Day 6 - Paris missions & bus

Our first full day in Paris! Ah, what a joy to wake up in our tiny room and still be stumped by the design of the shower. Stupid, stupid French shower! After we’re done, the floor looks like a pool. I guess if we wanted precision engineering, we’d have gone to Germany.



We probably didn’t mention the toilets yet – those are actually pretty clever. There’s two buttons for flushing… one for if you peed, the other for if you pooped. The buttons produce different amounts of water. Pretty eco-friendly. Why aren’t we doing this back home?



Mission #1 – get a new watch.

The one we bought from the wandering African peddler a couple days ago has proven to be a total piece of crap. Shocker! Every day it gets slower. Soon it will be running backwards. Lucky for us, there’s a watch store right next to the hotel. Even though the saleslady understands that we want the cheapest digital watch they’ve got, and that we are planning on throwing it in the trash as soon as we get home, she still makes a big production of packing the one we buy in a special zip-up storage case and elaborately signing the proof of purchase section of the warranty card.

My sexy new watch

Mission #2 – get a new camera.

The waitress at Breakfast in America recommended a big store called “FNAC”, which seems to be a higher end Best Buy. Even though we’ve got pretty good directions, we can’t find the place. Why not? Because it’s underground – you enter through the subway station! Don’t ask why. No answer could possibly make sense, that’s why we didn’t ask. Once inside, the cameras can wait. First we gotta see what THE SHIELD DVD box sets look like in French. We were hoping that on the covers, Michael Chiklis might be wearing a beret, or perhaps have on a striped shirt and be threatening some perp with a baguette instead of his Desert Eagle hand-cannon. Alas, they look a lot like the American boxes do. I was thinking of getting one for the fun of it, but the regional encoding means we couldn’t play the DVDs back in the States. Plus, they’re way more expensive in Euros.

None of the salesguys spoke English, so we managed to muddle through the tale of why we needed a camera using our extensive mime techniques. We wound up with a new Nikon Coolpix, which we tricked out with a 2 gig storage card. We’re not missing the old camera at all – as Katie compassionately said, “it sucked anyway”. The salesman asked which color we wanted and, of course, Katie wanted the “rosé” (pink actually). The salesman looked at Jordan and just shook his head. Poor guy, must be married.



Back at the hotel, Katie’s ready to be a tourist, but all Jordan wants to do is read the camera manual. To thine own self be true, right? The camera has many cool functions that Katies doesn’t care about, so we’ll figure them out on the road. After a quick lunch, we’re off.



Mission #3 – find a tour bus.

Visiting the most amazing city in the world but don’t know the geography at all? Not sure which monuments are worth actually entering? Then get your bearings on a tour bus! Brilliant idea by Katie. We jumped onboard at the Louvre.

Jordan at the Louvre

The “L’Open Tour Bus” company has a fleet of double-decker buses that we’ve been seeing everywhere. The upper deck has no roof, so you can cruise around in the sunshine with a full 360-degree view of all the sites. They give you a pair of cheap headphones when you buy a ticket, and you plug it next to your seat, select your language from the panel (each button is marked by the flag of a different country), and the pre-recorded tour tells you all about what you’re seeing.







Of course, we choose to hear English, but you can’t choose English, you have to choose “Britain” to hear English. And the voice clearly has a British accent. Whatever, we only saved your country from the Germans and named some of our best food after you. No problem. It’s fine there is not an American flag to choose from. We get it.

on the bus

Arc De Triumph - built by an angry little midget

yeah, that's the Eiffel Tower behind us!

You can get on or off the bus at any of their stops, and buses arrive at each stop every 10 minutes. It’s actually a pretty great system. We rode around for about 3 hours and we saw tons of stuff. The company runs 3 other routes, so we converted our 1-day tickets into 2-day tickets with plans to ride the remaining routes the next day.



