Five months after the last post I am able to catch up on the European trip of a lifetime, but hopefully just one of many to come. This trip screams my theme of doing all the things I’ve always wanted to do. I have thirsted for a trip to Europe to explore and travel unrelated to being in the military. Finally I arranged three weeks against three countries with perfect company, who was familiar with Europe and who shared my passion for exploration!
It was Erika who insisted no European vacation could be complete without a Parisian picnic, under the Eiffel Tower, of course. Luckily flying into Paris was the best option to get into Europe based on our itinerary anyway. Jet lag is inevitable, especially with good movies on the plane, so me and my fearless travel companion got settled into the airbnb flat in the heart of the Paris, only a five minute walk from Notre Dame and the Seine, and took a power nap. Then we headed out to max out the time we had. The weather was ridiculously nice and we survived on a crepe diet. Crepes with fruit, chocolate, sausage, or whatever we were in the mood for. Due to our excitement, the jet lag and the good weather, we frequently found ourselves forgetting to eat but every twelve hours, when we would finally recognize our hunger and hit the closest crepe stand. I have no idea how I keep track of all my belongings with this sleep depravation but I felt like a child at Christmas, sleep could wait!
First on the exploration list had to be Notre Dame. I had been there once before, Erika had not. It was almost twenty years ago for me, and of course these timeless structures never lose their grandeur. So just a hop and skip across a couple of roads navigating through crowds and tourist groups we walked all the way around the twelfth century masterpiece and took it in with bloodshot eyes. Lines to go up the bell tower and into the cathedral were too long, and the weather was just too nice, so a walking tour of Paris it became. We casually strolled along the Seine to the Louvre, artists and knick-knack stands abundant on the sidewalks. We speculated which elegant Parisian flat was Serena Williams’ over-looking this magnificent city. As luck would have it lines were grotesquely long at the Louvre, and again the weather was so amiable that we instead strolled around the old fortress/palace-turned-museum and admired the construction and elegance before taking a nap on lawn chairs in the adjacent gardens among the ducks and geese. A coffee was in order, and we strolled along the carefully manicured and maintained gardens before again crossing the Seine to make our way around the city.
I will have to admit that my time in the military really grew my passion for exploring new cities and countries. Once in a while I would be lucky enough to get between sixteen and thirty six hours off in places like Rome, Athens, Cairo, Helsinki, Belize, England, or Seattle. One of my favorite things to do is pop in ear buds, and just ‘tool around’ a city. Paris was even better because I had no time commitment other than lodging plans, which were always flexible. No requirements, nothing to expect, just sunshine and history and visions to soak in. We passed many other museums, like the Musee D’Orsay, which was closed on the Monday we were there, and I decided that one entire trip to Paris would eventually have to be dedicated to museums. This trip was to stretch our legs, get into this long European vacation, and see what we could find. Boulangeries and fresh market stands perfumed the air. We meandered to the Jardin du Luxemborg, another large park within the city where we watched tables and tables of people playing chess, tennis matches accompanied by a few French curses for mishit balls, and some very intense games of bocce. This is real, people really just hang out in Parisian parks and do this. I feel like every French painting I have ever seen finally makes sense. We continued this wandering all day, popping in and out of places, resting, talking, watching and laughing.
After only a few hours of sleep my excitement for the FIFA Women’s World Cup, ironically being played in North America this year, woke me up and took me to a bar literally around the corner where I drank a glass of wine and watched Germany and Norway play a great match. Afterwards Erika joined me and we got some more crepes! This time mine had egg and chorizo and hers had onion and goat cheese and we split one with sweet lemon marmalade. Neither one of us noticed until later that we again hadn’t eaten anything for about 12 hours. What a diet.
A day and a half later, we found ourselves sitting at Odette, a small Parisian café not 100 yards (I guess it would be more appropriate to measure in meters) from the flat that we had just checked out of. I was in need of a coffee and patisserie and had noticed a sign that said Odette and recognized it from some Trip Advisor research. It’s exactly what I pictured a small Parisian café would be. There were a couple of friends sitting at a close table, one playing Spanish guitar and the other playing violin. We were sitting at a bistro ourselves with tiny stools enjoying coffee and caramel chocolates and trying against all odds to summon alertness. It was sunny and warm out, and the narrow streets were bustling. Perfect. We also had a nearly unobstructed view of Notre Dame.
The day before was an even more perfect day in Paris, if that were possible. We went back to the Cathedral after grabbing – wait for this surprise – a crepe. We were able to quickly get inside and poke around, seeing the majestic rose windows, architecture and mini-museum that had been developed inside since the last time I had visited. I enjoyed seeing the Jeanne D’Arc statue inside as well. The history is simply mind-blowing, but I was still waking up so it felt more like a dream. We worked our way that day towards La Tour Eiffel, and along the way had some more classically Parisian stops. We were bent on our picnic mission. This required a stop at a Boulangerie for a fresh baguette, and a wine store before sitting at a café to get coffee. It’s a good thing we sat down for the refreshment before moving on because it gave us time to realize we had no wine bottle opener. Imagine how disappointing that would have been at the base of the tower, spread out on the grass with our picnic blanket and the perfect picnic without an opener. My days of trying to get into wine bottles without an opener ended long ago and I’m sure my skills were too degraded to be useful in that department. Now I realize we could have easily borrowed one, but we weren’t willing to leave the perfect picnic to chance. So together we marched back to the wine store and in my horribly broken and out-of-practice French I fumbled through asking for one (English was mostly sufficient but this kind fellow actually didn’t speak it). In any case, we were successful and the perfect Parisian picnic was on. From there we just looked up and followed streets that got us to the tower. This is somewhat unusual for me, to cruise without a map, but come on Paris is mostly circular and there was no mistaking what direction to walk in with that giant metal tower calling our names to eat and lounge beneath it. All we had to do to get back was find the Cathedral. We passed a lot neat government buildings and embassies, then entered more of a shopping district where we collected more picnic goods; chocolate, peaches and drinks to add to our macaroons, wine, and bread. We found the perfect shaded spot in the grass, stretched out the blanket and marveled at our spread before indulging. We could have been in any number of impressionist paintings, lounging among professional relaxers, observing passers by and looking up at the tower on a sunny day. We talked, napped, and watched the world for hours.
With the Parisian picnic a complete success, we made our way back via the Seine, simple enough. There was a walkway down closer to the river hosting an array of activities from a formal military banquet to street vendors, food shacks and kids on skateboards. There were long narrow cruise ships on the river, full of tourists. We got back and although it was fairly late there was so much sunshine and we had no internal clock after all, so we went out to eat at a small open door restaurant tucked away on an ancient street. We didn’t order crepes. The service was incredible and the food and wine were even better. The street was probably 400 years old. Nap time. I of course made it short so I could wake up and watch the U.S. Women’s National Team beat Nigeria, in their last game of group play before again closing my eyes to the wonders of this amazing city.
I remembered all this and took notes on it sitting at Odette before we left to find the train station and board one that was bound for Lucerne, Switzerland. The guitar next to us started playing again; we could still see Notre Dame. The people who live in an apartment in a building behind and above us came out for a smoke, and gave a cigarette to a bum who looked like he had the timing down perfectly. I bet that happens every day. I already couldn’t wait to come back. But not as much as I couldn’t wait to see the Swiss Alps and catch up with friends Melanie and Marc who I met on a sailboat between Cartagena and the San Blas Islands in the Caribbean.
