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There we were, right at the brink of our journey, playing Uno on the airport floor.
Coming down the escalator in Iceland.
This was the parking lot of the airport, which was pretty small. The airport was small, but even given its size, I wouldn't have expected something smaller than a Wal-Mart parking lot.
Mr. Holmes had arranged for us to have breakfast on the morning that we arrived in Iceland rather than the morning after, as the hotel normally provided. This was my first meal in a foreign country: Sausage, cucumber, tomato, melon, potatoes with thyme, a soft-boiled egg, pate on a cracker, eggs (cooked in a pan, like a custard), spiced herring (the red fish), and pickled herring (the grey fish). This was the first and perhaps only time that I really felt bad about being away from home. I love to try new and bizarre things, but after I tried the herring, I wanted something from McDonald's really badly. Everything else was quite good, though.
This is a cathedral that we came across. We didn't really have anything to look for in Iceland, so we moved toward the most interesting point we could see on the cozy Icelandic capital's skyline.
The next morning, I was ready to hit Paris. I noticed that I had some trouble with the pressure in my ears, and something carbonated might help, I thought, hence the Icelandic seltzer. It didn't help.
An aerial shot of France as we were descending.
At Charles de Gaulle Airport, we boarded a space-age European bus that had been hired to take us into the city and deliver us at our hotel.
There was a video game shop on our hotel's street, one a few blocks away, and a manga shop a few blocks in the other direction. I can't decide if this is just because we were in a huge city, or if the French really are infatuated with anime and manga.
Some shots of Notre Dame cathedral. This is where it really hit home that Paris, in spite of all the attractions, is a functional city. I think the initial idea in the back of all our minds was that it was some sort of theme park there to serve us.
The entire group, minus Mr. Holmes, who was taking the picture.
We stopped at a restaurant that served crepes. The one on the left is smoked salmon and creme fresh. The right is greens with walnuts and Roquefort cheese. I didn't like either. As much as I was happy and excited to be there, I think I really was experiencing a bit of shell-shock. I wish I could go back and try at least these crepe dishes with an open mind, because I really wanted to like them.
This was breakfast every morning: Croissant, small loaf of bread, unsweetened yogurt, applesauce, honey, cheese, Nutella (if you like Nutella), orange juice, and hot chocolate. I could eat like that every day (minus the Nutella).
A building across the street from our hotel. I thought it was necessary to take pictures of the buildings in general just to have an image of what the city's common sites were like.
Me heart French cheese.
The oldest clock in Paris.
The entrance to the Cluny Museum, the national museum of medieval art.
Some shots of the exterior. There were interesting things inside, but I just didn't connect with them much. It was very interesting, but it just didn't fit the whole Paris experience. If you want to see some pictures, email me.
So beautiful...
The
Catholic Church
For the low low price of two euros, you can have a novelty Notre Dame coin. "Money changing! Get your money changed, right here in the temple!"
The window on the right is the signature rose window of the cathedral.
The Eiffel Tower from the Arc 'd Triumph. It's out of focus, but you can see the search light better because of it.
When you walk into the Louvre's main entrance, you first have to go through the outer wall. This is a shot looking into the courtyard at the glass pyramid that serves as the entrance to the palace turned museum.
Heh, Egyptian kitties.
Dead Egyptian kitties.
Hammurabi's law code, the first written law. Can you dig it?
This was lunch in the Louvre. It cost almost twenty euros, but it was actually really good.
I was really intrigued to see an actual mummy.
These winged bulls stood guard at a temple in ancient Sumer.
The Louvre is linked underground to what seems to be a mall. This is in the food court. Reminds me of Metal Gear Solid 2's "The Orange" boxes.
Outside of the Louvre, a good distance away, is an obelisk. It looked pretty enchanting in the afternoon sun.
The Eiffel Tower from a park near the Louvre.
The exterior of Saint Chapelle.
The interior of Saint Chapelle feels exactly like what it is—an old, deserted cathedral. It's very small compared to Notre Dame. If I remember correctly from the talk I had with Mr. Holmes, the cathedral was ransacked in the French Revolution, and the supposed crown of thorns was stolen. The paint that coats the cathedral now is actually only a little over one hundred years old. It was restored in the late 1800's to what it looked like when it was a functioning cathedral. And there, Mr. Holmes said, you have a big debate among historians. Do you leave an amazing work of humanity in shambles because that's what humanity did to it, or do you restore it to get the full effect that time may eventually devour and leave to sketchy memories?
Hannah took a picture of the sign for the Picasso Museum, and I had someone take this picture of us on the inside. These are the only two pictures I have of the Picasso Museum. I don't like Picasso. So sue me.
