The nuns are running

We're re-starting soon....Right were we left off. Bless!

Freak in a Fountain

Ha ha! The things you see when looking for rivers. This guy was just hanging out by some fountain taking pictures in full-face leopard make-up. Extra from "The Lion King" or dumbass fool? His girlfriend/photographer had her face painted to look like a parrot. She-fool! But on the other hand, isn't it nice that they found each other and now they can prance around London together taking pictures of each other wearing animal make-up? Awwww....sweet! (Fools).

...I Emerged In London Rain

We arrived in London at at the St. Pancras/King's Cross station at around 9am. I washed my face, joined the tourist throng and headed to the exit. My plan was to head to the river,walk around, visit the Tate Modern, and maybe grab some lunch until Juli was done with her afternoon plans. Luckily it seemed like it had just stopped raining, and the air was nice and cool

Once outside, feeling very Pet shop Boys-ish, I started randomly walking to the left, thinking that I would just evetually run into the Thames (or at least a sign with an arrow). After a little while, I made another left, walked down a cute cobblestone road and sat in a little park to eat my sandwich. I also got a call from John, Emmanuelle's friend, and we agreed to meet at 2pm at Piccadilly Circus for lunch.

Then I walked through a church carnival, down another lane, and somehow ended back at the station (which by the way, was a totally cool building, but not enough to come back to it so soon).

Admitting to myself that I am no boy scout, I went into Boots and bought a pocket map (along with some chocolate and jelly babies) and headed back out on my way.

By this time it had somehow warmed up quite a bit, so I threw my sweater into the bag and headed to that river I'd seen so much of at the end of Benny Hill shows.

I Was On the Paris Train...

At 5am, I headed to the Gare du Nord to catch the Eurostar to London. Since I had been there a few weeks before to pick up Juli , it was actually really easy to find my terminal. However, I did have a little freak-out when my card didn't work in the automated ticket retrieval machine and then there was no one at the help kiosk. Le crap. Luckily I walked around and found another help desk what seemed like a mile away on the other end of the station where a totally grumpy guy printed out my tickets for me.

Since I was actually kinda early, I bought a sandwich for the train and then spent the rest of the time walking around the waiting area until they finallycalled boardoing and it was time to go through immigration. That process was a little weird since you go from one desk where you are asked questions in french, to another five steps away where they ask questions in english, and they're all "cheers" and "jolly good".

The train itself was awesome. The seats were large and cush, and there was a full rack of complementary magazines by each compartment door. And not like airplane magazines where you can buy garden gnomes and learn about how to get to your next terminal, but goodstuff like Bazaar, The Economist, and Numero.

And then cherry on top: there was breakfast service! Just as I was settling down to work my way through my new pile of magazines, the stewardess (or train equivalent) brought me tray with croissants, jam, orange juice, and coffee. And then when I was finished...she brought me an omelet with susage and baked tomato. Yay!

After breakfast, I dozed off while listening to the very bohemian and aromatic american parents sitting behind me in the compartment explain the perils of using non-organic soaps and the evils of shampoo to their kids. Dirty hippies.

Prepping for London

I spent the rest of the night preparing for the trip. First, I called Juli to see if she was going to be around, luckily she was and immediately asked if I wanted to go see The Dark Knight with her, but then was kinda bummed that I was only coming for the day. Since my train back to Paris left at 9pm, and she had plans in the afternoon, it meant no time for movies. But still, we planned on getting together for early dinner. Not that I was looking forward to steak-and-kidney pies and english muffins and stuff, but more for the conversation.

Right after I hung up, I rethought the situation. I mean, what better reason to go to London than to watch a movie with Juli. Also, Gina has just emailed me to tell me how good the movie was and it wasn't coming to Paris until I left. So what the bloody hell? So I called Juli back and we made a date with Batman. I figured I'd wander around London until the morning train, but Juli graciously offered me her couch for the night.

Considering that at home I avoid even going as far as Daly City, or the Marina, for movies, I felt completely decadent (which is a feeling I don't necessarily hate lol).

