Vous Etes Chez Vous

Before I could get the keys to the apartment, I had to get insurance for it (with a paper showing that I have said insurance), and do a walk-through of the apartment with a guy from, um?, a walk-through agency.

(So "walk-through" is the best translation I can come up with for 'état de lieu.' It's where you walk through and make notes of the current state of the place: what's broken, missing, cracked, etc., so you're not charged for those damages when you leave. And so that maybe your proprietor will fix them before you leave, since you're just moving in... What's that called in English, please?)

As I've said before on the blog, I feel pretty confident in my French, except for when I'm doing something completely outside of my vocabulary/experience comfort zone. I've never done a walk-through in English, much less in French, and so I really didn't know exactly how this thing was going to go down. Therefore, I was a little nervous and a whole lot excited about today, because after the walk-through, the place is mine.

I showed up with Pantene (two pairs of eyes are better than one), and waited outside the building. A man with an envelope with my name on it showed up and well...you know how you can spot your own name from a mile away even if you have terrible eyesight like me? I saw my name on that envelope and knew he was the guy we were meeting.

I gave him my go-to line ("Pardon me, but French is not my first language but I am going to try,") and he responded by saying, "Well, then, I will...speak...verrrrrrryyyyy...slooooooowwwly." That's a good sign.

He, Pantene and I packed into the 2-person elevator, and I'm not gonna lie...it was awkward. But now I know the elevator can hold three people who are willing to risk it. :)

We walked through the place and noticed little things here and there. A radiator doesn't have a handle, there's a little knick in the hardwood floor or one of the doors, the 150 year old fireplace has a crack in the marble...that kind of thing.

Then in the bathroom, he points out that the faucet (where you hook up the washing machine) doesn't have a handle. Kind of important. Speaking of faucets, the one in the kitchen sink is so wiggly-jiggly you'd think it's been taking dancing lessons from J-Lo. While in the kitchen, I noticed that the proprietor has not cut out the counter over the space where the oven goes (and thus, I can't order my oven yet because it won't fit). Eek.

He took pictures, and typed things up, and explained all sorts of things in ways I could understand. (There was once when I understood every word and a basic concept, but had no idea exactly what it meant because it had to do with how to turn the gas heater on. I'll ask an English speaking male friend about that one...) I handed the insurance paper, signed more documents, and then the glorious moment came.

He handed me the keys and said, "Vous êtes chez vous." (You're in your home.) Glorious.

As I let him out, the front door handle literally fell off in my hands. I laughed and asked him if he'd written that one down. He assured me he did. Note to self: Don't move anything in until that door gets fixed and you add another lock...

Pantene and I went down and checked the digital machine that guests have to use to call my apartment...my name was already in it. I now have an apartment with my name on the door.

This is a big deal.

Jewelry Quarter Museum

Along with my "you've seen one big European church, you've seen them all" is my attitude towards, well, most touristy things in Europe. I sort of feel like, "been there done that." I've lived here long enough that so much of the normal thrills are becoming commonplace for me. All the castles look the same. All the churches look the same. All the cute little villages look the same.

I'm not complaining by any means. I'm just saying that it's all blending together and becoming normal.

So when Creedance asked what I wanted to do, I sort of gave her a "meh, whatever," attitude. I said that I liked musuems/churches/castles/famous people's birthplaces if they were cool. If I could be a nerd and learn something while there. And since my definition of cool could be considered relative, I'm sure she was in a pinch.

Enter Museum of the Jewellery Quarter. (No, I didn't misspell that. The Brits follow the French and add in extra letters unnecessarily.) The Jewelry Quarter of Birmingham is this cute little area that was the hub of jewelry making about 100+ years ago when it became all hip and chic for everyone to have a little silver or gold or bling.

These two guys, Smith and Pepper, opened a jewelry business and factory in 1899. In 1981, they just locked the doors and left. The place is preserved to look just like when they were there. The guided tour was superb. I even read somewhere that it was ranked third best guided tour in Europe. Wowzah. I learned about jewelry making, about factory work in the early 20th century, and how people could sneakily steal gold dust by greasing their hair. Fascinating.

Cool.

The tour starts off with an interactive room with all sorts of things to look at, touch, listen to, etc. Here's Creedance listening to one of the soundbites about the factory.

