June 2013 — the final leg of the trial run. Trying to find the Avis rental car drop-off in Marseille was a bit hair-raising, involving David driving in a large and unfamiliar city in bumper to bumper traffic (sometimes literally) and me periodically hanging out the window or even jumping out at various corners and accosting strangers for directions. But we finally found the place, parked the car in an open spot and went looking for someone to check us in. When we finally did, they had no interest in actually seeing the car and just said something to the effect of, “Oh, it’s parked down there. Okay.” No checking for new dents and scratches. No even making sure it’s actually in their lot. It was a little unusual, but no additional charges ever came through, so I guess all was well.
From there, we walked around the corner with our bags and followed the crowds, since not one sign pointed us to la gare (the train station). After a few hours on the TGV — super comfy, big cushy seats — we made it to Paris for an afternoon and evening in Montmartre. Longest taxi ride ever in near grid-locked traffic from Gare de Lyon, but still only 24 euros so didn’t break the bank. We’ve learned not to attempt the Metro with multiple bags, especially if there will be a connection, which there would have been. If you’ve never used the Paris Metro, be forewarned that many steps are involved, some go down just to go right back up FOR NO APPARENT REASON except to bedevil those dragging around bags on wheels. Not to mention the random confusing forks in the road. Someone should create a map of the underground tunnels leading to the various stations. But since I’m not aware of one, take a TAXI!!!!!
But we made it. Took a bit of a wander round after checking business emails, bien sûr (of course).
Try to ignore the couple in matching T-shirts checking their i-Phone. Pretty much impossible to avoid tourists in your photos of Paris/Montmartre unless you’re willing to get up at the crack of dawn (which I’m not, even though the light would be beautiful). This restaurant was the setting for a famous Renoir painting, Bal du Moulin de la Galette. Moulin is French for “windmill.” So if you’ve heard of Moulin Rouge, it’s a red windmill that happens to be over a very expensive well-known nightclub.
Everything is VERY cute here.
Super cute. Thinking about trying to get a table for dinner. We didn’t make a reservation which is often a mistake in Paris, but we’ll wander over around 8 and hope for the best.
This is the view of Sacré Coeur when coming up from the public WC’s (down the steps southeast of the entrance, in case you’re ever looking), which I was very happy to have found! Absolutely magnificent cathedral. Made it inside today for the first time. Last attempt the line was too long. No photos allowed inside, I’m sorry to say, but it does help to maintain the sacred space feeling without cameras snapping away all the time.
We enjoyed Montmartre enough that we’ve booked a few apartments in this quartier for our various stays in Paris, one of which has a front door on a landing of one of these stairways:
We did make it home to Colorado the next day. La grève (the strike) was finished in the morning as promised (just making a statement, not hamstringing the entire country). The whole experience certainly broadened our horizons. That last evening, while I did another check of business emails, David watched some sort of Asian cooking show (with English subtitles) where several people were outside around a fire, roasting a spider they had inserted (somehow–I wasn’t watching) in an egg. Yikes. Definitely had to take that man to go find some dinner.