And We're Away
From Nottingham to Paris
The ride to London was fairly uneventful. After all I have made the journey a few times. We were actually on time and on the bus so that was a good start. In London we grabbed a bite and then checked in at the Eurolines counter for the 11:30am London to Paris service. We loaded our packs in the cargo bays and we were off.
The ride to the edge of London takes about an hour. In that journey we passed by the Battersea Power Station and through Greenwich. The radio was playing a London Carribean station with a lively DJ. It kept things a bit light I guess. At Dover we pulled into a customs garage, got off the bus and went through French passport control before getting on the bus to await the drive onto the ferry.
Dover is on top and beneath its famed high white cliffs. The scene is one of much contrast with the blue sky, white rock, green grass, yellow mustard in the fields above and the greenish-blue of the Strait of Dover. The bus finally pulled on and parked, and at 3:45pm (Paris time) we embarked. The ride was quite smooth, though with some of the sharper banks, people walking around looked as if they'd had a few. Perhaps they had. There were a couple bars on the boat, as well as coffee shops, bookstores, pharmacies, and video arcades. We approached Calais, on the northeastern tip of Normandy about ninety minutes from leaving Dover, and after returning to the bus we headed out into France.
France definitely felt different than England right away. Aside from the lefthand-drive vehicles and roads, there is much more space. Traffic lanes are wider, towns are farther apart. It's very much like Canada really.
Not far down the road we were jolted by a hard brake as the bus pulled to the shoulder. I hadn't realised at first but Darryl pointed out that the cargo bay door had popped open. We looked back on the road and sure enough there were a couple of bags about 200 metres back in the shoulder. The driver went running back to pick them up, and as he was coming back I noticed that one of the bags was Darryl's pack. Luckily there was nothing very breakable in there, which a check on arrival in Paris verified.
Just before coming into Paris, a police-type car with "Douanes" (customs) on it guided us into a truck stop. A horde of navy-blue clad officers stepped out, and then two more cars arrived, one with a drug-sniffing dog. As it was our arrival was delayed. This was sure to push it even further. The officers took all of the luggage out of the bays and let the dog sniff around. After about ten minutes, they came on board with the canine and had him sniff up and down the aisle. One guy got a little more of a sniff than everyone else, so he got off the bus for further checking. The guy sitting near us said "Welcome to France" to us in a disgusted tone. He got in an argument with one of the officers. It was so very French. The words "democracie" and "liberte" were uttered. Vive la Republique.
We finally got to Paris. Now it was a matter of figuring out the Metro, Paris's answer to the London Underground, though I'm not sure which came first. My French housemate, Tamba, had given me a map and some advice the night before so I knew it shouldn't be too hard. We bought our single tickets and headed into the depths in search of our hostel. The destination station was quite easy to find. Once we were up on the street, however, it was a little more challenging. We eventually figured it out and checked ourselves in to the Hotel Richard.
I was impressed with the hostel. The web reviews had made it sound worse than it actually was. I guess with those it's important to consider the age, gender and nationality of the reviewers. We had our own room with a sink and a window onto the street. The following night we would have to change to a four-bed dorm with ensuite bathroom, but we ended up having it to ourselves anyway. After settling in a bit we wandered around, pack-free, and took in the Paris evening. The cafes were open, with their big front windows opening onto the street. We retired after a long day of sitting, waiting and walking, ready for our first full day in Paris.
In the morning we moved to our new room and then headed out toward Cimitaire Pere Lachaise, quite near to our hostel. This is where many famous Parisians and foreigners are buried. The most visited grave of course, is Jim Morrison's, which we found after a few wrong turns. The cemetary is like a little city itself, with street names, cobbled roads, and lots of trees.
From there we picked up some Mobilis, the all-day passes for the Metro. We decided to head down the line to the Eiffel Tower and then work our way back to the Louvre. We got off at Trocadero, across the river, but from where we were we could not see the tower. We headed down one of Haussman's long avenues toward the Arc de Triomphe, where we spent some time looking at the views and the mad traffic. We then moved back toward our starting point and eventually came upon the massive Tour Eiffel, across the Seine.
