Ah, Paris. The train ride through the French countryside was just as picturesque as one would expect it to be. Rows of yellows, greens, and browns stacked off into the horizon like a scene straight from a Van Gogh. It was a relaxing and inviting entrance into a country we were quite intimidated by. Our first worry was getting from the train station to the hotel. I had arranged for a driver to transport us, but being a frugal bastard, I refused to shell out the extra money for an English speaking driver. Luckily, we didn’t really need to converse at all with the man, as he was, I can only assume, concentrating on coming as close as possible to hitting every pedestrian and bicyclists he could find. A stream of what seemed to be very unpleasant French words spewed from his mouth as he gesticulated angrily out the window at every light and turn. We just smiled in the backseat, happy we didn’t fail our first test miserably.

I loved the hotel we stayed in so much, that I want to give it a solid shoutout here. Our room was beautiful – classically French with its busy wallpaper and two balconies overlooking the street. We stayed outside of the main tourist areas, so we were basically in the middle of a residential section of the city. It was quiet (well, as quiet as it can be in a major city) and gorgeous. Over the few days that we stayed in France, we spent a few nights at the hotel’s bar (drinking an entire bottle of wine on my own in one night – I’m so proud) and also tasted their delectable room service (perhaps the best food we had in France). The bartender, David, was apparently as friendly to everyone in the hotel as he was to us as the bar was filled each night with faces from around the world (all of them English speaking, ironically enough) who stopped in for a drink just to talk with him. We made some friends at that bar, and talking about our day and our observations over a glass of wine or beer made us feel comfortable and at home. If anyone is going to Paris, I strongly recommend you consider the Victoria Palace.

For our first night in France, we had a pre-ordered ticket to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Looking at our map, we decided that we could walk it, even though the Eiffel Tower was definitely quite a distance from our hotel. Honestly, we didn’t want to bother with the Metro and we hadn’t needed to resort to a taxi yet on our trip. Also, we figured it would be a nice way to see the city. So off we went on foot. Upon leaving our hotel and turning right, we were immediately lost for the first of many, many times. The streets in Paris all look the same and there are A LOT of them crisscrossing in every direction. Walking in a direction that in the end doubled the distance we had to cover, we did eventually make it to the Eiffel Tower, and along the way we walked along the Seine and saw many beautiful places (Grand Palace, Invalides). For hours we just strolled around, relaxing in the parks and taking in the city.

The biggest difference between Paris and London (aside from the graffiti covering everything in Paris) was the tourists. In Paris, the tourists seemed to stick strictly to the main attractions – perhaps afraid to venture off into the city – whereas in London, people were evenly dispersed everywhere. This heavy concentration of foreigners led, unfortunately, to really long lines in all of the major places – the Eiffel Tower being the worst. Now, luckily since we had pre-ordered a ticket, we got through the first line easily. It was 10:00 pm when we started our ascent. In Paris, the sun doesn’t go down until nearly 11, so it was still sunny. Once on the second floor (the middle) of the tower, you get off the elevator and have to wait in another line to go to the top. Herein lay the rub. This line took over an hour. Yes, there was a nice view while we waited, but it was packed up there! We stuck it out and eventually made our way to the top. By this time, the sun was setting, and we were able to see Paris – the City of Lights – at nighttime. It was lovely, and I was glad in a way that it had taken us so long to reach the top.

Coming back down, we had to wait in another line and were nearly stampeded getting into the elevator. We were back on the ground before midnight. As we watched, the Eiffel Tower (pink during the day and a bright, glowing gold at night) began to sparkle (the four seconds I caught on camera and out trip up the elevator can be seen here: VIDEOS), and crowds gathered beneath the bows to watch. This is when something quite terrible happened. Right behind us a man got hit by a car, and I’m pretty sure he was dead. The man who was hit was one the many men who were selling souvenir towers to tourists on the streets. The other vendors ran to help, blocking traffic, but when the cops showed up, it became clear that there was some kind of long-standing problem between the two groups. Soon, and for a reason we could not discern, fighting broke out between the vendors and the cops (the guy who had been hit just left in the road). Batons and pepperspray came out, and after hanging around for awhile, entranced by the chaos, we decided to escape before the riot made it down to us. It was a little scary, and I honestly have to say that I was a bit shaken up at this point. We headed back to our hotel, vowing this time to take a more direct route.

Having wasted time watching the bedlam, I was dismayed to realize that it was nearing 1 AM at this point.  We had just seen a dead man and a riot, we didn’t speak the language, and soon enough we were completely lost. We were determined to make it back to our hotel, and with a lot of fast walking and map checking, we managed to make it back in one piece. It was a stressful first night, but exhilarating in some strange way.

