La vie est belle en Paris

I spent New Year's Even in Paris, gazing across the Seine at the Eiffel Tower as it glittered and sparkled when the clock struck midnight. Where were you? Yeah, I thought so.

Sunday the 30th I bid farewell to my parents and brother, and around the time they were flying to the U.S. I was ensconced in a seat on the Eurostar, speeding through the Chunnel towards Paris. I had bad memories of the Gare du Nord--last time I took the Eurostar I was meeting my flatmate's brother at midnight (without my flatmate, due to a ticket mixup). I had never seen him before, and missed him. Across the street in a horrid coffeshop I wrote in my journal that if worse came to worse I would spend the night on the hot air duct with the bums. Luckily, he was able to call my mobile and we connected.

And this time Sonia was there to meet me, my beautiful, pint-sized French friend I met this summer through International Illini. She and Stephan, our Swiss friend who visited in October, were both getting their Master's degrees in Materials Engineering, and we hung out a lot doing everything from going on barcrawls to going to A Taste of Chicago (Stephan's the guy and Sonia's on the far right). We'd been planning New Year's Eve in the end of the summer, so it was great to see it finally happen.

As it was the holidays and Sonia's grandparents were visiting her, we had the odd setup of having me and Stephan staying at Sonia's boyfriend Richard's place, and him staying with Sonia at her parents', as his apartment is just big enough for two people (one on the bed, one on an air mattress, in case you were wondering). It was incredibly generous of him, especially considering he'd never met either of us, and I'm sure it was highly inconvenient as well, although he never said anything. They're such an adorable couple (like all of my 'smug married' friends, right?): both goodlooking, dark-haired, dark-eyed--and Richard's 6'5 and Sonia's about 5'2! I don't know how they managed to stay together during the year-and-a-half Sonia was at Illinois, but now they're together and I think it's great. They're coming to London the first weekend of February, so hopefully I can return the favour of being a guide/hostess, as they're staying here. Should be a good time!

*******
So here is what we did:

TUES. 30 JAN:
The only sunny day, I'm glad it was my first. What a great introduction to Paris, to gaze down from in front of the Sacre Couer on Montmartre, seeing the entire city spread out below. We walked around Montmartre a bit, then bought passes for the M?tro. I found it highly confusing--there aren't any directions listed, just end stations! plus there's the M?tro and the RER! I'm thankful I had Stephan around to help me navigate. Now I'm a pro (uh, I like to think).

We visited the Isle de la Cit?, where Paris started, and walked by Notre Dame and the Sainte Chapelle on our way to the Latin Quarter. Ahhh....chocolate chaud in front of the Sorbonne, followed by a walk by the Jardin de Luxembourg as the sun set. We finished the evening with a three-course meal for 15 euros in Rueil-Malmaison, the posh suburb where Richard is completing his engineering degree, right next to the town square. This is the life!

WED. 31 DEC.:
It took about an hour all told to get into the city centre: first bus, then RER (fast train), then the M?tro. We eventually made our way to Notre Dame, which was fabulous, of course. I love how it's set in a square--it's quite majestic. But what I loved even more was on the other side of the island: the Sainte Chapelle. It's the only remnant of a palace built by Saint Louis IX in the thirteenth century, and consists of two chapels, the lower dark and gothic, painted with bright colours, the upper chapel a riot of stained glass, every bit of space seemingly taken up with light and colour. It's breathtaking, simply too amazing to describe in words, and if you get the chance I recommend visiting. Even on an overcast day it was awe-inspiring, and I can't imagine what the people living in the 1240s thought of it. It'd be pretty hard to concentrate on praying, let me tell you!

Stephan I and spent the afternoon pushing our way through crowds at Versailles. I'd briefly studied it in Architecture class, but wasn't prepared for the gentle slope upwards that turned into a nice view of the town from the entranceway. But which entrance to choose? I'd never been anywhere that charged different amounts based on which parts of a palace you wanted to visit; nor somewhere that made people queue to get in the various sections once they'd paid for one. (Why not pay for both at once? Or be able to pass through on the interior as well?) It was frustrating how many people there were--I couldn't concentrate on the rooms, nor was there any explanation save their names in the handout. Stephan and I surreptitiously joined an English-speaking group, but something tells me the guide noticed the 6'5 Swiss guy lurking around. The gardens were actually my favourite bit, as I got to recount a humourous story from Architecture: There are so many fountains there isn't enough water, or water pressure, for them all to be on at once for more than a short time. So when Louis XIV (the Sun King) would parade through his gardens, courtieurs in tow, the gardening staff would systematically turn off the fountains once he'd passed them, to conserve water for the ones still within his view. I wonder what they would have done had he suddenly turned around, or if he knew but didn't care, or just wanted to keep up the pretense.

Stephan and I explored Versailles, visiting the baroque cathedral, a patisserie, and several tabacs (small shops) to try to buy etempres, which I'm pretty sure is how you say "stamp." It was great fun speaking French--I would ask a question, they would answer, and I would turn to Stephan and say "They said something about turning left, right?" I feel a lot more comfortable after my short time in Paris--I know I can order in restaurants now, and I picked up some basic phrases I'll not forget ("Un carafe de l'eau" means "A carafe of table water," for example). There's a huge misconception that French people are rude, which I'd like to get out of the way right now. Not only were they all incredibly kind, but most people spoke English to us, even when we spoke in French! (Kind of annoyed Stephan, who's Swiss, and me, because I wanted them to think I was French--hah!) In our six days, we only met a single rude person who cut off Stephan's French request for stamps, saying "I speak English." I shouldn't complain! And I'm not. So for all of you Yanks out there (and you Limeys, too)--the French are great people. That's all there is to it.

