The Inaccurate Tourist

61. More Little Cousin

I just realized that I moved in with Kendra and her family back when I was the same age that she is now. Time flies -- and I'm glad it does.

Day 7 : Original Crepestra

So it was Friday, and I thought it would be fun to go out with the girls. Justine from New Zealand was there at work, and since she was otherwise trapped out in Massy (hellhole suburb), I invited her to come along. So the three of us went out for crèpres.

Actually, we were five because Antonio and Anna decided to come along. They were heading out for vacation, so it was nice to see them off. And of course, since the old office chums were getting together, Philippe joined us, which makes six.

Wait, I miscounted -- that's seven. Errr, nine. We met Franck and Emmanuel on the way there, and they were going to get something to eat. I tried to make sure that everyone knew everyone but somehow I completely forgot Emmanuel's name, so I called him Jean-Jacques for most of the night. It sounded kind of French, although I knew it should have started with an E.

The problem with nine people is that the best crèperie in Paris was too small to accomodate us, and they don't take reservations. Le Petit Josselin is (in my opinion) the best of all the crèperies in the Montparnasse area, which are the best crèpes in Paris (but not in France). When you go there, make sure that you try the caramel maison dessert crèpe. I will marry that crèpe some day.

Anyway, we went to a different crèperie, which was mostly empty. We took this to mean that it wasn't very good, but we were pleasantly surprised. I had a crèpe complète (ham, cheese and egg) with mushrooms and I tried their caramel au beurre sal&eacuate; for dessert. It was pretty good, but we're just going to remain friends. We had sweet cider (doux) which is only 2% alcohol, and two pitchers of dry cider (brut) which is twice that.

Then we went home.

Day 8 : Walkstra

Paris isn't Paris unless your feet are so sore that you need to resort to booze to relieve the pain. Fortunately, it was suddenly the weekend. We decided to walk.

Our initial destination was Denfert-Rochereau to pick up Justine. She figures prominently this weekend, since she's also looking to harden her feet on the Paris trottoirs. Since Line 6 is down for the summer (they need to upgrade the hundred year old viaduct), we took the connector bus, and then the métro to Bercy. This is an arena and omnisport centre in the revitalized east of Paris. It's right on the Seine across from the national library.

Beside Bercy is a very large park, where we ate our picnic sandwiches. Normally on the weekend, the park would be full of Saturday sun-bathers and frisbee-throwers, but it was eerily empty. It's surprising how the city empties during August, when all of the French go on seaside vacations.

The park is isolated from the Seine by a large hill, which protects it from noise from the side streets. We went to the top of the hill where there's a series of bronze painted statues representing different countries, and fashioned out of imprints taken from the streets of those countries. We found Canada with the large red maple leaf. We also found a few sun-bathers in unfortunate speedos, so we had to flee.

A bit farther and we got to Bercy Village. This used to be the wine warehouse district for Paris, but was converted into a trendy restaurant/home decoration/camping and shopping centre. There are lots of great designer things to buy. A chrome ice crusher caught my eye, but the emergency response team managed to get it out without much damage.

We had some beers at The Frog and Princess, an English pub. Justine had a Corona and I had a Froegaarden, which I thought was pretty funny. It was very light and extremely wheaty. I could have sprinkled muesli on for garnish. For any relatives and/or Canadian authorities that are reading this, the girls had a Coke and a grapefruit juice. I can prove it -- klepto Kendra stole the Coke bottle.

Anyway, we left the air-conditioned comfort of the pub and took the ultramodern Line 14 halfway across the city to Chatelet. We decided to go to Justine's favourite coffee haunt in La Samaritaine, but we got sidetracked by Sephora and Bensimon as well as numerous hats, belts, bags and shoes. The cafe was too crowded so we went upstairs to the terrace, thinking to treat ourselves to a beautiful view. It was also too crowded. So much for La Samaritaine.

