Wednesday, June 11 - Part 2 - Pere Lachaise Cemetery

I love this place.  I like that so many famous people are buried here.  But I also like that the memorials are so fascinating.  Anyone who's anyone is buried here and in the past I've seen Proust, Moliere, Edith Piaf, Gertrude Stein, Yves Montand & Simone Signoret (always wondered if she's eternally pissed being buried with him because I understand he cheated so much) and of course Jim Morrison (who really has one of the more simple graves, actually). 

I didn't have as much time to visit this time around, so I just wandered and took photos of interesting places of rest and only sought out a few of the famous.  I was all prepared to plant my kiss on Oscar Wilde's tombstone, as is the tradition, but alas, in the past 8 years since I've visited, things have changed and I ran into this:

The lower two-thirds of Oscar's tombstone is encased in acrylic.  The tombstone itself has been cleansed of 95% of the old lipstick marks, although some apparently were applied with permanent lip stain.  The family, I guess, got fed up with the markings and cleaned them off and got tired of paying for it.  Why they just didn't go with the flow, I'm not sure.  Some Googling is in store on that one when I get home.  At any rate, even though I was prepared with not one, but TWO very expensive lipsticks purchased in the very high-end Galleries Lafayette & Printemps, I was forced to do this:

I left nary a mark.  Insert heavy sigh here for the missed opportunity 8 years ago ---->  X

But once again, I did stumble across my favorite crypt:

I always thought he was holding a bust of himself as a younger man.  Turns out, he's holding a bust of his wife!

The inscription at the base of the crypt reads "Ils furent émerveillés du beau voyage Qui les mena jusqu’au bout de la vie" which means "They were amazed at the beautiful journey / Which led to the end of life" .  I googled the inscription to find out more and got this url: 

http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=10341817

So now I at least know his name is Fernand Arbelot.  Still a very cool grave and I LOVE the inscription.  I found a few other graves I know nothing about, but are very fascinating to me:

Jim Morrison's grave is very non-descript.  But very close to it is this tree where people stick their gum.  Perhaps the Oscar Wilde people can take a hint? 

Love love love this painter sitting atop his crypt and looking out.

Not sure why I like this, but it's creepiness is fascinating


No comment on these last two.  They speak for themselves about their uniqueness

Paris at me feet

According to my Fitbit, there were approximately 350 steps, up a narrow circular stairs until you get to the upper level.  It's not impossible, but not easy.  And once you get up there, your reward is pretty cool:

From up here, you really get to see how beautiful these old buildings are.  Paris had -- and I think still does -- an ordinance that you can't build tall buildings within the center city.  Nothing to overshadow that Tower.  So the views are always great.  The tall buildings spring up on the outskirts.  But here are more views of my "reward".  By the way, I first climbed to the top of Notre Dame in 1972, when I was about 25.  I don't think they had all that webbing protecting you from the edge.  Times sure changed (as the amount of lawyers increased?)

Selfie with Gargoyle
 

Here we are, proving age is just a number and you can get to the top still alive to enjoy the view
 

Gargoyle



Gargoyle with Eiffel

 

 

And when you're done with all this climbing -- when this vacation is over, I'm not climbing any stairs for at least a month.  So, seriously -- you get to reward yourself with a lunch on Champs Elysees where you can people-watch.

 

 



Somewhere, through the back of the umbrellas, the Arc d'Triomphe is standing.  But it isn't Paris, imho, unless you can have a glass of wine and a nosh on the Champs Elysees.

Wednesday, June 11 - Part 1

The two crazy people from Arizona decided to defy their ages and climb to the top of Notre Dame yesterday morning.  The tippy top was closed, but you can get up pretty darned high. 

 

There was a line and, yeah, we had to wait a while to climb.  But at least it wasn't raining.  AND you get to observe fun things on line when it's not raining.  Like:

* The pissy couple in front of us, right out of Central Casting, decked out in their REI finest.  No low-rent Target or K-Mart or Goodwill travel clothes for them.  They're the couple in the movie that the leading man & woman, who are ever so cool, meet on their trip.  They are the comic relief -- scheduled to within an inch of their lives with the wife fretting over every detail.  Man, they just would not talk to us, even though we were all from the States.  They chatted up a storm with the younger couple in front of them, but gave us the stink eye and answered any questions we had with a clipped "I so don't want to talk to you" voice.  And the wife was indeed fretting over the fact that they just could not get to Versailles because the train people were staging a 1-day strike (wasn't impacting the Metro or the train we're taking today).  She had Rick Steve's guidebook that she kept referring to -- that sucker was about 1 1/4 inches and had to be heavy.  He had an overstuffed backpack with supplies.  Every tag that showed on their clothing read REI.   I think ultimately they were going to rent a car and drive to Versailles.  Any suggestions on alternate route got a very clipped "we've been using the Metro for a week now.  We know how to get around."  Yeah, well get around this, baby (makes gesture NSFW)

* The Japanese couple who walked around arm-in-arm.  The woman had a towel completely over her head, front to back, and every few steps she'd lift it up to see where she was going.  Apparently, she was trying to avoid getting too much sun because when she entered a store, she removed the towel.

