"I love Paris in June, what about you...?"
Trip Start
May 05, 2007
1
10
11
Trip End
May 15, 2007
Paris,
Île-de-France,
France
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Our day started with a very minor event that had Dad and me (and eventually Mom too) stuck with a major case of silly giggles. Breakfast at the hotel was a small buffet with cereal, french bread and croissants, and an egg-cooker. What am I calling an egg-cooker, you ask? If I knew the proper name, I would use it, but in lieu of that, let me describe my egg-cooker.
It was metal appliance the approximate size of a four-slice toaster. It was hollow, and its center was filled with hot (not quite boiling) water. Metal "dippers" shaped to hold an egg each were hanging off the sides. Quite simply, you put an egg in a dipper, hang the dipper off the side, thereby plunging the egg in the hot water. Three - or five, or ten minutes later - you take the egg out of the water, and voila! Oeuf a la coque, comme disent les Français! Or, if you prefer, a soft-boiled, or hard-boiled egg.
The successful cooking of such an egg is based on the premise that the egg has to remain plunged in the hot water. As I'm filling a bowl with yogurt, I catch my Dad fumbling around with one of the dippers, giggling surreptiously, trying not to attract attention. I lean over, and ask, "What's going on? I can see your shoulders shaking with laughter...". He can barely speak, he has tears running down his cheeks, and is stifling laughter. "My egg... it's floating! It won't sink..." I look into the egg-cooker, and indeed I see this egg, refusing to remain prisoner of a dipper, bobbing around in the hot water, with its top-half well above water.
Now we're both giggling, realizing that it's really not that funny, and that we'd better keep it quiet for fear of looking really stupid.
Ah... Notre-Dame...!
Now Mom is curious - she sees the both of us, a few feet away, "playing" with the egg-cooker and visibly trying not laugh. She comes over, and asks, "What's so funny...?" We once again explain what the silliness is about -- and the mere triviality of it makes us laugh all over again...EVENTUALLY, Dad pulls his egg out of the water, hoping he's left it in long enough to be hard-boiled. Ah... but floating has saved this yoke: it's still liquid...
Having started the day with a healthy dose of laughter, we headed out into the city. Early morning rain had left the streets glistening under the rising sun, and the smell of summer was in the air (the good smell of summer, that is...). We walked to La Madeleine, sat in the big dark Grecian church for a while, listening to organ music, and observing pious Parisians praying.
We boarded the Métro and went to La Cité, emerging from the underground into bright sunshine, crowds of visitors, and the magical sight of Notre-Dame de Paris. Entering the grand old cathedral, the darkness swallowed us as we walked along the side aisle, while mass was being said in the central section. The church was pretty full and it was almost difficult to stop and admire frescoes and other masterpieces, as so many people wanted to get through.
Coming out of the church, we walked around a bit, admiring the "arcs-boutants" and impressive gargoyles sitting atop the cathedral to protect it. Thoughts of hunchbacks, Victor Hugo, loud bells went through my head as I contemplated this most majestic of structures.
We sat outside at the Cafe des Tours Notre-Dame for lunch, people-watching, and enjoying the glorious sunshine beaming down on Paris.
We walked over the bridge and onto the Left Bank, entering the Quartier Latin, with its quirky streets, funky shops, and great street musicians.
Arc de Triomphe
A jazz quartet was giving quite a show, and we enjoyed the music for a while.Our walk then took us to the Jardins du Luxembourg, by the old palace and the grand fountain. Sitting near the water, we just paused and enjoyed life for a while...
Dad then pointed out that the sky was getting dark, and that a storm was moving in. It would start to rain any minute. We made a calculated (as opposed to mad) dash to the Métro, and rode it to Place du Trocadéro, where we surfaced onto wet pavement, and clearing skies. What timing...
Ahhh... la tour Eiffel... Always a sight. It was a imposing as ever, rising into the blue sky with nothing around to hide it from view.
We walked to Place de l'Etoile and watched an impressive display of absolute madness as cars went round and round the Arc de Triomphe, never once causing an accident, but coming close a few times. Men and women on bicycles calmly (?) wove into this mad traffic, making their own way to the street of their choice. It was almost voyeurism on our part, because we were expecting something bad to happen, and seemed to be transfixed in our wait for this sad event.
Fortunately for all involved, nothing happened during our watch, and we started up the most famous street in the world, and my Mom's favourite stroll ever: a walk up the Champs Elysées, with stylish Parisians sipping eau minérale on the sidewalk cafes, and world-famous restaurants laying out the silverware on their outdoor patio tables. The architecture is beautiful, the atmosphere is rich, and everyone seems happy, even the ones who frown with style.
We stopped at McDonalds for a bio-break and coffee. Yes, McDonalds on the Champs Elysées is better and nicer than any other Mickey D's anywhere else (except for Buenos Aires that is -- but BA is known as the Paris of the south hemisphere...). The coffee was delish, and we resumed our stroll towards Place de la Concorde, with its Egyptian Obelisk standing guard proudly.
Palais de l'Elysée on one side, Hotel Crillion on the other, and the world's most famous avenue, with the Arc de Triomphe at one end, and the Tuileries at the other. Wow.
We walked through the Jardin des Tuileries, making our way to the Place Vendome, home of the Ritz Carlton made doubly-famous after Lady Diana and Dody Al-Fayed left from there on the night of their tragic accident.
Walking from Place Vendome, we headed back on weary feet towards the Opera, once more in quest of a place for a meal. One would think it an easy task to find dinner in Paris, but on a Sunday night, it isn't always the case. After taking l'apero at the Cafe de la Paix, we lucked out, finding the delightful Café du Maugador near the Gare St-Lazare. Great food and great service.
Another day ended, tired travellers eager for a comfy bed...
