bucket list.

- Take French cooking class (Justin, prepare yourself for chocolate-molten-cake paradise upon my return)
- Vintage shopping in the Marais
- L’As du Falafel: Paris’s most famous falafel joint
- Eat best pasta of your life in Rome
- Make a wish in the Trevi Fountain
- FLUENCY (though my English-speaking skills have somewhat deteriorated and transformed into what seems to be some sort of embarrassing Frenglish hybrid)
- Pack bags for San Francisco on Friday
- Turn in those last two damn dossiers to local university professor

the past month.

Forgot about me? It’s been a busy month, let me just tell you! From trying my first mouth-watering macaroons at La Durée (one nibble of the salted caramel sent me straight to heaven); to writing an essay or two twelve; to celebrating Thanksgiving at a delicious restaurant with great food and great friends; to playing hostess to my wonderful high school friends…

…to watching Paris light up in preparation for Christmas…

…to not-so-secretly continent-hopping to Mexico this past weekend to watch my amazing boyfriend finish his first Ironman…

…to consequently hearing my dear mother tell me of her disappointment for failing to mention previously stated continent-hopping; to trying fondue for the first time; to jetting off to Madrid with my girl Jeanne May to discover the joy of tapas and the craziness of seven-floored nightclubs…

…to tasting the sinfully delicious hot chocolate at the famous tea room Angelina’s; to visiting numerous museums…

In front of Delacroix’s Raft of Medusa

At the Reina Sofia in Madrid

…to having the unfortunate epiphany that those new blue jeans you just bought cannot in fact go in the wash with your whites (thanks for nothing, Vanessa); to watching a soccer game (France beat USA unfortunately) at the Stade de France…

…to exchanging life stories with my conversation partner at the Sorbonne University, it’s been a busy, busy month.

And as my semester in Paris is coming to a close, I’ve had time to reflect on my past presque three months (can you believe it?) here in Paris. And while I cannot come away from the experience claiming that I have changed into a completely different person (though some kind friends have boldly stated that I have emerged a better story teller with an infinitely better sense of direction), I will say that (brace yourself for nauseatingly cliché study abroad comment) I would not trade this past semester for anything. It has been a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I will in some way always view this wonderful city as somewhat of a home.

I think it’s safe to say that all of us abroad have grown partial to our cities—becoming overly defensive from even the slightest criticism—and that with each weekend trip taken, we feel more grateful than ever for choosing where we studied, lucky enough to call our amazing cities our “home” for the semester. Each time I take the RER B back to my apartment from Charles de Gaulle airport and throw my carry-on luggage haphazardly on my apartment table, I without fail look back on my decision made over a year ago to study in Paris as the perfect choice for me. No city has compared to the city of lights. No city has had so much to offer as Paris does: the strolls, the museums, the cafés, the sites! There is so much left to do on my Parisian bucket list! As my flight back to San Francisco draws increasingly near, I’m faced with the daunting task of hastily running all over town to cross off as many items as possible.

Next on the list: taking a French cooking class!

continental breakfasts, cemeteries, and caviar.

One lazy Tuesday afternoon, a few IES girls decided to take advantage of their last vacation day and cross off a few destinations from their Parisian Bucket Lists.

1. Breakfast in America

The owner of Breakfast in America, a man hailing from Connecticut, yearned for the classic American breakfast during his study abroad experience (something impossible to come by in a land where eggs are considered lunch and cake is considered breakfast), and upon his return started the American-styled diner, which has since become one of the most popular restaurants in Paris.

Though the French might not be our biggest fans, there is no arguing that they are fans of our food. As we emerged from the metro stop, we could almost instantly spot the popular diner. Despite the rain, a long line of Parisians and Americans alike accumulated outside the diner’s glass doors.

Once inside, we were greeted with a stereotypically-American diner experience: Nickelodeon blasting from the small television in the corner, a Friends poster hanging from the wall, the savory smell of freshly-cooked burgers wafting from the grill, customers to our right requesting blueberry pancakes and Arnold Palmers…

Mentally thanking the owner for pursuing his culinary dreams, my friend and I dug into our mouth-watering vegetarian omelets, reminiscing about the holy college ritual that is Sunday brunch.

To all those who are in need of some good ol’ American culture (yes Parisians, such a thing does exist) and miss the concept of customer service, I hope you stop by to enjoy B. I. A.’s warm staff, festive decor, and satisfyingly hearty meals.

2. Père Lachaise Cemetery

Shortly after, we entered Père Lachaise, an enormous cemetery filled with famous artists, musicians, writers, etc. Map in hand (yes—the cemetery was that big), we winded through the majestic tombstones in search of some of the cemetery “hotspots”.

