Without Fanfare or Frippery

From Cusco, to Lima, to Atlanta, New York and finally Paris. Here I am, half way across the world for the second time in a few short weeks. The trip to Paris was a bit hectic as I had less than a day between my flight home from Peru and my departure to Europe. The bags were switched, took a quick shower, ate a sinfully delicious breakfast at Sweet Mama's in Northport (banana pancakes, eggs, toast, sausage, grapefruit juice, coffee...yum!) and took off again. No one could say that NYU doesn't give you the opportunity to do enough during your time as a student.

The Friday I arrived in Paris most students had already been here for a week so it was time to take the placement exam. The evaluation placed us in 7 or 8 different language groups for the preliminary course. At NYU Paris, the first two weeks of class are taken up by a preliminary language course that focuses on phonetics, grammar, vocabulary and conversation. Everyday, from 9:30 am to 13:00pm students are separated into different language groups and professors rotate between the classrooms instructing their various lessons. Next week I'll take some pictures of the NYU Paris building to share with you.

The apartment where I'm living is in the 5th arrondissement, perhaps better known to some as the Latin Quarter (Quartier Latin). When the taxi pulled up to the building, I was amazed. Rue des Ecoles is at a central location for sites such as the Pantheon, Maison de la Mutalite, The Cluny and the Sorbonne...all of which are within a 3 minute walking radius of my front door. Spoiled, I know! I'm right near Blv. St-Germain, the Seine is right down the street and Luxembourg Gardens is just a skip away.

The apartment is on the 6th floor with a view of Notre-Dame. Every morning we eat breakfast together...meaning the view of the church and myself. I tell my parents constantly, "I do not deserve to live in a place with such a beautiful view." It is a special treat that I am enormously grateful for.

I suppose a mini tour is in order if our conversations are going to be transatlantic for the next few months. You might as well get an idea of where these blogs are coming from!

Welcome: Come on in...

And there you have it! My little studio in the heart of Paris. Anyone's welcome to visit.

When my Uncle Sean was studying at Mary Washington University, he decided to study abroad in Paris for a semester and ended up staying for five years. His love for Paris is contagious. The stories he shares about his time working in a bookstore, the trips he took and the countless baguette he ate paints an image of a city well worth his admiration. Slowly, I find myself discovering the same magic that he found. For Christmas, he was kind enough for pick out some Paris guides he felt would help me explore the city a bit better. The most amazing resource has been the stack of walking tour cards that he said he would choose from at random in the event of a free afternoon. Little did I know, the very first card on top of the stack started right at the metro stop down the street. It was as if the day was fated to take place. The card led me over to the Ile de la Cite. I visited the Memorial de la Deportation, Notre-Dame Cathedral, the flower market, Sainte Chapelle, the Palace de Justice, the Conciergerie and finally Pont-Neuf at the very tip of the Island. It was such a quintessential way to start this new adventure in Paris.

Here are some photos from that first Sunday's walking trip, if you're interested...
Street Robot

Afternoon Jazz

Stained Glass

Notre-Dame

Cathedral

St. Joan

Flower Market Birds

Sainte Chapelle

More to come...enjoy!

Kilograms or ounces? Degrees celsius or fahrenheit? Is there such thing as canned chicken broth here? Cuit means the bacon is cooked, right?

While Paris can charm any foodie into sensory overload with the tastes and smells waiting to be discovered in the local markets, it can drive a home chef mad with frustration when trying to prepare a specific meal. Trying to navigate a world of unknown ingredients and proportions is challenging at the start. Luckily, the sheer seductiveness of fresh produce, robust meats and pungent cheese can drawn the frustrated gourmet out of their dismay. As the aroma of the storefronts sinks into the cobble stoned streets, one can find the inspiration to throw the recipe book to the wind and start cooking from the gut. It's about taste. It's about fragrance. It's about feeling driven to create just by looking at the beautiful ingredients waiting to be picked. How could one not fall in love with food in France? It's an experience all on its own.

