Photos.

So I decided to delete the photos I had on facebook. I guess they already own the rights to them, even if I deleted them, not sure how it works. In any case, I've posted some of my favorites already and here come some more. If you really care that much and want to see every single shot I've taken in the past 3 months, give me a call and we'll make a slideshow date.

Here they come!

Barcelona.

I promise the pictures are coming! I just recently uploaded them to my computer and I was trying to post some last night, but for some reason it didn't work. Now, I am at work, freezing my butt off, without my external hard drive. So no pictures for the time being. But they will be here soon!!!

My plan was to write an entry once I week now that I'm home, but it hasn't seemed to work out that way.

First of all, I would like to say, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULIE!!! (today is the day) I love you.

I'm quite bored, there is nothing to do at my job. I mean, I really like the other girls and all the people, but still.

Plus I'm sick! We're in this showroom aallll week together from 9am to 6pm, with the AC blasting re-circulated air... yumm... germs.

But still, I shouldn't be complaining. I'm having fun, and I'm making money trying on shoes for people. And they feed us! Everyday we get fruit salad and pastries in the am and then we get this huge array of catered food. Yummm.

Ah, Italia.

Venice.

I don't know how I managed to do so much in just 2 days and with very little sleep.
I arrived around 10am. Got my luggage, went to the ticket counter to figure out which bus to take, bought a ticket and boarded the bus without any further trouble. At Piazzale Roma, the main bus terminal, I got off and headed in the direction of the hostel I had booked a room at. I had written down instructions and was surprised (and relieved) at how easily I found it. I can tell you, I wouldn't want to run around Venice in the heat, dragging a suitcase up and down the stairs for all the little bridges that link the city together.
I checked in, went to my room, took a shower, took a few deep breaths and headed out to explore the city. I walked, and walked, and walked. Now, I'm a New Yorker and I know I can walk a lot. But boy was I exhausted at the end of the day. I must have walked by Rialto 4 times, at the least. I went to Piazza San Marco, spent several hours in Palazzo Ducale, and miandered along countless canals and side streets. What a gorgeous city!
It's amazing. So different from what I'm used to. Do you realize that there is no trafic in Venice? At all. Not even a single bicycle. You walk or take a boat. Simple as that. It's incredible!

Day two: Murano. Saw them blow glass. Even managed to flirt my way into using their bathroom so I wouldn't have to pay. Bought a pair of beautiful earrings on sale. One of the very few purchases I've made on this trip. Walked around Murano for a while, sat by the main canal and ate some gelato. Went to the Glass Museum and to two churches before returning to the city. I got off about half-way along the ride home and went into yet another church before pointing my feet in the direction the th Bienale. I thought I would manage to see both of the main exhibit sites in one day, but it was impossible. By the time I had walked through the entire first building, I could hardly feel my legs anymore. I had to go home.
Back at the hostel, I chilled out for a while, sat on the windowsill, my newfound favorite spot to look out over the bustling streets below. After a while, I worked up the energy to go to a pizzeria a few minutes away. I had to eat something. I bought a slice and sat down by one of the small canals nearby with Jack in hand (the title of the book I was reading, not the whiskey). There was a group of people sitting at the bar across the canal, and I felt like they were looking at me, but as I've learned, I ignored them, like the New Yorker I've grown up to be. But after a while, one of the women came over and started talking to me. She was super friendly and eventually asked me to join her and her friends for a drink. I greatfully accepted and went over to introduce myself. Eventually, they told me about a jazz concert they were going to attend that evening and asked if I would like to join them. They pointed to the boat tied up where I had been sitting with my pizza and explained that was their way of transportation. At first I hesitated, but once they agreed to return me to my hostel before the cerfew, I accepted and ran back home to change out of my sweat pants.
This is why traveling by yourself is so much fun! I had a wonderful time, we got in the boat and headed down the canal in the growing darkness. We passed by (or I should say under) Point di Rialto and eventually docked by a little bar/restaurant directly across the Canal Grande from the jazz concert. We sat on the dock, chatting the night away. As promised, I got a ride back home along the canals. What a wonderful end to my short stay in Venice!

