Paris: Part Two (Days 2-4)

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Paris Part Deux

If you haven’t noticed I can’t speak French, so for all of those actual French speaking people out there lo siento. Funny story that: I ran into three people today and instead of saying the simple “pardon”, which is actually very similar to the English “pardon me,” I said “lo siento.” I still haven’t gotten it into my head that French and Spanish are not the same language.

So day two of my 4ish day vacation (can I get a whoot, whoot)! Today I was disturbed from my slumber by the shrill alarm on Joanna’s phone and woke up to my feet hanging off the end of the trundle bed. As previously mentioned, Joanna is taking an Art History class, and writing a 6-page paper in French. So while I dozed off in my sleeping bag, she frantically tried to type something about the importance of the red and blue clothing on the different characters in the piece. Needless to say it is not going that well. (Which consequently is why I am now sitting in Café Les Artisans at 11 a.m. on Day 3 sipping café crème and eating a baguette, once again. I feel very Parisian. Oh yeah Day 2, sorry back to the story). Once I dragged myself out of bed and got ready, we set out to the Parc Moneceu, in the north of Paris (the 8th Arrondissement, not that I actually know what that means). Our plan was to grab a baguette at the bread shop that we went to yesterday, but it was closed. Finally we found one that was open and got our baguette. We bought a thing of chevere cheese and hopped on the metro. A half an hour train ride later, we arrived at the beautiful and flowering park.

If you recall from my last post – yes I expect you to read each one – I made fun of the French sculptures for trying to be Italian, which in turn were trying to be Greek. In Parc Maneseau I saw the same thing occurring. The park, hilariously, was littered with fake ruins; there was everything from a Greek temple to a miniature Pyramid. Okay, I admit it looked pretty cool – incredibly cheesy, but who doesn’t love good cheese. (Also according to Joanna “it’s gorg,” can you tell she is from Boston…). We strolled around the very real ruins until we found a nice bench on the running path. There we got out our cheese and bread and ate a half a baguette each with cheese (yes we are pigs). All the while there were runners of every age going past us, and totally judging us. It probably didn’t help that we were speaking loudly in English and feeding the pigeons (which according to Joanna are the rats of the air). A quick metro ride back and we were back to being in crowds and crowds of tourists.

This time we chose Sacre Coeur as our destination, which is another fantastic cathedral in Paris. Sacre Coeur is located at the top of a hill – possibly the only hill in Paris – and offers a fantastic view of the city (for free). Plus for us lazy, lazy Americans there is a little shuttle thing (of a gondola on a rope tow) that takes you up the hill. Use it; it was so worth not walking up like 100 steps! When we got to the top of the hill, we found a large crowd gathered on the steps outside the cathedral. Of course with our perpetual curiosity we meandered over and found a live concert going on. The artist had a spectacular voice and was quite charismatic. He played “Imagine” by John Lennon and got the group of embarrassed tourists to sing along. I of course was singing (one of my all time favorite songs) and Joanna joined in on the choruses. The singer made a mistake though, he asked an American from the crowd where he was from, and the American responded Texas. Now with any other state he would have been safe to take the piss out of the tourist. But Texas... let's just say that he mentioned our dear friend George W. and wow was the response icy. We decided that while the Frenchie was pissing of a Texan, we would vacate the area and head into the safety of the cathedral.

Once again I immediately responded as the good catholic I no longer am, and did the sign of the cross as I entered the cathedral. There is something about these ancient places of worship that inspire spirituality and tug the vestiges of religiousness out of my depths. The inside of the Sacre Coeur was an amazing work of architecture. It also retained the faint traces of incense that seem to seep into the pours of a Catholic Church. There were fantastic shrines to different saints from Teresa to Peter to Mary to Anne, and the only sounds that permeated the space were the quiet murmurings of prayer. Interestingly, I saw for the first time the Catholic belief in touching relics and offering a prayer. Let’s just say that the Virgin Mary and Jesus were kept pretty shiny from the rubbing that they got daily. After the doing a loop inside the church we were back into the light and the bustle of an open-air concert. We took the steps down the hill and were back to the hustle and commotion of tourist trap shops.

Joanna, my fearless guide led me once again onto the metro to the Musée d’Orsey. Okay prepare yourself to be shocked, and in awe of the horrible thing I am about to type. I liked this museum better than the Louvre. I know I know the Louvre is arguably the pinnacle art museum in Europe. Yet, the Musée d’Orsey was overall a better experience. Once we got inside – the queue took forever – the first exhibit we stumbled upon was the Postimpressionists. They had Degas Dancers and the tiny dancer statue. That right there clinched it, the ballerina inside my heart leapt, and pirouetted into a dizzied frenzy of joy. It only got better from there. After seeing Degas, we went up and toured an exhibit of the Pre-Raphaelites. The curator mixed literature, with Victorian photographs and paintings. It was fantastic seeing the real artwork that the poetry I know and love was centered around. The other display that captured my imagination and love was the largest display of Van Gogh in the world. His use of color, the fantastic texturized brushwork, and the way that light moves through his works is inspiring. Everything in the collection, even the still-lifes of flowers, was dynamic and engaging. Also, I got to see the picture that inspired the Dr. Who episode last season (my favorite episode of last year for sure).

