Paris Trip Day 19

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A sandwich similar to my homemade French version.

A sandwich similar to my homemade French version.

Saturday. I went grocery shopping, and I continue to be amazed at much produce I can buy for so few euros. While I was in the kitchenette making my homemade French sandwich, I excused myself when I burped even though I was alone, because that’s what my mother taught me to do: she said someone might be in the next room, and you wouldn’t want them thinking you were unmannerly. It was so funny…a chamber maid heard me excuse myself and came in and looked around mock-suspiciously for another person, as if to say: “Are you crazy? There’s no one else here!” I had someone tell her what my mother taught me. She laughed and smiled a weary smile, as though she were saying to herself, “Vive la difference!” (long live differences).

Spontaneously dancing on the Metro with rappers was the most fun I had on this Paris trip.

Spontaneously dancing on the metro with rappers was the most fun I had on this Paris trip.

I took my sandwich and left to go roller blading. Before I got off the metro on my way there, a few guys got on blaring loud music from a boombox, and they were rapping in French. I could tell from people’s body language that a lot of people disapproved of them. The next thing I knew, they played a song that sounded like a Sly & the Family Stone song from the 1970s, and I got up and danced with them. We were gyrating (a little, in a way my mother would approve) and whooping it up. People on the metro car started to cheer us on. It felt so good to see that many people who looked uncomfortable at first got in the spirit of the moment when I joined the rappers. One handsome bystander in particular smiled at me and gave the guys money. It was the most fun I’ve had during the entire trip. The guys and I all thanked each other. I got off the train saying, “Americans can boogey!”

I looked for the place that rents roller blades but I didn’t find it; honestly, I didn’t look for long, really. I walked along the Seine River, but from where I was, I didn’t see any distinctive photo possibilities. It was a gorgeous day, mild, unlike late-fall weather at home, so I walked all day. I walked aimlessly at first until I came upon signs for St. Sulpice Church. St. Sulpice was featured in The Da Vinci Code. (!) Yes, I enjoy sites of Paris for the sites themselves, but there is an added thrill to see sites featured in movies. (I love the cinema, plays, and opera.) Though a part of me thinks the main story was sacrilegious, certain aspects of it were fact-based, and if I look at it as merely entertainment value, it was a good story. The movie certainly made me want to see St. Sulpice for myself. It was beautiful, and…how else can I describe it? Serene, elegant, classic. I didn’t feel a heaviness I often feel in such churches; instead, I felt light.

Some of the other pictures I took:

 

I had wanted to go dancing later at a nearby disco but I got an upset stomach. How (in)convenient. I organized myself into the new room with 2 roommates (sisters from Brazil). They both seem nice and easy-going.

 

Salut !

Paris Trip Day 18

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A Paris park that divides two sides of a street. Similar parks have more grass. You will often find public toilets in such parks.

A Paris park that divides two sides of a street. Similar parks have more grass. You will often find public toilets in such parks.

Friday. I took my purple coat to be dry cleaned: I had another crepe with Grand Marnier and the cook put too much filling in it. As soon as I took a bite, it went all over the front of my coat. Which means I have to have my coat dry cleaned again!

I also was told by Plug-Inn management I would have to move to another room tomorrow because a group of 5 is coming, and they want to stay together. Management isn’t sure how long they’ll be here.

I went walking and felt very feminine in my new cape. I took some pictures and simply took in my surroundings. I don’t feel the need to “do” something every moment; just being in Paris is enough.

A statue of Charles de Gaulle. Described as a "20th century John of Arc," he refused to admit defeat by the Nazis in WW II. He escaped to London after the Nazi invasion where he gave inspirational radio speeches. He later became President of France.

A statue of Charles de Gaulle. Described as a “20th century John of Arc,” he refused to admit defeat by the Nazis in WW II. He escaped to London after the Nazi invasion where he gave inspirational radio speeches. He later became President of France.

 

 

 

 

 

Salut !