Jim Morrison’s Grave

Edith Piaf’s Grave

Oscar Wilde’s Grave

While we were extremely excited to see Oscar Wilde’s grave, it was unfortunately closed for renovations. Normally, however, it is tradition for people to kiss the grave of the revered writer.

3. Caviar

Still full from our American feast and too tired to cook after a long day of walking, I kicked off my shoes and whipped up some quick caviar blinis: the perfect bite to end the perfect touristy day.

copenhagen, denmark.

As a girl who will humbly admit she knew little (read: nothing) about Copenhagen and essentially booked her weekend trip to the city for the sole purpose of attending the Sensation White music festival, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I came to absolutely adore Copenhagen and its Danes.

View from top of bell tower downtown

After a tumultuous start to our mini-vacation (one of our comrades failed to bring her passport and almost had to forgo the trip altogether, but luckily had it brought to her with only five minutes left till boarding closed), we arrived in Copenhagen. And let me just say: this is a city after my mother’s own heart. Everything was absolutely spotless, and the airport seemed to resemble Neiman’s a little more than it probably should have. In fact, the entire city seemed to be the perfect hybrid between classical architecture and chic, modern decor, which made strolling through the small city extremely aesthetically pleasing.

Bucket list #42. Navigate through city using only compass and map

The first day, compass (!!) in hand, we walked aimlessly through Copenhagen, befriending two locals who gave us a personal tour around town. We stopped by the infamous living commune Christiania, which was, how shall I put it… interesting? Nothing I have ever seen before? Let’s just say Wikipedia Christiania, and we’ll keep it at that. Let’s also say I lived in Berger freshman year, and I still remained speechless.

At the gates of Christiania

I wish I could provide you with pictures, so you could begin to understand the anomaly that is Christiania, but one of Christiania’s three rules was no pictures (another being “Don’t run. It causes panic.”). Beyond the main “marketplace”, we went on an off-the-grid walk/hike through Christiania’s residential neighborhood. I couldn’t help but be baffled by the fact that actual kids grow up here—what a skewed sense of reality they must foster.

Now, as fun as Copenhagen is, there aren’t exactly many tourist sites to visit. As soon as we heard of one of their most famous, we ventured outwards to see…

The Little Mermaid

Although it was not as impressive as we hoped, the walk there was: despite the overcast weather, we strolled through the park, were greeted by smiling, friendly Danes, glanced over at the majestic swans casually wading in the lake, and stepped into one of the most bizarre stores I have ever experienced, Tiger.

That night was the Sensation White concert, and though I emerged shivering, whining, exhausted, and begging for a taxi (so sorry to my friend Emerson), the entire six hours I was there were absolute bliss. Surrounded by an international sea of white, we grooved the night away to a series of impeccable DJ’s and a flawless set-up.

As I finally stumbled into my hostel at 5 AM, washing the dirt and grime from my feet and mourning the loss of my blazer and belt (I guess we now know “dress in all white” really means dress in all white), I snuggled into my covers trying not to awaken my sleeping roommates knowing that the newly created dent in my bank account was well worth it, as this had easily become one of the best, if not the best, weekends this semester thus far.

And advice to my girl Maddie: study abroad here! Despite Copenhagen being one hell of an expensive city, it was without a doubt one of my favorites and I hope to return soon for a longer period of time…

… shortly after I win the lottery.

culinary creations and calvin harris.

You know your week is off to a great start when it begins with a grocery cart full of much, much needed cooking utensils. After weeks of procrastination, I decided to finally march into the store and invest in some cooking essentials to take my culinary creations from struggling college student in Paris to Julia Child. As the thermometer has officially dipped into the 40’s (and the occasional high 30’s), I perused the aisles of my local grocery store searching high and low for the necessary ingredients for my mother’s family-favorite stew recipe. Though my mother’s chicken stew is obviously infinitely better than my own (many years of practice under her belt), I still gave myself a pat on the back as I nestled under my many blankets and warmed up to a nice cup of soup.

Now that I’ve properly expressed my recent excitement over my newfound domesticity, I can continue on with the retelling of my week (which has been extremely busy, each day proving to be more exhausting than the last). Flagging down taxis, catching metros, walking lengthy blocks, I’ve literally been all around Paris running errands. To start, I visited three museums for my various art history classes: the African art exhibit at the Musée du Quai Branly (be sure to check out the free photography exhibit out in front as well as the semi-tropical garden outside), Maison Européanne de la Photographie (very interesting photojournalism exhibits as well as an interesting albeit rather graphic exhibit on obesity), and saving the best for last, Musée de l’Orangerie.

