Wednesday - Paris to London!

We're counting down... Today is the 30th! That means we are home after a very long July 1st. We'll get our 7 hours back - and we'll get home about 6:30pm your time on the 1st!!! (That's tmw - or perhaps even "today" by your reading). We can't wait to see family, friends, and puppies again. We're sure they all think we're gone forever.

We started the morning by taking the B train down to the deaf school again... Its an adventure, who needs catacombs with tunnels like these? Left, right, up, down... And then over this 2 block long moving sidewalk, then over and down.. And the train is always like a sauna, oppressively hot, and cram packed with people. Maybe the french wear so much perfume to cover *other* people's stench. If you enter any enclosed space it either smells like pee or sweat (or a lovely bouquet of both), or like perfume masking pee or sweat.

We have a *very* nice tour of the school - we learn a lot of history that we didn't know or forgot. We saw much more of the school than we expected to see after our "no tours" conversation yesterday. It was a full and formal tour, but our guide spoke very little English. She conducted the tour in spoken French, and LSQ sign language (at our request) - there are similarities with the languages, and its visual, so we get *some* of what is being said, the major points. Its just us and two other women from Winnipeg Canada, so an intimate group. One was an interpreter (used ASL, and spoke English as a first language) - and her friend was French, possibly from France and not Canada. Sometimes the French woman would translate to English for her friend when she didn't get the French or the signs... So we benefited from that too. I videotaped a lot of it and Dana took tons of pictures at my request. :)

The grounds are beautiful, a lovely courtyard with a flower garden, and the fountain that you see in the movie about the "wild boy" that Itard taught. The movie was filmed here, and its actually where the wild boy lived. There are beehives, kept bees, on the grounds, great hands on project for the students. They have dorms, of course, their own little hospital, and there is an old kiln that in the past was used to make pottery - but now is preserved under glass. Also there was a pool in the gym, and similar to the old jim at Gallaudet, it was filled in and built over.

We saw the library, filled with old books and a display of artifacts like school uniforms, notebooks from past students, and original writings by l'Eppe. There is a sculpture proudly displayed that was made by a deaf artist.

(Now all you "hearing people can skip this part)... We learned about Berthier, the first deaf teacher at the school (back in the 1800s). Learned their signs for Abbe de l'Eppe (hungry+sword flourish), Sicard (shaky A), Itard (Y at the mouth), Berthier (Pittsburgh), Jean Mark Jacque (??) (A at mouth), and they used the same signs for Clerc, Gallaudet, and "deaf"...We caught their signs for Paris (just a P in the palm like "butter"), blind (like our blind, but the same handshape on the chin also), professor (polite), student/pupil (point to the eye), infirmary (draw a cross on the forehead with your thumb), doctor (open 8 hand touches the chest like board), France (open 8 hand in the air like "blank"), hearing (P circles like "government" but lands in the ear)...

After the Milan Conference of 1888, the school used the oral method, but used the arm for sounds - they touched in specific places up and down the arm for different sounds. L'Eppe fought to keep the school only for Deaf students and not to be combined with Blind students - because of different needsThere is a painting after the Milan conference, its of the institute and it portrays a visit by the French President of the time, and they seem to be showing the President how they're teaching the oral method - but a subliminal message encoded. The oral method is being shown to the President, but two pupils are signing to each other, and the window opens and sheds light on them - the rest are in shadows. It was just a fabulous time - worth the whole trip to Paris and every sweaty train ride.

On our high from the school, we head back to the Louvre to see if we can find Patti's artist that drew the elephant turning into the Eiffel Tower - and he's there, and he has one left! Success!We have lunch at a place right on a corner across from the Louvre - I do love that building... Nice view if you can get it. We have french eggs for lunch.. Patti and Dana have ham and cheese omelettes (omlette is french), and I had an interesting dish that was very good, and I think I can recreate. It starts as just a grilled ham and swiss sandwich, but then on the top is melted white cheese (thick and bubbly), topped with sliced tomato, and on top of that, an egg sunny side up. Yum. I feel like we finally had something that we won't find at home. On the walk back to the apt, Dana gets one of the nutella crepes she's been craving. They make the crepe right there, then spread out the nutella so its nice and melty, and then fold it until it looks kind of like an ice cream cone. We go back to the apt to pack - and then down to the train station to catch the chunnel. We used the last of our 10 pack this morning to go to the school again, but just thought we'd pick one up at the station. Wrong. No tickets sold at this entrance - of course not at this entrance. So instead of hauling the bags back up and over, Patti volunteers to go alone on an expedition and get 3 tickets a few blocks down. We get through the gates ok - that's kind of a lottery system too. We've been stuck more than once.

