I had to ask the Frenchman downstairs who works here, to borrow this pen. And a nice French pen it is! Right now I am in Paris, occasionally glancing out the balcony to watch the people pass by. I realize it is their language, but it still makes me smile how often they say "voila!" They have excellent radio stations here...

At first I had mixed feelings about Paris. When we first got here, I remembered all the warnings I got about the "rude" French people. When we walked around, the people in the street had on such serious faces. We had been warned of gypsy pickpockets and I was paranoid. To reinforce my discontent here, on the first morning we arrived, Jen and I stood silently watching people from the balcony when suddenly a little white dog, just a tiny fluffy thing, ran up to an older Frenchman and began barking. The Frenchman immediately started yelling and swearing in French and threw out his leg several times with force, KICKING THE DOG! The dog owner was upset and scolded the old man loudly. Then they continued on as if it was normal to act this way.

Orane said that the Frenchman was in the right because dog owners here do not dicsipline their dogs, and kicking a dog is what you do if you want it to leave. They really sort of act as children here, not having the manners you might expect. But it is every man for himself here, which is possibly how it should be.

Later on we went walking, took the famous Metro (which has automatic doors that give a second's warning before slamming abruptly.) I concluded they aren't careful about people's safety because lawsuits aren't common here as they are in America. I noticed the French men really ARE lovesick and can actually be quite friendly and ask you where you are from, because they seem interested in someone from a place other than France, which surprized me.

We saw the Opera where Phantom of the Opera took place and it was so breathtaking! If only Cassandra could have seen it too!

There are echoes of bells that play every half hour. And at noon plays a great elaborate version of the tune in chords! They are nice and loud from here. And I love these brick and square cobble streets! And the adorably tiny French cars.

Yesterday we went to the other side of Paris by Metro to see Jim Morrison's grave and it was amazing to see such OLD graves surrounding it with French names, and green moss and skulls on statues on many tombs. All over, leading up to his grave is graffitti saying things about Jim Morrison. At his grave are a few guards that rotate and supervise 24 hours a day to prevent vandalism on his grave alone! There were black burned out candles and flowers on the headstone. I feel very lucky to have seen it.

We also went to Montmartre where everyone goes to see the view of all of Paris. Locals hang out and play music and everyone seems to be in couples. French police walk around that have the standard authoritive French dress. Many artists hang out on this hill, and I noticed the French come alive at night, but in the morning they return to being serious and perhaps a bit cranky. The farther the sun sets, the French men begin to get pesty, kissing girl' hands and commenting loudly with smiles and beckoning women they don't even know. Around midnight they calm down, but are still prowling around.

departure - arrival