Things have been quite hectic around here lately! I have had many conflicting emotions, changed my mind about numerous things time and time again, and braved the outside yard where the mad dog roams free.
That’s right, mad. This dog, the family’s 5-year-old Dalmatian, lives outside in the yard. Each morning, someone dumps some food into his bowl, and another bowl sits under the leaky hose, collecting water for him to drink. The only human interaction he gets is when someone exits the house, at which time the kick him repeatedly and yell. He routinely sits on the deck by the kitchen window, staring wistfully inside. The family informed me nonchalantly that he bites. He also jumps all over me, scratching me with his over grown nails, and nipping at my shoes.
Needless to say, this aggressive, neglected animal scares me. “Scares” is too soft of a word. I go outside to open the gate (with an electronic remote control: without it, one cannot exit at all. It just so happens that the one I was given was out of batteries, and for the last week, excluding 2 days, I was not able to leave the house.) Having been bitten twice by dogs before, I retain a little of that fear, especially in the presence of clearly volatile animals such as this one. I even sunk as low as to follow suit and kick it, but it didn’t work. It was more like a nudge with the shoe, but I couldn’t bring myself to do more. Poor, horrible dog.
The cat, on the other hand, is the best cat I have ever met (no offense, Chris, but Paco doesn’t do it for me). It is an uber-fluffy British Long hair, and the most playful, attentive, obedient, loving, beautiful, funny cat I have ever met. Geraldine, Mom, tells me everyone loves Cashmere (which is undoubtedly true, on both counts), even if they prefer dogs. Living here, I most certainly prefer cats.
Anyway, Monday evening I drove for the first time around Chanteloup and Langy (pronounced Lannie, rhymes with Annie). Although the basics were the same, there were poignant differences. Stoplights rarely exist in these maze like streets, and normal intersections number less than circle drives, uneven crossings, and other bizarre layouts. The stoplights are always perched on the right side of the road, about 10-15 meters BEFORE the cross walk. This is by far the hardest thing to get used to. The lights are by the sidewalk, low to the ground, and occur even before I begin to look for them. I think after a few days, however, I shall get used to it. The family says that I can take the car wherever I want. I think that Friday (my free day) I will venture to Val D’Europe: the nearby mall. I simply adore shopping.
Speaking of shopping, you’ll never guess what I did Tuesday. Well, you could probably get it in 2 guesses. I went to Paris! I was so excited that I could barely sleep the night before, which came in handy the next morning when there was no alarm to wake me up. I hitched a ride to Arthur’s school (Pre-School) with Margarette (Maid/ Child Help), and the walked a half mile across the Marne River and over to the train station. I bought a ticked for 5 euro (one way) and, once on the train, I was in Paris in 20 minutes.
I must say, the whole thing was very anticlimactic. I’ve wanted to go to Paris for so long that when I finally got there, I thought, ‘this is it?’ Not that it wasn’t gorgeous (though cloudy), or full of history, class, and culture, because it was. I think that I’ve just read too much about it, heard too much of it’s praise, and dreamt for so long about going that the real thing just didn’t surmount to my expectation. Perhaps it was the missing Love-Of-My-Life at my side that left the City of Love feeling a little barren.
That being said, I laid a long day out for myself. For my first day, I wanted to hit my 3 favorite tourist destinations: le Tour Eiffel, le Arc de Triomphe, and the Seine river. Wanting to avoid using public transportation at all costs, I proposed to walk all the way from the Gare l’Est (east train station) to le Tour Eiffel, crossing the Seine during the process. The Arc is due north of the Tour, so I propositioned to then venture there, and pour fin I would return back to the Gare to go home.
On the map, I saw that the Gare L’est was in the far northeast part of Paris, while the Eiffel Tower was much more south and much more west, where the Seine curves south. Now, I enjoy walking, so this was not a problem. Exiting the Gare L’est with a map, a camera, a dictionary (my best friend these days), and a plan, I set off in a southern direction to encounter the Seine.
The city was very beautiful. There were more coiffures (hair salons) and clothing stores than I had ever seen. The buildings were of traditional French architecture, and exuded age and personality. Trees lined the sidewalks and intersections, while flowers poured from windows, fences, and bushes. Now I know why it rains so much here. How else can you keep this city so green?
I passed the Louvre (a gargantuan mass of buildings), les Halles (Paris’ main outdoor food market), and the Eglise de Sant'Eustache. Finally, after 2 hours, I reached the Seine. It was gorgeous, even on a cloudy day. A multitude of bikers rode the riverside route, and even more walkers did the same. I joined them, watching the boats chug by and the gold posts on the bridges shimmer.
On the other side of the Seine, I passed the Musee D’Orsay, another popular attraction. I then ventured through the narrow streets, in and out of small shops of various specialties, in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. An hour later, I found it (not a difficult task). It was wonderful! There was a mass of tourists standing in line to climb it (a mass I was not about to join), and fully uniformed and fully armed soldiers (think giant machine guns). I walked out into the green area before the tower and snapped some pictures. Then, I turned on my heel: one more stop to go.
Heading north, through a more financial district of the city, I stumbled upon the Champs Élyseés, and the famous circle intersection. It intersects around 12 streets! It was a nightmare to cross, a joy to watch, and all very green and lush at the same time.
Now, I did not realize that the Champs Élyseés was a shopper’s haven. But oh, my oh my, it was a haven. I ate a great sandwich on the road side half way down the street toward the Arc, now visible in the near distance: sautéed zucchini, ham, some kind of cheese, toasted tomato, and a sesame bun. Delicious.
I revisited some of my former haunts in Spain, like Promod, Zara, and Mango. I looked inside Louis Vuitton, as if I intended to buy, which I did not. By the time I reached the Arc, I was exhausted. After snapping some pictures, I realized that I had about and hour to get back to the station. This was not enough time to walk, and I certain could not walk any farther if it was. I caught a bus, hopped on the train, and met Arthur as he got out of school. When we got home, I did my two hours work before the parents got home, and then collapsed from exhaustion.
I’ll get the pictures up tonight or tomorrow. Bon journeé!
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