Good, I say. I think that love locks, that couples use to
Showing posts with label Paris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paris. Show all posts
Friday, May 29, 2015
Paris gets tough on the love locks
French officials will remove the love locks from several bridges because of the damages they are causing, according to an article by in the Local.
Good, I say. I think that love locks, that couples use todeface "show their love" on public structures, should be outlawed. It is not right to damage public property. Don't get me started on those who carve their initials into trees, either, whether the trees are public property or not.
Good, I say. I think that love locks, that couples use to
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Sunday, February 8, 2015
You know it's been a bad day when...
...as depicted in in the painting, after just minding your business, all of a sudden you have seventeen people hanging off your tail...
there's random nudity, a person (dead?) on the ground, and even worse,
part of your tail has fallen off.
Seriously, you're just being a devil, walking around with a weird, non-effective pitchfork that is missing the middle tine and the villagers get all snotty and start pulling on you. How rude.
This is the painting "Les Parisiens tirant le diable par le queue" by Jean Veber and it's housed in the Musée Carnavalet in Paris. It's worth a visit, especially since it is free and has many entertaining oddities such as this painting.
The problem with such a painting is that it awakens a bad case of what I call "teh* curiosity." Who can't look at this and think, what the heck is the back story on this? Did the devil kill the naked person on the ground? Why did the villagers think it was a good idea to hang onto his tail? Is this some literary reference or was the painter just whacked out on paint fumes? Is it even possible for a devil's tail to be pulled off? Darn you, painting! You have awoken a deluge of questions.
*"the" is intentionally misspelled.
there's random nudity, a person (dead?) on the ground, and even worse,
part of your tail has fallen off.
Seriously, you're just being a devil, walking around with a weird, non-effective pitchfork that is missing the middle tine and the villagers get all snotty and start pulling on you. How rude.
This is the painting "Les Parisiens tirant le diable par le queue" by Jean Veber and it's housed in the Musée Carnavalet in Paris. It's worth a visit, especially since it is free and has many entertaining oddities such as this painting.
The problem with such a painting is that it awakens a bad case of what I call "teh* curiosity." Who can't look at this and think, what the heck is the back story on this? Did the devil kill the naked person on the ground? Why did the villagers think it was a good idea to hang onto his tail? Is this some literary reference or was the painter just whacked out on paint fumes? Is it even possible for a devil's tail to be pulled off? Darn you, painting! You have awoken a deluge of questions.
*"the" is intentionally misspelled.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Dear weird statues:
Dear weird church statues:
I know from Art History class that for a very long period of time, the only acceptable subject of art of was religious themes. I also know that almost every object in the piece was meant to be symbolic. For example, the Virgin Mary's innocence and purity was often depicted by a white lily. During a visit to the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, I was assaulted by the full force of religious symbolism in art.
So, weird church statues on the church's facade, with this in mind, I would like to ask you: what on earth (or the sky, for that matter) is going on with you? Why is there a nude dude on a horse stuck between some buildings and a guy sitting on top of more buildings? That's not beginning to take into account the pile o' demons to the left of him. Even the sculpted men below are really confused about what's happening.
If you could just explain yourself, that'd be great. I'm sure that you have quite the backstory.
Sincerely, Around the Wherever
I know from Art History class that for a very long period of time, the only acceptable subject of art of was religious themes. I also know that almost every object in the piece was meant to be symbolic. For example, the Virgin Mary's innocence and purity was often depicted by a white lily. During a visit to the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, I was assaulted by the full force of religious symbolism in art.
So, weird church statues on the church's facade, with this in mind, I would like to ask you: what on earth (or the sky, for that matter) is going on with you? Why is there a nude dude on a horse stuck between some buildings and a guy sitting on top of more buildings? That's not beginning to take into account the pile o' demons to the left of him. Even the sculpted men below are really confused about what's happening.
If you could just explain yourself, that'd be great. I'm sure that you have quite the backstory.
Sincerely, Around the Wherever
 |
| Detail of statues, Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris |
 |
| "Yeah, even we're not so sure what's happening!" |
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
A Mannequin Amputee in Paris
During the September visit to Paris, I hauled my family to the Marché St Ouen/Porte de Clingancourt flea market in the north side of the city. I always enjoy visiting there, except for perhaps having to dodge pick pockets and the guys trying to sell cell phones (that might have just been pick pocketed).
