Today we awoke to a pleasant April shower which was perfect because we were headed to an outdoor art show. Everyone knows paintings do well when they are wet. We braved the weather and headed over to the show. The art was amazing and was extremely varied. There were paintings, sculptures, hand made hats and some weird erotic art. Kinda bizarre but such is Paris. We found an artist the we all really liked and we bargained with him on some paintings. He asked where we were from and we said Jacksonville to which he replied "Ah Monsieur Sisk". Apparently Mr. Sisk is a legend in this town.
M who has become our unofficial (or official in his mind) tour guide planned a nice walk from the apartment down to Notre Dame through the Luxembourg Gardens. The best part about his plan was it was raining. But you cant see the sites form the Metro so walk we did. The Gardens are amazing with fountains and statues everywhere. They say that when the weather is beautiful the gardens are packed with people picnicking and playing boules, football and rugby.
Our next stop was Notre Dame. It is massive Church and very impressive. The first thing that everyone does when they come up to Notre Dame is take pictures with the Church in the background. So that is what we did. We took pictures of M and K and they took pictures of us. We even took pictures of people we didn't know and helped them take pictures of people they didn't know. We were all just sitting there taking pictures when we realised we better move on our we would be caught in this picture taking cycle forever.
M, our fearless leader scoped out the line for the bell tower. M and I stood there in the rain while J and K went to a cafe and ate a sandwich. Does that sound funny to anyone else but me? We finally got to the ticket lady and paid our 7.50 euros (you don't even want to know what that is in American Dollars) and started up the spiral steps. We went up the steps and we went up the steps and then we went up the steps some more. I thought I saw a man administering oxygen at one point during the climb. Sir Edmund Hillary would have had trouble with this climb. We kept thinking 80% of America couldnt make it up these steps and then we realized 80% of Americans couldnt have even fit in the narrow stairwell to begin with. Alas the top came and after our bodies aclimated it was a beautiful sight.
After the decent which was a little easier but very similar to a 45 min merry-go-round ride, we went in the Church. Notre Dame is absolutely stunning. It is exactly what you would imagine a medieval church would be like. Truly amazing. The only problem is all of the people in there talking and taking pictures. There are signs outside and on the doors that say in every language imaginable and some you couldn't imagine to shut up and put your cameras away. But when you walk in it is like a Disco Party with the flashing and all the talking. Bizarre and a little annoying.
After leaving Notre Dame we went to eat at a quaint little restaurant called Quasimodo. You get it? Quasimodo. Those darn french and their sense of humor. Food was good, it was a little more touristy but after our climbing expedition it hit the spot.
On our way to the metro we passed an Irish bar and couldn't help but to stop in for some Guinness and English conversation. The power of the Guinness should never be underestimated.
CE
For pictures of our second day click here
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Paris - Day 1
After our naps, we figured we would be as touristy as possible. So we walked on down to the Tour Eiffel with everyone else in Paris. We did not go to the observation deck or to the top but they must be giving away Euros up there based on the lines. After marveling at the beauty of the worlds largest piece of steel (which of course the Parisians hated until they noticed it was attracting world attention), we decided to head back to Montparnasse for some dinner.
There is a nice restaurant across the street form the apartment called Chez Fernand that J and I had eaten in last time we were here. It is very good if you order the right thing. Last time I ordered the liver and it pretty much tasted like liver, which is foul. But being the forgiving and go -with-the-flow kinda guy that I am, I agreed to give old Fernand another run. So we went and were promptly seated and we even got an English speaking waiter. I figure there is no way I could order wrong this time, I don't even have to pretend to speak French. Well friends for once in my life I can say that I am batting a thousand at something. I am 2 for 2 on the most disgusting meals every to be invented by man. In fact I question if these meals were invented by man. M and I ordered the same thing, which we thought was going to be Beef Bourguignon. Instead we got some cut of meat that was supposed to be like a back-strap and was explained to us as avery special cut, a favorite in France. Let me just state that I love France. I am a self admitted Francophile. But i can not understand what in the hell these people eat sometimes. This cut of meat smelled like a dead deer, had the texture of a pigs ear, and tasted like horse squeeze. Literally! We told the waiter we had ordered the Bourguignon and he apologized and brought some out for M. I was to nauseous to eat anymore meat. I thin they were just trying to pass off the rotten horse stomach they had in the back on the dumb Americans. But, to finish up the meal J and I had a chocolate pie that was exquisite.
We came back to the apartment to find that for some reason our key would not work. We couldn't get in the apartment. No big deal right, if your at home. But being in France not knowing anyone and not speaking the language presented a bit of difficulty. We tried to climb through windows, we called the Sisks (the owners) in America, we even started asking strangers on the street to help get a locksmith. Finally when we were about to kick the door in K said a prayer and the key worked. Thank you Jesus.
Once we got in the apartment everyone went to bed and slept like babies, except for me. I was scared the horse or dog or whatever I ate was going to come after me to get his stomach back.
Au Revoir
CE
There are no pictures of our excursion to the tour Eiffel because my little camera is broken and M did not bring any computer cables. But to see what it looks like click here.
