Art Nouveau Nancy

As mentioned, the main bit of sightseeing we got up to in Nancy was a visit to the Musée de l'Ecole de Nancy, dedicated to the history of Art Nouveau in Nancy. Art Nouveau's not something I was particularly knowledgeable about. It developed in the late 19th-early 20th centuries, emerging (if I'm reading my sources correctly) pretty much in parallel in different countries around the world. In France, the Ecole de Nancy came after that of Paris, but was particularly innovative and influential, and Nancy can be considered the Art Nouveau capital of France.

Art Nouveau is characterised particularly by its use of fluid, natural forms, drawing inspiration from the natural world and incorporating elements inspired by plants, insects and animals. This helps to distinguish it from the more angular, geometric Art Deco which followed.

Another important element of Art Nouveau was the idea of "total" art, i.e. utilising a range of media from architecture to graphic design to ceramics to cabinet-making, rather than restricting the concept of "art" to painting or sculpture. The museum emphasised the idea that these pieces were originally intended as affordable art: mass-produced prints and glassware, etc., allowing even the most utilitarian object to be a work of art. It's a hard concept to get your head around these days, as certainly the museum pieces do not look anything like what we would imagine as cheap, mass-produced goods in any era. I imagine your Victorian factory workers were not coming home and putting their feet up in an Art Nouveau armchair, but perhaps these pieces were more in the range of a middle-class family than objets d'art would have been in previous centuries.

The museum is laid out in the home of the collector Eugène Corbin (although the collections and arrangement do not necessarily reflect what he would have had in his lifetime). I think it was a really good idea to use the home-style layout rather than a more typical museum look. It really helped to emphasise the ideas of "total" art, as you could see idealised versions of Art Nouveau bedrooms, dining rooms, etc. Even most of the cabinets used to display pieces of glassware and other decorative objects were mostly works of art in themselves.

I was probably largely indifferent to Art Nouveau before visiting the museum: sure, I thought it was pretty, from what I'd seen of it, but I wouldn't have called myself a fan. I probably still wouldn't go as far as that - my tastes for modern art lean more towards the abstract and geometric - but visiting the museum definitely gave me a greater appreciation for the movement. I kept thinking that my mum would love it too - she always enjoys decorative arts and design, such as the museum we visited in Oslo.

Pretty Art Nouveau building in Nancy. We couldn't find a park near the museum, which was lucky since it meant we stumbled across a beautiful street of Art Nouveau houses

My favourite room in the museum

Swanky bed

A more simplistic side of Art Nouveau

I loved how upstairs they displayed some glassware in window boxes. I've never seen this before, but it's a great idea!

Jules liked the wooden room too

A souvenir of the 1915-1916 school year from the city of Nancy. One would think it would be pretty etched in your memory regardless

Some pretty stained glass

Nature-inspired vase against the backdrop of the museum gardens

Other than that, I'm tired and stressed trying to work out the move. For some reason, all the quotes I'm getting from movers are way over budget and under-delivering on services, even though they are all meant to have agreed on fixed price limits with my new workplace. I know, I know, first world problems blah blah blah, but it really does cost a horrific amount of money to move and I feel like I'm banging my head against the wall trying to get it to budget at the moment.

My train home yesterday was delayed by half an hour, and on Thursday it was delayed *two hours*. So not fun. I'm really counting the days (not too fast though, because everything isn't organised yet) till I'm outta here - the upcoming trip to Majorca should help!

Nancy girl

This is mostly a post about Nancy (the city), but let's wrap up a few other things I've been up to lately. For Easter, I went to Jules's mum's place, where I had the pleasure of meeting half his family all at the same time. Which is obviously a massive treat and not at all scary. I lie, it was scary, I awkwardly shook his mum's hand and didn't know what to do with myself most of the time. Luckily everyone (while making an effort to speak English with me) spoke amongst themselves in Luxembourgish most of the time, so while that meant my presence at the table was mostly ornamental, it also meant I couldn't make too much of an idiot of myself. Jules theorised that they were more afraid of (speaking English with) me than I was of them, which makes me sound a bit like a spider, but I'll take it. Seriously though, everyone was very nice, it didn't go terribly, and it was nice to have something to do at Easter for the first time in many a year.

