Madrid, Spain to Paris, France
After spending another lovely, sunny day working (waaah! waaah!) I packed up and shipped out to the airport to catch my flight into France.
One thing I want to say about the Charles de Gaulle airport that first-time visitors may not be aware–if taking the public transportation, be prepared to get screwed. Although there’s a metro station inside the airport, it costs about $10 or so to go through the gate. (Even though individual Metro trips are about $1.25) For example, last year when I picked Brian up at the CDG airport, it cost me $10 to enter the airport because I came by train (yes, I paid $1.25 for the Metro ride, then $10 to enter the airport) then $10 apiece to leave the airport. Bogus, bogus, bogus.
Disneyland Paris is the same way. You take the regular $1.25 metro, and Disneyland is the last stop. However, to exit the Metro gate, you must pay an exorbitant fee. I think it was close to $20. Each person, each way. So factor that cost in to your travels. (One may be able to circumvent the system through one devious plot or another, but you can’t count on that. There are Metro attendants there to watch for such shenanigans.)
So, after dropping my stuff off in my hotel (which is a hotel/hostel on the Republique square) I took the Metro to Trocadero. The Trocadero stop not only has an awesome view of the Eiffel Tower, but also features vendors who sell a variety of hot, yummy crepes. I got mine with nutella–deelish! I also arrived just in time for the Eiffel Tower lights to go all sparkly and do their glittering thing. This was cool for me, since I’m usually fairly far away from the tower after nightfall and all my past photos of it lit up at night have been from a distance.
I asked some Americans if they’d photo me in front of the tower, which is how I got the horrifically blurry shot attached to this post. Imagine that’s me, with a hot chocolate crepe in my hand, and the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the background. =)
Erica
P.S. You might notice the bright straps on my shoulders in many of my photos. These straps belong to my backpack, known affectionately as the R.B.O.P. (Yes, my backpack has a name. Can you guess what it is?)
