As I mentioned, the trip from Lucerne to Paris was going to be a LONG one. We stopped for lunch somewhere in Southern France, where we stocked up on snacks for the road (1). The packaging was colorful, but the processed and preserved foods inside were not what our bodies needed. We couldn't wait to eat real food. While at the rest stop, I made one last call to the Imperial Hotel in London, hoping they had located my bear, which had been taken out with the laundry. No luck, they never found him.

During our long ride, Hans told us all about French history. I found it to be interesting, though a few of the details didn't sound right. I have since read Rule No. 5: No Sex on the Bus: Confessions of a Tour Leader, by Brian Thacker. Thacker, who had the same job as Hans (but for a different tour company) admitted to making things up all the time to tell his groups, and I'm pretty sure Hans was either making some of his information up, or simply getting his facts wrong.

We finally arrived in Paris, and once again we had a limited amount of time before we had to be downstairs for dinner, then a night tour of Paris, the City of Light, including a trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

By the time we got to Paris, we realized we had accumulated quite a bit of crap along the way. The two massive bags (4) from Venice were completely filled with new purchases. Thank goodness we had those for all of our additional souvenirs. We could barely get into our hotel room with all this luggage (5).

After dinner, which was pretty good, but not memorable, we began our night tour of Paris. Hans pointed out all sorts of highlights, including the Opera Theater, which is where the original Phantom of the Opera is said to have lived. We also drove through the Louvre (Contiki buses are not meant to fit between the narrow columns. But with the amazing skills of Reuben, the bus squeezed through unscathed.

We also saw Notre Dame at night, as well as lots of military monuments. Naturally, we circled the Arc de Triomphe, but more about that later. It's time to talk about the Eiffel Tower. We arrived at the Eiffel Tower just as the sun was setting, which was going to make for some awesome pictures.

As the new motivated photographer with a bad ass super compact digital camera AND a tripod, I was ready to go. I think most of the shots turned out pretty well. First we went to the very top, where we were simply too high up to see much. After wandering around for a bit, we went down to the second level where I got some great pictures. See for yourself (6), (7), (8).

I also wanted to get a great picture of the Eiffel Tower all lit up. Mikki thought I looked ridiculous trying to the the shot (9), but I think it paid off (10). Another advantage of the tripod is we could get as many people into a shot as we wanted, whether it be me, Simon and Mikki (11), Roshni and Kreena (12), all of us that were standing around (13), or just me and Mikki (14).

Day 15 • Friday, May 20, 2005 • Paris, France

Hans had offered us a ride into the heart of Paris on Friday morning to go to a perfumery demonstration. By this point both we had all worn thin the idea of demonstrations, and Hans didn't press the issue. On our way to the perfumery, we nearly died on the roundabout that circles the Arc de Triomphe (17). Well, maybe "died" is a bit dramatic, but it certainly was a crazy experience. Eight lanes of traffic, no lane markers, no traffic pattern, and if you die here, no insurance policy in the world will pay to fly your corpse home.

Thanks to this Parisian museum card we had bought (it is an optional on Contiki tours), and recommendations from Hans, we walked right past the very long line to get into the Louvre, through security, and were ready to see some of the great masterpieces. Our first stop though, was a landmark known only to those people who had read and finished The Da Vinci Code *SPOILER ALERT* As Robert Langdon figures out, the Holy Grail (Mary Magdalene) is hidden beneath the pictured pyramids (19).

Although it is said that Parisians hate the glass pyramids at the Louvre, I think they are pretty cool, and offer a different perspective of the Louvre's courtyard (20). We grabbed maps of the Louvre (Mikki got the last English map, and I attempted a German one) and set off to see some of the highlights.

The Louvre could be a vacation in itself, as it houses more artwork than any other museum in the world, and only 5% of it is on display. The Louvre was Louis XIV's home, and spans an incredible 1.2 miles in length. We weren't going to walk the full palace, but we would do the best we could.

Our first stop was Nike (Winged Victory) (21), which is hard to miss, as it is in the hallway on the way to practically anything. We followed the crowd and massive Mona Lisa signs to see the most famous lady (22) for ourselves. The signs for the Mona Lisa were significantly larger than the actual painting.

