With a back pack and a baguette in Paris
Paris Travel Blog› entry 1 of 8 › view all entries
I have taken the pain and frustration and discovered beauty through lament. I stare up into the wiry cage of the Eiffel, and we decide to feed the begging birds our chips while the rain drizzles and the tower beckons us to climb to its lofty heights. But, I have seen its ugliness from all sides, yet the creation - the monumental stature - is sublime. In creation, beauty is not necessity, yet the Tower is such a work of Art. Created only to beguile the eyes.
We move on through the streets, clutching maps tightly, stopping at every corner to question and to search. Most of the people are under the feeble impression that we are panhandling; they pass quickly like we are smoke, until they realize we just got lost. Fear and apprehension are widespread it seems, for the Roma are everywhere.
To add to unfortunate encounters, we are approached by men - who sometimes ask for unruly favors. Before our train departed from Paris, a random man at the train station asked if we would like to go back to his apartment and service him. Gay Paris, N'est pas?
The longer we strolled through the streets, the more the anticipation rose of visiting the Louvre. When we spied the carousel and the square, surrounded by miles of artwork, our spirits soared and all weariness was forgotten. Until we arrived at the doors. Today was Tuesday, and the only day that the museum is closed.
Walking hrough the throngs of people on Champs D'Elysees, only to get to a monument erected above a littered city street, is not disappointing, however. We stopped in perfumeries and sniffed around, purchased a few duds in lovely boutiques, even hit Planet Hollywood for a snack. But, once we arrived at the infamous arch, a photo was taken, and off we were to the Metro.
Has Paris lost its charm? Everything seems too expensive, too crowded, too dirty. Like a colony of ants, swarming in mass confusion, everyone looks in a hurry to get somewhere. Flair is expensive clothing and pungent perfume. Charm is a prolonged stare. Sightseeing a pain in the arse. But, the road is now our home, the trains our guides. We still enjoy the frantic game. We make records of our awe.