Alright. This is ridiculously long and I apologize.

Continued from last post: Coming down from our initial adrenaline rush, we started making our way to the base of the tower. Just as we were passing through the trees along the path of this oh-too-perfect pond, paralysis stopped us in our tracks again as the entire tower suddenly lit up and started twinkling like the biggest Christmas tree in the world. I'd be lying if I said the two of us didn't literally squeal with glee at the sight of it all. :) When we were able to move again we set up camp to enjoy a little picnic dinner. Grapes, baguette, and cheese just have a better taste when you eat them under the Eiffel Tower. 

WEDNESDAY

Alright. So. I move on to Wednesday, our day of taking on Paris by foot.

Putting into consideration the inconvenience of our hostel’s location, we didn’t get into the city and settled at a breakfast place (yes, A Petit Dejuner, for you Will Ferrel/SNL enthusiasts J) until around 11:30am. Full of crepes, baguettes, and coffee, we strolled along to the Jardin de Champs Mars, the vast garden at the base of the good ol Eiffel Tower. We dinked around in the garden for a while, just people watching and taking dorky pictures on the map of the EU at her feet. Having had our full of Katie and Stacey Europe Domination pictures, we started making our way to Notre Dame Cathedral. This was a long walk but it was expected to be as such, since all we really wanted was to look around the city and soak it all up. So we took our time. After about an hour of strolling we finally arrived to Notre Dame, its imposing front façade greeting us opposite of a tiny channel off the river Seine. It just looks so powerful; I don’t know how else to describe it. Well either way the magic stopped at the front door. Immediately upon walking in to the church, you realize that it is no longer the sacred place it once was. It’s beautiful and detailed and cavernous and huge, but the appeal of tourist dollars has somewhere along the way trumped the importance of keeping the church a sacred place. In was jam-packed with people shouting and taking pictures, and each chapel which lined the outside of the nave was complete with a request for money. I felt the opposite of at peace there.

Luckily for us the Louvre was up next on the itinerary, where we were bound to be inspired at. The museum is appropriately located right on the Seine, and is no joke longer than a football field. It took us what seemed like forever to get to the entrance after first coming up to the back of it! But finally turning that corner and beholding the famous pyramid settled within the courtyard of one of the most well-known museums in the world was so amazing. And once we were finally in, my heart couldn’t keep up with my eyes. I wanted to see everything. We came after-hours so we wouldn’t have to pay as much, which limited our time to about three hours. So, disappointedly, I sat down and did the responsible thing to prioritize what I had to see. In three hours I saw a whole hallway of paintings from Italy, France, and Spain from the 13^th through the 16^th centuries, and a handful of Ancient Roman and Egyptian sculptures. (Mind you, there are at least six “hallways” in the whole place, along with four floors of other galleries. A whole day there will be well spent next time I’m in Paris. J) I did well, too, I only cried three times. The first time was just because I happened to catch a glimpse of the vast courtyard/garden/pyramid from inside the museum, and the bright pink and blue sunset over a city that you should feel so lucky to see would have moved anyone to tears. So lay off. The other two times were instigated by two separate post-crucifixion paintings. I had never seen either of them before. They were each created by completely separate artists at completely separate time periods, and yet the overwhelming sadness that gripped Jesus’ friends and admirers in each had never been so touching to me. The first one didn’t even need to show Mary Magdalene’s face to portray how broken she was at Jesus’ death; she was depicted from the back, kneeling with her arms raised and head thrown back to him on the cross. And the later one threw bawling children into the mix. A low blow. Two plump little angels, one staring at the crucified Jesus and one holding his wounded hand and staring at me, had tears streaming down their faces like toddlers get when they throw tantrums. It wasn’t even fair…they were so real and vivid. I got choked up here and there at other points throughout the museum when I sat down and allowed myself to fully appreciate every detail of the paintings I was beholding. A passionate artist poured his heart into every stroke, every blend in every square inch of these paintings, some of which were literally ten feet tall and twenty feet long. How could that concept not move a person? Long story short, the Louvre was most certainly a highlight of the trip.

When it was time to leave, Stacey and I made our way back to our good old girlfriend, the Eiffel Tower, for one more hurrah with her. We paid for third-floor tickets, and within ten minutes were standing on a platform that provided us with a full view of the city of Paris. I was glad we waited to go up top because we could look out and see everything we’d been able to visit in the last two days. It was a powerful spectacle. Confirming every cliché that Paris has about being the city of love, a couple got engaged while we were standing up there. Certainly in anticipation for moments such as that, the tower’s tourist center has a bar advertising champagne right up there on the top. J

We called it a night after that and headed back to the hotel, exhausted from walking everywhere that day. The plan was that we’d get up the next day, head to the train station to get our tickets to Amsterdam, go check out the Sacre Coeur Cathedral and maybe the Moulin Rouge, then hop on our train to Amsterdam around 6pm. It was a perfectly planned day.