Jordan wants to point out that he ordered our dinner baguette sandwiches in French for the entire conversation (including saying “Coca Cola Light” instead of “Diet Coke”). Way to go, Jordan!



Riding on a bus all day is tough work. We were a little beat. Sitting around J-le-P for the last 4 days hadn’t gotten used to the tough schedule that young tourists must maintain in Paris. We needed a break, so we decided to see a movie. Our bus let us off in a slightly sketchy area near one of the train stations, far away from our hotel, so we knew it was subway time. You readers may not know that Katie is the Queen Of Public Transportation (“QOPT”, for short). Language is not an obstacle for the Queen. Any city, any language, and she will get you from point A to point B – even if there are transfers!



We got a local magazine and found listings for films in “version originale” – meaning, movies shown in their original language (not dubbed into French). We decided to see INDIANA JONES 4 at the Bibliotheque Nationale, which our guidebook said had a good modern theater. Off we went, with the QOPT leading the way. Unfortunately we read the listing wrong and arrived 90 minutes early, so we went to a nearby café for dinner.



It is at this very café that a momentous event took place:

We finally found chocolate mousse in France.

We also had good pizzas and beer and chatted with a really interesting Australian named Nick, who spoke a bunch of languages and was teaching at the Sorbonne while pursuing a comparative literature degree.

INDY 4 was pretty bad. The print wasn’t great, nor the projection, which didn’t help, but the movie never grabbed us and was frankly disappointing. The big reveals were given away at the beginning of the movie. The part with the ants was pretty good, but otherwise, it was a snoozer.

Night of Day 5 - magical night in Paris

OK, so we’ve eaten dinner. We’re all dressed up (Jordan’s getting some mileage out of that wedding jacket!) and in the magical city of light and love, Paris. We’re infected with a feeling of being alive and being in an exciting new place. We knew that everything was up the river from us, so we decided to start walking north and see the magical city at night.

We had no idea how magical it would be. It took about 35 seconds for Jordan to fall in love with Paris, and another 2 seconds to start bitching about how shitty the city planning is in Los Angeles.

If only we had a camera with us that night to capture the beautiful light and the sunset, lighting the monuments and classical architecture with red and orange highlights. The river, slowly moving through the heart of the city. Young couples everywhere. People coming home from work, or dinner with friends. Scooters zipping by. People chatting at sidewalk cafes. Cobblestone squares. Art deco Metro stations. As we walk, we pass amazing old buildings on all sides. They are so elaborate, made of huge stone blocks, intricate and permanent and just incredible. Impossible to build today. Soon we are at the Louvre. We walk the grounds, into the Jardin des Tuileries. Large expanses of grass in the dark evening. Quiet pools. Statues in the darkness. Behind us, the guards are shutting things down, closing down the property.

Katie remembers that there’s a ferris wheel on the river, so that becomes our new mission: to ride the slow ferris wheel on the bank of the Seine. We talk to several people who ought to know, and none have any idea what we’re talking about. Apparently “Ferris wheel” isn’t a term that the French use. In the end, Jordan sketches one in the dirt, and a security guard finally realizes what we’re asking. Bad news – the ferris wheel won’t be set up for another month. Mission denied.

That doesn’t stop our night. We walk off the grounds to a bridge across the Seine – the Pont de la Concorde. We sit on the stone railing of the bridge and watch the water go by… the people having dinner on the roof of a houseboat below us… tourists wave from a boat that slips under the bridge. Paris has an entire city department devoted to illuminating the city at night, to making it beautiful. Does any American city have something similar? The Parisians are clearly masters of the art. We are calm and rested and at peace in a beautiful city. Can life get much better?

