Monday. Paris.
Brussels was my first stop during spring break, and the only thing for which I found the city truly memorable was its food. My diet in Brussels consisted for the most part of fries, waffles, beer and chocolate. Certainly not the most healthy, but definitely very satisfying and tasty.
Food places worth mentioning are: Maison Antoine and Mama Roma's in Place Jourdain for fries and pizza, respectively; and any waffle stand for "gaufres liègois."
A picturesque town with random (but aesthetically pleasing) murals painted on building walls, Art-Nouveau and Art-Deco houses, there's nothing much to the city otherwise. The Manneken Pis is Brussels' Mona Lisa — overhyped, tiny and surrounded by tourists. The Atomium, which may look like an eyesore from afar, tends to make for some interesting viewing if you sit right beneath it. The Musée des Beaux Arts disappointed me, to say the least (I have, after all, been to the Prado, Louvre and Uffizi). Among the other highlights of my trip was the chance to catch up with an old friend from Bombay, and reminisce about home a bit.
I also got a chance to meet some Belgians thanks to Paige (who was couchsurfing at someone's house). Her host graciously invited us over to partake in some chocolate fondue. Simple, yet delicious. It sure was interesting hearing our host and her friend, both natives of Flanders (the Dutch speaking part of Belgium) talk about how it was to be a young adult in Belgium. What struck me as mildly amusing was the fact that our host's friend said that if you were young and Belgian, then there's nothing left in this country for you and that one should emigrate to Switzerland or Brazil. Why Switzerland? I don't know. It certainly doesn't have too much more happening than Belgium, I'd say.
Beer, beer, beer.
Monday. Paris.
I've come back from my two-week whirlwind tour of four European cities, and there's much to say about each. You'll read more about them in subsequent posts, however. This post is devoted to the various beers I've tried while traveling through Belgium, the Netherlands and the Czech Republic, given that these countries are fairly well known for their beers (Belgium, especially). So check out the pictures below of some the various beers I've tried. (Keep in mind though that I'm no expert when it comes to beer, so this isn't really a critique of the beers I've tried)
Kozel and Gambrinus (CZ)
Staropramen (CZ) and Bavaria Pilsner (NL)
Floris Honey and Satan's Gold (B) — I just wanted to try the latter for its name.
Kwak and Floris Framboise (B)
Chimay and Trappiste Rochefort (B)
I've come back from my two-week whirlwind tour of four European cities, and there's much to say about each. You'll read more about them in subsequent posts, however. This post is devoted to the various beers I've tried while traveling through Belgium, the Netherlands and the Czech Republic, given that these countries are fairly well known for their beers (Belgium, especially). So check out the pictures below of some the various beers I've tried. (Keep in mind though that I'm no expert when it comes to beer, so this isn't really a critique of the beers I've tried)
Kozel and Gambrinus (CZ)
Staropramen (CZ) and Bavaria Pilsner (NL)
Floris Honey and Satan's Gold (B) — I just wanted to try the latter for its name.
Kwak and Floris Framboise (B)
Chimay and Trappiste Rochefort (B)
Vive le printemps!
Thursday. Paris.
As I said earlier, spring time is here! Which means I'm off. It's my turn to be touristy in various northern locales - Brussels, Amsterdam, Prague and Berlin. I'm not entirely sure about how accessible I'll be during the next two weeks, but will try and post now and then as I get the time.
Hopefully I don't annoy any local (or pseudo-local for that matter) enough to make them want to punch me.
As I said earlier, spring time is here! Which means I'm off. It's my turn to be touristy in various northern locales - Brussels, Amsterdam, Prague and Berlin. I'm not entirely sure about how accessible I'll be during the next two weeks, but will try and post now and then as I get the time.
Hopefully I don't annoy any local (or pseudo-local for that matter) enough to make them want to punch me.
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09 April, 2009
An American Invasion / A Venting Session
Monday. Paris.
