And so I begin with the end in mind...

Arrival

Judging by the pompous title of my blog, you might think that I'm trying to put Rick Steve's out of a job. Not exactly, although he did strike a cord with me when I read his review on Bordeaux. Instead, I thought it would be cool to update you on my mishaps as I explore this city and whatever else comes my way as I spend the next two weeks of my break here in l'Octogone (aka France). And so...here we go. ; )

It pretty much took me a day and a half to get here, but...some interesting things happened on the way. First off, I had a nice surprise after reaching Memphis (my first stop from LA). As I walked out of the plane and tried to navigate myself around the airport as I started my 6 hour layover I saw Neil Strauss (and possibly Timothy Ferris walking next to him). That was pretty amazing. If you don't know who Neil Strauss is, don't worry about it, but for those of you who do know...you can just imagine what I was thinking... As we walked past each other, we locked eyes for a second as he was talking to his friend, and that was pretty much it. If I was the type of person to approach celebrities (or underground celebrities for that matter) and bother them, like most people do, then I probably would have said something along the lines of:

"Hey Neil, can I get your opinion on something...?"

It would have been EPIC! Or would it? It's almost equivalent, in my mind at least, to going up to Dave Chappelle and saying "I'm Rick James B*t**!" Dave Chappelle HATES it when people do that! HATES it!

Anyway, I decided to move on and find some food as I was pretty much starving at this point. (The day prior, I had waken up at 6:30am, had an ECD final that day, and then embarked on my journey to France starting with my LAX flight at 1:40am without taking any naps or such in between. Considering I can't sleep on planes...I was a walking zombie and hungry like no other.)

I reached Cincinnati next, nothing exciting here except some funny accents.

After my 8 hour trans-atlantic flight from Cincinnati, I found myself in Charles de Gaulle airport. I caught a train from there to Bordeaux, and this is where the story begins...

2 days without sleep so far and here I am on a train going through the country side to reach my southern destination of France's Napa equivalent called Bordeaux. (That's a pretty pompous statement right there; wine connoisseurs...I hope you can forgive me, but if you can't find it in your heart to do so, then you obviously haven't been to Napa, lol.)

After about 45 minutes to an hour (it's a 4 hour train ride) a really cute french girl boarded the train and sat next to me. (I don't think it was her choice or anything, that was her assigned seat.) Regardless, I decided this would be a good opportunity to try to revive my french and restore some honor to my french major. Interestingly...it worked. I was speaking to her and she was speaking to me. Midway in the conversation I asked her if she spoke any other languages. She said she spoke German and some English. I asked her to practice speaking her English by responding in English to me, as I practiced my French, while I spoke to her. It worked, and we spoke for the entire trip.

She asked me questions like "Is the United States really what it's like in the movies?"; "Are the girls in California really beautiful?"; "What do people think about Obama?" etc. etc.

She also told me that girls in France (or Bordeaux - I forgot which one she said) love American guys. And then she asked me if I had a girlfriend or not.

She gave me her number and told me she would be willing to show me around Bordeaux...with her boyfriend. Weird, I know. I hope this doesn't turn into the movie "Hostel." But hey - I can use a tour guide...or 2. (To her credit, however, we really did make a friendship out of our 3 hour conversation.)

I have to mention at this point that at least 3 people so far, including her, had asked me why I chose to go to Bordeaux. The question was posed in such an inquisitive way each time as to almost suggest it was a bad choice. So here I am, after my taxi drive to my apartment/hotel. (It's an apartment, but it also like a hotel, it's like a weird fusion. I have my own small little kitchen, I guess that's what set's it apart. It also has a single bed, to my dismay, something I thought I'd never have to go back to since I grew past 6 feet.) The apartment isn't anything grand I should mention, but it was less expensive then hotels and just a tad more expensive than hostels. For the privacy, I think it was worth it (I'm kinda over the hostel thing, each one you go to is always a surprise - good or bad. For example, the first night I spent in Barcelona back in college, I shared it with a couple, and you can only imagine the things that go on in a dark room with two bunk-beds and hormones while you have to be a witness to it all; this was bad. Conversely, my second night I shared another room with two cute Italian girls; this was good, as we became friends.) Anyway, here I am at the lobby of the apartment. The receptionist was a confident and rather cute...french girl. She gave me the keys to my new abode and some instructions. Now...at this point I had gone two days without any REM sleep and a total of 2-3 hours non-REM sleep spread sporadically throughout the journey, and I had not eat for almost an entire day. So naturally I passed out on the bed for 6 hours. I woke up around 9:30pm and I was still hungry, but this time my hunger was messing with me mentally. I decided to leave the apartment and try to find something to eat. After about walking around for an hour and thirty minutes, I found nothing. I couldn't believe it, NOTHING!

If you've been to San Francisco before, you can appreciate how busy and compact everything is. Now Bordeaux reminds me a lot of San Francisco because of how many buildings there are and how compact the city is as a whole. Now...here I am walking around in this big city, and it's like a ghost town. There's an occasional person passing me by, but very rarely. It was unreal, and what was even more eerie was these big black things flying around. They would pass very close to me. I recently watched the Spanish movie 'Beutiful' with Javier Bardem. (If you haven't watched it, I highly recommend it, you can get it at any local redbox.) When the main character was sleeping in his apartment, the camera would focus on the HUGE black moths that would gather on the ceiling of his room. So naturally I thought, okay...Bordeaux is close to Barcelona geographically and so they share the same climate relatively speaking, so I deduced these must be those big moths I saw in the movie. On retrospect now...they could have been bats, and after what I learned about rabies and bats in my IDIT course in dental school, I more apprehensive now that if I don't get my butt kicked by some hooligans for walking the streets of Bordeaux past midnight, then I must just suffer from encephalitis from the hands of a bat.

I came back to my apartment, defeated and still miserably hungry. I went online to find any take out food options near me. No luck. I lay on the bed and considered just passing out until I could wake up and go shopping for food. Unfortunately, considering I wasn't tired because I had just woken up a few hours prior, that plan wasn't the best. After fighting some major lethargy, I decided to search online for some Irish pubs I could go to so at least I could fill my stomach with beer and socialize with some locals or tourist. I found one, it was past midnight, but I headed out to my location anyway. It took a good 20-30 minutes to reach my location, but I finally found the "Frog Pub."

http://www.frogpubs.com/english-pub.php?pub=6

There weren't too many people in the place, but considering it was Sunday night past midnight, I could sympathize with the situation, but only a little bit. At this point I did not have the energy or desire to practice my french. So...I walked up to the female bartender and proceeded to talk English, which should be my right at an English pub if you think about it. (After all this is supposed to be an "English" speaking pub.) She started talking to me in french. (I thought: heck no techno, no more francais). "You speak English?" I asked her bluntly. Luckily, she did, although with a thick accent. I got my beer and started looking for some people to talk to. Again, interestingly, all of the 15-20 people there were speaking French. Who would of thought, right? I spent some time there, drank my beer, which cost me about 6 euros (1 euro = 1.43 dollars). The pub actually was a brewery itself as well, and purportedly the only pub in all of Bordeaux that brews its own beer. It was tasty.

I walked out of the pub and luckily on my way home there was a small quicky mart that was open. I went inside with the ecstatic realization that finally I was going to eat something. I bought one of those tuna sandwiches wrapped inside a plastic box (something you would find at a 7-11) and a nestle chocolate bar. Boy, was I a happy camper or what. Preservative-filled sandwiches never tasted so good.

I walked on back home. Mission accomplished.

It's 2 am now and I went online onto the Rick Steve's website, hoping I could find some interesting things to do in Bordeaux. Lo and behold I stumbled onto his article titled: "Bad Town and Tourist Traps."
 Lucky for me...Bordeaux was on that list. Here's what he had to say about it:

"Bordeaux must mean "boredom" in some ancient language. If I were offered a free trip to that town, I'd stay home and clean the fridge. Connoisseurs visit for the wine, but Bordeaux wine country and Bordeaux city are as different as night and night soil. There's a wine-tourist information bureau in Bordeaux which, for a price, will bus you out of town into the more interesting wine country nearby. For fine wine country and a delightful look at rural France consider exploring Burgundy, using Beaune as a homebase town."


http://www.ricksteves.com/plan/destinations/europe/traps.htm

Things started to add up all the sudden. 1) French people asking me why I'm going to Bordeaux. 2) Ghost town big city. 3) Walking the dark bat-filled streets of Bordeaux in the wee hours of morning, alone, and not getting my a$$ kicked.

All of the sudden, negative thoughts started pouring into my sleep deprived body. Is this going to be another Geneva, I thought to myself. If you notice, Geneva is another city on Rick Steve's list that should be avoided. I whole heartily agree with that one.
I decided to sleep and give Bordeaux a chance, you know...let a few days pass and confirm or dispute Rick Steve's claim...so here we go.

Day 1

I suddenly woke up as I realized someone was knocking aggressively on my door.

The door opened.

What the heck...I thought. A lady was asking me in french if she could start her house cleaning duties. Although, it took her three times to ask the question because I had just woken up and between trying to figure out what as going on and trying to hide my naked body, save my boxers, I had a rough time turning on the french switch.

I finally, I faced her, pretty much still naked and told her that I didn't need any cleaning right now.

My room was pitch dark, and I was confused why someone would knock on my door so late into the night to do such a thing. I took a look at my watch. It was 2:30pm. Wait...that doesn't make sense I thought. Perhaps I should explain something before I go on here. All the windows here that I've seen in the neighborhood that I'm residing in have these metals blinds that can be rolled down and block the window. I took a picture to demonstrate:

So I opened up my metal shutters to see if my clock was deceiving me or not. Dear god...it was actually day outside. Man I could have slept for another 24 hours, these metal shutters don't let any form of electromagnetic radiation in...lol., DDF (Dorky Dental Reference.)

So, I proceeded to get ready and finally go shopping for some food. As I was walking I noticed the still very quite atmosphere of my neighborhood. (I only live a 10-20 minute walk away from downtown.) The market next to my apartment isn't very big I admit, it's actually quite quaint. This was one of those moments were you step back and appreciate the world for what it is. At this particular moment I was really appreciating Trader Joe's. You guys in the states don't even know how good you have it sometimes. I paid about $2.50 for 4 slices of turkey meat. For $5, you get a pound of turkey meat at most supermarkets in the states. "Oh but it's France, you must learn to eat less and enjoy your food!" ...shut the f*** up.

As I paid for my groceries I noticed there was no paper or plastic bags. I quickly realized that you were responsible for bringing your own bags. I only had my carrier bag with me, so I started stuffing as much of my groceries as I could into it (which wasn't much) and as for the rest, I had to carry it in my arms like a baby cradled to my chest.

So I'm back at the apartment, I make an omelet, sliced some of baguette, and pull out a cup to pour some milk for myself. The cups are either espresso cups or...they're the size of espresso cups. This wouldn't do, so I just poured the milk into a bowl and drank it that way. I actually prefer it that way, and a lot of french drink their coffee in bowls as well too. It's nothing you would really see at a cafe, but at a french home perhaps.

After breakfast, I walked downtown.

Boy...1 point for Pasha, 0 for Rick Steves. Downtown was bustling with tourist and locals. I was mostly on Rue St. Catherine which is the LONGEST street in Europe. So many shops and cafe's, street after street! I saw french stores in addition to stores like Zara, H&M, Guess, an Apple Store, etc. Of course...I saw a McDonald's too. I'm surprised every time I see a McDonald's in Europe. First of all, it's normally A LOT cleaner inside and the food actually looks good. It's amazing how many people eat there in Europe. I was watching beautiful girls chomping into a big mac or tearing away at a chicken wing at KFC. Speaking about beautiful girls...this is something Bordeaux is not short on. Rick Steve's must either be married with high fidelity or gay*.

It's rare to say this, but I saw so many 9-10s walking around today. (Not objectify women, but I need to convey this point to you somehow.) To me, some of the most beautiful women I saw today were the African ladies. Mama mia...throw away the nestle chocolate from last night, I'm purchasing some 100% cocoa tomorrow.

When packing for this trip I was contemplating on whether or not to bring my new era LA baseball hat. I decided against it because I didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb as an American. After all...I'm here to work on my french too so I don't want people coming up to me and just speaking English.

Well...too bad I didn't because first of all after seeing what I saw today, I have the feeling that the youth here want to be American. A lot of the guys were wearing new era baseball hats, most notably New York Yankees. Secondly, as hard as I tried to find some English speaking people I couldn't! I wish I could stick out like sore thumb now. I was walking about getting close to people just hear them talk, so that if I heard them talking English I could just butt right in and makes some friends. Nada...didn't find one person today! Maybe some better luck tomorrow.

