Diane and Jerry in France--the Paris Days

Thursday night. 

 

Part of the joy of being here is seeing the expressions on the faces of friends when they encounter something for the first time--a subway ride, pain au chocolat, the Eiffel Tower.  For all their friends back home, I offer a little album of my two dear friends....

We ran into a couple from Seattle, and other couples from all over the world.  As a singleton, I always worry that couples will have no photograph of the two of them, since a third person is required to take the photo.  So, I offer, often and to almost everyone I see.  

The Apartment in Paris

The red patch between Diane and Jerry is their room.

The kitchen, in which we spent very little time, other than to make coffee

Charlotte's room

 

Front door of the building.  Don't you think Diane looks taller in this photo?

After getting settled in at the apartment, it was time to run the streets. The apartment was very cozy and it's nice that we were friends before and we still are (I think.)  It would be a great place for one person.  If you are not related, you need to be good friends if more than two of you stay here.

 Running the Streets

At the foot of Sacre Coeur

The city of Paris had a long exhibit of posters and photos detailing the black experience in Paris from the 1700's up to modern day.  You can see them (the posters, not the blacks) affixed to the fence along the street.

Diane and the funicular

Montmartre is the village of steps.  Lots and lots of steps. In one of the steeper, longer stretches of steps, the Paris city fathers installed a funicular to take people from the bottom to the top and back.  Good thing, because when faced with them, one of us said, "I'm not walking those." 

Jerry and the funicular

I think this is a nice photo of Jerry.  There was a French woman who was also quite taken with him and I had to set her straight. I introduced his wife and then told this gal that he had two women.

Rescue Me

There are people everywhere in Paris either begging or asking for money for some cause.  Some, like the rose vendor who accosted us at dinner on Thursday night are rather aggressive.  I sometimes drop in a coin, but poor Jerry got waylaid by some girls who wanted a signature and money for the support of deaf/mute persons. He offered them some, but they refused because it wasn't enough!!! They were pretty much at ALL of the tourist spots, and nabbed him as he exited the funicular, still jet-lagged and travel buzzed.  We turned little miss red-stripes back, and Diane extricated Jerry.

A pensive moment.  There was a harpist playing and all of Paris is spread out at your feet at this point. It's very compelling.

We grabbed a lunch of street food--crepes, and found a bench by the carousel.  They look light, but a crepe with cheese, or ham and cheese is a  substantial lunch.  I am not sure if it's the crepe or the after-effects of the 300 steps to the top of Sacre Coeur that has Jerry looking unsettled.

Lots of time on the subway---this is the #4, I think, or the #1--I can't tell from the photo.  Interestingly enough, the warnings to "Mind the Gap" are now given in French, English and German, and on the bigger lines (#1) also in Japanese, Chinese and Spanish.  

On Saturday, we went to Gare du Nord to buy our tickets back to Carcassonne and also to scope out where the Moffits will go when they arrive in Paris, where they will catch the Eurostar to London.  

A tiny, tiny police car

After our business at the Gare du Nord, we made our way down to the Cite.  I love coming out of the mouth of the subway there-the flower market, on Sunday, it's the bird market.  On this day, there was a car exhibition---old taxis and police cars.  This little black and white number was something else!

Everywhere in Paris, buildings and shops are getting dressed for Christmas.  Notre Dame is celebrating its 850th year.  Pretty impressive.  The Christmas tree is up and workers were putting on the decorations.  Scaffolding took up a great deal of the square in front of the cathedral, which herded the tourists into a relatively small area. It made it seem much more crowded than it actually was.

The wire mesh bridges across the Seine are covered in padlocks, thousands of them. The tradition is to write the names of the lovers on the locks, lock them onto the bridge and then toss the keys into the water of the Seine.  Jerry and Diane demurred when it came to buying a padlock, but I was able to convince them to--well, you see.

I have very seldom, in all the years I have known Jerry, seen him flustered.  But his reaction to the Louvre can only be described as "poleaxed." 

Even here, he still looks shell-shocked.

For me, the Arc de Triomphe was almost a waste of time and energy.  Maybe it was just too late in the day for me, but it was crowded and had that summer tourist-clog feel.  And the Champs Elysees--well, technically we were there, but I have seen it look better.  Maybe it was just that my energy was pretty well depleted by then.  Jerry and Diane still look ready to tackle anything, though.

Yes, I was the ubiquitous tourist, but I hope I wasn't a typical tourist.

Relief at getting on the train with 4 minutes to spare.  Now we are on the way to Carcassonne.