Paris In A Nutshell...How Did It Get Into A Nut, With A Shell...Like This?

SO I AM STILL CATCHING UP WITH WRITING ABOUT ALL MY TRAVELS. HERE IS THE MOST RECENT INSTALLMENT. PAIRS. BARCELONA AND AMSTERDAM TO COME SHORTLY. ENJOY.

Following a long day of travels we landed in Paris in the evening of Saturday the 18th of December. We took three connections on trains and subways in order to get to the first hotel of our trip that we were going to be staying at for the next three nights.

This place ended up being right in the heart of Chinatown. Now, I don’t know if this is common knowledge or not, but it seems that there is a China Town in every city in the world. That is just mind-blowing to me. I had no idea that there were large enough communities of Asians across the globe to warrant China towns for each major city on the planet. Guess I was just misinformed.

UPDATE: This just in. Liz has now informed me that 1 in 3 people in the world are Chinese. If true, this is absolutely unbelievable. And a bit scary at the same time. I can see it though, can you?

Hunger had stuck once more so we walked out into the world that is Paris to find something to quell our appetites.


SIDE NOTE: Why is that one must eat all the time? Why can’t one just eat when one feels inclined to, out of a longing for a tasty meal…and not a dire hunger? It seems to me that this would make more sense. Maybe this thought process comes out of a financial necessity to have this discussion, but either way, someone should look into this. OK? Great.


We made our way through China town, looking at menu after menu and after a few 10-12 euros meals, I had personally had enough. I made the suggestion that we see what prices McDonalds was offering in this country, so that is exactly what we did. It was actually quite reasonable compared to Geneva, so I was sold. I treated my self to what they call a “Maxi Best of ‘Big Mac’” meal deal of sorts. I was so hungry I might have died, but after I ate that Big Mac in under 2 minutes flat, I felt way relieved to have some food in my stomach. (I ended up living through the event) We have been so busy seeing the sights that hunger goes unnoticed in the middle of the day and we end up skipping lunch most of the time. In reference to the previous side note, you can imagine how ok I am with this.

After this hearty meal we went back to the hotel, showered and crashed out of shear exhaustion. Sheryl ended up puking once more from a salad she ate at McDonalds. We all think she just had some weird stomach bug and she ended up getting better the following day.








So let’s see now. It’s been a while since I was actually on the trip so this will be a bit more shaky then the first European trip entry, but here it goes anyway. (Sheryl and I did take some notes at the Gatwick airport before leaving for Amsterdam, but we didn’t get very far. There will probably be a noticeable gap. My memory has never been my rock.)


DAY 7

Today we managed to drag ourselves out of bed pretty early. At this point I had started to realize that I could sleep later than the others due to Sheryl taking a ridiculous amount of time to get ready each day. I didn’t mind too much though as the trip rolled on because it did afford me certain luxuries. After making it out of the hotel and onto the subway, we ended up getting off in the middle of town. Seeing as this was our first day out on the prowl, we really had no clue as to where to go or what we wanted to do. On top of that, hunger had struck again. Good God. After a short walk in the freezing cold, we ended up sitting down for sandwiches at a local café. This is where I was introduced to the beauty of Dijon mustard in Paris. MMMmmm Mmmm Mm. There’s nothing like it, I can assure you.

After a hearty meal and some café lattes, we made an executive decision to start our day of sightseeing off with the church known as Notre Dam. SANCTUARY! Walking up to the church was an amazing sight. The sheer size of the building was quite impressive and the decorations for Christmas were in full force. A huge tree stood in the center of the square outside, complete with ornaments and all. Even though it was bitter cold outside, there we still quite a large number of crowds.

As we walked inside the church we were confronted with a fully functional church service. The place was packed in an odd juxtaposition of tourists and worshipers. Stained glass was everywhere, and even with the gloomy weather outside, it was just as beautiful as it would have been during the summer months (or so I can assume.)

As we walked around the perimeter of the church we came upon a nativity scene that had been set up for Christmas. Although lavishly created, this nativity scene was missing one crucial element. BABY JESUS! Missing. About a foot and half tall, son of Virgin Mary; please, if anyone has any information as to the disappearance of the Son of God, please call Notre Dam, they are looking for him.

