Lille

This weekend my good friend Rose invited me up north to the city of Lille. It was a very pretty city that reminded me of parts of Germany. However, I could not believe how cold Lille is! I wore all the clothes that I brought, everyday.

Don't be fooled by the sunny photos! It was still cold.

McDonald's is everywhere.

I followed signs advertising the "Lille Grand Palais" because I thought they would lead me to the "Big Palace of Lille." Such a let-down to find this shopping mall...

Place de la Republique

Paintings from le Musee des Beaux Arts

Rose lives about forty five minutes outside of Lille in a town called Valenciennes. This is the giant needle of art in their city square.

The main church of Valenciennes.

At the Musee des Beax Arts de Valenciennes

Rose, formerly Makenzie, with un cafe.

Rose's eccentric proprietor has chosen light purple as the theme of her entire apartment.

Rose teaches english at three primary schools near Valenciennes.

The biggest Styrofoam rat in Lille

Une glace et un tournesol.

Saturday evening in downtown Lille.

Les crepes in downtown Lille

This may not look like much, but I was in Paris for one hour to transfer trains. It was just enough time to sit down for lunch and discover that the stereotype is true--Parisian waiters are really rude.

On this trip I noticed a few differences between the northern and southern cultures of France. La bise (kissing cheeks) wasn't as widely practiced in Lille. The accent was also less nasal with less emphasis on vowels. Further, German and Belgium influence was really noticeable in the architecture and cuisine. I wish I could say that the contrast in temperature was also shocking, but our heat stopped working in Toulouse a few days ago. It is like Lille inside the apartment now.

Progress!

Today I had the crazy notion of putting my bed together in the morning and going to the museum or the cinee in the afternoon. What folly! Nonetheless, it was finished before sundown.

IKEA instructions are "universal," or, wordless. I say they are universally incomprehensible.

2 p.m.

5 p.m.

7:30 p.m.!

Outside of the Musee des Abattoirs

An exhibition based on Native American artwork.

Larger-than-life cartoons.

Hippies Use Side Door

Art? Or child pornography disguised as art? Who can say.

Giant floating skeleton.

The entire sculpture was covered in real horse hair, even over the eyelids and hooves.

Chef's specialty crepe

Une Tarte aux Framboises

One museum had a special exhibit at nighttime with living artwork and sound effects. It was also a good opportunity for Joshua lounge in a church.

A video of modern art playing in the cathedral.

A dead matador in the salon.

Les Randonneurs Toulousains; The Trudge

This past weekend, my friend Katie and I decided to be adventurous and journey into the rugged Pyrenees Mountains. We signed up with a local hiking group called Les Randonneurs Toulousains (the Hikers of Toulouse). I was so excited to see the wilderness of Europe and to get out of the narrow streets of Toulouse. However, Katie and I failed to recognize key signs of the true nature of the Randonneurs Toulousains.

1. The departure time was 8:00 am, a time when most students have only just gone to bed.

2. The Randonneurs Toulousains hike almost every weekend of the year.

3. The Randonneurs Toulousains use bus transport.

You guessed it, we were the only hikers under 65. The median hiker age aside, we made one other grave error. After about twenty minutes of driving along the autobahn, I remarked to Katie, "Hey, I think we are going North... Aren't the Pyrenees in, like, the opposite direction?" Turns out, we weren't going to the Pyrenees.

So no, we didn't go into the mountains with toned, sprightly twenty-somethings (I realize I don't fall into that group yet). In fact, we didn't even go to the mountains. Instead, we spent close to eight hours trudging through the French suburbs/countryside with very nice people three times our age. Katie and I made the best of it, but only through great effort.

Katie manages with difficulty to traverse the vine-strewn path.

Through great risk to my personal safety, I took this picture of an actual French milk cow and living veal.

Les Dindes.

The modern French woodsman doesn't use an axe.

A view from our highest point of elevation.

We hiked through people's backyards.

The Randonneurs Toulousains were so nice! They shared their ample food supplies with us at lunch and talked to us the whole way. They were also very well equipped for countryside trudging with sturdy shoes, gaiters, ski poles, and huge backpacks.

Un Cheval

Les cygnes, ou les oies. Hard to tell...

Cheesy grin

The sad thing is, after all that complaining and joking, it was actually a pretty difficult trudge. I had no desire to continue walking after kilometer 15. So, my hat is off to you, Randonneurs Toulousains! Nonetheless, it's not an experience I plan on repeating soon.

Le Printemps de Septembre

This week there is a special art festival in Toulouse called le Printemps de Septembre. There are over twenty venues spread across the city featuring artists from France and abroad. Since my university classes haven't started yet, I've been able to go to a lot of the exhibitions and explore the city. The apartment situation is looking positive, but it's still a little too early to celebrate. Bon courage!

A bridge overlooking the Jardin des Plantes.

Dozens of typically French couples kissing in the park.

The ducks of the Jardin des Plantes.

A view from a building near the edge of the city.

La Garonne as seen from Pont Neuf.

Pont Neuf from the window of the old Hospital.

This is the chapel of the old hospital and also one of the Printemps de Septembre exhibits. The chapel was unchanged visually, but there was a really creepy voice emanating from the pulpit and the confession booth that gave instructions on how to clean the hospital beds. At first I thought it was a really cool concept...

...then I found this secret room above the pulpit that looks like it's from one of the Saw movies. With the voice coming from below and Mary watching me I became really scared, took this photo, and hightailed it out of there.

Another scary wing of the old hospital.

This is the Chateau d'Eau. It used to control the water supply of the city.

The Printemps de Septembre exhibit was a part of the Chateau d'Eau building itself, contrasting the old architecture with striper poles and crumpled photos.

A view from la Prairie des Filtres. This is a park below the Chateau d'Eau that used to act as a kind of filter for the city's water.

Artistic egg carton.

Printemps de Septembre artwork.

Another example of modern artwork placed right in the center of old architecture.

Un autre tableau du Printemps de Septembre.

Paramour

This exhibit had signs everywhere reading "Do not touch" because the pieces were covered in very globby, tactile paint. Of course, this made touching the artwork even more irresistible.

This is an enlarged photo of the artist's eye pressed in a photocopier.

Gothic artwork in the Musee des Augustins.

etc.

One of the numerous biblical female nudes.

Perhaps the only painting in the museum with a black subject.

The church in the Musee des Augustins. In the place of a working alter they have erected another small museum for paintings.

Basilique Saint Sernin

On a lighter note...

It's been really fun going to all the Printemps de Septembre exhibits. Not only have I enjoyed beautiful artwork, but I have also visited parts of the city that I probably wouldn't have seen otherwise. In the meantime, I can only hope that the rental agency decides to hand over the keys before the year is up.