I started my day in a relaxed manner, according to my new resolution to Live Like A Parisian, by waking up before my alarm, puttering a bit, and writing. Then I adjourned to Starbucks for breakfast and American coffee. My morning activity was the Musee des Arts and Metiers, which was much much better than I expected it to be - really, it was incredible. They have an amazing collection of everything from scientific apparati to printing presses to ball bearings. I had to rush the end of my visit a bit in order to meet some family friends... we sat at a cafe and had a cold drink (an experience I'd not yet had... a bit anticlimactic) and then I followed them around the Marais as we windowshopped and they commented on their previous experiences in Paris, and they insisted that I absolutely had to try a felafel (good, but very different than Israeli or American felafel). They also showed me their apartment, which is freshly renovated and much fancier than mine (hardly a stretch). After this, I had an unfortunate period of wandering - I went to the Pere LaChaise cemetary, which was further away than I thought, in a very sketchy neighborhood, and not terribly interesting, and then to Canal St. Martin, which was almost as sketchy and also not interesting (Fodor's claims it is a great spot for hanging out... way off the mark, Fodor.), and then I had some trouble finding my way to a Metro station because I didn't want to stop to rummage in my guidebook. Fortunately, after a while I found my way to Gare de l'Est, and after a quick and equally ill-fated detour to St. Germain-de-Pres, I came home.
Now, my feet are swollen and sore. I may have to alter tomorrow's schedule to coddle them.
(okay, I realize this post sounds mostly complainy, but it was actually a really good day...)
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Things I Have Noticed
I thought I should formalize a few of my observations.
- In cafes, very few people sit with laptops, at least outside - I've seen a total of one. People sit together without talking. Men sit in pairs, usually with one man their own age. Women sit in pairs, usually with a woman much older or younger. Couples sit together. They eat or drink. They read the newspaper. Frequently they simply sit, nursing a beverage, watching the passersby.
- I see very small children with their families and teenagers in clumps. I rarely see children over 5 with their families.
- Women dress differently than women in New York. Less makeup - and mostly eye makeup - and much less jewelry. Far less exposed skin. Total lack of concern for revealed bra straps. And yet they always look impeccable, perhaps because of the simplicity. Also, they carry smaller bags.
- There is a subset of men who are very aggressively friendly (with, obviously, no intention of actually being friends) toward women. It is unclear to me whether they are targeting Americans - they always start out speaking in French - or if this is just how they are. Needless to say, the subset does not include any men I would actually want to be friends with.
- Everything opens much later than you would expect. Starbucks opens at 8. Other cafes open mid-morning. Museums open ten to thirty minutes after their official opening time (and close up to an hour earlier than the official closing time). The book vendors on the quays don't open until after noon.
- This is apparently one of the official periods of sales in Paris. Prices are supposedly very high here but to my eye they seem to hit about the same range as New York, even before the sales. I got a bag for 10 Euros for the purpose of being able to carry more than my shoulder bag holds without having a backpack. It also fits my netbook, more or less. For $13ish, I consider this a pretty good souvenir and a bag I would possibly have bought at home, as well as not really a serious investment.
I am falling behind! Days 4 - 5.5 or 6
Sunday morning I did, in fact, go jogging. At 7:30 a.m. the streets were pretty empty; I ran down to the Seine and along the quay and mostly only saw other joggers. Then I set off in the direction of the Canal St. Martin, a neighborhood that is supposed to contain a bustling street market. I found the word "bustling" to be an apt description, and after a short time in that area settled into an exploration of the Marais neighborhood. I visited the Victor Hugo house and museum, the Hotel Sully (the word hotel seems to describe any sufficiently-large house) and, after an energizing crepe sucre (really, they put sugar on the crepe and fold it up), the Pompidou Center (which happened to be offering free admission because it was the first sunday of the month).
Monday I set off bright and early for Notre Dame, which I had read was much nicer in the early morning. I got there not too long after it opened at eight and walked around; I couldn't up the tower or into the crypt because neither were open yet. Still, it was a much better visit than the last time I went, when it was mobbed by tourists and I could barely see anything. Afterwards, the other attractions on the Ile de la Cite were not open yet, so I made a detour to the Starbucks I'd looked up the previous evening (yes, they do have a few here) for the purpose of getting proper coffee (the kind with a filter). Then I went back to the Ile de la Cite and saw the Conciergerie (an old prison which had before that been part of the castle, dating to the middle ages) and Sainte-Chapelle (a chapel with incredible stained glass). I had intentionally gone to the Conciergerie, the less-popular of the two, first, and purchased a combined ticket, which saved me a bit of money and also allowed me to skip the ticket-buying line at Sainte-Chapelle.
