Grasmere - where I realized what does it take to be a poet...

      Today I visited the Dove Cottage in Grasmere, Lake District. For over fifty years it was the home of on of the British foremost poets, William Wordsworth. Alike other Lake Poets, he was taken away by the beauty of the place and decided to seek inspiration for his poems here, on the shore of the lake Grasmere.
 

     Outdoor shops and gingerbread

      First however, we had a walk through the village. It is nice. Few outdoor shops are embedded in the tiled houses, thence do not interfere with the colorit. You should try the traditional gingerbread in local bakery. It is different from the sponge cake we deem gingerbread in Slovakia. This is more that of small, spicy biscuits. Gift shop across the street offered variety of cuckoo clocks. I should get one when I live in my own cottage. Or yacht, the cuckoo will wear captain‘s cap. Another shop displayed authentic paintings, some priced over 2800£. Around the corner is a church dedicated to St Oswald, dated back to 7th century. It is surrounded by the typical churchyard with stone tombs. At night someone would call it frightening. 

     
The Dove Cottage and my the creative centre

       A stroll down the street finally took us to the Dove Cottage. Here Wordsworth really lived out his name because the words written in the waste cottage with wooden roof are relay worth reading. 

Next to the cottage is the museum, tea room and family centre. I covet to mention the comics version of ‚The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' by Samuel Taylor Coleridge that is to be found in the centre, together with other books by the Racists. The visitors, meant children, can draw pictures and try their hands on poetry. Actually, I used the contemporary rolls of paper to put together a few lines. Here realised that merely coming to Lake District is far away from becoming a poet. A layman might think that it is enough to put together few lines of rhyming words, interwoven by from-time-to-time alliteration or another figure and add some plot. My lines, although they meet all the attributes, backfire this presumption.

“Ancient mariner shot the albatross,

And sentenced the ship’s crew to the eternal loss.

Crew condemned the course of discontent,

Their decision ain't lest transparent.

Thence all the awe of every fishing boss.

Thou honour the memory of albatross.

Original poem inspired by captain cook.

Short of time can’t get more rhymes of the hook.”

     On poetry

     As you might have experienced, it does not read well, nor contains any witty idea.

It is lacking the inspiration, something that turns the mainstream lines into something unique. A good poet should experience the outer world very vividly to kick start his imagination. But he must be very considerate of how much if his heart he would put on the paper. Originality of the poem lies on the thin line between the rationale and emotion.

      One can be influenced by his childhood, credentials form an elite university, affairs with famous actresses, cleverness in tax evasions, disappointment that his work can not oversell even Justin Bieber; but eventually the reader does not care a thing. Nor does the critique, lest he should because it his job to be consistent. He sees only the poem and its message and that matters.

Edinburgh

     I can not omit my visit to Edinburgh. It was back in 2009, but this city deserves to be mentioned on my blog. I don’t wanna amaze you with some historical fact, boasting how much I know on the Scottish history. Instead, this is Edinburgh the way I remember it, from the very moment I walked out of the station into the pleasant rainy weather.

       Summer of 09
      In the summer of 2009 I was working in London. But I also wanted to visit other places in the UK, attracted mainly by York and his connection with the British history and Vikings. Many people from my neighbourhood were speaking highly of Edinburgh, literally one of the best places they had ever visited. Next day I went to the station to book the tickets to York. However, I came back with a return ticket to the Edinburgh Waverley Station. Train leaves from the Harry Potter station (King’s Cross) and the track runs through York. I will try to take a snap of the cathedral from the train.

Waverley, Whisky and the writers

    The journey takes about four and half hours. I set out at seven in the morning, spent my time on the train reading a National Geography tour guide on Britain – I highly recommend. It includes map of Edinburgh with detailed walking tour around all the sight. I had exactly six and half hours to catch as much of the city as possible, therefore I synchronized my program with the guide. Soon, the train approached the Edinburgh Waverley Station and I walked out to the street, to be welcomed by the typical Scottish weather: moderate but biting rain called „drizzle“. Another tourist might have been outraged, but for me it only added to the historical, slightly mysterious atmosphere. So did the tones of the piper who was playing on the street.