Verona.
I checked out of the hostel and took the 10am train to Verona. Cosette came to meet me at the train station. A new chapter in my European Travels! Now I'm no longer on my own!
We took the bus to Grezzana, a small town just outside the city. We were going to stay with Jacopo, a friend of Cosette's, who apparently was having a bunch of friends over. It was like a dream. The house is over 300 years old. And huge. Full of old family treasures and relics. Like a whole cabinet full of old skeleton keys. Swords on the walls. Old photographs lining the walls of the giant stone staircase. Even a beautiful, very old wedding gown saved from years of decay in a small box. They have a vineyard a few minutes away where we helped to trim the vines in the boiling sun. Hammocks hanging under a covering of leaves. The garden full of zucchini and tomatoes and all sorts of herbs. And the most incredible treehouse I think I've ever seen in my life. Lastabella.
We were originally only supposed to stay for the weekend, but Cosette and I couldn't bring ourselves to leave this place. Or even more importantly, this incredible group of people. I think this may have been the best part of my whole trip. Now, I don't want to play favorites, I've loved every place and all the people I've met along the way have been wonerful and I've left each new place with a longing to return, but something about Italy as a whole, Verona and Grezzana more specifically, have a very special place in my heart.
Several of our friends worked in the Arena di Verona, where they perform opera... so we got to see Il Barbiere di Seville. For free. It was so beautiful. I promise to post pictures very soon.
At the house, we all lived in such wonderful harmony. Cosette described it to me as somewhat of a commune, but in every possible positive sense. We ate meals together, spent hours preparing food. One day everyone stood around in the kitchen making gnocchi. I have pictures of that as well =) One of the few rules in the house: the first person to wake up was respondsible for making coffee for everyone. We were 8 people with the occasional guest. And there was room for us all.
So we ended up staying for over a week.

Rome.

My flight back to Sweden was from Rome, and I couldn't NOT see the city. So I left early in the morning on Sunday, the 9th. My flight was the next evening. I had very little time to see the city, but I think I did pretty well. Similar to my experience in Venice, I squeezed as much in as I could untill I could hardly stand. Chiara, another connection from HB, was home for the summer, so I had a definite place to crash. The only problem was that I had no money left on my cell phone. I called from a pay phone, but we got cut off before we could make any definite plans. But no matter, we said we would talk later.
I packed the few necessities in my backpack and left my suitcase at the train station. I was going to take the train to the airport the next day anyway, so why bother dragging it around with me? Chiara wasn't going to be back in town until later. She was at the beach. I got a map and made my way to the Colosium. The line was so long, I gave up the idea of seeing the inside. I did not want to spend the little time I had standing in line. I can do that at the airport, thank you very much. But then I started talking to a young guy with a slight accent (was it Irish or Scottish? or South African? Couldn't really pinpoint it) and, the only time this whole trip, I signed up for a tour. I figured, I had so little time, it was worth a few extra euro to see both the Coluseum and the Ancient City, without waiting in line, following someone who actually knew what to look at. I really enjoyed the tour! The first guide, who showed us the Coluseum, was very funny, although slightly humiliating... he pulled me out of the group and used me as the example when he was talking virgins. And kept refering to me as such along the tour. The second guide was impressed that I was still around when we got to the Ancient City.
Just before we entered the Coluseum, Mike, the guy who had talked me into taking the tour (and who surprised me with a few words in Swedish) came up to me and gave me his number.
After the tour, I wandered around for a while, taking pictures. Eventually, I happened upon an internet/telephone spot and decided to try to give Chiara a call. I wasn't able to reach her, but I did get to talk to my mom. For the first time in about 3 weeks... I almost burst in to tears at the sound of her voice. I didn't even know I missed her that much!
After talking to my mom and Cosette, who was on her way to Paris by then, I decided to give Mike a call. I akwardly introduced myself and he gladly suggested we meet by the cat sanctuary and from there go get a bite to eat. Once we met up, I made it very clear I was only looking to make friends. I wanted to stave off any unwelcome advances as soon as possible. Not that he wasn't an attractive guy, but that's not the point. So we ate some delicious pizza, drank some wine and had a really nice time. After dinner we walked around for a while, ate some amazing gelato, and saw some of Rome's famous places and monuments. He was the perfect person to show me around, since he had worked as a tourguide before. He let me use his cell phone to call Chiara and eventually we met her at a restaurant with two others. Mike went his way and we continued the night with Mohitos in a very cool part of town. By 2am, I was so tired, I felt like I was going crosseyed. So we went back to Chiara's place where I slept like a baby.
I woke up much later than I had anticipated, not leaving much time to see the Vatican. But luckily, Chiara decided to hang with me and show me around, which also meant we would be getting around by car, thus saving us a lot of time. I had a great time, we didn't know each other very well, just been in class together, but we hit it off and after wandering Vatican City we bought some pizza and sat in a beautiful park eating and chatting away. When we got to the train station we had some extra time to spare before I had to catch the train. Time for gelato.
She dropped me off at the train station, I picked up my bag and got on the train. Everything went pretty smoothly, besides the incredibly long check-in line of tall, blond, blue-eyed Swedes.
Ciao Italia!

