sacre-coeur « WordPress.com Tag Feed

Sweet home Manchester

Dan Bowen — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 08:59:39 +0000

After my 3rd sub 4 hour night’s sleep in a row (sometimes considerably so ‘n all) I’m looking (and feeling) like a good candidate as an extra for ‘Shaun of the Dead – Part II’. So I feel like just hanging around the hostel until I need to leave for my flight at about 14:00ish but this would be quite the waste when considering how much of Paris I’ve still to see. This means I’ll head off to Montmartre for a couple of hours trundling.

While on route to Montmartre some obnoxious middle-aged man had the dreaded ‘turbo folk’ blaring from his phone while swigging a can of lager with his wife next to him. Cretin.

To take my mind off the cretin and his cretinous tunes, I listened to the latest episode of ‘Matt’s Today in History’ which covers the D.B. Cooper case, an incident I was already familiar with but was glad to learn more on. I hope he is running a bar in South America somewhere with no one any the wiser.

My first stop was to the flea market that the girl on reception at the hostel had recommended, though I can’t think what possessed her to do that as it was bobbins. Maybe I was just at the wrong one though.

Then I grabbed lunch at a little bistro La Dolce Vita grill. I had lasagne and it was crap, it was actually cold in the middle and as the plate was very hot I suspect it had just been bunged in the microwave. I
didn’t have time to complain and couldn’t be bothered either. But it was a pretty disappointing €9 spent when the place looked quite nice.

After that I paid a very brief visit to the Sacré-Coeur which was nice, all very crisp and polished. It wasn’t as big as I’d have expected though.

On the way down the steps at the front of the basilica I was greeted by 7 or 8 African scammers. I knew what their game was straight away as I’d heard about the same thing in Milan. They walk up to tourists and try and place a ‘friendship’ bracelet on their wrists, then they try and demand payment for it. Anyway one of them walks up to me and starts giving it “Excusez-moi” and I just said “Not interested” several times while still walking, I could even see the bracelet in his hand. He straddled to the side and in front of me though with his hand on my chest all the while trying to block me, he had seriously overstepped the mark in terms of personal space. I wanted to give him a whack and leg it but I don’t think that would have been a very wise move with 7 of his pals behind me. He eventually got the message as I just pushed past him. They really wind me up though, get out of my face and do one.

I wasn’t overly impressed with Montmartre as a whole, I was told to expect a cool bohemian vibe and I didn’t get a whiff of it. I had very little time there though and didn’t get a chance to explore so I expect I just missed the good bits. As I often say, for another trip.

Nearly €10 to get to CDG airport on the light railway when it only takes half an hour if that. I’ve found that a lot of cities like to exploit their tourists with this sort of thing but plenty more don’t (Manchester being in the latter category). I should make a name and shame list.

Bugger, my flight is delayed an hour. All is not lost though as there is a PS3 demo unit in the departure lounge.

Ah, maybe it is as 2 annoying posh kids have caught sight of me playing it. I’m now trying to teach the pair of them FIFA 2009 but the poor sods are clueless and have no aptitude whatsoever for video games, I blame the parents. I’ve given up and left them to it, total lost causes who should never be let near a console again.

Actually my flight is delayed an hour and a half, flamin’ budget airlines. It’s not too bad I suppose though.

I take that back, what a bag of shite. The flight is now cancelled altogether apparently, though they are being pretty quiet with the information. They mentioned something about another flight at 20:35 (3 and a half hours after we were supposed to leave) but if it’s an already scheduled flight I presume they will have to source a much bigger plane. Now I’m stood in a large queue (and have been for half an hour) and I’m not really sure why.

The queue was to issue us a new boarding pass and they also gave us a €20 food voucher, that’s something I suppose. I made sure I got every cent’s worth out of it (in fact I actually went 50 cents over) and had an Italian salad with mozzarella and parma ham, a large bag of crisps, a chocolate chip muffin and pint of Heineken.

As the new departure time was approaching things weren’t looking promising as the plane wasn’t even in, one fella waiting had a WiFi connection and was checking the Manchester Airport site which was showing a new arrival time of 23:00 (which would turn out to be correct). He new more than the bloody staff who weren’t saying much at all, what a joke.

There was another FlyBe flight to Birmingham going out from the same departure lounge so I took on a few young Brummie lads on FIFA and gave them all a lesson they won’t forget for a while. Awe struck they were.

I’d been through belt off, wallet and phone in the plastic tray, security malarkey 3 times in the end as the toilets (and the cafes) were outside the lounge. “You again” said one of the officials to me at one point.

We eventually took to the skies at about 22:15, around 5 and a half hours after we should have done. Oh well, it could have been a lot worse.

So there we go, another trip reaches it’s completion. I’m now back on the ever faithful Blighty soil and ruddy glad to be so. Let’s have a look at a couple of stats for the duration of this European expedition to finish off:

- 27 countries visited
- 40 magnets collected
- 19 magnets missed (boo!)
- 2 live football matches witnessed
- 73 pizzas eaten
- 1439 pints of lager drunk*
- £15.04 AdSense revenue generated
- 8400 hits direct to this site
- 11206 hits on Lonely Planet site
- 0 Frenchmen with good sense of humour met

While you’re here you may as well have a look at my fully completed old skool analogue map below. Quite the route eh.

I’ll be back in STBB HQ at some point in January for my New Zealand jaunt, I hope you will join me. I’ll post the occasional update on my travel plans here so feel to check back in and leave some comment abuse every now and again. It’s been emotional.

* Including 1 courtesy of this lot.

Paris - Sacré coeur

Stampfli & Turci — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 14:31:38 +0000

Photo submitted by © Carla Boulton

[click on photo to enlarge]

Personal note by Carla Boulton

I love this spot in Paris. It’s great to think about what all those people in windows across the city are doing, if you look around you can see everyone else being curious in the same way.

Follow Ivan on Twitter – @naughtymutt
Follow Carla’s blog on Posterous – carlaboulton.posterous.com

New Print in My Etsy Shop!

lizlangley — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 04:01:53 +0000

This one has been in the works for a long time, but here it is at last! Inspired by my trips to Paris and walks through Montmartre:

I loved my walks through that neighborhood and the Sacre-Coeur in particular was one of my favorite landmarks. Just gorgeous. This takes me back…

Available now in my etsy shop!

Basiilika, ei, mitte see, mis salatisse käib

Leelo — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 22:49:30 +0000

Igal korralikul linnal peab ikka oma basiilika olema, Brüsselis on Basilique du Sacré-Coeur ehk Püha Südame basiilika (as in Jeesuse püha süda). Igatahes ma vaatasin selle täna üle. See asub kesklinnast umbes 20-minutise metroosõidu kaugusel (liin 2 või 6, suund Simonis). Kirikuni viib linna poolt tulles Elisabethi park-allee, hoone ise paikneb kenasti turistisõbralikult künka otsas, et saaks ikka korralikult pilti teha. Samas on asukoht piisavalt kaugel (linnaosas nimega Koekelberg, mida aadressis tähistab indeks 1081), nii et seal on vaikne ja rahulik nagu pühakojale kohane. Üleval rõdul pani lisaks linnavaatele mind naeratama kuuldud ungari keel ja hiljem jutlesin sõbraliku härrasmehega Süüriast või Liibanonist (endal on ka ignorantsuse pärast piinlik, aga tõesti ei mäleta). Ei mingeid tunglevaid rahvamasse.

