Catching up

I've been lazy. Time to make up! Since my last pathetic attempt to describe Edinburgh, I've been to Paris. Yes! City of lights! City of baguettes! City of snooty French waiters! Or so we thought.

The lights part probably fits, actually, though we generally had early nights due to walking multitudinous numbers of kms all day and being exhausted as a result. Ditto the baguettes: lots of people (including us) wander the streets of Paris armed with a two or three foot long stick of narrow French bread. TASTY narrow Frnech bread, I might add. I became very fond of Boulangeries in the short three days we were in Paris. not only do they have exquisite bread, but they also have some of the most delightful pastries ever. I tried a chocolate and almond paste concoction that was heavenly. Anyways, two of the Paris myths turned out to be true. The third that I mentioned, however, was demonstrably false. French waiters were great! Friendly, helpful, polite, and patient with our butchered attempts at their language, they were the opposite of all the reports we've heard. We came to the conclusion that it's likely all in your attitude: if you go to Paris expecting service staff to speak flawless English to you immediately and get snarky if they don't, you'll probably be treated accordingly. If you attempt their language and resort to smiling and pointing if it doesn't work, you'll probably get much farther.

Rem, Kirsten, Tom and I arrived in Paris March 15 and departed the 17th. In between, we split up, Kirsten and Tom intending to do more shopping than our budget could consider. We saw most of the tourist highlights, I think: the Eiffel Tower, the Champs Elysses, Sacre Coeur, Montmartre, Notre Dame, the Pont Neuf, the Seine, the Tuileries gardens, the Obelisk, the Louvre and its amazing grounds, the Arc de Triomphe and that crazy traffic circle, the Latin Quarter... I can't remember what else! We walked and walked and walked and probably covered at least 15 kms of ground in all the wandering we did on the Wednesday alone. Enough walking to make up for all the bread and ice cream and pastries we were eating, at least.

My favourite part was probably, cheesy though it may be, the Eiffel Tower. I was surprised by how pretty 10 tons of steel girders (and that's really all it is!) can be. We actually went twice. I had intended to go up it on Wendesday but changed my mind when I saw a huge tour group massed by the elevators. It suddenly seemed less desirable and the 4-10 euros fee for the elevators (1st floor - 4 euros, 2nd - 7, top - 10) turned me off. We walked around the grounds for a good while, taking many, many [a href="http://www.remkes.ca/Photos/Books/Paris/paris0.html"]pictures[/a] and enjoying the gardens. I was thrilled that the tower was planted amongst gardens and duck ponds and parks and trees: I'd pictures sterile concrete with innumerable tourist vendors. There was concrete and vendors, but it was still much nicer than I'd expected. Anyways, later that day I regretted not going up, so Rem and I returned the next day and ascended to the second level. I'm glad we did: it was quite a view! And it was fun to get kissed on the Eiffel Tower on my 25th birthday. Nice commemoration!

Possibly the biggest disappointment was the Louvre. By now, i've been in enough art museums that I know my enjoyment limit is at most 3 hours, unless it's a style I really like, in a comfortable, quiet environment, etc. Still, I had some expectations that the Louvre would be more magical than it was, so that was one illusion shattered. Oh well. I saw the Mona Lisa, and had to laugh at the massive crowds around it. Tom took a picture of the crowd with nine hundred cameras pointed at the most famous painting ever. I was surprised that it was so small: it was maybe two feet by three feet. I'd expected something at least two or three times that size. We didn't have much patience for the crowds in that section of the museum, so headed to less popular areas. Though I didn't care too much for the Italian paintings, I did like the sculptures I saw - including the Venus de Milo: whoever modeled for those had some really nice muscles. We spent only a few hours in the museum, which was fine with me, but we managed to get lost in our attempt to find an exit. We stumbled across an American couple who were also looking for an exit but had given up all hope and collapsed onto a bench. It's a HUGE museum - housed in a Palace, I guess we should expect that - and even the maps can lead you astray.

I won't give you detailed descriptions of everything else: plenty of writers have beaten me to it and done a better job than I can. It was really fun to finally see the places I've heard described in books and now have an idea where they are in relation to eachother. I'm still having trouble replacing my old imaginary images with the new real ones, though, and I find when I think of a book I read pre-Paris, it's with the same pictures as before, inaccurate though they are.

