An evening in Paris-9th Sept

Glorious sunset. Laced the wannabe Paris Eye (just a wheel really) with its battery of reluctant-to-leave rays and turned it into a magnificent work of art.

The beautiful sky. Draped in hues of orange and pink. The kind that makes you do a 360 degrees marvelling at nature.

Champs Elysees. Stealing some and getting the ground its fair share of glamour, light and color. The sprawling n sparkling avenue is called the most beautiful avenue in the world and according to us, it surely lived upto its reputation.

Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder and what our eyes showed us were dazzling lights, places that define fine-dine, shopping arcades that spell class, perfumeries & chocolateurs luxuriously humouring fabulously dressed people (and here, my eyes obviously wasted not a second on people who came anywhere close to looking like punks with pink hair & pierced bodies...like aunties who combined saris with sports shoes...like scruffy smelly strangers...you get the picture right? Essentially other ordinary plebians. Needless to add, mirrors and reflections were duly avoided to prevent self from cringing).

I think I saw all the brands I thought I knew and more, which simply deserved to be known coz they were on Champs Elysees. (Note: not to be confused with Champs On Lease, the galli just behind New Rambo Gym that produces (third) world class wrestlers!- the correct pronunciation for the lovely avenue, if written in German style English (where each letter written was in dire need of intonation), would be- Schaunz Eleez) Of course you'd still sound silly saying it without a natural or cultivated French accent. Think the easiest way to not offend someone French would be to say "oh..we went to the most beautiful avenue in the world"-they would understand and also be more likely to be amenable to your lowly existence :)

Arc de Triomphe was spectacular as well and thanks to the misadventure with the bus (we waited for over 40 minutes for the bus back to our hostel, only to realize that buses stop operating after 9 on weekends) & my stubborn hostility towards the Metro (just had this image of it being a shady and unsafe place to be at night-not true, btw), we got to see the Eiffel Tower at night-all lit up, resplendent and awe-inspiring. There's even a brief period when the lights flicker and you feel there are 1000 people celebrating Diwali on the Tower -the Sparkler effect is really something else.

I think G was really on the verge of losing it because I was steadily veering in the direction of "lets take a cab and just get to the hostel" (which obviously was a violation of the "if-you-are-on-a-budget-trip-act-like-you-are-on-one rule"). A local couple came to her rescue and they seemed earnest and reliable enough for me to pay heed to their advice to just take the Metro. We did and reached the hostel in 15 mins :)

The comedy of errors that followed looked something like this. G & S go to the kitchen (same place where we had breakfast) to heat dinner and realize that the door was locked. So they trudge up the stairs and tell the French receptionist that they need help since the door was locked. He says-no it isnt locked-just give it a gentle push-it should open. G & S run down the stairs and use all might to give the damn door not so gentle pushes and shoves and continue to do so until they become scared that they might be accused of breaking down the door and made to pay. Thankful that no one was paying particular attention to this drama, they run up to the lobby again-and since both G & S pride themselves on being mega intelligent souls, they decide there must be another way to the kitchen, so they go down the other way, but lo and behold that door is sealed-it might have opened to the street, once upon a time-you could tell. But it is not the door to the kitchen, that too, you could tell. So after completing a virtuous circle that only serves to make the tummies rumble louder, G&S decide to approach the receptionist again. The receptionist looks at them quizzically and decides he needs to intervene. 4 confident steps later, he shows G&S the "kitchen" which they had passed some 20 times in their hunt.

Hurt, but still defiant, S asks what he meant by pushing the door a little harder, since the door was already open. At this, the receptionist calmly points to the microwave!! (he thought we couldnt open the microwave??!!) G, S and the receptionist look at each other and burst out laughing. We murmur "Merci boku" (thank you very much)-though "moorkh bewakoof" would apply better to all the participants in this drama.

The evening ended with a desi delight-kadhi chawal! Long Live Kohinoor and its makers. Bless them-for what could give greater joy to the soul than yummy kadhi chawal enjoyed on the steps of Montmartre-the slight chill in the air making us savour each hot bite a little more. Yeah, we were in love with Paris. But the Dil remained firmly Hindustani :)

Traveller's Tip #1-When strolling down the Champs Elysees, keep an eye open for street vendors-they end up selling 3 eiffel tower keychains for 1 euro! Good gifts for sundry junta :P

Traveller's Tip #2- Be mindful of time schedule differences for buses, between weekends and weekdays. And it is safe to take a metro around 10-11 pm (I see G smirking)

Traveller's Tip #3- Do not eat on the streets-even if its the small pack of French Fries-you wont get ticked off. Verbally that is! Sit and finish your meal. Remember this is the prim and proper land and you dont really want to stand out any more than you do by virtue of your tone (both skin & accent!)