Sacré-Coeur on suuruselt 5. kirik maailmas (kuigi ma ei tea, kust need andmed pärit on) ja suurim art deco ehitis üldse. No ma ei tea, oli küll suur, aga mitte eriti ilus, ei rõdudele viivad sinissest kivist trepid (kui keegi teab, mis see blue stone täpsemalt on, siis viidagi mind ka kurssi, palun), ei telliskivimüürid, ei glasuuritud terrakotast samabd ja piirded, isegi oonüksist altar ega vitraažaknad polnud midagi erakordset. Üldmulje oli kuidagi pruun ja rõhuv. Võib olla on asi selles, et ta on suhteliselt uus (praeguse kuju sai hoone peale II ms), aga teda hakati ehitama mingis neostiilis. Tegelikult on see ehitamise lugu isegi huvitavam.

Oli aasta 1880 ja kuna oli vaja tähistada iseseisva Belgia 50. sünnipäeva, siis arvas parasjagu troonil olev kuningas Leopold II heaks muuta Koekelberg kuninglikuks piirkonnaks ja sinna ühtlasi üks pühakoda püstitada. Talle meeldis hirmsasti Pariis, niisiis võeti eeskujuks Montmartre’i Sacré Coeur, kirik pandi künka otsa, et selle juurde saaks kiirtena suunduda avenüüd nagu Pariisis Champs Elysées Triumfikaare juurde. Nurgakivi asetati paigale juba 25 aastat hiljem ehk kuningriigi 75. iseseisvusaasta puhuks. Esialgne projekt nägi ette neogooti stiili, I ms ajas plaanid lörri, neogootika läks moest ja võeti suund hoopis juugendile. Loomulikult jõudsid nii Leopold kui arhitekt Albert van Huffel vahepeal parematele jahimaadele siirduda, aga sellest polnud lugu, troonile tuli Albert I ja ehitustööd jätkas Paul Rome. Hoone pühitseti sisse 1951. a ja kuppel valmis 1969. a (kuigi välisrõdule viivate treppide järgi võiks arvata, et ehitustööd ikka veel käivad). Nii kaua tehtud ehitise kohta mitte just eriti kaunikene.

Kui kedagi numbrid huvitavad, siis basiilika pikilööv on 164 m pikk, transept 107 m,kuppel nelitise kohal on 90 m kõrge. Basiilika mahutab 2000 inimest. Kuplit ümbritseb välisrõdu, millelt saab linna imetleda. Brüsselis on ikka väga palju maju. Kummaline asi – kiriku all lõunapoolses küljes on restoran, huvitav, kas seal pakutakse Kristuse ihu ja verd?

Kuningas Leopold oli aga igavene kaabakas, õhkas Pariisi poole, ise rõhus samal ajal Kongo rahvast ja korraldas seal genotsiidi. Kuigi ta omal ajal eriti populaarne polevat olnud, ei pidavat belglased ajaloost rääkides neid Kongoga seotud seiku hea meelega mainima (võimalik, et see kehtib ainult ametliku versiooni kohta. Nimelt on Belgia ajalugu tutvustavas BELvue muuseumis Leopoldi Kongo perioodi kohta ainult üks ajaleheväljalõige).

Üldiselt pole ma Belgia ajaloost veel eriti sotti saanud, tänapäevase Belgia alad on näinud rohkem erinevatest suguvõsadest siniverelisi, kunne, krahve ja muid tegelasi kui Eesti oma tuhandeaastase orjapõlve jooksul okupante. Mul on Belgia koolilastest kohe päris kahju, et nad peavad õppima, kes millal millise jupi päranduseks või kaasavaraks sai ja kelle oma see maa parasjagu oli ja ärme üldse hakkame rääkima sellest kanast, mida Flandria ja Vallonnia kuidagi kitkutud ei saa. Mul mingil hetkel tekkis kerge adumus, milles asi, aga see kadus kibekiiresti. Katsun end harida ja BELvues ka ära käia.

Montmartre (part deux) :: Seattle Food Photographer in Paris

charitylynnephoto — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 17:11:55 +0000

So, I am very behind on my blogging timeline here.

Because this next string of images is from almost two weeks ago – at the Butte Montmartre.

Montmartre, itself, is a great neighborhood that I recommend you visit if you are ever in Paris – full of old world charm, small shops, and classic cafe’s (aside from the Starbucks of course). There’s the Red Light district (Moulin Rouge, Le Chat Noir…), the fabric district (I wish I knew how to sew, I would be in heaven), and even the cafe featured in “Amelie” (just looking on IMDB, I guess that is the neighborhood the whole story was based…like I said, great neighborhood).

So the “Butte Montmartre” is kind of the icing on the cake.

Montmartre is north, and is the highest point in Paris (to find out ‘how high’ and all the other technical details, go here). So when you reach the top, or the “butte”, you can see all of Paris. Kind of like the Eiffel Tower, except free.

At the top, there is the Basilica Sacre Coeur, a Roman-Catholic church.

and then on down there are a multiple number of stairs to lead your way towards the city…

The most famous being a staircase called, The stairs of Rue Foyatier.

I did not climb these stairs, there have been enough stairs for me to climb since I’ve been here, and I’ve already lost a good pant size as it is…but it looks like a good trek – yes, a good trek indeed. In fact, if you are unwilling to take the stairs they do have a solution – a gondola-like ride right next to these famous steps (I did not photograph that wonderful eye-sore).

Cheese in Paris

casserlesoeufs — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 12:13:05 +0000

Occasionally the train rides from destination to destination prove to be as memorable as the destination itself.

Before leaving the port town of Cerbère my cohorts and I found fresh bread, cheese, tomatoes, and olives to sustain us for the nearly 12 hour ride through the better part of France. For three hungry girls the most unfortunate aspect of this leg of the trip with the lack of a proper dining car. Always resourceful we found a conveniently empty car at the end of the train where we began to feast on our ever delicious go-to travel meal. Inconveniently, this empty car was the foyer to a very popular bathroom. I can imagine what a surprise it must have been to find three giggly American girls chowing down on baguettes, olives, and cheese harboring the bathroom car. Although every strange glance or nod of acknowledgment was worth every fresh and cheesy bite of our favorite sandwich.

