PARIS, HERE WE COME!

11 July 2008

On our way to Beaune, Ragen played Ronny's (who is a Belgian) tape. Here are the lyrics:

Potverdekke, it's great to be a Belgian

I'm not English, I'm not French and I'm not Dutch

(I'm not Spanish, Portuguese or German)

I'm a Belgian, so thank you very much!

As I walk along the streets

With my mayonnaise and frites

You can tell I'm as happy as can be

With my Duvel in my hand

Then you must understand

I'm a Belgian, so nothing worries me!

Potverdekke, it's great to be a Belgian

(I'm not Irish, Italian or Danish)

I'm a Belgian, so thank you very much!

Without the Belgians there would be no saxophone

No Tintin, captain Haddock or Poirot

And you'll excuse me if I've missed

Anybody on the list

These are the only Belgians that I know!

Potverdekke, it's great to be a Belgian

I'm not English, I'm not French and I'm not Dutch

(I'm not Spanish, Portuguese or German)

I'm a Belgian, so thank you very much!

Now the English egg and bacon's not so bad

Especially since all their cows went mad

But if they've never tasted mussels

On the Grand Place down in Brussels

It's no wonder they're feeling very sad!

Potverdekke, it's great to be a Belgian

I'm not English, I'm not French and I'm not Dutch

(I'm not Irish, Italian or Danish)

I'm a Belgian, so thank you very much!

I'm a Belgian, I'm not Irish, I'm not Greek

I don't drink Guinness or Retsina, I drink Kriek!

On the Schelde or the Meuse

You find me drinking Gueuze

Or Leffe or Chimay or Lambik!

Potverdekke, it's great to be a Belgian

I'm not English, I'm not French and I'm not Dutch

(I'm not Spanish, Portuguese or German)

I'm a Belgian, so thank you very much!

Potverdekke, it's great to be a Belgian

I'm not English, I'm not French and I'm not Dutch

(And me, I'm not a Luxemburger)

I'm a Belgian, so thank you very much!

I'm not English, I'm not French and I'm not Dutch

(I'm not Spanish, Portuguese or German)

I'm a Belgian, so thank you very much!

Ragen played Ronny's tape a few more times on our way to Paris, as this would be the last drive with Ronny.

As we headed to our hotel, we passed by the Arc de Triomphe but never got to return to it—too bad. We then checked into our hotel, Hotel Beaugency, 21 rue Duvivier. Our group met at the lobby and received a lesson from Ragen on how to use the Metro. We were going to take the Metro to Isle de la Cite'. For someone who lives in a place where no Metro system is set in place, where all we do is jump into our car and drive to wherever we want to be, taking the metro in a foreign land can be daunting. Using this system in going to the Ile de la Cite' was not difficult as Ragen was there to guide us, but coming back to our hotel was a different story.

With Ragen, we toured the core of Paris, visited Sainte Chapelle, the Notre Dame Cathedral, the Martyrs Francais de la Deportation, 1945, and the Latin Quarter.

The Notre Dame, a tourist in Paris should not miss paying a visit. The sculptures, the carved depictions on its wall, its glass-stained windows, and its statues of Biblical kings and of St. Denis are awe-inspiring works of art, evocative. After we took pleasure in viewing all the remarkable works of art, we exited and from the outside, viewed the grand Palais de Justice.

Outside of the Notre Dame is the Deportation Memorial, a memorial to the 200,000 French citizens who died during the Nazi regime. We went to it, descended the steps down to where the prisoners used to be kept before they were deported to different concentrations camps. I had an eerie feeling down there as I imagined the mass of human beings waiting for their horrible fate and for the most part, death. An inscription on the floor said, "They went to the end of the earth and did not return." Very heartbreaking.

Sainte-Chapelle is another sight that a tourist should look in. Inside, I felt relief from the poignant feeling I had at the Memorial. Louis IX (the only king who became a saint) built the church between 1242 and 1248. The chapel has two stories, the first or ground floor for the common people and the upper floor, for the Royal Christians. (Talk about discrimination and no demonstrations!) It has fifteen separate panels of stained glass and according to my research, they have more than 1,100 different scenes. Indescribable display! Rumor has it that Sainte-Chapelle houses the Crown of Thorns although records say that it is in the Notre Dame's Treasury and is only shown to the public on Fridays of Lent.

We went to the Latin Quarter (owing its name to the fact that this used to be the place where students from all over Europe who went to school in Paris would meet up and in order to understand each other they had to use Latin as a common language.) How so erudite, so cultured these students were. I was fascinated.

A probable test by Ragen, our guide: he told us that we would be going back to the hotel on our own, applying the lesson learned from his instruction on how to take the Metro. My "oldie" brain did not work so well, and admittedly, my hearing had somewhat waned, and compounded by the way words are pronounced in French, the word "La Defense" sounded "France." The ticket booth assistant had to repeat her information more than twice, sounding annoyed as I kept on saying, "Repetez, s'il vous plait." Finally, Ron and I got it... and so we thought. We ended up on the wrong side of the track…ay naku. No one around us seemed helpful and I assumed, no one could speak English, until young man came by and I made a last shot of asking for assistance. He told us that we should be on the other side of the track. Merci beaucoup. Feeling relief, we made our way back to the hotel.

The succeeding lunch tasted so good after that stressful experience with the Metro system.