Not So Successful At Sidestepping The Strike

(Originally written 12 April 2010, 10:17pm; I wrote down my blog posts for part of the time when I was in Carnac, but couldn't post them since I didn't have internet.)

Today I came to Carnac, to begin the second part of my vacation… and that sounds a lot easier than it ended up being.

I got up and finished packing, ate breakfast, and headed over to the train station in the morning. My train was supposed to leave at 11:49am to take me to Le Mans, where I had my connection which would take me to Auray (and from there they have a bus which goes around to all the various towns in the area that aren’t served by the trains). Unfortunately, when I got to the train station, my train wasn’t listed anywhere. At all. So I went up to Information to ask them, and there was already a line of about ten people. I quickly found out that I wasn’t the only one wondering what to do since the train didn’t exist. Apparently it was one of the ones cancelled because of the train strike. Instead, they gave me a schedule of transfers and TGVs that basically meant I went back and forth a lot and would finally get to Auray three hours later than I had planned, but at least I would get there.

So I got on the TGV going to Paris Montparnasse, which was leaving at 12:02pm. The thing about the way they transfer people to other trains, though, is that they don’t give you a seat or print you a new ticket unless you pay to buy a new ticket. You’re not technically guaranteed a seat, unless there are open spots. I was fortunate enough that the spot I picked happened to stay empty the whole trip, but a lot of people around me where asked to move by the actual ticket-holders, and the train was so crowded there were people standing in the entryway by the doors because they didn’t have seats.

About an hour later, I got into Paris. Fortunately I didn’t have to change stations to catch my connection, since I was going right back out west. I had about forty-five minutes, so I bought a sandwich and a drink. Then I was off on another TGV heading to Rennes. This time, I was not so fortunate in seating; in the last few minutes before the train was about to leave, a guy showed up with his two sons, and they were supposed to have the spot that I had just randomly picked. Another guy had set my suitcase in the overhead area, so I just left it there and went to stand by the doorway. There are little fold-down seats there, so I was able to sit for the two-hour ride to Rennes, but that didn’t mean it was comfortable. When we got to the station, I had the guy hand me down my suitcase (the problem for me with putting things up there is that later I can’t reach them without climbing on the seats. >.>) and I was the first off the train, heading to find my last connecting train.

The last train was heading towards Quimper, with a stop at Auray along the way. Because they had changed my ticket, I had a sticker on it that stated which trains I was allowed to go on, and I was also technically allowed to sit in 1^st class. On the other trains it had seemed like more of a hassle than it was worth, but on the way to Auray the 1^st class compartment was the first one I saw, so I figured why not? It wasn’t really all that amazing, to be fair; the seat was slightly larger, and that was pretty much it. But no-one came wanting my seat (I don’t think that train even had assigned seating), so I was comfortable on my way to little Auray.

When I finally got there, I realized that Auray really is little. It was more like the little side-of-the-road train stations of Chenonceau and Amboise than anything. I went over to information, since although I knew there was a bus, I had no idea where to go or when it would come. I was half afraid it would be a limited-time deal, and I would’ve missed it. But fortunately the next bus was coming about a half hour after I got there, and the bus stop was just outside the train station. I went out to look at the map and schedule, and try to get some sense of it myself, with little success. Another guy came up and was also looking at the schedule; we shared our confusion, and I found out that he was going to a little town just past Carnac, so wanted the same bus that I did. He double-checked with the woman, and she confirmed the departure time, so we waited.

There was actually quite a crowd collected by the time the bus came; I had a hard time fitting my suitcase in the compartment under the bus. I also had no idea where I was supposed to get off, and wasn’t sure whether she would announce it, or how it worked. I ended up being confused, but the guy from before was sitting near me and I asked him, and then had to double check with the driver because she stopped at Carnac Plage (the beach part of the town) where I wanted Carnac Ville (the slightly more inland half of the town, which is closer to the standing stones). I successfully got off the bus at Carnac Ville, got my suitcase, and looked around for a map, since I had no real idea how to get from there to my hotel. It all worked out though, because there was one right nearby, and after scrutinizing it for a while and figuring out what direction to go in- I turned around and saw that my hotel was just across the street from the bus stop anyway. :P

I’m staying at l’Hôtel des Alignements, which basically means the Hotel of the Standing Stones. When I walked in, finally, between 7 and 8 in the afternoon (I had meant to be there by 4ish), the woman who seems to run the hotel was in the restaurant part. But she quickly came over, gave me my key, and I headed upstairs. My room is really big, again; the bed, especially, is nice. The bathroom has some kind of weird thing; I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a bidet or if it’s for washing sand or whatever off your feet after going to the beach… I feel like I should probably avoid using it for either, just in case. The nicest thing, probably, is that I have a little balcony in the back looking out over the houses and the town.

After settling in a bit, I went out to wander the town a little and possibly find a restaurant. I quickly discovered, however, that Carnac apparently closes on Monday evenings, similar to Bruges. *sigh* I only looked around a little before I decided that it would just be easier to go back to the hotel restaurant and have dinner there. The woman who runs it appears to have a big soft spot for families; there were two families with kids, and she was joking and talking with them. I think they’ve been here for a bit, since she knew their names and what they’d been up to all day (the beach; to be fair, the sunburns would’ve probably given that away anyway). The food itself was fantastic; I had crab farsi for my entrée, which was served in the crab’s shell with a little salad. My main dish was a piece of some kind of white fish, with little (potato?) cakes, and this amazingly delicious buttery sauce. Then dessert was a pear tart, with a delicious creamy sauce around it, too. I had it all with a glass of rosé wine, which was very pleasant.

The one downside to this hotel so far is that I don’t have any internet, so I’m typing this up in Word so that I have it recorded and can transfer it over when I find an internet café or figure out a way to get my computer to one of the bars that apparently have internet. Oh, well; I’m sleepy from the wine and good food anyway, so I’ll probably go to bed early, wake up early, and tomorrow is the menhirs (standing stones)!

A Weekend of Pause

This weekend I'm staying in Tours, but Monday is when I'm going out to Carnac, for the second part of my vacation.

On Saturday, I got up and showered, and then hung out until brunch, enjoying the quiet house. I found out at brunch that Anika had planned to take Mathias to the swimming pool that day just as a fun outing, and he asked if maybe someone would want to go with him. I figured it might be fun, and although Tess didn't seem at all interested (I get the feeling she doesn't interact with the family much, although a lot of that is because she doesn't really speak French) I volunteered to go. I had to find my swimming suit, which I had fortunately brought, and set off with the other two.

We ended up taking the bus, which was a first for me. When we finally got there they hadn't yet opened for the afternoon. We only waited for about five minutes before they opened; unfortunately we then had to wait in line for a really long time before we finally got through into the swimming center. One thing I thought was interesting was that they have no kind of gender-based different changing rooms. Instead they just have a big hallway with dressing-room style "cabanes" that you go into to change, and then you go out the other side to where they have machine-controlled storage lockers. We left our stuff, rinsed briefly, and went into the pool area. It was actually fairly large and complex; I was impressed. There's a large pool outside, plus another regular 4-10-foot-style pool, a children's pool that wasn't more than three or so feet deep, a bi-level waterslide (the top level goes outside, then dumps into the pool that feeds into the lower level), and a big warm pool that had a fun sort of strong current path you could follow as well as several different areas with different massaging jets. Mathias and Anika and I played around for an hour or two, and then went to change and leave.

We took the bus back, stopping at one point when Anika bought us pastries to eat on our way. Mathias and I both got these sort of sandwich-shaped ones made of pastry with a layer of melted chocolate chips in the center. When we got back, I rinsed out my suit and hung it up, then collapsed on my bed and took a nap for about an hour. I actually overslept; I had made plans to meet up with Giovanni to go to some concert he had mentioned, and had to rush to get myself ready. When I met him at his house, we still had time to talk a little and have something to drink (I've discovered I actually really like water with mint syrup; it's very fresh) before heading over to the bar where they were playing. The group was put together by a friend of his who is also from Réunion, and they apparently play typical music from the island (there's a word for the musical style, but I can never remember what it is). After a little bit, though, I decided that I would just go back; the music was good, but the whole bar thing wasn't too appealing.

That night, we had rice with shrimp (heads and all, on some of them :P) for dinner, which was really good. Grant came back later in the evening, and he and I had a fun time just talking about our trips and what we'd done and seen. I also got to call Gramma and talk a bit, and tried to call Aunt Roxy, but she was apparently out clearing brush or something, and not available.

This morning I didn't have anything planned, so I slept in a bit, and then we had brunch. Grant and I looked over our stuff for Italian a little, and I now have a sheet of most of the grammar and notes that I need to have down. There's another girl here for a couple weeks, as well. Her name is Ladina, and she's from the German-speaking part of Switzerland. We had a fun time at dinner, joking around and talking. It was fun to have Grant back. Tonight I need to pack, since I'm leaving for Carnac tomorrow! I also need to try again to get a hold of Aunt Roxy, and hopefully I'll have more luck.

Sidestepping the Strike!

On Friday morning I didn't really have time to go and see anything, so I just took my time packing all my goodies and stuff and getting ready to leave. I ate breakfast for the last time, then gathered my things and headed off to the train station. I think there had to have been some kind of miscommunication when the guy at Information told me how to get to the hotel in the first place, because I just went across two streets, and followed one street all the way down to the station; it wasn't difficult at all. I got there early, so I ended up sitting on the platform for a while.

I had been slightly worried, because I got an email that morning saying that there was a train strike in France, and so there were possible problems with the trains. When my train going to Lille didn't show up until ten minutes or so before it was scheduled to leave, I was really starting to wonder. I actually think that train was just a Belgian one, however, since all of the announcements were in Dutch, and I didn't understand a word.

When I finally got to Lille, I had a two-hour wait until my train to Paris, so I got myself a sandwich for lunch and hung out in the station. The train to Paris was a TGV, which was fun. I like riding in them, because you can tell that you're going really fast and it's just fun. Once in Paris Nord, I again had to cross the city to get to the other train station. The Métro has apparently also been undergoing strikes, so there were certain lines (especially for the RER) that were closed, and about one train in five wasn't running. The one thing that was annoying was that the automatic ticket machines don't accept paper money; only bank cards with chips inside or change. When I discovered that, I had to find the window and buy one with the bills I had. The train was also very crowded; I'm sure because of the strikes.

