EVE LOVES THINGS

Biltmore Estate Part Three: Gardens

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 03 Apr 2017 19:19:00 +0000

In my two previous posts, we’ve seen the glittering Upstairs and dark, work hard/play hard Downstairs, now we finally come to the Biltmore Estate gardens and conservatories! Today's post is probably the best-looking in the history of the blog, so wipe down your reading spectacles and feast your eyes on the glory of ALL THE PLANTS!

Remember when I said that George Washington Vanderbilt spared no expense? Well, he got Frederick Law Olmsted to do all the landscape design for the house and gardens. Do you vaguely remember some little places called Central Park in New York, the U.S Capitol grounds, or Golden Gate Park in San Fransisco? HE DESIGNED THEM. With friends, of course. He was an early American conservationist and helped develop the first managed forest in the U.S. at Biltmore; Gifford Pinchot, one of the first American foresters, revamped the woods for Olmsted and went on to found the U.S. Forest Service. Apparently, people had really done a number on the forests around Biltmore before the Vanderbilts bought the land, so Olmsted and others convinced the family to manage the forest responsibly so they could profit from the lumber (and retain a nice, lush forest view). The Biltmore Forest School opened in 1913 to teach forestry and conservation techniques that are still in use today. The forest at Biltmore is over 4,500 acres, which I think is pretty impressive. If you're going to have a big house in the woods, make sure you are being nice to the woods!

Naturally, I went to visit this place in the dead of winter to make sure there were hardly any tourists, so most of the garden action outside was not action at all. So I peeped into the greenhouses and NEARLY DIED from the beauty of it all (and from wearing a parka and scarf in a 100% humidity, 80-degree glass box of death).

First, there was the Palm House, which immediately fogged up my camera lens but I think it made the whole experience more dramatic and I kind of felt like I was in a prehistoric jungle, except there wasn’t anything there that could eat me. JUST LOOK AT THIS PLACE:

Next came the Hot House and the Cool House, which were abolutely packed with more leafy greens, flowers, and cacti than you can possibly imagine. How do they keep track of all this?! It's astounding. So, now I am going to shut up and let you observe the beauty. BEHOLD!

Just jumping in to say JESUS that giant leaf is 100% some dinosaur plant and it is truly terrifying. Also, I want one in my house.

I'll end this unbelievable trip to Biltmore Estate with the house itself, seen from the staircase to the gardens. Hopefully another day I can come back in spring or summer when everything is blooming, but I'm so grateful that I was at least able to sneak around in the conservatories and get a much-needed dose of nature. I almost didn't go to Biltmore because I was being a snob, was tired from my road trip, and was reluctant to shell out $50 for a ticket. But it was definitely worth it! I really hope you guys have enjoyed the Biltmore series, and if you haven't seen my post on the house's Upstairs and Downstairs, now's your chance!

So what do you think of the conservatories? Over the top? Too steamy? DID I BORE YOU?? Let me know in the comments!

Biltmore Estate Part Two: Downstairs

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Tue, 28 Mar 2017 18:10:00 +0000

Are you guys ready for round two? If you enjoyed the Upstairs of Biltmore Estate in my last post, now you can see what was going on below decks at this magnificent temple to free enterprise (and velvet damask...Mrs. Vanderbilt liked her damask, now). Be aware that these photos were in low light so it may not be easy to make out details, but I like to think it adds ambiance.

The first part of the Downstairs world, of course, was a dark creepy tunnel of exposed stones (and subpar lighting) that leads you to endless hallways of recreational areas, changing rooms for guests, servants' quarters, and working rooms like kitchens and laundries. First off, you walk through the very American sports rooms, which included this very fine two-lane bowling alley, a gym, and a swimming pool! Observe and appreciate the rowing machine, showers, and weights, which George Vanderbilt III used to both get shredded and to impress his guests; Asheville had been a popular place for nature-filled health retreats and George wanted to make Biltmore a place where you could rest, get in a few frames of bowling, and sweat your booty off in your turn-of-the-century man's low-cut weight-lifting onesie. You know the ones I mean. And when you were done, you could change your clothes in one of many changing rooms on the lower floor, so you didn't have to be caught in your underoos on any of the upper floors if you forgot a comb or your Dapper Dan hair pomade.

While I do love the easy-to-climb ladder at the far end, I don't think I would be okay with an underground swimming pool like this because A) I am a little claustrophobic and B) I don't have much confidence in the strength of lightbulbs in the late nineteenth century. Although it would be a nice place to retreat to after a day of counting all your money and reading stock market ticker tapes in your gentleman's smoking room, which is maybe not where the ticker tape would be but you know what I mean. I also wonder if this swimming pool was sometimes filled with coins and George would swan dive like Scrooge McDuck into it at the end of a long day and bathe in his golden legacy. Nice subway tile, too.

In addition to fun times for yourself and your guests, the downstairs can also be used to house your servants and all the equipment needed to run your hotel-mansion. This means a grand main kitchen with all kinds of smaller rooms (like a meat-roasting room) and a glorious array of copper kitchen pots. I couldn't tell if there was a gas range or not, but there certainly wasn't any of those sad glass-top electric ranges in this place. There may or may not have been gas but there was a good old fashioned fire you could use to roast your half-pig or sauté some fancy French business. This place was very modern and had a walk-in fridge, untold pantries, and two dumbwaiters (one mechanical, one electric). I have to say, if I ever live in a house with a dumbwaiter I will have achieved more than I ever thought possible. But I would also always be afraid of pulling up an attack raccoon just like Shelley Long did in The Money Pit.

I feel like it would be preferable, if you were a house servant in one of these big houses, to be a kitchen person because you would be doing something relatively clean (not cleaning bathrooms or the aftermath of rich people parties) and generally would avoid being meddled with by rich dudes if you were a young servant woman. Plenty of knives around to thwart drunk cocktail party guests! But also it was probably unbearably hot in the kitchens in the summer time, so there's that to consider. I can imagine with all the clothes you had to wear, few labor-saving devices, and lots of roasting going on, you would be drenched pretty quick.

But behold! This is where the laundry rooms come in. Somebody had to wash all those linens what with so many fancy guests in and out of that place, and there were several rooms full of very modern laundry facilities: wash basins (with plumbing!), folding ironing boards that have remained unchanged, tables for folding your linen hankies JUST SO, and giant retractable racks for drying bed sheets. I have to say that when I moved to the UK and everyone was drying their clothes and sheets on a line/rack I was NOT IMPRESSED, but dryers have their problems and if the Vanderbilts had dryers would we have this amazing room of sheet-racks to marvel at? We would not. Also, I have a new appreciation for my grandparents' generation and ones before because they were all using REAL irons (not electric) and washing stuff in tubs, and I do not envy them. Although I bet you would get pretty fit doing all that housework. Maybe this is why all my female ancestors were so meaty.

Ah, Biltmore. You are a shining example of modernity and the emergence of American sportiness. And like many big American houses at the turn of the 20th century, you were filled with newfangled modern conveniences to show off to your guests and to make your life slightly less miserable. I was really surprised that I liked Biltmore so much because I tend to prefer things from the 18th century and earlier, but you have to appreciate how much (and how quickly) technology changed toward the end of the 19th century; fast trains, automobiles, telephones, photography and then films...so many things! You have to wonder how people who were born in the early 19th century must have felt about all this once they got older, and then you think of people born in 1900 who went from the beginnings of electricity in homes to high-speed internet. You can only handle so much! So you know, don't be surprised when old people resist technology. They're tired.

Next time, we're literally going back to nature to look at the gardens and greenhouses! Get ready for incredible, outrageous, gorgeous, unbearably amazing conservatory pictures with more plant species than you can shake a stick at! If you like flowers or have ever been near a plant in your life, I guarantee that you will love this post. Tropicals! Cacti! Perennials! They'll all be here waiting for you. See you next week!

Biltmore Estate Part One: Upstairs

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 20 Mar 2017 16:40:00 +0000

Could this be the first post of 2017? It is indeed! So much has been happening lately. I took a trip to Washington D.C. to look for supremely fancy museum jobs and decided to drive up so that I could take more things with me. During my road trip I decided to stop at Biltmore Estate so that I could be a snob and compare it to all the other stately homes I had been to, and let me tell you, I was AMAZED. This place is incredible: all the refined design aspects of European homes with the advantage of unbridled 19th century American technological progress and nouveau riche capitalism. With their powers combined, they make for a ridiculously gorgeous and ENORMOUS house out in the North Carolina countryside. This will be part one of three because I wanted to talk about everything but not write a short dissertation as a blog post. This one will deal with "Upstairs" or the public part of the house, the next will be about the servants' quarters and facilities in "Downstairs," and the third will be all about their gardens and absolutely magnificent greenhouses.

Biltmore Estate is the biggest home in America. It was finished in 1895, and it's still the biggest. The architect was Richard Morris Hunt, who was the first American to attend the École des Beaux-Arts (cue monacle shaking while smoking long filtered cigarette) and designed the façade of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the New York and the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty, to name but a few of his diamond-encrusted accomplishments. When you are a Gilded Age industrialist, you spare no damn expense when it comes to hiring an architect for your ginormous summer home. George Washington Vanderbilt III had a grand name and a grand fortune to go with it: the Vanderbilt family still owns the estate today and are generally flush with cash (also, I never realized that their name used to be Van der Bilt which makes so much sense it made me feel stupid). For those of you playing the home game and remember famous 1920s socialite Cornelia Vanderbilt, George III was her dad. Are we all on the same page? Yah? MOVING ON.

I see you, hexagonal staircases. Now, the reason that I first wanted to go and make fun of this house is because I read that the architecture was inspired by Chambord, Blois, and Waddesdon (all of which I had already visited) so I assumed that since it was in the U.S. and built at the end of the 19th century, it must just be a poor imitation, right? I mean, Waddesdon is already a copy of Loire Valley château so Biltmore is a copy of a copy, right? WRONG. First of all, the three houses I mentioned are much older than Biltmore, and so have much more limited technology happening inside. Second, although I will stand by my love of Chambord over all other stately homes I've been to, you just can't beat homes that are still owned by the original family and have the original stuff in them: books, instruments, furniture, guns, billiard tables, the works. Royal residences in France tended to get abandoned/stolen so they usually just find some old French stuff to spruce it back up once it's museum time.

I have to give George credit for his front-of-house indoor garden and resplendent dining hall. Just look at that fireplace! Also, the name of the statue in the middle is "Boy Stealing Geese", and although it isn't okay to steal geese I appreciate a goose-centric artwork. Anyway, as you can see from the second picture, that is a fireplace that commands respect and instills fear, which are the two most important qualities in building big frickin' houses. Also, for some reason, they installed a huge pipe organ opposite the fireplace on the balcony above the dining area, and just as I was thinking, "Man I wonder what that beast sounds like..." someone started playing it! It was a very important moment in my musical instrument historian life.

Anyway, the dining hall is fully outfitted for all your Gilded Age nouveau riche and presidential guests. Giant tapestries? Check. Gothic-inspired red-upholstered chairs of doom? Check. Fireplace frieze depicting American narratives of progress? Double check! George and his architect went HAM on this place. Spared no expense!