We grab the train and have another sweaty train ride to the train station - it feels like 90 with no breeze. We are literally dripping sweat. We go through customs, and they always ask you little things to test you, they asked Patti when her flight was (I'm glad they didn't ask me that) - but I put "instructor" on the form for occupation, and the agent had a thick British accent and asked, "What do you instruct?". It threw me off, I've never heard it like that... What? "What do you instruct? It says you're an instructor..". Ooooh....and I explain. We get our France stamp in our passport, and find some AC in the waiting room- aaaahhhh.. Civilization. The train is nice - AC, carpeting.. But the chunnel is pretty anticlimactic. Its just a dark tunnel for a long time. I was hoping to see a cool glass tunnel with fish swimming by or something. Oh well.

Our train ends at Pancras (which we call pancreas) - which is in the same terminal as Kings Cross and we decide we're going to give the Harry Potter 9 and 3/4 station another go - we're here already... After a little exploring, and wading through TONS of people - there were announcements about trains being stuck on the tracks and other trains were cancelled or delayed - it was a crazy time! But we found it!! It was literally right under our noses the last time we went - but its actually right off of platform 8, not 9.... And others that found it also made the same comments. Its not EIGHT and 3/4. We posed with our compulsory pics of us pushing the cart through the platform, and head back. Because of the crowds and Dana's complete lack of interest in anything Harry Potter, she stayed behind with the bags so we could search without having to pull our bags through the crowds.

Now a very long tube ride to Hounslow... And we are beat! We have a quick fish and chips and Balmers (pear and apple beer! Yumm! We wonder if we can find it in the states?)... And head back to the hotel. Its just a Days Inn, but its luxury to us. AC so cold, *I'm* actually chilly, comfy beds with thick feather comforter, internet, English speaking tv... We don't know what to do with ourselves. We have two rooms because the rooms just come in "doubles" and that means two people, they don't have rooms with two double beds, they have two twin beds. So Dana and I are in one room and Patti and Amy are in the other. For a while we couldn't figure out how to get the lights to turn on - you have to leave a key card in this card slot near the light switch in order for anything to work. Its really smart, because if you leave, you take your key with you and it ensures that you don't leave any lights on and waste energy. The shower is twice the size of any shower we've had on the trip - but it's weird because it's open at one end. it looks like a sliding glass door, but it isn't. That door doesn't move.

Its late here and we're going to bed - Amy is getting in soon, and the four of us fly out to Newark at 12 tmw (but we have to be there 3 hours early) - so we have a full English breakfast on the schedule for tmw, and then HOME! By the time we land it will be 6:30pm, but that's 1:30am by time that we've shifted to - we'll see if we catch some winks on the plane. Oh, and enjoy this... one last giggle at the British signs... its your refuge from the "disabled".

NIGHT ALL!! See you soon!

Scavenger Hunt Day in Paris

Tuesday was our metro day. We bought 10 tickets for the metro and we had a tentative list of things we wanted to find - the school for the Deaf, catacombs, Moulin Rouge, Statue of Liberty copy, maybe Jim Morrison's grave... And creme brulee.

Scavenger Hunt day... Metro to the Abbe de 'l Eppe stop (they have a street named after him) and Deaf School (I can never remember the French name, but its INJS....Institut National de Jeunes Sourds) We find it! And go into the office - they speak only French, but we try sign, and it kinda worked. We got that the person who does tours went to lunch, and we could either wait, or also go eat lunch and come back. We see the statue of Eppe, and kids signing through the gate and hope we get to see more.

We have lunch right across the street, and we find that a boiled egg with mayonnaise is a standard as an appetizer on every menu we've seen. We're tempted, but don't bite. Djon mustard is on every table... Its good, but not a staple.

