paris final

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April 19th Continued...

I was entranced by the absolute beauty of the cemetery; the statues, the artwork on tombs, and the magnificent masoleums. I could not believe how different a cemetery in Paris is compared to one in Cedarburg; wide cobbled avenues, towering leafy trees, vine flowers climbing trelises over stone coffins. Some of the statues were so melencholy that it changed my mood of wonderment to a general feeling of sadness. To my surprise there were not many angels as I would have thought; the female statues were both young and old, bronze and stone. The whole place had an air of reverence and respect. One tomb had a bright mosaic depicting a bright orange sunrise or sunset with rays shooting out across the blue sky and purple clouds.

I was surprised at the amount of Romanesque type semi circled columns surrounding a tomb. Most of them were a bit ruined but that added a beautiful timeless elegance to the cemetery. I wandered on a stray black cat stalking through the tombs; a woman and her child stopped to watch the cat as it continued out onto the avenue and stretched out in a patch of sunshine.

I did not find Oscar Wilde's headstone or Jim Morrison's, not that I really know either one or really cared to find them, but I wanted to get pictures. The map of the cemetery was too hard to read and try as I might, I could not find either one. I did see some amazing masoleums; some had intricate stained glass (most glass windows were smashed), others were built to resemble mini cathedrals, and others were so large they required an iron fence with a gate surrounding it.

I was on my way out of the cemetery when a French dude came up to me and started talking to me in French. I tried to tell him I did not speak French and I felt a little uncomfortable with the whole situation; this was a prime spot for me to get mugged--quiet, not many people, tombs to hide behind. I was able to walk away quickly; unfortunately I wanted to get some more photos but went with my gut telling me to get out and onto the street. I did and felt instantly better. I think I would have been a mugging victim if I stayed or didn't leave as fast as I did. However, if this guy was really professional, he probably would have mugged me and not hesitated.

I took the Metro back to the Republic and walked down to what I thought was a grocery store. It took me several seconds of gaining my confidence before I actually went inside. Once in, I realized that it was a grocery store. I spotted a rent-a-cop type guard and felt a little wary since I do not speak French and if he suspected anything of me I could not explain I did nothing wrong. I spotted a mini refridgerator right before you had to pass through a little metal gate to get into the main grocery part. I picked out a cup of kiwi, a pasta salad with goat cheese and red peppers, a box of two wraps--a chicken caesar and chicken salad. I also bought a glass container of chocolate mousse which was the best mousse I have ever had in my entire life.



April 20th, 2007

After the amazing experience yesterday at the Pere Lachise cemetery, I decided to head over to another cemetery in the Monteparnasse district. I entered through the main gate and was rewarded with Simone de Beauviour abd Jean Paul Sartre. There were many little trinkets left on the tomb; I did not have anything really to leave and so I didn't. I was quite happy to know someone in some cemetery in Paris, we had just learned about Simone in my Women's Writing class and Sartre was one of the philosophers we studied a couple of years ago in Litarary Criticism. Where Pere Lachise cemetery had a certain garden beauty to it, Monteparnasse cemetery was like an artists studio. There was a huge bird type sculpture with wings and a orange beak.

I was able to get some really great shots of faces of the statues against blue sky and trees. I also stumbled upon the grave of Baudelaire--a poet and philosopher. Another tomb had little blue polished river rocks/plastic shaped as a heart with an 'M' in the middle. I could have spent hours in those Parisian cemeteries.

The last grave I visited was that of Charles Pigeon and his wife. It was along side one of the walls of the cemetery, it was so big you couldn't miss it. The tomb was shaped as a bed with a headboard and an angel on top; the angel held out a gas lamp. Charles Pigeon was the inventor of the non-exploding gas lamp. What makes this grave so interesting is that Charles and his wife had statues carved of them and placed them on the grave bed. So in this cemetery there is a bed with a man and a woman laying in it, and the man is half-sitting with a book in his hand. I will admit that it was more than a little creepy.

After the morning cemetery walk, I took the metro to Cite and ate at my favorite Parisian restaurant, Father and Son Restaurant near Norte Dame. I had a Roma panini and a chocolate tarte. Afterwards I went back to the hotel and then took the Metro to the Opera Garnier stop. I took several pictures all around the outside before heading in. Once inside I learned that the rehersal was still going on. I decided not to miss this opportunity to see the Opera, even though the main theatre was dark. I bought my ticket and started exploring. The lobby was absolutely grand; I was reminded of the grand staircase in Titanic, only marble instead of wood and with higher ceilings. There were magnificent wooden carvings on each of the bottom of the staircase of women holding these immense candleabras. Surrounding me were three stories of marble brilliance. I headed downstairs to wait for the crowd to die down on the grand staircase. I was rewarded with a beautiful fountain carved into the wall and floor. I turned down another hallway and found a circluar room filled with mirrors on the walls as well as the ceiling. It was absolutely amazing to see.