When I got to Paris Montparnasse, the station that serves Tours and the western area, I had another wait of about an hour before I was able to get on my train. It was very crowded, and I'm sure some of the people were on there because their other trains had been canceled or delayed because of the strikes. There was a guy in my seat, who I had to ask to move, and then the guy sitting next to me slept the whole way. I literally think he went unconscious the second we started moving. Again, it was a TGV, so I got some reading done and watched the scenery for the hour or so it took to get to Tours. I ended up getting home even before the family had started dinner, so all I had to do was join them.

There were two new people: Anika, a friend of the family who is Swedish but teaches French and lives in France now; and Tess, who is a new student from Korea, and is living in Luzé's room since Luzé left. All of the other Concordia students were off traveling still, so the house was very quiet, which was nice. I unpacked some, got myself more organised, and settled back into the house for the weekend.

In Which the City is Inundated with Some Kind of Crazy

This morning, after breakfast, I had decided to go visit the sites that are rather farther away from the center of the city; namely the old medieval gates and the windmills. I wandered through town to get to the Ghent Gate, which is in the south of the city. Along the way I passed through the old fish-market (which was being used to sell fish today, actually!) and found a beautiful park right next to another pretty church. The Gate itself is only open upon request, so I didn't go in, but I took pictures and got to see the drawbridge just beyond it open to let a canal barge through, which was cool. Then I walked kind of generally in the direction of the windmills on the East edge of the city. Along the way I met an adorable, friendly calico cat, who let me pet him and was really affectionate. He followed me for a little bit after I went to leave, before running away from somebody walking their dog.

I quickly realised, unfortunately, that I wasn't where I should've been and was very close to being lost. I wasn't worried, since it wasn't like I was on any kind of schedule, so I just wandered around and consulted the map a few times until I found the way to the mills. There are two on that end of town, right by the Kruispoort (one of the other gates around Bruges). The first one I saw was the Koeleweimolen, and then just north of it was the Sint-Janshuismolen (a molen is a mill, apparently). The wind was (as one would expect) very strong up on the hills on which the windmills stood, but the view was very pretty. After seeing them and the Kruispoort, I headed back towards the center for lunch.

I ended up eating at this little restaurant on the other side of the canal near the Burg. I had more soup for my entrée, and then Flemish Beef Stew for my main dish. It was very good; they don't serve it in a bowl like you would expect with stew. Instead it's a plate, with chunks of beef and the thick stew broth/sauce poured all over it, with fries on the side. It's supposed to be a traditional dish, and I really enjoyed it. Then my dessert ended up being crème brulée, which was also very good. The waiter and I had a pleasant little conversation about traveling in Europe and various things, and he said if I wanted I could stay and talk longer and keep him company I could, but I figured I should go do things, and I'd get restless if I just sat there.

As I was getting up, the weirdest sort of musician-thing came into the little square; he was driving a little vehicle, which was basically a full brass band all operated by just him, and he was playing and singing. It was really cool, but really random! Then when I walked around the corner, there was another guy singing "Breakfast at Tiffany's", with a little cart that had puppets and stuff. Also, the entire day as I've been going around, the whole town seems to have been overrun with old people in big groups, and there are big signs and bright green flags that say "Okra" on them. I assume it's some kind of big tour company that does programs for the elderly, but they're literally everywhere, with their name tags around their neck.

I ended up going back to a little chocolate shop in the Burg for more chocolate for souvenirs and gifts, and then went back to my hotel and took a nap for a bit. I didn't wake up for a while, and then passed some time adding pictures and stuff to facebook, and didn't realise what time it was until it was already 10pm, and all the restaurants were closed. So I fell back on room service again, and ordered something called "Shrimp Croquettes". They ended up being little corn dog-shaped breaded things, with some kind of blended shrimp/sauce thing inside. There was a salad and bread (with butter this time) to go with it, which was okay, but the croquettes themselves were very meh. I also realised that I had been in Belgium and hadn't tried any beer, so I decided to try some of the "Jupiler" that they had in the minibar (which is apparently a very popular Belgian beer; thanks, Wikipedia!) ... which turned out to be kind of gross. I'm not a beer person, so I didn't really expect to like it anyway, but after a couple swallows I switched to Coke.

Around 11pm, I decided to head out and look at Bruges by night, since I hadn't gone and wandered at night before. I wasn't really worried about safety; the concierge woman had told me that Bruges is actually very safe at night, and you shouldn't have to take any more than normal common sense precautions. The reason it's safe, of course, is that there aren't any tourists, and all the people who work in the tourism industry are mostly in bed, so all you get are the odd small group or couple walking to somewhere. After the lively nightlife in Tours, I was a little surprised.

I walked down the street I'd been normally taking to get to the Markt, and took some pictures of the Cathedral of Our Lady and the Belfry. I did have a couple of guys in a firetruck stop and say something to me in Flemish; I think they were just making fun of me for being a tourist and taking pictures, so I ignored them and they went away. Then I went around, still taking my pictures and just enjoying the quiet of everything with almost no other people around. When I got back to my room, I decided to take advantage of the fact that the hotel bathroom had a tub, and I ran myself a hot bath and just relaxed with some music for a bit, before going to bed. All in all, a good ending to my Bruges experience. :)

In Which I Get Some Use Out Of That Museum Ticket

Today I had a hard time getting out of bed, for no real reason, but once I got moving I got ready quickly and had breakfast. I decided that since today's the last day of my 3-day museum pass, I should get some use out of it. So first off, I went off to try and find the Hospitaalmuseum - Memling in Sint-Jan (that translates to the Hospital Museum - Saint John's Hospital site). It was actually pretty difficult to find. I wandered through some courtyards that I'd seen before, and backtracked, and backtracked again, before finally going around a corner and it was right there. >.>

The museum is both a museum and a preserved former hospital that used to be run by nuns (who only moved out in 2005, apparently, and now live in another convent by the swan pool). So there was a kind of weird mix of hospital-specific artifacts and general art pieces. It seemed to be about one third paintings with religious themes, one third general religious items like reliquaries (so many reliquaries...) which mostly focused on Saint Ursula, and one third items specific to the hospital, like a typical nun's habit on a mannequin and tombstones for various deceased sisters. There were also a couple of other things; including Hieronymus Bosch's depiction of Judgement Day, which obviously figures in the movie. They didn't allow pictures (again...), which sucked, but now I can say I have stood in front of the painting. It wasn't in it's original place, though; it was on loan from another of the Brugge Museums while they were setting up some new exhibit. But still cool.

I also learned about Saint Ursula, whose story I didn't know. Apparently she was a Breton princess, who was supposed to be married to a barbarian prince. She consented to the marriage, but only if he would convert to Christianity and would allow her to make a pilgrimage with 10,000 virgin girls all the way to Rome and back. He agreed, and they set off to Rome. When they got there, they feasted with the Pope, they all received blessings, and he came back with them for the wedding. But on the way they were set upon by Mongol raiders and everyone was killed. One of the reliquaries apparently contained bits of Ursula and the 10,000 virgins, which seemed like a lot of dead people's bits to put in one little jar. There was also a much larger, fancier box reliquary, which had more relics.

The upstairs of the hospital is apparently a rotating modern art gallery, which had an installation exhibit focused on the theme of foundling children- babies who are abandoned by their mothers and (hopefully) found, to be raised in orphanages or foster homes or whatever. It was a very sad exhibit, and very well-done. After I looked around up there, I left the Hospital and went to my next site of the day: The Church of Our Lady of Bruges.

The church entrance is right across the street from the Hospital, so it wasn't hard to find. I wandered in, not really knowing what to expect, and you're kind of immediately funneled towards a small shrine with a statue of the Madonna and Child. It wasn't until I got closer and read the signs that I discovered it's apparently a sculpture by Michelangelo; one of the few outside Italy! I went through and took my pictures, and then went over to the part of the church that's considered a museum. My ticket got me in, after waiting forever for some couple to figure out what they were doing and then waiting for some lady who'd barged ahead of me to quit talking. Once I went through, there were lots of frescoes and carved decorations. They have a little exhibit of tombs that they excavated from beneath the floor of the church; what makes them remarkable are the paintings on the sides, both outside and in. Apparently they had found the tomb and remains of Mary of Burgundy, which was cool. They also had a couple of gorgeous stained glass windows, depicting St. George with the dragon and the Archangel Michael defeating Satan. There was a little side tomb with an interesting tessellated floor in Belgium's colours, and then you could go up to the altar, which showed where they had found the tombs and had newer tombs on top. I wandered around a bit more, and then left. The rest of the church wasn't particularly interesting. I did see a sign that made me laugh, though; they had four translations of it, and it was all pretty and attractive-looking, and I was amused because the French translation (of the exact same text) was at least twice as long as the English version. I love French, but it is not the most simplified of languages.

After the cathedral (which you can actually recognise in most of my pictures because it's the big tower that's covered in scaffolding; they're restoring it), I decided to try and find somewhere for lunch. I wandered through a lot of cool little streets with awesome shops, and finally found a little place that offered a lunch menu for 13,50 Euro; the cheapest I've found all week! It was called Salade Folle, which means "Crazy Salad", or "Crazy Lettuce". I got potage soup again for the entrée, which was decent. But what was awesome was that they gave me little dishes of cheese with my bread; I felt almost like I was back in France again! It was really delicious cheese, too. One was really spicy and the other was smooth and creamy. For my main dish I got Macaroni Carbonara, which is a pasta dish where the sauce is cooked mostly by pouring it over the hot noodles; it's a wonderfully creamy, thick, delicious white sauce. It had bacon pieces, mushrooms, and Parmesan on top, and was absolutely fantastic. I was a little sad because the plate they gave me could have easily fed two, and I couldn't finish it. But I still had the little bit of vanilla ice cream that came as dessert. :P

After lunch, I wandered back towards the hospital and cathedral in search of the Archaeology Museum. It was just around the corner, so I went in. The man in the ticket office gave me a little sheet that had a very simplified history of Bruges in English; after that point, everything written everywhere was in Flemish. It was a kind of cute little museum; had examples and details of the lives of the Flemish up to the modern day and the history of the city. The cool thing was that everything not specifically behind glass was interactive and touchable. I do, however, feel like had I been Flemish and probably about ten years old, I would've been much more enthralled; it was obviously a museum meant for children. Of course, that didn't stop me from playing with the period costumes in the costume room; some things are just always fun, and dress-up is one of them. Also, most of those things fit me anyway. >.>

When I left the Archaeology Museum, I didn't really know what to do with the rest of the day. I had thought about going to visit Our Lady of the Pottery, but I found out that it's all the way across the city, and I didn't really want to walk it, so I went around and did some shopping for souvenirs for family and stuff. I got some chocolate for myself, as well, and came back to relax for the afternoon (the chocolate is to-die-for delicious, btw. Nom nom nom...). Once again, I was still full from lunch by 10pm or so, and so I decided not to worry about dinner. This is getting to be a habit.

