I seem to only be able to write on the trains. This is becoming a serious problem, as the train trips are getting shorter. Luckily, today was the longest one yet, taking 3.5 hours to go from Paris to Norwich, through London. The travel notes might not seem very important. Certainly, it is much more practical than writing to people individually, repeating the same exact content ad infinitum. However, the reason is far more personal and a lot more sad. My memory has failed. Though it has not gotten any worse, the doctor said the problem will remain until the underlying cause is addressed. That cause being some psychological neurosis. Thus, the writing will largely determine what I remember from each place. A supplement to the few photographs I take, they will be the only clues to what actually happened during my travels.
Memories for Lille, France: Longest trip so far
- Rugby: I usually do not watch sports. However, my hosts were planning on going to see the first match of the 6 Nationals Rugby tournament (UK countries plus France and Italy). Since I had never seen the sport before, I knew it would be a good cultural experience. We went to their favorite Irish pub to watch, which also makes this the first time I have ever watched a game in a bar. Rugby is altogether different than Football, moving at all significantly faster pace and with a lot more people on the field. My two hosts were always great and answered a million questions about the game, even when I did not ask. Now I am really interested in the game. It is still so new and different for me, that I am amused every time I watch it. The goal is to play a casual game with some friends to find out a bit more of the rules and strategy. No one seems to want to play though, claiming the sport is suicide. Instead I will look at the next new sport in England, Cricket.
- Guignols de l’info (): This brilliant news puppetry show is a lot like watching Jon Stewart’s parody news program. The best parts are the infant-like Bush, casual Obama portrayal, and that all Americans are represented by this global domination corporation and played by Sylvester Stallone puppets.
- Tectonik dance style (): My hosts also showed me some videos of this amazing dance style, which is a few years old now.
My second souvenir: The weather had gotten even more cold, so I decided to buy a scarf. I did not think it would be so cold here, so I left my three or four scarves at home, which were either really cheap and ugly ones I regretted buying for myself or gifts. What I wanted now was a trendy Afghan scarf. Wooly scarves leave lint in my facial hair, so these other materials were much more suitable. The Afghan ones are the most intricate of this texture and seemingly filled with history. My roommate in Minneapolis had one and I loved it. He might have gotten his in Afghanistan though, but I would have to do with an imitation. My host took me around shopping in Lille after she picked me up from the train station. After we had given up on finding the one I wanted, she took a chance on a hippy boutique and there they were. I only had to pick from the colors: white, red, yellow, teal, and orange. I met an American girl in Amsterdam whose parents were Afghani and she was telling me what all the different colors meant. The only one that was really certain and stuck in my mind was that the white one meant revolution and was actually to be feared in Middle East countries. Even though the white color would altogether match most of my clothes, I decided for red, the only other easy color coordinator (€ 9).
From Lille, I went to Paris for one week. A good half of the tourism to see is death-based, which really appeals to me. In fact, most of the churches also have tombs underneath, though I did not want to pay the extra money for those. The very first thing I did was go to see the Catacombs. Now, unlike other tombs and such, the catacombs are literally filled up with the bones, specifically skulls and femurs. The sight was very unexpected. No other death destination had every shown real skeletons before. Then, to come to Paris and the first thing I see is bones beautifully stacked and organized for well over thirty minutes during a tour of the underground tunnels was a shock, to say the least. In fact, I am considering putting this in with Amsterdam’s Red Light Window Shopping, namely that I really should not have seen it and will never be able to erase the memory from my mind. Death and prostitution “rule everything around me”. Conveniently, I was reading Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, which takes place in Paris. The book explained that sometime in the late 18th century, Paris made cemeteries in the city center a health hazard. As a result, the Cemetery of Innocents was relocated to a group grave, apparently the catacombs. Thus, cemeteries in Paris are reserved for the highly esteemed.
The Catacombs of Paris are conveniently located near Montparnasse, the second most important celebrity cemetery. I heard conflicting reports that Jean-Paul Sartre, my favorite philosophy, would be buried there. The site is a tourist destination because of the same imagery that makes New Orleans cemeteries popular. However, in New Orleans the crypts are all above ground, while in Montparnasse, the graves are unground and it is the elaborate decorations that make it appear like its Louisiana counterpart. I really enjoyed this place, especially since it was quite empty. Sartre surprisingly shares a grave with some women. Very romantic.
I went to another cemetery at night, Pere Lachaise. I thought my CouchSurfing host had said it was open and worth seeing in the dark. When I got there, I realized that I am far too skittish to be in a cemetery at night, let alone by myself. Luckily it was closed. So the only other death attraction I saw in Paris was Pantheon, its most important cemetery. Of course, I was not at all pleased to pay € 8 to go inside, but had known I would eventually reach a place that was a paid gamble. Turned out pretty well. Though not nearly worth the money, I loved it. At once a tomb and vaulted mural museum, the Pantheon was wonderful. At this point, I was simply pleased whenever a tourist destination had some underground parts or if death was attached to it. Although the crypts below the main space were not terribly interesting, they were underground and that was what was important to me. For that same reason, having my unlimited week-long travel pass on the underground subway (METROPOLITAN [Metro]) was also very special, making me immediately fall in love with the city (http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/02/paris-underground/noe-text).
Of course I did go to some of the other tourist sights. Most of them are quite exceptional, but much more from the outside. As my tradition, I found the biggest library I could. This turned out to be the National Library of France, Bibliotheque Francois Mitterand. The architecture is definitely noteworthy, especially the garden inside. Though libraries in France are not free, the perimeter surrounding the book rooms is pleasant, with enough chairs and silence to read. This was also one of my favorite places in Paris.
In the end, Paris is one of my favorite cities to travel in the world. That is, top two, vying with Copenhagen, Denmark. The final two days in Paris, I used to rest. It is the end of 6 weeks of traveling, by far the longest trip of my life. Though I might have been in Japan for 2 months, I was living in the dorms of my language school (YAMASA) in Okazaki, outside Nagoya, for over 3 weeks and really spent less than 5 weeks on the road. Thankfully, this ends the foreign language part of my journey. Now I begin my travels through English-land (the United Kingdom [UK]), my first time in an English-speaking country outside of the Americas First stop, Norwich.
