EuroDisney Spring Break 2010

Last week we took the train to just outside of Paris and visited EuroDisney. Eric will do a much better of describing the parks, so I'll leave that to him. Plus, Eric and I have always traveled fast and hard (It may be, according to Disney, "a small world after all," but there is so much to see! We don't want to miss a thing, and when you are seeing it all on foot, it's pretty huge after all.) and amusement parks are even more breadth over depth. So by the second day in the parks (the 3rd day of our trip) I was tired and just wanted to go home. I don't mean the house where all my stuff is. I mean I was so exhausted that, as we stood in line again for Crush's Coaster at 4:30 on Wednesday with a bunch of other pushy people, I wanted God to call me Home.

So ... I am going to tell you about the train trip to Paris, while I was still fresh and the world was lovely. Train travel may not be as inexpensive as it was in the past, but it is very convenient. We all get to relax. And Mannheim to Paris takes less than 3 hours (although you have to get from Paris out to the 'burbs where Disney is located - 2 subway trains and an hour later. But the subway comes up right at the Disney gates and a free bus whisked us to our hotel.)

From the train window rural France looks like rural Germany, so you aren't really aware when you cross the border. I had a window seat, so, after watching an episode of LOST (Which Eric thoughtfully downloaded for me) and an episode of It's always Sunny in Philadelphia and spending time deciding who on the train was going to Paris and who was returning to Paris, I was able to lose myself in the view and relax. We sped by mile after mile of farmland. It was a patchwork of fertile pastures and fallow fields, gradients of green like those little cards you get at hardware stores when you are trying to decide what color to paint your kitchen. Every once in a while there would be a single tractor slowly turning the earth the way you fold eggs whites into batter, prepping the earth to plant wheat or corn or lavender. It alternately rained, then the sun shone. We ate our snacks. And, according to Emily, I smiled slightly and closed my eyes when we went through a tunnel. I really just felt joyful to be soaking it all in.

The Paris East train station was bustling, as train stations always are. There were tourists and the French. They can be easily identified by their preternatural lankiness (that is not connected to their size or stature), and an appearance of being perfectly groomed, yet perfectly disheveled. Even the children have an easy elegance that makes me feel lumbering and poorly dressed.

Having finished all our train snacks, we were ready for dinner. There were sandwich stands, but it was pretty chilly in the station and we wanted to find a place to sit before we began to figure out which subway trains and connections we needed to make. We found a self-serve place with Ratatouille Lasagna (hot, cheesy and stuffed with vegetables. Perfect!), rolls and a vinaigrette dip (it was for salad, but a crusty roll dipped in vinaigrette is sublime). I spoke to the cashier (who was stereotypically French in her instant boredom of me) in a clash of French and German, and was thankful I only needed to say a few words to her. (After that I drilled myself in my own head every time I anticipated needing to speak - "Say Bonjour. Bonjour. Bonjour. Not ich morchte (German)! Say Je voudrais!" It's like seeing someone counting dance steps or slightly moving their lips to say Left, right, left, right. Sad to see the mental wheels turning hard and creaky.

Finally we were on our first subway train before connecting a few stops later for a 40 minute route to Disney. Paris subway at rush hour. Ready, ready, now push! Squeezed in, door at my back, 5 more people get in behind me in a human tidal wave. Poor Vance. At least I am breathing the higher air and can turn my head. Next stop. More people get on (no one gets off). Next stop same. Lots seem to get off at our connection, but then they all want to go to the suburbs too. The next train is a double decker. Vance gets a seat next to a guy who is resting his head on his hands like he had a long day. People are reading gossip mags and newspapers, doing crosswords and sleeping, all ready to get home after a long day at work. Here's where I notice that their perfect facades are looking more disheveled than groomed. She needs a pedicure. His perfectly starched dress shirt is gaping at the middle and he's not wearing an undershirt. That guy's expensive shoes are hopelessly scuffed. Her eyeliner is smeared and her hem is frayed. Their lankiness is collapsed into dirty subway seats.

The guy with the scuffed shoes moves his bag so I can get to the now-open window seat next to him. And he smiles at me. We're all just people trying to get somewhere to rest. And it's almost our stop.

So that's my Paris Day-1. Love to all -Val