Finally the hour catches up to us and we grow tired. We decide to head back to the hotel. We get on a local bus and ride, the Seine not even a block on our right. The city rolls past us. A woman on the bus is eyeing us. Yes, we’re American tourists. You can probably tell us from a mile away. But tonight, we don’t care. We’re just people, appreciating a beautiful city. Only one more stop to go. The woman gets off. She stares at Katie from outside the bus. Katie stares at her, worried she’s about to be insulted. The woman turns and points. Katie looks – the woman is pointing to the Eiffel Tower. It’s lit up, with flashing lights running all the way up and down the Tower. It’s breathtaking, an incredible sight! (they do it for 10 minutes at the beginning of each night hour.) The woman smiles at us and the bus pulls away. Not an insult at all, she just knew we were new to the city and that we would appreciate those magical, twinkling lights – she was right. Thank you, strange French lady!

Finally, it’s our stop. Apparently in France, you get off the bus by using the rear doors. Ignorant of the basic protocol, we tried to get out the front and messed the whole system up!

Day 5 - Paris at last!

We take a taxi from our hotel to the train station. We’ll take a local train to Nice, and then get on the high-speed TVG train for a 4-hour 1st class trip to Paris! Our taxi driver tells us a great story about how his parents were supposed to emigrate to America from Russia in the 1920s, but they got sick and had to get off the boat early – in France. They never finished their journey, and now their son is in his 60s and thoroughly French. He said he still has their visas to enter the US!



All of our great plans fall apart when we get to the local train station and find out we’ll miss our rendezvous with the TVG high-speed train if we follow the original plan. There’s a huge line of people behind us and the clerk speaks very little English. She’s insisting we take the local train to a different station to meet the TVG. We freak out, but take a chance that she’s not exercising an instinctive hatred of Americans, and follow her advice. When we get off, a helpful train guy tells us that we’re going to be fine. He says we’re picking up the TVG one station later than planned. WHEW!



The TVG is a 2-story train and we’ve got reserved seats on the upper deck! The French countryside races by. Fields, lakes, hills, farms, towns, cities… it’s amazing to look at the things we pass and wonder if they were built by Romans, or Gauls, or someone even earlier. What’s it like to live surrounded by so much history? Wish we had pictures to show you… read on to find out the terrible tale of why we can’t!



Arriving in Paris, we step out into the most amazing old train station you can imagine. Iron girders soaring high into an arched roof, massive trains lining the endless platforms, the hubbub of people everywhere – the Gare de Lyon station was incredible. Jordan was so excited he wanted a picture – and that’s when we discovered the camera was missing. We’d taken photos of each other on the train and that’s the last we saw of it. Jordan races back to the train to search it before the cleaning crews start work, but the camera is nowhere to be found in our car. It’s a total mystery.



Stepping out onto the street - SK’DOOSH!! - the feeling hits that we are truly in Paris! In front of us are streets crowded with Mercedes cabs, scooters zipping madly around them, and huge avenues of classic Napoleon-era apartments. You know the ones – pointy roofs, little round windows on the top floors, wrought-iron balconies – there were posters of them on the walls of every girls’ room in your dorm at college. Jordan is gawking and oohing-and-ahhing like the tourist he is. Katie’s the old pro and secures us a cab. Driving to the Marais, Jordan is still slack-jawed. Tourist! Good thing there’s nothing in the cab to trip on.



Our hotel is perfectly situated in the heart of everything, on Rue de Rivoli near the Hotel De Ville (not to be confused with Cruella DeVille, she lives somewhere else where they allow dogs). Unfortunately, our hotel is narrow and tiny. Even ants think it’s tiny. Only one of us can fit in the elevator with our luggage and our room is on the 5th floor! Once we get up there, it’s like a rental in Alphabet City – TINY TINY TINY! We can barely fit.

(yes, that's Jordan touching both walls simultaneously! And he's not even stretched out all the way!)