Bruges Two: In Which I Really Just Want A Wal-mart

Tuesday morning, I got up slightly more quickly, and after breakfast headed over to the Belfry to see if the line was shorter. When I got there, I found out that it was actually my favourite: non-existent! The Brugges Museum ticket thing I had bought before also works for the Belfry, so I showed my ticket and went up. It was mostly a lot of brick; the stairs themselves were wooden, reinforced at points with brick, and incredibly narrow. It was really hard to pass anyone coming down; someone had to wedge themselves into a corner and wait for the other person to go by. There were a couple of stopping points along the way; at one of them you could see the giant drum that rings the Carillon bells, like a giant music box drum; unfortunately the bell system is undergoing a complete overhaul that won't be finished until June, so there were no bells, and lots of construction work. When I got to the top of the 366 steps, I took a bunch of pictures of the view, and then headed back down. To be honest, I was pretty disappointed; it felt like the only reason to go up was to see the view. Maybe I've just been spoiled by amazing Gothic cathedrals, but I like architecture that's fascinating and fun to see in and of itself; so the Belfry didn't impress me.

After the Belfry, I headed off in another direction, and found a cool little museum; however, right as I was taking pictures of the pretty outside, my camera decided to tell me that the battery was dying. As I hadn't brought an adapter that my camera charger could use, I decided to go ask the hotel if they had one. So I walked all the way back to the hotel, and went to talk to the concierge. It turned out they had one for Great Britain and for (what I think was) Asia. No North America. I asked her if she knew where I could find one, and she gave me a bunch of directions. I have come to the conclusion that I cannot navigate by verbal directions, because I had no idea where to find what she pointed me to, and wandered all over the place for a while. I found a random electronics store, and they didn't have any kind of universal adapter. So I wandered more, finally found the shopping street that I think she had meant to direct me to, and little store that matched her description but appeared to be closed until July. I went on, and found a little phones-and-accessories store, and when I asked there they directed me next door, to a larger electronic supplies store. The guy there was rather gruff, and more so when he found out I was American (in this situation I didn't feel like messing with French and went straight to English), but they had one model of universal adapter that was basically exactly what I needed. It was also over 20 Euro. *sigh* So I bought it, went back to my room and plugged it and my camera in, and sat on my bed in a sour mood for a while.

Eventually, after hanging out and talking to Tim on AIM for a while, I figured it was probably charged, and went out again. I got lunch at a little restaurant next to the museum I had found before, where they had a menu for 15 Euro. My entrée was basic potage (soup) of the day, made with whatever vegetables they get in that day. The main dish was fantastic, however; thick juicy steak with a mushroom sauce (which cost extra but was worth it), fries, and a little salad. The fries were also good; the salad was a little questionable, but okay. For dessert I had profiteroles, which were okay, but not as fantastic as I've had in the past. After lunch, I headed back to the museum, this time with a charged camera.

The museum turned out to be the "Gruuthuse," where a prominent rich noble family of Bruges used to live in the Middle Ages. The house was covered in the crest and symbols of the family; it was actually really cool. They had a bunch of exhibits, most of which were religious stuff. They didn't allow pictures, which was really dumb (especially since it was the house itself that I really liked the most), but I snuck some shots of the chapel. Apparently, since their house was right next to the Cathedral of Our Lady anyway, they got permission to build a little private viewing chapel into the wall, so they could participate in mass without leaving home! I thought it was pretty cool.

After the Gruuthuse, I wandered around a bit, and did a little shopping. I found a really cool little row of shops tucked away by the Burg, and wandered through them. I had stopped to look out at the canal at one point, when a random man dressed as a musketeer (feather in his hat and all!) came up to me, said hello, and kissed my hand. It was rather bizarre, but he seemed very friendly. I was talking to him in French, and so when he asked where I was from I told him I live in Tours. He had me follow him to his little shop, which was right behind me, where he had a little camera set-up that took my picture, and printed this calendar/picture thing, that had a map of old Bruges. It was obviously a ploy to get me to pay for it, but he seemed nice, so I went with it (and it didn't turn out to be expensive, so it was okay). He was chattering on the whole time, like he never gets to talk to anybody. He also sold me a little poster case for it, which I think will come in handy for my poster of Tours, too. As we were talking, I found out that he likes to get people to send him postcards from wherever their home town is; he gave me his card (his name is Erwin, apparently), so I thought I'd send him something from Tours and maybe from Bozeman. I did end up telling him that I was originally from the States, and so we talked half in French and then in English. After a while, I made a polite excuse for having to go, and he as much as admitted that he gets lonely in his little shop, tucked away. I ended up feeling pretty sorry for him; he was fun.

After that encounter, I walked back to my hotel and just decided to relax and not let the frustrations of the day get to me. I ended up deciding that I really just wasn't hungry for dinner (I swear I eat so much at each meal when I go out, I can hardly handle it), and that I would save money by not going out, so that was my day.

In Which I Wander And Find Cool Stuff

So this morning I woke up sort of slowly, and got ready and went over to the other part of the hotel for breakfast. I was one of the last people there, so it was kind of hard to find a table that didn't have dishes and stuff on it. I got a very good little bread roll with nutella, and some yoghurt and orange juice. Then I got a map from the lady at the desk (who I found out also speaks perfect French, in addition to her perfect Flemish and English and probably German. >.>)

When I headed out, I didn't really have too much of a plan. I was headed towards the Markt, where the Belfry is, and from there I thought I'd find the Burg, which is the town's administrative center. I headed down one of the streets and right ahead of me was the Belfry! I love when the major monument of a city is really obvious and easy to find! So I followed it, passing a pretty brick cathedral on the way, and came out in the Markt. There actually wasn't much to see; there's the Belfry itself, and some pretty Gothic-style buildings that I took pictures of, and the horse-drawn carriages go through pretty constantly. I wandered on through to the inside of the Belfry, but the line was really long to go up, so I decided I'll do it another day.

When I wandered back through and found the Burg, I didn't really know what was there besides the Town Hall. I ended up taking some pictures of a random building that turned out to be a church that turned out to be the Basilica of the Holy Blood! Who knew? I went inside, took pictures, and it turned out I was just in time for the Veneration of the Relic. So I stood in the line, and went up and touched it, as you do. (Or, well; I touched the glass they lay over the reliquary inside of which is the sealed bottle containing the piece of cloth supposedly soaked with Jesus' blood.) It was supposedly collected by Joseph of Arimethea when he washed Jesus' body for burial, and was given to a Flemish Count when he was on Crusade in the Holy Land. (Historians think it was actually probably looted from a Constantinian treasure house.) After I went through the line, I went around and took a few more pictures, then went out and into the tiny basilica museum, where they have various items relating to the relic. I will say; as helpful as the occasional translation into French and English is, I still feel like I miss half of the information in those places, since it's all in Flemish. I bought a little charm from the Basilica; I'm going to use it and the little labyrinth charm I got in Chartres and start a charm bracelet! Then I went into the downstairs part of the Basilica. That part is all made of brick, with vaulted ceilings, and is basically a little prayer room.

After the Basilica, I went into the building right next door, which is the Town Hall. They have a program in Bruges where you can pay for a 1-day, 3-day, or year-long pass, and visit 16 of the major Bruges Museum sites in the city. I went ahead and got the 3-day one, which was awesome since for me (being between the ages of 12 and 25) it was only 5 Euro. The Town Hall didn't have too much stuff; the major feature was the Hall Council room, which is beautifully carved and painted, with a huge fantastic fireplace, stained glass windows, and giant murals depicting important people and events in the city's past. It was a good thing I had the audio guide, though, or I wouldn't have had any idea what any of it was.

After the Town Hall, I wandered out and through a side street going away from the Burg, which led me to one of the canals. There was a stand selling tickets for the boat rides, which give you a brief tour of the city from the water. I'd wanted to take one, so I figured why not and bought a ticket (they ended up being over 6 Euro; one of the most expensive "attractions" in Bruges!). I was in a big line of people, but the boats apparently leave every few minutes and they pack people in pretty closely. I ended up wedged between some people speaking French, and an older couple that spoke Spanish, with an American couple across the way, and the back of the boat was filled with a big group speaking Flemish. I will say, Bruges has been one of the most intercultural and interlingual experiences of my whole life! The guy doing the tour was giving commentary in Flemish, French, and English, so when I didn't catch something in the French I could usually pick it out in the English, which was nice. He was kind of a young punk; he went really fast, talked faster, and kept making all kinds of uncouth comments and jokes. When he was helping some kids into the boat at the beginning, I don't think they spoke English, because he was muttering something about "Step careful, get in, fall in, I don't give a shit" and at one point we went under a bridge where some girls (admittedly dressed rather skank-ily) were standing, and he yelled at them to come back in summer and wear skirts. Despite him, the trip was at least helpful for getting more of an orientation on the centre of the city, and he did know the script for the various things to look at. I took a lot of pictures.

