Mountains of Fountains

About 10 years ago we had a neighbor, a Catholic, who was very excited about her recent trip to the Vatican and visit to St. Peter's Basilica.  I thought, "how nice for her", but I wasn't much interested because I'm not Catholic and I thought it was just a Catholic thing.  Then about 8 years ago we took a Mediterrean cruise and had a half day to do a whirlwind tour of Rome.  When I set foot in St. Peter's that first time, I was awestruck and moved to tears.  We only had about 30 minutes to do a quick run-through so I was very happy to be able to go back and take my time exploring the church.  It truly is magnificant.  The structure, art, sense of holiness, reverance and beauty is undeniable no matter what your faith. The dome designed by Michelangelo soars above the apse (learned a new word!) with the interior gleaming with light and gold.  Everywhere you look there is something wonderful to see.  The statues, frescoes, paintings, alters and even the doors are all great works of art.  The most wonderful is still Michelangelo's Pieta which he sculpted when he was only 24.  It sits behind bulletproof glass because of previous vandalism.  My tears came seeing the expression of a mother holding her dead son and thinking about what that death means for me today. 

We recuperated with a nice lunch and a big dish of gelato, then went home for a rest before our fountains tour.  We wanted to see the fountains at night so we left the apt. about an hour before sunset.  Piazza Navona has three huge marble fountains.  Each one is interesting.  After seeing those, we fumbled our way to Trevi Fountain (as in "Three Coins in a Fountain").  It is grand and powerful.  It was hard to enjoy because of the number of tourists milling and sitting around.  The first time we came to Rome on that quick visit there were very few people in the places we saw.  This time is was tourist overkill and for me it was hard at times to enjoy and appreciate what I was seeing.  I get anxious in crowds, plus I would start people watching instead of looking at whatever I came to see.  But apart from that, all has been great. 



Trevi Fountain



We had a long walk home because we ended up way off from where we intended to be, but it was nice to be out walking at night.  We have felt safe everywhere we've been and there are always other people around.  We passed a Burger King on the way and I got a hankering for fries.

One of Ernie's favorite things has been the hundreds of small fountains around the city where you can get a drink or fill your water bottle, which we did many times.  They're not much bigger than a fire plug and they always flow with fresh water.   He used this larger fountain today to refill our water bottle.

This morning, our last day, started out with Ernie picking up the laundry we had dropped off the previous day.  We tried to find a self-serve laundromat but there are none to be found.  We finally found a place that does your landry for you.  It was a tiny place with finished laundry bagged and sitting outside the store for people to pick up.  It was hard to communicate, but we got it across that we wanted the clothes washed and dried.  We had one bag full.  I liked the idea of somebody else doing my wash for a change and thought it was well worth the $20, until Ernie returned with the clothes.  They were washed and dried all right, then stuffed back in the bag.  Not folded, not pressed or even completely dry.  Just in the same condition as when we dropped them off -- but clean.  I guess wash and dry doesn't mean anymore than that.

We took a trial bus trip to the train station to figure out the best way to get to the port tomorrow.  I'm glad we did because the station is pretty confusing.  I think we've got it.  Famous last words.

From there we went to a church I'd heard about that is a good place to get the feeling of the "layers" of Rome.  It was well worth the 5 euro admission to see the churches under the church.  The visible church was built unknowingly on top of the ruins of an older church, which was built on the ruins of an even older church.  All the way back to the 4th century.  The middle church was discovered during some repairs to the top church.  The excavating continued and they discovered the lowest church which was originally a pagan place of worship.  You can walk down and explore the different levels.  There are still some frescoes visible and a few artifacts.  I guess that is basically what all of Rome is like.  When something was not usable anymore they filled it in with rubble and built on top of it.  The Roman metro system is not very good because they are unable to dig tunnels for the trains.  When they try they always run into some archeological discovery. 

 

Hanging out with a few friends at the Spanish Steps



On to the last stop at the Spanish Steps.  Too crowded once again, but I did get another gelato so all was not lost.  We picked up a couple of souveniers and headed home to begin packing (me - I ironed - thanks to the pitiful laundry job).

Tomorrow we hit the deck.  Literally.  We are ready to be taken care of, not figure out where to eat, and to just do nothing for a day.  Of course, we'll jump into touring again in Naples, Greece, Turkey and Egypt, but there will be about four at-sea days to catch our breath.  We won't have internet and unless we haul the computer to a wifi cafe some day, you'll just have to wait until we get back to hear about our new adventures.

