Shants in France

My name is Shantelle and I'm currently in Europe, about to study in Paris for a semester. I've been traveling since late June and feel like August is the right time to start blogging.

[shantellehermi]

I've been in the UK for just under a week and I think I've adjusted to all the fluent English spoken around me. In that short time period I've spent hours at Primark, bought a wand from the Harry Potter gift store, seen Hagrid's cottage, drunk butterbeer, visited Windsor Castle, worn Barbie socks, eaten my first Yorkshire pudding and enjoyed roasted water buffalo. 2014 has definitely started on a high note. Give it a week, the English chatter will be gone, I'll be in Marrakech and then counting down my final month in Europe. The end is nigh but the ride has been amazing and nap-worthy.

[direwolvv]

did she get a haircut

[shantellehermi]

My weekend in Istanbul

My brief time in Turkey was two things: enjoyable and abundant with cats. I should have known I was in for an interesting weekend from my flight. I was blessed with the ingredients needed to create a blog-worthy experience. I’ve flown with Airfrance before and had a really nice experience. This one made me want to say words on a plane you’re not supposed to just to be rid of the hyperventilating young girl behind me who yelled ‘help’ at every bout of turbulence and who also didn’t know the difference between the fabric of my chair and my jumper but was ever so determined to have something on which to cling. She was ok though. The flight attendant was very attentive with her and assured her she was safe, all the while knocking me with her jacket as she leaned in towards the girl and ignored my desire for food and water. Highlight: “this water bottle is empty, let me fetch another from my colleague.” (To my right) “Ladies, tea? Coffee? Water? Here is a fresh bottle”. Guess who held her cup out embarrassingly too long? Apparently my being asleep for the food count meant I was not eligible once awake. Not to worry, I don’t eat salmon and I got mine come apple cake and beverage time! The last thing I want to note from the flight was the man in front of me who used an Australian $10 note as a bookmark. I’m still not entirely certain what that says about him nor the Australian economy. Why not a $5? I finally got into the passport line - very long as they did not have it ordered into categories. FYI a lot of countries require 90 day visas for Turkey which can be acquired online for US$60 or upon arrival at the clearly marked VISA stations before the passport line. I cannot stress enough how big and colourful (flags will do that) these signs were. There were also more at the entrance to the passport queue and these were accompanied by a request to “have the visa page of your passport open”. A clear invitation. After at least 20 minutes in this line I got to know my fellow travellers a little better. For instance, I know the American lady who was speaking to a German couple really likes Munich and has been there many times over the years. She is also pretty helpful to younger travellers who need a bit of guidance and confident aid in pushing forth to get to their connecting flight on time. I also know that the French lady between us likes to shake her head to express her disapproval to English speakers in such situations and I’m still not sure if she was the mother or wife of the man accompanying her or if she just greyed sooner than him. What I do know is that he is her keeper of the straight and narrow and likes to distract her from her anger by noting that the lights in the airport are nice, for an airport. Yes, always distract angry women with shiny things. Literally brilliant.

This eventually came to an end but I was to find out that most things on this voyage would take more time than I’d like.

I quickly got into a taxi - originally asking one man and showing him my address on my phone and getting into the taxi of another, following his direction. This man never saw the address and shared too few words to know where I was going so, naturally, 5 minutes in he stopped on the side of a highway and put his lights on so he could ask me where to go. I soon learned the word “bigger” in Turkish, which I have since forgotten - my bad, as he tried to enlarge the text of my screen shot address, something he figured out after the third time once his confidence built. At one point he was cruising along, so happy, a fellow taxi driver spoke to him through his window at a set of lights and their conversation continued through another two sets. It’s nice to get along with colleagues. We eventually made it to the correct area of Istanbul but my hostel and street were out of sight so he decided to park near a hotel and ask the porter there for help. He sent us right. We then asked another man on a corner, he sent us right. The third man sent us right and, I know what you’re thinking, yes, we went full circle and ended up at the hotel again but with a different porter who must have said something along the lines of “go straight and drop her off on the street so she can walk to the hostel” because that is what happened next. The street was too full for access from his direction so he capped my trip at 50 TRL called it a day. Considering how hungry and tired I was, he was a nice man, he did what he had to to get me there but I still resent asking for the address 5 TRL into the trip. Notable things along the journey were pretty much repeats of the same thing: lots of men sitting on grass. Along the highway, in parks, in pairs, in big groups, one just playing a guitar and, in effect, serenading others around him. Some men had only food and or drinks between them, some had card tables and chairs, others had fires they built themselves. These images were pretty repetitive along the way from the airport and I saw more of it once in the tourist areas.

