Adventures in Venice, England and Aix

Oh la la, where to begin. First of all, sorry it’s been so long since my last post. I’ve been so busy — always another place to explore! So, I’ll try to make this like my last blog post and give a recap of all the fun and exciting things I’ve been up to. 

I started my winter break by taking an overnight bus to Venice. It was 8 + hours on a charter bus that had next to no leg room, and that was with the seats upright. Needless to say, my legs occupied the aisle for the majority of the trip. Our hotel was outside of Venice, so we had to take the vaporetto, or water taxi, into Venice itself. On the first day the second we stepped off the vaporetto it started raining. Of course I forgot to pack my umbrella, so my first purchase in Italy was a lovely plaid umbrella that’s in almost all of my photos. As luck would have it, I also forgot my newly purchase umbrella in the hotel when we left Venice two days later. It rained for the majority of that first day, and that night before we left to go back to our hotel it starting storming — lightning, thunder and a bit of hail even. By the time we returned to our hotel we were all cold and soaking wet and wondering why we chose to go to Venice in the first place. 

Exhibit A: Plaid Umbrella

Exhibit B: Focused in on my umbrella in the corner with a fuzzy St. Mark's Basilica in the background

The next day it rained a bit in the morning but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the day before. We also got to a less touristy part of the city which was cool to explore. Also, the cheap, delicious pizza and gelato was an instant plus in my book. Also, since it was Carnival, we all bought masks to wear, which was a lot of fun. 

All of us with our masks!

It might be rainy, but I'm a happy girl with my brioche-gelato sandwich. 

Our final day in Venice was absolutely beautiful. It was sunny, I had more gelato, and I took a gondola ride, which was really cool. I mean, I couldn’t go all the way to Venice and then say I never rode in a gondola, right? Did you know that, according to our gondolier (and Wikipedia) the city of Venice is made up of 118 islands? I definitely believe that, because we would be walking down a street and then all of a sudden we would realize it dead-ended at a canal, so we’d have to turn around and find a bridge to cross. Apart from the never-ending rain from the first day, I had a great time in Venice. It also made me realize how much French I know (and how little Italian…) because I kept trying to use French when communicating. 

Me on the gondola ride!

Monday evening, March 3rd we got back on the bus. They played the movie Hancock— let me tell ya, Will Smith sounds weird as a French guy — and then, just as we were all wanting to go to sleep, or at least try, the lady in charge of the the tour group decided to play what I’ve decided is the strangest French movie ever called Brice. We returned to Aix early Tuesday morning, I made my way home from the bus station, and proceeded to nap for about five hours. Then I had to repack my bag for England. 

Getting from Aix to England — Canterbury to be specific — was a mess. I missed the shuttle I was planning on taking to the airport by just a few minutes, but luckily they come every half hour. Once at the airport, it took forever for everyone to board, so my flight left late — typical of Ryanair, I’ve since learned. Then, the plane started to descend for landing and all of a sudden it felt like we were going back up in elevation. Needless to say, that freaked me out. A few minutes later, the pilot came over the PA system and mumbled something about there being an issue with the runway and they had to inspect it, so we had been circling and waiting for the all clear from air traffic control. Once we were given the ok to land, it was the hardest landing I’d ever experienced. I’m pretty sure I heard everyone on board gasp as we slammed into the runway. Kudos, Ryanair. 

The flight delays put me behind schedule and I had to run to the train station to buy my tickets— after waiting in the ridiculously slow non-European Union passport line. Thankfully, the immigration officer who checked my passport and landing card was nice and gave me perfect directions to the train station. Having looked at my watch a billion times while I was waiting in line, I knew I had 10-15 minutes to make my train, which was the last train to Canterbury that evening, or else I would have to wait until the next day. He told me it was about a five minute walk to the train station, so I did that awkward half run/ half walk thing. 

