we were in Paris.
Time is playing tricks on me again, moving forward while I blink and blink again.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
One month ago...
we were in Paris.
Time is playing tricks on me again, moving forward while I blink and blink again.
Monday, June 8, 2009
French Makes Me Nervous
Or at least it does sometimes. It is frustrating not being fluent in a language. I am proud of the French I know, as well as the bits of Italian and deeply buried Spanish, but that is not the same as fluency.
It's not like I haven't had plenty of practice this trip. So far I have managed to negotiate getting our money back from the mousey apartment's owner (as well as the agency that booked it). I rented a new apartment. I negotiated with a French Bank to withdraw the funds needed for said new apartment. I signed a contract with our non-English speaking landlord and even joked about mice. I braved a French post office and successfully mailed special envelopes. I managed to get us help at the Apple repair shop and bought a new keyboard when the top case on Cody's computer died. I bought us food, negotiated the fresh market, read signs and learned new words.
But I always had to think first. (Cody and Jayme say I squint and look off into the distance when accessing the French dictionary in my head.) Most words don't come to me naturally for most encounters. Hello, Goodbye and Have a nice day are easy. Arranging to meet the landlord to get our deposit back and hand back the keys is not. I write notes down, prompts for the conversation, ask him to speak more slowly please and we manage.
But I would so like to do more than manage. I hate not knowing the language. Not being able to understand the tinny voice on the metro loudspeaker that apologizes that the train is late because there has been a suicide on line 8. Not being able to always tell how much something costs without looking at the receipt. Not being able to get the joke or joke back. And not being able to talk beyond the level of a preschool student.
I have taken classes. I probably should take more. I am always far rustier at the beginning of our trips to Paris. By the end I am busting out the French I do know confidently. But a small part of me is still nervous that I will order the wrong food or book us on the wrong train. Or that I won't be able to figure out an alternate way to say something because I don't know the verb or noun.
I think we would need to move here for a year. Then maybe I could attain some level of fluency. We would need to bring the cats and the hens so they would learn French too. And then they could tell us how they prefer living in Oakland, where there is room to roam and the sun shines on the hardwood floors. And I would completely understand every word they said.
It's not like I haven't had plenty of practice this trip. So far I have managed to negotiate getting our money back from the mousey apartment's owner (as well as the agency that booked it). I rented a new apartment. I negotiated with a French Bank to withdraw the funds needed for said new apartment. I signed a contract with our non-English speaking landlord and even joked about mice. I braved a French post office and successfully mailed special envelopes. I managed to get us help at the Apple repair shop and bought a new keyboard when the top case on Cody's computer died. I bought us food, negotiated the fresh market, read signs and learned new words.
But I always had to think first. (Cody and Jayme say I squint and look off into the distance when accessing the French dictionary in my head.) Most words don't come to me naturally for most encounters. Hello, Goodbye and Have a nice day are easy. Arranging to meet the landlord to get our deposit back and hand back the keys is not. I write notes down, prompts for the conversation, ask him to speak more slowly please and we manage.
But I would so like to do more than manage. I hate not knowing the language. Not being able to understand the tinny voice on the metro loudspeaker that apologizes that the train is late because there has been a suicide on line 8. Not being able to always tell how much something costs without looking at the receipt. Not being able to get the joke or joke back. And not being able to talk beyond the level of a preschool student.
I have taken classes. I probably should take more. I am always far rustier at the beginning of our trips to Paris. By the end I am busting out the French I do know confidently. But a small part of me is still nervous that I will order the wrong food or book us on the wrong train. Or that I won't be able to figure out an alternate way to say something because I don't know the verb or noun.
I think we would need to move here for a year. Then maybe I could attain some level of fluency. We would need to bring the cats and the hens so they would learn French too. And then they could tell us how they prefer living in Oakland, where there is room to roam and the sun shines on the hardwood floors. And I would completely understand every word they said.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Paris Day Something: Sunday June 7th 2009
Time Flies in Paris and Bruges and Paris Again
Ack! Somehow the Sunday before we leave Paris is upon us. I walked through Marché Richard Lenoir today, taking my now familiar circuit to my favorite vendors. 3 weeks has been just enough time for me to be recognized and to have become a regular.
"Bonjour Madame, ça va? You want some cherries. Taste these. They are the sweetest today. And these tomatoes are the best of the season so far. Hello Madame. Two crepes with butter and sugar to go? Have a lovely day."
And then, limiting my purchases to what can be consumed in 3 days, I realized that we have to leave on Wednesday. And that the next market is on Thursday and that I will be on a plane instead of negotiating for fresh produce in my mediocre (but steadily improving) French.
Time has a funny way of tricking you, especially when you are on vacation. Just two days ago we were on a crash tour of Bruges. Time seemed to stop, or at least slow way down.
Bruges is a small city, full of an overwhelming amount of beautiful things to see, and see them we did. The whole city is a Unesco World Heritage site, amazingly preserved, somehow avoiding destruction from centuries of war and is now filled with tourists by day and patient, laid back Bruggians all the time. (I think the mellowness has something to do with the copious amount of cheap and delicious beer available at all times.) We tackled the cobblestoned streets and experienced more in our short two day stay than should have been possible. Beer, chocolate, cathedrals, little boats, canals, fries, swans, holy blood, ancient hospitals, ancient breweries, more relics, statues, paintings. It seemed like we were there for a week or more, but that is tricky time for you.
The high speed train whisked us back to Paris, where we emerged from the metro into a different, but familiar world—out home away from home. The Obamas dined in an old bistro across town, while Cody and I dined on Falafels and fruit.
This afternoon, Cody and I took a long walk, from the Arena of Lutece (an ancient Roman arena, now a park in the 5th), meandering back toward the Hotel de Ville, where we watched Federer handily roll through the first set, on a giant TV set up for all of Paris to watch the French Open. It started to sprinkle so we marched through the Marais, finally ducking out of the rain at Caves St. Gilles. The Open was on tv, the sangria good and strong, the olives delicious, free and plentiful and the mood convivial. This is why I love this town.
