<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055773124144904272</id><updated>2011-10-29T13:54:22.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ryan and Amy's Excellent Adventures</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amy Black</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06901293576343011085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZA2Q7XMFPU/Tqxn8-rCGyI/AAAAAAAAAgM/HssY94yp6XY/s220/Amy%2BBlack%2BPromo%2BClose%2BUp.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055773124144904272.post-5264678593762144303</id><published>2009-07-10T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T14:11:06.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Five: Versailles, Louis XIV and a Lovers' Spat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfRh3tktpI/AAAAAAAAAUA/rPVJrOwsZBg/s1600-h/ParisRound2+078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356980661601482386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfRh3tktpI/AAAAAAAAAUA/rPVJrOwsZBg/s200/ParisRound2+078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; got to Versailles! Even though we went to bed after 3:00 a.m. this morning, we still were able to get up at a decent hour and get out of the apartment by noon. We made our way through the bustling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt; village, grabbed a few croissants for the road and walked to the metro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our experience with the metro system so far has been great (except for setting off the alarm a few night's ago and the one time that everyone had to get off and wait for five minutes before getting back on again). One thing we are impressed and a bit frightened by is the speed of the metro here. I would hate to see what would happen if they slammed on the brakes. I'm pretty confident that we would not be coming home from France for some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was our first day taking the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;RER&lt;/span&gt;, Paris' commuter rail. It's about a 30 minute ride out to the city of Versailles where the grandest palace in Europe is located. We expected to run into crowds at the Palace even though we were going late in the day. Thanks to our trusty guide of Paris we knew to get the Paris Museum Pass to avoid those killer lines. Once again, it felt great to see the LONG line for tickets and to be able to walk right into the palace. If you do plan to visit Paris and will got to a number of Museums, you will want to get this pass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfNuPbWKsI/AAAAAAAAATg/3TAYnNfj5_A/s1600-h/ParisRound2+080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356976476079401666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfNuPbWKsI/AAAAAAAAATg/3TAYnNfj5_A/s200/ParisRound2+080.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, so this palace is totally off the hook. Talk about decadence (see the hall of mirrors in the photo). But more interesting than that to us was learning about Louis X&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;IV&lt;/span&gt;, "the sun king" as he deemed himself. He was a king who did some great things for France. Ryan and I were discussing how these days, if someone rises to power it's because they have the ambition to do so. When royals ruled, there were many who didn't have the talent or the personality that it took to run a country. With Louis X&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;IV&lt;/span&gt;, this was not the case. He was very comfortable in the role and ruled for more than 70 years. During this time France was a force to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;reckoned&lt;/span&gt; with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Louis X&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;IV&lt;/span&gt; was a "poor little rich kid." As the story goes, his father died when he was a very young boy and he and his mother were treated very poorly. When he got his turn on the throne, he didn't forget this ill treatment, but instead of saying "off with their heads" he instead built Versailles to show his, and France's, power. He invited all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;royalty&lt;/span&gt; to stay there and distracted them with wealth while he ran the country as he liked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfQ9xh2jqI/AAAAAAAAAT4/2t9MDLaLzG4/s1600-h/ParisRound2+088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356980041466416802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfQ9xh2jqI/AAAAAAAAAT4/2t9MDLaLzG4/s200/ParisRound2+088.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So far, he doesn't sound like a great guy, but word is we was very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;approachable&lt;/span&gt;, even with the lower classes and that he was very well liked. He was a true &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Renaissance&lt;/span&gt; man. His confidence and wealth made the the premiere king of Europe. When people &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;referred&lt;/span&gt; to the "the king" throughout Europe, it was Louis X&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;IV&lt;/span&gt; they were talking about (one of his bed chambers to the left).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfQOxWVXlI/AAAAAAAAATw/AXeTNTPrJmQ/s1600-h/ParisRound2+087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356979233964252754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfQOxWVXlI/AAAAAAAAATw/AXeTNTPrJmQ/s200/ParisRound2+087.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ryan and I rented a golf cart to tour the gardens and the rest of the grounds. We spent more money on this that anything we've done so far. I'm going to try not to think about it too much. If we walked there's no way we could have made it to what turned out to be our favorite part of the tour -- the small village that Marie Antoinette had built.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfMayo-vlI/AAAAAAAAATY/HmW8hKLGvUk/s1600-h/ParisRound2+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356975042422816338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfMayo-vlI/AAAAAAAAATY/HmW8hKLGvUk/s200/ParisRound2+095.