Pari$

Firstly, sorry this is coming up late. I've just been wrapping up Lent term here and had to take care of some business. And also, blogger is giving me a hard time with uploading photos. So you'll have to find them on FlickR. But yes, Grace and I went to Paris last weekend with the economics team.

Saturday

We weren't sure we could afford this trip so we cut the trip from three days to two days so we could get better priced train tickets and pay for one day less hotel and city expenses. Anyway, most of team economics went down on Friday (evidence continues to mount that money is not a major concern for most the people in my course) and we got up early on Saturday to take the 6:45 train to London. That was great. While in the train station Grace decided she wanted to read Emma by Jane Austen, and we looked through the three or four WHSmith bookshops in the London station to no avail. Too specific a desire. We got on the train with no trouble and sat across from five middle aged American women who spent literally half of the trip talking about Disneyland. They go a lot with their kids, but one of them thinks it's fun and she's been with her friend more than with her kids. Of course you have to get a fast pass. But even with one you still have to wait in line during the crowded season, so don't go then. And book early to go to Chef Mickey. But it's worth it. Avoid breakfast with Mickey. They talked loudly, but they were American.

In Paris we found our way to our hostel via the metro. We were in a pretty grimey part of the city with lots of graffiti and dirt, but it was sunny, there weren't sirens going off and the people out were regular blokes. Our hostel was sort of like three houses with one shower and one bathroom per building. We were on the top floor with a window looking out into a very little courtyard with little trees. It was a real nice touch as the weather was wonderful. We had the window open.

But the shared toilet was a turkish toilet, or drop toilet, or more accurately, poreclain hole in the ground that you squat over. I'm not sure if there's some historical reason why it's called a turkish toilet or if it's just called a turkish toilet because it's a sucky toilet and everyone hates Turkey in the EU. The latter seems more likely. One of classmates is Greek (to learn more about Greece and Turkey's feud look up the hate videos they make about each other on YouTube) and she said there's a Greek expression, that says something like, "When you get really really angry, you get like a Turk." One of our classmates is from Turkey and she's really sweet.

Anyway, we had a porcelain hole in the ground. It did flush (though the water spilled a little bit out onto where your feet are squatting). I thought it worked pretty well to be honest. It actually seemed cleaner than my toilet at ISU. It's nice that you don't touch any part of it, except maybe with your shoes. Grace doesn't share this assessment.

We texted everyone that we were here and ventured out to get what we came for - French food. Chocolate crepes, Bertillion ice cream, yogurt. Can't get enough of it while in Paris. The crepes are thick and delicious. Bertillion ice cream is still the best I've ever had. The vanilla isn't tasteless, it's really vanilla. It's not even white, it's light brown. And they make an extra bitter chocolate that is like the darkest chocolate transformed into ice cream. And the yogurt comes in little clay pots, instead of plastic ones and it's really, really thick. Delicious.

We spent most of the afternoon wandering around the Pompidou museum and the Marais district. The Pompidou is a modern art museum but there are always three or four groups of street performers in its big courtyard. We watched break dancers and spray paint artists. There are tons of street performers around Paris. And they're not depressing, like the ones we get at Cambridge (homeless people badly strumming a guitar while sitting). There's guitar players, of course, and drumming circles, but also jugglers, clowns, acrobats and comedians. I really like the atmoesphere and the next day I mentioned it to some of the economics people. Was there just some kind of culture of perfomance in Paris? They had a different explanation: high unemployment and the 35 hour work week. That's what you get when you talk to economists.

At 7 we left to go meet the economics people for dinner.

One nice thing about going to Paris with team economics is several of them have lived in Paris. One of them actually had a French passport. Anyway, he took us out to a classic French bistro and we squeezed around a long table. There was tons of wine, as might be expected and I thought it (the wine) was great. As a vegetarian I get a lot of cheese in France (it's all they know how to make for vegetarians besides omelets). Grace had duck. Someone else had a bone marrow meal. The guy next to me had a gigantic hunk of steak that seemed appetizing to me (first time that's happened with meat in a few years). We arrived around 8:30 and stayed past midnight (the meal was expensive - I don't want to talk about it). England has a strange puritanical rule that pubs must close at 11, but no such law exists in Paris. We went out for a pint after this at a French bar.

There's not the tradition of the pub in France, like in England, so this was really a bar, like you would see in America. Beer was expensive too. Around 2 in the morning Grace and I split with the group and went home. Apparently they all went to a heavy metal club and danced the night away.

Sunday

The next day Grace and I got up late and had breakfast/lunch at a little cafe around the corner. I realized here that I have surpassed Grace's skill with French! The waitress came over and said something French to which I replied, "Petit Dejeuner." That means breakfast! Grace said chocolate, for her drink, but she had to ask me what Petit Dejeuner means. Ha! I like French breakfasts - croissants, richly buttered baguette, orange juice and hot chocolate! Actually, I eat croissant every morning for breakfast now. It'll be a shame when we return to America and I won't be able to get nice ones at the supermarket anymore. Anyway, the weather was so nice we sat outside.