After we had had about enough of God, we proceeded to walk our way out of the huge doors, being herded like cattle back into the real world. Zach made his way out first, but not before I got him with a solid “fuck you.”

BRIEF EXPLINATION: There is a wonderful game that has made its way into my sick head and it has come to be known as the “fuck you game.” Originating in the streets of Boulder Colorado, the game has since traveled to many different areas of the world. The rules are in fact very simple; get someone’s undivided attention by saying something like, “Hey Zach, guess what!” Zach looks at me, waiting for me to fill his anticipation with the answer, but no! This is where you get hit! “Fuuuuck you buddy,” with a smile of course. Now, any derivation of attention getting is welcome, as long as the person is waiting for you to say something. The longer they wait in anticipation, the stronger the hit. If you wait to long, the can block you. How do you beat the incoming “fuck you” you ask? Well, by realizing its coming, and saying “fuck you” to the person before you get hit! Great game. Can be played over the phone, email, as well as many other interesting outlets. Enjoy, and spread the love.

So back to Zach getting it. So as he was under the door frame, about to leave the church, I said, “Hey Zach, hold up!” He stopped and popped his head back into the church, only to be reamed with a solid “Fuuuuck you.” I know, I know, it was a little sacrilegious, but I couldn’t resist.

As we walked away we realized that the clothing that had gotten us through the first leg of the trip was not enough to keep us warm in this freezing cold city. Scarves were next on the list. Ahhhh, that’s better.

We then walked a long ways into the northern part of the city, used an internet café in some random area, and then went to the Museum of Erotica. Right before we got to the museum we got our first official French croissant for 70-cent euro, and let me tell you, it was greeeat. We also got a little lost for a minute on the way to the museum and we walked into this hillier area of the city, with narrow streets and people all over. We still don’t know exactly where we were, but it was different from any other part of the city we had seen, and I really enjoyed it.

Inside the Museum we were taken back by the wide array of ancient dildos. Wooden, Metal, marble, you name it, they used it. Crazy sculptures, trinkets, porn from the 20’s, Native American, Asian, and many other cultures, it was all enclosed in the 7 (count ‘em) stories of this wonderful museum. The best pieces in my opinion were these intricate wire sculptures that were animated scenes, usually containing some sort of erotic humor that also doubled as music boxes. The seventh and final floor was covered wall to wall with cartoon depictions of some of the most horrific thoughts and ideals you have ever seen. For example: The Virgin Mary giving birth to an already crucified Jesus. Isn’t that precious.

After we left we walked to the Moulin Rouge, which was already in the sex district we had come to earlier. It was a huge square with sex shops, peep shows, and just basically sex related things all over the place. At this point we had had about enough.

Right before we were going to walk down into the Metro train station, we approached a candy stand that smelled soooo damn good, due to the candy covered peanuts they were cooking. I was a little out of it and without knowing what I was doing…in a way…I picked up a piece of the candy and got yelled at for the first time in French. We already had Italian under our belts, so I was ready for it.

We finally got back to our hotel (Hotel Nuvex) after the sun went down, and got ready to go out to dinner, seeing as how we had somehow skipped lunch…again. We went to a Chinese restaurant about 3 minutes walk from our China Town hotel, and got some delicious meat and veggies. Not enough food for me though. For some reason I had strapped on an extra stomach for the trip and one meal was never enough to quell the beast within. Oh well, maybe next meal.

We had reached a breaking point in how long it had been since we were online with email and contacts, so we went to the McDonalds (where for some strange reason they had free wireless internet) and made some phone calls from my computer.

I tried to get a hold of my French housemate that was home in Paris for the holidays, but to no avail. Then we tried to get a hold of Sheryl’s friend from school who had been living in Paris for the semester, no luck there either. I then remembered how my cousin Rob gave me the name of a guy I should hook up with while in Paris, so I gave Haingo a call.

