It's getting cold here
and there ain't a lizard in sight
did the end begin
when you shed your skin
in the home of the brave
Somebody shake him
from the land of larger than life
where the remnants warn
of a legend born
in a dead man's cave
Jim Morrison's grave
-From “Jim Morrison’s Grave” by Steve Taylor
This is going to be a long one…
The night before we left Interlaken I went to talk to the lady at the front
desk of the Hotel Toscana. I knew that they didn’t keep the desk open 24
hours, and I wanted to close out our bill. Of course, this would be the second
time I paid for the MinOtel Toscana, but that wasn’t her fault. I would deal
with that issue when I got home.
The lady was concerned when we told her we had to leave the next morning to
catch an early train. “You’ll miss breakfast!”, she said. I agreed, and
figured it was just part of the territory. We would grab something someway, at
the train station, or on the train. She said, “I will make you sandwiches”.
She told me to come back to the desk at 8:PM to pick them up, and I could
leave them out on the balcony overnight, because it would be cold and they
wouldn’t spoil.
When I came back later, she had it all bagged up for us. Very organized,
everything tight and taped closed. I figured that there must be some charge
for this, but if there was I never found it. I think she was just being nice
to us because she knew we had paid twice to stay, and the first time the money
was stolen.
I asked if she could call a taxi company and have a cab meet us at the
hotel at 6:00am, and to please tell them we had five people with luggage. She
called and spoke in the Swiss German dialect. I thanked her and let her know
how much we liked their hotel, and that we would recommend it to others,
especially large families traveling together.
In the morning, we got up bright and early. We had gone to the store and
bought some “Sugar Crisp” cereal, and a liter of milk before we were offered
the sandwiches. We figured that we would eat the cereal now, and save the
sandwiches for lunch on the train. It would be a long day traveling from
Interlaken to Paris.
The cab arrived right on time, and large enough to take us all in one trip.
We went to Interlaken West, because we found that it was only a few blocks
from the hotel. The Ost train station we started at was much farther.
The fare was only a few Francs, and I rounded it up. Again, the driver
seemed pleased and surprised when I wouldn’t accept the change. A big
difference from the US, where if you don’t tip a cab driver, he might flip you
off, then run over your foot.
We went inside the West train station, and found a big bench where we could
group our luggage, and all sit. There was a store already open inside the
station. Inside they were serving food, which we didn’t expect. Had we known,
we would have eaten there instead of the cereal out of the Toscana room
glasses.
I looked around and there wasn’t really anything I wanted to buy, except
some bottled water. I came out and gave Jane and the kids the remaining thirty
or so Swiss Francs that I had left and asked them to go spend them. No use in
taking Swiss currency back to France, and ultimately home.
Late the night before, Jane and I walked over the station and changed our
planned route to one that was more direct. We were going to take three trains,
but we found that if we connected through Bern, we could get a TGV (bullet
train) right into Paris.
The train to Bern came right on time. It was a commuter type train, and
there weren’t a lot of people on it at that hour. We spread out. I sat alone
toward the center of the car.
When we arrived in Bern, we changed trains without incident, settling into
our reserved first class seats on the TGV.
When lunch time came, we opened the bag from the lady in Interlaken. She
had really gone out of her way. We had sandwiches, including a vegetarian one
for Christian. She packed bottles of orange juice, chips and Kit-Kat candy
bars. This was one of the nicest things any stranger did for us during the
trip.
It was a long trip, though Switzerland and across France. On the way I
pulled out the hotel file. This was one of the hotels we had to reschedule due
to the MinOtel fiasco. Several days before in Florence, I just booked a Best
Western in Paris that had a triple room for the kids and a double for me and
Jane. I was kind of rattled at the time, and figured that we would get to
Paris and find the place using the Metro or cabs. This was the first time I
looked to see where the hotel actually was. What I learned is that strictly by
accident, I had booked a hotel directly across the street from where we would
arrive, the Paris Gare De Lyon station.
Gare De Lyon is in a very busy area of Paris, just west of the Bercy
station that we left from over two weeks before. We rolled our luggage out the
door, thinking that we would see a huge “Best Western” sign, but that wasn’t
quite the case. We walked around a bit, and I looked at a tiny map in the Best
Western book we took the night before from an unsuspecting clerk at a hotel
near Interlaken West.
