Sunday, September 15
I'm so tired, you guys.
I know i walked a lot on Friday, but it shouldn't take me two days to recover from that.
I don't know if it's aging, or having had Covid four times now, or just the grief and depression, which has been medically proven to destroy your body, or what. But ran four full marathons between 2022-23, and now i can barely stay awake for days after having a little adventure.
Yesterday was the halfway point of the trip, if i make it to full fruition. I can't believe i've made it this far. And i can't believe how much is yet laid out in front of me.
I couldn't find the energy to get moving this morning. This feels a little worse than it did in Berlin. I am once again seriously considering just going home.
Although the Sitges Festival finally announced their full lineup, and it's 363 films. I am. So excited. For that. I just need to make it another month. Perhaps this will be the large festival experience i was craving that i didn't get out of the last two.
I didn't leave the hostel until almost 2pm. I hadn't eaten. I don't know if the bar was actually serving food today or not, they had set out some semblance of what looked like a continental breakfast. I asked if it was included; i didn't think they had breakfast at all here, though yesterday i'd noticed some things in that spot right as they were cleaning them up. I managed to snag a croissant and a pain au chocolat before they were gone. But today's setup was ever so slightly more elaborate, including pizzas and some other hot dishes.
"It's brunch," the bartender said. This is on the schedule of hostel events for Sunday. "It's €24."
TWENTY-FOUR EUROS? Burn in Hell? No way, man. Yeah, it looks a little better than the breakfasts i've been charged €6 for at some of the previous hostels, but not by much. €8 or maybe €10. 24 though? Fuck off.
So it's 2pm and i'm ravenous again. I was walking vaguely in the direction of the train station, and i saw a cute café with outdoor seating and the menu on a big board. So i went for it. Lutèce Café.
I don't know why i keep ordering pizzas, expecting them to be a reasonable size for one person. Maybe because Duolingo keeps throwing me sentences like, "I ate a pizza for lunch," and it sounds totally normal to just eat a whole pizza by yourself. This is the third time i've done this, and it's once again like a 14 incher or so, and this is even thicker than the last one. And what the hell have i ordered? A smoked salmon pizza. I have never heard of such a thing. But i love salmon, i've eaten a lot of it on this trip, so i had to go ahead and do it.
I guess i was expecting chunks of salmon scattered around the pizza, like what you usually see from sausage or chicken on a pizza. But no, it was full, thin slices of salmon, like sheets of fish meat covering the entirety of the pie. Also, they don't slice the pizzas for you in France. This one or the previous one. They just give you a steak knife and let you have at it. So now i've got to cut through these deli slices of salmon, on top of a thick cheese pizza, and make it come out reasonably. I did okay.
Does salmon work on pizza?
Uh. Ehh. Not really. The salmon was good. The pizza was good. I do not feel like they complimented each other in any way. I don't think salmon goes well with anything this greasy. And with that much cheese on the pizza, you bet it was greasy.
I did, of course, eat the whole thing. Also of note, the pizza was €15. Compare that to the hostel's brunch.
I didn't plan to eat again today.
I couldn't come up with anything to do, so i thought i'd just take the train out to Forum des Halles, and maybe i'd check out some of the Atlas Obscura stuff nearby before my last movie of L'Étranger, at 5:45.
I also needed to do a bunch of Duolingo this afternoon if i was going to remain in the Diamond League, and complete my Friends Quest on time. Once i got to the mall, i headed up and out, and had a seat in that park over the theater. I was hoping the mall's wifi would extend there, either through the ground below, or from the open amphitheater nearby. It didn't. But at least my mobile data signal was strong, which has been far from guaranteed.
After i'd completed enough Duolingo lessons to not have to worry about it anymore, i started to page through the Atlas. I still felt extremely tired. Like i could have passed out right there on the park bench. Although if i had, i would definitely get robbed, first of all; there's no way i'd wake up and still have my camera, or other vulnerable objects.
I did eventually get off of that bench and wander into the cathedral right behind me, the aforementioned Église Saint-Eustache, which i'd confused for Notre Dame a few days ago. Because of the flying buttresses. Never forget the flying buttresses.