Although I failed as a tourist and left my camera to collect dust on its shelf all week, I’ve used my sleuthing skills to dig up some online jpegs to try and convey exactly how stunning L’Orangerie is.

Not only has it been my favorite museum visited thus far, but its prize exhibit of Monet’s breath-taking Nymphéas was the icing on the cake. Everything from the architectural layout to the lighting of each room to the placement of each grand-scale painting was designed by the master himself, providing a truly interactive experience for the museum’s visitors.

Friday night, we rounded the IES troops and headed to the Social Club where a Calvin Harris concert was taking place.

Set up of the Social Club

Although I’m in no way, shape, or form a fan of the mosh pit, I embraced the sweaty, teenager-filled quarters and danced the night away, friends in tow. Smiling from ear to ear, I could hardly even begin to notice my feet being stomped into oblivion as his fan-favorite Feel So Close came on, as it was probably the pinnacle moment of my night. Unfortunately finding a cab proved to be more difficult than planned, and going to sleep at 6:30 AM made waking up for my 6:45 AM alarm an impossibility, making me consequently miss my Saturday trip to Reims. But all in all, the night was one of the best here so far and made the next day’s struggles worth it.

On this week’s agenda: midterms followed by a red-eye to the wonderful city of Copenhagen for the Sensation White festival.

A bientôt!

prague, czech republic.

As I exited the plane Friday afternoon, I was instantly greeted by the the brisk Prague air and a series of utterly incomprehensible signs written in Czech. Props to all those daring enough to study in a Slavic country and study the local language. As previously mentioned, I spent this past weekend visiting my friend Dylan, both exploring the city of Prague as well as living in the lap of luxury in his spacious, well-furnished apartment (so jealous of your oven). During my stay, my gracious host (not so) kindly told me that he is not an avid reader of my blog, as my tediously lengthy posts prevent him from reading past a few sentences. So, in your honor, Dilly, I will keep it brief.

View from Charles Bridge

In front of Lennon Wall

Lennon Wall

This is a tradition all too well-known in Paris. Lovers will scribble their initials on a lock, chain it to a gate on a bridge, and drop the key down to the river below, symbolizing their eternal love.

Inside of St. Vitus Cathedral

Other highlights of the trip include but are not limited to: seeing Prague Castle and its beautiful cathedral, winding through the charming cobblestone streets of tiny Disneyland Prague, enjoying home cooked meals at the Leong residence, and having some slovenly drunk scribble on my hand in attempt to confuse the bouncer that he had already stamped me in (don’t want to party with that guy…).

Other low lights of the trip include and are limited to: the cold, absinthe (first and last), and being taken to KFC.

Thank you to Dylan, who was such a gracious host. I applaud you on your culinary skills and cannot wait for the day your cooking repertoire extends beyond stir fry and pasta.

With love,
Leslie

Also, shout out to the best father, husband, and man I know. Happy birthday, Dad!!!

10. The subjunctive verb tense — Hate

Self-explanatory.

Je suis frustrée que je doive apprendre au subjonctif.

the beginning of fall.

As the work load is beginning to pick up (and I remind myself that studying abroad does involve actual studying), it has been difficult to find the time to check in and let you all know that I am alive and well. The time has flown by so quickly, it was only last night when running a few errands that I started to take note of all the seasonal changes occurring around me.

From the bundled-up, red-nosed Parisians bustling to get onto the Metro, to my first legitimate autumnal experience of having the wonderful satisfaction of crunching through an actual pile of leaves (California till the day I die), to my daily self-reminder to pack my umbrella (getting caught in a torrential downpour sans umbrella on a busy boulevard once is already enough times to remember this crucial component to my wardrobe), it has set in that Fall is really here. And while you naysayers back home have laughed in anticipation for this day, I’ve actually embraced the cold, pants and all. In fact, the crispness to the air and the daily fog makes me feel more at home than homesick. And while I’m still terrified of contracting Seasonal Affect Disorder once the thermometer takes a plunge into the 40’s, the weather thus far has only reminded me of the best city in the world: San Francisco. Fun fact: supposedly once it gets a little colder, carts will start setting up shop all over Paris selling - believe it or not - hot wine. While I initially scrunched my nose upon first hearing of this, apparently this delicacy is both comforting and a smart choice (think beer wine blanket), so I will definitely indulge in an experimental cup or two.

Two things to look forward to on my calendar this week: firstly, I have been linked to a weekly French conversation partner at the Sorbonne University, who I will meet for the first time on Thursday. Secondly and most importantly, this weekend I will be jetting off to Prague to visit one of my fellow high school favorites, Dylan! More posts of Czech shenanigans to come!

to love or not to love.

