Paris 2.0

I knew I wanted to see a few different places than I saw during my first visit to the City of Lights. I perused my Euro guidebook for tips on sites I hadn't seen and circled spots of interest. After some self-reflection regarding places I'd highlighted, I learned something really deep about myself: I really like dead people. Seriously, three of the places I noted had corpses as the main attraction (we ultimately only visited one).

With my dead-people fascination in mind, our first stop in Paris was the Catacombs, a dark, musty labyrinth of subterranean tunnels decoratively packed with millions of displaced corpses. The Catacombs occupy only a small fraction of the abandoned stone mines that twist for 280 kilometers beneath the city.

The empty mines became the mildly-disturbing-but-intriguing bone depository that they are today out of need and availability. Paris needed space for dead bodies, and the abandoned tunnels offered virtually endless space. The city's cemeteries were quite literally overflowing with human remains back in the 1700s. Decaying organic material was seeping into the water supply. Parisians were being buried en masse and then exhumed once their flesh gave way to bones that could be stored above ground.

It sounds like it was a pretty gross situation, and the solution was almost equally as gross: put the bones of 6 million people into black-covered horse-drawn carriages and transport them into the mines over the course of two years. Then, stack them decoratively and make it a tourist attraction.

Sure, it's morbid and a little disconcerting, but you have to admit it's kind of cool. At the entrance is an inscription in Latin reading "Stop! Here lies the Empire of Death." You really can't imagine how many 6 million skeletons are until you see them piled many-bones high and many-bones deep.

The Catacombs aren't circular, so where you begin is not where you end up. We emerged out of a strangely nondescript exit on a residential side street. We figured we'd wander and stumble upon a good spot for lunch, but we quickly learned an important lesson about Paris (which I had forgotten since my last visit): It's expensive.

From what we saw, French meals started at about 15 euros and went up from there. Aside from the price, there was also the issue of not being able to read the menus in the non-touristy area we were in. So, like the vile Americans we are, we went to the only place we felt at home, McDonald's. Every time I eat there abroad I do so in shame, but a BigMac can fill me up for 6.50 euros, so it's a matter of economics, really. We vowed to eat at a French place the next day. (Later that night, our Christmas Eve meal was pizza and fries at a Middle Eastern pizzeria/crepes place.)

Christmas Eve in Paris.

Fortunately, entrance into Notre Dame was free. The place is beautiful, it really is, but on the scale of great European churches, it's not at the top of my list (read here if you want to hear me rave about the cathedral in Sevilla, Spain).

For Christmas Eve mass there, we showed up about 50 minutes early, waited in a cattle chute-like line and then headed in to take our seats about 3/4 of the way to the back. It was officially an "international mass," and we thought maybe there'd be a copy of everything in English. There wasn't. The mass program listed a couple of readings in English, and the Gospel was read in English, but aside from that, everything was French and Latin, neither of which I speak. We couldn't understand anything, really, but (mostly) everyone there shared a common belief and a common purpose, and we can all understand that, right?

The more impressive church, in my opinion, is the Sacre Couer Basilica in the trendy, artsy Montmarte district, and entrance to the main sanctuary is free there, too. (You can pay to go into the dome for better views, but the church steps have wonderful panoramas, and you don't have to spend a dime.)

I hadn't visited the Sacre Couer before, but once I saw pictures, I was kind of ashamed I hadn't heard of the place. How do you go to Paris and not realize there's a stunning white-domed basilica high on a hill, keeping watch over the city? I'm glad I made it there this time - and I have no complaints about the 400-some steps we climbed to get there.

We strolled through quirky Montmarte, through the ubiquitous Paris prints, postcards and tacky tourist bags. We found what, in our naive tourist eyes, seemed like a relatively authentic French restaurant offering two small courses and a dessert for 15 euros. We had promised ourselves to eat something like it, so we grabbed a table inside the tiny place. I had French onion soup for my first course, which was delicious. I ordered a chicken fillet with herbs for my second course, but the waitress messed up and brought me spaghetti instead. I didn't have the heart to point out the error. For dessert I had a crepe. So, I kind of ate French food...? Right? Right?

Way too cute.

Pardon this jolting transition that really isn't a transition at all: I really, really dislike art museums, so the Louvre's massiveness in and of itself gives me anxiety. But it's kind of sinful to go to Paris and skip one of the city's most iconic spots.

This doesn't even begin to capture Louvre's scale.

Even so, I would've committed that sin a second time (I didn't go there on my first Paris visit) had Todd not been influenced by his travel conscience - "I think I might regret not going in to see the Mona Lisa when I was so close." I've got no definitive proof, but my assumption is that, like me, many people go in there to see the Mona Lisa and some of Michelangelo's marble handiwork. The problem is that this crush of clueless tourists vying for position to view the Mona Lisa makes the place all the more miserable. The portrait is behind a wall of glass, so it feels distant, impersonal and institutional, quite frankly. If you like art, the Louvre has an amazing array of it and is without a doubt worth visiting. But if your primary motivation is seeing one of the most prized and famous paintings in the world, the 11 euro entrance fee is just too much.

What is worth your money, however, is the Eiffel Tower, even if it is cliche Paris. We took a 2-mile riverside stroll to see it at night, and it was worth every foot ache-inducing step.

The tower itself is stunning illuminated in yellow, and the same is true, too, for all of Paris. The city has an electricity at night - it's loud and alive and perhaps a bit obnoxious but in the most glorious sense of the word. A bit of hard-won wisdom regarding the Eiffel, though: Buy tickets in advance to skip the entrance lines.

