Paris Day 2

Today I forced myself to go see some other sights, even though it was freezing outside and after yesterday's general sentiments, have no motivation to be reminded what I can't have in Paris. Maybe that's why the first stop I found myself at was the catacombs. I paid my 4 Euros and descended into the depths of Paris. For those of you that don't know, the catacombs are essentially a massive cemetery that extends for kilometres in every direction--right underneath the streets of Paris. You head down into a dimly lit tunnel with musty stone walls and walk about 500 m until you reach the first part. Doing that alone is a little more than unnerving, let me tell you. All the side passages are barred off and dark; it's deathly still (pun intended) for the most part, but every sound you do hear makes you jump a little. It felt like a really well put-on haunted house!
Then I got to the bones. Oh yeah, these aren't nicely laid out tombstones; they are stacks of human bones lining the passageways. To deal with overcrowding in cemeteries during the 18th century, people started getting buried in these passages, since you could shove more bodies together, thus saving space. Pretty morbid, but the organization is impressive--all similarly shaped bones are stacked together, separated by rows of skulls (for support? Who knows, I definitely did not come up with this idea).

After the catacombs, I meandered over to Notre Dame to take a look at some gargoyles. (The last time I was here, I had cut my foot really badly in India just prior, and couldn't walk. All I remember is my mom piggybacking me around Paris, and in particular, up the tower of Notre Dame so I could see the little creatures protruding from the stone facade. Thanks mom!)
It was nice, and in some ways reminded me of Gaudi's work, but traditional--his is warped, versus the classic medieval lines seen here. I could just imagine what it must've been like when this church was the centre of religious life in Paris--it's pretty impressive, the details that went into its construction.
Next stop was the Champs d'Elyses, the world's biggest...roundabout? I'm not sure of the significance, since I refused to pay to go to the top of a tall structure and look out over another city. But I got my photos! And saw some breakdancing in the meantime, so it wasn't a total waste of time.
Lastly, I made my way over to the Piece de Resistance, the Eiffel Tower. Also known as the giant asparagus by non-impressed Parisians, the tower was originally supposed to be covered, but someone quashed that idea and now we have what it looks like today. It's impressive and blah blah blah but I'm gonna go ahead and bet that lying on the grass solo is not as much fun as with your sweetheart. I was getting bored and frozen so I waited just until the tower sparkled at sunset (they do something cool with the lights) and got the heck outta there. One can only stare at a giant asparagus for so long!
Another thing that was disappointing was my quest to cook at Le Cordon Bleu was quashed...I emailed them last week enquiring about a tour or one of the many day classes they offer...but everything was full, for every single day I could possibly be in Paris. I guess it's not meant to be, but still! Frustrating.

So it turns out Paris is not like Carrie's version in Sex and the City. This city is dangling a carrot in front of my nose--I can see what my visit COULD entail, if I was on my honeymoon, or in 15 years when I have a ton of money, spending extravagantly on nice restaurants, shopping, and fancy hotels, but nearing the end of my four month travels, that is not in the cards for BackpackKat. I did not get a suite at the Four Seasons, nor did I gallivant around town wearing a $20,000 dress. No trans-atlantic professions of love. I wore jeans and sneakers. I ate at McDonald's. I saw the sights. And I can't wait to leave.

Tomorrow I am going to MUNICH for Oktoberfest! I'm so excited to see all my german friends, I think there's 25 of us from all over Germany meeting up this weekend? It's gonna be epic. Au revoir, soul-sucking Paris! Time to become German!

