Vacation by the numbers

Days away: 27
Days in Europe: 26
Days with more than 3 hours travel: 8

Countries: 4 (5 with layovers)
Cities: 9 (12 with layovers)

Pictures: 2059
Backpack weight (beginning): 18 lbs
Backpack weight (end): 22 lbs
Passport stamps: 4
Miles walked: 215.26
     Average/day: 8.61
     Longest day: 17.05
     Shortest day: 1.26
Mountains climbed: 2
Weight lost: 3#

Total cost: ~$1272.65
Nights in hostels: 15 in 3 different hostels
     Cost: $322.65 ($21.51/night)
Nights at a friend's: 4
     Cost: $0
Nights in hotels: 8 in 4 different hotels
     Cost: est. $950 ($118.75/night)
     Note: I didn't pay for the hotels.

Total cost: ~$1960
Planes: 8 (each leg)
     Cost: est. $1500
Trains: 10 (each leg)
     Cost: est. $450
Automobiles: 1
     Cost: $0 (friend's car)
Cable cars: 2
     Cost: $10

Total cost: ~$225
Museums: 7
Archaeological ruins: 10
Castles: 5
Libraries: 2
Churches: 14
Cemeteries: 3

Total cost: ~$500
Eating out: est. $300
Grocery stores: est. $75
Toiletries: est. $25
Shopping: est. $100

Items lost: 1 shirt, 1 pair of panties
Items left behind intentionally: 1 pair of boots, shampoo, conditioner
Items gifted: 1 oversized sweater

Romanesque bookbinding from the British Library

 A major highlight for me on my trip to Europe was visiting the British Library and finally inspecting books that I've only read about. I wrote about how I one can go about getting that privilege here, so I won't go into that on this post. Instead, I'm going to totally geek out on the books that I saw.

There were six books on my list to see, which I've listed below. I was allowed to see those marked with a star.

• Liber Exechials, Davis 80
• Gospels of Matthew and Mark, Davis 386
• Modus poenitendi..., IA 4708
• SALOMONIS, Add Ms 24076 *
• Gospels of Luke and John, Add Ms 27926 *
• Theological and ethical, Add Ms 38820 *

As I mentioned in the earlier post, taking pictures weren't allowed of any of these books, which meant that I had to take notes and draw pictures to try to remember the important bits and bobs that I found. Unfortunately, I can't draw well at the best of times, and my right hand is damaged right now, so it's not even the mediocre of times. Nonetheless, I'm going to try to share what I learned.

Oh. First, I'm going to note that most of my knowledge about Romanesque bookbinding comes from two major researchers, J. A. Szirmai and Christopher Clarkson. Both of them, however, left major questions regarding this time period and the books made then. I once emailed Prof. Clarkson to ask him a question regarding the spine treatment of Romanesque books, to which he replied that there were any number of ways that they were handled, and that I needed to go to England to study the books myself if I really wanted to understand how the books were made. He died four months later, years before I was able to do as he suggested.

(Funny side note, he mentioned that he seemed to remember Szirmai asking him the same question and he thought he'd given Szirmai the same answer. Guys! Are you hearing this??? Squeee!)

Okay, so, back to the trip to the British Library. I knew that the chances of seeing the actual spine treatment of any of these books would be infinitesimal, but I wanted to see if some of my other assumptions about Romanesque books were on point. Let's go through them one by one. (All pictures of actual books that follow come from the British Library website.)

SALOMONIS

The British Library link for this book is here. That gives you all of the information regarding where and when the book was made and of what materials, so I won't go into any of that here. These are the notes that I made (ie that I found interesting or noteworthy about it). 

• Ends - Leather was cut off rather than tucked in
• End bands - Wide herring bone pattern at about 1 cm wide
• Boards - 3/8" thick and (at a guess) 5" x 9" (I forgot a ruler so all measurements are guesses)
• Pages - Protrude past the edges of the boards and are neatly trimmed; the book block was only as thick as the two boards together
• Sewing stations - Three sewing stations on double leather cords sewing with thick linen threads
• End pages - These were glued down over the leather cover; appeared to be the front and back pages of first and last quires
• Stamped leather design - Blind tooled in a symmetrical design as shown in the following pictures

Gospels of Luke and John

The British Library link is here. This one appears to be a combination binding, having been bound in the 13th or 14th century with the limoges enameled metal pieces, but stamped on the back at some time in the 15th century. At least, that's what the experts at the BL claim, and I don't think I'm the one to question them.

