Paris



SATURDAY, November 12, 1994.

Bonjour! On Wednesday the 9th we left Liege (which was a relief) for Paris. It takes only about four and half hours to travel from Liege to Paris, yet Ebie has Belgian friends who have never been there! Imagine that! Under 5 hours and $40 away from Paris, and they've never gone. We each carried our big backpacks. My back is still screwed up, but I survived without making it worse (and perhaps strengthened it) which is a good sign. We arrived at dusk in the drizzle at the Gare du Nord and hopped the metro to the Jules Joffrin stop near Deb and Steve's apartment (my aunt and uncle). It's a great apartment in a great location; what a nice thing to own (or to borrow). Walking down the Rue de Poteau from the metro we smelled the aroma from a rotisserie place wafting its way out into the street! Needless to say, we dumped our packs, opened up the apartment and quickly headed back to the rotisserie shop to get a delicious turkey stuffed with garlic before the market closed. The turkey and half a baguette made for a perfect meal. We also bought a few fresh pastries for dessert.

After dinner, we wandered the neighborhood looking for an open cafe but didn't find anything. We'd simply wandered in the wrong direction (having been intimidated by the stairs which would later lead us to Montmartre). We did spot a poster advertising an art exhibit called "Le Riel et l'Imaginaire" which looked cool and managed to remember enough information to find the gallery in the phone book so we could visit it the next day.

Thursday, we were up late and didn't have our act together until noon when we feasted on what became a customarily large number of tasty breakfast treats - croissants, brioche, and pain au chocolat. Then we headed out to the Michele Boulet gallery to see the exhibit that we'd seen advertised which had a number of really cool pieces in it. I especially liked some of the modern paintings on wood. After that, we simply wandered about and found ourselves heading up the Champs Elysses, but not without first indulging in our first of many crepes, this one ham cheese (in French they leave out the "and"). I'd wanted to eat at L'Os A Moelle that night. Ebie called in the morning to make reservations but she wanted to know about that night's menu before committing. The menu wasn't available yet. All up and down the Champs Elysses we tried to phone L'Os A Moelle but kept getting a busy signal. We finally got through and it was booked. Luckily we were able to get an 8 pm reservation at La Dinee, Deb and Steve's other recommendation.

Photos of Paris

By this time it was already almost 7, so we headed back to the apartment to change for dinner. If I do say so myself, we both looked sharp as we headed out. Ebie persuaded me to wear a silk scarf around my neck, which actually looked cool and made me feel kind of French, but had I been in Palo Alto, I would've felt completely ridiculous. Context is everything. The meal at La Dinee was incredibly good. It brought tears of happiness to my eyes. Lest I start sounding like my uncle Steve, it was the best meal I've ever had. I don't have the right words to describe everything, but I'll give you a quick run-down of the meal - it was 5 courses and we shared everything.

Course 1: Eggplant Mille feuille Tomato Stuffed with Lamb

Course 2: Scallops St. Jacque on bed of green cabbage

Crispy Sea Bass on bed of black rice

Course 3: Rabbit with peppercorns, thinly sliced pears Veal with wild mushrooms

Course 4: Bread w banana, melted cheese and walnuts Plate of misc. cheeses

Course 5: Chocolate Mouse with pistachio ice cream (this was no ordinary mouse)

Fried Pears w cinnamon and vanilla ice cream

All this, followed by espresso with chocolates and thin sugar cookies. I also had some red wine with dinner. We left satisfied, but not stuffed. We were there for an effortless 3 hours. Delicious. Delightful. We took a taxi home at midnight and then lay in bed listening to Mozart's Requiem.

Paris is a great city. It's got the hustle of NY; there are always swarms of people in the streets and on the metro. Plus, the city is beautiful - the architecture and the open feeling of the streets. Unlike NY, you don't have to look up in order to see the sky. There's lots of culture, fashion, and great food. I could eat from just the shops on the street where we're staying and be content. The rotisserie shop is just incredible. Plus the fresh breads, well, let's say that it beats the pants off of Cupertino - especially after 9pm - since unlike Cupertino, in Paris, restaurants stay open.


