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Arc de Triomphe. Champs-Élysées. Notre Dame. The Louvre.
The famous names just seem to roll off the tongue, French
accent included. And I was able to visit all of them in a single day. (Well, I
didn’t go inside the Louvre, I just stood outside and watched everyone filing
in through the glass pyramid entrance.)
Our hotel breakfast that morning was the best from the
entire trip. The French certainly know how to cook – and especially how to
bake. There was bread, croissants, chocolate croissants, and an assortment of
other pastries and delicious food. Many of us smuggled out pieces of bread and
cheese, and some croissants, to eat as snacks during the day. It was superb. I
may or may not have a small croissant addiction now.
That morning, we took a group photo with the Eiffel tower in
the background, before moving on to French perfumery Fragonard. We were given a
tour of the place, learnt about the creation of perfumes, and were taken to the
Fragonard shop to sample and purchase their perfumes at a discounted rate.
And then, as we left Fragonard to be dropped off at the Arc
de Triomphe for our free time in Paris ,
the rain started.
The weather has been deeply uncooperative for our European
summer adventure. Apart from gorgeous weather in Germany , it has either rained or
been extremely hot and humid. Of course it’s out of our control and rain
doesn’t stop anyone from adventuring around a city, but it makes everything so
much more miserable.
I walked down the Champs-Élysées from the Arc, stopping at
Laduree’s for some macaroons and at Pomme du Pain for a cheese baguette. Both
of these foods were amazing. As I kept walking towards the Louvre, eating my
baguette as I walked, a street cleaner nodded at me and called “Bon appétit!”
I guess it’s a bit unexciting to talk about the Louvre from
the outside, since all its famous works of art are (obviously) housed inside
the building. But the building itself was still impressive, especially since
it’s situated at one end of some lovely parklands. It’s strange to see a big
modern glass pyramid (the entrance) in the middle of the courtyard of a huge,
old stone building, but there you go.
I walked across a bridge covered in padlocks, where couples
write their initials on the lock, attach it to the bridge, and throw the key
into the River Seine. Naww. There were also a few combination locks, which was
quite amusing to see.
Notre Dame was next on the list, and this time I actually
went inside. It was Sunday, so a service was in progress, and it felt somehow
wrong to have all these tourists wandering through with their cameras,
shuffling along and snapping away at anything and everything in the middle of
it all. I tried to imagine how I’d feel if it were my church service being
invaded by hundreds of curious onlookers who whispered despite the ‘Silence!’
signs and took photos despite signs pleading for no flash photography. There
was something disrespectful about it, I thought. Still, the cathedral had
stunning stained glass windows and architecture, and I was glad I got to see
it.
I boarded the metro again to head towards the final place I
wanted to see: the catacombs. Here, the walls of old stone mining tunnels were
lined with the bones of poorer Parisians in the 18th century, and
were now open to visitors as a tourist attraction. I boarded the metro very
optimistically, and joined a very long queue snaking around near the entrance
to the catacombs.
My hopes were soon dashed. Staffers of the catacombs came
around and informed us that we had a two hour wait from where we stood, and
that they closed at 4pm. It was already past 2:30pm. There was no way I’d make
it inside in time.
After a brief chat and commiserations with another hopeful
tourist standing in line, I headed back to the hotel room, where I napped. It
was a beautiful nap because I had never felt so exhausted. In fact, that whole
evening all I wanted to do was sleep. But it was our tour group’s last night,
so I felt obligated to hit the town one last time.
Our group split into two: two-thirds went to the famous
Moulin Rouge, while the rest of us headed for another restaurant in town for
some French cuisine, minus the cabaret show. I’d wanted to go to the Moulin
Rouge myself, since it sounded pretty spectacular, but it had a price tag to
match: 147 Euros. I wasn’t sure if it would be spectacular enough to justify
the price.
I was so glad to be with the smaller group though. After a
delicious French dinner (vegetarian lasagna is surprisingly tasty), a few of us
walked uphill through cute cobbled Parisian streets towards a lookout area.
From there, we were treated to stunning views of Paris by night, free from the Eiffel tower
crowds. It was amazing to just share that moment with only a few other people,
rather than having a whole tour bus snapping pictures of the same landmark or
view.
We then headed back towards the Moulin Rouge to meet up with
everyone else after the show at the pub next door, O’ Sullivans. After a few
drinks they turned up the music, and all of us danced and sang along when they
played our ‘day song’ (the song played every morning on the coach when leaving
a destination).
One short taxi ride later, it marked the end of the most
fantastic time of my life.
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