Je N'aime Pas Paris

Whoever said Paris is for lovers was correct. What they failed to mention is that it is downright depressing to visit as a party of one. There are couples everywhere. Dinner specials for two. Honeymoon hotel packages. Blech. What's wrong with taking myself to Paris, hmm? I slept for 14 hours in an effort to rid myself of the cold that half of Europe seems to have, but woke up in time for breakfast. After getting yelled at by the French cafeteria lady for taking the wrong tray (apparently there is a big difference between lunch and breakfast, so you'd better get it right!), I got ready to head out for the day--the hostel locks you out of your room from 12-3 pm so they can clean. A little severe to actually have a lockout, but no matter. To the Louvre!
Channeling my inner Robert Langdon outside the Louvre.
I spent 6 hours exploring the vast array of exhibits, and I gotta tell ya...at least for the Egyptian exhibits, it was cooler seeing the same stuff in Cairo. Felt more authentic, if that makes sense. Ew, I sound so snobby. But it's true! And nothing was behind glass there.
Really, France, that's the best you can do?
At the Louvre, though, the Greco-Roman sculptures were outstanding, one of the finest collections I've ever seen.. aside from a security scare that required the evacuation of the entire wing, it was a great way to lose a few hours. The crowds were out in full force but the lines moved quickly. I almost walked right by Venus de Milo until I realized what it was, and then I got in line just like everyone else to ogle the masterpiece.
The Mona Lisa, however, was just a zoo. Totally ruins any attempt to marvel when you're being herded. It's on its own wall, behind thick panes of plexiglass, and it's tiny. I elbowed my way to the front, snapped a few pics, and got the hell out. I'll take lesser-known works any day if it means I can be in a room by myself to ponder. There will be no impending nuptuals to a Grimaldi, a la Gossip Girl. Unlike Blair Waldorf, the closest proposition I got at the Louvre was from the aging security guard who inquired about taking me for coffee (I politely declined). After I exhausted my ability to absorb new artwork for the day, I took a leisurely stroll by the Seine, saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance, then headed to McDonald's for some free wifi to catch up on the blog. Tomorrow I'm debating doing a bike tour of Paris--sounds kind of fun! I've decided against going UP the tower--much better photos with it in the background anyways, and then it's free!

Fake It Til You Make It

Ah yes, the famous casino. I struggled mightily with this dilemma: I want to appear cool, calm, and natural--like I belong inside. But I also need photos in front of the building, cause at the end of the day, I am a tourist (for now...). What to do? In the end, the photos gave precedence and I allowed myself to take a very short few--didn't bother to check the results of whoever I gave my camera to--which resulted in shoddy camera work at best. So I have lots of good photos of the casino itself, but none in focus of me in front. You'll just have to take my word for it that I was there, and I was determined to blend in.
The best of the lot. I'll just have to pop down to the Beacon Hall parking lot when I get home to work some photoshop magic--thanks in advance for the use of your car, Mr. Iwai! (kidding, of course)
Entry to the casino floor is 10 Euros, so I quickly paid and handed my technology over to coat check--no cameras, phones, or iPads allowed inside. Very exclusive. I was happy because a) it's coat check in Monte Carlo, I'm pretty sure that means my stuff will be safe, and b) this necessarily removed all airs of tourist from my person. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Walking into a place like that alone is very intimidating, I'm not going to lie to you. Especially when you've never been to a casino before. The gilded ceilings, the dealers in tuxedos at the tables beckoning you over, the slots hidden at the back like a reluctant afterthought (for the tourists, I'm sure--no yacht owner would be caught dead pumping euro coins into a machine that lights up, how plebeian). It's a lesson in creating self-confidence even when you don't have any, that's for sure. I did a few rounds to familiarize myself with the layout and was going to get a drink, but then I saw the prices and almost died. When a beverage costs more than the entry (they started at 16 Euros for a glass of wine, I believe), it's probably a good idea to pass.

The tables are laid out in a circle facing outwards, and there are about eight chairs around each. You can play roulette, blackjack, or something else I didn't know. There's velvet ropes separating the players from the observers. I was happy to remain behind the rope, but reminded myself I didn't come here to watch like the rest of the tourists. That doesn't count as going to the casino! So if I'm going to do something, I'd better not half-ass it. Not having a clue how to play, I found myself at the roulette table.

Roulette is an interesting game because there's no skill involved; the ball drops completely randomly each and every time. Yet people can't help but look for patterns--the house posts the last ten numbers, even though it doesn't matter at all. I deciphered that you can bet on red or black, odd or even, manqué or passé (under or over 18), a single number, or combinations. Colors seemed like a good place to start--you don't win a huge amount, but you have aa 50/50 shot at doubling your money, so I changed 20 Euros and got to work.

The dealers were really helpful--they explained the basics of the game, and they kept giving me free 24-Euro glasses of champagne and chocolate marzipan (it was a gamble itself on whether I would have to pay, but I figured I'd take my chances. Good call, Katy). Apparently I'm a high-roller. I went with it. I think they were trying to keep me at the table; the crowd seemed to follow whichever table I sat at. NO idea why--it's not like I was gambling thousands on number 11, unlike SOME people at the table...(it's amazing to see the volume of money that changes hands so quickly. I saw a guy lose 20 thousand euros on a single play, and then win 50 the next) On second thought, maybe they were actually following him around...that still doesn't explain the free champagne though--oh well, I'm not complaining.
Me doing my best to blend in...the free champagne tells me I did alright!
There are really eccentric characters that come to the Monte Carlo casino. I sat beside an octogenarian named Marcel who would gamble his chips "pour vous"; an aged Asian lady named Tata who brought me quiche and Monaco's answer to pizza, because she didn't want me having champagne on an empty stomach; an Italian with a blue sport coat Robert Herjavec would die to wear, who insisted on betting my birthday (which turned out to be a bad idea, he lost quite a lot--sorry about that!)

