Travelogue

A mom, dad, and toddler in a stroller posing and smiling in front of the pyramid of the Louvre museum
My mom, dad, and I at the Louvre, Labor Day weekend of 2002

In 2002 when I was 14 months old, my parents and I went to Germany to endure 2 weeks’ worth of hospital appointments when they were trying to diagnose me with what we now know as Spinal Muscular Atrophy. As a much-needed break, my parents decided we would spend Labor Day weekend in Paris, because why not?

I only know this based on stories they’ve told me, but the gist is that it was chaos from the beginning. Apparently, my dad booked the reservation at a hotel with an address of something like 1234 Paris St, Paris… spoiler alert: Paris St, Paris doesn’t actually exist and neither did that hotel. So, my poor parents were stuck walking around the streets of Paris with me, until they found an available hotel room.

The stroller they were borrowing from a friend fell apart within the first day we were there, so my parents had to take turns carrying me around the city. They set aside an entire day to visit the beautiful Louvre, but I guess I didn’t appreciate art back then, because I proceeded to scream at the top of my lungs while my parents rushed past the Mona Lisa and Venus di Milo to get me out of there.

Now, I’m 19 years old and I have regrets about how I spent my time abroad. Being physically disabled leads to some challenges in travelling across the country, and I can’t even imagine trying to go across seas. But now, with COVID-19, no one is travelling, and that has encouraged museums to go virtual – including the Louvre. So, I have taken full advantage of these resources being free at the moment, and decided to take a day to go “visit” some beautiful art.

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I started my grand adventure with a simple Google search of “French cafes near me,” after all, I needed to get the full experience. I quickly found that La Belle Rosette was only a ten-minute walk from my dorm room, and I was off! I enjoyed their quaint little area that wasn’t too big, but I imagine it is nice and intimate when you can dine-in. I ordered the Rosaletta panini lunch combo, and my friend got the Mona Lisa panini combo – needless to say, we felt very French.

The front of the cafe, La Belle Rosette
La Belle Rosette, taken on October 6th 2020

We carried our treats back to campus and ate outside the Beans café and enjoyed our delicious sandwiches. Then, the real adventure began. I easily found the Louvre’s website, and within a few clicks I had found their virtual galleries.

The galleries’ online experiences were all unique, some went full-on like a Google Earth street view, and some were simple panoramas that you could slide through. A lot of the pieces had zoom-in options and captions of what the name was, who created it, and brief descriptions of what the medium was and/or what they were symbolizing. The only unfortunate thing was that those captions were all in French for most pieces, so I would recommend having a translator at the ready.

A screenshot of "The Body in Movement" virtual Louvre gallery
A screenshot of the exhibit “The Body in Movement,” taken on October 11th 2020

You can view the art and filter search results by the room the art is in, or by the exhibit it is included in. I went by exhibit, since I didn’t have any art in mind, and I wanted to experience as much as possible.

There was an exhibit appropriately titled, “Founding Myths: From Hercules to Darth Vader,” that I instantly clicked to view more in-depth. It included sculptures and paintings depicting the Greek and Roman heroes and monsters, and more modern concepts. I couldn’t identify what in the exhibit had to do with Darth Vader or the Star Wars saga but I assumed they may have been mentioned in French or on a sign that was too small to view. I enjoyed the artwork nonetheless. There were even interactive pieces, which I found odd and exciting coming from this prestigious museum. The “What, Where, Who?” light game was really intriguing, as it invited guests to press buttons that controlled different lights to convey the power that color and shadow has on art. Unfortunately, that wasn’t part of the virtual experience, but there was a button explaining the concept.

As I clicked out of that section, I realized something; I apparently had seen the Mona Lisa when I was 14 months old, and I have no memory of it… I should look it up! Sounds simple, it’s bound to be in one of these exhibit links and I’ll be able to tell people, “Yeah, I’ve seen the Mona Lisa… virtually.”

I followed through the list of available virtual exhibits, including the “Remains of the Louvre’s Moat,” saw the Great Sphinx of Tanis and some animal mummies, glanced at some sculptures of Greek deities…

But there was no di Vinci!

I started overthinking it (as I’m prone to do) and convinced myself that maybe they exclude di Vinci’s work from the virtual tours, keeping them as a “hidden” gem only available in-person. Bummed, I started clicking random French buttons thinking I’d find the online giftshop so I could daydream about buying a t-shirt, and then I saw it. Clear as day, in an 8-point font at most, was a link titled, “Mona Lisa Beyond the Glass.” Huzzah! This whole “trip” was worth it!

I was soon enveloped in a 5-minute long video of the curators of the di Vinci exhibit explaining how they have created an exhibit exclusively for the Mona Lisa to be viewed on a virtual reality headset. They explained that every visitor wants to have their moment with the beautiful piece, but due to crowds, people only get an average of 30 seconds in front of her. So, they created a VR-experience that allows you to see the individual layers di Vinci had to use to create the depth and details. There’s even an app anyone can download on their smartphones (for free) that gives you the same exposure to the art. I didn’t install the app since the video was immersive, and instead I downloaded the free exhibit booklet, and learned that it took di Vinci from 1503-1519 to finish the masterpiece.

