Bonjour, France!

Chapitre III: Lyon

April 26

9:00: My roommate now understands how I felt the night before. I still don’t know how we managed that hill to the auberge de jeunesse with all our bags. The 200m climb must have taken us a good half an hour... Food poisoning is not pretty. The view from the hostel, however, was.

10:00: Granting ourselves this one morning to be lazy tourists, we jump on a double-decker bus. A crackling French recording explains us the sights while we click away madly on our cameras. Check out these wall paintings!

12:00: Already falling in love with this place – it ticks so many boxes on my “Perfect City” list. Permission to add to “Must Come Back One Day” and “Potential Residency” lists? Granted.

14:00: I walk my poor roommate, now an unsettling shade of wasabi green, to the emergency room to see a doctor. She, in turn, pushes me out to explore Lyon by myself with a: “On est en France – il faut que tu en profites!”

19:00: After a good five hours of walking around the city and across countless bridges over the blue, blue rivers, I sit down in a barber’s chair. Pierre gives me my first haircut in a year and we talk about his two daughters and my insane travel plans. He tells me I speak beautiful French and I let myself believe it. I am happy to leave a piece of me behind in this lovely city. Plus, I now have a French haircut!

April 27

9:00: My roommate is better, thank goodness! So, we're off to the Musée des Miniatures et Décors de Cinéma. It is one of my favourite museums in France – high praise in a group which includes the Musée d’Orsay, Louvre and the Orangerie. We see the set of the film Parfum and room after room of movie props: a mask worn by Arnie in The Terminator, Gibbs’ badge from NCIS, Indiana Jones’ hat and whip, Neo’s gun from the Matrix... There are also some unbelievable miniature artworks and sets. These artists would make excellent surgeons! (Left: 2x3cm paper cuttings. Right: a miniature set of about 20cm wide.)

12:00: Time for a taste of the gastronomic capital of France. Midday menu: salad with gizzard conserve, calf’s head with steamed potatoes and dessert of the day, pear in red wine. So. Good.

14:00: Basilique Notre Dame de Fourvière. Jaw dropping. Every inch of the walls are covered with intricate mosaics. I feel so small and humble. The tears flow with no effort at all.

17:00: A traditional puppet show at the Théâtre du Guignol:“Guignol et le Croquemitou”, the mystery of the catnapper. It's a little sad that I don’t get some of the jokes the five-year-olds sitting beside me are giggling hysterically at, but all the same, I love it. One more box ticked!

Bonjour, France!

Chapitre II: Montpellier

April 24

10:00: Already in Montpellier, and already feeling tropical. We head to the Antigone square in search of food. And food we find: paella from the Sunday morning market. I adore paella. The vendor has no forks, but I don’t mind! Scooping rice with mussel shells under palm trees and blue skies – what more can you ask of a holiday in the south of France? 

13:00: Walking through Place de la Comédie and the adjoining gardens. Spring is well and truly here! We continue to the Musée Fabre, “one of the biggest museums in France”. No kidding. I actually get lost – a feat I won’t even manage in the Louvre!

18:00: ZAT! (Zones Artistiques Temporaires) Festival – we see “a man who falls”, as my roommate bluntly puts it, and “a man who washes hands”. The latter may have left me a little perplexed, but the first definitely deserves more credit than that. Not only is he was an amazing trampolinist, he performs to Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G, 3^rd movement. I recognise the piece without needing to read the program, so that, dear reader, should give you a pretty good idea of how much I love it.

April 25

9:00: Sunday morning stroll through the Jardin de Peyrou. Such serenity. I don’t blame my roommate for wanting to live here one day. The Porte du Peyrou (nicknamed l’Arc de Triomphe, for obvious reasons) and the beautiful Château d’Eau...

11:00: I fall in love with the Quartier de l’Ancien Courrier, an old neighbourhood of Montpellier. Wandering down narrow alleyways, stumbling upon cute crêperies... 

 

14:00: A spot of shopping at the Odysseum. Sounds impressive for a shopping centre, doesn’t it? Well, it sure is. I find a shop called Stradivarius...that sells clothes and accessories. No matter, I buy a bag to support the excellent choice of name.

15:00: Sick. Sicker than I’ve been in years. But no details needed here. That’s the last time I try to save money and a bad stomach by buying food from a supermarket though – street vendor next time! How ironic.

