Glass Lace and Star Trek Trains

On this wintry Sunday evening, I am packing and getting ready to go up North for three days for work-related business. Its hard to believe that winter is pretty much on our heels right now... they are calling for 50% chance of snow tonight and tomorrow morning. It shall be interesting to see how my 4 hour drive goes tomorrow!

While packing and preparing for my drive this week, I thought about the transportation that we experienced in France. Europe has one of the best, most efficient train systems in the world. In fact, 70% of Europeans do not even own a car. Why bother, especially if you have the Metro or a train station so conveniently close by? When we were in France, we use the trains between Paris, Tours, Lyon, and Nice. It was surprisingly cheap! It only cost $11 for one First-Class ticket. The First Class cars were very nice- plush, red velvet seats with tables to play cards or use your laptop on. We used both kinds of trains in France: the TGV and the regular train. The difference between the two will be explained below via pictures.

Now, to start things with...

The train stations are just absolutely phenomenal. They are the original train stations from the Haussman period (1800s). They have the original glass windows, iron details, and all the cool stuff that I like about older buildings.

This is Gare de Lyon. This is considered the "headquarters" in Paris. It is the largest and the busiest station in the city. All of the trains and metros (subway) ultimately go into this station before going out to other boroughs of the city.




This is Gare de Auschwitz. This is the station in Paris that has trains going out to various towns all over France. This is where we took our TGV to Nice. Its a nice, smaller station compared to Gare de Lyon. We very much appreciated the fact it was less busy and easy for us to settle down in before our long trip to the Mediterranean.


You may think, "Oh, whoope-de-doo, whats so exciting about a bunch of old, musty French train stations?" Well, my absolutely favorite part of these buildings is that once you enter the front doors and walk past the ticket booths/kiosks, you are greeted by a wonderful sight. Unbeknownst to most travelers, inside or behind these old, musty French stations there is a huge 3-4 story glass enclosure that houses the trains. It is truly a sight...

It was so unexpected to have all this light inside such an old building. These "greenhouse-like" enclosures are made out of entirely glass and iron. Truly beautiful.

Towards the back of the building, where the trains enter/exit, it is a solid wall of glass/iron where it looks almost like lace.

Here's a lovely picture of me and Ted inside a train station. Note the unique ceiling. I never got tired of looking up when stepping off a train. The trains beside us are the "regular" trains (my apologies... I cant remember the fancy term for these trains.) They are very long, relatively narrow and... typical looking. Nothing to sneeze at, if you ask me.

Now, now... we're talking. These cool bullet-looking trains are the TGVs. They are the Star Trek version of all trains... they are sleek, FAST, and well... spaceship looking. We rode the TGV between Paris and Nice. It is approximately 580 miles and it only took us 3 hours to get there. The TGV goes up to 200 mph and it was amazing to look out the windows- everything was zipping by and it was difficult to figure out shapes and colors. It was just fun!

It was interesting to see how French train conductors treated us. Once they saw the group of us signing away, they gave us different treatment compared to the regular folk. One thing I really appreciated was that our travel agent purchased all of our train tickets in advance, so I had a nifty plastic binder with all of our individual tickets for each train trip planned. It was pretty bulky to carry, but it proved to be very important especially when dealing with train conductors. They have staff that walk through each car to check and monitor each person and stamp their tickets (and kick off the ones who dont have tickets). Often, when one would pass us by, they would ask me (it was always me... I dont know why) "Votre billet?" which means "your ticket?" I gestured that I was deaf, and they would immediately put their hands up in the air and nod their heads and continue their merry way. They didnt bother to check our tickets or stamp them. Hmm, interesting. This proved to be very convivenent later in Tours when we wanted to go to different towns that were not on our intertiary.