Let's take a minute to appreciate this VERY FINE library. The more I went through this house the more I fell in love with George who by all accounts was a force to be reckoned with. First a confession: I never get audio guides in fancy houses out of impatience and a too-high opinion of myself so I didn't really know what was going on a lot of the time, but I was able to eavesdrop on a docent dishing out some fun facts in the Library (capital L!). Apparently, George spoke and read EIGHT languages and had a list of books he had read called A List of Books I Have Read or something equally funny. Also, he understood the importance of actual staircases in libraries; you can see the spiral one in the back to the second floor of books. CLASSY. The ceiling, which was impossible to take a non-wonky picture of, is The Chariot of Aurora by Pellegrini which used to hang in the ballroom of the Pisani Palace in Venice, but George and his architect snatched it and plastered it on the ceiling like it was no one's business. So that's actually stretched oil on canvas(es) up there. Spared. No. Expense.

You can't really tell in the second picture of the books, but there's one titled "Musical Instruments." Yay!

Also, Biltmore has put on an exhibition called "Designed for Drama: Fashion from the Classics" throughout the house of costumes from films based on George's favorite books. Cut to me walking into room after room of finely tailored suits and ridiculous dresses from the 18th century onward, including this very fine dark green number worn by Michael Gambon in Sleepy Hollow. I'd like to think this fly AF suit would be a nice, casual everyday piece for going to the bank and dropping off three duffel bags of money.

So the second picture is Mrs. Vanderbilt's room, and I don't remember what film the costumes are from but the green one on the right was worn by Gillian Anderson, which was pretty exciting because when I was in middle school I worshipped the supernatural ground she walked on. Also, I heartily approve of Mrs. Vanderbilt's vanity table, and her huge Rococo mirror on the right side (and the spooky reflection of the seated costume which freaks me out every time that I look at it). The whole room is in Louis XV style, which the Biltmore book I bought in the gift shop tells me was very popular with Gilded Age Americans (which I will NOT call "Victorian" because there were things besides Victoria wasn't the only person influencing the world from 1837 to 1901, thank you very much!).

Next, in the bottom picture, is one of the suits worn by Michael Fassbender in the 2011 Jane Eyre: I love that damn book and I love that terrifying German-Irish dude. And those boots! Those are the boots of a man that does not mess around, unless of course you consider how much he messed around with Jane's head, which was not cool.

Okay! So that was the fancy part of the house that all the guests would see. The next post will be Downstairs: servants' quarters, kitchens, basement gym and swimming pool! Cause you know those American industrialists wanted to get JACKED to look intimidating while they made more money than you can possible imagine. See you next week!

The Waddesdon Manor Harp

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 19 Dec 2016 17:00:00 +0000

HARPS. HARPS YOU GUYS. Well, only one harp.

In case you don't know, I wrote about 18th century French harps for my M.A. dissertation and I am obsessed with theses things. LOOK AT IT. It's so unnecessary and unapologetic. And I appreciate an instrument that is a pain in the ass: difficult to play, delicate to move, and expensive as hell. And it does. Not. Care. I love these harps, and I recently(ish) went and visited this one at Waddesdon Manor because I am nosy and like making harp friends.

I went with some friends to Waddesdon Manor in Aylesbury, which is the home of the British branch of the Rothschild family. Basically they were nouveau riche and lookin' to spend some serious cash on all kinds of 18th century stuff that all the fancy people were into, so the house is full of expensive Louis XVI furniture, Sèvres porcelain, and lots of Reynolds and Gainsborough portraits they bought (these are two of my favorite portrait artists and I DIE when I see any of their work). Cue the gasp of horror at having to BUY a Gainsborough of another nobleperson and not just snapping your fingers to get him to come paint you at your house! LIKE A PEASANT!

Can we take a minute to appreciate the soft boudoir lighting they had going on in here?

Anyway, I slunk around the corner of one of the main rooms while cursing the Rothschilds under my breath for hogging all the Gainsboroughs and Reynolds when I spied this golden beauty lurking in the back of the room! I have become such a freak that I generally flinch when I see a vagely triangular shape because I think it's a harp, but I could tell from far away that it was from the 1780s and I wanted to be its friend. So I emailed the curator and asked to come see the harp, and she said to come on a Monday when the Manor would be closed to the public. Cut to me in a black cab at the front gate of the house politely shouting into an intercom that I was not a sueprcreep and had an appointment to come legitimately creep in the house. They finally let me in and the curator met me in front of the house and snuck me along some corriders to get to the offices where I left my things, then we descended into the darkness of the public rooms where all the curtains were shut and lights were turned off. It was dark and spooky and I was alllllll over it. And there were ZERO tourists there, unlike when I visited the first time and it was so crowded in some rooms I almost fainted.

Now, I don't know much about this particular harp because I wasn't able to open it up and take a peek inside the soundbox to check for the maker's plaque. I can tell you that it's a typical single action pedal harp in the French style, which was popular from about 1760 to 1815 or so. Single action means you can press each pedal down once, so there's a starting position and a raised position (natural and sharp notes); each pedal operates a hook on all the strings of the same note to change their pitch. They came from Germany to France at the beginning of the 18th century, and by the 1780s (when this was most likely built) they had become golden Rococo masterpieces. This particular single action had been heavily conserved and was pretty fragile, so I don't blame them for not letting some rando bust it open (or even touch it). But also, OBSERVE THE GOLDEN LOVELINESS.

It's missing a pedal and someone was a little rambunctious with the soundboard and snapped it, but otherwise is in great shape! It can't be played, but that's pretty rare for harps this old; you would normally have to spend a lot of time and money on maintenance generally, and usually what happens with these is that they end up in the attic and get eaten up by bugs or else the string tension slacks and it affects the wood. It's much easier to keep something like a bassoon or violin playing for 200 years because they are much less fragile, smaller, and aren't full of iron mechanisms that get crusty after a while of not playing them. You have to oil that shit! Instruments are high maintenance children. Old instruments are the kid from Problem Child--definitely the Devil but also kind of cute so, whatever.

I would talk more about the history of the harp, but that's another post in itself! I had to try VERY hard not to just copy+paste my dissertation in here, because it's SO INTERESTING. Would you guys be interested in a harp-history post? With lots of pics?? Maybe multiple posts? LET ME KNOW!

Angus Walk: South London Green Chain

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Tue, 08 Nov 2016 17:42:00 +0000

On my MA course, we were often graced with the presence of Angus, a visiting lecturer from SOAS. At the end of the course he taught--and as often as we could politely beg him for another--he would plan a history walk around London, where you would learn more from him just talking than you had ever had learned about anything in your life. How all that information stays in one person's mind, I don't know. Anyway, Angus usually takes us on London city tours and tells us all about architecture, companies, politics, and famous people; we'd had a City of London, East London docks, and London cemetery tour already. This time, we asked him to do a South London tour of all the greenest green spaces down there. There is a path called the Green Chain that is full magnificent tree-lined and cemetery-filled walking paths to be had south of the river, and Angus walked (sprinted) with us right through it

Now, to my American friends, prepare yourself for some English pronunciations! As you can see on the sign, we were wandering through Sydenham (Sih-denum) Hill, one of many gorgeous leafy green areas of Southern London which used to be the Great North Wood before it became a trendy neighborhood in the 19th century. We also wandered through the boroughs of Southwark (Suhtherk) and Lewisham. Dulwich (Dull-itch), or Deepest Darkest Dulwich as my friend calls it, is around there as well, and that's where the Horniman Museum and Gardens are. The museum has a musical instrument collection, and I once went to a really awesome ethnomusicology conference on instruments there with my friend who spoke about mouth harps in Norway (and totally shut down some jerk who didn't understand why people liked mouth harps). Anyway, even the suburb parts are green like this, and there are tons of gorgeous cottages, a great place for 18th century paintings called Dulwich Picture Gallery, and all the wonders of English leafiness within Overground distance of all your favorite London things. Why are people so hung up about living or visiting friends 'South of the River'?? EMBRACE IT.

There were lots of hills and stairs involved and I got a good workout because I was stupid and decided to run up all the stairs, so I was sore the next day. But I digress. We passed lots of WWI cemeteries including Nunhead Cemetery, one of the Magnificent Seven of London cemeteries. It's Victorian, like almost everything around here, and was opened in 1840. It came complete with an Anglican church but it lost its roof in a fire, so now it's just open to the sky.

I don't know how many miles we walked but it was probably around twelve, and by the time we got to the restaurant Angus took us to we were so hungry we almost starting eating the silverware. The place is in Peckham and is called Artusi, and let me tell you, I had one of the best meals of my life there. We got a set menu where they just kept bringing out trays of delicious fresh/local/sustainable/seasonal things. I don't remember exactly what was in which dish, but there were cuttlefish and cherry tomatoes and an anchovy emulsion in there somewhere that was to die for. As usual, I was too busy stuffing my piglet face to take any pictures, but just trust me when I say it was incredible and fresh-looking. Also, we had some kind of cake with raspberry sauce and custard, and we all looked at each other like, is this happening? Is this real life?? It was real life, and after we had stuffed our miserably rumbling gullets, we waddled half-drunk to the overground and went off in our respective directions all over London to sleep like we had never slept before.

Bye for now, my friends. There is more Englishness to come!

Sardinia and the Costa Smeralda

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Fri, 14 Oct 2016 18:13:00 +0000

HEY SQUIRRELFRIENDS. Things are rough these days. There are two super shady snakes trying to claw their way into the White House, everyone is trying to keep new friends out of their countries, and the job market for people studying ridiculously niche kinds of history is difficult for some reason. So take a load off and stare at some of these tranquil beach photos and forget all about the impending doom that is part of all our lives at the moment!

So, you probably remember some mumblings about me writing a dissertation. Well, from about the end of February until the beginning of May I was increasingly trapped behind my computer and typing away about harps, fancy French dudes, and REVOLUTION. Not really. But it made my conclusion very scary to go from tiny tinkly harps to guillotines. Anyway, after we submitted the dissertation in early May and were F-R-E-E, we still had all of May and June to work on the final exhibition, symposium, and publication. I was on the Show team and spent a lot of time going back and forth to a print shop saying sorry, actually, can I change this order for the hundredth time? I became BEST friends with the printer guy. Then we graduated on July 1st at Royal Albert Hall, where the Spice Girls perform their concert at the end of SpiceWorld (don't pretend you don't remember). After that I hung out with my parents in London for a while, then my friend and I jetted off to Sardinia to lay on the beach for a week and do less than nothing while eating entire links of salami.

