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my wet hot american summer.

(nah, not actually. i just thought this was a more eye-catching title than "my semester abroad" because no one wants to hear that.)

my semester abroad (nice, france)*

​I spent 4 months living in the south of France. What did I do during that time?

Eat. A lot.

I started writing down in a journal all the foods that I've eaten whenever I've been out with their menu descriptions and then I just got lazy and stopped, which fucking sucks because the pictures alone can't capture everything.

I'd go to a new bakery every other week, passing people with baguettes nestled under their arms- bread culture was very real here. Excess (i.e. American gluttony and greed) was frowned upon, except in bread and dairy.

Before this, I was like, "man, fuck you, Michelin man, French food is overrated", and then the second month of abroad I bought that year's Michelin guide. Yeah, I drank the Kool-Aid, but I also drank the 2-euro wine from Lidl. 

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I was also all-too in love with the sights and people and food and freedom from obligations, and I needed it to feel as real as possible before it was over. I never wanted to leave. I met some of the most interesting, kindest, smartest, and most insightful people during my time there, and I'm grateful to still have some of them in my life.

What frightens me is the possibility of forgetting the little moments, and eventually the sum of my time in the Riviera. Daniel's rooftop, laughing with Ezster, sunsets, going on runs with the boys, the first taste of Belgian beer, Marcus' hugs, Linus' jokes, the taste of fresh truffle, Waka Bar, dinner parties with carbonara and Swedish meatballs, and the freedom to live how we can't live at home. Nissa la Bella was such a kind host, and I can't express my gratitude enough to the city's charm. 

*yeah i bet you don't wanna hear how "abroad changed me", but i'll tell you anyways.
nice 1

Linus, over Snapchat

"this baguette is harder than hugh hefner's prime"

the French Riviera 

A goddamn paradise. Spread my fucking ashes in the Mediterranean ocean. (I'm only like half joking.) 

And that food? Nothing short of spectacular. Hugs and kisses forever to the Côte d'Azur- especially Nice. 

impressions of the French Riviera:​

 

people let their dogs shit on sidewalks

every toilet has buttons for flushing

restaurants are mainly outdoors

people don't seem stressed or busy

buildings aren't too tall 

greed isn't as alluring as in America

no daily routine nor the desire for one 

condom dispensers(?) 

the sun shines so softly 

sunrise is worth waking up earlier for

smells like cigarettes everywhere 

I could sit at my balcony all day 

and, oh, 

how I missed Walmart.

Lyon

Lyon was the first French city outside of the Riviera that I'd travelled to- only a couple of hours away by train. 

I'd heard that Lyon was a gastronomic capital, and I wondered if the city would live up to that reputation. It definitely did. 

Like, take this- at Chez Paul in Lyon, the meal was so stacked: 

Entree was cocos-museau, pieds de veau, pommes de terre cervelas ou mache , betteraves, harenges, lentilles. Plat chaud was quelle de brochet that was so mf hot that you risked burning every little bump on your tongue, whatever they're called, but, man, so good. Fromage was blanc creme that you ate like pudding. Dessert was pruneaux au vin, compote de fruits, and creme caramel ou riz au lait.

the food felt very authentic. it was done family style & the people next to me were so nice. salty food but incredible. more like home-cooked meals. prix-fixe only. 

Lyon was actually my first-time hearing about Paul Bocuse and wanting to get into food journalism or media of some kind. it made me realize how vastly different all of France's food is, even though I'd only been in the Riviera before that. 

no, i didn't label anything because i don't remember all the dishes. i only had a journal entry and these iphone pictures to work with so you kinda have to guess what each thing is. 

Paris

oh captain, my captain, how i love paris!

 

no, but actually- you really either love or hate this city. no one is ever really like, "eh, it's fine", or, "eh, it was okay". no, no, no- to have been in paris means to have such fervor about it, one way or another. you either think the food is amazing (which i did) or gross, or that the parisians are nice or rude as hell, or that it's dirty or that the piss on the streets just adds charm. 

massive, massive city. 

don't worry, this isn't gonna be a massive ass-kissing section to paris. however, i will say that it was really cool being in a place that i'd only really learned about in french class. like, this is where they stormed the bastille? this is (probably) where countless heads got chopped off via guillotine? context really does enrichen experiences. 

i went twice when i was abroad, but i really gotta go again. that city's just too damn big to digest in like the span of a week, really. 

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