paris
sat 23-jul-05

Louvre - or - DiVinci Code - 23.jul.05

Yes, I did go to Paris - But the computer stayed behind in the Vampire Garret. I took: train pass, money, iPod, camera, batteries and charger for camera, spare pair of underdrawers, cheese sandwich, a bottle water and a whole lot of "what the heck are you doing woman?"

On Friday - while at the Tupperware infested Amsterdam RR Station - I considered finding out about tickets to Paris. But, the line was TOO LONG. Figured I would find out about tickets at the friendly little Haarlem station. Wrong, they don't do international. I would have to go to back to Amsterdam, if I want to get tickets or even ticket information.

So, I trudge home to the Vampire Garret, in the rain. Telling myself it is really a silly idea. Saturday morning, I sleep late, have breakfast, notice that it is raining, toss the aforementioned items in my tote bag and slog to the train station. Hop on a train to Amsterdam.

Wait in line to get a number. So I can wait to get to the ticket window to buy a ticket to Paris. Figure I'd have to wait at least 40 minutes. The line is TOO LONG. And, I knew that the trains to Paris all left from Brussels and I had a train pass that would get me to Brussels - so, got on the train to Brussels. Figured, at worse, I'd just have to come back to Amsterdam and what the heck it was raining might as well spend 8 hours on a train listening to the iPod.

Plan A for Brussels - get a ticket on the next train to Paris. Plan B - get a ticket on the first train on Sunday morning. Plan C - give up and come back to the Vampire Garret.

Arrive in Brussels. Take a look around out side the station. Decide that Plan B is a non-starter. The Brussels Sud station appears to be in seriously bad neighborhood. But, the good news is - I did not have to wait in line to get a number. I got a number and within 5 minutes had scored a "overbooked" ticket on the next train to Paris and a real ticket on the latest train from Paris that would safely get me back into Brussels to get the last train to Amsterdam.

Only after paying for the ticket do I realize that I have a standing room ticket on a train that goes 300 miles per hour. Oops. "What the heck are you doing, woman?"

But, it is too late - time to get on that train. Hey, guess what? I get to sit in the baggage area on a little fold down seat. Not as bad as flying coach. No problem. Train leaves the station. Another attack of "What the heck are you doing, woman?" This time I wonder - what if the Gare du Nord is in a bad neighborhood? Then what? "What the heck are you doing, woman?"

Anyhow, punch up some traveling tunes on the iPod, listen to The Dead doing Casey Jones driving the train high on cocaine.. next thing I know ... its Paris.

So far so good. I am in Paris. Now what? I see the visitor information booth. But, the line is TOO LONG. So, I go outside. Neighborhood looks OK. Of course, my standards are not too high. "What the heck are you doing, woman?"

Cross the street and notice a family with children and luggage going into one of the hotels. OK, that's it - that will be my hotel. Within 10 minutes of my arrival in Paris, I am in my room in the "New Hotel". The hotel is about as new as I am. It smells of French tobacco and my room is a wonderful shade of peachy-orange.

Armed only with a overview map of Paris, I head out. Looking for the Eiffel Tower. Figure that is as good as anything to look for. Start walking down Rue La Fayette. According to my map it is heading in the right direction.

Wandered thru a department store. Never saw a department store where you had to queue up to get into some to the departments. But, they had velvet ropes and bouncer-type men controlling access to the likes of Tommy Cho and Hermes. Quicky backout side, I notice that the French driver's favorite part of the automobile is the horn. I am surprised to see cops on roller blades. But, they zip right around all the traffic.

I am getting hungry - Eiffel Tower is no where in sight. I spy a lovely sidewalk cafe. Glance at the menu. A grilled ham and cheese sandwich will set me back 18 euros. Nope, I can eat that the Micky D's by the train station.

All of a sudden, I walk smack into the Louvre. Even at 1930 hours there was a sallie port open that let me into the Pyramid area.

I was overcome. I walk through that sallie port an there is was Paris. The pyramid, the Eiffel Tower, the "little" arc, the Arc de Triomphe, Tuileries Garden ... all right there. I felt like yelling "I am in Paris .. I am in f-ing Paris." I can not explain it. Not long after - I saw two young men jumping up and down shouting - "We're in Paris - do you realize it - we're in Paris."

I am getting rather weary and am no sure how I get back to the New Hotel. But, I go down as far as the Place de Concorde. Sneak a peak at the Eiffel Tower. Decide that the Arc de Triomphe isn't within my striking range. So, I start hoofing it back towards the hotel.

Coming down, I noticed buses going to Gare du Nord. The goddess was looking after this old woman. I find a bus stop. There were English directions indicating that one could buy a bus ticket at a metro station. The bus stop was on top on a metro station. And at 2115 at night - there was still a ticket seller on duty. And, the last bus of the evening was scheduled to arrive at 2127. So, for less than two bucks I got back to the New Hotel.

At the Paris Nord Cafe, I had a wonderful late supper: omelet, salade, frites, a glass of wine and espresso. (For much less than the 18 eruo grill cheese sandwich.)

The New Hotel

I know this is more than you wanted to know about my 23 hours and 55 minute trip to Paris. But, this Blog really is my diary. And, this adventure to Paris was strangely important to me.

See Paris - and die. "What the heck are you doing, woman?"