Nothing to do

Yesterday was the museum trip and tomorrow we will spend the day at Mount Montmartre, so today was to be a down day. De Anne has a bit of a cold - no doubt from sharing germs on packed subways , buses, and trains. I went to the grocery this morning while she rested.

This afternoon she was feeling better, the sun came out, and we decided on a short stroll around the Bastille circle. Under normal conditions maybe 15 to 20 minutes. We got back to the flat three and a half hours later.

As we exited the courtyard to the street I noticed three policemen on the sidewalk. This is a bit strange on our one lane, quiet side street. At the corner were two policemen in riot gear. One was about 6'6" and the other maybe two inches shorter. Riot gear looks like a cross between a knight's armor and football pads. Continuing down the street we came across a chanting group of a couple dozen protesters. Another group of riot gear equipped police were casually studying the demonstration.

Strolling to the other side of the circle we passed the fire department set up with a tent and a police mobile command van. Also on that side was another small protest going on. 

Just to add to the confusion a stage had been set up in another quadrant of the circle and techno music at just ear-splitting levels was pounding away.

We stood on a corner and suddenly got our first clue as to the coming festivities.

Suddenly we noticed the circle - always in bumper car mode - was empty.

Six large police vans appeared and more riot gear police emerged.

Finally all was clear. It was a gay parade and the end of the parade and a party was happening on the Bastille circle. I urged De Anne across the street to the monument itself. That crossing would be suicide any other time. 

The parade reaches us.

People watching was even better than usual.

Back in the peace and quiet of our flat we had a glass of wine and some dinner. We agreed we just had to see how the evening was progressing and so ventured back out about 7:30pm. Things were not quite as attractive as earlier. The streets were trashed and so were the folks. Wine is the drink of choice on Paris streets and the amount of broken glass proved it. The Gendarmes were looking a little tired too, so we made the circuit a quick trip and retreated leaving the streets to the young Parisians.

Les Invalides

Built by King Louis XIV as a veteran's hospital this huge structure of attached buildings is now one of the largest military museums in the world.

We started at Napoleon's tomb then moved to WWI and WWII wings. Hitler visited this museum to learn as much as possible about Napoleon; however, it seems he missed the important message: stay out of Russia in the winter.

The gold dome is over the tomb of Napoleon.

Crypt at the bottom of the picture.

WWI tank.

Dispatching two world wars brought us to lunch time. In the museum cafeteria we turned and fled in horror from the hordes of children. In search of food we left the museum and found a couple cafes across the street. Noting the €29.00 "lunch special" we pressed on, finally discovering a quaint little sandwich shop tucked away. Restocked and refreshed we returned to the museum to tackle the 1600's.

The amount of arms and armor on display is truly mind boggling. The number of matchlock, wheel lock , and flintlock guns on display is staggering. Just to wag in our faces, at the end of this seeming endless collection was a hall of small windows where we could see the vast storeroom holding far more items than on display. We (rather I) staggered out to the parade grounds took a break and acknowledged my Waterloo. I was not able to visit the other half of the museum.

Versailles

Today we toured the old world epitome of conspicuous consumption - the Palace of Versailles. Once a hunting lodge, but added on to until King Louis XIV had room for his court and 5,000 of his closest friends ( plus servants for everyone). 

 

I will not bore you with pictures that you can easily find on Google; however, here are a few unusual pictures of maintenance.

Installing what looked like a refurbished statue. In the crate behind the ladder.

Ever wonder how the shrubs got those strange shapes? First a rough cut then the manicure scissors.

A donut burger? The French are so decadent.......

Avenue des Champs-Élysées

A heavy overcast did not discourage us from walking the entire length of this fabled avenue. We took our first subway ride on the Paris Metro from the Bastille station to the Arc De Triomphe. 

A thoughtful government has installed an underground tunnel across the circle for the safety of tourists.  The circle, fed by 12 streets, is so dangerous and accident-prone that auto insurance companies have a special rule for the circle. All car accidents on the circle are automatically charged as a 50/50 fault.

The monument is a grand sight. Probably even better with blue skies.

We walked the entire length of Champs-Élysées, did some window shopping, and congratulated ourselves for buying me a new belt yesterday in the market for €8.00 after seeing one in a store window for €1,850.00. I cannot imagine what it was made of; however, I was not about to go into the store. If I bumped into anything I would be financially ruined for life.

Sometimes I wonder what they were thinking. Something may have gotten lost in the translation.

Passing the Obelisk of Luxor, looted from Egypt before it was considered looting, the other end of the Avenue is anchored by the Tuileries Garden.

To my relief (and my feet) the benevolent socialist government has placed lawn chairs around the pond allowing me to indolently take pictures while sitting. Notice it starting to clear.

We dined at the McDonalds next to Louvre again for two reasons. De Anne remembered it was hot inside before and having become chilled during our long walk, looked forward to warming up, and second, every place along the Champs-Élysées thoughtfully placed a menu at the door so that riff-raff like us would not embarrass ourselves by entering - looking at the menu, then fleeing.

