notre dame

Notre Dame is beautiful from the outside and far away, but close up, it’s breath taking. The detailing in the structures makes you wonder how someone can not only think of that specific design, but also have the knowledge and talent to implement it. Each of the hundreds of faces carved into the archways shows a suffering nearly impossible to carve into rock. The gargoyles that loom overhead look like they might actually come alive at night. Equally amazing is that in a consumer driven world, they still hold mass in the church, and admission is always free.

Notre Dame is covered with gorgeous stained glass windows that look heavenly when the French sunlight shines through. The rich reds, bright blues, and deep purples cast a rainbow across the floors. The ceilings are so high that you strain your neck to look at the detailing on the top. As you circle around the inside of the church, you can examine the exhibits, which are set up throughout, depicting religious sacraments and the history of Notre Dame. In several places, there are rows of tiny burning candles. As I held my tea light to the one next to it I thought of my Papa, knowing that though he passed away last semester I still miss him everyday, and my uncle, who I hope will continue to fight his cancer.

Though I was raised Catholic, I consider myself an atheist. So how was it that I nearly cried near the rows of lights in a church? And why did I choose this spot and this moment to think of my loved ones? Standing there, deciding not to receive communion with my roommates, I wondered about the meaning of religion. Can you reject the idea of a God and still find sanctity and meaning in a church or a mass? As the priest started to sing, I wasn’t surprised to recognize the hymn, because I still know all the prayers I learned more than a decade ago. What I was surprised at was how much it moved me, and how at peace I felt in a place where I didn’t think I would belong. 

Running around Versailles, the Louvre, Champs-Elysees , and the rest of Paris was exciting, but standing in Notre Dame felt cleansing. The ting of my sunburn, the desire for another éclair, the mild wine headache I was nursing, the blisters on my feet, all went away. No number of Syracuse religion classes can explain the torn feeling I had between my anti-religious stance and the comfort I surprisingly felt at a mass.

Not too long after, I was back outside on my way to a river tour of the Seine, yet another pastry shop, and the Eiffel Tower. After everything I did on my five day trip to Paris, I wouldn’t consider Notre Dame my favorite part, but I would say it was the most thought provoking, and something that has made me question myself and my beliefs.

so how was your weekend?

Tuesday morning in a cramped bathroom I threw on mascara, tried to fix my hair, and checked my phone. 11:12 a.m. I had already known I wouldn’t make it to class on time.

“Can you tell our professor I’ll be late,” I texted a classmate. Normally this is when I’d try to think of an excuse to justify my tardiness, which didn’t so poorly mask that I missed my alarm after a rough night; but this time, the next text needed no stretch of the imagination. “I’m still in Paris.”

I think I’ve wanted to go to Paris ever since the first time I saw a picture of the Eiffel Tower at night. Everything about the city—­the lights, the landmarks, the language— drips with romance and beauty. To spend five days there, and for my 20^th birthday, was like living out a fantasy.

In five days we saw and did everything: window shopping down the Champs-Elysees, somberly viewing the tomb of the fallen soldier at L’Arc de Triomphe, eating dinner at a café overlooking the Eiffel Tower, perusing the Moulin Rouge, climbing the steps of Sacre de L’Acour to see the best view of Paris, and everything in between.

When I called home while waiting to go on a river cruise of the Seine, my mom told me how proud she was that I was doing this trip so independently. Though I hadn’t thought about it before, she was right. I can barely find my way to the nearest Target at SU. How is it that I, and three friends from similarly small towns, managed to jet set off to a non-English speaking country with no one to fend for us but ourselves? You just have to make up your mind to do it, and hope you make it back in one piece. I think your 20’s (which I can now say I’m in) are the perfect time for traveling, because you’re mature and educated enough to want to see and appreciate all the historical landmarks, but young enough to run on full throttle, touring all day and raging into the early hours of morning soaking up the nightlife.

Savoring our Parisian dinners for one last time, we began to talk about our favorite parts of Paris. The Opera House, Versailles, sunbathing under the Eiffel Tower, mass at Notre Dame, and sipping wine on the glass pyramids of the Louvre all made the list. So did the food. I don’t need a cheap T-shirt to remind me that J’adore Paris.

I’m writing this as I stare out at the French countryside, which looks a lot like my hometown. I’m alone, having just missed booking a seat on the train my roommates took an hour earlier. I’ll be back in London one minute before my lecture begins. In a little while I’ll need to finish the reading for class, but for now, and at my leisure for the rest of my life, I’m just going to enjoy thinking about this trip and all I was able to see. Studying abroad in Australia might give you a killer tan, but it won’t give you weekend trips to foreign countries whenever you please. If London itself isn’t a big enough incentive to study abroad, then the ability to travel through Europe for a semester definitely makes it worth missing a few football games.

cinq beaux jours à paris

Yesterday I returned to London after spending five beautiful days in Paris, and now my mind is filled with everything I want to say about the trip, but also everything I need to do here in London- as classes and homework and errands have all piled up. So for now, here's the rundown of how I spent my time in Paris, and I'll go into details on all my favorite parts very soon!

