MY TRIP TO FRANCE. Part Two: Glorious Paris

May 28, 2012 (Tuesday)

Day Two

The first view as we leave our Hotel Avalon

What a day! Rachel estimates that we walked about five miles today--I am sure it was at least twenty!  I was very uncomfortable at times but for the most part we did great.  The weather was perfect but I should have brought some sunscreen.  We walked to the Louvre, the Arch de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower.  We took lots of pictures, ate great food and rode the Metro home. 

A scooter has bit the dust. It appears to be a mechanical problem.

The foods we ate were:  baguette and jam for breakfast, a crepe for lunch, made by a Pakistani man on a vendor’s cart.  It was filled with a provolone type grated cheese and canned mushrooms.  The crepe was so thin and light and when it was done cooking, he folded it in half, then half again to make a triangle.  What a delicious lunch.  We found a windowsill to sit in and enjoyed it.  At the Eiffel Tower we got a glaces, a French ice cream cone.  Vanilla/pistachio in a waffle cone.  So good!  For dinner we ate another kobab but at a different place.

 The famous Paris Opera House.

          The walk for about two miles went very well but then we felt a few blisters and then my back and leg hurt so that by the end our badge of honor was huge.

          We did not go see the Mona Lisa, nor did we go into the Louvre at all because there were so many in line that we both happily said, “No!”  The Jardins were so beautiful and we sat and talked and situated our bandaids on our “hot spots”.  We walked some more and stopped to adjust our bandaids.

 At our favorite cafe.  The bottle is how tap water is served.

          We got to an Arch between the Louvre and the Jardin du Tuileries.  I looked at its beauty and carved intricacy and could only say, “Is this it?” of course thinking it was the Arch du Triomphe!  It was a lot smaller than I expected and did not seem to engender the awe and attention I had expected from the crowds around it. 

 Tucked away in a side street is the entry to apartments.

          As we walked a little further, the real “Arch” rose in the distance and a thrill took me over.  From where we were, the Arch was about two miles, yet so clearly stood the edifice!  To get there we experienced Champs-Elysees, the avenue leading up to the Arch.  Mostly it is gardens on both sides of the street with a cement and a dirt (the “dirt” is kind of a cream color) path for walking with the ever present bike path that is truly a risk to one’s life to venture walking in it!  Rachel is always directing me out of harm’s way whenever I, like a toddler needing minding, wander into its path. 

 The renouned Cheese and Mushroom Crepe.

The Champs Elysees is a steady uphill slope but nothing that hindered our progress (any hindrance could be blamed on blisters and my bothersome leg pain).  Then it became a vast row of exquisitely expensive shops below the multi-story (nothing here in Paris is less than about 5 stories high) buildings on both sides of the street, which has eight lanes of traffic. 

 The first Arch we come upon.  Is this it?

When we reached the top, we found that the “street” around (I mean “round”) the Arch not only allowed no foot traffic but had no lines painted on the road.  It was pretty much a free for all!  Rachel video taped it for Facebook.  It was a miracle that no one, even at the speed they were changing directions, was hurt or even “fender-bendered”. It was wide enough to accommodate about 4-5 (unmarked) lanes of traffic and only went around it one-way counter clockwise.  We could cross any of the twelve streets that converged at that mad, “roundabout”.  Each crosswalk had a foot traffic light yet it did not seem that the cars had such a light, so we all had to go in a pack, like caribou in the North must stay close within the herd so as not to be picked off as the wolves would the strays!  All the people walking and those driving seemed to understand these rules.  I am certainly glad we got the hang of it (Rachel being the seasoned at it) before I became road-kill. 

 In the distance, two miles away we can see the real Arch du Triomphe!

We crossed under the road through the tunnel provided for those who visited the monument.  And small wonder I exclaimed, “Is this it?” at the other, smaller arch!  This was so big and so strong, ornate and beautiful.  Every building including the Arch de Triomphe is the same color, kind of an off white or gray rock color, seemingly unpainted.

 A Giant Sequoia in France!!  Located along the Champs Eylsees.

