RTW Leg 147

RTW Leg 147a
Early Morning
EBGB-LFPB 163 nm.
Brussels-Paris. Northern France.
ETE: 1.2 Hours.
Terminal Departure and Terminal Arrival

NARRATIVE

We leave Brussels early in the morning--so that we can have plenty of daylight for our stay in Paris. On the way south we pass the western outskirts of Brussels--and you can make out the Atomium in the distance (hundreds of people are now riding escalators through the tubes). Further south, just east of Chièvres, lies Mons in Walloon Belgium near the border. A frontier city, and well-fortified with walls, Mons has been the target of invading armies over the centuries. Today it is a city of schools and universities encompassing a mixture of decaying industry and youthful exuberance. Nearby lie the headquarters of NATO's European command, SHAPE. Here, the American author [MM] spent one summer (in 1968) with Belgian friends--learning to push a small white ball through the forests. (If you care for a round of golf, use RTWleg147aa which provides a VFR circuit over Mons and then a landing at either Chièvres or the private airfield Saint-Ghislain. You will need Freddy Bridoux's scenery if you want to land at Saint-Ghislain. See below.)

Then over Cambrai and Picardy before circling to enter the Paris airspace from the west.

Our destination is the classic airport Le Bourget. Built in 1915, this was the landing site of Charles Lindbergh after his transatlantic crossing. Arriving at night, and confused by the lights, Lindbergh was stunned by the size of the crowd as they carried him off through the darkness. (He was also roughed up a bit, what with all the high spirits of the moment.)

The field was the main airport for Paris during aviation's formative years. International commercial aviation originated here with the famous "Paris-London" route in 1919. Air France made the field its home in 1933. The current airport was built in 1936 and continued as the primary airport until a portion of the passenger traffic was transferred to Orly in 1951. The current airport continues to serve tourist and business aviation.

The Space and Air Museum was sited here when the remainder of the passenger traffic moved to Roissy-Charles de Gaulle in 1977. The galleries feature balloons of the eighteenth century, gliders of the nineteenth century, and primitive aircraft of the early twentieth. Included are a 1907 Voisin-Farmer from the world's first aircraft factory, a 1908 Wright Flyer (built in Le Mans), a Blériot in which Louis Blériot which first crossed the English Channel in 1909 and another in which Roland Garros set an altitude record of 4960m in 1912 . And it displays fighters of the first and second world wars and other prototype aircraft, including the first Concorde mockup. Outside stands a model of the ARIANE V.

The airfield grounds also contain a large industrial park based on aeronautical enterprise. More notably, every two years (next in June 2003) Le Bourget hosts the world's most prestigious air show--the Salon International Aéronautique du Bourget. While the arrival of the Buzz will probably not draw the same crowds as the air show, nevertheless the officials at the Museum would like to have pictures of the Buzz pilots as they pass through to mark the event.

The approach into Le Bourget is tricky, requiring a close pass near the busy airspace of Charles de Gaulle. See the "Field Report" below.

RTW Leg 147b
Afternoon
LFPB-LFPN-LFPB 72 nm.
Paris Flyover
ETE: 1.5 Hours .
(VFR) Terminal Departure and Terminal Arrival

NARRATIVE

Paris is, of course, the capital of France and (by many accounts) the cultural capital of Europe. Ask the French for a candid assessment. In any case, the Round the World Buzz would be achingly incomplete without a stopover in "The City of Light." Paris is surely worth a day's time, and much more. Optionally, we may take a couple of hours to fly over the city and see the grand views from the air. We takeoff from Le Bourget to get an aerial view of the city, stop at Toussus-le-Noble for a coffee break with the local FS enthusiasts, and then circle back to Le Bourget. To appreciate the scenery, it might be best to arrange a hop in something that will fly low and slow. A Cessna 172 or a Piper Cub, or perhaps a super-light. And fly below the international airports' pattern. This is obviously a VFR flight--and you should feel free to modify your trip to suit your tastes and your aircraft's speed. Here are some of the famous sights. (From the Fodors and the Lonely Planet Paris guides.)

Our first sight is the famous, but almost hidden (by MS), SACRÉ-COEUR. (Waypoint SACRE) Perched atop Montmartre, the white domes of the basilica loom over the Paris skyline. The French government decided to erect Sacré-Coeur in 1873, as a national guilt offering in expiation for blood shed during the Franco-Prussian War in 1870-71. Stylistically, the Sacré-Coeur borrows elements from Romanesque and Byzantine models. Built on a grand scale, the church is strangely disjointed and unsettling. The gloomy, cavernous interior is worth visiting for its golden mosaics; climb to the top of the dome for the view of Paris. (FS2002 neglects to depict Montmartre's commanding height.)

