Several times during previous trips to France, we got caught up in horrible traffic while returning to Paris.  About the only good that had come from those experiences is that we learned the two French words bouchon (literally, a cork) and embouteillage (something bottled up), both used to describe congested traffic.  Suzie had timed our trip to Normandy to avoid a repeat experience.

Unfortunately, as we were having breakfast our first full day in Bayeux, we read in the local paper that the day we had planned to return to Paris was predicted by the national traffic agency (the oddly named Bison Futé) to be the single worst traffic day of the year in France, the day of the grand chassé croisé de l’été, when the July vacationers return to Paris and the August vacationers leave.  Drivers were advised to avoid the roads from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m.  Since the freeway into Paris from the east goes through two long, long tunnels (one under La Defense), we had visions of sitting in the car with the boys choking on exhaust fumes in the heat while inching along at 2 km/hour in a car with a manual transmission.

So after considering the problem, we decided to change our plans, to pack up the night before, to get up very early on Saturday (5:30 a.m.), jump in the car and go.  Although this would mean a day less in Normandy, it would presumably mean no exhaust poisoning.

(As an aside, some of this decision no doubt came from the effect of staying in the inexpensive, but odd, Motel Etap, just off the freeway in Bayeux.  We’d stayed there because it was cheap enough that the boys could have their own room.  The chain must be owned by a German or other Northern-European firm, because it was very spartan, with small Hong-Kong sized rooms, modern sparse decor — if you can call a bed, a table, and a plastic stool decor — a small LCD TV, the tiniest sink I’ve ever seen in a hotel.  But, on the extremely positive side, the bed was excellent, the shower was great, the room was incredibly clean, and, best of all, it was dead quiet.  The walls must have been made of concrete or something, you could not hear a thing from any of the other rooms, no voices, no TV, no flushing toilets, nothing.  Still, it got to be very claustrophobic, even though we were there very little.  We also had an unfortunate thing happen right at the end, when we were sitting at a table in the lobby eating a cheese, meat, apples, and baguette dinner we’d gotten from the grocery store, when we were rather rudely informed by woman on duty that it was interdit because they also had a small food service there, and that we’d have to eat outside.  This was at 5:15 p.m., we were the only ones that had been in the lobby for 10 minutes, and my first reaction was to say, “Vous plaisantez, non?”  but nicely left instead.  Surely a stupid move from a business perspective, since it really ruined our view of the entire chain (unfair, I know, but that’s how it is) and gained them absolutely nothing, but hey, rules are rules.)

Since we were leaving early the next morning we decided to go into Bayeux one last time, mostly to satisfy the boys’ crepe cravings, which they duly satisfied while  Suzie and I walked around taking in the pretty dusk views.

We managed to get packed up, showered, and ready to go before too late, and were up at 5:30 the next morning and on the road by 6:00. We saw almost no traffic. Maybe that’s because we beat it all, although press reports suggest that our friends at Bison Futé may have blown the prediction, except for the Rhone Valley. If we missed the day we’d planned in Normandy, we gained an easy trip back (we were in Paris by 9 a.m., and it seemed like much less than 3 hours) and an extra day in Paris.

Suzie and the boys took a nap while I blogged. After they woke up, it was time to return the rental car to its designated drop-off spot, a parking garage just south of the Air France “terminal” located near Invalides. Suzie and I had mapped out a route, but we went off track from the get-go, resulting in an unintentional jaunt into Clichy and an accidental excursion onto the Peripherique, but we eventually got back on track. As with the trip to pick up the car, the highlight was driving about 270 degrees around the Arc de Triomphe at l’Etoile, from Avenue de Wagram all the way around to the Champs-Elysees.  A wild ride in a zone seemingly without rules, but the Kangoo and I avoided all obstacles and soon found ourselves cruising down one of the most famous streets in the world, completely cool and in control.  Definitely a highlight.

After dropping off the car, Suzie and I walked around the 7th Arrondissement, one of our favorite areas. While walking down Rue Ste Dominique, we each found something we were looking for: me a boulangerie with huge pieces of chocolate torte for 1 euro 80, and Suzie an inexpensive, but chic, women’s clothing store. She ended up buying several pieces of very attractive clothing, in just her style, for very, very reasonable prices, after which we ate the torte and continued our walk.

One of the reasons Paris is such a wonderful city to visit is that there are new things to discover wherever you turn. This day, it was two things: A very unique building called “L’immeuble de Lavirotte,” apparently well-known for its over-the-top style, evident from these photos:

Then, nearby, another unusual building, called the Salle Adyar, a theater built in an unique, non-Parisian style:

This appears at the end of the short alley on which the theater sits, an interesting piece of art or decoration:

A word about the pictures today. When I used to golf, several times I read a suggestion that it was a good idea to try to play around using only one club and a putter — say, a seven iron. The idea was that having to adapt your game to using only one club would improve your game. Several times I’ve done the equivalent thing with my camera, using a different lens than normal. This day, for most of the day, it was a telephoto lens, which forced me to take pictures of smaller areas or smaller portions of things or, alternatively, step back some. So if some of the pictures look odd, that’s why.

I mention that here because the area we were in was near the Eiffel Tower, and it would come into view at unexpected times and at unexpected angles. One of the most photogenic things in the world, in my opinion, I couldn’t stop snapping it. I’ll spare you all of them, but here is one, best viewed in large or original for the detail.

We walked down the Champs de Mars to the Ecole Militaire, in front of which they’ve erected a peace memorial:

And a proper use of telephoto lens, a close up of the clock on the Ecole Militaire:

From there we walked down the Avenue de la Motte-Picquet, one of our favorite streets, and had a light dinner.

After dinner we stumbled upon a Monoprix, a part of which was a small bookstore, so we indulged ourselves by buying some French books to read back in the States. Then it was back to the Metro, the 6 to Etoile, the 2 to Villiers, the 3 to Levallois, and home.

Now I’m only one day behind in blogging, with but two days left in Paris. Crud.

• Omaha Beach is Peaceful and Solemn and Sad
• The Last Two Days in Paris, Day One

Categories: France, Travel -- France

Tags: Bison Fute, Chassé Croisé, Motel Etap, Normandy, Paris