April 16th, 2007

Two days after my London experience I headed back; repacked and refreshed. Unlike the previous trip, my train journey from Chester to London Euston was not crowded, which came as a welcome relief. From Euston Station I jumped the Tube to Waterloo. The Eurostar left from Waterloo Station; as I headed from one end to the other, I felt as though I were in line waiting to board a plane. The entire trip from London to Paris only lasted about three hours.

Stepping out of the train and onto French soil was more than a little thrilling. Although the station included English signs alongside French, I knew that as soon as I stepped out of this British-French station the English words would melt away. I had a battle plan soon after leaving the station. I wrote in my journal the streets I needed to take to get to my hotel; even noting which way to turn once I left the station. I walked out into the brilliant French sunshine; the absolute hub of the city encircled me and I chickened out to the point of following other British tourists to the line waiting for taxis.

The ride was not very long and cost 7.10 Euros. It was a taxi I was glad I had gotten; traveling is such dirty work and who wants to haul a suitcase around a foreign city looking for a hotel? I was dropped off in front of my hotel--Hotel Paris France on the Rue de Turbigo near the Republic--and happily was shown my room. The whole hotel was done in a blue/gold style with a sleek-looking rounded elevator that could just barely hold one person and one suitcase. My room was at the top of the stairs; I had a huge bathroom, all tiled white with only a shower. The thing I do not understand about showers in Europe are that there is little to no lip to stop the water from spraying absolutely everywhere. My bathroom was no better; the showerhead was placed right in front of the toilet. The room itself was quite spacious for a single-room. The bed was nice and clean, I had two sets of large French doors opening onto the beautiful and busy Rue de Turbigo. A little overhang allowed me to walk out and take beautiful pictures of the surrounding buildings. At night I could even see into other people's apartments across the road. I was more than a little surprised when I discovered there was no trash bin whatsoever in the room.

Not wanting to waste the rest of the sunny day, I followed my directions to get to the Carphone Warehouse to get a Virgin Mobile Sim Card. I haven't been in many cell phone stores in the US but I ended up waiting for almost an hour. When it was finally my turn, I tried in simple English to show her what I needed. After a lot of finger pointing and more useless English, I finally got what I needed. I wanted a quick dinner because 1) I was tired beyond belief and 2) I did not want to be caught in Paris my first day after dark. Now, it was a longish way off till total darkness, but nevertheless, I wanted to get something quick. I bypassed a McDonalds and finally decided on KFC. I ordered well enough for knowing no French whatsoever and took my meal back to the hotel. Somehow I did not realize that I would have French instructions for the Sim card and therefore it was rendered totally useless.

I went downstairs to ask the hotel desk clerk who checked me in to help me with my phone. He listened to the instructions but could not decifer what exactly I had to or wanted to do. He suggested that I try using a pay phone with my credit card because it would probably be the cheapest option. I went a block or so down the street and found a payphone and tried calling home; I was able to connect and was relieved that I was able to talk to mom before she freaked out and emailed the hotel confirming my arrival. I did not realize, until a few calls later, that the rate was quite expensive--more or less $70 for an hour call.

After chatting, I headed back up the street and to my room where I watched ER and 2 1/2 Men in French. I watching two television shows I would never watch in America, I realized that it was because of a need for familiarity in an unfamiliar place. I fell asleep at 8:30om and slept until 9am.

April 17th, 2007

I woke, took a shower and headed out into Paris for the first time on my own. I decided to bite the bullet and try my luck at the Metro; if I didn't then, I wouldn't get anywhere. I had previously read online how to use the Metro including how to insert the ticket and so on. I made it through Art Et Metiers station and headed to Chatelet. The thing about the Metro, which is similar to the Tube in London, is that there is a woman announcer for each station and therefore was able to learn a little more French.

At Chatelet I emerged from underground and found in the beautiful sunny blue sky day an even more beautiful city. From my first few moments in the heart of Paris I knew that I loved it more than I ever would London. Firstly, the weather was much warmer and sunnier than my time in London; secondly, the stone in which most of the buildings were made out of were of a light cream color which enhanced the light and the cheerfulness of the city.

I walked over Pont Au Change to the Ile de la Cite to experience a classic Parisian sight: Notre Dame Cathedral. I remembered back when my dad had found a 360 panoramic view of Paris from the top of Notre Dame on a winter's night. At that time in my life, I did not know that I would be going to Paris and so I viewed the picture with a heartfelt longing and desire to experience the magnificence of Paris.

