Une marche très longue et quelques morts

First off, let me say that I’m pretty pleased with myself for having discovered Le Tribal Café.  I read about the bar online, and immediately added it to my ‘to-do’ list: it offered free couscous with a drink after 9pm.  And as I said in my last post, you say free food, I say I’m there.  But this story will come after!

Chrissy, Kelsey and I decided to explore Canal Saint Martin, which we had heard was beautiful and very Venice-like.  Armed with our cameras, we emerged from the metro station, ready to roll.  We didn’t see anything particularly beautiful at first, and in fact had to walk for about 10 minutes to get out of the seedy area we found ourselves in.  Eventually, we discovered the beauty everyone had been raving about.  Dozens of groups of dozens of people were lining the canal with sandwiches, baguettes, wine and cheese to enjoy the late afternoon sun.  Others were frolicking in the nearyby park, and still more were sitting outside of cafés and brasseries, enjoying a drink and a smoke.  We walked down the length of the canal, eventually making our way to Place de la Republique.  We found a cute little café, sat outside, and had a drink as the sun set.

Kelsey ended up heading home, but Chrissy and I wanted to continue our quest to obtain free couscous!  We had to walk through another slightly seedy area to get to our intended location.  Once we got to the bar, we snagged a table in the corner and ordered a couple of Coronas.  While waiting for our drinks, we looked around, and noticed there was no couscous on any of the tables.  I was starting to get a bit concerned…oh no, did I drag us through this awful area just for a couple of cheap drinks? Chrissy told me not to worry, that she had a feeling our couscous was on the way.  Sure enough, about half an hour later, a man came out with oodles of napkins, forks and knives, which could only mean one thing: COUSCOUS!  Chrissy referred to it as a “parade of couscous,” and within minutes we had steaming hot plates of flavorful couscous, chicken, and some spring vegetables sitting in front of us.  All for the mere price of a drink, which was an incredibly low 2.50 euro.  We enjoyed our food with a couple of drinks, and were eventually invited by a few friendly Frenchmen and Italians to play a drinking game with them.  It was so much fun, and such a great way to practice French in a stress-free, casual environment.  We spent a few hours at the bar, and we’re definitely planning on going back sooner than later!

On another note, I cannot believe that this crazy volcanic eruption is still interfering with travel plans everywhere!  I’m starting to realize how lucky I am being stuck in my own apartment in Paris, rather than in a hostel in another country.  I have a couple of friends stranded in Italy, I have a friend stranded alone in London, and I know countless people who are stuck in other countries and can’t finish the rest of the travels they had planned for their spring break.  As this one man puts it, I hate Iceland!  Except, I don’t really.  I just think the video is really amusing (thanks for sending it to me, Nadia).  I just hope that everything is cleared up by the time I’m scheduled to leave for Italy on Friday!

Anyway, today was quite an eventful day.  I edited and uploaded some more photos to Facebook…in the process of catching up!

After sitting inside all morning, I decided I needed to get out.  After looking through the list of things I want to do in Paris before I leave, I decided on Cimitière du Père Lachaise.  Since it was such a nice day out, I decided to walk there.  I put on my comfy Keds and set out with my camera.  After a solid 1 hour and 45 minutes of walking, I arrived at the cemetery.  I grabbed a map, and began circling all of the graves I wanted to see: Jim Morrison, Marcel Proust, Edith Piaf, Chopin, and Oscar Wilde were among the more popular ones I wanted to visit.  I began to walk up and down the cobblestone footpaths, taking in both the beauty and the unsettling feelings that are inherent in all cemeteries.

I found Jim Morrison’s grave okay, but struggled with nearly all of the others.  Glancing around me, I noticed that everyone else was armed with huge, color-coded maps that had clearly labeled grave locations.  I looked back at my dinky piece of cr- I mean, paper, and scowled: it was about one-fifth the size, and very poorly labeled.  I might have been able to just make out the names with a magnifying glass, but I think an electron microscope might have suited me better.  Frustrated, slightly cranky, and exhausted, I continued to stumble blindly around the gigantic cemetery to find the other graves I wanted to see.

It was pretty cool to see Edith Piaf’s grave, as I learned about her life in the movie La Vie en Rose, which I recommend.  I also loved Oscar Wilde’s grave; it was covered with lipstick kisses and fan messages.  Someone had even written je t’aime, Oscar.  I don’t know much about his life, but I do know I really enjoyed reading The Picture of Dorian Gray.

After several hours of walking, I gratefully sank into one of the metro seats for the journey home.  As soon as I got home, I collapsed into my bed and took a power nap…and here I am, recharged and ready to roll.  I think Simone, Kelsey & I are going down to Pub O’Prince for a couple of drinks before calling it a night…off I go!