April Highlights: Bonjour de France
Hello again :)
April was a month of a lot of firsts: my first solo trip, my first trip out of Spain, my first visit to a country where I don't speak the language, my first spring break as a teacher rather than a student, and, perhaps most proudly, my first European half marathon! I'm embarrassed to admit that some of these firsts incited a disproportionate amount of anxiety, but I'm equally excited to share that I overcame a lot of fears and gained a lot of confidence by getting over them. For that reason, I'm especially proud of the blog post you are about to read.
Donostia-San Sebastián
To celebrate April Fool's Day, I pranked myself into running a third half marathon. I pranked myself into believing that even though Basque Country enjoys 200 rainy days per year, that monsoon season would surely subside per my very special request. For the first half of the race, I was sure I had somehow manifested a beautiful albeit overcast day for my first European race. But around mile 6, I was humbled by a pretty heavy rainstorm that lasted till mile 10. But I can't complain too much. I got to run the flattest course I've ever run through the beautiful city of San Sebastián and its gorgeous coastline. I even beat my personal record, motivated purely the the promise of a raincoat and a hamburger at the end.
In a lot of ways, the Media Maratón Donostia-San Sebastián looked the same as the halves I've done back in Cincinnati. For one, we enjoyed equally fabulous weather this year. Onlookers climbed out of their warm, cozy homes clad in envy-inducing layers and rainboots to cheer on the runners. Every haggard, red-faced participant looked absolutely miserable until the moment they crossed the finish line or saw a photographer, suddenly becoming a sweatless picture of joy. An infectious camaraderie exists whether you ask for it or not. In some ways, humans are the same no matter where you go.
But there was one major difference. I traded the traditional pasta dinner for a pintxo crawl throughout Donostia Old Town, swapping breadsticks for Basque cheesecake and spaghetti for crab-stuffed squid. I think this delicious fuel definitely had something to do with my new PR.
Below: my "last supper" and favorite views in San Sebastián, as well as some cool artifacts from the San Telmo Museum, a comprehensive museum of Basque art, history, and culture.
Spring Break in France
The high school where I teach had 2 full weeks off for Spring Break, and I took advantage of this time to explore a new country, France! This was a significant trip for me for a few reasons. First, it was the first time I had left Spain since arriving in September. It was also my first solo trip. Fun fact about me: I don't usually like being by myself. I enjoy a social life and especially the safety of a group. But many of my friends have solo traveled this year and really seemed to like the freedom of it. And while I'm not ready to become a total hermit, I definitely would recommend solo travel to anyone who wants to try it out.
Here's why: You can go wherever you want, whenever you want, without having to worry about the agenda of anyone else. It's incredibly empowering as well. Whether it be for safety, making decisions, or navigating 3 different trains to get back to your hostel, relying on yourself for everything, and doing it successfully, no matter the number of hiccups, makes you realize the true extent of your competence.
Spending time on my own is also a skill I want to develop as I get older. People come and go from your life, but you have to spend 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for entire rest of your life with yourself. So if you don't enjoy being with you, that presents a real problem. Spending time on my own in France really forced me to feel comfortable in my own skin. I had to trust my own decisions and be my own source of validation. I had to advocate for myself, stumbling through poorly spoken French, without hiding behind anyone else. I often looked silly. People seldom cared. A particularly sweet waitress in Paris even praised me for it as I sat somewhat self-consciously at a table for one. She said that taking time sit alone and really listen to your own thoughts is good for the soul. (I will believe anything told to me in a French accent. They just sound wise.)
With that being said, you're never really alone when you travel. At least, it doesn't feel like it. People, for better or worse, are everywhere: trains, hostels, walking tours. But travelling alone grants you the freedom to meet a hugely diverse range of people you wouldn't meet otherwise.
Speaking of people, let me debunk one thing right now.
French people are not rude.
Of course, I can only speak for my own experience, but after 6 months of stony Basque manners, the joie de vivre of Bordeaux, Paris, and Nice was a welcome change. I do think, however, that the stereotype of rudeness comes the the lovely French tendency to not put up with any-for lack of a better word-bullshit. When a loud group of tourists interrupts their dinner or begins demanding their drinks in English without so much as a bonjour, the French aren't shy to show their irritation. In some ways, humans are the same no matter where you go. Please, thank you, and patience go a long way.
