In Paris!

Its funny, I've been to Paris at least 5 times... mostly through work but also the occasional visit for play... and yet I still do not know this city at all. I can't find my bearings in any which way. The pictures here include: a) Parc Floral where I went to watch the Jazz Festival today, b) cards from the dude on the Siene and c) some lovely dudes from the Gay Pride parade!

I am staying at a hostel reommended by Alex and Tim (who incidentally slept on bunkbeds here for their first wedding anniversary). Its a cool place, aptly called "Young and Happy", though I think I am of the median age in this place.

Once I figure out how to post pics while travelling without a computer, I will share the most hilarious movie clip ever! I somehow stumbled upon the Gay Pride parade in Paris this afternoon, and what do I see in front of me? The Lebanese/Arab float! F**k it was funny, and its all on film. I am just whetting your visual appetite for tomorrow (insha'allah) I'll try to find a way to download it... I'm still chuckling!

(P.S. I know the pics are wonky.. can't figure out how to do it properly!)

Interesting Facts about Mustard

I went to 'La Moutarderie' today in Beaune where I found out some interesting facts about mustard:

1. Dijon mustard is special because in the olden days they used verjus; the leftover juice from big fat juicy grapes instead of using alcohol. The more yellow the mustard the better quality of Dijon mustard.
2. Get this --- 98% of all mustard seeds used in Dijon mustard come from Canada, exported to Burgundy where they then make the Dijon mustard and then sell it back to us.
3. With the other 2% the town of Beaune is using indigenously grown seeds and will soon be selling it as Burgundy mustard (look out for namebrand of Fallot, sold at Loblaws soon).
4. When crushing mustard seeds, people cry because of the chemical reaction produced (like peeling onions).
5. Mustard is considered to be the very first condiment added to meat at a dinner table.
6. I still don't really like mustard much, but on the occasional piece of jellied ham with parsley, it can go down fairly well!

I'm Tipsy. Its noon.

The weather is a bit crap, and my feet are a wee sore, so I decided to play hookey from the hiking itinerary and am instead hanging out in a small town Nuits St. Georges where there are way too many places for degustation. I have visited already three proprietors and 'caves' for wine tasting, and its just gone 12pm. I am asking what is the difference between premier crus and grand crus, but I still can't quite figure it out. Something to do with the size of the vineyard and the amount of ripe grapes it produces. I have realized however that what makes premium Burgundy wines (read: expensive) is of course, the combination of sun and soil found in this region, with the limestone and the natural valleys where the vineyards are located. Alkaline soils are best, and the drainage ability from the rains is also important (i.e. humanmade systems or natural canals) in what makes a fine wine. Oh, I also heard that here they often practice 'lunar organic farming', which is a mixture of organic farming and the timing of lunar cycles for planting, weeding and picking. Even if it doesn't say organic on the label, more often than not the Burgundy wines are in fact grown pesticide-free. I'll read about it more, as I should if I will ever proceed with my newfound dream of becoming a viticulturalist. I wonder how much money they make in Ontario?

I'm now off to the Cassissium, an audiovisual tour of the history of blackcurrant liqueur. Pics and intellectual contributions tomorrow, insha'allah!

Sur la route du vin

I'm in Bourgogne (Burgundy for the anglophiles) in France. Me and the red bag are taking ourselves through vineyards in the renowned Cote d'or region. Basically I have a map, hotels are booked for me and on y va (yella for the arabphiles).

Today I walked about 10km, though likely more like 15 given the amount of times I got lost and had to backtrack. There was also a moment when I had to do some scrambling up old limestone stairway that was definitely not part of the route. It hit me when I was in the forest and almost sprained my ankle that you guys don't really know where I am... so the itinerary can be found at http://www.discoverfrance.com/. I'm on day 2 of the Burgundy Vineyard Walking Tour.

Its beautiful here, I am having daydreams of buying an 18th century home in the hills and becoming a viticulturalist. Though I don't quite know yet what such a job would entail.

More soon... am off to do some much deserved wine drinking in the town of Gervet Chambertin!

Sazzes, Lozzes and Zabbits

Tonight I went to see the Saz (an old friend from my Oxfam days) and her son Loz, who keep two bunny rabbits named Mars and Ruby in their Oxford garden.

Ruby has been very lonely since her former companion dug a hole in the garden and escaped through the fence. Saz took Ruby to some sort of farm humane society type place to find her a mate. Ruby poked, smelled and licked a few other rabbits but none were to her liking. Then she met Mars. He was white with funny dots. She ran around him a few times and she seemed very, very excited, so Saz took Mars home to be with Ruby. I suppose they occasionally eat the hay, grass and carrots laid out for them. But I have only seen them eat newspaper.

"No Stopping 'til Greenwich"

I was meeting Claire on Tuesday, a great friend who I know from Cairo and is in London this week, outside of Charings Cross rail station. The adventure for the day, as suggested by Alex, was for Claire and I to take a nice leisurely boatride down the Thames, with vodka and tonic in hand, to Greenwich from Westminster.

Hmmmphf.

