Alors! We have arrived in Paris, jet lagged and woggy but filled with excitement. The hotel surpassed my expectations, with slick modern furniture and fluffy down blankets. I feel spoiled, especially since I was coming off of spending five days on a cot in a Barcelona hostel in a room shared with fifteen other (incredibly loud) people. We have the night to settle in and get our bearings in this new, strange, beautiful place, so after unpacking my bags and admiring the open balcony - gasp! - I decide to spend the evening like any other Parisian.... taking a long walk and having a delicious, if overpriced, meal. Besides, I'm ravenous from my flight.
The neighborhood is somehow both what I expected of Paris and a complete surprise. The buildings look like they jumped out of a postcard and onto the street, with flower-lined balconies and black roofs, and if I look far enough South I can make up the Bastille roundabout and the tree-lined canal below. But it's eerily quiet. We would learn, later on in class this morning, that Paris may actually be the quietest metropolis in the world. No one honks, engines are quiet, traffic rushes by in a swell of soft white noise. Even at the most packed restaurants you never have to raise your voice, everyone seems to be whispering to their friends between puffs on their cigarettes. It's almost disarming, as a loud American coming off of a Spanish high of late nights and lost voices.
The French-Italian fusion lasagna I had that night was the best meal I had in Paris, and to this day I still curse myself for forgetting what meandering footpath I took to find the restaurant. Food would become an endless struggle for me in Paris, with my picky vegetarian diet and already stretched-thin wallet. It seems to me that, in France, there are really only two types of meals: a three-hour, thirty-euro sit down which is delicious but somewhat tedious, or a baguette out of a vending machine in the metro line station. Most of us are trying to ride the in-between of that and shop at local supermarkets, hoping to save some money and also eat a food group other than "croissant."
But - enough about food! The classes so far are good. Interesting even. Professor Freixes is very talented at making things as mind-numbingly boring as tax credits (sorry accounting minors) seem relatable, and he always begins each class with some tips, tricks, and translations for getting by in France. Useful things, like "Where is the toilet?" and "Can I get beer with that?" The usual. He is accompanied always by his trusty sidekick, our TA Matt. Despite having just taken the bar exam and graduating with his MBA/JD, Matt can somehow keep up both with Gonzalo's witty banter and our class' sarcastic teasing. It's a good group this year.
Unfortunately, I've spent the first four days of this time in Paris pitifully sick, so I wasn't able to accompany the class on their first outing. They walked around Les Invalides and onwards to the Rodin museum to see some of the artist's best works. Although I was sad I couldn't go, I did get to keep some of the photos they took of the professor reenacting one of the artist's most famous statues....
The neighborhood is somehow both what I expected of Paris and a complete surprise. The buildings look like they jumped out of a postcard and onto the street, with flower-lined balconies and black roofs, and if I look far enough South I can make up the Bastille roundabout and the tree-lined canal below. But it's eerily quiet. We would learn, later on in class this morning, that Paris may actually be the quietest metropolis in the world. No one honks, engines are quiet, traffic rushes by in a swell of soft white noise. Even at the most packed restaurants you never have to raise your voice, everyone seems to be whispering to their friends between puffs on their cigarettes. It's almost disarming, as a loud American coming off of a Spanish high of late nights and lost voices.
The French-Italian fusion lasagna I had that night was the best meal I had in Paris, and to this day I still curse myself for forgetting what meandering footpath I took to find the restaurant. Food would become an endless struggle for me in Paris, with my picky vegetarian diet and already stretched-thin wallet. It seems to me that, in France, there are really only two types of meals: a three-hour, thirty-euro sit down which is delicious but somewhat tedious, or a baguette out of a vending machine in the metro line station. Most of us are trying to ride the in-between of that and shop at local supermarkets, hoping to save some money and also eat a food group other than "croissant."
But - enough about food! The classes so far are good. Interesting even. Professor Freixes is very talented at making things as mind-numbingly boring as tax credits (sorry accounting minors) seem relatable, and he always begins each class with some tips, tricks, and translations for getting by in France. Useful things, like "Where is the toilet?" and "Can I get beer with that?" The usual. He is accompanied always by his trusty sidekick, our TA Matt. Despite having just taken the bar exam and graduating with his MBA/JD, Matt can somehow keep up both with Gonzalo's witty banter and our class' sarcastic teasing. It's a good group this year.
Unfortunately, I've spent the first four days of this time in Paris pitifully sick, so I wasn't able to accompany the class on their first outing. They walked around Les Invalides and onwards to the Rodin museum to see some of the artist's best works. Although I was sad I couldn't go, I did get to keep some of the photos they took of the professor reenacting one of the artist's most famous statues....