provence: aix-en-provence

Joey came home from work yesterday and said, "You updated your blog!"  Then he frowned and said, "You went from Paris straight to Des Moines."

Write. Your. Own. Blog.

So I'll go back to Paris, where early Sunday morning Joey, Sujata, and I caught the high-speed train to Aix-en-Provence (pronounced "X").  While hurrying through the train station, my sweet husband rolled his suitcase over my sandal and the strap snapped.  My favorite travel shoes, the most comfortable, the most versatile, and most importantly, my only pair of travel shoes were immediately shot.  I flipped out but we were late so with a huff I shuffled my dangling shoe hurriedly to our train.

Joey and Sujata outside the train station in Paris.  Sujata dubbed Joey, "Gay Don Johnson," or "GDJ" for short, to show her fondness for his jacket.

The train was full of colorful characters, including an unsolicited translation of "ham and cheese" from a guy who then deliberately sat on Joey's hand and a woman who squatted in front of our seats.  Don't worry if this has you raising an eyebrow and thinking, "WTF?"  We couldn't explain it either, but by the time the lady squatted (she even put her arms out in front of her to balance), we were laughing so hard we had doubled over in tears.  Then Sujata and I spent the rest of the four-hour trip torturing Joey with girl talk.  Craig/Tex better watch out: I'm pretty sure Joey's still plotting his revenge for ditching him with the two of us for five days.

Our plan was to rent a car at the train station and take day trips from our cottage right outside Aix-en-Provence.  Unfortunately almost everything in France closes on Sunday, including the car rental (who vacations on Sunday, seriously?), so we had to wait an hour for the proprietor of our cottage to pick us up (the high speed train station is situated a several kilometers from town).  In the meantime we entertained ourselves with perverse translations on the train station restaurant menu.  "Salty softness," anyone? (Or a quiche, same thing.)

Finally, Nathalie picked us up and drove us through the gorgeous, rolling, bright green and limestone foothills to Aix-en-Provence.  She dropped us off at the breathtaking La Rotonde fountain, which also happened to be the beginning of the outdoor market, and arranged to return in a few hours to take us to her cottage.  While I waddled in my broken shoe and took a thousand pictures, Joey and Sujata shopped.  They bought fresh bread, homemade sausages, cheese and raspberry jam, ripe peaches and figs.  They even found white truffles.

La Rotonde fountain in Aix-en-Provence

It was markedly hotter than Paris, so after sweating through the market we proceeded to cool off with some pastis for Joey and Sujata and local rose for me.  Then we had to try some ice cream on our way to the little grocery store where we found an entire wall of wine under eight euro.  Amazing.  The three of us left with seven bottles and a bottle of Ricard, among a few other essential items, and slowly meandered back to our pick-up point.  In the meantime we tried to tour the inside of a church, which quickly proved a bad idea with our wine bottles clanging together louder than the bells.  We giggled our way to the fountain.

Upon our arrival at our cottage, we were all thrilled to find it clean and bright and nestled in the most gorgeous valley of Montagne Sainte-Victoire with an incredible view and even more incredible sunset.  That night we feasted on our purchases from the market followed by homemade, white truffle gnocchi.  And several bottles of wine.  I believe the French have a saying about living life like that. Joie de vivre, amen.

des moines

I'd scheduled my trip to Des Moines such that I gave notice to my old job, worked the last two weeks, got on a plane (or 3), spent a whirlwind 8 days at home, got another plane, and started my new job the next day.  Which was supposed to be yesterday.  Now I don't have a concrete start date and am quickly running out of things to do, especially with M. doing the breakfast dishes and making my bed (I love her), so I figured I'd elaborate on my trip to Des Moines.  Maybe I'll even start blogging about R&R. 

You know you're homesick when you're admiring the whitewashed buildings against the brilliant blue sea in Santorini and thinking about Des Moines.  Emphasis on sick.  So with the promise of new, more lucrative employment, over the last few days of R&R in July (yes, over dinner at some darling outdoor cafe in Rome.  I did emphasize sick.), Joey and I discussed a trip to Des Moines.  Together.  Until we returned to Abuja and started pricing airfare.  Three thousand dollars a ticket.  Yep.  Three thousand dollars.  When my sister came to visit she paid half that.  And guess what?  Roundtrip prices from the US to Abuja are always half that of those from Abuja to the US.  Why?  Supply and demand.  What a bunch of shit. 