• Ends - Leather is tucked around the end bands, which I found fascinating having never seen that before; this only takes place on the page portion of the book
• End bands - No way of knowing as they're covered by the leather
• Boards - The top board is 1" thick, carved into for the metal pieces to set into; bottom board is 1/2" thick; roughly 4" x 10"
• Pages - Slightly protruding past boards, but I think they were even with the boards when it was first made. It's really hard to tell.
• Metal covering - Carved metal with limoges enameling and attached metal heads on the four figures; one major faceplate with four flat bars 1" wide framing the book cover; beveled flat bars of stamped diapering covering the beveled area between the faceplate and the framing bars
• Sewing stations - Three on leather thongs split for double sewing; appeared to be false sewing on the 1" board side of things. Looks like the top board only held on by the outer red leather and additional linen cloth at the spine which is not seen on the back board at all.
• End pages - Reused music sheets that were attached to the front and back quires

Theological and ethical

The British Library link is here. This book, like the two above, was bound in red leather, which appears to be fairly common across multiple countries. The interesting thing about this book was the three attached bookmarks. I don't think I've seen those before in a period book earlier than the 15th century. 

Additionally, because there weren't any end pages, the leather thong attachments to the boards were easily seen. They were mostly in line, of a similar size and shape, with the top three aiming toward the top and the bottom three aiming toward the bottom. (See the picture below and try to ignore my crappy drawing ability.)

• Ends - The leather is tucked flush with the end bands and glued down tightly
• End bands - Double end bands with an initial sewing in white linen then covered in a herring bone pattern in colored silk
• Boards - 1/4" thick top and bottom; 4" x 8"
• Pages - Protrude past the boards, trimmed neatly; book block is 2" thick
• Sewing stations - Six stations on a leather thong split and sewn double with thick linen thread
• End pages - None seen and it appears there were never any
• Bookmarks - Finger loop braided in the same color silk as the end bands and attached to the end bands

I found it interesting that all three books were bound in red leather. I'm not sure why that surprised me, except that it seemed odd that I randomly selected three books from the 12th century and all three had red leather. Something to dig into a bit more, I think. 

The metal-covered book fascinated me. I'm dying to try to make one similar to this one. It looked to me like the top board was only held on by the outer leather cover, which seems impossible given the weight of the board with the metal on it. So I want to play around with using the leather thongs, additional spine coverings for support, and the leather cover to see which works best. 

I also thought it was pretty cool that each of the three books treated the leather at the end of the spine differently, too. There isn't a right or wrong way, apparently, to do it so long as it's cleanly done. Also, what the what?? They tucked the leather over the end band on one?! Not at all what I ever expected to see.

Mostly, this showed me that I need to look up a whole lot more books with Romanesque bindings to get a feel for what's common and what an exception, or even if such a thing exists. I'm also hoping to contact the BL research librarian that I was working with to get pictures of the parts that I drew. I'll share them when I do.

My experiences in hosteling

My friend Misty asked me how I even knew where to go to find decent hostels, what to do when I was there, and basically, how this was even an option. There are a lot of answers to those questions, so I thought I'd just go through my process to give you an idea of how I figured things out.

Let me start by saying that my experiences overall in staying in hostels in Barcelona, Naples, and Rome were very positive. It helps that I'm a good sleeper who doesn't struggle with new rooms, noises at night, and sharing a room with strangers. Basically, when I'm tired, I sleep. Very little prevents that. But it also helps that the hostels were, by and large, well-run and clean. 

I've heard of hostels for years, but believed that they were intended for young people to stay in, and folks my age weren't really encouraged to stay there. I went into this vacation with this fear, even though I planned to stay in hostels the first half of the trip. Nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, overall, most of the people that I met at my hostels were young - early 20s - but not all. There were several older people - 40s plus - at each hostel that I stayed in. So, if you also had that impression, let it go. Hostels accept anyone, happily.

