Paris:- Paris

Here we are now - Paris. I remember reading the Introduction to the Paris guidebook I got, and it made a very poinent comment about travel writing. It basically read that everything that there is to say about Paris, has been said. Many times. By many different people. So if far better writers than me have written about Paris both before me, what makes me still write about it? Cause I can :-P

> -----Original Message-----
> From: Geoffrey Campey
> Sent: Thursday, 15 January 2004 11:17 AM
> To: Almost evri1
> Subject: Paris: Baguettes, Police and Tear Gas
>
> Hello again all,
>
> I have been copping a bit of flack in the past week
> for not writing about Paris and/or NYE and/or London.
>
> As I have said previously, I am travelling to see
> other countries and meet their people and drink their
> alcohol, not to spend my time in their internet cafes.
> I really do appreciate everyone writing back, and I
> will eventually get around to responding to everyone,
> once my life becomes slightly stable (and i am not
> paying $2.30/hr for internet access).
>
> [Langauge warning: Geoffrey sucks at spelling in
> English, so there is no way in hell he is going to
> make any claims to his ability to spell weird french
> stuff correctly. You have been warned. And yes, it is
> "weird french stuff" before any comments.]
>
> Anyway, Paris. Here are a few random thoughts about
> Paris:
>
> The city of luuuuvvvvveeee. French people. Tear Gas.
> Fresh croissants. Riot police. History. Lack of public
> toilets. Hawkers. American Tourists. Art Galleries.
> Sore feet. Vodka.
>
> Here are the stories that will hopefully explain these
> thoughts.
>
> So I left Amsterdam and its colourful lifestyle behind
> on the Thalys, a high-speed train service to Paris.
> Now when they say high-speed, we are talking
> high-speed. 280km/h. Now that is the speed that
> inter-city train services should work here in
> Australia. 4 hours, 3 countries. Not a bad average.
> With a train service like that, you out sydneys second
> airport in Cairns and people wouldn't notice much
> difference.
>
> The train trip was made interesting by the
> conversation I had with the Isreali guy that was
> sitting oppersite me. He had just finished his
> national service (3 years worth) and was travelling
> Europe looking for inspiration as to what he was going
> to do with the rest of his life. I was looking for an
> insight into the life of the average conscript IDF
> grunt working on the frontlines of the Palestinian
> refugee camps. (Un)fortunately his dad is the
> ambassador to France for Isreal, so he was safely
> installed as a clerk in the office of a general in Tel
> Aviv. Not to shabby a life apparently. Anyway, one
> intersting piece of information that is that Isreal is
> a pretty modern place - they have no problem
> conscripting their daughters to go and take a bullet
> in the West Bank for "national service" (although they
> only have to do 2 years). The lesson here: previously
> I thought the only jewish girls you don't f**k with
> were the ones from Brooklyn. I think a safer policy is
> not to f**k with any of them :)
>
> One thing I am really glad that I did in my youth was
> be in the cubs and scouts. The motto - be prepared -
> is a really good mantra in life, and getting of a
> train in Gare de Nord is a situation in which this
> mantra especially holds true. Being able to walk out
> into the main area of the station, find the sign that
> points to where you want to go, and go there like you
> have a purpose is a really good thing. The people who
> stand around looking thoroughly out of their depth,
> looking for a french person who speaks anglais, trying
> to figure out where the hell they are going and all
> the time being pestered by hawkers trying to sell the
> sh*t (taxis, hotel rooms, souvenier Eiffell Towers
> etc.) are a really worrisome sight. Do these people
> not understand about using the 4 hour train trip to
> read ahead and know that they have to get onto the #4
> metro line in the direction of Porte de Auguste and
> get off at Pigalle? How do these people survive? I am
> guessing that their autonomic nervous systems are the
> smartest part of their brains, because somehow they
> manage to keep breathing!
>
> I was joined in Paris by Mark, a mate from home who
> has been living in London for the last couple of
> months. Mark is very much my antithesis: sensible,
> rational, reserved and thinks that a good trip is one
> in which you don't get to know the local police. Which
> was kind of amusing because he left me to book the
> accommodation - the Peace and Love Hostel :)
>
> Yeah baby! Although it sounds pretty dodgy, it was
> actually a really nice hostel, cleaned everyday,
> relatvely cheap and the bar downstairs was always a
> fun place to hang out (even if it was filled with
> cigarette smoke - it is paris after all). I spent many
> hours sitting on a bar stool, trying to learn some
> more french and drinking vodka shots with Roman, the
> russain bar tender who is only staying in paris as
> until he gets to old for national service.
>
> As for Paris, what is to say that hasn't been said a
> thousand times before, a thousand times better. Its