This painting is called "My Best Friend".
I don't know what it is, but I want more of it.
One of DuChamp's works of Dada art.
What a rapscallion.
I was happy to see this, like the other works of art, that I was already familiar with from Mr. Manley's Introduction to the Humanities.
Brancusi's "The Sleeping Muse".
This is a Picasso that I do like. So sue me.
Sacre Cour. You can't take any pictures inside, or talk for that matter. If you speak, even in a whisper, one of the many men who walk around with their fingers over their mouths will come up to you and give a reaffirming tap on their lips. As you walk in the door, they say, "No peektures".
I chose not to put too many Rodin works on here, not because it would then be rated R, which it would, but because while I was so excited about all the sculptures I saw while I was there, very few of them have actually stuck in my memory.
Yay, romance.
This one I do remember: The Kiss.
The D'Orsay Museum was originally a train station. It definitely shows.
Manet's "Luncheon on the Grass". I didn't like it all that much until I had to fight to find it. We ended up stumbling across it by accident.
"The Birth of Venus".
Some shots of the Eiffel Tower as we walked toward it.
The Paris 2012 logo could be seen in quite a few places around the city to promote their consideration for the 2012 Summer Olympics (which they have since lost to London).
The humongous glass elevator runs up one of the legs of the tower. This is a shot from inside looking up.
We were only able to go to the middle level of the tower, the second observation deck that you see from the bottom. The top was closed for some reason. I'm sure the very top had a view that would make this one look pathetic, but I am really happy with what I got. The fact that I could still see cars and make out buildings I knew was cool. Whatever the case, this is the view from the top for me, and I liked it.
Many was the night that we sleepily boarded the Metro, often worried that we wouldn't make it before closing time and would have to walk.
This is the royal chapel in Versailles. Weird to think they had a church in their house...
A fancy bed. 'Nuff said.
Okay, this picture sums up everything I dislike about Versailles. Look through the doorway. It just doesn't end. And it's all made of this spectacular molding with vibrant colors and beautiful floors, and I'm walking through thinking, "I wonder what Greek god is going to be masterfully portrayed on the next ceiling." There is just so much. Maybe I missed the point. It probably didn't help that I was sick that day, but for me, Versailles is just too much sensory input.
The Hall of Mirrors was under renovation. This was all that was really viewable, and I'm not sure that this is even part of it. At this point, I began laughing hysterically because Jon Jackson had said one thing to me before I left, and that was to get a picture of the Hall of Mirrors, because that's the only thing cool about the French, or something equally ridiculous. Of course I would have obliged, but the way that it worked out was just priceless.
Hannah had a small balcony outside her room that offered a great view.
Visible from her balcony was the steeple of Notre Dame, the pointy thing off in the distance. Somehow I remember it looking a lot closer when we were actually there.
For those who don't know, I have worked off and on for Gap in Ocala. While in the Louvre, I saw a man with a small Gap bag. Realizing that it may be my only chance to see a Gap in Paris after traveling halfway around the world, I stepped outside the bubble and asked him where Gap was. It turns out he was from England (or at least was British), and showed me on my map of the city where the general area was. On our free day, we took the Metro down to the area he had indicated, but couldn't find it. I stopped a random stranger, asked if he spoke English, and then asked for directions. I think we were on the same block of the same street, and he pointed to it and said something like, "Right there."
The old opera house, you know, where the Phantom lives.
The last dinner was had in an underground dining room at a restaurant in our hotel's area. We had a toast, ordered some good food, and then Hannah, me, Amanda, Jeff, Ruthanne, and Danny hotfooted it to the Metro. I was not about to come this far and not make my pilgrimage to the Moulin Rouge.
My dad said this picture was so good that I should try to sell it to an online photography site. Also, my mom says I'm cool.
Moulin Rouge is my favorite movie. And Hannah is my favorite girlfriend.
All dressed up for Florida weather. I wanted to like Perrier. I really did. It wasn't bad, but I don't think I'll be buying it again anytime soon. Now if I could get my hands on some Orangina, that would be a different story.
This is a shot of Iceland as we left it for the last time.
This is either Greenland or northern Canada. I saw this one snow covered island on the way back that was so ridiculously enchanting that it hurts every time I think about it. And this was pretty much all there was special about the plane ride back. We ran into darkness a little while before landing, and America met us on the ground in a surprisingly familiar way.
This is nowhere near the extent of the pictures I have from this trip. If you have a special request, there's a good chance I can fulfill it from one of the over five hundred pictures I have collected from the trip.
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