Tag: Paris

Run-cation, part 4: a homeless feast and the finish

August 18, 2022 / Anthony / 0 Comments

Travel Journal, 125

In August of 2021, me and a friend traveled to Paris to go for a run. Follow along with this map of our run. We ran 75 km over a day-and-a-half. Here’s how we did it:

Here is as good a time as any to remind you that our run took place in August of 2021 and Covid restrictions in France were outrageous. Masks were still in use and vaccine and tests were also required. Since I am a US resident, I simply kept my vaccine card with me during the day. Seth on the other hand is an EU resident. At the time, EU residents were required to print off and carry a specific sheet of paper with a QR scannable code. Everywhere we went for coffee, food, grocery, or any store, proprietors checked my card and scanned Seth’s code. And it was getting old. I kept my card handy, but made sure to protect it. Seth had no card, just a flimsy piece of paper which had begun to break down. But we finally got past the grocery store guard (yes, guard), and started hunting for food.

We exited the store with two bags of delights and looked for a place to eat. The river always gives travelers a location to sit and have a meal. We found a bench across from a large boat and tucked into our feast of Red Bull, chocolate wafer cookies, dates, and ginger ale. As we sat near the boat, a man walked up to us and began to ask us if we needed help. Taken aback, we told him we were doing just fine, thank you. He pointed to the boat and I saw the sign which declared that we were sitting at the entrance of the Parisian Salvation Army. We must have been quite the site sitting there in our ragged running clothes eating junk food, waiting for the Salvation Army to open. I don’t often get mistaken for a homeless man. But when I look at some of my running pictures, I’m actually surprised it doesn’t happen more often.

Homeless meal finished, we began running and turned right at boulevard Jean Jaures, leading us away from the river. The next goal was to get to the second most visited monument in Paris, Sacré-Cœur. This Basilica tends to be visited not for religious purposes, but mostly for the great view. The tiny streets leading up to the monument offer shops filled with knick-knacks of keychain Eiffel Towers and t-shirts brandishing the face of Mona Lisa. We snagged a slushy from a touristy vendor and looked up at Sacré-Cœur. It stands at the top of a hill. This may not seem problematic to most traveler. But Seth and I were already 28 miles into our day. Begrudgingly, we trudged up the 300 marble steps and gazed over Paris. The climb is definitely worth it. Even the naked eye reveals the major landmarks, even the Eiffel Tower which now hangs from your car keys.

Our day was coming to a close. We had looped around from our hostel at Rue de Dunkerque, down to Notre Dame, followed the Seine for many miles, turned to Sacré-Cœur, and ended up back at the hostel. We put 31 miles or 50 km on our shoes throughout the day, and had an additional 15+ miles or 25 km the day before that. We showered and cleaned up and treated ourself to some more Indian curry…and then shawarma on the way back to the hostel.

Running the city of Paris may not be the best way to enjoy each monument and restaurant. But running a city gives the traveler a unique perspective, an overview. We landed in Paris and began running on a Tuesday, ran all day Wednesday, then left the country on Thursday. It was like taking a survey course on an intense subject. We saw highlights and locales which most tourist almost never see. Did I learn everything I need to know about Paris to, say, win an argument about the French Revolution with Seth the next time I see him? Probably not. But I promise you that we saw more of Paris in a day-and-a-half than most travelers can do in a week.

It’s not quality folks, it’s quantity.

Or is it the other way around?

anthony forrest

Part 1: getting there and getting started

Part 2: connecting and running

Part 3: architecture, coffee, and gravel paths

Follow along each week for the rest of our run along the Seine River in Paris.

