The Ups and Downs of Paris

I only have one word to defend myself against disappointment and raised eyebrows in light of my long absence: classes. I'm doing actual work now, so I don't have as much time to play around with the pictures that I take and the words that I write. In consolation, this one is epic.

{Saturday, September 20}

The final session of Propédeutique took place on Thursday morning, wherein we all took yet another test to prove that we've learned from it. Afterward, Cody and I lunched and then went to the Catacombs. For those of you who are unaware, there is an enormous network of underground tunnels beneath Paris - about 300 km worth. The small fraction of these that remains in use is the final resting place of millions of deceased Parisians, moved there from several cemeteries throughout the city.

As we paid for our tickets, I looked over at Cody and confided that I don't like closed spaces. The sings at the entrance suggesting that the ossuaries may be upsetting to children and "persons of a nervous disposition" didn't reassure me, either. But down the stairs we went, nonetheless - down many, many stairs, spiraling further into the dark caverns hidden under the City of Light.

The first few rooms are bright and covered in plastic signs with information about the tunnels, like a museum whose walls just happen to be made of rock...and underground. Then, there are several more minutes of darker tunnels



with the occasional sign or oddity, such as the replicas of a couple of other French monuments

carved from memory by an artist who was killed by a cave-in while trying to dig an access staircase to his work from the street above, a rather crushing blow to his ego {thank you, thank you}. Finally, after having stopped expecting to see bones around every corner, we looked up to find this sign above a doorway

Stop! This is the empire of the dead.

And it is. Horrifying, fascinating, beautiful - these words only begin to describe the experience of seeing literal walls of ancient skulls and femurs and crosses made entirely of bones, standing inches away from what was buried in a cemetery hundreds of years ago, and reading the chilling inscriptions carved into stone blocks littered throughout the mass tomb. Example: "Happy he who always has before his eyes the hour of his death, and who spends each day about to die." I suppose you could contend that there's a certain amount of morbidity required to enjoy this kind of thing, which is true, but if you ever get the chance to make it down there, I promise it will make an impression on you.

A stone altar at which they actually used to have masses. Creeptacular. Also, since we were keeping our voices down in order to be respectful, I amused myself at various points throughout our journey by reading the Latin text on the stone tablets in an ominous whisper.

I was also quite amused when we saw this particular sign

because as we stood there reading it, Cody got suddenly puzzled, and I helped him solve one of the great mysteries of his French-speaking career.

Cody: Oh, man, what does that word mean? I've seen it so many times and I've never known what it is.
Caroline: What word?
Cody: 'Hélas'.
Caroline: Uh...it means 'alas'.
Cody: Really?
Caroline: Yeah.
Cody: Oh.

After maybe an hour and a half, we climbed up the "escalier difficile" {"difficult staircase"; there was actually a sign recommending that you climb slowly, because there were 83 steps} and returned to the surface and the land of the living. Walking back up rue Daguerre toward the IES Center, we stopped to enjoy one of our favorite features of this particular domain: gelato.

As you can see, it is the prettiest gelato I have ever eaten; it was also incredibly delicious. I had L'inimitabile {basically chocolate and hazelnut - think Nutella-flavored gelato} on the inside, and coffee on the outside. For those of you who have tasted the wonder that is Gray's coffee ice cream, this is of that heavenly quality. Also, it was relatively cheap, for Paris.

Later that night, Monica and I met up with Cody, Joel {another DePaul student, from Texas}, Genna and Michelle {best friends from Oak Park, Ill.} at a bar called La Guillotine in the Latin Quarter. We wanted to go to the jazz bar downstairs {Caveau des Oubliettes; an "oubliette" was a place where they would literally hole people up in stone rooms with no doors, Cask of Amontillado-style. Creepily, it is derived from the word "oublier" - to forget}, but we were supposed to finish our drinks first, and the metros don't run late on Thursdays, so we didn't have enough time. We had fun, nonetheless, and the bar has an actual guillotine in it, which is cool.

Friday, all of the IES students had lunch at the Eiffel Tower, in the restaurant Altitude 95. Although it was not the ultra-expensive Jules Verne restaurant on the middle level {there are three, not counting the ground}, the view was excellent and the food was delicious.

They served us Coca-Cola. We're never going to blend in.

Even Evian tastes better when you drink it on the Eiffel Tower. Also, check out the sweet industrial decor.

Amis. From left: Cody, moi, Monica, et Joel. I particularly enjoy the look on his face.

Afterward, Monica, Joel and I decided that, since we were already 1/3 of the way up, why not make the rest of the trip? We met Lauren {from Indiana U}, her boyfriend Rob, and another one of their friends, who were also planning to go to the top. The boys {Joel, Rob, and Rob's friend} wanted to climb, while the other two girls and I, violently afraid of heights, preferred to take the elevator. They started up as we searched for the ticket booth, and by the time we got up {after meeting a charming couple from Kansas City who took a week off of work to come to Europe and gave us advice about our trip to Italy}, the boys were already in line to go up to the very top of the tower. They urged us to go buy tickets, but the woman in the booth said they were not selling any for another 45 minutes due to elevator malfunctioning {you can imagine what that did for our nerves}. So we spent our extra time taking pictures, making graffiti, and eating Ben & Jerry's.


Don't look up.




Apparently, pigeons on tables also happen.

Finally, we paid our 4,50 € and got into the crowded glass elevator. What an ascent - we spent the whole time trying to keep each other calm and wondering why the elevator hadn't gotten to the top yet {because going from 115 m off the ground to 276 m off the ground is a long way, that's why}. Still, despite some serious vertigo, we made it, and we had some incredible view points.


Here's looking at you.

To simplify the concept of the height change...


A map of the EU {again, to commemorate France's presidency}, as seen from the Premier Étage {first level}. I like the big gray spot that is Switzerland. Always neutral.


Deuxième Étage {second level}


Troisième Étage {third level}


For my PHS Choruslings: Remember when we were in Paris for three hours, and for some of that time vaguely near the Eiffel Tower? It was there.


And finally, the champagne bar at the very top. I think it was something like 5 € for a tiny paper cone, which I suppose appeals to some people.

Satisfied, proud of ourselves, and ready to be back on the ground, the girls and I descended happily and went our separate ways. I didn't get home till about 7, and I turned back around and went to get dinner with Cody shortly thereafter. We had some great Italian food and 2, 50 € glasses of wine {trust me, that is cheap}. Then we met up with Monica once again and hung out with her friend Julia who is also studying here, and some other people in Julia's program; we ended up going to a houka bar, and then Cody, Monica and I had to split in order to catch the metro home, exhausted and glad to be going to bed.