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innerSpaceman · 07-14-2006, 07:58 PM

Nice link, G.C., to memory lane. Cut to the end ... and (for anyone who cares to know what we are talking about) ...

It was one of the longest fireworks display I have ever seen. So long, in fact, that it started on Bastille Day and ended on some other day. It was now 12:30 a.m. and - uh-oh - the Metro system runs only till 1:00 a.m. Anyone who doesn’t make in on a train in the next half an hour is going to be without a ride. And the last train out to Marne la Vallee leaves from a place pretty far from here at about 1:30. Yikes

We head to the nearest Metro station, but it is jammed. Okay, fine, maybe one a bit further away from the action. So off we go to the next station down the line. But it, too, is jam packed. Just a set of stairs filled with people heading down underground to a station literally overflowing with folks. In fact, the only movement on the stairs is from people pushing through the crowds to get back up - - the looks on their faces overcoming any language barrier - - Don’t Go Down There!!

The streets, too, are jammed with people. One hundred thousand men, women and children with nowhere to go. A great many of them are, like us, just going from Metro station to Metro station, hoping to get a break. Finally, we come to a station at the elevated portion of the line - this time with a crowd of people on the stairs leading up to the platform. While I was reluctant to be the “canary” and head underground to check things out at the subterranean stations, I had no problem with pushing through the crowd to get a look at the situation on the train platform above us. And just as I reached the top, a train pulled into the station. Inside the cars, people were literally plastered to the windows, flattened against every visible surface. When the train doors opened, no one got off - - and no one got on. The train was already packed so tight that no one could enter. I thought I had seen crowded Metro trains before (and crowded Subway trains and Bart trains and what you), but ohmygawd!

It was hopeless. After that train left the station, no more trains passed by. It was after one a.m. The Metro had shut down. Upwards of 98,000 people were stranded in the Invalides Quarter ... and Zapp and me - - well, we were stranded in Paris for the night.

At that point, we are reeeallly glad to have Gemini Cricket and Ralphie as our pals, cause what else would pals do for each other at this moment but (hopefully, hopefully) invite us to spend the night at their place. And of course, Ralphie and G.C. are such splendidly good guys that that’s exactly what they did. Happy that they could return the favor, they invited us to spend the night in their hotel room in the Latin Quarter. Hurray!

Now all we had to do was, um, get there.

Ugh, there was nothing for it but to walk. And walk and walk and walk some more. We had plenty of company, as thousands of people were also stuck with no way home but their two feet. And so we walked through St-German des Pres and through the Latin Quarter. All the while getting further and further away from the center of town. The crowds walking with us thinned and eventually disappeared. By two in the morning, we stopped passing cafes with customers and started passing cafes closing up shop. If there was any revelry and celebration going on overnight for Bastille Day in Paris, we had gotten too far away from civilization to notice. Mile after mile, kilometer after kilometer. After four days walking all over Disneyland, which was preceded by four days walking all over Paris, my legs were pretty much bloody stumps. This march was grueling and evil. Latin Quarter, my eye! We were way past the Latin Quarter and well into Montparnasse by now. If Ralphie and G.C. were under the impression that their hotel was in the Latin Quarter, they were woefully misinformed. In fact, the part of town that Ralphie and the Cricket were inexorably leading us into was kinda creepy and lonely and dank. Granted, it was the middle of the night - but I was not happy about where we seemed to be heading.

Just then, the unmistakable blare of Euro police sirens ripped through the night. And suddenly, a police cruiser zipped past us on the boulevard. And another, and another. And some more. And then a few more. Police car after police car - - a convoy of nearly 25 police vehicles streaming down the boulevard at 2:00 in the morning. What was it? Some big terrorist bust? Some horrible Princess Di-like disaster? We changed course and followed the convoy for a few blocks, but soon lost them. Our momentary excitement faded into fruitlessness, and all we had to show for it was a few extra blocks to walk.

continued in next post ... hey, the original mouseplanet story was like 30 pages ... this is the last page:

07-14-2006, 07:58 PM	#14
innerSpaceman Kink of Swank Join Date: Jan 2005 Location: Inner Space Posts: 13,075	Nice link, G.C., to memory lane. Cut to the end ... and (for anyone who cares to know what we are talking about) ... It was one of the longest fireworks display I have ever seen. So long, in fact, that it started on Bastille Day and ended on some other day. It was now 12:30 a.m. and - uh-oh - the Metro system runs only till 1:00 a.m. Anyone who doesn’t make in on a train in the next half an hour is going to be without a ride. And the last train out to Marne la Vallee leaves from a place pretty far from here at about 1:30. Yikes We head to the nearest Metro station, but it is jammed. Okay, fine, maybe one a bit further away from the action. So off we go to the next station down the line. But it, too, is jam packed. Just a set of stairs filled with people heading down underground to a station literally overflowing with folks. In fact, the only movement on the stairs is from people pushing through the crowds to get back up - - the looks on their faces overcoming any language barrier - - Don’t Go Down There!! The streets, too, are jammed with people. One hundred thousand men, women and children with nowhere to go. A great many of them are, like us, just going from Metro station to Metro station, hoping to get a break. Finally, we come to a station at the elevated portion of the line - this time with a crowd of people on the stairs leading up to the platform. While I was reluctant to be the “canary” and head underground to check things out at the subterranean stations, I had no problem with pushing through the crowd to get a look at the situation on the train platform above us. And just as I reached the top, a train pulled into the station. Inside the cars, people were literally plastered to the windows, flattened against every visible surface. When the train doors opened, no one got off - - and no one got on. The train was already packed so tight that no one could enter. I thought I had seen crowded Metro trains before (and crowded Subway trains and Bart trains and what you), but ohmygawd! It was hopeless. After that train left the station, no more trains passed by. It was after one a.m. The Metro had shut down. Upwards of 98,000 people were stranded in the Invalides Quarter ... and Zapp and me - - well, we were stranded in Paris for the night. At that point, we are reeeallly glad to have Gemini Cricket and Ralphie as our pals, cause what else would pals do for each other at this moment but (hopefully, hopefully) invite us to spend the night at their place. And of course, Ralphie and G.C. are such splendidly good guys that that’s exactly what they did. Happy that they could return the favor, they invited us to spend the night in their hotel room in the Latin Quarter. Hurray! Now all we had to do was, um, get there. Ugh, there was nothing for it but to walk. And walk and walk and walk some more. We had plenty of company, as thousands of people were also stuck with no way home but their two feet. And so we walked through St-German des Pres and through the Latin Quarter. All the while getting further and further away from the center of town. The crowds walking with us thinned and eventually disappeared. By two in the morning, we stopped passing cafes with customers and started passing cafes closing up shop. If there was any revelry and celebration going on overnight for Bastille Day in Paris, we had gotten too far away from civilization to notice. Mile after mile, kilometer after kilometer. After four days walking all over Disneyland, which was preceded by four days walking all over Paris, my legs were pretty much bloody stumps. This march was grueling and evil. Latin Quarter, my eye! We were way past the Latin Quarter and well into Montparnasse by now. If Ralphie and G.C. were under the impression that their hotel was in the Latin Quarter, they were woefully misinformed. In fact, the part of town that Ralphie and the Cricket were inexorably leading us into was kinda creepy and lonely and dank. Granted, it was the middle of the night - but I was not happy about where we seemed to be heading. Just then, the unmistakable blare of Euro police sirens ripped through the night. And suddenly, a police cruiser zipped past us on the boulevard. And another, and another. And some more. And then a few more. Police car after police car - - a convoy of nearly 25 police vehicles streaming down the boulevard at 2:00 in the morning. What was it? Some big terrorist bust? Some horrible Princess Di-like disaster? We changed course and followed the convoy for a few blocks, but soon lost them. Our momentary excitement faded into fruitlessness, and all we had to show for it was a few extra blocks to walk. continued in next post ... hey, the original mouseplanet story was like 30 pages ... this is the last page:
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