I was at first fascinated by the really old, really big Wrigley's Spearmint Gum tin. Then I listened to the soundbite with it and learned that it was an animal foot inside of it. (Gross.) However, the foot was used to dust the jewelry because the fur could hold onto whatever dust (gold or otherwise) that was sticking to the jewelry. I found that interesting. Weird, but interesting.
An art nouveau mirror made by Smith and Pepper. Isn't it lovely?
The guide took us into Mr. Smith's office. He explained that Miss Olive made tea just on the other side of the wall there. If a customer was going to make a large order, Mr. Smith would knock once on the wall next to Winston Churchill, and she would bring tea in for the customer. If the customer was going to make a very large order, he would knock twice, and she's bring tea and cookies. :)
Like I said, they didn't pack anything up when they left. They just locked the doors and walked away. Aparently, there were still teacups with dried up tea inside. We saw an old jar of Marmite. And in those registers on the shelves...a milk bill from 1899!!!
I was fascinated by the nostalgia. What cool old light switches!
One of the reasons they didn't continue their business was due to their age and how rapidly the world was changing. They just couldn't keep up with modern conveniences...or security codes. This was what one electrical socket looked like!
Papers everywhere! (This was all just the office...I didn't take as many photos in the factory part because I was so caught up in listening to what the guide was saying.)
He demonstrated a jeweler's workbench for us. Each one has a horseshoe shaped workbench that is unique to him. He showed us all sorts of things they would do there at the bench. Honestly, so interesting! This museum was no "been there, done that." It really was cool, and I learned alot. I'd highly recommend it if you ever go to Birmingham.

What was really neat, though, was that we met a real jeweler that day who fixed Creedance's ring for her! You can't really see it in this photo, but he has a horseshoe-shaped workbench just like from the museum! This man was so interesting. We asked him how he became a jeweler and he said he dropped out of school at 15, and figured he could learn how to be a jeweler, and he's been doing it for 40+ years.

He laughed joyfully and said, "You can tell I don't enjoy it." As we walked back to a different part of his shop, I noticed an open Bible laying on top of a shedder machine. The Bible was well-thumbed through and had a sticky note marking the page. I jokingly said, "I hope you're not planning on shredding that!" He glanced back at it and said, "Oh no. That there's my constant companion."

I knew then where his joy came from, and it wasn't jewelry making. How sweet to meet a brother to top off an already wonderful experience.

Birmingham, England

My brother lives in Birmingham, Alabama. Creedance lives in Birmingham, England. I wish they lived in the same B'ham, cause that would've been awesome. But alas, I didn't head over an ocean to go B'ham this time around. I did, however, get an awesome vacation with Creedance. When we weren't fulfilling all my Pinterest dreams, we were lounging round town having a grand ole time.

We ate Yemmeni food. Super delish. (Pictured below). We also ate fish n chips. And Pakistani curry. And pasties. I might have drank a Dr. Pepper or two...

Because once upon a time in London I didn't look right and was almost hit by Anthony Hopkins as a result, I tried to pay attention to the "street crossing for dummies." Creedance had to constantly remind me which side of the car to get into.
We talked couches. She has a.maz.ing Italian leather couches that are legit. Dare to dream. I found this leather guy that I would love to have in couch form (not pictured) in the red color I am holding up.
We walked around the city center and I marveled at the clouds. So beautiful.
We watched American Idol on the telly, a movie about a queen of England, and Britian's version of Dancing with the Stars...on ice. I read the Sword in the Stone. Played with Benji the dog.
And in case you wonder how the Queen gets her exercise, I caught her on video doing a little dance!

Birmingham, England, I gotta say...is prettier and more interesting than the one in Alabama. It's just missing Master Yoda and Princess Leah...and some good ole southern BBQ.

Chatsworth House

The last thing on my Pinterest wish list was to see the Veiled Vestal Virgin sculpture. Sculpture has long been my favorite art form, and no one has penetrated the top favorites list in many years.

1. The Winged Victory of Samothrace

2. Michaelangelo's Slaves

3. The Hand of God by Rodin

4. Cupid and Psyche

I looked up where the Veiled Vestal Virgin is currently housed, and found that she is at the Chatsworth House, owned by the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire. As I haven't seen the new Pride and Prejudice film, I didn't have the P&P excitement that many of the tourists who go there had. I had excitement, never you worry...it just wasn't of the Mr. Darcy kind.

That's some house! I'm not a big fan of Versailles, so it doesn't take much for me to say, "This place is nicer than Versailles." But um, this place is so much nicer than Versailles.

This is the grand staircase. Grand indeed.
I saw this bathtub and thought, "What a gorgeous bathtub!"
Until I looked inside and saw 500+ years of grime.
Floating staircases!
Okay, so check out how small the doorknob was on that massive door! So funny!
I do love sculpture, but trompe l'oeils are quickly becoming a second love of mine. This one is of a door with what appears to be a violin hanging from it. There's no violin. It's all a trick. I love it!
So I've always loved sleigh beds and beds with curtains closing them in. Here's one that's both! What if I made that my guest bed for you? Would you love it? Creedance says she wouldn't.
How bout this library?! I don't know if I'd be able to concentrate to read while in there, because I'd be so enthralled with staring at the ceiling.
And then there she was. I was a little bummed that (a) she was behind a rope and I couldn't get nose to nose with her to really look at the amazingness of that veil and (b) she was in front of a window. Not only was she hard to get a photo of, but she was a little hard simply to see, the light behind her was so bright. The gift shop didn't have a postcard of her either. Only a L85 replica. I like her, but not that much!

