A lot of my worries throughout my trip were due to a lack of structure. I think that I'm so used to having a tight schedule that so much freedom is a little scary. Nevertheless, not having a concrete itinerary was definitely a growing experience.
It also led me to a few reckless indulgences, such as the divine hot chocolate that I enjoyed for the incredibly low price of 8.5 euros! It was at a famous place called Angelina's, just across the Seine from the Louvre. You're probably wondering why anyone would pay so much for a hot chocolate. It was easily the best hot chocolate I've ever had -- it tasted like the inside of a chocolate lava cake, but in drink form. It's so popular that I had to wait over thirty minutes just to get into the doors of the establishment. It was totally worth it.
I was planning on going to the Louvre that day; I had visited the famous museum very briefly during a high school trip, but I didn't have a lot of time to appreciate it. I'm also mostly positive that I had a panic attack in the Mona Lisa room during that visit, but I digress. Visiting the Louvre is a compulsory activity when you go to Paris, right?
And that's exactly why I didn't want to do it. Why should I spend my limited time in one of the most beautiful, culturally rich cities in the world doing something that I felt was obligatory? There wasn't even anything specific that I wanted to see. Of course, I didn't realize any of this until I had already waited in the massive entry line for about forty minutes.
I decided to go to the Musée d'Orsay instead, and I'm glad I did. While almost as popular as the Louvre, the d'Orsay is much smaller and much less overwhelming, and I found the exhibits to be more interesting. I spent a lot of time in the Van Gogh rooms and discovered a new passion for the paintings of Edgar Degas.
After spending a few hours at the d'Orsay, I went back to one of my new favorite spots for a late afternoon pick-me-up.
I got dinner and drinks with a new friend that I met at the hostel. He was from San Francisco but went to school at Cornell, and we liked a lot of the same music! At this point in our respective solo trips, we were both in need of a little English conversation. We even went to see the Eiffel Tower at night -- neither of us knew that there is a sparkling light show for the first five minutes after midnight. It's an entirely different monument at night.
The next day, I made sure to stop by the favorite haunts of some great writers. I took a long walk to Hemingway's old apartment in the 5th arrondissement. I ate at the Restaurant Polidor, which Hemingway frequented, and also where the protagonist in Midnight in Paris first meets the writer in the movie. I peeked at La Closerie des Lilas, a beautiful restaurant established in the late 19th century, which was frequented by Baudelaire, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and other great minds (although the restaurant no longer caters to the budget needs of a penniless traveler).
I also made a stop at the Père Lachaise cemetery, which is arguably the most famous cemetery in the world and the largest one in Paris. Mourners and tourists alike flock to the hilly, shaded gathering of burial plots that spans over 110 acres. My time was limited, so I saw the two graves that I most wanted to see: Oscar Wilde, a wild (!) Irish writer who raised a lot of hell in his time, and Frédéric Chopin, composer and pianist. (Op. 72, no. 1 in E minor is one of my favorites.) I planted a kiss on Wilde's grave, which was marked with hundreds of colored lipstick stains. There's a funny story about how I was escorted out of the cemetery by some rather grumpy Parisian security guards, but I won't detail it here.
Throughout my trip, a strange phenomenon kept occurring: I would often think of what I needed or wanted to see (a metro station, Notre Dame, etc.), and it often popped up like a version of the Room of Requirement from Harry Potter. I accidentally stumbled upon a lot of great areas of the city. One of my favorite instances of this was when I thought to myself, I'd like to see the Luxembourg Gardens while I'm here. Sure enough, less than a minute later, I was standing in front of the main gate of the Luxembourg Gardens. I felt like I had entered a faerie dreamland of golden, sunlit copses of trees and carefully planted red and pink flowers. I even stumbled into a lovely outdoor concert from a local symphony orchestra.
While all of my literary sightseeing made me happy, my time in Paris was drawing to a close, so I knew I needed to visit another monster destination. My project took me to the hauntingly beautiful Notre Dame Cathedral, which is (unfortunately but rightfully) a top tourist destination. The Gothic architecture of the cathedral is beyond words; I only wish I could experience it without hoards of summer tourists shoving each other and trying to take pictures of the mass service.
Nevertheless, there was some academic interest that compelled me to visit the cathedral; Hugo's novel Notre-Dame de Paris (what we know as The Hunchback of Notre Dame) is largely credited with prompting the Gothic restoration of the cathedral in the wake of the destruction of the Revolution. Interestingly, the architect favored by Hugo, Eugène Viollet-le-Duc, is the same famed architect who unexpectedly lost a blind contest to Charles Garnier for the design of the Palais Garnier, a.k.a. the home of the Phantom! And we've come a full circle . . .
