Man is not meant to be confined in an awkward position for 9 hours. I do not care how many episodes of Friends they show you, it just plane (pun intended) stinks. Luckily we all slept a bit so the 9 hours went by just like 9 hours.
Our plane took off late so when we got to the ATL we were running around like headless chickens trying to get through customs and get to our gate. The beauty of the whole thing is there are no screens in the customs area to tell you about your connecting flight. So after running around like idiots we get out of customs to find our flight delayed an hour. Apparently a cloud came near Atlanta and Delta grounded all flights. So we waited at the airport with the 8 billion other people whose flights were delayed or canceled. We finally got on our overbooked flight and headed for home.
Our plane pulled up to the closest gate to baggage claim at JIA. This is a bad sign. Your wait at baggage is inversely proportional to the proximity of your plane to baggage claim. This does not include the 35 minute prerequisite waiting period. So after about 50 minutes our bags finally came. I am pretty sure this was a new speed record for them. Unions sure are great!
Humidity. Paper-mill. Perpetual construction. Jacksonville.
Home.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Paris - Day 8
Pictures
Today was our last full day in Paris. Which was very depressing considering the week we had. But even more depressing to think that we would soon be crammed into an aluminum tube like sardines that was being hurled across the ocean. Except this time the hurling was going to take 9 hours instead of 8. Damned jet stream.
We started off the day by going to the Musee d'Orsay. As we got of the metro we encountered the smartest bum in all of Paris. One thing the Parisians are famous for is not putting a sign on anything. If you were from Mars and had never heard of the Eiffel tower you could wander around Paris for days looking for it cause their aren't any signs for it. Seriously people! Would it kill ya to throw up a sign or two. Anyway, as we come up to the street from the Metro we start looking for the sign to the Musee d'Orsay, as if this was the one place in Paris that actually had a sign, this bum says in perfect English, "Mussee d'Orsay? Two blocks down on your right". Is this guy a genius or what? Obviously he got a Euro for his display of outright capitalist ingenuity. I think Ayn Rand is smiling somewhere.
There is a trick to the Musee d'Orsay. Get a museum pass and get there when it opens. If you have the pass you get to skip the hordes that line up at the main door. In fact it was the 4 of us and 2 other women waiting in the museum pass line. Once you get in go straight to the 5th floor, where the Impressionists are and you will have the place all to yourself. Just you, Van Gogh and the security guard babbling on his cell phone about the date he had last night. Once he hung up I stood in silence and stared at Edgar Degas's Absinthe Drinker. I swear I could taste the wormwood as it melted my mind and transported me to...... enter loud Japanese tour group... exit absinthe fantasy. Regardless it is truly awesome to be alone with such great works of art.
We headed back to the apartment and M & K headed up to Sacre Coeur. J and I decided to stop and eat. There is a chain restaurant in Paris called Hippopotamus. They are everywhere. You sometimes get the feeling you are being stalked by a Hippo (maybe that was just an absinthe flashback, but it felt real). We decided we must try it. I mean after all it is named after the most delicious animal we humans consume, right? Seriously, how could you avoid a restaurant named Hippopotamus. Well it turns out the Hippo is like a Chili's with out all that crap on the walls (where do they get all that crap anyway). But it is pretty good if you are getting tired of exquisite French food, which we were not. You cant win them all.
After lunch we headed up Rue Raspail in search of the Catacombs. This is the one thing I have been waiting to see. So we walk to where our book says they are, but they aren't there. So the great search begins. We are walking around this traffic circle looking for a sign (Ha Ha Ha) or something to lead us into the right direction. No one in the area seems to know either. I mean, come on people, it is the catacombs, one of the most famous sights in all of Paris. J finally finds a nice old woman who points us in the right direction. So we go over to the entrance, which is just a green door on the side of a building, and there on a white piece of letter paper is printed the words Catacombs Closed. We finally find a sign and it says closed. It doesn't give us any reason why they are closed or when the might be open, just closed. But at least we got a sign. Beggars can't be choosers.