* The couple who apparently rented a "bicycle limo" and were being driven to their destination, courtesy of the poor guy who was pedaling like crazy.  Like the kind you see around Phoenix, except this "limo" had a nice roof and sides to protect the passengers from the elements.  He was in his late 70's at least; well-preserved, but old & Caucasian.  She was in her late-30s/early 40s max, dressed to kill & Oriental.  As the song goes, things that make you go "Hmmmmmmmmmmm"

*  It was very difficult to tell it was noon, because all the churches in the area rang their bells and I lost track at about 52.  I guess that was my first clue it was an "important" hour, huh.

* The young couple in front of the pissy couple, who were honored with their conversation, mentioned that they were Diamondback fans, even though they were from Louisiana (I think).  This was because Wade Miley went to their school when they did and he was a nice guy and now he's in the majors pitching.  The young woman added "But man, he. is. dumb.  I don't know how he ever graduated."

Finally it was our turn to go up and all the parking of my car in the farthest corner of the lot at school and walking to class with weights on each ankle and doing the treadmill at a 17% incline paid off because although I panted a bit, I made it up almost as well as I did the last time I climbed Notre Dame's internal circular stairs -- 42 years ago!!!

Time to get the train to Normandy.  Photos to follow later this evening.....

Bad News, Good News

Thursday morning (my computer is still on Phoenix time, so it reads "Wednesday")

So I think I got pickpocketed over the last few days.  That's bad.  But the only think missing was my Cash Passport -- the updated version of Travelers' Checks.  They're basically cash-loaded debit cards, but the security is killer and the replacement time is minimal.  And that's good.

I figure I was in a hurry, so I put my cash card short side up in the slot for cards in my purse, so it stuck up a little further than the others -- you know, so I could get to the card more easily if I wanted to buy more stuff.  Anyway, I figure my purse was open just enough for someone to reach in and slip the card out.  We've been warned they're slick here in Paris, but when your purse is around your neck, you kinda feel invincible.

So this morning, I'm looking to gather my stuff up and I have my credit card & my driver's license (don't want to carry around my passport and my license seems to be working just fine for identification), got my cash, got my......oops.  Where's my cash card?  And after about 10 minutes I realized it was gone.  Maybe I lost it -- I'm still not convinced I didn't, but it's gone.

So that's when the security clicks in.  When you buy these things.  They give you 2 -- primary & secondary.  Each has a unique number and a unique passcode.  I called up the number on the back (at last!!!  the phone I purchased for use in Europe, which I haven't really been using at all, worked!), got an operator who was able to look up my account using the card number from the secondary card, I was able to answer the security questions, she was able to verify that my other card hadn't been used and when I started to say "maybe I just lost it, blah blah", she was able to cut me off with a perfectly fine British accent "well, whatever, that card's now been deactivated."

My secondary card is good to go, my lesson has been learned and my money is intact.  Cash Passports -- don't leave home without them.

Off to Normandy today.  2 hour train ride, an afternoon tour and a late train back.  And I have money!!!

Let's just say my Fitbit recorded 26,992 steps today and it's 1:15am and we have to be up early tomorrow because we're going to Normandy and you have all the reasons I can give as to why this blog entry must end here.

I'll catch up on details asap.  Pictures, too!

First full day in Paris:  19,378 steps.  So much for taking it easy here.  The day was made up of regrouping as rain and crowds change our plans constantly.  Still turn out to be a swell day and we still manage to have great experiences to take away with us.

We originally set out to visit the Catacombs.  We figured "it's raining, this is indoors; what could possibly go wrong."  Well, after about a 45 minute Metro ride, we emerged to find a HUGELY long line.  We asked a group with American accents if it was the line for the Catacombs and they informed us they had already been waiting 2 hours.  They were at least another hour from the front of the line and it was raining pretty darned hard.

They hadn't even gotten to here, which was around the corner from them:

The line started way way way behind the last person on the left and continued way way way ahead of the last visible person on the right.  We were way way enjoying our food when this photo was taken. 

Sherri (if you're reading this):  the patisserie we went to had their motto written on the wall above the display counters of wonderful stuff:  "Une maison san pain est une maison sans joie".  "A house without bread is a house without joy".  I thought of you when I read it.  How true!

