11 June, 1998

Minneapolis
1:10pm flight. We waited in the 757 ~1hr for takeoff, airport was busy

Philadelphia
7:10pm flight to Philadelphia was delayed ~2hr. After we boarded and the DC10 and it pulled away from the gate, a mechanical problem was discovered and we were delayed for another hour while the pilots consulted with mechanics over the radio. Finally, we took off and headed for Amsterdam.

12 June, 1998

Amsterdam Schipol
We arrived at Schipol at 1105. It was an easy place to get around, and I remember being surprised to find that everyone spoke English as well as they could speak Dutch.

After walking around with luggage until we got tired of the weight, we decided to store it in a locker until we found out what to do next. We then sat at a small espresso shop and drank cappuccinos and contemplated our next move.

Later, we found a tourist office that was staffed with people to help the many tourists find accommodations, buy tram tickets, and find things to do. We chose a line and waited for a long time to finally speak with the employee. She was young and attractive, and very willing to help us. She seemed to be working her first day in the office, with a more experienced employee at her side to help. Guy asked about hostels and she said she would check. On a computer screen, she located an opening at "Hans Brinker," later to be known to us as Hans Brinker's Budget Hotel. The worker told us that we must check in by 13:47, or at least that is how I remember it. We purchased a train ticket to get us to Central Station (CS), where she said we could catch tram 1, 2, or 4 to Keizer Straat. We settled for a three day tram pass as well, to get us around during our stay and back to CS for our yet to be booked train to Paris.

We immediately got on a train to CS. At CS, we had to watch the other people for a while and ask a driver for help before we figured out how it worked. Once we understood how it worked, getting around was remarkably quick and easy.

We got off at Keizer Straat and quickly glanced at the reservation sheet we had gotten at the tourist office. Both of us read 136 Keizer Straat, when it actually was written as 136 Kerk Straat. We were standing at about 500 Keizer at that point, so we started walking. For an hour we walked, but 136 Keizer Straat turned out to be an empty building.

We decided, after another hour or wandering around wondering what to do, to find a restaurant and have a drink and gather our thoughts. It was past 14:00. Guy got change for a bill and used the phone to call the hotel. He found that it was after 13:47 that we were to check in. Guy also noticed that it was 136 Kerk Straat that we were supposed to be searching for.

We made it to the hotel and checked in. There was a long line, but it was nice to put the luggage down after carrying it for hours. Our room was a small shared occupancy room with a small bathroom. There were six bunks and six lockers. Not what I had hoped, but better than wandering the streets. We left our stuff and went down to the adjacent bar/cafeteria and had a beer.

13 June, 1998

We got up and had the free bread and jam and coffee breakfast provided by the hotel. The food didn't matter, because I was more interested in getting some water and taking a shower. I got my shower after getting a towel that smelled of cigarette smoke from the front desk. The bathroom was dirty, but it was nice to feel clean from a shower.

Our first task was to get a train ticket to Paris for the next day. We got two second class tickets on the French Thalys high-speed line at cost 75 gilders each (say, $40).

Later, we set out to see some museums. We went to the Royal Palace museum and looked around. I liked it, but Guy seemed bored. It was a big building with some interesting architecture. After that, we went to the Amsterdam Historical Museum. It was 1/2 hour from closing, so we decided not to go in. The desk worker was nice enough to tell us that Nigeria had beaten Spain 3-2, however. Big upset!

14 June, 1998

We slept late, so it was a rush to get out of the room by 10:00, the checkout time. We managed to get breakfast, but no shower. After checking out, we decided to go to CS, store our luggage, and look around. The departure for Paris was 13:54, so we had about three hours. We walked around the harbor most of that time and it was very nice.

We were not sure whether luggage was carry-on or checked. We spent a lot of time watching other people boarding international trains to figure this out, in fact. In the end, Guy asked a worker at a desk and the answer was that it is carry-on only. We felt stupid, but relieved.

The train was a high speed Thalys TGV line train from Amsterdam to The Hague to Rotterdam to Antwerp Belgium to Brussels and finally to Paris. The trip took four hours. We bought lunch on a dining car; a sandwich cost about $4. Our seats faced toward the back of the train and they were opposing two others which were occupied by two Americans who were working in Paris for Peoplesoft. They had managed to purchase tickets to the U.S. - Germany match from someone over the internet.

Paris
Paris was much more difficult than Amsterdam. It took us a while just to figure out what to do. We arrived at Gare Nord train station. I saw one called Gare St. Lazare on a map which was on the same street as our hotel, Les Jardin de Paris D'Amsterdam. Both were on Rue D'Amsterdam, so we decided to go there.

We tried to use a machine to buy Metro tickets, but we did not have coins and couldn't seem to get our credit cards to work. It asked for an access code, which I entered, but it said it was invalid. We had to resort to asking a worker behind a desk. "Do you speak English?" I asked, and she replied something I couldn't understand. I asked again and this time caught, "A little bit." Good. I asked for ten Metro tickets. Fr48 later ($8), we each had 5 tickets. We then wandered the station for a long time trying to figure out where to get on the metro. There were plenty of signs for SNCF and RER. Finally we found the signs with an 'M' in a circle and figured out that you choose a line number to take, find the end stop in the direction you want to go, and follow the sign with those two pieces of information on it. There were maps everywhere to help find this information.

