Not a Tour

Yay! Today was the day, scheduled a week ago, when I would after all these visits take a tour of the magnificent Hotel de Ville (I'd gone in to the visitor center/gift shop part of the Hotel, been told there was no tour space available until "vendredi prochain," said that was fine, and been given a little slip of paper to prove I'd gone through official channels). So I was up, dressed, breakfasted, and out the door--sharply out the door, when I couldn't decide whether the "10 mn avant l'heure" on the paper meant 10 minutes before the appointed time of 10:30, or actually 10 minutes before L'HEURE, 10:00. The security people at the entrance around back, where I've seen the lines waiting to enter in the past, were incredulous when I told them what time I was supposed to be there...sooooo, I took a stroll around the vast building, reading the birth and death dates for various statues on its facade and calculating how long they'd lived (a few into their 60s; many only into their 30s; one to 28). I stopped at the newstand on the corner and bought the new Charlie Hebdo. I strolled back toward the entrance...still no one but security and the intermittent stream of employees scanning in...I paged through it looking at cartoons. Then--aha!--a large group appeared, walking up from the direction of the river. They were all--Chinese. A few French people milled about, then, to greet them. The main security guy came to me and doublechecked that I had been told this time. 

So, after many raised eyebrows and sidelong glances--from the French--making it clear I Was. Not. Supposed. To. Be. There, in we all trooped, me trying to be as unobtrusive as possible: not an easy feat when you're clearly not on the welcoming committee, and definitely not a part of a large Chinese manufacturing delegation. I lasted through three rooms. The building is stunning; I'll go back; there were clearly going to be just too many speeches not on the regular tour, on top of the awkwardness. When everyone sat down in a large hall (where at the same time, workmen were noisily disassembling rows of seating) for a--Power Point presentation, I'd guess: at least there was a large screen in front, I slipped out and retraced my steps back downstairs and out the way I'd come. I walked straight to the other end of the building...again...to the visitor center...again...and scheduled a spot for a tour next Tuesday morning. Interestingly, this time the man wrote down (or I did, and he copied them) my name and telephone number, which gives me hope this time will proceed more--normally.