I walked the streets till about 9:30pm. I came home and ate some and decided to walk back downtown to go to The House of Parliament (HOP):

http://www.hop-pub.com/index.html

I started walking outside and it was raining. It was midnight when I started walking, and then suddenly I thought...hey I should save the HOP for a happening night, not a Monday. Bordeaux is a college town, but unfortunately, since it's the summer a lot of the students are allegedly gone.

Here are some pictures from today: http://flickr.com/gp/49435174@N03/94LfY5/ 

(You can check back with this link as I will try to update it throughout my trip.)

Well...there's more to say from today, but it's 4:20am right now and I should get some rest. I should send this tee-shirt I saw today to Rick Steves.

The shirt says: "This is Bordeaux, F*** Paris"

Good night all, till tomorrow's post~

Wine of the night: 

*I'm sure he's not gay. I actually really like Rick Steves and very envious of his job.

Day 2

Ring Ring Ring Ring!!!
I suddenly woke up to answer my room's land-line phone. That ring of that phone is tortuously loud.
"French french french french french...doctor....french french french," said a women.
Yes...the only word I could understand through that blast of french was the word...doctor. I had to admit to the person that couldn't exactly understand what they were trying to communicate. I felt defeated.
I took a look at the time, it was 10am. This was not good considering I slept a little after 6am. I tried to wake up from the slumber and convince myself that I should start my day so that finally I could get in tune with a normal circadian rhythm. (Jet lag was and is still is taking it's toll.)
I ate some cereal and the proceeded to the lobby to ask the receptionist girl if she was the one who called my room this morning. It wasn't her she told me. Hmmm...whatever, I thought.
I needed to do some more grocery shopping, so I left the complex and went to the marche (market). I picked up some necessary staples including my morning baguette. I walked back to my apartment with the intention of making an egg sandwich, but as soon as I walked into my apartment I could feel a headache coming on (most probably from my lack of proper sleep.) I got on skype and called my buddy Yann, who was a french exchange student I met one night at a frat party back in college. He lives in Alsace, near Strasbourg (the capital of the European Union - it's situated in Eastern France.) He was explaining his new living situation to me and basically how busy he is with this new job and hustling to make ends meet with his new bought/rented flat in the city. He urged me to come whenever I wanted throughout my trip and stay with him for awhile. I thanked him and let him know that I would call before I trekked over there, if I did.
Next, I called Marine, the french girl I met on the train. She broke her deal, because she only spoke french to me on the phone. Luckily I rebounded from the defeat this morning on the phone with the anonymous caller and actually handled the conversation pretty well with Marine in french. She told me she had a job interview in the afternoon, but that we could go to dinner at night. I gave her my contact information and wished her good luck.
So...before I go on with the proceedings of the day, I must mention something I failed to do so in the last couple of posts. Bordeaux, dubbed one of France's proudest wine capitals is itself the capital of a region in France called Aquitaine. There's a picture below just for your reference:

It's been cloudy over here for the past couple of days with occasional sprinkling of rain, but the weather is still around 70-75 degrees. In a few days it will be sunny again and I intend to hit the beaches hopefully.
Anyway, I started my day by trying to trek more of Bordeaux.
Despite the cloudy weather and occasional sprinkles, downtown was packed with shoppers, locals and tourists.

Street life was animated today as I saw a number of musicians playing on the streets. Something that caught my attention particularly was a guy playing on a instrument I had never seen in my life. I won't even begin to describe it for you as I took the liberty to video tape it for you. If there's anyone who knows what this guys is playing, please enlighten me!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2T9Hfi1IN8

I proceeded to walk down the busy bustling street of Rue St. Catherine past the Grand Theatre and the huge monumental statue of "a la memoire des girodines" onto the Jardin Botanique. This was a beautiful place by itself to take a walk or run in, read a book, or just relax. There was a rather huge pond (which reminded me of the UC Davis Arboretum) with geese, ducks and what not, large stone buildings and a botanical garden, of course. The garden, however, wasn't much to talk about. Perhaps it wasn't the right time of year for the garden. Here are some pictures I took below:

       

So here I am walking the delightful trails of jardin botanique of Bordeaux and then a thought hits me. "What the HELL am I doing here?" I thought. Yea, it's nice and all and maybe I'll come back tomorrow and read my book here, but all the beautiful french girls are stuffing their faces with Big Macs right now at McDonalds on Rue St. Catherine. As I came to my senses I headed back toward the bustling road of Rue St. Catherine.

If you remember, I told you in a previous post that Rue St. Catherine is purportedly the longest road in Europe. It's my second official day in Bordeaux and I can't iterate enough how many beautiful girls and women I have seen. I mean there's must be something fishy going on here or something. I mean really c'mon, it's as if a couple here get together for a first date, have a nice dinner, eat some dessert and then sit down, bust out a Ti-89 graphing calculator and start drawing up statistical analyses in order to deduce the likely hood of having progeny with beautiful physical characteristics. I consider myself to be a rather picky person, so this statements carries some weight with it, lol, but really what is really going on here!

Moving on...the day before I had found a gym on Rue St. Catherine. Believe me, it's no 24-hour fitness, but it has reasonable rates, about 12 euros for 2 weeks. I was considering joining, but then it wouldn't make much sense because at roughly $2.50 per 4 slices of turkey meat, I couldn't sustain the diet I would need in order to make the gym worth my time. Plus, with all this walking around everywhere, I'll probably lose 10 pounds by the time I get back to the states. No bueno. 

I started walking around the side streets of Rue St. Catherine, something I hadn't really done yet, because they're so many, and to my surprise some of these sides streets were filled with their own bustling crowds of people, bars, restaurants, shops and the lot. I actually saw a sign selling Pho, but I didn't take picture of it, maybe next time. (I thought of you Stella! - get it, cause you like Pho, lol). 

As I started navigating my way through the side streets I eventually came up upon the English pub "The House of Parliament." This was awesome, I was looking for this place! Here's what it looks like from the outside:

I quickly walked in and lo and behold I found 3 blond English (actually 1 was Irish) bartenders and they were arguing in English! This was great! I sat down and eagerly looked at them to get their attention so I could order a beer after they finished arguing. Well...the argument passed and the resumed their work. I kept looking at them, but still no service. Interesting I thought. I let 5 minutes pass as I sat on a bar stool by the bar and looked at these bartenders. I was like invisible to them. Other people came up and got drinks and not even a look came my direction. Finally, I stepped onto of the golden stepping bar, pushed all my weight onto it as I stood 7 feet erect looking at the bartender. "Are you guys still serving!?" I said with a rather firm voice, although with a smile.  Yea of course, the female bartender replied, what do you want. "A corona, please." I think it was obvious by my accent, or lack of accent, that I was American, however, no mention was made of it. She gave me my beer and left. The bartenders started talking amongst themselves again. I looked at them, kinda incredulously, although not hinting at it. I kept sipping on my beer and occasionally glancing at their direction. They heard me speak English, I thought, and being one of the very few English speaking individuals at that bar I was surprised that they didn't acknowledge my existence. The male bartender seemed particularly full of himself. He was kinda brushing off customers as he responded back to them in French (all the customers we're pretty much french and these 3 bartenders were all bilingual.) This guy seemed like he was going to be a tough cookie to crack (well...they all seemed pretty hard to crack really), but I came on a mission to befriend as many people as I can and so I wasn't going to give this opportunity up. I let 15 minutes pass by as I just slowly sipped on my beer and observed all of their demeanors and mannerisms. Finally, the stage was clear, there was no one at the bar to be tended to and the male bartender was the only person behind the bar. 

Honestly, I already forgot what my opening line was to him (damn my short term memory), but whatever it was, it worked. Second question I asked was "So, what kinda of advice do you have for a first time Bordeaux goer like myself, any recommendations?" 

Kinda generic, I agree, but it was an honest question that I needed an honest answer to. 

"Well it depends, what are you into?" 

"Pretty much everything. ...Well everything except botanical gardens."

"Good! Forget the botanical gardens..." and he went on to recommend somethings.

After that, we hit it off pretty much. I sat next to him while he had his dinner (the female Irish bartender had gotten everyone McDonalds) and started firing questions at him in order to engage him in conversation so he could start talking about himself. 

As Lim, that's his name, finished his dinner, Thiona or Fionia, I forget, the rather cute Irish girl bartender came and sat down where Lim had been sitting (which at this point is next to me). I started to get to know her as she ate dinner. I tried to come off as nonchalantly as I could, so she didn't think I was hitting on her, and I think it was working pretty well as we actually carried on a good conversation and she gave me some recommendations. Although when we were talking about working on our french, because she admitted that she wasn't fluent either, she brought up her boyfriend and how he's fluent. Red flag. 

Guys, if a girl ever mentions her boyfriend in a conversation with you there's 1 of 3 things going on. Either:

1) She wants you to be aware that's she's taken and to implicitly try to make your thick skull understand that she's not interested.

or

2) She's trying to remind herself she has a boyfriend and to do the right thing which is to implicitly tell you "I'm not interested, even though I kinda am."

or

3) Or she's trying to tell you "I have a boyfriend, are you okay with that?" 

Just so I can sleep at night I always tell myself that it's either option 2 or 3. Most likely, however, if this happens to you, it's normally option 1, unless you have tight game. The reason I say this is because if in reality you were facing option 2 or option 3, she's not just going to give it up to you, you need to have tight game to make your end result happen. Of course, that's only if you're into amoral deeds and selfishness, which if you're a male, probably puts you into that category. Just joking. (Not really.)

Moving on...so then I moved on to talk to an Irish lady at the bar who had brought her Golden Retriever with her inside the bar. All the bartenders were talking to her and everyone who was walking into the bar seemed to pay her some type of salutation. So... naturally, I moved on to talk to her and that turned out to be a delightful conversation. We talked about many things, such as America being the work-oholic nation that is, the great weather and beaches of Southern California, free healthcare in France and how a 10 year old child, in an unheard act by the police in Bordeaux, had been fined and taken to the police station for spitting out his gum onto the street. We basically talked about a lot of things. She lived in Paris for 16 years and now she had been living in Bordeaux for a very long time where she operated and owned a french restaurant next to the House of Parliament Pub. She had a dear Iranian friend in Paris that she lost contact with because the friend had moved back to Iran and yadda yadda we talked and talked. I liked her. She got up to leave, we said our adieu's and she told the bartender's I was a "good guy." Awww...that's nice of her. ; ) Cheers Etna.

Before all this, Lim the bartender gave me a second corona on the house and told me to roll by Thursday night for a potential pub crawl. 

For those of you who don't know, a pub crawl is an awesome little event some English speaking kids put together where they gather all the English speaking people (Irish, Canadian, American, Australian, New Zealanders, etc.) and take them to different pubs and clubs around town. I did it Barcelona and Italy, it was really memorable and a great way to get to know a city's offering of night life.

Below is a picture I took of the interior of the House of Parliament:

The picture is actually kinda deceiving, it's really a quaint and cozy place inside. Now, here's something interesting that Lim had told me during our conversation: there's loads of Americans in Bordeaux. 

Really...?

Where are they hiding, I asked Lim? He told me I'll see them on the weekend. Well, I hope he's right!

By the way, here's an interesting fact for you guys: unlike the States, you don't tip the bartender in Europe. Interesting. I tipped the guy anyway, I liked him. I also taught him what "cup-caking" means. He's gotta know it, he's moving to Orlando, Florida next year to open his own bar.

Speaking of which, I have to add something here. I have to admit that every time I hang out with an Aussi, Englishmen, Irishmen, fill in the blank person who works "abroad" I become rather envious of their lifestyle for a good 5-10 minutes. These guys are having the time of their lives working with other English speaking people around the globe in these European countries either in bars, clubs or pub crawl events. They party every night, get paid for it, live with one another, and then move on to a new country and do the same thing. You have to be in the atmosphere here to understand what I'm saying. These guys are having SO MUCH FUN! Seriously, sometimes I think we get jacked by living in the United States. We give credit to ourselves for having a higher standard of living, but we forget (or maybe don't even know to begin with) that we work our butts off around the clock either at school or at work to make sure we can afford that standard of living. Every time I have a conversation with a European about this, they express how sad they feel for our lives, and they always end by saying "Life is too short." On the other hand, one never knows the entire story. You can have fun in youth, but one day you need support a livelihood, a community, and possibly a family.

When Lim asked me who I cam to see in Bordeaux, I told him I just came here on my own accord and have no friends or family here. He told me that was a very bold move. Interestingly enough, I think what he does is bold, moving from country to country, working from bar to bar. Who's at more risk here? Lim for his uncertain future, or me for my static quality of life? (Bold statement, I know, I'll chew on it and get back to you on it later.) 

