Paris, Part I

This would be a trip of firsts. Venturing out of Geneva at first light, we took the TGV (Train à Grande Vitesse) to Paris and went a mindnumbingly fast 300 km/h (186 mph), which took us into the heart of the city in three and a half hours. You know you're going fast when the passing phone poles make you think that you're blinking uncontrollably.

We checked into our hotel, Hotel Le Trois Poussins, which turned out to be a little gem of a place in the Opera District (9th). My review of the hotel is here. After making hurried attempts at unpacking, we jumped onto the metro at St. Georges station and took the 12 train towards the river. Emerging from the subterranean underground, we blinked like moles in the blinding sunlight until we found our sunglasses and stumbled our way to the Tuilleries.

Wandering northwest, we walked up the Champs-Elysées, leaping between the patches of shade that lined the street. Powered up with a street vendor-supplied sandwich and too many cans of Coke, we ventured up towards the Arc de Triomphe, stopping only to pick through the meager English section of a Virgin megastore and watch the people who were people watching us.

We took pictures of ourselves but dared not venture to the Arc itself because of the mongol hordes of tourists that seemed to flock to it like carrion. We opted instead to stroll down avenue Kleber and found ourselves, still on the right bank, but on the western side of the city, where the Seine makes a sharp southern turn, in the Trocadéro district. Lolly-gagging through the parks, we gazed across the Seine at what looked to be the infield at Pimlico during Preakness: the Eiffel Tower. If you've never been to Preakness, imagine a NASCAR event where all of the people outside of the stadium are now in the middle of the track. We picked our way through the throngs of tourists underneath the shadow of the tower, took some pictures, and stared at the numerous hen parties (bachelorette) that were subjecting the brides-to-be to do some comedic routine. I patted myself on the shoulder for opting not to propose at the Eiffel Tower.

We fueled up on gelato and jumped onto the metro headed for Notre Dame.

Flickr set from Paris is here.