Paris, 4-6 July

Paris!

Well, the French are, in a word, French. Spiky, annoying and, well, very French. We flew into Paris (Beauville, not De Gaulle) arriving (as seems to be our trend) late.

First, we left Galway on the 3.30am bus. Sounds like it should have been a quiet trip, about an hour or so long at 3 in the a.m. Seems like it wouldn't be that bad, right? It was interesting, that's a good way to put it. It was Saturday night in Galway, the largest small city in the area, and all the locals from the itty bitty towns in the vicinity came out to party in Galway. Well, we took the last bus out, and so did they. A drunken, singing, stinking bus that echoed with pub songs and laughter. As the drunks slowly filtered out, it got quiet and we fell back into standby mode, but it was an interesting start to our journey. We got to Shannon airport around 5, and said our goodbyes to C, he was headed home and Air and I were off to our last half of the trip. Hard to believe it went by so fast! Well, as per our usual, the flight (a 6-something travesty) didn't leave the ground till like 8 or 9, and we got into Paris about noon.
(Funny sidestory: We fly into Paris and the first thing we have to do is passport control, just like every other country we've flown into. Sometimes, like Italy, they just wave you past. Others, like Ireland, they question you about what you're there for and how long. Or, if you're Parisian, you make the non-EU line wait 20 minutes while you finish your cell phone conversation, without even acknowledging the 70 people waiting for you to hurry up and let us go. Thanks, French border patrolman.) We managed the metro and even made it to the hostel with little harm. We were exhausted from no sleep, and all we wanted was a shower, but we got into the hostel before check in. So, being that it was France and all, we had to drop our bags and wander about until after 3. We decided to walk to the Lourve (not all that far, but a healthy hike) and when we got there, we were confused for a few minutes as to how to get in, and how to get tickets. We tried to ask the guy standing at the tours entrance (for the huge guided tours), and he just told us to go on in. We were baffled, but pleased. And then we found out that entrance was free that day. We were no longer confused! The first Sunday of the month? Why, the museums are free on that one day! Yay!

So we toured the Lourve. We made mistake numero uno by not grabbing a map, and the next one was not planning what we wanted to see at all. We got lost in the Medieval Lourve exhibit for a while, and then we got turned around in Dutch Painters. Oh, and Napolean's rooms. Those were about as opulent as it gets, and we were so hot and lost that we just kind of stormed through. It was kind of like Howth last year, where the heat had us all going around taking half hearted pics saying "It's fucking beautiful, can we go yet?" In the end, at the end of our endurance at any rate, we picked up a guide and found our way to the only two things I had really wanted to see. "Winged Victory" and the Mona Lisa (we *were* in the Lourve after all). We even took funny photos. Probably I should have been more, "oooh, art!" but after a while you look at museums in the same way: ooh, ahh, that's artsy. Unless you have an art fetish, museums can be the bane of your travels, they can bog you down in groups and they can set friend against freind when it comes to lines and waiting. It was pretty awesome none the less.

After we found our tired way to the hostel, got a room and took showers, we had to wander back out for food. Always an interesting conundrum in foreign cities: how late are your stores open, and can we actually buy food there? In small places things usually close around 6. Larger cities, 8. And in some urban ceters, a whopping 9pm is the limit. Sometimes I miss my consumerist identity.

With food in hand we went to find the advertised "guest kitchen" which included a vending machine for coffee, one for pastries, and a microwave. Oh, and a tiny sink. Unimpressed, we took our sandwich makings upstairs and had a slightly less than glamorous meal. We did find out that breakfast was included, and that you got tokens for the vending machines for that breakfast. Actually, it was better than some we've run across, but overall that hostel was about the WORST we'd had to stay in. In a six bed female dorm we had one window, a shower and sink. One toilet, ONE, for the whole floor. That was about 7 rooms, and at, say, 4-6 per room? Yeah. You do the math. We ran into a few cool people there though, so not a total loss.

Day two had us taking a walking tour of Paris, New Europe again, and it was fabulous. We spent the morning wandering all over Paris learning tidbits of history and getting oriented. We walked from Notre Dame to Champs-Elysse, then after that Air and I went on our own tour/adventure. We started somewhere below the Arc d'triumph, and we walked up the Champs-Elysse to the Arc. It was, as far as Arcs go, fairly impressive. Though the more entertaining (and impressive) thing was the eight lane roundabout that goes around the base of the Arc. An accident occurs there (on average) every twenty minutes, and your collision insurance doesn't apply if you get in an accident there. Oh, you Frenchie French people. We saw a fender bender, but nothing crazy. After that we wandered over to the Eiffel Tower (which is painted in three different colors so that it always appears against any backdrop) and did the tourist pictures and gawping. We also took pictured of the guys who were painting the tower-- they had to hang off of it in harnesses and swab paint on with long poles.

(As I am writing this, there is a cat caterwaling outside another apartment, and I am being laughed at for replying. I'm just being polite, the poor thing wants attention.)