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the far end of this huge property is a small Chateau that Louis X&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;VI&lt;/span&gt; gave to his bride Marie Antoinette. She made it her own and spend a good deal of time there, but much more interesting was the small village that lies beyond the chateau. Marie missed her home in Austria and, it seems, longed for a a more simple life. She had a small village built complete with a working farm. There was a building that she stayed in and other small homes that workers lived in. Pretty amazing that Marie recognized the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;emptiness&lt;/span&gt; of her life in the palace. I understand her desire to live in a village like the one she created. It was peaceful and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;absolutely&lt;/span&gt; lovely. I want a village that that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that was funny about the cart we rented is that you had to stay on a specific path that was not marked. You only had a map to go on (once again a map -- our favorite). And if you did go the wrong the way, the cart would stop and a (loud) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;announcement&lt;/span&gt; would go off telling you were not going the right way. We happened to make our mistake in a very crowded area which resulted in a lots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;staring&lt;/span&gt; eyes and we put the cart in reverse and turned around. All this while the classical music that the cart plays is blaring out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When were were done with Versailles the palace, we went back into town to find a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;creperie&lt;/span&gt; we had eaten at 10 years ago. It feels like much of this vacation has been focused on looking at maps, getting confused, wondering around and then finally finding what we were looking for. That's what happened with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;creperie&lt;/span&gt; tonight. Of course, it's all about the maps. Our maps stink. : )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfLoqn1fwI/AAAAAAAAATQ/qQYX-S6DFPs/s1600-h/ParisRound2+107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356974181277073154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfLoqn1fwI/AAAAAAAAATQ/qQYX-S6DFPs/s200/ParisRound2+107.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had a traditional French crepe meal -- first a dinner crepe and then a dessert crepe and what else? Let's say it all together now...a cafe creme. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Magnifique&lt;/span&gt;. Our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;waitress&lt;/span&gt; was happy to hear we were from the US. She's the first French person who has asked us where we are from. Come to find out she is a student who plans to study in NYC (she visited and fell in love with the city). She was kind enough to snap our photo after dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfPh90CNgI/AAAAAAAAATo/DvBfgwFneik/s1600-h/ParisRound2+114.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356978464215938562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfPh90CNgI/AAAAAAAAATo/DvBfgwFneik/s200/ParisRound2+114.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As we walked back to the train Ryan (who is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;extremely&lt;/span&gt; observant) saw something we both got a kick out of. Someone had stuck a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;cigarette&lt;/span&gt; in the mouth of a ancient-looking sculpture mounted on the wall of the alley we were walking through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the ride home we got to listen to an American couple fight. The woman &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;seemed&lt;/span&gt; to be the worst, but of course we don't know the story. At one point she told her partner to stop talking and not to say another word or she would move. It went on for a while until they both were silent looking out opposite sides of the train. They were sitting across from each other. A little while into the ride, Ryan tapped my arm and I looked up to see that they were now sitting together and she was smiling at him and trying to get him to come around. Wow, that was quick. I guess no one can fight for too long in the city of love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our last adventure was a walk back through the still busy village of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt;. We each grabbed a little snack to take home with us and made our way back to the apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we are doing something different. It's our last day in Paris and we will each spend some time on our own. We will split up in the morning and go our own ways. We will each be responsible for picking up some lunch and finding our way to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Eiffel&lt;/span&gt; Tower, where we will meet for lunch and share our adventures with each other (and with you!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for bed. It's an early night for me. Only 1 a.m.! It's hard to go to bed too much earlier in a place where the sun doesn't go down until close to 10 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;revoir&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3055773124144904272-5264678593762144303?l=blacksadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5264678593762144303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/day-five-versailles-and-louis-iiv.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/5264678593762144303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/5264678593762144303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/day-five-versailles-and-louis-iiv.html' title='Day Five: Versailles, Louis XIV and a Lovers&apos; Spat'/><author><name>Amy Black</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06901293576343011085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZA2Q7XMFPU/Tqxn8-rCGyI/AAAAAAAAAgM/HssY94yp6XY/s220/Amy%2BBlack%2BPromo%2BClose%2BUp.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlfRh3tktpI/AAAAAAAAAUA/rPVJrOwsZBg/s72-c/ParisRound2+078.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055773124144904272.post-4962897176394809753</id><published>2009-07-09T16:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T18:17:36.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Four: Notre Dame, a river cruise and crepes on Ile de St. Louis</title><content type='html'>This will be my shortest post yet. A big reason is that it's 2:45 in the morning. How the heck did that happen? Ryan and I were talking about somethings, you know, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;relationship&lt;/span&gt; stuff and the time slipped away from us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we stayed out so late last night we decided to sleep in this morning. And sleep in we did. When we woke up we both guessed the time. Ryan thought it was 7 and I thought it was 9. It was actually 12:30!! By the time we got out of the apartment it was 3:30 -- not much of a day left. That's the other reason this entry is short. If yesterday was the longest day, today was the shortest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hadn't seen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Notre&lt;/span&gt; Dame yet, so we headed over that way. It was beautiful and we got to hear a bit of a mass when we got there. The Rick Steve's podcast we listened to gave us some history and asked us to imagine the church filled with peasants with the only light being what came through the stained glass windows through out the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlaUH83r7KI/AAAAAAAAATI/SOFO18mlRGU/s1600-h/DSC02179.