Our first weekend in Paris

September 22 – 23

We left the Radisson around 10:30 on Saturday morning. We had a great ride in a black cab.  As we were passing the Albert Memorial and the Albert Hall, he noticed and then talked non-stop until we got to the train station.

It was very interesting to hear how the cabbies suffered during the Olympics.  It seems everyone who bought a ticket to an event was given an Oyster card for the tube and there were 25,000 BMWs driven by volunteers to escort athletes and dignitaries around. He said even the hotels suffered as, while they were full, people weren’t eating and drinking at the hotels.  He said, then Ramadan came and the Arabs (the ones with the real money) stopped eating and drinking during the day, so the hotels were just getting back to normal.

We arrived at the train station by 11 and our train only left at 12:25.  We had a late breakfast and people watched before heading to the Eurostar.  We were really caught off guard as we had to go through security just like at the airport. The difference, however, was that we had our suitcases and they had to lifted up onto the conveyor belt to go through screening just like purses!  I am way too short and old to be hefting a 22 kg suitcase up a metre!  We then had to wait to board as they only board 20 minutes before departure.

We lucked out, however, as we were in coach 4 and there was a ramp to coaches 1-4 and so we were the first ones on. We had reserved seats, but had to put the suitcases in racks in the vestibule – more lifting. We figured out by then that we should work together when lifting and that made it easier.

The train ride was very enjoyable, but went so fast that our ears kept popping.  We were 16 minutes travelling under the English Channel, 300 metres below the seabed!  April was a little verkempt  about being under the Channel, so I took a picture of her putting on a brave face!

We arrived at Gare du Nord and got our welcome to Paris traffic. Ooh la la!  Cars going every which way, no apparent order of operations, cyclists pulling out in front of the cars and then sauntering along (no helmets) just knowing no one would hit them!

We found the apartment without too much trouble. The owner wasn’t able to meet us as she had to mind her grand-daughters as her daughter, a doctor, had to make a trip to Libya.  Her housekeeper met us and showed us in. The elevator was typical – can barely hold one person and one suitcase!

The building is old, 18^th century, and has exposed beam ceilings (and walls on the landings and stairs). It’s tres petite. The “kitchen” is actually in a closet, about .5 metre wide and 1 metre deep.  The coffee maker is an espresso one which we can’t make head or tail of.

We are right on a main boulevard, which is good and bad. There are cafes below and beside and across from us, and the metro station is a block away. However, Saturday night in Paris means the party starts around 10 PM and keeps going until 6 AM! Boom boom boom goes the bass of the dance music.  The windows are good and keep out most of it, but you know it’s there!

After scouting around the apartment, we walked to the tourist and convention centre and picked up out Paris passes for the museums and the metro.  We were going to have a quick bite at the Café de la Paix in front of the Opera House, but it was unbelievably noisy.  Something was up, though we never learned what, as there were police everywhere, some in riot gear with shields, sirens blaring, and probably a dozen paddy wagons parked along Blvd. des Capuchins! All looking very nonchalant with Kevlar, shields, cigarettes and cellphones!

After looking at the menu at Café de la Paix and seeing they wanted 25€ for a hamburger (~$35), we decided to head down Blvd. des Capuchins and find something quieter and less expensive.  We went down a side street and found the George VII square, with a bar called Bertie’s.  We carried on and went into Le Creperie des Artistes, a little hole in the wall with pictures of French actors, none of whom we recognized.  We ordered crepes and a half bottle of wine and then slowly walked all the way back to the apartment.

We eased into the day on Sunday, going down to the café next door for an “English” breakfast around 11. For breakfast, we were given a wineglass of orange juice and half a toasted baguette with lots of butter and jam. This was followed by a delicious omelet and coffee.

Afterwards we headed back to the apartment to plan the day.  Our goal was to take the metro to Montmartre.  As we headed toward the metro station, we could hear what seemed to be a parade. We kept walking until we saw them.  There was a Brazilian festival going on and there were hundreds of drummers and dancers parading down the street.  We watched the entire parade and the people who joined in on the dancing, though I couldn’t convince April to dance down the street.

We then made it to the metro and headed to Montmartre.  Leaving Abbesses metro station, there is a warning that there are lots of stairs to climb – 115 in fact! We made it, but had to rest a few times on the way up, though we weren’t the only ones to stop and catch our breath!  When we got to the top, there was an elevator, disgorging crowds of much smarter travelers!

We walked through the side streets and then took the funicular up to the Basilica of Sacre Coeur. We strolled around and looked at the paintings in Place de Tetre.  April wanted to get a picture for their new place and settled on a small pen and ink sketch.  Here she is with the artist.

We went back down the funicular, had a drink and pommes frites at a corner café. April (who can never pass up a trip to a toilet), ran into her first (and hopefully last) squat toilet.  Back to the metro station (going down 115 stairs is so much easier than going up), and back home for a rest.  We’ll probably head down toward Notre Dame this evening.

Tomorrow – the Louvre!