Paris has been overflowing with tourists of all kind this whole month - especially Americans. Or they seem to be the most conspicuous group of tourists at least (though I think the Italians give them decent competition).
March being spring break season across the Atlantic is probably why I'm suddenly hearing more English in the Metro than French; why I suddenly see an invasion of Coach bags and college sweatshirts; and why I always get stuck in the middle of such crowds.
Perhaps this is the inner Parisian in me coming out, but I have a strong urge to punch some of more exuberant breed of tourists, especially when I hear them complain about how the Mona Lisa should have been bigger so that the entire Metro car can hear them, or that "Noterdaim (Notre Dame for those uninitiated to the wonders of the American accent) was like so cool."
I do admit, however, that I was one of those unbearable tourists too. But after having lived here for almost a year I can thankfully say that this is no longer the case, which gives me at least some licence to vent. J'en ai marre.
Paris has been overflowing with tourists of all kind this whole month - especially Americans. Or they seem to be the most conspicuous group of tourists at least (though I think the Italians give them decent competition).
March being spring break season across the Atlantic is probably why I'm suddenly hearing more English in the Metro than French; why I suddenly see an invasion of Coach bags and college sweatshirts; and why I always get stuck in the middle of such crowds.
Perhaps this is the inner Parisian in me coming out, but I have a strong urge to punch some of more exuberant breed of tourists, especially when I hear them complain about how the Mona Lisa should have been bigger so that the entire Metro car can hear them, or that "Noterdaim (Notre Dame for those uninitiated to the wonders of the American accent) was like so cool."
I do admit, however, that I was one of those unbearable tourists too. But after having lived here for almost a year I can thankfully say that this is no longer the case, which gives me at least some licence to vent. J'en ai marre.
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30 March, 2009
Springtime in France
Monday. Paris.
So the sun's finally come out here, and Paris has never been lovelier (or more overridden with tourists since my arrival). I've spent many a day lazing around in the Jardin du Luxembourg, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont or just walking around on the rive gauche. It's somewhat ironic that as I'm writing this, typical Parisian weather is back with a vengeance and it's been cold, windy and rainy for the past few days. Strange and fickle thing, this weather.
We did have some good sunshine in Provence on the Sweet Briar weekend trip, in spite of the bitterly cold Mistral which blows through the Rhone valley. The whirlwind tour consisted of visits to Arles, the Pont du Gard (a Roman aqueduct), les Baux de Provence (where Bauxite was discovered...hence the name) and Avignon (yes, with the bridge too).
There's not too much to say about these places, but I did manage to take a few pretty pictures (I'm a sucker for alliteration at times), so here you go.
Spring comes to Paris.
Les Baux and the Pont du Gard.
The Amphitheâtre in Arles and a garden in Avignon.
The Ponts du Gard and d'Avignon, respectively.
So the sun's finally come out here, and Paris has never been lovelier (or more overridden with tourists since my arrival). I've spent many a day lazing around in the Jardin du Luxembourg, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont or just walking around on the rive gauche. It's somewhat ironic that as I'm writing this, typical Parisian weather is back with a vengeance and it's been cold, windy and rainy for the past few days. Strange and fickle thing, this weather.
We did have some good sunshine in Provence on the Sweet Briar weekend trip, in spite of the bitterly cold Mistral which blows through the Rhone valley. The whirlwind tour consisted of visits to Arles, the Pont du Gard (a Roman aqueduct), les Baux de Provence (where Bauxite was discovered...hence the name) and Avignon (yes, with the bridge too).
There's not too much to say about these places, but I did manage to take a few pretty pictures (I'm a sucker for alliteration at times), so here you go.
Spring comes to Paris.
Les Baux and the Pont du Gard.
The Amphitheâtre in Arles and a garden in Avignon.
The Ponts du Gard and d'Avignon, respectively.
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23 March, 2009
Yes, Prime Minister
Tuesday. Paris.
