Going Native

I'm way behind on my posts, so much has happened. I'll get to the days I've missed but I just had to share this with you. We are back in Paris right now and Ted and I are on our own, and we've gone native. Ted in a French Scarf!

I'm having a blast.

C

Amis de Quasimoto

I got up early and ran a couple of miles. After a few laps around the Place des Vosges I moved out onto the main streets around the Marais and pretty much had them to myself. It was a good feeling, kind of like a Nike commercial but without the sound track and Matrix-like special effects. At the very least, it gave me the excuse to eat more croissants :)

First full day of touring together.

After a quick breakfast the group was off on the metro to Ile de la Cité – a sort of banana shaped island in the center of Paris – the heart of the city, its historic core, the dark savage underbelly. This little island defines Paris into the right bank and left bank and cradles the famous Notre-Dame. Quasimoto was expecting us.

But first up for our group was Sainte-Chapelle, a unique Gothic cathedral with massive, detailed stained glass windows. Built in the mid 13th century (so, really, really old) in just 5 years by the French King Louis IX. He built it to house the supposed Crown of Thorns sold to him by Huey Long (ancestor of the inventor of the Post-It notes). Hmmm…

The stained glass was cool enough – lots of religious scenes as one would expect, covering the Christian version of the history of the world from start to cataclysmic end. The Gothic architects did a great job of turning a dark stone building into one of light and color when the sun shines through the 6,500 square feet of glass. Ted and I walked in, bobbed our heads, hummed a little, and escaped since the Crown of Thorns were not in residence just then. Bummer.

The really big highlight of this first stop was the security check point to get into the cathedral. Ted took off his belt to go through the X-ray and the machine ate it. The damned thing never came out again or Ted just walked off and forgot it. Not sure which it was – you decide. But for the rest of the day (this happened first thing in the morning) he had to walk around like a prisoner holding up his pants. Sigh.

Next up – the famous 700 year old Notre-Dame Cathedral filled with history and tourists. Our most excellent guide, Christine, used a trick of the trade to get us into the church quickly. She just moved right to the front of the very long line with her hand raised in the air and a determined “we have a special appointment” look on her face and we followed close behind like monks on a mission. People just moved aside and in we went. Slick.

Set in a typical basilica floor plan – think of a big cross – there is a long central room flanked by huge columns where mass was in full play. We tourists were routed around the ambulatory like medieval pilgrims but with better dental plans and cleaner armpits.

Around the edges are little naves with various statues of saints surrounded by flickering candles. I have a little tradition for when I visit cathedrals and churches in Europe. Having been raised as a fully functioning Catholic (8 years of nuns, every sacrament except last rites, mental scars that will never heal), I am now retired and stay clear of anything requiring burning incense. But when in these ancient monuments to organized religion I light a candle for my Mom, Dad, and grandmother Roro. So I did that for them in the magnificent Notre-Dame in the heart of Pari. I told them I missed them and was thinking of them. Rituals. I think it’s OK to hold on to a few. (Swallow lump in throat and move on…)

Ted and I escaped fairly quickly and headed out. We snagged a fresh baguette and then lucked onto a Wine Cave and purchased a nice bottle from the Cotes de Rhone region. We sat in a little park on the left side of the Seine across from Notre-Dame and had a lovely picnic. A theme that seems to continue on through this journey. It was while sitting there enjoying the moment that I noticed how cool Notre-Dame was from the outside. The flying buttresses give the whole building such a striking look and feel. It was another of those “I’m really in Paris” moments. I don’t know, could have been the wine though.

Time to re-group, so we made a quick stop at a patisserie for a chocolate croissant and some other confection filled with strawberry jam. We ate those while walking to the meeting point, then it was on to the Musée d’Orsay which houses French art mainly from the 1800’s (again, really old stuff). This is the haven of Impressionism – bright colors, sunshine on fields of flowers – think a photograph viewed through a haze of acid. I saw works from some of my favorite artists including Monet, Gauguin, Van Gogh, and Cézanne. For me, the best part was seeing Vincent van Gogh’s self-portrait. For Ted, it was works of art featuring naked women en flagrante as it were… I bet that surprises no one.

As if this day was not chock full of stuff already…a few of our new friends, Bob and Marolyn plus by then we'd captured Kathleen and Betsy, all metro’d with us over to Rue Cler, a nice pedestrian friendly street with plenty of cafés. We snagged a table and got to know each other over a glass of wine. Go figure. BR joined us while catching up on some reading.

Next back to the hotel for a quick nap to re-charge and then gathered for happy hour in the lobby. By then our group within a group grew to include Benny, Tzu-Chen, and Chris our guide. We headed up to Montmartre – Paris’ highest hilltop. By then it was evening and the lights were coming on. All 11 of us had a nice meal at L’ete en Pente Douce restaurant. I finally got my first real food of the day – a creamy quiche with ham - makes you drool, doesn't it. I practically licked the plate clean...;)

We all climbed up/down the massive stairs to the top of Montmartre (more exercise to counteract all that wine – cool) to see the Sacré Coeur basilica above and Paris laid out below, all lit up as the true city of Light.

The Eiffel Tower did it’s light show at the top of the hour. Much walking, crepe filled with Nutella, and a long walk and metro ride home to Hotel Castex. Finally made it to bed around 11:30pm.

À bientôt.

La Tour Eiffel

Today was a good day. For starters, we found an excellent wine shop just around the corner from our hotel. Very, very close to our hotel – and they speak English. This could be good or this could go down bad.

Today we found irrefutable proof that we were – in fact – in Paris. To me there’s only one way to do that which is get a view of the Eiffel Tower. Our hotel is in the Marais near the Place de la Bastille, so we started walking in that direction, wound down to the Seine, crossed to the left bank over the Pont de Sully and fell upon the vibrant gardens of the Jardin des Plantes.