And so are the Lebanese. Sonia's father is from Lebanon, and both he and her mother were delightful. Her mother cooked a magnificent SIX-COURSE MEAL for New Year's Eve dinner:

heaps of raw oysters eaten out of the shell (I was a bit leery but hey, when in Rome... and they tasted yummy!)

a type of proscuitto and salami Sonia's grandparents brought from Toulouse

rice plus a seafood medly of scallops, shrimp, fish, mushrooms, and a hint of nutmeg, served with white wine

endives with Roqueford cheese + walnuts, which my mom makes at home

cheese platter of Brie, three kinds of feta, and some others I don't know the names of, served with Bordeaux

mango and champagne sorbet, served with champagne

Then it was a rush to Paris for a party in Montmatre. We hopped off the Tube at midnight and stood near the Trocad?ro across the Seine and watched the Eiffel Tower sparkling as the clock struck. Amazing. The party was fab, too: tons and tons of champagne, and I even did Czech absinthe with a Lebanese Frenchman. Unfortunately, no green fairy visited, but at least I learned a new party trick with lighting alcohol on fire to add to my repertoire. We finally made it home at 6 a.m.

THURS. 1 JAN.:
Slept in. Walked around. That was basically it, but in case you're wondering this is what we covered in our three- or four-mile perambulations:

lunch near the Louvre

by the Op?ra Garnier

by the Place Vendome (which has a replica of Trajan's Column, for some reason)

through the Jardin des Tuileries

by the Place de la Concorde

down the Champs Elys?es to the Arc de Triomphe

over to the Trocad?ro

along the Seine to the Avenue George V

to see Love Actually with Sonia and Richard

around the Arc de Triomphe in the car and back home
Whew!

FRI. 2 JAN.:
Stephan and I spent 1 hour 45 minutes waiting in the freezing cold to get into the Mus?e d'Orsay. The alternative was something approaching a 3-hr wait for the Louvre, which we found unappealing. As it was, I can't believe how much queueing we ended up doing the entire week. Once we finally got in, it was well worth the wait: the Impressionistic art was amazing. Although I do have fond memories of the Monet exhibit in Chicago back in '95... Then we tubed over to the Isle Saint Louis (south of the Isle de la Cit?) and explored the little shops. Fantastic. After which we had dinner in a Greek restaurant in the Latin Quarter.

SAT. 3 JAN.:
Fell sick in the a.m., joined Stephan in the p.m. at the Eiffel Tower. We queued to get into the tower, then queued again on the second floor for ages in order to get to the top. Then another queue to get back down to the second level, and a final, third queue before we reached the ground. All in all the process took somewhere over three hours. Also hours--but worth it--was the amazing Lebanese restaurant Sonia took us and a bunch of her friends to. Her cousin, who joined us, has been going there ever Sunday since 1976, so it was a very convivial atmosphere. We had an amazing variety of delicious food, most of which was in Arabic and can't be translated. I stuffed myself silly, then burned of some cals by joining in a traditional Lebanese dance once the waiters started playing the piano, guitar, and singing traditional Lebanese ballads. What a fun time!

SUN. 4 JAN.:
Take note: There is a 'secret' entrance to the Louvre. Get off the subway and you're already below ground, able to walk on by and, firmly ensconced within its warmth, laugh at the hapless tourists queuing in the rainy courtyard. Also take note: the first Sunday of the month is free. So it was a good thing I waited to go till my last day! Stephan had gone the morning before when I was under the weather, and guided me to some of the best parts. Of course I saw the Mona Lisa right away (what great crowd control!), the Winged Victory of Nike, and the Venus de Milo, all in glorious settings befitting their stature as masterpieces. But my favourite bit (thanks to Stephan) were the State Apartments of Napoleon III. I should've taken photos, but nothing will do them justice. They were actually better than Versailles, as you felt you were a courtier--and they were virtually unvisited.

We rounded off the visit to Paris by a trip down memory lane--my mother's. She wrote me an email ages ago after discovering notes she'd written to one of my aunts:
9ieme arrondissement: Boulevard Madeleine, Bd des Capucines, Bd des Italiens--all near the m?tro stop l'Opera--lots of shops, busy rushing people, flashy atmosphere, shopping, shopping. The French surrealists liked this part of Paris. Check with your friends and see if it is still true. I also wrote down: for true "Parisian atmosphere" walk the length of Rue de Faubourg Poissoniere from the 10th arrondissement down to the 2nd arrondissement.
MY HEAVENS!!! These notes are from June of 1978. Well---you'd better check on this info. But now that I'm reading it, I am going to send it all to you so your friends can laugh at me, suggesting things that were happening 25 years ago.

We didn't laugh, but rather highly enjoyed the Bd Medeline/des Capucines/des Italiens. Jus the way she knew it in the 1970s! The Rue de Foubourg Poissoniere was sadly not as she probably knew it--dingy and with boarded-up shops. But I recommend the first set of streets. And cr?pes! We rendezvoued with Sonia, and I had one with chocolate, whipped cream (chantilly), and bananas....tr?s delicieux!

EN CONCLUSION:
I have the M?tro down now. And I know where the big landmarks are. But do I feel like I 'know' Paris? No. I know Rome, I know London, I even know New York City. But I don't feel as if I captured the true essence of Paris. I loved the city, I loved being there with my friends, and I love being able to say I rang in the New Year across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower.

Guess I'll have to go back, that's all there is to it.


Love,
Theresa