Paris with the Sleepies
We arrived in Paris exactly on time and, after navigating the endless hallways and thoroughfares of de Gaulle airport, finally got through passport control and into a taxi. We ended up not arriving at the apartment until about 11AM because there was a massive accident with numerous injured snarling up the main route from the airport to the city center. Our driver was good humored and apologetic and even drove us down into the tiny, one lane, cobblestone street in which our apartment is located.
The door to our place is a narrow green door snugly located between two shopfronts. Once inside, the hallway is, again, narrow and the rough stone walls betray the building's antiquity--it's 300 years old. Our apartment is on the French second floor (which means third floor in American). It's a one bedroom furnished in a modern way, but then decorated with gorgeous antiques on the walls: panels from churches that go back to the 1500s and 1700s. The view from the living room window is of a ruined wall that is part of St Julien le Pauvre church (home to the oldest tree in Paris, planted in the 1600s--and it looks it) and, beyond the, the spire and towers of Notre Dame.
The apartment manager, Thierry, came to welcome us and ensure that everything was good. He was a short, slim man with thick hair and an impressive nose, very French, predictably. He flitted about the place like a determined bird, checking supplies and changing out things that did not satisfy him. He was delightful. Once we were settled, we decided to stroll the neighborhood. Our apartment is located in the 5th arrondisement, sometimes referred to as the Latin Quarter, for all the schools here. (Schools used to teach exclusively in the Latin language.) It rapidly became clear, however, that we were lodging in the Geek Quarter. The streets around here are lined with comic book shops and pop culture toy stores. They're all small and specialized, but I was surprised to find myself faced with store front after store front of superheroes and book titles I know from back home. I know there's a huge culture of comics in this country, but it's one thing to know and another thing to witness it firsthand.
We strolled in a spiral fashion out from our block and saw little shops, many cafes, and found a market where we picked up some basics we wanted to have in the apartment. We then settled down at a cafe with a table on the street for a late lunch and people watching. Based on my observations, I, in my jeans, am clearly an American. Elizabeth decidedly cuts a more elegant, more Parisian figure than I do; she chose her wardrobe well and has had male attention since we got on the plane. Lunch was a cheese platter for E, and a salad with cheese and bread for me, a veritable cheese extravaganza, and all of it delicious. We each had a glass of champagne. (Our waiter's comment when Elizabeth ordered "un coupe": "Paris? Champagne!") We then returned to the apartment to put away from groceries, noticing a concert scheduled to be performed at St. Julien this evening on the way. We investigated getting tickets, and then realized we were both so sleepy that it was probably the better part of valor to skip it and count on getting sleep.
We took naps, then got up and out and strolled the Ile de la Cite, getting a look at Notre Dame from the outside, up close and personal. It is, after all, the equivalent of only two blocks from where we're staying. The place is HUGE. It reminded me of the Pyramids; you can't understand how really big it is until you see it in person. We were both gobsmacked. With its rosette window and astonishing flying buttresses* it is breathtaking to see. Its moods change as the light changes, and you always notice something new. We then walked more, found souvenir shops, more lovely-looking cafes, and eventually headed home.
It turns out that our apartment is about a block from Shakespeare & Company. We couldn't resist stopping in to poke around, and then stopped for a glass of wine at a cafe across the street from our building. A soprano sang opera inside while we sat on the street sipping out drinks and watching people go by as the last of the daylight finally faded.
The day ended with me discovering that my adaptors, for a variety of reasons, aren't working with my iPad so I can't upload any photographs I don't take with my iPad. This could probably be solved by a visit to an Apple store, but it's not a priority for me. I'll load pictures as I can, but will save the bulk for my return. Frustrating, but deprioritized. I need to be here enjoying the trip. I'll share the pix when I get home.
And now, seriously, to bed.
*What do you call a female aerialist act that supports the church?
The door to our place is a narrow green door snugly located between two shopfronts. Once inside, the hallway is, again, narrow and the rough stone walls betray the building's antiquity--it's 300 years old. Our apartment is on the French second floor (which means third floor in American). It's a one bedroom furnished in a modern way, but then decorated with gorgeous antiques on the walls: panels from churches that go back to the 1500s and 1700s. The view from the living room window is of a ruined wall that is part of St Julien le Pauvre church (home to the oldest tree in Paris, planted in the 1600s--and it looks it) and, beyond the, the spire and towers of Notre Dame.
The apartment manager, Thierry, came to welcome us and ensure that everything was good. He was a short, slim man with thick hair and an impressive nose, very French, predictably. He flitted about the place like a determined bird, checking supplies and changing out things that did not satisfy him. He was delightful. Once we were settled, we decided to stroll the neighborhood. Our apartment is located in the 5th arrondisement, sometimes referred to as the Latin Quarter, for all the schools here. (Schools used to teach exclusively in the Latin language.) It rapidly became clear, however, that we were lodging in the Geek Quarter. The streets around here are lined with comic book shops and pop culture toy stores. They're all small and specialized, but I was surprised to find myself faced with store front after store front of superheroes and book titles I know from back home. I know there's a huge culture of comics in this country, but it's one thing to know and another thing to witness it firsthand.
We strolled in a spiral fashion out from our block and saw little shops, many cafes, and found a market where we picked up some basics we wanted to have in the apartment. We then settled down at a cafe with a table on the street for a late lunch and people watching. Based on my observations, I, in my jeans, am clearly an American. Elizabeth decidedly cuts a more elegant, more Parisian figure than I do; she chose her wardrobe well and has had male attention since we got on the plane. Lunch was a cheese platter for E, and a salad with cheese and bread for me, a veritable cheese extravaganza, and all of it delicious. We each had a glass of champagne. (Our waiter's comment when Elizabeth ordered "un coupe": "Paris? Champagne!") We then returned to the apartment to put away from groceries, noticing a concert scheduled to be performed at St. Julien this evening on the way. We investigated getting tickets, and then realized we were both so sleepy that it was probably the better part of valor to skip it and count on getting sleep.
We took naps, then got up and out and strolled the Ile de la Cite, getting a look at Notre Dame from the outside, up close and personal. It is, after all, the equivalent of only two blocks from where we're staying. The place is HUGE. It reminded me of the Pyramids; you can't understand how really big it is until you see it in person. We were both gobsmacked. With its rosette window and astonishing flying buttresses* it is breathtaking to see. Its moods change as the light changes, and you always notice something new. We then walked more, found souvenir shops, more lovely-looking cafes, and eventually headed home.
It turns out that our apartment is about a block from Shakespeare & Company. We couldn't resist stopping in to poke around, and then stopped for a glass of wine at a cafe across the street from our building. A soprano sang opera inside while we sat on the street sipping out drinks and watching people go by as the last of the daylight finally faded.
The day ended with me discovering that my adaptors, for a variety of reasons, aren't working with my iPad so I can't upload any photographs I don't take with my iPad. This could probably be solved by a visit to an Apple store, but it's not a priority for me. I'll load pictures as I can, but will save the bulk for my return. Frustrating, but deprioritized. I need to be here enjoying the trip. I'll share the pix when I get home.
And now, seriously, to bed.
*What do you call a female aerialist act that supports the church?