February 22 — Warszawa, Polska

“Old Town”, Warszawa.

Clair,

Upon arrival in Warsaw (Warszawa), Poland we dropped our things off at the hotel and went for a craft beer, because they do not have that in Paris and why not. In this little niche bar, we spoke with an ex-pat who told us all the neat things to do, where to eat– a locals advice is always spot on, and so appreciated. But walking around Warszawa at night is, as we would say in Paris “hyper-cool”. Theres this funny juxtaposition of all the buildings in the skyline. Unfortunately (and brief history lesson), all of the buildings in Poland’s major cities are relatively new, due to the fact it was raised by Russian and German forces in WWII. Here in lies this melange of new and old. The skyline consists of soviet-era buildings and very modern, glassy building that have been built where buildings were not rebuilt.

The next day we decided to go on some of the free walking tours. The first was at 10:00am and was of the “Old Town.” Old town in quotes because it has all been rebuilt, but luckily it has all been rebuilt as an exact replica; this man had a nightmare that the whole city would be destroyed and painted all of the buildings in excruciating detail, armed with those paintings they rebuilt the two old town squares, the royal palace, and the churches. Surely that was a run-on sentence, excuse me. BUT SO we walked all around and it’s so beautiful and colorful. Every building has unique markings that help people to distinguish from one building to the next because supposedly the majority of the population was illiterate at the time. Also it is still very much Christmas in Warsaw (?).

After that walking tour, before it was over, rather, we ran to meet up for the “Alternative Warsaw Tour” which we thought was on the other side of the city, and upon arrival at that false meeting point realized, and ran back to the old town, missed the group and figured they could only have taken one bridge, so ran another mile across the bridge, following a pack of people that could’ve not been our group but luckily, IT WAS THEM. Everyone was staring at us when we joined them though because we were without jackets and sweating. So this tour was a tour of a part of the city called Praga, the old Jewish ghetto. This part of the city is widely known as being dangerous, seeing as it receives no money from the government and was never rebuilt after the war. This had to be one of my favorite parts of the whole trip. If you’ve never seen the movie The Pianist, I would have to 100% recommend it. The story is set in Praga and was filmed here as well. Its the story of a Jewish man who lived in Warszaw during WWII and eventually has to go to the Jewish Ghetto. Before the war many Jews lived in Praga, in total there were 400,000 Jews in all of Warsaw. This absolutely breaks my heart to even type out– today, in Warsaw, there are only 5,000 Jews. It was so interesting to go to Praga though because there is such a stark contrast to the rest of Warsaw there, the sidewalks aren’t clean, the buildings are crumbling and all made of brick, there are eastern bazars, playgrounds made of equipment stolen from playgrounds in Warsaw, and pock-marks on the majority of the buildings.
There’s also incredible street art that people have put there to try and shed happiness on a scarred community. There was a beach mural on a wall in an empty-brick-filled-lot and the guide said the children all come and play in the summer. Theres another where the artist asked people what they wanted and the kids said trees, and aliens, and a duck, and a bear. I guess I find romance in old broken things, but it was interesting to enter another little world with a sense of community and a very real desire to emulate a phoenix and rebuild. We left that tour a touch early and ran to another walking tour that was supposed to be of the old Jewish quarter but really wasn’t and ended up leaving that one early as well, but just because the guide wasn’t great

12 miles later we got zapekanki and it felt so gooooooood. Went back to the hotel and napped and then did pub-crawled through Warszawa which was equally as potent as the one in Kraków. The next day we got up and wandered around some more, took photos of things we hadn’t. We found what is left of the walls of the Jewish Ghetto. Had a very relaxed last day of vacation. Back to Paris in the morning! Love ya love ya.

BOOK YOUR TICKETS TO PARIS

MUCH LOVE

ELISE

PS. Shoe game is on fleek here in Poland? Please report back if this is the proper use of the word fleek as Americans are inventing strange words I do not know, while I am not there.