Catching up

I've been lazy. Time to make up! Since my last pathetic attempt to describe Edinburgh, I've been to Paris. Yes! City of lights! City of baguettes! City of snooty French waiters! Or so we thought.

The lights part probably fits, actually, though we generally had early nights due to walking multitudinous numbers of kms all day and being exhausted as a result. Ditto the baguettes: lots of people (including us) wander the streets of Paris armed with a two or three foot long stick of narrow French bread. TASTY narrow Frnech bread, I might add. I became very fond of Boulangeries in the short three days we were in Paris. not only do they have exquisite bread, but they also have some of the most delightful pastries ever. I tried a chocolate and almond paste concoction that was heavenly. Anyways, two of the Paris myths turned out to be true. The third that I mentioned, however, was demonstrably false. French waiters were great! Friendly, helpful, polite, and patient with our butchered attempts at their language, they were the opposite of all the reports we've heard. We came to the conclusion that it's likely all in your attitude: if you go to Paris expecting service staff to speak flawless English to you immediately and get snarky if they don't, you'll probably be treated accordingly. If you attempt their language and resort to smiling and pointing if it doesn't work, you'll probably get much farther.

Rem, Kirsten, Tom and I arrived in Paris March 15 and departed the 17th. In between, we split up, Kirsten and Tom intending to do more shopping than our budget could consider. We saw most of the tourist highlights, I think: the Eiffel Tower, the Champs Elysses, Sacre Coeur, Montmartre, Notre Dame, the Pont Neuf, the Seine, the Tuileries gardens, the Obelisk, the Louvre and its amazing grounds, the Arc de Triomphe and that crazy traffic circle, the Latin Quarter... I can't remember what else! We walked and walked and walked and probably covered at least 15 kms of ground in all the wandering we did on the Wednesday alone. Enough walking to make up for all the bread and ice cream and pastries we were eating, at least.

My favourite part was probably, cheesy though it may be, the Eiffel Tower. I was surprised by how pretty 10 tons of steel girders (and that's really all it is!) can be. We actually went twice. I had intended to go up it on Wendesday but changed my mind when I saw a huge tour group massed by the elevators. It suddenly seemed less desirable and the 4-10 euros fee for the elevators (1st floor - 4 euros, 2nd - 7, top - 10) turned me off. We walked around the grounds for a good while, taking many, many [a href="http://www.remkes.ca/Photos/Books/Paris/paris0.html"]pictures[/a] and enjoying the gardens. I was thrilled that the tower was planted amongst gardens and duck ponds and parks and trees: I'd pictures sterile concrete with innumerable tourist vendors. There was concrete and vendors, but it was still much nicer than I'd expected. Anyways, later that day I regretted not going up, so Rem and I returned the next day and ascended to the second level. I'm glad we did: it was quite a view! And it was fun to get kissed on the Eiffel Tower on my 25th birthday. Nice commemoration!

Possibly the biggest disappointment was the Louvre. By now, i've been in enough art museums that I know my enjoyment limit is at most 3 hours, unless it's a style I really like, in a comfortable, quiet environment, etc. Still, I had some expectations that the Louvre would be more magical than it was, so that was one illusion shattered. Oh well. I saw the Mona Lisa, and had to laugh at the massive crowds around it. Tom took a picture of the crowd with nine hundred cameras pointed at the most famous painting ever. I was surprised that it was so small: it was maybe two feet by three feet. I'd expected something at least two or three times that size. We didn't have much patience for the crowds in that section of the museum, so headed to less popular areas. Though I didn't care too much for the Italian paintings, I did like the sculptures I saw - including the Venus de Milo: whoever modeled for those had some really nice muscles. We spent only a few hours in the museum, which was fine with me, but we managed to get lost in our attempt to find an exit. We stumbled across an American couple who were also looking for an exit but had given up all hope and collapsed onto a bench. It's a HUGE museum - housed in a Palace, I guess we should expect that - and even the maps can lead you astray.

I won't give you detailed descriptions of everything else: plenty of writers have beaten me to it and done a better job than I can. It was really fun to finally see the places I've heard described in books and now have an idea where they are in relation to eachother. I'm still having trouble replacing my old imaginary images with the new real ones, though, and I find when I think of a book I read pre-Paris, it's with the same pictures as before, inaccurate though they are.

