vmac+cheese

As you can imagine, a person can see a lot in Paris in a week and a half. I hemmed and hawed over the best way to give you a snapshot of what we did there, and decided that a best-of list (of sorts) was the easiest and most efficient way to tackle the job. But fear not — I have a few other Paris posts up my sleeve too: a tour of Versailles, language barrier hilarity and more.

Ready to hear about Paris? Away we go!

Specs

Length of stay: June 17-26

Took up residence at: Hotel Castille, at 33 Rue Cambon, right next door to Chanel. Rue Cambon is in the 1er arrondisement, sandwiched between the Place de Madeleine, the Rue de Rivoli at Place de la Concorde, the Tuileries and the Place Vendome. Actually, that’s not really a sandwich, but if you know Paris, this gives you a good idea of where we were. We liked it there. The room had a French-style shower (no real shower door to speak of — Joe sprayed water everywhere), but I loved taking a bath everyday. Like a lot of other things there, the French really know how to take their time and squeeze every last drop of pleasure out of the simplest things.

Weather report: For the first three or four days we were there, it was quite cold! One day it even rained a little. I had packed anticipating San Francisco type weather (as weather.com told me to expect), with highs in the upper 60s and lows in the high 50s. The first part of the trip, I was a little chilly, and for the last part — when it was over 80 degrees — I was a bit overheated. But I wasn’t as hot and sweaty as Joe. I told him not to bring shorts, since a) I didn’t think it’d be hot enough to need them, and b) I thought it would make us stick out as American tourists. He’s very impressionable, that Joe, so he listened to me for once. I guess the thing with Paris in June is that there are tourists everywhere, and even without the shorts, you kind of stick out. Try as you might, you can always tell who is French and who is not (though towards the end of the trip, I made every effort to be mistaken for French!). In any case, Joe had to wear jeans during the 80 degree days, the poor thing. I’m sorry, Joe. Will you forgive me for the shorts debacle?

Attractions tackled: Pretty much everything. All the museums (Louvre, Orsay, Orangerie, Rodin, and an attempt at the Picasso, but sadly, it was closed for renovations), Notre Dame, Arc de Triomphe, le Tour Eiffel, Pantheon, Jardin de Luxembourg, Tuileries, Champs Elysees, Place Vendome and Vosges, Sacre Coeur, and St. Sulpice. Oh, and of course, Versailles.

A quick breakdown:

Louvre - gorgeous space, less interesting pieces. Fun to see the Mona Lisa, not fun to elbow your way to the front to get a glimpse of it. Joe really likes the renaissance/religious art (I still haven’t figured out why), so I think he enjoyed it. He also seemed strangely enamored with these 13th century tapestries that hung from floor to ceiling. He never ceases to surprise me.

Orsay – currently being renovated, and half of the collection is HERE IN SAN FRANCISCO (gah!). Still, some great Van Gogh’s on display, and the space itself was probably my favorite. The Gare Orsay is beautiful — I would’ve loved to have caught a train there any day when it was still open!

Orangerie - LOVED (see below).

Rodin - sculpture is more Joe’s thing, not mine. The garden’s had some beautiful hydrangeas in it though.

Notre Dame – a beautiful church. Probably more beautiful since a choir happened to be performing when we visited. Their voices literally soared in that space.

Arc de Triomphe – unreal at night. I don’t know why more people don’t go when it’s dusk (it stays open until 11!). A long ascent up 200 odd stairs to the top, and once you get there, some great views of the city. I was very proud that I didn’t have to take a break from the stairs…lots of people did.

Eiffel Tower - you have to go to get the requisite pictures, but we opted not to ride the elevator to the top. When taking aerial view pictures of Paris, isn’t the point to get the Eiffel Tower in the shot? The Champ de Mars though, was fantastic to hang out in. And there’s ice cream.

Pantheon – boring. I can’t believe they charge 7.50€ to get in (which we luckily didn’t have to pay — thank you, Museum Pass). Unless you’re really interested in seeing Rousseau and Voltaire’s crypts, fuggedaboutit.

Jardin de Luxembourg – LOVE. Could sit there all day. It’s like sitting in an impressionist painting. And there’s ice cream! (Note the theme…)  Same story with the Tuileries.

Champs Elysees – Good shopping, but it’s crowded. Like, Pier 39 crowded.