Following my morning of history, I crossed to the Left Bank and wandered a bit, eventually making my way to Shakespeare and Company, an English-language bookstore famous for its long history of literary-Americans-in-Parisness. I spent a long time browsing and then bought two books (books are very expensive in Europe and I clearly did not pack enough - but they are a necessity and I was running low). Then I went home and had a nap (walking all day is hard work!), and in the late afternoon I walked around the northern part of the Marais, which I hadn't really seen the previous day. I saw many churches and old buildings probably too minor to put into any guidebook, bought haggadahs for my grandmother (she collects them), window-shopped, and took pictures.
This morning I woke up decidedly on the wrong side of the bed. I overslept and so did not have time to run, which was fine since I felt like I had been beaten by several dozen large men in my sleep (I am sore a lot these days, due to walking and carrying things and so forth) but did not make me feel happy. There was no possibility of proper coffee (I am supposed to be getting a coffee machine, oh, about three days ago, but it has not materialized) and for breakfast I made this horrific oatmeal. It was horrific because the texture was not what I'm used to (being not instant, it had to be cooked in the milk rather than put into hot liquid, so it was mushy and gross), the taste was bad (it was made with milk, not water, and the awful demi-ecreme milk no less), and in general it was so awful that I hardly ate any, which means I left my apartment hungry.
My destination was the Musee d'Orsay, which is famous for its impressionist paintings. I arrived shortly after it opened and, since I had a combo ticket from the Orangerie, had to wait in line for only (?) twenty minutes. However, I discovered after I got inside (somehow, this was not mentioned on the website) that due to renovations, the floor where the impressionist paintings are kept was closed, and most of the paintings were not on display, and the few that were, were stuffed into random rooms distributed all over the confusingly laid-out museum. Also, it was extremely crowded, to the point of interfering with own's ability to see - much less enjoy - the art.
Still, a lot of that was my grumpiness talking. Despite the crowds and renovations, I saw many paintings by Monet, Renoir, Degas, Van Gogh, and others. The decorative arts section of the museum is amazing. There are also many statues and a substantial pre-impressionist (19th-century) exhibit. Although I was somewhat disappointed, it was certainly worth a visit.
And then, I came home and slept, for about three hours. Apparently when I am not drinking coffee and am walking around in the sun all day, I need to get enough sleep. Also, I have realized that the way I've been conducting this visit, while perhaps appropriate for a weeklong stay, is not well-suited to my month here. I have been trying to push against the grain of Paris, and it has led to a lot of frustration. But this is not New York; it is a city in which many restaurants ask you if you want your drink "sur place or to go" because "to go" is not really a Paris way of doing things. And I didn't come here to race through the city in an American way. I've done that for a few days, and have seen most of the major neighborhoods and almost all the red-letter tourist attractions (still missing: Louvre, Champs-Elysees and Arc de Triomphe - both of which I saw when I was here a long tie ago - and Versailles). I think I will be much happier if - in the past few days, certainly, I have been much happier when - I let go of worries about How Much Have I Done and just fall into the rhythm of being here.
Monday I set off bright and early for Notre Dame, which I had read was much nicer in the early morning. I got there not too long after it opened at eight and walked around; I couldn't up the tower or into the crypt because neither were open yet. Still, it was a much better visit than the last time I went, when it was mobbed by tourists and I could barely see anything. Afterwards, the other attractions on the Ile de la Cite were not open yet, so I made a detour to the Starbucks I'd looked up the previous evening (yes, they do have a few here) for the purpose of getting proper coffee (the kind with a filter). Then I went back to the Ile de la Cite and saw the Conciergerie (an old prison which had before that been part of the castle, dating to the middle ages) and Sainte-Chapelle (a chapel with incredible stained glass). I had intentionally gone to the Conciergerie, the less-popular of the two, first, and purchased a combined ticket, which saved me a bit of money and also allowed me to skip the ticket-buying line at Sainte-Chapelle.
Following my morning of history, I crossed to the Left Bank and wandered a bit, eventually making my way to Shakespeare and Company, an English-language bookstore famous for its long history of literary-Americans-in-Parisness. I spent a long time browsing and then bought two books (books are very expensive in Europe and I clearly did not pack enough - but they are a necessity and I was running low). Then I went home and had a nap (walking all day is hard work!), and in the late afternoon I walked around the northern part of the Marais, which I hadn't really seen the previous day. I saw many churches and old buildings probably too minor to put into any guidebook, bought haggadahs for my grandmother (she collects them), window-shopped, and took pictures.
