Spring 2012: Europe, Part 4 of 4

May 23-28

On May 23, four hours and twelve minutes after leaving Zurich the train pulled into the Paris’s Gare de Lyon at 9:37 p.m. We knew we had to take Metro No.1 to Concorde and then change to No.12 to get to Jules Joffrin our stop. But at Gare de Lyon, when we went first to the info booth and then the ticket booth, we could not make ourselves be understood by either of the attendants there. The second one’s attitude also seemed a bit haughty. One question we had was what kind of a ticket would be appropriate for us considering we were staying for five days in Paris and our plan was also to take the Metro to Charles de Gaulle airport on the 28th. We decided to move to yet another booth where an agent of African descent knew English and was also friendly. He explained that the ticket to the airport was not covered by the Metro ticket. He advised us to buy a twelve-ticket Metro pass, which we did and it served us well till the 27th. On the 28th, we decided to take the Roissy Bus to the airport leaving from the Opera House. To get here we had to take the Metro from Jules Joffrin, which cost us 1.70 euro each.

As mentioned before, on 23rd night, we stayed at Le Montclaire Hostel which though not the ideal place for us turned out to be a boon in some ways. For one thing, I had befriended the English-speaking staff at the front desk to whom I returned several times in the next few days I stayed in the neighborhood for various kinds of tourist info. Secondly, on 26th morning, as guests of the hostel we got a two-hour free guided walking tour of Mont Martre, the historic neighborhood.

On the 24th morning, right after an early breakfast at the hostel, I phoned Bernard the owner of our rented apartment across the street around 8:15 a.m. to inquire about when we could check in. The official time was 3 p.m. We were lucky that the previous guests had already left and Bernard said that we could check in at 9:30. I was elated. This gave us just enough time to pack our carryons and mosey over to our apartment building.

Bernard was a “sweetheart” and he met us at the door, showed us how to open the door by swiping the magnetic side of a small rubber pad on the key chain and then took us to our apartment with a view of the Sacre Coeur. Everything in the apartment was spic and span and the sunlight was pouring in from every direction. Because Rue de Hermel was a long narrow street, looking down from the 6th floor made the street look like a deep canyon and indeed it turned out to be an echo chamber. This prevented us from keeping the windows open at night even as the cool breeze was a welcome aspect. Ultimately, on the third night, we kept the main large window a crack open and we still slept just fine.

After Bernard gave us his W-Fi password, and explained a few other things, not that all that info got into our head, and left, we freshened up and left for Anvers station which is where the Hop-off-Hop-on tourist bus was to be boarded. We paid 31 euros each. I didn’t think we got our money’s worth, mainly because we started our tour late and some buses ended their route early and this was not clearly stated on the brochure. Nonetheless, without the bus, we could not have covered all the major spots in Paris, some of which we revisited on our own on the 27th.

Paris is a grand city steeped in history as we all know well. After covering the grand cathedral de Notre Dame, we had lunch (pizza and beer) at an Italian restaurant across from the Arc de Triomphe. The grand wide Champs-Elysees was teeming with people. It reminded me of Raj Path in Delhi flanked by the mighty India Gate and the imposing Raj Bhavan the president’s residence. Of course, either side of the Champs is stores and restaurants galore. On either side of Raj Path are massive pink government buildings and two boathouses. I don’t know its present status. My memories are from my childhood.

Followed by a long wait made bearable by people watching and observing other interesting phenomena such as the delivery man rushing in with a large bag spilling with baguettes, after lunch, we went to the Arc, circled around it and paid our respects to the tomb of the Unknown Soldier and hopped back on the bus at the next stop. Our next hop-off was the Eiffel Tower. We stood on line for a short while. The line crawled and we decided to skip going up the tower. While waiting, we were entertained by a guy in a funny mask sneaking up to passers by and starling them making the moment candid-camera worthy.

Eventually, missing the closing time at Rodin Museum, missing our last bus, we walked back from the Opera House to Jules Joffrin, referring to our map constantly, and checking with people along the way. One youngish-looking guy across from the famous Maxim’s Restaurant which is where we started our walk from apologized in halted English that he was not a Parisian but was from Brittany, nonetheless helped us with our map. As we walked, we experienced the lively Paris street life dominated by crowded and narrow sidewalk eating and drinking and chatters. Along the way saw free public toilets with a water faucet on the outside wall that dispensed potable water. The next day, I also discovered small fountains for this purpose like in Italy and Munich where running water dispensers were often shaped like an animal’s face.

On the way, we bought some cheese, bread, milk, fruits, mayo, soup, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, chips, wine, etc. and carrying the heavy load walked the rest of the short distance back home half-dead. Too much hunger led to overeating but soon we hit the bed and slept the sleep of the dead.

Next day, we hit the road by 9 a.m., and took the train to Versailles: http://en.chateauversailles.fr/the-palace- We booked an English guided tour for 28 euros which was well worth it. Our smart and sweet guide Agatha was well-informed and the palace was awe inspiring even as I kept hearing the chopping sound of the guillotine in my head. We learned from Agatha that on Friday’s the Louvre was probably open till nine at night. On our way back to the train station, we stopped by at the tourist office, and indeed the Louvre stayed open late that night. Bingo, not wanting to wait on line at the Louvre we paid a few extra bucks and bought our tickets at the tourist office. Later, we saw hardly any line at the Louvre. It was not peak tourist season yet I guess

After returning to Paris, and eating a quick lunch, we went to the Louvre around 4:30 and stayed there till 9:45, the closing time. The audio guide is a bit complicated but once you figure out how with help from the audio desk (again you have to be lucky to find someone who is comfortable with English). I discovered Hammurabi’s Code only at at closing time. I was not allowed to linger to take any picture of this pillar. Then again, in this day and age of YouTube, and other social media, a tourist can quite easily dispense with a camera. I have a feeling all these images are posted by the tourists from the Orient, whom I noticed, on many instances never turned off their video cameras. They simply walked along with camera in hand capturing the images continuously. I even saw an Indian do this. Apparently, one needs three years to cover the Louvre, at the rate of 3 seconds for each display 24/7.