I found a mannequin of interest. He's an amputee so I was wondering how to combine mannequin + amputee. I came up with "manatee" but that one was used already. Back to the drawing board.
I found a mannequin of interest. He's an amputee so I was wondering how to combine mannequin + amputee. I came up with "manatee" but that one was used already. Back to the drawing board.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Seen in Paris: Flavor Flav's inspiration
Remember Flavor Flav, an 80s rapper who wore a huge watch around his neck? Well, I think that his idea wasn't original. I saw this old clock in the museum in Paris and think maybe the Flav just took the idea in a different direction.
Monday, June 9, 2014
Yet another reason the love locks are a bad idea
You know those obnoxious locks that litter bridges, as a supposed sign of people's love? I wrote a bit of a rant about them here.
Here is one more reason they are a bad idea: they just caused part of a railing on a Paris bridge to collapse. Read more here.
They also damage the bridges, causing them to rust faster. People need to start thinking about the consequences of their actions. If they feel some sort of need to make a spectacle of their affection, how about doing something productive? For example, when an organization is trying to raise funds, it will often sell engraved bricks. Buy one of those. Don't put other people at risk because of your actions.
Here is one more reason they are a bad idea: they just caused part of a railing on a Paris bridge to collapse. Read more here.
They also damage the bridges, causing them to rust faster. People need to start thinking about the consequences of their actions. If they feel some sort of need to make a spectacle of their affection, how about doing something productive? For example, when an organization is trying to raise funds, it will often sell engraved bricks. Buy one of those. Don't put other people at risk because of your actions.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Hotel Review: Victory Galou, Paris, France
I think this review really should be called: Why It's Important to Either Book Ahead or to Spend More Time Looking for a Hotel Instead of Taking the First Available.
In February (! ha, it feels weird writing about a trip where we were so cold when it's hot now), friends and I took a trip to Paris. It was somewhat of a last-minute thing. The problem with last-minute trips is that they can be quite expensive and even difficult to book.
I was charged with finding us accommodations. I tried various hotel bookings sites and even tried Airbnb. I had about 3 days to find a place. Airbnb didn't work; all three people I tried said their places were not available, even though on their calendars noted that their places were available. I'm wondering if it was an issue that I was a new user on Airbnb and didn't have any references yet.
I then ended up booking a hotel. We wanted something close to the train station, where we'd be arriving via high speed train. I ended up booking at the Victory Galou.
Hotel Reviewed: Victory Galou
15 Passage Industrie, Paris
http://www.victory-hotel-galou.com/
The Victory Galou is indeed near gare l'Est, where our ICE high speed train from Germany arrived. It took about 10 minutes to walk to the hotel from the train station. Some other reviewers had commented that they felt uneasy about the route between the hotel and the train station. I didn't feel uneasy at all, but did find it to be hopping at 9 pm on a Friday. As in any place, I kept my head up and paid attention to the surroundings and I felt fine. It was kind of cool, in a way; there were a ton of hair and barber shops along the way and people were getting their hair done at 9 pm. Having lived in Germany for more than a month, I felt quite shocked to see people actually able to get stuff done after 8 pm (when most things usually close up in Germany).
I arrived at the hotel and found the staff to be very pleasant. I had called ahead of time to let them know that I would be coming in later; they have reception until 6 pm and if one will arrive after that time, one must call ahead to make arrangements. The lobby was cramped and the "front reception desk" was literally just a desk shoved into the lobby, with papers strewn all over it. The reservation was written in a book.
The room was, to be blunt, awful. It was very smoky and beneath that smell lingered the smell of mold. My eyes instantly started watering and the sneezing followed it. I aired out the room to no avail. The faux wood baseboards around the floor were made of some sort of cardboard material and at some points it looked spongy from moisture. The comforters on the beds didn't look particularly clean, either. I crossed my fingers and hoped there weren't any critters in the room.
As if the smell of cigarette smoke and mold wasn't bad enough, to add to the fun was the smell of sewer AND mold in the bathroom. The mold was actually visible in the shower. We kept the window cracked the whole time we were there.
