30DC8: Places I've Lived

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Hong Kong – I was born and spent the first 8 months of my life here, where my family is from. Aptly described by Michael Kors as "Beverly Hills on steroids," Hong Kong is a vibrant and exciting place that requires a certain level of street-smartness to survive in.  In fact, months before I visited Hong Kong for the first (and so far, only) time when I was 10, my mom and aunts prepped me for weeks about how to navigate through dense crowds, how to find a seat on the subway, how not to mess my clothes up eating street food, etc.!  It's also where Cantonese is widely spoken - a dialect that is not pretty to listen to at all but is very close to my heart, because it's very colloquial and cheeky. :) Being from Hong Kong also creates a unique cultural identity in me, because my entire family (with the exception of my younger cousins) were born there when it was a British colony.  I've found that it's nearly impossible to describe to people who don't share a similar situation what it means to be bicultural - especially, I've personally found, if they're from Europe.  And for me, my situation is even more complicated because I grew up in Canada!  Which brings me to my next place...

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Toronto – I grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, which are safe and peaceful. I’m very proud of being from Toronto, and I self-identify first and foremost as a Canadian. In fact, I've been known to raise my hackles when people sh*t on Canadians. :P I’m now back living in my hometown after stints in the following places:

Vote for Me!!!

Please click on this picture and vote for me! :D

Hi guys!  Have just gone on a much-needed break after finishing NaBloPoMo last month (which I'm very proud of!) and then...a host of really tough RL situations have descended upon me.  Regardless, all of you are the bright spot in my life, and I'm still here, I'm still writing, and everything is still on track. :)

I don't know how many of you have been on my YouTube channel, but I've been meaning to relaunch it for a while, just like how I relaunched this blog.  Video is a medium that I absolutely adore and love to play around with, so this is something I'm really excited about!

In fact, I bought my MacBook Pro precisely for all the multimedia tools it comes with, and actually, I'd been procrastinating in producing content for my channel because I was trying to figure out how to use everything, re-learning how to edit, etc.

Lo and behold, came the kick in the butt I needed: Shoppers Drug Mart was holding a video contest for their new makeup line, Essence!  Essence is an affordable makeup line that I've actually had a longtime relationship with - I first started using it when I was an impoverished student living in Nice, and it was one of like, three brands of makeup that I could actually afford.  I was really excited to hear that it was coming to Canada, and of course, I had to take part in the contest!

I had to create a summer look with Essence products exclusively, and film a video tutorial on it.  It was a lot of fun to do, and it really forced me to familiarize myself with iMovie.  The result is at this link; please go have a look and vote for me!!!  I need 25 unique votes to be considered by the judges and by my estimation, I'm getting close.  Please, please vote!!!

I hope you like it, and I can't wait to interact with you guys more via YouTube!

XOXOXO

Entitled to Happiness

Something finally managed to kick my butt out of my self-pitying jag.

What I'll Miss About Madrid

As per tradition, I'm doing my nails on a Saturday morning early afternoon after waking up and munching on chocolate-topped butter cookies, while David Tao is making love to my ears.  I can listen to Just Friends (普通朋友) on repeat for hours on end while I do other things - paint my nails, knit, fold laundry, read... Youtube it if you've never heard it before.  You don't even need to understand the lyrics (it's about a guy's sadness that the girl he loves only wants to be "just friends" with him) - the melody is so beautiful.

As I step into the second half of my second last month here, I'm starting to feel a little sentimental.  It was the same situation last time, when I went to live in Nice - I have a love-hate relationship with living in Europe.  On the one hand...

Language Hubris

One of the things I love most about Spain is how welcoming people are, and, most notably, how there is no language hubris among them, unlike in France. 

Eating Well in Southern France cont'd

We have discourse! You know I love discourse – yay! :D My friend Katherine writes:

"I'll be in Marseille and Nice for about 5 days, combined, in the coming week or so. Do you have any restaurant suggestions?”

I personally didn’t go to Marseille last year, but I hear it’s awesome. Because it’s the second most populated city in France, I would suggest that you stay in Marseille for three days and Nice for two, or to stay in Marseille for two days, and stay in Nice for a day and three nights, taking a day trip to Cannes and Monaco each. From Nice it’s just a short train ride to Cannes (maybe less than an hour and about 9€?) and a super scenic, 1€, 40 minute bus ride to Monaco – and those two places are worth seeing.

Food-wise, I think you’d probably have better luck in Marseille, because as my general rule goes, the more populated a city is, the better the quality and cheaper the food is. In Marseille, you of course should have some bouillabaisse (fish stew), since it’s the regional specialty. However, it’s pretty pricey; I have it on good authority that you shouldn’t pay less than 35-40€ for a decent bouillabaisse, and some people even insist that you should only visit places that requires you to reserve the day before - but I have friends who were very satisfied with walk-in experiences. So that translates to $57-65 CAD, but it might make you feel a little better if you keep in mind that it’s a total meal – the soup and then all the ingredients in it.

In Nice, I’d definitely go to the place I just mentioned, of course, and another absolute must-go is my favourite bakery. Formerly known as Boulangerie de France, now I think it’s either called Gosset or Cosset or something – the sign is a little ambiguous – but it’s located right beside 82 rue de France, on the NW corner of rue de France and rue Andrioli. Don’t mix it up with Le chant du pain, which is two doors east of Gosset. They have all kinds of beautiful sandwiches, and the earlier you go, the more choices there are. I highly recommend the pan bagnat, a niçois specialty, with tuna, hard-boiled eggs, anchovies, olives, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, fresh tomatoes, and lettuce in between a delicious bun. It’s also great value – about 4 or 5 euro and it’s enormous! But most importantly, you MUST, MUST, MUST have their pain au chocolat (aux) amandes. A pain au chocolat is a chocolate croissant, but this version is far superior because above the layer of chocolate, there’s a layer of almond cream; it’s not so much a cream as it is a sort of fine, grainy paste. I can’t even stress to you how amazing it is. It’s way better fresh (go in the morning!), but even after it’s been sitting in the display case for a while, it’s still good. They are very generous with the almond cream, and the almond flavour just punches your taste buds in the guts. There’s less chocolate, but it complements the almond perfectly. It’s just incredible. And at 1.80€ a piece, I often had two at a time.

