# date time location event
0000.01 28 DEC 2005 This morning, I went to the bank, withdrew cash, and bought pounds and euros. Enough pounds for the cab rides to and from Heathrow, and money for pub food that evening. Luckily, Brit pubs can now stay open twenty four hours a day, so I'll get to see what all the fuss about fresh Guinness is about. After that, I took my list of equipment and serial numbers to the USCBP office to register my dutiable personal articles prior to departing the United States. I now have a stamped and signed registry from CBP. Woohoo. This thing is really happening.
0001 02 JAN 2006 1520 Milwaukee Amtrak Station, 5th and St. Paul catch bus to Chicago
0002 02 JAN 2006 1710 O'Hare Airport, Terminal One arrive O'Hare; shuttle to Chicago lodging
0003 02 JAN 2006 1800 Super 8 Motel, Chicago/O'Hare Airport Chicago lodging
0003.01 02 JAN 2005 Having packed everything I'd need, I slept in until Stephanie showed up to have lunch and take me to Amtrak. The bus ride was uneventful, beyond the fact that it took way too long. Got checked in to the motel, met Sylvia for dinner, and she gave me a copy of _Einstein's Dreams_ to read while passing the time. I suspect it'll be yet another interesting somethin'-somethin' in our ongoing discussions about the nature of emotions. The Motel's shuttles only run on the hour, so to make check-in on time, I'll need to be on the 6:00am shuttle. Not looking forward to that.
0101 03 JAN 2006 0630 Super 8 Motel, Chicago/O'Hare Airport Transit to O'Hare
0102 03 JAN 2006 0710 Chicago-Ohare, IL (ORD) - TERMINAL 3 check in - Chicago
0102.01 03 JAN 2005 I woke up in an alternate universe this morning. The shuttle dropped me off at my terminal at about 6:15am. I was checked in through Milan, through security, and to my gate by 6:35am. At O'Hare. Despite my devil-may-care attitude about which Stephanie warned me, "I would ~so~ search you." Despite the jumble of electronics and cables in my carry-ons. Alternate universe or no, I think this is a good omen for the trip.

So of course, I had all this extra time at O'Hare, and with no place comfortable to nap, I ended up doing a lot of people watching. Or rather, a lot of dumba$$ American watching. I made a concerted effort in my dress and mannerisms to ~not~ be one, and took it as a compliment when Stephanie told me that I didn't look like an American, or at least not a dumba$$ American. That's always good for being treated well overseas. Of course, there were plenty of people unlike me at the airport. People sporting 'Juicy Heiress' sweatshirts, Ugg boots, sipping on one of those frosty coffee shake beverages from *$$. People in knee length, baggy shorts, t-shirts, flip-flops and backward basebal caps. I think TSA should enforce a dress code for overseas travellers. I'm sure that would do a little in helping America's image in the rest of the world!
   
photos (click to enlarge)        
        Juicy Heiress     Zee plane! Zee plane!
0103 03 JAN 2006 0910 Chicago-Ohare, IL (ORD) - TERMINAL 3, American Airlines flight 90 depart Chicago
0103.01 03 JAN 2005 Sweet jeebers, this is a long time to sit. Thanks, Tiffany for the useful French phrases. I'm sure my seatmates were wondering why I was chuckling quietly to myself in my seat. My fave? "I'm sure this wine has been drunk before." I amused myself with a plethora of MP3's, Sylvia's gift, my book on Provence, in which I've flagged all the things I want to do in the next two weeks, and watching "Just Like Heaven" with Reese Witherspoon and Mark Ruffalo. An interesting concept, though plagued by typical Hollywood-ness, and a wonderfully scary cover of The Cure's song to open the film.
0104 03 JAN 2006 2235 London Heathrow, UK (LHR) - TERMINAL 3 arrive London
0104.01 03 JAN 2005 Heathrow is like a rat maze, no windows, lots of metal hallways, fourescent lighting and really ugly design. 60s utilitarian all the way. Like a industrial basement. First impressions being everything, this is the worst airport I've been in to date. Finally found my way to customs, and the agent asked how long I was staying in the UK. "Overnight," I replied, "then on to Milan in the morning." He asked, "And what are you doing in Spain?" "Ummm. Italy." An embarrased chuckle..."Italy. Right. Italy. What are you doing in Italy?" It was late at night. He'd had a long day.
0105 03 JAN 2006 2250 London Heathrow, UK (LHR) - TERMINAL 3 travel to London lodging via cab
0105.01 03 JAN 2005 It was too late at night for the hotel shuttle to still be running, so I did get to ride in a London cab, very roomy. While waiting for the cab, there was a huge billboard across the street for Royal Bank of Scotland. Jason.
0106 03 JAN 2006 2330 Heathrow Lodge London lodging
0106.01 03 JAN 2005 The lodge was in a quiet, quaint British neighborhood, and was mostly dark by the time I arrived. The desk clerk was waiting for me in the vestibule, smoking a cigarette in the dark, and as I walked across the parking lot, switched on the lights and held the door open for me. The room was small and without frills, though the bathroom was very cool. It was a plastic insert set into the corner of the room, with a tiny round shower. Manufactured in France, it was my first taste of French culture on this trip. Or something. There was no food near the hotel, as the pub across the street was already closed, but they did have a fridge full of Indian stuff for sale. After deliberating for a good five minutes, I finally decided on the chicken jalfrazi. Wow.
   
video (click to view, right click/apple click to download)        
    Heathrow Lodge in all its glory.
silent, 0m32s, 1.1M, Quicktime		     Song (and music video) of the day
4m03s, 7.1M, Quicktime
0201 04 JAN 2006 0530 Heathrow Lodge travel to Heathrow via hotel shuttle
0202 04 JAN 2006 0550 London Heathrow, UK (LHR) - TERMINAL 1 check in - London
0202.01 04 JAN 2005 In retrospect, London is dark. I suppose that my impressions of it are tainted by the fact that I arrived at 11p and was dropped off the at airport at 6:15am to facilitate check-in. Once again, I pretty much walked through security without incident, and was ready to go before they even assigned a gate to my flight. I wasn't able to experience any of the things I wanted to experience in London, unfortunately. The Tube didn't go anywhere near my hotel, and the pub was closed. Short story, it's just the excuse that I need to come back and explore. Pub food. Riding the tube. Experiencing fresh curry house offerings instead of vended. Another travel destination to add to my list.

