Eigth Stop: Paris

It is overwhelmingly obvious to me now that three nights in Paris is not nearly enough. The city has so much to offer - some of the world's finest museums, a vibrant night life, and (arguably) the best food to ever grace the palette. Hell, I could have spent the entire three days in the Louvre and I still wouldn't have seen half of the exhibits. Despite the short length of my stay, I managed to pack in the major sites while meeting some great people.

France's train infrastructure is truly top-notch. My train from Amsterdam was a TGV (that's French for really f-ing fast) train to Paris. The train reached 300 kph which to us in America is pushing 200 mph! The countryside flew by before I could even catch a glimpse. I arrived at the station in Paris to screaming Frenchmen and beating drums. I deduced that it was some kind of protest; the military attended with their automatic weapons, which provided yet another hint. Civil unrest was abound - I really was in France.


The hostel I stayed in is called St. Christopher's Inn. Rather than the homey little hostels I have become accustomed to, this hostel is an enormous new building with state-of-the-art facilities. Not only were the rooms immaculately clean, the first floor of the building has a bar, cafe, and club, lest I want to dance the night away without leaving the comfort of my hostel.


I meet some Scottish guys in the bar after I get situated and we have a few drinks. Roy and Craig convince me to join them on a pub crawl that night. Still worn out from Amsterdam, I resist at first, but the Scots question my manhood and I quickly concede. It was going to be a late night.


The pub crawl was a blast and, luckily, we are given deals at bars. Otherwise, there was no way I was going to afford one, let alone many, alcoholic beverages. I don't know if it was the city of Paris affecting the women or if I was spitting my A-game, but I was quite popular on this pub crawl. I won't go into details here, but let it be known that I didn't do so bad with the ladies in Paris.


I awoke the next morning quite a bit later than I would have liked, but ate breakfast and joined some guys I met the night before. They were actually from Illinois and one just graduated from U of I in industrial engineering. What are the odds? We decided to check out the Catacombs first, which had come recommended from another guy at the hostel. Nothing better than thousands of human remains before noon.


The Catacombs began a little dull with winding paths and not much to look at. Then came the bones and they...are...awesome! I had heard stories, but it doesn't compare to thousands of stacked femurs and skulls in the shape of hearts and crosses. The French must enjoy their dark humor or take a light-hearted view of death, because art projects with human bones are not normal. By the way, I was extremely close to taking a skull with me out of the Catacombs. I had the skull in my hand and my backpack open, but I couldn't pull the trigger. That skull would have looked so perfect as a mantlepiece...


The other Chicagoans went back to the hostel to takes naps, so I decided I would walk the city and meet them at the Louvre at 6 PM, the time at which the entry is free on Fridays to people under 26. Paris is a beautful city to walk especially with sunny weather. I see the French Pantheon, Notre Dame (best stained glass I've ever seen), and the Centre Pompidou. I didn't actually get the chance to go inside Centre Pompidou, but if I ever return to Paris, I am going to spend a lot of time there. The comptemporary architecture sucked me in right from the get go.


The Louvre - where do I start? I only spent three and a half hours there, yet I already believe it is the greatest museum I have ever been to. It isn't just the quantity of items (and there is a huge quantity), but it is the diversity, the layout, the showstoppers. It is overwhelming in every sense of the word. You are bombarded with art and history on a giant scale. From Egypt to Persia to the Renaissance, the Louvre has it all.


We went to a nice meal that night at a place recommended by my trust Lonely Planet book. The food was delicious: beet salad, rabbit, and lemon pie for dessert. It was a perfect French meal. The waiter was kind of an ass, though. It ended up taking us 45 minutes to get a check and get out. I tried not to assume his intent was malicious, but with the reputation of the French coupled with the fact that we were clearly American, my suspicion aren't completely unfounded.


The night we drank far too much in the hostel bar. They allow BYOB so we B'ed. I don't exactly know where the night went, but I do recall stumbling to bed around 5 AM. Oops. The night was worth it, though. The Scots now respect us as drinkers. It's funny how alcohol is the one thing, regardless of nationality, that brings us all together. Funny and sad.


The next day I went to Versaille, alone this time. It was an impressive sight to behold. The French monarchs really like gold things (who doesn't?). I pretended I was an Irish citizen and I got in free of charge, which actually isn't the first time I used that little ploy. I tagged along on a private tour and got a little French history lesson as well.


After Versaille I beelined over to the Eiffel Tower. The massive steel structure is an icon if there ever was one; the monument itself seems to get lost in all of the postcards and t-shirts and keychains. This is a shame because the Eiffel Tower is a modern wonder that needs to be seen to be believed. Walking toward it, the maze-like nature of the beams and rivets become all the more complex and impressive. I waited for about 40 minutes for the chance to walk up the equivalent of a 43-story building. At points I doubted my stair-climbing abilities, but I managed to make it to the second tier without too much physical pain. The view was completely worth it - you could see the entire city from the tower. Much picture taking ensued.

I am worn out physically and mentally. Despite all of this, I do not want this trip to end. I have a little over one week remaining, not nearly enough time to do all I want to do and see all I want to see. Tomorrow I travel to London which, as it turns out, is more difficult than one might think. Because my Eurail pass isn't valid in England, I am opting out of the Chunnel train ride and instead talking the rail to Calais, a ferry across the English Channel to Dover, and then a bus to London. Roger Federer is waiting for me at the All England Club, so I musn't be late.