On the other hand, I have seen Jules's mum assembling a gun in her living room (I kid you not), so I think maybe I need to be on my best behaviour around her! I think that's the first time I've seen a gun not wielded by a police officer, and even then it freaks me out. Bit weird!

Over Easter, we also went for a walk around Luxembourg's Lac de la Haute Sûre, which Jules informs me is just known as "the lake" to the natives, since it's pretty much the only one in the country. It amuses me that it's the only one and it's not even a real lake - it's man-made for electricity generation. No offence, but Luxembourg, while pleasant, is a pretty featureless place. They found like a claw from a dinosaur recently - the first ever found in the country - and it was front-page news. The lake is pretty though, although most of the bit we walked around unfortunately had too many trees to really get a good view of it.

At the lake

Last weekend we decided to take advantage of perhaps the first genuinely hot and sunny weekend of the year to take a daytrip to nearby Nancy. It really was a lovely day, and Nancy is really charming. We saw the Musée de l'Ecole de Nancy (separate post to follow), the Basilique Saint-Epvre, Place Stanislas and the Parc de la Pépinière, but I felt like we just scratched the surface of what there is to see in the city.

The Basilique Saint-Epvre is a 19th-C neo-gothic structure filled with some really lovely stained-glass windows. I think some of the windows may have been done by the Art Nouveau artists of the Ecole de Nancy.

Basilique Saint-Epvre

Ferdinandus O'Gorman is improbable enough a name as it is, let alone featuring in a stained-glass window in Eastern France

We had lunch in the regal (or, rather, ducal) Place Stanislas, which I recently saw featured in a list of the best places to have an apéritif in France. Most importantly, though, number one on that list was Place Plumereau in Tours, booyah! Place Stanislas is definitely more visually impressive, but it's also huge. Whereas Place Plumereau, in summer, is completely filled with café tables, and there are cafés, restaurants and bars on all sides, in Place Stanislas there are only a couple of café/restaurants on one side, with a relatively small space given to their tables. So I've got to agree that Place Plumereau probably takes this one out, although Place Stanislas is definitely a nice place to take some photos and enjoy a drink in the sunshine.

It took forever to get photos by the fountain, by the way. We arrived like 2 seconds behind this group of tourists, who remained completely oblivious to the fact that we obviously wanted to take photos too, and kept sitting on the fountain for about 10 minutes. Grrr.

Place Stanislas

Alley leading into Place Stanislas

Finally a photo with the fountain

Proof that Jules is taller than me. I did think he was, but for some reason thought only by a couple of inches and wouldn't believe him when he said he was c. 6 foot. PS someone got a little bit of a red shoulder while having lunch

Gates on the other side of Place Stanislas

It's been five years

Well, to be exact, as of today it's been 4 years, 7 months and 3 days since I moved to France in September 2009. But that (plus six weeks or so) is going to have to do. I'm not going to make it to that magical 5 year mark where you can apply for French citizenship (I wasn't 100% sold on that anyway), because it's time to say au revoir France...

...and bonjour Belgium! Hello frites, yummy chocolate and endless rain (apparently) and adding a sixth country to the list of places I've lived. As of mid-June some time, I'll be on the move again (sigh), this time for hopefully a bit of a longer run in the same place - Brussels. My last move, a mere eight months ago, was so traumatic that I had zero interest in moving again any time soon (despite hating my apartment and the mega-commute), but a fantastic opportunity came up (hence my January trip to Brussels) which was way too good to say no to.

I had more-or-less settled in to commuting for around 1.5 hours each way, and my work for the first few months of the year was a lot more interesting (I'm back to deathly boredom now), but the new job offers so much more financially, in lifestyle terms and (hopefully) in the kind of work I'll be doing. Ever since I've known I'm moving, it's been more and more of a drag when the alarm goes off at 5.45 every day and when I stumble back in my front door at 8.30 pm. After working 40-hour weeks with 15 hours' commuting time, 38 hours plus about 5 hours' commute a week will be a breeze! As well as being character-forming, having to go through tough times of whatever description also helps you to appreciate any upturn in fortune.

