Nice: The Perfect Last Weekend

As a tourist in France, the two typical “must see’s” are Paris and the French Riviera.  Having already visited Paris with my family, I skipped out on the Paris trip.  That left Nice.  I had to go on the trip this weekend to see if the city lives up to its famed beauty and great beaches.

We loved our charming room!

It was fortunate that I even got to go to Nice!  I thought I had signed up, and I was getting pretty excited for the trip.  Somehow, though, my name was not on the list.  The hotel/hostel was full and absolutely couldn’t accept one more person. The girl who sits next to me in class, however, willingly gave me her spot since she plans to return to Nice with a friend in two weeks. I’m so lucky.

Nice was the perfect way to spend my last weekend in France.  It was a seven-hour bus ride from Chambéry, which turned out to pass quickly.  The bus was comfortable, and I was able to sleep for most of the way, even though we were on the road from 2:00 pm to 8:00 pm.

The local market was full of interesting
finds, including these locally-produced
spices

We arrived in Nice just as the sun was setting behind a mountain over the Mediterranean Sea.  It was then that I knew that the weekend was going to be one to remember.  We pulled up to the hotel/hostel and got our keys.  I shared a room with three other girls on this trip, and when we opened our door, all four of us smiled.  The room was adorable!  It was a rounded room with powder-blue walls and dark wood trim.  The ceiling was white with flower moldings and lace curtains covered our three large windows.  We had a rounded balcony (the only one in the entire building) and two bunk beds with purple mattresses.  We even got a bathroom to ourselves, which is why I can’t decide if this place is a hostel or a hotel.

Though we had been eating French junk food the entire bus ride, we still were hungry for dinner.  After exploring, we found a cute little bistro and sat down for dinner.  It was the first time I had gnocci (a type of pasta), and I can assure all of you that it will not be the last.  If you have never had it – get some next time it is available to you.  You won’t regret it!

The beach was covered in these
smooth rocks - but they were cozy!

The next morning (Saturday) we got up early enough to take advantage of the entire day.  We started by sitting outside at a small bakery for coffee and pastries for breakfast, then, it was off to the beach by way of the market!  The beach was unlike any other that I have seen!  Instead of sand, it was covered in hundreds of thousands of gray palm-sized rocks, each perfectly smoothed by time, water, and beach-goers.  The rocks stretched all the way to the water, without a sand barrier.  I was fascinated, as a child is fascinated with finding buried treasure, with all the different types, colors, shapes, and sizes of rocks at the water’s edge.  You all should’ve seen me when I discovered sea glass!  I went on a treasure hunt for it, and am bringing a rainbow-colored fist-full of it home.  Because of the rocks, the sound of the crashing waves was slightly different.  Before the water crashed on the shore, you could hear, if you listened real carefully, the sound of the stones rolling over each other barely under the water’s surface.  It was almost whimsical. 

The water was clear and blue

We laid on our towels on the beach for hours, soaking up the sun.  Around lunch time, we went back to the market to scope out something to eat.  We found a cute little restaurant where we could order a whole array of crêpes.  Yum!  Mine was filled with ham, cheese, mushrooms, and onions, then topped with an egg sunny-side-up.  It was so delicious, and I couldn’t help but smile at the French-ness of our weekend.  The café was right on the market, so we looked around at jewelry and local art for a while before returning to the beach.

After coming in to the city during the sunset, we were determined to get sunset photos.  So, as it started to get dark, we walked to a high point that over looked the beach and watched the sun set over the sea and the mountains together.  The moon sparkled on the water like glitter, while the fishermen casted off of the rocks below our over-look.

We walked to a high place to watch
the sun set over the beach

That night, we decided to try to discover Nice’s night life; so we wandered around the buzzing district right off the beach, which was full of people in town for the city’s annual jazz festival.  There were bars and restaurants everywhere, and we decided on street food for supper (I had what may be the most delicious pizza of my life to this point:  goat cheese!).  After not really deciding on a place, we chose, instead, to sit on the beach with us four girls and two of our guy friends.  We drank wine, skipped rocks, and talked while the beach was full of other young people like us.  It was the best thing we could’ve done to really experience the night life, in my opinion.

And just like that, Saturday was over.

The sun was bright and intense Sunday morning, and even at 8:00 am, we could feel our room heating up.  We decided, anyway, to return to the beach for a few hours.  Though it was scary hot, and we could feel ourselves burning, the beach was still as beautiful and almost surreal as the day before.  We stopped by a grocery store on the way so we wouldn’t have to leave the beach for lunch, and a beach picnic was a nice addition to our Nice weekend.