Maryl

Don't Be A Doric



Columns, columns, columns.  The Romans loved them.  Made of marble, travertine, or their own invention of concrete.  The temples to gods, Caesers, and even vestal virgins are still easy to find because of their remaining columns.  Columns from one building we saw were made of marble in Egypt then ferried all the way to Rome.  It's hard to describe the constancy of  images of the Roman Empire.  They pop up everywhere you turn whether you are looking for them or not.  I suppose modern Romans get used to the visual reminders of their history as they live their lives among the ruins (sounds like a novel).  We've visited the Roman Forum, the Pantheon, the Coloseum, and many lesser known sites.  Except for the crowds, we don't tire of seeing the rubble!  There are chunks of statues and buildings gathered in bunches like puzzle pieces.  It's hard to picture what the excavation was like.  Some of these tall columns were just peeking out of the ground and now they stand 50 feet tall.  We've learned more from our Rick Steves podcasts than we ever  

Syncing our i-pods at the Coloseum

learned in high school.  Well, I just think that we are finally interested in learning about history, I'm sure our frustrated teachers covered the subject.  Apparently we aren't the only ones interested in history.  The city is full of tourists from every country, but we especially hear English being spoken.  The Coloseum was packed, but then it was designed to hold 80,000 spectators.  We studied up on the Coloseum before our visit by watching "Gladiator" last night.  All that awful bloody stuff really happened.  So glad we didn't adopt that practice from the Romans.  Before I forget the Vestal Virgins -- they were chosen at the age of 10 to serve for 30 years keeping the torches lit in the Temple of Vesta.  They were esteemed, had their own mini-palace, and box seats at the Coloseum.  If they remained pure after serving their time they were free to leave and marry.  The catch?  If it was discovered they were no longer a virgin they were given a loaf of bread and jug of wine and burried them alive.  I couldn't help but view  all these temples and statues to gods that ended up crumbled and ruined through the aspect of Christianity.  Only one God is eternal.

We headed over the bridge to the other side of the Tiber to Trastevere.  The day turned out to be cool with some rain -- the one day I decided to wear shorts and a light-weight top.  I was not happy.  However, we walked right into a flea market like an outdoor Trader's World.  I found a short trenchcoat kind of thing and wore it the rest of the day.  Unfortunately, I looked like a flasher because when I was all buttoned up you couldn't tell if I had clothes on.  We had a great dinner in a piazza, lingering for at least an hour.   



Vatican Museum and Sistine Chapel

 The day before we used our on-line tickets to visit the Vatican Museums and the Sistine Chapel.  Because we had the helpful hint to get the tickets on-line, we were able to skip a line of maybe one thousand people.  Yeah!  We didn't expect the Vatican Museums to be so extensive.  There were artifacts for all over the world dating back as far as 2100 BC (probably looted after Roman victories), statues, art and even a couple of mummies.  It was all so accessible to visitors.  There was an entire room with frescoes by Raphael, We saw Botticelli's angels.  The Sistine Chapel was as beautiful as you would expect it to be.   We saw Michelangelo's incredible ceiling and huge, scary painting of "The Judgement." and "The Last Super" by Roselli (I always thought it was by Michelangelo)..  The only drawback was the crowds.  We were too tired to visit St. Peter's Basilica so we decided to save that for another day.

Busy and crowded and noisy is one aspect of Rome.  Little cars and motorcycles or scooters zoom by on every street, even the streets that don't seem to have enought room for them.  "Hey, I'm walking here!"  There are store after store, many catering to tourists.  Roach coach type food stands surround every big site and they all serve the same crummy food.  I did find a colorful fruit wagon for the few who wanted something healthy.  It wasn't busy. 

I've chuckled at the Monks (?) passing by wearing jeans under their Monk clothes and using blackberries.  I've watched in awe the women who walk the uneven cobblestone streets in heels.  I've scoffed at the hunched over old lady gypsy beggars, completely covered in ragged clothes so that you can't see their faces.  I'm sure there are young men under the costume.  I've appreciated the kindness of the Italian people.  I've used a bidet.

There, I said it.  I just had to give the one in our apartment a try.  It sits next to the toilet looking very foreign.  I looked up the instructions on Wikihow and followed them to the letter.  I ended up with water on my clothes.  I think it's time they abandon this system for flushable wet wipes.