J and I walked around the neighborhood until it was time to meet M and K at the apartment. We were meeting up with some friends for dinner who were staying at the Ritz. This was great since the Ritz was on our list of things to see. This place is a must. It is no Ritz-Carlton it is the real deal. This place has the bar that Hemingway personally liberated during the war. It is also the place that Princess Diana was leaving on that fateful night. In fact the Bloody Mary was invented in the Hemingway Bar. If you do go to the Ritz bring your wallet, or better yet bring a friends wallet, cause a drink will set you back 38 Euros. After we drank the GDP of a small African nation we headed off to dinner.
For our final dinner we chose Le Vaudeville. It was highly recommended in several books, especially in one of Ina's books. So J and K were dying to go there. We were promptly sat, which is always a risk while traveling as Americans. Then they sat this young Italian couple next to us. When the waiter came back by the Italians asked in English if they could be moved to a different table and shot some darts our way. And people say the french are rude. Luckily for us the waiter said no and they were forced to endure us all night. After a while we noticed that K and our friend N had been gone for a long time. We thought they had headed to the restroom but they had been gone a long time. I started worrying that maybe the Italians had gotten them. Turns out they just couldn't figure out how to operate the sink. In an effort to avoid technology the French do not use infrared sensors on their sinks. Instead they have pedals on the floor that operate the faucet. Brilliant! Except that is the same thing that my Vet uses after he sticks his hand in my dogs rear. That pretty much sums up Le Vaudeville. It is kinda like going to the vet, it is not a bad experience until you get the bill.
Metro home and off to sleep.
CE
Today was our last full day in Paris. Which was very depressing considering the week we had. But even more depressing to think that we would soon be crammed into an aluminum tube like sardines that was being hurled across the ocean. Except this time the hurling was going to take 9 hours instead of 8. Damned jet stream.
We started off the day by going to the Musee d'Orsay. As we got of the metro we encountered the smartest bum in all of Paris. One thing the Parisians are famous for is not putting a sign on anything. If you were from Mars and had never heard of the Eiffel tower you could wander around Paris for days looking for it cause their aren't any signs for it. Seriously people! Would it kill ya to throw up a sign or two. Anyway, as we come up to the street from the Metro we start looking for the sign to the Musee d'Orsay, as if this was the one place in Paris that actually had a sign, this bum says in perfect English, "Mussee d'Orsay? Two blocks down on your right". Is this guy a genius or what? Obviously he got a Euro for his display of outright capitalist ingenuity. I think Ayn Rand is smiling somewhere.
There is a trick to the Musee d'Orsay. Get a museum pass and get there when it opens. If you have the pass you get to skip the hordes that line up at the main door. In fact it was the 4 of us and 2 other women waiting in the museum pass line. Once you get in go straight to the 5th floor, where the Impressionists are and you will have the place all to yourself. Just you, Van Gogh and the security guard babbling on his cell phone about the date he had last night. Once he hung up I stood in silence and stared at Edgar Degas's Absinthe Drinker. I swear I could taste the wormwood as it melted my mind and transported me to...... enter loud Japanese tour group... exit absinthe fantasy. Regardless it is truly awesome to be alone with such great works of art.
We headed back to the apartment and M & K headed up to Sacre Coeur. J and I decided to stop and eat. There is a chain restaurant in Paris called Hippopotamus. They are everywhere. You sometimes get the feeling you are being stalked by a Hippo (maybe that was just an absinthe flashback, but it felt real). We decided we must try it. I mean after all it is named after the most delicious animal we humans consume, right? Seriously, how could you avoid a restaurant named Hippopotamus. Well it turns out the Hippo is like a Chili's with out all that crap on the walls (where do they get all that crap anyway). But it is pretty good if you are getting tired of exquisite French food, which we were not. You cant win them all.
