Night Riding

Thursday night, merely twelve hours after my father and brother landed at CDG airport (mom arrived the day before), we boarded a train headed towards the middle of nowhere, France. Arriving at Culmont-Chalindrey station shortly before midnight, we sleepily crossed the platform for the next part of our journey, an Intercités de Nuit train to Nice. Whereas a normal direct train to Nice takes about five hours, the night train takes a leisurely route that stops at the major cities and towns from Provence to the Côte d'Azur, reaching its final destination around 9:30am.

The four of us crammed into a sleeping car, which thankfully had just enough couchettes; the space was so small it would have been awkward to share with a stranger.

I had reservations about how comfortable the ride would be, but I slept surprisingly well. The makeshift beds were padded enough, and the quasi-sleeping bags (or bed condoms, as a friend called them, since they prevent you from ever having contact with the mattress) that adorned them were quite warm. The movement of the train took some getting used to, especially when it took turns and bumps that momentarily sent the blood rushing to my head.

Unfortunately there aren't any shower facilities on-board (the trains are actually pretty old school; see: powdered soap in the bathroom), but it's a more efficient way to travel than flying or taking a direct train. The result? Full days of sightseeing before and after the journey.

Fireworks & Friends at Château de Vaux le Vicomte

Last ​​weekend some friends and I ventured southeast of Paris to the fanciful estate at Vaux le Vicomte. Built in the mid-17th century for Louix XIV's finance minister Nicolas Fouquet, the château has a pretty colorful history that I'm only learning now via Wikipedia, since all of the on-site literature is in French. Basically, Fouquet built himself a house (demolishing three villages in the process) to match his huge political ambitions. It was all well and good for a few years, until a particularly elaborate fête that led to Fouquet's arrest and subsequent life imprisonment. The king had been falsely tipped off that Fouquet bankrolled the château by embezzling state funds, but really Louis XIV was just jealous...and two decades later moved into his own version of Vaux le Vicomte - Versailles. 

​Of course there's a moat.

If you've ever been to Versailles, or pretty much any other castle in Europe, the château itself is pretty underwhelming. However it's still worth going to see the sweeping gardens designed by An​dré le Nôtre; especially on Saturday nights during the spring and summer when the grounds are lit by thousands of candles.

The seemingly endless gardens.

A brief firework display kicks off around 11pm, and while you wait for it to start you can enjoy snacks and beverages at the garden's café.​

​Wine by candlelight, anyone?

And, finally, the boom we were all waiting for.​

Roman Holiday After Hours

Apart from the blazing heat during the day and being eaten alive by mosquitoes at night, I quite enjoyed Rome. And even though I managed to make my way to most of the big tourist attractions (e.g. the Colosseum, Forum, Spanish Steps, etc.), I found it most fulfilling just to walk around and people watch.  I spent most of my time in the historic Pantheon neighborhood. At night, when the temperature dipped to a pleasant balminess, the old town came alive with buzzing trattorias and osterias and people sitting in darkening piazzas, admiring the floodlit landmarks and absorbing the atmosphere.

​Movement on the Spanish Steps at night.

I was sad to leave and can't wait to return, in part because the food there was excellent. Some of my favorite places, by way of a friend who visited Rome last summer, are:

- Il Cartoccio for deep-fried fish, artichokes, cheeses, you name it.
- Sant'Eustachio for coffee/espresso.
- Old Bridge for gelato.
- Le Fate for their fixed price student menu. (10€ for appetizer, pasta, dessert and glass of wine).

Avoiding Death in Naples

I was warned not to go to Naples at all by friends who were concerned about my safety. After all, the city does have some of the highest crime and unemployment in the country. You can even sense it when wandering the streets - no wait, the restlessness is probably just due to the uncomfortable heat of summer.

​But it is pretty after dark. Especially down by the water.

In truth Naples is fine within the confines of the tourist area, which is basically the triangle between the train station in the east, the Archaeological Museum in the west and the Royal Palace in the south. Even so there's a bit of a gritty feel to it; the one time I was out alone after dark I was a bit paranoid but I kept to the busy main streets. Having just arrived in Rome last night the contrast is quite stark. (Polizia! Everywhere! As compared to not a single one seen in Naples).

​The view down via Mezzocannone.

Honestly I didn't spend a whole lot of time in Naples; my first day I went out to visit the famed sites of Pompeii and Herculaneum, and the second was spent on a boat circling the island of Capri. But it was definitely worth wandering the city's historical center, which has amazing classical architecture, beautiful churches and lots of cool (albeit touristy) shops. Oh, and the pizza! Naples is the birthplace of pizza so I made sure to try out a few different restaurants.

