France June 2006 - Paris
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To err is human. To loaf is Parisian.-Victor Hugo The American in Paris is the best American. -F. Scott Fitzgerald You know what they call a quarter pounder with cheese in Paris? They got the metric system. They wouldn't know what the fuck a quarter pounder is. They call it "royale with cheese." - Pulp Fiction |
After the plane landed, we headed to Montmartre in Paris to make appreciative use of Mr. Pinault's cousin's shower, then wandered around the hilly, tourist-friendly neighborhood (those aren't Parisians in the background... it was easy to spot the tourists mingling among the couth Parisians. I liked playing "pick out the Americans." They were the ones eating dinner at the brasseries at 6pm, wearing their most fashionable sensible shoes while gawking at everything).
A tour of the famed Pere-Lachaise cemetery seemed an untaxing and apropos activity to deal with first-day jet lag. Here is its most famed grave, that of Jim Morrison. I had to jostle through a solemn crowd of teenagers to take the picture.
The main attraction for me at Pere-Lachaise was Oscar Wilde's grave. It made me giddy.
When good Americans die they go to Paris. - Oscar Wilde
America is my country and Paris is my hometown. - Gertrude Stein
Outside of Paris, there is no hope for the cultured. - Moli¸re
Despite what this photo suggests, no pastries were consumed. But that night we feasted on foie gras, fine wine and cantaloupe in ritzy Neuilly at the home of Mr. Pinault's college friend, who graciously put us up for two nights.
Day two: Notre Dame, and the only photographic proof I have of a Parisian blue sky. The weather was pleasant but consistently gray, ruining most of the other photos of Paris landmarks.
At the Louvre - "As seen in The Da Vinci Code!"
We didn't tour the Louvre, but still found ways to appreciate art.
The Eiffel Tower impressed me more than I expected. It's the most highly-touted landmark in France and possibly all of Europe, but hasn't the base human instinct to marvel over big things been made archaic by, say, space travel and DNA mapping? As we approached the tower, I was unimpressed and nursing resentment for this sightseeing chore. We took the stairs to the second platform, which induced serious vertigo for about ten minutes. I was obsessing that I'd pass out.
But all my idiosyncratic phobias melted when I took in the Eiffel Tower's view and realized what I was looking at: A masterpiece of urban engineering, laced with treasured symbols of the best Western Civilization has to offer. A social center, a political capital, a financial hub, a haven for artists and thinkers. Resolute, unchanging, Paris: A city of gaiety, city of spectacle, city of revolution, city of light.
On day three, we took a train to Versailles. With a 90 minute line to enter the palace, is it little wonder we opted to tour the grounds instead?
Rowing in the vast Versailles canal.
Why aren't we moving?
Leaving Paris for Strasbourg...