Students from the program were invited to a private guided tour of the Hôtel de Matignon, which is the Prime Minister's residence in Paris. The residence isn't usually open to guided visits, and you need to be invited personally by the Prime Minister to visit, so we did luck out.
A bit of French politics 101: the Prime Minister is the chief of the government, whereas the President (everyone's favorite little man, Monsieur Sarkozy) is the chief of state. The Prime Minister has no real executive power, and only carries out the directives of the President. Given that, he's not the most important political figure in the country, but he still is le Premier Ministre nonetheless.
The property is set in the heart of the 7th arrondissement, which makes for prime real estate (hobnobbing with the Eiffel Tower, Musée d'Orsay and the Hôtel des Invalides among others), and apparently has the largest private garden in the city, even bigger than that of the Palais d'Elysée itself. The Elysée is the President's official residence on the other side of the Seine.
Of the parts of Matignon that we did get to see (the official meeting and dining rooms), I wasn't surprised to find them resplendently decorated a Baroque/Roccoco stye. Walls were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes from Don Quixote and marble inlays. We also happened to see a table laid for the Conseil d'État's breakfast the next day along with a tiny menu of what each Minister takes in the morning. Monsieur le Premier Ministre, it seems, is content with just an espresso.
The visit was a short one, as the council was scheduled to meet right after we were supposed to leave. Now you can't have 30 foreign students roaming around the Prime Minister's residence while affairs of the state are being put into action, can you?
PS We weren't allowed to take pictures inside the building.
Students from the program were invited to a private guided tour of the Hôtel de Matignon, which is the Prime Minister's residence in Paris. The residence isn't usually open to guided visits, and you need to be invited personally by the Prime Minister to visit, so we did luck out.
A bit of French politics 101: the Prime Minister is the chief of the government, whereas the President (everyone's favorite little man, Monsieur Sarkozy) is the chief of state. The Prime Minister has no real executive power, and only carries out the directives of the President. Given that, he's not the most important political figure in the country, but he still is le Premier Ministre nonetheless.
The property is set in the heart of the 7th arrondissement, which makes for prime real estate (hobnobbing with the Eiffel Tower, Musée d'Orsay and the Hôtel des Invalides among others), and apparently has the largest private garden in the city, even bigger than that of the Palais d'Elysée itself. The Elysée is the President's official residence on the other side of the Seine.
Of the parts of Matignon that we did get to see (the official meeting and dining rooms), I wasn't surprised to find them resplendently decorated a Baroque/Roccoco stye. Walls were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes from Don Quixote and marble inlays. We also happened to see a table laid for the Conseil d'État's breakfast the next day along with a tiny menu of what each Minister takes in the morning. Monsieur le Premier Ministre, it seems, is content with just an espresso.
The visit was a short one, as the council was scheduled to meet right after we were supposed to leave. Now you can't have 30 foreign students roaming around the Prime Minister's residence while affairs of the state are being put into action, can you?
PS We weren't allowed to take pictures inside the building.
1 comments
10 March, 2009
Al-Andalous
Paris. Thursday.
The main reason why I wanted to go to Cordoba was to see the Cathedral (La Mezquita), and I think that's the only reason why I would. A very tiny town about two hours south of Madrid by train, Cordoba makes for a perfect day trip.
The Cathedral was fantastic — I'm very glad that I got to see it. For those who don't know what's so special about the Mezquita (the names can be used interchangeably) is the fact that it used to be a church before the Moors came to Andalucia, then was made into a mosque by the Moors, and once again converted back into a cathedral after the Moors were expelled from Andalucia. So you have a large mosque with characteristic Islamic architecture with a large cathedral right in the middle of it all. It makes for interesting viewing, that's for sure. Check out pictures below.
It was also an interesting experience walking around the small and narrow streets, some of which would go on and on without being intersected by any other streets. It would get mildly frustrating if we wanted to get some place, but we did stumble upon a few interesting windows, houses and restaurants because of that.
