The Impressionists and the Red-Light District

The last two days in Paris was, again, a strange mix of events.

There is nothing more iconically (yes, that is a real word) French than the Eiffel Tower, and there is nothing more iconically pop culture than knowing that the Moulin Rouge is not just a movie, but an actual cabaret in the Montmartre part of Paris.

Between the Eiffel Tower, the Musee d'Orsay, the Moulin Rouge and the Parisian red-light district, it was a lively tour of very different arenas of French culture.

You literally can't go to Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower from almost every part of the city. It is, by law, the tallest building in Paris. Unfortunately, the top level was closed. Again. I have been up the Eiffel Tower twice and both times the top was closed.

But it was still cool. It was super-hazy, but the view was still amazing.

It is not actually surrounded by parks. There are quite a few around it, but a major street, the Champs de Mars, runs literally right next to the tower.

Not surprisingly, I finished my Hemingway book in like three or four days. So, I picked up a book of F. Scott Fitzgerald short stories along the way. So even though I'm not in class, I am learning plenty.

Also, speaking of learning and culture, I went to the Musee d'Orsay while I was in Paris. It literally houses paintings that were inspired and painted outside just meters away on the banks of the Seine. There were so many Monet's and Manet's and Cezanne's and van Gogh's. It was incredible.

Now to jump to the red-light district. There is actually a logical link in this jump, as well. While Manet's famous Olympia painting depicts a prostitute, I walked in the area (in the morning, mind you, so it was pretty deserted) where the sex trade inhabits Paris. The famous red-light district. Also, prostitution is legal in France and a majority of Europe, but only eight countries regulate it. Just as a side note.

Anyway, I wanted to see the Moulin Rouge. I mean the movie is pretty famous. The red-light district really isn't bad, at least in the morning. There are sex shops on both sides of the street for blocks and blocks, but the Moulin Rouge is a pretty cool building.



Anyway, this whole Parisian adventure took place during the Iceland volcanic disaster. I mean honestly, you never hear about that country, but in the last year it has made international headlines for a complete economic breakdown and the volcano that disrupted air traffic in Europe, yet Iceland's airport could remain open. Very dodgy if you ask me.

Well, I was panicking because I thought my flight was going to be cancelled or severely delayed, and I had to finish up a paper and take an exam in a few days. So anyway, I was able to find one of the last tickets for the Eurostar from Paris to London. Thank god because, as I later found out, the Eurostar was booked solid for over a week. So I paid too much for a ticket home, but I did get to ride in first class with full meal service and unlimited drinks.

And I talked politics (American and British) with a British guy who was worse off than me. He had been in New York when the disaster epic proportions, aka Iceland, took place. He said he had to fly to Toronto, then fly to Rome, then train to Paris, then train to London to surprise his girlfriend, who thought he was still stuck in New York, for her birthday. So my inconvenience is slight compared to some, but still, stupid Iceland. And not to worry, more on British (and possibly American) politics in the near future. The British debates/election did just take place after all.

Anyway, I didn't let Iceland ruin the city of Paris for me. I love Paris. It will definitely be a city that I make multiple return trips to. I feel like no matter how many times a person goes to Paris, you see new things every time.

"There is never an ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. . . Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it." Hemingway's A Moveable Feast