We try to order something French - I guess salads and sandwiches are French because we see a lot of them too. I go for the skirt steak and whipped potatoes with cheese (I think it was an equal blend of both) - and the steak is ok, but just meat, not really seasoned. Dana gets the same, but with fries (FRENCH fries) and Patti gets something that we all think sounds interesting, ground flank steak with egg. So we're expecting some kind of egg/steak skillet scramble or something. But when it comes out, it looks like a hamburger. Ahhh... The egg is the binding agent in the burger. Its just a BURGER - and it tastes exactly like my steak - in need of some seasoning.

We head back over to the school and there is a different lady at the front desk. We figure that she wasn't telling us that the lady who does tours was on lunch - the regular receptionist was on lunch. We talk to her, and she says in very clear English that "I don't speak any English"... So we sign again. She says no tours. Dang! But there was a name of someone on the website that said to contact about tours - I had done so twice - but had no response, so I show her the email address of the woman I contacted, and she picks up the phone.

She talks in French, but signs to us, "Tomorrow morning, 10 (held up all 10 fingers)" - we got it! Awesome! So we're going to get a tour after all! We're stoked.

On with the scavenger hunt - we head a couple of stops south to the catacombs. I thought it would be cool to see the underground graveyard (and would literally be "cool" since its underground). We find it, but the line is very long, maybe a 2 hour wait at least. We're not up for it. Too hot, too long, we have other things to find.

Next stop, Moulin Rouge - we walk out of the metro stop and its just right there! We don't go in - I didn't realize that they had matinees until later. We just took some pics outside. We cooled off at Starbucks - that place knows how to keep a place cool - and then we walk a couple of blocks down to a different metro stop for the train to take us to the Musee Rodin.

The Rodin Museum is where the Thinker is, also "The Kiss", and these hands that I love (love, love, love) - but don't know the name of. If I ever have a mind to by a piece of art to display, it will be these hands. The gardens there are also beautiful. Throughout Paris they trim their trees so that they grow in squares, the tops of the trees look as square as a hedge row. We saw some of the workers trimming them yesterday - up in a cherry picker just whacking at them.

Back on the metro and we take it over to the bridge where the Statue of Liberty is. Its not the easiest place to get to by metro - we hike quite a ways to the bridge and then of course stairs down to it. Its interesting that it faces its much larger sister statue (this one is only 35 ft tall) in New York. On this trip I saw them both.

Back up the stairs, across the bridge, and back to another metro stop. Patti heads back to the apt - her heel spurs are not happy with her and we have hiked a lot between sweaty metro rides... Dana and I get off at the Concorde Place to walk through the Jardins at the Louvre. The Place Concorde is where the guillotine was placed during the French Revolution. At the time they had just torn down a statue of Louis XIV - and now an obelisk is in its place. The whole plaza is immense - I try to imagine it full of screaming people.

We walk up through the palace gardens (Jardin des Tuileries) - it looks like you like palace gardens might - the same square trees in formation, sculptures, fountains - it looks like they use it like their version of Central Park. There are green folding chairs everywhere that are actually pretty comfortable. Dana and I sit for a spell in the shade, next to a statue of an odd shaped woman. We think her head is too small.

We head up toward the Louvre, and then hit a store so Dana can get a Tour de France shirt for her baby brother (who isn't a baby). Dana laughs at me because when I ask for the shirts I say "Tour de Force" - hmmm. I know I didn't just make that up, and its not from Star Wars...

Time for dinner - Patti was going to grab something on the way back... We check out lots of cafe's on the way and we find the same thing on all of them - sandwiches, salads, steak and fries, boiled egg with mayo... We understand now what Amy meant by being tired of chewing. We're tired of eating out, making decisions, paying too much for the food lottery (never know what you're going to get). We're walking and talking about food, and the people in front of us turn to ask if we're looking for a place. They have had the same experience - they went to someplace last night where they paid 35 Euro each and got a bad plate of pasta. Yikes - lost the food lottery. BUT they found a really good place just a couple of blocks away - and its reasonable. We go - we actually find it... And they have a nice variety of salads, sandwiches, steaks... Same stuff. I'm about to give in and go in and Dana says, "what looks appetizing, what would you order?".... Nothing. Ugh. She's right.

