It's been a crazy few days.
Crazy. Amazing. Beautiful. Fun. Drunken.
Leaving Buenos Aires after a big night out with the super fun crowd on my tour we made our way north to Brazil on the overnight bus ride to beat all overnight bus rides...18 hours later we arrived at the border and entered the land of samba and caparinhas...
We have spent the last few days at Iguazzu Falls, admiring the power of these amazing falls from both sides of the border - the Brazilian side for an overview and the Argentinian side for an up close and personal inspection - including a speed boat ride underneath to be completely soaked by the spray. The falls are up there with the most breathtaking and generally coolest thing I have seen in the entire world in my life. To describe them would be impossible and I have spent quite a lot of time just staring at them, pinching myself that I am actually here, in Brazil, experiencing such an amazing sight.
When I'm not playing under waterfalls I have been spending time with my new friends, eating at fun restaurants and drinking many many caparinas. A healthy mixture of aussies (of course), brits and scandinavians most of us are young and up for a good time, letting our hair down every night and holding parties in our rooms after hitting the town.
Heading to a bar a couple of nights ago we danced the night away to some latin tunes and chatted in spanglish to the locals. Last night we were invited to a barbeque with some other GAP tour groups that are here at the moment. The local contact here who transports us around often holds barbeques for the groups at his house....an amazing place with pool and built in barbeque it was the ultimate party venue and as we drank even more caparinas and munched on the most delicious steak we met other travellers before dancing the night away under the stars.
It hasn't been anything less than completely full on and we are looking forward to the next few days which will be a little more relaxed as we travel by another overnight bus tonight to Paratay....which to me sounds like 'party' always a good sign....a beach town where we plan to do some boat trips and chillax under the brazilian sun.
Till next time...
Sunday, 27 February 2011
Monday, 21 February 2011
Paris of the South
Buenos Aires is a city of contrasts.
From the older barrios of San Telmo and La Boca with their tango and street markets to the ultra modern Palermo and Puerto Madero with their swish and trendy restaurants and shiny sky scrapers the city oozes a cosmopolitan charm, holding its head high against some of the better known cities in the world.
They call it the Paris of the South - so I, of course, have been searching for the similarities to my favourite city. They are few and far between. Perhaps Buenos Aires is more European than some of the South American cities I'm yet to see, but the charm it has is its own in a somewhat quirky way. It's a little more gritty and a little more dirty than Paris owing, I guess, to economic troubles in recent years. Sidewalks crumble and buildings are tired...a degree of poverty is obvious with large-eyed children juggling tennis balls at traffic lights in the hope of a little cash and beggers approaching tables at restaurants...
But the leafy avenues edged by art deco facades, wide sidewalks and old cafes do suggest a slightly Parisian feel, in particular Avenida de Mayo which was deliberately built in a Parisian style as an emphatic statement to the world that Buenos Aires is a cosmopolitan city.
The historical centre of the city is walkable and my hotel is central so i have spent the days using my own two legs to get around. strolling gently in the sunshine through the antique street markets open only on Sundays in San Telmo...stopping for a beer here or there and tasting local specialties such as empanadas - delicious little baked pastry morsels filled with ham and cheese or a bolognaise type sauce.
I have splurged on a mouth-watering Argentinian eye fillet and a glass or two of Argentinian white at a fancy restaurant in Peurto Madero and have watched tango on San Telmo's ancient streets. Today i got off the beaten track (if you wish to read that as 'I got lost' then so be it!) and found myself in a quirky little pizza restarant with wood fired flavours to die for in Palermo - the area where well-to-do Portenos walk their pedigree dogs and well-dressed children (or is it the other way around?) outside of comfortable looking apartment blocks.
I have wandered the museums - the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires (MALBA) - a MoMA type building filled with crazy and beautiful pieces of contemporary art, where the building itself may just diminish the art somewhat. And a museum dedicated to Evita...her life's story, photographs, dresses and the heartbreaking tale of her death that has made me want to turn around and watch the movie again (Madonna or no Madonna....)
It's fascinating - this city of contrasts...a city rich with colour and tradition and with just the right amount of nod to the modern and the trendy.
till next time...
From the older barrios of San Telmo and La Boca with their tango and street markets to the ultra modern Palermo and Puerto Madero with their swish and trendy restaurants and shiny sky scrapers the city oozes a cosmopolitan charm, holding its head high against some of the better known cities in the world.
They call it the Paris of the South - so I, of course, have been searching for the similarities to my favourite city. They are few and far between. Perhaps Buenos Aires is more European than some of the South American cities I'm yet to see, but the charm it has is its own in a somewhat quirky way. It's a little more gritty and a little more dirty than Paris owing, I guess, to economic troubles in recent years. Sidewalks crumble and buildings are tired...a degree of poverty is obvious with large-eyed children juggling tennis balls at traffic lights in the hope of a little cash and beggers approaching tables at restaurants...