Once in Paris we took on the task of finding a hostel; every prepared travelers nightmare. We wondered around the Place de la Bastille, found a cafe with wi-fi, met an extremely helpful wine connoisseur who kindly aided us in our search for a hostel in the area and later helped us find a great bottle of wine for our friend which we proceeded to leave on a train. Maybe it wasn’t a great bottle of wine; we will never know. I will give our friend the benefit of the doubt.

After sleeping on a bed with a real mattress for the first time in two nights we woke up refreshed and ready to explore. Croissants, cafe, crepes, cheese. I had a long list of things to see eat. We ventured to Rue Mouffetard attempting to discover a bustling, birght, beautiful market for which Paris is so renowned.

Before finding a market we stumbled upon the Jardin du Palais Royal and marveled at the ornate shrubs and gorgeous floral arrangements.

After leaving the cities garden oasis we finally made our way to the cobble stoned Rue Mouffetard. To our extreme disappointment the Mouffetard market was almost non existent during the summer season. Nonetheless I found fromageries to marvel over. There is nothing more beautiful to me than opening a door, being filled with the sharp scent of aged cheese, and drooling of the variety of beautiful textures. Smooth and creamy, brittle and dense, soft and marbled. The possibilities are endless. So is my appetite. Especially when it comes to cheese.

Aside from abundant cheese shops we found ourselves spending quite a long time in an English pub: Margen’s 65, rue Mouffetard- PARIS 5ème.

This is where we met yet another extraordinarily helpful and mustached man jumping at the opportunity to help out a few travelers. His name is George; he is Cretan, owns an English pub in Paris, and recommended a bad fondue restaurant. In spite of his poor recommendation; George has a warm spot in our hearts. Like a grandfather with the best intentions of making friends but really just revealing a French stereotype I was hoping was simply a myth.

The food in said restaurant was by no mean bad, or good. Which means that only the service and ambiance could make or break the meal. It shattered the meal. While attempting to order two dishes to with my friend we were given a cold glance and a severe “c’est impossible”. After that there was no going back , no matter how delectable the duck fondue.

Thus far in my Paris trip, I had been lacking some of the amazing food I had imagined. Buttery, flaky pastries. Check. But maybe I had been expecting or imagining too extravagantly on my minuscule budget, but aren’t Paris streets supposed to be lined with decadent food? Or is that just my fantasy? Maybe my mistake had been not researching where to look for the decadent nibbles and not simply fantasize.

Day two proved to lift my spirits. All it took was one croissant. One coffee. Two ice creams. One salmon crepe.

One Tour Eiffel.

One long walk through Pigalle.

One rest at the Sacre Coeur.

One visit to the Musee de l’erotisme.

One Chinese restaurant. The day is complete.

Pickup lines

serenedreams — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 07:50:28 +0000

The best pick-up line I have ever heard was when I was in Paris. My friends and I was looking around the area of the Sacré-Cœur. We were looking at the different painting of the artists. Well the one artist latched on to us, talking to us about how beautiful the day was and such. We got away from him for a while, but we were down the street a ways when he showed up again. This time he focused on my friend Ang, she was away from me and our two guy friends at the time. He tried to tell her, ”You are Milk and I am Coffee. Together we are Cappuccino.” When I heard this, I burst out laughing, to which I received a glare. I still laugh about it today. The odd thing was once we got back onto the Metro heading to our hotel, we saw the artist again. We got a good laugh out of our French Stalker.

Falling in Love With Paris

Steven Harris — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 18:28:53 +0000

When I was in France as an exchange student all those years ago I wasn’t only an idiot obsessed with letting off fireworks and arguing with Jean-Louis. There was a part of me which was utterly entranced by the fact that I could travel for a couple of hours across a stretch of sea and find myself immersed in a radically different culture. In short, I loved France, which is why I signed up to go back and spend more time with Jean-Louis the following year. He and I might not have got along too well but he dug England when he came to stay with me, I dug France when I was there so it made sense to take the opportunity to go again.

One of the reasons I was keen to return was Paris although, as I will explain, Paris was one of the reasons my school might not have wanted me to go on the following year’s exchange. I’d got myself into a bit of trouble in the French capital, you see. It was all going spendidly well in the morning. Jean-Louis’ mum dragged me out of bed at some ungodly hour so that I could get washed and dressed in time to make the coach. It was barely light as we pulled out of Caen and began trundling 120 miles towards Paris. It was about half nine by the time we spilled out of the coach, hot and bothered and already full of brie and baguettes. As is probably customary with all exchange students, we were first taken to the Eiffel Tower. Either because of cost or because of time, we did not go to the very top but still got an amazing view from the second level. I know London a little because my father worked there and I used to take a train and he’d meet me at Paddington Station whenever I went to stay with him. Usually he’d take me to his place of work – a huge building close to Blackfriar’s Bridge – and he’d shown me around Westminster and Fleet Street and the like when time allowed. But Paris seemed like another world from the tower. Up there where the exhaust fumes did not reach, where the only sounds were of bickering seagulls, squabbling children and harrassed teachers, I fell in love with a place for the first time in my life.

Notre Dame

Our next stop was Notre Dame but I could not get the image of Paris from above out of my head. I didn’t want to stay in some scary old church, I wanted to explore the city. So I did. I edged towards the door while the guide was telling our group about the cathedral and walked out. For reasons I am not entirely sure, I was followed by one of the swottier boys from my class. At first I thought he’d been sent by a teacher to tell me to come back in, but it turns out there was a slightly rebellious streak in him after all. He had already been to Paris twice, he said, and didn’t want to trudge around Notre Dame again so he thought he’d hang around outside until they were done. “Where are you going?” he asked.”No idea,” I replied. “What do you mean?” he wanted to know. So I tried to tell him what I’d felt when we were up the Eiffel Tower and that I just wanted to lose myself in the streets and discover it all for myself. Not sure if he got quite what I meant but he reminded me of when and where the coach was leaving from that evening. “What if you get lost and miss the coach?” he suddenly thought. “No idea,” I said again and walked away. Moments later he was there alongside me and it seemed I’d found an unlikely accomplice for possibly the most idiotic spot of truancy I ever indulged in.

Actually, he didn’t last long. We’d been heading vaguely North (I now know, at the time I was just wandering wherever I liked, soaking up the sounds of the traffic and the conversations people seemed to be having at break-neck speeds), and began walking down a thinning street. On either side were women in short skirts with tiny handbags, cigarettes dangling from too-red lips. “Oh my god, they’re…” said Swot-Boy. “Hookers,” I completed his sentence. The further we walked along the street, the older and less attractive the women seemed to become. Near the other end one of them winked at my friend. He freaked out, as though a prostitute winking at him was the same as having paid her for services we were not even particularly ready for at that age. “I’m going back.” was all he said. So I let him head off and continued in the direction we’d been going.