We got on the Metro to St. Lazare. There, we wandered onto the streets of Paris for the first time. It was raining lightly, but we made it to the hotel fine. It felt good to finally be somewhere private we could temporarily call home.

We decided to go to the TGI Friday's I had read about on the internet to have dinner. We took the Metro following the directions I had printed from my computer. At the restaurant, we were greeted by an amazingly gorgeous young woman who spoke French. When we asked in English for a table, she switched to English and seated us. Everyone working in the restaurant spoke English, it being an American restaurant. It was a nice way to slowly submerge ourselves in the French culture.

15 June, 1998

We got up early intending to pick up our WC match tickets at the Paris Hilton, just a few blocks from the Eiffel Tower, where Gulliver's Travel had an office set up. Before this however, we needed to purchase a more economical Metro pass. The tickets are only good for a one way trip. I had read about the Carte Orange, a Monday-Sunday pass for Fr75 ($12), so we decided to get two of those. Again, we could not get our credit cards to work in the automatic machine, so we had to purchase from a desk worker. I got up the courage to recite a phrase I had memorized. The correct phrase was, "Je voudrais deux carte orange avec un coupon hebdomadaire" (I would like two orange cards for one week). I only said, "Je voudrais deux carte orange." The worker started speaking French and I had no idea what he was saying. Just as I started asking him if he knew English, an American standing in line behind us told me he was asking if we needed it for a week. Fortunately, the man behind the desk also started speaking English and we got the passes without any more difficulty.

The orange cards require a picture before they are valid. We tried to get ID photos from one of the photo machines in the station. I dropped Fr25 into the machine and nothing happened. I pushed the coin return button and it sounded as if the money were being returned, but there was no slot to retrieve the money from. Guy tried asking the two men at an information desk, but the best they could do was direct us to a phone number to call for the machine's operator.

We were running short on time so we decided to use two more of our Metro tickets to get to the Hilton. The closing time for getting the tickets was 12:00 and it was getting close to 11:00.

We got to the Hilton and got our tickets. There was a table set up nearby for tours by a company called Paris International. For Fr1000 (US$166) one would get a full day tour including a bus, 1 hour boat tour on the Seine, stops at Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower, and a 3 course lunch in a French restaurant. Guy and I had lunch at La Vatavia to discuss whether or not to take the tour. We decided that it would be a nice way to get our feet wet and get some ideas for sites to see. We completed the application and returned it and were told by the rep to meet back at the hotel on Wednesday at 9:30.

After returning to Gare St. Lazare we tried again to get ID photos from one of the photo machines in the station, this time from a more well kept machine in a small mall area. The most coinage either of us had was a Fr10 coin, just enough to get the cheap "portrait" sized photo. We took them simultaneously in different booths and found that the portraits were too big. Without a change machine in sight, we gave up for the day and went back to the hotel to prepare for the US-Germany match.

The Germany-USA Match
We left for the stadium via the Metro between 19:30 and 20:00 to try to beat the crowd. As we got closer, the French voices were more and more replaced by German speaking ones as Germans packed themselves onto the train. There were wearing the German colors red, yellow, and black.

Being surrounded by so many Germans, many of them loud and probably drunk, made me admittedly somewhat nervous.

When we arrived at the Parc des Princes, the home of Paris Saint-Germain (PSG), there were Germans chanting and singing everywhere. Some of them were quite rowdy, but I never feared for my safety. There were small groups of Americans scattered about. As we made our way toward the stadium, a large group of police in riot gear was progressing toward where most of the non-ticket holding crowd seemed to be gathering.

We passed through the first ring of security around the stadium after showing our tickets. There was a fence with guards around the entire stadium to make crowd movement more efficient. At this point, we were able to move to our gate quite easily and quickly. Unfortunately, it was on the other side so we had to walk all the way around.

We approached the gate, had our bags searched, and moved on to our seats. They were to the right of the goal and about 2/3 of the way up, underneath a concrete overhang which sheltered us nicely from the wind and rain.

We were seated about an hour and a half before the starting time. Sam's Army was there and they were leading the cheers with drums and whistles. Seated next to me was a man we had met the day we checked in to the hotel. He was from New York and had brought his son to see the WC. I can't remember his name.

The US ended up losing the match 2-0. After it ended the team approached the end that most of the US fans were at and waved. There were other Americans spread throughout, but we were in the section that had been allotted to the US Soccer Federation for distribution to American fans.

We left the stadium with the man from New York, thinking that we may be able to catch a cab and split the cost. After seeing the situation outside, we realized this would not be happening. There were no cabs in sight and already there were hoards of people heading for the metro station.