It was the guys' idea to "test the system" and see if we could train hop without being caught. We decided to take a short trip down to Blois, which was only a 7 minute train ride from our hotel. No biggie, right? "Nah, dont worry, itll be fine" said the guys. Well, once I saw the uniform at the end of the car heading our way, I started to fidget and told the others that he was coming. We started signing animately to make it obvious that we were deaf. Of course, he asks ME (why me?? geez) "Votre billet?" My response was "huh?" and point to my ears. He then pointed to my ticket package and gestured he wanted to see it. At this point, the guys were frozen and their eyes were big. Busted!!! I had to go into this elaborate story (in my limited french) how we missed our stop and we're trying to loop back to the correct stop and how we are so sorry... we're Americans, ya know? We're idiots... blah blah blah.

Apparently I said or did something right, the conductor just nodded his head off and graciously walked on. As you can imagine, Kathy and I bopped the guys on the backside of their heads and we bought tickets for ourselves for any unplanned trips (the guys didn't, no surprise... and they never got caught. Go figure).


Anyway, by the end of our trip, we were pros at navigating the train system in France.

Tonight, Im wishing that I could conveniently hop on a train up North, rather than driving 4 hours in the cold snowy weather. It would be so much easier sitting in a plush, velvet seat with my laptop and a large cup of hot tea.

Ordinary Photos, Extraordinary Memories

Do you know how many pictures I came home with from France? 2,800 to be exact, and that's just from my camera. Crazy, eh? Nah, not if you really know me.

There are so many photos that most people will probably not get the opportunity to see, only because they will be neatly put away. For those who indeed did see my never-ending piles of photos, they seemed to whiz through them so quickly. I suppose that after so many photos, they begin to look ordinary, even boring... but they all represent something special about that particular event/day for me.

You're not exactly sure what I mean? Well, let me show you, then...


When I saw this endless view of rooftops, it immediately made me laugh. It reminded me so much of the scene from Mary Poppins. You know the one where they dance and play on the rooftops and jump in and out of chimneys? I was so tempted to hop down onto a roof and do a tap dance or two...


One thing I absolutely loved about France was the Christmas decorations. They were so simple and understated, much unlike the decorations in America. All they put up were simple trees with maybe two or three red balls. Thats it. Nothing more. It was just absolutely beautiful, especially in small towns with old, old buildings such as this one. It showed that Christmas is all about faith, family, and simplicity rather than commercial materialism.

While talking about Christmas decorations, I found myself just fascinated with these simple strands of lights in Avignon. I took maybe a million pictures of these lights. It was later that I realized that my attraction to these lights were due to their simple versatility. Who would have known that a strand of bare white bulbs would make a town so festive? They're so... French.
I definitely want these strands hung up at my wedding reception.


Ah, lavender...
You can imagine my response when I came across piles after piles of lavender in the city market. I was in pure heaven. I literally bought tons of this wondrous thing. With tons of lavender in my suitcase, I started to ooze lavender out of my skin after it seeped into my clothes. Unfortunately, after a few days I developed a quite nasty rash. Apparently I'm allergic to the raw lavender seed... it was quite devastating. It took 6 weeks, many trips to questionable french pharmacies and four shots in the bum to get my rash under control.

But I still cant help but sigh when I see this picture. It was truly lovely while it lasted.



After my lavender fiasco, I needed to nurse my dignity. So, I turned to comfort food. Of course! No surprise there. We decided to check out a pizzeria in Nice. Kathy and I decided to split a supreme pizza... boy were we surprised when it came! No, your eyes aren't deceiving you. Yes, you saw right. There is indeed a fried egg in the middle of the lovely pizza! We were quite puzzled and repulsed at first, but after taking a bite... it was not bad at all! The egg gave the pizza an extra oomph in flavor. You just have to try it!



We couldn't not see the beach while in the French Riviera. I am very proud to say that Ive seen and touched the Mediterranean Sea. The beach is not sand at all, but rather made up of beautifully polished black, white, and grey stones. It was so soothing walking on these stones warmed by the sun in barefoot. I couldn't resist sneaking a few smooth stones into my pocket. I have one in my purse at all times and rub it once in a while to remind myself of the relaxed, calm, peaceful feeling I obtained during the trip.