Montmartre Steps

I did not know at the time that I was entering Montmartre. All I knew was that the chain stores had disappeared from the streets to be replaced with smaller shops, cafes, tobacconists, and murky looking antique places. Pavement artists seemed to be on every corner bugging the better dressed tourists to have their portrait sketched. This was the Paris I’d imagined from films and television. I had no idea that Montmartre was traditionally the bohemian quarter and down the years had been home to the likes of Picasso, and Renoir and even American writers such as Langston Hughes. All I knew was that this was MY Paris, I’d discovered it all on my own. Nobody had shown me the steps or the side roads: they were all new and all mine.

Feeling thirsty, I stopped in a cafe on the corner of a main street, pretended I could read more than ten words of the French newspaper which was lying on my table when I sat down, and beheld my new domain. I dreamed the normal dreams of impressionable teenagers who read too much Kafka and Orwell and who have stumbled into Paris as if guided by the hand of Fate. In other words I dreamed that one day I would return and live here, in this part of the city, and forget that I ever spoke English at all. And when I rounded another corner on continuing my explorations, I found yet another reason to come and live in Montmartre: The Sacre Coeur.

One of the reasons I adored the film ‘Amelie‘ so much was because of the scenes around the Sacre Coeur. I don;t know what it was that drew me to it as I was not and am not religious. But it was this glorious white building on top of a hill with inviting steps leading up to it. So I climbed the steps and went inside what suddenly seemed like some magical temple. There was a peace and stillness inside, despite the fact of it being quite full with tourists and worshippers, that made sense to me in a way that years of sermons and religious instruction at school had never done. Many people were buying candles and setting them on a specially provided stand, lighting them and, presumably, whispering a silent prayer. I put three Francs into the box, lit my candle and put it with the others. Rather than praying I became somewhat serious and realised that I was going to be in an awful lot of trouble with my teachers. I decided to wander round for ten minutes, drink in as much as I could of the Sacre Coeur, and then make my way back to the meeting point.

On the way back I tried telling myself I’d probably be fine. We were going to have sandwiches wherever after Notre Dame and then the students were going to be allowed to explore anyway. They’d probably not even missed me. I;d only skipped off an hour early after all. How wrong I was. My teachers were apoplectic with rage and also quite shaken with fear. Anything could have happned to me, they said. What the hell was I thinking, they said. The police were looking for you, they said. So I had to apologise to the teachers, and to the gendarme who they’d spoken to and who had alerted some of his colleagues by radio. I was sorry that they’d been so worried, sorry that I had caused disruption and trouble. But I was not sorry at all to have discovered Paris for myself that day. The memories will stay with me forever, even if I never did end up living the life of a bohemian in Montmartre. It’s probably all commercial these days anyway.

Each morning when I awake, I experience again a supreme pleasure - that of being Salvador Dali.

ANNIE LY — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 17:47:46 +0000

Wow. I forgot I had these photos. Taken last Sunday/Monday.. I was lost for quite some time trying t

paris, lördag

shirins — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 13:23:05 +0000

Emelie fotar Notre Dame

Det blev en hel del gående.

Moulin Rouge var magiskt! I loved it.

Karusell utanför Sacre Coeur (till höger).
Sacre Coeur var sedan så otroligt stort, större än jag föreställt mig.

CarroLove skriver vykort

Eiffeltornet by night.

"Not one waistband among us!"

justapinchofsalt — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 14:59:20 +0000

My Favorite Vacation Moments The train ride from Florence to Munich was stunning. I was transported

paris

shirins — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 20:29:42 +0000

Nu är jag tillbaka i bloggen. Tillbaka från Paris!
Eiffeltornet, halvt täckt i dimma.

Jag utanför Moulin Rouge.

På söndan mötte min fina vän Anca upp oss. Vi hade inte setts sen 2007!

I Paris besökte vi nog alla sevärdheter som man har hört talas om. Eiffeltornet, Sacre Coeur, Triumfbågen, Louvren, Moulin Rouge, Notre Dame, Champs Èlysées… Sen upptäckte man att det fanns ännu mer sevärdheter! Men dom får vänta till en annan gång.

From Paris to Marseille

beeabouttravel — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 23:51:05 +0000

Having explored the chilly wonders of Ireland and Holland, we started to head south in search of warmer weather and some French spirit. (Not to mention wine and cheese!)

A pleasant four hour train ride and we found ourselves in Paris Gare du Nord. There is a general hustle and bustle about Paris that I really love. Everyone seems like they have somewhere to be and something to do, and that something will definitely be very glamorous and important.

We waited for about 15 minutes in a queue for a taxi ride which took us about 5 minutes and cost 6 Euros. Not too bad, considering it saved us a walk around a city we didn’t really know!

The receptionist at Montmartre Clignancourt Hotel seemed like he had far more important things to do, but obliged to help us nonetheless. When we arrived, I opened the window of our hotel room and looked down to the streets of Paris below. It’s hard to explain but there is something really captivating about this city! You might see from my photos that I really have a soft spot for this place….

Anyways, we had less than 24 hours to explore the city, and so we headed straight out to make the most of it. First stop, the chalky white cathedral that is Sacre Coeur.

Steps of Sacre Coeur

Literally translated it means Sacred Heart and it really is an amazing Cathedral. There are usually musicians and other artists performing for the crowds on the steps of the Cathedral, and some of them can be really entertaining!

Sacre Coeur

Picture Perfect Sacre Coeur

Granted, Paris is a city in Europe, but the misleading thing about it is that it’s big. Many of the tourist attractions in major European cities are within walking distance of one another. A word of warning – this isn’t the case with Paris! Sure, if you are in the mood for a bit of leg work then no problem, but otherwise you should definitely consider using the city’s extensive public transport network.

A romantic yet brazenly touristy way of seeing Paris is by taking a boat tour along the river Seine. We took the Batobus tour boat, which stops at eight of Paris’s top sights along the river.We hopped off at Notre Dame, which is one of the most impressive as well as photogenic Cathedrals I have seen to date.

Notre Dame Cathedral

Every now and then there is a ‘Shhhhhhh – silence!’ inside the church which seems to quell the murmurs of excited tourists.

Notre Dame

Of course, the piece de resistance of Paris has to be the Eiffel Tower. I remember the first time that I saw it, I jumped up and down like a little girl on Christmas Day, squealing with joy.

Eiffel Tower

Everyone has seen this iconic structure in movies and videos, and there’s just something incredible about seeing it with your own eyes!

Eiffel Tower Classic

If you have the patience to hang around until it gets dark, the Eiffel Tower light show won’t disappoint you. At about 8pm every evening the lights are turned on, and the crowds that have eagerly waited for it start to clap and shout for joy. It’s just one of those special experiences

Eiffel Tower Light Show

Whilst on the topic of the Eiffel Tower, there is something else worth mentioning. Around the base of the Eiffel Tower are several Crepe stands. In case you don’t know, crepes are very thin pancakes which can be served with all different kinds of fillings. Here, Chocolate crepes seem to be some kind of speciality, and I have never had such wafer thin chocolaty crepey goodness in all my life. Yum!

