Anxiously Engaged

Well, you could say this past weekend has been pretty monumental. Here's where it all began... 

For Roland's birthday last month I "surprised" him with a plane ticket to Italy. We arranged to go to Pisa and Florence for the weekend, and off we went.

At the beginning of the trip Roland asked me to try to be in a good mood that weekend, which may sound rude, but trust me, it was warranted. I am the world's worst travel companion... because hangriness. It's a real thing. All I want to do when I travel is eat, sleep, and spend all of my money. SO you can imagine that it takes great preparation and optimism on the other traveler's part to manage to enjoy their own vacation.

Well, I will have you all know that I was the most angelic travel companion on the first day. We arrive in Pisa bright and early that morning to beautiful skies and vibrantly colored Italian buildings. It took us some time and a little bickering to find the Leaning Tower, but finally we made it to that hallowed tourist spot where Galileo didn't actually drop anything.

Our tourist game was fierce that day. 

As we were enjoying Pisa there arose a magnificent storm out of nowhere. For a solid hour it poured and thundered and lighteninged, but luckily we were shelter under a little pizzeria eating delicious Italian pizza IRL. The rain was relentless, but luckily we made it to a train, our journey a little delayed, and safely on our way to Florence.

The train ride was absolutely breathtaking. Every image I had ever built of the Italian countryside in my mind was real. The sun shone brightly again upon beautiful little gardens, sunflowers, fields, green hills, and luscious trees. This glorious hour and a half would have been perfection if not for the doobie-smoking hooligans that hopped on the train halfway through the trip and blasted their crappy music for all disgruntled train riders to hear. It was literally the most Italian-magic-ruining thing ever, but it all made for an authentic experience. 

When we arrived in Florence the first order of business was to grab a second serving of gelato. The city wasn't even real--not at all. There was just no way. What I love about going to these European cities is that nothing seems to have changed for hundreds of years. Buildings that were perhaps once convents become apartments, but they never really lose their original facade. 

Later in the afternoon we treked all the way up to Piazzale Michelangelo and saw the most gorgeous view of the city. Everything felt so quintessentially Italian that I very well might have been living in a dream. 

Photo tour!

David just babin'

Roland also babin'

And pervin' ...

Well, by the time we had hiked all around Pisa and Florence, I was getting pretty tired, but I had promised Roland that I would try to be in a good mood for the entire day. We went to a restaurant to get more authentic Italian goodness, but my pasta was kind of a disappointment. I still stayed joyful and optimistic. 

Roland started to get a little antsy around late evening. He had planned to take me to a park to see the sunset, but said park wasn't on the map, so we weren't really sure how long it was going to take. So, tired and bedraggled as I was, I put on a smile and trudged through the entire city of Florence and up to this park. About a half hour before we got to the park, Roland asked me to share my five favorite memories of our relationship. Well, I knew where this was going...

So, nervous and excited for his impending proposal, we talked and laughed and shared all of our best memories, and for a moment I really did forget how much my legs hurt. However, the sky was getting darker and darker, and the park was nowhere to be found. We finally encountered an elderly, lovely Italian couple at the base of the road leading to the park and asked if we were getting close (in French) to which they responded in their own broken French: "Ferrrrmé! Ferrrmé!" 

My. Heart. Shattered. 

Roland was persistent and suggested that we find a way to sneak into the park, or at least try to make the long walk back to the city, but I was too devastated to carry on. Almost making it an entire day without being a pill, I finally caved in and sat down on a bench in utter defeat. (Gosh, talk about a drama queen.) I sat there for a good half hour, upset and complaining about my legs, while Roland was still plotting how he might salvage his proposal. 

Suddenly out of the blue,  two missionaries came walking toward us, and my heart was cheered again--but I was still in a weird, tired, frustrated mood. In my defense we had been walking all day, and my legs are two flabby stalks that can only handle so much.

To make a long story short, I absolutely ruined Roland's proposal with my bad mood, but we still had another day to make up for it.