This morning I woke up decidedly on the wrong side of the bed. I overslept and so did not have time to run, which was fine since I felt like I had been beaten by several dozen large men in my sleep (I am sore a lot these days, due to walking and carrying things and so forth) but did not make me feel happy. There was no possibility of proper coffee (I am supposed to be getting a coffee machine, oh, about three days ago, but it has not materialized) and for breakfast I made this horrific oatmeal. It was horrific because the texture was not what I'm used to (being not instant, it had to be cooked in the milk rather than put into hot liquid, so it was mushy and gross), the taste was bad (it was made with milk, not water, and the awful demi-ecreme milk no less), and in general it was so awful that I hardly ate any, which means I left my apartment hungry.
My destination was the Musee d'Orsay, which is famous for its impressionist paintings. I arrived shortly after it opened and, since I had a combo ticket from the Orangerie, had to wait in line for only (?) twenty minutes. However, I discovered after I got inside (somehow, this was not mentioned on the website) that due to renovations, the floor where the impressionist paintings are kept was closed, and most of the paintings were not on display, and the few that were, were stuffed into random rooms distributed all over the confusingly laid-out museum. Also, it was extremely crowded, to the point of interfering with own's ability to see - much less enjoy - the art.
Still, a lot of that was my grumpiness talking. Despite the crowds and renovations, I saw many paintings by Monet, Renoir, Degas, Van Gogh, and others. The decorative arts section of the museum is amazing. There are also many statues and a substantial pre-impressionist (19th-century) exhibit. Although I was somewhat disappointed, it was certainly worth a visit.
And then, I came home and slept, for about three hours. Apparently when I am not drinking coffee and am walking around in the sun all day, I need to get enough sleep. Also, I have realized that the way I've been conducting this visit, while perhaps appropriate for a weeklong stay, is not well-suited to my month here. I have been trying to push against the grain of Paris, and it has led to a lot of frustration. But this is not New York; it is a city in which many restaurants ask you if you want your drink "sur place or to go" because "to go" is not really a Paris way of doing things. And I didn't come here to race through the city in an American way. I've done that for a few days, and have seen most of the major neighborhoods and almost all the red-letter tourist attractions (still missing: Louvre, Champs-Elysees and Arc de Triomphe - both of which I saw when I was here a long tie ago - and Versailles). I think I will be much happier if - in the past few days, certainly, I have been much happier when - I let go of worries about How Much Have I Done and just fall into the rhythm of being here.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Paris: Days 1-3
Oh, I have been remiss. There is so much to say, and so little energy with which to say it.
The entire first half of Thursday was a comedy of errors. Due to a variety of technical and non-technical issues, I woke up in a great state of sleep deprivation and confusion. The cruelest thing about traveling in a foreign country, for me, is that one of the things I need to do in order to be at my most coherent and brave is consume food and/or coffee regularly, especially in the morning, and doing those things in a country where one doesn't speak the language requires coherence and bravery. So I arrived at the Frankfurt train station with plenty of time to spare but hungry and uncaffeinated. However, I was able to get someone to sell me a cup of coffee, and thus fortified I purchased a breakfast item for consumption on the train.
The train ride was lovely; if you have never taken the train in Europe, you should know that it is far nicer than any American train (or economy-class plane). In Paris, I found myself immediately in trouble again because I did not have enough coins to buy a metrocard, the machine would accept neither bills nor American credit cards (The Europeans have switched over to cards with chips and not all of their machines still take swipe cards. This is intermittently a problem.), and there was no manned booth. After a great deal of consternation I ended up walking to my apartment, which was actually less bad than the consternation had been. Finally, on arrival there was the expected hassle of getting through two levels of gated entry (apparently we are very secure here in Paris; there are also three locks on my apartment door) and up seven flights of steps with my bag.
Then the real fun began. I immediately needed to go shopping, as I did not have shampoo or groceries or toilet paper. (I personally think it is inhumane to rent a vacation apartment and not leave even a starter bit.) However, I could not seem to figure out where to buy it. There are not giant Target stores in the middle of Paris (later, I found a Target ). Even in New York it took me a bit of time and/or asking my roommates to figure out where to buy some things, and Paris does not seem to have any equivalent of Duane Reade (i.e. all immediate essentials including sufficient groceries to keep you from dying in the next 48 hours). Eventually a lady in a pharmacy (which is also where you get toiletries; grocery stores don't have them) directed me to a grocery store, where they carry such things (apparently toilet paper is more like food than like soap).
