Jardin d'Acclimatation

Paris, France – Saturday, March 20th, 2010

Before flying across the Atlantic Ocean for the first time, I secretly believed that somehow being in Europe would feel different. Not just in differences in the surroundings, customs, food or even the language. If I were to close my eyes while in Europe, there would still be some mysterious, indescribable energy coursing through the fabric of existence that would make that immediate sensation different than if I were still back home in North America. A split-second’s logical reflection on this idea would of course render it ridiculous to consider, but it was hard not to look at a map of the world and, upon realizing just how incalculably massive a distance I’d be from anywhere I had ever been before, to think for just a little bit that perhaps there’d be a slight change in the average spin directionality of an electron, or a minor disturbance in the in the otherwise uniform Higgs field that permeates the universe. Being told ad nauseam by my university’s Office of Study Abroad about the massive cultural changes I’d experience most likely didn’t help to assuage those feelings, even though it was pretty obvious they just wanted to stress the point that they don’t want the student population getting blacked-out drunk on the streets every weekend like they would in the states, especially considering for most of them, a semester abroad is basically equivalent to a four month long party.

After living in Rome for a little over two months, those feelings have mostly all been dispelled. From the big perspective, I’m still in the western capitalistic world, and although there might be plenty of ‘little differences’, those smallest differences are still exactly the same. The cracks in the sidewalk or the rustling of leaves in the trees, the feeling of a breath of fresh air or the taste of a cheap but decent meal after five hours of walking, and those little ‘ticks’ you can observe people do when they don’t have cultural norms to tell them exactly how to use hand gestures or carry themselves as they walk. For me, it’s that big picture mixed with all those tiniest of details that are most fundamental to understanding reality, the stuff in between are incidental novelty interests more than anything else. Perhaps it helps considerably that I already was incredibly awkward and unsure of what cultural expectations were in the United States, so coming to Europe and finding myself in the exact same situation allowed me to feel right at home. Unsurprisingly, it was the language barriers that would be the biggest problems, and for rather obvious reasons: not being able to properly ask the shop owner a question or figure out what that important-looking sign reads have their drawbacks, although it is interesting to note just how much is communicated through body language and vocal intonations that even when there is no one around to help translate, most of the basic ideas are still able to get across. Perhaps I was just getting too used to Italy and needed to throw myself into another country with a complex itinerary and little time to adjust before moving on all while depending only on the contents of my backpack and my own personal resourcefulness, completely on my own for a week and a half. With that, on Friday, March 19th, 2010, I finished packing my last set of socks into my backpack, slipped my iPod into my coat pocket, double checked my first day’s itinerary, and left my apartment to catch the next train to Rome Fiumicino airport for a 6:00pm direct flight to Paris, France. And so began the adventure…

I arrived in Paris Orly around 8:00, and proceeded to the airport shuttle that would take me to the Paris Metro where I’d get off at Gare du Nord train station, only a short walk from the hostel I had booked for my first two nights. The Sacre Coeur was only a five minute walk away (or at least that was what I was told, the area looked pretty flat and devoid of major Parisian landmarks to me), but since it was raining out and the dome wouldn’t be open at that hour anyway I figured my best bet was to save all my sightseeing for tomorrow and just check into my hostel and find a decent place to eat. I found my room, which was extremely small, barely enough room for the four beds and a small table, but it included a small shower room with a sink and I was the first one there so I got free pick of the beds for the night. Not five minutes later, two of my roommates also arrived. They were cousins about my age visiting Paris together, he from Germany and she from Argentina (regretfully I can’t recall their names). After introductions I found out they needed to find dinner as well, so we ventured off together to find something to eat. Several locations seemed promising, but they were either closing for the night or were far too expensive. We ended up at a kebab stand which was cheap and seemed to offer decent portions for the money. Plus the meal came with French fries, so I was on the right track for sampling the local cuisine, right?