We spent some time at the tower and then began to walk along the Seine toward Les Invalides. For the most part, not having a map other than the Metro's, we weren't exactly sure what we were seeing, but we eventually came to the end of the Champs d'Elysee and the Louvre. We were getting hungry so we ducked down into St.-Germain, an area full of bustling cafes and shops. It was a nice area and we stopped in at a cafe to do our Internet duties. Darryl searched around the area for a little food shop.
We were killing some time until 6:00pm when the Louvre was cheaper. The museum is open until 10:00pm on Wednesdays so this was perfect timing for us. Once we worked out which Metro to take, we began our exploration of Louis' old house. The palace is huge, and we knew we would barely scratch the surface in a three hour visit. At the centre of the courtyard is I.M. Pei's glass pyramid that houses the museum entrance and foyer. We decided, tourists that we are, to head up to the Denon wing to see works like the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo and Nike of Samothrace.
We saw the pieces we had hoped to. The Mona Lisa is not as I was expecting. People have always told me it's tiny and it's in its own little room. First of all it wasn't as tiny as I had expected, just about right. And it's actually in a large room embedded in its own partition wall. I guess perhaps the popularity of The Da Vinci Code has increased visitation to the piece. They have probably changed her situation a bit.
We separated for a bit while Darryl tended to his aching feet. He was tempted to dip them in the fountain outside but resisted. We reconvened and finished up our tour at the Napolean III apartments, a kind of preserved part of the mansion from its regal days.
We headed back toward the hostel and, crossing the Seine on a pedestrian bridge, came across dozens of groups of people of all ages sitting on the bridge, enjoying the beautiful weather, eating bread and drinking wine. It doesn't get much more Parisian than that. We decided we'd like to do that on our last night in the city. Let's hope the weather co-operates.
A quick stop back at the Eiffel Tower for some night shots. We grabbed some crepes from a stand at a carousel nearby. They were better than the ones in Derby as you can well imagine, though I have no complaints about those, other than the maple syrup incident. At the tower, there was more Parisian leisure to be witnessed. Picnickers on the Champs de Mars, some quiet, some singing French songs, many with dogs and most with wine.
That pretty much wrapped up our first full day in Paris. There is still much to see and do here before we head north to Belgium. Vive la Republique.
Cheers.
The ride to London was fairly uneventful. After all I have made the journey a few times. We were actually on time and on the bus so that was a good start. In London we grabbed a bite and then checked in at the Eurolines counter for the 11:30am London to Paris service. We loaded our packs in the cargo bays and we were off. The ride to the edge of London takes about an hour. In that journey we passed by the Battersea Power Station and through Greenwich. The radio was playing a London Carribean station with a lively DJ. It kept things a bit light I guess. At Dover we pulled into a customs garage, got off the bus and went through French passport control before getting on the bus to await the drive onto the ferry.
Dover is on top and beneath its famed high white cliffs. The scene is one of much contrast with the blue sky, white rock, green grass, yellow mustard in the fields above and the greenish-blue of the Strait of Dover. The bus finally pulled on and parked, and at 3:45pm (Paris time) we embarked. The ride was quite smooth, though with some of the sharper banks, people walking around looked as if they'd had a few. Perhaps they had. There were a couple bars on the boat, as well as coffee shops, bookstores, pharmacies, and video arcades. We approached Calais, on the northeastern tip of Normandy about ninety minutes from leaving Dover, and after returning to the bus we headed out into France.
France definitely felt different than England right away. Aside from the lefthand-drive vehicles and roads, there is much more space. Traffic lanes are wider, towns are farther apart. It's very much like Canada really.
Not far down the road we were jolted by a hard brake as the bus pulled to the shoulder. I hadn't realised at first but Darryl pointed out that the cargo bay door had popped open. We looked back on the road and sure enough there were a couple of bags about 200 metres back in the shoulder. The driver went running back to pick them up, and as he was coming back I noticed that one of the bags was Darryl's pack. Luckily there was nothing very breakable in there, which a check on arrival in Paris verified.
Just before coming into Paris, a police-type car with "Douanes" (customs) on it guided us into a truck stop. A horde of navy-blue clad officers stepped out, and then two more cars arrived, one with a drug-sniffing dog. As it was our arrival was delayed. This was sure to push it even further. The officers took all of the luggage out of the bays and let the dog sniff around. After about ten minutes, they came on board with the canine and had him sniff up and down the aisle. One guy got a little more of a sniff than everyone else, so he got off the bus for further checking. The guy sitting near us said "Welcome to France" to us in a disgusted tone. He got in an argument with one of the officers. It was so very French. The words "democracie" and "liberte" were uttered. Vive la Republique.
