Paris - city of love.. And baguettes

I apologize for the much delayed posting of J&M adventures, Paris edition. It has been a whirlwind of events since we've been back in Golfe Juan, but alas here it is. It's a long one so sit back, put your feet up (well, maybe you shouldn't seeing as most of you are reading this at work - SLACKERS!) and enjoy.

Paris. By far is my most favorite city! I know I have said that repeatedly about every new place I have visited but honestly, I don't know how any other place can compare. Having no clue of the itinerary or where our hotel was located (yes, I come prepared!) I was beyond ecstatic when I found out we were staying only 900 meters from the Eiffel tower. I startled, well more like scared some strangers on the streets with my wild french boar like screech as I got out of the taxi and saw the tower, right there. Again, in your face beautiful! After much reassurance from the guys that the tower would still be there after we check in and feed our growling food babies, I tore myself away from the side walk and headed into the hotel. It was pretty ghetto (well, at this point I thought it was ghetto.. Wait until later) but who cares! We were staying in downtown Paris. Our first meal in Paris was Chinese food. Correction, mediocre, or as the French would say pal mal chinese food. Being away for such a short period of time (at this point it was only day 11), it was nice to have something to remind me of home. But when you've got a mom that cooks as amazingly as Momma Quach does, nothing can really compare but it was enough to hold me over for the next 4 weeks.

As promised, we headed straight to the tower after lunch and my pulse quickened as we got closer to the tower. I would like to note that the quickened pulse may have been a result of the following:
a) my excitement
b) confused with indigestion after that greasy chinese food
c) my deathly fear of heights kicking in, or
d) all of the above.
Unlike the Vatican, we opted for the elevator ride, rather than the 1752 hike up to the top - a little ambitious on a 34 degree day while rocking black tights. The elevator ride was just as I had imagined (I don't think nightmared is a word, but if it was that would be more accurate), 25+ people crammed into a tin can and as everyone is ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the beauty of the structure on the way up, I am having an inner mental breakdown in my mind about the doom that may ensue if one of the cables to this old landmark were to snap. After what seemed like an eternity, the doors open and a wave of relief washes over me - whew, me made it, alive.. Only to realize, PSYCHE! We are at level 1, not the top. FML. I released my death grip from the hand rail and slowly got off. The view from level 1 was beautiful and after a couple of seconds, my heart slowed to a normal pace and I was able to enjoy myself. I can happily report, the second elevator ride, this time all the way to the top, was less horrendous than the first and I was able to behave, breathe and sweat like a normal human being. After witnessing some puke worthy PDA from some teenagers, we decided it was time to say au revoir and take another two (imagine my excitement) elevator rides back to the bottom.

ML did a great job of booking our hotel as it was located in the centre of all the tourist sights within reasonable walking distance. The Arc de Triumph was the next site on our checklist. It was cool to see, especially amongst the hundreds of circling cars around it - the roundabout (traffic circle as we Canadians would call 'em) is one of the world's worst as it defies all other traffic regulations (ie, who gets the right of way) throughout the rest of France. We decided against going up the Arc, as were all tired, sweaty (myself in particular) and thirsty at this point so we searched for a cafe to sit and enjoy the fantastic city. As we're strolling down Avenue Foch (which is lined in motorcycles and bike stores), we witness the most epic hair flip of time. This guy, oh yes, I said GUY, took the definition of douche bag to the next level! Imagine if you will, the epitome of an Italian man: tight jeans, fancy croc leather shoes accompanied with a white blazer and shoulder length hair. As he is getting up from tying his shoes, he throws his head back in a Pantene Pro-V worthy fashion and even gives it a left and right shake. I stopped dead in my tracks, in this busy busy street (it was pretty much rush hour and most Parisians were leaving the office) and burst into a fit of laughter. It was one of those moments that you replay repeatedly in your mind in slow motion. I wish I had my camera out. For those skeptics out there, you can ask M yourself, this was a total drop to your knees, keel over, blogworthy moment. ML and MA would like to report that I most likely ruined this guy's day (they assuming that he was trying to impress M and I) but in contrast, he absolutely made my day! Hmm the irony!

We finished the night off with some Bordeaux and grilled chicken at Malakoff, a cute little restaurant in view of the tower. This would be the place we had many more meals as it had a great view and was right across from the hotel. Of course, the food was spectacular.

