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Tuesday and Wednesday in Madrid were hectic, filled with last-minute touring, packing, and farewelling before boarding our night train to Paris. Tuesday evening, Blair, Aedan and I went to Paco and Pilar's, my Spanish parents, for our final goodbye. Aedan and I were to meet Blair at their piso at 6 p.m., but we were running late. Blair, thinking ahead, brought his Spanish/English dictionary and held his own for a good 15 minutes. Pilar says that all he needs is to come back and live with her for a couple of months. Maria, Pilar's youngest daughter who still lives at home, put out olives, cheese, serrano ham, chorizo, potato chips and bread for us to snack on while we sipped a beer. Paco showed us their renovated terraza and his beloved flowers. Pizca, Maria's puppy, a Westie, and Aedan were glued together. I think that Aedan enjoyed seeing all of the small dogs in Madrid and Paris more than anything else on our trip. She's lobbying hard for a small dog of her own. As suspected, I cried buckets when we got up to leave. Pilar said that she loves how I cry. Maria chastised her. "Mama, no digas eso!" (Mother, don't say that!), she said. (When I lived in Madrid in 1981-82, I cried for a solid two weeks when it was time to leave.) I said that I hoped it wouldn't be another 18 years before I see them again, and Pilar said that it better not. "Sere en una casa de pino" (I'll be in a house of pine), she said. (She probably said caja de pino, box of pine, but I heard casa de pino, house of pine, which cracked me up.) There is something about Spain, especially Madrid, that crawls under your skin. I've travelled a lot and lived in several places, but no place makes me want to burst into tears when I have to leave it like Madrid does. I'm going to do more reflection on why that is, and I'll write about it later. After saying goodbye to Paco, Pilar and Maria, we walked down Cea Bermudez, my old street to the Faro de Madrid (Tower of Madrid), right next to the building where I used to attend classes in Madrid. Talk about a sentimental journey! We were supposed to meet the students and faculty at the faro at 8:30 p.m., but only Mark, the art appreciation professor, showed up. Aedan was disappointed because she likes hanging out with the "big" kids. Being at the top of the tower was a nice way to end our month in Madrid. "We came. We saw. We conquered!" The tower was completed in 1992, the 500th anniversary of Columbus' voyage, and it's got a stunning view of all of Madrid. We were able to see our apartment and all of the surrounding environs, including El Palacio Real and the cathedral. The tower closed at 9 p.m., and we walked over to the Moncloa McDonald's for a 2 Euro meal to go. Mark decided he wasn't up for McDonald's, so he bid us farewell. We were just about to leave when most of the students showed up. They also got meals to go, and we walked over to the Parque de Oeste for a picnic. There, the students talked about what they'd miss most and wouldn't miss about Madrid. It seems that most of them are really going to miss Madrid, and they want to return as soon as possible. It was a great way to end our trip, even though I got bitten by redbugs or something that itched the whole time I was in Paris! Wednesday morning, I got up early to take one last sentimental journey into the heart of Madrid. I took the metro over to La Plaza Colon from Arguelles, walked down to Cibeles and the beautiful Palacio de Comunicaciones, up Alcala to La Puerta del Sol, and down Preciados over to Callao, where I took the bus home. I went for one last coffee at the Cafe/Bar Rio Duraton on Calle Tudor, the first restaurant we went to in Madrid. From there, I went back home to finish packing and move furniture back into its proper place. While Blair was busy with laundry, I made one final dash to Suffolk to check e-mail, download photos, burn two CDs of our photos, return the borrowed fan, return the school's cell phone, and give Raul (the computer guru) and Africa (the school's receptionist) bottles of wine. When I returned home, Mari came upstairs with a tortilla espanola she made for us for our train ride to Paris. The owner of our apartment, Maria, came to get the sheets and towels, but we told her she didn't need to worry because Blair had done all of the laundry. We loaded up all of our stuff, and knocked on Mari's door for a final goodbye. She burst into tears before I did. We really became good friends in a short time. Her son, Javier, who's 17, is planning on coming to stay with us next summer. I'm sure her daughter, Cristina, who's 11, will do the same when she gets older. When we got down to the street and were walking over the metro, Maria, the apartment's owner, offered us a ride to the train station. Good karma coming back at us for putting the apartment in top shape. I was dreading the train ride to Paris, because I thought we only had seats. I can't sleep sitting up, so I knew the first day in Paris would be a bear. Thankfully, not only did we have seats, we had first-class bunks that housed four