The Week To Come, the Weekend that was...

My friend since the 3rd grade, Nick Andriano, is coming into Paris from Granada tomorrow. Hopefully this will finally provide the impetus for me to head out and do some legitimate sight-seeing. When you live full time in a city, you just really don't get around to seeing things. That, my friends, is what we call "as shame." So I will hopefully be going to Arc de Triumph, Hotel de Invalides, and maybe Notre Dame again.

I went on a long run (13.2 miles) out of Paris into the eastern park. It was quite a remarkable run. For the first time in a long time I felt at peace with my self just moving at a comfortable glide through the forests. And to some extent, I think that's the experience I'm having this entire trip. I'm at peace with myself a little more, and I feel like a ghost, just observing the world as I pass through it with absolute wonder. The sky remains the same, but here on earth where we simply look out and observe there is a unique shape and movement to things.

The other day I spent four hours talking to my conversation leader (who is a local paid by the University to show us French culture) outside of a French bar. The cobbled stone streets and neatly packed apartments peppered with churches and monuments really screamed the post-card Paris I never realized actually existed. Sipping on wine and just talking about how different our countries were- it was an amazingly human experience. We all call wildly different places home and yet we can all communicate in a remarkably easy fashion once we take the time to lower the barriers that have been put up before us.

And now some pictures from Bacharach and Frankfurt. Don't worry, Kate and I are making a larger photo albumn soon. This is just a preview

Das Rathaus- the Town hall in Frankfurt

 

Sankt Barthalome Dom- One of the old cathedrals in Frankfurt. It was pretty imposing.

 

The Rhine and Me. This is the view we got after climbing that pseudo-mountain I described earlier.

Stay tuned for pictures from Paris and a link to a real photo gallery

For further perspectives, visit my girlfriend's blog Here.

Love- Always,

Nick

Dear Family

I'm still weighed by sad memories from time to time, which is not helped by the generally gray nature of this city.

As soon as I touched down, I had to hit the ground running on homework- and I probably wont be caught up until next week. But still I am driven to carry on all that Grandma gave me and bring into new areas. This is something I feel we are all capable of doing. We each carry a part of her, and we all bring that part to new and exciting avenues of experience.

And I feel grandma most profoundly when I go to fill in my running log- which she crafted from leather for last Christmas. I don't know why, but every time I open it, I feel a little warmer inside. It perhaps is tied to the fact that I feel as though my family has been found anew. So I hope that you all find what I write here as a reflection of what is possible through this love for grandma.

I have nothing new in terms of sites or photographs. Instead I am plunging myself into my work, reading and thinking about the wide breadth of history. I will make a more elaborate post later this week.

Love.

Return to Paris

Just as a brief note, I have made it back to Paris safe and sound. It has been an emotional week, and I know that there is more for me to face and understand in the weeks and months ahead, but for now I'm here in Paris. I'll make a real post tomorrow.

Versailles and other Mysteries

Versailles was an unreal experience. The palace was of course opulent in every sense of the word, and its weight on history was so great it was even difficult for me to fully get my head around it. Gold and paintings adorned every corner of the palace and the expanse of it was just breath-taking. By the end, however, it was a bit much to handle. The sheer volume of decorative noise was too much for me. Its one of those places that was incredible to see, but its not something I'd readily come back to very soon.

Paris, as a whole, has been very enjoyable and we're starting to get very comfortable here. The cost of things are pretty high, but we're starting to cook for ourselves more and find the cheapest possible options to various essentials (you know... like coffee). The winter has begun to fade into a little warm period, but so has the rain arrived.

I've gotten use to running here, but I've run into a few set backs here and there. I'm sure I can get past them and really hit the miles soon.

My civilization class is really enjoyable, and its making me wish I could have been a history major- but I could just take a bunch of history classes when I get back to Chicago. Sometimes its impossible to remember that in this modern city there is an ancient history. And what is beginning to capture my imagination is the notion that Paris, just over 200 years ago, was subject to the fire of revolution. Its everywhere in absence- royal trinkets missing because they were consumed by the revolting people.  Palaces here are largely empty as a result of this passionate movement in history. The charred remains are here under the flooding present.

Once I upload pictures from our travels, I'll link them here.

-Nick

In These Old Homes

France is littered with old homes. Palaces and little towns that have been asleep for centuries.

We took a morning bus from the city out towards the country side where royalty use to hold their courts. The palaces were, of course, breath taking. Halls stood empty but the air was regal and ancient, and staircases linked these little heavens one floor to the next. Yes, this was the obvious splendor, however. It is easy to look to these elaborate Chateaus and be caught in their wonder. But what really struck me was the subtle joys of the country-side.

Old walls made of stone would run along a field weighed down by the sky. Snow laid broken by the remnants of crops from the year before and trees were etched out in frosted lines. The houses all reminded me of stories mothers tell their children- maybe even dreams and secrets. Streets run along quite stretches of the world and suddenly give way to forests and churches.

Churches. I had never really thought about them in a truly religious way. For me, the church represented a very profound error. It is, perhaps as Rebelais pointed out, a sign of turning towards the earthly and corruption rather than pursuing the divine. But I see these churches, and I have to be reminded of a profound faith. For centuries, people in europe where under the weight of this monolith of faith- the church. And yet, they truly believed this faith- they sought salvation and a reason to hope. Maybe they were missing the point- for what we have here was given to us, and it is to be enjoyed by us. But all the same, there are these symbols of faith all over Europe, and they just strike me as amazingly dense in their meaning.