After I completed my shopping trip, settled in, and tried some French food (turns out the baguette in the grocery store is not all that good), I set out for the Eiffel Tower, which was the meeting point of the evening bike tour I'd planned to take. I was under the impression that Paris is on the petite side, at least compared to New York, but I underestimated the distance to the Eiffel Tower or else didn't take the most efficient route. It took nearly an hour of pretty fast walking to get there. Fortunately I made my tour, and it was quite good, a least for right then. Usually I like my tours wonky and information-packed; this tour was mostly bike-riding with a little bit of talking, a boat ride, and some wine. Which was great for that night, because I was mentally tired from being in a new city but had plenty of steam to burn off. After the tour, a few flight crew were going to hang out and watch the Eiffel Tower lights and drink more wine, so I joined them, and the night ended with a very long and definitely-not-efficient trip back to the Rive Droite with another traveler from the tour.
So that was Thursday (I keep forgetting what day it is). Yesterday I got a bit of a late start and decided to walk to Montmartre. Again, I underestimated the distance; I also didn't realize that it was going to be ridiculously hot. But I made it to the Sacre-Coeur and walked around the other sites in the neighborhood; there are a couple museums that didn't strike me as high priorities, but I can certainly return. I also visited a Target-like superstore that sold housewares and not-quite-as-overpriced toiletries, where I got laundry detergent, and then I was able to do laundry in my space-age washer-dryer combo. It sounds like not very much, but it seemed like rather a lot to do at the time.
Today was rather more eventful. I set out at 7:55 a.m. with the plan to have breakfast at a cafe, but cafes in my neighborhood were not open. Fortunately, as I headed into more heavily-trafficked areas and the hour got a bit later, they began to open, and I stopped in a tiny cafe for a cafe creme - the first time I've actually had coffee here. I drank it standing at the counter like a real Parisian, and the cafe was just like the cafes in movies except slightly grottier. My French seems to be good enough to conduct simple transactions as long as I'm not asked a question that I don't anticipate (for example, if I'm expecting to be given a price, I can understand the price, but if instead they ask me if I want my coffee "sur place" or to go, I can't keep up with the speed of the question, or if I can, I can't assemble a reply fast enough. Usually this results in people walking away from me or just switching to English. Anyway, while at the cafe, the Head Guy In Charge of Being Cross deputized his assistant to fetch baguettes and croissants; I watched which way she went and, when I finished my coffee, followed her to a small boulangerie/patisserie, where I picked up breakfast.
Next stop was the Orangerie museum, with a brief break for a rainstorm and getting soaked as the museum staff, being not any more in a hurry than anyone else on this continent, took their sweet time opening. I spent the morning looking at paintings, especially Monet's big waterlily installation, and making notes in my Moleskine (it was given to me as a gift year ago and has always felt too pretentious to use... but, really, an art museum in Paris seems like a fitting venue). Then I walked down Rue Rivoli, window shopping and going into the English-language bookstores. Then I went to a grocery store (rather an event when you have little idea what anything is) and, after a brief stop at home for lunch, headed to the Left Bank to take in the window-shopping there. I ended up in the Jardin de Luxembourg (which is way nicer than gardens in New York) and was planning to head home, but ended up having an impromptu language lesson and Latin Quarter tour with an obliging local. Finally, on the way home I stopped at a fruit stall, the boulangerie two doors down from me (I discovered yesterday that boulangerie bread is much better than grocery store bread, and you can buy demi-baguettes), and the fromagerie for dinner. Just like a local! I was going to jog tonight, but the streets were still packed when I came in at 7:30, so I think I'll wait until morning - on a Sunday, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle covering the distance between my apartment and the quays, were I can probably jog in peace.
The entire first half of Thursday was a comedy of errors. Due to a variety of technical and non-technical issues, I woke up in a great state of sleep deprivation and confusion. The cruelest thing about traveling in a foreign country, for me, is that one of the things I need to do in order to be at my most coherent and brave is consume food and/or coffee regularly, especially in the morning, and doing those things in a country where one doesn't speak the language requires coherence and bravery. So I arrived at the Frankfurt train station with plenty of time to spare but hungry and uncaffeinated. However, I was able to get someone to sell me a cup of coffee, and thus fortified I purchased a breakfast item for consumption on the train.
The train ride was lovely; if you have never taken the train in Europe, you should know that it is far nicer than any American train (or economy-class plane). In Paris, I found myself immediately in trouble again because I did not have enough coins to buy a metrocard, the machine would accept neither bills nor American credit cards (The Europeans have switched over to cards with chips and not all of their machines still take swipe cards. This is intermittently a problem.), and there was no manned booth. After a great deal of consternation I ended up walking to my apartment, which was actually less bad than the consternation had been. Finally, on arrival there was the expected hassle of getting through two levels of gated entry (apparently we are very secure here in Paris; there are also three locks on my apartment door) and up seven flights of steps with my bag.