A recent discovery of some historical documents dating around the time of the cathedral's restoration (1820s) provides us with a compelling potential origin story for one of Hugo's most famous characters: Quasimodo, or the Hunchback of Notre Dame himself. Young sculptor Henry Sibson's journal entries make several references to a reclusive man he called Monsieur le Bossu, or "The Hunchback." To condense this interesting story for blogging purposes . . . it is entirely possible that Hugo visited the cathedral during construction and encountered M. le Bossu, who was a sculptor along with Sibson at the cathedral; they even both lived in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The man's real last name was allegedly M. Trajan. This is especially interesting because, in an early draft of Les Miserables, Hugo named his protagonist Jean Trejean instead of Jean Valjean. Did Hugo take a great deal of inspiration from his visits to Notre Dame? We can't be sure, but the links in this story were too interesting for me not to do a little investigating.
Aside from touring the main cathedral, I also opted to tour the towers. After waiting several hours in the heat wave that (much to my chagrin) finally returned to France, I climbed countless stairs in narrow spiraling staircases to the very top of Notre Dame. Here I viewed the stonework, the famous gargoyles, and even the belfry tower. It was beautiful, humbling, and also interesting to see the handiwork of our possible real-life Quasimodo.
On my last full night in Paris, I met up with a fellow English major friend from W&J, Katie Campbell! After scrambling to find a decent (and decently-priced) restaurant in Saint-Germain-des-Pres, Katie and I found a nice little restaurant where we shared stories of our travels. We both got a glass of wine to celebrate July 4th from across the ocean (although I would have been a little more proud to be an American if the Obamas were still in the White House). It was wonderful to see Katie, and we witnessed the most beautiful sunset over the Seine, gelato in hand. Vive la France.
The next day, I spent a lot of time in Montmartre; I took a walking tour of the town, which blissfully avoided most of the tourist traps in favor of the smaller and more authentic-feeling side streets frequented by locals. The narrow cobblestone streets were lined with bakeries, small markets, and tiny cafés, but this was also the creative hub of some very famous artists. I was able to see the home and studio of Pablo Picasso, the apartment of Vincent Van Gogh, a cabaret frequented by Picasso -- it was amazing to walk the very same streets as these influential young men once did. I even saw the famous Moulin Rouge (which I had admittedly seen the night before in order to get the full effect of the neon lights), a cabaret that inspired a delightful and tragic movie of the same name. I'm glad I made some time to explore Montmartre more thoroughly; it was a brief period of respite from the lights and noise of Paris.
By this point in my trip, I was suffering from acute traveler's fatigue (read: I'm exhausted every day of my life), so I gathered together a picnic for one and found a shady spot in my favorite stretch of the Luxembourg Gardens. I took a blissful nap and later headed to the airport, thereby concluding my time in Paris and, by extension, my Magellan project.
And that's exactly why I didn't want to do it. Why should I spend my limited time in one of the most beautiful, culturally rich cities in the world doing something that I felt was obligatory? There wasn't even anything specific that I wanted to see. Of course, I didn't realize any of this until I had already waited in the massive entry line for about forty minutes.
I decided to go to the Musée d'Orsay instead, and I'm glad I did. While almost as popular as the Louvre, the d'Orsay is much smaller and much less overwhelming, and I found the exhibits to be more interesting. I spent a lot of time in the Van Gogh rooms and discovered a new passion for the paintings of Edgar Degas.
 |
| My new favorite Van Gogh painting, Starry Night Over the Rhone. |
After spending a few hours at the d'Orsay, I went back to one of my new favorite spots for a late afternoon pick-me-up.
 |
| You already know. |
I got dinner and drinks with a new friend that I met at the hostel. He was from San Francisco but went to school at Cornell, and we liked a lot of the same music! At this point in our respective solo trips, we were both in need of a little English conversation. We even went to see the Eiffel Tower at night -- neither of us knew that there is a sparkling light show for the first five minutes after midnight. It's an entirely different monument at night.
The next day, I made sure to stop by the favorite haunts of some great writers. I took a long walk to Hemingway's old apartment in the 5th arrondissement. I ate at the Restaurant Polidor, which Hemingway frequented, and also where the protagonist in Midnight in Paris first meets the writer in the movie. I peeked at La Closerie des Lilas, a beautiful restaurant established in the late 19th century, which was frequented by Baudelaire, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and other great minds (although the restaurant no longer caters to the budget needs of a penniless traveler).
I also made a stop at the Père Lachaise cemetery, which is arguably the most famous cemetery in the world and the largest one in Paris. Mourners and tourists alike flock to the hilly, shaded gathering of burial plots that spans over 110 acres. My time was limited, so I saw the two graves that I most wanted to see: Oscar Wilde, a wild (!) Irish writer who raised a lot of hell in his time, and Frédéric Chopin, composer and pianist. (Op. 72, no. 1 in E minor is one of my favorites.) I planted a kiss on Wilde's grave, which was marked with hundreds of colored lipstick stains. There's a funny story about how I was escorted out of the cemetery by some rather grumpy Parisian security guards, but I won't detail it here.
