Paris and the case of the sleeping polar bear

Lucky for us, our misfortunate victimization in Paris (read our previous blog if you’re confused) couldn’t have been more spectacularly timed. In fact, Kate and I had a whole weekend to enjoy before we noticed our car had been broken into. So, for us it was quite the bon voyage!

We stayed in a hostel in the multicultural northern end of the city that offered surprisingly nice views of the city. Here's one, in fact, of Montmartre, which I'll mention later.

The purpose of the trip was to run in the Paris half marathon, a 13.1-mile jaunt through the complex web of grande Parisian thoroughfares, including a short stretch along the historic Seine. To use an over-used, under-appreciated phrase, it was in-Seine!

Je ne sais quoi I’m talking about. Anyway, the trip was good and the run was a success.

We started with a tour of Château de Versailles (NOT pronounced ver-SALES, I later found out), which was the de facto capitol of the Kingdom of France for a good many years. Residents included a bunch of French Louises (that’s the plural of Louis) and even an Italian named Napoleon. The most prominent frog who lived there, however, was Louis XIV, who was known as the Sun King. #14, as he liked to be called, apparently held lots of wild soirees and had a grandson (also named Louis) who married a crazy Austrian named Maria Antonia Josepha Johanna von Habsburg-Lothringen. Seriously. To us, she’s known as Marie Antoinette or the “let them eat cake” lady.

Anyway, the Sun King had a very nice place and I would definitely recommend a tour to anyone heading to Paris. Just don't get the "Louis, louis" song stuck in your head, because the irony far outweighs the annoyance.

We then walked the Sun King’s grounds and got a better understanding of why he was called the Sun King as we were temporarily blinded by the radiance of it all.

The next morning we ran our little feet off, recouped in a quiet, dark room, and then made our back out into the world full of joie de vivre. Our first stop was Sacré Cœur, the basilica on the summit of the hill of Montmartre, the highest point in the city. It was a beautiful, sunny day and there were lots of frogs walking around, holding hands, and enjoying the live music, which, curiously enough, all seemed to be written by Bob and/or Ziggy Marley. Slow, peaceful, and all about Zion, the music added a calming and romantic ambience to the afternoon that Kate and I very much enjoyed.

Perhaps it was all the THC in the air, but afterward Kate and I had the munchies and headed out to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant recommended to us by Kate’s brother, Edward. It was a fixed-menu fondue place where you drink wine from baby bottles. Yes, it’s here that you can get your booze fix, your cheese fix, and of course your oral fixation fix, all under one roof.

The place had a beaucoup of tourists there – mostly American college girls apparently doing semesters abroad – which seemed annoying at first as we were trying to soak up all the frenchiness (and cheese) that we could. It made me realize it’s really nice to live in Europe where we can go out and not be tempted to (or able to) eavesdrop on conversations, thereby allowing us to focus on each other’s thoughts. Or, as the case stood, to focus on drinking out of baby bottles.

The next morning we got up. This may not seem like much, but it was quite an affair considering we were probably both very close to cardiac arrest after ingesting the colossal portions of fromage the night before. So, to celebrate, we headed to the Louvre.

As you’d expect, the Louvre was great. Although the swarms of tourist made it almost impossible to avoid the American patois, we could easily escape into our thoughts as we contemplated the works of art such as the Venus de Milo, the Mona Lisa, and the Sleeping Polar Bear. (Kate especially enjoyed this last one).

Afterwards, we bid adieu to France and headed home in our windy little car.