Day 35: Paris

Tuesday, September 17

The Louvre and/or Notre Dame. Those were the plans today.
    I don't know. I've been dragging my feet on both. I'm not super interested in Notre Dame; i kinda wanted to do the towers, since we hadn't been able to last time, but i'm not sure if they're even open at this time. There's scaffolding and cranes still around the building, they're clearly not done with the renovation since the fire. How many years ago was that now?
    And the Louvre. I don't know. I think i said before, i'm kind of done with museums unless they're super specific and very cool.
    I've been to both before, although we didn't get the full experience of either.
    Let's have a look at that Atlas Obscura list, finally. I should've done this days ago.
    I came to Paris with the intent of reliving some core memories i had with Amanda. And i did that; i did the Eiffel Tower at sunset, i did l'Arc de Triomphe and got the photo with the Eiffel Tower in the background; i did Père-Lachaise; i did Pont des Arts.
    Maybe part of the reason i've had so much trouble doing things these last few days is because i am bogged down by memory.
    Maybe i should form new memories, my own memories, of Paris. Something of my own. So it's not just another reminder of a past that i can't return to. Form some fresh neural pathways.
    La Petite Ceinture, "The Little Belt," was a railway around Paris, built in 1852 and abandoned in 1934, after the underground Metro made it obsolete.
    Though the rails and other infrastructure were left intact, most of it has since become overgrown, with botanists documenting over 200 species of flora now growing in the defunct railway. In 2008, part of it was opened as a nature trail; since then, a few other sections have been converted to public parks.
    And the pictures on Atlas Obscura look cool as hell.
    Atlas Obscura articles always include GPS coordinates to the item in question. The coordinates on this article lead to a bit of the railway over near the Eiffel Tower, although the article mentions that, "A good way to see some old train stations is to enter via Villa du Bel Air and exit at the old Gare de Charonne before the tunnel." Let's see, where are those points...
    Oh. Gare de Charonne is...really close to my hostel. Villa du Bel Air is like a 15 minute walk beyond that. I guess i'll just walk over there?
    On the way, i stopped at a boulangerie for some brunch.
    AND I HAD A FULL CONVERSATION WITH THE CLERK IN FRENCH!!
    I was able to order a cheese quiche and a chocolate éclair, with the two of us conversing in French the whole time!
    She totally clocked me though, at the end, as she handed me the receipt, she said, "Thank you."
    Still. Progress!
    I made my way to Jadrin de la Gare de Charonne, found a park bench, and sat down to throw the bakery bounty into my mouth. Seven birds bounced around at my feet, just waiting for me to drop something.
    It was a cloudy morning, and as i ate, the wind picked up. It became quite chilly. I was happy that i had brought my jacket sleeves. As soon as i finished eating, i zipped them on. I headed deeper into the park, toward where i thought La Petite Ceinture picked up. I rounded that corner and...it was just another little playground area. The path curved back around, and sent me to where i'd come from.
    I pulled up the map. Okay...outside the park, between the two sides of the boulevard i'd walked in on, it looks like there's train tracks, within the green space that usually denotes parks. That must be it.
    I left the park, only to find that the tracks down the center of the boulevard are, in fact, a presently-operating commuter train, complete with a very active stop right there on the corner.
    I checked the map again. There were, in fact, another set of train tracks running against the opposite side of the park. So i headed back in, took a different turn, wound along a wooded path for a bit where i couldn't see outside of the park...and was rewarded by coming to a chain-link fence with a gate and a sign reading "La Petite Ceinture Paris," along with blurbs written only in French, which presumably give the historical context.
    Success!
    I passed through the gate. This is definitely one of the new park sections. There's carefully cultivated greenery all around, plus benches, and a well-defined trail to walk down, which clearly contains railroad tracks encased in the asphalt.
    I checked the map. Villa du Bel Air was to my left, so i went that way.
    Alongside the paved-over-tracks path was a second set of train tracks, left open, which many flowers were growing through. It was beautiful, like seeing nature reclaim human infrastructure. Like seeing a post-apocalyptic dream coming true.