Apparently, somewhere within the church, there is a chapel dedicated to the pig butchers of Paris. That's not a euphemism or a reference to a battle or anything; literally, butchers who specialize in pork broke off from the rest of the Butchers Guild in 1476, so they could create their own union rules to protect the hygiene and control that pork, specifically, needs, separately from other types of meat. Over the ensuing centuries, the pork butchers formed into a powerful lobby, and, among other philanthropy, became major financial supporters of the long-running construction of the Église Saint-Eustache. Hence, they are now honored there with what is now called the Parisian Charcutier's Chapel, including a stained-glass window featuring the "Three Sausages and Swine" coat of arms.
When i first read the title of the Atlas Obscura article, "The Sausage Stained Glass," i read it as "Sausage-Stained Glass," like the glass is stained with sausage, not like it's a stained glass featuring sausages. Like, i thought there was glass in this church that someone had thrown a sausage at, and it left a mark. I maintained that perception throughout the first reading of the article. My brain.
The church is gorgeous, with that gothic style i expect from a European place of worship nowadays. The setup is quite different from other cathedrals, though; for the most part, the church is a single large room, with pillars throughout, not unusual, but the main entrance comes from the side, so the altar seems to be off to the right. I don't know if i'm explaining this well, because everything i write doesn't seem that unusual, all i know is that, standing in the building, it felt different.
Along the walls, all the way around the church, are several alcoves, each a chapel to something specific. Certain saints, other important individuals, a chapel for "the musicians." I walked around the church twice, but i couldn't find the one for the charcutiers. There was one corner which had a scaffolding in front of it, floor to ceiling, wrapped in opaque white plastic. After two orbits around the church, i felt pretty confident that the chapel i was looking for must be in that construction area.
Oh yeah, i didn't mention the ladder. When i walked in, the first thing i noticed is, on the wall opposite the main entrance, there's a neon sign of a ladder hanging in front of one of the giant Jesus paintings. It goes from about ten feet off the ground, all the way to the ceiling. This is the tallest cathedral in Paris. I can't even venture a guess how tall this neon ladder is. I'm assuming it represents a climb to Heaven or something but it's just such a strange piece. I kinda like it for that.
I went back outside, and tried to identify the alcove chapel that was behind the scaffolding from the outside. It's not very clear from the outside what each of these stained glass windows are supposed to be, but i zoomed in as far as i could with my camera on the one in question, and yeah. I'm pretty sure that looks like a pig. The pork butcher's chapel is definitely the one that's currently under construction. Disappointing.
Outside the church was a series of boards in a temporary display, showing pictures taken by French photographers in Los Angeles from the 1960s-90s, largely of the burgeoning punk, rap, and new wave scenes. These photos were provided through a partnership with the Los Angeles Public Library, a joint project for the Olympics. LA had been considered for the 2024 Olympics, before ceding them to Paris, and will instead host in 2028. So i imagine Paris will want to do something with them again in four years.
Many of these photos were previously unpublished and feature young fans dressed for their scenes, or breakdancing, or even some of the artists themselves, much younger than we're used to seeing them. In particular, an acne-covered teenage Mike D from the Beastie Boys really struck me. It's weird to think of these people as having been young once. Objectively, you know they must have been, but it's still weird.
The funniest one, to me, was a board with a large photo of a young Ice Cube and a little blurb about the early West Coast rap scene, when "album sales by artists such as Ice-T and NWA exploded." It then poses the question, "Do you know which Ice-T track caused controversy?"
I just. Oh my god. That is such a funny fucking way to bring that up. This is written like an educational pamphlet for fourth graders, and it's posted outside a church.
The answer is not written on the board, but for my non-Gen X or Millennial readers...
Cop Killer. The answer is Cop Killer.
...
It was after five, if barely, so i just went over to the theater.
I already suspected there was no way i was gonna make it through the entire movie awake.
Being as early as it was, i got a decent spot in line, with only maybe two dozen people ahead of me. The screens in this theater are much smaller than i'm used to, so i've been sitting very close. I got third row on this one.
I was seeing the 1922 silent film Nosferatu, with live musical accompaniment.
It was a wonderful experience.
I definitely did nod off a few times.
After the movie, i just wanted to go back to the hostel. I thought i'd probably just crash for a while, maybe get back up later and do a few things, but still go to bed early.
