Last Day in Paris: Adieu to the Arc de Triumphe, a boat ride down the Seine and a midnight climb up the Eiffel

Arc de Triumph


This is part of a travelogue, chronicling my twenty-one day trip to Europe last summer. 

 On our last day in Paris, Derek and I walked down the Champ Elysees to the Arc de Triumph.  We were on a street corner, looking at our map when  a young French woman approached us and asked us where we were going.  She then walked us most of the way.  She said she was going that way to deliver a letter anyway.  I thought, her mailbox is awfully far away from her apartment.  Between you and me I think she was just being nice.

Stairwell up the Arc de Triumphe

 I can not emphasis enough how valuable getting a Paris pass is.  We saved hours waiting in line.  We got to bypass everyone and go straight to the top.  This was true for all the museums as well.  The only things that the pass didn't cover was Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower.

I had no idea how huge the Arc de Triumphe was.  I got a lot of cute bookmarks from the gift shop on top.

That evening Derek and I went on a boat ride.  While we waited on the Seine river for it to commence I took a few more photos of the Eiffel Tower.  It is so impressive, I couldn't stop snapping.  Every angle seemed to demand I preserve the moment with my camera. 

I'd like to see this guy get in his little car.

Scenes along the Seine

The following photos are what we saw on the boat ride along the Seine.

As we floated under a bridge.

It was hard to keep track of what the recorded narrator said about each building on the ride because it was repeated in several different languages: German, English, French, Chinese, Japanese etc.

 When we finally returned it was around ten o clock.  As you can see it is still light.  Summer days are  very long in Paris.  We got in line to get to the top of the Eiffel.  The wait was over two hours.

The tower in the evening, around eleven pm.

 It was a long arduous wait, but we arrived at the top of the Eiffel at precisely midnight.  My camera didn't take the most brilliant photos of Paris at night, but I think they have their own special appeal.

At the foot of the Eiffel looking straight up.

At the second level of the tower.

Midnight on top of the Eiffel.

By this time I am more than a little wiped out.

Paris at night or abstract art?  Maybe both!

Paris at midnight

Elevator going down to the second level.

 We found out at the second level that we could climb down the stairs to the ground.  Derek and I eagerly got out of the elevator line and began climbing down one of the legs of the tower.  Or rather, we ran down.  I wasn't sure when the subway trains stopped running.  I didn't relish the idea of getting a taxi.  Taxis are the only negative experience on my European trip.  The drivers really are a bunch of crooks.  The only reason you should take a taxi is if you have money to burn.

Running down the stairwell of the Eiffel

Derek and I sprinted to the closest subway station, a block away, only to find ourselves ensconced among crowds of people also waiting  for the train.  Silly little east Texan.  Paris stays open long after midnight.

I saw many scenes on the subway I would have liked to capture with my camera.  One was the pole I was grabbing with twenty other hands.  It was such a cool image:  all these disembodied hands and arms going off in all different directions and angles.

The Eiffel Tower at midnight

Another scene I'll always remember was a couple of young French girls who were seated next to where I was standing.  The one girl was dominating the conversation chatting away a mile a minute as the train wound its way up to the near northern section of the city where my hostel was.

Suddenly, at one stop, she jumped up with an exclamation. She and her friend pushed their way out of the crowd barely before the doors closed.  Evidently they were not intending to disembark here.  By the girl's breathless and excited laughter I knew there must be somebody they knew outside on the platform that they weren't expecting to see.  Or maybe they came upon their stop more quickly than they realized.  

 I looked out the window and saw the object of their excitement.  Or objects. Two young men were there waiting for  them.  I wish I could adequately describe this girl and how she laughed as she made her way through the crowd to get to her male friends.  To me it was such a charming picture of Parisian youth culture.
 

Exhausted and barely able to stand, Derek and I walked the few blocks from the subway to our hostel.  We were starving, but what was open?  Across the street from our place was a Turkish falafel shop.  We went in and for only a couple of Euros plowed through plates piled high with lamb and french fries, washed down with coke. 

While I was standing at the counter waiting for my food, a group of young people sauntered in.  A pretty girl with flowing curly hair stood next to me and grinned hugely at me.  At this point in time, she would not have passed anybody's sobriety test.  She said a few words in French to me but quickly surmised I didn't understand and switched to English.  The remainder of the time in the restaurant she spoke English to everybody, including the cook, whom she joined behind the counter, insisting that she help him.

As I sat down at my table and ate, I thought, "That's great.  This girl can speak fluent English drunk and I can't speak comprehensible French sober.  I blame it on our educational system."

