Monaco et la Fin du Voyage

And so my trip has reached its conclusion. After eleven days, four countries, and way too many Euros (and pounds) spent, the vacation is over, and I’m currently on a TGV headed back to Lyon. I really did not know what to expect coming into the trip, but looking back, I could not have asked for more. I saw bustling world capitals, tranquil countryside and beaches, and plenty of friends along the way. The only challenge now is accepting that it is over and getting back into a school mode. Right now, the prospects for that are not looking good.

But, before I get ahead of myself, I cannot forget the last stop on my journey, a weekend in Monaco. In truth, it was this final destination that the entire trip was booked around; using the excuse of the birthday of Brian Hwang (although, in reality, it was about two weeks ago), four of us (including Spencer Glantz and a high school friend of Brian’s from Northwestern) arrived at the Nice airport from Barcelona, Madrid, Lisbon and Paris on Friday morning. It is no secret that I am a big fan of the Nice airport, and this trip was no different than my first two. Always unsure of whether the plane is actually going to reach the runway when landing, you step out onto the tarmac, and are immediately surrounded by blue skies, warmth, and the ocean. Quite a wonderful welcome back to France.

After arriving in the Principality of Monaco (separate and sovereign from France, yet there is no border to speak of, and Monaco is completely under the protection of France, no we never did fully understand it), we quickly realized the one problematic fact about Monaco; there is really nothing to do. Without a gambler in the group, the main attraction of the casinos was lost on us, and we were not exactly in the mood for the beach (the bathing suit did not make the cut in my backpack of everything). Instead, we decided to simply walk around the town and visit all the hotels and resorts that were out of our price range. Not exactly full of the history or cultural value of my other tours during the past week, but still an enjoyable time.

We did take advantage Saturday of the few tourist sites to see in the Principality, namely the medieval village. Perched on a rock-like hilltop, this dates back well over 500 years, and includes the Royal Palace (definitely no Buckingham), an oceanography museum (the only museum in Monaco), and an historic cathedral (contrary to popular belief, at least some residents of Monaco do go to Church). Everything just seemed a bit nicer in Monaco, and everyone dressed the part, even in the low season that we are currently in. We saw marble hallways leading to the public elevators (those hills can be rough), cars in a row worth collectively millions of dollars, and of course the occasional fur hat, one of which Spencer described as a lady wearing “at least 8 animals on her head.” But the nice thing about it was that the people were not snobbish about it at all; playing the role of tourist, we snapped photo after photo of the grandeur, and the people just smiled and encouraged us to take more. Yes, they were loaded, but they were not going to hide it, and they were quite satisfied (in a friendly way) if you were impressed.

Despite all these fantastic attractions swirling around me, the best part of Monaco was the language. Namely, these people spoke French, and at least humored me by allowing me to converse with them in my new language. Coming from Spain and especially Portugal where I basically felt helpless for four days, I was so happy to get back to the francophone world, and not at all bothered by the role of translator for the group. True, I was a bit rusty after a week away from it, but on the whole it was enjoyable to at least try my verbal French again, especially when it was successful.

The weekend had been in the works for a while, ever since the beginning of September, and to finally have it all work out just as we had planned was a great success. Although I had just left Spencer a few days ago in Madrid, most of us had not seen each other in about a month, and it was a fun setting in which to fully catch up. We did miss out on any sort of Halloween celebration, but just seeing the French try to understand it (presumably for our benefit, but in reality it was just embarrassing) was a good laugh in itself. Plus, we picked up plenty of candy for ourselves on our way back from dinner, so it felt real enough to me.

Sadly, we did have to leave Monaco, and after struggling to find any place serving food (a Sunday and a holiday for Toussaint, a double whammy in France) and missing one train, we finally did make it out of the Principality, and on our merry way. It’s sad to see the vacation end, but it will be amazing to get back to Lyon. Now the clock is really ticking, with about a month and a half left in the semester. It feels like I just was on this same train heading to Lyon for the first time back in August; now we have passed the halfway mark. Is it really November already? Where did the time go?

No time for questions. This train is rolling along, final destination: Lyon. I couldn’t be happier.

On a Fini la Moitie, Mais Comment?

(Editor's Note(s): I meant to post this on Thursday night after writing it on the train, but it has been hard to find internet in this city for my computer, and I thus am copying this directly over onto another computer. I apologize for the likely typos and lack of a picture this time, I hopefully will fix this by next time)

Ever since we were admitted to the Lyon program back in March, all 23 of us here have dreamed of les Vacances de Toussaint, or, roughly translated, the All-Saints week of vacation. A true highlight of the trip, this was clearly marked on every single program calendar we received, and always formed an important way to frame the semester. Situated just at the end of October, it seemed a perfect way to divide up the semester into two neat sections. Yet, despite hours of planning, it was always sort of a far off dream, a date way in the future that, once achieved, would definitively mark the passage of time. Well, it's here, and I'm writing to you from a TGV currently departing Lyon. I'll admit, I had a distinct feeling of nostalgia while walking through the city on the way to the train station, finally ocming to grips with the fact that I will be gone from my home-away-from-home for ten whole days. Even my host mother was mildly disappointed that I will be gone for the week, dropping a line of regret into her usual complaints about me needing to clean up my room and stop having so much laundry. It's a give and take relationship, but it's working out.

But, before we get ahead of ourselves here, let me first catch you up on a couple of the highlights of the week. First off, as part of the Penn connection with IEP, the university provides for us tutors in any subject that we would like for the semester in an effort to level the playing field between us and the natives. The students they pair us up with are usually grad students who have already taken these courses, and thus my first session with a French guy was this past week. Anyway, it was pretty boring until the end when we were heading out, and I asked him if he had ever been to the States, one of the standard questions in my French people repertoire. He sadly said no, but claimed that he really wants to because he loves baseball and wants to see an MLB game live. Now, my French was not quite up to my level of excitement, but I was stunned; a French person liking baseball? I cannot even find a pickup basketball game in this city (despite repeated efforts), and this guy plays baseball?? Long story short, he is bringing his glove after vacation, I'm finally going to put mine to use, and we are going to toss a baseball while discussing International and European Institutions. Color me happy.

Just as I thought that was my only bit of excitement from the week worth sharing, I showed up to my only class today (number two was canceled, again) lugging a backpack that might weigh as much as me across the city so that I could go to class and then head directly to the train station. The class started with only about half of the room full, surprising because it was actually a relatively nice morning, and I figured that if people were sleeping in through this one then they would never be there. Oh no, the professor announced at the beginning that some of our colleagues would be missing for the day, as they were taking part in a protest on this morning. Remind me why I was not invited?

But, the vacation has officially begun, and almost all 23 of us are peace-ing out of Lyon for the duration. Although no one is going back to the States, the list of cities on our collective itinerary reads like a must-see list of any travel guide; highlights include Budapest, Casablanca, Cairo, Florence, Istanbul, London, Madrid, Prague, Rome, and Vienna. The prevailing sense this week was that we were sad to leave Lyon and each other, yet absolutely thrilled to be traveling the world, each of us seeing places we have only dreamed of. Our French may suffer in the interim, but there is always time to catch up on that.

As for me, well, I'll keep you posted. There are four stops on my journey, and I will try to keep this updated at the end of each stop along the way (namely while in transit). Stay tuned.

We're rolling through the French countryside, and for the first time I am wondering how much I will miss this once I leave at the end of December. I still feel as if I just arrived, and now I'm halfway done? Thankfully, I have some vacation time to think it over.