Here's the thing. A million years ago (okay, maybe more like back in the 1980's), I went to Paris, France with my Mom and my now ex-husband (oh, yes...those of you who had no idea, I was married once in a world that seems light years away from today. No horror story to tell. I just married a very nice man who was not the man for me. That's all. So now you can pick your jaw up from the floor and keep reading. If the Catholic Church has recovered from my walk down the aisle in St. Patrick's Cathedral in NYC so can you :)
Everything that could have gone wrong during that trip in 1987 did go wrong. Here are some of the highlights or lowlights depending on one's perspective. We arrived at the Paris Gare du Nord train station from Brussels on a windy, rainy night. It was late; we were tired and we were told the hotel was within walking distance of the train station but pray tell, which direction? We asked the gendarme, the local police and were told, "That way". Well, "that way" was the wrong way. Granted, none of us spoke French but pointing is pointing regardless of the language in question. We were exhausted, clothes were soaked, and finally we somehow stumbled upon the hotel about an hour later. Lets call this hotel the Hotel Seed-eee....Seedy. Upon checking into our cubicle (I can't call it a room. Think closet and then cut that in half. Two people could not pass one another in the room without one person having to jump up on one of the beds.) , we collapsed onto the thinnest mattresses with the scratchiest blankets ever. You know the kind I mean. Those old scratchy woolen ones that were a staple in cheap motels around the world for years. Don't pretend you have no idea what I am talking about...you know. The ones on the closet shelves in some hotels that you pray you never have to use. Those blankets.
The next few days were a blur of mishaps...the Arc de Triumphe? Under scaffolding at the time so we never saw it. The Louvre? Did you know you can see all the major exhibits in 15 minutes? We did. The Mona Lisa? Yes, she's there. Smaller than I imagined but there. The statue of Venus with her missing arms? They are still missing and she is still as lovely as ever despite the centuries. We skipped the long line of tourists by somehow finding a side entrance that had no line at all. The Folies Bergere? Never saw it. The Moulin Rouge? Thank goodness for the movie. And everything you have ever heard about the brilliance of French cuisine? I couldn't tell you because one night the only place we could find that was open for dinner was a Chinese restaurant and another night we ended up in a French restaurant/tourist trap (Mom will say that was my ex-husbands fault...and she would be right). We meant to get to Montmartre but somehow we never did...who goes to Paris and doesn't see Montmartre? Ssshhhh...we know. We know. Since this article is about our trip in 2009 I'm going to simply fast-forward to present day but make no mistake about it. The travesty of the trip in 1987 is firmly etched in my mind and there's so much more I could say but I'll let bygones be just that.
So for whatever reason, since then, I never went back to Paris. Besides ever since my 6th grade French teacher begged me to stop studying the language because I speak it with a Spanish accent, I have simply had a mental block against all things Francais. I speak four languages but I can't get beyond seven words in French without breaking out into a linguistic sweat.
Iceland was on the travel agenda for September, followed by a visit to the United Kingdom to see friends and sightsee, then a wedding in the English countryside in Kent (not mine...let me be clear about that), and guess what was only a 10 minute drive away? The Eurostar to Paris. My best friend Clyde mentioned Paris (Clyde who epitomizes everything French; he speaks French. He is French. He has lived in Paris. He was born to be French. The list goes on and on). He is perfectly French in all the ways that make me feel so un-French which makes sense being that I am a native New Yorker . Je suis Americain. What better person to travel with to Paris? Perhaps history will not repeat itself. Perhaps it's time to revisit Paris. Perhaps becomes a definite as tickets are booked on the Eurostar from Ashford, U.K. to Paris.
"Ou faut-il lettre ses dechets?", I ask Clyde. He rolls his eyes and tells me he refuses to have his trip sullied by my absurd attempts at the French language...and wants to know why I need to know where to put the garbage (which is what I asked him). Mind you, I have no garbage to dispose of and there is no garbage to be concerned about but hey, I can say this in French so I say it. It doesn't matter if it has no bearing on...anything. I will not be stopped even if I make no sense!
The Eurostar in Leisure Select Class (like the equivalent of an airlines Business class) is an exercise in comfort and quasi-elegance. Checking in at the Ashford Train Terminal was so easy that it made air travel feel like the Bataan Death March. Even with four-five-six pieces of luggage between Mom, Clyde and I it is easy. Everything was so efficient and pleasant and streamlined. The gentlemen and women who work on the Eurostar do just that. They work. Hard. The train ride is about 1 hour and 45 minutes with about 20 minutes in the tunnel beneath the English Channel before one emerges to race through the French countryside. I found myself wishing it was longer because I was so enjoying the moment and the scenery and the service. The diligent workers are offering us libations almost simultaneously with assisting us to our seats. A+ for effort and attentiveness.
