European Adventure #1

After mis-reading a currency conversion chart, I decided that now was the time to visit Europe. Ok, ok, I know the exchange was rough, but I decided to go anyhow because flights were cheap and I like to party.

Of course, prior to my trip, people would always ask me why I had never been to Europe. The short answer is that it was just too far away.

It costs money to travel a long distance and my relationship with money is rocky at best. Also, time was a factor. Even with ducking out a bit early on Friday afternoon, it's a bit hard to squeeze France into a 3-day weekend. So, with time & money joining forces to work against me, I never went to Europe. Besides, I had a job. It's not like those cases of beer were going to put themselves on a shelf at 5 in the morning. However, had Europe been closer, say, in Nevada or in my spare bedroom, I probably would've made the trip sooner.

Anyhow, after 30 years, I finally made it "across the pond" and, yes, I still hate people who say "across the pond." And now you get to read all my adventure...or you could stop reading now. No biggie to me.

Over the years, I've seen many of my peers visit Europe and return drinking nothing but Guinness and listening only to Blur. Not that I have anything against Blur and/or Guinness, but I always found it odd that these vacations made people change their lives to reflect the places they had been. As if their biggest joy in life is drinking a Guinness and having someone say "You drink Guinness?" To which they can gleefully and proudly reply "Well, I did spend some time in Ireland...." Or perhaps they like the satisfaction of making eye contact with another Guinness drinker across the bar with whom they can share a special "I've been to Ireland too" head nod. Personally, I'm going to start purposefully "accidentally" referring to soccer as football and then laughing as I correct myself "Sorry, I just got so used to the customs on the other side of the pond."

The scary thing is, and this is 100% true, I've only been back a week and I've already made crepes twice.

Anyhow, without further ado, here is the first of many European Adventure posts.

Paris

I don't know if you've heard this, but Paris is a pretty nice place. It's put together quite nicely, has a river running through it, has lots of pretty things at which to look and the lighting is excellent. It is also a very old place. There are all these buildings that are hundreds and hundreds of years old. And nothing is up to code. Being a building inspector in Paris has got to be the cushiest gig in the world.

"Let's see... unlevel, slippery cobblestone stairs, poor ventilation, nothing wide enough for a wheelchair, no fire escape. Yup, everything appears to be in order. Let's drink wine."

We've pretty much ruined all our old timey buildings here in the US with codes, regulations and lawsuits. Besides we don't have anything as old as these old places in Paris. Well, we do, but they were built by Indians, not rich white folks, so most of us don't care. In general, we pretty much suck at caring.

Another thing you see a lot of in Paris is French people. They are everywhere! And, boy, do they think they own the place. All the streets that are wide enough for cars are filled with drivers honking and disregarding the safety of others. It's entertaining to watch.

You also see a lot of nicely dressed French couples. You see them walking down the street, in the middle of the day, and you wonder about their lives. Somehow, these Parisians seem to live romanticized lives in my mind. These are not people who force themselves out of bed at 6am to go to their menial clerk jobs. These are fancy French people with fancy french lives. He's an architect that makes his own hours and works in a loft office with plenty of natural light and she works at a flower shop, not to help make ends meet, but because she best expresses herself through floral arrangements. It's quite the life.

Another thing that separates Paris and other huge cities from the rest of the world are the gigantic advertisements. The entire side of a building will just be wallpapered with a huge perfume ad. Somehow, these gigantic ads make people like the city more. I'm not sure what it is. Usually advertisements are cheap and ruin the appearance of things, but these big boys in Paris act sort of like pop art and somehow actually class the place up. I don't get. It's just a big stupid ad for Dolce & Gabbana perfume, so I'm not sure how it works.

Speaking of Dolce & Gabbana - who I think are Italian and not French, I think they pretty much make the absolute stupidest clothes ever. Everything is black and gold. It's a very "Solid Gold Dancer" look. Even if I could afford their stuff, I'd still think it's stupid. Do I need a solid gold D&G belt buckle? Does anyone? Sheesh.

And another thing, isn't it awfully convenient that all these fancy fashion designers are equally gifted at developing perfume? Every expensive fashion line has a corresponding fragrance. Perhaps fashion colleges also offer extensive chemistry courses.

I like to picture Gabbana in front of the sewing machine all day while Dolce slaves away in the chemical laboratory.

But don't let my Dolce & Gabbana bashing suggest that I didn't enjoy myself in Paris. I loved Paris. The baguette with bacon baked right into was probably my second favorite meal of the trip...and there were like 10,000 meals, so that's pretty good.

Our hotel was an adorable little number in the Latin Quarter. A plaque on the wall suggested that Arthur Rimbaud stayed/lived in the building at some point. Apparently, the moody poet didn't mind a bathroom the size of a small coat closet...luckily, neither did we. Actually, I recommend taking it one step further and actually putting the commode right inside the shower. Talk about relaxation.

We ate pretty much all of our meals in the Latin Quarter as well. Fondue, crepes, French onion soup (which is just called "onion soup" there). It's kind of an interesting place to eat because the shop owners just stand out in front of their bistros barking you down like French carnies. Again, somehow this doesn't come off as sleazy, but charming. I dunno how they do it.

Of course, we also took the obligatory trip to the Louvre which is approximately the size of Utah. And, man, do they love Jesus in there! There must be thousands of masterfully done Jesus paintings in there. Of course, I walked up to each one and proclaimed "Jesus Christ!" - a joke which I never get tired of no matter how much it pains those around me. Also, Spinal Tap-esque "Intra-Venus De Milo" jokes did not go over well with those admiring the armless masterpiece.

For those who have never seen it, the Mona Lisa looks exactly how you've seen it on a million postcards and magnets and not much bigger. Perhaps, I've just become desensitized to its brilliance, but I was underwhelmed due to its overexposure throughout my life. It's like seeing a pristine dollar bill under glass. Nice, but too common. I preferred seeing the teensy tinsy lil "Lacemaker" from Vermeer.

Also of note, there's a Starbucks in Louvre. Just thought you should know.

Our hotel also featured a tiny movie theatre right across the street which advertised a Saturday, midnight showing of Daft Punk's "Electroma." Intrigued by this I went to the theatre as the clock turned from Friday 11:59pm to Saturday 12am. Of course, I was there on the wrong day. Apparently midnight on Saturday is actually midnight on Sunday. Luckily, it was a short walk back to the hotel and there was a place to get a cocktail in between. I blame Daft Punk and electronic music as a whole for the mix up.

Welp, I've typed way too much so I'm gonna take a break. Next up: "The Flight from Paris to Venice" or "Why I Hate Flying."