Dublin. Part One.

Today is a beautiful day. The weather is perfect. Really I can only remember a handful of days that were this beautiful. The sun is filling the entire city with a white light, and the snow melted days ago so the only moisture is left on the plants and the temperature is warmer. It seems like Portland, with everyone removing their scarves and unbuttoning their peacoats, out to enjoy the sunshine. I walked across the city instead of taking the tram, because I just wanted to soak up the sun a little while longer. Now I am sitting in my favorite café sipping thé citron, feeling a tad homesick, trying to figure out how to explain my trip to Ireland and I have no idea where to start.

The trip was so perfect that I simply cannot fully describe it to anyone. It was a perfect mix of every dream I have ever had about Ireland. The countryside was was breathtaking, the people were some of the kindest folks I have ever met, and the things I saw were unforgettable. Not to mention the great Guinness and days full of laughter. All the pieces alone were amazing, but together they made for the best five days of my life.

 

    

 

 

Friday, 10 February 2012: I left for Dublin at 6am, Grenoble time and ate a pain au chocolate on my way. The flight was relatively short, but I still napped. I got another stamp in my passport (!) and when the plane landed I almost cried. The weather was perfect. It was 5ºc, bordering on warm with mist. I felt like I could breath again, without my lungs burning from the cold.

    A double-decker bus took us into the city from the airport and I stared out the window the whole way, like a child. Dublin seemed familiar and strange all at the same time. It was a perfect mix of modern places inside old building on cobblestone streets. It seemed to be the Seattle of Europe but with nicer people. Way nicer people. We found our hostel, met the nice staff, dropped off our stuff and tried to find some food. We got lost, and this woman actually came up to us and asked us if we needed directions. She actually asked us. Then she sent us "just up the hill, to the grocery which has tea and biscuits" and we ate like kings at this Safeway-like grocery store.
    After lunch we wandered around the city, simply taking pictures and getting our bearings. We walked for hours. In the evening we ate burritos, fulfilling our lusting for Mexican food. We wandered off to a pub for a pint. A pint in a real Irish pub. The night was spent chatting with Bradley and Annie and Taylor, getting to know each other a little more and just commenting on how grateful we all are to have the experiences we are having both in Dublin and in France.
    When we finished our pints we went back to our hostel and met some of our roommates. A nice guy from Missouri named Danny, who lives in Lyon (!) and we invited to join us on our explorations. There was also a nice Australian guy who was in Dublin to watch an Irish Jig competition. We fell asleep while talking. 

Saturday, 11 February 2012: We ate our free breakfast that the hostel provides, and then started our exploring. We found a tiny castle/church near our hostel, where an old man was trying to get in through a tiny, leprechaun-sized-door. He fell and I ran to help him, then he almost took me down so Bradley came to the rescue. We got our karma points for the day.

    We saw the Temple Bar area of Dublin, which reminds me of the Hawthorne area of Portland with tourists. Saw a Starbucks. Finally. Wandered into Trinity College, which was breathtaking and slightly dangerous, with it's cobblestone streets and lush green lawns. Queen Elizabeth I put down all the cobblestones and we all agree that the woman knew what she was doing. Drunk college girl in heels ruining her cobblestone streets? Bitch please.
    Bradley, Annie, and Taylor all went into see the Book of Kells, but I didn't have a student ID with me and I wasn't down for paying 10euros. Especially when you only get to see two pages a day and I could read the whole book in the bookstore. Taylor later told us she had a dream about it where she broke into the Library and started flipping all the pages, screaming "two pages my ass!" Which had us in stitches for a good five minutes.
    We ate lunch at this Irish dinner which had good stew. It was nowhere near as good as my Grandma's stew (which she is making me as soon as I get back) but it was good. After lunch we stood out on the street, lost. The owner of the diner came out and asked us if we were lost and she told us how to get to the Oscar Wilde statue. She told us to cross the park, turn at two specific pubs and then continue blah, blah, blah. Well we crossed the park (which was beautiful) and then realized that we didn't need to go in the park at all. She just had us go there because she thought it was beautiful. Her directions were so completely Irish that I just started laughing. I love the Irish.
    We found Oscar Wilde, after we found a random statue that we thought was him, covered with Irish delinquents smoking weed, and we asked them to move so we could take a photo. When we walked away we discovered the real Oscar Wilde statue. They probably thought we were the stupidest Americans they had ever met.
    After Oscar Wilde, we crossed the city of Dublin in one long walk to get to the Guinness Factory. It would be like walking from Alberta Street to Pioneer Square at the end of a long day of walking. It was torture. But then we got to Guinness. The actual building is beautiful and we learned how they make their famous brew, making us appreciate it that much more. We climbed to the top of the building, which has a stunning peripheral view of Dublin, to drink our free pint. It is strong, but really good after you learn how to appreciate it. I now like the stuff Dad!   