February 19, 2015– Auschwitz-Birkenau

“Work will set you free.” Main gate, Auschwitz.

There are absolutely no words. We all know about the heinous crimes that went on in this place. Being there I was shocked, that any human could create an industrial way to kill the masses. But before you go there you know what happened, you know the starvation, the sick experiments performed on numerous, defenseless people, the gas chambers, the cold. The cold, I was frozen after an hour outside– in tights, jeans, 3 pairs of socks, 2 shirts, a sweater, and my coat– while there was snow on the ground my guide was telling me this was the warmest winter he had ever experienced in his whole life, having grown up in Poland. These prisoners were barefoot and in striped pjs. What really struck me is how recent this all took place. We like to think we’re so developed and evolved– I do not have words. To go there and to touch the walls and grounds of a place where 1.1 MILLION people were killed was…. surreal. I am still speechless.

“For the survivor who chooses to testify, it is clear: his duty is to bear witness for the dead and for the living. He has no right to deprive future generations of a past that belongs to our collective memory. To forget would be not only dangerous but offensive; to forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time.” – Elie Wiesel, Night

Detail of prisoner’s numbers etched into a wall of a barrack, Birkenau

Inside a women’s barrack (men’s were made of wood and are no longer standing). On one level, of the three, would sleep 10 people, so thats 30 people per section. 800 people per barrack. Birkenau

Main entrance to Birkenau. The tracks brought victims into the camp, and immediately all belongings were taken from them, and they were separated into men, women, and children and elderly. The last two groups were immediately marched to gas chambers. Birkenau

Auschwitz

Entrance to Birkenau

Detail of gate at Birkenau

View from the camp’s 1st commander’s home of the electric fence around Auschwitz

February 20 — Kraków, Polska

Dzień Dobry!

Very first experience in Poland: We get into the Warszawa (Warsaw) Airport at 6pm, have a bus to catch at 7:30pm, take a train to Warszawa Central, and have to take the metro to find the bus station. The whole train car of locals has mapped out the best route for us to take to make it on time. Get off the train at 7:05pm and they tell us there is no way well make the bus, even if we take a cab. So very Amazing-Race-esquely we ran to the nearest open cab. Driver spoke noooo english, but hand gestures and speaking loudly, slowly, and repeating things frequently has proved to be a universal language. Our cab is speeeeeding through traffic we’re hitting all the green lights– until we hit a no left turn red-light, while looking at the bus stop. At this point it was 7:32 and we watched 3 buses pull out none of which said Kraków so there was hope. We pull into the bus station AS our bus is pulling out. THEN OUR CAB STOPPED HIS CAR IN FRONT OF THE BUS!!!1!!11!11!!1 And the bus driver let us on!!!! Polish people are AWESOME. Sidenote– got into Kraków at 1am and got Kebab and it was terrible.. Kebab in Poland is terrible.

But the next morning we got up and went on a free walking tour, which they do in Poland, and our guide was so lovely and really made the -4°C, 2.5 hour walking tour wonderful. And Poland has SO much history– not just WWII!!! They were taken by the sweeds, and the mongolians, and the macedonians. And Kraków existed before Poland did, like in the 8th century? But the city itself is so cute and old and colorful– blue building, yellow building, pink, green, pink, church, church, church, church, church. A church on every street, sometimes two.. for such a small city– I just wonder how any single one is filled? I gave Polish food a try too……. erm so went to this things called a milk bar (cheap dining, cantine-style that was sponsored by the government so that soldiers and homeless people could eat for next to nothing– and sometimes even get drugs put in their milk, hence milk bar). It was all in Polish– which may as well be chinese seeing as the only things i can say are hello, thank you, toilettes, and you have nice buttocks (which proved to help loads). But so pierogi is not good, nooooot good, and I somehow ordered potato pasta with mushroom sauce. Hmph

. 