Then the real fun began. I immediately needed to go shopping, as I did not have shampoo or groceries or toilet paper. (I personally think it is inhumane to rent a vacation apartment and not leave even a starter bit.) However, I could not seem to figure out where to buy it. There are not giant Target stores in the middle of Paris (later, I found a Target ). Even in New York it took me a bit of time and/or asking my roommates to figure out where to buy some things, and Paris does not seem to have any equivalent of Duane Reade (i.e. all immediate essentials including sufficient groceries to keep you from dying in the next 48 hours). Eventually a lady in a pharmacy (which is also where you get toiletries; grocery stores don't have them) directed me to a grocery store, where they carry such things (apparently toilet paper is more like food than like soap).
After I completed my shopping trip, settled in, and tried some French food (turns out the baguette in the grocery store is not all that good), I set out for the Eiffel Tower, which was the meeting point of the evening bike tour I'd planned to take. I was under the impression that Paris is on the petite side, at least compared to New York, but I underestimated the distance to the Eiffel Tower or else didn't take the most efficient route. It took nearly an hour of pretty fast walking to get there. Fortunately I made my tour, and it was quite good, a least for right then. Usually I like my tours wonky and information-packed; this tour was mostly bike-riding with a little bit of talking, a boat ride, and some wine. Which was great for that night, because I was mentally tired from being in a new city but had plenty of steam to burn off. After the tour, a few flight crew were going to hang out and watch the Eiffel Tower lights and drink more wine, so I joined them, and the night ended with a very long and definitely-not-efficient trip back to the Rive Droite with another traveler from the tour.
So that was Thursday (I keep forgetting what day it is). Yesterday I got a bit of a late start and decided to walk to Montmartre. Again, I underestimated the distance; I also didn't realize that it was going to be ridiculously hot. But I made it to the Sacre-Coeur and walked around the other sites in the neighborhood; there are a couple museums that didn't strike me as high priorities, but I can certainly return. I also visited a Target-like superstore that sold housewares and not-quite-as-overpriced toiletries, where I got laundry detergent, and then I was able to do laundry in my space-age washer-dryer combo. It sounds like not very much, but it seemed like rather a lot to do at the time.
Today was rather more eventful. I set out at 7:55 a.m. with the plan to have breakfast at a cafe, but cafes in my neighborhood were not open. Fortunately, as I headed into more heavily-trafficked areas and the hour got a bit later, they began to open, and I stopped in a tiny cafe for a cafe creme - the first time I've actually had coffee here. I drank it standing at the counter like a real Parisian, and the cafe was just like the cafes in movies except slightly grottier. My French seems to be good enough to conduct simple transactions as long as I'm not asked a question that I don't anticipate (for example, if I'm expecting to be given a price, I can understand the price, but if instead they ask me if I want my coffee "sur place" or to go, I can't keep up with the speed of the question, or if I can, I can't assemble a reply fast enough. Usually this results in people walking away from me or just switching to English. Anyway, while at the cafe, the Head Guy In Charge of Being Cross deputized his assistant to fetch baguettes and croissants; I watched which way she went and, when I finished my coffee, followed her to a small boulangerie/patisserie, where I picked up breakfast.
Next stop was the Orangerie museum, with a brief break for a rainstorm and getting soaked as the museum staff, being not any more in a hurry than anyone else on this continent, took their sweet time opening. I spent the morning looking at paintings, especially Monet's big waterlily installation, and making notes in my Moleskine (it was given to me as a gift year ago and has always felt too pretentious to use... but, really, an art museum in Paris seems like a fitting venue). Then I walked down Rue Rivoli, window shopping and going into the English-language bookstores. Then I went to a grocery store (rather an event when you have little idea what anything is) and, after a brief stop at home for lunch, headed to the Left Bank to take in the window-shopping there. I ended up in the Jardin de Luxembourg (which is way nicer than gardens in New York) and was planning to head home, but ended up having an impromptu language lesson and Latin Quarter tour with an obliging local. Finally, on the way home I stopped at a fruit stall, the boulangerie two doors down from me (I discovered yesterday that boulangerie bread is much better than grocery store bread, and you can buy demi-baguettes), and the fromagerie for dinner. Just like a local! I was going to jog tonight, but the streets were still packed when I came in at 7:30, so I think I'll wait until morning - on a Sunday, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle covering the distance between my apartment and the quays, were I can probably jog in peace.
Friday, July 2, 2010
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