Week at a glance

So this was my last full week in Paris until I take off for Portugal/Spain on Thursday for about 10 days and I wanted to make the best of it.

I had a few recommendations of places to explore, but unfortunately, as the weather did not comply, I only did a little bit of exploration outdoors. Things I did this week:

1) Parc des Buttes Chaumont - Beautiful little park with a temple/oracle/rotunda in the center. Very nice and quite place to explore if you want to get away from the big city feel. Also, on a clear day, the view from the temple is absolutely amazing! One thing though to mention, if you take the metro to Buttes Chaumont, when you get off the train, there are two "sortie" signs, one points to stairs and the other to an elevator. Take the elevator! I looked at the sign and figured that a few steps wouldn't kill me and I wasn't about to go and take a smelly and tiny elevator up, what, a floor or two? I mean come on, I climb to my 5th floor walk-up every day (sometimes 3 times a day!). Yeah, so in my wisdom, I took the stairs, and I felt like I must have climbed to the 6th or 7th floor. In fact, from the bottom, I couldn't even see the end!! Take the elevator people.

2) Louvre - I bought my carte jeune which, for 30 euros, allows me entry to the Louvre, the temporary exhibits, allows me to bring a guest twice a week during special evening hours and also allows me to skip the lines for the next year. A good deal, methinks. I began my exploration by going to see the Richelieu wing (beautiful paintings as well as the apartments) and then checking in on the Mona Lisa for a quick minute. I think I might go back this Wednesday before heading on "vacation".

3) I got "lost" in the Marais and found a lot of little side streets with cute little shops and finally made it to Place des Vosges. Luckily, while it was super cold on this day, it was at least sunny!
At Place des Vosges, I saw the cutest little redheaded boy, who was a complete troublemaker - then again what redhead isn't? This kid stole a scooter from his big brother, attempted to steal a ball from a kid that was younger than him and then proceeded to dig a hole in the dirt (all this in the 10 minutes or so that I stalked him with my camera). Ahh, a kid after my own heart :) I think I could have passed him off as my own if I had stolen him!

Oh and for this week, and this week only, I will not be commenting on my annoyance at having a couple pretty much making out on top of me in the metro and I will chalk it up to Valentine's Day.

That's about it, on top of my near daily walks to the Notre Dame area. I have a lot more to explore though and I will get back down to business upon my return. March promises a visit to the Loire Valley castles, maybe (hopefully) Mont St. Michel and of course, as a good Jew, who can forget all the churches in Paris!

Food review

This past week, we decided to try a little restaurant called L'Ambassade d'Auvergne.

When the first two people in our party arrived, they were told that since they had no reservations, the restaurant did not have room. However, upon our arrival, my roomie was able to charm them into finding us a table. We sat down and were handed menus. In French. Not a big deal, right? I mean food is generally easy to understand, right? That would be a no.

For instance, there was a dish called "Saucisse de Parlan & Aligot". Sausage with something. But with what? There was also the "Filets d'Omble Chevalier poêlés aux Amandes, Purée de Potiron" where the words we understood were filet (of horse?!) with almonds and puree. After much examination and attempts at translating the menus, I finally broke down and asked for an English menu, and low and behold things actually made sense (though we are still not sure if that really was a filet of horse on the menu).

The waiter brought us bread and pork pate (yum!) to hold us over until our food was ready. One of my friends ordered the lentils, which were actually fairly decent and had a bit of an onion-y spice to them. For the meal, I had the aforementioned sausage with mashed potatoes with cheese (or is it actually more fair to say cheese with mashed potatoes?). This dish was absolutely delicious and I would highly recommend it. I also stole a little bit of the cabbage millefeuille from someone at the table and it was quite good as well (this coming from someone who tends to hate cooked cabbage). Unfortunately, we did not have room for dessert portion of this event, though we all dreamt about the mousse au chocolat. The table next to us told us that they had ordered one mousse au chocolat which came in a big tub with enough for 3-4 people to share easily!

Definitely a thumbs up and I intend to drag my parents here so they can try the sausage and potatoes and I can indulge my sweet tooth!

Late nights and bike rides?

So last night as I was leaving a club and bidding adieu to my friend, despite being offered a place to crash until the metro came back to life, I assured her that I would just catch a cab and be home within 10 minutes. Ahh, yes, for those familiar with Parisian night life, you can see how silly I was!

