A Little Something

It is a little acknowledged but universally true fact that every girl has at some point in her life experienced a sudden fluttering in her chest the moment she sees a little object of something or another, that for a thoroughly inexplicable reason, has wholly and irrevocably captured her heart. "Oh my gosh, this. is. SO cute!". 

Immediately following our vacation at the end of August, we will move in once and for all to our new apartment! And so these days I've been scrolling along Le Marais, little streets filled with boutiques of every kind (especially home décor), contemplating which and what kind of arrangements would be appropriate for our new home. White or color picture frames? Paintings or modern art? Eclectic or matching? Wholly white silverware or with some fine detailing? It is really quite difficult shopping for a home you have yet to live in. 

While we bought most our furniture already during a massive trip to Ikea last week (we decided on the two primary colors so far: white and wood. It's going to be contemporary on the modern side with a splash of light wood hues), I'm still scoping out where I can buy the little things.

I love things that have meaning, so everytime I look at them, it reminds me of a moment or event in my life that made me feel something. This diffuser that I bought on Tuesday is small and simple, but it will always remind me of three things: 1) my friend in New York, 2) the girl at Jo Malone, and 3) that things are always better when you wait for them.

Diffuser for the Home: English Pear & Freesia by Jo Malone

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I was first introduced to Jo Malone by a friend in New York, who begged me to smell the scents at their store. I had a coup de foudre with English Pear & Freesia, which reminded me of a little girl playing with clean linens her mother had just washed. It was so simple, fresh, and pure, not to mention the gorgeous black and white packaging with a small black bow. I left that day thinking I already had one too many perfumes. 

Many months later, I was now in Paris, and saw their stores everywhere. Each time I would go in and smell the scents, but would never buy it. I never had a reason.

Finally, this week, it was an Asian girl working there who greeted me. Soft spoken and with a lovely smile, she had none of the motives of a typical sales person. She was genuinely interested in sharing the scents with me, and we began talking. I soon learned that she was a student studying in Paris, just like me. We also liked many of the same things. 

When I couldn't decide on the perfume, I saw the room diffuser that was the perfect décor item for our new apartment. A scent in the foyer that I'll come home to everyday and be able to share with W and friends (who come over for tea, hehe). And even though the girl and I never exchanged contact information, I know I'll never forget her. 

And what do you know, I scented our room that night and W absolutely ADORED it!

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August in Paris: Musées and Soirées

Flâner [French; verb]: The act of wandering or strolling down the streets, with no particular aim in mind, always with an air of cultural and intellectual curiosity but never without a Parisian kind of cool detached nonchalance. 

Only in Paris is it entirely acceptable to forever indulge in the pleasures of life, so much that August has unofficially become the vacation month of the year, whereby every family (regardless of one's economic situation) all leave for at least two weeks of proper vacation. 

And so August in Paris is a quiet time (minus the tourists) of nothing but sunshine, cafés, brunches, cinemas, and of course, musées and soirées.

cafés on the Seine

Friday night, we went to a close friend of W's for some drinks. After climbing up an elegant wooden staircase with sultry red carpeting (typical of most Parisian residences), we entered an intimate setting of dim lights and light chatter. It was a small gathering of about ten people. A few guys were whisking up drinks, while by the large window sat the girls on a big red couch, puffing smoke elegantly from their bright red lips. They appeared to be in midst of some discussion, occasionally raising their eyebrows and shrugging while speaking rapid French. French girls have this way of making you curious about their conversation yet at the same time timid about approaching them. 

T and M introduced me to their friends, which meant exchanging kisses with each of them on both cheeks. After some brief introductions, I grabbed a stick with tomatoes, cheese and sausage, and started munching on it. Conversation was light, and I managed to produce some basic French, noting happily that no one has yet elected to switch to English. Someone handed me a cocktail, and then it was just nothing but quiet, intimate talk. We climbed up to the roof a bit later (which felt sneaky because it's forbidden). With a beautiful view of Paris' lights at nightfall, we sat there slightly tipsy in relaxed conversation. 