Of course, with time to kill at the airport, I discovered that the British are far less PC about air travel than the U.S. While I'm used to all the euphemisms like "in the event of a loss in cabin pressure" or "in the event of a water landing", announcements in the airport and on planes at Heathrow were quite direct and to the point. "In the interest of security, all unattended baggage will be removed adn destroyed." "Should a sudden loss of oxygen in the cabin occur..." and "emergency landings". They also talk about using the light and whistle on the life vest to "attract attention". They actually acknowledge the hazards of air travel instead of doing that weird American sugar-coating. Of course, all done with a British accent. I sometimes think you could say ANYTHING with a British accent and get away with it.
0203 04 JAN 2006 0750 London Heathrow, UK (LHR) - TERMINAL 1, American Airlines flight 6523 operated by BRITISH AIRWAYS depart London
   
photos (click to enlarge)    
        The Alps from the plane
0203 04 JAN 2006 1045 Milan Malpensa, Italy (MXP) - TERMINAL 1 arrive Milan
0204 04 JAN 2006 1220 Terminal 1, Arrivals, exit #5 Malpensa Shuttle to Statzione Centrale
0205 04 JAN 2006 1330 Hotel Virgilio, Via P. L. da Palestrina 30 Milano, Italia 20124 Milan lodging
0205.01 04 JAN 2005 Ahh, Milano. Never before have I been so excited to get back to a place. Found my hotel after a brief stumble...I walked right past it and needed to ask a flower vendor where it was. Unmarked building, and I never even saw the placard on the wall that read "Hotel Virgilio". After settling in, I decided to go out walking and take in the falvor and excitement of the city, to see if it was everything I remembered it to be from my last visit.

Milan is a delicious blend of old and new. Huge public building c. 1913 referencing the past in all its classical glory, but with the craftmanship of the early part of the century still intact. A reference, not a simulacra. After findign the cafes and parks I remember from last time, I had to go to the Duomo, which I'd missed last time around. Decided to use the subway system instead of walking. Emerging from underground at my destination, I was greeted by a Duomo covered with scaffolding and tarps, as if Cristo had been there. I managed to get a photo of the one portion of the building that wasn't under construction. Even more surreal, though, was a Nivea-sponsored ice-skating rink set up in the Piazza, blaring Kylie Minogue remixes. Afterward, a walk around the piazza. Four, count 'em FOUR freakin' McDonald's in a few blocks' radius. All packed to gills. There's something wrong here. And yes, it is a Royale with cheese. For 1.95 euro. A number of the older buildings to the east of the Duomo have been converted into a shopping mall, but the mosaics and glass roof from the late part of the 19th century are still intact. Fashion in Milan has taken quite the interesting turn as well. Don't know if this has caught on in the states yet, but many women are wearing knee-length shorts, tight, knee-high boots, and tights or stockings peeking out of the tiny gap between. It's a very interesting look. I like it a lot.

Back at the hotel, I walked to the corner cafe and tabac for lunch, a most amazing Fusilli Puttanesca with a double espresso. Then, to the park on the other side of the block to watch a 4 on 4 game of pick-up soccer on a field that was half iced over from the recent snow. After that, I stopped in the video store next to the hotel, quite intrigued and amazed with the selection of items not available in the US. That in and of itself is a reason to move to Italy. Coming out of the video store on the way back to my hotel, a really hot Asian/something woman propositioned me, "You come to my room, no?" I politely declined. I had some golden-hour views to capture from the hotel window and was losing light fast.
   
photos (click to enlarge)                        
        Duomo     Shopping 'mall'. Mosaics abound.     Milan building     Views from the hotel (including panorama)
   
video (click to view, right click/apple click to download)    
    Song (and music video) of the day.
5m00s, 9M, Quicktime
0301 05 JAN 2006 0630 Milan travel to Centrale Station
0302 05 JAN 2006 0710 Milan Centrale, Train RIV-141 travel to Nice
0302.01 05 JAN 2005 It was still dark when the train left the station, twilight just peeking up above the horizon. By the time it was light enough to see anything, we were in the countryside. For limited visibility, the ground was still covered with snow, and a layer of frost on everything gave the world a silvery-gray hue. Fog continued to the mountains, until, emerging on the Genoa side of the tunnel, I was greeted by blue, sunny skies over a placid Mediterranean sea. Midway between Nice and Marseille, fog and clouds came in again, but most of the trip was incredible. At Alessio, flowers in bloom. Beyond Savona, palm trees, cacti and trees full of oranges zipping by as I travelled toward Marseille. Diano Marina wash lush and green. Gardens, more orange trees, palms and succulents everywhere. Vibrant colors all over.
   
video (click to view, right click/apple click to download)    
    Song (and music video) of the day
5m49s, 10M, Quicktime
0303 05 JAN 2006 1200 Nice Ville arrive Nice
0304 05 JAN 2006 1335 Nice Ville, Train TEO-4764 travel to Marseille
0305 05 JAN 2006 1604 Marseille, St. Charles Station arrive Marseille
0306 05 JAN 2006 1630 TBD travel to Franziska's
0307 05 JAN 2006 TBD 31, Boulevard de la Libération, 13001 Marseille at Franziska's
0307.01 05 JAN 2005 First impressions of Marseille

