Paris

Well, this is the thir morning that I've been unable to sleep past 4am. May as well catch up!

Arrived in Paris and was immediately hustled at the train station. And the guards are no joke - full military uniforms with machine guns at the ready, in dramatic contrast to Amsterdam.

Got to the hotel and checked into my tiny room. It's a good location, very close to a lot of things I wanted to see, but also right on the rue Saint Jaques, and the traffic never stops.

Went up to Montparnasse, although the train was so late that it was already closed for the day. But I wanted to judge distances and get a feel for the place. It isn't far, and was easy to find, and stumbled across some amazing architecture. As far as getting a feel for the place, it's hard to describe.

Some French women soften their faces a bit when we make eye contact. I think they assume I'm from here, which is good, since I'm trying to not be conspicuous. But they way they react when I speak English is interesting - exasperation, maybe, and something that seems like embarassment. The men ignore me utterly, or when we interact they switch readily to English. I haven't had any problems communicating at all. But because this is a city, and filled with hustlers, I'm more guarded, and haven't had much interaction with locals outside of service transactions.

Went to an adorable Indian restaurant for dinner that night, the food was delicious, the experience was strange. Actually, come to think of it, all my dining experiences have been strange, and I think I must not be using "yes" correctly. For example:

"Do you want cheese?"
"Yes, please."
"Yes?"
"Yes."
"Good. So you want cheese?"

I've had that same interaction several times. Same with "no." Someone asks a question, I answer, I affirm the answer, and then they repeat the question. 

"Are you finished with your lunch?"
"No."
"Very good." (Reaches out to take my plate of food.)
"No, no" (defend my plate with my hands)

It's strange.

At any rate, I let my blood suger get really low yesterday, so I'm sure my mood fluctuations are coloring my impresssions of Paris.

My favorite time was yesterday morning, when I was up and out as the sun was rising, and the traffic was mercifully quiet, and the city was lovely and just alive with birdsong. I went to Notre Dame and just walked all around it, enjoying the light and wandering up and down the riverbanks.

When it opened, I went in just as it was opening for morning services. And wow. It's beautiful, of course, and I am feeling how inadequate that word is for so much of what I've seen here. And yes, it took longer to build than the United States has existed, and yes, it's stood for 850 years, and eventually I had to just sit and cry for a bit. And I found myself grateful to the Catholics for having places like this and sharing them with the rest of us. I wanted... I wanted, I think, to do something meaningful, but I don't know the rules about lighting candles and I didn't dare touch the holy water (although dammit I wanted to). 

Afterward I bought the obligatory postcards and sat at a cafe writing them and watching the morning. I think that was the most peaceful I've been so far.

Then I went into these ruins they found under the Ille de Cite, dating back to Roman times. And I had an emotional reaction to that as well, and also learned a lot about Paris' development over time.

Then I struck off on the right bank, to wander a bit and then hit the Champs Elysees. And that got frustrating, since I somehow kept being north of where I wanted to be, no matter how many times I turned south. And the crowds oppressive, and did I mention low blood sugar? When finally saw The Arc, I felt trimphant for sure. And wow. Again, "beautiful" isn't the word.

But before I went in, I had lunch and regrouped. Went into the Arc, looked at it, and the headed off to the Eiffel Tower. Which isn't hard to find, because if you're headed the right direction you can see it. And when it finally came fully into view, I felt something hard to describe.

And it was also just then that I became convinced that I won't be coming back to Paris. That it's beauful, but I don't need to see it again, and the world is wide. So what I don't do here, now (see the Mona Lisa, the Louvre, the catacombs, Sacre Coeur), I never will.

I wanted to touch it, so I went beneath it and a line was coalescing in front of me, so I got in it. It was the line to take an elevator up (there was no line for the stairs). Well yes, of course I wanted to go up, I wanted to touch it, and no I didn't want to take the stairs, so I stood in that miserable line for 3 hours with rude Europeans riding my ass the whole time.

It was a mistake.

The longer I stood there, the more miserable and uncomfortable I was, and yet you get trapped in that mindset where you've already invested so much time you may as well see it through. And, again, it seemed that if I didn't do it then, I never would.

But I shouldn't have done it. I bought a ticket to the top, but then there was another long line on the 2nd floor to get to the summit, and I bailed. I was angry by then, and wanted to rest and drink water more than I wanted anything at all to do with the damn tower at that point.

And yes, the view is amazing, but I think also it was the tower itself that I wanted to see, not Paris FROM the tower. I should have just admired it from the ground.

So I went down the stairs and began the long march back to the hotel, with aching blistered feet and a sunburn and an empty stomach and just not feeling what I wanted to feel.

Got back to the hotel and cleaned up a bit and assessed my blisters (bad, but I've had worse) and almost fell asleep, but I made myself go back out for dinner. 

Got back at 10pm, and had high hopes for this being the morning that I was able to sleep in a bit, but, as stated above, woke up completely at 4:30 am. 

Today, Montparnasse cemetary, since I missed it on Friday, and then I'm not sure what else. It will be nice to have some unplanned time, although I do wish it weren't Sunday, so I could hit a post office.

Tonight, Annecy!