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356631671123471522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlaUH83r7KI/AAAAAAAAATI/SOFO18mlRGU/s200/DSC02179.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After touring the inside and outside, we made our way to the location that was number one on Ryan's list--The Shakespeare and Co. book store along the Seine. This is not the original, but follows in the footsteps of the first one that was alive and kicking during the Hemingway and James Joyce days (when they lived in Paris). The owner would let "starving" writers stay in the small rooms upstairs. The current book store that was run by the same man for decades and now has been passed on to his adoptive daughter still supports struggling writers by providing them with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;opportunities&lt;/span&gt; to promote their books and a place to sleep as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlaTOu69aNI/AAAAAAAAAS4/8s_-UcTMmhs/s1600-h/DSC02180.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356630688126560466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlaTOu69aNI/AAAAAAAAAS4/8s_-UcTMmhs/s200/DSC02180.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ryan and I took a walk down by the river and passed one of the river boat companies that was running it's next tour in a half an hour. Ryan suggested we go get sandwiches and come back for the tour, which we did. I've taken one of these rides before, but it had been about 12 years. It's definitely ideal to see Paris from the water. What a great perspective. What I really loved was seeing all the people along the Seine in little clumps playing guitars, drinking wine, dancing and etc. There were so many people -- even later when it was dark. You really got a feel for how alive Paris is! Oh, and we got a close up view of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Eiffel&lt;/span&gt; Tower, which is always fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the cruise, it was time for more food! We walked over to the small island (connected by bridges) called Ilse &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; St. Louis for some delicious ice cream, a crepe and of course, cafe cremes (do you see a habit here).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlaTsUDyM3I/AAAAAAAAATA/0HgmDd9gYow/s1600-h/DSC02186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356631196311892850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlaTsUDyM3I/AAAAAAAAATA/0HgmDd9gYow/s200/DSC02186.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On our way home, we swung back by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Notre&lt;/span&gt; Dame to see it all lit up. Lovely. We stopped for a bag of french fries and this time rode the train up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt; hill (out legs are still aching!) and settled in at home with a few glasses of wine and french fries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm beginning to wonder if we will ever get to Versailles. As it's now 3:00 in the morning I think there is a very good chance we will sleep in again tomorrow. My how time flies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;revoir&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3055773124144904272-4962897176394809753?l=blacksadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4962897176394809753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/day-four-notre-dame-river-cruise-and.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/4962897176394809753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/4962897176394809753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/day-four-notre-dame-river-cruise-and.html' title='Day Four: Notre Dame, a river cruise and crepes on Ile de St. Louis'/><author><name>Amy Black</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06901293576343011085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZA2Q7XMFPU/Tqxn8-rCGyI/AAAAAAAAAgM/HssY94yp6XY/s220/Amy%2BBlack%2BPromo%2BClose%2BUp.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlaUH83r7KI/AAAAAAAAATI/SOFO18mlRGU/s72-c/DSC02179.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055773124144904272.post-5202448005506154881</id><published>2009-07-08T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T16:08:09.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paris, France: Day Three - Invalides, Napolean's Tomb, Musee D'Orsey, "movie Americain" and late night crepe eating</title><content type='html'>Wow, that's long title. But it's fitting for the LONGEST DAY EVER. Yesterday we got up wicked early at 6:30. We had the alarm set for 6:45, but some loud banging in the hallways which I suspect was the girl next door trying to get me back woke me at 6:30. The plan was to go to Versailles for the day, but upon learning the the weather wasn't going to be too agreeable we decided it was a day for museums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We bought a museum pass the other day that gets you into most of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Parisian&lt;/span&gt; museums and Versailles. The beauty of this pass is that you walk right by all those people waiting in line for tickets and immediately get into the museum. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;absolutely&lt;/span&gt; hate waiting in lines and to be able to avoid that incredible waste of time is, well, heavenly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a getting ready and throwing down a quick breakfast of granola and coffee, we headed out to one of the nearest train stations and made our way to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Invalides&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; stop. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm learning that even with three maps (yes, we are carrying three different maps of Paris) it's never as easy to find what you are looking for as you think it will be. After some discussion, Ryan and I headed in what we believed was the right direction. