Paris 2010 - Day 1

Day 1 - Thursday August 26^th

The Arrival

Many improvements seem to have been made to Chas. de Gaul Airport since last we visited and found it to be a throwback from the Jetsons.  It was much nicer than we remembered. 

We arrived without incident, but the incidentlessness didn’t last long……… 

As we were nearing customs Jane began looking doggedly for her passport - with no success.  We both combed through every crevice of her carry-on bag - to no avail.  I must say, Jane was outwardly very calm and collected as she declared that we had to go back to the plane to see if she’d left it there.  She promises that inwardly she was utterly verklempt!  Of course once you have left the secure area, you can't go back.  Thankfully, the security fellows got back to the plane and shortly came back with passport (and cash, credit card – Jane’s whole enchilada) in hand.  This was not the last time the good Lord looked out for us on this trip.

(Jane says:  Inwardly, I was a wreck.  I was certain that our whole trip would be ruined, I would be escorted out of the country in penury and I would never get to see Johnny Depp.  He lives in France you know.)

(Chris replies:  Shoot, I KNEW that hunky guy who was giving me the eye from across the bistro looked familiar!)

We got our checked bags, found our pre-arranged driver quickly and arrived at our hotel in time to take a little sieste (no, not siesta.  This is Paris, remember?) before heading out for our first foray onto the streets of Paris.

The First Foray

 We decided we had the energy to tackle a smallish walk, so we selected the Latin Quarter on this first afternoon without a full night’s sleep and still very much on EDT.  Though our walk began with the fountain, Place St. Michel (Davioud’s 1860 sculpture of St-Michel slaying the dragon), familiar to us from our last visit, it was the first time either of us had really explored that section of Paris.  We liked it very much.  It has a nice city neighborhood feel with quiet streets, lots of flowers and some hills. 

 (Jane adds:  Also included in this fountain area are the engraved names of those that died fighting the Nazis in 1944.)


Une jeune fille in front of a pretty Parisian fountain

 




Une jeune fille is wary of the Puking Sphynx

 

We walked past the Sorbonne – a huge structure - the famous university founded in the 13^th century.  It boasts past  professors such as Thomas Aquinas and Roger Bacon and alumni that include Dante, Calvin and Longfellow. 




La Sorbonne est un grand place!

 




Clock on exterior of Sorbonne

 


One corner of the Sorbonne's roof

 




A courtyard approaching the Sorbonne

 

I happened to see the architectural corner piece dedicated to Geology and took a photo in John’s honor.



This is a shot inside what I beleive was St-Severin, but it might have been Eglise de la Sorbonne or perhaps even St-Julien-le-Pauvre.  So many cathedrals.......

(Jane says:  We wanted to see some sites we missed the first time around, and I decided this trip I’d allow my sibling to wear comfortable shoes, because the only way to truly see Paris is to walk it.  In addition to the Sorbonne we also passed the Musee de Cluny which was something we fortunately decided we may want to come back to later in the trip.  One of the very many churches we saw on this stroll was St. Severins which was built in the 11^th century with further additions in both the 13^th and 16^th centuries, quite a cacophony of architecture and brilliant workmanship.)

(Chris interrupts:   Don’t you just love the word cacophony?)

(Jane continues:  This walking tour was primarily an architectural gawking tour which included everything from remnants of Roman Baths to the smallest house in Paris and one time homes of luminaries from Dante to Mitterand.   We were both rubbing out the crinks in our necks for the rest of the evening.)

We ended our first day on Paris by having a nice prix fixe dinner and heading to bed before dark - though it surely was dark over on the EDT side of the planet. 

On This Day in History

As we strolled around town we noticed fresh bouquets of flowers in many locations around the city.  They were hung through iron loops attached to various buildings, each located under a plaque on the building that honored the people who had lived, gone to school, or were transported from their homes to the building and detained there awaiting deportation to Nazi extermination camps.  When we asked about the occasion for the flowers, we were told that this was the 66^th anniversary of the liberation of Paris at the end of World War II.  It was very sobering to think that it was only 66 years ago – a mere 3 generations – that Paris and the rest of Europe endured such man made Hell (but then, isn’t all Hell manmade?).