My friend and I stayed on the Costa Smeralda on the northeast coast of Sardinia. The first beach we went to was Porto Istana, which was one of the few free public beaches around. As you might expect, several years ago all the rich jerks came and bought up all the nice beaches and put their super yachts and/or pricey resorts all over the place, but Porto Istana was still stunning. The first day was overcast and windy, and my friend and I ended up with scalps full of sand, but the next few days were super sunny and everyone was out splashing around. The last day we decided to live dangerously and try another beach, called Le Saline. This place was GORGEOUS and there was hardly anyone there, but for a reason; there weren't any vendors, the sand was jagged and sharp, and it was H-O-T. We had been renting chairs and umbrellas every day but there were none to be had, and my friend and I were rapidly boiling on the sand. But we had some pretty nice views to boil to:

Are you feeling relaxed? Good. The world is a particularly turbulent and scary place these days, but there are still beautiful places to look at, and it's totally okay to tune out of the real world for a few minutes every day and pretend we aren't living through the end times. It was really nice being at the beach for a week and pretending I had no responsibilities, but then I had to return to London, look for jobs, accept the reality that I wouldn't get a visa, then realize I had to go home, then actually move home. It's been hard coming home, but then I look through my pictures of all the places I went to and feel pretty lucky that I at least had two years to live abroad and see beaches like this. So if you are having a rough time because of the election, immigration, or just a period of change in your life, seek out some pretty pictures or cat videos or drag queen makeup tutorials and zone out for a little while. You deserve it.

Marseille

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Fri, 07 Oct 2016 18:49:00 +0000

OH HEY! Remember how I used to have a blog? Well, recently I actually deleted this blog in a fit of anger (so many of my life decisions are made this way) but I didn't delete it forever! I am BACK and have so many lovely photos to share with you, as well as some updates on my life: I finished my MA, moved back home to Louisiana, and am now on the job hunt. I had been so busy with the end of year exhibition, fitting in last minute London activities, and packing up all my junk that I kind of fell off the face of the earth, but I have returned for good. First, I have these amazing pics from my trip to Marseille last year, which I thought were appropriate because my friend and I took this trip as a reward for finishing a year of studying and to get away from the cold, wet London weather for a bit. Also, you will now know the truth behind my love affair with madeleines! Read on for dazzling Côte d'Azur snaps and of course, historical happenings!

Hi. This is Marseille. Marseille is a sea port on the southeast coast of France on the Mediterranean, which is known as the Côte d'Azur (Azure Coast), because the water is so blue and gorgeous it actually is insulting. WE GET IT, FRANCE. You are marvelous at lots of things. Anyway, Marseille has been an active seaport since the 6th century AD, and as such has a history of being a little sketch. But in 2013 the city got the European City of Culture Award and has been polished to a high sheen, although any port or high-traffic city like this one is bound to have some unsavory cargo moving through it. My friend Brittany and I watched The Connection before the trip, which is all about how dangerous Marseille was in the 1970s because of the MOUNTAINS of heroin moving through the city. Remember that movie The French Connection with Gene Hackman? Yeah, that movie was no joke. Most of the heroin in Europe was going through here, and you know everyone was down in the 70s. We were super scared after seeing the movie but it's all good now, I mean, most cities were super sketch in the 70s, am I right? Well, anyway, there were OLD BUILDINGS galore:

Marseille was incredible. We went to a huge fortress-museum and I took lots of sweeping panorama pictures of the Mediterranean and all the sand-colored architecture. It was pretty hot outside and we were gently baking on all the terraces, but it was worth it to catch all the BLUES!

Also, Marseille is full of actual history and literary history, too. Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo is set in Marseille, and the main character spends almost 20 years at the island-prison Chateau d'If. THIS IS A REAL PLACE. There is actually a fortress/prison on an island off the coast of Marseille that If was based on. Unlike the book, the island is pretty close by, so if you pulled a Dantes and snuck out of the prison in a body bag that was meant for your friend, and ended up getting thrown over the cliff into the ocean when you thought you were getting buried, and you ended up getting out of the chains and swimming to the surface, you wouldn't have far to go to be in the middle of town instead of washed up on an island with some badass new pirate friends that will let you join their gang. Are you following? Also, if you haven't seen the movie they made about ten or so years ago with Jim Caviezel and Guy Pierce, you are missing out on a wonderful life. France! Revenge! Stately homes! Sneering aristocrats! NAPOLEON! It has everything you could want. Including a VERY VERY FRENCH town hall.

We really lucked out on where we stayed. Our Airbnb was across from the Opera, and we could hear the singers practicing during the day and hear performances at night. Right around the corner was this LIFE-CHANGING bakery called Boulangerie Aixoise that served the best madeleines on the face of this earth. They were dipped in chocolate, super thick, and I wanted to die every time I had one. Madeleines are shaped like little boats but they do no taste like boats. They taste like all of your hopes and dreams. We went back to this bakery almost every day and I could have lived inside of it. They also served these little anchovy pizza-tarts (lots of Franco-Italian mashups going on) that were crammed with garlic and tasted outrageous.

My only regret is that we didn't manage to get Bouillabaisse! What! The horror! For those who don't know about the glory of this dish, it's a traditional French fish soup with saffron and rouille (fancy French sauce of wonder) and it is everything. Seafood is something I DO NOT JOKE ABOUT. I had one in Austin, Texas and it changed me as a person. But don't worry. I shall return to Marseille someday (and probably stay in that same amazing Airbnb) and I will eat bouillabaisse and madeleines until the day I die.

Next up, to keep with the Mediterranean/end-of-term theme, my trip to SARDINIA!

Canterbury Cathedral

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Tue, 16 Aug 2016 11:32:00 +0000

This is a special ghost edition of Eve Loves Things: Canterbury Cathedral! This way for 100% real ghosts and ghost photographs which are in no way a result of a smudge on my camera lens.

My friend had finished her MA and was heading back to the States, so we decided to go on one last day trip to Canterbury. It was full of old things and old creepy ghost feelings, as you can see in the 100% authentic ghost photography which is, I repeat, not a drop of water that landed on my lens when it was raining.

So much scrolling! Listen, Canterbury in incredible. I've seen a lot of gothic cathedrals, but this one was so huge and impressive it was terrifying. Because the crypt is above ground, the cathedral has several floors in the centre, and because they don't get any light it feels outrageously dark and spooky, which if you ask me is half the point. Granted, the point of many gothic churches was to fill them with light by using so many windows and light-coloured stone, but also I think it adds to the whole life and death vibe of a Christianity that communicated more through imagery than text. When you had lots of illiterate churchgoers, you had to remind them what's what by putting gargoyles and stuff on your already horrifyingly large church-tomb.

Also, Canterbury is actually for REAL haunted with important Christian ghosts. Thomas Beckett was the archbishop of Canterbury and was having a tiff with king Henry II about the churches' rights. The king sent some soldiers to the cathedral and they cut Thomas' head off where he was kneeling to pray, which is a pretty cheap shot. After that he became a huge Christian martyr and saint, and tons of people made pilgrimages to Canterbury to see his relics and hope that some of their voodoo magic rubbed off on them, cause you do NOT mess around with relic-magic.

Anyhoo, remember when you had to read The Canterbury Tales in high school English and probably regretted your entire life? They were written about people coming to the Cathedral to hang out with the crypt of Thomas Beckett. People came to the cathedral for hundreds of years, until Henry VIII destroyed Beckett's shrine when he was generally pillaging all the Catholic churches in England, because he was a JERK. I mean, take their money if you want, but leave the super old crypt for posterity at least!

I have to say, my favorite part of any medieval cathedral is the cloisters. I'm fairly sure I was a monk/nun in a former life because when I walk around cloisters I feel like I belong there. This also happens in libraries, which is where you spend most of your time if you're a fancy monk copying manuscripts. And I would have been the fanciest monk, dammit. Or actually, the apothecary monk, because you were basically a witch, and I think I was also a witch.

Coming back to reality, the cloisters were gorgeous and the sun was very polite and came out when we were walking in them. The grass was VERY GREEN, and I think you aren't allowed to walk on it to preserve the greenness. The cloisters must have been hard place to live but also a relatively safe one, since the church more or less protected you and fed you and such, although I can't imagine things were champagne and caviar unless you were the archbishop and you probably ignored most of the rules about humility and poverty and just threw DOWN at monk parties whenever you had the chance. At least that's what I am led to believe after reading The Name of the Rose, which I definitely recommend if you like reading murder mysteries, stories about monastic life, and if you don't mind having obscure mystical text titles in Latin thrown in your general direction whilst you read.

University of Cambridge

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Tue, 26 Jul 2016 09:00:00 +0000

I hear a lot of angry British people mutter about people who went 'Oxbridge'. Oxbridge is a combination of the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge and is basically like saying Ivy League in the States. Just like in the States, there are crazy smart overachievers as well as trust fund babies, but it's really funny to watch people's ears prick up like a dog when they hear OXBRIDGE, whether they hate it or worship it.

I just went for the cheese scones at Fitzbillies.

In September I went to a musical instrument conference at the University of Cambridge. The conference was hilarious because it was partly organised by the Institute of Acoustics, and apparently a lot of the academics researching and writing about instruments are physicists and astronomers because they know about sound bouncing around in a conical shape and such. Half of the presentations were lots of math equations up on a Powerpoint slide and I was a little terrified, but there were also some insane 3D scanning and renderings going on.

Now, there are two things I think about when I think of Cambridge. The first is my friend Denys, who studied abroad there for a year and who lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts while she was at MIT. The second is Brideshead Revisited, or else every other kinds of early 20th century novel about sad privileged white boys being super sad because, you know, sleeping on a bed made of money is uncomfortable at times. Of course, now Cambridge is more than simply a posh boys' club; women can go to Cambridge now and it's full of super smart, terrifying geniuses like my friend. But lots of things stayed the same and the whole place is very weirdly historic. The river is a big thing, and there are lots of flat boats you can rent (they call it punting) to pretend you are in Bridget Jones reciting Keats while drinking a Diet Coke. Or so I assume. Anyway, the river and its surrounding bits were really pretty and picturesque, and there were cows everywhere to complete the whole countryside motif.

The most medieval part (I think) is King's College Chapel, which has all the important components of high medieval architecture and what everyone on house-shopping shows on HGTV is looking for: high ceilings, lots of natural light, CHARACTER, and tons of storage. This chapel in particular has really amazing spindly ceiling bits that fan out like a plant. There's also some SERIOUS stained glass going on in there. The glass looks amazing when it's sunny out, and the whole place looks very bright and airy because the stone is light in color and the whole place is basically a glass box, whereas cathedrals are sometimes darker from their shape and exterior things blocking light (or dirty old stonework).

Another friend who went to Cambridge for undergrad was explaining all the rituals and traditions and such and I got a little overwhelmed, but she said that you sit in your College in the chapel, thus the awesome members only plaque above. She also directed me to Fitzbillies, the cafe in the first picture, where they serve cheese scones. I went back to that place way more times than I should have in three days, but I have no regrets about those delicious damn scones.

I really enjoyed wandering around Cambridge because it had plenty of funky old parts like alleyways and ancient pubs and such. It was nice too because I came right before all the new undergrads would get there, so it was pretty peaceful and I didn't get run over by a swarm of cyclists like I thought I might. I was really into the whole medieval thing. In fact, I met someone at the conference who showed me around Peterhouse, the oldest College at Cambridge with a dining hall that was supposedly the oldest building in England still used for its original purpose. SO MANY MEDIEVAL GOINGS ON!

And there will be even more medieval goings on in my next post: Canterbury Cathedral!

Versailles

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Tue, 31 May 2016 09:00:00 +0000

The long-awaited Versailles post is finally here! SUCH GOLD! VERY FRANCE! SO WOW!