    I made it about 500 meters before i came to a tall metal fence with a locked gate.
    Oh.
    Beyond the fence, everything was clearly overgrown and not maintained.
    Usually, if something is *technically* not accessible to the public and *technically* illegal, Atlas Obscura will tell you that. La Petite Ceinture's article gives no indication of this. It does say, "some sections are not safe, thus it’s better to walk with a company," but at no point does it say it's prohibited to enter. I just thought this would become an "at your own risk" situation. Particularly once i got to the tunnels and old stations, where the Atlas says, "If you plan to walk through any of the tunnels be warned they can be very long, quickly become completely dark, and are full of rats. You will need an extremely powerful flashlight to see where you are going and what you're walking on. It can become very rough underfoot and your phone light simply will not do!"
    Again, no indication that this is illegal.
    Remember that time that i attempted to break into an abandoned UNESCO heritage site?
    This fence is definitely scalable. It's not even chain link, it's a simple square grid, and if i stand on the embankment to the side of the train tracks, it's only like eight feet i'd need to climb. There's not even barbed wire, the top of the fence is totally flat.
    Ugghh.
    No, i didn't do it.
    It was seriously considered, but in the end, i just turned back.
    I passed the point where i'd entered, and continued down the track in the other direction. This one came to the same type of fence and gate within like 100 meters.
    But that end did have an opening off to my right into a different park than i'd started at.
    This one had a super cute kid's playground shaped like an owl.
    Alright. Atlas Obscura also says there's "easy access" at Porte de Vincennes. That's not far from here. I'll walk that way.
    Absolutely not. When i reached the intersection of Porte de Vincennes and La Petite Ceinture, i found that at this point, the railway is elevated, a bit more than a story above the street. There are clearly stairways leading up to the railroad bridge, but on both sides of the street, they are blocked by full metal walls with "INTERDIT" (Forbidden) signs. You can't even see through these walls, they're not fences.
    I guess i could try walking all the way down to Villa du Bel Air, and see if i can get on the railway from there? It's not that far from Porte de Vincennes.
    I got to where the old Villa du Bel Air station was supposed to be, and the railway was still elevated. A police van pulled up into the intersection about the same time as i walked in, so even *IF I WAS* tempted to scale the thing, which didn't look too difficult here, i was being passively observed.
    I kept walking.
    I got to the next corner, which was labeled "Villa du Bel Air," and started recording a video about how i was in the spot where i thought i could access the railway, but there was nothing here, when i suddenly saw a sign across the street that said, "Petite Ceinture Access - 400m" with an arrow goading me to continue on my trajectory.
    Alright. 400 more meters isn't that much.
    I got to the entry, and found something much closer to what i was hoping for. This stretch of the Petite Ceinture was more wooded, more natural. I went right at first, knowing full well that i wouldn't get far - i just wanted to see how far i could go.
    It was about 400 meters, back to about where i'd seen that sign.
    So obviously i doubled back - there was no other option. And i headed down La Petite Ceinture.
    And i just kept walking. This was truly what i wanted to do with my day.
    I wrote before, in the Helsinki days, about how my original vision for this trip had included much more hiking, and getting out of the cities, and i just have not done that. Largely because it's difficult to get to most of the incredible Instagram-reel-worthy trails without a car, and because those kind of trips would have required me to do much more planning ahead of time. But i found those cliffs in Helsinki, and it truly filled my soul with the things i had hoped to find in Europe. This abandoned railway was, in a much smaller way, doing that for me now.

    I made it almost two miles before i ran into another locked gate.
    I had the Insta360 slung over my shoulder and recording when i reached this one. It was across the bottom of a bridge. The original railway signals, the stop and go lights, were still hung up on a bar just before the bridge. I thought that was nice.
    The lock on this gate had clearly been cut. It was partially open. I could see another gate on the other side of the bridge, which i assumed was probably also unlocked.
    The entire space under the bridge was a homeless encampment.
    I turned around. It seemed both disrespectful and dangerous to tromp into a homeless encampment, uninvited, with recording gear. I wondered if i could find my way around, and pop back down onto the tracks on the other side of the gate.
    At the previous bridge over La Petite Ceinture, maybe 200 meters back, there were benches installed underneath. I remembered this bridge well, because there was a Bolt electric bicycle that someone had ditched there, and also a cute fox graffiti that i'd sent a picture of to Alyssa, plus stairs back up to the street. I sat down on a bench to consult my map.