Run-cation, part 3: architecture, coffee, and gravel paths

August 11, 2022 / Anthony / 0 Comments

Travel Journal, 124

In August of 2021, me and a friend traveled to Paris to go for a run. Follow along with this map of our run. We ran 75 km over a day-and-a-half. Here’s how we did it:

Running south, we immediately hit the Seine and saw Sainte-Chapelle and the Louvre. The Louvre houses some of the world’s tressures. But we had no time to peruse the buildings and floors of art and history. The stunning enlightenment-era architecture takes your breath away. In the US, our oldest structures were built during the Revolutionary War, or sometime after the Civil War. But Europe’s far older. And even knowing this, Paris somehow feels older than the 16^th, 17^th, and 18^th centuries. Perhaps it’s the medieval skeletal structures that bleed through that gives it a haunting feeling. Most of the buildings here were born in the Middle Ages and grew to what we know now, stone and glass cathedrals and palaces.

We ran (literally) into the Louvre from its famous entrance at the Tuileries Garden, through its courtyards and fountains and statues, then back the way we came. When exiting the Louvre at the Place de la Concord (an 18^th century Egyptian Obelisk) visitors gaze down the expansive and very photographed avenue Champs-Élysées. Great leaders (Napoleon Bonaparte) and not so great leaders (Adolf Hitler) have walked and ridden down this 1.2-mile-long street, lined with fantastic shopping and even more fantastic history. And it all leads to the Arc de Triomphe. We ran the roundabout seeing every side of this 162’ tall structure, arguing about the French Revolution. Emperor Bonaparte commissioned the towering arch while he stilled ruled. It was ironically finished long after the government he created exiled him and he died of a mysterious illness.

Our run tour of Paris led back down to the Seine and connected us with the most famous structure of Paris, the Eiffel Tower. We took cliched pictures and posed hilariously, as is probably required by all that governs tourists. The tower is actually pretty cool. Not as old as the rest of Paris, but very interesting nonetheless. But honestly, I had other things on my mind. Namely food and coffee.

A few blocks away, I talked Seth into stopping for second breakfast. I speak such horrible French. I know a handful of words and all of them have to do with ordering coffee and food. We found a little café and I ordered us two omelets and two café cremes (This is just what the French call a cappuccino. They drink it in the morning. It also usually comes with chocolate dusted on top.)

After fueling up on omelets and fries and coffee, we trudged along the Seine leaving the iconic sites behind us. We tend to think of Paris as a caricature of itself—a connect the dots of Eiffel Towers and museums. Throw in a couple of macaroons and you’ve got yourself a foreign film. But Paris, like all places, is home to people living out their lives in business and play. So we left the icons behind us and ran toward the Paris of the people. Apartment buildings and grocery stores line the river here. Parts of the river are simply not as clean. Boats dot the river throughout the city. But it seems the further away from downtown you go, the more houseboats you see. Then crossing the Pont de Saint-Cloud, Seth and I found a mostly gravel pathway on the eastern side of the river (city side).

This pathway led us through over 5 miles of houseboats and far more seclusion than the city running we’d been doing. To our left, the Seine—to our right, wooded land; this is part of the massive Bois de Boulogne public park area. For me, this was probably the most enjoyable running, since we could avoid cars and pedestrians. It also gave us a better view of the river and wooded land.

The gravel path finally popped us out onto a sidewalk much like the walkway on which we began this run. But by now, we were hungry and thirsty. We checked our phones until Seth recognized a grocery store chain he’d seen in Spain. After over 20 miles of running, we were very ready for some (more) fuel.

anthony forrest

Part 1: getting there and getting started

Part 2: connecting and running

Follow along each week for the rest of our run along the Seine River in Paris.

Run-cation, part 2: connecting and running

August 4, 2022 / Anthony / 0 Comments

Travel Journal, 123

In August of 2021, me and a friend traveled to Paris to go for a run. Follow along with this map of our run. We ran 75 km over a day-and-a-half. Here’s how we did it:

The train stopped at Orly station and I hopped off. And after a few minutes of waiting, Seth and I spotted each other near the arrivals entrance. I don’t really know what I was thinking was going to happen. Maybe we were going to catch up over dinner? Perhaps we would grab a train and do a little sight-seeing? Nay. We set up our running watches and looked at google maps. We came here to run, and that’s what we were going to do.