Naturally, Joey and I reeled at those prices and said nevermind to our trip to Des Moines.  But I still wanted to go home.  So badly.  And with time off in a new job uncertain and other trips already booked (a word of advice to new people moving abroad: maybe in month 1 you think you won't want to go home and you should use your time off to explore the world.  By month 7 you will not feel the same way.  Plan the trip home.  That's what it's there for.), this was the only time I could go.  And then Joey was offered a training in DC in the middle of September.  Which meant he got a ticket to the US.  So we bit the bullet and bought my ticket to Des Moines.  We ended up spending the same amount we'd planned.  Only one of us got to go to Des Moines and the other one gets to go to Washington.  And not at the same time.  But he gets Five Guys and Ben's Chili Bowl and I can assure you my fat kid husband with a ridiculously unfair metabolism is cool with that.

I thought it'd be fun to surprise my parents.  It'd been eight months since we'd seen each other, and they weren't expecting to see me until early 2012.  So, with some careful scheming between my sisters, our Aunt Missy, we arranged to surprise Mom and Dad at their friends' house.  So after 30 long hours traveling (that's a hard journey to make alone.  Especially because husbands are not only fun to talk to, but they make great airplane seat extensions too), Mal and Lizz picked me up at the airport, from where we met Aunt Missy and surprised Mom and Dad at their friends' house.  Lizz recorded their reactions on Mallory's phone; here's the link:   http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=614267692534 I wish I was tech savvy enough to just post the video but unfortunately I'm not.  Hopefully it works even if you're not friends with Mallory on Facebook.  Anyway, Mom and Dad were beyond surprised and a few tears were shed by all.  Their friends, Ann and Mark, cooked the perfect first-meal-in-America-in-eight-months anyone could ask for: cheeseburgers with fresh jalapenos, Iowa sweet corn and Costco cake.  After a lovely dinner, the whole Soda family piled in Mallory's new convertible and Mom and Dad promptly got shit on by a flock of geese flying above.  Mallory and Lizz and I thought it was hilarious....I digress.  Mom and Dad put clean sheets on my old bed and I slept like a baby.  It felt amazing.

The next morning Mallory, Mom and Dad and I drove through a gorgeous Iowa thunderstorm to Council Bluffs for a violet-themed birthday party.  This time Mom and Dad got to partake in the surprise as I hugged my grandparents.  When my grammy saw me she reacted exactly the same way as my dad: her face went completely blank, then confused, shocked, and finally into a huge smile.  What a fun surprise.  I spent the afternoon catching up with my mom's side of the family; I can't believe how much my cousins' kids have grown.  After a tour of my cousin Tiffany's beautiful new home, we headed back to Des Moines for a delicious spaghetti dinner with my dad's side of the family.  Since Mallory had already posted the video of my parents' surprise on Facebook I didn't get to surprise my other grandma, but it was still great to see everybody.  More disbelief at how big and smart my cousins' kids have become as I met the newest member of the family.  Then it was back home to my comfy old bed.

Mallory and I spent the whole next day together.  Hot yoga followed by mani/pedis, then some shopping at my favorite department store and then more shopping and lunch downtown Des Moines.  That night my Uncle Tom treated us to a fabulous dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in Des Moines. 

Tuesday I had lunch with my friend Allison and her beautiful baby girl, Molly, and then spent an hour wandering in childlike amazement at the grocery store while I happily sipped my Starbucks that I'd purchased there.  Though I'm loathe to admit it, God, how I'd missed the suburbs.  Somehow I managed to spend $200 on protein powder and candy.  Then my sisters and cousins and I spent the night at the bar.  It was a blast, which is a good thing since I spent the whole next day paying for it.

From left: Lizz, me, Mal, P and Maria.  Yes, Maria and I are each holding two beers.  It was two-fers night.  Ouch.