I went back upstairs to wander through the most ornately decorated hallway I have ever seen. It was almost as wonderful as the pictures I have seen of Versailles; and it was the closest I would get to Versailles. I walked down the immense hallway, carved gold chandliers hung every few feet, a mural on the ceiling depicting what looked like a Biblical scene. Further down the entire ceiling was covered in brightly painted murals--none of them faded or darkened by smoke from candles. On one side of the hall were floor-length windows that lit the hall with natural light. I wished I had a friend or boyfriend to pretend I was there for a performance and we would dance our way down the hall. I didn't have one so I took pictures instead.

I got some good pictures of the grand staircase but the lighting was really bad and with a flash it altered the actual colors of the marble to a washed out white color. I went upstairs and found the small wooden doors opening to the box seats of the theatre. The theatre was indeed, dark. I snuck into a box seat and watched, along with other people in boxes around me, as the crews set up backgrounds on the stage below. I could dimly make out the Chegall painted monstrosity of a ceiling before I left. I found a small library with one of those wheeled ladders and hundreds of books and little dioramas of opera sets.

I left the Opera satisfied with my self-guided tour. It was at that theatre where the Phantom of the Opera was originally concieved on account of the rumor of an underground lake lurking beneath. I wandered around the Opera and stumbled upon a very weird restaurant called The American Dream Multiplexe. It was a two storey black facade building with neon lights and life-size figures of Elvis, a highway cop (Chips?) and the two Blues Brothers. It was a nice sight for my foreign-wery eyes.

After the Opera I went to the Rue de Rivoli to do some of my last minute shopping for souveniers. I bought a bunch of Eiffel Tower keychains, a mini box of purfumes for Katie, a stylish black purse that says 'Paris', a bag for mum with a cat on it, a t-shirt for Alex with 'Paris' written on it and a t-shirt for Aiden and a toy for Rosie. I dropped the souveniers off at the hotel and reluctantly went to the Louvre.

My experience with the British Museum in London completely changed my outlook on major museums--they are far more trouble then they are worth. I got to the Louvre about late afternoon/early evening. There was not a long line to get in and so I waited to get into the glass pyramid. Inside it was quieter but not deserted; I went to get a ticket and learned that 26 and under students are free after 6pm on Fridays. Unfortunately did not have a student ID or drivers license on me but the woman was nice enough to let me in. I went downstairs first, to the basement and walked around a medieval fortress. I made my way up and saw Etruscan artifacts and mummies. I figured that I would get the two main sights out of the way first and then take a leisurely walk around the museum. I saw the Venus de Milo, which was not very impressive at all. Then I headed over to where the Mona Lisa was hanging. In the room there were mounds of people piling up on one another to see the painting. A rope was stretched out about ten feet in front of the smallish painting. No cameras, phone cameras or video cameras allowed. A mean looking security guard paced back and forth in front of Mona Lisa, pretty much blocking everyone's view every few seconds.

When I finally made it up to the rope I took one look and thought 'Wow, now I know why some people think the Mona Lisa was Da Vinci in drag.' It was very ugly--I think the reproductions in textbooks are touched up a bit cause the woman was ugly! I moved out of the way soon enough but not enough to make me less stressed or hot. I wanted to get out; people kept stopping in front of me and I got so angry. I left the Louvre vowing never to return.

It was my last night in Paris and I still hadn't had a crepe. Since I didn't eat any dinner, I went to a McDonalds on the Rue de Rivoli to get a cheeseburger or something. I stood in line for 7 minutes without getting any closer to the register. I said forget it and left. I tried to find other fast food places around but they were all closed! It was a Friday night! I walked inside this cafe, thinking they would have a cooler with some food that I could take out. As soon as I stepped inside I realized that this was a fancy cafe--linen napkins and tablecloths--and I was clearly not dressed the part. A few couples turned to look at me and before I could turn to leave a waiter came up to me and said something in French. I told him I spoke English and asked if there was take-away. He understood and showed me outside on the sidewalk there was a take-away counter for me to order from. I thanked him and ordered a chocolate crepe. I got it and headed happily to the Metro to get back to the hotel and eat my crepe. I was hot and tired and wanted to eat my crepe. It took forever to get back and on the Metro a guy said something to me in French but I thought he was talking to his friend and I just ignored him but as soon as I stepped off the train he yelled something else.

I ate my crepe and it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted in my entire life. I went out to get some McDonalds afterward and packed for my ride home. I checked out fine and took the Metro the next day to the Eurostar station. I had my own seat and it was not crowded. When I got back to London I had to buy a pass to ride the Tube to Euston station and from there I went to Chester. It sounds so quick here but in reality it took a long time and traveling from Metro to train to Tube to train and then walk the several miles uphill to get back to my dorm house was almost intolerable. But I made it and I wouldn't change my experiences in Paris for anything.

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