An American Girl in Avignon

Thursday (Our last full day in Paris)
So, today was sadly our last day in Paris. In order to make the most of it, Rachel and I decided to fulfill our Phantom of the Opera fantasies by visiting the infamous Paris Opera House, the place where the legend originated, the book was based, and the movie was filmed. While the others caught up on sleep, we took the metro to the other side of town in the pouring rain, but man, was bearing the freezing cold worth it!
The Opera House was gorgeous. Halls filled with chandeliers dripping in gold and ceilings painted with artists’ masterpieces were located throughout. Our entrance cost of four euros was a small fee to pay, in my opinion, for our chat with the cute boy behind the desk whom we conveniently made up questions to ask…three times. The first thing we saw was the massive staircase from the movie, and being the nerd that I am, I immediately began humming the tune “Mascarade” under my breath. The theatre itself was chilling and a glance at the massive chandelier reminded me of the haunting music that the musical starts with as the chandelier swings overhead. Sadly, the basement was closed to the public, so no such luck with any phantom or moat sightings, but rumor has it that he and the moat are still there.
While waiting for the sleepy heads, we made our way to the Louvre to do some shopping and grab some coffee. We stepped into a swanky café for a single cup of joe, but were instead bombarded with an overly-friendly French waiter shoving the daily specials in our face. Just looking at the fancy décor, we knew we had stepped into a place way out of our price range. Feeling obligated to order something, we asked for the cheapest thing on the menu: coffee and yogurt. Pitiful yes, but beggars can’t be choosy. Our bill came to around 22 bucks for just that. I learned quickly that when in Paris, you will be broke and starve.
After our embarrassing and awkward time at the café (we were stared at by all the men at the bar), we left to do some browsing. Meandering around the Louvre led us into a couture gown shop where we met the designer to the stars...Zelia. Her business card reads “Créatrice de Robes de Rêve” which in English means “Creator of Dream Dresses.” This description is in no way an exaggeration. Her dresses were some of the most creative gowns I have ever seen. Each dress was thrown together in such a way that makes one think “How did you come up with that?!” She matches up fabrics and colors that one would think would never work, and yet, they do…quite well actually. She even let Rachel and I try on some of her dress capes (which were more expensive than our plane tickets…both ways). She told us how she went from being a poor country bumpkin to being an in-demand designer who parties with people like Bruce Willis. Her story was inspiring, and she told me if I wanted to be an international reporter, I should chase after my dreams and not let anything (including lack of confidence…especially with things like French) get in my way. I needed to hear that.
After that we met up with the others to go to the Louvre (and mange du chocolat sur la quene). Honestly, the only thing I wanted to see at the Louvre was the Mona Lisa; I really wanted to go to the Musée d’Orsay and see paintings by the Impressionist artists like Toulouse Lautrec, Monet, Renoir, Van Gough, and my favorite…Degas. After seeing the infamous Mona Lisa, which was tiny and behind glass, Kyle, Sakinah, and I ditched to go to the Orsay. We got off by the St. Germain and headed to the museum to see the impressionst art and sculptures by Rodin. This museum was so cool, and I wish we could have spent more time there, but it late…and it was closing.
That evening we left to go to Montmartre (yes, the shady area of Paris famous for prostitutes and the Moulin Rouge) to climb the billion stairs to the Sacre Coeur (we didn’t want to pay the fee for the lift because we are broke college students), but the climb was worth the beautiful view of Paris. We then went to Moulin Rouge (just to look) and were shocked by the amount of sex shops around! Up and down the street (I kid you not), there was nothing but restaurants, bars, peep shows, and sex shops. It was a little ridiculous and creepy. Needless to say, we left pretty quickly.
That night we returned to the Scottish pub one last time for some of that bon vin francais and were told the name of a competing rival Irish pub next to the discotheque we were going to that night. The bar owner told us to go up to the “rival” (all out of fun)Irish bar owner, Dave, and give him the finger from the Scottish bar for shots on the house. Well, we did it…and were rewarded for our efforts.
The discotheque near the Bastille was amazing. The DJ played American music, and a constant stream of smoke, neon lights, and flashing strobes added to the atmosphere. The bartenders even banged the covers of the hanging lamps over the bar like drum symbols for entertainment.
Although we wished we could have stayed longer, the metros closed at one, so we had to book it before they closed. Well, we were too late, and ended up getting lost several times on our way back. Remember that it was around 1:30 or 2 in the morning, and we weren’t in the best part of town. After wandering around for what seemed like hours, we found our hotel only to discover that we were locked out. This was bad. Thank God Adam was strong enough to break in, otherwise we would have slept on the street that night with the other bums who lived over the vents next to our hostel.
But the night didn’t end there. Sakinah insisted on brushing Kyle’s hair, so in order to save him some pain, I offered to let her French braid mine. I ended up getting my hair half yanked out of my head and looking like an electrocuted version of Pippy longstocking. Man, I love that girl though; there’s never a lack of entertainment when she is around.
Remembering that we had to get up and buy tickets for the train to Avignon the next morning, we all decided to attempt to go to bed that night (attempt being the key word). Ah, that next day was exhausting indeed.