Wednesday I was up early for coffee with my friend, Lee, where I ran into my lunch date, Kate.  Only in Des Moines!  Kate and I caught up a few hours later over sushi.  I think we could have talked for days.  Dinner that night was low-key at home with the whole family; the only person missing was Joey.  We laughed so hard Mallory snarfed her milk. 

Thursday Lizz and I spent a good two hours at Target.  She was very patient with my need to marvel up and down every aisle at a snail's pace, so afterward I treated her to Mexican for lunch.  My mom met us and she took me to Trader Joe's, where I bought more candy and some cheese, and then to the running store for new shoes.  Thursday night my friend Lauren took me out for dinner at the Cheesecake Factory and then to see her new photography studio.  It was really inspiring to see how far she's come with what was once a hobby!

Friday Mom and I explored Costco and then since we had some extra time but food in the car, she was patient enough to wait in the car while I ran in Old Navy and DSW.  Then she dropped me off at the dentist, went home, unloaded the food, and came back to pick me up.  I bet it really made her miss the good old days of playing chauffeur to three busy girls.  That night Dad's whole family came over for pizza for his birthday.  I'm so glad we all got a chance to see each other again before I left.

Saturday I sat around and did nothing all day.  I was exhausted and although my original flight was scheduled to leave the next day, my best friend was scheduled to come to town Monday, and I'd hoped to be able to leave Tuesday instead.  So I didn't run any of my remaining errands under the assumption I had an extra day.  Then Saturday night we enjoyed dinner with Mom's family again.

Sunday morning my dear husband woke me up bright and early at 6 am to tell me he couldn't change my flight.  I knew I should have bought the meat sooner!  So quickly I took a shower and drove to the grocery store, where I filled a cart with steaks and sour cream and ricotta cheese.  At the check-out I realized I had forgotten my credit card (why do I always do that?), so I had to drive back home, find the card, drive back to the store and get my food.  I stuffed everything in the freezer and went to church with my dad. 

After Mass, Dad and I ran the last of my errands, while I returned things to Target and Old Navy (it's amazing what you will buy when you haven't been there in 8 months) and found an anniversary gift for Joey.  Then I packed my suitcase, we stuffed the half-frozen meat in a cooler and headed to the airport.

The trip was a total whirlwind and wiped me out, but it was so worth it.  I was in such a better mood on the way back I only bitched at one person in line to the plane to Abuja (if I can feel your breath on my neck, I'm going to let you know I need my personal space).  Somehow the meat arrived still cold and I couldn't have been happier to see my smiling husband, despite his buzzed head (buzzed as soon as he dropped me off at the airport a week earlier).  M. was delighted with the pink Drake tee shirt I brought for her and cried when I gave her little girl some sidewalk chalk, a jump rope, crayons and Sponge Bob coloring book.  She and Joey have been quickly picking off the giant tub of jelly beans from Costco over the last two days.  I'm enjoying temporary unemployment and quality time with the boys.  And tonight I'll be enjoying some thick Iowa ribeyes for dinner.

i am updating my blog.

The 30-hour trip back to Abuja wasn't nearly as exhausting as the 30- hour trip to Des Moines.  Maybe it was the margarita in the Minneapolis airport that cost as much as my salad, a better selection of movies on the plane or fun playing with my new Nook reader.  I know having a window seat and the accompanying aisle seat on the flight to Abuja made a difference.  But I think what really made the trip back to Abuja more palatable was how calm, centered and happy I felt after seeing all of my friends and family back home.  I can't explain it, but for some reason just being home and sitting on the couch next to my dad; having a real, face-to-face conversation with my mom; enjoying manis and pedis with Mallory and wandering Target with Lizz; going out for drinks with my cousins and playing with their beautiful kids (not in that order); and all the wonderful lunches and dinners with friends and family in between made me feel so much stronger.  It felt incredible to take hot yoga classes and run in the crisp, clean, Iowa air.  I ate cheeseburgers and sweet corn and pasta and sushi and key lime cheesecake.  And I got to see and hug and talk to almost all of the most important people in my life, and for some reason, now I feel like I can handle living here a little bit easier.  Maybe it's the freezer packed with Iowa beef I smuggled in my suitcase.  But I think it's all the love and support that truly only family can provide, even from 5,000 miles away.

paris!

