I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto.

That was my exact thought as we arrived in Paris. The day started off well enough (though early) as we were whisked from the FSU study center to St. Pancras station via scheduled taxis. Basic security screenings and then we all settled in to catch up on sleep as we chugged through the chunnel on our way from London to Paris. We arrived and deboarded no problem. We didn't even have any problems meeting our FSU Paris person who had all our metro tickets and basic instructions.

So what exactly went 'wrong'? When did I know that we weren't in Kansas anymore? Was when our Paris contact (it sounds so Cold War, right?) told us to be constantly on the look out for pickpockets because it was a HUGE problem? No, because pickpocketing is a problem in every big city.

No, reality struck home when a uniformed guard, armed with an AK-47 strolled through the middle of our group as we made our way to the metro lines. Disclaimer: this post may be full of rants about first world problems (I am fully aware of this and will continue to rant anyway). I grew up in a military family, in heavy military areas, so seeing men and women in uniform is pretty standard, and is usually very comforting. This, however, was completely out of my comfort zone. Not because the soldier was armed. That, too, is pretty common. It was because the soldier was armed, with a semi-automatic weapon, in a civilian area. I didn't snap a picture of the soldier at the train station because I was too shocked to think about it.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur as we were shoved onto the Paris metro while carrying our backpacks, rendering several of our group incapable of moving with the crowd as their only means of support. When we arrived at the Louvre, I was shell-shocked, hot, and tired, so was grateful for the initial reprieve afforded by the museum pass (which mean we got to go in the priority entrance, in the shade, with no wait). I didn't spend too much time in the Louvre (unfortunately) because I couldn't handle the crowds after the metro ride and had to go somewhere and relax for a few minutes. This was when I got the shot of the soldiers above, as several of them were making regular rounds of the square.

After our group reformed, we made our way to this awesome artisanal bread shop where I got a sandwich made on the BEST baguette I have ever eaten. This place had apparently won several awards and I highly approve. Plus, the cost of a sandwich, drink, and dessert was less than I would have paid for a crappy Subway sandwich meal. Win!

Where might you think we ate such a feast? Well under the Eiffel Tower, of course. Where else would you enjoy fresh bread and raspberry tarts? Lunch was a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the morning, especially since we knew that lunch was to be followed by...drum roll, please...an elevator ride to the second level of the Eiffel Tower. Our tickets didn't buy us a ride up to the top, but we also didn't have to climb from the bottom. The views were astounding! Looking out at Paris from that landmark was easily my favorite thing of the day. This was partially because of the views and partially because of the winds. It has been unseasonably warm in London, and treking around a hot Paris with a heavy backpack doesn't do much for your sense of humor.

We took a short break on the banks of the Seine as we waited for our river cruise. Oh, wait! Did I fail to mention that this particular part of the Seine was DIRECTLY BELOW NOTRE DAME? How could that have slipped my mind? LOL. By this point I was nearing exhaustion, so I didn't bother to try and get any closer, but we got plenty of great pictures on the river cruise. I took way too many photos on the river cruise...so many so, in fact, that I wasn't able to use my nice camera for the rest of the trip because the memory card ran out of room (and no, I couldn't get any of the other cards to reformat properly).

The views of the Eiffel Tower from the river were even more stunning than those from land and I'm only sad that I'm not a better photographer. I'm happy with a lot of the images I got, but they were all dumb luck.

The day was completed with dinner at this cute little hole-in-the-wall place with the best entertainment and freely flowing wine. Guess what made the dinner memorable.

Surprisingly, that's pretty much all I did in Paris in three days. Saturday was spent lounging around in a park near Notre Dame, doing NOTHING but reading. A group of us visited the Catacombs on Sunday, and let me tell you, nothing is more humbling than walking through a very small portion of the millions of human remains that fill the Paris Catacombs. The reverance with which these remains were treated was palpable and it was refreshing to see death treated not as macabre but as sacred.