I kind of have a crush on the Eiffel tower

That can be the only explanation as to why, in the three days I was in Paris, I would visit the national monument three times and take countless pictures of the thing at all hours of the day and night..

Take pictures (most of them in the air) with the thing...

Climb up the stairs and take pictures inside the thing...

And take pictures of the gorgeous view the thing looks out to.

Yea, I may not have loved Paris but what I have with the Eiffel Tower? That's love.

Oh and when I say I take the pictures, I really mean Sepehr and Eddie and Nicole. Thanks guys!

No Je'taime Paris, No Je'taime!

After our Glion summer program ended, me and four brave companions, Jessica, Hagop, Sheila and Sepehr bullet-trained it to Paris, France.  

We did not have the best time getting there.  The morning we left, we were still suffering from hangovers and heartbreak (from the program ending).  

And all of us had packed too much. Each person lugged about two sizable wheeled suitcases around up Switzerland hills and through Parisian streets and lifting them onto trains and lifting them off metros and lifting them in general put everyone in an even worse mood than before.  

And the bullet-train was not as fast as a bullet (false advertisement!)  

And we were tired. 

And we were hungry. 

And Paris smelled. 

And we couldn't find our hotel.  

We had nary even stepped foot outside Paris when two of my compadres collapsed into tears and giggles right in the middle of the central train station.

When we got to the hotel, we found out that the worst wasn't over yet.  

Our hotel room is what you would call "shabby chic" without the "chic" and an extra emphasis on the "shabby."  It was rated one star and as you can tell from our genuine facial reactions to our living situation, we were trying to figure out how they got the one star.

We made the best out of our situation though.  Here I am sanitizing the knobs and switches to our room with hand wipes.

We even found it in ourselves to celebrate in our room.  Here we are clinking plastic bottles and cups of sparkling wine and missing one of our members, Jessica, who ran away from our awful hotel (just kidding, Jessica went back to Zurich to get her brother. She reunited with us in Munich later on).

And the outside of Paris was not all bad.  There were amazing monuments to check out...

Lovely parks to relax in...

Quaint flea markets to browse through...

And the world famous Champs Elysee to people watch. 

We strolled through the street a couple of times, stopping at the gorgeous and untoppable sweets shop, La Duree (Dorothy, I can't believe you never told me about this place!) and Haagen Dazs for some treats.  The macaroons from La Duree were to die for and the ice cream at Haagen Dazs were jaw dropping (and surprisingly different from what we get in the U.S. Must be the milk). 

By nightfall, we trekked back to Champs for some dancing at the fabulous gay club (though we didn't know it was one at the time), "Queen."  I personally had a really good time.  The music was divine, the guys were HOT HOT HOT but no pressure because they didn't swing my way and the dance floor was packed.  My guy friends, who got butt grazed a couple of times, might not feel the same way.  

We arrived in Paris in tears but left with smiles.  I'm still not completely as smitten with this city as many others may be but it definitely was a sight to see.

*Photos courtesy of Sepehr and especially of his "Sepehr shots."  

Icy water melts my heart

I have never been one for outdoor excursions.  My idea of a great vacation used to entail air-conditioned spaces, a nice hotel room, good food, and good shops.  I used to joke that I was allergic to the sun because if I ever stayed out too long, I would start sneezing uncontrollably until my face became a cherry-tomato-ed mess.  Then I found out that it was no joke, I actually am allergic to the sun! 

I'm also not a very athletic gal.  My forte is being the cheerleader of the team and my contribution to victory is supplied by my pep and energy and good team spirit, not my bumbling two left feet, lack of balance and strength, blind near-sightedness, and flailing, uncoordinated limbs.

But I do love a good adventure.  And I've always wanted to try white water rafting.  So we assembled a brave team of soldiers and off we went to tackle the treacherously icy glacier rivers of Chamonix, France.  

It was everyone's first time but we signed up for an intermediate level ride anyway, where the water's flows a little more ferociously. We learnt to paddle hard really quickly. Sometimes we soared.

And sometimes we sunk.

but we always had fun.

I lucked out for photo opportunities when I volunteered to sit at the front.  Here I am hard at work.

