{"id":1220,"date":"2011-04-29T15:13:22","date_gmt":"2011-04-29T22:13:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/rayivey.com\/wordpress\/?p=1220"},"modified":"2011-04-29T15:13:22","modified_gmt":"2011-04-29T22:13:22","slug":"spring-forward-day-41","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.rayivey.com\/wordpress\/spring-forward-day-41\/","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"\"Facebook\"<\/a>\"twitter\"<\/a>\"rss\"<\/a>\"instagram\"<\/a>

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\"The<\/a>
The Boulevard St.-Michel greeted me like an old friend: "Christ, Ray, you got old and fat. Mon Dieu!" "Oh, fuck off, Boulevard St.-Michel."<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/h2>\n

Paris, Texas
\nApril 22, 2011<\/h2>\n

Distance Traveled Today:\u00a0 162<\/p>\n

Distance So Far:\u00a0 7538<\/p>\n

Well, that<\/em> was stupid.\u00a0 All week I\u2019d been thinking the departure time of my bullet train to Paris on Friday night was at 8:35.\u00a0 At 6:20 on Friday evening I was in the office and happened to glance at my ticket. I saw to my horror that 8:35 was the arrival time<\/em>, not the departure time.\u00a0 The departure time was at 7:15.\u00a0 Oh, dear.\u00a0<\/p>\n

At about 6:20 on Friday I was puttering around at work and I absently pulled out my train ticket and glanced at it. I realized to my horror that for the entire week I had been reading the arrival time in Paris on the ticket.\u00a0 The departure time was 7:15.\u00a0 I nearly had a heart attack.\u00a0 I stumbled out of the office, jogged all the way back to the hotel, begged the front desk to get me a cab, ran upstairs and frantically packed.\u00a0\u00a0 The cab took forever to arrive \u2013 the fact that it was raining didn\u2019t help, I guess.\u00a0 He got me to the train with only five minutes to spare.\u00a0 Grr.<\/p>\n

\u00a0Here\u2019s the thing:\u00a0 The ticket was expensive and completely non-exchangeable.\u00a0 In other words, if I had been five minutes later, I would have had to purchase and entire new ticket.<\/p>\n

\"This<\/a>
This ancient toilet dates back to the time of Charlemagne, the first Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. That's also the last time it was cleaned.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Ironically, after rushing to meet the train, we had a delay of an hour getting to Paris.<\/p>\n

Except that it didn\u2019t.\u00a0 About halfway through the trip, we got held up by a train in front of us that was having problems.\u00a0 So we ended up being an hour late.\u00a0 That may not sound like much, but consider this:\u00a0 The journey was supposed to take only eighty minutes.\u00a0 In other words, the premium we had paid to be on a fast train was utterly wasted.\u00a0 I\u2019ll give them credit for this, though:\u00a0 As we got out, there was an official with apology\/partial refund forms at the ready.<\/p>\n

Next:\u00a0 Navigate the Metro to my hotel.\u00a0 Turned out to be not as easy as I expected.<\/p>\n

Time to make a few complaints regarding our European cousins, at least the ones in Belgium and France:<\/p>\n

\"Can<\/a>
Can I haz apartment in this building?<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

First, there is no fountain soda in Europe.\u00a0 At least, it\u2019s rarer than a funny bit from Dane Cook.\u00a0 I\u2019ve been spending ridiculous sums on tiny bottles of \u201cCoca Cola Light.\u201d\u00a0 Finally, in Paris, I figured it out.\u00a0 I should have tumbled to this much earlier.\u00a0 Where else to go to be my desperately needed fountain-style Diet Coke?\u00a0 McDonalds, of course.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Okay, good.\u00a0 I imagine it won\u2019t be that impossible to find McDonalds anywhere in Europe, so when I absolutely positively need a fizzy, chemical-laden diet drink, I\u2019ll know where to go.<\/p>\n

\"If<\/a>
If l had my way I'd wander down the Champs Elysees, going cafe to cabaret<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The next complaint is more substantive.\u00a0 When it comes to public access to services, the otherwise smart Western Europeans could use a little help.\u00a0 Yes, the subway system in Brussels is lovely and efficient.\u00a0 And while the Paris Metro is nothing resembling lovely \u2013 the cars have seen better days \u2013 it\u2019s still extremely efficient and peppy.<\/p>\n

The problem?\u00a0 Buying a goddamned ticket.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"Political<\/a>
Political protest over helpless victims of the innumerable Dune sequels<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

