Say what? A second entry in twelve hours? The world may be ending.
Before I launch into my Paris spiel, I think it vital to know that I got 11 hours of sleep last night. That's right--E.Le.Ven. Hour. Hell yeah. And damn, did it feel gooooood. Mmm.
Onto the stories!
So Ry and I had to wake up at 4 am to catch our train to Paris. FOUR AM. If you've been following our adventures at all, you'd know that we are not morning people. Hell, we were barely afternoon people on this trip. So it was slightly torturous to have to wake up after only falling asleep at 12:30ish. Did I say torturous? I meant fucking impossible.
We did it though. That was quite the accomplishment for us. We figured that we could sleep on the train on the way to Paris. But could we? Um, no. We had this group of really fuckin' loud Asian tourists a few rows in front of us and they just couldn't keep their excitement to their row--they had to share it with the whole car. Charming. Then I had an intense craving for a Sprite, so that kept me awake.
On the upside, I was awake when going through the chunnel. I felt like a spy going through it. I wanted to make up my own theme music. Awesome. Then I got to see French countryside. Gorgeous. Lush, green, enchanting. It looked so peaceful.
The trip took about 2 and a half hours. When we pulled into the station the first thing that I noticed was there was a LOT of graffiti. A lot. That kind of killed the charmed feeling of the countryside.
Honestly, the whole city had a lot of graffiti. Are the French people pissed off at clean surfaces or something? In the subways, the cars had writing, the posters were either torn or written all over and even some of the statues around the city had graffiti on them. It was quite the let-down.
When we got out of the train station, I felt like I had left any trace of the world I'd known behind. I blame the language factor. I? I know NO French besides voulez-vou-couche-avec-moi, c'est coi? And I didn't think that'd do anything except get me into trouble. Ryan knew the bare minimum, thank GOD. It helped in navigating the subway, which was challenge #1. We got to Notre Dame fairly easily, though.
Notre Dame? Amazing. I had been told that it was gorgeous, but that doesn't even describe it. It was smaller than I expected (fuckin' Disney overexaggerates everything), but that didn't deter from it's beauty. I think I took the most pix of this building alone.
We decided to jump on a tour bus to maximize our time in the city. The first line we took, though, turned out to be the most boring route ever and showed us absolutely nothing that we wanted to see, so I think I dozed off, like, three times. We were so happy to get off that bus.
We then jumped on a different line which took us to the Champs Elysees. Fifth Avenue has nothing on this street. If I was rich, I'd be in heaven: Louis Vitton, Cartier, Gucci, Prada.... I need to be rich.
We ate at a little cafe'. So yum. And I was proud of myself because I actually ordered in french. Go me! And the food? SO good. I had this french dish composed of really thin strips of beef marinated in olive oil and covered in parmesan. Oh my lord. I could eat it every freakin' day. Mmmm.
After gorging, we went to the Arc de Triumph and walked around that for a bit. It was under construction, so the scaffolding took away from the "wonder" that is the Arc. It was still really beautiful though.
After that we went to the Eiffle Tower. I was so not impressed with it. It's a tower of metal. Oooh. I was cheesy because Paris had some stupid advertisement on it to promote themselves as the host city for the 2012 Olympics. Why would you cheesify a national landmark? Stupid french pimps.
Riding there on the tour bus was cool, though because we saw all kinds of cute little sections of the city. Paris is gorgeous. It's a beautiful city--except for the graffiti.
Then! Then we saw the Parisian Opera House! Home of the Phantom! yaaay! I was so geeked. We didn't go inside, but the outside was, um, beautiful. Breathtaking. It made me happy.
The last stop of the day was in Monmarte. I swore I'd see the Moulin Rouge. And. I. Did. And I nearly orgasmed from the sheer joy of it all. Again, we didn't go in (I'd be afraid to), but the photo shoot outside was sufficient for me. I was so tempted to do a can-can, but all the french probably would have thought I was dumb.
The tour buses stopped running at five and our train didn't leave until 7ish. But Ry and I were beyond exhausted by this time. So we went to the train station and hung out there where we fought to stay awake. The station was cold and crowded and dingy. Not impressive. And people kept giving us weird looks because we were speaking english.
It was like that all day. When people realized we weren't french they'd either give us odd looks or turn away in disgust. Yes, because the French are so much better than us. The language is impossible to learn and the city is covered in graffiti. They must be so proud.
Being in Paris left me jaded. While I was enchanted with the sights, it left a bad aftertaste in my mouth because of the cold people. And the city also seemed dingy and a bit dirty. It was disappointing. Ryan and I were only too glad to get back to London. We kept saying throughout the day "I can't wait to go back 'home.'" Home meaning London. Because by this time, I was so in love with the city that I would have sold my return ticket and been a bum on the streets if it meant I got to stay there forever.
On the train ride back, Ryan made a comment about our last day. While I knew that it was coming up, it made me feel melancholy. I was depressed the entire ride home because I just didn't want to leave...
Until next time...
Ciao, dahling!
~*Krissy*~