At two in the morning, Derek and I dragged ourselves up the four flights of stairs to our rooms and collapsed onto our beds.  We didn't bother changing clothes.  We had to get up in two hours to catch our plane to Barcelona.  

Goodbye Paris.  I hope we'll meet again one day.

Previous posts of my European Trip:

Another Day in Paris: Arc de Triumphe

Paris First Day

Switzerland :Gimmelwald and Murren

Third Day in Switzerland

Montreux, Switzerland

Milan

Venice 

Pisa and Cinque Terre 

Florence 

Rome 


 
Further Links:

Paris Pass

Paris Museum Pass 

Eiffe's Tower by Jill Jonnes 

Paris: First day

The following post is from an email I sent family and friends while in Europe.

Window in our hostel room

  We flew in to Paris a bottle of shampoo, bottle of lotion, and tube of sunscreen poorer. Going through security in the Basel airport, the man at Air France looked sadly at me and said "ne pass pas."   I didn't even think about the security.  If we had taken the train we would have been allowed to keep our humble articles of hygiene.  Oh well.  As usual, Derek got patted down before being allowed to board the plane.  I told him the security personnel take one look at his pecs and can't resist. (My, what beeg muzzles you have, beeg boy!)

If Paris was the first place we had visited on our Europe trip, I would have gotten back on the plane and flown home.  The metro into town was crazy.  When we got onto the street I couldn't believe how crowded it was.  Worse than New York.  We struggled our way through the throng and finally found our hostel.  A very old building with uneven stairs and a sloping floor in our room.

 View outside our room.  Next to the McDonalds is a Turkish falafel shop.  I had my last meal in Paris there.  Wonderful way to end the trip.

I was feeling very discouraged, when a miracle happened.  We left our hotel and looked for a place to eat.  Next door was a pastry shop.  We entered...into a shop?  No...a heavenly place where people go to know what food truly tastes like.

I thought the Italians knew how to cook.  They know how to cook pasta.  The French win baking hands down.  Derek ate a chicken and ham quiche and some magical concoction that involved bread, melted cheese and more ham.  Oh my goodness!!!  The food melted in our mouths, to coin a phrase.

Our room.  The shower flooded the tiny bathroom the first time one of us showered. The shower nozzle was a rabid maniac possessing a demonic soul.  We learned to keep a firm grip on it while we showered or it would flail about like a snake on steroids.

(And flood the bathroom.)

 I had a salad that contained more ingredients than I could count.  Who knew a salad could be a three course meal? We were so full afterward, we waddled our way back to the Metro to go downtown.  But not before I helped steer a Russian couple in the right direction to their subway.  Traveling has done things to me.  One hour in Paris and I am already helping give others directions.

More photos outside out hostel

 And by the way, I don't know where people think Parisians are rude.  I still have two days to go and things could change, but all the French I have met have been very friendly.

Case 1:  After we got off the train from the airport that took us to downtown Paris,  we had to change trains underground. We were clueless.  Our directions said to go to train two on level two.  What level were we on?  Where's level two?  Up or down?  

I asked a woman next to me in my execrable French for directions.  She answered me in her execrable English which left us both confused.  Finally, she said, "Eh.  I take next train."

 She then grabbed me by the arm and escorted us up two flights of stairs and down a labyrinth of halls, through a turnstile (using her own ticket for herself-that cost her a ride) and brought us to the right train.  The whole time she gave us advice:  "Hold purse close.  Wherez map?  Keep. Put everything in purse, hold close etc.."

   She looked at me and smiled.  "OK?"

    We all said, "Merci beaucoup!"  

She said, "Cool!"  and walked back to her train, which I'm sure she missed and had to take the next one.

Case 2:  That night when we returned to the subway to go down 
town we were trying to figure out how to buy our tickets from a machine (we had metro passes but they started the next day.)  

Two young men came up behind us and asked us where we wanted to go.  They then held our hand, figuratively speaking, and walked us through the whole procedure.  Then off they went after they helped us.

"Merci beacoup!"  we called after them.

Legion of Honor museum.  Interesting to see how many Americans were awarded it:  Generals Pershing, MacArthur, and Eisenhower to name a few.

Case 3:  We're getting on the train.  A man had watched us study the map.  "You want to go where?"

We told him.  "Get off this train and go to the other side." 

"Merci beaucoup!"

Street next to Musee d'Orsay below.  In the distance, on the right is the bakery where Derek and I bought our lunch.  Next to that shop was a tiny store where I bought a couple of t-shirts.  I was dressed too warmly so I bought them to wear.  They had no dressing room but the lady who worked there brought two racks of clothes together and I changed behind them.  I'm not sure I would have gotten away with that in the U.S. but "Vive la France!"

