amsterdam bike

As is pretty generally known, Holland is the home to lots and lots of bicycles. With such flat terrain throughout the country, bikes are literally everywhere. Stacked along side-walks, nestled en masse into huge purpose built racks, and even filling multi-storey bicycle parks, you would have to assume the population to be a relatively healthy one. Until you see how the Holandaise eat chips. That is, hot chips, with up to seven different dipping sauces available, and even a sweet / sugary version of mayonnaise- things probably balance themselves out nicely.

wandering home one night

Winter is Here.

Winter is most definitely here. Today I went for a walk over near Bastille with Silvia's umbrella. The Bastille area was probably not the best choice of place to go for a walk today. Lots of rain. Plenty of blustery wind bursts, and a cold that kept reminding me to buy gloves and a thicker scarf.

The best way to describe the area where I was walking - with squelching shoes and periodically inside out umbrella - would be Brnswick in Melbourne. While the building's lining both sides of the roads are still defined with Haussmann's rules, down below at street level, the small cafes and shops are dotted with a very Brunswicky feel. Layed back, second hand furniture-furnished, good food and like Melbourne, the decent places here aren't easy to find.

So after a few hours wandering, just got back around 4pm and jotted down the view from my bedroom window. - Now, Where there was once a dense green wall of leaves when I moved in, then a thinning bright yellow and orange blur last week, is now just a lot of black trunks, with the last few determined leaves hanging on against the wind. While it starts getting dark at about 4:30, and is night time by 5:30, the weather is surprisingly not as depressing as I thought it would be, - even knowing that mid 20's and bright blue skies are happening back at home. The air is fresh, a well heated apartment is very much appreciated, and a steaming hot crepe oozing with liquid nutella on the way to school has never been so good!

A Lesson.

Now. So far I guess this blog has been pretty useless. That is to say, there haven’t really been many lessons thrown in. So this is the time for a quick lesson. A lesson for any Australian going over seas for a period of time with the intent of mingling with the locals. – Be they German, Croatian or “heaven forbid,” the Frogs.

Before coming over to France, the Education abroad Faculty over at Deakin, Geelong sat all the prospective exchangers down in a lecture room with, amongst many other colourful A4 sheets to fill out, a list of questions.

This list of questions had been put together by the University as a means of making sure each student was fully aware of the social, political and religious circumstances they were going to be putting themselves into overseas.

For example . . .

What is the name of the current Prime Minister / President of the country you will be living in? –Sarkozy.

What is the prominent religion of the country you are travelling to? - Partly catholic, also partly agnostic, with a sprinkling of Muslim and Judaism.

What is the Capital City of the Country? – Paris. Easy.

What currency is used in the country? – Euro. Next question . . ..

The point I’m setting out to make is this. These questions can very simply be answered in the first 5 minutes of getting into the country. Or the airport, or even just while the plane is taxying into the arrival area or, if you’re like me and appreciate a little in-flight entertainment, somewhere over Kabul while you’re chasing the night sky around the earth’s horizon.

So. Sure. Learn these things. But if you get to the foreign country, and you know the name of the currency, and the president, but you can’t answer how many unprovoked shark attacks occur at Australian beaches every year (about 10, with one or 2 fatalities) then you will definitely be in trouble.

The other day, ready to try and answer another ridiculously difficult question about the geometry of surfaces, one of my professors instead asked me how many poisonous snakes we have in Australia, and “how deadly they are” … ( as it turned out - an equally, or even more difficult question to answer than the possible geometry-based one ) - five main types, the Brown snake causing the most fatalities : But you should keep in mind that while our snakes may be incredibly venomous, they haven’t spent enough time next to humans in evolution to develop un-provoked human offensive behaviour. – The aboriginals largely hunted the tranquil or non-active species, leaving the “cheeky” types well alone – So they will probably only bite you if you step on them. … Drunk. – or if you are a mouse.

Another one worth working into conversation is the difference between a monotreme and a marsupial ( Monotreme: mammal that lays eggs, Marsupial: mammal that gives birth to live young, but rears them in a pouch or sack – also of note: it turns out that Marsupial females have two vaginae, the males having a “double pronged penis”. .. I don’t remember this having been taught at Pleasant Street Primary School…. Probably with good reason.. . Yikes factor.)

It might even be worth noting what “endemic” means.

“ Roughly 85% of Australia’s native plants, animals, and in-shore, temperate zone fish, along with about 45% of our native bird species are only found naturally IN AUSTRALIA. We have a lot of great stuff! !! – And that’s before they start asking about the origins of the Opera House, Uluru, and the amazing fact that our population is only about 21 million people, ( a third of that of France) but we live in a country some 40 times the size.

