France

Where's the Car?

The flight to Paris left Edinburgh fairly early, so I had to arrive at the airport early. So early that there was no one at the rental car counter to accept the return. Since I've not received any ten-thousand dollar rental fees, I presume they found the key and everything was fine.

British Midlands is very much an airline in the American mold: As minimal service as possible. A flying bus. I suppose service was acceptable (and UK standards have not dropped as low as those i the states). We had to change planes at East Midlands Airport. There, I bought "The Cobra Event." It was an interesting read, about a psychopath who wanted to release a biological weapon in the New York City subway system.

The flight to Paris arrived late. (All British Midlands flights arrived late at their final destination.) We were stuck behind a jumbo jet from Russia, and the French had one immigration official on duty. After fifteen minutes, the number doubled, to two. After an hour, I was finally through immigration.

I hope the French hire a few more immigration officials before the World Cup.

No idea how long my bags had been spinning around on the baggage claim carrousel, then again, there were a lot of them. I next had to find my bus to the hotel. There was no one with a sign, so I started looking for Voyages a Paris. There were no desks for them. I kept looking, and asked some people, but no one knew. I finally came across someone who had heard of them, and she directed me to a location where the name Voyage a Paris was on a small sign. Naturally, it was in the departures concourse. And no one was there. Sophie called the company, and apparently the driver had looked for me for an hour after arrival, and then left. (Remember: I spent an hour in line at immigration.) I had spent a further hour looking for the connection before Sophie called.

At least Voyages did the right thing; they hired a taxi to take me from the airport to the hotel, and covered the extra expense.

So, I arrived at the Atlantide Republique Hotel at about 3:30PM. Checked in, and then went to the Army Museum and Napoleon's Tomb. The Army Museum was OK, basically just a bunch of banners from French campaigns. Reference to Crecy, Agincourt, etc, was conspicuous in its absense.

The real reason to head there was to see Napoleon's Tomb. Napoleon is obviously a big French hero, but does he really deserve that honor? While a damned site better than Robbespiere, he was essentially a military dictator that plunged Europe into a devastating war that lasted over a decade. He invaded the Low Countries and set up servile dictatorships, invaded Spain, Italy, Austria, Prussia, and finally Russia. He introduced conscription. The Peninsular Campaigns were marked for their brutality.

This is a hero?

I bought a new camera battery near Napoleon's Tomb for a mere 13 Francs. That's cheaper than they cost here in the States.

After the visit to the Tomb, I decided to visit L'Arc de Triomphe. It was closed. The next day was a national holiday, celebrating the victory at the end of WWII, so the area around the arch was closed for a military parade. Bummer.

Back to the hotel. I decided to have French cuisine for dinner (In Paris, who'd a thunk it?) and got a recommendation from the hotel. The restaurant was Occitanie, specializing in southwestern cuisine. I started with Escargot in an Anise seed sauce, and had Duck with Truffles as my main course. Instead of having dessert there, I went by a pattiserie, where I had penguin for dessert.

(This was a chocolate pastry shaped like a penguin.)

I read a bit, then fell asleep.

I slept well. After breakfast (croissants and tea), I decided to see if my friend Andrew Dareys still lived in Paris. It took a little digging, but his phone number was still listed. Since it had the same address I remembered writing on a postcard in Malaysia, I knew it was him.

It was a Friday holiday, and Andrew had always been more of an evening worker than a morning worker when a Bell Labs. Despite that, I gambled a bit on his good will, and called in the morning before setting out. I got an answering machine, with a message in French, and a bit of English at the end. Damn. Did it say he was out of town for the weekend? Or was it even the same Andrew? I spoke, apologizing for the time, and indicated I was the James Armstrong who worked with Andrew Dareys at Bell Labs, and that I was in Paris for the weekend. After about 30 seconds, Andrew picked up, "James, is that really you?"

Contact.

We made plans to meet that evening. So, at 8:30, I set out for Versailles.

I've got to compliment the Parisians on their public transportation system. New York and London have done excellent jobs, but they don't compare to Paris for speed and thoroughness of coverage. You can be certain of a Metro stop within a couple blocks in Paris, and the commuter rail system is integrated seamlessly.

It has been getting hotter during my trip. I escaped Scotland with only a couple minutes of showers over the course of a week, and arrived in Paris as summer weather was making its debut. Temperatures were forecast to reach into the low 80's this Friday, so I had to abandon my jacket. This bothered me a little, as I was more vulnerable to pickpockets, but wearing a jacket in this heat would have left me a rather odorous mess.

I took the Metro to Auserlitz station, where I changed to a commuter train that terminated at Versailles. All told, maybe an hour in transit, followed by a short walk. The grounds are cobblestones, which was a bit painful for my feet, despite my shoes. Inside the Versailles there were many people. This truly distracted from the palace. I was taller than most of them, but I still felt squeezed, and slightly claustrophobic. I guess I was a bit fearful of pick pockets, too.