When I got out of the boat, I just continued along a random street, where there ended up being a lot of restaurants and some market stalls selling jewelry, random knick-knacks, and a guy who'd done really awesome paintings in a "hyper-realistic" style, so they looked like photographs. I ended up going back to the Burg for lunch, and had moules frites! I pride myself on being able to finish an entire pot of mussels and fries. :D

After lunch, I went back out, and wandered further through the market area. There were more stalls set up farther along the canal, so I went and looked through them. I found a stall where a guy was selling what he said were Roman and medieval artifacts that a friend of his finds with a metal detector, and he makes into jewelry. I went ahead and got a necklace that's supposedly a Roman pendant with Roman glass. I don't know if it's real, but at the least it's very pretty, and I like it. Then I wandered further along the canal, and found some cool random art in a garden, next to a couple of the art museums in Bruges. One of the pieces was a set of four men on horses, meant to be the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I went through and took pictures since they looked cool, and as I was walking away, some random group of, like, 30- and 40-year-olds went by and were laughing and exclaiming because the Horsemen had obvious penises. Because immaturity is not reserved for the young, lol. I wandered around, saw some more random stuff, and ended up heading back towards my room since my feet were hurting.

I hung out in my room for a while, not doing much, and around 1oish I went out to find some dinner. Unfortunately, apparently Bruges curls up and dies on Monday evenings, because nothing was open (and it was all really expensive anyway). After wandering around for way too long trying to find somewhere to go, I finally found a little pita place, and just got a pita with fries and a drink to go, and ate them back in the room, and just stayed in for the evening.

Hallie In Bruges

I had to use this title, again, obviously, because it's not like the joke with the movie is ever going to get old. >.>

Today, I woke up, showered, dressed, and went down to eat breakfast in the hotel (I had another croissant with butter and honey, and some blackcurrant applesauce). Then I went back up to pack all of my stuff, since I had to check out. I left my luggage with the hotel, and went out to explore for my last few hours in Chartres.

The second I stepped out the door, I realised that the cathedral bells were ringing, in a just constant cacophony. They rang for at least a full half hour; from 10:30 to 11:00, calling all the people to Easter Mass. It was kind of bizarre to walk through the streets and see everyone heading in the same direction, but mostly just because I wasn't going. I wandered around and took pictures of all of the churches; it did seem like all of them had people attending, so the cathedral doesn't get everyone. I had a lot of fun on my walk; I went through little side streets and less-commercialised parts of the town. I also got to meet the first and second friendly cats I've ever met in France! I swear all the cats (in Tours, at least) are nervy and scared all the time. But I met a white-and-gray cat that let me pet him and seemed really nice, and then he wandered off and I followed after. I found him again, cornered by another gray cat, and I chilled them down. Once he'd wandered off again, I introduced myself to the gray cat, who turned out to be very nice too.

I also wandered along the river Eure for a while, which is the one that passes through part of the town. Around noon, when the church services let out, the bells started ringing again and sounded for another ten minutes. It was around then that I decided I should find somewhere to eat lunch. I went into one place that told me they were full, and most of the others were all closed. Usually things are closed on Sundays in France, and this was Easter on top of that, so it wasn't really surprising, but I was starting to get worried. Then I found an awesome little hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant, kind of hidden away on a side street. I'd actually seen them yesterday and thought about going, so I was glad to get the chance.

There were two other families there when I went in, which was a little awkward for me, being alone. The place appeared to be run by an Indian man, and a younger man who was probably his son. They were very welcoming, and I ordered the established menu. My entrée was lamb kebabs, and came with a piece of nan and three different sauces: mint, sweet banana something, and something else that was really spicy. I really liked the mint. Then my main dish was shrimp curry with basmati rice. For dessert, I got two little balls of mango sorbet, and then I finished the whole thing with a cup of tea with milk. My favourite parts were the little details; the dishes all had lotuses and red-and-gold elephants painted on them, and they brought out the bill in a little box that looked like it should be used for jewelry. But the food was really good, and the two men were friendly.

After I ate, I wandered back through town and sat for a bit in front of the cathedral, just enjoying my day. Then I went back to the hotel, got my luggage, and went over to the train station. I was about an hour early, but that was okay; the train came just as it was starting to rain, so I was able to get a good seat and get out of the weather. I discovered that the train had electrical outlets, so I was able to plug in my computer and put my pictures on it, getting them off the camera! I was kind of paranoid about having it out, though, so I put it away when we left. It was also kind of funny; I realised I'd forgotten to compost my ticket in the station, so I spent a decent amount of the trip mentally practicing my "I'm a stupid girl American; what's composting? *innocent stare*" routine. Funnily enough, though, there weren't any control people on the train; probably because of Easter. I got to Paris just fine (and apparently went through the town where Versailles is on the way), and got off at Gard Montparnasse. I've been through there before, on my way to London, so I went down to the Métro to go to Gare du Nord. I bought my ticket from the automatic machine, since I recognised the lady at the booth as being the same one from last time, and she was mean. XP

The trip to the other Gare was uneventful. When I got there I had about an hour to waste until my train was supposed to be there. I had thought about leaving my luggage somewhere and wandering in Paris for a bit, but I found out that they basically charge you for two days no matter how long you leave your stuff, and that didn't seem worth it. So I went back into the station and tried to find somewhere to sit. There weren't many places; I ended up on the back end of a round metal pole thing that I think was intended to stop trains if they come in too quickly, but at least it was a place to sit. There was a girl sitting near me reading "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand; I was intrigued, so I started talking to her. Turns out her name was Callie, she was from Spokane, Washington, and she was studying in Amsterdam! We had a pleasant little conversation while we were waiting, since our trains were leaving at the same time, and then got on our separate cars.

I was lucky enough to have no-one sitting next to me on the train, so I spread out a little and was very comfortable. It was kind of funny; they did all announcements in Flemish, then French, then German, then finally English. The first time I heard it I thought the Flemish was English and was wondering why I didn't actually understand any of what they were saying; I ended up getting my information from the French, since it was just easier, lol. They apparently have also started providing WiFi internet on the trains, which I was pretty excited about, so I plugged in my computer, turned it on, and went and bought internet for the whole trip. It wasn't long before I realised the catch; something about the way the train was going meant that the electricity would cut out every few minutes, which, of course, killed my poor battery-less computer and meant I had to restart every time. I was starting to get pretty damn frustrated with it by the time we got to Brussels; so, of course, at that point they turned off the electricity completely. *sigh* Bizarrely, though, the entire way from Brussels to Bruges the electricity behaved itself perfectly. I dunno what was up.

When I got into Bruges it was already about 9pm. I found the train information desk, and asked the man there (in English; I don't know any Flemish...) how to find the street where my hotel was. He gave me a map, and told me to go out, turn left, and go through the park. Now, I was a little worried about going through a park in a foreign city in the dark, so I kind of went around it instead, and quickly discovered I was on the wrong street. *facepalm* I eventually worked my way through to find the right street, but I came out in the middle of it, and didn't know which direction to go for the hotel. I went all the way down to one end, feeling ridiculous carrying all my luggage in one of the big shopping/restaurant districts, and finally had to go into one of the other hotels and ask. The lady there must've sensed that I was a little frazzled; she seemed a little put out that I wasn't coming to her hotel, but pointed out which direction to go. Eventually I found the Hotel/Restaurant t'Putje, and went in. It was again a little awkward, since I evidently went in the entrance for the Restaurant and not the bit where the concierge's desk is. One of the waiters pointed me in the right direction, and *finally* I managed to check in.

The lady at the desk was very sweet, though; she said that they'd been expecting me, and were starting to wonder if I was coming at all. I explained that I'd gotten lost, and how, and she agreed that it was a shame. She checked me in, and took me to my room. The Hotel apparently has parts in two different buildings; the one with the restaurant, check-in, and breakfast room, and the other with the actual rooms. She was kind enough to explain how to pronounce "Putje," which apparently means a "little well". I thought it was cute, but I'm partial to wells. I'm in Room 40, which is conveniently on the first floor. The room itself is huge; with the bathroom, it's larger than my dorm rooms at Concordia. It's got a huge bed made from two singles pushed together (with intimidating white bed linens), a minibar/refrigerator and safe, two closets with full-length mirrors, and free WiFi (although I had to call to get the code). The bathroom has a full bath, toilet, and sink, and a heater/fan that's apparently on a motion sensor and makes the whole room warm as summer. Along with the regular shampoo and shower cap, they also gave me a shoe-shining towel, a hairdryer, and two tall glass glasses, presumably for use with the beverages in the minibar. I also have enough towels to last a week; I really hope they don't change all of them every day; that would be a huge waste.

I spent a little time getting settled and chilling out from my evenings travails, and enjoying using the internet without sporadic electricity shorts. I realised at around 20 minutes to 11pm that I hadn't eaten, and didn't feel like going out and trying to find a restaurant with such a narrow window left, so I did something I've never done before: I ordered room service! Since the hotel is associated with a restaurant, they brought me some pretty fancy lasagna and a basket with, like, six big slices of bread. With that and one of the orange juices from the minibar, I ended up probably saving money and never had to leave my room. I was pretty pleased.

Anyway, it's late. Tomorrow I'm probably going to get myself a proper map and start to get oriented in Bruges. I've got five whole days to see the sights, so I'm not in too much of a rush. :)

Chartres Day Two, Part Two

I only hung out in my room for about an hour, before heading back out again on the long walk to find the Maison Picassiette, which is the second biggest site in Chartres. I didn't realise how far it was, though. I walked, and walked, and finally found a sign, and walked some more. When I checked my map, I realised that it would be faster to cut through a cemetery that's just nearby. It turned out to be several city blocks wide, though, I swear, so it was more walking until I finally came out exactly where I needed to be!

The Maison Picassiette (or Picassiette House) used to be where Raymond Isidore and his wife lived in the early to mid-1900s. He was a basic manual worker, but some passion, insanity, or inspiration drove him to cover his entire house in paintings and gorgeously complicated mosaics made from crockery, bits of glass, and other random things like shells. They don't allow pictures (which seems stupid to me; what are they protecting? They don't have a gift shop or anything), but I sneaked a couple anyway. The amazing thing is that you don't expect every single thing to be a mosaic, but it is. The sewing machine, the stove, the walls, floors, flowerpots, *everything*. A lot of it is depictions of Biblical stuff and Christian iconography, and there are also world monuments, and a whole area full of designs and models of the various sites in Chartres (he seemed particularly preoccupied with the cathedral, which he apparently visited every year on his birthday). They had a couple of records written by his wife, along with pictures and the basic history, and she said that he basically just always wanted to live surrounded by beauty and couldn't imagine why people wouldn't, and so he made that beauty himself.