There was a huge crowd that wanted to see the Mona Lisa. Maybe because she's so famous, maybe because Dan Brown renewed the world's interest in Leonardo Da Vinci. Honestly though, I didn't see what all the fuss was about. The Mona Lisa is this tiny painting that is surrounded by amazing massive artworks (23), (24), and no one gave most of the other paintings in the room a second glance.

Ooh, ahh, move along. I also saw Da Vinci's "The Madonna of the Rocks" (also featured in The Da Vinci Code) , which was nearby. After checking the map, I searched for some other famous artwork that I'd like to see. Ooh, the "Seated Scribe", I had to see him.

We passed by a restoration area where restoration artists were working at repairing artwork (25). What a tedious and meticulous job. I can't imagine spending my work day figuring out which fragments of clay go into this pot, or which shards of glass fit into that mosaic. Although I'm anal, I'll pass on art restoration.

Over in the Egyptian section I found the "Seated Scribe" (26). I was amazed that he was in such great shape for being 3,000 years old. This probably sounds perverse, but even his extruding nipples were intact. Fortunately the Seated Scribe didn't have many visitors, so I could study him a little better than the Mona Lisa. The rule for her was move to the front of the line, take one photo and then get out of line. It was just me, Mikki, a few others and the Scribe.

We went through loads of rooms, got lost a few times, and finally located "Venus de Milo" (27). She was another high profile artwork, though a little out of the way. She's a great example of of Greek Classic sculpture. Venus de Milo's area was too crowded, so Mikki took a few snapshots, then left.

We headed into the gift shop where we could buy miniature replicas of plenty of the artwork, as well as beautiful coffee table books and postcards galore. I opted for the lightweight and inexpensive postcards of some of the most famous artwork I had seen first hand.

Standing outside the Louvre (28), (29) we figured out what our next stop would be. We still had plenty of time, but let's face it: Paris has TONS to see, and we only had one day to cram it all in.

We decided to head down to Notre Dame Cathedral. It was a pretty nice day (though a little overcast), and we walked along the Seine (30). Wow, the Louvre is long. Amazed at how long it had taken us to get to the end of the museum, I had to stop and take a bunch of pictures (using my tripod, of course) and paste them together to make one super long panoramic of the Louvre (all 1.2 miles of its length) (31).

Walking along the Seine (now on the opposite side of the Louvre), we came across dozens of street vendors, all selling artwork, postcards (some of them being what I can only describe as old fashioned pornography—lots and lots of naked women), and random souvenirs(32). Boy, these Parisians really love the tourists. Amazed at how cheap the posters were, we bought bought a few of the Moulin Rouge and the Eiffel Tower.

It started sprinkling, and I was glad we were almost at Notre Dame. I couldn't help but strike a Quasimodo pose in all my excitement (33). We ran into another group from our tour and we all walked over to Notre Dame together. Ryan and I got a picture together (34) out front (he was still using a film camera, and had gone through an ungodly number of rolls of film). I learned that film is very expensive in Europe in touristy areas because they know that you are going to buy the film no matter the cost. That's yet another reason to switch to digital.

Notre Dame has always been my favorite cathedral. I don't know if Disney has anything to do with it, but I really like the style of the façade, its understated artwork, and simple style compared to butt-ugly cathedrals like Milan's, which looks like there was a bet going between the designer and his wife about how many spires could possibly fit on one cathedral. Happy with Notre Dame from the outside (35), we went inside to explore.

One of the first things I noticed as we were walking up the nave toward the transept was a girl that had a JMU sweatshirt on. Although Notre Dame is still a sacred place and everyone whispers out of respect for those who are not tourists, I exclaimed (a little too loudly), "Hey, I went to JMU too!" I found out that she was taking a May session 100 level Humanities class that basically was a "Live in Paris for three weeks and see all the great artwork, architecture, monuments and history the city has to offer" class. Why had I not heard about this class when I was going there. I felt as if my college education was seriously lacking culture, in comparison with this girl's experience.

We wandered around, took in the beautiful stained glass, sculptures and amazing Rose window (36). Since it was so dark, I had trouble getting a good shot. I had to break out the tripod. While it was out, I took a picture of myself and Mikki in front of it (37). Am I just narcissistic or do other people want photographs of themselves in front of cool stuff on vacation, and don't trust others to take a good photo—especially in the digital age when a lot of people are still scared of digital cameras? Even idiot-proof cameras can take bad pictures thanks to some über photo idiots. And so the tripod is way better.

