My first afternoon, following the louvre visit, I was relaxing in jardin des tuileries with an expensive sandwich avec jambon et fromage. I watch some sort of interesting vogue'esque photo shoot. Here are my notes:
- model standing on pink cylinder
- 5 in baby pink platforms
- soft pink pleated silk skirt
- draped with feather top
- hair blows in her face as she takes last drag of fag
- flails arms and legs as in convulsing
-pasty white w/ pink complements
- small crew 5-6; 30 somethings
- model - 20s?
- every 45 seconds man with tattoos and wrist cast shades her with umbrella
-twirling now - nearly falling over
- tryin gto show the free flowing costume
- crowd of + 20 look confused as I do
- she makes modeling look easy... not effortless... but unskillful
- one man in neckbrace gives directions
Le Louvre
Arrived at 16:00, a lot of people - difficult to enjoy myself when surrounded by frantic tourists with the only objective to snap a photo of mona lisa. Only a few people take in the art -- conditioned to seek out famous pieces - stand next to themp with a smile and have their picture taken - one would think the international community would not act like Americans.
Left the Louvre for the Musée d'Orangerie - but it was closed - walked very far to reach le Centre Pompidou (individuals groups and couples lounge on the stone decline infront of the museum. I was approached by a french lady about my age - she rambled softly in french - was not interested once she discovered I did not speak the language.
Woke up and decided I could rest 15 minutes longer - went east on the tube when I should have went west - arrived at the rail station - read the electronic departure screen, 9016 pour paris was closed. I began to get anxious - asking a couple if I could cut them in the security line. Asked a woman if she thought I would make it -- she told me something like, hurry but don't rush - sped through the passport check and ran to the eurorail. I ask twice which cabin I am in - second time I am told just to hop on because I will not make it. Crash through each cabin - but I do not care - get stuck in the food cabin - my first experience with french commands - I fail. Make it to my seat but someone is in it - fall asleep with my mouth open wide for the train ride.
Spent over and hour in the Gare du Nord. The metro ticket dispenser will not accept my credit card - wait in line behind some ignorant Indians - was called over to an open attendant at the information center - she was horrid - I even used some french - forced to buy a map of London to get change for the metro machine.
I look like a single female tourist - been hacked at twice once I was able to just walk away from - the other was a caracurist outside the pompidou. It is 9oo pm the sun is setting and I am far from my bed - just threw my bad in an overflowing "storage room" - don't even know if I can access it once I get back or if it will be there. Don't know what to do - don't want to go back so early - but I do not want to wanter the streets. My wine is nearly gone and my feet are tired.
Travel is nothing without company.
Slept well lastnight - missed breakfast for a few more hours of sleep - had a strange dream after I woke up - I was in a hostel with Courtney and Louie. Met everyone in the hostel - one person had a small child, age 5, but she was like a playing card it was strange.
Visited the Eiffel Tower lastnight it was lit up with a brilliant liberty blue - sad that I was alone in a quarter mile stretch of doting lovers - however seeing the tower lit up and for ten minutes with epileptic flashing white lights - I was happy - I was there.
I can handle myself on the metro - I am 20 with limited public transportation experience - however I use my head. Mad rush to the Champ de Mars metro - I knew it would be chaotic but my feet were tired and I needed my bed.
I don't like the french.
((incomplete))
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