The house is pretty small, and doesn't take long to circuit through, so I was done quickly and headed back to town. I went through the cemetery again on my way, and this time wandered through at leisure and took some pretty pictures. People think it's weird, but I do love cemeteries; they're peaceful, and beautiful.

When I got back to the town center, I was dog-tired and my feet were killing me from all the walking, so I went back to my hotel for a nap. That evening, I ended up deciding that between the fact that it was raining, how full I still was from lunch, and the little bit of food I had left over from my lunch on the train the previous day, I would just stay in for dinner and not worry about it. I set my alarm (properly this time) and went to bed.

Chartres Day Two: Things Start To Wind Down

This morning I planned to wake up early so that I could get over to the cathedral by the time the North Clock-Tower was supposed to open. I'd brought my alarm clock along, but I had to reset it before I went to bed since I'd taken out the batteries for traveling.

I mention this, because I ended up accidentally setting it an hour early. I woke up unawares, got showered, worked on getting myself together... and then realised that it was an hour before I had to be anywhere near ready. So, I napped a bit, and then got up and got dressed. I went down for breakfast at the hotel (which, for future reference, the convenience is probably not worth the 7 Euro). I had a croissant with some honey and applesauce and orange juice, and headed back to the cathedral.

I wanted to wear my black slacks today, but I realised when I went to put them on that the basting stitch Gramma used to hem them to my short was coming loose, and the hem was flopping around. I saw a Singer store when I was out and about yesterday, so I decided to go looking for it first. I wandered a lot, and found the apparent shopping district of Chartres, but I couldn't find the store. I did see a beautiful flower market, though, and was really tempted to buy myself some tulips (they were only 5 Euro...) but I resisted the urge. I also saw an adorable little girl who looked to be around six, walking a big brindle dog that was about as tall as she was. :)

Eventually I just headed back in the direction of the cathedral, unknowingly passing right by the Singer store without noticing. >.> There wasn't anyone at the desk where you pay to go up in the Tower, so I kind of looked around trying to find someone, before finally a guy came over. I told him I'm a student, and he kind of looked at me, and asked where I'm from. I told him, quite truthfully, that I'm living in Tours, and that got me in for free (it's only supposed to be free for EU students, ages 18-25, but I *do* study in Tours, so I wasn't *technically* lying). ;P

The staircase up to the Tower was intense. It took ages to climb, and was very narrow and twisting. There were little arrow-slit style windows, so I took pictures as I went up. About halfway up the tower they let you out onto a little walkway just under the roof. I assume that's to help with traffic flow, since it'd be hard to pass by people, and also to give people a break from the climb. When you get up to the top, it lets out in two directions, and you can go all the way around. I took a billion pictures of gargoyles and carvings and other Gothic amazingness. The wind was really strong; a couple times I thought the whole tower was going to blow away, and me with it! My hair was a mess, but whatever; the view was fantastic! Apparently on a clear day you can see all the way to the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Unfortunately it's been really wet and rainy so it was cloudy, but it still seemed like you could see forever. Again, though, the passages were incredibly narrow. After a while I went back down; I looked at my phone when I headed down and figured out that it took over 5 minutes of straight descending to finally get to the bottom.

After the climb I was surprisingly drained and my legs were shaking; I checked out that the Crypt tour was at 11am, and went outside to eat a candy bar I had in my purse, then hung out in the nave until the guy showed up to take us on the tour. We went outside, since the Crypt is accessed from there, and down beneath the cathedral. Apparently the Chartres cathedral crypt is one of the biggest in the world, and runs a complete circuit beneath the church. We got to see the oldest part of it, where the walls and the foundations of the church date back to the Merovingian and Carolingian kings. There's also a well at one point whose foundations go back to the Celts; it's believed that the cathedral stands on the site of an ancient Druidic holy site that used to be the capital of the whole region and was mentioned in the diaries of Julius Cesar. Then we went into the Roman part of the crypt, which is covered with ancient frescoes. They tried to uncover and restore the frescoes, without much success, so there's not a lot to look at. We also got to see the reliquary containing the second existing portion of the Veil of the Virgin Mary; apparently it was split up into six pieces in the Middle Ages and divided between various lords. The two pieces in the cathedral are the only two to be recovered. They've been scientifically tested and positively identified as being from Palestine and about 2000 years old, so who knows? There's also a statue of the Virgin that is one of the few to show the transition between the Celtic religion and Christianity; it shows her seated, with her eyes closed and Jesus on her lap. A similar seated goddess with children and closed eyes was venerated by the Celts, which is one reason why the Virgin was used to smooth the introduction of early Christianity. Apparently the Cathedral in Chartres was one of the very first to ever be dedicated to Mary.

After the tour, the guide told us a little about the labyrinth (which I already knew about) and about "St. Jacques' Nail," which is apparently a big nail driven into the floor of the cathedral which corresponds to a pane of white glass in a nearby window. At noon on the summer solstice, the light comes through the glass and shines directly on the nail's head. Our guide said that scientifically it was probably a way to keep their calendars consistent. But there's also apparently some kind of festival that still goes on in the South that has to do with people carrying around torches for Saint Jacques; I didn't really understand the specifics, but he said that the nail might have something to do with that, too.

After I visited the Crypt, I decided to go find that Singer store and get myself some needles and thread. I felt dumb when I realised that I'd just passed right be it before, but I managed to get what I needed. I was also really tempted by some pretty yarn, but I managed to restrain myself. Then I went to find somewhere to eat lunch, and found a Moroccan restaurant, "Le Table au Sud". They had a meal (entrée + main dish) for 13 Euro, which was why I went in, but then the lady told me that it wasn't available on Saturdays. *sigh* I went ahead and just ordered what I had chosen off of the regular menu. My entrée was a "Délice Chevre," which was goat cheese wrapped in some pastry thing with sauces to eat with it. It was really good, although kind of difficult to eat. Then she brought out my Couscous Maison; and kept bringing out food until my eyes about fell out of my head in surprise. There was a heaping dish of couscous, a big bowl of vegetables in soup, another dish of chicken and sausage, and a little dish of chickpeas, white raisins, and some sort of spicy red sauce. They were all table dishes; you serve yourself from them. Even if I hadn't had an entrée I don't think I wouldve been able to get halfway through all the food... it was incredible. I ate until I felt like I would explode, then finally told the waitress I was done. I tottered back to my hotel room to lie down for a bit, hoping it would digest away some.

Once Again Out and About

So, I haven't updated in ages, mostly because I haven't been doing too much that's obviously exciting. I don't really go out much anymore (with just the girls and their boyfriends, it's started to pall...), but I have been hanging out with Giovanni, the guy from my Greek class, and his friends. It's fun, and he's starting to teach me some guitar! I've learned the chords C, D, E, F, G, A, A minor, and B7, and I can do a simple chord progression. It's really not much, but I've never really worked on learning, so it's fun. I got sick, I've been getting better, and I've had classes, obviously. This week was the last week of class, and then we have two weeks of break before Finals, and then my family is coming to visit me here and we're going to have a blast before I go home! It's approaching incredibly quickly; I'm excited to go back, but I'm really feeling good about being here too.

Anyway, for our two weeks of vacation I'm going to Chartres, Bruges, and eventually Carnac. It's not overly adventurous, but I ended up doing it all myself, so I feel like it's very much *my* trip. This morning, I didn't go to our last Écrit/Orale class because I had to catch the train to bring me here to Chartres. Chartres is famous for having one of the most beautiful Gothic cathedrals in existence, and not much else. It's a really small town, with a couple other sites peppered around to make staying here for a day or three more feasible. The Chartres cathedral is also well-known for having a huge stone labyrinth paved into the floor of the nave, which was my personal reason for coming. They clear the chairs away on Fridays so that people can walk the labyrinth, so I was hoping it would work out. Unfortunately it's also Good Friday this weekend, which I hadn't thought about, but I'll get to that.

I took the train from Tours to Le Mans this morning and transferred trains there to come to Chartres. I had bought a sandwich and had some juice for my lunch while I was on the train; it ended up actually being surprisingly crowded. I also had my ticket checked on both trains, which almost never happens usually. When I got to Chartres, the first thing was to find my hotel. I'd specifically picked one that was close to the train station, and also not far from the cathedral. So close, in fact, that I walked out of the station and barely started down the road in front of it when I saw the hotel on my right. It's called the Hôtel Jehan de Beauce, which is the name of the street. Their main attribute is their location. I checked in and everything (my first time doing all this on my own! I was excited!) and went up to my room. It's really small, but that fits me pretty perfectly. I dropped off my luggage and took my purse and my camera and went to find the cathedral. The hotel gave me a guidebook/map, so I had some idea of where I was going.

Which turned out to be a moot point anyway, since I walked down the street and saw the cathedral instantly. It really dominates the town; you can see it from everywhere. I easily made my way over there; like I said, Chartres is *really* small. When I went in the cathedral itself, they were in the middle of Good Friday services. This was less intimidating than it could've been; they were walking around the nave, stopping at various points and praying. One woman gave me a paper that had the various stopping points and the basic prayer for each one, so I ended up just following and watching the procession. It was interesting in that I was probably the youngest person there by a couple decades; there were maybe four or five kids in the whole group, but I didn't see them until later. Each time they stopped represented a specific part of the crucifixion of Jesus; the three times he fell on his way to the mountain, the time a woman wiped the sweat away from his face, when he actually died, when they took his body down from the cross, those kinds of things. I did surprise myself with how much I was able to follow what the priests were saying; and I did pick out the Lord's Prayer (obviously it was all in French). After the procession, they gathered around the altar for more prayer, and I walked around to see the church itself. I took a lot of pictures of the choir screen, which was incredibly beautifully carved. It was also interesting because the carvings in the shrines were all covered with purple cloths, presumably out of reverence for the day. I was very disappointed in my timing, however; because it's Good Friday, they had all of the chairs out in the nave, covering the labyrinth, so I didn't get to walk it. I still took a few pictures, but I was sad.