      Edinburgh has a population f about 500,000. City is divided into two parts. The modern, where you can find shops and branch offices of big companies. Nevertheless, I was interested in the historical city. My first stop was the Monument of Walter Scott, Romantic writer know for his historical novels. From there, I climbed the stairs to the castle. There was a stage and tribune in the process of construction, because it was few days to the Military Tattoo festival held every August.

       The Royal Mile

       From the castle I got down to the main street, the Royal Mile. On the right, I visited the Museum of Whisky and could not leave out the Writer’s Museum. Apart from Walter Scott, it is devoted to the work and life of  Robert Louis Stevenson and Robert Burns. Stevenson wrote the Treasury Island - the story with the one-legged pirate. Robern Burns is the Scottish national poet. Once I listened to a  Scotsman reciting one his poems and the man was almost crying.

     Slowly, I approached the city centre. McDonalds, Starbucks and various recognized brand outlets that belong to the colourite of any metropolis. But there were also many shop where you can buy the traditional Scottish garment. The street was full of people and emitted lively atmosphere. Yet it was different from the critical mass of London, where, time to time, you have to make your way by pushing people aside. 

     

     The Heart of Midlothian

    I was looking for the „Heart of Midlothian“. Walter Scott wrote eponymous novel. It is a heart-shaped mosaic built into the pavement of the Royal Mile. In the past, it marked the doorway to the jail. I could not find it, because it was covered by the feet of the people. During my search, I managed to see the show of an Australian artist. He was about to perform backflip from a ladder across a hoop of fire. But all his preparation and showmanship was so awesome that it deserves separate article, as well as he deserved all the collected money - none of which would be spent on drugs – as he assured.

      Finally, I discovered the heart, not far from the St Giles‘ Cathedral. On the other side of the street is a statue of David Hume.

You might think that I am switching between the sights too fast, but the historical centre really offers exciting suggestions at every turn. Feeling hungry, I stopped at a small fast food restaurant. Prices were lower that in London. I went for the traditional Scottish haggis, a sheep stomach stuffed with pluck (heart, liver and lungs), vegetables, oatmeal and spices. However, it looked like the hash-and-crumb sausages we make in Slovakia after killing a pig. I am not sure about the authenticity of the haggis, because the restaurant was not of highest standard. To tell the truth, the guy put my haggis into a take away box with chips and ketchup. After my coulinary experience, I visited the Museum of Edinburgh, to ingest something of the city’s history. 

Little bit of history and monarchy

       Edinburgh is the capital of Scotland. Foundations of the settlement are dated back to the iron age. During the middle ages, it served as a royal burgh. In 18th century, the city experienced it’s renaissance, being the focal point of the British Enlightenment. Thence the nickname the ‚Athens of the North‘. Now, it is one of the main business centres in Europe and the seat of the Scottish Parliament. Many important personalities were born or worked in Edinburgh. For example, Adam Smith, the father of the modern economy; and Robert Adam, the architect. The already mentioned philosopher David Hume, writers Irvine Welsh, Ian Banks, J.K. Rowling, Robert Louis Stevenson, Walter Scott and the doctor who wrote Sherlock Holmes – sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Even the recent British prime ministers Tony Blair and Gordon Brown come from Edinburgh, or the nearby area.

     From the museum I walked to the end of the Royal Mile. There stands the Palace of Holyrood, one of Queen‘ s residences in Scotland. Opposite the residence is the new Scottish Parliament, an disaster of architecture criticized by many. Really, the ultramodern building with the roof like that of a hockey stadium only hurts the historical panorama of the city.

      Highlands in small

       Behind the city, towering the Firth of Forth, is an oasis of hills, lakes and cliffs – the Hollyrood Park. It resembled the Scottish Highlands, although I know them only from pictures. Rest of my time in Edinburgh I spent by climbing the cliffs and taking pictures. Few minutes to five, I rushed to the Waverley Station to catch my train to London. Yer, the six and half hour were worth it. Edinburgh really is a nice city and I will come back, once. There are few more things to see and visit, for example the coffee house, where J.K Rowling started writing Harry Potter. Apart from that, I did not manage to make a picture of the York Cathedral. 