Oh and by the way, Cody's hair is like Mary Poppins' purse.
Bon Soirée et Bisous
Ack! Somehow the Sunday before we leave Paris is upon us. I walked through Marché Richard Lenoir today, taking my now familiar circuit to my favorite vendors. 3 weeks has been just enough time for me to be recognized and to have become a regular.
"Bonjour Madame, ça va? You want some cherries. Taste these. They are the sweetest today. And these tomatoes are the best of the season so far. Hello Madame. Two crepes with butter and sugar to go? Have a lovely day."
And then, limiting my purchases to what can be consumed in 3 days, I realized that we have to leave on Wednesday. And that the next market is on Thursday and that I will be on a plane instead of negotiating for fresh produce in my mediocre (but steadily improving) French.
Time has a funny way of tricking you, especially when you are on vacation. Just two days ago we were on a crash tour of Bruges. Time seemed to stop, or at least slow way down.
Bruges is a small city, full of an overwhelming amount of beautiful things to see, and see them we did. The whole city is a Unesco World Heritage site, amazingly preserved, somehow avoiding destruction from centuries of war and is now filled with tourists by day and patient, laid back Bruggians all the time. (I think the mellowness has something to do with the copious amount of cheap and delicious beer available at all times.) We tackled the cobblestoned streets and experienced more in our short two day stay than should have been possible. Beer, chocolate, cathedrals, little boats, canals, fries, swans, holy blood, ancient hospitals, ancient breweries, more relics, statues, paintings. It seemed like we were there for a week or more, but that is tricky time for you.
The high speed train whisked us back to Paris, where we emerged from the metro into a different, but familiar world—out home away from home. The Obamas dined in an old bistro across town, while Cody and I dined on Falafels and fruit.
This afternoon, Cody and I took a long walk, from the Arena of Lutece (an ancient Roman arena, now a park in the 5th), meandering back toward the Hotel de Ville, where we watched Federer handily roll through the first set, on a giant TV set up for all of Paris to watch the French Open. It started to sprinkle so we marched through the Marais, finally ducking out of the rain at Caves St. Gilles. The Open was on tv, the sangria good and strong, the olives delicious, free and plentiful and the mood convivial. This is why I love this town.
Oh and by the way, Cody's hair is like Mary Poppins' purse.
Bon Soirée et Bisous
Monday, June 1, 2009
Paris Day 14: June 1st, 2009
Dix bouteilles de vin + huit heures + nous amies en Paris+ beaucoup de SUPER cuisine a La Table d'Orphee = un jour supreme.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Cody Joins the Blogosphere. Time Stops. Volcanoes Pause.
I am suspicious of all things bloggy, zine-y or artist-centric. Sue me. The artist is the last person I trust, and daggummit, you should give anyone sporting a paintbrush a wide goddamn berth. They don't know nothing, least ways about their own. (Maureen has been watching the so-bad-it's-actually-bad True Blood during our evening downtimes and I think the patois is rubbing off.) My scribblings in Paris have been largely very narrowly targeted (JeffG I'm looking at you) and would bore the tar out of most of you. (My sweet, sweet grandmother used to say "the tar out of..." and only as of late did I realize how utterly vulgar that phrase is.)
Got to go to the French Open. Real highlight. I've always wanted to attend a major, and I actually got to sit Centre Court and watch Sharapova play coy with some poor girl from Kazakhstan (Shvedova).
My goal: less tightly wound. I present a quick sketch of a poem.
(Also: See the following for one of most flattering things to ever happen to moi. Click all four links. Superb.)
http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hD3XOJXI8W8
http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6QQQBkAF4o
http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIg3mB9-s7I
http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fXwCa1jUPJ4
Sketches
Primeur du Marais
(Early product of the marsh)
These are awkward moments, the price not lust
but watching the waiter go straight from serving
your beer to getting into the back seat of a car
with dark windows. Is he coming back?
You're most likely on your own.
That's how it is.
No obscure painting will illuminate this scene.
No museum you've ever been to whose
name changes with the currents of arte du monde.
This century has started three times now,
paused at least once, can't figure out
its August from its ass, but what are we going to do?
The fabric hasn't shrunk so much as the threads
have a new relationship to the shirt you used to wear.
I'm pretty sure that's not where our camera points
but where it comes from. We're not the window
anymore when we jump, we're out of the fucking picture.
The garden below
turns out to be a box of artichokes
and we're lucky to land in the bananas.
Got to go to the French Open. Real highlight. I've always wanted to attend a major, and I actually got to sit Centre Court and watch Sharapova play coy with some poor girl from Kazakhstan (Shvedova).
My goal: less tightly wound. I present a quick sketch of a poem.
(Also: See the following for one of most flattering things to ever happen to moi. Click all four links. Superb.)
http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hD3XOJXI8W8
http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6QQQBkAF4o
http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIg3mB9-s7I
http://www.facebook.com/l/;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fXwCa1jUPJ4
Sketches
Primeur du Marais
(Early product of the marsh)
These are awkward moments, the price not lust
but watching the waiter go straight from serving
your beer to getting into the back seat of a car
with dark windows. Is he coming back?
You're most likely on your own.
That's how it is.
No obscure painting will illuminate this scene.
No museum you've ever been to whose
name changes with the currents of arte du monde.
This century has started three times now,
paused at least once, can't figure out
its August from its ass, but what are we going to do?
The fabric hasn't shrunk so much as the threads
have a new relationship to the shirt you used to wear.
I'm pretty sure that's not where our camera points
but where it comes from. We're not the window
anymore when we jump, we're out of the fucking picture.