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;A word&lt;/span&gt; about map "discussion": the later it gets the more unpleasant this type of "discussion" gets. Trying to figure out where you are going at one in the morning after a very long day is not fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We arrived at the complex Hotel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Invalides&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and began our search for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Napoleon's&lt;/span&gt; tomb. Amazingly, we couldn't find it, so we decided to hit the WWI and WWII Museum first. I'd read about the museum and how it good it is and was excited to visit. We must have spent two or three hours there. As much as I've learned about both of these wars, I still had much more to learn. We didn't realize that WWI began because of one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;assassination&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that happened in Serbia. When you see it all unfold in front of your eyes -- from the one death to millions of deaths and the destruction of much of Europe--it's so clear how stupid war is. It doesn't make any sense. It was all for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And than, only a few decades later, the whole world was in another war. This time, I understood why the allies did what they did. Hitler is responsible for this war. I have to admit as I walked through the museum and saw the photos of the destruction, I felt anger towards Hitler and all those in Europe who went along with him during that time period. The section on the internment camps for political &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;prisoners&lt;/span&gt; and then the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;concentration&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; camps that we all know about was sobering. So sad and so wrong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;grandparents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and how they and there friends lived through and died in these wars. While my generation is aware of war, we've had no idea what it's like for the whole country to be involved like it was in WWII. It makes me respect what that "the greatest generation" went through and hope that we never have a war of that magnitude again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, that's enough of the serious stuff. We moved on from the army museum and had a little quiche (yes, real men eat quiche!) and coffee then hunted down the illusive tomb of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Napoleon&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlZvYn3XfgI/AAAAAAAAASo/OjjNPbR1pNs/s1600-h/DSC02112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356591275612536322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlZvYn3XfgI/AAAAAAAAASo/OjjNPbR1pNs/s200/DSC02112.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After being in the ground for a couple of decades, he was retrieved by the government of France (apparently his body was perfectly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;preserved&lt;/span&gt; at this point) and placed in the tomb that was visited. Get this -- if you could open it up, you would find an oak coffin, then and ebony one, two lead ones, then a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;mahogany&lt;/span&gt; one, and finally a tin one which holds the little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;emperor&lt;/span&gt;. Now that is a serious coffin, fit for a king (or a self declared &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;emperor&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlZvx9Ta6aI/AAAAAAAAASw/JxBxv6aIuXU/s1600-h/DSC02117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356591710864075170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlZvx9Ta6aI/AAAAAAAAASw/JxBxv6aIuXU/s200/DSC02117.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Next stop the Arms and Armour display. This was Ryan's personal favorite (and my least favorite). With his background in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Kendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and general interest in ancient warrior techniques, he got a real kick out of the the sets of armour and especially the swords. It is really amazing to think that people wore this stuff and fought in wars using it. Ryan showed me a few incredibly long and heavy swords and said that the trick was to beat on each other until one person got to tired to swing the sword anymore. At that point, the one with more endurance had the advantage and could run the other through. Fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;surprisingly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, after hours at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Invalides&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; complex we were too worn out to attack the Louvre so we decided to go to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Musee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;D'Orsay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; instead. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlZvBeAVsqI/AAAAAAAAASg/z8ViBYp7F5k/s1600-h/DSC02134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356590877828821666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlZvBeAVsqI/AAAAAAAAASg/z8ViBYp7F5k/s200/DSC02134.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Musee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;D'Orsay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was originally a train station and in the 1970s it was about to be destroyed by a wrecking ball. Thank goodness it wasn't, because it's a beautiful building. Now it houses much of France's 19&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; century art. While we didn't get to spend as much time as we wanted, it was amazing to see the originals of many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;impressionist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; pieces that I've own prints off or had on a mouse pad or two. We were listening to Rick Steve's free podcast tour and got a unique perspective from that. He pointed out how the realists Manet, Millet and others turned the art world on it's head and how the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;impressionist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; like Monet and Renoir really weren't accepted by the French art world for some time and were even made fun of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were kicked out of the museum. Well, not really. They were closing and we had to leave. We decided to try our luck with the bus system and waited for what we thought was the right bus. After a few stops, I realized we were going the wrong way -- no big deal. We were interested in the area of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Montparnasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and this bus was heading in that direction, so we stayed on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got off in a busy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;square&lt;/span&gt; in the heart of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Montparnasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and Ryan recognized several restaurants as ones that Hemingway had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;written&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; about in his novels (I am reading "A Movable Feast" while in Paris and Ryan has already read several times). One thing I didn't mention yet in my blogging is that Hemingway is a big part of this trip. Ryan greatly admires his writing and is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;fascinated&lt;/span&gt; with his life (although we both know that it was a sad life in many ways and didn't end well). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlZuGzmurBI/AAAAAAAAASY/K7zR3GHZA1E/s1600-h/DSC02136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356589870014704658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlZuGzmurBI/AAAAAAAAASY/K7zR3GHZA1E/s200/DSC02136.