Paris, and back again

I spent the last four days in Paris. Yes, as in France, not as in Maine. It was kind of thrilling because duh-- it's Paris, France. We got up super early on Friday to catch a 5:45am train, and celebrated our arrival in a new, foreign-speaking country by eating the most delicious McDonalds food I've ever had in my life. Don't you dare make fun of me because I know how lame it sounds, and how lame it is, and how lame I am, clearly. CLEARLY. And besides, those cheeseburgers were FUN (especially if you were wearing a cardigan, which I was, and sometimes Chris. He thinks his was more of a party, but I'd put that up for debate). We made up for it by visiting the Musee d'Orsay on the first day, okay?

I know some of our Paris group doesn't love the d'Orsay, and thinks everything looks the same, but I know what I like, and I like Monet, Van Gogh, Degas, and Seurat, okay? So I wandered around by myself, listening to Light in the Piazza and crying over things like this:and:and:I kind of wish I had been able to stay longer, but at least I loved it enough to go back someday. Give it up for the French, who let you take pictures of their art, as long as you don't use the flash. Even then, they don't care THAT much, unlike the British, where you're not supposed to take pictures of, like, anything anywhere. We also saw the Eiffel Tower, walked up the Champs-Elysee and forced Joe to hold hands with me, ate real French bread, and then climbed to the top of L'Arc de Triumphe. As if I hadn't had enough of stairs at St. Paul's! It was a beautiful night, and a great introduction to the city. And with our snappy museum passes, we got up there for FREE (kind of), which made it even better.

Day 2 was my favorite. We went through Notre-Dame, which was kind of disappointing because it was so irreverent. I mean, I got shoved out of the way when I was trying to look at the statue of St. Joan so that some non-specific European woman could take a picture. It was sad. The Centre Pompidou was interesting. I've taken some modern literature classes, and much as I've tried to transfer my interest in modern literature to modern art, it's not always the same. Don't get me wrong-- I certainly appreciate modern art, and I will continue to go to modern art museums in a continued attempt to learn to love it more but... give me some Pissarro any day. The weather was cool, though, all grey and drizzly. We found a place to eat creatively called Flunch. I'm not sure why I think it's clever, but it's obviously a play on the word lunch, so I just laugh along like I know why it's funny. I ate pain, fromage, and a tarte, which is to say, bread, cheese and a tart.

The Stringhams, Kelsey and I went down to the Catacombs in the afternoon. Of course I went crazy psyching myself out on my way down because you have to go a really, really long way through the old quarry before you actually get to the millions of bones. I'll be honest, the bones themselves are not that creepy. It's actually oddly beautiful, and I was touched in a strange way by how all the cemetaries have been kept together and placed so carefully. It made me want to kick someone in the head when we emerged on the other side to discover security people checking bags because three skulls and a few leg bones had been swiped from the depths. Disrespect makes me hate people. When we met up with the rest of the group, we were going to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, but it was closed due to wind, so we decided to take a ride down the Seine instead. Evidently, Annie and I were entirely enthralled:
Within minutes of getting off the boat, the Eiffel Tower, now lit up all beautifully, start TWINKLING with a thousand little lights. The hour leading up to that moment made me love Paris. And how could you not with this lovely view?Conclusions after the first two days in Paris:
1. It is tres stinky, particularly in the metro stations where people have obviously peed. A lot.
2. I have never seen, or been accosted by, more beggers in my life.
3. Also, street performers. And these street performers also beg for money more desperately.
4. Seriously, the metro stations are disgusting.
5. Bread really is better in France.

Day 3 involved attending mass at Notre-Dame, which was very interesting but very difficult, because mass is hard to follow anyway, but this mass was also entirely in French. Tourists continued to live up to their obnoxious reputations by taking flash photography throughout the service. The Stringhams and I bounced off to the Louvre after that, and it is certainly one of the most impressively large buildings I've ever walked through. We were surprised, but not surprised, by the Free Admission Sunday line that we had to join, but we got into the museum pretty quickly anyway. Once I had developed a sense of how to navigate the place, I set off to find the few pieces I really wanted to see, most especially, Psyche and Cupid, where I had another life-changing experience, though it has since become more life-changing after the fact:

I'll be honest-- I only spent about a little over an hour exploring the Louvre. There were SO MANY PEOPLE there that I wanted to die. In fact, I felt like I was dying, and being so overcome with frustration and the distinct smell of people, I skipped down to the Louvre Restaurant and had a very expensive poulet et fromage baguette and chocolate cake, to the tune of 15 Euro. It was worth every cent, particularly as I sat by myself eating it and writing in my journal. It kind of saved my Louvre experience, actually. But I will say this, I'm now very inclined to visit the library and find out more about the history of the palace itself, not just the art it houses.

