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part six of my whirlwind tour of paris, london, and vancouver: robot toilets, because i've always wanted to call an entry robot toilets, haven't you?

2011-12-01 - 9:28 p.m.

all photos this page � 2011 by elaine radford

Peachfront's Note: You are reading part 5 of my crazy whirlwind city tour of London, Paris, and Vancouver. Click back a few pages to start with part 1.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

What trip to Paris could be complete without a visit to a boulangerie full of temptations to pick out breakfast? I don't really know the names of most baked goods even in English but I pointed to something tasty and had a small picnic in the park. Then it was time to descend into the eerie Catacombes of Paris, where you will find the neatly and artfully arranged bones of 6 million people. I had read that you needed to get there early and expect to stand in line, but this wasn't the case first thing on a late November Sunday morning. There was a small school group that went ahead of me, disappearing down the stairs at high speed never to be encountered again, and I soon found myself wandering the stairs and then the hallways entirely alone for long, creepy moments at a time. The ossuary was opened in the late 1700s because of massive over-crowding in the church graveyards around Paris, which somehow caused disease. (I did not much care to speculate how an overcrowded graveyard could cause disease, but maybe it promotes rats?) The site was originally a limestone quarry, so it had been excavated for quite a distance and, in a few places, had a drippy, cavelike "feel." I was glad to have my flashlight, because the lights were dim, and everyone else seemed to have vanished. Eventually, I found myself in front of some carvings made in the limestone by a quarry worker. A little later, I encountered two signs. One advised: Arr�te, c'est ici l'empire de la Mort, and the other, in various languages, said that to protect the "patrimony" it was not allowed to take flash photographs. Hence, I had to experiment with photographing the bones by pointing the flashlight at whatever I wished to photograph and setting the camera for 1/30 speed.

The ossuary proper was not so abandoned as the rest of the catacombs, but it was still pretty empty at that time of day, and I was left alone for long periods of time. Over the course of time, the bodies had rotted away to nothing except clean bone, and they had mostly been stacked very neatly, in a most efficient "stacking" pattern. Sometimes the skulls were placed to create crosses or arches in the walls of bones, which somehow seemed even more gruesome than just stacking the skulls and the long bones in alternate rows. Can't really describe it. A bit like how some people would use field stone to make a fence, by picking and choosing the stone pieces so that they would stack neatly and efficiently without the need for any mortar.

After awhile, I believed that I had walked past all 6 million of the eerily silent dead. Efficiently packed or not, that's a lot of dead people, and it takes a long time to make your way through the truly eerie passageways. From time to time, I felt a shiver from a cold yet invisible finger at the back of my neck....

Funny how the trip had taken on this Halloween/graveyard theme, isn't it? Oh, and because of the size of the underground cavern, while the entrance to the Catacombes is right across from the Denfert-Rochereau Metro entrance, I exited God-knows-where and wandered around quite a bit before I located another Metro stop, whose name I've forgotten, but it had a modern yellow "M" to mark its location, while Denfert-Rochereau had one of the classic Art Deco (Art Nouveau?) entrances like Cit� does. Speaking of Cit�, I headed that way, emerging to the sound of canaries and singing finches song-fighting to the crowd. Yes, it was the Sunday Paris bird market! I enjoyed the colorful and tuneful birdies for a time and then drifted around to Notre Dame. It had a large Christmas tree in front of it, but it still had that slightly edgy atmosphere from some restless spirit that seems to be a tad cross about all the tourists. I had forgotten it, but I remembered it again, as I tiptoed quietly through the building. Don't get me wrong. The French people, the Notre Dame priests, and everyone on the material plane seemed to be most welcoming of visitors. But I just get this weird "buzz" that there's a bitter invisible there who resents all the attention. Well, we have spoilers on the material level, so why not bitter spoilers on the astral? This spoiler doesn't actually seem to be able to do much, other than radiate a bit of hostility, so no doubt its petty sulks are best ignored.

Well, let's not get too woo-woo. I hopped on another Metro train and headed for Montmartre. I spent a great deal of time in that area on my first visit, but I was eager to go back and enjoy the viewpoint of the city from Sacred Coeur. It was a nice afternoon, with some trees still in autumn color, while some of the shops already had their Christmas lights. I forget which Metro stop I took but I came up the stairs from the side and approached the church, where a sign informed us (in English!) that people had been praying here nonstop to God for 125 years. Great views. Down the stairs across the green, where most of the North African guys who used to do the string hustle were now selling handbags. (Although I did see the string hustle attempted a few times, they weren't catching anyone; I conclude that the hustle is about played out.) Also, I never saw so many three card monte games going in my entire life.

