This has been a LONG time coming. Read the first part of this, focused on London, here.
This is now EIGHT months ago. But better late than never, eh? As I said in that last post, this is part of a three-city/country trip, with Paris, France being the second part of the journey.
Our train from London was delayed for about an hour. So we arrived in Paris about 50 minutes later than planned. We tried getting an Uber at the train station in Paris, and this proved tricky. We then opted for a Taxi. We felt like he duped us because Uber was supposed to be 17 Euros. Tell me when this man charged us 37 Euros. And I could see it on his face. He definitely duped us. In any case, we checked in at our hotel and immediately left. It was so cold and we needed new coats so we headed to Boulevard Haussmann, first to Galeries Lafayette at Haussmann. And whew the LUXURY. The mall is GORGEOUS. Oh man. But we couldn't find a coat no matter how hard we tried. Then we ran across the street to H&M to ask for a coat. They said they didn't have and to check Zara. we were literally running because for some reason stores close at 8 or 8:30 and it was like 7:56 or so. We got to Zara and they said they no longer carry coats. Mind you, it's like 48 degrees (Fahrenheit) and extremely windy so the idea of a store no longer carrying coats was odd (this was in April). But she directed us to Uniqlo. Still nothing. Then we went to Mango. Nothing. Then back to H&M, and still nothing. We finally accepted defeat and decided to go get dinner. We got to the Instagram famous Pink Mamma and I kid you not the line was so long that it was a 1.5 hour wait and despite that we would barely got a table and would have to settle for seats at the bar. We actually accepted those terms and waited. I'm a little ashamed to say we stood in the cold (with no coats) for over an hour for pasta. It ended up being good though (full review here).
Then when we got back to our hotel that night.
So here is the thing. I typed Day 2 and Day 3 in my gmail drafts and somehow Gmail deleted everything. I was really angry about that. All the nuances of things I typed were gone. [When I wrote this it was in present tense and the anger I conveyed is actually comical now. Like, yes, it's a frustrating thing but it's not the end of the world. Lessons to be learned people: if it won't matter in six months or heck six weeks, it's not worth your energy. As I am now editing to post this, it feels so nonsensical. Yeah, the vacation diary entries disappeared. And? I still had an amazing holiday.] But yes, I was very furious. I tried retracing our steps but it was hard to be exact.
Here is what I remembered: on Day 2 we started the day by going to The Louvre. Then we went to a place called Baguett's Cafe for lunch. There was a line there as well. I remembered how rude the vendor just outside The Louvre was. We said bonjour and he responded with hello please with a heavy connotation of irritation. Rudeness was quite a thing in Paris. People talk a lot about how Paris is overrated. I found the city itself beautiful, with lots of history, culture, and great food. But the people? Not so much. Everyone was rude and grumpy. The only exceptions were non-Parisians. One of the more pleasant people we met was the server at Baguett's but turned out she was American too.
In my notes, I mentioned over and over how angry I was because of the lost entries. And quite frankly, as I'm blogging this I literally do NOT care. It is, once again, hilarious that something that caused me so much anguish is not even evoking a modicum of emotion in me. Life. After lunch on Day 2, I believe we went back to Galeries Lafayette and the luxury and exorbitant prices just didn’t make sense because why was a “vintage” tattered looking blouse costing 950 Euros? We went to another vintage shop and it was the same story. And so, it begged the question, how much do people earn in Paris to be able to afford 10k bags? Isn’t France a socialist country (OK, spoken like a true American. I kid I kid. It’s just a country with great social safety net programs and nothing I want more for America than that. So I'm envious, man). But Paris is just sooo expensive. The whole thing is a blur now and this is why it’s important to journal, I said as I realized entries had disappeared. Because how had I already forgotten merely days after? I know people say to live in the moment. That's true. But when the moment has passed (and it will) what do you have left? Memories. And how do you preserve those? Take pictures. Record. Write about it. Tell people. For dinner on Day 2, we went to an Italian place called Gusto Italian. And I remember comparing the quality of food in Europe to America. Food is just so good there.