When I was in Paris in February doing research, I decided to mosey on down to Versailles to get a look at the golden splendour that is Versailles. Also, they have two very fancy harps that I wanted to get a look at while I was at it. And I've said it before and I'll say it again, the dead of winter is a great time to go to see castles in France because no one else will be there. The palace still had a lot of people milling around, but the gardens and Grand and Petit Trianon were all but deserted. A friend of mine told me that he went in July and waited two hours to get in to the palace. Not so in February!

So anyway, Versailles. There was a hunting lodge in the village of Versailles since the early seventeenth century, but Louis XIV decided to make it a huge sprawling mansion in the 1660s. Twenty years later Louis XIV made all the important court people move there so he could keep an eye on them, and Versailles became the centre of political power for a time instead of Paris. Then of course he started the whole cult of the Sun King thing, and everything got a bit Ancient Egypt, until he died in 1715. When I was there they were having an exhibition on his death called Le Roi est Mort (The King is Dead), all about how he outlived his son and had about 500 mistresses and was generally large and in charge. I was watching one of the Kardashian shows once and Scott Disick went to the Met (I think) and saw that really famous portrait of Louis XIV, and he lost his mind. He couldn't get over the furs and the 'chains' hanging over his shoulders and said, 'I gotta step up my GAME!' You do, Scott. We could all take a page out of Louis XIV's book of looking super fly.

So anyway, after Louis XIV kicked the bucket there were lots of additions and renovations and such, and now the palace is just obscenely huge. In addition to being super huge, the decorators left no stone unturned when it came to putting gold, paint, marble, and other junk on top of junk. I mean, these are the ceilings! CEILINGS!!

Like I said, no stone left unturned.

There were lots of smaller rooms with all kinds of furniture and arts pieces and such, and of course royal family paintings and busts were everywhere. The painting above is of Marie Leszczyńska, who was Louis XV's wife. I was really into the whole room setup with the red wallpaper and yellow-gold frame; when in doubt, gild EVERYTHING. Also, in general your painting frame should be large enough to write a small novel as the caption on the bottom.

But let's take a moment to appreciate the bust above, which is just swept up in the wind and looking fabulous. I feel like the Beyoncé wind turbine look has always been a classic, and if you really want to impress your guests, you should have a marble bust of yourself in a very visible area looking carefree. Also, this bust is by BERNINI, who is probably the most incredible sculptor of all time. If you don't believe me just take a look through Google images for some of his works and your brain will explode.

Meanwhile, when you walk out the back of this place you really appreciate how big it is. Not to put down 18th century people, but I'm sure they wet themselves when they saw this place for the first time because it is widely impressive. Also, walking around this part made me think of the part in Midnight in Paris when Michael Sheen--one of those pretentious Francophile American jerks you constantly want to punch in the face--gives a tour of Versailles and is just going on and on about the history in the snobbiest way possible, and you just want to push him down the stairs. He would have been fine, just dusty.

The French sure like their tree-lined vistas, and the gardens are full of them. They are also full of huge amazing fountains, which are of course gilt to death because what kind of cheap jerk would have non-gold figures on their outdoor fountain?? Continuity is key, people.

Sadly it was still the middle of winter so most things in the garden were dead or hiding. But dang, these garden designers did NOT mess around. When you think about it, it must have taken forever to do all that landscaping when all you have are hand tools and horses to do the heavy lifting. But something they did have that we certainly don't is patience. And you would have to have a lot to wait for your palace and gardens to be built by hand from pencil drawings. I remember an industrial designer telling me that he had trouble finding designers to hire for his company because they all knew how to render stuff in 3D but had never built a model in their life. What! They should be put through the seventeenth century school of life for a few months to get their skills up to scratch.

But I digress.

And because, you know, one outrageously enormous house isn't nearly enough, you should also build some theatres and satellite houses out on your property that extends forever. That way you are so far away from the Big House that you could actually feel like you are in a different village, and periodically shirk your country-running duties. Enter Grand Trianon and Petit Trianon. So many royal people have been in and out of these places that I forgot the timeline, but at one point when Napoleon had moved in to Versailles he would use Grand Trianon a lot. I know this because I bought a Napoleon t-shirt in their gift shop.

Petit Trianon is mostly famous now because that's where Marie Antoinette would go to spend some alone time. In addition to the small palace she had there, she also had a fake peasant village built called Hameau de la Reine (Hamlet of the Queen), where she would pretend to be a peasant because, you know, peasants have a peaceful and carefree life, right? If you think that, go read Peasants into Frenchmen The Modernization of Rural France, 1870-1914 and you will fully understand why Marie Antoinette was spitting in their faces with the fake village bit. It may be about the late nineteenth century but it talks about pre-Revolutionary peasants too. If you actually read that book in its entirety you are a golden star and deserve a parade held in your honour, because that book is a doozy.

A WILD HARP APPEARS! Sadly this isn't the super crazy harp owned by Marie Antoinette, but you can see her crazy one here. I think it is part of the Queen's apartment in the main château, which was closed off for conservation/refurbishment. I have to say that I admire that M.A. liked rhinestones on her string pegs because when you are the Queen of France and it's high Rococo time, you get the sparkliest harp in France. Jean-Henri Naderman made that one (or at least his workshop did), and you can certainly see why his harps are always praised as the best decorated. Back then harpsichords had huge scenes painted on the insides, which you could dramatically open for your guests and have them come mingle around your when you played. Harps tended to have more sculpture on them because they had less surface area, but when they put sculpture on they did not mess around. Animal and mythical creatures abound!

The harp in this photo was way in the back behind a barrier so I couldn't snoop on it like I wanted to, and sadly all the harpsichords had their covers down to keep the dust out. When I was doing my research in Paris I met with a curator who used to be in charge of the harps at the Musée de la Musique and he said dust getting in keyboards is a conservation nightmare so they just keep them closed all the time, which I understand, but I wanted to see if they had the reverse-colour keys! Oh well.

Sadly none of the hamlet cottages were open, and one of them way being completely renovated, but you got the idea that everything was there: windmill, lighthouse-looking thing, gardener's cottage (the last photo), and a little lake. It was very Disney-ish and seemed fake, which was kinda creepy. It made me sad that royal people could be so disconnected from reality that they want to pretend to be a peasant. It's a common story (remember Jasmine in Aladdin?), wanting to be a commoner when you're under the pressure of court life. I mean, being forced to marry someone and leave your home country is pretty awful, but also you get fed regularly? And silk couture and jewels? And servants? I mean I get the whole lonely princess/queen thing, but...the peasant thing is a bit much. But that's none of my business. Also, I wouldn't mind having any piece of furniture that she ever touched. There were some QUALITY pieces in Petit Trianon.

Tune in next week for a special ghost edition of the blog: CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL!

Loire Valley Part Two: Amboise

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Wed, 11 May 2016 11:00:00 +0000

GUESS WHO FINISHED THEIR DISSERTATION?! I did. Three days early. I feel reborn.

Here is the super late but much-anticipated part two of my French sojourn that was definitely in December but I'm pretty sure the castle hasn't change any since then.

After our trek through Chambord, we moseyed down to Amboise to see the château. This one was at the top of a ridge with lots of lookout towers where you could feel high and mighty, looking down on your subjects. This ridge has been settled since the Iron Age, and became important as a fortified position in the 6th century when King Clovis of France met with the Visigoths there. I laughed when I first read that bit because Clovis is the name of a crawfish in a series of Cajun children's books I read as a kid called Clovis l'Écrevisse. There was also another fancy French noble called Gaston de France who was the duc of Orléans, Chartres, Valois, Anjou and Alençon, comte of Blois (where we also went), of Montlhery and Limours, baron of Amboise and seigneur of Montages, because if you're going to have a title you should have ALL THE TITLES. His Cajun animal counterpart is Gaston Grasshopper. GOOGLE IT.

On top of the ridge there was actually a huge flat terrace with the castle, chapel, lookout towers, and a big garden I didn't get to go into because I came right before they closed. I did get to wander around the rest of it and it was amazing because I was the only person there, and it felt like it was MY castle.

It might as well have been mine because when I turned a corner in the castle there was a SURPRISE HARP! It was right next to a gorgeous rosewood-covered grand piano, and of course both of them were by Erard Frères because if you are the Duc de Chartres you can afford super fancy instruments. It's really funny that I found a harp here because in 1782, the Duc de Chartres hired the Comtesse de Genlis as the gouverneur to his sons, which was traditionally a role for a (military) man, so of course everyone assumed the Duc was having her for a live in mistress. The Duc was the cousin of Louis XVI and his sons were fairly close in line for the throne. One of the sons that Mme de Genlis tutored would actually become King Louis Philippe I during the Restoration after they booted Napoleon out of Europe (the first time). Mme de Genlis was really unpopular because she was really outspoken about education and harp playing, to the point that people would roll their eyes when she came into a room because she just wanted to talk about harps all the time. I actually read somewhere that a woman said people would avoid her because she just wanted to talk about harps. I can kind of relate because harps are hilarious but I don't think that's what Genlis was saying. Also, she was super pretentious and though she was pretty rad, and eighteenth century nobles were big on politeness and not a fan of her always congratulating herself on being awesome.

Anyway, one of the later Duchesses had a very nice Erard harp and an almost matching grand piano. MUST BE NICE.

Must also be nice to have a great big chapel on the other side of your ridge-terrace with stained glass windows and such. This one was very gothic-looking and stone-y, but it was also really cute because it was tiny and all by itself on the edge of the ridge. They seemed to be really into putting buildings on the edge, which I would not advise, but then I suppose if you want to look out onto your dominions you need a perch. Also may have something to do with the sun and those windows...who knows what are the whims of rich aristocrats.

This place was absolutely gorgeous, especially because there were zero tourists and the weather was nice. I like these stone castles; French people knew what they were doing when it came to building big houses on rivers. I was sad because I didn't get to talk about the harp in my dissertation because it's from the early eighteenth century and I was focusing on harps before 1789. Soon I might have an actual post with lots of pictures of ridiculous gilded Rococo harps with mermaids and roosters sculptures, but that's for another day. The next post, however, will be super fancy and French indeed: my wintery trip to Versailles! Furniture! Architecture! Napoleon! MORE GOLD THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE!

Loire Valley Part One: Chambord

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 25 Jan 2016 10:00:00 +0000

Hello lovelies! I’ve been away slowly dying a joyous dissertation death, but everything’s going (suspiciously) well at the moment and I thought I would regale you with the story of my trip to the Loire Valley in France! This is part One of Three; I went to lots of châteaux and couldn't possibly fit everything into one post. Pro tip: going to stuff on the off season means you might be wandering through a giant castle completely on your own and it's like you own it, but without having to worry about taking care of it. Head this way for great big fancy castles made by big fancy gents!

I went to France for a week to hang out with some family friends in the Loire Valley, which is where the Renaissance princes built their enormous château and went hunting and such. I haven’t seen every manor in England, but so far I can see that French princes and kings knew what was UP when it came to building outrageously huge houses. The biggest and baddest is definitely Chambord (which is apparently also where they make Chambord liqueur in the cool sphere bottle that I’ve never tried). It was super classy and I'm pleased to report that in winter French château have working fireplaces that are the size of my current bedroom and thus very toasty. Also, there was a huge menacing fog that descended on us in about thirty minutes out of nowhere. It lasted the entire time I was in France and the ambiance was GREAT. But that explains why the first two pictures are dreary and the rest are in full Technicolor.