We finally got to Paris. Now it was a matter of figuring out the Metro, Paris's answer to the London Underground, though I'm not sure which came first. My French housemate, Tamba, had given me a map and some advice the night before so I knew it shouldn't be too hard. We bought our single tickets and headed into the depths in search of our hostel. The destination station was quite easy to find. Once we were up on the street, however, it was a little more challenging. We eventually figured it out and checked ourselves in to the Hotel Richard.
I was impressed with the hostel. The web reviews had made it sound worse than it actually was. I guess with those it's important to consider the age, gender and nationality of the reviewers. We had our own room with a sink and a window onto the street. The following night we would have to change to a four-bed dorm with ensuite bathroom, but we ended up having it to ourselves anyway. After settling in a bit we wandered around, pack-free, and took in the Paris evening. The cafes were open, with their big front windows opening onto the street. We retired after a long day of sitting, waiting and walking, ready for our first full day in Paris.
In the morning we moved to our new room and then headed out toward Cimitaire Pere Lachaise, quite near to our hostel. This is where many famous Parisians and foreigners are buried. The most visited grave of course, is Jim Morrison's, which we found after a few wrong turns. The cemetary is like a little city itself, with street names, cobbled roads, and lots of trees.
From there we picked up some Mobilis, the all-day passes for the Metro. We decided to head down the line to the Eiffel Tower and then work our way back to the Louvre. We got off at Trocadero, across the river, but from where we were we could not see the tower. We headed down one of Haussman's long avenues toward the Arc de Triomphe, where we spent some time looking at the views and the mad traffic. We then moved back toward our starting point and eventually came upon the massive Tour Eiffel, across the Seine.
We spent some time at the tower and then began to walk along the Seine toward Les Invalides. For the most part, not having a map other than the Metro's, we weren't exactly sure what we were seeing, but we eventually came to the end of the Champs d'Elysee and the Louvre. We were getting hungry so we ducked down into St.-Germain, an area full of bustling cafes and shops. It was a nice area and we stopped in at a cafe to do our Internet duties. Darryl searched around the area for a little food shop.
We were killing some time until 6:00pm when the Louvre was cheaper. The museum is open until 10:00pm on Wednesdays so this was perfect timing for us. Once we worked out which Metro to take, we began our exploration of Louis' old house. The palace is huge, and we knew we would barely scratch the surface in a three hour visit. At the centre of the courtyard is I.M. Pei's glass pyramid that houses the museum entrance and foyer. We decided, tourists that we are, to head up to the Denon wing to see works like the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo and Nike of Samothrace.
We saw the pieces we had hoped to. The Mona Lisa is not as I was expecting. People have always told me it's tiny and it's in its own little room. First of all it wasn't as tiny as I had expected, just about right. And it's actually in a large room embedded in its own partition wall. I guess perhaps the popularity of The Da Vinci Code has increased visitation to the piece. They have probably changed her situation a bit.
We separated for a bit while Darryl tended to his aching feet. He was tempted to dip them in the fountain outside but resisted. We reconvened and finished up our tour at the Napolean III apartments, a kind of preserved part of the mansion from its regal days.
We headed back toward the hostel and, crossing the Seine on a pedestrian bridge, came across dozens of groups of people of all ages sitting on the bridge, enjoying the beautiful weather, eating bread and drinking wine. It doesn't get much more Parisian than that. We decided we'd like to do that on our last night in the city. Let's hope the weather co-operates.
A quick stop back at the Eiffel Tower for some night shots. We grabbed some crepes from a stand at a carousel nearby. They were better than the ones in Derby as you can well imagine, though I have no complaints about those, other than the maple syrup incident. At the tower, there was more Parisian leisure to be witnessed. Picnickers on the Champs de Mars, some quiet, some singing French songs, many with dogs and most with wine.
That pretty much wrapped up our first full day in Paris. There is still much to see and do here before we head north to Belgium. Vive la Republique.
Cheers.
posted by Mark Bauche at 9:32 AM
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