Lessons Learned While Abroad

Some people travel for perspective or to "find themselves". Others to check sights and countries off their bucket list. Still others, for the photographs and the memories and the experiences made along the way. Any way you travel, though, I think you pick up valuable lessons. People always say that living abroad will change you. Has it me? I'm sure it has.

Here is a final compilation of a few things that I have learned this year, some a bit silly and some more practical:

1. I simply do not enjoy wine, and I have accepted that. 10 months drinking wine and going to tastings hasn't changed that. I have learned a damn fantastic poker face while sipping whites, though I can't help but cringe at red wines. And on that note, same goes for tomatoes: I just don't like them.

2. On the other hand, I have learned to love cider (the alcoholic kind), hot spiced wine, black olives, frog's legs, sauerkraut, and galettes, along with being introduced to German, Swiss, French, and Moroccan cuisine that I have already looked up recipes for.

3. Sometimes every single train you take will break down or be late. Sometimes you have to run through terminals to catch a connection. Sometimes every form of public transportation will fail, and you will be extremely late, not for lack of trying. Stuff happens. I've learned to stay calm in such situations, because some things are just beyond my control, and there's no use in stressing. And Switzerland, your normally flawless public transportation was having a really off day back in March, but thank you for that lesson.

4. Personally, I feel robbed when I jet off to a country for a day or two with little research done ahead of time. The only trip I regret taking was to Croatia, because I had barely a day and a half to spend in Zadar and I saw almost nothing. In fact, I don't even count Croatia as a country that I visited this year, because I saw so little of it.Taking a spontaneous adventure is a cool idea, but it is almost always better to put a few hours of research into trips, because then they will be infinitely more worthwhile. 

5. Credit to my parents; they do a wonderful time planning vacations! Planning them on your own is so time-consuming and frustrating, especially when comparing prices of everything. Plus, whenever I'm in a new place, I never know where to eat. I have literally spent hours wandering cities looking for a decent place to eat. I find it quite stressful, notably when someone in the group is looking for something in particular (ahem, Kat and her shrimp in the South of France). 

6. How to spot an American tourist with 90% accuracy. It's such a fun skill when you are people watching.

7. It's not always the places you go. It's not always the things you do. Sometimes, it is the people we meet and the memories made with them along the way that are the most priceless parts about travelling. 

8. How to teach English to upper-intermediate level French guys. I won't say that I was a particularly good ESL teacher, but I'm working on it. And it was an experiment in confidence that I will never forget.

9. How to speak French. When I arrived in France, I could barely string three sentences together. In the past year, I have witnessed a dramatic improvement in my speaking skills especially, for I can tell stories and give 20-minute presentations in this language now! Am I perfect? Hell no! Am I fluent? Nope, not at all. But I can understand. I can communicate, and not just on a basic level! And it feels AMAZING to be able to live in or visit a country and speak their language. I only truly felt helpless in Germany and Italy, because I couldn't communicate with anyone in their language. But in France, in Switzerland, in Morocco -- I could. And there is no better feeling. 

10. I learned to travel alone--multiple times--and it was always okay. I think everyone is a little afraid to be alone in a new place, surrounded by strangers, no immediate lifeline or friend close by. In Annecy, in Leon, in Geneva, and in Milan, I was alone, with no one in those cities that I knew. And honestly, it was a little frightening. I had half a mind to stay in my hostel, just to feel safe. But you can't do that. So each time, I left, went out into the world, and was amazed. It's a little lonely to be alone, I'll grant you. But at the same time, it was very liberating. I was testing what I could do, and I exceeded my own expectations. 

The same thing is true for studying abroad. I arrived in France alone, met up with 11 other students who I hardly knew, lived with two families I had never met, in cities I had never heard of, in a language I could scarcely understand. It was terrifying. But fear doesn't have to be paralyzing. Cliches aside, these past ten months were some of the most rewarding of my life. 

Last Days: Paris

I arrived in Paris on Tuesday, May 27th, with my bags all packed. Immediately, I headed for my hotel near Charles de Gaulle airport, and exhausted, I stayed there the rest of the night. 

