Paris Trip Day 27

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Sunday. A lot of attractions are free today. Unfortunately, it’s cold and rainy…the type of cold that seeps into your bones. I took the Metro to Champs-Elysees, mostly to go to the top of the Arc de Triomphe. I took pictures all around it and while I was on the top level. I happened to get there just before a crowd came (which I saw on my way out). The lift was broken, so I had to walk up a lot of stairs in a very winding staircase – I thought I heard someone say there are 222 steps to get to the top – but hostel staff told me there are 284. While the width of the staircase was small, there were occasional landings where you can step aside and rest while allowing others to pass; as someone who studied design, I found that design detail impressive. Sometimes it has seemed to me that designers and architects forget much-needed details, like having spaces for people to catch their breath on staircases while not holding up people behind them. There were exhibits in the Arc de Triomphe on military uniforms and aspects of the monument’s design. There was also a shop for souvenirs. I people-watched for a bit: I love seeing the joy on people’s faces as they investigate Parisian sights.

After I took plenty of pictures (and had a couple taken of me), I was so cold I had to leave. I didn’t want to. I went to the McDonald’s on the Champs-Elysees to use the restroom, and took some more pictures until my fingers were too frozen to handle the camera. It might have been the coldest day of the trip. Funny enough, I was feeling so frozen, I decided to take a couple of pictures of Queen Elsa.

I headed back to the hostel and grabbed a Grand Marnier crepe on my way. It was hard to eat with frozen fingers, but I managed.

Queen Elsa on the Champs-Elysees. It was so cold, I'm sure she felt right at home.

Queen Elsa on the Champs-Elysees. It was so cold, I’m sure she felt right at home.

Salut.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Information on the Arc de Triomphe taken from Wikipedia article, “Arc de Triomphe,” retrieved July 26, 2015.

Paris Trip Day 17

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Champs-Elysees at night. The Ferris Wheel at the Place de la Concorde is visible in the background.

The Champs-Elysees at night. The Ferris Wheel at the Place de la Concorde is visible in the background.

Thursday. Thanksgiving 2014. I am very grateful to be in Paris regardless, but I am also thankful to be away from all the drama in the States. Chuck Hagel was forced to resign as Defense Secretary—I wonder what that means for my situation. (He was enlisted in the U.S. Air Force, as I was.) Seems like a lot of plot points are changing – like Connie Stinson – oh, excuse me – the REVEREND DR. Connie Stinson – resigning from the D.C. Baptist Convention before she became its president. Enquiring minds want to know!

I’ve used the day so far to plan what else I will do, making sure I make the most of free/almost free things. There is a still a lot I’d like to do, but I’m being mindful of going to London for a day or two. I’m not really looking forward to it. I love being here. I love the French people and everything about their culture…I am truly in heaven. It isn’t that I haven’t had a bad or unpleasant experience here; it’s that an unpleasant experience here is easier to tolerate.

I need to see if I can print and/or redo my CV and apply to a few places, perhaps at Sephora, and of course, to teach English. I’m not going to plan my trip to London much, except for what I will say on my placard at Buckingham Palace.

Paris restaurant.

Food is to be savored in Paris.

Rick Steves says that American ex-pats in Paris during the holidays all tend to go to a shop named Thanksgiving to get cranberries and boxes of stuffing on Thanksgiving Day. (Nothing like a little solidarity on an American holiday.) I thought of going there just to be part of the excitement and to see other American ex-pats. I decided, instead, to have a Thanksgiving meal after all. I went to Le Basilic again (4th time!) and had veal with green beans in mushroom sauce, a glass of Pinot Noir, coffee and chocolate mousse. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Le Basilic should be at least a 3-star restaurant, it is soooooooooo good. And who can complain about the service? They check in with me from time to time to see if I need anything else while allowing me to enjoy the experience. As Rick Steves says, once you get a table for dinner at a restaurant in Paris, it is essentially yours for the night. Tips are included in the bill, so there’s no rushing you out the door. It also makes for more relaxed servers: they know they’re getting paid. The U.S. should adopt this philosophy with servers.