The garden below
turns out to be a box of artichokes
and we're lucky to land in the bananas.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Paris Days 10 through 13: May 27th–May 30th
Time is a funny thing. Somehow the whole week has gone by, but each day passes wonderfully slowly and filled with new adventures. At home kin Oakland, I often blink and the next month has arrived. My weeks and months are marked mostly by work-related things—the deadlines, the paychecks, the weekly meetings. Here my days are marked by the unexpected, by walks, by discovery. Each day Cody and I head out into Paris, with a destination in mind (and sometimes with none at all), and more often than not we end up staying out all day, letting one place lead and direct us to the next.
This week was no exception. We meant to take it slow, especially earlier in the week after the tattoo (since that is a energy zapping experience), but of course we ended up here, there are everywhere. And that was ok.
Here are some of the things we did this week, in no particular order:
• Visited the 20th arrondissement and said hello to some of our hold haunts.
• Visited a Picard for the first time, and marveled and the white, frozen aisles, filled with ready to heat food.
• Scoured the stamp and ephemera market for treaures.
• Visited the Petit Palais and spent some time with the works of William Blake.
• Visited the Grand Palais and spent some time with some good and some not so good modern art.
• Walked the Marais eating ice cream
• Came home thorugh Place des Vosges almost every night.
• Paid homage (and Euros) to the ateliers and magasins on rue Pont de Phillipe.
• Went out to the 16th, where Cody stayed to see a match at the French Open (and I went home and an afternoon to my self)
• Ate Croissants, Baguettes, Sandwiches, Tartes, Salades, Falafels, Pastas and more.
• Went to the Richard Lenoir fresh market and bought cherries and salted caramels.
• Walked.
During the course of wanderings, the importance of these trips become clear. I end up with markers that are from life and adventures, not just from work. The entire trip be something that I will remember fondly and forever (and when I come to Paris, I often add an actual mark to my skin as I have done this trip), not just a marker that will fade into the weeks and months of every day existence.
This week was no exception. We meant to take it slow, especially earlier in the week after the tattoo (since that is a energy zapping experience), but of course we ended up here, there are everywhere. And that was ok.
Here are some of the things we did this week, in no particular order:
• Visited the 20th arrondissement and said hello to some of our hold haunts.
• Visited a Picard for the first time, and marveled and the white, frozen aisles, filled with ready to heat food.
• Scoured the stamp and ephemera market for treaures.
• Visited the Petit Palais and spent some time with the works of William Blake.
• Visited the Grand Palais and spent some time with some good and some not so good modern art.
• Walked the Marais eating ice cream
• Came home thorugh Place des Vosges almost every night.
• Paid homage (and Euros) to the ateliers and magasins on rue Pont de Phillipe.
• Went out to the 16th, where Cody stayed to see a match at the French Open (and I went home and an afternoon to my self)
• Ate Croissants, Baguettes, Sandwiches, Tartes, Salades, Falafels, Pastas and more.
• Went to the Richard Lenoir fresh market and bought cherries and salted caramels.
• Walked.
During the course of wanderings, the importance of these trips become clear. I end up with markers that are from life and adventures, not just from work. The entire trip be something that I will remember fondly and forever (and when I come to Paris, I often add an actual mark to my skin as I have done this trip), not just a marker that will fade into the weeks and months of every day existence.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Paris Day 8: Monday May 25, 2009
Montmarte, Mel and More
Cody and I woke up feeling so much better, having managed to sleep off the sleeping sickness. The day was hot and humid. We stuck to the shadowed sides of the street as we made our may to Epiciere Fine, an organic Italian Deli, for a delicious lunch with Flo and Jacky. We shared a lovely bottle of cold, white wine and enjoyed a delicious mushroom and pea lasagne.
Our friends walked us up to the metro stop by Pere Lachaise and we headed over to a store in Montmarte called Tombées du Camion (literally things fallen off a truck) that we had read about in the Paris Made by Hand book (thanks Carolee). Heaven! This store is filled with old French dead stock, and old type, ancient labels and all sorts of other deliciousness. I was lost in all the wonder and treasures (and managing to build up a nice little pile of goods). The proprietress and I had a nice chat (again, the French comes when I need it) and she told me about another wonderful, magical place at the Flea Market that I should visit while we are here. I was so engrossed I didn't even notice that the actress who plays Mel in Flight of the Concords and Daily Show correspondent (Kristen Schall) had come in behind me. It wasn't until I was outside, goods in tow, that Cody slyly pointed her out to me. How random is that?
The day was just getting hotter so we headed down into the Cemetery in Montmarte, which we had never seen before. It was shaded and lovely, filled with loud ravens and thousands of little green bugs. We found Truffaut and said hello (Cody braving the roped off area to do so), searched for Ampere (never found him) and rested in the shade. The heat was unreal and oppressive so we headed to a cafe for a cool drink and rest before going back to the apartment.
Walking back from the Metro we stopped at 111 Blvd. Beaumarchais and ogled the high priced, fait au main goods staged so beautifully in this elegant store. Some budgies sang in the background and the used books in the front were a draw, but we decided to head home and wait out the afternoon heat with only a tiny purchase to add to our bag of treasures.
The evening brought very little relief, but cold showers certainly helped. We walked into the Marais for dinner, and it was like we were in an actual marais, swimming through the thick, hot night air. We decided to try La Victoire de Supreme Coeur, a slightly culty, albiet delicious vegetarian restaurant More cold wine and cold salads and a walk back home with a stop at a gelateria for a cold cone.
We made it home just in time. We saw the lightening before we heard any thunder, but within 20 minutes, I actually saw the weather break with a snap, a bolt and hard, cool rain. Sleeping came easy.
Cody and I woke up feeling so much better, having managed to sleep off the sleeping sickness. The day was hot and humid. We stuck to the shadowed sides of the street as we made our may to Epiciere Fine, an organic Italian Deli, for a delicious lunch with Flo and Jacky. We shared a lovely bottle of cold, white wine and enjoyed a delicious mushroom and pea lasagne.