The walls are also paper thin. We were treated to the sound of a couple arguing in the adjacent bedroom. In addition, the hotel lacks an elevator and has very narrow, winding stairs in which some of the treads seem spongy.
I would not recommend the hotel. I was dumb enough to book it and pay 100 euros a night (well, the three of us split the amount). This experience just goes to prove that it is better to book ahead for trips...or to be really good at finding a last minute deal, which I'm not. Thankfully, we didn't find any bedbugs, but my allergies were thrown into a tizzy with the mold and cigarette smoke. I'm just glad that we were out and about most of the time and spent very little time at the hotel.
Talk about creeeeepy! This guy was staring out at us from the wardrobe.
In February (! ha, it feels weird writing about a trip where we were so cold when it's hot now), friends and I took a trip to Paris. It was somewhat of a last-minute thing. The problem with last-minute trips is that they can be quite expensive and even difficult to book.
I was charged with finding us accommodations. I tried various hotel bookings sites and even tried Airbnb. I had about 3 days to find a place. Airbnb didn't work; all three people I tried said their places were not available, even though on their calendars noted that their places were available. I'm wondering if it was an issue that I was a new user on Airbnb and didn't have any references yet.
I then ended up booking a hotel. We wanted something close to the train station, where we'd be arriving via high speed train. I ended up booking at the Victory Galou.
 |
| Saggy bed, blankets of a questionable clealinesss. |
 |
| Bathroom: complete with sewer smells and visible mold. |
Hotel Reviewed: Victory Galou
15 Passage Industrie, Paris
http://www.victory-hotel-galou.com/
The Victory Galou is indeed near gare l'Est, where our ICE high speed train from Germany arrived. It took about 10 minutes to walk to the hotel from the train station. Some other reviewers had commented that they felt uneasy about the route between the hotel and the train station. I didn't feel uneasy at all, but did find it to be hopping at 9 pm on a Friday. As in any place, I kept my head up and paid attention to the surroundings and I felt fine. It was kind of cool, in a way; there were a ton of hair and barber shops along the way and people were getting their hair done at 9 pm. Having lived in Germany for more than a month, I felt quite shocked to see people actually able to get stuff done after 8 pm (when most things usually close up in Germany).
I arrived at the hotel and found the staff to be very pleasant. I had called ahead of time to let them know that I would be coming in later; they have reception until 6 pm and if one will arrive after that time, one must call ahead to make arrangements. The lobby was cramped and the "front reception desk" was literally just a desk shoved into the lobby, with papers strewn all over it. The reservation was written in a book.
The room was, to be blunt, awful. It was very smoky and beneath that smell lingered the smell of mold. My eyes instantly started watering and the sneezing followed it. I aired out the room to no avail. The faux wood baseboards around the floor were made of some sort of cardboard material and at some points it looked spongy from moisture. The comforters on the beds didn't look particularly clean, either. I crossed my fingers and hoped there weren't any critters in the room.
As if the smell of cigarette smoke and mold wasn't bad enough, to add to the fun was the smell of sewer AND mold in the bathroom. The mold was actually visible in the shower. We kept the window cracked the whole time we were there.
The walls are also paper thin. We were treated to the sound of a couple arguing in the adjacent bedroom. In addition, the hotel lacks an elevator and has very narrow, winding stairs in which some of the treads seem spongy.
I would not recommend the hotel. I was dumb enough to book it and pay 100 euros a night (well, the three of us split the amount). This experience just goes to prove that it is better to book ahead for trips...or to be really good at finding a last minute deal, which I'm not. Thankfully, we didn't find any bedbugs, but my allergies were thrown into a tizzy with the mold and cigarette smoke. I'm just glad that we were out and about most of the time and spent very little time at the hotel.
Talk about creeeeepy! This guy was staring out at us from the wardrobe.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Seen in Paris
From our February trip to Paris:
Seen at a furniture store. Don't the footstools like like something out of a Dr. Seuss book? I half expected eyes to pop out through the fur and the stools to start running around.
 |
| You say tarte flambée; I say Flammkuchen. Seen at Lidl. |
Seen at a furniture store. Don't the footstools like like something out of a Dr. Seuss book? I half expected eyes to pop out through the fur and the stools to start running around.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Un chien!
Look! Un chien!
I love that it's a French Bulldog and that this picture is from Paris. It's perfect.