You may want to try out les farcies, les beignets, pissaladière, salade nicoise and le socca, other Nice specialties; there are plenty of places you can get them at in Vieux Nice (make sure you go there because there’s a lot to see, but not at night because it’s not the safest!) and they taste pretty much the same everywhere, but personally, they’re not my cup of tea. Les farcies are various veggies stuffed with fatty meats and onions and seasonings and such – it’s not bad, but pretty oily and not that great. Les beignets are pretty much just HEAVILY battered foods (onions, sardines, etc.) that are fried and often soggy with oil because they’ve been sitting for a while, and for the life of me, I’ve never been able to find fresh beignets no matter what time of day I eat them. Eating those are like drinking oil, and the sardines are super fishy and bony. Pissaladière is basically tomato sauce-less onion pizza often served with olives and/or anchovies, and salad niçoise is basically a pan bagnat without the bread - the only dish out of all these I like. Socca is a flat kind of bread-type food made with chickpeas, sprinkled with olive oil, salt and pepper. I don’t love it because A) it’s made of chickpeas so it’s sort of rough on the palate, a big no-no for Chinese tastes and B) it tastes like overcooked eggs without much flavour to speak of. But you may want to try it because it’s very typical Nice food, and I feel like I should tell you about these things so you have some basic knowledge of local cuisine. Oh, and because Nice is so close to Italy, there are an absolute ton of wood-oven pizza restaurants, but these pizzas are characteristically paper-thin, not spectacularly tasty and so not very filling or worth it, in my opinion.

Now, what else would I eat? I’d go to my favourite gelato place in the city, Crema di Gelato. There are tons of gelato places in Nice again due to its proximity to Italy, but after lots of tasting, I’ve concluded that this parlour is the crème de la crème. Don’t believe anyone who tells you that Fenocchio is the best – they have lots of choices, but the quality of their product is mediocre at best. Crema di Gelato has the best gelato in town, and they also have pretty little gelato cups (like in the picture) and gelato truffles. I always just get scoops of gelato because you get the most ice cream for your euro. I’d highly recommend the flavour Crema di Gelato, aka crème pralinée, which is vanilla gelato with what I suspect is Nutella gobs on top of it and sprinkled with crunchy pralines. It’s like a vanilla-based, gelato version of Ferrero Rocher and it’s divine. I also love their mint chocolate, hazelnut and caramel flavours. It’s a perfect ending to an Indian meal at the place I described in my last post, and they are located in Vieux Nice, right in the square of the Palais de Justice.

If you’re on a budget, there’s a so-so place right across from the Palais de Justice, the restaurant closest to the beach, that has this great value combo – a salade niçoise or another salad plus a pasta dish, one choice of which is seafood pasta. The salads were good, but the pasta wasn’t that great – but it’s 14€ (or was it 11?) for both.

If money is no object, I’d highly recommend going to Michelin-decorated Keisuke Matsushima, a very classy hole in the wall located at 22 rue de France right on the edge of the zone piétonne (also a must-visit in Nice), where I always wanted to eat at but was too poor to go to. They have seasonal menus, and you have to get their combo, which starts at 35€. For various menu choices you can upgrade if you’re willing to pay more, and I think for 60€ you can let the chef just do his magic and serve whatever he wants. If you do go, let me know how it was!


You might also want to have moules frites, which are mussels with fries. I think they’re nice but not great but worth eating. I’d suggest going to all-you-can-eat restaurants – there’s one in Cours Saleya in Vieux Nice that I don’t recall the name of, and one in the zone piétonne called Il...Borrotolo? Barratello? I don’t remember, but it’s somewhere on rue Masséna. Just look for stand-up signs that say moules frites à volonté – à volonté means all-you-can-eat. My beef with moules frites is that the mussels are often teensy, they don’t pull out the beards of the mussels, they don’t pick out the ones with yucky growths stuck to the shells, and the sauces are too salty, which makes you eat more fries and fill up faster as a result. But if you love mussels, they’re nice. I also hear there are good moules frites restaurants in Belgium. Anyway, the place on Cours Saleya offers I think maybe five flavours at 11.90€ (and you can try any of them) and a bunch of other flavours for 13.90€ - but in this case, I’d recommend being conservative since the basic flavours are the best, from my experience. The place in the zone piétonne offers just three flavours for 13.90€ but they are nicely done and like I said, basic flavours are the best anyway. There’s marinière, which is white wine with onions, napolitaine, which is tomato sauce, and poulette, which is cream sauce. I personally like the first two, not so much the third. I’ve heard good things about having moules frites in Monaco, but they’re not all-you-can-eat.


There’s also a decent Japanese restaurant in Cours Saleya, but it’s also a little pricey (18€ for a 14-piece set meal) and so not good if you’re a bigt eater like me. The quality is pretty good though, and the chef is actually Japanese. But if you don’t mind splurging about 20-30€ once, I’d also suggest eating at one of the beach restaurants because the Mediterranean is just a stunning backdrop. I’d recommend the restaurants Lido Plage, or Le Sporting. The beach restaurants in Nice are cheaper than in Cannes, but the shopping in Cannes is way cheaper, so I’d suggest eating in Nice and shopping Cannes.

Hope this info is helpful, feel free to ask if you have more questions and have a great trip! :)

How to Eat Spectacularly in Nice for 6€

There’s something about Indian food that sets off a craving in me every three weeks or so, like clockwork. One night last week at about midnight, my girl Ceci and I were chatting on MSN about Indian food, and it made us so hungry that we decided to get together for lunch the very next day. Although basically satisfying, it wasn’t drop-dead-amazing, but it called to mind fond memories of Nice, where I was living in very glamourous poverty – glamourous because I lived right by the Mediterranean where there were palm trees everywhere, and in poverty because, vacation-spot prices aside, a euro converted to over a dollar sixty Canadian at the time.

Because there was a three-month-long strike at my school (striking is a national sport in France, you know), I took to taking daily walks by the sea and into Vieux Nice. There was so much to see, and you just can’t do the same thing here in suburban Toronto because you can’t get anywhere without a car! It was during one of those explorations that I stumbled across Shiva Snack*, this tiny restaurant, literally a hole in the wall, right on the edge of the Old Town.

I’d walked past it several times, intrigued by the much lower prices for Indian food than other restaurants, but for some reason, I never went in until about a month before I was to leave the country. I was ravenous that day and nearly desperate for Indian food, which I hadn’t had in a while because I was so poor – a dish and naan or rice at other restaurants cost about 14€ on average. I ordered outside and was promptly showed to the entrance of the place, which I never even noticed because it was so inconspicuous.