But the leafy avenues edged by art deco facades, wide sidewalks and old cafes do suggest a slightly Parisian feel, in particular Avenida de Mayo which was deliberately built in a Parisian style as an emphatic statement to the world that Buenos Aires is a cosmopolitan city.
The historical centre of the city is walkable and my hotel is central so i have spent the days using my own two legs to get around. strolling gently in the sunshine through the antique street markets open only on Sundays in San Telmo...stopping for a beer here or there and tasting local specialties such as empanadas - delicious little baked pastry morsels filled with ham and cheese or a bolognaise type sauce.
I have splurged on a mouth-watering Argentinian eye fillet and a glass or two of Argentinian white at a fancy restaurant in Peurto Madero and have watched tango on San Telmo's ancient streets. Today i got off the beaten track (if you wish to read that as 'I got lost' then so be it!) and found myself in a quirky little pizza restarant with wood fired flavours to die for in Palermo - the area where well-to-do Portenos walk their pedigree dogs and well-dressed children (or is it the other way around?) outside of comfortable looking apartment blocks.
I have wandered the museums - the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires (MALBA) - a MoMA type building filled with crazy and beautiful pieces of contemporary art, where the building itself may just diminish the art somewhat. And a museum dedicated to Evita...her life's story, photographs, dresses and the heartbreaking tale of her death that has made me want to turn around and watch the movie again (Madonna or no Madonna....)
It's fascinating - this city of contrasts...a city rich with colour and tradition and with just the right amount of nod to the modern and the trendy.
till next time...
Sunday, 20 February 2011
It Takes Two to Tango
It's sex in a dance.
That's really the only way to describe the way the Portenos (people from Buenos Aires) dance the tango. Strong and sensual, intense and passionate the dancers move effortlessly to the music with the woman in the highest of heels and slitted dresses all the way up her thigh....all the better to lift her leg up at incredible angles and hook it around her partners' waist all the while managing to not topple over. The men are suave and cool in suits and hats, effortlessly twirling his partner, occassionally throwing her around a bit - maybe over the shoulder or bent back to the floor.
The tango is an art form that dances to the beat of Porteno life....I had expected to see some but I hadn't expected it to be so much a part of life here. Sure a lot of it is for tourists, but there is more to it than that as specialty tango shoe shops along the shopping malls advertise their wares and tango shows are as common as movie theatres.
I took myself on a date to a tango show last night. Most people do dinner and a show but there's not much point in that when i'm on my own so dinner was a snack beforehand instead and unforutunately I think my choice meant I had the worst seat in the house - right at the back. But I loved the show...with it's sparkly dresses and fun set changes it was more like a theatre production than I expected. I left completely perplexed as to how they do some of those moves....it takes two to tango...
It rained all day yesterday. If I had wanted rain I would have stayed in England - but at least the rain cooled things down somewhat. I decided I would go ahead with my ultra touristy plans anyway and get one of those open topped buses to see the sights in one tourist crazed day. I got soaked. But I also got to go to La Boca....my fave part of BA so far.
I've never seen so many bus loads of tourists snapping away like crazy or so many souvenir shops in one block....but you can still see what this area must have been like in its heyday - one of the poorest parts of BA (still) it has always been a working class stronghold and a centre for bohemian artists. Tango developed here in the tenement houses made of corrogated iron painted in the brightest of colours with the paint left over from the dock and ships at the harbour just down the road. The city's first port, La Boca was an African slave colony before the Italian immigrants moved here in the 1880s and it retains a thriving cultural scene - in and amongst the tourists.
I also visited the museum of fine arts, the best in the country, according to my oh so knowledgable guide book, containing collections with all the greats of european art - renoir, rembrandt, rodin, picasso etc as well as a whole floor of argentinian art which I found refreshing and different after 2 months viewing the works of many of the above european artists in their home towns.
and now it's time to tango my way further into this facinating city...
Till next time...
That's really the only way to describe the way the Portenos (people from Buenos Aires) dance the tango. Strong and sensual, intense and passionate the dancers move effortlessly to the music with the woman in the highest of heels and slitted dresses all the way up her thigh....all the better to lift her leg up at incredible angles and hook it around her partners' waist all the while managing to not topple over. The men are suave and cool in suits and hats, effortlessly twirling his partner, occassionally throwing her around a bit - maybe over the shoulder or bent back to the floor.
The tango is an art form that dances to the beat of Porteno life....I had expected to see some but I hadn't expected it to be so much a part of life here. Sure a lot of it is for tourists, but there is more to it than that as specialty tango shoe shops along the shopping malls advertise their wares and tango shows are as common as movie theatres.