I got home and checked my e-mail. I was supposed to have dinner with Marine and her bf tonight. Too late for that I thought. However, I had gotten an e-mail from her. She had gotten the job and had to dedicate the rest of the day to administrative duties. Her first day of work starts tomorrow, so she asked if she could postpone the dinner till the weekend. We'll see what happens, for now, I'm just happy for her. Unemployment sucks!

Till tomorrow's post!

p.s. I'll update my flickr account with more pictures soon. 

Day 3

I'm starting to make sense of Rick Steve's comment on Bordeaux now...and I believe it's all a matter of timing. But! Before I go on to explain that let me take you through my day. It was quite an eventful day today. 

My day started at 12:35ish when the housemaid person knocked aggressively on the door and then quickly barged in before I could dress myself (again). Of course, I was asleep at the time, so naturally she woke me up (again). I've been going to sleep at 6am, which I know isn't a good thing to do, but this jet lag hasn't been wearing off yet. 

Anyway, after she left I opened my armageddon metal blind shutters to see what it looked like outside. What do you know! It was sunny! Bordeaux is supposedly known for it's good weather, kinda like SoCal, but these first couple of days it was rather overcast, yet still between 70-75 degrees F during the day. 

I went on my computer to check my e-mails and what not and I noticed I had received an e-mail from an expat. I have to elaborate here...

So a couple of days ago I found this expat site:

http://www.expat-blog.com/

It's basically a site for all English speaking people who moved from their country and now live in France, or any other European country for that matter, and what to get to meet English speaking people. Okay...so I'm not technically an expat, but still I could use the site's services. I made an account/profile and I put a post up in a forum explaining who I was and how long I'm here in Bordeaux (along with my social security number, credit card number, mother's maiden name, permanent address and my thoughts on abortion)......

Anyway, so a guy by the name of Yohan contacted me. So, he's not technically an expat, because he's a Bordeaux native, but he's fluent in English and as a photographer he's traveled and worked in English speaking countries, like New Zealand and he likes linking up with English speaking people. I read his profile and saw his picture, he seems like a cool guy. He gave me his number, and I called him so we might try to meet up on Friday so he can show me around Bordeaux a bit. 

After my e-mail business, I went to the local grocery shop to pick up some staples, came home, and had some breakfast. Considering it was already 2-3 in the afternoon I decided to make myself a burger...which was a big mistake, because my apartment still smells like ground beef. Like seriously, I don't know what they put in the meat here, or maybe it's like super natural or something and this is how meat should smell like, but my apartment smells like a grease pit now.

After breakfast, I drank some beer and then decided to go downtown to H&M to pick up a tee-shirt. (I always prefer to be tipsy when I'm walking the streets when I'm abroad.) I have to say...H&M here is more expensive than the States. Considering the quality of H&M material, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to buy clothes from this store in Europe. For example, I'm not paying 20 bucks for an H&M tee-shirt or $40 for a cardigan that will start threading on me after two cycles of wash. Anyway, something awesome happened while I was at the store...and that is....I finally found what I've been looking for a long time, which is a square (NOT rectangle) thin scarf that I can hang over my neck like a Palestinian "keffiyeh." Now, this is normally worn by Palestinians, as I've read on the internet, to symbolize their cause, however, in the West, it has also become a very trendy fashion accessory. I've also read that Palestinians get rather upset when people wear keffiyeh's for the latter cause. I don't mean to upset anyone, but I primarily chose it for the latter cause. (It just looks so damn good.) Here's what it looks like:

So far, a very good start to my day.  After buying the scarf I decided to trek a new area of Bordeaux. I went to the office de tourisme and picked up a magazine of things to do and see around Bordeaux. As I was looking in the magazine, while sitting on the steps of "la memoires des girodins" the massive statue/fountain near the center of the city, I noticed an advertisement for outlets in Bordeaux stating "Depenser moins, c'est tellement chic" meaning "spend less, it's so chic." Sounds good to me, I thought, the only problem was that there was no address indicated. So, I got frustrated with the magazine as a whole (I mean c'mon how can you  advertise something and not state where the heck you're located!) I just got up, picked a direction and started walking that way. Not a bad choice...

Before I knew it I was walking on the river front of Bordeaux. I hadn't seen this place before, but it was obviously a very conspicuous place as it was lined with shops and most notably restaurants and bars. I kept following the river down the street until I stumbled upon a skate part. I stood around and watched a bit, because some of the kids were doing some impressive tricks:

And it so happens, where I was standing, I saw this: (Travis I thought of you man!)

If you guy's haven't seen the movie then go the website and watch it! It's allegedly the most watched movie on the internet with about 50,000 views a day I've been told. (And it's free.)

One more thing, before I move on. Before going on my quasi-quest on the river front, I saw this statue around the city center and I thought it would be cool to share, because it's so gnarly:

 Anyway, as I moved on down the river front, I walked and I walked, until I hit some docks that coincidentally...turned out to be...the outlets! It was a cool place with a lot of restaurants and shops!      

           

                             

So that was cool (really beautiful too, considering it's on the waterfront), but I could tell there weren't a whole lot of people there. It must have not been a busy time, and coupled with the fact that I have the attention span of a gnat,  I felt like I wanted to trek on to something else. I took out my map and tried to look for a new place to go to. Le lac. The lake. Seemed like there was a big lake north of where I was with a beach. So I found my new destination and headed that way. I decided to walk (because I was not really familiar with the city metro/bus system yet). Boy was that a mistake. To share my sentiment of what was going on, watch below:

                                         

Yes, so it wasn't the smartest idea to walk 4 miles (I googled it) to this place. On my way, however, I stumbled on a couple of things I wanted to share with you. First, being where I was, which was kinda the outskirts of Bordeaux, there was a lot of graffiti. One of the pictures caught my attention:

 Pay attention to the caption here. Is this supposed to be Sarkozy or the God Father? Let me know.

Second, I stumbled upon this.

1.61 Euros per Liter of gas. Now, 1 liter = 0.26 gallons. Meaning you need roughly 4 liters to equal 1 gallon. 1.61 Euros equals $2.30, which means....for a gallon of gas in Bordeaux you would have to pay $9.20. Now who do you think should complain? lol. 

Anyway, so I reached my final destination, le lac. So it wasn't necessarily "freaking" amazing, but it was quite calm and peaceful. It was sunny and there was a nice breeze. I saw people wind surfing, fishing, swimming, playing on the sandy beach (albeit it was small), families having picnic and...this still boggles me, people playing ping pong. Yes. Ping pong. They had outdoor ping pong tables by the water. Why don't we have this??

It was a great place to relax after a four mile walk. I took out my book on how to socialize with the human race and started reading. It was great. 

After my read I got up and decided I should return back to town (downtown). I caught the tram, for the first time, back to where I first started out. It was convenient and nice. About 1.40 Euros for a ticket. On the way I was thinking to myself how lucky I was for not getting messed with by the Arabs for wearing this keffiyeh. There's a lot of Arabs in France, and once in awhile they would look at me, but not much more. Although, I must say I was getting a stern look from a serious Punjabi man on the Tram. I forgave him though. After all, he was sporting a turban with what is my favorite color for clothing. Purple. (Harps I thought of you.)

I was walking back through Rue St. Catherine so I could head back home and make myself some dinner before I headed out to the pubs. On my way, I could hear some loud hip-hop being played. I followed the musique and it lead me to an area where a number of guys, and their girlfriends, were street dancing. That's my thing yo. So I sat next to the girlfriends of the guys and started taking some video. (The girlfriends didn't dance, they were just there to take video). Here we are: (Not super impressive dancing, but not bad either.)

So then I went home to eat and relax a little before I decided to pay a visit to the pubs I had scouted out earlier in the day. So fast-forwarding, the first pub I went to is called "Le Dick Turpin" which is an English pub that was rather packed during the day. 

www.myspace.com/dickturpins 

I went inside the pub, which was also rather packed at night, straight to the bar and ordered a corona from the bartender. Yes. A Corona. This is one way I like to distinguish myself as an American abroad, not to be pompous at all, but rather send a signal to the female of the species that "different" has just walked into the room. As expected, everyone there was speaking French. Luckily the bartender spoke English. I started chatting it up with him. He was a rather mellow chap. As I was asking for recommendations on what to do for Bordeaux, I noticed a line of customers being ignored as he took his time to answer my questions, in a super mellow yellow kinda of way. You see, the bartenders here don't get tipped, so there's no rush to "serve" the customer like they are served in America. I tipped the guy twice that night, it's the only thing that turned his mellow attitude into a big smile from ear to ear. He was a cool guy though. He motioned me to give him a second while he poured some beers for the customers. As he was doing that I heard something...I looked over to my shoulder and lo and behold it seemed like...yes... it was! Two duders were speaking English, although one had an English accent. I immediately, turned around and said 'Sorry, I don't meant to butt in, but are you guys' speaking English?' And that's were the night started.

Nick was a dude from San Francisco (Actually Tiburon, Ca - an affluent city in Marin County, the purported 3rd richest county in all of California which is just across the Golden Gate bridge). Andy, I believe was the other guys name, was a guy from London (a dude from North Hampton, England actually). I got to talking to these two guys and we eventually hit it off. 

Nick reminds me a lot of my coworker and friend Nick Strauli back at UCSF. They both had the same relaxed, cool demeanor, the wavy hair, they both surf and skateboard, both wear plaid shirts and both live(d) in Marin. Nick is a second year in college, spent a year in UCSD and is now attending college in Boston. He decided to move to Bordeaux for the summer and live with a host family because he will be spending the entire school year in Paris next year as an exchange student. In the meantime, he managed to find a job for himself at a bar/restaurant on the riverfront here in Bordeaux. (Talk about different, this guys is living my regrets from college! - I wanted to be an exchange student to Bordeaux for a year back in college, but it never happened.) Nick's advice to me was to tell the French girls I was from San Francisco, because apparently they love to hear that. (Good thing I've been doing that the entire time.)

Andy moved to Bordeaux and lives here now because his girlfriend, which he met in England three years ago, is a native Bordeaux-lian or whatever. He works at a bar in Bordeaux as well, and basically just living life. He said he wanted a change from his life in England, and so here he is now living with his girlfriend Cecile. 

While me and Andy were talking outside, Nick was macking on 4 French/Spanish girls inside the bar. I enjoyed the fact that he was doing that, despite his limited french. He reminds me of my past, present and future, LOL.

After we had a few drinks Andy asked me if I would like to join them to a free concert on the waterfront where they would be meeting up with Cecile. We jumped on the Tram, without buying tickets, but Andy had reassured us that the controllers get off work at 8pm and there was nothing to worry about. We got to the waterfront and the music was blazing loud. People we're drinking their own home brought beers, buying beer on the streets, etc. It was cool, but we couldn't find Cecile yet, so we went to the Cambridge bar, where Nick works, which happened to be right across from the concert. There I met his staff, Owen an Irish dude and a girl, I forget her name already, but she was interesting. She was from LA, graduated from UCLA, is a vegan and wears fur coats. I ordered some more Coronas as we talked to the two. Next, we went outside on the patio and met two other people. Honestly, I already forgot their names, which is a shame considering I spent a couple of hours talking to them. One of them was a guy and the other was a girl. The guy was from the Netherlands and the girl, I'm not too sure. Before we sat down with them, we decided to go find Cecile and her friend across the street at the concert, which we did. Cecile is a cute petite brunette. Her friend, a German, was an outgoing girl who is working as a surgical nurse in France right now. We met, exchanged kisses, and went back to the Cambridge to meet up with the other two people. We sat and talked for a while. They were all quite animated and lively people.  In the middle of all our conversations I saw a girl walk in with a new era baseball hat that had the SF Giants logo on it! It was really refreshing to see this (I doubt she was American or anything) because every guy I have seen in Bordeaux pretty much, especially the french black wannabe American fellows, have been all wearing the new era baseball hats for the New York Yankees. These people must really love New York or something. Speaking of which, it's my personal impression that some of the youth here, especially the guys, really look up to American "culture" and fashion wear. Some of the french black try to act all thugish and all, and some even look like they just came out of Compton (with the exception that they're a tad bit more immaculate with their dressing apparel) but it doesn't quite work with French accent. Regardless, they look good.

After our conversations and drinks finished, we all got up and walked towards la rue St. Catherine. On my way I saw this and thought of you Pam:

We split ways eventually, and Nick and I walked together towards our abodes, as we live relatively close to one another. I had explained to Nick and Andy the comment on Bordeaux that I had read about from Rick Steve's site. This is where things started to clarify for me. Apparently, Bordeaux became a revived city approximately 4-5 years ago when the new mayor came to town. All the buildings were soot colored, there were no shops like there are now and definitely no Tramway system. However, the city got some money from the government and has been totally revived and is still be worked on till this day. I remember Marine, the french girl on the train ride here, had also explained the same thing to me, but I wasn't aware the change was as drastic as it actually is. So there you go, Rick's article must be from a number of years back. 