We followed the crowd and almost made it on to the first train out. The were workers directing people and they closed off the train just as we made it to the doors. This was good, because maybe we would get seats on the next one. Just seconds later, however, we were directed to a second train a few steps away in some sort of overflow tunnel. We got on and headed for the Miromesnil stop about 13 stops away, where we would switch trains to head for the Place de Clichy stop, which was a couple of blocks from our hotel.

I don't know what time we got back, but I wanted to watch a bit of the game rerun on EuroSport, a cable TV station in English. I was too tired though, so this did not last long.

16 June, 1998

We got up and had the complimentary croissant and bread breakfast. Then we went to Gare St. Lazare to reserve places on the high speed TGV trains to and from Nantes and Lyon for the next two matches. We got a trip to Lyon at 7:30 but the 0:30 return trains the next day were all booked. We ended up with 5:30 reservations on the day after the 21:30 (9:30pm) match, which left us to contemplate what we would do for four hours after the game let out. For the Nantes match on 6/25, we did get booked on the 0:30 return train.

The ticket rep I spoke with at St. Lazare did not speak much English, so we made due with writing on a piece of paper. Once again I was left with the impression that the French are much more willing to help than I had been led to believe they would be.

We went back to the hotel and Guy immediately started napping. I suggested to him that we walk down the Champs-Elysee to the Arc de Triomphe and he said, "OK," but kept his eyes closed. After watching a bit of the US-Germany rerun on EuroSport, I started getting ready. I asked him if he was coming but he did not answer.

I left the hotel and headed the direction I though the Champs-Elysee was in. It was the wrong way, though, but I didn't discover this until I had turned on a nice avenue that I thought was the Champs-Elysee and found that it ended with a park. It was nice to see the city, though, and I developed an appreciation for Paris.

The park was named Parc Monceau. I don't know what its significance was but I snapped a picture of the sign in French hoping to translate what appeared to be a description. The park was quiet and had some nice paths and gardens. There was a nice Roman-style column structure surrounding half of a pool with some large gold carp in it. I walked for a while and then returned to the hotel.

On my way back, I stopped at a supermarket to get some food and much needed water. I was surprised to see that a bottle of wine cost about Fr20 (US$3.30) on average, an incredibly low price. I bought two wheels of brie cheese for less than Fr12 ($2) each and a Fr6 ($1) Belgian beer in a neat ceramic bottle. To round it all out, I got some bread, potato chips, water, and a bottle of carbonated citrus beverage called Stand Up - a cheaper clone of the popular drink Orangina I had seen in restaurants and back home. The total bill was about Fr60 and I used my credit card to pay. Since I didn't really have to speak to anyone, it was an easy experience.

When I got back to the hotel, Guy looked at my food and decided he would give it a try. He came back with Haagen Dasz, guacamole, apple juice, crackers, pickled herring, and salmon spread (possibly a pate). He bought one of my cheeses after I realized I didn't have a refrigerator for the leftovers.

I set out for Champs-Elysee again, but again went the wrong way. I decided to go back to the hotel, but found that Guy was sleeping and I couldn't wake him by knocking. I decided to try for Champs-Elysee again and hopped on the Metro. I got off at a stop about halfway down the Champs-Elysee and walked toward the Arc de Triomphe. There were many shops and restaurants along the way and tourists everywhere. The area was beautiful, with trees and fountains everywhere. There was a lot of noise from all of the busses and cars on the avenue.

It was getting close to sundown, and I wanted to make it to the Arc for the sunset. I got to Place Charles de Gaulle Etoile, the star-shaped intersection that surrounded the Arc and served as a roundabout for ten streets. It took me several minutes to figure out how to get to the Arc. There were many people walking around over there and I saw a few people cross through the busy traffic. This seemed dangerous as there were no breaks in the traffic as it moved around.

Finally, I noticed people disappearing into the ground through what appeared to be a stairway. I looked around and found that there was another one on the near side that I had mistaken for a Metro entrance. After walking through, I bought a ticket to climb the 248 stairs to the top. When I got there, the sun was just beginning to set. I took some nice photos of La Defense with the sun setting behind it and the Eiffel Tower with the purple reflection of the sunset on it. The view was incredible from the top, about 103m up.

I returned to the hotel and knocked on the door to our room. There was no response. I checked with the main desk and Guy had not left the key there. I went back up to our 3rd floor room and knocked harder. Finally, I heard some movement inside and Guy opened the door. It was now about 22:00 and Guy had been sleeping the whole time.

I turned on the TV to see what the outcome of the second Brazil match was. They had beaten Morocco easily to become the first team of France 98 to clinch a second round berth. I dozed off to sleep but Guy stayed up much later watching TV and calling home to his girlfriend.

17 June, 1998

We got up early to shower and eat breakfast before meeting the tour group at the Hilton. Guy tried to blame his tiredness on a pear that he had eaten.

We arrived at the Hilton at the arranged time of 9:30. The guide was more than 30 minutes late, however, due to the bus driver taking a wrong turn.

