Ode to Paris.

Paris is magical. It is not hyper-saturated like in Amelie. It appears in real color, feels like a dirty city, and it is so much better!  Even the plane ride was beautiful. Flying in the sun was on the ocean,  with little white boats leaving trails of foam in the blue, and clouds drifting above. The coast was golden and I was so excited. We drove into the city on a bus full of Scots, all straight off the plane. We made it to Angela's little flat, where she was kind enough to put us up. Then we took a night walk through the city starting in Le Marais, past the Notre Dame, eerily deserted at night, and across the seine with the perfect crescent moon reflected on its surface.
The next day we breakfasted on brioche at the apartment then headed to Montmartre, where we saw the Moulin Rouge and climbed the steps up to the Sacre Coeur. We saw the beautiful mosaics inside then it was back on the metro to meet some friends. Unexpected highlight was a dinner of hand pulled chinese noodles. So much delicious.

View of the city from the Sacre Coeur

The Sacre Couer

The Eiffel through the haze at dusk. 

Some pretty Paris rooftops. 

Sunday was icy cold and sunny. We went to the Bastille market, where we watched a man juggle with a fishbowl on his head, sampled mangoes and figs, ate roast chicken and potatoes out of a paper bag, and had crepes with jam.  We went to Pere Lachaise to see the grave of Oscar Wilde (sadly under construction at the time) but also got to see the graves of Georges Melies, Chopin, Edith Piaf, and Jim Morrison. Next we took the metro to Laduree to get some of their famed macarons. I got pistachio and chocolate. They were beautiful. We ate them in the sunshine along the Seine, then walked along the river further to the Ile Saint Louis to get some Berthillon ice cream. Cones in hand we perched ourselves on a wall overlooking the river and the Notre Dame. The sunset was lovely. This was followed by a dinner of fondue served by a crazed racist Frenchman.

At the market. 

Bread. 

The chicken man and his chicken stand. 

Leaves falling at the cemetery. 

Mausoleums and cobblestones. 

The seine with some cute barges in the corner. 

The fence with all the locks of love. 

My shoes. 

Angela, Kiley and I. Smiling despite the fact that we missed our macarons already. 

Pistachio macaron. Thanks to Eden for the photo, and for some of the others as well!

General prettiness along the river. 

The girls walking by some booksellers on the way to ice cream. 

The Seine. Also, on the left is the Notre Dame.

Fall leaves on the trees. 

Berthillon ice cream. 

So much happy. 

The metro. 

Muggin' in a passport photo booth. 

Monday was our last day. We purchased pastries and baguettes from the Boulangerie next to Angela's and breakfasted in the park. She headed off to school, and we headed to the Eiffel Tower baguettes under arm, like true Frenchwomen. It was a beautiful day, and the tower was huge, and wonderfully surreal. We picnicked and pranced, taking silly photos and spoiling everyone's sightseeing by being gleeful loud Americans. We left and met up with Angela, she showed us Sciences Po where we gawked at the pretty boys, and then we went back to her place, hastily consumed some fabulous Greek sandwiches, and got back on the metro headed to the airport.

Crazy stairs up to the apartment. 

Angela's place. 

The bakery. 

Coffee and chocolate eclairs. 

Oh look. It is me and the Eiffel tower. 

Me being French. 

Close up of the tower. 

Goodbye Paris!

Despite all the good eats, and unbelievable prettiness it was good to come back to Glasgow where the streets smell of curry and frying things, and people are friendly. Here is a bit of my Paris soundtrack. 

Manc-cents and a Few Days in Scouseland. A Musical Weekend.

Back in my loverly city o' Glasgow. Thought i'd finally get around to posting an abridged version of my weekend travels over the past month or so. First up Manchester and Liverpool. After an long bus ride through absurdly British countryside we landed in Manchester, where they speak with a Manc accent. The hostel was nice and full of friendly Aussies. We daytripped it to Lyme Park to see the site of Colin Firth and the wet blouse. He is gorgeous, it was gorgeous, I climbed a tall rock, and we were hunted by a pack of wild deer. All in all a very well rounded day. Next day we wandered the streets, jumping over puddles of Morrissey's tears. 