So. When you go to another country to stay with some foreigners, while they’ll probably find it novel that you know that “Sarkozy” is the name of a president and not a Greek swear word, it’s advisable to read up on your own country: because for the most part, that’s what they will probably want to talk about.

Here ends the reading.

Cheers again, Tim.

Some more Japanese Ceramics ...

There's not really any doing justice to these ceramics with a sketch. But the artists had a way of making clay seem like fabric. Even the grey and pink vase seemed more like felt than ceramic. very clever stuff!

A little bit of amsterdam . . .

Coldest place on earth? .. .. Amsterdam.

Some Sketches

Hey there,

just a few quick sketches of bits and pieces from along the way . . . a dog that was sitting on the lap of it's owner in a small bar over by Oberkampf. My feet in the Luxembourg gardens. An amazing bit of pottery from a collective Japanese exhibition near the Australian embassy in Paris. A sketch of a painting in the same Japanese exhibition. The exhibition was a pretty good one actually, -- showed the work of the first Japanese artists to arrive and study art in France. Very strong impressionist influences in allumettes rouges. Unfortunately couldn't take photo's -- but the artist had a really nice use of color...

Some Photos

O.K, so blogwise I'm a bit out of practice. Since my last post, I've lived in Rome for five days with a really nice and welcoming Italian family ( and had a great time) , and then squeezed in a bit of uni work before a school field trip to Amsterdam for 3 days! (very eye-opening, lol) - So, with all this happening, most of my spare time since getting back to Paris has been put towards uni work again - and not so much blog entries. So, while I still dont have a lot of time to knock out decent, or at least worthy entries of these two trips, I'm just going to throw up a few pictures / photos for a rough idea of how things have been happening over the past 2- 3 weeks! cheers again, Tim.

Getting Ready For Italy :)

A Visitor

So. Billy Higgs, ( an old friend from school) has just dropped into Paris for the week. Great to catch up, plenty of translating, but heaps of laughs:)
Tourist-wise we've ticked boxes for The Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame Cathedral, Luxembourg Gardens - all by night, and even found an Australian shop that sells Tim Tams and Coopers fine pale ale. .. Two nights ago we made the trip accross town to the North of Montmartre where another Erasmus student from Canada was hosting a get together. As it turned out, this part of Paris is best known as Little Africa. So at 9'30 at night with a frigid wind being sucked through the underground, Bill and I ascended the steps of "Chateaux Rouge" ready to join the group at Toby's. Signaling the apparent difference between this part of town and any other, piles of trampled corn cob husks littered the upper part of the stairwell and ground around the metro sortie. The odd blackened and roasted corn cob also lay about the mess. But despite the cold and time of night, the streets were still full of activity. Dozens of North-African immigrants were ensconced in hearty, laugh-riddled conversations by a greengrocers, some wended their way through the slicks of corn cob husks on the pavement- clearly looking for somewhere to pass the night - possibly involving mischief. Others still, making their way home with the groceries would eye Bill and myself, the two white youths with as much curiosity as surprise, being the only two Caucasians in sight! But the area had a a great feeling of openness unlike many other metro stops in Paris, and was definately an eye-opener. -- have to head now but more news as it's made - cheers, Tim.

Pantin

Right. Today I spoke to mum and she assures me it's time to update this blog. .. But I've actually just spent the day pawing over plans and photos of of a small commune -just North of Paris - called Pantin, so I'm not sure I'm going to get a lot written. -- Pantin could easily be considered as a part of "Les Banlieus," or dangerous outer Parisian suburbs. It's composed of a confusing mis-match of crumbling, early to mid century industrial warehouses, government funded housing and high-rises, small, litter-strewn parks and the odd shiny glass and steel French administration building. - The entire mix seemingly swept aside from the romantic Paris known to the bourgoises, tourists and artists - somewhere out of sight to the North.

On first arriving in Pantin, I have to admit I wasn't immediately excited about spending the next 6 months focussed soully on such a grey little patch of suburbia, but with every visit, I've actually come to find the place is growing on me. - Pantin is character rich. When you stop and just watch how things work, and what happens in the bronx, you don't tend to focus so much on the cold concrete landscape.

Small groups of hooded teenagers wagging school search for a quieter place to smoke and swear. Fishermen by the canal with tattered old shopping trolleys full of bread, vinegar-smelling red wine and leathery cheeses happily chat away amongst themselves - largely ignoring their dinky rods with slack lines. Joggers on the water's edge dodge their way along the canal, jumping from cobbled stone surfaces to broken concrete slabs, constantly searching for the flattest surface to run on. And then of course there's the architecture students. At a glance, some joke and jostle amongst each other, other break-aways bend or stoop low. Pause. Then with a fuzzy digital click, capture a rusty boat mooring at a curious angle. Or a feathery shadow being spread on the concrete by a factory's broken window pane.
Other's sit and sketch, and others still (like me) make the mistake of asking the fisherman if they've had any luck, getting nothing but lies and laughs in reply.

