A couple of years ago "surface mail" shipping, also known as "the slow boat to China," went by the wayside. As a result, one must send all overseas packages by airmail. This can be very expensive. Sometimes, the cost of postage can meet or exceed the price of the gift itself. As an example, I bought my French nieces and nephews a Special-Edition US Monopoly game. It was something like $35 or so. To ship it, with its odd-sized package, was going to be over $200!
There is an easy solution, though. You can buy items for people in Europe on Amazon's European websites. These often have the same "super saver" free shipping if you are buying over a certain amount. I'm listing all of Amazon's European sites - these are in the native languages so if you're not comfortable navigating purchases, just buy from the United Kingdom site, which still offers free shipping to Continental Europe.
United Kingdom - www.amazon.co.uk
France - www.amazon.fr
Germany - www.amazon.de
Showing posts with label Europe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Europe. Show all posts
Monday, July 5, 2010
Friday, August 24, 2007
It is like riding a bike?
They day after we arrived in Ile d'Yeu, Pascale and I rode bikes from Jacqueline & Pierre's house to Port Joinville. During the summer, most people ride bikes on the island because driving is so infuriating difficult with all of the tourists during July and August.
After we ran our errands and did some shopping, we left. As I started to pedal, my bike was a little wobbly. When I veered to the left a little bit, a car whizzed past me with only a couple inches to spare. (See post titled, "Driving: like shooting a bullet through a tunnel".) I was startled and veered to the right. Unfortunately, I couldn't get my foot down off the pedal fast enough and I fell. I smashed my knees, left elbow and left lateral wrist.
I ended up with bruises on my knees, a HUGE bruise with a radius of about 4-5 inches around my left elbow that lasted a long time, and a weird swelling on my wrist. The picture of my bruised elbow is too ugly to post, but I have posted the picture of the weird swelling. (It is the odd bump on my arm on the right side of the picture.)
When it happened, I thought that I'd take a while to get back on a bike with French drivers. However, the next day I wanted to go into town. I had a choice of riding a bike or taking the local bus. I decided that I'd go ahead and get back on the bike. I figured that if I fell again, I'd take care to fall on the other arm.
Anyway, I'm mended now.
Les petites bêtes a/k/a unusual food
One thing about travel that is both fascinating and challenging are the foods. When my parents traveled to China for my dad's work at Boeing, they would say the food was fabulous - so long as you didn't ask what was in it!
I took a few photos of some foods you all might find interesting.
These are tiny little, lightly-pickled octopi. I've eaten octopus before in sushi, etc., so I wasn't squeamish about trying these. The most disconcerting thing about them are that the heads are attached.
Here is a picture of Pierre eating what he calls, "les petites bêtes" (little beasts).
These are something you won't find in the U.S. They are "boudin noir" (black sausage). It is blood sausage.(fn.1) Black pudding or blood pudding is a sausage made by cooking blood with a filler until it is thick enough to congeal when cooled.
I didn't try this - it was something Jacqueline picked up special for Pierre and wasn't a dish that all the family ate. I believe the reason it cannot be sold in the U.S. is because blood and spinal/brain products cannot be sold out of fear of mad-cow disease, etc. I'm not positive about that though.
This next picture is someting much more palatable. It is "marron glace," which is an ice cream made from chestnuts. It is very good!
We'll end this post with something cute: hearts and flowers shaped sugar "cubes." I can't wait until these hit the U.S. market.
fn. 1: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_pudding
I took a few photos of some foods you all might find interesting.
These are tiny little, lightly-pickled octopi. I've eaten octopus before in sushi, etc., so I wasn't squeamish about trying these. The most disconcerting thing about them are that the heads are attached.
Here is a picture of Pierre eating what he calls, "les petites bêtes" (little beasts).
These are something you won't find in the U.S. They are "boudin noir" (black sausage). It is blood sausage.(fn.1) Black pudding or blood pudding is a sausage made by cooking blood with a filler until it is thick enough to congeal when cooled.