We're almost back to the apt by now and we just decide to go to McDonalds again - and this time I'm looking forward to it. We know, we know... Eeew. But its cheap, its COOL, they have ice, and we know what we're getting. Except that I get a sandwich we don't have in the states. So see, I had French food. They have these new tech ordering stations there, like touch screen ATMs - its helps with the language barrier. You just click on what you want, pay with your card, your order gets sent to the kitchen, and you pick it up at the window. Couldn't be easier.

We eat there and cool off, no rush to get back to the apt. We stop by a grocery store on the way back hoping to find some pastries for the morning. We don't - that's another thing we expected to see and have not, little pastry shops. We saw one on nearly every block in Germany - but in Paris, the home of the tarte and the eclair... Nothing. We do find something that gets our attention - a kiddie jar full of Djon mustard. Its the kind of thing we got as kids with the jelly jars - you know, jelly, a favorite of the kids... But a kiddy glass of mustard? There is a cow on it having a picnic with his "Lait and moutarde" (who you callin a moutarde? becomes our giggling catch phrase) ... Dana and I each bought one. :)

When we get back to the apt, we learn that Patti had McDonalds too. Great minds...

Wednesday we leave for London - and its cool that we get to take the chunnel and go under the ocean (or through it?). We have the morning in Paris, and our tour of the Deaf school at 10!

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First Full Day in Paris

I'm getting later and later with these blogs as we go along... but yesterday was a 12 hour day for us and when we got back, all I could do was hit the sack.

So this is for Monday, June 28th: Our first full day in Paris, and we're starting fresh and trying to give Paris a chance. I think that because we're tired, it's our last city, and we were so instantly awed by the other cities, that Paris just suffers by comparison. First (and lasting) impressions are that it's really dirty, and it's full of French people.

It was on our way to the Louvre, our first stop this morning, that I nearly got into a fight with a French man... We almost had our international incident and Amy wasn't even with us! We were walking, and man was right on my heals, obviously trying to find a way to pass me. I just stepped in line behind Patti, and made a motion like "after you" (which I didn't think was anything but polite)... He shoots me a look like I shot his dog, mutters in French as he walks ahead of us. I say, "I was only trying to let you pass" - and he talks to himself in French, but I pick up the "parlay Francais" out of all of that and I can tell he's disgusted with me for not speaking French. I say back, "No I don't speak French, but I understood that" (not really too him, more to Patti, but within his hearing) - and he turns around and looks, almost impressed, but with "you've got to be kidding me" look. I say to Patti, "I'm going to get beat up in French"... He laughs and turns back to us, "Oui". Dana says she's not sure why he needed around us, he had friends still behind us. Oh well, I just thought it was kinda cool to have a conversation we both understood in two different languages, and he seemed slightly charmed by the end.

We look for breakfast on the way but none of the restaurants are open, and there are no hours posted. We tried to go in one and just got the French dirty look in response - we're just supposd to know that they're not open. They had what looked like breakfast on the menu, so we thought we were safe, and it wasn't the crack of dawn, it was about 9:30.... So we opt for the breakfast on the run at a little stand - I had a small quiche, Dana and Patti had donuts, Dana's had a surprise chocolate filling. We make a note that we need to try the pastries before we go.

We finally find the Louvre - although its not really labeled (and we left the map at the apt, darnn it). Its funny because every corner has signs pointing to landmarks and the Louvre isn't on any of them. We see this large building that stretches on for blocks and opens to a courtyard - its gorgeous and massive. Very palatial as Patti says... I was going with the more laymn term "palacy" - but we'll go with palatial, and we know that has to be it. We try to imagine why starving French people would have a problem with just 2 rich French people living inside of it. Hmmmm.

From the courtyard we see the pyramid! Its much bigger in person than on The DaVinci code. As we walk toward it, I get approached by a guy that wants signatures for "peace for Africa" ....wondering how signatures help and I'm not a registered voter here, and ok, just sign? Sure.... I want peace for Africa. Oh and then the last part is how much you will give to the peace - most people give 10-20 Euro.. Ahh, of course they do. I gave him my change, maybe less than a Euro and said every little bit helps. We take our pics with the pyramid and the fountains, and head in through the pyramid.