After lunch we headed up Rue Raspail in search of the Catacombs. This is the one thing I have been waiting to see. So we walk to where our book says they are, but they aren't there. So the great search begins. We are walking around this traffic circle looking for a sign (Ha Ha Ha) or something to lead us into the right direction. No one in the area seems to know either. I mean, come on people, it is the catacombs, one of the most famous sights in all of Paris. J finally finds a nice old woman who points us in the right direction. So we go over to the entrance, which is just a green door on the side of a building, and there on a white piece of letter paper is printed the words Catacombs Closed. We finally find a sign and it says closed. It doesn't give us any reason why they are closed or when the might be open, just closed. But at least we got a sign. Beggars can't be choosers.
J and I walked around the neighborhood until it was time to meet M and K at the apartment. We were meeting up with some friends for dinner who were staying at the Ritz. This was great since the Ritz was on our list of things to see. This place is a must. It is no Ritz-Carlton it is the real deal. This place has the bar that Hemingway personally liberated during the war. It is also the place that Princess Diana was leaving on that fateful night. In fact the Bloody Mary was invented in the Hemingway Bar. If you do go to the Ritz bring your wallet, or better yet bring a friends wallet, cause a drink will set you back 38 Euros. After we drank the GDP of a small African nation we headed off to dinner.
For our final dinner we chose Le Vaudeville. It was highly recommended in several books, especially in one of Ina's books. So J and K were dying to go there. We were promptly sat, which is always a risk while traveling as Americans. Then they sat this young Italian couple next to us. When the waiter came back by the Italians asked in English if they could be moved to a different table and shot some darts our way. And people say the french are rude. Luckily for us the waiter said no and they were forced to endure us all night. After a while we noticed that K and our friend N had been gone for a long time. We thought they had headed to the restroom but they had been gone a long time. I started worrying that maybe the Italians had gotten them. Turns out they just couldn't figure out how to operate the sink. In an effort to avoid technology the French do not use infrared sensors on their sinks. Instead they have pedals on the floor that operate the faucet. Brilliant! Except that is the same thing that my Vet uses after he sticks his hand in my dogs rear. That pretty much sums up Le Vaudeville. It is kinda like going to the vet, it is not a bad experience until you get the bill.
Metro home and off to sleep.
CE
Monday, April 7, 2008
Paris - Day 7
Photographs.
Today was the meltdown day. The day where everything goes wrong. The day where you hate everyone. The day where you hate everything.
We got a late start today (I am not going to say that the girls were the reason but let's just say the girls were the reason) and decided our first priority would be lunch. We had selected Chez George. We had called for dinner reservations the night before but they were booked. They told us lunch was usually easier and to call in the morning. So we called in the morning and the line was busy. We waited and called again, busy. Usually a sign that a lot of people are trying to eat there. Us being the strong willed Americans that we are, ignored this busy line. Perhaps the French telecommunications people were on strike? Hell the whole country could have been on strike but how would we know. Then we did what any true Americans would do, we struck out for Chez George. And we did it without taking the address or the phone number. All we knew was the metro stop. So after wandering around the 2nd arrondissement for 1.5 hours we finally found it. And guess what, No Table For You. Ahghhhh!
In our anger M and I decide we will protest by walking to Ile de la Cite to see La Sainte Chapelle. Why stop and eat when you can be mad and walk 2 miles. So we arrive at Sainte Chapelle to find it is closed for lunch. Ahghhhh! Who ever heard of a Church closing for lunch? Were the pews hungry? Did the baptismal font need a refill? But the line is growing so we decide to stay in line rather than risk losing our place. So there we are standing line growing hungrier and angrier by the second. Finally they open back up and we go to get our tickets, still fuming and a little weak from hunger.
Let me just say that God has a sense of humor. Walking into St. Chapelle is like walking into heaven. The stained glass is so amazing that it literally will take your breath away. It is also cures bad moods, anger, and strangely enough hunger. St. Chapelle is with out a doubt the most beautiful space in all of Paris and possibly in the world.