There was a long line of people waiting to ascend the Arch.  The line was in the underground tunnel.  I could not determine whether there were stairs to the top or an elevator.  But it was a bit of a shock to me to see them up there (as we approached the Arch on Champs Elysees).  They lined the entire top rim!  I need not say we had no interest in joining them—me because of the elevation and Rachel the lines.

 A public toilet.  Men and women go in the same room, use proper stalls.  All very different from home!

 The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier directly under the Arch had an eternal flame burning.  The awe became much more of an atmosphere as all of us who stood around moved more reverently, knelt to photograph it or stood in retrospect at the site.  Moments like that when all there shared the same feeling together, with no none to create it except the common knowledge that many have died alone and “forgotten” in the tragic and horrors of war so that others like us don’t have to, was unforgettable and truly indescribable.  A beautiful part of this epoch trip.

 Proof I was there!

The next leg of our trek consisted of getting our (well mostly my) sorry joints and nerves to the Eiffel Tower.  We would consider a cab or Metro, only to shun the thought for the stories we would tell later.  So we pressed on.  I wasn’t sure where we were because we took smaller, quieter streets, taking in the contrast of the boister of Champs-Elysees and the stillness of its near neighbor streets. 

 No doubt about this Arch!  The Arch du Triomphe.

 After many rests, chats, wonder and bandaids, we finally arrive at a park where we could see the Eiffel Tower.  We had been depending on Rachel’s amazing sense of direction because the buildings along the way had prevented us from seeing any sign of the Tower which we had only spotted in the distance from the Arch.  Once we began walking we were on our own.  Rachel never seemed to be lost, just confident that we were going in the right direction.  Indeed upon reaching the garden area where it rose before us, her acute sense was evident. 

 The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

The river below was teeming with boats and barges, people in them and along the quay and the street.  We were back in the tourist realm.  Making our way through the maze of foot-traffic required much strategy, but even facing these challenges could not dampen our complete thrill in every view we had before us:  The famous Tower, the Seine River, crossing over it, the people everywhere, the ice cream (glaces), the lines yet again of those heading to the top. 

 This is a very common sight, a cobblestone street.

 We walked under the Tower, gawking like tourists, taking in the amazing structure.  I got a little dizzy looking up while we stood directly under the Tower.  It was actually small for being such a world icon, but no question about the grandness, and the power, and the dignity!

 The view of the Eiffel Tower as it comes into our view.

We then had a fair amount of walking (more like walking wounded…albeit happy) to reach the Metro, which would take us back to the area of our hotel.  I had not, for some reason, been aware that the metro was a train (a subway/el).  I kept asking Rachel if a certain bus was the Metro.  It did not occur to her then that I really did not know. 

 It's more of a feeling than a description when you are by it. 

So the adventure of the Metro began as we secured the tickets at the kiosk (another story of language and technology) and rode escalators up to the bridge to board.  Once on, we soon were underground without having the sense that we were descending.  The fact that Paris is not flat may have helped but we had to have gone down and up to accomplish the journey.

We loved taking pictures of the carved doors and stone moldings. 

We had the whole experience in two routes.  We had to ride #6, get off, then board #2 for the remainder of the trip.  It was important that we both get off together.  It became evident that a plan needed to be made in case we got separated.  The boarding and getting off happened so fast so as to require athletic moves.  At one point, a man brought on a stroller and was between us and the door.  Also I noticed that bicycles are permitted to be wheeled right in and could cause a bit of a barrier to quick disembarking.  We had no mishaps and ended up together on the el platform at Rue-Ste Chappell (a stop too soon for us).

 The Metro.  We rode this several times.

We must have walked another mile to get back to the Hotel.  Rachel complained of pain and weariness, no doubt to assure me that I was not the only broken cog on this wheel.  I do know better, but I appreciated her message that my physical inferiority was not spoiling her day.

          We both rested (nice way of saying “collapsed”) in our room before getting our Kobab for dinner.

This is the entry from my travel journal.

I took 85 photos on this day!

Next time we go, we're bringing moleskin.