Flyin' Chill with IcelandAir

I used my layover in Iceland to spend the last of my currency (Icelandic Krones from my first layover) on a few last minute souvenirs: coffee (stronger in Europe-praise Jesus), volcanic glass coasters with inlaid glass vikings, mitten/ finger-less convertible gloves.

Coastline for Daaaaaaaaayz

If you ever travel to or from Europe, may I recommend Iceland Air. I have the most amazing flight including wonderful and kind service, an array of meal options, including an unBELIEVable vegetarian meal. They had free movies and TV with a fantastic selection of classics and new releases. And my favorite- an informative documentary of Iceland- I now know where my next major trip is going to be. 

I can smell the trolls from here

Aware as I am now, I may have missed the best time to visit, as it has become a very popularized destination for the younger, hipster 'I went there before it was cool' crowd. It's a country you fools. It's cool regardless of your opinion and relies solely on your willingness to integrate yourself into the local culture and get off the beaten path. All I know, is that I'm ecstatic to plan the day when I can peak behind the fog and search out those 'mysteries unknown'.

So much coast. So much landscape. So much color. If you're curious (which I know you are you cheeky thing, you) -that heart-wrenching feeling I had during my last hours in Paris; it's the same feeling I get every time I watch this glorious music video (filmed in Iceland). I fell in love with Bon Iver years ago, and continue to stalk down every soundbite of his I can get my hands on. Lyrics are not clean, though often not perfectly coherent either.

It's glorious up here

I used my yarn from Denmark and fashioned my headband waiting to board my flight, was asked a lot of questions about where I was from, where I was going, and what was my trip like. It was calming and peaceful to crochet amongst all the passengers before I settled into my seat for the long flight home, enjoying endless movies, and snacks native to Europe that I was able to sneak onto the plane with me.

Island of the PNW, oh to explore those one day soon.

Cascades y'all. I'd've been better served as a wild west explorer

Iceland EXPRESS, I almost jumped a plane back to Tara.

Hehehehe, Trolls.....

Drive- Great actors, disturbing plot, but CRAYONS

Drive was turning out to be a fantastically wonderful slow action thriller until it very suddenly and violently became tragically bloody and topless. Darjeeling Limited was humorously dark and soulfully uplifting, while The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel was pure British delight. What a perfect opportunity to guilt-free, binge watch movies I've had on my 'to watch' list for months!

I'm one blessed, joyful girl.

Oh to be on that plan going somewhere, anywhere.

This trip home was so relaxing after wanting to gogogo, go while in Europe. Looking back now (literally YEARS later) I'm enjoying my blogs more for myself to remember all the beautiful little details rather than sharing them with the world. I hope that if anyone has the stamina to read full through my incoherent babbling, that for a short time, they are entertained and most of all- inspired. I'm an incredibly passionate person; if I enjoy something, I LOVE in, if I don't care for it, I still deny interest with vehemence, and usually if I dislike something, I loath it. I believe in being passionate and childlike in the world, exploring with cynicism and an openness to what may come your way and feeling comfortable in uncomfortable situations. I am unabashedly enthusiastic, follow me and see. 

My Heart and Soul

Let me preface this story with, again, the fact that I'm am writing this post over THREE years after my trip.

Spring in Paris

I'll start with a quote, "I have only written about those moments that i consider memorable," Roald Dahl wrote this of the second of his autobiographies and I believe it a true statement.


I have been accused of long winded story telling, exhageration, and over-emotional falshoods. I prefer to think in the vein of oral storytelling as most indigenous peoples originally passed down traditions, legends, morals, and faith. The more vivid and intricated details are the better and more memorable the tale. As we all age and those poignant feeling fade, I choose to remember for as long as I can with as much passion as I originally had.

Shadows fade with the sun, and so must I

So this shall end in shadow. One traveler, two bags, three countries, and four hours left in Paris.


My goodbyes were short, as i'm not particularly fond of them, and Christy and Mark were still in bed. Christy had a game that day and needed to stay at home, and I was fully capable and willing to travel into Paris on my own.


The two bags made my last day a little less enjoyable, but I didn't have anywhere to leaves them- enter weird hand blisters-who knew.