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We decided that we would walk to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Jardin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Luxembourg because wanted to see it again (we loved sitting in it and reading the last time we were here 10 years ago). One the way we found a small cafe that was on our list to try called Bread and Roses. We sat outside in the cool evening air and feasted on a large piece of quiche (more quiche!), and a soft and sweet loaf of brioche with butter and jam. And of course, we had a cafe creme.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After what we decided was dinner, we walked into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Jardin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and say for a while near the beautifully landscaped center next to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Palais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Luxembourg where the French senate meets. We wanted to see a movie (even though were were both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;exhausted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) and with our trusty Blackberry, found out that the new Johnny &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Depp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; film about John &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;Dillinger&lt;/span&gt; was playing in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Montparnasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I is called "Public Enemy" here. We walked some more (so much walking today) and bought our tickets, then stopped at a cafe and each had a glass of red wine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was fun to watch the movie surrounded by French people. Really, you just feel like you are in Boston except your the only ones speaking English.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the movie (about midnight) we stopped for a late night crepe and then hopped on the subway to head home. When we arrived at our stop (a stop we had not yet been to) we got out and began to climb winding stairs. Every time we would climb one set of stairs we would turn the corner and find another set -- this must have happened six or seven times! We were so tired and our legs were killing us. We finally arrived that the top, but couldn't figure out how to get the doors open to exit. We pushed a button that read "Sortie" (exit) only to set off an alarm. We quickly went &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;through&lt;/span&gt; he door, got a dirty look from someone behind the glass window and then made a dash for the stairs as if to not get caught.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once we made it to the street, it took a little while and some "discussion" (as I mentioned earlier) to find our way, but we did. And remember, we still have many many stairs to climb before we reach the top of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, where we are staying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Needless to say, when we got in from the longest day EVER in Paris, we decided that we would not go to Versailles tomorrow, as we had planned, but that we would sleep in as late as we could and rest our aching feet and legs. And that is what we did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3055773124144904272-5202448005506154881?l=blacksadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5202448005506154881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/paris-france-day-three-invalides.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/5202448005506154881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/5202448005506154881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/paris-france-day-three-invalides.html' title='Paris, France: Day Three - Invalides, Napolean&apos;s Tomb, Musee D&apos;Orsey, &quot;movie Americain&quot; and late night crepe eating'/><author><name>Amy Black</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06901293576343011085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZA2Q7XMFPU/Tqxn8-rCGyI/AAAAAAAAAgM/HssY94yp6XY/s220/Amy%2BBlack%2BPromo%2BClose%2BUp.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlZvYn3XfgI/AAAAAAAAASo/OjjNPbR1pNs/s72-c/DSC02112.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055773124144904272.post-8153085087466252941</id><published>2009-07-07T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T15:50:42.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paris, France: Day Two - The Left Bank</title><content type='html'>Day two in Paris is coming to a close. It's almost 11:00 p.m. and I swear the sun just went down. Crazy. We had a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will start with something rather strange that happened in the wee hours of the morning. First, remember when I wrote that it was quiet here? Well, that was not entirely true. Last night it was pretty loud. Granted we had the windows open, but still. There was yelling and a lot of traffic. The windows will be closed tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed up late because I was thrown off by the schedule. At about 2:30 a.m. I shut down the computer and decided to take a bath before bed, as there is a great tub here in the apartment. I started running the water and a few minutes later heard banging on the wall -- at 2:30 in the morning! The thought did cross my mind that maybe the bath was bothering my neighbor, but I also did think that someone might be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hammering&lt;/span&gt; -- at 2:30 in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked out in the hallway (peep hole) to see if there was any activity. There was none. I continued running my water. A few minutes later there were several loud knocks at the door and the doorbell was ringing (scary). I looked out the peep hole and a young woman was standing there with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;squinty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; eyes. I said, "Hello?" and she went on to say that she knows we just got in and we are probably jet lagged and THAT is why I'm taking a bath at 2:30 in the morning, BUT she is trying to sleep and can hear all activity in the kitchen and bathroom, so could I please stop running the water? Now that's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;communication&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I stopped running the water and had to explain to my half-asleep husband why the heck someone was ringing the door bell at 2:30 in the a.m. