No longer the City of Lights

I've mentioned several times now that Paris is deserted during the summer months, but I finally found a way to capture the ghost town ambiance on film. This is a picture of the apartment building that faces ours at around 10pm--a time when most French families would be home and finishing up dinner. The complex is generally pretty, with a whole collection of lighted windows providing distant glimpses into people's balconies and living rooms. Not anymore.I know that most countries' tourism industries have suffered during the recent economic crisis, but judging by the number of absent Parisians I'd bet that France is still doing pretty well on that front.

Gone "en vacances"

It started with our favorite restaurant, Chez Gladines. We headed there a few weekends ago for one of their hugs platters of duck in Roquefort sauce and basque-style potatoes, only to be confronted with this:
(Dear clients, we have left on vacation. We will see you again from 7pm on Monday, August 2nd onwards. Have a good summer and a good vacation...the Chez Gladines team)

Dejected, we drank a pint at the bar across the street while we discussed our plan B, smiling in sad solidarity as we watched countless other students approach the restaurant only to turn away in disbelief.

The next strike was when I set out, folder of bureaucratic papers in hand, to the CAF office, to settle some problems with my socialized student rent remission:

(No CAF in July or August; reopening September 1st)

After that, I watched in bewildered American wonderment as each day another of the bakeries on my road pulled its blinds and closed its doors--for the following month! The Moroccan restaurant my office celebrated our last day in was out of kefta and lamb--they were closing the next day and trying to use up their remaining ingredients.

And now, even my office is closed. Friends I talk to back home are incredulous: "how have you already accrued vacation time? You've only been working what? 2 months?"

But no, I tell them, this is France: the country where the entire country goes on vacation. Together. Twice, even! (Once during the summer, and then again during ski season) And where do they go? Well, France, of course. Where else? As any Frenchman will tell you, they have everything they need here: party/wealthy beaches to the South, more subdued beaches to the North, surfing to the West, skiing to the East, sunny fields full of wines and chateaux in the middle--what more could you ask for?

It's good for the national tourism industry, I suppose, but not so much for French industry in the international market. Or their reputation, at least. The French even make fun of themselves, as evidenced by this ad for the Parisian", one of the free daily metro newspapers, which boasts being "the only Parisian that you can count on throughout the summer." In the poster shown here, they say "the only Parisian who will give you news all summer":
As for me? Yes, I'm officially "en vacances" but with my Master's exam fast approaching (end of August) I'm hitting the books instead of the beaches. Hélas! I hope to do a vacation day-trip or two, though, so we'll see. For now I'll just have to satisfy my urges to do as the French do by sipping my kir sauvignon from my wrought-iron window.

Living it up like the ancient Greeks

Athens felt a little like Spain to me: built up to be cute for tourists but happening, with a real pulse, and slightly less developed/cheaper than Western European countries. Greece in general seemed to have a lot of stray animals and a fair amount of abandoned construction projects --perhaps the after effects of a once much healthier tourism-fueled economy. It also progresses very quickly from the cute, friendly, consumer-driven tourist center of Athens to the grittier, grumpier, no-English-spoken "suburbs"--our trips to and from Athens' industrial port city of Pireas were a little less than picturesque. The Athenian transportation system leaves a little to be desired as well. The city's entire bus and metro system was shut down on the day we arrived, and when we returned the metro was running but with several stops closed, making it necessary to use a replacement bus service for part of the line. When we tried to get to the airport the next day the end stretch of the line was out of service, so we again had to rely on a taxi. Irritating, but at least it puts my annoyance with Parisian train strikes into perspective (train systems here are required by law to maintain minimum service, so it's never entirely impossible to get where you need to go).

Here's the view of the hilltop Acropolis from our hostel balcony. We got a private room and bathroom, kitchenette and sweet balcony for 25 euros a night each. Definitely the best value hostel I've ever stayed in:

Laura, enjoying said balcony after taking a car to a rickety island bus to a ferry to a train to a line replacement bus to another train to get there (ah, disfunctional Greek public transportation):

Big communist protest group we ran into while walking around. We never managed to figure out exactly what they were protesting, but considering the current financial crisis I'd say the government's handling of the country's finances is a good bet:

Cool graffiti found halfway up the Acropolis hill:The cool thing about Athens is that it's a bustling, modern city, but then everywhere you turn you see remnants of something from the 5th century. Wild. There was even an underground monument area in the middle of Monastiraki plaza, where you could look through glass as you walked across to see the stone foundations of ancient houses around a long since dried river.