So we wondered where the royals sat- we saw their splendor and that which was hidden. All over this world, i see these small corners of beauty. Cracked brickwalls from years ago now running behind someone's home, a field plowed by forefathers long forgotten now standing fallow, and forests that have only grown. Our history only grows. I need to remember that.

A Run in Paris

I went running this morning in Paris. The air was biting and the sunshine warmed nothing. It only illuminated things to come in a very gentle way. I made passes through trees and parks, under the shadow of Mansions and in the wide open light of streets facing to the east. What was amazing was that for as much energy as I was expressing, the city was throwing twice as much back at me. Businessmen and woman hurried off with important things under their arms. Cups of coffee sat empty on café tables next to withered cigarettes, abandoned for the office today.

Living and thinking in Paris is unique because Kate and I seem to share our own secret world. Even on trains, next to people who clearly speak english, we move undetected through our words. I feel renewed in my pursuit of a life philosophy.

That is perhaps what I'm learning most from this trip. I am here in pursuit of a philosophy for how I am to live my life. In the states, I pursued a material comfort in routines and in familiarity. But here, where those things have not been found, I am thrown to my mind and my own observation. I am beginning to find my way in this world, and how I fit in it. Yes, there is still a material beauty in this experience- cafés and parks, the Eifel tower (which just struck me with a stereotypical Parisian beauty)- but I'm really starting to develop something immaterial.

I went on a run in Paris. Passed by lives and beauty all the while, I was progressing. I am still upon that run.

This Brand New Paris Air a Thousand Years Old

We have finally arrived in Paris, and how sweet it is. We had woken up at the forbidden hours of morning to catch a train from Frankfurt to Paris. Oddly, I find something appealing in the early morning flight from place to place- and I always have. Early morning airports and train stations always seem to be filled with a very sweet, yet hurried air. We drank coffee and sped away from Frankfurt am Main. Später Deutschland, ich komme zurück!

On the train ride I got into a two hour discussion with a woman who worked in a tri-national firm. She was actually on her way to an English seminar in Paris and had some heavily dated guide books. We discussed life in our respective countries (in German, of course) and the train ride passed along. After being in Germany, I know that I want to perfect my speaking and reading in the language and experience it again and again. Something about Germany just feels.... comfortable.

So the train raced the fun, and it seemed that dawn finally broke somewhere in the French countryside near a town which was quite clearly German at one point (the -burg suffix was replaced by -bourg). And the rolling hills were bathed in mist (the woman next to me asked for the English word, I asked her for the German).

Rolling hills gave way to graffiti and train yards. Trees became buildings, and the distinctly urban nature of Paris was apparent. We forced our way to our temporary home on the southern border of France and unloaded our suitcases. Home has been found for now.

Paris is truly amazing. The ancient and new seem to blend into one another in an incredible energy. Where parents walk their children through scenic parks in one spot, basilicas of the pre-revolution stand guard in another, and old factories have become universities in others. It truly is an amazing place, like New York City with a thousand years more history. Of course, I'm a stranger here with no mark of familiarity. But that's pretty exciting. I've become the observer here, untethered by words or common ideas. I'm watching this city, catching it in this winter moment and allowing it to become cleaer to me now. As the months go on, I know much will become apparent to me- and much more will require a second, third, and fourth look.

If you want to know exactly what we did today, again go visit Kate's blog.

Until I write Again,
Nick

Live From Frankfurt!

Guten Tag!

I decided to start writing a blog in an effort to document my travels both for myself, and for those of you back in the states. It will ensure that you all get to read about the things you may one day do, as well as ensure that you know I'm still alive.

Kate and I arrived in Frankfurt am Main on Monday after an epic travel that involved a missed plane and a harrowing drive for kate, and a sleepless day and a half for me. All in all, we were glad to get to where we were going. Jet lag's a bitch.

Germany is an amazing place. I've gradually become more confident in my speaking (even surprising several locals along the way) and have really begun to get into the culture here. It's not really a describable feeling, but the way of life here has struck me in a profound way. Frankfurt has given me this sense of a "one-world" way of life that comes in unique shades all the while.

We also took a train ride out to Bacharach, which is a sleepy little Rhine valley town. Kate and I walked through this medieval snapshot and then climbed up a steep slope to a castle overlooking the valley. It was a really amazing view- and everything was suspended there.

The little strings of light along the Rhine gave a frame for the mists that were drifting into the early evening twilight. It was utterly silent and perfect. The water moved in a determined waltz down to place I've never seen. And the ancient stone that surrounded us joined in the thrum. It was- perfect.

New Years was yet another wonderful experience, which you can read about on Kate's blog. I had some of the most amazing beer of my life, and we watched the fireworks on the Main.

It's off to Paris in the morning (not the normal person morning- but the retarded, butt-crack-of-dawn morning that you only read about) and classes.

I hope that you all enjoyed your New Years, and for those of you back at U of C- Good luck with the track season!

Tschuß!
Nick