That night we went on a walk around the old jewish quarter in Kraków, which once was home to 80,000 Jews before WWII and now has been reduced to around 600 Jews. But it is such a lovely part of town. Very quaint and romantically sleepy– yet bustling with hipstery cafés and the cool kids. We found loads of food trucks on our street-art search and had a very difficult time choosing what to have for dinner– ate many too many fries on my trip to Poland.

The next day we went to Auschwitz and in the evening returned and got some good Polish street food called a zapiekanki which is kinda like a pizza and a baguette had a baby– delicious none the less. Then went out on a pub crawl. Side note: loads of vodka in Poland and it. is. potent. I’ll leave it at that.

Gettin’ up goin’ to Warszawa!

Much love– missin’ ya!

Elise

Feb 16, 2015 – Provence

Les Calanques, Marseille.

HIYA

Okay. So a very important thing to know about France is that Paris– while magnificent– IS NOT THE ONLY PLACE IN FRANCE. I’ve been to France countless times (I am aware of just how lucky I am) and before living there, only visited thrice. The first time I was a baby, the second was a planned trip with little time to explore (CLAIR AND I WENT TOGETHER), and the last time everything was closed due to heavy snow–I ruined my uggs.

Quartier de Panier, Marseille.

Ma petite cousine! Marseille.

The south of France is my second home, so I am biased but I do think it is one of the most beautiful places in the world. And the people are very… original. Which I am entitled to say seeing as I am half of one. My father is from Marseille, my aunt and uncle and their children and grandchildren live there, my sweet sweet mémé lives in Orange, and then I have family in Lyon, Toulon, and Corsica. Whenever I have visited in the past I have stayed chez mémé in Orange– a beautiful little roman town with lavender air and olive shutters– but I always say I’m from Marseille (as the parisians cringe) because it’s the closest big city. HOWEVER, up until a three days ago I had never really visited Marseille aside from the airport and my aunt’s house.

Notre Dame de la Garde, Marseille.

View of Marseille from Notre Dame de la Garde

So Saturday morning I caught the metro to the train station for a train leaving at 7:37 headed to Marseille, I arrived in Marseille and on account of my poor planning my phone was dead, making finding my cousins “la galère”. But alas it’s always good to see family. With my cousin, her husband, and her kids we went to her husbands parents’ house for lunch. That’s really hard to follow but any who both all my family and my cousin’s husband’s family were there.  It’s really weird when you speak two languages and you realize you’re speaking one without thinking about it. My family says I speak like a Parisienne but the Parisians say I speak like a Marseillaise. Jjhcvvbbvvb I don’t fit in whatever. It’s hard to explain a marseille accent but in a book I read a man essentially said that when they breathed in the air it goes into their bodies and when they talk the air twists in their nasal cavities and just comes out the way it does. The word tire is pneu when we say it in Paris we say pneu in Marseille we say puhneua– even Marseille they say Marsaaayyyuhhh. Which is just generally how things are done in the south of France, slowly, leisurely, c’est la vie. The point of all of that was to say that lunch started at 2 and kind of didn’t end until 7:30/8:30, many glasses of wine later. Maybe that would be a good unit to measure time???

Les Calanques, Marseille.

Bateaux, Notre Dame de la Garde, Marseille.

Sunday my cousins took me around Marseille. So we Drove to Notre Dame de la Garde which is this church with a golden statue which you can see everywhere in Marseille. It has a beautiful 360° view of all of Marseille and Les Calanques. On the inside in the midst of tall gold-tiled domes there are loads of medals and paintings hung on the walls, and mariners have made models of their ships and hung them from the ceiling of the basilica in hopes that Mother Mary will protect them. Then we drove down the coast and through the old port. I had no idea how beautiful Marseille was. It’s the same kind of beauty that Barcelona has– kind of (for lack of better word) rundown but in a good way, dark brown stucco shells of old houses, clay brick red roofs, and (insert pastel color here) colored shutters. Got lunch at the old port and then ran around the center city. Visited the mucem, a new museum built 2 years ago when Marseille was the cultural capital of Europe.