François I built this one, and he was by all accounts a sassy and fabulous monarch. Sadly we didn’t learn anything about him in school, but he was a member of the House of Valois who was strutting around at the beginning of the 16th century. François was really into the Renaissance and was a famous patron of the arts and humanities. He also knew what he was doing when he built this place, because it's both outrageous and tasteful at the same time.

Chambord is famous for these giant octagonal staircases, which are on the outside and interior of the château. They’re definitely made for royal people, because you have to walk really slowly and carefully down them as there’s no hand rail, but I figure if you’re the Queen of France you probably enjoy floating down staircases at no one’s pace but your own. Also I do not envy all the people that had to go up or down these monsters with a torch in the middle of the night. Not a 'torch' as in the British word for flashlight, but a giant stick on fire.

The only picture of the inside that was remotely salvageable (dark castle lighting and all) was this incredible snippet that I wish would be my life. One of my many past lives was definitely in 18th century France, and even if I wasn't rich I would want a damn secretary desk, because they are just nice. I wouldn't really enjoy scratchy quill pens.

The moral if the story is this: if there's a major revolution going on in a country with a huge aristocracy, keep an eye on royal residences because they might get abandoned and repossessed by the state (as happened here), but in between you can probably squat there for a few years. Otherwise, you can go during the off season and mostly have the place to yourself! It's a pretty good feeling.

Stay tuned for Part Two: Amboise!

Design Study Trip to Istanbul

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 03 Aug 2015 17:00:00 +0000

In April my programme went to Istanbul to look at architecture, design, and generally to feast on baklava and turkish delight. Unfortunately I'm allergic to nuts, so when everyone else was in the bakeries I was outside the window in the rain like the cat at the end of Breakfast at Tiffany's. But I made up for it by eating lots of simit (sesame seed bagels) and hummus. Probably too much hummus. And oh man, they had this little tahini bread/cake thing that was twisted up like a pretzel, and let me tell you that was the most delicious little thing I ate on the whole trip. I will dream about for years.

On the first day we went on a whirlwind tour of famous mosques around the city, such as Suleymaniye (for sultan Suleyman), the Blue Mosque, and the mosque of Sultan Selim I. The Hagia Sophia was built by the Byzantine Romans as an Orthodox Christian church in the 6th century A.D., and was later converted into a mosque. Now it's a public museum, and you can wander around at will inside (unless you are too lazy to wait in line for two hours to get in, like we were). If you've seen the movie The Fall, it's the church that they walk into and see those dudes hanging from the ceiling. If you haven't seen The Fall, put every part of your life on pause and go see it RIGHT THIS MINUTE. Watch it twice cause it's complicated, but it's seriously the most beautiful movie ever made. But it cannot compete with seeing these mosques in person. I mean, damn.

We also went to Topkapi, the old imperial palace complex. The best and craziest part by far is the harem, where the sultan and his family (and their huge entourage of servants, eunuchs, and maids) lived in golden splendour. Every inch of every dome is covered in decoration, and the tiles (all hand-painted) are just plain ridiculous. RIDICULOUS. The Ottomans were definitely part of the 'more is more' camp. There were rooms upon rooms upon rooms, and we all got lost because each part was more tile-y than the last. And they loved their Rococo. Apparently when French designs were coming in during the 17th and 18th centuries, the Ottomans just ate it up. Lots of mosques and most of the harem had some kind of Baroque or Rococo scrollwork going on, and plenty of gold leaf. One of the things I loved about the city was that there were all kinds of styles going on at once, but it all worked together. Our tutors were asking us whether it felt more like a European or 'Asian' city, since the two historical parts of the city are the European and Asian sides. But I don't having a distinct label like that makes any difference. It's much more interesting to be a little bit of both!

Next we met with two professors from Istanbul Technical University who wanted to show us a few local designers in the city. Even if you aren't on the up and up with the design world, you probably know that right now 'craft' is a thing. A really big thing. This includes everything from the 'handmade', to 'traditional' methods, to 'natural' materials. I used a lot of quotation marks because when you are in grad school in a liberal arts programme you know that pretty much any adjective is shady as hell and has about a thousand different meanings in the right context, but you guys know what I mean. The places we looked at were small, independent workshops that made their products in the workshops we visited, and they were all very much a part of their community (as opposed to a large, evil corporation that spreads like a virus through your neighbourhood).

We went to three different workshops, including a glassblowing studio, a dimly lit and jagged-edge-filled metalworking shop of doom, and finally, a bağlama workshop. A bağlama is a traditional instrument kind of like a closed guitar/lute, and they were making everything from really old school plain wooden ones to mother of pearl, Elvis-looking types. Now, you guys know I was all over this place because plucked string wooden instruments are my jam. It was amazing to see them actually making the bağlama, and they had them in all stages around the workshop. I am always really jealous and impressed when I see people making things with their hands from scratch, especially something that requires lots of math and patience, both of which I lack. Lots of unfinished ones were lined up on the wall, and some were polished up and getting fitted for dials and strings and such. One of the owners of the workshop played us a little concert and showed us how they hook up the bağlama, which is mostly wooden, to an electric amp. There's even a video of his solo concert below! Sadly I don't remember his name, there was a lot of translating going on between him and our guide, and we were kind of running from workshop to workshop and some of them were tucked away in buildings without signs or anything. But never fear! I will track him down.

Hope I see you again soon, Istanbul!

New Cookbook + New Veg Life

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Fri, 17 Jul 2015 14:39:00 +0000

Although I adore cooking with my iPad and love getting recipes for free from food blogs, sometimes you just want a nice big cookbook to hold and flip through. My New Roots is one of my favorite whole foods blogs, but to be honest I had just been getting her recipes on feedly and hadn’t thought much of it. But when I saw her cookbook at the bookstore and flipped through it I thought dang, this girl gets it. I haven’t even made any recipes yet and I am in love with it. She included soaking times for beans and legumes, how to sprout them, and most importantly, most recipes don’t have nuts or dates in them. Praise the Lord! You have no idea how hard it is to eat (partly) vegetarian and gluten-free when you are allergic to all the good stuff!

I am so excited to use this and have no idea what to make first. Tempeh Mushroom Breakfast Bowl? Caramelised Fennel on Herbed Polenta? Raw Cashew Cheese?? There are so many good recipes in here, and a lot of them use things I already have in the pantry, which is always a good sign. Some of the cookbooks I looked at (cough OTTOLENGHI cough) had ingredient lists with 20 to 30 items! What! Who do you think you are, and also who do you think I am?! If you think I am running all over town to get 1/8 teaspoon of some really random crap for one recipe, you are sorely mistaken, sir. I can maybe see doing that in London, where you can more or less walk to most of the places you want to go if you are lucky enough to live centrally, but more than two stores for food in a day can get old very quickly if they aren't close together. If I am fortunate enough to live anywhere near London Fields, there is a perfect little organic food shop in Broadway Market that I went to once and almost fainted. The veg was so beautiful and they stocked all my favorite organic brands, even though the store was tiny. I've had my eye on it and will definitely return once I get settled into my new place, which I have decided not to think about too much because I will drive myself insane pre-planning a flat I don't even have yet! Argh! Anyway, I will have a kitchen again, and my life will be wonderful.

Hopefully soon I can report back on the recipes I try! Until then, go forth and absorb the perfection that is Sarah's blog. And behold my crazy new blender!

In addition to my new cookbook purchase and new lease on a very veggie life, I got a Ninja blender to replace my old one, which was starting to get that burning plastic smell every time I used it. Not ideal. This new guy had a bit of a learning curve but it’s doing a great job so far, and until the day I am ready to settle down and spend a few bucks on a (probably used) Vitamix, this baby will do the trick. I made a blueberry, apple, collard green, and chia seed smoothie in there the other day, and although it turned out a bit crunchy, I think I am getting the hang of it. The key here is to freeze your veg. FREEZE YOUR VEG.

Somewhere in the dark depths of the over-the-fridge cabinet lurks my juicer, which works very well and will obliterate any type of veg in seconds. Sadly though, it is a pain to get out and especially to clean, so I think I may try to use the blender as a juicer instead. You have to use a strainer of course, but it's a lot less hardware and less counter space. I don't know about you guys, but I simply refuse to be a person that leaves out small appliances on the countertops. Their home is in a cabinet where I can forget about them. So if they are too big and bulky to get out every day, away they go. Sorry, juicer.

The great thing about this new blender is that it doesn't have that weird bottom crevasse of no return where all your food gets stuck. Instead there are three tiers of blades ready to destroy you. So far it crushes ice pretty well and if I weren't on a diet I would make a thick, heart-stopping milkshake. But alas, dairy (and mountains of sugar) is one of the things I have to take a step back from. Also, the pitcher is plastic instead of glass, so it's much lighter and won't get all slippery with condensation and make you almost drop it in your sink every time you rinse it out. Hundreds of batches of cashew cream are on the horizon, as well as frozen Bloody Mary's now that I bought some pickled okra. Huzzah!

Time will tell whether I am to be trusted with something completely able to slice open my hand, but so far I have been pretty careful/lucky. Slow movements are key.

Right now I am officially back in Louisiana for two glorious months of summer vacation and am enjoying every minute of it. When I moved to London I pretty much abandoned my healthy eating habits but didn't gain weight until right at the end, when I was funnelling beer, Doritos, meat pies, and 3-piece Reese's down my gullet with abandon. Now that I have all this wonderful Louisiana summer produce around and my own kitchen, I am so excited to start eating healthy again! I'm also trying to lose a few pounds but that's secondary to all the delicious treats I'm going to make. The BMI scale (which we all know is a villainous liar) says that for my height I should be 135 pounds or something ridiculous like that. If I were ever that light I would probably look like a shaved bear. Google that and prepare to be seriously terrified. My body is definitely built to be reckoned with but it would definitely benefit me to lose some of this extra fluff. To have something to do and to get strong again, I started back up doing yoga and running, and I think I may also invest in a spin bike! It burns a TON of calories and isn't as hard on my joints as running. But that thing will tear you UP. All I need is a new playlist, and you know that thing will be nothing but Usher, Lil Wayne, A$AP Rocky, and Nicki Minaj. I AM READY.

Blenheim Palace

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Tue, 30 Jun 2015 07:26:00 +0000

I finally realised a life dream of mine: to go creep on a huge English country house! I went to Blenheim Palace, owned by the Duke of Marlborough and the family home of Sir Winston Churchill. They were not short on swans.

Back at the beginning of the eighteenth century (yay) some dude named John Churchill won a huge military battle in the War of the Spanish Succession and cause he was bros with the king, the king and queen gave him the title Duke of Marlborough and as a present they had a ridiculously huge house built for him. I think this is pretty cool of King Charles II because before John was a duke, he totally got caught banging the king's favorite mistress but the king was cool with it. But apparently Churchill was a stone cold fox and you know Charles had like 100 mistresses so whatever.

When you first rock up to this place you think daaaaaaaaamn BBC period pieces did NOT lie. And then you think hold up, how come one family gets to own what is essentially a national park? And a river? This house is RIDICULOUS? WHY ISN'T SOMEBODY ON THIS? REVOLUTION!!!