The next morning I headed off on my own a little before 9:00am to be at the Sacre Coeur right in time for the opening of the dome, and because I didn’t want to run out of time there before a tour I scheduled started at 11 at the base of the Eiffel Tower. It was indeed a short walk from the hostel, and much to my delight I found the area was still relatively quiet with only a small scattering of tourists standing around. However I soon discovered one major drawback to arriving this early; as a lone American student traveler, I became too easy of a target for the group of scam artists preying on unknowing tourists near this point of interest. The basic response to this is whenever I’m approached on the street, just keep walking without any acknowledgment. I got through most of them but just as I was in the clear, one of them, in a very friendly and conversational tone, got right in my path to welcome me to the city and introduce himself. I tried to step around but he insisted I listen to what he had to say for just a moment, so I gave in and let him talk. Instead he asked for my right hand to give me a small bracelet. Ah, so this guy is with a charity. I asked who he was with, but instead he kept the conversation going as he wound the bracelet, asking where I was from and if I was enjoying Paris. He told me how he was from Africa and Paris welcomes people from all over the world, whether from Michigan, Europe, Asia or Africa, and to remember the poor people in Africa as I toured to world; and perhaps I should one day visit there. Okay, so is there going to be a request for a donation at the end or is this just a general awareness pitch? I tried to get him to specify exactly what charity he was with but he avoided the question, and as he finished the bracelet he told me to make a wish, and as long as I kept it on and didn’t tell anyone my wish, it would come true. I quickly thought of something so this wouldn’t waste any more time (I wished that none of the coasters I was planning on riding over the next week and a half would be shut down; I can say it now since it didn’t come true anyway), and hoped we were now finished. ‘That’ll be…’ and he mumbled some price I couldn’t make out. Oh. I get it now. Fine he was nice enough and I still figured there was some charity involved so I could maybe spare the two or three euros he changed, agitated he didn’t inform me of this before the transaction. I pulled out my wallet to reach for a coin, and he pointed at some of the €50 bills I had in my wallet. Uh, what? “Just give me one of those and I can give you back a €20”. So it wasn’t €3 I heard but 30. No. Fucking. Way. That actually ended up being his biggest mistake; the whole pitch up to that point was very cleverly crafted, using many of the formal persuasive techniques taught in my Intro to Logic class. But he messed up in his application of the “door in the face technique”, because he presented me with no alternative besides insisting on the €30 for a piece of string. The fact that I couldn’t easily give it back meant I was stuck paying something to get out of the situation, and I gave him a €2 coin and told him that was all I could afford, and then asserted I had to be on my way. Twenty seconds later I realized I shouldn’t have given him anything since I had still been under the impression there was some charity involved, but whatever, €2 would be quite marginal in the grand scheme of the week’s expenses.

Just to run through the rest of the sightseeing activities of the morning and afternoon before getting to the roller coaster part of this report, the Sacre Coeur still ended up being well worth it. It’s free to have a look around the main church area, and the €5 fee to go up the tower offers such incredible views of the city that a trip up the Eiffel Tower would be nearly redundant. Okay, so maybe it’s still a good idea to say you’ve been to the Eiffel Tower while you’re in Paris, but the advantage of the Sacre Coeur was there were no lines or any other crowds up there. Incredible way to start the day, being able to see the entire city laid out in front of you. Here’s a small collection of photos taken from the top:

While I’m not sure if I would say Paris or Rome is the nicer city to visit, the one area that Paris has Rome beat hands down in their Metro system. Rome consists of only two lines forming a giant X across the city, while Paris consists of some 273 x 10^62 different lines, with a station positioned at pretty much every other block in the city. This ended up being extremely useful in getting from the Sacre Coeur to the Eiffel Tower, and as a result I had a bit of time to take pictures while I waited for my bicycle tour to start. The tour was nice and professionally run, although I do think perhaps for my purposes (as a lone American philosophy student armed with only a digital camera and several changes of batteries) I should have chosen something that allowed more time to take pictures and listen to a lengthy narrative from the guide rather than ride around on bicycle from place to place only stopping at the front of the occasional important landmark. A lot of ground was covered which is what I needed since I had only one day to see the city before moving on to Disneyland, and that had to include fitting in a stop to Jardin d’Acclimatation later in the day; plus it included a group lunch break which I needed since I can never decide on a place to eat if I’m traveling just by myself.

I do regret that my plans never allowed me time to actually go into the Louvre or any other of the Parisian art museums, but my plan had always been from the start of the trip to get only a ‘taste’ of Paris so I’d be sure to return someday… and I will open admit here my main motivation for returning is to visit Parc Astérix and Parc Saint Paul when they’re not closed, especially since the first is rumored to finally get a major new steel coaster in 2011. That said, I do realize what I’m missing out on, and look forward to that return visit when I can walk up to a renaissance masterwork and experience that ubiquitous aesthetic experience among tourists where one is so moved by the power of the artwork that they can only think, “wow, I bet that painting is really famous!” (Of course I’m not really that cynical, as I’m aware that there are many other visitors that will actually understand the art, and that when they see it are emotionally overpowered by the realization, “wow, I bet that painting is worth a lot of money!” Hey, at least when I visit a foreign city I’m honest with myself over what I personally want to see and will genuinely appreciate, even if it’s a run-down local theme park.)

After the bike tour I hopped on the Metro and took it to the stop nearest Le Jardin d’Acclimatation, arriving a little after 3:00 that afternoon. For those not aware of what “Jardin d’Acclimatation” is, it’s a gated gardens area very close to the main city center, dating back from the mid-1800’s and has since acquired a moderate collection of family amusement rides including three small (but unique) roller coasters. Admission is less than €3, although you have to pay individually for each ride. I was a little bit let down when I first walked in, as I had been expecting a much more elaborate botanical gardens with a few rides integrated between the displays, but instead it was a bit better described as just a pleasant, tranquil, European style parkground with a few garden and animal exhibits and most of the rides concentrated in a somewhat cheap, carnivalesque corner of the park… complete with your standard, small European park Disney IP knock-off attraction. It was a good place to visit and spend an hour or two, and was unlike anything I’ve come across in the US (amusement parks are meant to amuse us with bright colors and loud noises!), and would recommend it to anyone visiting Paris.

