Chasing Shiny Pennies

Thomas:

We spent 3 days (not counting arrival and departure days) in Paris. Not enough, I know. That’s what we did. We lived on the “street to madness”. That’s my translation. And I’m sticking by it….I like it. Rue de la Folie. The corner bistro was “To Madness” (A La Folie). It was my favorite.

After finding our hotel and dumping our stuff, we went three doors down, to A La Folie, for a bite and a drink. Liz said she was ready for a drink. She ordered a double gin and tonic (more about that shortly). The trip from London had not been without incident…..surprise!!

Here’s what happened.

First a brief throwback. The last time I came to Europe (2016) I’d brought a pocket knife with me. Yeah, yeah…just listen for a minute. It was always in checked baggage when it needed to be and I’d never had a problem with it. I find them useful. They’re great for slicing sausage and cheese and fruit while sitting on a park bench, taking a break from your long morning stroll through an unfamiliar city or town. So, this time, I brought my razor sharp switchblade with me and stowed it in the cargo hold on the flight over.

The problem, however, was that in the intervening years, the UK left the EU and the French no longer trust the English. So…border control. Now to this point (London), as mentioned, my 8″ hunting knife had been in checked baggage when necessary. We were taking a train from London to Paris; there’s no checked baggage on these trains. And since the long history of love and trust between the French and British has been broken…..border control and luggage searches. My knees didn’t set off the metal detector though, so that was a bright spot.

I felt bad for the young lady in front of us at the assizes. She was transporting a contraband charcuterie set with a clearly dangerous, sword length knife included. Despite the size, it took the agent many passes through the large suitcase to finally locate the deadly weapon and, after placing it on a presentation pillow, she bore it to the x-ray operator…..who deemed it OK. Clearly disappointed, the agent returned it to the young lady. After repacking her suitcase, (that appeared to have been investigated by a pack of wild dogs), with unhelpful help from the agent, she left. Then it was my turn…yay!!! I was all aflutter.

Now, seriously, I had forgotten the machete and honing stone I’d brought. What I did remember, though, was the table knife I had accidentally stolen from our first Airbnb stay. Way back in Ballyliffin. No problem, I told Liz…they saw the table knife. They did. They also saw the machete. The honing stone was ok though.

Then, after being informed that I’d have to leave my beloved machete behind, I got to repack my bag. So that’s why Liz was ready for a drink when we got to Paris.

It turns out she was ready for two drinks. She asked for a double gin and tonic. Language got in the way, though, and Liz held up two fingers to signify a double. The waiter nodded and gestured, one for Liz and one for me. Liz shook her head, gesturing in front of her (“…all mine”) The waiter was incredulous. “Deux?”, he exclaimed, displaying 2 fingers. Liz was firm. “Oui!!” I ordered a beer. Liz got 2 gin and tonics. It made me laugh. I told her she had a drinking problem.

The next day was rainy as we set out to find open air markets. We found two. Paris has a lot of them. They’re the best. The tomatoes look a lot better here than at HEB and the fish selection is a lot better, too. Plus, I got to eat some fresh oysters while shopping. We had fun. Then we wandered down to and then along the Seine River. Past Notre Dame. It’s still undergoing restoration, but is supposed to be reopened by the end of the year. The following, and last in Paris, day we planned to go to Sainte-Chapelle to see the stained glass windows. After taking the metro and strolling along the Seine again, we arrived. Liz saw the line, paused, and said, “Let’s rethink this…”. So we tossed the plan and commenced wandering again. We’re very accomplished at it, wandering. We’re thinking about pursuing it competitively. Along the way we passed the Louvre and stopped at the Jardin des Tuileries for a lunch snack and to enjoy the weather.

Then we wandered some more. Near the Eiffel Tower. And the Arc de Triomphe. We crossed Pont Alexander III (apparently a romantic bridge from the movies). Liz was a touch put out that I didn’t know that and that I became curious about some construction work being done below the bridge. Go figure. Then we metro’d back to madness.

The next day we planned on going to the Pablo Picasso museum (I’d been last time I was here and it was one of the museum highlights of the trip) but got distracted by an open air market. What can I say….. Then we needed to print boarding passes for our train trip the next day. Liz said, “I remember seeing an Office Depot the other day, just down that way.”. It was there…just not right down there. On the way back, we passed a park where shirtless young men were doing pull-ups on the monkey bars. At least that’s what we used to call them. I was a block away before I realized she wasn’t with me. I went back and gently pulled her away.

