Got up early and went to the train station. While waiting for the train, Abby and I were singing Riders on the Storm, The Crystal Ship and Light My Fire. The first thing we did when we got there was Cemetiere du Pere Lachaise. I made sure of that.

It may have been cold, but the bare trees and the grey skies made for some great pictures.

I keep replaying the moment over and over. There I was, actually standing in front of Jim Morrison's grave. I was able to kneel down, take a clump of dirt and say my own private, "Hey, Jim." What a moment, what a moment. What. A. Moment.

Jim's grave.

Of course there's a ton of Jim graffiti. A lot of it is drug related. That's just sad to me, that there are people out there who think that all Jim was about was drugs and debauchery. He was an artist and a poet, man. He was a genius. He should not be an excuse for some fifteen year old to go out and get drunk every night. But I guess there are some people who will never get it.

A beautiful grave (not Jim's) that has been defaced with graffiti.

The whole cemetery was actually amazing. I love old cemeteries, and this one satisfied my every affinity for them.

My favorite picture, out of many amazing pictures taken at Pere Lachaise.

I am glad we hiked up to the back where Oscar Wilde is buried, because we were able to see the Holocaust memorials that are up there. There are some powerful, eloquent monuments to the victims of various camps, that just took my breath away. Haunting.

The monument to the victims of Ravensbruk.

The Buchenwald memorial.

Also: the Paris Metro is a great system: easy to navigate, easy access to almost every area in the city. And it's easy to find the train you're looking for. Thank god, because I doubt any of the Parisians would help us if we got confused.

January 4
Paris

Last night, we were lying in bed in the dark. Abby was telling Lucy that we gave our film to my mother, so she could have it developed while we were in Paris. "I don't think there's anything embarrassing on there," Abby said. Then Lucy said, "Wait... you gave the pictures of the Sex Museum to your MOM?" Realization dawned, and all three of us cracked up.

Also forgot to say that we went to the Eiffel Tower last night. We didn't go up it or anything (it was cold and raining) but it was beautiful. There were twinkly blue lights all over it.

Here's a view of the blue lights. (None of the pictures of the twinkles came out.)

Then we went to dinner where the staff was unbelievably rude to us! Cool. Rude French people!

Two unexpected great things today:
1. I saw the Winged Nike of Samothrace. I had no idea it was at the Louvre! I bought a marble replica of this statue when I was in Athens, because I love it so much. And there it was!

The winged Nike statue. The pictures do it absolutely no justice.

2. I saw Jim Morrison's jacket, in the Hard Rock Café Paris.

The picture sucks, but who the hell cares?

Lots of expected great things.

Went to the Louvre. Unfortunately, none of the signs were in English. It was not as enthralling as I expected (I can only look at Renaissance paintings for so long) but I enjoyed seeing the famous stuff: Michaelangelo's Dying Slave sculpture, the Venus de Milo, the Mona Lisa (the colors are really incredible) the Virgin, Child & St. Anne, Cupid and Psyche. Plus, the building itself is really spectacular.

Hey, there's me! At the Louvre! Wow!

I chose a couple of areas that I wanted to see and basically stuck to them: painting, sculpture, and Greek & Roman artifacts. If I had more time, I would have gotten an audio tour and spent the day. But I'm happy with what we did: wandered around the museum for three hours, stopping to look at whatever caught our attention, without a lot of pressure.

Just some painting. Nothing special.

After going to the Van Gogh Museum, I started thinking about what a privilege art museums are. In my Revolting Romantics class, we learned that public art museums were really a 19th century institution. I had never thought of the art museum as a concept before, but it reverberated through my brain. When you think about it, it really is such an honor. We are permitted to go and stand in front of a painting, and the artist himself was the one who applied colors to the paintbrush, and the brush to the canvas, sometimes hundreds of years ago. Such as the Mona Lisa, painted by the actual Leonardo da Vinci, the greatest genius who ever lived. Wow. What a new perspective.

Abby and I at Notre Dame.

Then we went to Notre Dame. Unfortunately, we were there at mass time, so the altar area was closed. We didn't walk up the tower because it's 400 steps up, and we're lazy. At any rate, it reminded me strongly of cathedrals I have seen in Spain. It wasn't terribly overwhelming. I think my expectations were too high. I was wearing a backpack under my jacket and I had a lot of fun bending down and moaning, "Sanctuary. Saaanctuary..."

Abby, lighting a candle inside the cathedral.

Then, we headed to the Eiffel Tower. We rode up to the second deck (the third one was closed due to wind) and took some pictures. Wind and clouds and dappled light and clear skies. Spectacular view.

I love the patch of sunlight on the buildings in this picture.