The shower has a 6-inch high rim on the floor to keep the water in, but the curtain hangs far beyond the rim, which guarantees we will soak the floor every time we shower:



But the biggest stumper is how to turn on the lights! We click all of the light switches in every possible combination for at least 20 minutes, in the dark, to no avail. Two college educations, gone to waste. Eventually the desk clerk solves the mystery – you stick your square plastic room key into a slot above the light switch, and that “approves” the power in the apartment. Really? That’s your design premise? Really?









































It’s time to for a laundry trip, so the minimum wage student working the front desk (an Asian girl with bright purple contact lenses) gave us the card of a nearby laundromat. Inside was a kind fellow who didn’t speak much English, but did speak the universal language of yes-I’ll-wash-your-undies. Love you! We left him with a couple bags of filth. Our way of making a good name for Americans.



Now it’s dinner time and we’re ready for something satisfying. No more baguettes, please! We need something new. We wander our Paris neighborhood, checking out the many restaurants. Just like in J-le-P, all the menus have a section for salads, pizzas, and main courses. I thought a place like France would scorn pizza, but it’s more common on the menus here than it is in the States. Unfortunately, prices in Paris are just as expensive as J-le-P – about $35 per person. Just when we thought we’d die of hunger and frustration, there it was in front of us – BREAKFAST IN AMERICA! (that’s the name of the restaurant – really!)



It looks like a classic American diner. Could it be? Please? We walk in. The waitresses are speaking to each other in English. One is even wearing a Ramones T-shirt! The menu’s in English and it’s all the food we want! – burgers, chicken sandwiches, fries, nacho chips, beer! The answer to all our prayers! Much gluttony and satisfaction ensues. Plus our waitress is a great source of tips – including where to find movies in English. That’ll come in handy in couple days…

Day 4 - Antibes

On the advice of the English retirees we’d met a couple days earlier, today we went to Antibes for the big open-air market.

Antibes has an old section with huge stone fortifications defending it from sea attack. Inside, the streets are twisty and full of nifty shops. It was right out of a movie. The open air market was full of fresh food, right off the farm – vegetables, meat, crafts, fish, jellies… pretty neat. If we had a kitchen to cook in, maybe we’d have been tempted. This is probably where Jordan began tripping. He tripped his way through France like Chevy Chase as Gerald Ford. Openly gawking at some sight ahead of him, he’d step off the curb or somehow trip over an object that was impossibe for someone who was looking to miss. The tripping came to a HORRIBLE result many days later – but that’s a story for you to look forward to!

We wandered shops for a while, stopped in a bookstore (bought Barak Obama’s 2nd book – hell, if he’s gonna be our Prez, we might as well read what he’s got to say), bought sun hats, and finally had lunch in a café on the main plaza.

Our big obsession was finding a watch! Since our cell phones don’t get international service, they don’t display the time, so we’ve been flying blind. Since we wanted a cheap digital watch, everyone advised us to buy one from one of the passing African peddlers who are hawking all kinds of crap. Jordan approached one and was quickly immersed in a clandestine adventure of following the guy to a mysterious location to retrieve the bag of available watches, then a marathon haggling session while Katie worried at the café! Jordan wound up with a classy-looking watch that we soon found out, runs VERY slow. No refunds when you buy from street peddlers! But it was a fun adventure.

We napped in the waterfront park while old men played lawn bowling nearby. It seemed like a blissful two hours. According to our watch, it was three. Hmmm. To get back to J-le-P, we took the ultimate tourist vehicle – Le Petit Train! It looked like a little kids’ train you’d take at Disney. We drove through town and amazingly, nobody laughed at us. Truly amazing.





Back in J-le-P, we bought postage for our postcards and wandered around the less commercial part of town. Still can’t find where Katie stayed all those years ago.

Jordan’s genetic tendency to panic before traveling hits in a big way and he intently quizzes the hotel desk attendants about how the train ride to Paris will work.

Day 3 - Juan-Les-Pins with a bit of Antibes

Walked to Antibes beach to find kayaks. Unintentionally took the long route! Jordan proudly breaks out his new green Red Sox cap to ward off the hot sun.
None of the boat rental places have kayaks until July (WHAT!!!) so we decided to lay out some more on the beach.