The next day we left for Strasbourg.

Liz:

Paris will always have my heart

Yes, we made it to Paris, itching and all. Nobody, is ever going to call this guy a wimp. We took the bullet train, (at least 200 miles per hour) from London to Paris. Except for looking backwards, it was fabulous. I kept wondering when the US was going to follow the European travel idea. One of my wise sisters told me….”Never”. We are too indebted to US oil industry. Oh well, it’s still a pretty great way to travel from point A to B. I’m glad for the experience.

We arrived in Paris, after dark, and although there are these modern things called taxis, Thomas really loves the Metro. After several hours (at it least felt like hours) he figures out the Metro and we are off. It’s practically painless, until we disembark at our destination station, and begin to walk (of course you guess it) with battling GPS directions. Will we ever learn? Well, you guessed it, Bernard was right. The unnamed female that Thomas follows, wasn’t even close. Well, to be honest, she was close but never correct. May have something to do with the fact, she doesn’t have a name. Somewhere along the million steps, Thomas informs me that I will have to get rid of some of my sh..t. It’s apparently too heavy. So, the remaining 2,000 steps are spent with me trying to figure out what is going to be left behind. Yes, the dozen Rick Steves travel books can be dumped, but definitely not my hair dryer. What to do with my 3 lbs of make up is under consideration, since the only person I know here, that might be judging me, is Thomas. No decision was made that night, as we settled into the L’Hotel des Metallos. Translated we “think” it means Hotel of Metal. That might explain the comfy bed. We scored a room with two twin beds, but have you ever tried to negotiate 130 sq ft? May, I repeat, 130 sq feet. Hey, at this point I must say, ” I love this guy.”

First day out, we hit two outdoor markets. The locals want for nothing. Fresh fish, meat, vegtables, wine, beer, and spices. Thomas was salivating. The only problem is, 130 sq. ft, no refrigeration, no way to heat or store anything. It was a fabulous experience, that again, I think the US might be able to learn something from. I am not even going to pose that question to my wise sister, I know the answer, HEB.

We walked along the Seine, I was shopping for a yacht. Then walked to Notre Dame. It’s almost ready to reopen, but even from the outside, is very impressive. Then it’s back to the Metro. No, not yet, that’s after several misteps (Thomas is determined). We walked the plaza in front of the Hotel de Lille. Music, dancing, and bubbles. These folks know how to celebrate and live.

I’ve had it for the day, back to the hotel and rest. Tommorrow, up before the sunrise, and off to the Sainte-Chapelle. Via the Metro, of course.

Day 2 in Paris, Metro to the church and then we find out we ‘should have purchased tickets, maybe months ago. Plan B, now in action. Off to the Louvie, wow, very massive and impressive, but again, no Tickets, no Entry. Not to worry, we took a selfy so nobody is the wiser. Now off to the Arc the Trump (wait, did I say Trump…I certainly meant something else. On the way we stumbled upon a 30 acre garden. How do you stumble there, you ask? Well, dumb luck. We spent at least 2 hours, feeding birds, feeding ourselves (see we come prepared with water, bread, fruit and cheese) and watching people. Two young men approached us, we thought at first maybe they were panhandling. Oh, so wrong and judgmental of us. Thomas decides they are asking people to sign a petition to get a nude statue removed. My inquisitive mind just has to know. So, like every other rude American, I approach the woman who “appears” to be in control. Turns out its a class of students trying to learn about engaging people. The statue by the way has misplaced his private parts, so he is not a threat to anyone. (See Thomas by the statue). Then we are off to the Arc de Triomphe. On the way, we happen upon a bridge I recognize (I love watching romance movies). I must walk over that bridge with my new husband, and we will kiss, and I will weep. Well, we did, walk and kiss but while I was romantizing, he was watching the construction going on below. (See photo of one happy engineer) So much for romance. You have to wait for the movie version where she is trying to decide if she should jump or push. By the way, lots of sirens screaming by while we’re involved in our romantic encounter. Thomas has decided it was President Macron on his way to Burger King. As a bonus to this “romantic” episode, I can see the Eiffle Tower in the distance. Mission accomplished, we saw everything there is to see in Paris, in one stop. The guide book will now read, just go stand on the Bridge Alexander!

It was my turn to take semi-charge of the Metro trip back to our Metal Hotel. I can now claim success but I don’t have to like it. I got us back to the street towards Madness. Thomas will take it from here.