I made it to the ticket booth and asked the man if I could buy tickets there. In an ever-so-British fashion he replied, “Well, the ticket booth would be a good place to start…” as he looked over his shoulder to the wall behind him that said TICKETS in large, red letters. Right. So I bought my ticket, which consisted of three transfers. Train to underground to train to bus, with an ETA in Canterbury at 1:50 am. The man behind the ticket booth asked if that was alright. Yes, perfect, I said. 

After clumsily paying for my ticket (it was my first time paying in person using my fancy new credit card with the chip in it, not the magnetic strip that you slide… I couldn’t figure out how to put it in the card reader machine. The man kept telling me to flatten my card out and I kept looking at it and thinking What does he mean? It’s not bent at all? When in reality he meant I needed to put my card parallel to the machine. Life is hard sometimes) I ran down to my platform where my train was already waiting. Just a couple minutes later, the doors shut and the train was off. 

I miraculously made all of my connections and felt like the winner of the Amazing Race (minus the wonderful cash prize…) when I made it to Canterbury. Along my way, in each of the various train stations I was in, I asked anybody I could find for directions. One man behind an information desk sassily informed me that I was looking for St. Pancras, not Pancreas which is something completely different (if you’re keeping count, that’s two sarcastic British responses within about 45 minutes). But after his snippy comment he helped me out and gave me good directions. Honestly, throughout my entire time in England I was surprised by and thankful for how helpful and polite everyone was. 

So I made it to Canterbury right around 2 am and my friend Katniss who I worked with at Camp Oakledge came and picked me up. She was kind enough to let me stay at her house, feed me and entertain me while I was in England, which I am so incredibly grateful for. 

A picture of Katniss from camp representing her British pride when Prince George was born

Wednesday and Thursday I hung around Canterbury and saw the sights there, like the Canterbury Cathedral, and walked around the pretty downtown area. Friday I went into London and met my friend Kate who is also at IAU this semester at the British Museum. After looking around there for a while, we got on a train to Leavesden to go to the Harry Potter studio tour. 

Canterbury Cathedral

Inside of the Canterbury Cathedral

Inside of the Canterbury Cathedral

Canterbury Castle

St. Augustine's Abbey

The Rosetta Stone

Some of the sculptures from the Parthenon, AKA the Elgin Marbles

The tour was really cool— a Harry Potter nerd like me’s dream come true. We got to walk around the Great Hall, look at different sets, costumes, props, hear and read secrets behind the movie magic, drink butterbeer, and we even met an extra from the films. 

Hanging in the Great Hall

About to go see Dumbledore! 

Casual selfie in the Mirror of Erised

Having a mug of butterbeer with Kate!

Catching the Knight Bus

About to buy ourselves some quality quidditch gear at Diagon Alley

Visiting the Hogwarts Castle, no big deal

Saturday Katniss and I went back to London where we met another friend from camp, Kiesh. We saw the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace (or at least as much as we could see with the giant crowds…) and then walked all over the city seeing Big Ben, Parliament, the Tower Bridge, Camden Market, Covent Garden, Leicester Square, and on and on. Thanks to Keish I have some prime photos from all of these prime photo opportunities. That evening when Katniss and I got back to Canterbury, we went out with her housemates to a pub before I had to leave the next day. 

The changing of the guards

The man behind Katniss and I is just about to yell at us to keep moving

Keish and I in front of Westminster Abbey

Look kids, Big Ben, Parliament!

Obligatory phonebooth pic

I absolutely loved visiting England and being able to see some familiar faces, and as I already said Katniss was a wonderful hostess. I definitely plan on going back to England. Not this semester, but soon, hopefully. Aside from the chaotic time I had getting from the airport to Canterbury, there was no downside to my time there— other than the dollar to pound conversion rate… eek.

So I returned to Aix Sunday, March 9th. It was a strange feeling, because it was like I was returning home in a way. Returning to my temporary home (don’t worry Mom and Dad). 

