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Published: July 19th 2015
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Dinner by the window
We love our little table with the yellow flowers. Works just as well for pain au chocolat as for baguette and champagne! How can 2 girls make so much mess in 12 hours?
After cleaning up the shambles in the apartment this morning, I poked my head out of the window and who should I see waving up at me but my sister-in-law Sarah - through the windscreen of a VERY swanky car! What are the odds of her arriving the very minute I happened to check the weather? She was way earlier than expected, which was very serendipitous because the trois pain au chocolat waiting for her on our little table with the yellow flowers were becoming hard to resist. We have a lovely pattiserie across the tiny street which beckons every morning as croissant or baguette vapours waft through our open window!
As Sarah's driver opened up the boot to get the bags, Isabel and I ran down the stairs to unlock the door. "Ma Belle-soeur!" was the first thing we heard her say as we all hugged and jumped around in the doorway like mad things. Apparently Sarah had picked up that little jewel of French in conversation en-route from the airport. I think I'm going to stay a belle-soeur forever, no matter which country I'm in. So
Pont des Arts and Institut de France in the distance
Great view as we rode through the Louvre past the Cour Carree much nicer than sister-in-law, n'est-ce pas? The lucky thing had got a business class leg from Hong Kong to Paris, so she was looking pretty fresh!
After settling Sarah into the apartment, we all sat down to breakfast and got out our various lists so that we could compare notes and set priorities for our time in the Paris. We are definitely good travelling companions - everything sounded good to everyone! I did sense a little hesitation in Sarah about one of my 'wishes' - using the Velib rather than the Metro if possible - however she did an admirable job of covering it up! After a quick visit to the Paris Tourism office where we were reminded the museums are free on Sundays and that Isabel is considered a child (saving us a lot of money!), we wandered down to the local velib station. It wasn't long before we had sorted our 8-day Velib passes, then we began getting into a rhythm of who would enter codes and who would check the bikes and pull them out of the racks. The look on Sarah's face as we took off down the bus/taxi/bike lane on Rue de Rivoli in
the wrong direction was priceless. Whoops, that's right - the bike lanes are one-way. Poor Sarah, I suppose it was a bit mean to sit her on a bike in Paris traffic after she'd just got off an international flight. What a christening for the Velib Virgin!
Her wide smile as we rode through the Arches in the Louvre and saw the view of the Pont des Arts with the Institut de France dome in the distance made me feel a bit better. I just never get tired of that view, and the 'surprise' factor as you emerge from the courtyard near the Coeur Carrèe. It was then quite an easy thing to ride along the bike lane next to the Seine (in the right direction) to our destination, Centre George Pompidou, although we did have to navigate a few buses on the way. Quel horreur!
Last time we were here we missed the Stravinsky fountain somehow, so it was a nice surprise to approach the gallery from a different direction. All that riding and near-death experience had made us starving, so we headed straight up the escalators to Café George on the top floor. The people-watching was
Le George
One of the impossibly cool hostesses in the background (The nice one, not the screamer) fabulous, starting with the impossibly haughty-and-gorgeous-yet-friendly-to-us hostesses who swept us along in their awesome wake to an amazing table near the window. The views over Paris were spectacular - all the way to the Eiffel Tower, but I was actually more drawn to the well-heeled French families having Sunday lunch, the group of 'arty' guys next to us with jumpers casually tossed over shoulders as they smoked and argued in French over their Linguini L'Aragoste, and the poor unsuspecting Chinese tourist dressed up to the nines who made the unforgivable mistake of seating herself - earning the unbridled wrath of a hostess who told her off in no uncertain terms at the top of her voice. Our waiter had just spent three months in Melbourne, so it was lovely to ask for white wine and have him know exactly what might be to our taste. The meals were well worth the slightly elevated price you pay at any museum restaurant - and after all, they came with a show! I would be very interested to see the Trip Advisor reviews.
After lunch we had to have a look at the art and visit the museum shop (Museum shops are
loved by all 3 of us, and a bit of an inside joke). What a lovely thing to do on a Sunday afternoon. We wandered the Marais afterwards, and as Isabel looked inside a shop I thought I heard piano music coming from the Eglise St-Merri and went to investigate. In fact, it was coming from open French doors in an apartment above us - just someone practising their Debussy, but beautiful enough for us to stand and listen for a while on a lovely afternoon in Paris.
Our next Velib excursion was to Bastille, where we parked the bikes and went in search of the elusive staircase up to the Promenade Plantèe. It is a lovely elevated park and 4.5km walking track created on the site of a former railway line which linked Bastille and Varenne-St-Maur. We were all thinking of another Belle-Soeur, Penny, as we admired the green walls from the street up to the park, and we loved the combination of the wild vegetation which was retained after it sprang up on the disused track, and the planted displays of roses, hollyhocks and other flowers. Apparently this is where locals come for their Sunday afternoon strolls
and go running, but it was the place we came closest to losing a purse! A very well-dressed man had his hand right at Sarah's bag when I made eye contact. He quickly turned on his heel and walked away in the opposite direction. As I pointed him out to Sarah and Isabel, he casually stopped and looked out over a bridge, waiting for another prospect I suspect.
We continued our walk, then rode back along the viaduct below the promenade, where there are so many lovely shops and interesting cafes built into the arches. The bike path here is just a bike path, so it was relaxed riding, perfect in the late afternoon. By the time we got back to the apartment, after a brief issue with a faulty velib bike and a faulty ticket machine, we were ready for a lovely bottle of champagne that I had been saving since our mega-supermarket stop in Sete, and some baguette and cheese. Funnily enough, we all got a second wind and itchy feet at about 10pm, so our adventures continued as we went for a stroll down toward the Tuileries Ferris Wheel. On impulse, we decided to have a
ride and look at the view over Paris at night, and it was a great decision. I am not such a fan of amusement parks at home, but as we wandered in past Chez Didine it became apparent that this was in a different class. The upholstered chairs were being used by well-dressed tourists sporting designer bags, and a fabulous trio was playing double bass, violin and accordion while one group clapped along. It was the most fantastic atmosphere, and we were quite swept up by it. The ferris wheel itself was very fancy- all white and gold, and as I braced myself for some financial pain, it was an amazing surprise to fork out only €11for a ticket to one of the best views in Paris. We got a long, lovely ride and a spectacular view of Sacre Coeur all lit up in the distance one way, the Pyramid de Louvre, and the Eiffel Tower the other. The only problem was trying to take photos through the glass doors, so sadly my memories are a little blurry. Walking along sideshow alley afterwards, I loved the stand with little ducks and fishing rods for the toddlers and the fun house
- all new and bright and shiny, not a hint of the slightly dodgy carnivals I've visited recently. Even the food vans looked inviting, with their waffles and "Pommes D'amour".
A trip to my favourite fountain was in order afterwards, followed by a pilgrimage to Chanel as we walked home along Rue St Honore. The shop windows kept distracting us until more exciting eavesdropping opportunities presented themselves in the form of a young woman in a truly fabulous ball gown waxing lyrical in a broad Texan accent to a nearly silent Frenchman. The things you see in Paris.
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