Paris, Day 1

My saga begins at CVS in Charlottesville. I want to buy earplugs for the night because I will be sleeping on the plane. The system doesn't recognize the PIN for my check card. Hmm. I re-enter it. Same thing. What the hell? So the employee rings it up as a credit: no PIN needed. I forget about it, take my earplugs home and finish packing.

I check in early to my flight at Charlottesville Airport. I always like to travel with cash so I hit the ATM. PIN is invalid. WTF?? This is the same PIN that has been working for months. So I call the bank. They will send me a new PIN in 5-7 business days, which won't help me when I am on the road. No problem, they say. Take your check card to any bank in France that displays the "Visa" logo, and you can get a cash advance against your check-card, free. Cool.

I fly to Dulles and check into my Air France flight. I start thinking about banks... are they open on Saturdays in France? How about Sundays? I have no idea. Realizing that I may still need that cash I hit one of the exchange services in the airport. They gouge me for 18%. Dang. So I limit my withdrawal to 100 Euros. Part of me feels better now; another part of me realizes I was just robbed.

The trans-Atlantic flight is uneventful, except that sleep comes lightly. Air France is clean, efficient and friendly, by the way. Why is this so difficult for American carriers? We land at Charles De Gaulle airport about 11 am -- that's 5 am to my body, which is feeling it.

The taxi to Noisy Le Grand (a concrete block of a suburb East of Paris) is 65 Euros. And he doesn't take plastic. Crud. There goes most of my cash. Now I need to get an advance on my check card. The hotel receptionist shows me on a map where the nearby banks are. I hoof it with map in one hand and Berlitz phrase-book in the other. I enter four banks and using my phrase-book I say, "Je voudrais obtenir une avance en liquide." Four times I am denied, because I don't have an account at that bank.

Now, the whole purpose of Visa is that participating institutions are able verify bank balances and assist people like me. So a big F-U to Visa. Those banks too. Lying scumbags.

By this time my stomach is getting the best of me so I enter the shopping mall next door to the hotel. There is a cafe with a sandwich menu. I can't read or speak French but I see "gruyere" so I know there will at least be cheese on it. Turns out that it is ham & cheese, served in the traditional French style with butter on a baguette. Well, it isn't vegetarian but since I don't know how to explain this to her I pay for it with my Visa.

Oops... cash only. There goes 5 more Euros.

The sandwich is delicious, of course, and at least my stomach isn't distracting me anymore from obtaining cash. The next hour is spent on the phone (in my hotel room -- my cell doesn't have a European roaming plan...) with my bank and Visa, who are trying to arrange an "emergency cash delivery" to me. Somehow I doubt it will happen.

Screw it. I'm hitting Paris.

I go to the station and buy a 2-day all-access pass for 27 Euro. At least they take Visa. I catch the RER to Les Halles station and emerge onto one of the busiest modern shopping streets in the city: Rue De Rivoli. It is already about 4pm so I am limited in terms of what museums I can visit. The crowd crushes me like Times Square.

I cross the Boulevard de Palais bridge and stand in line to see Sainte Chapelle. Denied. Tickets must be purchased in the morning. I head over a few blocks to the Cathedral of Notre Dame.

Whoa. Just whoa.

Notre Dame is impressive. The cathedral is massive, imposing and beautiful. I feel tiny and insignificant. The outside of the building is ornate in a way that I haven't noticed from photos. The inside is just as magnificent: thousands of works of art woven together into a whole that makes me feel like no matter what I accomplish in my short time on Earth that it will not compare to the beauty of just a corner of cathedral.

Back on the metro to the Musee d'Orsay. It is just closing. What?? I check the time: nearly 6. Crap, I am quickly running out of options. Well, I know the Eiffel Tower stays open very late, so I heard back down into the Metro station and over to the Champ de Mars station.

Now if you have never seen the Eiffel Tower, like I hadn't, you might be surprised at how big it is. I mean we have all seen pictures, of course, but it is really big. Humongous. It's enormity is dwarfed only by the line of about 1000 people waiting to go up it. Oh well. I decide to stay. THIS I will do.

Hey what are those police with those big machine guns doing? Looks like they are pushing people back from the line. Huh? Oh crap, they are closing the Tower. I don't know how to ask why, and even if I could I wouldn't understand the answer. They tape off the bottom. Maybe a jumper? Who knows. Damn. Denied again.

Back to the metro, I ride to Charles de Gaulle Etoile station near the Arc d'Triomphe. The arc stands in the middle of a vey busy traffic circle, and stands over the Tomb of the Unknown soldier from WWI. It is an impressive monument. I decide to stroll down the Champs Elysees, which is another busy shopping district. Many stores you would see in New York or San Francisco are here, in addition to a lot of cafes. Pretty cool. I like the energy.

I spot a money changer. I allow them to rape me again for 18%. At least I have cash.

I continue down to the Place de Concorde and enter the Hotel Crillon, which is home to a bar that Ernest Hemmingway used to frequent. I finally sit, and enjoy a nice French wine and some wasabi peas at the bar. I would love to engage in some small talk but no one speaks English. It is about 9pm. Time to head back to the hotel.

In summary, my first day in Paris was like being ten years old again. I didn't speak the same language as the grown-ups, I didn't have a cell phone, I had no money, and I didn't know the terrain. Being so disconnected is weird in this modern wired world.

But Paris is wonderful.