But it's all good because the front part is actually a public park, and the family only lives in part of the (still freaking huge) house. The 'park' behind the house is seriously national park material, and you can go hang around there for free if you want. Just nothing but rolling hills and trees and things as far as you can see.

I went into the house bit and after a behind-the-scenes tour of how the house was built and about the lives of some of the dukes, I decided to skip the rest of the house and go explore more of the foresty parts. It was too gorgeous outside to look at State Rooms all day, but you KNOW I'll be sneaking around Castle Howard and Highclere Castle whenever I get the chance.

I didn't get to go to the back part which is Blenheim Park (I ended up walking 12 miles that day, most of which was me getting lost on the FRONT YARD of the house...dang y'all) but I did walk along the river on the side of the house and made friends with a duck and four swans. Two of the swans followed me all the way down the river, and I really wanted to jump in there and go for a swim but I was pretty sure I'd get called out by some of the other tourists or pecked to death by the swans. I don't know if you know this, but swans are HUGE and really mean and all the swans in the UK somehow belong to the queen so if you mess with one it's illegal. But why would you anyway because I'm pretty sure the swans would not think twice about putting you DOWN.

In conclusion, giant British houses are FOR REAL and now you can go walk around on their grass defiantly. But only if they let you.

Eastbourne & Beachy Head Hiking

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 01 Jun 2015 11:21:00 +0000

Hello you gorgeous people! I've been away for a while but I have returned with a vengeance. A few months ago my friend and I decided we had thoroughly deserved a break from London city life and escaped to the sea! Click through for gorgeous panoramas and tons of backlighting.

We began our adventure by hopping on a train to Eastbourne and I must say, I don't think I will ever get over the wonder that is the National Rail. Trains are my favorite thing because you don't have to stop to get gas or worry about careening into oncoming traffic and dying in a spectacular explosion.

Anyway, Eastbourne is the town which is near-ish to Beachy Head, an important military position in the world wars for signalling/patrolling the coastline. There were lots of memorials for the Royal Air Force and Navy, and you could see why it was such a good place to look out for ships and aircraft; you could see EVERYTHING for miles. It's actually kind of scary because you realise how tiny you are and how huge the world is, even the Channel seemed like an ocean from up there. And to get there you have to climb a terrifyingly steep mountain of death. But first, a nice seaside walk complete with leafy paths and benches!

When we got to Eastbourne we meandered toward the beach, which was gorgeous and very splashy but it was April and thus still windy and kind of cold. We ended up walking along the beach for a long time, finding lots of cute beach cabins and nice beach views along the way. After we were basically out of the town, we noticed everything was getting hilly, and we started our trek up to the cliff part. But first we had to go up this very Mordor staircase.

There were lots of trails leading up to the cliffs (similar to the white cliffs of Dover but we were further south) and we took a nice break on the side of the hills when the sun came out. Sadly there was no food but I had a picnic blankie and lots of time to kill.

Then we came to some seriously slope-y cliff sides and thought, well, we might as well hike up these bad boys along the steepest side possible. SO WE DID. There was a lot of yelling and partial dying as we walked up what was essentially a 45 degree angle of grassy cliff, but then when we got to the top a bunch of totally not-out-of-breath tourists were looking at us funny because they took the bus up the cliff like normal humans. But not hardcore ones who will soon have muscular structures to be reckoned with.

Once we got up to the top it was windy. Thankfully the wind was blowing us toward land and not over the edge to a watery death, so I got some good shots of the water below by leaning over the edge in a very secure lunge stance. It was GORGEOUS up there. Being in London all the time made me forget that I am on a different side of the Atlantic than I usually am! And on an island?? Still getting used to these things. But it was wonderful to get out the city and see some of the world, you know? Some geography and water, which I was sorely missing.

And finally, after all that adventuring you need to take an explorer pose shot on top of the cliff! HUZZAH !

Solo Winter Trip to Paris

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 23 Feb 2015 10:00:00 +0000

Paris! WHY ARE YOU SO HUGE? I was in Paris last week for two days and I had forgotten that you really need an entourage to carry you on a litter unless you want destroyed feet, which I have. But even though everything is large and far apart, you can't fault Parisians for putting gold wherever gold would go. Click through for great big buildings and plenty of gold leaf!

The Louvre! Note the brave little cleaning robot on the pyramid.

I was only in Paris for two days so I decided to just wander about and see where I ended up. I did want to go to the Louvre and the Musée d'Orsay (but the line was crazy) but otherwise I was just happy to drift. Tuesdays are a great day to go wander around the Tuileries and outside the Louvre because its closed, and there are far fewer touring families to get in the way of your exterior shots. Even though the weather was terrible it was nice to just poke around the Seine for two days. Also, I figured out where all the good shopping is, so you KNOW I will be back to buy all the things.

More Louvre!

Only the bravest can fight their way to the Mona Lisa.

It is totally worth it to stand in line for two hours in the cold to see Napoleon coronating himself in Cinemascope.

The only thing that Paris has that really shames London for me is the Metro. Double decker buses are awesome but double decker trains are incredible. The Metro stations have vending machines and you don't feel nearly as murderous when you're underground because the platforms are nice and roomy. Also, Paris has more Octopi per station.

I have to confess that I soon as I got on the Eurostar I missed London. London feels tiny in comparison but it is still perfect. The Tube might be tiny and crowded and infuriating but it's OUR tube, dammit. There are afternoon teas by the hundreds, horse-drawn carriages with real royal people inside (I saw one in Knightsbridge), dark cosy pubs with overstuffed furnishings, and food markets so life-changing you cannot comprehend it.

But of course I'll be coming back to Paris to do dissertation research and to look at a thousand more paintings, sculptures, objects d'art, and ENORMOUS estates. Fontainebleau, this means you!

Bath Christmas Market

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Tue, 06 Jan 2015 10:00:00 +0000

So you guys are about to get hit with a double whammy of Christmas AND New Year's blog posts because for Christmas break I went home and laid in my bed and did less than nothing. And it was awesome.

First off, the very Christmas-y, incredibly British, and slighty Roman Bath Christmas Market! Click through for cathedral close-ups and stony Regency streets.

Shortly before I went home for Christmas my residence hall organised a trip to Bath, which has the oldest Christmas market in the UK. It's mostly around Bath Abbey, which made everything feel very medieval. Except sadly no one was wearing robes.

This place is super old. It it full of Roman stuff because there's a thermal mineral spring there, and you know Romans love to float around in baths whenever possible. You CANNOT be more Roman than being a spa town, alright? ALRIGHT?

Anyway, at some point the Georgians started going to Bath to 'take the waters' which means drink the delicious mineral water which was supposed to be really healthy (but I think it was just an excuse to go lay about on the other side of the country from London for the really fancy). Now the water is really suspicious looking and you aren't allowed to touch it, except for the few rebels who left some coins at the bottom.

ON TO ROMAN THINGS:

Yeah you don't want to drink or sit in that.

A little stream coming in from...somewhere.

Can you see the steamy steam rising?

Ah, the Romans. They had that whole work-life balance thing down (especially if they were aristocrats because the only balance they had to worry about was making sure they didn't lean over the side of their litter). I mean sometimes you just gotta float around in some hot water until you are medium rare.

The bath complex had all kinds of cool underground places and dark rooms of ruins, including a 'massage room' (heh) and 'changing rooms' and probably a room where'd they dry you off as well so you could just lay there like a starfish.

And then there were Christmas market things EVERYWHERE.

Spiced dried fruit hanging garlands!

CHRISTMAS TREE HATS

*Keira Knightley voice* IT'S CAROL SINGERS

Did I not say there would be Regency streets?!

I didn't end up buying anything really, but I did get the most delicious chicken and leek pie from a place called The Humble Pie Co. (tip: ir may or may not have cured coach-induced hangover sickness). My friends bought tons of hand-knitted wool socks/gloves/sweaters and I came THIS close to buying that Christmas tree hat. But how often could you wear it? I guess from Thanksgiving to Christmas but there's no Thanksgiving in the UK so maybe I could bump it up to after Halloween.

Anyway, it's always nice to get out of London just for a day (and breathe some non-sooty air) and see the rest of England. Next time I'll actually bring a bathing suit and got to the new spa sans the yellow-green water. Maybe next year I'll zip over to Germany; I heard the Christmas markets are crazy there. And there are mountains and forests to look at. You cannot lose here.

Lastly, a rare picture of me! Looking like a puffed up bird cause it was cold.

There is one piece of hair sticking out and it's going to bother me forever.

I hope everyone had a GREAT Christmas and that your New Year's salads and gym memberships are tasting and feeling good! Next up, Things I Need To Do Because I'm a For Real Adult In Graduate School And My Life Is a Mess aka NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS!

❤

We Found the Loch Ness Monster

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 17 Nov 2014 10:00:00 +0000

After a singularly tiring and crazy week of cross-college projects, my friend and I decided to escape to Scotland for the weekend to see the Aurora Borealis. Sadly we missed the northern lights but we did eat a ridiculous amount of haggis, had the best American-style breakfast of my life (in Scotland), and hiked up a ridge overlooking Loch Ness where we later saw NESSIE. That's right. We saw her.

Just look at that picture up there. Straight out of a landscape gallery.

Scotland is just as incredible as it looked in Skyfall. It may have been missing an Astin Martin and a huge partly-abandoned mystery house, but there were at least two castles, a neighbourhood rabbit, and a slightly scary night of waiting for a bus in the middle of nowhere. Inverness was the cutest town ever, and even though it kind of dashed our hopes for a London-free weekend (there was a huge Marks & Spencer and Accessorise and Lush and yeah), it did have at least four beautiful old churches, a cozy bookstore with a REAL fireplace (avec fire), and a really wobbly footbridge that moved a little too much when you sprinted across it out of fear.

On Sunday we went down to Drumnadrochit, a small town on the edge of Loch Ness. My friend and I found a windy path up a mountain/ridge thing, and we took the Red Trail because we decided to live dangerously that day. Dangerous because of the rain mostly; it was a miracle that we didn't slip and plunge into one of hundreds of mud puddles all over the place.

We finally got to the top (double points if you can spot my friend in her hiding place) and it was straight out of a BBC miniseries trip-to-the-countryside scene. And if it weren't scenic enough a flipping rainbow came out of nowhere and graced the valley with its 30% opacity.

After managing to slide down this Middle-Earth-looking mountain, we decided to go down to Uruquart Castle. Unfortunately we took a wrong turn and ended up at a stream we couldn't cross, but it was very picturesque and we could at least hobble out onto some stones and listen to the stream make nature sounds.

AND THEN. We spotted her. NESSIE!!!

She was even bobbing in the water as if to say "HAY". If we had been wearing waders we could have slid on over and asked for a ride on her back, but alas. We had on jeans and running leggings.

Even though my soul-crushing love for London knows no bounds, it was nice to get out of the city for a few days and breath in some fresh country air. Even though it wasn't very Christmas-y yet, I bet it's amazing to spend Christmas there, although after mid-November you probably wouldn't want to go outside. But then there's more time to fatten yourself on Christmas treats whilst covered in blanket scarves in front of the fire. Did I mention that there are scores of Christmas baked goods here that I am unfamiliar with but have to try? There's mincemeat which has fruit not meat, and I had a really soft cookie with raisins and all kinds of spices in it and I am dedicating my foreseeable future to tracking down their name/manufacturer so I can buy ten thousand boxes and eat them until Mardi Gras.