We were afraid of encountering Vatican sized lines, but they were not bad at all. The lines to the bathroom were longer. While we're in line I notice that the beverage that I put in my bag while we took our pictures wasn't closed completely - as a result, the bottom of the purse is wet.. Electronics seem fine, it wasn't that bad, it was almost empty and damage seems minimal. Really happy it wasn't a suger drink. Then, we're in line for the bathroom and Dana looks down and sees this huge mass of orange across my white shirt... WHAT is that?? She had noticed orange drops on the floor when we were in line for tickets. I'm thinking it was on the ropes that I leaned against, maybe kool aid or something - then we notice a big orange wet spot on my purse!! My mind immediately goes to this stupid orange marker that I picked up somewhere (someone had left at a subway stop or something) and I thought we mights have use for it, but the color was too light for postcards. I nearly threw it away in Heidelberg, but didn't. And now, I knew that the orange marker combined with the diet coke in the bottom of my purse to make a lovely orange stripe. I think about how many factors had to come together for this event to happen... finding the pen, actually deciding to pick it up, deciding to keep it after almost getting rid of it in Germany, deciding to put the bottle in my purse instead of in the bottle holder, not closely it completely.... But the fates don't know who they're messing with - I am master stain remover, and I emerge from the bathroom with no visible signs of orange to Patti and Dana's awe and amazement (whew!).

We make quick work of the Louvre. Art majors could spend weeks there; and if we had more time, a tour would be incredibly educational - but for our purposes at this time, we want to see the Mona Lisa, and the Venice De Milo. On the way to the Mona Lisa we pass hundreds of brilliantly colored paintings, and one that a crowd is gathered around (its the one with the "clues" from The Da Vinci Code - The Madonna of the Rocks). We head into the room with the Mona Lisa, and the painting is smaller than you might think, enclosed in several layers of sealed glass, behind ropes, and surrounded by hundreds of people. We get our look, and Dana fights her way into the front - she's getting good at that.

We go down to the hall with Venus - and on the way we see quite a few familiar figures (Nike, The Three Graces...).

We also figure out that the cool air comes up through these tiny gold vents. Its steamy in the halls, and standing on those vents is very refreshing. Once I was standing on one, and this Japanese woman walk to my right and felt the air, she exclaimed, and then stepped back to share the vent with me and we also shared a laugh.

After the Louvre we wanted to take advantge of our hop-on/hop-off bus - and we knew that there was stop right outside the Louvre. Patti saw this cool art on the street that she wishes she would have purchased at the time - its an elephant that morphs in the Eiffel Tower. I think Dana has pictures of it, so it will turn up sooner or later (looks like sooner).

We decide to just ride the bus all the way around - it's pretty cool how they have it set up, they have 9 different languages available, and each seat has two headphone jacks and a channel/volume control. It's just like an airline where you would plug in and then select your channel. We saw the major spots like Notre Dame, Arc de Triumphe, Champs Elysees... Patti said, "well now I can say that I've been on the Champ De le-essey... or something" - I would like to point out that she HAS been on it... but she can NOT say it. This French stuff is hard, no wonder all these people are so snooty about mastering it. I prefer to just speak English and be laughed at than to attempt to speak French and be gafawed at. Just my philosophy of survival here.

We get off the bus at the stop before the Eiffel Tower and get a great view! We check out the menus for lunch, looking for something that screams "french" food, and all we see are salads and sandwiches, and then snails and creme brulee... we settle for a place and we order snails for a starter (yes, Dana ate one) and then we see these huge lush salads at other tables, and decide we'll try french salads (although not a drop of French dressing is in sight - ha). They're good - they're salads (but not as good as the Murphy salad buffet). We order a fruit tart for dessert, expecting something red - like strawberries or raspberries... but it's apple. It's alright. The best part is that Patti orders two cokes (no free refills here), and that will be 10.90 please. So for two small glass bottles of coke, it's over $12. Coke must be a limited commodity here, it costs more than wine or beer. Our waiter is unimpressed with his life and therefore, us, or anyone else for that matter. He rolls his eyes at every request... and that is not unique to him, we find it to be standard with French service, the attitude is thrown in at no extra charge. We just consider it part of the floor show.