That's all, folks.
Un saludo,
Teresa

Older and wiser (I think)

On the train between Bruges and Paris I looked through photos of my first trip to Paris, the one I took with a high school friend when I was an 18-year-old who'd barely been out of the Midwest and who'd never really traveled without an adult. I hadn't looked at them in years, but I remembered lots of people telling me how they lived my first European adventure along with me through my photos.

I was expecting to see some really good stuff. I'm not sure why, considering they were taken on a simple point-and-shoot and I lack anything resembling photography skills. Needless to say, I was disappointed. Instead of really focusing on the beauty of the place, I took pictures of girls in parachute pants and hotel wallpaper. You know, the typical weird, 18-year-old-isn't-this-so-funny-inside-jokes-are-awesome type stuff.

What an inspirational shot.

I'm 23 now, and I still take enough stupid photos for you and me both. But I like to think I'm a bit older and wiser this time around. I take photos of streets, scenery and landmarks straight-on, upside-down and backwards if I need to. As I said before, I'm not a particularly good photographer, and I still don't have a particularly good camera. But I've resolved to try to my best to capture what I'm seeing so that I can see it again just the same in 37 years.

My friend and I were in Paris last time for a couple of days. She and I launched a 48-hour tourist blitz on the city: the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Moulin Rouge and the Palace of Versailles. Today I read the emails I sent home during that trip and giggled at my totally unprofound, inarticulate teenage self. Some gems:

"[regarding buying train tickets] Anyway, when we were waiting in line we see these 5 French military men walked around the train station in uniform with guns (and this is not an exaggeration) the size of m16's on the front of them. It was scary. And they just stared us down the entire time they went up the escalator. Later, we saw 5 or 6 policeman with big guns on them too--not exactly the greatest first impression. After we got our tickets, we found the metro and started attempting to conquer that. It was much more difficult than London was. You have to buy metro tickets with coins apparently, they don't accept cash. so, after waiting in line for that we had to go attempt to get coins. So, I went to a little magazine shop in the station to ask for change in exchange for my cash. The cashier advised me to go to the toilets to get change. So, I did."

Snappy commentary from 23-year-old Teresa who's convinced she's smarter now: Overuse of simple sentences and chronological order. Also, I did not notice any sort of military presence this time around. And the Paris metro system is almost as basic as it gets. 

"In the [train] station there are a lot of beggars. They dress like the stereotypical gypsie. They approach you and ask if you speak English, and when you say you do, they give you a piece of paper begging you for money to support their family. I made the mistake of saying I spoke English the first time, but I learned my lesson and ignored them after that. There were gypsies everywhere outside of Notre Dame as well. They never tried to steal anything from me, but it was still somewhat frightening."

Commentary: Um, welcome to Europe? I didn't see the droves of beggars this time around, although I did have to tell Todd to stop responding to seemingly well-intentioned strangers when they approached him in the stations. 

"we got our tickets for the metro and found our hotel, which was nothing special but decent. The bed was hilariously small and the entire room was wallpapered and tiled (y es the walls were tiled). But the bathroom was nice, so it wasn't too bad."

Yet another wallpaper shot.

Commentary: Cheap hotels' bathrooms are always their most important selling points. Also, glad you learned quickly that Euro accommodations are generally Euro tiny.

"On the first day we went to the Eiffel and to the Arc de Triomphe. The Arc was very large, but there was a mililtary service or something of the sort going on so we couldn't get very close. But it was much larger than I expected, and of course I got pictures. I'm not sure what the Arc actually is (which I probably should've figured out before we went) but it was still impressive."

Commentary: I'd take back the "impressive" comment if I could. It's just an arch, really.

"I must say, the Eiffel is definitely worth seeing. It is absolutely massive. Prior to seeing it, I wouldn't have recommended ever visiting Paris, but the Eiffel is very neat. The very top was closed when we originally bought our tickets, so we just went to the second tier. Once we got up there, I had no desire to go any higher. It was already pretty darn high. The views of Paris from up there are absolutely amazing!! Paris is HUGE! Paris actually looked quite pretty from up there, because the buildings are so unique (just like from the movies) and you can't see all the poor people and graffiti. Speaking of graffiti, there is literally graffiti on EVERY building, I'm not even kidding.

Commentary: Yeah, all those poor people really bring a place down. Paris would be so much better if it were flooded with even more tourists jockeying for position to snap photos on their fancy Canons. Also, either Paris cleaned up its act since 2008 or I was blind this time around because I didn't see much graffiti. But the Eiffel was as cool as ever.

"Paris subways are pretty dirty and dark, whereas London's are all very bright, clean and they're mostly very large stations with escalators everywhere. Paris is mostly stairs, which gets difficult after a while."

Commentary: I'm an 18-year-old with the incredible opportunity to visit Paris and I complain about having to take the stairs? 

"[regarding Versailles] The palace is very ornate and historical. There is horribly tacky gold everywhere, but the views of outside are beautiful. The gardens are gorgeous. I have quite a few pictures of that, I think."

Commentary: No, Teresa, actually you don't. But for good measure, you made sure you got a close-up of your and your friend's faces.

 "We went shopping for a bit after Notre Dame, and then we went to check out the Louvre. Mom, Les, and Stac---that place is absolutely GINORMOUS! I can't imagine how horrible it would've been to go in there and see ALL that art ;) I took 3 videos of it to show you guys just how huge it really it. It's a very neat building on the outside, I must admit, but I think I can leave without ever seeing what lives inside."

Commentary: I went to the Louvre on my most recent visit, and I can tell you that what lives inside is an overwhelming crush of oil paintings and marble statues and the underwhelming Mona Lisa.

Sorry for all the sarcasm. It's just easy to make fun of myself. I'll share my poignant observations of Paris 2012 in my next post. Then in another five years you can read my even-wiser 28-year-old self's sharp-tongued remarks.

Un saludo,
Teresa