So we're back from Paris. It was a really short, pretty uneventful trip. B was a big success at the conference, it seems. His talk went over well, and he asked good questions, and people definitely noticed and remembered him. I'm so proud.
We arrived Thursday early afternoon and took the RER B from CDG to our hotel, near the Luxembourg Gardens. Our room wasn't ready when we got there, so we left our baggage at the desk, then walked to the Ecole Superieur Normale (or however it's spelled), where the conference would be. B likes to be super-prepared and know where everything is ahead of time so there are no surprises and he's always early or on time. Then we sat in the Luxembourg gardens for a little while before heading back to the hotel. We cleaned up and dozed a bit, then headed out for some mad walking. From our hotel in the 5eme Arrondisement, we walked north along Boulevard St. Michel to Ile-de-la-Cite to see Notre Dame. We then crossed the Seine and walked West along the bank of the river, until we reached the Louvre. We walked through the middle of the museum, past the pyramid, through the Tuileries, to the Place de la Concorde, then up the Champs Elysees. We went to a brasserie on a side street for some dinner, then continued up the Champs Elysees to L'Arc de Triomphe. We paid the 16 euros for both of us to climb to the top and admired the view of the city. B was getting pretty tired, so we decided not to walk all the way back to the hotel (it had already been 2.5 hrs or so). But I didn't know when he'd get to go out again, so we walked back across the river to Le Tour Eiffel. We sat under it, gawking at its guts for a few minutes, then it began raining, and we ran for the nearest RER station. We took that all the way back to the 5eme Arrondisment and our hotel. Oh, and I had left our camera in the hotel. Sorry.
The next morning B woke up super early, showered, dressed, and had like an hour to kill before registration began at the conference. He ended up being the first one there. Most people showed up on the later side. That's pretty normal for him. I went back to sleep after having le petit dejeuner in the hotel with B, and woke up about noon. The weather was turning out to be quite pretty, so I decided to walk again. Once again I walked north on St. Michel, this time turning slightly east on St. Germain. I crossed at Ile St. Louis this time and walked northwest to the Bastille. I mean, technically it's a monument, not the actual Bastille. A French woman there, also a tourist I guess, asked me where the Bastille was. I said, "This is it, the monument. It was destroyed." And she said, "Merci" and took some pictures. I took a picture too. From there I walked and walked some more to La Republique, another monument in the middle of a great plaza. My main goal though was to reach the Basilisque de Sacre-Coeur, which had been my favourite thing on my first visit in the summer of 1999.
So I walked and walked and walked some more. The neighbourhoods were changing. Our hotel was located in a more touristy and university student area. This appeared to be where more immigrants lived and shopped - more bargain, street-side bin sales, less brand name. Had I not noticed this in 1999? Or had I come a different way? Or perhaps it was that our hostel had been in a similar area, not in the 5eme Arr, and I'd felt less conspicuous then.
After 2.5 hrs and some consulting of the map, I found myself in front of the Basilica. The sky was blue, the sun was beginning to set. I climbed the stairs, many many stairs, through the crowds of people sitting on the steps listening to a French guy play and sing Tracy Chapman. There had not been crowds like this last time, had there? I took a couple pictures, walked around the back, took a couple more pictures, sat in a garden and ate my cereal bar. Then I walked back to the front and entered the Sacre-Coeur. It was as beautiful as ever, this time with sunlight pouring through the stained-glass windows. It was warm and glorious and quiet, as plenty of people prayed and others looked. After circling the building, I took a seat in a back pew, where I thawed out and began writing a letter. I had to meet B at the Ecole at 7:30, so at 5 I stood and left the building. I stood on the front steps, looking out over Paris, remembering my first time in that spot.
A storm had been brewing, the sky was darkened, and the wind was violent. Everyone had rushed up the steps for shelter in the Basilica's front archways. My hair at that time was waist-length and loose, and it danced crazily in the wind. I remember laughing and relishing it; a man had smiled at me, and beckoned me into the shelter, but I shook my head. I'd felt so young and powerful and alive - not yet 16, not yet kissed, not yet left home, not yet failed, not yet succeeded - full of potential.
After my reverie, I once again braved the many steps, avoided a street vendor, left Montmartre and tried to find Gare du Nord. I panicked when I saw a clock on the street that read 6pm. A man saw my confusion and, walking past me, smiled and said "Ça va?" or something like it. I didn't know if he was being nice or sketchy, so I ignored him. I followed my instincts, with trepidation, and luckily stumbled upon the train station. It turned out the clock on the street had been incorrect, which was comforting, but now I was faced with the train station. I hadn't considered that Gare du Nord might be so big, but I managed to find my way to the RER underground. Half the ticket machines weren't working, so I waited a while in line, but I made it to the train and back to the hotel with an hour to spare.
