Nancy is not a person. Well, that's not true; Nancy is a person. In fact, Nancy is many people, and they all happen to share the same name. I meant simply that the title of this entry refers not to a person (though, as I want to reemphasize, it could, theoretically) named Nancy. It refers to a small town east of Paris. My parents and I went there today on a day trip and it was absolutely charming. I think you'll find the enclosed photos will do the descriptions justice a lot better than I could.
I can still narrate, though, right? Yeah. Of course. I'm still totally good at narrating.
We took the TGV* from Paris (Gare de l'Est) to Nancy, which took about an hour and a half. Very smooth ride on a bright, clean, fast, well-managed train that's actually not too expensive, all things considered. I slept for much of the ride, but the return was great.
Once in Nancy, we started with the Musée des Beaux Arts**, which featured a nice, well-rounded collection. This is a cool picture I took of the building, which was often as cool as the art:
There were paintings from across the centuries, sculptures, and a good deal of Art Nouveau. This movement, from the 1920s and 30s, started in Nancy (it's the reason Mom wanted to go there) and is the proud influence of Paris's famous metro signs (an example of which is here). This museum also featured a fair share of my favorite kind of art, which I have lovingly, laughingly, and above all accurately nicknamed "The Shit That Makes No Sense."
After the museum, we went out to admire the plaza on which this museum, an opera house, the town hall, and many fabulous wrought-iron gates with gold leaf patterns (like the one below) are located.
We then walked around in search of lunch, browsing a few streets with restaurants (and a small market) before finally settling on a crepe place. It was cheap, warm, and good. Not worth a recommendation, but it hit the spot.
After lunch, we went to a history museum and an attached chapel, which had some nice stained glass. This is about when my camera died, so the photo tour stops here, unfortunately. We also popped into a huge cathedral in another part of town, which Pope John Paul II apparently visited at some point. They had a plaque about it. It was in French. I read it.
We saw another plaza, walked through a very nice city park, and then caught the TGV back to Paris. I definitely plan on taking it again when I'm not sleeping the whole time.
Mom, Dad, and I then found dinner at Brasserie Balzar on Rue des Écoles near the 'Cluny-La Sorbonne' metro stop. A little pricier than most of the places I've been recommending, but I had an incredible steak in a delectable... Bernaise? sauce as well as an incredible dessert of molten chocolate cake topped in vanilla ice cream and surrounded by Crème Anglaise. Dad's profiteroles were also to die for.
Probably to die from as well, considering I ate most of both of these French desserts.
In honor of the U.S. Legislative Branch's unprecedented historical event-- that is, actually doing something-- we'll be reporting next time from the world of socialized medicine: find out what it will mean for YOU.***
And here's a picture of Jesus: The Manga.
-Andy
------------------------------------------
Are you ready for some FOOTNOTES?!
* French for "Amtrak." ...okay, no, not really. It stands for "train à grand vitesse," but I still find the translation hilarious and in a very emotionally satisfying way. Are you ready? You sure? Okay... "train à grand vitesse" is French for "Really Fast Train."
** Rougher than my average translation, but this is tantamount to "Museum of Fine Arts"
*** Also, are you being defrauded by your milkman!? Find out how to stop those delivery people from milking a costly delivery fee. Tonight at 10, only on Fox news.
No comments:
Post a Comment