MONTMARTRE. The decades before World War I saw the slopes of Montmartre alive with the sound of Belle Epoque music. Whirling windmills and swirling petticoats set the tone, no more so than at the Moulin Rouge cabaret, whose dancers doing the Can-Can were immortalized in posters and paintings by Toulouse-Lautrec. Femmes fatales? Lautrec drank and drugged himself to premature death. The Moulin Rouge continues on, with two cabaret shows a day some 110 years after its beginning.

Artists had moved into the district as early as the 1860s, when Monet and Manet pursued their interest in steam and rail at the Gare St-Lazare. New boulevards meant easier access to nearby Montmartre: Cheap and pretty, with an abundance of shady nightlife, it was an artist's dream. Van Gogh, Cézanne, Seurat, Signac, Degas, Vuillard, and Dufy all followed. Renoir painted his Moulin de la Galette; Picasso and Braque sighted Cubism in the Bateau Lavoir on Place Emile-Godeau. All gave tribute to the district's yeasty Bohemian lifestyle.

Montmartre lost its luster after World War I. Its visual biographer Maurice Utrillo remained, though his repetitive street-scenes were but a weak postscript to the powerful austerity of his youthful White Period.

Then, approaching the Seine, comes OPÉRA GARNIER. (Waypoint OPERA) Haunt of the "Phantom of the Opera" and the setting for Degas's famous ballet paintings, the Garnier is still the most opulent theater in the world. The stage is the largest in the world - more than 11,000 square yards, with room for up to 450 performers. Marc Chagall painted the ceiling in 1964.

SEINE. Paris owes both its development and much of its visual appeal to the Seine River, which weaves through its heart. Each bank of the Seine has its own personality; the Rive Droite (Right Bank), with its spacious boulevards and formal buildings, generally has a more sober and genteel feeling than the more carefree and bohemian Rive Gauche (Left Bank) to the south. The historical and geographical heart of the city is Notre-Dame Cathedral on the Ile de la Cité, the larger of the Seine's two islands (the other is the Ile St-Louis).

After crossing the river, we turn west at HÔTEL DES INVALIDES. (Waypoint INVAL) Les Invalides is a large ensemble of Baroque structures designed in the 1670s at the behest of Louis XIV to house wounded (invalid) soldiers. The most impressive dome in Paris, atop Jules Hardouin-Mansart's Église du Dôme, is part of the ensemble. Under the crypt of the Dôme, and the high point of a visit for most visitors, is Napoléon's Tomb--his remains are kept in a series of no fewer than six coffins, one inside the next. Although no more than a few old soldiers live at the Invalides today, the military link remains.

EIFFEL TOWER (Tour Eiffel). (EIFFL) Paris's most famous landmark was built by Gustave Eiffel for the World Exhibition of 1889, the centennial of the French Revolution. Such was Eiffel's engineering wizardry that even in the strongest winds his tower never sways more than 4½ inches.

This towering edifice stands 320m (1050ft) high and held the record as the world's tallest structure until 1930. Initially opposed by the city's artistic and literary elite--who were only affirming their right to disagree with everything--the tower was almost torn down in 1909. Salvation came when it proved an ideal platform for the antennas needed for the new science of radiotelegraphy. Just south-east of the tower is a grassy expanse that was once the site of the world's first balloon flights and is now used by teens as a skateboarding arena or by political activists exercising their rights to disagree with everything.

We continue westward, over the Bois de Boulogne, the lungs of the capital, with its very dense vegetation dominated in particular by oak trees, and also locust and cherry trees. This is a highly valued public park and a favorite of Parisians for walking, cycling, and horseback riding. It also houses the two Parisian horse courses (Auteuil and Longchamp) and the pretty Bagatelle gardens. (After dark, it attracts a different clientele.) On our left, we can see the red clay courts of the Stade Roland-Garros, the locus of the French Open tennis championships. We head west out to the next bend in the Seine in order to make a controlled turn back to the city. We want a long approach to our next sight--for sporting reasons...