Other than the Cathedral, Cordoba was mildly disappointing - especially the nightlife. Everything, and I mean everything, was shut by 10 p.m. In Madrid, we'd go out for dinner at that time, and that would still be on the earlier side. Marissa and I thought Cordoba would be the same, but were sorely mistaken, and barely managed to find dinner before everything closed.
I don't have much to say about Seville other than that I would like to go back there. I only spent 12 hours there (it being my transit between Cordoba and Paris), and would definitely want to spend more time there. It seems to be a very vibrant and lively city (especially after the bore that was Cordoba) and I also really want to visit the Cathedral there considering it was shut by the time I got there and I only got to walk around it.
And there you have it, my trip to Iberia. I think I much preferred it to my week in Italy - far more enjoyable.
The main reason why I wanted to go to Cordoba was to see the Cathedral (La Mezquita), and I think that's the only reason why I would. A very tiny town about two hours south of Madrid by train, Cordoba makes for a perfect day trip.
The Cathedral was fantastic — I'm very glad that I got to see it. For those who don't know what's so special about the Mezquita (the names can be used interchangeably) is the fact that it used to be a church before the Moors came to Andalucia, then was made into a mosque by the Moors, and once again converted back into a cathedral after the Moors were expelled from Andalucia. So you have a large mosque with characteristic Islamic architecture with a large cathedral right in the middle of it all. It makes for interesting viewing, that's for sure. Check out pictures below.
It was also an interesting experience walking around the small and narrow streets, some of which would go on and on without being intersected by any other streets. It would get mildly frustrating if we wanted to get some place, but we did stumble upon a few interesting windows, houses and restaurants because of that.
Other than the Cathedral, Cordoba was mildly disappointing - especially the nightlife. Everything, and I mean everything, was shut by 10 p.m. In Madrid, we'd go out for dinner at that time, and that would still be on the earlier side. Marissa and I thought Cordoba would be the same, but were sorely mistaken, and barely managed to find dinner before everything closed.
I don't have much to say about Seville other than that I would like to go back there. I only spent 12 hours there (it being my transit between Cordoba and Paris), and would definitely want to spend more time there. It seems to be a very vibrant and lively city (especially after the bore that was Cordoba) and I also really want to visit the Cathedral there considering it was shut by the time I got there and I only got to walk around it.
And there you have it, my trip to Iberia. I think I much preferred it to my week in Italy - far more enjoyable.
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05 March, 2009
Tapas, Museos y mas Tapas.
Sunday. Paris.
And now we've crossed the border back into España, spending a few days in Madrid. If this city were by the sea, it would be perfect. I've never quite been to a city like Madrid — it's probably the most different from Paris than any of the other European capitals I've visited. Large, busy and bustling, and yet the same time an epitome of that Spanish laissez-faire laid back attitude, Madrid is a very pleasant city and I could easily see myself spending a semester there. What struck me is the fact that even though the city's fairly spread out and massive, it's very walkable; especially the city centre. You have a relatively impressive metro system as well (only Paris and New York could outshine it in terms of complexity and accessibility).
Cody and I stayed at a hotel just minutes away from the Plaza Mayor and the Puerta del Sol; and about a 20-minute walk from El Retiro (Madrid's version of Central Park) and that trinity of museums - El Prado, La Reina Sofia and the Thyssen-Bornemisza. The Retiro, whose avenues and walkways are named after Spain's former colonies, is the perfect to spend a Sunday afternoon. Most Madrileños, however feel the same way, and that also makes it unbearably crowded — it wouldn't be surprising if you were mowed down by the amateur rollerblader, biker or the occasional baby pram. We did end up picnicking on sandwiches and wine with Marissa (one of Cody's and my colleagues at work who is studying in Madrid this semester) one afternoon during the week, and it was far more relaxed.
In addition to the Retiro, Madrid has a host of parks all over the place, including the Parque del Oeste, which is huge, hilly, far more relaxed and far less touristy. You can witness a spectacular sunset from the Ancient Egyptian temple (photos below) on one end of the park. It's funny indeed how most major European cities have their share of Ancient Egyptian artefacts and treasures.