~ * ~ * ~

Despite our love of soirées and flâner-ing, W and I woke up the next day bright and early, with a list of scheduled (fun, cultural, foodie) activities I had already scouted out during the week (W is actually very unFrench in his way of sharing my obsessive needs to plan and be productive, much to the perplexity of his friends). 

So we checked off the list one-by-one: tennis, swimming, museums, brunch, furniture shopping, and more...museums (and expos).

galleries/museums

Paris is a capital of art and museums, everything from the traditional to contemporary, eclectic to the avant-garde. Arts and culture is so heavily subsidized by the government (unsurprisingly) that museums are free the first Sunday of the month (or otherwise a mere 10 euros for most places), and sport activities are equally cheap (4 euros for swimming, 7 euros for an hour of tennis court time!!). And..there are more discounts for people under 26. Yup, it's ridiculous.

So we went to:

• The "Motion Factory" Expo at Gaité Lyrique, which gave us awesome behind-the-scenes footage of how short animated films are made.
• Musée de Quai Branley, an architectural masterpiece with a wonderful collection of artifacts from all around the world: Asia, Oceania, Americas, and Europe. We were also in time for the "Tiki Pop" expo, which displayed in a richly explained timeline of how the wave of tiki culture obsession swept through California in the mid 20th century. 
• The "L'Etat du Ciel" Expo at Palais de Tokyo, another architectural inspiration. The expo itself was pretty dark with topics such as the end of human civilization. It was different, unexpected, and all very thought provoking. 

Musée Jacquemart-André

I finally stumbled upon number 158 on Boulevard Haussmann, a street full of handsome residences I could only dream of living in one day. Only a small red banner tucked behind the trees indicated signs of this little musée, as if it didn't want to be found. Oh, subtlety, even when being pretentious, has always been such a French thing. 

a small red banner of the museum

path leading to the entrance of the mansion

The end of July marks the second month that I've been in the City of Lights. When I haven't been traveling, I've been strolling the streets, getting to know each arrondissement and its personality. Today, apartment affairs took me to the 8th for the signing of dossiers, so I had the opportunity to explore this very proper part of Paris with mostly large office buildings and elegant residences.

In the very French tradition (of secret passages and courtyards), the grand entrance of the mansion was tucked away in the back, led by a path from what one would believe to be very typical French front doors off Boulevard Haussmann. 

Édouard André and wife Nelie were the sole owners of this residence. They had no children, but as passionate and knowledgeable patrons of art, spent their whole lives collecting Venetian, Dutch, and Flemish paintings, tapestry and statues to collect in this home.

foyer/entry room

green room

The décor and rooms all reflect an aristocrat's life in 18th century France: Édouard was born into a Protestant banking family. Nelie, however, I will let you discover on your own as to where she came from. :)

The home reminded me much of the Newport Mansions in Rhode Island, USA. Unlike art in homes there however, which were bought in entire collections (just to reflect one's wealth), the paintings in Jacquemart-André were a life's worth of work, curated by far more knowledgeable patrons who devoted themselves to art. 

details on the ceiling of the Salon

elegant staircases

the two story grand ballroom, 16th century tapestries on the second floor

The first surprise of the mansion came with the sheer size and grandeur of it all. Property is incredibly expensive in Paris, and the fact that this mansion still stands today on one of the most sought after streets is quite incredible (most of the mansions along 5th ave in NYC have long been destroyed to pave way for modern infrastructure). 

And the second surprise? The incredible variety in rooms. I won't spoil it with photos, but from green rooms to libraries, ballrooms to studies, rooms for art collections to actual residential bedrooms, this property has it all. 

