More Ride Descriptions

But first, more descriptions of rides. As I said, Space Mountain was very cool and fast, but bumpy. While Sarah and I went on that, Em and Daddy went on the Autopia ride, where she could reach the pedals and drive! She got pretty excited about that. Sarah and Daddy visited the “Phantom Manor”—Em was not quite tall enough, I didn’t want a baby swap. All four of us got to ride Big Thunder Mountain, and the girls loved it. They screamed at the top of their little lungs for the whole ride! Every time Sarah started, Em had to join her. It was cool going on Star Tours and hearing the narration in French.

Off to Paris!

Tuesday morning, with an itinerary that would challenge a veteran traveler, we planned to visit the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Louvre. First thing, we maneuvered our way through Paris’ Metro, a huge maze of underground transportation, and found the Eiffel Tower. As our train came up from underground, we all saw the Tower looming just to our right. What a beautiful thing! I remember being here before, but it still impressed me at the beauty of its design, the sheer look of it, the kind of comforting way it looks over the whole city.

The girls got very excited when they saw the tower peeking at them from behind the city buildings from their train window.

The location of Tour Eiffel (TE for short) sat a few blocks away from the train stop. We waited in the very long line to ride the elevators, actually funiculars, to the top. S&E both expressed “whoa” and “wow” several times at how tall it is.

We took the yellow lift up to the third level and walked, er rather crawled around the perimeter with the throngs of visitors—the mass of humanity-- waiting for the next lift to take all of us to the top.

What a gorgeous view! The girls were duly impressed with all they could see from this vantage point and we did as all tourists do—walked around and around, took pictures and video, and then, unlike the last time I visited, we rode the lift back down. Unfortunately, we did not get our family’s picture taken there, as I had hoped we would for our Christmas picture. Oh well.

At the bottom, after all the walking, the standing in line, the walking around, the standing in more lines, walking, lines, walking, we felt very tired and hungry, bordering on grumpy. After sitting for a little while, we walked back toward the metro. By this time it was already 3:30 pm, and I wondered about seeing the other items on our list.

It began to rain, and we did what we do best: we found a great bar/brasserie and ate. The servers were great. At first they seemed to want to act like the reputed rude Parisians we’ve heard so much about, but our girls warmed each of them and we got great service, plus delicious food. The rain died down, we were full of great food (I had French Onion soup and tea with some nice bread), so we ventured outside to explore.

I needed a pharmacy (for my sinus issues) and remembered all the green crosses from previous trips to Europe. We found one and went in, but it was like no pharmacy I’ve ever been before! Nothing like Walgreens, that’s for sure! One wall displayed prescription eyeglass frames, and another wall featured “tres chic” cosmetics. After waiting and browsing for a few minutes I definitely knew it was not the type of pharmacy I needed.

While walking around, we found the Hilton of Paris. Of course we called it the Paris Hilton, silly! My husband needed a picture of him in front of it, so we stopped there for a while.

Then we walked in the vague direction of the train stop, browsed through a darling little market, and just a few blocks toward the stop, we found just the pharmacy we wanted.

Funny thing about translations: I had asked a nice young woman to write in French the term “sinus medication.” When she wrote it, I was satisfied that it looked like it said just that. When I asked the pharmacist, and showed her the note, she went straight to the wall and got me some lotion for the bags under my eyes. We got it straightened out that I’d keep my bags, but would like my sinuses to feel better, and she gave me some sinus meds.

So, Tuesday afternoon, after seeing one thing from our list, we rode the train back to our hotel.

Wednesday

Today, we took another train trip to Paris, this time for Notre Dame and whatever else we could manage to see. We would pick the day they announced the new pope, and of course Our Lady was very crowded. Still, we all could not believe the beauty of the architecture and the magnificence of the cathedral along with the grounds surrounding it.

In the front courtyard, a man with the typical beret, dark sunglasses and a cigarette, grabbed Sarah’s hand (kind of worried me for a second), put bread in it and showed her to pinch the bread while holding it upward. Sparrows began to fly to her and ate out of her hand! Can’t wait to see those pictures! She giggled so much, the man gave some more to her, and also gave some to Emily. They both giggled and screamed so much, they nearly became a tourist attraction! It was great fun.

After walking inside, warning the girls it was a place to be respectful, we looked at the magnificent stained glass windows, the nave, the alter, everything. We found a place where candles had been lit, and Sarah and I were both moved to do something out of my nature.

We each lit a candle for our dear friend Karine. We are not Catholic; we know Karine was not Catholic, but we had kept a candle lit for her at home before she died, and it just seemed appropriate to light one for her here, where so many prayers and flames went up into the air for so many people.