LA DÉFENSE. (DEFNS) Here, almost out of the city limits, sits the financial district of Paris. At the beginning of the 20th century there were plans to build an avenue from the Triumphal Arch as a continuation of the Champs Elysee Avenue. The original plans were to build big skyscrapers surrounding this new avenue. The project was initially not approved, but during the 1960's new skyscrapers were built in this new 'arrondissement'. If you like modern architecture, this is the first place to visit in Paris. It is absolutely amazing. In this futuristic area stand several skyscrapers that house corporate offices. The construction of this new district was not easy--many locals criticized this glass and steel buildings.

The most impressive building in this area, and one of the most incredible buildings in the entire world, is the 'Grande Arche'. The building, designed by the Danish architect Otto van Spreckelsen, is 106 meters high --the entire Notre-Dame Cathedral would fit under this 20th century Triumphal Arch. As you can see in the photo, there is a lift to get to the top. From there there is another exceptional view of Paris.

As ever, flying under Le Grande Arche must be prohibited. And not condoned by the Buzz. Certainly not. Certainly not. ... Take care of the elevator shaft!


On the left, the modern Arc de Triomphe. The Etoile constitutes the world's most exciting traffic circle. On the right, an historic photograph from the Napoleonic Era shows the Arc de Triomphe de l'Etoile in the decades after the French Revolution, when peasants tore up the cobblestones of the Avenue des Champs-Élysées and planted wheat. (Their rallying cry was said to be, "Let us eat bread.")

ARC DE TRIOMPHE. (ETOIL) Inspired by Rome's Arch of Titus, this colossal, 164-ft triumphal arch was planned by Napoléon to celebrate his military successes. Although the emperor, who believed himself the direct heir to the Roman emperors, wanted the monument finished in time for an 1810 parade in honor of his new bride, Marie-Louise, it wasn't completed until 1836.

The Etoile (now Place Charles de Gaulle) is the center of 12 points constituting a star of traffic. Given the norms of French driving (a mixture of skill, timing, and aggression), navigating this intersection proves quite a challenge. (The author can give personal testimony--albeit from a quarter century ago--to the thrill and satisfaction of maneuvering an automobile intact from point A to point B.) See the Boston Globe story below.

CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES. The 2-km (1-mi) Champs-Élysées was laid out in the 1660s by landscape gardener André Le Nôtre as a park set back from the Tuileries. You won't see many signs of those pastoral origins today as you stroll past cafés, restaurants, car showrooms, movie theaters, and shopping arcades that occupy its upper half. In an attempt to reestablish this thoroughfare as one of the world's most beautiful avenues, the city planted extra trees, broadened sidewalks, added designer street-furniture, refurbished Art Nouveau newsstands, and built underground parking to alleviate congestion.

A popular promenade for the ostentatious aristos of old, the Avenue des Champs-Élysées has long symbolized the style and joie de vivre of Paris. Despite commercialization, the long wide avenue is still an ideal place for evening walks and relishing the food at overpriced restaurants.

PLACE DE LA CONCORDE. (CNCRD) This majestic square at the foot of the Champs-Élysées is one of the most beautiful in the world. Originally consecrated to the glory of Louis XV, it was laid out in the 1770s, but there was nothing concordant about its early years, for it was here that Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette were guillotined, along with more than 2,000 others between 1793 and 1795.

LOUVRE. (LOUVR) This is the world's greatest art museum, and certainly one of the largest. The extraordinary collections are divided into Asian antiquities, Egyptian antiquities, Greek and Roman antiquities, sculpture, objets d'art, paintings, and prints and drawings. The quality and the sheer variety are overwhelming. The number one attraction is Leonardo da Vinci's enigmatic Mona Lisa (La Joconde to the French). A highlight of the ancient Greek collection is the legendary Venus de Milo, from the 2nd century BC. (Think back on the RTW leg through the Aegean islands.)

This enormous building, constructed around 1200 as a fortress and rebuilt in the mid-16th century for use as a royal palace, began its career as a public museum in 1793. As part of Mitterand's grands projets in the 1980s, the Louvre was revamped with the addition of a 21m (67ft) glass pyramid entrance. Initially deemed a failure, the new design has since won over those who regard consistency as inexcusably boring.

CENTRE POMPIDOU. (POMP) The futuristic, funnel-top Pompidou Center was built in the mid-1970s and named in honor of former French president Georges Pompidou. More than 8 million visitors a year - five times more than intended - come to the Pompidou to enjoy musical performances and to see visual arts exhibitions at the Musée National d'Art Moderne (Modern Art Museum), which covers 20th-century art from Fauvism and Cubism to postwar abstraction and video constructions. Other highlights include the rooftop restaurant and the glass-tubed elevator that snakes up the side of the building.

