Wednesday June 30 EURAIL TO PARIS
During the journey southwards, I passed the time by chatting with an American, named Bill, and a Japenese fellow with an unpronouncable name.
Bill and I discussed his girl, marriage, Astrology and Danish smorrebrod. He departed at Hamburg.
The man from Japan and I then shared a pleasant but technically difficult conversation for a few hours. Luckily, he carried a Japanese-English dictionary. Afterwards we put up the armrests and stretched horizontally across 3 seats each, in our compartment. We then enjoyed blissfully uninterrupted sleep, except when woken by 4 passport and 6 ticket checkpoints.
Donna met my train at Gare du Nord at 10am. She complained bitterly about her solo night in Paris, having worked herself up to near hysteria, whilst awaiting my arrival. I heard snatches of "Rip-off City" and how she had spent $27 on one meal and the 'rental' of a sub-standard bed for a single night in a shady area of town.
My overriding focus was not, however, on Donna's meltdown but on getting myself a much-needed drink of water. My overnight train had run out of drinking water long before we'd arrived in Paris. So, I was far too thirsty to do more than listen to Donna, whilst watching for fall-out.
She soon attracted uniformed attention on the platform, so I walked Donna, my thirsty self and my backpack, briskly towards the exit. By the time Donna had run out of steam we were both standing outside Paris' Gare du Nord station.
Bill and I discussed his girl, marriage, Astrology and Danish smorrebrod. He departed at Hamburg.
The man from Japan and I then shared a pleasant but technically difficult conversation for a few hours. Luckily, he carried a Japanese-English dictionary. Afterwards we put up the armrests and stretched horizontally across 3 seats each, in our compartment. We then enjoyed blissfully uninterrupted sleep, except when woken by 4 passport and 6 ticket checkpoints.
Donna met my train at Gare du Nord at 10am. She complained bitterly about her solo night in Paris, having worked herself up to near hysteria, whilst awaiting my arrival. I heard snatches of "Rip-off City" and how she had spent $27 on one meal and the 'rental' of a sub-standard bed for a single night in a shady area of town.
My overriding focus was not, however, on Donna's meltdown but on getting myself a much-needed drink of water. My overnight train had run out of drinking water long before we'd arrived in Paris. So, I was far too thirsty to do more than listen to Donna, whilst watching for fall-out.
She soon attracted uniformed attention on the platform, so I walked Donna, my thirsty self and my backpack, briskly towards the exit. By the time Donna had run out of steam we were both standing outside Paris' Gare du Nord station.
by kind courtesy of
Gently nudging my psychically wounded companion towards a place likely to sell soft drinks, I was finally able to quench my thirst. Only then was I able to de-fuse the situation, by talking Donna out of getting a taxi to Orly Airport in order to catch the next flight back to Vancouver.
Truth be told, I was sorely tempted to hail an airport cab for her, myself. But, I understood that Donna was only feeling spooked by the big city and its demands. And since I had been the one who had insisted that she try to manage alone, I now felt somewhat responsible that she'd endured such a miserable introduction to Paris.
It was difficult for me, then a confirmed city girl, to realize just how vulnerable, and out of her depth, a practical country girl really can feel in the bigger cities. Not everyone adjusts to city situations at lightning speed, as I had grown up doing. And Donna's Circadian rhythms were clearly better attuned to country life than to the insane hustle and bustle of a metropolis.
It was thus up to me to calm Donna down and prevent her from making an erroneous and irrevocable decision about her once-in-a-lifetime trip. And since one has always to live with oneself, I chose to take the high road rather than risk creating regrets later on. Though I was neither fond of, nor even particularly liked, Donna, helping her regain equilibrium was just the right thing to do.
Picture of the Luxembourg Gardens ©2002 by James Martin.
The temperature approached 100F (40C) that day, far too hot for strife and contention. So, with Donna keeping pace, and without a single clue of where we would sleep that night, I strode, confidently, southwards.
