Midnight in Paris

…is supposed to be magical.  For those of you who’ve watched the film, you’d agree with me that Woody Allen makes it out to be this mysteriously beautiful time and place.  I was 16 the last time I went to Paris, at the height of any average person’s hyper-dramatic stage.  For many of us (and don’t deny it) it’s a back-and-forth dance between desperately hopeful romanticism and bleak fatalism, bossa nova in the sun and Elliott Smith in the dark.  So yeah, being 16 in Paris (Paris in the spring no less) is nothing less than magical.

What was Paris really?  We were tired, it was raining, our joints were aching, my sister’s feet were on fire, and there were throngs of tourists everywhere, just lines and crowds everywhere.  Our schedules were packed starting from 7 AM to beat the lines as best we could and we powered through sites and museums like fruit flies with only 24 hours to live.  Nevertheless, the charm of the city of love did creep in at unexpected moments and then I could really imagine saying, oui, Paris je t'aime.

Our first day in Paris there was a summer storm squeezing us under an umbrella meant to accommodate just one normal sized human being.  Nearly all the restaurants and cafés seemed closed until we got to a corner café filled with others taking refuge from the storm.  The place smelled like a good mix of summer rain and hot coffee.

My French onion soup au gratin
Perfect for a rainy day

Cathy's hot goat cheese salad with green beans
Goat cheese on croutons fried crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside

We then walked to the Arc de Triomphe and decided to put off going to the top considering the giant line and instead elbowed our way through crowds of tourists down the Champs-Elysees.  We ducked into a Paul (French chain bakery founded in France but now international) so I could treat myself to dessert.

Arc de Triomphe

Strawberry and sweet cream cake with pistachio icing

 Exhausted from an early flight and having walked all afternoon, we decided to return to the hotel on foot.  We were on a mission to check out the Galeries Lafayette before we turned back since it was only a 10-15 minute walk from our hotel.  Unfortunately, we got lost and Cathy's feet were troubling her so it wasn't as exciting to have the colorful domed glass ceiling open up over our heads.  Nevertheless, we could check it off our list and head back.

The ceiling of the original Galeries Lafayette 

Lacking the energy to continue right away, we opted for a pit stop at a nearby bar/café so I could finally get that crepe I'd been singing about for so long.  Cathy got a martini glass full of ice cream to reboot and  once we were done we were ready to get moving again.

...to the luggage store.  I left Barcelona with just my canvas duffle after shipping the bulk of what I brought back to NY with FedEx which was about to burst and was way too heavy to carry.  In spite of our desperate need to get back and rest our feet and shower off, we went to a discount luggage store we had happened to stumble upon and spent an hour selecting the perfect one (black canvas square shape on four wheels), paying, and picking up our purchase in an interesting 3-step process.  Oh, the French.


Once we were back at the hotel, we got ready for bed and passed out without dinner to no one's surprise.    We would be starting our second day in Paris at 7 AM.


The next morning, we decided to wake up bright and early to try and beat the lines at Versailles.  The palace grounds open at 9 AM so we took a 7 something train out of Paris.  We were there in half an hour and it would take another twenty minutes or so to get to the palace.  We still had what we thought was plenty of time so we stopped in at a McDonald's that featured a mini bakery-café in the front.

Making my selection

Chocolate-filled mini-brioche

We underestimated the zeal with which many foreign tourists had come to vacation in Paris with the mission to see Versailles.  When we finally got there, there was already a giant line going around the front square.  We had bought the Paris Museum Pass the day before and we were under the impression it would help us cut lines.  This was not one of those times.  We were pushed back to the end and decided we would wait there patiently except then some guard began yelling in French and motioning people forward.  So we naturally followed the horde of people who looked just as confused as we did forming a new line at very start of the original line and then poof, we had just cut a whole load of people and we were one of the first ones in.

The chapel from the outside 

Once we were inside, given my sister's inherently impatient nature meant we were weaving through crowds trying to see as much as possible in as little time as possible.  We paused to read some blurbs but not many.  We saw the secret door in Marie Antoinette's bedroom and sauntered through the Hall of Mirrors.  We also stopped in a number of different cafés and considered buying snacks but never did.

Fascinated 

Secret picture of a little Asian girl
This photo proves how adorable she is and how creepy we are.

A view of the gardens 

Versailles!