So now the next post HAS to be a Christmas-y London post. SO BE IT.

First World War Centenary: Ypres Battlefield Tour

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Tue, 11 Nov 2014 17:48:00 +0000

Today is Remebrance Day in Britain (Veterans Day in the U.S.), and this year marks the centenary of the First World War. When Americans think of "The Great War," we vaguely remember something about mustard gas, tanks, and No Man's Land. But you don't really understand what a total war is until you see the 100-foot diameter crater a land mine left in a small town in Belgium.

Obviously this post will be a pretty serious so if you're already in a bad mood, maybe go watch something happy instead.

My residence hall led a trip to Ypres, Belgium a few weeks ago to commemorate the centenary of the Great War. Ypres is a small farming town that is internationally famous for having been so bombarded by shells and bombs during the War that in 1918 aerial photos of the area resembled the surface of the moon. Ypres was absolutely covered in craters and rubble. Our tour guide, who lives and works in Ypres as a historian/archaeologist, took us around to memorials, cemeteries, battlegrounds, and finally a memorial ceremony that has happened every night since 1927 (except during the Second World War).

Old town wall of Ypres (including moat)

Menin Gate, where the memorial ceremony takes place every night

Firstly, Ypres is beautiful. Except for all the cemetaries/memorials/museums for the War, you would think this place had probably last seen war in the Middle Ages. Ypres is about 80% farms; I've never seen so many cows in my life. Big, fat dairy cows with decidedly different spot patterns than Louisiana cows. Anyway, the entire town had to be rebuilt from scratch after 1918, so everything looks new. Not as new as Dresden, but Ypres was bombed even more than Dresden, if you can imagine that. Even more as in, pretty much continually for three years. Sometimes the Second World War seems pretty big and bad as far as firepower, but you have to remember that before the First World War people fought wars on horseback with bayonets, not machine guns, poisonous gas, land mines, and tanks. And when there's new warfare technology, armies tend to agree that "more is more."

Even though Ypres is super picturesque, it was covered in cemeteries for the Allies. We drove down several roads past countless farms and I counted at least ten cemeteries for the Great War. It was amazing to see how well kept the memorials were; the headstones looked brand new and the grass looked like it was cut by hand with a magnifying glass. I thought it was nice that they take such good care of these places, but it was also incredibly scary that the graves looked like they had only been there a few years, not a hundred. When wars are hundred years behind you, you think they are gone forever. But when they are (or seem) recent, they haunt you.

Our guide took us to a small field that looked like something off a tub of Country Crock butter. We then winded through a quaint-looking path through a little forest, after he had pointed out several old stone bunkers dug into the ground. I can't imagine having to stay in of these for more than a night; I would absolutely lose my mind.

Then we came to a clearing and what looked like a lake. But it wasn't a lake. It was a CRATER from a land mine exploded in 1918. The Allies had tunneled under the German trenches for years and placed hundreds of bombs behind German lines, and this crater was just ONE of the holes left behind. Believe me when I say your brain cannot understand the amount of explosives involved, the sound it must have made, or the way the ground must have shook when they were detonated.

London has been holding all kinds of events for the centenary this week. A friend of mine in my program is from Flanders, and she mentioned that people in Britain make a bigger deal about Remembrance Day than they do in Belgium, where you can still see the trenches. I can imagine that there's a different attitude about holding memorial ceremonies when the place where they died is only a few mile away, or in your backyard.

Visiting Ypres was absolutely terrifying. I was really glad that I went though, because now that I'm studying the history of physical objects I've really started to appreciate history you can see in person, not just read in a book. You can watch as many World War I movies and read Parade's End until the end of time, but standing at the edge of a mine crater really takes the romance out of war. And war isn't even the right word. I won't even tell you what our tour guide said some of the poison gases would do to you. Don't wikipedia it. Just trust me that we need to REALLY learn the lesson that humans have the potential to do truly horrible things. And they have done it. And they will do it again.

And now I will go crawl in my bed and hide under some blankets for a while. Don't worry though, my next post will be extremely happy. ❤

My First Month in London

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 29 Sep 2014 22:16:00 +0000

LONDON. What is there really to say? It's big and beautiful and full of languages and cute little parks and well-dressed people and Target dogs. London is so fancy I feel like I should have a monocle on at all times. I honestly feel weird walking from Westminster to Trafalgar Square not on horseback (the Horse Guards are pressuring me). I feel really overwhelmed because there are so many things going on I feel like I'm missing out on LIFE even though I haven't sat down for three weeks! Including when I stood for 3.5 hours to see a play with a REALLY FAMOUS PERSON that is maybe not as famous as you would expect but definitely one of those people on my little creeping list.

CLICK THROUGH FOR THEATRE WITH AN "RE":

WHAAAAAAT! I saw Arthur Miller's The Crucible starring...wait for it...RICHARD ARMITAGE. If you haven't seen North and South (the BBC miniseries, not the American Civil War one), get thee to Netflix. Story time: My friend and I were on our way to the Imperial War Museum and I saw a giant poster for The Crucible (which I thought had closed already), so naturally we had to queue for an hour and a half to get return tickets. They were coming back with £45 and £90 tickets but I'm sorry, Richard, I need money to eat as well as creep. But THEN. The lady came out and offered us two TEN pound tickets and we jumped on them. Even though we were so high up we could touch the ceiling, the theatre (fancy -re) was small and round so we could see almost everything. Every single actor was amazing and I still can't believe I saw it for so cheap! That play CHANGED me.

Otherwise, I've been on a non-stop schedule of touristy outings and shopping trips. Here's what I've been up to for the past few weeks:

Saw a group of 1920's themed party goers on the tube and was insanely jealous
Found an Onitsuka Tiger store and bought some new kicks
Bought the most perfect pair of brown leather boots that was ever made
Went to the Imperial War Museum and saw a V-2 rocket and the first video from space
Traveled to Ypres in Belgium for a WWI battlefield tour. There's going to be a whole post on this soon; in a nutshell, European soil is littered with unexploded land mines and bombs!
Saw Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies, a two-part play about Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn
Paid £10 for a glass of wine at a pub and wanted to cry
Got a bank account and a UK phone so I feel extremely London-y and justified in pushing past people on the tube escalator. grocery store, etc.
Ran to the Tate Modern to catch a lecture, missed it, then ate at Wagamama on the Thames with a view of St. Paul's
Floated down the Thames with my RCA buddies from Big Ben to the Tower of London
Had afternoon tea in a secret tea room you access from a tight windy staircase
Went to about 500 residence hall events, met tons of people embarrassingly more interesting than myself (yay)

Secret tea flowers in a very secret pot.

Tower Bridge, a super cool tour guide, and indecisive weather.

Living here is definitely a step up from living in the country, at least from a convenience standpoint. Every day there are new things I find out about and feel more and more like I've been living in the Dark Ages. Here are some things I have discovered recently that have changed my life:

LUSH Cosmetics. Holy crap. I've been in a Lush store before but just got samples and forgot about this place, which is actually based in the UK. The store smells like heaven and I got the silkiest, creamiest lotion you ever swiped across your arms. I also got some loose dry shampoo (the best invention in the history of civilization), hair wax, toothpaste tabs, and some conditioner. There were lots of free samples involved.
City Planner app. How did I ever exist one minute in London without this thing?! City Planner shows you all the ways to get where you're going, the time it will take, when you should leave to arrive on time, and even a rain-safe route. And now that I finally have a phone plan with data, I can use it when I'm a lost goose in Kensington.
Smoked mackerel. The dining hall has this every morning for breakfast and I don't care about all the oil it's cooked in. It's obscenely delicious.
Duvet cover pockets. Duvet covers here have an extra slit at the top corner of the fabric so you can pull up the duvet insert when it falls toward the bottom. ALL THE WASTED YEARS I SPENT WITH UNEVEN DUVET FLUFF.
The Londonist. This site has an e-mailing list that tells you what's going on the next day in London, how much it costs, and if you have to book in advance. It can be overwhelming because you want to do ALL THE THINGS.
Japan Centre. A whole store of just Japanese treats. Expensive but worth every SINGLE pence just for the udon soup you can make with some hot water from your kettle.

Japan Centre goodies!

Sigh. I love this city so much already.

If I haven't spent all my money in a week, and if I don't get buried under coursework, I'll post more adventures soon! Until then check out my Instagram to see what I'm up to!

HMS Victory

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 15 Sep 2014 21:36:00 +0000

I...have finally seen...the HMS Victory. If you don't know what that is, it's pretty much the most important thing that's every happened to me in my life. Studying history can be really boring if you spend all your time reading and not enough time seeking out cool things in museums and Historic Dockyards. The nice thing about the Victory is that you can actually touch a ship because the ship is the museum. IS THIS REAL LIFE?

P.S. If you're wondering why it looks kind of funny, they took down part of the masts to do some major repairs on the whole ship. Giant wooden ships built in the 1700's tend to settle into all kinds of weird shapes so...they're looking at that.

When I was in seventh grade my dad introduced me to the Horatio Hornblower series on A&E, which was/is nothing short of amazing. After that I was obsessed with the Age of Sail, especially anything happening from the French Revolution to the Napoleonic Wars. Watching Hornblower, which is fully of dudes in fancy hats yelling "FIYAAH" and shooting cannons, was kind of like watching a really hardcore verison of Star Trek. There is no food replicator, only salt pork and dried peas. You didn't just aimlessly wander around the halls and randomly touch panels on the wall, you had to climb up rope rigging in the middle of a sea storm and haul up a giant canvas sail or die. And there was no touchy-feely Federation sending starships on science missions, there was only Bonaparte. And you had to destroy him.

So what's this ship for then? It's incredibly famous because it was the flagship of Admiral Horatio Nelson, who is one of Britain's most famous war heroes. Nelson died in the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805, which was a huge "eff you" from England to Napoleon. Basically, Napoleon wanted to invade England because he was an egomaniacal greedy bastard (this is serious history scholarship going on now) and England had lots of money and stuff. Eventually he abandoned this plan cause England had a ridiculously awesome navy and the French/Spanish ones were bleh, but after Admiral Nelson's fleet literally destroyed the major French and Spanish fleet in the Mediterranean, everyone in England was like ENGLAND 1 NAPOLEON 0.

I read Napoleon Bonaparte by Alan Schom and what happened was this:

Napoleon: let's build a fleet of flimsy little barges to invade England with!
Advisors: wut
Napoleon: WE'RE GONNA INVADE ENGLAND WITH WEIRD BOATS
Advisors: that's a terrible plan
Napoleon: I'M EMPEROR AND I WANT IT
Advisors: omg calm down crazy, we'll build your stupid boats
Boats: *le capsize*
Napoleon: Crap!