Oh, and I must make mention of something I don't remember from my last trip. Maybe it's a new public innovation. To wit, they have installed these public toilets that are free (which is nice) but they are sort of robot toilets. After EVERY person, the toilet shuts down for a few minutes to clean the toilet...and by clean, I mean that THEY EVEN WASH THE FLOORS. While their dedication to cleanliness is admirable, I think it has been a long time since Paris has been overrun by barefoot peasants. We are all wearing shoes, especially on a late November afternoon. Might I suggest that most of us middle-aged ladies would prefer a shorter wait in line and maybe they only wash the floors once an hour?

Still, robot toilets. For free. In Paris. Now I have truly seen everything.

A glass of mulled wine. The shopping was crazy/hectic on the stroll down in the direction of the Anver Metro stop. Cheap too. I probably should have bought more, but all I got was a orange and gray scarf for 1.50 euro which has Paris printed on it in various letters. I liked the colors. We're talking polyester, not silk, but it will have its uses. Really, I should have bought several more, but I just wasn't in the shopping frame of mind.

To skip ahead, I was too embarrassed to put on my customs form that I spent less than $3 shopping in Paris, so I put that the estimated value of the scarf was $5. We'll hope that a minor fudge like that can't be considered a violation of U.S. customs laws. I've upset the authorities enough for one trip!

Next I went to the Arc de Triomphe and took a stroll along the Champs-Elyse�. A lot of the stores were just stores, the same ones you find everywhere, be it Waikiki or Caesar's Forum Shoppes. I noticed the Aviation Club, but it looked sort of cheap rather than first class, since they were doing work on the entrance and therefore they had a temporary entrance that appeared to be made of cardboard. I had heard absolutely nothing that made me want to gamble there, so I strolled on, enjoying the Christmas lights and trying to get up an appetite on a cool afternoon. It sprinkled (or maybe you'd just consider it a mist) a few times, but otherwise the weather was good for walking. In such a crowd, you wouldn't want it too warm.

I found a bistro, ate an omelet, headed for the train station. If I had understood how convenient the Marriott Rive Gauche was to the train station, I would have stayed there both of my nights in Paris, because it was no trouble at all to catch the train for the airport. However, not knowing, I had pricelined one night for in town and one night in the ghetto of airport hotels that is the town of Roissy. I caught the train to the airport terminal two and then found the free bus, which must circulate often, because it was there right away. On to the hotel. I guess the Marriotts in France get a lot of business from priceline, because it was a different Marriott, not nearly as froo-froo as the Rive Gauche but still very nice indeed, especially for the price I paid. I had a glass of wine in the comfy lounge, which wasn't too extortionate, and the bartender even came around and gave me a bowl of cut-up fruit candies. Can't think of a better way to describe them...a bit like jujubes, I think. I guess you can tell I'm not much of a candy eater. But it was a nice gesture. Once again, even though other people assure me that people in Paris are rude, I just don't see it. Everyone seemed perfectly nice to me.

Monday, November 28, 2011

The hotel had a little electronic sign that told you when the black bus was coming, and it arrived pretty much on the dot. To the airport, where I told the lady that I was a Delta Gold and that I wanted aisle seats. She pointed me to a different lady, who called someone and, badda-boom, it was done. Then I headed for the lounge. No problem getting a free visit to the CDG lounge. No infamous lounge dragons. The food was heavy on the croissant end of things but what do you expect? It was Paris. There was a cappucino/espresso machine and a help yourself bar. I sampled both of these goodies. However, considering the hour, I just put a sprinkle of vodka in my Bloody Mary, just to say I did.

CDG-AMS. A short flight, aisle seat, no one placed in the middle seat.

At AMS, I wanted to check something I'd been told about on flyertalk, so I went to one of the self service machines and went through the check-in process, even though I'd already been checked in. The machine came up and asked me if I wanted to upgrade to business class for 339 euros. That's what I was checking on. Several people had said they got these offers. If it was a night flight, I would have snapped it up without thinking. However, it was a daytime flight, and I was already enjoying the other business class benefits of lounge access, priority boarding, and so on, just for being Gold. Also, the exchange rate for the dollar versus the euro was particularly bad that week. All in all, I couldn't really justify the money. The machine nudged me, saying something like, "You haven't responded in a long time," and I finally told it to leave me in the seat where the nice clerk had put me instead of selling me the upgrade. If I'd still been working and bringing in money, I would have gone for it...but I just couldn't quite justify it on this occasion.

