France Day 6,7, and 8 (Paris)
It is 10:30 pm and the sun is still up. That's one thing I still haven't gotten used to. Night is so far away here...
Today was our third day in Paris (if you don't count the day we arrived, which was a wash; we stayed in the hostel and slept). We had plans to leave for Chinon today and stay there for a few days before moving on to Nugent, however they fell through. We are staying in a stranger's house whom we have never met. He is a friend of Karim's and that's all we need to know. Since we were going to be in Paris longer than expected, Sam and I decided to go out and see all that touristy stuff we promised ourselves we wouldn't. Joe, the man from Manchester, was able to catch a ride to Chinon; Samuel, the guy from Sydney, left to meet with some friends of his. Sam and I started out the day by finding Jim Morrison's grave. After an hour and a half detour courtesy of Sam, we found it. It was nothing special, just a grave, but with fresh flowers thrown all over it. We then set out for Oscar Wilde's grave. We talked about how wonderful it would be if we could get access to film there at night. Oscar's grave is about as flamboyant as I would expect. It wouldn't stand out, if it weren't for the giant Egyptian goddess statue and the kiss marks all over his grave.
We stopped at an Italian restaurant, and I had pesto and an Orangina. I have drunk more Orangina on this trip than I have cumulatively in my entire life. I love the stuff. We then make the obligatory stop at the Eiffel Tower. Sam and I discuss the difficulty to properly committing suicide by leaping off the top of the tower. We figured that it would require the assistance of a hang glider or at least a kite to properly clear the lower parts. You wouldn't want to hit something on the way down, or else you might lose a limb or get bisected, and that would hurt for the several seconds before hitting the ground. As we start arriving toward the underbelly of the tower, we contemplate that being beheaded on the way down would be an interesting experience. Under the tower there are military police, all armed with heavy duty machine guns. We see the arches that Napoleon built, and decide they would be easy to commit suicide off of. I wanted to visit the Louvre, but it was closed because it was Monday, and everything is closed on Mondays in France.
We go to the movie theatre and watch Zodiac, which only recently was released in Europe.
The day before was spent moving from the Hostel and Karim's place for the afternoon before moving in to the house we are now in. We all took the metro to the cinema in to watch Death Proof, which Sam and I had already seen, but Samuel and Joe had not.
Our first proper day in Paris, I wake up in the hostel. Above me I see the particle board of the bunk bed above me. Written on it is "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jumped over the candle stick and burnt his dick." That pretty much says everything that needs to be said about the Hostel. We leave at 11am because hostel rules require us to leave the room between 11am and 3pm. We spend much of the afternoon wandering around the shopping districts of Paris. We stop at a comic book shop, an electronics shop, Notre Dame, Moulin Rouge, and some cheap restaurants. That night we go to a closed restaurant where Karim and the other local Kino people are throwing a party/screening. Many films are shown. Many I wish to have a copy of. Especially the crazy techno granny one. They show some WisKino films as well; however, an especially boring one from the compilation comes on and gets the WisKino footage boo'ed off.
Around 1am I realize that the Metro probably closes soon, and the four of us run off to get on. We are a slight bit tipsy, and start hitting on the French girls on the other side of the platform while waiting for the next train to arrive. Samuel's Ausse accent has the most effectiveness. The girls say they are going back to the mission. I ask facetiously, "You're nuns?" We laugh, and their train arrives. Sam and Samuel start hitting unabashedly on the girls in our next train, while Joe apologizes for them politely in his best Manchester accent before starting in with the most vile and profane things that I will not repeat. We get back to the hostel and know that soon we will have to wake up and pack to lug everything over to Karim's to figure out what we will do next.
Today was our third day in Paris (if you don't count the day we arrived, which was a wash; we stayed in the hostel and slept). We had plans to leave for Chinon today and stay there for a few days before moving on to Nugent, however they fell through. We are staying in a stranger's house whom we have never met. He is a friend of Karim's and that's all we need to know. Since we were going to be in Paris longer than expected, Sam and I decided to go out and see all that touristy stuff we promised ourselves we wouldn't. Joe, the man from Manchester, was able to catch a ride to Chinon; Samuel, the guy from Sydney, left to meet with some friends of his. Sam and I started out the day by finding Jim Morrison's grave. After an hour and a half detour courtesy of Sam, we found it. It was nothing special, just a grave, but with fresh flowers thrown all over it. We then set out for Oscar Wilde's grave. We talked about how wonderful it would be if we could get access to film there at night. Oscar's grave is about as flamboyant as I would expect. It wouldn't stand out, if it weren't for the giant Egyptian goddess statue and the kiss marks all over his grave.
We stopped at an Italian restaurant, and I had pesto and an Orangina. I have drunk more Orangina on this trip than I have cumulatively in my entire life. I love the stuff. We then make the obligatory stop at the Eiffel Tower. Sam and I discuss the difficulty to properly committing suicide by leaping off the top of the tower. We figured that it would require the assistance of a hang glider or at least a kite to properly clear the lower parts. You wouldn't want to hit something on the way down, or else you might lose a limb or get bisected, and that would hurt for the several seconds before hitting the ground. As we start arriving toward the underbelly of the tower, we contemplate that being beheaded on the way down would be an interesting experience. Under the tower there are military police, all armed with heavy duty machine guns. We see the arches that Napoleon built, and decide they would be easy to commit suicide off of. I wanted to visit the Louvre, but it was closed because it was Monday, and everything is closed on Mondays in France.
We go to the movie theatre and watch Zodiac, which only recently was released in Europe.
The day before was spent moving from the Hostel and Karim's place for the afternoon before moving in to the house we are now in. We all took the metro to the cinema in to watch Death Proof, which Sam and I had already seen, but Samuel and Joe had not.
Our first proper day in Paris, I wake up in the hostel. Above me I see the particle board of the bunk bed above me. Written on it is "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jumped over the candle stick and burnt his dick." That pretty much says everything that needs to be said about the Hostel. We leave at 11am because hostel rules require us to leave the room between 11am and 3pm. We spend much of the afternoon wandering around the shopping districts of Paris. We stop at a comic book shop, an electronics shop, Notre Dame, Moulin Rouge, and some cheap restaurants. That night we go to a closed restaurant where Karim and the other local Kino people are throwing a party/screening. Many films are shown. Many I wish to have a copy of. Especially the crazy techno granny one. They show some WisKino films as well; however, an especially boring one from the compilation comes on and gets the WisKino footage boo'ed off.
Around 1am I realize that the Metro probably closes soon, and the four of us run off to get on. We are a slight bit tipsy, and start hitting on the French girls on the other side of the platform while waiting for the next train to arrive. Samuel's Ausse accent has the most effectiveness. The girls say they are going back to the mission. I ask facetiously, "You're nuns?" We laugh, and their train arrives. Sam and Samuel start hitting unabashedly on the girls in our next train, while Joe apologizes for them politely in his best Manchester accent before starting in with the most vile and profane things that I will not repeat. We get back to the hostel and know that soon we will have to wake up and pack to lug everything over to Karim's to figure out what we will do next.
Post a Comment