We laughed and joked and talked about jet lag as we began running, literally from the airport parking lot. The Seine River snakes through Paris and acts as kind of a guide to all of the Parisian sites. Yes, some of the sites do not lie right adjacent to the river. But a landmark like the Seine helps any traveler with finding their way. We followed our phone map through parking lots, industrial complexes, and car rental locales until finally the business section gave way to the river cutting through it all.

Paris is, of course, a romantic and classical city full of museums and architecture and cuisine. And if you want to see the touristy sites, you can certainly do that. Pay for a hop-on-hop-off bus. Go to the Eiffel tower. (And you should definitely go to the Eiffel tower.) But Seth and I had deeper plans. As we hit the river, we ran on the paved walkway that lines it shores for the entire length of the city. The only major site we saw that evening was Notre Dame. Of course, when I now visit the famous cathedral, my heart tends to ache. The fire in April of 2019 left the ancient structure hollow and in desperate need of repair. The ongoing restorations have no end date in site. Visitors will not be allowed until at least Spring of 2024.

That first day of running took us about 16 miles or 25km, all leading to our hostel, the St Christopher’s Inn, Gare du Nord, located in the Saint Vincent de Paul sector of the city. After finding a bed and showering off the scum of many hours of travel, no sleep, and 16 miles of city running, it was time to find some food.

Most people know Paris as a place of croissant (and it is—you must have croissant), and espresso (again, drink the coffee). But what Americans certainly don’t think about is how international a city Paris is. Travelers are remiss if they don’t check out the shawarma or, in our case, curry.

We settled on a vegetarian Indian place and promptly asked the manager to surprise us. We were not disappointed. Eating a bunch of curry before running 30 miles the next day may seem like folly. I don’t recommend it for the faint of heart. I am pleased to announce that we suffered no gastrointestinal upset. No runners were harmed in the eating of this curry.

We walked back to the hostel, played a couple of games of chess, I read a few more pages of my book, and it was lights out. We both slept as well as to be expected.

Since we were still on the heels of a pandemic, our hostel-provided breakfast came in a bag and consisted of an orange juice, chocolate croissant, and a token for an extremely disappointing coffee. We’d have to track down a descent coffee later in the day. We had also figured out that we would be able to stay at the same hostel and store our clothes in a locker until we returned. This proved to be very helpful. No need to carry all our gear all over the City of Lights like we did the day before. Our full day of running was setting up for success. The site-seeing would truly begin today.

anthony forrest

Part 1: getting there and getting started

Follow along each week for the rest of our run along the Seine River in Paris.

Run-cation, part 1: getting there and getting started

July 28, 2022 / Anthony / 0 Comments

Travel Journal, 122

In August of 2021, me and a friend traveled to Paris to go for a run. Follow along with this map of our run. We ran 75 km over a day-and-a-half. Here’s how we did it:

“I just need to get away and go for a long run,” Seth confessed on the WhatsApp call. The both of us enjoy running long distances and, frankly, needed it. My life as a paramedic comes with baggage. Night after night I stressfully work with patients in need. It’s fulfilling and satisfying work. But the sleepless nights, high-stress situations, and high-acuity medical and trauma cases weigh on me—as they do all other paramedics, EMTs, firefighters, and police officers.

I can’t really speak to Seth’s life. But life as an expat in the north of Spain comes with its own difficulties. Life, for both of us, had gotten to a boiling point. And we both knew it.

“I have some time later this month,” I said, my mind racing. It was true. I had a couple of days off coming up in August (back in ’21). But it was only a couple of days.

“Let’s meet someplace”

“Let’s meet in Paris. We’ll run around the city!”

This was both good news and bad news. You see, we both wanted to run and we both wanted to run around Paris. That’s the good news. The bad news is that we’ve been arguing about the French Revolution for the past three years. Don’t ask me why; I can’t remember. All I know is that every time we get together, Seth’s opinion regarding the French crops up and I have to correct him. He says the same thing about me. I don’t even know what the argument is about. But when he and I start talking about the late 1700’s, it gets heated.

We would just have to risk it.

In less than a day, we made the decision to fly to Paris, France from our respective homes in Spain and Minnesota.

The plan was simple.

