Background: Sometime in 2010 my dad started to put together a tour group for the 40th anniversary of Jim Morrison's death, which would take place in Paris, France. My dad kept telling me that I should go with him. But being a broke college student with no job I thought it was a nice thought, but that it just wouldn't be possible. Luckily, in the fall of 2010 my mom randomly decided to give me her old car. Since it was a no-strings-attached-kind-of-thing, I decided to take the lemon off of her hands. Once in posession of the lemon I decided that I should sell the POS (as you can tell, I really loved this car) so I could afford to go on this trip. That settled it. I sold the car in February to some "lucky" sucker. I was FINALLY sure that I was going to Paris and had the money that I needed to have a good time. One nice thing about this trip, was that my cousins, Blake and Melisa, were joining us. I'm so glad they came because they made this trip sooo much better.
We left Tuesday at 3:30am to make our 7 o'clock flight to Chicago. Now leaving at 3:30 in the morning really wasn't necessary, but Blake was really paranoid about missing our flight. Once we got to the airport we were all checked in by 5am. This meant that we had a two hour wait till our flight left. That was so incredibly boring! This was my first time flying so far from home that I was pretty anxious to leave. The farthest I had traveled before this was to California. During our two hour wait Blake, Melisa, and I wandered around the airport, got food, and messed around on the moving walkways. Jim Gaffigan talks about when he gets on the airport moving sidewalks saying that he feels bionic and makes the '6 million dollar man' noise, "dun-nun-nun-nun-nun". So throughout the trip, every time we would walk fast on the moving sidewalks, I would make that noise. That kept us pretty entertained and I'm sure the people we passed enjoyed it, too.
Finally 7 o'clock came around and we boarded our plane. That flight was pretty short and I didn't sleep at all since it was only like a three hour flight. I had to save my sleep time for the big nine hour flight. When we got to Chicago, Melisa was very confused and thought we were in Colorado. I wonder about that girl sometimes... She did think Paris was in Italy for a little while. We finally had to break the truth to her that Paris indeed was not in Italy and that they are completely different places. We had a six hour layover in Chicago. That airport is only cool for about two minutes and only if those two minutes are spent in the bathroom. Not because I was so relieved to finally pee, but because of
this. Other than that, this airport really sucks. Facebook even got boring after five minutes, but I thought I needed to take in as much Internet as possible. I didn't think the web was going to be as availiable in Europe. The first day of the trip really sucked. It consisted of A LOT of airports, ALOT of waiting and NO sleep. Before we boarded our plane my dad gave me a sleeping pill, but that pill didn't help at all. Ha ha! I don't even know why I took it. My sleep from Chicago to London was so scattered. I did learn a good lesson: One should not take a sleeping pill right when you get on a long plane ride because you will be woken up for dinner right after take off when you have just fallen asleep.
We got to London early in the morning and then immediately flew to Paris. Going through customs in England was so different. I can't even really explain it - it was probably so different to me cause it was my first time. I don't know how solo travelers do it. When we got to Paris around 2 in the afternoon, I was so exhausted and just wanted to nap. But that just wasn't an option quite yet... We had to go exchange our money for Euro's. On our way to get our money exchanged I looked up and saw this beautful building standing directly in front of me. You will recognize this work of art from 'The Phantom of the Opera', which is on my top ten favorite movies. So you could probably imagine my excitement.
Being building-stricken I so badly wanted to just drop everything and burst in through the doors singing "The Phantom of the Opera" but I didn't. And sadly we never actually had the chance to visit there. We trudged around the city for about a half hour and then came back to our hotel and settled in. My dad planned a welcome party for The Doors fans in our group at the hotel lobby. Blake, Melisa, and I were the youngest in our tour group and we weren't really "into The Doors" like the others, so we skipped out at 7:30pm and just went to bed. That was the earliest I have ever gone to bed in my entire life. I woke up at 11 a few hours later and was very confused because the sun had just BARELY set. I wasn't aware of how late the sun sets in Paris and I thought it was morning. I looked to my right and saw that my dad's bed was still untouched. That actually freaked the crap out of me. I was like, Great! I'm in the same country where human trafficking happens on a daily basis (I saw the movie 'Taken') ... and I don't even know where my dad is. He's probably dead. I rushed down to the lobby and found him there still talking it up with the other Doors fans. I was still confused so I gave him the extra room key and peaced out back to bed.
This a huge mausoleum where they place the dead people who lose their plots and are dug up. In Paris, you can't buy a cemetery plot - you can only lease them. When the rent is due on your ten year lease and no payment is made, they dig you up and put you in a corner of this building. Pere Lachaise is a very huge cemetery and is very packed. People are literally dying to get in... To be buried here for even fifty years costs thousands and thousands of dollars. There simply isn't enough room to have every "body" buried. To give you an idea of how big or small (depending on how you look at it) Pere Lachaise cemetery is, you can go here.
This is just another exampe of how intricate and bizarre their graves are. This work of art belongs to Oscar Wilde. I had no idea who he was until Michelle told us about him. I learned he was a famous Irish poet and playwrite who was gay and had to keep that a secret all his life. If you look closely you can see the pink and red spots all over the statue. Those are lipstick kisses of people who have come to visit his grave and pay their respects. The statue is of a weird looking naked cupid with wings. On the statue's package there is a plethora of kisses. Why someone would do that, I have no idea. Do you know how many poeple have kissed that statue? Way too many! I would be afraid of getting some weird disease. But that's just me...