We started the day in bitter spirits, but there is nothing that a little gelato won't heal. We started the day at the gorgeous Gothic cathedral of Florence, cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fior, wandering the city and waiting for a socially acceptable time of day to eat more pizza. 

Handsome Roland

The slaughter of my hero, Medusa :(

 

Perfection.

Our trip to Florence would not have been complete without visiting the Uffizi Gallery, where I had my first encounter with two of my favorite paintings: Venus on a Half Shell, by Botticelli, and Artemisia Gentileschi's Judith Beheading Holofernes. Encountering the works of Botticelli was definitely a spiritual experience. I had been wandering through the gallery aimlessly, appreciating Medieval pieces and famous Italian paintings I had perhaps encountered in history books, when suddenly I walked into a random room, looked up, and beheld Venus. It was absolutely incredible, and I have never felt such a profound connection to a painting. It was healing to stand in front of this masterpiece and forget all of the disappointments of the weekend and to bask in the beauty of this beautiful, sensual image. 

Roland was nervous when I asked him to take a photo of me in front of this.
 Perhaps my expression does come off as a little too gleeful. 

After a long day in Florence of art and culture and gelato and pesto pizza and glorious architecture and spiritual encounters with Venus we boarded the train and made our way back to the Pisa airport. The landscape radiated such warmth and beauty, and Roland and I shared a special train ride of forgiveness and resolution of bitter feelings. It wasn't Roland's fault that the park was closed before he proposed, and it wasn't entirely my fault that I was so tired and grumpy....

Resolved in my heart that I would probably never get engaged, we flew back to the city of love in one piece, exhausted and travel weary. On the way home from the airport Roland was insistent that we go to St. Michel and get crêpes. It was already getting late, and I was really confused as to why he so desperately wanted a crêpe so late at night. Absolutely oblivious to his plans, I went along with it and trailed after him to St. Michel for a midnight crêpe. Miracle of miracles, there just happened to be a crêpe vendor open. 

Well, it wasn't about the crêpes, as I soon discovered. It was midnight, freezing, and raining, yet Roland was determined not to end the evening. As we were walking down to the Seine, it suddenly hit me: Roland was going to make his last attempt at proposing. 

Nervous and flustered, I walked with him hand and hand through icy rain by the glow of Notre-Dame Cathedral, absolutely disbelieving yet sure that I was about to become an engaged woman. We stopped on a bridge that overlooked the Seine, lights bleeding into the calm, rain-spotted waters. 

Roland held me there in his arms, shielding me from the cold in a warm embrace and whispering my favorite poem, Keats' "Bright Star." After a beautiful speech, he knelt down on one knee, the bridge suddenly empty of passersby. He asked me to marry him, midnight in Paris on a perfect, rainy night, and after an anguished pause I of course said yes. 

So there you have it. One long, whirlwind of a weekend in Florence, a failed proposal and a perfect proposal. It has been a crazy ride here in Paris, but I am discovering this beautiful world with my true love, and for that I will be eternally grateful. 

Vive la Révolution!

HAPPY BASTILLE DAY!

Well, it was the fête nationale this week, and I got to celebrate the French way! We didn't have to go into work, so I was able to BBQ it up with Roland's family and uncle and cousin.

Later in the evening we went to the base of the Eiffel Tower with Daniel to watch the most magnificent fireworks show of my entire life. It's one thing to even be at the Eiffel Tower, but to see explosions galore and sing the national anthem with thousands upon thousands of Frenchmen was just too good to be true.

It was definitely a day I will never forget!

But the best part of this week was definitely my visit to the Musée d'Orsay. Oh my goodness. I think I might have walked straight into heaven. I've always loved Impressionism, but to be honest I hadn't seen many Impressionist paintings in the flesh. To walk into a room full of Monet, Manet, Degas, 

Morisot...! Aaah! It was fantastic! Every level, every painting, every style... perfection. Musée d'Orsay is by far my favorite museum in Paris, and I will try to live there the rest of my time here in France. 

