Pairs, Je t'aime

Onward Paris! We woke up bright and early that Friday albeit a few hours of sleep the night before. Somehow visiting Ikmal and Sobri at their home for MacD and coffee and thanking Ikmal for his kind gesture the night at St. Laurent du Var assert the fact that friends are really pivotal especially when you are three thousand light years away from home. I was also deeply grateful on Jun's part staying up until 5 in the morning preparing our travel arrangements and packing the luggage. I am forever indebted for her showing of care and concern for her younger cousin.

Celine met us at Pythagore and drove the lot to Nice where Jun wanted to show me the famed flower market which I was too lazy to take pictures of. Truth be told, I was afraid the stall owners would give me the bird once i started my frenzied snapping. But still, I didn't budge, I didn't take any pictures and now I regret. I couldn't bring a slice of the flower market home let alone add on to my cache of reminiscence. Aside from being such a dumbo for not snapping, we continued down the flower market. It wasn't your typical Pasar Malam nor was it a Pasar Pagi (kidding). It was in fact half and half. The beginning quarter was a market that sold fresh flowers, fresh fruits, paintings and other knick knacks and knock offs that the Nigerian peddlers sold. Down the line however, you'd be comforted with a smorgsbord of gastronomic delights and other French pastries. We bought Provencal herbs that would be gifts for Lydia Jie Jie and Paul. It was never polite turning up someone's house without a gift. We also met Angie, a Singaporean who moved to Nice after marrying her French husband Bruno, but that would be another story for another time.

After the stroll down, we rushed to the airport to catch our flight to Paris, Orly and Celine was a darling to offer a ride to the airport.

A short 1 hour flight and we arrived in Paris. Anxious from all the hype, I couldn't wait to leave the airport to experience Paris in its full glory. Imagine, the land of romance. People make pilgrimages to Paris and I was here! After clearing all administrative matters at the airport, we dragged our luggages and rode the RER down to the Eiffel Tower (Champ de Mar, Tour Eiffel). Actually, I was compelled by the sheer weight of the luggage that I felt very agitated during the first few hours of Paris but I tried to cover it up and not be impolite in front of Jun who sacrificed so much for me to make this trip so enjoyable. So I sucked whatever I had and poker faced my way through. She could however smell my irritation and offered to lighten the load. I relented and poker faced all the way to the Eiffel Tower and was in awe of its engineering excellence. A mass of twisted metal and wire mesh. It was moments like these that made me realise that I WAS IN PARIS! Oh my god, I see this all the time in the movies and on the television and this time it was here, right before my eyes. It was majestic, you could feel its presence even in from a distance.

The sheer weight of the luggage was again dampening my experience and we headed down to the Louvre hoping the Louvre had a cloakroom/ bag room. We took the metro down afew stops to the Musee d'Orsay and walked over to the Louvre. Once we've arrived at the gardens that was situated in front of the Louvre, I was again spellbound and that slap "I AM IN PARIS" went right on my cheek. We sat at Paul's in front of the Louvre for some Chocolat Chaude (Hot Chocolate) and some pastries resting our sorry feet and my sorry shoulder before going into the Louvre. We were however attacked by the many pigeons around and had to make for a quick getaway. Just as we were leaving however, a dead mouse dropped from the sky and landed on Jun's feet! Probably some bird of prey lost its grip but anyhow that was the indicator we had to go in.

True enough, there was a clock / bag room and I was over joyed! All I wanted was to dump the luggage somewhere, of course in a non suspicious manner, you wouldn't want a bomb squad right on your tail if you've left your bag in some unattended locker or under some bench in front of Parliment Building. Anyhow, we went to the ticket counter and flashed our student IDs and we got into the Louvre for free! Without said pass, I would have to pay about 8 euros! More savings! I was a common tourist and since we're at the Louvre lets head straight to the Mona Lisa. I went through flights of stairs and pass the so many Angels and expressions of Christ and Mother Mary before coming to a little room with a horde of people trying to take pictures. We got in and there was it, the Mona Lisa. A horde was trying to snap pictures and the Mona Lisa and the museum folks were in vain in trying to stop the horde. So like the rest, I took out my handphone and discreetly took a shot of the Mona Lisa and skipped to the next room. There was one place in the Louvre that you couldn't probably appreciate art. It was the room which housed the Mona Lisa. How is it possible to stare at a picture and study the grains and strokes and try to think and feel what the painter felt with so many people snapping at their cameras and with museum workers constantly disuading them from taking pictures? And you thought Singaporeans were Kiasu. We walked most of the Louvre waiting for phone calls from both Farah and Jun's cousin.

