Wednesday, August 15, 2007

I had never been more relieved to get off a plane than when I arrived in Paris after a long journey throughout which I felt feverish and nauseous. Was met at the airport by Marie and after a nutritious French breakfast of croissants, pain au chocolat, baguettes and coffee, moved on to Pierre's father's apartment in the middle of Paris, where I joined a Frenchman (Pierre), two Italians (Silvia & Chiara) and a Dane (Carsten). The soldiers patrolling the local train station with machine guns (an anti-terrorism measure) added to the sense of unreality induced by lack of sleep anad jetlag. My first night was almost sleepless and was filled with semi-conscious delerious nightmares that I had to sort out the bedsheets and figure out which ones could be submitted to Medicare for reimbursement (evidently there are scars from my time as a Claims Handler...)

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Eiffel Tower, Paris, July 07

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"Bastard Family" in Parisian cemetary, July 07

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With Rose, Paris July 07

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With Isabelle, Yasin, Silvia & Carsten, Paris July 07

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Notre Dame, Paris July 07

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View from Pierre's father's apartment in Montparnasse: Eiffel Tower by night, Paris July 07

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With fake smile & Silvia, Paris 07


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Drinking a Kronenbourg 1664 for Mike: Montmatre, Paris, July 07

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Montmatre, Paris, July 07

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With Pierre, Montmatre, Paris, July 07


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Montmatre, Paris, July 07

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My new workplace, Paris, July 07

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The Catacombes, Paris, July 07

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The Catacombes, Paris, July 07

Some cheerful thoughts from the Catacombes:

"Pensez le matin que vous n'irez pas etre pas jusques au soir et au soir que vous n'irez pas au matin" (Think in the morning that you may not make it till the evening and in the evening that you may not make it till the morning)

"Heureux celui qui a toujours devant les yeux l'heure de sa mort et qui dispose tous les jours a mourir" (No translation for fear of inaccuracy and consequential taunting by cruel Fwenchman...)

"Il est quelquefois plus avantageux de mourir que de vivre" (It is sometimes more advantageous to die than to live)


Romi arrived in Paris at some point, as is evident from subsequent photos...

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With Romi, Paris, July 07

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Fine specimen of an arrogant Frenchman with croissant, Paris, July 07

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Romi dressed for Parisian summer, July 07

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Romi & Pierre, Paris, July 07

Reluctantly I left Paris on 29th August and headed down to Grenoble, a town in the French Alps where I am to spend the first half of my year in France. As usual, I had a stupid amount of luggage.

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With stupid amount of luggage yet again, Paris July 07

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View from dorm room in Grenoble, Aug. 07

I arrived exhausted and discovered that I was to live in a dorm that takes the concept of"basic" to the extreme, but at least the view was good!

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View from dorm room in Grenoble, Aug. 07

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With Alex in Nimes, Aug. 07

It soon ( I would go as far as to say almost immediately) became obvious that I could not tolerate the dorm for half a year, as much as I enjoyed the odour of sewerage from the bathroom plumbing and oil from the deep fryer in the kitchen. To my great joy, I have just moved into an apartment in what appears to be the kebab district. I share the apartment with a Frenchman, a cat ('Chausettes'), a gerbil and often, the majority of the town's gay community (a lovely bunch of guys who call me "Mademoiselle"). The view from the apartment is also quite spectacular and I take much pleasure in sitting on the terrace dunking my baguette into a large bowl of coffee.

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View from apartment, Aug. 07

Slowly I am adapting to my new lifestyle, though my French is still far from fluent. Fortunately my French class has just been given a new teacher, who is far less pushy and more cynical than the last, and to whom I took an immediate liking. The university semester starts in one month; trying to follow courses in French will be challenging but hopefully not impossible.

Sunday, November 19, 2006





QuizGalaxy!
'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com
Australia Road Trip # 3 - Elena, Romi & Eun-Ju

Day 1
After staying up all night finishing my last uni assigment for the year, at 7:30am I was half delerious and ready to embark on our journey. The day's hightlight was a brief stop at Woodstock Hotel (which despite the name, had more no free love and dope, but rather, local yokels who for some reason found Romi extremely humorous). Finally, we arrived in Grenfell, once home to Henry Lawson - the town's one claim to fame. Too tired to pitch a tent, we instead opted for a cheap motel with "tasteful" 70's decor and a cynical, world-weary owner who sarcastically informed us that Grenfell was the most exciting town west of Sydney. For dinner, the most viable option was the local Chinese restaurant. Assurances by Romi and I that this was an authentic Australian experience were met by Eun-Ju with scepticism, but we all enjoyed the meal regardless.
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Annandale
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Woodstock Hotel

