last day in paris, last day in europe

well, last full day in paris, last full day in europe.

if you know anything about me, you would know that this does not make me happy. i woke up a little early, cold, suprisingly, listening to the traffic four floors below. the only thought running through my head was: this is my last day in paris.

i laid awake for a little while before the girls woke up. then, they had to get ready. do you know how long it takes girls to get ready? well, kelli took a little longer 'cause she had to straighten her hair. we went to the bakery for some breakfast bread, then off to the musee d'orsay. we had bought some tickets off norbert before the end of the tour. this saved us quite some time with the line.

we walk in, then go to the top. the impressionist floor. monet. manet. van gogh. renoir. matisse. whistler. a bunch of 'em. my favorite was one called "la nuit," or, "the night." i forget who it was by, but i took a picture. better believe you'll see it later.

we roamed around here for a few hours, then headed to lunch back by notre dame. while the girls went to the crêpe shop i visited on saturday afternoon. as we walked up, i realized i was out of cash, so i headed for a bank. by the time i got back, they were almost done. so i went to find another place to sit and have a bite while they shopped. i found a place that served some onion soup. well, we might call it french onion soup, but when you're in france, it's just called onion soup. this soup was better than the night before and would end up being better than the stuff i ate later that night. i had a pepper steak, some fries, and some fruit salad for dessert.

when i got done, i needed to pick up a couple of souvenirs myself. we shopped for a few minutes, then headed to the sacré cœur - the last of the three things we wanted to do, taking it easy. the metro took us to, what i could summise, the closest stop to the basilique. 365 steps later, we arrive at the top of the mountain. many of them just in the metro stop. when the girls go inside, i find the other stop on the map that i couldn't find, the funiclaire. i can only imagine that it takes you from the metro stop we were at to the top of the mountain (i dare not mention this to the girls, by the way, just smile to myself as i notice it.)

at the top is a little artist community around the church. the view is tremendous. you can see the entire city from up there. around the front of the church is a guy play the diggery-do and across the street is a guy with a guitar and a little amp playing to the crowd on the steps. he's singing reggae-ish. his buddy comes up later to sing cover songs, stand by me, when the lion sleeps tonight, roxanne.

after we get our fill of the wonderful view, we get a small bite to eat. i get onion soup again, the girls share a panini. the waiter was a funny guy, rapping with us in plain english. then, it's back down the hill.

we get back to the hostel to pack. the girls, or "poopers," as i like to call them, decided that they were too tired to go to the river and have a couple of drinks. so, i get everything ready to sneak in that night and go down to the internet cafe. that's when i tried to check in online, but failed 'cause i didn't have my information with me (who knew that they needed a confirmation number? pshah!).

running low on cash, i get a couple cans of beer and go to the river seine. i just plop down, dangle my feet over the edge, watch the water, and drink some beer. heineken and 1664. the reflection of the light on the water reminds me of a van gogh painting, short brush strokes moving quickly over the canvas of the black water. i see some people in the distance, on the bank, and a ferry boat that was moored at the side with music booming. behind me, it looks like a few people are hanging out at a table, which i thought was odd and out of place.

i sit there for, maybe :30 or :45, just enjoying the cool air and the sight of the river. this is, after all, my last night. i see a ferry boat, a dinner cruise, really, pass me, from east to west. my thoughts are my own, thinking about the trip, thinking about me, thinking about so many different things. i'm not excited to come home. the girls are, but i'm definitely not. i could stay. i could definitely stay. i'm not bummed, i'm not depressed, i'm not really even sad. i know that i have to return the next day, and i know that i will. so, i enjoy the moment. i enjoy my last minutes in paris, in europe.

shortly thereafter, that ferry boat comes back my way. i see it turn in the water, just past me. there are a handful of men standing outside the dining room, and one lifts his glass to me. i, of course, respond in kind. in moments, i find out that they're going to park that son of a bitch right in front of me, spoiling my view. but this is still interesting...for sure. i don't move a muscle - now, instead of watching the river, i'm watching the people on this boat.

the windows are cracked slightly, so i can overhear some of the conversations. most of it is in english, but i can also hear some in french and, i think, german. but i can't hear anything too well.

there's one table in particular, in the back, that has about five or six men sitting around it, with a woman at the back of it. i see them looking in my general direction. they're chuckling and carrying on. who knows what they're talking about? maybe about work, maybe about one of the people that were sitting in the table across the room, maybe about some show that some of them attended. i'm watching, amused. i have a half-smile cracked on my face, and i'm trying to figure out what they're talking about. then i see one of the guys start pointing at his chin. now i'm starting to get a better idea of what they're talking about. they're almost blatantly talking about me! i'm listening attentively, but can't hardly hear anything more than a couple of words. they're speaking in english.

the girl waves at me! i wink back. the guy sitting to her right says, "he just winked at you!" i thought they were just having some fun or whatever, but now i realize that they're insulting me. i sure bet they didn't know that i could hear them. what's so funny about me!?!

some of them get up to go on the other side and have a smoke. then the others get up and start to mill around, her one of them. she's cute-ish, in a frumpy kind of way. glasses, her hair is pulled back in a pony tail and she has long bangs. her dress is black with a wide belt around her waist, the huge buckle in front. this is a semi-formal event. she goes to one table, and is laughing and talking with the people there. then to the table in front. then i hear, as clear as day, "i'm a little afraid of the strange guy outside." i chuckled to myself. i reached in my bag and pulled out my journal book. i scribbled out, "don't be afraid, i'm not scary. just american."

by the time i got done, most of the people were sitting again, getting their salad. i look up, but the freak show is over now. no one looks up and i can't get her attention. just in case, though, i scribble out a new message, "be nice. i'm not strange, just different."

the more i thought about it, the more ticked i got. i mean, how am i strange for sitting at the bank of the seine watching the water and enjoying a beer? don't get me wrong, i get the whole bald-headed, long goatee thing as unusual to clean cut, regular joes. but i didn't do anything to this woman or these people? they cut off my view!

unfortunately, i was never able to get her attention again, and they were called into a different room to conduct a business meeting. the guy said it would take an hour or an hour and a half, and it was already midnight. oh, well, my fun was over.

i walked back to the hostel, stopping for a kebab sandwich on the way. then, a refreshing shower and my day was over.

my last day in paris, my last day in europe.