I took myself on a date to a tango show last night. Most people do dinner and a show but there's not much point in that when i'm on my own so dinner was a snack beforehand instead and unforutunately I think my choice meant I had the worst seat in the house - right at the back. But I loved the show...with it's sparkly dresses and fun set changes it was more like a theatre production than I expected. I left completely perplexed as to how they do some of those moves....it takes two to tango...
It rained all day yesterday. If I had wanted rain I would have stayed in England - but at least the rain cooled things down somewhat. I decided I would go ahead with my ultra touristy plans anyway and get one of those open topped buses to see the sights in one tourist crazed day. I got soaked. But I also got to go to La Boca....my fave part of BA so far.
I've never seen so many bus loads of tourists snapping away like crazy or so many souvenir shops in one block....but you can still see what this area must have been like in its heyday - one of the poorest parts of BA (still) it has always been a working class stronghold and a centre for bohemian artists. Tango developed here in the tenement houses made of corrogated iron painted in the brightest of colours with the paint left over from the dock and ships at the harbour just down the road. The city's first port, La Boca was an African slave colony before the Italian immigrants moved here in the 1880s and it retains a thriving cultural scene - in and amongst the tourists.
I also visited the museum of fine arts, the best in the country, according to my oh so knowledgable guide book, containing collections with all the greats of european art - renoir, rembrandt, rodin, picasso etc as well as a whole floor of argentinian art which I found refreshing and different after 2 months viewing the works of many of the above european artists in their home towns.
and now it's time to tango my way further into this facinating city...
Till next time...
Friday, 18 February 2011
Don't Cry For Me Argentina...
I am in Buenos Aires...the first time I have ever stepped foot in South America.
I am excited!
And hot.
It's 30 degrees here. It's 7 degrees in London. I'm feeling the difference. And the lack of sleep after a 16 hour flight. Luckily I have four days here to explore - perhaps now is the time to rest.
There are several things I like to do when I first arrive in a strange new city in a strange new continent.
1) Get Lost.
It's not that I like to do it - it's just what generally happens. However, this afternoon while wondering around the local area I discovered that it's less likely to happen here. The city is a grid with very clear street signs. Yay for gridlike cities!! However....let's not speak too soon....
2) Drink Beer
It's so hot...I had walked about a block before I started looking out for a sidewalk cafe that might sell beer. No one else was drinking beer I noticed - just coffee and pepsi. Spot the Aussie anyone??? Still....it was big and cold and it hit the spot while I read in my guidebook all about what I'm supposed to be looking at.
3) Eat.
The only thing I've eaten here so far is ice-cream (did I mention how hot it is?). It was good. From what I can see there are two types of restaurants in which to eat dinner. Steakhouse or pizzeria. This is my kinda place.
4) Do Like the Locals - particularly when crossing the road
Every city is different when it comes to crossing the road. Many are like most aussie cities - you wait for the green man before you cross unless it's the middle of the night and there's no cars to be seen for miles. Then there are the cities in South East Asia where you litterally walk out in front of trillions of scooters and walk very slowly, holding your breath, so they can scoot around you. Or Rome, where you're supposed to look the driver in the eye to make sure they stop (they don't anyway)....very difficult to do when there are 10 cars coming at you. Here...it seemed pretty straightforward. You cross when the cars are stopped. Simple. Still...I waited for the locals to go first.
So far so good for Buenos Aires. I'm looking forward to going out to check out the steak later. But for now it's time for me to indulge my jetlag....
till next time...
I am excited!
And hot.
It's 30 degrees here. It's 7 degrees in London. I'm feeling the difference. And the lack of sleep after a 16 hour flight. Luckily I have four days here to explore - perhaps now is the time to rest.
There are several things I like to do when I first arrive in a strange new city in a strange new continent.
1) Get Lost.
It's not that I like to do it - it's just what generally happens. However, this afternoon while wondering around the local area I discovered that it's less likely to happen here. The city is a grid with very clear street signs. Yay for gridlike cities!! However....let's not speak too soon....
2) Drink Beer
It's so hot...I had walked about a block before I started looking out for a sidewalk cafe that might sell beer. No one else was drinking beer I noticed - just coffee and pepsi. Spot the Aussie anyone??? Still....it was big and cold and it hit the spot while I read in my guidebook all about what I'm supposed to be looking at.
3) Eat.
The only thing I've eaten here so far is ice-cream (did I mention how hot it is?). It was good. From what I can see there are two types of restaurants in which to eat dinner. Steakhouse or pizzeria. This is my kinda place.
