A weekend in Paris

Katherine and I spent the weekend in Paris. When I read that, a weekend in Paris, it sounds sort of glamorous and lovely – it wasn't. We went with a tour group, the same group that we used for Scotland last week. When we got on the train to leave for Scotland, we all got an itinerary with the address where we were staying, what time we were doing what, and even what time we would be leaving, and what seats were reserved for us on the train. Because that was our experience, we were expecting something like that again this weekend – it didn't happen. When the coach to pick us up was about 15 minutes late, we started to worry a bit. Then, the tour guide person, who we thought was the tour guide, told us that we would meet our guide in Paris, we worried a bit more. Then, when he added that we would be meeting the other tour, and that our whole group would be 49 people, it just got worse from there. Our driver never said a word to us, until we got to Dover. At that point, about 25 minutes before we parked, she walked through the coach yelling at people to wake up. Literally yelling, I'm not just exaggerating. She said "You have to wake up; you can't stay in the coach on the ferry." Mind you, we hadn't even been given permission to drive onto the ferry yet, much less driven on. She was quite an experience, all by herself.

So we finally drive onto the ferry. My experience with ferry boats is limited to the ferry at Disney World that takes you from the parking lot to the Magic Kingdom, and even then, I prefer the monorail, so I was not prepared for how monstrous this thing we got on really was. The ferry had four parking levels, and it was just monstrous. We didn't actually get a great view of the "White cliffs of Dover" until the way back.

I'm skipping over some stuff here, our driver getting lost, our great 20 minute lunch stop at a rest station, and some other stuff. On Friday, we got to Paris, took a river cruise on the Seine, wandered around the bottom of the Eiffel Tower, and checked into our hotel. Katherine and I checked in, and went for dinner.

On Saturday, we took a bus tour and went to Montmarte, and to Basilique du Sacré-Cœur. It was a fabulous view, although the men trying to tie these string things on us at the bottom were seriously creepy. They were very aggressive and would actually grab you. I have a thing about being touched by strangers and it was very uncomfortable for me. They wouldn't just go away. We rode the little elevator thing up, and then walked down the steps. On the way back to the bus, I had a wonderful experience; I had to use a public restroom. Thank goodness for Jill and Thomas, a couple from New Zealand we met, Jill saved me. She had disposable toilet seat covers and disinfectant wipes, because the toilet wouldn't let me wash my hands, even though there was a place to do it. I tried really hard not to breathe the whole time I was in there. That may be the most disgusting thing I've ever had to do in my life.

    Next, we went to Notre Dame, and wandered through the church. I was amazed at the people snapping pictures like mad, even though there were signs everywhere that said NO PHOTOGRAPHS. It was like fireworks on the Fourth of July in there, with all the flashes going off. I was also amazed that no one was telling anyone to stop. Katherine and I both tried our own little brand of subversive-ness; we tried to get in the way of as many pictures as possible.

I think I need to do laundry now, so I'll come back to this later.