Bonjour, Paris, et à bientô!

Getting to Paris was not a particularly pleasant experience, one that included a guy walking by  wearing a TINY green kilt. No pictures. You may thank me.

I was not able to reserve tickets online and, when I went to the station, they had one train (at premium price) and one leaving the next day at a reasonable rate...to Lille. I figured I had enough to juggle so I swallowed hard, pulled out a credit card, and booked us to Paris. 

Going through customs here is like in an airport but somehow more hectic. The group of guys wearing crazily printed tuxedos probably added to that feel, though.

Well, at their version of TSA we were all pulled aside for extra screening - no big deal - but they kept Peekaloo's luggage. They went through it repeatedly, looking for a knife says Agent Attitude. Peekaloo thought it might be her brow  razor but couldn't find it, so I stepped up and started talking to the guy, trying to smooth things (never pays to argue with customs). Well, the noise and stress were too much for Zoey and down she went, having full-blown, back-to-back seizures in the middle of customs at the international train station. Boy, did they move fast! Everyone was freaking out, asking what we needed. They whisked us off (Zoey in a wheelchair) to the business lounge - free food bonus! 😉 - and rebooked us for a later train. The one that the booking agent conviniently forgot to mention earlier. 🤨

They understandably questioned whether she was ok to travel but we had prepared for this eventuality and had letters from two of her doctors stating her medical issues and that she was ok to travel while in our company, so they just basically made us comfy and let us be until the train got there, then we got priority boarding. Silver lining. Always look for them. 😉

So, on to Paris! The AirBnB (our first ever) in Paris was an experience in and of itself. Located a couple of blocks from the Seine, our room was on floor 7, except in Europe that means floor 8, the ground floor being floor 0. We were basically in the attic, slanted ceiling and all. 

We walked up the 8 flights of stairs, backpacks in tow, trying to catch enough breath to hit Trivago for other accommodations, and get to the room. The person that rented it to us was a lovely and hilarious Chinese lady. We managed to shock her when we told her we walked upstairs. "You didn't use the lift??!" So, yeah, it seems we missed the elevator altogether. But we cannot be blamed for that when the elevator looks like this:

Yes. That little foot-and-a-half wide glass thingy on Dennis' right. That's the elevator.

We could barely stand sideways. Our shoulders were too broad.

It has a max load of 3 people/225kg (a little less than 500lbs).

Considering it was first put in service back in 1998, we decided to use it only 2 at a time. And no luggage.

Back to our host. When we asked where her accent was from, she said "China. You can't tell by my Chingrish?", at which point we all fell out laughing. Yes, she was that cool. She showed us where the bathroom was (in the hallway, with it's own key and no light) and basically tried to make us feel at home. That was easier said than done.

Yes, that's the shower. In the room.

But she was very hospitable, we had a place to ourselves, and the location was worth it. We could see Note Dame Cathedral from the one skylight/window.

And hear it ringing - loudly - every half hour during the day.

We also heard the sirens going to the terrorist attack that happened about 2 miles from our room. We had no idea what was going on because we old folks were already in bed, even though it was still light outside.

Actually, it didn't get dark in Paris until after 9:30PM! Yes, this picture was taken at 9:30. 😳

While Zoey was recuperating from her bout of seizures in the room, the rest of us went exploring. Right around the corner, we found this cool market.

On our last day in Paris, Dennis and I went to see the Eiffel Tower simply because we don't plan on coming back and my niece wanted pictures (yes, I'm a softy). Tokyo Tower was nicer and much more accessible. The Eiffel Tower is simply better viewed on postcards. The very heavy police/military presence and the tall wooden fence blocking the view were huge detractors. 

The best picture was from the car as we were driving away.

But the one thing we absolutely could not leave without doing almost did not happen. The one thing Zoey had wanted from the entire trip was to see the Marquís de Lafayette's grave. She'd been wanting this for over 10 years and it's highly unlikely she'll ever make this trip again. But Zoey had been in bed the whole time we were in Paris, recuperating. At this point, we're on the last day in Paris, the forecast is calling for severe thunderstorms, and I'm just sure it's not gonna happen.

Well, in the late afternoon, Zoey was feeling better so we got an Uber and, violà!, she has visited the grave of the Marquís de Lafayette! Then it started to rain and we hurried back to the room, a little wet but happy she got to see it.

For the record, this was my favorite part of the visit. Not necessarily because of Lafayette but because of the history of the place. Picpus Cemetery (were Lafayette is buried) has a strong, terrible tie to the French Revolution, specifically the time known as The Terror under Robespierre. It was one of those moments when one can really feel how terrible humans can be to one another, once again proving Ecclesiastes 8:9 and 1 John 5:19.

A very sad history but one that soon will cease to be repeated. (Psalm 37:10)

On a brighter note: Barcelona is next!