4) Do Like the Locals - particularly when crossing the road
Every city is different when it comes to crossing the road. Many are like most aussie cities - you wait for the green man before you cross unless it's the middle of the night and there's no cars to be seen for miles. Then there are the cities in South East Asia where you litterally walk out in front of trillions of scooters and walk very slowly, holding your breath, so they can scoot around you. Or Rome, where you're supposed to look the driver in the eye to make sure they stop (they don't anyway)....very difficult to do when there are 10 cars coming at you. Here...it seemed pretty straightforward. You cross when the cars are stopped. Simple. Still...I waited for the locals to go first.
So far so good for Buenos Aires. I'm looking forward to going out to check out the steak later. But for now it's time for me to indulge my jetlag....
till next time...
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Last Days....
Tomorrow I leave Europe...and I don't know when I will be back. It hurts. It feels like the end of my trip - even though I know I am yet to spend 6 weeks in South America.
I leave behind some of the people I love most in the world. But the time I have spent here with them has been healing and relaxing...just as spending time with people you love should be.
I got on that plane in Brisbane 2 months ago with so much excitement...winging my way over to this side of the world with plans and dreams and the highest of hopes.
I was welcomed back to my old home town of Horsham with open arms by the people who are so close to me and who I love so much that I refer to them as my 'English Family'. In no time it was as if I had never left. I spent heaps of time in the South of England and plenty of time in London, being treated to amazing meals, lots of drinks and fun days spent in all my favourite English places catching up with a lot of the people who really matter to me.
I flew to Barcelona twice to spend much-craved quality time with my best friend...soaking up this amazing spanish city through his eyes and learning about his life there...committing every moment to memory in the hope that they will last me through until i am next with him...seeing in this year of change by celebrating the very best of spanish food and traditions, helped along by a dinner party full of fun and fabulous people...
I spent a snowy white christmas in switzerland with my long-time and very precious friend Alex and a bunch of fun aussies that embraced me straight into their home and group. we clamboured around mountains at the top of the world and raced down them on toboggans before heading home to gallons of french champagne.
I lived out my ultimate fantasy by living in Paris for a month....in a little apartment on the left bank, learning french, meeting fun new people from all over the world, including a few frenchies! and attempting to be 'la belle parisienne'...living and breathing my favourite city in the world and making the most of every single opportunity it offered....
I leave with a very heavy heart. This was a trip I have looked forward to from the moment I left in June 2009...and saying goodbye was always going to be difficult
But there is one thing I know...Horsham, and the cities around it in which I have become so comfortable, London, Barcelona and Paris, will always hold an anchored, stable place in my life and my heart. I'll be back...hopefully sooner than we all think.
And now....on to Buenos Aires and a whole new adventure.
till next time.
I leave behind some of the people I love most in the world. But the time I have spent here with them has been healing and relaxing...just as spending time with people you love should be.
I got on that plane in Brisbane 2 months ago with so much excitement...winging my way over to this side of the world with plans and dreams and the highest of hopes.
I was welcomed back to my old home town of Horsham with open arms by the people who are so close to me and who I love so much that I refer to them as my 'English Family'. In no time it was as if I had never left. I spent heaps of time in the South of England and plenty of time in London, being treated to amazing meals, lots of drinks and fun days spent in all my favourite English places catching up with a lot of the people who really matter to me.
I flew to Barcelona twice to spend much-craved quality time with my best friend...soaking up this amazing spanish city through his eyes and learning about his life there...committing every moment to memory in the hope that they will last me through until i am next with him...seeing in this year of change by celebrating the very best of spanish food and traditions, helped along by a dinner party full of fun and fabulous people...
I spent a snowy white christmas in switzerland with my long-time and very precious friend Alex and a bunch of fun aussies that embraced me straight into their home and group. we clamboured around mountains at the top of the world and raced down them on toboggans before heading home to gallons of french champagne.
I lived out my ultimate fantasy by living in Paris for a month....in a little apartment on the left bank, learning french, meeting fun new people from all over the world, including a few frenchies! and attempting to be 'la belle parisienne'...living and breathing my favourite city in the world and making the most of every single opportunity it offered....
I leave with a very heavy heart. This was a trip I have looked forward to from the moment I left in June 2009...and saying goodbye was always going to be difficult
But there is one thing I know...Horsham, and the cities around it in which I have become so comfortable, London, Barcelona and Paris, will always hold an anchored, stable place in my life and my heart. I'll be back...hopefully sooner than we all think.
And now....on to Buenos Aires and a whole new adventure.
till next time.
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
A London kinda day
It's freezing cold and the people are rude. I must be back in London! I must be 'home'....
A month in France has left me linguisticly confused....while i'm ever so grateful to be back in english-speaking-land I keep finding myself saying 'merci' to shopkeepers as they hand me my purchase and 'pardon' (the french way) when I bump into someone on the train....