When I took my girl Maggie there, she described it perfectly when she said that it looked like they found a hole in the wall and tried to make it as homey as possible. The back wall is a mirror to make the area look bigger, and all the other walls are draped in gorgeous textiles, no doubt from India. The tables are small but pretty, with colourful mosaic surfaces, and the most tantalizing aromas emanate from the open chicken. But the most trustworthy indication that this place is awesome is the fact that almost every time I walk past it, there are Indian people sitting on the seats outside, chatting with the people who work there, just eating and watching the world pass by. It’s a family-run restaurant, and they often have their children with them there. Their adorable little girl sometimes helps wait the tables there, and she’s so sweet, so attentive, alert and eager to please.


I have a soft spot for this restaurant because it was the only food I could afford to eat out and really enjoyed; my only other options were fast food (ew!), sandwiches (which get old fast) and paper-thin pizza, which I don’t love. There's nowhere else in the city that you can buy a full meal for an adult for just six euro - not even McDonalds! And the quality for price of their Menu à 6.00 is just out of this world.

For six euro, you get a complete meal: your choice of a tandoori chicken leg or a scoop of chicken tikka (hunks of perfectly-spiced, roasted chicken breast in the most delicious, savoury tomato sauce, like, ever) with a serving of fluffy basmati rice and a small portion of salad with delicious sesame dressing and a cannette (canned soft drink) – and you can pick Orangina without paying more! After a month of pitifully subpar home-cooking, it was a little taste of nirvana. During my last month in France, when I wasn’t in Paris, I went there probably around twice a week.

Because I’m a big eater, to say the least, the combo isn’t quite enough for me, but it’s perfectly satisfying for my friends with normal appetites. But then I discovered their naan (1.50€), which is excellent, and an order of that combined with the combo is just right for me. I love their naan because it’s even all around – I don’t like it when naan is thick on one side and thin on the other. They also make a tasty cheese naan (2€) that is more filling and flavourful and tastes good even on its own.


Apart from my girls Amra and Raissa, this restaurant and their combo are what I miss most about Nice. If I am lucky enough to go on exchange to Europe again in three years, like I want to, I hope I’ll get to visit them, and I hope their business would have grown by then, because they’re fantastic!

*A note about “snack” restaurants in France: They refer to grab-and-go establishments, sort of their alternative to fast-food restaurants, and they usually sell hot and cold sandwiches (baguettes and croque monsieurs, hello!), cold pizza slices, or kebab sandwiches. In Nice, most Middle-East restaurants sell kebabs (as opposed to doners or shawarmas). Shiva Snack piqued my interest because they have a variety if kebabs that are Indian-style cooked meat wrapped in naan – sadly, I never did try them, because I already fell in love with their Menu à 6.00 combo and once I like something, I can pretty much eat it forever.

I'm Home!

I am a changed woman after living in Nice for a year.

It was pleasantly disorienting to see all of the people and things and places that are very familiar to me, that I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was also strange eating all the things I’ve missed – after pining for my favourite foods for a year, they are somehow less delicious to me just because I know I’ll have access to them for a good while from now on.

Also, the first night I was home, I stepped into the washroom to take a shower before going to bed and nearly wept; I could hardly believe that I wouldn’t have to worry about not having hot water anymore! Not getting to take a hot shower in the dead of winter in an apartment where the central heat isn’t on yet is something else. I’ve also made the following discoveries:

*European boys are generally more smooth, polished, charming, interesting, cosmopolitan, multilingual and better-dressed than their North American counterparts, but

*I have a renewed appreciation for the relative conservativeness for my homeboys because I don’t have to worry about getting harassed every day when I go out

*the contrast between Major Brand Name Schools and public schools in France (and in the States too, I’d imagine) is so stark; more than ever, I’m grateful for the fact that all higher education institutions in Canada are public – I can’t imagine the despair I’d feel if I were at a disadvantage simply because I couldn’t afford to go to a good school

*“art deco” is apparently code for “old, disintegrating piece of crap” in terms of describing apartment buildings

*renting property in France is super, super sketchy and one must never rent a place with out-of-country landlords

*BNP Paribas is officially The Worst Bank in the World if their branches in Nice are fair representation

*Niçois post offices are the best places to learn how to swear in French, because even if you only have two or three people before you in line, the wait could be up to 45 minutes

*you learn to develop a sense of humour and an elevated state of patience from French bureaucracy – the other choices are to go mad or to move

*many French people – especially old ones – are charmingly honest and therefore politically incorrect

*growing up in Canada makes us a super aware and appreciative of different cultures – I’m super grateful for that as well

*Yellow Fever is a Very, Very Serious Problem in Europe

*Dutch people are very tall; my eye-level in the Netherlands is chest-level of all the locals

*the cultural atmosphere of Germany is very similar to that of Canada in that people are very laid-back and down-to-earth – but they are more punctual and their beer is better :P

*when there are Ferraris zooming around everywhere, a dime a dozen like in Monaco, they aren’t nearly as impressive

*living right on the Mediterranean with palm trees everywhere is just intoxicating

*I’m not done with Europe yet; I’m going to go back there to live temporarily again

It was an indescribably wonderful year – what a way to end off my undergraduate career! Now I’m home spending quality time with my mama, studying my tail off in the hopes of going through another four years of school. Wish me luck!

XOXOXO

Ignorance and Hammeredism

"The Chinese are taking over the world!" a new acquaintance hissed to me secretively today at the inauguration of the Canadian Embassy in Nice, "They're EVERYWHERE!"

This delightful conversation went on in the same vein for a good chunk of time until my friend Vince stepped in to save me from this eccentric lady and moved the topic from the overwhelmingly enormous Chinese population in the world to various aspects of Chinese culture.

I find that this type of make-you-wince-with-discomfort-because-you-can't-believe-people-are-saying-what-they're-saying conversation is actually not all that uncommon when speaking to many European people, particularly if they're a bit older. I'm not suggesting that all Europeans are ignorant, but many, especially the French, just don't censor themselves when speaking. Many believe absolutely crazy things wholeheartedly, and they just want to tell you about it. It's actually very honest in an almost charming way, if you don't get offended.

Over dinner later on that night, my friends asked me how it makes me feel when people say stupid things like that, and I realize that I didn't give them a very complete answer, because I was interrupted by our meals arriving.

