It's convenient when the notes you take for class can easily be used to tell your friends what's happening.
La Grotte de Lombrives 17/05/2010
The quote that I believe the Grotte de Lombrives tour guide recited to me:
Là dans les flanc creusés d'un rocher qui sur plombe,
s'ouvre une gortte obscure, un nid où la colombe
Aime à gémir d'amour
-Alphonse de LAMARTINE
Or maybe that wasn't it. Or maybe I can't read it as powerfully as a frenchman in a 60 million year old cave can speak it.
I had a personal hour & a half tour of la Grotte de Lombrives today. After walking about 3km to get there I'm glad the guy decided to do the tour anyway when no one else showed up. Turns out the guy likes 19th century French literature, too--pretty knowledgeable too. his eyes lit up in excited agreement when he affirmed that a lot of 19th century writers had cave, gulf, abîme imagery. And, he told me, it was the 19th century when all the shit in the cave was named.
The room they call The Cathedral and which has as much volume as the Notre Dame de Paris is massive! It was just me and the tour guide in this giant room. Before we entered he asked if I was afraid of the dark before turning off all the lights for about 10 seconds, them illuminating the whole room. It was just me and him after having climbed to about halfway to the summit and he said something along the lines of make any noise you want since the echo was so magnificent. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't disrespect the silence. There are violin concerts in the cave a few times a year, which I imagine are amazing, but I couldn't disrespect the silence of this giant room. On the return trip we both stood at the gate that closes off the Cathedral and listened in silence to la chant de la grotte. "C'est râre," he said, "d'avoir ce moment." During the summer there are groups of up to 60.
In the end he gave me a free ride down the mountain on the trolley. Good day.
La Grotte de la Vache 18/05/2010
[Translated from the French]
I had wanted to rent a bike to go to the caves (la Grotte de la Vache and la Grotte de Niaux) but today and tomorrow are the only two days that the store is closed. So, I walked very quickly in the sun with my hiking boots, suspenders and white t-shirt--feeling like a mountain man-traveler type, if not for lack of beard--but nevertheless I was late. When I got there it was only the woman who was the guide and second in charge. I explained to her my situation and she gave me a short but extraordinary private visit of la Grotte de la Vache and then she drive me down the mountain and up the 1km road to the Grotta de Niaux just facing us for the visit at 4:15. She was really cool. And when I was walking back to the hotel later that evening, she saw me while driving in the other direction and stopped to say hi again. A bit later, I stuck out the ol' thumb and an old man in a BMW SUV (weird for France) picked me up and drove me back to town.
I'll spare you my notes from the cave visit.
La Grotte de Niaux 18/05/2010
«Tout homme crée sans le savoir comme il respire. Mais l'artiste se sent créer, son acte engage tout son être. » --Paul Valéry (on an information sign before the entrance of the cave).
On the 1.5km long road which leads down from the Grotte de Niaux, overlooking the valley where lies the village of Niaux and just next to it, Alliat:
I've rarely felt more alone in my life. Not necessarily lonely, but maybe. It wasn't exactly a bad feeling, just lonely. I felt so small like never before, or rather so insignificant, en face de tout ce que j'ai vu aujourd'hui, tout ce que j'ai appris des hommes magdéleneans, et ces montagnes, ces grandes montagnes.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
I've not really kept this up/Snapshots: Paris and Vagabondage Pt. 1
So it's been more than a month since I've updated this thing. Oops.
It was really hard to write in Paris. During my Vagabondage, it was easier. But then I lost my notebook.
Here are some random snapshots of what I've been up to:
On the Panthéon 19/04/2010
In 2000 years human beings or aliens will find the autel républican in the ruins of the Panthéon in an abandoned Paris, and will have forgotten the French language. A woman will uncover the Rosetta stone of what will become a resurgence in interest for old European languages and these beings of the future will read the block letters engraved on the autel, VIVRE LIBRE OU MOURIR. They will look into the decomposed and cracked and blank eyes of Marianne and they will see the unyielding gaze of a goddess holding a broad sword, a powerfully serious visage in the midst of ruins and they will ask themselves in reverence who the people were who worshiped at this alter of stone, and freedom.