Catching up

I've been lazy. Time to make up! Since my last pathetic attempt to describe Edinburgh, I've been to Paris. Yes! City of lights! City of baguettes! City of snooty French waiters! Or so we thought.

The lights part probably fits, actually, though we generally had early nights due to walking multitudinous numbers of kms all day and being exhausted as a result. Ditto the baguettes: lots of people (including us) wander the streets of Paris armed with a two or three foot long stick of narrow French bread. TASTY narrow Frnech bread, I might add. I became very fond of Boulangeries in the short three days we were in Paris. not only do they have exquisite bread, but they also have some of the most delightful pastries ever. I tried a chocolate and almond paste concoction that was heavenly. Anyways, two of the Paris myths turned out to be true. The third that I mentioned, however, was demonstrably false. French waiters were great! Friendly, helpful, polite, and patient with our butchered attempts at their language, they were the opposite of all the reports we've heard. We came to the conclusion that it's likely all in your attitude: if you go to Paris expecting service staff to speak flawless English to you immediately and get snarky if they don't, you'll probably be treated accordingly. If you attempt their language and resort to smiling and pointing if it doesn't work, you'll probably get much farther.

Rem, Kirsten, Tom and I arrived in Paris March 15 and departed the 17th. In between, we split up, Kirsten and Tom intending to do more shopping than our budget could consider. We saw most of the tourist highlights, I think: the Eiffel Tower, the Champs Elysses, Sacre Coeur, Montmartre, Notre Dame, the Pont Neuf, the Seine, the Tuileries gardens, the Obelisk, the Louvre and its amazing grounds, the Arc de Triomphe and that crazy traffic circle, the Latin Quarter... I can't remember what else! We walked and walked and walked and probably covered at least 15 kms of ground in all the wandering we did on the Wednesday alone. Enough walking to make up for all the bread and ice cream and pastries we were eating, at least.

My favourite part was probably, cheesy though it may be, the Eiffel Tower. I was surprised by how pretty 10 tons of steel girders (and that's really all it is!) can be. We actually went twice. I had intended to go up it on Wendesday but changed my mind when I saw a huge tour group massed by the elevators. It suddenly seemed less desirable and the 4-10 euros fee for the elevators (1st floor - 4 euros, 2nd - 7, top - 10) turned me off. We walked around the grounds for a good while, taking many, many [a href="http://www.remkes.ca/Photos/Books/Paris/paris0.html"]pictures[/a] and enjoying the gardens. I was thrilled that the tower was planted amongst gardens and duck ponds and parks and trees: I'd pictures sterile concrete with innumerable tourist vendors. There was concrete and vendors, but it was still much nicer than I'd expected. Anyways, later that day I regretted not going up, so Rem and I returned the next day and ascended to the second level. I'm glad we did: it was quite a view! And it was fun to get kissed on the Eiffel Tower on my 25th birthday. Nice commemoration!

Possibly the biggest disappointment was the Louvre. By now, i've been in enough art museums that I know my enjoyment limit is at most 3 hours, unless it's a style I really like, in a comfortable, quiet environment, etc. Still, I had some expectations that the Louvre would be more magical than it was, so that was one illusion shattered. Oh well. I saw the Mona Lisa, and had to laugh at the massive crowds around it. Tom took a picture of the crowd with nine hundred cameras pointed at the most famous painting ever. I was surprised that it was so small: it was maybe two feet by three feet. I'd expected something at least two or three times that size. We didn't have much patience for the crowds in that section of the museum, so headed to less popular areas. Though I didn't care too much for the Italian paintings, I did like the sculptures I saw - including the Venus de Milo: whoever modeled for those had some really nice muscles. We spent only a few hours in the museum, which was fine with me, but we managed to get lost in our attempt to find an exit. We stumbled across an American couple who were also looking for an exit but had given up all hope and collapsed onto a bench. It's a HUGE museum - housed in a Palace, I guess we should expect that - and even the maps can lead you astray.

I won't give you detailed descriptions of everything else: plenty of writers have beaten me to it and done a better job than I can. It was really fun to finally see the places I've heard described in books and now have an idea where they are in relation to eachother. I'm still having trouble replacing my old imaginary images with the new real ones, though, and I find when I think of a book I read pre-Paris, it's with the same pictures as before, inaccurate though they are.

