A Crazy Week In Paris – Fall 2015

Maybe I am bad luck for foreign lands. Maybe I was meant to be a wartime correspondent.  Or maybe the world is just a screwed up place, and too many of my trips happen to coincide with some horrible happenings (besides my general presence).

I went to Israel during a bombing campaign by Hezbollah (not that that’s anything unusual, sadly). I visited Thailand amidst a civil war between Red and Yellow shirted individuals (being careful to pack only neutral colors).  My fall trip to the Pacific Northwest ended up being cancelled due to wildfires.  And now I had the unfortunate timing to be in Paris during the devastating terrorism of Friday the 13^th of November 2015.  I am fearful that my planned trip to South Africa next May may cause the reinstatement of Apartheid or some other chaos.  For the record, I don’t believe it is my fault.

Anyway, first thing’s first, I’d like to record a bit about this visit to the City of Light in my first (but hopefully not last) trip to France.

Day 1 – Wednesday, November 11^th – Something New

I flew out Tuesday night for a Wednesday morning arrival on 11/11. The RER B to Gare Nord followed by the #5 Metro to Republique, followed by me fumbling around to read a map, and I was at the Hotel Marais Home by 9 a.m., where they were graciously awaiting with a ready room for my early check-in.  It was Armistice Day (celebration of the end of WWI), and usually involved a military parade on the Champs Elysees, at least according to the websites I had read ahead of the trip.  However, my trusty hotelier told me that there was no parade.  I am not sure if he was right or wrong, but the trusty hoteliers would later prove to be wrong on a few other questions, so I have my doubts.  Regardless, I trusted him enough at this point to not plan on heading that way with any urgency on my first day.

Instead, I made my way in the general direction of the Pere Lachaise Cemetery, the final resting place of such luminaries as Moliere, Oscar Wilde, and Jim Morrison. On this first foray (not counting the struggles to find the hotel), I quickly figured out that I still could not read a map, and the 15 minute walk looped me around for about an hour before I found my destination.  The cemetery is huge, full of cool mausoleums, different headstones, cobbled walks, and a generally interesting, macabre yet chill park setting.  The labyrinthine graveyard encourages you to get lost looking for celebrities or to wander aimlessly just looking about.  I stumbled upon the Abelard and Heloise monument, celebrating the storied romance of the perverted old pedophilosopher and his Lolita (I’m sure their love story sounds more romantic in French).  More importantly, I found the most famous resident, Doors frontman Jim Morrison, who, despite overdosing over 40 year ago, is still the one everyone is trying to find.  Hint – forget the map – follow the crowds.  I’m pretty sure more than half the people crowding outside the protective barrier in front of his tombstone could not name a single song he’d sung, but for whatever reason, his burial spot remains a must-see attraction.  Another name on the list that I wanted to see was Sex Toy, because, well, no reason required beyond the name.  Alas, I could not navigate the numerous headstones successfully enough to find this oddly named chap.  I would just have to wait to see Pigalle for sex toys.  Okay, curiosity got the best of me and I looked it up to see if it was just a joke the Lachaise map was playing on dumb English-reading tourists:  http://hipmamajenn.com/2015/07/30/who-is-sex-toy-and-why-are-they-buried-at-the-pere-lachaise-cemetery/  Sex Toy was apparently the stage name of a famous female French DJ who died in 2002.  Thanks, Hip Mamma Jenn for answering that question for me.  Who knew that it was possible to find google results involving the words Sex Toy that were actually safe for work?

