Paris: Day 4, or "Do you like sports?"

Paris Travel Journal

Day 4

I awoke on the morning of 8 March to sunlight streaming through the window of our hotel room. Paris looked beautiful, and I certainly didn’t feel any older ;)

Looking out at my Paris :)

We kept our boissons cold on the windowsill, à la Bill Murray in The Razor's Edge.

After another breakfast of pains au chocolat and other deliciousness, we went back up to our room to make plans for our day. Part of me wanted to just sit all day and allow my ankles some time to mend, but, I mean, it’s Paris! I ignored the pain, donned my ankle brace, popped a few preventative Aleve, and we set out for the Canal Saint-Martin.

We strolled along the canal for an hour or two, enjoying the less-touristy neighborhood and the beautiful scenery. Even though Paris is at a higher latitude than Philadelphia, it seems spring comes a bit earlier there – trees and flowers were beginning to bloom, and everything was just lovely.

Matt said that when we live in Paris, he wants to have an apartment in a building like this, with a little balcony. I'm holding him to it ;)

After our stroll, we got on the Métro for a few stops toward Père-Lachaise Cemetary, where some very famous people are buried. But first, we stopped in at a Sandwiches Turcs shop (roughly the Parisian equivalent of a cheesesteak place in Philly – there’s at least one on every major street!). Warm sandwiches served on yummy bread with, of course, frites.

We walked towards the cimetière, which I’d first wanted to visit when I read that it was where Jim Morrison was buried – not that I’m a big fan of The Doors, but visiting his famously defaced grave, as I told Matt, is a “thing” (my description of something that people just need to do or have for reasons that I can’t quite comprehend). Then when I’d read more about the cemetery, I’d learned that many, many important and famous people had been interred there (Édith Piaf, Oscar Wilde, Sarah Bernhardt, Marcel Proust, Gertrude Stein, Frédéric Chopin, etc), and decided it might be an interesting place to visit.

As we approached the cemetery, we saw a man selling maps at the entrance. We said “Bonjour,” but he was American and could tell we were, too. He asked us where we were from, and we told him, and he asked if we had any “greenbacks” – he would sell us the map for two American dollars rather than two Euros, which he called “Monopoly money.” We looked at one another, forked over the $2 and said thanks, wondering if the guy had any clue that the dollar is worth considerably less than the Euro! We figured he must have been in Paris a looooong time ;)

The cemetery is something to behold… you step off a noisy, crowded street into a quiet place with tall trees and cobblestoned streets… it’s like stepping through a door into another world.

It’s over 100 acres, and the graves, memorials and tombs are all really interesting to see. There are memorials to the victims of the Holocaust, to people who died for the French resistance during World War II, and to the soldiers who helped liberate the Nazi concentration camps. Matt and I both got a bit emotional reading the markers.

We found several of the graves that I wanted to see, but unfortunately, the cimetière was closing and they kicked us out before we got a chance to see Jim Morrison’s famous grave. Ah, well.

Sarah Bernhardt, actress

Oscar Wilde, Irish writer. The tradition is for female visitors to leave a lipstick kiss on his tomb...

Gertrude Stein, American writer who was born in Pennsylvania and spent most of her life in Paris (hmm... why do I feel drawn to her? lol...). Her love, Alice Toklas, is buried in the same grave, and her name and dates of birth & death are etched on the back of the stone.

Édith Piaf, famous French chanteuse (singer) and subject of the recent film La Vie En Rose, for which Marion Cotillard won the Oscar for Best Actress just a few weeks ago.

After leaving Père-Lachaise, we went back to the hotel room to relax for a bit before setting out for the Latin Quarter for dinner and a show. On the way back to the hotel, we spied a flower vendor on the street and Matt bought me a lovely little bouquet of daffodils… my favorite!

I didn’t have a vase, so we improvised ;)

Getting off the Metro in the Quartier Latin, we knew we had found the happenin’ part of town. The streets were crowded with people our age and younger, smoking and laughing. There were lots of bars, clubs, shops, restaurants, etc. We found a place to eat dinner, and ordered moules (mussels) à la crème, steak with a creamy bleu cheese sauce, and for dessert, and apple tart that made me weak in the knees.

After dinner, there was a very special show I’d been hoping to see. Can you guess what it was?