We decide to go for a second round on the bus, and this time we get off at all the stops that interest us - we do some shopping, we go in Notre Dame, we stop at the Arc D'Triumph and we cross over to it... We were standing there watching the traffic make it way around the circle surroundng the Arc - there are no lines, no traffic signals, and about 9 streets that let into and out of the circle, like spokes on a wheel. How we did not see an accident, I don't know. We knew there was no way we were risking crossing it - we said, "there should be an underground passage to get there" (and we turn around.. and there WAS). So we go over, get some pics... and we head to the Eiffel Tower.

We don't go up until 9:00, so we have about an hour to kill. We just hang out under the structure and admire it, and fend off swarms of venders trying to sell us every size of Eiffel Tower for only 1 Euro... even ones that light up... or you don't like that, how about a scarf, or a wind up flying bird.. or a rose? We watch them approach others and enjoy seeing that play out. The men with roses go up to women who are with men and just hand them a rose, they let them walk off thinking that the rose was free, and then they chase them down and talk to the man about buying the rose for her. She never wants it and tries to give it back, the guy feels the guilt, tells her to keep it and he pays... we're coaching from the sides as we give a play by play, "oh here he goes, and she doesn't want it... just drop it, just drop it and walk away!" One guy follows our advice, he just keeps walking and sets it by a woman who is sitting close to us.

We decide to get in line, and through this entire trip, in every country and city that we've been in, we have noticed a distinct lack of line rules in their culture. In their rules, if you get to the front first, then that is who deserved to be first, if you have line jumping skills, then that's your right - if we didn't want them in front of us then we should have also lined jumped... it's pretty frustrating. So we're in line, and this guy and his family just slide in front of us. Dana is so fed up that she actually says to the guy, "the line's back there, buddy" (hehehee, buddy). He turns to here and says, "The line is HERE" (second chance for an international incident in 5, 4, 3... ) but the guy's wife actually tells him to come back with her. Another lady from the states cuts in front of us too and Dana is very vocal about it - we try to assure everyone that we will all make it to the top at roughly the same time. It's all good - but it is frustrating.

We bought the 9pm tickets thinking that we could see the city at night, but we stay up there until 9:50ish - and it's still light outside. Its been a veeeery long day, 12 hours out and about, and we decide to go ahead and go back down.... we get some great pics of it at night, and as we walk to the metro, we keep turning around on occasion to get more shots. We're looking at it, at what must have been 10:00, and the whole thing starts blinking randomly like a Christmas tree. I get some video, we get some pics, 5 minutes later it's done... we were happy to be looking right at it when it started.

We head home, but we're hungry and we haven't had our French cuisine yet... we go to a place near the apt - and the kitchen is closed. Grrr. The only place to get food is the McDonalds across the street. But you know what, it was perfect after our long day. They had SUPER cold drinks, and had ICE! Not an American portion of ice, but certainly more than a European portion. It hit the spot.

Heidelberg to Paris

Today started out as our lazy recuperation day at the Murphys...and ended in Paris.

We slept in and then we had some delicious potatoes with onions, with a fried egg on top. And while the family was off to church, we watched the first two episodes of Top Chef DC on the Slingbox (its like itunes store that hooks to your tv, so they can get American tv). After that we watched a couple of episodes of Psych - and then even checked out "Life" - a series that was cancelled, but really good.

When the Murphy's got back we watched a few more episodes of Life, had hotdogs, chips (and a choice of chicken salad or egg salad) for lunch. We made sure we were all packed up and headed out. The Murphy men lugged our bags down and packed the car, Joe is so polite, "May I take your luggage?"... They just make lovely people. Julia got the car out of the garage (its like a car storage bin where you drive onto an elevator and then they shuffle the cars around - there is only one slot that a car can drive out of... So like a jukebox, you request your car, and then the little arm goes to that slot and brings it down) - super cool technology, but Julia says it makes her question if a trip is worth going through the trouble of getting the car out. We're honored that we were worth it.