We got on the bus and proceeded to drive by all of the major Paris sites. It was interesting because without the tour guide, we would have been left to reading signs in French. Her name was Summer and she seemed to have a slight British accent. She was a certified translator and she had some sort of a law degree.

We stopped at the Louvre and a few other places to take pictures. Then we went to Notre-Dame to take a quick look inside. What a beautiful place. I love the gothic architecture. Guy and I decided that a return trip was certain.

After Notre-Dame, Summer took us to a French restaurant whose name I did not get. We were given the fixed price menu to choose our hors d'eouvre, main course, desert, and wine from. I ordered vegetable soup, "preserved" chicken with fries, a red berry mousse, and red wine. The preserved chicken, as Summer described it, was stored in its own fat for some amount of time and then cooked. The fat then falls off and leaves the chicken moist.

They started us off with a glass of white wine with black currant liqueur, which was very tasty. The rest of the meal was very well done, but I guess that is the French way. During the meal, we conversed with a couple from Chapel Hill, NC. I believe they were professors at UNC. They had been to France before they were married, about 30 years ago from what I understand.

We got back on the bus to go to the river to board a boat tour. On the way, we passed the site where Princess Diana's car had crashed. There was a replica of the Statue of Liberty's torch that had been placed on the bridge above by American expatriates in the 80's, but it had been adopted by mourners as a tribute to the Princess. There were flowers all around it.

The boat tour went just past the Ile de la Cite, the island that Notre-Dame is on, and then turned around. It was a very relaxing trip in the sun with a cool breeze.

We got on the bus and headed for the Eiffel Tower. We were to go only to the second level since the lines were always long to go to the top. There were three levels in total. The view was nice, if not a bit hazy from the humidity and polution. To me the most impressive aspect of the Tower was the construction. 70 tons of steel reaching about 150 feet high. It was incredible in size, and I was impressed that it was over 100 years old.

After a day of touring, we were left with a lot of sightseeing ideas and a bit of fatigue. The bus took us back to the Hilton and we went back to the hotel.

We decided to go back to the Arc de Triomphe. One ticket to the top cost Fr35. It was my second time there, though, so there is not much left to say about it.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at a France 98 merchandise shop on the Champs-Elysee. I bought a France 98 silver Fr10 coin for Fr224, a sticker, a shirt, and a Footix shot glass.

Closer to the hotel, on Rue D'Amsterdam, we found a sandwich shop that was open. It was about 23:00. I got a Greek pita sandwich with frite (fries) for Fr23.

18 June, 1998

We got up early again to see the Louvre. First, however, we went to the Paris Office of Tourism on the Champs-Elysee to get some museum passes and change some traveler's checks. We got some post cards also and I found a nice poster map of all of the wine regions in France.

At the Louvre, we were able to skip the long lines because we had the museum passes. The line was probably about an hour or so long, at least. We saw the medieval section first. This was an archaeological excavation of the original Louvre, a castle-like structure that originally served as a residence for a past ruler.

Later, we moved on to the Egyptian and Greek and Roman sections. There were many sculptures and relics that had been taken by Napoleon, which is a good thing because they may have been otherwise lost. There was a large Sphinx statue and many Egyptian tools and jewels.

After about 3 hours in the Louvre, we were exhausted. We decided to come back another time to see some of the art and specifically the Mona Lisa. We went back to the hotel, ate a snack, and napped.

In the evening, I went alone to a public area outside the Hotel de Ville (city hall) to watch the France-Saudi Arabia match on the large screen TV outside on the plaza. There were French teenagers singing and chanting everywhere. It was a great atmosphere for a while, with constant eruptions of "Allez les Bleus" (go Blues) from the French fans. After halftime, I got sick of the crowd and all of the cigarette smoke so I left for the hotel. France ended up winning the match 4-0 to become the second team to clinch a second round berth.

19 June, 1998

The plan today is to go to the Musee de la Marine (Marine and Naval Museum) and then possibly the Science and Technology museum or another site. Our museum passes are good for three days, which works well with our plans to leave for Lyon on Sunday, 6/21. We figured that we could see them all in three days and then see everything that wasn't covered by the pass upon returning from Lyon.

The naval museum had models of French sea vessels and a few from other parts of the world to describe the history of ships. In the 17- and 1800's, when a new ship was built, a model of it was also constructed and sent to the king. The museum, therefore, had perfect replicas of many of the wooden sailing ships. Even though everything was in French, the museum was very interesting. I got some nice pictures in there.

After two or three hours in the museum we were hungry. But first we found a La Poste postal stand and bought some Coupe de Monde stamps to send our postcards with. A sheet of 10 cost Fr30, so about $0.50 per stamp. The man at the booth told us to use two per card to get them to the US. I did so and dropped them in one of the yellow mail receptacles.

I asked Guy if he thought going back to Notre-Dame Cathedral was a good idea and he agreed. We found a restaurant called Le Depart near the cathedral with English captions on the menu, so we went in for lunch. I ordered a tomato and mozzarella salad, lasagna, a 27cl Sauvignon, and for desert a piece of chocolate cake with vanilla creme. The cake was very thick, like a piece of soft chocolate, but it was delicious. It was unquestionably the best cake I had ever had, not to overshadow the excellent chocolate torte from D'Amico & Sons in Minneapolis.

