Last Week in Paris

Somewhere on the northern Atlantic coast of 
France is a vast marshland that is periodically 
flooded by the ocean.  Mont. Saint Michel stands 
in the middle.  Some how she miraculously 
survived the millions of years of erosion by the 
sea.  There an ancient king built his city.  With 
eternity in mind, he constructed his palace solely 
with stones and next to a stark yet splendid 
cathedral, overlooking his city, his domain and 
out to sea.

Every year, the entire nation of France goes on 
vacation in August, and the Math institute is no 
exception.  The place was completely deserted and 
even the cafeteria was closed so the chef and the 
servers could go on vacations.  By that time my 
left foot was swollen up due to the excessive 
walking during my European tour, so I stayed in 
the institute and did my math.  A week passed 
before my left foot was functioning again and I 
realized I had only a week left, and I had yet 
to visit Versailles, Louvre and Musee Orsay.

Versailles

By train, Versailles was approximately an hour 
from Paris.  There were so many palaces in and 
around the city (Fontaine Bleu, Louvre, the 
Concierge and etc.) that I never truly figured out 
which king lived where and for how long, but there 
could be no doubt about Versailles.  It was the 
product of Louis XIV, the big huncho, the great 
roi soleil.  The modern Frenchmen have a love and 
hate relationship with their sun king.  He ruled 
the France at the zenith of her power and represented 
the splendor and culture France had to offer.  He was 
the King whom all the kings in Europe of the time 
imitated.  He was also the one who bankrupted the 
treasury and indirectly ushered in the big revolution 
with its assorted terror and beheadings.  On the other 
hand, the modern Frenchmen don't really think the 
revolution was that bad--Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite..., 
Marseilles, Marseilles...  You get the picture.

There were grandes apartements and big halls everywhere 
just like the Habsburg's palace in Vienna.  Versailles 
was just a lot bigger and with very few pieces of 
furniture and a lot more paintings.  The history went 
like this.  Versailles was the greatest palace in Europe.  
Then came the the revolution and most of the furniture 
was turned into firewood for the common folks.  Napoleon 
came and went and after a lot of trouble, the Bourbons 
were restored to their power, but didn't dare to live in 
Versailles, so Louis-Phillipe, the citizen king (now here 
is an oxymoron), turned it into a museum.

The paintings there were all about the glory of France.  
There was this huge hall with large paintings all around 
and each one of them was about a battle won by some French 
king or general, starting with the first mastodon kill by 
a prehistoric Frenchman.  Ok, I am exaggerating a bit.  
Needless to say I had never heard most of those battles with 
the exceptions of "The raise of the siege of Orleans by Jean 
d'Arc" and "The battle of Yorktown" (Yes, George Washington 
was in it too).  Of course, there were the battles by 
Napoleon.  If the Frenchmen have a love and hate relationship 
with Louis XIV, their adoration of Napoleon is unreserved.  
He is the greatest national hero of France after the soccer 
players who have just won them the world cup.

My choice of French military genius is Jean d'Arc.  She had
no military education.  From a humble origin of peasantry, 
she never had any education and couldn't read and write.  
Yet at a tender age of 16, she alone understood what it 
took to win the war and had the audacity to go and see the 
king.  Her perspectives on war and nationalism were 
thoroughly modern.  She was eventually caught by the British 
and turned over to the ecclesiastic court to be tried for 
witchcraft and heresy.  She was burned at the stake after 
a fair trial.  She couldn't read and write and had her own 
idea about God and saints.  She was right and the Pope was 
wrong, so of course she was found guilty.  The problem was
that she also crowned Charles VII who eventually drove out 
the Brits.  The idea that he was crowned by a witch just 
didn't sit well with his majesty, so he flexed his political 
muscle and had Jean rehabilitated.  She was finally turned 
into a saint early this century and her statues are now 
everywhere in Paris.  Her judges were all dug up from their 
graves and condemned to Hell for all eternity.  Pretty grim 
stuff, wouldn't you say?

She possessed formidable insights, especially about warfare.  
She had the essence of a romantic, putting everything on the 
line including her life.  It is the kind of story ripe for an 
epic or a tragedy.  It had to wait for Bernard Shaw because 
all the writers before him had this idea that stories about 
women must be centered on their romantic interests, complete 
with princes on their white horses.

Behind the palace is a magnificent garden extending to as far
as eyes can see, but the day was too hot and a soda costed 10FF, 
so I walked just a little bit.  The king's bedroom costed 75FF 
to enter and I was late any way, so I figured I would go back 
later, but never did.

