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Well
folks, this week’s article is a form of a travel log or whatever you call it
from Paris. As in France. As in across the pond. Several months ago, I decided a
nice thing to do would be to plan a trip for our anniversary. So, I got on the
net and started looking for deals. Found several and took the one that seemed
the best……I won’t foul this up by telling you the problems with going over
and coming back since I’m trying to be positive this time around. All I can
say is that this will be my last time to fly in the rear of the plane with all
of the other cattle.
If I have to get a job picking up
cans along the highway to be able to afford to move into business class, then
I’ll have to do so. I just can’t ride back there ever again. I think I’m
just too old. Anyway, I’ve always heard stories about the French. They are
rude. They don’t like Americans. They get mad if you don’t speak their
language. The place is dirty. So on and so on. Well, let me tell you right off,
that my experience (for what it’s worth) was anything but what I just wrote.
They were friendly. The streets were clean. The sidewalks were washed down every
morning. I don’t have any idea where they put their trash, since I never saw a
Dumpster. They weren’t on the streets or in any of the alleys that we passed.
Not one person acted like I offended them by me speaking English.
The first person I said .."Bon
Jour" to, looked at me and said…"You aren’t from around here, are
you?" Mostly I pointed and asked if they spoke English. Of course, we all
know some French that might be of use. Words like French onion soup, French
green beans, French bread and of course the all time favorite…French-fries.
You can always order food, but may have a problem if you need a bathroom at some
time or another. About the only people we found that didn’t speak English were
the cab drivers. But then, they don’t speak English anywhere anyway. If you
are in New York, all of the taxi drivers are from Turkey. If you are in Turkey,
then they come from France. If you’re in France they come from, who knows? I
think it’s some kind of international trade agreement that says that native
born drivers must be transferred to some other country every 6 months or so. You
get into a cab in any part of the world and you take your chances.
Anyway, the food was not just great,
it was wonderful. These people know how to eat. They are not in any hurry. They
don’t have fast food. A meal is a time to relax, talk and watch other people.
I could understand everything on the menus, because they always brought me an
English menu. I still don’t eat sweetbreads no matter where I am. These are
nasty in any country; I don’t care what you say. You want escargot? You just
ask for snails. That’s what they call them…not escargot. Things to see? You
bet! This place is old. In the US of A things that are 150-200 years old impress
us. Over there? I think they have fruitcakes older that that. So much to see in
so little time.
Our hotel was right in the middle of
everything, so we could walk to see most of the sights. We walked to it all.
About the only thing we didn’t see was the Louvre. We went, got inside and
stopped. This place is 600 years old. About 4 or 5 city blocks of stuff. Try to
imagine a really, really big store room. I heard that they kept their wives in
one side and their girl friends in another. I think they kept their Mother in
Laws in another building as far away as possible. These people were thinkers.
Just imagine that this was someone’s house at one time. I’d hate to have
their electric or candle bill. They had to have some help in keeping this place
clean. Just thinking about buying Christmas presents for the staff gives me a
headache. Really hard to believe that people actually lived here. It’s about
500 yards from the front door to what I guess was the driveway. You’d be tired
out just going out to get the paper every morning. Totally impossible to see at
one time. We were to one of their restaurants, ordered lunch and kind of thought
out what we’d like to see when we come back. Just too big to try and rush. If
you’ve been to the Smithsonian in Washington, you kind of have an idea of what
I mean. You’re brain dead by the time you get through a day. Napoleon had a
big influence on the way things are in Paris.
For example, in the middle of a
traffic circle in downtown is a giant piece of stone called an obelisk. Old
Nappy brought it back from Egypt. I’m sure Josephine wanted it for her living
room as a sort of conversation piece, but probably decided against when she saw
how big it was. On the sides of the base are carvings of how they were able to
get it from wherever they took it from and then onto a barge and shipped back to
France. Then of course, they had to reverse the process and move it to its
present location. The Egyptians haven’t asked for it back, since they’d have
to pay for shipping and probably could care less. I can’t imagine why he’d
want it in the first place. As I understand the carvings on it, I believe it’s
the 400BC equivalent of a billboard. I think this one is advertising a used
chariot sale and the upcoming Sahara Marathon. But then what do I know? I
can’t read or understand their language either.
As usual comments go to www.pearyperry.com.
Complaints can be sent to me in French. I’ll translate according to how I
feel.
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