Paris post.

Goodbye Amsterdam... hello Paris

We said our farewells to Amsterdam. It was not without a hitch. We were pleased to get out of our bad lodgings and walked to where one of our maps said there were taxis. No taxis there. Not to worry I had googled “Amsterdam Taxis” the night before so had a number. We rang and waited outside of the zoo. ... they had said one was on the way but none came... starting to panic.... rang again... just a lot of garbled dutch.. A lady in a local vets opposite rang another taxi firm for us... A taxi was there in minutes. We even found the right wagon to climb on to this time and we had a great train ride... FAST... The guard was nice... scenery interesting.. acres of glass houses near Rotterdam, a look Brussels, Antwerp and finally the Paris “Gare du Nord” station.

Sick of Concrete, Cars and Cobblestones.

We walked to our hostel. ..only trouble was the web site link gave directions to another hostel around the corner. I had twigged to that inconsistency and thought I had it all worked out in my head. We walked up and down “Rue de Rochechouart” looking for number 37. We went in there but it was offices, with a receptionist who did not understand English, just as we did not understand her French. I was tired, sweaty and frustrated by this time. (I had a heavy backpack and was towing a heavy bag) .... “Where is the bloody place? It better not be like the Amsterdam one!” Then I clicked.... The place we were looking for was 37 “BD de Rochechouart” (Boulevard) which intersected with “Rue de Rochechouart” which we had been trudging. In the middle of all this frustration I let off steam. “I am getting sick of high old buildings, narrow roads, cobblestones, cars and people! I need grass and bush or I’ll go nuts!” Anyway I found the hostel and it is luxury. We discovered we get breakfast thrown in which was a pleasant surprise.

The French are interesting!

After arriving sweating and tired at our lodgings we rested briefly and headed away to explore the city. All down the street we discovered men talking to one another, and they talk loudly, waving their hands about madly. You think they are having an argument, but no it seems to be just the way they are. Till well after midnight last night we heard loud French men’s voices discussing life. At breakfast this morning two guys met for the first time and pretty soon the whole breakfast room could hear and see their conversation. We found a quiet looking place to have our evening meal on our first night, and a group of men two tables away, with one loud woman, and another couple on the other side were having a conversation... and they were noisy! Emphatic gestures, loud protests and lots of resounding laughter. Wow! Even the waiters talked loudly among themselves!

We decided to walk down the street to get away from the noise. The traffic is mad! They love to use their horns! (Which I am sure are louder than NZ cars!) A pedestrian crossing means nothing! Even when a pedestrian crossing has a little green man/light telling you that you are free to walk, ...don’t believe it! The cars, bikes and motor bikes keep coming if you let them! We stopped for dessert opposite the “Gare Du Nord” (the main railway station) As Jean went to order our ice cream I watched the passing parade of people and cars. (I actually love people-watching) There was a beggar trying to sell stuff and beg sitting on the footpath keeping an eye on all. There was a taxi blocking an exit, cars parked where they shouldn’t be and groups of african-french young people relating, showing off and sounding off. A driver was yelling at a couple of policemen. A taxi driver was yelling at him. The two policemen were trying to calm things, but also hand out tickets, which only agitated more people. Cars were getting blocked, a bus came to a standstill, an ambulance tried to pass and it was all accompanied by people seemingly yelling at each other. The beggar was laughing and enjoyed pointing out the tickets on the car windows to the returning drivers. It was just delightful chaos! (Provided you were not the patient waiting for an ambulance!) Nice to visit, but I would hate to cope with it everyday.

Majestic Buildings

On our first full day we hopped on an open topped hop-on /hop-off bus. (Yes it drizzled... we got our cheap ponchos out and some cheeky pommes suggested we’d get blown away) We traveled around Paris visiting the main tourist attractions and listening to the commentary. We hopped off the bus at Notre Dam Cathedral and had some lunch in a quaint cafe. Then we walked... around Notre Dam, past some magestic buildings, over the oldest bridge (16th Century) through the grounds of “Musee du Louvre” (the queue was a mile long... too long to wait.) along “Rue de Rivoli” through a bit of a park to “La Place De La Concorde”. From the bus in the morning I had spotted a toilet underground, under an impressive looking statue, so this brought welcome relief. (There was a queue for some pay toilets nearby so I felt suitably superior - though the french noticeboards could have been telling me ours was not for our use - but I was happily ignorant!) Then we marched up “Des Champs Elysees” to the “Arc De Triomphe”. Every step in this city is a photo opportunity. Even the scummy old buildings seem to have a charm and exude history and mystery. It certainly is a majestic city! We caught the bus to the “Opera”, and walked home from there, stopping for tea along the way.

On our second day we headed out on the bus, getting off on the stop before the Eiffel tower. We walked past war memorials (as my wife pointed out... they are ALL war memorials!) down through some gardens, across the river to the tower. We had planned going up it. Being mid summer holiday here there were lines of buses queued up all over the place. Each corner of the tower boasted a twisted, back and forth queue of people waiting to pay their fee to climb the tower. We estimated we would have to wait a minimum of an hour, probably more whatever queue we joined! Mixed in with this were pushy people trying to sell us mini Towers, beggars asking for money and a whole host of young indian looking women asking “Do you speak English” who would then show you a card with the same heart breaking story.... “I am from Bosnia... I have a baby... “ They look at you with pleading eyes... “Feed my baby???” and always warnings about pick pockets and shady looking characters mooching around. We decided we had seen enough of the tower and caught the bus again into town. We window shopped our way toward our place, explored a bit further and bought some cold tea. Looking for a place to sit to drink it, we found a park. A wasp came and annoyed my wife, attracted by the can of drink. She raced uphill to get away from it. We discovered (though my wife had read about it) la Basilique du Sacre Coeur. It was like a gift to us. There were crowds of people watching various clever busking type shows. There was a reverent queue going into the Basilica which we joined. On the outside of the church we were invited to come and “Adore our Lord with us” and informed that for 125 years somebody had been praying in this church at all times of the day. We came out of the Church after a quiet sit for a while, and were confronted with a majestic panorama of Paris, looking down on the Eiffel tower in one corner. It was a great finale to our visit to Paris! The best site we had visited in our two and a bit days here. There were the beggars and gypsies trying to pressure money out of us on the way down. We keep spotting homeless people with all their belongings around the city. One came to our sidewalk restaurant as we finished our meal tonight. But we felt we had enjoyed this crazy, majestic and busy city.

We have been to Krakow, Prague, Berlin, Amsterdam and Paris. Each city has sounds, sights, strengths, smells and a culture that is different from the others. Tomorrow London awaits.

Photos:

• The toilet with a statue on top of it that I spotted. Pretty fancy!
• Three "Paris" photos. The Basilica we discovered by our hostel is the middle one.
• I was wrong... there are public toilets in Amsterdam. This is one ("too bad if you're a woman" says Jean) I spotted as we looked for a taxi.