How to find the right place

My first stop in looking for hostels was HostelWorld.com*. I was able to put in my criteria, the city I was going to be staying in, the dates that I needed, and then click "Search". It gave me a list of hostels in the city that I then scrolled through, reading the reviews diligently, and looking at a map to see how near or far from the things that mattered to me were. I was able to book the hostels from the US at a nominal cost, and received a full refund if I had to change my reservations for any reason with at least 24 hours notice. 

The average cost of my bed was ~$20/night. This included bedding, a locker, laundry facilities, and kitchen privileges in an all-women dorm. (Those were my criteria.) The more popular the city, the more it cost. The closer to the holidays the more it cost, as well. In Barcelona, I booked space in a 4-bed all-women room for six nights. I had a roommate only my last night there. The hostel had a capacity of over 120 beds, but had fewer than 25 people staying there until that last weekend. That was unusual, but was also very much the "off-season", too. I didn't have my own room again the rest of my trip.

You can, however, book your own room. That's an option. Still less expensive than a hotel, but not nearly so cheap as $20/night. So if you need your own space, it's still worth looking at hostels for less expensive options. (Plus, you'll still have access to the kitchen, so that'll save you, too.)

Okay, so I spent time looking things up based on my preferred criteria. Which still gave me a long list of options. That's where reading the reviews became imperative. I filtered the reviews by the newest ones posted, and then by those in the 40+ category. That gave me a good idea of what to expect from that particular hostel for folks my age. Plus, people my age who are looking to stay in a hostel often have similar expectations to me. We're not looking for spotless, five-star accommodations with a concierge and laundry service. We know better. But we are looking for a safe, relatively quiet, comfortable place with receptive owners/operators. 

Had I paid attention to those reviews - and the responses from the owners/operators - I wouldn't have ended up at the one hostel that I had issues in. Someone had complained about how difficult it had been to find the place (they weren't wrong) and how unsafe they felt while looking (again, they weren't wrong). The owner's response? "Don't come back." Why that didn't set my Spidey senses off, I don't know. I booked it anyway, and found that the reviewer wasn't wrong, and the owner/operator was very unhelpful with the issue (lack of hot water) that came up. So yeah, pay attention and listen to those who have gone before you.

What to expect once you're there

When you're staying in a dorm, you're sharing space with anywhere from three to 15 other people. I opted for the smallest dorms I could find that were in my budget that also were women-only. The dorms that I stayed in had four beds, five beds, and six beds. At no time were all of the beds full, though the six-bed place in Rome had up to five people on various nights. But you should go in expecting them all to be full. So, if you can't sleep with five strangers around you, don't book a dorm with that many beds. 

The showers are shared, so bring shower shoes and a shower caddy. Two of the hostels that I stayed in had communal showers. The one in Naples had two bathrooms on the same floor as our room but didn't have hot water while I was there. I ended up having to go up to the next floor to take a hot shower. Given how important those showers are to me after a really long walk, where the showers were located ended up mattering to me a lot. 

Bring a microfiber towel and washcloth. I know, they're not nearly as luxurious or wonderful as your fluffy towels at home, but they do a great job of drying you while drying themselves very quickly. It wasn't uncommon for me to take two showers a day when I overdid it, and the towel and washcloth were always bone dry each time I needed them. They're relatively cheap, too. At least, cheaper than paying the 2 or 3 Euros a day for a rental towel, and those are also nothing like your towels at home, I promise. 

Don't bring a robe. I'm glad I didn't waste the space on one. I'd have felt very uncomfortable walking from the shower to my room in a robe. Instead, I undressed and dressed in the shower room. Your mileage may vary, but it just felt odd to be undressed walking around the halls, even in a robe. 