Le Muceum, Le Major, Marseille.

Monday afternoon after another long lunch two of my cousins stole me and whisked me away to les Calanques, cliffs that run from Marseille to Cassis. As if going to the ocean isn’t enough fun in and of itself it was 15°C, so I actually got to go outside WITHOUT A COAT. I thought the day would never come. It was really really a beautiful weekend. So happy to have gotten to know a city I talk about so much a little better. I could’ve lived without the scare that was driving through Marseille. I mean I lived but man they are right when they say mediterranean  have fire in their blood.

I have to hurry back to Paris now to get to Poland in the morning!!!!

Bisous

February 8, 2015

Reflection of the Eiffel Tower on wet pavement.

HI!

This week was especially cold and gross. I went to Fontainebleau, France for a day and it was beautiful, more so than Versailles in my humble opinion. I thought we were going to go to the Fôret de Fontainebleau so I dressed like going for a walk through the woods, however, I was mistaken and we were in a castle. Fab. In other news —  IT SNOWED — and it was the wettest most disgusting snow but it was soooo beautiful. Paris looks like it came straight from a romantic 1950’s film that might be starring Audrey Hepburn. It didn’t stick. And then everything was just cold and wet. There have also been cold and sunny days and they kinda make it feel like spring is right around the corner. I finished my book A Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and it was incredible I absolutely recommend it. It’s so whimsical and surreal and just a fantastic read. I’ve started A Movable Feast by Ernest Hemingway, which is his account of living in Paris so it’s neat to read about places I know, except he is friends with Gertrude Stein, and unfortunately I am not. Anywho, booked tickets to POLAND for february holiday, so more to come on that — buuuuut here was my week in photos:

xoxo

Elise Grisoni

Château de Fontainebleau, Fontainebleau, France.

My swan friend, Edgar, Fountainebleau, France.

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Une ruette (an alley), 16th arrondissement, Paris.

Art installation à fondation EDF

Rainy daze.

Rue de Rivoli, Paris, France.

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Metro station Passy, line 6.

Metro station Passy, line 6.

Place du Trocadéro

January 29, 2015

View of the 15th arrondissement from my apartment window in the 16th arrondissement

Ma cherie,

*****So basic rundown of how Paris is set up: 20 arrondissements- number one is in the middle, then they spiral like a snail’s shell out and as they spiral out they get bigger. Most arrondissements or quartiers have their own unique thing, for lack of a better word. Examples: 2-Louvre, 5-Latin quarter, 6-St. Germain de Prés, 7-Eiffel tower, 13-Chinatown, 16-MY HOME, 18-Montmarte. I know I’m just throwing a bunnnnccchhh of information at you thats difficult to relate to so bare with me. That is all central Paris or zones 1-2. THEN (like any other city) there are suburbs, and each little suburb has a name like its own little town. So inside the city we use the metro, and then the metro that takes you out of the city is called the RER and that takes you to the suburbs.

So sorry I just put you through all of that. Added note: at the end of a lot of the lines are chateaux or rich lil burbs and the ones in between just blah. RELEVANCE: I have started doin’ me a little explorin’ outside center Paris.

So the other day I went to La Défense which is a prominent skyline outside of Paris full of really modern buildings. It’s more business than residential. All of these things I knew before going. And yet, when I went and it was the most unexpected, weird, futuristic places I could’ve imagined. You know the future part of back to the future? Or the Jetsons? Holy moly. So you step out and there’s this huge square office building with a big ole hole in it the middle, thats called the Grande Arche and it lines up perfectly with the Arc de Triomphe. And then there’s this huge all pedestrian walk through the center of la defense and the roads and cars are just hangin’ out underneath that. There is loads of really cool buildings and art work and plants! I think I was mostly shocked by the contrast between the sparkly, tall, and glassy “Paris” and the old, romantic, tan-colored-building “Paris” I know. AND: there’s a chipotle there! (woooohooo), BUT: there is no queso (so why even chipotle?)