Mom is enchanted by the flatwear embossed with the Eurostar logo. I'll say no more except she would like a full set so we may have to ride on the Eurostar a few more times! If adult libations are your preference, you are welcome to as much French wine and champagne as you can enjoy during that train ride. The miniature bottles of jam and jellies are the British contribution to the breakfast meal which is a choice of an omelette or a breakfast plate complete with date nut bread and spreads and fruit. I break out my French Phrase Book because I realize if ever my French vocabulary is going to expand the time is now. Plus I have a captive audience. Our Eurostar attendant...lets call him Francois could not be nicer. When I made my attempts at the French language , for example, "Je voudrais un cafe au lait s'il vous plait" Francois did not cringe and recoil in disgust and horror, like my good friend Clyde does every single time. I explained to Francois that Clyde begs me not to speak in French. "Why", he said. "You are doing just fine. I understand you". Ha! Take that Clyde. I will not be stopped!!! I will be fluent in no time...
...and the time better be right about now as we have just arrived at the Gare du Nord station in Paris!! The Eurostar adventure has ended and I am almost sorry to see the train slow down and the doors opening to allow us to exit. I've enjoyed this trip but I admit it. I am excited as I lug bags of luggage off the train and onto the platform.
It's 2p.m. and just about 22 years, 6 months and 10 days since last I stood in this Paris train station. Surely history will not repeat itself and this time will be magical, memorable and magnificent, won't it?
Everything that could have gone wrong during that trip in 1987 did go wrong. Here are some of the highlights or lowlights depending on one's perspective. We arrived at the Paris Gare du Nord train station from Brussels on a windy, rainy night. It was late; we were tired and we were told the hotel was within walking distance of the train station but pray tell, which direction? We asked the gendarme, the local police and were told, "That way". Well, "that way" was the wrong way. Granted, none of us spoke French but pointing is pointing regardless of the language in question. We were exhausted, clothes were soaked, and finally we somehow stumbled upon the hotel about an hour later. Lets call this hotel the Hotel Seed-eee....Seedy. Upon checking into our cubicle (I can't call it a room. Think closet and then cut that in half. Two people could not pass one another in the room without one person having to jump up on one of the beds.) , we collapsed onto the thinnest mattresses with the scratchiest blankets ever. You know the kind I mean. Those old scratchy woolen ones that were a staple in cheap motels around the world for years. Don't pretend you have no idea what I am talking about...you know. The ones on the closet shelves in some hotels that you pray you never have to use. Those blankets.
The next few days were a blur of mishaps...the Arc de Triumphe? Under scaffolding at the time so we never saw it. The Louvre? Did you know you can see all the major exhibits in 15 minutes? We did. The Mona Lisa? Yes, she's there. Smaller than I imagined but there. The statue of Venus with her missing arms? They are still missing and she is still as lovely as ever despite the centuries. We skipped the long line of tourists by somehow finding a side entrance that had no line at all. The Folies Bergere? Never saw it. The Moulin Rouge? Thank goodness for the movie. And everything you have ever heard about the brilliance of French cuisine? I couldn't tell you because one night the only place we could find that was open for dinner was a Chinese restaurant and another night we ended up in a French restaurant/tourist trap (Mom will say that was my ex-husbands fault...and she would be right). We meant to get to Montmartre but somehow we never did...who goes to Paris and doesn't see Montmartre? Ssshhhh...we know. We know. Since this article is about our trip in 2009 I'm going to simply fast-forward to present day but make no mistake about it. The travesty of the trip in 1987 is firmly etched in my mind and there's so much more I could say but I'll let bygones be just that.
So for whatever reason, since then, I never went back to Paris. Besides ever since my 6th grade French teacher begged me to stop studying the language because I speak it with a Spanish accent, I have simply had a mental block against all things Francais. I speak four languages but I can't get beyond seven words in French without breaking out into a linguistic sweat.
Iceland was on the travel agenda for September, followed by a visit to the United Kingdom to see friends and sightsee, then a wedding in the English countryside in Kent (not mine...let me be clear about that), and guess what was only a 10 minute drive away? The Eurostar to Paris. My best friend Clyde mentioned Paris (Clyde who epitomizes everything French; he speaks French. He is French. He has lived in Paris. He was born to be French. The list goes on and on). He is perfectly French in all the ways that make me feel so un-French which makes sense being that I am a native New Yorker . Je suis Americain. What better person to travel with to Paris? Perhaps history will not repeat itself. Perhaps it's time to revisit Paris. Perhaps becomes a definite as tickets are booked on the Eurostar from Ashford, U.K. to Paris.