Wednesday--my last full day in France--I took a train into Paris, and met Carlee and her boyfriend Eric under the Eiffel Tower. It was their last day in Paris as well, so the three of us made the most of it. 

Although the day was rainy, it was perfect. We ate banana-Nutella crêpes and strawberry-Nutella crêpes (so many delicious crêpes) all day long. We wandered around Sacre-Coeur, sitting on top of the stairs and thinking about this past year as we gazed over Paris. We explored the famous Pere Lachaise cemetery. And that evening, after dinner at the apartment that Carlee and Eric had rented, the three of us climbed the Eiffel tower. 

None of us had done it before. There was no line, for it was raining; a chilly, misty rain. We climbed the winding iron stairs for most of the way, then took the little elevator up to the last platform. From the top, I saw Paris in the dying gray light as I had never seen it before. It looked almost magical in the rain. 

After one final crêpe under the shimmering lights, I bid Carlee and Eric goodbye. I took the long train ride back to my hotel. I fell asleep. The next morning, I took the shuttle to the airport and checked in. I boarded the plane to London, and then the next one to the States. 

After so many months in Europe, I was bound for home. 

I know one day I'll be back. Not just in Paris, but in Strasbourg, and Morocco, and Germany, and Annecy, and Ireland, and all the places that I loved as well. Because I'll make it a priority. My mom says that you leave a bit of your heart in the places where you have been happy. I know I've left a lot of my heart in France. 

Last Days: Strasbourg

Continuing on from London; Laetitia and I returned to Strasbourg on the evening of Sunday, May 25th.

I spent all of Monday in a frantic panic: I went shopping for host family gifts (eventually settling on chocolate, flowers, and a nice bottle of wine), went for a last lunch at Flam's with Kat, and closed my French bank account. Then I packed, packed, packed! My host family also took me out for dinner one final time at the pizza restaurant that I visited for the very first time back on August 30th, 2013, my first night in Strasbourg. 

Tuesday morning, I spent furiously packing and throwing out trash. Originally I had thought that I would have plenty of room in my suitcase, but when it got down to those final moments, I had barely enough space to put everything! It is absolutely astounding how much stuff accumulates over ten months!

I was in such a rush to get to the train station on time to catch my train that I didn't even have time to be sad. I had spent the last month--basically all of May--saying goodbye to my city, and on my final morning in Strasbourg, I didn't feel heartbroken. I didn't have the energy or spare moments to be heartbroken. I said my final goodbyes to my host family at the train station, did a final round of bises (cheek kissing) to everybody, and then waved as they drove away. 

Malou was meant to meet me at the station, but she ran very, very late. I boarded the train and stowed away all my luggage near my seat, then paced the platform looking for her. Three minutes before my train was set to leave, I see her running crazily across the platform to me. That's when she decided to lecture me on French politics!! An election had taken place two days before, and the results were grim: The UMP (a far, far right-wing political party) had won the majority of seats in the European Parliament, and Malou didn't want me to have a bad impression of the French because of it! 

Then conductor was blowing his whistle, and Malou had tears in her eyes, and she said she would truly miss me, and I was running for the train, and I was in my seat and Strasbourg was far behind me. 

I was headed to Paris. Then I was headed home. 

Last Days: London

I've been back in the U.S. for a few weeks now. My 10-month adventure in France officially ended on May 29th, when I took a flight out of Paris to London, made a quick dash through Heathrow for my connection, and then hopped on a PA-bound plane (along with the Nigerian National Soccer Team, by the way. Their match coordinator was in the seat next to me). 

Since it has been so long, I'll briefly sum up my last week in the next few posts, the first being about my last-minute trip to London with Laetitia. Originally, I was going to pop over to England to visit my grandparents in the North for a few days, but my granddad was scheduled to have surgery just days before I could come, and I didn't want to be in the way if any complications arose. So I arranged to meet up with one of my cousins in London, and I invited Laetita--who had never been to England--to come along. 

So what did we see and do there? 