Being the old pro in my second week in Paris I held a mini-seminar in the crowded McDonalds line for some Americans just arrived and clueless. Things like: "That woman takes your order, that one just fills it", and "Go ahead and ask for French fries, they know what they are", and "Don't worry they all speak English".

I suggested we continue walking back to the Bastille and save the two bus tickets. Brave talk on my part, accompanied by a slight smile from De Anne. When we arrived at a bus stop next to Louvre and saw our bus waiting I called it the hand of fate and insisted we must board. 

Europe on the cheap

Europe and especially Paris is expensive, unless you do your homework. We have found that "going local" is the best way to stretch your dollars. 

It all starts with the French minimum wage - equivalent to US $22,000 annually. That means the daily lunch special at a cafe can run between €14-20 (a €uro equals $1.30). That is before beverage and service fee. This week we have had two expresso (€4), while escaping a rain shower and a €16 meal at the McDonalds near the Louvre. All other meals we have made in the kitchenette of our flat. Last night, for example, our dinner for two - including wine, cost about €4.

De Anne has located all the free attractions such as the Victor Hugo home a few blocks away. Hugo liked to write standing. Note the high desk on the left in his bedroom.

Hugo dining room. Painting of the hunchback of Notre Dame at left.

Our studio flat is small by American standards, but comfortable and well equipped. Renting by the month brings the price down to under $50 per night. Most importantly it is within walking distance of much of the old city and a block from main bus routes and a major Metro hub. Buying tickets in books of ten saves half the single ticket price, making a ride €1.

The canal St-Martin disappears into a long tunnel under the streets of Paris at the Bastille monument. In the picture below is the mouth of the tunnel with the subway across it, and the monument in the background. The white tents are for a 10K race scheduled this Sunday. 

Besides watching the race Sunday we will go to the local farmers market in the park across the street for cheap fruit and vegetables. I will pass on the meats having learned my lesson in Panama two years ago about street vendor meat. It does not pay to go cheap on some things.

Random thoughts and random pictures

A week is very little time to form true impressions, but I will forge ahead regardless.

Not one French person has been rude to us. In fact, a good percent speak some English and are quite helpful.

Orientals can not stand not touching sculptures in the Louvre or taking flash pictures in Notre Dame, even during a Mass. Signs prohibiting these activities are in many languages including a couple I presumed to be Japanese and Chinese. Guards were kept busy.

I always liked croissants in America. I never knew how good a croissant could be before the little pastry shop around the corner opened Tuesday.

I am now a conspiracy theorist. The French keep all the good wine in France and ship the bad stuff to the USA - and mark it up. De Anne bought some even cheaper wine today. I can not imagine covering the cost of the cork and bottle, let alone putting good wine inside for €1.60 (about $2.00).

I have been in a number of cities and the only one even close to "strollable" is Seattle. Going for a stroll in Paris is sheer delight.

A stroll along the Seine.

The Bastille Monument a block from our flat. About ten streets feed into this circle. Thank goodness for walk lights. 

Looking toward our street. We are just past the McDonalds (1,000 in France). Lucky us that we face an inner courtyard and not the street. Note the rental bikes. Insert your coins and take a bike. Return it at any other stand in the city. cars on the right, buses and bikes use the left lane.

Our stroll down the canal St-Martin. There is a lock to lower boats 5-6 feet into the Seine. Sailors will note the lee boards on this 60 foot boat. The white cover at the bow hides the massive manual winch that lowers and raises the masts for passage under bridges.

Walking through Paris

On the bus Monday afternoon we chatted with a couple from West Palm Beach who were in Paris for five days. They indicated how tired they were from racing around trying to see everything. When we got off the bus we congratulated ourselves for having a month to take it slow and see the sights at a leisurely pace.

So, with that in mind, on Tuesday we proceeded to whip through on foot to the IIe St-Louis and IIe De Citie - the two islands in the Seine that were the original settlement of Paris. We walked both islands end to end, toured Notre Dame, and visited the French holocaust memorial. We got back to the flat where I promptly fell asleep on the couch for an hour. Waking up I found De Anne chomping at the bit to press the shoe leather again. We strolled down a near-by canal lined with river boats, then cut over to a former elevated train line converted into a walk way with gardens on both sides. 

At 8:00am Wednesday morning we caught the bus to the Louvre. It has 12 miles of halls and I truly believe we traveled half of them. 

Arriving back at the flat I was exhausted, but knew De Anne was not, so I sent her to the market for more cheap wine. Luck was with me when it started to rain soon after her return. I don't have to walk any where else today.

Notre Dame.

A water fountain on the island. Cups use to hang from it, but now you put your water bottle under the constant trickle inside the center of the fountain.

Holocaust memorial. Each lighted crystal represents a French deportee who never returned.