Louvre

The main entrance to Louvre is built under a modern glass
Pyramid designed by the famous architect Pei.  The design
is controversial to say the least.  My opinion is that it 
looks ugly during the day, but quite nice at night when 
lit by lights.  Most of the things underground are commercial 
franchises, including fast food places and a Virgin super 
store, pretty tacky stuff.  The entire palace is separated 
into three parts--Sully, Richlieu and Denon, all named after 
people of questionable characters.  I went to Sully and 
before I knew it, the day was over and the museum closed, 
so I never saw the famous Mona Lisa which was in Denon.  
All in all, Louvre did not impress me that much--more 
grandes apartements and marble halls.  By then, I was a 
bit tired of marble halls.  The sculptures and paintings 
did not impress me much either.  I like the modern stuff 
and the staff told me that they were all in Musee Orsay.
The best part is the exhibit of the ruin of the old Louvre,
part of which was excavated when the modern Louvre was built.
By the way, all museums are free for university professors,
and offer discount prices for students, so be sure to bring 
your id's.  The tickets can be pretty expensive.

The river Seine runs through the center of Paris from 
northwest to southeast and Louvre is on the northern bank 
of the river near the center of the city.  From Louvre 
going northwest in parallel with the river are the 
Tuillerie garden, Concorde where the national assembly 
resides, Champs Elysee and l'Arc Triomphe.  All these 
structures are constructed in a straight line.  Standing 
in front the Louvre pyramid, one can see all the way to 
l'Arc Triomphe.  Further northwest is la Defense, a 
strange "open cube"  built by Francois Mitterand to 
"glorify" France (yet again) or perhaps himself.

On the day before, I saw a film, Embrasse-Moi, on 
television.  It was about a pre-teen girl (of divorced 
parents) who pulled one stunt after another to get 
attention and getting hurt.  Finally she went to Paris 
and met an old man and spent the rest of the day with 
him talking and walking around Paris (Kids, don't try 
this in New York).  The man got on a TGV late that night
and left her with his baseball cap.  After this ultimate 
stunt, she did one more (jumping into the Seine) then 
calmed down.  Not quite sure what the point of the film 
was and couldn't really understand the conversation, 
but the shots of Paris and of the river and the bridges 
at dusk were exceptionally beautiful.  I realized that 
despite having been to Paris many times before, I hadn't 
seen the sunset over Seine, so after Louvre, I decided 
to walk along the river till dusk.

In the middle of Seine at the center of the city are 
two islands, Ile Cite and Ile Saint Louis.  Ile Cite 
is packed with historical buildings, including Notre 
Dame.  The narrow western end of the island has a little 
garden in the middle of the river.  It also serves as 
a station for Bateau Mouche.  These are boats for 
tourists that just run up and down the river.  They 
have 20 to 30 powerful lights on each side that light 
up the buildings along the river as they go by.	After 
the sunset, I went to the very end of the island and 
sat down, with water three feet below my feet.

Sitting next to me were three Asian looking people, 
two gals and a guy.  After a moment or two, the guy 
said, "Ni Ho", which means "How are you?" and I realized 
they were from China and struck up a conversation.  It 
turned out the two gals were on vacation, and they met 
the guy at the hotel they were staying and the three of 
them decided to tour Paris together.  In any case, I 
ended up walking around with them for the rest of the 
night.  The guy was in Paris to learn French.  One of 
the two gals was a staff member in some university in 
Beijing, and the other was a finance student in a 
business school in Beijing run by some French bureaucracy 
and had just gone through a year of intense training in 
French.  So she was semi-fluent.  Her French teacher even 
gave her a French name, "Celine".

We walked around the city for the rest of the night and 
saw a few street performances near Place Saint Michel 
across the river from Notre Dame.  My newly acquainted 
friends all seemed to be very interested in United States, 
but none of them had heard of Tucson.  Celine's husband 
had visited United States, and probably had seen the grand 
canyon, so I said that Tucson was just a few hundred miles 
south of that, almost on the boarder with Mexico.

Celine was scheduled to go to some mysterious place called 
Mont. Saint Michel the next day.  Unfortunately, neither 
of her two friends wanted to joint her.  The guy had to 
work and the other gal wasn't interested in seeing things 
and wanted to save money, so Celine tried to talk me into 
going.  Her eyes lit up when she described the photos her 
friends took of the place.  I then remembered that I still 
had a day left on my Europass and might as well use it.

Mont. Saint Michel

The TGV to Mont. Saint Michel leaves from Gare Montparnasse
at 10:20 in the morning which meant I had to get up around
8:00 (I resented that).  Since I had the Europass, I was 
booked first class.  But Celine's ticket was second class, 
so I decided to move to her train.  The train was packed, 
and it took a few moving around before we found two empty 
seats.  Some small talks--Her husband works in the customs 
office... Mathematicians..., They both love to travel..., 
IHES..., Visa problems..., she and her friend joint a travel 
group and toured Europe on buses...  My European tour....  
I then fell asleep the rest of the way--getting up at 8 was 
way too early for me.

