Destination Paris

Destination, Paris

We disembarked the Crown Princess for the last time in Le Havre, just a few kilometers from the WWII invasion landings at Normandy. However, our destination was the train station. The French SNCF train is a direct route from Le Havre to Paris (about 125 miles) in two hours, ten minutes, precisely. It’s a beautiful trip through the French countryside dotted with farms and vineyards plus a few cities such as Rouen (Monet did much of his painting there).

Which brings us to our arrival at 1 Boulevard Bessiéres… Parisians are not noted for their stellar hygiene but the apartment could only be described as filthy… and I was sneezing my head off. We were too tired to find other accommodations and frankly there were no other apartments available. I swear the dirt and grime could be carbon dated to at least when Monet began painting.

The rental agent sent over a cleaning person the next day and he made it livable, enough at least so I could sleep the next night. Eileen became a total trooper, sacrificing her highly pampered shipboard nail polishing experience, we spent eight hours each of the next three days cleaning… and that’s in a 450 square foot apartment!

The area is on the border between the 17^th and 18^th Arrondissements with a half dozen each of cafés, bakeries and bars within 100 meters.  This continues on for miles, interrupted occasionally by hair salons, butchers, fish mongers, hotels, mobile phone stores, etc. The residents are from nearly every economic class, age and nationality. Food shopping is from multiple fruit and vegetable stands and the supermarket is less than half a kilometer away. Great cheeses and wines are incredibly cheap, but many other items are not.

With the smell of fresh croissants and baguettes wafting up from the bakery immediately downstairs starting at about five in the morning one is simply compelled to trundle down three flights of stairs to greet the baker.

Parisians have to get to know you. It is essential to say good morning when entering their shops, Bonjour!

On the first day, my croissants were 

selected from the display case, second day the same, third day from the front of the rack coming from the oven, fourth day, hot croissants from the back of the oven rack – warmest and freshest of all! First day espresso cost, 1.5 Euros, third day 1 Euro. 

Parisians take their door locks seriously and there are locksmiths all over town. Despite the fact that there’s a touch pad code required to get into the building foyer and an electronic fob required to enter the stairway, the deadbolt on our apartment door has four steel bolts plus the latch, plus a rod that secures into both the floor and the top of the door frame. Even the deadbolt key is trident shaped and looks exceeding difficult to duplicate. It also makes the lock nearly impossible to pick.

Drivers in France are expected to find any space available to wedge their cars into traffic. It’s not impolite to stack multiple cars side by side, each attempting the same left hand turn. This traffic universally includes cars, buses, bicycles, motor scooters, motorcycles, trucks and vans. Motorcycles, bicycles and motor scooters are expected to navigate between rows of cars and the cars are expected to watch out for them. However, a pedestrian in a crosswalk can part the waters with a single step. No one will dare challenge a pedestrian.

Despite all the jockeying for position, illegal turns, temporarily parking on street corners or even double parking, there is only one unpardonable sin that will start the horns blaring; NOT doing all of the above. Parisians simply can’t stand someone holding up traffic.