The following weekend I was able to see another familiar face as Clara, a friend from Truman who’s an English teaching assistant in Andorra this year, came to visit me in Aix. Clara went to IAU summer of 2011, so it was a sort of homecoming for her as well. 

Happy to be reunited

Clara was thrilled to get to eat doner kebab again!

It was absolutely beautiful weather that weekend and we spent a lot of time outdoors. On Friday we went to an area that Paul Cézanne used to paint Mount St Victoire from. The spot was beautiful and it was a sunny, clear day so we were able to easily see Cézanne’s muse in the distance. 

Taken from the spot where Cézanne would paint Mt. St. Victoire

After a late morning from hitting the Aix nightlife the night before, we went to the different markets on Saturday morning. I’m lucky because Aix has so many open air markets. There’s a food market and a flower market that run everyday (except maybe Sundays? I’m not positive on that…) and then we met a friend of Clara’s who also went to IAU in 2011 and got some gelato on Cours Mirabeau, the main street in Aix. Later, we went to Cézanne’s atelier, or studio where he painted his still lifes. (lives? What’s the plural of still life?) 

Clara and Becca enjoying some delicious gelato

On Sunday, to round out our Cézanne-themed weekend, we went to Mount Sainte Victorie with plans to make it to the summit. As I said in my last blog post, I had already climbed most of the mountain a few weeks before, but didn’t make it to the top because we were worried we would miss our bus back to Aix. So, this time, Clara and I were determined to make it all the way to the Croix de Provence at the top. 

On our way to the summit

After a long, sweaty couple of hours, we were finally victorious in conquering St. Victoire (see what I did there?) After we made it to the bottom and consulting the map posted, we discovered we hiked approximately 14 kilometers which is about 8.7 miles. Wowzers. If I remember correctly, it took us about three hours to go up and two hours to descend, with lots of breaks and time to eat our lunch outside of the church near the summit. 

Outside the church near the top

Almost there!

Feeling like we're on top of the world at the top of Mount St. Victoire

This guy was tight-rope walking just near the summit!

Clara and I were both in need of more water with our lunch and we assumed (incorrectly) there would be a sink or water fountain around the church. There was not — France in general isn’t a fan of water fountains or public restrooms — but there was a large cistern that two separate people showed us and said we could use. One man told us it collected rain water so it was fine to drink. We stood there debating if we should drink it or not since there was a sign that said “eau non potable” (non-potable water) but our thirst outweighed our better judgement and we refilled our water bottles. Thankfully, everything with the water turned out to be fine and we began our descent happily hydrated. 

The round, low stone structure is the cistern that we got our questionable, but safe water from

On the way down we realized we would miss the 4:30 bus we were trying to make and, since it was Sunday, we would have to wait around until the 6:30 bus. We got to the stop — which is really just a sign on the side of the road — around 5 or 5:30 and began to wait. Another couple who had been hiking St. Victoire showed up and waited with us. Clara and I had plans to go to her old host family’s house for dinner that evening. The 6:30 bus would make us late- not to mention we were pretty gross from climbing the mountain. Clara called her former host and apologized that we would be both late and smelly. A few minutes later, as we were waiting, a lady pulled her small French car over and asked if we were heading to Aix. The four of us were absolutely thrilled that she was kind enough to stop to pick us up. So again, against my better judgement, Clara and I and the older couple from Montreal all piled in the French woman’s car. 

We profusely thanked our kind stranger as she dropped us off. Because of her we had enough time to change out of our sweaty hiking gear before heading over to Clara’s former hosts. It was so kind of them to also extend the invitation to me for dinner and it was really cool to be able to eat dinner with another French family. We ate raclettes, which is a delicious cheese you put in a fancy raclette machine that melts it, then you put the melty, stringy cheese over baked potatoes and eat it with charcuterie. Delicious. 

The following weekend I went to Lyon and the Luberon valley, followed by going back to Marseille and to Avignon this past weekend, but as this post is already super long (sorry!), I’ll save those two weekends for my next post!

Bisous!