Inside, there were some nice paintings and tapestries, but in many places, the direct light of the sun fell on the paintings, and reflected off the paintings, ruining the view. I doubt it is good for the paintings, either.

I only spent an hour inside the Versailles, and quickly exited for the gardens. The gardens were magnificent, with many fountains and beautiful plants. There were sparrows in the trees, singing, and tens of thousands of tourists wandering. I guess this is to be expected on a national holiday. I must have spent nearly three hours wandering in the gardens before setting off back to Paris.

I had hoped to have lunch at the Paris-Dakar Restaurant, as I wanted to try some Senegalese food, but it was closed for the holidays. I ended up at a Vietnamese restaurant near Gare de L'est, where I had beef sate noodles.

I took a brief nap, and then met up with Andrew outside the Opera. Andrew described this place as being the traditional meeting spot in Paris, and there were a lot of people there. In the ten minutes I was waiting for Andrew, I was accosted by gypsies four times, begging for money. I was not impressed.

Leaving Opera, we took a walking tour of Paris, past the Louvre stumps, Obelisk-Concorde, to Ile de France and a Left Bank cafe. We went past Fauchon, which was closed. We then visited Pigalle, and walked up Montmarte from there. I was in agony, and did not know why. It wasn't that steep a hill, and I had been doing a lot of walking already on the trip, so I didn't think it was that, but I still hurt. When I got home at the end of the evening, I discovered I had worn a hole in one of my socks, and developed a blister on the ball of my right foot. No wonder each footstep was agony.

Andrew is doing well, and sends his greetings to our mutual friends. He's just changed jobs, to the Peasant's Bank, and he has a girlfriend in Japan who is willing to sacrifice her career to be with him. He's thinking of moving to London, since London and Frankfurt are the business centers of Europe. We chatted at length about old times.

We went past the touristy places at Montmarte to a little restaurant where Andrew knows the owner. I had a dozen escargot, and beef in creme sauce. For desert was a creme broulee type dish, but with vanilla flavoring. As it was getting near 11PM, we were both tired, so went home. We agreed that we'd try to meet up for dinner the next night.

Saturday was my day to visit the Louvre. Before entering, I walked through the gardens of Concorde, to the immediate west, and then stood in line for 30 minutes. I entered at 9:15, a guard ushered me past all the women who had to queue to get their handbags inspected. Having only a camera and pockets, I clearly was unarmed!

I wanted to see the Egyptian collection, as the Louvre is supposed to have one of the most impressive collections of Egyptian artifacts in the world. Getting there was tricky, as part of the museum was closed. I decided to first head up to see the Wiged Victory of Samathrace and the Mona Lisa. I was mildly surprised that the area around the Mona Lisa was not as crowded as I had been lead to expect.

Nice painting.

Next, I went to the Mesopetamian exhibits. Without a doubt, here was the most impressive article in the Louvre, the Code of Hammurabi. Our systems of laws and justice evolved from this beginning, 5000 years ago. Modern civilization was the result of this rock. More than anything else I have seen, this made me feel humble.

Next stop was the reconstructed temple of Sargon, and the winged lions. Those were impressive. I eventually found my way to the Egyptian collection. A lot of steps up and down in the Louvre, fairly painful on blisters. Highlight of the Egyptian collection was the statue of Ramses II. But my feet hurt so much I had to rest them for a few minutes. I found my way to the cafe, and let them cool.

After a rest, I visited the Italian painters, more Egyptian Art, then the French, Dutch, and German painters. By 1AM, everything was starting to look alike, I knew I had reached museum burnout. I left for lunch at a cafe nearby, confits of duck au pommes. Delicious.

I decided to visit Notre Dame. I took a quick look, and admired the magnificent scaffolding covering most of the cathedral. Next, I went to the Eiffel Tower. This is big, and it was crowded. I waited in line for half an hour before getting a ticket to ascend to the second level. I wanted to go to the top, but there was an additional hour wait for that elevator, so I stopped at the second level. There were some magnificent views of Paris from here. I spent a fair bit of time admiring the scenery, and then went back to my hotel, arriving at 5:15. I had spent ten hours on my feet.

I called Andrew to check on the evening's plans. He was sick. Yesterday, he had told me about how, since he'd gone to Paris, he had been so healthy. He had complained a bit about some swelling in the jaw, though. Saturday morning, when he woke, it was apparently more painful, so he visited a doctor. Turns out, he had a viral infection, and was given some antibiotics. He spent most of the day in bed, but was eager to go out.

We met at 8:30, and then met up with some of his friends. We drove to a restaurant near Napoleon's Tomb, where I had duck with olives and pate de fois gras. Dessert was creme brulee. Good food, good conversation. (The French expect to win the World Cup.) Got home at 1AM, and fell asleep. Next day, I was leaving for Amsterdam.

Take a Dutch treat.