Baller.

A tree-lined street in Versailles

We passed by a giant market once we left the palace grounds around lunch time and after much debate, decided to get our lunch to right there.

Eating chicken wings and potatoes in the train station parking lot

 If left to my own devices, I would have bought bread and fruits and enough stinky cheese to make someone pass out.  But my sister was there to hold me back so we've decided we're just going to have to make enough money to rent a house in the French countryside so I can cook to my heart's content.  I plan to build a fire pit in the back of this house and cook rotisserie chicken the old fashioned way as long as I have volunteers to manually crank the spit.


We took the same train back to Paris after being denied change from the lady running the convenience store in the station.  You need coins to buy tickets from the machine so we had to wait for someone to return to the ticket window so we could buy our tickets the old fashioned way.


Once back in Paris, our next stop of the day was the Rodin museum on the other side of town.  Rodin's house and gardens was converted into this museum and I really enjoyed how welcoming it was, like really being invited into someone's home.  That's as far as my commentary goes in fear that I'll just end up sounding like that prick Paul in "Midnight in Paris".  I don't know anything about Rodin, just that I like him as much as I can like a dead man with talent.

Pensive contemplation

The Kiss

The house-museum

You know him

Right next door was the Hotel des Invalides or Les Invalides was once a military complex including housing for wounded veterans and is now the Musée de l'Armée.  I forgot everything I learned about this monstrosity in "European Architecture to 1750".  Sorry Professor Siry, I'll have to go back to the notecards.  I just know that it's big and beautiful.

The famous chapel of the old military complex
Now the entrance to the museum

Trying to eat the model

Confusing garden art

The only untrimmed cone hedge
It seemed like a completely different type of plant than the others

 You can see the Eiffel Tower from Les Invalides so we decided to walk over.  It wasn't close but it wasn't too far and we had to go towards the river anyway so we made the trek, stopping for a snack along the way.

Waiting for our food...naturally

A couple more blocks and then *poof*...

 ...the Eiffel Tower.
I made it to the top four years ago when I was 16, walking up to the second landing to beat the lines and then riding an elevator to the tippy top.  We didn't make the trip up to the top due to the giant lines this time around but we enjoyed it from the below.  Someone recently asked me if it was overrated and my answer was no.  My suggestion: stand under it and wait for a nice strong breeze, drown out the noise of the masses and just listen for the sound of wind passing through the iron latticework.

From across the river

Having found a metro stop that went directly across the city to Pere Lachaise cemetery, we made the trip nice and easy.  My sister was less than interested but I dragged her anyway.  In cemeteries like these, I imagine that all the ghosts gather and mingle at twilight, emerging out of their graves with platters of ghost food for potlucks at different corners of the gated community.  My sister tried to insist that ghosts can't eat food but I beg to differ.  What do I have to look forward to in death if I can't eat in the afterlife?

Familie Granger
Hermione was real.  The Harry Potter series is historical fiction.

Chopin

Jim Morrison

On one of the cobble stone streets

 By the time we got back to the hotel, we had to think about dinner.  We were a combination of too lazy and too concerned about money to go out again so we headed to a corner grocery two blocks away to buy our dinner and breakfast for the morning.  Mid-shopping, a little brown boy came up to us and starting yelling in French as if someone were coming after us.  It turns out the store was closing so we just grabbed our things and ran to check-out.

Sliced turkey, swiss cheese, loaf of brioche, coconut yogurt,
apples, and panna cotta for dessert

 And then we passed out, as per usual.


We rolled out of bed the next morning and rushed to the Louvre hoping to beat the lines.  We got lost underground but eventually found the speedy line to use with our museum pass.  It moved quickly once they opened, thank goodness.  Once we were in, we were on a mega race to get to the Mona Lisa and get it over with.  As I remembered from four years ago, it was too far to scrutinize and really make up your mind for yourself.  So we saw it and now we can say "we saw the Mona Lisa".  I can say it twice, actually.  Not to be a snob or anything.

More Da Vinci

We spent the rest of the morning wandering around the museum seeing what other famous works of arts we'd bump into.  Winged Nike is the best but it was too dark to get a good photo.  You just have to meet her in person.