Also, Admiral Villeneuve (one of whose direct descendants is a friend of mine...HEH) was terrified of actually doing his job and was hiding out in the Caribbean instead of doing Napoleon stuff, but Nelson followed him all the way there and back to Europe. Villeneuve had avoided all Napoleon's orders and was doing a victory lap back to France but DUN DUN DUNNN Nelson was waiting for them when they turned around off the coast of Spain, and he was like OH HEY VILLENEUVE I was thinking I would DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE FLEET WITHOUT LOSING A SINGLE SHIP. Nelson was shot down by snipers in the middle of the battle and got a crazy state funeral back in England and everyone was super sad, meanwhile Villeneuve slunk back to France but had to leave cause people wanted to lynch him. So he went to America and had a bunch of really cool descendants who I party with occasionally.

LET'S SEE THE SHIP.

I just remembered that scene in Star Trek: Generations when the TNG crew was on a frigate or something on the holodeck (pretending to be in the 19th century cause apparently they don't have any real duties...we all know Starfleet just parties on their ships 24/7). Picard says something about how freeing it would be to work on a sailing ship and just use the stars to navigate and Riker was like...sir maybe you should sit down, you're confused.

The ticket I bought for the Historic Dockyards is actually good for two more ships, some museums and a harbor tour, but I just wanted to check the place out. My ticket is also good for a year, so I'll definitely be back at some point, maybe when the sun isn't blazing in my face and screwing with my pictures. I didn't get to leave my paw prints on as many things as I would have liked; the stairs are incredibly steep and and you need to hold onto the railings with both hands. Also you spend most of your time ducking under beams an inch from your head and squinting in the semi-darkness.

But all of that made it feel really authentic like I was REALLY THERE except it was missing the one thing that would have made it real...the boat was not moving. Thank GOD it wasn't moving. I may love the idea of big ships but I get horrible motion sickness so would unfortunately not make it to the gun decks to scream FIYAAH. I would instead be screaming for them to please MAKE THE BOAT STOP ROCKING PLEASE. It's a real shame...I really want one of those pointy fore-and-aft hats.

Minimalist London Moving List

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Mon, 08 Sep 2014 19:07:00 +0000

I did it!!! I moved to London and it is 1000 times more amazing than you can imagine. It is entirely possible that I cried like a huge nerd when I took a bus over the Thames and saw the Eye and Big Ben. Right now I'm getting settled, shaking off the jet lag and doing some exploring so I'll have plenty of London photos to share! But for now I wanted to show you guys what I ended up packing for the trip; you know I've been laying awake all night for six months wondering what would make it into my suitcase.

Since I've lost forty pounds (woooooooooo) I have been able to get a whole new wardrobe, and I decided to stick with neutrals and get things that will last a long time. There's nothing worse than bringing home an awesome new shirt that is somehow already falling apart. Anyway, I thought I would go with a very London color palette so I could blend in with the endless cloud cover. For actual color I have several scarves, some badass electric blue shoes, and plenty of makeup!

Here's the list of pretty much everything I brought with me:

4 jeans
2 leggings
4 shirts
5 tees
4 camis
2 running shirts
2 running leggings
1 running jacket
4 nightgowns
1 robe
1 blazer
5 sweaters
1 raincoat
1 winter coat
4 scarves
1 pair gloves
1 cocktail dress
Tons of underwear

1 pair sneaks
1 pair mocassins
1 pair short boots
2 pairs flats
1 pair running shoes

Shampoo
Face scrub
Moisturizer
Razors
Hairspray
Toothbrush
Toothpaste
Nail brush
Tweezers
Band-Aids
Soap

2 foundations
1 powder
1 blush palette
1 bronzer
1 blush
1 concealer
10 brushes
10 lipsticks
3 eyeshadow palettes
1 liquid highlighter
1 brow pencil
1 brow comb
6 lip liners
5 lip glosses
3 mascaras
2 false lashes

Macbook Pro
iPad Mini
Leuchtturm notebook
London pocket guide
4 protein bars
2 books
Nintendo 3DS
Travel wallet
Whale pen
Passport
Monay
Camera
Neck Pillow
Planner
Filter water bottle

Whew! That's everything. So far I've bought a few things (kettle, bento box, rabbit-shaped night light), but I love only having what I need. Everything is easy to locate and access. No more climbing a step ladder to try to pull down a gigantic plastic tub full of backpacks. Hopefully I won't accumulate too much junk; for the next year (and hopefully for the rest of my life), I want to try to only acquire really awesome things that are well made and well designed. If I have to go without an item until I find the perfect one, so be it! My dorm room and future flats will be the more beautiful for the effort.

Stay tuned for London adventures!!

Only One Week Left!

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Thu, 28 Aug 2014 15:31:00 +0000

Guess what happens less than one week from today?
Next Wednesday I will get on a plane, float blissfully over the Atlantic, and land softly at London Heathrow like a dove. There may have been some not-ready-for-school nightmares and a few episodes of sheer panic, but I am so so excited to finally be moving to the city of my dreams. I've got a new camera and a fancy new North Face coat with a perfect breast pocket just the right size for your Oyster card. The second week of school we're going on a field trip (!!!) to northern England and we were warned to bring warm, waterproof clothes so as not to be completely miserable. This means I'm gonna roll up to RCA looking more ready for adventure than they will be able to handle.

I've already gotten calendars of all the welcome events from RCA and my residence hall and there are not one but two boat trips on the river, tours of museums/galleries, walks in Hyde Park, and pub crawls. Why didn't I find out about this school sooner?! Everything sounds more than amazing. I'm glad that I'll finally have a really good excuse to use my Instax mini camera (and the horde of film I've been saving for a few years now) and my enormous England guide. It's really heavy so I'd rather not bring it if I could, but it's easily the best travel guide I've ever had so I might have to shift a few things around in my suitcase. I also have a tiny version of the London book (that I bought in the National Gallery gift shop because I was desperate for a map) that fits in your pocket. That way you can very covertly peek at it on the tube inside your bag if you are obnoxiously dedicated to not looking like a tourist like someone we all know.

Reading the guides makes me even more excited to eat in London again. Every person I have told about my school has begged me not to eat British food, but that won't be a problem because a) I don't really eat meat anymore, and b) there are so many cultures represented in London that you can eat around the world without leaving Zone 1. I am going to feast on Indian, Spanish, and Japanese food while I'm there. Luckily for me there is a huge Japanese grocery store in Picadilly Circus which I somehow missed the past three times I went to London. I love Japanese food SO MUCH, you guys. There's no culture whose food I haven't liked so far, but I am especially fond of rice-centric ones since I grew up eating etouffeé and steak rice and gravy. There is a restaurant in London called Abeno that serves okonomi-yaki (Japanese savory pancake) and it's the most ridiculously delicious thing you'll ever eat. In addition to mixing up meat and vegetable into your little cake, they can even add fried soba noodles right in there. Fried. Noodles. Abeno has a second location in Chinatown, and I saw these two girls order some kind of house special okonomi-yaki, and the chef just kept making layers upon layers of this thing, until there were about three layers of meat-filled pancake, grilled vegetables in between, and a fried egg on top. I have a new goal in life.

OBSERVE:

A potato pancake with fried noodles and pork/beef on top. Actually, it's in the middle. There's more!

A second pancake on top! THIS IS A NOODLE-FILLED PANCAKE.

Ta-da! Finished okonomi-yaki with mayo, nori seasoning and bonito flakes. Eat this...slowly.

Ohhh, London. My whole life I've read about how amazing London is (especially for a museum/history nerd like me) and I have salivated over the idea of living there since I was five. When I went to Europe for the first time in 2010 with LSU, we went to Paris, Prague, Dresden, Vienna, Budapest, Split, Hvar, and finally London. Even though the trip was amazing, at the end of a month zigzaging across Europe I was tired and cranky. And I thought to myself, you know, if London isn't the greatest freaking place I ever visited when I get there, I will be absolutely murderous. BUT IT WAS UNBELIEVABLE. You know how you just get a vibe from a city when you're on the streets or talking to people? And you just think, yeah. London was not just yeah, it was awww hell yeah. It was just so clean and happy looking everywhere, even the dirty parts! And there were huge (and small) parks everywhere, and tons of buses and non-sketchy cabs and thousands of people squooshed into Picadilly Circus and I just thought yes yes YES. This was especially the case when I went in May; there were bachelorette (hen) parties crammed into the tube cars, a double-decker party bus tearing up Regent Street, and just LOTS OF PEOPLE. It's been too long since I've been around lots of people and I am ready.

There's really no question that I will love my new life, but I'm sure I'll miss home pretty quick. Even though most of the time I don't feel like I fit in in Louisiana, I will definitely miss how friendly people are here. You make best friends at the grocery store looking at lettuce, and if you buy something interesting everyone in the checkout lane will ask what you're planning to make with that. I love that (most) Cajun people have a great sense of humor, love to party, and have a really positive outlook on life. It's easy to be that happy when good boudin rains from the skies and you can buy liquor at the grocery store at 3 AM on a Sunday. On the other hand, sometimes when you are running errands all over a big city you just do not want to chat with an over-sharing cashier.

But to be honest I'll be too busy crying tears of joy to be crying about anything else. I'll be living, living, LIVING, in London. ❤

New bags for London and blog news!

noreply@blogger.com (Eve) — Thu, 07 Aug 2014 00:51:00 +0000

Hello! Check out my new blog! It's so CLEAN. The one I had before was very tiny and hard to read even for me, so I decided to upgrade. You can also email me now at evelovesthings@gmail.com, and follow me on Bloglovin! Bloglovin is a site that lets you follow and discover blogs and read them in a feed (and it's photo-based so your eyes will rejoice)!

In other news, guess what I just bought?!

In the most shocking news you ever heard, I went out last weekend and bought MORE BAGS! My poor little Fox one was starting to come apart at the seams, and was actually pretty flimsy and not ideal for stashing my $1500 laptop. BUT THIS THING. It's the Recon backpack from North Face and it's unreal. I've been trying to buy well made bags that will last a long time, and this one will probably outlive me. There's a laptop, iPad, and iPhone pocket, hip and chest straps so all the weight isn't on your shoulders, and plenty of room to stash your brand new inflatable neck pillow.

Just LOOK at the color of the straps. PINK.* This bag was made for me. I shall call you Christopher.

*I actually edited the crap out of these pictures because the straps were showing up orange when in real life they are more red/hot pink. Some kind of in between color nonsense, I dunno.

I have a really nice L.L. Bean luggage set, but unfortunately the garment bag and large suitcase are so big that I really wouldn't be able to wrangle either of them by myself. The large regular suitcase is crazy heavy, and Heathrow has these turnstile things on the way to the London-bound trains that keep you from bringing obnoxiously large bags, and I can just see myself trying to squeeze through those things and trying to lift it up onto the train...no. No sir.

I had been eyeing duffel bags for a while, and right after I got my Recon bag I spotted these Gregory duffels. This one is perfect because it has shoulder straps, so I can ferret through the turnstiles without hurting myself. I've already packed up almost all my stuff and I can carry it around without sinking to the floor or tipping over. And it rolls up and can be stuffed into a mesh bag 9 x 6 x 4 inches. Who thinks of these things?!

Other than waiting on some clothing items to come in the mail, I am ready to go. Right now. This instant. I even bought a travel perfume atomizer to put my Burberry London perfume in so let's GO RIGHT NOW! AAAHHHH!