Milan

       

     I have already mentioned how I spent my first two hours in Milan looking for my hostel. Tough job, but around midnight, I could finally hit my bed. Yet I did not sleep well, maybe because of the warm weather, maybe because of the hunger. In the evening I had to eat in McDonalds, so I went for the maintenance piece of meat and salad. The bigger was my surprise next morning at the reception, when I found out that breakfast was included in the price. I got only croissant, Nutella and juice, but I did not complain as I intended to shop at a supermarket later. However, I did not know that in Italy, most of the shops are closed on Sunday. City with 1,3 million inhabitants, two football teams, fashion centre; and not a single grocery, where one can buy some food. Never mind, I set out for the sights. Maybe I will discover some supermarket that is open.  

    Duomo

      I took the bus towards the Central Station. There I changed for metro, yellow line. I got off at the Duomo station, named after the famous cathedral, which was my object of interest number one.  Construction started in 14th century in original, Gothic style, but it took almost 600 years to complete. At the top of the 108 m high spire is a statue of the Virgin Mary. You could enter the church, but every visitor was checked by the soldiers and police standing at the door, supervising the appropriate dress code (no shorts or sleeveless shirts), and looking for any forbidden items. Flash-less cameras of the tourist were drowned by the priest reading out the Bible, because it was the time of the Sunday service. I said my little prayer.  There was a souvenir shop inside the church, which was surprising, but I would also call it blasphemous. Such commerce, evokes the scene from the Bible, when Jesus banned the vendors and collybists from the Jerusalem church.

         Duomo is surrounded by an eponymous square with many important buildings. On the right, you can see the Royal Palace. In the past it was the seat of the Italian government, later cultural centre with many exhibitions and concerts. One of the most famous performers of all time was Mozart. I walked around the Duomo, still looking for some grocery store. All of a sudden, I was approached by an African, who started to tighten some self-made band around my wrist. He told me that he was from Senegal, and inquired about my homeland. Slovakia, nice country, he said. The wristband will bring me good luck. He give me one more, I should give it to my girlfriend. Of course, he asked for some change, five or ten euro. I gave him what we consider change in Slovakia, about 80 cents. Lest, I will have a good luck. As well as some girl, but I do not know which, yet.

Leonardo da Vinci and the Opera 

    On the left side of the Duomo Square is the Gallery of Victor Emanuelle II. A kind of covered arcade with many fancy restaurants and renowned outlets. I noticed Prada and Louis Vutton. The gallery is a short cut to the La Scala Square with the statue of Leonardo da Vinci in the middle. Standing there on a piedestal, together with four other scholars. But they did not make it to the piedestal. I like the guy, so I took a picture with the statue of Leonardo.

     La Scalla is one of the world’s  most famous opera houses. Once, I have to go there to watch an opera. But now, I just walked along to get to the Piazza Cordusio, and from there I crossed to the Dante Street, which leads right to the castle. Not far from there was a Decathlon sports shop which I knew from Hungary. I bought a protein bar in case I really won’t find any supermarket. Luckily, it did not happen. At the castle I bought a foccacia bread stuffed with bacon, cheese and lettuce, because I was pretty hungry. Further Africans stormed the place, but I did not want any more wristbands.

     Castle and the Last Supper

      I finished my focaccia and entered the castle. Castle Sforcezco is a renaissance fortress from the 14^thcentury. One century later, it was rebuilt by Francesco Sforza whose family ruled Milan at that time. The castle comprises several museums boasting some fine works of Leonardo and Michelangelo. Outside the castle walls, you could find many souvenir shops, like all around the central Milan. Behind the castle walls  lies the Sempione Park, one of the city’s parks. An oasis of natural beauty with many trees, bushes, flowers and people doing jogging, or just lying in the sun. I sat down just for a while, because there were few Milan musts to tick off.