Monastiraki plaza at night (you can just see the Acropolis lit up in the background):
We splurged on a nice dinner for our last night, being sure to get our fill of stuffed vine leaves, feta, zucchini balls, lamb, moussaka and a honey-cake dessert called galactobourico. After heading back to the hostel we enjoyed a night view of the Acropolis over 3-euro pints of Mythos (Greece's go-to cheap beer) at our hostel's rooftop bar:

Around Aegina

On our last day in Aegina we had to take a local bus to the port on the other side of the island to catch our ferry back to the mainland. The bus was rickety, and Laura needed a Dramamine to brave the curvy mountain roads, but the ride through the little inland houses and stretches of pine-covered hills was surprisingly scenic.
This side of the island was much more populated, as you can tell from the crowd at the café we ate lunch in.
For dessert, we bought some strawberries off a purple track-suited vendor who operated from her boat. I had to go aboard to pay.
View of the shoreline, with its many motorcycles and a Greek Orthodox church:
Boats!
The water in the harbor was amazingly clear, which afforded a good view of the many sizes and types of fish. These gray ones seemed to be eating algae off the bottoms of boats.
We look so legit with our backpacks. (The blue and black one on the ground is mine).

Yamas!

Although we flew in and out of Athens, most of our time in Greece was spent on the island of Aegina (pronounced "egg-eena" with the emphasis on the first syllable), which is about 45 minutes away from the mainland by ferry. We had a little trouble getting there due to non-running bus and metro systems, which meant everyone at the airport was queuing for taxis. After we made it through the line and the 45 euro taxi ride we found ourselves at Athens' port city, the dreary, deserted and industrial Pireas, ten minutes after our intended ferry had left.

Luckily, we were still able to catch the last ferry out two hours later. Here is our first view of Aegina, whose port seemed all the more picturesque after our two hours of purgatory in Pireas. It was almost worth missing the first ferry to see the full moon rise over the island.
Our hotel, the family-run Kavos Bay, was at Agia Marina on the quieter Western side of the island
Due to our early, non-peak season arrival and the recent economic crises, we were the only tourists at our hotel (and almost on our side of the island). The result was that the island's many bars, restaurants and hotels were open but oddly empty--and exclusively ours! This is the patio of our hotel.
We also had the beach all to ourselves. The water was a bit cold yet, but definitely swimmable with a good dose of sunbathing before and after.
The coastline was pretty rocky. On our first morning we clambered around the rocks and across little coves to check out the tidal pools. The rest of the time we just found sunny rocks to lay on.

There were a lot of fossils in the rocks:
The only shot I got of myself was of my feet:
Look how clear that water is!
The little glimpses I got of corals, urchins and aquarium-worthy fish are making me really consider taking a scuba class.

We got VIP treatment in the town, where we were among the only clients. We ate out every night--"Greek salads" (cucumbers and tomatoes topped with a huge square of feta), fried feta, feta and peppers (seeing a pattern yet?), fresh fish, stuffed vine leaves and Greek variations on kebabs. We also spent a long evening with Mike at Mike's bar, a chill South African-Greek who gave us free shots of "rako", the island moonshine, and brought us fruit cocktails with sparklers in them. Yamas! ("cheers," in Greek)
Our hostel was about a mile's walk along coastline and through pine forest trails from the Agia Marina town center.

Watching the ferries and the fishermen made our St. Mary's spirits long for sailing
We woke up on our last morning to watch the sunrise...
...though we all agreed that the full moon over the water was more beautiful.

I'm back, ol' chap

So I'm just back from our trip to London, which was (happily) unaffected by all the chaos surrounding English travel after the Eyjafjallajokull volcano grounded flights (I totally copy-and-pasted that from another site...I bet news rooms all over the world have reference notes posted on the wall reminding reporters how to spell and pronounce that ridiculous Icelandic name). I had a jolly old time across the Channel, and have revised my opinion of London from a sort of "meh" European city to "I would totally live there some day". I'll be making a few more posts this week to give some pictures and recap of various experiences I had, but for this first one I'll just give my general impressions of the city.

Let's start with the basics: the London Underground (or "Londerground," as it should really be called). If you read this blog often you'll know how much I both love and am critical of public transportation. The last time I was in London I found their system overpriced, run-down and not at all user-friendly. The improvements between then and now blew my mind. The Tube is undergoing major construction (or, for the Brits, "improvement works") and it is now cleaner, brighter and more efficient than the Paris metro. Stations don't smell like piss, ads come in flatscreen TV form, and "Oyster" cards facilitate the day-pass payment process in a way that ends up being pretty cheap (at least if you ride the metro a lot in one day). Trains have also come a long way towards being more accessible--"lifts" (elevators) are still few and far between, but their availability is well-marked on maps, and all trains have a clear voiceover reading out the direction and stops. The downsides: it's still unnecessarily confusing, with line transfers often poorly marked and maps not at all to scale. All the works also mean that they take advantage of commuter weekends to essentially shut the whole system down, leaving you without many alternatives other than the iconic if slow double-deckers to get around town. Whenever I started to get frustrated, though, I was able to find humour in the utter Englishness of it all--from the "mind the gap" and "this train will wait on the platform to even out the gaps in the line" warnings, to the strange names the lines carry. Rather than using colors (like D.C.) or numbers (like Paris), the English opted for rather more arbitrary system of names, some self-explanatory ("Central", "District", "Northern") and some place-based but hilarious ("Bakerloo", "Jubilee", "Hammersmith and City").