And I never thought I'd be longing for the shower we will have in our tiny cabin on the cruise ship.  This shower is tiny with no shelf on which to place your soap or shampoo.  When you bend down to pick up one of those items your butt bumps the glass door open and water fills the room.  Since there is no way I can shave my legs in there -- I invented another use for the bidet.  Don't get grossed out.  I put my foot on the (just cleaned) rim and use the faucet to lather up and shave.  Worked rather well.  I think I'll add that to Wikihow.

Maryl

  

What isn't wrong with this picture?

 

What's wrong with this picture?



Au Revoir & Signore Toad's Wild Ride





Yesterday we said goodbye to our 17th century apartment building.  Goodbye Hobbit stairs (as Ernie named them our first day), goodbye noisy street, goodbye late night revelers, goodbye boulangeries and baguettes, and goodbye scarves.

And we survived our night visit to the Eiffel tower.  We arrived before sunset and sat on the lawn and waited for dark sipping a little wine.  Much to his disappointment, Ernie left the battery for the camera charging in the apt. so couldn't take pictures.  Although I would love to have a picture to post, it was especially nice to have him completely there to just watch it with me and focus on the moment.  It was a beautiful sight and I actually think you get a better view of the design elements when it's lit.

Relieved with an uneventful train ride to the airport the following morning (we have learned how to go through the turnstyles without losing a suitcase), we enountered the infamous French incompetence.  McDonald's kitchen runs smoother than the airport security at Orly.  There was one line open, one person looking at the monitor, 10 standing around -- if they had to search a bag the whole line waited while they examined every inch of the bag.  People took off every ounce of metal and costume jewelry that looked like metal and stood on the other side of the metal dectector putting it all back on holding up the entire line.  There was a line at the gate for boarding when we got there so we got in at the end of the line as all good Americans should.  Airplane seats were not pre-assigned so people needed to vye for the seat they wanted.  As soon as it was time to board, people went over to the gate and started their own line so they were at the front.  Also typically French.  That created line mayhen, so we just did an about-face and were on board about 100 people quicker than we would have been. 

We listened to a Rick Steve's pod-cast on the plane and he said the taxi to the center of Rome should only cost 40 euros and to expect the drivers to try to charge more.  We loaded up with a taxi and then asked the driver how much.  He said 55 euros.  For once I was grateful for Ernie's Italian genes because he got into it throwing out numbers back and forth with the driver in Italian and using the innate hand motions.  We settled on 45 euros.  The driver was none too happy.  Or maybe he really liked us because he gave us a thrilling theme-park type ride that required me to close my eyes a few times.  We dodged cars, passed busses on one lane roads, took curves at high speeds, stopped within inches of the car ahead of us -- all for no extra charge.  It was much longer than King's Island rides -- it lasted about 30 minutes. 

For some reason I was a little queasy when he dropped us and our luggage off in front of the apt.  Except Ernie didn't think it was the front of the apt where an agent was supposed to meet us to let us in, so he explored the neighborhood.  I suggested he look again at the paperwork and that was when our period of panic set in.  Ernie discovered he had left all of our important paperwork on the taxi.  I didn't realize that he had brought photocopies of all of our credit cards in case ours were stolen and all of our computer passwords to on-line accounts.  Everything.  Access to our bank accounts, line of credit, retirement investments.  Everything.  Plus our contact for the apartment -- but fortunately we figured out where it was and the agent let us in.  Ernie got the internet up and running (yeah, we have wifi) and starting using Skype to call banks, credit card companies, etc.  We couldn't cancel all of the cards because we needed some here.  We changed passwords.  We resigned ourselves to checking on-line regularly to see if the cards we kept were being used.  For a couple of hours I was able to call Ernie an idiot without him yelling back.  He was beating himself up more than I would have so I most just stood out of the way.  Then, the door buzzer sounded.  It was another angel -- this time in the form of the taxi driver.  He came back with our papers!!!!  It had been several hours by now and we never expected him to return and there was no central office to contact about lost and found.  He said he thought it looked like important papers.  This time Ernie had different words for him and I thought he just might kiss him.  Needless to say, he gave him a lot of euros for a tip.  Total relief.  After listening to the podcast warning us of all the thieves and users, it was a good welcome to Rome to find such an honest person who went out of their way to help.  Whew.


