[A] July 23: Porquerolles/Goodbyes

Porquerolles was the perfect cap to my Vanderbilt-in-France program. An island near the French Riviera accessible only by boat with long, sandy (the first so far) beaches that underline a crystal clear ocean, Porquerolles might as well not be real.

After a two hour bus ride and 20 minute ferry, we arrived at the island, where it was sprinkling a bit. Maite did not take kindly to this, and suggested that we all get a coffee while the weather cleared. the plan worked well, and after about 40 minutes we were headed first to get sandwiches, and then to the Plage de Notre Dame, the largest and most popular beach on the island. Nonetheless, probably due to the weather, there was plenty of open space at the beach, which extended for about a half of a mile.

The water was a perfect warm, as the temperature had not yet risen after the rain. There was also a consistent wind that made staying underwater all the more appealing. The water remained shallow over the sandy beach for about 50 yards- perfect for playing in the water. Jeff had brought a frisbee, which became a focal point for the rest of beach time. The waves were not large as we were facing the mainland, but were not negibile by way of the headwind. The scenery was blissful. I stayed in the calm sun for about 3 hours before going in search of food with Kate, Julie, and Essie. What I found were fresh shrimp cooked à la Provençal, one of my favorite regional dishes. After lunch we had a gelato and foudn the ferry. The ferry ride home was tumultuous, to say the least. At one point the boat of four hundred people was fully airborne on account of the rough surf. Some embraced it, some were duly terrified.

Back at home it began to sink in that the program in France was coming to an end. I had taken my two finals on Thursday, for 201W and 214 (or so stipulates my operating theory- my course names have never truly been concrete). I had packed. But I had not admitted that it was over. Now I know, as I sit in the apartment alone, Brian having left early this morning, that closing time is upon me. My mother, sister Hannah, and her boo Jarrett are en route from Paris to join me in Aix, from where we will enjoy a week in the southwest, after which I head home for a few days to procure a visa for my Italy program. My travels are far from over, but this chapter is. It was everything I had hoped for- a relaxing way to gain proficiency in a third romance language. And, of course, much more. It is firmly okay with me to think that I could one day return to live in Provence. Until then, I will try to appeciate the rest of the world.

On to the next,
Alex

[A] July 15-18: London

My trip to London was the first time I had ever traveled internationally alone, but more notably, the first time I had seen Pomai in over six weeks. A thursday night flight from Marseilles, repeatedly delayed, got me in very late to Stansted Airport, about an hour by train to the city. I had booked a hotel room, luckily, in Stansted but did not arrive there until 1:30 am. The next morning my request for a wake up call was casually denied, and I arrived in London at 10:15 instead of 8:45 as planned. Nonetheless, Pomai and I made good use of the day, heading to the National Gallery and Trafalgar Square, Picadilly, Covent Gardens, and exploring her campus area. As she went to class I checked into my room. Friday night we went out with a few of her friends to Indian food and two school-subsidized pubs. I have a newfound appreciation for Pimms.

Saturday Pomai and I went to My Old Dutch for pancakes and waffles before heading to Hyde Park, Kensington, and Notting Hill, where I showed her sights from my March trip to visit my Uncle Josh and Aunt Jacki. That night we went to dinner in Bloomsbury and a few more pubs with a few more friends. We both left London early Sunday morning, and I made it home with little fuss but much remorse for having spent only a weekend among many in London with Pomai. It is safe to say that I miss her. And, as is expected, she took the good pictures, so reference her post below for visuals.

From France,
Alex

[A] July 14- Avignon and Pont du Gard

Our last Wednesday excursion was to Avignon, home to the popes during the Babylonian captivity of the papacy in the greater part of the 14th century, and to Pont du Gard, a Roman aqueduct turned footbridge turned riverbank beach site.

Our first activity after the hour bus ride was to get on the Pont d'Avignon, a bridge made famous by a song that I assume was thought to be common knowledge. It speaks of dancing on the bridge. No explanation is given as to why one must dance on this stunted, half effective bridge between Papal and French territory. Nonetheless, there was had a short dance. More of a circular movement, really.
We then moved into the walled old town and toured the Papal Palace, more like a fort in its design. As it turns out, French monarchs do not take kindly to papal wealth on their Provençal borders. The primary issue in the construction of a new holiest pace on earth was the placement of yeomen turrets. And the money. The palace having been destroyed in every major and minor conflict in the last 600 years and rebuilt all the same, the original artwork of the Siennese masters was for the most part to be imagined. Indeed the palace is now presented as a series of concrete walls and a few elevated ceilings. There was, however, a modern art exhibit that was strangely and creatively placed throughout the castle. The elephant in the above picture is of the same artist. After our 1.5 hour tour, we found lunch at a guide-recommended restaurant. I had an omelette. Julie found two (2) sno-globes in Avignon! Victory.