After two hours, the TGV stopped at a mid-sized city called 
Rennes and we switched to a diesel powered train.  More small 
talks--The Asian economy...  The trouble with her dog...  
Duty free shopping sprees in Paris...  The Chinese are getting
rich these days.

Getting off the train and on to a bus.  The traffic was 
jammed--all those tourists.  The landscape became flat 
and wide marshland appeared--flat and full of sand.  
Mont. Saint Michel stood tall surrounded by water and sand.  
It was tall but not majestic, contrary to what I had expected.  
The sky and the vast open space made every thing looked small 
in comparison.

We were dropped off right at the gate and the sign said,
"It is high tide now and you can park your car anywhere that
is dry."  A sea of tourists and hard to move...  Climbing
and more climbing, sweating and panting...  Ice cream,
Carte d'Or...  Half way up the hill, there was a line, 40FF
entrance fee and 25FF for people under 25.  Celine got the
discount, "Wait she is..., never mind..."   More climbing...  
I was so tired.

First stop, a cathedral.  It was built in the 8th century 
and made completely of stone.  The windows were made of 
lightly stained glass of two colors with simple and abstract 
geometric patterns.  It was stark and cold yet most solemn 
and reminded us of an earlier and mythical age.  The gate 
faced an island and the open sea.  Wagner....  The greatest 
cathedral I have seen in Europe.

There was a group sitting in the cathedral listening to a 
tour guide giving a rapid lecture in French.  It was too
fast for Celine and I had no idea what the guy was saying.

More climbing and finally arrived at a great hall.  Again 
it was stark and made of stones and devoid of furniture.  
There were two huge fireplaces at one side and one could 
look up to see a piece of blue sky through the giant chimneys.
The windows were made of the same lightly stained glass and
through them, I saw below the island, the sandy beach and 
the sea.

Next door was another great hall.  More stones, a model of 
Mont. Saint Michel...  Gibichungs...  Goetterdaemmerung...
This hall led to a dark passage that let to a place with what
appeared to be a huge water wheel.  An open balcony 
overlooking the wet marshland, incredible.  Celine had 
disappeared.  The room next to it was a dark crypte with 
enormous columns in the middle.  A small chapel of the size
of a living room followed, dark, stark and barren, with an 
alter made of stone facing an arch opposite.  The top of the
arch had an oblique opening and a piece of sky.  The guide said 
the design encompassed the cosmos.  The largest small chapel 
I had been to.  My mind was back in the 8th century or at 
least had an illusion of it.  I have wandered all over Europe 
and seen so many cathedrals and palaces, but this is the greatest.

The passage way led to a narrow open space--more breathtaking
views of the ocean and the sky, and finally back to the great
hall and down a spiral stairway.  A statue of Saint Michel 
slaying the dragon, take a picture.

The rest of the city down below consisted of narrow streets
with shops and restaurants on both sides.  They were all 
packed with tourists.  Bought a long baguette sandwich 
avec Brie et tomate.  It was impossible to move, so I 
climbed a bit again and ended up at a grave yard.  The 
sky was dominated by the palace and the cathedral.  

Five o'clock, I went to the bus stop to check the schedule 
and was tapped on the shoulder by Celine.  She was holding 
a huge Tuna baguette sandwich.  It turned out that she 
went down the spiral staircase without seeing the other 
half of the palace and cathedral, but she did see more of 
the city down below as a result.

There was a huge traffic jam (again) on our way back to 
the train station, and it appeared that we would miss the 
train and everyone on the bus was worried, but the bus 
driver was fully aware of the situation and, with the help 
of the police directing the traffic, was able to make it 
back to the station with 7 minutes to spare.  When the bus 
got into the incoming traffic lane to race ahead, I led a big 
applause for the driver.

Back to Rennes and with 50 minutes to spare before
the TGV left, we decided to explore the downtown area.  
Rennes is a reasonable size city.  Every few blocks, 
one finds a building that reminds one of the familiar 
Parisian architecture.  There was a palace-like
building which we suspected to be the city hall with
a beautiful garden in front.  I didn't remember
seeing anything like that even in Paris.  Unfortunately,
I ran out of films, but Celine took some pictures.  There
was also a canal running in the front with a pretty
fountain in the middle.  The city was almost deserted.
It was, after all, August, the holiday season.  There were
still a few restaurants open and not too crowded.  I would
love to have dinner there.  Unfortunately, we had no time.