I also emailed Emmanuelle's friend John, whom she'd always wanted me to meet. Since Juli wasn't going to be available until after 5pm, I wrote him and asked if he was free for lunch.

I spent a good part of the rest of the night talking to Raymond. He had gone downstairs to use the computer and had been accosted by a pack of japanese, who then peer-pressured him into drinking numerous shots of whiskey. He was a little confused by the fact that I was leaving again. And for such a short amount of time. Not sure if he was sad to see me go, or upset that he wouldn't have the room to himself for longer. Hmmmm.

After he finally passed out while telling me some story about a girl and geometry, I packed my tote with London overnight essentials (toothbrush, t-shirt, change of underwear, chocolate bars, iPod, umbrella, sweater and camera) for the trip and tried to not fall asleep so I wouldn't miss the early 6am metro to the Gare du Nord.

Pete and The Pirates at the Plage

And of course, Paris Plage couldn't be resisted, especially by the Japanese. So during dinner, one of the older Japanese gentlemen came by our table and invited Raymond and I to join him for one of the free concerts that evening.

After checking the schedule and ascertaining that a good group was playing, we walked downstairs, wine and snacks in hand, to meet the group. It was Mister Older Gentleman, Older Lady with Hat, Mikiko, Raymond and I, as it seemed the rest of the group got to drinking very quickly after dinner and were now too groggy to go anywhere.

After a very rushed trip on the subway, with us running after a surprisingly spry Mr. OG, we made it to the Seine, and found a nice place to settle. I'm always impressed by the japanese foresight, as as soon as we opened the wine, a blanket came out, little Hello Kitty cups appeared, and little plates were passed around for the rice cracker and cofee cake snacks. All I had was some plastic cups that Don left for me in case I went to a picnic. And my wine and gummi coke bottles were rejected as appropriate. But whatever, more gummi for me.

As soon as Pete and the Pirates started playing, we kinda disbanded. Mr. OG ran into the crowd to go bounce with the out-of-rhythm frenchies, Mikiko and Hat thought it was too loud and left. Raymond said he prefered classical, but was a trooper and stayed with me 'til the end. I think mostly because I said we should stop for ice cream on the way back home. lol

Pete and the Pirates were really good, almost better than on CD. But since all their songs are about 2 minute slong, they were done relatively quickly. So we stopped for ice cream and then, once home and in a fit of inspiration (or restlessness) I bought a ticket to London for the next morning. And thus my third night with no sleep.

Paris Plage

And now back to our regular program with a few words about Paris Plage.

Paris Plage happens every year from the middle of July to the middle of August, mostly for the benefit of those parisians that for some reason don't leave town on holiday. The whole nedeavor is a little weird, but in a cool way.

Sections of the Seine's right bank get fitted with cabanas, pools, hammocks, sand, lawnchairs, ice cream stands, little restaurants, and other beach accroutements to simulate a holiday oceanside. Excpet that instead of seagulls and waves, you wave at tourist boats and shoosh away pigeons. But it is highly enjoyable.

There are also magazine stands on bikes, huge water sprayers to cool down, free rock shows, and activities galore like fencing, babyfoot, exercise areas, segway rides, and crocket. On sunny days, the beach seems to be packed by noon.

Don and I went to study there one afternoon, and though we stalked the hammocks and lawnchairs, we finally settled on a wooden platform next to a cafe. (Though I wanted some hammock time badly enough that I almost narc-ed out the teens smoking pot). But it was way too sunny to study so after five minutes I ended up taking a nap and working on the tan.

La Defense

I'd heard a lot about the business district of La Defense being really interesting, set-up-wise at least, and having a great longshot view of the Arc de Triomphe, so I went to check it out.

It did have a nice view of the Arc and the standing in the middle of the avenue you could see it and the newer arc marking the city limit. It was a really quiet, empty area, and kinda (really) boring, though I did find a nice cemetery. They always help to liven things up.