Oh, and if you're looking for some afternoon sun. Here are some free benches just in front of the museum. :)

Tips:

1. This is a gem of a museum in Paris. Go during the weekdays to avoid crowds.

2. The visit comes with an audio guide for free, and takes about 1.5 hours.

3. Come early in the afternoon so you can have some afternoon tea in the lovely, parisian, highly-rated café afterwards.

4. Admission: 10 Euros for students/ 12 Euros for others

Bordeaux Vineyards

"We cannot talk about Bordeaux wine without talking about ze terroir," our tour guide articulated proudly with her thumb and index fingers together, stressing the r's (arhhhh's) in her last word. "Bordeaux's vineyards are deeh-vided into 60 appellations (regions) of 284,000 acres. Each type of wine is adapt-zeed to its region and...terroir (-arhh). You cannot make Margaux wine in Saint-Émilion. No no! You must make Margaux wine in Marrhhgaux. The Margaux wine varieties have been adapted to ze terroir (-arhhhh). Any-zing else will be no good." She looked at us. "You understand?"

It was a 45-min drive from downtown Bordeaux to the Châteaux (literally castle, but here meaning entities of vineyards, usually 100-150 acres, owned and operated separately either by families or now, modern day companies of shareholders). On many of these vineyards still sit castles of all sorts, which back then hosted the families who owned them as country estates away from the city. 

One of the real Château's on the Château

Today, we were just 20 miles northwest of the city of Bordeaux, in the region of Margaux, famous for producing some of the best red wines in the world (or should I say ze :P).

As we drove past hundreds of acres of vineyards, we learned that Romans first planted them 3000 years ago. During this extraordinarily long history, the wine varieties such as Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot and Malbec, were especially created for the specific terrain of Bordeaux. And so despite being planted elsewhere in the world, they will never produce as well as here in France.

My immediate impression was that the vines all appeared much shorter than I had imagined, just 1-2 meters above ground. Apparently, because Bordeaux wines are known to last a long time (up to 3-4 decades), this requires that the juice be more concentrated than others, to allow for the gradual thinning of taste without loss of body or flavor. To accomplish this, Bordeaux vines are pruned extraordinarily short, resulting in the production of much less, but far more concentrated juice.

Bordeaux Vineyards - it's hard to get a picture just driving! They are highly protected from people walking through them (mostly forbidden) to ensure the highest of quality.

In a country obsessed with everything natural (GMO's are banned entirely), it's not a surprise that Bordeaux vineyards are never irrigated. This is called the hydro-stress method, which forces vines to grow enormous roots of 8-12 meters into the ground to find water. The average around the world is just 3-4 meters.

Château Margaux's facilities for fermentation

Most châteaux produce their wines on site, from harvesting to fermentation to aging. And so in these enormous barrels (many of which are now steel instead of wood to facilitate cleaning), the grapes are canned for fermentation. 

It was surprising to see how clean and high-tech these facilities were. In Margaux, drones are used to take pictures of the vineyards from above to differentiate the already ripe grapes from those still needing some time. 

And of course the aging process, which takes place in these oak barrels (each of which costs up to 900 euros, and changed every couple of years), helps to add that wonderful oak flavor to the red wine. 

Oak Barrels for aging

And the most important thing that I learned on my tour? That a wine from Bordeaux is never just a Cabernet, or a Merlot. It's always always a blend, and named only after its appellation. So next time you see a wine named Merlot, you know it's definitely not from Bordeaux (or France)!

We went on the Ophorus Wine Tour, which was excellent.

This post is part of the 12-day, 5-city Eurotrip in July 2014.

The Ubiquitous Quarter Life Crisis

"The problem with our generation is that we are too impatient," N said. We were in a cab driving west along the Seine. "We are too damn impatient, to be rich, to be successful, to have it all in life, when all of that takes time."

I looked at her, this gorgeous 25-yr-old petite Asian girl, an art curator for the Singapore government who was traveling every three months to Paris for her projects, absolutely speechless. She had summed up in just one sentence, the single greatest cause of failure that will plague our generation, the first generation in history that may end up less well-off than our parents. 

