Note: I have not been able to post any pictures since boarding the boat in Paris four days ago, although posting prose is no problem. I hope to catch up after the cruise during our four days in Paris. In the meantime, I’ll just keep writing whenever I have the chance. I’m well aware that pictures are better, but it is what it is. As I write this, we are already on the second half of the cruise, riding a bus to the Normandy beaches, a couple of hours from where our boat is docked in Rouen.
On the way to the monument at Oradour we stopped in the little town for a quick lunch and struck up a conversation with the couple at the next table in the little outdoor café. Brian and Barbara, two jolly Brits—or more accurately, Liverpudlians (you know, Beatle country)—had met on the internet and married a few years ago, after what we surmised were a couple of tragic lives until that point. Both had lost a child, among other life losses, and Brian said that at the age of 55, he decided to chuck his chartered accountancy, cash in his few chips, and spend his remaining days enjoying life. After meeting Barbara, they pooled their resources, left England, and were restoring an old farmhouse in central France. At the moment they were on a road trip with their dog in a self-sufficient RV continuing their quest to see all of France. They were very sweet, and seemed so delighted with each other. I asked if I could take their picture so I could remember them and they were pleased to oblige.
After visiting the Village of Martyrs, we left for our last stop before Paris. Once again we got in later than I had hoped but the little hotel outside of Sancerre was attractive and wonderfully situated right on the banks of the Loire with several small restaurants nearby overlooking the river. We had a nice dinner right across the street and went to bed. The next morning we were on the road bound for Paris and the cruise.
Returning the car was easier than we deserved and we found the meeting point as instructed through the Viking literature. Of course, as is typical, it was hurry up and wait, and wait we did—for several hours. But in the meantime, we got acquainted with several of our future mates and the time passed quickly.
`
Tom and I are not cruisers, having been on only two cruises before, one through the Alaskan inner passage and one up the Bosporus from Athens to Istanbul many years ago. And a couple of one or two nighters here and there. This Viking River cruise is very different—more intimate with only 150 passengers, a lounge and a restaurant, a small library and an upper deck. We were shown to our cabins and we unpacked, the prospect of staying put for a whole week a very welcome one indeed. The cabins are marvels of efficiency with ample space for one’s stuff, comfortable and roomy beds, decent bathrooms and a large window from which to drink in the view. The bags fit under the beds and there’s no need to live out of a suitcase.
We knew from the schedule that we would remain docked in Paris the first night with a bus tour of the city the next morning and then free time to explore or return to the ship, or go to the Louvre. At the orientation, Mieke, our director, explained that there would be a schedule change: instead of leaving Paris at five the next afternoon we would leave at one. This was so we could get through the six locks along the Seine before the lock workers went on strike the next evening. The French strike constantly—everyone from train conductors to newspapermen to dock workers, some one is always indignantly protesting about something—but at least they have the courtesy to make public exactly when the strike will occur so that everyone can plan accordingly.
We took the morning tour of the city and it was very interesting and informative. Even though we have been there a few times on our own, a guided tour is a great way to get one’s bearings and learn something about the history of a place. The guide told us that the government is doing a great deal to cut down on the car traffic in the city and in fact the traffic was not bad at all. They haven’t gone so far as to tax people for driving in the city (as London does), but they have made the public transportation so attractive that people have figured out on their own that driving isn’t worth the hassle. For example, they have a system of “city bikes” where for a small fee (about 50 euros a year I think) you can get a card which allows you to pick up a bike anywhere in the city and drop it off near your destination. The bikes are parked in designated areas throughout the city. What a great idea! Of course, I’d be terrified to ride a bike on the streets of Paris, but I suppose you can get used to anything and there were certainly plenty of old ladies riding around on bikes!
The Metro and bus system are affordable and user friendly as well, with access to the schedules easily available by IPhone or posted conveniently. And you can buy a pass which allows unlimited use for a reasonable fee. As a result, car traffic in Paris has been cut by 70% in the last ten years! The city is cleaner, the pollution is less and people are less surly than before, according to Thierry, our funny and oh-so-French guide.
He pointed out that there is one exception to the reduced traffic: When there is a demonstration (and someone is always demonstrating about something) traffic can be disrupted and backed up for many kilometers! We ran into a few of those during the morning tour.
There is nothing like the streets of Paris to excite the senses and to quicken the pulse. Wrought iron balconies, ornate facades with niched statuary, window boxes heavy with geraniums, shops with dependable names like Chanel, Guerlain, and Hermes, wide boulevards lined with plane trees, and of course the Left Bank with its book stalls and sidewalk cafes. And the sights that everyone would recognize: The Arc de Triomphe, the Opera House, the magnificent Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Louvre (and even the controversial and in my opinion hideous I.M. Pei pyramid in front of it), the Musee d’Orsay, and the Eiffel Tower—all more or less clustered around the meandering Seine with its busy river traffic. Who wouldn’t be excited by all that?
