It was after 9pm when we landed at Charles De Gaulle airport, the famous airport looked old and dingy. We went to the window for the weekly transportation pass first, and then tried to figure out how to get our hotel. Thanks to our Japanese cell phone, we’d able to call the hotel for directions. With the help of the information window at the airport, the subway station and the local people on the bus, we found our hotel by 10:30pm. The room was small, but nice and comfortable.
Throughout all the sight-seeing, I liked the Louvre Museum and walking in streets of Paris the best. We spent 2 whole days in the Louvre and did lots of walking in Paris. Some times we needed to ask for directions and French people were helpful—they answered in French with hand signals, and that works.
To see Paris’ Catacombs was my idea because I heard so much about it from the travel channel in the States. It was troublesome to find, the Catacombs’ entrance on the map in our travel book wasn’t right. I was every excited when we were finally going down the spiral staircase deeper underground. Then, a strange thing happened—as the staircase ended we started walking into a dingy short narrow tunnel leading to the catacombs. Within a minute of walking in the tunnel, I started to panic, the tunnel seems endless to me, the more I went forward, the more I felt trapped. I stopped David and told him that I couldn’t go any further and had to get out as soon as possible. I encouraged him to go ahead without me and went back to the entrance. The staff at the entrance was surprised to see me because the exit was at the other side of the tunnel.
“Did you see a ghost?” the staff teased with a smile.
“No.” I said, “Claustrophobic.” Everyone at the entrance laughed.
One of the staff carefully told me how to get to the exit a few blocks away to wait for David to come out and reminded me that the tour will take about 40 minutes. I easily found the exit. Again, the staff was very friendly and offered me a place to sit and we chatted with short English phrases. There was a skull on the table and I had been told it was real.
“Can I touch it?” I asked with a finger pointing at it.
“No.” staff answered.
“Can I hold it then?” I decided to keep myself amused while waiting.
“OK” was the replied.
“Really?” I placed both my hands around the skull, pretended to pick it up and check the staff’s facial expression at the same time.
“Yes, yes.” He nodded.
And then the staff happily helped me to take pictures of me holding the skull.
Throughout all the sight-seeing, I liked the Louvre Museum and walking in streets of Paris the best. We spent 2 whole days in the Louvre and did lots of walking in Paris. Some times we needed to ask for directions and French people were helpful—they answered in French with hand signals, and that works.
To see Paris’ Catacombs was my idea because I heard so much about it from the travel channel in the States. It was troublesome to find, the Catacombs’ entrance on the map in our travel book wasn’t right. I was every excited when we were finally going down the spiral staircase deeper underground. Then, a strange thing happened—as the staircase ended we started walking into a dingy short narrow tunnel leading to the catacombs. Within a minute of walking in the tunnel, I started to panic, the tunnel seems endless to me, the more I went forward, the more I felt trapped. I stopped David and told him that I couldn’t go any further and had to get out as soon as possible. I encouraged him to go ahead without me and went back to the entrance. The staff at the entrance was surprised to see me because the exit was at the other side of the tunnel.“Did you see a ghost?” the staff teased with a smile.
“No.” I said, “Claustrophobic.” Everyone at the entrance laughed.
One of the staff carefully told me how to get to the exit a few blocks away to wait for David to come out and reminded me that the tour will take about 40 minutes. I easily found the exit. Again, the staff was very friendly and offered me a place to sit and we chatted with short English phrases. There was a skull on the table and I had been told it was real.
“Can I touch it?” I asked with a finger pointing at it.
“No.” staff answered.
“Can I hold it then?” I decided to keep myself amused while waiting.
“OK” was the replied.
“Really?” I placed both my hands around the skull, pretended to pick it up and check the staff’s facial expression at the same time.
“Yes, yes.” He nodded.
And then the staff happily helped me to take pictures of me holding the skull.
A week after, we took a red-eye flight to Vienna.
More Wishes:
- Check out more Museums in Paris.
- Come to Paris with my girlfriends for shopping only.
No comments:
Post a Comment