We finally spotted the sign, it was across the street, but on the next
street over. It was visible from the station, but you kind of had to know
where to look.
We checked into the hotel, and once again took two shifts to get up to our
rooms. The kids were down the hall, and our room wasn’t clean yet. I missed
Switzerland already.
We put all of our luggage in the kids room, and locked it up. We decided
that since our time in Paris was going to be short, we would do some sight
seeing.
We found the Metro, and bought a 3 day pass for everyone. We did that even
though the next day we wouldn’t be in Paris, because it covered us when we got
back and had to return to the Quality Hotel near the CDG airport.
Once we got our passes in order, we decided to do something from Jane’s
list. She wanted to visit the grave of Héloïse and Abélard at the famous
Cimetiere du Père LaChaise.
I actually had no idea who Héloïse and Abélard were, but I am a huge fan of
“The Doors”, and I happened to know that Jim Morrison was buried there.
After another whirl on the Metro, we came up across the street from the
Pere LaChaise Cemetery. We bought a map from a newsstand outside. I wasn’t
sure what to expect, as far as security. It turned out that we were able to
walk right in, just like you would a public park.
This is an amazing place. I don’t know that there is anything like this
Cemetery in the US, at least not in the west where we live. There were huge
monuments, crypts and very old graves. Some had private prayer rooms built
into the memorials.
We arrived at the grave of Abelard and Heloise. It was very fancy. Jane
explained to us that they were a real life “Romeo and Juliet”. I could see
that this meant a lot to Jane, so to commemorate the occasion, I reached
inside the fence around the grave and took a chestnut that had fallen to the
ground, and stuck it in my pocket.
Jane at the grave of Abelard and Heloise at the Pere LaChaise Cemetery in
Paris
After visiting Abelard and Heloise, we headed off to locate the grave of
Jim Morrison, the lead singer of “The Doors”. Morrison managed to start a rock
group, become world famous and kill himself with alcohol and drugs all before
the age of 30. As we walked through the grave yard, doors songs were echoing
in my head. Finally, we located the grave. Apparently, vandals had stolen the
bust of Morrison that used to mark the grave, and now there was a fairly
simple headstone. It was sectioned off with steel barricades. Hanging around
the perimeter was a pretty good assortment of weirdoes of various ages. I
guess I fit right in.
The grave of Jim Morrison, lead singer of “The Doors”
After we left the Jim Morrison experience, we headed up the hill to find a
grave of someone who really is a timeless genius:
Jane at the grave of Chopin
From Chopin’s grave, we could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance. We
decided to make that our next stop. After stopping at the grave of Eugene
Delacroix, we left the cemetery and went back to the Metro.
When we came up from the underground, we had our first good look at another
world famous landmark. The Eiffel Tower was truly grand. We walked around the
area and saw long lines for elevators to the top. But one side had a short
line. We decided to take that one. Now, after climbing Mount Vesuvius, and the
Leaning Tower of Pisa, we were about to add the Eiffel Tower to our list.
We came up to the ticket window. I said, “Cinq”, and held up five fingers.
The girl behind the glass told me the price in French. I don’t speak French,
so to me it just sounded like, “Blue, Blee, Foo, Foo, Blue, Blah, Blue”. I
looked at her kind of like dogs look at people when they start to wax
philosophical. I even turned my head kind of sideways. She ripped the register
tape and thrust it in my face. “Oh… 17.50”, I said, and handed her a €20.00
bill.
I said, “Who needs elevators when you have legs?”. The stairs actually only
go to a second viewing platform, but it is a long climb up, probably hundreds
of stairs.
Erin, Climbing the Eiffel Tower
We got to the first platform, and Jane and Erin decided they had enough
climbing, so they went into a café and had some frites. Christian, Casey and I
pressed on to the second level.
Joseph and Casey on the Eiffel Tower
After walking around the platform for a while, we rejoined the girls down
at the first level. Then we bought some souvenirs, and took a very packed
elevator back down to the ground level.
After getting lost while trying to find the Metro, we turned back around
and suddenly the tower lit up with glittering, twinkling lights. It was very
spectacular from across the river.
Jane and Joseph across the river from the Eiffel Tower at dusk