Our friends walked us up to the metro stop by Pere Lachaise and we headed over to a store in Montmarte called Tombées du Camion (literally things fallen off a truck) that we had read about in the Paris Made by Hand book (thanks Carolee). Heaven! This store is filled with old French dead stock, and old type, ancient labels and all sorts of other deliciousness. I was lost in all the wonder and treasures (and managing to build up a nice little pile of goods). The proprietress and I had a nice chat (again, the French comes when I need it) and she told me about another wonderful, magical place at the Flea Market that I should visit while we are here. I was so engrossed I didn't even notice that the actress who plays Mel in Flight of the Concords and Daily Show correspondent (Kristen Schall) had come in behind me. It wasn't until I was outside, goods in tow, that Cody slyly pointed her out to me. How random is that?
The day was just getting hotter so we headed down into the Cemetery in Montmarte, which we had never seen before. It was shaded and lovely, filled with loud ravens and thousands of little green bugs. We found Truffaut and said hello (Cody braving the roped off area to do so), searched for Ampere (never found him) and rested in the shade. The heat was unreal and oppressive so we headed to a cafe for a cool drink and rest before going back to the apartment.
Walking back from the Metro we stopped at 111 Blvd. Beaumarchais and ogled the high priced, fait au main goods staged so beautifully in this elegant store. Some budgies sang in the background and the used books in the front were a draw, but we decided to head home and wait out the afternoon heat with only a tiny purchase to add to our bag of treasures.
The evening brought very little relief, but cold showers certainly helped. We walked into the Marais for dinner, and it was like we were in an actual marais, swimming through the thick, hot night air. We decided to try La Victoire de Supreme Coeur, a slightly culty, albiet delicious vegetarian restaurant More cold wine and cold salads and a walk back home with a stop at a gelateria for a cold cone.
We made it home just in time. We saw the lightening before we heard any thunder, but within 20 minutes, I actually saw the weather break with a snap, a bolt and hard, cool rain. Sleeping came easy.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Paris Days 5 through 7: May 22nd—May 24th, 2009
The Nourallah's Last Day, The Sleeping Sickness and Mercury in Retrograde.
We awoke Friday to no hot water (see previous post on my decision to shut off that circuit). Whoops! We have since learned that the buzzing is in fact the timer that heats the electric water heater each night and have learned to leave that switch alone.
Cody, in the mean time, had come down with Salim's strange 3 day sickness and was none to happy about not being able to take a hot shower. I was annoyed, but decided to make do by heating up the tea kettle and a big pot of water, both of which I hauled to the bathroom and proceeded to take a sort of sauna/sponge bath. Old school but effective. I called over to Chez Jayme and company and they kindly offered their shower to Cody, who had fallen back asleep and was not to be budged. We decided it was best to have Cody stay at home and sleep and shower later in the day, since that is what he was doing anyhow.
I headed out across the Marais to meet the gang at the Musée de la Poupée. Along the way I heard my name being called and saw our friends Jacky and Flo outside a thai place we all like. I hadn't seen them in 2 years and it felt wonderful to see them again. We chatted for a few, made plans to meet up on Saturday and I continued on to the doll museuem.
Jayme and I were not to be thwarted again. This time the doors were wide open and all the centuries-old beady eyed dolls welcomed us in all their creepy, dusty, and musty glory. I am not sure it was worth the 7 Euro entry fee, but I am glad we checked that one off the list.
We then headed out to Montmarte, which unfortunately was where everyone else was heading too, to take advantage of the outrageously beautiful spring weather. We headed up the hill to Sacre Coeur. Jayme, Gavin and I decided a ride on the carousel was just the ticket and on we clambered, spinning round to the sounds of Edith Piaf on an ancient horses and benches, while eating little chocolate cupcakes. I had a perfect moment just then and it was divine. We hung out a bit longer on the grass below the church and then headed off to Place Madeline for some fancy bathroom viewing (there is the most beautiful public restrooms here) and some fancy mustard at the Maille shop. I hadn't really eaten so we tried to find a café near Opera with no luck. We sat down at one, where they shoved into a musty old booth and then handed us the menu, which was super pricey (I saw a few things at over 100 Euros) and super beefy and not at all what we had in mind. We awkwardly hightailed it out of there and just decided to go the Tuileries for a while. I attempted to get a snack at the café there too, but the waitress just ignored me. Oh lo lo. But I didn't care. The day was just too nice and I was with friends I love dearly.
We finally headed back to their apartment where Cody met us, after sleeping all day, so he could take a shower. The Nourallahs packed up and then we all headed out to a neighborhood Italian place, where the food was good, but the service was terrible. The waitress screwed up our order (and everyone else's in the restaurant), but eventually we got it (mostly) sorted out. We finally got out of there and headed to the river Seine for a night boat tour on the Seine. The night cruise was fantastic, save the drunk teenager that decided to piss off a bridge on to the heads of some poor Japanese tourists. That moment was awful, but seeing the monuments lit up magically from the Seine was something special.
We sadly parted ways with our friends and collapsed into bed. Cody woke up, still very tired and a bit stuffy. He stayed in bed most of the day while I attempted to fix the laptop that had been freezing for no reason. I finally gave up and went to meet Jacky for lunch while Cody slept. We caught up over delicious hot chocolate for Jacky and a Salade Lyonnaise for me.
I headed back home and messed with the computer some more. Cody was feeling a bit better and we decided to go out for dinner. We tried a place called Café Briezh, which serves the most divine Breton style crepes and cider. Our food tasted amazing, with dessert taking the prize for best salted caramel crepe ever!
We headed back home for a good nights sleep and when I woke up I was feeling tired and bit stuffy while Cody was feeling better. Never mind, I was determined to go to Marché Richar LeNoir and buy fresh fruit, eggs, cheese and veggies. That we did, though they day was hot and sultry. We purchased some amazing home made brie, a whole sac au marché full of fruit and veggies and some fantastic fresh bread and chouquettes. We also went to Marché d' Aligre and then headed home.