To quickly give you an idea of my first real attempt at a gourmet meal in Paris, let's start off at the Marche Moufettard. This outdoor market is open Sunday mornings right up the hill from my apartment next to the Pantheon. The market is more like a festival rather than a simple place to buy fresh groceries. There was music, dancing and little girls running round eating cartons of raspberries as their mothers chased after them. As much as I was customer like everyone else, I felt more like a fly on the wall watching a gorgeous sunday ritual unfold.

The produce was spectacular. Although there were only a few stands, each table was bursting with plump tomatoes, bushels of herbs and the most gigantic strawberries I have ever seen. I ended up with mushrooms, garlic, onions, three different kinds of berries and some thyme.

As I walked back towards my apartment, I stopped at the local butcher from some bacon. The young man joked with me about how little jambon I wanted. In french he suggested, "Why do you not buy some more and have me over for dinner. Works for both of us." As tempting as it was, my menu was set for three ladies that evening and a superfulous amount of bacon would not be necessary.

The next stop was the Fromagerie. I was looking for riccotta cheese to sweet and serve with the berries. Of course, one would wonder why I was set on buying italian cheese when I was in the heart of Paris. Unsurprisingly, the first two fromageries told we they did not have any riccotta and that I should try the Italian specialty store down the way. In an attempt to keep my meal as local and authentic as possible, I asked the fromagier if perhaps she knew a different kind of soft cheese I could sweeten and serve with fruit. Before long, she dipped her hand into a large tub of soft white curds and plopped the contents onto a piece of parchment paper. With a few skillful twists, a signature move of the french store owners, the cheese was bundled and ready to go. My dilema now is that I absolutely loved the cheese and have no idea what is was that she gave me. I'll have to return next sunday for the name of my mystery fromage.

The meal was a success in many ways. I pulled ideas from a 2000 Gourmet magazine special issue on Paris that my Nanny Murphy gifted me for Christmas. It is one of my most prized possessions. My menu included cereal bread from Eric Keiser's boulangerie, a mixed green salad with avocado, tomato, apple and a mustard vinaigrette, chicken marengo, whole wheat pasta with roasted haricoverts in a parsley, garlic and olive oil dressed and for dessert, home made crepes filled with a mystery soft cheese, sweetened slightly with a bit of sugar and bursting with fresh berries. We were filled to the bring by the time our dinner party came to a close. We enjoyed the meal and each other's company so much, it was far past midnight when the last bites were taken. Our meal together was perhaps one of the most memorable nights in Paris so far. Sharing delicious food with close friends is as fulfilling as it gets.

For your viewing pleasure, here are some photographs of how the meal developed. Enjoy!

Merry Mardi Gras to all! The streets of Paris are covered with masked school children and the smell of crepes. Fat Tuesday, sometimes known as Shrove Tuesday, is the last day of Carnival before Ash Wednesday and Lent begins.

Where as back in the United States some folks use Mardi Gras as an excuse to take off their clothes and down Hurricanes, here in Paris the festivities are a bit more PG. A day typically celebrated by kids, on Fat Tuesday Parisians schools look a bit like their American counterparts on Halloween. On my way to class this morning, I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a gremlin, a devil and a handful of kings sporting cardboard crowns.

What I did not know before today is that Mardi Gras is also known as "Pancake Day". Of course, pancakes here in France are really crepes. It was baffling to find out that I wasn't aware of a special day dedicated to one of my favorite snacks! Indeed, "Pancake Day" is a nickname given to Mardi Gras to accentuate Carnival coming to a close and to prepare Christians for Lent. Since Lent is a time of fasting, indulgent ingredients like milk, eggs and butter are technically supposed to be eaten in limited quantities. Of course in the year 2008 it's really the Nutella and the excessive amounts of Gruyere that are the real indulgences. Must we give up such sumptuous treats for the sake of our piousness? Surely there must be some kind of special dispensation for the chocolate and cheese lovers of the world.

Anyway, I figured it was my duty as a honorary Francophone to partake in such an infamous national holiday. I stopped at my local crepe man as I walked home from the gym. Tucked away in an empty storefront the size of a phone booth, this man is a crepe genius. Don't be fooled by the modest tinfoil and household paper toweling. This is street-cart gourmet at its finest!

