Belgium, Rennes, and Perspectives of Paris

Bruges, Belgium - view from the top of the Belfort.

Hey everyone :)

Alright time for a more happy-looking post. I write this as I sit in a restaurant in Rennes, sipping Breton cider and anxiously anticipating a galette, so you basically cannot imagine me any happier (this consistent grin on my face is starting to hurt though tbh!). The last few weeks have been up-and-down, lots of thinking and analyzing and reflecting on Paris and being abroad. But amidst it has also been seeing Belgium (indescribably awesome!) and beginning the first round of midterms at school and meeting more and more actual French kids my age. It’s so challenging sometimes to keep your emotions in check and to try to live the moment to its highest when you miss so many people and places, and when you’re still trying (even after a month and a half) to get used to the city you’re in and the life you’re living.

Paris is a wonderful city – that I can say with certainty, and every so often it hits me that I’m living there and the Eiffel Tower is a pretty normal thing to walk by every few days and the Louvre, which I’ve visited nine times to date, is just around the corner. And walking through the cinquième and the Marais and seeing indescribably picturesque winding cobblestone roads filled with crêperies and cafés and shops. It’s still shocking to me sometimes that I’m living this life I’ve always dreamed of – but it’s peppered with reality. The temperature is dropping, the leaves are falling from the trees, and with work and school and the weather, I don’t spend as much time walking around like I did in other places I lived. There are times I am in love with this city – and there are equally times where I know, deep-down, that I prefer London and Rennes and that it wasn’t totally what I imagined. It’s a great place, but the rationalism of the Parisian culture and the lack of connection with other Europeans that I experienced so strongly elsewhere in Europe has influenced my opinion. I have no regrets about coming here – I never would regret it – but, as the lovely Sara Crook pointed out, I’m a London boy through and through. It’s impossible to describe the emotions I feel when I open GoogleMaps and browse the streets of London where I lived – and when I imagine what it would be like to board the noon train across the Channel and spend the evening in Soho again, walking by Piccadilly and Marylebone, wandering through Paddington back to Notting Hill. It captivates me in a way Paris hasn’t – and while there’s no doubt coming to the Paris was the right choice over staying in London (both for my French and my personal satisfaction), there is no hesitation when I say that I prefer London. But in spite of it, I’m making an active effort to get out and explore and enjoy the time that I have here.

Belgian Waffles feat. crème Chantilly, grâce à Emoni. Bruges, Belgium.

As I mentioned above – I went to Belgium last week! It was such an impulse decision, I decided two days before going, but it was so much fun and one of the best weekends I’ve spent this fall. It was with the International Youth Club of Paris (which I don’t really do, but they offered a bus and lodging and a bunch of IES friends were doing it so I figured why not!), and we left at the absurd hour of 6:30 AM and went first to Bruges. It’s a beautiful (though extremely touristy) small city in Flemish Belgium near the west coast. We didn’t have a lot of time, but it was enough to absorb the hundreds upon hundreds of chocolate shops and waffle vendors (indulged in both, and both were more glorious than I can express) and saw a spectacular view of the town from the top of the Belfort clock tower (and the carillon went off as we were at the top – painful but beautiful). We then went to Brussels and essentially explored the city center at night. In the morning, we began to walk around, and somehow everyone in the twelve-person group I was in decided I was the leader and navigator so in classic me fashion, we ended up walking about 12 miles across the city on foot because I refused to take the metro! And while everyone complained about their feet at least we saw the city #AmIRight? The Atomium is so much bigger than I thought it would be, Manneken Pis is so much smaller, and the Hôtel de Ville is the most beautiful city hall I’ve ever seen. It was a wonderful 48 hours, not enough to experience Belgium fully, but enough to give me an extremely favorable impression. And plus, for the first time in my life, I tried speaking in English and decided it was too challenging mentally, and instead spoke French. And didn’t even realize this occurred or was so exceptional until someone pointed it out afterward – maybe my French isn’t bad after all :)

Le Musée du Cheval, Chantilly, France.

I also went to Chantilly two weeks ago – it’s a small town (also somewhat touristy, but very lovely) north of Paris in Picardie, famous for its château, horse museum (for real), and racetrack. All were very pleasant, and it was nice to be in a small town again after being in the overwhelming urbanism of Paris. Shoutout to Anna, Sarah, and Makayla for actually coming along on yet another random trip I’ve conjured up, and incidentally, getting me a profile picture at just the right moment :) We finished the day with pastries filled with crème Chantilly, which is the French word for whipped cream, and it indeed originates from this little town – the pastries were overwhelming in their whipped-cream-ed-ness, in the best kind of way :)

Other cool thing: shoutout to Ida for making it over to Paris from Cologne and hanging out with me two weeks ago – it was so nice to have a throwback to Rochester and to hang out with an old friend again. I managed (if you can believe it) to search blindly through the Louvre to meet her (without cell phones or a designated meeting spot, and museum entries separated by an hour) and I found her in twenty minutes, a personal achievement I will literally treasure forever – the Louvre is larger and more labyrinthine than is possible to describe, it spans easily miles of galleries, and there are so many people everywhere, so I think my feat is definitely a notable one. Advice: monitor the galleries between Winged Victory and the Mona Lisa, almost every floats through. Ida’s visit was complete with a crazy dash through the train station at the last minute to get her a suitcase, and while I did miss twenty minutes of class, it was an adventure to be sure. Hopefully I’ll be visiting in Germany?!?

Bruges, Belgium.

Anyway – I am finishing this entry after having just returned from Rennes, and I can say without a doubt that it was the most incredible sensation of being home. It’s so rare that I can experience this in my travel abroad, but taking the charming, tiny metro across town and seeing the medieval, timbered buildings I’ve missed for four months has been the best kind of medicine. Walking at night through Place Saint-Anne and Boulevard de la Soif where we used to drink wine and hang out was reinvigorating. The absence of the other ten I was with marred the re-acquaintance for sure, but it was still powerful and therapeutic to see the places again.  What I learned most from my little séjour back in Bretagne (the homeland, as the wonderful Lauren Testa put it) – use every moment to explore and see and live in the places you are, because after you catch the train onward, you can never truly experience it again – and all that is left is memories and nostalgia. When I returned to Rennes, it rejuvenated me because it reminded me that, despite the fact that I can’t ever truly experience Rennes again like I did in June, I still can with Paris, and that now is still the beginning. I realized how little I’ve gotten to know Rochester, how comparatively rarely I went hiking in Colorado, and how little I got to explore the reaches of Rennes’s city limits. The chance (at least for the latter) is gone – but for the former two, and for Paris, Athens, Vienna, Tel Aviv, Haifa, and all that will come from here forward: the chances are infinite. I spent my first day back in Paris walking all across the north of Paris through Montmartre, and it absolutely reawakened my love of the city. So while there’s not truly ever a post on this blog about going home (at least, not for another ten months), going back to Rennes was the closest I have found, and it’s already rekindled my fire and frenzy to explore – something I truly needed, four months into the journey.

For now – this weekend will be in Paris, wholly and unabashedly, while I make the most of my time here, and then the weekend after will be “home”-coming number two – a grand return to London!

Paris, France; 18 October 2016.