Barcelona

Wow, there is so much to tell, I don't know how I'm going to manage to recap everything, but I will try my best.

Barcelona.
My first impression when I got off the bus and stood outside the Hard Rock Cafe waiting for Veronica: Tourists. Everywhere. And hot. Sizzling with life. Strange, I could use all those same words to describe Paris (maybe I wouldn't say sizzling, but something similar with a more metropolitan clang to it) yet it was completely different.
Once again, I was incredibly lucky to have such wonderful people to stay with. Two super sweet, very welcoming Swedish girls =). I slept really well on the couch.
6 days was definitely not enough time to see everything nor really find my way into the groove of the life and culture of the city. I did not want to leave.
The best part, by far, was when we got out of the city. I was able to take two day trips up the coast, one to a beach near Sant Pol de Mar, the other to Costa Brava. So incredibly beautiful. Pictures to come!
My first day I went to the Picasso Museum with Tienne, the girl I met on the bus from the airport. We hit it off and hung out a few times before she flew back home. She lives in NY, so we will probably meet up at some point back home. It won't be the same as tanning on the beautiful Barcelona beaches together, but hey, New York has it's perks, right?
The first trip up the coast, I went with Lina and two of her friends. It took us about 2 hours to find where we were going, but it was SO worth it. The most beautiful beaches! I mean, besides all the nude old folks, but even that aspect adds something to the experience. We were there for hours, alternating beween soaking up the sun and diving in the crystal clear blue waves. There were big rocks in the water and clifs all around. You'll see when I post the pictures, even though I wasn't fully able to capture it's full beauty.
The second trip I took with Jordi, I guy I know from HB Studio. We've been in a few classes together, and it was actually his suggestion that inspired me to add Barcelona to my itinerary in the first place. He is originally from Barcelona with so much pride in his Catalan identity. We drove up to Costa Brava, with once again, the most beautiful beaches and little fisherman villages imaginable. Another highlight from my trip was eating Black Rice. It's not black rice you normally get, which is a form of wild rice. This stuff is black because of the squid ink they cook it with. It's like a Pallella but with even more liquid, and it's completely black. With seafood in it. Including whole crayfish, so by the time I was done, my fingers were completely black, not to mention the ink around my mouth. But it was sooooo good!!! Definitely my culinary hightlight from Spain. Or Catalunya. I think it may have been a typical Catalan dish. Not sure. But it was glorious.
I left at 5am on the 29th after barely 3 hours of sleep, groggy, but very tan and with the California-beach-girl side of me very satisfied. I think there may be some salt water in my veins.

I'm still here!

Hey ya'll!
It's been a while. I've written a little over the past few weeks, but never enough to publish a finished post.
I'm sorry!
I guess I was just too busy having the best time of my life to spend hours in front of the computer. (I might as well tell it like it is.)
It's gonna take me a couple of sittings to fill you in on all the fun... and the pictures will have to wait a day or two. But I promise they will come eventually!
To give you a better idea of the past, what can it be, 3 weeks? 4? I'm going to give you a little summary so you won't be so confused. A timeline! I love those. =)

I think the last post I published was when I first arrived in Barcelona.
So...
The things you already know...
6/17 - Nova left NYC
6/18 - Arrived in Copenhagen, Mathias's birthday, crazy first day including a trip to Tivoli
7/2 - Night train from to Berlin from Malmö
7/3 - Arrived super early in Berlin, Esmod fashion show
7/8 - Hannah arrived in Berlin
7/10 - Arrived in Paris from Berlin
7/22 - Arrived in Barcelona from Paris

Since we last spoke...
7/29 - Arrived in Venice from Barcelona
7/31 - Arrived by train in Verona from Barcelona
8/9 - Left Verona for Rome, early am, by train
8/10 - After 1 1/2 days in Rome, flew to Stockholm
8/13 - 1 hour trainride to Uppsala, relaxed on the farm
8/15 - Back to Stockholm for 1 day & night
8/16 - Train to Norrköping to visit more family
8/18 - Train to Göteborg
8/21 - Train to Malmö, spent a crazy weekend with Lovisa
8/24 - Train to Ystad, continued by car with mormor (grandma) to Borrbystrand
8/26 - Today!