Chocolate Crepes

Of course, as with any tourist attraction there is always the capitalist looking to make a quick buck. We were literally bombarded every few minutes with men trying to sell us kitsch glow-in-the-dark Eiffel Towers and Paris key rings.

It’s sad to see, but there are also a lot of so-called ‘Gypsy’ women clutching their babies and begging for money here.

I have to say that as much as I love Paris, it is a very dirty city. There is lots of rubbish, awful smells, dodgy looking people and copious amounts of dog poo littering the pavements. In a matter of steps we found ourselves in a very unsavoury part of town, and we very quickly went back the way we came.

Speaking of which Our hotel wasn’t too far from the Moulin Rouge, and we decided we had to go have a look, even if it was just to snap off a few shots of the famous windmill. The place was buzzing, and the queue to get in was literally around the block. Surprising, considering it is 100 Euros for a show at 11pm (dinner not included, of course!). Oh well, I suppose if I had some spare Euros I wouldn’t mind seeing what the fuss is all about!

Moulin Rouge

So, after a long day we were quite ready for a good night’s sleep. As we were getting ready for bed, we heard some noise coming from the room above us and we joked and said ‘hopefully they’ll stop soon’.

Basically, the people in the room above us continued to jump around, shout, play music and move furniture until we really thought we were going to have someone come through the ceiling and land in one of our beds. It was that bad.

This went on intermittently until one of the hotel guests eventually went up there and said something, after which the noise miraculously stopped.

In addition to this, Parisian motorcyclists seem to have a thing for revving their engines to the redline, no matter what time of day or night it is.

In a nutshell, it wasn’t a good night for sleeping.

After a not so refreshing night’s sleep, you can imagine our dismay when the hotel fire alarm started wailing at about 7:30 am in the morning. There didn’t seem to be any particular safety procedure in place, and everyone wandered around in mild state of anxiety until the hotel receptionist casually began to inform everyone that there was no need to panic. When the alarm started to go off a second time, nobody even batted an eyelid.

Definitely a big fat ‘X’ for Hotel Montmartre Clignancourt.

At any rate, we got on with the day. Our main item on the agenda was The Louvre, which is of course where the Mona Lisa lives.

The Louvre Museum

We wandered around the courtyard of the Louvre and commented on how quiet it was. Surely it must be open at 9:30am in the morning? There wasn’t even a queue at the Entrance!

Pyramid at The Louvre

It was shortly after this that we saw the sign at the entrance which said ‘The Louvre – Closed on Tuesdays’. No points on guessing which day of the week we had decided to rock up at the Louvre. I should have just realized then that this day wasn’t going to go our way, but you always try to stay positive don’t you?

The Louvre

We decided to go on to Musee D’orsay, where some of Claude Monet’s paintings are housed. I’m not really sure why, but everywhere seemed to be extremely busy on this particular Tuesday and the queue for the Museum was around the block.

Musee D'orsay

The same went for the Notre Dame bell tower and so eventually we just gave up, collected our bags from the hotel and went along to Paris Gare du Nord station.

Notre Dame

We found our train to Marseille without any problems, and got ourselves settled in for the 3 hour journey. It wasn’t long before we found ourselves seated right next to a three year old brat who proceeded to throw a three hour long tantrum all the way from Paris to Marseille. Seriously, people sitting four rows behind us got up and left the carriage because they couldn’t handle it anymore!

The train eventually brought us to lovely Marseille. We were just so happy to get off the train!

I had remembered that the hotel wasn’t very close to the train station, and so we made our way to the taxi stop which we thought was going to be a relatively easy task. We waited for a while until eventually a solitary taxi rolled up. We told him where we wanted to go, to which he said we should get a ‘station taxi’ which was around the corner.

When we got there, the taxi driver told us that it was a just a ‘little five minute walk’ and that we didn’t need to get a taxi. He told us the directions and emphasized that it wasn’t far. After walking for 10 minutes and getting to where the taxi driver had directed us, the hotel was nowhere in sight. Eventually some helpful passers-by gave us the correct directions, and another 15 minute walk and we were at the hotel. We later realized that the taxi drivers hadn’t wanted to take us because the fare versus the amount of time spent in traffic wouldn’t make the trip worth their while.

So instead they let three ladies walk halfway across Marseille with all their luggage – real gentlemen that’s for sure!

Despite the rather soul-destroying events of the day, the beauty of Marseille really picked us up. Plus, the hotel receptionist at Hotel Sylvabelle was so friendly and welcoming that it somewhat restored our faith in mankind

We had an awesome meal at one of the local restaurants, and whilst dodging doggy poo on the way back to the hotel, we realized it really wasn’t so bad after all. Hey – we were in Marseille after all!

Paris & New York Best Views

csrichnyc — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 15:51:59 +0000

Let’s have a good look at what we are talking about…by sharing some of the best vantage points to survey these cities. The obvious; in Paris – the Eiffel Tower, in New York – the Empire State Building, of course they give you that panoramic bird’s eye view of your surroundings, though at heights that obscure the finer details. As magnificent as they are, I find many other sites in both cities provide perspectives that are just as breath taking.

The historical restrictions on the height of buildings in central Paris lends itself to having a small number of extraordinary locations, while in New York the availability of so many office towers provides endless opportunities for less common but still striking views assuming you know someone with access to them.

In Paris, you must often climb many steps to be rewarded with such vistas. You can hike up inside the towers of Notre Dame and while communing with the spirit of Quasimodo, gaze down the Seine. A winding tour of the Pantheon, the final resting place of France’s great men and women, leads you up to a balcony that surrounds its dome. At the top of the Champs-Élysées, in the center of the world’s greatest traffic circle, the Arc de Triomphe will share its majestic view with you. Trek up the famous steps leading to Sacre Coeur where you will be able to take in a grand view overlooking all of Paris. From the Palais de Chaillots looking back across the Seine provides one of the most spectacular views of the Eiffel Tower.

The Galleries Lafayette can lend itself to skyline gazing on its rooftop terrace and the outdoor terraces in the Pompidou and D’Orsay museums offer more modest but still lovely views. The roof top sculpture garden at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in NY provides a delightful view of its Central Park surroundings.

A boat ride along the Seine offers a comfortable way of obtaining a sea level perspective of the heart of Paris from the Eiffel Tower to Notre Dame. In New York the Statue of Liberty provides great views of NY harbor and the downtown financial district, which can also be experienced by taking the free Staten Island Ferry. From Rockefeller Park by the Battery the harbor continues to beckon and is especially captivating at sunset. There are boat tours which circumnavigate the island of Manhattan giving a complete water borne perspective of the island.

In NY driving offers opportunities not readily available by other means. The numerous major bridges surrounding Manhattan each provide dramatic views, especially recommended are the Brooklyn and 59^th street bridges heading into the city. The Brooklyn Queens expressway passing over the Kosciusko Bridge looks out at the entire length of Manhattan.