I ended up sleeping the better part of the day upon our return and woke up just in time to go eat dinner with Flo and Jacky, who had brought 6 different kinds of goat cheese from the country to share with us. The cheese, company and wine were fine and Cody and I walked the 3 blocks home feeling fortified and that maybe the sleeping sickness had been cured with cheese and wine. I wanted to photograph our cheesy repast, but my steady little Canon decided to give up the ghost yesterday. I am so done with Mercury being in retrograde. I think it ends this week and hopefully all the communication and mechanical breakdowns will cease.
But we are in Paris, so all of these little annoyances matter little in this wonderfully, magical city, that I am so privileged to visit with my true love and partner in life as often as we do.
We awoke Friday to no hot water (see previous post on my decision to shut off that circuit). Whoops! We have since learned that the buzzing is in fact the timer that heats the electric water heater each night and have learned to leave that switch alone.
Cody, in the mean time, had come down with Salim's strange 3 day sickness and was none to happy about not being able to take a hot shower. I was annoyed, but decided to make do by heating up the tea kettle and a big pot of water, both of which I hauled to the bathroom and proceeded to take a sort of sauna/sponge bath. Old school but effective. I called over to Chez Jayme and company and they kindly offered their shower to Cody, who had fallen back asleep and was not to be budged. We decided it was best to have Cody stay at home and sleep and shower later in the day, since that is what he was doing anyhow.
I headed out across the Marais to meet the gang at the Musée de la Poupée. Along the way I heard my name being called and saw our friends Jacky and Flo outside a thai place we all like. I hadn't seen them in 2 years and it felt wonderful to see them again. We chatted for a few, made plans to meet up on Saturday and I continued on to the doll museuem.
Jayme and I were not to be thwarted again. This time the doors were wide open and all the centuries-old beady eyed dolls welcomed us in all their creepy, dusty, and musty glory. I am not sure it was worth the 7 Euro entry fee, but I am glad we checked that one off the list.
We then headed out to Montmarte, which unfortunately was where everyone else was heading too, to take advantage of the outrageously beautiful spring weather. We headed up the hill to Sacre Coeur. Jayme, Gavin and I decided a ride on the carousel was just the ticket and on we clambered, spinning round to the sounds of Edith Piaf on an ancient horses and benches, while eating little chocolate cupcakes. I had a perfect moment just then and it was divine. We hung out a bit longer on the grass below the church and then headed off to Place Madeline for some fancy bathroom viewing (there is the most beautiful public restrooms here) and some fancy mustard at the Maille shop. I hadn't really eaten so we tried to find a café near Opera with no luck. We sat down at one, where they shoved into a musty old booth and then handed us the menu, which was super pricey (I saw a few things at over 100 Euros) and super beefy and not at all what we had in mind. We awkwardly hightailed it out of there and just decided to go the Tuileries for a while. I attempted to get a snack at the café there too, but the waitress just ignored me. Oh lo lo. But I didn't care. The day was just too nice and I was with friends I love dearly.
We finally headed back to their apartment where Cody met us, after sleeping all day, so he could take a shower. The Nourallahs packed up and then we all headed out to a neighborhood Italian place, where the food was good, but the service was terrible. The waitress screwed up our order (and everyone else's in the restaurant), but eventually we got it (mostly) sorted out. We finally got out of there and headed to the river Seine for a night boat tour on the Seine. The night cruise was fantastic, save the drunk teenager that decided to piss off a bridge on to the heads of some poor Japanese tourists. That moment was awful, but seeing the monuments lit up magically from the Seine was something special.
We sadly parted ways with our friends and collapsed into bed. Cody woke up, still very tired and a bit stuffy. He stayed in bed most of the day while I attempted to fix the laptop that had been freezing for no reason. I finally gave up and went to meet Jacky for lunch while Cody slept. We caught up over delicious hot chocolate for Jacky and a Salade Lyonnaise for me.
I headed back home and messed with the computer some more. Cody was feeling a bit better and we decided to go out for dinner. We tried a place called Café Briezh, which serves the most divine Breton style crepes and cider. Our food tasted amazing, with dessert taking the prize for best salted caramel crepe ever!
We headed back home for a good nights sleep and when I woke up I was feeling tired and bit stuffy while Cody was feeling better. Never mind, I was determined to go to Marché Richar LeNoir and buy fresh fruit, eggs, cheese and veggies. That we did, though they day was hot and sultry. We purchased some amazing home made brie, a whole sac au marché full of fruit and veggies and some fantastic fresh bread and chouquettes. We also went to Marché d' Aligre and then headed home.
I ended up sleeping the better part of the day upon our return and woke up just in time to go eat dinner with Flo and Jacky, who had brought 6 different kinds of goat cheese from the country to share with us. The cheese, company and wine were fine and Cody and I walked the 3 blocks home feeling fortified and that maybe the sleeping sickness had been cured with cheese and wine. I wanted to photograph our cheesy repast, but my steady little Canon decided to give up the ghost yesterday. I am so done with Mercury being in retrograde. I think it ends this week and hopefully all the communication and mechanical breakdowns will cease.
But we are in Paris, so all of these little annoyances matter little in this wonderfully, magical city, that I am so privileged to visit with my true love and partner in life as often as we do.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Paris Day 4: May 21st, 2009
Electricity was in the air, or so it sounded, when we awoke to a buzzing sound coming from the hallway at 4 AM. The fuse box was humming and they only way to make it stop was to flip the switch above the drawing that looked like a big battery and go back to sleep. In the morning nothing seemed to be off or affected by the switch being off, so off it stayed. Later in the day, I bravely and flipped it back on and it was silent. All seemed well, but as we learned the next day, after the same thing happened, we realized that the giant battery was ACTUALLY the hot water heater and that the buzzing was the thing being heated up at night. We found that out the hard way on Day 5 when there was no hot water for showers. But that is skipping ahead, because the rest of the day was still to come.
