Hello lovelies! I hope you all enjoyed the weekend and are refreshed and ready to face the week…
As for me, the two are barely distinguished from each other, except for the fact that the weekend contains Shutday, by which I mean Sunday, and I have to plan my days accordingly. Over here, it’s every man for himself on the Lord’s day – you have to make your own entertainment. Generally, though, my days consist of job searching, watching tv, sewing and reading magazines. And blogging, as you can tell! Today I have some more photos of Luxembourg for you :) Our first day there was fun and ridiculous (did you see the photos?), but we didn’t formally visit any of the historically significant sights the country has to offer, so on Sunday we did just that. The weather was still gloomy and a little damp, but not enough to send us running for cover like we had the previous afternoon. Continue reading
Did you know Luxembourgish is a real language? I guess it says a lot about my blundering approach to travel that I didn’t even research what language they speak in our weekend destination; but aside from the fact that the official language is not French as I had assumed, doesn’t it seem like it should be called Luxembourgese or Luxemburger or something instead?
Whatever they choose to call their language, we got along fine without it: gesturing to your camera and pointing at yourselves tends to get the message across.
PREVIOUSLY ON ‘A TRAIL OF BREADCRUMBS’…
Before the trouble began...
So our schedule was this: Saturday-Tuesday in Florence, Tuesday-Friday in Rome, overnight train to Milan to spend our Saturday urban camping before our overnight bus back to Strasbourg. We finished up Wednesday last time, where I hinted at a complication involving Nicole’s health following my own iffy spell: we hadn’t exactly been treating our bodies right, sightseeing and budget taking precedence over such trifles as, you know, nutrition and sustenance. But while a solid dinner and a good night’s sleep healed me up good and proper, Nicole woke feeling unwell. I’m sorry to say I brushed off her first complaints with a “You’ll be fine once we’re up and about,” but it was more than that: Nicole was ill for real, not just queasy.
Comparatively, Sunday was much more low-key than Saturday had been. We slept in, took our time getting ready, and dawdled downtown with Elizabeth to the Art Institute. They had a Matisse exhibition going on, which I really enjoyed, and a lot of other cool stuff which I loved at the time but really don’t remember much about… I was comforted by how often I managed to identify the artist of paintings I didn’t recognise, though! I didn’t realise I knew so much about art. We’d also booked an architectural tour of Chicago at 3:30 though, so we legged it out of the Art Institute and had a quick lunch (chicken pot pie, nom nom nom) before heading down to the river for our boat tour. Continue reading