Paris

Things of note that happened before Paris: Went to Café Retro with Tory – super cute café with pretty good hot chocolate.

Found the British store, which has things that can’t be found in Denmark, such as condensed cream of chicken soup, Tetley tea, and Bisquick!

Bo moved out :( His brother and girlfriend moved to a different apartment, vacating their cheaper and yet much nicer apartment, thus, Bo moved into it, leaving us without a flatmate (for now, at least). He also took the toaster, which is a great tragedy in my eyes.

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Originally I was supposed to leave Thursday evening for Paris. I left immediately after class, grabbed my bag from my room, and headed to the airport. When I arrived, I went to the self check-in machines, but it told me that it could not check me in. I waited in the baggage check line, told the guy what had happened, and he said, “You’re going to Paris? Your flight has been canceled.” Then he gave me the phone number to call and was done with me. There was no one behind me in line…really, I had to wait on hold for 20 minutes to talk to someone because he couldn’t help me even in the least? Then, the woman on the phone, after I asked her what to do, said, “Your flight was canceled…didn’t you receive any information?” in a very surprised tone of voice. No, I replied, I had been in class all day then went straight to the airport. However, when I returned home and checked my e-mail? Nothing. Not a word from the company. My flight was changed to the next day, conditionally (it was canceled originally due to a strike of the best-paid air traffic controllers in Europe, and the strike would last until Saturday). Friday morning and afternoon, I refreshed the “check flight status” screen incessantly. At 4:30, when it still said “on time”, I gathered my things, prayed for the best, and once more headed to the airport.

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-7:30 PM, Friday-

One day and several age lines later, I am in the Copenhagen airport and through security. So happy am I that I didn’t have to fork over the extra money I was willing to pay in order to get to Paris (though the hostel basically said “too bad” when I called yesterday, meaning I’ll still have to pay for last night), pretty much everything is making me happy.

Examples:
Security - so nice, efficient, and no bothersome taking off of shoes. They only checked my ticket – no ID was ever checked (though I believe they do at the gate).
Lego Store – Enough said. Denmark is amazing.

Some other interesting occurrences: the toilets are located downstairs, several flights down, so I had to lug my suitcase (lighter than normal – wow, it’s great not having to haul my entire life around!) down, as I was imagining what secret horror story lurked in the deep dark basement. Of course, nothing did, but it was still amusing.

At the top of the stairs was an American restaurant. Where was it dedicated to? Only the best city in America.


Amazingly, I’ve had no Starbucks withdrawals. The hot chocolate has suited me just fine. Only once when I was tired and did not want another tea did I think, “Man, it would be nice to have an iced white mocha right now.” However, here at the airport are located Denmark’s only Starbuckses. I thought, “Why not?” The prices actually aren’t too outrageous if you think in Denmark terms. If you think in U.S. dollars, I don’t want to tell you how much I spent on my drink and muffin. However, a grande frappuccino only costs 20kr more than a cheap, small hot chocolate at any café.

The description of a java chip frap. Said “cookie crumbs” rather than chocolate chips, so I was curious and went for it. Of course, having every drink taste the same being part of Starbucks’ aim, I am sure they are, in fact, chocolate chips, and it tastes normal. (Looking back, I think they perhaps were cookie crumbs, because when you got to the bottom they started tasting more like oreos/softer, rather than chocolate chips). When I ordered, for the first time I was answered back in Egnlish. We keep being told not to be discouraged at this, but it is a bit disheartening when I really said practically nothing and still get flagged as a foreigner. What I said was “Java Chip Frappuccino og en blueberry muffin” (which ‘blueberry muffin’ was the title of the muffin – perhaps I should have said it in Danish even if the label didn’t say it) and she answered, “Do you want whipped cream on that/” Perhaps it’s because I was at Starbucks in general, or because I ordered a grande, as only an overindulgent American would. Or perhaps it’s because I pronounced “grande” right. Oh well, I have still decided that airport trips will also constitute Starbucks trips for a little taste of my over indulgent home country.


Mmmmm!

-Saturday morning –

On the ride from the airport to my hostel, I met a fellow American studying in Copenhagen. She is from Georgia and getting her masters. That was exciting.

I got to practice my French because the street that I knew was right off the Metro I could not find anywhere, so I asked a police officers. She didn’t know where it was, but she understood me at least!

I did find my hostel. The guy who checked me in was nice. Much nicer than whoever I spoke to on the phone. I was also impressed by his accent – you couldn’t tell he was French until he started speaking French.

The hostel is nice, though there are only two toilets for three or four floors, and one is out of order…otherwise, I like the place. I didn’t sleep well that night with nerves and everything, and the guy in the bunk bed below me also slept talked.

-Saturday evening-

Today was, possibly, the best day of my life so far. It was just so nice. Paris is wonderful, seeing friends is wonderful…

The breakfast was rather “eh” but it was more than made up for when I stepped outside and realized I was in Paris. For the whole morning, through my head kept running “oh my word…” whenever I’d see new amazing things. I just love the buildings. I never realized Paris was so beige, though.



















I wandered around the Latin Quarter and got “lost” when I decided to trust my inner sense of direction. I ended up on a street that curved west, but it turned out perfectly, as I backtracked on a different street and was able to walk along the Seine. I arrived at the Notre Dame with just enough time to look around before meeting Dana, Meghan, their friend Jen, and Sara.











Dana took us to a café right across the street, and I had a Croque Monsieur – SO good!!



Our hunger thus deliciously satiated, we climbed the steps of Notre Dame. It was handy being with the others, since with their ID they get in free and the guy just looked at my ID and decided to let me in for free as well.

Walking up the stairs was ridiculous – quite the number and round and round, making me dizzy, but the view was spectacular, as were the gargoyles.









Highly amused by the expressions on the gargoyles, I decided to imitate them:





Pelican?










We attempted to then go to the Cabtacombs but there was too long a line and it was closing, so instead we headed to the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs-Élysées.



We walked past the Place de la Concorde, and got chocolat chaud at Angelina’s. It was literally just melted chocolate. Amazing.







We drank the chocolatey goodness in the Tuileries garden while watching adorable French children walk by and complaining about the couple making out right across from us in plain view (it tends to happen a lot here – and everywhere/random places).



I saw the outside of the Louvre when we went to find a bathroom and paid one euro to use a ridiculous bathroom. It was heavily perfumed, and the workers cleaned the door handles immediately after someone used them, then picked out a stall for you and ushered you in. A highly amusing experience.







More sightseeing ensued with a walk past the opera (“location” of the Phantom of the Opera) and in the Madeleine church. Night had fallen now, and so we walked to where we could see the Eiffel Tower sparkling on the hour.







After dinner and my first French crepe (nutella and banana), we proceeded to a jazz club, also special because Robespierre had associated there. Dana thought I would appreciate the historical context, which I most certainly did, and I’m extremely glad I decided to pay the cover fee. The jazz was so much fun! I need to learn to dance jazz style, though I thought at some moments with the small dance floor that some of the dancers were about to take others out. I absolutely loved the saxophonist/singer – his voice was great. And what nationality do you think it turned out he was? English. Even when they’re masquerading as French jazz musicians it seems I can find them!









Looking back at these photos, I feel as if I am the luckiest girl in the world. I've had a fairly average life, but a good life. Like everyone, I said when I was younger, and then older, "I want to travel the world." Many people don't, but I have - little by little. I started with Boston, and now? Now I'm in Denmark. And I visited Paris.

I will leave this with that thought. Paris adventures to be continued.