Coming back to England I decided to spend a quiet couple of days in London itself with Alex before heading back down south. Planning a day to myself to take in the fact that i was back and quietly reminice about the good times in France I took myself off to Greenwich. Famous, of course, for the fact that it is 0 on the median line (or something or other) Greenwich has a lot more going for it than that just that. Crazily and unexpectedly the day had dawned with sunshine (*gasp*) so i spent some time in the big park....sitting in the sunshine and watching the locals taking their dogs for a run....before heading off to visit the various museums and art gallaries in the royal observatory and surrounds.
Later, meeting Alex for a drink in East London I was surprised by her choice of meeting place. Alex is my ultimate gal-about-town in London. She knows all the places of the moment, is up with all the latest happenings...and if a restaurant is cool she knows it. So when she suggested meeting at the 'Commercial Tavern' I had to wonder....to me it sounded like some sort of back street pub for the local factory workers! I couldn't have been more wrong....nestled into a tiny corner in Shoreditch the pub is eccentric and quirky in all the right ways....with a mismatch of chandeliers hanging above the bar and brightly floralled wallpaper the crowd was super hip and the decor super fun.
Moving on for some food we stumbled across 'Pizza East'...pretentious, said Alex. but gorgeous if we are deined good enough for a table....the place was packed at 7.30 on a tues night but somehow we must have been deined good enough and found ourselves at the bar watching the hot italian chefs toss around their dough without a care in the world. oh...and the food was good too.
The main reason for my little stay in London was our next activity. A teeny tiny venue in Shoreditch was hosting Art Vs Science - a well known band from sydney who haven't yet made it big over here - thus the small venue - a bonus when seeing aussie bands in england...I have learnt, over the years, to trust Alex's taste in music. She is much more 'up' on the scene than i am (even the australian scene despite the fact she lives in london) and, though i only knew one song from this band ('Parle Vous Francaise'...a song which i clearly adore for the lyrics if nothing else...!) I wanted to go along for a little dance anyway....and dance we did....the music was awesome, the band breathtaking live and the crowd well into it...! what a fun night...
Every now and then - more often than not - london turns on the perfect day for me. Yesterday was another one.
I do love this city.
Till next time.
A month in France has left me linguisticly confused....while i'm ever so grateful to be back in english-speaking-land I keep finding myself saying 'merci' to shopkeepers as they hand me my purchase and 'pardon' (the french way) when I bump into someone on the train....
Coming back to England I decided to spend a quiet couple of days in London itself with Alex before heading back down south. Planning a day to myself to take in the fact that i was back and quietly reminice about the good times in France I took myself off to Greenwich. Famous, of course, for the fact that it is 0 on the median line (or something or other) Greenwich has a lot more going for it than that just that. Crazily and unexpectedly the day had dawned with sunshine (*gasp*) so i spent some time in the big park....sitting in the sunshine and watching the locals taking their dogs for a run....before heading off to visit the various museums and art gallaries in the royal observatory and surrounds.
Later, meeting Alex for a drink in East London I was surprised by her choice of meeting place. Alex is my ultimate gal-about-town in London. She knows all the places of the moment, is up with all the latest happenings...and if a restaurant is cool she knows it. So when she suggested meeting at the 'Commercial Tavern' I had to wonder....to me it sounded like some sort of back street pub for the local factory workers! I couldn't have been more wrong....nestled into a tiny corner in Shoreditch the pub is eccentric and quirky in all the right ways....with a mismatch of chandeliers hanging above the bar and brightly floralled wallpaper the crowd was super hip and the decor super fun.
Moving on for some food we stumbled across 'Pizza East'...pretentious, said Alex. but gorgeous if we are deined good enough for a table....the place was packed at 7.30 on a tues night but somehow we must have been deined good enough and found ourselves at the bar watching the hot italian chefs toss around their dough without a care in the world. oh...and the food was good too.
The main reason for my little stay in London was our next activity. A teeny tiny venue in Shoreditch was hosting Art Vs Science - a well known band from sydney who haven't yet made it big over here - thus the small venue - a bonus when seeing aussie bands in england...I have learnt, over the years, to trust Alex's taste in music. She is much more 'up' on the scene than i am (even the australian scene despite the fact she lives in london) and, though i only knew one song from this band ('Parle Vous Francaise'...a song which i clearly adore for the lyrics if nothing else...!) I wanted to go along for a little dance anyway....and dance we did....the music was awesome, the band breathtaking live and the crowd well into it...! what a fun night...
Every now and then - more often than not - london turns on the perfect day for me. Yesterday was another one.
I do love this city.
Till next time.
A little town called Marseille...