View of La Défense from Arc de Triomphe

Iris, La Défense

View of Arc de Triomphe from La Défense (it’s there, I promise!)

          In stark contrast I also went to Versailles, the city where the Chateau of Versailles is located— shocker right? Anywho, the château was built in the 1600’s by Louis the XIV, who also started construction of the Louvre (so they look similar). But the château is just really big and full of stuffy furniture. Architecturally, I don’t think it compares to some of the châteaux we saw in the Loire Valley — although the gold covered everything was a *subtle* reminder of the wealth that used to be. The gardens on the other hand were super impressive and huge and I’d just like to see the army of garden gnomes trimming the hedges and digging lakes wherever the royalty wish. Walked through the gardens to Marie Antoinette’s estate. Pink marble, pink curtains, pink seat cushions, pink china — gag me with a spoon. I’ll have to go back during the spring when there are flowers and I can walk outside without getting that red-nose, frozen-hands stuff.

Château de Versailles

Galerie des Glaces (Hall of Mirrors), Château de Versailles

Le Petit Trianon (Marie Antoinette’s estate), Château de Versailles

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Aside from that I’ve just been hangin’ out being a cliché, literally sitting in a café drinking a café au lait while writing this. I went on a little promenade (is that also a word for a walk in english?) through chinatown, which is more like chinajapanthialandcambodiatown. Still in and out of museums and hiding from the weather. Ah and then one night this last week my friend with a connection got us into this famous club called VIP and it just so happened that it was the night that Paris Men’s Fashion Week was finished so all the models were out and it just so happened that the first people we talked to when we got into the club were the Calvin Klein models because this is Paris and these things happen so casually. But we ended up going to an after party with the Calvin Klein models. I just can’t get over it. Calvin Klein models, Calvin Klein models, Calvin Klein models, you know the ones that do photo shoots and walk the cat walks. AH whatever I didn’t freak out or anything. Anyways, that’s all I’ve got for now.. Counting down the days till you visit.

xxxxx,

Elise

Chinatown, 13th arrondissement

Pic or it didn’t happen?

January 20, 2015

Nymphéa, Claude Monet, l’Orangerie

Claaaair,

So things are finally almost back to normal in spite of the ak-47-laden gendarmeries (military personal/police officers) and random *frequent* bag checks. The streets of Paris are becoming increasingly marred with Je suis Charlie, which I find quite comforting. On wednesday the new Charlie Hebdo magazine was released. The cues were hours long and all the kiosks were sold out within 15 minutes of their opening. Side note: a kiosk is what I call the newsstands right outside of each metro station. I got up at 6 am on friday to get one of the 2 million additional prints and they were sold out within 30 minutes. Weirdly enough walking home with one tucked under my arm, I felt like Charlie (from the chocolate factory) with his golden ticket. I was asked by 2 people where I bought mine, and another woman was all “Oh la la la la you got one.” Keep in mind this is maybe a 5 minute walk.

The weathers been quite terrible so I’ve been hibernating in different museums. Centre Pompidou had on a couple nice exhibitions, my favorites being Frank Ghery (Canadian architect) and Jeff Koons (American artist). The Koons exhibit was just really fun and colorful in contrast to the awful yuck that is the weather. The Pompidou is always like that though; I appreciate all of the modern artwork, but with that being said I feel that some of it walks a fine line between “ whoa thats really neat” and “I could do that.” My favorite part of any musée in Paris though would have to be the 5th floor of the beautiful trian-station-turned- museum — Musée d’Orsay. It is a treasure trove of the most incredible paintings from the impressionism period. It’s full of the paintings you grew up seeing on overlooked posters at the doctor’s office. I have spent enough time there that I can tell you (solely by the artists paint strokes) who painted what; Renior, Sisley, Manet, Cézanne, Degas, Monet. Ugh but there is THE most fabulous Monet in the Musée de l’Orangerie. They are oval rooms with a huge ‘Nymphéa’—or water lily painting— stretched across each wall. One of the most serene places I know in Paris.