It was good to walk on terra firma again, after spending 19 hours in a rocking train. Donna was silent for the hour or so that we walked through Paris to find a Pension near Luxembourg Gardens.
Our room was small, dark and airless, had no air conditioning and its solitary ceiling fan offered only the sparsest relief. We had to share a toilet with anonymous others in the pension. But that room was affordable on our $10-a-day budget - at least for a couple of days. Plus it did have its very own washbasin and bidet and it looked out over a pretty garden in the shady courtyard below.
Something about this area of Paris gave me comfort, and a sense of knowing and belonging. It was odd since I had no recollection of visiting there before. Yet the feeling persisted. And my feet had brought me here without hesitation. Perhaps they knew better than I what this place meant to me?
My 'knowing' was not to be confirmed until a few days after my entire European adventure ended, while I was relating my Parisian adventures to my Mother, in her home in England.
I knew that my parents had emigrated from India to Paris when I was barely a toddler. What I had NOT known was in which area of Paris they had made a home. So, when I described Donna's and my Pension, my Mother, at once, recognized the address. Our hotel room lay directly across the courtyard from the lodgings I had shared with my parents, 25 years earlier.
Silently, I smiled an ecstatic thank you to my angels for awakening a timely spacial memory in me in such an unexpected way. While I focussed on preventing Donna from panicking and getting us both away from Gare du Nord, my ego was effectively in 'neutral', and I was doing nothing, 'energetically-speaking', that interfered with the unfolding of a small miracle.
My angels had used my meagre compassion plus my 'take charge' attitude, regarding Donna and her needs, to lead me back - in time as well as space - to where I might re-visit my younger, more vulnerable and tender self. Why? To re-ignite and expand my capacity for compassion.
I knew all this to be true, in all its complex simplicity, in less than an instant. Since being struck by lighting as a small child I had had many such 'revelations' - or upgrades, as I like to think of them.
I would dearly treasure this new "upgrade" in days to come, when the rigours of continuous travelling exacted a punishing physical toll from Donna - and, in a different way, also from me.
Something about this area of Paris gave me comfort, and a sense of knowing and belonging. It was odd since I had no recollection of visiting there before. Yet the feeling persisted. And my feet had brought me here without hesitation. Perhaps they knew better than I what this place meant to me?
My 'knowing' was not to be confirmed until a few days after my entire European adventure ended, while I was relating my Parisian adventures to my Mother, in her home in England.
I knew that my parents had emigrated from India to Paris when I was barely a toddler. What I had NOT known was in which area of Paris they had made a home. So, when I described Donna's and my Pension, my Mother, at once, recognized the address. Our hotel room lay directly across the courtyard from the lodgings I had shared with my parents, 25 years earlier.
Without conscious knowledge, I had found
- and was then gazing upon -
the very same courtyard in
which I'd played as a baby.
HOW COOL IS THAT?!
This black and white picture of me standing on the balcony of
our Luxembourg Gardens lodgings was taken by
my Father on our arrival in Paris in 1950
HOW COOL IS THAT?!
This black and white picture of me standing on the balcony of
our Luxembourg Gardens lodgings was taken by
my Father on our arrival in Paris in 1950
Silently, I smiled an ecstatic thank you to my angels for awakening a timely spacial memory in me in such an unexpected way. While I focussed on preventing Donna from panicking and getting us both away from Gare du Nord, my ego was effectively in 'neutral', and I was doing nothing, 'energetically-speaking', that interfered with the unfolding of a small miracle.
My angels had used my meagre compassion plus my 'take charge' attitude, regarding Donna and her needs, to lead me back - in time as well as space - to where I might re-visit my younger, more vulnerable and tender self. Why? To re-ignite and expand my capacity for compassion.
I knew all this to be true, in all its complex simplicity, in less than an instant. Since being struck by lighting as a small child I had had many such 'revelations' - or upgrades, as I like to think of them.
I would dearly treasure this new "upgrade" in days to come, when the rigours of continuous travelling exacted a punishing physical toll from Donna - and, in a different way, also from me.
