Walking to my hotel with two large bags was not a good idea as the crowds in Montemarte are just as aggressive in NYC.
Luckily, I'm a New Yorker so I push right back. Get to my hotel, toss my stuff onto the bed and make myself a quick cuppa joe. Man, the French really love their instant coffee.
Today is my only free day here so I grab my camera, Fiona. Again, cause I'm a New Yorker, figure there's no subway system I can't deal with. So I head over to the Metro station and pick up a book of ten billets (tickets) and hop onto the Line 4 towards Porte d'Orléans.
Just like in Manhattan, there're people that stand by the door and no one moves to the middle of the car. People are equally obtuse everywhere.
Get out at the Cité station and stare in awe at the soaring ceilings.
Exit and make my way over to the Notre Dame Cathedral and pop on Rick Steves Historic Paris Walking Tour.
It's pretty good but I end up skipping a buncha things. When people think of France, this is the part that they think of with the Île de la Cité and the River Seine.
Walk away from the crowds at the cathedral to the Deportation Museum where I'm there by my lonely. It deserves it's own entry someday so I'll just leave that be for now.
Make my way to the Latin Quarter, which should really be called the Greek Quarter, and am incited with the allure of gyros.
Her: Wait, you went all the way to Paris and had a gyro?
Her: (shakes head)
Check out where I'm gonna give my speech tomorrow and then head back. On the way to my room, ask the receptionist where I can get postcards to send home. He tells me to walk up to the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur. Shrug my shoulders and I go.
He did not mention how steep that hill was. Bastard. 15 sweaty minutes later, I'm overlooking Paris. Take some pics, buy some cards, and then head back to crash.
Tomorrow I give my presentation.
It's 10PM and still bright outside. I fall asleep with Parisian sirens wailing in the background.
Music: it's 2 o'clock in the morning and I'm sittin' thinkin', wonderin'