In both the City of Lights and the City that Never Sleeps try to visit as many of these places after dusk as possible. But the real thrill in exploring these cities will be when you come across an unexpected scene of such beauty that it will stop you in your tracks and leave a big smile of wonder on your face.

Montmartre

morganeguide — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 09:51:22 +0000

Situation :

Sur une butte, ce village qui ne fut annexé à la ville de Paris (18ème arrondissement) qu’en 1860, Montmartre se mérite au prix de quelques efforts : la montée des marches! ou alors pour gagner du temps, prenez le funiculaire…

Petit historique :

Un couvent, des moulins, une carrière et des artistes bohèmes, voilà ce qu’était le petit village bien tranquille de Montmartre. L’abbaye de Montmartre fut détruite après la Révolution Française et se déclare commune libre. Un vent d’anticonformisme souffle déjà sur Montmartre, et ne va que s’accentuer au fil des années, avec l’arrivée d’artistes bohèmes, et d’anarchistes. C’est à Montmartre que s’installent Picasso, Satie, Berlioz, Suzanne Valadon et Utrillo, Raoul Dufy, Dalida… Aujourd’hui véritable quartier touristique, Montmartre garde encore le charme de ses petites ruelles escarpées.

Visite :

Rendez vous en haut du funiculaire, on passe par le musée de Montmartre, les vignes, le château, le moulin de la Galette, le bateau Lavoir, la place du Tertre, on finit par le Sacré Coeur.

Day 3 - Paris

thevirtualroadtrip — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 08:54:12 +0000

Paris, France

After some good night rest I meet Chris at the breakfast table, where we talk about what we’re going to do today. Both of us want to see the main sights, so decisions are made pretty easy. We are going to see sights like the Eifel Tower, Notre Dame, the Sacré Coeur, Arc the Triomphe etc. So it’s going to be a full scheduled day, but we’re sure it’s going to be a lot of fun.

Since it’s still early we decide to start off with the Eifel Tower. This is of course the must visit of Paris, and apparently we are not the only ones that decide to visit this sight as early as possible. There is a wait of 2 hours to go to the top of the tower, can you imagine what it is at mid-day? And besides that it’s quite expensive too, 13 Euros each, that about 20 dollar! Well we decide not to wait and just make some pictures and leave again. It’s way too crowded over here anyway.

We hope that we have more luck at the Sacré Coeur. Thankfully Paris got an excellent metro system so we don’t have to walk that far. Even though we can imagine something worse then walking through the beautiful Paris. When we arrived, there was an unpleasant surprise, 237 steps up the narrow staircase. We could take the ‘Montmartre funicular‘, a little railway. Though of course this is big business and so it’s pretty expensive, so we start walking. When we arrived on the top we decide to just sit for about 20 minutes and enjoy the beautiful view on Paris.

Chris and I always thought the Sacré-Coeur was a quite an old church, well and it is, 100 years is still old though we expected it to be older. It was built for the almost 60 thousand victims in the Franco-Prussian war which ended in the late 19^th century. We also would like to see the church form the inside and we pay a fee to get in. You’re not allowed to take any pictures and you should be quiet, after all it’s still a church. We light a candle in front of one of the several altars and someone asks us to leave the building, because the service is going to start in a few minutes.

The Sacré-Coeur lies on top of the hill Montmartre, which is also the famous artist district. Artist like Vincent van Gogh, Salvador Dalí and Pablo Picasso used to work here, though nowadays it’s, shamefully, more focused on the tourist industry. Though to be honest it’s still nice to walk around even though they try to rip you off and you should watch out for pickpockets, as you should in every big city! Even though we are pretty hungry we decide not to eat yet, because Montmartre is a really expensive lunch place.

We take the metro to a station close to the Notre Dame though not to close because we would like to eat something cheap and easy. We find a nice little restaurant a few blocks from the famous church. After relaxing a bit we visit the Notre Dame. The Notre Dame de Paris, which means ‘the old lady of Paris’, is a Ghotic style Roman-Chatolic church that was completed in 1345, even though they started building in 1163. We decide not to go inside because there is a really big line up before going in to the church. But what do you expect with 14 million visits a year, which is an average of 40.000 a day! Well, and now we do not get inside we can’t break anything either, in 1990 someone removed a candle without authorization, a crime that can lead up to 20 years in prison! Isn’t that insane?

We visit the Arc de Tiomphe, which was nice though the roundabout was pretty busy so Chris and I were not really able to talk properly. After this we walked together along the famous ‘Avenue des Champs-Élysées’. Because it’s already pretty late we decide to go back to the hotel to eat something. The hotel got a nice French menu, which includes the famous Beef Bourguignon of Julia Child. That’s also the course I ordered, with of course a nice red wine. While eating I talked to Chris about the wonderful day we had, unfortunately Chris goes back to the UK tomorrow, so I will be alone again. After dinner I decide to go to the Louvre, I ask Chris if he will join me though he has to pack for tomorrow.

The Louvre, the world most famous museum, is wonderful picture at night. The museum has a really good collection which includes painter like Rembrandt van Rijn, Leonardo da Vinci, Frans Hals, Johannes Vermeer and Rafaël Santi. While reading da Vinci you of course though of the Mona Lisa, and believe me that was also the main reason why I came to visit the Louvre. Thankfully it’s already late in the evening and it isn’t that crowded anymore so I’m able to walk properly through the popular exhibitions.

Though I’m also pretty tired after the busy day and decide not to go to bed that late. I also decided that I’m going to leave Paris tomorrow. There is so much to see that I can stay forever in this wonderful city, though I feel that it was enough for this time. Tomorrow I’m going to the West, but not before I visited the palace of Versailles in the morning!

Are you interested in the city of Paris? Here are some books I recommend. Please click on the picture for more information.

#025: Admirer Paris du haut du Sacré Coeur

jarmolaine — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 11:58:37 +0000

Vous connaissez son petit surnom ? La grosse meringue ! Aaaaah, le butte Montmartre, son parc, sa légende d’Amélie Poulain, le vieux monsieur qui donne à manger aux oiseaux (n’essayez même pas de le prendre en photo, vous seriez bons pour un majeur pointé bien haut !), ses vendeurs à la sauvette et les mille milliards de touristes qui frôlent les marches chaque année…

Sous la butte, un gruyère : les 129 mètres d’altitude ne sont composés que de dédales de passages souterrains creusés à l’époque où une carrière de gypse était exploitée à Montmartre. Pour construire la grosse meringue, il fallut commencer par couler 83 puits de béton (de 33 mètres de profondeur, tout de même) pour ensuite disposer la structure dessus. On dit que le Sacré-Cœur soutient la butte plutôt que le contraire…

Et le Sacré-Coeur de quoi, au fait ? De notre ami Jésus ! La construction de cette basilique, c’était une manière d’expier les horreurs de la Commune et du siège de Paris par les Prussiens en 1870. Que de violence, que de morts… que de pêchés, quoi. Alors pour se faire pardonner, les Français firent massivement des dons afin d’ériger le Sacré-Cœur. Les travaux débutèrent en 1875, et s’achevèrent lorsque la Première Guerre Mondiale éclata. Depuis, les fidèles y assurent jour et nuit le relais ininterrompu de l’adoration perpétuelle. Amen.

