A Free Day in Paris (Saturday)

I’m sitting on the train out of Paris on day 3. We’ve had adventures and mishaps, unexpected discoveries and minor disappointments. It’s been a truly memorable vacation so far, but you’ll have to wait and learn about it in sequence. The last time I blogged we had finished the Friday night skate and I was ready to get to sleep, VERY late on Thursdayfriday. (We’ve still been too busy to relax much, and that means I haven’t gotten to share everyone’s pictures, but I expect that to change tomorrow. We leave the big city and spend some more relaxing time in the country, and I hope I’ll start SHOWING you what we’ve done, rather than just telling you about it!)

Even though I didn’t get to sleep until 3:30, I slept immediately, and like a log. I woke up around 9:15 wanting more sleep, but still refreshed. Half the group was already at breakfast when I got there, enjoying a full and varied buffet—cereal, orange juice, grapefruit juice (pamplemousse—love that word!), coffee, croissant, yogurt, hard boiled eggs, hard rolls, a beautiful fresh fruit salad…I’m sure I forgot a few things. The group (12 of us now in the hotel together) wandered in and out as some woke up later; some ate earlier and got cleaned up dressed. By 10:30 we were ready to head out.

Everyone had different things on their list of ‘must do’s’ for their one free day in Paris, and the only scheduled event wasn’t until 11 that night. Somehow we all agreed to head first to the Eiffel Tower. We wanted a picture together there as our ‘quintessential Paris memento’. Some were interested in climbing The Tower, but some just wanted to gather there and then split up for separate adventures.

We all made it through the Metro ticket-buying experience (un Carnet, s’il vous plait), and more importantly, the ticket USING process! A few stops down the light green number 6 line (in the direction Charles de Gaulle –Etoile) and we were out on the streets of Paris. This was my third trip to Paris (High School Foreign Language club junior year and a weekend in March of ’09 on my own for the skates), but somehow the first view of la Tour Eiffel UN-jades just about everyone. It is awe inspiring, familiar, touristy, personal, ugly, beautiful, and absolutely unique. This is why, despite all our individual goals for the day, we agreed that we wanted a picture taken here.

After passing the white-face statue man, the gold lamé pharaoh (woman?), and 30 or so vendors with meter-square cloths offering Eiffel Towers in 8 or 10 sizes (not to mention several trios of camouflage-clad Frenchmen with automatic rifles (I’m sorry, I know it’s 2010 and they are there for my safety…but they did NOT make me feel safer, and they reminded me that we do not live in the world that I wish we lived in), we got close enough to really see the crowd. I’ve been here before when there were skaters free-styling among the crowd, and you could stroll your way through the plaza beneath. But this was a Saturday morning in August, and the entire area under The Tower seemed to be filled with queued visitors.

We found an area across the street, and commandeered a bench where we could lean, sit, and stand in such a way that the whole group and nearly the whole tower would be in the picture—a ubiquitous image, but somehow with a new slant. (A dozen pictures on six or so cameras, auto-timer that never went off, a picture of the tower without any people…I’m sure at least ONE of these pictures will be a wonderful memento—I just hope it’s not one of the ones that is missing the cameraman—I hope Brad’s auto-focus pics come out!)

Now it was time to split up, but we couldn’t quite decide who was going where. While we were deciding, Aaron and Tracie headed off to climb The Tower (I later learned that they climbed to the second story of the second level), and Natalie went in search of information on a boat tour of the Seine, which Brad had suggested. She came back quickly and said that there was a boat right down the stairs to the quai where we were; one left every 20 minutes for a one hour tour. It was €11, and there was no line. We all looked at each other, and our individual plans took a step backward. This seemed like a great plan, and NONE of us were adamant about a specific plan for Paris, as the group experience was paramount.

Mar on the Seine with Notre Dame behind her.

Ten of us took the tour (half an hour or so to buy the tickets and wait for the tour, and then an hour on the river). We all took out our cameras, and Brock continued to shoot video. Have I mentioned yet that the weather was perfect? Blue skies with a few light clouds, comfortable temperature (by now it was about 24°C (that’s about 75°F). What an ideal day to be on the Seine! For many, this was the perfect introduction to Paris (when you only have a few days, at least you see many of the highlights) and for others like myself, it was a lovely reminder of the beauty and history of the city. It was truly a joy to share this experience with my friends—to see their first reaction at the sight of Notre Dame reminded me to LOOK at it, not just to see it as a familiar sight. It is truly a beautiful building. Eyes grew wide at the size, grandeur, and spectacle of many of the sights, and it helped me to enjoy my trip to Paris even more!