On the way to the monument at Oradour we stopped in the little town for a quick lunch and struck up a conversation with the couple at the next table in the little outdoor café. Brian and Barbara, two jolly Brits—or more accurately, Liverpudlians (you know, Beatle country)—had met on the internet and married a few years ago, after what we surmised were a couple of tragic lives until that point. Both had lost a child, among other life losses, and Brian said that at the age of 55, he decided to chuck his chartered accountancy, cash in his few chips, and spend his remaining days enjoying life. After meeting Barbara, they pooled their resources, left England, and were restoring an old farmhouse in central France. At the moment they were on a road trip with their dog in a self-sufficient RV continuing their quest to see all of France. They were very sweet, and seemed so delighted with each other. I asked if I could take their picture so I could remember them and they were pleased to oblige.
After visiting the Village of Martyrs, we left for our last stop before Paris. Once again we got in later than I had hoped but the little hotel outside of Sancerre was attractive and wonderfully situated right on the banks of the Loire with several small restaurants nearby overlooking the river. We had a nice dinner right across the street and went to bed. The next morning we were on the road bound for Paris and the cruise.
Returning the car was easier than we deserved and we found the meeting point as instructed through the Viking literature. Of course, as is typical, it was hurry up and wait, and wait we did—for several hours. But in the meantime, we got acquainted with several of our future mates and the time passed quickly.
`
Tom and I are not cruisers, having been on only two cruises before, one through the Alaskan inner passage and one up the Bosporus from Athens to Istanbul many years ago. And a couple of one or two nighters here and there. This Viking River cruise is very different—more intimate with only 150 passengers, a lounge and a restaurant, a small library and an upper deck. We were shown to our cabins and we unpacked, the prospect of staying put for a whole week a very welcome one indeed. The cabins are marvels of efficiency with ample space for one’s stuff, comfortable and roomy beds, decent bathrooms and a large window from which to drink in the view. The bags fit under the beds and there’s no need to live out of a suitcase.
We knew from the schedule that we would remain docked in Paris the first night with a bus tour of the city the next morning and then free time to explore or return to the ship, or go to the Louvre. At the orientation, Mieke, our director, explained that there would be a schedule change: instead of leaving Paris at five the next afternoon we would leave at one. This was so we could get through the six locks along the Seine before the lock workers went on strike the next evening. The French strike constantly—everyone from train conductors to newspapermen to dock workers, some one is always indignantly protesting about something—but at least they have the courtesy to make public exactly when the strike will occur so that everyone can plan accordingly.
We took the morning tour of the city and it was very interesting and informative. Even though we have been there a few times on our own, a guided tour is a great way to get one’s bearings and learn something about the history of a place. The guide told us that the government is doing a great deal to cut down on the car traffic in the city and in fact the traffic was not bad at all. They haven’t gone so far as to tax people for driving in the city (as London does), but they have made the public transportation so attractive that people have figured out on their own that driving isn’t worth the hassle. For example, they have a system of “city bikes” where for a small fee (about 50 euros a year I think) you can get a card which allows you to pick up a bike anywhere in the city and drop it off near your destination. The bikes are parked in designated areas throughout the city. What a great idea! Of course, I’d be terrified to ride a bike on the streets of Paris, but I suppose you can get used to anything and there were certainly plenty of old ladies riding around on bikes!
The Metro and bus system are affordable and user friendly as well, with access to the schedules easily available by IPhone or posted conveniently. And you can buy a pass which allows unlimited use for a reasonable fee. As a result, car traffic in Paris has been cut by 70% in the last ten years! The city is cleaner, the pollution is less and people are less surly than before, according to Thierry, our funny and oh-so-French guide.
He pointed out that there is one exception to the reduced traffic: When there is a demonstration (and someone is always demonstrating about something) traffic can be disrupted and backed up for many kilometers! We ran into a few of those during the morning tour.
There is nothing like the streets of Paris to excite the senses and to quicken the pulse. Wrought iron balconies, ornate facades with niched statuary, window boxes heavy with geraniums, shops with dependable names like Chanel, Guerlain, and Hermes, wide boulevards lined with plane trees, and of course the Left Bank with its book stalls and sidewalk cafes. And the sights that everyone would recognize: The Arc de Triomphe, the Opera House, the magnificent Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Louvre (and even the controversial and in my opinion hideous I.M. Pei pyramid in front of it), the Musee d’Orsay, and the Eiffel Tower—all more or less clustered around the meandering Seine with its busy river traffic. Who wouldn’t be excited by all that?
I feel like I am on my own trip to Paris reading your blog. BTW we are trying city bikes here in Denver.
ReplyDeleteTom