    

 

Sunday, 12 February 2012: The hostel we stayed at has a free walking tour everyday and we decided to go on Sunday. It was really fun. Our tour guide was a nice girl that knew a lot about the city. We saw Dublin Castle, Johnathon Swift's house, learned some Irish fables, Bradley drank an Irish coffee, and I met new people. The tour was great, and I was in awe how everyone in Europe seems to be so patriotic and basically in love with their country. I wish that I felt that way about America. We are still a young country and there is a lot that I am not proud of (slavery, prohibition, Bush Administration, etc.) but I hope that someday I have loyalty for a place like most Europeans have for their country.
    After the tour we were exhausted so we went back to the hostel and made some Poor Man's Pasta for dinner. I thought it was awful, but I like cooking so dumping a jar on some overcooked noodles grossed me out a little. We had signed up for a literary pub crawl at 7pm so we ate early and then left.
    The pub crawl kicked off at Duke's Pub, were two older men led us in poetry and sonnets by some of the greatest Irish writers including Wilde, Joyce, Swift, etc. We all drank. I think there were like 4 pubs we went too. I think I drank like three beers, and a shot, and I vaguely remember drinking someone else's Guinness and yelling that the answer was Frank Sinatra to a question. I was a little drunk. But I had a great time, surrounded by friends and poetry and history and beer. It was the best pub crawl I've ever done. Okay it was is the only one I've ever done, but it was still good.

Everytime I watch "You've Got Mail" I sob. The good kind of sob. But now my nose is puffy.

 

Saturday, I had lunch with my host family's extended family, which was really nice, but now I miss my cousins so much. Then I went snowshoeing with my host family in the afternoon and they invited me to the movies, where we watched a stupid French comedy.

Today, I have spent the whole day pampering myself. I woke up late and make an egg for myself for breakfast and since no one else is here I blasted Adele while I ate it. It was delicious. Watched Tom Hanks woo Meg Ryan, shaved the legs, dyed my hair, painted the toe nails.

It has been a perfect weekend. 

Off to find a Ginger.

 

Bonjour mes amies!

When you read this I will be in Dublin, Ireland.

Yep, Dublin. 

I am so excited. I am sure by this time, I will have said I how much I love the colors and accents and people to my friends more then 36 times. I am also pretty sure I have kidnapped a Gerald Bulter look-a-like and hidden him in my carry-on. Oh well. I am also almost certain that I will already have a good story to share with you all when I return in five days.

After Dublin, I plan of exploring my home a little more. I have a day set aside to just visit the Museums in the city and then wander around taking pictures. I have a day set aside to go back to Lyon and eat at a fancy restaurant with some friends, and I have a day set aside to go for a hike. I think it will be a perfect vacation. And I think Dublin will be a good break from French, technology and general thinking. I am planning on unwinding and wandering without a plan. Like a real vacation. So have a glass of wine (or Guinness) with me and enjoy some of my favorite Grenoble buildings. 

Much love, 

Jen

That place inbetween.

Grenoble is quickly becoming a place I feel at home in. But where exactly to I call home? Hillsboro? Portland? Seattle? Grenoble?

I am still in that in-between phase of my life, where I am spending summers camped in my parents house, sans apartment, trying to figure out where I want to set up a life. Maybe France will be my home someday. Who knows. Maybe Seattle or Portland. For now I consider home where ever I feel loved. And I will always feel loved with family.

I no longer consider Hillsboro my home. My family lives there and I will always feel "at-home" where ever my family but i never seem to fit into Hillsboro's weird mix of country and suburb lifestyle. All the moms drove minivans, chatted in the front yards and seemed perfectly content with doing nothing. It was all very working-class-Wisteria-Lane. My family was different. We were a little strange with our boat in the yard and our trunks in the driveway. I loved being different. I always dreamed of living in the city. College gave me that. I am so blessed to have had the chance to strike out on my own during college, and figure out what I want in life.

Portland have truly had me. I mean, I do love to drive into the city and watch people shop at Powell's or eat a burrito from a food cart with my best friend, but something about it always turned me off. Was it the hipsters that seemed to smother the city with their skinny jeans and expensive cameras? I do like Portland but I just don't feel I fit there yet. Sure I do picture myself in Portland someday driving a minivan filled with kids going to soccer or ballet, living in a house like my Grandparents have in Portland. I don't think I could ever fully leave the Northwest, and only a true Northwesterner would know what I mean when I say that once the Northwest is your home, it is your home forever. It is part of the reason I chose Seattle for college.

Seattle is hard. I had so many great and fabulous expectations that when they didn't seem to happen I thought I had been lied to. I thought I was going to strike out on my own in the big city and become an independent person. It was harder than I thought. I realized how important it is for me to have my family supporting me, and how much I still had to learn about myself. Last year was a time of learning, which I think I did in leaps in bounds. I am only now starting to see Seattle for the truly magical city it is. It really does sparkle in Emerald Glory.

Grenoble. Oh France. You have changed me and I will never be able to thank you. You have shown me how independent I have become and how much I can do on my own. You have taught me to see the world differently. I love how easy you are to navigate and how awesome you are with all your little shops that close randomly. I like your surrounding mountains which make me think of the Northwest. But even with all the great and wonderful things you have shared with me, I don't consider you home.

The city certainly did its best to win me over, but I've found that no matter where I'm coming from, I'm more at peace when I look out of an airplane window and notice that the streets are gleaming with precipitation. I have realized that, to me, those rain-spattered windows of the Northwest will always mean home.

