The bus pulled into the underground parking at the Louvre, and we twiddled our thumbs a bit for the group tickets. Security was annoying, again. There were various articles people had to check, like umbrellas, and finally the group made it through the final metal detector and into the museum.
I had downloaded a Rick Steves walking tour (highly recommended), where we did a highlights tour, including Venus di Milo, Winged Victory, the Mona Lisa (at least I expected it to be small this time), the Coronation of Napoleon (at the Notre Dame, which we saw the next day), The Raft of the Medusa, Liberty Leading the People, and Michelanglo's sculptures, the Slaves. I did the same tour with Mom and Valerie four and a half years ago - I remembered some, and was glad to be able to see some again.
There were gardens near the Louvre I wanted to wander in, but the rain and wind had started, and we were hungry, not searching for more beauty or outdoor time right then, so we ducked under the palace connector of the Louvre and arrived in a bustling, metropolitan shopping district, funnily enough. We found a coffee shop that sold some pre-packaged food and took it with us to the meeting point back under the Louvre.
The Champs-Élysées led from the Louvre up to the Arc de Triomphe. We passed fancy car dealerships next to cinemas and jewelry stores, alongside fast food chains - it was a mishmash that worked well for some, since the McDonald's there is the most profitable in the world.
The bus then dropped us off at one of the eight spokes surrounding the Arc de Triomphe by the Champs-Élysées, and said it'd be back in two hours. Zach and Carolyn were also interested in climbing up the Arc (remember me and stairs!), but hadn't eaten, so we popped into a Brioche Dior and had some foodstuffs and caffeine.
With the dose of pep, we were ready for the steps. First, you take a flight down underneath the traffic circle around the Arc - much easier than playing Frogger through eight lanes of cars, but much less memorable as well. Then, you climb up past a ticket booth to get to the next line - you guessed it, security. We spent a while waiting, taking turns dashing to the front of the Arc to see a very intense Lady Liberty that Napoleon had asked for - though it was only completed after his death. He was also exiled and stuff, but when his remains were brought back, they were brought back under the bridge.
A cursory bag inspection happened just after the line we were in started forming into a random cluster of people, but we were climbing without anyone cutting in front of us on the chaos. There was a pause about 2/3 of the way up with a museum, but we were running low on time, so continued up the final two flights to the stone deck.
I had previously only been up at night - during the day you could really analyze the hypnotic circling of cars around the Arc, including the odd but sensical traffic pattern of those inside the circle yielding to those trying to enter. We figured because otherwise no one would ever get a chance to get in! We learned (from Rick) that insurance companies were so sick of dealing with accidents around the Arc de Triomphe that they would just split them all 50-50 instead of trying to figure out who was to blame.
We peered over at the skyscraper-studded "little Manhattan", back toward the Louvre, over to the Seine with Notre Dame floating in it, then up the hill to our own Montmartre. The rain had paused for us and that - still gray - view.
We galloped back down the stairs and under the underpass to make it back to the bus on time. Traffic was slow, so Carolyn and I had time to scout where we would do some wine shopping - the 3€ bottles that we saw in a shop window seemed like exactly what we needed to help us stay warm during the Irish's match that night.
Mark took this opportunity to nap; I chilled out with some reading; soon enough, the gang all got back together, all in their matching polos, to head to the stadium where the first rugby game of the rugby tour was about to begin!
It was still just 40 degrees, so some of us WAGS (wives and girlfriends) walked a few blocks to a "pizza pub" to get some snacks, drinks, and really to just not be in the cold. Emily, Holly, and Megan had saved us seats in the nearly empty bleachers - there were two women who had turned out for the Parc Olympic Rubgy Club - and had opened the wine for us.
The French PORC team pulled ahead early, but our boys started answering with a few tries before half. Pat, the Irish's organizer for the past few tours, came up to "coin check" the ladies and hang out with us a bit during the second half. We were cheering every time they scored some points, but we were also enjoying our sorority of WAGS and talked about just a few things that had absolutely nothing to do with the game.
It was then helpful when I went over to offer some of the beers the boys had brought us to the other women in the stands - they reassured me that the Irish were up. One was married to one of the PORC players; the other was her sister, though a rugby player in her own right. The rugby player was hesitant to accept the beer since she had a touch game early the next morning. Let's just say that by the time she'd hung out with the team at the drink-up later, she was more interested in chilling with the team than her game (whoops!)
The boys got together for a picture, then it was a few block walk to the bar where the other team was hosting the happy hour after the game. It was nearing 10pm at this point, and the boys hadn't really eaten, so when a giant spread of cheeses and charcuterie was presented, they dove in like hounds.
I spent a lot of the time chatting with the French women - though I did help myself to the remaining cheese when the event ended. Wrapped that third of a wheel of brie up and stuck it in my bag!
The players were really enjoying chanting "liberté" on the short ride back to the hotel. I personally felt "libertéd" when I dropped off my bag and the extra few layers before heading back to French Flair - the rugby bar by the hotel - to keep "fraternité"ing with the other team.
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