So basically, (aside from the pretty heavy social calendar organised for most nights of the week ) I'm starting to switch over from tourist mode to student mode. But am still finding a bit of time to be the archi student taking the odd-angled photo, or sitting down for a sketch - so ! - still very good times :) Cheers, Tim.

At School and at Home.

So! – Update . . . At this point, Uni is 3 weeks underway. I’m taking four subjects, a design subject, an environment and building subject, “urbain sociology” and “geometry of surfaces.” – All four of the subjects at this point seem to be doing the right things – (at least I understand them to be doing the right things)

I’ve got professors that can slowly tease out their sentences, bringing their ideas to the classroom over a matter of hours. Others that have so much to say all at once, that they seem to be in a perpetual state of verbal outpour, and others still, who passionately uphold their right to smoke in class, casually emphasizing their phrases with an angled cigarette in hand - the room gradually filling with smoke.

As for the school itself, the architecture faculty is nestled in a very impressive network of carved stone buildings, just across the Seine from the Louvre.
Just about any stone surface that could have been intricately carved on the buildings has been. The walkways are covered in mid-nineteenth century mosaics, and to clean the marble-carved walls, upwards of 5 conservators are brought in to the school monthly to flit away the dust and cobwebs with short-haired paintbrushes.
-It really is another world!

Home life has turned out to be just as amusing as school. After all the hassles involved in finding a place to stay, I’m now living in a great share-apartment for the next 4 months with Silvia, Paola and Tillia. Silvia and Paola are two girls who have come from Rome, and Tillia from the south of France. –While we don’t really have a very big living room (more of a space in a hallway between the kitchen and bathroom) – the common welcome as you open the door after a day of uni is half a dozen heavy italian accented “Ciaos!” and another 3 or four voices echoing the first group in French with Saluts and Bonjours from the other rooms and kitchen.
In the 2 weeks that I've been here, I've only ever been alone in the apartment once, and even that was only for half an hour. The smell of fresh, strong coffee is always thick in the air, and is usually fighting with the stale cigarette smoke from the night before. The fridge is always full of fresh tomatoes and bottles of green and black olives. And every night there are fresh coffee stains on the bench from the communal kick start of the morning.

All in all, things are going well - but weeks are already starting to disappear quickly, and I've already been here 2 months - Must be having fun:)
Cheers,
Tim.

La Nuit Blanche

Dear All,

Last night, Paris and surrounds celebrated “La Nuit Blanche.” – Blanche, because for one night, pretty well everyone leaves the lights on! – Cafes, restaurants, shops and even museums keep the doors open until well into the morning, so that the partying, weary, thirsty or culture-hungry people of the city can pass a huge night with plenty of fun and laughs.

So! – My “Nuit Blanche.” – First of all I should point out that the World Cup Rugby was in full swing last night as well with France playing off against New Zealand in the qualifier . .. . So the unexpected result of France actually beating The All Blacks meant that on top of Le Nuit Blanche, Paris was absolutely crazy last night!!!!!

So after a quick apperatif at home with the flat mates, I headed out and met up with some other Erasmus students at the Centre Pompidou for a quick night view of the city from the roof. From there we bagan an 8 hour trek. Stopping only briefly every now and again for a loo stop or emergency crepe, we criss-crossed the city sometimes with a plan, but mostly just pin-balling our way through the various attractions and museums on offer for the night. – A highlight though was Les Jardins des Tuilleries. As part of the mass of art installations brought from all around Europe for the night, the Tuilleries had been transformed into a huge walkway between the Louvre and The Champs Elysees – featuring nothing but fire and water.

-While you had to spare a thought for the evident carbon emissions offsetting their “Velib” idea – The sight was incredible! – Flames literally exploded into view and danced around all the way down the length of the gardens- lighting the path and faces of the crowds wandering past. Huge chandeliers of kerosene lamps held up by cranes, and mechanical models bobbed along on the surface of the ponds, making twin reflections on the water’s inky surface. Fire breathing, eating and twirling performers also made their way through the procession, spot lighting themselves in the glow of their flames.


By this point, having passed café after café crammed with French supporters cheering for “Les Bleus” on the way to the Louvre, it became pretty evident that France had won when the roads suddenly flooded with dancing and cheering fans draped in red, white and blue. Car horns were being hooted in successive staccato bursts alongside scooters over-revving their engines and most of the fountains we saw for the rest of the night could boast at least one semi-naked Frenchman singing La Marseillaise with friends, or, just alone - without the friends he thought were going to join him for a swim. Ha.