L’intérieur de la basilique vaut d’être visitée pour sa taille grandiose et pour l’immense mosaïque de 475m² (dont vous apercevez un bout ci-dessus). Le dôme est une autre attraction de la visite. Après quelques milliers de marches dans une tour sans fin (claustrophobes s’abstenir), Paris s’offre à vous. Outre le soulagement d’être enfin sorti du tunnel (et la légère angoisse qui vous pince le coeur lorsque vous comprenez ce qui vous attend pour la descente), un “ouah” devrait sortir de votre bouche devant l’étendue du paysage (ou un wow pour les anglais, un puta madre pour les italiens et un schaïsseuh pour les allemands).

Aproveche, comme disent les espagnols, surtout si vous passez par là un jour de grand beau temps ! Et ne tremblez pas si la “Savoyarde” se met à beugler, c’est juste une cloche de 18 835 kg que l’on agite en-dessous de vous !

Supplément crânerie : mais au fait, pourquoi la basilique reste si parfaitement blanche alors que la plupart des cathédrales doivent être régulièrement passées au karcher pour retrouver l’éclat de leur jeunesse ? Parce qu’elle a été construite avec un calcaire spécial (de Château-Landon) qui au contraire des autres matériaux, blanchit avec la pluie ! D’ailleurs, scrutez les endroits que la pluie ne peut pas atteindre, au sol : ils sont désespérément noirs…

Truc utile : si vous avez le choix, évitez Montmartre le week-end. C’est noir de monde, on se marche dessus, et l’attraction perd une grande partie de son intérêt.

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Life as a Broke VIP in Paris

inwardescape — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 16:15:36 +0000

Hey guys,

I’m having a bit of difficulty abroad. So, first of all, I went to Paris this past weekend. It was a great trip, but I’ll tell you about that a little later. My trip was from Friday to Monday.

First, I overslept somehow and almost got to the train station too late on Friday morning. You have to be at thestation early for a Eurostar departure, much like an airplane flight. Luckily, a friend woke me up in time and we got to the station on time for our departure. That was the start of my bad day.

Second, I get to the train station, find a cash point and try to withdraw some cash (pounds sterling) to exchange for Euros. Wouldn’t let me withdraw. I try another one. Transaction denied. Now, I knew I hadn’t spent all my money in a week’s time, but I gave myself the benefit of a doubt and tried a lesser amount. Transaction denied. By this time, I was worried. I knew I had money in the bank, but I figured that maybe the bank had put som kind of spending limit on my account. You see, the past week, I had been making lots of reservations online for trips to Paris, Rome, and Zurich. I spent a good penny purchasing tickets for flights, trains, hostels, tours, musuems, etc online.

I also considered the fact that maybe I couldn’t widraw anything from cashpoints, but maybe I could still use my card. wrong. So, I get to London St. Pancras International, where the Eurostar train departs and I try to go to the currency exhange centre. I hoped that somehow I could still use my card to get some euros for the weekend and put this card situation off until I got back to London. So, I go up to the man in the currency booth. I try to get 300 euros. denied. He tries to re-do the transaction. denied. So, he tries a lesser amount (all things I tries previously at the cashpoint). Rejected. So, at this time, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m going to Paris without a dime in my pocket…

Luckily, my friend was with me an offered to help me out with some cash until I figured out what was going on with my card. Besides, they owed me money anyway for some of the reservations. Thank God I wasn’t by myself on the trip.

Later that evening, I’m in the hotel in Paris. I get to the internet (which cost an arm and a leg) and check my bank account. Apparently, there are some bogus charges on my account. So, I call the bank and they tell me it’s a case of fraud. They tell me my card recognized it Friday morning and canceled itself, which is why I wasn’t able to use it all day. They tell me they’re going to have to send me another card. My head is spinning by this time. They tell me it will take them 4-7 days to send it… to my house in Texas. So, then my mom will have to then mail it to me…in London… asap. All this hopefully before I leave for Switzerland and Rome next Wednesday.

So, in other words, as of now, I’m still broke. Well, I’m not broke. I’m worse. I can’t access my money.

Then I get back to London Monday night and my computer dies! Battery died and it wouldn’t charge.

So I try to call my mom to see if she has any solution and to let her know that I made it safely back to London. No more minutes on my phone. And I couldn’t top up my minutes because I had no money!!!

Grrr!!

But lets just say it all worked out…well the computer situation and the phone did. But I still have no money.

Ok. Now that that’s out of the way…

Paris was absolutely wonderful! I loved every minute of it. The weather was spectacular every day (except Saturday). But even rain has it’s own unique beauty to it, in Paris.

The Eurostar train was soooo fast. We got to Paris from London in about 2.5 hours. Didn’t even realize we had crossed over into France until we noticed that the cars we driving on the ‘right’ side of the road. lol. The English Channel is either really narrow, or we were going really fast under it. I think we crossed it in about 20 minutes.

Friday evening, we ate Italian food (ironically). Walked the streets of Paris. Discovered a whole new world of life. We took a cruise on the Seine River through the heart of the city. Bright lights illuminated all of the great musuems, bridges, and buildings of the City of Lights. It was an awesome sight indeed! but it was cold as heck on the water!

After the cruise, we happened to walk down a random alley filled with colorful Indian restaurants. Everytime we passed one up, a host would come out and try to persuade us (in French) to come eat. I mean, they came right up to us, in our face and followed us down the path… like we were celebrities… trying to get us to stop and eat. It seemed kind of rude how they were pestering us like that. But oh well, that’s life. That’s their hustle.

After escaping the alley, we found ourselves on an “urban” backstreet of Paris. Full of black people. I felt like I was in West End Atlanta all over again. No, really. I felt at home… well, yea.. lol. I eventually found a little fried chicken restaurant around the corner to eat at. Good chicken sandwich and fries. And a Coke

The next morning was a little hectic… Don’t wanna go into that. But we hiked down to the enormous Musee du Louvre and the elegant Jardin des Tuileries. It was a rainy and cold day but somehow Paris is beautiful no matter the weather. We must’ve walked 3 plus miles that day because we walked to the Louvre from the hotel, then followed the river all the way to the Eiffel Tower… which alone was about 2 miles – in the rain.