At the rail station we had another little photo shoot with our photographer Julia and we were all in good spirits. The Murphy's spoiled us. It felt like home, and made us a little homesick for the first time really. We had real tv, real diet coke, and real food. The three of us all said, we could have gotten on a plane home today... Paris will be great though. We have a 2 day hop-on/hop-off bus, and so we can see a lot with minimal effort (yay, minimal effort!).

We had a 10min ride to Mannheim, and then a 90min layover there before our train to Paris. At the train station its a little like "The Happening" - we walk along and everyone is standing in a trance, their frozen faces transfixed upward, over our heads. Oh yah, the Germany game is on... We find a place to sit and wait, and we hear a few uproars of cheers a couple of times - 2-0 Germany, we're happy by association. :)

We know we're going to be hungry on the train, so we look around at shops for sandwiches we can take with us for dinner. They're all hard rolls... Just not something we're in the mood for - and then there is McDonalds. Should we? Fast, easy? Dana comes back with a scouting report, the deciding factor is that McDonalds has a self serve ICE MACHINE!! We can pack our cups with ice, crunch ice... Yay!!! ICE!! We really miss ice.

So we go to McDonalds, order, they hand us our cups... Patti goes around to the ice machine, we're really almost giddy about it. Patti comes back - no ice. The ice machine is broken. Its broken. Its just this small little machine anyway, not much bigger than a coffee maker. Its taped up, off.. Doesn't look like it has worked in a long time - and no one cares. You know how vocal Americans get when the ice runs out of the machine - there is a back up at the machine, we have to make sure they know - they need to run buckets of ice out asap... Everybody make way, the guy is coming with the ice! We wouldn't dream of going ahead and filling our cups without having the ice... No thanks, we'll wait. But here there is nothing like that. I almost feel like Europeans have found these strange machines that make water hard and cold magically, and they view it as alien technology that they don't know how to run. In Mosquito Coast, ice was the beginning of civilization. Not that I'm sayin... I'm just sayin. We miss ice. We were a little deflated after that - we were so excited about it, and then denied. We all vow to stop for a monster cup of ice, with a little soda, as soon as we land back in NYC. But hey, bonus - more soda, right?

We head out to the platform and people watch. Lots of people with German flags as capes... A true punk rocker with different colorful layers of spandex, a blue and blonde mohawk that I would guess to be about 6-8 inches high (shaved on the sides, but long blue sideburn that hang down in curls almost like an Orthodox Jewish person). We also collectively decide that man capris are no longer capris if worn with dress socks and loafers. They're high waters.

Our train arrives and there is a crush of people getting on. The aisles are MUCH narrower than in the other trains - as narrow as aisles on coach on the plane, and people have bags and want to go in both directions. This is a French train... When we went into Germany we had a German train, makes sense that we have a French one to go to Paris.

We have seats 11, 12 and 13 - we get on and see seats numbered in the 80s, and they're going down. At one point it felt like Billy Goats Gruff - people wanted to come to our end and we wanted to go to theirs, and no way that two lines of traffic were fitting through. Patti stored her bag and was able to squeeze her way up further to look for our seats. She found our numbers, but in car 5, and we're in 6. Dana and I got through somehow, people stood in other people's seats, the aisles started to thin out a LITTLE as more people found their seats.

We had nowhere to go, nowhere to sit, and I was *crabby* - the picture is actually of Dana in one bathroom with our bags, while I stood in the bathroom across the hall with Patti. Someone near us suggested we just sit where people weren't... Wow - genius. Packed train. But another person said they passed seats starting with 1 on the way in... But that would mean the car was numbered, "10, 11, 12, 13, 85, 86..." Down to 25 where we were no standing. I told him it doesn't make much sense. He offered back that "sometimes life exists in chaos". Whoa. Obviously European. America is linear. (For better or worse).

Patti went on a scouting mission - and sure 'nuf, our seats were at the other end of the car - the first seats we passed after we got on the train.
French trains put me in a bad mood. But we have seats now, our bags are near us, and all is good. We'll be in Paris in an hour.

