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Two updates in a day, sorry guys. But there are more pictures now, because I have more than half my battery left and I might as well abuse it (there are actually more than that, but I'm running out of bandwidth on my Flickr for this month). There are pictures from the tail end of Paris, London, and just a few minutes ago.
My little walk up to Sacre Coeur was... not little. I'm not sure if this was overlooked in anyone else's study of Paris, but the thing is up a freaking mountain. (Chicago is flat, okay, so this thing is a mountain.) Stairs! Holy stairs, and people. So, my eternal disdain for stairs further cemented (they are now above cobblestone streets, which had surpassed them only recently when I was walking around Bankside in London and twisting my ankle every few feet), I made my way up to the top, dodging tourists, buskers, and peddlers. It was an adventure. And what a view! What a giant rabble of people. Suits and students and all other sorts. They kicked us out at 7:30, so I went in search of food. I ended up with a sandwich and a chocolate croissant, which I ate while walking to the Moulin Rouge. It's amazing the difference between this part of Paris and the part south of the river. In stark contrast to the tiny alleys, austere storefronts and quaint restaurants and cafes of the rive gauche, I just found myself on a giant mountain and then walked down onto a boulevard full of neon-signs and sex shops (mostly in tandem).
Also, the Moulin Rouge is right next to a Quick, which seems to be France's answer to McDonalds (most of them are right next to McDonalds). And across the street is a Starbucks. I... on one hand I find this very appropriate, and on the other... have they no shame?
My little walk up to Sacre Coeur was... not little. I'm not sure if this was overlooked in anyone else's study of Paris, but the thing is up a freaking mountain. (Chicago is flat, okay, so this thing is a mountain.) Stairs! Holy stairs, and people. So, my eternal disdain for stairs further cemented (they are now above cobblestone streets, which had surpassed them only recently when I was walking around Bankside in London and twisting my ankle every few feet), I made my way up to the top, dodging tourists, buskers, and peddlers. It was an adventure. And what a view! What a giant rabble of people. Suits and students and all other sorts. They kicked us out at 7:30, so I went in search of food. I ended up with a sandwich and a chocolate croissant, which I ate while walking to the Moulin Rouge. It's amazing the difference between this part of Paris and the part south of the river. In stark contrast to the tiny alleys, austere storefronts and quaint restaurants and cafes of the rive gauche, I just found myself on a giant mountain and then walked down onto a boulevard full of neon-signs and sex shops (mostly in tandem).
Also, the Moulin Rouge is right next to a Quick, which seems to be France's answer to McDonalds (most of them are right next to McDonalds). And across the street is a Starbucks. I... on one hand I find this very appropriate, and on the other... have they no shame?
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Oh god, I remember those stairs. Do they still have that ridiculous little trolley/slanted elevator for people who are unable to walk the stairs themselves?
I got a portrait of myself done on Montmartre. It seemed like the thing to do. I still have it in my room in Hilo.
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They still have the ridiculous trolley, yes. The stairs are really awkward and numerous, but an elevator thing seems a bit much. It's even marked on the transit maps as its own special thing.
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