The love/hate struggle

Day 29

So, I woke up with mixed feelings about Paris so far. I had had a horrible experience with the airports and travelling around, but decided to give the city a second chance.

I made a post on Facebook asking people if they had any suggestions of things to do.

I headed downstairs to grab some breakfast with Derek before he headed back to Canada, and found him a little the worse for wear in the morning. He didn’t mind, as it was still early (and not too hot) and he just had to make it out to the airport where he could pass out once he got on the plane.

After eating some breaky and seeing Derek off, I grabbed a shower and checked my Facebook. Lapzang’s cousin, Lukeyyy B, asked me if I could head to Jim Morrison’s grave and take a few photos for him. I discovered that it wasn’t too far from the hostel I was staying in, and decided to start  my day there before  walking on to see some of the sights of Paris.

It was about a 15 minute walk to the cemetery where old Jimbo was buried, and it turns out his grave is the fourth most visited attraction in Paris (after the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and Notre Dam). Buried in this cemetery there are a lot of other prominent historical figures, but Jim’s grave is the only one with a barricade around it.

I checked my map after visiting the grave and sussed out where I had to walk to get to some of the main sights in Paris. It took me about an hour to walk to Notre Dam from the cemetery, but it was a beautiful morning and I was happy to walk.

On my way, I got stopped by a man who asked for directions in French. I obviously looked enough like a local (surly?) that he thought I could help him. When I told him that I didn’t speak French, he switched to English and told me that I quite obviously wasn’t a local as I had actually stopped to help. We consulted my map, and he established where he needed to head to.

On the way to Notre Dam I stopped for a bite to eat, before making my way across the Seine river to the cathedral.

There was a massive queue to get in, so I just took some exterior photos, and managed to get a good photo of the statue of Charlemagne outside with the sun behind his head.

I wandered past the Louvre next, again taking exterior photos because I was starting to get a bit tight on cash. I wandered on to the Champs d’Elysees and all the way along it to the Arc de Triumphe. 

It was mid-afternoon by this stage, and I decided to just catch the train back to the hostel.

I had a couple of ciders at the hostel, before wandering up to the supermarket to pick up a few things for a picnic that evening. Two of my friends, Tommy K and Kate D were arriving in Paris and we had spoken of having a picnic at the base of the Eiffel tower that night.

They were due to land at 6.30, and we had spoken of meeting up at 8.30 to head into the city. I suspected that this wouldn’t be enough time for them to get out of the airport, get to their hotel and have a shower and such, but still arrived at their hotel on time.

At about 8.50 I heard somebody call out my name, and I saw a taxi pull up outside their hotel with Kate half hanging out the window. Tom and Kate apologized for being later than we had organized, but I told them I had expected it after my ordeal at Charles de-Gaul.

They were pooped, so we decided to just chill on the balcony of their room with the picnic bibs and bobs I had procured. Kate’s family were staying at the hotel too, so I met her father, her sister and her sister’s partner.

We had a great night catching up and talking about my trip and their trip. Kate's dad lives in Turkey, so he and I had a great chat about his local area.

As it got late in the evening everybody except for Tom and myself headed off to bed, so we decided to go for a bit of a wander. TK and KD were staying in the north-east of Paris, right on a lovely canal that a lot of people were congregating around at that point of the night.

We headed into one of the drinking venues along the canal, sat down and ordered a couple of beers. We chatted for about 20 minutes and then decided to walk off as it was taking far too long for the drinks to arrive.

We kept on wandering around the canal until we got back to a bar next to Tom’s hotel. We stopped in for a couple of drinks, and were both amazed and disturbed by the urinals, which were in the shape of a set of large red pursed lips. They do call this the city of love, after all.

Tom and I parted ways shortly after midnight, so I wandered back to my hostel (about a 30 minute walk) and climbed into bed.