Homer’s Paris (Alexandros/Alexander) is pinched by contradiction. The Illiad presents him as deeply flawed, hung somewhere between magnificence and a train-wreck. The lad blamed for starting the Trojan War by kidnapping Helen—“the face that launched a thousand ships”—is feckless. His brother Hector, exasperated, curses him:
“They thought you the bravest champion we could field.
and just because of the handsome luster on your limbs.
but you have no pith, no fighting strength inside you” (The Illiad 3.40-45).
Paris is smitten by the terrible beauty of Helen. Image from here: https://www.historytoday.com/miscellanies/helen-whore-and-curse-beauty (accessed 9/27/2022).
I pondered the differences between appearance and reality as I rode the Big Bus. It was a dim morning in the City of Lights. Mist hung in the air. For a moment it turned to rain and wet my skin. From our perch on the top deck of the Big Bus there was just enough windshield to keep us dry if the bus kept rolling. Vicki was well wrapped. Her hood was on her head; her umbrella was in her hand. It was her first time in Paris and we hoped that the Big Bus would give us a fair introduction. We dialed the headsets to 2: English. The narrative was witty and informative and timed to the pace of the bus.
I was weathered on the occasion of my last visit. I was alone, had just finished a Spanish Camino, and was brittle brown from the Spanish sun. Now we were together, soggy and jetlagged, but together and determined.
The Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris was not how I remembered. We wheeled by the Gothic monument. Three years ago a terrible fire engulfed the oak trusses of its roof and collapsed portions of the nave. The tourists stood outside a barricade shooting selfies in the rain. Scaffolding engulfed its outline like spiderwebs.
The Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris was not as I remembered.
The Big Bus continued. We crossed the bottom end of the Champs-Élysées, where the largest public square in the city is located. From one side of the bus we could fully appreciate the Luxor obelisk standing in the center. Word has it that King Louis Philippe obtained this fine piece of pointed granite for France by swapping a clock with the Pasha (I guess the Pasha had obelisks to spare; he just didn’t have the time).
Of course, here at the square we calculated other notable losses. For example, Marie Antoinette’s head. I tried not to think about that too much. I was just happy to see something from ancient Egypt generally and Ramses II particularly (we were scheduled to do the Louvre on another day).
Unfortunately, opposite the obelisk at the Place de la Concorde the civic crew was hard at work erecting some kind of platform with an enormous background. It was large enough to obscure the view to Paris’s famous axis (the axe historique), a line of sight that stretches across the city. Perhaps more public executions are scheduled? Emmanuel Macron is in a bit of trouble, I hear.
The Luxor Obilisk stands at the lower end of the Champs-Élysées.
At the top of the Champs, we hopped off for a view to the Arc de triomphe and to hunt down some French crêpes. We found a sidewalk café and squeezed into a table for two. Vicki went for the chocolate and I chased the jam. We both did caffè americano.
It wasn’t the most nutritious breakfast I’ve ever had, but for 30 Euros you can believe we savored it. After all, one does not do breakfast on the sidewalk of the Champs-Élysées everyday.
View down the upper end of the Champs-Élysées.
Of course no Paris Big Bus experience is complete without a stop at the Eiffel Tower. We chose to hop off at the Trocadero. At this point, the rain had drifted away, the sun was out, and we had a lovely view. Vicki and I elbowed our way to the wall for the obligatory shot.
From this distance, we were unable to see the three-meter high (and two-inch thick) bulletproof glass that now protects the tower and its tourists from terrorists, graffiti artists, and the guys selling the little metal Eiffel Tower momentos. Stepping on one of those doodads in the dark would be worse than a lego landmine.
Yes, Paris was full of surprises. And contradictions.
But these two damp tourists had a very good time.
The obligatory shot.
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