Happy after our successful "vacation"

Our two guy friends found us at the beach (a miracle in the thousands of people!) and together we wandered around “Old Nice” to see what we could find.  We had French coffee and listened to a local jazz ensemble (complete with a banjo, which I thought was pretty cool).  The rest of the day was spent discovering Nice, lounging, and eating.  We caught the bus at 9:30 pm for the trip back to Chambéry, and although we returned to the city at 5:00 am, we still got enough sleep to make it to class on time.

We have been living the lives of French students for the past six weeks, but the weekend in Nice was great.  It was the first time I truly felt like I was on vacation; like I was here to visit France, not to experience and assimilate.  It was a chance to grow closer to a couple girls on this trip, and a chance to relax before the trip home.  Though I don’t think I will ever try to return to Nice, I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect way to spend my last weekend in France than on her stony beaches.

Tri-National Weekend

Hello everyone!  I know I haven’t posted in a long time…but you’re about to see why.  We’ve been so busy here in Chambéry for the past week and a half!  The busy streak all started with a fabulous Tri-National Weekend, as I’ll call it.  The rest of the American students and I looked forward to it for weeks, and it lived up to our expectations.

Friday, July 1^st

Nation 1: France

Almost every night in the month of July here in Chambéry, there is an event in the local castle.  It is a pure testament to the French citizens’ love for the richness of their culture.  All these events are free to the public.  Friday was the first one: an orchestra concert in the castle’s courtyard!  What could be more perfectly European?  A small group of us arrived at the castle nearly two hours early to get a seat (good thing, too!).  We sat on folding chairs in the courtyard and listened to a lovely, moving hour and a half of Italian orchestral pieces played by a small chamber orchestra and a soprano. The sun set behind the castle walls and the stage lights changed color as they reflected off of the soprano’s beautifully elegant maroon taffeta dress.  Nothing could have been more perfect than our musical voyage through Italy, especially since the next day was our physical trip to Chambéry’s Italian sister city!

Saturday, July 2^nd

Nation 2: Italy

Enjoying my Italian pasta

Taking a bus to Turin, Italy, was an exciting ride.  We left early (7:00 am, if I remember correctly), and all of the students buzzed with excitement over Italian pasta, pizza, and gelato.  Food seems to be the source of many of our excitements this summer.  About half way through the trip, we stopped at an Auto-Grill truck stop!  I remembered these from my family’s tour through Europe a few years ago, and I was pretty excited to see one again.  At that bus stop, I finally realized that Starbucks uses Italian for many of their drinks…though I still unsuccessfully ordered coffee from a machine.  (The first time around, I pushed the “Latte” button.  Seems right…right?  Turns out, logically, that “Latte” is the Italian word for steamed milk.  Whoops!  It was an easy fix, though – I just ordered an espresso shot to mix in, and it was a delicious breakfast drink.)

Wandering around allowed
us to find things like this!

Once in Turin, we went our separate ways.  The day was full of wandering around, discovering the city.  The main goal of my small group for the day was to eat a bowl of real Italian pasta, a mission which we accomplished handily and for only 4 euros each!  Along the way, though, we discovered many beautifully ornate cathedrals, fountains, and statues.  We took photos all day, and one of my guy friends even found a suit at the Saturday open-air market!  It was a beautifully chill Italian excursion.  The excited buzz on the way home was already aimed on the next day: our bike ride through a French vineyard!

Sunday, July 3^rd

Nation 1: France

At the beginning of this program, each student received a pamphlet of excursions that would be available to us for our six-week stay.  One of them immediately stuck out to me, and I smiled every time I thought, “Bike Ride through a Vineyard.”  It sounded so quaint!  We would take a bus to a vineyard, hop on bikes, leisurely ride between rows of grapes, listening to a French tour or wine-making explanation, and end with a tasting.

