Our last day in London was spent at the Kew Gardens, meeting up with Leah's penpal for a brief introduction to the museum of science, and frantically finding / boarding our train to London.
Unknowingly, the seats we booked were directly behind a class of French schoolboys, all about 13 years old. They entertained themselves by loudly playing Thrift Shop on their phones, throwing Madeleines around, and working on their English homework.
They were very excited to hear that we speak English (and could help with their homework), and became slightly less excited to hear that we were American and not British. (Don't worry, we're disappointed, too.)
The train ride was quick, partly underwater, and culminated in our arrival at Gare du Nord, a train station in Paris. It took us no less than 45 minutes for us to exit the station, since the directions we had gotten to take to our hosts flat were erroneous. Eventually we managed to get some information (in French), purchase our train tickets (in French), and board the subway train.
And when we got off, we had no idea where we were. We asked a fellow at a small fruit stand for directions and it took a few tries to prompt the correct response from him. He drew a small map and we got there without error; in fact, when we were close to it we met an English-speaking woman who lived in the exact same building - and oddly she didn't speak French at all! No idea how she did it as we found it quite hard to not know French!
Our 85 year old host forgot we were coming entirely, and didnt have the room made up so sent us down the street to get dinner and come back later. We got expensive Indian food, which we ordered in French, with some difficulty. It ended up being quite decent, though small portions and we were starving so ate every last bit.
Our Paris hosts flat turned out to be quite amusing. We found ourselves immersed in the French culture. This was what was on the patio table when we arrived.
First things first, our first morning in Paris: food!
And then we set about exploring!
Notre-dame. There's something about these old churches and cathedrals that gets me. I'm an atheist, although maybe a spiritual one at that, but some of these just hit me right in the heart. I think it's the craftsmanship and dedication that goes into making these big temples. Is it god which inspired them to build such huge monoliths or merely vanity? Of course men like to admire their own work. I also think about how large and intricate they are. It would take so long for a person, a team even, to make the plans for such a huge structure -- and so long ago. The calculations, precision, architecture, physics etc... just blows my mind. And how cool and echo-y they are, and the light filtering through the windows.
Basically, the kind of shit I imagine when I'm listening to Gregorian chanting on my ipod in the dark.
Statue wielding a sword... or a back-scratcher.
And on the way back we acquired a baguette to go with dinner....
...which was pasta with pesto. We had leftovers for breakfast the next day as well, with eggs etc.
Leah says about the above photo:
"I'm not sure where this face came from, my only excuse is that I was very hungry, and on Benadryl. And, you know, baguette."
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