p'tit Nicola in Ben Vautier's house of thought-provoking quotes. Ex: Tous le monde sait que Ben aime toucher les femmes. Ach, les artistes francaises.
Vieux Nice--so beautiful!
Left: Showing appreciation for environment artist Christo, who is notorious for wrapping various public monuments. Ex: Pont Neuf, Central Park, German Parliament buildings. He gets around.
Above: a Specialite Nicoise: Socca. Sort of a fried chickpea bread. Yum. Also tried "tourte de blette" a strange and wonderful shortbread layer-ed square with pinenuts, raisens and leafy swiss chard in a sugary sauce...umm.
Above left: Sarah and Nicola in the Jardins Exotiques, Monaco. Above right: Three art-infused darhlings on their way out the of the Musee d'Art Moderne, Nice.
Left: Showing appreciation for environment artist Christo, who is notorious for wrapping various public monuments. Ex: Pont Neuf, Central Park, German Parliament buildings. He gets around.
Above: a Specialite Nicoise: Socca. Sort of a fried chickpea bread. Yum. Also tried "tourte de blette" a strange and wonderful shortbread layer-ed square with pinenuts, raisens and leafy swiss chard in a sugary sauce...umm.
Nice: market, Promenade des Anglais.
Julie's maman and papa, taking a break from mushroom-hunting for (what else?) a baguette, gruyere and ham, and fresh tangerines from the tree in their front yard
Pay-dirt! The first "sanguin".
close to Gourdon, France. Miles of unexplored mountains, plein de champignons and sangliers, just waiting for me.
So, I'm liking the education system in France. Its like this: for roughly every five weeks of school, we get a week off. None of this business of 12 straight weeks of academia, with no room for play. And its all about the play-time. "Vacences de Toussaint" is the name of this lovely holiday from which I just returned--I only regret that in retribution, Hallowe'en doesn't really exist in France. According to Maude, it came into style for a little while, but no one is really too interested in it anymore. Except a random crowd of guys running down the corridors in my apartment building at midnight on the 31st, sporting black capes and shouting "OUI OUI OUI OUI". Profound. They didn't even share their candy. Anyways. I spent the week in the Sud de France, a terracotta roofed-Mediterranean bordered-hitherto unexplored region of this country which is bit-by-bit stealing parts of my heart. Nicola (evolving into my travel partner extraordinaire--as she so eloquently put it "hey, its been a week of travelling together and we don't want to kill each other yet--woot woot!") and I stayed chez Julie( Nicola's neighbour) et ses parents, which was a really eyepopping insight into French culture. For instance, on the way to her parents home from the train station, Julie, so non-chalently was like "Hey, so my parents and I are going to "ramasse des champignons" tommorow in the mountains, you guys are welcome to join. Yup, thats right, picking mushrooms. I never thought that activity, which until now, I'd only ever read about in Asterix ,was an honest-to goodness reality in modern France. And it is. Sidenote: Another comic book-come-to-life epiphany on the same day: REAL wild boars roam and snuffle the mountains just north of Cannes. How sweet is that! After hearing that, I pretty much expected Obelix to come shuffling out of the underbrush with a "sanglier" swung over his shoulders.
Julie took us on a lovely tour of Nice, which included the AMAZING market, where I almost proposed on the spot to the Italian cannoli-vendor. The pastries were THAT good. Also notable were the bouquets and pots of luscious flowers; the racks of Provence-inspired linens in fresh bright colors; the million and a half Indian silk scarf vendors and the plethora of pungent smells and warm poudery colors of the spice vendors.
During the rainy afternoons we hit up a few art galleries: Musee de Marc Chagall and Museum of Modern Art of Nice--after which I emerged with a soppy, appreciative look on my face. Frigging genius. I still can;t get the colours out of my head. There is something intrinsically special about coming nose-to-nose with paintings that you have spent a considerable portion of your academic carreer studying and writing papers about. The Best: sculptures by Niki de St-Phalle (patchy papier-mache tree); Sketches by my all time favorite environmental artists CHRISTO and Jeanne-Claude and the Cantiques des Cantiques series by Marc Chagall. Chagall smack-on found the perfect color to depict true love: deep profound multifaceted electric rose with rough crimson undertones. Genius.
The rest of the week included: Monaco (ritzy and rather wet but an impressive Jardin Exotique. And BIG yachts. And fast cars); another trip to Nice, in which we enjoyed sunshine along the boardwalk" Promenade des Anglais", explored the chateaux and had yum brushetta in the Vieux ville; a few promenades around vieux Cannes, past the infamous conference centre for the Film Fest, and numerous delicious meals with Patrick, Christine and Julie. Tommorow: school. Good news: six weeks until Christmas vacation and a loong visit from my meilleurs potes Canadiennes...selon Anita : boop boop!!!