Monday, March 28, 2011

Paris

I spent this weekend in the city of lights. We arrived around 3pm on Friday, took the Ryanair bus into town, and took a cab to our hotel. I knew from the second we got out of the bus station area, which was still gorgeous for a bus station area, that we were in business.

Our hotel was situated northeast from the main tourist attractions (Eiffel Tower, etc) but was very untouristy and felt like we were in the midst of real Parisian life. Here is the square that our hotel was on:



The first thing we did when we arrived and had settled down was, naturally, eat. Our first meal in Paris was beautiful, and delicious, and nourishing, but we felt like blundering American weirdos trying to order it. I had no idea how little French I actually did not know. Somehow, with the patience and help of the waiter (everyone we interacted with was incredibly nice, despite our butchering their language) we ordered this beautiful meal: 



A chicken (freshly roasted, plucked off the bone, dripping with juices and covered in crispy skin), mayonnaise (something totally unrelated to American "mayo"--spiced, delicious, saucy, perfect), tomato, and lettuce sandwich on the perfect chewy insides crunchy outsides baguette. 

Thus fortified, we walked through the streets, meandering up to the Sacré-Cœur Basilica. It was beautiful. 


We went inside during a Mass, which was strangely allowed, and got to hear some actual organ music that shook the whole building and made everything seem very powerful and meaningful. This was a nice change, since some Cathedrals pipe in corny choral tunes to appease the tourists and annoy snobs like me. We saw nuns actually sitting in the wooden choir seats that I have never actually seen used in a cathedral, and heard part of a French service. It was a lovely experience. When we travelled to the front, we were in for another surprise. 


There is a gorgeous park/step combination where people go to see a beautiful view of the city, eat, drink, and relax. After the basilica we wandered around at night, following the beacon/spotlight on the top of the eiffel tower. We eventually realized the beacon was just as bright from every spot and had to give up and take a train (probably saved us 3 hours of wandering). 




One of the reasons that Paris feels so cool, and it does, is the confidence the city seems to have about itself. For example, look at that Metro sign. It's so cool! Instead of the typical "M" signage, they dress up their metro stations with a cool, creepy font and eery lighting.



The area surrounding the Eiffel Tower, as you can imagine, is full of tourists and strange men throwing these strange "light balls" and motorized helicopters into the air to try and tempt you to buy something. Once you make it through that mess, the area directly under the tower is actually peaceful, and looking up through the metal is very impressive. The line to take the elevator all the way to the top was insanely long, so Abigail and I decided to tough it out and take the stairs. We waited in line for about 20 minutes, which was agonizing for me. It was like waiting to run the mile in high school, or the dreaded morning of a middle school "field day." We purchased our tickets, I practicing deep breathing to expand my lungs for the assault they were about to endure, and handed them to the guard. It turns out, we only had to take the stairs to level 2, still about 650+ steps according to the little markers they paint on the sides of the steps to keep people motivated. It was quite a haul, and by the time we reached the 2nd level I was sweaty and agitated, but there was a since of comraderie among all of us "climbers" and pretty soon afterwards the endorphins kicked in, just in time for the top. 

Unfortunately none of my pictures really turned out from the top of the tower because it was so dark, but it was gorgeous. We could see the palace, the Louvre, the Arc. It was lovely

The next morning we set out early for something I had my heart set on since I booked my ticket to Paris: Versailles. 


I really never figured out how to take pictures of the palace, its chapel, its grounds, its other smaller palaces that do any of it any justice at all. Everything is too large, too intricate, too overwhelming to capture in in a couple of pictures. But here it goes:


This is the front gate. I like to imagine it is totally, pure gold but it is probably plated.


Here is the best picture I got of the Hall of Mirrors! I was so excited to go into this room after learning about it in high school and then seeing it portrayed in all sorts of movies, history channel shows, etc. It was gorgeous. One wall totally lined with floor to ceiling mirrors and the other wall completely composed of floor to ceiling windows. Unfortunately, going to Versailles on a Saturday morning meant unbelievable crowds. We were initially impressed when our tickets said "free audio guide" and stood in line to get ours like the nerdy yuppies we are. We didn't realize, however, that everyone else in the entire palace would have the same idea, and would stop in the middle of each room to listen to their tours. We literally had to beat past tour groups, idling audio-guiders, and masses of humanity to get through most of the rooms.