On to the lounge, where the AMS employees had opened several bottles of champagne in addition to the rest of the goodies. Hey. I was about to board a ten hour flight. Who says mileage runs can't be fun? I poured myself some champagne and then explored this club room, soon discovering a room called "Deep Rest" which was a Japanese-like room of "pods" where people could sleep. I didn't need any rest that early in the day, so I just filed the information in the memory banks and continued to enjoy the free-flowing champagne.

AMS-YVR. No interrogation at the gate. The search was a breeze. What the--? Is it really that much easier to fly to Canada than to the USA? Sometimes I wonder if George Washington and friends didn't make a big mistake somewhere.

Onboard the aircraft, I discovered that I had been upgraded into an Economy Comfort aisle seat, even though I didn't pay for it. Heh heh. I told you people in Paris were nice. Especially that KLM check-in lady. I'll lift a glass of champagne to you, madame. The flight was completely full, which I suppose is why they wanted to sell upgrades, so that they could put more standbys in the economy cabin, but I had plenty of room even though I had a lady sitting next to me -- she told me that she got a free EC upgrade too. (There was no middle seat.) It would still be worth upgrading to business class if it was a night flight but for daytime, it was great. My only gripe with KLM was that they provided these stupid headphones that have curvy parts over your ears. A person who needs reading glasses can't both wear the headphones AND wear their reading glasses, so they can't use the in flight entertainment. Good thing I brought a thick book.

In Vancouver I caught the Skytrain to downtown and pretty much walked the entire downtown since I zigged when I should have zagged upon leaving the station. It was quite atmospheric though, with all the interesting buildings, so I probably got turned around snapping photos more than I should have. Eventually, I found my hotel, which was only a few blocks away from Stanley Park. I dropped my bag and took a stroll to the park. As night fell and the Canada geese flew in for the evening, I could watch the skyscrapers light up across the water.

The Korean area was between the park and my hotel -- could be, the Asians who operated the hotel were themselves Korean -- and I randomly picked a Korean restaurant for dinner. I had a very good spicy seafood soup but I let the kimchee alone.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The last day! My inner clock was out of whack, and I got up around 5 in the morning. It would be dark for hours yet, but hey, it's Canada. Little old ladies can walk around in the dark. I grabbed my flashlight and headed out for a stroll to the park. There were a few joggers and bicycle riders getting their exercise before work, but it was pretty quiet, and I got all sorts of beautiful views of the boats (some in Christmas lights) and the city. Even when it was quite dark, I could spot the Bufflehead ducks on the water, especially the males, because the white patches caught the light.

I walked all the way to Lion's Gate Bridge, so I walked almost four hours round trip. Well, it wouldn't take a jogger four hours, but I had to inspect every Bufflehead and Wigeon, talk to the disgruntled Juncos, consider the views from a variety of angles, and re-introduce myself to the Totem Poles. A special moment: I came right up on three otters. They paused a moment in the path, considered my hand reaching for the camera, and slowly slid into the water.

Skytrain to the airport. My cheap ticket was MSY-ATL-LHR, CDG-AMS-YVR. So you can see that I needed to buy a ticket to get from YVR to MSY. I used frequent flyer miles on American Airlines, rather than purchasing a costly one-way ticket with cold hard cash. Once at the airport, I got help getting checked in, telling the lady that I would prefer an aisle seat with no one sitting next to me. I didn't expect much, because I have no status there, but she got me a row of three seats, with nobody in it but myself, for the YVR-DFW leg. DFW-MSY was completely full, but "you're in an aisle already, so you'll be OK." Wheee.

Little did I know it, but American Airlines had just declared bankruptcy, that very day, and perhaps that very minute. They did not load any food YVR-DFW. That's right. No food, for a four hour INTERNATIONAL flight. Not even a bag of peanuts. I can conclude that they must have stiffed their peanut provider. And, there was only one drink service, but I did (politely) insist on an entire can. The other people for several rows ahead of me never thought to ask, and I was starting to worry that it wouldn't be allowed, but when I made the request, she just smiled and said, "Of course." I'm sure the FAs hate pouring out little cans of Coke and waiting, waiting, WAITING for it to fuzz down just as much as I hate getting one little cup of Coke, mostly ice, when I really need an entire can of liquid refreshment.

at this hour i had the totem poles completely to myself!

At DFW, I used my phone to get online and verified that, yes, AA had indeed declared bankruptcy. (I knew it was coming, just didn't know when.)

Got three tacos at the Taco Bell. Hey, it can't all be champagne in the clubroom. Got another full can, this time club soda, DFW-MSY. And then I was back in New Orleans. The whirlwind crazy tour of three international cities was over almost before I knew what hit me.

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