The area is also bordered by the Bois de Bologne, which is supposed to be very nice, with golf courses and gardens etc. But it's even more famous/notorious for the very large amounts of hookers, hustlers, and various other sordid sex workers that ply their trade between the trees at nighttime.

But since I had no interest in any financial transactions that did not involve pastries or shoes, and more importantly, it was still daylight, I jumped back on the metro and headed out to somewhere with people.

Literary Pursuits

So I figured I should buy some french books to keep on praticing once I'm home or on the train etc. So I went to Gibert Jeune and bought some books to take back with me. Some of the masterpieces I acquired included Bonjour Tristesse, The Flowers of Evil, and A Season in Hell.

I also decided to buy translations of some of my favorite books, that way I'd have a better idea of what I was reading, rather than just being all coffeehouse cool with my Baudelaire and not having an inkling of why the damn flowers are actually so evil. So I got Less Than Zero and The Rules of Attraction, The Great Gatsby (or Gatsby the Magnificent in french), A Room With A View (or A Window to Tuscany), and Brideshead Revisited.

One curious thing I noticed was that the names in some books were changed. More specifically, women's names that I guess are hard for the french to pronounce are all changed to "Olivia". So "Bridget Jones's Diary" is actually "Le Journal d'Olivia" and Blair Waldorf in the Gossip Girl books is Olivia Waldorf.

Or maybe Blair and Bridget actually mean really nasty things in french. I'll will research further and report ASAP Blairdam it!

Sneaking In

It was 6:30 by the time I started heading back to the dorm. I was tired, but energized by the coming morning (and the three cups of expresso I had at Ignacio's) . The streets were very still, and empty except for the vendors setting up their market stalls and some drowsy waiters preparing for breakfast at the all-night cafes.

I was very quiet going into the dorm, as I was dreading running into a nun. Last time I came in so late I said I had gone for an early, early morning walk, but it's not like I could use that one again, especially with the same nun. And I had already used the "Oh, I'm just heading out right now" and just turned around and walked back out the door. Not that it would be a big deal, but it just seems so delinquent to come in at 7am from a night out, while a nun had to get up at dawn to start fixing my breakfast.

Unfortunately, I did run into a nun. So I just waved and ran up the stairs. It was one of the old ones, so I'm hoping she couldn't see me clearly and would maybe confuse me for a japanese.

Ignacio's Apartment

Ignacio's apartment was the biggest one I've seen so far in Paris. It had a huge entryway, four bedrooms and a really large living room with high ceilings. It also had some really fun furniture which contrasted nicely with the old style molding and structure.

I think we were all a little tired and wired , so we lounged around, chatted, and looked at Ignacio's cool interactive installations while he prepared dessert and yelled "panna cota. panna cotta" repeatedly. The oft-yelled home-made panna cota was actually really good, and was garnished with fruit salad. It was 6am, so thankfully he made espressos to go with it.

Chau and Leslie had trains to catch in a few hours, and I was starting to get zonked again, so we bid Ignacio goodbye. We walked Leslie to her apartment and then I walked Chau to hers with plans to meet in the SF when we were all back.

Second Night- No Sleep

Later that evening at around 10:30, I headed over to meet Chau. I had tried to take a nap, but I was wired from not sleeping, so i just took another shower and figured I'd sleep later.

We met at Kubanito, where Leslie was working. The place was really crowded but we settled into a booth, and, since it was her last evening, I braced myself for what Chau said was gonna be a long night.

A few hours later, and after a round of Monacos and virgin pina coladas, we took a snack break and went across the street to buy lebanese food.

By 4:30 am, and a few more round of drinks and the acquaintance of Ignacio, an Italian interactive architect, we were the only ones left in the place. We waited for Leslie to finish closing up so we could walk her home, and started heading down the street when Ignacio asked, "Why don't you come over for panna cota?". Why not indeed. So resigning myself to no sleep for yet another evening, we all headed over to Ignacio's for dessert (breakfast?).

Un-PC Food- Paris vs. Barcelona

On this corner Paris:

And in this corner, Barcelona:

Berkeley and Santa Cruz would go crazy for these tasty treats!