As my one-month-in-Paris benchmark begins to creep up, I’ve begun to take note of certain aspects of Parisian lifestyle and culture that I’ve grown to love, and others that I’m not sure I’ll ever become quite fully accustomed to. And while I can guarantee you that you will never read me blogging about sitting down for a plate of esgargot, it’s still exciting to see myself, for the most part, gradually acclimating to all things French français.

1. Walking — Love

One of the things I absolutely adore about Paris is it is a city where it is actually preferable to not own a car. This might seem like a baffling concept to us college kids stuck in Southern California, where freeways and traffic can be as much of a daily routine as coffee and vitamins, but the metro is that convenient. Not to mention, it is possible to pretty much walk anywhere in Paris, and this weekend, I did just that. I went everywhere from jogging to the Seine (dusting off the cobwebs collecting on my running shoes for the first time since my arrival) to walking to one of Paris’s two Chinatowns for some pho to exploring Montmartre, a fun neighborhood chockfull of quirky artists and quaint cafés.

Mom and Dad, this is where I had my portrait done way back when!

Montmartre is also home to the Sacre Coeur, which towered over the many tourists milling about, ice cream and DSLRs in hand.

Walking up the many flights of stairs leading to the Sacre Coeur

Sacre Coeur

Especially since Paris has had amazing weather, walking a few miles here and there seems to go by quickly, as there is so much impressive architecture and hidden jewels to admire. One of the great things about wandering around is even when you’re not quite sure of your whereabouts (75% of the time), you will unexpectedly find a ton of things to go see, whether it be a picturesque Sunday market, a beautiful church, a small museum, or a flame-throwing dancer in front of the Notre Dame.

2. Inefficiency — Hate

Although I do not want to sound like an ugly American making sweeping generalizations about France as a whole, it seems as if no one in Paris is ever truly in a rush. Case and point: I just spent 20 minutes waiting in line at a grocery store to buy 3 folders for class. In my Sociology class, our teacher told us that the assumption of receiving quick and quality customer service is not something that should be expected, as it isn’t something that is as guaranteed as it is in America.

3. Small businesses — Love

One thing I noticed upon my arrival that I found both perplexing and intriguing was the sheer quantity of little stores that pop up everywhere in Paris. In the Montparnasse area, for example, there are over a hundred crêperies all next to each other on the same street. In America, restaurants like these would be struggling to stay alive, and they would most likely meet the unfortunate fate of closing down. Yet each of these charming, little stores that seem to only host one client at a time seems oblivious to the notion of competition and somehow stays open. Each store has its own unique character with endearing owners who take pride in their businesses, which I prefer over the larger department-like stores.

4. Objectification of (American) women — Hate, hate, hate!

No matter how hard you try, you will inevitably be picked out of the crowd as an American. And while I would love to be patriotic and take pride in my Americanness, doing so subjects you to incessant cat-calling, creepy men, and potentially dangerous situations. In fact, here in Paris, it is infinitely better to blend in than stand out. The one thing I don’t think I’ll ever become used to is the paranoia that I constantly possess when I walk around the city, especially alone. Having people yell obscenities at you in the street has grown more than weary, and having to constantly wonder if the man behind you is in fact coincidentally going in your same direction or following you has happened one too many times. Hopefully, however, as I spend more time in Paris and more allowance on Parisian clothing (sorry parents, but think of this as an investment in my safety), I will look less like a walking target.

5. Leisurely lifestyle — Love

In America, it often feels as if we are constantly working or on the move to get somewhere (read: too busy to enjoy the simple things in life). Here, on the other hand, there is nothing more enjoyable than a picnic spread in front of the Eiffel Tower or a book in hand at a nearby park. This might go hand in hand with why stores and restaurants are closed on both Sundays and Mondays, as well as why there is so much inefficiency, but alas, there lies the paradox.

6. Easy traveling — Love

Granted this is more a benefit of living in Europe in general and not solely just in France, but something I am definitely taking advantage of is how easy it is to travel within Europe. Flights are very inexpensive, making Prague, Copenhagen, Madrid, and Rome just at the tip of my fingers (all places I am about to travel to within the next couple of months).

7. The amount there is to do at night —Love

This could be interpreted as good or bad (good if you are a college student, bad if you are my loving mother). If you have the desire to do something every night, be it calm or crazy, you will be able to find something to meet your every wish. This truly is a city that never seems to sleep, and as the metro closes at 1:30 AM and reopens at 5:30 AM, many Parisians (and some daring, caffeinated study abroad students) find this to be an excuse to do exactly that—stay out till 5:30 AM. Though I have yet to catch the 5:30 home, boredom is not something that has arisen during my time here at night.