I didn't try this - it was something Jacqueline picked up special for Pierre and wasn't a dish that all the family ate. I believe the reason it cannot be sold in the U.S. is because blood and spinal/brain products cannot be sold out of fear of mad-cow disease, etc. I'm not positive about that though.
This next picture is someting much more palatable. It is "marron glace," which is an ice cream made from chestnuts. It is very good!
We'll end this post with something cute: hearts and flowers shaped sugar "cubes." I can't wait until these hit the U.S. market.
fn. 1: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_pudding
The Black Hole of Electronics
The day after I arrived, Jacqueline & Pierre's grandson, Mathieu, went to use the Internet to send a message to a friend and found that it wasn't working. They have DSL, but a message kept coming back saying that "il n'y a pas de tonalite" (no dial tone.)
I found a wireless signal, but when I asked Jacqueline & Pierre if they had wireless Internet they said no. I asked Jacqueline if we could ask the neighbors if they would be willing to let me have the key code (Mot de passe) and use it for the two weeks I was there. We went to each neighbor to the left and the right of the house, but they didn't have Internet access. I told Jacqueline that it was very strange because wireless signals don't travel that far.
Finally, with Mathieu, we discovered that the wireless signal was coming from Jacqueline & Pierre's "Livebox." Unfortuntely, the Livebox wasn't connecting to the internet. They called their internet service and somehow decided that the Livebox was defective. Unfortunately, because they live on an island, there are no service representatives that come out that far. Finally, after nearly a week, the company sent over a new Livebox via helicopter. Once it arrived, Pierre spent two days trying to get it to work, but it still had the same error message. Finally, they hired the man who owns an Internet cafe in town to come take a look.
As an aside, during this same timeframe, the phones were acting up, with first the phone in the office going out and then the phone in the front hall. Both eventually came back on, but it was very odd. Additionally, the digital camera printer that came with Pierre's Kodak Easyshare camera also went on the fritz.
When the man from the Internet cafe came out, he found that a cable had been placed in the wrong port. Apparently the red cable didn't go into the port surrounded by red (go figure). Once he got everything set back up, I was able to hook up my computer via the wireless signal after getting the key code off the bottom of the Livebox. I was so happy, I thought I was going to pass out.
Unfortunately, my happiness was short-lived. The next day, the AC adapter on my computer broke and I couldn't use it because I had to guard what little battery I had left.
Those Gremlins were somethin' fierce.
I found a wireless signal, but when I asked Jacqueline & Pierre if they had wireless Internet they said no. I asked Jacqueline if we could ask the neighbors if they would be willing to let me have the key code (Mot de passe) and use it for the two weeks I was there. We went to each neighbor to the left and the right of the house, but they didn't have Internet access. I told Jacqueline that it was very strange because wireless signals don't travel that far.
Finally, with Mathieu, we discovered that the wireless signal was coming from Jacqueline & Pierre's "Livebox." Unfortuntely, the Livebox wasn't connecting to the internet. They called their internet service and somehow decided that the Livebox was defective. Unfortunately, because they live on an island, there are no service representatives that come out that far. Finally, after nearly a week, the company sent over a new Livebox via helicopter. Once it arrived, Pierre spent two days trying to get it to work, but it still had the same error message. Finally, they hired the man who owns an Internet cafe in town to come take a look.
As an aside, during this same timeframe, the phones were acting up, with first the phone in the office going out and then the phone in the front hall. Both eventually came back on, but it was very odd. Additionally, the digital camera printer that came with Pierre's Kodak Easyshare camera also went on the fritz.
When the man from the Internet cafe came out, he found that a cable had been placed in the wrong port. Apparently the red cable didn't go into the port surrounded by red (go figure). Once he got everything set back up, I was able to hook up my computer via the wireless signal after getting the key code off the bottom of the Livebox. I was so happy, I thought I was going to pass out.
Unfortunately, my happiness was short-lived. The next day, the AC adapter on my computer broke and I couldn't use it because I had to guard what little battery I had left.
Those Gremlins were somethin' fierce.