We took the bus to the Pont du Gard, just outside of Nimes and, naturally, Gard. It was an impressive structure. The original aqueduct stretched fifty kilometers and maintained a slope of a perfect 1 centimeter in 500. That, to me, was an unfathomable feat. Out tour of the aqueduct, turned footbridge out of disrepair, took us to the original top level. We had great views of the small river valley and of the tempting beach area below. We were eager to cool off, and thus raced into the river as soon as given the opportunity. The area was very beautiful, and we were lucky to have another nice day in Provence. We took the bus home later than usual.
A

[P] London. July 16th - July 18th.

This past weekend was wonderful for several reasons. First and foremost, Alex came to visit me!  We went to the National Gallery, ate Indian food, walked through Hyde Park, and experienced some of the local nightlife. I was just happy to be around my favorite person.

Early Sunday morning I said goodbye to Alex and hello to a bus trip outside of London. Our first stop was Windsor Castle, the Queen's favorite weekend home, where we walked through the grounds and the State Rooms. Next was the city of Bath where we visited the Roman Baths, tried some of the famous water, and walked through the city to find lunch. Finally we stopped at Stonehenge. Luckily, the weather was gorgeous and we sat outside enjoying the view.  

[A] July 7-11: Nice/Chateau Vignelaure/Cassis

Nice- July 7
Our Wednesday excursion to Nice was another great break from the weekly class schedule. We left early enough to make the two hour drive worthwhile. The first stop we made was at the Chagall Museum, just outside of town. Chagall was a familiar name to me, as my mother had at one mal-appraised estate sale happened upon one of his unrecognized self-portraits, which now hangs in our kitchen. I appreciate the story-telling role of his colors as explained by our guide, who had colors of her own emanating from her stereotypically hairy underarms, the only unpleasant part of our excursion. Here is Chagall's "Abraham and the Three Angels," part of a twelve panel biblical series depicting Genesis and Exodus.

We then took our bus back down near the coast and were released to the wild for lunch. On a pedestrian street, the girls and I found a cheap, fantastic meal. I had roasted duck. I would give it a 9.1/10. We walked down to the beach, where we swam and played with the rocks that comprised it. I forgot to wait an hour before I swam. Suddenly exceedingly aware of the position of the food I had just eaten, I realized the merit of that adage. I re-entered the water after appropriate rest.

Later we got ice cream near where we ate lunch, and walked along the English-made boardwalk until it was time to reboard the bus for home. Nice was worth visiting, and probably revisiting. It is, however, the south beach of France. Take that as you may.

On Saturday, a portion of our group took a day trip to the country surrounding Aix for a tour of Chateau Vignelaure, a local vineyard. We had already been introduced to the owner of the vineyard through a series of oeneology (wine-tasting) sessions sponsored by Vanderbilt. This tour served as the capstone. The vineyard itself was very modern, and reflected the increasingly chemistry-driven nature of the modern wine industry. The last stage of the process was the placement of wine in huge metal casks, where they were monitored for temperature, acidity, and alcohol content. There were, however, rustic components, as with the wooden barrels shown above. I did not realize until then that the "oaky" flavor of many Chardonnay's and other pale wines came not from the grape but from the distiling container. That makes sense.

There was a hall that featured work by any recognized artist willing to trade a piece for a quantity of wine. It was surprisingly well decorated. We ascended out of the cellars to a tasting room, in which we were offered four wines: their "first" and "second" rosés, and the same of their reds. The Aixois countryside is not typically known for its red- 85% of all wine produced there is rosé- but Chateau Vignelaure is an exception, facilitated by its specific soil type. We were able to order wine at a discount (we had paid handily for the tour, of course).

We then walked through the gardens and out to the vineyard, where the owner showed us the grapes and explained the idea of "terrois," or taste as determined by land. It was a beautiful day, but hot à la Provence, and I was eager to sit for lunch. We were treated to three courses and wine at a local restaurant. Afterwards we returned to pick up our wine purchases and headed home.

On Sunday, Brian, Jen, Erica, Lizzie and I returned to Cassis, the beach town to where we had gone on our first excursion. I had a bit of a stomach ache and decided to stay in town along with Erica and Lizzie, while Jen and Brian explored the Calanques to the west of town. I had a bit of beach time and swimming before I retreated from the sun to a café where I read and sipped tea, and later ate ice cream. Cassis was as pleasant as ever, but much more crowded given that it is now high season for tourists from outside Europe. American English is now the official language of southern France. For some reason this annoys me, when in reality I am no longer judged for speaking only basic French. I still view the rest of the invaders as tourists much more so than myself.

Later,
Alex

[P] London. July 5th - July 11th.

