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Where does the time go? I think I’m going to still be catching up on blogging about France when I am back in the States. I returned from a wonderful weekend in Paris with my friend Helen last night and am leaving for six days in Rome tomorrow. Things that probably won’t get their own blog posts include my visit to Grenoble with Kat and Liza to see the crazy David Altmejd exhibit at Le Magasin. It was an amazing room full of what I can best describe as giant mirror transformer werewolves. There was also the Fête du Printemps in Valence, that featured an odd Texas/Oklahoma area complete with “authentic” outlaws and Indians as well as horse tricks and awful lassoing. Pictures here, here, and here. The festival also had one of the creepiest things I’ve ever seen in France: a performance of vegetable people, like Giuseppe Arcimboldo paintings come to life. I also went to Voiron with Kat and Leslie to visit Jaime to mark her last day in French with a climb up the hill behind her home. We didn’t factor in the fact that it had been raining, so not only was it an incredibly steep hike over slick leaves, there were also huge disgusting slugs EVERYWHERE. But the trek up slug mountain was worth it for the gorgeous view of the Alps and Rhone-Alpes.
As you can tell, it’s been a busy time and I feel like everyday I have to say goodbye to someone. I know that we’ll stay in touch, but I honestly don’t know when I’ll get a chance to see my friends again. I guess I feel lucky to have met so many wonderful people in such a short period of time. It’s only been since September that I stepped off the plane, a stranger to everyone in a city I had never seen.
Lyon in the fog.
On my parents’ last day in France, we took the train to Lyon, the second-largest city in France. The weather was a little foggy, but we had a nice walk around the city and a delicious lunch on one of the boulevards. I believe I had a can of my favorite soft drink in France: Schweppes Agrumes.
Someone had painted landscapes on the steps leading up to the Basilica.
I had no idea that the day after Easter was a holiday in France, so unfortunately a lot of things were closed. We took the stairs (I’m always going up steps in France) up to the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière and passed a lot of miniature landscapes that someone had painted on the walls.
Flowers at the statue's feet.
After admiring the view and seeing the inside of the Basilica, we saw the nearby Roman theatre and then took the path down the hill to the old town. Flowers had been placed at the feet of this statue of Mary, probably on Easter.
Weird rabbit swastika-thing on the Cathédrale Saint-Jean.
Unlike the rest of the city, the old town was bustling. I guess because it’s one of the most popular parts of town, and also because it was the only area open. We went into the Cathédrale Saint-Jean where we saw my new favorite thing in Lyon: the Horloge Astronomique. At certain hours of the day, it has 19 different automatons that move. Although one woman hilariously freaked out when it didn’t work right at 3 pm (according to her watch), it was not at all disappointing and bordered on spectacular. This video is the best I can find, but doesn’t really do it justice. It’s one of the oldest astronomical clocks in the world and was created in 1383. And the music it plays might end up in your nightmares.
Coffee in Lyon.
Afterward we had coffee and strolled around the streets and passages of the old town before sitting for a while by the river and then catching a train back to Valence. The next day I saw my parents off on the train to Paris and it felt a little odd to still be in Valence.
The Suisses were all dressed up for Easter in Valence.
I’m still without internet and am reduced to using it in the creepy McDonalds in Valence, because that’s absolutely the only thing open on a Sunday. And as I type, a woman with few teeth is sitting across the room from me singing along to the music. Or muttering along to it in imitation English. Now I know how all the odd people in town pick up the random English phrases… Anyway, I’m going to try to make a quick post.
After visiting Nice and the French Riviera, me and my parents took the train up to Valence. We mainly walked around the town that day and saw the river. The next day, we visited more of Valence and saw the big sites like the park and the cathedral. It’s interesting how a city changes when you see it through someone else’s eyes. I’ve lived in Valence now for over six months, but being with my parents made me notice things all over again. This was mostly good, like appreciating again how spectacular the park is on first viewing and how charming the cobblestone streets are. It was also a little bad, as the creepy men in the streets and the trash on the sidewalk stood out a lot more to me.
Flowers at the vineyards in Tain l'Hermitage.