As we reached our splitting point, Nick and I exchanged numbers and said our goodbyes. I'm supposed to meet them tonight again at the House of Parliament where there might be a pub crawl if there's a good enough crowd. 

Ok, that good enough for now. Make sure to check my updated pictures on my flickr account! 

Till the next post!

Day 4

Below I want to share some thoughts of mine with you that have more to do with philosophy than my day. If you're not interested in that, than just fast forward to the end of the dashed lines so you can start with my actual day. : )

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I have to start today's post by bringing a philosophical question into play. And that is....can you really call yourself "privileged" when you have not been able to experience every other possibility that could have very well been your life? This statement needs a lot of elaboration. You see, in order to consider oneself privileged in life, one must either have one of two mindsets to answer this question. The first, and most ideal of the two mindsets, is to base your "privileged-ness" on the basis of humility. That is to say, you breath air, are disease & disability free, have food to eat, have shelter and all the other trivial necessities that cover the bases of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. The second mindset, which I believe is the predominant mindset people take once they have those fundamental bases covered is one of perception. 

Many times I have heard in the United States, from friends, family and acquaintances the opinion that since we live in America (and notably California at that) we are, if not the most, one of the most, "privileged" people on earth. It's a casual statements for the ordinary American I would assume, because its truth is verified solely on the standard of living in America, which is undeniably much higher than anywhere else in the world. However, this elaboration, in my opinion, only serves to define the definition of "privileged" as one that is merely based on your capacity to buy a 50" LED TV with 1080p resolution, or drive a 3 series BMW, or live on a hill in a house which is bigger than you need. (Meaning, it depends on your capacity to purchase capital.)

Now, without diluting this topic anymore than it needs to be, I want to wrap it up to make a very quick point so I can start explaining my day to you. That is, I believe the word "privileged" as it is used so frequently in the states only serves to explain a person's standard of living in life and only grazes the other important definition of "privileged," which should be considered much more important, which is the quality of life. For you see, a high standard of living doesn't necessarily equate to a higher quality of life, which I find to be the case in America. I realize this is a mass generalization I'm making, but I dabbling with theories right now, so you have to be patient with me. To further elaborate on my philosophical question at the beginning of this blog, I think that when people say we are so "privileged" in America, they are quite on the money as long as we are talking about the standard of living, but that it doesn't necessarily ring absolute truth, comparison-wise, when we talk about the quality of living solely because they have not experienced (again, another gross generalization) all the different possibilities that could have been their life. In this case, "ignorance is bliss" is the only statement that can validate a person's perception of being "privileged." Don't get me wrong, this is not only for Americans, but for all people of the world. Perhaps, at the end of the day, it's only our perceptions that we can accept as "the truth's of our lives, and only...our lives." 

My very close friends and I, always talk about San Francisco being the beginning and the ends of all roads, which goes to express our immense appreciation and love for this beautiful city. Sometimes we are even bold enough to say that it is the greatest city on earth....which is a big stretch, but it's only because of our affinity for it. I have to say, however, that now that I've been in Europe for my 3rd time (and I've been to a number of different countries here) that San Francisco pales in comparison to some of these European countries in terms of daily life, night life and quite frankly, pure beauty in many cases. Don't get me wrong, I still love San Francisco, but at it's best, in the most PC-esque way one could put it, (as a kiwi told me last night) it's just different. 

I consider myself to be a very astute observer and I have to say that even though the standard of living is lower in the EU, the quality of life is so much higher. These guys are having a REALLY good time with themselves (again a gross generalization). And quite frankly, it's because their mindset, way of life, and governmental system is really different from ours. It's hard to express my thoughts all at once now, because I have to meet someone at a pub soon, lol, but throughout all three of my travels, especially this recent journey, every conversation I have had with  European about the difference of living in the EU and the States has drawn the conclusion that WE, as a people in the States, are really missing out on the quality of life. We are not deprived by any means, and we actually do quite well, but comparison-wise, I think the Europeans have the advantage of culture and the immense experience of knowing how to have a "good time" on their side. The sad part is, most of us don't even realize it. This is nothing that can be conveyed in a couple of paragraphs, but something that must be experienced. Just realize one thing guys...we live in a work-oholic nation, don't ever forget that. If the opportunity ever arises for you, travel so you may expand your horizons. One way we can start to better define and appreciate the word "privileged." (I realize this argument is lacking in many fine points, but once I get back, I'd be more than happy to extend the conversation with you.)

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NOW...MY ACTUAL DAY:

So I started the day pretty late again, but it's okay, the night pretty much made up for it. I called the expat blogger I met on the internet, Yohan, to set up a time to meet up with him. We're supposed to meet up tonight at the Dick Turpin's pub. He said I can't really miss him because he has an entire arm tattooed and he wears a skull hat....but he's a gentle guy, according to himself. This should be interesting. Then I called my friend Nick. I asked him if he was still planning to go the House of Parliament tonight. He said he was and that he'd meet me there after 9pm. 

I have been meeting a lot of new people and getting a lot of numbers, so I decided it was time to get a french cellphone. I asked Nick where I could get one. He told me the Meriadeck, which is a shopping mall a couple of blocks down where I live. So I walked on over there, and to my surprise, it was actually a shopping mall, just like the states, albeit not as big and it also had a huge department grocery store inside. Anyway, I walked into the cellphone shop and sat down to talk to the salesperson. The french rolled out. It was good practice. We had a relatively long conversation, and in between our conversation, a couple from the Netherlands walked in who didn't speak any French. So, I acted as a quasi-translator for them as they spoke to me in relatively good English as I translated it into relatively broken French, lol. It was good times and below is a picture of my first French cellphone:

  

At the mall, they also had these walking platforms (you know the ones you normally see at an airport), but they were used as escalators, which is something I've never seen before. I'll make sure to upload the pictures of the mall onto my flickr page for you guys. 

After the mall, I went home and started entering the new numbers I had collected into my french cellphone. This was cool, I thought, I'm accessible now! Afterwards, I got ready to go out to the House of Parliament as my night would start out there. (Yea...I woke up pretty late today.) 

So I got my stuff together and walked downtown. Lim, the English bartender was off tonight and was instead having drinks with his friends outside on the patio. I could tell he was getting ready to either do a pub crawl tonight or get wasted, as he already looked like a had a number of drinks. I greeted him and then walked inside and met Etna, the Irish lady from the other night. I ordered a Corona and sat next to her at the bar. Of course, her Golden Retriever, Sandy, was there with her. We chatted it up for about an hour as I waited for my friends to meet me at the bar. The bartenders tonight were different. Tonight, the bartender who had gotten my Corona for me was an English girl named Alison. She is a red head who lived in England until she was about 8 years old and then moved to France where she has been living here for almost 20 years. She came off friendly in a very calm and confident manner. I talked with her for awhile and came to find out that she spoke several languages including English, German, Spanish and Chinese. She was/is a linguist. What was interesting, however, was that her personality kinda crept up on me. As more and more time passed and I began to observe how she talked and carried herself. I found out that her personality was quite charismatic and funny, and then it hit me...I was becoming slowly attracted to her. (Personality can go a long way, don't ever forget that girls. Broads are a dime a dozen, but a great personality is priceless.)

After awhile, my friend Andy, the English duder from North Hamptom, walked in with his money ready in his hand. He got a beer and we went outside so he could smoke. We chatted a bit and then Nick showed up. We went inside and sat down at a table. After awhile, Ester, a really cool and down to earth Spanish girl (from Madrid) showed up with Tammy (the really outgoing and charismatic German girl I mentioned in my last blog). Then came Yolita and her Lithuanian friend. Yes guys, believe it or not, Europe is much more of a melting pot then the United States claims to be. Later on, one of Ester's friends, a Bulgarian girl joined us. We drank and chatted it up. Nick, however, started feeling bad, so he had to excuse himself to go home. (I have a feeling, however, that he probably went to meet up with the cute Spanish girl that he met the other night.) After Nick left, Andy decided he wanted to get pissed tonight (English for "get drunk"). So, the rounds of tequila begun. I had already drank a couple of beers, so this was not good news. I'm not much a of liquor person, but Andy said that if I refused his drinks or anyone who bought me drinks that night, it would be very insulting. Well...as much as  I hate liquor these days, I didn't want to disrespect my new friends, even though gaining their respect meant getting drunk and possibly doing very very bad things, including risking my life. But all went well. Later Lim, the bartender, joined us and was obviously...having a good time. Very interesting character this dude. Following him, the two Nick's joined our table. These guys are 2 New Zealanders. In Europe, and abroad in general, New Zealanders are called "kiwis." It's after their national bird, and it's not derogatory at all, they actually prefer being called Kiwis. One of the Nick's had spent a year working in Bordeaux, at the Cambridge bar, where the American Nick works, and was supposed to leave tomorrow to go back home to New Zealand before he leaves to live and work in England for another 2 years, but unfortunately he got pick-pocketed the night before and so his plans got pushed back. In addition, his laptop crashed on him, so now he's stuck here for a bit before he leaves. Regardless of the unfortunate events, he was in a jolly mood, as he explained that worrying didn't solve anything. (I think it might have helped that he was pissed drunk as well.) 

Tammy, Lim, Ester, and the California Sunshine

At this point, the bar was packed with people inside and out. We drank some more, laughed and then I stopped in my tracks and thought to myself....I want to hang out with Alison. So I got up and walked to the bar. Alison saw me and walked towards me and asked if I wanted a drink. I said, "Hey Alison, do you guys have cranberry juice?" Yea, she said, of course. "Great, get me a beer then." She gave me a devious smile and walked away. I think she thought I was joking, so I remained in my position and waited for her to swing by again. She came up to me and said, 'were you joking or did you actually want a drink?' No, I really want a beer, I said. She smiled. Okay, she replied, what can I get for you? "What's your favorite beer?" She named it. Cool, I said, now what's your least favorite beer. She named it. "Great" I said, "get me that one." She smiled and went to get me the beer. "Hey Alison, do you now where the miroir d'eau is?" Of course, she said. "Great, I want you to do me a favor," I said. What? she replied. "I want you to go and ask your boyfriend for permission to be my tour guide and take me there." (This is actually a cool attraction I need to see before I leave Bordeaux.) "I don't have a boyfriend" she said as she smiled. "Ok" I said, "then when should we go?" I pulled out my french phone to get her number and then she went to the bar and came back with a piece of paper with her name and number written on it. I stuck it in my back pocket and before I left and I leaned over the bar and told her, "There's one requirement, however, if you want to be my tour guide," I said. "What's that?" she asked. "You better bring some humor with you."

We continued drinking at the table and then 2 o'clock hit and that bar started to shut down. We all went outside and Andy and I were craving some Kebab's big time. (Kebab's - not the Iranian kind - is like a fast food middle eastern thing here in Europe that's actually quite ubiquitous wherever you go.) It was quite a ruckus outside, and I took a video to show it to you, but honestly the video doesn't do justice to what was really going on. To sum it up, however, there were a lot of people on the street in front of the HOP (House of Parliament pub) and young french guys singing drunkly in unison, a lot of smoke and unfinished drinks! Andy and I ran over to the kebab shop and by the time we got there, the shop was closing down. (So sad.)

Tammy invited us over to her house so we could continue drinking over there. (She had tequila at her place. Man...I abhor that drink!) On the way to her house, the girls went and got the guys some food, and I must say they did a pretty damn good job of it too, as they got everyone authentic french-style pizza, beautiful baguette sandwiches, some coca-cola, and some really exquisite desert! (The desert was awesome!)

We went to Tammy's house and she turned on some music, which woke up her roommate who came down and seemed very agitated about what was going. The party continued. We started with Radiohead, then my "chill" playlist on my iphone (As I went to plug in my musique, Andy was like, you guys trust him, he's a DJ! lol, right) and then we transitioned into some old American musique of Tammy's and eventually some mellow electronic musique made by one of Tammy's favorite german producers.) It was a good night as well talked and laughed, I got to know the two kiwi's better as we talked politics and about the movie zeitgeist. (They had asked me if I had ever watched movie and I was thinking to myself...c'mon I should be asking YOU that, lol!) It was great night. I got to hear about Tammy's travel's all over the world, and in fact, not just her, but everyone in the room seemed to be so well traveled! I have to admit I really enjoyed getting to know Ester, the Spanish girl, she's real...you know? I got to appreciate how charismatic Tammy is too, her personality is carried through her smile, it's awesome. 