     Navigated by the map I crossed the road to get to the Corso Magenta street. It took me all the way to the Dominican cloister Santa Maria delle Grazie. It’s refectory boasts the famous ‚Last Supper‘ by Leonardo. I consider this painting superior to the Mona Lisa.  Several great mysteries remain at the heart of this work of art which has experienced a little of history. Except ofthe painting, the cloister itself is of great architectonic value. There is a garden inside with flower beds and tree alleys.

       Pleased by the view, but still, I was looking for a supermarket frantically. None. I took the metro and got off three stops later, closer to the San Siro quarter. While walking, I saw a mother with a child and the child was carrying two packs of crisps. Where the hell they got them? Few minutes of hope followed by dissapointment, starring at the food machines in the local hospital. You could buy the chips in the machines, but I rather went for a mineral water, because I was really thirsty.

San Siro and food, finally

     Twenty minutes later, I arrived to the stadium. Enourmous metal and concrete construction, home of two Milan’s league teams , AC and Internazionalle.  Suddenly, a guy with a camera asked me to make a picture. I agreed if he would also take a picture of me. He was from Egypt, travelling around Europe. We made some pictures and went for the metro. Guy got off at the cloister, because he wanted to see the Last Supper. I went back to the central station. Desperate and hungy, I decided to buy three hamburgers in McDonalds. It would be enough for the whole evening. Just for the record, I walked into the news agents, where I bought my travel card the day before. You can not imagine the joy when I realised that they were also selling fresh baguettes, milk, sausages, yoghurts, fish and other basic foods. I did my shopping and went for the bus.

Killing time in Milan

      Following day was the final day of my holiday. I decided to spend it walking around Milan, because I had nothing to do to fill the gap between the hostel check out at 11:30 and my flight scheduled at 22:30. Finally, I came across an open supermarked and bought some food. The prices were quite reasonable, even if compared with Slovakia. Bakery really went up all around the Europe, because of the decrease in crops this year. Anyway, I needed some source of energy, because I would be walking for several hours carrying my bag with luggage and notebook. I took some Arabian bread and went to the cash desk.

        From the supermarket I headed towards the central station. I walked all the way from hostel to Duomo Square, stopping only in the public gardens (another park) to eat my lunch. At the square I visited some bookshops, clothes stores and walked round the cathedral enjoyng my last hours in Milan. Around six I took a train to centrale and after one hour spent reading Italian newspaper I got on my Airport shuttle. At the Caravaggio Orio al Serio International Airport (I like the name) I went to the toilets to wash myself properly to the degree the circumstances allowed me. Literally, I took of my pants to wash my legs. Dental hygiene was a must, as well. I looked like Tom Hanks in the terminal movie, where he got stuck at the airport. While waiting for my gate to open, as yet another flights were getting ready to take off, I was trying to make a video shot of a plane taking off, but they were too fast and visibility too dark. Finally, the gate opened and I left the Italian  ground, just to end up as a homeless in Budapest. But it is an another story.

Budapest at night

    My stay in the Hungarian capital was a must; I did not plan it at all. But I had a flight from Milan-Bergamo to Budapest, scheduled arrival at 23:59. From there I had a train to Sturovo in the east of Slovakia at 5:25 in the morning. Sturovo is just about 50 kilometres from where my parents live, so they would pick me up with a car.

     I intended to spend the five hour gap that occurred in Budapest getting from the airport to the train station and waiting there for my train. On the plane I met a cool guy from Milan. He had purchased the flight tickets 3 months prior to the departure for just 2 Euros. Now, he decided to board the plane and head for the Sziget music festival in Budapest. No accommodation at all, just a sleeping bag attached to his bag. Great, I have also nothing to do in Budapest. High five. We’ll go for a beer in the city.

      We talked for a while, some English, some Italian. After I while the ‚fasten youth seatbelt light went off and I was free to move around the plane. I started talking with one stewardess. Some inquiry about the night transport in Budapest, but also because she was attractive. She was from Hungary, in February Ryanair opened a base in Budapest - the final destination of the crew for that day. The pilot was excellent; we landed about 10 minutes earlier. But I lost my Italian friend. He must have left the plane while I was still engaged in conversation with the stewardess. She advised me about the night buses and shuttles, I will find out.

