Paris Days 3: Death And Relaxation

Listening: And if I should falter, would you open your arms out to me?

I was the last one out of bed on my third day in Paris. Bag guy rattled bags again, and there were people mulling about, but I was feeling rather laxed. It didn't matter though. I was still out the door by ten and on my way to check out some more sights.

When I opened up my map, I thought to myself that I would like to go to the Louvre. It sounded like a good idea at the time, so I headed off in that direction. Right before I got to the Louvre, literally thirty steps, I was sidetracked by a boulangerie/pastissier. I hadn't had anything to eat yet, so I decided to stop in for a little spot of breakfast. And that's where I found absolute perfection in Paris.

For breakfast, I had a burre croissant, a fraise tarte, and a cafe creme. I sat in that cafe for an hour eating my pastries, sipping my coffee and reading On Rue Tatin. I think that that was one of my favorite moments in Paris. It was a Sunday morning so everything was calm and still around the city. There weren't as many people mulling about and bumping into each other. There were tourists, people in the tourist service industry and some restauranteurs. That's it. The bustle was simply hushed.


The Best Breakfast Ever

After a leisurely bit of time, I headed off to the Louvre. I mean, I was in Paris. How could I not go to the Louvre?


Louvre From The Back Side


The Infamous Pyramid

So there I am, right at the entrance to the Louvre, and I think to myself, "You know, I really don't feel like going into another museum right now." So I skip it. That's right. I skipped the Louvre. A couple of people that I have talked to since have thought that I was insane. I admit it. It could be insane, but this is, in fact, my vacation. I'm going to do what I want to do. I guess, for me, that means eating an hour long breakfast and skipping the Louvre. I felt no real need to look at old art. I have heard that the Mona Lisa is just a little bit bigger than a standard piece of paper. So, really, what was the use?

Instead, I kept walking through the Jardin du Carrousel and the Jardin des Tulleries on my way to the Champs-Elysees and the Arc de Triomphe. That's where I found some interesting sculptures.


I Find This Mildly Erotic


"I Can't Believe I Slept With Her."


Jardin des Tulleries


Arc de Triomphe


The Kind Of Small Eternal Flame At The Arc de Triomphe

From there, I caught the train all of the way over to Montparnasse to go see the catacombes. It had started to rain a little, and waiting in line, I shared my umbrella with a Spanish girl. We shared the umbrella, but didn't say much. I don't know why I didn't strike up a conversation, but I didn't. I've been lame like that for most of the trip.

Once we got into the catacombes, it was a self-guided tour. When I got into the tunnels, there was the Spanish girl in front of me and a family of about five in back of me. The kids in the family were particularly annoying. After about ten minutes, the Spanish girl was gone, as was the family. I was alone in the dark tunnels of the catacombes.

It's an interesting feeling being alone with that much death. It was eerie. I looked at the bones and at the skulls, knowing full well that these were actual Parisians who had died and their bones had either been buried there or their remains had been transported from another cemetary. Eventually, I caught up with some people, only to lose them again and to be alone with death some more. At some points, the rain seeped through the rock dripping on my head, catching me by surprise.


The Beginnings Of The Quarry Tunnels


Street Signs Letting The Public Know Which Parts Of The Catacombes They Were In


Upclose And Personal With The Dead


Alter Among The Bones


Bones That Had Been Transferred To The Catacombes

After spending a few hours in the catacombes, I was ready for some fresh air. So, I walked over to the Jardin du Luxembourg. Now, this was a park. There were a number of different sections. There was a place where there were people playing chess, a place where there were pony rides, a place for kids to play on a playground, tennis courts, plenty of green space, places to sit and relax, and places where kids could rent miniature sailboats and play with them on a big fountain. It was a fantastic place. The sun was shining and there could have been nothing better.

What I wanted to do was to write a few postcards, but the thing was that I didn't have any. So, I wandered all over the Jardin looking for them. Eventually, I left the Jardin to go get them. On the way back in, I noticed a photo exhibit on the outside of the fence of the Jardin du Luxembourg. Here are a few of my favorite photos from the exhibition.







After that, I checked out the exhibition, I kicked it back into the Jardin, plopped my ass down on a chair and started writing postcards in the Parisian sunshine. Oh, man, was it awesome. I sat there, wrote and read some more. It was the best use of an afternoon thus far in my trip.

When they closed the park at seven, the police kicked everyone out, blowing their whistles and motioning to the door. Actually, I didn't know that the Jardin was closing until I saw the guy motioning to the gate. I just heard whistles blowing and was like, "The hell?!?"

From the Jardin, I went to an internet cafe to try to pin down accomodations for Lyon. No such luck. What I thought would happen before I left Boston was happening. In the smaller cities in France, I was having a hard time finding accomodations on line with such short notice. It's the price that you pay for flexibility though. With an hour and a half of internet time and no luck, it was time to give up on it for the day. So, to dinner... Ahh dinner.

I found myself at a random Italian-ish spot in the Latin Quarter for dinner. I tried to find about five places mentioned in Michelin, but they were all closed due to the fact that it was Sunday. That sucked something fierce. I didn't want to eat Italian influenced foods in Paris. I wanted to eat French food that wasn't touristy. This place worked out though.



The first course was a plate of thin sliced swordfish dressed with citrus, salt, pepper, and olive oil. It came with a chive creme fraiche, which was just delicious. The swordfish was tender and almost melted in your mouth, while the counterplay of the citrus and the creme fraiche really worked well. I think I could have had the creme fraiche by itself, but that may be interpreted as disgusting.



The second course was a roasted rabbit in a tomato sauce over penne. The rabbit was perfectly cooked and, though very Italian, really hit the spot. It's kind of like right now, a real juicy burger would hit the spot, but I wouldn't dare order it. I'll have plenty of time to order that when I get home. The acidity of the tomato sauce was just something that I was looking for. Whether I choose to admit it or not, I probably was jonesing for some pasta and red sauce.



For dessert, I asked the waiter what their best dessert was, and he pointed out two chocolate desserts and the one that I ordered which was kind of a caramel custard bread pudding. I have to admit that it was very good. It wasn't something that I would normally order, but I felt like it was a good finish to the meal. I was very happy with it.

When I got back to the hostel, on my way to dropping my bag off in my room, I noticed that there were a handful of people hanging out on the patio outside the rooms. So, I dropped my bag off, got a beer from reception and joined them. We talked about this and that, movies and the city of Paris, Prague and cooking. All sorts of things. It turned out that one of the guys had been staying in my room for the past few nights and I didn't even know. This is also where I met this girl, Jade, who would become a person who I connected with pretty well. After three beers and about a hundred conversations, it was time for bed. It was nice to socialize with people again on my journey. It's so hard to meet people when you're bouncing from place to place and they're doing the same thing. It's just so hard to take that first step, but sometimes you don't even need to try.