Sacre Coeur – Pretty. But it was pushing 85 degrees and we were hungry, so once we got to the top and said “Ooh, look at the view,” we split to find some shade and a bottle of rosé. For this reason, I think the Sacre Coeur is fantastic!

The Nitty Gritty

Favorite neighborhood: For me, it’s a toss up between the Marais (4eme arr.), and the St. Germain/Latin Quarter area (5eme/6eme arr.). Both just had such great energy, tons of shops I’d love to spend the afternoon in, and of course, a dizzying array of places to eat.

Best purchase: I only purchased 3 things on this trip, all of which I truly adore. A 30€ pair of black pants that are exactly what I’ve been looking for for a long time (ankle cropped, slim fitting, a sheeny-sateeny look and very comfortable), a 40€ single button black blazer (see fashion report below), and Les Exclusifs de Chanel Gardenia eau de toilette. Though I’m generally a citrus kind of gal, I go crazy for the smell of gardenia, so when I first heard about the Les Exclusifs line of perfumes, I was dying to check it out. It’s only sold at select Chanel boutiques, but lucky me, there was one right next door to my hotel!

You really only purchased 3 things?: Okay, okay. I guess technically I also stocked up on Maille dijon mustard (so cheap at FranPrix!), and a ton of chocolate to bring to people at work.

Best meal: Don’t laugh. It was at L’As du Falafel, on Rue de Rossiers in the Marais. Best. falafel. ever. Seriously. I’ve never had better falafel in my life. Washed down with a great Israeli beer and the end of the Germany/Ghana match, it was a perfect meal.

Favorite touristy thing you did: I really enjoyed the Orangerie. Monet’s water lilies were breathtaking in person — the 8 panels were overwhelming in their beauty. I’m often skeptical of the idea that art can really make you feel, but the use of color in those paintings made me get a little teary eyed.

I’m not really a church person (and certainly not a church goer), but Notre Dame was pretty spectacular as well.

Moment of national embarrassment: The huge group of Americans who sounded like they were from the midwest, touching — no, scratching — the Code of Hammurabi at the Louvre. Joe and I determined that there should be an IQ test before people are allowed out of the country, or anywhere near 4000 year old objects.

The Code of Hammurabi -- happiest when your grubby little hands AREN'T touching it.

Even more embarrassing: The Louvre security guy who sort of shooed them away, but didn’t really seem to care that much.

Moment of national pride: When the US won its last first stage game against Algeria. We were sitting at a cafe near the corner of Avenue de la Bourdonnais and Avenue de Rapp, and all of a sudden, the cafe across the street erupted into cheers. As we were leaving the cafe, and walked by the other, the crowd went wild again, and all of a sudden began chanting, “U-S-A! U-S-A!” The Parisians walking by were none too pleased by the loud, obnoxious Americans, but I was delighted.

Well, you certainly don’t see this at home moment: When Portugal beat North Korea 7-0, Joe and I were heading out for an evening stroll up at the Champs Elysees. We planned to climb up to the top of the Arc de Triomphe and see Paris at night. As we were walking, we noticed lots of people flying the Portuguese flag out the sides of their cars, and honking a lot. Things got more interesting when we realized all these cars were going to the same place — an impromptu street party on the Champs!

About half way up the boulevard, there were literally people standing in the street and waving flags, people riding on top of cars that were zooming around at 30 miles an hour, waving flags, and people spraying each other with mystery bottles of liquid — all with other cars trying to drive along the street and get to where they were going. Red lights were run. Traffic incidents were caused. Fans were nearly run over. By the time we went to the Arc, took our pictures, and were walking by the scene again, a bus filled with a bunch of septuagenarians (probably from Florida) was stopped in the middle of the Champs, with silly string all over it. Half of the old folks were on the street, confused as to what the hell was going on, the other half were wisely staying put in the bus, just wanting to take a nap. Riot police were called in. The Portuguese fans didn’t take too kindly to being told they had to stop running through oncoming traffic. We exited the scene before we got drawn in. It was exhilarating to see.

Biggest touristy let down: The church of St. Sulpice, as featured in Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code. It sounded way more exciting in the book.

It really IS a small world: While visiting the Rodin Museum, we ran into Jim Ellis, Dean of the Marshall School of Business at USC. When Joe and I were freshman, we took an honors business student symposium (nerds!) taught by Professor Ellis. Though we technically met at a football game Labor Day weekend of that year, it was in Professor Ellis’ class that Joe and I begin talking, sitting next to each other, passing notes during lecture, and eventually dating. In fact, our first date (lunch at Subway) took place right after one of  Professor Ellis’ classes.

