Paris...the second installment

I took so many pictures in Paris...it's difficult to choose the ones to post. This visit, I took more commentary shots, more 'arty' shots, and yes, because Metro was with me, more touristy shots. And he even took the camera, or asked me to take something specific at times. (Since he bought the camera for me, I guess I shouldn't complain!)

Okay, so on to the photos. First off, some commentary. Here we have what I like to call my bling greyhounds. A matching set of dogs, with matching bling-studded, blue collars. (Lori-watchers, take note of my first use of that annoying neologism, 'bling'. It took some rather cute, spoiled dogs to do it, but I've use it!)

Parisian dogs...they come in all sizes. Parisian dog owners...they come in all types. Some even pick up after their pooch. And some of les chiens de Paris are fed some really weird stuff, from the evidence.





It was in Paris in 2002 that I saw my first Smart car. Wow, it was so cute, so small! Since then, I've ridden in one, and they are becoming a common sight on the streets of Vancouver. This is good.

If you can't read the printing on the side of the car, it says: "2.5 metres of parking pleasure for 5.50 Euros a day."



And, my fave new thing this trip...the space-cycle. Okay, I don't know what they're really called, but how cool is this thing?!? Note the seat belt. You can't see on this picture, but there is a passenger seat on the back, on the outside of the thing.

Hmm. Not as romantic a ride as on the back of a regular motorcycle...

[Note also, Notre Dame de Paris in the background. This was on the corner of our block.]



One day, we took the metro to Porte de Clignancourt, and the enormous, 15-acre Marche de Puce (Flea Market).

On the outskirts, you've got the people who set up on the sidewalks and side streets, capitalizing on the shoppers headed to the heart of the district. It is a warren of streets and alleys with pretty much everything for sale.



And cemetaries.

I had a bit of a pilgrimage to undertake, at the Pere Lachaise Cemetary (follow the link, it is [after a bit of playing around] the bestest virtual tour I've ever seen...you can actually walk through the graveyard, or search for famous graves. Cool. ). You see, in 2002, I had visited the tomb of Alain Kardec, the spiritualist (all of the best sites I could have linked to were in Portuguese, there is a large Brazilian spiritualist movement). Supposedly, if you wish on his grave, and your wish comes true, you must bring flowers to him. Well, over 3 years ago, I made some kind of last-ditch, hey-I'm-getting-on-in-years-here, romantic wish...and 6 months later I met Metro. So we had to leave flowers for Kardec.

Also at Pere Lachaise: Heloise and Abelard, Chopin, Wilde, Balzac, Colette, Isadora Duncan...the list goes on and on...down to the most insignificant grave stone which is probably the most visited: Jim Morrison (the one with the flowers).

And don't forget Victor Noir, a journalist, whose tomb is a life-size version of himself, fully clothed. Women rub a certain part of his anatomy for fertility luck...

Whew! More another day. I have to go pick up a load of boxes, and start culling (sob!) and packing my books.

Lori