Arrived near sunset. Picked Franziska and Armand out of the crowd as they entered the terminal building due to her conspicuous German accent. Walked to her house, then had tea, bread and cheese and salad while listening to jazz, followed by a long walk through the streets at night. Vibrant. Energetic. Exciting. Unicyclists at the Couer Julien. Graffiti everywhere. The hills remind me of San Francisco, heck, the whole PLACE does, but with a decidedly more interesting vibe. Denizens of the City by the Bay would definitely appreciate ~this~ city by the bay. More international and multicultural than L.A.
0401 06 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
0401.01 06 JAN 2005 Started the day realzing that my 220v-110v adapter had MELTED overnight while charging my laptop and was no longer functional. Whoopee. Unless I can find a replacement, my laptop, cell phones, cameras, etc., etc., are dead once the batteries run out. Not an option. Managed to find a hardware store and make my way through a rudimentary french transaction, looking up the word for adapter, and taking in the plug I had and needed to pantomime the connection which I was trying to make. Luckily, an electrician was buying some romex in the store, and between he and I and the shopkeeper, we managed to get me what I needed. Merci. Merci Beaucoup.

Explored Marseille in a drizzle, walking down La Canebiere to Vieux Port, then through the Arabic markets on Rue longe du Capuchins. Vendors on opposite sides of a narrow alley yelling that THEIR oranges are better. Found the masoor dal and jasmine rice for dinner, and bought baguettes as well. Ordered 'tres', the shopkeeper asked 'trois?' I'm still thinking in Italian. Stopped at the Bar de la Place at Rue de Lodi and Place Notre Dame du Mont. Coffee, cigarette smoke, and a TV quietly playing French music videos. The pinball machine has a noise that sounds like my 'you've got a new text message' tone on my phone. Still have that 'reach for the phone' reflex going on. While wandering, I did have a couple wander up to me and start asking directions. My grand master plan to blend in is working like a dream.

There are acacia trees everywhere.
   
Vocabulary
  • d'un adapteur - adapter
  • combien? - how much?
  • trois - three
  • la carte - menu
  • l'addition - bill
  • un reçu - receipt
   
photos (click to enlarge)    
        Marseille's Vieux Port panorama
   
                click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download
        Historical marker at Marseille's Vieux Port     Bar de la Place
0501 07 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
0501.01 07 JAN 2005 Slept until noon. I was up late making copies of obscure jazz recordings. Went out and wandered the city after about 2p, taking some pictures, but not as many as I'd hoped; overcast skies were making everything flat and uninteresting. Good for capturing the colors and shapes of the graffiti, not so good for highlighting architectural details. Wandered around making a list of places to photograph once the sun comes out. Once while taking a picture, a gentleman walked up to me and started asking me questions about my camera. I understood about every eighth word, but had to politely indicate that I didn't speak French. Even with a camera in my hands, gawking at the sights, they try to speak French with me. Love that.

The love film here. Anecdotally, I knew that, but experiencing it first hand--wow. There's a store called Videodrome. Homage to Cronenburg, I'm sure. Films are organized by country, and alphabetically by director within country. The auteur culture of French film rearing its head. Even the commercials for films appearing on TV advertise the name of the director alongside the film titel. Videodrome's offerings are a cross between my collection and my list of films to see. American films are limtes to genre classics (John Ford, etc.) and indie favorites like American Beauty. There's a theater nearby running a different film every night on six different screens. So many choices, so littel time. If that's a drawback of living in France, I'd learn to deal with it. Films cost €7, which is slightly cheaper than American films when adjusted for the exchange rate.

Had coffee down the street, then went to a small Arabic place for a gyro sandwich. No pita, but a baguette. Interesting fusion. Interestingly, it was real chunks of meat as opposed to that pressed crap we have in the states. Very flavorful for a gyro. Although the shopkeeper spoke rudimentary English and I rudimentary French, I was unable to ask what the French word for 'gyro' would be. I've seen 'greek sandwich' in places that have the rotating spit o' gyro meat, so I'm sure I could always ask for that as a standby and hope for the best. It's not like I'll order it and get something I'll hate.

Hip-hop culture is really big here, which could explain the preponderance of graffiti on the hip shops.

Returned home, Stephan was practicing a soulful rendition of "My Funny Valentine" on trumpet, followed by "'Round Midnight". Benjamin was playing some harder, punky stuff on the other side of the house. Great mix.
   
Vocabulary
  • le zinc - bar
  • un sandwich - sandwich
  • croqe-monsieur - grilled ham and cheese
  • doner-kebab - gyro-esque sandwich
  • je vedrais... - I would like...
  • frites - french fries
   
photos (click to enlarge)                     click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download     click here for a gallery of miscellaneous shots from the day. Mostly graffiti.
        Videodrome     views from my room (including panorama)
0601 08 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
0601.01 08 JAN 2005 Slept until about 11:30. This is getting to be a habit it seems. Then I went out and sat at a cafe soaking up the sights, listening to the sounds, and drinking coffee. First sunny day since I've been here, though it is hazy sun. Snapped a few photos. I love being out in the street and not seeing Packer-wear every time I turn my head. The more time I spend in Europe, the less I feel like an American in my soul.

So I'm out wandering around, and this old guy starts talking to me. I think he's begging, so I just give him my best "No parlez Francais." "Parla Italiano!" and he starts spouting out his pleas in Italian. "Un piccolo," I respond. Then he holds out his hand, and in heavy accented English, says "Money!" I walk away wondering...do I speak French with an Italian accent? Is that why he lit up and assumed I spoke Italian?