* 221B Baker Street (I've been obsessed with the BBC show Sherlock recently, so I really just wanted to visit the famous address). 

* Tower of London (Laetitia really loved our hilarious Yeoman Warder tour guide even though she didn't understand everything he was saying). 

* Big Ben and the Houses of Parliment (of course). 

* The Harry Potter Studio Tour, which is just outside of London. This was a true highlight for me, being one of the things I've always wanted to do, ever since the studio opened. I absolutely loved it, as well, and I would go back in a heartbeat. The attention to detail was amazing to see, and the butterbeer was super sugary and delicious! The funniest part was seeing Laetitia try the butterbeer and her surprise that it was 1. not at all alcoholic and 2. so sweet! The four hours we spent at the studio were pure magic for me.

* Cream tea at the British Museum (warm butter scones with clotted cream and strawberry preserves, along with classic English Breakfast!) along with seeing the Rosetta Stone.

* Wandering through Harrods, which is always a favorite for me, as the old department store is so exquisitely decorated. 

* Seeing The Mousetrap, a murder mystery play by Agatha Christie that has been continuously performed in London since 1952 (the longest-running play of all time). My parents actually went to see The Mousetrap years ago. I, on the other hand, had never heard of it until Laetitia brought it up. 

* Going out to lunch in a pub, and dinner at an Indian restaurant, two eateries that Laetitia had really wanted to experience. 

I really loved this trip to London, as last-minute as it was. For me, the strangest part was that I spoke French the entire time, even though I was in a country that spoke English. I was in such a French mindset that, when other people spoke to me in English, I  would automatically respond in French, much to their (and my) confusion! And honestly, the French were everywhere! There were groups of French schoolchildren at the Tower of London, there were French couples in every pub, the hostel we stayed at was run by a Frenchman, and the people sitting next to us in the Indian restaurant were French people on a buisiness trip!

I asked Laetitia why there were so many French people wherever I went (I found them in Ireland, in Morocco, in Italy...) She told me, "Well, you know how we are nicknamed, "The Frogs," right? It's because we hop from country to country all the time!" 

Another Day in the Black Forest

I've had a busy week! My dad left Strasbourg on Tuesday, Thursday I left with Laetitia for London, and the day in between was no relaxing walk in the park--on Wednesday, Malou took Kat and I hiking in the Black Forest!

All I know is that we were closest to a town called Oberkirch in Germany and that we kept following signs that read "Sohlberg", if those are good reference points as to location. Other than that, all I know is that we were in the Black Forest (which was much sunnier than I remembered it being back in November). All the late spring flowers were blooming along the trail we took, and Malou basically skipped through the meadows pointing out the daisies and buttercups, the forget-me-nots and Queen Anne's Lace.

It was quite a hot day, even at 300 meters up in the hills. We had a picnic lunch by the ruins of an old monastery, which sounds much more dreary than it actually was. Nearby is a bustling cafe (in the middle of nowhere, of course) and we sat down for tea and cake there. I stayed far, far away from the Black Forest cake... I have learned my lesson. Even though it looks like chocolate cake, it doesn't taste at all like it! 

After a good two hours hike--more of a walk or wander, actually--the three of us arrived at some cascades, which is where the silliness commenced, at least for Kat and I. Malou remained unfazed by our ridiculousness. First, Kat and I were trying to take a nice photo in front of the little waterfall, yet were thwarted by a particularly difficult railing that we tried to sit on for the picture. It took a good while to actually sit down, and by that time we were in stitches, especially when we found out that Malou caught our entire struggle on film. Next, Kat decided to just look silly and Malou took it all in stride. 

All in all, it was an absolutely lovely day in Germany. On the way back, Malou recounted Black Forest legends to us and showed us the liquor house. Because we were in Germany, of course, there has to be liquor available before/during/after the hike. There was just a little wooden "house" that was filled by a cold flowing stream and filled with bottles of German liquor in various flavors (cherry, pear, etc). The little hut also provided tiny shot glasses and a suggested payment for a glass of liquor, but no one was around and no cameras were there to make sure you payed. I just remember thinking that this liquor house would simply not work in the U.S., as no passing person would ever pay, they would either steal the bottles or just walk away with a free shot of some very VERY strong liquor. Honestly, I took a sip and almost gagged. The "pear" flavor is just a joke; the actual flavor is "horribly strong alcohol" flavor. 

