Petra and I went to Paris for 4 days. I had a pretty good time, but I can assure you it was not my favorite city. I´m glad I was able to go there, see the sites, and experience all that Paris has to offer, but I don´t see myself ever feeling the need to go back. In light of this single lifetime journey to Paris, I will just write one single entry in my blog.
I´ve already written about the horrible entry we had into the city. Things got a bit better, but not much. I´m convinced the French truly do not like people who don´t speak French, nor do they enjoy tourists. I fell into both of those categories.
Our hotel was pretty cool. It was small (both the hotel itself and the room), but it was very centrally located. In fact, it was like 2 blocks from the Louvre. I brought a travel sized French phrase book and brought it everywhere I went. I must say though, French is not an easy language. Sometimes you drop the last letters of the word, sometimes you don´t. Also the words for water and where are spelled different, but sound something along the lines of ¨ooo¨. We didn´t learn the basics. We learned the essentials: etiquette (hello, please, thanks, etc), water, bathroom, even ¨where is there a bar that has sports tv¨. All this aside, the single most important thing we learned, very early in the trip, was ¨Parlez voux anglais?¨- Do you speak English?
We did most of the touristy things, including the Louvre, which is by far the single most impressive museum I have ever vistied. Ever. We also saw Notre Dame, the Musee dÓrsay, the Pantheon, and the site where Marie-Antoinette was held before her execution. We were also able to see a ballet at the Opera Garnier, which is a really spectacular building. However, we bought the 7euro tickets, the ones with ¨a partially restricted view¨. Unknown to us at the time, but that partial view was not just from a pole being in our way. No, it was also from the people in the 2 rows in front of us leaning over the side so they could see. Some women even stood up at times. We officially had the worst seats in the house. On top of that, it wasn´t the best ballet I´ve ever seen. It was nice to watch, but we were over it by intermission and left.
We went to the Erotic Museum one day, and apparently this is located in a sort of red light district. After deciding to not stop in the strip club next door for a lap dance, we went into the 7 story museum. It was interesting, especially since some of the floors also played porn. Thankfully we wound up here in the middle of the day. I have a feeling this place would be crowded with ¨crazies¨after dusk.
Our last night in Paris involved getting a nice dinner at the restuarant across from our house. Because I´m lazy and don´t feel like typing it all out, and because I could never in a million years top Petra´s poetic account of this dining experience, please go to her entry: Americans Dining In Paris.
So after ending up drinking 2-3 of a bottle of wine, we wandered over to the Eiffel Tower. At this point it was dusk and it was sooooo pretty! We stood in awe of it for a little while, then stood in line. Petra left for the bathroom and to scope out the other lines, and in the 10 or so minutes she was gone, I had not moved once. It appeared this line would take 2 hours to get through.
Fortunately, I was feeling bold enough to take the stairs. There was no line there, and you could take the stairs to the second floor and then take an elevator the rest of the way. I saw a landing about 15 stories above me and figured that couldn´t be so bad. So we did it.
It turns out that landing I saw was only the first floor. The second floor involved climbing up even more stairs. I´m pretty scared of heights, but I powered through. We enjoyed the view and then took the elevator up. While in line, the lights kept turning off. We weren´t sure if this was supposed to happen or if there was a technical problem. Either way, I was getting to the top of that damn tower!
I will post pictures once I´m home. They´re breathtaking. The lights from the city plus the light of the half moon really gave a great view. It was totally worth it.
Finally it was time to go home. We were worried that since the airport shuttle driver couldn´t find us at the arrivals section of the tiniest airport EVER that he wouldn´t be able to find us in the middle of the Arc de Triumphe, which is a large monument in the middle of the single largest roundabout I have ever laid eyes on. What gets me the most about this roundabout is that there are no lane lines. There are simply 10 or 12 streets funneling into this insanity, otherwise known a giant clusterfuck of cars. While waiting for our shuttle driver, I took a video. Again, that will be posted in a couple of days 
Amazingly enough we were found. Now onto Paris BVA. This is the craziest airport ever. There are 4 gates, but there´s a total of probably 30 chairs. The rest of the room (yes, one room, singular) is a big open space. I wasn´t sure what to do given the amount of people standing there. So we just stood and looked around trying to figure out what gate we were at. But our gate wasn´t yet assigned. No one´s was. Just as we learned that, an announcement for another flight came over the intercom. IMMEDIATELY people started rushing over to gate D. Yes ladies and gentlemen, it was a stampede. I couldn´t move so I clinged tightly to my belongings and hoped no one knocked me over. Soon enough it was over and somehow a rather neat looking line had formed. This process repeated itself until finally it was our turn. We ended up being one of the last in line, but were still able to sit together somehow. Gotta love RyanAir.
So that was my one trip to Paris. I was grateful to be back in Spain, where I knew the language and didn´t feel so helpless. Having the beach just steps away from me didn´t hurt either
