This chambre d'hote was the best idee I have ever had. Instead of feeling like a stranger in a hotel of tourist dorks - I am the only guest in a beautiful Parisian home, and I feel like I am visiting two old friends. While I was dying to get out in the city, I couldn't resist sitting around the table parle-ing with them this morning. They are simply magnifique!
Didier was telling me stories of turning their home into the chambre d'hote, the various guests they have had, and the things they've learned about Paris from having a stream of visitors since July, when they began. We talked and laughed for an hour an a half while we filled our stomachs with the best of their local boulangerie.
Didier shared these amazing books with me that were his fathers. They look like you have stumbled upon some incredible artist's sketchbook. Each page is of a different street in Paris, and every corner is filled with gorgeous illustrations of the doors, the facades, the statues, and all the decorative marvels that make the architecture of Paris so special. They are called "Croquis Paris" by Albert Laprade. It belongs in Cartier, next to the clearest diamond there if you ask me. I could spend a whole day looking through it. I must get one for myself.
The highlight of our fun morning chat was definitely Didier telling me about the last American who stayed with them, a week or so ago. She was a photographer, and on the site of her shoot they had all kinds of little treats, so she brought something curious back to them from the set.
Out of the petit fridge, Didier pulls out two cupcakes topped with sparkly sprinkles on mounds of frosting. He is laughing hysterically, and proceeds to ask me exactly what they are because for the last week - they have had no idea.
I swear, this actually happened.
"Cupcakes," I said!
"Uh? Cup - a - cake," he replied? Looking at it like it was a Martian, and still laughing.
"Cake - it's a type of cake," I continued.
He proceeded, "Ahhh I just have realized that it is solid under the creme. But the decoration on top, its so - uh - how you say.... funny!"
The thought of these two adorable french people not knowing what a cupcake was and keeping them in the fridge for the past week because they enjoyed taking them out to giggle at was too much. I nearly fell out of my chaise I was laughing so hard. I remembered that frosting does not exist here, and neither do sprinkles. I found 1 cupcake the whole time I lived here, and it was in a tiny shop on a tiny street in the Marais.
So, I explained what frosting was - not a creme, but a un sort du creme du buerre which I thought was quite a brilliant explanation. I explained sprinkles, and that there was, in fact, cake underneath the creme du buerre, and the whole concoction was quite delicious - but not after a week. I told them how I love to bake, that I make cupcakes, and that the next time I come I will bring some with me so they can try it - the cake, the frosting, and the silly sprinkles too.
You can only imagine how it made my day. They are the cutest French people I have ever met.
When my stomach couldn't handle another bite or another cramp-inducing laugh, I headed out to Montmarte. The zillion steps up the Sacre Couer seemed to pass in a blink, and when I turned around after the hike, I got my reward: the most incroyable view of the entire city of Paris.
Sacre Coeur is my favorite of the famous cathedrales here. There is something so hauntingly beautiful about it, that I cannot resist sitting inside in front of the gold and royal blue mosaic altar and thanking God for Paris.
There was actually a mass going on when I entered, which was very special to see. I cannot imagine how cool it would be to have Sacre Coeur as your parish. I would convert to Catholicism for that!
When I finally said "au revoir" I traced my familiar path behind the church to the little square packed with real Parisian artists and their "oeuvres." There was also a little Marche du Noel that I wandered through and found a wonderful fruits sechees stand with samples of every fruits! I wish I had an apartment here to fill with things from the square in Montmarte, including a portrait of myself dressed as Marie Antionette lounging on some type of tufted, velour settee with a big plate of macarons. Kings and queens always commissioned enormous portraits of themselves, and why should I not aspire to live like a queen?
I eventually left Montmarte, empty handed, and headed to Opera for un peu de faire du shopping, and had the most bonne chance moment of my vie.
I found a dress that can only be described as every dream I've ever dreamed in tulle form . If I could have imagined and designed a dress that I would die for, it would have been this. Of course, it was chere , and I have no idea where I will wear it, but I knew, I had to have this dress. There was one, it was my size, it fit like a glove, it was fate.
