Paris « Minidramas of a 24-year-old

“Welcome aboard Ryan Air. The world’s favorite airline.”

After getting two hours of sleep studying for midterms, spending the entire day writing essays in Italian that probably ended up being in Spanish, and running to the train station to catch the bus to Ryan Air, I was finally sitting on the airplane ready to spend my fall break in Parigi.

…

One hour later, we were like a thousand kilometers in the air when all of a sudden the plane smashed onto the ground and then BOUNCED on the concrete without having decreased any speed. We were racing down the airway like some prize horse on the racetrack. It was terrifying.

But only 5 euro.

…

We arrived at our hostel at midnight and were starving. After commenting on how perfect our hostel location was and how cute our bunk beds were, we decided to walk around the neighborhood in search of an open restaurant. We were walking for ten minutes finding absolutely nothing when we saw flashing neon lights in the distance. It was mesmerizing and alluring. So we walked towards it until finding ourselves standing in front of a gigantic building covered with large windows. Each window had a girl or two inside of them dressed in black lingerie moving suggestively over a table, or bending over, or putting on a stocking. In large capital letters it said, SEXODROME at the top.

We were in the red-light district.

Turns out we were a pleasant ten-minute walk from Moulin Rouge as well.

Day 1: “Napoleon is a douche bag.”

Our first day in Parigi was breathtaking. Every time I turned my head it was another perfect picture. The city was so pretty that it was almost too pretty, as if the entire city was manicured and made out of plastic. Turns out that that was exactly what it was. When Napoleon Bonaparte came to town, he decided to rip everything out, destroy 20,000 homes and erase the city’s history in order to rebuild starting from the sewage system up. Paris was a planned city. All the wide boulevards with the gas lamps and the piazzas lined with green and yellow trees and the gorgeous limestone monuments were all done by Haussmann, Napoleon’s right hand man.

Though Napoleon conquered Venice thereby taking away their Republic, he was still referred to as The Liberator by the Venetian Jews. Then in a shocking political maneuver he handed the city over to the Austrians in the Treaty of Campo Formio, committing the Venetians to foreign rule and betrayed them all. I related this story to Jordan as we walked through the Piazza Signori in front of the beautiful Hotel de’Ville to which Jordan responded, “What a douche bag.”

The rest of the day was spent in La Saint Chapelle, a gorgeous church made out of stained glass depicting the Bible stories starting from Genesis and the Notre Dame where we failed to find the Hunchback. We avoided the random spurts of rain by ducking into the Louvre and the Musee d`Orsay – both of which were the most enjoyable museum experiences I have ever had. According to my very pessimistic, opinionated, passionate Italian boss, the Louvre was “destroyed” when they decided to place the “stupid pyramid” in the center of the piazza, which is actually only 30 years old. I liked it. It reminded me of The Da Vinci Code. We saw the Mona Lisa, the portrait of Van Gogh by Van Gogh, my absolute favorite painter, and Dum Dum! You know, the gigantic stone statues of gum chewing heads from Easter Island who are also featured in the great family film, Night At The Museum? My fav.

Then at night I met with Hannah Cho, a high school friend who I literally haven’t seen in over three years. We went to Les Éditeurs, a library turned cafe stuffed with red lounge chairs. With wine and olives we talked for three hours straight about high school and college, boys and our respective stances on marriage, and where our post-college lives will take us.

How much time has gone. We are already 22.

Day 2: Hannah Day

So the day before I was leaving for Paris and also the day before my dreadful midterms, I Facebook messaged my dear friend Hannah Lee. She had spent the last Fall semester in Paris and so I asked her for some recommendations. I figured she would send me a few things to check out that I could research with the hostel’s internet. Two seconds before leaving for Paris I printed out her reply which ended up being three pages long filled with the numbered bests of Paris, and their respective addresses, directions and commentary. Screw Rick Steve. Hannah Lee’s Guide to Paris was an amazing gem. The hidden stores in alleys and delectable delights of the city that would have taken months to discover were all neatly listed in numbered format. Simply fabulous.

So Hannah Cho and I set off to fulfill the Hannah Lee Best of Paris List.

“8. EAT A BAGUETTE. Pop into any boulangerie (there are tons on every corner) and just order a baguette, some pretty-looking pastries, and enjoy!! Trust me when I say that you will never find as good a baguette here as you will in France.”

I met Hannah bright and early for our picnic breakfast in the Luxembourg Garden. I bought a baguette for € .90 euro. It was half my height. We coupled it with some soft garlic cheese and rose wine and had a fabulous morning eating and talking amidst the fall trees. The Garden was beautiful.

“1. FREE PSTAR. this is a must!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i went here at least four times a week–there is ALWAYS going to be different stuff in the store because they’re constantly restocking. … it’s located in my favorite neighborhood–le marais. Le Marais is the Jewish/gay neighborhood filled with lots of art galleries, boutiques, and vintage stores and LOTS AND LOTS of hip people. i think you’ll love this area, too.”