We then walked nearly the entire Paris plage, which accounts for all of the Parisians that didn't leave the city for the real beach. One could argue that it's crowded and largely unpleasant, but I think it's a wonderful idea. It's crowded, but not aggressive, and everyone is sitting and chatting and relaxing. The lounge chairs are all being used, and people are waiting in line for the hammocks. One woman put on a big raincoat so she could be underneath the atomizers spraying water over the boardwalk while her boyfriend took pictures. They had even constructed a pool this year.

Regardless, we were happy to get up and off the quai at the end. We walked up to the Institute de Monde Arab, where there's an excellent terrace that overlooks Notre Dame (and it's free!) Unfortunately, they had already closed.

Later we found the door to the Tour d'Argent, one of the most famous and expensive restaurants in Paris. Youch. I was too scared to even go close to the door, since they have white coated doormen to scoot away my type. I peered in the gift shop next door and thought how sad it would be to buy a souvenir for a restaurant that I wouldn't ever go into. Then I changed my mind and thought how sad it would be if I ever bought a large ceramic fisherman in the process of painfully mutating into a duck (305€).

Our next stop was ice cream on the Ile Saint-Louis. We went to Amorina instead of Berthillon for a delicious gelato. Mine was half nocciola (hazelnut) and half flore di latte (who knows?). We sat by the Seine and ate our ice cream.

Then we went home. I think I made everyone a very fancy seven course meal (if you count salad as two courses and hotdogs as five). Then the day was over.

Oh, my aching feet.

Day 9 : Versastra

Well, the day had to come, and it came at last. I couldn't put it off any longer. We had to make the pilgrimage to Versailles.

Don't get me wrong -- Versailles is perfectly lovely as far as castles built by absolute (and jealous) monarchs with the resources of a kingdom at his beck. But on the other hand, I haven't ever visited any other UNESCO World Heritage Sites seven (sept) times.

It was hot, of course, but for once I remembered my sunscreen. I dropped Kendra and Brenda off in the line and went and sat in the garden and read. Then they came and we ate our picnic sandwiches in the shade.

The water in the fountains turned on, and we walked to see them all. I even found one that I hadn't seen before, down by one of the quarters of the park that was being restored.

We didn't walk the Grand Canal to see the Grand Trianon, the Petit Trianon or the Queen's Hamlet. It was simply too hot and unpleasant. Instead, we sat in the nearly empty Queen's Garden in the shade and chatted for a bit, and then left to go home.

For some strange reason, the RER train was air-conditioned on the way home!

That night, we watched "Raising Arizona", which has one of the best beginnings of all time. Okay then!

Day 10 : Louvrestra, Defender of the Mysterious Smile

The girls went to the Louvre today, and saw the Mona Lisa. I had to go back to work, and got home late and grumpy. They're taking good care of my place, cooking and cleaning.

Day 11 : Eiffelstra, Invador of the Heavens

The girls went to the Eiffel Tower, walking up to the second level and taking the elevator the rest of the way. I had to go back to work, and got home late and grumpy.

We were going to go to La Defense that evening to see the sun set over the modern skyscrapers. Justine was going to go with us, and joined us for a meal of cheese and salad. Unfortunately, time flew and we never made it out there. Instead, we played Sorry and Jungle Speed. Kendra and Brenda are getting very fast.

Day 12 : Kendra and Brenda and their French Friends

I didn't even pay attention to what the girls did today. I think they went to the Marais, which turned out to be closed. They reported being whistled at and followed by dirty and aged French men until they hid in a métro.

Please note: the cliché about old French men chasing young girls is tired. Admittedly as an unwashed senior, you may have "nothing to lose" by menacing Canadian cuties with appreciative whistles and affectionate stalking... do you just enjoy making other people uncomfortable?

Anyway, I came home from work slightly less late with a roast chicken. Justine joined us for a successful attempt out to La Defense. Coming out of the métro, the Grande Arche was exciting and imposing. Down the axis of monuments, the Arc de Triomphe wasn't lit up for some reason.

We walked down through the area, sat by the fountain at the end (Kendra and Brenda waded through), watched the Eiffel Tower scintillate and took the métro home.

Day 13 : Kendra, Brenda, Justine and their Boat

We had soft tacos for supper.

