Ah, the laptop. When I can look back and laugh on the stress that this little piece of technology caused, I will write about it. Suffice it to say that it all worked out in the end to actually tag along with us on the trip, but as it happened, that wouldn't be the last stress it would cause us.
The last few days ramping up to our departure date were busy ones. I loved spending time with friends and family, mostly for the very selfish reason that while we were there, we couldn't really do anything trip-related. The trip was exciting to talk about, but preparing for it was essentially on hold. When we got back to Ottawa from a visit, we descended back into trip mode, which meant a lot of late nights and dire decision-making.
Though as a friend of mine would say, these are high-class problems... we're still taking a really, really cool trip. As long as we have our ticket and a toothbrush, we have something to work with; everything else is gravy. Though the security people at Toronto airport (yes, Toronto, not Montreal - we were diverted as all the Montreal flights were down) took my Leatherman-style tool away (pliers, screwdriver, file, etc) because it also had some knives. If I had some forethought I could have cut them off. I guess I just can't make it through security without losing something.
The plan right now is to stay a few days in Paris, and then tour around the Loire valley for about a week in a rental car. After that we drop off the car in Beauvais, fly extremely cheaply to Ireland for the weekend to visit my uncle Sandy, and then return to Beauvais for a train to Germany.
For the curious: movies on the plane did not include "Snakes on a Plane". Instead, "Mission Impossible III" and "Whale Rider". We weren't interested in the former and we'd both seen the latter, so I cranked up "Casablanca" on the laptop and we made it half way through before needing to take a cat nap.
We experienced our first French queue on our way out of the airport (no gate for us at Charles De Gaulle airport; down the stairs off the plane, across the tarmac and onto a bus). Two lines of people merged into one, then went for ten metres before entering a labyrinth of lane dividers, swinging around onto themselves every three metres. The customs guy took a two-second hard stare of a look at my passport and waved me through; about the same for Amy.
And then we were in Paris.
Well, actually, the airport. Our first task was going to be where we were going to stay - especially important as we were starting to feel the effects of lack of sleep and jetlag. Of course, this is really not the time to be making complicated decisions. Of all the things we did before we left, copy down the number of the hostel recommended to us was not one of them. Or the address. All I could remember was it was nearby Gare de Lyon. But we thought we should call first to see if they had a private room available. So look them up in the phone book, right? Except the phone system is drastically different in Paris than in Canada - no telephone directories, and about six different phone companies, all with their own directory services. We did end up buying a phone card, but couldn't get information to work. So in the end we decided just to go there and try our luck at finding it.
So, next challenge: the Paris subway. Toronto's got two lines: the Bloor (east-west) line and the Yonge-University (north-south) line. Paris has, like, twenty. And they all curve and bend, following a path of their own to wind you through different parts of the city. Luckily we started at an end, so it was pretty straightforward to get into the city. And asking for help in getting to Gare de Lyon paid off - we rode the rails for about forty minutes, changed once, and walked out of the Gare to sunlight and thirty degrees Celsius.
Ok, so now we were in Paris.
In the end, the Blue Planet hostel found us. A crusty old frenchman in a Blue Planet t-shirt walked up to us and said, "Bonjour les Canadiens!" and asked us what we were looking for. We looked at his shirt and said - "Vous!" He took us round the block and literally, forty steps later, we were at the hostel. We got a good deal on a room, but it wouldn't be ready until three, so we parked our stuff in a storage area and strolled around Paris à la 12e arondissement (Paris is divided into twenty subdivisions, each one spiralling clockwise out of the center and called an "arondissement").
By the time we were walking back to the hostel, a little dazed and totally tired, we were ready to collapse. Our bodies just aren't used to this yet. I found when you're up that long, everything weighs more than it actually is ("Why did I bring all this camera equipment?") the small things are more stressful, and I was just cranky. When we finally fell into bed in the afternoon, we slept hard, just enough to recharge our batteries. A while later we grabbed some food at a nearby bar, Le Maximillien - 28 boulevard Diderot, 12e arondissement - a steal at 11 euros for an app, main, dessert and half-litre of wine each. The wine was just enough to smooth out the hard edges and we had another great sleep that night.
The next day was spent touring through Paris, but we had to take care of some essentials first, such as renting a car. I'd drained the laptop on our way over on the plane, so it had to be recharged. The only plug in the room didn't seem to work, but an enquiry at the front desk changed that (they switched it on). Charged up, we set about trying to find a place to connect to the net. Now I know what you may be thinking - internet cafe, right? Except they want you to use their own terminals, and all our email is here, all our trip information is here - it's just easier to use this one, and damn it all, I have gone through so much to bring it, it was turning into a real challenge for it to be useful.
We consulted a list I'd managed to save from Toronto, of free wireless "hot spots" around Paris, and found a relatively close one. Of course the wireless didn't work, which was pretty demoralizing, so we tried a bureau du Poste, having read that many of them offer access to the internet. The one we found - no internet in sight, but an agent there directed us to a "McDo". Yes, McDonald's actually offers free wireless in its restaurants, and of all places, it worked. So we were now up to date on email, rented a car for half the price of what we'd been quoted in person, and finished some other prep work.
After that we toured the Musée du Rodin (his sculptures in a garden) and then made our way to the Eiffel tower. The Rodin was captivating - set especially well in the amazingly manicured gardens - especially his "Porte à l'enfer" - a set of massive doors cast in bronze with dozens of human figures in various sinful and agonizing positions.
The Eiffel tower really is worth the visit to Paris - it defies photographs. I finally get the fact that for some things in life, you really have to be there, and the Eiffel tower is one of those things. Of course, that didn't stop me from taking photos of the tower, it's just hard to convey the sense of size. While the CN tower is taller, the Eiffel tower is "fatter" and ten times more elegant. People camped out along the long stretches of grass leading up to the tower, waiting for the nightly lightshow. Of course, Amy and I had to go up the tower, which was interesting (how's that for descriptive? I guess you'll just have to go).So, that brings you more or less up to date with where we are now!
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