Others helped us find the Eiffel Tower.  Interestingly, nobody knows what you mean when you say "Eiffel Tower".  They say "Tour en Fer".  Of course our horrible pronunciation probably didn't help.

In the Legion of Honor Museum

After seeing the most awesome Cathedral in the world, Notre Dame-and that's saying a lot because we've seen St. Peter's Basilica in Rome and the Duomo in Milan- and listening to a concert in front of Notre Dame, we made our way to the "Tour en  Fer".  We wanted to see it at night.  It was worth it.  When the lights first come on, they sparkle like a huge Christmas tree for several minutes before settling down and glowing in the night.  Can't describe it.  Gorgeous! (I don't have any photos  of Notre Dame or the Eiffel Tower for this post because I forgot to bring my camera that evening. However, I took photos when I returned to those places.  I'll show them in future posts.)

Legion of Honor Museum

 At 11 PM we returned to the dreaded subway, although we were feeling more confident at this time.  Our tickets had expired and we had no more change.  Ethan was all for crawling under the turn stile.  Lisa was considering it.  I told them to stay there.  I ran up to level ground and looked around.  There was a gift store a block away on the corner.  I ran to the store, blindly picked ten postcards (only 2 euros, a steal!)  Brought them to the clerk and said, "Please give me change in coins, I need them for the subway."

Louvre across the Seine

The man behind the counter was a cutie and he knew it. He said, "Only for you because you are zoooooo zweeet!!!"

I said, "Thank you soooooo much!!"

He said, "You are welcome zoooooo much!"

Playground on the Seine

 I ran back down the street, down the stairs, to the subway where Lisa, Ethan and Derek were waiting for me.  We bought our tickets and prayed there were still trains running.  There were and we got home safe and sound and collapsed in our beds.  

This morning we filled up on croissants and excellent coffee and are on our way to the Musee d'Orsay and maybe the Louvre, depending on how we feel after the first museum.  At least Derek and I are.  Lisa and Ethan are spending the day at Paris Disney.  

Riverwalk by the Seine.  

Before going to the museum we found a small bakery shop down the street from the museum.  Derek got some kind of ham and cheese concoction and I got a baguette filled with three different kinds of cheeses:  Brie, Swiss, some hard cheese that was incredible, topped off with lettuce and tomato.  This baguette was about a foot long so I told Derek he could have what I didn't finish.

Didn't happen.  I ate the whole thing.  I couldn't stop.  Will I ever eat this well again after I leave France?  Doubtful.  Need to savor what I can.

 Like Venice, honeymooners like to place their locks on the bridges that cross the Seine and throw the key into the river.

After the museum, Derek and I walked up and down the Seine, talking and enjoying the scenery.  A woman walked by us, stopped suddenly, and acted surprised.  She picked up a golden ring off the sidewalk and looked at us.  "Yourz?"  she asked.

Luckily I had already read about this scam.  A person pretends to find a golden ring and you both agree to sell it and split the difference.  The catch is, you have to give them money as collateral.  Yeah, right.

I said, "No thanks" in my most sardonic tone and we walked on.

Musee d'Orsay.  It used to be a train station.  This is where the French Impressionist art is kept.  There was only one Manet.  The rest were on exhibition in Venice.  Grrr...

The Tuileries Garden.  It is across the Seine from the Musee d'Orsay and sandwiched in-between the Louvre and the Orangerie Museum where Monet's "Water Lillies"  paintings are kept.

Derek and I spent a good bit of the afternoon sitting in the Tuileries garden.  There's hundreds of scenic spots to just sit and breath in the garden scents, people watch and just enjoy the peaceful environment.

Derek told me that just sitting and talking for hours with me was his favorite part of our trip.  I think he enjoyed both of us being alone for a change.

 Me at the Tuileries

Scenes from the Tuileries

The Louvre

The entrance is through the glass pyramid.

After spending most of the afternoon at the Tuileries, I told Derek that I wanted to see what we could of the Louvre before it closed.  We had a two day pass but I knew the Louvre was big and we would need to see what we could today.  

 My son, the ham.  He just can't resist.

We had less than two hours but we managed to reach the Mona Lisa.  She's a very popular lady.  We worked our way through the tight mass of tourists and got our pictures taken in front of her.

It was strange.  I've seen so many prints of this painting that I had to remind myself that this time I was viewing the original.

Moi in front of the Mona Lisa or "Gioconda"

 Derek in front of the Mona Lisa

And the lady by herself.

Incredible first day.  We didn't see Lisa and Ethan until extremely late.  We all slept soundly in our little room with the uneven floor and flooded bathroom.