RICK'S BIG TRIP page 16 Have you heard about the food at the Louvre? On my second day in the Louvre, I had lunch at the restaurant Richeleiu, right there in the Richelieu wing, next to the rooms excessively decorated by the Napoleons. Another little French feast: salad with every tasty little ingredient you would want, two pieces of toast, one covered with a basil paste, the other with an olive paste. Cup of tea, the works. Very affordable, highly recommended.
And now, for Darren, and all my head-banging wild party animal friends who, like me, are really just nice fella’s with all that pent-up frustration that comes with being nice. This is for all my friends who (unlike me) love Jim. There I am, sitting in front of Jim Morrison’s neatly tucked away low-end grave. This picture was taken for me by another American Jim-seeker, with another fan standing in the backround. A little gathering of maybe a dozen, all Americans. Cemetery guards standing by, making sure nobody did anything disrespectful – like sitting down. The grave itself is covered with sand, with offerings mixed in, including a silver ring, a few flowers, a few neatly rolled cigarettes, and a whole lot of cigarette butts – you see, the grave doubles as a momorial site and ashtray. Jim would’ve wanted it that way.
While I was in the Pere Lachaise cemetery, I also stopped by another pathetic musician whom even I could respect. This is the tomb of Chopin. You see, a good collection of fresh bouquets – even though he’s been dead quite some time now. I didn’t see exactly where the tomb visitors deposited their cigarette butts around this one.
And as long as we’re on the subject of entombment, let’s head right over to the tomb of Napoleon. Wow, did they do it up nice for his dead little carcass. This great red stone wonder is the centrepiece of one of Paris’s most beautiful cathedrals, entirely handed over to the little imperialist and his closest (dead) associates. Who else has done more to make France a world-renowned cultural center? Most fella’s, you know, who want to take over the world, are personally responsible for thousands of innocent deaths, get a pretty bad rap in the end. But there ain’t no aura of shame here. National hero.
When I bought the ticket to the Musee de l’Armee, attached to Napoleon’s tomb, I didn’t know what it was! In the Hotel des Invalides… Invalids? Arm-? Must be some museum dedicated to the poor (arm-) invalids – how nice. No dummy! Armée is Army! What would you expect to find attached to Napoleon’s tomb but the tools of violent confrontation? There are hundreds – maybe thousands – of cannons, from every period. The line pictured here all bear the scrolly insignia of the Emperor Napoleon. What’s especially endearing is that they all have names; the one in the foreground for instance is affectionately named “l’Hostile.” Can somebody please translate that for me? It’s a truly massive collection. I think there is enough knights’ armor there to overtake a large mid-western city. And hey moms! They come in kids’ sizes too!
The most colorful cathedral I’ve seen so far was the Sainte-Chapelle, right on that island in the Seine. Stained glass, night-blue walls with golden stars. You don’t see a lot of this stained glass up in the north, where it’s been ripped out by rampaging protestants. This one probably survived because the whole church is surrounded by an outer building – it sits inside the courtyard of the Hall of Justice. I took a wrong turn while going to see this one, and found myself walking around in hallways with folks wearing long black robes, talking on cell phones. Stupid tourist.
Last thing before I rocketed out of Paris was this: a visit to the Cluny Museum. Old medieval stuff. Nice collection. The tapestry on the right is just one example. You can’t really make it out in this tiny picture…
…but this is unique. The tapestry comes with a tactile aid for the blind. The figures of the tapestry are all carved onto wood blocks of various heights, so even the blind can “get the picture.” Interesting.
Parting shots of Paris. Did I forget to complain about the unbelievably crowded, humid, hellish subway system that’s pretty much a necessity for getting anywhere? It was bad. Five days I could manage, but I knew that if I had to stay any longer, I’d be seriously wondering about the value of life on this planet. I photographed this typical city degenerate safely from the other side of the subway tracks. Those are two tiny unleashed dogs he’s got with him, who scurry about the crowds faithfully keeping to the heels of their master. Each one has one crippled, useless hind leg (how could that have happened?), but the pups still manage to keep up. I suppose when the other leg goes that’s the end of the line. Ik vind het zielig voor die honden!
And did I mention that Paris, like other big cities, has ugly little deposits of waste – like this ledge over the Seine? Just enough space for people to throw their cigarette boxes and soda bottles; nobody’s job to clean up.
	But at a distance, yes, at a distance it is all very lovely. So long Paree, I’m goin’ back to the farm.
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