Coming up...
8/28 - Going to see Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince in Lund with Elvin!
8/29 - Mathias's 40th birthday party!
8/31 - Nova returns home to NYC!!!

BARCELONA!

Traveling was the easy part. There were a lot of people checking in with EasyJet, but I managed to find a line that wasn't so long. I bought a sandwich and waited for the security check point to open so I could go to the gate. Got on the plane, sat in the EXIT isle and the middle seat was unoccupied, so there was plenty of room to crawl up and cross my legs. The flight was quick, a little turbulence, but otherwise uneventful. Once I was on the ground, I texted Veronica, my Swedish Barcelona hostess and she said she would meet me at Plaça Catalunya, where the bus would let me off. I got my baggage and, after walking in the wrong direction, found the bus. I got on, paid the 4.something €, parked my bag by the door and sat down next to a girl with black hair, who was having a vehement conversation on the phone in English. She was telling the person on the other line about how she had missed her flight and that she was just gonna stay for a while and please wire me some money... she said something about not knowing the date and I told her it was the 22nd. Once she got off the phone, we looked at each other, laughed and introduced ourselves. Tienne, who's also from NY, chatted the whole way in to the city. We managed to exchange information before parting ways at the bus stop. I met Veronica outside the Hard Rock Café and we walked back to her apartment talking about Sweden, NY, Barcelona, her life, my life, everything you could possibly talk about when you meet someone for the first time, feeling you already know them.

The apartment is really nice. And so is her roommate, Lina (also Swedish). We sat at the kitchen table, drinking some Cava (Spanish champagne), and talked until some time after midnight. I gave them the bottle of Rosé I had with me from Paris and as they headed off to bed, I took a shower and made myself comfortable on the couch.

Paris, the Final Days:

I did not want to leave.
Sebbe came back in the early evening on Monday. I was able to squeeze in a visit to the Picasso museum (I took a few pictures before someone said I wasn't allowed to. But I swear, I took a picture while a guard was sitting right in front of me and he didn't say a word!), a walk through le Marais, a stop at Berthillon for some of the best ice cream so far, and a nice rest, sitting on a stone wall gazing over the Seine before heading back to the apartment to await his return. We had a nice, relatively quiet evening, with 2 friends, Lebanese take-out, beer, and apple-flavored tobacco smoke swirling from the new hooka S had bought in Tunisia. French was spoken for the greater part of the time, and even though I wasn't doing a lot of talking, I was still able to participate and enjoy the company. Of course, Sebbe couldn't keep his hands off of the guitar, which was a welcome addition. He's quite good! Around midnight, our company left and we talked and brushed our teeth and talked... but we were in bed by a pretty decent hour. We planned to sleep no later than 10am, because we were going to have a full day of fun together!