As a little treat, I perused the online giftshop, oohing and ahhing at all the pretty replicas that could be purchased at a range of €3.00 to €2,500! I considered purchasing a small notebook as a souvenir for this “once in a lifetime” experience, but after calculating shipping, I realized my small notebook was going to cost more than a new hardback novel from Barnes and Noble. So, I decided to simply bookmark the page to look back at and proceed to ooh and ahh at it.

My first and second visits to the Louvre were vastly different – for starters there were far less tears this time around! And even though this recent “trip” was quite unconventional to most, it was probably the best I am going to get, and I enjoyed it! Lately, a lot of people have been talking about what the “new normal” of the world is going to be, and I hope virtual tours are something that sticks around. Not only is it more physically accessible, but it allows people with economic issues to still experience the beauties of the world in an immersive way. After all, isn’t art one thing that everyone should have access to?

Travelogue

The Chicago skyline appears behind the wing of an airplane
Downtown Chicago from above. Credit: Pin.it/1TDUhMg

I get Dunkin Donuts every time I go to the airport. I don’t think this is romantic, nor is it beneficial to my health, but tradition is tradition, so I grab my coffee once again.

In March, I sat alone on a near-empty plane to visit my mother. Masks on. I wasn’t quite allowed to travel then. I was terrified of it, actually. When I stepped off the plane into my mother’s silver Kia, I kept my mask on. We both used hand sanitizer. Walking through the doors of my childhood home, I stripped down and emptied the contents of my suitcase straight into the washing machine. To say I had no idea what would lie ahead in this Corona would be an understatement.

Its September now, and again, I sit on an airplane. It’s not so empty this time, yet this pandemic plagued world seems worse. On this airplane back in March, I knew who I was. I knew what I had to do. Six months later and I have done it. I came out. Now I am coming home, again. My dad is getting married, mid pandemic, matching masks and all, so he is sending me across the country. Normally I might be upset about his irresponsibility, bringing his 70-year-old parents into the world of illness and vulnerability simply to celebrate himself (selfish), however; I need my family now more than ever, so I will let it be (selfish of me, too).

When the plane descents into Chicago, I either listen to Lake Short Drive by Aliotta Haynes Jeremiah, or a lesser known Lake Michigan by Rogue Wave. I love being from a place that people write songs about. It only strengthens my air travel traditions. If you’re lucky, you’ll have chosen the correct side of the airplane, the one that lines up perfectly with the landing pattern, flashing the gorgeous Chicago skyline alongside Lake Michigan. I almost like the city better from above than below. From the sky she is all beauty. I can sit alone in my airplane row and enjoy all my dreamy misconceptions of who the city really is. On the ground I walk through an airport filled with Black Lives Matter masks and maskless folks in MAGA hats. I wonder how all these people can exist in this space. I wonder how a city has fostered such a sense of division. I wonder how the value of Black lives could somehow make American less great in the eyes of some. The answers to these questions go back generations, but people still refuse to know them. My stepbrother picks me up from the airport. His hat totes an American flag, one blue stripe. He scoffs at my Black Lives Matter mask. My dad tells me I am being too political with my clothing choices, yet there is no comment for my stepbrothers. That’s the thing about being from a place people write songs about– you think it’s all wonder, big bustling city, a cultural hub. These illusions hide the truth of the reality for those who live there. One of the most segregated cities in the country, thriving police brutality, and wealthy white folks who insist this is all fine.

Driving home down Cicero, I look at a building draped in Trump flags with a homeless man begging out front. As someone who came out three days ago, I find the division in this space to be overwhelming. In Denver, I feel safe, pride flags line shops and street corners. Back home, I am faced with the reality that my rights as a queer woman are on the line. I am struck with the realization that unless you are a white, cis, heterosexual, able-bodied, wealthy man, traveling can be overwhelmingly political. To the point where it is threatening. This is the place where my best friend got beat up for coming out as transgender, this is the place where a girl had her hijab ripped off at school because Trump was elected, this is the place where a swastika was painted on my high school parking lot during the Black Lives Matter protests, after all.

Sitting at my dad’s rehearsal dinner, my family members ask me if I will be coming home after graduation. Chicago absolutely is home to stunning scenery, infamous foods, iconic sports teams. It is without a doubt culturally rich. Yet I always say no. This space does not feel safe to me. Despite the fact that this is my hometown, I am no longer certain of the degree in which I am welcome here. The handling of a global pandemic, a civil rights movement, a life-threatening election– 2020 has unveiled many of Chicago’s shortcomings. Perhaps it is not quite the tourist’s dream location.

As I prepare to board my plane back to Denver, I sip my Dunkin Donuts coffee under my mask. I am still uncertain if this is appropriate pandemic behavior. I am truly uncertain about nearly every aspect of traveling in 2020. Yet here I am. This time, I will listen to Rocky Mountain High by John Denver when my plane begins to land as I contemplate the meaning of traveling to a new place in the midst of what the world looks like today.

