Europe by the Seat of Our Pants. Part Sept.

Thursday, March 12

At about 4:30am there was a knock on our door. I sleep heavy and barely recognized what was happening as Rhonda got out of bed on the second knock. Amy was there stating that the President had just shut down the country. We needed to get home before Friday night at midnight, or we would be stuck for 30 days. She said that everyone was meeting in the lobby to talk about it. Rhonda climbed back in bed and said “let me know what happens”

As I was dressing, I was searching my phone for information. Of course there were headlines about President Trumps broadcast. I continued to search for info as I rode the elevator to the small lobby. All six of the others were there and with obvious concern over this news. Joes mother had called him right after the presidents speech, begging with him to get a flight right away to beat the deadline. I let everyone state their concerns, then I read aloud the notice from The Department of Homeland Security website. The travel ban would not apply to US Citizens or legal residents. At first, the general consensus was to leave as soon as possible. My thought was, that as citizens, we were exempt. I felt no reason to change our plans. To help ease everyone’s minds, I agreed to call Delta Airlines to look at the option of going earlier. Based on the wait time a few days previous, I knew it would be a long wait. I didn’t have Brads resource for getting through quickly. I called the 800 number and entered my info for a callback. Six hours was the estimate. I knew better.

We had planned to visit the Paris Temple today, so we all went back to bed for a couple of hours of sleep. I’m sure some didn’t sleep. I did.

As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, temples are important edifices. They are different than our regular buildings that you may see on a corner in your neighborhood. In a nutshell, temples represent the Kingdom of God here on earth. When we are inside a temple, we feel closer to His presence than anywhere else on earth. Where there are thousands of meeting houses throughout the world, there are only 161 currently operating temples worldwide. There are 40 or so more that are either under construction, being renovated or in planning stages.

Our original travel plans were to go to the newly opened Rome Temple after getting off the ship on Thursday. The Rome Temple was now closed indefinitely, so the rest of the tour group would not even see it. Our plan to defect from the cruise included going to the Paris Temple. As it turned out, Joe had an aunt and uncle that had come to Paris the previous year, to work at the temple. He contacted them the day before and told them he had a group coming.

The morning was dreary and it was raining. After we had run across the intersection to grab a bite from a real restaurant instead of the Golden Arches, we hailed two taxis. It was about a 30 min drive in the busy, weekday morning traffic. Most of the temples in the world are immediately noticeable. On ninety percent of them there is a golden statue of a man holding a trumpet. Because of building codes, the Paris Temple is one of the ten percent that don’t. The cabs let us out in front and we made our way to the entrance. The peace that is felt while inside is palpable, and the worries of earlier that morning were completely forgotten. Of course the language used is French, so we were all issued headsets to be able to have translation to English.

Only church members in good standing can enter a temple, but at many of the temple sites, there are visitor centers. They are separate buildings with lots of information about the church and temples. Joes relatives were working in the Visitor Center, so after our session inside we walked over to meet them. The first thing they told us was that they had just received notice that they were being sent back to the states. Effective the next day, the temple would be closed. We had barely made it. They shared some interesting facts about the similarities between today’s temples, the tabernacle that Moses had erected and the later temple in Jerusalem during the time of Christ.

After a nice visit, it was time to head back to Paris and visit the Eiffel Tower. We decided to try Uber, which turned out to be cheaper and far more enjoyable than the taxi cabs. I still hadn’t received a callback from Delta and it was now 7 hours since I had called.

The Eiffel Tower was about a 15 minute walk from the hotel. We stopped at what would be the bakery of choice for the next two days, Merci Jérôme. They had all manner of pastries, bread, desserts and sandwiches. I could get in serious trouble with that store in my neighborhood. Luckily, it was Thursday and we were leaving Sat.