The train back to Paris was completely packed and I was glad
that I had the farsight to reserve my seat in the morning.
I was seated first class right behind the engine and Celine 
got stuck in a second class smoking compartment.  I was 
fading in and out of consciousness for the rest of the trip.

Back in Gare Montparnasse 10:21 at night, French trains 
are always on time.  I suggested that we went to the 
top of Tour Montparnasse, the tallest building in Paris, 
but promptly got lost in the station and couldn't seem 
to get out.  It was almost eleven before we finally 
made it to Tour Montparnasse.  It proved to be a mixed 
blessing.  It costs 40FF to get up, but it was near 
closing time and when our elevator got to the top there 
was nobody there to collect money.  We ran the additional 
three floors to the roof.  There the entire city of light 
was beneath us and I had the panoramic view of her for 
the last time.

On our way back to the train station, I said I would go 
to Musee Orsay the next day and ask Celine if she would 
like to join  me.  She said she prefered to go to 
EuroDisney instead.  I said that she should get there 
early and then we said our goodbyes.

Musee Orsay

It used to be a train station on the bank of Seine
and was planned to be torn down at one point, but 
was some how preserved and turned into the present 
day museum.  There the Parisians house their 
impressionistic paintings and Rodin's sculptures 
among other treasures.  They are my favorites.  
I also saw one by Camille Claudel.  There are also 
many sculptures of Napoleon.  One of them portrays 
him reclining on a bald eagle which stands on top 
of the globe.  The inscription below says something 
like "Napoleon elevates himself to godhood."  I 
thought it hilarious, but the sculpture is dead 
serious.

On the top floor of the museum is a balcony overlooking
Seine with Louvre across.  At this part of the city, 
there are bridges across the Seine every few hundred 
yards.  One of them leading into Louvre is for 
pedestrians only and there are benches in the middle.  
I sat there facing Ile Cite with the sun setting slowly 
behind me.  The sky was crisp blue and Paris was 
beautiful beyond words.  I lied down on the bench and 
let the image freeze in my mind.

	That is no country for old men.  The young
	In one another's arms, birds in the trees...

I suddenly felt a deep sense of loneliness.  This was 
my last day in Paris.  

Again I walked the whole length of Ile Cite, passing
Notre Dame, and all the city magistrates' offices.  There
appeared to be a park at the eastern end of the island.
An old man was playing a violin near a bridge.  I dropped
10FF in his hat, "Merci, merci..."  The park houses a
nearly invisible memorial that is almost entirely beneath
the ground.  It looks like a tomb.  On its side and barely
above ground, the inscription reads "To the 450,000 French
citizens who perished between 1940 and 1945".  It is a 
memorial for the holocaust victims.  The entrance is barred
with steal gates, perhaps deliberately.  However, one can 
easily climb to the top.  From there, one looks down and 
sees a prison like cell without a roof and with a steel 
grated window facing the river.  I remembered a story 
of a holocaust survivor who looked up into the sky every
night and painted images in his mind.  After the war, he 
turned those images into real paintings.  It was deeply 
moving and the experience was comparable to the one I had 
visiting the Vietnam war memorial in Washington D.C.

The bridge connects Ile Cite to Ile Saint Louis.  From
the eastern end of Ile Saint Louis, I crossed back to
the southern bank of Seine.  Had dinner at a Chinese 
restaurant near Place Vosge.  In general, Chinese food 
is not very good in Europe and the food in that restaurant 
was marginally acceptable.  After dinner, I decided to 
walk randomly, hoping to see some parts of the city I 
hadn't seen before.  Ended up in the Jewish quarter where 
half of the shops had a star of David in front.  Fascinating.

In the old days, Bastile was a prison and an arsenal.
There is a canal connecting Bastile north to Seine.
The left bank of the canal is a park filled with street
performers.  There is a small bridge that goes across
the canal at the entrance to Seine.  The right bank has 
nothing but docks for boats and all the exits are for boat
owners only.  I had to walk all the way back.  As I walked
across the bridge, there was a homeless person coming
out of a narrow passage that seemed to lead to the 
southern bank of Seine.  I asked him in broken French 
where the passage led to.  He seemed to be trying to 
describe the passage in detail, but all I could be 
certain was that it was not a dead end.  

It was a narrow stretch of approximately six feet wide
between Seine to my right and a high wall to my left.
It was 9:30 at night and dark.  I thought what if I 
slipped... and my heart began to race.  Just then a 
Bateau Mouche was making a 180 degree turn and I was 
blinded by the many lights on her side.  I waved and 
took a bow.  My mind wandered...  "Had I a lover in 
my arms...  A gentle kiss...  A deep bow...  The world 
is a stage..."  There was nothing between me and the 
northern bank of Seine.

Au revoir, Paris.  I will miss you.