Paris Was Not What I Expected

I felt like I was escaping Nazi occupied France. The Frenchman with a heavy accent was telling us to sneak on the train and hope that no one checks to see if we have a valid ticket while on board. If we were approached by the authorities, we were to say that we are Americans and must catch a flight out of Paris the next day and that because of the strike, we must board the train today before the strike starts.

The Frenchman was Yann and his approach was to scam our way onto the train to Paris.

Corey's approach was to be truthful and simply tell the conductor that we'd like to get on the train before the strike starts.

The train employees were on strike all over France. It was due to take place on Tuesday, the day before we were supposed to leave for Paris. We were going to go to Italy on Tuesday, but, we had to leave that day in order to make it in to the city. (boohoo...poor me...heehee).

Weeks before, Corey bought tickets online for around $60 per ticket. She was required to cancel them in order to change the date of the trip. On Monday, we saw the prices rise to $250 on up. They were taking advantage of the people trying to get into Paris before the strike took place.

We got to the station and Corey convinced Yann to simply tell the conductor that we'd like to get on the train being that we have paid tickets for later in the week, but that we need to leave today in order to beat the start of the strike.

The conductor allowed us on and we breathed easy.

We streaked through the French country side at 200 mph. It was picturesque the whole way through with ancient farm houses dotting the landscape and mountains along the horizon. What is normally a 7 hour drive by car took 3 hours by bullet train.

When you think of Paris, what do you picture?

I pictured clean streets, snotty, mean Parisians, shop owners, and inattentive waiters. And lots of B.O.

What I experienced was dog poopy littering the sidewalks and streets, very nice Parisians and shop owners (who smelled nice), and inattentive waiters...until you asked for their attention. Waiters will not come to you throughout the meal the way American waiters do. The reason is because they don't want to disturb your dining experience. But, if you want something and hold your hand up to get their attention, they are very accomodating to your needs.

EVERYONE has a little dog. And they poop on the sidewalks, but the owners don't clean up after them. You'll see poop all over the place and foot prints dotting a trail along the walkways. Dogs are seen in restaurants, bakeries, supermarkets, on the train (they're kind enough to not poop in those places).

I witnessed one dog off it's leash, stop to sniff a car tire. He growled at it, lifted his leg and peed on it. I was afraid that maybe he had dementia and would attack me next, but luckily he paid no attention to me as I passed by.

We stayed at a hotel in the middle of the major Parisian attractions. Corey lived in Paris for 4 years and knew all of the little ins and outs of the area.

The first night we arrived, it started drizzling. We pulled out our little pocket umbrellas and walked around a bit. After getting something to eat, we walked around some more.

Suddenly, a torrential downpour with high winds came through and crumpled my umbrella to pieces. I had to drape it over my head in order to maintain some sort of elusive dryness.

My hands were ice cold, I was soaking wet from head to toe, but the city absolutely mesmerized me and I enjoyed every minute of being in Paris that night.

Everyday for 4 days, we walked from 9 a.m. and didn't return to our hotel room until 11 p.m. at night. My feet had blisters and were sooo sore. I was reduced to hobbling.

One night, I came up with an idea. Corey and I were laying in our beds, and she said it was good to put her feet up.

I said, wouldn't it be nice to tour Paris while rolling along on a gurney?

Or even more practical, we could tour the city in wheelchairs.

But then I thought about how blistered and sore our hands would get.

So I suggested that we hitch the wheelchairs to motorbikes and get dragged around from site to site.

I started laughing hysterically at the thought of it...and then I fell asleep

Anyway, the experience was better than I could've hoped for. I saw so many things, yet I barely touched the surface.

You too can see just a smidge of what I saw (I'm bummed that I never took pictures of Notre Dame):
Mona is really so small and lonely.




The train employees were about to start a strike parade through the streets of Paris.





The view from our room.