It was a relief to get out to the grounds.


Everything was lovely and manicured. The estate, I had no idea before I visited, is unbelievably huge. It is a sprawling compound, complete with the main palace, a farm, two "lesser" palaces, mazes, a lake, orchards, etc etc. We really could have spent a whole day exploring either the palace or the grounds alone. 




I really loved this fountain because it was weird and whimsical and it really feels like they are coming out of the water. It is also particularly cool at this point in history since Atlantis was just discovered. What a coinkydink!

They had a really good restaurant there (French touristy food is the best I have tasted in my life) and we walked all the way out past a pasture with sheep to Marie Antoinette's "play" country house. 


It was huge and beautiful. I understand why she would like to spend time there, though, as the actual palace of Versailles is so ornate and opulent that a nice stone building seems like mind-clearing minimalism. 

Right next door was another mini-palace that several of the Louis used to escape from their lives at the big palace as well. 


The marble was a really pretty pink and white mixture, and through those arches are more and more gardens and lakes that are all perfectly planned out and symmetrical and lovely. 


Here my friend Abigail and I took a picture in one of our favorite rooms in the Louis' mini-palace.

When we got back to the city proper, we were famished and had to stop for a classic Crêpe. I got simple, but fabulous beyond belief, butter and sugar. It was delicious.


We then spent time walking around the city, making our way to the Louvre, the river, and Notre Dame.


The beautiful behemoth, the Louvre, is beyond incredible. This picture just shows a pretty view of it from the back, and does no justice to its immensity or impressiveness. There are rows of beautiful bridges like this one across the river and they make a gorgeous walk.


Notre Dame was full of tourists but very pretty. It had gorgeous stained glass windows and you could see the famous gargoyles leering at you from the very tops of the towers. Inside it was gorgeous and had lots of shimmering candles,


That night we had a dinner to remember. Abigail and I had spotted a cute street the night before and pegged it as "the one." We chose a restaurant that was small, cozy (we were sharing booths/longish tables with Italians, French, and Germans) and had excellent, excellent, excellent food. I was on the brink of ordering salmon, which I'm sure would have been delicious, when Abigail said "I am getting a rare steak with Roquefort sauce." So naturally, after that, I had to get one too. It was life changing. The beef was tender and perfectly rare. The sauce felt like butter, Roquefort, and oozing steak juices had decided to join together and make a better world for some lucky diner. It came with real potatoes au gratin that were salty and creamy and cheesy, and a sort of creamed corn mousse. We intentionally took over two hours to eat this meal and drink a bottle of red wine (we just pointed and smiled at the wine list seeing as we had no idea what we were doing) and it was fabulous. I wanted to take a picture of the food but didn't want to be that American taking a picture of her food in such a nice restaurant. So I will just have to remember it. 

The next day Abigail and I parted ways. She wanted to spend extra time at the Louvre and I wanted to squeeze in the Le Père Lachaise cemetery where Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison, Frederic Chopin, and a billion other people are buried. It was the perfect kind of day for a cemetery, partly cloudy and hazy--brisk, and the park itself was gorgeous. 

It was full of weird/quirky/dumpy looking gravestones and tombs. This one was my favorite. The amorphous blob with a vase on top. 





Here is Jim Morrison's grave: 


Apparently there is a tradition that you drink beer/pour some on his grave when you come to visit. It was around 10 in the morning and some girls (much, much, much) younger than me were doing this.


There was also this tree by Morrison's grave that was decorated  with lyrics and some creepy groupy professions of love. 

Here is Chopin's grave, very tasteful: 


And finally the Pièce de résistance...




I didn't end up kissing it, even though I did bring lipstick just in case I felt moved when I was there.

I met Abigail at the Louvre before we left, another stunning locale.






And it was with heavy hearts that we clambered back onto a Ryanair bus to the airport. I fell in love with Paris, like everyone else in their right mind who visits, and cannot wait to go back.

1 comment:

  1. So maybe you'll go again over Spring Break...do you have any time. This was the best blog ever. Thank you so much for sharing with us!

    I remember Paris very differently, but just as fondly.

    ReplyDelete