No jet lag… but I woke up at 3:30 AM an can’t get back to sleep. So I will use this time to collect my thoughts and share the start of my Paris adventure.
I’m in Paris for 8 days… for a week of working with the good folks at 4D Inc. Yeah, it’s a tough job… I got lucky to get this trip.
Left Sacramento Saturday, and happily my flight schedule fit nicely with Alex’s return from visiting his grandparents in Houston. His Continental flight arrived an hour before my Delta flight departed — just four gates away from mine! Michele and I had left him with my folks on our way back from Grand Cayman a few weeks ago, and we were glad to see him. He had a great time with grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles, but was clearly happy to be home. After lots of hugs, and hearing about his trip, we said our goodbyes. Alex and Michele went on their way, and I started on mine.
The flights were pleasant, thanks in no small part to my employer’s former parent company’s policy of allowing employees to fly business class for international travel. Sacramento to Atlanta was first class, and the Air France leg was business class.
Air France really knows how to take care of their passengers. I was greeted by a friendly French flight attendant, and immediately had an opportunity to start practicing the French I’ve been trying to learn the past few weeks. I made a valiant effort at responding to her “Bonjour!” but couldn’t get past that… I suddenly forgot every other French word I’d learned. She switched to English, and was kind enough to help me with my attempts at speaking French throughout the flight. Between the huge seats with electronic controls for adjusting the seat recline and footrest, the wonderful four-course dinner, five hours of uninterrupted sleep, and a tasty breakfast, I hardly noticed the length of the flight.
First note about jet lag — I took 3 mg of melatonin at about 9:30 PM Atlanta time (which is 6:30 PM Folsom time), as recommended by numerous sources to help my body adapt to the time zone change I was about to experience. I limited myself to just a glass of wine with dinner, and when I woke up after about five hours of sleep and another hour of snoozing, I felt quite refreshed and alert. So far the melatonin thing seemed to be working.
As we approached the airport, I got a nice few of the countryside. I saw farms, villages, suburbs, and all is just as I expected after several years of watching Le Tour de France on TV.
Arrival at the Charles DeGaulle Airport was initially uneventful. The flight was only a few minutes late, but once landed, we were unable to deplane for over 20 minutes. As best I can figure the guy who had to drive the tow truck to pull the plane the last 10 meters to the final parking place was on a coffee break. Finally though the plane parked, and we were able to deplane, and then onto buses for the trip to the terminal.
The bus driver had trouble getting one of the doors closed, which provided some humor for us, an international group of passengers crammed in like a can of sardines. After numerous attempts success was achieved, everyone cheered, and then we were taken on quite a scenic tour of the airport. It seemed as though we drove miles around, though and between various buildings, terminals, and airplanes. At one point, the bus stopped, backed-up, and turned around. Everyone started grumbling and groaning, thinking our driver had gotten lost. But, we had actually arrived at the right place, and quickly jumped from the bus and proceeded on the walk to immigration.
A quick stamp in my passport and I was on my way to get my one suitcase from baggage claim, and then find a taxi. My taxi driver was friendly but spoke only a few words of English — not a problem! I’d written down my hotel address… and we were on our way! I tried out a few more phrases I’d practiced (”How are you?” and “This traffic is crazy.”), which went OK, and got some laughs from the driver.
The traffic wasn’t too bad into Paris. My hotel is a block off of the famous Champs Elysées, and I got an up-close look at the Arc deTriumphe and many of the up-scale shops, cafes, and auto dealerships along the boulevard. Finally we arrived at the hotel, I said Au Revoir to my driver, and checked in.
The hotel is small and clean, as is my room. It’s comfortable and air conditioned, and will suit me fine.
Note 2 about jet lag — I’m still feeling good, plenty of energy. At this point I’m wondering if this is due more to the excitement and adrenaline, or my planning with the melatonin.
I decide to stick to my plan, and quickly unpack, grab the camera, phrase book, map, and head out to explore. As is my practice from travel in Asia many years ago, I like to spend my first few hours walking, getting familiar with the city, the people, and the vibe.
The Eiffel Tower looms large and is nearly always visible.

I snapped a quick shot on the Champs Elysées during a break in traffic. That’s the Arc de Triumphe in the distance.

Paris is getting ready for the Tour de France. All along the Champs Elysées barricades and seating is being erected.


I saw a spectacular structure, and decided to head over to investigate.

This is the Grand Palais, and is much of the exterior is being renovated (note the scaffolding).
Across the street, another amazing building, the Petit Palais.



There are many, many statues.



Here are a few shots of the Pont Alexander III (Pont is “bridge”).


The Assemblée Nationale:

Status of Thomas Jefferson:

The famed Musée de Louvre:


By now, I’d walked a few miles, and was starting to get a bit tired. So I began heading back in the direction of the hotel. Along the way I stopped and got a sherbert ice cream cone from a sidewalk vendor — cool and refreshing.
After a short break at the hotel, I ventured out again. I had a salad, beer, and decaf espresso at a bistro near the hotel, walked a bit more in the area and found a nice shopping center which is having an exhibition of original Dali sculptures (didn’t have the camera with me at this point).
Deciding a dessert would be nice, I parked myself at a very pleasant cafe in the shopping center. This cafe is outdoor, and has a large wall with a waterfall and fountain which is quite calming, and seemed to cool the air. I ordered another decaf espresso, and a small chocolate mousse and raspberry mouse combo. Quite good. Both this cafe and the earlier bistro were populated primarily by locals, so I guess these were good finds.
I brought with me to Paris a few of the Cuban cigars I brought back from Grand Cayman a few weeks ago. Background here… every year in Grand Cayman I enjoy about a half-dozen Cuban cigars, and bring back another half-dozen or so with me. SInce Parisians are known for being smokers, I brought them with me for precisely the situation I was enjoying — the perfect finale to a fine meal, watching all the people, enjoying the vibe.
I was a bit nervous though about smoking around so many people. The past three years in California where smoking in public is not allowed have conditioned me I guess. Amazingly though, nobody paid me any attention… my cigar smoke mingled well with all the cigarettes burning at nearby tables I suppose.
Note 3 on jet lag — by now I was feeling tired, and ready for sleep. A quick walk back to the hotel, a nice hot shower, and I crawled into bed. Sleep came easily.
And then I woke easily a few hours ago, much earlier than I would like to be awake, but after trying and failing to get back to sleep, I started this entry… which I will now end, as I must get ready to start my day. More later…