I went outside again, and walked around the cathedral, taking pictures of the architecture and the area. It was already late enough that everything would've been closed, so I just wandered around the town and looked at things. It was sunny and beautiful, and just a really pleasant walk. When I headed back towards the hotel, it was getting cloudy and started to rain, so I was glad I'd brought my umbrella. I spent a while relaxing and settling into the hotel room a bit, while I was waiting for the restaurants to open for dinner (most places in France don't serve dinner until 7:30pm at the absolute earliest).

There's a restaurant literally just next door to my hotel that a lot of people recommended when I was looking into visiting Chartres, so I figured I'd try it. It's called "017," and while it's not exactly formal or über-fancy, it is definitely a more upscale place. I went in about 8:20, and was only the second person there. I got a glass of rosé wine and a carafe of water to make it last, and then they gave me ample time to look over the menu. The thing about French waiters is that they expect you to take your time, and to relax and converse with people when you go out to eat. The fact that I was by myself made that a little superfluous, but I went ahead and glanced through my little map guide and started planning what I'm going to do tomorrow. Eventually a different waiter came over. He turned out to be fun; when he caught my accent, he said "Oh, you speak English!" and went to go and get the other waiter (who, I found out when she was talking to a British couple that came in later, does speak limited English). I quickly assured him that no, I spoke French too! It was funny.

I got seafood in a curry sauce for my entrée; it was really good, flavourful but not too spicy, with mussels and calamari and all the kinds of ocean creatures I love to eat. For the main dish I basically just picked something that had a Provençal sauce, and it turned out to be a white fish with pasta. It was pretty good; not heart-stopping, but decent. I did decide over the course of my meal that I wouldn't mind making a habit of having a glass of wine with dinner; it was a really good rosé (and this is coming from me, whose palate is so untrained that almost all wine tastes too strong). The fantastic thing, however, was the dessert. Everything was plated very prettily (with random pine sprigs in, for some reason), but my fondant au chocolat was beautiful. I posted a picture on facebook, but it was basically a little chocolate cake with a gooey chocolate center and a little ball of ice cream on top, and there was a little pitcher dish full of cream to pour over it. I practically swooned, it was so delicious. It pretty much wouldn't have mattered at that point if the rest of the dinner had been gross, I was so enamoured with the fondant. When I'd finished, the waiter came to take the plate and caught me nabbing one last taste with my finger, and I assured him that it was perfect. When I had gotten the check and was about to leave, he shook my hand and welcomed me back again.

Then I came back to my room and stretched out on the bed, contentedly full, fat, and purring. I uploaded pics to facebook and wanted to write this before I forgot, but now I'm going to go to bed. I'm getting up early to see things tomorrow! :)

Train Fail

Saturday was my last day in London, so I got up early so that I could experience the one thing I had missed so far: Westminster Abbey. I managed to get down to the Westminster Tube station without any problems and got my ticket to go inside the Abbey. They don't allow photography, but I got an audio guide and wandered around (I was very surprised to hear Jeremy Irons introduce himself as the voice of the audio guide, but it was also pretty awesome). I also went up into the Shrine of King Edward the Confessor. It's not open to general tourism, but they let small groups inside for prayer sessions led by one of the priests. I mostly just wanted to see the shrine, so I pretended. The Abbey itself was beautiful, of course. My favourite part was the Poet's Corner, where they have tombs and memorials to various writers (including Shakespeare, Lewis Carrol, Robert Browning, and a dozen others, including my favourite: W.H. Auden). I did sneak a couple pictures (like one of Edmond Halley's memorial) before I left, and wound my way out through the ever-present souvenir shop. I figured I had left with just enough time to get back to Katie's house, finish throwing my stuff together, and come back in to the train station.

Unfortunately, it didn't prove to be that easy. When I got back to Totteridge & Whetstone, the only trains arriving were going on the wrong track (via Charing Cross rather than via Bank, which was what I needed). Without any other real choice, I got on the train anyway, and figured I'd get off and switch trains at some point. Unfortunately, no good opportunity presented itself until I got to Euston station, which is huge, and I switched to the Victoria line to get to King's Cross/St. Pancras. By the time I got there, I had basically figured that I would be late, but I ran through the station anyway, hoping. I managed to get there right as the train was departing, and felt like I was going to cry from running through stations, freaking out, and having it confirmed that my train had, indeed, already left.

The people at the Eurostar were fantastic, however. They took pity on me, and the first guy I talked to wrote on my ticket that I had showed up about five minutes earlier, to give me a little more leeway, and sent me to the ticket office. The guy there did some checking around and managed to get me a seat on the next train, when I explained that I hadn't known when I was supposed to be there and had been late. I kind of suspect that he thought I was younger than I am, judging from the way he spoke to me, but I wasn't about to complain. He told me that since I would miss my connection in Paris, I would have to talk to the SNCF people directly and try to get on the last train of the night. But to help me more, he put a "magic stamp" (his words) on the ticket that basically said that I missed my connection because of another train, not through my own fault. That wasn't technically true, but he gave me the stamp anyway to be nice.

Going through security went fairly quickly, and I got my second train-travel passport stamp. When I got to the Eurostar lobby, the train for Lille was boarding, so I sat down to wait. It was then that I experienced the most bizarre thing: while I was sitting there, they were reading announcements in both French and English. And when I heard the French, a huge wave of relief washed over me, and I felt almost weak. I hadn't realised until that point just how draining it was to constantly listen to British English. As much as I love the language and watch the BBC and was looking forward to London, the entire time I was there I felt somewhat distanced. In France, my accent might show me to be a foreigner, but I still feel included in the culture and language and am still accepted so long as I try to speak French. But in England, although American English was certainly suitable for communication, I still felt like and proved myself to be an outsider every time I opened my mouth.

Maybe it was just the exhaustion from running and stressing and the relief of being on a train - any train! - back to France, but my strange euphoria just increased every time I heard French, spoke French, and even when I used Euros to buy myself a simple dinner on the train. (The Eurostar has two "dining" cars; I got a BLT sandwich, a bag of chips, and an Orangina.) The seat next to me was empty, so I put up the arm rest and curled up across both seats to sleep for a good chunk of the trip, and also started organising my receipts and figuring out just how much my London adventure had cost me.

We got to the Paris Nord train station at the exact time the train I was supposed to take was leaving from Paris Austerlitz, so there was no hope of me catching it. So I took my time getting to the Métro and crossing Paris. I found myself loving almost everything I encountered: the ever-so-distinctive smell of Paris, the fact that the people I saw ignored me, that the Métro itself was dirty and the cars were old, the brief glimpse I saw of the Eiffel Tower all lit up for the night, and the little theme song that plays on constant loop in every SNCF train station. When I found the platforms at Austerlitz I went and talked to the man in the information booth. Without hardly looking at me he told me that it would be perfectly fine if I took the last train to Tours; I think the fact that I mentioned the stamp might have had something to do with it! I settled in on one of the seats in the station and prepared to wait the three hours until 10pm, when the train would leave. Fortunately, I had a book.

When the platform for the train was finally displayed on the board, I made my way over there. Unlike almost every other time I've taken the train in France, they had set up barriers and were actually checking people's tickets before they let them go on the train. The man glanced at my ticket, seeming confused for a moment, but when I explained briefly he nodded and let me through. By this point I was cold, exhausted, and wanting nothing more than a bed I could call mine. I kept myself awake by reading on the way to Tours, and finally arrived sometime between 12:30 and 1am. Then I dragged myself and my luggage back to the house, still kind of euphorically pleased by things as simple as French drivers' respect for pedestrians and the fact that I knew where I was going without thinking. I managed to find my keys after a panicked moment of not remembering where I'd put them, and unpacked just enough to be comfortable before I snuggled into my bed.

It's not quite home, but for that night, it was close enough.

The Queen's Guard and the Cold

Friday morning I got up fairly early and headed out to Buckingham Palace to watch the Changing of the Guard. I went to the Green Park Tube station, which meant that I had a decently long walk through Green Park in order to find the Palace. It was pretty, though, and nice and tranquil. When I got to the Palace, it was around 10am, but there were still a few other people wandering around, taking pictures, and claiming spots by the fence. I found a spot just to the right of the main gate, and stayed there for the 1 1/2 hours until the actual ceremony started. It was actually really cold, and my boots were still a little damp from the rain Thursday night, so it was kind of miserable. The people with young children kept fussing over them, and everyone was really cold while we waited.

I had a really good spot, though; right up by the fence, so I could take pictures through the bars. The ceremony itself was both more and less interesting than I expected. The Guards weren't the typical red-coated, fuzzy-black-hat-wearing ones you expect to see. The Old Guard had the hats, but grey coats, and the New Guard was completely different. They marched in, and there was a lot of marching and forming up and walking around and shouting orders. Then the two bands played, and that was my favourite part. The first band (the Old Guard's band) played the theme from Star Trek, some jazz piece that I recognised but couldn't name, and the theme from Star Wars. Then the New Guard's band played a bunch of songs from Les Misérables, in a kind of mini-medley thing. Then the Old Guard band played St. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, and the New Guard's band finished with a bunch of songs from Mamma Mia. It really surprised me; I was expecting the bands to play "God Save the Queen," or something, and certainly not ABBA! I did really enjoy it though, since both bands were really good.

After they played there was a bit more marching and formation, and then the Old Guard's band, the Old Guard, the New Guard's band, and half of the New Guard marched away, and the rest of the New Guard (apart from the four that had already taken up their posts guarding the doors while I wasn't watching) marched away back to wherever the rest of the company hangs out. After the ceremony was over, I took a few more pictures and walked towards Victoria for lack of anywhere else I knew of to find something to eat. I was freezing still, so I ducked into the Queen's Gallery Shop, and wandered around, looking at stuff and warming up a bit.

