29. Post, Orsay and Sacré!

Compared to other days, today was relatively calm. 

It started with me attempting to mail some purchases back home, and boy was that interesting. I had done a bit of research and Paris post offices, and it thought I knew what was going on, going in. Nope. That was a total figment of my imagination. 

I arrive at the post office, and immediately realize that I am the only English speaking person in at least a 40 step radius, and the post office only holds 20 steps. I managed to charades my way through asking for a box and three envelopes. Gold. Then I go to pay for just the literal box and literal envelopes, thinking that I pay for them, literally, then I put stuff in them, and then they're weighed and I pay for that and the address they're going to.

When the lovely, patient woman at the cash asked me to give her €48 for the empty box and envelopes, I was... confused. Luckily, a lovely man, who saw the disaster about the unravel, offered his translation skills and after speaking to the ladies on behalf of ignorant little me, helped me to understand that you pay for a flat weight rate per container, and put whatever you want in it, and can ship it to wherever, as long as it doesn't weight more than the specified weight. 

Thank goodness for that guy! 

Fine, went ahead with all of that, filled out the customs forms and all, and after an hour, a full hour at the post office, I was off and about my day!

The good news is that this is the post office! It's tucked in the bottom left of what's out of frame here, but it's in this building! Beautiful.

From there, fully relieved from now understanding-ish how to ship things from Paris, carried on my walk to Musée d'Orsay, recommended to me by many friends back home.

I walked, and walked, and knew I was getting closer once I passed the Louvre, and then just hoped that I would see a sign that told me where this place was, because it seemed an awefully long walk. Along the sign-searching walk, I decided to take a break from that and walk beside the water. It's a little hidden gem, and I quite enjoyed it.

And then all of the right signs converged, leading me to the museum.

Never in my life have I seen so many "Do not take photographs" signs, literally, but I snuck a few. I wasn't a jerk like some people, taking picturs of the actual art, but I wanted one of the lobby, which is below.

I accidentally came across this effing ballroom that you can... uhhh... rent for a special occasion? 

There is no occasion in my life that could ever warrant such a room. Like, even if I managed to pull off getting that city polygamist marriage law to pass, and I got to marry Edinburgh, Paris and Toronto simultaneously, and Kanye RSVP'd, and showed up to the event... even then, this room would be too much.

After my stomach growled at me for a good hour, I figured I should feed that whiny baby. I went to the restaurant in the museum, and not only was it beautiful, but it was delicious. 

I had a salad with shrimp, mango, grapefruit, lettuce, bean sprouts and a tangy dressing. But the best part was the dessert. It was an orange pie, with whole sliced of orange, peel and all. Below is the restaurant and then the pie!

This is a huge floor to ceiling clock just outside of the restaurant, and below that is the view from the rooftop.

While this is very random, even more random was discovery that these are made of a rubber, not glass. I don't remember if it's some type of silicone or what, but I want one! They were way too pricy, but I'm going to keep an eye on the artist online and see what their progression is like. Who knows, maybe they have a sale once a year?

After I managed to peel myself away from that table, I ventured out on the Metro, up to Sacré Coeur, a massive, massive church on top of what I would describe as the hill from all of the hells.

I was warned of the hills from the lovely woman I'm staying with, but I was not prepared. Anyhow, this is a stunning building, way up on the top of a massive leg-pain-inducing hill, but it's all worth it when you see it up close.

I found an old carousel that had just finished it's trip for the kiddies, so I took some pictures. 

The woman running it did not at all seem trained for the job, let alone dealing with humanity, so it's good news that I don't have any kids!

This guy agrees!

Then, folks, I essentially got lost. I mean, I knew I was in Paris, so that's good news!

I walked, found some fun shops that I otherwise wouldn't have come across, ate some food that I never would have eaten, and saw some crazies that would have been left out of my life had I not gone some random route, and even up to now, safe and sound at "home", I don't know where I was.

I asked a lovely guy we a shop that I bought a bag from where the nearest Metro (not groceries) was. He advised, I followed, but not before I ate at this place. Well, I got some food to go and ate as I found my way to the Metro.

And while I finally managed to find the Metro, get on the right one, find a seat, an announcement came on and said some French stuff that I didn't understand. Turns out it was an announcement that the one and only stop that I needed was not in service. 

Amazing. 

I got out at some random stop, at which I knew nothing and had no idea where I was. Cool beans. I took it as a fun little night walk, but then it quickly became a, "Soooooo, I've seen that shop three times... where is WEST!?" night walk. 

Taxi's are a wonderful thing, is all I'll say about that.

And so now I relax, eat some pistachios and head to bed. Tomorrow I'll be the Pompidou Centre and then I'll come up with we more fun. Until then!