It was almost exactly 10am when I got out of bed, sleepy-eyed and met Sebbe on the way to the bathroom. "Well, we said 10!" haha. Good timing!
We drank some tea, watched some French news and just an hour or so later we were out the door. We headed to Kitchen, a vegan restaurant co-owned by one of Sebbe's close friends, Amaury. They had written a little message to Seb on the blackboard (it was his birthday a few days earlier). The food was so good! We both had the quinoa salad... OoH, goodness, I felt like I was back home in Williamsburg, except better: in Paris! AND, it didn't have any of that slightly weird, bitter taste that quinoa sometimes has. It was perfect. And the cookie wasn't too bad either. It was the best I've had in a long time. Tons of oats and chocolate chunks and all kinds of yummy, gooey goodness. Ah. OK. I think I've raved enough.
After lunch, we walked for a while, heading over to a shopping center because Sebbe had an errand to run. His watch wasn't working and he needed to take it back to have it looked at. That was quite an excursion. There was a lot of back and forth, "no we didn't sell it to you, so sorry but it's not our problem" kind of stuff. Even though that's where he had it fixed the last time it stopped working. So finally, we go to a different watchmaker and they replace the battery and Voilà! It works. They replaced all 3 batteries and it cost less than 12€. Not too shabby!
So when we were finally done with that, we walked over to le Jardin des Tulieries. On the way, we stopped by Sebbe's ex's work, she came down and introduced herself (they get along really well) and gave him a shopping bag. Which, I later found out, held a box with brand-spanking-new Ray Bans. You know, the black & white ones you can decorate yourself? Ya.We also passed by Pierre's office, but he was busy with a client and couldn't come down to say hello. So in any case, we went and sat by the pond/fountain/whatever-you're-supposed-to-call-it, kicked up our tired feet and enjoyed the breeze. Did I mention it was the hottest it's been since I arrived in Paris? Super hot. So we sat there for at least an hour, talking about life. Sebbe is so cool, it feels like he's my older brother, not my uncle. I have this tendancy to adopt siblings, or at least place people in that light, because I was deprived of any real ones. So Seb, you're now my big bro.
Eventually, we left, making our way East. I had to pee so badly. We stopped at a Franprix for a bottle of champagne; we were on our way to a little birthday get-together. We stopped at a café to wait for Amaury (and so I could use the bathroom) and had a nice, cold Perrier. When Amo showed up we walked to a store, just around the corner, owned by a girl from London who works at Kitchen. So we had a lovely little sidewalk-wine dinking gathering. It was a nice break for me since she and her boyfriend hardly spoke any French, so everyone was speaking English. We were the first to arrive, but as the champagne started flowing, our little gang grew. All people that were invited, no one trying to get in on the festivities, or anything like that. Mostly people I didn't know, but Sebbe and Amo were there and Pierre showed up after a while as well. He had come directly from work, so he was much more appropriately dressed to be drinking champagne than the rest of the group. There was also a homemade chocolate cake that went around, which was delicious.As the party started to dissipate, Sebbe, Pierre, and I bade farewell and headed off to dinner. Pierre on his scooter and Sebbe and I following far behind by Metro. When we met outside the restaurant, Pierre had already been home to change into something cooler than a suit. We went to Restaurant Chartier, one of the oldest Brasseries in Paris, also known as "the snail experience" by some (according to Pierre). My favorite part, besides the old-time waiters, were the little cubbies, like mini filing cabinets, where the workers who whould eat there kept their napkins. I tried my first snail ever (!!! so proud of myself) off of Sebbe's plate, but ordered one of the 3 fish dishes. It was so hot, I really wasn't hungry, but I ate as much as I could. The boys ate tartar. Raw meat. We were so tired, all there was to do was go home to bed. It took me a long time to fall asleep. Even after a cool shower, I was melting.

I woke up before Seb and decided to go out ahead of him. We had made morning crêpes plans, but I wanted to try to make it back to le Jardin du Luxembourg one more time before leaving. So I took the train there, walked around for a bit, took some pictures, and sat by the fountain where S came and met me a little while later. We walked up rue Soufflot towards le Panthéon, and sat down at Café Soufflot for lunch. I had crêpes with lemon and honey and S had a sandwich. I love crêpes. That's all I have to say about that. After drinking coffee, we walked up to the Panthéon, I took some pictures, but we decided against spending the 15€ it would have cost for both of us to go in. So we headed back home.
I was dragging my feet as I finished packing my bag. Why am I leaving? By 3:20pm we were on our way to Denfert-Rochereau, where I was going to catch the train to the airport. We said goodbye at the entrance and I squeezed through the turnstile with my suitcase, down the stairs, and was on the train by 3:45pm.

Le Weekend:

