Sunday, July 31, 2011

Dijon

Oh, France. You gorgeous, gorgeous country. Not only do you boast the culture capital of the world in the north and the ritzy glam of Monaco in the south, you offer tourists traveling between the two a plethora of charming cities named from food. You are too delish kind.


Certainly, Paris is fabulous. Not many who have visited will disagree. And a LOT of people visit Paris--so many that most of the Parisian highlights are as congested as a first-year teacher during flu season.  I wouldn't trade my trip to Paris (well, maybe to get my stolen iPhone back), but the crowds cause some stress. In the end, none of us returned to Hamburg feeling anything but relaxed, with many thanks to the laid-back charm of the city of Dijon.

Dijon lies at the beginning of eastern France's Burgundy Wine Region. Not only does it boast life-changing Burgundies and a world-renowned wine school at it's university, it is famous for mustard. Though dijon mustard is no longer produced in the city and most dijon mustard seeds are imported from Canada, Dijon's selection of mustards stands alone. And, as luck would have it, the symbol of darling Dijon is the owl. I'm sure you can imagine my shriek when I recognized this fun fact.

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To see all the must-see sights in Dijon, all we had to do was follow the owl path...

Follow that cute owl around town: check.


Owls were the star of the show in our too-good-to-be-true apartment, too. We booked it just two days before we arrived and were, of course, skeptical. To our surprise the apartment was the most charming of any we have stayed at. Not only did it have everything we needed any more, our lovely landlady didn't even request a deposit OR the rate in full. "Don't go to the ATM to get cash now! Enjoy yourselves and just leave the rest of the fee in the drawer with the keys when you go." Whaaaat? No. This can't be.





Ha! Hard to find a welcome better than that.



For every owl we saw, there were 100 jars of Dijon mustard. And nearly just as many flavor varieties.

Cassis-flavored Dijon mustard

Dijon with tarragon


Classic in a tube!
We came home with much, much more mustard than I have ever carried--or thought about carrying--in my life. My personal favorite is seed mustard that has herbs de provence streaming through it, and both bottles were gone in one week. We've had many dinner parties since we arrived home, and I'm wondering if our friends are using us for our Dijon. Honestly, I wouldn't blame them.



While owls, wine, and mustard make Dijon unique from all other cities I've visited, it's scenery deserves the same recognition.







Owl Street



Strolling (you don't walk the darling Dijon streets, you stroll them) through Dijon inevitably leaves you feeling peaceful and satisfied. Here, you feel like you've found the quintessential small European town: cafes, window flowers boxes, and cobblestone. Lucky for us, Dijon threw in owls, wine, and mustard for good measure (/for our pleasure). 

Versailles

For one hundred years Versailles was the cultural heartbeat of Europe. That's what can happen when one man, Louis XIV in this case, spends half a year's income of Europe's richest country to transform his father's hunting lodge into a monarch's palace. Built in the early 1600s at the height of the glory of the French monarchy, this breathtakingly sophisticated chateau--the most visited chateau in Europe--is everything a divine palace should be: enormous, ostentatious, and stunningly gorgeous. 





Versailles is divided into three parts: the Chateau, which is the main palace, the Domaine de Marie-Antoinette, the queen's estate, and the 200-acre gardens. The Chateau housed the folks residing in the Palace in many, many "apartments," each as sophisticated and gorgeously decorated as the next. Though it wasn't mentioned in our travel books, I am fairly certain that the concept of 'gaudy' was invented on these grounds. I can hear Louis XIV's proclamation now: "No corner shall be left un-gaudified!"






interior court of the Chateau

This room, the Hall of Mirrors, is 250-feet long, with 17 arched mirrors matching 17 windows offering a view of the royal gardens. Mirrors were a luxury at the time they were installed. Much later, this was the room in which the Treaty of Versailles was signed, marking the end of World War I.





A bit much, sure, but I love, love, LOVE this wall treatment!




The views of the royal gardens were stunning from here, and then we went outside...














It is hard to imagine something more pristine than these royal gardens exists. Having the opportunity to stroll through these beauties is definitely one of the finer things in life. 

After taking our time to see each and every nook and cranny, we visited Marie-Antoinette's estate. It was like stepping into a 17th century fashion magazine.







When we learned the gift shop wasn't selling any of these glam garments, we waved goodbye to the high fashion and concluded our breathtakingly beautiful tour of Versailles. As over-the-top flamboyant as the palace may be, the Palace of Versailles ranks near the top of the most beautiful of places I have had the privilege of visiting so far.





Saturday, July 30, 2011

Paris


When we are lucky, we are able to recognize an eternal memory in the making before it's over. These rare and precious memories have no expiration date and remain as vivid after the final recollection as they did the first. Though these vital gems, both positively and negatively charged, do not necessarily change us drastically, they alter our perspective just enough to refocus our senses. Though at times the impact is scant, these special memories serve us exactly as we need them to and are, in the end, our central source of growth.

