Fall Break: Paris Day 3

On Sunday, I woke to Mr. Araj doing situps in his hostel bed. Julien and I decided to go to the Montmartre area, where we visited the Sacré-Coeur Basilica. Julien invited Mr. Araj, who kept us entertained throughout the day. We killed time in Montmartre waiting for my friend from GT Lorraine, Ryan. The basilica lies at the top of a steep hill, while Montmartre lies just below, also on inclined terrain. The area has some beautiful old buildings, but some of the streets are packed to the brims with tourists. One such street had a three-card monte game set up every 25 feet. The dealers talked quickly and enthusiastically in English, while every so often their planted partner acting as a tourist would interject, betting and winning large sums of money. We took some pictures at the foot of the hill in front of the Basilica, and made our way up, carefully stepping past arrays of knockoff bags and minature Eiffel towers spread out on the paths. Completed in 1914, the basilica lacks the history of most churches, but is a beautiful building with an impressive view. We toured inside briefly, then took a side street down the hill into the Pigalle area. Mr. Araj posed pictures in front of the Moulin Rouge and various sex shops which he found endlessly entertaining. Julien threatened to send the pictures back to Iran - "Nooo" said Mr. Araj.

Montmartre

Basilique de Sacré Coeur

Ryan guided us to Place de la Concorde, in search of the Arc de Triomphe. The Concorde area is a tourist's dream. In every direction, a different monument is visible. We walked from the Obelisque to the Grand Palais, a museum in a former palace. There was an exhibition ending that Sunday, and lines wrapped around the block, but the Petit Palais across the street had no line, and our group of four entered for free. There was a small, but impressive permanent collection, while the courtyard of the palace was beautiful as well. The three others didn't seem to have the patience for art, so we left. Ryan headed for the Arc de Triomphe, while the rest of us crossed the Seine to the Esplanade des Invalides, a promenade and road. The well-maintained grassy areas surrounding the road were occupied by soccer games. I made a mental note to return on a Sunday with my cleats. In front of us lay Les Invalides. The building looks like a palace, but was made to house wounded war vets in the 1600's under Louis XIV. Napoleon was buried there (after several previous burials and relocations) in a large, but simplistic sarcophagus. Legend has it that the tomb was designed to force visitors to bow to Napoleon's grave, however, when Hitler visited, he was led directly underground to avoid bowing.

Part of Les Invalides

Napoleon's Tomb

Also in the complex is a beautiful church. Napoleon's Tomb is on the opposite side of the glass behind the altar.

Satisfied with our visit, we made our way to the Eiffel Tower. I was reluctant to go, but the other two were deadset. They posed, took some pictures, and bought some souvenirs. Mr. Araj bought a cotton candy - a priceless picture, if only I had taken it. We moved across the Seine to the Trocadero, a complex I know only because of its proximity to and great views of the tower. Julien and Mr. Araj tried to fill their memory cards while I watched a group of freestyle bike riders doing tricks on the Trocadero steps. I shot some video but it was too dark to make out much.

I told Julien and Mr. Araj about the good and cheap restaurant I had found two nights previous and they were sold. Back to Butte Aux Cailles, near our hostel, we went, trying to retrace my steps. Even Mr. Araj ragged on me as I tried to find the restaurant "Oh Mr. Greg, thank you I'm so full." We found it, but went next door for a beer. Mr Araj, a muslim, declined, but did indulge in the free drinks we were given by the restaurant proprietor who exclaimed "Le gooner" recalling the Arsenal Gunners jersey i had worn on my first visit. Mr. Araj drained his rose then ordered another. Soon after he was quite drunk and even more entertaining then ever. Julien teased him about the Moulin Rouge and finding a French girl. Mr. Araj expressed his intentions quite clearly and explicitly in english. I said "First you must learn English so you can talk nicely to women." He said "Yes, yes." and seemed to understand my point, but then blurted out "I want to the sex." The meal was good and cheap as I had advertised, and we returned to the hostel in good spirits, especially Mr. Araj.

Julien in front of Tour Eiffel