October 24
We slept in and met Javier, Kristy and Katy in the dining room for breakfast. Everyone else had left early in the morning for their flights. We left our bags at the hotel and headed down the street for the Metro. After buying a 3 day pass, we obsessed about which train to catch on which line and in which direction. Fifteen minutes later I wrote detailed directions on a slip of paper. We put our senior citizen brain power together, agreed on a route, and hopped on board.
A few minutes later we hopped off underground at the Louvre and bought the 2 day Paris Museum Pass at the place Rick Steves suggested. His books have saved the day in London and now in Paris.
We paid for the audio tour and hit the hot masterpieces: Venus de Milo, Winged Victory of Samothrace, Mona Lisa, among others.
We split a ham and cheese baguette for lunch then started on the French Masterpieces tour. The audio tour for this was a total frustration, so we resorted to wandering through the galleries at random and putting in the codes. Some of these came up as N/A. Wonderful! Worn down by the walking and frustrated by our audio devices, we retrieved my drivers license (security for the audio nonsense) and tried to retrace our steps through rush hours crowds back to the Metro. Signs as well as helpful fellow tourists or locals were impossible to find. At last some Irish couple heard my loud, crude, frustrated English, and pointed the way to the Metro station.
We got back to the hotel around 3:00 and called a taxi. Twenty minutes and 16 euros later we covered the two miles to the Best Western D’Orleans. Expedia gave the hotel stellar recommendations for a 2-3 star hotel price. After cooling off in our room from overdressing for the Louvre and enduring the steaming Metro (it was raining outside and as muggy as a rain forest inside) we put our next plan into action, a trip to Notre Dame Cathedral.
Soon we discovered the best news of the day. Vespers and Saturday Vigil Mass would be offered back to back. Before the services, we had our first crepe (Be very careful how you pronounce this; most Parisians will correct you no matter how you say it) with lemon and sugar.
We also had time to join the thousands in line to tour the Cathedral. As Vespers began, the organ rumbled the massive interior. Two young ladies led the Vespers and Mass chants with incredible talent and tone, almost as impressive as a couple of Chico State grads that we all know (Colette and Barbara). The organ treated the assembly to preludes, interludes, meditations, and a grand finale. We enjoyed the services from prime seats three rows back, middle, center.
As Paris started turning on its evening lights, we found our way back to the Metro in the dusk. Our fine four-star dining of the past two weeks came to an end at a nearby MacDonalds. The hamburgers were magnificent except that Barbara didn’t care for the Dijon mustard and passed on the Pommes-Frites-Sauce, sort of a ranch dressing, tartar sauce mix that Parisians love with their French fries. I enjoyed all of it down to the last French fry. Bon Appetit and Bonne Nuit.
P.S. #1: We bought a bottle of Gordon’s Gin and some orange juice (the only cold mixer at the local supermarket) for a night cap and pain killer. Soon Barbara was “sawing them off” again. The pain killers are tucked away in the refrigerator.
P.S. #2: Our windows have shutters. Now we know where to find them for some privacy. I can still imagine hearing the Notre Dame organ resounding in the vast crypt.