Chez Pascale
Pascale met the Thalys train, which arrived at 21:08 at the Gare du Nord. She looks so much like Jacqueline that we had no trouble finding each other. The plan was for us to spend Saturday and Sunday nights at Pascale's house at Crouy-sur-Ourcq before traveling together to Ile d'Yeu on Monday, August 6th. 
Crouy-sur-Ourq is northwest of Paris, near the town of Meaux, where Brie is made (fn. 1).Pascale lives in a beautiful old house called "Villa Sainte Helene." She has decorated it beautifully. It was so wonderful and relaxing to spend two days in at Pascale's home after my final exams. She took really good care of me.
After going through the welcoming front door into the entry, the dining room is on the right.
The sitting room is on the left off the entry.
I slept in this beautiful bedroom. When I opened my shutters the first morning, these cows were outside my window. A nice change from drunken students.
Along with being a gifted decorator, Pascale also mattes and frames pictures and photographs herself. Here is a selection of her work.
An amusing aside:
Pascale loves to drive and has a cute, new snazzy car - a VW bug. She drives like most Europeans (fast). While we were driving to her house from the train station, her husband, Bernard called us on the cell phone. He told me to have Pascale pay attention to her speed because sometimes she goes too fast. When I told her what Bernard said, she got indignant and said she wasn't going fast. I took photographs of the road and her speedometer. 128 kilometers per hour is 79.5 mph. On a country, two lane road. Now you know why I took the photograph - it was memorable.
Fn. 1: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brie_(cheese)
Traveling from Amsterdam to Paris
I learned my lesson upon arrival in Amsterdam when I drug my luggage from the train station to my first apartment. (See post titled, "Nobody says, "Next time, I'm going to pack heavier!"" at http://roxanne-rr.blogspot.com/2007/07/nobody-says-next-time-im-going-to-pack.html) I decided then and there that I would spend 10E to have a taxi pick me up at my apartment door and drive me to the train station when I left the city.
I got up the morning of August 4th, got ready to go to school and take my last set of final exams, and finished my last minute packing. My exams were at 10:35 a.m. until 12:10 and again from 1:05 to 2:40. My train was scheduled to leave the train station at 4:58 p.m. I decided I would walk back to the apartment after the last test, take out the garbage and do last minute cleaning, and then call for a taxi to pick me up at 3:45 p.m. Yeah right.
As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
It is a good thing that I am an over-planner who leaves room for contingencies. It turns out that August 4th was the day of the big Gay Pride Parade for the Netherlands. In fact, people came from outlying towns and even Great Britain and Belgium to attend the parade, which took place on the city's canals. Unfortunately for me, the parade was passing through the canal in front of my apartment in the afternoon and the road was closed to auto traffic.
So, I walked back to my apartment, finished my last-minute tasks, and had to lug my three bags over four long cobble-stoned blocks to Westerkirk (West Church) to catch a taxi from the taxi stand. As you can see from the pictures, the weather was beautiful and it was HOT! I made it though - the taxi only cost me 6E, and I arrived at the train station by 4:00 p.m. 
While waiting on the platform for the train, I talked to an American woman who lives at The Hague. She told me that the Thalys train between Amsterdam and Paris is considered the "poor man's Orient Express." The train really was fantastic. I had ordered my ticket directly from the SNCF website and got a fabulous price of 60E for a first-class ticket. I checked prices directly at the train station and found a second-class ticket for 98E. My ticket was 38E cheaper AND first class. Yay me!
I was in a row with a single chair, which gave me the best of both worlds - both aisle and window. It also suited my post-exams antisocial tendencies. I tried to read some of my material for my Rome program, but mostly listened to my iPod and looked out the window.
