Riots, natural disaster, and labor strikes worked against the city of Paris during the week we spent there. Before leaving Florence my parents had warned me of vicious riots taking place in the streets of Paris due to the labor reform, which caused many train conductors to go on strike. After talking to our host and were assured that Paris was safe we decided we would still go and not let this ruin our time there. Although, neither of us thought that we would be affected by the strikes, as well as the Seine River flooding more than 20 ft.
The entire time we were in Paris the sun did not shine once. Our first day there it poured nonstop, but that didn’t discourage us from walking to the Eiffel Tower and marveling at the size and details of the ironwork. Just like some other incredible monuments I was overwhelmed with joy to see this beautiful tower in person. After taking French all throughout high school and a couple semesters in college I had always seen pictures of it, but never thought I would be standing under it myself. Our last night in Paris I made Ben promise that we would see it at night lit up with yellow lights. There may have been a soccer match going on because at one point we heard crowds cheering and the next thing we know the tower is flashing bright white lights from top to bottom. It is one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in Europe.
The churches in Paris are of course beautiful as well. We went to Notre Dame one morning. From across the river it looked smaller than we had expected, but once we walked through the large doors we realized it was much bigger than we had expected. The stained glass and chandeliers were amazing along with the large arches towering over the altar and pews.
And of course the church bells were beautiful. We also went into Sacre Couer, “Sacred 
Heart” church where people have been praying consistently, nonstop for 125 years. It sat on top of a hill that overlooked Paris where we could see Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower.
So after trudging through the rain for a couple of days we finally caught a break and were able to visit the Palace of Versailles on a dry, gray day. We took a train to the palace but were unable to make it to the station closest for some reason. This was the start to our misfortunes with the public transportation. After spending the day looking at artwork of kings and queens with large foreheads and extravagant clothing, rooms with large fireplaces and detailed woodworking, a Hall of Mirrors, and perfectly trimmed hedges in the gardens we tried to make it back to Paris.
The train station was hectic with people walking around and many tourists not sure where to go. We couldn’t find the train we took on the way there on the schedule so I went up to some policemen to ask if they could help. (It’s true what they say about the French, they do not like Americans. Each time I would ask if someone spoke English in French they would say “Only a little” and proceed to answer my question in perfect English with a very little trace of an accent) So they explained another way for us to get home, then after a little while of waiting in the cold and seeing no train coming the cops came down to us and told us to take a different train. We waited a while longer and the train finally arrived. Ben and I grabbed the first seats we saw and waited for the train to fill up and haul us back to the capitol, the Seine River had other ideas though. Due to major flooding the tracks of this train were underwater so we had to get off and wait for another train. It took us a total of three hours to get back home with all this confusion and waiting due to conductors being on strike and the floods.
Now being the bookworm that I am I knew that Paris was a popular city for Modernist writers (Gertrude Stein, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Ford Maddox Ford, etc.) so I dragged Ben to a café where Hemingway and Fitzgerald would hang out and bounce ideas off of each other. When we arrived outside of La Closerie des Lilas I wasn’t expecting to see a beautiful restaurant with flowers and vines growing along the building and on the patio by the front revolving door. 
I had always pictured a small coffee shop when professors would talk about the cafes these writers would go. A café in Paris is actually a bar or a restaurant, if they happen to serve coffee then they can consider themselves a café. It was a lovely place with men 
in suits and women drinking tea. We sat in a greenhouse style part of the restaurant on comfortable couches and chairs and ordered a cocktail. Of course I had to get the one named “Gatsby” in honor of my reason for visiting. It was extremely overpriced but I’m glad I went and sat in the same place as famous writers I admire.
The rainy weather set a perfect atmosphere for our visit to the dark catacombs in Paris. The first process of going through the catacombs is to walk down a stone spiral staircase that seems like it will never end after you descend it for a couple of minutes. We had to stop a couple times to reorient ourselves. Finally we had to walk through long dimly lit corridors for about a half-mile. Psyching myself out I kept thinking about the tunnels collapsing and picturing all of the human bones we would see in a few short minutes. After many turns and tight quarters we made it into a large room with information about what we were going to be walking into. Still creeping myself out I examined a fossil on one of the tables and a boy behind me coughed in the silent room. I could have jumped right out of my skin I was so startled grabbing my heart. The group that saw me chuckled to themselves and turned away from me. Red-faced and embarrassed I grabbed Ben and we walked into the grave.
There were millions of bones stacked methodically on each other. The piles were taller than me and reached many feet back to the wall. I had never seen an actual human skull in my life and seeing the remains of people from hundreds of years ago was an experience I will always remember. We had been to a few cemeteries while in Europe, but this was by the far the creepiest and most moving. To see the remnants of what used to be living, breathing people hit me harder than seeing a marble tombstone with a name.
I now fully understand what my mom means when she says that I have champagne taste on a beer budget. The city of Paris is filled with beautiful architecture, monuments, and people. The metro system is amazing and so easy to use and except for the strikes and flooding, runs smoothly. I can definitely see myself living in this city sitting at a café drinking espresso watching Parisians walk through the streets, however it is much more expensive than I thought to spend time there. Our stop here was worth every penny though.
From Europe With Love
xoxo
From Peru With Love 