Closed out the day with a trip to La Meson, the Leo Trio did an hour and a half Thelonius Monk set, followed by Monk film clips from various sources. The bar is a sideline to music; everyone say in rapt attention as the musicians played, barely moving, not talking. Monk with vibraphone instead of piano...wow. Leave it to the French to take something so uniquely American and do it one better. Sure, the saxophonist was a little stiff, but near mechanically pefect. The bassist and drummer were wonderful, and the vibraphone player was ~grooving~. I've not experienced a ton of live jazzz, but these guys were tight. Better than anything I've seen at Caroline's or the Estate. In wandering around, I'm also coming to realize that the French appreciate jazz as much as they do cinema. I'm sure there's a connection.
   
Vocabulary
  • biere - Heineken
  • vin - wine
  • tarife - cover charge
  • comment - pardon?
  • je ne comprende pas - I don't understand
  • plus lentement, sup - slowly, please
   
photos (click to enlarge)                                 click here to listen to the sounds of Marseille, or right-click/ apple-click to download     click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download
        My room     Apartment door     I'm on the 5th floor     The aprtment, 31 Rue de la Liberation     Smart Car 'Fortwo'     Mmmm. Coffee.
   
             
        Stencil graffiti
0701 09 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
0701.01 09 JAN 2005 The sun starts peeking above the rooftops and into my room about 9:00a. I know this because I deliberately planned ~not~ to sleep until noon today. The city calls. Although the sun's up that early, it doesn't really light up the city until an hour or so later, and photography's pretty useless before 10. But what happens after that is spectacular. The sun reflects off of the light-colored buildings, giving a soft, even glow to the canyons of shops below. Strolled the streets of Marseille for five hours. Bought bread. Cheese. Wine. Had a really good slice of pizza for lunch. Stopped at the Bar L'Artistic for coffee. Could this be the rumored Marseille Art*Bar? Nope. A bunch of Armenians, drinking, smoking, and parimutuel betting at the back of the place. Not at all what I was hoping for. Oh well. Got some images. Nothing that jumps out and grabs me as much I've been hoping it would. I'm more fascinated with the PEOPLE than the stuff, so I'm going to have to learn how to say "May I take your picture?" in France, as well as some excuse why I want to that I can spout out if they ask why. Or find a translator to follow me around for a couple days while I see what I can do. The arabic markets are exciting, lots of sounds, colors, smells, but still images wouldn't do it justice. Frustrating to be here and not quite sure what's going to make a great photo for me.

Marseille at night is lovely. Most of the shops close at 19:00, so the city becomes nothing more than a handful of main streets with hundreds of dark alleys running off in every direction, begging for exploration. I feel as safe here as I do in Italy. Moreso becuase I tend to blend in with the locals quite well. I had someone else today assume I was Italian. Go figure. This is a pedestrian town, people walking everywhere, holding conversations on streetcorners, smoking and drinking beer in the bars. Most people I pass on the street issue an obligatory 'bonjour' or 'bon nuit', the shopkeepers at the late night internet cafe joke with the transvestite hookers that hangout in front of the shop. Fruit vendors pile their empty cases curbside, garbage trucks begin to rumble through the narrow streets collecting the refuse. People scurry home from work, briefcases in one hand, a baguette in the other. Couples walk arm in arm, singles walk from bar to bar, talking on their cell phones. An amazing place. I drank an entire bottle of a lovely French wine tonight. It's time for bed. Hanging out a pair of jeans to dry, I realized that I've got French doors in my room. Imagine that.
   
Vocabulary
  • poulpe - octopus
  • pain plat - flatbread
  • pimente - peppers
  • le pute - prostitute
  • beignet - jelly doughnut
  • sucrè - sweet (or sugar)
   
click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download     click here for a gallery of miscellaneous shots from the day.
   
video (click to view, right click/apple click to download)         France is for lovers. This was outside the Bar L'Artistic at lunchtime. They were at it when I walked into the place, and continuing the vigorous tonsil hockey match long after I'd been sitting there. I decided to turn on the camera just to see how long it would last. Another SEVENTEEN minutes later, they finally left. We're talking a good 25-30 minute kiss here. Yow. I love France.
16m55s, 17M, Quicktime
0801 10 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
0801.01 10 JAN 2005 Began the day with a trip to the Metro station to travel to a number of museums and tourist destinations around Marseille. The transit system in Marseille is a little wierd. Two fairly useless underground metro lines that run perpendicular to each other, and lots of busses. Got on the blue line, rode for two stops to switch to the red line, ride three stops and transfer to a bus. The bus then took me to the southern part of the city, where I visited the Musee d'Art Contemporain (MAC). That was an amazing trip. The quality and breadth of the collection, from Paschke to Basquiat. An extensive exhibition by Jean-Louis Delbes intorduced me to a very exciting artist with some excellent conceptual ideas.

From there it was the bus back to the Metro, two stops to Vieux Port, where I transferred to another bus for the ride up the highest point in Marseille, to the Basilica Notre Dame de la Garde, which has the best mosaics in Marseille. After all the stairs I'm doing at the apartment, I was glad that the bus goea ll the way to the top. Took some lovely panoramic views of the city, as well as a number of shots of the Basilica itself. Alas, it closed on January 8th (until April) for restoration work. No mosaics to be seen. I caught the next bus down the hill, back to vieux Port, wandered around the Quai and the shopping districts for a while, had lunch at the French version of Panera, La Brioche Doree, then off the Cantini Museum to see one of the best colletions of Surrealist Art I've seen. Ceramics by Picasso, many pieces by Max Ernst, Fernand Leger, Andre Masson, and Victor Braumer. In both museums, I was quite surprised to see groups of schoolkids. At MAC, preschool aged, at the Cantini, a little older, but not much. Listening in on the conversations, the curators/tour guides were explaining the finer points of surrealism to kids while they sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the pieces. I never had art appreciation classes like that in school. Heck, I never even went to the Art Museum on a school field trip. Arts education in America. Woohoo.

