Paris, Part Three

You can't put such a thing as that poor hurt French girl out of one's mind; obviously I haven't put it out of my mind even now.  But, facts were facts:  we had done all we could, and there was nothing more to be done.  As John and I headed back to our hotel, we discussed the incident, and then tried to think of other things.  It was hard.  When you witness something that shocking, the rational part of you understands the limitations of the situation, of being human, of not being able to do more, and understands that those with medical experience are much more able--should be the ones--to deal with it, and that ordinary civilians could do more harm than good.  But the heart doesn't reason like that, and there is always a bit that wishes, hopes, wonders if somehow you could have done more. And for us, there isn't closure.  We will probably never know what happened to that young woman.

We are old enough to know that unless you move on past something that hurts and is difficult, unless you make the best of what you have, you do no one any good.  It was our first day in Paris, a Friday.  We had Saturday and Sunday, and then we'd leave on Monday.

We would make the best of our stay in Paris.

I think it helped that we were both rather tired from running around the Paris Metro, and though our conversation was desultory, with halfhearted attempts at lightening our mood, we ended up just deciding to go back to the hotel instead of walking around more.   I did take a picture of a Picasso car, which briefly amused me, because it was blue (although it was not shaped like a cube, nor did it have both headlights on the passenger's or driver's side of the car). 

We just decided to wash up and sleep once we got to the hotel.  Which was a bit complicated.  We had a double bed, and short, which meant that John's feet stuck out at the end.  I should mention that I have sleep apnea, so have to use a CPAP machine.  This is when we discovered that there was only one electrical outlet in the room, and that one at the foot of the bed near the desk.  Fumbling around in the dim light of the room, it seemed that my CPAP didn't reach all the way to the head of the bed.  Therefore, if I were to use it and keep from waking up at all hours, I would have to sleep with my head at the foot of the bed.

Okay.  Well.  I looked at John and shrugged.  You do what you have to do.  I made sure my feet were well washed and fresh.

The next day we groggily awoke, having not slept well (John fearing that he would accidentally kick my face, and I fearing that I would do the same to him), and I discovered that my CPAP would indeed have reached the head of the bed if I had only untied the electrical cord I so neatly wound in loops.  Like I said, I was very, very tired.

However, after a good breakfast and lots of coffee in the cellar dining area of the hotel, we were much refreshed and decided to go on a walk, as we had been given a handy-dandy map by the Paris Gare du Nord information people, which clearly showed that there was the Parc de Monceau close by, and it seemed that it was only a bit farther on to the Champs Élysées on the other side of the park.   The day was bright, with clouds occasionally moving over the sun to give some respite from the heat that would no doubt have been intense had there been no cloud cover.  I've been a long-time fan of the Art Nouveau style, ever since I was in my 20's. I couldn't help taking a picture of the Monceau entrance to the Metro.  If you click on the picture, you can get a close up of the lovely Art Nouveau wrought-iron gate, as well as the typical Art Nouveau lettering on the signs. Remembering the labyrinthine journey we took through the Metro tunnels, we opted to go through the park.  Surely the way to the Champs Élysées would be shorter this way.

I'm glad we went through it.  Not only was it a shortcut to the Champs Élysées than going around it, but it was landscaped in the "English" style, and the flowers were in full bloom.   The Parc de Monceau is a lovely place that is perfect for people to stroll through, whether young, middle aged, or old.  There is even a playground where children can play, with benches all along the walkways and play areas.  John discovered as we entered the park that he had forgotten something and had to go back to the hotel.  I was content to wait in the park, taking pictures, walking about, sitting on the benches, and watching the people go by.  You do have to watch out for the large number of joggers, though.

But the flowers--oh, the flowers.  They're so lovely, and arranged in ways I hadn't ever thought of.  Had you ever thought of planting flowers next to rhubarb?  But of course!  The red stalks of rhubarb contrast so well with pale yellow daisy petals.

Even the trees were in bloom.