 

 

 

 

 

Reference of Charles de Gaulle as a “20th century John of Arc” taken from Rick Steves’ Paris 2014 guide book, Copyright 2013, Avalon Travel, Berkeley, California, pg. 249.

Paris Trip Day 17

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Champs-Elysees at night. The Ferris Wheel at the Place de la Concorde is visible in the background.

The Champs-Elysees at night. The Ferris Wheel at the Place de la Concorde is visible in the background.

Thursday. Thanksgiving 2014. I am very grateful to be in Paris regardless, but I am also thankful to be away from all the drama in the States. Chuck Hagel was forced to resign as Defense Secretary—I wonder what that means for my situation. (He was enlisted in the U.S. Air Force, as I was.) Seems like a lot of plot points are changing – like Connie Stinson – oh, excuse me – the REVEREND DR. Connie Stinson – resigning from the D.C. Baptist Convention before she became its president. Enquiring minds want to know!

I’ve used the day so far to plan what else I will do, making sure I make the most of free/almost free things. There is a still a lot I’d like to do, but I’m being mindful of going to London for a day or two. I’m not really looking forward to it. I love being here. I love the French people and everything about their culture…I am truly in heaven. It isn’t that I haven’t had a bad or unpleasant experience here; it’s that an unpleasant experience here is easier to tolerate.

I need to see if I can print and/or redo my CV and apply to a few places, perhaps at Sephora, and of course, to teach English. I’m not going to plan my trip to London much, except for what I will say on my placard at Buckingham Palace.

Paris restaurant.

Food is to be savored in Paris.

Rick Steves says that American ex-pats in Paris during the holidays all tend to go to a shop named Thanksgiving to get cranberries and boxes of stuffing on Thanksgiving Day. (Nothing like a little solidarity on an American holiday.) I thought of going there just to be part of the excitement and to see other American ex-pats. I decided, instead, to have a Thanksgiving meal after all. I went to Le Basilic again (4th time!) and had veal with green beans in mushroom sauce, a glass of Pinot Noir, coffee and chocolate mousse. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Le Basilic should be at least a 3-star restaurant, it is soooooooooo good. And who can complain about the service? They check in with me from time to time to see if I need anything else while allowing me to enjoy the experience. As Rick Steves says, once you get a table for dinner at a restaurant in Paris, it is essentially yours for the night. Tips are included in the bill, so there’s no rushing you out the door. It also makes for more relaxed servers: they know they’re getting paid. The U.S. should adopt this philosophy with servers.

I decided to buy the cape I saw, since it has been a lifelong dream to buy a cape in Paris since I first saw one at Garfinckel’s so many years ago. I love it!!! I feel so feminine in it!! And my Cache pants fit! It was a magnificent night, probably around 57 degrees Fahrenheit. I LOVE the energy of Paris at night. People feel so alive: it’s in their faces and their body language. Many people are with their significant other. Love is in the air. The lights are beautiful. I didn’t want to go back to the hostel, I wanted to feel that energy from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and in my bones.

The energy of Paris at night.

I love the energy of Paris at night.

Finally, my bones said, “Enough already! We need some sleep!” So I took the Metro and went back to Plug-Inn Hostel. I crawled into bed with a huge smile on my face.

 

 

 

Salut!

Paris Trip Day 16

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Taking pictures in Paris.

Wednesday. I woke up feeling happy. I savored breakfast, had a shower, and simply started to walk. I walked for a mile or two taking pictures and enjoying the moment; and, once again, I followed signs and walked to Champs-Elysees, where I spent just a moment in Sephora to see how much Dior Skin costs. I found a cape I like at a nearby shop…oh my goodness…since working at Garfinckel’s (my store!), I’ve had a secret, life-long desire to buy a cape in Paris! I’ll have to think about it.