At the Louvre:

The family jewels.... If you are the king of France.

My favorite statues.

No title needed. Lots of guards.

My favorite thing in the entire museum. The code of Hammurabi. First record of contract law, liability, and property law.

As we left people were still streaming in.

One final note that De Anne insisted I share. Several painters were scattered through the Louvre re-creating old masterpieces while closely studying the originals. I don't know why; however, one woman turned to scan the crowd watching her and walked up to me and offered me a small bottle of paint. Through sign language I realized the top was stuck and she wanted me to open it. A proud moment, even as an old man, to be singled out by a stranger as the right man for the job.

Tourists on the loose

De Anne decided we had to try out a couple of bus lines we would be using during our month in Paris, so we walked to Gard De Lyon train station to buy the budget book of bus/subway tickets. Thus armed we boarded the 83 bus which took off while I was still trying to remove the plastic wrapper from the ticket book. De Anne tracked our progress while I was just along for the ride.

Obediently, I exited the bus on her command and followed her across a couple streets. She stopped suddenly, said "brace yourself", took a couple more steps and my confusion disappeared. This was the sight I saw:

We walked through the plaza, down a long set of steps into a fountain area :

Looking back after walking down the fountain plaza the big water jets came on:

We crossed the Seine and wandered under the Eiffel Tower and along the promenade. 

Back to business - De Anne located the stop for our return bus, the 69. I had to get this picture which is the most photogenic bus stop I have ever seen:

Upon our return to our apartment we walked to market to stock the larder for a few days. French bread (cheap because it is subsidized by the government), cheese, pesto, and wine were a few of the necessities. Ever the cheapskates, we bought a couple bottles of wine for €1.77. I have a glass in front of me as I write this and it is surprisingly good!

The one discordant note of the day is that all pastry shops close Sunday afternoon and all day on Monday. We WILL hit it hard tomorrow.

On to Paris

We left the villa at 9:00am to catch the local bus to Sorrento. From there we took the intercity train to Naples. Hanging out at the Naples terminal waiting for the Rome train I stepped outside for a smoke. I was approached by a local trying to sell me a lighter. When I refused one of his friends came over and they both demanded cigarettes. I refused and they pressed in glaring at me. I waved the back of my hand at them and told them to get lost. They did. Italian thugs are not nearly as intimidating as their American counterparts.

On the way to Rome:

Through a complex series of events De Anne and I possessed six train tickets from Naples to Rome. Our 2 original 2nd class tickets and 4 1st class tickets. Of course we used two 1st class tickets and it was a relaxed, comfortable trip. With a few hours to kill before the night train to Paris we decided to linger in a very nice Rome restaurant for a couple hours.

Meanwhile, forces were brewing to make the next leg of the journey a little less than ideal. Our train left two hours late - where was Mussolini when we needed him? With some trouble we found our sleeper car for six and were relieved when a nice French couple joined us. The relief vanished quickly when a Jamician couple entered with their four-year-old. The father promptly informed me our luggage was too big, the mother had a bad cold and no tissues, and the child did his best imitation of an entire Indian tribe on the warpath.

De Anne and I claimed the top two bunks abandoning the French couple to their fate below. Since the whole cabin was six by eight our escape was measured in inches. At 5:00am, after answering the call of nature, I remained in the two foot wide hallway watching the dawn arrive. The carriage conductor, a plump French lady, was less than pleased at having to pass me several times. It was an intimate experience every time. Karma was served when at the Paris station I observed the happy family surrounded by 4 police officers. I assumed one was for the parents and the other three to control the four-year-old.

Life was good again when after a nice stroll from the Paris station our host came running up before we even reached the door and exclaimed "You are Merrick! Yes?". He lead us through the huge double doors to a courtyard and up one flight to our apartment. He then took us on a walking tour of the neighborhood.

Looking out our window:

To sea.....again

We took to sea again yesterday. This time around the point of the peninsula to view the Amalfi coast looking up from a boat instead of down from a bus.

De Anne leading me down to the marina:

Toni, our captain for the day, was docked and waiting for us. Since this was a longer trip this boat was much faster than last week's boat. Below we have rounded the point and a Roman watchtower is next to a new lighthouse.

We landed in the town of Amalfi just in time for lunch. De Anne ordered one of everything in the seafood department.

We wandered through town like the tourists that we are noting that every small town devotes massive effort into their churches

We returned, passing close to the town of Positano - noted in an area of steep hills - as a town with only two directions, up and down.

Just so no one thinks all is perfection I must relate this morning's trip to town. One of the senior members of our entourage required something from the pharmacy. Because parking in town varies from impossible to nonexistent I rode shotgun to leap out and make the purchases. 

After returning I was quizzed as to how I communicated the medical need. I related my charade with the pharmacist which was quickly dubbed "the enema dance". Actually, the request for stool softener was a bit harder to convey. Hopefully none of the other customers has a You-tube account.