    I also considered that, i've walked a few miles of this abandoned railway now, perhaps i could go do something else. Or i could take a train over to the Eiffel Tower and jump into that section! Or i could do something else.
    So far, i had really enjoyed trekking down this path, although i still hadn't seen anything as cool as the photos on Atlas Obscura. If i hunted down another section, i still couldn't be guaranteed to find that. This whole railway is like 30 or more kilometers, hitting the outside edges of every arrondissement from 12 through 20, and the photos don't say which section they were taken in. At this point, though, i'm betting an illegal one. Maybe these fences are newer than the Atlas Obscura article.
    I couldn't get the Atlas Obscura map to load. The thing is a difficult to use, unintuitive, piece of shit anyway. My mobile data connection just wasn't very strong out here.
    As i sat there, poking away at my phone, i saw some rats start coming out and running across the walkways. Maybe i'd been still too long. They're cute and all, but i don't really want them getting too close.
    Then two men came down the stairs from the street, speaking French to each other. They grabbed the Bolt bicycle, stood it upright, and kept talking. I thought i'd wait them out, but they weren't moving, just talking, and i was well past ready to go. I stood and started making toward the stairs.
    One of them said something to me in French.
    "Non," i said, shrugging.
    "Ehh, you don't speak French, do you?"
    "Not very well," i replied.
    "Ahh, it's just a joke!" the other said, though neither told me what the joke was.
    I did wonder if they were asking if i'd been the one to leave that bike there. For a refresher, Bolt is one of the European companies that does car, bike, and scooter sharing - like the Lime or Bird scooters and bikes in America, but with cars also. Trinn and i used a Bolt car in Estonia once.
    I was headed toward the Ancienne Gare Frigorifique de Paris Bercy - the old Bercy train station. I'd noted on the map that the other side of that closed-off bridge appeared to have active tracks, and the current Gare de Bercy was right there. But the Old Bercy Station - that was marked on the map as a tourist destination! Perhaps i hadn't been able to find any abandoned train stations on the Petite Ceinture myself, but this one might be legally open!
    I went up the stairs the two men had come from, turned left, and continued down the street, parallel to the Petite Ceinture. I came to the bridge, and started crossing it. I stopped halfway, looking down on the tracks where i'd come from, and out toward the spot where i'd sat on that bench. The Bolt bike was still there, standing up, but the two men were gone. Huh.
    Crossing the bridge, i found myself on another bridge, this one perpendicular. I was able to look down and see the gate on the other side of the homeless encampment, and i had been wrong - this one was still locked. I was also wrong about the active tracks - they were below the Petite Ceinture tracks. A train zipped through underneath them as i watched.
    There was an abandoned building right there, which i wondered at first if it might be the old Gare de Bercy. Looking at it from this second bridge, it seemed like the gate to the stairwell was open. I walked back to it to investigate, and again i was wrong. There was a metal door across the opening where that gate must have originally closed, which was locked. The open gate i'd noted from the bridge has the handrail run right through it, so it won't close anyway.
    How the hell did this get built this way? This can't be the original construction.
    To my journey, it didn't matter. Checking the map again, Old Gare de Bercy was actually still quite a long way away. I kept walking, crossing that entire second bridge, and continuing down the path.
    Partway down the bridge, i encountered a strange construction fence, which i could see through in the direction i was walking, but if i looked back, i could not. I was barely able to see below me, through this odd fence, but i could see that the old Petite Ceinture tracks and part of the bridge over the current tracks had been demolished. Construction equipment was sitting at the end of it. So this happened recently, and they're currently reformatting the way these tracks are laid.
    La Petite Ceinture's tracks picked up again not long after; they've only destroyed a tiny portion of the old bridge and tracks.
    It was like a kilometer between the old building that i thought might be the original Gare de Bercy, and the building that was actually the old Gare de Bercy.
    It was surrounded in tall fences and inaccessible to the public.
    There was an entrance in the fence from the main road, though, which led past the old Gare de Bercy, and through an industrial district, kind of like a chain-link tunnel. With no other objectives at the moment, i followed that tunnel to see where it would lead. I passed by many industrial buildings and warehouses before coming to a metal staircase, which brought me three stories down to the current street level, descending past some ancient ruins. I wondered if they might have been part of the old railway system, or an aqueduct, or something. I have no idea. They're all fenced off now.
    I came to the next street corner, and leaned up against a wall for a minute, to figure out my next move.
    Still couldn't get Atlas Obscura to load.
    I was just poking around at various listed Attractions on Google Maps, when i found that the remains of the Bastille were about a 45 minute walk away.
    Huh. That's kind of cool.
    OH FUCK writing this just reminded me that i MISSED SOMETHING IMPORTANT. SHIT.
    Uh. Put a pin in that, i guess.
    On the way to the Bastille, i got distracted by a cool bridge. I crossed the Seine for no reason other than to take this cool bridge, and then i crossed back at the next bridge. It should be noted that the second of these bridges was called Pont de Bercy.
    I wonder who Bercy was, and why so many things around here are named after them. I was pretty far from both the current and old Bercy gares by this point.
    Despite the way my GPS was trying to lead me down streets, i was trying to stay close to the Seine, because i would much rather walk by the water than through just some random city streets. This did not turn out to be to my advantage, though; after i passed another bridge, i eschewed the ramp back up to the street, and instead slipped through a narrow passage toward another path that went along the river. The path quickly became very narrow, with a tall wall on my right, and a sheer drop straight into the water on my left. The path was maybe four feet wide, and right in the center, short pylons every ten feet or so, some of which were actively being used to tether boats with that thick rope boats are known for.
    Did that sentence make sense? I'm sorry, i've been indulging in the local beverages while writing this, and now i'm second guessing my words.