It wasn't long before John came back and I had taken quite a few pictures of the park.  We walked along the Allée de la Comtesse de Ségur in the park and then on Avenue Hoche.

I could see a building in the distance, and became quite excited, as I recognized the top of the Arc de Triomphe.  Surely it was close!

We kept walking.  And walking.  And then I realized that the Arc de Triomphe is really, really big, which is why I could see it so well...from a distance.  Ack!

But, this is the Arc de Triomphe!  This is history!  What's more, it's research!  And I am a writer, therefore I will do a great deal for research, even walk miles and miles.


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Finally, after much dogged determination (on my part--I'm sure it was a cinch for the fit-as-a-fiddle John), we arrived at the Charles de Gaulle Étoile, which is the "Charles de Gaulle Star"--a description of the very huge roundabout at the center of which is the Arc de Triomphe.  Well, okay, now that I see the map, it was only one mile, but my feet were still sore from the long and labyrinthine walk through the Paris Metro the day before, so it felt like a lot more.   Needless to say, I had to take a few pictures of it, especially a touristy-kind of picture that includes one's spouse, just to prove that yes, we were indeed there. 

Here are a few more shots of the Arc.  Thank God for zoom!

 Note the words "Rivoli" and "Les Pyramides" on this section of the Arc above.  This is Napoleon's way of saying "I went there and kicked butt."

The sculpture above is called the "Triumph of 1810," however I think it's really the "Triumph of Napoleon," because there he is, being crowned by a Greek deity.

This is a close-up of the frieze just next to the top of one of the arches.  If you click and enlarge, you can see that it depicts Napoleon Bonaparte on his horse in Aboukir, Egypt.  Napoleon's Egyptian campaign occurred between 1798 and 1801, with the purpose of protecting French trade interests and blocking England's trade access to India.  Despite the triumphant depiction here, he and the French forces were eventually beaten back from their objectives (one of which was to build a Suez Canal) by Admiral Horatio Nelson's British fleet and the Ottoman Turks, as well as other mid-eastern forces.  One of the significant scientific discoveries to come out of this campaign, however, was the Rosetta Stone by a young French officer, Pierre-François-Xavier Bouchard.  This eventually led to the deciphering of Egyptian hieroglyphics in 1822 by a young French genius, Jean-François Champollion (by the age of sixteen, he had mastered 20 languages; by the age of twenty, he had mastered another 12, including classical Latin and Greek, as well as Sanskrit, Arabic, Persian, and some I've never heard of).

In other words, if it weren't for Napoleon, Bouchard, and Champollion, Indiana Jones would never have been able to decipher the hieroglyphs so that he could find the Ark of the Covenant in Egypt.  :-D

By the way, note the turbans on the Mamelouks.  Turbans became a fashion statement for English ladies about this time.  Yes, the fashionable ladies of Jane Austen's time wore turbans.

I mention fashions, because after viewing the Arc de Triomphe from across the street (we would go closer another time, we figured), we ventured down the Champs Élysées just two very short blocks away.  Oh, if you are a window shopper, this is window shopping heaven.  Cartier, Louis Vuitton, Benetton, Sephora, Swarovski, Givenchy, are just a few stores to grace this marvelous la plus belle avenue du monde.

Here is the Louis Vuitton store.   After viewing this famous designer's fabric stash--which, as you may note, is prominently, nay, proudly displayed in the store's window--I realize that we fabric and yarn crafters no longer need be ashamed of, or try to hide, our stash.  We should be proud of the effluence of our creativity.  We should state to the world that yes, we are creative, and this, this is even more evidence of that creativity. Louis Vuitton celebrates his creativity--why should not we?

I'm just sayin'.

Since this was the day before the final stage of the Tour de France, you may imagine that posters and other images of the Tour were on display.  Here is the Nike store, and of course, a poster of Lance Armstrong.

Did we go inside this store?  But of course.  We're talking the Tour de France, Lance Armstrong, bicycles, and John the bicycle fan.  Here is John next to Lance's 2009 bicycle.  As you can see, he is very happy.