It actually doesn't really bother me if I think or know that the person isn't purposely trying to insult me or my race or my culture. Often, they're just trying to relate to me, even if they might be doing an awful job about it. I get that some people are just ignorant, but they're not actually trying to be rude, so I'm ok with it. If they're not uncomfortable, I'm not uncomfortable, and I'll humour them. Besides, I can laugh about it later over dinner and it makes a great story!

And I know people like that won't likely ever get to appreciate awesome poetry like the following. Also written by the great 李白 (Li Bai), this poem urges readers to enjoy life while they can because time is fleeting. Now, at first it sort of sounds like he's only repeatedly telling everyone to go get hammered, which isn't entirely untrue, but it's actually more of a metaphor; this lonely, depressed genius always felt like his talents were not appreciated or utilized by the emperor, so he he derived his greatest pleasure from alcohol. Thus, drinking, in the context of his work, means enjoying life.

The translation is done by Professor Ying Sun of the University of Rhode Island, and "is intended to be idiomatic, apprehensible for western cultures, and rhyming whenever possible."

將進酒

君不見黃河之水天上來，
奔流到海不復回？
君不見高堂明鏡悲白髮，
朝如青絲暮成雪？
人生得意須盡歡，
莫使金樽空對月。
天生我才必有用，
千金散盡還復來。
烹羊宰牛且為樂，
會須一飲三百杯。
岑夫子，丹丘生，
將進酒，杯莫停。
與君歌一曲，
請君為我傾耳聽：
鍾鼓饌玉不足貴，
但願長醉不願醒。
古來聖賢皆寂寞，
唯有飲者留其名。
陳王昔時宴平樂，
斗酒十千恣讙謔。
主人為何言少錢？
徑須沽取對君酌。
五花馬、千金裘。
呼兒將出換美酒，
與爾同銷萬古愁。


Bring in the Wine (Li Bai, 701-762 AD, China)

Can’t you see the Yellow River coming from heaven,
Running to the sea with no return?
Can’t you see the mirror, high and bright,
Weeping over black hair at dawn, but white by night?
Enjoy life when there is prosperity.
Never tip a gold cup to the moon, empty.
Heaven has given me a gift and it’s my turn.
All my forture is squandered, but it will return.
Let's have fun - a feast with veal and beef.
Empty three hundred drinks before we leave.
Master Cen, Pupil Danqiu,
Bring in the wine and I'll keep pouring for you.
And I'll sing you a song.
Please listen and hum along:
The life style of the rich is all fake.
I’d rather stay drunk, never awake.
All sages in history were solitary,
Except those drinkers who left their glory.
When Lord Chen entertained in Ping-Le Palace,
Pricey wine was poured just for joyfulness.
Why worry about spending money, my host?
Bring in more wine and I’ll drink the most.
Take my spotted stallion and fancy fur.
Ask the lad to trade for the wine I prefer.
Drink away the eternal sorrow we all suffer.

Melted Chocolate Seduction

Is there anything more seductive than melted chocolate? (Besides, of course, a beautiful person drizzled in it.) It’s smooth, sweet, fragrant and robust. Satisfying. Best of all, it’s bad for you. How can anyone resist?

I sure can’t. Chocolate fountains and fondues get me every time. I don’t have regular access to either of those things, but luckily, I’ve found a worthy substitute: Chocolate “Muffins” from Le Chant du Pain, on the NW corner of Andrioli and Rue de France, in Nice.

I walked in one day, intending to get a chocolate croissant for my chocolate fix, when I noticed this beautiful concoction, seated in a perforated paper cup, with melted chocolate oozing all over the top. It was pretty much love at first sight. And not the sweet, romantic kind like I felt for my Spanish doctor, but the aggressive, dirty, animalistic, I-must-devour-you-right-now kind.

So I did. And it was amazing! Really fulfilling, just like I’d imagined.

What I especially appreciate about it is the fact that it’s milk chocolate – my favourite. The cocoa flavour is not as strong, but it’s creamy and very easy on the palate. And in addition to the lovely crown of the muffin, there are milk chocolate chips floating around inside, too. It’s so yummy!

But then I got a little confused - what’s the difference between a cupcake and a muffin? I always thought that cupcakes=sweeter=tastier=worse for you=far superior. And cupcakes are iced. But I’ve done some research, and apparently the answer can get quite complicated and involved. Some people say that it has to do with how it’s made, some say it has to do with the nutritional value, while others say it’s completely subjective.

Me? I don’t care. A rose by any other name, right? I’m just going to keep buying and eating my sweet, luscious treat.

Politics, "Owning School," Culture and the Commercialization of Education

I have a professor who loves to predict the death of many of my classmates whenever they tell her about their travel plans, particularly if they are going to places she deems unsafe, like Africa, Eastern Europe, and the Middle East.

I’m not a brave person. With the exception of Prague, I don’t have a very keen interest in going anywhere that might fall in those three regions. But when I signed up to come here to France on exchange, I never imagined that I would be in the thick of political unrest.

Many people here are very upset with the government because of a set of proposed reforms. The universities in Nice have been on strike for three weeks and counting; I hear that the momentum is still going strong, and that the strike will even continue beyond our reading week (the last week of February). As a result, I’m freaking out because I got conditional acceptance into a postgraduate program, and I need to have a degree before it starts in September.

My friends in this program are completely confident that I’ll get all the credits I need. “We PAID TUITION, so the school owes us marks. It’s not our fault that they’re on strike here. There’s nothing we can do about it. They can’t deny us our marks or our credits because we paid for them and we were prepared to do all the work necessary to earn them,” I’ve been told.

However, I’m not used to of feeling like anyone owes me anything. I’m entitled to nothing. While I appreciate their efforts to comfort me, I still think that it’s up to our school. We don’t really call the shots here. So I’m still really worried and am hoping, hoping, hoping for the best.

But this conversation really made me wonder: What kind of relationship am I in with my school? The way my classmates see it, it’s almost like they view themselves as the patrons, and the school as their employee. They paid for the academic institution to provide them with the service of teaching them, grading them and awarding them degrees. So they’re the ones who are in charge. They (we?) call the shots.

This is completely at odds with the attitude about school that was instilled in me. Modern Chinese culture is still pretty Confucian. Even as non-traditional as my family is, I was raised with many of those values. We’re all about filial piety and respecting our elders...sometimes to a point I don’t agree with, but regardless of the divergence of opinion that exists in me because I grew up in Canada, this is still The Right Way to Be in the back of my mind.

