So, remember that lady crying in reception who had all her stuff stolen? Turns out that she'd left her hotel window open while she was in the bath and they'd broken into her room. Seems Paris is actually less safe than we expected it to be. I think, as South Africans, we just assume that anywhere we stay would be safer than our own country, but I've never heard of people breaking into hotel rooms!
Apparently it's a thing in Paris because, before we even checked in, Jen told us to ensure that our bags are locked every day before we leave the hotel room. Now, I don't want to be funny, but if you are having problems with break-ins, shouldn't you consider putting burglar bars on the windows? That's a pretty low tech and simple solution to the problem. And it's not as though it would significantly obstruct the view of the back of the building next door or anything...
The French don't seem very savvy when it comes to safety, it seems. Instead, their skill seems to lie in decorative lighting, if the Christmas lights on the Champs Elysee are anything to go by! The night we checked in, we battled some crazy traffic (they don't drive very well, either) to get to the Arc de Triomphe, where we were blown away by the beauty of the city by night.
Everything is bigger than I remember it being. The glass pyramid outside the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, and my word, the Eiffel Tower is insanely big. Apparently they intended to only leave it standing for 25 years and then intended to take it down. Honestly, I can't imagine why you would build anything that incredibly large if it was intended to be a temporary structure. Taking down the tiny Statue of Liberty or Egyptian Obelisk would make more sense.
As we were driving by, the Eiffel Tower, it got all flashy and for a full five minutes the entire thing sparkled with flashing lights. It was really stunning. We felt super spoiled.
After our drive through Paris, we headed back to the hotel. The streets are too narrow for the bus to get to the door, so we got dropped off under a bridge nearby. At least we were in a large group, since after the events at the hotel, we were getting the impression that we were in a rather dodgy area.
Luckily, our possessions were still intact when we got back to our room. We took the opportunity to do some washing in the bathroom basin before we hit the sack (classy, I know). We have packed very little clothing because we were hoping to do a lot of shopping, but if the next day in Paris is anything to go by, we are not going to have the time!
The next morning, we woke up to a fantastic breakfast. The hotel may not be particularly secure, but they make up for it in their kitchen. There was scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, sausages, super crispy bacon, croissants and pastries, fruit, yogurt, and cereal, and coffee and orange juice on tap (with your choice between pulp or no pulp).
It's a good thing we ate well in the morning because it would be a long time before we stopped to eat or drink again. Our morning was mostly filled with our trip up the Eiffel Tower. Since our tickets were already paid for, we breezed past the queue and were taken straight up in the lift. As we stepped out on the first level, we were greeted with the amazing smell of French pastries. You can even have croissants while up the Eiffel Tower!
We continued higher and higher, taking another elevator, until we were as high above Paris as we were going to get. It was freezing cold up there, and the wind threatened to blow my camera out of my icy fingers. My hands actually hurt from the cold. Despite that, it was great to be up there. We were able to make out the many sights below that we'd seen on the bus the night before and took some great pictures.
We didn't have much time to hang around, though, since Paris is a big city and we had a lot that we wanted to do. We stopped to look at souvenirs, and then we made the long trip down to the street (that's how big it is - the elevator rides take forever).
From there, we went to the Metro train station with a group of the Australians and Canadians. Working out the train and ticketing system took a bit of time, especially since it was all in French, but eventually we had made our way to the catacombs, where we had to queue for a bit.
Everyone spent the time comparing driver's licenses, which was interesting, since they look so different. In Canada and Australia, they actually have different looking ones from different regions. Some look better than others, which look like student cards!
We were finally let into the catacombs, taking a very long and steep spiral staircase that made poor Nicole feel motion sickness on the way down. It actually took a really long time before we got to see any bones. There were some information boards, then a lot of very gothic tunneling, some carvings of buildings in the rocks done by bored but artistic diggers (who were also prisoners), some wells, and then finally the rows upon rows of very neatly stacked bones and skulls.
It appealed tome a lot more than it did to Nicole, who is more into art than gothicness, like I am, and she wasn't thrilled by the second dizzying spiral staircase up to the street. She was amused, though, by the low roofs of the tunnels, saying that medieval french people were probably her height. From there, we were completely disorientated, but the super sweet and friendly French people (and I don't mean that sarcastically at all) helped us find our way to the correct Metro line to take us to the Notre Dame.
By this point, we had lost all of our travel companions in the maze below the city. It was unfortunate, but we were able to make much better time as just the two of us. The queue into the gothic church moved quickly, and we were able to admire the incredibly high arched ceiling and the large, intricate stained glass windows. There was actually a mass taking place while we were there, which was awkward. It almost felt like we were interrupting.
We took a quick look around, then headed to the staircase outside that leads up to the bell towers, but that queue was moving very slowly, so we decided to give it a miss and go get some lunch instead. Our day seemed to be slipping by faster than we were able to get through Paris.