We would pack light.

Very light.

I was scheduled to land in the mid-morning and Seth would get in a few hours later. The only goal was to run as much as we could in a couple of days.

Back in Minnesota I stared down at my Nathan Hydration pack wondering if it would do the trick. The problem with flying to another country just to run was that I had to run with all of my luggage on my back. That just wouldn’t do. So, I pulled the water bladder out of the bag and packed the following:

A single pair of running shorts
One pair of socks
One tech shirt
A travel toothbrush and toothpaste
Anti-chafe cream
Phone charger
Plug adapter
Ultralight rain jacket
Second hand sci-fi novel (call me a barbarian, but as I read the pages, I would tear them out and throw them away to save the weight)

I wore a long-sleeved running shirt, zip-off pants, and a hat—cell phone and wallet in my pocket. If it’s not on that list, I didn’t bring it. No deodorant. No soap. No second pair of underwear in case of…emergencies. Just a single pair of running gear.

The idea was that we would land in Paris and run around the city, seeing the sites. Later we’d hit a cheap hostel, clean up, and rest. Seth’s bag looked much the same as mine. However, he had a piece of equipment I did not have—sleep. He lives in Spain. The time change was going to kill me. I would try to sleep on the flight over from Minneapolis and he would get a full night of sleep.

Turns out, neither of us slept. Seth fell victim to a major problem that many runners face: the jitters. He tossed and turned and barely slept a wink. His flight left in the morning, and mine the night before. As it was, we both landed in Paris feeling jet lagged and worn.

My first goal upon landed was to get out of the airport. While this doesn’t sound too crazy, it was a legitimate concern. I flew with no luggage, just a tiny backpack. I had little cash on me. And my planned stay was two nights. To any border security agent, I was ripe for the plucking.

I stepped to the counter and gave a smile, offering my best, “bonjour.” The agent took my passport and flipped through the pages. I have a lot of short stays stamped on those sheets. He gazed up at me with squinty eyes. I then had to try and explain that I was literally there in Paris to run around the city. It was going poorly until I finally landed on the word “tour” and he stamped my passport, much to my relief.

Seth wouldn’t arrive for a few hours. And he would be arriving elsewhere. My flight landed at Charles Du Galle, that’s where most international (or at least most extra-European) flights land. So I grabbed the free bus to city center and found the hostel. Way too early to check in, but no matter. I found a bite to eat and started the journey to Orly Airport, the smaller international airport a few miles south of where I was.

I felt like I was cheating a little bit, being there before Seth. Actually, I’d been to Paris before, so it hardly mattered. But I felt like I was getting a head start on the exam.

anthony forrest

Follow along each week for the rest of our run along the Seine River in Paris.

Travel Journal, 31

September 26, 2019 / Anthony / 0 Comments

Foreign Bathroom Series

Chapter Four, The 20p Toilet

Ah, London. How we adore you.

Traveling to the UK is something that I’ve wanted to do for some time. With an easily walkable city, eclectic food scene, and free museums, London has something for everybody.

But the one major problem is the public restroom. It doesn’t exist. And if you find a restroom, you’ll probably have to pay to use it. After trudging around London for hours on end with no restroom is sight, we finally found a map of the city. On that map was a little dot marking the presence of a restroom in St James Park, across from Buckingham Palace (a big shout out to Her Majesty for putting the only public toilet in London in the middle of a 57-acre park). My wife and I nearly ran through the sunny park, over wooden bridge covered streams to get to the tiny brick building. Upon arrival, we parted ways to our respective sides only to discover that the machine guarding the door required 20 pence for entry (and consequent relief).

We began shoving unknown sterling coins into the machine to no avail. Dancing and shuffling, I looked down—wrong coin. The restroom attendant (yes, it had a restroom attendant) glared at us and begrudgingly helped us find the correct change. But honestly, I probably would have crammed a 50-pound note into the machine just to find a little solace for my stressed urinary system.

Though the future EU membership of the UK is uncertain. One thing remains concretely sure, toilet trials continue across the Channel.