School is supposed to be where a person’s mind is cultivated, so teachers deserve our utmost respect, and we don’t question them. Consequently, the Chinese values of pedagogy are also very serious. Teachers have almost an equal responsibility to their students as their parents do because they play a vital part in how they turn out. Teachers were traditionally called 師父 (“sifu”), which is comprised of the words “si” (師), meaning teacher, and “fu” (父), meaning father – because, of course, back in the day all teachers were men. You’re supposed to respect your teachers as much as you respect the knowledge or the art they pass on to you.

Now, this would work very nicely if we were living in a Confucian utopia, where the lowest common denominator for every teacher in the world is, virtually (and impossibly), perfection - completely fair, super qualified, super intelligent, super ethical, very accomplished, etc. In that case, of course we wouldn’t ever question our teachers.

Unfortunately for us, it’s not the situation we’re in, or even a realistic one, so I think that to maintain this viewpoint about school and teachers requires a lot of faith on the part of everyone who has ever been a student, or who has entrusted the intellectual development of their child to an instructor. For those who are raised to have this attitude, they respect their teachers as much as they do because they trust that they will be completely fair, that they are qualified, intelligent, ethical and accomplished enough (that is to say, way more so than the average person) to merit their utmost respect. But the fact of the matter is, while there must be plenty of teachers who are this amazing and deserving, there are also lots of crummy teachers out there because, well, we can, essentially, purchase our qualifications, and we all do. Just like I’m doing right now. And I’m lucky to be Canadian, but there are countries in the world, like our neighbour down south, where the credibility, status and usefulness of our qualifications depend on how much money we can shell out.

So what happened to the noble pursuit of knowledge known as education? How did it become all about money?

Photo of the Carlone Campus (Fac de Lettres) of the Université de Nice Sophia-Antipolis, taken by the lovely Ms. Lesley Oosterman

The Culture of "Draguer"

I just had the best night ever on Friday. Actually, the whole day pretty much rocked, and it culminated in a night of fascinating conversation that shed some light on the culture of draguer – refer to this post for a good example of what that means.

After having a supersatisfying meal at McDonalds right beside the Mediterranean, I went Christmas shopping in Vieux Nice and became very, very broke. Because I was such an efficient shopper, I was done a lot sooner than I'd anticipated, so I went home to chill before buying two yule logs and heading over to the dinner party at the beautiful villa I stayed at when I first got here.

I was excited to see my friends and to have another cooked meal - I'd been eating like an anorexic monkey for over a week because my kitchen sink is plugged and I refuse to cook if I can't do my dishes. The evening began with four of us girls, then the birthday boy (whose room I'd stayed in) arrived with his friend, and then one of the girls' boyfriend joined us from Italy. We talked about everything under the sun, there was often four different languages going at the table (so cool!), and I'm learning to use alcohol like a European.

Let me explain. At school in Canada, nine times out of ten, we drink to get plastered and act like a fool, often in public places, like bars and clubs. Here in Europe, there are certainly people who do that, but with the people I've met, the whole point is the conversation and enjoyment of the beverage. Like, we have a nice wine with dinner, or we have a good beer at a terrasse, and we're there to hang out and talk. And well, if or when the alcohol takes effect, we shed our inhibitions a bit and it makes the conversation more interesting, but no one gets completely sloshed. That's considered stupid and of poor taste. I really enjoy and respect that.

So a big theme of the evening was cultural differences (for example, Birthday Boy thinks it's sexy when North American girls pronounce the word "beaucoup" with their anglo accents) and the topic rolled around to the subject of draguer.

"You don't know what that is?" asked the Birthday Boy (BB).

No.

"It's when...when you see a beautiful girl, for example-"

"Or just an interesting girl." interjected his friend.

"-and you take the time to talk to her, you ask her how her day was, perhaps pay her a compliment..."

You mean you bother her?

"No! That's just- You see? That's exactly it. American girls are terrified of men." said BB. (You have to pardon them - most Europeans refer to all North Americans as "Americans," even Canadians, who they generally like better.)

I was quick to defend my fellow Maple Leafettes - I only speak for Canadians. We're not terrified of men, but it's weird and creepy for people you don't know to approach you randomly on the street to tell you you're beautiful. What are their ulterior motives?

Apparently, when European guys approach you on the street and try to chat you up, they're not purposely trying to creep you out but they think that they're showing appreciation for your presence, or something. This reminded me of a discussion we had about gender roles in my 18th century French literature class, where our teacher/co-ordinator (who knows BB incidentally, and has invited him to take us on outings in the area, which he's seriously considering doing next semester) that this practise of draguer probably stems from some archaic chivalrous code, where men think it's their duty and take it upon themselves to let the ladies know that they are desirable.

I still think it's kind of weird, especially for young boys to be doing it too, but I guess I can better understand why. But I also think that superficiality plays a part in this. I haven't been interested in any approachers so far, but if Gabriel Aubry or Josh Holloway were to come up to me to ask me how my day was or to tell me how beautiful I am, you bet your Christmas presents I'd be giving them the time of day!

Young'uns

A child hit on me today. I sh!t you not.

My mum insists that I have a baby face, and I always thought that that just means I have to be careful about perverts with Lolita fetishes, but apparently, that's the least of my problems.

I was contemplating the all-important matter of what kind of pasta I should get, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw that someone wanted to get by. Since the aisle was kind of narrow, I tucked myself against one side to let them through, but this boy of no more than 12, I'm positive, stops in front of me and says, "Bonjour!"

I respond in kind to be nice, but instead of passing through like I expected him to, he looks me up and down and tells me, "Vous êtes très belle."

Well, I certainly don't hear that every day. I definitely wasn't trying to look attractive and I knew I didn't today - trust me, I know when I'm hot. Besides that, I'd just eaten a pissaladière and probably reeked of onions. Slightly stunned, I paused for a moment and thanked him hesitantly. Then he looks me over again and says, "Superbelle."

Totally uncomfortable at this point, I give him a tight smile and start inching away. He makes a show of looking at the shelves mutters, "Couscous..." and then he turns back to me and asks me if I knew where the couscous was. Well, it was right in front of him, and I pointed at it. He thanked me enthusiastically, and with a quick "De rien!" I got my ass outta there.

I have two theories for why this could have happened:

1.) I was wearing a short skirt. It's not even that short (it's mid-thigh), but all the local women were bundled in woolly sweaters, boots and various winter accessories, so maybe it looked like I was trying to get attention? It was a balmy 18 degrees today though, and totally comfortable enough for a Canadian girl to rock a denim (not that) mini, tank top and a boyfriend cardigan with ballet flats.

