Gay Par-eeeeee........
As much as I'd like to say that the events of the past "weekend" (Sunday-Tuesday) diminished my love for the city of lights, love, and other things that start with "L", that is not the case. Maybe I'm a masochist (not in the sexual way), maybe I'm a glutton for punishment, or maybe I have some sort of unconditional love for the FIRST international location I'd ever visited, I can NOT hate Paris. This visit might not have been my best so far, but I still had a TON of fun, and can't WAIT for November 19th when I return.
Sunday morning, we left Angers bright and early. We arrived in Paris around 10 am, bought our Paris Visite passes, and headed to our hostel. I'd read a slew of mixed reviews about our 16 euro a night hostel (for reference it cost us 15 euros to get into the Halloween party later in the night, but I'll get to that). On departing the metro, we were almost victims of an unfortunate pick-pocketing incidence, but fortunately, we all have WAY too much attitude for 8 year old thieves (I wish that could be said of their older counterparts, but I'm getting ahead of myself). After dropping our bags at the hostel, we headed for Montmartre. Maybe it's the hipster artisan in me, but I LOVE Montmartre. I don't LOVE the weirdos selling cheap souvenirs on the steps of Sacre Coeur, or the creepers who lurk, awaiting an unsuspecting tourist on which they can tie some strings and make a bracelet. But I LOVE the bohemian vibe that is IMMEDIATELY palpable within the quarter. We hung out in Montmartre for awhile, then wandered down to the Latin Quarter. Eventually, we began preparations for Halloween, which included me piling on loads of black, white, and green face paint and fake blood (I LOVE fake blood; I don't LOVE the stain it leaves on one's face after a night of partying). I believe my efforts were sufficient, because I proceeded to scare EVERYONE at the front desk at the hostel, and most of the people staying there too. Then we played some King's cup with people at the hostel (American, Australian, German, etc). Fun and headed to Pont Alexandre to a discothèque for a Halloween party by the Seine, which was pretty freakin' cool. Too bad it cost 15 euros for entrance and 10 euros for a beer. Good though that I was already pretty drunk. We danced and drank and scared people and I headed back to the hostel because I was tired.
Monday, I wasn't too hungover, but I got my lady time, so I retired to the hostel after lunch for a nap. I only missed a trip to the Eiffel Tower (seen it) and the Amélie café, but we all met up later for hangout time in our PJs in the "loft" with our new hostel friends (which turned out to be a good idea since Tuesday was SO exhausting). Tuesday morning, we woke up, got ready for the day, and checked out of the hostel. All was quiet at Barbés-Rouchechuart, lulling us into a false sense of security, but to be fair, we HAD no idea we would have to return. We headed to Montparnasse to deposit our luggage in a locker for safe keeping, while we wandered before our evening train. At brunch (café crème et une sandwich), Charlotte realized she had lost her phone. I called it to see if we heard it in her purse, but no luck. Instead, an Indian man answered, and we realized, she had left her phone at the hostel. We resolved to return later to retrieve said phone. Meanwhile, we headed to Bastille for an open air market, a vintage shop, and Le Marais. After a few hours of aimless wandering, we decided we had nothing else to do, so we should return to the hostel and retrieve Charlotte's phone. At the time, we thought nothing of it, but soon came to realize it was probably one of the worst decisions we could have made.
How to describe Barbés-Rouchechouart? First of all, it is unpronounceable. Second of all, it is quite literally the scariest place in all of Paris. Not only are there 8 year old pickpockets, waiting to scam unsuspecting tourists (or visiting English assistants), but there are also men who line the streets "selling cigarettes" and yelling obscenities at young women (namely us). It doesn't end there, though. Never has the phrase "Soyez Prudent" been more embedded in my mind then when I use(d) this metro stop. No matter what time of day, there is usually a line up of men waiting in front of the metro turnstiles, "selling metro tickets". In other words, they line up so you can't get through, and grab your hair, your clothes, and other parts of your body that NO stranger should ever force access to (thankfully I was wearing MANY layers), all in the hopes, that they will distract you enough to steal your wallet, phone, iPod, dignity, and whatever else they can get their hands on. And what's more, when you scream or cry because you've just been mentally and physically assaulted, they laugh hysterically. I'm REALLY not sure how this behavior is condoned in civilized society, but apparently, the Parisian police have more important things to worry about than tourists being assaulted on the metro. One officer did take some time out of his busy schedule to confirm that none of our possessions had been stolen, but that held little comfort to us when we knew there would be no consequences for the vermin awaiting their next victim(s). Needless to say, I will NOT be returning to the Friends Hostel (which is a shame, it was pretty nice as far as hostels go, and we met some cool people) or Barbés-Rouchechouart unless I have a machine gun, or at the VERY LEAST a black belt in karate.
After all of the hoopla in the metro, we headed to Charles de Gaulle Etoile to see L'Arc de Triomphe (one of my favorite monuments in Paris, despite it's unfortunate location on Le Champs Elysées) to try and recover from the shock of what we had just survived. It worked (ish). We went to the H&M on Champs Elysées, ate some McDonald's (yes, I caved), and returned to Montparnasse to return to sleepy ole' Angers. Home sweet home. Our train was delayed a little, but we made it (and will probably be reimbursed for some of our travels). All in all a learning experience, not entirely necessary, but c'est la vie.