On our way to the Seine, we past a vendor selling sandwiches and bought ourselves Croque Monsieur (a French toasted cheese and ham sandwich). We sat on a bench on the bridge over the river to enjoy our little French picnic, while an accordion player next to us played some typically French music. It was unbelievably romantic and so quintessentially Parisian. Without question, that is the best lunch I've ever had and one of the favourite moments of my life.
Following that, we headed off for the Louvre, getting directions from more helpful locals. The street signs in France are somewhat obscure and confusing, but we eventually arrived. Luckily, we didn't have to queue to get in, since Jen had told us about a "secret" entrance that many people don't know about. We got our tickets with no trouble at all and set off in search of the Mona Lisa.
The Louvre is one unbelievably enormous maze (something I did accurately remember as being huge), but luckily the route to Mona is very clearly marked at every turn. The Mona Lisa, on the other hand, is something else that I remember as being smaller than it actually is. The last time I was at the Louvre, we were not allowed to take photos, but at some point since then they have relaxed that law.
Once we'd taken our photos, Nicole collapsed into the first available seat to rest her feet. She hates hiking, and I always thought it was because she hated the outdoors, but it seems that hiking through Paris was not appealing to her either. After giving her a quick break, I convinced her to take a look at the Napoleon III Apartments, which has some of the original furniture and decor of King Louise XIV.
On the way, though, she kept taking a break on any available seat that she could find. She was really taking strain, so we decided to head back to the hotel via the Christmas markets along the Champs Elysee. As we headed through the park, which is charmingly decorated with pretty hedges, statues, and ponds where children were sailing there boats on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
As I was taking photographs, Nicole had spotted another seat at a pond. The French really love to sit, it seems, because there is seating absolutely everywhere. You don't even realise how much of it is around until you are with someone that has very weary feet and is snatching breaks everywhere she can.
We finally made our way to the edge of the Christmas markets, where I let her wait while I went to get us some "hot wine" as the French call it. We relaxed for a while, savouring the warm deliciousness (Woolworths microwaved gluewein has nothing on this!) It did wonders for both Nicole's spirit and the condition of her feet because she hit the Champs Elysee with a decided spring in her step.
On the way, we got some more wine and a gingerbread heart to share while we looked at the quaint markets. Considering we were n Paris, and the Christmas markets with gingerbread and hot wine are quintessentially German, it was amusing that American carols were being played in the street. It was an interesting cultural mix.
Beyond the markets, we got to catch a glimpse of some of the designer stores that the street is so famous for, but we had run out of time to do any more exploring. We needed to find our Metro and get home to get ready for our big night out. With the help of more friendly Frenchmen (I don't know why everyone thinks they're so rude, really I don't), we found our the Metro and managed to find our way back to the hotel.
Nicole had been convinced that her feet would hurt too much to wear heels, but she seemed fully recovered when she finally emerged looking gorgeous! A few of our travel companions commented on how lovely she looked, and as we were standing outside the Moulin Rouge, a French guy hit on her and actually kissed her twice!
We were seated at our tables for dinner, which was served immediately. Nicole and I enjoyed Foie Gras, which was divine, followed by steak, which was tough, served with potatoes and green beans, which was lovely. We also got to enjoy some Champagne, Reisling, and a Bordeaux blend. Dessert was a layered chocolate mousse of white, milk, and dark chocolate.
The Moulin Rouge looks nothing at all like the movie and is much smaller than I expected it to be. The show itself was a lot of fun. The costumes and set were excellent, making up for the less impressive music and dancing. There was a lot of lip synching, I think. Since it is advertised as THE cabaret show in Paris, I must say that you do expect a bit more, admittedly.
Nevertheless, I loved the experience! Even the weird part where a naked lady wrestled enormous snakes in a tank of water (might have made more sense if I understood French). Oddly, even though the dancing ladies were topless, the show is not all that sexual. Lady Gaga was fully clothed in her show but was much more sexually provocative. Still, I can imagine that the soldiers during the war loved it!
The supporting acts were actually better than the show itself. There was a guy that juggled seven pins, some very impressive acrobats, a very funny mime, and a contortionist (which kinda freaked me out). Right at the end, when everyone returned to the stage, the supporting acts got the loudest applause.
Regrettably, I don't have many photos from inside, since you aren't allowed to take photos. I snuck one of Nicole and a few of my food and the wine we had. I have discovered that I just can't eat unless I've taken a photo of my food. Nicole reckons I'm an idiot, and everyone else seems to think it's odd too, but I'm collecting the cheapest souvenirs because of it.
After the Moulin Rouge, some of our traveling companions wanted to go out drinking. I was still considering joining them, but we'd had a very long day, and Nicole wasn't feeling it. At the hotel, I began uploading some photos of our day. When I woke up, it was 3am. I'd fallen asleep in my clothes on my iPad.
I found out the next morning that Nicole had tried to wake me (by tried, I mean that she said my name, which is less effort than she implied) and I just apparently growled and rolled over, so she just switched off my light and left me in that position. Guess I wouldn't have been much fun if I had gone out after all!
No comments:
Post a Comment