Consider it the Parisian version of my a beloved bacon, egg and cheese sandwich from back home. I've traded in eggs, bacon and American cheese for eggs, jambon and gruyere. It may not beat the real thing, but it comes close enough.

56, rue de Passy. This academic nook tucked away in the shade of an old courtyard in the 16th, is home for the students at NYU Paris in more than one way. The beautiful maison has an air of comfort to it that coaxes students to stay beyond the hours of their normal courses. Often you can see friends sharing a sandwich in what was likely the old dining room downstairs, checking their mailboxes in the front entranceway or congregating around the bistro tables outside. Job postings, cultural events and other news is posted on the walls so that at times one can go days without seeing the paint in certain areas. The small staff and close quarters create an intimate atmosphere in which students develop a comfortable base. Although it certainly is the exact opposite of our metropolis of a campus back in New York, the NYU Paris building is as close to home as it gets for some students.

This monday, the regular class schedule commenced. My day began with Theater Workshop at 14:00. Professor Cecile Cotte leads the Theater Workshop and Acting French courses, both of which come together at the end of the semester for a final performance of "Simone de Beauvoir". Her genuine love of theater radiates whenever she speaks of the stage. Actually, the piece that we're performing was created by Cecile. The play is a montage of Beauvoir's memoirs as well as many love letter written over the course of her life.

The Theater Workshop is held in Salle 6, the largest room in the NYU Paris center. The eight of us who registered to take the course come from all different backgrounds, not all dramatic. From the few morsels of information Cecile was able to divulged about the show, it appears she'll be able to put all of our different talents to use. Percussion, hula-hooping, acting, dancing, singing, piano...no gift will go unused! As I'm sure you could understand, there are mixed feelings of excitement and fear regarding our future stardom. I will certainly keep you updated on the development of our production as the weeks pass.

At 16:00, it was time for Intensive Intermediate French. The spirited Nadine Airut directs this language course as well as another class entitled "French Through Song". Nadine was my grammar professor during the preliminary course. I'm so glad to have her as an instructor for the rest of the semester. She focuses heavily on the practicality of what we learn. The grammar and vocabulary that we study relates directly to our current lives in Paris instead of resting stagnantly on the pages of an outdated textbook. In fact, our vocabulary list is rather makeshift. As we speak about our weekends, our friends, places we've visited and foods we've tried, Nadine writes down the words she feels are imperative for us to remember. A secretary in the class copies down Nadine's notes and the following day we review the list as a whole. It's our responsibility as a class to choose what words we feel will be beneficial and the rest we discard. In my opinion, it's a very democratic process.

Today, Fat Tuesday, we attended French class again. Intensive Intermediate French is named such for a reason. It's intense! My classmates and I must be in language class four times a week for a total of six hours. To be honest, it doesn't seem too tedious having French class that frequently. I suppose it might be a bit too early to make that judgment though.

Let's see, tomorrow is Intensive Intermediate French and European Cinema. More updates to follow...enjoy!

" A man's home is his castle"

Funny how this American Proverb takes on new significance whence overseas. In a country where a man's home could truly be an aged castle, it becomes increasingly difficult to separate the haute from the historical. Only a few miles outside of Paris, streets are shaded by the vine covered gates of "grand residences" housing families no different than yours or mine. Even the most modest maison could make those at House&Garden or Town&Country green with envy. Yet there is no denying the unique grandeur of a few particular French Châteaus; charming escapes brimming with stories of a past both nobel and indulgent.

This past weekend I was submerged into the finery of château. Four days. Four chateaus, or castles if you will. While there are many magnificent homes both in and around Paris, clearly there are a handful that are well preserved and world renowned. Friday, in the chill of the early morning, a group of us huddled at the doors of three coach buses waiting to be whisked away into the countryside. This petite escapade was organized by NYU Paris as a celebration of our completion of the preliminary course. As we pulled away from the curb at Trocadero, we could see the lazy Parisian sun warming the Tour Eiffel one beam at a time...we were in for quite a delightful afternoon.

Our first stop, Château de Chantilly...
Like many of the gorgeous residences out in the country, this palace actually began as a hunting lodge. Mind you my brain has absorbed its share of château trivia in the past week, but for what I can remember Chantilly was owned by the Orgemont family, the Montmorency family and finally the Bourbon Condé family. The Bourbons, as you may already know, were the cousins of the King of France. Also, their collection of paintings serve as the main exhibits for the Condé Museum within the château.