Okay, okay, I'll shut up about the stupid tripod already. At Notre Dame a donated a few euros, lit a candle and said a prayer (38). Then it was time for lunch.

We stopped at a café in the touristy area near Notre Dame (quiche: yummy). The food and service were good. I don't know why Americans think the French hate us? They were happy to have us come to their country and spend our money. We stopped in a few shops nearby looking for some items. Mikki finally relented and bought some new shoes to replace her Filipino $10 shoes that she had destroyed during the trip, and that that were all the rage and four times the price back in the States.

I really wanted to get a black t-shirt that said Paris and had a jeweled icon of the Eiffel Tower. I found some that had the Eiffel Tower replace the A in Paris, but nothing that quite matched what I wanted. Oh well, I guess it wasn't meant to be.

We walked back down the Seine, passing outdoor markets, greenhouses (39), and more poster and post card vendors. Our next stop was Musée d'Orsay (40), which used to be a train station, but is now a famous art museum filled with Impressionists' great masterpieces.

We saw Vincent Van Gogh's self portrait (41), his "Starry Night over Bridge" (42) which I thought was way prettier than his more famous "Starry Night", Renoir's "Bal du Moulin de la Galette" (43), which was very large, and Whistler's Mother (44), which was HUGE. I saw a few of Auguste Rodin's sculptures, which got me excited for Musée Rodin. Mikki was burnt out, so she headed back to the hotel for a nap. Meanwhile, I headed for Musée Rodin (45).

Musée Rodin was probably my favorite place in all of Paris. Auguste Rodin used to live in the converted hotel (as did several other artists, including Henri Matisse), and agreed to donate all of his sculptures to the State with the understanding that they would turn the chateau into a museum upon his death to showcase his work. Outside sat Rodin's best known sculpture, "The Thinker" (46).

After wandering the courtyard, I went inside, searching for "The Kiss" (48), which is my absolute favorite sculpture of all time. The thing was MASSIVE. It was probably seven feet tall, and weighed several tons. I didn't know tons about Rodin, but based on some of his other sculptures, including "The Hand of God" (47) and "Eternal Idol" (49), I wished I could have reproductions of all of his work. Well, maybe not the "Gates of Hell" (50). I happily bought a book of Rodin's artwork, along with post cards and a poster for my sister, before being kicked out (why must such a great place close at 5pm?). Now I just had to figure out how to get back to Montmarte where our hotel was. I located the closest Metro, and got a kick out of the "Thinker" replica in the subway station (51). The Metro was crowded (Friday night rush hour), but I finally got to my stop, and after a bit of wandering around, located the hotel.

Not able to figure out where the entrance was, I wandered down a driveway toward the parking garage (or so I thought). The door was locked, so I looked around for a way to open up the door (maybe by swiping my hotel room card). I found a card reader and fed my hotel room key into it. It didn't unlock the door, and worse, it ate my card. Oh merde.

I waited for someone to come out, and then I snuck in before the door locked. Once I was inside, I realized this building was not in any way attached to the hotel. I was in an office building's lobby. Not only that, but I was LOCKED in the office building's lobby. As I figured out, you not enter the building without the proper security card, nor could you leave without a security card. I'll admit I freaked out, hoping that somebody—anybody would come and let me out. How was I going to explain to a French office worker that I had mistakenly locked myself into the lobby? I could barely string a few words together in French to get by. I had no idea how I would explain this. Even if this had occurred in Germany, I wouldn't be able to explain what had happened.

Finally a janitor showed up and let me out. All I could say was a very grateful "Merci." I backtracked to the top of the driveway and reassessed my surroundings before figuring out that the hotel was up the hill and behind this office building. Once inside, I went straight to the concierge (who thankfully spoke English) and explained what a bonehead I was. He agreed to give me a new hotel room key, but he would have to change the code on our door, when meant I had to get a new key for Mikki as well. I'm sure that he snickered after I left, and thought, "Stupid American."

