Is Not Chicago

After arriving several hours later than planned into Paris, it was too late for any museums or things like that so I figured I’d just walk around for a bit. Lara’s place is about a 10 minute walk from Invalides, the home of Napoleon’s tomb, which is about 10 minutes from the Eiffel Tower, so I figures that would be a good direction to start.

It was Thursday night, and the people were out in full force. The park leading to the Eiffel Tower was packed with picnickers. The signs said no alcohol, but that rule was most definitely not enforced.

Then I walked up to the Arc de Triomphe and down the Champs Élysées. From there along the Seine over to the Louvre and then across the Pont des Arts. The Pont des Arts is a pedestrian bridge, that was packed with people eating and drinking wine. At this point I was craving a picnic, partly because it looked really fun, and partly because it was now 11pm and I hadn’t eaten dinner.

While my initial goal was to go to a jazz club in the Saint Michel area, I ended up with a couple beers, sitting for a while in front of Notre Dame and then watching a couple street musicians on the quai by the seine before finally walking home around 2am. I’ve never seen so many people out that late on a Thursday. I love Paris.

To close, here are a couple tweets I wrote over the course of the night:

11pm: Not sure how much is jet lag and how much is the fact it doesn’t get dark until 10:30pm but I’m wide awake

11:30pm: I think Budapest wins at density of people making out, but Paris destroys everywhere else at people drinking directly from the wine bottle.
(see post from last year about Budapest)

11:45pm: I hope my stuffing my face with gyros doesn’t ruin your stuffing your faces with each others’ faces. #frontofnotredame

11:50pm: I’m not really concerned with the legality, but is drinking beer in front of Notre Dame a sin? #paris

12:15am: That thing about more people making out in Budapest than Paris, I wrote that around 11pm. After midnight Paris came from behind for the win

12:45am: Didn’t realize how unfunky the French were until tonight #clappingononeandthree #youtrdoingitwrong #streetperformeraudience

I’m pretty sure in all of my travels I’ve never missed a flight. A missed connection, sure, but never because I got to the airport late. That all changed today.

After some dinner at the pub we decided the easy thing to to do would be to buy some wine at the Tesco and go back to Yari’s place. What we arrived to, however was quite unexpected. They have an awesome patio area for all the flats in the complex. At midnight we were expecting to have it to ourselves. But instead there’s a gaggle of college girls from Florida State and a shirtless resident (it was a dude, don’t get too excited) telling them to be quiet. After a minor confrontation, involving him calling one of us a c**t and then a maybe 19 year old kid, who obviously wanted to get into a fight, jumping in with “don’t call him a c***, call me a c***”. (normally I wounding shy away from profanity when it suits the story, but even I think that word is offensive).

After quieting down for a while, a huge group of kids showed up. They’re actually pretty quiet considering there are 15 of them. As they drink more, naturally, their volume goes up with their BAC. Then another angry resident showed up on the phone with the cops. That gets them to leave really quickly.

The bobbies show up and find four 27-30 year olds quietly enjoying some wine. We joke with the cops briefly before they leave, which as it is 2am becomes our cue to head home to bed. I love when the cops show up and then side with you.

Then the next morning, with a surprisingly mild hangover, I left Mickey’s place. About three stops into the Piccadilly Line, find out it’s broken. No trains going to Heathrow. Finally, after several transfers I made it to Heathrow, but 10 minutes before my plane was to take off. Fortunately, they didn’t charge me to get on the next flight, but it still came at the cost of several lost hours in Paris. More on Paris soon.

Creepiest street performer I’ve ever seen.

After a wonderful weekend in the Florida Keys, I have just arrived in London. I have a couple pictures I’ve taken on my phone, and I’m uploading them here and to my flickr (see the photo bar across the the top of the blog). Once I get to an actual computer, I’ll load some vastly superior pics off my camera.

The Keys are pretty amazing. It blows my mind how thin many of them are. After watching the sun set on the west coast, just walk across the street and watch the moon rise in the east. While it was no Kho Panang, we did get to go to a full moon party (many more children, and far fewer buckets than a Thai full moon party) but there was a pretty cool band, fire spinners, and fireworks.

Other than that a lot of sleeping in and swimming in the ocean. My back is pretty sunburnt, and I’m thankful I have a few days to recover before I have to carry a backpack around.

To London, I was fortunate to get to fly first class. Because I was waiting on my friend Sarah’s work schedule, I wasn’t sure what we would be doing so so I didn’t know what airport I would be flying out of. But a few days ago, a bunch of first class seats opened up at a lower milage rate (using frequent flyer miles to get to and from Europe was the only way I could afford the airfare for this trip). It’s the best way to fly overseas. Got a couple glasses of wine (I’m still pissed American charges for booze in coach on international flights) then a fulling reclining seat made for a great overnight sleep here.

Time to head out to grab some lunch and meet up with my buddy Mickey and my friend Yari once they’re done with work.

Tomorrow: onward to Paris!

I think the oil got to this sad specimen

Smallest bar in the world (or at least in Key West)

First class!

Five years ago on a sailboat in the Greek Isles I met a man named Ewen. Ewen has the greatest job I can imagine; he’s a travel photographer. That’s why he was on the boat, getting a free ride while he shot photos for the tour company.

A year later I attended his wedding in Phuket, Thailand. And a year after that I visited him and his wife in Melbourne, where they live. That’s three out of my four big trips that I’ve seen Ewen. (By big trip I mean two plus weeks.)

Late last night, after an awesome Thievery Corporation show, as I was making my final preparations I discovered it’s about to become four out of five. He and his wife Victoria are going to be in Paris the same time I will be.

Small damn world.

“And there, ahead, all he could see, as wide as all the world, great, high, and unbelievably white in the sun, was the square top of Kilimanjaro. And then he knew that there was where he was going.” - Ernest Hemmingway

I’ve been doing quite a bit of traveling lately, mainly for fun, but preparation and training has been my rationalization. In a little over two weeks time, the next adventure shall come to pass. A journey to Africa and an epic ascent through jungle and snow to over 19,000 feet above sea level. Mount Kilimanjaro, the tallest peak in Africa, will be my next destination.

I will be departing Chicago on June 26 for a couple short layovers in Florida, London, and Paris to visit friends (plus I somehow have never made it to Paris before), and then arriving in Tanzania on the 4th of July. (I do confess, I feel slightly unpatriotic being out of the country for Independence Day, but c’est la vie.) I will be meeting my friend Julienne in Moshi, Tanzania. She left just last week to begin volunteer work there. Her blog Julienne Wanders she started for this trip is so far wonderful. I’ll have a full day in Moshi to acclimate and prepare, then begin our 7 day trek up the Machame Route, aka the “Whiskey Route.” After one day to recover, it’ll be time to board the plane for the long journey back to Chicago.

If Douglas Adams can make it to the top in a rhino suit, I figure I should be fine. And don’t worry, this is not my trek company: