The Best Things in Life Are Free

Louvre (Personal Photo)

The Louvre: originally a palace, it lost its function as the king’s place of residence after Louis XIV—the Sun King— chose to reign from his newly built palace in Versailles. Since I tagged along with my uncle on his way to work, I arrived early enough to be one of the first in line. Again, my wallet breathed a sigh of relief as my Carte de Séjour paperwork earned me complimentary entry.*

Once I had a map, I made a beeline for the Mona Lisa, knowing it is one of the most famous works on display in the Louvre and would soon become overrun with tourists eager to snap their own photo of the Giaconda maiden. The Mona Lisa was tiny! I should not have been surprised—I have heard this comment before—but yet, I still was. 

View from Notre Dame (Personal Photo)

In reality it is a fraction of that size at 30 by 21 inches. A glass box encloses it, and a metal barrier prevents you from getting close, both under the watchful eye of a security guard. I took my obligatory “I was there” photo and went to explore other exhibits, including The Code of Hammurabi, one of the oldest examples of writing in the world. By lunchtime, my head was swimming, although the rain had stopped; spending the morning indoors had been a wise decision.

My feet carried me to the Île de la Cité, the island in the middle of the La Seine. Although the sun had yet to show its face, I visited Sainte-Chapelle, a Gothic chapel renowned for its beautiful stained-glass windows. I am told it is spectacular in the sunlight, but I did not know if I would have the opportunity to visit it before I left Paris. Soon after, I scaled the towers of Notre Dame and viewed the city alongside stone gargoyles. Compared to the Eiffel tower’s climb (700 stairs), it was a breeze at 400 stairs, although the spiral staircase seemed nevertheless unending.

Notre Dame (Personal Photo)

During the afternoon I wandered around the south side of Paris, the Latin Quarter, munching on a panini and a sugar crêpe en route to the Pantheon (not to be mistaken for the one in Rome). There I saw the crypts of Rousseau, Voltaire and Marie Curie, among others before strolling the Jardins de Luxembourg and exploring a few antique bookstores. When it was time to meet up with my uncle, my feet were begging for rest and my stomach for supper. Although the traffic was sluggish, our dinner was hearty, my hosts were gracious and the wine, again, was superb.

*Sainte-Chapelle, Notre-Dame's towers and the Pantheon were also free for the same reasons. 

La Vie En Rose

Arc de Triomphe (Personal Photo)

Paris. It is La Ville Lumière, a rose-coloured dream of monuments and history-saturated streets, a city I had envisioned visiting of since I first said bonjour in fourth grade, a city I had begged to visit for years. Family discussions of this nature often went like this:

Parents: Laura, where would you like to go for vacation this year?

Me: Paris!

Parents: Where within driving distance*?

*Side note: Florida counts as “within driving distance”: it takes about twenty-two hours including gas and coffee breaks, but we’ve done it... and without changing drivers – my Dad drives it all!

When I signed on that crazy ride to spend a year abroad in Nice, France, the first destination on my list of “Places to See” was Paris... Oddly, it was only in January that I visited the city. Italy, The Netherlands, Spain and Germany squished in before it.

As such, the moment I set the TGV train to go to Paris for the first time, so many butterflies filled my stomach that I thought I would float off the ground, suitcase. When I popped into Paris from Germany and saw the Sacré-Coeur Basilica, that was not Paris. That was a tidbit, a teaser—to say that I visited Paris for the first time on my previous trip would be like saying you experienced a fine red wine after but inhaling the bouquet.

Sunset at the Eiffel Tower (Personal Photo)

I would be staying with family in a small town twenty kilometres from the city centre—family I had never met, and whom my parents had not seen for many years. I hoped that they would like me. My parents assured me that I would be fine. When I arrived at the Gare de Lyon after a five-hour train ride, I made a beeline for my uncle’s workplace at the other end of the city, where we had agreed to met, so that I could drop off my bags and determine how the rest of my afternoon would go.

I planned an ambitious but achievable loop that would start and finish with the Eiffel Tower. First, in daylight, and then at sunset. When I first saw the Eiffel Tower, I thought to myself, I am in Paris! I really am in Paris! I blinked, but it didn’t go away. After asking a young couple to take my photo, I power-walked to the Arc de Triomphe, where I climbed up to the very top up a dizzying spiral staircase to a lovely view of the. Absolutely free, I might add, because I had proof that I was a resident as opposed to simply a tourist. It would not be the only place my wallet would be spared.

After walking down the Champs-Élysées and across the Seine, I dashed into the Hôtel des Invalides (also free for me) before closing time to see Napoleon’s tomb. From there, I returned to the Eiffel Tower. My mind lurched at the line for the elevator, the expected wait time 45 minutes. That long, and I’d miss the sunset. Another sign said that the very top was closed: the second level was as high as you could go. 

The Eiffel Tower at night (Personal Photo)

Glancing at the one person in line for the stairs—and the half-price ticket—I braved the 700+ steps. I have no idea how I did it, especially after having already climbed the Arc de Triomphe, but I made it in time for a gorgeous sunset. The tower lit up while I was on it, and by the time I got back down, it was sparkling. However... I was a bit behind schedule!

As I was running back, on the other side of the Eiffel Tower... I happened to bump into the very same couple that had taken my photo earlier. With my silver fedora, I must have been memorable, for they recognised me before I recognised them! We were walking in the same direction, so I told them how to get to the Arc de Triomphe before sprinting back to my uncle’s workplace. My timing was perfect.

Dinner was spectacular. Lamb chops with vegetables and a red wine as old as I was! After sipping a tisane (an herbal infusion — technically not tea), meeting their cat Leo, and Skyping my parents, I tucked it in for the night. Snuggled in a real bed, belly still warm from the home-cooked meal, and mind fluttering with the afternoon’s adventure and the following day’s promises, I drifted off.

A Bite of Hamburg, A Taste of Paris

Rathaus, Hamburg (Personal Photo)

One activity I had been hankering to do while in Europe was to see an opera: I’ve been to a ballet, and as part of my coursework I’ve seen several plays, such as En Attendant Godot (Waiting for Godot). While in Berlin, I discovered that Carmen was playing... and I just had to see it, of course! The music was spectacular and I am sure you are all familiar with these two famous songs (Habanera and Votre Toast)... or if you’re not, you will be now! Unfortunately, the surtitles were in German, but the opera itself was sung in French, and between the bits I could catch, the acting and the synopsis I’d skimmed beforehand, I was fine.

The following day, I made a day trip to Hamburg—and no, I didn’t eat any hamburgers there. My friend Susan, who is from Hamburg, gave me some insight on what to see. I strolled through an underground tunnel beneath the river, sampled mulled wine with rum from a vendor, and visited the Alster, a man-made lake in the middle of the city.

When it was finally time to leave Berlin (and head to Paris), I stopped by Saarbrücken to meet a writing friend. En route, however, there was a stopover in Frankfurt, I grabbed McDonald's—the first time I've eaten it since coming to Europe. For 1.50 euros I got a small hot chocolate and a breakfast sandwich. The sandwich alone was 1.80 euros. Does it make sense? No. Did I enjoy the hot chocolate and the thirty cent-savings? Yes!

The Alster, Hamburg (Personal Photo)

Unfortunately, when I did reach Paris, I wasn’t able to stay for long. My exam schedule came out and I had an exam on the first possible day. which meant I had to return to Nice the following evening. My rest that night was less than pleasant; upon entering my hostel room, I discovered alcohol bottles were everywhere... and my (potentially intoxicated) roommates were rather rambunctious.

Before my train the next day, I visited the Sacré-Coeur Basilica, since it seemed rather out of the way and I wanted to make sure I hit it in case I didn’t get around to get when I really saw Paris. The view of Paris from the top of the hill was beautiful, although a guy approached me—doubtlessly pinning me for a tourist because of my backpack—and started tying this bracelet around my wrist, asking me whether I had a boyfriend! I told him I wasn’t interested (in French, and then in English when he didn’t understand me—his accent was perhaps Jamaican?) but he didn’t listen... and then he wanted money for the bracelet afterwards, claiming it to be for a donation to the church! So I replied, “I already said, ‘No Merci!’” and went on my merry way. If I’m going to donate, I’ll do it at the church itself, thank you very much.  

Sacre-Coeur Basilica, Paris (Personal Photo)