to a cabin. Blair, Aedan and I had our own cabin. Awesome! I've traveled by train a TON, and this was the best night voyage I've ever had. The students are going to be spoiled for anything less now if they come back and travel by Eurrail pass. Aedan felt like she was on the Hogwarts Express. Unfortunately, Aedan fell down and twisted her ankle getting off of the train. I knew it was painful, because she rarely cries when she is hurt (She didn't when she broke her arm.), and she was holding back tears. I was concerned about what a sprain or a break would mean for our four days in Paris, but she was a trooper. We put ice on her ankle immediately, and she was able to hobble along. We took a taxi from Austerlitz Train Station to our hotel, a dump, but a good location that EF Tours also uses near Sacre Coeur de Montmarte. Since our rooms wouldn't be ready until 2 p.m., we walked up to Sacre Coeur, had our first chocolate crepe, fended off the portrait artists, enjoyed the street artists, and toured the basilica. It was COLD. Definitely not what Texans know as July weather. We then went back to our room, took a shower and a nap, then Aedan, Blair and I took the metro over to the Trocadero stop for our first view of the Eiffel Tower. (I thought I remembered seeing it from Sacre Coeur before, but the trees obstructed the view this trip.) It was as stunning as usual. We took some family pictures, and we watched several incredible in-line skaters zoom through a colored-cup obstacle course. We walked under the tower and through the gardens, full of beautiful flowers, which made it seem like spring in July. The groomed chestnut trees are always a pleasure to see, too. From there, we walked over to Invalides, which houses Napoleon's tomb, and then took the metro back home to the Anvers stop. We had pizza at a Moroccan restaurant (!) and called it a night. Friday morning, we headed over to the Louvre, the world's largest museum. The Louvre was once a palace, so it feels like Madrid's Palacio Real in many ways with its intricate marble floors, grand staircases, and barrel-vaulted ceilings. We hit the high points first: the Mona Lisa, Winged Victory, and the Venus de Milo. That took about two hours, and Aedan was museumed-out, so we left Blair at the museum and strolled down the Avenue de Opera to Les Galeries Lafayette, a gorgeous department store with a cafe that boasts a breathtaking view of Paris. We went straight to the cafe for lunch, and all that Aedan found to eat were French fries and chocolate mousse. Oh well, when in Paris... Afterward, we shopped and shopped and shopped. Or should I say looked and looked and looked. Even though things were on sale, it was still very expensive. (The dollar is still weak against the euro.) We did manage to buy a couple of things, and we enjoyed smelling all of the delicious smells in the perfume department, which is housed under an unbelievable colored-glass dome. We went back up to the cafe for an afternoon coffee and brownie break, and enjoyed gazing out over the city, and especially the Eiffel Tower, again. From there, we walked over the the Galeries Lafayette Gourmet store next door. This definitely reminded me of Central Market, and it made me wistful for Spain because they had a Spain counter that featured bocadillos and tortilla espanola. We met Blair at 6:30 p.m. at the arch outside of the Louvre. We took the metro back to Anvers and had more pizza, this time at a pizza restaurant. Saturday morning, we again had breakfast at our hotel (included in the price of our room), which consisted of cafe au lait or hot chocolate, a croissant and rolls. It was a nice way to catch up with everyone and give them and learn about tips on where to go and what to see. We then went to the Pompidou, the museum of modern art, for a visit. Besides housing a great collection of art, it offers a beautiful view of the city. In the small world category, I ran into David Cay Johnston, a reporter for The New York Times, who I had taken a course from in San Antonio at a Poynter Institute National Writers Workshop the weekend before we left for Madrid. I spoke with him in San Antonio, because my grandmother's maiden name is Johnston, and I wondered if we could be related. I ran out of time to e-mail him my family history before leaving town, but I'm going to do so now. He said that he, too, had some Louisiana ties. After touring the museum, we walked down the street and found a sidewalk cafe selling grilled cheese sandwiches. We bought some, and went back to the Pompidou to watch the street performers. One guy was balancing on stacks of moveable objects. Truly incredible. I took his picture. Afterward, we went back to the same restaurant for chocolate crepes. Delicious. Aedan was in heaven. For the first time in my life, I had to hand the last several bites to Blair because it was just too sweet for me. We then walked over to the Orsay museum, which is a converted train station that houses Impressionist art, my favorite. We got our fill of Degas, Monet and Van Gogh before heading over to Le Petit St. Benoit, a restaurant