I continued my aimless ambling after departing the dead zone, and partook in my first baguette (ham and cheese, or jambon et fromage, s’il vous plait), as well as a delicious coffee-flavored éclair (and I don’t even like coffee). After another hour, I managed to end up at the Bastille, bastion of French revolution (the tall tower amidst a crazy intersection is the only symbol of the old prison).  The Bastille Opera House is there as well, which looked like a neat building from the outside, though the classical Palais Garnier is the opera house people are supposed to see (it was the setting for the Phantom of the Opera story).  I then walked down past a big antique market, a special event requiring a 10 Euro entry fee, which I declined, past the boats along the Port de Plaisance de Paris Arsenal, until I finally reached the Seine.  From there, my way was much easier, as I only had to follow the water to see the major sites.  In order, I saw Notre Dame, Palais de Justice, the Louvre, Jardin des Tuileries, Concorde, Champs Elysees, up to the Arc De Triomphe.  It was quite a hike.  And no parade as far as I could see.  By this time, I had spent roughly six hours walking, and decided to head back to the hotel.  In terms of each of the aforementioned sights, I only visited the outside, as the plan was to see the inside once the wife would be there to share the experiences.  Sai had no interest in the Pere Lachaise cemetery, which was why I did that one alone.  The long walk (and jetlag) exhausted me, but at least it gave me more confidence in navigating the city, so that I’d be better prepared for the fights to come with Sai about me getting us lost or making her walk too much.  For dinner, I order the safest sounding thing on the menu, a steak with fries and a salad.  Am I the only person who didn’t know that boeuf tartare is a raw patty?  I nibbled a few bites before finally working up the nerve to ask the server if they had forgotten to cook my dish, when she explained that it was supposed to be that way.  Oh well, when at home, order a pizza; when in Rome, order a pizza; when in Paris, I’ll order a pizza next time, but for now, I ate a raw burger.  It was actually not bad, though I cheated a little by piecing it with warm fries to fool my taste buds.

Day 2 – Thursday, November 12^th – The Calm Before the Storm

I awoke feeling much better from a normal night’s sleep, and ventured out early to beat the crowds to the Catacombs (another morbid site that disinterested the wife). I arrived around 9:30 to be the 53^rd person in line for the 10 a.m. opening.  While waiting there, I found it surprising to see three (3) French soldiers walk by carrying their assault rifles.  I did not expect to see such an open military presence on the street in Paris (it seemed like something more in line with what I saw in Israel).  Anyway, we wound our way down the spiral staircase into the earth to the old limestone mines, which were reinforced in the mid to late 1800s after some surprising sinkholes reminded Parisians of the abandoned tunnels beneath their city.  Then, when they were looking for some other good uses for the low-lying real estate, someone came up with the brilliant idea of creating an ossuary, or stacking ground for six million skeletons.  I never wondered what six million bodies’ worth of bones would look like, but now I know.  It looks like a lot of femurs with skulls thrown in just to remind you that it’s not slender sticks of firewood around you.

Afterwards, I visited Place des Vosges (a central park near our hotel), where the surrounding shops contain nice artists’ galleries. I also saw Victor Hugo’s corner unit.  Another baguette (chicken this time) and some other French pastry, and my lunch was enjoyed on the rooftop of my hotel, overlooking other rooftops of the Marais area of the city.

I napped after lunch, then went for a 13 km treadmill run (stupid metric system, making me try to figure out how to convert to miles) in order to make sure I made some use of the hotel gym, knowing that I was unlikely to use it further once the wife was in tow. I sought out dinner in the Bastille neighborhood, as it seemed to have bountiful options (including Falstaff, a place mentioned in my research for places to find good beer – pardonne moi, I am not a big wine drinker), but instead I ended up at a dive bar named Yellow Mad Monkey; I liked the random name and the American rock music they were playing.  After a few beers out of cheap plastic cups and nothing to eat, I realized that I had to make my way to the airport to meet mon amour.  By that time, YMM had changed to a horrible deejay, so I wasn’t too saddened to go, though I did enjoy ogling Ingrid, the chaud (hot) bartender there (amazing stomach, which she showed every time she would play with her hair and her shirt would ride up… wait, where was I?).

An hour on the metro and train, and I was back at CDG (Charles De Gaul) Airport, to spend the next hour waiting for Sai’s flight to come in, clear customs, baggage claim, etc. By the time we made it back to the hotel, it was after midnight, and I was starved.  She had eaten on the plane and did not share my pain (that’s suffering, not bread).  Surprisingly, most of the places near our hotel were no longer serving food, but we found something, I ate cooked meat, and we called it a night.

Day 3 – Friday, November 13^th – A Dark Day

It started out as such an ugly day. We picked up brunch from a local café and ate it on a bench in the Place des Vosges before the storm clouds opened up and dumped a bunch of rain for the next twenty minutes.  While we window shopped the artist galleries around the plaza, I debated running back to pick up umbrellas, but the storm quickly passed, and we continued on our way.  We visited the Bastille Opera House, because our trusty hoteliers (remember them?) told us that we could procure Paris Museum Passes there.  Turns out, you cannot procure Paris Museum Passes there.  We metroed over a few stops and walked across the Pont Neuf bridge to visit the islands in the Seine, picking up our 4-day museum passes at the Sainte Chapelle Cathedral, the famous church with the big stained glass windows honoring the popular comedian.  The French have always loved the Chapelle Show.  We visited the Conciergerie, the old administrative / holding cell building for soon to be headless prisoners at the guillotine, including Marie Antoinette.