At the Cantini, there was an exhibition of work by surrealists who'd known each other as peers and friends, exploring how they cross-pollinated each others' work. There were a number of very interesting and exciting pieces, beyond of course, the wool covered footstools made to look like sheep:
   
  • platters and ceramics by Picasso
  • Max Ernst
    • La Femme à la lune, 1954 - 1955
    • Astres conjugaux, 1954
    • Pour les Amis d'Alice, 1957
  • Victor Brauner (quickly becoming one of my new favorite surrealists)
    • Femme se dèpliant, 08-1954
    • Anatomie des sense, 08-1951
    • Le Conquèrant, 07-1956
    • Les Èlements quise cherchent dit aussi Prèsence explosive du Symbole, 03-1958
    • La Substance du sommeil, 01-1959
    • Matriarcat, 04-1947 (an amazing work)
    • La-Bas III, 12-1949
    • Empreinte de la voluptè
  • Fernand Leger
    • Le vase, 1927
  • Andrè Masson (or for an article about some of his influences, click here)
    • Antile, 1943
    • l'Ame de Napoleon, 1967, a gorgeous mass of colors and shapes
  • Kasuo Shiraga
    • Untitled, 1987, featured HUGE globs of paint...at least 2" high off of the canvas; a very exciting work.
    And from the exhibition's monograph, "Tous ces amis artistes avaient une raison pour s'exprimer: Ils venaient [aux Treilles] échanger leur art pour trouver l'amitié, et une chaleur dan l'affecton qui leur était donneé..." All these artist friends had a reason to express themselves: They came [to the Treillised vineyards] to exchange their art and to discover their friendships, and the passion which was given to them...
   --Anne Gruner Schlumberger, 1992
   
Vocabulary
  • avec vous... - do you have...
  • plat - map
  • vous permettez - do you mind
  • cent - 100
  • photographie - photography
  • cafe - coffee
   
photos (click to enlarge)        
        The morning after.     Marseille, from Notre Dame de la Garde
        click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download     click here for a gallery of the MAC gallery. click here for a gallery of miscellaneous shots from the day.
0901 11 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
0901.01 11 JAN 2005 So after seeing all the surrealism, I decided to undertake the next phase of my photo project. I'm still not able to cross 'saleable' photos off my list, but I'm moving on anyway. The anti-doors. And planning to take some people pictures. And shots of Marseille at night.

I started off the day by walking the streets where the hookers hang out. If there's graffiti anywhere.... Of course, I wasn't disappointed. Most of the doors were in poor repair, with graffiti, some stencils, and a woman who came out very angrily asking what I was doing. "Mon Francais...eh" with the universal signal for "I have no clue what I'm saying." Then I hold up my camera, point to the tag on her door and say, taking a wild stab, "Photographie. Le grafite." She lights up. Instantly. "Bon?" "C'est bon," I reply. She starts talking a mile a minute and pointing. "You like?" "Very much," I say. "Tres bon." And with that, she lets me do my thing. Asked a couple streetwalkers (OK, it was like 9am. do these women ever sleep?) if I could take their pictures. Understandably, they said no. I thanked them politely, they thanked me, almost as if they were amazed that I'd even had the courtesy to ask. Or maybe it's just good marketing. Don't alientate your demographic. All in all, the trip was exciting. For the first time in days, I was on a visual creative flow, really feeling the vibe of the images moreso that previously. I feel that these photos are more than just vacation snaps.

I arrived at the arabian market just as the sun was high enough to make the square glow with reflected light from the surrounding buildings. Spent some time doing some stealth photography, ended up with a few good shots. Only got caught once. Told the vendor that his vegetables were c'est bon but he scowled at me and started muttering something about looking insteadd of buying. Moved on, more stealth photos, ending up at Vieux Port, on the Quay des Belges, where the fishermen come every morning to sell their catch direct from the boats. Asked a woman if I could photograph a great looking sole. She agreed, not knowing that I was wide enough to get her in the frame as well. Coming up out of the Metro in Vieux Port, there was the unminstakable smell of ocean in the breeze blowing down the steps. I could get used to this.

Franzika had mentioned the 'striped church' in the old city, so I hopped on a bus to find that. Got some pictures there, then wandered around the area. Being the oldest part of the city, the streets were narrow, and this had more of the flavor that I was expecting. Got some interesting shots. Nothing terribly spectacular, but some interesting stuff.

After returning to the apartment to drop off my camera, I headed out to Cours Julien. Benjamin had given me a tip on an electronics store that woul dhave power inverters for the flight home. The jet on which I'm travelling has 12V DC power under the seat, and that trip is prime laptop time for me. Granted, it'll be a frankenstein of an outlet...power inverter, french ground lift, then to the transformer and to my laptop, but I'll be able to get some good work done, I suspect. On the way home, I ended up in an open-air market selling nothing by secondhand books, CDs and DVDs. Dropped about €60 some obscure euro-stuff I've been hunting for, as well as some French and chillout CDs. Then, back to the apartment.

After checking email back at the apartment, I did a prelim walkthrough of some of the photos. Some of the most exciting ones I've done so far. Finally starting to feel a little bit of a creative flow coming on. Shortly after I got home, Franziska and her friend Julianna arrived at the apartment, and I offered to make another pot of dal for dinner. With it, I opened another in my series of wine roulette, and wow. I have a nw favorite red. Minervois. It's quickly supplanting Valoplicella as my all time favorite. Now, if only I could remember the store from which I got it....