Along the way I noticed that everyone was bundled up like it was winter. What’s up with that? Yes it’s May and it is cool and overcast, but I didn’t see snow anywhere (certainly not 3 feet of it) so I didn’t really get what everyone was all freaking out about. But all the women had really cool scarves – some of the men too – so…

I’m practically a Parisian, non?

Continuing our meandering through the 5th arrondisement, we strolled the Arènes de Lutèce (remains of a Roman Arena in Paris) and then over to the Place du Panthéon. Pretty Cool.

Along the way we started to gather provisions – things that go with wine.

I just followed that blue pack with the lovely baguette popping out, knowing there was cheese and some lovely salami-type thing keeping that bread company. 

Finally, it was time to cut to the chase so we got on the Métro and zipped over to where the Eiffel Tower is supposed to be.

Et Violà! There it was. This fantastic city must really be Paris.

It was there – along with something like 1 Billion tourists waiting in line to go up the tower. Everything I’ve heard is that going up in the tour is a pretty over-rated so we just walked underneath through the crowds

and out onto the Parc du Champ-de-Mars (the park in front of the tour).

Oh and Boneless Rabbit made it too.

Ok, now the fun can truly begin. By that I mean…Picnic Time.

After that we got back on the metro and came back to the hotel for a break. Later we went back out and back down to the Seine where we unknowingly crashed an antique show (didn’t know there was an entrance fee - oops) and wandered around for awhile.

That evening it was finally time to meet our Tour Group. Introductions were made and we picked our Buddies – mine is Kathleen and Ted’s is Betsy – two really cool ladies who are old friends traveling together. They have great potential as Comrades in Trouble and especially Tour Drinking Buddies. An excellent find for sure.

















The group went for a little orientation walk into the Marais and including the Place des Vosges. Then we had our first group dinner at Café des Musées not too far from our hotel, which was pretty good food but not that memorable. It might have been that we were a big group and the meal was picked ahead of time. What was memorable from that first meal was the fellowship – we sat with Kathleen and Betsy, plus Carol – an energetic Lady of the First Order - and Gloria who is very nice.

After we all walked back to our hotel – Ted and I made one last trip out to Le Baron Rouge, a Cave (wine bar) that we had read about in the Washington Post. Got there just before they closed and had a nice glass of wine. It was a cool little hole in the wall with an interesting crowd so we have to get back there again before this is over.

Ok – we are definitely in Paris and definitely getting into the groove.

Next up, definitely need to exercise more to counteract large quantities of French Bread and French Wine.

Bonne nuit.
C

Sommes-nous à Paris?

We made it. I think.

Transatlantic travel in cattle-class, even Air France, is tough. You can't ever get comfortable. It's either too hot or too cold. And at our age, going without sleep for 24+ hours can make you feel a little rough around the edges. Air France does it better than our American airlines, I'll give them that. Real Food Was Served...with Wine. It was good and didn't cost extra. Try to find that on United in the back of the plane. But still, when we arrived we felt, well, scruffy.

All that withstanding, we made it with all our luggage - even Boneless Rabbit. Unpronounable Volcanic Ash cannot keep us from Paris.  I think.

It kind of looks like many other European cities. Except for everyone speaking rapid French (or Greek, I'm not sure...just goes to show you that 100s of hours spent with Rosetta Stone did not help me...no one is standing next to a yellow bicycle asking "What is she riding?" Un vélo jaune!). Well, how do we know we are really in Paris?

Not much time to explore when we arrived on Friday. The most important thing to do first was, of course, get provisioned and have our fist French meal. Then we had dinner reservations at a nearby restaurant called Bistrot de l'Oulette. Based on a recommendation from the friendly hotel receptionist, Eskender, and some good reviews found on Chowhound.com, we had a very memoralbe first meal. Are you ready?

We chose the bistro over the restaurant - same chef, lower price, less formal - and selected the fixed price menu for dinner - only 33€ for an entrée (starter), plat (main course), and dessert. Pretty good deal. I did not tell Boneless Rabbit (kept her in my purse) as I ordered Salade d'effiloché de lapin à l'estragon avec croûtons aux oignons rouges which basically translates to succulent shredded rabbit with tarrogon red onions on toasted bread. This had a very clean, fresh taste which the carmelized red onions on the toast went really well.

The other starter was a fantastic brick croustillant au fromage de chèvre avec crevettes et cumin - or to us heathens - crispy pastry filled with goat cheese and shrimp mixed with cumin. Délicieux...Ok, get ready for the main courses...

First up, what everyone on Chowhound raved about...Cassoulet maison aux confits. This was comforting bean stew with duck, pork, and sausages. Every cook who ever secretly called themselves a chef has tried to make Cassoulet - some succeed, many fail. This chef had it just right. Ted and I fought over this one. Warm, deep complex flavor, and good to the last spoonful.

But not to be outdone was the other main... Magret de canard rôti, jus au port. Duck breast with port. Say no more just move over and let me in. Even as good as that was, it was almost outshone by what accompanied it...the smell of the creamy potatoes au gratin was divine. It wafted up from the plate and made me just hum - yum. That dish we had to split evenly or there would have been a fight.

Dessert we both agreed and ordered the same thing based on online reviews - Croustade aux pomme carmélisées, granité à l'Armagnac. Ok, right there from the French name you know anything with semi-frozen alcohol must be good. It was. We savored each bite.

Even after all that great food, I still wasn't sure we were in Paris. I need to see the Eiffel Tour in person. Then I'll know. 

But, sleep happens to weary, well fed, semi-tipsy travelers, so that must wait until Saturday.

Bonne nuit.

C