Because I was spending so long traveling around with only one backpackful of stuff, laundry was incredibly important to me. It didn't occur to me to check to see if the laundry facilities cost money, so I was surprised in Rome when I had to pay 8 euros per load to wash and dry, plus the cost of the laundry soap. In Barcelona, I just paid for the soap, which I got from the front desk. (In Rome, there was a vending machine for everything from paddle locks to our breakfast tickets, including laundry soap.) I didn't even try to use the laundry in Naples as it wasn't worth trying to ask any of the hostel staff for help.

The lockers usually require a small lock. I brought one I had from home, only to realize that while it worked in one place, it didn't in another. I had to buy a smaller lock from one of the Rome hostel vending machines to use in their lockers. The hostel in Naples didn't have lockers in the room itself. Rather, the lockers were down in reception, which was a pain for me to keep my Chromebook in. I ended up hiding the Chromebook in the room instead of locking it up, but that was a risk I wouldn't suggest. It helped that the room was mostly empty. I don't remember the hostel's description mentioning this.

Party place or restful roost

Hostels are geared toward younger people, so there are plenty of places that have bars on site, lots of party buses, and any number of other ways to get drunk and stupid. If that's your jam, they're not hard to find. They're also pretty easy to identify via the reviews and options on HostelWorld. 

That being said, while I really wanted somewhere quiet to sleep once I was done climbing mountains or walking for miles, I also really enjoyed having somewhere to visit with other people during down time. It helped me feel connected to humanity while traveling alone.

The Barcelona hostel had a bar on the ground floor with inexpensive beer and sangria and a dedicated bartender. I ended up spending nearly every evening sitting at the bar, nursing a drink or two, and writing on my blog. It was a lovely way to meet folks, and still have down time.

There wasn't really that option at the hostel in Naples, nor was there really any place to sort of relax outside of the dorm itself. The congregation spot was really the kitchen, but while the workers/volunteers gathered there, they never really seemed open to my joining them. I don't know if it was an age thing or what, but no one else in the dorm joined them either. Not having that dedicated space to gather, I think, was a major factor for my feelings of loneliness while I was there.

In Rome, there was a bar, but it didn't have the same comfortable feeling as the one in Barcelona. The bartender was a delight but it seemed like more of a place for groups to gather rather than for individuals to meet. That being said, I did end up meeting a couple of very nice people there over the course of my stay.

Your hosts and hostesses at the hostels

The bartenders and breakfast staff in Barcelona, Sy and Estephania, were volunteers from California and Illinois, respectively, who came to spend eight weeks at the hostel. In exchange for their room, breakfast, and all they chose to drink at the bar, they worked somewhere between 20-30 hours a week either in the bar or setting up breakfast. I found that volunteering at hostels is actually a great way for younger people to spend time in another country at a minimal cost to themselves.

Not everyone are volunteers, however. Most are paid staff. Nearly everyone speaks English. They come from all over the world. But please, don't make the assumption that someone of another race isn't from the country you're in. There were Spanish employees in Barcelona who were black. In Rome, the bartender, a paid employee, looked decidedly south Asian and was born and raised in Rome. Be just as respectful in those countries as you would be in the US. 

At no time did I ever encounter the actual owner of any of the hostels. These are company-owned, for the most part. The employees are your only recourse when problems come up, so be kind to them from the beginning. I mean, you should be kind anyway, let's be real. But these people are mostly young, mostly from elsewhere, and mostly unsure on a few of the things that can come up. Be gentle in your requests, critiques, and comments.

What I'd do differently next time

There are a few things that I will do differently next time I book a hostel. 

• Verify that laundry facilities don't have additional costs
• Look for spaces with a bar but the reviews aren't all about how much fun partying the reviewers had
• Pay attention to the reviewers' comments
• Spring for the smaller dorms or get a single room whenever possible
• Use the kitchen more often to make meals rather than wasting money on eating out

But in general, I really enjoyed the whole hostel experience. For a cost-reducing option on long trips like the one I was on, it's worth every penny. You'll have to be open to unusual experiences, and be willing and able adapt to different personalities. I met some great people on my trip because I could and would do those things. It made traveling alone a lot less lonely.