Throughout my trip, a strange phenomenon kept occurring: I would often think of what I needed or wanted to see (a metro station, Notre Dame, etc.), and it often popped up like a version of the Room of Requirement from Harry Potter. I accidentally stumbled upon a lot of great areas of the city. One of my favorite instances of this was when I thought to myself, I'd like to see the Luxembourg Gardens while I'm here. Sure enough, less than a minute later, I was standing in front of the main gate of the Luxembourg Gardens. I felt like I had entered a faerie dreamland of golden, sunlit copses of trees and carefully planted red and pink flowers. I even stumbled into a lovely outdoor concert from a local symphony orchestra.
While all of my literary sightseeing made me happy, my time in Paris was drawing to a close, so I knew I needed to visit another monster destination. My project took me to the hauntingly beautiful Notre Dame Cathedral, which is (unfortunately but rightfully) a top tourist destination. The Gothic architecture of the cathedral is beyond words; I only wish I could experience it without hoards of summer tourists shoving each other and trying to take pictures of the mass service.
Nevertheless, there was some academic interest that compelled me to visit the cathedral; Hugo's novel Notre-Dame de Paris (what we know as The Hunchback of Notre Dame) is largely credited with prompting the Gothic restoration of the cathedral in the wake of the destruction of the Revolution. Interestingly, the architect favored by Hugo, Eugène Viollet-le-Duc, is the same famed architect who unexpectedly lost a blind contest to Charles Garnier for the design of the Palais Garnier, a.k.a. the home of the Phantom! And we've come a full circle . . .
A recent discovery of some historical documents dating around the time of the cathedral's restoration (1820s) provides us with a compelling potential origin story for one of Hugo's most famous characters: Quasimodo, or the Hunchback of Notre Dame himself. Young sculptor Henry Sibson's journal entries make several references to a reclusive man he called Monsieur le Bossu, or "The Hunchback." To condense this interesting story for blogging purposes . . . it is entirely possible that Hugo visited the cathedral during construction and encountered M. le Bossu, who was a sculptor along with Sibson at the cathedral; they even both lived in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The man's real last name was allegedly M. Trajan. This is especially interesting because, in an early draft of Les Miserables, Hugo named his protagonist Jean Trejean instead of Jean Valjean. Did Hugo take a great deal of inspiration from his visits to Notre Dame? We can't be sure, but the links in this story were too interesting for me not to do a little investigating.
Aside from touring the main cathedral, I also opted to tour the towers. After waiting several hours in the heat wave that (much to my chagrin) finally returned to France, I climbed countless stairs in narrow spiraling staircases to the very top of Notre Dame. Here I viewed the stonework, the famous gargoyles, and even the belfry tower. It was beautiful, humbling, and also interesting to see the handiwork of our possible real-life Quasimodo.
 |
| Spotted in the midst of hundreds of signatures . . . |
On my last full night in Paris, I met up with a fellow English major friend from W&J, Katie Campbell! After scrambling to find a decent (and decently-priced) restaurant in Saint-Germain-des-Pres, Katie and I found a nice little restaurant where we shared stories of our travels. We both got a glass of wine to celebrate July 4th from across the ocean (although I would have been a little more proud to be an American if the Obamas were still in the White House). It was wonderful to see Katie, and we witnessed the most beautiful sunset over the Seine, gelato in hand. Vive la France.
The next day, I spent a lot of time in Montmartre; I took a walking tour of the town, which blissfully avoided most of the tourist traps in favor of the smaller and more authentic-feeling side streets frequented by locals. The narrow cobblestone streets were lined with bakeries, small markets, and tiny cafés, but this was also the creative hub of some very famous artists. I was able to see the home and studio of Pablo Picasso, the apartment of Vincent Van Gogh, a cabaret frequented by Picasso -- it was amazing to walk the very same streets as these influential young men once did. I even saw the famous Moulin Rouge (which I had admittedly seen the night before in order to get the full effect of the neon lights), a cabaret that inspired a delightful and tragic movie of the same name. I'm glad I made some time to explore Montmartre more thoroughly; it was a brief period of respite from the lights and noise of Paris.
By this point in my trip, I was suffering from acute traveler's fatigue (read: I'm exhausted every day of my life), so I gathered together a picnic for one and found a shady spot in my favorite stretch of the Luxembourg Gardens. I took a blissful nap and later headed to the airport, thereby concluding my time in Paris and, by extension, my Magellan project.
 |
| I'm already nostalgic for my favorite metro station . . . |