We went back to the Cathedral and this time used our museum passes to get in to the tower. It was some 200 steps to the top. There was a great view of the steeple, the Grand Bell, and some of the gargoyles. Notre-Dame is one of my favorite places in Paris.

Today we were so exhausted we went back to the hotel at about 17:00 to rest. We watched part of the Nigeria-Bulgaria match and napped. When I woke up, it was 20:00 and the rerun of the same match was on with about 15 minutes to go. Nigeria won 1-0 and became the third team to clinch a second round berth. I then watched the Spain-Paraguay match, where they drew 0-0. Spain will be hard pressed to make it to the second round now and they were a favorite.

I tried to go to sleep but Guy was watching the TV again. The flickering of light in the dark room made it hard to sleep. He finally turned it off and later, when he thought I was sleeping, tried to quietly sneak out of the room to get a sandwich or find an internet cafe, I am not sure.

20 June, 1998

I got up at 8:00, took a shower, and had breakfast. The croissants with cheese they provide are starting to get boring to me, but I brought some Choco-croc (the Nutella clone product) to eat with them.

In the elevator up to the third floor, I asked Guy what he wanted to do today. He said he would probably take a nap and then go to a laundromat and do some laundry. I told him he should probably do the laundry first so that the maids could do our room. When we got to the room, though, he climbed into his bed and started sleeping.

I left the key at the front desk and headed for the Metro station Place de Clichy. I decided to go back to Parc Monceau and catch up on my journal entries. For about one or two hours I sat on a bench in the park and typed.

I took the Metro back as if I were a Parisian; I was so comfortable doing it. Today, however, perhaps the most interesting experience of my trip was about to happen.

As I was exiting from the Place de Clichy station, the person in front of me pushed open and then let go of the double hinged door and it swung back and hit me it the forehead. The door was apparently broken because they would usually not swing back out like that. At first I was concerned that it may have broken my glasses because the pain wasn't too extreme. I took a couple of steps back and noticed something on the left lens, though, so I removed them. Blood had started coming out and a drop landed on my sleeve. My glasses were fine, there was just a drop of blood on the lens. I had to use my hand to apply pressure to the cut because the bleeding was getting worse.

I walked out onto the street with my hand applied to my forehead and stood there for a few minutes. Some people looked at me but most of them just kept moving. Thankfully the bleeding stopped, so I made my way back to the hotel a few blocks away.

I had to stop at the desk to get the key because Guy had left and he gave the key to the clerk. There were some people who could not speak French or English very well in front of me and I had to wait while they tried to check in. After a minute or so they noticed me and let me through. The clerk told me that there was a medical center down the road.

I went up to the room and cleaned the cut. There was caked blood all over it. After I cleaned it all off, I saw that the cut was about an inch long and was completely through the skin. Up until then I was not worried because I thought I could clean it, put a bandage on it, and I would be fine. But now I was faced with the decision to go to a medical center in a foreign country and deal with their medical system.

There really was no choice, it had to be done. I was surprised that I had lasted as long as I did because blood and serious cuts usually make me light-headed.

I gave the key back to the clerk and walked to the Medical Center of Europe (or something close to that name). I knew where it was because I had passed it many times on my way to the Saint Lazare metro station. The people inside did not know much English, but one of them who knew more than the others was able to help.

She told me it would cost 120F or so and that the doctor would give me papers with which to make a claim with my insurance company back home. She gave me a slip to present to another desk worker who would then take me money. I did so and paid 126F.

Immediately after paying, I was to go into the waiting room and wait for the nurse. As soon as I walked in she was there, and she motioned toward a room. The room was air conditioned and had all of the appointments of an American examination room. I lied down on the table and the nurse put gauze over my eyes to shield them from the bright work light above. She made conversation about where I was from and how long, and this made me feel more at ease.

The doctor came in and explained that he would be using a local anesthetic before starting the stitches. He gave me a shot and then, after a few minutes waiting for it to kick in, started stitching. Since I was sitting in a slightly inclined position, I began to get light-headed and sweaty. Luckily, it took only 5 or 10 minutes and it was all over. The doctor asked me if I had had a tetanus shot and I told him that it had been 15 years or so. He looked concerned but didn't say anything that I could understand.

The nurse gave me a glass of water and part of a sugar tablet to put under my tongue and told me to wait for the doctor in the waiting room. I waited a couple of minutes and he came out and gave me a prescription for a tetanus shot. I was to go to the pharmacy and buy it and then come back so he could administer it.

I was directed to "the front" where I would find a pharmacy. I looked around the front of the building and did not see one. Next door, there was a building with the word "pharmacie" followed by some other words on it, so I walked in. It appeared to be for personal care products. The worker behind the desk directed me again to "the front," so I nodded and walked out.