It was really fun to have a seat at the table, even though I was making tiny bets (the minimum was 5 Euros). I could see all the tourists in their clothes brought specifically for this night, failing miserably to blend in. Have a little respect for this institution! If I can manage to fit in at the casino while backpacking the world, there's no excuse for your sneakers. It reminds me of when I go to the ballet--you don't HAVE to dress up to go, if you buy a ticket they'll let you in with jeans on, but it's traditional! Put on the damn suit.

Someone told me you should never gamble with money you can't stand to lose, so once I doubled my money, I put 20 Euros worth of chips away so that I would at least walk away breaking even. Smart move. I was all the way up to 100 Euros in profit, but I kept playing and lost it all except an extra 20, so I decided to call it a night while I still had money and headed home. My first night at the casino was a success. I can't wait to go back there when I have millions of my own money to play with! I'll always remember getting my James Bond on in Monte Carlo. Even if I didn't meet any royalty (or maybe I did and just didn't know it--in Monaco, you never know!)

Nice is Nice

Could I really title this any other way? We all know how much I love bad jokes.
This morning I slept in after that lengthy journey along the Mediterranean, and tried to say hello to my bunkmates only to discover Barcelona has stolen my voice.
Port of Nice
I took advantage of the free breakfast (seriously I need to stop writing about this, it's just a given at this point), got going early afternoon and headed down to the port. I saw more yachts than minivans in a Walmart parking lot. Got offered no less than 3 jobs aboard. The offers were definitely too good to be true--I suspect the uniform is a bikini and sunglasses. At most. Thanks, Octopussy, but I'm going to have to pass. (Really, that's the name of his boat. Parked right next to "Just For You, Love Douglas." Classy.) Really tempted to ask them what they do in order to have a yacht; I figure there's three possibilities: something risky, something illegal, or both. Either way is fascinating, but I don't fancy involuntarily becoming a part of a drug cartel's harem. Saw a wedding--everyone in attendance was good looking. Confirmed my suspicions about the French Riviera being a magical place that I need to live in. I found Narnia! Just kidding. But seriously.

Nice is a cool town because it has both the sophistication and culture I love about a lot of cities, yet it has that laid-back vibe that you need once in a while. Looking into cooking schools here immediately--if they have a good one, I'm sold. Met up with the Aussies from Darwin at my hostel for happy hour (dolla beers!) Then went downtown to Wayne's, the most popular bar in Nice. Full of foreigners (and Snoop Dogg, who apparently has partied at Wayne's too) including a Contiki tour group. I'm so glad I decided not to do one of those--apparently you spend all your time traveling and only stop at sights for like 5 minutes before you're herded back on the bus. Can you imagine being stuck on a bus with a group of people you hate, going all over Europe? They did look like they were having a good time, though; there was a lot of dancing on tables. After establishing that Sarah Palin is not the only one with geographical troubles (Apparently there are some Aussies who think Alaska is part of Canada), we split from Wayne's and walked along the coast to Ma Nolan's to check out the Irish offerings in France. It was very chill--they played some great Kings of Leon tracks. I had to leave at 1:30 to make the last tram home. So glad to be back on a normal night schedule, you have no idea--maybe my voice will come back now.

Musings on Monaco

Today I took the short 20 minute train ride from Nice to Monaco. It was the main reason I came all the way down here so I had high expectations! I got to the port around 4 pm and walked along the shore. I saw so many rich (Euro) stereotypes. Long hair, tennis racket, old dudes with women half their age (although all the plastic surgery says otherwise), triple decker yachts, Rolls Royces parked in a row at the casino. Monte Carlo has one of the highest prices of real estate per square foot in the world-I can only imagine what a one bedroom would cost here. There are tourists everywhere, so naturally I refuse to walk with my camera blatantly visible in an effort to look local. After all, I didn't come to Monaco to look Canadian!