The Bubble

We, our generation, grew up in a time of peace and prosperity, the richest this world has ever been, in a bubble surrounded by loving parents, teachers and relatives, who told us nothing but yes. Yes sweetie, you can have it, you can have it all. You're so smart, you can do anything, the world is your oyster!

But what they don't tell us is that no, it is not easy; no, it is not immediate; no, you will not be handed a job on a silver platter after graduation; no, med school is not like Grey's Anatomy, nor is law like Suits, nor is business like Wall Street. And no, you will not be the boss at your first job and have major responsibility and ohhhh, change the world. No, you are at the bottom of the career ladder, nothing but a replaceable piece of nothing. No, to get far in your career, any career, you have to pay. You have to earn it. And the first prerequisite for paying and earning it? Time.

The Myth

So why are we so hard with ourselves? So impatient? Because information today is moving at faster rate than ever before. Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, Flipboard (you name it) feed us everyday with news - news of success everywhere around the world. And in psychology, this is the availability bias, whereby such readily available information gives us the false impression of a world in which success is ubiquitous, and therefore easily obtainable. When in reality, the probability of such successes is one in a million.

Does that mean that we are doomed to a life of shitty work starting at the bottom of the career ladder? That we must hate our jobs before we can love it? Not necessarily.

Giving time also means time for ourselves, to develop our interests, to find our strengths and weaknesses, to understand how we can best be of use to our world (because after all, you are only as successful as you are useful - sad but true). But growing up, we were always taught to be well-rounded, to take an interest in everything. So what if nothing really interests us?

The Right Question

Well, we have been asking the wrong question all along. We cannot wait mindlessly for something to interest us (because hate to break it to yah, but things are not people - they won't just come up to you and ask you out on a date). But rather, we must go out and seek out the things that may interest us. Just like how a terrible soccer player will never love soccer (but a good soccer player may very well love it), we love what we are good at. And we cannot be good at doing something without first learning. And learning takes time. 

For sure, some things will come more easily to some than others. And so here is where we must do what our ancestors have always done since the dawn of civilization - specialize. We must specialize and do what we are good at, because sorry - but if you can only make two clay pots per hour and your friend can make three, everyone will hire your friend and fire you. 

Specializing

The first step to finding the right specialization is exploring - indulging in learning and soaking up information around you. What are some observations you've made about our society? How could you contribute to make our world a better place? How can you use your skills to produce a good that society would want? What skills do you need to accomplish those goals? How can you acquire them?

The second is to try, and fail. Seek out an internship, try a part-time job, talk to a mentor in the industry, and see what it's really like to be in the field. Now ask yourself - are you using your absolute best skills? Do tasks in this area come easier to you than for others? Perhaps you love reading/writing and can produce works faster others (writer, journalist); perhaps you are very detail-oriented and enjoy being meticulous (accountant); perhaps you're very good at communication and enjoy solving interpersonal problems (human resources); or perhaps you love fashion and can easily put together outstanding outfits from anything in minutes (fashion)....the list goes on. If so, then you've find the right job. If not, keep looking. It's okay to fail.

Oh, time. Time we don't want to spend.

And finally, the last step is to remember that everything, everything takes time, even the things that we excel at, really excel at, always excelled at. It will be hard, and we may hate it from time to time. But as long as we are learning and growing in our chosen path, we can be sure that one day, yes, one day, we can and will be great at what we do.

Oh, we just need time. 

The Five Villages of Cinqueterre

The train emerged from the dark tunnel, and we gasped as the enormous pacific ocean came into full view. Getting off the train, signs indicated a 5-minute bus ride or 365-step stairs climb (20 floors) to our village, called Corneglia. 

Corneglia was the smallest of all five villages, collectively (and appropriately) called Cinqueterre, a mountainous region off the western coast of Italy, 265 miles north of Rome. 