After being dazzled for an hour or so we all walked around the Latin Quarter's tiny streets looking for food. I found a hot dog vendor that sold dogs covered in cheese, sounds good right? Wrong. It was disgusting. Memories of Chez Ferdenand came flooding back. M and I ended up at a gyro shop and it was good, except for the guy behind the counter was cutting the meat with a knife that he was also using to try and fix his cell phone. Fitting.
Everyone decided to go there own ways for the afternoon. J went to the apartment to take a nap (surprised?), M and K went out in search of St Denis, which is where the French monarchs were buried, and I decided to walk around Montparnasse. I wandered down to the Luxembourg gardens and watched a group of men play petanque, or what would call bocce. I sat under a Plane Tree in an old chair right beside the court and watched them play for about an hour. It was defiantly one of the highlights of the trip.
For dinner we dined at a Hemingway favorite, which happens to also be across for the apartment, called La Rotonde. Papa immortalized the place in The Sun Also Rises saying "No matter what cafe in Montparnasse you ask a taxi driver to bring you to from the right bank of the river, they always take you to the Rotonde." The food is great and the atmosphere truly Parisian. A must if you are in the area.
CE
Today was the meltdown day. The day where everything goes wrong. The day where you hate everyone. The day where you hate everything.
We got a late start today (I am not going to say that the girls were the reason but let's just say the girls were the reason) and decided our first priority would be lunch. We had selected Chez George. We had called for dinner reservations the night before but they were booked. They told us lunch was usually easier and to call in the morning. So we called in the morning and the line was busy. We waited and called again, busy. Usually a sign that a lot of people are trying to eat there. Us being the strong willed Americans that we are, ignored this busy line. Perhaps the French telecommunications people were on strike? Hell the whole country could have been on strike but how would we know. Then we did what any true Americans would do, we struck out for Chez George. And we did it without taking the address or the phone number. All we knew was the metro stop. So after wandering around the 2nd arrondissement for 1.5 hours we finally found it. And guess what, No Table For You. Ahghhhh!
In our anger M and I decide we will protest by walking to Ile de la Cite to see La Sainte Chapelle. Why stop and eat when you can be mad and walk 2 miles. So we arrive at Sainte Chapelle to find it is closed for lunch. Ahghhhh! Who ever heard of a Church closing for lunch? Were the pews hungry? Did the baptismal font need a refill? But the line is growing so we decide to stay in line rather than risk losing our place. So there we are standing line growing hungrier and angrier by the second. Finally they open back up and we go to get our tickets, still fuming and a little weak from hunger.
Let me just say that God has a sense of humor. Walking into St. Chapelle is like walking into heaven. The stained glass is so amazing that it literally will take your breath away. It is also cures bad moods, anger, and strangely enough hunger. St. Chapelle is with out a doubt the most beautiful space in all of Paris and possibly in the world.
After being dazzled for an hour or so we all walked around the Latin Quarter's tiny streets looking for food. I found a hot dog vendor that sold dogs covered in cheese, sounds good right? Wrong. It was disgusting. Memories of Chez Ferdenand came flooding back. M and I ended up at a gyro shop and it was good, except for the guy behind the counter was cutting the meat with a knife that he was also using to try and fix his cell phone. Fitting.
Everyone decided to go there own ways for the afternoon. J went to the apartment to take a nap (surprised?), M and K went out in search of St Denis, which is where the French monarchs were buried, and I decided to walk around Montparnasse. I wandered down to the Luxembourg gardens and watched a group of men play petanque, or what would call bocce. I sat under a Plane Tree in an old chair right beside the court and watched them play for about an hour. It was defiantly one of the highlights of the trip.
For dinner we dined at a Hemingway favorite, which happens to also be across for the apartment, called La Rotonde. Papa immortalized the place in The Sun Also Rises saying "No matter what cafe in Montparnasse you ask a taxi driver to bring you to from the right bank of the river, they always take you to the Rotonde." The food is great and the atmosphere truly Parisian. A must if you are in the area.