"Ou faut-il lettre ses dechets?", I ask Clyde. He rolls his eyes and tells me he refuses to have his trip sullied by my absurd attempts at the French language...and wants to know why I need to know where to put the garbage (which is what I asked him). Mind you, I have no garbage to dispose of and there is no garbage to be concerned about but hey, I can say this in French so I say it. It doesn't matter if it has no bearing on...anything. I will not be stopped even if I make no sense!
The Eurostar in Leisure Select Class (like the equivalent of an airlines Business class) is an exercise in comfort and quasi-elegance. Checking in at the Ashford Train Terminal was so easy that it made air travel feel like the Bataan Death March. Even with four-five-six pieces of luggage between Mom, Clyde and I it is easy. Everything was so efficient and pleasant and streamlined. The gentlemen and women who work on the Eurostar do just that. They work. Hard. The train ride is about 1 hour and 45 minutes with about 20 minutes in the tunnel beneath the English Channel before one emerges to race through the French countryside. I found myself wishing it was longer because I was so enjoying the moment and the scenery and the service. The diligent workers are offering us libations almost simultaneously with assisting us to our seats. A+ for effort and attentiveness.
Mom is enchanted by the flatwear embossed with the Eurostar logo. I'll say no more except she would like a full set so we may have to ride on the Eurostar a few more times! If adult libations are your preference, you are welcome to as much French wine and champagne as you can enjoy during that train ride. The miniature bottles of jam and jellies are the British contribution to the breakfast meal which is a choice of an omelette or a breakfast plate complete with date nut bread and spreads and fruit. I break out my French Phrase Book because I realize if ever my French vocabulary is going to expand the time is now. Plus I have a captive audience. Our Eurostar attendant...lets call him Francois could not be nicer. When I made my attempts at the French language , for example, "Je voudrais un cafe au lait s'il vous plait" Francois did not cringe and recoil in disgust and horror, like my good friend Clyde does every single time. I explained to Francois that Clyde begs me not to speak in French. "Why", he said. "You are doing just fine. I understand you". Ha! Take that Clyde. I will not be stopped!!! I will be fluent in no time...
...and the time better be right about now as we have just arrived at the Gare du Nord station in Paris!! The Eurostar adventure has ended and I am almost sorry to see the train slow down and the doors opening to allow us to exit. I've enjoyed this trip but I admit it. I am excited as I lug bags of luggage off the train and onto the platform.
It's 2p.m. and just about 22 years, 6 months and 10 days since last I stood in this Paris train station. Surely history will not repeat itself and this time will be magical, memorable and magnificent, won't it?
Congrats on a GREAT blog. It was bound to happen!
ReplyDeleteKeep those creative juices flowing!
Delora
Were we on the same trip? From Estelle Sr. - Kim posted it for her.
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, we were there in 1988.
We took a taxi from the train station to Hotel Notre Dame on the left bank. The driver could not find the hotel. So, he let us out and said it was difficult to get to by car. Said to walk two blocks and we would be there.That we did in the dark night and the rain down the dark empty streets. But to no avail.
Finally we spot two cops (gendarmes?). Ask for directions. They helpfully proceed to send us off in the opposite direction from the hotel.
Finally we found the hotel (how I do not know). Exhausted and starving (and it was still raining) we had dinner right next door to the hotel in a Chinese Restaurant. Chinese people speaking French freaked me out.
Maybe your bed had a thin mattress. But mine had none. I slept on a rickety army cot at the foot of your bed. With an army blanket that was made of steel wool. The bathroom was huge though. It was almost bigger than our room.
Next night, we went to see the Follies Bergere (the Moulin Rouge was sold out.....it was nearer our hotel) which was far from our hotel. Got out so late that all the restaurants in that neighborhood were closed. Saw one pizza place that was closed but still had patrons inside. We banged on the door to beg and plead because we were starving. So busy touring all day that we had no lunch...only candy bars from a newsstand. The owner ultimately took pity on us and agreed to serve us each a slice of pizza.
We did spend a whole day at Versailles. What extravagance!
And, your dang blamed &*%#@ ex-hubby (idiot) did pick the most touristy place he could find (against my protestations) for a disgusting dinner before we left town. Sometimes you should listen to your Mom: at least then you'd get a good meal.
Oh, we did have some nice French pastries from a neighborhood place we found when meandering. Thank goodness for point and select communication. If we had used French words we'd still be starving.
For those of you who haven't met my Mom...well, now you have :)....ETC
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