After touring the inside of the Notre Dame Cathedral, we went around the outside to wait in line for the tower (tour) tour. While waiting, we saw another group of French soldiers walking by.  Shortly after entering the line, a woman with a walkie-talkie came around and told us that there was some sort of incident that meant the tours were over for the day; however, no one reacted, and a few minutes later, she came around and told us that the tower was open again.  Really not sure what that was about.  Anyway, we managed to make it inside about half an hour later, and trekked up the 300+ spiraling steps to reach the tower views of the city.  Impressive vantage point.

Next we walked up the Seine to the Louvre, where there was shockingly no line! The Louvre is open late on Wednesdays and Fridays, so we were able to take advantage.  Inside, we saw the winged victory statue (looks like she spent some unfortunate time at the Conciergerie on the way to the Louvre), the French Revolution painting (topless chick hoisting the flag), and some smirking lady named something Lisa? (I theorize that the smirk was because she was thinking “500 years from now, people still won’t know that I just farted”).  There were some cool mummies and sarcophagi, and probably a lot of other things to see, but by this time, Sai could barely keep her eyes open, so we figured it best to head back towards the hotel.  After all, we had a 4 day museum pass, so surely we’d have time to come back and see more Louvre.  We dined close to the hotel and were back to our room by 10 p.m.  Sai’s Fitbit said that we had walked something like 11 miles (or 18 km) on the day.  We had previously talked about possibly going to see a concert at one of the classical churches (L’eglise de Madeleine – in a vainglorious attempt to pretend we were cultured), and I had printed out a listing of all of the concerts for the evening, but we were both too tired to make this effort.

If that was the end of it, we would have been more than satisfied with a productive first tour together of the wonderful city. Instead, at 10:42 p.m., I received a text from back home asking if we were okay, because of the shootings.  In Paris?  Yeah, at least 18 dead.  Wow, just turned on the TV.  I spent the next three hours riveted to the TV, (lucky for me CNN was available to offer an English version), alternately answering texts and emails from stateside friends and family asking if we were okay.  We had nearly called it a night without having a clue about the terrorist attacks.  It ended up such an uglier day than I could have ever imagined.

Day 4 – Saturday, November 14^th – The Aftermath

Now what? Saturday morning, we woke to more confused news about the previous night’s attacks.  The details were murky at best, but it was clear that a concerted effort was made to wreak havoc on the city of Paris.  They were saying that people were told to stay indoors because they didn’t know how many terrorists were still at large or if there were further attacks planned.  Even without this warning, it was hard to plan to go around like a stupid tourist and try to have fun knowing very little but recognizing enough to realize that something truly horrific had just happened.  Cancelling the trip was not an option, but enjoying it seemed somehow unfair too.  And staying inside the hotel was a non-starter, or there would have been at least one more casualty if we had tried to stay cooped up inside together.

We had originally planned to go to Versailles on this day. Since the news programs reported that things were on lock-down inside Paris, we thought a venture a few miles outside the city still made sense.  We asked our trusty hoteliers (they’d only let us down a couple times so far), and they assured us that Versailles was still open, as they’d sent another couple there earlier already.  However, the Republique metro station was closed, as well as the next three stations, so we’d have to walk a ways before catching the subway to the train station.  I merci’ed our ever helpful hostess, and we left the safe confines of our little hotel for the big, scary city.  And Parisians persevere.  Fluctuat Nec Mergitur – tossed but not sunk (Latin, not French, but I still had to look it up.  Even though I took a few years of both languages in middle and high school, I cannot claim to have retained much of either).  This message was sprayed on a wall behind the Republique statue, alongside another panel messaging “Pray for Paris” with La Tour Eiffel inside a peace symbol.