The stereotype of the polite Englishman is all too true, and it was charming to be apologized to instead of trampled during rush-hour. London is also delightfully diverse, however, and while it's easy to find pasties, meat pies, fish and chips and tea, they might well be served with a foreign accent. The number of French-speaking Londoners everywhere was incredible; language-wise it didn't feel that different than Paris. Judging purely by accents heard on the street, there also seemed to be a pretty sizable American population (which I suppose explains why the English don't find my accent nearly as 'exotic' as I do theirs). The availability and quality of foreign cuisine was also great, and we had delicious, non-English dinners pretty much every night.

Food and clothing seemed much cheaper in general in London than in Paris (although hotels and housing are apparently much more expensive). Since the pound is at a record low against the dollar right now I spent some of my time while Tom attended his conference on London's famous Oxford street, a shopping mecca with all the major chain stores represented (sometimes multiple times!). I bought some new summer wardrobe fare and also picked up a few choice items that are either non-existent or exorbitantly-priced in Paris (cheddar cheese, Crunchie chocolate bars, sunscreen, toiletries...)

Overall, my favorite part of London was the literary/film/theater associations it brought to my arts-minded brain. Passing through Paddington (the bear) or King's Cross (Harry Potter) stations made me smile, and walking around Fleet Street (Sweeney Todd), Portobello Road (Bednobs and Broomsticks), Notting Hill (the movie) and Baker Street (Sherlock Holmes) put me in the same sort of fantasy world (albeit not that of Madeline, Notre Dame's Hunchback, and Amelie) that Paris used to evoke before it became so quotidienne. Parliament had me pondering Guy Fawkes, and Big Ben Peter Pan, and I found myself chanting "oranges and lemons..." and "London bridge..." and other nursery rhymes under my breath almost constantly. I'm slowly realizing that I must be a little bit crazy to constantly be zoning out and making the connections that I'm so apt to. No matter, though--it's cosy in here.


(That odd-shaped building is affectionately known as "the Gherkin." Tee hee hee)

Nantes Jaunt

I spent this past weekend exploring another corner of Bretagne (Brittany). By "exploring" I actually mean "eating my way through", à la Eric Carle's very hungry caterpillar. This trip was organized by our French office assistant who has a taste for the gourmet, so we took full advantage of all of the fresh fish, kouing aman pasteries, salted caramel, crêpes and non-Parisian prices the region had to offer.

We started in Nantes, the capital of Bretagne and the 6th largest city in France, which was cute if rather bland. With a tram system, a small "ethnic" quarter, a medieval center and six-floor white buildings with wrought-iron balconies, it felt basically felt like a smaller, cleaner Paris with less people and wider streets. Highlights were visiting the little fortified castle in the town center, where you could see an old German war bunker from the WWII occupation as well as the site where the Edict of Nantes was signed. Before leaving Nantes we payed a visit to the Île des Machines exhibit, a "robotics" museum/workshop where one can see/interact with mechanical wood artwork vaguely inspired by the imaginary universe of Nantes-ian writer Jules Vernes. The coolest robot by far was an enormous wood and leather elephant, which is big enough to fit 40 passengers for a short jaunt around the square.

Next we hopped on a bus and continued on to a Muscadet vinyard on the edge of the Pays de la Loire Departement. The couple that owns and single-handedley runs the vineyard gave us a tour of the still rather dead-looking vines and the production facilities of their award-winning wine. I learned about wine production I hadn't known previously. Apparently you don't leave the grape skins in wine (too sour) and red grapes can therefore be used to make white, rosé or red wine depending on the delicacy and time-frame of the juicing process (for example, apparently all "authentic" Champagne comes from red grapes). Even if they don't do much for the taste, however, the skins are the source of the yeast, which ferments the wine by converting sugar into alcohol until such a point that it dies from the alcohol concentration it has created. (The difference between grape juice and wine is therefore simple pasteurization, which kills off the yeast before they get a chance to start making alcohol.) Afterward the wine-making lesson we were treated to a wine tasting of a young 2009 Muscadet (sweeter, almost bubbly, and more acidic) and an older 2003 one (drier, smoother). I liked both, but opted for the older as my souvenir.