> big. Its busy. Its old. Its charming. Its cold in
> winter. The one thing that I really don't understand
> is "the magic". The number of people who fall in love
> with Paris astounds me, mainly for the fact that I
> didn't. Don't get me wrong - it is a really nice
> place, and I could have happily spent another month
> there, just discovering the place. But the city and
> me, there just wasn't any chemistry. New York will be
> happy, she is the city that I love, and Paris wasn't
> able to steal me away from her.
>
> New Years - as with last year, we went on a
> reconnisance mission early on new years eve to find
> out where we were going and what we were going to do.
> We had a choice between the Champs Elysee, and the
> Eiffell Tower. We settled on the Eiffel Tower, mainly
> because there were seats there. Ended up probably
> being a good choice. We scored a bench to sit on,
> proceeded to drink lots of vodka (just to keep warm,
> for no other reason :) and then get into the party
> mode. At about 10:30pm, the vodka was happy that it
> had done its work and was ready to leave, so I begin
> running around the Palais de Challiot trying to find a
> public toilet. I didn't find one, but I found out
> three really interestig pieces of information:
>
> 1) Paris has no public toilets open after 8pm, even on
> NYE.
> 2) It's okay urinate on national monuments, as long as
> the police tell you its okay.
> 3) It is routine to pass out the riot gear to police
> at 11pm on NYE in Paris.
>
> To point 2, I say, there is something cool about
> urinating on a palace that was previously the home of
> the french monachy. Maybe its just the aussie in me,
> but I can only hope that later on, I get the same
> chance with Buckingham Palace.
>
> To point 3, I say, maybe should have thought about
> this one a little more deeply.
>
> So when I get back to our seat, I discover mark, in a
> style that isn't normally his (Richard, I am looking
> at you here), he has picked up. And he wasn't just
> content on picking up one girl; he got her, her
> brother and his two kids, and their parents. Mark you
> dawg! They were from Paris, originally from Alergia
> which made for some interesting conversations. Okay,
> that is a bit of an overstatement. The brother spoke
> very good anglais, but the father didn't, but had a
> great time in trying to talk to me even though my
> french consists of the words I picked up from "Moulin
> Rouge".
>
> So midnite comes, the champagne is popped (and yes, it
> was bloody champagne, from the champagne region!
> bought for the bargin price of 16 euro at the local
> supermarket! was pretty good too, particularly
> straight from the bottle :) anyway, we said "bonne
> annee" (happy new year) a few hundred times, guzzeled
> the bubbly and watched the turn off the lights on the
> tower (which was pretty weird, I am hoping my photo
> turned out). We then headed off to the Champs Elysee,
> to see what was going on and drink us some more
> champagne (hopefully somebody else's, cause we were
> out). Anyway, we walked down the road onto the Place
> de Charles De Gaulle, which is where the Arc de
> Triomphe is. Now, as some of you may have seen in
> National Lampoons Eurpoean Vaction, the Arc de
> Triomphe is pretty much a big roundabout, with 12
> roads leading into it (on being the Champs Elysee),
> and apparently none going out, and the cars just going
> somewhere. [Legal Notice: This previous comment in no
> way may be taken as a confession that Geoffrey has
> viewed, in part or in entirety, the movie "National
> Lampoons European Vaction" and cannot be used as
> evidence to such an assertion, should he be charged
> with the crime of bad taste in films.] So there are
> about a thousand cars all driving around this
> roundabout, people hanging out, stereos blasting out
> (too many of them with Eminem on actually) and lots of
> followers of the New York cukt of random car-horn
> blowing. Madness. Very fun!
>
> Anyway, as mark and I walked around the roundabout to
> the Champs Elysee, I notice a smoky haze hanging over
> the street, and my eyes start to water and nose itch
> and a peppery taste in my mouth. I start having
> flashbacks to a protest gone wrong, and the awareness
> dawns on me: tear gas! Cool! what the hell is going
> on? So we continue on and discover lots of police now
> wearing their riot gear (informaion bit number 3
> clicks into place) with tear gas slowly disappating
> and the Champs Elysee blocked off as they try to
> disperse the crowd. We were later to discover that
> indeed a riot had broken out just after midnite, with
> people break shop windows and looting. Bonne Annee! I
> got the camera out and took a few photos and was
> thoroughly impressed that i hd been tear gassed on NYD
> in Paris. It was only after taking a few happy snaps
> that I turn around to find mark writhing in agony
> because he is a big wuss and the tear gas was getting
> to him pretty bad. It's at this point that I came up
> with an idea for my new profession (being an
> umemployed bum and all) - professional protester/riot
> inciter. I plan on getting into contact with those
> people who organise the riots at the World Trade
