I had spent an entire summer in Germany, and I was ready for a vacation. Luckily, Cologne is a perfect starting point for would be travelers in Europe, and is one of the busiest train stations for miles around. I was talking with Michelle one night, and somebody mentioned something about Paris…. Less than a week later, I found myself waking up at five o'clock in the morning, walking down to the train station, and boarding an express train to Paris. I had paid more than I thought was reasonable for the ticket, but the train made barely any stops and took slightly less than four hours to make it to la Belle Ville. I know it was four hours because Michelle reminds me once in a while that her less expensive though slightly more arduous bus trip from Hamburg was a good three times longer. As a token of consolidation, I offer the memory of my quiet railcar world being interrupted at shortly after six am by a horde of what must have been thirteen year old girls on a school trip.
They were loud.
Still, I arrived alive to meet Michelle on the platform of the Gare du Nord. From the station, we walked along la Rue de Dunkerque to Boulevard de Rochechouart where our hotel was, at the base of Sacr� Coeur. Of course, we didn't have a lot of time in Paris. Both of us had to be back at work Monday morning, and so we had less than forty-eight hours in Paris. We stopped at bakery to buy croissants on the way to the hotel. Still, we were determined not to treat this as a must-see-it-all holiday, and just see what we would during the course of having fun in Paris.
We began by climbing the steps to the top of Paris at Sacr� Coeur. I had been pretty worried about the weather just a few hours ago. A thick fog had surrounded my train for nearly the entire trip and had only begun to melt away as I was entering the station. Now, however, the sun was shining brightly and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We stopped for lunch before moving on, Brie sandwiches purchased from a nearby shop did the trick.
From there it was a short walk to the small Montmartre art district. We walked through the market square, filled easel to easel with aspiring artists young and old. A painting would have been nice, but clearly didn't mesh with our goal of spending as little money as possible. Instead we decided to take the metro downtown where art in a manner of speaking is free, and while it was still light out. All you have to do is open your camera and start clicking to come up with art here. The city projects an amazing sense of size. There are so many buildings that could only have been built by and for royalty. The sheer number of majestic buildings and their level of ornate detail makes it difficult to think that ordinary people live here. I was walking along the Quai de l'H�tel de Ville and onto L'Ile de la Cit� in the centre of town while I was thinking this. We were on our way to Notre Dame. The day was still gorgeous by the time we reached the Louvre. We walked around the palace grounds and finished off the waffles we had bought on the way, but never went inside. We did not want to pay that much money to spend a day indoors. We had come to see the city, and we had barely scratched the surface. We turned our backs on the Mona Lisa and walked through the Tuileries gardens, continuing west until we reached l'Arc de Triomphe. There was a huge crowd around it. It was a ceremony recognizing former UN peacekeepers. We watched for a while, but eventually gave up any hope of climbing the arc and headed instead to the Eiffel Tower. It is a lot bigger than I remembered. The line wasn't short either, but this was something we had to do. What better way to see all the city than from the observation deck?
The began to set as we snaked our way slowly towards the elevator. Security was a little tight all around Paris after September 11th, here at the Eiffel tower the military was deployed, visibly. Soldiers in fatigues with machine guns kept a silent watch at the base of the tower.
We reached the top of the tower in time to kiss the sun goodbye and watch the City of Lights flicker to life from above.
We had had great weather. Twenty degrees may not seem warm to everybody, but Germany had just had its coldest summer in fifty years and we were dressed for July. As the sun set and the wind picked up atop the tower, we decided not to buy the next meal on the street, or in a grocery but rather in a nice warm restaurant.
Saturday had been tiring and so we slowed down a little on Sunday. Starting off at the Place de la Bastille, we made a breakfast of bread cheese and jam in the square. A surprisingly good Dixieland brass band was playing just out of sight. We walked over to find them and discovered that it was an outdoor concert put on as part of a Parkinson's disease campaign. Farther up the street, we passed another famous French peculiarity, or rather it passed us. A public demonstration, but for a cause which draws far less sympathy from me, motorbikes. Hundreds of two wheeled things passing in procession, mopeds, scooters, dirt bikes and motorcycles, all leaning mercilessly on their horns. It seems that some people want to outlaw them. Shocking.
We had less time today than yesterday, and so decided to make more use of our weekend metro passes. We headed back towards the Champs Elys�es and then south to Place des Invalides. We ended our Paris adventure in the rue St. Germain, walking without any real destination, simply enjoying the city before heading back to the train station feeling like a lot more than two days had passed.
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