My first week was spent alternating between being a tourist and trying to become localized. I have been trying to find a balance between being a good student and still experiencing the city. The class for my first session at LSE is Intermediate Macroeconomics. It is very difficult as it is much more math based than I am used to as well as only three weeks long. My midterm is on Wednesday. My main teacher is from China but studied at Penn. I have her class for three hours every weekday starting at ten o’clock. I then have a two-hour lunch break and have a one-hour class at three o’clock with a teacher from Guatemala. Luckily, I have still been able to have some fun with friends. We journeyed to the British Museum, only a few blocks away from out dorm, after class one day. It closed on us but we got to see the Rosetta stone, the Parthenon statues, and other treasures. We were also total tourists on Saturday and did a double-decker bus tour that came with a free river cruise. We stopped at a pub for lunch where I had fish and chips. That night we had a picnic for dinner in a nearby park.

 A friend and I went to mass this morning at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Although it was the eight o’clock session, we were surprised that there were not many people there. I also did not expect to be allowed to take communion but any Christian who was baptized in their church was welcome to so we did. It was a very serene experience and we plan to go back again another Sunday.

 These next few days will be full of studying but tonight is the World Cup finals game and I will be rooting for Spain. ¡Viva España!

-
 The beer trivia question was surprisingly not about beer, turns out it was just the prize. I actually was not even trying to win. I just like to guess things. 

Q: What was this used for?

 A: It was a storage unit for coal!

[P] London and Notting Hill. July 2nd – July 4th.

           I arrived in London with a group of newly befriended, fellow students and minimum jetlag. We stayed in a hotel in Notting Hill for the weekend where we had orientation, explored the area, and enjoyed the selections of nearby pubs. My first day I enjoyed some delicious toffee and date pudding and my favorite World Cup game so far – Ghana vs. Uruguay. 

The next day we took the underground to central London. On our walking tour I won a pint of beer for being the first to guess the answer to the Beer Trivia question… The tour ended at the theater where we watched the play 39 Steps, adapted from the Hitchcock film. Afterwards I ate dinner with a few girls and enjoyed the crowds that Gay Pride had brought to town.  Later that night we returned to Notting Hill and met the gang at a pub. At midnight we celebrated the 4^th of July and then returned to the hotel as the pubs close around 11. We discovered that the hotel basement turns into a club and karaoke bar on the weekend. There was also a Filipino birthday party that had the place full, including a woman who wanted to hit on and dance with me.

We headed back to central London on Sunday to move into our rooms and register at the London School of Economics. I live a short walk from school in a single door room. I share a nook offshoot from the hall with four other students equipped with a common (but single) shower, water closet, and kitchen. I’ve only met two of my neighbors – a girl from Portugal and a boy from Greece. That night we had pizzas for dinner and then returned to our residence for a welcome party in the bar we handily have downstairs. LSE also boasts several other cafes and bars on campus – all subsidized to be more affordable. (Disclaimer: I do not take advantage of all the opportunities to drink.) I then headed to bed to be ready for class the next morning.

London is a wonderful city. It has beautiful buildings with plenty of plants and parks, is easy to get around, and is extremely diverse. On the plane we were told that it has the most spoken languages of any city and later an Englishman told me that 2/3rds of Londoners are foreign. I love being around so many types of people and hearing different languages. However, I am also noticing a lot of differences including a lack of air conditioning, water fountains, plumbing, and customer service.

[A] Marseilles: July 2

About half of us left on the 8:30 bus for our excursion to Marseilles, about 35 minutes away by bus. We walked down from the bus station to the port, where we found the sailing company that was going to take us out in two groups of seven. After about 30 minutes of lounge time, we were ready to go sail around the bay. Our actual workload was minimal, but if consequential would have consisted of pulling ropes at certain times and releasing others in unison. In reality our skipper gave us very little creative license, which made for a nice relaxing time. I was wearing my boat shirt, that is to say my white button down, so I felt nonetheless official. The heat hadn't quite come to bless the air yet, so it was comfortable, breezy, and full of spectacle. We sailed up towards the Chateau d'If,

a fortified prison that housed many real criminals (sort of a French Alcatraz) and one important fictional misconvict, Alexandre Dumas' Count of Monte Cristo, purported to have escaped by feigning death. No real escapes were ever recorded. We sailed around the chateau, and towards a small cove of Marseilles where we parked and went for a swim for about 30 minutes. On the way back we simply motored.

Back at the dock we met up briefly with the rest of the group before finding lunch, and I had a notably good sandwich with notably bad service. We met or half of the group again and walked to the tram station, which we would take up the mountain to Notre Dame de la Garde, visible as the peak of Marseilles in all pictures of the coastline.

The church is very representative of the culture of Marseilles, not only as its icon, its title of "la bonne mère," or its placement, but also of its interior decorating. From the ceiling hang strings of boats, put in place as blessings on the sailors of the port. The same can be done for members of any profession there. After a brief rest in the shade, we took the tram back down the mountain and met the group who had just finished sailing. We went then to le Bar de la Marine, the oldest of the port, for a drink, a coke for me, on Vanderbilt. We watched the second half of the Bresil - Pays Bas game. Afterwards we took the metro back up the hill to the bus station and returned home. Marseilles treated me well.

Alex