Resting on the enormous couch in Rome


This apt is in a historically preserved building and is nicer than the last.  Larger and lighter and newer.  It's on a small street but still very noisy but it has a/c so we can keep the windows closed.  Guess what I ate last night -- yes -- pizza.  The fix price menu was bruchetta and pizza.  I thought that was an odd combo (bread and more bread).  I think I am getting over-doughed after all those baguettes.  And it definitely is starting to show.

We stopped for pastries and capuchino this morning (I'm not tired of pastries) on our way to find a grocery store to get the basics.  There is a wonderful open air market in the square where we bought some cheese, pasta, salami, olives, oil and balsamic.  We will be back there tomorrow for more.

Our namesake street is just around the corner.  I don't think having the same name will even get us a cup of espresso, but it was fun to find it. 

Dinner at home tonight of pasta.  What else.  Ernie is cooking up some sausage as we speak and I picked up some pesto for my pasta.  All smells good.  Ernie discovered arugala in his salad last night and is now a fan so we are making a salad including arugula.  Yeah!  He is usually an ice berg kind of guy.

Tomorrow we visit the Vatican.  We bought tickets on-line before we left and that is supposed to keep us from standing in long lines tomorrow.  We'll see.

Maryl 

faux pas and fondue

The last couple of days have been low key -- wandering and wondering what we have missed that may have been important.  You can only appreciate so many churches.  It got to the point where we walked into a church, started to admire it, then suddenly realized we'd been there already.  I think it's time to move on to Rome and the church of all churches -- St. Peter's.



Most every spot taken in the parks



Sunday was another beautiful day with all of Paris out enjoying it.  It was hard to walk down the streets.  I felt like a bumper car.  We've noticed that people don't make room for each other.  It's like playing a game of chicken walking through the crowds.  An American who has lived here for years mentioned it so I know it's not just my perception.  He blames it on the lack of personal power people feel resulting from the extent of government control.  The loss of indivduality leading to asserting yourself in small ways -- deep.  Whatever it is, for the most part one feels invisible walking down the streets.  Nothing personal, everybody is in the same boat.  Not entirely though, there are still polite "pardons" here and there.  We started out trying to be so polite so as not to reinforce the stereotype of the rude American -- but unless it is a shop or restaurant owner, we don't see that in return and are slowly losing our enthusiasm to be overly polite.  In reality, I imagine the situation would be the same in New York City.  People were out in droves making the most of the unusally warm day.  

As we stopped here and there to walk into courtyards, we ended up in one where there was some kind of educational thing going on.  I'm not sure what it was, but when the woman tried to give me some materials that related to something going on in France my mind said "Je suis Americainne" but my mouth said "Vous etes Americainne".  After I walked away I realized what I said to her was "You are American" instead of "I am American."  So embarrassed, but I don't think there was any problem with her getting the point!
We had a nice Chinese lunch and rambled through  less touristy areas.  Not much energy -- I was feeling kind of down as it was my mother's birthday - first one not to be able to acknowledge with her.  Came home late afternoon thinking we would rest up for our night out to go see the Eiffle tower in lights.  After a nap and our store-bought leek quiche (yum) we got lazy and decided to stay in and watch a movie.  We brought a pile of movies and this was the second one I've watched.  It was my choice so I picked out 'Chocolat'.  Seemed appropriate!  The first was "The Count of Monte Cristo" -- do you see a theme here?
. 



Pompideau Center

 Our plan for yesterday was to finally visit the Pompideau museum which is a block away.  This art museum picks up where d'Orsay leaves off and covers 1905 to the present.  We looked forward to seeing some contemporary art. The building is different from anything else we'd seen.  We've learned that anything new in Paris at first causes huge controversy and complaints and then everybody grows to love it and have pride in it.  Truly a pattern.  We covered one floor of art dating from 1905-1960, enjoying the works of Picasso, Chagall, Matisse and learning a little about the different art movements.  After returning home to eat lunch, we headed back to visit the 4th floor of art from 1960 - present.  The 4th floor started with a special exhibit by female artists mainly from the 70's.  I'm talking about the angry-feminist 70's.  Lots of private parts and violence and in-your-face statements.  Calm down!!  Example - video of a nude woman on the beach using a hula hoop made of giant thorns causing cuts and scars on her belly.  That was actually one of the more subtle pieces.  I realize the purpose of shocking society out of the status quo -- but it doesn't work for me in this era. It's like it's too soon to look back at that.  Maybe in one hundred years -- says the expert art critic and art historian.  We were ready to move on to Pollock, Warhol, etc.  -- but wait!  That entire section was closed for renovation.  What?? Big disappointment.  So glad that is the only time we had a problem like that.