Today we were hoping to find the Haviland China store to look for a gift for Grace's mom. No such luck. We looked the address up in an internet cafe and went there only to find some other store there. Some other closed store. Now we had nothing to do. We walked through the gardens in front of the Louvre and Grace bought an enormous piece of cotton candy. It was a bit of a boring situation. We didn't really have much money or interest for going to battle the tourists at a musuem. And all the stores were closed. At times like this I wish I was taking a vacation in the country where you know what you're going to do - hike. Anyway, we walked down by the Seine which was nice. All the students were sunbathing, or studying, or picnicing along the sunny shores of the river. Most of the book vendors along the edge of the river were open and selling interesting old things. We went down to get some more ice cream.

Along the way we passed the entrance to St. Chappelle's, which I always wanted to see, but never have. We decided to spend the money on this and went in. It's a pretty interesting place. It's like if someone took all the stained glass windows in a gigantic cathedral and then brought them down to form the walls of a much, much smaller space. It's like a church of colored glass. Unfortunately they were doing work on one of the windows so we didn't get the whole effect - there was a big brown curtain blocking two of the windows at the end, above the alter, so it looked more like a hall of windows rather than a church made of stained glass windows. Apparently it was built to house the crown of thorns and other relics (not there anymore). The company working on the windows stuck a little placard on the end advertising their services, in case you need some stained glass window work.

We still had to get the ice cream and when we did Grace got cheated. She asked for her absolute favorite, strawberry and vanilla but the women gave her strawberry and peanut butter (also brown) and contined to insist it was vanilla. We would have put up more of a fight, but we didn't speak the language. Grace was pissed.

We wandered around the Latin quarter for an hour or more before going over to the Champs Elysees to watch the Enland/France rugby match with the economics team. We went to an English style pub for this - the British have a strong tradition of drinking while watching sports and they've built a wonderful institution up around it. So the majority of the people there were French. As one of my classmates said, it's one of the few things the British can be proud of exporting. We had to pay €8 to get in, and there was standing room only, but there was pint of Newcastle included in the cover, so sweet! I haven't had Newcastle from a tap in a long time.

The match was fine, and England won so everyone was happy. There were no commercials except maybe at half time. Wouldn't be able to get away with that in America. The pub also had a Starship Troopers pinball machine, which I didn't get a chance to play, but still.

With team economics partially reunited (some people didn't want to watch the game and and went to the Pompidou instead) we went for a long walk down to the Eiffel tower. Grace and I had more crepes while we all watched the tower sparkle from across the Seine. It's a nice view from there, you can see the whole thing, unobstructed. After this people had to use the bathrooms and there was nowhere close so we went down to the Eiffel tower, even as I remarked a half hour before that this would be my first time in Paris that I didn't go to the Eiffel tower. You just can't escape it. It draws tourists to it, slowly, but inexorably.

We took the RER train into the latin quarter from there where the full economics team was reunited. We took a long stroll to a further metro station and then out to a district with lots of African food for dinner at a Moroccan restaurant. The restaurant had a dog, which I thought was awesome. Grace really wants a dog (actually four, she has their names all picked out). But the apartment won't let us have any at the moment. At times like that, or when I want to buy a framed print or something, I wish we lived in our own house, so we could do as we pleased. Unfortunately, I don't see that happening for awhile.

Anyway, Grace and I had couscous meals which were fantastic. We stayed at this place just as late as the other and when the bill arrived it was quite reasonable, though by now our budget was blown. After the meal team economics split in two. Everyone but us was leaving on the 7:15 train, so they had to get up later. We were leaving on a later train so we stayed out with the people who didn't care about their future discomfort.

Another pint at another bar, this one wonderfully, stereotypically French. It looked like a cafe trying to be a bar. But it worked. And we stayed out for another hour or so before walking home. Paris is wonderful in the sense that you can walk home a long way in a grimey neighborhood with grafitti and feel totally safe. Everyone you see is just folks. There are even parents wheeling sleeping kids along in strollers (what are these Parisiens doing with their tottlers out on the town at 2 in the morning?!). We had to leave on the 11 o'clock train the next day (more on that below) so we set our alarms for 8 and went to bed.

Monday

Monday is a trajedy which makes me angry, frustrated, but mostly sad. We woke up at 8 and promptly went back to bed. We didn't have to be to the rail station till 10 so we reset our alarms and woke up after nine. While packing up I got our tickets out and my head realized, before my heart, that we had missed our train. I had misread the time of our trains departure. We arrived in London at 11, but departed from Paris at 9, which was already passed.

We dropped all plans of going to a French wine store before leaving and went straight to the station. The whole way was torture because I didn't know what to expect. Our budget was busted and we had paid the absolute economy rate for our tickets which meant they were non-changeable, non-refundable, non-anything. In my head I feared that we would have to purchase same day departure tickets as if we had just walked into the station. A plane ticket like that could cost over a £1000. Maybe we could take a bus for cheaper I thought.

When we arrived at the ticket window we explained the situation and were given new tickets for £75 each, which is about what we paid for our tickets originally. I don't think we could have gotten back to England any cheaper. We had to put them on the credit card, since, like I said, there's not much money. Anyway, it turns out we were right when we said we couldn't afford the trip to Paris. This event cast a cloud over the rest of the day and we gloomily returned to London and then Cambridge. Now we are here, being careful to eat noodles and pack our lunches for a few weeks.

Originally we were going to take a vacation this week, but we don't have the money for one now. But it turns out that's OK, because Grace's work has just extended her another month, so now she can take that. And apparently she has some holiday wracked up so we'll take a long weekend sometime soon to visit people in England.

I'll put the pictures up on FlickR soon.