They also served dinner, which was nice - not at all like airline fare - and included wine. I also realized how terrible dutch food really was when the plain orzo pasta that accompanied dinner had more flavor than anything I had eaten during the previous month.The Thalys is a high-speed train, but the tracks between Amsterdam and Brussels are not set up for high-speed travel yet. Therefore, it took 3 hours to go between the two cities. However, once we left Brussels, the train went VERY FAST and we were to Paris in about an hour.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Final Essay from Amsterdam Program
My final essay from the Amsterdam program's international criminal law and international human rights overview course is posted on the Global Justice blog. If you catch errors or typos, please don't point them out to me. I haven't gotten my grades yet and it'll just make me paranoid. :)
http://globaljusticegroup.blogspot.com/2007/08/final-essay-from-amsterdam-program.html
http://globaljusticegroup.blogspot.com/2007/08/final-essay-from-amsterdam-program.html
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
At what temperature does bread bake?
Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone, save electricity, save the environment. If you need something baked, ship it to me express and I'll cook it in my new bedroom.
Seriously, Rome is hotter than the hubs of hell. Warning: grossness to follow. Even my hair sweats. Goodness!
I am sharing an apartment with a very nice girl named Tessa. It is a one bedroom with a hide-a-bed couch in the living room. We are splitting the time in the bedroom two weeks each. She let me take it to start. I appreciatqe it, but now I'm not sure that was a good thing. It is just before 7:00 a.m. and I am sitting in here gasping for fresh air like a fish on the dock.
Right after class today, I am going to find a fan and I'll pay whatever it costs to get one.
I'll also be updating the blog in the next few days with my final posts from Amsterdam, all of the post for France, and will try to keep up to date about Rome from here on out.
Seriously, Rome is hotter than the hubs of hell. Warning: grossness to follow. Even my hair sweats. Goodness!
I am sharing an apartment with a very nice girl named Tessa. It is a one bedroom with a hide-a-bed couch in the living room. We are splitting the time in the bedroom two weeks each. She let me take it to start. I appreciatqe it, but now I'm not sure that was a good thing. It is just before 7:00 a.m. and I am sitting in here gasping for fresh air like a fish on the dock.
Right after class today, I am going to find a fan and I'll pay whatever it costs to get one.
I'll also be updating the blog in the next few days with my final posts from Amsterdam, all of the post for France, and will try to keep up to date about Rome from here on out.
Friday, August 17, 2007
An Update
I have been on Ile d`Yeu since August 8th, with only sporadic internet access at an internet cafe because there was a problem with the house`s connection. Happily, access was restored today.
The bad news, though, is that Wednesday the AC adapter for my laptop broke. I ordered another one from Dell`s parts-vendor in the UK, but will not have it until Monday when I go to Paris to see my French brother Olivier, and my youngest French sister, France (the French version of "Francis"). I had it delivered there in case there was a problem it would not arrive after I left the island.
What this basically means is that I have less than two hours left on my laptop battery, which I am guarding very carefully. Right now I am typing this update using Jacqueline and Pierre`s desktop. However, the keyboard is not the same as in the US. You can imagine the problem this poses for me. I normally type 80 words per minute. It has taken me twenty minutes to type this far. I am going to type the alphabet in the order I would on a US keyboard so you can see what has moved: qbcdefghijkl,noparstuvzxyw. In addition, the following keys have moved: ?,;.:/§! Also, to have the number keys work above the alphabet, you must hold down the shift key. It took me at least eight trys to enter my password before I realized why it wasn`t working.
This is the one part of travel in a foreign country that I had forgotten. It is not that there are tremendous differences - after all, the US and Europe are Western democracies. However, there are a multitude of little differences. For example: (1) My sister Kelly sent me a package by DHL. I found out that it was very important to have not only the address, but also the Family's name on the package for it to be delivered. When it finally was delivered this morning, I did not know that I should have tipped the driver. (2) Jacqueline took a baguette out of the freezer to thaw and put it on a table in the sun. After a while, I flipped it over to thaw the other side and found out that one never puts a baguette top-side down for reasons of "tradition." (3) One never fills people`s water glasses at the table before they are seated, even though you know they will want water. (4) One always finishes one`s piece of bread, even if you leave other tidbits on your plate. This particular bit of etiquette began after the war, I am told.
I could go on and on...
