On September 23rd I found that it is indeed possible to book a reservation on an airline that is in a foreign country and have it work out well. It is always my fear that something will happen to mess up my plans if I leap feet first into territory I am unfamiliar like a company called "Easyjet." I don't know, but with a name like Easyjet it seems like it might not be so easy or even safe. But I rationalized that if Rick Steves gives this airline a thumbs up it must be legit! So, prior to leaving home, I booked it as transportation from Venice to Paris.
Since Carol and I only had three and a half days in Paris to make the most of it we needed to get there fast. Flying was our best option. I worried that my suit cases, one 26 inch and one rolling backpack, would be overweight and I'd get extra charges at the time of checking in so I mailed about 4.2 kg of non essentials home from Venice. Well, Easyjet does live up to it's name. It is nice, has generous overhead bins to fit carry on bags, and the crew communicated in several languages. Other than an hour flight delay, we got to our destination in plenty of time to began exploring Paris. Then strangely, in the cab ride to our abode in the Bastille district, the little French I know began to surface and the song, from South Pacific, "Dites-Moi Pourquoi" began to play in my head. How wonderful to have that part of the brain triggered as the sights of Paris were coming into view.
Oh Paris, what can I say, it IS grand, beautiful and there is just too much to see in one short visit. In three days we navigated the metro quite easily, took two excursions, saw a few of the top ten things that all guide books say is necessary to see and I fell into bed each night with painful feet and exhaustion. I don't recommend seeing a city of this grandeur and size the way we did. However, with each of us bringing a wish list, it seemed important we at least try!
Our first plan was to hit Musee d' Orsay to see Paris through the eyes of Manet and Monet. Then we hoped to pop over to the Louvre to just get a feel for the enormity of it's collection which, according to a guide, could house some ridiculous number of Olympic size swimming pools it is so large. We quickly settled into our second floor walk up, yes NO Elevator, dragging our 18 kg suitcases up 4 flights of stairs, threw on our tennis shoes, grabbed a yummy quiche at the corner boulangere, and found the nearest metro. I had no reservation that traveling by subway would be our quickest and most efficient mode of transportation, Carol was not so easily convinced. But, armed with a three day pass, a map, and a wish and a prayer, I forged ahead and between the two of us, we found our way through the bowels of Paris. The trains to our delight are clean, fast, and frequent. It is a very good way to get around the city.
Well, our plan to knock out two museums in an afternoon was thwarted by a labor strike which had closed both institutions. We bought the two day Paris pass anyway because it seemed to offer so much for one fair price, or so we hoped, and the Louvre and Orsay "could reopen any day" we were told. So we tearfully passed the closed Museums and headed across the Seine to walk the Tuileries and waited in a "skip the line" (armed with our passes) entry into the Orangerie art museum. After waiting in the chill of the fading afternoon sun for 45 minutes, (not so skip the line I thought) the quiet and warmth of the museum lulled me nearly to sleep. Exhaustion from days of travel in Italy and rising today at 5 am was taking it's toll. Then I realized that I was traveling with someone who had a whole city on her agenda and she was already upset about her favorite museums being closed. I couldn't cave so early in the trip. So I gathered what strength I had left and we forged ahead down the famous Champs Elysees and discovered beautiful buildings and trees filled with autumn colored leaves fluttering in the partly sunny afternoon. This cast a magical light against the glass cupolas of the Grand Palais and the gilded entry of the Petit Palais both built for the 1889 Exposition Universelle or Worlds Fair.
Since we had these "expensive passes" we scurried across the street to find that they were no good at the Grand Palais so we opted for the free museum housed in the Petite Palais across the street where there were where no lines. Both the building and the exhibits were beautiful and overwhelming in size and proportion. It wasn't long before the music from Les Miz played in my head as I observed the larger than life paintings of the French Revolution, "Do you hear the people sing" seemed to echo from the walls. These must have been the inspiration for Victor Hugo's book and subsequent play. All the characters in the musical were depicted in this moving painting.
Due to the announcement that museum would soon be closing, Sore feet be damned, we forged forged onward to at least get to the top of the Arc de Triomphe that we could see looming somewhat close ahead calling our names...."Come, I am not far away!" The Arc is so large it would look close from Italy! Yet, it wasn't close at all! But, after several bench breaks for my screaming feet, we finally made it and caught the elevator to the top! Yes, it really was worth the agony it took to get there. The city was all laid out below and seemed even larger from that vantage point. All awe and inspiration aside, all I could think was how in the hell am I going to see what this city has to offer in just three days and do it with feet that were not prepared to carry me along. But mostly I was wondering how I would make it back to our rented apartment without screaming the whole way!
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