Tuesday, December 24, 1991

In the early afternoon of Christmas Eve we arrived in Rome. We gathered our bags at the train station and caught a cab outside. We may have been groggy from the overnight train ride, but that excursion in the cab got our blood pumping faster than a double expresso.

My sister, Nancy, remembers: “We took a taxi from the train station to our hotel. The taxi driver was mad and I thought we were going to get into an accident.” “They have no traffic rules there (or so it seemed). It was a pretty scary cab ride.” “We passed Circus Maximus but didn’t really get to see it.” For me the ride felt like a roller coaster where our driver was just trying to avoid the cars since the brakes where missing. I remember looking out the right side of the cab and seeing a long open space and thinking it must be the Circus Maximus. It seemed quite amazing that we could pass something so historic so closely.

At the hotel it was very much how you could imagine living in Rome. A rather small room with a window into a shared open space. As Nancy remembers: “The hotel room was nice but had those strange European outlets. We had a window you could open like French doors for a pseudo-balcony. Out the window were lines of laundry and a woman singing an Italian song. Dad washed his socks in the sink and put them to dry by the balcony (matched the lines of laundry). On the TV was some weird game show that looked hilarious but was all in Italian so none of us could understand it.” I remember they had an advertisement for “Foxy” toilet tissue where actors would run the tp over a microphone with their heads lifted and eyes closed like they were smelling some wonderful scent in the air. It was quite bizarre.

We quickly learned of one of the difficulties of being in Rome around Christmas. Not only do they have supper later in the day, but very few restaurants were open over the holidays. If I remember right, my father had planned for us to go to St. Peter’s in order to try and see midnight mass. We got there around 6pm in the evening and went over to the nearby shops. I think it was partly to get souvenirs and partly to grab something to eat for then and for later. Nancy remembers: “There was a trinket shop across the street from St. Peter’s that sold all sorts of religious stuff, some of it quite amusing.” “I thought we got some sort of potato bread (or something equally dry and tasteless) to tide us over for the long wait at St. Peter’s.”

We then joined the line for Midnight Mass. If memory serves, we had gotten there so early that we were toward the front of the line. My father remembers “that we took a train to St Peters and walked up to the Swiss Guard post and asked about tickets to Midnight Mass. The guard said that they were all gone but we could stand in line for Standing Room.” We stood in line for 5 hours and were let in an hour before the mass began. We scrambled in when it was our turn and found a spot one bay from the front on the left side with a view of the alter. As Nancy remembers that there was a “woman from California that spoke to the guards in Italian and prompted us to move our spot to one where we could not see the altar but then we saw the Pope up close when he visited the manger during the offertory.” We were standing up against some temporary guardrails where they said the people on the other side would be cleared out at some point so that the Pope could pass to place the Baby Jesus in the nativity scene. My father remembers: “When we moved to the other side of the horses with others coming in behind us and looking at us strangely as we could not see the altar thinking- ‘Why are they standing THERE?’”

It was tough because in order to see the alter, we had to stand on our tip toes and crane our necks around a pillar. Plus the mass is something close to a 2 hour affair (keep in mind we had already spent 5 hours waiting outside and another hour inside). But that all paid off at the end of the mass. As they had said, the crowd on the other side of the guardrail were pushed out of the way and we were left right next to an open passageway. The Pope came down the center aisle, turned right towards us, and passed just out of arms length. I remember being blinded by the flashes of the people on the other side of the passageway. And then on top of it he came back and passed right in front of us again. Though this time he stopped, signed autographs, and had his picture taken with everyone. (just kidding).

As you can expect we were amazed by having been able to see him that closely. We were elated. After the mass ended, the cathedral emptied rather quickly and we stayed for a bit to look around since we really hadn’t seen much more than what we could see from our position during the mass.

When we exited the church and started heading across the square and down the boulevard back toward Rome, you could sense the good feeling in the air and it was quite magical. Nancy remembers: “I remember leaving St.Peter’s after midnight mass and as we walked all the way back to our hotel a large group of young Mexican school children came up behind us singing songs in Spanish. That was pretty cool.” That night was easily the highlight of the trip.

