Day 14: Bon Jour Paris

It was still so dark when we departed that the popping of my ears was the only sign we had entered the Chunnel. Only after emerging and racing across the French countryside for a bit did a rolling pastoral patchwork of fields slowly appear in the morning light. Thin wefts of mist lay in the hollows, and occasionally a farm or church would flash past. Then suddenly the bucolic landscape became city, and we were pulling in to Gare du Nord station. We had arrived in Paris.


  As we shouldered our bags and headed toward our hotel Greg started quizzing me about the Marais district where it was situated. He gave me a dubious look when I told him that the Marais was home to the Parisian gay neighborhood. I had to admit the street we were trudging down looked a little run down and sad, but I was reserving judgement until we were able to see a bit more of the city. We almost missed our hotel the Hotel Jardin du Marais which was actually a collection of buildings situated around a narrow courtyard. The room was tiny (of course) but nicely decorated. We quickly stashed our bag, and grabbed breakfast, or petit déjeuner, and began our Parisian adventure in earnest.


 Wandering through narrow streets toward Notre Dame we had the happy realization that our hotel was indeed located on the northern edge of the city's gayborhood. We made our way down it's narrow streets filled with men's clothing stores, grooming boutiques, and sidewalk cafes filled with handsome and stylish men; eventually finding ourselves on the bank of  the Seine. A bridge took us to the small island, Île Saint-Louis, and then another bridge led us to the larger Île de la Cité where Notre Dame sits. We slowly walked around the gothic wonder joining the other tourists in the plaza situated in front of the cathedral.

  Greg noticed that a tour bus company had it's main hub at the end of the plaza, and proposed that we get a two day pass to use as our transportation around the city. This turned out to be a brilliant idea. As the temperature steadily climbed to the high 70's we rode comfortably around the city enjoying the sights, and hopping off occasionally to get a closer look.  We made our way by the Louvre and Tulleries, and then up Champs-Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe. After circling around the Arc we headed back toward the Seine past the Tracadero and finally the Eiffel tower where we lingered to take in the massive structure.

  For a beautiful afternoon the lines to Tour Eiffel were unexpectedly short, and we took advantage of this opportunity. As I waited on the second platform for Greg to return from the top I amused myself by imagining an allegorical painting like those I had recently seen in British museums. In this painting London and Paris are depicted in human form having a mid-day meal. London is a prim and stately beauty sipping tea with a outstretched finger. Her head is cocked and eyebrow slightly raised in disapproval of her dining companion. Paris is a swarthy lothario slouching in his chair. He stares seductively over his glass of wine not at London, but at the painting's observer.



Day 14 Photostream

Day 4: Mind the Gap

  "Mind the gap."

  The warning that had become a familiar sound broke my reverie. I had been distracting myself by recounting the days events in my mind. Now that I had been so cruelly interrupted, however; I was all too aware of my surroundings. Even on a mild September evening the London tube felt like a boiler room. Sweat was trickling down my back, and I was sure my hair was sticking straight up like some deranged cockatoo. As I waited impatiently for the next train I returned to my musings.

  Sylvia and Steve had decided to stay home, and so it seemed the perfect opportunity for Greg and I to spend some quality time together. In short we got our shop on. First stop: Harrods, the shopping monolith. Yeah, you know it was way too expensive, but tons of super yummy designer clothes and shoes. We divined some trends right off the bat: fur, plaid, and old English hunting togs rebooted. We carefully made mental notes, and spent the rest of the day shopping on Regent's street for less pricey alternatives. We made a pact to pass any store that sold clothing we could get State-side. No Hilfiger, no Guess, and definitely no Gap. We didn't buy any thing that day, but you can bet our bags will be heavier when we return home.

  After returning to Paddington and conferring with our traveling companions we all went to dinner at The Gay Hussar, a Hungarian restaurant that has been in operation since 1953. It is a really small establishment with just enough room for a row of tables on either side of a runway for the waiter. On one side of the restaurant caricatures of famous politicians who have dined there hang above dark coffered wainscoting. On the other side mirrors reflect their images. It is a nice white tablecloth restaurant that serves the kind of delicious food my imaginary Hungarian grandmama used to make. Both Steve and I had the wild cherry soup as a starter and, as our eyes met, we both knew we were all in for a treat. Yummy dishes with flavors of dill and paprika. Can you tell I loved it? We will most likely return again before our holiday is over.

  After all that food Greg and I decided it would be nice to take a stroll around Soho. The evening in London's gay district had a Mardi Gras atmosphere. Music blared from overflowing clubs and pubs as we walked down streets filled with boozy British revelers. One venture inside a gay pub quickly convinced us that, even if we liked being packed into a bar like sardines, we would never get a drink. A short walk led us back to the tube station where the recorded announcement was once again reminding us to:

  "Mind the gap."

Day 4 Photostream