Yes! The Rocky Horror Picture Show, of course! The Paris RHPS cast was THE BEST cast I have ever seen, and I could only understand half of what they were saying! They do some of the more traditional callbacks in English, but they have their own French callbacks as well, and their props and costumes are flawless. Best of all, they get really involved with the audience, and there is never a dull moment in the tiny basement theater where the show takes place. My favorite moment was during the Janet bedroom scene, when their Frank-N-Furter, played by the delightful Antoine, came over to me (we were sitting right in the front row) and asked me a question in French. I just looked at him helplessly, but he quickly switched to English: “Do you like sports?”

“A little,” I replied.

“Well, you’ll like this one!” he said, grabbing my ankles and, well, basically dry-humped me while yelling things like “We will try out for the Olympics! We will be the French-American team!” as I melted into a pool of helpless giggles in my seat.

After the show, we chatted a bit with another American who'd been in the audience, and then it was time to head home. (It really was beginning to feel like home...)

Notre chambre is the center room at the top of the photo.

All in all, I’d have to say that it really was a rather wonderful day… and, as was the point of the trip in the first place, the number 34 was the farthest thing from my mind ;)

Coming soon: Day 5!

Paris: Day 3, or "I said I wanted to go to the top; I didn't say I wasn't scared!"

Paris Travel Journal

Day 3

On Day 3 of our trip (Day 2 in Paris), we woke up refreshed after finally getting some decent sleep. After showering and getting dressed, we went downstairs to the lobby of the hotel for breakfast, where we got to savor our first *real* French croissants! Coffee, pains au chocolat (chocolate croissants – my new favorite food!), mini-baguettes, frommage (cheese), salami, and dried apricots (soooo tender and sweet – nothing like the ones we have here!) were also sampled by moi. Matt the non-foodie had a bowl of cereal… and got the “I didn’t fly over 3500 miles to eat cereal!” from me. LOL.

After breakfast, we bundled up and set out for Le Tour Eiffel! I was soooo excited… I felt like I would *really* know I was in Paris once I got a glimpse of the famous Tower.

We took the Métro (Parisian subway) from our hotel. The subway system in Paris is similar to the one in New York; there are many different lines which run to all parts of the city, and you’re never more than a few blocks from a Métro station... ours was half a block from our hotel.

After we changed trains from the one that took us from our hotel to the one that would take us to Le Tour Eiffel, a man with an accordion boarded our subway car. Once the train started moving, he started to play, and it was so pretty and so Parisien that I almost cried from sheer happiness.

We had to get off the Métro one stop early because the one nearest the Eiffel Tower was closed for repairs. We came out of the station, rounded the corner, and I gasped – there it was! The very symbol of Paris!

We took many photos along the walk towards the tower, crossing a bridge over the Seine.

We walked along the river until we reached the Tower. The closer we got, the more amazing it was. It’s HUGE. As we walked underneath, Matt asked “why do my feet hurt when I look up at it?” I had to laugh, because I really did marry my mother – she gets “pains in her feet” contemplating heights, too!

We got in line for tickets to go to the top of the Tower. There are three levels; you can buy a ticket to any of them. Matt asked me if I wanted to go all the way to the top. "Mais oui!" While waiting, we chatted with the couple behind us, who were from the Canary Islands, and we sampled some frites from the concession stand. Matt had a coke and I had a café crème that I promptly declared “the best coffee I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

A word about French food – everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING tastes better in Paris. From the obvious things like croissants, chocolate, and rich, buttery sauces, to even things like potato chips, Coca-Cola (made with real sugar -- no high fructose corn syrup!), and mayonnaise. Food is intended to be enjoyed. The point of eating in France is not to just satisfy hunger (which we Americans tend to do by gulping down as many bland calories as we can, as cheaply as possible, while dashing from one place to another) but to really experience the sensual pleasures of food – the tastes, the aromas, the textures. One of my only regrets about our Paris trip is that I didn’t have enough time to sample as many different foods as I wanted... but everything I did get a chance to eat was divine.

After waiting in line for what felt like a hundred years, we finally boarded the elevator which would take us to the second level, after which we’d get a second elevator to the top. The elevators go right up the “legs” of the tower, and it’s a bit unnerving to watch the ground drop away from this tiny car filled with people! Matt looked at my face and teased me about being afraid. I replied, “I said I wanted to go to the top; I didn’t say I wasn’t scared!”

It was a looooong line for tickets to the top!

We spent some time on the second level before journeying to the top. We took lots of photos, of course. I stopped in at the gift shop and bought a mini-replica Tour Eiffel for Jacob, as well as a few other souvenirs. Then we boarded the elevator and soon we were about 300 meters off the ground! I tiptoed to the edge to peer down. The view was dizzying. And yes, you really can see all the way to the ocean.