The point is that I am here, in this family, trying not to make gross errors of etiquette, but am pretty much blowing it at every turn. Also, it is downright exhausting: Everytime anyone says anything to me, my brain has to translate it - and the same for anything I say. Sometimes I cannot think of a word in either English or French. It is as if my brain temporarily freezes. I finally had a bit of a meltdown and spent several hours yesterday in my bedroom sobbing.
Despite these difficulties, I am very glad to be here. I cannot believe that I have not seen this family that I love in nearly 19 years. I am resolving here and now to not go more than two years without returning to Europe. Jacqueline and Pierre tell me that I "parle très bien le français." This is nice to hear because I have been reluctant to speak French during the past twenty years because I have had a complex about my accent. Even though I could do more to perfect it, Jacqueline and Pierre tell me that my accent is good. Fortunately, I can trust what they say because Jacqueline treats me like one of her daughters and is not reticent to critique me when warranted.
As soon as I fix the power problem with my computer and have regular Internet access, I will update the blog with photos of the island (georgous!) and tidbits about France and my family here.
The plan for the near future is: Monday - go to Paris and spend the night Chez France. She is an attorney so this should be fascinating. Tuesday - spend the night Chez Olivier and his wife, Marie-Helene. They have an eight-year-old son, Alexandre, whom I have never met. Wednesday - Olivier will take me to the airport at the crack of dawn for my flight to Rome.
One thing I am very grateful for is that this time in France is sort of a "buffer zone" between Holland, where everyone speaks English, to here where I at least speak the language, to Italy, where I do not know much Italian and I suspect that English speakers are not as plentiful as in the Netherlands.
The bad news, though, is that Wednesday the AC adapter for my laptop broke. I ordered another one from Dell`s parts-vendor in the UK, but will not have it until Monday when I go to Paris to see my French brother Olivier, and my youngest French sister, France (the French version of "Francis"). I had it delivered there in case there was a problem it would not arrive after I left the island.
What this basically means is that I have less than two hours left on my laptop battery, which I am guarding very carefully. Right now I am typing this update using Jacqueline and Pierre`s desktop. However, the keyboard is not the same as in the US. You can imagine the problem this poses for me. I normally type 80 words per minute. It has taken me twenty minutes to type this far. I am going to type the alphabet in the order I would on a US keyboard so you can see what has moved: qbcdefghijkl,noparstuvzxyw. In addition, the following keys have moved: ?,;.:/§! Also, to have the number keys work above the alphabet, you must hold down the shift key. It took me at least eight trys to enter my password before I realized why it wasn`t working.
This is the one part of travel in a foreign country that I had forgotten. It is not that there are tremendous differences - after all, the US and Europe are Western democracies. However, there are a multitude of little differences. For example: (1) My sister Kelly sent me a package by DHL. I found out that it was very important to have not only the address, but also the Family's name on the package for it to be delivered. When it finally was delivered this morning, I did not know that I should have tipped the driver. (2) Jacqueline took a baguette out of the freezer to thaw and put it on a table in the sun. After a while, I flipped it over to thaw the other side and found out that one never puts a baguette top-side down for reasons of "tradition." (3) One never fills people`s water glasses at the table before they are seated, even though you know they will want water. (4) One always finishes one`s piece of bread, even if you leave other tidbits on your plate. This particular bit of etiquette began after the war, I am told.
I could go on and on...
The point is that I am here, in this family, trying not to make gross errors of etiquette, but am pretty much blowing it at every turn. Also, it is downright exhausting: Everytime anyone says anything to me, my brain has to translate it - and the same for anything I say. Sometimes I cannot think of a word in either English or French. It is as if my brain temporarily freezes. I finally had a bit of a meltdown and spent several hours yesterday in my bedroom sobbing.
Despite these difficulties, I am very glad to be here. I cannot believe that I have not seen this family that I love in nearly 19 years. I am resolving here and now to not go more than two years without returning to Europe. Jacqueline and Pierre tell me that I "parle très bien le français." This is nice to hear because I have been reluctant to speak French during the past twenty years because I have had a complex about my accent. Even though I could do more to perfect it, Jacqueline and Pierre tell me that my accent is good. Fortunately, I can trust what they say because Jacqueline treats me like one of her daughters and is not reticent to critique me when warranted.