At dusk, I took Franziska's tripod and went out to do some night shots of Marseille. First, some dusk shots of the Église Saint Vincent de Paul dite des Réformés with the moon in the background, and the stained glass window lit from the interior. Then, to Vieux Port for some shots of the water and La Canabiere. On the quai, two kids who were fishing tried to engage me in conversation. I at least recognized enough of the words to understand that wanted to know why (or perhaps for whom) I was shooting. No clue how to answer any of that, of course, so I went throuhg my standard "sorry, don't speak the language" routine. One of the boys asked, "English?" "Oui." "From America?" "Oui." "New York?" "No, Chicago." "Los Angeles?" "Chicago." Blank stares. "New York? Los Angeles?" I held out my hands, waving the left one when I said "Los Angeles," the right one for "New York," and bringing them together in the middle for "Near Chicago." They nodded, but really didn't care if I wasn't from New York or Los Angeles, and went back to fishing. Got some shots of the Perf$egrave;ctorie on the way back to the apartment.

When I returned, Julianna introduced me to an incredible hip-hop band, Freundenkreis.
   
Vocabulary
  • le grafite - graffiti
  • son - sound
  • salut - hi
  • poisson - fish
  • legumes - vegetables
  • louffa - loofah
   
photos (click to enlarge)                                
        Église Saint Vincent de Paul dite des Réformés     Graffti     Hotel Titanic     at the market
   
                            click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download     click here for a gallery of doors.
        at the market     Quay des Belges     Tourette Cathedral. Merde!    
   
                       
        Marseille at night
1001 12 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
1001.01 12 JAN 2005 Stephan, the architect, told me that there was one of Le Courbusier's apartment towers in Marseille. The gymnasium on the roof was particularly spectacular, and while it wasn't open as a formal tourist attraction, it wasn't closed to the public either. There's even a flat to tour by asking in the restaurant. Of course, that meant that a trip was in order, and off I went. It was very near to the Velodrome and the 'Droit Au But' shop that sells Olympique de Marseille merchandise, so that was a bonus. The building was everything I'd hoped for. A masterpiece of medernist design, a lovely melange of forms and shapes. The restaurant wasn't open when I was there, so I didn't get to see the flat.

In the perfect timing deaprtment, I arrived at Droit Au But two minutes before they opened for the day. Browsed through a plethora of merchandise, amazed by both the variety and the quantity. Everything from hard candy to lingerie, in addition to the standard sports gear I would have xpected. Picked up something for Brian, then headed out. I took the bus back to Vieux Port via the Cornicheh du Presidente John F. Kennedy which follows the coastline on the southern half of Marseille and into Centre Ville. Spectacular views, though a tad hazy. Returning to Vieux Port, and still early in the day, I did what any self respecting Scorpio would do and took the Metro and the bus to St. Pierre cemetery. Managed to get some shots of the funerary statues with which I'm quite pleased. After that, took the Metro back to Noailles, the stop for the Arabic market, recording the ambient sounds of the trip. Then, back home for a nap and a mellow night culling through photos.
   
Vocabulary
  • cemeterie - cemeterie
  • église - church
  • thon - tuna
  • numerique - digital
  • trop grande - too big
  • petit - small
       click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download     click here to listen to the sounds of the subway and market, or right-click/ apple-click to download     click here for images of the Le Courbusier.     click here for images from St. Pierre.
1101 13 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
1101.01 13 JAN 2005 Needing to make room in my luggage for the Minervois I hope to find, I decided to mail a box of dirty clothes back home. Made a trip to La Poste, bought a pre-paid box-to-the-us in which I could stuff up to 7kg of stuff, and threw in a bag of clothes, some CDs and some of the wacky stuff I've bought. After that, this being the last day that my buss pass was valid, I decided to ride the Metro and see what I could see at the ends of the routes. Most were uninteresting, but the Bouganville end of line 2 was somewhat interesting, and I got some shots there. After that, I returned to the apartment for a mellow night with the roommates, and photos of the apartment to work into a separate document containing my impressions of the apartment.
   
Vocabulary
  • timbres - stamps
  • Clarityn™ - Claritin™
  • le train - train
  • sachet - bag
  • défense de sauter! - no jumping!
  • sortie - exit
   
photos (click to enlarge)                                
        near the Bouganville Metro station
   
        click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download
1201 14 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
1201.01 14 JAN 2005 Stephane proposed a tripto Les Calanques, a sight that one shouldn't miss on a trip to Marseille. Les Calanques are fjord-like limestone formations about 15km southwest of the city, and we arrived late in the morning after a drive throuhg the city which included a dive past the jail which featured modernist sculptures of the seven deadly sins embedded into the walls. We hiked for at least five hours in the sun, in the mediterranean breeze, sometimes on narrow paths, sometimes rock scrambling, always surrounded by incredible sights. While I took close to 250 pictures, most do not do it justice. It's hard to capture the gradeur of such a place with a mere photograph. And honestly, there's not much I can say about it that's not better expressed with images.

Returning home, I napped for a bit, then Franziska's friend catherina came over and we went to see "Color Me Kubrick" at the Variété.Very good, very funny film ith Kubrick references galore and an Oscar™-caliber performance by John Malkovich.
   
Vocabulary
  • la nature - nature
  • l'oursin - sea urchin
  • le chemin - path
  • la mer - sea
  • l'entorse - pulled tendon
  • sous-titré - subtitled
   
        click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download     click here for images of the Les Calanques
1301 15 JAN 2006 Drinking coffee, eating French food, taking pictures and writing in the south of France
1301.01 15 JAN 2005 Slept like a rock last night. Went out for coffee, then walked around a bit hunting for minervois. I swear, I must have bought the last bottle of the stuff in Marseille. I've got room for a couple in my carryon, it's just a matter of finding them. Struck out, but did find something or Amy at Centre Bourse. Returned to the apartment to pack. Later in the evening, I took Franziska to dinner in appreciation for her hospitality. We chose a Lebanese restaurant (stopping in every grocery along the way tp look for Minervois, and finding only two bottles) which had an excellent menu. I had 'crevettes', which Franziska didn't know, but explaind to me as some kind of mussel. When they arrived, large, whole prawns. No worries, and when I told Franzskia 'shrimp', she said 'Oh, yes, that's what we call them in Germany.'