In our Parisian Pension, Donna and I freshened up and changed, quickly, into shorts, sandals and tank tops. Then we exchanged our 'steam-bath' of a room for the Rue de Rivoli and the relative coolness of a 3-hour city air-conditioned city bus tour.
The trouble with 70's air conditioning is that it could only lower the temperature inside the bus by about 10 degrees Celsius, compared with the outside temperature. And on that day, the outside temperature was already well beyond 40C!
The trouble with 70's air conditioning is that it could only lower the temperature inside the bus by about 10 degrees Celsius, compared with the outside temperature. And on that day, the outside temperature was already well beyond 40C!
photo by kind courtesy of www.bigbustours.com
I had taken a similar ride 4 years before en route back to UK from Morocco. We had been short of time then, and the weather was a good deal cooler, so we'd not left the bus at all.
This time, I was determined to leave the bus, along the way, and spend some time visiting a few of the sights. It was the best way I knew to soak in the atmosphere of a place.
This time, I was determined to leave the bus, along the way, and spend some time visiting a few of the sights. It was the best way I knew to soak in the atmosphere of a place.
After a wonderfully long and explorative bus ride, we both sauntered back towards Gare du Nord, to collect Donna's pack.
In my haste to steer her away from the station, that morning, I hadn't realized she'd stowed her backpack in a locker, prior to meeting me on the platform. She insisted that she had, but that I hadn't seemed to hear her.
Ooops...perhaps I should have listened more closely to Donna's litany of complaints?! So, now I would pay for my decision to ignore them, and dutifully accompany her to reclaim it. Fair's fair and one lives and learns, but did this latter lesson have to take place on what was surely the hottest day on record in this Parisian summer?
In my haste to steer her away from the station, that morning, I hadn't realized she'd stowed her backpack in a locker, prior to meeting me on the platform. She insisted that she had, but that I hadn't seemed to hear her.
Ooops...perhaps I should have listened more closely to Donna's litany of complaints?! So, now I would pay for my decision to ignore them, and dutifully accompany her to reclaim it. Fair's fair and one lives and learns, but did this latter lesson have to take place on what was surely the hottest day on record in this Parisian summer?
Ah but when you're crazy, what's another trek
through the sauna that was Paris that day?
Back at the hotel, Donna and I both drank gallons of bottled water, in lieu of food, since it was way too hot to imbibe anything solid. After a few hours' nap, we changed into dresses and heels for a sedate evening cruise up the Seine on the "Bateau Mouche".
PRESS HERE for information on Bateau Mouche
It was a perfect evening, warm and sultry. And Donna seemed, finally, to be enjoying herself in Paris. How could one resist being seduced by all the attractions along the Seine, bathed in glittering lights? What a romantic ride that cruise would have been in the company of "Mr Right".
It was almost 11pm by the end of our Bateau Mouche tour. Mercifully, the heat had abated sufficiently for us to walk UP the Champs Elysees towards the Arc de Triomphe.
by kind courtesy of
commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Avenue_des_Champs-%C3%89lys%C3%A9es_July_24,_2009_N2.jpg
Slightly ahead of us strode two lone males, who turned around, and waited for us to catch up with them, when they heard the clicking of our heels on the pavement. I was surprised by how very quiet the streets of Paris were, an hour before midnight.
photo by kind courtesy of http://www.inspiredinfrance.com
Walking a few blocks together, we discovered that our companions were both from the USA. They claimed to be chefs who owned their own restaurants in Indiana. Yet, on the road - or rail - one can claim to be anything one wants. It isn't necessarily true. And I had already learned to be polite, but accept nothing as reality unless it bears scrutiny.
