If you have no desire to see Guy Ritchie’s Revolver, you can skip the following paragraph:
I have to start this entry with an apology: the first draft of this entry was a huge long rambling panning of Guy Ritchie’s new movie, Revolver. I could not say enough bad stuff about this movie, and I generally like the movie going experience. I know people don’t want to read a rant, so it has been exorcized from the blog except for this short tirade. Guy Ritchie assumes his audience is idiotic and has no ability to analyze or understand a more than one-dimensional character. He has sadly proven to be a one trick pony, but that one trick (Lock Stock and Snatch) memory should not be tarnished by this absolutely abysmally horrible movie. There are fine moments, but these moments are quickly forgotten because of the surrounding material. Do not see this movie (I know this is will be very hard, I can’t imagine anything that would have prevented me from seeing this movie, but I wish something had, because this movie was totally pathetic and an utter waste of time and money).
Guy Ritchie haters can start here:
Okay! So with that introduction out of the way, I will now tell you that I went to go see this movie with Michele and Abbey. We were really meeting up here as a way to start Nuit Blanche, or White Night. This is the fourth annual event were, in lieu of sleep, Parisians keep everything that makes this city an icon (museums, libraries, monuments, tourist traps, gardens, places of worship etc…) open all night and party citywide. It is the ultimate welcome to Paris.
We started the night at the Biblioteque by the movie theater, where there was excited crowd around an exhibit of black light art serving free food and wine. Michele and Abbey had also brought wine in their water bottles, so we enjoyed this exhibit for a while before heading to Chatalete via Metro. The metro was packed with people, and Michele and Abbey had to artfully dodge flirtatious teenage boys by pretending to be Spanish. That may sound weird, but everyone speaks English so by only speaking Spanish they limited the conversation.
We got off at Chatalete that was a sea of people. We waited for Abbey’s roommate (Hilary) and filled up on Sangria at this very cool but too popular Tapas bar. We killed off the Sangria, then moved (en masse with the crowd) into Chatalete where Michele dragged us to the thumping of a Brazilian dance music, then past some insane mime performance with a projector, to the carousel, then to some African drums, to Pompidou, to a Church with a light show and Chihuly-esque chandeliers, and then to Hotel de Ville.
Yes, we ran a gambit. Yes, it was mind-blowing, and yes I listed it like that because it would take pages to describe how amazing each place was. I’ll put up pictures later.
I could write a whole separate entry on what happened next, but I’ll try to keep it short. First, you must understand that the metros close at the unreasonable hour of 1 and do not open until 5:30. Next you must know that the dorms are too far from Paris proper to walk. Lastly, you should know that a rainstorm rolled in. The buses were the best option left, but they were packed like the ones in India and Africa, with people hanging off the tops and sides, until the police took them off. Even if they weren’t overcrowded, the bus stops for me is pretty far from the dorms and were breaking down, and I don’t know that area well enough yet.
2:30am After about an hour and a half of bus waiting, I gave up and decided that Taxis are now the best option.
3am Walked for a while and I got a pizza but no taxi. I can’t feel my feet and I’m soaked, and the pizza isn’t sitting well. Waving down a taxi does not work tonight.
3:30am Asked police for a taxi stop and I found it right on the Seine by Notre Dame (which has a large projected Jesus on it). I was not moving (except from deserters). Several shady cars some by waving people in. No one is foolish enough.
4am Found a new taxi line I don’t remember where. It starts getting very cold, so I fold my arms under my jacket. Some Americans down the line start panicking about being stuck downtown. The French people stare at them, and I try not to. I am joined by a group of fluent French speaking students from Sorbonne, Georgetown and Holy Oak. There is a café and bar next door, so at least I have some good company and sustenance.
5:30am Taxi comes, and I am on my way!
6am Sweet Sweet sleep.
11am Yili wakes me up, asking if I want to eat. I don’t think it was a polite no. Today we have a tour and conversation with a French advisor at 12, so I get up anyway.
The rain stymied the tour, but the conversation as great fun. I was told to watch out for eye contact, because apparently that is flirting here. I don’t believe it. Our advisor will serve as our extra-curricular chief in command in Paris and we talked about activities we would like to do.
After the conversation, some fellow students meet up and we talk food. I play tour guide and lead us to Place de la Contrescarpe (home sweet home) to the old haunt Café Delmas then the Egytian Salon. We had an amazing time with Sarah, Monica, Yili, Daniella, Michelle, Mia and Lauren (Abbey and Hilary joined us at the Hookah bar). Martyna Majok (I use her last name because she sounds like a magician if you call her Martyna MAGIC!!!) was a leading proponent of this outing, but she totally missed us when we left, and has a sad story to go with that.
We come across a storefront climbing gym on Rue de Ecole that I will have to show in a picture and definitely will check out later.
I am trying to keep the entries factual, to keep them short and sweet, but informative. As classes start and I don’t get to go out as much, things will become more detailed.
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