A+
Sunday morning, we left Angers bright and early. We arrived in Paris around 10 am, bought our Paris Visite passes, and headed to our hostel. I'd read a slew of mixed reviews about our 16 euro a night hostel (for reference it cost us 15 euros to get into the Halloween party later in the night, but I'll get to that). On departing the metro, we were almost victims of an unfortunate pick-pocketing incidence, but fortunately, we all have WAY too much attitude for 8 year old thieves (I wish that could be said of their older counterparts, but I'm getting ahead of myself). After dropping our bags at the hostel, we headed for Montmartre. Maybe it's the hipster artisan in me, but I LOVE Montmartre. I don't LOVE the weirdos selling cheap souvenirs on the steps of Sacre Coeur, or the creepers who lurk, awaiting an unsuspecting tourist on which they can tie some strings and make a bracelet. But I LOVE the bohemian vibe that is IMMEDIATELY palpable within the quarter. We hung out in Montmartre for awhile, then wandered down to the Latin Quarter. Eventually, we began preparations for Halloween, which included me piling on loads of black, white, and green face paint and fake blood (I LOVE fake blood; I don't LOVE the stain it leaves on one's face after a night of partying). I believe my efforts were sufficient, because I proceeded to scare EVERYONE at the front desk at the hostel, and most of the people staying there too. Then we played some King's cup with people at the hostel (American, Australian, German, etc). Fun and headed to Pont Alexandre to a discothèque for a Halloween party by the Seine, which was pretty freakin' cool. Too bad it cost 15 euros for entrance and 10 euros for a beer. Good though that I was already pretty drunk. We danced and drank and scared people and I headed back to the hostel because I was tired.
Monday, I wasn't too hungover, but I got my lady time, so I retired to the hostel after lunch for a nap. I only missed a trip to the Eiffel Tower (seen it) and the Amélie café, but we all met up later for hangout time in our PJs in the "loft" with our new hostel friends (which turned out to be a good idea since Tuesday was SO exhausting). Tuesday morning, we woke up, got ready for the day, and checked out of the hostel. All was quiet at Barbés-Rouchechuart, lulling us into a false sense of security, but to be fair, we HAD no idea we would have to return. We headed to Montparnasse to deposit our luggage in a locker for safe keeping, while we wandered before our evening train. At brunch (café crème et une sandwich), Charlotte realized she had lost her phone. I called it to see if we heard it in her purse, but no luck. Instead, an Indian man answered, and we realized, she had left her phone at the hostel. We resolved to return later to retrieve said phone. Meanwhile, we headed to Bastille for an open air market, a vintage shop, and Le Marais. After a few hours of aimless wandering, we decided we had nothing else to do, so we should return to the hostel and retrieve Charlotte's phone. At the time, we thought nothing of it, but soon came to realize it was probably one of the worst decisions we could have made.
How to describe Barbés-Rouchechouart? First of all, it is unpronounceable. Second of all, it is quite literally the scariest place in all of Paris. Not only are there 8 year old pickpockets, waiting to scam unsuspecting tourists (or visiting English assistants), but there are also men who line the streets "selling cigarettes" and yelling obscenities at young women (namely us). It doesn't end there, though. Never has the phrase "Soyez Prudent" been more embedded in my mind then when I use(d) this metro stop. No matter what time of day, there is usually a line up of men waiting in front of the metro turnstiles, "selling metro tickets". In other words, they line up so you can't get through, and grab your hair, your clothes, and other parts of your body that NO stranger should ever force access to (thankfully I was wearing MANY layers), all in the hopes, that they will distract you enough to steal your wallet, phone, iPod, dignity, and whatever else they can get their hands on. And what's more, when you scream or cry because you've just been mentally and physically assaulted, they laugh hysterically. I'm REALLY not sure how this behavior is condoned in civilized society, but apparently, the Parisian police have more important things to worry about than tourists being assaulted on the metro. One officer did take some time out of his busy schedule to confirm that none of our possessions had been stolen, but that held little comfort to us when we knew there would be no consequences for the vermin awaiting their next victim(s). Needless to say, I will NOT be returning to the Friends Hostel (which is a shame, it was pretty nice as far as hostels go, and we met some cool people) or Barbés-Rouchechouart unless I have a machine gun, or at the VERY LEAST a black belt in karate.
After all of the hoopla in the metro, we headed to Charles de Gaulle Etoile to see L'Arc de Triomphe (one of my favorite monuments in Paris, despite it's unfortunate location on Le Champs Elysées) to try and recover from the shock of what we had just survived. It worked (ish). We went to the H&M on Champs Elysées, ate some McDonald's (yes, I caved), and returned to Montparnasse to return to sleepy ole' Angers. Home sweet home. Our train was delayed a little, but we made it (and will probably be reimbursed for some of our travels). All in all a learning experience, not entirely necessary, but c'est la vie.
A+