Caught up again with the Stringhams to visit Cemitere du Pere-Lachaise, where some Important People are buried in very interesting tombs that sort of remind me of townhouses, only for corpses. We said hello to Jim Morrison and Chopin and Oscar Wilde, and I hopped over to spend a few minutes with Georges Seurat. As I felt at the catacombs, I was so disappointed with mankind when we saw Oscar Wilde. You can't even read the name on his memorial, and it's apparently already been restored once before. Honestly, it just fit right in with the rest of the city in my mind, though, since it's COVERED in graffiti to begin with.

After miraculously finding Kelsey, whom we had misplaced earlier in the day (like one might misplace a handbag), we went up to Montmatre and I was pleased do discover that my romanticized, idealized vision of Paris does exist, just not where I expected to be (namely, downtown near all the big sites). I much prefered my Sacre Coeur experience (it being much more reverent since photos weren't allowed to be taken inside), and it started drizzling very prettily. Too bad my peace and tranquility were DASHED when we looked in the guidebook to discovering this startling, and depressing, bit of news:

Versailles (aka The Reason I came to Paris instead of staying in London four more days) is closed on Mondays for restoration.

Obviously, I was heartbroken, and nearly burst into tears on the spot except that I was too tired. This did not prevent me from a very dramatic, but warranted, reaction to the name Versailles written prettily in a metro station a few minutes later.But I guess it's nothing that an evening nap, some facebook time, and a nice girly chat with some friends can't cheer up because I was feeling much better within a few hours. I just decided to sleep in, have a leisurely breakfast, and we'd all go up the Eiffel Tower to celebrate the end of our weekend in Paris-- which is exactly what we did this morning.

After a nice grey weekend, we were glad to see the sunshine and a blue sky. The Tower was PACKED with tourists, pigeons, men who cut in line, Bosnian beggers, illicit Eiffel Tower keychain sellers (only 1 Euro, you guys), and people dressed in cool and interesting clothes that we're SURE must have stolen from people in our group. Pour example: tangerine-colored pants conveniently designed for women OR men! It was a GORGEOUS day, and sure it took a few hours, but it was totally worth it so that we could stand in the presence of where Tom proposed to Katie a few years ago!!!! I couldn't help but think of my dad as we crawled up to the top and how overcome with vertigo he would have been. I was a little surprised to find myself affected by it as well, so I guess it runs in the family. But the views were beautiful and I learned that Mr. Eiffel had a little apartment built for himself up there, which taught me how I wouldn't want to live on the top of the Eiffel Tower.

After a run across town to an... interesting... store called Tintin in the St. Michel area, we grabbed our stuff from the hotel and then headed off to the train that would take us back to beloved London. I have four stamps in my passport now, you guys! Overall, I'm really glad I went to Paris, and looking back, I really liked thinking about all the things I did and saw. What's interesting is that I did not love Paris while I was actually in Paris. Perhaps this is the reason why Paris has become so romanticized? If nothing else, being in France made me realize exactly how much I've fallen in love with London, so apparently, Paris does make you fall in love, even if you're not there with a lover (which I most certainly was not).

Interesting facts about Paris:
1. They really do drink jus d'orange, and you can get it most anywhere.
2. The fold-down chairs on the metro are pretty neat.
3. Apparently the French are REALLY excited about The Dark Knight and The Mummy 3 because you can't go six feet in the metro station without seeing an ad for one or both of them.
4. If you ask a cashier if they take Visa, mostly they look at you like you have lobsters crawling out your ears.
5. Even though there are glorified portipotties on most street corners, it doesn't stop people from taking care of business right beside them-- ON THE SIDEWALK.
6. People in France sometimes choose not to speak English, even when you suspect they might be able to.
7. The Seine wins over the Thames in cleanliness. This is basically the only part of the city I would actually call somewhat "clean," however.
8. Aside from some chocolate and little bit of French food (that wasn't even that exciting), I had no desire to spend any money on anything there.

Things I'll do the next time I happen to be in Paris:
1. Actually see Mona Lisa.
2. Eat crepes with Nutella.
3. Spend more time in Montmatre.