For one Farah was going to a gathering to celebrate and thank an embassy staff who has helped all the students in France. So many Malaysian students came from all over France to Paris for this gathering. After receiving the call that Farah and Farid were at the apartment, we made our way down to its location afew minutes away from the Eiffel Tower. It was still in the city centre but a little far out and was also beside La Seine. Upon reaching the apartment, we were invited for a asam laksa and bee hoon goreng free for all in the heart of Paris! The house was full of Malaysian students and Jun took her time to call on her friends and relive the past. I however was just stuffing my face with the goodies and constantly keeping my eyes on the French MTV.

I am tired. Next - Paris at night and after that!

Cannes

As the days go on by, I slowly forget my time in Europe. However hard I try to keep it stored, they get replaced by newer events that are uploaded to my memory cache. Therefore, I should continue writing my days in Europe before I forget them all! I should just do it daily in Europe but that didn't strike me until I landed in Singapore and started to reminisce my time in Europe causing sleepless nights that greatly affected my sleeping patterns. That was probably my biggest case of jet lag to date.

All that is left in me are little snippets and frames that appear before my mind's eye on whatever that has happened three weeks ago. (Side note, my phone bill has not arrived but I fear the worst. 2 weeks in Europe and a weekend in KL, I think the international call bill will hit the roof) We left for Cannes after a hearty lunch made by Jun. We made our way to Cannes with Rauny in the cockpit, navigating his trusty 20 year old Peugeot 205 down the main highway to Cannes which was close to 45min away. The journey was very much consistent, petrol stations, houses, some trees, some fields, it wasn't like our afternoon drive to Vence where we met his friend's father for the renewed driving insurance tag (but that's for another story). It was repetitive and consistent, walls after walls after walls, it was your typical highway you would drive anywhere.

Seeing all Venetian styled windows and buildings that looked very different from the more rustic Nice, you needn't a signboard to tell you you were Cannes. The buildings were intricately carved and their facades were very different from that of Nice. It was more classy and less beach resort like when compared to Nice. The stores are a little more catered to haute couture and not run-of-the-mill factory production. Big names in high fashion line the main boardwalk of Cannes like Hermes, Louis Vuitton, Chanel and other haute products too haute for my wallet to take. The variety of cars that lined the famous boardwalk was also greater than in Nice. Instead of your traditional French fare, you had Audis, Hummers and other fuel guzzling contraptions over zealous petrol heads would call their second home.





Who wouldn't visit the Palais des Festivals (Home of the Cannes Film Festival) when they visit Cannes? So like any other traveler who was afraid to take the road less traveled, I went to the most famous sight for a glimpse of the venue that portrayed more glitz on a rapper's bling and more glamour than Fergie can ever get. I was however disappointed that the Palais des Festivals wasn't much of a sight. Honestly speaking, I was amazed when I saw the Sydney Opera House from a distance and was awestruck when I was in its compounds but the Palais des Festivals looked worse than The Cathay near SMU let alone The Esplanade. It had a less than promising facade and the only thing that resembled something glitzy was a red carpet that had other like minded tourists trying to squeeze photos on it. And like any other like minded tourist I took a picture in front of the Palais des Festivals that was like a stamp of presence screaming "I was here!"

I was disappointed with the over hype so Rauny suggested, we should stop our walking and take a bath at the beach. Imagine, this is the closest I can get to bathing in the Mediterranean, all these talk of soaking some sun in the French Rivera, swimming in the Mediterranean among mermaids and gawking at the lithe nudies on the beach. This was my time! We chose a spot behind the Palais des Festivals, rolled out our mat and towels and got ready to get our feet wet. And then it struck me, we weren't at a nude beach but why are the ladies liberally walking bare chested. Mind you, these weren't the lithe beauties you dream would fantasize about but old sags I meant hags. It was definitely a sight, a sorry sight and I was traumatized. From first look, I kept my chin down and my gaze to the floor, I didn't want to be shocked by anymore graphic visuals. To prevent any other form of disgust, I ran straight for the sea for a dip. I was expecting warm Mediterranean waters as depicted by Discovery Travel and Living and other travel channels that spoke of false promise of warm comforting temperatures. The temperature of water was however very cold even in the heat of the summer. I had difficulty adapting to the cold water and had to mentally challenge myself to fully submerge my body. It was already 8pm and we managed to squeeze a little bit of whats left of the sun before we headed to Juan Les Pins to give Stefan a visit. Problem was the restaurant he was working closed early that night about 10pm and so we headed back to Pythagore for dinner.

I loved that day, every single day in Europe to be honest. I would definitely want to go back visit the new friends I made. Bring a piece of Singapore to them like how they brought the whole French pie to me. Sigh, three weeks has passed since landing in Singapore, I sure miss it there.