      Luckily, I run into Francesco, which was the name of the Italian guy, in the arrival lounge. We booked a seat in a special shuttle bus that would take me directly to the Keleti Palyaudvar Station, and him to the city. It was the best option. Night buses would take hours to get there. We had to wait about 20 minutes for the shuttle. Francesco went for a cigarette, I was, rather shyly, spotting the arrivals gate, fostering my false pretence that the stewardess would walk through the barrier with other passengers. Actually, there were some stewardesses travelling with the shuttle busses.

     Finally, my bus was due so I left Francesco and my hopes at the airport. I arrived at the Keleti Palyaudvar at 00:40. Just wanted to enter the building and lie down on the bench. Actually, I wanted to lie down somewhere else but go figure. However, the station was closed from midnight till 3:45 in the morning. Several people were camping at the front door. I did not feel like sleeping outside, rather went for a walk. For a few hours I was a homeless. Not so bad, but not enough to make a decent living.

      I met some guys, old rockers, at one of the near the station. While I was talking to them, I spotted the prices of the drinks. You could get a beer for 300 Forints, which is approximately one euro. Quite cheap. I left the rockers and walked along the Rakoczi Street. I met real homeless people, one of them had only one leg. Authentic experience. Two different worlds collide at night. The very poor who fed upon the rubbish, and those enjoying the parties and pubs. They are the source of the fresh rubbish.  

       Around the corner was some big square with a nice hotel, so I took a picture. There was a fast-food nearby. Prices were really low; the whole trip reminded me of the Bratislava experience from the Euro trip movie. I decided to go to a McDonald, to use the toilet. I had seen one before, still open. It was full of the typical 2 a.m. customers – drunken youth and few people who work late shifts. I got an ice cream for just about 50 cents, and 20 minutes of internet connection for 30. Amazing. Eating the ice cream I chatted with my friends about my homeless experience in Budapest.

     When my time was over I decided to retreat back to the station. While walking, I was approached by some woman sitting on the street. She was a hooker and offered me sex for just 15 Euros. However, she was so ugly that I gave her 50 cents if she leaves. At the station I met some guys from Austria. They arrived to Budapest at 22:00, for the festival. Assholes, had left their baggage in the left luggage office and headed for the city. They returned after the midnight only to realise that their baggage and clothes were locked up inside the station. It was getting pretty cold outside. Poor them. But I did not offer them my jacket. There are no rules when you live on the street. Survival of the fittest.

     I told them about my experience with the hooker. We talked in German for a while, walked around the station, actually it was nice night out. At 3:45, we lined up at the door. Finally, we were let in. I bought my ticket to Sturovo and lied down on a bench. After a while I was woken up by an employee. It is not allowed to sleep at the ticket office. Luckily, my train was already at the station so I got on and lied down in a coupe. I slept about 20 minutes, because I can not sleep on a public transport. My parent were waiting in Sturovo. I do not understand their logic. The drove the 50km to pick me up, but refused to drive the 80km to the Budapest.

Valencia - fiesta, football and free swimming

     Transport
The First thing I fell in love with in Valencia was the effective system of transport. (Maybe some of you won’t agree, but before my arrival I had spent one week in London during the Olympics). With population around 900,000, Valencia is the third biggest city in Spain; but five metro lines are enough to cut the travelling short. One station is located right at the end of the airport terminal. I bough the tickets in the machine - 10,90 EUR for ten journeys. Twenty-five minutes later I got off in the city centre, just walking distance the arena and museum of bullfighting. From the nearby square Plaza de Colon you can take side streets to the Plaza Ayunatamiento Square, which boasts the town hall building. To get to the Plaza de la Reina Square with the Cathedral and the Miguelete Tower takes another 5 minute. Some of the city’s top-sights can be visited in one hour.

    Swimming in the sea
 Apart from the proximity of all sight, many people would fancy the hot climate. The temperature is between 30 – 35 degrees C° for the most of the day. In winter, it won’t descend below 10. It is really worth going to the beach. The journey takes approximately 25 minutes with metro, but you have to change trains. Local resident therefore use bicycles, operating on similar scheme than the Boris bikes in London. The beach is free as well, unlike all the over-priced swimming pools and aqua parks in Slovakia. The sea is hemmed by typical palm alee, nice hotels – one of them resembles the Greek Pantheon - and shops. Just thirty minutes away from the rush of the city, you can have a swim in the sea and reinforce the connection with nature.