Then i realized, i'm supposed to be checking out tomorrow. I still haven't done several of the big things in Paris that i wanted to do. I'd originally planned to spend a week-ish here, but i'd only booked four nights at the hostel. I did it that way because, for one, i knew i wouldn't be able to get a refund, and i wanted to make sure i liked the hostel before i committed to spending an entire week there. And for two, i knew Paris was going to be emotional, i didn't know if i was just going to want to get the fuck out as soon as the films were over. Turns out i like the hostel, and my emotional state has been fine. If anything, i'm feeling better here than i have anywhere else. Maybe because of that wolf art just outside the hostel. I feel like i'm with her. Maybe for literally the first time since she died. I don't want to let go of that. Not yet.
Other than being so damn tired, this is fine.
I stopped at O'Tacos, which is inside the train station part of the Forum des Halles mall. I'd seen it two days ago. It's called O'Tacos, which suggests Irish-Mexican, but the sign says, "The Original French Taco." Which just raises more questions. So, even though i was still full of salmon pizza, i just had to know. I stopped in.
All the signs were in French only, and ordering required making several choices. There aren't any tacos you can just order. You have to choose each ingredient you want inside.
Fortunately, the ordering can be done on a large touchscreen. I was able to fumble my way through it with my rudimentary understanding of French, and pictures. There were some strange options. For meats (viandes), i selected Cordon Bleu and Falafel. For sauces, Hamburger and Samurai. I also added on caramelized onions. And i got a chocolate chip cookie.
Every single item was weird. First of all, i thought this would be two tacos, it was not. It was one...uh. Kinda more like a burrito, in that it was enclosed in a soft tortilla, but it wasn't burrito-shaped. It was more like an overstuffed meat Pop Tart. With both the cordon bleu and the falafel, and the hamburger and samurai sauces, all shoved in together.
Here it is. Here's the disgusting, greasy fast food i'd expected, but something wildly different from what i'm used to. It was not good. Maybe i just mixed some incompatible tastes, that don't belong in the same item together, but i don't even think the individual ingredients had quality. The cookie was also mid. I haven't eaten at Taco Bell in 12 years, but this gave me flashbacks.
And i can't even say it's cheap fast food. My total came out higher than Pomme de Pain yesterday, and that meal, while still cheaper-quality ingredients, actually had nutritional value.
All this food got so heavy in my stomach. I need to not do this again.
I got back to the hostel, and the desk clerk was on break. I went upstairs to drop off my camera and vest, and grab my laptop, intending to head back downstairs and write out my log. Instead, i flopped over on the bed and scrolled bullshit on my phone for a while, not wanting to move. I was a little afraid i'd fall asleep there. I was literally 40 steps shy of my step goal. It would be extremely fucking stupid to not get it today. I had to move at some point.
It was 9:30 by the time i made it down there. Desk clerk was still MIA. I sat down to write for a bit. Once i saw him return to the desk, i waited a few minutes, as not to ambush him immediately upon returning, and then made my move.
He was able to extend my stay two more days, no problem, although the price seems to have gone up. I noticed this when i paid for my initial check in; the price Hostelworld gave me per night was actually an average, every night was a different rate. For the next two days, it seems to have gone up significantly. Oh well, at least i don't need to move my stuff, he was able to put me in the same bunk.
"I have to ask," he said as he was reprogramming my keycard. "Is 'Trevor' a common name in the States?"
"Not really," i said. "It's not, like, rare or weird or anything, there's a few of us around, but it's not super common, no."
"Ok. Because the only Trevor i've ever heard of is from Grand Theft Auto."
"Haha, yeah," i said. Yeah, i know about Trevor Philips from GTA V.
"Is it related? Are you named because of the game?"
"Uh. No...no, i'm quite a bit older than the game," i said.
"Oh, haha, yeah, i hope so!" he laughed. "That wouldn't make sense."
I know i look young for my age, but um. That game came out in 2013. I am clearly older than eleven.
Okay, i've got two more days. I should probably figure out where i'm going from here, and find some trains, and see if i need to make reservations and print the tickets on paper again, for some reason. Plus now, i can take my time going to l'Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre, and maybe hunt down some Atlas Obscura stuff, because i have barely even glanced at that list yet. There's 201 items for Paris.
Also, the hostel has a skate shop, and offers skateboarding classes. That was part of the appeal of this place to me, i should see if i can do some of that, either tomorrow or Tuesday.
And then i'll figure out if i'm extending my stay again, or if i'm sticking this out for another month and what trains i should jump on next, or if i'm going home. I miss my dog.
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