The trip to Paris started out with typical european threats of a trucker's
strike slated to start Friday morning at 9am. My plane left Verona
at 11am and I certainly didn't want to get stuck 
somewhere
intransit to the airport. The only choice was to stay up all night
Thursday night and catch the early 05h30 train in the morning. This
would get me into Verona at 06h30 in plenty of time to get to the airport
before the trucker's strike would start. This, of course, 
meant
that I would get into Paris with hardly any sleep at all.
The flight from Verona to Paris was uneventful on the Air Dolomiti flight. It was a small prop plane. We landed in Charles de Gaulle airport at about 13h30. From there I caught the Roissy bus into Place Opera and caught the metro from there to the hotel I was staying at near Miles apartment.
I walked into the hotel and up to the checkin desk. Lo and behold,
Julian was already at the bar waiting for me to show up. I checked
in, had a couple of beers with him, and then headed up to the room 
to
clean up for the evenings night out of drinking. The room at this
hotel was spartan at best, but at least I had a window that let in some
light.
Julian and I met up again at Cafe Oz on rue St. Denis. Then from
there we headed off to a pub where we would meet up with Miles and Greg.
Greg was coming in on a later flight so he wasn't expected before 21h00.
The pub was the old Dicey Riley's pub, renamed and remodelled. They
closed down the upstairs bar. That also used to be where the toilets
were. The toilets are no in the basement and is it small! 
Miles came into the pub sometime in the evening. We sat there drinking pints, complaining about how Mr. Babb was not on time again. I think Greg finally showed up sometime around 22h30, well after his appointed rendezvous time. Apparently the arabs at the hotel checkin desk called him a "white piece of trash." We had a good laugh over that one.
From
the pub we headed off to Baragouin <sp?> and had a couple of pints of
Meteor. At this point I was well tired from not sleeping the night
before. I bid everyone a good night and headed back to the hotel
to crash.
Saturday morning I woke up and headed out to do my gift shopping.
I needed to get the kids some souvenirs, a baseball cap for my friend Conor,
and also something for my friend Michela back in Trento. I stopped
first to get some postcards and then sat down and had a cafe while I filled
out the post cards. I posted them on the way to rue Rivoli where
I did my shopping. I returned to the hotel
and
washed up.
We wipes were supposed meet up sometime around lunch time. Miles was also going to bring his new girlfriend around today. When Greg finally showed up (see the trend here?) we headed on out for Bateaux Mouches to go for a ride around the Seine. We got off at Trocadero and took the obligatory photos of Tour Effiel from there. We got to the docks and there was a 40 minute wait until the next boat. So we headed over to see the memorial set up in memory of Princess Diana. I even got a shot of the underpass where the fatal accident happened.
We
hopped onto the boat and rode around. While the day wasn't too cold,
the wind was quite strong on the river. It was a bit chilly.
We stopped for a cafe after the boat ride. From there we headed
off back to our abodes to clean up for the evenings fete. We met
up again at Miles' apartment for some wine. From there we headed
off to Pigalle where we ate dinner at a french restaurant. The food
wasn't all that bad. 
From the restaurant we headed off to a french bar. This place was crowded. Another one of those packed bars where you can barely move and the air is thick with smoke. Finally around midnight we headed off for La Locomotive, a disco in the area. Luckily, the wipes were with Miles' girlfriend. I don't think we would've made it past the doorman if we were not in company with a girl.
La Locomotive is a pretty nice place. It has three levels of dance floors. The bottom most level was techno, mid-level was rock/pop and the top level was Carribean music (not necessarily just reggae).
There
were very many beautiful women at La Locomotive too.
Greg and I finally headed back to the hotel at some point in time in the evening. It may have been about 04h00 or so, I really don't remember.
Sunday morning I had to leave the hotel around 11h00 in the morning
if I was going to make my flight back to Verona in time. Greg and
I met up in the morning before I left. We said goodbye and I headed
off for my long trek back to Trento. With any luck, I would arrive
in Trento around 5pm.
As luck would have it, I arrived in Trento around 16h30. Conor and Ruggero picked me up from the train station. I was incredibly tired. I had about 11 hours of sleep in the past 4 days. We headed down to the pub and opened it up.
Michela came down to the pub later that evening. We sat around talking for a bit. Finally I walked her home and gave her the sweatshirt I got her (Universite Sorbonne). Then I had to head off to get some sleep. I think I slept almost 10 hours Sunday night.
I
find out a couple of days later that the other wipes ended up going on
a big pissup Sunday night too. Greg missed his plane back to Zurich.
Julian ended up crashing at Miles' place one more evening. What a
bunch of wipes.
All
in all it was a good trip. It was great being back in a big city
again with some good friends. We haven't planned out the Wipe Reunion
'98 yet. But there were whispers of Amsterdam flying about.
It took me a while to get this page up. And I have to apologize, but the weekend after I returned from Paris, I fractured my tibia in an accident while photographing friends mountain climbing. It put me into a full leg cast, which is not going to come off until December 29th. In time for the New Years.
But
I really could've done without having a cast. It has made life that
much more difficult. I've never had a cast before, and I am really
amazed at how immobile it can render someone. I will certainly be
more aware of people with a cast than I have been in the past.
Copyright @ 1997, Alexandre POLOZOFF. All Rights Reserved.