Joey and I landed in Paris yesterday.   We've spent the last two days eating cheese, foie gras, baguettes, dark cherries and chocolate; wandering the city and drinking way too much wine with our friends Craig (Tex) and Sujata.  Sujata and Joey were in the same A-100 class in DC; especially after the past 48 hours here I'd say she definitely got the short end of the stick as far as postings go.  But she's been quite gracious to let us crash in her gorgeous apartment with its parquet floors, tall, molded ceilings and huge windows that open to a gorgeous view of the city.  I mean, it's no Abuja, but not everybody can live in paradise like Joey and me.   

Regardless, our vacation is off to a wonderful start.  Yesterday we climbed a million stairs to visit the Sacre Coure and Joey got to see the Eiffel Tower for the first time.  Actually, Sujata lives very near the Eiffel Tower so we've been able to walk past it several times and it's just so cool.  We even ran by it this morning.  Can you imagine being able to run by the Eiffel Tower every day?  Anyway, this afternoon Sujata was kind enough to invite us to the US Embassy and family Fourth of July reception at the US Ambassador's house (a gift from the French to the US after WWII, and oh my God what a gift).  Afterward we slowly meandered past the Musee d'Orsay, the Lourve and Notre Dame. 

Now it's naptime while we wait for Craig and Sujata to get off work and then we're off to dinner and drinks.  More eating and drinking through Paris awaits us tomorrow, then Sunday the four of us head to Provence.  We're going to see the lavender and Joey and Tex can hardly contain their excitement!

stockholm

Talk about the antithesis of Lagos (and a great literary segue if I do say so myself).  Everything about Stockholm and our time there was completely fabulous (ok, maybe not the pickled herring).  Stockholm felt crisp and clean and fresh, from the incredible Scandinavian architecture to the gorgeous European fashion; from the frothy beer at ubiquitous sidewalk cafes to the multitude of museums; from the ability to safely wander aimlessly and take pictures to the Swiss efficiency and ingenuity!  God, it was amazing!  Invigorating.  Romantic.  Exhilirating.

Almost exactly 24 hours after leaving for the Abuja airport, we landed in Stockholm at 10:30 am Sunday.  We headed straight for the hotel.  Crazy, I know, but even though we checked in over two hours early, the hotel was able to accommodate us!  (Seriously the things you take for granted before you move to Africa.)  Joey begged desperately for a nap but I convinced him that he'd feel just as refreshed after a shower.  By 1:00 pm we were out on the town.  Destination #1: Hard Rock Cafe.

Okay, I know what you're thinking.  I've thought it too.  Stupid, ridiculous Americans fly half-way across the world to go eat cheeseburgers?  Let me tell you about how I've condemned the McDonald's customers in European capitals.  But after four full months of Nigerian beef (if you've looked at my pictures you've seen the emaciated cattle) and the very intense, gamey "mincemeat" derived from said beef, Joey and I were both jonesing uncontrollably for a big, thick, juicy, corn-fed, American burger.  Go ahead, judge me.

Did you know the Hard Rock Cafe serves brunch on Sundays until 4 o'clock!  What kind of ridiculous BS is that?!  Who eats brunch after 2, seriously?  And who goes to the Hard Rock Cafe for brunch?  What is the matter with these people?  The Hard Rock Cafe exists for cheeseburgers!  At least let people order a cheeseburger from the bar!

Defeated and starving after 24 full hours of airplane meals, we head over to Gamla Stan, the oldest area of Stockholm.  Nothing like darling old buildings to perk up your spirit!  Unfortunately, our spirits weren't the only thing that perked up.  Holy tourist trap the prices at the restaurants were absolutely ridiculous.  We wandered for about an hour until settling on a cafe where I could get something local and sort of healthy and the prices wouldn't bankrupt us for the rest of our trip.  Unfortunately they no longer had the salmon salad written on the outdoor chalkboard that led me to choose the restaurant in the first place (are we back in Abuja where we put things on the menu that don't really exist?), but my caesar substitute was the perfect thing to hold me over until Hard Rock stopped serving brunch.