Holding on for dear life!

Matt can't even look!

The view from the top

On the way down, we stopped on the first level, where we mailed some postcards from La Poste and sat for a bit before journeying back down to the ground. There was an ice replica of the Tower on the first level – when Jacob saw our photos of it, he declared it the “Ice-el Tower” ;)

While waiting for the elevator, the tendonitis in my ankles really started to flare up from all the standing I’d done that day. It’s odd; I can walk moderate distances without much trouble, but if I stand in one place for more than ten minutes I can really screw up my ankles. We thought about calling it a day and heading back to the hotel, but I decided to ignore the pain and keep going.

The wheels that move the elevator cables... just watching them turn is enough to make you dizzy!

Au revoir, Tour Eiffel!

After leaving the Tower, it was back to the Métro, which we took to the Musée du Louvre, home of some of the most famous art in the entire world. Before going into the museum, we had dinner in the food court below. Yes, it’s a food court – but nothing like the food courts of American malls. There are several stands serving different types of cuisine from all over the world. I considered carefully and opted (quelle surprise!) for the French: a generous filet of salmon topped with a creamy sauce, vegetable gratin, couscous, and a glass of rosé. (Oh, how I adore being in a city where a soda, a glass or wine or a beer all cost the same!) Matt the non-foodie had a burger and frites. Well... to each their own!

I discreetly put my feet on the chair across from mine while we ate, hoping that would help ease the inflammation in my ankles. Afterwards, we went into the museum and viewed the Venus de Milo, Winged Victory, and several other Greek/Roman pieces before going up to the first floor to see the most famous painting in the world, Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. Despite the admonishing of the museum’s brochure that no photographs should be taken on the first floor, people were snapping flash photos of the painting while the museum guards just stood watching. (My dad’s theory as to why they don’t care if people take photos: it’s not the real Mona Lisa.)

The infamous inverted pyramid

Venus de Milo -- I have a miniature replica of this sculpture in my bedroom, which my parents brought back from their trip to the Greek Isles.



Winged Victory -- this statue is near and dear to my heart, because she was one of the symbols of my high school. We had a life-sized replica of her in our "Pink Marble Hall".



The most famous painting in the world -- Da Vinci's La Giaconda, or in English, the Mona Lisa.

By the time we left the hall where Mona Lisa was, I was in tears from my ankle pain. We sat for a bit and then ventured back to our hotel. I took some Aleve and Matt went to the convenience store near the hotel and got me a Heineken, which helped a bit. A quick phone call to our boy, and we were soon fast asleep.

Coming soon: Day 4!

Paris: Day 1 & 2, or "I'm hungry, and it's chicken!"

Paris Travel Journal

Day 1 & 2:

Day one doesn’t really count as a Paris day; we began traveling on 5 March, but didn’t arrive in Paris until 7am on 6 March. We got up early, did some last-minute packing, and drove with my dad and Jacob to the Trenton train station. After goodbye hugs and kisses, we took the train into NYC and the subway to JFK airport. Our flight was scheduled to depart at 5:55pm but didn’t get off the ground until about 7pm due to delays. The pilot said we would make up the time by following a slightly different flight plan (and we did arrive in Paris on time).

The food on the flight was laughable; it was almost like they wanted to give you one last reminder that American food is absolute swill compared with what we’d be eating in Paris. I choked down a few bites of rubbery chicken and decided to forgo the solid white lump that I can only guess was supposed to be mashed potatoes. I tried to sleep, but it just wasn’t happening, so I half-watched the in-flight movies (Bee Movie and Apollo 13) and tried to stay comfy. In the morning, the airline’s final send-off was what were supposed to be croissants (crescent shaped bread does not a croissant make!) for breakfast.

Landed in Paris and breezed through customs, where I had my first chance to practice my “Bonjour!” While waiting for our baggage, Matt befriended an American expat who offered to share a cab ride with us to the 18^th arrondisement, where our hotel was. It was nice to not have to take yet another series of trains.

Arrived at the hotel at about 8:30am Paris time (2:30am Philly time). Checked in, but our room wouldn’t be ready until 2pm (8am Philly time), so we left our bags and walked outside with our map, exhausted with no idea what to do next!

I knew I would function better after some caffeine, so after wandering aimlessly for a few blocks, we stopped at a café. “Bonjour!” (I’m loving this!) We chose a table and I ordered a café crème (similar to a cappuccino), and Matt got a jus d'ananas (pineapple juice).

