Finally, a city so big it can't fit in one blog post. Day 2 in Paris dawns a little nippy and a little wet. The perfect kind of day for a bit of museum hopping. Assuming we ever get to the museum - it's easy to get sidetracked when every block has a new, or rather old, sight.
The inside-out Pompidou Center. Looks like Rock's shirt most mornings.
Mei gets up close and personal with the locals. Parlez vous anglais big guy? No? Parlez vous chinois? Hmmm, this could be a short conversation.
Clearly something was lost in translation. Come on man, we did come and bail you guys out twice in the same century. Yeah, yeah, I know you gave us a statue but that was ages ago.
After a while the churches all start blending together. Bit like J00ster posts really.
The mighty Louvre. You could spend a whole day in here and only see a fraction of it. Or you could spend half a day in here and see a fraction of a fraction, but still have time for a patisserie or two afterward. I think we all know the answer to that one.
It's a bit smaller than expected. Ah em, Mona Lisa we're talking about here folks. Rock puts his extensive art history training to use by expertly pointing out the extensive use of sfumato. Too bad it turns out to be a reflection in the glass. No wonder the scholarship examiners where unmoved.
You know you've seen one too many triptychs when the camera lens begins to wander back outside. Why look at that, it's cleared right up. Let's continue to feign interest 17th Century Dutch Masters for another half hour, and then hit the road. In the meantime, you can continue to feign interest in this blog.
The problem with putting art in rooms like this is that it's hard to work out where the wall ends and the artwork starts.
The J00ster Gallery doesn't seem to be attracting quite the same crowds as Leonardo's digs. In fact, the visitor count rivals that of this illustrious URL.
The steep hills and cobblestones of the bohemian Montmarte. Through the ages this little slice of Paris has been the haunt of artists, magicians, and performers, all seeking inspiration in the unlikely juxtaposition of narrow alleyways and sweeping vistas.
The real Moulin Rouge is just about as underwhelming as the movie that bears its name. A dingy nightclub living off a name and not much else.
As far as picnic spots go, I think we're onto a winner here. A crusty loaf with freshly sliced jamon and fromage tastes even better when the Basilica of the Sacré Cœur is looming majestically overhead.
Paris as far as the eye can see.
The final push. Sure there's a few steps, but does that really necessitate the construction of an elaborate Funicular, or cable car, to transport tourists to the top? What is this, America? Needless to say, Rock didn't see the value in swapping a few Euro for a 30 second ride.
The backstreets of Montmarte, away from the hubbub of tourists, give a fleeting glance of a world that measures time in centuries, not 24 hour news cycles.
So much for away from the hubbub of tourists. "Air conditioned" isn't exactly textbook French.
You can't go anywhere in Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower. Which makes things slow going seeing as Rock never misses an opportunity for another angle.
Montmarte comes alive as the sun begins to sink below the tiled rooftops. No wonder the artsy types set up shop here when they weren't busy chopping off their own body parts or checking in to the local lunatic asylum.
The secluded Place des Vosges, a perfectly symmetric square hidden from the bustle of the surrounding streets. It's a great place for relaxing. Or so Lonely Planet says - this being a J00ster holiday, the closest one gets to relaxing is the 45 second break to change camera batteries before marching out for the next destination. (Are you sure you're not getting yourself mixed up with twoPhat again? --ed.)
One never tires of Paris. Unless of course one is reading about it for the third time on a blog.
Sunset over the Seine. Or it would be if the sun would ever go down. One of the best features of springtime Paris is the fact the sun doesn't go down till after 10pm ever night. More daylight means more pictures, which means more bloggage, which means more filler comments.
Notre Dame at her most resplendent, bathed in golden light as the sun sinks towards the horizon. No wonder Monet set up shop here.
Guess what, it's food time again. Tonight's dining spot is a quaint bistro on the picturesque Île de la Cité, better known for being the island Notre Dame is perched on.
Bon appetit!
