Voyage a Paris!
Trip Start
Jun 19, 2008
1
10
16
Trip End
Aug 25, 2008
Where I stayed
St. Christopher's Inn
Paris, Île-de-France, France
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Saturday was a long day, beginning at 4:00 a.m. on a coach bus trip to Ashford. Ashford is about a couple hours east of the University where the Eurostar station is located. Going through the Eurostar station was a lot like going through one of our airports. There was a security check-in station, a baggage xray conveyor belt, a metal detector, and passport checkstation. This was my first journey on a bullet-train, and let me tell you: 186 mph looks as fast from the inside of the train as it does from outside! The landscape just seems to blur by, except for what's farther in the background. The trainride reminded me of traveling by air, except better! The seats were more comfortable, bathrooms of equal quality, and there was even a bar on-board where you could purchase food and drink.
The hostel we stayed at was a newly built one called St. Christopher's Inn. It was very modern and the walls all over the hostel were covered with American pop-culture, which was a little disappointing to see. A small posse gathered up and we headed out into Paris to do some sight-seeing. After figuring our the metro, our first destination was the Notre Dame. It's magnificence on both the out and indoors was staggering. The ornate carvings on the face of the church and its buttresses were unbelievably intricate and precise. Whenever there was a repeating pattern it was done with such delicate symmetry that you might believe a machine had created it in a factory. Indoors we were hushed and allowed to walk around the entirety of the church. As I strolled down the side corridors, I couldn't tear my gaze away from the vaulted ceilings and stained glass which seemed immeasurable lengths above me. You could tell in an instant why people risked their lives on long pilgrimages just to see this place, and why they were so ardent in their religion. Seeing this place as a lowly peasant in the Middle Ages must have stirred your soul and moved you to undoubtedly believe in heaven on earth. As amazing as the intricate and mammoth-sized architecture was to me now in 2008, I can only imagine the reactions back when it was completed in the 14th century.
After Notre Dame, we walked the streets of Paris, following the Seine River up to the Louvre Museum. We were told it was free on Saturday, but it turned out to be untrue. We did get a pretty good look around the lobby and above-ground, which was pretty in itself. We walked further down through a large garden in an attempt to see the Arc de Triomphe, but it escaped us somehow. We literally saw it one minute, then the next it had disappeared behind buildings. We did see, however, the Eiffel Tower and decided to walk over and investigate that. On the way we stopped at the Pont du Alexander III, an ornate bridge across the River Seine decorated with bronze and stone statues. Once at the Eiffel Tower we checked prices and the group decided it would be better to return at night when we could go to the top and see the whole city lit up. More walking ensued. This whole time I was actually able to hold my own in the native tongue with what little French I have learned, which was boosting to my confidence. Though by no means a master, it was the first time when I had actually survived on my own with a new language (I don't know how, but I ended up being the translator and communicator of the group). It must have sounded horrible to the french, but I was proud.
The rest of the evening went by without much cause for celebration. It was wonderful seeing the beautiful buildings of Paris, but I have to admit I wasn't really attracted to the really touristy areas we had been visiting. It wasn't the Paris I had seen in my head - I hadn't even heard one single accordion player yet. The University bought us tickets to a River Cruise, so we went on that. It proved to be quite chilly since the sun was setting, but it gave me a nice review of all the places we had just seen along with the outsides of some sort of famous museums. As we passed the Latin Quarter we heard live salsa music playing and people dancing and having a good time in a sculpture garden, which was pretty cool, but still not the Paris I had envisioned.
It finally became dark, and we decided to get in line for the Eiffel Tower. The tower was lit with a beautiful blue at night, and every hour strobe lights covering the tower activated, making it sparkle among the black night sky. The line took a long time, but we finally made it to the elevator. When I stepped out onto the first observation deck (about halfway up), I have to admit I was a little timid. I don't know why, but being on a structure where I can see the crooked steel girders and supports totally exposed made me feel a bit uneasy. Regardless, I tried to acclimate and admire the gorgeous view as we waited in line for the second elevator that would take us all the way to the top.
We were crammed into the second glass elevator and shot straight up. We went floor after agonizing floor, getting higher and higher, wondering if we would ever actually reach the top. It was worth it, though. As the doors opened and we all plunged out of the claustrophobic space we were greeted by the observation deck. I don't need to use any fancy language to dictate: we were reeeeally high up. The panorama was beautiful, though. In every direction you could see the avenues and streets of Paris lit up and then sparkling along the River Seine.