We have always talked about how if we ever saw Dean Ellis — at a football game, or an alumni event — we would approach him and tell him our story. Never a grillion years would I have imagined that I’d see him standing outside the bathroom in the gardens at the Rodin Museum, waiting for his wife.

Yes, we told him our story. He liked it. He was also wearing cardinal red and gold. You can take the Trojan out of LA…

But what about Versailles?: Ohhhh Versailles. It blew both of us away. I’m going to put together a whole post on Versailles. I think that Versailles might actually be my favorite touristy thing we did, but it’s such a completely mind blowing place that it doesn’t even seem fair to compare it to the Orangerie, or anything else in Paris.

“Is this real life?” moment: One afternoon after a bottle of Chablis and lots of good jambon, for some strange reason we decided that buying a pack of cigarettes and smoking in a cafe like every other Parisian was the best idea we’d ever had. Here’s a tip: if you don’t currently ingest nicotine products, do NOT chain smoke cigarettes after already feeling woozy from half a bottle of vino. Otherwise, you’ll end up in the Luxembourg gardens, watching little kids and old men play tennis, experiencing vertigo, desperately craving ice cream, and generally wishing you could lay down and die. Said cigarettes were left as a thank you-goodbye present for our hotel room attendant. Uff.

Stellar service (no, really) moment: Our very last night in Paris, we desperately wanted to end things with ice cream. After finishing dinner, we took a walk through the Tuileries in search of the goods, only to find that there was a huge carnival taking place in a fenced off area (I sensed most Parisians thought this sideshow of flashing lights and noisy log rides was very tacky, as it wasn’t heavily patroned). “Certainly, there must be glace at this here carnival!” we said to one another, and began looking for the entrance.

Perhaps the reason the carnival had such low attendance was that it only had one entrance, which we never were able to find. Perhaps locating the entrance was a test, identifying those who were worthy of hopping on the ferris wheel. In any case, we saw two ice cream stands, but both were behind the fencing, and out of reach. It was awful.

We were having ice cream withdrawals.

One of the stands, though, had a small open window in the back, and we noticed an enterprising group of Parisians speaking with the attendant through this little outlet of hope. A minute later, 3 delectable looking ice cream cones appeared out of the window, and into their hot little hands. Mon dieu!

With our horrible French, we lined up behind them. It was a covert ice cream operation. We ordered through the window, and ice cream was passed through the fence to us. We gave them a big tip. Right after we ordered, another group came up, but the window was shut on them.

Illegal ice cream dealing in Paris. Fantastic!

Another glace dealer, this one near the Louvre.

I really wish I lived here moment: After we got our glace, we sat down in the gardens to eat and enjoy. A group of about 8 Parisian 20-somethings were next to us, picnicing, drinking wine from plastic cups (clear ones, not red ones), and playing boules. The sun was setting. They were fashionably dressed. The air was warm and the breeze light. I didn’t want to leave Paris, ever.

This all sounds great. But you gained like 20 lbs, right?: Actually, Joe and I didn’t take a single cab while we were there, and only took the Metro a handful of times. On the whole, I’d say we probably lost weight in Paris.

Fashion report: I have no idea what men were wearing, other than they always looked put together. For women, the story was lots of heightened contrasts: grunge mixed with small scale florals; menswear inspired (blazers, oxfords, tailoring) paired with very feminine accessories or shoes, and unfortunately, lots and lots of harem-style pants (sorry ladies). These pants (they generally have an easy, loose (sometimes pleated) fit through the hip and thigh, and a cuffed ankle) were often paired with medium sized belts, and the aforementioned menswear inspired elements. In other words, the 90s are back.

Things you like about Paris: I like that tax is wrapped into items you buy. I like that you can sit somewhere for as long as you like without being bothered. I LOVE the public gardens. I like that you’re probably never a 10 minute walk from an ice cream stand, or the metro for that matter. I like that good wine is insanely cheap. I like that sinks are separated from toilets. And I love that people there really know how to enjoy their lives.

Things you don’t like about Paris: The public bathrooms. They’re always down in a basement, and always smelly. Oh, and those awful, creepy, mutant pigeons in all the public parks. If you didn’t know, I can’t stand pigeons.

So, would you go back?: Tomorrow. I loved it.

Filed under: Photography, Travels