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phineasjonesso, like, a while ago i went to europe? and i was going to write about it? well... i finally started. seemed more interesting than washing the dishes. no, i'm lying, i actually washed the dishes first. but anyway, for the nutty few who assured me they were interested...
day one. the longest day.
i seem to only get worse at flying the more i do it. this was my 11th international flight. and i was a bit of a wreck. i don’t think the increased fear was really related to any of the semptember 11 stuff… though we noticed and politely dealt with the increased security at logan. i don’t even really do the white-knuckle thing. i just sit quietly and make myself ill with visions of what could go wrong. if a crash were imminent, how long would we have to think about the fact that we were about to die? i ponder things like that. and things like how absolutely horrifying it would be for my parents to lose both of their children. what it would do to them. yeah, pleasant thoughts.
we had the seat right behind first class. which meant our own personal tv screen. this seemed nice at first. they were showing gosford park. i had seen it but thank goodness it wasn’t some crap movie. however, it is not so much a plane movie, i was soon to discover. the thick accents were hard enough to decipher in a theater. over the airplane headphones, i could barely make out a sentence. i could remember at least, though. rachel hadn’t seen it yet and she quickly became annoyed. this was no good. when she’s annoyed, she reminds me strongly of my ex-girlfriend. the one i can’t stand. so, off with the headphones, i would try to sleep. nope. unbelievable, as i had slept only 3 hours the night before. why couldn’t i sleep now? the plane, the movie two feet from my face, who knows? so i closed my eyes and thought about sirius and remus until we were ready to land.
when we arrived in paris, around 7 am, i was exhausted. and a little pissy. i should say that i have been to paris before. twice. so, while it’s still a thrill to go there, i wasn’t experiencing the first time romance of it all. no, i was tired and rachel was a little whiny. and getting from airport to subway proved a small challenge. and it was hot. but we managed to get on a train with only a few huge-dork-tourist moments.
we knew we wouldn’t be able to check into our room until 2, but we made our way to the hostel anyway, to leave our bags. by the time we got there, we were dripping with sweat and falling down tired. the man at the desk was nice – spoke french to us! and let us clean up and change in their bathrooms. we left there and stopped at a little sidewalk café for breakfast. very parisian. as was the tiny cup of coffee… which i drank with only sugar of course – missing my soy milk already.
rachel was anxious to reserve our sleeper car for the following day’s train trip to rome, so our next stop was the gare de lyon. after our first attempt to talk with a man who wouldn’t speak english but also wouldn’t let us speak french, we abandoned that window and dealt with a very pleasant woman – entirely in french with no problems. so there, stinky man.
we left the gare, delighted to be outside in fresh air again – even if it was frighteningly hot. we walked down blvd diderot and over le pont d’austerlitz to the jardin des plantes. all we wanted was a place where we could lie down and stretch out. when we found such a pleasant, grassy spot, we sprawled. i strecthed, rachel did some chi gong (a routine i would become very familiar with by the end of the trip). and then we both just lay down and fell asleep. really, completely dead asleep. that’s more like me – able to sleep anywhere, anytime. don’t know what was up on the plane.
when we decided to get up, we wandered around aimlessly for a while before stopping at another sidewalk café for lunch. i learned that a salade verte means a bowl of iceberg lettuce to some people. alas. i wasn’t expecting much in the way of vegan food this trip. and really, it was much better iceberg lettuce than you would get here.
and by then we could take the metro back and get into our rooms. which we did. and we both fell asleep almost right away and stayed asleep for about 3 hours. i only got up when i heard rachel get in the shower. good idea. we actually had 2 showers in our room, oddly enough, though neither had a curtain or a door. no matter. rachel and i aren’t shy folk. and it was one of the most satisfying showers of my life, after all that plane and heat and dirt. ahhhh.
after much blithering and indecision about what to do, we decided to go to l’arc de triomphe. it’s supposed to be pretty all lit up at night. except it was no where near dark when we got there at 8ish. we looked around a bit anyway. witnessed some celebratory turks beeping and waving flags and driving around and around the arc… a world cup victory. i cheered for the bastards. little did i know they would soon defeat senegal…. ::sniff:: then we just wandered down the champs elysees. we looked in fancy store windows and people watched. i took a picture of a movie theater poster for l’attaque des clones because i thought it would make jenny smile.
we had dinner at a cute little asian restaurant. even with the confusion over ordering and the not terribly exciting food… it sure beat a bowl of lettuce.
we wandered back toward l’arc then, taking some pictures from the middle of the street and being silly. i’m not one to bother trying to hide my touristy-ness. there’d be no point, so why bother? and the pictures came out well. we were going to climb to the top of l’arc but it had just closed.
the metro ride back to the hotel took forever because of an accident somewhere ahead of us. it was almost worth the amusing encounter with a 50 something year old man in a sporty yellow jacket. he overheard rachel and i talking and took the opportunity to dislpay his english skills. he babbled on… about soccer and whatever else he could come up with. then, he leaned in toward rachel and and said, "i love youu" in a sing-songy voice before straightening up and saying "i’m french." and then just went on babbling. just before our stop he told rachel, "you have beautiful eyes. i want to go swimming in them," complete with little butterfly stroke gestures. when we told him we were getting off now, he said, "really?" heh. those french men. J
we tried to call rachael and oliver when we were back at the hostel, but neither were home. i scribbled in my journal for a while, thinking about what i missed – mostly rachael and lj – and how strange and exciting it was to see so many west african people around. and then i slept soundly.
