Barcelona, mi amor

When André came to visit me at the end of October, I asked him to bring me a few things from home: pancake mix, maple syrup and my winter coat. Hearing this, our friend Greg laughed at me. He grew up in Belgium; apparently, their winters don’t warrant heavy coats. To be honest, I was actually swallowing my pride in complaining about the cold. Canadians are modest, except when it comes to winter. In fact, people from Ottawa are the worst. No matter what, our snow banks are higher, our temperatures lower and our winds stronger. We’ve all had frostbite to the point where we no longer have feeling in our ears. Did you know we have the second-coldest capital in the world? Even colder than Russia. It’s all very hard-core and impressive.

Anyway, by the end of November it was obvious to me that we were getting into an abnormal Belgian winter. Luckily the weekend that the snow blanketed a paralyzed Louvain-la-Neuve, I was meeting Logan in warm, sunny, beautiful Barcelona!

Once again, I was benefiting from the popularity of the Queen’s exchange program. Our very welcoming classmates, Ran and Rami, had beds and everything ready for us. Within minutes of arriving at their apartment in Barcelona, Logan and I were whisked to La Rambla and to the beach to take in the main sites of the city. That night, my Erasmus got a little bigger when we met the Esade international crew for dinner and for a party at Ran and Rami’s place. Such a great time! There were just enough North Americans to weigh in our favour and play a few exciting rounds of flip cup. Of course, Team Canada was leading the way.

I dragged Logan out of bed at an ungodly hour so we could enjoy the sun and do some of the tourist stuff.  First stop, Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia... despite it being unfinished (how that is the case, I still cannot fathom), it’s quite the sight to behold. Unfortunately, the line was wrapped around the building so we didn’t make it inside, but if what our next stop showed us was any indication, I’m sure it was simply extraordinary. So, in keeping with the Gaudi theme, Logan and I visited Casa Batlló, a privately owned house that was entirely designed by Gaudi. I can’t gush enough about this site. As much as the exterior facade attracts your attention, the inside is... fascinating, quirky, breathtaking. With your entry fee, you get a great audio tour and gain a better appreciation for Gaudi and his fantastic attention to detail (the railings and the doorhandles, for example, are all designed to fit your hand). There are so many different Gaudi buildings to see, it’s difficult to chose, but I certainly recommend this one. It was a great way to spend the first part of our day.

Next, we wondered over to beautiful Parc Monjuïc, which offered amazing views of the city. On our way back to the city centre, we found one of those coveted perfect non-tourist-trap restaurants. I played it safe with Catalonian sausages (which were delicious), while Logan got a little crazy and ordered mussels. I think he might be still regretting those. We did a little window shopping in the gothic quarter, and after a quick nap back at Rami’s, grabbed a drink. At this point, Logan got hit on by the waiter... maybe because he ordered a drink which came with fruit on the side. Rami joined us for dinner at a restaurant near the harbour. After that, he brought us to an awesome bar... Anyone and everyone who goes to Barcelona needs to make this a pit stop. It served only shots. Like 200 of them, each for 2 Euros. In most cases, they require fire. Aweeeesoommmeee. I ordered (what else?) the Harry Potter shot.

Sunday morning, I packed my stuff and went off solo. I had been told Parc Guell was a must, so I wasn’t going to let the opportunity of a sunny day pass me by. To my ultimate delight, Parc Guell is like Gaudi World. It was beautiful and really relaxing. I found myself a bench, snacked on my baguette and read a book. Bliss, baby, bliss.

After a little more shopping in the gothic quarter (CHRISTMAS!), it was a train, a plane, a bus, a train and another train until I was back to Louvain-la-Neuve, completely exhausted. Thanks again to Ran and Rami for their extraordinary hospitality and for sharing their passion for such a fantastic city!

London Calling

For all of you who are leaving on exchange in the next month, you will soon discover that your chances of picking up the native tongue of your host country are just about zilch... good thing you know English. And that’s because at its zenith, the British Empire ruled 20% of the world’s surface, and 25% of its people.  

When I was 10, my family and I visited England on vacation. We spent our first few days in London and there was born my obsession with English royalty. At the Tower of London, my parents bought me a book on the wives of Henry VIII: divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived. Eventually, I became the obnoxious person who suggests Elizabeth as a Friday night movie, points out historical inaccuracies in The Tudors, and yes, is incredibly excited at the new of Prince William and Kate Middleton’s engagement. All this to say, revisiting the largest city in Europe was a high priority on my list... And that I was meeting my dad there was a huge bonus!

My dad flew to London direct from Ottawa for a three-night weekend with his eldest daughter. Brussels being only two hours away by train, this was an ideal meeting spot. Just the night before, I had gone to opening night of Harry Potter with Lucy (a full day ahead of the Canadian release, mind you). Combined with the confirmation of the upcoming royal nuptials, this meant my British fever was at an all-time high.

Mid-day Thursday, my dad and I were reunited. Our first stop: Tower of London (good thing English history is a shared interest... Who do you think I’m watching Elizabeth and The Tudors?). Besides being pretty pricey (£18 for adults), this medieval castle is my favourite sight in London. The audio recounts the deliciously gruesome 1000 year past. Notably, three Queens (Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard and Lady Jane Gray) were beheaded and buried there and this is also where Richard III had his child nephews imprisoned and murdered so he could sit of the thrown.