Monday, December 23, 1991

After the big day in Paris, we spent the morning recovering and preparing for our trip to Italy that evening. We made our way into Paris and dropped our bags at Gare de Lyon. We didn’t do very much in comparison to the day before. We stayed near the Gare de Lyon and visited Place de la Bastille, Place Vosges, and the Marais.

But when we stopped for lunch at a local cafe, one of our classic incidents transpired. We were seated alongside a railing next to a staircase down to the basement. I can’t remember what we ate, though I think I may have tried a Croque Messieur. During our meal, I accidentally nudged my fork. In what seemed like an eternity, I watched as gravity pulled my cutlery into the abyss of the stairwell. As I cringed, my sister and father started chuckling as the fork proceeded to hit every stair on its way down to the basement. That’s one of our classic stories of the trip which they kid me about to this day.

That evening we returned to Gare de Lyon to embark on our trip and I was excited to share the fun of European train travel. It was an overnight trip that took us through the Alps during the night then along the west coast during the morning.

My father remembers: “…that great overnight train ride in the compartment by ourselves looking out at the moonlit snow covered mountains clickety, clackitying down the rails. That was one of my fondest memories of the trip.”

And my sister Nancy remembers: “I think it was an overnight train. As I remember waking up looking out at the snow. On the train itself we had our own cabin. It was a long ride and the only food we brought was a roll of salami. I remember playing cards and eating salami. Plus, because we were the only ones in the cabin we had room to spread out or lie down if we wanted. I also remember looking frantically out the window when we got to the town of Pisa to see if I could spot the tower (alas, no). Saw vineyards out the window and weird cemeteries.

It was a fantastic ride. As my father mentioned, the view of the moonlight illuminating the snow covered Alps was amazing. Then the next morning, the rocky shores of the Mediterranean were incredibly picturesque. I also remember as we passed through Pisa, looking out over the city hoping to catch a glimpse of the leaning tower. Later that morning we arrived in our first destination, Rome.

Sunday December 22, 1991

The first day in Paris was a big one. We covered probably as much ground as you could cover on your first day in Paris. We started out taking the RER C line in from Versailles to the Musee d’Orsay. My father had heard a lot about it and was interested in going there. When we got there the line was around the block, so we decided to try coming back early another time and go see other sites that day.

I had really enjoyed the whirlwind tour that I had taken on my first day (Louvre, Tuileries, Champs Elysee, Arc du Triomphe, and Eiffel Tower), so I thought it would be a great way for them to see it for their first time also. So from the Musee D’Orsay, we crossed the Seine and started in the Tuileries. We took it the atmosphere and proceeded to take goofy pictures of ourselves with the statues. My sister, Nancy, remembers: “The Tuileries gardens (along with those of Versailles) had statues covered with burlap sacks. Unusual as this seemed to us, it was funny because the occasional statue had a random arm sticking out of it because, I guess, it would take too much burlap to cover it.” “The trees were also quite unusual in France. It’s like they took a perfectly normal tree, cut all the branches off at a certain length and then new, thinner branches sprouted as offshoots. It’s really an odd way to grow a tree.”

We proceeded along the axis between the Louvre and the Arc du Triomphe and visited the Place de la Concorde. Then sauntered along the Champs Elysee to the Arc du Triomphe. At the Arc, we climbed to the top and saw one of the most interesting vantage points in Paris. It’s a spectacular panorama because it is a round point with street radiating out in all directions. Since almost all of Paris is only seven stories tall and the Arc is taller, you have unobstructed views all around. Plus there are great views of the Eiffel Tower, back down the Champs Elysee, and out toward La Defense. Up top, we took one of the best photos of my father and me.

After the Arc it was still not that late, so we backtracked and took the Metro down the axis and visited the Louvre. Although I had been living there for four months, it was another attraction which I had not visited yet. And as with the inside of the Chateau de Versailles, it turned out to be my only visit.