Reflections on Paris 19/05/2010 (Afterthought)
Even though I think I was in Rennes for a longer period of time, Paris felt longer. We just did so much. Each day was filled with so many thorough and worthy things. Sometimes, it was two museums a day, and nearly all of it related to our class. I felt like there was never time to write, let alone space in that tiny apartment. Everyday from at least 10 to 5 was two museums, a park and a museum, a museum and class at the FIAP. It was just so much that when I got home at the end of the day there was nothing I could do but try to relax--not to mention that all the roommates were always home after our shit was done for the day and on most days someone from the class would show up at our apartment, because of its awesome central location, bird-calling up to our large open window, or others having come there so often that they knew the building code. I mean hell, I went running one time. Running shoes took up valuable suitcase space and I only went running ONCE. It also didn't help that we didn't have hot water for most of the time in the apartment, so the thought of coming home from a run to a freezing shower wasn't very appealing.
First day of my Vagabondage outside of Paris 15/05/2010
So this was the most interesting day in France so far! First of all I couldn't take my original train to Padirac at 8:55am this morning because I didn't have a seat reservation--for some reason I was thinking that it's not that far and I wouldn't need one for such a small train BUTTT what I didn't think of was that, duh, where I was getting off is not the terminus of the train and it was going all the way to Toulouse, i.e. it's a high speed train. So, after a moment of panic I just put up 60 euros to buy a regular ticket for the 2pm train that also had no more Rail Europe seat reservations. So, okay, I had to wait around in Paris for another 3 hours and buck up 8 euro for internet and another 7 to store my bags in a locker, but whatever, I chilled at the Jardin des Plantes for a few hours. About half way thru my train ride I get a call from the guy at the hotel in Padirac (whom I had called earlier to make later my arrival) saying he's made an error with my reservation and asking if it's cool if I stay somewhere else at a friend's place, just as nice blah blah. Cool. All is good, I make my transfer in Brive and end up missing my stop to get off at Padirac becuase the train stopped there for approximately 20 seconds and before I could get my bags together it left again. But whatever, I didn't have to show my rail pass, so now I have an extra day on it. So, I get off at the next station which is luckily like 10 minutes later and have no idea how to get to the hotel. I make a sort of ass of myself calling and asking the hotel if they knew of a taxi service, cause my now the desk at the "train station" (small building near some train tracks) is closed.
Monday 17 May (transcribed from old notebook)
Today, I lost my notebook. Or rather, last night, I think, at sometime between 11:50pm and 12:10am, I lost my notebook. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I was getting off the SNCF bus at the Tarascon-Sur-Ariège train station (I had it in my pocket for sure when I was putting on my coat) or when I was wandering the streets of this small Pyrénéean village, toting all my (too much) baggage--stunningly oblivious to the steep, rocky mountain peaks looming in the darkness on all sides of me--looking for my hotel. C'est pas complètement grave because it's only 2 weeks old--I can remember fairly well most of the important things: the cryptes of Notre Dame, the Munch exhibit (this will be harder, I wrote some complicated shit on it), not to mention my notes from the day before at le Gouffre de Padirac.
I spent most of my morning and early afternoon here practicing my best French phone call skills, talking to the woman who owns the hotel, the people at the SNCF station (twice), the SNCF lost and found office, what I think is the bus depot and the town mayor's office; as well as my best observational skills while retracing my steps from the night before and looking under every parked car and in every garbage can along the way!
The ironic part is that I held the thing so close yesterday, all day. It had my train itinerary for the day, my ramblings about the Gouffre--hell, it traveled with me into the earth on an underground river.
Wish me luck, someone.
It was really hard to write in Paris. During my Vagabondage, it was easier. But then I lost my notebook.