I walked to the main square at Republique, sure that there would be millions of cabs. There were hundreds and hundreds of cabs. Unfortunately for me, and everyone else, the cabs were all full. I then saw that there was a queue of people waiting for taxis and decided to abide by the rules and get in line rather than try to poach a cab. I stood in the line for a good 5 minutes and quickly realized that I hadn’t moved nor had I even seen an empty cab pass.

At this point, I realized that there were night buses and made the rounds, searching for a stop where I might actually catch a night bus that went to Bastille (all the while, still hoping against hope, that I might see an empty cab). During my search, I also came across people trying to rent bikes, for what I can only assume, was their trip home. Now, in case you are not familiar with this, Paris has bike stands all over the city (and I am told that there are cities in the US who also subscribe to this phenomenon). There are something like 10-20 bikes at each station. You sign up online, come to a bike stand, rent a bike for some tiny fee, and ride it where-ever you want. You can even ride it from one stand to another and drop the bike off there. As I searched for a taxi or bus to take me home, I started wishing that I had one of these accounts because despite the high heels and dress I was wearing, I would have gladly hopped on a bike and ridden it home.

Lest you be concerned about my welfare, I did indeed find a bus and took it home. Upon getting off at Bastille, I was greeted by about 10 kids riding their rented bikes home from a late night out. I guess riding bikes doesn’t constitute a DUI here. I am however debating investing in a bike membership for my last month here, if not for the convenience of being able to explore the city by bike in addition to by foot, but also in order to be able to get home late at night with as little hassle as possible considering we have a bike stand a block from home.

Whimsical stories and complaints galore!

On to (what I think are) whimsical observations of life in Pa-ree, fun stories and little things I’ve learned this past week.

This past week, a bunch of us decided to go out to Barrio Latino and do some salsa dancing. It helps that this place is literally right across the street from our house, but we were sad to find out that the cover is 20 euros (though this does include a drink and is actually worth it for the fun dancing). However, since my roomie is wonderful with bouncers and seems to know how to charm them, I (literally) pushed her to the front of the line to make friends and try to get us in for free. According to Olivia, the following morning, as a way of making friends with him (or maybe a form of blackmail), she was trying to tell the bouncer that she can see him changing from our 5th floor apartment! (More on this in a minute). However, from my understanding of the conversation (in broken French and English), what she actually said to him, was that since we live on the top floor, across the street, he could watch her change… not a bad deal for him with such a bribe, me thinks? All for just letting us in! Then again, by this point of the evening, I had downed ¾ of a bottle of red wine, and maybe, just maybe, my French understanding was slightly impaired.

As for being able to watch us change… so the very first day we moved into our apartment, we had an agent come with the contract and while we were talking to said little old lady, I glanced across the street, and what did I see, but two large windows into a locker room. It can’t possibly be a locker room, I thought to myself. But alas, it was (and is). So while signing the contract, I was thoroughly distracted when there was a half naked man in the window across. Yes, from our living room, we can, apparently, see the changing room for the male staff of Barrio Latino. And every day, we get a show (if we choose to watch). Hence why Olivia’s story that she can watch him change makes sense, but I think that her offering to let him watch her change is simply funnier and thus what my brain decided she was offering in exchange for his help.

What would my blog be without a complaint? Afterall, I am in Paris (according to our tour guide from Saturday, the French like to complain), so when in France… I bought a lovely going out dress on Wednesday (the first time I actually bothered to go out shopping). Now, this is week 4 or 5 of the soldes, so in other words, very few good things can actually still be found. Thus, I bought boots (on sale, go me!) and a dress (not on sale, but it was hung on a redheaded mannequin and I figured it was a sign and fell in love!) I decided to wear said dress on Friday night, but when I went to look in the mirror, I realized there was a little hole. Not the type of hole that appeared because the stitching ripped, but the type of hole that was likely made by moths. So I decided that I would go to the store and try to exchange the dress. I worked through the words in French and how I would explain that I did not make the hole, but that it was already there and while I love the dress, I should get a new one that is not quite as hole-y. Well, having practiced the phrases over and over in my head, I arrived at the mall. On a Sunday. Yeah… while this is a big shopping day in the US (since, you know, people aren’t working on Sundays, and it makes sense for them to shop), this does not hold true on Sunday. So of course, the mall was closed. As my friend Alex would say, *le sigh*. Oh well, it’s not like I have classes on Tuesday, so I will try my luck then.

