Thursday, March 26

Welcome aboard. Nonstop to Paris. Once I had squeezed into my spot on the plane with the help of a shoe horn (actually with the help of my quite portly seat mate who was on his way to West Africa to spend 28 days on an off-shore oil rig), I called my Dad to say bye and have him tell me to "fly carefully" (family tradition) from the plane. He reminded me that it took Lindbergh 35 hours to make this same trip. I appreciated the perspective.

My plan was:
- bring dinner aboard so as not to have to wait for the "dinner" the airline would serve an hour or so into the flight. Check. Yum.
- Pop some Tylenol PM and snuggle down against the window with my pillow brought from home. Check. Ahhhhh.

And there the plan went south (or, rather, northwest). We had to make an unscheduled landing in Cincinnati. Some gizmo that is essential for crossing the ocean was not working. (I heard this news with gratitude that they noticed the problem in a timely way!)

There were mechanics there ready to come aboard and figure out what was wrong. If not, maybe we'd switch planes, maybe we'd stay overnight in Cincinnati, maybe ... who knows. But I was getting sleepier by the minute. Luckily, the mechanics were wizards and worked the thing out and anyway, I slept through it all.

Awoke at one point to see tiny lights below outlining the exact shape of that last bit of land that is the northern shore of Nova Scotia. Must have slept well because the next thing I knew there was a beautiful dawning over the North Atlantic. I could see, here and there, pockets of cloud-free ocean dotted with icebergs.

Dawn over the North Atlantic

We glided in over patchwork farmland. So obviously not in the US. Tiny little villages, charming even from that distance. Landed to a drizzle at Charles De Gaul airport, a cold, imposing place which I navigated in a fog of having no idea where I was going. Just follow the signs. Expected to have my bags riffled through in customs as was the case when I traveled as a college student, but, apparently, I didn't look a thing like a college student to the officials who barely spared a glance my way while motioning me through. Fine with me.

First billboard I saw at CDG. I guess I really am in Paris!

Found my way to the RER (air-uh-air) where I had to open my mouth for the first time in French to seek help in making sure I was on the right train. Not bad for a beginner! The train ride was quick and made interesting only by a round, older man who got on, stuck a piece of paper in his mouth and "played" very French sounding tunes.


Jed met me at the Cité Universitaire station. What a joy to see that face! We walked across the street to his building (La Maison des Provences de France)

I do not know how to travel light. Jed indulges me, kind person that he is.

The building Jed lives in is massive. Quite nice too. It was funny to walk into his room, one which I've gotten to know rather well through all the Skyping we've done since last September when he first arrived. It felt totally familiar. From the window I can see at some distance the dome of the Pantheon and the two towers of Notre Dame beyond. Slightly to the left of that is Sacre Coeur, sitting high on its hill.

Jed had a tutorial session to attend so I set out walking west on Blvd. Jourdan to the intersection which is Place Orleans (I think). This part of Paris is not the charming Paris of movies and photographs, but it's full of French people who are speaking French. Further confirmation that I am indeed in Paris. Another clue: a Boulangerie down the street. I stopped in there on my way back to buy a pain au chocolate and a panniere (elephant ears) which I recall adoring when I was here as a college student.

I walked a bit and settled into a little cafe on the corner, again trying my French out on the waiter this time. I managed to order a lovely little snack of bread and cheese. I was hankering for a big cup of coffee, but what I ordered was rather tiny, it turned out. Too much cheese, too little coffee. Shoulda been the other way around!

Jed was happy with all the cheese I brought back to him. As well as the treats from the Boulangerie. We sat in the window, letting crumbs fall on the sill, hoping for pigeon visits which clearly occurred but not while we were watching. It was at this time that he pointed out his view of the Eiffel Tower. I hadn't seen it before. But at night! Every hour on the hour it sparkles like glitter. And you KNOW how I love anything that glitters! This is the ultimate in glitter.


Later we traipsed back down to Orleans to Jed's favorite local hole-in-the-wall for something like a gyro and pommes frites. The old diet is not going so well! We brought our bounty back to the room where we set up the computer and watched "TV" -- just like at home! Wonderful science programs about volcanoes plus a little 30-Rock and the odd comedian here and there.

I was so sleepy all afternoon and evening, but when the time came I could actually go to sleep, sleep was hard to come by. So revved up was I about being here. A little white noise from my handy-dandy iPhone and soon I was out. Blessed sleep!

Friday: Hop onto the Metro, just like I remember it from long ago. I love the giant posters that hug the curve of the wall. Re-learning how to navigate the transportation system is a wee bit challenging; I'm glad to have my teacher along! I'd forgotten too how business-like and un-smiling the Parisians are, as a rule. So I follow suit, trying to look like I belong here and know what I'm doing! Jed reminds me that personal space here ain't what it is back home. Boy howdy.

I hop off at Place Monge while Jed continues on to meet his colleagues near Gare du Nord for some research. The view I see while ascending the escalator makes my heart jump. It's the beautiful sight of Parisian buildings and wrought iron. We spill out into a perfect little square where a market is just coming down from a day of commerce. I'm looking for Cafe Contrascarpe as I've found on the internet that there is free wi-fi available there. I have no idea where I'm going but, following a few arrows and intuition, I walk up a narrow street (all the streets in this quarter are narrow) that suddenly empties into Place de la Contrascarpe! Bingo. And there's the cafe, sure enough. Ok. I know where that is, let's walk on a bit. Suddenly there's the Pantheon, HUGE!