*I get nothing by mentioning HostelWorld to you all. It was incredibly useful to me, so I'm sharing that with all of you. I promise, no quid pro quo here. *grins*

Paris - Cemeteries, museums, and fondue

New Year's Eve in Paris had been exceptional, but it had also taken it out of me. For the first time in this trip, I was grateful that no museums were open on the holiday. We slept late, barely making the 11am cut off for breakfast. My body ached, my head felt like it weighed 100 pounds, and my chest felt like another 100 pounds were sitting on top of it. I was Sick, with a capital S. A day of ease sounded amazing, especially since I was out of medicine.

So we did exactly that. I mean, on my terms. We walked to Pere Lachaise Cemetery. Okay, yes, it was a 2.5 mile walk, but we moved slowly, a relaxed pace along the Seine, on the south side of the Notre Dame, and up to the cemetery. The day fit the destination: cold, wet, and gray. I had bundled up in two sweaters, jeans, and my newly purchased Paris scarf to replace my lost Barcelona one. Maybe I should have stayed in bed for the day, but that's not really me.

This particular cemetery became famous in the United States as the resting place of Jim Morrison of The Doors. In fact, his gravesite is visited so often - and vandalized so readily - that they've now gated it off from the casual visitor. Devoted fans now use the gate as a new way to show their love of the man, by adding locks to it.

Additionally, and I don't really get this, there appears to be some big thing about putting chewing gum on a tree next to the gravesite. Anyone know what that's about??

Having seen The Doors movie and growing up with my older sister Andrea playing them, I knew who they were. I understood the appeal to a degree. But, let's be real here. This is me. Do you honestly think that I drug my happy, sick butt to a cemetery to see an American singer who died of a drug overdose? Uh, no. Dude... this is the cemetery where Abelard and Eloise were buried! Squee!

Who are they? Oh guys, come on! They were the love story of the 12th century! I'm still struggling to understand how there haven't been a million movies and books about this devoted couple who lost one another but gained prestige on their own while still sending each other love letters. This is the tragic love story everyone should know. *le sigh*

We wandered around for a good hour, looking for Chopin's gravesite, seeing the amazing monuments to those long gone, and seeing broken and disheveled stone cairns. Despite its more famous inhabitants (can I use that word here?), this is a living (*coughs*) cemetery where people are still being buried today. The juxtaposition of old and new, cared for and dilapidated, felt jarring and yet appropriate.

Oh, and I found where Voldemort was buried!

The weather fit the mood, and I'm glad we went. But again, I was doing pretty poorly, so when it was time to go, we went. The long, leisurely walk back to the hotel brought us up against the Notre Dame along a pathway with an explanation of what happened to it. This pathway was filled with people, of course, which made me feel a bit panicky, but at the same time, I wanted to see the story. So, I plowed through, a very patient Brian following along or leading the way in turn, before we made it back to the hotel. Where I crashed hard. While I slept, Brian went out to find food at a nearby bakery. We ate, and then discussed whether or not to go out that night. He was tired, I was sick, and the decision to stay in was made.

The next day, we got up relatively early and headed to the Musee Cluny, now known as The National Museum of the Middle Ages. Here's where I admit that I didn't have any idea that the Cluny was in Paris. I mean, sure, I've heard of it. Who hasn't? But until Brian suggested it as a place to visit on our last day, I'd no idea how close it was. As in, like, four blocks from the hotel close. Dude!

A day of rest (mostly), a hot shower, and hot coffee, I was feeling a little better. We walked to the Cluny, arriving about 10 minutes before it was set to open at 9:15. At around 9:25, someone came out, spoke in French, and then left. Those who seemed to understand him, smiled, shrugged, and waited. We assumed that meant that this was the typical Parisian "We're going to be opening late; blame the trains strike" speech.

We waited a little while, then Brian got restless. He wandered off a bit; I followed. And saw a pharmacy a block over. Yes, please!

I'm just going to say this. If you have the option to buy all the medicine you need in the UK before going to Paris, do it. Because the medicine that I got in Paris was literally gag-inducing. Both were powders. Both did the required job of making me feel human. One was a little meh in flavor; the other made me gag. But you can bet that gag I did for the rest of my trip, because it worked.

