Saturday, April 08, 2006
Friday, April 07, 2006
Trippy
On Thursday, after a beautiful and sunny trip in Provence, the BYU group returned in three or so hours by TGV to Paris without a problem. I spent the rest of the day as a sluth.
Come to find out, that my flight out of Paris was leaving Friday morning at 0730. This meant that I would need to be at the airport around 0545 to do all the preboarding for an international flight. If I were to take public transportation, I would need to allow myself about an hour to get to the Charles de Gaulle Airport, and even the Metro doesn't recognize those ungodly hours. So when I arrived back in Paris on Thursday I went straight to the director's apartment to find a cheap way to get to the airport. Even an airport shuttle wouldn't wake up in time to get me to my flight. So I helped with group luggage and went to the ETAP Hotel where we had stayed the first night. There at the front desk the receptionist informed me that they could call a taxi ten minutes before I needed to leave.
So around 0510 I went down to the lobby and they called a taxi for me Friday morning. The taxi only took about 15 minutes (much faster than I had anticipated) to drive to the airport, and it coast 40 euro to make the trip. Not exactly a Metro ticket... more like 4. Oh well... The funny part is that CDG doesn't start moving until 0600 and even then it isn't awake. So my flight left a little late from Paris, but made it on time to London.
It was an interesting transition coming back to the states from Paris. I spent the first flight speaking in French, only to realize that no one else was. Not even the flight attendants. So when I got on my flight from London to Chicago, I decided that using a British accent might be easier than going to straight American English. That was fun, even though I'm not very good at it. But once I got to Chicago I didn't know where to go linguistically from there. I kept eavesdropping, trying to figure out what language people were speaking, only to realize that it was ghetto Chicago slang that I hadn't heard in three months or maybe ever.
My flight out ofChicago was late due to some tornado warnings? and the airlines did a test on a potential oil leak in the engine. So when I arrived in Seattle, the last flight out to Sitka had already left and the airlines set me up in a hotel for the night and booked me on the first flight for the next morning. Though I really wanted to be home and dump my luggage, I was shocked to enter a very classy Radisson and find that I was in a room with two cushy queen size beds, a really nice bathroom with a bathtub, and CARPETED floors. It was beautiful goodness. (I'll have to attach a picture later of the room and my exhausted self! I'm pretty sure if we had stayed in a room like that on our trips, my director would have put more than 4 girls in each!)
I finally got into Sitka around 1100 Saturday morning. It's nice to be home again, and I think I'm mostly unpacked. Adjusting to the ways of America and the difference of 10 time zones has been a little tricky though. I'm sure it wont take me too long to get back into the swing of things. That's the sad part.
Come to find out, that my flight out of Paris was leaving Friday morning at 0730. This meant that I would need to be at the airport around 0545 to do all the preboarding for an international flight. If I were to take public transportation, I would need to allow myself about an hour to get to the Charles de Gaulle Airport, and even the Metro doesn't recognize those ungodly hours. So when I arrived back in Paris on Thursday I went straight to the director's apartment to find a cheap way to get to the airport. Even an airport shuttle wouldn't wake up in time to get me to my flight. So I helped with group luggage and went to the ETAP Hotel where we had stayed the first night. There at the front desk the receptionist informed me that they could call a taxi ten minutes before I needed to leave.
So around 0510 I went down to the lobby and they called a taxi for me Friday morning. The taxi only took about 15 minutes (much faster than I had anticipated) to drive to the airport, and it coast 40 euro to make the trip. Not exactly a Metro ticket... more like 4. Oh well... The funny part is that CDG doesn't start moving until 0600 and even then it isn't awake. So my flight left a little late from Paris, but made it on time to London.
It was an interesting transition coming back to the states from Paris. I spent the first flight speaking in French, only to realize that no one else was. Not even the flight attendants. So when I got on my flight from London to Chicago, I decided that using a British accent might be easier than going to straight American English. That was fun, even though I'm not very good at it. But once I got to Chicago I didn't know where to go linguistically from there. I kept eavesdropping, trying to figure out what language people were speaking, only to realize that it was ghetto Chicago slang that I hadn't heard in three months or maybe ever.
My flight out ofChicago was late due to some tornado warnings? and the airlines did a test on a potential oil leak in the engine. So when I arrived in Seattle, the last flight out to Sitka had already left and the airlines set me up in a hotel for the night and booked me on the first flight for the next morning. Though I really wanted to be home and dump my luggage, I was shocked to enter a very classy Radisson and find that I was in a room with two cushy queen size beds, a really nice bathroom with a bathtub, and CARPETED floors. It was beautiful goodness. (I'll have to attach a picture later of the room and my exhausted self! I'm pretty sure if we had stayed in a room like that on our trips, my director would have put more than 4 girls in each!)
I finally got into Sitka around 1100 Saturday morning. It's nice to be home again, and I think I'm mostly unpacked. Adjusting to the ways of America and the difference of 10 time zones has been a little tricky though. I'm sure it wont take me too long to get back into the swing of things. That's the sad part.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
La Fountaine de Vaucluse
Becky, Jennifer, me, and Melanie at the green source of Fountaine de Vaucluse.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Beach at Cassis
The vacation in Provence was not nearly as structured as our week trip to the Loire Valley. But finals were over, and so we had an excellent excuse to sit back, relax, and enjoy the sun that we hadn't seen for three months.
With that said, the only scheduled trips on the week long trip were on Friday to Avignon, Monday to the beach, Tuesday we went to Vaucluse and Gorde, and Wednesday to Grasse and Cannes. Beautiful, beautiful areas. All had a very Mediterranian feel with lighter colored stuco like buildings and homes and a scent of a fruit and vegetable market. The country side was a view of vineyards and lavendar fields. I know you're jealous.
Even more so, when you see this picture of Becky, Melanie, Jennifer, and I at the beach in Cassis on Monday.
With that said, the only scheduled trips on the week long trip were on Friday to Avignon, Monday to the beach, Tuesday we went to Vaucluse and Gorde, and Wednesday to Grasse and Cannes. Beautiful, beautiful areas. All had a very Mediterranian feel with lighter colored stuco like buildings and homes and a scent of a fruit and vegetable market. The country side was a view of vineyards and lavendar fields. I know you're jealous.
Even more so, when you see this picture of Becky, Melanie, Jennifer, and I at the beach in Cassis on Monday.
Mission Kind-of-Impossible
After a couple hours soaking in the sun and building sand chateaux, Melanie, Becky, and I decided to explore the sea side village a bit. We could see from the beach a grand stone chateau built upon the cliffs and decided that it wasn't too far away to visit. So we climbed up the hill and found a little back door that entered the property. The view was amazing, and we decided that we would inhance our visit by doing a little rock climbing to get to the castle's yard.
When we got to the castle doors, the yard seemed surprisingly void of tourists or anyone for that matter. "It's almost like this is private property," I said. Unable to find the exit, I climbed my way down to the back exit in my beach attire and walked towards the main entrance. Only then did we discover that it was interdit for the general public to visit the Chateau de Cassis.
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