    

Football
As a football fan, I could not leave out the visit at Mestalla Stadium, the home ground of the local FC. The guide showed us around the whole stadium. We started in the VIP lodge, enjoyed the view from the tribune, touched the pitch. With our feet, of course. After that, we went to the dressing rooms. I was surprised by the rather modest furniture, practice introduced by Rafael Benitez. According to him, the players should not feel too much comfortable prior to the match as it might interfere with their performance. Therefore the home team would sit on wooden benches, whereas the guests can enjoy comfortable armchairs.

     In press centre one can be pictured sitting behind the microphone, as if he has just signed a contract. Finally, we stopped in front of a wall covered by the names of all players that have ever played for Valencia. The most important ones were highlighted. Now I know what does it mean to „to be written in the team‘s history in capital letters."

 




Bullfighting
Another favourite sport in Valencia is bullfighting. Due to the protests, the rules changed and the match does not end in stabbing the bull with a dagger. Both the animal and the matador walk away, accompanied by the cheering crowd. I expected that a bull fight would be something like a dirty, sweat man hanging on to the raging bull. However, it is an elegant performance in three acts, topped by the matador dancing around the bull, waving the red cape - mulleta. The best bullfighters are as popular as the top footballers and make good money. Before, though, they have to undergo special training at the academy.

 Tapas and siesta
Apart from the touristic attractions, I saw a typical Spanish Union strike. I watched them from my balcony - a crowd followed by two policemen. Many people are unemployed, but sometimes it seems that they actually don’t care. They would hang around the bars carelessly. I have tried the typical tapas. Before, I thought it is a proper meal. But tapas are just different appetizers, usually served on a piece of bread. It can be fish, sea food, ham, vegetables, or tortilla. The very sense of tapas is to share, enjoy your food with friends. Also, I used to go shopping. From the retail chains known in Slovakia, they have only Carrefour. On the other hand, the shops boast of wide variety of fresh fish and fruit. I liked the apricot. Actually, I am not sure, because I do no to know whether the word melocoton refers to apricot, or yellow breed of peach.

     Those are my impressions. Spain is an ideal country for holiday, but I probably would not be able to work here, distracted by all the relaxing atmosphere and warmth. No wonder that Spanish take siesta in the afternoon. 

What to do and not to do in Paris

I spent Paris only two days altogether, yet I can tick it off on the map of Europe. Initially, I gave up al hopes that I will get there, because it was in the middle of February and Slovakia was tormented by heavy snowing. I feared the weather conditions at the airports and also whether my train to Bratislava would be on time. At the station I noticed an announcement that certain train from Zvolen had 90 minutes delay. Luckily, it wasn’t mine and I arrived to Bratislava only 20 minutes over the scheduled arrival. I met the other participants of the journey in Avion shopping centre from where we took a bus to the airport.

1 Never bargain with the street vendors

      In Paris we were surprised by comparatively warm weather. No signs of snow and although it was around midnight, the temperature was bearable. Next day I even saw people jogging in the streets wearing shorts and thin jackets. The big cities must have something that warms the climate, maybe the warmth emitted by the buildings. We decided to walk from the Porte Maillot station to our hostel. At the Eiffel Tower we were approached by black men selling souvenirs. I asked one how much was a model of the tower. But it was a big mistake. He was bothering me for about 10 minutes, scaling down the price from 10 to 4 Euros. Finally, I bought two key rings; at least I have some presents. Never start bargaining with these vendors, because you won´t get rid of them.

2 Use the Eiffel Tower as an orientation point

          Our hostel was set up in a Spanish style and in the evening it could have been really lovely, if it was not for the cold. Fiesta, sangria and so on. Now, we were given a croissant and tea for breakfast and could hit the city. We could not visit all the important sights in just two days; however we managed to see much of them. Mainly on the first day. We started at the Eiffel Tower; it was over a corner from our hostel. Actually, it showed us the path the night before, because it gives out luminous light like a lighthouse. The view form the Eiffel Tower is really beautiful, when the sky is clear one can see the whole Paris. At least, we could catch a glace of the sights that were too far to visit.

