The City of Love | Dutch Diaries Week Thirteen
In the past twelve weeks, I’ve been to eight countries and seventeen cities (by most counts). I’ve seen London, Rome, and Berlin, but there’s one city that I’ve been told is more of a must-see than anywhere else: Paris.
The Weekend | Het Weekend
On Friday evening, I, and about one hundred other Americans from my study abroad program set off for Paris, embarking on the second of two trips coordinated by and included in our program. After a few hours on a crowded coach bus, we pulled off the freeway to be welcomed by nothing other than the sparkling lights of the Eiffel Tower, and when I say there were squeals of excitement from every row of this bus, I’m not exaggerating (that much).
After settling into our hotel, just a few minutes walk from that same curvy lady who welcomed us to the city (I’m still talking about the Eiffel Tower; that’s going to be an ongoing theme) we set out galavanting, quickly finding that our hoard of American college students wouldn’t necessarily be welcomed with enthusiasm at any of the bars we tried. I’d like to blame that on the whole cold Parisian stereotype, but as a former restaurant employee, I think their responses were warranted. When a group of about twelve twenty-somethings come barreling through your doors and can’t so much as count in your language, you know you’re not in for the easiest of nights. Suffice it to say that our night ended early and fruitless, something that was probably for the best.
We had an early morning awaiting us the next day, complete with a city tour that would bring us past all the important sites and introduce us to the adorable stuffed animal character that would become an inside joke in my friend group.
All of this was even before our museum visit to the Louvre, where we would wait in that iconic line to see the most famous painting in the world... which, in person, managed to be both much smaller than I had expected while simultaneously commanding the largest presence over the room. Of course, my hurried iPhone snapshot could never do it justice, but here she is nonetheless: a photo of the Monalisa.
Following the Louvre, we were determined to pay a visit to our favorite curvy lady of the city skyline, strategically aiming to arrive just before sunset, so we could see her both in daylight and sparkling against the night sky. Of course, we stopped for wine first because, well, when in France, so in reality we arrived after most of the light had already gone.
However, we still found ourselves with plenty of time to enjoy the evening in the presence of one of the world’s wonders before our group dinner reservations, arranged for us at a boujee traditional French restaurant just an eight minute walk from the Eiffel Tower.
While studying abroad in Maastricht may not be the most glamorous of destinations, one thing thing is for certain— our program certainly treats us well.
On Sunday, we found ourselves with a free day for “sightseeing” in the city. This day decidedly took us to the quaint Montmartre neighborhood, just behind the large central church on top of the hill. Complete with an artist’s square and multiple restaurants offering traditional, and a bit stereotypical, French cuisine. Naturally, we settled right in for some French onion soup and escargot before walking through the neighborhood in search of the nearby Moulin Rouge.
After completing our Sunday with a macaron, we hopped back on that crowded coach bus, headed back to Maastricht where the regular week awaited.
The Week | Het Week
What my weekend lacked in downtime, my week thoroughly made up for. Come Monday morning, the excitement of travel was swapped with the chores and responsibilities of my “real life” back at school. Finding this period’s classes a bit more challenging than those of the previous period, I took full advantage of my free Monday to do what the Berkeley student in me knows best: study… or at least pretend to. Still, beyond the pages of studies in social neuroscience and articles analyzing pieces of Dutch art, I found time to rest, reflect, and regroup for the week of classes I would have ahead.
Tuesday this week consisted of just that— class. If it weren’t for my daily cappuccino before class in the campus cafe, a detour taken on my bike ride commute, and a couple quick errands in town, I probably would have only seen the inside of my dorm room and the inside of a couple classrooms, completely missing out on my magical little town all dressed up for Christmas.
Seriously, I can’t get enough of these lights; the lights almost make up for the early sunset and cold, grey days of late autumn, which I’ve been informed have been both colder and more grey than usual this year.
Wednesday, like many days this fall, was characterized by seemingly nonstop pouring rain, and I took the opportunity to further catch up on homework and job applications (it turns out that studying abroad just puts more physical distance between me and my future career without making that whole adulting thing actually more distant… Huge buzzkill).
Thursday, however, was much more exciting, as I embarked on my second of what I was beginning to understand would be many excursions through my Dutch Art History course. While I was expecting entirely the opposite, Dutch Art History was surprisingly and quickly becoming one of my favorite courses from throughout my entire college career, in no small part because of these little field trips. Our local outing on Thursday brought us the the Bonnefantenmuseum to analyze, learn about, and appreciate Dutch art in person, and while I learned the key differences between early Netherlandish and Northern European renaissance art, my biggest takeaway was that art museums happened to be a lot more fun when you actually know a little something about art.
While I was consumed by the works of old Dutch painters for that two hour lecture, as soon as I walked out of the museum, my mind was already away on the weekend adventure I would be leaving for early the next morning (or extremely late that night, depending on your view of those pre-sunlight hours).