Once again, we got hungry, and by hungry I mean that Joanna wanted coffee and I was starving. But in our stupidity and inadequacy at being tourists we failed to realize the next museum we were to visit did not have a café. However, visit it we did. The Musée de le Orangerie is a small museum compared to the Musée d’Orsey and miniscule when compared with the Louvre. However, it plays host to the largest collection of Monet’s Water Lilies in the world. The works dominate the first flour of the museum. There are two oval rooms with four murals in each. Strict silence is maintained and the art lulls you into a contemplative meditative trance. At least that is what happened to me, Joanna thought that there were to many Water Lilies in one room to look good. The rest of the museum was filled with Picasso, Matisse, Manet and other modern masters of art. I loved it.

Outside the Musée de le Orangerie we went in search of food and the Arc de Triumph. To get to both we had to cross a roundabout grandissimo. There were four boulevards in the roundabout, which is just ridiculous. Finally we got to the Champs de Elysées, and entered the Times Square of Paris. Side note: I fed myself by getting a crepe with Nutella. It was really good. We wandered about halfway up, and stopped in a couple of gigantic stores (literally the largest Sephora I have ever seen) and took the required pictures of the Arc de Triumph. Then we both decided we were tired, thirsty, and hungry. So we went back home, but not before stopping to pick up another baguette, and a tomato from the local shops. With this purchase and subsequent devouring, we each managed to eat a baguette. I am very, very proud of this fact!

We decided for the sake of my health and Joanna’s paper that I would laze about and she would type for a few hours, before going out that evening. Then we got the unfortunate message that the club on a boat was not open. Apparently (unlike Thekla in Bristol) the boat club is only open once a month. How lame. So like the super cool party people we are… we watched The King’s Speech. (I was amazed by this movie, it was moving, heart-warming, the acting was brilliant, I will be buying it. I believe it is a watch over and over again movie). That was really it for the day. Besides the fact that my computer started to really misbehave – we are in a fight.

Now onto Paris days three and four. These blissful days were spent in quiet relaxation. As mentioned previously we ventured to a little cafe in the 15th for breakfast and typing. I actually ate food, Joanna ate coffee. Joanna actually did work, I did blog writing. We both sipped cafe cremme. After about three hours and all of my battery later, we packed up and started out on our tourist adventure for the day.

We chose to head to a part of Paris that is littered with tiny boutiques, picturesque cafes and little parks. It is called Le Marais. We spent the afternoon exploring the area and "strolling" around. Apparently I have the habit of walking to quickly (as if) and not taking in the sights and sounds of the city. The area was beautiful and the window shopping was fantastic. Once again we decided to eat at a corner cafe, out in the sunshine. Unfortunately, this also meant out in the cigarette smoke. That is one thing I truly disliked about Paris, all the smoking really got to me. From there it was back to the 15th and Center Stage for me, while Joanna once again worked hard on her paper.

My final day was truly spent traveling. I won't bore you with the details of waiting in an airport (my plane was over an hour late), waiting in a train station (for 3 hours), or taking a taxi (quite easy). Take whatever annoying journey you have recently (within the past 10 years) taken on an airplane and it was probably quite similar to my experience. Then add the fact that I use public transportation and you can get a pretty clear picture of my journey back to Bristol. All in all it is sufficient to say that I made it home safe and sound.

On a more positive note, I will say that I finally got to try the pastry that I had been dying to taste since I was 10. It is the one that looks like a perfect tiny pie with raspberries and strawberries lining the top. When you bite into it the tartness of the berries is contrasted with the sugary richness of the pastries body. Overall, the flavors and textures combine to a lush finish of absolute decadence. Needless to say it lived up to my imagination.

Furthermore, I got to eat three more macarons! These were from the super fancy macaron shop (that apparently has the best, or the second best macarons in Paris). Their flavors were far more exotic than the first shops, but they were lacking the shinyness of the previous macarons. The first one I tried was a Rose flavored. It was really quite good, although the taste and smell of roses was a little overpowering. Next was the Chocolate-Ginger. Once again, a flavor that I had not tried before in my life. I enjoyed it. However, the gold star goes to the Olive-Vanilla macaron. The slight saltiness of the olive added a roundness to the vanilla flavor to make another fantastic combination that tantalized my taste buds.

Well that's it for Paris folks. A fantastic holiday in a city that has charmed me with its cheap wine, fantastic food, decadent coffee and magnificent sights. I sincerely hope that you have all enjoyed reading about my travels to Paris. I know I enjoyed the traveling and the writing. Like always there are pictures here for you to peruse!

Love and Peace,
Anna xx

P.S. If you didn’t figure out the movie from last time, it was The Princess Bride. I am also judging you just a little bit right now. xx ☺

P.S.S. I set my date to venture back home... I will land in MN on Aug 27th. So be prepared for 5 more months of Travelblog blogging!

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Photos

Studying
or actually typing this blog...

Joanna at the Park
Fake Ruins hahaha

Joanna
Navigating...

Studying
Or trying to make up stuff about art