So I will admit..again…that I have been lax about blogging with regular posts. Though I have decided to do several posts as a late Christmas present! Don’t you all feel lucky.
Over Thanksgiving weekend, my friends Adrian and Cara set off on an adventure to France. Our tour would start in Marsailles, with a trip to Avignon, back to Marsailles then finish off the whirlwind tour in Paris, the city of almond croissants…I mean love. We set off bright and early on a Thursday morning to catch our flight to Marsailles. Everything went well, or as well as anything can go on a Ryanair flight and we made it to Marsailles.
We were in France. Though I was expecting a resounding chorus of Little Town with cries of Bonjour, I was welcomed to a gorgeous town. Marseille happens to be the second largest city in France, behind Paris, sitting along the beautiful Côte d’Azur. We started our adventure by wandering around the city with our two French friends from Sevilla, Jennifer and Violaine, who had already made the trip easier with the knowledge I lacked of the French language. We stopped to pick up some tickets for a concert we were going to later on and generally soaked up the French environment. We meandered through the old Greek district that had quaint shutters and tiny streets that were just inviting us to get lost in. As our day wound down, we parted wasy with Jennifer and Violaine, who were headed home, and began the adventure of finding our hostel. We were all feeling a bit off, this being Thanksgiving day, with all of our families several thousand miles away, but the 1.50 euro bus ride that essentially gave us a tour of the city on our way to the hotel cured some of our longings for stuffing and for stuffing ourselves.
We found our hostel, that was actually a hotel that sat near the football stadium. Adrian and I set off to find the stadium just as it started to rain and later found our way to a bread shop to acquire the baguettes we needed for our French Thanksgiving Feast. We ended up purchasing baguettes, Borsin cheese (so cheap!), carrots, oranges, and of course French red wine. We headed back to the hotel where Cara and I forced Adrian to list what he was thankful for, ate our unique dinner and listened to Citzen Cope as we enjoyed each others company. I could not have asked to have spent a holiday that brings family together with two better people.
The next day we decided to hike up to the highest point of Marseille where there just happened to be a famous church. Notre Dame de la Garde is a spectacular church, though the fact that we managed to make it may have made it that much better. It offered a birds eye view of the city and was constructed with different types of stone that reminded me of the mezquita in Cordoba. After braving the frigid tornado-like windows that woke me up better then any amount of coffee would have, we booked it to the train station.
We caught our train to Avignon. The trip through the southern French countryside was absolutely gorgeous. As we pulled into Avignon, we saw a large wall surrounding the city, which from my experience can only mean good things in terms of historical preservation. Avignon was gorgeous from its unfinished bridge that jutted out over the river, to the Pope Palace that was used before the Vatican.
We climbed on top of the wall and were greeted with sweeping views of chilly countryside with a few castles nestled among the hills. We stopped to play on the far superior playgrounds in the parks and any self-respecting 21 and 20 years old would do and headed to check into our hostel. As we rushed back through the city, realizing we would be late to the concert if we did not hurry up, we did stop to admire a stand in the Christmas market that was serving crepes, waffles and carmel apples. We stared longly for about a minute before continuing on. We made it back to the hostel where we changed into different clothes, feasted on more bread, cheese, and oranges and I promptly spilled my red wine all over the top of a dresser. Luckily, I believe, the wood was balsa or some sort of particle board so it soaked it right up, making it looked like that someone had bled profusley everywhere….oh crazy Americans. We headed to the train station where we had been told it would only run us about 12 euro for a taxi to the concert, apparently that meant for each of us. Money aside, we made it to the concert where we met up with another Oregonian, John Anthony, and we got to see RODRIGO Y GABRIELA!!!!
If you are not familiar with them, well you should be. They are two Mexican guitartists Rodrigo and Gabriela. Irma, a French singer who did beat box covers of Jackson 5 songs using an Andrew Bird-like recording method opened, then my dreams came true. The concert was one of the best I have attended. It was their first time playing in Avignon, my first time in France and I was in southern France where lavender, one of my favorite things to smell and bake with, is renowned.
Rodrigo and Gabriela gave a great show, playing some of their classics such as Diablo Rojo and Vikingman, adding in solos in which one Rodrigo started playing the opening chords of Manu Chao’s song Desaparecido. Adrian, already having waved his Mexico hat around wildly, began sining along with Rodrigo and was given a head nod. He could not have not been more pleased. (I apologize for all of the random music references, I hope you look them up!) After the concert, we ran into a very drunk Irishman who spoke to us in fluent French until we asked him to sing us a traditional Irish song. Expecting Danny Boy or something along those lines, I was surprised when he started sing Country Roads by John Denver. Needless to say, I could not stop laughing.
The next morning we took a train back to Marseille to catch a flight to Paris where I would be meeting up with one of my favorite people and my best friend Valerie. When we arrived back to Marseille, Adrian and I decided to quickly get a look at the Palais de Longchamp. We snapped some photos and headed back to catch a bus to airport. The next several hours consisted of some travel trouble, including me getting lost on the Paris subway, in fact, taking a train out of the city that was packed with French football fans heading to a game. I eventually got back on track and managed to get to the Eiffel Tower where I found a half-frozen Valerie and her friend Laura and managed to track down a fully frozen Josh. It was so amazing seeing Valerie after almost 6 months apart that I nearly cried, though I did not for fear of the tears freezing in the air. The five of us headed out to sample some some Parisian crepes. We ended up at a Greek restaurant, not quite typical, but the cinnamon, sugar, and butter crepe I had was none the less amazing! After only having seen Josh for about 2 hours, we parted ways. I needed some rest before my full day of touring with Valerie around Paris.
The next morning, we accidently woke up late. The classic trap of, “Oh they snoozed their alarm clocl, I should too!” caught us in its enticing claws but we still managed to hit the road at about 9:00. We of course started with a pastry. The next ten minutes of my life are hard to remember after starting my almond croissant, because I was deaf and blind to the world as my taste buds savored all the amazing tastes that were contained in a a little sugary treat. Riding on the wings of joy and a sugar high, we set off to the Eiffel tower where Valerie and I climbed to the second floor. It was surreal climbing up something I had only ever seen in movies, books, or pictures. The feeling was amazing. We later continued our tour to Sacre Coure in the Montmarte district. We wandered down the streets, briefly passing by the Moulin Rouge and stopping for a bite to eat before we walked to the Notre Dame. When we arrived at the Notre Dame, I was instantly reminded of childhood jokes of quoting the Disney movie “The Hunchback of Notre Dame when the portly gargoyle shouts “Pour the wine, and the cut the cheese!” (SEE!) 
We then walked across the street to my bookworm dream bookstore. Shakespeare and Company, walls filled to the ceiling with old and new books. Low soft lighting filled the main room, with christmas tree lights gently illuminating some of the darker corners. I could have easily spent a week living here, absorbing the wonderful atmosphere, but sadly had to leave after about 20 min. We headed back to the hostel where we grabbed our stuff. We got on the metro where Valerie and I had to say goodbye after seeing other for less then 24 hours. It was not enough, but we made the most of it. After a quick stop at the Louvre, I met Cara and Adrian at the Eiffel Tower. We headed back to the Friends Hostel that was located in a bit of a shady part of Paris. We were greeted with offers of hash and a woman dancing in between cars, shaking her butt at the hash sellers. Paris had and has a lot of character. After eating another crepe, we headed back to the hotel to get ready for our trip back to Sevilla the next day.The morning came too quickly and we took a train through the snowy French countryside to the town where our plane awaited us. I try and convey how amazing this trip was through words or photos but the experience truly transcends those. I will though, give it a shot with this picture of a croissant.