We biked right on the road

It is amazing what a difference one preposition can make.  When I was thinking “Bike Ride through a Vineyard,” the excursion was actually “Bike Ride to a Vineyard.”  We met outside of our apartment building with a picnic, all excited to learn about and taste local wines.  Guillaume, our animateur, explained the excursion to us.  We would walk to the vélostation, rent 28 bikes, ride an hour up the mountain to a lake, eat our picnics, and ride the rest of the way up the mountain to the vineyards.  It wouldn’t be hard.  It wouldn’t be easy. It would be “sporty,” he said.  I was excited, nonetheless.  It was a beautiful, sunny day, and I was definitely glad that I wore loose clothing.  We rented our bikes (which didn’t come with helmets), and started in on the ride.  As it turns out, Guillaume’s definition of “sporty” and mine aren’t the same.  On the way there, I had one mini-asthma attack and had to get off of my bike to push a few times.  I was glad that I wasn’t the only one struggling, because we were together at the back of the pack to encourage each other.  Determined (and glad to have the challenge of some strenuous physical activity), I did make it to the lake and finally to the vineyard. 

The views from the mountain were breathtaking!  Small farm houses surrounded by pristinely-straight rows of grapes dotted the mountainside.  We began our tour of the vineyard by watching an intriguing video about this particular vineyard’s history.  They are the only one in France who exports grape plants, and in order to combat quickly-evolving fungi here, they have developed a machine that (essentially) staples two different vine varieties together.  We learned about different cork materials and grape-harvesting methods through the years.  My favorite information, though:  When it hails here, just like in Iowa, the hail can do significant damage to the grape vines.  How do they combat hail?  Vineyard workers go to the top of a nearby mountain and shoot fireworks into the sky to melt the hail!  It works, because here in the mountains, hail forms a lot lower than it does over flat land.  When I heard that, I couldn’t believe it – what a good idea!

Views like this were definitely worth
the 16 kilometer uphill ride

We had a fancy French wine-tasting (the French word is so much better:  “ Dégustation” pronounced “day-goose-tahss-eeohn,” being really light on the “n” at the end, so that it only really reverberates in your nose without escaping your mouth).  I tried not to swallow too much wine so that I could bike in a straight line to get home.  We had to go down a mountain, after all!  But all was well.  Two of my friends fell, but neither one was seriously injured (one didn’t even break skin), and all of us slept well that night.  I looked up the distances, and we biked 16km up the mountain, and 16km back down (about 20 miles total!)  We needed our sleep, since the next day was the 4^th of July!

Monday, July 4^th

Nation 3: America!

Bob and I enjoyed our ice cream!

Though we are in France, we Americans still tried to have a fully USA day.  We tried to fill it with American things: a beer pong tournament, cheese burgers and fries, an American TV show, and Budweiser from a local bar.  My friend from ISU was even going to stop by to visit me!  Though not all of those things happened, the day still turned out to be great.  I started out the day with a Coca Cola for breakfast; the most American thing I had in my pantry.  My friend (Bob) rolled in to town on a train right after I got out of class, so we grabbed pastries and pizza for lunch and lounged around, speaking of his travels and my experiences here so far.  We went for ice cream (mine was ISU colors), made cheese burgers with yellow cheese (hard to find in France!), and delivered Bob to meet his host for the night on the way to the bar.  Though to Budweiser place was closed, we finished out the night by playing beer pong in the park.

American dinner for America's
birthday:  Cheeseburger and
Fries!

My former neighbor, Germain, was back for the day to visit us; so I had to say a second good bye to him in the park.  That was the only low part of my day.  Happy birthday, America!

Our Tri-National weekend was complete with French, Italian, and American experiences.  It was so great to see Bob and bond with my American buddies.  As corny as it sounds, we didn’t need fireworks when we were all together.  

Mountains, Mountains, Mountains!

As a girl from Iowa, mountains have always fascinated me.  Oddly enough, my first thought when I see a mountain for the first time in a while usually is, “Wow…I wonder how much that thing weighs!”  Here in Chambéry, we are nestled nicely into the mountains.  They aren’t huge ones (not big enough to have snow caps), but they’re a beautiful sight while we walk to school in the morning.  We’ve recently had two mountainous adventures, and both were blog-worthy!  So this post will be split into two parts:  Mont Blanc and Parapente.  Here we go!

Mont Blanc

Mont Blanc was gorgeous from every
angle!

Last weekend (June 25^th), we took a bus trip to Chamonix, a charming little town at the base of Mont Blanc, the tallest mountain in the European Union.  The town itself was full of tourist shops and restaurants, and we often heard passers-by speaking English.  To be honest, that was pretty bizarre.  I have become so used to hearing French in the streets that English seems out of place.

 We took a cute red train to the “Sea of Ice” glacier on top of one of the mountains.  The train ride was great!  It was bouncy and kind of slow, and we went through tunnels as it climbed the mountain.  I felt like I was on a roller coaster, and often had to remind myself that the situation was real.