When the time came to leave france it seemed i wasn't quite ready. I have had such an amazing month in paris...learning (a little) french, playing with my new friends, exploring my new surroundings...I felt comfortable and at 'home' in Paris and wanted to discover whether I felt the same way in other parts of the country.
Luckily Bethany is always up for an adventure so the two of us began to plan a weekend away.....the problem was where to go. There were several options - most only 3 hours away by France's high-speed super trains - the TGV. Nico suggested Marseille so we threw that into the mix and, after a little research it topped the list. The deciding factor was the weather - for 15 degrees with sunshine our vitamin D deprived selves would have gone anywhere!
Nestled against the Mediterranian in Provence, Marseille is one of the oldest cities in France - second in size only to Paris it is grittier and harder than the capital, but with ancient architecture - island forts and churches - and streets of mansions reminicient of the left bank of paris.
The Vieux Port - the old town - feels just like a little fishing village - it reminded me of some I have travelled through in Normandy - on the West Coast of France a million miles away. A massive harbour with expensive yachts alongside shoddy little fishing boats...a fishmarket held every morning at the crack of dawn and seafood restaurants lining the streets nearby.
The specialty is boulbanaisse....a crazy soup that comes all at once in three different servings - bread with a mustard mayonaise and cheese, a seafood broth, and a plate of seafood - fish, mussels, and boiled potatoes...I'm not sure what the correct method is to eat this thing but i just chucked it all together and it went down a treat with a glass of cote de rhone!
We 'did' the city in 24 hours...from pretty churches on top of nearby mountains to cruises down the mediterranian coast to glasses of wine in gritty little back streets Marseille impressed us with its laid back atmosphere. Definitely a place to come back to - maybe in the summer when you could go for nice long walks along the rocky coastline and find a quiet little spot in the sun before dipping into the water for a quick snorkle....
It seems that I am indeed as at 'home' in other parts of France as I am in Paris.
A bientot mon belle France. I'll be back...soon...
Till next time.
Luckily Bethany is always up for an adventure so the two of us began to plan a weekend away.....the problem was where to go. There were several options - most only 3 hours away by France's high-speed super trains - the TGV. Nico suggested Marseille so we threw that into the mix and, after a little research it topped the list. The deciding factor was the weather - for 15 degrees with sunshine our vitamin D deprived selves would have gone anywhere!
Nestled against the Mediterranian in Provence, Marseille is one of the oldest cities in France - second in size only to Paris it is grittier and harder than the capital, but with ancient architecture - island forts and churches - and streets of mansions reminicient of the left bank of paris.
The Vieux Port - the old town - feels just like a little fishing village - it reminded me of some I have travelled through in Normandy - on the West Coast of France a million miles away. A massive harbour with expensive yachts alongside shoddy little fishing boats...a fishmarket held every morning at the crack of dawn and seafood restaurants lining the streets nearby.
The specialty is boulbanaisse....a crazy soup that comes all at once in three different servings - bread with a mustard mayonaise and cheese, a seafood broth, and a plate of seafood - fish, mussels, and boiled potatoes...I'm not sure what the correct method is to eat this thing but i just chucked it all together and it went down a treat with a glass of cote de rhone!
We 'did' the city in 24 hours...from pretty churches on top of nearby mountains to cruises down the mediterranian coast to glasses of wine in gritty little back streets Marseille impressed us with its laid back atmosphere. Definitely a place to come back to - maybe in the summer when you could go for nice long walks along the rocky coastline and find a quiet little spot in the sun before dipping into the water for a quick snorkle....
It seems that I am indeed as at 'home' in other parts of France as I am in Paris.
A bientot mon belle France. I'll be back...soon...
Till next time.
Saturday, 5 February 2011
Monseiur young and funky...
I am spending my last week in one of the most beautiful cities in the world...a major player on the world scene, a western city crammed with millions of people.
One would think, with this in mind, that when my Chillian, American and Brazillian friends and I wanted to go for a little dance somewhere hot and funky, Paris might have something to offer us...even on a Wednesday night.
It seems not.
Walking down rue Montorgruil on Wednesday night at around 11pm the bars around us were closing and we were trying to work out where to go next (story of my life it seems....)
We must have been talking rather loudly. My chillian friends MAY have been staggering slightly....whatever the reason we drew attention from two young french guys quietly smoking outside a bar.
"Do you know where you are?' mr young and funky said to me in his frenchly french accent.
"yes...of course!" i said haughtily (la belle parisienne remember....)
"you want to go dancing but you are in paris on a wednesday night. there is no where to go."
oh....shame.
'BUT!' he continued....'just around the corner is a bar owned by a friend of mine. it is an underground bar (not litterally....just in terms of being young and funky i think...). It is known only by locals and if I don't take you there you won't know where to find it - there is only a door.....'