(It could be argued that I broke my "no US chain" rule here by running over to a nearby Starbucks to get a cup of hot water, but since I didn't actually pay for it, does it count?)

We continued to wander on, finding a beautiful cathedral to walk through.

Then walked back to the Cluny, which was now open. (I think it was around 10am by this time. No idea what time it actually opened its doors.) I will warn you now, this is a small-ish museum. They appear to be under constant improvements, and a number of their exhibits weren't available to be seen. Those that were, however, were exceptional to a Medievalist, especially an embroiderer.

Well, and for those interested in in enameling and repousse, there was the altar piece showing the missing pieces. (More info here: https://www.musee-moyenage.fr/collection/oeuvre/retable-de-la-pentecote.html)

But let's get into the nitty-gritty of what the Cluny is famous for: The Lady and the Unicorn.

To show my complete ignorance on these tapestries prior to seeing them, I'm going to share what I learned. There are six tapestries with the Lady and the Unicorn (and the Lion, which for whatever reason, is always completely ignored though it's equally prominent in all of the tapestries). Five of them are believed to be representations of the senses: sight, smell, touch, taste, and sound. The sixth tapestry, shown above, has been interpreted multiple ways by multiple people over the past 600+ years. It's the only one with words, which have been interpreted multiple ways, too. I'll let you do the research on that.

The other five, however, follow. I'll let you try to figure out which represents which sense.

As I said, I knew next to nothing about these before we saw them in the Cluny, but I do now understand why others are so intrigued by them. Sitting in the middle of the room, staring at the tapestries, both Brian and I found odd inconsistencies between them. As the general assumption is that each of these tapestries showed something specific, we assumed that those inconsistencies meant something to the artist, and we spent some time together trying to figure out what they could mean.

Yeah, I know. The Geek Side is strong in me. I was just grateful to be traveling with someone else who not only got that, but encouraged the discussion. He was also kind enough not to remark on the excited squeaks and squeals that regularly escaped as I walked through the museum.

I have a ton more pictures on the Cluny that will be put up on Flickr or PhotoBucket or something else for my fellow geeks. Needless to say, if you're in Paris, pay the slightly high fee and go see the things. Even if they open late.

After the Cluny, we tried once again to see Saint Chapelle, and failed once again. Then we stopped by the hotel to rest a bit before heading out to meet our friend from the forum, Telmo.

We had a drink, walked around a bit, then had another drink. Our conversation focused on the amount of smoking I've encountered in Europe, politics, the train strike and how it's affected Paris, and just stuff about our lives in general. Then he headed off while Brian and I went in search of our last meal together in Paris.

I'd mentioned that it seemed silly to come to Paris and not enjoy some fondue, so Brian insisted that we have that. We'd come across several restaurants in our wandering, so we backtracked until we found one that looked good. We each ordered a pot of cheese (which wasn't our smartest plan as one pot was plenty for both of us), I ordered a glass of wine, and we sat and had a wonderful talk about life, the universe, and everything over pots of hot cheese.

Before this trip, I'd spent time with Brian in Portland and chatted with him plenty on the forum and via PMs. What I learned this trip, however, was how much I appreciated him. He's conscientious, kind, and willing to push himself outside of his comfort zone. We travel well together, and despite the occasionally awkward moments of people thinking we were a couple instead of just friends, I think we had a great time exploring as a team. I'd enjoyed my time traveling alone, but I also really enjoyed traveling with my friend.

Thank you, Brian, for enhancing an already amazing trip. For putting up with my whinging while sick. For being willing to explore with me. And for spoiling me with your hotel and train choices. You're a gem. I hope you know that.

New Year's Eve in Paris

When I planned this trip, I had three objectives that drove my itinerary:

• Tapas and drinks with my friend Isaac on my birthday
• Christmas Eve Mass with the Pope
• New Year's Eve under the Eiffel Tower

On my birthday, I visited three museums before meeting up with Isaac. We went to one more museum, then spent the evening going to several places, eating tapas, drinking wine, and getting to know each other's cultures (and lives) better. Objective: Achieved!