> Organisation meetings and offer my services. Should be
> fun, and I know Faithless has a new album coming out
> this year, so I may end up on the front of that if I
> ply my new trade well.
>
> Anyway, so we finally get on the train, mark recovers
> and we get back to the hostel. Mark retires to bed,
> and I stay in the bar, drinking more vodka,
> vapourlocks and tequila shots. And it was worth it,
> cause at 9am, it starts to snow! Snow! Can I say that
> again? SNOW! I love snow! :) So I am out in the
> street, letting snow fall onto my tongue (actually, i
> think it was melting with the alcohol on my breath
> before it reached my mouth, but i couldn't tell the
> difference at that point in time). At some point it
> occurred to me that if I was going to be on the median
> strip in one of the busiest intersections of Paris on
> NYD, why shouldn't I be nice to the drivers and start
> directing traffic. And so I did. And it was a lot of
> fun. Until I held up my hand to stop a police van.
> Then they stopped in the middle of the road (causing
> quite a bit of chaos, which wouldn't have happened if
> they just followed my directions) and told me in that
> oh-so-polite-french-way that my assistance in ensuring
> the smooth flow of traffic through paris was greatly
> appreciated and that I should retire into the warmth
> of my hostel. That was very nice of them, caring about
> my health so much. So I retired to the bar, my days as
> a traffic cop over, and proceeded to drink lots of
> coffee before heading off to bed at midday. Lets just
> say that was the last that I saw of New Years Day :)
>
> As for the rest of Paris, there are some amazing
> places to go and see; the galleries are magnificant
> (but get there before opening time and you might get
> in), Napolean's tomb is pretty awe-inspiring
> (befitting the resident i guess) and Notre Dame is a
> beautiful catherdral (unfortunately the American
> tourists taking photos of the mass currently underway,
> and not understanding what the english term "Quiet
> please" means was a bit shameful) I guess that's what
> the french get for helping them out. Bloody traitors.
>
> One of the more interesting aspects of my time in
> paris was taking the metro out to the Grande Arche.
> This is a building made in the proportions of a cube,
> hollowed out and aligned with the axis of Paris (the
> Arc de Triomphe, Place de Concorde and Lourve are all
> in line with it, making for a nice photo in summer).
> Was a really special building, and generally off the
> tourist route which offered a little peace and quiet.
> The gallery in the top had an excellent exhibition by
> the Paris Artists Association, and there were several
> works there that I would have loved to have bought.
> The other fun bit of this trip was that when I got
> back onto the metro, I thought, "bugger it, I am going
> to go to the last stop on this line". So i ended up in
> the eastern suburbs of paris. was again very much off
> the tourist beat, with locals out walking the dog and
> jogging, kids playing in the park and some local guys
> playing football (of which I joined in and played
> (really badly) for about 20 minutes). Was really nice
> to get away from the normal tourist sights and to see
> Paris, the place where people live and work.
>
> So that was six days in Paris. I had really sore feet
> from lots and lots of walking (need to lose about 20
> kilos I think) and was really happy that I had made
> the trip.
>
> Paris finished off my little sojourn - New Years Eve
> in Sydney, New York, London, Paris over four
> consecutive years. Over that time I have made lots of
> friends, been blessed with losts of great memories,
> and consumed lots of vodka. Thanks to all those people
> who have shared this little trip with me, you are what
> have made this a fun time. Particular thanks go to
> Mark, who made 3 out of four (New York the only
> exception) and Lisa and Richard, who made 2 out of
> four (Sydney and London).
>
> This has been another epic email, thanks to those who
> have gotten through this far. I will send another
> email shortly to update what has happened since Paris.
> Hope you are all well and had a great New Years
> yourselves.
>
> Lots of love,
> Geoffrey
>
>

One thing that I forgot to mention in this email that I nearly died with laughter over was the following sign located in the George Pompidou Centre, which houses an extensive collection of contemporary art. This sign is open to so many interpretations - some of the ones that ran through my head while nearly dying with laughter were:

1. Wheelchair users should take care that they are not being chased by large white squiggle things (it is a contemporary art gallery!)

2. Wheelchair users will be incinerated whilst using this exit.

3. Patrons please be avised that wheelchair uses are known to exceed speed limits when in this area. Flames may be following them.

Maybe I am guess twisted. Ok, so I am twisted. But I can think of a few people who will visit this site that will be sitting there with a smirk on their face (yes Julien Wicks, that means you).

There are more assorted photos in the Gallery section

Aurevior NYE Escapades!