Few things about Europe frustrate me. Let’s be honest, they simply have travel figured out. Public transportation is a breeze. You can get anywhere on the train, and cheaply. I can land in Amsterdam and be in another country within the hour. It helps that each country is smaller. But there is so much infrastructure and money available for public transportation that getting around is simply easy. Money is also pretty simple. Every country (almost) uses the Euro. No exchanges to worry about! And with the European Union, most countries do not require a border security or passport control stop. Open borders make country to country travel realistic, cheap, and accessible. So many positive reasons to visit Europe come to my mind.

But what about that darn potty?

In nearly the same scenario we searched and searched for a restroom in Paris. This time, we lucked out. There, on the Parisian sidewalk, stood a sort of pod. Now, I would call it a public restroom, but it was more akin to an enormous egg, or an oval dumpster, or maybe an escape pod from a spaceship. We stood at the door and tried to read the French instructions. We pressed the button and the door slid open like a time machine from the future. I entered. The floor was soaked. After my business had been accomplished, I departed the escape pod. The door quietly closed before my wife could enter. I blue light flashed and the words Le Lessive appeared. It was a self-cleaning toilet pod from the future.

As much as I love Europe and the UK, American public restroom availability is a luxury without which I don’t want to live!

anthony forrest

Travel Journal, 27

August 22, 2019 / Anthony / 0 Comments

Limestone Mourning

Wednesday, February 20, 2019

We stood on a cobblestone walkway in front of the ancient building. The Spring had yet to grow warm, so we huddled together and braced ourselves with coffee and miles of walking. But we were now stopped at one of the most iconic places in all of Europe—the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The sister-towers loomed over Paris like silent secret-keepers. The gothic construction gives a feeling of mystery. It makes you feel like you don’t know everything. Gargoyles and other creatures of fictitious wariness stand eternal guard, hanging off the limestone façade. If it wasn’t a church, and there were no sounds, and every person around me were suddenly gone, the cathedral would frighten me.

Over 800 years old, Notre Dame has stood like this, guarding Paris. It has not stood unwaveringly. The structure went through a reckless youth and horrific mid-life crisis. Originally a place of worship, the cathedral has been used for everything from a storehouse to a revolutionary headquarters. It’s fallen, broken, burned, and collapsed in the earlier days. From rebuilding to revolution to restoration and renovation, Notre Dame is now an icon of traditional Catholicism, artistic freedom, Gothic beauty, and outright French Nationalism.

Notre Dame is France.

Monday, April 15, 2019

One month later, we sat in our living room watching Sky News out of the UK. They were playing continuous coverage of the burning of Notre Dame. During a renovation, the building caught fire and ignited the buttresses and vaults and frames and trusses. Miles of hundreds year old oak burned like a tinder box. France stood in horror.

Soon the social media stories circled. Ideas and opinions surfaced.

Should the world care so much about some building?

There are people starving and we’re going to spend how much on rebuilding?

Is this a picture of the declination of French nationalism?

Perhaps the destruction of Notre Dame is symbolic of a crumbling religious foundation in Europe?

I can’t say the truth of the matter. But I do know that the world is a little emptier without Notre Dame. Our world is often polarized, ugly, uncertain, and fear-filled. Places like Notre Dame stand as a reminder of days past. It teaches us the history of mankind. Helps us not to make the same mistakes. It fights for peace. It keeps the mystery alive. It reminds us that there are things we just don’t and may never know.

But most of all, it reminds us of beauty.

Notre Dame is France.

Notre Dame is us.

anthony forrest

Cathédrale

April 1, 2019 / Anthony / 0 Comments

Tag: Paris

Run-cation, part 4: a homeless feast and the finish

Travel Journal, 125

Run-cation, part 3: architecture, coffee, and gravel paths

Travel Journal, 124

Run-cation, part 2: connecting and running

Travel Journal, 123

Run-cation, part 1: getting there and getting started

Travel Journal, 122

Travel Journal, 31

Foreign Bathroom Series

Chapter Four, The 20p Toilet

Limestone Mourning

Cathédrale

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