 

THURSDAY

But as it goes with traveling, nothing ever goes perfectly according to plan. The day started off with us learning that there were no tickets to Amsterdam left at ALL that day. We’d have to wait until the next morning. Alright. So we had already booked the hostel in Amsterdam and wouldn’t be able to cancel it at this point, fine. Not cool. But honestly there are worse places to get stuck for an extra day in right? Stacey and I made the best of it: Neither of us are the kind of girls who could ever justify planning a chill day in a foreign country, since every second we have in a new place we want to maximize on. So, in the long run, an extra day dedicated to nothingness ended up being a bit of a gift for us! We took our time getting in to a new (and much better…) hostel for the night and then making our way to Sacre Coeur. I had been told that Sacre Coeur was much different than Notre Dame, and was pleased to find that I agreed; as opposed to Notre Dame this cathedral not only boasted a welcoming sloping lawn where visitors all just rested and enjoyed the view of the city, but it also had managed to preserve its sanctity over years of being a tourist hot spot. I wasn’t allowed in until I put my jacket on over my tank top and no talking or photography was allowed inside the church. And so it actually felt like I was entering a holy place when I got there. So everyone should see Notre Dame before Sacre Coeur when they visit Paris, because that order will make you appreciate it that much more. J

We meandered around through the district surrounding the cathedral when we’d seen enough of the church. The area was called Montmatre and exploring its streets might have played a big role in improving my opinion of Paris up until that point. I definitely appreciate Paris for what it has to offer in beautiful sights, vibrant history, and lively culture; but I really can’t say I love it. Being in that outside district was nice because I got to see a side of Paris that just wasn’t trying so hard, if that makes sense. So much of the other areas we saw in Paris were so showy and phony and this district was more natural. Not even a Starbucks in sight.

So anyway, after seeing the Moulin Rouge in the Montmatre area we took the metro to Champs Elysees, the big busy street that embodies the showy and phony Paris I was just describing. It’s pretty awesome high-paced people watching I tell you. J Stacey needed to get her Sephora fix and I felt like playing around with expensive makeup, so we ended up spending almost an hour in the carnival that is Sephora. I enjoyed myself a bit too much, however, and managed to shatter one of the biggest and most expensive bottles of perfume they had there. I just couldn’t help but laugh at the Sephora Gods’ clever way of paying me back for my silent judgments of the place throughout my visit; oh karma. J 

We basically said our goodbyes to Paris after another hour or so out in the city, and went to bed exhausted and ready for a full day of traveling to Amsterdam in the morning.

 

FRIDAY

I’ll spare the details of the day up until 7pm that night. In summary, we traveled from Paris to Amsterdam and it took us all day. 

Anyway at around 7:00 we met up with Stacey’s friend Neala and her group of engineering students she was traveling with, along with two of their friends from home in Canada as well. It was refreshing to be in a big group and meet new people again. Since it was so late when we all finally settled down for dinner, we ended up staying out and going to a bunch of different bars until the wee hours of the night. I was shocked to find  that there were no cover charges anywhere…it was really nice to say the least. Not to mention, Neala’s business credit card covered the cost of our accommodations for the night so that was the right price there too.

 

SATURDAY:

The next day Stacey and I went to the Anne Frank museum, which was chilling. Whoever was the brains behind that museum was a genius; it’s set up for the visitor to follow along the building (it is in the actual secret annex from the diary) in a specific order, all the while reading excerpts from the diary that correlate to the items on display. Seeing it all definitely reestablished my profound respect for everything Anne Frank wrote in her diary; it’s hard to imagine such a young girl with such gripping intuition.

 Amsterdam is an awesome city to just wander around in. There are trams running along all the major roads but for the most part everyone else bikes or walks. There are very few cars. So we spent the bulk of the rest of our afternoon doing just that, which was just what all the other tourists were doing too. In our wanderings I got to see a lively break dance show a square and either a protest or a photo shoot (couldn’t really tell), eat a delicious falafel, and look around in an impressive little hole-in-the-wall local art shop. If anyone would like any more details of my time in Amsterdam, please feel free to ask me personally. :) 

SUNDAY 

I’m writing this now on my train to Vienna. I separated from Stacey and left this morning at 10:30am. There were some issues with my last train, but I’ll be meeting Luke Viertel in Vienna at 11:30pm if everything corrects itself.

So until I get Internet again…miss you all!

Katie