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Published: November 19th 2012
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The Louvre
compulsory tourist shot July 27th
A much cooler sleep with fewer mosquitos last night, I was awake in time to say goodbye to Matthew before he left for work. It’s a pity we couldn’t see more of each other as I always enjoy the conversations about travel, music and everything, but since I’m flying out of Paris on Sunday I couldn’t really stay here (Netherlands) for the weekend.
George hit me a few last times, to his own great amusement and then he, Bev, and I headed out to the train station.
Saw a giant bike storage thing (this is the Netherlands after all) and then I said goodbye and was on the train to Gouda, from there on the train to Rotterdam and now; after a brief stop where I bought this new notebook (oh good grief! I am a travel diary person now aren’t I) I am on the train to Brussels, which is PACKED!! Especially after the half empty commuter trains I’ve been riding this morning and the last couple of days.
I’m on the way to Paris and the plan is; see a few things today (and probably buy see music), and then go to Versailles
Eiffel Tower
not so conventional tourist shot tomorrow (I booked a ticket online last night).
~Later~
On the Paris train, was a moment of confusion, as Brussels seems to have roughly 3,475 different major train stations and because I ordered my ticket off a Dutch site it listed the station as “Brussels Midi” whereas nearly all the signage on the platform marked it as “Brussels Zuid” …why can’t we just call things the same thing? Why don’t we call Germany “Deutschland”? Why don’t we call Croatia “Hrvatska”? and why doesn’t everybody call us New Zealand? Etc etc…
Anyhoo, I gave the Belgian chocolate industry a miss, it was tempting but expensive, I’m not hungry and I can’t be bothered hauling it around in the heat until such time as I’m feeling peckish!
With the Paris train they actually have people checking tickets before you get in, which is much better as you don’t get the whole “oh, which carriage am I in? Are seats reserved?” etc etc
The train ride was pretty uneventful, no real signage on the platform to tell you that you’re at Gare Du Nord, but I guess they’re like; “everyone knows who we are!” and for myself, I’d
been there before so I recognised it.
The hostel should have been easy to find but was somewhat complicated by the fact that the Paris streets seem to occasionally stop in one place and then start up in seemingly a different place.
It is raining a bit but it is so hot that I was sweating like a horse… or glowing like a lady or some such.
~Laterer~
The hostel seems pretty flash; it will obviously get some street noise being so central, but I’m hoping that being on the 4th floor will help reduce that.
Paris is as beautiful as ever, though crowded and still smelling vaguely of urine in some quarters. The people in Paris are also beautiful but unfortunately a lot of them act as if they are very aware of it.
Big queues at the Louvre so I settled for a wander around the building at Jardin De Tuileries, then I decided to meander along to the Eiffel Tower; I get the impression that many people do that via subway or bus, which seems a pity as it’s only a 30-40 minute walk, pretty much flat and with some nice views of the Seine and several nice museums.
I got to the Eiffel Tower, saw a massive queue and thought “oh well, I guess I saw it last time” but then I realised that that was the queue for the people who were too lazy (or possibly too disabled) to use the stairs… the line for the stairs was nice and short.
I met an American couple on the way up the tower, I took some photos for them, they took some for me…everybody wins!
The views were tres bien as always… well I say “as always” this is only my 2nd time up here… so yeah, I guess thus far it is “as always”
I’m happy that so far, people have been speaking to me in French! I don’t understand EVERY word that comes out of their mouths but I generally get the gist.
One great idea the Parisians have gone with is to place chairs all around the fountains in the gardens so that people can sit down for a minute, possibly with a coffee or a crack pipe for a nice bit of people/fountain watching.
The music store at the Louvre is gone, and I should have known it would be as it was a Virgin Megastore (free plug for a dead retailer) and I know that all the VMs in the UK had folded. Will ask at the hostel if there’s another good one around, I need my Gainsbourg fix dammit!
Now where did I put my crack pipe? Hmmm fountain.
~Laterer~
Well I was going to write nice things about the lack of beggars and panhandlers around but then a bastards-worth of them descended upon the crowds,t rying to sell crap to everyone.
This is definitely one thing I WON’T miss about Europe, and since I’m going back to NZ soon (like in 2 days) I should maybe list things that I won’t miss so that I won’t feel so bad about leaving (and I do feel bad)
- the Olympics: oh I know it’ll be on tv and discussed at the water coolers in NZ but over here it’s a tangible presence and I’m sick of it… well I mean I like the Olympics themselves, but enough hype can putrefy anything.
- Sweating: Yep, putting a positive spin on going home for winter. I’ve loved the water here (maybe not so much in the UK) but the whole thing of sweating all night is not tons of fun.
- Toilets are free!!! Yeah I don’t believe I’ve ever been to a train station, mall or burlesque house in NZ where I’ve had to part with cash for a slash.
- Being around people who know that a kiwi is a bird! Almost every time I’ve identified myself as ‘kiwi’ someone will say “oh like the fruit” in a way that suggests this is the obvious and only possibility… don’t they know we named ourselves after a half-blind flighless bird that is steadily becoming extinct… wow that is not really saying much for us is it?
- Room to move: Yes, NZ has more sheep than people, yes we have a grinning idiot for a prime minister who will most likely drive more people away, and yes we have towns so small that all you need to classify yourself as a town, is to have a pub… but after going to some crazily busy and heavily populated cities (which is -at the time- exciting of course) it’ll be nice to go back somewhere that CAN’T field enough people to keep a metro/underground completely packed with people every few minutes!
- And on a similar topic, having my own shower, my own bed, and not having to deal with assholes who can’t seem to process the idea: “I’m going back to a shared accommodation at 2 or 3am… maybe I SHOULDN’T speak loudly or turn on the lights”
~Latererer~
Heard a NZ girl at the hostel tonight; normally hearing the accent would be enough to make me try to strike up conversation, but not tonight. Maybe it’s because I’m knackered from walking half the day, maybe just because I’ve had people to talk to the last week or so, but I suspect it’s also an ‘end of trip’ thing, “I’m going home soon, I don’t have to talk to anyone. Good night!
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