As soon as I fix the power problem with my computer and have regular Internet access, I will update the blog with photos of the island (georgous!) and tidbits about France and my family here.
The plan for the near future is: Monday - go to Paris and spend the night Chez France. She is an attorney so this should be fascinating. Tuesday - spend the night Chez Olivier and his wife, Marie-Helene. They have an eight-year-old son, Alexandre, whom I have never met. Wednesday - Olivier will take me to the airport at the crack of dawn for my flight to Rome.
One thing I am very grateful for is that this time in France is sort of a "buffer zone" between Holland, where everyone speaks English, to here where I at least speak the language, to Italy, where I do not know much Italian and I suspect that English speakers are not as plentiful as in the Netherlands.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
I'm here, but without Internet access
Hi all,
I've arrived at Jacqueline & Pierre's house on Ile d'Yeu. I haven't been able to hook up to the Internet at their house (yet), so I'm not posting as much on the blog. I'll update as soon as I can.
Roxanne
I've arrived at Jacqueline & Pierre's house on Ile d'Yeu. I haven't been able to hook up to the Internet at their house (yet), so I'm not posting as much on the blog. I'll update as soon as I can.
Roxanne
Sunday, August 5, 2007
The Dutch Resistance Museum - *a must-see*
*POST UNDER CONSTRUCTION*
This museum detailed Dutch society leading up to the occupation by the Germans in 1940 and how the resistance movement developed.
Prior to German occupation, Dutch society was fragmented. It had great wealth, but also great poverty. There were 500,000 people unemployed out of 9 million inhabitants. "Those on the dole are regarded with disain. Tens of thousands of Dutch people live below the poverty line and on the edge of hunger."
Society divided into four primary groups, or "pillars" as noted below:
This museum detailed Dutch society leading up to the occupation by the Germans in 1940 and how the resistance movement developed.
Prior to German occupation, Dutch society was fragmented. It had great wealth, but also great poverty. There were 500,000 people unemployed out of 9 million inhabitants. "Those on the dole are regarded with disain. Tens of thousands of Dutch people live below the poverty line and on the edge of hunger."
Society divided into four primary groups, or "pillars" as noted below:
Saturday, August 4, 2007
The Dutch History Museum
The Dutch History museum was interesting, but if the time you spend in Amsterdam is short, you can skip it. The history recounted through the art at the Rijkesmuseum is much more interesting (IMHO).
I also found the history to be a bit one-sided. For example, the museum discusses how the Dutch dominated the seas and had trade routes around the globe. However, they fail to state that a good portion of the trade taking place was for African slaves. They discuss new ships being built, but also do not illustrate that if even 50% of the "cargo" arrived alive, it was considered a sucessful voyage.
They did have a temporary exhibit regarding cesspits. Apparently before sewers or plumbing, a huge hole would be dug in the ground and people would go dump their chamberpots, etc. into the hole. Eventually, they would cover the hole back up with dirt. Unfortunately, on occasion the liquid waste would seep into the groundwater.
Not the most pleasant exhibit I have ever viewed, but not all history is pretty. I think it is too bad the museum's curators are willing to show how the Dutch handled their waste, but unwilling to show the country's other "dirty laundry."
I also found the history to be a bit one-sided. For example, the museum discusses how the Dutch dominated the seas and had trade routes around the globe. However, they fail to state that a good portion of the trade taking place was for African slaves. They discuss new ships being built, but also do not illustrate that if even 50% of the "cargo" arrived alive, it was considered a sucessful voyage.
They did have a temporary exhibit regarding cesspits. Apparently before sewers or plumbing, a huge hole would be dug in the ground and people would go dump their chamberpots, etc. into the hole. Eventually, they would cover the hole back up with dirt. Unfortunately, on occasion the liquid waste would seep into the groundwater.Not the most pleasant exhibit I have ever viewed, but not all history is pretty. I think it is too bad the museum's curators are willing to show how the Dutch handled their waste, but unwilling to show the country's other "dirty laundry."
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