On Sunday we flew Air France from Paris’ Orly airport to Nice. The Orly terminal was confusing. It was a huge round space with ticket agents lining the sides, electronic self check-in in the center and security screening just beyond. On the other side of security were the gates making up the other half of the circle. A ticket agent checked us in at a self serve kiosk then pointed us to where to check in our luggage. They have a 32 kilo limit on bags (our heaviest was 17). The baggage agent told us to go through security at 10:30 for our 11:00 flight. We thought we’d misunderstood but we had plenty of time before our flight so we walked around the attached shopping for a while. When we got back security had cleared out so we went through. One of the screeners remarked that we were early so apparently they prefer to have a huge crush of people all at once.

We picked up our rental car at the airport and hit the road. Fontvielle was about a 30 minute drive. We got lost finding the resort but not for long and fortunately it was Sunday so there wasn’t much traffic. This place is practically right on the pier. In fact, you drive right on the dock to get to the parking garage. A bunch of little Italian kids followed us on their skateboards. One little guy jumped in front of our car and put his hand up for us to stop at a speed bumb so they could skateboard over it. I thought they were pretty cute. Dan’s had it with Italians.

We got settled in and mercifully spread out in our unit then went to an English pub that the receptionist suggested. It was cold and rainy but warm and snug in the small pub where we watched Manchester City play Portsmouth with Italians, French, English and Scots.

On Monday we tackled the supermarket. Note: Don’t go to a supermarket on Monday morning in France. Most are closed on Sunday so along with a whole lot of customers, they were restocking. I spent a good part of the day doing laundry and found out how ventless dryers work. I want one. It was kinda nice relaxing and just doing domestic stuff like laundry and cooking.

The picture at the top is the view just off our balcony.

Stroll through Paree

Central Paris is a wonderful place to just walk. Just make sure you have a guidebook. We started off from our hotel in a new direction and first of all encountered a Japanese film crew setting up a scene on a busy avenue almost across from Napoleon’s Tomb. We stuck around to watch for a while as the film crew rushed around setting up the shot. There were cameras on a crane and also on the ground. The director was placidly sitting behind us looking uninterested.

As we walked toward the tomb the golden statues on top of Pont Alexandre III came into view to our right. I’d been wanting to see this bridge since we arrived so it was a pleasant surprise. We took photos then continued to walk along the Left Bank until we reached the Musee d’Orsay.

We turned at the museum and walked through the St. Germain area. This is a shopping area full of designer clothing, jewelry, and furniture stores. We walked past the Brasserie Lipp where Hemingway is said to have written much of A Farewell to Arms. It’s practically catty-cornered from the cathedral St. Germain-des-Pres which is the oldest church in Paris dating from the 11th century. A Christian church has stood at this sight since the fall of Rome. The original was destroyed by Vikings during the 885-886 siege. We stepped into the cool dark and listened to the chanters as we rested for a while.

After this respite we set out for Ile de la Cite in search of the bouquinistes along the Seine. They started as used book sellers in the mid 1500’s. The waiting list to become one of the 250 bouquinistes is 8 years. They each have 4 boxes attached to the stone wall along the river. They sell more than books but three of their four boxes must be books. They pay rent only on the stone their boxes rest on (less than 100 euro/yr.).

We browsed the bouquinistes without buying then caught the metro back to our hotel. We figure we walked about four miles.

My husband pointed out that I say “merci” a lot like Gomer Pyle said “golly.” MAYRsee. I just say messy now.

A couple of negatives I’ve noticed about Paris:
A lot of owners don’t clean up after their dogs.
Fromageries smell like restaurant dumpsters. The first one I encountered on Rue Cler, I smelled long before we got to it. I was looking all around for a dumpster or sewer grate. The lines from Sweeny Todd’s “Pirellis Miracle Elixer” (“Pardon me sir, what’s that awful stench. Are we standing near an open trench?”) kept running through my mind.

Louvre and St. Chappelle

We got to the Louvre about 30 minutes before it opened and entered straight from the Subway into the mall without having to walk outside. We had coffee and pastry then joined the line underneath the pyramid. It wasn't a long wait. I followed the Rick Steves audio tour that I'd downloaded and the very first think I saw was the Venus d'Milo. Talk about a great start. We were ahead of the pack so could take our time and get as close as we wanted. Unfortunately it didn't last but for the most part, with patience I was able to get as close to the art as I wanted. I saw five, count 'em five, Da Vinci's not counting the Mona Lisa. Winged Victory was awesome placed at the top of a grand staircase. The audio tour took about 2 hours and it only included the Denon wing. We checked out the Egyptian collection in the Sully wing next. We were too tired to tackle the Richelieu wing. Next time.

From there we went to a cafe and had lunch that the R.S. book suggested. It was a great place to sit and watch the street scene.

We then took the metro to St. Chappelle. It was amazing. The play of light through the stained glass was beautiful. Hard to believe the place was built in only 5 years back in the mid 1200's (Notre Dame took 200 years). King Louis IX built it to house the Crown of Thorns which he brought back from Constantinople during the French Crusades. The relic is no longer there. It now resides in the treasury at Notre Dame and only on display the first Friday of the month and during Easter. There are no large images of Christ here. It's all about the crown.

The pics at the top are Da Vinci's St. Anne, The Virgin and Child. Notice how St. Anne resembles Mona Lisa. The altar of St. Chappelle the platform at the top is where the Crown of Thorns resided. And, of course, Venus de Milo but maybe from a different angle than normally photographed.