Day 2 in Paris was a Tuesday and much to our dismay, the Louvre was closed. The original plan was to see Notre Dame and the Louvre on the same day as they are within the same proximity and to limit the 45 minute walk to a one time deal rather than doing it twice. We decide that exercise in the land of baguettes was a good idea so we walk to Notre Dame not expecting it to be too far. Being unsure of its dress code (the Vatican required knees and shoulders to be covered up), we dressed appropriately only to find there is no dress code, so again, day 2, I am sweating buckets. Notre Dame was really cool to see. The stained glass was emaculate (can you tell I'm using a thesaurus??) It really upset me though when people were unable to respect the 'no talking' rule inside. I mean hushed whispers are understandable but definitely no need to use outdoor voices in such a place. It got so bad at one point that one of the priests had to use the mic and shush everyone. People are just brutal.

The night was filled with pubcrawling for the guys and a nice dinner across the towers for M and I. We then ventured to the tower at midnight to watch it glitter, only to realize we missed it by 4 minutes. To fill this void, M and I decided we would treat ourselves to some much needed sugar. She had a remarkably disappointing choco vanilla non swirl ice cream and I opted for the chocolate crepe and OMG, it was the best dessert I had in Paris. As we headed back, desserts in hand, I decided to take one last glimpse of the tower, as it was our last night staying downtown. Luckily, I did so b/c we caught the 2nd 'light show.' It, being the tower, was even more beautiful at night than in the day! Our state of awe ended as quickly as it started when random creepy dudes started approaching us not only to sell us more souvenirs but also to 'lick their ice cream cones..' If it is possible, I would say Paris was even worse than Padova for male creepiness. At least in Padova they limited it to staring; in Paris, guys honked, whispered in our ears as we tried to walk past them etc

Fast forward to day 3 - the Louvre. Having realized that most people who were at Notre Dame on day 2 would most likely be at the Louvre on day 3, we got up extra early and caught the metro to the endure the much expected line. We got the opening hours confused so we waited in line for 1.5 hours. No biggy, popped in my ears phones and listened to some tunes. While jamming with ML to some MJ, I suddenly feel a hand gripping my arm. I turn and see M, eyes glazed and gasping, pointing with her other hand. Spotted in the Louvre, a man with a Starbucks coffee! Those who know either of us know we live for Starbucks and having been two weeks without it (for me at least and for M, I think she lost track), we were dying for one. It is worthy to mention that the coffee is nothing back home. A latte here means milk and not a shot of espresso with milk.. And of course everything is miniature and nothing 'to go.' You know you have an addiction when you approach a random man in a foreign country to ask him where he purchased his coffee. Luckily, he was from some Southern US state and gave us confusion-less directions with ease. We were ecstatic! Now imagine our excitement when we walked past security at the Louvre and randomly FINDING a Starbucks. It was M who squealed like a french boar this time and not me.

As much as I love looking at art, I don't know enough to truly appreciate it. There were some incredible pieces but after the 4 hour mark, I was getting depressed. In each art classification there were at least a dozen plus paintings, statues, you name it they had it, depicting Jesus nailed to the cross and / or some people dying in a tragic / romanticized fashion. In the 18th Century Dutch, French, German collection, I counted TWO paintings that had a seemingly happy story behind it. Two - one being the one I have attached (lol I don't know what the F is going on with the purple nurple either). After a remarkably long morning and afternoon, a siesta was required. I decided against one only b/c I promised a certain uncle I would have a look for a new riding bag and figured I would not subject the others to any more additional walking. Unfortunately, no luck. Everything, as ML would put it, was drab. Jackets were all black and so were the bags. The only colorful and cool looking stuff was imported from the States. That's the thing about the fashion in Paris, everything looks different and very girly - tiered dresses, skirts, maxi dresses etc but the colors are very black, white and grey. It is very unusual to see people wearing bright colors, especially yellow or red.

The guys were leaving on day 3 so we headed back to the hotel to check out but not before stopping for my epic hot dog. This hot dog was intense! It was in a baguette, covered with cheese and resembled a pizza more than a hot dog. I saw this thing from day one and swore I would have one before we left and it was damned good! Another item to add to the list of things that I won't be able to consume when I get home, along with gelato, pizza and pastries. Now would be a good time to mention the relationship status system we discovered in France - the no frills baguette definition. Un baguette = single or a tourist couple, duex baguette = in a relationship, trois = married with a fam or some crazy infidelity happening and trois+ baguette = a hell of a good night! The most we've seen to date is quatre baguette, this dude was obviously P.I.M.P. Who needs wedding rings or FB relationship statuses when a baguette says it all?

