To van Gogh

I like picking my travel choices based on whims.  This time, I decided to go to Arles, where van Gogh painted one of my favorites...Starry Night over the Rhone.  I saw the painting in person a few years ago in Paris.  It was the only painting I took a photograph of while I did a slow pilgrimage through the art museums.

I decided that I wanted to stand on the banks of the Rhone.  I wanted to see the Big Dipper from the side of the river.  I knew very well that I wasn't going to see it in the exact orientation that van Gogh did, but I couldn't resist the opportunity I had.

The internet has the exact location, but I got liked the location I picked, which was pretty close.  I stood there during the day and again at night when I got to see the Big Dipper over the Rhone.  It was an exceptionally satisfying experience.

I spent the rest of the single day I had in Arles enjoying the Roman remains in Arles.  The amphitheater and arena were just exceptional.  The amphitheater was incredibly well preserved in the way of seating, but the decorative pillars and various other elements were piled up and off to the side.  There were some pillars that had been righted, but they only flanked a small portion of the stage.

I bought a ticket that was to get me into both the Roman attractions.  I headed over to the arena, and to my great annoyance, I couldn't get in.  This was oddly reminiscent of the day some time ago when I went to Nîmes and couldn't get into the Roman arena because there was a Radiohead concert that night.

I couldn't admit defeat yet again by being turned away from the arena.  I came to discover that there would be a "spectacle" that night.  The French word is spelled that way and implies a show of non-specific sorts, this one was evidently going to be Roman-themed.

Only right now when typing the word and realizing it's a cognate do I understand why what I ended viewing was the tackiest possible rendition of the various uses of a Roman arena.  I've always taken "spectacle" to have a slightly negative connotation.  It was somehow glorious through it's obvious staging, poor sound quality, and very well-trained horses.  The lesson that I am going to take from this is that when I'm using French, I've begun internalizing the language such that I don't have to translate everything to English in my head first.

Bordeaux Train Station

I left the Basque region for an excursion to my beloved southern France.

I took an early train from Biarritz to Bordeaux.  Bordeaux is not southern France, so I had a fresh croissant at a café across the street from the station and then took another train.

There's a theme in these posts...I'll have to go back to Bordeaux.  At the very least because I didn't have any wine.

Then I was on to Arles.

The Basque Region

At the end of August, I spent a week in Biarritz, France, which is on the Atlantic coast just above Spain.  I was there for a conference, so I didn't get to see too much of the city.  The conference center overlooked the beach nicely.

I had wanted to go to Biarritz for some time.  My college French professor always talked about how she spent summers there with her family.  She made Biarritz sound beautiful.  It is.

I had never been to the Basque region before, but I know now that I need to go back.  The buildings are beautiful.  The food is delicious (French with a Spanish influence).

I took a boat trip departing from the small town of Saint-Jean-de-Luz.  I could see Spain from the boat.  More specifically, I could see the Pyrenees, but in reality, I saw the French side of the Pyrenees and Spain was on the other side.

Because I knew hardly anyone at the conference, and the few people that I did know weren't on that particular excursion, I wandered around the town alone.  I got to eat large amounts of gelato and stand with my feet in the ocean.  I climbed a hill in order to get a good view of the city, only to find that the past inhabitants of Saint-Jean-de-Luz decided to give their dead the best view of the city.

The days of the conference were long.  I met a lot of good people, hopefully good connections for my future.  The talk that I gave seemed to be well-received, so who knows what will happen.

Since I hardly got to know the town, I will have to go back.  Especially since my souvenirs got stolen, but we'll get to that in a few posts.

Indianapolis

I was in Ann Arbor for a few days in August between Pasadena and France.  A friend and I decided to spend a day driving to Indianapolis to see a concert because we wanted to.  We got there, saw the city's mural tribute to one of my favorite authors, ate dinner in a popular artsy neighborhood, saw the concert, and turned around.  Why not?

...prepare for failure rather than success, since failure is the main thing that is going to happen...  (Hocus Pocus, Vonnegut)