They all went on the boat ride on the Seind. Having promised myself never to go on the damn boats again, I stayed home. Hooray!

Day 14 : Molestra the Clown

This was the girls' last day without me cramping their style (I was at work), so they went hunting for all the souvenirs that they'd seen during the week but hadn't picked up. They went through the Champs-Elysées, down by the Hotel de Ville, through Beaubourg. Apparently, they missed one shop, so we will be going back there together on Saturday -- my keen shop tracking instincts once more will save the day.

Anyway, they once again were treated to a delightful man on the métro who was thoroughly charmed by their fresh, youthful wit and vigor. Like a gentleman, he introduced himself by moistening his lips with an enthusiastic tongue and conducting a search party in his pant pockets. Thankfully, he played his little, little game away from our heroines and did not enter in the same car.

Honestly. I mean really. I'm embarrassed just hearing about it. Paris is a very safe city, but I guess it's slightly more safe for a guy.

I got home relatively early to meet the guy who will be fixing the tiles in the bathroom. Hooray! Then we played Jungle Speed until I quit in a huff. The girls have obviously been dosing up on amphetamines -- I had no hope of winning against their lightning quick reflexes (and Brenda's carnivorous fingernails).

Day 15 : Wrapupstra

All good things come to an end... but not today. Now, Paris is is a beautiful city, stuffed with things to do like a Thanksgiving turkey is stuffed with stuffing. Or a teddy bear is stuffed with stuffing. Stuffing stuffing stuffing. If you're an art fanatic, you can stuff yourself with museums with some of the greatest works in the world, from the greatest era. If you're a historian, strut your stuff through Roman ruins, medieval galleries, by statues, columns and plaques for famous men, women and events. If you're into buying stuff, there are majestic department stores, grand avenues of consumer splendour, warehouse districts, fashion shows and design galleries. Churches, concerts, expositions, exhibitions (see Day 14). Stuff, stuff and more stuff.

We decided to spend the day doing other stuff.

First, we walked through the Montparnasse Saturday market. My plan was to buy some Lebanese take-away, which is unfailingly delicious. Unfortunately, the ravages of August and summer holidays left the market rather bare. No Lebanese for us, although a lot of the fruit and cheese looked tempting. Instead, we stopped at the sandwich counter at the Inno supermarket, and carried our packages to the Jardins de Luxembourg for our picnic.

On the way there, we passed my project manager walking in the other direction. I didn't notice her until we were about twenty centimetres apart, and she said "Bonjour, Ryan." I was surprised, so I yelled "gah!" then collected my wits and introduced her to Kendra and Brenda.

We ate on one of the Forbidden Lawns, but the grass police didn't catch us until we were finished our sandwiches. Haha. Apparently, all the grass is forbidden unless there's a little sign inviting you to stroll over it. I knew that, but like a good Parisian, the rule doesn't apply to me.

Then we walked through to the Senate, and then up and towards the metro at Odéon and up into the city. They had done some shopping during the week and needed to find a particular store that was "near the Nafnaf where we bought those pants" (near Georges Pompidou, in fact). We looked and looked and looked and looked, and they ended up buying their souvenir elsewhere, at which point we found the store they wanted.

Afterwards, we went searching for a café to lounge at. We found one and lounged. Then we stopped in the BHV to buy an ice crusher, but they only had ice shavers. Hmm. Back to Bercy next weekend!

We sought adventure in the Marais, but it was mostly desolate as well. We did find the Picasso Museum, and the ticket lady let Kendra and Brenda in for free, on the grounds that Kendra looked like she was under 18 as well. I, however, had to pay a fine for looking thirty.

Then we went home for a rest.

We ate the best pizza in Paris and walked along the Seine for hours at night. They were dancing, but for some reason the Salsa dancers moved to a different location where we couldn't watch them. Their original amphitheatre was filled with people doing a new dance called "The Do Your Own Thing But Not That Well".

Day 16 : Go Home

Then they went home. I was sad. I had grown attached to them.

Posted by The Inaccurate Tourist at August 10, 2004 03:42 PM