I decided to buy the cape I saw, since it has been a lifelong dream to buy a cape in Paris since I first saw one at Garfinckel’s so many years ago. I love it!!! I feel so feminine in it!! And my Cache pants fit! It was a magnificent night, probably around 57 degrees Fahrenheit. I LOVE the energy of Paris at night. People feel so alive: it’s in their faces and their body language. Many people are with their significant other. Love is in the air. The lights are beautiful. I didn’t want to go back to the hostel, I wanted to feel that energy from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and in my bones.

The energy of Paris at night.

I love the energy of Paris at night.

Finally, my bones said, “Enough already! We need some sleep!” So I took the Metro and went back to Plug-Inn Hostel. I crawled into bed with a huge smile on my face.

 

 

 

Salut!

Paris Trip Day 11

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A rainy day in Paris is better than a sunny day anywhere else.

A rainy day in Paris is better than a sunny day anywhere else.

Friday. I feel awful. My head is stuffed. My eyes are watering like crazy. I have to stay in I feel so sick. Thank goodness the hostel has a great coffee machine. Even though I enjoy a good cup of cappuccino, the machine’s cappuccino is pretty good, especially for 1 euro. As I’ve said, a bad day in Paris beats a good day anywhere else, any time.

Later. As sick as I was, I managed to go to Gare du Nord to find out how to get to London when I go in December. I seemed to be getting the run around…no one could tell me how to take a ferry to Calais like I did the last time I visited Paris. Finally, I got the information I needed. Then, my debit card wouldn’t work, so I had to pay cash for a 1-way ticket to Calais. Hard to believe that Wells Fargo froze my account! Even after I gave them a travel itinerary before I left the States! And the Wells Fargo representative even told me she could see my travel itinerary in my account online! And she took her own sweet time making me verify each and every transaction, as slow as growing grass.

I don’t take anti-histamines much anymore, but I had no choice today, so I got an anti-histamine from a Pharmacie. I am so glad pharmacists in France are about as knowledgeable as doctors in the U.S. when it comes to medicines. I am wiped out.

Salut.

Paris Trip Day 6

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The Champs-Elysee is framed by the Ferris wheel of Paris (Roue de Paris) at one end, and the Arc de Triomphe is at the other. Beautiful by day, magnificent at night.

The Champs-Elysee is framed by the Ferris Wheel of Paris (Roue de Paris) at one end, and the Arc de Triomphe at the other. Both are beautiful by day, magnificent at night.

Sunday. I had a great day today. I came back from Gold Hotel with little trouble, put my things down, and went and had a leisurely brunch at Cafe Bruant, near Plug-Inn. While there, I met a Parisian named Emile. We talked a lot, such as about the differences between Paris and L.A. He told me liked Paris much better: like many French people I’ve met, he said Americans only seem to be interested in making money – not enjoying life and the relationships we have with others. He also told me about his father’s business making luxury sheets and other things for the bedroom. He told me he is a writer. He spoke very good English, yet apologized for it. I wondered if he was angling for us to spend some time together, when all of a sudden his demeanor changed and he said he had to go. (What did the woman sitting next to me do?) He gave me directions to get to a gym, and I wondered if I can follow them. Before he left, he reminded me to go to the photography exhibit today at Grand Musee.

Parisians sit outside to eat and talk regardless of the weather. Relationships are what matter, not the weather.

Parisians sit outside to eat and talk regardless of the weather. Relationships are what matter, not the weather.

The exhibit was huge! I saw what I could in 2 ½ hours. I was exhausted from concentrating. I decided to go walking along the Champs-Elysees and look at the Christmas exhibits, where people sell their wares in outdoor kiosks. In French I ordered a crepe with Grand Marnier. I hate to toot my own horn, but it felt great to see the woman’s eyes light up when I was able to order in French. On the other side of the street, I talked with a Moscovite about the lacquer boxes that he was displaying. I told him about the lacquer boxes I saw while I was in Moscow. He talked to me at length about where and how they are made. He seemed to enjoy talking about his homeland. He smiled when I said “spasibo” as I parted, and as I walked away I knew if I could have a superpower it would be to speak any language at any given moment. It makes people feel so validated to speak to them in their own language.