You can't go to Madrid without visiting the Reina Sofia and the Prado, and sure enough, we did. We were treated to Picasso's obra-maestra, Guernica, and several works by Dali at the Reina Sofia; and a wealth of Bosch and El Greco at the Prado. The Thyssen, however, was my favourite. It's the world's largest private collection of art, spanning 700 years of painting and arranged in chronological order. You start with mediaeval Christian triptychs and end with Modigliani and O'Keefe with some Titian and Monet on the way.
Abhinay's culinary discoveries in Madrid included "montaditos" or tiny sandwiches whose fillings you choose; and patatas bravas — crispy potatoes cooked in a garlicky sauce. What also amazed me about Madrid's food and bar scene was how cheap it was; and furthermore, the fact that these tapas bars are ridiculously crowded 10 pm onwards, and it's a battle between finding place to stand, holding your plate of tapas in your hand along with your drink without letting either of the two fall on the floor and eventually eating said tapas. And if you think I went to Spain without having my fill of churros y chocolate, you are mistaken — I sure did.
And now we've crossed the border back into España, spending a few days in Madrid. If this city were by the sea, it would be perfect. I've never quite been to a city like Madrid — it's probably the most different from Paris than any of the other European capitals I've visited. Large, busy and bustling, and yet the same time an epitome of that Spanish laissez-faire laid back attitude, Madrid is a very pleasant city and I could easily see myself spending a semester there. What struck me is the fact that even though the city's fairly spread out and massive, it's very walkable; especially the city centre. You have a relatively impressive metro system as well (only Paris and New York could outshine it in terms of complexity and accessibility).
Cody and I stayed at a hotel just minutes away from the Plaza Mayor and the Puerta del Sol; and about a 20-minute walk from El Retiro (Madrid's version of Central Park) and that trinity of museums - El Prado, La Reina Sofia and the Thyssen-Bornemisza. The Retiro, whose avenues and walkways are named after Spain's former colonies, is the perfect to spend a Sunday afternoon. Most Madrileños, however feel the same way, and that also makes it unbearably crowded — it wouldn't be surprising if you were mowed down by the amateur rollerblader, biker or the occasional baby pram. We did end up picnicking on sandwiches and wine with Marissa (one of Cody's and my colleagues at work who is studying in Madrid this semester) one afternoon during the week, and it was far more relaxed.
In addition to the Retiro, Madrid has a host of parks all over the place, including the Parque del Oeste, which is huge, hilly, far more relaxed and far less touristy. You can witness a spectacular sunset from the Ancient Egyptian temple (photos below) on one end of the park. It's funny indeed how most major European cities have their share of Ancient Egyptian artefacts and treasures.
You can't go to Madrid without visiting the Reina Sofia and the Prado, and sure enough, we did. We were treated to Picasso's obra-maestra, Guernica, and several works by Dali at the Reina Sofia; and a wealth of Bosch and El Greco at the Prado. The Thyssen, however, was my favourite. It's the world's largest private collection of art, spanning 700 years of painting and arranged in chronological order. You start with mediaeval Christian triptychs and end with Modigliani and O'Keefe with some Titian and Monet on the way.
Abhinay's culinary discoveries in Madrid included "montaditos" or tiny sandwiches whose fillings you choose; and patatas bravas — crispy potatoes cooked in a garlicky sauce. What also amazed me about Madrid's food and bar scene was how cheap it was; and furthermore, the fact that these tapas bars are ridiculously crowded 10 pm onwards, and it's a battle between finding place to stand, holding your plate of tapas in your hand along with your drink without letting either of the two fall on the floor and eventually eating said tapas. And if you think I went to Spain without having my fill of churros y chocolate, you are mistaken — I sure did.
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01 March, 2009
Vinho Verde in the Bairro Alto
Sunday. Paris.
