Paris cont

I left Notre-Dame and went to Sainte-Chappelle. I remembered being completely in love with Sainte-Chappelle on my first trip to Paris, and I also remembered it being quiet. But the long queue at the ticket window did not bode well, and sure enough the small chapel was completely packed with very loud tourists. Indeed, every few minutes one of the staff members would make an announcement about the need for silence in the chapel. It felt like I was dealing with an unruly class of primary school kids. In spite of the crowd, the chapel was as stunningly gorgeous as I remembered, which made me happy.

Then I went back to my hostel, where I signed up for the 6 euro dinner. After a brief rest in my room, I left with my copy of Les Mis for les Tuileries. I got some espresso and an eclair and read in the garden until sunset. Just lovely. Dinner at the hostel was OK; the food was good but the people at my table weren't sociable, which was irritating. But later while I was filling out postcards and having some wine in the bar I met a backpacker from Australia, and we had a really fun conversation that lasted for over an hour. I love those conversations in hostels; that's something I'll really miss when I get back to the States.

Sunday morning I woke up and checked out of the hostel, leaving my backpack in the luggage room as I did so. My train back to London wasn't until 5:45PM. I went to hear mass at Sacre-Coeur, and that was gorgeous. It was sunny and really warm outside; I laid on the grass in front of Sacre-Coeur for a bit before continuing on my way.

Then I went to les Champs-Elysees. On my first trip to Paris, the very first Metro exit Q led us out of was the one on les Champs-Elysees that brings you right up to l'Arc de Triomphe. It was this exit I took now. So beautiful, l'Arc. I spent the afternoon walking down les Champs-Elysees towards le Pont d'Alexandre III. Along the way I passed some beautiful gardens in the Place de Franklin Roosevelt, and I stopped there and read for a bit in the sunshine, enjoying seeing the little French children playing. I made my way to the famous bridge from there, passing le Grand and le Petit Palais on the way. It was a beautiful walk and I was quite content. After taking some pictures on le Pont d'Alexandre III, I strolled along the Seine all the way to Trocadero (which turned out to be quite a hike). At Trocadero I got a crepe and pondered the Eiffel Tower for the last time (on this trip, anyway). Then I went to le Champ de Mars and walked through the park, past the peace memorial, and through the surrounding streets. It was time for me to find a Metro station and return to the hostel to get my backpack.

The return journey was uneventful and more comfortable than the trip there had been. I felt at home when I got to Kings Cross. I can navigate that station in my sleep. I know the Tube so well I hardly ever need to look at a map now. The British accents were comforting and familiar after a weekend of French.

I now have only two weeks left abroad, and I'm frankly startled at how acclimated I am to life in London. It's truly in the little things that I catch myself doing, thinking, or saying--the irritation at people who clearly don't know how to use the Tube, saying "packet of crisps" instead of "bag of chips", no longer needing to examine the coins in my pocket to know what they are, and thinking that tea without milk is odd. Whenever I notice these types of things I experience two emotions--excitement that I've picked up so much of the culture and lifestyle...and homesickness.

In any event, the countdown is really on now. Six days until Italy, fifteen until Michigan, and twenty-two until Pittsburgh.