Samoëns Suaverie on Skis

This past weekend I had opportunity and delight to jet off to the French Alps in style. As always in France there was a nationwide transportation strike which affected the train we were to take to the mountains. What could we do? It was the last minute. The eleventh hour. Really more like 11:45. We were up a creek. On thin ice. In an unfortunate situation. But then Bertrand, a staff member and the leader of the trip to the mountains swooped in to the rescue. He ordered up what he called, "A magic Bus". It might not have been magic, but it was luxurious. Honestly like something you'd see on an MTV show of pimp my ride or road rules or something. We met up with the bus around 11 pm on Thursday night, bags and ski clothes in hand. When it rolled around the corner there was silence and you could hear everyone gasp slightly. I'm not sure whether everyone was in awe or hoping that they build bridges high enough for this colossus to slide beneath. 2 floors, 5 flat screens, 12 beds, 2 refridgerators and a chauffeur. We decided to ditch the Alps and drive all over France in our mansion on wheels. No we did go skiing and it was good. But the bus, let me tell you. Awesome. Skiing -- alright. Bus -- Yes.



No, I'm joking the bus was as fantastic as I described, but the skiing was even better. You can't imagine unless you've been there. The photos don't really give this extreme, mountainous destination justice. We arrived through the mountains early in the morning and I was awake. A friend and I walked around the small ski village and ordered a coffee and a croissant while the rest of the group continued to sleep on the bus. When everyone arose we found our bed and breakfast where we would stay and geared up (picture the scene from 'A Christmas Story') for the snow. The weather couldn't have been nicer. Blue skies. Few clouds. Weather warm enough to be comfortable, but cold enough for some snow. It was fabulous. We were carried up to the base of the ski area by the Grand Massif Express, a gondola, and then rode a few more chair lifts to rise up to somewhere near the crest of one of the peaks. 360 degrees of beautiful snow-capped mountains. Everywhere you looked seemed like some painting. It was unbelieveable. The skiing conditions were just as prime. Well groomed slopes that descended seemingly-indefinitely and challenging, but do-able trails. Usually with skiing where we've been in Michigan you choose a steep slope that's short or a longer flatter trail. Here the flatter trails when on forever (about 10 minutes actually) and the steep slopes seemed like they'd never end. It was really amazing and I would strongly recommend to every able body out there to do some skiing in the Alps...now. go.

Every night we returned sore and tired and didn't have much difficulty finding our dreams. We slept well. And after returning I slept even more. My body was aching. My whole face was, and still is, congested. I have a cold. Yesterday I felt miserable. I'm not able to soar down a mountain ripping by the beginners and slow pokes (just kidding Dad). But seriously the fastest I can go now is a jogging pace. Jacques thinks that going up a mountain only to go all the way back down and then repeat is pointless. Well I would say that the goggle sunburn on my face and the weakened condition of my body can only show that I had one of the best weekends ever just going up and down a mountain.

A Day In the Life

just after a dinner party at Jacques.

the day after the dinner party I took out empty wine bottles.

this is my school. There's a small sign just above the codebox that says I.E.S. -- that's all for my school.

this is the viennoiserie/boulangerie across the street. They sell all kinds of breads, sandwiches, and pastries.

my morning metro commute.

a typical breakfast chez Jacques

the boulangerie on our street. We're becoming friends because we go to this one most often.





Jacque's kitchen.
Jacque's exotic dining room.

the view from my room.


the bathroom. (Notice the lack of a shower curtain; also see our dryer in the top left hand corner)

the first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning.

Pictures now, then words later when I have more time. I'm going skiing this weekend in the Alps!

Sinking into the Culture

Well, it's about time for somethin' new huh? Life has been treating me well here in Paris; Classes are underway and they're going well. So far they're not entirely challenging, but very interesting. I'm in a modern art class which is fantastic because we've had the opportunity to go to the Musée d'Orsay to see the real works that we study in class. Our teacher shows up at the museum and walks around while explaining the precise details of the pieces of art and their artists. The Musée d'Orsay has an impressive collection of impressionist works among others. We walked by the priceless art of Van Gogh, Monet, Manet, Seurat, Gauguin, Renoir, Degas, Pissaro, and so many more.

Since my last post I've been to Belgium (Brussels is not great and Bruges is calm with canals running throughout the city, like veins that give the romance to this small place) and Provins, Rouen, and Dieppe. I've also been busy working on plans for the future: Skiing in the Alps next weekend, London the last weekend in March, Wine tasting somewhere in France the 1st weekend in April, Springbreak in Nice, Venice, Florence, and Cinque Terre after that, Mont St. Michel, Munich, then I'm finished with school. I guess my schedule is packed.

This past weekend, after spending some quality time with Vanessa in Rouen and Dieppe (Dieppe only for an afternoon for some beachtime and lunch), I returned home to Paris for a Dinner party Parisian style at Chez Jacques. The. Food. Was. Amazing. It was a soirée of conversation, good food, wine, and discovering just how many cigarettes french people can go through in an evening. 12 or so. Not so many I guess. Jacques doesn't smoke luckily, but it's no big deal to smoke in his apartment and it doesn't smell bad at all. We sucked Moules (with is french for mussels) out of their shells, in a soup of carrots and coriander, aided our digestion, apparently, with some fresh -- not like cheese can really be fresh at all -- camenbert, Stephen's favorite. It's like brie, but not at all the same according to Jacques and any other french cheese lover. Then we finished the meal off with some cooked apples. mmm. I feel like I should mention a few of the highlights of my wine education thus far here: first off, in order to taste wine here are the steps: 1) pour wine into glass ending the pour with a slight twist 2) swirl the wine around the glass so as to aerate the beverage 3) stick you nose into the glass as if you're attempting to breath it up your nose 4) then. drink a little --don't swallow, but instead swish it around you mouth and definitely taste it on the underside of your tongue 5) then have another glass because I have yet to find a wine that's not good here in France, but of course I haven't been developing my taste for the grape drink since I was 9 years old like Jacques and many others. It's a large part of their culture.

Jacques has commited himself to teaching me how to prepare several french dishes. He is an excellent cook and I can't wait to learn and bring back some choice recipes including chocolate mousse, cassoulet, pot au feu, couscous (yeah not actually french), and just some general cooking styles.