19:00: I drag myself out of bed to see the Modigliani Quartet in concert at the Montpellier Fêtes des Luthiers. And boy am I glad I do. One look at them and all sickness is forgotten... Four beautiful men playing Webern, Beethoven and Debussy on four beautiful instruments – I can’t think of a better way to recover!

Bonjour, France!

Chapitre I: Marseille

April 22

Lausanne, too early in the morning: Knock. Knock knock. I stumble out of my dream and out of bed. My door opens to blinding light and a worried roommate: “Ça va, Cathy? T’es prête? On a dix minutes...” TEN MINUTES?! I nearly trip over my circus-issue pyjama pants on my way to the alarm clock. 4:50am. What was I thinking, booking a 5:30 train? Cheap tickets, of course.

10:00: In Marseille! Apparently, we passed through Lyon on the way from Geneva... What can’t I sleep like this on an airplane?

 

11:00: Bags dropped off and maps in hand, time to hit the Noailles Markets. 

A seafood pizza for $5, made while you watch? We’re not in Switzerland anymore!

We devoure it by the beautiful Vieux Port (Old Port) of Marseille. Salty olives, tomato lips and the smell of the sea.

14:00: On a boat to l’Isle d’If, or more accurately, “around l’Isle d’If”. Unfortunately, the wind this weekend is determined to prevent us from visiting the château from The Count of Monte Cristo. We also sadly miss out on kayaking around the famous calanques (“a geologic formation in the form of a deep valley with steep sides, typically of limestone, in part submerged by the sea”. Thank you, Wikipedia). Next time, next time.

17:00: Cathédrale Notre Dame de la Garde, one of the most beautiful places I have ever set foot in. I say this not only for its aesthetic splendour, but for the emotion and reverence it evokes in me. I’m not sure how long I just stand at the entrance, goose bumps on my skin and tears in my eyes. I can still hear the music that resonated in that holy place. I may not agree with many things that religion has to say, but there is no denying that this space is pure and sacred. 

20:00: Don Giovanni at the Marseille Municipal Opera. Ten euro seats aren’t the best ones in the house, but we are in! And it is incredible. The music (we know how much I love Mozart), the acting, the theatre... One of many in the city, the map tells me. I think I may just have to live in Europe someday.

April 23

9:00: Walking around the city, admiring Easter-mad boulangeries and giggling at the Marseillaise accent. It is sadly rainy, but still beautiful. Also, shopping here is good. Too good. The little boutiques may be a bit exorbitant, but H&M sure isn’t...

12:00: A playground with a view. We enjoy both very much.

15:00: Walking along the port to Cathédrale de la Major – another slice of purity, another moment of peace. Actually, this would develop into a pattern during the next ten days. It is my time to centre myself, to forget the city maps, the street merchants and the tourist crowds. I am not saying that the two are otherwise comparable, but churches in France do remind me a little of spas in Bali!

19:00: Toinou Restaurant. With no men by our side, my roommate and I decide nonetheless to share a romantic dinner for two. Why not? Marseille is famous for its seafood after all. And quite rightly so!

Lemon sweet.

The first thought that came to mind after finishing my seven page French literature essay?

BLOG TIME!
Ok, you got me – technically speaking, I did think “CHOCOLATE TIME!” first, but that happens far too often to still be a surprise to you, dear reader.

So, I realise I’ve been neglecting this space for a few weeks now. Shameful, I know, but Life recently decided to throw a few rotten fruits of the citric variety my way. I can’t blame him really; I was waving around a “LEMONS WANTED” sign. Anyway, it appears that his throwing skills are far better than my dodging ones, so I’ll be feeling the sting for a while... I am on the road to making lemonade, but the path of slippery lemon peels is a difficult one to walk.

On a sweeter note, it’s time to tell you about my Easter holidays. Or should I say, “holidays”. Ten days, four cities and two thousand photos later, I need another just to recover! However, I can now officially say that I have been to France. And I liked it.

So, grab yourself a croissant and an espresso, dear reader, and watch this space!

Happy Mother's Day!

I would like to dedicate this blog post to my beautiful mother and all the other wonderful mothers I am lucky enough to know. 

You deserve to be loved and celebrated every day of the year.

Sending my love from the picturesque Leman lakeside in Ouchy, Lausanne, Switzerland.