Bordeaux
Bordeaux is about halfway between Bilbao and Paris, so I stopped there for one night of Romanesque buildings and hard-to-pronounce wines. I took a BlaBlaCar, which is an app like Uber but for carpooling. It sounds scary but is really common in Europe, and it was a great way to practice my Spanish. Plus I got to hang out with this unexpected travel companion (Río).
Bordeaux was my first taste of France. Uniform rows of white flats and imposing, Gothic churches made me feel like I was wandering through a Disney movie. I spent my first evening exploring famous sites and monuments like Place de la Bourse, Grosse Cloche, Cathédrale Saint-André de Bordeaux, Basilique Saint-Michel, the National Opera, the Garonne River, and the Public Garden.
I devoted the following day to exploring the wine side of Bordeaux, which could have been a weeklong trip in and of itself. Unfortunately, I know even less about wine than I do about the French language (which is zero), but I managed to pick up a few fun facts by visiting 2 vineyards on the left bank. Apparently, the left and right bank differ in the kind of soils, classifications, grapes, and wines they produce. But they share a few things in common, one of the most surprising to me was that they rarely use irrigation. When I asked why, the guide simply said, "We don't control the weather." She explained that adding water decreases the quality of the wine. Apparently, this is a hotly debated topic, given the harmful impact of climate change on vineyards and their yield. I also learned about the process of harvesting the grapes and their journey to become the most delicious wine I've EVER tasted, as well as all the tiny factors like rocks in the soil and the size of a barrel that can completely change the quality and taste of the wine.
First, I visited Château Luchey-Halde, which pairs their wine tasting with locally-made chocolate, and spent the afternoon at Château Papa Clément, a more traditional château, complete with a large castle and sweeping garden.
Paris
My main motivation for travelling to France was to check Paris off my ever-growing bucket list. I took the high-speed train from Bordeaux and started exploring the city of lights. The thing about Paris is that everything feels so iconic. Many times I started out with a destination in mind, then saw a pretty street or random monument that totally detoured me, but ended up being super interesting anyway.
I began with a great walking tour that hit the major attractions like the Notre Dame (still under reconstruction), Fontaine Saint-Michel, the River Seine, Pont Neuf, Palais de Justice, the Louvre, and several other notable spots. The tour finished at the picturesque Tuileries Gardens near the Louvre, and from there I walked up the Champs d'Élysées, one the city's most famous shopping streets, to the Arc de Triomphe.
From the gardens, the Arc de Triomphe looks relatively close, but after 90 minutes of walking, I realized that was due more to the Arc's absolute enormity.
The Arc de Triomphe (Arch of Triumph) was commissioned during Napoleon's rule to celebrate his military victories and pay tribute to his loyal army. It was built over several years and stood as a symbol of French military strength. But with the devastating toll of WWI and the addition of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in 1920, the Arc began to take on a different meaning. It now honors those all who fought and died for France. After learning more about its history, I still view this monument as a symbol of strength, but not in a military sense. France is an old country, much older than the U.S., and it has been through a lot. Wars and revolutions. Good leaders and bad leaders. Enemies from the outside and within. The Arc stands today not as a threat of war, but as an acknowledgement of it. It is a token of human resilience and a promise to learn from our mistakes.
After washing bird shit out of my hair in a €2 public bathroom and climbing 284 painstaking steps to the top, I enjoyed well-earned panoramic views of Paris, stretching from the Sacre Coeur to the Eiffel Tower and beyond. It's beyond obvious to say that Paris is a huge city, but there's something special about being able to see it all at once and appreciate the the immensity of it, feeling so big and yet so small.
When I caught my first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, I genuinely got so excited. I mean, I totally fangirled. I really wasn't expecting that, but somehow seeing such an iconic symbol of Paris made it seem like I was really, finally there. In fact, one of my favorite Paris activities was my sunset picnic at the Eiffel Tower, which consisted of a baguette, cheese, and chocolate.
While I didn't make it to the Louvre (there's only so much you can do in 4 days!), I did visit the Musée d'Orsay, a smaller but still highly notable museum that holds a collection of famous French art, and is known for impressionist works like Starry Night Over the Rhône (Van Gogh), Water Lilies (Claude Monet), Dance in the Country (Pierre-Auguste Renoir), and The Ballet Class (Edgar Degas). My knowledge of art is just as limited as my knowledge of wine, but there is a special kind of thrill that comes with seeing truly legendary work. It nearly makes you understand why people live, breath, and go legitimately crazy for it. Impressionist art tends to feature nature and landscapes as a subject rather than a background, as well as give a glimpse into the simple lives of everyday people. And since the museum primarily features French artists and subjects, it offers a really interesting look into French history, lifestyle, and culture. I loved it so much, I'll even go so far as to betray my beloved Spain and say it beat out the Reina Sofía, my former favorite art museum of all time.
