Around the World: La Tour Eiffel

April 27, 1992

Today, Jane and I walked from our hotel to the Eiffel Tower.  It's a long walk, but the vendors along the Seine all had something wonderful to look at, jewelry, paintings and trinkity knick knacks.  Whenever we tired of walking, we found a quiet spot to set up a little picnic and once contentedly fed and refreshed, we continued on again.

The Champs du Mars that lead to the Eiffel Tower makes a perfect picnic place to finish all the food and drink we were carrying with us. We climbed the stairs to the second tier to make the elevator ride less expensive and caught the elevator to the top.

The view is magnificent.  The Seine meanders through the city, and under bridges as it divides Paris. Streets create pie shaped wedges that meet at five point intersections.  Trees and parks pepper the grey stone of buildings.  Paris is so easy on the soul, as lovely to look at as it is to be in.

We took our time walking back to the hotel, stopping for a few bottles of wine and some easier-to-eat-than-a-can-of-beans snacks along the way.  Sitting by the window, we spend the evening savouring the tapestry of Paris with some food, music and wine.  Our last days in Paris will be spent visiting the nearby shops and markets as today's walk has pretty much finished our feet.

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"Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time."
~Steven Wright

Around the World: Pere Lachaise

April 26, 1992

Jane and I are off to explore Pere Lachaise cemetery, where several famous people are buried.  I've heard many stories of people becoming lost amongst the tombstones.  In my head, I picture a typical graveyard, orderly plots, row on row, as it were.  I can't imagine how someone could get disoriented in a cemetery.

... and then I walked inside.

As we make our way toward the grave of Jim Morrison, I quickly realize how easy it is to get lost. Following the cobblestone streets between towering tombs is like walking through a city of the dead.

but the neighbours are really quiet.

Over 1 million bodies are buried in the 110 acre cemetery, among them, Oscar Wilde, Georges Bizet, and Frederic Chopin. Many of the tombs are several feet high and merge together like a wall.  Spray painted across the tombs are directions to the cemetery's most popular resident.

the directions are thoughtful, but the method is in poor taste.

When we finally find the grave of Jim Morrison, it is surrounded by a small crowd of people singing songs by The Doors and playing guitars, others light candles and the smell of pot is thick in the air.  Jane and I make ourselves comfortable on a nearby stone and share some of the wine we brought with us.

music and munchies

We continue to walk along the paths between the tombs and found the resting place of Oscar Wilde.  It is tradition to mark the monument over his grave with a red lip print. His tomb is covered in kisses.

We also found the graves of Chopin, and a small gravestone with the name Bugatti. It's a bit of a mystery which of the famous performance car designer family is buried here, as Ettore and his son Jean are both interred in Alsace.

After several hours of exploring, Jane and I come to the unanimous conclusion that we are hopelessly lost. Approaching us is a small group of older women, one of which has a map.  In my best french, I approach her and announce, "J'ai perdu."

In french, I understand her response as, "You poor girl," and she does her best to show me where we are and how to get to the entrance.

Jane and I make our way back to our hotel and enjoy the rest of our wine.  I have rigged the luggage rack to support a can of beans that Jane is heating up over a candle. 

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"No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn."

~Jim Morrison

Around the World: Paris Encore

April 24, 1992

Neither Jane nor I felt safe staying in the hostel last night.  After speaking with the hostel staff about the theft, they were sympathetic, but unable to help.  This kind of thing, unfortunately, happens frequently.  When I asked to cancel our reservations for the night, they apologetically returned the fee for our beds.  Fate was also kind enough to have a train bound for Paris leaving just shortly after we arrived at the station.  We pulled into Gare du Nord in Paris just after 5a.m. this morning.

Gare du Nord, Paris
Photo courtesy Wikipedia Creative Commons

As the train approached the border, there was no shortage of drug sniffing canines doing a thorough search of the train.  I'm not sure what the penalty is for trying to smuggle drugs out of the Netherlands, but I'm sure it's less than pleasant.  Much like Thailand, help yourself while you visit, but leave it behind when you go.

Exhausted, Jane sits with our bags at the station in Paris while I search the surrounding streets for a place to stay.  Just around the corner from the station is a small inn, l'Hotel du Champagne.  The guy at the front desk says the nightly rate for a double room is 300 francs ($60 CND). It's a little more than my budget allows, but I'm tired and in need of a little personal pampering.  I return to the station for Jane to show her our home for the next few days.

The lobby has a vending machine stocked with beer.  None of that juice, water or cola crap.  Just beer.  We drag our tired selves and the backpacks up the winding marble staircase to our third floor room.  The room has a shower, two very comfortable beds and french doors that open to a narrow balcony overlooking the station and the traffic jammed intersections of Paris.

Did I mention the beds?

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"No day is so bad it can't be fixed with a nap."

~Carrie Snow