I haven’t been to Chicago since I was a baby…I would love to go again! (Do some reenactments of My Best Friend’s Wedding, nbd)

(via theworldwelivein)

ambermidgett:

Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland, with a considerably epic library (as a tourist, I could not take photos, so I got this online). 

It has more than 5 million books, part of the reason being because it is a legal deposit library (meaning they’re entitled to a copy of every book published in Ireland and Great Britain).

The library (though not this room) is home to the Book of Kells, a manuscript containing the 4 Gospels, created by Celtic monks from around 800 CE.
(more on that if you’re curious — http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Kells)

Life goal. 

(via prettybooks)

I miss my dad today. I love how he can be so incredibly (and frustratingly) stingy sometimes, but 10 days in Europe…we bought this many souvenirs x 4 (this is only England and Germany).

thehelenli:

Postcard from Paris, Sacre-Coeur Basilica

     More here!

Travel blogging…again. Paris was our last stop in our Grand European Tour, so we were exhausted. But my dad said as soon as we arrived in Gare Nord I perked up!  However, shortly after our arrival, one of two terrifying things happened.

We were waiting on the taxi line, and this person who was shabbily dressed was helping people get cabs.  Of course, his clothes should have been a warning sign.  He forcefully grabbed our luggage and started putting it into the trunk. He also took the address we were going to and “helpfully” gave it to the driver, saying to us that it would not be more than 20 Euro to get there.  After we got onto the cab, he would not let my dad close the door.  My dad, being polite, did not want to close it onto the guy’s hands.  The guy forced the door open and said “20 Euro, give it to me!” but the taxi driver was already starting to roll away.  He pulled on my dad’s hand and my dad did a hand gesture like “I don’t have any money” (which was true), so the guy cursed and slammed the door.  The driver was not like what the travel guides warned us of; he spoke very little English (my dad always tries to make conversation with taxi drivers so this was to his dismay), but he entered our address into his GPS and very faithfully followed it.  I sat in the taxi terrified for the entire trip that the driver would also try to rip us off, but we safely arrived at our hotel.  My dad tried to redeem the whole scary situation by looking at the meter and saying “at least that scary guy estimated the price pretty accurately.” 

Scary story number 2, which is inspired by this photo of Sacre Coeur. My experience of Montmartre was not quite as pleasant as this seems.  My dad and I climbed up the steps to Sacre Coeur early in the morning, as workers were cleaning (read: spraying water on the steps/attacking gum stuck on the pavement/blowing dirt and garbage into the air).  The steps smelled strongly of urine, and the whole place was eerily quiet.  It was beautiful, no doubt, but part-“I don’t want to leave Paris” blues and part-“I can’t believe I woke up this early to smell urine” made me feel kind of grumpy.  After my dad did his mandatory mini-sketch/painting, we decided to go.  As we were leaving the (epic) staircase area pictured above, a man grabbed my arm.  He said “Do you want a bracelet?” and I said “No, thank you,” to which he replied “You’re very pretty.” I tried to wriggle out of his grasp and glanced desperately at my dad, who was striding away rather quickly.  The man tightened his grip and said “Hakuna Matata.”  Of course I think “what the heck of course I have worries, you are hurting me and my daddy is not here to save me!”  My firm, but kind “no thank you ” did not make him let go, so I had to wrench my arm away while giving the death glare (turning on the New Yorker??) and g.t.f.o.-ed.

…and of course the most wonderful patisseries I passed by on the way back to the hotel were closed because it was too early in the morning.

(via bonparisien)

whyfrance:

Consecration of the Emperor Napoleon I and Coronation of the Empress Josephine in the Cathedral of Notre-Dame de Paris on 2 December 1804 by Jacques-Louis David, French, 1748 – 1825.

Neoclassicism
Oil on canvas, 621 × 979 cm, Louvre, Paris, France

When I saw this painting at Versailles (according to Wikipedia that one is a copy…did not know that), it took forever for me to find Napoleon. Maybe it was the angle we were standing at. It’s amazing to see paintings by David in person, they are so big and awe-full. 

(via bonparisien)

I know I did not do a lot of travel blogging (my trip was toooo whirlwind), which is actually why a lot of my posts recently have been about Europe.  It’s partially a “I want to go back”-type thing, but also I want to share what I saw! 

My dad and I, after a long day at Versailles, Musee Rodin, Bon Marche, and Chinatown (for dinner), decided to go to the Tour Eiffel to perhaps catch a glimpse of the sunset from above.  Of course, we did NOT expect 3 simultaneous lines that wound underneath the tower. But of course, the Eiffel Tower is a definite destination for any one’s first time in Europe.  So we waited for about an hour, during which…some weird happenings occurred.  Of course the people standing in front of us were a couple from England…both a bit inappropriately dressed and definitely “abusive” (this is where people hit each other playfully but it has potential to become something scary).  So my emotions flickered between completely exhausted and terrified that my dad and I will get hit by this lovely couple. Meanwhile, people were peddling the little Eiffel Tower sculptures in various sizes and colors (I wanted to get a pink one for J-but decided it was not classy enough a present), on keychains, and of course blocks of glass/plastic with the Eiffel Tower etched inside. Most of them had a blanket which they could scoop up and tie into a little sack in case the po-po rolls ‘round, and almost all of them had a wire ring with Eiffel Towers of various sizes strung onto them.  All of a sudden I saw a couple of them jump up and down and whistle…and shortly afterwards heard a scuffle behind us.  I turned around to see a policeman holding a ring of Towers, and another policeman cuffing one of the peddlers.  All went back to normal, and within minutes the others were roaming once again.

It was funny to see inside the official store the signs that said to buy the official merchandise in-store and to ignore the illegal mini-Eiffel Towers outside, despite the obviously more appealing price.

My dad kept asking me if I wanted one, but I said that I already had one (from his trip to Paris in 1998-ish).  But then he said that the old one was for a younger me and I had grown up so I should get a bigger one, so we bought one that is more proportional to my height today! :]

In case you were wondering, we only went to the second floor.  My acrophobia hit many times during the trip, and I was about to decide that we would go all the way to the top when…I saw a notice that there was condensation at the top and said OH NO because that made me realize that it was too close to the clouds.  Needless to say, I was still terrified at the second floor, but felt a lot safer and closer to the ground there.

(via bonparisien)