I have to say the window displays were wonderful, and even places under construction had something fun to indicate that it was under construction.  Here is one such:

Cool, huh?  At first I thought it was just a large open space with construction workers doing their job.  But no, it's a big painting put over a construction site.  Below, however, is not a painting.  It's the Toyota showroom:

Yes, the white car is a real car hung up on the wall.

It was nearing noon, and our walk had depleted the energy we had from our breakfast, so we went in search for a place to eat.  I say search, because there were a LOT of cafes, bistros, and restaurants all along either side of the Champs Élysées.  Choices, choices!

As it was a sunny day, all the eateries had outdoor seating, and so it was easy to see what people were eating.  As we strolled down the avenue pondering what we had a fancy for, a small hand-written sign at the Bistro Romain caught my attention.  I managed to rustle up enough high-school French to realize it was advertising reservations during the final stage of the Tour de France the next day.  I quickly drew John's attention to it, and I decided to ask a nearby waitress what it all meant.  My French was obviously bad enough that she decided to find the head waiter to help.

The waiter, David, spoke fluent English, and let us know that they were indeed taking reservations for 2 pm the next day, and offered to show us where we might sit.  We gladly took him up on our offer.  He showed us up to the 2nd floor (first floor in Europe).

It was perfect.  As you can see from the photo, the second floor (the windows just above the bistro's sign) was perfectly positioned to see everything that went on below on the sidewalk and the street.  David informed us that we could sit there as long as we liked--hours, in fact--and that they were offering a nice menu (that is, a whole predetermined full-course meal) for a price that sounded great even to our middle-class ears, especially for where we'd be sitting and when.  David's manner was so friendly and inviting that I thought if this was an indication of the service here, dining at the Bistro Romain (at 122 Avenue Champs Élysées, if anyone is interested) during the Tour event would be a delight.  We made reservations on the spot.

We decided not to have lunch there at that time, as we wanted to savor eating at the Bistro Romain during the Tour de France as a unique experience.  So we continued up and down the street in search of a restaurant that didn't look too crowded, and ended up at an Italian style restaurant across the street where we had pizza.  Of course, it was great pizza, because pretty much any food you will get in Paris will be fantastic.  Good food has been our experience in restaurants here in Europe in general.  In Paris, the center of haute cuisine, it would of course be beyond good, it would be superior.

After that, we roamed the avenue for a bit, and then decided to go back to the hotel, again through the Parc de Monceau.  As usual, we saw the joggers go by, but near the exit, we began to see more and more bicyclists in bicycling outfits.  I began to realize that our arrival in Paris not only heralded the Tour de France, but bicycling heaven.  For John, seventh heaven, for here were kindred spirits.

It turned out that we encountered the Action Medical Research bicycle tour, a British-based charity that raises money to help fund research for children's illnesses and disabilities.  Starting as a charity to help fund research on polio in the 1950's, the charity expanded to include all medical conditions that affect children.  Bicyclists from around the world ride in this bicycle tour every year to raise funds.  While these folks were on the London to Paris tour, the foundation also has other tours they organize within the UK.  If you love riding a bicycle and want to visit England and/or Paris, this is a great way to do it while raising money for a very worthy cause.

The guys to the right are a British team who told us about the organization and the tour.

We even met a bicyclist and his friends from our very own Seattle, Washington!  Here we were all the way in Paris, and we encounter someone from our home state, participating in this charity tour.  Is that cool or what?

After talking with the bicyclists for a few more minutes, it was time for them to continue on their ride.  As we also turned to leave for our hotel, our attention was momentarily taken by some clapping and cheers nearby, and to our delight, we saw a bride in her wedding dress and groom in his tux run through the park and out the gates.  I wish I could have taken a picture of them, but they were too quick for me.  I think the two were with the bicycle tour and took the chance to have their vows said in this very romantic city of Paris.  It was with big grins that John and I returned to our hotel room.