Once I saw my friend, Cam, the fun began. Bags away, we hit the streets and visited the surrounding sites. I wish I could give more details but as I write this I’m fighting a similar amount fatigue and hunger that I did at the time but judging from my photos, I ate a kebab plate and drank apple tea, walked around the blue mosque and the gardens around the museums. We had Turkish ice cream and then moved on to dinner which was stuffed eggplant and cherry juice followed by a dinner show of neighbourhood cats fighting near a rubbish bin, which we filmed and photographed. Sunday was our full day out after going to sleep at 9:30. We went to the spice bazaar and sampled Turkish delight, bought tea glasses and spoons, took touristy photos and then went back to the blue mosque for more amazing photos. We stopped for dessert before our evening photos and had an assorted plate of baklava with coffee. I wasn’t looking when I put what I thought was a sugar cube in my coffee and ultimately ruined it. I got up at 3am to dress and accidentally wore the Birks of the girl on the top bunk to the bathroom. Highlight: same size. Winning! Istanbul was amazing. Cam was a great partner in crime and the guard at the airport was super nice thus ending my stay on a high note. No sleep was had thanks to a very loud-snoring roommate so fingers crossed I make it home with all of my belongings.

Until next time

[shantellehermi]

Following my post, here are some photos to go along with it

[shantellehermi]

My first week of classes

This week has been filled with fun: music, dancing, food and sun.

I won't lie, I saw the chance to rhyme and I took it.

I started off the week with my first class on Tuesday evening - Italian. Not gon' lie nor try, it wasn't the best language class I've experienced but not bad. I'll try to forget the expression my teacher had on her face that just reeked of miscomprehension (Why are you Australian? Why do you sound like that? Where on earth is your kangaroo?)

Wednesday saw a much better experience: French, and Food: A Social and Cultural Geography. Good times, charming teachers and interesting content, and Friday ended at 09:15pm after La Gastronomie à la Française, interesting but boringly presented by an ever so quirky teacher (I see next week being much better).

In between the classes much more interesting things were happening. Quick recap: ice cream displayed as such that it resembled a flower, an erasmus party at a club, the purchase of Aperol, the arrival of my new laptop, an Australian voting gathering at the embassy, a Thai festival and a Tim Tam experience for my housemates.

I didn't think I'd be so busy that I'd forget hilarious or noteworthy things that occurred during the week but it turns out I was :/

Things I learned this week:

On Macs you use command and not control - cool cool cool.

Not only do the French not believe in air conditioning but they don't seem to believe in dressing for the heat either - hey, you southern hemisphere cretin, take off those thongs and tank top and prep a crisp collar and loafers!

The lady from the post office is my new sworn enemy and I resent her and everything she stands for.

In other news, I bought 30 postcards and, funnily enough, 30 stamps. If anyone receives a card with a lipstick smooch and 'Love from Paris' on it, please know that you were last.

[shantellehermi]

Paris so far...

It's been over a week since I moved into my apartment and I've learned many things in that time. 1. You can't be overdressed for uni in Paris 2. Peanut butter is a very important American staple 3. Giant macaroons should be standardised 4. French music festivals are very chilled out 5. The French feel no need to adopt the proper use of 'macchiato' 6. Sour cream is overrated I suppose a lot has happened but the highlights thus far have been the Eminem concert, the Rock en Seine music festival and the discovery of 1664 Blanche. That lemony twist at the end of the sip really makes it. Also, potential highlight: I ordered in Italian at our local pizza place and even had myself a little conversation. This is a double highlight as, personal insight, apparently I feel more comfortable speaking languages outside of their designated country. Who knew?