It seemed like every place we tried to visit closed right before we walked in, probably because it was Sunday, or maybe because it was Europe, so we spent the majority of the day just wandering.  Which turned out to be wonderful.  The weather couldn't have been more beautiful: bright blue, cloudless skies complemented by the perfect sixty-five degree temperature. It felt so great to walk around and not sweat!

While we ambled, we noticed an increase in police presence right in front of the Royal Palace.  I excitedly thought we might see a royal procession.  Turns out a bunch of hippies (including many topless women whose boobs I really could have lived without seeing) were staging a parade or protest (against bras?) or something.  Just another day in Europe I suppose!  As much as I appreciated the visual stimuli, it was so great to see people voice their beliefs (even if I still don't know what that is) safely and without violence.

Anyway, it was finally time to go back to Hard Rock.  The nachos and burger were amazing and we ate like champions.  We debated whether to attempt to explain to the waitress that all Americans don't eat cheeseburgers in Europe; that we've lived in Africa for the last four months but we decided she wouldn't care either way.  Oh well.

Completely satisfied, we decided to check out the Icebar.  The same company who builds the Icehotel in northern Sweden every year maintains a bar in Stockholm too.  As you probably discerned from its name, the Icebar is entirely constructed from ice.   Ice bar, ice chairs, ice walls; it was so cool, literally, we donned fur-lined hooded capes and thick gloves to sip lingonberry-flavored vodka out of ice glasses.   Once our teeth were sufficiently chattering, we hung our capes and headed back outside into the longest dust.  It was nine pm and the sky was just beginning to turn dark.  What a dramatic difference from Abuja, which is so close to the equator it never stays light past 6:30.

Monday morning we woke up bright and early to explore more of the city.  We slowly meandered along the water as we made our way to the Vasa Museum.  The Vasa is a huge, 17th-century warship that sunk before it ever left the harbor; the concentration of salt in the water preserved the boat almost entirely.  So in the 1970's the Swedes raised her from the seafloor and put her in a museum.  It was pretty neat to see the boat and learn the theories why she sunk.  I also learned that ballast = rocks.  Who would have thought they put rocks in the bottom of a boat to make it float?!  (Maybe I should have paid more attention in science class).

We left the Vasa Museum and headed to the 19th-century Ostermalm Saluhall right by our hotel, an old market that's still in use today.  We walked the aisles and drooled over all of the meat and cheese and chocolate and fruit and vegetables and of course, fish!  We decided we'd worked up sufficient hunger to tackle the smorgasbord, so on to the Grand Hotel we went.  While we smorgased, I got to see that royal procession for which I'd been longing the previous afternoon!  All of a sudden probably a hundred guards in blue regalia and shiny gold helmets trotted their horses down the street in front of the hotel.  Joey and I noticed that none of the other restaurant guests nor the pedestrians next to the horses missed a beat when the procession began.  We asked our waitress, who replied that this was merely the horses' daily exercise routine.  Uh, cool!  Although if I lived in any sort of monarchy I would flip out about my taxes paying for such crap, but I have to admit I secretly love the pomp and pageantry.

 

Bellies full, we left the Grand Hotel for the City Hall, where the Nobel banquet is held each year.   We toured the gilded and chandeliered building before climbing its million-stair tower (where I believe I burned all of the calories from lunch) for a bird's-eye view of the Stockholm archipelago.  The water simply sparkles.

We wandered some more, heading into a different part of town, Sodermalm, to sit in the sunshine and enjoy a beer.  We watched all the bicycles whiz past as people left work for the day.  Finally, exhausted, still quite full and feeling a little woozy from the sugar and booze, we decided to call it an early night so we could fit as much as possible into our last day in Stockholm.

Tuesday morning I was up at 5:30 am.  I showered, packed for Joey and me, then woke him up.  He got ready quickly (I'm very hard to ignore), and we'd had breakfast (OMG the homemade jam they served with these crepe-like Swedish pancakes was to die for) and were out the door by 7:30 am.  We explored more of the city before catching a riverboat to the royal's summer palace, Drottningholm.  The hour-long boat ride was lovely and the palace was even lovelier.  We toured the interiors, an original 18th century theatre and its gardens before returning to Stockholm.