There is a nice restaurant across the street form the apartment called Chez Fernand that J and I had eaten in last time we were here. It is very good if you order the right thing. Last time I ordered the liver and it pretty much tasted like liver, which is foul. But being the forgiving and go -with-the-flow kinda guy that I am, I agreed to give old Fernand another run. So we went and were promptly seated and we even got an English speaking waiter. I figure there is no way I could order wrong this time, I don't even have to pretend to speak French. Well friends for once in my life I can say that I am batting a thousand at something. I am 2 for 2 on the most disgusting meals every to be invented by man. In fact I question if these meals were invented by man. M and I ordered the same thing, which we thought was going to be Beef Bourguignon. Instead we got some cut of meat that was supposed to be like a back-strap and was explained to us as avery special cut, a favorite in France. Let me just state that I love France. I am a self admitted Francophile. But i can not understand what in the hell these people eat sometimes. This cut of meat smelled like a dead deer, had the texture of a pigs ear, and tasted like horse squeeze. Literally! We told the waiter we had ordered the Bourguignon and he apologized and brought some out for M. I was to nauseous to eat anymore meat. I thin they were just trying to pass off the rotten horse stomach they had in the back on the dumb Americans. But, to finish up the meal J and I had a chocolate pie that was exquisite.
We came back to the apartment to find that for some reason our key would not work. We couldn't get in the apartment. No big deal right, if your at home. But being in France not knowing anyone and not speaking the language presented a bit of difficulty. We tried to climb through windows, we called the Sisks (the owners) in America, we even started asking strangers on the street to help get a locksmith. Finally when we were about to kick the door in K said a prayer and the key worked. Thank you Jesus.
Once we got in the apartment everyone went to bed and slept like babies, except for me. I was scared the horse or dog or whatever I ate was going to come after me to get his stomach back.
Au Revoir
CE
There are no pictures of our excursion to the tour Eiffel because my little camera is broken and M did not bring any computer cables. But to see what it looks like click here.
Jacksonville to Paris
We left M and K's house at 1:00 on Friday March 28. Late as usual. We rushed toward the airport only to be caught in good 'ol Jacksonville traffic. The kind where everyone slows down to look at the abandoned car on the side of the road. We arrive at JIA about an hour and a half before our flight. Which is good for International flights, because they suggest that the latest you should arrive is 2 hours before your flight. Luckily we found a superb parking space and the ticket lines were not too long. However as Delta is want to do, they had overbooked the flight.
The flight to Atlanta was fine until the decent for the landing. To say it was a bumpy ride would be an understatement. K almost lost her lunch. We make our way out the International terminal, where by the way they have a lady playing a grand piano in the food court, I thought possibly the flight to Atlanta had caused me severe jet lag and I was hallucinating. We decided to grab some crappy airport food which would be a thousand times less crappy than the crap they pass off for food on the flight. B y the time we got our food our flight was leaving as we were running for the gate, which of course was as fara away form the food court as it could be. Now I know what Pheidippides felt like. We did make the plane, but we were the last to board.
What a great plane it was. It was similar to sitting in a sardine can. If J or I wanted to move we had to coordinate it like a Grande Ballet. Then Delta was nice enough to give us screens in the seat-backs to watch movies, t.v., etc. The only problem was J's didn't work and mine kept rebooting itself. Eight hours is a long flight with out some sort of distraction. At about the 4 hour mark I decided I had had enough and wanted to jumpo out of the plane. Luckily J talked me out of it.
Our arrival into CDG was smooth and our bags were waiting for us at baggage claim. Why can't the people at JIA figure out how to get your bags to baggage claim like their comrades at CDG. We had ordered a car service and a nice American from New Mexico picked us up, he gave us a quick tour of the city and some great tips on how to enjoy our stay.
We walked up the stairs into the apartment, marveled at its beauty, and all collapsed for a nap.
Au revoir
CE
For pictures of the apartment in Paris click here
The flight to Atlanta was fine until the decent for the landing. To say it was a bumpy ride would be an understatement. K almost lost her lunch. We make our way out the International terminal, where by the way they have a lady playing a grand piano in the food court, I thought possibly the flight to Atlanta had caused me severe jet lag and I was hallucinating. We decided to grab some crappy airport food which would be a thousand times less crappy than the crap they pass off for food on the flight. B y the time we got our food our flight was leaving as we were running for the gate, which of course was as fara away form the food court as it could be. Now I know what Pheidippides felt like. We did make the plane, but we were the last to board.
What a great plane it was. It was similar to sitting in a sardine can. If J or I wanted to move we had to coordinate it like a Grande Ballet. Then Delta was nice enough to give us screens in the seat-backs to watch movies, t.v., etc. The only problem was J's didn't work and mine kept rebooting itself. Eight hours is a long flight with out some sort of distraction. At about the 4 hour mark I decided I had had enough and wanted to jumpo out of the plane. Luckily J talked me out of it.
Our arrival into CDG was smooth and our bags were waiting for us at baggage claim. Why can't the people at JIA figure out how to get your bags to baggage claim like their comrades at CDG. We had ordered a car service and a nice American from New Mexico picked us up, he gave us a quick tour of the city and some great tips on how to enjoy our stay.
We walked up the stairs into the apartment, marveled at its beauty, and all collapsed for a nap.
Au revoir
CE
For pictures of the apartment in Paris click here
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