So I didn't go out Friday night. I was too tired and it was cold & rainy... no fun. So I HAD to go out Saturday... you know, to make up for Friday. I left around 5:30pm and headed to YSASU, a clothing store owned by John, a friend of my good friend Russia (who's actually from Australia...) His store was super cool, I looked around and we chatted about NY & Paris, fashion, Ruissa (our friend, not the country), music, etc. He closed around 7pm, but before I had managed to buy a piece from him. It's a while oversized t-shirt-dress with a big V-neck (front & back), big sleeves, and little cut outs all along the top part. I'm not doing a very good job explaining it, but I love it. I've already worn it several times.
Anyway, so he closed up shop, and we hopped on his Vespa, followed by Joe, his friend from the store across the street, picked up some wine and headed over to his place.
His apartment was a bit empty since he had just recently moved in, but quite nice, with a big terrace; too bad it was drizzling. We popped open a bottle of white wine, clinked glasses, and wiled away the hours chatting and listening to music. I hadn't eaten anything for several hours, so I took it easy with the wine. It goes straight to my head (or more specifically, my cheeks) on an empty stomach. So I was glad when John brought out a plate with lox, mayonnaise, baguette, & veggies. He also heated an out-of-the-box pizza, but it had some sort of meat on it, so I stuck with the salmon. The food definitely helped to ground me and I had a really nice time. It wasn't until John brough out the Jack that things got a little crazy and after a while, I decided it was time to go.
I had made plans with Emmanuel, Sebbe's friend (and intern) for friday night, but we put it off on acount of the weather. So after texting back and forth, I decided to go meet him and his friends by Saint Michel. I was able to score a ride on Joe's scooter since it was on his way home.
After a confusing 5 minutes, I found Emmanuel infront of the statue and we walked back over to the bar where his friends were sitting outside. I sat down and was able to make conversation in French! They were very patient with me and helped me out, which is exactly what I need. I was very happy for the practice. But as the night went on, I eventually had to switch back to English: we went to a club/bar were the music was so lound, I really can't understand let alone for sentences in French. I have no idea what the place was called, it was loud, packed with tourists and smoke machine smoke. All I really wanted to drink was water, but I was forced to order something else before the waiter would bring me a glass. So I got another glass of wine, which I barely drank half of. At first, the music was really awful. I'll dance to almost anything, but I just couldn't make myself dance to this. But eventually, it started to get a little better, and with the first song I recognized I got up, grabbed Max, the only guy in our group who was the least bit interested in dancing, and hit the dance floor. Once I get started, it's really hard to stop. We didn't leave until around 4am. By that time, they had played some really good stuff and our whole gang was up and dancing.
In Paris, the subway stops running some time between 12 and 2am. There are night buses, but they're not exactly convenient, and I'm traveling on a budget, so I'd rather not pay 20€ for a cab ride home. E was of the same mind as me, so we biked. First we walked all the way to Jardin du Luxembourg, Emmanuel, Antoine, and I, where we picked up bikes (1€ / 24 hours!) at a Velib' stop and they guided me home. Let me tell you, biking in Paris at 5am is magical. I would be too scared to bike in Paris traffic during the day (at least until I know the streets a little better) but at night, there were hardly any cars, not to mention people. The whole city was glowing. We arrived chez moi just as the sky was starting to go from midnight to bluebird blue. I parked my bike at the Velib' station just down the street and, after saying goodbye at my doorstep, they continued on their way home. I was asleep by 6am.

Sunday morning, or more correctly afternoon, I woke up some time after 12pm. I drank tea, ate breakfast, showered, checked my facebook, you know, the usual. Wasn't sure what I wanted to do with the day, but it was passing by quickly. So by 4pm, I was out of the house, on my way to le Canal Saint Martin. Pierre had tipped me off about it ("the other river") along with some suggestions of restaurant/cafés in the area. I got off at Chateau d'Eau and after walking slightly off course for 15 minutes or so, I found the canal. I bought a peach and sat by the water, thinking about how quickly I am falling in love with this city. After finishing my incredibly juicy peach, I took out my book, with very sticky fingers. When it started getting a little nippy, I decided to go find a place for coffee where I could continue reading. Just down the street, I found Chez Prune, which was one of the places Pierre had suggested! So I went in, ordered a cafe crème and settled down with my book. After maybe 1/2 hour or so, I got a text from Pierre saying he was back from his weekend trip and wondering if I had already had dinner. I told him where I was and no, I had not had dinner yet, and we decided that he would come meet me. So I ordered a Perrier and after about 35 minutes, he was sitting across from me. We ordered some white wine and the little food they had on the menu: hummus and other dips/spreads, fresh veggies, & bread. It was perfect, seeing as neither of us was very hungry. We sat for a while, chatting about our individual weekend experience, my week in Paris, etc. It was getting late, and Pierre has to get up super early for work, so he gave my a ride home on the scooter (I love those things!) and I was able to get a full night's sleep.

Some Pictures

Took these over a week ago... Saturday night, when we went to the concert at Le Showcase. I forgot my SD card for my camera in Sebbe's card reader so I ended up using his card. Just got the pictures!

July 15, 16 & 17th:

The past 3 days have been so full of walking, my feet are still sore.