Plus the payrise means I could shop around for somewhere I really wanted to live. Absolute non-negotiables: a balcony/terrace/garden and a bathtub. I've been dreaming for years of having some kind of outdoor space, and having a bath (with book, music and glass of wine) is one of my absolute favourite things to do whenever I'm in a hotel or wherever. I never quite had the budget to find exactly what I wanted before, so this time I didn't want to compromise. Jules and I spent last weekend in Brussels, and I've lined one up that ticks all the boxes, and is in what seems to be the perfect neighbourhood, balancing distance from work and the city, amenities, quietness etc. Happy days!

Talking of Jules (who reads the blog, so this is a bit weird), that's the part that's obviously not so great. I was waiting to hear back about the job before we met, and after a few good dates I kind of rolled my eyes and thought "I bet I'll get the job now, that'd be typical". It's almost a cliché that you meet someone when you're not looking (I wasn't - despite it being online, I had taken my photos down, which is basically man-repellent) or when circumstances are going to make things awkward. Sure enough, I got the news after we'd been dating for a few weeks, just before the trip to Cologne. I had planned on waiting until afterwards to tell him, so as not to spoil the weekend, but in the car conversation turned to my job (level of interest therein) and what my long-term plans were, and by the time we got to the hotel I was wracked with guilt and had to break it to him.

He took it very calmly. He's a calm guy, so that's not a big surprise, but after only going out for a few weeks, it would have been reasonable on his part to decide he wasn't into the prospect of a long-distance thing and that it was easier to pull the plug there and then. Which would have been a tad awkward stuck together in Cologne. But, happily, we decided to see how things went over the next 2 1/2 months or so until I left, and then... Brussels isn't that far from Luxembourg, really. It's still only been two months, but things are going well, so hopefully it'll be okay. I think the fact that we already don't live in the same city will help the transition, although I'll miss being able to catch up in the week for a drink after work.

So, I'm super excited! The stress is starting to kick in a little bit now too. It should be much less chaotic than last time (I can hire professional movers for starters), but with the added complications of being an international move to worry about. Who knows how things work in Belgium? And, naturally, I already have trips to Mallorca and Tours lined up for the end of May/beginning of June to suck money out of my bank account and time out of my schedule, but hey, there are worse problems!

I'm a bit sorry that, mostly due to those long hours, I haven't really got to know Metz at all. The last eight months have flown by at warp speed, I swear. The bi-country work/home balance is difficult to maintain: very hard to make friends in Metz, where I was never home, and I'd be tired at the end of the day in Luxembourg and just have to rush off to the train anyway. I still have a little time (moving formalities and holidays notwithstanding) to tick a couple of things like the Pompidou Metz off the list, and I'll be coming back to Luxembourg to see Jules, so all is not lost.

The worst hangover food in the world

Let's go back in time a bit to my trip to Rouen, all the way back in February (where does the time go?) Last time, I shared with you the wholesome sightseeing and gastronomic explorations we got up to, but we all know a girls' weekend isn't a girls' weekend without a few shenanigans.

We managed to head out quite early by our standards (thus avoiding the torturous search for a restaurant that was still serving after 10 pm that we had in Nantes), and for some reason ended up in a "ham cave" (sounds slightly classier in French). Unsure why, since in general I don't really like ham, but it's true that if I'm going to have ham, I do quite like the fancy Spanish variety (champagne tastes and all). I think we were mostly attracted by the cute pig logo and the opportunity to just graze a bit rather than eating a big meal. We ordered a cheese and a charcuterie platter, which looked quite small, but we were there for literally hours snacking away and didn't finish either of them, despite them both being very good.