Completely unexpectedly, there was a small fee for seeing most of the museums and churches in Paris; I will conceed this point is the only point in which London wins over Paris. I cannot remember how much I actually paid to enter the cathedral but to pay anything was overpaying in my opinion. I thought it would be much grander and beautiful than it actually was; I was thoroughly unimpressed by the whole experience. The tour groups and families with small children were loud and the cathedral's vaulted ceilings only served to magnify the noise. Thinking back to that day, I cannot specifically remember any particular part of Notre Dame; I did enjoy the outside of the cathedral more than the inside. I took lots of pictures around a beautiful pink flowering tree. The flying buttresses were a sight, much more interesting than anything inside. I walked around in capris and a t-shirt, the temperature hovered in the lower seventies.

Walking around the area, I happened on a small cafe that looked user-friendly enough for me. Father and Son Restaurant had a large glass case filled with several levels of delicious looking sandwhiches and pizza and further down, desserts. I found out that there was a lunch special of a sandwichi or pizza, a dessert and drink for 7.20 Euros. I ordered a Roma Panini (chicken, cheese, mushrooms), a double chocolate eclair, and an orange drink. The panini was quite delicious but the eclair was amazing; nothing will ever compare to an eclair from France.

I decided to continue on my exploring and took the Metro to St. Michel-Notre Dame station, which was one of the most confusing stations I encountered except for the RAR train line. I emerged at the Musee d'Orsay and joined the already humongous line to get in. Luckily there was an English translation for which line to wait in and I joined the correct one without embarassing incident. Eventually I arrived at a security guard near a revolving door in which he only allowed a few people in at one time. Once inside, I went through a security checkpoint and then on to the cashier. Luckily he spoke some English and I got in with a student discount for 5.50 Euros.

I took an English map from the entrance and headed into the train station-turned-art museum and my breath was instantly taken. I had seen the inside several times online as well as in guidebooks but once I stepped into the main hall, I knew this is where I would spend the majority of my afternoon. I made a beeline for a traveling exhibit entitled "The Forests of Fountainbleau" and was quite astounded by the beautiful depictions of the once great forest surrounding Paris. One particular painting in the exhibit made me stop and soak the whole canvas in and that was a Gustave Moreau painting that resembled a painting depicting an Arthurian legend. Another favorite was "Orphee" by Francois-Louis Francios.

The main hall showcased statues and a few interesting miniature opera set stands from La Traviata and a complete miniturized layout of the streets of Paris underneath the floor with glass overhead. I wandered in and out of the galleries; I was thoroughly amazed by the gigantic proportion of some of the canvases. I recognized one immense painting from my art history class; I cannot remember the name but it had something to do with the painter sitting centrally while a half nude model looks over his shoulder and a cacophony of others crowd around to watch the masterpiece unfold.

Some of my favorite paintings were Monets, Manets, Degas and Renoirs. I saw "Olympia" and felt a boost of self esteem to recognize it. Because of the Musee d'Orsay I fell in love with a few new artists I had never heard of before; Celestin Nanteuil, "Un Rayon de Soleil," Hendrik-Willem Mesdag, "Soleil Couchant," and Jean-Francois Millet, "Le Printemps." I found that I am drawn to the pastel muted colors of landscape art, my favorite being Monet.

I sat on one of the marble-ish curved seats along the outside of the galleries overlooking the statue hall when a heavyset British man, who had been sitting near me for a few minutes, let a huge fart go. He even leaned his butt over when he did it too! I thought it was a joke or something but he continued to sit like nothing ever happened. I thought to myself, 'Excuse me, sir, what do you think of your stay in Paris? Do you like the French?' And his response would be that horrible embarassment of a reverberating sound.

I stayed in the museum for 2 1/2 hours; I headed upstairs to the topmost level to view the Van Goghs; this level was much more crowded, hot and dark and I did not care for it. I left as soon as I possibly could but not before snapping a few pictures of some famous Van Goghs, a Renoir and a Monet. I headed out onto a open-air roof-top terrace and took in the amazing view. I went down the escalators, wandered a couple more minutes, saying goodbye to a beautiful museum, and then left.

Into the sunshine and brightness of the day; I crossed the Pont Sulferino to the Jardin des Tuileries. Paris' gardens are quite wonderful little rest stops from the business of the street and tourist traffic. I walked through a grove of shady, leafy trees and saw a small boat pool where a few young children were piloting their toy boats. I exited the garden on Rue de Rivoli and, as custom, took a picture of the sign. I traveled the Metro back to Art et Metiers and it was when I was walking back to the hotel that I realized that I had no debit card and only 60 Euros in cash for the rest of my Paris trip. I panicked at first because I wouldn't do a cash advance on my credit card and my phone bills would be racking up soon and I hadn't paid off my card before I came so I was in trouble if I didn't watch my spending. As I neared the hotel I also realized that I still have my room to charge on my card. I would save my cash for a possible taxi to the train station and any emergency necessities that did not take credit card.