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Geez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Needless to say, I took a very quiet bath. No splashing and no heating things up with extra hot water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPILRd8DFI/AAAAAAAAARY/YRLww26xHqg/s1600-h/DSC02043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355844477866740818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPILRd8DFI/AAAAAAAAARY/YRLww26xHqg/s200/DSC02043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Moving on. Today we slept in (we had no idea, because there is no clock in our apt.). Ryan got up before me and made a grocery and bakery run and came back with fresh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;croissants&lt;/span&gt; and orange juice for our mimosas. After a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;leisurely&lt;/span&gt; breakfast we headed out for a metro ride to the Louvre area to walk in the Left Bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPItneuBII/AAAAAAAAARg/6D9GZz18zDo/s1600-h/DSC02078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355845067891147906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPItneuBII/AAAAAAAAARg/6D9GZz18zDo/s200/DSC02078.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Too bad we didn't realize that it was going to rain for most of the day. We got to our destination after a stuffy metro ride (see photo of Ryan) only to find that it was pouring. Our umbrella was back in the apartment. We searched the underground mall that we happened to pop up in for an umbrella with no luck. By the time we were done, the rain had subsided (only for a while). We slowly (because were were having trouble following the map) made our way to the Louvre area to start a tour that Rick Steve's recommended in his guide book of Paris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we found the Louvre (wow) which was closed today we walked through the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Tullieries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; garden with the goal of finding a small wine bar we had read about in our Eat. Shop. Paris book. The rain continued to restart every 15 minutes or so, so a cheap umbrella purchased from a local tourist shop with small and large replicas of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Eiffel&lt;/span&gt; Tower was required (and used for much of the day).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found the side street we were looking for and then the wine shop, but we didn't stay. We don't speak French at all beyond the basics and the owner of the wine bar didn't speak English and wasn't at all interested in helping us. It was a traditional place, supposedly one of the best wine bars in Paris, but it wasn't meant to be. Here's how it went down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the owner and I established that we couldn't communicate, Ryan and I began to study the food menu. We couldn't read anything on it so I took a seat (there was no one in the place) and looked the bar up online to see if I could find any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;recommendations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was doing this, a few minutes had past. The owner came out from around the bar and asked, impatiently, if we were going to order (at least I think that's what he asked). I showed him my blackberry and motioned to the menu telling him that I was trying to decide. He made a "titch titch" noise showing his annoyance and I stood up and said, "Merci" and then "Au &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;revoir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;." Clearly this was not the place for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ended&lt;/span&gt; up eating an excellent &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;sandwich&lt;/span&gt; (I'm telling you, all the food is so good here!) at a small place down the street for half the price. So it all worked out well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, we decided to take the Left Bank walk we had planned on before the rain came. The sky would go from blue with a few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;clouds&lt;/span&gt; to gray with rain, so the umbrella continued to come in handy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPJcSXNI9I/AAAAAAAAARo/P1sVn3iiiQE/s1600-h/DSC02064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355845869676340178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPJcSXNI9I/AAAAAAAAARo/P1sVn3iiiQE/s200/DSC02064.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We past the amusement area of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Tullieries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; park where the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Ferris&lt;/span&gt; wheel and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;carousel&lt;/span&gt; are, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;among&lt;/span&gt; other games and rides. We walked through the park and sat for a while near a fountain before making our way to the Seine River (see photo). We walked down the river for some time until we reached the start of our Left Bank tour which took us past a statue of Voltaire, the death place of Oscar Wilde, the first apartment author George Sands stayed in after she left her abusive husband and many other interesting spots. We saw countless art galleries and posh shops tucked away on small side streets and then we exited to a main street that is home to the famous Cafe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;duex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Magots&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (no, that's not "two maggots" it mean &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;dignitaries&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPKd3qCslI/AAAAAAAAARw/SGQzyuCcJ7s/s1600-h/DSC02067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355846996378956370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPKd3qCslI/AAAAAAAAARw/SGQzyuCcJ7s/s200/DSC02067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ryan really wanted to visit this cafe because through the years it had been host to several communities of artists, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;philosophers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;intellectuals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; whose names are well known in both Paris and America. Today it's just another cafe (there are SO MANY here) and served as a great escape from the rain. Cafe creme hit the spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPLCM6rZsI/AAAAAAAAAR4/bLG0gmeglqU/s1600-h/DSC02076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355847620561168066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPLCM6rZsI/AAAAAAAAAR4/bLG0gmeglqU/s200/DSC02076.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As we headed home, we stopped by a crepe stand in St. Germain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Pres. Ryan got the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Nutella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;banane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and I got the citron with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;sucre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. We headed down into the metro with crepes in hand to make the journey back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPNWSSz1KI/AAAAAAAAASQ/WLLT5wS5P2g/s1600-h/DSC02081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355850164625200290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPNWSSz1KI/AAAAAAAAASQ/WLLT5wS5P2g/s200/DSC02081.