CityLust: Paris
Have you ever come back from a trip and you have no idea what to tell people? I was in Paris last week, pause for dramatic effect, and it was wonderful. Leah, my bread twin and co-adventurer and I did all most of the things. I'll start with food and bread, and then the rest of the trip.
Note: Bonjour means hello in French and according to the central Paris tour guide it's also a way of acknowledging one's existence. Always greeting someone before ordering or asking for help may seem like a "duh" but think about it- how often do we order our coffee or ask for directions without saying hello or directly acknowledging the person you're giving an order to? Probably more than you might think. Also, after a week of mentally reminding myself to say "bonjour" to EVERYONE, I found myself on the return trip back having to remind myself NOT to say it to everyone.
We seemed to find two kinds of boulangerie (bakeries) and patisseries (pastry shop) in Paris, one is your homely, lovely one that when you walk in it's like a bread hug; and the other is SUPER FANCY and you'll be spending a lot on a work or edible art. We very much liked the former. Fun fact: moulin is just French for "mill." Maybe I'd know that if I'd ever seen Moulin Rouge, but I have a feeling that movie was not about milling flour...
Our last night we went for a fancy dinner at Frenchie Bar & Vin. The whole trip we didn't really grasp the Parisian meal timetables, sometimes in our favor, with an empty cafe all to ourselves and sometimes not, like when we went to a very busy local restaurant on a tuesday night. They were all booked up for the evening but directed Leah and I to the restaurant's wine bar directly across the street. I waxed on poetically about this meal to my Mom for about 10 minutes, so I'll spare you that but just know it was one of the best meals I've ever had.
Friday morning Leah meet me at the train station, Gare du Nord and we staggered our way to our Parisian apartment. Or flat, depending on the part of the world you live in. We couldn't have known ahead of time how perfect the flat was for us. This 3rd floor (or 4th floor, since in Europe the ground floor is level 0, kinda makes sense doesn't it?!) flat was on a quiet street Rue du Vertbois, promptly nicknamed green boy street. We cooked dinner several nights, learned to make espresso on the stove and age Bay-gel Bagels each morning.
We saw so much art. SO MUCH. Leah and I first met in highschool and my early memories of her are from a National Art Honor Society, yep,that's a thing, trip to New York City. The art museum's in Paris are art history lessons come to life. Nearly everything that I was told is important and why, we saw. Although I've forgotten many of the why's by now. Monet's Waterlilies enveloped you in Museé d'Orangerie, the Mona Lisa was looking bored at the Louvre, and the impressionist were hanging out in Museé d'Orsay. Get it? Hanging out? 😆
Virginian Cy Twombly at the Centre Pompidou. Bonus Paris tip: the Pompidou has an amazing view of the city from the top floor gallery.
That was whole of the trip. Tired feet and awkward spraying shower aside, it was really great. Read Leah's blog post about the trip over on her blog I Haven't The Foggiest and hear about our trip to the magical kitchen supply shop!
❤️ & 🍞,
Amy