8. Coins —Hate

All I will say about the matter is this: is there really a need for so many coins (I’m talking one-cent, two-cent, five-cent—the list goes on—coins)? I don’t want them accumulating in my wallet, and trust me, the waiters don’t want them either, even as a tip.

9. French drivers —Hate

In the words of my French professor: “If I’m walking, I don’t obey the law. If I’m on my motorcycle, I don’t obey the law. If I’m driving, I might obey the law a little… but only because it’s a little more dangerous.” If you didn’t already gather, walking around in Paris is simultaneously confusing and life-threatening. Just when you think you have a green light, a Smart Car will jet by you blowing cigarette smoke in your face. One must be vigilant when getting around in Paris, as no one pays attention to the law (still on the fence is such laws even exist), and there seems to be no rhyme or reason to how either vehicle or foot traffic moves.

The past month in Paris has flown by rapidly, and I only hope time slows down so I can get to experience the hundreds of other things accumulating on my Parisian Bucket List. Because before I know it, it will be time to jet back to the great ol’ United States of America.

weekend festivities.

And what a weekend it was! Friday evening began with dinner provided for us on a scenic boat ride down the Seine River. I believe it was when I stepped out onto the patio and looked around (absolutely in awe, mind you) that I had my first real a-ha moment: I’m going to spend the next three months in Paris! Floating by the impressive, classical architecture, watching French lovers toast to their futures on their picnic spreads, gazing up at the Eiffel Tower beaming from above, it suddenly struck me that I am surrounded by years of beauty, history, and culture.

Seine Boat Ride

Unfortunately the night did not end as terrificly as it began. Note to all of you crazy college kids: while chasing with rosé might sound like a solid idea in theory, think again, for there can be many unforeseeable consequences including but not limited to: taking on the role of the sloppy college girl as well as losing jewelry (oh, and pride of course).

The next night was much more calm, spent with Dan and the Seine. One thing I absolutely love about Paris: the entire city stays awake late into the night. Whether it’s in an open square or on a tiny cobblestone street, people of all ages can be spotted enjoying life, bottles of wine, and good company. Hardly anyone seems to notice that 3 AM is quickly approaching. By the Seine, old couples sat and enjoyed the scenery, young hooligans drunkenly sang off-key, guitarist and all, and groups of friends poked at a bonfire. Trying to keep up with the vitality of the city, we wandered through the winding streets in desperate search for a Red Bull (I guess I don’t have as much energy as these Parisians do). Finally, energy drink in hand, we continued our stroll, casually passing the Notre Dame and the Catacombs, both destinations I will most definitely be visiting in the near future. After a long night and many miles walked, I returned to my humble abode more than ready for a good night’s rest.

Notre Dame at Night

Today was another successful day of exploring all that Paris has to offer. Although not getting hit by traffic is on my top priority list here in Paris, somehow Dan convinced me to risk my life and use of my legs by going on a bike ride to the Eiffel Tower. Paris has this incredibly neat and efficient bike system called the Vélib’. There are Vélib’ stations all over Paris, allowing its citizens to rent a bike from one location and drop it off at an entirely different location at a really affordable price.

Vélib’ Station

On my bike!

As I hopped on my bike and chased Dan up and down the streets of Paris (thank god for spinning; there is really nothing easy about going uphill on a cobblestone path), we finally arrived at the Eiffel Tower.

La Tour Eiffel

There were a lot of shenanigans going down in the general vicinity. For one, the police academy was putting on a show, in which ten or so policemen donned tight red, white, and blue spandex and commenced to climb a large construction structure while doing all sorts of difficult gymnastics positions. All in all: impressive.

Then off to the right was probably one of the more endearing things I’ve seen since my arrival in Paris. A mini “Familyathon” (not quite a triathlon, since swimming was omitted) hosted adorable, little, competitive French children. Family members and strangers alike rooted on the fierce little tykes as they biked and ran 50 meter lengths back and forth with unmatchable ferocity. Jack, I without a doubt witnessed the future Maccas of our time.

After taking in the scenery and playing “Spot the American”, we lounged on the Champ de Mars, the grassy area in front of the Tower, reading some good old Jonathan Safran Foer and napping. As dinner time approached, we took our bikes back, taking an alternative route which was next to the Seine (it appears I just can’t seem to stay away from the muddy, polluted river), and ended the beautiful, sunny day with a dinner outside a quaint little restaurant in Dan’s part of town. It was truly a perfect Parisian day.

Tomorrow’s my first day of school at Institut Catholique! Here’s to hoping I can actually locate my class without too much trouble.