The one cruise company we enquired with didn't actually go straight to Greenwich, so we decided instead to walk to Tower Bridge, approximately 3 miles or so, and then hop on a boat from there. I was feeling rather camera-happy and taking some advice from my Dad, and randomly shooting the people and places along the Southbank.







Just before the London Bridge my camera battery died.

Claire and I ventured on with the intention of catching an alcohol-abled boat at Tower Bridge. We couldn't find the dock. But we did find a not-so-quaint pub overlooking the Thames and sat down to have a shandy in really dirty glasses. Its all part of the London experience eh. We happened to notice a memorial beside an decrepit boat to a certain St. Mary Overie, herewith a poem in her honour:

St Mary Overie*
To Mary over the ferry
a single ticket taken,
to press
the features into the pale
beyond the body of this water.
To Slut Lane let
him be carried
a pilgrim by the boatman,
led by the spill of the vapour
trail
and the milky way’s stigmata.
To Mary over the ferry a single ticket
taken :
to Veronica her sky print veil,
to the water woman a
daughter.
*The parish church of St Saviour and St
Mary Overie (later Southwark Cathedral), located in an area traditionally best
known for its brothels (www.tworiverspress.com/tideway/stmaryoverie.html)

As it happened, our search for the dock took approximately five hours and an estimate of at least 14 km. It was fun though. I have very little sense of direction, but Claire is suppose to be the smart one. She is a Londoner and while she was born and bred in this fine country, tends to carry her A to Z. Of course on this day it was forgotten that the essential London item was floating in the bottom of her knapsack. No problem. We ended up just following the Thames path trail through the rather large borough of Southwark; through renovated housing complexes, city farms with goats, sheep, pigs and donkeys, old warehouses, and about 20 pubs to one convenience store. While sitting down having a wee break, we noticed a small monument to the self-proclaimed 8th wonder of the world: an underwater tunnel through the Thames, built by a certain Marc Brunel of Rotherhithe, which is now being used by the tube line. A intriguing story involving prostitutes, bankruptcy, espionage and sabotage. Probably.

The adventure was starting to wane by about 5:30pm. I wanted a glass of wine, but Claire wouldn't let me until we got to Greenwich. Somehow, somewhere, we noticed a small dock with a few commuter boats. Lo and behold one was making its way to Greenwich. Five minutes later we were there. The burned Cutty Sark, an old (the oldest?) sailing ship which had curiously been engrossed in flames just a month or so ago, and of course, the impressive sight of the Royal Observatory, Greenwich Mean Time, the 24hour clock and the East/West longitudanal divide.

Blog Suggestions Fulfilled:
Food & Drink: Glass of sherry and 99 Flake ice cream.
Celebrity Sighting: Future Chancellor of the Exchequer currently enrolled in upper 6 at Eton College.
Lesson Learned: Always carry the spare camera battery.
Current Thought: Long live the Queen.
Red Bag Acquisitions: One tube of Boots name brand once-daily application factor 15 suncream.

Unlocked: The Story of the Oxford Castle

It wasn't easy trying to find something touristy and different to do in a city that I consider to be my third home, or that Alex, a good friend from grad school and currently living in Oxford with hubby Tim and baby Maya, had not done before.

After a cuppa tea and a really gross scone with fake clotted cream, we decided to get to the Oxford Castle to learn about corporal punishment, inhumanity and maltreatment of prisoners in the days of yore.

We exposed ourselves to the "1000 years of history and the revealing episodes of violence, executions, great escapes, betrayal and romance" in the gaols (aka British jails).

What we learned:

- A woman who had been convicted of infanticide, Anne Green, survived her own hanging in the 18th century.

- Up to 25 gaolers were held in a cell about the size of your bathroom for weeks or months at a time.

- Debtors were the most common prisoners in the gaol.

- All executed prisoners would be cadavers for scientific research. It was every prisoners fear that they would be dissected alive.






And finally, that we were in the same space as Brad Pitt had once been. We felt his presence.

Red Bag Contents Upon Departure

The Red Bag, and it's contents, are my only possessions for the next 100 days.

Top 20 Items of the Red Bag Upon Departure from Toronto:
1. $25 Casio watch with alarm.
2. Black water-resistant hoodie.
3. Three pairs of walking socks.
4. Jeans that yes, I really really needed to bring.
5. Light brown lululemon Yoga pants which really are good for walking and look great.
6. 60 multi-vitamins.
7. Black combat pants which are quite impractical, but I love them.
8. New white tanktop.
9. Silk sleeping sheet.
10. SPF 30 face cream.
11. Two tubes of vanilla mint Colgate toothpaste for Claire.
12. Printed orange and brown strapless cotton dress.
13. Mascara, eyeliner and concealer.
14. First aid kit filled with Egyptian vitamins and antibiotics.
15. Two camera batteries, 3gb photo capacity.
16. Old nokia phone with charger and global sim card.
17. IPod with 3500 songs and charger.
18. Indian Visa application and 3 passport photos.
19. Nicotine patches.
20. 10 packs of Egyptian Marlboro smokes.