Advertisement
Published: March 11th 2006
Edit Blog Post
It's fair to say I wasn't in the best of spirits when I arrived at my hostel. I't was raining a lot, getting dark and it was rush hour. I had also managed to cut my finger open somewhere on the metro, so I was bleeding everywhere.
The nervous energy I'd bult up over the last few weeks, along with grave warnings about pickpockets on every corner from my 'rough guide' had made me slightly paranoid about descending into the depths of the Metro, particuarly while attached to
une sac the size of a tank. Fortunately the journey to my hostel in the 'quartier latin' only required one change; unfortunately during the course of this journey I managed to get myself wedged into a corner behind a shed load of rush hour commuters with said tank. Seeing as the Metro doors open for about two seconds before they violently slam shut (to the accompaniment of an accordian blast) and the trains speeds off down the line, I was envisioning a difficult situation when it came to actually getting off. As it turned out, No one else was getting off at my stop. I definitley was though. I don't
think I took too many startled Parisian's out while launching myself at the exit doors, although I don't think one poor girl was so lucky. As I ploughed towards the platform she seemed to freeze up 'rabbit in the headlights' style and I almost succeeded in pushing her off the train.
Most of my time here has been spent aimlessly wandering. Though I have recently conquered my aversion to the metro, I would rather not waste my carnet of ten tickets. Anyway, were it not for the rain, exploring paris on foot would be ideal.
On Wednesday morning I found myself in the Notre Dame. Which, as it happens, is only a short walk from my hostel. A choir rehearsal was about to start; so, to rest my legs, I sat and watched for a while. Though it's hardly my favourite musical genre, I can honestly say it was one of the most breathtaking musical performances I have ever seen. The natural acoustics inside the cathedral are quite awe inspiring. I ended up staying for close to an hour. It's those sort of moments that I feel a bit jealous for those who actually believe in it all.
The rain was coming down in buckets on thursday: Rain meant a day at the Louvre. Anxiuos about the hordes of tourists predicted in my rough guide, I was pleasantly surprised to find almost no queues. Obviously it is not tourist season in Paris.
It's not that I wasn't impressed with the Louvre. On the contrary, stripped of it's enourmous art collection the interior alone is jaw dropping. It was on the whole though ,slightly disappointing. The problem, is that there is just far too much art. Visiting the Louvre is like trying to over-eat at a large buffet. The food is good at firs, but after a while you just feel sick; yet you've barely made a dent in to what's on offer. Certain works were indeed impressive, particuarly the French romantic paintings by the likes of Delacroix and David, many of which were improbably large. These, However,were the highlights. With much of it I struggled to maintain an interest after the first hour. After all how much of an interest can one take in 15th century northern european sculpture; if you've seen one you've seen them all, and believe me, the Louvre has them all. I
doesn't help, of course, that the majority if pre-modern art, at least all the stuff before impressionism, doesn't really interest me. I spent over three and a half hours in there, but most of that was spent wandering round admiring the decor, largely ignoring the art.
I visited Montmarte at the worst possible time. I was tired and bad tempered after my lengthy trip to the Louvre, and the weather had become even more miserable. The little squares and cobbled streets were still beautiful, even through the rain, but the wind had serious issues with my umbrella (and has now destroyed it completley). I persevered and climbed my way up the hill via the backstreets, stopping at a boulangerie for some croissant.Expecting to see the famed Paris skyline layed out before me when I reached the top, It turned out that it was much too hazy too see anything.
At the foot of the steps leading up to the cathedral I was snagged by a wrist vendor. My usual strategy of pretending not to understand english was too transparent, and I am much too polite too just ignore someone when spoken to. I need to toughen up. He
wanted 20 euro's for it, which he had no chance of getting. I thought it wise to give him something though, he had several friends hanging round. He got three euros and a few english coins (which I don't need).
I'm keeping the wristband, to remind me not to be so stupid again. Also, it is actually quite a nice wristband.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.058s; Tpl: 0.014s; cc: 9; qc: 19; dbt: 0.0306s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Mum
non-member comment
Great pictures James particularly Hotel Sully and artist in Luxembourg gardens and some good honest writing