Their second day in Valence, we took the train over to Tain l’Hermitage. Every other time I’ve visited Tain, I’ve gone to the Valrhona chocolate store first and then climbed up the vineyards. This time, in order to avoid that ill feeling you get scaling a hill with a stomach full of chocolate, we did the opposite. It was a clear and beautiful day and little yellow flowers had grown amongst the vines. I was surprised that there were still no leaves on the plants, but I guess it’s still early spring.
Vineyards at Tain l'Hermitage.
I still haven’t found the most direct route up and down the hill of vineyards, but it was nice to wind around and see the Rhone Valley from the top. Later, after the chocolate store and on the way back to the train station, we stopped at a wine store and sampled some of the regional wines. Apparently the Hermitage wines are only produced on the hill behind Tain l’Hermitage where we walked and are therefore more valued. There are also Crozes-Hermitages that are produced in the surrounding area. We ended up buying a Saint-Joseph that was produced in the Ardeche across the river.
Church at the top of the Tain l'Hermitage vineyards.
Eventually, we made it over to the church at the top of the vineyards. It doesn’t get much more picturesquely French than the old stone Church surrounded by vines and flowers. When I’d first come up to the church when my friend Randall was visiting, we took the most direct, but nearly deadly steep route. I had sworn to never do that again. Nevertheless, this was the way we decided to take down and it was as much sliding as walking. Luckily, I didn’t have to use my French health insurance and we somehow all made it down the slippery 45 degree angled dirt path. We were rewarded with many chocolate samples at Valrhona and then had lunch across the river in Tournon-sur-Rhone before later going back to Valence for the evening.
Protesting puppets at the March 20th strike in Valence.
This morning, I woke up to find a scorpion lurking outside my door. I didn’t want to risk a scorpion in my room, so I’m sorry to say it was killed by my giant French dictionary. I hope that this will not happen often. As much as I love animals, I prefer it when the ones that could sting me in my sleep stay outside my living space.
Yesterday I spent a lovely day in Aix-en-Provence, but I will get to that in another post. This Thursday there was another strike in France, this one claiming to be bigger than the January 29th “grève.” I didn’t have to go into work due to the disruptions with the buses and the fact that only two of the teachers I usually work with would be there. So after running the errands that I could on a day when most public buildings were closed, I walked to the park to see the strikers gathering. The umbrella issue was the economic crisis, with most believing President Nicolas Sarkozy is not doing enough to slow the recession. Even though this strike had a little more of a serious vibe than the January strike, there were still people walking on stilts and the giant puppets in the photograph above. I’m going to assume they represent people in the DOM-TOMs, although they could just as easily be leftovers from Carnaval. They kind of scared me, because when they walked their giant hands reached in front of them like they were trying to grab people in the crowd and their necks bobbed up and down. They also danced to the music, which ranged from drum groups to solo bongo players to U2 blasted out of a car stereo to a guy with a megaphone doing a version of Gavroche’s song in Les Misérables. He just substituted “Sarko” (short for Sarkozy) for Rousseau, which I guess was clever. Ex: “Misère est mon trousseau/C’est la faute à Sarko.”
Strike going down the boulevard in Valence.
I saw a couple of my students who screamed “ALLEESOON.” The kids are always shocked that I actually live in France and don’t fly home to the States every night. I guess their spatial reasoning is still being formed. I also ran into some other assistants lounging in the park, and we enjoyed a couple bottles of Clairette while watching the strike pass by. I’m still not sure about the strike culture here. It’s fantastic that people are so attentive to what their government is doing and are willing to express their opinions. However, it happens so frequently that it seems like it would lose some of its effect.
I taught a short lesson on American music in my private lessons this week, introducing the five main genres of the 20th century: jazz, country, rock and roll, hip hop, and pop. I showed a short video for each, using Miles Davis, Johnny Cash, Jimi Hendrix, The Roots, and Feist (I know, technically Canadian) respectively. The least favorite for all the kids was The Roots, alas. Anyway, I bring this up because there was a moment when we were talking about other types of music related to these. One of the kids said punk, so I played a short clip of The Misfits and their grandma, who was in the other room, shouts: “What is going on? Is everything okay???” I guess the punks are still making the older generation uncomfortable.
