Ski the Alps? Why not?

My last weekend in Europe, before my brief return home, saw me against visiting France. This time I was in the snobby country’s second biggest city, Lyon. After a strenuous one-day workweek, I met Cleighton in the city where he was spending his third semester of business school (apparently you can study abroad in grad school). He had two finals Friday morning but it did not take much convincing to head to a pub for some pints after I had dropped my stuff at his place. We found a pub hosting a trivia night and settled in for a solid night of French beer and games. The questions ranged from popular culture to world history, making the contest quite difficult; however, not to excuse our bad play, we did get one fuck yeah America moment. The group next to us was comprised of a fat Frenchman, an old Englishman, and two chicks who made Lori Beth Denberg look like Heidi Klum all taking the trivia night too seriously. After they only half jokingly accused us of trying to cheat off them (we had given up and were betting rounds of beers on the answers between ourselves at this point). Sometime we said prompted a snide comment towards our intelligence as Americans, assuming we didn’t know the answer to a question regarding our own history. Who are the only two presidents to receive the Nobel Peace Prize while still in office (excluding Obama)? I said we were only sure of one but that we felt confident about the second, Wilson and Teddy Roosevelt, respectively. After they made sure to inform us that our answers were only incorrect but very outdated, the announcer read off the correct answer. The look on thief faces was priceless when the abovementioned leaders were announced.

The next day, while Cleighton was lost in a world of academia, I explored Lyon. The city is gorgeous with impressive architecture lining the two rivers that split it in two and, of course, a plethora of stunning churches. The most impressive of which was the Notre Dame de Fourviere, situated on top of a hill with a commanding view of the city. The walk up was taxing, though a Roman amphitheatre served as a great break/picture opportunity half way up, but worth the hike. The basilica provided a picturesque view of the city as the cloudless day set the background for a perfect day. After a little down time, we got back after it that night, ensuring minimal sleep before we headed at dawn the next day to the Alps for a bit of skiing.

The five o’clock wake-up and subsequent two and a half hour bus ride were all a haze but I awoke hours later to one of the most breathtaking views I have ever seen. The base of the mountain we were skiing was already at such an altitude that all we could see around us were mountain peaks and clouds below. Words cannot do the view justice. Skiing the Alps is just as amazing as one could imagine and my DJ Tiesto podcast only added to the constant rush of adrenaline I felt all day. Conversely, trying to ski through a cloud was not as awesome as we thought it would be. Asides from being surround by complete whiteness, which was surreal, it requires a slow pace to accurately and safely navigate the trail. An experience for sure and hey, how many people have skied through a cloud? It was an absolutely incredible trip and a fantastic way to conclude my first three months in Europe.

Living vicariously through the study abroad students

The first weekend of December I traveled to Rennes in the northwest of France to visit AJ, who is ‘studying’ abroad in the small, medieval town. Asides from a brief stint in Paris two years ago, this was my first true taste of France and French culture. Awesome trip, great time but the French really do not do much to dissuade the stereotype of being douche bags. Generalizing, while not fair with such a small sample, is too easy as the majority were quite rude, especially to my friends studying in the town trying to improve their French.

Douchebaggery aside, it really was a cool city. I spent Thursday night in Paris and headed to Rennes on Friday by train (the efficiency of the European train system still amazes me every time I use it). After catching up a bit, we headed to a pub for a quick pint and the World Cup draw. Many drinks later and a very below par Mexican meal (you may be asking: why would you eat Mexican food in France? Answer: when you are with a group of girls all logic should be thrown out the window. Secondly, women are horrible gauges of good Mexican food. If that offends the lone, if any, reader of this blog then just ask AJ about his Chi-Chis experience in Brussels. Enough said) we headed to a club. Pretty standard European club/night as we stayed out until sunrise making our productivity the next day all but nonexistent.

Our big plans for Saturday were attending a Stade Rennais (French first division soccer team) game. The pre-game involved tubes of beer as we slowly recovered our swag from the night before. AJ sprung for the best tickets in the stadium (only 5euro more than the upper deck Real Madrid tickets we had a fortnight earlier), which placed us two rows back at the midfield line. Baller. To make the experience even better, we ate traditional Brittany (region) food called Gallettes, grilled sausages wrapped in wheat crepes. After another full night of debauchery, we ended up at this little stand for a Scooby-Doo. Cheeseburgers, fries, lettuce, tomatoes, special sauce all inside of a toasted panini, had there been some chili or spicy sauce it would have been no different than Hubbas. It was a fantastic way to conclude the weekend’s festivities.

My late train Sunday allowed us to do our sightseeing/walking tour the next afternoon before my long trip home. Great to see AJ and I am glad that we decided to meet there and not Paris as it was very cool to see a part of France with no American influence.

The Move

After much consideration, I have decided to move. As of December 18th I will no longer be living in the basement of a family’s suburban home but my new, swagtastic apartment. Thanks to a friend (Mike), who knows my soon-to-be roommate, I have found the perfect place in the dead center of town for a great price. Weighing my options I realized that I was living with many more of the cons than the positives in my home stay. The family is barely around to have conversations with, the little kids wake me up way to early on weekends (the Wii is downstairs), and the food is awful.

The timing couldn’t be better with my rent ending two days after I leave for New York, the new place becoming available early enough to give the family fair warning of my departure, and the new roommate not needing the replacement until the start of January. I am storing my stuff in his closet before I depart stateside, and when I return I will have a brand new apartment.

A Tale of Three Thanksgivings

A close second to July 4th, Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. No gift pressure, no expectations, just family and food. Suffice it to say that I was very envious of everyone back in the states able to celebrate the turkey filled holiday. The only time I have missed the holiday was the last time I was in Spain, however, my study abroad program made the promise (and hyped up) a meal for us. Our director had lived in the states for 12 years and his wife was American, I had high hopes they were going to make sure it was done right. Most disappointing meal ever would be a grave understatement. This year, having no program or culinary skills I had not even entertained the idea of a Thanksgiving meal. Two weeks before turkey day begins the story of the most gluttonous weekend of my life….

Meal the first: With about a fortnight until the big day, the other Americans I work with began throwing around the idea of having our own Thanksgiving. As the day approached the talks escalated but as I left for ht eh weekend on Thursday (the actual holiday), nothing had been finalized. Friday afternoon I received a text from the would-be-hostess confirming the details. I had never hung out with my colleagues (for a plethora of reasons); however, it was nice to get to know them a little better. The meal itself was actually chicken (turkey is quite expensive in Spain, especially if you want to buy one in its entirety) but no complaints. It was good food and good company, in reality, what Thanksgiving is all about anyway.

The second course (the real deal): After the aforementioned meal I returned home to a very pleasant email. One of my father’s friends in Madrid had invited me, albeit last minute, to their Thanksgiving celebration the next day. I responded with as much grace as possible at two o’clock in the morning with a few bottles of wine in me, and the next day at three I made my way to their apartment. Full American Thanksgiving…not a detail missing. Full stuffed turkey, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, etc….truly epic.

The final course: Mike and Alex are two of my closest friends in Madrid. Within two weeks of knowing them, Alex assured me that when November came around there would be a Thanksgiving meal for all of us. She took the reigns, Mike and I brought the wine, and we all celebrated with some of our Spanish friends. To echo the abovementioned theme, perfect Thanksgiving conditions.

In the end I would say it was a very successful holiday weekend. Although I was not celebrating with my family, it was quite nice to have so many people open their doors and, most importantly, their kitchens for me.