We spent our last few hours in the city exploring the royal's regular palace (how can you survive with only one palace?), tasting chocolate in Gamla Stan, enjoying an early dinner at one outdoor cafe and some wine and dessert at another outdoor cafe.  Then we walked back to our hotel to grab our bags and made our way to the airport to catch our 7:30 flight back to real life.  A whirlwind 60 hours sandwiched between two 24 hour flights may have exhausted our bodies, but it renewed our spirits.   And I really, really needed that.

Click here for the rest of my photos from our trip.

creepy crawly

 

Rainy season began to creep closer at the end of April.  With the frequent rain and wind also came these lovely creatures.  They're everywhere.  Ew.

how to eat a smogasbord

Like I needed instructions on how to stuff my face.  Anyone who's ever attended a buffet with me before can attest it's a good thing I work out. 

So Joey and I decided that we couldn't have a true Swedish experience unless we went to a smorgasbord.  We did some online research before we left and asked around Stockholm while we arrived; everyone seemed to agree the most authentic Smorgasbord exists at The Veranda restaurant in the Grand Hotel Stockholm.  Lunch on white tablecloths at a five-star hotel?  Fine by me. 

We sat down next to the window and the waitress brought us little pamphlets on how to properly enjoy the smorgasbord.  Like good little eaters, we decided to follow the instructions and try everything.  There are starving kids in Africa after all.

Step 1: Think of the smorgasbord as a four to six course meal. 

Deal.

Step 2: Do not overload your plate.  Make several trips to the buffet and take a new plate each time. 

I suppose I'll be polite and refrain from stuffing my plate.   And you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll make several trips.   You don't have to stuff your plate to stuff your face.

Step 3: Begin with the herring dishes.  These are traditionally served with boiled potatoes, crispbread and cheese.  Herring tastes best with a cool aquavit chased with cold beer.  

So this is where I really wished I hadn't agreed to try everything.  Maybe one bite of herring would have been fine.  But one bite of pickled herring, one bite of honey mustard herring, one bite of cinnamon herring, one bite of curried herring...by the tenth bite of herring I had a nice little buzz because every time I took a bite I took an even bigger sip of my cold beer.  Then came the shot of aquavit.  Bigger buzz.  Whoops.  Good thing there was more food to eat before a buzzing Melissa hit the dessert table.

Step 4: Next, try another Swedish specialty, gravad lax, which is served with a mustard and dill sauce.  Try the smoked salmon, preferably with a few drops of lemon. 

Great.  More fish.  Actually, I like salmon.  I really do.  But after all of the herring, all of the salmon started to taste...fishy.  And then there were the salmon terrines...Joey cheated and didn't even try his.  I tried them.  And drank more beer.

Step 5: Then we suggest a variety of salads, egg dishes and cold cuts of meat and poultry. 

Gladly. 

Step 6: Now it is high time to try the hot dishes.  Don't miss the Swedish meatballs with lingonberries.

Swedish meatballs = delicious.  Lingonberries are great too. At this point we were starting to get full and had to save room for desserts.  So I ate my meatballs and Joey tried a few other items.  I understand that the food found nearby is incorporated into the food but I really wish they hadn't put fish in the cheesy potatoes.

Step 7: To round off the meal, we suggest our famous desserts, especially the fruit salad.  A cup of coffee and an iced Swedish punsch completes the meal. 

1. round indeed. 
2. fruit salad???  Yeah, right.

3. obviously we had to try the punsch.  Delight- ful, if I do slur so myself.  Tasted some- what like a sauternes and I was quite happy with that.  And quite happy after that too.  Oh and then they have to go and serve these delicious strawberry gum drops that seriously melt in your mouth after I'm two beers, one aquavit and one punsch in with the coffee - thank God for the coffee.

Step 8: Hold the railing as you descend the stairs from the hotel to the exit. 

Okay, this step isn't really in the pamphlet.  I hooked my elbow around Joey's arm a little more firmly than normal and we departed the Grand Hotel to waddle wander the streets of Stockholm for the rest of the afternoon.