For how much love and adoration I have for Notre Dame, it left our fling on a slightly sour note.

Can you see why it's my favorite

My last day in Paris was also Palm Sunday, and I was enthralled that I would get to be present in an actual service there.

Why all these views from the exterior you ask? because I was DENIED entry to the church.

I was told, in crystal clear English (Parlez vous Anglais?  YES, they all know English to some extent, if you're truly desperate.) That I couldn't bring my bags in. Could I leave them outside? (risk them being stolen- sure) No; they would call the police. Could I open the bags and SHOW them all my dirty drawers? No; I still would not be allowed access. I asked for the symbolic palms and if I could take one to sit in meditation out front? No; those were for the patrons attending the service.

There have not been many times I've been emotional in public and I was a bit ashamed to tear up in front of this very brusque french gentleman outside a church service. It did not matter. I found a solitary bench back in the garden and cried.

Spring Spring Spring in Paris

The place was still beautiful, and for that I cried.

I grained my composure, after all, I looked the part of a tourist that day, and emotional outburst in public make strangers uncomfortable.

I began to roam around and though I was already aware of this fact, it struck me yet again that at 9 AM, nothing was open. No stores, shops, very few and random cafes. I decided to get lost one last time.




I enjoyed the love locks and commiserate that many bridges are endangered because of the weight of all the love (check out that double entendre!) I propose a solution: elevate the current fencing and detache from the bridge on separate supports, then reconstruct the feces for the bridge, leaving the old fence for more LOVE

Iconic

So big!

In crossing the Seine, I happened across a family of Americans searching for Notre Dame asking in their best accent if anyone spoke English in French, to which I happily relied in English, gave them directions, enjoyed a few minutes chat with recommendations and knowledge that Christy passed along to me and few suggestions from my previous roaming.

So tired, no coffee, still happy

Note, NOTHING is open before 10 AM. I walked past the beautiful Shakespeare and Co again, and after giving another group of American directions, meandered my way to the Eiffel Tower for another farewell.


I did my best to find another metro entrance, but chose to make my way up to the Trocadero and one last iconic view of Paris. I stopped to enjoy and floating, very New Orleans-esque band that was just so upbeat I had to groove my way past.









I was in funky spirits, and on the point of one of my hysterics that happen whenever I feel too complacent, am facing the finish line of a wild adventure, or the prospect of returning home, that I seemed to have missed the building magic.


My heart was contracting with tension, my breathing was short and shallow, and my vision was lowering a bizarrely blurry shade that made crisp edges fuzzy. If you've never experienced this, I doubt your heart longs for adventure or your soul yearns for the adventure and joyful mishaps of travel. Some prefer adventures that reside in the home and that's OK too.

Fountains outside the Trocadero is their full glory- It's impressive to say the least.

I could've gone swimming

It was like being released after a long day in tight, uncomfortable, professional clothing. It was pure joy. Christy had previously told be about how and certain points in the day all the fountains would start up and the spectacular-ness when it happens; she did not exaggerate. I was able to walk the full length and glory. It was the perfect last view in Paris.

So it ends where it began.

When the fountains set back into their daily routine, I made my way up ALL the steps, gave a passing glance to the dumpsters where I found the chalk boards now backs away in my dragging and unbalanced suitcases- case in point, only use suitcases with wide spread wheels.

I found my metro train to the airport, transfered once and set it for my final glances in the beautiful and cohesive meshing of old and new in France.

Still my favorite despite the turn away.

Little did I know this country had a last gift for me....

Sitting there contended in what I had recently witness, I was aware of an eccentric man who was rambling on to no one in particular and gesticulating in rapid French (not that i'd have know what he was saying even if it was spoken phonetically). He literally chased three passengers into another car, following them shortly after they had regained new seating. It made me giggle a bit (I was on an emotional high).

As the car door shut, from the other end came none other than..... an ACCORDION player!!! It was a strange contrast to the dirty metro, so I closed my eyes, pictured a romantically lit street on a cool Parisian evening, nibbling delicate desserts and sipping coffee after a subtle meal.