We talked about art and travel and American Foreign policy and how much like a stranger I feel like in the states. We talked about what might be next in her life. I'm very glad to have met Franziska; we connect on many things philosophically, and I'm honored to have her as a friend.

We walked home though the quiet streets or Marseille, my last night seeing the streets I've become so familiar with over the past week and a half.
   
Vocabulary
  • crevettes - shrimp
  • vin du pay - country wine
  • trouvé - lost
  • tissus - fabric
  • espace non fumeurs - non-smoking area
  • phares - lighthouses
   
        click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download
1401 16 Jan 2006 1102 Marseille, St. Charles Station, Train TGV-5103 travel to Nice
1401.01 16 JAN 2005 My last few hours in Marseille were spent over coffee and a croissat at the cafe that's become my new favorite spot. I'm packed and ready to go, my train leaves at 11am and we're going to meander the streets beforehand in search of the elusive Minervois. And water. And snacks for the train. Tonight, Milan. Tomorrow, home.
1402 16 JAN 2006 1325 Nice Ville arrive Nice
1403 16 JAN 2006 1405 Nice Ville, Train RIV-145 travel to Milan
1404 16 JAN 2006 1850 Milan Centrale arrive Milan
1405 16 JAN 2006 1900 Milan travel to Milan lodging
1406 16 JAN 2006 1930 Hotel Virgilio, Via P. L. da Palestrina 30 Milano, Italia 20124 Milan lodging
1406.01 16 JAN 2005 Night in Milano and slim pickings for dinner. Monday and everything's closed. Stopped at a video store and found an Italian film with Rocco Siffredi and Ciccolina that I've been dying to see. Had hoped for a rally good meal, but had to settle on Trattoria 44, the only place that seemed to be open. A fairly average vino rosso della casa, but the olive oil is amazingly light and flavorful. The bruschetta lovely, despite the tomoatoes not being quite in seaason. A near perfect gnocchi, just the right texture, with a pomodoro e fromaggio sauce. The bread, well, it's the ~bread~. Whoever said that man cannot live on bread alone has never been to Italy or France. Entree of mixed, grilled fish was OK. A bit fishy tasting, but with some excellent whole prawns. That's two nights in a row. Insalate caprese was amazing; somehow those tomotatoes were ripe. Not quite enough basil for my taste; it was more a garnish than part of the dish.

Hrm. The tiramisu della casa is in a plastic cup and the waitress just peeled the lid off of it. Shades of Henry's all over again. Hrm. And frost crystals on top. Maybe pre-packaged, semi-frozen tiramisu in Milan is better than pre-packaged semi-frozen tiramisu in the states. But still, it's pre-packaged, semi-frozen tiramisu. Hrm. Passable. Nothing to write home about. C;est la vie. Wait. That's French. And the coffee. Savoring it. Aside fro Malpensa, the last I'll have for a while.

There's an 80s station playing. It's a little surreal to hear the announcer: "yadda-yadda-yadda-Annie-Lennox-yadda-yadda-Wham!-e-George-Michael.

As much as I love Europe, it'll be good to get home and not have to think about language. It's amazing how tiring it is to be thinking Italian, French and German on top of which one to use. In Marseille, I was speaking Italian. Here in Milan, I've been saying 'oui' and 'sil vous plait'.
   
Vocabulary
  • l'urbanisme - urban planning
  • couloir - corridor
  • fenêstre - window
  • le monde - the world
  • parfait - perfect
  • de fournier - oven
   