After the Tower, we got lost. Very hot, sweaty, hungry and painfully lost. We persevered though, and after lunch (a box of profiteroles om nom delicious nom) we managed to find Notre Dame again. We hadn't actually seen it at all, aside from afar and even then it was misty and early. So, it's about 5 and we get in line to go inside the church. Let me tell you about Notre Dame. When you walk up to it, at first you think two things: how small it seems from the ground, and how detailed and absolutely impressive it is anyways. Notre Dame was constucted to hold the entriety of Paris' population (standing) when it was built in the 1200s. The statues look down at you from their pedestals, long necked and stern, they seem to point at you and reproach you for not grovelling in abject fear and awe. They aren't kind faces, but they do seem to have a kind of stern honor and, in the right light, they almost look like they could smile. The gargoyles, a notable feature, are entertaining. They have different faces, each a little comical or frightening in their own ways. We stood in the shadow of her towers, and Notre Dame, Our Lady, gave us sweet, blessed relief from the sun and heat. We walked inside and tried to find the best vantage point to see the rosette windows, but there were seats roped off at the best point, so we had to make do with what we got. Still, what an impressive sight, the eveining light filtering through the rosy glass. The other windows aren't to be laughed at, the artwork and detail on them is exquisite.

Thus ended that day, and we made a feast of baguette and leftover penaut butter and honey. Mmm.

The next morning we set out for Versailles, and it was FANTABULOUS. We set out to the trains, and had to switch twice, buy new tickets, and it was a royal wank. We found a whole gaggle of people, though, who, like us, were waiting for the train at the wrong binario. We managed to catch the train and, frankly, when we got off the train I kind of went, "well, where is this awesomeness?" We wandered, looking for an atm of all things, and just stumbled on a view of Versailles. Opulent isn't enough to describe this palace. Pictures do it justice, to a degree, but we stood in the courtyard for two hours for tickets, and believe you me, the thing is just impressive. For a crazy king, the guy certainly had no taste and was all for the over-indulgence form of decor.

It was probably 100 degrees in the brick-lined courtyard, and only about 87 in the rest of the area. Hot, hot, and more hot. Air and I weren't really prepared for the wait in the shadeless nightmare of the line. I took my scarf and wrapped my head with it, and Air took her overshirt and did the same. We have pictures. We were hungry, and didn't have anything with us to eat, so I volunteered to go scouting. It took about 40 minutes to scramble to the city center and back, and I never once saw a grocery store. But there was a fresh market closing up in the streets, so I bought a bunch of apples and some bread and hoofed it back. Also, I ordered in Italian, and the guy talked to me in French, but we both knew what was being said. Weird.

I got back and Air hadn't moved too far in the line, so I switched, put the scarf (which I had taken off and given to her for the wait) on my head and set about eating an apple and waiting. And waiting. And some more waiting. It took almost two hours to get tickets, and then another few minutes to get through the line to get in. Once we were in though, it was like a whole new experience. The Hall of Mirrors, the King's and Queen's chambers... "When in doubt," said Air, "gold gilt. It brightens anything." That's a good summation of the decor. It *was* beautiful though, and after a few hours of wandering, we finally made it to the gardens. Which, if anything, were more amazing than the palace itself. Acres of sweeping green, a canal and plenty of side gardens for all your royal shenanigan needs. We ended up slumbering for a bit under the cool shade of the trees planted along the Grand Canal. Then we watched people throw other people into the canal and laughed. It took almost a half an hour to walk the two miles, TWO MILES, of gardens back to the Palace. After that we managed to get seats on the train headed back to Paris (as all the signs say in English, all trains go to Paris from here, just take any of them!) which was fortunate because it was packed. We had to decide between going home and seeing Monmarte after dark, or going to Montmartre and not eating until we got back. We chose Montmartre before dark... The red-light in Paris is kind of scary, even in the daylight.

I was not happy with the walk up the hill, which was more of a trudge really. Monmarte is the artist's sector at the top of the tallest bit of Paris they could find. Air postulates that it was because they wanted to be left alone; I say that they were a bunch of drugies and drunks, and just wanted to be left alone from the coppers, so they took the bit no one wanted. Then it became artsy, and we all know the eventual progression of any art movement is that it starts off shunned, then it gets noticed by the "cool" people, then it gets noticed for being noticed, then it's all so old and uncool that everyone who wasn't ever even related to the word "cool" goes there now and the "cool" people have buggered off. Whew.

The very top of the hill is the church, the Sacre Cuore (Sacred Heart?) and it, for all it's odd architecture, is fairly amazing when the sunset hits the white marble. It lights up a dimly reflective pink and the whole square is left in a dim twilight as the sun sinks. The stairs of Montmartre are popular venues for street performers, hawkers, and the occasional wedding proposal. We sat there at the top of Paris, eating ice cream and watching the sun dip below Paris. You could see Notre Dame in the distance, and if you looked just right, the Eiffel Tower as well. A good ending to a whirlwind trip through Paris.