This time I saw, directly across the street from the medical center, a "pharmacie" with a blue neon cross on it; I had seen these crosses all around Paris and wondered what they were for. Now it was obvious, as I walked in and found something much more like what I would expect to be a pharmacy.

I handed the prescription to the woman behind the desk and she retrieved a box with a tetanus syringe in it. The cost was 18F.

I took it back to the medical center and waited in the waiting room for about 10 minutes. The doctor then took me into his office and explained that he had given me 3 stitches. He told me to keep the prescription sheet and another piece of paper he had given me with it so that I could file a claim with my insurance back home. Finally, he opened the shot and stuck me in the right arm and wished me a happy stay in Paris.

I went back to the hotel and shared my story with Guy, who had just gotten back. I didn't feel like doing anything else that day, so we both sat and watched football and napped for the rest of the day.

We got up early to catch the train to Lyon. We should have given ourselves more time, though, because we nearly missed it by only 3 minutes. It was a 2 hour trip, giving us a view of the French countryside we had missed while sleeping on the trip from Amsterdam.

We keep getting stuck in the seats opposing two others, where only a small table separates one from the travelers on the opposite side. This makes it impossible to stretch your legs and get comfortable because there is not enough room for someone as tall as I am.

Upon arrival at Lyon, we sat in the station for about an hour to decide what to do. Guy and I walked in to a "WC" (water closet, or restroom) and it was another one where you have to pay to use it. The woman attendant started yelling at us when we apparently did something wrong, but she spoke in French. When I told her I don't speak French, she ignored me and started asking "un ou deux," which I understood as "one or two" but I was still trying to figure out what was going on. She finally broke down and said, "one or two?" I was getting tired of her impatient yelling so I said, "deux." She charged me 4.60F and gave me two tokens. She then directed us to the rooms, but Guy did not have to go. He was far too impatient to say no, however, so after she yelled at him a bit he dropped the token in and entered.

After I walked out of the WC, I told Guy that she knew English perfectly well, but she was refusing to use it. She seemed to know what we were saying and she knew some words, but she was too stubborn to cooperate.

The experience left me with a negative notion of Lyon. Even though she was a single citizen, I no longer felt comfortable in that place.

I walked around a bit on my own to find a place to buy a drink. As I was passing a group of three men, one of them started singing a made-up song. "You're going home with Morocco," over and over he repeated this phrase. I believe the song was directed toward me and perhaps some of the other Americans in the area, but I kept walking and didn't even look at him. He sounded English.

Guy and I finally decided to get transit tickets and maybe do some shopping. The transit authority, TCL, had a special game day ticket, good from 12:00 to 0:00, for 10F. We got two of them and boarded a Metro train to the stadium.

Unlike the woman in the WC, the one at the TCL desk was very friendly and spoke English. We had also asked for help from two women at an information desk for tourists that the city had set up, and they were very helpful. This was making me feel better about the hospitality in Lyon. I feel bad about not knowing French, but if a French person knows English, I don't see why he or she cannot use it to communicate with me.

The city was mostly closed down, it being a Sunday. Lyon reminds me of a small town, but it has a population of 415,000. There were a few restaurants open, but no shops.

We passed a small bar and went in to have some beer. We sat and drank Kronenbourg and played Psionopoly (a Monopoly game on the Psion handheld computer on which I typed this journal) for an hour. The staff did not know English, but we made due with signals and pointing. During the course of our stay in the bar, several Iranians came and went. I exchanged glances with many of them, but no words. All of the controversy leading up to the game had left me unsure of what to expect. I wish I could think of them as normal tourists instead of people from a country that my government opposes. I need to remember that the people do not always support the policy of the government, both in the US and in Iran. This is a soccer match, not a political debate.

After leaving the bar, we walked into the perimeter area of the stadium.

The Iran-USA Match
We arrived outside the stadium 3 hours early. There were mostly Iranians walking around, so we sat down in a shaded grass area to wait until they started admitting people into the stadium.

I am sitting in the grass typing on my Psion surrounded by Iranians. A large group of 40-50 of them walked up and started claiming real estate around us. Guy is on my left napping. A woman has dropped her bag behind me and it is partially leaning on my back. A smell of food, like salami or something, is in the air. I looked at Guy and he looked at me; we both smiled. What an unusual situation.

I hear mostly the incomprehensible conversations in what is probably Farsi. There are bits of German here and there, so maybe they are German-Iranians. It is odd, there is a small boy in front of me with a Nike shirt on. I guess I expected them to be less like me.

It is about 18:25, so they should start letting people in in a few minutes. Iranian children are practicing some sort or cheerleading moves several feet in front of us. People are talking, eating, and introducing themselves to others. A child stopped to try to steal a peek at my little computer. A woman said something to her, probably that she should not be so nosy.

I feel uncomfortable, but not insecure. I don't know why.

An old man just sat down next to me. He is getting ready to smoke some sort of cigarettes. The name I cannot fully see. He is talking to the woman behind me in German, something about "die Tankstelle" (gas station).