I figured that I would be okay until I came home and I was. I went out to a cafe near the Republic for dinner and brought back a hot dog panini (there was some gooey stuff inside and I thought it was cheese but it didn't have a taste like a cheese so I thought it was warm mayo but as I learned once I came back from overseas that it was Brie cheese) with flan nature (flan with fruit) for dessert.






April 19th

Part 2

After the quick rest at the hotel, I struck out to Pere-Lachaise Cemetery. I had read in multiple guidebooks that cemetery visiting was not an uncommon pasttime. I traveled the Metro and after walking a few blocks, I found the main entrance to the cemetery. I could see looming over the old rock walls a huge domed building which I found to be a crematorium. The cemetery was absolutely beautiful; tree-lined avenues, huge family masoleums, intricate sculptures and artwork, it took me by complete suprise. I entered the main gate and proceeded to stoll along the avenues in a random fashion. I saw a gorgeous tree-lined steep cobbled avenue and so up I went. The only thing I would change about the whole experience


Eiffel Tower Part 2

Sitting on the plastic vinyl couch, writing my postcards, I had this fleeting desire to stay up there all day and into the night; it had all the necessities--a restaurant, bathrooms and a view like no other. Alas, I could not stay there forever and after finishing my postcards, I did as Samantha Brown suggested and mailed them from the Eiffel Tower in order to recieve a special stamp on each. My total Tower time amounted to about 2 hours. I took pictures from each side of the Tower in between the many tourists already vying for the best position for photographs. All things must come to an end and my time was up; I made my way on wobbly legs toward the staircase to take me back down to solid ground.

There were several people behind me waiting to get back down--both good and bad at the same time: good because then I would think of the people behind me waiting to leave and I would not think about being so high up and just focus on getting down. The bad thing was if I had a freak out and could not move or if I want to take my own time and go at my own pace the people probably would start to get mad cause I would be going so slow. When I got back onto the ground I took a bunch of pictures for my desktop--looking up into the Tower from directly underneath it, zooming in on the side struts, then some distance shots of the actual Tower itself. As I was walking away from the Tower to find some better shots, I ran into two guys stopped me and began asking me questions in French, one of the guys had a camcorder and tripod. I got it across that I did not speak French and the one doing the interview tried in broken English to explain that they were students doing a project about the upcoming elections in Paris for President and wanted opinions. I laughed and said I did not even know who was running, that I was just visiting for a few days. They laughed too and thanked me for my time. The heat of the afternoon was approaching and so I decided to take a quick rest back at the hotel. I climbed aboard the RAR train line, once again a little nervous that I was not going in the right direction, and eventually got back to my room.

Paris Cemetery
After the quick rest at the hotel, I struck out to Pere-Lachaise Cemetery. I had read in multiple guidebooks that cemetery visiting was not an uncommon pasttime. I traveled the Metro and after walking a few blocks, I found the main entrance to the cemetery. I could see looming over the old rock walls a huge domed building which I found to be a crematorium. The cemetery was absolutely beautiful; tree-lined avenues, huge family masoleums, intricate sculptures and artwork, it took me by complete suprise. I entered the main gate and proceeded to stoll along the avenues in a random fashion. I saw a gorgeous tree-lined steep cobbled avenue and so up I went. The only thing I would change about the whole experience was the bugs that swarmed in little patches and stuck in my hair so I wanted more than anything to go back to my room and wash those stupid gnat things out.


April 19th Continued...

I was entranced by the absolute beauty of the cemetery; the statues, the artwork on tombs, and the magnificent masoleums. I could not believe how different a cemetery in Paris is compared to one in Cedarburg; wide cobbled avenues, towering leafy trees, vine flowers climbing trelises over stone coffins. Some of the statues were so melencholy that it changed my mood of wonderment to a general feeling of sadness. To my surprise there were not many angels as I would have thought; the female statues were both young and old, bronze and stone. The whole place had an air of reverence and respect. One tomb had a bright mosaic depicting a bright orange sunrise or sunset with rays shooting out across the blue sky and purple clouds.