He was down for anything, even on such short notice, and within 2 hours he met us at our hotel to go out for some drinks. He had driven all the way in from a half hour outside of Paris just to take us out. Let me just say, this was the nicest guys in the world, and on top of that he was extremely smart and interesting to carry on a conversation with. Over drinks we got to know each other and I learned just how far back Haingo went with my Cuz.

Somehow Zach had gone from sober to drunk in 20 minutes flat as he proceeded to ask every question twice…Haingo answered without fail….even when it came to thermal depolymerization and hydrogen power, RIGHT ON HAINGO. Way to stay on top of your shit!

In the 2 hours time that we were at this bar, Zach asked where their bathroom was…more than once. How many times can one person ask to go to the SAME bathroom, I mean honestly. And on top of that, he tripped on the same step each time he made his way to the back of the bar. Wild night.

When it came time to get the bill, Haingo was all over it! Zach thru 20 euros in the mix and Haingo spotted the other 80 or so. Very damn nice of this guy who we just met. Haingo, much love buddy.

We walked home through the freezing cold before getting home and munching an entire bar of chocolate. Zach’s drunk ass was obsessed with wanting to make soup, although there was no hot water in our little hotel room to mix with the packets we had bought in Geneva. Keep up the good work Mannon.

As we were all passing out, Zach was asleep in two seconds flat and instantly began to snore. Not long after that he awoke with one of the most violent entire-body spasms I have ever seen! He nearly fell off the bed he twitched so bad! We all laughed hysterically at the absurdity of it all, good times…wasn’t the last time either.


DAY 8

We got up a little earlier today in order to make the most of our second day in Paris, and we decided the first stop would be Jim Morrison’s gravesite. We took a few trains to get there, and Zach held onto the wicked hangover from the previous nights debauchery the entire way there. When we got into the part of the city that the cemetery was located in, we went and had some more horribly made sandwiches. Please, people of the United States, cherish your sandwiches, they are in fact the best in the world. (and not to mention Mexican food…ahhhh Mexican food.) On account of the fact that Zach and Sheryl had minimal amounts of French between the two of them, we just guessed at the contents of each sandwich. Zach ended up getting some sort of tuna/patte shit, we might never know what it really was. Ew. If that wasn’t enough of a letdown, the lattes we had were almost as expensive as the damn crap sandwiches. Lame.

As we got closer to the cemetery, Zack made it known that he wanted to get a rubbing of the gravestone. He also told me some interesting facts about Mr. Jim’s death that some of you might not know. It is believed that Morrison did not die when people say he did, overdosed in a Paris bathtub. At the time of his death, only two people actually saw his body, and it is believed that he made his way down to Mexico to live out a more secretive life, until his death some years later. Speculation, but interesting all the same. We looked around a bit until we found a flower shop with a guy working behind a desk who was nice enough to lend us a pencil and some paper so we could get the job done.

After making our way across the street to the graveyard, we walked around for a minute thinking it was going to be easy to find Morrison’s memorial. It was not. This was the largest collection of dead people I had ever seen! We had to go back to the map and look again before we started to navigate the corpses once more.

Finally we found the grave, which was guarded by a security officer and a fence that ran around the perimeter of his tomb. You couldn’t get close enough to do a rubbing, and in this case there was a 50,000 euro fine for jumping the fence! We contemplated it, but then opted against being deported. Would have been one hell of a story though, that’s for sure. Where do you think they would have sent me? Can you choose? “Um, ya, I’d like to go back to London if it’s not too much trouble…al my shit is there. Come on Frenchy, have a heart!” J

We then went back and returned the pencil to the now closed flower shop, like the good kind-hearted Americans that we are. I wanted to go and look around the cemetery a little more, so we went back across the street for some more post-mortem exploration. This place was just so old and held so much history it was amazing. Many of the walkways had warped over time from the hundreds of years of mourners visiting the gigantic resting ground.

After we had had our fill, we got back on the Metro and took a train all the way across the city to the Eiffel Tower. The ride was spectacular, chalk full of views of the entire city. River after river we made our way to the opposite end of Paris, all the while being entertained by random appearances from local musicians who would ride in our cab for a while, then move on.

