Wednesday, October 12, 2011

8. Paris Again!

Tuesday, 10 September.  10 a.m. train to Paris.  Our first stop today is Sacre Coeur.  The day is hot and muggy and we work up quite a sweat walking up the steps to the church.  We have lunch outside at touristy Montmarte, then take the Metro to the other side of town, Les Invalides, where we visit the Musee Armee and Napoleon's magnificent tomb.  Afterwards, Cathy shops for dishes.  We are all tired and stop for drinks at a bar on the left bank.  We are disappointed at just missing the Seine boat ride, but feel as if we have accomplished much today.

Wednesday, 11 September.  We leave our hotel in darkness at 6:15.  Unfortunately, we encounter a huge traffic snarl on the Paris orbital.  We arrive, however, at Calais (208 miles) by 10:30 for our 11:15 SeaLink crossing.  The children enjoy this trip more than the Sea Cat, and it is more relaxing.  There is a little more time (90 minutes instead of 45) to wander around and enjoy the ship and the sea.  We declare our St. Emilion wine and new dishes, but are within limits.  By 12:30 p.m. we are on our way, out of Dover, heading home.  We make the TESCO in Bishops Stortford by two o'clock (309 miles) and are home at 3:30.  It is drizzly and ugly and very cold and Cathy thinks that winter has arrived

Leaving Paris
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Enroute to Dover, 11 September, 1991, Noon (continental time).  SeaLink Ferry.

We are enroute to Dover, passing a P&O ferry heading the other way to Calais.  It is a bit foggy, but bright.  We ran into a huge traffic jam as we approached Paris, where eight or so lanes had to funnel into two.  Even though I wasn't late for work, I felt the stress levels rising, as we sat in traffic, in the worst lane, and didn't go anywhere, my stress heightened by the inability of our bulky van to weave in and out of traffic lanes.  Those little French cars make almost right or left turns as they change lanes.  After managing about 20 miles in 20 minutes and the next 2 miles in 40 minutes we were finally out of the mess and cruising in the early morning with patches of fog and listening to the Doobies then to an interesting interview with "famous painter" Francis Bacon in London on the BBC World Service. 

 The sea is fairly calm this morning.  There are some swells but nothing major – speaking of which, John Major is meeting with Pres. Mitterand today.  The French President is reportedly intransigent over certain EEC issues over which he should not be intransigent.  The headlines this morning are the release of Erich Honneker to Germany from Russia, the continued frustration over failure to achieve a cease fire in Yugoslavia; demonstrations in Georgia to get rid of the non-communist mayor; and the US Senate hearings over Clarence Thomas, President Bush's Supreme Court nominee.

 Paris in three days.  Really two, since Cathy and Robert spent the night in Dijon again Sunday night.  Monday we went to the Louvre, practically dragging the children around after the highlight of the Mona Lisa.  (We pass by bits of floating seaweed and garbage, then the Hover Craft skims by).  Except for Thomas, the children did perk up at the Venus de Milo and after a Coke.  I am a firm believer in caffeine and sugar on those long marches through the cities, which is exactly how we approached Charleston, New York, London and Paris.  After the Louvre, we took the Metro to the Arc de Triomphe, where Mara was whistled off of the tomb of the unknown soldier by an aged gendarme with lots of medals on his chest.  Unfortunately, the top of the Arc was closed for a visit by the United Arab Emirates president a little while later.  Frustrated by the lack of view, we walked down the Champs Elysees and had hot dogs and drinks, in Cathy's and my case, a beer and a vodka tonic.

 One thing that was a little out of the ordinary as we sat on the Champs Elysees was the eerie silence which descended on the Avenue as the traffic was stopped for about a half an hour.  Shortly afterwards, the official motorcade of French and Arab dignitaries in their Renault 25s sped by with their motorcycle escort to the Arc, then returned some twenty minutes later.  Police and soldiers lined the route and bars were set up preventing pedestrian access to the street.  (Dover is visible, we are a quarter mile from port.) 

 One of the scenes I love in Paris, with its terrible traffic patterns (no real lanes, everyone trying to be first) was the sight of French motorcycle cops accompanying some dignitary, riding out in front of the official's car and waving motorists out of the way of the speeding big shot.  Nor can I forget the many machine guns which were so noticeable the first time we roamed the Paris streets, nor the police hand guns with their wires attached to the guns -- so no one can steal them?

The Lunch Wasn't Great, But the Setting Was
In contrast to Monday's sort of haphazard pattern and leisurely train return, we had a better plan on Tuesday, though we still could not get into Paris until 11:20.  We began with a visit to the Montmarte, walking up hundreds of steps (my legs were sore this morning after the first hours' drive, as though I had run a long way yesterday) to Sacre Coeur.  After a visit to the church, we had lunch in the square (very mediocre food), then took the subway across the Seine and visited Les Invalides with its Napoleon's relics and tomb.  On the sidewalk, walking to the museum, we met some college students initiating the new kids.  Me: "What are you doing?" Older Student: "These are the new kids and we cover them with shit, and make them walk down the streets and sell toilet paper to raise money for books and things."  They were very polite.  Cathy was worried, however, as she glanced down the street and saw a crowd of unruly young men approaching and spraying things on each other. 
Talking to Students on Way to Invalides
After the visit to Les Invalides, we picked up the rest of the dishes we had bought in Bordeaux, had a drink or two at the corner of Rue du Bac and Quai d'Orsay (or whatever street it is by the river), at which point we decided not to wait for the 9 p.m. boat ride on the Seine.  Instead, and rather than dine in Paris, we made the 7:32 train by the skin of our teeth (the door closed on Cathy).  On our walk back to the hotel, we stopped for dinner for the children at McDonald's, which was very nice, lots of French families and polite employees—even if Thomas did pee in his pants on the slide.  McDonald's in France sells Evian water and beer. 

Some things we would like to bring to France: shower curtains, wash cloths, courteous drivers.

Thursday, 12 September.  Saffron Walden.

Back home.  Breezed through immigration and customs, though I am still not sure why we did not have to pay any duty on the wine and the plates.  We more than made up for our good fortune, however, on the £76 ($125) duty payable on $340 of Brooks Brothers shirts Cathy ordered for the children! 

The day grew colder and darker as we drove north, and it was quite cold in Saffron Walden.  Cathy fears the onslaught of winter, though today is lovely. 

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