Jackie stopped at a nearby luggage place to buy a carry-on bag, which I will use to bring back some of her items and souvenirs and all of those expensive, expensive gifts she bought for her Mom (you are reading this, Mrs. Blondeau, aren't you?). She also bought a fleece blanket for her hiking trip in Spain. She's pickier than you might think - this blanket was too red, that one was too blue, and she didn't like the goofy fringe on that one.
For lunch, we decided to return to "Paristanbul", because we both enjoyed the meal so much. In spite of the fact that we thought we ordered the same thing, we actually ended up with a different meal. Chicken again, but this time instead of a pita-like sandwich, it came with couscous and it came with bread on the side.
After lunch, we went to the Gare L'Est to buy Jackie's train ticket to Pamplona. Lots of purchases for Jackie today! Whee - look at those Euros fly!
With that out of the way, we decided to get a day pass for the metro. Jackie had wanted to visit the Bois de Boulogne park, and I wanted to see Château de Vincennes. We figured we could do both, so first we went to Château de Vincennes. This is a very-impressive looking medieval fortress. It had a real drawbridge, and the deepest moat I have seen yet. (None of the moats are filled with water, by the way. They're just a deep pit with grass on the bottom. I guess it would be too much work to keep the water from getting scummy and stinky... plus some dimwit tourist might jump in and drown.)
Unfortunately for us, by the time we'd arrived, there was only a french-language tour being held, and you don't have access to most of the areas if you're not going on the tour. Le doh! Oh well, we weren't going to spend 6€ on a tour that we didn't understand. Unfortunately, that meant we didn't get to see the dungeons. Darn it. So wanted to see some dungeons.
However, we did decide to walk around outside. The buildings alone are quite impressive. And the site was obviously undergoing some major restoration - they were working on the stained glass of the church inside, and one entire tower was covered with scaffolding and a crane (which ruined many a photo opportunity, let me tell you!).
So, we hopped back onto the metro, and headed for the Bois de Boulogne, which was on the other end of the metro run. I had a hard time staying awake - it's dark, always warm underground, and if you don't have an especially squeaky train, it kind of rocks you to sleep. Every now and again, Jackie would get a whiff of gas from Les Égouts (see yesterday's entry!). Hey, at least now we know what it is!
The Bois de Boulogne is supposed to be Paris' biggest, most impressive park. Their version of Hyde Park. So, we get off the metro at Les Sablon and see... traffic. Not just a few cars, but lots of beep-beep-vroom-vroom-whoosh traffic. Okaaaay. We decide we should have got off one stop earlier. Thank goodness for our day pass! We hop back onto the metro and get off at Argentine. This time, we walk out and there are some trees. But still lots of traffic. Somehow, we end up on the island of a traffic circle. Lots of jaywalking follows to get back to pedestrian-land.
Okay, we've found the park. Or have we? I am underwhelmed. Jackie says I need to adjust my expectations. I shouldn't be imposing my Canadian standards of park-ness. Perhaps in France, parks involve trees and traffic. I sulkily recall that I could watch the traffic from the Arc de Triomphe, and it was a lot more interesting there. I want to ride in a horse and carriage.
We walk, and we walk, and we walk some more. We zigzag erratically, in hopes of finding something a little more spectacular than trees. Finally finding a side path that does not involve cars, we walk along and meet an old man who says something to us. "Beware," he said (en francais, of course), "turn back now, and go no further, for great harm will befall you in these forests of baloney." Or something like that. (That may not be an exact translation. Jackie claims he just said, "Be careful here.") Jackie and I are suddenly paranoid. The forest now seems especially sinister. And my Paris book warns about hookers and muggers after dark. Are we about to be mugged?
Jackie starts to blame my book. It's my book's fault for not telling us that this park is not that exciting. Or maybe it's just because we're on the edge of the park and we'd have to walk for three days before running into something interesting. I lament the fact that the metro does not run through the park. If the park can have traffic circles, why can't it have metros?
We venture off onto a side path again. I am mollified when we see a small stream and a small waterfall. And a rabbit. And lots of trees. Okay, it's a little bit like a park. After more walking, we find a very nice little path around a pond, with lots of ducks and geese and pigeons. A little further, and there are hordes of screaming children. I knew it was too good to last. Where is the promised palace? Where are the promised horsey rides?
Perhaps it is a very nice park. It sounded like it was in the book. Perhaps we just got off at the wrong metro stop.
Finally admitting defeat, we retrace our rather circuitous path back to the metro. Since we've eaten at most of the restaurants in our area, we get off at the Hôtel de Ville and stop in at a place called Bistrot Marguerite. It's on a corner by the Seine, so there is lots to look at. Nevertheless, after waiting in vain for our waiter to return to give us the bill, we finally have to go up to the front to pay our bill. As Jackie noted, they're in the middle of tourist-land; they probably don't have to worry about repeat business. After all, every day, another busload of tourists arrives!