Château Vizille.

 

 Château Vizille was really pretty. The gardens were simply breathtaking, even with the cold and the lack of sunshine. They really reminded me of the Northwest. In the best way possible. 

We started off the day trip with lunch at this tiny hole-in-the-wall pizza place in Vizille run by a small family. The husband cooked, the wife took our orders, the daughter played cashier, and the son just played. It was really special and the pizza was delicious in a way that made you keep eating until it was gone*...  Boy was it delicious.

 

 * I admit I had a little help from a friend. 

 The ducks and swans were really pretty. From a distance. Those who know me, know how I feel about the things they call birds. I took pictures from a distance. And when they started to swim towards us looking for scraps I only freaked out a little. 

Rodents. 

It really was a pretty castle. The inside was majorly boring, with it's war history. Right up my dad's alley, but I prefer to wander around in the nature taking pictures. 

We ended the day with some hot chocolate and it was great.

* Also, will someone please look at how fancy I am now that I found these fancy accent buttons? Let's pretend I am a genius and didn't stumble upon them by accident, like I do in all aspects of my life.

The ordinariness of yesterday.

Yesterday was great. Simply one for the books. Nothing exciting happened, but it was filled with little treats and moments to treasure, which made it all the more special.

I slept in (on a Friday!) which I really needed after this long week. My host family thinks it is funny that sleeping late is such a big deal for me. But if you had my family you would understand why sleeping in is such a big deal. But it is. I went downstairs to eat my daily dose of bread and jam. My host mom and I chatted for a while and she said that I am totally welcome to eat lunch with her on Fridays since I don't have classes. That it wasn't a problem, which was nice since she didn't have to do that (our program does not require our host families to feed us lunch on the weekdays). She also invited me to help them make Bugnes with her and Maud. I freaked out a little. That is what I had been waiting for: an invitation to cook with them! So I mentally remembered to be back tout suite so I could help!

I wandered to the tram, where I almost died I was so cold. The temperature yesterday was 12ºF. 12º people. I have been more thankful for spending 22 euros on a scarf. It is so thick and warm I think it actually saved my life. I wasn't sure what to do with myself downtown. I was on my own with no plans. I walked around the city for a bit, withdrew my monthly euro budget, which I stashed in my pocket away from prying hands. I wandered aimlessly, window shopping (who wants to buy me a 550 euro Cartier watch? My birthday is in October. No takers?) and then headed into a clothing store, where I tried on tons of clothes, but bought nothing. I did find some cute little stud earrings for 4 euros that I splurged on.

I looked at my watch and discovered that it was 2pm and understood why my stomach was growling. I could have sat at a quiet restaurant and drank wine, but I didn't want to spend too much money so I went into my favorite Kebab place, where I ran into my pal Bradley, ate Kebabs and chatted in French. It was marvelous. I love chatting in French. I feel like I get better with each conversation I have. Thank the lord.


I wandered to Monoprix, bought some Limonade to take to my professor's for TV night, since her daughter is 11 and couldn't enjoy a bottle of wine, and I really don't know how to pick wine. I went home where it was warm. I laid around watching Vampire Diaries under my covers.




Then I got to make Bugnes with my host family. It was wonderful. An experience I will never forget, simply because it was so ordinary and yet felt so special.

I missed cooking/baking and getting flour under my nails felt so good.

I had fun chatting with Marie Caroline and Maud. I have now cooked in France. I am one step closer to my dream of being Julia Child. They even gave me some Bugnes to take to my professors, which was so sweet of them!

Around 6:45, Taylor texted me and told me to meet her downtown at 7:15. I could barely hear her so she just yelled "KEBABS. 7:15." and I totally understood. We are silly like that. The tram ride was interesting. A car literally parked on the track three stops before I had to get off, so everyone disembarked the tram and I had to speed walk across town. My speed walking is getting really good, fyi. Then I bought a Kebab for dinner to take to Maria's. Good thing they are cheap and delicious.

Maria's was super fun. We basically just ate dinner, drank Limonade and chatted. Nina loves to sit between Taylor and I because we keep her warm and she likes to play with Taylor's 'fro. Then Bradley got there and we all sat down to watch silly French game shows, drinking wine and eating Pistachios. I loved it. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good night of dancing/drinking but I really live for the simple nights of doing nothing besides melting your brain with wine and chatting. It made me think of home, watching Tv late at night with my mom, drinking tea and listening to dad eat popcorn out of the large green bowl.

It was a good day and a nice night.

Fête de la Chandeleur.

Bonne fête de la Chandeleur!
happy crêpe day!
Bonne fête de la Chandeleur! 

Today was Crêpe day here. Like I needed an excuse to eat crêpes...

I am not sure if it was actually a national holiday or not, but I got to eat Crêpes all day so who am I to argue? And as a temporary resident of this country I have a civic duty to obey.

Did I mention that I got to eat crêpes guilt free? All day? Well it was great.


Now I am off to lay on my bed, clutching my stomach in painful Nutella-filled-glory.

Bon nuit mes amies!