Upon first sight, the tower is beautiful. The color and architecture reminds me of “steampunk”. It has an antique bronze hue to it. For some reason, at first it didn’t look that big to me. It wasn’t until we were standing underneath and then standing at the top, did the size really manifest itself. Once again there were scores of dark skinned men selling trinkets. This time there were replicas of all sizes and colors of the tower. Some were walking around, and some had blankets set on the ground, covered in the exact same hardware as the scores of others within talking distance. Some would ask then move on, and some were irritatingly persistent. There were also lots of selfie sticks.

In the past, you could freely walk around under the tower. In today’s world of global terrorism, there is a barrier all the way around. In order to get inside, you must pass through security. Backpacks went through x-ray machines and people through metal detectors. It was a reminder of how much the world has changed in the last 20 years. The 8 of us debated spending close to $30 each to go to the top. Clint vocalized it best when he said, “I’m here in Paris now and I don’t know when or if I will ever be back. I’m going up”. Everyone agreed with his sentiment so we got in line for tickets. The lines were short, which was a direct result of the ever increasing worldwide turmoil.

Amy has a small issue with heights. A few days previous when we walked around the top of the Piza Tower, it was obvious that she wasn’t completely comfortable. As we now stood in line for the first elevator, she was visibly nervous. This elevator doesn’t go straight up, but rather follows the arch of the legs to the lower deck. She was an absolute trooper after receiving encouragement from everyone. At the first deck, we made our way to the elevator bank in the middle of the tower that would take us to the top. These cars were much smaller than the first. There were lots of jokes about the last small elevator ride that most of us had experienced. Some didn’t think the jokes were funny.

The deck where the elevators stop is surprisingly large. There are shops and restrooms and the entire floor is encased in windows. A small stairway leads to the upper deck that is open to the air. The wind was blowing hard at the top. Standing on one side, the air was still and crisp. The rainy morning had given way to blue skies interlaced with high, stratocumulus clouds. Moving around the other side unleashed the cold blast of an unrelenting gale. The views are incredible. The layout of the city, unconventional to what we are used to, is prominent with this birds eye view.

Right as we decided to descend back down, my phone rang from an 800 number. 11 hours after I called, Delta was calling back. I felt sorry for the customer service reps that were having to deal with this circus. I sat down and took the call. I expressed the desire to possibly leave on Friday if it were possible. The answer was that while Delta was waiving change fees during this time, there weren’t any open seats on Friday. I was fine with that answer. After the Presidents speech, people were in mass hysteria trying to get back to the US before the deadline. The airports would be a nightmare. We were already seeing toilet paper hoarding on the news in the US. We would stay on our original itinerary.

Everyone had gone to the bottom while I was on the phone with Delta, so Rhonda and I got in line for elevator. When we got to the lower level, an elevator had just left to the bottom, so we decided to take the stairs from there. The view was deceiving and it took longer than I thought it would to step onto the ground. We all gathered at the bottom and made our way back to the hotel to rest up before heading out for dinner.

We had plans to go eat and then take a Metro ride back to the tower to see it at night. After plopping down at the hotel and feeling the wear on our legs and feet, the desire to make a long journey diminished. Brett and Julia had managed to stop their laundry from going out the last day on the ship, and that had left them with over 10 days of dirty clothes. There was a laundromat just down the street, so they decided to take care of that before we went to dinner. Joe and Amy followed with the same plan. For me, it was nice to sit and do nothing for short time.

A couple of hours later, we were on the hunt for dinner. Walking down the street, we settled on a corner cafe that could put tables together for the 8 of us. French Onion soup seemed to be an apropos choice. There was a dish with Andouillette that for some reason sounded good to me. As it turned out, it was a good thing I had ordered a bowl of onion soup. I ate half of the course sausage, but just couldn’t muscle more down. It was far too rich and… nasty. The waiter laughed when he came to take the plate away. He knew. At least I had tried an authentic French dish, one that I would never try again.

We hadn’t had gelato for a few days now, but in France we found that the frequent gelato shops of Italy didn’t exist. We managed to find a Häagen-Dazs store so we settled for that. It was a let down compared the soft, creaminess that is gelato. On the upside, we did have Merci Jêrome to look forward to in the morning.