    I'm gonna be honest, i keep being tempted to slip French words in there, when i know them. Indulging in the local boissons. Second guessing my mots.
    I passed under yet another bridge, which had carvings of faces making strange expressions on it. I thought these faces looked familiar; i was pretty sure i'd stumbled into another Atlas Obscura item without intending to. Although, looking at the article now, no, this is a completely different bridge with oddly-expressive faces on the bottom.
    Not long after that, i came to a metal barrier, which bore an orange "Interdit" sign.
    Fucking hell. I've walked this far, i'm not turning around. There's enough space to slip past this barrier on either side without much effort. So i did.
    And then i came to a metal gate.
    There was an alcove in the brick wall to my right. For a second, i hoped it might be a tunnel up to the road.
    It was not. It was also gated and locked.
    I'd discovered a police boat launch.
    I had no choice. I turned around and walked all the way back down that narrow path with the sheer drop to the river, until i came to the last split where a ramp led up to street level. It was about a quarter mile. So that's a half mile of redundant walking.
    Now i had to walk down an active bike path alongside a busy road to continue toward the Bastille. This bike path dipped well below the brick wall i'd seen from the other side. So low, in fact, that the expressive faces on that bridge couldn't even be seen over it from this side. So you'd only see them if you were heading to the police boat launch.
    That's the kind of thing that deserves to be on Atlas Obscura.
    When i did finally make it to the remains of the Bastille...it was a playground. It was absolutely teeming with loud children, running around, climbing on equipment specifically made for them to do that, you know, as children do.
    The ruins of the Bastille itself are behind a fence, tucked into a small corner of the children's park. There's also a prefab metal shed in there, but it's all behind a gate that indicates it's for authorized personnel only.

    On the one side of the gate, there's just a tiny rounded corner of the foundation of the Bastille left, maybe four feet tall, at most. I grabbed a selfie with it, and then walked to the other corner. An eight-year-old boy followed me, which was confusing. On the other side, i could see nothing. I walked back to the first corner. The boy followed me halfway, then returned to the playground.
    This is literally it. One tiny corner of the foundation, that's all that's left of the Bastille.
    As it should be, i guess.
    It's a little weird that most of the grounds previously occupied by one of the most famous political prisons in the world is now a Jungle Gym, but maybe that's for the best.
    I left the park, before any other children could latch onto this blue-haired weirdo that their parents were undoubtedly eyeing questioningly. Just outside the park, i found a nondescript plaque that positively identified the area as the former grounds of the Bastille. From inside the park, there's nothing to confirm. I'm glad that that is where i actually was, i was worried for a few minutes there.
    My mobile data was still crawling, so i checked for open wifi in the area. The restaurant across the street actually had an open network, and i was able to log in, so i crossed to be closer to it while i mapped out my next few moves.
    I had four Atlas Obscura sites nearby that i could make pretty easily, so i plotted a course, and set off on my way.
    I soon crossed over a bridge, and down the river, there was a full view of the Colonne de Juillet, towering over its little section of the city. This is a monument to the Three Glorious Days of one of the earlier French revolutions. Amanda and i had visited it accidentally in 2013. I could have easily bopped over there for a quick photo op and a reminisce; but since i had actively decided to do new things today, i ended up skipping it.
    Rue Crémieux is described as "the most Instagrammable street in Paris, much to the residents' annoyance." It's a short residential street, about the length of a standard city block, filled with wall-to-attached-wall houses in that very distinctive French style. Each is painted a different, vibrant color; the whole street feels like you've just stepped into a 1950s musical.
    Upon arrival, the first thing i saw, before i even knew i had actually reached my destination, was a permanently mounted sandwich board on metal poles driven straight into the center of the cobblestone street. "Please respect the neighborhood," it said in both French and English, with easily-identifiable clip art indicating no video, no photos, no loud noises.
    This is a residential street, these are people's homes. I had felt guilty about recording the Wooden House District in Oslo. So for this neighborhood, with its clearly posted, polite request, i will honor that. I took no video and no photos.
    Except for a selfie with that sign.