As the night wore on, the restaurant got emptier and emptier until it was just us (caterwauling away to Bohemian Rhapsody) and the table next to us. We kept thinking "we're okay to stay as long as there's one other table, we're not bothering the staff" until eventually we realised that the other table were their mates. Luckily by this time we'd managed to make friends with the waiter, and much like our trip to Toulouse, the doors were locked and soon the free drinks were flowing with our new chums. Why do we only seem to end up best mates with bartenders on holiday though?

Awww, heart! I tried to do the heart symbol but it interpreted it as broken HTML and wouldn't let me

There were many, many blurry selfies

It took me quite some time to understand this photo the first time I saw it on my tiny camera screen. Who's the blonde?

Making new friends

After a little playing on the dumbwaiter connecting the restaurant with the cellar, it was time to hit a club with our new friends. Fun was had, and then at some point around 3 or 4 am, we very sensibly decided to head home. Problem being that we had no idea where we were, and I'm not convinced we didn't just head off in a random direction for quite some time before it occurred to us to consult a map. After a slight unbloggable detour involving a spot of light party-crashing, we managed to find our way back to the hotel by about 7 am, by which time I'd been awake for more than 24 hours, so a wee lie-down was much appreciated. Liz was rather out of sorts the next day, but I managed to be up and about by lunch time and actually wasn't feeling that bad.

That is, I wasn't feeling that bad until I discovered the Worst Hangover Food in the World...

As my mum is fond of remarking, I was quite the little meat-eater as a child. Times have changed, and I no longer enjoy big bits of meat like a steak or whatever, but I still like to think of myself as quite an open-minded gourmand who'll try pretty much anything. Part of the legend of little Gwan the Carnivore involved my alleged love of sucking the marrow out of lamb chops, an activity I haven't indulged in in many a year. But when I saw that the one of the choices of entrée on the menu prix fixe was bone marrow, I kind of thought, "I wouldn't normally order bone marrow, but since it's on the set menu, this is an opportunity to give it a go". I was slightly put off by the British woman on the next table loudly remarking (to her partner) that bone marrow was supposedly "like dog food" (seriously, this woman spent the whole meal complaining about things, particularly the fact that it wasn't fair that Liz's crème brûlée had a proper crust on it and hers didn't), but I forged ahead.

Bear in mind that with a lamp chop, you generally get a teeny tiny bit of pretty well-cooked marrow. I wasn't quite expecting that, but I think I had in mind a neat little terrine of something resembling foie gras. The reality was quite different...

Sooo much marrow... What are those, ox bones??

As soon as it was put in front of me, I knew it was a grave mistake. I think all I could say for the first five minutes was "oh my God, oh my God". Just looking at it was making me sick. Liz told me afterwards that the sight of it seriously almost made her vomit as well, although she was quite the little soldier in not revealing that to me at the time. Not so the Brit on the next table, who felt free to make several uncomplimentary remarks on the topic (not sure whether she didn't realise we spoke English or she thought we couldn't hear her, but wrong on both counts).

Still, I screwed my courage to the sticking place and cautiously dipped the spoon into one of the bones. It got even worse. It emerged from the bone as a quivering, wibbly lump. Suppressing the urge to hurl, I cautiously spread a small amount on my bread and took a bite. It tasted just like pure fat, with a greasy, jelly-like, tongue-coating texture. The small bite pictured in the photo was all I managed, but unfortunately, since I obviously wasn't progressing through the dish, the waiter didn't come to remove it until I eventually went to the bathroom around half an hour later and he spied his chance. So that was half an hour of Liz and I valiantly trying not to look that monstrosity in the eye lest we be sick.

On the bright side, the meal finished with the best moelleux au chocolat that I've ever had, but bone marrow: Never. Again.

Cologne cathedral and the Romano-Germanic museum

I don't know if I have that much to say really (cue very long post), but I had too many photos to put up on the other post without boring you all, so here goes.