Venus de Milo

Napoleon's apartments
Wanted to see it 4 years ago but didn't get a chance

The largely unnoticed façade of the Louvre

Man-made riverside beach

We left the Louvre and walked across the river to the Ile de la Cité, the island on which two famous churches reside.  We skipped Saint-Chapelle feeling too impatient to wait on yet another line and went ahead to Notre Dame.  The last time I was there, I didn't feel like waiting on line and instead hugged a man wearing a prison outfit plus ball and chain holding a sign that said "Free Hugs, Getting Married Tomorrow".  I have no regrets but I did miss out back then.  It's as much of a marvel on the inside as it is on the outside.  Still, it's not my favorite church in Paris.  I'll get to that later.

The snaking line in front of the church

Nothing makes me hungrier than church.  Back in the days when I did go to church, my favorite part was the free and usually very yummy lunch.  We were going to get sandwiches to go but then I saw a lunch deal at the place next door for steak au poivre with frites AND creme brulee for dessert.  How could I resist?  It was infinitely more expensive than the cold sandwiches next door but I wasn't sorry.

With a dolop of dijon mustard  

Ate the whole thing in spite of the lack of space in my stomach

Age 16

Age 20
Same bridge 4 years later

I passed out for a couple hours upon returning.  When I woke up, there was dinner waiting for me: yogurt and taboule salad.

We spent our last night in Paris atop the Arc de Triomphe.  We finally made it.  We watched the sun set and got cranky waiting for the Eiffel Tower to light up and sparkle but I went with a mission and refused to leave till I saw it.  I also refused to let my sister leave and she hated me for it but she should be over it by now.

Champs Elysees

Warming up

10 PM
Let the sparkling begin

And then bed time.


The next morning, we got a bread basket and two soft-boiled eggs through room service and took out the rest of our groceries to finish up.  It was a most excellent farewell breakfast.

Our balcony

Our last touristy destination was Montmartre, the famed bohemian art district of Paris.  Sitting atop the hill is the Basilique du Sacré-Couer, my favorite church in Paris.  Why do I love it so much?  It's what I imagine what God's house looks like, up in the sky.  I feel like if I looked hard enough while sitting in the plane, maybe I'll catch a glimpse of it behind a big white cloud.

We walked from Montmartre to Pigalle, the dying red light district right next to Montmartre.  I think a dying red light district is sadder than a vibrant one.

We had a lunch reservation at Laduree, a Parisian institution sought out for its most perfect macarons.  But we had too much time to kill so we sat in the Madeleine, a church that looks like the Parthenon across the street from Laduree.  

Interior of the Madeleine

We eventually got too impatient and asked to move our lunch reservation up to noon.  I think the hostess, who spoke very limited English, was really confused but that's okay.  We were hungry and tired.

My dish of cod with buttered peas and fava beans with pastrami and razor clams

My happy T-Rex of a sister about to enjoy her watermelon and crab salad

Dessert: scoop of rose ice cream topped with
four macarons (orange, caramel, chocolate, vanilla) filled with their respective ice cream flavors.

Lunch was amazing.  The perfect portions, the classic atmosphere, super "bougie" as my buddy Andy might say.  On our way out, I had to take a photo of a Maille store around the corner, a French mustard institution who now makes other amazing spreads and sauces and pickles a mean jar of cornichon gherkin pickles, my favorite.  My sister surprised me the night before with a giant jar of extra grainy mustard (amazing with beef) which was way cheaper at the corner store.  We gifted it to our stepdad but we know who's enjoying it best.  Me.

We spent the next solid hour and a half back at our hotel using the ancient computer to figure out a good bus route to the train station.  We were taking the high speed Eurostar train from Paris to London and I wasn't about to drag my giant suitcase through the stair-happy catacombs of the Parisian subway system. Thankfully, we got a bus a block away that went straight to Gare du Nord (the station).  Once we were there, we snacked on the rest of our groceries and then boarded the train.  We promised ourselves R&R once we got to London and with that in mind, we rushed to our seats to begin would be the easy leg of our week-long trip.

Goodbye, France

High speed indeed

So I never got to experience midnight in Paris awake.  Am I sorry?  No, not really.  I probably would have been disappointed when I got lost in the streets of Paris and no car full of early 20th century literary giants didn't pull up to take me partying.  Probably would have been more disappointed when I got mugged instead, a much likelier situation.

Sorry this took so long to post.  I'll get London up asap.  Forgive me.