For Christmas Eve, I'd called things early and headed up to the UK, giving up my tickets to mass with the Pope. I don't regret this one bit. I attended the Sunday Blessing by the Pope and then Vespers' Mass at St. Peter's Basilica later that evening. Fewer crowds, less standing in line, and I was able to rest a little longer before my final push. Given my current cold, it was probably one of the smarter things I did during this entire trip. Objective: Failed!

That left the goal of spending New Year's Eve under the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Spoiler alert: It didn't happen. Instead, I did better. Objective: Improved!

And that's really, really okay. By the time midnight came around, Brian and I had already traveled four hours via train, walked 17 miles, and seen and done so much. Including going to the Eiffel Tower.

It had been a Very Busy Day(tm).

We arrived at the Gare du Nord train station, which was roughly a two-mile hike from our hotel, situated on the Seine across the bridge from Notre Dame. By now you realize that two miles isn't a big deal for me. It is, however, unfun when carrying a 20-pound backpack and a 10-pound shoulder bag... while sick. 

(Look, I'm going to be complaining a lot over the next few posts about being sick. It's rare that I actually get sick-sick - not counting allergies - and this was easily the worst that I've felt in years. Had I not been on vacation and a stubborn idiot, I would have spent all of last week in bed whinging. So, I'm being a total baby about it, and it's going to show up a lot on my posts about Paris. Feel free to tell Brian that he was a total saint for putting up with me during this time. I agree.)

Anyway, we walked from the train station to the hotel partially because of the train strike, but also because it was for the most part a nice walk. I mean, the area around that train station is a bit sketch, but a few blocks away, we got a pretty good feel for what Paris is like without the tourists. Since pretty much everywhere else we went that day we saw mostly tourists, it was nice. 

The hotel was a delight, even if the elevator was a bit small... and slow. But the building was old, quirky, fun, and interesting. Our room had a ceiling so low that I worried that Brian would bump his head on the massive beams that crossed it. (He didn't.) And our view was extraordinary.

After unloading our bags, we headed out to see what we could see. Turns out in Paris, there's a lot to see.

Okay, let's take a step back for a second here. Before I left for this trip, Paris was sort of my throw-away city. I planned to travel to multiple capital cities, so it made sense to include Paris. On top of that, it was an easy hub to fly out of, and a million friends of mine have gone on and on about how incredible Paris is. For me, however, it held minimal appeal. It seemed to be yet another major city, where most of the history was in the past couple of hundred years. Cool, I was sure, but not really my kind of thing. So, my expectations were pretty low. 

I was told that I needed to experience it to fully understand. As it turns out, having now experienced it, I'm more interested in going back to experience much more of it. 

We walked out of the hotel, across the Seine, and towards the Saint Chapelle Chapel. The line had been mostly small when we'd walked by, and we knew that it closed early. Only we didn't know that it would close earlier than the posted time because they didn't allow people to buy tickets to enter with just an hour left to see it. Over the course of our time in Paris, we tried to see Saint Chapelle every day. When it wasn't closed, the line was insane. We never made it inside.

So, we walked on. We turned to the Eiffel Tower, as we'd gotten a glimpse of it from the Seine. Along the Seine, one can choose to walk up at the street level or down at the river level where motorized vehicles aren't allowed. We choose the lower route.

We approached the monument from the East, meaning that the setting sun lit it from behind. It was breathtaking.

The grounds around the tower hustled and bustled with hucksters and tourists alike. For the first time, I felt a bit of unease about how many people had gathered. For a number of reasons, we opted not to go up into the tower and instead walked around it.

It turns out that when I'm sick and exhausted, my paranoia plays up. Being in large crowds of people in Paris - where multiple terrorist attacks have taken place in exactly these situations - made me... skittish. Yeah, okay, that's downplaying how I was feeling. As Brian and I walked around Paris and the crowds grew with the sun going down, I knew that I would not be okay in a crunch. Thankfully, Brian had already said that he would be okay if we didn't stay out until midnight, so I didn't feel too guilty for asking to head back earlier than we'd initially intended. For now, though, we plowed on to the Arc de Triomphe.