But I find that French guys tend to fall at your feet if you're wearing a short skirt, even if your legs are average at best. I mean, my legs are fine, but they're not really that spectacular, and they were really dry today.

2.) Prepubescent kids just think about sex all the time anyway, but Europeans are more up front about it. My Auntie's godson (of sorts), who I met in Germany, substantiates this. I was at their apartment, and Auntie was forcing the poor kid to entertain me. He's not quite 15 years old and too cool for school. We found that we have similar musical interests (rap) so he showed me his iTunes. When I saw that he has Gasolina by Daddy Yankee, I asked him if he speaks Spanish. He said that he didn't, and I think it's stupid to be grooving to something you don't understand, so I explained the gist of the song to him - Gasolina is a euphemism for sex, of course, and the song's all about the singer pursuing a woman who's taken.

I also saw that he had the clean version of Akon's I Wanna F*ck You, and I asked him if he'd heard the original before. He had no idea that he was listening to the clean version, so I told him the real name, in case he wanted to YouTube it or something.

He looked at me cheekily and asked, "Are you having sex?" spoken very clearly, despite his self-proclaimed poor English. I told him with what I hope was a kind smile that it's none of his business, and he dropped the subject. Then I told him that I'm 21, and he knocked his head against his own desk.

Let's hope I start attracting guys who are at least legal!

Living in Baked Goods Heaven

Thanks to everyone for your kind wishes. I lit a candle for my friend at Monaco's St. Nicholas Cathedral yesterday, since her family is devoutly Christian. She is very strong and she's trying hard to recover and move on with her life, so, as an homage to her, I'm going to move on as well.

So! My Londonite flatmate thinks it’s hilarious that I call UK “The Land of the Most Wearable Flag”. I also refer to France with a number of endearments, one of which is Baked Goods Heaven, because there’s literally a bakery around every corner. I wonder how they can all stay in business because there is just so much competition, but my local friends assure me that France can support virtually any number of bakeries that crop up because it’s just their way of life. They happen to eat a ton of baked goods, and there will always be a demand for it.

But I realized that not all bakeries were created equal, because the ones that are labelled “Artisan(ales)” make much yummier stuff. There’s a huge difference between regular bakery products and artisan bakery products, and it’s completely obvious from the first bite. The first few nights I was here, I survived almost entirely on the exquisite baguettes from the Artisan Boulanger in Magnan, right around the corner from the hotel I stayed at. It was the most incredible stick of bread I had ever eaten up to that point – the crust was delightfully crispy and the inside was light as air – and I naively assumed that all bakeries here are that amazing, but I had a reality check when I started shopping around. It also helps to talk to and befriend locals, because that’s how you can get insider information on which bakeries specialize in what. For example, sometimes, a bakery that specializes only in bread may make their own bread but buy their pastries to sell.

I was delighted to discover that there’s a fantastic bakery right around the corner from where I live, called Le Chant du Pain, on the northwest corner of Andrioli and Rue de France. Originally, I was craving a brioche au sucre (a round, fragrant bun about the size of a palm, sprinkled with crumbly, coarse sugar), but when I walked in, this huge, lush confection caught my eye. It had about an inch-high layer of cream between two layers of pastry, and it was topped with crumbly sugar chunks – even better than just a brioche au sucre! The kind lady behind the counter told me that it’s called a tropézienne, and I just had to try it. I also bought a baguette to make a sandwich with for dinner, and on impulse, I also got a slice of apple pie.

Well, I never got around to making that sandwich, because I ate everything in a single setting; it was so good! The tropézienne was unbelievable – the sweet cream was rich, but fluffy and the layers of pastry were so buttery! And I must admit, I have a soft spot for crumbly sugar, because they just have the most lovely texture to bite into. And that baguette! It’s different from the Magnan one, but it’s just as good. I like it because it’s not super skinny, so it’s more versatile – you can spread things on it, dip it in soups and sauces, or you can make sandwiches out of it. And the beauty of thicker baguettes is that there’s more soft, fluffy stuff in the middle. The top was very crispy, the golden-brown bottom was crusty and flavourful, and the middle was smooth, soft and punctuated with big air bubbles. I buttered broken off pieces and finished it in the blink of an eye. The honour for Best Apple Pie, however, remains with that of J. Multari - there's one on Gambetta & Bottero and one downtown, as well. However, I'll definitely be going back to my local bakery, Le Chant soon.

I better watch it, because if I eat like this every day, I won’t be able to buy any of the gorgeous, European-sized clothes here!

Glamorous Poverty: Wine, Skin Care, Shoes and French Generic

It’s a happy coincidence that the boy that I love shares his first name with a huge fashion designer/major label, because every time I see people wearing shirts with his name splashed across the chest, it’s like he’s winking at me, all the way across the pond.

In additional gushing, the wine is so cheap here it’s ridiculous. You can get a perfectly decent bottle for anywhere from 1-3 €, but I’ve even seen some that are less than a euro! That’s practically free! They’re almost giving it away! They may as well just have wine come out of public fountains, or spray it out onto the streets at people – can you imagine what a party that would be?

It’s such a shame that wine isn’t dirt cheap at home, though – after all, Ontario produces wine, too. It’s also super easy for anyone and everyone to buy alcohol here – a local friend told me that a child of 10 could easily buy wine or beer and no one would bat an eye. That and the fact that kids are exposed to wine at their family dinner tables virtually every day since a very young age is why I suspect that drinking isn’t as huge a deal here as it is in North America.

But I digress. The point is, wine is really, really cheap here, and buying an occasional bottle to sip with friends or to cook with is a great way to amp up your quality of life despite being dirt poor in Europe.

I find that as a general rule, necessities are expensive in Nice, while fun things can run really cheap. For example, food is generally more expensive, especially if you have certain diets. For instance, I eat rice almost every day, and a one kilo bag of mediocre rice is about 2.50 €, while a premium-quality 10kg bag in uptown Toronto is about $15.00 CAD – and that’s after inflation, because they used to cost about $10.00. Personal care products, like shampoo and toothpaste, are also really pricey – only exceptions are French skin care products, which are not cheap but are definitely less costly than at home because here, they are domestic products. For example, I love the brand Avène because I have sensitive skin. An Avène moisture serum (which, by the way, is a phenomenal award-winning product) is $43.00 CAD at Shopper’s Drug Mart in Toronto (since August, anyway), but here, I can buy it for 22 €, which is about $35.00 CAD. Pretty darn good.

