Sightseeing
Christine and her three friends were nearing the end of their weeks stay in Paris. They had done all the customary tourist attractions that are basically obligatory while in the city.
On day one, they took an elevator to the top of le Tour d'Eiffel, and had lunch at Le Jules Verne at 125 meters above the ground. They contemplated Mona Lisa's smile at Le Louvre on the second day, and admired many other works of art as well. Ashley, being the slightly nerdy one, had to practically be dragged away from the works that were mentioned in Dan Brown's The DaVinci Code.
Notre Dame was on the agenda for day three. Upon entering the cathedral, Christine's breath was taken. The ornate artwork and amazing architecture gave the building more than just history-it gave the cathedral personality. Christine felt safe within the old church, its stone walls offering her protection in a way she had never before experienced. Christine was by no means a Catholic, or overly religious at all for that matter, but for that singular moment in Notre Dame, she believed in angels.
Day four, the quartet decided to take a break from the attractions. Instead, they shopped. The fashion capital of the world stood up to its reputation flawlessly. The girls came back to the hotel with their arms heavy with handbags, shirts, skirts, shoes, and cosmetics, with their pocketbooks considerably lighter.
That night, the girls got to test their new apparel at one of Paris's many discotheques. They returned to the hotel at 3 a.m. and did not wake until noon the next day.
Luckily, they had nothing planned for early on day five. Later in the evening, they were to see "Notre Dame de Paris" at the Paris Opera House.
'This is what I really wanted,' Christine thought as she applied her make-up.
Christine's passion was music of all sorts. She listened to every genre, but sang mostly ballads, opera, and Broadway tunes.
They arrived at the Opera House. Like in Notre Dame, Christine was enchanted. The red velvet draperies, the gold-gilded molding, the marble floors, the soaring ceilings, flowing lines…every aspect of the theatre oozed grace and elegance.
The show ensnared her senses and completely captivated her. She had always been attracted to the story of Quasimodo and Esmeralda. Their against-all-odds love for each other and the difficulties each had to face seemed incredibly realistic to Christine. And the music was phenomenal! Christine entered the hotel, clutching the soundtrack and humming her favorite song, "Ave Maria".
On day six, the four did something of questionable legality. They were wandering the streets of Paris when Meg spotted a man's head pop up from a manhole. She screamed, which caught the attention of the man as well as Christine, Carmen, and Ashley. Seeing the frightened and confused expressions on the faces of the girls, the man quickly offered an explanation as to what exactly he was doing. His explanation was one that highly intrigued the now somewhat calmer group of girls.
"I am exploring ze catacombs de Paris," he said with a thick French accent. "Would you care to join me?"
The girls did not even debate the proposition. Furtively, they scanned the street for gendarmes. Seeing none, they carefully lowered themselves into the grimy underground.
The darkness around them was complete, and Christine felt like she was being smothered due to the smell. The air was dank and musty, archaic, decaying, and damp. With each breath Christine took, she thought she could feel her lungs clouding from the old air.
The guide turned on his head lamp and Christine's eyes quickly adjusted to the sparse light. She got her first proper view of the underground. Her first impression was that the catacombs looked how they smelled: slimy. The walls were dripping with some unknown substance and puddles of murky, greenish water gathered at their feet. Christine was thankful that she had worn her sneakers today.
"Suivez-moi," the guide said, as he started to move into the labyrinth. Despite her appropriate footwear, Christine still tried to dodge and skirt all the puddles she could. After about 20 minutes and a few close calls, she decided to not care any more. The scenery was far too interesting to bother with the state of her toes.
As they moved along, the underground grew drier, and surprisingly, more hospitable. Every so often they would pass a large open chamber with smooth walls and a crude table with chairs. Even more shocking was when they encountered other explorers. Some looked like their guide, who obviously made his home in the land of the light. Others, though, looked as if they had never seen the sun in their life. They were pale and dirty, with greasy hair and unpleasant smells.
"Que cherchez-vous?" asked one of the men they encountered. Christine, one of the two girls that actually spoke French, was stunned into silence. She wasn't expecting him to speak at all! The guide, seeing their dumbstruck faces, intervened and carried on what seemed to be a familiar conversation with the underground dweller. They spoke in low tones, with both men gesticulating and pointing in a dozen different directions. Their conversation ended and the group of five continued on their quest.
Left, right, right, middle tunnel, third path from the left…Christine tried to remember the path, but only succeeded in giving herself the beginnings of a big headache.
After an hour and a half of walking in the dark, their guide stopped and turned to them, giving Meg his extra flashlight. "Zis is where I leave you. Ze catacombs are through ze tunnel straight ahead. To reach ze surface, all you have to do it enter zis chamber and climb ze ladder. Have fun, and bonne chance."
Meg gave him a few Euros for his time, said thank you, and he wandered off into the darkness before the girls had a chance to question him further.
Christine was the first one to enter the chamber, and what she saw astonished her. Heaped in piles all around her were human remains. Most were bones, but the smell indicated that a few bodies were still in over of the various stages of decomposition. The white of skulls reflected towards her, along with vertebrae, ribs, hips, and feet.
She jumped as Meg gave a yelp. After a respectful amount of time, the girls headed up the ladder, back into what was now the early evening. And what a sight they were! All were squinting, even in the soft sun of the evening. They were filthy-their feet and the bottoms of their pants were caked in unrecognizable grime. Their hair was wet and matted, and their faces were smudged with dirt.
The hailed a cab and laughed as they saw theconfusedexpression on the drivers face. The four dirty girls arrived safely at their hotel.
Their last day was spent at la Musée d'Erotisme, upon Carmen's suggestion. The suggestive pieces made Christine blush madly, and the raunchier ones even made Carmen lower her eyes.
After the museum, they arrived at the hotel for the last time and began to pack. They had reached the end of their stay in Paris and were off to the small city of Rennes, France where they were to have a one-night stay in the Château de Hac.