Versaille, France

I took the Metro to the train station. Here let me briefly describe the Paris Metro system. There are two networks, the numbers and the letters. The alphabet lines are more expensive, and run inter-city. The numeric lines are cheaper, and run intra-city. For some reason, the train station, like the airport, is not “in” city proper, so it took me one of each ticket to get there. (At least it was still in France, seeing how the Cincinnati, OH airport is actually in Kentucky.)

Each Metro stop is not only clearly marked, but also cleverly themed. The stop for the Louvre actually has art in glass cases in the Metro stop. (That would be stolen or spraypainted in about 5 seconds flat in the U.S.)

So, I get to the train station, wander around a bit, and come across the reservations room, where I go to buy my upcoming tickets. I wait in line for the International counter, and when I get there, what do you know–she doesn’t speak a word of English, so I had to explain everything in my pitiful French. She was very patient with me and everything worked out fine until I mentioned Budapest. “Where’s that?” she asks. “Um, Hungary?” I answer cleverly. (I had no idea how to say Hungary in French.) Nope, never heard of it, she says again, and hunts it up in her book. There it is–Budapest, “Hongrie”. “There it is!” I point, excitedly. She shrugs. “I don’t know where Hongrie is. You’ll have to buy that ticket somewhere else.”

Now. First of all, she’s a freaking travel agent for international sales. Secondly, it’s only two countries away, on the same continent. It’s not like I said Mozambique or anything. And lastly, who cares if you can find the place on the map! If it’s in the book, why can’t I get a freaking ticket?!?!

(Unfortunately, my remedial French prevented me from saying a single word of this snappy diatribe, so I smiled, said thanks anyway, and left.)

I hopped on the Metro for Line Yellow C (alphabet=out of city, remember?) and headed for Versaille. It was pretty easy to get there, but the doors to the train opened way before the train actually stopped. I cowered back in horror as people jumped out the doorway anyway, having to hit the ground in a stumble/run so as not to fall face-first to the ground. I was the last person off the train since I (very uncool-ly) waited for it to stop before disembarking. (Years of themeparking has brainwashed me. I cannot exit until the train has come to a full and complete stop.)

Versaille was beautiful, but very expensive. Each room in the palace cost 8-12 Euros to enter, and although there was a day pass I could have purchased, I didn’t, and contented myself with wandering around the outside. The gardens were pay-to-enter, too, although you can walk along the perimeter without a ticket.

The bathrooms, though, were the last straw because they were *also* pay-per-use!

When I left the palace grounds, McDonald’s was a welcome sight for the first time since outgrowing happy meals. No matter where I am in the world, the golden arches only mean one thing to me–public restrooms.

Also, this was the first time I tried to use my cell phone outside of Spain… And calls didn’t go through. I tried Florida, I tried Brussels… nothing.

At this point, it’s safe to say I was less than pleased. The store swore to me it would work in any European country. And sure, it does… if by “work” you mean that the power button turns the screen on.

To save you the suspense, I was only able to use the phone in one other country–Belgium. And that was only for in-country calls to Brussels from Brussels. No, I don’t get it either.

Tags: castles & palaces, technology, trains, travel tips

Paris, France

We began the day with a Paris city tour. Paris was founded by a Celtic tribe, and nowadays has a population of two million within the city limits, 11 million when counting the outskirts. Paris alone is 1/5 of France’s entire population.

Paris has 20 districts. The streets are generally wide avenues lined with trees. There are no big parks in the city, but there are two large parks just outside the city. Like Spain, menu prices are less expensive when seated at the bar than at tables.

At stops for loading/unloading passengers, tour buses kill the engine (and therefore the A/C). This isn’t to torture tourists–this is because there are strict anti-pollution laws, and if they don’t turn off the bus, they will get a ticket.

First I saw a Russian cathedral, then Montmartre which is called the Mount of Martyrs because of the legend of a Paris bishop who was beheaded here by Romans.

Next, I got to see Sacre Coeur, and although I didn’t go inside (I plan to do so later) it is beautiful on the outside.

Nearby, there is a square packed with vendors of all types (and, I’m warned, pickpockets) and their in-you-face hustle reminded me of Morocco. (Luckily, this was the only place in Paris that struck me this way.)