We walked past a couple of closed metros, and the third one that was supposed to be closed appeared to be open (suggesting that our trusty hotelier may not have had all of her facts straight). Regardless, it saved us a bit of walking, so we hopped aboard, and less than an hour later, we disembarked from an empty RER C train and walked the short distance to the palaces and gardens of Versailles.  There we were greeted with an impressive gold colored gate, separating ourselves along with a couple hundred other confused tourists from the grounds of the estate.  It definitely looked more Ferme than Ouvert, and it was confirmed to be closed.  Someone inside the gate (working, not a fence-jumper) was trying to explain to people nearby that he didn’t know when the palace would reopen.  I quickly scanned my guidebook for its helpful phrases to throw out a mispronounced “demain?”, and he said that that was the question, as he did not know if they would be open tomorrow either.  We were mildly disappointed, though ever mindful that things could have been much worse for us, so we trained it back to Paris where we knew that everything would be closed as well.  Oh well, what else could we do?  We visited the outside of the Musee D’Orsay, walked through the Saint Germain neighborhood, the Latin Quarter, found the Jardins De Luxembourg to be closed (I didn’t think they could close a massive park / garden, but I was wrong, and I couldn’t even blame the people at our hotel this time).  There were noticeably more military men patrolling the streets, and police sirens seemingly ever-present.  Still, the streets were full, as no one wanted to stay inside and cower in fear over the cowardly acts of some misguided fanatics.  We saw the outside of the Pantheon, the big buildings of the Sorbonne, the shuttered doors of the Shakespeare and Company bookstore, and the open fountain at Saint Michel (finally something was operating, outside the restaurants).

By the time we returned to Marais, the Republique station was reopened, and the plaza was crowded with people lighting candles, leaving flowers, and writing messages for the innocents lost less than 24 hours before.

We dined in the dungeon-like cellar of the Pain Vin Fromage on the expected bread, wine and cheese (fondue restaurant), then returned to our hotel for more dreadful news coverage and further queries from concerned people back home. We were still fine, still staying in Paris, and making the most of the situation.

Day 5 – Sunday, November 15^th – Day 2 of Mourning

By the time we awoke on Sunday, it was clear that President Hollande had declared three days of mourning, meaning that we knew better than to expect to be able to go inside any of the landmarks of Paris. This did not stop us nor did it stop hundreds of other tourists from seeing La Tour Eiffel up close (just not from inside).  Eiffel’s 1889 exposition’s edifice loomed larger and larger as we approached from the Trocadero side, until we stood below the giant steel structure.  Of course it would have been cool to ride to the top platform, but at least we didn’t have to wait in any lines or pay for any tickets, and we now had a to-do list item for when we make it back to Paris someday.

Next, we metroed over to the Arc De Triomphe (closed inside), and walked down the Champs Elysees. Sadly for her but fortunately for me (saving me a fortune!), most of the high end shops were closed as part of the three days of mourning.  Laduree Champs Elysees was still open, so we had a very expensive lunch (including a 10 Euro bottle of water) before continuing down the road to see the closed Christmas booths flanking the sides of the Avenue once you get past the shops.  To be fair, I cannot say if the booths would have been open after Friday’s events, because they were still just setting them up when I walked this opposite direction on the Wednesday before.  The Grand Palais, Petit Palais, and Hotel Des Invalides looked nice from the street, and the Jardin Des Tuileries (which I had also visited during my Wednesday walkabout) was now closed.

Sacre Coeur was still open when we made it to Montmartre (stupid terrorists can’t close the churches!), though we arrived there after the dome tour was done for the day. Still, we saw the inside of another impressive basilica, and enjoyed the panoramic views of the city below us from this high hill.  One piece of caution – at the base of the hill, before you either take the steps or the funicular to the top, there are scads of cads literally trying to rope you in for your change.  They grab your arm and start to spool a cheap piece of thread into some sort of friendship bracelet for which they expect to get paid.  One such sketchy artist grabbed my arm, but I forcefully pulled away and offered my best French “Non!” a few times before he got the message and moved onto the next target.  While waiting in line for one of the free street toilets, we saw other guys approaching people, who all seemed to have already been “befriended”, as they pulled up their sleeves to show the guys they’d been had before.

Around the Basilique du Sacre Coeur, there is a lively neighborhood of shops and cafes, with artists in the plazas, though they seemed to be winding down as we were walking through. We wandered through Montmartre, stopping to pick up more French pastries and a baguette along the way (the stereotypical image of a French person carrying a bag with a baguette poking out is not an exaggeration – you see this everywhere, and for good reason – the bread is that good).  We passed by the Moulin Rouge though I didn’t know it (I was looking for the big windmill, but you have to stand farther away to see it), and the seedy strip clubs and sex shops of Pigalle (much easier to find sex toys here than in Pere Lachaise) before we returned to Republique.

