Paris - Day 7

On our final day in Paris, we decided to take it a bit easier.  We were going to sleep in, but a crow decided to park on our open window at around 5:30 this morning and squawk and squawk and squawk.  So, that was that.  Still, we had a leisurely morning figuring out our luggage sitation, both coming to the conclusion that we each needed a new suitcase.  Let me explain.  Accodring to the guidebooks, stores in Paris are only allowed to have sales twice a year.  I didn't know that we would happen to be here during one of those times.  Every single store has a big "SOLDE" sign, which indicates that they are having a sale.  And, I'm talking about 50, 60, 70 percent off.  And, this is on top of things already being quite reasonable.  Surprisingly reasonable.  As we got used to saying, "It's local."  What we mean by that is that French things that are expensive to us are mostly because they are IMPORTED.  Here, they're local.  For example, at home, Evian is the expensive water.  Here, it is the typical one.  It's like an Aquafina or something for us.  Or, you can get a bottle of perfectly good French wine for 3 Euros.  Same with some of the items in shops.  And, if you add to that the fact that there are sales, it's just too much to resist!  I have gotten a lot of Christmas gifts taken care of, a few memorable things for myself, and things to show my family that I was thinking of them every day.  Therefore, there was a need for a new suitcase.

For a long time, I have liked a brand of luggage called Lipault.  It is French.  But, it has been way too expensive for me to buy.  We went to a GIGANTIC luggage store today, and not only was the Lipault significantly cheaper than at Macy's, but it was on sale!  (Cathy bought an identical one.)  So, while I have no idea how I will get it down seven flights of stairs early tomorrow morning, I at least know that I have space for it all.

After buying our suitcases, and hauling them up seven flight of stairs, we went back down and hopped the metro to the Pere Lachaise cemetary.  This might not be on the "A" list for many people making a quick stop in Paris, but it is certainly worth a visit.  If you have ever seen the raised cemetaries of New Orleans, it is like that time acres and acres and acres and acres.  There are some notable people buried there, namely Chopin, Bizet, Edith Piaf, Jim Morrison, and Marie Callas.  My destination was the gravesite of Heloise and Abelard.  I think I mentioned in an earlier post that they were real life 12th century starcrossed lovers.  If you haven't heard of them, I recommend googling their story.  Anyway, the way to their grave was poorly marked.  We saw this beautifully ornate tomb, the largest in the cemetary, and took a picture of it by the pathway.  But, we were in a hurry to try to find their tomb.  We found the section that we thought it should be in, and aimlessly walked through narrow rows of tombs that were two times taller than us.  I found an English-speaking couple looking in the same place as us, equally confused.  So, we all split up to look.  Shortly after, Cathy said, "I found it!"  It was none other than the gorgeous one that we had bypassed.  Upon closer inspetion, we saw how truly beautiful it was.  It had a stone statue of Heloise (who had later become a nun(, and Abelard (who had later become a priest) , laying together in repose, a dog at their feet.  What we could read (in French) on the side, said that while they were separated in life, they were together in death.  

I tlook a lot of pictures here.  There were eerie family tombs with cobwebs draping from the doors as if they had put there as Halloween decorations.  There were statues of mothers holding their children, of women mourning, of a child playing, etc.  Whatever represented that person's life, memorialized in their death.  I will post pictures on FB when I get home.

AFter that, we took the metro to the Bastille stop.  As soon as you get out, you see a tall column standing where the Bastille used to be.  It was destroyed during the French revolution, but had been around since the mid-1300s, so it was very sad that it was no longer in existance.  A walk of just a few blocks took us to the gorgeous Place des Vosges.  Imagine a huge city square surrounded on all four sides by huge red brick townhouses, row after row of the same.  Victor Hugo lived there, and we were disappointed to find out that we were there on the ONE day of the week that w are closed.  Still, we got to take a picture by his front door, and enjoy the park as he might have.  Cathy took a nap and I read a book.  There were no tourists there, just a lot of French families playing with there children.  

We wanted to hit a few more shops in the Marais district before heading back, and went to a few that had been recommended by the guidebooks.  We weren't disappointed, and finished off our lists of who we needed to buy for.  We stopped by a tea room (Mariage Ferers) that has been there since 1846 (old for Paris, I guess), and then went to a wine cafe that had been recommended by a friend of Cathy's.  It had an warm, homey feel with beautiful artwork on the wall.  We each had a glass of French red wine (only 3.40 Euros!).  The proprieter was the cutest old man we'd ever seen, and we kept trying to snap surrepticious pictures of him.  When that never worked out, we finally asked him if we could take his picture.  I think he was flattered, and he then told us that he was the painter of all of the artwork.  And, he gave Cathy a postcard with some poetry that he had written.  I love those kinds of moments!

Our favorite moments have not been all of the beautiful sites, although they are infinite, but the moments with the people.  I don't know why the French get a bad rap.  They have been SO VERY NICE everywhere we have been.  The man at the wine bar.  The streetsaleman in St. Germaine who offered his assistance when we had a map out.  The boulangerie girl today who smiled so sweetly and practiced a little English with us.  Every shopkeeper who greets you with "Bonjour" before you've finished crossing the threshold.  The waiter who called us "princesses" at a cafe outside St. Madeleine.  The man at the macroom counter who brought the macroon chef out to meet us.  Our driver into Normandy who incited humorous moments that Cathy and I will be imitating for years.  The waitstaff who bring you your drink and never once make you feel unwelcome even if you're there for hours.  The people who are more than willing to take your picture when you ask.  It goes on and on.  The French people ended up being one of my FAVORITE things about this trip.  

So, with bags packed, we're heading downstairs for one last dinner,and a good night's sleep, dreaming, I hope, of a day in the future when we can return.