They all got up and started walking toward the stadium to get in. A child left a "Capri-Sonne" juice bag behind us. It has languages on the back of it from English to Greek to Korean. The man left his cigarette box behind. The brand is Lucky Strike and it has a no-win game of tic-tac-toe on it.

Guy commented that he was not sure how safe that experience was. He probably woke up from his nap to see himself surrounded by Iranian fans.

We will wait until the lines to get in have gone down before we go in.

Inside the stadium
Before we could go inside, we had to have our bags searched by the French police. They were more thorough this time than at any of the previous matches or at any of the museums. They told me that I could not take my plastic bottle of water in, so I had to discard it. I got through with my camera and a few other small items, but Guy was not so lucky. They made him leave his entire bag, less a bag of crackers that he could take in, in a trailer. He got a numbered card in return so that he could retrieve it. Inside his bag he had a portable CD player and other small items.

Once we were seated, it was a matter of waiting a couple of hours for the game to begin. There were Iranians seated in groups all around, whereas the US fans were mostly on one end in a big group. There were small pockets throughout, with their American flags breaking the seas of green and white, the Iranian colors.

Occasionally, some Iranian fans would come into the US area and take pictures of each other surrounded by Americans. Some actually asked if they could get pictures of themselves next to willing American fans.

One American, with his face painted like the US flag and a flag wrapped around his shoulders like a cape, was invited into one of the Iranian groups. He was over there for at least 30 minutes posing with Iranian fans for pictures. The media present on the field to cover the match ate this up; they were snapping photos themselves.

I think the atmosphere was incredible. It exceeded my expectations a great deal.

After the match
We left the match early to beat the crowds. I was disgusted with the performance of the US team. We should have won, but our strikers lacked the confidence to take shots. I hope they have learned from this World Cup, because I am sick of having a losing team. I want the US team to advance past the first round in 2002.

There was a small but constant stream of people leaving the stadium. There were several busses outside ready to take people to the train station and a French man was directing people to the appropriate bus. We got on the one to Part Deux, the station we arrived to. It was full of sweaty, stinky people, most of them British or French but a few Americans were on board as well.

The bus departed but outside of the controlled area it had to stop because there were Iranians celebrating outside in the street. The game had ended and the Americans had scored a goal after we had left. As the bus passed through the crowd, people were beating on it and shouting, "Iran! Iran!"

I was getting dehydrated and wanted to get back to the station to use my last few Francs to get a bottle of soda. The bus took us to the Metro station where we could then catch a train back to Part Deux.

Guy and I had found a machine that had sodas for 6F, whereas most places in Paris and the Lyon station had them for 10-15F. It was just outside the metro station, so we pooled our money and had enough to share 3 bottles between us.

We got on the Metro and sat down facing two other Americans. They had decided just hours before the match to buy tickets on the street in Paris. When I told them that we had not been able to get a train back to Paris until 5:30, they told me that they had purchased tickets for a return at 0:36. This was good news. Maybe another train had been added.

At Part Deux, we found a ticket booth and asked if we could change our reservations to 0:36. The man politely said yes and did so. My impression upon leaving Lyon was better than it was in coming.

22 June, 1998

23 June, 1998

24 June, 1998

I got up and did the usual routine of taking a shower and having breakfast. Guy was still lying in bed when I got back from breakfast, but he was clearly awake. Yet again, it looked as if he would not be living up to the plans he had made the night before. Today he said he was going to do some shopping and try to see what the import restrictions coming back to the US are with me.

I left without him again to do my laundry. There is a laundromat down the street where Guy had gone a few nights earlier. He had purchased some detergent so he let me use some. The cost to wash was 22F and the drier was 5F for 10 minutes. I spent 15F total to dry my clothes.

When I came back to the hotel, Guy was still lying in bed. It was about 10-10:30 and he was watching a documentary in Spanish on TV.

I left alone to do some shopping. I went back to the France 98 store on Champs-Elysee and bought a T-shirt for Chuck. Around noon or so I was getting hungry, so I stopped at a fast food place called Quick. Quick is just like McDonalds, with American style fast food and everything, but it is a bit more common. It tastes just as crappy too.

I am really starting to miss home. I can't wait to get back and get into my new house. The long days of walking are wearing me out, and I need some time to rest. It will be nice to be back home with a cold drink and my TV to watch the rest of the World Cup. Only three more days...

With the US-Yugoslavia match tomorrow, I think I will finish my shopping and get some beer and sit in the hotel room to watch some of the other matches.

25 June, 1998

Nantes
We got on the train to Nantes at 9:30 for departure at 9:50, and we arrived in Nantes at about 12:00. The station had a more small-town feel to it than the one in Lyon did. Unlike Lyon, however, I did not see the prominent tourist information desk just outside the arrival area. We did, however, find a booth set up outside of the station on the sidewalk. There, we were able to buy a 24-hour transit pass and get some maps.

We decided to look around the town center nearby. Along the way there was a castle, which name I cannot remember. It was closed, so we kept walking to the business area.