I joined B at a reception for the philosophers at the Ecole, and then we went to dinner with a few of them not too far away. It had been a long, tiring day for both of us, in different ways, and we went right to sleep afterward. The next day was the day of B's talk. Again we woke early for breakfast, and he practiced a little before leaving while I went back to bed again. I woke late and cleaned up, gathered some things and went to the Jardin de/u? Luxembourg. I sat for 2 or 3 hours maybe, writing 16 postcards, then when I got too cold, went back to the hotel. There was a special dinner that night for invited speakers at 7. I got ready and waited for B on the corner of Rue Soufflot. Apparently they were all running late, so we ran back into our room so he could drop off some things.
Dinner was at Bouillon Racine, on Rue de Racine off St. Michel. The decor was entirely Art Nouveau, the upper dining room lined with mirrors with pretty, curvy frames. It was a little difficult for me at first, being the only non-philosopher there, and I suddenly felt really stressed. I was shy and intimidated and didn't know how to ask for my seat next to B back. I kept thinking of that Sex and the City episode where Carrie moves to Paris with The Russian and feels completely out of place. But then we rearranged, and I calmed down. The meal was excellent - a cassis aperetif, a bordeaux with dinner, a beautiful beef carpaccio entree with cheese and greens, salmon on a bed of cabbage and mixed veggies as a plat, and a huge creme brulee for dessert. And everyone had good things to say about B and his talk. As we were leaving a French student approached him and asked if they could talk tomorrow. It was very exciting to see B had been such a success.
The next day when I woke, I took my postcards with me, hoping to find an open Post Office. The one near the hotel was, as expected, closed, so I resigned myself to walking back to the Louvre. The 1er Arr, as I got further in, was a little less welcoming than I'd expected. A little desolate and shady, but it was midday, so I wasn't worried. At the post office, the machine wouldn't accept my card, so I went to a window, where the woman spoke to me only in French. I gave her 20 euros, she gave me change, then spoke rapidly while gesturing wildly to my left. I didn't really know what she'd told me, but figured I'd figure it out. I applied 16 stamps, wrote "Par Avion" 16 times, then wandered to what seemed to be a post box. There were a few different labels, including "Paris," "B-something-or-other," and "Etranger." I guessed and dropped everything in the "Etranger" slot. I guess we'll find out if I got it right in a week or so.
From there I crossed back to the left bank and found the Musee D'Orsay, which my sister had told me to see. I had about two hours 'til closing, but figured that was about all I could handle of a museum anyway. I paid 5.50 euros to get in and headed directly to the middle level, Art Nouveau and decorative arts etc. The furniture exhibits were quite astounding, and actually the building itself was pretty incredible. I was surprised they allowed me to keep my bag and my coat, as I'd been to other museums where they worry about you bumping into things. After finishing the middle level, including the Rodin terrace, I did a quick peek into a few rooms on the first level - pre-impressionism Degas and Monet, a couple sculptures of Mercury inventing the Ceduceus, etc etc. And then it was closing time. I walked back to the hotel in a little bit of drizzle. This time I didn't worry too much about being on time, because I knew the conference would run late. B was supposed to meet me in the room, and I hoped to have a nice dinner with the last of our Euros or go for a walk together, maybe even take a cheesy boatride on the Seine.
He came in and said the others were at a braserrie not far away and that they'd requested our presence. Again people had been praising and quoting him during the day, so I agreed. We got down there just as a couple people left. I was starving so we took a small table to the side. I felt bad that I was keeping him from the philosophy group, but he nicely sat and ate with me. His cold was getting worse, and he was exhausted from a long weekend of thinking and networking, so we went back to the hotel. He napped while I added to my letter, then we played a few rounds of hangman and went to bed.
The next morning we planned to wake at 6. I set my phone alarm. We figured we'd be downstairs at 7 to check out, and hopefully be on a train to the airport by 7:15. But my phone alarm either didn't go off or didn't wake us, and I woke and looked at my watch to see it was 7:05. We jumped out of bed, dressed, finished packing, and flew out the door. We paid downstairs, after waiting what seemed an eternity for the credit card to be approved, than booked it for the RER stop. Once again the machines weren't working, and I asked the guy at the window "deux, Charles de Gaulle." We made a 7:40am train, and made it to the airport with what seemed like time to spare. But then the line for AA was unbelievably long, and I guess we weren't the only ones bound for NY who'd been running a little late. They pushed us NY-bound passengers along as fast as they could, and we somehow made it to our gate just as they were boarding our group.
And now we're back. B's cold is worse, but we've gotten some decongestant for him. I'm still coughing, but feel alright otherwise. And it's already just two weeks until the next tests in Orgo and Bio. Where did the time go?