Fashion accessories can also be really cheap, but it takes a lot of patient sifting to find something really special, I think, because there’s just so much to choose from. I’m particularly interested in shoes, and I’ve been able to score some great finds here. My flatmate found a store that has a selection of shoes for only 5 €, but I went there, and I don’t really like what’s available. However, I got a pair of cute little cobalt blue patent pumps for only 22 € (that’s about $35 CAD), which is now on sale for about 11 €, and today I bought a pair of supercomfy, casual canvas flats on sale for 6 € (!) and a dressier pair that can totally pass for real leather for just 13 €, all at Moa (on Jean-Médecin). For those of you living in Nice – there’s a huge sale there. I saw a few cute bags that I’d totally go for if I didn’t have the good sense to guilt-trip myself for spending money I shouldn’t spend yet. There are also a lot of great little items (especially trendy pieces and cheap shoes!) at Pimkie, the store right beside it.

Luckily, for all of us poor students living here in France, I find that most generic brand products are very good quality, sort of like President’s Choice in Canada, although I’d say that President’s Choice is steadily becoming a power brand. The other day, I bought a box of Schlecker-brand tissue from Schlecker, this awesome sort of discount store chain in France that reminds me of, say, Pharmaplus or IGA in Canada minus the medications, and I’m very happy with it because it’s thick, durable, and it can almost pass for Kleenex. It wasn’t cheap (because it’s a necessity and it follows my rule, see), but it was cheaper than everything else and it’ll last me because it’s good quality. I’m also pretty happy with Casino-brand food products, which of course, are sold at Casino stores – it’s a supermarket brand that’s sort of halfway in quality between Loblaw’s and No Frills, except with lots of booze.

But my favourite generic food brand by far has to be Leader Price, which is available at Leader Price and Franprix stores. The only Franprix store I’ve been to was very clean and very well-organized, if a little small. Leader Price products are even cheaper than Casino products, but they are very, very good quality. One of my flatmates recommended this mussels & potatoes TV dinner, which costs only 2.14 € and it’s one of the most delicious things I’ve eaten since coming here – as well as a great substitute if you’re craving moules frites and are broke.

So! If you’re low on cash, don’t despair, because there are ways to live well without bankrupting yourself – I call it living in glamorous poverty. ;}

You know you've settled down in France when...

I can’t believe how breathtaking it is here, and I can’t believe how incredibly lucky I am to have this opportunity. Living on the French Riviera is just the most awe-inspiring experience. Thank the Cosmos my mum encouraged me to learn French from Day 1, thank goodness that this program exists, that I am so well-provided for that I am able to do this, that I am here, seeing, hearing, eating, living these things.

I sort of asked myself today why I don’t just live here, but that answer’s pretty simple: I’d miss the people and the food at home. But I’m sure glad I can get to do this for a year. Just enough time for me to really get life here, but it’s a concrete chunk of time so that I can also look forward to (and better appreciate) all the people and things at home. And also so that I won’t take anything here for granted – despite the fact that I basically see it every day, the Mediterranean just stuns me every time.

And I love, love, love my living situation. At first I wanted to live at the sweet bachelorette pad of this middle-aged lady, and I was sad that she didn’t pick me, but now I realize what a blessing in disguise that was, because she wouldn’t have made a good flatmate and I wouldn’t have been able to go out if I lived with her – not to mention the fact that I have the coolest flatmates ever! I share my apartment with two girls, but the flat next to us is owned by the same woman, so the six of us all hang out together. I live with Vicky, a British girl whose accent I love listening to, and Gaelle, a French girl who is just the most serious gorgeousness.

Just the night before, I was hanging out next door and I sort of felt like I was living in the Tower of Babel – it was so cool! Lea, from Austria, was speaking to her boyfriend in German; Arantxa, from Spain, had her Spanish friends over and they were speaking probably even faster than I do in English; I was speaking this mélange of English and French with Hoda, who is Tunisian-French and teaches us to bellydance – she and I have an agreement because she helps me with French and I’m teaching her English.

So because I love lists so much, here is my latest offering:

You know you’ve settled down in France when...

-instead of fuming at the excruciatingly slow service, you laugh at how everyone in line with you is swearing up a storm (not that it necessarily means that they’d be any faster at their jobs)
-you cook your first ethnic meal at your place (i.e. you finally bust out the mini-cooker your mom insisted that you bring, which was especially mailed to you from Hong Kong prior to leaving home)
-you and your friends have a regular schedule for going out and such
-it’s second nature to double-kiss your buds hello and goodbye
-you’re able to start cataloguing the price points of everything so that you know immediately upon seeing a price whether you’re getting a good deal or getting ripped off, and so
-you can start taking advantage of buying things that are cheaper than at home (like chocolates and skincare products– yay!)
-you have Internet at your place (hm...guess I’m not quite settled down yet)
-you know where all the wireless hotspots in town are, which ones have a time limit, which ones are secured, which ones are fastest and most reliable, etc.
-you eat your meals on your personal balcony, which is just outside the windows of your room
-evading the many mounds of dog doo on the streets comes naturally
-locals finally start speaking to you in French first instead of English because hopefully, they no longer think you’re a tourist, or someone who speaks poorly
-you start dreaming in French and it feels totally natural until you wake up and randomly remember a scene

I'm Lovin' It

Thank the Cosmos for McDonalds free wireless! And for their air-conditioning too!

My goodness, I don't know how much longer I'm going to last without Internet. You see, I finally found a place and have settled in - and, all things considered, I'm in the best possible position I can be in. But there's still no Internet, and I have no idea how much longer we need to bug the daylights out of our landlady...

But enough about that, because now I'm at a McDonalds overlooking the Mediterranean, using their free Internet and I can finally talk to all of you again.

I love it here! Please allow me to gush. My thoughts are all over the place, so forgive the formatting and lack of organization:

*It sounds silly, but I feel so European every time I double-kiss my local friends. In North America, usually only pretentious people do it (unless it's a cultural thing with their families), but here it's what people actually do instead of hugging hello and goodbye. In fact, my first double-kiss was also my first I'm-in-France-Moment - I'd befriended a French girl at registration and when I saw her at class sign-up the next day, she leaned in and gave me a What-the-Hell-Look when I had no idea what she was doing. And then the light bulb went off, and it's almost instinct now!