It was bliss; the music was heartrendingly wonderful, and I made my way regretfully into the terminal having ended on the perfect end to Paris.

No jam or Nutella allowed through security!? Are they MAD????

The Day the Music Almost Died

That freakin' coat man!

I'm still continually in awe of Christy's jacket that seems to act as the perfect on board cocoon to shut out the world and allow sleep to wash over. Plus, it's super fashionable!

That being said, this day has fully projectile launched me into the musical Caen- way too early might I add. This trip was specifically planned in junction with a FLASHMOB!!! If you don't know what a flashmob is, you could YouTube a plethora of video in evidence to its affect. Ours was in specific support of something I now forget, and in all honesty don't care to look it up for that end, but we wore red.

My aunt my say sacrilegious 

At this juncture, being so far off from the actual trip, I can't quite remember the time our train left, I just remember it was earlier than the sun itself. Weather and distance did not permit what I originally hoped would be a partial trip to my frightening obsession on this earth- the ocean. While all three of us drifted in and out of consciousness, we [meaning mostly myself] would sneak pictures, and collaboratively postpone watching the video necessary for today's trip.

After arriving we immediately sought out a map and tried to figure out where the heck we were, where we needed to go, and how we were getting there. The most entertaining part of this was, while I was continually grabbing maps at their 'travel/tourist' center near the train depot, which wasn't really helpful since I kept grabbing the same things, none of which were maps, Christy was trying to get help from a gentleman behind a counter.

I love a good angle

This exchange was most interesting because, he being French and her being American, he would speak English to her, while in turn she would respond in French. I find it so intriguing that so many tourists expect to be accommodated in other countries, when WE are in fact the VISITORS, and should play by the house rules. With Christy living in France and playing volleyball for them, she has been taking French lessons and thank the Lord for being able to travel with someone who could negotiate, reason, question, and answer when Tanya or I failed to.

Back on point- we figured out where we were going, got super cheap metro passes just by taking a few extra minutes while Christy realized we could get and use a 'family' pass for up to three or four people. On our way into the more central part of town, there was a woman on board near us, who had a cat...... who looked, possibly, malnourished and was quite literally straining itself to the point of breaking to escape her clutch, while she spoke reassuringly to it in French, to which Christy translated something to the affect of, "Oh, its ok. Good kitty; we're almost there." And other such useless phrases to a cat determined on freedom. Christy, Tanya, and I just tried not to burst laughing while still in close proximity to the woman we aptly dubbed 'The Crazy Cat Lady'

Nothing beats perfect timing, and creeping on strangers

We found the area the flash mob would be in and then set out to find interesting things to do/ see in the area including a cathedral [always], the chateaux/ old castle battlements, an abbey, and oh, just happened to stumble upon the site where William the Conqueror is lain to rest...

We stumbled upon/found the ruins of... a castle; that's the beautiful thing about older cultures... there are CASTLES, and I'm as much a fan of them as Swags seems to be.

Where the fortress was once high and the moat ran with water, there has long been ruins and a dried ditch. Here, Christy pulled through yet again and our tour of the grounds and the museums were FREE! Had we actually been students it would've been free anyways and either Christy is very charming, or the person we were planning to get our tickets from was being generous. I think it may have been a bit of both.

The church was lovely, the main 'castle' wasn't really that interesting, but the museum there was quite fun. We found armor, and old dresses, tools that they made lace with, bizarre leprechaun looking things, spiral staircases, and I think we may have even found Narnia. My favorite was an empty glass case, that I could only presume contained some 15th century air....

Lucky Charm

Tedious Lace

"And so for a time it looked as if all the adventures were coming to an end, but that was not to be."

At some point in our self guided tour, I realized- I don't think I'd gone to the bathroom that day- AT ALL!!! I ran all the way, meandering through cases and items that should not be touched, let alone bulldozed over, to the entrance in search of the toilets. I desperately mimed/ potty dances/ franglished my request to the gentleman in the front, only for him to calmly walk me right back to the room from whence I came to watch Swags and Tanya snicker evilly as he pointed to the door I was standing in front of when my revelation had first dawned. Pointless story- maybe, but who doesn't enjoy a good old tale of the toilets.