We saw the major sites. Primarily the Denon wing with the Mona Lisa, Winged Victory, Venus di Milo, and the large Italian paintings. I remember the Mona Lisa being much much smaller that I had expected it to be. I would actually say that I found it to be a bit of a let-down. But then again, it was housed in an absolutely huge room which featured enormous paintings on the other walls.

The Denon wing with it’s large Italian paintings was quite impressive. A long large well lit room with the paintings covering the walls to either side. The grandeur of that space may have also contributed to the impression of the Mona Lisa. Nancy remembers: “The two posters that I purchased at the Louvre – ones I still have – are a large one of the Mona Lisa and a small one of the coronation of Napoleon. I thought they were appropriate for a visit to Paris.”

After the Louvre it was the early evening, but would start to get dark soon. We thought we would try to get to the Eiffel Tower in order to see the city as it changed from dusk to dark. As we were crossing the Pont des Arts, a fashion photographer was taking photos of a model posing along the railing. It was cool to see since we were in a fashion capital.

It turns out we didn’t make it to the Eiffel Tower before dusk, but we did go up and saw the lights of the city at night. I’m fairly sure it was my first time up the tower, but unlike the Versailles Chateau and the Louvre, it would be my first visit of many.

At the end of this long day, we returned to Versailles to rest up so that we could prepare for our trip to Italy the next day.

Saturday, December 21, 1991

Our plans were to take the overnight train to Rome on the 23rd, so we had a couple days before leaving. Also, when we returned from Italy, we would be staying in Paris, not Versailles. I had really enjoyed our class trip to Chartres and thought that my father and sister would enjoy it also. So we made a day trip to Chartres since it’s a shorter trip from Versailles and we wouldn’t waste any time in Paris to go elsewhere. So we made French toast for breakfast and caught the train to Chartres.

There are essentially three things of interest in the town. The cathedral, the lectures by Malcolm Miller, and the old winding streets of the town. We managed to see all of them and get in a bit of shopping. As my sister writes: “Malcolm Miller was amazing that he could remember and spout all those details and symbolic references. Glad that he was speaking English too. They were doing an archeological dig outside in front.

We ate at some quaint place on one of those narrow cavernous streets and the restaurant was on the 2nd floor. It was my first taste of flan and I remember that I didn’t like it. Dad bought me a coat there and I could put away the Bulls jacket that I had been wearing and do better not to stand out like a dumb American tourist.”

It was my second time seeing the lecture by Malcolm Miller and it was as good as the first time. I bought a sweater and we all bought scarves while we were shopping. We picked up a roasted chicken on the way home and made stroganoff with it. The next day I would take them on what would become my whirlwind tour of Paris.

Friday, December 20, 1991

The next day we had a nice little breakfast of bagettes and various spreads and prepared ourselves for the day. We decided that we would see the inside of the chateau and try to cover the gardens. I was kinda itchin to show them around Paris, but we got a bit of a late start. I had actually not visited the chateau even though I passed through it everyday. I guess it was one of those things you do when people come to visit. I also wasn’t very interested in seeing it before that because I thought it was too opulent. That said, I found it quite interesting once we had seen it. It was interesting to see, but not necessarily something I’d want for myself or a style that I would seek out. Though I did really like the Hall of Mirrors and the Battle Gallery. Maybe because they were tall long well lit spaces. Garishness seemed more appropriate for spaces that size. As my sister, Nancy, said: “Pretty cool but definitely not my taste in decoration. The place was huge. Why did they need all those rooms? Seemed like a waste and a lot to clean.”

After the chateau we made our way through the gardens. Again, I was so excited for them to be there and see it, that I was hoping to give them a complete tour. But our time was running short and jetlag was still wearing on them. As always we found time to goof around in the gardens.

We saw major points including the Latona Fountain and the Apollo basin. Then made our way over toward the hamlet. My sister Nancy remembers: the Fountain of Latona with the frogs circling the tiers” and “the row of statues leading to the Apollo basin.”

Afterward, we went home and had stew and bratwurst with my roommate, Clovis. I also tried to get tickets to see Romeo & Juliet, but they were closed when I got there.