It seemed like I spoke too soon about food because Day 3 started with lunch at a place called Kozy and I had never had French toast that horrible. It was amusing that anyone could ruin banana bread but yes they could and they did. We then went to Shakespeare store where some moron asked me (only me) to not record or take pictures. Yes, there were signs to that effect but somehow he felt the need to only look at ME and say that. Yes, there was a line. Maybe that's why the locals were angry all the time (lol) because seeing your town swamped with strangers every single day can't be fun. Anyway, the place is a tourist trap because it was wildly expensive. At the store, we went upstairs where there was chair, piano, and even bed for people to rest. There was a board filled with notes from strangers and it was soo touching. Notes to and from lovers, notes about people traveling but missing their moms, notes about former lovers. The most poignant! Then we went to a souvenir shop across the road, bought things and yes this man was nice. But again he wasn’t Parisian.
A story I told in the earlier version (that got deleted): An Uber driver we called stopped midway through our journey and spoke some confusing French to get us flustered. Apparently, he was asking us to come down from the car. He said it twice. And then later spoke English to say a delivery van in front stopped to unload and would we want to get down rather than wait. He could speak English VERY well but chose to deliberately confuse us with French. We said we would wait. If you want to ask a favor, learn to be nice. They were gruff, disrespectful. When you speak French, they get angry at your poor attempt. Then when you speak English, they are irritated you don’t speak French. It was rough.
Most people had a hostility towards tourists that [forget what I said above about seeing strangers all the time] made no sense for a city that derives such huge revenue from tourists and tourism. At least in London, there wasn’t an inherent expectation of tips. Sure that happens in America, but at least the wait people are nice or pretend to be nice. I know we all complain about the superficial friendliness of Americans. But I’ll take that over hostility. Literally all Uber drivers sucked: Angry. Combative. Sullen. It just made no sense.
Anyway, after the souvenir store, we went to another place nearby to buy some art.
Then we went to Notre Dame; not inside obviously, but the environs made such a beautiful scenery for pictures. The cold, OMG. Then we had some crepes from a street food vendor and he actually was really pleasant. Yeah, you guessed right; he was not French. We then went to the Eiffel Tower. It was every bit as magnificent and historical as expected. We took so many pictures. So so many. We then walked walked around for a while. Then headed back to the hotel.
At the hotel, I took a nap while my sister figured out dinner. Then we went to dinner at a place called Shabestan. And the lamb chops was really really nice so much that we ordered seconds to go. The lamb filet was bland. We finished dinner and decided to walk the 20 minutes back to the hotel. On our way we found what looked like a grocery store and one thing about me, I love love grocery stores and so whenever I’m at a new place I always want to see where people shop for food. How they shop. What they shop. So we entered. It looked like a Target? The entire upstairs section was groceries and food. The downstairs section was filled with clothes, toiletries, make up, perfume. Anyway we left and started walking back and saw residential places (I also love to see where people live). Rain started to fall, so we stood for a while under a shade. And walked back home when it subsided.
A perfect last night in Paris.
That said, Parisians, do better.
Day 4:
Our last day in Paris. We first went to a place called Partage for breakfast. We wanted croissant because where else to have croissants than in Paris, right? They didn’t have. They had scones and we got that and then Capucinno and then hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was bad. But the scones were perfect. We sat for a while and people-watched, read, and some chit chat. [Insert to add my sister is the PERFECT travel companion. No matter what happens, she just sees it as an adventure and keeps moving. What an ideal approach to life. I can honestly say she generally approaches life the same way.] As we enjoyed the PERFECT morning in Paris in a picturesque cafe, we saw a boutique from across the road that we planned to check out, and of course, it crazy expensive for the quality being offered.
So we left and headed back back to the hotel, got our things and started to the train station. As luck would have it, our driver was sooo lovely (I even ended up tipping him). The station was freezing. The theme of this entire trip was cold. There were literally no indoor area in the station. We found a Burrito place just so we could get some warmth. And even that was cold. Luckily no delays. Thank God! Our train took off on time. After an hour and 19 minutes, we were in Brussels!
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