I have a new favorite artist from the first part of the 20th century -- Visaly Kandinsky.

We had a fashionable late dinner at a restaurant serving fondue.  I had onion soup (I guess it's redundant to call it French onion soup), then Ernie and I shared a 3 cheese fondue with bread and potato to dip; and a beef fondue with three sauces.  Everything was delicious.  It seems especially good when you eat sitting in the open air with street entertainers stopping to perform.   I had wine and Ernie decided to have an aperitif of Ouzo in preparation for Athens.  This picture says it all . . . . .

Once again we were too tired for out night visit to the Eiffle tower.  Tonight is our last night so the tower at night is is a do or die.  Probably a bad choice of words considering Paris is on high alert due to some kind of terrorist threat.  The tower was evacuated last week due to a bomb scare.  This morning I said at least we won't be going up in the tower -- then realized scraps of falling metal could hurt those on the ground just a bit.  Being impaled by the Eiffle tower is a unique way to go.

First thing on the agenda for the day: a new suitcase for Ernie.  Remember the broken handle?  He was planning to try to use the suitcase anyway but thankfully accepted that it would be very difficult to board trains, move up and down escalators, take metros and search for our apartment in Rome hauling a broken-down bag.  (and I'm not talking about myself)

Back to packing and hoping we're not over the weight limit which is lower flying to Rome than it was flying to France.  Why can't they be consistent??  Keep your fingers crossed that the airline doesn't go on strike as threatened, with the air traffic controllers joining in.  The French love their strikes and even give a beginning and ending date in advance.  See, they ARE polite!

Maryl

welcome to the Train California

Look at the naive people



Trying to figure it all out

 The past three days have been full of more of the same -- but it's all stuff we love.  Thursday we took the train to Versailles.  Well, eventually we took the train to Versailles.   After carefully investigating which train to take, we hopped on, got good seats and were enjoying the ride.  It was especially fun when the train emptied at a stop and we had the whole car to ourselves when it continued.  We fooled around and took some pictures.  We joked about it being the Train California - you can get on but never get off.  It went on a little farther then stopped at a station, where we heard sound of the engine shutting down, the exhale of the brakes releasing, and then SILENCE.  We looked back and forward at the other cars and realized we were the only passengers on a now out of service train.  We tried the doors and they wouldn't open. We got the door open on the tracks side (the dangerous side).  We were thinking we'd have to make a run for it, but I was able to find a door I could push open on the platform side.  We got out with our now useless tickets and had no idea what to do..  An angel appeared in the form of a very tall man from Detroit who had been living in Paris for the past several years.  He took care of us and we finally got the train that was going ALL the way to Versailles.  All was well until it was time to ride back and our tickets weren't accepted again.  We kept trying until we realized we hadn't bought round trip tickets.  I wonder how many times we'll have a bad train experience before we really get it.

Versailles was more gilt-covered and extravagant than I had imagined.  Louis XIV must have had an ego the size of France.  Each room had at least one prominent portrait or sculpture of him as the focal point.  He believed in leaving no wall space unadorned.  Brocade, art and embellishments were everywhere.  There is no furniture since the palace was looted during the revolution (understandably so, considering what the average Parisian's life was like compared to the life of the royalty).  The gardens are miles of manicured, carefully layed-out ponds, fountains, lawns, flowers.  Marie-Antoinette longed for the country life -- a faux country life. She had a "farm" created for her with perfumed sheep and vegetables tended by servants so she could put on her country frock and pick them when they were ripe.

Yesterday started out as a lazy day.  My feet were really hurting during and after walking on bumpy coblestones all day at Versailles.  My feet have been spreading the past few years like brie on a hot sidewalk.  I thought I had it covered with the shoes I brought with me, but things were getting bad.  I stuck on my flip flops (the only thing that wouldn't touch my blistered baby toe) and  went to the monster mall (train station and metro inside) all by myself.  I was proud that I was able to buy 2 pairs of shoes at two different stores and find my way back home.  Shopping was funny.  My mind went blank on the French I've learned and I basically stood there like a mute and pointed and gestured.  All I could think of is zapatas and muy grande. 