3 Ask for discounts, it pays off

      From the tower we headed for the metro station. We bought a whole day travel card, which was up about 7 Euros. The metro in Paris operates 14 lines which really speeds up the transport. In a tour guide we learned that one should ask for discounts, refer to student cards and so on. We tried and it actually worked. Similarly, we got discount in the Catacombs. In Louvre we were for free. Next stop was the Notre Dame. Originally gothic church, but as the work progressed, the characteristic of later architectonic styles are palpable on its arcades and decorations. We checked the church from all sides, withstood the temptation to star shopping for souvenirs and across a bridge walked to the other bank of Seine. The bridge was full of lockers. I do not now the exact purpose, but most probably they being attached by young couples to cement their love. Overall, Paris has quite romantic atmosphere, and not only because it was two days after the Valentine’s Day.

4 Do not try to speak English with the French

We walked around the Sorbonne University and got on the metro to get to the catacombs. We spent few moments looking for the entrance into the souterrain, where we claimed our first discount. Actually, the second if I count travel cards. Initially, we could see only stones and old pillars in the catacombs, later skulls, and finally decorated burials. Nice but not necessary experience.

     Next, we wanted to visit Louvre and therefore were looking for a short cut. I asked some local residents about he way. French are very peculiar about their language, do not fancy learning English. I have known few and most of them had problems to understand more complicated clauses. Thence I decided to address them in Spanish and it worked. Maybe because of the fact that it is also a Romanic language, but few minutes later we were at Louvre.

5 Do not miss the enormous painting just opposite to Mona Lisa

      I did not expect that Louvre was such an enormous building. The entrance through the pyramid is well known from the Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown. We managed to bargain the entrance fee from 10 Euros to..... free.

      Two hours to the closing time, we could hardly cover the most important pictures. I do not understand the huge crowds in front of Mona Lisa. It is just a small picture, 90 x 60 centimetres. I preferred the painting on a wall just opposite to the smiling lady. Big canvas by Veronese, about 6 x 9 metres, depicting the Wedding in Cane. Moreover, there were hardly any visitors so you can study it in graphic detail.

6 Do not travel to Paris by own car

      In the evening we enjoyed a walk around the Champ’s Elise, to take some pictures with the Arch of Triumphs. It is surrounded by six-lane roundabout. If it is not closed because of the final etape of the Tour de France, the cars would circulate there at any day time. It was fascinating to watch all the drivers how do they behave. No one understood the right of way but them. All of a sudden a huge surge of cars would stop and let the cars coming from the opposite direction go. A foreigner would crash his car definitely.

7 Nice town, but beware of prices

     Next day I took part in shopping at the Champ’s Elise. It is one of the main avenues. Paris is the city of fashion (although I am not sure whether it was not taken over by Milan), lest the nosey street vendors, it bears up to the French elegance. It was nice and clean - at least the centre where we were staying. In contrast with London, there weren’t so many immigrants and their small businesses. Maybe it is the effect of the French immigration politics, or the time shortage.

    The buildings are elegant, mostly classical or neo-classical style. Prices were comparatively higher than in the British metropolis, and significantly higher than in Slovakia. Mainly those of the services and food. On the other hand, most of the restaurants meet the highest standards, even if it was just a bageteria. You would not see many fast foods there.

8 Recommend your country to the foreigners

      Towards the end of our trip, we visited the La Defence. It is a business quarter, dominated by some kind of concrete cube. Actually, it is not cube, but a block with a hole inside. I do not know what does it symbolize, but I could see branches of many world-known companies. That was all of Paris.

      On a plane, I was joined by a young French on the next seat. He was travelling with his friends to Bratislava, for a trip. Nice, me and my friends were just leaving Paris. We gave them some advice what to do and what not do. Pleasing, if someone asks about your country, even if he is interested mainly in hostels and bars. Two hour later, we returned to the cold Bratislava.