Photo tour! 

Nymphs! 

Dancers in Blue, Degas.... swoon. 

Okay, I could go on forever with the photos because I honestly took a million, but I could not possibly take in all of the beauty that surrounded me in every room I passed into. It has been so incredible to be surrounded by some of the most lauded, beautiful paintings, buildings, sculptures, and scenes in the entire world. I am so in love with Paris, and now I don't even care how cliché that sounds. As every instagram girl ever would say: Paris, je t'aime! 

Weekend in Bretagne

This is the story about my past weekend's excursion to the region of Bretagne!

So over the weekend I escaped to the magical land of Bretagne to meet Roland's grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins. To say I was nervous is an understatement. It's unbelievably frustrating to make a good impression in a second language, but that is the story of my life this summer. I realize that I am a completely different person under my French-speaking identity. Let's just say French-speaking Sylvia is not nearly as a intelligent as English-speaking Sylvia, but a great deal smilier and noddier. (No, not naughtier, though sometimes I wish that were the case.)

But back to Bretagne! First off all, shout out to Roland's dad for giving me a chance to see another part of France besides Paris. This region of France is so incredibly different and delightful. I would have been sad to have missed out on experiencing such a gorgeous and interesting side of the country.

After a long and transcendently beautiful drive we arrived at Roland's grandparents' home well into the evening. They live in a gorgeous, old stone home surrounded by hydrangeas and the most delightful smelling flowers in the world. From the moment I met his grandparents I could immediately see their features in Roland. It's always a curious experience, and one I can never get over. I now see that Roland gets his gangly body from his grandfather, bearing an uncanny resemblance to both of his grandparents.

In the morning Roland's dad got us up bright and early to accompany him for a shopping excursion through town. The old stone buildings felt so typically French and timeless that I thought I might cry. We bought candies, un far breton (the heaviest dessert ever), and fresh flowers from une fleuriste.

My social skills were once again put to the test. We drove out to Bringnogan to Roland's aunt and uncle's beach house for a family lunch with his cousins and their small children. I think I passed the test, but I'm not sure. In any case I'm skinny and pretty enough to be passable for Roland, so at least I have that going for me. ;) I ate fresh-caught fish straight from the ocean, and I finally got to try foie gras for the first time (so good). Roland's uncle is Breton and an expert fisherman, so needless to say our meal was extraordinary.

After lunch Roland's dad walked out to the water with us (less than five minutes from their house) and took in the most exquisite scenery of my life. I'm used to seeing beautiful waters in the context of more modern cities, but this was unparalleled. All of the stone homes surrounding the water create this timeless feeling, like you're stepping back into history (and in a lot of ways you really are).

Photo time!

This is what I mean by timeless. 

The next day we woke up early and drove through the most majestic landscape to Huelgoat grotto and forest. I definitely felt the pagan magic as we descended deep within an ancient grotto and felt the cool mists of the underground waterfalls. 

We hiked a good deal, perhaps where Roman soldiers had once dared to wander under thick, disorienting greenery and boulders. Now, my name means "of the forest," and I have always felt a deep connection to the mountain forests in Utah. But this? I don't think I have ever experienced such beauty in my life. The forests have such a spirit about them, and I definitely felt like a pagan goddess as I roamed through these fairy-infested woods. 

The photos here won't do it justice: 

Trolland and the Three Billy Goats Gruff 

After a long day of hiking I had my first Sarasin crêpe, and... oh. my. goodness. I will never be able to go back to any old crêpe again. It was literally the best thing I have ever eaten in my life. I will definitely need to go back before I die just so I can partake of at least one more. Seriously, changed my life.

On the way home we passed through several different villages and looked through beautiful, preserved churches. One place we stopped was called Locronan, and part of this village is built on a bridge and suspended over a large river. Every place we visited felt as if we were stepping back in time, and the beauty was truly indescribable. 