I bandaged up my toe, stuck on my ugly but comfortable new shoes that are very unFrench (actually they are Columbia) and Ernie and I went out to explore inside Notre Dame.  Awesome.  We walked around Isle St. Louis, then walked across the bridge and discovered an open air market.  We came home with chocolate, wine and a wonderful sweet bread.  On with more exploring in the Pont Neuf area and some excellent gazpacho. Feet were good!

Today was our Montmarte day.  Took the metro and walked up the hill to Sacre Coeur.  Lots of stairs - we opted not to take the Funiculaire.  It was a challenge -- I found a muscle I hadn't yet strained.  The church was impressive, with several domes.  Inside the church the largest was covered with a huge, detailed mosaic.  More statues.  And a great view of the city below. We walked from there into the village of Montmarte which had a totally different feel from the city below.  Wandering the winding streets was a great way to spend a sunny afternoon.  I hesitate to say that we strolled through another cemetary.   


Sacre Coeur



After we walked down the hill, we took the metro to my favorite bridge.  The prettiest one in Paris.  Ernie set up his tri-pod on the bridge so he could take pictures of us together.  People would walk by curious about the photo session taking place.  You should have seen the disappointment on their faces when they saw the photo subjects.  Crossing the bridge, we continued to the Champs Elysees and swam through the Saturday crowds.  We had a yearning for McDonalds.  #6 combo, supersized.  It was the most packed restaurant we've seen! 

If you are still reading, you're now up-to-date.  Three more days until we leave for Rome so we need to get in the last few places we'd like to see.  We're winding down a bit.  I think I hit the pillow about 9 pm last night.  That's my idea of Friday night in gay Paris.

Maryl

. . . when you're a stranger

Ah, the day yesterday was weather perfect.  Off we went to see more dead people.  We don't have a fixation with cemetaries, but I have to admit we like to explore them.  Hopped on the metro to Pere-Lachaise Cemetary - the oldest and most notable in Paris.  You've got your painters, sculptors, singers (opera, pop, rock), composers, authors, playwrites, dancers, and people you don't know what they did but they were still famous.  The most visited grave (and probably the least important) is Jim Morrison of The Doors.  There you found the most people hanging around.  There, and by some guy who invented spiritism.  People hung around trying to commune with him.  I think he might have had a little shock when he met death.  Some of notables were Chopin, Edith Piaf, Isadora Duncan, Bisset, Moliere, Oscar Wilde, Delacroix.  It is actually a beautiful place -- an art gallery on a hill full of statues, interesting architecture, chestnut trees, and stories.  There were many moving memorials to French citizens who died in prision camps.

We came back home and ate at a neighborhood cafe -- Turkish.  Good food and nice people.  The server wanted to talk and we thought he was understanding us.  He's answer yes to the same question asked several different ways to make sure he understood --but then a minute later we'd realize he didn't get it at all.  He basically told us what we were going to order.  Brought us the beer he thought we should have (it was good).  And wanted to serve us Turkish tea on the house.  I think he felt bad when we refused, but Ernie doesn't like tea and I can't have the caffeine.  Too hard to explain, so we had to leave him with a sad face.

After resting up for awhile, we walked over to the Seine to take a night cruise to see the lights of the City. City of Light, you know.  We sat on the upper deck and had a great view.  Tres romantic.  Walking home we ran into a couple of street musicians performing in front of Notre Dame and enjoyed that for awhile.  By then it was after 11 pm and people were still milling around everywhere.  I'm convinced nobody in this city sleeps.

Today was another art museum day.  The d'Orsay is the next art age after the period covered in the Louvre.  Gaugain, Degas, Monet, Manet (I still can't keep those two straight), Van Gogh, Rodin, & many more.  We were able to cover the entire museum but were getting a little punchy.  We might have given up but the last exhibit we came to was furniture from the art deco era and it was fascinating.  Not exactly Ikea.  We walked home rather than take the metro, ate at home, and I don't think I've moved from the couch for about 3 hours.

One thing I've learned about myself is that I'm scarf challenged.  I brought a few scarves to wear to try to blend in (good luck there) and I just can't get that thrown on but laying perfectly look.  I look like I have a water hose around my neck.  I see women (and men) walk by with their scarves perfectly in place through wind and rain, but I can't even walk across the street without having to adjust it.  It must be a genetic thing the French have evolved to over the generations.  I am so tempted to stop some woman in the streets and ask for lessons.