To prove their culinary prowess to Donna and me, the two men invited us to dine with them in the shadow of the Arc de Triomphe. Our budget did not extend to such luxuries, so we were hesitant about accepting. But the delicious aromas wafting from the restaurant plus our hosts's insistence on footing the entire bill, sealed the deal for both of us. The magic of Paris made us throw caution to the wind as we smiled and said: "Mais oui, merci"
commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Avenue_des_Champs-%C3%89lys%C3%A9es_July_24,_2009_N2.jpg
photo by kind courtesy of http://www.inspiredinfrance.com
To prove their culinary prowess to Donna and me, the two men invited us to dine with them in the shadow of the Arc de Triomphe. Our budget did not extend to such luxuries, so we were hesitant about accepting. But the delicious aromas wafting from the restaurant plus our hosts's insistence on footing the entire bill, sealed the deal for both of us. The magic of Paris made us throw caution to the wind as we smiled and said: "Mais oui, merci"
Supper was superb, and our hosts were courteous, cheerful and flirtatious as well as very knowledgeable in a culinary sense. We enjoyed the luxury of speaking English to others who understood the same idioms. It was close to 1am when the pair took us dancing in a club off the Champs Elysee. There, when asked, I requested champagne. And we all toasted to Paris!
by kind courtesy of
Everyone was having a great time, dancing and chatting, till the bill arrived. Tom was charged a whopping $75 for a single bottle of Champagne - and we'd all eventually consumed two magnums! Tom proceeded to get seething mad with me for having had the temerity to request Champagne in Paris!
My view was if he hadn't wanted to pay for it, he shouldn't have ordered it. But I could see Tom was way too angry for a logical argument. So I suggested dancing might help him find his balance again - literally and otherwise.
We danced for an hour or so, but the atmosphere was far from joyful. Tom's mood remained dour till he took my hand, and, without explanation, pulled me off the dance floor. Then casually announcing that we were going for a walk, he practically dragged me around the block and into a nearby hotel.
My turn to seethe!
My turn to seethe!
Who the *&^% did he think he was??
While I certainly felt bad about the awkward situation that had shaken Tom to his core, I was not about to single-handedly make him 'feel better'. On the other hand, I did feel badly for my part in creating Tom's obvious stress.
He and his friend had given Donna and me a wonderful memory of a summer's night in Paris. We had feasted and enjoyed a good few laughs at the restaurant and club last night.
So, I put my own anger on hold to help my new friend. Ordering him to sit astride a chair, leaning forward against the seat-back, I quietened him down by giving him a back, neck and head massage. It worked like a charm because Tom's rage had exhausted him and he had quickly fallen fast asleep. So I covered him with a blanket and let him sleep.
Obviously, something was trying to get me to pay closer attention to conversations, but I would need to do so later.
At that moment, I needed only to find Donna and make sure she was safe. Quietly evacuating the hotel, I retraced my steps to the dance club. But the club had closed and Donna was nowhere to be found. I sincerely hoped she had made it back to the Pension.
He and his friend had given Donna and me a wonderful memory of a summer's night in Paris. We had feasted and enjoyed a good few laughs at the restaurant and club last night.
So, I put my own anger on hold to help my new friend. Ordering him to sit astride a chair, leaning forward against the seat-back, I quietened him down by giving him a back, neck and head massage. It worked like a charm because Tom's rage had exhausted him and he had quickly fallen fast asleep. So I covered him with a blanket and let him sleep.
by kind courtesy of www.getfitwithmelody.org
Twice in 24 hours I'd had to de-fuse a
situation I'd unintentionally
helped to create.
helped to create.
Obviously, something was trying to get me to pay closer attention to conversations, but I would need to do so later.
At that moment, I needed only to find Donna and make sure she was safe. Quietly evacuating the hotel, I retraced my steps to the dance club. But the club had closed and Donna was nowhere to be found. I sincerely hoped she had made it back to the Pension.
It was dawn and I needed to return to Luxembourg Gardens. So I walked DOWN the Champs Elysees on the shady side of the street, avoiding the sun, even at that hour. My clicking heels created a staccato beat that accompanied the early morning birdsong.