Along my way, I also found a centre for the Girl Guides of the UK, which was a fun coincidence! The Girl Guides are basically the UK version of America's Girl Scouts, and seeing as I was a Girl Scout all the way through high school, I of course had to check it out! It was basically just a store selling stuff for girls who are Guides, but the groups of various girls standing around and the general atmosphere brought me back... it was kind of fun.

When I got to Victoria I was absolutely starving, so I decided to go to an actual restaurant and get actual food. In the food court on the top level there was a restaurant called Garfunkel's, so I went there and got a chicken wrap sandwich and some lemonade. The lemonade was kind of strange, since it was less like squeezed lemons and more like flavoured water, but it wasn't bad. The sandwich was a little dry, but the fries that came with it were good, and I was really hungry anyway. I was far too full for dessert, so I just asked for the bill. And when I glanced at the dessert menu while I was waiting I was glad that I was full; almost every thing on there was about 5 pounds by itself; way too expensive for me!

Afterward, I took the Tube to try and find the Museum of London, which has free admission and basically goes over the history of the city itself. It was difficult to find, as I was beginning to discover everything not marked by a specific Tube station was. Eventually I got there, and wandered around inside. It was decently interesting; a lot of cool artifacts and history. It did seem to be somewhat geared towards kids, and the hordes of childlings wandering around inside did nothing to quell that suspicion. After I'd looked at it, I figured I would just barely have enough time, if I hurried, to see the British Museum.

If I had thought the Museum of London was hard to find, the British Museum was ridiculous. I ended up walking around in circles three or four times, and all about a block away from the entrance. I ended up going in the back entrance, since that was the one I found, and it steered me straight into an exhibit of Islamic ceramics and pottery. Since that was not exactly my area of interest, I ended up following the signs in the stairwell all the way up to the top, where there were Egyptian artifacts and mummies. From there, I wandered through into Ancient Near East stuff, including some Greek and Roman artifacts. It was a lot of fun, because a few times I came across things that I had studied in my Art History class, and I liked the chance to get to see them in person. I was really excited by the Greek vases; I managed to find the one depicting Ajax and Achilles playing a backgammon-esque game, and took a bunch of pictures. Since that was my favourite amphora in class, it made me really happy. I also saw some other fun stuff, like statues of gods, various mummified animals, and a phalloi/herme in the shape of a wind chime. Unfortunately, the museum was closing soon, so I had to leave before I'd seen very much.

When I left, the sun was going down and it was going to be night soon. I hadn't yet just gone and walked along the Thames and seen the sights to see, so I went to Embankment station, walked across the bridge there, and then walked up by the London Eye and the Aquarium. There was a beautiful carousel, and everything was lit up and gorgeous. I took a bunch of pictures, although being as it was night not all of them turned out. I walked back across at the Westminster Bridge, where there was a bagpiper busking in the middle of the bridge. You could hear him all the way back at the Eye, but I really enjoyed listening to him. I gave him what money I had left in pounds, since I knew I'd be leaving the next day. Then I went back by Big Ben, got on the Tube at Westminster station, and went back up to Katie's house. I got some more dinner at that little Waitrose grocery store, and started the process of packing up all my souvenirs and clothes so that I would be ready to leave the next day.

Rain, Ravens, and A Round Theatre

This morning, I was planning on getting up very early and heading out so that I could be at the Tower of London right around when they opened. That... didn't so much happen. Grant was debating coming with me; his Mini U.N. stuff starts today, so he didn't know if he'd be busy; but he decided to sleep in instead. When I stepped outside, however, it was already starting to rain. I was very glad today that I had my umbrella to hand.

The Tube trip down to the Tower Hill stop also took a lot longer than I was hoping. They were having problems with various lines; there had been signaling problems on the Central line, and so Circle and District (the only two that service Tower Hill) were both suffering severe delays and I had a heck of a time figuring it out. Finally I got there, just after 10. Walking over to the Tower itself was like swimming with all the rain, so once I had bought my ticket I decided to eat something and dry out a bit before going into the Tower itself. There's a company I keep seeing around London called "Eat.", and they had a store in the little shopping complex just outside the Tower. I got a chicken, tomato, and pesto sandwich, which was really good. There were green lettuce-y type leaves and pine nuts and it was very well done. Then I went over and got in line to go in. The thing about being in London right now, though, is that everyone is on vacation from school, not just me. The entire place was swarming with people.

I went inside, and started with the walkway and the walls. I basically went in and out of several towers along the outside walls, and took lots of pictures. One tower had a replica of the king's bed (which made me feel right at home, after Chenonceau and Amboise!), one had various English monarch's crowns (with all the jewels removed, or with paste replicas), one had examples of weaponry the Tower Guards would've used and talked a little about when the peasants revolted and stormed the Tower (remarkably, the only time it had ever been breached). When I descended down into the inner courtyard, the first place I went was the House of Jewels, where the real Crown Jewels of England are kept. It was very tightly secured (as you can imagine). They don't allow photographs inside, but it was absolutely marvelous. Everything was sumptuous and brilliant (literally) and beautiful. I don't think I've even imagined of so many gems in one place at the same time. After I left there, I wandered around some more. I saw the place where Anne Bolyn and many others were beheaded. I saw the various graffiti on the walls where people had been kept prisoner. I had to search around a bit, but I eventually found the torture exhibit (ironically not in the Bloody Tower), which turned out to just be a Scavenger's Daughter, a Rack, and a set of Manacles. It was still pretty cool, though, and considering how many kids were around, I thought it was really tastefully done.

The thing that I got really excited about, though, and the thing I was not leaving the Tower without seeing, were the ravens. It is said that if the Tower Ravens ever leave the Tower, then England will fall. So, they keep the requisite six around, plus a seventh, just in case. They do clip the birds' wings, though, so there's no real chance of them just flying away. They also have a little caged enclosure where three of them were hanging out. I saw one sitting on a wall first, quite a bit away from the cages. He was watching people go by and talking to them and making noises and I took a bunch of pictures. Then I went over by the cages, where there were three enclosed and three more just walking around outside. I took a bunch more pictures; ravens are really very photogenic birds. When I counted later, I ended up with 25 pictures of just those seven birds.

I ended up spending over three hours in the Tower of London, and enjoyed every minute. Eventually, though, I did manage to see it all, and so I headed back to the Tube. It was raining really hard by then, and all the walking around meant that my feet and the bottoms of my pants were getting really wet. I had some more problems with the Tube when I tried to get to Mansion House, which the internet had told me was about a ten minute walk from Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. I found Mansion House alright, but then had more problems trying to figure out how to get to the Globe itself. There was construction in the middle of the roads, so I walked up and down and around and crossed the streets where there were no lights (a very dangerous thing in London). Every once in a while I came across a map that pointed the way to the river, and eventually I got to the bank.

From the bank, I could actually see the Globe, finally; and I could see the footbridge that would let me get to it. At that point, it was just a matter of getting to the bridge and crossing. I also passed St. Paul's Cathedral, which is on the opposite side of Millennium Bridge from the Globe, and I decided I'd have to take pictures after.

The Globe itself was pretty cool; I didn't know much about the actual building, so I learned a lot. I bought my ticket and just glanced briefly at the exhibits before my tour started. The guy took us inside the theatre itself, sat us in the seats, and talked to us for a while. I really got the impression from him that the only way to fully experience the Globe is to see a performance there. I was kind of sad, since by the time they're doing shows I'll be going back home, so even if I wanted to come back I wouldn't be able to. He told us that the Globe itself is a reconstruction, not built even on the exact site of the old one (which is now apparently covered by a pub). It's an educated guess of what the building would've looked like, based on what we know of the two sister theatres, the Rose and the Swan. It is also the third Globe; the first one was burned down in a fire during a performance, when they shot off a cannon (sans cannonball) and a piece of cloth from the explosion set the thatched roof on fire. Fortunately, no-one was hurt, and the worst casualty was a bottle of beer that a man used to douse his pants when they had caught on fire. It was rebuilt, and still very successful, until the Puritans took over London and it was shut down by Parliament. For all that it is mostly educated guesswork, they took great pains to make it as true to the spirit of the original as possible. It is the first fully wooden building with a thatched roof since the Great Fire of London, and was made using techniques and materials from Shakespeare's time. After the tour, I wandered through some more and saw the exhibits, which included live demonstrations of woodworking, stage combat, and Elizabethan costuming.

When I left the Globe, I went back across the Millennium Bridge to St. Paul's Cathedral. I didn't go inside, mostly because I didn't want to spend the money, but I did take a lot of pictures of the outside and some cool stuff around it. Then I realised that I didn't actually have pictures of Wyndham's Theatre, where I'd seen "An Inspector Calls," so I went back there, took the pictures, and headed home. It was about then (well on to 4 or 5 pm) that I realised I hadn't eaten all day apart from the sandwich at the Tower. So when I got to Totteridge and Whetstone (the Tube station closest to Katie's house) I decided to go to a grocery store and buy some dinner. I also stopped by a flower stall and got them a bunch of tulips as a thank-you for letting me stay this week.

When I left the grocery store, however, the fairly constant rain had turned into a veritable downpour. I fought my way through the flood to get back, and was very happy to change my wet shoes, socks, and pants and warm up again. Katie and Allan were there, so I talked with them for a while and then they went to dinner and I stayed and ate the one I had just bought. While they were gone, Grant called. He had accidentally left his passport in their scanner when he made copies for his hostel stay, and needed to come back out to grab it. Right when he got out here, Katie and Allan returned as well, so we talked for a while.

The rest of my evening has been spent relaxing and catching up on the internet, which I have not really had time to check the past couple of days. Now, I am off to bed once more. Tomorrow: Westminster, Buckingham Palace, and hopefully the Changing of the Guard!

Stones, Sheep, Splendid Sights

I didn't get a chance to recap yesterday, so I'll start with that! Grant and I woke up early in the morning, to try and go to Westminster Abbey when it opened. Unfortunately we were a little slower to get moving than we'd hoped (and I also had some trouble with the shower curtain rod; I didn't know where else to hang my towel to dry, but it fell down...) and took our time getting into town. We went along the Thames and by Parliament, and took bunches of pictures of Big Ben and stuff. By the time we got to the Abbey itself, we'd have only had an hour or so to look around before we'd have to leave, so we glanced at St. Margaret's Church nearby and took pictures, and then headed down Victoria to find the hotel where we were supposed to meet our tour bus to go to Stonehenge.