I got up to leave some time after 4 in the morning. Tammy kindly suggested that I could spend the night there, considering I live on the other side of town, but I decided to go home. Let me tell you...the walk home was really eerie. Bordeaux in the wee hours of the morning looks like one of those zombie video games where there are all these old stone buildings (and a lot of them old and soot colored over the years) and not a sound or a person in sight (Well...except one bum I saw sleeping on a mattress on the side of the road, but that was pretty much it.) It's SUPER eerie. 

Well...I need go get ready now, I'm supposed to meet Yohan soon. Until the next post!

Day 5

A lot interesting surprises last night! First off, if I haven't said it already, I must say it now. There are a lot of iphone users here! I could have just gotten a french sim card and plugged it into my iphone, but the caveat with that is your iphone must be unlocked. (Mine isn't...)

So I started my day late, again. I'm about waking up around noon-ish so I can make sure I'm ready for the cleaning lady, but then it takes me a quite awhile to write and update the blog. But it's good, I enjoy it. So, after I was done with this, which was about 6pm, I got ready to go meet Yohan, the french dude I met on the internet from the expat site, at the Dick Turpin's pub downtown. He had told me that it would be easy to spot him as he has a sleeve tattoo on one arm and wears a skull hat (which happened to be actually just a fedora with a picture of a skull on it). He texted me to let me know he was there and that he was sitting outside. He had a party to go to last night, but instead he decided to meet up with me, which was really nice of him. 

On my way there, I took a picture of the cathedral to point out something to you. Remember I had said in my last blog that only recently in the last 4 to 5 years or so Bordeaux was becoming blooming city? To illustrate this, I took a picture of one of the main Cathedrals to show you what I mean. If you pay attention, half of the cathedral has been cleaned and restored in this picture, and the other half has not been. 

Likewise, there are many buildings in Bordeaux that have been cleaned and some that are still soot colored.

Moving on. So, I got there and I met him for the first time, told him to wait a second while I went inside to get my Corona and then came outside and join him. As I got to know him I started to realize that I was actually meeting a really cool guy. (I was lucky.) This is him below at Dick Turpin's:

We spoke English at first, just so we could get to know each other well and then I asked him to speak English to me, while I spoke French to him (so we could both practice). It was really cool getting to know him. He's a freelance photographer who likes working in Bordeaux, focusing on doing wedding pictures for English speaking folks around the region as well as travelling abroad to take pictures. He loves kiwis and showed me some pictures he had taken when was down in New Zealand. He happened to go to the place where the movie Lord of the Rings was shot and took pictures of the area including a picture of him standing next to Bilbo Baggins hut/house with a sign in his hands saying "Don't be jealous." (It was a pic he took for his friends.) For those of you who don't know, Lord of the Rings was shot in New Zealand. His website is:

www.yohanterraza.com

It's both in English and French, so you could easily visit and navigate through the website if you care to take a look at some of his work. He also told me how to spot out tourist and how not to look like one. (Thank you Yohan.) Afterwards, we went to go eat. He took me down some side streets where we eventually reached an area of downtown I had never seen before. There were so many shops, cafes, restaurants and people! Amazing, I thought, there is still so much for me to see. He took me to a restaurant called Bisto Urban which serves an eclectic menu of french food, most interestingly...french hamburgers. The restaurant had an ambiance of one that reminded me of some small restaurants in San Francisco. There was light house musique being played in the background mixed in with the more popular pop songs. We ordered some wine and beer and had a 3 course meal. It was so darn good. Here's some pictures:

My appetizer. It was some type of sausage in some delicious sauce wrapped in lettuce. 

My French Hamburger 

Some kind of desert that involves rice and milk. We have something very similar to this in Iranian Cuisine. 

After we had our scrumptious meal, Yohan called his younger brother as we were to meet him at a cafe, called PDG, with his friends. And...we did. I met Francois, Yohan's brother, and Francois' two friends, a guy and a girl. At first, I must say, it was a tad akward because they only spoke french and I think they became a tad apprehensive when I came there. So, there was a lot of silence in the beginning as they smoked and we drank our drinks and I kept ogling at an exquisitely beautiful french girl sitting next to me at another table. In fact, there were many beautiful French girls there. Surprise, surprise, right? Yohan, however, was doing a good job meanwhile carrying the sole conversation for the group. After a while, I thought it was only best that I participated in the conversation somehow. So I did, and they eventually opened up. One of the friends told me he was studying medicine and wanted to practice family medicine. I asked him if I had an American accent when I spoke french. He confirmed. I've been told the American accent is cute in French. I hope this is really true. I could use a little cute right now while I'm in Bordeaux. There was also a number of lesbians there too. They were cute too. (Yohan had told me this particular cafe was a hot spot for lesbians for some reason.) After our beers, Yohan ordered some Jager Bombs. The drinks came and we did our cheers (sante, in french) and drank. I made a miscalculation at this point. I decided to drink the Jager Bomb like it was shot. As we put our glasses down on the table I noticed mine was empty and everyone else had just taken a sip of theirs. They all stared at me. It was awkward. "Je vous ai offense?" (Have I offended you? I asked in French). No No, they insisted after a moment of silence.  Good for you, one said. To cover my tail, I told them, this is how we drink in the United States, I'm sorry if I offended you. No No, they insisted again. Francois, I suppose in an act to comfort me, picked up his Jager Bomb and downed it. We all smiled and continued the conversation.

After a while, Francois' friends left and Yohan had went to the bathroom. In France, when you meet people (doesn't matter for the first time or not, or whether boy or girl) you exchange kisses with them on the cheek. I'm used to this, as we do this all the time in the Iranian culture, albeit you only do this with people who know in the Iranian culture, not with people you just met. At anyrate, I exchanged kisses with the dude and the girl and they wished me farewell. I talked to Francois a little bit. I found out he loves the NBA and plays basketball himself. He even showed me a picture of his girlfriend. She was beautiful. 

We picked up our things and headed to one of Yohan's friend's bars. 

When we got there, there was no one at the bar except the manager, Seb (short for Sebastian) and the owner and his friends were in route to leave. Seb, pulled out some tables and leather chairs for us onto the patio area. It was like VIP treatment. He made drinks for us on the house, all night. We first started with a really strong shot that had slices of lime in it, then we had some pina coladas followed by some malibu mixed with pineapple juice. (The last one was my favorite.) Seb was blasting musique loud for us (I felt really bad for the neighbors. - all these pubs, restaurants, and shops are siting directly below apartments.) Initially, there was no one as we had the entire bar to ourselves. For awhile, I thought Seb was keeping it open just for us. He sat down with us and talked for a long time until more and more people came, which made him busy. I offered to help him, but he said he had it under control. I looked at his DJ setup and asked him if I could play a song. He said sure. I turned off the french musique and layed down Michael Jackson's "Whatever Happens" one of my favorite songs. They all seemed to like it, minus the 3 lesbians who were pissed drunk and were swearing at each other and on the verge of getting into a fist fight. Seb had to keep them in check and threatened to kick them out almost 3 times that night. Speaking of lesbians, there were also two other french lesbians there (a separate party) who weren't "model" beautiful or anything, but for some reason were very attractive to me. In the words of David DeAngelo, "Attraction is not a choice." It's true if you think about it. One of them had  tattoos covering her chest area, and for some reason, it was so sexy. She came over and talked to Yohan for a while, because she was enthused by his sleeve tattoo. (It so happened that they got their tattoos done at the same parlor.) Aside from the tattoos and everything, I think it must have been something about their aura or something, I don't know, I can't explain it. Interestingly enough, the one with the tattoos also looked and smiled my way a couple of times.  

Then, all the sudden I hear yelling, again. Apparently, some boy (dude looked like a girl to me) at the table where the family was sitting (the two french lesbians were also apart of this table/family) was being yelled at by another customer for defacing her bar. (I guess he had written something inappropriate on her walls or something.) Then the two french lesbians (and I'm sorry, if I knew their names I would use it, trust me, I just don't know them, but I need to distinguish them somehow for the sake of my explaining the story) came in to ameliorate the situation, which they did. My attraction grew even more for them. 

The night went on and people we're having a good time. Then...something happened that has become the highlight of my trip so far! A Canadian girl and her friend, who I think is actually English came to the bar. I heard them speaking English and immediately got their attention. We asked them to sit down with us. One of them went inside the bar to order some wine and other sat down across from me and we began to talk. I asked her if she spoke French. No. Well, do you speak any other languages? I asked. Well, I speak a little bit of Farsi. FARSI!? I exclaimed with my eyes almost jumping out of their sockets. I told her I was Iranian and that I also spoke Farsi. We ended up speaking Farsi to each other for half an hour! It was amazing! Here was this white Canadian girl speaking Farsi! She's from Vancouver, Canada (a place heavily populated with Iranians), however she currently works in England. Her vocabulary was rich and she could understand everything I was saying. I was pretty much speaking at full mast (= full speed) and she kept along quite well! She knew about Dough, the Iranian yogurt soda (which she likes - which is amazing considering it's an acquired taste that most foreigners are not delighted by), Iranian dishes and deserts like Gaaz. She even knew about Rumi! Rumi is probably the most famous Iranian poet who lived a thousand years ago and who has gained a lot of widespread recognition and fans all over the world recently. All this, and she had only spent four years learning the language. She must have an amazing memory. (The fact that she's a linguist must also help too.)

Her friend joined her and we talked about a lot of things, such as atheism and Sam Harris, shoes and Rick Steve's. (Okay, these are things that I talked about...but they were nice enough to show interest, lol!) I have to say though, I really really liked talking and meeting these two girls. They exuded such good vibes! Keep doing what you do you too, you're awesome. 

At the end of the night, Seb drove Yohan and I home. I really like Seb. He was a great guy and great host. I'm supposed to introduce Yohan to my other friends tonight, we'll see how that goes. Also, I really need to take the time to go to Le Bassin d'Arachon which is where a lot of the beaches are. I also need to get up earlier...

Oh, I have to mention, I used the bathroom at Seb's bar and I've never seen such a thing before. Check it out:

Make sure to check out my update pictures of flickr! Alright, till the next post!

Day 6

Another great late start, lol. Why great? Because I found the "Do Not Disturb" sign! Finally, I can sleep in with no aggressive knocking from the cleaning maid. Money.

I got my stuff together and decided to head to the Meriadeck (the shopping mall near where I live) to see if I could find a man purse (or a "murse"). I think that's the best way to go here while abroad. My pockets are too bulky with my iphone, french cellphone, camera, keys, map, pen, change (tips for the bartenders - they have 1 euro and 2 euro coins in Europe that make them nice for tipping), etc. Pick-pocketing can be a common event in Europe, depending on where you are. I normally have a pouch that I put my wallet in. I stick the pouch inside my pants near my crotch. On top of that I have a fake wallet with an old ID and some accessible (yet small amount) of euros so I don't have to keep reaching down in my crotch area every time I want to pay for something. I take these measures to make sure I'm not a pick-pocketing victim. (I'll be damned if that was to happen to me. It's more likely that I pick-pocket someone than it happen to me. But, you never know.) At any rate, this routine that I've explained, it's still too involved and my pockets are still bulging because of my other items. 

"Why why don't you leave the iphone at home, you don't use it" you ask?

It's a great prop to use when meeting people. I like to show people pictures to illustrate points and stories. Also, I'm coming to the realization that my 5 megapixel iphone camera actually takes better pictures than my 14 megapixel Canon PowersShot. (My friend Andy, the English guy I met, says that having more megapixels doesn't correlate with having a better camera, it's a myth, according to him. He does photography as a hobby.) 

As for the other items...I use the pen for getting people's number's and writing down things that I think are important. I use the headphones for listening to musique and a french podcast. So, basically these are things that I need. Now, it's actually quite common to see guy's wearing murses here. I tried wearing my carrier bag, but I feel like it's too big and it hinders my mobility in bars and restaurants. Murses can be very small and fit all your essentials.

So here I am at the Meriadeck to find a murse. As I enter the shopping mall I walk into "Auchan" (pronounced "Oh Sean" - like the American name Sean). Auchan is kinda like Target, in that it's a big department store that pretty much has everything, including food. I took some pictures of things that really caught my attention:

If you notice here, the price tags are all digital. I've never seen
anything like this in the states. What a great way to save on paper.
Kind of a "Green" move if you will.

I've seen so many people here wear the NY symbol. I took this
picture just to illustrate it's influence in the things people wear
and use. (I rarely see any San Francisco or LA apparel.) 

These are posted outside and inside Auchan. If you are to walk
into Auchan with a plastic bag from another store, for example,
you need to first put that bag into one of the bags seen here
and use the machine to seal the bag. This is one measure Auchan
takes to help decrease the amount of thefts. 