Today Jayme and I had our fancy girl date, while Cody, Salim and Gavin headed off for Men's Day. Jayme and I dropped them off for a canal ride (the same one Amelie skips stones on) ride that starts at the Bastille and goes right through the middle of the city up to the Parc de la Villette. There were Star Wars and Knights planned for later in the day as well.
Once we waved goodbye, Jayme and I started our mission to eat as many treats in one day as two women (one who is nearly 6 months pregnant) could. Please behold the list we accomplished:
1. Picked up salted caramels de Breton at the fresh market
2. Had a pre-breakfast snack of hot chocolate and a tartine avec confiture et buerre at a cafe.
3. Bought macarons, tart de citron, guillamettes, and two croissants. We promptly ate our croissants.
4. Walked to la museé de la poupeé, which was supposed to be open, but some surly guy smoking cigarette couldn't be bothered to tell us why it wasn't and instead sort of motioned to sign out front (which still said open) and said it was closed.
5. Walked to L'Ecritoire, to buy some lovely envelopes and things, and it too was closed, this time for renovation. It had better be open before I leave this town in 3 weeks!
6. Walked to Shakespeare and Company so I could look up the address Pierre Hermé and Laduree.
7. Walked to Patrick Roger and bought more caramels and some chocolate.
8. Stopped at a different office supply store and bought some lovely little notebooks.
9. Walked to Pierre Hermé and bought more macrons, some nougats and some hot chocolate powder for Jayme to bring home.
10. Stopped at a café on St. Sulpice and ate chevre on toast with salad. Had some macarons as dessert.
11. Stopped at a Fancy Perfume store and bought pefume for Jayme.
12. Headed back to the Marais and visited many stores, buying many lovely trinkets along the way.
13. Met back up with the boys and headed back to our apartment to have a lovely pasta dinner with wine and breasd and more treats for dessert.
14. Collapsed into bed, full, tired and happy.
Today Jayme and I had our fancy girl date, while Cody, Salim and Gavin headed off for Men's Day. Jayme and I dropped them off for a canal ride (the same one Amelie skips stones on) ride that starts at the Bastille and goes right through the middle of the city up to the Parc de la Villette. There were Star Wars and Knights planned for later in the day as well.
Once we waved goodbye, Jayme and I started our mission to eat as many treats in one day as two women (one who is nearly 6 months pregnant) could. Please behold the list we accomplished:
1. Picked up salted caramels de Breton at the fresh market
2. Had a pre-breakfast snack of hot chocolate and a tartine avec confiture et buerre at a cafe.
3. Bought macarons, tart de citron, guillamettes, and two croissants. We promptly ate our croissants.
4. Walked to la museé de la poupeé, which was supposed to be open, but some surly guy smoking cigarette couldn't be bothered to tell us why it wasn't and instead sort of motioned to sign out front (which still said open) and said it was closed.
5. Walked to L'Ecritoire, to buy some lovely envelopes and things, and it too was closed, this time for renovation. It had better be open before I leave this town in 3 weeks!
6. Walked to Shakespeare and Company so I could look up the address Pierre Hermé and Laduree.
7. Walked to Patrick Roger and bought more caramels and some chocolate.
8. Stopped at a different office supply store and bought some lovely little notebooks.
9. Walked to Pierre Hermé and bought more macrons, some nougats and some hot chocolate powder for Jayme to bring home.
10. Stopped at a café on St. Sulpice and ate chevre on toast with salad. Had some macarons as dessert.
11. Stopped at a Fancy Perfume store and bought pefume for Jayme.
12. Headed back to the Marais and visited many stores, buying many lovely trinkets along the way.
13. Met back up with the boys and headed back to our apartment to have a lovely pasta dinner with wine and breasd and more treats for dessert.
14. Collapsed into bed, full, tired and happy.
Paris Day 3: May 20th, 2009
Day 3 in some ways was Day 1. We got up and met up with J, S and G for a trip up to Pere Lachaise. None of them had it seen it before and it is truly an impressive graveyard filled with cool and creepy monuments and memorials, as well as old friends that are always a pleasure to visit. Having spent our first extended Paris trip in an apartment in the 20th, we knew to take the metro to the top of the hill and work our way down the cemetery, rather than hoof it up the hill like everyone else. The day was perfect with our background of outrageously blue skies, a light breeze and trees overburdened with new spring leaves. We visited Oscar Wilde first, and Edith Piaf next. I left them each some metro tickets and we headed down the hill into the older part of the cemetery (this is my favorite part) and eventually into the urine and graffiti ridden section that contains Jim Morrison. I hung back so J and S could see him, but then Jayme pointed out that someone had written "People are Strange" on the grave and signed it MCF, so I had to take a pic and said hello while doing so. We all then took the metro to Arts et Metiers for a late lunch and parted ways at our hotel.
We collected our luggage, called a cab and headed to the new apartment to meet our landlord. The agency had warned me that he spoke no English, so I had been mentally practicing all the things I might need to say (and a few others) all morning. I was nervous about being able to communicate clearly and not sound like a moron. We arrived almost at the same time Mr. Hannemian's friend Jo showed up He had called her to help with the conversation since she is in fact is a French tutor to American students. But, I didn't really need her much, except a few times where I just didn't understand the words flying quickly out of Mr. H's mouth. Cody told me Mr. H (as well as Cody) was impressed with the amount of French I spoke and it was obviously true since he didn't slow down for my sake. Jo stepped in a few times, but otherwise we did the whole tour and transaction in French. I was even able to banter with Mr. H about the mice he was teasing me about, claiming there were some in the ktichen and winking the whole time. Formidable, non?!