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As we did yesterday, today we had to climb many flights of stairs to get home. We took a few photos to document the climb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPMJ5CoBeI/AAAAAAAAASI/fUkt6tlFHVs/s1600-h/DSC02107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355848852176373218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPMJ5CoBeI/AAAAAAAAASI/fUkt6tlFHVs/s200/DSC02107.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We cooked dinner tonight to save money and we opened our first bottle of French wine that we purchased yesterday. As I write this Ryan is fast asleep on the bed and I am ready for dessert. Again, thank goodness for those stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we will either go to the Louvre or Versailles. I will wake Ryan up shortly to discuss. No doubt that he won't remember what we decided when morning comes. Once he's asleep, he's a lost cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until tomorrow, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;au&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;revoir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Ryan did wake up and we decided we will go to Versailles. I think he will remember tomorrow morning!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3055773124144904272-8153085087466252941?l=blacksadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8153085087466252941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/paris-france-day-two-left-bank.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/8153085087466252941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/8153085087466252941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/paris-france-day-two-left-bank.html' title='Paris, France: Day Two - The Left Bank'/><author><name>Amy Black</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06901293576343011085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZA2Q7XMFPU/Tqxn8-rCGyI/AAAAAAAAAgM/HssY94yp6XY/s220/Amy%2BBlack%2BPromo%2BClose%2BUp.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlPILRd8DFI/AAAAAAAAARY/YRLww26xHqg/s72-c/DSC02043.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055773124144904272.post-7636000216619440466</id><published>2009-07-06T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T16:56:27.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paris, France: Day One - Montmartre (by Amy)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We got into Paris&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;at 6 a.m.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; this morning. Ryan and I were running on a few hours of sleep (me, one and Ryan, three) because we had to leave the house in perfect condition. It's going on the market while we are gone and our fingers and toes are crossed that we will get an offer. After pulling what was almost an all-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nighter&lt;/span&gt;, amazingly, we weren't too tired when we arrived this morning. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Excitement&lt;/span&gt;, perhaps?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKAC7E9u3I/AAAAAAAAAQo/EovGEESzJSk/s1600-h/DSC02014.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKC6wJmNPI/AAAAAAAAARQ/7d9rqZfgj3w/s1600-h/DSC02018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355486852766119154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKC6wJmNPI/AAAAAAAAARQ/7d9rqZfgj3w/s200/DSC02018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After a one hour "stop and go" taxi ride into the city we arrived at our "gite" (apartment) that we are staying in for the week. It's in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montmarte"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; next to the beautiful Catholic church &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basilique_du_Sacr%C3%A9-C%C5%93ur,_Paris"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sacre&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Coeur&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;(in photo) and is at the highest point in the city. The quaint village-like area of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt; is only one minute away. It's very active in this area, even at night, but fortunately we are on a street that is nice and quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;buildings&lt;/span&gt; are beautiful here. We love the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;architecture&lt;/span&gt;. I can't help but wonder who lived in these buildings 100, 200, and 300 years ago. While the people and the city of France are modern, the old buildings make you feel like you are living in another time. I look forward to the days ahead when we will see more buildings of the past including &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Versailles"&gt;Versailles&lt;/a&gt;, the most glorious &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Chateau&lt;/span&gt; in France.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a little recap of what our day was like. We were greeted by a Parisian woman named &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Solome&lt;/span&gt; who brought us fresh bread and let us into the apartment. There was a bottle of wine and a bottle of water waiting for us there, along with a bouquet of flowers. Nice touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKAbCD6WcI/AAAAAAAAAQw/DacCY5fLlT4/s1600-h/DSC02040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355484108795042242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKAbCD6WcI/AAAAAAAAAQw/DacCY5fLlT4/s200/DSC02040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We are staying in a studio apartment and it's plenty of room for us. In fact Ryan and I were saying that we think we could live in a space like this and be satisfied (that is, until you add the dog to the equation). There is a sleigh bed that we tried out when we took a three hour nap this afternoon, two sitting chairs that face the window with a small table in between, an additional small table with two dining room chairs for meals, a VERY small kitchen in which the over and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;dishwaser&lt;/span&gt; are combined (wow) and a full bath complete with tub. It's perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKA5srwBHI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/YXjrugYTSzA/s1600-h/DSC02035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355484635632501874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKA5srwBHI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/YXjrugYTSzA/s200/DSC02035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Before that much needed nap I mentioned, we dropped our stuff at the apartment