Once we got off the train, I stood at the edge of the platform and lowered my camera to get a shot from the surface of the tracks. As I was waiting for the timer to count down, the train was coming up fast and it was definitely a close one, but I made it out alive! (and so did my camera) Praise Jesus! Plus, I got the shot, so that’s what counts in the end, right?

When we left the station, we could already see the tower in the distance so we headed in the direction of all the other tourist herds. As we got closer the tourism was biting, along with the cold. Once we got a clear view of the tower, I was absolutely blown away by the sheer size of it. It was WAY bigger than I had expected and it really had an aura all its own. It was honestly breathtaking…to say the least.

We chilled (no pun intended) there for a little while, just taking it all in, before we decided it was once again time to eat. After a small search, we settled on this little café about a block off the park. This was the first place we were treated poorly, just for the way we looked and sounded. They stuck us in this corner, barely paying any attention to us, until we forcibly called them over to help us. They wouldn’t even look us in the eye. Sheryl was making her best efforts at interacting with them in French and they were treating us like we were the scum of the earth. Well, we showed them, we jipped them on our bill by nearly a whole Euro. BASTARDS!

It was now time to get our frozen butts over to the mother of all museums, The Louvre. So we show up at 4:00ish and plan to be there until they close around 9:00ish. We pay our entry fee and make our way into one of the 109,827,828,172,912 exhibitions. First stop, the Mona Lisa. After reading Da Vinci Code, it was awe-inspiring to be able to walk through the halls of The Louvre, the same halls that were written about in the Brown novel. There was in fact a Da Vinci Code tour that we could have taken, but we opted against it. Next time.

So after checking out the most visited painting in the world, we started our search through the museum for other items of interest. After wandering through the Egyptian and Masters sections, the museum started closing certain area. This was interesting to us, seeing as we were planning on being there for a few more hours at least. Welp, the museum wasn’t having any of that. Leave it to us to show up at the museum late in the day the one afternoon they close at 5:30. Wow. Could our luck have been any worse. I think not.

So, we left, having only seen the Mona Lisa and a few other things. When we came outside and caught a glance of the Pyramid on the exterior of the Museum, all was good in the world of Blake J. The moon high above, the sky glowing a purple-blue tone, and the air, a nipple biting cold, things couldn’t have been any nicer. I took a few shots of the pyramid, and then we took a walk through an un-named park (un-named because we never learned the name, come on people, it was dark) towards the Eiffel Tower. I was set on seeing the landmark at night even though we had already been there earlier that day. Knowing it was our last night in Paris, now was the time.

Sheryl and Zach were set on taking the Metro over there, but I was having such an inspirational night, that I though a walk would be better. Somehow I convinced them of this, and we were on our way.

Coming up on the tower was once again breathtaking, but altogether different. At night they have it light up with sparkling lights covering the entire surface area of the tower. It is quite a sight to see. The light only comes on every hour or so, but when they do, everyone is stopped in their tracks, even the locals out walking their dogs in the park below. I don’t know if I can make it any clearer, this is one of the coolest man made things I have ever seen. I got some post card shots and we were on our way. J

We went back to the hotel room and rested for a minute before we went out to dinner and had some Chinese food, once again. Not many options when your smack dab in the middle of China town. I had just about enough of not being full after meals, so tonight I opted for the full buffet option. Man, people like me should not be able to eat at buffets. I felt like Homer Simpson. Poor bastards.

Later that night I almost went out by myself to meet up with Haingo once more before leaving, but thankfully Haingo went out to a movie with a friend of his. I was too tired anyway, and having to get up early for our flight the next morning, it was a blessing in disguise.

Bedtime was quite pleasant. Waking up was not. We packed the night before so we basically rolled out of bed and hopped in a taxi. When we got to the airport, I worked on writing some in my blog while Sheryl and Zach slept. While we were waiting to board, it started to snow. Sheryl had never really seen it snow before so she was quite stoked. I recalled the first time I saw it snow when I was a freshman at Boulder. I called my mom and sat in my windowsill till it got dark, just watching it fall. Today, I wasn’t so impressed. Having to get on a plane and take off on a snow-covered runway is not on my life “to do list,” but if it were, it is now crossed off.

Barcelona, here we come!


B