Anyway, perhaps I’ve become cranky (okay, crankier) in my dottage.  Perhaps I fear wasting time because a 60-something  statistically has less time left than a 30-something.  Perhaps it just was the rain.  Whatever.  I only knew there was absolutely no way I was going to spend 3 hours standing on line just to see the Catacombs.  Now granted they looked pretty cool.  And I was looking forward to seeing them.  But I wasn’t looking 3-hours forward to seeing them.  In fact, there’s very little I would wait 3 hours for.  Seriously.

So it was a no-brainer decision for Gene & I to look at each other, go “we don't think so” and head to the nearest patisserie for some splendid quiche and an apple tart.  Oooh-la-la.  It was just the perfect solution so we could focus, regroup and see how we wanted to spend the rest of the day.

And so we headed off to the D’Orsay Museum, a fabulous place that used to be a railroad station.  So, like most Paris museums, even the building was wonderful to look at.  Of course, there was a line there as well – this must be what happens on Tuesdays, when the Louvre is closed, but the line moved along quite nicely and within a reasonable time we were inside.  The first thing you’re faced with inside is a smaller version of the Statue of Liberty.  And also this bust:

And I could help but look around for the companion busts of Moe & Curly (I mean really, doesn’t it look like Larry?).  But the Museum was having a great exhibit called “Suicide de la Societie”  where Van Gogh’s paintings were paired with the writings of one Antoine Artaud, who wrote a book expounding his theory that Van Gogh was driven to suicide by society.  Artaud also had deep psychological problems and was institutionalized for 9 years.  It was a fascinating theory and the paintings by Van Gogh were outstanding.  And this is how swell the main hall of this Museum looks:

 

 

After the Museum, we were rewarded with bighter skies & patches of blue peaking through.  The rain was gone for the day (and I think most of the rest of the week).  We got it into our heads that we should climb to the top of Notre Dame, which you are allowed to do for a fee. And so we walked along the Seine and down to Notre Dame, arriving 12 minutes after they closed the line for the day. But it has gone from being an impulse to being a mission, so stay tuned and let's see what happens tomorrow. 

As we walked to Notre Dame, we crossed over the Seine via the (in)famous Bridge of Love.  The one where everyone and his brother, sister, mother, father, second cousin twice removed, in the throes of passion put a lock on the bridge and threw the key into the Seine to symbolize that their love would never die -- the Seine, maybe from all the pollution caused by the disintegrating metal on the keys, but never the love these 2 humans had for each other. 

I don't know when this tradition got started.  I don't remember it 8 years ago when we were in Paris, but it has taken off with a passion (har har, I made a pun).  Here's what the bridge looks like today:

These locks extend on both sides clear to the other side of the bridge.  There are so many, you can not see through what used to be a chain link fence.  There are so many, one panel collapse recently and the city had to put up plywood to replace it, so the bridge would be safe to cross.

Here's a close-up of the locks.  As you can see, couples put locks upon locks upon locks, etc, wherever they can find a spot because there just isn't anymore room on the bridge.

This was never Paris' idea.  It got foisted on them by tourists.  But the Mayor doesn't want to stop people from doing it because she fears Paris' reputation as the "City of Love" will suffer.  And frankly, trying to remove all these locks is about the same level of impossibility as trying to send 11 million undocumented people back to their country of origin because some fool thinks they shouldn't be here -- it just can't be done.  The locks are there to stay.  The issue is to find a solution.  That's gonna be tough.  And will get tougher; we passed 3 vendors on the bridge who sell locks in case you haven't brought your own. 

I must admit I was curmudgeon about it all, but the sight of these locks is kind of sweet.  Gene & I even bought a lock:

But we plan to take it home to Phoenix with us and find a place in the house for it (unless we find a nice spot on a fence in Chase Field.  Hmmmmmmm.......)

It was getting late by this time and I was determine to do some shopping at the two biggest stores on Paris' answer to Rodeo drive, Haussmann Blvd. -- Galleries Lafayette & Printemps.  They are both almost as big as Harrods and as old;  Galleries Lafayette was founded in 1895  and Printemps began in 1865.

Galleries Lafayette is visually stunning:

That dome is what you see looking up from the main floor.  All the upper floors overlook the main floor.  It's jus a beautiful layout

Both stores have patios on the roof where you can sit and look out over Paris.  Time was getting short and we could only visit the one at Printemps, but the view did not disappoint:

Those gold domes are not churches or government buildings or anything important.  They're one of the Printemps stores.  There are at least two next to each other and maybe 3.  I started losing count.

My feet and body are telling me that I walked nearly 20,000 steps today.  Time to crash.

Another day, another country

And it wasn't that easy getting here, either.  But here we are and loving it. 