and headed out into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt; to find a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;marche&lt;/span&gt; (market). After wandering around for while (and enjoying ourselves while doing it) we found a busy street that had many shops including a natural market (excellent!) where we purchased food for the week and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;boulangerie&lt;/span&gt; (bakery) with bread and baked goods that made our mouths water profusely. We picked up our first french baguette and a chocolate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;croissant&lt;/span&gt; (yum) and made our way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Montemartre&lt;/span&gt; is it's very hilly. We are thinking this is a good thing considering how much food we will eat while here. We will need the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;exercise&lt;/span&gt; if we don't want to become fat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Americans&lt;/span&gt;. We seem to pick vacation spots where we have to climb hills to get from dinner to our temporary home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After shopping (did I mention how fun it was to buy french groceries?) we came back ate bread and jam and drank coffee then curled up and took a three hour (or more) nap --WITH the ceiling to floor windows wide open revealing a bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds floating by. We are on the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; floor of our building and are higher than the building across the street so we can see sections of Paris from our room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a nap and a refreshing shower (and a little guitar playing on my part -- I brought a small guitar to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;pratice&lt;/span&gt; on while here), we headed out to find the nearest metro and to finish exploring our area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did venture over to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Pigalle&lt;/span&gt; (the red light district). It was early in the evening, so it wasn't too crazy. But all the sex shops and etc. are not our cup of tea and after we got a glimpse of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Moulin&lt;/span&gt; Rouge building we headed back to our area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKBo5dTM6I/AAAAAAAAARA/tY54L-USB2U/s1600-h/DSC02019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355485446515405730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKBo5dTM6I/AAAAAAAAARA/tY54L-USB2U/s200/DSC02019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The idea had been to eat at "home" tonight. We are doing that as much as possible -- at least that is the plan. But we stayed out too long, were hungry and ran into a little restaurant that we had read about called Le &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Progrese&lt;/span&gt; and decided that we would have dinner out our first night in Paris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat outside and ordered a carafe of wine. I have to admit that I've got to adjust to the lack of personal space here. People have no problem sitting very close to you and/or putting there stuff practically in your lap. And then there is the smoking. I think people here still think it's cool to smoke, because I saw a lot of "cool" people doing it. What's not fun is when the wind is blowing their smoke right in your face. But I got used to it and had a great time at dinner. I'm sure the wine helped. : )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKCDMcG4DI/AAAAAAAAARI/1lPqA098IMM/s1600-h/DSC02023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355485898287276082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKCDMcG4DI/AAAAAAAAARI/1lPqA098IMM/s200/DSC02023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After dinner, we decided that we needed a good cup of cafe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;au&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;lait&lt;/span&gt; (love the coffee here!) and we went into the little village area of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt; where we found a corner cafe and had our coffee and a crepe with vanilla ice cream (that's me in the black sweater). Why is it that everything tastes better over here. Is it really better or just my imagination?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Montmartre&lt;/span&gt; village area was buzzing tonight. People speaking many different languages walking together in clumps, German teenagers chasing each other and calling our "halt", American college students drinking wine from coffee mugs as they stroll the streets and street artists bent on sketching you (some of them are quite good actually) all made up the scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a quick walk over to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Sacre&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Coeur&lt;/span&gt; to see Paris at night, Ryan and I headed back to the room to call it a day. I'll confess that our eating still hasn't stopped. Right now I'm drinking a cup of coffee that Ryan made as he works on perfecting his French coffee making abilities. I'm also eating a small chocolate baked good I picked up from the bakery today. Thank goodness for those stairs. I'm going to need them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;revoir&lt;/span&gt; for now. Tomorrow we will have more tales to tell. I'm sure when Ryan jumps on and takes his turn he will do more than just give an account of the day. No pressure of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Click on any of the photos in this post to see larger versions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S. Here's a great blog post on Montmartre if you want to see more photos &lt;a href="http://parisconnected.wordpress.com/2008/01/04/paris-montmartre-for-newcomers/"&gt;http://parisconnected.wordpress.com/2008/01/04/paris-montmartre-for-newcomers/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3055773124144904272-7636000216619440466?l=blacksadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7636000216619440466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/paris-france-day-one-montmarte.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/7636000216619440466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3055773124144904272/posts/default/7636000216619440466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blacksadventures.blogspot.com/2009/07/paris-france-day-one-montmarte.html' title='Paris, France: Day One - Montmartre (by Amy)'/><author><name>Amy Black</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06901293576343011085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZA2Q7XMFPU/Tqxn8-rCGyI/AAAAAAAAAgM/HssY94yp6XY/s220/Amy%2BBlack%2BPromo%2BClose%2BUp.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M1Z88C8GX0o/SlKC6wJmNPI/AAAAAAAAARQ/7d9rqZfgj3w/s72-c/DSC02018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
