the last day of the year, resigned to never seeing the sun to Barcelona, \u200b\u200bmy girlfriend and I went to visit the Eiffel Tower. We had had rain and snow. Now playing haze.
As we walked, we were besieging the hawkers with souvenirs of the visit. Unfortunately, there was no variety, or craft in memories. All shirts offered exactly the same with a tiny Eiffel Tower, probably manufactured in China, although very well done. I should have bought one.
me past the Orsay museum (or was it the Man?), Who say it is highly recommended, even more than the Louvre, but that will remain for another visit. From the terrace of the Palais de C, people watched the tower.
Below the tower, Palace gardens.
gardens and crossed the bridge and arrived at our destination. We found that there were about 400 meters from tail, two elevators (located in the tower legs) did not work, that was only one for climbing and one for down, and that at times rising from the plants had not higher. Is that the tower has three levels, and to buy the promotion you have to choose if one is to go to the first floor only, or only the top two.
is difficult to appreciate the scale of construction in a photo, but it really impressed by his height. I think it is also the tallest building in Paris and its dome is a broadcast antenna. On clear days, it can be seen from people that are tens of kilometers away. At night, a blue light rotates 360 degrees to illuminate the distance.
This was the view of the tower from the tail, about two hours before finally gaining entry.
Expect those two hours, two hours, was the most painful moment of the whole stay in Paris. Were below zero, by the river, with fog and wind, almost static, and poorly clothed. It was a bit eager to mourn, or to begin to kill the French, I do not know. Jump on the site, or go stopping at one foot and then on the other, helped by a little to prevent gangrene. I was so disgusted with a look I had a cast, he was a cabinet that weighed twice as much as I repent and leave the row. He would hit for less, and that I am not violent. But talk of the Parisian atmosphere of hostility.
I do not know, at least they could make the tail out in a spiral, and surrounded by tapes, so there is a little more warmth and so that no leakage. Just when we were to pay, enabling access to the upper floors, which until then had been closed by frost, so we piled into the elevator, which gives a little dizzy.
We quickly the first floor without stopping ...
I would not be a mechanic of the tower. Think that much of the built in winter, eating boiled potatoes ... As the saying goes, "there is nothing you can not get to have imagination, determination, and an unlimited amount of cheap labor."
Parisian roofs are one of the things I liked about the city. They say that in World War II, the city surrendered quickly to avoid being bombed.
Some more views from the second floor ...
was still up something like half.
After eating something light, we climb to the top of the tower. The fog was intense, and the metal dripped moisture, the wind threw the poor unfortunates who were still queuing.
The Parc du Champ de Mars:
After a couple of hours visiting the tower, got out and walked quickly to try to recover some heat. Yes, the focus of this visit is the cold. We got into the first restaurant we could find warm, but could not smoke.
was already night, and were something like 5 or 6 pm. This church I liked:
end of the year was, so we joined my cousin and went to dinner at an excellent Italian restaurant, until we be in 2009. Took a tour of the Barrio Latino:
After a drink in a bar, back to the hotel. The subway was free to lead people to avoid drunk, which I think is a very smart. Paris seems like drunkenness that lasts long, the next day also travel free, although we found out and the machine will gladly accept our tickets.
On the morning of January first went to the Louvre, but was closed so we got on the subway and got on Montmartre, where the Basilica of Sacre Coeur .
few minutes later my cousin came Lautaro, a champion among champions:
entered to see a bit what was inside the basilica.
Montmartre has a reputation as an artists' quarter. Probably is not, but the seats are full of artists trying to sell their works, some of them very interesting.
ate in a typical restaurant in the neighborhood. For typical Montmartre means a pleasant place, with live piano and tables so close together that it is impossible to open minimally elbows to eat. I could not convince my cousin to play something on the piano, but instead discovered mustard, a distinctively French mustard is very strong and you are not from the mouth at times.
walk through a neighborhood Moors. Our goal was to get to the bar in front of the Pompidou remembered with a tear in the eye radiators and ashtrays. Covered with a scarf to his nose, passed by the Moulin Rouge .
Another landmark of the city of lights, the Galleries Lafayette (same as in Mar del Plata):
After a dose of heat and snuff, we got kicked out again the bar, so we went back to the hotel.
The last day is dedicated to Louvre, where we arrived just before doubling his long tail. In the center, the controversy glass pyramid, which in turn almost triggered a political crisis in France which is central The Da Vinci Code. Works as input: the lockers are just below.
The museum is too big to cross it on a good day. So, like good tourists, we decided to go see the Mona Lisa and some other famous works of art. In fact, the Mona Lisa is the big hit , while there are many guards whose sole job is to get people to circulate. It proved impossible to take a picture front. In fact, as is the only painting under glass that reflects, and the minimum distance was several feet, it not only can well appreciate, but actually it can not even see.
Here you can see people matted to view it (the painting is right, out of frame). The only person who won was a lady in a wheelchair, which left her close to the side.
A painting rather macabre:
The Virgin of the Rocks , another painting of the book by Dan Brown. It's a little lost among others, and that no one looked, and I'm sure most of you wanted to see, if only by the book.
The Church of the Living Dead (and a little metal, too):
As Kundera says, smiling children in painting are always evil. Czech author explains that this is because before it was considered that when someone laughs, stop thinking and not thinking is the gateway to the devil. They are also curious woman's breasts (the shoulder pads have). I think that the painter had never seen a tit in his life.
This was one of the paintings that I liked most about the exhibition. It sounds like Rembrandt. I think it shows the ruins of a pagan temple, those who torn down across Europe to put a church on top.
And with that ends the visit to the Louvre. The truth is that I did not like too much as a museum. Although it may be due to fatigue and hunger, I just criticize the museum is governed more by the principle of accumulation by a strictly aesthetic. There is huge room with a table identical to another. For example, there are three huge rooms dedicated to painting of the nineteenth century France (or was it England?). All paintings are religious, and all of them is an important character painted in France almost fluorescent blue that has nothing to do with the rest of the colors used. And a glance at dozens of artists and all with the same artistic principles. With half room enough. Certainly have better pictures in the tank. It is also noticeable lack of English writers, have only lost a couple of tables in a corner. Of course, I discovered some spectacular pictures did not know at all. But I think there's too much chaff and little wheat.
And because the views are questionable, I'll finish the post about my visit to Paris discussing one of the things that caught my attention. We all saw on TV the incidents in the Paris suburbs, with thousands of cars burned several years ago. The suburbs, real commieblocks clearly speak lack of integration and to discrimination. This is also noticeable in other cities such as Amsterdam and Brussels, for example.
But in Paris there was something different, palpable in the looks, the way you walk, and a lack of civility. There was resentment, was aggressive, he looks defiant, like someone looking for a fight. In any European city had been so hostile general (and I have felt again since, and I even caught a bit during my visit). I do not know what the faults in French society, they say is that the first-generation Muslim immigrants meekly accepted have fewer rights than the natives, while the second generation, the current does not accept the situation. Maybe. But soon, I found a company with some problems. While walking through the streets, I thought that if the relationship between hostility and burned cars were proportional in Argentina would all bike. In any case, again, I still like living in Barcelona.
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