Having explored the nooks and crannies like anyone one with half our combined curiosity would, we ventured for FOOOOOOD. 

We found a different sort of nook with some delicious entrees, unfortunately, they apparently didn't own a single squirt of ketchup. Having asked for some when ordering, I wait to this very day for that ketchup. I'm still torn up about this as you can tell.

We sat there eating slow and enjoying the warmth, because the outdoors had turned against us. Since the purpose of our trip here was to join in this flash mob, we figured it was about time to get down to business and learn the routine. After our focus proved ineffective, as was our attempt to share a single device on opposite sides of a table, we plotted contingency plans for when we proved amateur status in our endeavor.

These ploys ranged from the simple to the ridiculous, to joining after the difficult part, mimicking along, to standing watch, positioning ourselves a few rows in from the back and bailing when we realized we suck, or even just snapping a photo inside the crowd then sneaking off. The plans became more refined and improbable, which I now realize foretold of career paths we would never take- as spies.

We meandered the street, biding our time until our eventual decisive climactic moment. We also attempted to keep warm by continually ducking into shops. As the moment rose to greet us, we found ourselves part of a large crowd gathering in the doomed square. We positioned ourselves so that whatever action we took, we could be both a part of the action, and the onlookers.

Watch for Christy to run in from your top right at 3:02 and Tanya follow shortly after at 3:10

This is the video I took from the side, while safeguarding all of our bags............

Making a quick loop back to earlier in the day in the castle grounds, we desperately attempted to get three shots using my camera timer, as opposed to (seriously take note, people) video recording a jump on an iApple device and then using a screen shot for the perfect moment; you'd never know you didn't just have perfect timing (BIG shout out to Christy as she's the one who originally told me this, also explaining all her amazing iTunes card poses). The shots were supposed to be walking away, forward and jumping......

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That's it, we give up.

Screw that, let's twist this.

JudooooooCHOP!

Alas, Sweet Success.

   

And again.......

'Merica

After our attempt at flash-mobbing (three years later, still not sure I understand WHY this is a thing, or ever was) Christy found this adorable little bobbles shop with random gift/ quirky things and asked before gifting me one of the most important items in my day to day life, if she spent money on this item, if I'd actually use it. I'm happy to report that my WALLET is currently and has been in ever-use since the day it was given to me. I still misplace my keys whenever they are not immediately returned to the safe haven that is the "Items to treasure; NOT to loose" home they've come to know.

That generous moment propels me onward to the last amazing finds we have in Caen....

Welcome to the Saint-Etienne Abbey, or the Abbey aux Hommes ( men's abby), where, unbeknownst to us, is the burial place of none other than William the Conqueror!!!! This is partially why I believe so strongly in traveling to Europe, and so many places really. You have the fortunate luck to turn a corner and stumble on to some of the world's most notorious history (the Western world, at the very least in this case. Travel people, just get out and travel.

Woop, there it is.

My Brit Lit profs would be so proud.

Remember when Organs were more than
a single story high? Yeah, neither do I

My most favorite of stained glass

I play hide and seek

While Christy Reflect in worshop

We are the faithful. Castles are cool, but Cathedrals are constant

Gah! I'm speechless.

If we ever start a boy band, this would be our first cover

I like missing the 'perfect' moment

In exchange for the BEST moment

Clearly, Tanya is just more talented

The Abby had this great back boor while we were lost finding the entrance, that happened to be next to the greatest brick backdrop for some weird photos. Also the RED backdoor just happened to be unlocked-granting us unmitigated access.

This photo is the perfect seg-way into...

Yeah, after over three years, and three moves, it's time to shut this freakin' post down! "Finally!" you're thinking. Probably why this post was so long-to make up for all the time in between actually writing it in retrospect. Never fear, there are two posts yet to appear, they should be up by 2027.

Instead, an accurate depiction of war

What a fitting reaction to our departure and return to Christy's little nook to meet up with Mark for a night of Crepes. The little family run Creperie was as every bit authentic and quirky as Christy said it would be. It was a beautiful night of new and old friends, conversation, and amazing food.

Nice tail end- I was totally prepared for a face of viscous determination