In Brussels, you can only use 1) coins or 2) special European credit cards with some kind of magical EU chips in them.\u00a0 My credit cards, which are otherwise honored most other places in town, simply don\u2019t work.\u00a0 That\u2019s okay, I have cash.\u00a0 Well . . . except that, by cash, I mean paper Euros.\u00a0 Surely the sophisticated ticket machine will take paper Euro notes, right?\u00a0 Wrong.\u00a0 It will only take coins or magic Euro credit cards.\u00a0 No problem, surely there\u2019s a change-making machine nearby, right?\u00a0 No.\u00a0 Absolutely not.\u00a0 So let\u2019s review.\u00a0 You\u2019ve got a machine that\u00a0 basically demands that you be a local to use it.\u00a0 Not very friendly to us Americans who, along with our loudmouth, monolingual ways, are also bringing a lot of American dollars your way.\u00a0 How about cutting us a little break?<\/p>\n

Naturellement, the Metro in Paris has the exact same limitations.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"John<\/a>
John Cleese, a huge gothic architecture fan, sometimes gives impromptu lectures here at Notre Dame. The lectures have become known, of course, as "Monty Python's Flying Buttresses."<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I ran into a similar problem trying to connect to the internet at the Gare du Nord.\u00a0 I had some extra time before my train, and I thought, what the hell, let\u2019s see what\u2019s happening on Facebook.\u00a0 Surely in Europe there\u2019s free wifi connectivity all over the place, right?<\/p>\n

Well, sort of.\u00a0 There are four or five wifi networks available in the station.\u00a0 Several of them are free . . . if you\u2019re French.\u00a0 In other words, they\u2019re free, but you still have to have an account with some mysterious French company.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t even translate the pages to try to figure out what I needed to do, because it was impossible to go online to get Google translate.\u00a0 Even if I had wanted to get online bad enough to pay for a session, even that\u00a0 proved impossible.\u00a0 You couldn\u2019t simply fire up the railway internet service, pull out your credit card, and pay for an hour.\u00a0 No, you had to purchase it through one of four French internet connection services that you already had to be a member of.\u00a0 In other words, there\u2019s lots of wifi available . . . as long as you\u2019re local.<\/p>\n

\"Or<\/a>
Or how about in THIS building? <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I realize the Europeans need to feel superior to us, and in some ways I guess they are, but that\u2019s no reason for these types of public services, particularly in cities that survive largely on tourism, to be so opaque and unfriendly.<\/p>\n

Speaking of European inferiority, can we talk about the smoking?\u00a0 This, I realize, is not news, but every time I come to Europe I have a foolish optimism that that our EU cousins will finally start to catch up with us in the smoking department.\u00a0 Not so much.\u00a0 Everyone smokes here.\u00a0 Everywhere.\u00a0 People smoke right next to you when you\u2019re waiting in line for things.\u00a0 Nice.<\/p>\n

\"Pierre<\/a>
Pierre and I will be married very soon. We hope you can come.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

My favorite image in Paris, in fact, were the several Scout Guides (Europe\u2019s version of the Boy and Girl Scouts) who were smoking in uniform this bright Easter morning.\u00a0 I am so sorry I don\u2019t have photographic proof of this, but I was in the achingly slow line for the Notre Dame tower climb, and the scouts were always moving too fast for me to get a good shot. But I saw it, I promise you, more than once.<\/p>\n

\"THE<\/a>
THE DREADED TOUR MONTPARNASSE, DESTROYER OF VIEWS<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Anyway, I finally managed to stumble outside of the terminal and beg a restaurant to make me some change, made my way to the subway and to the garish but very friendly Marriott Rive Gauche.\u00a0 Emphasis on the gauche, but hey, I had a beautiful room on the very top floor with a spectacular Montparnasse-anchored view of Paris.\u00a0 Best of all, it was all paid for with Marriott points.<\/p>\n

Notable Examples of Me Misreading Important Dates or Times<\/h4>\n

When I bought tickets to a Broadway show for a visiting friend, and when she and her mother showed up for the Saturday evening performance, they were told that their tickets were for the matinee which had happened earlier in the day.<\/p>\n

When I was in charge of purchasing our tickets to see kd lang at the Hollywood Bowl, and on Saturday morning I realized to my horror that the tickets I was holding were for the Friday night performance.<\/p>\n

\"This<\/a>
This performer had a lot of flair.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Getting my audition date for the Yale School of Drama off by exactly one month.<\/p>\n

Average Rating: 4.4<\/span> out of 5<\/span> based on 168<\/span> user reviews.<\/span><\/div><\/p>

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