We cross the bridge to the Notre-Dame marketplace to stock up on a few Eiffel Towers, and then head back to the hotel.
For lunch, we decided to return to "Paristanbul", because we both enjoyed the meal so much. In spite of the fact that we thought we ordered the same thing, we actually ended up with a different meal. Chicken again, but this time instead of a pita-like sandwich, it came with couscous and it came with bread on the side.
After lunch, we went to the Gare L'Est to buy Jackie's train ticket to Pamplona. Lots of purchases for Jackie today! Whee - look at those Euros fly!
With that out of the way, we decided to get a day pass for the metro. Jackie had wanted to visit the Bois de Boulogne park, and I wanted to see Château de Vincennes. We figured we could do both, so first we went to Château de Vincennes. This is a very-impressive looking medieval fortress. It had a real drawbridge, and the deepest moat I have seen yet. (None of the moats are filled with water, by the way. They're just a deep pit with grass on the bottom. I guess it would be too much work to keep the water from getting scummy and stinky... plus some dimwit tourist might jump in and drown.)
Unfortunately for us, by the time we'd arrived, there was only a french-language tour being held, and you don't have access to most of the areas if you're not going on the tour. Le doh! Oh well, we weren't going to spend 6€ on a tour that we didn't understand. Unfortunately, that meant we didn't get to see the dungeons. Darn it. So wanted to see some dungeons.
 |
 |
 |
However, we did decide to walk around outside. The buildings alone are quite impressive. And the site was obviously undergoing some major restoration - they were working on the stained glass of the church inside, and one entire tower was covered with scaffolding and a crane (which ruined many a photo opportunity, let me tell you!).
So, we hopped back onto the metro, and headed for the Bois de Boulogne, which was on the other end of the metro run. I had a hard time staying awake - it's dark, always warm underground, and if you don't have an especially squeaky train, it kind of rocks you to sleep. Every now and again, Jackie would get a whiff of gas from Les Égouts (see yesterday's entry!). Hey, at least now we know what it is!
The Bois de Boulogne is supposed to be Paris' biggest, most impressive park. Their version of Hyde Park. So, we get off the metro at Les Sablon and see... traffic. Not just a few cars, but lots of beep-beep-vroom-vroom-whoosh traffic. Okaaaay. We decide we should have got off one stop earlier. Thank goodness for our day pass! We hop back onto the metro and get off at Argentine. This time, we walk out and there are some trees. But still lots of traffic. Somehow, we end up on the island of a traffic circle. Lots of jaywalking follows to get back to pedestrian-land.
Okay, we've found the park. Or have we? I am underwhelmed. Jackie says I need to adjust my expectations. I shouldn't be imposing my Canadian standards of park-ness. Perhaps in France, parks involve trees and traffic. I sulkily recall that I could watch the traffic from the Arc de Triomphe, and it was a lot more interesting there. I want to ride in a horse and carriage.
We walk, and we walk, and we walk some more. We zigzag erratically, in hopes of finding something a little more spectacular than trees. Finally finding a side path that does not involve cars, we walk along and meet an old man who says something to us. "Beware," he said (en francais, of course), "turn back now, and go no further, for great harm will befall you in these forests of baloney." Or something like that. (That may not be an exact translation. Jackie claims he just said, "Be careful here.") Jackie and I are suddenly paranoid. The forest now seems especially sinister. And my Paris book warns about hookers and muggers after dark. Are we about to be mugged?
Jackie starts to blame my book. It's my book's fault for not telling us that this park is not that exciting. Or maybe it's just because we're on the edge of the park and we'd have to walk for three days before running into something interesting. I lament the fact that the metro does not run through the park. If the park can have traffic circles, why can't it have metros?
We venture off onto a side path again. I am mollified when we see a small stream and a small waterfall. And a rabbit. And lots of trees. Okay, it's a little bit like a park. After more walking, we find a very nice little path around a pond, with lots of ducks and geese and pigeons. A little further, and there are hordes of screaming children. I knew it was too good to last. Where is the promised palace? Where are the promised horsey rides?
Perhaps it is a very nice park. It sounded like it was in the book. Perhaps we just got off at the wrong metro stop.
Finally admitting defeat, we retrace our rather circuitous path back to the metro. Since we've eaten at most of the restaurants in our area, we get off at the Hôtel de Ville and stop in at a place called Bistrot Marguerite. It's on a corner by the Seine, so there is lots to look at. Nevertheless, after waiting in vain for our waiter to return to give us the bill, we finally have to go up to the front to pay our bill. As Jackie noted, they're in the middle of tourist-land; they probably don't have to worry about repeat business. After all, every day, another busload of tourists arrives!
We cross the bridge to the Notre-Dame marketplace to stock up on a few Eiffel Towers, and then head back to the hotel.
Comments
Post a Comment