The next morning we walked through the moors to a chapel that had once been buried in sand. Though I wasn't in the English countryside, I felt as if we were Catherine and Heathcliff walking through this vast, desolate space. I honestly could not believe the beauty of all of the landscapes we visited. Bretagne is definitely one of the most beautiful, magical, mysterious places in the world. 

On our journey back to Paris, Roland's dad asked if I wanted to take a detour to Mount Saint Michel, to which I obviously said yes. Ever since I can remember I have watched videos and documentaries in French classes on this magnificent feudal structure. It's cool to ascend and see how you have the markets and houses, then the great halls, and finally the monastery, representing God. We were able to watch the tide as it rose, seemingly endless in the vast landscape surrounding it.

After a full day of driving we finally made it back to Paris, so strikingly different compared to the landscape I had just experienced, but I was happy to be back. Roland's dad took us to Chinese food near my apartment and then we called it a day/weekend. It was a memorable, beautiful experience, and I am so grateful to have seen such a magical part of France. 

Les Petits Frères

Well, the internship is upon me, and so far it's fantastic! Granted, it has been a little nerve-wracking, and I really suck at French, but I'm loving these sweet old people!

From what I can tell so far this experience is going to be a lot like my mission. I mean, it's lacking in the fact that I can't use a scripture or prayer to calm down a sad elderly person in need, but the service aspect feels the same, and it's incredibly fun to have exchanges with people from all walks of life.

On Monday we had a training for how to transport elderly people in and out of wheelchairs. Literally the funniest thing of my life. Elizabeth, another one of the interns, and I were basically out of control and are pretty confident that we're not ready to help these people. I had to hold her in my arms like a wee babe and transport her from one chair to the next, and my goodness were we all awks about it.

The other interns seem really nice. There is a beautiful girl from Lithuania named Paula, a foxy Polish girl named Gosha, a Romanian woman named named Anca, a saucy German fellow named Simon, and a slew of crazy, hilarious Spaniards named Sergio, Jesus, and Katia.

So I am a disciple of Jesus, and his other disciple, Paul (a French kid just doing this for fun) and I just follow him through the streets of Paris from appointment to appointment. He basically talks and Paul and I listen. But no really, I am so grateful I have this bearded Spaniard to guide me through my internship. He's a saint, to say the least.

The first night we went to see Yvette, an elderly blind woman with a lot of spunk. This woman is hilarious, but my goodness can she TALK! She reminds me a lot of an investigator I had on my mission named Lucie, only in this case our four hour visit was straight French and nothing else. We took her to the pharmacie, walked her to the bakery, and then visited for hours on end. It was exhausting, but I felt like we were useful to her in some way. She said that her only visits are from les petits frères, and that broke my heart a little.

All of the people I have met so far have been incredibly nice. Their histories are so compelling, and it is definitely giving me a perspective of French culture that I didn't think I would ever get to experience.

Siblings Take on Barcelona

Well, I think I can say that I am officially feeling settled in Paris! This week I took the metro all by myself out to my Parisian studio apartment. It was probably the most terrifying thing of my life, but now I'm a pro. I also went to a little café an ordered an omelette in French by myself, and to my great surprise, the waitress responded to me in English! Grrrr. I refused to speak English back. It's a little discouraging when the locals think I'm a tourist reading out of a Paris guidebook. Never mind that I've been studying French for over half my life, I guess. 

My apartment is amazing! And, like every girl's dream, I have a view of the Eiffel Tower from my window.

Yeah, you could say I dig my digs

So a lot happened over the weekend! Daniel and I were able to take a little sibling trip out to BARCELONE!

I'm going to be real with you here... about the only thing I knew about Barcelona before we went there was from The Cheetah Girls 2, so let's just say I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the city is just so much more than that.

I have to confess that I had never really thought much about Spain before I got there. Kind of like Canada before my mission, it was just there. A cool place with cool people, but an area of the world I had never looked too much into.

Now, I'm obsessed. Barcelona was absolutely beautiful, and for a touristy place, it was actually enormously pleasant.

