Paris: Parte Deux

The string section of the Paris Philharmonic Orchestra giving a performance in a metro station.

By now we had been walking for at least 12 hours, and we were both getting hungry again.  We were tired and wanted to get to the McD's by our hotel room, but the next bus to Porte de Vincennes wasn't coming for another 20 minutes and it took us at least half an hour to get back to our part of Paris.  It was another 10 minutes before the restaurant closed and the group who was there before us got their order, but the staff refused to serve us.  Even when the other people standing there tried to argue on our behalf they refused.  By the time we returned to our hotel, we had been on our feet for 14 hours, and the last thing either of us wanted to eat was the cheese, granola bars, and oranges we had at the hotel room.  Sarah was venting the brunt of her frustration at me and I was doing the best I could with the nothing we had.  It wasn't pretty.

Stumbling upon Godot.

Neither was the next day.  We wanted to fill our last full day in Paris with interesting things, but this was apparently not to be.  Another warning for travelers: not only does the Louvre close ridiculously early, but it's not open on Tuesdays.  Strike two came when we tried to go to the catacombs, which close at 5 pm.  Because of this, people line up around the block to get in, and you have to be there at 10 am at the latest if you want to get a good tour.  We were there at two, and they were already telling people to find something else to do.  I had been getting fairly frustrated by this point, so I can imagine what it was like for my poor girlfriend, who has been wanting to go to France since high school.  Not wanting a repeat of the previous day, we sat down and tried to plan with the hopes of finding things we could do for free.  We had already wasted 4 metro tickets between us and weren't wanting to spend any more money than we had to at this point.

That's how we found ourselves exploring Montparnasse Cemetery -- final resting place for some of history's rich and famous.  The other major one is Pere Lachaise, but we didn't make our way there. 

We also found Jean Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir.

This monument would probably haunt my nightmares.

Even if I had never heard of Dr. Who...

Yeah, they're real.  No idea who's grave that is though.

La Basilique Sacre Coeur in Montmartre.

A gorgeous carousel below Sacre Coeur.

Once the cemetery closed, we hopped onto the metro again and made our way to Montmartre, largely because we heard the food was good for reasonable prices.  This is actually true, but since our budget was incredibly tight we were trying to get the best deal we could for practically nothing.  First we tried to go to Sacre Coeur. We found some lovely post cards and an old-fashioned double carousel, but we also found more hustlers that wanted 15 euro for some woven bracelets made out of embroidery floss that they tried to call good luck charms.  Apparently "go away" and "please f*** off" just translates as "yes please" to these people no matter how many languages you say it in.  Before this, I was willing to run to the top of the stairs to look at the Basilica and take some pictures while Sarah sat, rested, and followed me in her own time (as we did at the Cliffs of Moher) -- but afterward I felt it best not to get separated.  Especially if anyone approached her for more shenanigans in my absence.  As we walked down (but also up) the Rue des Abbesses, we were careful to keep her purse between us for safety's sake.  There was a lot more walking and a good deal of "hanger" (pron han-grrrr) from us both before we found a restaurant with some affordable stuff.  What is a trip to Paris without French bread and onion soup anyway?

Onion soup and bread.  Quels choses peuvent etre meilleurs?

 
The rest of the night was pretty decent: we walked down to the Moulin Rouge and hopped the metro to go back to our hotel.  We had a fairly early morning and a loooong bus ride ahead of us, so preparations needed to be made ahead of time.  We were expecting many changes and frequent stops, but by some miracle we got a direct bus to Gliwice that translated into 24 hours across three countries.

This random cool place we found.

While it's true that we had a really crappy experience in Paris, I think we would have enjoyed it with more time and money.  We will have to go back.  I did feel like an utter ass every time I tried to use my rusty French on cashiers and greeters, only to find that most of them spoke perfect English.