Paris satellite summary

View Summer ‘09 Euro trek – Paris in a larger map

Full Paris photosets: Andy’s (flickr) | Nick’s (SimpleViewer)

Parisian montage

I only recorded bits and pieces of Paris with my low-budget pocket-cam, but the video adds some variety. The commentary mixed in with the Arc de Triomphe clips is actually from a week later, shot during a late-night back-alley Kebab chat in Montpellier.

Train to Paris

…via Rotterdam Arrival at Gare de Paris-Nord Our train deposited us into the heart of Paris mid-afternoon. Best part about taking trains over flying: trains deposit you directly into the middle of the action. And, in Paris’s case, they greet you with a mechanically bobbing wing-flapping white mystery box contraption. I can only assume these things will be huge in the states in the next 2-3 years.

Basilique du Sacré-Cœur

The day was overcast so the views from (and of) Sacré-Cœur were grayer and gloomier than they might’ve been, but still a gorgeous panorama and an impressively ornate catholic basilica – which, to my architecturally naive eyes, looked more like the Taj Majal than any other church I’ve seen. Physical panhandling at the entrance A posse of aggressively panhandling braceleteers greeted us at the bottom of the hill up to Sacré-Cœur, blockading the entry staircase and swooping in with loops of thread aimed at our wrists. I think the idea is if they get the loops on the wrists then the people attached to the wrists gotta pay up, since the thread can’t be removed without breaking once it’s lassoed a wrist. Now granted, we still had our frame backpacks on, were at a major tourist attraction, didn’t speak much French (any French in my case), and fit into several naive tourist stereotypes. But I’d still say these clowns over-stepped acceptable first-world panhandling limits. My wrist was grabbed pretty vigorously for a few seconds of idle English banter (me: “no thanks!” braceleteer, still holding wrist: “hey where you from man?” me again: “seriously, don’t touch”). Happily, the bracelet-lasso never found its target, and my frame pack and I staggered to freedom. Looking south: Pompidou Center, Notre Dame, Église Saint-Eustache, Les Invalides, and Place du Panthéon(??) all visible on the horizon. Eiffel Tower would’ve been off the right/west.

Getting bohemian in La Bohéme

We had a few hours before our hosts would be home, so we applied my in-depth knowledge of Paris (gleaned skimming the Lonely Planet guide on the train) and marched ourselves and our backpacks a dozen blocks west and north (and uphill) into Montmartre. The iconic lost bohemia of Paris, where Picasso and Van Gogh once set their easels, still offered up some backstreet charm once we slipped past the touristy kitsch in Place Tertré, the central square. I couldn't resist buying a piece of French kitty-kat paraphernalia, and Nick's inner Frenchman obliged him to snag a cheap bottle of vino, slump down on the curb, and sip it in a forlornly French bohemian street-philosopher sort of way. Le Passe-Muraille: “The Walker-Through-Walls” @ Place Marcel Aymé. Nick procured a housewarming gift for our hosts at this impossibly French mini meat market, and also found a suitable replacement for the “emergency sausage” he’d caved in and grilled at Nick & Anya’s BBQ in Utrecht. Here are a few more random shots from the neighborhood. Hunger and sore backs compelled us away from Cabaret temptation into the Metro station.

Home base on Rue Daguerre

Our gracious hosts Jeremy and Karin lived on Rue Daguerre, a quaint but bustling side street in the Montparnasse quartier. My Americàn multicultural naivete was on display right off the bat when I missed the 3-kiss salute with Karin and went straight for the handshake. Nick cleverly erred on the wiser path of just kissing cheeks until instructed to stop. Being a drizzly Monday night things in the neighborhood were low-key, but we ducked around the corner for ceviche and more blood pudding (I was hooked after Ireland) before topping off the night with whiskey and wine on the covered patio at Café Daguerre. In the morning the street was all the bustle with shops and cafés… but we had some sights to see across town. Our local subway stop, a few blocks from where we crashed in Paris, turned out to be at the entrance to the Parisian catacombs. I’d watched an eerily compelling History channel special a couple years prior about them and would’ve loved another day to explore, but we had a lot to squeeze into our second and only full day.

Full Paris photosets: Andy’s (flickr) | Nick’s (SimpleViewer)

Pages: 1 2