Paris, Day Three

Next morning we left at 8 to get on a metro to Notre Dame. The others were all planning on taking a train out to see Versailles, a building that with all of its insipid Rococo conception and decoration held no attraction for me, so as I knew that I would be spending the rest of the day by myself in the city I wanted at least to visit this great site with them before they left. It seemed very small, probably because I pass Santa Maria del Fiore everyday, but the inside was much bigger than I had expected it to be from viewing the exterior. A wonderful touch was the large, decorated Christmas tree outside. It suddenly made me feel warm even though the temperatures were causing me to shiver.
We left Kris outside (she rather inexplicably did not wish to enter), and admired one of the most famous Gothic churches in all of Europe. The stained glass was, of course, superb, and the reverberations from a small service filled the transept area. We walked around the side aisles and into the nave until it was time for the others to catch their train at which point we exited and said goodbye. The towers did not open until 10 so I walked around the building, examining as best I could the many gargoyles and elaborate buttressing. Finding a garden and fountain in the back, I sat down and cleared some space in my memory card for more pictures. As it was still quite early, I decided to walk around the island, seeing Pont Neuf in the process.
It was an absolutely perfect, quiet, late fall morning and I was surrounded with beautiful views of architecture and river. I walked around the island and onto Pont Neuf, leaning for a while over the river in one of the alcoves, then walking to the opposite section of it, across the tip of the island. I started making my way back to Notre Dame to get in line for the towers. It was about 10:15 and quite a line had already formed! It wasn’t moving, either. I decided that I didn’t want to spend my entire morning waiting in line so I started to make my way across the water to the Tuileries. I had a nice walk there and a nice walk around the garden, stopping for a while to sit on a bench before the smallest of the circular pools. I figured out my metro route to the Gare St. Lazare, which I wanted to see since Monet had painted it a few times, then people-watched until I walked to the Tuileries metro station. I got off underneath the Gare at around 12, looked around, and then went outside in search of something to eat.
I ended up in a café called L’Atlantique where I had onion soup again (I really like it), a cheese sampler, Orangina (I tried to order Gini but they were out), crème brûlée, and a cappuccino. I lingered there for quite a while, enjoying the warmth and the people-watching before venturing out in the direction of Boulevard Haussmann where I turned left.
Haussmann must have been the only place more ridiculously overcrowded than Esselunga. I was getting pretty claustrophobic-feeling, actually, though I was really outside! However, the decorations and sites were amazing. The overhangs covering the sidewalks were lined with netting that was studded with all sort of large Christmas ornaments and hung with twinkling lights. The big display windows alternated products displays and animatronic stuffed animal shows with cooking mice, dancing owls, and musical moose. Something of The Christmas Story was present in the way children were pressing their noses to the glass.
I ducked into Lafayette Maison only to remember that “maison” means “house.” I walked through the crowds to an exit and then went back across the street to Galleries Lafayette, which upon closer inspection, was no better. I stayed there, however, in the hopes of finding some clothing article without which I should no longer find living possible. But anyone who has ever been there knows that most everything displayed is well out of the price range of a college student who has just had to purchase a temporary passport. Despite this, I still had an enjoyable time looking around.
Around 4:30 I went to the nearest metro and after a series of stops, emerged near the Eiffel Tower and walked to the East Pier in order to meet the others for dinner. Allison was already waiting and I was surprised to find her alone. She had left Versailles much earlier than the others, oppressed by the explosion of Rococo, and been walking around Paris, too. Soon we were met by the rest of the group and made our way down to the river to buy tickets for a dinner and river tour. I was a bit unsure about this but as I was traveling with my friends I wanted to spend some time with them. As we climbed on the dinning ship, the Eiffel Tower, which was lit up as normal, began to sparkle in an explosion of lights (it apparently is set to do that every hour or some other regular interval). It was really very impressive.
Unlike the food. It was like a good cafeteria but cafeteria food was not what I had had in mind for my last night in France. I was further annoyed when I found out that the girl who had insisted this be our evening plan had actually done this before and knew what we were getting into. Oh well. I ate my cold salmon, lettuce, cheese, and plain yogurt and tried not to be immature about it. The river tour was somewhat better, if a bit more cheesy than I would have liked. I guess I still got to see the city in a manner different than any I yet had.
Allison, Katie, and I then walked home, enjoying our last little bit of time in Paris. At the dreaded hostel we started to pack and lay out things for the next day before going to bed. I tried to sleep very early but from a combination of my bunkmate moving around too much, a cold draft, and another roommate snoring outrageously, I was not very well rested in the morning when I awoke at 4:45.
We left at 5:30 and rode the metro back to our airport shuttle rendezvous. The shuttle service was very disorganized and I was certain I was going to be crushed to death when the buses arrived and people began to climb aboard. However, the rest of our trip back to Florence was uneventful. I had a wonderful time in Paris and a horrible time, too. I was grateful to be “home.”