Just one main road connected all the village’s inhabitants along the cliffs of the mountain, with yellow, pink, and orange architecture that contrasted vibrantly with the lush green forests and aqua blue ocean. 

Upon entering our host's home, a white-haired Italian couple welcomed us with bear hugs and passionate Italian. Between M’s Spanish and my French, we managed, albeit very slowly, to decipher the basics, such as how to get to the ocean and where and when we were to have breakfast the next morning.

Hiking was the first thing on our agenda. An 8-hr hiking trail in the mountains connected all five villages. Unfortunately, 3 of the 4 trails were closed due to landslides, so we decided to take the train to Vernazza to hike to Monterosso. 

Riomaggiore, Cinqueterre

After sharing a plate of the local speciality pasta Trofie served in delicious pesto sauce, we followed signs through tiny alleyways and eventually a steep dirt path that wrapped around the mountain. We left at 6:30pm, hoping that we could make it out to Montecarlo just around sunset. 

It was a steep climb with narrow pathways on the outer edge of the mountain. The weather was perfect in the low 70s and not too humid. We stopped for pictures here and there, but were amazed that the view only got better.

Vernazza, Cinqueterre

Slowly, the village of Vernazza faded into the distance, and disappeared as we turned a corner. It was beginning to get darker and cooler, and we found ourselves alone, just the enormous mountains and ocean around us, and no people or civilization in sight. We continued along, now less talkative, focusing on getting across to the other side. 

on the hike from Vernazza to Monterosso

“J, look!” M gasped as she pointed at a small stray tabby with wild eyes, meowing at us for food*. We only had a precious bottle of water on us, and so looked at her sadly and continued on. 

After a few more ascends and descents, we finally saw a house here and there in the mountains, hinting at civilization. A soft rustling in the shrubs next to me caught my attention, and a lizard climbed out and disappeared again. 

After dark tunnels through forests, a bridge over a small waterfall, and hundreds of steps of descent, we finally arrived at Monterosso, greeted by a posh modern French restaurant overlooking the ocean, the perfect evening reward for our hike. 

Vernazza, Cinqueterre

* Don't worry, we discovered their food later along the path. The villages' inhabitants made sure that these wild cats were well-fed. :)

This post is part of the 12-day, 5-city Eurotrip in July 2014. 

Florence, Italy

After a mere hour and a half flight from Paris, we landed in Florence, Italy, leaving beige cream colored aristocratic French architecture for the red roofs, tan walls, and artisan creations of the Great Renaissance.

A small city set in the valleys of mountains by the river, Florence is much smaller than it appears on map, and entirely walkable by foot.

After munching on our first Italian pizza in a small mom and pop restaurant and devouring a huge cup of tiramisu and raspberry flavored gelato, we wandered towards the river. 

Situated on top of the Pinto Veccio bridge were actual buildings, once home to goldsmiths of the medieval ages, but now jewelry boutiques of every kind. 

Our next stop was the Bibboli Gardens just behind the Pitti Palace, which were built on raised grounds with views of the city below. The expansive lands of these grand, beautifully sculpted gardens contrasted with the rest of the city’s small winding alleys and streets. 

and so we walked up...

and up...

and up!!! :)

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We slept lazily until noon the next day, and keeping with the slower pace of life in Europe, took our time brunching well into the afternoon. 

After brunch was the Uffizi Art Gallery...and then a short hike to the top of Piazzale Michaeleganlo, a plateau with stunning views of the entire city from the east. 

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After some olives and red wine with the magnificent view below, we walked back down west along the river, with the sunset before us casting long warm shadows on the ground. We sat down on a bench, gelatos in hand, and listened to the music of a songstress singing nearby.

This post is part of the 12-day, 5-city Eurotrip in July 2014. 

Parisian Blog Scene

I arrived for the Wine & Cheese soirée at La Vinotheque in the 1st arrondisement, an event organized by Native Native for Paris expat bloggers. This was my introduction to the Parisian blog scene, and I was about to discover just how big it really was. Paris, after all, is the perfect city to blog about art, history, fashion, food, life, travel and adventures abroad.