I took it to the register - it was 50% off.
This dress may wait a lifetime to be worn. But when the occasion and moment are right - it is going to be une chose speciale.
So, happier than ever, I twirled and skipped through Galleries Layfayette, Printemps, and down le rue de la Paix until I reunited with an old friend: les velibs.
Back on a velib - I really felt like I was home. It was the final piece of the back in Paris puzzle. The wind in my hair and the streets at my service, I rode through Place Vendome, past the Bourse, over the pont and ended in St. Michel, where I wandered down Rue Saint Andre des Arts until I realized it was 6 and I was starving.
One of my favorite cafes, Saint Severin, is just on the corner of the quartier latin, with a view of the Seine, Notre Dame, and les ponts - so I took a seat and ordered a tartine chevre chaud which quickly came on rustic, Polaine bread and sent me into a comma of cheesy delight.
I did as we Parisians do: sat there for longtime watching people pass by, drinking wine, and thinking, en francais, about how beautiful the city is.
I decided my musee du jour would be the Centre Pompidou, because I had only been there once before, and I have really gotten into Modern Art lately. Today was also the first Sunday of the month - so all the museums were free to everyone, not just us lucky ex-pats and young EUers.
The pompidou is not my favorite building - architecturally - I must admit. I hate to say anything mal about Paris but if I did have one petit bone to pick it would be that I think the building is hideous, as most Parisians do. But, the inside will blow you away. The rooms of Picasso's, Matisse's, and Kandinsky's masterpieces that make up the permanent collection swallow you whole, and you find yourself trapped inside the stomach of modern art and never wanting to get out.
But, eventually the museum guards kick you out. So, instead of getting to stay in the whale belly for 3 days, your visit is lucky to last 3 hours.
Are you following my very strange and stretched metaphors or are you totally confondu and wondering what in the monde I am going on about? I hope your situation is the former.
Alors, when I left the Pompidou I had one thought: the sparkling tour.
I grabbed another velib and rode all the way up Rue de Rivoli, riding through the Carosuel de Lovure and stopping to say hello and see the pyramid, and the Tulieries. I dropped off my bike once I hit the quai where I had a clear shot of the tour with just a few minutes until 10pm, and waited.
Now I am often stopped for directions by tourists - clearly because I am noticeably Parisian and look like I know what I am doing. So when I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned to find two friendly looking women - one older, one young, visibly not French, I figured they wanted to know something about the metro, or which way a certain rue was.
"Excuse me," the older one started, "but is that the Eiffel Tower," she asked, as she pointed at the huge, glowing, tower ahead.
I think my eyes bugged out of my head. I was shocked - and convinced it was some kind of joke. "Mais bien sur," I replied!
"Oh I thought so," she said, and turning to the younger one said "Yes - that's it. We've seen it."
........................ WHAT?!!??
I don't care if you are from Mars - the Eiffel Tower is the most recognized landmark in the world! And if you somehow missed that - it is also plastered all over every item, in every tourist shop, on every street in Paris! It is also the only enormous, glowing metal thing towering above the city, sparkling! Holy crepe, I couldn't believe it.
As I walked away, thinking about how stupide the people were, I also was insanely jealous of them, because they were seeing the Eiffel Tower for the very first time. I would give my left ear for the chance to experience the tour for the first time again. Which would actually be very Van Gogh of me.
But really, for me - every time is just as magical as the first time. Because like with any great love, feelings don't fade - they grow.
And so I found myself at the base of the tour again tonight, with a crepe Nutella this time, standing in the rain with mon parapluie and loving every insane minute of it. A perfect end to a perfect day.
Tomorrow I have to return to London, but for the first time, I am leaving my love, Paris, with the assurance that I will be back soon. It had been consistently 2 years between each of my previous visits - first in 2007, again in 2009, and now in 2011. But I think more like 2 months is accurate for the next time. I am turning 23 this Valentine's Day and I know of a boyfriend who loves this city almost as much as I do.
Alors, je peux dire, a bientot - mon amour, ma ville, ma Paris.
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