Things we'll miss about Germany - Hanzel and Gretal looking houses, Doners, rolling green hills, the Murphys, and "chews". After we split with Amy and made our way around, we heard a lot of people using it. So I apologize to Amy for thinking she was cuckoo... We still don't know how to spell it, but we have confirmation that it starts with a "t" and could possibly have a "j" next. Tchjews - but that what it sounds like to us.

New country, new language, new systems... And a lot of stairs. We arrive in Paris and they don't believe in escalators or lifts (as we've come accustomed to calling them) and to get down to the subway is a LOT of stairs, in steamy hot conditions, with our bulging bags with added pounds of chocolate... We're just thinking/dreading that what goes down, must come up.

We get tickets, after we figure out the machine - €1,60 for one ticket (which is about $2)... I go to the turnstile and watch to see where the ticket goes (its tiny, like a 1/2 inch by 1.5 inches) and it slides through the machine and pops up. You take it as you go through. If you can go through. I put it in and push... Nothing - turnstile doesn't move. I push again, with both hands, and this puts my rolling bag in front of me... With great effort, it turns. One problem... My bag is through and I am NOT! I just paid $2 for my bag to ride the subway! GGGGGRRRRRRRRR!!! So back through the madness to get another ticket - other people are having the same issue and just jumping the turnstile (that's all I need is to be arrested in Paris for this). Dana and Patti have a hard time getting through to, but they're through and watching my bag. I go to get another ticket and now there's a big line at the machine. But fear not! A lady is selling tickets out of her hand for no profit (not sure if she's part of the system, or homeless and looking for a tip for saving people the line)... Anyway I buy two tickets from her - just in case. I get through but its still not easy.

Down the stairs to the trains - like 3 separate staircases with 20 steps each... Still imaging the trip back up... The train arrives and its packed. We start to get on, but doors close - wow, we have quite a learning curve hear in Paris. Second train comes and we are determined to get on this one - and we do. On the train its filthy, a guy gets on and is doing magic tricks with rope for tips.

Our hostess in Paris had to make an emergency trip somewhere - so she emails us directions to another apt we have to go to in order to pick up the key. We get off at that stop... Up the stairs... And truly, I've done the Spanish steps and Pisa, and this trip up these stairs is worse than both. The place is about 5 blocks from the metro - not bad if we didn't have luggage. The side walks are built for one and they're already clogging with people out for the night. We find the place, text the guy, and "Voila!", he says.. The key!

Back the 5 blocks, get another ticket - down the stairs, through another turnstile (Dana and I were actually stuck in the middle of this one for a second)... And back in the subway to the apt. On the subway you have to throw a lever on the door to get out or in - another learning curve - they don't open at every stop unless someone opens them. We throw the latch and get off at our stop. More horrific stairs up, and we're off - wandering down Paris streets at dusk, not sure where we're going. We find signs for the Louvre and we're next to that - so yay.

We walk past it by a few blocks, but we figure it out and get back on track. Find the apt, and put in the security code for the building... Then up to the 3rd floor (which we know by now, means the 4th floor). More stairs spiraling up. Then after (our) 3rd floor we're supposed to turn right and go down the hall, and then up another flight. The hall is long, skinny, and DARK. We use our cell phones for flashlights and barrell through - up one more and we're in.

Its a studio - small and efficient use of space. I'd estimate its 15 feet by 12 feet, plus a bathroom. And its hot - or maybe that's just us from all of our Paris stairs. This was our "adventurous" place - we knew it was going to be tiny, and it was advertised as having "a mattress in the closet" for our third person. We look in all the closets. No bed. But there are many throw pillows and a few blankets that we won't be needing, so we fashion a bed out of that, and we'll take turns sleeping on it. The "real" bed isn't much to talk about either - just a mattress on the floor, but better than the floor.

So we're in Paris! We're going to start clean with the city today - the Louvre, hop-on/hop-off bus, evening at the Eiffel Tower... Its all good, in many ways we have more than we did at the compound, free toilet paper and dish soap, a washing machine for clothes, and INTERNET! Everything is better with internet - and its already starting to cool down, and we have a nice courtyard view :)

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