In the last week I’ve seen more cities, climates, countrysides and hotels than any other time in my life. I’ve been working to sync up my free-formed schedule before Rich’s arrival with the post-Rich structured one; and this has required a frantic pace at some times. I feel like my circular spinning around northern France and the low countries may have generated a climactic swirl of its own.
Paris was nice, but four days was plenty. Because everything is so expensive it necessarily attracts a different type of traveller. Visitors have more money, which means they tend to be older, and don’t demonstrate the same type of spirit as the reckless backpackers of the east. But this more urbane crowd is drawn to that city because of the rich culture and beautiful scenery. So, there was good and bad.
On the good side, it’s beautiful. The buildings, monuments, and even street lamps are lovely. The French also know food. Not only is their own native cooking terrific but their high domestic standards has raised the bar for the international cuisine that is also found on every corner. The wine here is cheap and terrific, and there exists a robust transportation system.
On the bad side, the French could give less of a shit if you want to interface anything. Take the Metro tickets, as an example. There are ten automated machines for purchasing these tickets in the largest train station, Gare du Nord. Half of them are down (with the NT BSOD), half of the ones left require exact change (no bills accepted!), and none of them accept non-European credit cards. There are no change machines or ATMs in the train station. This kind of lazy, disorganized interfacing is rampant everywhere. Waiters disappear, directions in Versailles are wrong, grocery store checkouts take forever, etc.
On the whole, France was better than I expected. Yesterday we wrapped up our time here with a day driving around Normandy. We walked the Fox Green portion of Omaha beach, saw the towering Le Mont St. Michel, which is a fortified abbey on the coast that becomes an island during high tide. Interestingly enough, the American Military Cemetary closed at 17:00, and we arrived 10 minutes too late. But as I told Rich, if my grandfather’s friends and relatives could charge those beaches with a bunch of krauts firing lead slugs at them, then I’ll be damned if a little bit of barb wire and aluminum fencing is going to keep me out. Luckily, we weren’t caught. My pictures there are uninspiring, as I wasn’t willing to take the time to set them up. But you should see that place when there isn’t a living soul anywhere on the complex. It was awe-inspiring.
Well, we’ve got a train to catch. A different type of adventure awaits us in Amsterdam.