other restaurateurs look on in half amused, half annoyed. In Paris, the chef merely cooked us our food, trying desperately not to mess up as he attempted chapters 2&3 in the hibachi trick book, and the server gave us our drinks until she thought we were too drunk to realize she had overcharged us (little did she know!). But the atmosphere did succeed, as always, at bringing us closer to total strangers as we bond over the silliness that is Japanese fine dining. The old, retired ladies next to us invited us to their regular spot, a Cuban bar across the street, where, in ordinary Paris fashion, we could pay 2 euro each to hang our coats, 12 more for drinks (although Havana rum could be a nice import to the states someday) and only then were we free to salsa dance the night away in their caves.
Comme d'habitude, we did as usually, staying out until 4, waking up at noon and wondering what to do with the next day. As such, Paris came and went, but I must admit, no matter how old we get, the city of lights never ages a day.
Reims/Epernay (February 25-26)
I entered Champagne with two purposes in mind: 1. Find out something about my family's origins in the region 2. Pop bottles on my birthday. The first fruition seemed bleak after calling the Maison Gosset who kindly informed me that they only offered tours upon reservation to large groups of professionals and that I best not bother them mid week with my tourist nonsense. Well as it turns out, a little name dropping and a speck of persuasion go a long way in getting the feet of the head-exporter on the path toward a full private tour and tasting. In other words, I totally lucked out and am grateful for the opportunity to tour and taste the oldest wine producer in all of Champagne.
What better way to follow up a superb tasting than with a visit to the local bar?only, they do things differently here. Literally imagine a bar that sells nothing but, yup, you guessed it, champagne. It almost doesn't seem fair to term it a bar. Perhaps rather champagneraunt or champagnerie would be more indicative of the class that dwells within. Just imagine, a menu includes tastings of 6 different specially chosen champagnes for 18€. Not bad considering this is top class liquid they're serving. As one might expect at 4 pm on a Monday afternoon, I was the only one ready to pop bottles that afternoon. But, the intriguing server and I sparked the afternoon into one of the nicest bar experiences of the trip. Add this to the list of things to do if you ever find yourself bored on a weekday afternoon in champagne.
Oxford (February 26-March 2)
W&L how I've missed you('re people). Driven by part curiosity, part yearning for a mini-alumni reunion, I headed to Oxford to see what all the fuss was about. And it turns out, the fuss is well-warranted. Little did I realize how much our the beautiful architecture and intricate design of American college campuses originally attempted to match the standard set by our English predecessors. I always remember back when I was in the 8th grade, I went to a football game at Auburn University in Alabama, and as I was sitting around a tailgate with men three times my age drinking beer and throwing the pig-skin, one of them looked around, turned to me and said, "kid, if this place doesn't inspire you to study hard in school, I don't know what will." At the time, it seemed like a lot to shoot for, attending a grand university in the American south. But now I'd love to come across that same man again and show him pictures of my trip Oxford. Because truly, without the slightest hint of a doubt, anyone should want to study their ass off to attend such a fine institution.
London (February 28
"London's great, but the food, aw, the food is awful." My perceptions of Big Ben's resting place were not pepped up to gold and glory from an early age as some Americans might be (mis)led to believe. Actually, the food might have been my second favorite part about my day long visit to London. The moment I exited the bus, I wasn't thinking about where I was or what museum I would visit first. I was eyeing the Chipotle on. The street corner, where I would chow down on my first American burrito in far too long. After embarking my way through the city on foot, I passed countless reasonably-priced organic restaurants, the quality of which I'm sure we have only begun to much back in the states.
But my friends, the one thing Britain does better than anyone else is their museums. Imagine some of the finest collections in the world at your fingertips and you can spend as much or as little time as you like counting the brush strokes on Claude Monet's fourth painting of the same garden you conveniently overlooked the 5£ requested donation box and didn't pay a penny for entry.
Home
It's been an excellent two weeks but now it's time to get back to work, for three days of class lie between me and my next break. Don't worry, this time break means 4-day weekend because my parents have come to visit. I'll have to go another few weeks before the two-week span begins.
That bar in Champagne sounds amazing
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