Wednesday: I woke up late, ran to the corner Boulangerie for a croissant, drank a big cuppa tea, ate my croissant and 1/2 pampelmousse, or in other words, grapefruit. Best breakfast ever. Blogged about the previous days fireworks, took a shower, etc. Time to go out into the sunshine. I grabbed my book, glanced at my map and decided to head to Les Halles. Pierre and I had plans to meet at a restaurant in the general area before going to a screening of Warhol's screen tests set to music. I wanted to find a grassy place I could sit and read. So I got off at Les Halles, walked through the weird, underground shopping mall, made my way passed some guys doing tricks on a skateboard ramp... it might have just been a statue they were using as a ramp, not quite sure... I found a nice spot under a tree right infront of l'Eglise Saint Eustache. I sat there for a while, watching the tourists taking pictures with the statue without a body and giggling at the rediculous book I'm reading (actually written by my friend's dad... a classic Swedish teen novel. You Swedes out there might know it: Jack by Ulf Lundell). After an hour or so, I got a text from Pierre saying we'd have to postpone our plans... his boss had just been laid-off and they were all required to say in the office late: Luckily, the same screening was showing the following day, so we decided to move our plans to Thursday. After sitting there a while longer, I got up and started walking in the direction I thought was towards Notre Dame... eventually figured out I was going in the oposite direction... so I turned around, this time with a better sense of where I was going. By this time I really needed to use a bathroom. After searching in vain for a public toilet, I went into a bar and asked if I could use theirs. They said it was only for customers, but if I bought something to drink... so I paid 1.80 Euro for a small bottle of water. And the bathroom. Of course, after walking about a block, I saw a big sign for public restrooms down a flight of stairs. Typical. Oh, well. I guess that's what it's like to be a tourist. I was a little hurt though. In NY, they almost always let me use the resroom if I ask nicely. Or at least they would have told me there was one down the street. Whatever.

I crossed the bridge at Point Neuf, walked along the Siene, and passed by Notre Dame for the 3rd time.

Went into a bookstore, Shakespeare & Co., feeling immediately at home. The people at the cashier were speaking English to each other and all the books were in English. New books, used books, Moleskin notebooks, ahhh... Walked down the very touristy streets between Notre Dame & Saint Michel bought some really, really yummy gelato (yogurt & "inimitable", wich is basically Nutella. SO good.) Wandered around for a while, making my way down Boulevard Saint Michel, eventually ending up at the Jardin du Luxembourg. As I was walking in through the gates, a young man I had passed on the street came up to me and asked if we could get to know eachother. What the hell. An oportunity to practice my French! It's not the first time I've been aproached on the street in Paris. Not even the first time today. And he seemed pretty harmless. So we walked around the garden, chatting a little (I didn't take any pictures! Grr, distractions. I guess I will have to go back). He tried to guess what I was studying: literature. Nope. But when I said theater, he said "ah! Tu as triché!" After making a little loop in the center, he confessed he had to go back because he had left his friend at the entrance to come talk to me. Nice. So we parted ways. I was able to wriggle out of giving him my info by taking his instead. He said he wanted to be my tourguide of the Opera. Ok, maybe... whatever you say. These French men are much more persistant than I expected! Now the things people have been saying about Italians are beginning to worry me a little.
I started walking towards my arrondissement, and I ended up walking all the way home.
I have a pretty good understanding of the layout of Paris, now that I've basically crossed the whole thing on foot. I bought some fruit & veggies & milk at the store, made a big salad and, after eating, crawled into bed.
I love going to sleep when your whole body is screaming for rest. It's like you just sink through the mattress and lose yourself in the darkness.

Thursday: Another late start. I've been having such lazy mornings, it's the best. No early-morning classes, no rehearsals or homework. I love Summer!
Pierre had promised to send me some recommendations of places to go, buthe hadn't had much time to send me anything. So it was a great surprise, when I turned on my phone, to see the text message saying I should go to Montmartre, and more details about the Metro, streets, etc. So I put on a summer dress and my most comfortable sandals, filled my water bottle and was on my way! I walked up Rue Lépic, really long & winding, with lots of cute cafés and little tiny alleyways with housed covered in flowers & ivy. At the top, Sacré-Coeur. So beautiful. I don't think the pictures do it justice, by a long shot. But I'll put them up anyway. I went to Espace Dali, just as I did my first time in Paris, 11 years ago. I had 2 sketches drawn, they wouldn't leave me alone. One guy did it absolutely free. And spend the whole time trying to convince me to marry him. Seriously. I spent several hours walking around, taking photos, eating ice cream....

