When I start getting comments about how I never blog
anymore, I guess that means I should write something. Or maybe it means I
should just quit before people (one or two of them anyway) are tired of hearing
from me. But then what would I do with all the great photos I take while
traveling? Because actually, since I last wrote, I’ve been in 7 countries (I
think-I lose count sometimes) and I have taken about 20 photographs. I would have taken more, but
since I got to France, I’ve allowed all my friends with fancier cameras and superior
photography skills to take over that job for me. They then tag me on Facebook
so Mommy can see the photos, not that she cares—she is with the grandbabies
right now, but at least I have done my filial duty.
I have a theory about travel photography. I think that if
someone really cares to see what some famous place is like, that person will go
onto the internet and do a few image searches and find some truly impressive
pictures of beautiful places that will not have me smiling like an idiot,
obstructing the view of whatever. These
photos will be perfectly framed and will not be missing pieces of buildings or
cause the viewer to feel slightly off-balance, trying to take in a sight that was
never meant to be squished into the window of an iPhone. If, however, the
aforementioned internet-photo-searcher person has minimal to no interest in a
place, he or she will probably not want to spend precious time scrolling
through hundreds of photos of the side of my thumb + the Eiffel tower/Notre
Dame/Charles Bridge/the Sydney Opera House/etc. So when I take travel photos
my goal is to put my face somewhere near the famous thing as proof I was there
(for posterity and other interested parties of this day and age) and let you do
your own Internet searching, if for some reason my photo sparked some interest
in you. You’re welcome, Reader. Your time is important to me. That said, read
on if you want to waste some of it on a few photos of my face near famous
things.
Let's go in chronological order.
Here is half of my face (and if you think this half is good, you should see the other one-but if you do you won't get to see the famous thing because then my face would be blocking it) by the Sydney Opera House:
How great am I at photography? Behold the Harbor Bridge and the Opera House in one easy photo. Time-saving.
Australian flags prove what country it is, plus can you see the people up there on the bridge? I would have done that, but my love for doing dangerous things is usually trumped by my hatred of spending money. That's why I've never been sky-diving or bungee jumping. Why are all the fun things so expensive?
Panorama photo skillz. Scott is such a great teacher.
Opera House bathroom for my mother. She knows why.
From Australia I went to Sudan where I spent a few days sorting out visa stuff. Then I left for France, where I am currently. But I had to go via Prague because it's me, and my life doesn't like to do things conventionally. This is my only photo from Sudan (though you can see many more here and elsewhere on this blog, but I'm only giving one link because I'm lazy). This blurry photo depicts a Sudanese man repacking his suitcase in the airport. I appreciated it because (and you can't really tell so you have to trust me) his suitcase is full of white robes exactly like the one he is wearing now. That's it. A suitcase full of white robes. I wish my life was that easy. Also, I'm glad I don't do his laundry. Of course, he probably doesn't do his own laundry either...
Voila! I made it to Prague. Why did I go there to get to Paris, you ask? Because I waited until the last minute to buy tickets because I wasn't sure until the last minute that it was going to work out and when I tried to by tickets at the last minute, they were thousands of dollars more than I planned to pay. But I found a relatively cheap ticket to Prague and from there a bus to Paris. It was an adventure that involved me lugging my backpack around Europe and navigating the public transportation systems in several countries, but it worked out. And isn't Prague pretty? (No face to mess up these photos)
It's me again! I'm listening to the Moldau while crossing over the Moldau on Charles Bridge. Only with one ear because Safety and Security. A dream fulfilled since my mother used to read us the biographies of various composers and then make us listen to their most famous pieces. It worked out though, because I do love me some Smetana.
Here is me in the square with the famous Astronomical Clock tower and the statue of Jan Hus, neither of which you can really see in this photo. But it's OK. I know if you really cared about those things, you would have already looked them up online ages ago.
I don't speak Czech, but I think this is an advertisement for foster care or orphans or haircuts for children or something like that. It's not important. Sisters and Bros-in-law: who does this kid look like to you? (Emily, you can also answer if you are not watching football online at midnight or wrangling children or cooking some really good food that you are not sharing with me. Selfish.)
And you are caught up on my life because here begins the photos from my time in France, which is actually where I am right at this very moment.
French cooking class. It was optional. Why did I choose it? To learn to cook? Of course not. Do you know me at ALL? The other class was in English and that is boring, so--cooking. As usual, I ended up being the one who stirred the things. It's my one skill in the kitchen.
Parc de Sceaux by bike with Claire. Because it's great to be in a bike friendly country. I mean, I have a bike which I rode in South Sudan, but I wouldn't go right to "bike friendly" when talking about South Sudan. I did have a great bicycle repair guy who constantly fixed my punctured tires for me. "I think you are too heavy for your bike," he said to me. But even though my bike repair guy clearly called me fat to my face, I still let him fix my bike because of his convenient location next to my house and the frequency of my punctured bike tires. At least I'm not too fat for the bike I borrow from the school, I don't think. I have not busted any tires yet anyway.
A clearer picture of the chateau which is tilted unfortunately, because I think I have an inner ear problem or something like that. It would explain why I ran into a cow the second day on my bike in India (another bike that had tires strong enough to hold up this fatty) and bonked the rearview mirror of an unfortunate French woman on my way to Paris yesterday.
Yes to this. All of it. The new and improved name and the actual thing inside the package, which I like to refer to as "dinner."
I mean it has FRUITS (a thing has the taste of something because it IS that something, naturally). It's right there in writing. It's obviously good for me.
Went to an art exhibit by the Seine with a cool and cultured friend. We suffered through the rain. She took some artsy photos that I will share with you here and I made her take a selfie because I'm classy like that.
See? She is a photographer.
And proof that we were right by the river:
And also this happened. We were walking innocently down the road when we were invited to join a sing-a-long for peace and love. They handed us song sheets and just like that we were part of the choir. We were an amazing addition to the group.
So I went to the Palace of Versailles, but I went with friends who take better pictures on their cameras. But they were too slow to get to the Hall of Mirrors so Rachel and I were already taking mirror selfies by the time they caught up. If you want to see more photos of Versailles, you can either do to my Facebook page and see the photos I was tagged in or go online for the professional version. Or come visit me and you can go see it for yourself, but I'm not going again because it cost 25 Euros and we already talked about my stinginess.
Afternoon tea this past weekend. I declared myself the winner when I saw that this is what a croustillant chocolat is. Everyone wants this. I just ordered it because it said "chocolat" and that is always a good idea.
Biking to Paris for No Car day. Of course, No Car Day does not include taxis and giant tour busses unfortunately, but it's better than nothing. Though, if it had extended to the outer limits of Paris as well, one poor elderly lady would not have had her rearview mirror dinged by one wobbly American cyclist. I should have learned my lesson from Lance and doped up before the ride to help with that.
We biked there because we are cool. Daniel can even take photos while riding his bike, but we've already established that it would not be a good idea for me to try that. So this photo was take from a stationary position.
Probably the only photo of the Eiffel Tower that I will take while I'm in France. It's OK, though, because I'm pretty sure that you know what it looks like.