On Sunday the group I was with planned on going to Versailles. I wanted to take a little break from the masses of tourists and their souveneire-facade of Paris, so I decided to have the day to myself. I had planned out a few places I really wanted to see before arriving in Paris, and didn't get the chance to follow up on them the day before due to the logistics of trying to get a group of people to do something everyone's okay with. I hopped on the metro with the Versailles group and got off before them at le Metro Blanche. My first stop of the day would be Montmartre, the old-section of Paris where love and art flowed freely, home of the Moulin Rouge and the Sacre-Coeur Basilica. Seeing a show at the Moulin Rouge was unfortunately out of the question, as a meal and a ticket cost upwards of 100 euros. As I walked up and out of the metro station, I was surprised to immediately see: The Moulin Rouge itself! I had come up in a little square with the identifiable red windmill and carousel-like lettering right in front of me. Afterward, I devised a plan to get to the Basilique de Sacre-Coeur and took off up the Rue de Lepic. This street embodied everything I wanted on my trip to France. It was quaint, cute, and busy at about 10:30 a.m. Locals were bustling about going to the open markets for their fresh fruit, the bakery for their bread, the meat shop for their ham, and the odorific cheese shop for their dairy. Everyone carried little baskets for the day's prizes and as I continued walking and admiring all the window-front pastries and cheeses, I heard the tunes of a French accordion being played in the air. Street performers, fresh baked bread, fresh baked quiches, cheeses, meats, fruit - pinch me! I don't know how long the cobblestone street I was walking on had been there, but it just added to the texture and feel of this little slice of Paris. It was a cruel trick of nature that I wasn't hungry for anything yet (for once), so I vowed to return for lunch.
I got a little lost trying to find the Sacre-Coeur, but went on a wonderful little detour of Montmartre. Ivy was growing everywhere, people were taking Sunday strolls, and the sun itself seemed to follow me as I walked the residential streets. I eventually made my way to Sacre-Coeur, which was marked by a 500% increase in tourist congestion. I had to brave an ally-way where stereotypical keychain-and-shot-glass tourist fare was out in full force and swindler's tables were set up all along its length. Once I breached this gauntlet, I could look up the hill and see the basilica in full splendor in front of me. It was the first hill I've climbed in a while, but it felt good to work my legs against a slope. The view was akin to that on the Eiffel Tower, except now the city was spread before me in the daylight. I walked inside the basilica and was greeted by a beautiful mural of Christ on the ceiling overhanging the altar in addition to the expected jaw-dropping architecture. I would've taken pictures, but cameras weren't allowed.
I then decided I would see the Arc de Triomphe, one of the few features I'd missed the day before. Traveling through the metro system again, I made it aboveground to find the Arc neatly displayed in front of me. I took the underground tunnel and got really close, but shyed away from going into the dead center by the throng of people gathered there. I backed up, took some nice pictures, enjoyed the scenery for a while then decided to be on my way. Of course it had lightly rained and before I could get completely back into the underground tunnel I had to slip and fall down a short flight of steps in front of a cute French girl and her family. So embarrassing...
It had finally happened: I was hungry! So I returned once again back to Montmartre, ready to eat the whole street out of all its wares. I went to the bread shop and ordered a loaf of bread, which the kind woman sliced for me, and then a little something I now consider baked gold: Vennoise au Chocolat. Probably the softest, most delicious chocolatey-bread-pastry I've ever had in my life, I felt like I could've eaten dozens. I also bought a plump white peach, an apple, and a basil, tomato & feta quiche. I felt like a hiker foraging for food around the street and stuffing it in my pack until I was ready to eat. When I had gathered everything, I settled down and ate it in the middle of the square in front of the Moulin Rouge. Is it sad that a lot of my fondest moments traveling involve food?
My last stop of the day was the one I had first planned on and was most eager to see: the Musee du Vin - the French Wine Museum! Nestled into a length of underground tunnels dug by wine-monks of the Passy Abbey in the 15th century, the museum was a testament to all things wine. It was not nearly as busy as I thought, I was practically the only one in there! Had I stumbled upon a gem? I ended up talking to the guy working the desk (he was about my age and we discovered he spoke English very well) and for a relatively modest fee he gave me an audioguide in English with the promise of a three-wine tasting session after the tour. I feel like a wino for saying it, but the museum exhibits were amazing. They had a collection of grape-pruning/harvesting tools, wine-making equipment, wine glasses, pitchers, and bottles all ranging in antiquity from the 15-17th centuries. I saw wine glasses with Napoleon Bonaparte's face etched into the rim and green decanters like the ones first developed for use on ships so as not to spill the wine. I saw heating vats, early chemistry sets (for testing the tannen levels, acidity, and properties of the wine), and all sorts of a variety of scythes, hoes, shoes, and grape-harvesting baskets. I got to learn a bit about wine-making and even some about the creation of champagne as well - which I have to comment is much, much more difficult and intricate a process than I originally thought. Wax figures helped keep the levity of the museum, though being alone in an underground cellar with them made me feel a little wary. You never know when one's going to spring to life and stab you in the back with a wine-sickle, you know?
After the tour I saw Stephan again and he showed me to the seating area for wine-tasting. He brought out a French red (rouge), white (blanche), and pink (rose) for me to try and explained a little that they were all from the Gaillac region. I went from red to white to pink, stopping for a slice of bread to cleanse my palate between each. These wines were the smoothest I've had since being in Italy last summer, maybe even a bit better. I tasted no biting acidity, and could actually stand to hold and taste the wine in my mouth. The Gaillac Rouge ended up being victorious over the other two, and Stephan allowed me to try one more glass before I committed to purchasing a bottle. I'm sure it won't last long, and I'm sure I'll be back again for more!
Comments
quoi, pas de photos?
non?