Last Farwell - Hungary

The farwell party took place at a club called Studio 74 not far from Arkad, so we decided to walk. It was a dance studio at the second floor of an old building, at the top of a narrow staircase. We gathered along the walls staring at each other. Everyone was there and everyone had brought food.
   Our dance teacher arrived to teach us Hungarian dances and we all stood, ran and danced in a huge circle. Then, after a lot of sweating, we thought our friends the Norwegian “slå på ring/hit the ring” and had a good laugh.

   After all of this, the mood kind of died. We knew it was our last minutes. For many of us, it was probably the last time we ever got to see each other. Two of the girls left and it was on. We all hugged each other, and lost count of how many had left and who. I hugged a Hungarian guy, but met him again at the bottom of the stairs with the girls. “One more!” we all screamed and hugged again.    
    Before leaving the building John pulled me to the side saying “I have to give you something.” So we went outside to the top of the staircase and he took of his bracelet. “I want you to have this.” And he put it on my arm. “A reminder that I will seriously come looking for you to get it back.” I was touched. So was the others.
    We stood outside hugging and smoking when Sophie's father came to pick us up. I didn’t cry. I know John nearly did. But that night I was thinking of leaving and I got rather sad. I didn’t want to go, I didn’t want to leave this beautiful summer country and all their weird tasting food. Nor the pancakes.

(Derp picture, we only filmed that night...)

-Mari Clémentine

30 degrees, Nutella and cards - Hungary at its best

I woke up and felt fine! After the last 30 hours I really needed that even though it’s our last day. Last breakfast. Last busride to school. Last day at school. It was surreal. I didn’t want it to end yet. Of course I was tired, but if I could have just slept for the weekend, I would’ve been fine!   The school was still huge and old, but I loved it and when having our presentation, knowing that it didn’t set a grade, I had fun. For the break they took us to their class to introduce to some non-englsih-speaking guys. It was weird. 

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We all went to one of the girls after school. They had a huge garden with a tent and fruit trees and benches and so on. It was a hot day. The sun was shining, it was 30 degrees. What was not to love? Oh, the bbq’ing. Haha, Hungarian food is not a favourite and I knew more was waiting at home. When not lying around in the shadow I was playing cards with some Hungariansl. We thought them Norwegian card games such as Idiot and Turn the 8. We ate some cooked meat and potatoes before going off to the mall to get some new shoes.

World’s best mom
I love my host family and with another Norwegian girl in the house things were even better. She was staying in my room and we decided to try on each other’s clothes for tonight’s "Farwell" party. I borrowed her new dress and she borrowed my new skirt from Budapest. Then I asked the family to take a family-picture with me. It turned out really well and I also posed for some with Muffin, the dog.
   We got some summer-grilled-meat for dinner and then, in the memory of me saying “The best thing I know is pancakes with nutella” we got pancakes with nutella! I could barely finish one, but got the other for night-snack later. Oh, I love my life! 


-Mari Clémentine

I'm on Twitter!

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(and listen to this absolutley awesome song while you read my stupid updates)

-Mari Clémentine

Vintage Shopping in Paris!

So as for Paris, fashion will always be linked to it when you talk about it you will always say something about fashion, and maybe vintage. Well, yesterday we went to the market at Duplex where they have everything from food to socks, makeup, DVDs and iPhone covers. “Scarfs! All colours! Red, blue, green, beautiful, ugly. Scarfs!” I don’t know what you can’t buy at the market, I don’t know what you can’t get to half the price at the market, but I love it. I almost love it as much as I love Marias!

Lalala, didn't take many pictures, but here's a YouTube vid about the district!

Marais is the one place in Paris where you can find high-end designers for less if you are patient and not claustrophobic, it’s many vintage stores out there. So yesterday we went out shopping as for myself I found a lovely denim shirt from Levis, a fur- to only 15 euro and yesterday’s treasure a denim shirt from BOSS to my father, what did I pay? 10 euro. At the (possibly) best vintage store in town: Free P Star! 

Mari Clémentine 

Favorite Destinations 2013: Paris (part I)

Paris has become a second home to me, visiting the city at least every year it’s a highlight, a delicious break, it’s like dessert. I first saw Paris at the age of 11, sick and tired I spent way too much time in Disneyland, but we came back. Again and again and I fell in love, again and again all the way from the Eiffel Tower, to Sacre Coeur, down to the Statue of Liberty and the Montparnasse tower.

    Sitting down at the steps of Sacre Coeur I know I’m at home and in the right place. From there you can spot the Eiffel Tower, Montparnasse, Notre Dame, Les Halles, all of Paris at your feet. “Elle est tres belle,” a man said to me. My French had always been bad so I just smiled at him and agreed. Paris sure was beautiful. It would always be, cause it made me feel peaceful and in place. At home. 

-Mari Clémentine

Travelling.

It’s the feeling you get when you order hot chocolate at Starbucks, the man asks for your name and you answer: “Clémentine,” and hi says: “Oh, yes…” because you do it every day. When you feel so sorry for the dogs belonging to the man begging on the corner that you buy them food. That’s when you’ve fallen for a city and started to make it your own. That’s when the real journey begins. When you smile and they smile. When people in the little shops knows what you’re going to buy, before you buy it, when people come over to talk to you randomly on the street, when everything’s new and you need help to explore. This is when the journey begins. Love.

Mari Clémentine