We dined at Pizza Pino at the corner of Republique (though in France, I still love my pizza), then returned home to see Anderson Cooper broadcasting on CNN with the same restaurant behind him. I thought that was pretty cool, though Sai had no idea who Anderson Cooper was anyway.  She had counted fifteen (15) police vans lining the road in front of our hotel, and watching the news, we saw that there was an earlier scare in Republique when someone (mistakenly) said they’d heard gunfire, causing a mass panic as people fled in terror, trampling the candles and flowers around the statue.  The reporters astutely observed that people were still on edge, and things were far from normal.

Day 6 – Monday, November 16^th – Day 3 of Mourning

Because we had been so productive already in our Paris travels, and because all of the museums were still closed, we again boarded the train to visit an outlying town. Chartres was about an hour and fifteen minutes away, and was a much quieter locale than the big city.  We saw their version of the Cathedrale Notre-Dame (similarly old from the 1100s, but re-built several times since due to fires, but without its own hunchback).  The Chartes Cathedral was in the midst of another big restoration effort, so there were temporary partitions and scaffolding diminishing its current splendor, though I’m sure it will be nice when it’s finished.  Sai had had enough spiral stairs from our first church climb, so she napped or prayed while I ascended the spire to admire the view of this quiet community.  There is also a crypt beneath the church, but the only tours being offered on this day were in French, and we did not want to wait around for the next one anyway.

Next door we saw a stained glass window school / workshop / museum or something, where they showcased examples of restored stained glass windows as well as recent artwork on display at different buildings around the world. We grabbed a late lunch at one of the few open restaurants (I had an absolutely disgusting sausage; not that I’ve ever eaten it, but it tasted like I imagine dog shit would taste), took a 15 minute bus ride around the small town, and headed back to the big city.

Once back at the Gare Montparnasse, we were pleasantly surprised to find that the Montparnasse Tower was still open to tourists. Sadly, they did not offer the chance to walk up the 56 floors to the observation deck, though we did climb to the 59^th level roof deck after wimping out with the elevator up the first part.  From this high point, we could see all of the sites we’d visited in the previous few days, lit up at night (Notre Dame – Paris version not Chartres, Sacre Coeur, Arc De Triomphe, Invalides).  The Eiffer Tower was outlined in the distance, with a spinning searchlight atop.  For some reason, the tower itself was not lit up on this evening (even though it was lit the night before, as we saw from Sacre Coeur).  We also saw a brightly lit church we had not yet visited up close, which turned out to be Saint Sulpice, the second largest church in the city (behind Notre Dame).

After leaving the tower, we walked around the Saint Michel and Saint Germaine areas again, passing Saint Sulpice (check another one off the list), and finding Pierre Herme, a bakery that Sai wanted to see. We arrived there just ten minutes before their closing, so Sai quickly ordered a sampling of seemingly everything.  We then hit up a quick café for a light dinner and drinks, before retiring back to the hotel to eat some of our Pierre Herme desserts.

Day 7 – Tuesday, November 17^th – Last Day in Paris

By Tuesday, most of the tourist attractions were reopened, though the Louvre and Centre Pompidou (the old and modern art museums, respectively) were closed, as they are always closed on Tuesdays; FYI – many other museums (Orsay, Rodin, Versailles) are always closed on Mondays. We retraced our steps to Versailles (albeit via a different first metro stop), and were much more successful this time around.  We were also grateful to find that they willingly honored our four day museum passes, which had technically expired on day 3 of mourning.

Versailles is an insanely opulent palace, perhaps only surpassed by its grandiose gardens and grounds. As big as the mansion is, I was grateful to get outside where there were not so many tourists suffocating you.  Based on visual evidence, I am pretty sure that Versailles is the most popular destination for all Chinese people.  While you only have access to a small fraction of the palace, something like 25 rooms (place is huge!), you have basically free reign once outside to wander the immaculate estate grounds.  Sai’s trip highlight occurred during this excursion, when she orgasmically ate another pastry from Pierre Herme.  Seriously, I thought she was going to leave me then and there to pursue the baker behind this dish that gave her more joy than I can ever hope to offer.