Jeff Koons, Centre Georges Pompidou

Jeff Koons, Centre Georges Pompidou

Jeff Koons, Centre Georges Pompidou

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           I’m not a stuffy old museum-hag yet though! I swear have a life outside museums outside of all that. More to come in a bit. Much love darling.

Bisous,

Elise

January 12, 2015

Chère Clair,

After the 2 glorious weeks I spent at home I was ready to go back to my home away from home. I think on my way back to Paris I experienced almost every travel cliché that exists, getting an unnecessary pat-down by TSA, sitting next to crying babies, the snoring man that falls asleep on you, etc… And then I had finally returned to the land of cheap wine, baguette, and pastries like you would not believe. Im back to speaking and thinking in French, which feels surprisingly normal.

Returning was fantastic but the jet-lag was horrid, and not even 3 days after I returned Paris was attacked by terrorists. The 7th of January is a day I will not ever forget. 12 people were killed at Charlie Hebdo, a satirical magazine. Being from the USA we hear about terrorism and loss of life all the time, how many people die due to gun violence in one day in the US? I think we have become completely desensitized to it. But in France– Europe even– there aren’t guns. So up until that moment I had been whimsically and thoughtlessly wandering through streets because my biggest concern was what museum I would visit– Paris was my safe-haven. And then to find out a female police officer had been shot in the south of Paris the next day.. I immediately retreated into my chambre-de-bonne (my one room apartment), shocked that this could be happening.. The 9th is another day that will live in infamy in the back of all french minds. The brothers who had killed 12 had taken one person hostage in a city to the north of Paris, and simultaneously the man who shot the cop had taken a handful of hostages in eastern Paris. For whatever reason I could not hold it together, me and all my friends were constantly updating each other and it was just so unbelievable. Throughout the day there were announcements to stay inside, avoid windows, and leave the lights off. I had a friend not even a mile from the hostage situation inside Paris– it was my worst nightmare. Oh and then whilst walking to get baguette (*I AM AN IDIOT*) there was a bomb threat called into Trocadero, a major touristic Eiffel Tower view, which coincidentally is a 7 minute walk from my apartment. False alarm, but alas the panic was in full effect. At this point I ran inside and watched the news. “Its getting dark — waiting — undescribed situation — 4 explosions — gunfire– two more explosions.” Then it was over. 4 hostages dead, 3 of 4 hostage-takers dead and a sense of something (I can’t call relief) took over my body.

What shocked me more than the events themselves was the nation’s reaction. Being a french citizen and having spent a lot of my life here I know french people – stubborn and passionate. I feel that Americans love to say french people are rude, but its also their point of view as tourist, I mean who actually likes tourists? What I saw was a nation that stood together. The night of the first attack 35,000 people gathered at Place de la République in solidarity against terrorist acts on freedom of speech, thus, JE SUIS CHARLIE was born. We hear about attacks all over constantly, but when something like this happens in a place you call home it flattens you. I am still unable to form the right words in a way that makes grammatical sense to express how scary and sickening it is. Again on Sunday there was another march. It was the largest gathering in french history with 1.3 million people in Paris, and 4 million people in all of france. The energy was incredible. These are my brothers and my sisters, the prime ministers and presidents of the worlds most powerful countries, and we were all standing together because we were not afraid. We are not afraid. Vive la liberté. It was the most fulfilling day of my life. And it’s because of these people, standing to protect freedom of speech, that I can sit here right now and write what I please. For that I am forever grateful.

 

Miss you so much Clair-Bear.

Groses Bises xx

Elise