I was surprised at the amount of Romanesque type semi circled columns surrounding a tomb. Most of them were a bit ruined but that added a beautiful timeless elegance to the cemetery. I wandered on a stray black cat stalking through the tombs; a woman and her child stopped to watch the cat as it continued out onto the avenue and stretched out in a patch of sunshine.

I did not find Oscar Wilde's headstone or Jim Morrison's, not that I really know either one or really cared to find them, but I wanted to get pictures. The map of the cemetery was too hard to read and try as I might, I could not find either one. I did see some amazing masoleums; some had intricate stained glass (most glass windows were smashed), others were built to resemble mini cathedrals, and others were so large they required an iron fence with a gate surrounding it.

I was on my way out of the cemetery when a French dude came up to me and started talking to me in French. I tried to tell him I did not speak French and I felt a little uncomfortable with the whole situation; this was a prime spot for me to get mugged--quiet, not many people, tombs to hide behind. I was able to walk away quickly; unfortunately I wanted to get some more photos but went with my gut telling me to get out and onto the street. I did and felt instantly better. I think I would have been a mugging victim if I stayed or didn't leave as fast as I did. However, if this guy was really professional, he probably would have mugged me and not hesitated.

I took the Metro back to the Republic and walked down to what I thought was a grocery store. It took me several seconds of gaining my confidence before I actually went inside. Once in, I realized that it was a grocery store. I spotted a rent-a-cop type guard and felt a little wary since I do not speak French and if he suspected anything of me I could not explain I did nothing wrong. I spotted a mini refridgerator right before you had to pass through a little metal gate to get into the main grocery part. I picked out a cup of kiwi, a pasta salad with goat cheese and red peppers, a box of two wraps--a chicken caesar and chicken salad. I also bought a glass container of chocolate mousse which was the best mousse I have ever had in my entire life.



April 20th, 2007

After the amazing experience yesterday at the Pere Lachise cemetery, I decided to head over to another cemetery in the Monteparnasse district. I entered through the main gate and was rewarded with Simone de Beauviour abd Jean Paul Sartre. There were many little trinkets left on the tomb; I did not have anything really to leave and so I didn't. I was quite happy to know someone in some cemetery in Paris, we had just learned about Simone in my Women's Writing class and Sartre was one of the philosophers we studied a couple of years ago in Litarary Criticism. Where Pere Lachise cemetery had a certain garden beauty to it, Monteparnasse cemetery was like an artists studio. There was a huge bird type sculpture with wings and a orange beak.

I was able to get some really great shots of faces of the statues against blue sky and trees. I also stumbled upon the grave of Baudelaire--a poet and philosopher. Another tomb had little blue polished river rocks/plastic shaped as a heart with an 'M' in the middle. I could have spent hours in those Parisian cemeteries.

The last grave I visited was that of Charles Pigeon and his wife. It was along side one of the walls of the cemetery, it was so big you couldn't miss it. The tomb was shaped as a bed with a headboard and an angel on top; the angel held out a gas lamp. Charles Pigeon was the inventor of the non-exploding gas lamp. What makes this grave so interesting is that Charles and his wife had statues carved of them and placed them on the grave bed. So in this cemetery there is a bed with a man and a woman laying in it, and the man is half-sitting with a book in his hand. I will admit that it was more than a little creepy.

After the morning cemetery walk, I took the metro to Cite and ate at my favorite Parisian restaurant, Father and Son Restaurant near Norte Dame. I had a Roma panini and a chocolate tarte. Afterwards I went back to the hotel and then took the Metro to the Opera Garnier stop. I took several pictures all around the outside before heading in. Once inside I learned that the rehersal was still going on. I decided not to miss this opportunity to see the Opera, even though the main theatre was dark. I bought my ticket and started exploring. The lobby was absolutely grand; I was reminded of the grand staircase in Titanic, only marble instead of wood and with higher ceilings. There were magnificent wooden carvings on each of the bottom of the staircase of women holding these immense candleabras. Surrounding me were three stories of marble brilliance. I headed downstairs to wait for the crowd to die down on the grand staircase. I was rewarded with a beautiful fountain carved into the wall and floor. I turned down another hallway and found a circluar room filled with mirrors on the walls as well as the ceiling. It was absolutely amazing to see.

I went back upstairs to wander through the most ornately decorated hallway I have ever seen. It was almost as wonderful as the pictures I have seen of Versailles; and it was the closest I would get to Versailles. I walked down the immense hallway, carved gold chandliers hung every few feet, a mural on the ceiling depicting what looked like a Biblical scene. Further down the entire ceiling was covered in brightly painted murals--none of them faded or darkened by smoke from candles. On one side of the hall were floor-length windows that lit the hall with natural light. I wished I had a friend or boyfriend to pretend I was there for a performance and we would dance our way down the hall. I didn't have one so I took pictures instead.

