Vive La Resistance

Well after 3 days, 25,000 calories, and 45 million "We Surrender!" jokes (made mostly by me), we're back from Paris. As always, P-town continues to rock the house and rock it hard. This was my third trip to Paris, and someday when I sit down and write my Power Rankings for European cities there is no doubt Paris will be near the top, if not THE top, of the list. The food is awesome, the energy palpable on an NYC/Tokyo level, and the fact that there are hordes of cowardly French Fun Boys around for the mocking is only another plus. I always have a couple of moments in Paris where I pause and think - yeah, this city's got it. Because it does.

The main purpose for this particular trip was to reunite Gwen with her friend Rachel and Rachel's new baby Naomi, an adorable little 5-month old who cooed and social smiled our hardened hearts to puddles by the end of the trip. Rachel was out in another part of France for the bulk of the week at a computer conference and then returned to Paris for the weekend to meet up with "Wendy" and hang out for a spell.

We stayed, this time in the Latin Quarter, a bustling area of town just south of the island hosting Notre Dame on the Seine. We took a train on Friday morning arriving at about lunch time. Rachel and Naomi, as well as Rachel's mother-in-law Shelly (along for babysitting duties) came slightly later, and then we did our thing from there.

We'd spend the days and early part of the evenings with Rachel and crew, and then when baby and her pit crew had to go and bed down for the night Gwen and I would venture out on our own for the later part of the evenings. After dinner the first evening we strolled down the Champs-Elysees and took in the usual sights, the Eiffel Tower in the distance, the great buildings all around, and just enjoyed the scene.

Of all crazy things we actually went to movies on successive nights (yes, we go to Paris to go to movies - look we're starved for cinema. Starved! Especially considering Gwen wouldn't go see Rambo IV with me. I'm still upset - I don't want to talk about it.) . The first night we caught a '3:10 to Yuma' showing (good not great) and on Saturday we caught 'Vantage Point', which, from my vantage point, wasn't very good. (Oh the suspense, each scene revealing a little more information until it all spirals out of control - blah, blah blah. There's really no need for anyone to go see this thing unless you have a penchant for seeing Dennis Quaid constantly make a face somewhere between PTSD and constipated and/or want to know how to stage an assassination and a multi-tiered bombing using your iPhone.)

On Saturday we took a day trip out to Versailles, where we bore witness to French royalty's slightly elevated opinion of itself. The palace is ostentatiously huge and has sprawling gardens to boot. Regardless, Gwen and I might summer there - we're still undecided.

On Sunday we ventured out to the Hotel Des Invalides, a large museum complex bearing the tomb of Napoleon and also several other museums. We opted for the World War I and II museum which was well done. I actually learned something about WWI (which, honestly, I don't really know much about) , an unexpected surprise. Furthermore, I was amused at the French concept of a World War II museum - let's just say that the significance of the French Resistance was perhaps a tad overstated at this museum when compared to WWII displays elsewhere. To hear the French tell it, it was almost as if their Resistance (pronounce it with the snobby accent) was the essential cog in the wheel that brought down Hitler - and that whole British/US D-Day thing was more of a sideshow, a mild distraction so that some hairy Frenchman could plant the occasional bomb on a railroad track carrying German ordinance - that being the real reason the war was won of course. Furthermore, Charles de Gaulle was the hero of the war or so we were told. (I can only have imagined Pete's reaction - he who went ballistic in Berlin after hearing France even got a say at the Potsdam conference after World War II. He probably would have run around, furiously kicking down displays, just going nuts. It wouldn't have been pretty....)

On Sunday evening we parted ways with Rachel and headed back home on the train. It's still hard to believe that a city as cool as Paris is only a few short hours away.

And now, being a gracious king not unlike Louis the XVIXIVIVIXI, I shower you with photos...

Paris March 2008