On the first day Daniel and I just wandered the city. We were both pretty tired, but the ocean revived our spirits, so we really did end up having an incredibly peaceful, relaxed day. Obviously we had to start out by eating tapas and paella, and let me just say... I could live in Spain forever. Oh. My. Gosh. THE FOOD! I have never had anything quite so delicious. Spain definitely worked it's way into my heart through my stomach, and when I say that I mean it was fully and completely thanks to tapas and paella. I don't think we ate anything but that the entire weekend.

So.

Delicious.

Where have you been all my life? 

After we had fed ourselves to the point of pain we went on a peaceful, breezy walk through the city. We spent a considerable time at La Rambla, often making it our go-to for the majority of our food excursions. A tourist trap, perhaps, but we loved it too much, so we just embraced our touristy natures.

And now for a photo tour through the area surrounding La Rambla:

The most gorgeous, luscious umbrella of trees that overlooks La Rambla.

Not real life. 

Also not real life. 

Perfection

After shopping around and wandering the streets for a solid part of the afternoon, Daniel and I went back to our air conditioned hotel for some much needed rest. So apparently there was a heat wave in Paris this weekend? Yeah, we missed it. Air conditioning. The American way. SO glorious. (WHY DON'T EUROPEANS LIKE AIR CONDITIONING?) We're such wasteful Americans, but let's be honest--nobody likes to feel like they're bathing in their own sweat.

In the evening we navigated our way to Sagrada Familia, perhaps one of the most majestic encounters with a structure I've had apart from seeing the Eiffel Tower for the first time. What was absolutely fascinating to me about this basilica is that construction started in 1882 and it's still not finished, nor will it be finished at least until 2026.  Gaudí is an absolute genius, and I can honestly say, from my limited knowledge, that I have never seen a modern architectural style quite like it. It's as if the building is melting, and yet (I think) the structure is completely sound. For a building that towers over 500 feet, let's hope it's structurally sound.

So massive I can hardly fit it into my camera lens!

To end the night Daniel and I went and found the most AMAZING gelato! I'll have to see how it compares to the gelato in Italy, but from what I experienced, it was by far the best gelato I've ever had in my entire life. We may or may not have eaten gelato 3-4 times a day, but hey, it's vaca! We deserved it!

Mmmm. Tapas and paella and gelato. Soooo faaaaat.

Speaking of our vacation mindset of binging and relaxing and wandering without a care in the world, we celebrated the 4th of July the proper way: in a foreign country, lounging on the beach and getting baked to a crispy red the entire day. And I have NO regrets. We are definitely lobster status now, but spending a long-awaited day at the beach was incredibly worth it. Daniel and I were so afraid of thieves that we never got into the ocean together, which resulted in Eurostar creepers coming after me like sharks every time I tried to enjoy the water. It was still perfect and luxurious and glorious, but I had to explain to these dudes about a THOUSAND times that I was not interested in following them deeper into the water. Creepers. 

I mean, why would anyone want to creep me?

Especially with this dude around? 

To finish our 4th of July celebration we took a break from tapas and waited hours to get into the Hard Rock Cafe because freedom. And to be honest, it was the worst, most expensive idea ever. But... God bless America? 

For our last day we considered lounging an entire day at the beach again, but in the end our curious natures won out, and we went to explore more of the city. I'm so grateful we did because the cathedrals and old streets and architecture are absolutely stunning. We found secret little soap shops, old fountains, and the most beautiful little neighborhoods during our ramblings. Safe to say, I am absolutely in love with Barcelona. 

Photo tour of the city take two: 

Blending of the old and the new. 

The secret well. 

Brocelona 

To finish off our day we thought it would be nice to get one last view of the whole city. We took the sketchiest sky tram over to the other side of the mountain, and let me tell you, it did not mix well with my fear of heights. Still, it was incredible to get to take in the whole city and glide over the gorgeous blue waters of Barcelona. I miss it dearly already, but we truly had the most wonderful sibling trip and memories to last a lifetime. 

Bye, Barcelona. 

See you next time!