The Inaccurate Tourist

60. Little Cousin

Kendra used to be my little cousin. Now, she's legally an adult and (having graduated from high school) is bumming around Europe with her friend Brenda.

Day 1 : Kendra and Brenda

I picked up my little cousin Kendra and her friend Brenda at the airport on Sunday. I've generally stopped meeting guests at the airport, since millions of people a year manage to find their way into the city each year -- even non-Canadians! This is a special case because I was excited to see Kendra, and I knew her mom and my mom would be more comfortable if I met them at the airport.

To be sure I got there in time, I left my place a half hour earlier than I normally would. And of course, there was a little snag. If I'm meeting you at the airport, make sure you tell me the correct terminal!

But we got into Paris safely, and they set up at my place. We ate lunch, and went right out into the city.

We picked up everything necessary for their carte d'orange next week, and took the métro out to St. Michel for some first day sightseeing. We walked by the fountain, through the Latin Quarter and to Notre Dame, where Kendra was robbed for the first time.

A woman asked her if she spoke English and asked Kendra to change her two tens into a twenty euro bill. Of course, she took the bill and walked away while another woman jumped in to occupy Kendra and Brenda, wailing and waving a photo of her ailing and poor family in their faces. It was very well choreographed, it happened very quickly and it might have worked if there weren't three of us.

I'm naturally more suspicious (especially as soon as the woman asked if they spoke English, which is another way of asking if you are a foreigner). When she stepped back, I grabbed her arm after two steps and told her to give back the twenty euro bill now. She got out her own photo of her ailing and poor family and starting wailing "please, please, please". There's a particular tone of voice for pleading desperately for the health and safety of your poor family. It's carefully learned and performed for you. There's no way any practiced wail was getting away with twenty euro.

I told Kendra and Brenda to find some police or security and bring them back. They left and the horrible woman gave me back the twenty euro and fled when I let go of her. She was trying to sell a bit of the confidence and fellowship among strangers for twenty euro, but she ended up giving it away for free. No harm done (to us) and a valuable lesson learnt.

Then we went around Notre Dame, to that one bridge that the rollerbladers are always performing tricks on, then to the Deportation Monument, the Hotel de Ville, down the new beach on the Seine, up to the Panorama at the Samaritaine (closed), to the Louvre to rest our feet in the fountains beside the Pyramid, to the little Arc de Triomphe de Carroussel, through the Tuilerie Gardens, up to the Obelisk, down the Champs-Elysée towards the stands for the Tour de France tomorrow and then to the metro beside the Grande Palace, which is nearly finished being restored.

Kendra: Paris is exciting but tiring.

Brenda: Amazing! But tiring.

Day 2 : Kendra and Brenda

The next day was the final stage of the Tour de France, but we had plenty of time to go check out Montmartre before meeting Antonio and Anna.

So we packed a picnic lunch, and headed out. Brenda planned the metro route. I took the tourist guide for once, because I've done this walk several times but without ever really knowing what and who I was looking at.

We saw the workshops and cafés and hotels that Picasso, Toulouse-Lautrec, Utrillo, Monet, Cézanne, Renoir, Dali and Zola -- at least those are the names that I recognized. There were quite a few other that I wasn't familiar with (but the guide book smugly told me about) and I imagine that hundreds of other Belle Epoque artists and geniuses crowded into the same cafés without making a big name.

We passed by the métro Abbesses with its original Hector Guimard Art Nouveau entrance and walked up into Place des Tertres, the bustling café square lined with painters.

There's a dirty secret for the majority of oil paintings sold in the tourist shops -- they're mass-painted in foreign assembly lines. One person does the Eiffel tower, another the trees, another the Haussman buildings, and another some strolling people.

You're likely to see paintings of better quality at Place des Tertres, although admittedly the painters know their audience. There are plenty of tired Eiffel Towers, charming (but weary) boulangeries, looming Basilicas de Sacre-Coeurs. It makes perfect sense -- Montmartre is still a lively and charming area, but no longer a place to launch a bold and daring artistic movement.

However, I smiled at a lovely young lady who was getting an astonishingly accurate portrait despite her giggling. The cut-out artists were doing too brisk a business doing their silhouettes to solicit us.

We went through the Église St Pierre-de-Montmartre (one of the oldest churches in the city, started in 1134, which is "hell" upside down -- please tell me I'm not the only person to always notice that). There are ancient Romanesque columns inside, just beside the doors. I always like to point them out, because of their age. They're old.

Then we went through to the Basilica du Sacré Coeur, and looked at the view. We ate our picnic sandwiches and cookies on the lawn just below the church. It was a beautiful sunny day.

Anyway, our next stop was the Tour de France. The bikes were coming up along the side of the Louvre, rue Rivoli, so we met Antonio and Anna at the glass pyramid in the Louvre court, and walked to the corner where the bikers would loop eight times.