    Other people were walking through the neighborhood with their cameras and phones out, blatantly disregarding the signs and being nightmare tourists, as expected. But at least this one time, i was not going to be That Guy™. I regularly disrespect governments, armies, and corporations, but regular citizens who just want their privacy? I understand.
    I did walk through the neighborhood, though, both to check it out with my own eyes and just soak it in for a minute, and because that was the way i needed to go to reach my next destination anyway.
    Coulée Verte, or La Promenade Plantée, is the world's first green space constructed on an elevated viaduct. This is another abandoned railway, originally the Vincennes rail line, which linked the Bastille station to Verneuil-l'Étang from 1859-1969, becoming defunct after 110 years of service. In the 1980s, the train station was demolished and an opera was built, so the city wanted to do something with this elevated rail line itself. Landscaper Jacques Vergely and architect Philippe Mathieux came up with a plan to turn it into a lush, tree-lined parkway over the city, with frequent lookout points to stop and observe the traffic below. There's also a preserved 1800s railway station, Gare de Reuilly, to "give homage to what once was."
    So while i may have missed out on finding those abandoned old stations on La Petite Ceinture, at least i should have an opportunity to see a well-maintained, repurposed one on this track!

    How far is it to Gare de Reuilly?
    Oh shit, over a mile. How long is La Promenade Plantée? Over two miles?
    Shit. Okay, i'm jumping off of this at the next intersection...
    Oh. I can't. It just keeps going.
    It did take me a while to find an exit, but i took the first one i saw. This led me through a multi-level park called Jardin Hector Malot. The first level down from the Promenade was all sports courts and exercise machines. The second level down was a miniature botanical garden. A third level down finally got me to the street.
    I detoured about half a mile to get to Invader Ground Zero.
    All around Paris, i've been seeing street art which uses ceramic tiles to make pixelated space invaders from old video games like Galaga. They'll show up in random places, here and there. I didn't know they were a thing until yesterday, i hadn't been taking pictures of them. I finally go a shot of one this morning, between the boulangerie and the park Jadrin de la Gare de Charonne.
    This spot, though, is a couple of walls in a narrow street covered by dozens, maybe over a hundred, pieces of tile pixel art, plus other types of graffiti, stickers, and street paintings. It's a shrine to Invader, the artist who created the original space invader pieces, beginning in the 1990s. Like Banksy, Invader remains anonymous to this day.