There are so many famous images that you've seen over and over again, perhaps unconsciously, yet never really know who they're from or where they're housed. While wandering through the Condé Museum, I stubbled upon a number of paintings that I recognized. My most remarkable find was the portrait of Marie Antoinette displayed in the main gallery. This particular painting of the Queen was one I had become quite familiar with during my freshmen year at NYU. Sophia Coppola's movie had just been released, I was taking an honors seminar on Versailles with Guy Walton and my dorm room was proudly stocked with almost every current biography of Marie Antoinette for both papers and for personal interest. Needless to see, this portrait of Marie haunted my bookshelf for some time. I forget exactly which biography used it as its cover. Another painting many people recognized was of the three muses by Raphael. Unfortunately, the room in which it was displayed was a bit too dark for me to take a picture without a flash.

Après a long morning visit at they Château de Chantilly, our minds were absorbed with thoughts of our impending lunch at our next locale. I do admit, however, I was a bit reluctant to leave without tasting any Chantilly cream or seeing any Chantilly lace. Nonetheless, for the second time that day we piled onto the bus. With aching feet and hallow stomachs we were off to Château de Raray.

Now depending on your attitude towards beautiful old castels, Château de Raray may be considered a bit of a Château knock-off. At one time it was a beautiful home of some noble steed who's name I've yet to learn. Even more importantly, at one time this gorgeous mansion was the set of the 1946 film La Belle et La Bête. If you have never seen this Jean Cocteau film, you should. Not only is it a great piece of art but you can check out Château de Raray in all of its glory. Anyway, I call it a Château knock-off because currently it is not preserved as a museum and there are no magical beasts hiding in its dank corners. Now, Château de Raray is a golf resort. A magnificent golf resort really. Yet it just bothers me that this grand structure is now a site from athletic amusement and fine dining instead of historical appreciation. C'est la vie.

I really should not be complaining. We had a lovely lunch at Raray. The dining room was plush and elegant. I've become enamored with the abundance of oversized window treatments here in France. No matter what the view, things just appear charming when draped with richly colored satin. We took our last sips of café just as the sun began to sink into the afternoon haze. Before we began our return to Paris, we took some time to walk the grounds and soak in the golden glow.

Come Saturday, I had officially caught the château bug. Again I woke early to begin the journey to yet another fabulous residence. My friend Perrin and I met at the Gare de Lyon, grabbed two large café crèmes to go and chatted away as our train stormed its way out of Paris towards Fointainebleau-Avon. I first learned of the Château de Fontainebleau during my art history course on Versailles. Like many other royal getaways, the structure of the building was altered as each new king and each new group of artists came through. Fontainebleau is known particularly as Napoleon's favorite. In his apartments, you can still see his tiny little bed and his kiddy pool of a bathtub. He was must more petit than I had imagined.

Fontainebleau is also known from incorporating more modern Italian techniques into its architecture, however, even more notable are the gardens which are supposed to be stunning come spring. Perrin and I let ourselves get lost on the grounds for hours before roaming back into the town for a late lunch. Modern château living...not bad for a bunch of young girls right?

The final château wasn't really a château at all. Sorry to disappoint, but a change was in order! This afternoon a few classmates and I visited the home of author Honoré de Balzac with our professor. Surprisingly, his home in the 16th arrondissement has remained completely intact and is a mere two minute walk from our campus. The building itself is interesting. There are two entrances, one on street level and the other one practically through the roof. Our professor explained that this perk served as a wonderful benefit to Balzac when creditors were looking for their pay. Again, the rooms seemed extravagant despite their alleged modesty to the untrained eye of an american youth. It was fascinating to see the preserved pages of his many manuscript covered with slash marks, notes and large x's. I suppose such severe editing could make you feel much better about having your own papers massacred by the pens of hateful professors.

Now that this eventful weekend has come to a close, I've come to look at my little studio in the Latin Quarter with a whole new appreciation. If a man's home really is his castle, I suppose I'm living in a land of Kings.