Happy that my little moronic episode was over, I went up to the room to pack for the last time and get ready for the Moulin Rouge. Crissy, Mikki, Becca, Zeeni, and I had bought tickets before we even departed the US for the later Moulin Rouge that didn't include dinner. Everyone else on our tour had to spend $200, whereas we only spent $130. I didn't think any dinner was worth $70, and from what I hear, I was right: the food wasn't bad, but the service was terrible.

We were supposed to meet up with Becca and Zeeni in front of our hotel at 7pm. They called shortly before that and said that had to run some errands, and they would be a little late. Leave it to them to be inconsiderate of everyone else's plans. And on top of that, what kind of errands does one do in a foreign country?

Crissy, Mikki and I waited in front of our hotel for half an hour before deciding to leave without Becca and Zeeni. We walked ten minutes before discovering that we were going the wrong way. While backtracking some obnoxious (and creepy) teenage guys started harassing us. I wanted Crissy to show them some of her bad ass NYPD moves, but she told us that in a situation like that our best bet was to walk away and only use force when necessary. It felt like forever, but the guys finally stopped following us. As we approached our hotel Becca and Zeeni showed up.

How nice of them to show up almost an hour late. It wasn't their fault, they swore. They were told the hotel was in a different part of town, not the ghetto. "We are staying in a really nice part of town. You should be careful here at night, it's dangerous." Their intentions were good, but after being late, and criticizing the hotel that we didn't pick, their advice came across as snobby. Becca wanted to get out of the ghetto as fast as possible, and offered to pay for a cab. Not that any cab would stop for us, or could fit five people. Finally a bus let us board without the necessary bus pass and gave us a ride to the front of the Moulin Rouge. Since it was around 8:30 and we had to be in line at 10pm for the 11pm show, we decided to find a restaurant nearby.

We found one that had very slow service (we didn't get our food until almost 10pm), and we swapped stories from our very different trips across Europe. Becca and Zeeni blew through thousands of dollars paying for trains, hotels, etc. and from the sounds of it, I think those of us that stuck with Contiki had a much better time.

After finishing up, we raced down to the Moulin Rouge (52) to get in line as it was getting close to 10:30. I really wanted a picture of Mikki and myself in front of the Moulin Rouge (53), but while we were trying to take it, evidently we did something to piss off some obnoxious guys, and they threw some glass bottles at us. None of them hit near us, but what the hell was wrong with these guys?

We got in line (and out of the angry French glass-throwing guys' sight) and waited as the previous show was letting out (54). We asked some of the Contikis what they thought, as they passed us on queue, and got mixed reviews. Ah, whatever, I was excited to see the show. I figured it was a once in a lifetime kind of thing.

Becca had to go to the bathroom and disappeared into a bar. Zeeni followed her shortly thereafter. Once again, they assumed we would wait for them. This was really starting to piss me off. I took a picture of the lobby as we filed in, and was told that no photographic equipment was allowed. They gave me a check-in ticket and took my camera, explaining I could get it after the show. I waited for Becca and Zeeni near the entrance, and when they finally showed up, they had stories about the bar next door and how odd it was, and blah blah blah. I don't know if it was a distraction method, hoping their story was distract me from being pissed off that they had left, or what. Either way, it didn't work. I told Becca she had to check in her camera since they weren't allowed. Instead of checking it, she decided she was going to video tape the entire show so that she could watch it later. We were seated (in the way back of the theater—or is it 'theatre' in France?), and popped open our complimentary bottle of champagne. Time to drink up and have a good time. The lights went down and the show started. Shortly into the show some security guards started wandering around the theater with mini flashlights looking for pirates. They spotted Becca's camcorder and took it, telling her she could get it after the show. I thought they were more than reasonable, but Becca started freaking out and left to get it. Naturally, they were not going to let Becca back in with her camcorder. Around this same time Zeeni left to check on Becca, and I left for a quick potty break. I didn't see Becca in the lobby, and I never saw Zeeni again. They had just ditched Mikki, Crissy and I in the middle of a show, and didn't have the courtesy to tell us they were leaving.

I tried hard not to let Becca's and Zeeni's severe lack of consideration ruin the night. After the show, I retrieved my camera, bought a program, and then the three of us went to the nearby Irish pub where the rest of the Contiki gang was partying.