day one. the longest day.
i seem to only get worse at flying the more i do it. this was my 11th international flight. and i was a bit of a wreck. i don’t think the increased fear was really related to any of the semptember 11 stuff… though we noticed and politely dealt with the increased security at logan. i don’t even really do the white-knuckle thing. i just sit quietly and make myself ill with visions of what could go wrong. if a crash were imminent, how long would we have to think about the fact that we were about to die? i ponder things like that. and things like how absolutely horrifying it would be for my parents to lose both of their children. what it would do to them. yeah, pleasant thoughts.
we had the seat right behind first class. which meant our own personal tv screen. this seemed nice at first. they were showing gosford park. i had seen it but thank goodness it wasn’t some crap movie. however, it is not so much a plane movie, i was soon to discover. the thick accents were hard enough to decipher in a theater. over the airplane headphones, i could barely make out a sentence. i could remember at least, though. rachel hadn’t seen it yet and she quickly became annoyed. this was no good. when she’s annoyed, she reminds me strongly of my ex-girlfriend. the one i can’t stand. so, off with the headphones, i would try to sleep. nope. unbelievable, as i had slept only 3 hours the night before. why couldn’t i sleep now? the plane, the movie two feet from my face, who knows? so i closed my eyes and thought about sirius and remus until we were ready to land.
when we arrived in paris, around 7 am, i was exhausted. and a little pissy. i should say that i have been to paris before. twice. so, while it’s still a thrill to go there, i wasn’t experiencing the first time romance of it all. no, i was tired and rachel was a little whiny. and getting from airport to subway proved a small challenge. and it was hot. but we managed to get on a train with only a few huge-dork-tourist moments.
we knew we wouldn’t be able to check into our room until 2, but we made our way to the hostel anyway, to leave our bags. by the time we got there, we were dripping with sweat and falling down tired. the man at the desk was nice – spoke french to us! and let us clean up and change in their bathrooms. we left there and stopped at a little sidewalk café for breakfast. very parisian. as was the tiny cup of coffee… which i drank with only sugar of course – missing my soy milk already.
rachel was anxious to reserve our sleeper car for the following day’s train trip to rome, so our next stop was the gare de lyon. after our first attempt to talk with a man who wouldn’t speak english but also wouldn’t let us speak french, we abandoned that window and dealt with a very pleasant woman – entirely in french with no problems. so there, stinky man.
we left the gare, delighted to be outside in fresh air again – even if it was frighteningly hot. we walked down blvd diderot and over le pont d’austerlitz to the jardin des plantes. all we wanted was a place where we could lie down and stretch out. when we found such a pleasant, grassy spot, we sprawled. i strecthed, rachel did some chi gong (a routine i would become very familiar with by the end of the trip). and then we both just lay down and fell asleep. really, completely dead asleep. that’s more like me – able to sleep anywhere, anytime. don’t know what was up on the plane.
when we decided to get up, we wandered around aimlessly for a while before stopping at another sidewalk café for lunch. i learned that a salade verte means a bowl of iceberg lettuce to some people. alas. i wasn’t expecting much in the way of vegan food this trip. and really, it was much better iceberg lettuce than you would get here.
and by then we could take the metro back and get into our rooms. which we did. and we both fell asleep almost right away and stayed asleep for about 3 hours. i only got up when i heard rachel get in the shower. good idea. we actually had 2 showers in our room, oddly enough, though neither had a curtain or a door. no matter. rachel and i aren’t shy folk. and it was one of the most satisfying showers of my life, after all that plane and heat and dirt. ahhhh.
after much blithering and indecision about what to do, we decided to go to l’arc de triomphe. it’s supposed to be pretty all lit up at night. except it was no where near dark when we got there at 8ish. we looked around a bit anyway. witnessed some celebratory turks beeping and waving flags and driving around and around the arc… a world cup victory. i cheered for the bastards. little did i know they would soon defeat senegal…. ::sniff:: then we just wandered down the champs elysees. we looked in fancy store windows and people watched. i took a picture of a movie theater poster for l’attaque des clones because i thought it would make jenny smile.
we had dinner at a cute little asian restaurant. even with the confusion over ordering and the not terribly exciting food… it sure beat a bowl of lettuce.
we wandered back toward l’arc then, taking some pictures from the middle of the street and being silly. i’m not one to bother trying to hide my touristy-ness. there’d be no point, so why bother? and the pictures came out well. we were going to climb to the top of l’arc but it had just closed.
the metro ride back to the hotel took forever because of an accident somewhere ahead of us. it was almost worth the amusing encounter with a 50 something year old man in a sporty yellow jacket. he overheard rachel and i talking and took the opportunity to dislpay his english skills. he babbled on… about soccer and whatever else he could come up with. then, he leaned in toward rachel and and said, "i love youu" in a sing-songy voice before straightening up and saying "i’m french." and then just went on babbling. just before our stop he told rachel, "you have beautiful eyes. i want to go swimming in them," complete with little butterfly stroke gestures. when we told him we were getting off now, he said, "really?" heh. those french men. J
we tried to call rachael and oliver when we were back at the hostel, but neither were home. i scribbled in my journal for a while, thinking about what i missed – mostly rachael and lj – and how strange and exciting it was to see so many west african people around. and then i slept soundly.
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