Speaking of practicing my French. I think it’s getting worse if that’s possible? I’m sure I look like a deer caught in headlights every time someone tries to talk to me. The week started off well. I was stopped by a young man on a motorcycle who asked me for directions and I was actually able to help him and formulate coherent sentences. The following day, a woman asked me how to get from one side of a platform to the other, and again not only did I understand what she wanted, I was able to explain to her where she should go. I was able to converse with the falafel man and explain what I did and didn’t want on my falafel and I was able to talk to the woman in the shoe store about the boots I bought (though then I realized she was Russian, and we switched over to that…). But then there was Friday night when every single guy I talked to and every single conversation that was started in French, ended with “D’ou est-tu?” (Where are you from?), followed by “Tu parle francais?” And upon my answer of “un peu” switched over to English. My ego was not helped, when on Saturday night, at the chanson place, I could not understand a word that the grandpa next to us was saying. Maybe it was the fact that he was slurring his speech? Or maybe my French is just that crummy. Yeah, I’ll go with the latter and maybe it’s time for me to bust out the Rosetta Stone again and practice my French some more.

And now for a moment of – did that really just happen and me being too shocked to even respond (which appears to be a big theme in my world). I was at the gym on Sunday morning (yes, I know, only losers go to the gym on Sunday mornings and Friday nights, but at least I wasn’t there Friday night so that should count for something). And since 2 of the 5 treadmills at the gym are broken, I had to wait in line to get on. Well, I noticed a man who came up and talked to his friend (who was on a treadmill) right before I got in line. While I was doing the perfectly American thing of waiting patiently on the side, he came back over to his friend, who proceeded to get off the treadmill and yield her spot to her friend, who happily got on and began to run. I must have looked like a sad lost puppy because I honestly had no idea what to say other than “qu’est-ce que vous faites? J’etais ici…” but then I held back because God-forbid he do something other than simply get off and agree that I was right. Luckily, about seven minutes later (yes, I did count out of bitterness), I got a treadmill. Unluckily for me though, this treadmill did not have a working incline. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

That is all for this edition of random stories and complaints, though I am in Paris for another 10 days before heading to Portugal and Spain, so do not despair, as I’m sure that I will have plenty more thoughts on my love of most things French!




And a quick disclaimer for those concerned, I may have overestimated my love for London. Well rather, I did love London immensely, but Paris has this “je ne sais quoi” that was unquantifiable in my comparative analysis and I guess it’s enough to say that you have to embrace all things French and just say, when in France…

FOOD!

Ok what kind of tourist would I be if I didn’t comment on the food? Simply, a bad one. So, let’s amend this trend. With all my travels the last two months, I’ve had some delicious food! From the goulash in Budapest, to discovering that I LOVE roasted eggplant in Marrakech to delicious bangers and mash in London… and of course the wonderful French food that I can’t seem to get enough of!



I’ll start with London where I finally had authentic bangers and mash and fish and chips. Unlike my experience in Marrakech, where I discovered that the tagines that I knew and loved were not the authentic thing (yes, a very sad discovery, indeed), London surprised me with yummy food! The first night we ate at Canteen where I had amazing bangers and mash, I then dabbled with some Chinese and Indian food the following day and had great fish and chips with pear cider at a local pub on our last night! But the height of the London experience was having afternoon tea at The Dorchester! (Where is Lindsey when you need her fake-British accent). Though the price seems slightly steep at about 38 pounds (60 dollars), the experience is definitely worth it! We were treated to 5 different kinds of sandwiches (chicken, mozzarella, egg, cucumber and salmon), with the cucumber and egg sandwiches being my absolute favorites! The second course consisted of chocolate mousse and the third course was yummy little desserts and scones with jam. Oh and of course there was tea! I had very strong, yet delicious Russian tea! Overall a great experience.

Ok, now after that little detour, let’s get to the main event… food in PARIS! Simply, food here is absolutely délicieuse!



I’ve had many a crepe – from the little stand on our corner to random little restaurants! The most memorable were at Breizh Café where at the end of our meal we split an amazingly delicious crepe with caramel and pears! Words can not describe how yummy this was! (Yes, I used the word yummy, get over it, it’s a very sophisticated word along with icky and such!) I also had a wonderful crepe at a little place in Provins (Mammy Gateaux) that had potatoes, cheese and bacon. Wonderful breakfast, indeed.