A fitting way to finish Paris on a high note. Assuming of course we take a bit of poetic license and conveniently forget the drive out of town tomorrow morning...
The inside-out Pompidou Center. Looks like Rock's shirt most mornings.
Mei gets up close and personal with the locals. Parlez vous anglais big guy? No? Parlez vous chinois? Hmmm, this could be a short conversation.
Clearly something was lost in translation. Come on man, we did come and bail you guys out twice in the same century. Yeah, yeah, I know you gave us a statue but that was ages ago.
After a while the churches all start blending together. Bit like J00ster posts really.
The mighty Louvre. You could spend a whole day in here and only see a fraction of it. Or you could spend half a day in here and see a fraction of a fraction, but still have time for a patisserie or two afterward. I think we all know the answer to that one.
It's a bit smaller than expected. Ah em, Mona Lisa we're talking about here folks. Rock puts his extensive art history training to use by expertly pointing out the extensive use of sfumato. Too bad it turns out to be a reflection in the glass. No wonder the scholarship examiners where unmoved.
You know you've seen one too many triptychs when the camera lens begins to wander back outside. Why look at that, it's cleared right up. Let's continue to feign interest 17th Century Dutch Masters for another half hour, and then hit the road. In the meantime, you can continue to feign interest in this blog.
The problem with putting art in rooms like this is that it's hard to work out where the wall ends and the artwork starts.
The J00ster Gallery doesn't seem to be attracting quite the same crowds as Leonardo's digs. In fact, the visitor count rivals that of this illustrious URL.
The steep hills and cobblestones of the bohemian Montmarte. Through the ages this little slice of Paris has been the haunt of artists, magicians, and performers, all seeking inspiration in the unlikely juxtaposition of narrow alleyways and sweeping vistas.
The real Moulin Rouge is just about as underwhelming as the movie that bears its name. A dingy nightclub living off a name and not much else.
As far as picnic spots go, I think we're onto a winner here. A crusty loaf with freshly sliced jamon and fromage tastes even better when the Basilica of the Sacré Cœur is looming majestically overhead.
Paris as far as the eye can see.
The final push. Sure there's a few steps, but does that really necessitate the construction of an elaborate Funicular, or cable car, to transport tourists to the top? What is this, America? Needless to say, Rock didn't see the value in swapping a few Euro for a 30 second ride.
The backstreets of Montmarte, away from the hubbub of tourists, give a fleeting glance of a world that measures time in centuries, not 24 hour news cycles.
So much for away from the hubbub of tourists. "Air conditioned" isn't exactly textbook French.
You can't go anywhere in Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower. Which makes things slow going seeing as Rock never misses an opportunity for another angle.
Montmarte comes alive as the sun begins to sink below the tiled rooftops. No wonder the artsy types set up shop here when they weren't busy chopping off their own body parts or checking in to the local lunatic asylum.
The secluded Place des Vosges, a perfectly symmetric square hidden from the bustle of the surrounding streets. It's a great place for relaxing. Or so Lonely Planet says - this being a J00ster holiday, the closest one gets to relaxing is the 45 second break to change camera batteries before marching out for the next destination. (Are you sure you're not getting yourself mixed up with twoPhat again? --ed.)
One never tires of Paris. Unless of course one is reading about it for the third time on a blog.
Sunset over the Seine. Or it would be if the sun would ever go down. One of the best features of springtime Paris is the fact the sun doesn't go down till after 10pm ever night. More daylight means more pictures, which means more bloggage, which means more filler comments.
Notre Dame at her most resplendent, bathed in golden light as the sun sinks towards the horizon. No wonder Monet set up shop here.
Guess what, it's food time again. Tonight's dining spot is a quaint bistro on the picturesque Île de la Cité, better known for being the island Notre Dame is perched on.
Bon appetit!
A fitting way to finish Paris on a high note. Assuming of course we take a bit of poetic license and conveniently forget the drive out of town tomorrow morning...
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