Next up we still planned to split up. Some were headed to Saint Chappelle chapel, and I was headed to a clock I was anxious to see—a modern public clock called Le Defenseur du Temps (The Defender of Time). I’d seen pictures and video of it (on the hour, man battles the three demons of time, one each hour. At noon, three, and six, it battles all three). I determined that we could all take the same subway to the same stop, and then head toward St Chappelle, where we would part. But first we would eat, as it was about 2:00, and we were all starving!

We found a nice little sidewalk café right outside the Metro stairway, pulled 5 tables together, and sat down to eat. The man sitting next to me had a wonderful looking salad with cured ham, mozzarella, tomatoes, and pine nuts. He saw me looking at it and told me in perfect English with a beautiful French accent that it was delicious, and where it was on the menu. (Later his tablemate told me that she had just finished a 7 month stint working in Houston—she had been staying in Montrose!) I ordered the salad (and a Kronebourg 1664—have I mentioned yet that I’ve adopted this as my beer to drink in Paris?) All the meals were wonderful, the service was wonderful, the location was SUPREMELY Parisian, and we were all together. (The experience WAS ruined for one of us who ordered the special, then was told they were out, but they could substitute something else. What he wasn’t told was that the ‘something else’ was 10 euro more!)

By now I had pulled out the map given to me by my coworker and friend, Jo Ellen, for ‘the best chocolate in Paris’ and realized that we were a few blocks away. Everyone seemed interested in an experience which might be a letdown, but might also be the unexpected gem of the Paris experience.

On the way we passed through an open air market filled with hand-crafted items. Marionettes from Myanmar, (she made a point of telling us as we walked by), jewelry, scarves, an AMAZING booth of candied fruit—raspberries, kiwi slices, pineapple, even WHOLE pears! It is a small regret (for both Brock and I) that we didn’t stop, and weren’t able to get back.

We turned off the main street onto a quiet side street, and a block later I saw the sign for Debauve & Gallais in the middle of the next block. This was one of the 2 things I was planning for me Paris day off (the clock being the other), and now I had everyone with me. What if the place was a bust, the staff was rude, and the chocolate failed to impress?

The facade, from their website

One side of the window was filled with exotic teas, the other with chocolate. The façade was green wood with a large picture window on each side of the beautiful door—probably quite an extravagance when this location opened just after the French Revolution in 1800! We walked through the door, and I knew that we had found a special gem. The curved presentation counter (perhaps the original?) was inspired by the previous occupation of one of the founders as a chemist (at that time, basically an apothecary). Three women with smiles and smart uniforms—and white gloves!—waited to help us. Only one (I believe) spoke English. Chocolate was everywhere. Each piece looked too good to eat. And the smell. Oh my god! The smell. They should have charged just to enter. (But instead there were small samples by the cash register.)

The left side of the counter was filled with individual pieces, the right with pre-boxed assortments. I warned everyone before we went in that this was EXPENSIVE chocolate, as I didn’t want anyone to be disappointed, or to buy a lot and then find out that their bill was €300. Despite this, many made purchases, and several of us got assortments of our own to consume on the trip. I’ve had three (anyone who knows how I can tear through a box of Godiva knows what a force of will this has been!) I’ve tried a 99% dark chocolate (I almost cried) and dark chocolate with miel (honey). I expected a liquid honey center, but it was instead an exquisite soft center unlike anything I’ve ever tasted. I also had the best mini-truffle I’ve ever had. Still to come are several with raspberry, a chocolate covered cherry, one with rhum (I hope that’s rum and not, I don’t know, rhubarb!), pistachios, and apricot. (Upon arrival in Thionville I had a couple more before taking this picture—including the cherry cordial, strong and delicious alcohol and…what is this? A PIT in the cherry!)

Well, now it was time to think about separating. After a walk by the book stalls along the quais of the Seine, the rest of the group headed for Saint Chappelle, and I aimed for Gare de L’est, the train station where we would depart Paris the next night. I wanted to determine the layout, and most importantly find out if there were luggage lockers where we could stow our bags, since check out time was noon and our skate was from 2:30 to 5:30. Sure enough, it’s a tended site where they scan the luggage and store it ‘behind the scenes’ for €5 a bag.