Then it was off to Liverpool,  and the hostel known as the Embassie. It was a real nice place run by an real nice guy named Kevin Sr. whose skiffle band beat John Lennon's in a neighborhood competition back in the day. He had loads of neat stories. We wandered by the docks, had a swell day-long Beatles tour and saw the Cavern Club, Penny Lane, Strawberry Fields, Mendips, and all the rest. Ate some scouse (a famous Liverpudlian stew after which the people are nicknamed, "scousers") then it was back to Glasgow town on the night bus. Here are the photos!

A lovely pond on the grounds of Lyme Park.

SHEEPS!

Recognize this?

Fall foliage.

Some well groomed shrubbery.

The manor house. Not real cozy looking.

The countryside and some neat tree branches.

I call this triumph.

A little parish church we found in the village of Disley. For real.

Manchester. No British city would be complete without a Ferris wheel. Go figure.

Manchester at dusk.

The Embassie in Liverpool.

Requisite red phone booth antics.

The massive Liverpool cathedral. 4th largest in the world.

Chinatown. We hit up a seriously good bakery here. mmmmm.

Albert dock and some lil' boaties.

My fab traveling companions Elise, Natalie and Eden puttin on their best Brit face. I like it.

Me puttin on my Brit face. Brick wall and all.

Ta Da!

Some nice red gate action.

The church and grounds where the Quarrymen played the day John and Paul met.

The telephone wires in Liverpool were of the hook. Also a lovely sunset.

The Cavern. Wish I could've seen the lads here way back when.

For comparison: George gettin down with his adorable self.

Oh ho ho. Recognize it? So cute. I die.

Me grinning like a fool in front of the Cavern. It smelled like vomit. I was still happy. 

And now for some Manchester tunes. Transmission by Joy Division. So far I don't know if Manchester has produced any happy people..... but that's okay because they've been brilliant anyway. 

One of my favorite Smiths songs. Lots of good 80's bouquet thrashing happening as well. Not sure what that is about. Morrissey looks good though. 

Everyone's favorite Liverpool lads. Some stuff from the early days that I really like. 

My favorite of all with George on vocals. Whatta sweetheart. 

Home and Away.

I have been roaming far and wide, but here are a few updates from my travels. I have been writing but that'll go up later. Still trying to catch my breath.

School  kids headed to the chip shop after school. Sauchiehall street Glasgow. 

The Glasgow Necropolis at dusk. 

English countryside and herd of deer near Disley. 

Manchester university buildings. 

Rare sunshine near the docks in Liverpool. 

Row houses in Liverpool. 

Scribble and Scratch.

So I have had lots of adventures. This is true. And I will of course put up more photos with endless enthusiastic commentary. But I thought I would post some artwork as that was the purpose of this endeavor to begin with. I have done this since getting here. I suppose it is not much for a month, but I was feeling rather accomplished.

I suppose inspiration was drawn from all over. Olivia's nifty use of handwritten script, tattoo shtuff, and the beauteous Dan Felton. Here is a photo of the real deal. 

It's not really the same but eh. I can deal. And now the award for the best song and dance involving a velvet crop top and corvette goes to the band Girls. This is currently my jam. Watch it. And if his swagger doesn't do it for you maybe the beautiful shots of mist shrouded SF will. 

O HOW I LOVE THAT CITY!

p.s. apologies for photo quality. The lighting in my bedroom is a wee bit janky. 

Glasgoing.

Still here. Went in for a full weekend of Scottish activities. Visited Loch Lomond on a beautiful and misty afternoon, partook of sticky toffee pudding, patronized King Tut's Wah Wah hut for a bit of rock n' roll, enjoyed high tea on a rainy afternoon, discovered the drying room in my flat, drank Irn Bru, listened to a Scottish folk jam session at one of the many neighborhood pubs and found the best chippy for chips and curry sauce. T'was swell. Here are some photos.

Walled garden at Loch Lomond

Defunct castle 

It was really this green. 

The lake. Deep water and dangerous monsters. 

It was a very rosy dusk. 

HIGH TEA!

AHHHHHH!

No caption necessary. 

Cute back alley. 

Neato panes of glass. 

All done. 

Oh, also I ate my first pasty. That was pretty cool.