I used my camera for Mona Lisa, Venus di Milo, Hermaphrodite: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borghese_Hermaphroditusand and the hall itself where this languishing figure is housed. http://theotherparis.net/hotspots/louvre2.htm and the wedding at Cana across from Mona Lisa. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wedding_at_Cana.

On our way back, we bought some pistachio ice cream and a couple of other items and had dinner at the apartment.

Next morning, we walked to Anvers, again, which is where we met Alex, our lanky cheerful articulate New Zealander Montmartre tour guide. There were quite a few of us in the group. Along the way, Alex invited even more folks to join in. His earnings depended upon the generosity of those in his tour.

It was quite an educational experience. www.aparisguide.com/montmartre/index.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montmartre. We covered the Sacre Coeur, the amazing view of Paris from the top, the statue of the martyr St. Denis and an accompanying miracle story, Le Bateau Lavoir: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_Bateau-Lavoir, the artists’ square, one of the two remaining windmills with a tragic story of its own: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moulin_de_la_Galette, the famous singer Dalida’s-- the Madonna of her day--tragic life story: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dalida as told by Alex in gripping detail enhanced by dramatic hand gestures, who later for ”good luck” rubbed the worn breasts on Dalida’s bronze bust. Apparently, once a year those breasts get re-polished. Sadly enough, she had brought only bad luck to the men in her life. Then, the house on Rue Lepic where Van Gogh lived which is now owned by a Japanese, the small ”celebrated” vineyard, the only one in Paris, Le Clos Montmartre that every October auctions off 1000 or so bottles of wine the money raised thus used for charity. Near this plot,on a wall is a "space invader's" tile. Alex declared that this phantom artist was not him. When Alex talked about Van Gogh’s failure after failure in life and finally his last words, “sadness will last forever,” Alex seemed to be on the verge of tears. The pain he felt for Van Gogh seemed much too personal.

It was close to lunch time but still on our way back to the apartment for lunch, we made a detour to Gare de Nord to get info on a day-trip to Strasbourg the next day. The station looked chaotic. It turned out we would have had to stand on line and speak to a DB attendant. I suggested to B to get going with his lunch while I procured the necessary info. Earlier, I had found out that all seats to Strasbourg were booked. I felt foolish not booking ours in New York. Had been too busy and also wanted to keep the option open. But because we had covered a lot in Paris already, now the temptation to take this 2-hour, near-free trip to Strasbourg was strong.

The second time around on the line, I was willing to take a day-trip in any direction. English speakers had to wait for an English-speaking attendant to be available. This was frustrating. Finally, when my turn came, a youngish Arab-looking man, maybe in his 30’s, who spoke no French and very little English, came up to the person at the counter behind the glass partition and began to almost wail. He was apparently at the wrong station and his train was scheduled to leave in the next half-hour. A second attendant assured him that she would help if he would wait. Up to a point, I was sympathetic to him but when he seemed to become willful, I had to get assertive and make my own business at hand a priority. Anyway, ultimately, no one-day trip worked out. I was told that this was a long weekend in France also and everybody was leaving Paris in all directions. Disappointed, I left and headed back home. Only on the next day, I realized that there was so much more to see in Paris and we took full advantage of this blessing in disguise.

After a slightly sub-standard lunch--the cuke pieces were diced rather than sliced (it was a rude revelation that B’s strength was not making sandwiches), climbing the 300 steps on Rue Foyatier, we returned to Dali Museum, located near the artists’ square, which was quite a treat. His anamorphic work where a nondescript drawing on a flat surface turns into an insect on a reflective cylindrical surface blew my mind away. Dali himself was fascinated with this phenomenon. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anamorphosis.

After enjoying some outdoor entertainment offered by musicians and trained dancers and tourists bursting into spontaneous dancing, we retired earlier than usual, returned home, and after dinner, tried planning the activities for the next day our last day in Paris. Next day, we covered Jardin du Luxembourg, where we were treated to fabulous drumming organized by an organization devoted to autistic children (some of the young drummers themselves seemed to be autistic) and music by a big band, the Latin Quarters, an interesting Antiques Show, The Sarbonne (on my resume I plan to say that I've been to Sarbonne:)), The Pantheon just from the outside (a tourist behind me told his wife--partner--that they should go back to their hotel room and read all about it), the Bastille, a long stroll along the Seine, a boat ride on the Seine, Jardine des Tuileries attached to the Louvre, the Revolutionary Square for the 2nd time, the and then as it got cooler, strolled down the Champs Elysees up to the Arc, sat there for a while watching the multitude and then returned home.

Next day, we checked out at 11:00 a.m. and were on our way back to New York.

The following weekend, I found out that as part of the New York State’s Museum Week promo, we could visit certain places right in New York for free. On Saturday, we took in the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens and the Brooklyn Museum two must see places in our own backyard.

When I stepped out at Penn Station which I have done thousands of times before I tried to figure out what about New York enchants outsiders (so many people, including Agatha at Versailles are “wowed” by New York) and what struck me most was New York’s sizzle. Next time, you’re in the city, check out those eye-popping electronic billboards.

Ciao for now!