Nantes, like other parts of France, had a lot of restaurants and small shops. The tourist oriented shops, however, seemed to be less similar to each other and had better quality goods than we had seen in most parts of Paris. If I had more spending room in my budget, I could have found a lot to buy.

We found a shaded park and sat down to have a short lunch picnic. Guy had picked up two ham and cheese croissants and I had packed a can of peas, an apple, and some bread and choco-spread.

From the light moss on the sides of some of the trees, I guessed that Nantes was probably more wet than Lyon. I couldn't help but to compare the two cities, for reasons that are probably obvious. Nantes seemed smaller, older, and more hospitable. Lyon, on the other hand, was mostly closed because we were there on a Sunday. That made it hard to get a feel for the city.

We walked back to the chateau and found that it had opened. It had a moat around it, and we traversed a bridge to the inside. There wasn't much to do in there but climb the steps to the top of the walls and look out over the moat. It was nice, though, because I had never been in a castle.

At about 16:30, we went to a public area nearby the chateau called the copacabana. It had been set up with a large screen for public viewing of the games. There was a big sand box set up for beach games such as soccer and some sort of ball tossing game. Apparently, the city of Nantes had created the copacabana with the intent of making the Brazilian fans feel at home. I believe Brazil opened against Scotland in Nantes on 15 June.

While watching the Netherlands-Mexico match on the TV, a French man named Benoit started talking to me. We talked about the US team and the French team. He was very interested in the sports scene in the US. He asked about the popularity of soccer as opposed to football, baseball, and basketball.

Mexico managed to come back to draw with Holland 2-2. After the match we went back to the shopping district and looked around a bit. I was getting hungry again, so Guy and I agreed to look for a restaurant. We walked into a place and it was closing. Another place just didn't seem to have what we were looking for. We finally decided to go to a sandwicherie and have a sandwich and chocolate mousse-like dessert (French silk?).

The Yugoslavia-USA Match
Later, we got on the tram and headed for the stadium. The crowds were already building up and it was 20:00, so we went in. The police allowed us to take everything we had into the stadium except for the caps to our water bottles. They had rejected the caps at the other matches also, and I cannot figure out why.

Inside the Stadium
Our seats were to the far right of the southern goal. There was a railing to our right that obstructed our view of the field, so our seats were in a bad place.

The game itself was great. I really enjoyed it because the US team seemed to have gotten over its deficiencies of the first two matches. Except for its inability to put the ball in the goal, that is. Nonetheless, I found it very entertaining. We lost 1-0 due to a lucky break for Yugoslavia, but I think we won for our effort.

After the Match
After the match we got on the crowded tram and headed back to the train station. At 0:35, our TGV train departed for Paris. We would have to walk back to the hotel from Gare Montparnasse because the Metro was closed and we did not have enough cash for a cab.

The walk took about two hours and our legs were starting to feel weak. It was not as bad as the last time, on Monday, though. Montparnasse was closer to our hotel than Gare Lyon was. We walked clear across the city of Paris after midnight and it felt completely safe. In a nightclub district we saw some sort of drunk or junkie stagger out of a club and sit on the curb, but he didn't pay much attention to us.

26 June, 1998

Back to Amsterdam
This was the day we had to leave for Amsterdam. Our train departed at 10:55 from Gare Nord, the same place we had arrived to, and we were in Amsterdam CS at about 15:10. The ride was miserable because it seemed long, I was tired, and I couldn't get to sleep in those upright seats. Luckily, we didn't get the ones that are opposed to two others, but the legroom was still too small.

We put our heavy luggage in a locker for storage over night, minus the basics we needed for one night in a hotel. Then, we made our way to the tourist office and stood in line for over two hours to get a hotel room.

We ended up in a double occupancy room with a bathroom at the Hotel 83 in the red light district. It was a fine room except for the cigarette stink. Upon check-in we were told that they only accept cash. I had 75 gilders and Guy had none. They let us in and told us to get some cash and pay before we leave.

We left our bags in the room and went to get dinner and find a way to get cash. We had both used all of our traveler's checks and if it weren't for the hotel, this would have worked perfectly. We found a cash machine almost right away and Guy tried using his cash card. I did not have mine with me, so he would have to get about 150 gilders to pay for the room and have some left for minor expenses. We were surprised that it worked at all.

We walked down the street and found a chocolate shop. I went in and spent Nlg17 on bars and truffles. It was a nice little shop, and I was tempted to spend a lot more on the good-looking candy they had on display.

Later, we went to an Italian pizza restaurant and had an artichoke pizza and Heineken. I think we are both probably looking forward to getting home and away from each other.

We went back to the hotel at 21:00 and I, being tired, went to bed. I knew that Guy would never go to bed so early and that he would go out looking for an internet cafe. Sure enough, when we got up in the morning, that is where he had been.

27 June, 1998

Breakfast was between 9:00 and 11:00. I got up and took a shower and we went down and ate. The bread and cheese was a welcome change from the croissants at the Jardin de Paris D'Amsterdam.