It took me a little while to figure out where to buy my ride tickets since they weren’t sold at the main gates nor at the entrances of the rides themselves (turned out it was at the window of a themed strip of buildings along the back of the rides sections), but after I purchased five I made my first ride of the trip the Tacot Express. This is an interesting little powered coaster from Soquet, and is generally what I’d like to see more out of children’s coasters. The layout starts lower to the ground and uses the powered mechanisms to gradually climb upward as it makes its way around the figure-8 design. After the third curve the train takes a sudden dive down into an unforeseen underground tunnel that provides a surprising jolt for those in the back. The train speeds through the tunnel and then up and around the last curve, where we are then treated to a second circuit.

This was the first of two Soquet powered coasters I got to ride at le Jardin d’Acclimatation, the second being the Dragon, located much farther back in the park away from the rest of the rides and near a small swan pond. I was surprised to find out after my visit that this one preceded the Tacot Express by nearly 14 years; there wasn’t that much discernible difference between the two to me, and they kept it very well maintained with a fresh coat of paint. Placed over some Asian-inspired fountains and gardens, and with a very well-crafted dragon’s head at the lead of the train, while it lacked the surprise tunnel drop of the Tacot Express it wasn’t any less of a coaster. Like Tacot, this one has a double out-and-back/figure-8 that uses the powered mechanism to gradually work up enough potential energy to end with a decent sized drop best experienced in the back row before looping around for another circuit. Again, I really wish more children’s coasters could be designed like this, with an actual aire of class about it rather than just being some compact circular little thing with nothing but moguls for a layout and bright colors with an insipid theme.

The last coaster was their biggest, and unfortunately that meant it was the only ride in the park that required two tickets instead of just one. The Papillons d’Alice is a custom-designed Reverchon Jr. Spinning coaster, but the distinction between this and the full-sized version is a bit hard to tell. The lack of any large drops is the main distinguishing characteristic and the cars are a touch more snug, but compared to the regular production models the lift is about as tall and the ride lasts as long, and as I mentioned this is also an original layout designed exclusively for the park so it gains bonus points for that. With all of that said, it’s probably as well that they didn’t manufacture any more of these because without any large drops and just a series of switchback curves with an occasional dip and the spinning cars, it felt a little more like a flat ride experience than a coaster. But a decent attraction and well-suited for the park, I still have to wonder why a ride themed to “the Butterflies of Alice” has two large eyes with thick black eyebrows pasted on the front of the cars.

Having gone through four tickets to do each of the coasters, I decided to use my last ticket on La Rivière Enchantée, a small flume attraction. There are no drops, no water effects or special scene objects to look at, just a six minute leisurely ride around trees, ponds and the gardens (I noticed a unique species of duck inhabiting the same natural lagoon basin the ride floated around). Where else but in Europe? For some reason there was no one around interested in taking my ticket from me, so I got off with my last ticket still in hand, and decided to spend it on this Kangaroo-like flat spinning attraction they had. Nice pops of air at the top but I wish the ride cycle wasn’t so long since this was one of those that it’s easy to start feeling sick on.

Somehow the two hours I was there managed to pass me by in what felt like no time, so I figured it was time to get a move on and explore the rest of the city for the night. Rather than take a Metro I took a long walk down the Avenue des Champs-Élysées (which includes the Arc de Triomphe), taking side routes whenever anything appeared of interest. I needed to stop by the Disney Store while I was there to pick up my three-day park hopper for the next day (apparently they offer the best discounts there, so if you’re planning on visiting Disneyland, you’re best off stopping by Paris beforehand to pick up your tickets there). For some reason their ticket window wasn’t staffed that evening, and the sign directed me to go to the Virgin Megastore next door to pick up tickets instead, which I did. Their current offer was €107 for the three day / two park pass, which considering how I hear about the American parks charging over $80 for a one day pass to one of their properties I’d say is a reasonable price.

As the sun began to set I made my way to the meeting point for the second tour of the day I signed up for, a ghost story walk. As it happened I was one of only three people on the tour, and barely ten minutes after it started a steady rainfall began and lasted for nearly an entire hour. I was hoping the tour would involve actually entering some of the buildings, but unfortunately we just stood outside them in the wet while the guide regaled us of some ghastly happening, not that I could really remember many of them as the weather was a bit of a distraction. When it was over I was thoroughly soaked through to the bone and needed to get back to the hostel to change into dry clothes and take a long, hot shower. Of course, being a hostel in Europe, the words “long” and “hot” can’t really be associated with that of “shower”, but by that point any form of refreshment felt good. My roommates from the previous night had moved on, but they weren’t replaced by anyone else so of the four beds two were left unoccupied, the fourth in use by an older Spanish lady who appeared to have been in bed for a while when I first got in and still sound asleep when I left the next morning for my first day at Disneyland Paris.

Next: Disneyland Paris (Part 1)