Paris & Eiffel Tower

We returned from Stratford after midnight Friday morning. My alarm went off at 2:40 am.

That's two hours of sleep, I point out to you, two hours; a tidy nap that launched an insane day for both Kathleen and myself.

The only reason we booked the 6:55 Eurostar from London's St. Pancras station to France was because the STA agent smiled so friendly-like at us as she swore up, down and backwards that this was the best that could be done for us. (Lies, all lies.) Regardless of the inconvenience, we've known for a while now that our journey would begin early-early; we were as prepared as any two excited travellers could be, heading into the Great Unknown at 3 in the morning.

Kathleen and I set off with a backpack apiece at 3:20am.

And were immediately harassed by drunks. At that time of the morning it is really still night, of course, and the bars of the world but barely closed. The drunks have not had an opportunity to eat cheap, greasy food and to weave their individual ways back to their individual lairs.

We could handle the drunks, who were really almost friendly and quickly sidetracked-- but when the homeless man appeared, like a rodent from the gloom of the sewers, and began tailing us, singing menacing, tuneless songs, Kathleen decided a taxi to the Oxford train station was a necessity. 

Then things get hazy because I was so sleepy. So, brisk overview: five minute taxi to the Oxford train. Hour and a half train to London's Paddington station. Ten minute taxi from Paddington to St. Pancras. Two hour Eurostar train from London to France. Add an hour for the time difference between London and France.

It was 11 am when we bought the first of many jambon baguettes (ham sandwiches) and bottles of water.  We couldn't find a place to sit, so we ate half-asleep on our feet before setting off for the hotel. 

As the walk re-energized us, we decided to walk all the way there, through the crowded streets of Paris.

Okay, to interrupt myself for pictures-- this is actually a picture from the top of the Tower so that you can see the--just the planned MAGNIFICENCE that is Paris. It is completely overpowering-- ANYWHERE you look, there is some entirely too huge and too opulent architectural masterpiece framed perfectly with manicured trees, brilliant flowers, and a sunny sky laced with scudding clouds.

I kid you not. I have never been so overwhelmed by grand beauty in my life. Paris is a beautiful, beautiful city. And all of its beauty is on a scale of hugeness that even CAPITAL LETTERS can't fully express.

This was the first important-looking building that we spotted along our walk to our hotel-- the Crystal Hotel-- a two hour walk, as it turns out.

I'm sorry that I won't have names for you on some of these shots. I know no French, which leads me to the observation that France is totally do-able for English-speaking tourists. I would not want to live here without a grasp of the language, but for a couple of days I managed to survive. 
I panicked a little, along this walk, suddenly completely immersed in foreign culture and strangeness and glowering magnificence-- in Britain, the language is definitely a cushion. Things are exotic, but understandable. I learned what it feels like to be illiterate during my time in Paris; a disconcerting feeling for an English major.

Our hotel was a five minute walk from the Louvre (once Kathleen figured out the shortest route). The day we arrived, we felt too weary to do the Louvre justice. Standing outside its gates after the hour and fifteen minute walk, gaping at a facade that continued for miles, we decided a night of sleep was necessary first. 

That didn't stop us from taking pictures, of course.

Kathleen bought this green bonnet in a hat shop in Oxford.
The Louvre. Famous for a reason. We went for several hours two days in a row and left with barely a percentage scratched. I could sit and stare at any one of the paintings for hours, and there are billions.

Around 1:30 in the afternoon we found our hotel, but were told "Bonjour" and "You're too early to check in." So we set off to experiment with the metro system. Kathleen wanted to see the Catacombs. We shuttled off in the wrong direction at first, but managed to get turned in the right direction. Unfortunately the line for the Catacombs was blocks long and not moving, so our first venture came to naught and we returned to the hotel. My eyes wouldn't stay open-- I'm sure I looked like a monster-- so I gave it up for a loss and slept for a while.

Around 5 we set off and got lost in the Luxembourg Gardens-- good place to get lost! I highly recommend them to you if you are prone to getting lost. They are lovely. We ate more baguette sandwiches on a bench with a gorgeous view. 

This is the Luxembourg Palace. We didn't go inside, but the public gardens gave me a good idea of the beauty that might be found within its walls.
We returned to the hotel room to regroup, fetching jackets, etc., before setting off again. This was the view straight out our window. We were on the fifth floor.
The street far below.

We walked to the Eiffel Tower along the Seine. The Louvre was on the other side of this bridge.
Magnificent, right? This is the same bridge, from a different angle.
AHA! Our goal in the distance! My first sight of the Eiffel Tower.

Made it! 

From the underneath as we waited in line to go up in a lift.

This is the second floor, as we waited in line to go up to the third floor. Oddly enough, we were surrounded by Americans-- high schoolers, a huge group of them, yelling and teasing and being high schoolers. 

We tried to be quiet and pretended we couldn't understand them. I'm fairly certain my act fooled nobody; all the salespeople I spoke with pegged me at bonjour. 
The Tower at night! It's blue! The sun doesn't go down until nearly eleven in France, and rises before seven. The weather was beautiful, breezy and sunny, every day we were there.