Onward Travels

Working on booking onward travel from Valencia right now.  Things can get a bit complicated when booking because you have to consider both travel costs and accommodation costs at the destination and the fact that one or two days can add $200 to a ticket.  In addition, each day is a tangible cost of at least $40 for accommodations, and that is if we managed to get a deal.  Basically, once we finish booking this period, our summer will be booked.  Getting things together to get to Valencia itself was a nightmare though.  We found a great price on a ticket, but it would have had to be either shipped to us in Paris (wouldn't have arrived in time), or picked up in London.  So that wouldn't work.

Rail passage throughout Europe can be booked:

• www.sncf.com
• raileurope-world.com
• eurostar.com

Best rail resource around:

• Seat61

Plus, even though, our desired route was the train, and we could have found another way to book, it was difficult to pay for the train with a credit card.  Eventually we figured it out, but by that time we had already booked a good deal of that trip by plane.  There are plenty of European budget airlines: Ryanair, Easyjet, Tuifly.  However, we really wanted to travel by train. We actually wanted to take a sleeper from Paris to Valencia, unfortunately before we figured out how to get the sleeper booked, it filled up.  So that will have to wait for next time.  For an adventure, check out the Spanish rail website, Renfe.  To be fair there is an English button, but many travelers have reported that part of the site won't work to book travel.  Not to mention, there are pages written on how to book a train period with a US credit card.  Talk about a Spanish Inquisition!

Anyway, Barcelona and then Valencia are our next destinations.  Both will offer respite from our close quarters in Paris. Both places should be large and provide us space.  Plus the place in Valencia is a five minute walk to the beach.  Morocco will be next after Spain.  We will fly from Paris to Barcelona and take a train to Valencia.  Once we get to Valencia, I have to remember to include a few extra days for Andalusia in our travels.  Andalusia is Southern Spain, ie Moorish Spain.  We really wanted to head straight to this region, but needed to spend a bit of time recouping some money, and sometimes the journey is as important as the destination too.  I mean you probably should visit either Madrid or Barcelona if you are visiting Spain, and we figured Barcelona, closer to the sea would suit us.   Photos will follow once we get going, along with stories about our trip to the airport, which will be fun I am sure.

Theatre de Guignol

I was looking for something that might interest the kids a little bit more than museums or window shopping, and came upon a series of puppet theaters that are scattered across Paris. They are all patterned after the tradition of Laurent Mourguet, who created the original Guignol character, which the theatres are now named after. Mourguet began his adult life as a silk weaver and trader, but that profession dried up and he explored the field of dentistry - which during the late 1700's consisted mainly of pulling teeth and selling drugs to kill the pain afterward.  To attract customers to his booth, he decided to create a hand puppet and put on mini-performances. Hand puppets were a new invention as most puppet shows involved the traditional marionettes controlled by strings.

Here in Paris, the shows are advertised as 'marionette' shows, so I was a bit disappointed when we arrived and the performers used hand puppets. I guess I should have done a bit more research first. Nevertheless, we enjoyed the show, which lasted about 30 minutes. Even though the children don't understand much French at all, they still understood most of the plot and had a great time. 

Theatre de Guignol in the Champs Elysees 

CJ having fun

The performance is beginning

Asari and Jacob enjoying the show

Theatre de Guignol in the Jardin du Luxembourg

Time to do the wash

Generally, I like the idea of a washer and dryer that look simple to use and are gentle on the clothes.  Better, cheap laundry service.  Unfortunately, neither case is the reality in Paris, at least in our little apartment.  I mean there is a small washer, but with an apartment so small and limited window space, laundry would never have the time to dry.  For that reason we have to use a laundromat.

Fortunately, for us, they abound in Paris.  They aren't as abundant as patisseries or tabacs, but they are generally a few in every neighborhood, usually you will walk by one, on your way home.  We walked by a few before we needed to do laundry, when I looked in it looked really, really weird.

I finally decided to go ahead and check the internet for some information on how to use the machines, since the instructions in french were more than a bit intimidating.  When I calmed down and read them, they did make sense, but then I would panic and everything would start blurring out again.  So reading in english via the internet helped tremendously.  First, the machine above is the master of all other machines. It controls when they run.  The way you control it, is money.  You type in the number of the machine you want to use (you should load your clothes and detergent into the machine and close it first) or the product you want to purchase, then you insert the amount requested.  After that the machine starts and works, voila.

So price wise, a small washer costs about 4.55 USD to use, and a dryer about 1.30 USD per 10 minutes.  The small washers are double load washers, generally a week of wash for us could be done for under 20 Euro.  Which isn't bad.  This wouldn't be the place to take clothes for dry cleaning unless you have a little paper stacked up, which we don't right now.  So the laundromat is the way to go.  I try to avoid them on the weekends, just figuring they might get more crowded, but thus far we haven't had problems getting in and out really quick, with only one or two other customers in when we were.