Hmmmm - intriguing! Of course i couldnt resist and rounded up my 5 friends (not an easy task...) and followed mr young and funky down the road.
The bar was amazing. teeny tiny and literally just a hole in the wall (mr young and funky was right - we wouldnt have found it if it wasn't for him...), the bar is owned by 'Sof', bartender and owner, he lives above the bar. he was born on this street, the bar was his father's before him, but he has turned this space into a trendy local spot in a seriously trendy part of paris, with DJs playing on the weekends and heavenly mojhitos being whipped up behind the bar.
I stayed for hours, enjoying the atmosphere (and the mohitos)....but most importantly the company where i chatted to the young and funky locals, one of whom had lived in australia for a year....who needs a dancefloor when you have found a secret bar....? parisian nightlife doesn't get better.
The next day bought a french experience of an entirely different sort when Bethany, my New Yorker friend, and I decided to do a souffle course at a little cooking school just near Hotel de Ville. Whipping up (litterally) a concoction of spinach fluffiness for our spinach souffles and a vinagarette dressing for the salad we enjoyed the fruits of our labour with a glass of vin blanc while the white chocolate souffles also whipped up by the class rose obediently in the oven.
Two hours of gastronomy heaven was so much fun amongst similarly minded foodies....both living in paris and visiting....a highlight of my trip....
It's been a good week...and I can't believe it's over.
One more party tonight with my amazing new friends who i will miss very much....then Bethany and I head to Marseille for more french adventures.
Till next time....
One would think, with this in mind, that when my Chillian, American and Brazillian friends and I wanted to go for a little dance somewhere hot and funky, Paris might have something to offer us...even on a Wednesday night.
It seems not.
Walking down rue Montorgruil on Wednesday night at around 11pm the bars around us were closing and we were trying to work out where to go next (story of my life it seems....)
We must have been talking rather loudly. My chillian friends MAY have been staggering slightly....whatever the reason we drew attention from two young french guys quietly smoking outside a bar.
"Do you know where you are?' mr young and funky said to me in his frenchly french accent.
"yes...of course!" i said haughtily (la belle parisienne remember....)
"you want to go dancing but you are in paris on a wednesday night. there is no where to go."
oh....shame.
'BUT!' he continued....'just around the corner is a bar owned by a friend of mine. it is an underground bar (not litterally....just in terms of being young and funky i think...). It is known only by locals and if I don't take you there you won't know where to find it - there is only a door.....'
Hmmmm - intriguing! Of course i couldnt resist and rounded up my 5 friends (not an easy task...) and followed mr young and funky down the road.
The bar was amazing. teeny tiny and literally just a hole in the wall (mr young and funky was right - we wouldnt have found it if it wasn't for him...), the bar is owned by 'Sof', bartender and owner, he lives above the bar. he was born on this street, the bar was his father's before him, but he has turned this space into a trendy local spot in a seriously trendy part of paris, with DJs playing on the weekends and heavenly mojhitos being whipped up behind the bar.
I stayed for hours, enjoying the atmosphere (and the mohitos)....but most importantly the company where i chatted to the young and funky locals, one of whom had lived in australia for a year....who needs a dancefloor when you have found a secret bar....? parisian nightlife doesn't get better.
The next day bought a french experience of an entirely different sort when Bethany, my New Yorker friend, and I decided to do a souffle course at a little cooking school just near Hotel de Ville. Whipping up (litterally) a concoction of spinach fluffiness for our spinach souffles and a vinagarette dressing for the salad we enjoyed the fruits of our labour with a glass of vin blanc while the white chocolate souffles also whipped up by the class rose obediently in the oven.
Two hours of gastronomy heaven was so much fun amongst similarly minded foodies....both living in paris and visiting....a highlight of my trip....
It's been a good week...and I can't believe it's over.
One more party tonight with my amazing new friends who i will miss very much....then Bethany and I head to Marseille for more french adventures.
Till next time....
Thursday, 3 February 2011
Ou est le discotheque?
A big tick off the list of things to do in Paris finally occured on Saturday night....
Though I have spent many happy Happy Hours in a little Parisian brasserie here and a fancy cocktail bar there I was yet to hit the dance floor...which, as you know, is one of my favourite things to do no matter where I am in the world.
But it wasn't until my good friend Jenna popped across the channel to help me party that it finally all came together. Meeting my Brazillian friend Guilli at a dive of an area (supposedly up and coming party spot though we saw no evidence of it...) Oberkampf we quickly moved into the centre of things - a fabulous street called Rue Montogruil near Les Halles - chock full of bars and restaurants this street has fast become a bit of a favourite for me.
