Locomotion

To me, the Seine is where the heart of Paris exists. Once we properly oriented ourselves from Le Marais in relation to the rest of Paris, we encountered the Seine each day - whether we crossed it or we walked alongside of it. The Seine is most inviting at dusk, when everyone is winding down and settling in for an evening along the river.

Here, you can get a glimpse of the scene, Notre Dame looming to the right and a group of folks seated to the left along the broad promenade. This picture is taken from the Latin Quarter, opposite to Le Marais. We sat here on our last night, contemplating life, culture and our history. More often though, we sat on the Il St. Louis side. The Notre Dame Cathedral is located on Il de la Cite. These two islands are connected to the hub of Paris by the Seine and the ponts (bridges). The islands are unique to the city but certainly part of it. I couldn't get enough of the Seine at dusk and night since we were equipped with baguettes, cheese, and wine (for me, Badoit - a sparkly mineral water). At times, A would make a glaces run for us both. Many chats about our life changes occured along these banks. You can't beat it, especially when Quasimodo is peering down on it all from the bell tower.

More of the grandeur of the Notre Dame Cathedral. Being near ND was a highlight for me. I read The Hunchback of Notre Dame in grade 7 or 8 and often imagined it. To see it and hear the bells ringing was marvelous. Each side of ND is distinct from the other - I wonder if that's because of the length of time it took to build.

Here we are at the Centre Pompidou - the Museum of Modern Art. I like this pic and the piece too - the premise of it was a hitman fleeing the scene of the crime. The 'Pompidou', which I really like saying out loud and often, is a strange piece of architecture since all the insides of it - such as heating ducts and stairs and stuff are on the outside of it so as to apparently maximize the space on the inside of the building. Not sure I buy it. We had fun there, especially when we 'had to' say Pompidou.

And, here's our entry point to Montmartre and you'll notice - to Moulin Rouge. It was skanked out, meaning commercialized, and by far less enticing than I had imagined. That said Montmartre from this point on was unique and lovely. The twisty-turny cobbled streets and hill-side views were fantastic. Montmartre is as far away from the centre of Paris that we traversed. We had some really good food at an artisanal boulangerie there.

To conclude Paris, I loved the Seine and cafe life more than anything else I've ever encountered. The shoes did not surprise (much to my dismay) and the fashion was not as I had imagined. I approached Paris with arms wide open and I don't think Paris embraced me back. Of course, it is gorgeous and full of romance - an experience that I'll cherish throughout my life. Hey, it's hard not to compare great cities to one another, but I'd rather keep chomping at the Big Apple any day.

Ah, le Arc de Triomphe. A rare moment in which no cars obstruct the view of this grand site. Eleven bustling rues (roads) meet le Arc intersection in the roundabout, making for a crazy beautiful experience. We got to le Arc from an underground pathway. We saw a few tourists attempt to cross from le Arc to the other side and gasped audibly when each one of their lives' flashed before the entire crowd.

A beautiful Paris cafe moment - A's cafe and my citron glaces, served with a water, mint leaf and a vanilla wafer. Can 4:00 PM in the afternoon get any better?

Eiffel Tower at dusk. This is a truly magic moment for anyone in Paris. I like the guidebook reference to it as 'the ultimate Iron Maiden'. The Eiffel Tower paired with the ponts (bridges) in Paris equals pure romance.

I've attempted to describe the wonder of le Louvre's pyramid entrance before. I don't know why the pyramid excites me so. I guess the backdrop of le Louvre and the innovation of the pyramid marry the qualities of Paris that endear me to it. At any rate, it puts the entrance of the Taj Mahal to the test and in my opinion, it wins.

A and me among the French sculptures. Talk about happy.

We've talked often about why we visit museums abroad (and for some reason not so much at home). They just make us feel happy. I can make numerous attempts to try and understand why one artists' work just looks ridiculous at one moment and violating the next but in the end, allowing the art to simply wash over me leaves me very content. There are very few pieces I can remember, but those days - like at le Louvre - are just really really good.