NOTRE-DAME. (NDAME) Looming above the place du Parvis on the Ile de la Cité is the Cathédrale Notre-Dame, the most enduring symbol of Paris. Begun in 1163 and completed in 1345, Notre-Dame may not be France's oldest or largest cathedral, but in terms of beauty and architectural harmony, it has few peers. Seen from the front, the cathedral gives an impression of strength and majestic serenity; seen from the Pont de l'Archevêché it has the proud grace of a seagoing vessel, the cross on its steeple borne like the flag on a tall mast.

We cross the Seine to the Left Bank, with its more artistic and academic lifestyle.

On our right, first, is the domed PANTHÉON which, unlike most monuments, celebrates the creative rather than the military. Buried here are Voltaire, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Victor Hugo, Èmile Zola, and Marie Curie. In many ways, the Pantheon marks the energetic intellect that, for centuries, made Paris the heart and soul of the civilized world.

Further west is the JARDIN DU LUXEMBOURG (Luxembourg Gardens). Paris's most famous Left Bank park has tennis courts, flower beds, tree-lined alleys, and a large pond (with toy boats for rent alongside). The Palais du Luxembourg (Luxembourg Palace), built by Queen Maria de' Medici at the beginning of the 17th century in answer to Florence's Pitti Palace, houses the French Senate.

And farther along, marked by the starkly protruding office tower--at one time the tallest in Paris--comes MONTPARNASSE. (MONPS) The Roaring Twenties saw the Paris art scene shift south form Montmartre to another hill, Montparnasse. Picasso and Modigliani decamped to rue Campagne-Première, joined by Miro and Kandinsky; Braque worked nearby in rue du Douanier-Rousseau.

Belle Epoque cabarets lost out to Art Deco bars and brasseries, a whole string of them along boulevard du Montparnasse: the Coupole, Dôme, Select, Rotonde, and the Closerie des Lilas, most of them assiduously frequented by Ernest Hemingway. Gertrude Stein held court for her "Lost Generation" near the Luxembourg Garden, hosting Picasso and writers like Ezra Pound, Henry Miller, and Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Redevelopment, epitomized by the Tour Montparnasse, has long since exiled aesthetes.

Versailles. First rate digs, eh King Louie?

We leave the city proper for VERSAILLES. (Waypoint VERSA) Wanting to escape the rowdy rabble-ridden life of seventeenth century Paris, and to keep the nobility under his control, Louis XIV built this chateau in which he set up home and installed the government. Louis Le Vau was commissioned to renovate and extend an old hunting lodge, Le Notre created the gardens from swamp land, and Mansart masterminded the hydraulic display of the fountains. Beginning in 1664, hills were flattened, marshes drained, forests transplanted, and water from the Seine was channeled several miles to supply the magnificent water works. The construction of the château lasted virtually until Louis XlV's death in 1715. The town itself was built to house 20,000 noblemen, servants, and hangers-on who weren't quick enough to grab one of the 3,000 beds inside the château.

The Palace of Versailles was never meant to be a home; kings were not homely people. Second only to God, and the head of an immensely powerful state, Louis XIV was an institution rather than a private individual. His life was minutely regulated and rigidly encased in ceremony, attendance at which was an honor much sought after by courtiers. Versailles was the headquarters of every arm of the state.

After the death of Louis XlV, the château was abandoned for a few years. Then Louis XV moved in in 1722. It remained the residence of the royal family until the Revolution of 1789 when the people of Paris marched on Versailles and removed the royal couple (Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette). The furniture was sold and the pictures dispatched to the Louvre. Thereafter it fell into ruin and was nearly demolished by Louis-Philippe. And in 1871, during the Paris Commune, it became the seat of the nationalist government, and the French parliament continued to meet in Louis XV's opera building until 1879. The restoration only began between the two world wars.

For those wanting to take a late afternoon spin, here's a suggestion from Serge Michaux, the author of the FS2002 Toussous-le-Noble.

The friendly tower at Toussous-le-Noble.
The staff are great flight simulation enthusiasts.

And then back to Le Bourget for a taxi into the city and a splendid night on the town. This is, after all, Paris.

Flight planning and narrative by
Jozef Kusters and Mike MacKuen
RTW Pilots #037 and #039

Please note that these RTW Narratives are produced using materials from various sites, in print and on the web. They are intended for the private use of the RTW Buzz pilots and are not meant for public dissemination.