Inside the glacier there were colored
lights.

The views from the mountain were indescribable.  I could’ve spent an hour sitting on a bench, looking around.  Instead, though, we took a cable car half way down to the glacier.  After the cable car, we descended a humongous staircase to the entrance of the glacier itself.  The staircase was obviously pieced together over time, and there were periodical signs on the rocks denoting the level of the glacier in intervals of five years.  It was kind of sad to see how quickly it is melting, but I’m sure it’s aided by all the touristic activity.  I learned later that Dad went to the same glacier when he was in high school, and it’s incredible to think that he probably only had to descend one small staircase, not the hundreds of stairs that we braved.

The “Sea of Ice” was gorgeous!  The inside was lit with colored lights, and there was a bedroom and kitchen carved into the ice.  It was a great experience.

Parapente

A couple of our friends ready to land

I can already tell that being here without anyone that I know has helped me grow.  It has been a good exercise in thinking for myself, searching myself, and discovering everything that I am capable of.  It has certainly required courage and willpower.  A test of my courage came on Tuesday the 28^th.  Our animateur (the guy who schedules all of our excursions) scheduled a trip for 12 students to go paragliding.  Living in the mountains, I suppose this was inevitable.  I signed up, and was really excited to give it a try!

As the day approached, I got more and more excited, but there was still that voice in the back of my head saying, “Are you crazy?  You’re really going jump off of a mountain with a stranger in a foreign country?”  Yes.  That’s what I did.

The jump zone from the top...the
ground is way down there!

The paragliding site was next to one of the big, beautiful lakes in the area.  There were three pilots for us, so groups of three students at a time were bused to the jump site on the top of one of the surrounding mountains.  For most of the time to wait, the other nine of us lounged in the landing zone (a grassy field surrounded by trees), talked, watched people land, and watched for our classmates.  We looked up at the mountains and said, “That looks a lot shorter than I pictured.”  Silly us.

I was in the fourth and final group to go.  As each group landed, there was a wide range of reactions from “I’m going to puke” to “It wasn’t crazy enough for me” to “Wow, that was AWESOME!” so I didn’t really know how to feel or what to expect.  We hopped in the van, and off we went!

Our jump zone is that light clearing.

It was about a 30 minute drive from the ground to the jump site.  Every now and then, Alyssa and I would catch a glance of the ground, and we quickly realized that we were crazy to think the mountain was too short.  We were getting so far off the ground!  The van was full of our three pilots, we three students, and Guillaume (our animateur).  The entire time, it was loud French banter.  I was unnaturally calm.

At the top, we were paired with pilots, handed our large back-pack-like harness, and were led out onto the jump pad.  That’s when my nerves came.  There are no words to explain the view from the little flight pad.  As soon as I cleared the trees, I saw a large patch of Iowa-esque gravel at a steep decline to the edge of the mountain, pilots setting up their canopies on the gravel, paragliders in the air, and finally, the ground waaaaaaaay in the background.  We were so high! 

Cedric took this one - he insisted.
I was afraid he'd drop my camera, but
it was fine, and kind of a cute photo!

Cedric, my pilot, was clearly amused by my amazement at the sight.  He just came over, gave me my helmet, and set up my harness while I oogled at what was going on around me.  My harness was much like a large backpacking pack with a loop harness around my thighs, clips across my torso, a camera holder on my chest, and a large rounded chair that hung to the back of my knees.  My pilot was clipped to a strap in the middle of my back.  Kyle (my friend) and his pilot were ready to go before Cedric and me, so we got to see him take off.  Something went wrong, and Kyle slid on his behind down the gravel for a few feet toward the edge.  Cedric was explaining how to take off, and all he really said (in French) was, “Run forward, definitely not like that (pointing to Kyle).  Do you understand?  That is forbidden.  It’s very dangerous.  Just run.”  Ok.  Just run.  Got it.  As Kyle’s pilot was re-arranging his canopy, Cedric and I were ready to go.  He told me to go, and I ran straight for the edge of the mountain.  Suddenly, he yanked me backwards and the canopy fell.  I was pretty scared, as we were maybe four feet from the edge.  I asked if it was my fault, but the wind just wasn’t right.  Cedric unclipped himself from me and went back up to get re-situated.  He left me on the edge.  I was terrified, and when I moved my feet the gravel would shift under them.  As I was down there, Kyle took off.  I could hear him yelling, and was getting nervous.  Preferring not to fall off the edge of the mountain, I just waited there until Cedric told me to come back up.  I hurried up and grabbed his hand before I could fall.