But the walk was more than worth it. We had lunch reservations for a restaurant on the first floor of the Eiffel Tower. When we finally got there, We were blessed to be able to skip the endless line at the bottom (because of our online reservation). Lunch was awesome! And the way restaurants in Paris work is unique (and so cool). You get to pick either a starter and an entree, or an entree and dessert. It’s to save you money. I mean, if you want all three courses, please don’t let me stop you… big baller. lol. I had a lackluster Ceasar Salad for a starter and a perfectly cooked Salmon dish as an entree. And a Coke
The view from the restaurant was awesome! I felt like a celebrity for a day. Oh, the name of the restaurant is the 58 Tour Eiffel, in case you decide to visit one day. I won’t tell you how much we spent. But it was well worth the price… Who gets to say they had lunch on the Eiffel Tower? lol

Following lunch, we decided to take a little trip up the Tower to the second and third levels. First of all, you have pay to get to each level. All together, its about 15 euros per person… that’s about 25 dollars. The line to get to the second level was manageable. The view you get from the second level is comparable to the view you get from the first level. Therefore, everyone wants to get to the peak. The top. Le sommet. That line, from level 2 to the top, was stupidly long. I could’ve taken a nap, woken up, and still been waiting to get up there. Now, you ask why didn’t I just take the stairs? [clears throat.] Next time you stop by the Eiffel Tower on a rainy (or sunny) day, you walk all the way up there. Go ahead. No one is stopping you. Just so you know, it’s seven hundred and ten wet, slippery, cold iron steps to the top. Good luck! the view you’ll get is well worth the journey!

As an intelligent Renaissance Man, I took the elevator.

After La Tour Eiffel, we hopped on a tour bus (that we prviously paid for) and rode back to the Louvre. We were pressed for time because we had dinner reservations for 7pm that night. This is Saturday by the way. I am proud to say that we conquered the entire Lourve Museum, one of the largest museums in the world, in an hour. Yep. One hour. It took me 4 hours to get through the British Museum, and still didn’t finish it. The Louvre is about 3 times the size of the British Museum… and has alot of similar artifacts. Saw Mona Lisa. Saw Winged Victory. Saw Hercules. Saw Napoleon. Saw Venus de Milo. Saw the lackluster Egyptian exhibition. All that in one hour! Beat that

Back to the hotel, got dressed up and rushed to the restaurant to meet our reservation. Got to the restaurant early… too early. Realized we were overdressed, a little. Had a few drinks. Manager didn’t speak English. Ate our expensive meal. I had fish… wasn’t all that. If you go, get the lamb or chicken. Then we left to find dessert – cheaper dessert. lol. Food was good. I mark Saturday as the day of living like a celebrity… expensive resturants, VIP lines, etc. It was a great day in the end.

OK. almost done. I’ll keep the rest brief.

Sunday.

We got up really early then took the train to Chateau de Versailles, home of the extremely narcissistic Louis XIV, Roi de France (King of France). He’s actually the longest reigning European monarch in history, if I’m not mistaken. Anyway.. the palace is more than huge. Bigger than enormous. In other words, it fits my Texas tastes perfectly. lol. just kidding. It would take me forever to go into detail about that experience. So, I’ll save it.

Three and a half hours later, we found our way out of the palace and on a double decker train back to Paris. We got off the train at The Eiffel Tower and got to take great pictures. The weather was entirely too nice not to. lol. Then, we got back on the tour bus, with our 2-day pass and rode around to Notre Dame. Saw that. Got back on the bus to The Grand Opera. Couldn’t go inside, but took pictures outside.

Then we walked down the street to the Eglise de la Madeleine (Church of the Madeleine – the Saint, that is). Ironically, the monlithic Christian church is built to look exactly like the Parthenon in Greece, which was a temple to worship the ancient Greek gods. Inside, a youth symphony was holding a concert. Their sound was amazingly beautiful in the spacious cathedral. No pictures were allowed inside at the time. Then, we walked the entire length of the Champs-Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe. I stopped to eat McDonalds! Did you that in France, you can order beer as your drink at McDonalds? That would never fly in the US. Later, we walked back to the Eiffel Tower to see the awesome and exciting light show commemorating its 120th anniversary.

Finally, Monday morning, we trekked up to Montmatre and Sacre Coeur for a jaw dropping view of the Paris skyline in the afternoon sun. Then we checked out of the hotel and hopped back on the superfast Eurostar for a quiet trip back to London.

Ok. I’m done now. Sorry that took so long. lol. Pray for me and my money. If you don’t pray, then send me some money… please!

Au Revoir Mes Amis!

Celebrating 3 years

nerak — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 14:05:51 +0000

Earlier this month, we celebrated our third wedding anniversary. We celebrated over two weekends: on the actual day of our anniversary we spent the afternoon at the Courtauld Gallery on the Strand, and eating wontons in Chinatown. We also dropped by Konditor & Cook for a late night slice of Curly Whirly Cake. It was fabulous.

The following weekend, we spent three days in Paris. C’etait magnifique! Actually, I realized that within the last ten years, I’ve forgotten the vast majority of the French I studied in high school/college. But never mind, we still had a great time. Highlights included renting the Velib’ bicycles on both Saturday and Monday and riding along the Seine. The weather was perfect for a nice autumn ride. We took an evening stroll through the Centre Pompidou and a late night post-rainstorm ride (the stairs were not an option) up the Eiffel Tower. We found a lovely little restaurant for a late dinner, and spent our last afternoon enjoying the atmosphere in Montmartre, winding through the streets surrounding the Sacre Coeur, and riding on the funicular railway. Both of us think Paris is absolutely beautiful. Hopefully we’ll be able to go back soon.

Nous deux (sous la pluie)

Karina — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 07:33:02 +0000

Paris skyline

fabian foo — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 07:32:35 +0000

Looking southwest across Paris towards the Eiffel Tower from the dome of the Basilica du Sacré-Cœur. Paris, France.

Sacrément coriace!

manueceretti — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 13:10:32 +0000

Bon, je n’ai qu’une chose à dire, je suis amoureuse!

…Héhé je vous ai fait peur! Je suis amoureuse d’Alexis Martin! Bon, je l’étais déjà, mais ah! Je l’aime tant! Bon, trève de manque d’objectivité, tous en scène!

Je suis arrivée à l’Espace Libre sans attente aucune et je n’ai pas été déçu. J’avais lu quelques pièces d’Alexis Martin auparavant et je savais que son style d’écriture me touchait. Je n’ai donc pas été difficile à convaincre. Les acteurs étaient très bons, en particulier Alexis Martin, homme versatile, Jacques L’Heureux, émouvant et amusant à en pleurer (je l’ai fait!). Tous versatiles, offrant une personnalité différente à chaque personnage. L’acteur principal ne m’a, toutefois, pas touché. Son ascension bâtarde et sa fin heureuse n’avait pas vraiment d’emprise sur mes sentiments.

Par rapport à la scénographie, je trouvais cela très interessant. Le fait de pouvoir faire différent endroit dans le même décor en changeant seulement quelques rideaux était une bonne idée et la salle comme telle est toujours aussi intime, ce qui nous rend proche du destin des personnages.

Note : 8/10 (mention à Alexis Martin et Jacques L’Heureux… ahh passe-montagne!)