The Grand Musee, also called the Musee du Grand Palais, where the Photography Exhibit was held.

The Grand Musee, also called the Musee du Grand Palais, where the Photography Exhibit was held.

I walked some more along Champs-Elysees. I finally took the Metro back to the hostel, and grabbed some take-away chicken and rice from a Japanese restaurant nearby that I just know I’m going to be a regular at while I’m here. I’m exhausted. I want to remember to read about dinner cruises to see if I really want to go to the one I picked out before my trip; regardless of which one, I’ll need to book it online. I also want to read over how to get to London in Rick Steves’ book.

I have to remember to be unafraid to be true to who I am here. At home, I feel pressured not to be as feminine as I feel inside; Parisians aren’t like that. They accept my best self here. I love being here. I also need to remember my prayer time in the A.M.

 

Salut.

Paris Trip Day 4

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Friday. I moved into another room with a skylight and only one other person, Violet. She and I had a long talk, during which I told her many of the basics of my situation. She told me she believed another country calls the shots in the U.S. and that the U.S. is run by an oligarchy, including corporations. (Perhaps I should say she is not from the U.S.) Intriguingly, I recently spoke with U.S. citizens who told me the same thing. She further said that if you put a group of people in a room, all from different countries, including the U.S., there would be a “heaviness” about us that we don’t see because we’re too close to it. She is so perceptive! She also asked me if I thought of going public about my situation, and suggested I have oral surgery as well. I told her it’s a matter of finding a dentist who will pull a tooth without asking the reason for my request, and whom I can trust. It isn’t so much that I can’t trust dentists — after all, my father was a dentist — but my situation requires me to be extra cautious.

It usually rains rather than snows in Paris, which is okay by me. I love the rain.

It usually rains rather than snows in Paris, which is okay by me. I love the rain.

I felt very lethargic, possibly because of the rain (though I love rain). I didn’t get out of the hostel until about 4:45 P.M. I ate at Le Basilic again: tomatoes and mozzarella skewer, cod with spinach in a light sauce, bread, a glass of wine (Pinot Noir, a new favorite) and cappuccino. Culinary heaven. The French really know how to eat and live. I saw Violet out with friends. Later, Violet went to Moulin Rouge for a performance. I went to bed, though first I organized for my night at the Gold Hotel (tomorrow).

 

Salut.

Je Suis Charlie

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I realize the horrific time has passed but I would be remiss if I did not mention my sorrow surrounding the shootings that took place in Paris this past January after Charlie Hebdo, a satirical magazine there, published some cartoons that some people found offensive.

My heart goes out to the families of those killed and to the French people in general. France is a peace-loving country that values, above all, human connections. I can only imagine the shock and horror that ripped through Paris and throughout France on the days the shootings took place. As the whole of France grieves, I grieve with them. I am a Francophile: I am part French, have studied French, and I have visited Paris three times, the last time for 30 days at the end of 2014. Many people have asked me (in an “I’m sure I know the answer” manner) if I was glad I returned to the United States prior to the shootings: in a word, no. On the contrary, I told them, I wish I had been able to stay in Paris – not just to work, which is my goal – but to have walked to the Republique in solidarity with the French people whom I care so much about, and to simply offer my support to those grieving. I admire the world leaders that offered their support in word and deed to the French people immediately following the attacks. They are true ambassadors for their respective countries.

I remember all too well where I was when the terrorist attacks happened on September 11, 2001, and how alone I felt. I was home from work having worked the late shift as a financial proofreader, and I hardly breathed as I watched the events unfold on television right before my eyes. My mind did not drift toward terrorist attacks: I thought the world had gone mad. Terror can tear the body to pieces, but what it does to a person’s heart and soul is far worse: it can kill the spirit, and the joy of living with it. That is why it is so important not to become isolated when terror strikes, because terror cannot do its dirty work if people stick together and support each other.

I know the French people are already rebounding from this. I only wish I could be there to offer my support in person.

Je Suis Charlie

Salut.

 

 

 

Je Suis Charlie image “Never Again” by Robert Couse-Baker, Copyright 2015. Used by Permission of Flickr. No changes made. Link to image page. CCBY 2.0