We danced it up (55), (56), had a great last night with these people, who, two weeks earlier we didn't know from Adam. Now we had to say goodbye, which royally sucked...we were going to make the most of our remaining hours. Between the wine at dinner, the champagne at the show, and the mixed drinks at the pub, I was beyond tipsy. Someone had the bright idea that we should all walk home from the pub, but when you're drunk a long walk isn't a bad idea (as long as you're in a safe neighborhood and with a large group of people—one out of two ain't bad). We stopped somewhere to get drunken food. As I had run out of all cash, Simon bought me some kind of sandwich (the details are fuzzy), and I called him my Europe boyfriend, since my boyfriend was 3,000 miles away.

Before I knew it, we were back at the hotel. It was really late, and although I wanted to hang out later, I didn't have it in me. I went back to the hotel room and crashed.

Day 16 • Saturday, May 21, 2005 • Paris, France

Hans and Reuben offered those of us who were leaving from Charles De Gaulle Airport a ride, but we would have be on the bus (surprise surprise) really early. The bus was going to take us to the airport, then immediately head back to London. Although our flight didn't leave till after noon, we were not prepared to pay for a very expensive cab ride either. As we left the bus for the last time, I handed both Hans and Reuben their tip envelopes and apologized that there was no money in them. I promised to send them money when I got back, care of the Contiki Basement at the Royal National in London (the Contiki headquarters).

We said our goodbyes (first to the people that were staying on the bus, then to those that got off at the airport with us), and went to check in. After two weeks of lugging all of our possessions around, we were happy to check most of our luggage (with the exception of our travel pillows and backpacks). Ah, it felt so good to have our hands free. As we entered the international terminal we found two men (security guards?) that were checking passports. We asked if they could stamp our passports. They said they weren't supposed to, but with a little pleading, they agreed. Yay, another stamp!

With way too much time to spare (57) before our flight boarded we wandered around the shops in our terminal. I decided I better pick up some edible gifts for the family. I stocked up on Toblerone and Lindt chocolates, while Mikki stocked up on wine. The newsstand shop had some really neat postcards—I already had a stack of postcards, yet I somehow believed I needed more (58). These were black and white photographs of couples kissing all over Paris, which kind of goes with this huge framed poster in my bedroom (and the miniature "Kiss" replica). I thought I could make whole theme out of them. Did I ever do it? No.

Before we knew it, we had gone from having hardly anything to carry to having our arms full (59). And all in a matter of a half hour. In Mikki's haste to buy wine and leave the store, she left behind her copy of The Diary of Anne Frank. By the time she realized it was gone (while repacking her bag to fit the newly purchased items), it was too late. We went back to the gate and waited for our boarding time, amazed at how quickly we had accumulated tons of stuff between the two of us (60). Wow, we really needed help.

Becca and Zeeni finally showed up (carrying a shopping back full of Mikados—the "errand" Becca had to do the night before which caused them to be so late—she went to three different stores and bought their entire supplies of Mikados). They showed up like nothing was wrong. I asked why they disappeared the night before without telling anyone. Zeeni claimed she stuck her head in the bathroom and told me, but I never heard her. Becca then apologized for her behavior, but Mikki got mad at me for accepting their feeble apology. She told me that what they did was not okay, and I needed to stick up for myself. I'm a good person and don't deserve to be treated that way. I realized how right she was, and told Becca and Zeeni how horrible their behavior had been. I told them they had been inconsiderate from beginning to end. I was glad that we only had to deal with their spoiled inconsiderate behavior for a limited time. I can't imagine putting up with it for two weeks straight.

My mistake was inviting people along for a trip when I had never traveled with them before. Mikki and I got along famously, and Zeeni is good if you want to go to the beach and relax for a few days, but I had never been anywhere with Becca, and knew that I never wanted to ever again.

We boarded the plane to come home. Zeeni sat in first class, and Mikki sat by herself in front of me, and I sat with Becca. I didn't want to sit with her, but I knew Mikki would probably kill Becca if they had to sit side by side for 6+ hours. Besides, this gave Becca and I time to try and smooth things over (remember, she was dating my brother, so I wanted to have at least a minimal amount of rapport with her).

We landed around 3pm, went through customs, and although I had an amazing time in Europe, thanks in large part to the wonderful people I met in my tour group, I was very happy to be home.

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