J'aime Paris

What can be said about Paris that hasn't already been said? How about this: crappy architecture and the worst skyline yet. A bit harsh perhaps, but true. Unlike several of the other major cities we've hit and aside from several great structures (i.e. the Eiffel Tour; le Sacre Cour, Pompidou Center, the Orsay, etc.) downtown Paris is actually a nasty amalgam of 1970's block buildings. But this is fine, after all, this is not why you go to Paris..you go for the culture..or so thinks me.

So being the cultural aesthetes that we are, we booked ourselves into the Montemarte district...home of the Moulin Rouge amongst other things.. c'est magnifique!

It was at this point that time decided to hit me with yet another year. Merde. Wasn't so bad actually, spent the night in a bar with my belle and a Beatles / Doors cover band. We sing sung along with a pot pouri mix of garden variety Europeans: large drunk Russian ladies whose voice rattled like a plucked bandsaw, gay french men dressed as Elvis Costello growling away like an operatic Harvey Firestein, and several other stewy types. It was a good night.

Of course we took in the rest of the sights and even caught an Impressionist exhibit (read: Monet, Manet, Cezanne, Picasso et al) at the Orsay. Tres cool.

What else? tired of the relentless tourbook narrative? Here's some other color on the scene. Helen spent almost all of Paris sick with a cold, I got the runs from some bad Vietnamese food. Had a small confrontation with some Nigerian hustlers outside of the Sacre Cour..they convinced Helen to hold onto this piece of string momentarily and within a second they had braided this bracelet around her wrist and were now demanding 10 euro. We argued and insisted they take it back, that we didn't want it, they insisted and when several more joined the fray we tossed them 20 cents and walked away as their eyes burned into our backs. What else..oh yeah, tried absinthe..no big deal..tastes like a nasty watered down Sambuca..

As for our bodies and minds? aside from Helen's recent cold and the occasional spat of the splatters, we've been relatively healthy. Our foreheads and forearms are tanned from spending prolonger hours outside. Our legs are becomming very fit from all the walking/hiking/lugging of packs..I'm actually starting to grow some calf muscles which is a nice change from the chicken legs I'm used to step'n with. Our clothes are beginning to smell persistently despite our best attempts at washing (you try rotating between 3 pairs of socks and underwear for 2 months). We seem to be hitting less and less tourist sites and taking less photos..preferring instead to just relax and enjoy the scene..this at least seems to be working. ('this' being the saturation point that we were looking for, slowly we are shedding our tourist selves and are becoming travelers). Stress too has seemed to wane, I found myself sitting in a cafe the other day thinking of absolutely nothing and feeling more relaxed than I have in a long long time..this seems to be working too. Helen and I have begun to create our own language of hand signs and various head nods to communicate from across crowded trains or when we don't want our euro hosts to know our thoughts (remember all euros speak English..even if they pretend they don't).

Anyway, after several glorious days in ol' Paris we called up the Swiss family Pluess and planned our get away.