Take 2:  He told me to run, and I did.  Soon, the ground just disappeared from under my feet.  Crazy!  I was flying!  Cedric pushed me around a little until I was sitting on my chair piece, and we were good to go.

There are no words to accurately describe flight.  It’s a great sensation, and I would suggest it to everyone I know that is not afraid of heights.

Cedric and I in the air!  He insisted on
photos while we were up there, and I
am glad we got some!

Cedric and I chatted a little in French, but we were mostly quiet.  As soon as he discovered that I was not going to get sick, he started to have fun with our flight.  We did spins and loops in the air!  The view was always amazing, and he pointed out the surrounding cities to me.  He even let me drive for a little bit, though I was reluctant.

After about 30 minutes, we landed on our feet in the grassy field.  Andy, one of our friends, was waiting at the bottom with an ice cream for me, an ice cream for Alyssa, and a beer for Kyle.  It was the best ice cream I’ve had in a long time, and it made the day perfect.

Of the entire experience, the only time that I was truly scared was when I was out on the edge of the mountain by myself.  The flight itself was serene and beautiful and fun.  Even the landing was fun.  I hope to go again someday, though I don’t think I’ll ever drive.

Living in the mountains here has allowed us to have these two great adventures.  Every week gives us something new to do!  

La Vie Quotidienne

 It’s the official half-way point of my program here in Chambéry, and I can’t believe how quickly time has flown!  I realized that thus far in my French adventure, I have only told the stories of trips outside of Chambéry.  I haven’t told you, the loyal readers of my blog who are supporting and rooting for me back home, about our everyday life here.  This post is dedicated to the beautifully relaxing slow days in this French city that I am growing to love.

For starters: Chambéry is located here, in the French Alps on the south-east side of the country, pretty close to Italy.

Our shared kitchen

I live in an apartment-style residence hall.  I share an apartment with one other American, a girl from Missouri.  We have a common water closet (a toilet room), a little shower room, and a kitchen that is about the size of my arm span squared, equipped with a 2-burner stove, a sink, and a little fridge.  My room is great!  I have my own personal sink and mirror in one corner, separated from the rest of the room by ceiling-height bright yellow shelves.  I have a big window that looks out to a tree, a desk which spans the length of the room, a desk chair, a bedside table, and a twin-sized bed. 

Every weekday morning, many of the American students meet on the sidewalk in front of our residence hall at 8:30 am to walk to school.  It is a 2 kilometer walk through the city and up the side of a pretty good-sized hill to get to the Université de Savoie campus for étrangères (non-French people).  It usually takes us about 20 minutes to make the walk, then we have a little time to get situated in the classroom, fill our water bottles, and grab a little coffee out of the coffee machine.  We have class from 9:00 – 12:30 on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday; and we have class from 9:00 – 13:00 (the French use military time here) on Wednesday and Friday.  We are divided into 4 classes, so everyone gets to study at his or her own level of French. 

We get to see things like this
every day, wandering around
the city.  Awesome.

For the most part, I love class now.  One of our professors (my class has 2 professors who switch off) used to be a pastry designer at a fancy hotel in San Francisco, and now teaches French to étrangères.  She hopes to someday open her own shop.  Needless to say, she and I had an instant connection.  We are going to meet on Wednesday after class for a private session specifically about baking vocabulary, where we will share recipes, ask questions, and learn the baking language of the other.  I am excited to help her with her English, and to ask questions about some French pastries I am dying to try to bake.  It’s an odd feeling:  at the beginning of the program, there was a problem with my placement and, though the class I’m in seemed too easy, I was unable to transfer out.  I see now, after going with the flow, that God kept me in that class so the professor and I could discover these things about each other.  He sure knows what He’s doing, and it’s reassuring to know he’s got my back while I’m so far away from home. 

Every day seems to be split into two separate days:  Class and After Class.  Once class finishes, we students all kind of go our own ways.  There is usually something planned after class (canoeing, dancing, canyoning, paragliding, trips to nearby cities, etc.).  Usually, though, my friends and I head back to the residence for lunch, and then proceed with the project for the day.  Today, for example, we grabbed a slice of pizza at a pâtisserie right next to our residence, and walked around the city to find a good suit shop (for our friend Andy), take photos of our city’s castle, go to a book store, explore the WWII monument, and check out the African festival that is in town.  Each day is something different, and always full of so many sights and adventures.  It makes for such a long day, that class usually seems like it had a day of its own.