My très sexy husband!

Tired, but very happy to be in Paris!

We examined our map and listened to the patrons conversing in French (I could just sit for hours and listen to people speaking French! Je l’aime!) We decided to walk a bit farther south, up the hill of Montmartre to see the Basilique du Sacré-Coeur and the windmills.

We walked up 200, oui, 200 steps to Montmartre.

As soon as we reached the top, the street “artists” began offering to draw our picture... we just shook our heads and said “non, merci” over and over again. There were several souvenir shops and cafes along the street we turned down, and Matt went in to find a hat and scarf (he’d forgotten his at home). After he was properly outfitted for the cold, we went a bit further down the street, and suddenly the Sacré Coeur popped into view!

We took in the view both of the church and of Paris beneath. Both were breathtaking.

Took lots of photos of the outside of the church, but once we got inside we were forbidden to take any more – a pity, because the inside of the domes is really cool. A mass was being held while we were inside, so we had to be quiet as we “ooohed” and “aaahed” at everything. After exploring the church, we went back outside and headed to the Place du Tertre, a square where lots of artists have paintings for sale.

We had lunch in a small sandwich shop on the square (jambon avec frommage on a baguette, and a Nutella crêpe) and then wandered down the other side of the hill in search of les moulins (windmills).

We took a look at our map, and while we were trying to figure out which way to go, a kind old French man asked us (in French, of course) what we were looking for. I told him “the Moulin Rouge” and tried my best to understand his directions. While it turns out that he did point us the right way, we got lost twice more before finally finding the Moulin Rouge! On the way, we also passed the Moulin de la Galette, the other famous windmill of Montmartre, and a couple of French-speaking tourists asked if I spoke French and if I knew were the Salvador Dali museum was… I hoped that meant that I didn't look like a tourist! LOL.

By the time we made it down the hill to the Moulin Rouge, we were both beyond tired (we’d been awake for about 25 hours). There was no way we were walking back up the hill and over to our hotel! So, we hailed a taxi and rode back to the hotel, where our nice cozy room was finally ready for us. I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow.

Our hotel room, number 34. We also sat in row 34 of the airplane. I'm beginning to sense a theme about this trip...

We napped for about 3.5 hours and then showered, changed and headed out for dinner. After browsing through "our" neighborhood a bit, we found a place that looked good. I got to practice my French quite a bit, as the waitress spoke no English, but was very forgiving of my “Franglish”! I had a glass of Alsatian wine, Matt had a Coke, and we ordered the poulet roti and frites for dinner, with a crudité (grated raw veggies with vinaigrette) and charcuterie (assorted pork sausages) for starters. And of course, crème brûlée for dessert. Yum! I asked my husband the non-foodie if he liked his dinner. His response: "Hey, I'm hungry, and it's chicken."

Matt looks très French in his scarf!

Mmm... wine!

The crème brûlée didn't last long enough to have its photo taken!

We walked back to the hotel, silly from wine and punchy from too little sleep. On the way we took photos of a few things which amused us:

Matt thought the door handle on this phone booth had an intriguing shape ;)

So, in French the word "assiette" means an assortment, in culinary terms it means an assortment of food. However, when they abbreviate it, it takes on a whole new meaning to a couple of American tourists with a 4th grade sense of humor!

Yet another reason why Paris is the most romantic city on earth: this florist shop has a 24-hour vending machine, so you can drop your money in and pick up a bouquet for your amour, day or night!

Then it was back to the hotel, where we giggled over French-dubbed American TV, and called home to talk to Jacob before drifting back into dreamland until morning.

Coming soon: Day 3!

Nine

I'm a lazy blogger. Haven't posted anything here in a couple of weeks! I've started several posts but haven't had the perseverance to finish writing anything. Blame it on stress - both good and bad.

Today is my baby's 9th birthday. WOW. Let me just tell you -- nothing could have prepared me for how quickly that was going to go past...

I look at him and I still see the tiny cuddly guy they placed in my arms after my c-section... but he's almost as tall as me now! Eek! How does that happen?! *Sigh*... where did the time go? And after nine years, don't you think I'd have the hang of this parenting gig? I'm still flying by the seat of my pants!

This Saturday, another significant date will come to pass, but I'll barely notice it, because I'll be in Paris :) Yes, our trip is finally here! Yay! I really need to start packing! I can't wait. Just two more days...

;)