Paris is seperated by the river Seine and the people on each side are distinct, with their own different customs. We went down Rue de la Paix, an expensive strip, and Rue Saint Honore, and saw a statue of Napoleon. We also saw the Latin Quarter, and the Roman baths, which have pools of different temperatures (really hot, warm, and ice cold. M. Saint Michel, if you’re interested.)

I learned that the Louvre was a fortress in the 12th century, and that Notre Dame is the center of the city. This is also where Napoleon crowned himself emporer in 1804. I also learned that Notre Dame used to be colorful, with bright blues and reds. It would have been neat to see it in its original condition.

Place de la Concorde is the square where in 1793, Marie Antoinette was beheaded. At the time, it was known as Revolution Square.

We went by a 3000 year old Egyptian tower, then Invalides, then went to the Arc de Triomphe (me, for the second time). This is the biggest arc in the world. This area is also known as Star Square, because the streets intersect like an asterisk, with the Arc de Triomphe on a roundabout in the center. One of the friezes is of Napoleon dressed in Roman gear. In the middle of the arc lies the tomb of the unknown soldier from WWI, with its eternal flame.

Next we got to see the Eiffel tower. It was built out of iron in 1889 and at the time was the biggest monument in the world. People who lived nearby began moving away because they were afraid it would topple over.

The girls and I sat on a bench with a view of the tower and noshed on some crepes. It was the first surreal moment I’ve had since I left the U.S. Just standing in the sunlight, warm chocolate crepe in my hand, Eiffel tower towering in front of me. Sunlight for a moment, anyway–then the sky opened up and the rain came. Apparently, it’s not unusual for Paris to rain every afternoon.

That night, we dressed up and went back on the town for a night tour, to be followed by an evening performance of the Moulin Rouge cabaret.

We saw the statue of Napoleon as Caesar, and the square with the Ritz, next to the Ministry of Justice. We went by Cartier (a place to window shop for jewels) and the Paris Opera House, built in 1860. We went by the Louvre, whose modern art glass pyramid structure is comprised of 85 tons of steel. An interesting fact: the surface area of the Louvre is greater than that of the Vatican.

We went by Le Port Neuf (The New Bridge) which, in fact, is actually the old bridge–the oldest one in Paris. It used to be said that the bridge was so crowded, that on any given crossing, you were bound to run into a monk, a white horse, and a loose woman.

We went by the contemporary arts building, city hall, the Institut de France, the Latin Quarter, and of course Notre Dame. (No, not the one in South Bend, IN. The one from the 12th century, with the rose windows and bell tower.)

Next we hit the Place de la Concorde, which is one of the largest squares in the world. Its fountains were inspired by those in St. Peter’s square in Rome.

Then we rolled down Champs Elysees, which was the product of Louis XIV’s designer, who also created the gardens at Versailles. Here you’ll find the Grande Palais and the Petite Palais, as well as the oldest Metro station. The Paris Metro was begun on October 4, 1898 (two days after my birthday… if I were 107 years old. Which I’m not.) The Paris Metro runs three times the circumference of the Earth, every single day.

Champs Elysees is also the street with Fouquets, the oldest restaurant in Paris, where movie stars are often seen (and the menu prices prove it). We passed the Arc de Triomphe again, and I was amused to find out it exists out of luck–Napoleon had originally wanted to build a giant elephant instead. (And if Parisians could talk Napoleon Bonaparte out of an elephant, why oh why could no one talk George Lucas out of Jar Jar Binks???) The Arc de Triomphe was inaugerated on July 29, 1836–30 years after construction began. Napoleon was buried nearby in Les Invalides, also near the Church of Glory. (Magdalene/Madeleine)

The Eiffel Tower was created much like a giant puzzle, and the last piece clicked into place on February 24, 1889, and not to rave reviews. Besides the fact that everyone was sure it would collapse on their houses at the slightest provocation, it was also higher than Notre Dame, which made it unclerical as well.

Moulin Rouge. How can I describe it? The best I can do is this: The Moulin Rouge is Broadway meets Cirque du Soleil. But topless.

An overabundance of champagne was served at every table, the costumes were amazing, acts included strong-man type acrobatics and awoman diving into a tank with a boa constrictor, and dancing–of course!–included the famous French can-can.

