Oh La La!

Sacre bleu! As always I seemed to have forgotten to pack a toothbrush. So after attempting to rinse out my mouth with toothpaste (which I also forgot to pack), I was on my way to explore the city. I lucked out that the weather was sunny and warm. Yannick went out of his way to write out all the locations that I had wanted to see and his recommendations, plus how to get there, complete with subway line numbers. Did I mention how awesome he is? Somewhere along the way I would have to stop and buy a toothbrush.

-

-

So with list in hand I walked to the metro. First stop, the Eiffel Tower. I stood there waiting for the subway. When it stopped the doors didn't open. Even when I glared at them. Apparently the subway doors aren't automatic, you need to open them yourself. Sheesh. There aren't even announcements for subway stops either. We are spoiled in Canada! After a brief metro ride I exited the station to check out the Eiffel Tower (or what I kept mistakenly calling the CN Tower the whole trip). I wasn't exactly sure where it was so I just started walking. I turned a corner and there it was. I know this is going to sound fromager but I was actually quite moved by the sight of it. I'm not exactly sure why....nostalgia maybe? Whatever it was passed. I stood there in front of the tower for the longest time, so lost in thought that I never noticed the guy standing next to me until he started talking. Here we go, the cheeky Frenchman the internet warned me about! He introduced himself, an Italian who moved to Paris three months ago. We stood there idly chitchatting, me in Frenglish, him in whatever English he knew. He really started laying on the fromage, telling me how belle I was, how belle my eyes were. Sheesh, do girls really fall for this kind of thing? I know that in his culture men are more direct and touchy-feely, and this could be quite normal and acceptable. I gave him a 'look' and made some sort of snorting sound, and he just laughed and said that he loved my accent (never thought I would hear that!). We chatted for a bit longer when I told him that I had to go. He asked me where I was going and I showed him the list. He asked me if I wanted some company. Now here was this stranger who I met at a tourist hotspot who wanted to spend the day with me (a work day at that...did he not have a job???) showing me the city....is this how he picks up chicks? The whole situation screamed sketchy but I went with it anyways. I figured that as long as I didn't wander down some alley way with him and stayed away from unmarked vans (even the ones that said 'free candy', as hard as that would be) I would be fine.

-

-

The first stop was the Arc de Triomphe. It was kind of in the middle of the motorway and there was lots of traffic.   I can't tell you anything about the Arc (or I'm embarrassed to say, about any of the monuments in Paris) but it is quite the experience to see it in person. We continued walking and walking and walking. All I could think about was that I needed to buy a toothbrush. My new Italian friend kept stroking my arm, my back....complimenting me. He wasn't doing it in a creepy way, and he apologized saying that in his culture people were more direct. Uh yeah, no kidding. He said he really liked me because I was so 'simple'. And by simple I hope he meant laid back. He said my eyes glowed and I was adventurous, that I was drole. I'm not exactly sure what he meant by that but I just snorted again. We continued walking.....I can't really tell you everything I saw, but there was a lot of walking involved!
-
-

The Arc

-

-

At last I came across a store that sold toothbrushes, found a bathroom at McDonalds and finally got to brush my teeth.   Then we continued to walk and walk and walk (plus a subway ride here or there). I have to say that one of my most favourite places was the Louvre. Because I really only had one day in Paris I never had time to actually go into it, but even the outside of the Louvre was amazing. I can't explain it, and don't know why, but it just felt right being there. I could have sat there all day. Italian boy must have been feeling it to because he commented on how romantic it was then tried to hold my hand while swooping in to kiss my head. I just slapped his hand away and told him 'no contacto'. I don't even know if that's a real word (remind me to pick up "Italian for Dummies" as well). I started thinking about ways to ditch him if need be (who's brilliant idea was it to tour around with a stranger anyways?). He wasn't being inappropriate or creepy (I wasn't getting bad vibes or anything), it was just mildly annoying. Was he being cheeky, or was this really what Italians are like? We toured around some more, and even though there was a language barrier between me and Italiano, I had a lot of fun that day. One thing I found absolutely hilarious is that Italiano kept saying "Ohhh La La". Yes they actually say Ohhh La La, but not in the drawn out over exaggerated way we say (like "Ewww la la"). It's more a quick "Oh la la" said in place of "Oh my God" type situations.
-
-

Louvre

Me and Italiano

Moulin Rouge

-

After a full day of touring, the last stop on my list was Paris' largest cemetery: Pere Lachaise. It is 110 acres and really amazing! The first stop was Jim Morrisons grave. I cannot begin to explain to you what this cemetery is like. It is incredible (and a little creepy with all of the ravens flying around one particular area). After walking around a bit, Italiano told me that it was time for him to go. He gave me a hug, kissed me on the head, told me that he loved me (for the second time that day), then disappeared....just like that. I don't know if he really had to go, or just realized that I wasn't going to put out, but it was really sweet of him to spend over 5 hours showing me around the city. It was definitely better than if I had done it alone, and I really did have a great time and enjoyed his company.

Jim Morrisons grave

I spent a little (ok a lot) more time wandering around the cemetery then headed to a restaurant for a quick bite to eat. The waiter started to talk to me in french so I said the only french thing I know how "parlez-vous englais?". He asked where I was from and was shocked that I, as a Canadian, did not know french. Sheesh. I ordered crepes, and when the waiter gave me my order (complete with heart made out of whipped cream) I gave him a big smile and said "Gracias". D'oh!. I did this for the entire trip in France. I kept saying gracias instead of merci. Maybe I should have read French for Dummies BEFORE my trip.

-

-

After I ate I slowly made my way back to my French home. My host spent some time going over photography tips (he is an awesome photographer), and he made some amazing quiche. It was a low key evening because the next day was going to be a long one, and the reason why I came to France in the first place.....