Well hello, old friends!
Funny thing about working - it's great for 'income' and 'saving', but international travel becomes much more sparse. Unsurprisingly, therefore, so does travel blogging.
Thankfully, here I am to tell you about the start of a new adventure: a week-long trip to Paris.
I know, I've been here many times before (2008, 2011, 2012, 2013..twice, 2016... I think). It's hard to believe that in 2008, when I was here visiting Marjorie that I thought it would be a once-in-a-lifetime trip. Now it feels like an old friend, a patchwork of memories woven together by my friends and travel companions.
On this occasion, I'm here with Julia to celebrate the wedding of my Oxford housemates while continuing to explore the Ile-de-France.
We landed at Heathrow Friday night following an unprecedented daytime flight over the Atlantic. Not much to write home about, mainly because I spent the trip writing-to-work about. After spending the night with Ellie and Liam, Julia and I caught the early morning Eurostar from St Pancras, with ham and cheese sandwiches in hand. It felt great to be back in London after a three-year hiatus, even if I only saw the Tube and train station.
We arrived in Paris around 1400 Saturday and, after dropping our bags in the Marais Airbnb, set out to begin our adventures.
First was a catch-up with my former dance partner, Denny, at the Pompidou Centre rooftop bar. Not only was it great catching up with her and hearing about her career exploits, but we had a remarkable view of the 'topless' Notre Dame off in the distance. It looked as if it had had a buzz cut. I could only imagine being at the bar in April, watching as the inferno tore through the cathedral roof!
Since it was so beautiful out (a theme of the week so far), Julia and I headed to Pont Neuf - the tip of Ile-de-Cite - with some wine, Comte, and Spanish ham, and picnicked on the bank of the Seine as the sun went down. There were plenty of others out as well, but the late summer freshness was in the air, and it was a marvelous evening. We particularly enjoyed watching the pigeons perilously navigating the mossy stones whilst attempting to drink from the river.
In the morning, we met up with our mutual friend, Sally, at Gare l'Est. After a frantic few minutes trying to figure out the ticketing machines (because it wouldn't be a trip in another country without a ticketing mishap), we boarded a train for Reims. Sally has been living learning French for a while now, and she informed me that Reimes doesn't rhyme with rhyme... but actually sounds a bit more like Rchkkkkime. Sad to say that my poor English voice box can't handle that.
The train trip was actually a mere 45 minutes, leaving us on the edge of the quiet town around 10:30 in the morning. After scoping out city centre - and going to tourist info - we checked out the cathedral. Being Sunday, mass was still underway, but we admired the historic, grand, and beautiful structure from the back (with numerous other tourists). Apparently every French monarch for about 1000 years was coronated there.
It turned out, my Parisian experience of Sundays didn't translate to Reims, which was thoroughly shut down. Sundays are a day of rest; the town obliged. We did, however, find a nice local cafe for lunch, which served us the most magnificent quiche Lorraine I've ever had. Thankfully Sally and Julia both have more experience with the French language, so I didn't even have to order. We also had some amazing slices of apricot tarte, which definitely satiated the sweet tooth.
We did walk past some Roman ruins, but surrounded by construction works, it was somewhat disappointing. What wasn't disappointing was our tour of the G.H. Mumm champagne house, where we learned all about the production process and cellars. Did you know that the yeast turn to sludge in the second, in-bottle, fermentation? They have to open the 'final' bottle at -24C to pull the plug of sediment out before corking the bottle for distribution. Some of the process is still done by hand.
After a tasting, we wandered around town. It was hot, so we didn't quite get as far as we wanted. Nonetheless, it was nice having an excursion out of Paris to the champagne region. Oh yeah... for dinner I had a salad... with lardons and toasts with chevre. Yet another ham and cheese.
Yesterday, in honor of Labor Day, Julia had to briefly take care of some work in the morning. Meanwhile, I caught up with Paul from my high school days at a cafe in the Marais. Schools were starting up for the year; parents and youngsters crowded around courtyard doorways for day one registration. It was great to see all the little'uns out on such a crisp and beautiful morning. As for Paul, he was just finishing up and assignment for his job and had stopped in Paris on his way back to the States. It's a small world, considering how much we've struggled to deliberately meet up over the last decade. I had a... ham and cheese bruschetta... which was very tasty, but still ham and cheese. We chatted over breakfast.
Following breakfast, Julia and I set off to walk some of Paris. Taking the train to Place de la Concorde, we walked Quai d'Orsay along the water, through the 4th Arrondisement, past the Eiffel Tower and Trocadero, and down into the 16th. There we met Denny again, for lunch, at a place I had met her previously: Le Chalet. The rabbit risotto was outstanding. We then crossed the street to an apparently award-winning boulangerie, for a post-lunch patisserie. I saw the most delicious thing that none of the three of us could pronounce: Ecureuil. A chocolate hazelnut mousse/layer cake with a chopped hazelnut and chocolate coating, with hazelnut chocolate mousse on top. The waiter joked that the French have trouble saying 'squirrel', so it's all fair (aside, I just looked up a translation of ecureuil to realize it is a squirrel! Ha!). Anyway, if it sounds decadent... it was. A massive sugar coma followed.
From there, Julia and I trained back into the centre and met Sally (again) at the Ecole Militaire. We walked along the river, admiring the Seine and crossing at the Pont des Arts - now totally devoid of the famous love locks. We went through Chatelet, which Julia misheard as Chat au Lait, probably because of my poor English voice box that can't actually pronounce anything. We dashed into the Pompidou Centre to get a brief fix of some modern art before we had to go meet Julia's family.
The best part is that I may have convinced Julia and Sally that modern art actually has some aesthetically appealing aspects! Particularly the 'deconstructed' piano on the wall...
That's all for now! Tune in next time to see if I continued to dine on ham and cheese...