The End of a Day in Paris

Yesterday we did Notre Dame and tried to tour St. Chappelle but it was closed for a concert. We walked over to the Louvre but we were too tired to go in so we just took in the ginormous mall where the pyramid is. We went back to our hotel and rested up for a while. We soon heard what sounded like a scene from Les Miserable coming from the Ave. de la Motte Picquet (2 blocks away). Looking out our window I could see flags. If we hadn't been so knackered, we would have walked down to check it out. It was a student protest march which seems to be a fairly regular occurence around here. Once we felt like we could move comfortably again, we went around the corner to Rue Cler, got a crepe and walked over to the pier just below the Eifel Tower to see about booking a dinner cruise on the Seine. We were told that the river was too high and the dinner cruise wouldn't be going by Paris but the other way. The only monument the other way was the Statue of Liberty. I wasn't about to spend 95 euro to see the freakin Statue of Liberty. We'll try again before we leave.

We decided to go up the Eifel Tower since we were right there. Each pier has a ticket office. We chose the line that seemed shortest. We chose poorly. It was the "stairs only" line. Somebody didn't believe me when I said repeatedly that I thought escalier meant stairs (the stick figure climbing stairs next to it helped). We got our tickets and proceeded to climb like a million stairs to the first level. I had to stop several times. I guess my pre-trip fitness routine, which consisted of slathering myself with Jergens skin firming lotion every day, fell a little short. When we finally reached the first level we bought lift tickets. The elevator up to the summit was scary but once there it was ... just absolutely ... cold ... and windy ... and crowded. I don't know how, but we always manage to be stuck in a crowd next to the ADHD kid. They have the cattle chute method of line control and this kid was the steer that somehow knows it's about to get castrated. Seriously, it was breathtaking up there.

We ate dinner at a cafe around the corner from the hotel. I spilled a glass of red wine on a velvet upholstered chair as I was trying to sqeeze between tables and not fall over the motorcycle helmet on the floor.

Today, despite being incredibly sore (My hips are bothering me more than anything. What's up with that? Nevermind, I don't want to know) we went to the Musee d'Orsay. Only the main floor was open so it didn't take long. The second floor with the Van Goghs, Monets, and other impressionists was closed.

We walked through the Toullerie to the Musee d'Orangerie and saw a lot of the artists we missed at the Orsay. From there we walked down the Champs Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe. the closer we got to the Arc, the more the area resembled Time Square. We went through a shopping arcade which is like a mall but is actually a covered passage with shops.

The first picture at the top is "Mademoiselle Chanel" by Marie Laurencin. The second is view from the first level of the Eifel Tower with the Sacre Coeur in the distance.

No time to write at the moment. Just wanted to attach the pic of the day. Well, actually yesterday. It's the side of Notre Dame. Pretty, huh.

City of Light

It's 1:00 a.m. here in Paris. I went to sleep around 10:00, had a bad dream (thanks a lot Ghost Hunters) and am now sitting in the dark listening to my husband's nighttime noises ... not for the squeamish. I am trying to be vaywy, vaywy quiet so as not to awaken him. I foresee tomorrow as being a day in which he is full of energy as I plod along next to him. I hope I am wrong and the beauty of the things I will see energize me.

We have a view of the upper third of the Eifel Tower from our room. When I got up a little while ago I looked out the window and the lights on it were all twinkly. I watched until they were turned off for the night. The upper third of the tower has a decidedly phallic look. It's kind of like a giant, illuminated dildo looming over the rooftops out our window.

Customs at DeGalle was a breeze. I stepped up to the agent said "Bonjour, monsieur" to the very young man whereupon he smiled, winked and said, "Merci." The bus ride to Opera metro station took about an hour. We walked, dragging our bags around the Paris Opera to the station. The wheels on mine got stuck in a grate when I was maneuvering around another tourist taking a photo. I've got a new bag that's bigger than the one I used to have which proved a problem on the stairs in the metro -- and there were a lot of stairs. I couldn't pick the bag up high enough to clear the steps. Dan had my old bag so we tried switching but that didn't work either as his bag was much heavier. He ended up giving me his backpack and carried both bags down and when we arrived at our stop for the hotel he practically ran up the stairs with both bags. It was more a case of momemtum than excitement. (Think of Charles Durning taking Claudia's bags upstairs in "Home for the Holidays.") He had to sit on top of one for a while when we got on the street.

We found the hotel easily about three blocks from the stop thanks to our Rick Steves tourist guide. We've now seen 3 other couples carrying the same book. Coincidentally, at both of the cafes we've been to we've been seated next to Americans which here means practically at the same table ... hey, wait a minute, I don't think that's a coincidence. The French are seating us at the equivalent of the childrens' table. Fine, whatever.

Our room is great, tiny, but great. It is one of the recently updated rooms and ultra modern. When we were allowed to check in at 2:00, we were told the water was off until 5:00. That messed up my plans to get a bath, change, and do some more sightseeing. I was so exhausted after walking around for two hours ... we walked up and down Rue Cler and over to the Eifel Tower and got lost coming back ... that I layed down and went to sleep until the water was turned back on at 6:00. While at dinner, my husband was lamenting the fact that we didn't stick to the plan and stay awake until bedtime. My response was a petulant, "I couldn't help it. There was no water." He looked at me like he does when he knows he's got to somehow figure out the connection between my response and his comment.

Want to hear my embarrassing story about the flight over? Of course you do. After dinner, I put on my earphones, donned my inflatable horse collar pillow, closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep. I soon realized I had gas. I'm talking bubbling going on from ass to sternum. It had to go somewhere and clench as I might, I became the human equivalent of a motorboat. I was mortified until I realized there was no odor -- know how that happens sometimes -- and miraculously, no sound. So I just relaxed and thought how lucky I was and relieved that I wouldn't have to endure painful bloating. I was just happy as a clam, tooting up a storm until I suddenly realized I had my earphones in. Dear God. I cracked open one eye just long enough to catch a glimpse of the guy across the aisle staring open-mouthed at me.