I ducked into McDonald’s to use the bathroom. Sometimes I feel a little like George Costanza, always knowing and thinking about where the public restrooms are. I was tired from walking again. I thought long and hard about whether I should buy the cape while I was on my way back to the hostel. I was too tired to exercise.

Salut.

Paris Trip Day 15

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Abbesses Metro entrance.

Abbesses Metro entrance. Most metro entrances have an awning in Art Deco style, such as this one.

Tuesday. I had a great day today. I ended up making the chamber maid happy for stripping the bed of a roommate’s who had checked out. Then I went to Grand Boulevards Metro using different Metro lines I’ve taken so far to go to Hard Rock Cafe. It was so funny, I asked the guy at the desk for directions, and he told me to go to Abbesses Metro (the other close-by metro; I’ve always taken Blanche) and then follow signs to keep walking, that I would be essentially walking to another metro station, though never leaving underground. He also said he almost hated to tell me that because he didn’t want me to get confused. I looked at the metro map, looked at him, then back at the map, and told him, “Okay, but if I don’t come back, please send a search party for me because I’m probably lost underground somewhere.” And I just started to laugh. He looked concerned, which made it all the funnier. I couldn’t get over it: I think of myself as an intrepid traveler and then I balk at walking underground for an extended time. Who am I kidding?

A stairway in the Paris Metro.

Paris Metro has many more twists and turns underground than the metro in Washington, D.C.

I found Hard Rock Café without any trouble. I couldn’t wait to have a burger lunch. I thought I might get faster service by sitting in the bar area; I was mistaken, for they messed up my order. The inside was gorgeous, and the seating beckoned patrons to sit and enjoy themselves. But as I ate my hamburger and took in the ambiance, I realized I am a lot older than I used to be. When I was younger, going to Hard Rock Café was all the rage (and getting a T-shirt with “Hard Rock Café Paris” and the like, to go with it). But I didn’t feel the same way about it: instead of hearing familiar rock and roll in the background, I heard hard rock blasting in my ears. Hard rock videos played all around the place and I found myself feeling a little out of place. Not a bad thing: it’s okay to realize I’ve changed. It just took me by surprise. I bought a T-shirt before I left since I no longer have my Hard Rock Café Paris shirt that I bought the last time I was in Paris. I also took a few pictures of the exterior.

The Hard Rock Cafe in Paris has a beautiful interior.

The Hard Rock Cafe in Paris has a beautiful interior.

From there, I just started to walk, and since I saw signs to Charles de Gaulle Etoille, a.k.a. Champs-Elysees, I kept walking. Paris during the day is beautiful, but at night, it is simply breathtaking. I ducked into the Galeries Lafayette just to window shop. The interior design of the place and the seasonal decorations were simply breathtakingly beautiful. I just stood in this massive space and took in the beauty of my surroundings. The French do everything with such style and class. Such beauty makes me glad to be alive. Do the French people know how extraordinarily beautiful their surroundings are? When you live here, do you take it for granted? I don’t think I ever would.

A Christmas decoration at the Galeries Lafayette.

A Christmas decoration at the Galeries Lafayette.

I did get a few magnets of rue signs at sidewalk kiosks. I told Nicdadya about my adventures and how gorgeous the Galeries Lafayette were. She just smiled. I’m tired from walking, and very, very happy – especially since I found my way back to the hostel without any trouble. They won’t have to send a search party for me tonight after all!

 

Salut!

 

 

 

Paris Trip Day 14

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Can be hard to wake up in Paris.

Monday. I had a tough time waking and getting up. Walking really takes a lot out of me…but it’s not like I don’t walk at home. It took me forever to get out of the hostel. I didn’t do all that much. But I did work out again. Felt good.

