After Brussels, we took a train down to Paris, France, where the mythical girlfriend and I would spend a few days doing a boatload of touristy things, eating all of the food and drinking all of the wine.
Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, but if there was one city that genuinely felt, not really that European, I would have to say that would be Paris. Perhaps it’s on account of just how tourist-heavy Paris is in general, but at least where we were staying, right in the heart of the city, it felt almost like New York City. Lots of cars, honking horns, road ragers, large-scale branded department stores and popular international brand stores adorned Rue de Rivoli, which we were right off of, and a Metro stop was almost always within eyesight, to duck into, and take whatever train to whatever destination at the drop of a hat.
Sure, the vast majority of overheard conversations and speech are in French, but just about everyone in Paris speaks English, extremely well, and I can’t recall a single time in which I felt incapable of being able to communicate with someone if necessary. International immersion is something that I kind felt like I was seeking out, and I don’t necessarily think I found it in Paris; but considering the polar opposite of what I experienced in Berlin, I’m wondering if it really is a bad thing.
Anyway, with as much time spent in Paris, we saw a great deal of tourist sights and did a great deal of tourist activities. Lots of museums and general historical sights, such as the Louvre museum, the Paris Opera House, Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame cathedral, and not only seeing, but dining inside of the Eiffel Tower. Additionally, we also took a train out to see the Palace of Versailles, which was a pretty opulent sight in its own right and all hundred of its rooms.
But my favorite activity would probably have to be The Catacombes, where we went deep into the underbelly of Paris and walked through a whole bunch of creepy hall
ways, before the walls switched from stone and mortar to a seemingly endless network of tunnels and walls comprised of skulls and bones. Needless to say, the fact that I took nearly as many photos in the Catacombes as I did throughout the rest of Paris is kind of indication enough how much of a blast I had in a creepy, bone-filled subterranean tunnel.
And of course there’s a ton of food and wine along the way; it sounds cliche, but I really wanted to indulge in all of the stereotypical French cuisine, from croque monsieurs, tartines, crepes, cheeses, etc. As well as the supposed legendary falafel from L’As Du Fallafel, the one place that pretty much the entire internet says to go eat at whilst in Paris.
But most importantly, at the eleventh hour and 59th minute of being in Paris, I managed to procure a baguette, and take it with me for the road, to Amsterdam.
