Part III: Paris or “How to say ‘Bonjour’ and other helpful French Phrases

So there we were, in the elevator of the L’Hotel Arch di Triomphe, a giant man who was playing in the French Open in a few days and me. At least I assume he was playing, as he looked like someone who would be a professional athlete and was also carrying a tennis racket. Only a few weeks prior I had to explain to someone that the French Open was not, in fact, a golf tournament. However, I must confess that is the extend of my knowledge of Tennis.

I should have remembered that before I made a clumsy attempt at, I won’t say seduction, but flattery.

“So…. Are you going to be swearing any oaths on the Tennis Court? Because I read a book about those once, they don’t end well. Pretty Bloody.”
“What?”
“Good Luck!” Then I got off and waited 4 minutes for another elevator.

Sometimes I forget I am a 13 year old girl trapped in a grown woman’s body. Also no one thinks jokes about the French Revolution are funny. Too soon.

We have arrived in Paris. This morning we had left London via the Chunnel.

The Chunnel is an engineering marvel, and not just because of what it does (connecting France and England by a virtually highwayman-free thoroughfare) but also by how it was made. It took the better part of a decade but a total of eleven boring machines starting on either end worked to cut through the chalk and marl bed of the English Channel. Shockingly, the project was completed on time (take THAT Big Dig).

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/59/Channel_Tunnel_geological_profile_1.svg/1000px-Channel_Tunnel_geological_profile_1.svg.png

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Eurotunnel_schema_(empty_service).svg

A modern marvel that was (and still is) revolutionary, the only room for improvement is if the sandwiches on board didn’t cost six pounds.

Once we arrived in Paris, deposited our things and I committed at least one act of social suicide, we were ready to hit the town. As an American, it’s easy to fall into the pit of the stereotypical tourist who wonders Paris dazed, smitten, romanced. This being the fourth time being in the eternal city of light, I assumed that, in part due to my experiences the last time, the affect had finally worn of. In 2007, I had almost gotten my bag stolen by a vagrant and had gotten into a shouting tussle about why I was not going to pay him for the effort. Eventually we were broken up by the transit police of Montmatre. A group of gypsies started following me down the street and I was only able to lose them in the hostel lobby. On top of that it was a rainy week in April and to paraphrase T.S. Eliot, “April blows.”

I’m not going to say I didn’t love every minute of the trip in 2007, but looking back then, Paris seemed like a beautiful and cruel partner in a dysfunctional relationship. Paris was bullying and indifferent, but as they say “you got to be big if you treat pretty girls bad.”

This time around, the weather seemed to be doing its best to apologize for past mistakes by shining in the most magical way. As Hepburn once quipped “the light is almost pink”.

Walking down the street gave off a feeling of such intoxication that it was probably illegal. Everything seemed weightless, delicate, charming. Being in a place like that, one can also feel weightless, delicate and charming which must be why French women are the way they are.

From an architectural perspective, Paris is either a city that serves as enduring inspiration to be put on a pedestal (as the lost generation writers and the etudents de la Acadamie de Beaux Arts did) or an archaic and backwards relic, worthy of destruction, (as Le Corbusier did). However, one aspect cannot be ignored, the city for better or worse, feels like something. When you see a picture of Paris, it looks like Paris. It sounds obvious, but in much of contemporary architecture it could be anywhere. Milwalkee could just as easily be Miami. Paris sometimes cartoonishly, looks like itself and always finds a way to enchant, young or old, naïve or cynical.

(For more information on the phenomenon of Architectural Personalities and the populations that reflect it (In an American and Canadian perspective) I recommend Richard Florida’s “Who’s Your City? http://www.creativeclass.com/whos_your_city/ )

But back to the show.

As we were traveling in a group of three (a walking joke of a blonde, a brunette and a red-head) and one of the trio had never been to Paris before we decided to hit the well trekked landmarks.

The Arch de Triomphe – constructed by Napoleon to commemorate a battle to win a land that he had no rightful claim to. The roman spirit was alive and well in Imperial France. If you get a chance, you really should look up the Battle of Austerlitz, it was actually, kind of amazing.

The Louvre – There things you do while traveling that are “Cliché” For example, seeing the Mona Lisa. The Mona Lisa is an extraordinary painting, but it is not the ONLY extraordinary painting. Say what you want, but when you walk into a room with a 15’ X 20’ DelaCroix painting. The only thing you can say is “wow.” On a previous trip I had spent the entire day in the Louvre. From open to close, I packed a lunch and was just enveloped in it all day. Too much is never enough, the first sign of addiction. It also makes you think “Damn. Europe stole a lot of stuff from people”

La Notre Dame – There aren’t really words. You just kind of have to go. However! I can tell you an interesting fact:

This famous painting by David is actually set in La Notre Dame

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/08/Jacques-Louis_David%2C_The_Coronation_of_Napoleon_edit.jpg

After the Revolution, the church was turned into a “Temple of Reason”, however much like the calendar that was invented to eliminate all traces of the past (it’s a real thing) –http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/French_Republican_Calendar - The French people eventually came to their senses and put it back the way it was supposed to be.

You know, my favorite part of the time we spent in Paris was on the Champs-Élysées. It was the first time I got to actually “stroll”. Most of the times I have traveled, it’s similar to being carted from stop to stop never really getting a feel for a place. The Champs-Élyséesis a glamorous place and a place that makes you feel glamorous.

Next Time on European adventures:

Part 4: Getting Trapped In Cramped Loud Spaces and How to Escape from Them While Still Enjoying Modern Art.