in the St-Germain area that's been "offering indigent Left Bank intellectuals the same for more than 125 years" (Access Paris Guidebook). The food was delicious, and it was the perfect place to celebrate our 12th wedding anniversary. We sat outside, drank red wine, enjoyed our meal and talked with some very nice French Canadians who were on vacation. We took the metro home to Chateau Rouge, another stop close to our hotel. Sunday, our last day in Paris, was a walking day. We took the metro down to Notre Dame, toured through the church, and waited in line to walk up the north tower. While we were in line, it started to rain, so we went over to a line of nearby tourist stores and compared umbrella prices. We found some that we liked that feature the Eiffel Tower and Sacre Coeur in an impressionist style. The umbrellas came in handy, because it rained on and off all day. Not hard, but constant. We made it up all of the winding steps of the tower to another gorgeous view of Paris. We also went further up into the bell tower and pondered how in the world they got that huge bell up into the tower in the days before heavy equipment. From Notre Dame, we walked over to the Ile St-Louis to check out a bakery that Blair read about in our guidebook. We bought quiche lorraine and other tasty items for lunch. We went back for something sweet afterward, and Aedan chose a chocolate meringue confection. We cut it in half. The inside was meringue, and it had been rolled in dark chocolate then rolled again in dark chocolate powder. Heaven. That gave us the energy to take the metro to Place de la Concorde, the site of a 3,300-year-old Egyptian obelisk, and walk down the Champs-Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe. Madrid has a lot of pretty arches as you enter into the city, but nothing compared to the Arc de Triomphe. (Interesting aside: The Tour de France started while we were there on July 3, our anniversary, and it will finish under the Arc de Triomph on July 25. Lance Armstrong of Austin, Texas, is trying for his sixth win.) We happened upon a memorial service for World War I and II American veterans under the arch. A French military band broke into "The Star-Spangled Banner" followed by the French national anthem while red, white and blue flowers were being laid on the tomb of the unknown soldiers. I got weepy, because I was reminded of my father, a World War II veteran, who was in France during and after the war. He, in fact, met General Patton at the Follies Bergier while he was on leave in Paris. It was a special way to spend the Fourth of July. From there, we went back to the St-Germain area for dinner at St-Benoit's, which was closed on Sunday. We went to another Left Bank haunt, the Polidor, which Hemingway, Joyce, Valery and Verlaine frequented. It was good, but not as good as Le Petit St-Benoit. Afterward, we got one final chocolate crepe, which Aedan said was the best of the trip, before heading back to the hotel. When we got back, I slipped notes under everyone's door reminding them to be in the lobby by 9:30 a.m. to catch the airport shuttle. Some of the students were in their room when Aedan and I went by, and we asked them if they were in for the night. They said that they were going to go to the Eiffel Tower at 11 p.m. to see it lit up. Aedan and I went back to our room and told Blair, and we decided that we wanted to go, too, since we hadn't seen the tower at night. I'm so glad that we did. We jumped back on the metro at Anvers and took it took Trocadero. We we came out, the tower was lit. Then, on the stroke of 11, a light show began. The Eiffel Tower looked like it was a Fourth of July sparkler. I'm not sure, but I think this is something that must have been started on New Year's in 2000. It was definitely new to me. Absolutely gorgeous. The show went on for 10 minutes and then stopped, leaving the tower lit up. (According to my students, the light show is every hour on the hour after 11 p.m.) We took some more family photos and called it a night. Seeing the tower at night was definitely a high point of our four days in Paris and a great way to end our adventure. The ride to the airport the next morning was very interesting. I prayed that after five weeks without incident we would make it safely to the airport. We had to order three minivans to handle 18 passengers with enough luggage (luggages, according to the driver) for 30. The driver, an immigrant from Sri Lanka, was interesting to talk to. He doesn't think highly of George W. Bush, and he said that he really admired Bill Clinton, a very smart man. I said, "Yes, he's smart, but he cheated on his wife." The driver said, "What man hasn't had two or three women? We are only tourists on this planet. Like you. You come to Paris for a very short while and you leave. That's how it is with life. I want to enjoy it to the maximum." I hope you've enjoyed this armchair tour! Now that I'm in the habit of writing, I may continue to post on occasion. Thanks for reading. Stay tuned! Post a comment in response: |
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