After enjoying a few moments with my bare feet on the warm stones, I came across this interesting sight. In December during mid-40 degree weather, there were two very brave, gutsy, elderly women swimming in the Mediterranean Sea. Obviously they were the only ones who were crazy enough to attempt such a thing in the winter, but... the more I watched them, the more I admired them. I can only hope I have half as much adventure and spontaneity as these two old French women do when I'm their age.

David and I decided to be adventurous and try socca. The best way to describe it is: "Socca is a specialty of southeastern French cuisine, particularly in and around the city of Nice. Its primary ingredients are chickpea flour and olive oil. After being formed into a flat cake and baked in a large cast iron pan, the socca is seasoned generously with black pepper and eaten while hot with the fingers."

Oh. My. Lord. Best thing Ive ever eaten. The best way to describe it is a flakey, gooey, dry hummus bread. Makes no sense, I know.

I'd fly back to Nice just for the socca. No question.



You can't really go anywhere without bumping into a gargoyle or two in France. No gargoyle is the same and they all have their own personalities. Dont you just love his pointed ears and folded wings? I named him Thor. Dont ask me why. I would definitely sleep comfortably if I had one of these outside my window, keeping the evil spirits away...

As you can see, all of these pictures may look ordinary when you flip through them, but each one of them represent something special to me.

You know what? We haven't even touched any pictures from the Chateaus and Paris yet... that'll be for another time.

My Girl

Ah, here she is... my Sydney.

I realized this morning that I had installments mentioning Sam and Macy on my blog, but nothing yet about Syd. So, its about time I talked about this cat.

I'm sure you all remember the unforgettable, irreplaceable Sylvester? He was my first cat and first pet in the truest sense. He was born when I was 6 years old and died when I was 21. I still cannot think of him without getting watery-eyed. *ahem* It was approximately 6 months after his passing that I came across Sydney. At that time, I was not in a position to have a cat, much less any pets, due to living in an apartment that forbidded animals. But I will admit it... I am a true sucker for grey cats, solid or striped. There is something about gray cats that makes me lose all rational ability. My heart immediately goes into pitter-patter overdrive and tells my brain, "Gray cat! Gray! Cuddly GRAY kitten! Take this kitten home just because it is GRAY! It doesn't matter if your landlord could possibly evict you- JUST TAKE IT HOME!!!"

That's exactly what I did.

Of course, the next morning, my rational ability came back and I panicked. Mom thought I was nuts and was worried Id be homeless, all over a little gray kitten. I spent a month contacting friends and friends' friends to see if anyone would be interested in adopting a kitten. She was nameless for a good 2 months because I was worried I would get too attached (...you're allowed to laugh here... Hollie not get too attached? Yeah right!!! hahaa hee ho hahaa). Finally, I accepted that she was officially MY cat. I think on that day my heart told my brain, "I told you so."

I have absolutely no regrets about keeping Syd.

She is my girl.

A Hairy Dilemma

I have naturally curly hair.

Not many people know this because Ive been styling my hair straight for years. In fact, my hairstylist doesn't even know I have naturally curly hair.

Recently, with my hectic, unpredictable schedule... Ive started letting my hair dry naturally. Its just simply easier to hop out of the shower, put clothes on, and go out the door with wet hair. Within an hour and half, my hair is fully dry and curly. The response Ive been getting is mixed: some love my curly hair and are jealous while a few others prefer my hair straight because they're not used to seeing me with anything else different.

Ive noticed that the longer I leave it curly, the curlier it becomes. The first day, it is half wavy and curly. Almost like my hair strands are having conflicted feelings: "Oh hey... Im supposed to go straight today, but some of my neighbors are curling up. Whats going on???" The second day, it goes "Hmm, ok maybe I'll try this curly thing today." Then the days after that, I have perfectly formed ringlets.

I like it straight because its thick, easy to manage, and more professional looking.