For the initial stages, consider two Belgian sceneries. Go to the Belgian FS site at http://www.fscb.be/be_scenery.html . Desirant Louis' Brussels City scenery (br2001.zip 5.7mb) is FS2000 in format and thus imperfect. However, he does provide recognizable highlights of Brussels, making the city less generic. And Freddy Bridoux's scenery of Hainaut province (belg7000.zip, 5.2mb) is FS2002 and provides good eye-candy for VFR flight south.

You should like Serge Michaux's Toussous-le-Noble (lfpn2002.zip 3mb and his misc.zip fix). The MS default Paris is rich with sights. Those with fast machines (or a penchant for detail) might consider a few extra files. Adding a nice touch are Philippe Coutellier's Paris Bridges (parisponts.zip 528kb). Especially attractive is Jose Castro's Hotel de Ville, Paris's striking city hall building just north of Notre Dame (parishdv.zip 928kb). Christophe Giraud's St. Cyr L'ecole (lfpz-v2.zip 3.3mb) is excellent, if a framerate hog. And, if you're flying about in the area, consider his Chavenay (lfpx-chavenay-villepreux.zip 1.7mb).

Many pilots flying to Paris will land at Pontoise or St Cyr L'Ecole. This is a shame, because closer to the centre of Paris is a real experience.

Le Bourget crosswind. Note Paris
in the background

Le Bourget was formerly the main international airport for Paris. The opening of Orly and Charles de Gaulle has ended this era, and the airport is now only available to private flights.

Arrival at Le Bourget from the North in VFR requires strict adherence to the VFR entry lane, accessed just to the south of Pontoise VOR. The arrival procedure calls for reasonable accuracy in both visual navigation, and altitude holding, but is far more straightforward than meets the eye. A transponder (mode A will do) is also mandatory

Choosing this route, the pilot and pax are rewarded with an unrivalled view of the centre of Paris, and even of the runways at CDG, just a mile or so to the North.

Once on the ground (make sure you identify your runway carefully, its confusing), it is a quick taxi to Parking "Foxtrot", where Transair provide the mandatory handling.

From Transair, a FF150 taxi fare will place you in the centre of Paris in little under 15 minutes. Alternatively, the RER (express Metro) has a stop dedicated to Le Bourget.

Landing and handling fees for a light single will probably amount to £100 for a long weekend. This figure can be improved on slightly if you file your own flightplan (by phone or minitel), assert that the person in the RH seat is crew, and brief yourself on weather. In the interests of balance, what you receive for this is impeccable friendly service, 24/24 operations, full IFR flight plan and slot negotiation facilities and luxurious surroundings.

Le Bourget is not cheap, and the arrival is not for the inexperienced, but is definitely worth the trouble - even if only once in an aviation career.

It is midnight at the neighborhood brasserie. Waiters swathed in starchy white glance discreetly at their watches as a family - mother, son, and wife - sip the last of a bottle of Chiroubles and scrape up the remains of their steak tartare on silverware dexterously poised with arched wrists. They are all wearing scarves: The mother's is a classic silk carré, tastefully folded at the throat; the wife's is Indian gauze and glitters; the son's is wool and hangs like a prayer shawl over his black turtleneck. Finished, they stir their coffee without looking. They smoke: the mother, Gitanes; the son, Marlboros; the wife rolls her own from a silver case. Alone, they act out their personal theater, uncontrived and unobserved, their Doisneauesque tableau reflected only in the etched-glass mirrors around them, enhanced by the sobriety of their dress and the pallor of their Gallic skin.

Whoever first said that "God found Paris too perfect, so he invented the Parisians," had it wrong. This extraordinary maquette of a city, with its landscape of mansards and chimneys, its low-slung bridges and vast boulevards, is nothing but a rough-sketched stage set that drinks its color from the lifeblood of those infamous Parisians whom everyone claims to hate, but whom everyone loves to emulate.

Mythologized for their arrogance, charm, and savoir faire - as well as their disdain for the foreigners they find genetically incapable of sharing these characteristics - the Parisians continue to mesmerize. For the generations of American and English voyeurs who have ventured curiously, enviously into countless mirrored brasseries, downed numerous bottles of cuvée maison, fumbled at nautical knots in newly bought scarves, even suffered squashed berets and unfiltered Gauloises, the Parisian remains inimitable - and infinitely fascinating. ...

