Champs Elysées

i was showing some visitors around my neck of the woods, and several of them kept asking to go to the champs elysee… i honestly couldn’t figure out why. it’s nice to walk down, when you’re talking to a friend, but there’s no point in shopping there or even trying to party there… unless you’re tres chic, that is. and maybe rich, too. good luck.

I had the most incredible experience along the Champ Elysees. Even now, four years later, I’m reminded of it when I ride the NYC subways and encounter a variety of mentally ill homeless individuals.

It was my first trip to Paris and to say I was excited is like saying New York is just another city – it’s not! When I was a little girl, while other kids were dreaming of going to Disney world, I had dreams of the Eiffel Tower dancing in my head.

One of the things I wanted to do was stroll along the Champs Elysees. On that fateful spring day as I strolled savoring the Parisian atmosphere and pinching myself because it had not yet penetrated my brain that I was in Paris, I came upon a case of human degradation that surprised even me – a child raised in New York city.

A homeless lady was walking along in front of me searching for food and other items. I was paying attention to her but not intently. When she stopped, I focused my attention a little closer (in case she was crazy and made any sudden moves – hey, it’s the NY in me) and slowed my pace. When she squatted down and dropped trou, I came to a standstill, unbelieving of what was taking place in my dream city. I stood transfixed as the heavy stream of goldish-yellow escaped rapidly from her body. I remained in a daze but satisfied to believe that she would soon leave and that this blemish on my dreams could be erased from my memories. Oh, how naïve I was.

She remained in squatting position even after the stench had evaporated from the air. My eyes were now riveted to that one spot – unfortunately. Even now I wonder if I would have rather not had this experience. The homeless lady strained and pushed and defecated along the Champ Elysees. To add the final piece of my trauma – she reached behind her, scooped out a piece from the ground and proceeded to eat her feces. The only sentence that I was able to process for the next few hours was “This did not just happen in Paris, France.” Oh but it did!

but even better if you have the money to actually shop there!

basically the 5th avenue of paris - loads of high-class boutiques & designer shops. i loved it - you can’t go to paris & NOT visit the champs elysées. even if you don’t like shopping, it’s still a beautiful street nonetheless.

It’s worth it simply for Virgin Megastore, and to say you’ve been there. It’s just not all that nice for a stroll or anything, in my opinion.

great stores and also good restaurants with a good food for a fine price

http://www.theatrechampselysees.fr/

on 2 october 1925, la Revue Negre opened here, John Dos Passos painted the show’s stage set, Sidney Bechet played clarinet, and Josephine Baker danced “Yes, Sir, that’s my baby”.