Like the Eiffel Tower, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed simply strolling along the River Seine. The vibe is immaculate, with jazz musicians riffing under bridges and people from all walks of life all laying side by side in the sunshine. I even spotted Nashville and Friday Night Lights icon Connie Britton touring around with her family. We were browsing the same souvenir booth, so I can confirm that she has great taste. (See poorly taken final photo.)
On the Seine's left bank lies the infamous Latin Quarter, is the oldest neighborhood in Paris. It gets its name from its history of academia dating back to the Middle Ages, when many schools in the area, including the Sorbonne, used Latin as its principal language of study. Now, the area is known for picturesque cobblestone streets, lively atmosphere, and remarkable monuments like the Panthéon and Sainte-Chapelle.
If the first few pictures look familiar, you probably watch too much TV. They filmed Emily in Paris on this street. The first building is Emily's flat and the red awning is the restaurant where her love interest works. I was getting lost in the Latin Quarter when I stumbled upon it. A ton of people were taking pictures if front of these seemingly ordinary buildings, and I was super confused. Shoutout to the other American tourists who educated me! Also nearby is Luxembourg Gardens, an enormous, picture-perfect park.
The Panthéon is another of Paris's architectural masterpieces, originally designed as a church dedicated to Saint Geneviéve, the patron saint and legendary protector of Paris. And as with many of Paris's great monuments, it was a somewhat redundant testament to the greatness of the country and its royal rulers. Inside the Panthéon, the grandiose domes and elaborate artwork continue to amaze. Every detail is eye-catching. In the center of the building, a pendulum swings monotonously. This is Focault's Pendulum, an 19th century experiment that demonstrated the constant rotation of the Earth. But that is not nearly the most interesting thing within the ancient walls.
Underneath the beautifully adorned tile floors is a mausoleum, holding for eternity some of the most impactful French residents in history, In contrast with the bright, museum-like vibe of the main floor, the basement is really spooky, with dim hallways winding into even dimmer crypts, reverently housing the remains of prominent folks like Louis Braille, Marie and Pierre Curie, Voltaire, Rosseau, Victor Hugo, and dozens of French military and government figures.
The Panthéon's equally beautiful but hopefully less haunted neighbor is the Sainte-Chapelle, a royal chapel with the most fantastic stained-glass windows. This relatively underrated attraction is part of the Palais de la Cité, which acted as a royal residence until the 14th century. Originally, it was built to house King Louis IX's collection of Catholic relics, particularly Jesus's crown of thorns, which have since been relocated to the Notre Dame's collection. At this point, I've seen more than my fair share of Gothic-style European churches, but the all-encompassing purple glow of these windows gives the space a mesmerizing warmth that I found other, equally impressive churches to lack.
And of course, you can't visit the Latin Quarter without hearing some jazz, and the show I saw at Le Caveau de la Huchette did not disappoint. I was skeptical when I saw that the band's average age summed up around 60, but they absolutely killed it. And the crowd loved them. It's so cheesy to say that music transcends things like language and cultural differences, but you'll find no more fitting place for that truth than in a Paris jazz club. People of all ages and languages joined in the party, which made for a great and memorable night.
While I loved the Latin Quarter, something that is really cool about Paris is how unique each neighborhood is. Below are some photos of my favorites. First, Le Marais, a cool area with an interesting mix of tranquil gardens, hip bars, and a plethora of shops and galleries. It's a great but super busy area to walk around and get a taste of urban Paris.
But my favorite neighborhood was certainly Montmartre, a quirky little hilltop in the 18th arrondissement. Further out from central Paris, it avoided much of the development of the 19th century, giving it a rustic vibe fitting for its residential past and present artists. Big names like Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec, Picasso, Renoir, and Matisse, all spent significant time in Montmartre. Montmartre means "mountain of the martyr", because Saint Denis, the patron saint of France, was decapitated there. It is well-known for sites like the Moulin Rouge and Sacre Coeur, the 2 remaining windmills and French celebrity homes. While all impressive, I was ultimately charmed by the atmosphere of quaint cafés, colorful flats, and lovely cobblestone streets dotted with artsy galleries and boutiques, which are more reminiscent of a tiny French village than one of the world's largest and poshest cities. Also for you remaining Emily in Paris fans, you can find the "Wall of Love" in this neighborhood. It was honestly another accidental find, but it's quite pretty. The mural depicts the phrase "I love you" 311 times in 250 languages.