I can't even describe how nice of a day it was. It felt like something out of a movie. The crickets and cicadas were humming, the sun was bright and the air warm, the forest was full of flower meadows and cherry orchards... Such a perfect day. Although I've been finished classes and exams for weeks now, I'm glad to have stayed, as these past few weeks in Alsace (and abroad!) have been some of my favorites.

Hohenzollern Castle

I haven't been to a castle in a while, so the Monday of my dad's four-day visit in Strasbourg, we drove out to Hohenzollern Castle in Germany. I've really wanted to visit this castle for a while anyway, and as it is really difficult to reach by public transportation, and as my dad had rented a car, it was perfect!

Hohenzollern is two hours away by car from Strasbourg, and you see the castle in the distance way before you see any road signs for it. It's pretty imposing.

My dad and I arrived around noon, and the only English tour of the day was at 2pm, so we ate a great lunch at the castle's restaurant and walked around (taking a million pictures all the while). We even saw a little owl! Unfortunately it is forbidden to take photos inside the castle, but the interior was absolutely beautiful: marble floors, gold gilt walls and ceilings, and fantastic views of the countryside below. The castle we walked through was actually the third to be built on that hill, as the original (built in the 11th century) was besieged and destroyed. The second fell into ruin, so the third was built in the 19th century. It's not a true medieval castle, of course, but it still felt like I was walking through one. 

On one final note, I'm pretty sure I saw a prince and princess in person, but I'm not quite sure. They were filming something in the castle, or having a photo shoot there. It was a Monday after all, so there weren't as many tourists. Also, they'd only be the prince and princess of Prussia, but still, it was cool. Apparently they don't live in the castle (surprising, right?). 

Maison Kammerzell

Finally, I have eaten at the Maison Kammerzell, one of the most famous places in Strasbourg! It's an old old OLD house dating back to 1427, and it's extremely ornate. Located right next to the cathedral, it has been turned into one of Strasbourg's best restaurants, but since it's a little pricey, neither Kat nor I had yet eaten there.

My dad offered to take us there, though, so Sunday night, after a day on the Wine Route, my dad and I met Kat at the Maison Kammerzell for dinner. Since it was our first vist (and probably last, at least for the foreseeable future), we didn't hold back, each ordering three courses. Kat and I both started off with chilled cucumber-melon soup while my dad ate escargot a la Strasbourgoise. My main course was chicken done in a "coq au Riesling" style, and complete with spatzle. And to finish off, I had an apple strudel, while Kat enjoyed a chocolate-cookie-pear sundae and my dad ended with a glass of "eau de vie" -- literally meaning "water of life," it's a super-strong clear liquor that I can't even stand smelling, not to mention tasting. 

It was such a cool dinner at the Maison Kammerzell. I'm so happy to have eaten there before leaving Strasbourg! Highly recommended if you are ever in Alsace!  

Route des Vins

Less than two weeks till I'm home, and guess who decides to show up in Strasbourg? My dad. And even though he kept murdering the pronunciation of Alsace (no, it's doesn't sound like "Alsack"), I was super happy that he was able to visit for the past four days. 

He arrived on Saturday morning, and I immediately took him on a whirl-wind tour of my city. All the major sights were covered: the cathedral, climbing the cathedral, Petite France, Place Kleber, Place Broglie, the European Parliament building... along with the random sights, such as my favorite cafe, my favorite bakery, the ice cream parlor that I really like, the school where I taught English lessons, and my favorite spot by the river overlooking the restaurant-boats and the "Other Church." 

Seeing as he had just hopped off the plane a few hours previous, I think it was a little too much. I was even so excited to see my dad that I totally forgot where the Au Brasseur restaurant was, resulting in us walking way all the way to Petite France when it's located on the other side of the city. All he wanted was a beer, yet I showed him all of Strasbourg in three hours. Needless to say, my dad was exhausted. 