[shantellehermi]

My second day at my new apartment: spent inside and outside on the step, desperately awaiting my concert ticket. I resent my street for being full of vans and trucks. Tease. Our place is behind the main apartment building through a tiny, almost non existent, courtyard and there is no doorbell. This is an issue since it has been stressed to me that I must sign for the ticket - further stressing ME! Many snap chats will be made once I have that beautiful Eminem ticket in my hand. There will be celebratory tea and biscuits as my open bottle of red has a fly in it. #notok Meanwhile, all I want to do is adorn my side of the room with photos and hanging paper bulbs in lovely pastel hues. But I can't. I'm trapped. I'm jonesing to decorate like I have a being residing in my womb, and I am forced to ignore this urge and wait patiently. All I've gotten to do is add olive oil, garlic, two types of pepper and earl grey to the kitchen, you know, the staples, and that will have to do for now. Next stop: ticket gaining

[shantellehermi]

The day it begins

Today I move in to my apartment! It is also the day Momo booked her flight to visit so there is a lot that has made me excited this morning. The only thing that has paused this joy is the giant horse hound I just saw as I looked up through the window of the hostel... Sweet merciful! Oh the French and their hounds.. I just remembered that last night I booked my ticket to see Eminem on Thursday! Excitement refocused! My housemate Stephanie picks up the keys to our place at 2pm so I shall meet her there in a few hours. I'm sure I'll have an update in the evening, and photos. Until then!

[shantellehermi]

Up top we have my Parisian sliders and the $4 long mac I had this morning at a food market in Copenhagen. I wish it was worth it. On the blackboard we see Laila's (Lorraine's) lovely message to me (Sharon) in their apartment and below we have the chocolate almond cake I made with love on my last night there. Even got the candle holder in there! It's spins!

[shantellehermi]

Up top we have my Parisian sliders and the $4 long mac I had this morning at a food market in Copenhagen. I wish it was worth it. On the blackboard we see Laila's (Lorraine's) lovely message to me (Sharon) in their apartment and below we have the chocolate almond cake I made with love on my last night there. Even got the candle holder in there! It's spins!

[shantellehermi]

My last day in the 'Mark

Today I left Copenhagen, I wouldn't say unwillingly but I wouldn't say willingly either. Yep, I'm in Paris now and I'm THAT girl. The one who is, for some reason, not bothered about being in the city of lights. Let us speculate, oh that's right, I MOVE IN ON MONDAY! Spending a weekend alone will pass quickly but I do miss being around an apartment full of people. Let's be clear: I love Copenhagen. I had the best time and met some lovely people, and, let's be real: I discovered the snegl. A snail shaped pastry delight. I spent my last night in the country of Frederiks and Christians at a tunnel party. The other day it was a party on a metro. Find a microwave big enough and I'm sure they'd a Dane would sanction a party inside it. Don't get too excited, while the shell of the soirée is outside the box and indie as a Dane in Sweden, it's the same old sweat and smokers cough combination that fills the "room". The only thing different would be the spray paint fumes, I suppose. Perhaps take a pregnancy test before heading down to the next tunnel party. The city of Copenhagen is creative with its activities, and I appreciate that, but tunnels + me = a hot mess of confusion. PS music with words is sometimes nice, Denmark. Now in Paris, I'm sitting in the bar of my hostel eating sliders, drinking a cider and listening to Americans chat about how they meet Australians everywhere. Perhaps I won't introduce myself... Or the waiter from Karratha.. Who got their order wrong. Awks. Saturday night in Paris! Whoo! Can't wait to watch Grey's Anatomy on my iPad behind my bed curtain and dream of having an address.

[shantellehermi]

A Danish Metro Party: Today is the day upon which I was supposed to go to Rome to meet a friend in Naples. Yesterday morning I received a Facebook message from her warning me to stay away as she found it to be hellish and unwelcoming beyond the point of salvation. It's hard not to follow her instructions when all of her text is in capital letters, something I should be used to but still read in a screaming voice in my head. We shall meet up somewhere later. Never fear. Instead of awaking at 4am and flying out, I slept in until 8:30, stayed in my PJs until 11:45 and didn't leave the apartment until it was time to hop on the metro for a party. So Danish. Not really. The last part was though. The last part is what I photographed.