​Inside Gesù Nuovo.

Every time I've moved in the past several years, I find the local drivers to be increasingly worse and more ruthless than the last. (I've previously lived in the Bay Area, New York, and now Paris). But Italy takes the cake on aggressive drivers with no regard for pedestrians. To cross the street one pretty much has to stay on the heels of a local, otherwise risk being stranded on the sidewalk for a very long time. If there aren't any around, though, you just have to take a deep breath, step out onto the street and stare down whatever car or scooter is speeding unrelentingly toward you. If you do go Naples, use Hostel of the Sun as your home base. The staff are incredibly friendly and knowledgeable, and you're sure to meet some cool people who can become your new friends and travel buddies.

Eating in the Dark

As a post final exam celebration, a group of us embarked on what I can only describe as the extreme of sensory experiences and adventurous eating: we had dinner at Dans le Noir.

A trendy restaurant with branches in Paris, London, Barcelona, New York and Saint Petersburg, Dans le Noir attempts to turn haute cuisine on its head by having patrons eat, well, in the dark. But it’s not just any kind of darkness; it’s the sort of pitch black that exists only in nightmares; the kind that even eyes with 20/20 vision cannot adjust to.

They say that you eat with your eyes first. Well, at Dans le Noir you end up eating with pretty much everything else. Adaptive plasticity is what enables blind people’s other senses to become heightened, and so too after being seated, it’s up to your nose, mouth and fingers to try to discern what’s on the plate in front of you. Because having a blind meal is only part of the fun - the other part is that you’re only told what you’re served after you’ve eaten it. So course by course you’re left guessing what the chef prepared. In theory this kind of literal blind tasting should make you appreciate food for more than its aesthetics - the odors, the textures, etc. In practice, though, it’s a much less dignified experience. Eating without being able to see poses a number of challenges, like getting the food from the plate into your mouth and not onto your face.

Our server, despite her best efforts, managed to spill some wine on my lap and clip the back of my head with a plate. But this was nothing compared to poor George, one half of the British couple seated somewhere to my left, whose dessert sampler somehow got shoved right into his nose.

While the eating part of the meal was tricky, talking to people when you can’t see them was possibly even more disconcerting. I suppose we must have been speaking at an elevated volume to compensate, for our server kept urging us not to shout. So while I can’t ultimately recommend the food, I can say that the experience produces a lot of conversational gems, like the following.

“I just ate a lemon.”

“What is this shit?!”

“Ow! That was my nose!”

“I keep picking up my fork, and then it’s empty.”

“Who’s touching my leg?!”

“I hope this wine is going into my glass…”

“OH MY GOD! WAS THAT SQUID??”

“You’re talking right into my face. Are you trying to kiss me?”

“Alright, screw it. I’m using my fingers.”

So, if you’re ever in need of a creative first date…

 

Bastille Day

Met up with a group of friends from class for a picnic on the Champ des Mars while we waited for the fireworks to start. Truly a French experience with baguettes, cheese, fruit, chocolate, bottles of rosé that we managed to smuggle in and, of course, a French flag courtesy of A’s “five finger discount.” The fireworks were pretty impressive themselves - a solid 30 minute program set to disco music. Festivities ended close to midnight, and the mass exodus from the park afterward was enough to convince me it was a better use of time to walk home than try to force my way onto a packed train. I probably would have been fine going it alone, but two friends kindly walked all the way back with me, even though one lives in the complete opposite direction.

Overall: good people, good times, good weekend.

 

Of Rainy Nights and Partying with Firemen

Friday night after baking a kilo of brioche dough in various shapes and sizes for practical, a couple friends and I met up in the 6th for a strange Bastille Day tradition: the fireman’s ball at the fire stations. Apparently the night before and of the holiday, fire stations across the city open their gates and host what basically amounts to a huge dance party complete with DJ and drinks.

I think I mentioned before that the weather’s been pretty un-summery, and Friday was no exception. Pushing your way through the station’s packed courtyard was made even more difficult by all the umbrellas. (I gave up pretty quickly and accepted the fact that I would get drenched over the course of the evening).

I don’t usually enjoy club/frat-like environments, but the party was actually pretty fun. The firemen didn’t engage much with the crowd, mostly staying behind the bar and serving drinks. But the few that we talked to seemed very nice, not to mention ridiculously good-looking.

We left around midnight in search of some hot food to warm our rain-soaked exteriors, ending up at a little Italian place where we shared penne carbonara and lamb skewers. Definitely a step up from my usual drunk food of choice, chicken nuggets.

Sometimes the best nights are the ones that are most spontaneous.