Scotland continued

Scotland! Right, still have to write about that. As I said, Edinburgh was tremendously cool. The Old Town was full of amazing castle-ish white stone buildings, good free(!) museums, blossoming crocuses and daffodils braving the late snow, and best of all, a castle on the hill. I have a bit of an obsession for castles. It's nowhere near as pronounced as Rem's church fetish, but that's at least partly due to the fact that churches are much more common (and cheaper to get into!).

Thursday afternoon and Friday Rem and I wandered around the Old Town while Anne was at work and amused ourselves with the Writer's Museum, the Museum of Scotland, the National Art Gallery, the Museum of Childhood, the Princes Street gardens and just generally the Old town architecture. I was pretty sick at the time so spent at least as much time observing these museums from whatever bench I could find as I did actively wandering through them.

Saturday we split up so Rem and Anne could go to the Whisky Heritage center while I toured the castle. Unfortuantely, the whisky tour took only an hour and I hadn't considered how much there really is to see in the castle so I was sort of running around trying to take it all in in an hour. I didn't succeed terribly well (and was even half an hour late to meet them) and it's all a bit of a blur. I did come to the conclusion that I wouldn't like to live in a castle and that my favourite trashy romance novels ask for even more of a suspension of disbelief than I had anticipated. The castle was packed full of things to see - the Prisoner of War museum, a war memorial full of stained glass that they wouldn't let me photograph, a military prison museum, a really old chapel (the oldest in Edinburgh or Scotland, I can't remember - I didn't find it, sadly), Mary, queen of Scot's quarters when she gave birth to James, and the warfare museum. My main impression of the place was that is was imposing, windy, stony and cold. And I want to see more castles!

Oh yes, and I got to see the Crown jewels of Scotland - along with a briskly moving crowd of Japanese tourists. Interestingly enough, during WWII, Germany was sufficient threat that the jewels were actually buried in the castle in a very damp and dank sort of cave in the castle for safekeeping. Only 4 people were informed and given a map of their location. The Prime Minister of England and two other UK government officials (which ones, I have forgotten already), and the Governor General of Canada! Apparently they figured that if the other three were captured, the Gov Gen would still be safe and sound over the pond. My brain is empty and I'm going to go to bed but I know I'm not doing the castle justice. See here for some more info, 'kay?


Post-script: It occurred to me this week that I currently have the most lucrative job I've ever possessed. Ironically, I was prepared for it before any of my recent (and expensive) post-secondary education. Yes, I am referring to my job as a cleaning lady. I have two clients who pay me roughly $16-17/hour (depending on the exchange rate), plus reimbursement for travel costs. And remember, this is sans deductions so I do indeed net $16-17/hour! And all this for some vacuuming and scrubbing. Thanks mom.

Scotland: Land of kilts

Yes, it's true. Scotsmen really do wear kilts. And hot damn, they look great in them, too. When I told people here that one of my main goals in Scotland was to see boys in kilts, I got a lot of eye rolling and comments that they don't really wear kilts in Scotland. Pish tosh, say I! They do. Granted, it's not the everyday streetwear a la blue jeans, but we actually saw lots of bekilted males in a variety of situations.

Other than the street corner buskers in full regalia, pipes a-blowing and some random people on the streets, we saw kilts in three main circumstances.

The first: apparently kilts and rugby shirts are a very common fan outfit for (what else) rugby games. Anne's apartment is near the rugby stadium and we saw a huge number of sports fans making their way to the game all dressed up kilts, team shirts and occasionally team scarves. They usually had the long socks, too, but it was pretty cold - they were going to have nippy knees in any case.

The second: another sports scenario. We saw a curling club at the airport whose dress outfit for guys included kilts. Very swanky. I really wouldn't want to wipe out on the curling sheet in a kilt, though. Particularly if worn, ahem, authentically commando.

And finally: at the ceilidh! (Which I will rave about at length later.) Males from teenagers to men in their 60's or 70's were all sporting kilts, and I have to say, it's a great look on most people. The socks really make your calves look nice, and the shape of the kilt is pretty forgiving for spare tires.

So my goal was fulfilled. Men in kilts! Hurrah! I loved Scotland.

Just FYI: We were in Scotland from Feb 24 to March 1. I'll write more about other parts of the trip later. Rem's also covering the excursion at www.remkes.ca, of course. Oh, and that's where the pictures are going.