I got some good pictures of the grand staircase but the lighting was really bad and with a flash it altered the actual colors of the marble to a washed out white color. I went upstairs and found the small wooden doors opening to the box seats of the theatre. The theatre was indeed, dark. I snuck into a box seat and watched, along with other people in boxes around me, as the crews set up backgrounds on the stage below. I could dimly make out the Chegall painted monstrosity of a ceiling before I left. I found a small library with one of those wheeled ladders and hundreds of books and little dioramas of opera sets.

I left the Opera satisfied with my self-guided tour. It was at that theatre where the Phantom of the Opera was originally concieved on account of the rumor of an underground lake lurking beneath. I wandered around the Opera and stumbled upon a very weird restaurant called The American Dream Multiplexe. It was a two storey black facade building with neon lights and life-size figures of Elvis, a highway cop (Chips?) and the two Blues Brothers. It was a nice sight for my foreign-wery eyes.

After the Opera I went to the Rue de Rivoli to do some of my last minute shopping for souveniers. I bought a bunch of Eiffel Tower keychains, a mini box of purfumes for Katie, a stylish black purse that says 'Paris', a bag for mum with a cat on it, a t-shirt for Alex with 'Paris' written on it and a t-shirt for Aiden and a toy for Rosie. I dropped the souveniers off at the hotel and reluctantly went to the Louvre.

My experience with the British Museum in London completely changed my outlook on major museums--they are far more trouble then they are worth. I got to the Louvre about late afternoon/early evening. There was not a long line to get in and so I waited to get into the glass pyramid. Inside it was quieter but not deserted; I went to get a ticket and learned that 26 and under students are free after 6pm on Fridays. Unfortunately did not have a student ID or drivers license on me but the woman was nice enough to let me in. I went downstairs first, to the basement and walked around a medieval fortress. I made my way up and saw Etruscan artifacts and mummies. I figured that I would get the two main sights out of the way first and then take a leisurely walk around the museum. I saw the Venus de Milo, which was not very impressive at all. Then I headed over to where the Mona Lisa was hanging. In the room there were mounds of people piling up on one another to see the painting. A rope was stretched out about ten feet in front of the smallish painting. No cameras, phone cameras or video cameras allowed. A mean looking security guard paced back and forth in front of Mona Lisa, pretty much blocking everyone's view every few seconds.

When I finally made it up to the rope I took one look and thought 'Wow, now I know why some people think the Mona Lisa was Da Vinci in drag.' It was very ugly--I think the reproductions in textbooks are touched up a bit cause the woman was ugly! I moved out of the way soon enough but not enough to make me less stressed or hot. I wanted to get out; people kept stopping in front of me and I got so angry. I left the Louvre vowing never to return.

It was my last night in Paris and I still hadn't had a crepe. Since I didn't eat any dinner, I went to a McDonalds on the Rue de Rivoli to get a cheeseburger or something. I stood in line for 7 minutes without getting any closer to the register. I said forget it and left. I tried to find other fast food places around but they were all closed! It was a Friday night! I walked inside this cafe, thinking they would have a cooler with some food that I could take out. As soon as I stepped inside I realized that this was a fancy cafe--linen napkins and tablecloths--and I was clearly not dressed the part. A few couples turned to look at me and before I could turn to leave a waiter came up to me and said something in French. I told him I spoke English and asked if there was take-away. He understood and showed me outside on the sidewalk there was a take-away counter for me to order from. I thanked him and ordered a chocolate crepe. I got it and headed happily to the Metro to get back to the hotel and eat my crepe. I was hot and tired and wanted to eat my crepe. It took forever to get back and on the Metro a guy said something to me in French but I thought he was talking to his friend and I just ignored him but as soon as I stepped off the train he yelled something else.

I ate my crepe and it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted in my entire life. I went out to get some McDonalds afterward and packed for my ride home. I checked out fine and took the Metro the next day to the Eurostar station. I had my own seat and it was not crowded. When I got back to London I had to buy a pass to ride the Tube to Euston station and from there I went to Chester. It sounds so quick here but in reality it took a long time and traveling from Metro to train to Tube to train and then walk the several miles uphill to get back to my dorm house was almost intolerable. But I made it and I wouldn't change my experiences in Paris for anything.