Then we headed to the Arc de Triomphe. It was much more impressive than I expected. Larger and more imposing. We took some pictures across the street, and then tried to figure out how to get to the Arc itself. It's in the middle of this crazy ass traffic circle and as it turns out, there's an underground tunnel you take to get there. Loved seeing the sculpture up close. Also enjoyed seeing the tomb of the unknown soldier of France, which is located beneath the Arc.

My favorite sculpture, on the side of the Arc that faces the Louvre.

Then we headed to the Picasso Museum. Some great stuff. Rushed through though due to group hunger and tiredness. But better than not seeing it at all.

Me and one of Picasso's sculptures. Don't worry, I didn't touch.

Then a fun (fast) cab ride to the Hard Rock. I wasn't thrilled about the destination but when I walked in, I saw Jim's leather jacket! (Surprisingly small.) I remembered the food being bad, but it was excellent. I think it's the veggie burger that I don't like. So that was a great experience. And I bought a really nifty guitar/Eiffel Tower pin.

January 5
Paris & Almere

A cold, rainy day.

Today we got up and went to the Champs Elysses to shop. Got makeup at Sephora and some more souvenirs, ate at (of all places) McDonalds. McDonalds on the Champs Elysses! How gauche.

We also went to Le Maison du Choclat and bought a shitload of chocolate. It better be all that AND a bag of chips. It's extremely expensive there, but supposedly the best chocolate in the world. I don't know. Dutch chocolate is pretty damn good.

Then we went back to the Montmartre (the part of town where our hotel was) to see the Bascilica of Sacre Cour. It was raining hard and we had to wait forever to get a taxi back to the hotel, but it was worth it. It was much more to my taste than Notre Dame: lighter and not as gloomy, with a spectacular huge dome on the inside. I loved the four stone angels in particular, looking down on you as if they really exist.

A view of Sacre Cour from the Eiffel Tower.
It's the little domed thingie in the center. (More cool sunlight splashes, too.)

Overall, I am pleased with Paris trip. Saw a lot in a short time, basically everything I wanted to see. The Parisians are RUDE though-- mostly the men! Even the ones who work in tourist spots act like they don't understand you if you try and talk to them. And nobody smiles here. I smile at people on the street and they look back at me like, "You idiot."

January 7
Almere

Yesterday we had a party for Christian's birthday.

The birthday boy and his mom.

It's odd that in such a huge crowd of people, I was finally able to have a good intimate talk with my brother-in-law. We were both drunk and so we started talking about sex and relationships and so on and so forth.

Also had a good talk with E, Conny's hip niece. And her nephew B-- nice guy, my age, speaks good English. Chris kept trying to get me to give him my URL and in the process, now the whole family knows about the web site. Plus, my parents now brag about it to people. Great. Fucking wonderful.

The girls. (We always talked about the "two girl curse" in our family, because we grew up as four sets of two girls, each about three years apart. It was quite funny to discover that Conny also had two girls, three years apart.)

People keep asking me about the election, who I voted for, and all that. Jesus, god! Every time this happens, I realize how happy I am that for the most part, I am free from all that. I hate the idea of him being the president.

I read Clinton's Rolling Stone interview, and it just made me love him more. I respect Clinton immensely. I could not possibly have less respect for Dubya. I have decided to avoid newspapers, news broadcasts and news of any kind for the next four years. Oh, but wait. That would turn me exactly into the kind of ignorant, apathetic American that I despise. Shit. Plan B, then.

January 8
Home

Well, had a good talk last night with both Chris and Conny. A nice way to end the vacation. I cried at the airport and hugged them both tightly. I'm going to miss them like hell.

But that's okay, because I'm already planning another trip, maybe with Katie, my international travel partner. Katie was in Paris and Holland this Christmas, too, but our plans to meet up never materialized. She's going to Turkey this spring, and is considering spending a week in Holland before she leaves.

My mother heard about this plan and said, "Well, you can stay with Oma! Her retirement home has rooms that you can rent for really cheap, if you're visiting one of the residents." I'm so sure. That's the happening spot. The retirement home. "Oh, I'm going to Holland." "Really? Where? Are you gonna go party in Amsterdam?" "Um, no. I'm going to go to a retirement home instead! Woo hoo!" "Uuuh... okay."

Epilogue

It was definitely a successful vacation for me. When my sister and her family were here last year, I was working, and I didn't get the chance to spend that much time with them. It was the first time we had ever met each other, and things were still rather tentative.

But this year, we spent a lot of time just hanging out. We were bored together, we had fun together, we witnessed each other's arguments, we got on each other's nerves, we spent time together, we had some deep talks. In other words, we acted like a family. And regardless of the boredom, the bitter cold, a pervert here and a Jesus freak there... that's what this vacation was all about.

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