Another memorable place was Angelina. This is a salon du the, and famous for its hot chocolate! We had amazing hot chocolate there along with a cheese plate and a macaroon. The hot chocolate was rich beyond belief (though possibly too rich for some and actually a bit much even for this choc-a-holic who had to chase it with some water) and came with real cream! The macaroon was full of fresh raspberries… what else can I saw but yum?

The highlight (food-wise) of Paris, though, is L’as du Falafel. No, this place does not need any more advertising, but I have to mention (or rave) about how amazing this place is! The first time I went there (yes, I’ve been there 4 times now and will likely head there again at some point this week), I nearly had a heart attack over the length of the line, but was assured that I would have a falafel in hand within 15 minutes, and indeed, I did! The falafel is beyond amazing (5 euros for take away or 7 euros if you decide to brave the wait and sit), with very fresh and crispy yet soft falafel balls, plenty of cabbage, cucumbers and my new favorite, eggplant, all stuffed into a pita that looks like it will burst into pieces at any moment! I also tried the schwarma there, but it wasn’t nearly as amazing, though that’s a high standard to live up to and realistically it was still quite good, just not as good!)

What else have I had, you may be wondering? Some amazing wines which cost about 3 euros a bottle! A lot of good crepes, baguettes, potatoes and delicious desserts like begnets aux pommes… Actually, now that I think of it, I haven’t actually had anything bad! Not a single thing! Even, the sandwiches they sell in our cafeteria (with crawfish!) and the salads there are all yummy! If there’s one thing the French know how to do, it’s make amazing food! I’ll keep you updated with my food adventures, though I’m off to Portugal and Spain in about a week and a half, so the next foods I will be highlighting will be tapas and olive oils and all those sorts of yummy things! Can’t wait!

Back to our previously scheduled programming...

And now we return to my see-saw relationship with Paris, which is on the upswing this week! Maybe I just needed a little break from Paris (and got it in London), maybe it's the fact that the sun came out to play this week or the fact that I got to go out salsa dancing, but I am genuinely happy that I spent this past week(end) in Paris and will be spending the upcoming week here as well!

This week was a very touristy one for me! I went to Musee de l’Orangerie and Musee D’Orsay (grinning like an idiot when I walked into the impressionist room where I could marvel at all the Renoir, Monet, Soutine, Pissarro and Utrillo paintings my little heart could handle). I also walked around Paris (both alone and with a lovely Parisian tour guide), ate a lot of cheese (13 different kinds to be exact), went to an old Chanson restaurant where I (attempted) to sing French songs and ate some yummy French food! But something this week, made me love this city more and turned my previous annoyances around.

For instance, at the Chanson restaurant last night, we were the only Americans and the chanteuse was ridiculously nice, constantly explaining the meaning of the songs to us and making sure we were having a fabulous time! We also showed up sans reservation (albeit 30 minutes before the restaurant even opens) and the owner was kind enough to actually create space for us (i.e. bringing out extra chairs and a table for us!). We spent the evening singing, drinking and talking to the French family sitting next to us. In fact, there was a grandpa sitting at the table next to us who was there with his nephew, his daughter, her husband, their son and some random man. The grandpa plied us with wine all night, chastising me when I refused to drink, and continuously filling up MC and Teena’s glasses. The daughter was not so nice, and her husband kept looking at us apologetically as she shoved her cousin and tried to get him to stop talking to us, while grandpa warned us that his nephew was dangerous! But the daughter can be excused in light of the fact that everyone else was ridiculously nice!

Before the Chanson restaurant we took a tour of the center of the city with a guide from Paris Greeters who took us around and told us some of the history of the city and pointed out some places that were meaningful to him (such as where his son took his first steps, where his dentist is and where he lives – so now we can officially stalk him!) We actually had a great time making fun (all in jest we swear) of how French people can be arrogant and grumpy and talking about the cultural differences between our two countries and we also learned that at least one Parisian did not hate all Americans (we also clarified that many Americans really do love the French!)

Lest someone be concerned with my love of all things Paris this week, the urine stench is still present in the metro, I would still like to put in my complaint that it is not a good place for making out, though every single couple still feels the need to do so (or if not there, then at the table next to ours at breakfast, lunch or dinner), but all this aside, Paris, je t’aime.