CE
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Paris - Day 6 - Part Deux
Today's activity was Versailles. M and K were back from up North, so the four of us headed out. Versailles is about 30 minutes west of Paris and is an easy train ride. The train ride is nice and it is neat to see life outside the city limits. Once we arrived in Versailles we headed toward the Chateau, but we were stopped dead in our tracks. [A little back story here, M is allergic to, well he is allergic to everything. I think he might even be allergic to the air, but his main irritants are food, mainly dairy. So in France it is somewhat hard for M to know if he will get to eat.] So, there in front of us, right there across form the train station was that bastion of French culture, McDonald's. I would venture to say that there are more McDonald's in Paris than in the whole State of Florida. And if you think getting a reservation at Taillevent is hard, try making your way through the line at the McDonald's on Blvd. Raspail. So right there 500 meters away form the most opulent Chateau in the whole world the four of us sat down at a Mickey D's. I am here to tell you that a Royal with Cheeses is a damn good burger. Thank God for American capitalism.
After dining on the nectar of the God's we walked along the Plane Tree lined path to Versailles. I am not one for revolution and I generally feel that Monarchies are a cool form of government (as long as I don't have to live under one), but after seeing Versailles I can understand why the French got a little ticked off. The place is absolutely amazing. The place is so big it has it's own church in it, which of course they call a chapel, but trust me it is probably bigger than the church you go to. The hall of mirrors is unbelievable and when you look out on the gardens you think you are looking at some kind of Hollywood set, it is all almost to beautiful to be real.
The best part of Versailles was our tour guide. This guy was more French than the most French Frenchman in all of France. This guy looked exactly like the museum curator in Ghostbusters II and he kept referring to the Kings of Versailles and their Court as his ancestors. At the end of the tour he said in his ultra thick accent (as if to get a dig at us) that the reason there was a French Revolution was that King Louis had spent all of France's money bailing out America. It was then that I didn't feel so bitter about losing a war in 1865.
We took the train back into town and got ready for dinner. We had reservations (a must in Paris) at a place called Benoit. This place was French Cuisine at it's finest. I tried to get M to order Tete-de-Veau, but he was skeptical, and our English speaking waiter explained to him what it was. We had a great meal and bonded with the two French couples siting next to us (which in American terms means right on top of us) over our distaste of this loud fat obnoxious American salesman sitting at a table behind us.
Everyone filled up on great food and great wine and we then headed out to the famous Moulin Rouge for the 11:00 show. What a great show. It is a mix between a broadway show, Cirque du Soleil, a comedy routine, and a topless bar. Possibly one of the best nights out one can ever have.
CE
After dining on the nectar of the God's we walked along the Plane Tree lined path to Versailles. I am not one for revolution and I generally feel that Monarchies are a cool form of government (as long as I don't have to live under one), but after seeing Versailles I can understand why the French got a little ticked off. The place is absolutely amazing. The place is so big it has it's own church in it, which of course they call a chapel, but trust me it is probably bigger than the church you go to. The hall of mirrors is unbelievable and when you look out on the gardens you think you are looking at some kind of Hollywood set, it is all almost to beautiful to be real.
The best part of Versailles was our tour guide. This guy was more French than the most French Frenchman in all of France. This guy looked exactly like the museum curator in Ghostbusters II and he kept referring to the Kings of Versailles and their Court as his ancestors. At the end of the tour he said in his ultra thick accent (as if to get a dig at us) that the reason there was a French Revolution was that King Louis had spent all of France's money bailing out America. It was then that I didn't feel so bitter about losing a war in 1865.