Friday:
-left the flat around 5:30 am and arrived in Paris by train around 10 am (Paris time)
-stopped off at the Aloha hostel for about five minutes before doing a
-free, 3-4 hour walking tour through the city (we saw everything!!)
-relaxed on the Champs d'Elysses
-wine at a cafe overlooking the Eiffel Tower
-sat on the side of the glass pyramid of the Louvre, drinking wine and admiring the Eiffel Tower in the distance
- got denied from a French club, so took a taxi home

Saturday:
-breakfast at a French cafe
-saw mass at Notre Dame
-boat tour on the Seine River
-lied down under the Eiffel Tower, took a cat nap in the sun
-lunch at a nearby cafe
-went back to the hostel to freshen up and ate baguette and cheese for dinner
-pub crawl with a group of fellow SU students

Sunday:
-got a quick bite at a pastry shop
-took the train to Versailles and saw the palace and gardens
-went for a walk near the hostel before freshening up
-ate a late, fancy dinner near the Eiffel Tower
-walked to the tower to see it lit up at night

Monday:
-toured the Arc de Triomphe
-window shopped down the Champs d'Elysses
-ate the best eclair ever!
-toured Sacre le Cours and climbed to the top to see the "best view" of Paris
-saw the Moulin Rouge
-ate a quick lunch, got snacks, window shopped
-did some reading for class outdoors at a cafe
-ate a last dinner at a really fun restaurant

Tuesday:
-checked out of the hostel and went to the train station
-ate my last French breakfast at a little cafe
-took the train back to London, and went immediately from the station to class

my favorite london sunday

This article was published in the Daily Orange on September 24th.

If I could only have one day in London, I’d make it last Sunday. I woke up early to go to the Brick Lane and East End markets with a school tour. Both these markets are only open Sundays from 8 a.m. until 2 p.m., but it’s worth getting up early for, even after a rough Saturday night. Arriving at the start of the day will offer you the biggest selection, but vendors are more likely to lower prices just before closing. While Notting Hill and the Portobella Markets offer a more famous, posh view of London, the East End will give you something not normally seen by tourists, and it’s less crowded so you can move slowly, taking it all in.

Just a few blocks from the Liverpool tube station, in a back alleyway you wouldn’t know is there, a fairytale flower market was set up. The roads were closed and the streets were filled with fresh orchids and bright sunflowers. Families and couples walked hand-in-hand admiring all the vendors had to offer, while the sun warmed the crisp, cool air. The streets were lined with tiny antique shops and cute little bakeries. I stopped in one store and was greeted by an elegant French woman who sells vintage Chanel and one-of-a-kind jewelry. I wanted to buy everything.

After a quick two hours, I walked over to Brick Lane, which sells clothing, shoes and accessories, both new and used. This part of town is a little bit funkier than most of London and the sound of punk rock music spills out of dimly lit pubs, while teenage girls in bright red lipstick search for something no one else will have. Wandering around this area surrounded by friendly people made me forget I am a tourist.

That night, after putting away all my treasures, I took the tube to the annual Mayor of London’s Thames Festival, on the banks of the Thames River. The area was filled with fair-like vendors offering everything from curry to crepes to artwork. A live band played songs I’ve never heard, and it seemed like everyone in London had come out for the event. The view was absolutely magical with the London Eye and Big Ben lit up in the night sky. In a city as big as London, I expected to feel kind of alone here, but on that Sunday, without any planning, so many of the SU London group met up while walking around. Maybe back at school we wouldn’t hang out, but here in London what Greek house you’re in or major you are doesn’t really matter. We all stood on the Westminster Bridge together, waiting for the fireworks to start. As the display sparked over the river, I thought about how happy I was, being in this city and seeing so many special things all in one day. I don’t know if I’ll ever make it to this once-a-year festival again, or if I’ll be able to find my way back to my favorite French vendor, but I do know that day convinced me that coming to London was the right choice.

paris, here we come!

tomorrow morning at 6 am I am leaving for Paris until Tuesday afternoon, when I will arrive in London about two seconds before class starts. So I won't have computer access until late Tuesday-- but expect blog updates then! I'm so excited!!

turning twenty

Last night I sat at the dining room table trying to finish an article for the DO, while my roommates had the usual “to go out, or not to go out,” debate. Suddenly I realised (British spelling) that midnight would mean my birthday. That settled it. Less than an hour later my article was done, we were dressed up, drinks had been poured, and we were on our way to one of the bars we frequent most, the Walk About. The Walk About was recommended to us by a friend of a friend who spent a few weeks in London and said we had to go and get a snake bite. Obviously, we were intrigued. It’s an Australian chain bar with a really fun, chill, American-music-playing dance floor.

I enjoyed free drinks and good company as I embraced the milestone all college students must go through, the ending of my teen years and entry into my twenties. At midnight, my roommates and some friends in the SU program sang happy birthday and the DJ announced it over the speakers before playing Bruce Springsteen for me. I was now officially Born in the U.S.A. twenty years ago, and life in my 20’s, so far, is pretty good. One more day of classes in London before it’s off to Paris to celebrate. Cheers! 

the token crazy man

Before I left for London, many people warned me that Londoners would hate me for being American. Fellow students, old classmates, neighbors, even people I ran into at the grocery store urged me to try and hide the fact that I am American, and to prepare for people to randomly yell at me, or steer me the wrong way if I asked for directions.

Perhaps it's because of the recent change in political administration, but after three weeks here I have not found, and do not expect to find, any of this to be true. I find Londoners to be extremely polite and helpful. So Monday when I was waiting in line at the post office and a man started shouting about how much he hates Americans, I was shocked. For a minute I thought maybe everything people had said to me was true. As he yelled, "One American in Britain is more than enough!" and "Britain is a great country. We don't need stupid Americans!"; I tried to hide the address on the envelope I was sending.

But then I saw that everyone else in the building, all Brits, were disgusted with this man. He wasn't a summation of British hate for Americans, he was just a crazy guy. Every country has some, and this man is one of theirs. An employee asked him to leave and refused to help him. The man yelled the N word and began cursing as he was ushered out the door. I don't know what other Americans experienced while they were abroad, but I hope they didn't base their ideas that British people are rude off an incident like that. As far as I'm concerned, people here are just as warm, friendly, and polite as at home.