Welcome!

     For the next three months, I will be traveling through France, Spain, and Italy doing research for my dissertation on the Roman Republic. I like to keep a journal about my experiences when I travel, and decided to create a blog so that friends and family can follow me on my travels.  I hope you enjoy reading about my adventures!

October 4, 2013: The Perils of Peanut Butter

     I will say once again, that travel is exhausting...and a headache. My trip began rather inauspiciously with two pat downs at Sea-Tac. My gluten and dairy intolerance led me to bring almond butter so that I would have something to eat at an airport full of sandwich shops. Only, I forgot that almond butter is considered a liquid and had my 5 ounce jar in my carry on. I made the mistake of explaining my situation instead of just tossing the jar. Thus, I posed a security risk and required a pat down. Apparently I had some offensive odor on my clothing, because when the lady conducting the pat down tested her gloves, they triggered an alarm. They didn't tell me what had set off the alarm, it could have been anything from laundry detergent to bomb materials. I find it rather frustrating how many harmless chemicals set off the alarm. The result? A security escort to a private room (read, holding cell) for another pat down. Ultimately, they let me through and I left praying the rest of the trip would be harmless. While not a huge deal, I do have to say that being forced to eat British Airways' version of a gluten free breakfast, five slices of orange, while watching the woman next to me wolf down a ham-and-cheese stuffed croissant was terribly depressing. Despite several more calamities, I made it to my apartment and after 12 hours of near-comatose sleep I was ready to explore Paris!

Paris!

     Despite the unseasonable humidity (80% and 75 degrees), Paris was great fun. Since I only had a day, I decided to do a walking tour to get all the places that are outside done before I return in January. I walked from my apartment near the Place de la Republique down the Boulevard de Sebastopol to the Seine. From there I viewed the Hotel de Ville, remembering how many events from the French Revolution took place in the square in front of it. If I had to name a "favorite" event, it would probably be Robespierre getting shot in the jaw, because frankly the man deserved it! I crossed the Seine to the Île-de-la-Cité to see Notre Dame. It always triggers my imagination to look upon a building so old and to think of all the history it silently witnessed. I decided not to wait in line to go inside, but to save it for my return in January. I walked along the buildings of the Palais de Justice thinking of how Louis IX dispensed justice from the site in the thirteenth century, despite the fact that only his Sainte Chapelle survives. 

     Seeing the Conciergerie and knowing that so many people, inlcuding Marie Antoinette, were imprisoned inside until they were taken by cart across the Seine and along the Quai to the Place de la Revolution (former Place Louis XV, now Place de la Concorde) to meet Madame Guillotine was rather awe-inspiring. Following their path, I headed to the Louvre for a few hours. I worked my way through as much of the museum as I could in three hours, only managing about a third of the museum. After that, I headed through the Tuileries Gardens to the Place de la Concorde to catch the metro back home and meet my aunt and uncle for dinner.

David, The Intervention of the Sabine Women (1799)

     Now, I am sitting on the TGV headed to Avignon and watching a mist-covered France pass me by. I can see the kinship with England, even if no French or English want to admit it, in the rolling hills spotted with cows, sheep, goats, and sleepy villages with their looming church spires. Even the land seems old in comparison to the U.S., but I imagine that I am the only person who feels that way. I can't help but look at these little villages and wonder how they fared in history. Who was their feudal overlord? Did the host medieval markets? Did the plague visit them? Did their villagers attack the local nobles in the Revolution or sacrifice their food to Napoleon's Grand Armée? Did trenches criss-cross the land during the Great War? Did they lose villagers to German work or concentration camps? There are plenty of questions to occupy my imagination. Tonight I must figure out the order of my day trips so that I can maximize my time, but tomorrow I will explore Avignon itself. Onward to the next adventure!