We spent the night in La Baume, a small coastal town that was pretty, though pretty much like any Maryland or Delaware beach town in the off-season. The water was still a little cold for swimming but we enjoyed a stroll along the sand to find some shells, and our five course dinner was in a restaurant literally on the beach.
Saturday started with a trip to the marshes of the Presqu'il de Guérande, where the famous "fleur de sel" sea salt is harvested by hand from seawater channeled inland and concentrated in a series of canals and shallow pools. We toured the salt pools, then visited a co-op to purchase some local food products: jams from local berries, a seaweed tartar (also harvested from the swamps), Bretagne's famous salted caramels, and of course, salt. The salt looks like greyish rock salt and is valued by gourmet chefs for its delicate flavor. I'm not going to lie, I don't quite "get" it, but considering that a wholesale bag was only a euro I figured I'd give it a try.

A later boat ride through the swamps made me nostalgic for the Chesapeake Bay, whose shallow waters, grassy duck blinds, herons and crabs are surprisingly similar to those in Bretagne (although, of course, better--Maryland pride!). We ate lunch in the fortified medieval town of Guèrande, then walked around the picturesque village of Khérinet to see the rustic houses with roofs made of swamp grass. By the time I finally got back I was gorged with gourmet food, exhausted, and highly satisfied: both to have seen a little more of the "real" France beyond Paris and to have that feeling of returning "home" attached to Paris on the train ride back.

Maghrebian showdown: Morocco vs. Tunisia

Hello friends! Due to a sad lack of WiFi, I wasn't able to blog about Morocco while actually in Morocco. I've been home for about a week now, battling lingering intestinal problems (dr's verdict: not a parasite! yay) and intellectual, post-travel burnout, but I'm about ready to get back up on that blogging horse. Overall, Morocco was a blast, especially because I got to share it with my Mom (who also conveniently footed the bill). I was really surprised at how different from Tunisia it was, though...both in its Arabic and its culture. It felt much more "foreign" than Tunisia, much less Western, and also much less-developed. Its people were equally as welcoming, though, and its culture almost richer. I'll be posting pictures and descriptions over the next few days, but because I'm a total nerd, here's a basic comparison chart to tide you over....

I pretty much just wrote things as they came to my mind, and as you'll see, some are more significant than others. The bolded column indicates my favorite when I had a preference.

Morocco	Tunisia
Fresh squeezed orange juice	Fruit smoothie “cocktails”
Ceremonial, yellowish mint tea, poured from a silver teapot at a high height into ornate glasses	Often oversteeped, brownish mint tea, usually kept in an industrial-style water boiler…but it often comes with pinenuts
Shisha illegal at cafés	Shisha EVERYWHERE
Comparative sampling of dialect: Jooj, bzehf, bshal? (two, a lot, how much?)	Zooz, barsha, bu qaddesh? (two, a lot, how much?)
Coffee with cinnamon	Coffee Arabiya with too much sugar
Tajine= a sort of rich stew, made with onions and either a meat (beef and prunes, or chicken and almonds) or vegetables	Tajine= a sort of quiche-type thing, made with egg, potato and spinach. This is a hard call for preference, but I’m gonna go with Tunisia, simply b/c Moroccan tajine is too dang heavy of a meal to eat during the summer.
	Tuna (on EVERYTHING)
Bigger cous-cous grains (easier to eat AND less messy)	Smaller cous-cous grains (drier and more delicious)
Breakfast: yogurt, berber pancakes (baghreer and Msemin) and corncakes	Breakfast: French pasteries, bread with fig or apricot preserves
Spanish and hilariously red-faced, overheated British tourists	French tourists
Locals don’t use silverware; scoop their food with taboona flat bread	Locals don’t use silverware; scoop their food with French baguette
Toilet paper! And flushable.	Toilet hoses and BYO TP, non-flushable
Street food: kebabs, or really disgusting sandwhiches with processed meat, rice, and….ketchup?	Street food: delicious sandwiches with fresh vegetables and fries, harissa or salata mushwiya for a dressing, and your choice of tuna, chicken, schwarma, kefta, tajine, omlette, merguez….all for dirt cheap!
Better carpets—variety, color and quality	Better jewelry souks—quality, craftsmanship, prices
More elaborate mosaics and fountains	Cooler painted doors and cast iron gates/windows
Better ceramic tiles	Better ceramic bowls/platters
“Salad”—rice with peas, carrots and peppers Salad Moroccaine—tomato, onion and hard boiled egg	Salad Mshwiya—“burned” peppers and tomatoes, puréed with harissa OR Salad Tunsiya—onions, tomato, cucumber and parsley in a lemon vinagrette
Seemingly efficient and well-loved King, with a castle in every major city. I would need more time to scope out the situation fully, but YouTube and Gmail both function without any problems.	Seemingly resented and corrupt “President,” with a well-guarded house in every major city. YouTube and many other sites are blocked, internet is screened, and freedom of speech/press in general is questionable.
French spoken by pretty much all people, although it still correlated with education. English and Spanish also widely spoken.	French spoken by most people, but a definite trend of more educated = better French. Italian and German also fairly widely spoken.