31 kilometers in 60 hours
Topic: Paris trip 2005
[Apologies in advance; I can?t find the button to put accents on all the appropriate vowels.]
Day 1Note to self (1): When buying e-tickets, remember that Elisabeth?s maiden name is still on her passport. This will prevent an awkward situation while you?re trying to board the plane when you?re told that you can?t because the ticket name doesn?t match up with the passport name. Luckily the dunce behind the check-in counter should have been the one to catch the discrepancy and so there?s not much that they can do about it.
Note to self (2): The Parisian check-in lady will be more alert and catch the problem and be kind enough to bend to rules for you and tear up your old ticket and print out a new, ?corrected? one. The moral of the story: Always travel with your marriage certificate.
At the airport we discovered that the French have a knack of turning Elisabeth beet red. The first occurrence is during her passport check and the officer, upon seeing her Canadian passport says ?Ah, une cousine.? At which point, Elisabeth blurts out in true Quebecois fashion ?Ouai!? Much to the officers amusement.
So we arrived in Paris and were bowled over by so many things. Mostly the pace ? No one running around being busy-bodies like in the UK. Everything?s at a much more relaxed pace, Canadian style. We were even able to stop on a street corner and look around without having anyone bump into us.
I?m not even going to touch upon the insane architecture and city planning. Consider me suitably impressed.
We checked in, walked through the Champs Elysees and pretty much got our bearings; saw the opera house, wandered about. I ate the best baguette I?d ever had and realized that my vegetarianism would be severely challenged seeing as most Parisians were under the impression that fish grew from trees. Luckily there were lots of pizza joints.
We hit the main drag that night and soaked up Parisian tourist culture and had a late supper. My accent, as usual, sucked but once I got over the embarrassment of it, people were happy to talk back to me in French.
At least 5 kilometers walked.
Day 2Got up, ate, walked along the Seine to the Eiffel Tower and then along the Left Bank, passed by the Musee D?Orsay and ate lunch. Walked to Notre Dame cathedral, Sainte Chapelle, and then wandered around the area until we found a marche, fromagerie & a boulangerie. Walked back to the hotel and crashed.
At least 16 kilometers walked.
That night we became acquainted with European culture: German MTV, French games & variety shows, and of course, CNN.
Day 3Checked out of the hotel, ate, decided to take it easy so we walked up to Sacre Cour & then toured Montmartre. It started to hail so we hid in a cafe. Then we walked back to the Champs Elysees to see it in daylight and realized that exhaustion and grumpiness was setting in & we still had 4 hours ?till we were picked up to go to the airport. So we loitered in Cafe before setting out and walking for the 100th time through the Jardin des Tuileries, did some window shopping & checked out the insane antique shops outside the Louvre.
At the very, very least, another 16 kilometers walked.
I?m still to pissed off to go into what happened at Charles de Gaulle airport; suffice to say that it involved, in a microcosm, a reenactment of the current state of American/French relations post-9/11 and climaxed with a bottle of Orangina exploding all over my crotch.
And that?s it; back to England. If you have any questions, post them below and I?ll fill in the blanks. Elisabeth will be posting her own version of events soon enough.