I like it curly because its wild and it feels like me.

Which do you prefer?

Finally, a completed project!

Instead of working on my journey book, I decided to finish my cat book that was nearly completed. I have a never ending list of uncompleted projects and books, so it is very gratifying to put this project away and consider it done!

Also, this project has a spot in my heart because it is one of very few books that I will actually keep for myself. Most of my books are made for other people and I never see them again.




As you can see, the front cover is very plain. There is a twill ribbon tied around it. It doesn't look like much at first glance, but once you open it...


You have a collage of pictures, embellishments, text and pull-out tabs with additional things to see. Its an interactive fold-out book about my two lovely kitties. This side (above) is about Sydney.


This is Macy's side.

The two pictures below are a close up of pages and their pull-out tabs. Click to enlarge them if you want to read the text. Of course pictures don't do justice. Its much better if you look at it in person and pull out each tab. It was a very fun project to work on.




Ok, now that Ive completed a project, its time for me to do some cleaning. There is a pile of dirty dishes calling my name...

Your feedback?

Its now been a week since I started this blog. Ive posted several installments, and I am wondering what you think of the whole idea?

Do you think my blog is boring? Exciting? Dorky?

Do you want me to get rid of the whole thing? Do you want me to keep going?

Any feedback you may have will be hugely appreciated.

Is it possible to relax?

Today I got a lovely postcard from Nathalie, a friend from Paris. Her writing brought back many memories about my trip to France. I think I was destined to be an international traveler. I am absolutely in love with the idea of leaving my comfortable zone to explore different cultures, languages and way of living in other parts of the world. Even though Ive been to only two countries, the experiences Ive obtained are priceless.

In Australia, I found and lost a love.
In France, I met myself in Paris.

The whole process of getting on a plane, flying for more than 7 hours, experiencing jet lag, getting situated in a foreign country, and exploring exotic cities has a very calming effect on me.

You don't know what I mean?
Ok, here is evidence A:



Here we are, at Chicago O'Hare, waiting for our flight to Paris. We are bright-eyed, excited and full of energy. We are looking forward to a much-deserved vacation away from stress of everyday life. We are bundles of high energy, ready to snap any minute.

Now, evidence B:

After two glorious weeks exploring France, here we are at Charles de Gaulle airport, reluctantly waiting for our flight home to Chicago. I don't know about Kathy, David or Ted, but I am relaxed, calm and at peace . My body feels like a large pool of warm goo and it seems like I'm just about to slide off that chair. If you enlarge this picture, you will see that my face is glowing. I'm oozing happiness.

Now you see what I mean?

Ever since I got back home, Ive been trying to figure out how to keep that relaxed, calm and at peace feeling a constant in my life. As all of you know, I am a type A personality and am very ambitious... is it even possible for me to relax for longer than 5 minutes? At home, if I have a sink full of dirty dishes or dirty clothes piling up, I cannot ignore them and relax. I clean the dishes and throw the clothes in the wash, then try to relax but then I see something else that needs to be cleaned up, fixed, completed or moved. Its a never ending cycle...

The only time I can really, truly relax in every sense is when I'm traveling.

I have an airline ticket to Paris in my name that I haven't used yet. I will probably go back next year, either in the spring or summer. Kathy and I are planning the details for "A Girls' Getaway." We plan to explore the french flea markets, check out places that the guys didn't want to see during our last trip, see all the flowers and gardens in bloom, and just simply relax in this très chic city. We also want to get together with our French deaf friends that we met in Nice.


Its a fun, interesting story how the 4 of us met this group of deaf people in Nice. I will save that for another day, along with many other stories from France. From left to right, here is Sylvain, Renauld and his wife Cathy, Regis and his wife Nathalie. They sent me a lovely postcard today saying they're back in Nice for holiday and want to know when they will see us again? "Perhaps we can meet in Paris?"

Ah, so tempted...

(If you can name the movie with the line "I met myself in Paris," you will have my forever admiration. )