The dread of leaving was because of the hassle of lugging our bags down three flights of spiral staircase; dragging our luggage across cobblestone streets; getting our rental car out of the parking garage and finding the Enterprise Rental Agency, all in time to make our train to Paris. It wasn’t fun but we made it to Enterprise without a hitch. We got an Uber and we were at the train station so early that there was another train headed to Paris before our scheduled one. I checked in with the man at the station counter and he said our ticket was good for any train to Paris today. So we opted to take the earlier train. We were waiting on platform 2 with all our luggage with time to spare.
The train arrived early and Gayle and I rushed in hoping to find a place to store our luggage. We found what we thought was the perfect place next to seats that you fold down like a jump seat on a plane. Just as we were about to settle in Gayle said, “Where’s my backpack?” We looked out the window and there it was, all by itself on the train platform. The door to the train was already closed. She ran for the door. (I haven’t seen her move that fast for several years!). She opened the door and a man with a bicycle held it open for her while she ran. Once I saw she was going to get back on the train with her backpack I decided to sit down. Only I didn’t fold my seat down and I slid right down the wall and onto the floor. Gayle came rushing onto the train to find her sister on her back in the middle of the dirty train car. The man and woman seated near us just laughed. I said helplessly, “I have bad knees and can’t get up easily.” Of course, no French speaker knew what I was saying. But a man across the aisle jumped up and pulled me to my feet. I was mortified by how out of control I felt. Then Gayle and I looked at each other and started giggling. It was like some bad slapstick movie.
We settled down to try and regain some self-respect when the bicyclist, who had held the train car door for Gayle, said, “I need that spot to park my bike.” Of course, we had missed the bicycle logo on the window. The man who had gotten me off the floor, the bicyclist, Gayle and I all worked together to make it work. We sat down across from our luggage this time. (Yes, I did remember to lower my seat before attempting to sit down this time.) We didn’t make eye contact with the laughing man and woman who kept whispering to each other. I was so glad when that train ride was over. I think I am old enough to get first class train tickets from now on. I am assuming they help with luggage and the seats don’t fold down like a jump seat.
We took a taxi from the train station in Paris to our AirBnB in Marais. The host is a kind and responsive man named Pablo. He assured us we could check in early and apologized for the construction going on in the building. We didn’t know what he meant about the construction. We were sure we would arrive to find the elevator out of commission. Once we got through the two security doors we found an elevator in working order. It is smaller than a phone booth. We took turns getting to the second floor.
The apartment is designed like an RV and just about the same size. It is a good thing Gayle and I like each other. It will be a cozy four days. By the time we arrived we were hungry and so we did a Google search and the most highly rated food real close by was a burger place. We ordered well done burgers from their window and came back to our apartment to eat them. They were raw….I mean raw. We managed a couple bites and then threw them away and ate the cherries I had purchased while we waited for our burgers.
We are on Rue Rambuteau right next to the George Pompidou Center.
It is a happening street. Everything we really need (and some things we don’t need) are within feet of our front door. Right next to our apartment is LeGay Artisan Boulangerie, where you can purchase different kinds of croissant pastries shaped like very large penises and balls.
At this point in our adventure we are both exhausted. We each took a long nap on our very firm bed. We ate dinner at a restaurant across from the entrance to Sainte Chapelle (Holy Chapel) where we had tickets for an evening piano concert. Gayle could eat Burrata and tomatoes for every meal. While we were studying our tickets for the concert the Maitre’d came over and said, “I will bring you the champagne.” We said, “We didn’t order champagne.” He pointed to our tickets and said you got tickets that include a glass of champagne before or after the concert. As we enjoying our drinks, Gayle looked up with a big smile on her face and said hello. I turned to see who she could possibly know in Paris. It was Brett. He is spending one night in Paris before he flies home in the morning. He tracked me on my iPhone and showed up to say hi. What a sweetie! We had a few precious moments together before we headed over to join the queue for the concert.
Sainte Chapelle is in the same complex as the Palais de Justice where the Supreme Court of France meets. Security is tight to get in. After we were thoroughly checked we made our way to the sanctuary of Sainte Chapelle. I have been there twice before but I am still mesmerized by its beauty.
It feels like a structure created just to hold the stained glass in place.
Every seat was taken. The seats were crammed together and extremely uncomfortable. For a little over an hour we listened to a masterful pianist play Mozart, Bach and Vivaldi. In this gorgeous chapel we listened to glorious music, while sitting in torturous seats. Every time the pianist finished a piece there was a synchronized movement of the whole audience trying to find a way to allow their backs to make it through until the end of the next song. After the concert, Gayle and I walked down to the Seine. We needed to move our bodies. We arrived just as the sun was sinking below the horizon.
The sun reflected on the glass of Norte Dame.
We are eager to explore more of Paris tomorrow.
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