If I was living in DC instead of Brussels I would seriously consider flying home to see this little bit of Paris in the Twin Cities. The chance to contemplate Georges de La Tour’s captivating piece, “The Card-Sharp with Ace of Diamonds,” is not one that can easily be passed up. There’s also a Vermeer, which, I mean, it’s a Vermeer! But that’s not all: the exhibition features works from each of the museum’s collection areas, in an attempt to decode what makes some works masterpieces and others not. You can even see how science helped the staff at the Louvre spot a forgery. How cool is that?
One of the biggest surprises of the night came in the form of a time capsule. I had no recollection of this project, but apparently all the '99 grads received envelopes that we filled with whatever we thought we'd like to see in our late twenties. Mine contained a variety of fun little treasures: high school photos, a movie ticket stub, a semi-love note from an ex. But the best thing of all was the message I wrote to myself about the next stage in my life. In addition to talking about my excitement over starting college and getting out of high school, I wrote that I wanted to marry someone "whose job allows us to travel the world." Sheesh. Kids say the darnedest things. Ten years later I'm pretty pleased I got to do the traveling thing, and especially pleased I did it all by myself.
Needless to say, if you don't listen to the announcement, you're probably not reading the passenger safety information brochure either. So I don't know what got into me when, during last week's flight from DC to MN, I decided to reach into the seat back pocket, pull out said safety brochure, and engage in a little light reading. What I found has changed my opinion of seat back literature forever. 
Take a close look at the two pictures I snapped. They're not terribly clear, but you should be able to notice the guy fleeing out the exit door in a purple tux and top hat, and the woman in a brace position wearing a full-on ballerina get-up, tutu and all. Was this the brochure designer's idea of a joke? Or do more people than I realize wear such outfits on airplanes?
Have you ever been driving down the road when the sight of a giant fish statue compels you to pull over and take a closer look? A friend and I had just pulled out of a gas station along Highway 169 during a mini road trip up north and were happily gnawing on our freshly purchased beef jerky when I spotted it. A quick swerve into the next lane followed by a sudden right turn into a park brought us up close and personal with a larger than life version of a walleye. The Minnesota state fish had never looked better.
As I get some much needed rest and relaxation in the Land of 10,000 Lakes this week, posting to Parisian Spring might take a backseat to barbecuing with friends. Nevertheless, planned activities including taking in a minor league baseball game, a one day road trip up north to visit a friend, a birthday party, and my ten year high school reunion are sure to provide at least a handful of bloggable stories. I'm looking forward to reporting on the state of travel and life from outside the beltway.
Connoisseurs of strong-smelling fromage, rejoice! After blogging about the announcement and temporary delay of a 300% duty on Roquefort cheese, I am happy to report the recent repeal of this planned artificial price hike. In exchange for the EU lowering barriers to exporters of non-hormone treated U.S. beef (they still ban the hormone-injected stuff), the U.S. will back off its threat to effectively push Roquefort (and other European foodstuffs) out of the American market. It's a victory for stateside lovers of France's trademarked sheep's milk cheese and the residents of the small French village that produce it alike.
Breaking out of your comfort zone while traveling is generally seen as a good thing. It can introduce you to new people and expose you to culturally unique experiences that you can't get by simply hanging out at the nearest expat bar. Some travelers take going off the beaten path to the extreme, while I find that small, less intense gestures usually do the trick. Think trying out a few foreign words at the local market vs. hitchhiking through Siberia. No matter your preferred form of exploration, you might eventually find yourself seeking out something a bit more familiar. Sometimes, even the most adventurous of travelers head back to the comfort zone for a refresher course in all things, well, comforting. I don't live in a foreign country, but there are definitely days when living in DC feels like living on another planet. Finding myself in need of all things known, I jumped at the chance to attend the Minnesota State Society's Annual Walleye Dinner, an event that didn't disappoint.
Shortly after walking in the door I knew I was among friends. We took turns marking our hometowns with push pins on a state map, and then quickly heading over to the bar to politely wait in line for domestic beers and red wine. The night's emcee was a DC weatherman who grew up in Minnesota and who brought down the house when he confidently announced that our dining hall was "the nicest room in Washington." I sat at a table with people who understood my longing for the Twin Cities' restaurant scene, allowed my accent to proudly show its face, and were able to inform me about Sun Country's return to the Minneapolis - DC direct route and Northwest Airlines' subsequent scaling back of their recently inflated prices for the same trip. Trust me when I tell you this is huge. We ate beer battered walleye (flown in from Minnesota, and utilizing a Mondale family recipe, of course), worked as a team to finish the Minnesota state trivia game (did you know that Yanni has a doctorate from the U of M?), and agreed that the best raffle prizes were the Caribou Coffee gift cards and the entire boxes of Pearson's Salted Nut Rolls. I didn't want the night to end.