The rest of the night continued pretty well in the same way, before the last few drinks at an Irish Pub ( as you do in Paris) then a stroll back along the Seine to the Metro we thought was going to be open all night - - - But which in fact closed at 4am.
This was O.k though, because the city was still alive with people – so one by one we walked around the city, dropping off members of the team as we went.

All in all, a great night. And today we’ve got a brilliant sunny day. So I’m off to a park with the housemates for a nap in the sun. Tough times.

Tim.

The Hunt

Well! - It's obviously been a long time since the first post on this site. At this point in time I've been here in Paris a month!!! -- Actually that's pretty hard to get my head around. But the time is, as usual - flying. So! - a quick recap .. . .. . . .. . .. Firstly I should point out that the goal before I arrived was to get into Paris 3 weeks early, find accommodation for the 6 months, dump the bags, and head out for some tourist time around Europe . Unfortunately, it turned out that finding any accommodation here as a student is VERY difficult!!! :)

Options for a student looking for accommodation here include shareflats with other French students ( what I was looking for ) shareflats with French families ( often in exchange for babysitting) , shareflats with the elderly (usually as a means of giving them some sense of security at night), student housing buildings ( mostly further out of town) , studio ( 1 room ) apartments, residential student colleges ( really nice places to live, beautiful old buildings and lots of international students, well catered for etc. ) but harder than anywhere else to get a spot!! - and if all else fails, the French government give the homeless a blue and orange tent to sleep in for the Winter --- So I guess I always had somewhere if nothing else worked out.

As far as the hunting process goes, the average day is spent on the computer for up to 6 hours, scrolling through offers, ads or announcements. Then if ( as Larry says ) the price is right, the location is good, the room is being offered for the same short period of time that you are staying for, the room on offer isn't being shared by a crazy looking French plasterer, and doesn't require you to make a jaffle iron and a kettle the extent of your kitchen for 6 months; you've had a definite win, and it's time to call the phone number.

This is when the second difficult part begins. For whatever reason, speaking in another language on the telephone is really hard. - sometimes up to four or five words spoken by the native person on the other end become a really smooth string of understandable communication. Unfortunately, those few words are usually the useless ones at the very beginning, involving where the person is at the time (usually on the metro, in a supermarket, or other noisy place ) and how difficult it is going to be to talk (what you knew before you picked up the phone) . The rest is a bit hit and miss, but if you manage to get through the conversation and organise a time and place to meet up for a drink or to look at the room, then you're moving on to difficult step 2.5.

--This step has strong links with "difficult part 2." Basically, if you have the meeting time, place or date wrong, it involves another difficult phone call to figure out which part you got wrong, while desperately trying to give the impression that you won't be a burden to your possible flat mates and / or France in general. -If this part goes wrong it can be easier just to go back to difficult step no.1 and start again. ha.

Difficult step no. 3: This involves the face-to face part of the hunt. Usually this would be the most straightforward part, but unfortunately, and as usual, “straightforward” doesn’t seem to get a look-in. (“straightforward” as a general rule in France actually only appears in the giving of street directions).
Luckily for me, I only met really nice people searching for a flatmate; but by and large I was still up against 30 to 40 other nice people wanting the same room- sometimes waiting in the corridor, sometimes in the flat with you looking at the room!! –Hectic.

So this is all very long winded, but I just wanted to point out the reason behind my lack of updates. ---uncharacteristically stressed!

But after 2 weeks of 6 phone calls a day, multiple interviews and even the odd offer from a 54 year old male nudist ( these were recurring ) I fell into a share flat with Marie for a month. A 26 year old fashion designer and Theatre seat directrice, who goes shopping for food but only buys things that look “interesting and different.” - As a result we spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to cook things like the vegemite equivalent of pasta sauce, and orange lentils. Good fun. Just like living in SBS. – So far minus the extreme nudity. Ha ha.

So I’ve been staying with Marie for about 2 weeks, but on the 1st of October I’m off to the next apartment. After placing an add in a local paper I got a call from 2 Italian girls ( Paola and Silvia ) and a French girl ( unknown as yet ) to share an awesome flat near Uni for the next 5 months!! – awesome☺ So the stress is off. Uni starts next week, I’m enrolled in subjects, and now I’ve got a few days to kill – so I think I’m going to head over to London for a look around (2 hours away on the Euro Star- awesome).

Cheers, Tim.

10 Days to Go.

10 days to go! - Then off to Paris - I guess by this stage I should probably have some idea of what I should be expecting, but to be totally honest, I wouldn't have a clue:) { laughs }