Paris – Part One

One of the best things about living where we do is the relative ease of traveling to so many different countries, and at relatively low cost. Not wanting to waste any opportunities, we made a dash for Paris over the Christmas break. Myra gets to go on a field trip with school to Italy for a week (the flight costing a whopping 60 pounds return), and I get to head back to France in June. More on that later.

Our first trip abroad – I guess it’s our second, technically – was a great experience. We had five days to spend in Paris, check out a few museums, some of the usual sites, and to just relax and enjoy our first Christmas away from home.

Much of England was hidden under a dense fog for about four days before Christmas, and Heathrow was in an absolute state of chaos with flights being severely late or cancelled because of it. We were to leave out of Luton, luckily, where everything was running on time, even if you still couldn’t see the planes on the runway 30 yards in front of you. However they did it, we arrived in Paris without fuss – more accurately, not enough fuss actually. The lady at the security gate let us walk right in after she realized that we didn’t speak enough French (she didn’t speak a word of English, which is a little strange for an international airport), and just waved us through without looking at our passports or anything. We caught the train to central Paris, hopped on the Metro (which is far better than the Underground) and found our little hotel.

Little indeed. There was room for our bed, and enough space around it to walk around it (just about literally), but it was clean and we had our own bathroom, so it did the job. The guy running the place, Bryce, and his Dad, we presume, were very charming, and spoke enough English to be very helpful with suggestions. The hotel was on a quiet little side street with a Laundromat, convenience store, deli, and apartments – nothing glamorous, but perfect for getting to know the real Paris. We dumped our luggage in our room and went out in search of food, and found, right across the street, a quiet little non-descript restaurant (one of the few not called “La Brasserie”). This was the moment that we fully realized how little French we spoke.



We were greeted by a very kind looking, middle aged, timid Chinese man, dressed in kitchen clothes. It turned out that he cooks the food, serves the food, and does everything else that needs doing himself. Impressive, but we weren’t too sure about the place. An older French couple was in the corner, a younger Chinese couple speaking Mandarin in the other, it was pretty quiet, and I was on the verge of leaving. We were stuck when he brought us the menu, which was a large chalkboard hanging up outside, and placed it on a chair beside our table. Of the entire menu, we recognized the words fish and vegetables, and when it was revealed that he spoke as much English as we did French, it started to look like we might have to pick at random. The French couple beside us had pity and came to the rescue. I felt like such a tourist.

We were brought what turned out to be the best food I can remember eating - ever. A lobster crème brulee to start, followed by the finest steak, tuna with pesto, grilled veggies and potatoes you can imagine, and chocolate lava cake to finish. Words cannot describe this meal.

Day two was taken up with shopping for our last Christmas gifts while the stores were still open before Christmas Eve. We wandered over to St. Sulpice and found an open market in its courtyard. One of the stalls had for sale exotic bugs from the darkest, deepest corners of Africa, Brazil, Belize and other such places ranging in size from little beetles, to things the size of lobsters (dead, and in plastic cases). Were they a little less expensive, Brian, you would have had one for Christmas. There were hundreds, and I could have stared at them for hours. Who knew.



We wandered down Saint Germaine, the street you go down if you want to do some serious shopping, and down through the surrounding side streets. The stores there are all filled to the brim with stuff. I was wearing a back-pack (rucksack, if your English) most of the time and I literally often had to walk backwards to get out because I couldn’t turn around. It just seems like more people are out walking around and doing stuff there. I like it.

We passed by Notre-Dame and stood in awe for a few minutes, and moved on to the shops just north of the island, as we were on a mission. We were looking for some Tour De France gear for a friend of ours (without luck – sorry Sheldon, we think you’ll put what we did find to good use, though) and were pointed towards the Forum Des Halles. This mall goes four stories below Paris, and seems to go on forever. Just massive. It’s not quite as ridiculous as West Edmonton Mall, but scores points for going down instead of up. When we emerged, the sun had set, so we set off in search of a warm place and some food, stopping again at Notre-Dame on the way. It’s quite something. Mostly though, it was warm.

(This is looking south-west from above the Forum Des Halles, and no, it's not Notre-Dame, it's just another gigantic church in Paris - St-Eusache)



We knew it was supposed to be a couple of degrees cooler in France than here, but we figured that it would feel similar, being less humid, and dressed accordingly. As a result, we were cold the entire time. Oh well. Lesson learned.

Notre-Dame. Sometimes when something is really, really big, it doesn’t matter if it isn't anything special, it’s still pretty amazing. Notre-Dame is both really, really big, and it’s also really, really amazing in it’s detail and design. It’s worth taking a look at.



The next day was a good one. We set out for the Muse D'Orsay, and spent a good portion of our day there. The highlight for me, I have to say, was Van Gogh. Typical, I know, but it really is unique, and popular for extremely legitimate reasons. A whole bunch of other Frenchman were there too, like Manet, Monet, Gauguin, Degas, Renoir, Matisse, Toulouse-Lautrec, and Rodin. We dashed home for dinner and then headed back out into the freezing cold to check out the Hotel des Invalids and the Eiffel Tower. From a distance, the Eiffel Tower looked smaller than I’d expected, but as you get closer you start to appreciate its scale. More importantly, we ate our first proper crapes near its base, all wrapped up in a paper bag. A little sugar for me, a little chocolate for Myra. Lovely. A little something warm for the walk home.



Stay tuned for part two.