I didn't find a murse today that I liked. I left Meriadeck and headed downtown towards the waterfront. I had some time to kill before 8:30pm (or 20:30 french time) where I was to meet Yohan at Dick Turpin's so I could introduce him to Andy and Nick. I decided to walk the waterfront going the opposite direction I took last time (which had taken me to the skate park and later, the outlets). As I was walking I came across a huge mumbo or salsa dancing lesson being held on the waterfront. It was quite a scene as it was held outside where there was 1 instructor on a mic and hundreds of couples dancing and listening to his instructions. This a picture from that event:

"Danse avec nous, Bordeaux" was the name of the program.

 I walked further and I reached the "oh so talked about" miroir d'eau (water mirror) of Bordeaux. This a place where a thin layer of water coats the ground and gives you a mirror effect. Unfortunately, there were many children playing in the miroir d'eau, which obviously took away the mirror effect. I'll try to come back at an earlier time, when there's no kids to take a picture. Below is what it looked like with kids:

The mirror effect ruined by people having a good time. (Sheesh, lol)

There was also some teenagers playing some live musique by the miroir d'eau. The drummer was wearing something like a storm trooper mask from Star Wars and the musique in general was like mellow dubstep. 

I proceeded on down the dock and took some pictures of the beautiful scenery. For the sake of space, I'll just upload those onto the flickr site for you to see.

I took a seat on a bench by the dock and pulled out my book. I read. The book made some good points...

It was time to go meet Yohan at Dick Turpin's. 

I reached Dick Turpin's and outside at table was Yohan, sitting and waiting for me. I greeted him and sat down. We talked a little until Andy showed up. I introduced Andy to Yohan and went inside to get a drink. (I hadn't eaten anything but a bowl of cereal all day and I was starving, but we had to wait for one more person before we went off to dinner. Nick.) 

Inside was Hugo, the bartender I meet the first night I went to Dick Turpin's. I chatted it up with him a bit as I got my drink. 

I went outside to meet Yohan and Andy again. They were getting to know one another. We drank our drinks and chatted until Nick showed up on his bike. I introduced Yohan to Nick and then we decided to go find a place to eat.

You know...it's too bad I didn't even pay attention to the name of the restaurant we went to, because it turned out to be quite an experience. The restaurant had beautiful outside seating in a square where there were many other restaurants. All the restaurants in the square were packed with customers. We sat down and then came our rather snooty, but cute blond french waitress. Here's what I had for the night:

Les escargots. French snails. Tastes like chicken.

Duck. Dang...this was really good. The only thing left on this
plate was the tibia. (Or femur...whatever.)

This dessert is called "floating island" in English, because the
the main part of the dessert is floating on a creamy liquid.
It was a very light and delicious. 

I was taking pictures of almost everything, and Andy became a little surprised.

'We should take you to a fancy restaurant Pasha. You could take pictures there,' he said.

"Fancy?" I replied. "This isn't considered fancy?"

'No man...this is normal," he said seriously. 

I was flabbergasted. Here we were at a gorgeous square sitting at a packed restaurant, that to me, was beautiful, and all around me was exquisite food, and this was normal!?

This was another one of those moments where I realized that given the plethora of choices we have in the States when it comes to food, I can't help but think we really live in what we call a "fast food" culture. The more we care about speed and quantity, the more these people pay attention to taking their time and eating delicious and meticulously prepared food. My entire dinner (a 3 course meal) cost only 16 euros. No wonder this is normal. (Also, the tip is included in the price, yet another difference I noted between between the States and France.)

After dinner we went to the House of Parliament. Tonight they had a person doing cover song's of famous American songs on his guitar. The dude did a great job as he pretty much covered everything from Britney Spears to Lady Gaga to Radiohead (Creep) to Green Day and the Lion King (Circle of Life), etc. The fuse had popped in the place and so the electricity had gone out a few times (which meant the AC as well). The place was hot, both figuratively and literally. There were a lot of beautiful girls, but alas, all French. 

You begin to realize the power of language when you realize you can't fully speak it. (It's almost like you're a second or third rate citizen.) While I can get around France and carry trivial conversations with people, it's still difficult to exude your personality when your bound by a language barrier. However, excuses never did anyone good, it's just more of an incentive to fortify my knowledge of the language.

After several rounds of drinks, the guy's decided they wanted to head to the Apollo bar. We went. The Apollo was packed with people inside and out. Yohan suggested that we find a place where we could sit outside. So, we went to the PDG again. We had some drinks and enjoyed each other's company for a bit and afterwards we head home. It was a great night overall, but more mellow than previous nights. 

As we were leaving we made some plans to visit the San Dunes near Arachon the next day. Finally, it was time to see Arachon!

Till tomorrow's post!

Day 7

I got up today with the intention of going downtown and pursuing my murse hunt. I should have known better...

Apparently, everything (except some kebab places, bars and cafes) is CLOSED on Sundays in France. 'Man...this sucks,' I thought.

The only people walking downtown were obviously tourist who were just as naive as I was to the situation and some locals eating at some kebab shops. Speaking of which, I was starving at the time, so I decided to go to a kebab shop and have one myself. (I couldn't shop for a baguette or anything, the markets and Auchan was closed too...)

The kebab wasn't bad, but I think I haven't visited the best kebab joint in town yet. Kebabs can be delicious in Europe, and  like I've mentioned before it's the alternate junk food to KFC and McDo (McDonalds) here. Here's a pic of what it looks like.

Meat wrapped in Indian bread (naan) with the works.

After lunch I got a text from Andy to meet him up at the St. Aubin Pub. Today was the day that we were heading to the sand dunes near Arcahon. I meet up with Andy and we sat outside and ordered a couple of cokes. Our waiter was wearing a kilt and I couldn't help but ask if he was actually naked underneath. (Supposedly, when one wears a kilt you always go commando.)  

He parted his kilt and showed me his thigh. Yup, he was definitely naked. He then turned to Andy and raised his kilt and exposed his penis to Andy. 

Andy and I chatted awhile while we waited for Nick. Apparently where we were going also had a beach. This was an bittersweet realization as it made the prospect of the day even more interesting, but made me also realize I was wearing jeans and that my enormous beach towel was back at my apartment on the other side of the city. Even though Andy was driving us to Pyla, our destination, which is about 45 minutes away from Bordeaux, he wasn't ready to make a quick stop on the other side of town to pick up my gear. Apparently, driving through town is "quite a mission."  Too bad I thought, but I was happy to be going on this trip to Pyla and Arachon anyway. 

Nick arrived and took a seat. Andy ordered a dessert before we left. I took a picture of his dessert as I thought it was really interesting. It cost 5 euros and included a shot of espresso, ice cream and some different cakes. Apparently, this is a common thing to have around here.

I also took a shot of the Tramway to point out something. A few years ago when these Tramways were installed in Bordeaux they became the first Tramways in the world to be run by electricity from the ground (through the rails I suppose) as supposed to getting electricity from electrical lines running above that run the length of the tram route (like in San Francisco and it's Muni). They come around every 7-8 minutes, are apparently never late and cost about 1.40 euros per ride. Here's a pic:

The Tramway in the background. 

We all got up and left to Andy's apartment so we could jump into his car and head towards the sand dunes. Once we got to his neighborhood, I noticed how tightly packed the cars were parked against one another. Honestly, these cars were only inches apart from each other. If you aren't an extremely good parallel parker here, you won't survive for too long. Another thing I've been noticing in general here is that the average car is a 2 door and pretty small. Maybe this is just true of where I'm residing, because I have seen 4 door cars. As far as SUVs go, there's pretty much aren't any unless where talking about Mercedes or small Japenese SUVs.  

We hopped in and left for our destination.

We hit a good amount of traffic getting there, but once we got there...it was quite beautiful. The sand dunes in Pyla are amazing in that they surrounded by a beautiful beach and miles of forest. Here are some pictures of us going up and down the sand dunes to the beach along with the miles of forest that surround it.

The walk through the forest to get to the sand dunes.

The beginning of the sand dunes.

On top of the sand dunes. The sand dunes are completely covered
by forest on one side and ocean on the other. 

At the ocean at Pyla, right below the sand dunes. 

We spent a good amount of time at the beach. Andy and Nick jumped in the ocean and I followed suite in my boxers. After our swim, we sat down on the beach and took in some sun as the weather was beautiful. After a few hours past we made the notoriously hard hike back up the sand dunes to get back. Man...what a long and steep incline hiking up in sand. We had to take several breaks on the way up, but once we got to the top we ran like crazy and jumped into the air as we descended down the other side of the sand dunes. It was like a organic roller coaster ride! 

We got to the bottom of the hill and went inside a restaurant to get a few cokes. We sat down and relaxed awhile before we headed to Arachon. 

The drive to Arachon was nice. The region is a beautiful area and reminds a little of Shomal (an area of Northern Iran) were we used to go in the summer's to relax at my grand parents summer house near the Caspian Sea. 

We drove through downtown Arachon (a modestly small area) to find a park (a parking spot). Arachon was packed with tourist and locals. We walked around on the beach there and through it's small downtown. Strange enough, everyone was walking around and eating ice cream. (The ice cream must be really good there or something as the line to the ice cream shop was long the entire time we were there.) After an hour or so we decided to get a bite to eat. We walked up to a small shop which sold different kinds of drinks and sandwiches. 

I think the person behind the cash register knew we were foreign and tried to mess with us as Nick went up to order his food. It was funny though. The guy looked at Nick and blurted some French really fast before any of us could comprehend it. Nick's instantaneous reaction was to say "Okay" while looking straight at the guy. A number of French teenagers, include Andy and I, laughed when this happened. Who knows what he was saying, maybe something along the lines of:

"Hello you piece of sh** American, if you order food from here I'll make sure to spit in it and serve it to you so you can choke on it." (God knows if this is what he really said or not, I'm just making things up.)

"Okay," Nick replied in English while smiling at the guy.

It was epic. Everyone laughed. (Except the guy.)

What was even more epic was that we ordered 3 bacon cheeseburgers and fries and ate it next the ocean. If that didn't scream American, I didn't know what could have. 

Here are some key pictures from Arachon:

Entering the beach of Arachon.

Sunset at the beach of Arachon.

Downtown area of Arachon.

Downtown Arachon. 

Epic burger that wasn't so epic tasting.

Downtown Arachon at night.

As we got up to leave, Andy needed to used the restroom. There were some public restrooms available, but they cost 5 euros to use. (Yes, that's what I thought.) Andy decided to take the alternative route, which was to take care of his business behind a car near where we parked. Unfortunately, he wasn't aware that he was pissing next to someone's car while the driver was still inside talking on the phone. Priceless. 

After this, we went home. Night time in the summer here is deceiving as it doesn't get dark till around 10pm. We got home near midnight, even though it felt like 8pm.

Well, till the next blog! (I've added more pictures of Arachon and the sand dunes at Pyla on my flickr page.)

Day 8

Man was I tired today. I got up today and updated the blog and then went straight back to bed. (This is probably around 4pm). If it wasn't for my hunger, I probably wouldn't have gotten up to do some shopping at Auchan. 

I didn't realize how big Auchan really is till today. It's 3 stories tall and pretty much sells everything. I was in line about to buy my items when I noticed that I forgot to bring my carrier bag to put my purchases in. I quickly looked around and saw everyone had brought their own bags. I tried looking for an alternative solution. I noticed they were selling big reusable Auchan grocery bags near the counter and so I thought that would be my only option to save face in the situation. A few seconds past and then I spotted some green regular plastic bags (like the one's we get back in the states at Vons or Safeway) as well. I picked one up and notice there was a bar code on the bag. They were for sale (0.03 euros), not free. It did the trick.

I got home and made myself a sandwich and plopped on my bed to pass out again. Yo (Yohan) had texted me and let me know that he was going to get a drink downtown, and dared me to come. 

"Three days left of my trip" I thought..."I can sleep when I'm on the plane." (Not really, I can't sleep on planes.)

I decided to muster all the energy I could and get ready to head downtown. 

As I was walking towards Cathedrale Saint Andre, the huge cathedral that has served as my landmark around town to orient myself as to where I am, I thought to myself..."I never even got to see the inside of this darn thing...and its so big."

As I walking past it, I noticed that today the big doors to the cathedral were open. I couldn't help but go inside. Like most European cathedral's I've been to, it was an architectural marvel inside. Here's a couple of pictures: (I'll load the rest onto flickr)

I took this picture from the entrance of the cathedral.

I took this picture from the inside looking toward
the entrance. Notice how big the organ is. It's massive!

 After I took some pictures, I resumed walking downtown so I could meet up with Yo. I was walking up Rue St. Catherine when I noticed Celio, a store for men's dress and apparel that Andy I told me about. This is a place, he had told me, where I can find a murse. 

I walked inside and lo and behold, the first thing that hit my eyes were a couple of murses. Then, Yo texted me and was wondering where I was. I told him and so then he met me at the store. I ended up buying a brown leather (or at least I think it's leather) murse from Celio's. This is what it looks like:

My murse (man purse, lol) I bought it from Celio's.
Who knows, I might even use this in
the States when I get back.

