In Paris There is a Fair for Everything

So says my friend, GH. And this week were two of the best.
First, the Salon du Chocolate.

Salon du Chocolat, a photo by portmanteaus on Flickr.

A perfect Sunday. The sun was shining. A light breeze. About 60 degrees. I only needed a sweater. I headed out. So did half of Paris, because when I arrived at the salon, I had to fight my way through the stampeded of people just to get into the official queue. And then once there, I was constantly amazed at the French talent for evading lines. I really thought I was holding my own, but then I would look ahead and see someone 30 people ahead that had just been next to me. How do they do it? Never mind though. All the pushing and shoving was worth it, because once I FINALLY had my ticket and was through the door, I entered a chcolate wonderland.

All of my favorite Parisian chocolate shops were there in one place. No reason to trapse all over the city (or the country for that matter). AND they were handing out samples like it was Christmas. I tried to pace myself so I didn't fall into a sugar coma right away.

And then today, the Salon du Livres et Papiers Ancienes. Rather than the sweet melange of sugar and cacao that is chocolate, I had to talk myself down from buying too much of the musty, dusty amazing ancient French posters and translations of Edward Gorey books and instead concentrate on old labels and postcards, which are considerably more transportable and infininently less taxing on the wallet (it's so easy to forget that the Euro is so much stronger than the dollar).

Later this week there is a Salon des Artistes Contemperain. My friends Flo and Jacky (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Amblard-Guyard-peinture-et-sculpture/193888397311917) will be showing their amazing painted sculptures. No doubt I will have stop myself from buying something there too.

Paris...October 2011...The end of one week...

...the beginning of another.

And what a week it has been. But first let's back up to January of this year. I was in Paris with the flu and pretty miserable. When we returned home, I had to dive straight into work at a level of insanity not often seen at HQ. This lasted 5 months. At the end of it I was a wreck—Exhausted from the work and still needing the vacation that I didn't really get over Christmas. That's when (with the incredibly wonderful Cody supporting a trip without him since he would be busy at Berkeley teaching) I decided to come back at the end of October. At first, I had planned on a solo vacation, but later in the summer I thought to invite Cody's mother since she has never been out of the states and has always wanted to visit Paris. And as I suspected she jumped at the chance.

Nancy and I flew together to Paris on the night of the 14th, arriving on the 15th, arriving at our rue Charlot apartment at about 1 in the afternoon. It was a very cute place, right on the edge of the upper Marais and near the Marché des Enfants Rouges. But our little nest was not meant to be ours because between the last tenant and our arrival the hot water tank decided to give up the ghost. The agency was very responsive and gave us the keys to another apartment, just overlooking the Louvre. So for 3 days, we got to shower in style, but still returned to our rue Charlot nest to sleep and relax. Then the bad news that the hot water tank would take at least a week to fix (permission from the owner, finding one, convincing the handy man to install it...) so were given the choice of 3 other places to move to. At first I was pretty upset as I had always wanted to stay on rue Charlot, but our move to Faubourg St. Martin in the 10th was ultimately a good one. For one there is hot water. Unlimited, on-demand, glorious hot water, but more importantly the move took me out of my comfort zone and has forced me to look at another part of Paris that I never would have before.

It took me a couple of days to come to this conclusion for we just wanted to be settled. And dragging suitcases up and down 3 floors of steep Parisian spiral staircases is the opposite of fun. But once I had calmed down and was able to look at the move with rested (and clean warm) eyes all was well. Besides I had to pull it together since I was partially a tour guide this week. I tired to find a nice balance (and think I achieved it) of sites and the Paris I love sprinkling little bits of time with my French friends over the top. It was amazing to see Nancy's reactions to the city, which I do think in many ways us the most beautiful city on the planet, and is certainly so very different than the very new cities of California where we are from. And to get to, just for moments, see Paris with new eyes again, was magical. To see someone stop in their tracks when coming upon the Louvre or Notre Dame reminded me of this city's stunning beauty.

When Nancy was here we were mostly in other parts of the city, but after she left, I have spent more time in my quarter. There are two stupidly good boulangeries here, one nestled on a street that has nothing else but colorful, loud and convivial French-African hair salons. But there in the middle of all the wonderful hair chaos sits refined Thonoliat, famous for its mille-feuilles, but their croissant won me over. It is SERIOUSLY the best one I have ever tasted. So much so that I ended up eating two that day. I couldn't stop myself. Maybe it is the touch of sugar they add or maybe it is fairy dust, but either way I've fallen hard (and don't even get me going on the bread and little chcolates they make).

A few streets the other way is Des Pains et Des Idees. Mother of all bread gods, this place is also amazing. They make bread unlinke any i have tasted. I giggled tonight as I was eating their Pain des Amies, slathered with butter (with sel de mer of course), biting through the perfect crust and having the crumb just melt in my mouth.

Last week and this week are two very different weeks for me since this week I am alone. Miss JH and I were briefly chatting about the differences between travelling alone and travelling with others. Both are great, but in very different ways and this trip I get to do both. How lucky I feel right now. And what a pleasure it is to be here—the rain splattering on the window ledge, Edith crooning in my ear, my legs and feet happily exhausted from all the walking.

Bon nuit.