Aug 17, 2008

Paris, the city of lights, the city of love, the city of the euro






"Deux croissant, sil' vous plait". "Deux?" replied the young french woman behind the bakery counter.

"Oui", I replied. She proceeded to pick out two scrumptious looking croissants and wrapped them for me. I held out my hand full of euros and she picked through the coins taking what she needed. "American?" she inquired. "Oui", I replied. She gave me a knowing smile and said "au revoir". And thus ends my lesson in what little french that I had picked up on my first day in Paris.

While I do not consider myself a math whiz by any stretch, I do pride myself on my monetary counting abilities. I've been doing it for quite some time and have grown comfortable in my skin in this respect. The British pound and the euro (to a lesser extent) changed all this. Trying to figure out which combinations of denominations to use, I found that paper currency was my best bet when paying for a souvenir or dinner or admission to a palace, although the coin I accumulated in change slowly filled my carry-on bag.
Kim and I arrived by train into Gare de' Nord station on a beautiful Monday morning after a comfortable 2 hour ride from London through beautiful British and French countryside. I still find it amazing that these two countries agreed to, and then built the channel tunnel. I was thankful too since we didn't have to go through airport hell - train station hell is more to my liking. We headed straight for the Paris Metro, bought a couple of four-day passes and headed straight to our hotel, the Appart City.
Located northeast of the heart of Paris across from the Ourcq metro station, we were pleasantly surprised to find a tidy room with a kitchenette and an in-room bathroom! After the "suite" in London, in-room plumbing was a must. No waiting in the hallway for your turn, only to find strange pubes covering the tub and a wet floor.
We spent our first day at Notre Dame. The rain was falling as we exited the underground metro and emerged above ground to a traffic jam and hoards of tourists (damned tourists). After making our way past beautiful structures (Prefecture de Police, Palais de Justice, Hôtel-Dieu hospital and Tribunal de Commerce, we arrived at the magnificent chapel just as the rain subsided. We fell in line and I began snapping photos while we awaited entry. The church is beyond description and has served it's congregations throughout the ages. The exterior is adorned with carvings depicting the life of Christ, the saints and Kings throughout the history of Christianity. Entering the church, you are struck with what the architects clearly had in mind: a sense of awe and the might of God. When asked by my brother Gary to describe it I could only reply "you gotta see it". Kim and I decided to pay an extra few euros to visit one of the many naves and see one of the pope's garbs, as well as other historical relics. It turned out to be our lucky day. While asking the ticket guy about a certain artifact I noticed a smallish woman standing next to him. He referred our question to her, who turned out to be a church member that gave tours to special groups. Since her group had failed to arrive she agreed to take us on a "behind the scenes" tour and proceeded to escort us behind the velvet ropes to the inner chapel. There, she gave us a history lesson and reminded us of the great historical figures who sat in the very pews where we sat. She guided us past the rest of the tourists behind a gate and described to us the fabulous wall carvings that adorned the center of the chapel. She asked us to sit in the row of seats which had serve as the seats for some of the Knights Templar's. Inspired and humbled, I lit a candle for Ruth E. and we thanked the lady with a 20 Euro donation and headed for the door.

Outside the church, on the western part of the plaza sits a statue of the legendary Charlemagne astride a noble horse. I snapped a couple of pictures here and it dawned on me that this was not the Kid Charlemagne made famous by Steely Dan, but was in fact the real deal.

Exiting the plaza, Kim and I made our way to the Seine across Pont Neuf to the infamous left bank. Pont Neuf, the name ironically meaning "new bridge", is the oldest standing bridge across the Seine in Paris. Construction began in 1578 under the rule of King Henri III and was officially opened in 1607 by King Henri IV. The thing that set it apart from other bridges of the time was that it contained no houses on it's span. The bridge crossing deposited us onto the Quai de Conti where we strolled along the river and took in the beauty of the houseboats and gardens of the area. Getting late now so we headed to the nearest Metro at Saint Michel and headed back to the hotel and a lovely french meal. A glorious first day in Paris behind us, we settled in for a well-deserved rest.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Great work.