Here is an example of one of the plaques we saw.

  

It translates as follows:

Arrested by the Vichy Government police, collaborators of the Nazi Occupation, more than 11,000 children were deported from France from 1942 to 1944 and assassinated at Auschwitz because they were born Jewish.

More than 500 children lived in the 4^th Arrondissement.

Among them, students from this school.

Never forget them.

(picture credit - picture found in Jennifer's blueparis.net website)

Paris 2010 - The Send Off

Acknowledgements

Chris would like to thank her sister, Jane, for making it possible to fly among the peacocks and not among the chickens.

(Jane says: I don’t really care for chicken plumage)

Chris would also like to thank her friend and literary cohort, Elizabeth Graham, for sending her the link to Christopher Moore’s Paris blog to get us in the mood for our trip.  You, too, can enjoy his exploits (complete with expletives) by going to the following link: 

http://blog.chrismoore.com/index.php/archives/476

 Jane and I had many a giggle over Mr. Moore's unique brand of observation, and it gave our entire journey a ‘snogging’ subtext.   

Verb, 1. snog - touch with the lips or press the lips (against someone's mouth or other body part) as an expression of love, greeting, etc

Wednesday August 25^th

The Departure

Jane and I began our latest travel adventure smartly dressed in similar travel friendly black slacks and jackets, first class tickets and passports at the ready.  Our toes were freshly polished and even Chris wore a full complement of makeup.  But the similarities ended when we looked at our suitcases.  Jane’s was a brand new raspberry colored piece with 4 swivel wheels for easy lugging.  Chris’s on the other hand -- wasn’t.  She toted a well traveled and well worn black number, similar, certainly, to 80% of all other travelers’ bags with the exception that she’s pretty sure hers was the only one sporting both duct tape and electrical tape.

(Jane says:  Black is not only avant gard but the real reason is that it is slightly slimming which to two menopausal metabolically challenged women is important. I don’t lug which infers schlepping, I simply pull along the raspberry hued luggage complete with the brightly colored name tag with the saying "I don’t do coach". Sadly Chris is correct, her luggage did indeed bear tapes of the duct and electrical vintage. Please excuse the pun, it was ‘very tacky’.)

(Chris replies:  Yea, but who’s going to break into a tacky black bag like that? They’d go for the raspberry parfait, for sure.)

The Journey

This was Chris’s first time traveling first class on an international flight since IBM sent her to Germany in 1982.  This IS the way to go, she avows, if one can possibly afford the extra fare.  One feels so much more rested upon arrival, and it’s so much easier on increasingly cranky bones.  Aside from that, one gets a full sized pillow and quilted blanket, plus a ditty bag filled with ear plugs, socklets, eye masks and all sorts of other wonderful stuff. 

Jane was all about the unlimited champagne.

(Jane says: This was great, one never had to ask for more. Champagne upon boarding, straight through dinner, the night and even for breakfast. For the Eloise lovers, when they refilled my glass for the third time, I looked at Chris and said " I just love the Plaza")

We departed Grand Rapids to the hugs and well wishes of Phil and the insistent yips of their amazingly small dog, Moe.  Our connecting flight in Atlanta was on time and we hit the skies for Paris already feeling the glow of said unlimited champagne (though Jane did manage to waste some of hers spilling it into Chris’s seat…)

(Jane says: This was only the first glass so it was indeed an accident)

Speaking of seats, they supposedly fully reclined, but actually – not quite.  It was certainly better than coach, but it occupied our first hour of flight trying to figure out the controls.  Jane somehow found Chris’s experiments in seat adjustment amusing, because at one point Chris is sure she saw champagne coming out of Jane’s nose from laughing so hard.

(Jane says:  The seats are actually built for taller people and don’t quite fit those of smaller stature.  Chris began to push the button to recline the back of her seat and with each successive push, she kept fading lower and lower until her poor body was in a compacted heap on the lower third of the “chair”.  I couldn’t even begin to help her because she just kept slip sliding away and I couldn’t quit laughing, it was one of those ‘you had to be there’ moments.  Suffice it to say that all my societal aplomb went to hell as I was reduced to a fit of laughing hysteria.)