The crown jewel of Montmartre is the Sacre Coeur, a basilica overlooking spectacular views of Paris. (Monte Carlo fans, pay attention. Meg met Riley on these very steps. Okay, maybe I watch too much TV.) The views are truly sensational, as is the church itself. Maybe it was the single rainy day of my trip, or the dark contrast of the structure, or the darker controversies around the building itself, but has a sort of haunted house energy to it. Its construction was controversial because it was built to "atone for the sins" committed during the Franco-Prussian War and the Paris Commune, both of which caused substantial loss of French lives. Therefore, some Parisians hoped that this massive tribute to the "Sacred Heart of Jesus" would save France from greater turmoil. Instead, it came to symbolize the class, religious, and political division within the country. Regardless, the Sacre Coeur is a beautiful monument and I was so pleased to be able to see it in person.
Before leaving Paris, I took a day trip to the Château de Versailles, the 2,300 room palace and gardens formerly inhabited by the French monarchy. It is a World Heritage site, an architectural and artistic marvel, and truly a sight to behold. Louis XIII (yes, another Louis) originally used the grounds as a hunting lodge, but his son Louis XIV had bigger plans. In the 1600s, Louis XIV transformed the humble hunting lodge into a luxurious castle. Its interior and exterior opulence stood as a reflection of the mighty strength and absolute power of the French monarchy, and by extension, France itself. Versailles remained a royal residence until the French Revolution in 1789, which forced King Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antoinette from their golden-clad shelter into Paris, where they were eventually beheaded. The château was restored in the 1900s and is now a historical attraction for visitors from all over the world. (In my opinion, too many visitors. The crowding of vengeful elbows and razor-sharp selfie sticks in very small, poorly ventilated rooms was not an ideal experience.)
Just as its designers intended, Versailles is beautiful and luxurious, a testament to France's rich past. Walking through rooms of decadent tapestries and more than 60,000 paintings of France's elite, it's not hard to see why the working class had grown tired of the act. Still, it was really exciting to witness a gorgeous place that has held so much history.
Overall, Paris stands firm as one of my favorite places in the world. It is such an epicenter of class and culture, rooted firmly in its own identity while constantly stretching toward a new era. It is this strength and tenacity that has made Paris a survivor of the past, and icon of the present, and a paragon of the future.
I believe you could spend your entire life in Paris and never run out of things to do. But after 4 full days there, I was completely exhausted. Luckily, the next stop of my trip was the the ultimate R&R destination: the French Riviera.
Nice
Nice, a lovely spot on the French Riviera, was the perfect place to recuperate from the fabulous chaos of Paris. While still considered one of France's largest cities, Nice moves at a much slower pace, as is the prerogative of beach towns. I traveled by sleeper train, spending the night in one of those miniature couchette compartments not built for 5'10" Americans. But it's hard to care too much about neck pain when passing views of the stunning French Riviera. The train rolled past turquoise blue waters, stony white beaches, and glamorous French towns like Cannes, Antibes, and Saint-Tropez before arriving in Nice.
The white, rocky beaches of Nice may not be quite as comfortable as sand, but these limestone pebbles are what give the water its pristine, azure color, like cloudy Caribbean seas. It's nearly mesmerizing to look at. When I first arrived, I thought, "I could stare at this water for hours." So I did. But from several different viewpoints. Below are some of my favorites! (Please ignore the most horrendous sunburn of my life. I'm a functioning adult until it's time to apply sunscreen.)
1) Views from the city's public beach
2) Views from Promenade des Anglais, a convenient footpath that nearly stretches along the coast for almost 7 km from the airport to Old Nice.
3) Views from Castle Hill (a personal favorite)
From this former military citadel, you can see the entire city of Nice, the surrounding mountains, and of course, those beautiful crystal blue waters. The easy trek to the top takes you past an artificial waterfall and a peaceful cemetery overlooking the bay. The graveyard is divided into a Christian section and a Jewish section, which includes a moving memorial to local victims of the Holocaust.
Vieux Nice, the "old town", is absolutely stunning. Bright, pastel-colored houses overlook winding streets full of food, flowers, and sunshine. Shops sell all sorts of handmade clothing, soap, perfume, food, and wine. There were plenty of people, but the energy was still calm and relaxed. People moved slowly from place to place, enjoying the scenery of the town.
