Paris le 3eme

I begin my final full day in Paris in a fairly shocking manner. All throughout my trip thus far I had been getting stares and dirty looks from the locals because of my big chops. Combining that with the hot weather, and the cheek sweat, I decide with razor in hand to do something drastic (sorry Jazzy, and you can thank me later mom!). I finish removing my sideburns and see someone five years my junior staring back at me in the mirror. They'll be back, but for the rest of the trip, its sans favoris.


I scarf down my continental breakfast and make my way to the Louvre. It's the first Sunday of the month, which means that it and almost every other museum in the city is free. That being the case, its totally teeming with other budget minded foreigners and locals. This museum is absolutely humongous, and I suspect that if you just wanted to walk through the entire thing, without even stopping to look at any of the works it would take about 6 hours. Since I don't have the legs or the stamina to do that, I use the map to seek out some of the star attractions. In the basement I explore the dungeon and part of the original palace of Louis the XV (I think). Its neat to see the meshing of the old and the new (same with the glass pyrimidial?? entrance jutting out from old world concrete).







From there I see the Venus Di Milo, in and amongst tons of other marble statues and busts. The problem with this place is that it is just teeming with great pieces, and you end up with sensory overload. I see the 200+ carrat crown jewels of the king, and napoleon the III's apartment. I pass through some massive and massively vulgar religious paintings and frescoes. I really enjoy the winged victory of the samothrace, and am a little underwhelmed by the mona lisa. Its so packed I can only get within about 15 feet, and I'm surprised at how small it actually is. They put it on display by its self on a huge 40 foot wall which only emphasizes the size disparity for me.

I slowly make my way back to the hostel and soak up as much of the parisian streets and buildings as I can, pick up my bags and head for the train station. It's my first eurail pass experience and I want to make sure I have lots of time to avoid any screwups or hassles. It was a relatively simple procedure to get my pass validated, and stamped and I board the train feeling much relieved. I find my first class couchette compartment and am greeted by this very sweet, and just as friendly old italian couple. We break the language divide by moving to neutral french, and he tells me how he works in Paris, and lives in a tiny village in the north of italy. I offer them some of my baguette, but they politely refuse, and we chat a little about the EU and its recent monetary slump, which has helped me to stretch my canadian dollar a cent or two further. I watch the vineyards and small villages built into hills zoom past me, and after about an hour we rise from our seats and set up the couchettes. The wife heads for the bathroom, at which point the husband informs me to watch out because she snores. After the hostel I just stayed in, I feel I can sleep in just about any situation now so I remain unphased by the comment. I write from my top bunk, while the couple drifts off to sleep. Even though the noise isn't a factor I still toss and turn and get very little sleep that evening. I'm stirred awake at 5am, as the old couple are now at their destination. We say our goodbyes, and I try and catch another hour or so of restless slumber, before I awake to similar little villages and vineyards nestled into the Italian countryside.


At 10am, I exit the climatized train and the heat of Rome smacks me right in the face.