Also, I love street posters. There so many interesting, odd, and even funny ones.
I love that it's a French Bulldog and that this picture is from Paris. It's perfect.
Also, I love street posters. There so many interesting, odd, and even funny ones.
Happy anniversary...to me! in Paree (Paris)
This weekend marked two months of my arrival here. How did I commemorate those two months of living in Germany?
I took a trip to Paris with some friends.
Well, okay, we planned the trip and it just happened to be this weekend, and I wouldn't throw some sort of celebration just for being here. That would just be silly.
It was such a change to spend a weekend in Paris, even though it was only 2.5 hours away by high speed train. I feel as if I'm starting tostumble settle into German life and am getting my bearings (well, for the most part). There are many rules, laws, customs, etc. here to follow, but (for the most part) they make things very orderly, safe, and (usually) pleasant.
I am becoming accustomed to living within those parameters (they're not bad, just different, and can sometimes have a steep learning curve) and am starting to shift my brain toward working within the German language.
Then we took a trip to Paris.
My poor brain! I know a few phrases of polite French but was unable to conjure up most of them when needed, or if I did conjure them, the phrases ended up being half in French, half in German in my head so I just spoke English instead because none of it would have made sense. I'm grateful that Spanish took a back seat for this trip. I think my head would have split if I had four languages bouncing around at once in there.
In addition to the language mess, I also felt totally overstimulated by Paris.
People thinking nothing about littering, en masse? Eek! Why aren't people sweeping the streets in front of their houses?! (In all fairness, though, it has to be super hard to keep stuff clean in such a populous city that's also teeming with tourists but has a finite number of trash bins). Oh, and the snogging and carrying on! Yeck. I'm so anti-romantic, but I could imagine that even mushy people would get sick of seeing people kissing all the time. Yes, Paris is romantic, but don't block pedestrian traffic to examine your loved one's tonsils, please!
There were things that I really have been missing, as well. Holy crow, there are stores that are open past 6, 7, or 8 pm? They are open until 10 pm? GASP. They are open on SUNDAY? THANK GOODNESS!!!
FREE TAP WATER, and I didn't even have to ask for it (usually I don't dare)?? I almost cried tears of joy.
It was fun comparing notes with my friends, who are both not from Germany but who are living here as well. They've been here longer than I have and also felt culture shock. We had a great time, but were all happy to be returning to our orderly environments in Germany. It feels peaceful after the hustle and bustle (and PDAs).
I took a trip to Paris with some friends.
Well, okay, we planned the trip and it just happened to be this weekend, and I wouldn't throw some sort of celebration just for being here. That would just be silly.
It was such a change to spend a weekend in Paris, even though it was only 2.5 hours away by high speed train. I feel as if I'm starting to
I am becoming accustomed to living within those parameters (they're not bad, just different, and can sometimes have a steep learning curve) and am starting to shift my brain toward working within the German language.
Then we took a trip to Paris.
My poor brain! I know a few phrases of polite French but was unable to conjure up most of them when needed, or if I did conjure them, the phrases ended up being half in French, half in German in my head so I just spoke English instead because none of it would have made sense. I'm grateful that Spanish took a back seat for this trip. I think my head would have split if I had four languages bouncing around at once in there.
In addition to the language mess, I also felt totally overstimulated by Paris.
People thinking nothing about littering, en masse? Eek! Why aren't people sweeping the streets in front of their houses?! (In all fairness, though, it has to be super hard to keep stuff clean in such a populous city that's also teeming with tourists but has a finite number of trash bins). Oh, and the snogging and carrying on! Yeck. I'm so anti-romantic, but I could imagine that even mushy people would get sick of seeing people kissing all the time. Yes, Paris is romantic, but don't block pedestrian traffic to examine your loved one's tonsils, please!
There were things that I really have been missing, as well. Holy crow, there are stores that are open past 6, 7, or 8 pm? They are open until 10 pm? GASP. They are open on SUNDAY? THANK GOODNESS!!!
FREE TAP WATER, and I didn't even have to ask for it (usually I don't dare)?? I almost cried tears of joy.