The knot I managed to tangle in my stomach while sitting on the crowded bus to Beauvais Aeroport literally throbbed with each passing street sign. My nerves were inconsolable. The travel folder I had prepared weeks in advance sat open on my lap. It overflowed with confirmation numbers, receipts and photocopies of all of the documents one might need in any crisis; catastrophic or small. Over and over I read the papers. Double checking. Triple checking...sounds like a fantastic time, right?

Indeed it was! The worst is now over. All of the nail biting anticipation leading up to my first weekend excursion (sans assistance from any greater authority) was well worth it. On behalf of myself and two other NYU adventurers, I'd like to announce that Barcelona 2008 was an enormous success.

When it comes to organized travel, I must admit NYU Paris leaves a bit to be desired. There are only two trips planned outside of the Île-de-France in the coming weeks. A group of us will be escorted to Nimes for a "French Cowboy" and Roman ruins escapade on March 14th. In early April, another group will be traveling to Marseille. While it's appreciated that we only have to pay 30 euro for our voyages, as compared to the AUP students who shell out a bit more, I'd gladly empty my wallet for greater options. My dear friend Carrie, an NYU student currently studying at AUP, explains that they have the opportunity to go to all different location both in France and abroad during the semester. True, the prices are "steeper" for a student budget. Come on though. No matter what, we're all traveling at a discounted price.

To remedy our frustration, we have taken matters into our own hands and have planned trips accordingly. This past weekend began our exploration of the rest of Europe. First stop. Spain.

After an hour and a half bus ride from Port Malliot to Beauvais, an hour and a half flight from Beauvais to Girona, and finally an hour and a half bus ride from Girona to Barcelona...we found ourselves outside of #24 Qua Roger de Lluria.

I had found this apartment through Nicestay Barcelona. If you ever find yourself in Barcelona I highly recommend you use this site. Basically, you rent out a room in an apartment for a few nights at a ridiculously affordable price. To give you an idea, for three girls and three nights we ended up paying just under 60 euro each. Total.

We had a double bed, a pull out and a well loved mini-fridge in our bedroom. There was a bathroom down the hall that was all our own. We had access to their computer, kitchen, living room, balcony and extensive Spanish DVD collection (which unfortunately we never tapped).

I suppose the real question is, how do you milk the most out of a city like Barcelona in just three days? You hit the ground running, that's for sure. We set off right away to see some of Antonio Gaudi architecture.

The first Gaudi we came upon was the Casa Batlló. Some people call it the house of bones. Wedged between traditional spanish homes and your typical skyscrapers, Gaudi's work may seem more Disney than designer. Yet upon taking a second look, you realize just how impressive these buildings are. I wish I knew more about architecture so that I could appreciate the magnitude of creativity that must have went into making these homes. I was more taken by the odd shape of the windows and by trying to figure out how one would go about framing a structure like this. You can rent out rooms in the casa for different events. How awful would it be to have a wedding there? "House of Bones"...romantic. It just seems like a bad omen.

Casa Milà is only a short walk up the street. I was mislead by a guidebook that suggested the windows represented yawning mouths. Apparently, the lines of the building reflect the curves of the ocean waves. Let's just say it's shapely. We opted not to go into their building. Student Travel Tip: If you're working on a tight budget, prioritize. Which attractions you're willing to spend money on and where can you cut corners? While the insides of Guadi's buildings are certainly noteworthy, the general structure and facade are what one really must see. Instead of spending 16 euro to enter...we appreciated the free view from across the street and kept our wallets tucked away.

Clearly my largest priority in any situation is food. A great meal is one thing I am not willing to sacrifice. Of course, wherever you are, there are great eats at even better prices. Barcelona was no exception. We thought it only appropriate to kick off our spanish adventure with some regional faire. One paella pan and a pitcher of sangria later, ay Dios mio, our bellies were singing Barcelona's praises!