The Grand Trianon and Petit Trianon were much less impressive than the Versailles palace proper (namely, the difference that stood out most to me beyond mere size is that inside Versailles, all of the ceilings were covered in artwork; in the Trianons, the high barreled ceilings had peeling white paint); still they were worth checking out. Petit Trianon was Marie Antoinette’s hideaway from the prying eyes of all the Chinese tourists.

Several hours after our arrival, we hopped back on the train to Paris to continue our quest to see inside some of the facilities previously closed to us. Next up, Musee D’Orsay, inside an old train station.  It’s a very cool building architecturally, and its more modern art than the Louvre was more interesting to me (couldn’t care less about the religious themed paintings).  Orsay’s Monets, Manets, Gaugins and Van Goghs, though still a hundred plus years old, were more relatable and vivid.  Although the Rodin museum is closed on Tuesdays, there are enough of his sculptures in Orsay to satisfy my (admittedly middling) curiosity.  And for those keeping score, our 4 day Museum Pass (which we only used on days 1 and 5) cost 56 Euros each, and granted us access to Sainte-Chapelle, Conciergerie, Notre Dame Towers, Louvre, Versailles, and Orsay, all of which would have cost more than 56 Euros if purchased separately.  So we got our money’s worth, even though we didn’t get a chance to see inside of Rodin, Pompidou, Musee de l’Armee, the Pantheon, or any of a dozen plus other options covered with the pass.  Again, oh well.

Afterwards, any guesses as to what Sai wanted? Sure enough, we returned to Rue Bonaparte so she could load up on more of Pierre Herme’s patisseries.  Later, we met up for dinner with one of Sai’s friends who happened to be in Paris for a business meeting (another good sign that things were returning to normal), before heading to our hotel to end our last night in the City of Light.

The End

The next day, we flew back to Dulles, back to work the day after, and onward with the routine. Paris is a tremendous city, with enough to offer to fill up a week even without offering the opportunity to do half of the things on your list.  I am still disappointed that some ISIS sponsored assholes got together and tried (unsuccessfully) to ruin a great thing, and hurt and killed (in their dead souls successfully) so many, but I believe this will only strengthen the resolve of civilization to stand against these terrorists.  I encourage everyone to visit Paris, to behold all that it has to offer, and to support its esprit de corps:  Vive La France!

Figure 1 – Heloise et Abelard

Figure 2 – Jim Morrison – This is his End

Figure 3 – Pere Lachaise Cemetery

Figure 4 – Bastille

Figure 5 – Port de Plaisance (behind Bastille)

Figure 6 – Notre Dame (Paris)

Figure 7 – Arc De Triomphe (sans Parade)

Figure 8 – Louvre

Figure 9 – Steak (Boeuf) Tartare

Figure 10 – Catacombs Ossuary

Figure 11 – More Skullduggery

Figure 12 – Place des Vosges, from Victor Hugo’s House

Figure 13 – Victor Hugo

Figure 14 – Dave Chappele’s Windows

Figure 15 – Notre Dame Chimera Checking out the Eiffel Tower

Figure 16 – Winged Victory, Post Guillotine

Figure 17 – Louvre Mummy (sorry, my Mona Lisa picture didn’t come out well)

Figure 18 – Versailles, Ferme (Closed)

Figure 19 – Pantheon (Ferme)

Figure 20 – Shakespeare & Co – Closed (Ferme)

Figure 21 – Fountain at St Michel – Open (Ouvert)!

Figure 22 – No explanation needed

Figure 23 – La Tour Eiffel, from afar (Trocadero side)

Figure 24 – La Tour Eiffel, from a near

Figure 25 – Sacre Coeur

Figure 26 – Quiet Town of Chartres, from low

Figure 27 – Quiet town of Chartres, from high (Chartres Cathedral)

Figure 28 – City of Light at Night (from Tour Montparnasse)

Figure 29 – Saint Sulpice Church

Figure 30 – Versailles, Round 2 (Ouvert!)

Figure 31 – Versailles, Hall of Mirrors (notice the ceiling!)

Figure 32 – Trianon, Hall (boring ceiling!)

Figure 33 – Versailles Grounds, stretching to horizon

Figure 34 – Marie Antoinette, still with head

Figure 35 – Musee D’Orsay

Figure 36 – Sacre Coeur in distance, from inside Orsay

Figure 37 – Van Gogh, still with Ear

Figure 38 – Rodin in Orsay

Figure 39 – Toulouse-Lautrec’s French Can Can Girl

Figure 40 – Sai saying goodbye to the Seine