I don't know much about sculpture. I was lousy at it when I took a pottery class once. But what I just can't even begin to figure out is how the face is carved behind the carved thin sheath of a veil. Crazy. Just crazy. Welcome to the top five favorites, Lady. You're so purdy.

Cotswolds

As I said in my last post, a good bit of the tourism I did on this trip to England (my 5th) was based on things I'd seen on Pinterest. One day, when I first joined Pinterest, I put the word "door" into the search engine and saw a picture of a door that looked like it was IN a tree. I pinned it into my "must go see someday." When Creedance asked what I wanted to see or do, I figured...let's see if we can figure out where that tree door is!

I googled "door in a tree, England." I found the image of the door, and learned that it was in Stow-on-the-Wold. So I changed the google search from "England" to "Stow-on-the-Wold," and there it was! Thank you, Google and Wikipedia. I love the internets.

We put the address for St. Edward's Parish Church into the GPS and headed towards the Cotswolds. Since Prince(ss) William had already told me that I should go to the Cotswolds, I was pretty excited to see this part of England that she loves so much. I could easily see why. So cute and quaint. So villagish. I love villagish.

What's not to love about Frog Benches?

And office buildings covered in lovely stones?

Or about streams and bridges and spring blossoming all along the way?

And thatched roofs?

We found the tree door. None of my pictures came out National Geographic Worthy. That's okay. The image of it is seared into my heart's eye. It is one of only three doors that I've ever gone and actually hunted down. (The others are THIS one in Paris, and THIS one is Sidi Bou.) I was enthralled by the trees, the blue and red glass above the door, the moss growing on the church, the so-soft-grass-I-wanted-to-lie-down-on-it all around the church. While the door itself is not as spectacular as some I've seen, the way the trees are grown into it are so unique and different, it won my heart. Welcome to top three favorites, Stow-on-the-Wold Door.

Afterwards, we popped into a tea room for some "cream tea." I thought that meant there was cream in the tea. No so! Cream tea means clotted cream (better than butter) and preserves on scones with tea.

That cream was so good I ordered a second scone and bought some cream to bring back to France with me. If you ever go to England, I recommend cream tea and the Cotswolds.

Better yet...cream team in the Cotswolds.

Gloucester Cathedral

When my friend, Creedance, asked me what I wanted to see/do while visiting her in England, I did a little search on the internet to find out what was around where she lived. Months before I ever even planned on going to England, I'd pinned a few things on Pinterest of places I'd like to go someday. Turned out three of the things I'd pinned were in driving distance of Birmingham! Yippee!

So we headed off to Gloucester Cathedral. Now, I am not normally one to want to go see a big European church. I've often said in the last fifteen years, "If you've see one big European church, you've pretty much seen them all. With a few exceptions." Exceptions like the Batalha in Portugal, Westminster Abbey in London, and Notre Dame in Paris, to name a few. Gloucester is an exception. I thought it would be because of the cloisters, but I found that it had more to offer than just the cloisters.

First, there was a very weird (and sometimes LOUD) art exhibit going on. I didn't really love most of the modern art...except for this maze of old books! Just my thing.

One of the things that really struck me was the floor in the room with the misericords (mercy seats for prayer and study). The floor told the story of the Old Testament in beautiful tiles. It was truly beautiful.
King Edward II is buried there. I didn't know who he was. I read about a paragraph of Wikipedia and realized...I don't care. He's no King Arthur.
And then...the cloisters. Oh, the cloisters. So spectacular! I just couldn't get enough of them.

We didn't really go see anything else in Gloucester. We had two more small villages to go see that day, so this was a "see the thing and run" visit. I'm so glad that we went though. I'll dream of those fan-vaults for months to come...

National Geographic Article

National Geographic featured a photographic article of Marseille this month, and I just think it's superb. It really shows the city as I feel I know it, with fantastic photos.

Click HERE to read it and HERE for the photo gallery.

My New Home

Several years ago, I was coming up the escalator of the Vieux Port Metro station, and I caught an overwhelming whiff of the fish market. However, instead of turning my nose up at it, I took a deep breath, and thought, "Ah...it smells like home."

Then I stopped dead in my tracks. I'd never thought that before. Never, once, in my whole life, have I thought of a place as "home." I moved too much to develop that concept, and never latched on emotionally to a place. "Home" has never been equal to a place for me. It's usually wherever my family is, even if I've never lived there.