Our meal was followed by a siesta, which after a long travel day, ended up turning into a full night's rest. No harm done though. We were fresh and ready to go early the next morning. Carrie, Kristine and Myself strolled down the main street La Ramblas searching for a place to grab a strong cup of spanish coffee amidts the cafes and stores bustling with weekend visitors just like ourselves. Directly across from the opera house is the Cafe Opera (surprise, surprise) famous for both its dishes and its fantastic view. Student Tip: prioritize! Where as it would be nice to munch on warm pastries from such a well loved spot, we knew our needs would be just as well met by the popular "Cappuccino" next door. . After all, coffee was our immediate goal. "Cappuccino" even shared a terrace with Cafe Opera. Why splurge on your morning beverage when you don't have to? We sipped and chatted quite contently as we reminded one another, "Hey, we're in Barcelona right now." Caffeinated and ready for action, we then made our way to Placa de Catalunya.

Last year, my stunning godmother Aunt Eileen vacationed in Barcelona. Repeatedly she told me I simply had to use the "hop-on, hop-off" bus when I visited. Never underestimate the fantastic judgment of a well traveled family member! In one afternoon we were able to see more of Barcelona than we did during the rest of our time combined. It was just as vital to our experience as Aunt Eileen had explained.

Barcelona Bus Tours features three different lines: Red, Blue and Green. While some of the colors overlap at certain stops (scandalous, I know) for the most part the different paths take you to all different locations around the city. There is a ticket booth at Placa de Catalunya where you can buy a day pass for only 20 euro. There are over 40 stops that you can visit. You can get on and off the bus as many times as you'd like, for as long as you'd like, all day long. Even better, you get free headphones and a coupon booklet with discounts for all of the museums, sites and various restaurants around the city. Did I mention it's an open air bus?

The weather was intoxicating. Much warmer than Paris. The three of us plugged in our headphones and listened to the guided tour while we sat on the sun-drenched bus. Not a bad way to experience Spain, huh? There was even elevator music in between the dialog. Thanks for the tip Aunt Eileen!

MNAC

Since we had seen the Gaudi's the day before, we stayed on the bus until we reached Poble Espanyol, an open-air art museum near the MNAC. The "museum" itself is set up as a village with buildings inside representing the different periods of spanish architecture. The areas house museum exhibits, galleries, art classes, shops and cafes. We were dying to visit the Art Therapy workshop but it was closed. Instead we invaded the sculpture garden. Unintentionally we stumbled upon a glass blowing studio tuck away in one of the plazas. I had never seen molten glass before. It's blinding! I go to school in Manhattan, I know bright lights, but the glass was something else. Of course, with each new location comes a new opportunity to eat. I wish I had a better picture to share with you. We ate on the terrace of a cafe that was shaded by orange trees. You know how there are those handful of moments where you just close you eyes and wonder "how did I get here? Is this actually my life?" This was one of them. The buildings, the smell of oranges, the sun sinking in the sky and a piece of fresh melon draped with aged prosciutto...a more skillful writer would do the scene much more justice. I'll just let you enjoy the photos.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with other sites and bites. We went on a gondola ride that over looked the city.

On our way to the old port we passed all sorts of interesting sculptures. I think the sculptures were my favorite part of Barcelona. The Barcelona Aquarium was quite a treat as well. Not only did we get to see penguins, which made us so nostalgic of home, but there was an underwater shark tunnel as well. We might also have found Nemo...incase you're interested, he lives in Barcelona.

This is known as the "Happy Lobster Sculpture"

We wrapped up the touring part of our day with cotton candy and tango. What could be more perfect? Sweet and spicy.

One of the things we had planned was a visit to Milk, a lounge in the Gothic Quater that I read about on a food blog. It was voted one of the "Top 3 New Bars/Bistros" in Barcelona by Elle Magazine. Elle certainly knows best in this case. What a gem. Not only was Milk's menu completely creative, the decor was plush and their one Irish staff member quite attentive to our every need. The next morning we returned for their famous brunch. Fluffy pancakes with bananas and peaches drenched in Canadian maple syrup...they won me over, heart and soul. I think Carrie was afraid she might have to drag me out. Then again, her salmon eggs benedict was worthy of some plate licking as well.