As noted in my last post, Cologne was pretty much destroyed in World War Two, leaving the cathedral as more or less the only significant old landmark in the city. So we ended up spending quite a lot of time in and around it - first attempting a visit on Friday, when it was mostly shut for Mass (who goes to Mass on Friday evening?), then looking around on Saturday before having to go back to the hotel to watch qualifying with the intent of visiting the crypt on Sunday, except it was closed again until 1 pm, so we just took some photos since there was a blue sky for a change.

I wasn't blown away, to be honest. The outside is quite impressive, but also quite dark, and the inside is even darker. All the windows are modern (in fact the whole thing was only finished in the 19th century, after being half-completed for some 400 years), with most of them bright and attractive, but a pastiche of medieval style. It's also too crowded - according to Wikipedia, it's the most visited tourist site in Germany, attracting an incredible 20,000 visitors per day. There were certainly enough people milling about in early April, so I'd hate to be there in the middle of August.

Cologne cathedral

Hey, looks like that guy's drinking Starbucks coffee. Let's shame him!

Now that's a cool stained-glass window. Apparently the Archbishop didn't attend the unveiling, because he would have preferred a depiction of 20th-century Catholic martyrs. This is proof that archbishops have no taste.

One thing Cologne Cathedral does have going for it, though, is the world's most amazing and spectacular ceiling fresco. Move over Monkey Jesus, there's a new masterpiece in town. To say I was excited to document this chef d'oeuvre was something of an understatement. Forget what I said in the last post about Cologne not being a must-see destination and drop everything to wonder at who let a troupe of artistically-challenged school-children decorate the (up to) 800 year-old ceiling of Germany's most visited site. (My money's on the philistine archbishop.)

The best fresco ever

That time a small Peruvian woman dressed up as King Solomon

A touching memorial to traumatised choirboys everywhere

Caw! Caw! That eagle is definitely swooping in for the attack on the cowardly lion. Not for the first time on the blog, something reminds me of the epic Moa vs. Haast's Eagle animatronic battle that used to be at Auckland Museum (RIP André the Giant Eagle, we hardly knew ye)

It was like this, but better

And here we have Gregory the Great as Sad Cartman. Standing over the corpse of the Spirit of Jazz from the Mighty Boosh?

Source

Two enthusiastic thumbs up from me

And now for some jumbled photos I forgot to upload last time:

Finally some nice weather

A park and the TV tower. Weirdly reminds me of the Japanese gardens in Monaco

The Rhine

I uploaded the photos the wrong way round (not that it matters): we actually visited the Romano-German museum first thing on Saturday morning. Getting to the advanced age where I need all my energies to tackle a museum, and even then I was looking forward to lunch and a sit-down by the end. We made the rookie mistake of taking too long studiously reading every label in the downstairs part (mostly full of pottery and tools etc.), and then being a bit over it by the time we got upstairs, which actually had a lot of cool jewellery and statutes.

That said, overall it was a good museum. The stand-out is definitely the large, detailed and amazingly intact Dionysus mosaic, around which the museum was actually built (it being easier to do that than to try to move it). One thing I liked was that there's a huge picture window in the side of the museum, allowing people in the square by the cathedral above to look down at the museum without coming in. Maybe that's just clever advertising, but it seemed like a generous and inclusive gesture. I would say, though, that it is actually worth shelling out to see the mosaic in more detail. The figurative scenes are really lovely and the patterns are impressively complex. It reminded me of being forced to tessalate things in maths class - one of those activities which you think could never be of any possible use to anyone, and since I'm not likely to be called on to create a mosaic anytime soon, probably won't be. Still, amazing to think the planning and skill that must have gone into it, all the way on the fringes of the Empire.

Aww, these little fishies look so happy

Now I'm annoyed I didn't crop off the grey bit at the top, but can't be bothered correcting it

The Dionysus mosaic

There were several depictions of birds pulling mini sledges or performing other tasks

The Dionysus mosaic was discovered while building air-raid shelters in 1941. The museum didn't say when this mosaic was found, but it was from "the villa next door", so presumably at the same time. Can you imagine how excited the Nazis must have been? Probably saw it as a sign from divine providence, suckers.