Tags: cathedrals, food, museums, random facts & history, shopping, theatre & shows, travel tips

Madrid, Spain to Paris, France

I woke up, did my last load of laundry for a while, packed my bags, and boarded the bus for the airport. At the airport, my bags were too heavy, so I had to pay a fee, but what do you do when you’ve got all your stuff with you and you’re on your way to Paris.

Our flight took off about 40 minutes late, so we arrived a good half hour after planned. We picked up our luggage and bussed to our hotel: Novotel in La Defense, the very last stop on metro line yellow one, and (we were to learn later) technically not within Paris proper.

The first adventure of the day was discovering that I had someone I didn’t know for a roomate, and that the hotel rooms had a single king size bed, so we would be sharing.

I found Alison, and we were starving since the airline didn’t serve vegetarian meals, so we headed out to find some grub.

We took the Metro, and ended up next to a mother and her daughter. The little girl asked us, “Are you Americans?” and before we could answer, the mother said, “Isn’t it obvious?” (!!!)

Ali and I got off the Metro at the CDG exit (not the airport, but the exit) and when we walked up the stairs to street level, we were instantly rewarded with a view of the Arc de Triomphe. We walked around looking for a cafe, and we ran into Bryan, Paula, and Lindsay. (Weird how I keep running into people I know in such large cities. I *never* randomly run into people I know back in Tampa!)

We found a cafe and ordered some food and some water. We downed the first carafe in no time, and I taught Alison how to say “more water, please” so she could ask for it when the waiter returned. (She cracked me up by repeating it over and over.)

Once we sated our hunger a bit (I got salad and 4 fresh cheeses, none of which I recognized, all of which were good) we explored the Arc de Triomphe and had fun trying to find the perfect spot for a photograph.

All this photography worked up an appetite (yes, *again*) and we realized what we REALLY needed were some crepes. We found outdoor seating at a cafe on Champs Elysees and ordered up the most delicious crepes I’ve ever had. They were topped with ice cream and chocolate syrup! (Probably Nutella–Paris is huge on Nutella.)

Something funny: there are lots of ads in the metro stops for McDonald’s, but here it’s called McDo.

Tags: airplanes, airports, food

Paris, France to Málaga, Spain

Here I am on the last flight of this seemingly never-ending day. I am dead tired and my head is vaguely pounding. On the flight from JFK to CDG (Paris, Charles de Gaulle) I had an aisle seat in the center, so unfortunately I did not get to look out the window at Paris getting closer. However, I have a window seat on this flight, so I´ll get to watch Paris disappear and Málaga appear!

The CDG airport does not have food once you are through security for international flights. Eat first, or have plenty of coin Euros for the vending machines. I went through customs (who, disappointingly, did not stamp my passport neither arriving nor leaving), disdainfully passed by a McDonalds, went through security, and headed to my gate.

On the previous plane, at first I sat on the wrong side of the aisle. (I make mistakes at least once a year.) I blame it on the soporific effects of Dramamine and lack of sleep. I sat next to two youngish black women from France. I turned to the one next to me and asked (in French), “So, where in France are you from?”

She blinked and responded (in French), “I´m sorry, I don´t speak English. Could you ask me again in French?”

Well! This was a serious blow to my French self-confidence, let me tell you. What I *wanted* to do was fall into the bottomless pit I was hoping would appear any moment to swallow me whole. But since that failed to hapen (and since she´d asked so nicely) I tried again, this time enunciating as clearly as I could. “Where. In France. Do you. Live?”

This time, she smiled and answered, “Oh! In Paris.”

I returned the smile, told her it was my first visit, and retreated to my proper seat, resolving not to poison the air any more with my apparently incomprehensible French accent.

Tired as I was, I couldn’t seem to fall asleep. That´s when I started ordering the wine. (Come on! Free alcohol is one of the joys of an eight hour international flight, and besides, it comes with every snack/meal just like Diet Coke.)

After I was halfway throught the second bottle (There´s only one serving in each bottle. Really.) I was totally knocked out for a good hour or two. I kept waking up because they kept showing up to feed us. First, a snack (pretzels and wine) then dinner (there was no vegetarian option because the school forgot to forward the information, but they did come back around to give me another bread roll).

This morning (aka midnight EST) they fed us breakfast – some kind of pastry, peach yogurt (Dannon la créme), coffee and OJ. (No wine for me, although the guy in the row in front of me got a Budweiser, breakfast of champions.)

Tags: airplanes, airports, lost in translation, wine