Sunday, our final day in Barcelona. Carrie and I explored Barcelona on our own while Kristine made her way to the Soccer Stadium. We did have a stroke of bad luck for a while. Everything we wanted to see was closed. I keep forgetting the Sundays in Europe are not the same as Sundays in Manhattan. The most heartbreaking loss was missing out on the market near Ramblas. It's all I had been reading about prior to the trip! We shook off the defeat with two huge cups of coffee and a walk up to the "diagonal" street where we passed a Zara and a Mango while on the bus the day before. Since they are two Spanish based companies, it's said that their stores in Barcelona as very reasonably priced. Discounted Zara? Of course we were going to take the walk. Unfortunately, clothing store are also closed on Sunday in Barcelona along with everything else. By that time, the MNAC (another location on our list for the day) was closed. On our walk back we did see a sign for "free entrance" to the Spanish Art Museum. Yet the only part of the Spanish Art Museum that is opened to the public on Sundays is the lobby. What a deal. We salvaged the rest of our day with aimless meandering that proved to be very successful. We found some artisan stands that peeked our interest and went into the cathedral in the Gothic Quarter. The cathedral was beautiful. It was lush and tropical in a way that seemed too luxurious for a place of worship. Carrie, in an attempt to comprehend Christian extravagance, questioned why you'd had to pay to get into a gathering place for your own religion and why a building that should be associated with piousness was so obviously opulent. "Cathedrals are all a part of the 'My church is more bad-ass than yours' battle of the past", I explained. As for the price tag attached to 'the house of God', it's a question I often ask as well. Regardless, we enjoyed our time there. We were smitten with the swans.

When hunger struck, we shared some street sweets. Here's Carrie with our delicious juice. Honestly, fruit has never tasted better. It was just a blend of fresh mangos, pineapple and bananas. Eating in transit is an act we've pretty much mastered since we started sharing food with one another in Paris. We synchronize our pace with our sipping/eating. One sip, pass. One sip, pass. One bite, pass. One bite, pass. The juice was just the overture to the real treat though.

You didn't think I'd leave Spain without visiting a bakery did you? Of course not. For lunch we choose a selection of cookies from the plentiful display. The decision was difficult, I'm not going to lie. We ended up with an espresso shortbread, a hazelnut biscuit, a dipped cookie, a cream puff of sorts and a mystery cookie that I still can't identify. We sat in a plaza near the cathedral and munched. We attempted to console one another about the exams we had the following morning as soon as we arrived in Paris. The decision was made that we'd return to the apartment so that Carrie could snooze and recharge a bit and I could grab my books to go study.

I promise I was on my way to go study before I was distracted by my own desire to meander through the Gothic Quarter. For a few hours I got lost within the narrow streets and different parks. There were gardens, sculptures, dark corners and uneven cobble stones. Perhaps there was some gelato and falafel thrown in there as well. Eventually I did find a quiet plaza to study in. It just seemed unfair to Spain to focus all of my attention on memorizing French vocabulary while in the belly of one of it's finest cities.

The whole process of traveling as a student is amazing. The business of discount travel for young people, especially university students, is enormous and appears to be growing still. I'll definitely have more to share on this subject as the weekends pass and my suitcase is weathered. In the meantime, check out Ryanair, Easyjet, Skyscanner, Kayak, SNCF and Hostel World. Those are the sites I've used so far.

Things to watch out for:
-Traveler's insurance: it's an extra charge on the airline's websites. Say you don't need it and your tickets will be cheaper.

-If you're abroad and don't have access to a printer in your apartment, think twice about choosing the "online check in" option. If you can't print a boarding pass, and you opted for online check-in, you'll have to pay the 4 euros at the airport and they only take it by credit card.

-Don't pay more to check a bag. Select the carry on only option. Save money and the stress of heavy luggage. It's a weekend trip, how much could you possible need? Watch your liquids though. As long as they fit within one of those large plastic bags, you're good to go.

-Take note of what city you're flying into when using discount travel sites. For example: Ryanair says "Paris" but it's really "Paris-Beauvais". Beauvais is definitely not Paris. You'll have to plan transportation and transfers accordingly. Make sure you have an afforable way to get from the airport to your real destination. Otherwise, you might as well explore the option of paying a bit more for your ticket but actually getting to were you need to go.

-If you're paying on European based websites with a US credit card, there's an additional charge. Just be mindful of it.