Today's soirée featured a wine and cheese tasting presented by Parisian startup Les Nouveaux Fromagers, a cheese subscription service that delivers different high-quality cheese each month, no doubt the perfect solution to many here's cheese obsession.  

www.lesnoueauxfromagers.fr

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One by one, eight other bloggers arrived, many of them already famous for their works, whether it be writing, fashion or photography. I met the very chic Ylena from Mexico, whose fashion blog Ambiteuse follows her as she makes her mark in the fashion industry; Jennifer from the US, who's famous for reviewing more than 200 types of cheeses on Chez Lou Lou; Lillian from Maylasia who's fluent in French, English, Chinese and Malay, and loves to explore life's adventures in Paris and beyond; and Ella from New York, who will be coming out with a book soon about her crazy Parisian adventures from robberies and expired-visas to dead-end jobs and embarrassing break-ups. I soon learned that there was a network of hundreds of bloggers in Paris. What I was seeing was just the surface. 

The tasting began as the co-founder of Les Nouveaux Fromagers introduced to us in French his work. He had gone to one of the top business schools in Paris, worked in Media strategy, and then quit his job to create his own startup (yes, there were some uncanny similarities). The night continued on and as I learned about the stories of other bloggers, I felt nothing but inspiration. 

Here I was with so many young professionals, many of whom left their home countries to follow their dreams. Whether it be launching a startup, creating an organization, writing a book, or pursuing fashion or photography, they had found their niche and excelled at what they do. With the advent of technology and social media, they are among a new generation of artists and writers, whose work represents the culture, experiences and ideologies of today's generation.

As I looked around, I thought about where I was heading with my career. In many ways, all careers are similar in that you must capitalize on your strengths, find something that truly interests you, and consume yourself with your work. But most importantly, it is the understanding that the best way to predict the future is to create it yourself, and that we are all capable of making our marks - to do good, create value, and give back to our world. Oh, and have a hell of a time while doing it, bien sûr.

Paris

I finished my morning French class and joined W near his work at L'Opera for lunch. We sat down at a posh new-concept Italian restaurant with wood and metal interiors that gave the place a modern yet earthy feel. The entire exterior wall had collapsed and opened like a window, allowing in so much sunlight that it felt like we were on a terrace.

We ordered a delicious tomato mozzarella thin crust pizza and pasta salad to share, then proceeded to poke fun at eachother until the food arrived (apparently now our favorite past time, because well, being nice is just not fun). I demanded that we speak in French, and was surprised by how easily my sentences were forming. I had only been here for two weeks, yet the mentality of a permanent move has given me such enormous motivation that I jump at every opportunity to speak. Even when alone, I find myself sounding out phrases and new expressions, obsessively listening and correcting for pronunciation.

W and I parted after lunch, and I headed back to the 6th arrondisement, an area by Jardin du Luxembourg filled with beautiful 17th century architecture and boutiques. The weather had been extraordinary since my arrival, with nothing but glorious sunshine at a constant low-70s weather everyday. I had never seen Paris bathed in such warm sunlight from morning to night, with days so long that darkness would not fall until nearly 11pm. This made for wonderful outdoor dinners and festivities that lasted well into night (the music festival was just last week). 

As I walked around the area window shopping, I felt oddly comfortable and at ease. For sure, language barriers led to moments of frustration and anxiety, dealing with French paperwork and processes prevented all my efforts at efficiency, and there were inevitable moments of angry ruthless comparison to other cities. But I was adapting and the city was growing on me. 

It's imperative to keep an open mind, I told myself, and to understand that Paris may never offer what New York had given me, and I should never force upon it what it is not and cannot be. But if I am willing to learn, discover and love it with my heart, it is more than capable of granting me the most extraordinary experiences beyond my wildest dreams.