I eventually made my way back down Rue Lépic and strolled along the streets wandering in the general direction of Dédé la Frite, the restaurant I was to meet Pierre at. I still had about 2 hours to kill, but I thought it would be best if I had an idea of how to find the restaurant. I walked for a bit, oggling at all the beautiful old buildings. It seems like on every street there is some magnificent Cathedral, Hotel or just a plain old rediculously gorgeous apartment building.
I even walked by a firehouse with all these firemen playing volleyball outside in the courtyard. I was so tempted to take a picture (I really should have) but I was afraid of making a scene. There were so many of them. Bare-chested. It was such a beautiful old building too, with "Caserne de Pompiers" over the gates.
In any case, I found a little park with a fountain just across from the Bibliothèque Nationale de Paris and lay down in the grass to read.
At 8:20pm I made my way over to Rue Montmartre. It took me some effort to find the restaurant... I walked up and down the street a couple times, thinking I had passed it, but it was a little farther up the street. I found Pierre sitting at a table outside, waiting for me. I sat down and ordered one of the only things on the menu without meat, a really yummy croque-something, with pesto, tomato, mozarella, and I think another kind of cheese, all melty and toasty. Yum. With salad and fries on the side. The fries were so good! At first they came out with our food and my sandwhich was just meat and cheese. Definitely not what I ordered! But Pierre was able to sort it out, and I finally got my sandwhich.
We were finished just in time to jump on the scooter and zip over to l'Eglise Saint Eustache, the same church I had sat outside the day before, for the screening of "13 Most Beautiful... Songs for Andy Warhol's Screen Tests". It was hypnotizing. I really enjoyed it. It was amazing how strongly you're affected by the people on-screen. When they would laugh or smile, I would respond in the same way. The girl who cried made me choked up. Or you would just lose yourself in the deep black of their eyes. It was even more dramatic with all the thunder and lightning outside. Just as we got inside, it started to pour. And when we left, it had stopped =)
So we went to Café Noir for a drink. I really like that place. It feels so Williamsburg or LES. Totally kitchy, so fun. And they play really good music. And the bathroom is disgusting. Yup, totally NYC. It started to pour again and we had to wait a while for it to clear up so I could get on the train. It was too wet, and the threat of more rain was too great for Pierre to give me a ride home. Too bad, since I'm totally in love with scootering around town.
Another really long, exhausting day. But so much fun!!!

Friday: I woke up early, which was weird, considering I've been sleeping so late. Couldn't go back to sleep, I ate some breakfast, took a quick shower and since it looked like it was going to be a rainy day headed over to the Louvre. It is so huge, if you haven't seen it, I can't help you. It's undiscribable.

And the best part is that, as an EU citizen and under 26 years of age, it's free! You just go up to the counter, show them your passport and they give you a ticket! Good thing, because there's no way you can see everything in one day. I'm going to try to go back again before I leave.

After walking around for several hours, looking mostly at paintings from France and other parts of Europe (including the Mona Lisa, of course), my feet and legs were so tired and I was getting really hungry, so I went out and sat on the grass in the Jardin de Tullieries.

It turned out to be a really beautiful day, lots of sunshine. I was way too warm in my rainy-day jeans. I ate my apple and read for a while. Then I strolled through the garden and down the Champs-Elysées.

By the time I got to the Grand Palais (the museum I went to for the Warhol exhibit) it had gotten very gray and windy. Looked like more rain. So I got on the train and headed back home. Bought some groceries and when I got back to the apartment I put on some really bad music, turned up the volume, opened a beer with a fork since I couldn't find the bottle opener, and had a big cleaning party in my underwear. I know, I'm weird, but sometimes I have a ridiculously good time cleaning.
Afterwards, I was completely exhausted. I made some dinner and read some more. Around 10pm, I got a text from Emmanuel, a friend of Sebbe's, asking if I wanted to join him and some friends for a drink. I said yes, of course, but later we decided to take a rain check. Literally. Too much rain. And I was so tired, I could hardly keep my eyes open. So instead of going out for a wild Friday night, I crawled into bed and happily drifted off to sleep.