Vieux Nice is also home to Cours Saleya, a bustling flower market selling mostly food and flowers, creating the most heavenly smell imaginable.
On the edge of Vieux Nice you can find the Port of Nice, docking everything from mega yachts to wooden rowboats and everything in between. I absolutely loved exploring Nice because of its sparkling, glamorous ambience. It felt like everything was glimmering.
Eze
Eze is a short day trip from Nice, just 30 minutes (and a steep uphill hike) from Nice. From the sea-level town of Èze bord-de-Mer, I hiked the Nietzsche Trail about an hour to the medieval town of Èze Village. It was definitely more of a trek than Castle Hill, but offered fantastic views of the sea and a beautiful walk through the forest. The path gets its name from philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, who relocated to the area in 1883 in search of good weather and respite to cure his mental and physical ailments. It is believed that the philosopher was deeply inspired by the beautiful scenery, resulting in his book Thus Spake Zarathustra. If you thought I was clueless about wine and art, you're going to be incredibly disappointed by my knowledge of philosophy, but I will admit that the environment is undeniably inspiring. Much like standing beneath the Eiffel Tower or atop the Arc de Triomphe, the vast beauty of the hike made me feel very, delightfully small.
The village itself was equally pretty. It is built into the hilltop, and the fabulous views are visible from nearly every part of the town. Where you can't catch a glimpse of the ocean, you are getting lost in the curving medieval streets and centuries-old masonry. Best of all, there's no cars allowed within the village itself, and the silence is blaring. The pleasant harmony of street musicians, haggling artists, and birds in the gardens is the most lovely, loudest silence you will ever hear.
Eze's primary attraction is the Le Jardin Exotique, home to a 12th-century castle, sculptures to match, and a variety of both local and exotic plants.
Food
The food in France deserves its own special mention. The French eat ridiculously well, and I'm not just talking about croissants. (Although, wow, can we talk about the croissants?) Eating out was also surprisingly affordable because of the prix fixe lunch menus, which usually offers a generous 3-course meal and a drink for a fixed price. Usually that was enough food to get me through most of the day, and a great hack for cheap travel.
Photos (from left to right): Chocolate at the Eiffel Tower, Socca (chickpea flatbread popular in Nice), canelé (Bordeaux pastry flavored with rum and vanilla), lentils & sausage (the BEST meal I had in Paris), crème brûlée, Parisian pastry shop, cheese dish (Bordeaux), beachside gelato, fish of the day (the BEST meal I had in Bordeaux), brioche, pumpkin soup, raspberry tart, open-faced sandwich, strawberries + cream + fluffy pastries from Cours Saleya market in Nice, café au lait in Montmartre (in the cafe where they filmed Amelie), vegetarian crêpe, Lebanese ice cream from Le Marais, steak and cooked potatoes.
Many people have asked me which place I liked best: Bordeaux, Paris, or Nice. It sounds like a cop-out answer, but I liked them all equally for different reasons. My first instinct is Nice, since I love the outdoors and smaller cities. But how can that compete with the history and legendary sites of Paris? Or the storybook beauty of Bordeaux? I guess I'll just have to go back to be sure!
Overall, I am immensely grateful that I had the opportunity to explore this beautiful country. It deserves all the hype it receives and more. The funny thing is that I went on a solo trip to learn more about myself and ended up learning more about people than I ever have before. Spending time alone, I was forced to observe and pay attention to people other than me and my friends. So often, we are caught up in our own lives and conversations, our own little worlds, that we fail to see how tiny we are. Once we humble ourselves to the world and our place in it, it's easier to notice how everyone is caught up in their own little worlds, and that it is actually a privilege to pass through them.
A tour guide I had in Paris told us the story of how the Notre Dame was saved when Victor Hugo wrote The Hunchback of Notre Dame. He gets a lot of credit for inspiring its reconstruction and preservation, but it would not have been possible if Parisians hadn't let themselves pass through Hugo's own world to see the Notre Dame as a national treasure in need of saving. It was ordinary people who raised their voices to the government, who donated what they could and went door to door for more. It was ordinary people who quickly extinguished its flames, and it is ordinary people who are rebuilding it again today. If you look at the pictures above, you might notice that there are more people in the background than I normally allow. That's intentional. France would not be France without its people, and I'm forever grateful to have been briefly allowed to pass through their world.
Cheers to a great April and wishing everyone an even better (what's left of) May!
Au revoir,
Julia
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