So where did that thought of "home" come from all of a sudden, and why was it attached to the smell of the fish market at the Vieux Port? I thought it through and realized that nearly everywhere I've ever lived has been near water, and there were fresh fish markets: Chesapeake Bay, Maryland. South Korea. Alaska. Hawaii. Portugal. California. The UAE. Tunisia. Marseille.

Fresh fish is the only thing I've found so far that links all my homes. All bazillion of them. So now, every time I come up out of that metro and smell that smell, it warms my heart. I love coming up out of the Vieux Port Metro, and it's a good thing...because my new apartment is around the corner from it!

God is so good, He has blessed me with an apartment with a view of the Vieux Port! On the same street as the Starbucks! And a 10 minute walk from my work building. I simply couldn't ask for a better location! Below is the building. If you count three floors up from the non-business door in the middle, my apartment is the one with the shutters closed. The building is a Haussmann building, built in 1860. I love that.

Not only this building, but nearly all the buildings like it on the entire street are owned by a realty company who are working on beautifying Marseille. (Which means I don't have to deal with a particular proprietor, but directly with the agent assigned to me from this agency...and they all speak English there!) Anyway... They cleaned the outsides and restored the insides. They've been working on my apartment for the last six years! It's so amazing...they kept nearly all the old charm, but modernized what needed to be to bring it up to standards. So, when you walk in the locked front door on the street, there's a second locked door to come through, with video surveillance in the apartment to see who you're letting in the building!

And then! There's an elevator! (Alot of the old buildings in Marseille lack the beloved elevator.) This one is much like the canister elevator I wrote about in my last post, but it does at least fit two people (no more!)...or me and my grocery cart. That's all that matters to me!
The apartment has super high ceilings...and so even the front door is really high! Below you can see the pretty blue doors, with the realtor in front to give perspective of how high the ceilings are.
The apartment is really narrow and long. So when you walk in the front door, you see down the hallway the full length of the apartment. Along the hallway are closets, a bedroom, the toilet room, and the bathroom. You'll note the pretty hardwood floors.
What is supposed to be the spare bedroom is near the front door, and thus, in the back of the apartment...and VERY quiet. If I can get a queen bed in there, it'll be my bedroom. I may have to jump into the bed from the doorway, but I'm determined to have a grown up bed and that bed to be in that room. It's just so quiet, and since all I'll do in there is sleep, I want to save the bigger, prettier bedroom for office/quilting/guest room.
Next is the toilet room...with a sink in it! This was one of the things I really hoped for in an apartment. It's extremely rare. I'm so happy to have it!
Next is the bathroom. The shower is behind that wall...so there's no need for a shower curtain. The washer will go to the left of the sink, and I think I'll be able to fit the dryer in there too.
When you get to end of the hall, you hang a left and there is the kitchen. It's very modern looking compared to the rest of the place. The left hole will be where my oven/stove goes, and the right hole will be where the (eventual) dishwasher goes. You'll notice that there really is only counter space above the (eventual) dishwasher. And only three cabinets.
Thus, this other empty side of the kitchen is where the fridge and the counter/cabinets will need to go. And then I noticed the RADIATOR in the middle of the wall, right where I was hoping to put the fridge. That kitchen's going to be interesting, I tell you!
Then, oh then...the pretty. Are you ready for the pretty? Maybe you should sit down. This is the guest bedroom. So when you come to see me, this is where you will stay. Pretty old doors! Pretty fireplace! Pretty French windows! Pretty sunlight! And a (non-pictured) walk-in closet!
Not a great picture at all, but here is the living room. It has a second window. This picture does it no justice! It's so beautiful. I couldn't be happier with it! Oh wait. I could. Make the street out front pedestrian so there's no noise from all the vehicles. Then I'd fall over dead from pure joy. (And no, the fireplaces don't work.)
If you look up, you'll see the crown molding. Original. Oh my.
And last, but not least, the view from my living room window. Wowzah! Can you believe that? I'm still in shock. Happy shock.
Before I ever moved to France, I imagined French apartments would look like this. Then I got to France and never once saw one that looked like this and figured Hollywood must've created that image in my head. But here it is. And it's all mine.

I signed the lease today, pick up the keys tomorrow, do the walk-through on March 31st, and it's mine to move in on April 1st. Yippee! This truly is the "He is able to do more than we ask or imagine" home for me. For the first time in my life, I signed a lease for an apartment in my name. For the first time since Paris (I left in 2008), I'll be settling into a place to call my own. And at the age of 36, I am finally going to get to buy my own furniture and appliances. Praise the Good Lord! Thank Him with me, won't you!?