Off to Versailles tomorrow. 

My dogs are barking (and howling)

Walk, walk, and more walk.  No wonder nobody in this city is fat.  Then I don't suppose they come home and eat what I eat at the end of the day.  Especially as a reward for all that walking!

Yesterday was another lovely day.  The camera store was closed so we listened to a Rick Steves travel podcast about the Morais and decided it sounded like a nice area to visit.  We took out our book of walking tours and realized we are staying in the Morais district!  One of the comments about the Morais was that it was an area with many ethnic groups, young people, gay comunity, etc.  Well, that certainly explained a lot.  The "Bear Bar" we passed that was full of men . . . .and all the PDA of various combinations of sexes.  Sounds like a little much, but it's actually a very interesting district.  We have felt safe here and enjoy the sounds of community life drifting up to our apartment.

We took a couple of walks of the Morais district that we found in our walking tour book.  It was nice to get off of the beaten path and see places where people live their lives.  When we stopped to look at our map to try and figure out exactly where we were somebody always stopped to try to help us.  We really haven't experienced much of the infamous French dislike of Americans.  We visited a couple of 17th century churches, walked through charming courtyards of antique shops and cafes, and saw a few mansions (called "l'hotels which mean "big house") .  It is hard to believe that those were homes for one family.  Lots of ego on display.  We spent the day wandering, sometimes lost, but always finding something wonderful to experience.  Everywhere you look is a photo op.

Speaking of photo ops, today we got cannonized.  We picked up a camera and are back in business.  Looks like it is working fine and we will figure out what to do with the Euopean power cord once we are back in the US. 

Today (Monday) was our Louvre Day.  We covered as much art as our brains, eyes, and feet could handle.  Using the audio tour is must.  The Louvre is a most amazing place with works from every artist you've ever heard of and many you (well, at least WE have never heard of).  We hit the big shows - Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo - and the lesser commercial attractions until our eyes blurred and it was closing time.  Even though we didn't cover it in its entirely, we made a good dent.  Since we're planning to hit a couple of other art museums - l'Orsay and Pompidou - but need to clear our brains between visits.  We can only allow so much culture into our brains at a time without needing potato chips and a beer.

Ernie decided he is not going to blog so I'll carry on.  Thanks for the encouraging comments.  It's nice to
know somebody is interested!

Dying to get in there

We decesended into the catacombs.  It was eerie and fascinating.  They were created in the 18th century when the cemetaries were closed for public health reasons.  The human remains were moved to disused limestone quarries.  Millions of bones.  It looked like walls were constructed out of the largest bones with skulls as "decorations" and the rest of the bones were thrown behind the wall.  It was strange to think of each skull representing a life with all its joys and pains.  I said it would be cool if you could touch a skull and hear the persons life story.  Yeah, Ernie thought it was creepy too.  We were respectful, but you couldn't help but come out with "Dem Bones" every once in awhile.  I would not like to be in the catacombs at the resurrection.

It was a full day.  We also went to a park called le Jardin de Louxembourg.  The huge gardens face one of the many palaces in the area.  It was a beautiful, warm Saturday afternoon and the park was full of Parisians enjoying the day.  Kids playing soccer, mothers pushing strollers, lovers having picnics, bicyclists, and a couple hundred people sitting in chairs in the sun watching everybody else.  I think people-watching is the national pastime.

From there we went to the church of St. Surplice.  It's the church featured in The DaVinci Code where they look at the sundial on the floor and whatever -- I don't remember.  Very nice church, but I couldn't find the sundial even with two go-rounds. 

Stopped to eat at a restaurant.  We usually order from "le menu" which is the prix fixe meal.  They offer a couple of appetizer choices, main course choices, and a dessert.  Sometimes a drink also.  It's the best deal.  We learned that in France fast service is bad service so we are getting used to waiting between courses.  We were in a small place without many other customers.  We watched the waitress remove and repolish her nails while we were waiting for dessert.  Seriously! 

Ernie took dozens of pictures but they weren't there when he tried to download them to the computer.  I think he finally accepts the death of the camera.  He was in the denial stage.  So, buying a new camera is of our goals for today -- which is getting off to a very late start after too much walking yesterday!

There is a church (St something) right outside the front of the apt. and we were treated to church bells announcing mass all morning.  A lovely way to spend the morning.  I guess we should have actually gone to church!