I'm back from my winter vacation in the Iberian Peninsula - Lisbon, Madrid, Cordoba and Seville (for just a short while). I'm sure you've been wanting to hear about my trip, so I'll be writing about each place in a separate post (to avoid making one VERY long post). Let's start with Lisboa.
Lisbon is one of those cities which is past its zenith and where one can see echoes of this former grandeur throughout — the large cobbled footpaths; massive churches, building façades laden with ceramic tiles; and those ubiquitous trams that take you back to the early 1900s. The city is relatively hilly, and hence you have a maze of narrow winding streets lined with rundown buildings. Two of Lisbon's neighbourhoods, the Bairro Alto and the Alfama are situated on such hilly areas, making for some interesting walking. Cody and I were staying in the Baixa neighbourhood right in between the two — the historic city center. The Bairro Alto is a somewhat chic area with tiny shops and scores of restaurants, whereas the Alfama is a little more classic, and is dominated by the Castel São Jorge (which provides you with some magnificent views of the city, by the way).
Among our culinary discoveries in Lisbon were "vinho verde" or green wine, which is a refreshingly light and crisp white wine, in fact. We had fun opening a bottle in our room one evening without any corkscrew. I also tried the "pasteix de nata" (sp.) or custard tartlets, which made for a delicious breakfast one morning. They can be found in any bakery in the city.
The only thing about Lisbon that disappointed me was its lack of waterfront, inspite of it being along the Tejo, which is quite a large river (if at all, it feels more like a bay). Barring a tiny kilometre-long stretch with a few cafés, most of Lisbon's waterfront is dockland. From the looks of it, Belem which is further down the Tejo may have had a better developed waterfront, but I'll need to visit that the next time I'm in Portugal.
On a final but separate note, I'm glad I finally visited Portugal because I've now visited all the Romance countries, the others being France, Spain and Italy. It sure is interesting comparing the language and the way it's used in each country — I've had quite the time drawing parallels between all four.
Check out some Lisboa photos below.
I'm back from my winter vacation in the Iberian Peninsula - Lisbon, Madrid, Cordoba and Seville (for just a short while). I'm sure you've been wanting to hear about my trip, so I'll be writing about each place in a separate post (to avoid making one VERY long post). Let's start with Lisboa.
Lisbon is one of those cities which is past its zenith and where one can see echoes of this former grandeur throughout — the large cobbled footpaths; massive churches, building façades laden with ceramic tiles; and those ubiquitous trams that take you back to the early 1900s. The city is relatively hilly, and hence you have a maze of narrow winding streets lined with rundown buildings. Two of Lisbon's neighbourhoods, the Bairro Alto and the Alfama are situated on such hilly areas, making for some interesting walking. Cody and I were staying in the Baixa neighbourhood right in between the two — the historic city center. The Bairro Alto is a somewhat chic area with tiny shops and scores of restaurants, whereas the Alfama is a little more classic, and is dominated by the Castel São Jorge (which provides you with some magnificent views of the city, by the way).
Among our culinary discoveries in Lisbon were "vinho verde" or green wine, which is a refreshingly light and crisp white wine, in fact. We had fun opening a bottle in our room one evening without any corkscrew. I also tried the "pasteix de nata" (sp.) or custard tartlets, which made for a delicious breakfast one morning. They can be found in any bakery in the city.
The only thing about Lisbon that disappointed me was its lack of waterfront, inspite of it being along the Tejo, which is quite a large river (if at all, it feels more like a bay). Barring a tiny kilometre-long stretch with a few cafés, most of Lisbon's waterfront is dockland. From the looks of it, Belem which is further down the Tejo may have had a better developed waterfront, but I'll need to visit that the next time I'm in Portugal.
On a final but separate note, I'm glad I finally visited Portugal because I've now visited all the Romance countries, the others being France, Spain and Italy. It sure is interesting comparing the language and the way it's used in each country — I've had quite the time drawing parallels between all four.
Check out some Lisboa photos below.
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