Oh, don't worry, I will continue the tripping out blog from Paris to Prague in the next weeks. That said, I felt it important to comment on the contemplative heart and mind that this vacation has provided for me. On this, our last day in Prague (mushmush, fairy-tale dreams and marker of my last trimester), I acknowledge that this trip was as essential in preparing for the next stage of my life as I had imagined it would be.

Je t'aime, A. Je t'aime my life.

Locomoting from one place to the next, certain that at whatever the pace, I'm moving forward... deliberately and embracing each moment for what it's worth.

Wearing fresh clothes, which were long lost treasures, we croissanted and cafed up for a day at the Louvre. The pyramid entrance although controversial, is just dreamy(and hot like an atrium), since it is framed in by the vast courtyard and the overwhelming U-shaped mansion. We didn't explore the entirety of the museum, but most. My personal highlights include La Presentation au Temple, Liberty guides the people, Captifs and the Mona Lisa. Leonardo da Vinci's bullet-proof piece was swarmed but with good cause. Mona Lisa is enchanting, she knows something we don't and her face is relatable and so what happens is that when looking at her, she becomes familiar. Truly, I'm so delighted to have met the woman.

From the Louvre, we ate a fantastic French lunch at a brassierie called Le Royal. I had my favourite French dish, which I'd never ordered before, called 'eggs on mayonnaise'. Yum. Just in case you didn't know, I love a few condiments very much. Of these few, mayo and mustard are included. And, "eggs on mayonnaisse" had both - which were made in house and had their own lovely texture, taste and character to them. Happy palate, happy preggy.

From le Royal, we tromped back to the entrance of the Louvre and made our way to the Garden des Tuileries. This grand channel led us to Place de la concorde and then onto Champs Elysees and le Arc de Triomphe. By the end of that big long promenade, I was just tired, albeit inspired.

I couldn't believe that in one day I'd seen the Mona Lisa, walked through the massive and legendary garden from the Louvre, or experienced the very route of the last day of le Tour de France. Paris is like that of NYC since you know so much about it before you land on the tarmac. Paris an integral part of our global identity.

We slept for four hours, woke at 3 AM Paris time, but not really awake, and then fell back to sleep. At 11 AM we got up and inquired about our luggage at the front desk. One bag had arrived at 12:30 AM... the one bag we didn't really care if it arrived or not because it was the bag that is intended for the shopping - the extra bag. Hmmm... One for three.

We explored our area and rambled through Le Marais. Croissants and coffee (espresso) are everywhere. Not just in our area, but all of Paris. We stopped in for both on occasion throughout the day and the entirety of our stay. In Paris, the cafe experience is remarkable. There are so many wonderful patios at boulangeries (bakery) and brassieries (cafe/restaurants). The remarkable part of these cafes is that one can have a coffee, or a wine, or an ice cream at any time and more often than not, without ordering food (although that is more difficult during the dinner hours). I loved that A could order a beer while I had a citron glaces (lemon ice cream) and we could just linger as long as we liked. We often pulled in for a break from rambling around and did just that. In Paris, the waiters (a completely distinct part of French society) do not bring the bill until you ask for it. This is lovely when all you care to do is sit. The client controls the duration although they do not control the transaction - that the waiters do. The waiters are overworked methinks. I must do some research on their union effectiveness/influence. Waiters were not always patient with us lame-o English-speaking orderers. To order...sometimes, it was agony, sometimes it was pleasant and very rarely was it delightful.

Did I mention that the weather was HOT? Yeah, really hot. Sweaty hot. The French were not impressed by it either. In our plane clothes, rambling, hot and hopeful that next time we touch base with our room, a bag would be waiting. At 3 PM, A's suitcase had arrived. Mine had not. Two for three...

We opted to check out the Latin Quarter, arrondissement 5, across the Il de la Cite (home of "my" lovely Notre Dame Cathedral). We rambled up towards Hemingway's former residence in which he wrote a good portion about in A Moveable Feast. We love Hem and just drank in his surroundings. I read that book again while in Paris, picturing his inspiration for writing, his circle of writer friends such as Scott Fitzgerald and Ezra Pound, and eating some of the same food he did at some of the same cafes (maybe).