Some nights, we go to a local bar.  It's
pretty chill, called "Charlie's"

Most of my learning happens outside of the classroom.  I love to speak to locals.  Not only does it give me encouragement, but it helps me pick up on vocabulary.  I am proud that I can communicate effectively in French, and it is a feeling that I will probably miss sorely once I’m back in the states.  Today, at an African festival in the park, I stopped by a table of masks.  There, a local woman, the vendor, and I had a great conversation about beauty, youth, and identity; then the woman and I told each other a little bit about ourselves.  She was born here in Chambéry, moved to Paris, and recently moved back.  She said it was because Chambéry is so personal, and I agree with her.  I have never been turned down or made fun of by a local, even though they can tell I’m not French.  I have been mistaken for a German 3 times (and I blame my blonde hair and blue eyes) and an English Woman once (by the vendor at the African mask table).  I take it as a compliment!  At least I don’t speak with a horribly-obvious-American accent.

There's always something to
do in the city.  This was
taken at the music festival
the other night.

Chambéry is kind of like Alaska, where it doesn’t really get dark until 9:30 pm.

Around supper time, 5 or 6 of us usually eat together in my neighbor, Andy’s room.  We always have something to talk about, and we usually watch YouTube videos or an episode of East Bound and Down (a show introduced to us by our friend from Vermont.  It’s great!).  If not, then we listen to one of the boys play the guitar, and rock out with them.  Some nights we go out to a bar after supper, but most nights we just chill chez nous.  It’s a relaxing and exciting life here.

As you have seen in other posts, most weekends involve a trip or adventure; and Saturdays always include the local market (another opportunity to talk to locals).  Sundays are usually spent sleeping and lounging; recovering from the activities of the past week and preparing for the excitement of the next.

I look forward to telling you the stories of my next week; I am going paragliding on Tuesday!  We’re also taking trips to Chamonix, Tourin (Italy), and Jean-Jaques Rousseau’s house. 

Thanks for your support throughout this first half of the program.  I’ll keep you updated!

The Chartreuse Caves

Our  guide explained the process of
making alcohol from flowers

They sound pretty cool, don’t they?  Before you get any ideas, though, I suppose I’d better clear the image of “Chartreuse Caves” out of your head:  “Cave” is the French word for a cellar or a cavern (not really a cave), and “Chartreuse” is the name of an order of monks who used old medicinal elixir recipes to start a liquor cellar.  So, I’m not about to write of our visit to greenish-yellowish holes in the side of a mountain.  Instead, this is the story of our visit to a pretty cool liquor manufacturing place nuzzled next to a monastery in the mountains.

Getting ready for our tasting!

My friends have been excited for our tour of the liquor cellars since the beginning of the trip (we are all college kids, after all.  There’s something alluring about the lower drinking age, especially for my under-21 friends, so alcohol gets the whole group pretty excited.)  To add to all of the excitement, we were let out of class half an hour early to catch our bus to Chartreuse.  It was about an hour-long bus ride (as most trips seem to be).

We arrived at a building with beautifully ornate stained-glass windows telling the history of the Chartreuse Order (the order of monks) and the distillery itself.  We were given a tour of the distillery and an explanation of the processes.  Chartreuse liquor is made from mountain plants, trees, and flowers, and it was fascinating to hear about how the drink is made.  Our tour included a 3D movie of the history of the town, order, and distillery, and (of course!), it ended with a tasting.

The "Green" really WAS green!

The distillery has two main specialties:  Green and Yellow (both naturally colored by their contents).  I tried green for the tasting, and my was it strong!  I couldn’t finish the shot-sized sip I was given.  Green has 55% alcohol by volume and Yellow has 40%.  It tasted good, though; definitely had a natural, plant-y taste.  It almost tasted like mint and pine.  The best liquor that I tried was one made from raspberries.  It was smooth and sweet and, as my friends and I discovered after coming home that night, especially delicious when mixed with sprite or sparkling white wine. 

And the "Yellow" was actually yellow!

The Chartreuse Caves lived up to my friends’ and my expectations.  It turns out that monks really know what they’re doing when it comes to alcohol production, and I really enjoyed learning about the process of making alcohol out of flowers.  Who knew it was possible?  So the next time you are debating whether or not it is too girly to get your male friend a bouquet of flowers for Valentine's Day, remember this:  there are monks in the French alps who make bouquets in to very strong liquor.