Ironically, the Tower of London is also home to the Crown Jewels, apparently the most impressive collection in the world. These include a lot of the jewels used at a monarch’s coronation. Also on display, a crown made for the Queen Mother with Koh-i-Noor, the world’s largest diamond (or something... it was impressive).

Another passion of mine was born on my last trip to England: one for Hugh Grant and specifically for his role as lovable self-deprecating Englishman in the delightful 1999 romcom Notting Hill. Actually, this is kind of a Crossman family favourite. All this is to say that in three days in London, my dad and I went to Notting Hill every day. First for dinner on our first night, after which we saw exactly where we wanted to eat on night two. And then since we hadn’t been during the day, we returned on day three. Walking back to our hotel after our first dinner, we came across The Travel Bookshop... Any Hugh Grant fan will tell you that this was extremely exciting.

On Friday, we had the mandatory tourists trap on our agenda: Parliament (and Big Ben), Westminster Abbey, 10 Downing Street, Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace. We actually went inside Parliament and sat in on the House of Commons debate which was pretty cool (Dad! I can’t believe over four decades in Ottawa – you haven’t been in the Canadian Parliament!). Oh, and as we were walking right outside Buckingham, we saw a Bentley with Princess Anne in it. That’s right, my Dad and I know who Princess Anne is AND what she looks like. To finish the afternoon, we went to the Victoria and Albert Museum... best described by the Lonely Planet as the country’s attic. Really interesting and worth the time invested (it’s free!).

Next day, we headed to Portobello Market in Notting Hill... it was so busy and bustling and selling everything known to man. I had Christmas presents on the brain (hint, hint, Val). And then to top it all off, in the street where you could barely move, I ran into my friend Naoki. So let’s recap: that’s a Canadian bumping to a friend from Japan who I know from Belgium in England. Globalization and exchange at its best. We wrapped up the day with a stroll down Kensington Gardens and a visit to the Museum of Natural History (not really worthwhile).

So it was a fantastic weekend... even the sun cooperated. Leaving my Dad on the underground, I started to miss home. A month and I was going to be back in Canada. It seemed too far and too close all at once.

Paris Party People (& Paula)

Long time no blog, I know. November was a blur of travelling and incredible exchange nights, which (un)fortunately means I had no time for blogging. December, on the other hand, is considerably slower thus allowing me to, in the words of the ever wise Ben H., wind down and catch up.

But first. Today is my favorite P's birthday: Paula P's. A grandiose shout out then to my incredible housemate, who I hold in such high esteem and miss incredibly. Happy birthday, petite Paula.

Down to business.

I said in my previous post (and to a number of people) that I was not all that interested places like London, Paris or Rome. We are, I argued, so exposed by the media to images of these cities that once we are there, it's as if we've been there before. It's expected. And that cities like Prague or Budapest were much much more interested. I have come to realize that this is a lot like Logan not getting Facebook until this summer, or Paula not listening to anything that's even played on the radio. Non-conformity for the sake of non-conformity. I concede, I was playing that game to. Then this weekend changed all of that.

It’s 3AM. I’m riding full speed ahead down the middle of a major street, only a few cars in sight.  I’m peddling as hard as I can; desperately trying to keep up to the Polish couple I’ve just met a few hours ago, on whom I am relying to not get lost. And I’m wearing heals. Where else could I be, other than Paris?

Just a few days before that adventure, I was in a totally different kind of desperate situation. In fact, I was faced with a major dilemma, an exchange student’s worst nightmare: thanks to a national holiday in Belgium (L’Armistice, known as Rembrance Day in Canada), I had a five-day weekend ahead and no travel plans. Luckily enough, I have unbelieably gracious and generous friends, such as Ola, who are on Fall exchange in super cool cities and invite me stay in their apartments while they are off discovering foreign lands.

I thought that Paris being 2hrs from Brussels, and the train system in Europe being so superior to that in North America, getting to the City of Lights would be no problem. Word of caution: a last minute ticket will set you back quite a bit. I wasn't willing to spend more on my ride to Paris than my flights Budapest and Venice combined. Friends of mine suggested I look into the bus, and sure enough, it was a third of the price for just an extra hour or travel time. Deal. But first, website wouldn't accept my credit card (which sent me into frenzy and I ended up on the phone with TD through a Skype call to my Dad) and then the national holiday almost kept me Belgian-bound when I couldn't find a printing shop open.

A long day later, I got to Ola's Paris apartment safe and sound. Despite having to pull an all-nighter to finish a suprise paper, she had enough time to introduce me to her friends who in turn introduced me to the Paris nightlife. I have to honest here. Ola's friends were a riot, but, in my humble opinion, the clubs were not. Now, I'm notoriously not cool and my idea of a good time is a Taylor Swift concert, so house music is not exactly up my alley. But still. The clubs were packed, with everyone was just kind of bouncing their heads to a beat instead of dancing. A little Lady Gaga or Journey never killed anybody. In any case, the novelty of partying in Paris was enough to keep me happy and the aformentionned bike ride home was an exchange highlight.