We took the train back into town and got ready for dinner. We had reservations (a must in Paris) at a place called Benoit. This place was French Cuisine at it's finest. I tried to get M to order Tete-de-Veau, but he was skeptical, and our English speaking waiter explained to him what it was. We had a great meal and bonded with the two French couples siting next to us (which in American terms means right on top of us) over our distaste of this loud fat obnoxious American salesman sitting at a table behind us.
Everyone filled up on great food and great wine and we then headed out to the famous Moulin Rouge for the 11:00 show. What a great show. It is a mix between a broadway show, Cirque du Soleil, a comedy routine, and a topless bar. Possibly one of the best nights out one can ever have.
CE
Friday, April 4, 2008
Paris - Day 6
Pictures
We woke up and got ready for our day. We went to Versailles which is a 30 minute train ride outside of Paris. It's a beautiful castle with amazing gardens. We purchased a guided tour which didn't start until 2pm. So, we spent 3 hours walking around the castle with headphones on, 1 1/2 hours on a tour of the back chamber of the king and queen and then 1/2 hour walking around the gardens. Unfortunately, the flowers are not planted yet, but the mazes of boxwood's and the fountains are so beautiful. It was such an amazing place, but we were exhausted and didn't get home until almost 6pm.
Then, we had to rush to get ready to make our dinner reservation (at Benoit, this famous and fabulous restaurant) across town (i had to carry my high heels in my purse) ; we had a 11:00 pm reservation to see Moulin Rouge, the most famous cabaret since the late 1800's. I didn't realize until right before the show that the women are topless, that was interesting. The show was really fantastic and the head dresses and costumes were amazing, however, we didn't get home until 2pm.
KA
Then, we had to rush to get ready to make our dinner reservation (at Benoit, this famous and fabulous restaurant) across town (i had to carry my high heels in my purse) ; we had a 11:00 pm reservation to see Moulin Rouge, the most famous cabaret since the late 1800's. I didn't realize until right before the show that the women are topless, that was interesting. The show was really fantastic and the head dresses and costumes were amazing, however, we didn't get home until 2pm.
KA
M and K Go To Normandy
Well we made it back from our big adventure around France! We renteded our car at Charles Degualle airport and it took us for every to find Hertz at the airport. The French do not believe in having clearly marked signs anywhere!! Once we got the car we had to wait till they could find one with GPS and we ended up getting upgraded to a Mercedes (best part was it was an automatic) with GPS. We plugged in our location (Mont Saint Michel) and off we drove. We got there by the afternoon (3.5 hr drive) and had time to walk around the town, cathedral and even out in the tidal basin around the Mont. This place is hard to describe in words, but is truly a world wonder. We sepnt the night in a little hotel (built in 1888) in the village and had a nice dinner. K ordered one of their famous omletes (they only serve them for lunch and dinner) for dessert. These omelets are made with six eggs and cooked over an wood fire.
We then woke up early the next day and drove to the Normandy Coast. I avoided the highways and drove back country roads to see the small French Towns. This was really cool, but seeing D-day was hard to describe. It was an great day and we went to all the main parts of D-day. We then drove back to Paris and decided to return the car to the train station in paris to avoid the huge airport. This was a huge feat since I now had to navigate Paris traffic and almost had to circle the Arc de Triumph (12 lane of traffic going around a circle).
K did great during the trip. We drove 900km over two days and K slept for 880km of the trip. I would wake her up for the cool sights.
MA
We then woke up early the next day and drove to the Normandy Coast. I avoided the highways and drove back country roads to see the small French Towns. This was really cool, but seeing D-day was hard to describe. It was an great day and we went to all the main parts of D-day. We then drove back to Paris and decided to return the car to the train station in paris to avoid the huge airport. This was a huge feat since I now had to navigate Paris traffic and almost had to circle the Arc de Triumph (12 lane of traffic going around a circle).
K did great during the trip. We drove 900km over two days and K slept for 880km of the trip. I would wake her up for the cool sights.
MA
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Paris - Day 5
Day two without M and K. So we did a little more sleeping in. I see a pattern here.