Travelogue

The entrance to Greenwich Common featuring an arch with the words "Greenwich Common."
The spot of refreshment and relaxation in Greenwich. Taken August 20.

It was a warm August day on the East Coast, the noon sun was high in the sky, and the windows were down as I was scouring for a parking spot.

My boyfriend and dad were taking the day to golf in New York, so I took the car to get away and explore Greenwich, CT. I am not much of a golfer and I had an upcoming online exam, so I figured I would use my time to be productive with school and then after explore Greenwich, a town I had been dying to visit.

Luckily, I did end up finding a parking spot on Greenwich Ave., but this was soon the least of my worries. I had a loose plan held in my mind for how the day would go. I would park, walk around to see what stores and restaurants were open, sit down at one to take my exam, and then enjoy the remainder of the day shopping on the bustling road lined with shops from Tory Burch to Zara to local boutiques.

If only it were that simple.

I got out of the car, backpack on my shoulders, sunglasses on my face, ready to conquer this test and then stroll down the block. Immediately, I spotted a Starbucks right across from my parking spot and marched on over, thinking it was convenient enough. With the pandemic still being very present, I decided to peer around and see what I was working with. To my dismay, the Starbucks had no inside seating open, and they also did not have a patio. It was time for a plan B.

I wandered up and down a few blocks, not seeing any other coffee shops. I got back to the area of the Starbucks and saw a few tables set up in the street for outdoor dining. They were not attached to any specific business, and there was a table open. I snagged this table and pulled out my laptop. The placement of this seating area was just close enough to the Starbucks for me to connect to their free Wifi. Score!

I logged into the Wifi network and opened my Canvas page to then be notified by my laptop that it has 10% battery left. Are you kidding me?

There is no way that will last me long enough to get through an entire exam. Sweating from sitting in the sun and irritated from the morning’s mishaps, I decided to just walk around and try to enjoy the day.

I brought my backpack to my car while noticing my two hours were up on the meter. I got in the scorching hot black Jeep and opted to move my car to a different part of the shopping district. I found street parking on a side street one over from the main street with all the shops and begrudgingly began to window shop. I had planned on getting my schoolwork done so that I had no stress and could lollygag around Greenwich, but I was now just annoyed and had the weight of the work on me.

I happened to stumble upon a few tables and chairs on the sidewalk and looked up to see a cafe. How glorious! I peeked inside the windows and saw they have indoor seating as well! Oh joy! I scurried back to my car, grabbed my backpack and scuttled on back to the cafe of my salvation.

I walked inside and saw many two-top tables, bar seating, and a cozy nook of leather chairs. I ordered a coffee and a muffin at the counter and chose the cozy nook WITH AN OUTLET!

I happily plugged my laptop in and checked the time to see it is 1:30pm. I still have time to take this test and walk around afterwards. “Iced latte for Sophia,” is called from the bar and as I grabbed my afternoon pick me up from the counter I overheard the cashier tell a customer, “Oh yes I am sorry the Wifi is actually down today.”

Whaaatt!?

I went back to my nook, clicked on Wifi options, and saw that the cafe network will not connect. Eating my blueberry muffin and fed up with technology, I accepted defeat.

Left with no other option, I closed my laptop for the last time that day and decided to explore the city I traveled to.

I thanked the baristas and walked out of my once called salvation cafe. I brought my backpack to the car, threw it in the trunk, and only took my wallet and sunglasses with me for my next task, which is to try to have a good time exploring Greenwich.

With the knowledge that I won’t get the school work done, I moved on and immersed myself in seeing the beauty of the town. I shopped around and then went for a walk around the gorgeous neighborhood in the middle of Greenwich, CT.

Brick building with classic windows and a big tree with the sun shining through.
I totally loved the classic buildings and the simplistic charm. Taken August 20.

From the store-lined streets to the towering houses, I was in awe of expensive charm. I had never seen anything quite like it. I strolled the residential blocks and popped into a few stores, including Aritzia and Restoration Hardware. Luckily all the shops were open and welcomed customers in as long as they wore a mask due to Coronavirus precautions. I did not end up buying anything, but I tried to capture the day by taking a few photos. I always like to look back on trips and the memories are able to shine through pictures. Then I sat in the Greenwich Common, a miniature park shaded by trees, with benches for tourists to relax on and for employees to take their lunch break near.

Finally able to take a breath, I was reminded of my love of travel and the ability to experience new places. I felt a ping of sadness reflecting on the time wasted trying to be productive when in a new and breathtaking place.

I realized I was not meant to be on my computer for two hours taking an exam (that is not due for another week, might I add). I was meant to enjoy the world around me and focus on my surroundings in a new place.

Greenwich was beautiful, filled with classic architecture, an array of shops, custom homes, warm weather, and the ocean just a mile away.

As I drove back to New York to pick up the boys from golfing, I smile about my hectic yet fulfilling day.

Hydrangeas I saw on my walk around the neighborhood.
Hydrangeas are at a peak at this time in August, especially on the East Coast. I spotted these on my walk around the neighborhood. Taken August 20.