We bought American magazines and some mats and laid out. TIME magazine has never been so comforting.

Returned to the hotel, determined to make up for the lack of kayaking, and went parasailing! We thought it would be dangerous and exciting. Instead, it was very safe and soothing. We strapped on harnesses that were attached to the parasail itself. The entire contraption is secured by a line to the boat itself. We sit on the back of the boat, the driver goes, and slowly plays out the line. We lift easily off the boat and into the sky. There’s no turbulence. We don’t have to make any effort. It’s a lot like being on a smooth plane ride, only without walls, floor, or roof. The ride lasted about 10 minutes. To bring us down, the driver simply reeled the line in until we were safely back on the rear of the boat.

After dinner, we had drinks at the deco hotel where F. Scott Fitzgerald used to write.

Day 2 - Juan-les-Pins

Went searching for contact lens solution to make up for what the Icelanders stole from us at Reykjavik customs. We went to a grocery store, where Jordan was fascinated by all the packaging. Ultimately we had to buy contact lens fluid at a pharmacy. There’s a strict rule about what gets sold at a pharmacy vs at a supermarket. Too bad we don’t know the rule.


After getting all of our supplies, we retired to the hotel. Katie bought us 2 chairs on the hotel’s beach, where we camped out for the rest of the day. Katie’s in heaven! Jordan’s kind of miserable, because he has to be completely covered up, thanks to his vicious Maine sunburn, which has cooked him a bright red color.


For lunch, we wandered our little town and settled on a corner café. A nice middle-aged woman was our waitress (she’s also the owner, we think). She didn’t speak any English, so Jordan muddled by in French until a neighboring table intervened. Turns out they’re an English couple who retired to J-le-P! They gave us lots of tips about being there, including going to the open market on Thursday in Antibes.

Katie went to the spa for a massage, and then we floated in the spa’s pool for a while. The Mediterranean was a little too cold, but the pool was heated, so that was a no-brainer.

For dinner, we walked over to J-le-P’s restaurant row. It’s a little street blocked off from cars, with restaurants on either side. All of the restaurants have outdoor seating on the street, very nice! We ended up at a Vietnamese place. Interestingly, everything cooked Asian-style in France is “Wok” – for example, “Wok poulet” or “Wok tofu”. We also discovered that if you order sandwiches “Americaine”, they put french fries in your sandwich! If that’s American style, how come we’ve never seen it done that way in America?

Day 1 - Juan-les-Pins

Holy cow, that was a lot of flying!

We went from Boston to Iceland (yeah, Iceland - it saved us about $1000 in airfare), had a quick layover, and then flew Reykjavik to Paris! In the Paris airport we had our first encounter with French food at an Ille cafe. Here's the deal: in France, everything comes in baguettes. You can get baguette with chicken, baguette with cheese, baguette with ham & cheese, etc.  Everybody's got the same 3 or 4 combinations - so you better get used to them.

From Paris we flew to Nice, which is 30 minutes from our destination of Juan-Les-Pins, a beach town on the Riviera. We chose this town because Katie stayed there when she visited France in college. The cabbie gave us the scenic tour from the airport. Passing through Antibes, we drove down narrow little streets, with scooters racing by us on either side. The traffic signs are all bizarre symbols we've never seen before. Truly, we're in another country.

After settling in at our great hotel, we showered and discovered we were starving. We needed more than the cute Icelandic snacks they had on the plane. We walked along the waterfront, which was lined with cafes and restaurants. We settled on a nice place on the beach. We do mean ON THE BEACH - the table and chairs were actually on the sand, with the waves only a few feet away! You know how Katie hates the water, and beautiful nights. It was pretty great.  The only downfall was dessert - there was no chocolate mousse on the menu.  We thought that would be on every French dessert menu.

The view:

Happy Tourists!