The car we arranged to pick us up in London at 9am still wasn't there at 9:15.  Even though I had built in extra time to get to the train station, we still decided to walk a couple blocks over from our apartment and hail a regular cab.  Meanwhile, our hostess was on the phone yelling at the company:  WHEN WE SAY 9:00AM, WE MEAN 9:00AM.  IT'S 9:15.  THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE.....NO, IN 5 MORE MINUTES IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH.  THESE PEOPLE HAVE A TRAIN TO CATCH!!  I NOT GOING TO USE YOUR SERVICE ANYMORE.

But hailing a cab was so easy, we would have done that first if we'd have known.  And of course, we made it to the train station in plenty of time, got plenty of help to show up where to go and were able to sit for about a half hour until our train boarded. 

Boarding is interesting.  There are no weight restrictions, but anything you bring on board, you have to lift and put up on a rack.  We managed, but perhaps now the art of "less is more" when it comes to packing will sink in for Gene.  I swear, we have about 100 pounds of luggage (mostly tech stuff, I bet) spread out over 4 suitcases.  But where there's a tech will, there's a way and we got those suckers lifted and in place.  So there.

Our Chunnel ride clocked out at 182 mph and we were in Paris in just under 2 1/2 hours.  Why anyone would take a plane from London to Paris is beyond me.  The train starts in the center of London -- no long drive or Tube ride to the airport -- and it drops you off at a pretty decent location in Paris.  You have great leg room and a nice comfy chair.  The bathroom wall is painted to resemble subway tile and is also roomy. 

But we arrived in Paris, lugged all the suitcases to the taxi queue and got dropped off at our apartment.  Then the fun began.  Here's the entrance to our flat:

This building was built in the 1860's, so it's a little beat up, but notice how the stairs curve around.  And around.  and around.  and around.  Until we get to the 3rd floor.  And so Gene made 3 trips, each time bringing up one of our suitcases.  On the 4th trip, I joined him and lifted up the back of the suitcase as he carried up the front end.  And we made it up the stairs with all our luggage and our hearts intact. 

Our apartment is about 500 sq ft all told, on 3 levels.  Here's Gene coming up from the bottom level, where there is a comfy bed, a sofa and the bathroom:

The ladder on the left leads up to a loft where there is a big king-sized mattress on the floor.  And I'm taking this photo from the middle level, where there is a well-stocked kitchen with everything you need if you want to cook your own meal. 

Here's the view looking left out of the big window in the kitchen:

And looking right

And we do intend to cook at least one meal here.  First up after we got the bags inside was to visit the local grocery store at the end of the street and my rudimentary French got us everything we needed for a good breakfast.  And we even bought couscous with chicken to eat in tonight.  The grocer was mighty impressed with the fact that I gave him a 20 centime piece when the bill came to 23 euros, 20.  Told Gene I was very smart.  Yeah, duh.  But he doesn't know that.  Exploring a neighborhood grocery store is great fun and a great way to get the flavor of the city. 

But we chose this area to stay in for a reason and so we went off to Sacre Coeur.  Yup, it's still very touristy and perhaps a little seedier, but still full of the flavor of Montmartre.  It's all best told by photos (besides, I'm starting to fall asleep at my laptop.  It's after 10pm and it's only just dusk outside.  Very weird for us Phoenicians, where it gets dark by 8:30.

 

 So, yeah, I climbed these stairs.  We were looking for the funicular that takes you to the top, but by the time we found it, we were at the top of these stairs and only about 30 steps from where the damn thing stops anyway.  But, I'm bad, I'm bad!  I got up these steps without dying and with only 1 rest stop.  So there.

And I walked a bunch of these steps, too.  Twice.  So I could walk around and go into the Cathedral itself.  It's quite beautiful and they ask you to be silent, dress appropriately and don't take any photos because it's a house of worship.  Fair enough, but I thought it strange that they themselves had machines that would flatten a euro and put an imprint of the Basilica on it.  A little dissonance there. 

And of course outside is just a circus.  No singers today, as I told there often are.  But this guy kept a soccer ball spinning as he did tricks including climbing up and swinging from this pole.

We also saw a woman hold up a sign that read "Sonoran Desert Chorale", so we went up and spoke to her.  Last time we check "Sonoran" could mean Arizona.  And sure enough, they were from Mesa.  They had pull somewhere because tomorrow, they will be singing at Chartres at 5pm.  Not too shabby a tour, there.  So I told them about the McConnell Singers singing in front of the altar at the Old North Church.  So there.  nyah nyah.

Tomorrow, we take in more atmosphere.  We've both been here before, so rather than try to do all the touristy things again, we're just gonna walk around and breathe in Paris life.  We are aiming for Pere Lachaise cemetery again, because we enjoyed it so much the last time we were here.  And perhaps a visit to Galleries Lafayette (oh boy, shopping!!  don't tell Gene).

And I forgot to where my FitBit -- damnation!  But with all those steps and walking uphill and what have you, I am awarding myself.....4650 steps.

Total for the trip = 126,650