I was up late last night writing. By the time I had written out all my thoughts for the day, it was 3am.. and that was before I had begun to write my analysis of the artwork I had seen that day. So I put the laptop away and eventually got to sleep, as visions of paintbrushes danced in my head. Then of course the, er, mid-morning sun kickstarted my desire to just start spewing art analysis again. I thought and I looked, I typed and I erased, I read and I quoted, I edited and I rewrote. Then I had some baguette and jam. Then I copied and I pasted, I formatted and I coded, I resized and I resaved, I drafted and I reread, I published and I modified. Then after 5 more hours I decided it was good enough. Not great, but good enough. I really need start spacing out my Louvre visits if I’m ever going to get anything done.
Now it was coming up on 4pm and we hadn’t decided on anything to to today. It’s Saturday, after all. I can’t just stay in typing, can I? I was looking at the Paris canal cruises recently and remembered that some of them are just until the end of August, and this being the last weekend in August we figured it would be good. Plus who wouldn’t like sitting on a boat for a few hours watching the world go by?
This is by far the longest and strangest tour I have ever been on. Turns out, which I should have thought through, the canal tour goes from the 19th to downtown, which is down a big big hill. This means, lots of locks. Lots and lots. And by lots, I mean there were like 20 of them. And locks take forever to empty. So this crazy tour consisted basically of us moving forward 50 ft and then sitting around for 15 minutes, the repeating again and again. The first couple of locks were kindof nice, the first big one was reaaally big, and people walking around on the street kindof gathered to watch it go, which was fun. Then, the next couple were nice as we got to watch people milling about on the quays; picnicing, playing bocce or ping pong, cycling, dog walking. After a while, it got pretty tedious, especially when the view of the quays changed to makeshift hobo shanties and piles of garbage. Plus, not to nitpick, but the tour was advertised as completely bilingual but there were only about 10 words in English thrown in for every 100 French words. I know I can’t expect to hear things in English here… but when it’s advertised..! Ah, now we’ve gone down 24 metres. Now we can get going. Hey, what’s this cool underpass? Oh this is neat.. and dark… hey how far does it go? Oh, half the length of the tour, great. Really, what a shame that any traversing of the downtown/historical area is completely underground in a damp, dark cobbled tube. Oh well, being forced to do nothing but sit with my SO for 2.5h and point and laugh at things, not so bad!
Trapped on a ship with me..
Once we emerged from our our *ahem* adventure, we decided to get on a vélib and try to make our way uphill. I got about halfway before I decided I needed a break, so we parked our vélos and walked around the 20th enjoying the buzz of Parisian nightlife spilling out onto the streets. We also found a place that has honestly the best falafel I’ve ever had. Score! We wandered around some more until we found the energy to bike the rest of the way home.