Finally we got motivated to eat. We went to a restaurant recommended by our good friends the Shewbrooks called Beauvilliers. We each had the fixe-prix menu.
J had:
La salade de Petits Gris légèrement Crémés au Cerfeuil
"Vitelottes et Charlotte au Jus de Volaiile"
L'onglet de Veau au Sautoir
"Confits d'Echalottes, Jus de Rôtis Beurre Noisettes"
Le Fondant au Chocolat
"Crème Glacée au Basilic"
C had:
Les Frites de Cochon Croustillantes au Poivre Long
"Vichyssoise de Topinambour"
Struite de Pleine Mer étuvée à l'Ail Doux et Choux Fleur
"Croûte de Tomme au Cantal"
Le Fondant au Chocolat
"Crème Glacée au Basilic"
Since we have no idea what all that means, I can just tell you that it was just about the best damn meal I have ever had. I don't know how they do it but the French can sure cook the dickens out of some food. If they fought like they cook they would control the world.
From here we went up to Sacre-Couer. When I say up I mean up. The stairs to get up this hill rival those of Notre Dame. But it is worth it when you finally reach the top. The church is beautiful and the people are much more respectful here than at Notre Dame. While the church is a sight to see the real spectacle is the square across from the church. It is a haven for the starving artist. As you walk up there two or four men with sketch pads come running at you wanting to sketch you. We were saying Non! Non! but they keep coming. I am used to this, having to fend of the hordes of female admirers has become a way of life for me. However, J is not used to this kind of attention and was a little freaked out. Regardless we bought some good art and had a grand time watching the vultures swooping around the tourists.
Tired from walking up and down Montemarte, J and I grabbed some pizza. But once again the French amazed me by putting an egg on my pizza, which was actually quite good. These bastards are damned creative.
Adieu
CE
Pictures from Montmarte.
Finally we got motivated to eat. We went to a restaurant recommended by our good friends the Shewbrooks called Beauvilliers. We each had the fixe-prix menu.
J had:
La salade de Petits Gris légèrement Crémés au Cerfeuil
"Vitelottes et Charlotte au Jus de Volaiile"
L'onglet de Veau au Sautoir
"Confits d'Echalottes, Jus de Rôtis Beurre Noisettes"
Le Fondant au Chocolat
"Crème Glacée au Basilic"
C had:
Les Frites de Cochon Croustillantes au Poivre Long
"Vichyssoise de Topinambour"
Struite de Pleine Mer étuvée à l'Ail Doux et Choux Fleur
"Croûte de Tomme au Cantal"
Le Fondant au Chocolat
"Crème Glacée au Basilic"
Since we have no idea what all that means, I can just tell you that it was just about the best damn meal I have ever had. I don't know how they do it but the French can sure cook the dickens out of some food. If they fought like they cook they would control the world.
From here we went up to Sacre-Couer. When I say up I mean up. The stairs to get up this hill rival those of Notre Dame. But it is worth it when you finally reach the top. The church is beautiful and the people are much more respectful here than at Notre Dame. While the church is a sight to see the real spectacle is the square across from the church. It is a haven for the starving artist. As you walk up there two or four men with sketch pads come running at you wanting to sketch you. We were saying Non! Non! but they keep coming. I am used to this, having to fend of the hordes of female admirers has become a way of life for me. However, J is not used to this kind of attention and was a little freaked out. Regardless we bought some good art and had a grand time watching the vultures swooping around the tourists.
Tired from walking up and down Montemarte, J and I grabbed some pizza. But once again the French amazed me by putting an egg on my pizza, which was actually quite good. These bastards are damned creative.
Adieu
CE
Pictures from Montmarte.
Paris - Day 4
Pictures
M and K left this morning to drive to Le Mont Saint Michelle for the night. Then tomorrow they are going to do a trip through Normandy. That left J and I to do what we wanted. As you all know given the chance J and I will sleep as much as we possibly can. So that is exactly what we did. I have always thought the AM hours were overrated anyway.