After a few of the loops, we got tired and wanted to leave, but the corner had sealed itself off with people and we couldn't go home. A few loops later, we managed it and went home early and rest before going out.

That night, we went to the Eiffel Tower to see it sparkle. We enjoyed a bottle of Alsatian Crémant on the lawn beneath the tower. Hooray for France!

Day 3 : Kendra and Brenda

It was looking grey and dreary, so I decided to do the tour up by the Opera and the grands magasins. Unlike the Samaritaine, Au Printemps still has its terrace open (even if you aren't a café customer). Then we checked out the glass dome over their restaurant.

Kendra caught heck for trying to photograph a Prada display (although nobody stopped her from photographing the Helmut Lang display).

We also checked out the dome at Galleries Lafayette, which is a bit nicer.

We ate our sandwiches today on the steps of the Opera, and then checked out the interior. I suggested buying tickets to the ballet so that they could see the interior, but all performances were finished until September. It looks like they'll have to take the tour if they want to see inside.

Anyway, we walked between the Opera and Les Halles, and went into the old Bourse to see the dome. This is the big round building by Saint Eustache. It used to be a grain market under Louis IV, and I always thought that you needed to be an accredited agricultural commodities broker to get in. Apparently all you need to do is be pleasant to the guard and promise not to take photos.

We walked down into the George Pompidou museum of modern art, and then by the Stravinsky Fountain, and to the BHV for a bit of shopping.

We made it into Notre Dame just before going home for a nap.

Day 4 : Blendra

Alright, step step step onto the stage, walk straight and with purpose. Turn to the right with flair.

It's easy for the guys, they point their thin hips in the direction they want to go and go there. The girls move twice as far to cover the same distance -- buttocks swimming left and right through invisible water, flicking off the excess drops with each step. Get to the centre of the catwalk, turn towards the inside and share a model's smile with your colleague (who had damn well better be on her mark). Hands on your hips, swivel to the back, let them see your bottom, look look look and step step back together in sync. Back behind the wall to change quickly into the next outfit, and swim back out into the spot light as the bass thumps.

I finally got to see a fashion show. Au Printemps has a public showing in an auditorium every Tuesday at 10:00am. I knew that Anna was interested in seeing a fashion show, so we made arrangements to meet and all four of us would go check it out. It was obviously more of a publicity fashion show for the gross public (and not one of the invitation-only défilés held under the Louvre), but it was very well done. The models were beautiful and gracious (five girls, one gent) and the music was lively. Many photos were taken... but I left my memory card at home. Poo.

Afterwards, we said good-bye to Anna and walked to La Madeleine. We checked out some of the incredibly expensive grocery stores in the area (with extremely beautiful produce) and saw truffles and caviar. Then we went over the Pont Alexandre III to Les Invalides, just to walk through the court and end up at the Musée Rodin. We headed back to my place for dinner (BLTs).

Day 5 : Shopstra

I can only report today by proxy, since I had to go to work. I left the two innocent tourists at the mercy of the big city.

They still weren't home when I got home, but they thoughtfully left me a note. They also cooked themselves (and myself) dinner, and cleaned my kitchen for me. Excellent guests, and welcome at any time!

Apparently, they had spent the day shopping around town. I had just heard about the wholesale shoe district on Rue Meslay my Place de la Republique, and they volunteered to check it out. Apparently, the street is lined with dozens of shoe stores on both sides, with prices and a selection straight out of a shoe-fetishist's most fevered delusional dreams. If you are a shoe-a-holic, well, I don't need to hear about it. You can go to the Parisian shoe district and then try to tell me about it later.

One shoe strongly resembles another, in my opinion -- but many people tell me the same thing about churches.

They also got some clothing and gifts. Apparently the shopkeepers were delightfully effusive: "magnifique!" and "quelle beauté!" rang through the store. I immediately became suspicious, but they assured me that it generally was polite (and not the creepy, mumbling man with a "business card" that I feared).

Kendra showed me how to "chat" on that "interweb" thing I "installed" on my "computer". Wow, she can type as fast as I can. She can also keep track of more than one conversation at a time. These crazy kids -- what will they think of next?! Hopefully staying off my lawn, that's what.

I went to bed much, much earlier than they did.

Day 6 : Shopstra II -- Electric Bugaloo

Again, I had to work, so I left them to their own devices -- plenty of guidebooks if necessary. I understand that it was another shopping day.

We had a taboulet for supper (cold couscous salad with tomato and cucumber) with merguez (sheep and beef sausage) because it was too hot to cook.

It was too hot to think as well.

Suggestions for our next week? Let's hear them!

Posted by The Inaccurate Tourist at July 30, 2004 07:02 PM