Josh and Rachel Take a Trip

Josh and I were up early again today. We skipped the internet this morning and took our first earnest effort with the metro. The system is pretty clear, and you can buy tickets easily at machines. It’s about $2 a person per trip. Josh resisted — he wants to walk everywhere — but conceded to this adventure for me. We emerged on the other side of city around 9 am, at Place de l’Alma.

Place de l’Alma is significant for two reasons. One, there is a replica of the Statue of Liberty’s flame; two: that flame sits above the tunnel where Princess Diana was killed in 1997. It was touching to see the base of the flame covered with flowers and well-wishes left in memorandum to the Princess, even if she wasn’t ours. In the distance, across the river, you can see the Eiffel Tower.

You don’t expect the immensity of the Eiffel Tower when you see it from a distance. All the metal scrollwork makes it appear dainty, almost fragile. This is a gross under-estimation. We came upon the park that leads up to the monument and woah, mama.

There are three levels. You can take the stairs up to the first level, from any of the four supports at its base, but you must take a lift up to the second and third. You have to go to the top (it’s the freakin’ Eiffel Tower!). We went up, up, up… and up some more. I’m not usually afraid of heights, but it is enough to make your guts squirm a little.

From the top, you can really see the enormity of Paris. The city stretches in every direction, with buildings crowding into one another straight out into the hazy horizon. You could live here for ten years and never explore the whole thing. The view below is tantamount to what you see all the way around. Josh was a little uneasy — the height really is impressive — so we made our way down to the second level.

The second level is not nearly as high, and offers a clearer vision of the “closer” (I use that word lightly) elements. You can also better see the map of Europe they have on the lawn in front of the Tower. They give you a panoramic grid to tell you what you’re looking at, and seeing the monuments at such a scale drives the point home. Madness!

We had a coffee on the first level, looked at a photography exhibit, learned some facts about the tower — the maximum displacement at top is only 18 cm! — and then took the stairs down the East support. With all those criss-crossing lines, I couldn’t quite orient myself correctly, and gravity almost got the best of me a couple times.

We made it to the bottom in one piece, and made our way into the surrounding park for a nap. A ten-minute’s walk away is the Hotel des Invalides — the city’s war museum and Napoleon’s tomb:

Napoleon’s Tomb is impressive, but Josh and I both thought it was a little excessive. I think the National pride of being French would have driven the appreciation home here, but alas, we are Americans — Josh summed it up when he said “wow, short man’s disease much?” Nice sculptures, though.

The attached war museum was fascinating, even if our two busy days were beginning to catch up with us and we couldn’t fully absorb all the information. Regardless, it was an impressive display and our mutual curiosity regarding WWI was satiated. Also, seeing WWII through the eyes of France was incredible and moving. The effect was made more poignant as we made our way through the museum alongside students of the Ecole Militaire, Paris’s premiere military school.

We hopped the metro home, passed out for another nap and steeled ourselves for a fancy dinner out. It wasn’t fancy fancy, but we found a place in our stomping ground of the Republic. There was wine, there was bread, there was champagne with bits of berries in it. I was able to butcher a little french with our patient waiter. And, ladies and gentlemen, Josh had chicken and risotto, with carrots and (he assures me) celery. I would swear it under oath. He liked it and he would have finished all of it if it weren’t for the pound of yummy bread they brought us to munch on. Cappuccinos rounded us out.

Also, French women shed their colors in the evening. I wore burgundy and dark green and I still felt like Rainbow Brite in a goth club.

The bonus — there was a huge concert going on in the Republic’s square, complete with dancing teenagers, traffic jams, a stage, artificial fog and… wait, is that… “Jesse’s Girl”? Amazing but true.