        click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download
1501 17 JAN 2006 1100 Stazione Centrale, outside and to the left Malpensa Shuttle to Malpensa, Terminal 1
1501.01 17 JAN 2005 Well, that was delightful. And partially not. Because Virgilia was completely full, I got a double on the 7th floor, just down the hall from the elevator mechanical room. About 6am, all the clanking and thumping and something that sounded like door-slamming started in earnest as guests began to check out and cleaning staff began their morning routines. Laid in bed as long as I could before realizing it was futile to try to sleep. Showered, and without anything to really ~do~, decided to forage for breakfast, then find someplace to check my e-mail before I had to be at Malpensa. Well, to my surprise, Virgilio offered breakfast, significantly reducing my hunt and forage time. The in-lobby entertainment included a box of magazines that included Io Donna (multiple copies; I snagged one for contact information) and Max which I also snagged 'cause it was just chock full o' photo ideas and inspirations. The internet café just down the street was still closed, so I headed to Centrale to catch the shuttle. I can always use the 'net at the airport's business center.
1502 17 JAN 2006 1150 Milan Malpensa, Italy (MXP) - TERMINAL 1 check in at Malpensa
1502.01 17 JAN 2005 So I get to Malpensa about 9:30. My flight's at 13:50, so with the requisite 2 hour minimum check in time, I've got about two hours to catch up on emails, upload the next version of the site (if I can find WiFi) and relax with coffee. I walk to the business center, and there's a big sign in the window. No Internet. I go inside and ask if there's anywhere else in the airport with 'net access. "I'm sorry sir, that's not possible. There's a new law since the beginning of the year that blocks the internet from airports." Hrm. So I go upstairs to check in. The police take my passport and walk to the counter. The come back. "You're too early. Come back in an hour." Hrm. I go have some coffee. I go to the bathroom. I write a little bit. I read my Io Donna and select the images that really inspire me. I read Max and select the images that really inspire me. An hour passes. I go back to the desk and the police stop me again. They compare the flight number on my e-ticket to their little list. "we're sorry, that check-in isn't open yet. Maybe in an hour." I browse the duty-free shops. I go look for some magazines and find some Italian and French fashion magazines that once again provide a plethora of photographic inspiration. I sit for a while watching the foggy tarmac. I reorganize my carry-ons, putting the stuff I know I won't be using into my suitcase, and the stuff I suspect I'll be using into my backpack. I have more coffee. And a Coke™. It's 11:30. Back to the check-in area. A different pair of policemen. They must switch every half hour. My flight's not on the magic list yet. "Come back later." "In an hour, I ask?" the gentleman stares at me like I'm growing a third head. "Un ora?" "Si!" he smiles. I sit. I nap. I send some text messages, I hunt, unsuccessfully for an outlet into which I can plug my laptop. I have some coffee. I have a cappucino. Visit another duty free shop. Look at sunglasses. Read a newspaper. Nap for about three minutes before I get all paranoid that my luggage is technically 'unattended' with my sleeping. Stare the the floor. It's an interesting blend of terazzo tile and ribbed, hard rubber half-meter wide pathways. At the intersection of two pathways, the tile becomes raised dots. I realized that they're pathways for blind people to make it around the airport. Interesting. The details one notices when one is ~bored~. Then, 12:30. Finally, they let me through to the check-in, where it takes about foty minutes to get through. Mostly because there's some issue with some woman's luggage. They're not speaking ludly enough for me ascetain the problem, but ~both~ gate atttendants are working on it instead of checking people in. Checked in, I pass through security, go to the gate, have time for a genoa salami sandwich, and the last (really, this time) cup of coffee before leaving. That took way too long.
1503 17 JAN 2006 1350 Milan Malpensa, Italy (MXP) - TERMINAL 1, American Airlines flight 6381 operated by BRITISH AIRWAYS travel to London
1504 17 JAN 2006 1455 London Heathrow, UK (LHR) - TERMINAL 1 arrive London
1504.01 17 JAN 2005 How terribly British. The inflight meal was a cheese and picke sandwich.
1505 17 JAN 2006 1625 London Heathrow, UK (LHR) - TERMINAL 3, American Airlines flight 91 depart London
1505.01 17 JAN 2005 Are all the idiots in the world out today? I arrive at Heathrow's Terminal 1, and my flight leaves ninety minutes (give or take) later from Terminal 3. According to the little "allow this much time" brochure you get with your boarding passes, it says that I need a ~minimum~ of seventy five minutes to switch terminals. To begin with, Heathrow is one of the most ill-conceived airport designs. While I'm sure it was state of the art in the 60s, retrofitting it to meet contemporary security concerns is probably one of the things that turned it into a crazy rat maze. Seventy-five minutes to switch terminals? What's up with that. We have to queue up behind a locked door for them to let up ~out~ of the gate into the rat maze. That takes about six minutes. Then, walk to the baggage claim area and then back into the airport and security checkpoints to get to our other terminals. That's about fifteen minutes. I explain to the BA guy that I'm on a tight schedule, show him my boarding pass, and expect to be waved through the security 'fast track'. Instead, I'm directed to queue up with everyone else, and wait about forty-five minutes to finally get through security. I head over to the AA desk, show them my boarding pass from Italy, they issue me another one, and tell me I'd better run. Go, O.J., go. I have about twenty-four minutes until my flight leaves, and I've got a bus ride and the to walk to the terminal which is probably way on the other end of the terminal from the bus dropoff. Hrm. The bus isn't leaving for a few minutes, it's a ten minute ride, and then I run like hell. Make it to the gate with the last of the passengers, and make it on board just under the wire. I kinda wish the idiot BA guy would fast-tracked me so I didn't have to hyperventilate for a half hour after I got to my seat. We took off late; the wings needed to be de-iced. Since the 'refinery fire', they needed to fly in fuel, and it was a little bit chilled in the tanks, causing a little layer of frost.
1506 17 JAN 2006 1910 Chicago-Ohare, IL (ORD) - TERMINAL 5 arrive Chicago
1507 17 JAN 2006 2020 Chicago-Ohare, IL (ORD) - TERMINAL 5 travel to Milwaukee, Coach USA bus
1506 17 JAN 2006 2205 Amtrak Station, 5th and St. Paul arrive Milwaukee
1506.01 17 JAN 2005 So we're tooling along on the bus and all of a sudden the driver pulls voer to the side of the road. He mutters, "Well, I didn't like ~that~." and restarts the bus. He shuts it off, then restarts it again. He starts driving. He pickes up the radio and calls dispatch, concerned that his bus shut down on him, and that according to his oil gauges, the pressure's low. Dispatch suggests that he pull over and check the oil levels 'cause there's probably an oil leak. He does so in Gurnee, and we're sitting on the side of the road for about twenty minutes while the driver does his thing. He tries re-starting the bus. No luck. Again. No luck. He goes out and fiddles with the engine. Tries again. No luck. Then, finally, it starts again and we're on our way. We get to Racine to drop off passengers, and the on ramp back to the freeway is blocked with an accident. Unbelieveable. I just want to be home.
   
        click here to listen to the song of the day, or right-click/ apple-click to download
1601.01 18 JAN 2005 All in all, though, a good trip. Although I didn't get to try Marseille's boullobaise (which, at the time, seemed a little too touristy to do), I didn't travel outside of Marseille as much as I would have liked to (like to the Cocteau museum in Menton or the photo museum), I didn't get as much writing done as I'd have hoped, and my photos didn't take off creatively as quickly as I'd hoped, and I didn't spend as much time in Italy as I'd hoped (in retrospect), I did get to see the smiling gelati guy, which was a great way to start off the trip, I drank a ton of great coffee, discovered a new red wine, enjoyed a lot of great ~other~ red wines, began learning a new language, was able to practice Italian again for a little bit, and I discovered that Marseille is a really good place for me creatively. I've got some incredible ideas percolating just under the surface. The beginnings of some new creative directions that feel very real to me. Most importantly, though, I managed to meet some incredible people and make some new friends overseas. I had the opportunity to demonstrate firsthand that Americans are more than GW's foreign policy and "freedom fries". And building those bridges is most important.