The walk to the Arc was rather unsettling. Not only were the streets filled with people, but the police presence was obvious and ubiquitous. There seemed to be a constant cacophony of sirens and lights on the relatively short walk from the Eiffel Tower to the Arc, especially along the Place du Trocadero where people sat waiting to see the fireworks at midnight. 

On top of this, my cold medicine was beginning to wear off so my sinuses were throbbing and chest felt tight. We wended our way through the crowds and finally made it to the Arc. The crowds weren't quite as crazy on our approach and I managed to get a couple of really beautiful shots of it.

We walked on, having heard that the Sacre Coeur may be the best place to watch the fireworks. As we walked past the major road leading up to the Arc de Triomphe, lined in beautifully illuminated trees - and filling with police and people - I felt my heart in my throat. My pace increased and my head throbbed worse. 

One can know that logically, nothing is going to happen. Or be like Brian who takes it as it comes, feeling like he can't do anything about it anyway, so why worry? It appears that I am not that person. The lower the sun sunk, the more people we encountered, the more I felt the panic rise. I'm sure it doesn't help that I'm claustrophobic at the best of times, and these were definitely not those times. People towered over me, and if Brian weren't so tall, I know that I would have lost him several times. Thankfully, he's not only tall, but also conscientious and made sure that I was within site the whole time.

As we left most of the crowds behind, I realized that I may have pushed myself too hard already. I felt weak, light-headed, and sick to my stomach. I suggested stopping for food - and a break from walking. Brian agreed, and then suggested a McDonald's that was on our route. Not because he wanted McDonald's, but because it was likely to have an English menu, be open, and have a bathroom. At this moment in time, I was willing to break my one rule for the trip: No US chain restaurants. 

Thankfully, the restaurant wasn't open, so it didn't happen. Instead, we went to a pizza restaurant on the same street. After a solid hour and a bit more of resting, eating, and just being, we both felt better. Time to head on to Sacre Coeur. This included a trip through a lovely park where we stopped to rest and enjoy the quiet.

Had I known this walk would be up a million stairs, I may have stayed at the park longer. I didn't, so off we went. I am so glad that we did. What a stunning cathedral with a more beautiful view of the city. 

This cathedral was different from most of the others that I'd gone into. Most of those had been empty of people except for tourists, with few kneeling in the pews. This church, however, had as many or more congregants as visitors. Every inner chapel had at least one person kneeling in prayer, though most had quite a few more. Additionally, we saw those touching a statue in prayer, which touched my heart. The throngs of people praying made the massive space feel intimate and inclusive.

Leaving the church, we stepped outside to look once more at the view before heading back to the hotel. By this time, it was coming up on 10pm, and I was fading fast. Down, down, down the stairs we went.

One would think that we'd already hit it out of the ballpark with our walk. We'd seen four of the major tourist attractions in Paris in one go. What more could we want?

When you go to Paris, see those attractions, preferably at sunset. I can't recommend that enough. And then, after a leisurely dinner while the sun sinks completely away, walk over to the Louvre. We did that. Not on purpose; we just happened on it as we walked back to the hotel from Sacre Coeur. And wow. Nothing could have prepared me for the exquisite beauty of the Louvre at night.

We didn't get back to our room until after 11pm as we simply couldn't be rushed to leave the Louvre. But by then, my headache made thought nearly impossible, and my feet and back screamed at me. I took a long, hot shower, downed the last of my medicine from the UK, and crawled into bed. A glass of red wine on the bedside table, I felt better than I had in hours.

Funny thing about hotel rooms that overlook the Seine and Notre Dame. There are almost always people hanging out on the streets near them. Especially at nearly midnight on New Years Eve. So, despite my desire for sleep, when midnight came, we heard the fireworks, the shouts from below, and Brian went to the window to see them. I got up, too, because come on. How do you not? And from our hotel room overlooking the Seine, we watched the fireworks over the Arc de Triomphe, and cheered with the crowds below who were staring at the Notre Dame. 

No, I didn't celebrate New Years Eve under the Eiffel Tower, but that's okay. There was a better way that hadn't even occurred to me before I made my plans.