    Invader Ground Zero is a shrine and a tribute to Invader; the vast majority of the pieces were done by other artists who were inspired by them. However, two Invader originals are on display in the area. The shrine encompasses two walls, one long and one short; the shorter wall contains PA_133, a black space invader with white eyes, surrounded by tributes. On the other side of the street corner, by itself, is PA_47, a similar design to its counterpart, but in blue.
    The reason the shrine is in this spot is because Invader's inaugural tile art, PA_01, was originally installed just a few meters from here. Unfortunately, the piece is no longer visible to the public, having been covered up during repairs to the building's façade. It's still in there somewhere, but we may never see it again.
    Was this detour worth it? I'd say yes. I like street art. This may be apparent from the way i shoot my vacation videos and photos.
    I returned to Jardin Hector Malot, and rejoined the plant railway exactly where i'd left off.
    This is where i fucked up.
    That thing i said to put a pin in earlier?
    I'd had four Atlas Obscura items i wanted to check off, coming from the Bastille. The fourth one just a little further northeast from Invader Ground Zero. Before i knew that the plantway was so long, i'd planned to continue up that way from the invaders.
    It's the remnants of the Paris Guillotine.
    It's easy to miss, it's just the indents in the pavement where the structure of the thing sat from 1851 to 1899, at the entrance to Prison de la Roquette, conducting 69 beheadings over 48 years.
    Although, you know...looking at the map now, it's actually a lot closer to my hostel than it is to the Coulée Verte. It's just past Père-Lachaise. I could probably swing over there in the morning. Maybe it's actually more efficient to do it this way.
    Okay, forgive my swearing ealier. Pardon my French, as it were.
    Sorry. Unedited, stream of consciousness writing. You know how it is.
    The rest of the walk through the Promenade Plantée was quite pleasant. There's lots of benches and places to rest, and many people were taking advantage of it. Also lots of people running through the area. It seems like a really nice spot for recreation.
    I finally reached Gare de Charonne. There's an eponymous park behind it, which was open and full of people recreating, but a fence stood between the park and the actual station. The gates were closed.
    I continued around the station, toward the front of the building, and saw many tables and tents set up, with people sitting in them. Seems like some kind of an event.
    There were photo boards hanging off of the wrought iron fencing around the entire front yard of the building.
    It definitely still had a large sign up over the front door that said Gare de Charonne. This was indeed the place.
    There were two women at the open front gate with a cart and clipboards. Something about the way they were dressed gave the impression they were nurses, though i couldn't put my finger on it. There was a man in a wheelchair speaking to one of them.
    Though the gate was open, i continued past it. More photo boards.
    From the few words written about the station on Atlas Obscura, i'd somehow gotten the impression that the station was open for viewing, both as an exhibit, and with active shops inside, to cater toward the people walking down the promenade. I don't know where i got that impression. Rereading the article now, it doesn't say anything of the sort; it mentions that the railway was "turned it into a lovely parkway that was opened in 1993 that established and flourished as the storefronts and neighborhood around it did the same," which i may have interpreted as meaning there were stores associated with the promenade. All it says about Gare de Charonne is actually about the park. "Jardin de la gare de Reuilly, that features a preserved railway station giving homage to what once was."
    Gare de Charonne has actually been repurposed into a care facility for the disabled and elderly.
    Which. Right on, man.
    Sure, i'm disappointed that i can't go in and look around a 200-year-old train station and maybe get a soda or something. But all in all, i'm much happier that this exists. I'm glad they could put this old infrastructure to such a good use, instead of just another monument to capitalism and convenience.
    Gare de Charonne is close enough to the hostel that i figured it would be a good spot to call it a day. I had walked a big loop around the 12th Arrondissement, i was probably good. It was 7pm anyway. It had been a good day.
    I got back to the Jo & Joe Nation hostel and stopped my Garmin. My walk today had been 13.15 miles. Another half-marathon. This time, though, i didn't stop long enough to end the workout. Just an unbroken 13.15 mile line, drawn around the neighborhood.

    I was quite hungry, having done all that walking on literally just a quiche and an éclair. I didn't feel like leaving the hostel again, so i resolved to have bar food. Didn't want to order another huge pizza, though, and as i looked through the menu, i realized those are really the only main dishes they have.
    So i got the Croque Monsieur plate again.
    But today, it felt like the correct amount of food.
    I also ordered a beer. They have four beers on tap, one of which is the house-brewed Jo' Beer, which you'd think would be what i'd be getting, what with my penchant for trying the most hyper-local stuff. After all, my first day, i had ordered their house special Joe Pizza.
    But no, next to that on the tap is a werewolf-themed beer, complete with a carved werewolf handle, called La Bête, or The Beast.

    I had to. You know i had to try it. The wolf theming on this street is so strong.
    I liked it!
    ...at first.
    After the first few sips, it just started tasting like a beer to me. I tried to balance it with taking bites of food, tried to get it all down before i ran out of sandwich, but it was tough. I did it, though.
    The last few bites of sandwich weren't enough to get the taste of beer out of my mouth, though, so i ordered a rum & Coke. Which, interestingly, and i noticed this the first night, when i was at the rooftop garden, in Paris (or at least, at this hostel), they make rum & Coke with clear Bacardi, not a dark or spiced rum. It's different. But it's fine.
    So that's why i've been a bit loopy while writing this all out. I hope it hasn't been too distracting.
    I still haven't talked to anyone about skateboarding lessons. Wish i had done that sooner. I guess my last chance will be tomorrow at checkout, which is at 10 at this hostel, instead of 11 as it is most places. Plus i'd like to get a shower in yet, in the morning. So i better get some sleep.
    Do i regret skipping the Louvre and Notre Dame?
    No. Not at all. I feel like i spent today much more in my own idiom. I'm happy.
    Tomorrow, i head for Belgium.