[shantellehermi]

Today we went to a Danish street festival, similar to the one on Beaufort Street at home in Perth but because festivities aren't such a rare treat here, it wasn't as big, but did have a similar vibe. The photos on the right as well as the one in the middle are of today. Please note that the top row of photos are so NOT Danish. From left (top & bottom) to right: we are eating Thai food. Not Danish. What IS Danish, however, is the price. AU$17 for pad Thai. Not gon' lie... Worth it. Down the bottom we have a bacon wrapped sausage with a relish type tomato sauce and mustard. The sausage was probz somewhere from Eastern Europe. At least, it would be if my Danish was better and I was able to verify that so, as it stands, it's Danish. Two things that make it Danish: I bought it from a street vender and it cost AU$7. Side note: the bun was sold separately. So Danish. Time for Lucy! Above we have a happy-go-lucky Australian with the briefcase of a Frenchman and a Danish beer in hand. Almost very Danish... Except this bitch be smilin'. Never fear, she got real Danish real quick with her trusty scowl. As you can see I did the same on the end but am on a train. I also made the choice to wear the national colour of black and wear a scarf. A scarf with images of bugs on it. Thanks, Top Shop. Alas, despite any effort I make, I will never be Danish. Peroxide blond would cause people to question why I thought it was ok to dress up as Halle Berry from X-Men for more than the duration of a costume party, as well as why I chose her specific portrayal rather than the original, I would assume. Lastly, in the middle we have Miss Lucy pointing with her eyes to the delightful gentleman in the cutoff denim shorts and a fringe of which I am jealous. This and the free coffee I scored from a retailer upon purchase because she happened to have an extra cup (very pricey, more so than Perth) pretty much summed up our afternoon. So Danish.

[shantellehermi]

Giant seagull near pigeons in order to make comparisons, giant seagull near bikes and giant seagull on a light post Notice how giant seagull is alone. Most likely because it would eat all others who try to approach it. Birds are wary, especially after that whole "pelican eating a pigeon" incident in Hyde Park http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=QNNl_uWmQXE&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DQNNl_uWmQXE

[shantellehermi]

Day 2 in Copenhagen

3 Things I've learnt in Copenhagen about Copenhagen: The metro trains are automatic The seagulls are the size of wombats (shout out to home, my first ever wombat reference) Getting smiled at is overrated. Let us address these items individually. 1: The metro. Lucy so kindly pointed out that some of the metro trains have no drivers. You can sit in the front of the train with a clear view of your track. A pessimist might say you can see your death coming towards you but how many people do we know who get hit by or crash on public transport vehicles that often? 2: Seagulls should have a standard size. Not too different from the carry-on luggage allowance on low cost airlines. Your dog shouldn't be scared of a seagull and, frankly, such a bird should fit on your plate. 3: I've learnt that to seemingly be lacking in emotion is very Danish. A death stare is a necessity for a people with hearts of gold to match their locks. I quite like this. Reaching the soft centre kind of makes you feel like you're in on the joke although no one is laughing, they're all too busy being stoic. Despite my vaguely racist tour guide, day 2 in Copenhagen was a success

[daysindenmark]

So today Shantelle arrived at my Copenhagen apartment (shared Kollegium dorm, let’s be real) and we made stir fry, learnt not to buy belgian beer, and dropped a soupy balloon of potatoes four stories down the rubbish chute and had a good giggle at the distant explosion.  I also learnt the word for peckish in Danish

[shantellehermi]

Jealous of these Danish hash tags.

[shantellehermi]

Apparently Danish potatoes decompose faster than Australian ones? I came across this in Lucy's cupboard then grabbed the rubber gloves and opened the door to the rubbish chute as she dropped the hellish vegetables down to their explosive end. Not a real end, I suppose, someone will have to deal with it in the morning...