Yo also bought a shirt from Celio's and then we left for a drink. He took me to a new area of downtown I hadn't seen before. On the way he pointed out a kind of bourgeois movie theater that Tom Cruz and Cameron Diaz visited, for whatever reason, when they were visiting Bordeaux. (I think they might have done a movie here together or something.) This is what the movie theater looks like:

The movie theater that Tom Cruz and Cameron
Diaz visited while they were in Bordeaux. 

We took a seat at a cafe/restaurant across from the movie theater and ordered a couple of Heinekens. 

Before I go on with my story, I have to say that one of the differences between the States and Bordeaux is the plethora of these outside cafe/restaurant/bar areas that dominate the streets here in Bordeaux. There are always all types of people, young and old, eating, drinking, smoking and just chilling in these places. And the culture here seems to be one of drifting from one cafe/bar area to another throughout the night for the young people. It's really cool, and I think this is one of the major things the United States is lacking. When you visit Europe and come back to the States you start to realize how CONSERVATIVE the States really are. It's like I was saying before, we might have a higher standard of living over in the States, but not necessarily a higher quality of life. (I think recently it was reported that 57.7 million people are depressed in the States. I wonder what the stats are over here in France.)

Anyway, I took out my little pocket book and had Yo update me on some colloquial french language expressions that I wasn't aware of before. (I also got him a little pocket book so I could do the same for him in English.) I highly recommend doing such a thing when you travel to a country. This is what my pocket book looks like:

My little French pocket book. I keep updating
this with new expression I learn in French.

We finished our drinks and went to the center of downtown to catch some dinner. Dinner was not bad this time, but not as good as the previous nights. However, I did have froie gras, which is a french delicacy. It basically means fatty liver in English and it is made from the liver of duck of geese that have been force fed. I know...really sad. (I forgot about the force feeding part, or wouldn't have ordered it.) This is what force feeding looks like. 

A geese being force fed so it
can be later prepared for the
French delicacy Foie Gras (fatty liver).

The restaurant was packed with customers (as was the entire plaza really). Our waitress, a dark featured brunette with long hair, was either in a really bad mood or extremely tired. It was probably a combination of both as she was later yelled at in a very embarrassing manner by her manager. She was told to leave and come back tomorrow. She went outside and sat on some stairs and took a smoke. She looked down, but she was one of those resilient sorts. Her manger came out and yelled at her again and then went inside. After awhile, the girl got up from the stairs went to entrance of the restaurant (which was really no more than the kitchen and a cashier stand, because the restaurant seating was all outside) and yelled "WHORE" at her manager. She then proceeded to go back and sit down on the same stairs near the restaurant to continue her smoke. I don't know what happened in between, but later on she continued her work. See...that's what I mean by resilient. That sheer confidence of this girl was admirable and kinda sexy. I went up to her later when she was sitting on the stairs again and asked her if she was tired. She said "Moi?" with a tired smile. I put some euros in her hand and told her it was for her. I didn't necessarily appreciate her service or anything, but I've been a waiter before and I always feel for waiters and waitresses. It's a tough job. I forgot to mention that the electricity for the restaurant shut off a couple of times throughout our dinner and they were short staffed and so we had to wait for an hour dinner for a super long time. They made up for it by giving us complimentary drinks at the end. Not too shabby.

Marine, a pretty young and outgoing french girl, joined us as we were finishing dinner. She's Francois' (Yohan's brother's) ex-girlfriend. She didn't speak English so it turned out to be a good opportunity to practice my French. She used the word "gave" (pronounced gav-eh) a lot. It is the equivalent in meaning to the word "hella" in english that we use in NorCal. If you were to use this word in Paris, it would be like using the word "hella" in SoCal. It just doesn't fly over there, it's a distinctly Bordeaux-laise expression. The three of us went to another bar for a drink. I've been going to so many different bars and cafes that I'm really losing track of the names...

I found out that she, like a lot of other young french people, is pretty well traveled. She had just come back from Spain and had a nice tan going on. She told me she has traveled across Mexico, Tunisia, Egypt, Turkey and of course across many different European countries. That's another thing I've noticed here. There's a huge travelling culture here in Europe. It must help that they have a very good train system throughout Europe. That EU passport must do wonders. In fact, I learned that if you are an EU citizen you can pretty much work in any European country without a work permit. That must be very helpful. I remember last time I was in Paris I was talking to an English dude on the train who was explaining to me that it was very common for people from England to work in France for the day and vice versa. You sleep in one country at night and work in another during the day. Nice!

After that bar we went to the PDG, Pharmacie de Garde, the bar I had met Francois. I introduced Marine to a Jager Bomb. She liked it! Yo and I had a couple of white russians, which was also pretty good. We talked and chatted there for awhile before we left. 

I went inside to pay the tab and there was Sara, the tall and pretty lipstick lesbian bartender. We spoke in English as I talked to her about San Francisco a bit. She got really excited when I mentioned San Francisco. She has just returned from a trip from SanFran and she seems to adore that place. I taught her my snap handshake routine and she liked it. I went outside to meet up with Yo and Marine. We walked home together (Marine had a bike, but she walked it with us). After we parted ways with Marine, Yo went over and rented a bike (you can rent these bikes for 1 Euro - they all over the town parked at these little bike areas), so he could bike home. He came with me until my apartment and then left. It was a pretty mellow, but sweet night.

Here's Yo on one of those rented bikes:

Yo on the 1 euro rent a bike. It's about 2am-ish in this picture.

I'm supposed to go on a wine tour on Wednesday. Let's see what happens! Till the next post.

Day 9

So the bleak realization is starting to dawn on me that my trip is coming to an end soon. Two days from today I will be leaving for Paris, and then the United States. Back to the library, back to studying, back to bad ergonomics (no pun intended there).

The wine tour didn't work out as it was confirmed to be booked and as you will find out, the weather took a turn for the worst.

Anyway...today, I rolled out of the apartment around either around 4 or 5 pm (16:00 or 17:00 hours french time) and headed downtown. The weather today started out as sunny, at least when I woke up, and then tuned overcast. As I started walking downtown I started to hear thunder. 

Thunder...?

Okay...I can handle thunder in this 70 degree weather, as long as it doesn't rain. (It kinda reminded me of Mexico.)

I decided to walk to downtown so I could do some last minute souvenir shopping. Suddenly, I could feel a little sprinkle of water here and there on my face. 

Okay I thought...I can handle a little sprinkle and thunder, as long as it doesn't rain...

As I was walking outside I noticed the entrance to what seemed to be like a shopping mall. I had always seen this entrance, but it was normally closed by the time I came around to it (probably because I've always been starting my day late). 

I decided to walk in and sure enough it was another shopping mall, like Meriadeck, albeit a little smaller. 

Well...I shopping a mall is a shopping mall, so nothing interesting here I thought. I walked out of an exit door and continued on my projected path towards the shops on Rue St. Catherine. 

Suddenly, the sprinkle of rain turned into a slow but consistent rain. I can handle a little rain and thunder, I thought. As long as it doesn't start pouring.

I think you can figure out the end of this story...

It started pouring like it was no one's business. All the sudden, the streets were flooded with water and I tried to, like most other people, take temporary refuge in a store. Here's a picture I took from inside of a store. The road outside was covered with 1/2 inch of water within 5-10 minutes.

It was pouring hard outside!!

When I walked in, I was soaking wet, like many other people. (It was kinda embarrassing as I was making their floors wet.) I had to stick around in the store with many other people as we watched the rain take over the streets. Only after 45 minutes or so was I able to leave the store and walk onto the streets. 

I went inside the FNAC store, which stands for something ridiculously long I've been told. This is a rather big store, with 3 stories and it sells everything from computers, music, books, electronics of all sorts and many many other things. Here's a couple of pics I took in the store:

FNAC

FNAC

On the 2nd floor of FNAC I came across a wall which seemed to be an exhibition of pictures from the Middle East. I looked a little bit closer and noticed the pictures were very familiar. Then it hit me...these were all pictures of Iran. Apparently, these pictures were put up as an exhibition on this wall. All of them were taken by a man named Paolo Woods who has traveled to Iran a number times apparently wanted to show his perspective of the Iran he is familiar with. I took a few pictures of the photos that were put on exhibition:

Models in Iran (I suppose)

A very horny dude in Iran

The Iranian Michael Phelps' of tomorrow

A picture of the Green Revolution which
(is) happening/happened in Iran.

Apparently they think something's funny.

After FNAC, I went down to St. Aubin's cafe/pub by la gloire de la victoire (a popular hang out spot for student's during the year - Bordeaux is a college town - and also next to Bordeaux's medical/dental school.) I was feeling like having a Cafe Gourmand all day long, so I decided to order one. It was good. Cafe Gourmand apparently changes everyday (in regards to its ingredients). My Cafe Gourmand today had a lot of fruit. Here's a pic:

My Cafe Gourmand. Kind of a casual/modest order in Bordeaux.

I called up Andy to come and join me at St. Aubin's as happy hour had just started. He had just come back from the beach so he needed to take a shower first. So, I ordered a beer and waited for him. He later joined me and ordered a beer as we waited for his girlfriend Cecile to join us. Cecile came and we chatted it up a bit as Andy and I finished our beers. We were supposed to go meet Tammy and Ester at the Cambridge for some dinner before we went over to Johannes birthday party. (Johannes is a guy from the Netherlands who teaches in Bordeaux right now. I meet him the first night I met Andy and Nick at Molly's, the pub/restaurant Nick works at.) He's a really cool guy and a great photographer. He's been all around Europe and has taken some beautiful pictures of SoCal that he has posted up in his office area in his apartment.

But...before I get to Johannes and his birthday party I have to say I was quite impressed with our dinner. It wasn't anything special (in terms of french cuisine or anything) but instead I was amazed by the sheer volume of food that we ate. We all ordered bacon cheese burgers that came with potato wedges and salad. We're talking about American portions here. (I might even dare add that the burger was even bigger than the normal American burger). Man it was grub time. None of us could finish our plates. 

Ester was working tonight at the Cambridge, so she served us, but couldn't chill with us (except for when she took her dinner break). Nick, the kiwi I met a few nights ago, and Machik (I think that's how it's spelled), a Polish guy who's finishing his Master's in English (also another guy a met a number of nights ago) were working back in the kitchen. I went to go say hi to them both. 

I really like these two guys. (As in they have set a good impression on me.) Nick for his happy-go-lucky demeanor and his optimism despite some of the recent unfortunate events that happened to him and Machik for his perpetual big smile. (Behind every smile, I believe, is a lot of power my friends. Try to smile more in life. Don't believe me? Check this out: http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/ron_gutman_the_hidden_power_of_smiling.html )

Tammy, Cecile, Andy and I left for Johannes apartment. Half way there we realized there were no open liquor shops in the vicinity to pick up some wine to take to the party. 

I ran back to the Cambridge and bought some white wine from the bar so we could be sure to contribute to the party. 

Johannes lives in an apartment on top floor. The stairs to his apartment are lined with red carpet, made from stone and are very spirally. Once we entered the apartment it was a like a "auberge espangnole." Apart from referencing a popular french film, I mean to use the term here to depict the multitude of nationalities that were present at this party. It was really interesting to see this, I mean, talk about diversity. They weren't all European either, as there was one person from Haiti and I even think Johannes girlfriend might have been Iranian. 

Everyone was drinking and having a good time. Johannes even showed us some of his photos, which he had elegantly made into a book. His camera, which he used to take some pictures of us, cost thousands of dollars. It was quite an amazing piece. 

We eventually left the party and started walking home. Tammy was extremely tired and decided to just hop on her bike to go home. Cecile, Andy and I walked about half way before we split our ways.

Overall, it was a nice night. We are all supposed to meet tomorrow night, as it is my last night. So, until the next post!

Day 10

Ahh...the last day of the trip. I didn't plan to do too much today. I was anticipating on going on the wine tour, but due to unforeseen circumstances it didn't happen. Instead I went and bought some souvenirs for the family including wine and chocolates (romantically generic, no?).

What would happen if I were to come back to my family with some Californian wines from Napa? That way I  wouldn't have to add all this weight to my luggage. I mean sure, why not? I could tell them, "Hey, the wine over there just isn't as good, so I thought I'd buy you the really good stuff."

Alas, even if that were to be true, such stoic reasoning normally doesn't prevail in front of family expectations. (When did it ever for anything?) To give my family credit, I could come back empty handed (except maybe something for my little sister) and they wouldn't mind at all. They're cool like that, but hey...how could one not bring back a couple (or 11) souvenirs? It's the least one can do for the hands that have made it possible to experience the wonders on the other side of the world. 