A few mojitos later and we were ready to party. The problem was...where?? Rue Montogreil, as far as I know, contains bars, bars and more bars, but not a nightclub to be seen. Wandering around the streets aimlessly we decided that if there was ever a time to use our french...this was it. Jenna stood back....her french is perfect in comparison to us beginners...but I think she got a kick from seeing us give it a go...
Approaching a group of three fairly friendly looking people on the street we smiled sweetly and tried to look as touristy as possible.
"Excuse-moi," I butted into their conversation. "um....ou est le discotheque?"
They laughed and smiled sweetly and forgivingly back at us (Parisians can actually be really lovely).
"I speak good english" boasted our new friend. (Thank goodness! we thought, well let's face it...anything would be better than our french!!).
He proceeded to give us directions to two possibilities down the rue...one - a real 'club' club playing electronica where the 'little girls on the dance floor are hot...' (Guilli's eyes lit up but Jenna and I were clearly unimpressed.) Or, a bar with a dance floor...'continuez down the street beaucoup beaucoup beaucoup...and tournez a gauche.'
Cool. 'Merci beaucoup to our friendly parisians...we had a plan and off we went - to the bar with the dancefloor....
Expensive drinks, a crowded dancefloor and a dj pumping out random english tunes (some of which we knew the actions to....well Jenna and I did at least - we seemed to be the only one's on the dfloor that did! We did get some strange glances and I seem to remember a flash going off in my face at one point - perhaps the crazy english don't frequent that fancy club too often doing their silly moves) and I felt right at home.
I practiced my french with the friendly dancers around us and realised that I can actually manage to communicate (albeit basically) with someone who speaks little english...probably after a few shots have loosened my inhibitions.
"Je suis Australienne', I announced happily over an Oasis tune. "Mais j'habite en Angleterre pour cinq ans."
Sadly the person I was speaking to looked confused so I screamed in his ear again - this time in English.
"um...yes, I understood you the first time'....he said....before resuming his headbanging to the Beatles.
I was thrilled! I had been understood....In French! Most of the time I'm not even understood in English. What a breakthrough.
Till next time...
Though I have spent many happy Happy Hours in a little Parisian brasserie here and a fancy cocktail bar there I was yet to hit the dance floor...which, as you know, is one of my favourite things to do no matter where I am in the world.
But it wasn't until my good friend Jenna popped across the channel to help me party that it finally all came together. Meeting my Brazillian friend Guilli at a dive of an area (supposedly up and coming party spot though we saw no evidence of it...) Oberkampf we quickly moved into the centre of things - a fabulous street called Rue Montogruil near Les Halles - chock full of bars and restaurants this street has fast become a bit of a favourite for me.
A few mojitos later and we were ready to party. The problem was...where?? Rue Montogreil, as far as I know, contains bars, bars and more bars, but not a nightclub to be seen. Wandering around the streets aimlessly we decided that if there was ever a time to use our french...this was it. Jenna stood back....her french is perfect in comparison to us beginners...but I think she got a kick from seeing us give it a go...
Approaching a group of three fairly friendly looking people on the street we smiled sweetly and tried to look as touristy as possible.
"Excuse-moi," I butted into their conversation. "um....ou est le discotheque?"
They laughed and smiled sweetly and forgivingly back at us (Parisians can actually be really lovely).
"I speak good english" boasted our new friend. (Thank goodness! we thought, well let's face it...anything would be better than our french!!).
He proceeded to give us directions to two possibilities down the rue...one - a real 'club' club playing electronica where the 'little girls on the dance floor are hot...' (Guilli's eyes lit up but Jenna and I were clearly unimpressed.) Or, a bar with a dance floor...'continuez down the street beaucoup beaucoup beaucoup...and tournez a gauche.'
Cool. 'Merci beaucoup to our friendly parisians...we had a plan and off we went - to the bar with the dancefloor....
Expensive drinks, a crowded dancefloor and a dj pumping out random english tunes (some of which we knew the actions to....well Jenna and I did at least - we seemed to be the only one's on the dfloor that did! We did get some strange glances and I seem to remember a flash going off in my face at one point - perhaps the crazy english don't frequent that fancy club too often doing their silly moves) and I felt right at home.
I practiced my french with the friendly dancers around us and realised that I can actually manage to communicate (albeit basically) with someone who speaks little english...probably after a few shots have loosened my inhibitions.
"Je suis Australienne', I announced happily over an Oasis tune. "Mais j'habite en Angleterre pour cinq ans."
Sadly the person I was speaking to looked confused so I screamed in his ear again - this time in English.
"um...yes, I understood you the first time'....he said....before resuming his headbanging to the Beatles.
I was thrilled! I had been understood....In French! Most of the time I'm not even understood in English. What a breakthrough.
Till next time...
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