After Mr. H and Jo left, we parted and the stress just melted away. For this first time snce we got off the plane, I relaxed. I really almost collapsed. My whole body just went limp. The apartment is gorgeous and even has a lift. We didn't have to drag our suticases up 3 flights of narrow circular stairs. I think I would have been even more of a tightly wound mess if the Nourallahs hadn't been here to distract us. We met up with them at Mai Thai for some dinner (sadly in the basement dining area), and then went back and collapsed into bed, exhausted after the roller coaster of the last few days.
We collected our luggage, called a cab and headed to the new apartment to meet our landlord. The agency had warned me that he spoke no English, so I had been mentally practicing all the things I might need to say (and a few others) all morning. I was nervous about being able to communicate clearly and not sound like a moron. We arrived almost at the same time Mr. Hannemian's friend Jo showed up He had called her to help with the conversation since she is in fact is a French tutor to American students. But, I didn't really need her much, except a few times where I just didn't understand the words flying quickly out of Mr. H's mouth. Cody told me Mr. H (as well as Cody) was impressed with the amount of French I spoke and it was obviously true since he didn't slow down for my sake. Jo stepped in a few times, but otherwise we did the whole tour and transaction in French. I was even able to banter with Mr. H about the mice he was teasing me about, claiming there were some in the ktichen and winking the whole time. Formidable, non?!
After Mr. H and Jo left, we parted and the stress just melted away. For this first time snce we got off the plane, I relaxed. I really almost collapsed. My whole body just went limp. The apartment is gorgeous and even has a lift. We didn't have to drag our suticases up 3 flights of narrow circular stairs. I think I would have been even more of a tightly wound mess if the Nourallahs hadn't been here to distract us. We met up with them at Mai Thai for some dinner (sadly in the basement dining area), and then went back and collapsed into bed, exhausted after the roller coaster of the last few days.
Paris Day 2: May 19th, 2009
Cody and I woke after a long, tired sleep. I cleaned up and waited for the phone to ring. Nothing by 9:30 AM. So I call the agency, and get nothing but a message saying that they will be open at 2 PM that day. ACK. This is not the story I got the previous night when I was assured a call first thing with new options.Who starts work at 2 PM!? Even I get moving earlier than that. Maybe it is an agency of people with DSPS (Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome).
Panic sets in. The hotel is fine but I don't want to have to spend the entire trip here. I want an apartment where we can cook, entertain, write and relax. So I start searching the internet leave message after message and hope someone will call me back. I finally happen up two seemingly open apartments that are in neighborhoods we like and both are listed by the same agency. I call and speak to Johanna, who tells me the one apartment is not available but the other may be, and that maybe, just maybe we will get lucky and find something last minute for the entire trip. She miraculously gets a hold of the owner immediately, explains our plight and he agrees to get the place cleaned and move to his other place starting the next day. We can move in at 6 PM Wednesday, with just one catch: we need to pay for the whole thing in cash.
I call the bank and thankfully they work with us to get our daily cash withdrawal limit removed. We then hightail it down to the agency to sign the contract. On the way back I go into a couple of banks and find French I didn't know I had, to get the money. They keep sending me back out to the ATM where we run into THEIR cash withdrawal limit. MERDE. Long story short, we eventually got l'argent together through lots of withdrawals at different banks and a cash advance on the credit card (which I paid right back off electronically). Finally we could start to relax.
So we did! We met up with Jayme, Salim and Gavin for lunch and headed straight for Les Philosophes, on of our favorite cafés, for tomato tarte tartin and citron pressé, followed of course by tarte tartin with creme fraiche. Gavin ate bread and drank super fancy hot chocolate, while the rest of us savored our delicious lunch. We then walked around the Marais and ended up at Hotel de Ville and BHV. (BHV is an amazing store—7 stories of anything you might want, at reasonable prices.) The guys didn't feel like shopping, so they hung out at the BHV café while Jayme and I looked for baby clothes for her daughter to be. We were far from done, so we sent the boys to hunt dinner while we gathered more goods. We met them back at J and S's apartment and cooked up a delicious pasta dinner. We shared some wine, food, love and laughter and then headed back to the hotel and went straight to sleep.
Panic sets in. The hotel is fine but I don't want to have to spend the entire trip here. I want an apartment where we can cook, entertain, write and relax. So I start searching the internet leave message after message and hope someone will call me back. I finally happen up two seemingly open apartments that are in neighborhoods we like and both are listed by the same agency. I call and speak to Johanna, who tells me the one apartment is not available but the other may be, and that maybe, just maybe we will get lucky and find something last minute for the entire trip. She miraculously gets a hold of the owner immediately, explains our plight and he agrees to get the place cleaned and move to his other place starting the next day. We can move in at 6 PM Wednesday, with just one catch: we need to pay for the whole thing in cash.
I call the bank and thankfully they work with us to get our daily cash withdrawal limit removed. We then hightail it down to the agency to sign the contract. On the way back I go into a couple of banks and find French I didn't know I had, to get the money. They keep sending me back out to the ATM where we run into THEIR cash withdrawal limit. MERDE. Long story short, we eventually got l'argent together through lots of withdrawals at different banks and a cash advance on the credit card (which I paid right back off electronically). Finally we could start to relax.
So we did! We met up with Jayme, Salim and Gavin for lunch and headed straight for Les Philosophes, on of our favorite cafés, for tomato tarte tartin and citron pressé, followed of course by tarte tartin with creme fraiche. Gavin ate bread and drank super fancy hot chocolate, while the rest of us savored our delicious lunch. We then walked around the Marais and ended up at Hotel de Ville and BHV. (BHV is an amazing store—7 stories of anything you might want, at reasonable prices.) The guys didn't feel like shopping, so they hung out at the BHV café while Jayme and I looked for baby clothes for her daughter to be. We were far from done, so we sent the boys to hunt dinner while we gathered more goods. We met them back at J and S's apartment and cooked up a delicious pasta dinner. We shared some wine, food, love and laughter and then headed back to the hotel and went straight to sleep.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Paris Day 1: May 18th, 2009
Zut Alors! Cody and I are here in France, in one piece having a much more adventurous time than previous trips. Adventurous is the word I am choosing to use since really the first part of the trip has been a mix of extreme challenge, panic and worry.
