The hostel
was just a few hundred yards from the Jules Joffrin metro stop, which is
a wonderful place to be. The neighborhood feels busy, there are lots of
little stores, bakeries, butchers, cafes, restaurants, and anything else
we might want. Not just that, but a lot of people live in this
neighborhood, too. It’s not all tourists all the time like the Latin
quarter.
On our first
night we discovered that dinner doesn’t start ‘til 7. (Red-eye with
little sleep meant we would’ve liked it a little earlier than that.)
However, it was worth the wait. In fact, that entire first day we
probably had the best food of our stay here. A wonderful bakery sandwich
(fresh bread, with some ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and horse-radish
mayo) started us off, and we’ve been going back to that bakery ever
since. (We also tried a few others, but they just weren’t as good.)
Just
northwest of the metro station is a street thick with food stores, and
we cooked some simple meals in the hostel. Our first cooked meal was
made up of hand-made ravioli (bought, not made), tomatoes, basil,
garlic, and olive oil. The next one we did was a stew of random things,
centered around Toulouse sausage. (Turns out Toulouse sausage is not the
best choice for that. It’s all meat, so doesn’t have a lot of the flavor
I usually associate with sausages.) Our final dinner was a rotisserie
chicken with assorted vegetables. The produce here is very nice, and
available everywhere. You can’t go a few blocks without encountering a
convenience store, and they all sell produce. And not just 5 apples and
some bananas, either. My most interesting food experience was to try
foie gras. It tastes, unsurprisingly, somewhat like liver. But it’s much
less grainy, smoother, and not as strong. It’s more like a liver pate.
The language wasn’t really a problem. A lot of my high school French
came back to me, and most of the people we interacted with (ie. the ones
selling us something) spoke enough English that I didn’t strictly need
the French. The front desk people at our hostel all spoke English quite
well, and that was the only people I really went outside the standard
script with. Our funniest language moment was when Danielle wanted to
order coffee with milk, started saying “cafe con …”, and the waiter
helpfully completed “cafe con leche” (which is Spanish, for those who
don’t keep up with world-wide coffee lingo). Almost everybody we saw was
actually quite friendly. We didn’t see really anything of the
stereotypical rude Frenchman.
We also
enjoyed people-watching at the cafe/brasserie on a busy street corner
right by the metro. Somewhere there’s a series of 10 pictures of
everybody crossing the street in a short amount of time. It’s
interesting to see how different (or similar) people dress. Some
Parisians definitely try to stand out more. Instead of plain jeans,
they’ve got patterns. Or they wear a crazy hat. Or a weird belt. Or
whatever. Some of the most interesting dress belonged to (presumably)
African immigrants, who still go around in their native garb. I was also
surprised at the relatively large amount of American shirts to be seen
around. I even saw somebody sporting an “I heart NY” shirt.
Most days we
spent getting up late, eating, wandering around somewhere new, eating,
relax at the hostel a little (which for me usually meant uploading
pictures; if you hadn’t noticed, you can often see what we’re up to in
between blog postings by checking if the album has changed), maybe some
more wandering and eating, and then to bed. We only got up early twice.
Once to beat the crowds at the Eiffel tower (it was merely busy when we
arrived 20 minutes before opening), and once to see the inside of Notre
Dame on our day of departure here.
So we saw a
bunch of sights. Not a ton. Just a bunch. We went up both the Arc de
Triomphe and the Eiffel tower. The latter had better views, although
looking down the Champs Elysees from the Arc was pretty cool. The
neatest part about the Eiffel tower was the actual going up the
elevator. You can see how you’re getting higher and higher, and there
really isn’t a whole lot of actual building around you to keep it all
up. It must be solid because it’s been around for a while, but it’s
still a little scary.
The best
surprise sight was the Petit Palais, which we entered because our
guidebook (Rick Steves’ Paris, recommended) said to go in. It’s free,
and it is a really cool building to see from the inside. Some amazing
mosaics, cool sculptures, gold leaf. There was also a cool old clock,
which looked like monkeys would dance on the hour. The outside of the
Notre Dame is also very pretty. It’s impressive how much detail there is
everywhere. Even the little sculptures over the side door are
beautifully finished. The inside is nice, but not as neat.
We decided
to skip the Louvre, because it would mean lots of crowds, and I wouldn’t
enjoy it that much anyway. Instead we visited the Orangerie. Monet’s
water lily paintings are there, and they were very nice. They’re over 50
feet long, which I never realized. There was also some other stuff
there, and I dutifully looked at it all, but I didn’t like it that much.
What I did like was some of the art sold on the banks of the Seine in
the Latin quarter. It was much more colorful (and not necessarily less
stylized) than the stuff we saw in the museum. It was also much cheaper,
but not cheap enough for me to buy any.
On Friday we
did a guided tour with Fat Tire Bike Tours. They’re an American company,
and take you around the town on a bunch of Schwinn-looking bikes. It was
a lot of fun, and a nice change from walking all the time. We went by
most of the Champs-Elysees sights, along with some other ones. I think I
even learned a thing or two (that I actually remember). On a related
note, Paris has these neat rental bikes scattered all over the city. You
get a special bike card, and you can take one out. Return it a few hours
later, all for just a few euros. It seems like a great idea. We didn’t
get to try it, because it requires a French-issued credit card. After
the bike tour we took a boat tour on the Seine (because we were there
anyway) which was pleasant but not as fun.
On Saturday, a day late, I did a 12 minute Cindy workout. That means, as
many rounds as possible in 12 minutes of: 5 pull ups (on the scaffolding
in the courtyard of the hostel) 10 push ups 15 squats I managed 7
rounds, 5 pull ups, and 8 push ups. Not as good as last time, but good
enough.
So that was
Paris. I’m sure there’s something I’ve forgotten. Ask questions if
you’re curious. It feels like we’ve both been here too short and too
long. Too short because there’s tons left to see. Too long because I’m
pretty tired, and am looking forward to a few days in a sleepy town.