Day 2
The flat tyre we discovered in the morning was but a minor setback, and we were soon on the road again. The day's activities included lunch in the self-proclaimed "Shire of Bland" and yoga outside the public toilet block in Rankin Springs, the latter which was met with odd looks from passers by. We set up camp for the night in Balranald - it took us a mere hour to get the tent pegs sufficiently deep in the rock hard ground, a feat which was only achieved once we resigned ourselves to the fact that we would have to find someone in posession of a mallet. Before bed, Eun-Ju and I went for a walk in town, where local youths, who appeared to be no older than twelve, rode up and down the street making passes at us.
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Public toilet - Rankin Springs

Day 3
In the light of day, we came to notice that the town was being taken over by frogs; they were everywhere, stealing trolleys of food from the supermarket, wheelbarrows from the hardware store... We went to the local RSL (another not-to-be-missed authentic Aussie experience for Eun-Ju) and stuck around for the Melbourne Cup, for which Romi picked the winning horse. After purchasing a fly net hat to complete the tourist look, we left the town and headed to our first planned destination - Mungo National Park. Upon arrival, we picked out a campsite in an open, windy area just metres from the shelter of a large mulga tree; a decision we regretted greatly that night when our tent very nrealy blew over.At sunset, we decided to take a stroll through the beautiful park to the visitor's centre a couple of kilometres away. By the time we had begun to head back to the tent, it was extremely dark, and Romi became more than a little concerned when a passing park ranger stopped his car to warn warn us of nocturnal snakes native to the area. As we later discovered, the area is home to four of the world's top ten most deadly snakes.
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Romi - Balranald
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Mungo National Park

Day 4
Awoke to find one of our biscuits decidedly smaller than it had been the night before, but as everything else appeared to be intact, we thought nithing of it. Enjoyed a lazy morning before succumbing to the needs of our inner tourists and booking ourselves on a sunset tour with an Aboriginal guide who captured Romi's heart. After the obligatory didgeridoo (or yidakee) demonstration, we walked along the "Walls of China" sand dunes, where winds and rain have exposed ancient fireplaces containing animal bones dated tens of thousands of years old. Late that night, the furry culprit of the previous night returned to very audibly ransack the annex of the tent.
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Eun-Ju
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Roger
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Mungo Lunette
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Elena & Romi - Lake Mungo
Day 5
More evidence of the biscuit thief - another biscuit, still perfectly round, but again smaller than usual... Left the national park and journeyed to Wentworth, where the Darling and Murray rivers meet. It was quite hard to believe that this town had once seriously been considered as a contender in the search for the town which would become Australia's capital city. Under the pretense of practicing her English (a poor excuse indeed), Eun-Ju purchased Mills and Boon novels from the local Hardware store/op shop. We then spent the evening on the beautiful red sand hills on the edge of town, where we watched the sun set.
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Elena & Romi - Wentworth
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Day 6
The day was stiflingly hot, so we went for a swim in the surprisingly cold river before heading to Broken Hill.
Eun-Ju was excstatic about our decision to take the lazy option and stay in a caravan, an experience which she claimed made her feel like a movie star.
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Romi & Eun-Ju - Wentworth
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Eun-Ju - Broken Hill
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Trailer Trash
Day 7
The extreme temperature continued. Upon waking, we peeled Romi of the vinyl mattress and ventured up the café atop the slag heap for a morning coffee. The rest of my day was almost identical to my previous trip to Broken Hill in March, so a photographic explanation will probably suffice...
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Eun-Ju & Romi - Café on Slag Heap, Broken Hill
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Royal Flying Doctors Service - Broken Hill
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Mario's Palace Hotel - Broken Hill
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Day 8
Drove to Silverton, a virtually abandoned mining town, where we saw art galleries and the old gaol, as well as visiting ye olde café and the famous Silverton Hotel. In the evening, we arrived in White Cliffs, another mining town which was once prosperous but today has very few mines and less than 200 residents, the majority of them living in underground dugouts. Unable to resist its tourist appeal, we checked in to the world's largest underground motel for the night, where the only other guests were a (slightly disturbing) couple from Campbelltown.
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Silverton
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Postman Pat - Silverton
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Romi, Elena & Eun-Ju - Silverton Hotel
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Hurrah, a pit stop!
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Dugout - White Cliffs
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Day 9
After a bit of fossicking in the mounds surrounding the hundreds of abandoned mines and a very quick drive through Wilcannia (with car doors locked), we stopped for the night in Nyngan, a sleepy but pleasant enough town situated on the banks of the Bogan River.
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Day 10
Left the caravan park in the Bogan Shire and drove to Sydney's own boganville, the Central Coast, where we spent the night.
Day 11
Back to reality and Sydney traffic jams after a fine holiday.