The sun was already warm, promising yet another sultry hot day. Blousy Parisian women "d'un certain âge", who might have stepped out of a movie set, were already on their knees, vigorously scrubbing their red door stoops. They grinned up at me 'knowingly' and bid me "bonjour" as I passed. I smiled back, and bid them a cheerful "bonjour" back again, allowing them their amorous fantasy of my 'nuit d'amour' in Paris!
The sun was already warm, promising yet another sultry hot day. Blousy Parisian women "d'un certain âge", who might have stepped out of a movie set, were already on their knees, vigorously scrubbing their red door stoops. They grinned up at me 'knowingly' and bid me "bonjour" as I passed. I smiled back, and bid them a cheerful "bonjour" back again, allowing them their amorous fantasy of my 'nuit d'amour' in Paris!
by kind courtesy of
Eventually the beautiful old horse chestnut trees that shaded the dusty, walking path across the road beckoned, so I crossed the street.
That morning I was accompanied by cheery birdsong, sunshine and the whisper of a breeze through those wonderful old trees. At the end of the Champs Elysees, I caught the early morning metro towards Luxembourg Gardens and our hotel.
That morning I was accompanied by cheery birdsong, sunshine and the whisper of a breeze through those wonderful old trees. At the end of the Champs Elysees, I caught the early morning metro towards Luxembourg Gardens and our hotel.
Donna was, thankfully, at the Pension when I got there, having been escorted 'home' by her dinner date. She looked both relieved and irritated to see me. And I surmised from her expression that she hadn't been impressed when I'd left the nightclub without her.
Since I was far too tired to coherently explain myself, I didn't even try. Instead, I used the bidet creatively to give myself a reverse shower. I then opted to air-dry my body on top of a towel on the bed, beneath the laziest ceiling fan ever made.
Since I was far too tired to coherently explain myself, I didn't even try. Instead, I used the bidet creatively to give myself a reverse shower. I then opted to air-dry my body on top of a towel on the bed, beneath the laziest ceiling fan ever made.
At dinner, the previous evening, Donna and I had loosely agreed to spend Canada Day (July 1) with Tom and his friend. We were to meet them in the queue outside the Louvre Museum. We did go there, after I'd reluctantly dressed. But the crowds and soaring temperatures convinced us that it was just too hot to stand in any line up - even one that led to the Mona Lisa. Besides, I was reasonably sure I never wanted to see Tom again.
by kind courtesy of
The heat was merciless and, although it was only lunchtime had exhausted us both. So we chose to return to the Pension, where we slept during the heat of the day. Our plan made perfect sense!
In the cool of our CANADA DAY evening, Donna and I 'celebrated' by washing our clothes in our tiny sink. Incredibly, they took less than half an hour to to dry on a make-shift clothes line strung across the room.
by kind courtesy of
http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxutz5rQ0E1r3c79uo1_500.jpg
In the cool of our CANADA DAY evening, Donna and I 'celebrated' by washing our clothes in our tiny sink. Incredibly, they took less than half an hour to to dry on a make-shift clothes line strung across the room.
by kind courtesy of
http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxutz5rQ0E1r3c79uo1_500.jpg
It was while writing postcards that I discovered my address book was missing. My camera was safe, but two rolls of used film were also missing. Those pictures documented my amazing week of activities in Scandinavia, along with my new friends, the sights I'd seen, and even photos of an elderly relative I'd probably never see again. I was beyond heartbroken! How could this have happened?
Mon Dieu!
Who would take such specific items?
NEXT WEEK!
PARIS - GERMANY
via LUXEMBOURG
Paris: The Difficult Decision
The Eiffel Tower
Luxembourg:
The Great Un-Welcome
The Not-So-Great Train Robbery
Germany:
The Great Un-Welcome
The Not-So-Great Train Robbery
Germany:
Mosel Wine Valley
Ancient Roman Ruins in Trier
Explosion in Trier
Trial and Tribulation in Koblenz
GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE
July 2-3 PARIS, FRANCE
Ancient Roman Ruins in Trier
Explosion in Trier
Trial and Tribulation in Koblenz
GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE
July 2-3 PARIS, FRANCE
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