Thursday, December 19, 1991

I got my first chance to show what life was like for me in Europe when my father and sister came to visit. Like me, they had never been to Europe. So I would be able to introduce them to it along with all of my surroundings. They arrived in the morning on an overnight flight from Chicago and were quite worn out the first day. They had the adrenaline of seeing a new environment, but they still were a bit out of it. At the time I was a bit disappointed that we didn’t see more than they could muster. I was so excited to see them there, that I could have covered all of Paris and Versailles in a day. But then again it would have been hard to take any of it in at that pace.

One funny incident on the ride into the city from the airport was that my sister Nancy was a bit out of it and was leaning against the window of the train. Suddenly a train passed inches from the window going in the opposite direction. She jumped and grunted wide-eyed completely startled.

Though looking back we did see quite a few things that first day. We visited the school including the classrooms, the café, and the studios. We saw the Notre Dame church and browsed through the marché to see the variety of food offered. We also saw the outside of the chateau and the parterre section of the gardens directly adjacent to the chateau. We even started goofing around like we always do together. My father remembers that we kept trying to discreetly join in photos (with a big smile) that the Japanese tourists were taking of each other in front of things. Actually I think I always turn and smile now whenever someone it taking pictures of their friends or family.

My sister, Nancy, remembers: “On our first day we arrived in Paris in the early morning and took the train (I thought the fact that you buy a ticket to get in the station was cool) to Versailles. After seeing your apartment we went out exploring the neighborhood. I remember that you stopped in the bank and I was surprised at how good your French was. We then stopped at a little cart or bakery that served on the street and bought a croissant. I thought it was really neat to be eating a croissant in France. I then remember it being around 4pm and I was ready to pass out because we’d pulled an all-nighter because of the flight. We probably crashed early that night.”

They also got to meet both of my roommates: Robin, a fellow student from Illinois who was in the accelerated graduate program; and Clovis, a French secondary school student. One of the odd things about Clovis was that he had a nervous clap. As Nancy explains: “He had this nervous habit of clapping – but not regular clapping – just a single clap. And it would be random. Like, he’d go take a shower and you’d hear a clap. He’d go into his room and you’d hear him clap. I never saw him do it (though you probably did) and it only added to the randomness. I also remember that Dad asked him about French toast and French fries and Clovis had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.”

As far as encountering a new culture and built environment she remembers: “I thought it was odd that the door knobs were in the center of the door instead of by the latch. I found a key on the street in Paris and it was like a cylinder with short protrusions. It was so peculiar and different from our flat keys.” “It was fascinating to see that the streets were not paved in asphalt but were actual bricks. In Rome they had the same thing but the bricks were laid out in a cool fan pattern.” My father remembers: “I recall that walk from the train the first day. It seemed very damp and cold. Not cold by Chicago standards yet kind of eerie cold, maybe the different feelings, architecture and culture of the streets made it feel strange. Versailles grounds also seemed in hibernation with only a few tourists roaming around.

From my journal, we had spaghetti with turkey and cheese and tried to map out the vacation. It’s also noted that we watched Gone with the Wind, which was my sister’s favorite movie, on the small TV in an adjacent sitting room that our landlord let us use once in a while.

December 18th, 1991

Although I was really enjoying my time abroad, soaking it all in, there was something missing. It was really frustrating not to be able to share it with people close to me. While it’s true that even if people came to visit, it would not be the same as experiencing the day-to-day life together, but at least I could share tidbits and show them a good portion of what life is like. But now looking back sixteen years later, those times when family and friends visited from home are the only times I can reminise about what we experienced. The other times are more personal because I’ve either lost contact with the people I experienced it with or it was during the time I was travelling alone.

And it has been fun remembering that time with my father and sister. As opposed to just myself and my journal to remember what transpired, there are three of us. During the time they came I kept a separate journal in order to be able to write more. The problem is that I can’t find it now. Another aid has been my collection of slides and negatives. It has helped immensely toward piecing together where and when.