The guys dropped us off at our hotel (if you can even call it that..) before heading to catch their flight. And honestly, I have not been scared at all during this trip, (minus the elevator ride) not even in Padova with creepy guy on bicycle, until the moment the guys taxi pulled away. We were just dropped off in THE ghetto of Paris. Our room had no air conditioning, hair dryer or an automatic locking door - see picture for reference. We stopped at a sketchy bar to grab some dinner and were greeted by some (you guessed it) creepy guys but to our relief, the owner was a super friendly lady, who we ended up doing shots with. We spent the rest of the night in the hotel to avoid any additional sketchiness.

Day 4 was probably the most dramatic yet most fun day I have had to date on this trip. M and I had a half day to shop before we caught our flight back to Nice. With the assistance of our incredibly helpful front desk agent, we were able to locate a bus stop and a shopping district. We navigated to our destination with ease and found some awesome deals and not to mention another Starbucks! The day was going wonderfully, except neither of us knew the exact time of our flight. We vaguely remembered it was around 5:30 so we ensured we would have enough time to travel back to the hotel, say bye to our awesome bartender and catch a taxi to the airport. We did factor in some travel time back to the hotel before our departure and good thing we did b/c lone behold, we get lost trying to get back. Speaking minimal french, you can imagine how everything panned out - stressed but trying to remain calm and positive, we were able to find our way back to the right metro station but had no clue which bus to take back. Now most of you are probably thinking, well duh, take the same bus you did to get there; that was our mindset as well, except that the ppl at the info desk told us otherwise.. Luckily a lady in red came to our rescue! Speaking pretty much no english, she walked us to the right bus stop (causing her to miss her own bus) and found someone who could speak well enough to translate. Whoever said Paris was full of snobs must have obviously been giving off some kind of snob vibe themselves b/c the experience we had with almost all Parisians was awesome. Granted, with every country there are jerks I can happily say, we encountered no more than one or two.

Relieved and on our way to the airport, we recount our ridiculous day. Unknowingly that the adventure would only continue.. We arrived at the airport to a line of at least 75 ppl checking in. By this time it was 4:20 and our stress levels were rising as we thought our flight was at 5:30. M decided to confirm our time at the information desk, whereas I moved from the regular line to speedy boarding. The events to follow were a whirlwind of commotion. I turn to check on Megs, only to witness the most frightened face of time - our flight was at 5:00 PM! I can't remember how many lines we budged or how many ppl we angered, all I could think of was getting to that gate! We check in with literally one minute before they weren't allowing anymore passengers, only to discover yet another incredible line at security. I, being incredibly stressed at this point and it being 4:30 (and our boarding time was 4:40) said screw this and hopped yet another line. After the drama of security check, M and I sprinted to our terminal. Not even a word of exaggeration, I was on full sprint in flip flops and a dress. Yet another moment I wish I could have caught on camera b/c apparently from behind (M had shin splints so was running behind me but it didn't matter so long as one of us got to the terminal to hold the flight) I had apparently mooned not only Megs but the entire population at Terminal B during my sprint. Lol, I can only imagine what ppl were thinking as two girls flew past them, bum showing and all! Needless to say, we got on the flight and got back to Nice in one piece. Never a dull moment for M and I!

To conclude this post, I would like to leave you a list of all the things I consumed in view of the Eiffel tower as the group will attest, I tried my best to have an amazing view during any meal and what is more amazing than the tower itself?

1. Grilled chicken with beans and fries
2. Raspberry vanilla swirl ice cream cone
3. A croissant
4. A banana
5. The epic hot dog (I actually waited until the tower was in view to eat this thing)
6. Bordeaux and some cheapy white wines
7. A chef salad
8. A baguette with cheese
9. Apple cider which is much like grasshopper beer back home
10. A chocolate crepe



I hope everything is having a great time back home - yeehaw, it's Stampede season! Really sad that I am not there for my annual corndog, mini donut and caramel apple with peanuts feast. I'm hoping someone eats all those things for me!

Off to Milan tomorrow. The remainder of the trip is going to be hectic - that's even an understatement - of flights and train rides. As per usual, life is full of surprises!

Hope you were able to stay awake and enjoyed this crazily long post. Au revoir mon amis!

J



La Seine river - only river that runs throughout Paris


Eiffel tower - pls note the wicked rainbow


Werd


At the very top of the Eiffel tower


Notre Dame


Center of France - point of measure for all things in France


My new ride


Being our silly selves at the Louvre


Mona Lisa


Venus de Milo


Lunching in Paris


One of the many Patisseries; just about one on every corner!


Municipal building


The essentials for a flight. Vodka - highly recommended when flying through a thunderstorm!


MA enjoying his pizza on his last night of vacay


Pizza on MA's last night


Anglais de Promenade in Nice