Exhausted and well-fed, we headed back from La Contrascarpe and Rue Mouffetard toward the 4th arrond. and I tried not to focus too much on wanting my suitcase so badly to be there, waiting for me. I bet that it wouldn't be just to get over the disappointment before the fact. It had been 24 hours... watev.

11 PM, tired, sweaty and a little bit ill from my plane-head clothes, my big suitcase met me in the room. Yay... Paris will now know how darn cute I really am!

Where to begin... at this time, A and I are in Prague. We're near the end of our 'last hurrah' trip pre-baby's arrival which is flying by so quickly. My head is full of weird languages, my tummy is full of yummy food, and my heart is soaring with delight at it all.

Our flight via British Airways from home was quite good and efficient. We had a stopover and plane change in Heathrow, London for a mere hour. Forty minutes from when we departed Heathrow, we landed at Charles deGaulle in Paris. Unfortunately, our luggage did not. It's one of those rare occasions in which I packed a lot - likely because of my preference for comfort lately. Also, I find that options of clothing while pregnant makes for a much happier day since feeling pretty is a must with all the other crazy stuff going on in my head.

Sans luggage, we cabbed it to our Hotel, a little nugget in the 4th arrondissement (district), Le Marais, called the Hotel du 7e Art. We were prepared for a wee room in a prime location and that is certainly what we got. It was clean, quiet and the staff were very friendly and helpful.

It was 7:30 PM and we settled into our room, which took all of 30 seconds without our luggage, and decided we wanted to experience the Eiffel Tower on our first night. In our typical travel style, we want to get out jet-lagged and rot-gutted, to explore our new surroundings. We began to tromp it and realized that we were a ways off from getting to the tower before dusk. We opted for the Metro and in 2 trains with one transfer in 20+ minutes, we walked up the stairs to the street at Champs de Mars and saw the familiar, giant tower in front of us. We walked to the park surrounding it and found a bench to rest. It was about 9 PM by this time and nearly dusk. The yellow glow of it was just as I had imagined it. Then, came the light show - at exactly 9 PM - and WOW!.. we're really in Paris! The innumerable white lights glittered for 10 minutes. After that, the strobe on the top of the tower turned on and for the rest of the trip, we knew where the tower was in proximity to us.

We hopped back on the Metro, dog-tired and starved and found a patio table in our area by 10:30 PM. We were very quiet, waiting for the food, when conscienceness hit us we laughed at our jet-lag and keener adventure tour. We ate and dawdled back to our room to find not a bag to meet us. It didn't really matter though, because we're in Paris and it sizzles!

Arcade Fire's Neon Bible has tickled my senses. And for those of you that don't know... I'm not ticklish.

I fell in love with Arcade Fire's debut album Funeral about a year ago. I love the mess of it like the steaming tea kettles, layers of strings, triangle chiming, big fat piano chords and above all, the thematic LP. Funeral has a theme of home, mortality, familiarity and mourning. Sound depressing? For some reason it isn't.

Neon Bible is delightfully intoxicating. Many of the same components of Funeral are present but the theme is different. In fact, I haven't quite sorted it out yet, but I get the impression that the theme is that of disillusionment with faith. Listening to it is like reading a stranger's personal journal.

To me, this album feels very Bowie-esque. It shouldn't be surprising since Bowie is a major fan of Arcade Fire. Check out this performance of Bowie joining the group for a show a few years back (apologies for Heather Graham's enthusiastic camera shots - it is midly distracting). At some point, Bowie declared Arcade Fire's Funeral the best album of the year in 2005. I don't know about you, but if Bowie said he was a fan of mine, I'd be really happy.

To sharply contrast the Bowie sound, there is one song on Neon Bible that sounds like Bruce Springsteen's 'Born to Run' album. I don't know how that happened but it works for them.

For a sneaky peek of a Neon Bible single, try Black Mirror.