We got out of the apartment a little after noon and headed down to Les Duex Magots in Saint-Germain-des-Prés for lunch. The food was wonderful and the wine even better. J and I split a salmon quiche and a goat cheese sandwich and washed it down with a bottle of Sancerre. You would have though I had been drinking before lunch because I left my camera back in the apartment. So we spent some more time on the Metro, which is always a treat when you get to stand next to that guy or girl that hasn't quite gotten around to their weekly bath.
Back in Saint-Germain-des-Prés we walked around and went in some of Ina Garten's (The Barefoot Contessa) favorite shops. Why you ask? Just look up the restraining order that Ina took out against J, it will explain it all.
After that we walked back up the hill to Montparnasse for some more sleeping. Can you ever really sleep too much?
Our dinner for the evening was at another location recommended by our friends the Shewbrooks called Le Soufflé. Can you guess what the serve at Le Soufflé? Thats right soufflé, but what you didn't know is that they serve it for every course of the meal. We started with soufflé fromage, and then rose into Soufflé King Henri IV, which involved chicken and mushroom, and we finished it off with a chocolate soufflé. One of the better meals ever. The chocolate soufflé was like nothing I have ever had. I just want to know what dude sat back in a kitchen and made a soufle and then put chocolate in it. It was probably an American but regardless my hat is off to him.
Fin
CE
M and K left this morning to drive to Le Mont Saint Michelle for the night. Then tomorrow they are going to do a trip through Normandy. That left J and I to do what we wanted. As you all know given the chance J and I will sleep as much as we possibly can. So that is exactly what we did. I have always thought the AM hours were overrated anyway.
We got out of the apartment a little after noon and headed down to Les Duex Magots in Saint-Germain-des-Prés for lunch. The food was wonderful and the wine even better. J and I split a salmon quiche and a goat cheese sandwich and washed it down with a bottle of Sancerre. You would have though I had been drinking before lunch because I left my camera back in the apartment. So we spent some more time on the Metro, which is always a treat when you get to stand next to that guy or girl that hasn't quite gotten around to their weekly bath.
Back in Saint-Germain-des-Prés we walked around and went in some of Ina Garten's (The Barefoot Contessa) favorite shops. Why you ask? Just look up the restraining order that Ina took out against J, it will explain it all.
After that we walked back up the hill to Montparnasse for some more sleeping. Can you ever really sleep too much?
Our dinner for the evening was at another location recommended by our friends the Shewbrooks called Le Soufflé. Can you guess what the serve at Le Soufflé? Thats right soufflé, but what you didn't know is that they serve it for every course of the meal. We started with soufflé fromage, and then rose into Soufflé King Henri IV, which involved chicken and mushroom, and we finished it off with a chocolate soufflé. One of the better meals ever. The chocolate soufflé was like nothing I have ever had. I just want to know what dude sat back in a kitchen and made a soufle and then put chocolate in it. It was probably an American but regardless my hat is off to him.
Fin
CE
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Paris - Day 3
We are having a blast here in Paris. Today, we woke up and left our amazing apartment to grab a "cafe au lait" before taking the metro to the Arc de Triumph. After heading to the top (via elevator) for a view of Paris, we walked down the Champs- Elysee to the Rue le Honore (expensive shopping), passed the American Embassy, to lunch at Cafe Ruc (recommended by our favorite Ina Garten of Barefoot Contessa) where we ate, drank wine, watched people pass by on their way to the Louvre and spoke French to those around us (well C and I tried). We then went to the Louvre for hours (Mona Lisa's eyes really do follow you) before walking to Place de la Concorde, home of the Egyptian oblelisk from Luxor, the oldest manmade structure in Paris (1200 B.C.). We took the metro toward home exhausted and tired.
Au revoir,
KA
Our pictures from Day 3 are here.
Au revoir,
KA
Our pictures from Day 3 are here.
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