Paris: Part 3

Sorry I'm being so slow with these Paris posts, but as I said before: I'm busy. Graduate school application crap. Writing. Work. Planning trips (my next one is to Pisa/Florence mid-February). The only thing I'm finished is editing Tristina's manuscript. Go me!

Anyway, my third day in Paris I went outside the city to Versailles. It was really effing cold that day, and the place was PACKED with tourists. It was interesting to see all of that stuff, but the tourists...well, they ruin everything. It's like: "Get out of my way! Stop milling around like idiots." Then you realize you're also a tourist, and it makes you hate the whole situation even more, because no one really enjoys being an idiot tourist--especially if you've lived in Hawaii and New York City...
However, I had to go to Versailles and risk being touristic, because I've always been fanatically interested in the French Revolution. So, I bit back my pride and went for it.
It was interesting...ish.

The front of the Palace

Hall of Mirrors. Packed.

Me. In the mirrors. Oo la la. Note, sexy leather jacket and hiking boots. I look like i just stepped off a motorcycle.

I didn't learn anything I didn't already know, BUT I kept running into this cute French guy. Every time we caught sight of each other in a new room it was all ogling and secret smiles. Then I lost him in the Napoleon room, and I figured I wouldn't see him again. But after I'd seen it all, just before I left the main palace, I decided to hit up this side exhibition--where they decorated a few rooms in very modern styles, mixed with old paintings and whatnot, BAM there he was again, and I almost had a giggle fit because it was kind of hilarious.

The cute French guy is the one on the very right hand corner.

The rest of the time I spent outside, half freezing to death, staring at the lifeless gardens. Okay, they had some life, but I bet they're a lot prettier, and about a thousand times less depressing, in the spring.

That night I decided to hit up the Eiffel Tower, because I figured I would just go all out touristy that day.

When I got off the metro, and turned the corner, this was the sight I was graced with: a glittering tower. It glitters every hour at night. So perdy.

After waiting just about an hour, I finally got to the elevators that bring you to the very tippy top of the tower, and then it took another fifteen minutes, but I got to the top, eventually--only to be graced with bitter, sharp wind. So cold and harsh.
What a view though.

The Seine. The Champs-Elysee. Louvre. Etc...etc...

Moi. At the top. BRRRRRR. Note, headphones. Always with the headphones. They are my companion when I'm alone.

After I came down, I walked a bit to a get a good snap shot of just the tower. Tragically, both my cameras hate shooting at night so the best I've got is this:

No picture can capture the actual feeling of standing in the presence of this thing. Seriously. It's aggravating.

Afterwards, I walked to the Christmas Market again, for German sausages, hot wine, and crepes--all for under 15 euros total. A perfect dinner.