They say if you don't like the weather in Minnesota wait five minutes and it will change. They're not kidding. I've been home less than a week and I've already seen rain, fog, sun, clouds, wind and now snow. Just yesterday we had crystal clear blue winter skies with plenty of bright sunshine. Today we're waking up to a gentle snowfall and an inch or so already on the ground. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised to see a tornado whip through here on Thursday.
The best part of the trip came at the end. As we were making our final descent into Minneapolis I snapped out of my iPod daze to notice that a lot of people were taking pictures out the plane windows. Turning to look, I realized what all the fuss was about. The sky was filled with one of the most beautiful sunsets I had ever seen. Everything was bright red, and when the clouds finally parted, we could see the perfectly snowy, perfectly Christmasy landscape below. I grabbed my own camera and caught some nice shots of the city all aglow on Christmas Day. We were home, and December 25th officially became my favorite day to travel.
If you've been a regular Parisian Spring reader for awhile, you've probably seen a couple of entries about Paris's bike sharing system known as Velib'. It's an incredibly user and environment-friendly public service that has been fully embraced by Parisians from all walks of life. As this recent article from The New York Times points out, France's capital isn't the only European city that is finding success with two-wheeled rentals. Barcelona, Lyon, Dusseldorf and Rome have all launched Velib'-like programs of their own.
The pumpkins are carved, the candy has been bought, and otherwise normal, respectable adults are walking around in ghost and goblin inspired clothing. Yes, it's Halloween in the United States, and as they do at seemingly every holiday, Americans are going all out. The enthusiasm my fellow citizens exhibit when it comes to celebrating never ceases to amaze me. Houses are decked out in orange and black, parties are planned at homes, bars and restaurants, and some people have spent weeks creating the perfect costume. Not much of an October 31st fan myself, I do enjoy the feeling that's in the air on the scariest night of the year. After all, only the coldest of hearts could resist melting at the sight of little ones all dressed up for trick-or-treating.
over this country? Where else can you turn your regular house into a haunted house with some decorations from your local drugstore? Where else can kids knock on the doors of their neighbors, yell "trick or treat!" and expect to receive candy for doing so? And lastly, where else can you eat that funny looking, love-it-or-hate-it, only-comes-out-at-Halloween treat known as candy corn?
This week, the national average price for a gallon of gas stateside is $2.65. 
Yes, I said Budweiser. The King of Beers, over-ambitious Super Bowl commercial time purchaser, most recognizable name in American beer, Budweiser. As far as I've been able to tell, this is the only American beer available for purchase in France, and as a result, the French believe Budweiser to be the only beer Americans drink. Not that there's anything wrong with Budweiser. It's a perfectly good and inexpensive option for a backyard BBQ or a night a the local bar, but in my own humble opinion, it's not the best example of fine American craftsmanship in beer. It's the equivalent of a two-euro bottle of French table wine, and if that's all American consumers were able to purchase, we'd think the French had poor taste as well. As it stands, Budweiser is the reason why I can't answer the frequently-asked French question, "Do you drink wine in the US?" by saying, "Yes, but I drink beer more often," without hearing raucous laughter followed by, "Oh yes, Budweiser!"
Today, the Mississippi as it winds through Minneapolis is lined with parks, trails, restaurants, arts and historical centers and luxury condominiums. Vestiges of the milling years can still be seen, and recent development projects have once again turned the river banks into a center of activity. Inextricably linked to our history and currently redefining our present, the Mighty Mississippi will continue to shape this state's trajectory for as long as it finds its source in a small glacial lake called Itasca.
There are always a couple of trees who get a head start on the leave changing season. They're the ones that are bright red in a sea of green weeks before their neighbors even think about donning a new look. These are the show-off trees; they like the attention. The "ooohs" and "ahhhs" of everyone realizing what is about to happen. And while the rest of the trees will change color gradually throughout the fall, it feels as though they were green one day and colorful the next. One day the landscape looks like summer and the next it has the unmistakable glow of autumn. There are plenty of fall colors to admire here in the city, but the best views are undoubtedly up north or down south. Lake Superior adds an exceptionally beautiful background to the golden trees, and a drive along the river bluffs on the way to Iowa is second to none in the fall. 
What exactly are the differences between Minneapolis and St. Paul, you might ask? Well, for starters, with approximately 377,000 inhabitants, Minneapolis is the larger of the two by nearly 100,000 Minnesotans. St. Paul strikes back by claiming the prestigious title of state capitol. Minneapolis is mostly situated on the west bank of the Mississippi River, while St. Paul occupies the area to the east. In addition, these supposed twins give off two very different vibes. Minneapolis feels urban, trendy and
youthful, while St. Paul has more established and distinguished airs. An outcropping of new boutique hotels such as Chambers and Hotel Ivy, as well as funky, see-and-be-seen restaurants such as Chino Latino add to Minneapolis' allure. In contrast, St. Paul plays home to old classics such as The St. Paul Hotel and W.A. Frost & Company; old classics that never go out of style. Finally, these two neighbors even have competing newspapers: The Star Tribune for Minneapolis and the St. Paul Pioneer Press for, you guessed it, St. Paul.