So unlike the other times, I will not be the only source of info for the posts about these two weeks. My sister has an amazing memory and has been filling in many of the gaps that have appeared. So their commentary will be included in the posts.

Another thing is that things get silly when my father, my sister and I get together. And opposed to holding back some of the more personal goofy tidbits, I’ll be including them for posterity and before we all forget them. Plus their contributions have a bit more emotion than my dry entries usually do.

So I look forward to posting these. We had a great time together. One that we’ll never forget, though it might still be good to get it written down.

I can’t say I ever really got homesick in the traditional sense. A yearning to go back. It was not that I did not miss those at home, but rather that I was really enjoying all the new experiences. But I did have a couple things similar to homesickness.

First there was a day where I had enough of the Versaillese. They are not the most welcoming people in the world and something really got me down about it. So I rebelled against it and dressed up in the most un-bourgeouis garb I had. Black leather jacket, bandana on my head, Chuck Taylors, and earrings. Nothing too extreme. Then loaded my walkman and blasted industrial music during a walk through the city.

The other thing was ongoing. I had a yearning to share all of this with people close to me. And for them to love and enjoy it as much as I did. To share it on a level that we could make inside jokes. That kind of closeness. Unfortunately I wasn’t close to anyone who came along on the program and I never really did connect with anyone of the level of friends and family back home. With the exception of my roommate Robin, but we never travelled together and we came from fairly different backgrounds. But that ability to share the experience was really missing. It was really something I yearned for.

I guess that is why I am so excited to finally recount much of that time here. Family and friends can read it as their time and interest dictates. Plus there are many others out there that may find this interesting also. I’ve already had quite a bit of feedback by people I have met and others that I haven’t.

Saturday, December 7th, 1991

One Saturday morning we were given a tour of the Pantheon in the Latin Quarter of Paris. The tour was given in French by one of the professors in the French school. My level of French was not much more advanced that an astute tourist so I didn’t catch much of what he said. Though, one of our professors gave brief summaries as we went along. This article in Wikipedia contains about as much as I remember from the tour.

The tour started on the main floor. We were only allowed to poke our head out to peek into the main space because pieces had recently fallen from the ceiling. We then climbed up to the clerestory where the above photo was taken. We continued with a tour around this level viewing some of the remaining mechanical devises used to construct the building and the butresses for the main arches.

From there we made our way up through the dome to the crowning cupola. We entered the dome through the doorway you see in the photo above. The climb up the dome was similar to the climb up St. Peters in Rome. You are sandwiched between an inner dome and an outer dome, climbing up at an angle.

The view from the top was one of the best in Paris. It was in close proximity to many landmarks and they were mostly to the north. So the sun was behind us instead of in front of you like at Montmartre. It was a very bright morning, but incredibly smoggy. You can barely see La Defense in the distance in the photo above.

It a great to see the building along with some of the behind-the-scenes elements. We had another tour in the spring of another Parisian landmark.

Friday, November 15th, 1991

Our school had a class day trip to Chartre which is not too far from Versailles. The day basically consisted of a tour of the cathedral and some time to wander around the city. We didn’t do much with our free time, but just before we were to leave we found this quaint little section of town behind the cathedral. There is a river with some nice stone buildings as you can see in the photo below.

The rest of the city was very nice, though similar to many other French cities of the same size.

But it was the tour of the cathedral that made the trip so memorable. Our guide was Malcolm Miller. He is a scholar who has been “reading” the cathedral statues and stained glass windows since 1958. He compares the cathedral to a library with each stained glass window and statue arrangement being a book. During the tour, he walked us around and read some of the stained glass windows along with an assembly of statues. Some are graphic representations of stories from the bible complete with symbolic iconography. Others like the rose window also spell out numerous symbolisms and etymologies. If you were raised Christian or have a fair knowledge of it, the tour probably has your head reeling at the end. It is astounding how the creators of the elements of the building infused it with such a rich network of imagery and meaning. The tour was one of the highlights of my stay in Europe and a tour or lecture by Mr. Miller is highly recommended. Especially if you have time during a stay in Paris for a day trip to Chartres.