It was a really hot day (so naturally my allergies flared up and I couldn't stop sneezing. It got so bad that Jean-Michelle, our instructor asked me, "why are you crying? Are you scared?" before set afloat.) but the water was frrrrrreeeeeezing cold.  And we were forced out of the comfort of our yellow raft several times to learn how to properly fall out of the raft, what to do when you fall over and have to swim down, etc. etc.  My brain is shivering just remembering that icy coldness.

It was worth it though.  All 48 euros that I paid for the excursion was worth it. 

Next adventure to try; paragliding!  Anyone interested in joining me?

Why I Will Never Travel Light Again

I thought I had done my research.  I had read the websites.  I had browsed through the travel magazines. I had asked my friends endless questions about everything there possibly could be to know about Europe.  But I still made one fatal mistake.  I packed too light.

Now, you might be asking, "pack too light? Isn't that what you're supposed to do when traveling around Europe?"  Not if this entails forgetting your DEBIT card that you were SUPPOSED to bring on your weekend trip to Chamonix, France to withdraw euros to spend.  I thought I was so badass.  Yes! One duffel bag for the entire weekend!  Easy breezy!  When we got to Chamonix, I headed for the bank (BNP Paribas because it is part of the Bank of America Global Alliance group where you can withdraw money from the ATM in the foreign country at no extra charge, one of the best deals when spending money in Europe). Much to my dismay, I realized that I had left my debit card back in my dorm room in Switzerland.  All I had on me was a credit card and 20 Swiss Francs.  Oh yea, and get this, my credit card was also NOT working because I did not call in advance and inform them that I was traveling. (I didn't know you had to!)  

So for the Friday of our weekend trip, while my friends were off to fabulous Mont Blanc for a hike or shopping around the quaint little town shops, I was wandering through the streets by myself, trying to find some way to access my money and to stop myself from bursting into tears.  

The only thing that saved me was the amazing scenery of Chamonix.

Etiquette 101

We Americans are rude.  Not rude in the French "I stick my nose up at you" way nor rude in the Chinese "push push push through the crowds" way but in the "I have no idea what etiquette is" way.

When dining at a fancy restaurant, do the multiple utensils at the table scare the heck out of you?  Why would you need three knives for one meal? Fear not, Glion has provided me with a crash course in etiquette and now I will translate these tips onto you so that you will never have to look like an uncouth caveman at the table again!

1.  Outside In

You will be able to tell how many course a meal is by the amount of utensils on the table.  A three course meal usually entails appetizer, entree and dessert and the table should be set with two knives and forks (one for appetizer, one for entree) and a spoon.  Always start by using the utensils on the outside. When you are done, leave your silverware on your plate and the waiter will swoop by and pick it up. Then, for the next course, use the next set of utensils on the outside.

2. Switcheroo's a No No

Most of the time we dine with a knive and fork, we would cut with our right hand and fork our food with our left. Then, when it's time to insert said food into our mouths, we would drop the knive and switch the fork from our left hand to our right.  THAT IS RUDE!  Europeans tend to dine with the left hand holding the fork the entire time.  If you find that you have trouble accomplishing this, try practicing in the privacy of your own home first before heading off to the real world.

3. Finished!

When the utensils are separated on the plate, this means that you are not finished with your dish.  When the utensils are placed together, that means you are done and ready for the next course!  

When you place your fork face down, this means that you're unsatisfied with the meal so don't do this unless you want a pissed off or worried restaurant wondering what they did wrong during your dining experience!

So you'd think that after learning all this, my friends and I would have become little Mr. and Miss Manners.  Hah, think again!  Later that afternoon, we headed down to Lake Geneva for a dip and then still soaking in our ultra-junky-looking t-shirts, shorts and flip flops, we stroll into a pretty Italian restaurant and ordered some pizza.  As we started eating, we noticed that the waiters and other restaurants patrons were staring and laughing at us.  We looked around and realized that Europeans eat their pizzas with a knife and fork!  Oops... so I guess we didn't exactly pass our etiquette lessons with flying colors.  But no worries, there will be far more future opportunities to show my mad skills. Just you watch! 

See, this was our second time dining on pizza and we're already pros! Good job guys!