We walked around the corner, and voila! There was what I had hoped we’d find: a small kiosk with a crepe maker! I did the ordering; Scott had a “jambon e fromage” (ham and cheese), the girls got a poulet (chicken), and I got a poulet e fromage (chicken and cheese). Then I ordered the nutella crepe for dessert. Nutella is a thick sauce made of hazelnuts and chocolate. YMMMM! I was relieved to find that they were only €2.5 ($3.75 US). Much better than the €9 price I had seen inside Disneyland. Starving and poor students were saved. They could still afford crepes at least.

This was the day that Sarah nearly walked into the street and got hit by a truck. I’m just so glad she turned around to my scream. The truck missed her by just about a foot. I don’t even know if her dad saw it. Just a few hours later, Emily did the same thing! Scott and I both screamed her name, and she was saved, too.

We walked along the Seine, looking at architecture, finding the far away TE, and it was still large, even in the distance. While looking at the river from the bridge, Scott made the comment—“look at those ducks in the river! Their INseine ducks!” So, that was one of our re-occuring jokes throughout the week.

He also loved to ask the girls if French cows said “le moo” and French dogs said “le barque”, and so forth. It was great for laughs on the train.

On the way back to our hotel, Emily got her hand stuck in the door to one of the many train changes we made. Boy, did that hurt! By the time we got to our room, though, she was much better.

Thursday, we left the hotel at 5:15 am. Yes, in the morning. We got up at 4:30 to be ready to meet our group at 5:30 so that we’d make the first train out of Paris to catch the Eurostar (chunnel) to London. After arriving at the place we needed in Paris (to catch the coach to catch the London train), we found that our confirmed reservation had been cancelled because it was not paid by 7:00 the previous evening. Had I known this when we got to the room at 10:30, I wouldn’t have stayed up until 1:30 trying to fax the credit card payment information and might have got a good night’s sleep! Oh well.

We took the opportunity to get a great French breakfast complete with eggs(!), and dark, French coffee. Then we four walked across the street to the beginning of the Jardin de Tuilleries. It was so full of tulips and poppies, the colors nearly overwhelmed us. The girls played, I got to sit and read a book for awhile, and Scott went exploring for an ATM.

The girls loved the play structures in the Jardin. They played for about an hour.

This was the day to go to the Louvre. We walked and walked (my blisters got blisters!), and found the beautiful museum. There are quite a lot of new halls; we visited the Large format European paintings, the Mona Lisa (of course), and some of the statuary. Sarah couldn’t get over how good all the artists were. How she needed a bit of practice to get as good as that.

We got on a train and head for the catacombs. As we headed for the building, crossing the street, I saw my dear husband falling down on the cobblestone. I screamed like I've never screamed before, and ran to him. He had been pushing Emily's stroller, and it went down too. She began to cry. Here's where the infamous French people gave the lie to their reputation. Four men helped Scott off the ground. A very kind woman went into the nearest Brasserie and got ice for Emily's head. She was crying so much--it had scared her more than hurt her. We all calmed ourselves a little, and began to walk on to the catacombs.

We wanted to see the skeletons. When we reached the location, we found that the catacombs will be closed until May 2005. Bummer. But, we found a place for some lunch, a very nice park, and had ourselves a very nice, needed rest for awhile.

It was getting late, and Emily had fallen a few times, so we decided that, even though my dream of dreams in Paris was to visit the muse d’orsay (museum of Impressionist Art), we would return to the hotel. Yawn. We were sure tired!

We had dinner and walked to our room. I felt pretty tired, and lay down on the bed. Suddenly, I felt a fast pounding in my chest and the feeling that a brick was on it. I sat up, moved over to the window, opened it, and called Scott. My heart felt as if it would come strait out of my chest. After about ten minutes of it not settling, I permitted Scott to call the front desk's emergency number. Within 3 minutes, seven paramedics, the hotel manager, and a doctor were in our hotel room giving me a portable ekg,

The ekg read that my heart was up to 227 beats per minute. My blood pressure was 180 over 105. They injected me with something, and after about five more minutes, my heart began to slow. It stabalized at 110 beats per minute, so they all picked me up, put me on a stretcher and took me to their local hospital.

The ER doc there was very kind (so were the nurses!). He saw that I was stable, wanted to run a few more tests, told me to rest as well as I could. He returned after awhile and said he had all the paperwork ready for me to look into the insurance paying for it. I asked him at this point if what happened was due to stress or anxiety. He said, "Non, madame, it was definitely your heart."

He offered for me to stay at the hospital, but felt it would be more comfortable for me to be in the hotel with my family. He was right. I wanted to go back to them soon. He gave me instructions to see a cardiologist on Monday after I return home. So, an ambulance came and got me and left me at our hotel's front desk. The night manager walked me back to my room. I got back at 3:00am, just enough time to get a few hours of sleep before our trip to Disneyland the next day, er, rather, that day.

My eyes right now are closing whether or not I want them to, so I'm going to finish the trip news tomorrow.