Here are some random snapshots of what I've been up to:
On the Panthéon 19/04/2010
In 2000 years human beings or aliens will find the autel républican in the ruins of the Panthéon in an abandoned Paris, and will have forgotten the French language. A woman will uncover the Rosetta stone of what will become a resurgence in interest for old European languages and these beings of the future will read the block letters engraved on the autel, VIVRE LIBRE OU MOURIR. They will look into the decomposed and cracked and blank eyes of Marianne and they will see the unyielding gaze of a goddess holding a broad sword, a powerfully serious visage in the midst of ruins and they will ask themselves in reverence who the people were who worshiped at this alter of stone, and freedom.
Reflections on Paris 19/05/2010 (Afterthought)
Even though I think I was in Rennes for a longer period of time, Paris felt longer. We just did so much. Each day was filled with so many thorough and worthy things. Sometimes, it was two museums a day, and nearly all of it related to our class. I felt like there was never time to write, let alone space in that tiny apartment. Everyday from at least 10 to 5 was two museums, a park and a museum, a museum and class at the FIAP. It was just so much that when I got home at the end of the day there was nothing I could do but try to relax--not to mention that all the roommates were always home after our shit was done for the day and on most days someone from the class would show up at our apartment, because of its awesome central location, bird-calling up to our large open window, or others having come there so often that they knew the building code. I mean hell, I went running one time. Running shoes took up valuable suitcase space and I only went running ONCE. It also didn't help that we didn't have hot water for most of the time in the apartment, so the thought of coming home from a run to a freezing shower wasn't very appealing.
First day of my Vagabondage outside of Paris 15/05/2010
So this was the most interesting day in France so far! First of all I couldn't take my original train to Padirac at 8:55am this morning because I didn't have a seat reservation--for some reason I was thinking that it's not that far and I wouldn't need one for such a small train BUTTT what I didn't think of was that, duh, where I was getting off is not the terminus of the train and it was going all the way to Toulouse, i.e. it's a high speed train. So, after a moment of panic I just put up 60 euros to buy a regular ticket for the 2pm train that also had no more Rail Europe seat reservations. So, okay, I had to wait around in Paris for another 3 hours and buck up 8 euro for internet and another 7 to store my bags in a locker, but whatever, I chilled at the Jardin des Plantes for a few hours. About half way thru my train ride I get a call from the guy at the hotel in Padirac (whom I had called earlier to make later my arrival) saying he's made an error with my reservation and asking if it's cool if I stay somewhere else at a friend's place, just as nice blah blah. Cool. All is good, I make my transfer in Brive and end up missing my stop to get off at Padirac becuase the train stopped there for approximately 20 seconds and before I could get my bags together it left again. But whatever, I didn't have to show my rail pass, so now I have an extra day on it. So, I get off at the next station which is luckily like 10 minutes later and have no idea how to get to the hotel. I make a sort of ass of myself calling and asking the hotel if they knew of a taxi service, cause my now the desk at the "train station" (small building near some train tracks) is closed.
Monday 17 May (transcribed from old notebook)
Today, I lost my notebook. Or rather, last night, I think, at sometime between 11:50pm and 12:10am, I lost my notebook. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I was getting off the SNCF bus at the Tarascon-Sur-Ariège train station (I had it in my pocket for sure when I was putting on my coat) or when I was wandering the streets of this small Pyrénéean village, toting all my (too much) baggage--stunningly oblivious to the steep, rocky mountain peaks looming in the darkness on all sides of me--looking for my hotel. C'est pas complètement grave because it's only 2 weeks old--I can remember fairly well most of the important things: the cryptes of Notre Dame, the Munch exhibit (this will be harder, I wrote some complicated shit on it), not to mention my notes from the day before at le Gouffre de Padirac.
I spent most of my morning and early afternoon here practicing my best French phone call skills, talking to the woman who owns the hotel, the people at the SNCF station (twice), the SNCF lost and found office, what I think is the bus depot and the town mayor's office; as well as my best observational skills while retracing my steps from the night before and looking under every parked car and in every garbage can along the way!
The ironic part is that I held the thing so close yesterday, all day. It had my train itinerary for the day, my ramblings about the Gouffre--hell, it traveled with me into the earth on an underground river.
Wish me luck, someone.
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