It was fun comparing notes with my friends, who are both not from Germany but who are living here as well. They've been here longer than I have and also felt culture shock. We had a great time, but were all happy to be returning to our orderly environments in Germany. It feels peaceful after the hustle and bustle (and PDAs).
 |
| This trip wasn't a roller coaster but we did feel as if we had ridden the carousel a few too many times. |
Saturday, December 24, 2011
When in Paris/Brussels/Amesterdam
From December 14, 2008
I recently returned home from my week-long trip to Europe with my friend K. We had a great time and saw many interesting things, including many, many hookers, a church in the attic, a crazy flea/antiques market (puces!), chestnuts roasting over an open shopping cart, "coffee" shops, Post-Impressionist paintings, a statue of a little boy peeing that is supposedly world-renowned (um, I hadn't heard of it before), a huge atom sculpture with a restaurant inside, etc.
Plus, I now have a potential husband in every port that we visited, it appears. In Paris at the flea market, I was grabbed by the hand, kissed on it, and kissed on the cheek by a pseudo-French dude (I doubt that he had legal resident status there) who wanted me to take him home to America with me. He also kissed K's hand, too, so she didn't feel left out (he probably wanted to cover all of his bases). I declined to pack him in my suitcase and bring him home with me, but I did buy a pretty freakin' cool hooded sweatshirt there so I could fondly remember my "husband" (actually, I had planned to buy it anyway).
In Brussels, we were walking through an obnoxious restaurant quarter where the servers try to sweet talk people into the restaurants. We were just passing through to get to the other side of the road (just like the chicken jokes go) and a waiter opened his mouth to start his spiel. I didn't want him to waste his breath and I didn't want to hear it anyway, so I told him, "no thanks, we're not hungry." He cried out, "No, that's not what I want; I'm single!" K and I laughed really hard at that one.
Finally, in Amsterdam, K and I were walking around the Red Light District, which also conveniently hosts Chinatown. We were in search of rangoons for her because she had a mighty fierce craving for them. There were two really loud, rambunctious dudes walking in front of us. They were ebullient, exclaiming something and singing. One of the guys leaped into the air, grabbed my arm, and said something very happy. I hypothesized that he either had just experienced some very good luck (if you know what I mean) or was pleasantly surprised by the amount and variety of ladies of the night in that quarter. Either way, I really wanted no part of it as I am not part of the selection, but whatever.
In other words, it was an odd, but interesting trip.
I recently returned home from my week-long trip to Europe with my friend K. We had a great time and saw many interesting things, including many, many hookers, a church in the attic, a crazy flea/antiques market (puces!), chestnuts roasting over an open shopping cart, "coffee" shops, Post-Impressionist paintings, a statue of a little boy peeing that is supposedly world-renowned (um, I hadn't heard of it before), a huge atom sculpture with a restaurant inside, etc.
Plus, I now have a potential husband in every port that we visited, it appears. In Paris at the flea market, I was grabbed by the hand, kissed on it, and kissed on the cheek by a pseudo-French dude (I doubt that he had legal resident status there) who wanted me to take him home to America with me. He also kissed K's hand, too, so she didn't feel left out (he probably wanted to cover all of his bases). I declined to pack him in my suitcase and bring him home with me, but I did buy a pretty freakin' cool hooded sweatshirt there so I could fondly remember my "husband" (actually, I had planned to buy it anyway).
In Brussels, we were walking through an obnoxious restaurant quarter where the servers try to sweet talk people into the restaurants. We were just passing through to get to the other side of the road (just like the chicken jokes go) and a waiter opened his mouth to start his spiel. I didn't want him to waste his breath and I didn't want to hear it anyway, so I told him, "no thanks, we're not hungry." He cried out, "No, that's not what I want; I'm single!" K and I laughed really hard at that one.
Finally, in Amsterdam, K and I were walking around the Red Light District, which also conveniently hosts Chinatown. We were in search of rangoons for her because she had a mighty fierce craving for them. There were two really loud, rambunctious dudes walking in front of us. They were ebullient, exclaiming something and singing. One of the guys leaped into the air, grabbed my arm, and said something very happy. I hypothesized that he either had just experienced some very good luck (if you know what I mean) or was pleasantly surprised by the amount and variety of ladies of the night in that quarter. Either way, I really wanted no part of it as I am not part of the selection, but whatever.
In other words, it was an odd, but interesting trip.
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