Let me start at the beginning, which was a great start. Marie dropped us off at the airport and we proceeded to the Virgin Upper Class lounge at SFO where we awaited our flight, sipping our complimentary drinks and nibbling at the free food. It was lovely, as was the the Upper Class cabin with giant seat that convert to lay flat beds, hot towels, champagne, good food and service. (It will be hard to go back to coach.) After landing at Heathrow, we collected our luggage and showered at the Revitilization Lounge and took a light lunch. It was all so lovely and civilized. So far so good (great actually).
Then a cab to St. Pancras to collect our Tickets for the Eurostar to Paris. Not thinking about the fact that our credit cards had been reissued due to a security problem at the bank, the clerk wasn't going to give us our tickets since you must have the same card you booked with to collect them. ACK. I was polite and asked what could be done. She hemmed and hawed and I must have looked sad, tired and pathetic enough to take pity on and she refunded the old tickets and book us new ones on the current card. Phew! On to the train, which was luxuriously empty. We each had our own row and were preparing to nap, when a family of LOUD, British, er, em, shall we say country folk, boarded the train with like 12 kids (2 of which appeared to be slow) 6 adults and a whole lot of hustle, bustle and noise. So much for the nap. Thankfully, they exited at Lilles so we did get an hour nap until we arrived at Paris.
Relief, but it was short lived. We took a cab to our apartment in the Marais. After climbing 5 flights of stairs with all of our luggage (except my suitcase which was still downstairs) we found ourselves in a small, beat up apartment, which was far cry from the pictures posted on line. The floors wreaked of chemical lemon oil, there was filth and holes along the baseboards and dangerous, rickity stairs leading up to the loft (which was a bed less than 2 feet from the ceiling). I sat on the couch, lamenting our plight while Cody went down the 5 flights of stairs and back up again with my suitcase. I saw something out of the corner of my eye and turned to see the fattest, cheekiest mouse eating crumbs out of the kitchen and looking at me unconcerned. I got up to shoo it away, and it didn't move. Not until I was 3 feet away did it lazily scamper away. ACK! Cody, panting after the second stair climb with suitcase, came back and I shared the news. Much tired, joint, cursing ensued. I called the landlady back and then called the agency. I told them we would not be staying there and wanted our money back. No one argued. In fact, the landlady returned promptly with our deposit and helped us find a hotel. The agency promised to call back first thing in the morning with some other proposals. Cody dragged our dragging selves to thankfully close hotel and checked in.
Then back out to the Falafel stand to pick up dinner for Salim and Jayme and ourselves. We climbed the 4 flights of stairs to their apartment and hugged our friends with relief. Dinner was delicious and the wine was calming. Our troubles melted away for the next couple of hours. We watched the sun set at 10:30 and then went back to the hotel where we collapsed into glorious sleep.
Let me start at the beginning, which was a great start. Marie dropped us off at the airport and we proceeded to the Virgin Upper Class lounge at SFO where we awaited our flight, sipping our complimentary drinks and nibbling at the free food. It was lovely, as was the the Upper Class cabin with giant seat that convert to lay flat beds, hot towels, champagne, good food and service. (It will be hard to go back to coach.) After landing at Heathrow, we collected our luggage and showered at the Revitilization Lounge and took a light lunch. It was all so lovely and civilized. So far so good (great actually).
Then a cab to St. Pancras to collect our Tickets for the Eurostar to Paris. Not thinking about the fact that our credit cards had been reissued due to a security problem at the bank, the clerk wasn't going to give us our tickets since you must have the same card you booked with to collect them. ACK. I was polite and asked what could be done. She hemmed and hawed and I must have looked sad, tired and pathetic enough to take pity on and she refunded the old tickets and book us new ones on the current card. Phew! On to the train, which was luxuriously empty. We each had our own row and were preparing to nap, when a family of LOUD, British, er, em, shall we say country folk, boarded the train with like 12 kids (2 of which appeared to be slow) 6 adults and a whole lot of hustle, bustle and noise. So much for the nap. Thankfully, they exited at Lilles so we did get an hour nap until we arrived at Paris.
Relief, but it was short lived. We took a cab to our apartment in the Marais. After climbing 5 flights of stairs with all of our luggage (except my suitcase which was still downstairs) we found ourselves in a small, beat up apartment, which was far cry from the pictures posted on line. The floors wreaked of chemical lemon oil, there was filth and holes along the baseboards and dangerous, rickity stairs leading up to the loft (which was a bed less than 2 feet from the ceiling). I sat on the couch, lamenting our plight while Cody went down the 5 flights of stairs and back up again with my suitcase. I saw something out of the corner of my eye and turned to see the fattest, cheekiest mouse eating crumbs out of the kitchen and looking at me unconcerned. I got up to shoo it away, and it didn't move. Not until I was 3 feet away did it lazily scamper away. ACK! Cody, panting after the second stair climb with suitcase, came back and I shared the news. Much tired, joint, cursing ensued. I called the landlady back and then called the agency. I told them we would not be staying there and wanted our money back. No one argued. In fact, the landlady returned promptly with our deposit and helped us find a hotel. The agency promised to call back first thing in the morning with some other proposals. Cody dragged our dragging selves to thankfully close hotel and checked in.
Then back out to the Falafel stand to pick up dinner for Salim and Jayme and ourselves. We climbed the 4 flights of stairs to their apartment and hugged our friends with relief. Dinner was delicious and the wine was calming. Our troubles melted away for the next couple of hours. We watched the sun set at 10:30 and then went back to the hotel where we collapsed into glorious sleep.
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