We spent the afternoon shopping in Marsais. I think we spent over an hour inside of that tiny little store. It was literally the size of my bathroom, with a makeshift ledge that overflowed with feathery boas, purses and a hundred dead furs still with their paws and heads. It also had a tiny spiral staircase that led to an underground room lined with fur coats and dresses and blazers. The place was everything that Hannah promised and more. It was shopping heaven.

We then caught lunch at Les Philosphes, a hip Parisian cafe where I had steak tartar with a raw egg. Amazing? Yes.

“4. Laduree. This is the ultimate French patisserie that EVERYONE goes to. It is especially famous for their macaroons, which are delicious!!!”

We walked down Champs Elysee, a street comparable to LA’s Rodeo Drive, and bought nothing. =) But right when I was getting tired of walking and not shopping we found Laduree.

Laduree is the epitome of French extravagance. Though a pasticerria, the walls and tables and floors are all marble with golden statues and gilded columns. There was a restaurant upstairs and downstairs and had a bar stretching through the expanse of the room filled with tiny beautiful concoctions of colors and fruits and cremes. We ordered 4 mini macaroons each and a pot of hot chocolate.

The macaroon is a realized fantasy. Two delicate pieces of airy cookies sandwich a flavored filling: pistachio, praline, caramel, dark chocolate, raspberry – you name it. All different, all subtly flavorful and perfectly crisp. With one bite the macaroon melts in your mouth in a mix of crunchy and creamy with flavors bursting. I sound so melodramatic. Wait till I get to the orange blossom.

When I bit into the orange blossom I almost cried. It was that good. I couldn’t eat any more of it and just kept repeating over and over to Hannah how good it was. The cookie was orange with a lime green filling. It tasted strongly of oranges but then simultaneously infused with a burst of lime. I’m not even sure how to describe it. You just have to eat it for yourself. It was oh my god amazing. I can’t believe I’ve lived my life for 22 years without it.

We ended up spending two hours in there until the sun set. Then we walked to the Arc de Triomph (got in for free cause the lady thought we were EU citizens) and hiked it all the way to the top. (P.S. I hate winding staircases, you can never see how much more you have left.) The view was incredible. Afterwards we ran to catch the Eiffel Tower for its hourly lights show. So, so, so pretty.

“5. Le Pot de Terre. If you are ever hungry and want the ultimate French meal, you should go here. This is a cozy restaurant that I found while I was in Paris, and I instantly fell in love with it…”

Menu:

Soupe á l’orignon gratinée
(Onion Soup that isn’t called French Onion Soup because we were IN France!)

escargots de Bourgógne au bennre d’aul
(Escargot, better known as snails, boiled in olive oil and garlic and spices in individual slots on a pot. It was so good but the snail gave a slight bitter aftertaste.)

magret de canard au miel
(Duck with a honey glaze. It was amazing. So soft!)

And for dessert, creme brulee. Obvi.

A three course meal for only €16 euro. I was so stuffed I could barely walk to our next stop: The Frog and Princess Bar.

So the other night we were walking to the Les Editèurs Cafe when Hannah started telling me how the street we were crossing was called The Princess, and there was a bar on the street that was called The Frog and Princess Bar. That’s so cute, I said, and then I thought, wait a minute – I know that bar.

“Does that bar have coasters that are actually postcards?”
“Yea! How did you know?”

When Hannah Lee was in Paris she had sent me a postcard. I remembered thinking how odd it was that the postcard was actually a coaster she had picked up from a bar.

So that night we went to the Frog and Princess bar and I grabbed a handful of those postcards.

Day 3: Goodbye Parigi

The next morning we walked up the hill to Sacre Coure, a church that sits on the highest point of Paris and also where they filmed Amelie.

I met up with Hannah for lunch and after visited the original Shakespeare Co. It was the cutest vintage bookstore in the world. It was basically a tiny tiny house that was converted into a store. Books were flowing everywhere with armchairs and sofas tucked into corners for readers. There was a piano on the second floor that you could play if you promised to be good and a wishing well under the floor.

The last thing that I did in Paris was #10 on Hannah’s list.

“10. EAT A CREPE.”

So I ate a crepe. You could order a crepe with any flavor ranging from Nutella, to hazelnut to plain sugar or jam. We got the creme de marron, which is cream of chestnut. It was so good. The French crepe is the equivalent to Italy’s gelato. You haven’t had a gelato until you’ve had one in Italy, and you haven’t had a crepe until you’ve had one in France.

Paris was amazing. People who would return from a trip to Paris would always exclaim how much they loved it, how beautiful it was, how they vow to spend the rest of their lives there; and I always thought, “geez, what a drama queen.”

But it’s true.

I can’t wait to go back.