Les Catacombes

Figured I would post about our visit to the catacombs while it is still fresh on my mind. First off, I think I was the only one of our group to say awesome as a description after the visit. I mean, they were all happy to have gone and seen and so on, but they were more spellbound or in awe than anything. The bones, thousands, maybe millions of them, stacked neatly and packed up, one right on top of each other and right under the city. With alters and grave markers and everything. I have never seen anything, anything like it. A testament to human ingenuity to say the least. I mean, the subway is one thing, sewers and all, but an underground grave system. Like a museum? Wow.

I think it is really interesting too, the line. I thought we would be some of maybe 20-30 people who might wait outside. No. The line snaked, and snaked. I doubt if everyone gets in to see them every day. The admission is 8 euros for adults, children free under 14. So we managed to get in with just the two of us paying. There were signs warning about children and some uneasiness they might experience. I asked the two boys about it and they were gung-ho. Remind me of myself. The girls were too. Once we got down there though, they were eyes wide open. Looking around like Mantan Moreland. No, not really, but they were very alert and somewhat ready to leave.

The walk down is 130 or so steps into the abyss and the land of the dead. The way up is another 83. The official entrance to the 3,000km (1,864-mile) tunnel network that runs under much of the city is unassuming enough minus the long winding line of the living waiting to meet the dead.

The rationale is to visit the catacombs converted due to public burial pits overflowing in the era of the Revolutionary Terror, when the bones of six million people were transferred to these catacombes.  A tunnel leads you through a series of galleries before you reach the ossuary, the entrance announced by the sign engraved in the stone: 'Stop! This is the empire of death."  What more can be said?

     
Well nothing, except that we got there by bus, so we had to return by bus.  After walking on what some called a death march to the bus stop we were greeted by a bus driver who waited for us.  I couldn't believe it.  We got on and moved to the back of the bus.  Apparently we were followed by a minion of the abyss who hadn't bathed in 500 or so years.  He had the whole bus lit up and CJ decides to sit right next to him. Can't blame him because there were only two seats available.  Plus the smell was so thick we couldn't determine who was emanating it until he departed.  The little boys were so tired they fell asleep two minutes afterwards though, right next to the cloud.  We said it was from the funk.  The guy, he is listening to some type of dance music in his headphones, and Candice swears he is dancing to it in his seat, moving his smell from side to side.  Brother needs to be introduced to deodorant and step into the 21st century.  Today.  I speak some french, but I wish I could have understood what the lady behind me said after this guy got off the bus.  Candice said after she said it, this other guy just dropped his mouth open, as if in awe.  Anyway, besides that underworld smell scathing us, and leaving my nose permanently bereaved, the catacombs are a must experience part of an experience in Paris.  Only arrive early and properly dressed for the weather if there is a line.  Also, leave the smells of the inhabitants of the catacombs below ground, if in doubt take a cab.

Paris: duck, duck, goose!

In Paris it seems as if butter makes everything better.  Butter, duck fat, more butter, goose fat, creme fraiche and did I mention butter? Croissants that melt in your mouth, foie gras that makes you shed a little tear as it hits the back of your tongue, duck confit that falls off the bone and begs you to eat it. If I didn't have to walk up 4 flights of stairs each time I come and go from the flat, as well as walking to and fro while riding public transportation everyday; I would have gained at least 20 pounds this last month.

Salade du Perigord

Confit de Canard

Foie Gras 

Streets of Paris

The dichotomy of Parisians and their city is mind-boggling to me as an outsider at times. The fashions, food and architecture are at once fabulous and innovative while drawing from the classic sensibilities of the past. That being said, the streets themselves are littered with spittle, phlegm and dog feces. They can be pretty revolting at times. Oh, how do mauve suede Louboutin's survive the minefields that they have to walk through daily? Maybe a few more months here and I will have the riddle solved. 

1st arrondissement

Across from the catacombs

Bustling boulevard

What a beautiful gown!

Need I say more?

Fashionable even on a bike

The 'scruffy yet stylish' look

Sacre Coeur

Sacre Coeur

The basilica is located at the summit of the butte Montmartre, which is a very middle of the road kind of area.  It is the highest point in the city though, which means, a hell of a lot of stairs. Sacré-Cœur has very interesting political, religious and cultural connotations for the French.  Serving as an expensive tax payer assisted national penance for the excesses of the Second Empire and for the socialist Paris Commune of 1871.  

It represents the embodiment of conservative moral order, publicly dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which was a popular vision at the time of a loving and sympathetic Christ.  All that meant I had to take my hat off, after request from some of the caretakers.  It is quite a monument to see to the will of the people and to the Catholic Church.  It is kind of like the crown of Paris in a certain aspect, towering over all, even the obelisk.

The kids projects was to write a brief essay on the history of the Sacre Coeur, when they finish I told them I will post it.  Let's see how it comes along...

Stairs Leading to the Sacre Coeur

View of Paris from Sacre Coeur