So...after shopping I came home and packed all my bags in preparation for tomorrow's earlier departure (well, relatively early - 10 am). 

Afterwards I went downtown to meet Yo for a drink. One of our conversation topics I thought was worthy of mentioning. 

Yo was comparing the price of living in Paris and Bordeaux, with Paris obviously being much more expensive. He mentioned, however, that within a number of years (maybe under 5) a new train system would be installed that would minimize the already 3-4 hour trip between Paris and Bordeaux by train to only 2 hours, which would ultimately mean a lot of people would be working in Paris, but live in Bordeaux. What does that mean? Real estate in Bordeaux will sky rocket, making it even more expensive to live there. Now to put things in perspective, traveling from San Francisco to LA is about 6.5 hours by car without traffic. Driving to Bordeaux from Paris is about 6.5 hours by car as well (I googled it). So, I couldn't help but think why we can't do the same between SF and LA back home. Other than the big car companies and their investors wanting to make it such for their own greedy ambitions, is there really any other reason in the way? I mean sure, California is bankrupt NOW, but what about before when it wasn't. The railway system in Europe has always been heralded as the wave front of transportation technology, and theoretically speaking there shouldn't be any real reason why California would be incapable of matching or surpassing Europe's railway system technology, so the question still remains. 

Andy was going to join us shortly, so to kill some time Yo and I went inside the apple store. The new Lion operating system is clutch, I have to say. I believe my next laptop will be a Mac. The new OS has the ability to play apps. (Now that's technology integration.)

Anyway, Andy and his girlfriend, Cecile, showed up. We went to dinner at an Indian restaurant to celebrate my last night. Ester and Tammy unfortunately couldn't make it. Nick showed up half way through our dinner and finished Cecile's leftovers, lol. 

Cecile had to leave after dinner because she needed to wake up at 5:45am for work the next day. I hugged and kissed her fair well and she welcomed me to stay with her and Andy upon my next visit. That was nice of her. (Same goes to you guys if you ever come my way.) 

Afterwards, Andy, Nick and I went to the miroir d'eau while we waited for Marine to join us for drinks at Charles Dickens. The rest of the night was just good times, spending my last moments with my new found friends. I really appreciate you guys, all of you.

I returned home and called Samantha, a new 1st year dental student, who wanted some advice on purchasing dental loupes. I think it was about 2:30am at this point in France and 5:00pm in Cali. She was getting to know her new classmates at the Fox Theater & Bar at the moment I called, but we still had a good conversation and I told her my experiences with the whole loupe buying process. I remember when I had to purchase loupes during my first week of dental school. It's a big $1000 commitment. Hopefully she ended up choosing the right ones for her. 

Well, tomorrow I board the train for Paris. It's been good Bordeaux, it's been real. : )

Till tomorrow's post!

Day 11 & 12 - The Last Day & Departure

(And a trip's lesson)

So today I took the train to Paris. The train ride wasn't too bad and once I reached the Montparnasse train station in Paris I took a taxi to my hostel. 

I had quite the luck today with picking a taxi driver. He turned out to be a very nice guy who comes from Algerian origin (same as Zidane, the famous French footballer who is world re-known for his soccer skills and his head butting ability). We had a nice long conversation in French while he drove me to my hostel from the train station. He was nice enough to point out important attraction sites as he drove and overall kept a very welcoming and kind demeanor.  

I let him know that I only had one night to spend in Paris as I had to leave for the States the following day. He was nice enough to suggest picking me up from my hostel the next day so I didn't have to find a cab in the morning. I thought it was a good idea, and so we agreed to meet at 10am in front of the hostel. He gave me his cell number just in case I changed my mind and wrote me down his entire name with it. It was a really nice gesture. 

Staying at the hostel was going to be, I imagined, the "uncomfortable portion" of the trip. I've stayed at a number of different hostel while I traveled across Europe during college, and while I did meet a number of cool people through the hostels and had some nice accommodations in a few, overall, I have to say that staying in one is really not that ideal. 

Hostel are nice in that they are the most agreeable solution to a student's travel budget and that they serve as a good starting grounds to meet people, but ultimately one does have to sacrifice a lot of privacy as you are normally in a room (generally with bunk beds) with at least 4-6 random people. Space is generally tight and the facilities aren't normally in the cleanest of conditions when we are talking about restrooms and especially showers. (Man I've been in some grungy hostels before...) 

I was staying at the "Absolute Paris Hostel & Hotel" which no means should include the world "hotel" in its title if you ask me...

I checked in and got my key card to my room. I had issues opening the door as it seemed like my key card wasn't activated yet. After numerous tries I finally heard someone come to open the door. I put a big smile on as I was about to meet my new roommate. The door opened and I was greeted by an Asian girl who said "Hello" to me quickly and then immediately turned around and went straight back to her bed (on the lower bunk) and put her night shades on. She must have been really tired or something because it was only around 4pm. 

Well, after that very peculiar welcome I put my things down and decided to take a nap myself before I headed out to explore Paris in the one evening I had.

...

I wasn't fully energized from my nap, because I was waken up by my ever growing hunger. I had only eaten two honey biscuits all day long and I was about to go crazy if I didn't eat something.

So, I left the hostel and immediately I saw a kebab shop. I went inside and ordered a kebab. 

Dang..it really hit the spot.

Afterwards I stepped outside to start my journey of Paris by foot. 

I tried to diligently trace my paths so I didn't get lost walking the big streets of the 11th arrondissement. Paris is split up into 20 arrondissements, almost like 20 neighborhoods. What's interesting about the arrondissements is that they start in order with the 1st arrondissement and then proceed in order in a spiral around Paris until the 20th arrondissement is reached. 

Anyway, as I was walking I had the tendency to look inside certain shops and offices. I noticed one particular one had a very Iranian-esque theme to it, mostly given away by it's numerous laid out Iranian Rugs. I looked at the sign and interestingly enough it was an Iranian Cultural Center called "Pouya." Pouya is a name given to Iranian males, and in fact one of my roommates from college and good friends is named Pouya. So, this one is for you pal:

Sign to the an Iranian Cultural Center I came across in my neighborhood in Paris.

An Iranian man was standing outside of the center. I walked up to him and started a conversation with him in Farsi. I asked about the center and also about some advice on what to do for the night. He was nice enough to answer both my questions. Midway in the conversation, some other Iranians came up to talk to the man. We exchanged hellos and then I excused myself so I could continue on my self-tour.

The man had suggested I visit Boulevard Saint-Michel in the Latin Quarter of Paris. He said it was a quite happening place for youngsters and not too far from where we were. So first I went and found a bar to sit at to plan out my route on my map.

I reached a rather bustling bar on the corner of a major intersection in the 11th arrondissement and sat down to order a drink. It took me awhile to plan out my route as my map covered the entirety of Paris, which is a very large city. After I faintly knew what I was doing I got up and left.

It took me a while to reach my destination by foot (getting lost a few times must have played a factor in that) and when I finally did I realized that I actually hadn't reached my destination, but actually the famous cathedral of Notre Dame. The cathedral was bustling with tourists and visitors, even though it was around 9pm. I walked around the cathedral and went inside where I watched a movie about its history. Here are some pictures I took:

Notre Dame

Notre Dame

The Cathedral was beautiful. On my way to the Cathedral I had also come across a number of interesting things, like the Opera house, the Bastille, a number of beautiful statues and even gas pumps in the middle of busy streets!

Gas pumps in the middle of a busy street!

However, one thing that really caught my attention was the boat tours on the Seine (the famous large river splitting Paris in half). The boats were huge and had hundreds of tourists riding on them. I couldn't help but take pictures and videos of these boats. After awhile, I thought to myself...why I don't I get one of these boats??

Luckily, that's what I did just in the nick of time. I found a boat company that was offering a ride at 11pm, the last ride of the night by any boat company there. The ticket cost me 12 euros and the ride was amazing! I saw pretty much everything, including Le Louve, the Eiffel Tower, the Parliament building, etc. etc (just to name a few, because we saw a lot!!). We rode under famous bridges and I took pictures of it all. I think if anyone has only a few hours to spend in Paris, this is the way to go. You see all the major attractions within an hour..

here are some pics I took:

People were drinking champagne on the boat...I wish I would have thought of that! I saw docked boats that were turned into night clubs with people dancing inside and other boats that were transformed to bars and restaurants on the water. There were SO MANY young people sitting on the Seine drinking wine and eating, talking, fooling around. What a lively and romantic city. Seriously, Paris seems to live up to its name. 

They're many things I did and saw that I wish to comment on in this blog entry, but I think you get the gist of it already, plus school starts tomorrow so I have to wrap this entry up...

I got home around midnight and upon entering my room I noticed my roommate had left the lights on yet was herself asleep on her bed with her night shades on. I thought to myself that perhaps she felt uncomfortable with only one guy sleeping in the room with her and left the lights on. So unfortunately, I left the light on as I went into bed to be kind. About an hour into my almost slumber a new roommate came into the room for the first time. I think this was around 1pm (that's hostel life for you). He dropped his belongings and got ready for bed. He also left the lights on as he went to sleep. This was torturous. 

After another hour I got up, set the bashfulness aside and pulled off my pants so I could sleep in my boxers. I also turned the lights off so I could finally sleep. 

I woke up early in the morning so I could get ready to leave. I was missing California and couldn't wait to get back home. I checked out downstairs and went to have breakfast. 

Normally at hostels, breakfast is a meal that is included. Breakfast was being served downstairs in a basement looking room that was made completely from stone. As I sat down to eat my breakfast in the somber looking room with the other few people who were there (including my Asian roommate who I noticed had her night shades propped on top of her forehead and had not brushed her teeth before coming down to breakfast) someone came and tapped me on the back. I looked back in curiosity as to who it could be who was greeting me this early, and I noticed it was my taxi driver, Nasim. He greeted me with a big smile and said to take my time with my breakfast as he would be waiting outside in his car. I was really amazed by what had happened. It was 9:40am (not 10am yet as we had planed) and he had come inside the hostel and found me in that somber ass basement of a cafeteria that was located down a rather creepy spiral staircase just to let me know he was ready outside when I was ready. Wow, I thought, what a nice guy.

I finished my breakfast and left to meet him outside. 

On the way to the airport we carried another good conversation in French and we got to know one another even better. He had told me that the next time I come to Paris to directly contact him with this cell number and that he would gladly take me around to wherever I needed to go.  At the airport embraced one another and exchanged kisses. (In middle eastern and french culture, this is customary, so don't trip.)

I was finally at the airport and glad to be going home. I noticed at the airport that at the gates there were computers setup for people to use (I guess to kill time) along with Play Station 3 consoles for anyone who wanted to play. I thought this was rather nice. 

I sat down and reflected on my trip. Things had gone by so nicely, and now I was ready to go home. I had humbly come to realize how much I need to work on my french and further more counted my blessings for having such an opportunity to do what I did. (I'm not religious or anything, but still I think it's important to appreciate your "blessings" so to speak, in life.) 

On my trip back home I meet some American students who had finished their exchange programs. Two of them were two black twins from Michigan. They had just finished a two month exchange program where they learned about French viticulture. One of there names was "Shocka" short for "Shockazulu." Now if that isn't tite! These were some cools kids, and I'm glad I got to talk with them.

In fact, just to draw on this point...if there's one thing I would want to convey to anyone who has been reading these blogs, it's to go out there...and make things happen.

I've met some incredible people on this trip and they have really enriched not only my trip overseas this break, but added color and life to my quest to do amazing things in life and meet amazing people all around the world. 

I am a student who had a 2 week break. I took those two weeks and I helped push my dreams into a reality. Sure I went alone to a foreign land, that's a tough feat for anyone. And sure I had a considerable amount of luck in meeting people, but I was also proactive and willing to make things happen. I think that's what part of life is about, acting on your ambitions and making them happen.

So thank you Andy, Yohann, Cecile, Nick, Tammy, Ester, Nasim, Lim, Alison, Etna, Johannes, Yolita, Seb, both the Marines (one on the train and one in Bordeaux) and all the other wonderful people on this trip. Your exchanges and timed shared with me have enriched my life and I thank you.

I leave you with this.

There are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other.
Desiderius Erasmus

An Update...

Johannes was nice enough to give me a more accurate description about the renovation process that went on in Bordeaux. Below is his account of the events. (Thank you Johannes!)

"The tramway was opened by Chirac in December 2003

All the renovation and stuff started before 2003 and was started by Jupé before he had to go and live in Canada for a while. 
Jupé came back and ran for mayor again in 2006. 
So this guy has been here for 1995-2003 and 2006-today. 

He's also the French minister for foreign affairs."

Speaking of the mayor...this is apparently where he works and lives! I used to pass by this pretty much every day!