Next up for me was Le Defenseur du Temps, and it was about 5:30. If I hurried, I could make it for the 6:00 ‘triple show’. I found the clock in a public square in the Quartier Horologique (the clock district) just north of the Pompidou Center. There was no one waiting for the show. I asked the waiter in the café opposite if the clock worked (March-t-il?) and he told me that the time was correct, but it hadn’t performed for 4 or 5 years! HUGE disappointment. But I had enjoyed the walk, and the clock itself was very interesting.

Home by Metro now for a regrouping with the Houstonians for a night at THE MOULIN ROUGE! We were all due refunds of varying amounts (depending on what portions of the trip we were attending), and the refunds for most were just enough to cover the cost of admission. As it turned out, only the Houstonians (but ALL of the Houstonians!) were interested.

The Metro ride required a transfer to a second line, and after some confusion, I realized I had gotten us off one stop early. Back onto the same line (RUNNING to throw ourselves onto the train that arrived just as we entered the station (crazy over-dressed Americans!), one more stop, and on to the bawdy section of Paris. (The area is called Pigalle, but is intentionally mispronounced as ‘Pig Alley’ due to its reputation!) While we had been on the train it had rained a bit, and was steadily sprinkling now. Our plan had been to grab some sandwiches and eat them on a bench, but the weather changed that. We poked our heads into a few places, but found they didn’t have any areas where the ten of us could eat together. Then we found a nice little Italian place across the street and down a bit from The Moulin Rouge. They seemed pleased (but a bit rattled) to put together a round table and three small square tables for us (picture a large key hole). DEFINITELY a language barrier and not all of us got what we thought we were ordering. We had been told to be in line for the Moulin Rouge by 10:30, and at 10:15 some of our food wasn’t out yet. We asked the waitress if things could be hurried up a bit, and it seems to me that some of what we thought we were getting hadn’t even been ordered! Things were quickly put right, we all ate our fill, and we headed out.

While we were eating, the line for the show had grown down the sidewalk to the point where we only had to cross the street to join it. The show started at 11 (so we were told!), but the audience from the previous show wasn’t even let out until 11! The line finally started moving at 11:15. We had only computer print-out of our confirmation, but that was enough. As a group of ten, we were directed to a special line, up a (formerly) grand, red carpeted stairway with giant posters of Can Can girls. Into the theater and we were led to a table for ten facing the stage on a terraced floor. White tablecloths and red lamps lit the space, and there was a champagne bucket on each table with two bottles.

Soon after arrival, the champagne corks started flying, and the show began. Women wearing very little and men covered head to toe danced and sang (well, lip synched) a song called ‘Dance, Dance, Dance’. Very flashy, very showy, and very fun. In the second half of the performance, there were 3 beautiful topless women with the same fully-clothed men. The nudity was shocking and mundane at the same time—an interesting element, more than a scandal. There were many ‘set piece’ dances, all with beautiful people performing choreographed routines, with varying amounts of proficiency and enthusiasm.

Interspersed were some astounding acts—a man who balance a woman while doing incredibly acrobatic acts (he balanced her upside down on his head…then walked across the stage, sat down, lay down, and got back up again. Later he held her hands and pressed her up, lowered her to impossible angles, twisted around the stage—truly awesome), a very impressive man who did a somewhat similar balancing act on his own, and a ventriloquist (who at one point had three ‘dummies’ come up from the audience and he gave them each a voice).

The highlight of the show was definitely the Can Can when all the women came out in red, white, and blue petticoats and did a very impressive and familiar dance in a dance hall where it has been danced nightly for, what? 150 years? --quite a spectacle!

We were all in the right mood for it, and the comment was made that it was the best refund people had ever had. Basically Greece’s fiscal irresponsibility bought our tickets to a memorable night out!

The subway ride home to our hotel was very fun. We were all…feeling the effects of half a bottle of champagne, not to mention the effects of the beautiful and suggestive young men and women. One of our number who shall remain nameless treated us to a bit of pole dancing on the subway car until we were joined on the car by a couple of young men who inserted themselves into our conversation. Later when we were announcing that ours was the next stop, two ladies chimed in that they understood, too! Everyone was having fun and enjoying the camaraderie and satisfaction of a day well spent, and the knowledge that there were still many more to come.