Saturday night, the two of us went out to dinner with my host parents to the Marronier, a huge and beautiful traditional restaurant in a far-away little town. It was a fun dinner, especially amusing as my dad was speaking fluent Franglais to my host parents throughout. I couldn't stop laughing, but honestly I'm also pretty proud of my dad's level of French. He hasn't spoken it in a while, and for the most part he could understand the gist of what my host parents were saying. I rarely needed to translate, although I did clarify some of his responses, as neither Raymond nor Marlene speak Franglais. 

Sunday was spent on the Route des Vins, Alsace's famous Wine Route. It consists of at least 20 picturesque medieval villages on the footsteps of the Vosges mountains, surrounded by vineyards. I've been on a tour once before back in September, visiting Obernai and Riquewihr and a few others. 

Malou suggested five towns, but we only managed to visit two. We started off in Ribeauville, the town that I spent Valentine's Day exploring. It was much more alive this time around, as the sun was shining and the vineyards were green. I guided my dad around the town and up onto the hiking path that I had found back in February, but we both decided that we wouldn't hike all the way up the the three castles. 

After an hour or so in Ribeauville, we drove to Kaysersberg, a town I had never before visited as it is not accessible by train. Kaysersberg ended up being the true gem of the wine route, and it is my favorite of any of the villages in Alsace. It's even better than Colmar!

Kaysersberg is a beautiful little place that feels right out of the story books. It's all colorful timbered houses, ivy, flowers, and cobblestones, complete with a medieval stone tower overlooking the surrounding vineyards. I took over three hundred photos, and my dad and I spent more than four hours in the pretty little village. We climbed the tower-castle, we sat by the river, we walked through the whole town at least once... and we ate a very good lunch (and a very good tea as well! complete with chocolate-raspberry cakes!) Even though we only visited two of the Wine Route's towns, neither my dad nor I felt like we had lost out. Kaysersberg was completely worth it. 

I will say that although we were on the Route des Vins all day, surrounded by vineyards and wine tastings, neither of us had any wine. My dad stuck with beer (Kronenbourg, an Alsatian beer at least!) and I just had water. I've had quite a lot of Alsatian wine these past few months! 

Dijon, Frog Legs, and Red Wine

I suppose that I'm a true Frenchie now, aren't I? Because I can finally, finally say "Yes, I HAVE tried both escargot and frog legs. And they are delicious."

But before I get into all the Dijon specialties (of which I tried a good number, especially considering that I was only there for a weekend)... I finally made it Dijon! I've been promising to go since the beginning of this year abroad, and last-minute I booked my tickets for last Friday morning. It was great to see the city where Bridget, Julianne, and Christian have been spending their study-abroad experience, and it was even better that they acted like our tour guides, showing Kat and I around without us having to pull out maps or look up good restaurants. It turned out to be Christian's last weekend in Dijon as well! His flight back to the U.S. left today, actually. 

I'll give you a little photo tour of Dijon to start off, and then we'll talk cuisine. First up is the owl. It's this little owl carved into the side of the cathedral, and you are meant to rub it with your left hand and make a wish, then walk away towards the front of the cathedral, and away from the evil little salamander carved into the stone a few feet behind the owl. Of course, Kat and I partook in this tradition, although to me the owl doesn't really look like an owl anymore. I will say that this chouette is so important to Dijon, though, that it is now under constant video surveillance.

Next, the red buildings. Back hundreds of years ago, they used to paint the houses with ox blood to apparently kill termites, which is why the houses were a red color. I don't know if ox blood paint really works as a pesticide, but it doesn't matter because no one does that anymore. It's just red paint on those buildings. I think. I hope.

Here is one of the other sights très dijonnaise: the Porte Guillaume, which is basically a much smaller Arc de Triomphe. (Ripping off Paris, huh Dijon?)

And I'll finish off this mini photo-tour with Place de la Liberation. There are lots of fountains and cafes there, and it was so typical Dijon, especially with the cream-colored stone that is used. By far my favorite place to go in Dijon, I really loved just sitting in one of the cafes in this pedestrian-only square. 