Over the next few days, we visited many places; however, we got far less done than we did in London. Paris is a much slower moving city. People crowd into cafes that litter every corner, smoking and drinking at all hours (one American couple we ran into asked, “Don’t these people ever work?”). Also, because lines were longer in most places we wanted to go, we started skipping around more, knowing that it would be impossible to see it all. We did eventually master the Metro (much easier than we thought it would be) which helped our poor feet tremendously. We went to Notre Dame (gorgeous), the Arc de Triomphe (in the middle of the craziest intersection/roundabout in the world), the Louvre (so big we actually got lost), and the Musee d'Orsay (just like Doctor Who!). We window shopped along the Champs-Elysees. We saw a cheesy burlesque show (45 of Paris’ top topless women!!).We visited Pere Lachaise, an old cemetery where Oscar Wilde, Chopin, Jim Morrison, and a bunch of famous people are buried. The cemetery is miles wide, and the dead people are crammed in there like sardines. It was fun to search for the famous people (with the aid of a map that gave you the area they were in). A lot of the tombs and crypts were in ruins and were quite spooky, but the place had a certain measure of tranquility to it overall.

We also spent a day at Versailles. Do the French know how to be over-the-top opulent or what?! Check out the pictures of this place – gold and crystal everywhere! No wonder there were a few heads lost over time. It is crazy packed in Versailles, but the key is to walk to the back of the grounds where all the lazy tourists don’t go. After touring the main palace, we went out to the gardens and embarked on a 60 minute walk through the hedge mazes to the back where there a few “small” palaces (the Grand Trianon, the Petit Trianon, and the Hameau de la reine). These recreational palaces were huge. The hamlet was by far the best; so peaceful and perfect. Definitely worth it.

When we decided to go to Paris, one of the first things I put on the “to do” list was a visit to the Catacombs, so on our last day there, we set out south. The Catacombs, for obvious reasons I think, are a far less touristy place. There are no signs or buildings or gift shops. A simple metal door in the middle of an unmarked building carries a small sign that you wouldn’t even be able to read from across the street. There was, despite all of this, quite a lengthy line. I was really surprised about this, and I was even more shocked to find that after standing in the line for 45 minutes, we really hadn’t moved more than a few feet. After some investigation, I figured out why: only 200 people are allowed to be in the tombs at once. Being that it’s nearly a 2 mile trek underground, the going was quite slow. We stuck it out, as I was more excited than ever after seeing a warning next to the door that people with heart conditions, children, or nervous conditions should not go in.

When it was our turn to enter, we did so on our own – no groups or tour – just me and Parry descending 182 stone spiral steps into darkness. Nothing has been touched underground. Other than a few lights that barely illuminate the tunnels enough to walk through, there are no changes made to anything – no ropes, no plastic, no handles, etc. When you reach the bottom of the steps you are in a dark, narrow, low-ceilinged, cold (around 55 degrees), wet walkway. It was truly frightening. Once you’re down, there is no way to get back up other than to walk through to the end. Also, there are only employees positioned in two or three key places throughout the entire catacombs, so it was basically just me and Parry – not one other person could be seen ahead of us for the first half of our walk. We set off with trepidation, and I snapped random pictures for the sake of the flash. I honestly didn’t know what to expect down there, and I would have been happy just being in the tunnels, but what I didn’t know was that the tomb was yet to come.

At some point, right before entering the actual tombs, we ran into a school tour, so we were no longer alone in the dark. Turning the corner, we nearly pooped ourselves. The actually tomb part of the catacombs consists of walls made completely of skulls and leg/arm bones. The bones are just piled there – anyone could touch or take them (they search people on the way out for bones). I kept poking the skulls, to Parry’s dismay. It was absolutely insane – the most unique, crazy thing I’ve seen. The pictures don’t do it justice, but for those of you who love a bit of the macabre, this is the stop for you.


When it was time to leave France, we were truly sad. In fact, we still are. Just as we were settled in – just as we were getting comfortable speaking and getting around – it was time to leave. Sure, Parry had ordered food wrong and been chastised by an angry French woman in some café… Sure, we had seen riots and been lost in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere… Sure, our feet needed nothing short of amputation… But we didn’t want to leave. After a shitty plane ride home, we got our dog (who was relieved to have us back) and returned to our sweltering house in South Park (101 degrees – way to turn off the air conditioning me).

I’m sure there’s a lot more to say, but I just can’t type anymore!!! Check out the videos here: VIDEOS Enjoy the pictures here: Pictures