The culmination of my first trip to Europe included a tour of the Coliseum in Rome. A wide-eyed, enthusiastic 17-year old, I felt both powerless in the presence of such a scrumptious slice of world history, and stronger than ever for having witnessed it's existence. The moment in which I accepted the phenomenon before me while simultaneously realizing the magnitude of my presence in front of it, is as permanent as concrete in my mind. Of course, there have been others: receiving the phone call that offered my first teaching job, the moment Reggie asked me to marry him, seeing pretty, pretty, Prague's illuminated castle quarter at dusk, and being present at the birth of my first nephew, are memories strong enough to stay with me eternally. Certainly, not all lifelong memories are as satisfying as these, and they are at times not as positive, but I wholeheartedly contend that the best memories could not possibly feel as good as they do if it weren't for the bad ones.

For a year I've heard the faint voice of the City of Light calling for a visit. In the past months, the Parisian invitation was presented louder and louder, and more convincing with each increase of the dial. Unable to defend any more traveling that did not involve Paris, we succumbed to temptation. Our Parisian apartment stood almost right on the Seine River and so, without thinking twice, upon check-in we walked down the lovely river for just ten minutes before we were standing at the feet of one of the most celebrated landmarks in the world: The Eiffel Tower. Standing 1,056 feet below it's tippy-top is enough to send a shiver, or four, down anyone's spine. It's illuminating lights shout "Look at me! Look at me!" in all directions, and their plea for attention works. Even at midnight the crowds were massive yet surprisingly calm, enjoying music and crepes on the lawn, all chins pointing up...and up...and up. Before that night I had never drooled over the Eiffel Tower, nor had I imagined the day I would enter it's sophisticated city or anticipated my picture in front of it's intricate wrought iron beams. As we stood in front of this incredibly important piece of art, surrounded by a city loved by the world over as a beacon of culture, on a warm, summer night, I got more than just a breath-taking view--I gained an everlasting memory to be treasured endlessly. Reggie and I stood in fascination with his mom and his aunt, all of us smiling and in agreement about the shock factor the tower produces, when I recognized my lifelong memory in the making. Undoubtedly, the world is right: no matter the angle, the Eiffel Tower does not disappoint:









My fav view of the tower is from across the Seine River at midnight when millions of tiny lights blink all over the tower, making it appear to be Paris' answer to fireworks on the 4th of July in the US. It's pretty tough to top that image.



In all of our fab travels, Reggie and I have been fortunate enough to have escaped without being affected by the pick-pocketing that is present in so many tourist destinations. And then there was Paris. Three days into our trip our camera and my iPhone were stolen from my bag. Yeah, yeah--it's just stuff--I know. But let's be honest, it's really, really stinks. I still can't talk about life after my iPhone. We had crammed a LOT of sightseeing into our first three days and as a result I have few pictures of Paris to share with you, aside from a few from Reggie's iPhone. Though I can't prove it with pics, I assure you that the Notre Dame Cathedral, The Louvre, the Orsay Museum, the Tuilleries Garden, and the many picturesque streets and cafes you have always heard about are as fascinating as you imagine them to be. Maybe even a bit more fascinating than that. Luckily, I carry two cameras with me when I travel and was able to recapture some of the images I lost.



The Arc de Triomphe is the largest triumphal arch in the world and has stood at the top of the the Champs-Elysees since Napoleon erected it in 1806. It's size--a shocking 163 x 147 feet--is enough to stop anyone in their tracks, and it's sophisticated carved detail will keep them all there, looking up, for quite some time. 







Radiant white and topped with a 273-foot central dome, the fairytale-looking Basilique du Sacre-Coeur is as much a show-stopper now as it was when it was built in 1870.


Thanks to its hilltop location, it's view of Paris' unique rooftops is the second highest in the city.










with Reggie's mom, Denise, and her sister, Michele











It is rare that a boulevard gets as much recognition as the Champs-Elysees. It is at this boulevard that the Tour de France ends, the biggest concentration of Parisian foot traffic exists, and world-class shopping is committed. 

 For example:
Here sits the Louis Vuitton flagship store. The largest single-brand luxury store in the world, this masterpiece offered us several hours of fun.

A sucker for antique and vintage suitcases, it took awhile to pry me from gawking at the original--completely intact--luggage collection.

Abercrombie & Fitch is ridiculous desirable in Europe--and not available in many European countries. That's why this Parisian A&F can get away with this gaudy and, well, arrogant showpiece of an entrance.

You guessed it! They're all waiting patiently to go into A&F. W-O-W.




When shopping and strolling wore us out, food seemed like the best solution. Shocker, right?

The famous Croque Monsieur: grilled then broiled ham and cheese

The equally as famous Quiche Lorraine

Oh yes I did! Reggie's mom surprised me with this pistachio macaroon from McDonald's. It tasted as good as it was cute. The second one was on me.

Helllooo, delicious cookie.

Paris is a pincushion of world-class must-sees. We ooh-ed, aah-ed, and ate our way through the City of Light until we couldn't walk anymore. When we didn't think we could walk anymore we extended our mini Tour de France into the much less touristed yet equally as stunning Burgundy Wine Region--to quench our thirst, of course. And, I suppose,  maybe to make a few more lifelong memories along the way as well.