It turned out that Victoria is a *very* long street, full of shopping and restaurants and things to see. We made it down to Victoria Station, which is basically a giant mall as well as a Tube and bus station, and had to ask directions to finally find the Grosvenor Victoria Hotel. It's pronounced "GRAHV-ner," apparently; and people say French has too many silent letters! Once we knew where it was, we still had a while before we had to be there to meet the bus. We got some Subway for lunch in the Victoria mall thing, because it was decently inexpensive, then Grant and I split up to wander and do some shopping. I picked up a couple of pretty pashmina scarves and walked back up Victoria to find a little street market we'd passed before. The boots I bought in Tours are already starting to wear out from all the walking we do all the time, so I bought a new pair for when they completely fall apart.

At 12:30, Grant and I met up back at the Grosvenor Hotel. We were waiting for a while, and ended up talking to a couple of women from Connecticut who were also waiting for the tour. Finally the bus showed up, they checked our names and we got on, and we were off! It seemed to take forever to leave London, and then it was about an hour and a half's drive to get to Stonehenge. Grant and I both fell asleep, and it was really cold in the bus, so my nose was numb when we got there.

The first thing they kept pointing out were the barrow mounds that apparently are really common around that area. We saw lots of them before finally entering the site itself. Everyone tells you that Stonehenge is a lot smaller than they expected. Maybe because I've heard that so often, I wasn't actually surprised at all. It was a gorgeous day for photography, and I took countless pictures. I also took lots of general pictures of the English countryside, and the flocks of sheep that were right nearby. The crowds of tourists (of which I was obviously one) kind of ruined any mystery the site might have had, though. Also the audio guide didn't really tell me anything I hadn't heard before. Still, it was an experience just to walk around and see a monument that old and that puzzling, and I'm very glad I went. It also didn't hurt that what must have amounted to several murders of crows apparently lived there, and you could see them occasionally wheeling around and being ominous. On our way out we touched the blue stone and sarsen stone that they set up at the exit; the blue stone is supposed to be warm to the touch no matter the weather. I couldn't really tell too much of a difference, except that the sarsen seemed to leech away my body heat the way sitting on concrete does, and the blue stone didn't at all.

Then, we were back on the bus, and back to London. Grant and I hadn't officially planned anything after the 'henge, but we figured we might as well go around and see some more things, since we could. We went to Trafalgar Square and took pictures, and got some souvenir stuff. I, of course, as a self-respecting Neil Gaiman fan who adores the book "Neverwhere," had to find myself a "Mind the Gap" t-shirt. We also stopped by Piccadilly Circus and took more pictures, and then since we were there we decided to indulge our inner twelve-year-old. We took the Piccadilly Line all the way to Cockfosters at the end, took pictures, and rode back. When we got to King's Cross we realised there was another important sight to find: Platform 9 3/4! So we got off, and went to find it. Unfortunately it's kind of hidden away; they've put up a sign and installed a cart stuck halfway through the wall, but we had to ask one of the employees to point out the way. He was kind of funny; when we asked, he scoffed a little and said "Oh, you don't really want to see that, do you?" We kind of looked at each other, laughing, and said "Yeah!" Maybe you weren't eleven when the books came out, guy, but we were!

After our various photo ops, we finally got back on the Northern Line and came back to Katie and Allan's house. It ended up being almost midnight when we got there, so we paused long enough to check facebook and fell into bed.

European Public Transit Has Earned My Love Forever

Today, I finally started my adventure in London! Yesterday was spent in a rush of finalising plans, information, tickets, packing, etc, and then this morning Grant and I woke up bright and early so that we could leave the house by 6:30am. We had to walk down to the Gare (the train station), and our train was leaving at 7:06am.

We ended up being about 15 minutes early, and found the train easily enough. When we got on and sat down at first, though, the lights were out in the car. It was kind of creepy and weird, so Grant checked it out and we moved down to a different car. That one had little eight-seat compartments rather than the usual seats, so the two of us took a car together, put up the arm rests, and mostly slept on our way to Orléans. It was kind of funny; at one point when we were both almost asleep and the train was going decently fast, a TVG passed us going the opposite direction and it sounded like a dragon howling past right by our heads! Grant screamed, and we both bolted straight up! We were a little confused about what the train was doing when we sat in Orléans for a long time, and a couple of women joined us in our car since the train was filling up more. Getting to Paris was pretty uneventful, except that we were about 12 minutes late; which is unheard of in the French train systems.

Once in Gare Austerlitz in Paris, we found the Métro to take us to Gare du Nord, where we were going to catch the Eurostar. We were briefly above ground, and managed to see the tops of the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame, but that was the extent of our Parisian experience. I'm really going to have to go back; I missed it even just from the Métro itself.

The Gare itself wasn't that hard to navigate, although I hadn't really thought about the security necessary since we were going to another country. We had to fill out a card for non-UK residents. Then we got our passports stamped by the French border patrol (my first passport stamp with a train on it!) and had to talk to the British border patrol about 5 feet further on. The X-ray and stuff was ridiculously simple, and then we were through to the boarding lobby. Grant had had some kind of mix-up with his ticket and was scheduled to be on the 12:13 train rather than the 11:13 with me, but we talked to the desk and they got him on the earlier train, although not in the same car. I was in Carriage 1, the very first on the train. There were a couple of French girls sitting beside and across from me, a British girl across diagonally, and there was a Spanish couple with their two young boys across the aisle. The father was cute; he kept trying to mind the two boys, calling them "mi amor" and stuff.

The Eurostar was pretty nice, as trains go. Grant and I both realised that when we didn't know whether we'd crossed the Channel yet all we had to do was see which way people were driving on the freeways. I was expecting the Chunnel to be more of a big deal, but it was basically just a long black tunnel; I honestly didn't even notice we were through until I looked up from my book and everything was grey and misty and *so* typically obviously England. The Eurostar was also about 15 minutes late (we had bad luck, I guess), but we still managed to get out of the St. Pancras station, cross over and find King's Cross, and meet up with my Aunt Roxanne's friend Katie in front of the appointed Burger King. Grant and I both got some British pounds from the ATM, got some lunch (mmm, traditional pasty with beef and potatoes and onions...), and went with Katie to the Underground.

Katie is American, but her new husband Allan is from Scotland and works in the Royal Air Force, so she moved to London after their wedding. She very graciously agreed to let me and Grant spend a few days with her during our vacation, and she seems to be purely adorable and sweet. I went ahead and bought a 7-day pass for the Underground, since I'm planning to ride it everywhere the whole few days I'm here, and it's just simpler. Katie showed us how to take the Northern Line (which is actually one of the more confusing, since it splits and meets up and splits again) up to her house. It's an adorable little two-bedroom apartment (I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom and Grant agreed to take the air mattress in the living room) where there's apparently mixed civilian and military housing. We also got to meet Mazzie, who is Katie's wiener-dog mutt. I'll have to take pictures of her before I leave, because she is adorable.

After dropping off our luggage and settling in a bit (and I changed, because it was pouring down rain and I was soaked), the two of us headed off on our own again to see a little bit of the city. We went to Embankment, which is right on the bank of the Thames, and took brief little pictures of the London Eye and Big Ben. The main reason I wanted to go was to see Cleopatra's Needle, which is an Egyptian obelisk that was taken from Egypt when the British defeated Napoleon and now sits in the center of London. We took a couple pictures, but it was very cold and rainy, so we quickly headed back down into the Tube. We went up to the theatre district, near Leicester Square. On Monday we'd decided that it would be fun to see a show, but before it began we walked around a bit. It was amazing to see all the lights and posters for all the various shows that are playing: Lion King, Phantom of the Opera, Wicked, Les Misérables, Billy Elliot, and a hundred others.

For dinner we decided on a little Italian restaurant. It was really small and close, but cute. Grant got a pizza, and I had Penne Marco Polo, which was penne pasta with duck and mushrooms in a plum sauce. It was really, really good, and really sweet, which was interesting. I also tried something called Fruitisa, which was some sparkling pomegrante juice, and that was okay. What absolutely made the restaurant, though, was the dessert. We split a piece of cheesecake with red berries and sauce on top, and it was absolutely the lightest, sweetest, most heavenly piece of cheesecake I have ever tasted; and the berries were sweet and tart and added just the right touch of flavour.

After dinner, we headed back towards the Wyndham's Theatre, which was where our show was. The website had said that you come out of the Tube station and the theatre was right there, and they weren't lying; you could basically walk 5 steps from the station awning to the theatre awning without even getting wet! The show we went to see was called "An Inspector Calls," and is a British play about a well-off British family whose dinner party is interrupted by a strange Inspector Goole, who shows up and starts asking questions in regard to the suicide of a working-class girl, Eva Smith. We had considered going to something more well-known, but a friend of mine who's in theatre told me that the best thing to do in London was to see British theatre, rather than a show that you could see any time back in the States. It definitely paid off, too! The theatre itself was obviously a little old (there was a renovation fee included in our ticket price), but it was elegant and the seating was perfect. We were in the very last row in the very top balcony, but we could see and hear everything just fine.

The show itself is extremely different. It kind of plays tricks with your mind, and you're not really sure what to believe at certain points. They had magnificent effects, though; the stage was built so that half of it was this huge mechanised cutaway house, which could open up so that you could see the inside, and had a staircase that moved up to lock in place and connect it with the rest of the stage. At one specific part in the play, they used pyrotechnic explosions and the mechanics made the house fall down, and it was really startling and a little terrifying for a second. The plot is really twisty, and it's definitely not what you might expect it to be. I left at first going "what the...?" and it wasn't until I'd really thought it over a bit more that I decided I actually liked it quite a lot. The actors were fantastic (in my, admittedly very limited theatrical opinion), especially the Inspector himself.

After the show, Grant and I took the train back to Katie's house, where we got to meet Allan for the first time. We sat up and talked for a while, and then they told me how to use the internet here. Now, I need to go to bed. Tomorrow we have even more things planned, and I need to get some sleep!