Now on to the specialties of the region! Dijon Mustard is, of course, one of the first things that springs to mind, and I did try it, but I'll start first with my trip to Beaune (pronounced Bone). This cute little touristy town is twenty minutes by train from Dijon, and it is basically what Colmar is to Strasbourg: a cool little medieval place to bring visitors so they can marvel at the region's architecture and taste wine.

Which is exactly what Kat and I did: view typical architecture and taste wine. While Colmar is full of old wood-beam houses painted in a rainbow of colors, Beaune magnifies the rooftop tiling of the Bourgogne (or Burgundy in English) region. The polychrome roofing is beautiful. You can find small examples of it around Dijon, particularly on some of the spires of one of the cathedrals, but polychrome tiles are really found in Beaune, especially in the Hospices. It's a huge building, founded in 1443 as a pretty fancy hospital for the poor. It's a museum now, and definitely worth a visit. The polychrome tiles on the rooftop are fantastic, but the interior is also beautifully tiled. 

Another specialty of Beaune--and of Bourgogne--is wine! So of course, after eating lunch, Kat and I went on a wine tour at Marché au Vin, a wine cave near the Hospices. We chose to take the 7-wine tasting, thinking that was more than enough, but they added an eighth wine free. We also received a strange little tin tasting cup to use and eventually keep as a souvenir, which was very cool. The tasting was self-guided, so Kat and I went down into the dark cellars and started out with a rosé. We then tasted four reds, followed by three whites, all the while trying to say sophisticated things about the wine and clearly failing. ("This red very woodsy, a little smokey, even. Kind of like elves collecting mushrooms in the forest. But not J.R.R. Tolkien elves. Now this wine, this is much sweeter, more fruity. It tastes like faeries building an enchanted castle. I would buy that wine if it was described like that!") 

Overall, though, while the experience in the wine caves was very, very cool, it was a little wasted on me. I'm just going to admit it: I dislike wine. I thought after 10 months in France... but nope! Each wine tasting is a struggle to finish. And I especially hate red wine, my goodness! White wine I can grin and bare, but drinking reds make my face screw up in distaste. 

Saturday night, after our return from Beaune, Kat and I ate dinner with Julianne, Christian, and their friend Dave at a restaurant that specializes in frog's legs. It was a really fun dinner, and very eye-opening! I downed every specialty in the book in one fell swoop! Escargot, Frogs legs, Dijon mustard, and Kir (white wine with blackcurrant syrup)! 

My favorite of the four specialties? Frog's legs, surprisingly! Although the Frog's legs came in a Dijon mustard-cream-and-garlic sauce, so I guess the mustard is my favorite as well. What was actually freaky was that we received the whole bottom half of the frog--hip bone and thighs and knees and calves and little feet, all still connected and intact. Obviously, you are eating off the bone(s), so... I mean, you could tell it was a frog. There was no fooling yourself--you are eating frog. The bones were so fragile, too! And I can confirm the rumors: it tastes mostly like chicken.

As for the escargot, that I could fool myself into thinking, "This isn't snail!" This is because the little snails were marinated in butter-garlic-parsley and plopped onto a slice of bread, so it was similar to eating bread with a sauce and a little brown-grey mushroom-looking thing on top. There really wasn't too much taste besides the butter-garlic. The Dijon crew said that usually, you have to take the snails out of their shells, and that the restaurant prepared them strangely, so I guess I didn't get the real escargot experience, but I'm counting it all the same!

So that wraps up my culinary adventure in Dijon. I'm so very glad that I managed to make it there before leaving, and I really loved my time there! It made me wonder about what it would have been like to study abroad there, like Christian, Julianne, and Bridget did. In the end, though, I still believe that Strasbourg was the right choice for me. 

[ Also, if you were curious, the image below is of Lake Kir, which is just outside of Dijon. Apparently there was an important guy named Kir somewhere along the history timeline, and Dijon honored him by using his name for everything. ]