Maryl

no worries

Back on wireless after 24 hours of disconnect.  We felt helpless without it.  It's been a day of equipment failures.  My fairly new camera died.  Ernie's camera developed (ha!) schizophrenia -- works sometimes then totally loses the pictures we took.  He pulled the tri-pod out of his backpack and parts flew everywhere never to be found.  I will go to great lengths to prevent pictures of me being taken -- but even I won't go that far. 

We did the tourist hop on-hop off bus yesterday and today.  It's a good way to get an overview of the city and decide what we want put on our schedule for a longer visit.  Plus you can sleep when you get tired.

I've been trying to use my French with mixed results.  I tried to ask for cream for coffee at the little market.  The guy looked at me and said in perfect English - "I don't have any idea what you are saying".  That was a little discouraging!  Yesterday we went to, well, we went to Starbucks OK??  I asked for a certain type of donut.  I got a donut all right, but not the type I wanted.  I ate it anyway.  Today I tried to order a sandwhich.  I ended up with a donut.  What is it with the donuts??  I just couldn't settle for a donut when I wanted a sandwich.  This time I gestured to get what I wanted.  Once again, I got that look.  The last time I tried I was ordering a crepe with Nutella and Grand Marnier (yes, it was as good as it sounds).  I was understood and had a friendly reaction.  It's hit and miss.  Ernie says I need to speak with more authority.  Nothing like being wrong with authority.

He needs to write but hasn't taken up the gauntlet.  Soon, I hope.  (btw - gauntlet is a French word.  Maybe I can work it into a converation)

Whew

We made it. Uneventful trip.  Just the usual things to whine about - terrible food, terrible movies, no leg  room.  I didn't get the blood clot I always fear.  (do not cross legs, do not cross legs, do not cross legs is sill repeating in my head)

Do the Filippinis take a taxi from the airport?  NO!  We travel like the locals and take the train and walk.  They have a big advantage -- they actually know where they are going.  We did pretty good getting the train.  Interesting watching the people who actually have less manners than Americans riding public transport.  We watched a guy refuse to budge when a woman pushing a stroller tried to get on and he wouldn't stand up from his seat by the door to give her enough room to pass through.  He did complain (didn't understand the words but the facial expressions were universal) when she bumped his  foot and he finally got up in a huff and moved to another seat.  Our big problem was leaving the train station thru the ticket "turnstyle."  The door closed on Ernie's bag and as he tried to yank it thru he broke his pull handle.  New bag of course.  Mine just plain wouldn't fit and I pulled like a miracle might happen until I realized I had to turn it sideways.  I don't want to review the security cameras on that ungraceful exit.  I actually asked for the location of our street in French and got an answer I could understand.  Well, it was mostly pointing -- but I got it.  Pulling a 50 lb bag on cobblestone for a few blocks is no easy feat.  I got a very dirty look from Ernie when I snickered at his handle pulling right out of his bag and leaving two wire arms like poor burned out Touchdown Jesus (cinci reference).  I tried (but failed) to not mention that a taxi would have been cheaper than a new suitcase.

The apartment is very small, but nice.  Fisheye pictures are always a bit deceiving.  Clean.  Stairs up to the 2nd floor are tiny, circular, doll-house steps.  Thank you, God, for giving men the responsibility of carrying heavy bags up stairs.  We look out on a busy pedestrian street (no cars) with shops and restaurants.  The landlady met us here and gave us the low down on the area.  All safe, but watch out for theft walking to the left of the building.  After she left, we both had a 3 hr nap with me dreaming of urchins and gypsies stealing my possessions. Tipper Gore was in it too but I don't remember the connection.

Off to dinner.  I hope I don't accidently order rabbit or tripe.

Maryl

Kitchen Sink

Not exactly all but the kitchen sink, it wouldn't fit..  Good thing there is a weight limit on our bags or we'd probably keep going.  If we knew we could find Parisian Walmarts, we'd probably leave half the stuff behind.  I just don't want to spend my vacation trying to find ear plugs or allergy pills or needle and thread..  We thought we were packing light,  but we are up to the weight limit of 50 lbs.  I guess throwing in 3,6,8 oz. stuff adds up.  Yes, we will look like typical Americans who has no concept of moderation -- however, we will also forge ahead with pride in our resourcefulness.  Plus, there is no room for souvenirs for those back home which takes a lot of pressure off!

Maryl