Fasten your seat belts and unfasten the cap on the Valium bottle because we're going to be starstruck, enclosed, embroiled, trapped in l'Etoile. It sounds like a swell place, l'Etoile (the Star), but beware. It's a nice place to visit - in a tank or armored car - but you wouldn't want to drive there. The guidebook says: "For motorists it is the ultimate challenge." That's an understatement.

Just as Odysseus, the storied wanderer of ancient times, dreaded the ship-swallowing whirlpool called Charybdis, so I quaked at the thought of motoring on my own through l'Etoile, a gigantic traffic circle about the size of Rhode Island at the heart of Paris. A wheel of misfortune with a dozen spokes (points of a star in the Parisian view), it is constantly clogged with traffic pouring in from 12 important boulevards such as the renowned broad and elegant Champs Elysees, and Avenues Victor Hugo, de Wagram, and Foch. It isn't too difficult to get in, but how do you get out of this automotive hades? Maybe you don't. Maybe you're like Boston's lyrical Charlie who never returned from his endless journey on the MTA. Round and round and round on an eternal whirligig?

Centerpiece of the scene, the lofty, substantial monument Arc de Triomphe, offers a terrific view of the city from its flat roof, nearly 200 feet on high. It's a better place to be than circumnavigating in the traffic below. Beneath the arch is the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a gentleman I hope not to join as I slide into the pack. ...

Parisian friends Pascal Charpentier and Tracy Annis had told me it would be "an adventure." Pascal said, "Everybody should try it. It is a constant game of chicken, but, believe me, nobody wants to hurt you."

"But it doesn't know the rules," Constanza Borde, a Parisienne who once lived in Boston, had warned me. "No car or driver knows the rules because there aren't any. It's every man or woman for himself or herself in that torture chamber-in-the-round. Massachusetts rotaries are tiny, simple in comparison. After doing l'Etoile you can handle them blindfolded."

So . . . here goes. Like the hopeless but gallant Light Brigade, almost surrounded by cannons as it mounts its charge in the Crimean War, we realize there's no turning back. Patting my charger, the Peugot, on the dashboard, I cry "Attack!" and edge into the action, though somewhat cautiously. A semi-charge.

Zoom-zoom-zoom! Vehicles flash past in the counter-clockwise whorl. Cuckoo-clockwise is more like it. They come at us in waves and phalanxes, sometimes six abreast, veering, angling. I try to drive for daylight, go with the flow. The only daylight is above. Everybody else is the enemy, to be avoided somehow. This isn't bumper cars at a carnival. Keep moving and hope the old peripheral vision is working. Don Quixote, going head-to-head with windmills, comes to mind.

"Hey, bus at 3 o'clock!" warns Aurelio. I'm looking left, at 9 o'clock, but give way quickly. Two trucks cut us off. I slow, then give it the gas to slip through a narrow corridor, and try to get to the outside - to exit at the Champs Elysees.

Too late. Blocked by a Mercedes or two. Have to go around again. And again. Can't escape the vortex. I want to stop and get out, wave a flag of surrender and catch a taxi.

"You almost caught a taxi on our right fender," scolds Aurelio. "Work your way to the right. Follow that Citroen." The Citroen stops. I stop. A stampede of steel, glass, and chrome thunders by.

"Damn Baron Haussman," I mutter. It was Haussman who reshaped Paris in the 1850s, approving the plan for l'Etoile. Now we were following his star.

Herds, hordes, mobs of cars come and go and I try to fit in among them. With some dumb luck, I'm getting used to the fluctuation, penetration, hesitation. Gripping the wheel so hard it squeaks, I've nevertheless stopped thinking about my will.

Hemingway would have called this crawl and sprawl of machines "a moveable beast."

Can't get out yet, but after the sixth time around, feeling possessed by an eggbeater, I sense getting closer to escape.

"There . . . over there," Aurelio shouts and points. "There - the Champs. Hard right!"

An aperture. I gun it and we're liberated. A couple of blocks, then a right on Avenue George V. The hotel appears like an oasis, and it's no mirage. Nor is Rolando Davolio, the Prince de Galles's jocular, efficient doorman whose green greatcoat matches my facial color.

"I've just survived l'Etoile," I tell him. "Will you please take the keys and get rid of this car, which has barely survived me?"

Rolando nods. "I understand completely. You will be happier in our revolving door, or on the carousel by the Eiffel Tower."