*I also feel really cosmopolitan because I'm making friends from lots of different countries - France, of course, the UK (England and Ireland so far), Austria, Germany, Italy, Morocco, etc. etc. etc.! I'm hoping to charm my way to a hometown or two so that I'll be able to stay somewhere for free. I really should get to work on befriending someone from Prague and someone from Greece!

*I suspect that some of the streets downtown smell like pee because the French have very bad Washroom Karma - they're very stingy with their washrooms. Even when you're a woman asking a woman to use their washroom - you'd think they'd understand, right? Wrong!

*At every class I have except one, I have a fantastic view of the Mediterranean. It's distracting, to say the least.

*BNP Paribas is the suckiest, most inefficient bank I've ever had the displeasure to work with. Don't use them if you ever live in France.

*Campus is definitely the chicest place in the city. There is all kinds of gorgeousness and stylishness going on there, which totally makes up for the poor, under-funded building. But I'm also more aware than ever what a Casual Canadian I am. :P

*I see that French women love to wear white. The hottest look of the season here in Nice though, has to be the shirt dress - or just a big, floaty shirt - with a thick belt slung low on the waist. And this can be just by itself, or over leggings or over a skirt, or over shorts, or over jeans.

*I lovelovelove the French aesthetic, but it's not so easy to emulate. On one end of the spectrum there's the perfectly-prepped look - elaborate, fancy, high-maintenance, and never the same look twice. Practically impossible for me to do. On the other end of the spectrum, there's the effortlessly beautiful. Like my French flatmate. The girl literally rolls out of bed looking stunning every single day, with her outfit casually imperfect but set just so - she sort of looks like a young Natalie Portman. She just happens to be naturally captivating. And there are many of them here. It's mind-boggling!

*I've identified the Classic French Beauty - slightly olive skin, lush, espresso hair, dark eyes, perfect brows just slightly on the full side, rightly convinced that she is gorgeous, super put-together and with a slightly toplofty air. They are something else.

*A girl in the flat next to mine, which belongs to the same landlady, looks just like Gisele Bundchen, except she's Austrian.

*Hearing English has never affected me this much before - I feel a certain camaraderie here towards other Anglophones. It's like we're in a club or something.

*Prior to coming here, I have never met boys who don't drink. I guess it's not such a huge deal since people are just too used to of alcohol.

*Smoking is way too popular!

*The boys aren't all cute, but the ones who are, are really good-looking. And if he's a mutual friend, you're allowed to double-kiss him. And I've just realized that one of the best ways to hit on me is to praise my superior French-speaking abilities, as well as my intelligence. Hee!

Ok, I need to bring my copy of French Vogue home and digest it from cover to cover. Will talk again as soon as I can - pray that I'll get Internet soon, for me?

XOXOXO

On the French Riviera

Hello from France!!! Do you like the new banner? :D

For those of you who don't know, I'm on exchange in Nice, France for a year, to wrap up my undergrad career. I arrived in Nice yesterday evening and - holy moly, but it was hot. And humid! It was such a gross feeling. I was really grumpy to learn that air conditioning in residential spaces are very rare. And I was a little Momsick.

Then I woke up and had a wonderful day! First, I bought and ate the most delicious, airy baguette and chocolate croissant ("pain au chocolat") I've ever tasted at the bakery around the corner. Then, I went out to the breathtaking beach and dipped my legs into the Mediterranean. The water is actually turquoise here! (I'm from Toronto - there are no nice beaches where I'm from.) The gorgeous sea sort of sucks you in. I meant to only get my feet wet, but I just kept wanting to go further and further in after the initial splash.

The trip here was pretty good. British Airways is fantastic. The service is very, very good. The flight attendants are generally very attentive and friendly. And the dinner they served was surprisingly good! There was a diced veggie salad with two generous hunks of feta cheese, roll with butter, grilled chicken breast with ravioli in a creamy pesto sauce (the other option was salmon, which ran out by the time they got to me, unfortunately), cherry (?) cheesecake, a stick of dark chocolate - and free booze!

That's right - British Airways serves free booze, even on shorter flights on smaller planes. They have beer, wines, spirits... One flight attendant was super gracious when a man clearly was asking for a bottle of wine for the flight and one for later.

On my first (longer) flight, I was in an awesome plane where there were screens at the backs of headrests - everyone had their own private system, on which they could watch movies, TV shows, listen to the radio, CDs, the news... I saw an episode of the Simpsons, an episode of Desperate Housewives, most of Bruce Almighty and some of Shrek. I also listened to a playlist of almost 20 songs that I chose myself. But I couldn't sleep, unfortunately.

Then I had to wait at Heathrow for seven hours for my connecting flight - that part wasn't so fun. I mean, there were a lot of fancy duty free shops, but they operate in pounds (you can pay in euros but your change will be in pounds), everything is super expensive, and I'd seen everything there was to see in a couple hours. I didn't want to sleep, either, because I was determined to get my body clock in gear.

People watching in London was something else, though. The gentleman were mostly courteous (and many were handsome with awesome accents!) and the ladies were very fancy. I saw a lady with a Kelly bag in one hand and a HUGE LV carry-on in the other with a frequent flyer tag attached to do. And you wouldn't believe what some ladies wore to fly in - but I suppose their flights were way shorter than mine. I thought it was super lame that you have to pay for wireless, though - and quite a bit, at that.

On my connecting flight, I made friends with this kind lady beside me, who is from the northwest part of Nice. How I wish I kept her e-mail so that I could charm my way to a homecooked meal or two! It was a tough flight though, because I had two very ill-tempered and impatient kids behind me.

When I got here, I was really thrown because of the weather, but I met a really kind local who taught me how to use the bus system. The hotel also really thrown me. It's not cheap at all, but I mean, I wasn't expecting a whole lot. As I was telling a friend today, I thought I'd been to some pretty humble hotels before, but let me tell you, this place brings humility to a whole new level. Let's hope I get all the administrative stuff done soon and that I can find a place to live soon! Thank goodness I'm starting to get used to of the heat and that the other people in my program are awesome!

Will let you know about more of my explorations in the next day or two - meanwhile, have a look at my pictures! And if you want, e-mail me for the link to my personal album!

Looking up at the Promenade des Anglais from the pebble beach - so pretty!

View of the sunset over the Mediterranean - the view from my hotel room window.

There are palm trees everywhere! I'd never seen a real palm tree before, prior to coming here. And the architecture is so beautiful. So interesting. See, that's the difference between Europe and uptown Toronto. Where I'm from, everything is shiny and new, yes. But in Europe, there is so much world history and character in the environment!