My Paris plan was to do solo sightseeing during the day and meet up in the evening with my UCL friends who were also in town that weekend. This worked out perfectly for me, as I could plan out a jam-packed itinerary of the exact things I wanted to see. Like le Musée des Invalides (French war museum). Unfornately, upon arrival I got a major flashback of my Grade 11 trip during which we had visited this exact place. So I bailed, and moved on to the list's next item: a stroll down les Champs d'Élysés, Place de la Concorde, Jardins des Tuileries and across la Seine to le Musée d'Orsay. What a museum! Not only is it housed in the most gorgeous of buildings, but it contains the most incredible pieces: Monet, Manet, Van Gogh, Renor (I've acquired a taste for Impressionists on this trip). I absolutely recommend this (in particular, you get in free with your European visa - I knew I filled out all that paper work for something). Finally, I wrapped up the day with a visit to le Cimetière du Père Lachaise, other must see: not only does it provide a peaceful break from bustling Paris but it's just as cool as it seems to see a famous person's tomb stone. You can't miss Jim Morrison (follow the guide tour, please), Chopin, Molière, Lafontaine and the WWII section.

I met with my fellow UCL Erasmus students for dinner on my second night. I can't gush enough about what a great group it was: Anne, Malin, Lotta, Helen, Robert, Brandon, Joel, Mattias, Thomas and Naoki. Laughs and crazy antics are guaranteed. Joel will inevitably challenge you to do something ridiculous, Robert and Thomas will belt an inpromptu rendition of Cologne's song, Mattias will sell you the merits of house music, the Swedes will suit up and you'll crack up with Brandon trying to teach everyone the correct use of English slang words. We all got ready in their hostel, suited up (only semi) and then rolled out to Showcase, a located under Alexander III bridge, overlooking la Seine. Somehow, we got in for free (probably had something to do with Anne's Finish blonde hair and blue eyes) and then took in the atmosphere. Once again, atmosphere was pretty much all there was, because despite the phenomenal location, the fabulously stressed patrons and the reknowned DJ, I was disapointed by the lack of... enthusiasm? I think we've all been spoiled by one too many nights at the cercles, jumping up and down to Club Can't Handle Me or shouting BARBRA STREISAND at the top of our lungs.

Woke up the next morning groggy but with a full agenda, of course... mostly consisting of discovering Montmartre. On my two previous trips to Paris I had visited this epic cathedral, but I had never walked up, down and around it. I am so so very glad I did. It was, and I quote Paddy this time, pure bliss. It wasn't hard to find cute Parisian boutiques and just when I was getting a little chilly, God heard my prayer and answered in the form a CUPCAKE shop. People who know me well know that 1) I eat treats and drink tea like it's my job and 2) I leave quite a mess. Elise, I was thinking of you when I got this.

Another bit of Olivia trivia. Favorite scene in a Disney movie: when the Beast presents Belle with his library (oh my, I'm a nerd). So I was exploring the coblestoned hills of Montmartre, and I FOUND IT. With ladders and books all the way up to the ceiling and piles everywhere! It was perfect. I got a copy of Molière's L'Avare for 1 euro and asked the shopkeeper if I could take a picture. He's perfect response was, "... but I don't want to be in it".

I met up with la gang down at Les Halls (shopping district) and it started to rain. Robert & I thought this was a perfect excuse to see the Louvre (once again, we could get in free with our EU residency). Robert is the perfect museum-buddy. He let me choose where I wanted to go first (Napoleon's apartments). Then he led me to the German section and enlightened me on his country's art. There are some moments on exchange when you just feel so incredibly cultured, like you can feel yourself internationalizing: ya, it was something like that. We met up with Brandon and Naoki at the Eiffel Tower for the necessary photo op. At that point, the rain was getting to me and I was oh-so-glad I had Ola's warm cozy apartment to go home to. 

Final morning in Paris: I had a few things left to cross off my list. I trekked off to the Montparnasse district where I visited another cemetery-with-famous-people such as Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre, made sure to see a few notable art nouveau buildings, wondered over to Jardin du Luxembourg (gorgeous, another must) and then ended up just near Notre-Dame-de-Paris. This area was bustling with tourists of course and I couldn't have been happier to be among them. I was having one of those, I'm really really happy with my life right now moments: it was sunny, I was in Europe, I was in Paris and it felt good to be solo. And then I got the MOST delicious egg and ham crêpe and I was over the moon.

It kind of went downhill from there (sorry to kill the mood). I missed my bus back to Brussels and it was hell trying to get on the next one. There being only one agent available for, I would guess, about a hundred people were unbelievably stressful. Here is where I get down on my hand and knees and thank my parents for putting me through school in French and making sure I was fluent, because it truly saved me. Eventually, I got to Brussels, I few hours behind scheduled but back in Belgium, back home, nevertheless.

It only speaks to how deeply I had fallen in love with Paris that despite a hellish trip home, I was still on cloud nine. Or should I say, au septième ciel.