I am really enjoying this book on Elvis by George Klein (which I found in the hostel. Really says something about Elvis’s popularity in Europe, which many Americans forget). George was a friend of Elvis and a member of his entourage, as well as a radio personality in his own right. I’ve learned a lot about Elvis. He wasn’t as weird as I was led to believe. The media slanted stories and made him out to be odd. One example was his interest in karate. He learned karate while he was in the Army and it was merely a form of exercise he enjoyed: the media made it sound like he was obsessed with martial arts – I remember those stories well from when I was growing up. George told his story with class. One reason I studied public relations instead of journalistic reporting when I studied journalism at the University of Maryland is because I don’t have the stomach to go after people and report everything about them; I believe that every person has a right to some privacy. I also believe in the truth. If someone has done 2 wrong things, that is no reason to blame them for a third if they had nothing to do with it.

George Klein was a true friend of Elvis Presley.

Elvis will always be the king of Rock-n-roll.

There’s no class in slanting stories just to ruin someone’s reputation – or for any reason, for that matter. I have more respect for Elvis than I did prior to reading George Klein’s book. But I have even more respect for George Klein. He was a true friend to Elvis.

 

Salut.

 

 

 

 

“Elvis knew the score,” by Anonymous9000, taken on October 5, 2008, courtesy of Flickr, CCBY 2.0

Paris Trip Day 13

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The Eiffel Tower, a catalyst for joy.

The Eiffel Tower is viewed by the world-over as a symbol of France. I have come to view it as also a catalyst for joy.

Sunday. I walked along the Seine River after taking the #30 bus to Trocedero again. I soaked up the energy near the Eiffel Tower and had a take-away sandwich. I love watching people in their excitement being at the Eiffel Tower: they all have such joy on their faces. There are now large stones in front of E.T. that people can stand on and take selfies (what a word!) or regular pictures. I went to the top of the Eiffel Tower again. (!) It never gets boring. It is so awe-inspiring. The views are so gorgeous.

An aerial view of the City of Paris as seen from the Eiffel Tower.

An aerial view of the City of Paris as seen from the Eiffel Tower.

After the Eiffel Tower, I started my journey to the slip of my dinner cruise. I looked and looked and looked and didn’t see what the gentleman from Le Capitaine Fracasse spoke of, a part jutting out from the Seine River, meaning their slip. A French couple saw my distress and offered to help me find the slip. We found it in plenty of time and I waited in line. I struck up a conversation with an American couple. They were here on business and decided to take some vacation time to see Paris. One thing I’ve noticed: Paris brings out the joy in people, because the tourists I speak to all seem to be in great moods, even serene. The line started to get lonnngggggggg; glad I got there early. When I was asked where I wanted to sit I said that I wanted to sit near a window, and I was told it would be an extra 10 euros for a better view. I said no thanks, as I reflected on Rick Steves’ description of the dinner cruise in which he said to “get there early for good seating;” there was no mention of paying more for a good seat. Then I was seated by myself in full view of a rowdy party, and patrons were using my table as a shortcut to get to their table. I nearly left. After all, a dinner cruise isn’t just about the food: the atmosphere is part of what you pay for. First I moved my table next to the table next to me, and a server smiled in recognition of how I was keeping patrons from brushing past me. (Since he saw my distress, why didn’t he seat me somewhere else?) Then I asked if I could sit farther in the back since there was so much space available. (The ship was at most half-full.) I sat next to a French couple who didn’t take their eyes off of each other. I could not believe that this petite woman ate EVERYTHING presented to her, as thin as she was. She ate basically what I did: a tray of 3 appetizers, (including Foie des Grais, which I didn’t eat), fish with potatoes in a light sauce, a tray of 3 desserts, including a puff pastry that was out of this world, and wine and espresso. Culinary heaven.

A Capitaine Fracasse dinner cruise is an elegant way to experience the views along the Seine River.

A dinner cruise is an elegant way to experience the views along the Seine River.

When I disembarked and started to walk, I felt so alive! I happened to exclaim to no one in particular what a beautiful night it was. The response of a French couple who got off the same dinner cruise: “Of course, you’re in Paris!”

I got back to the hostel and found I had a new roommate. I floated off to sleep.

 

Salut.