WEDNESDAY, November 16, 1994.

Last Friday was kind of a bad day. We slept in too late and were both grumpy. I was in somewhat of a funk and being very quiet and stewing about something. Elizabeth was saying that she'd decided to bail out of the Rotary program in Liege at the end of December because it wasn't meeting her objectives. She's doesn't like her classes (and she had valid gripes - why should she read Harvard Business School reports in English about American companies while she's in Belgium trying to learn about European business) and she feels neglected by the Rotary. She thought she'd see more interest in her progress from them. We griped to each other and felt grumpy and lethargic. She finally got me talking and got me to complain about life for a while.

We spent some time wandering around Paris that afternoon. We found the gallery district with lots of neat little streets and ended up at a cafe where Sartre and Camus used to go, but we didn't have time for a drink because we needed to make it back to the apartment in time to go to the Rotisserie place again. We hurried back and everything was closed anyway. Because it was Friday night, everything had closed earlier. Bummer. We ended up with some mediocre dinner pastries (salmon, ham and cheese) and some quiche. Oh well. She worked on her business study and I read short stories and sulked. It was a blah day which ended with us talking and in better spirits than it had started.

Saturday, we slept in, woke up happier and again didn't really get started very quickly. We did the laundry and while the stuff was washing, I ran out to the "BHV" department store (bazaar de Hotel de Ville) to get a phone adapter so we could plug in the Powerbook for an e-mail fix. Turns out we didn't need the converter. The Markow's already had one for their answering machine! Oh well.

We managed to get a 10 pm reservation at L'Os Moelle. The day slipped away from us, and we headed out again nicely dressed for dinner. We were running low on French francs and decided to stop at the Eiffel tower to see it up close at night and we figured there would be a "Change" place there. The Eiffel towel was beautiful but there was no change place. We knew it'd be tight paying for the taxi after dinner and hoped the restaurant would let us charge a little extra and give us some change.

The meal at L'Os a Moelle was also delicious. There was a fun, older, French couple at the next table. I loved the man's smile - we connected on a friendly, fun-loving, mutually appreciate of good food level, without speaking a word to each other. The woman had a really cute dog on her lap. The dog and I were also happy to meet each other.

We were not able to get any money! The taxi ride was a thrill as we watched the meter click up to 98FF. We had only 114 to our name! Panic! Panic! At the restaurant, Ebie had drunk the espresso they brought her and promptly became extremely wired. So back at the apartment, Ebie was out of her mind on caffeine (it hardly affected me, maybe I need to cut back again) and very entertaining in a wave her hands around, show tune kind of way.

Sunday we headed to the Pompidou Center and checked out the modern art exhibits. Out front was the usual (heh, I remembered the same scene from my trip in '89) array of caricature artists, musicians, and crazies - including a guy screaming in French and playing a drum kit consisting of two rubber garbage can lids and a banana. We then walked around, past the Louvre (where we were talking about the pyramid and the cool, enormous courtyard), through the park, past a fountain where small French children were playing with miniature sailboats and again up the Champs Elysses to the Arc de Triomphe. We went to the top of the arch where the air was cool, but crisp and enjoyable and watched the ridiculous traffic patterns below. Cars seemed to be pointing in every direction.

In the distance, we could see all of Paris including the Eiffel Tower, the "new city" and the new modern, square arch in the new city which is lined up with the old one. Afterward, we walked to the Seine, had coffee and tea at a little restaurant nearby to warm up and then took a boat ride up and down the Seine to see the sights along the river. It wasn't that exciting. The announcements, which were made in ten languages, went by without me noticing the English ones. One cool thing was the miniature Statue of Liberty on a small island in the river. After the boat ride, we headed home (both of us squirming all the way because we needed to pee, badly) to enjoy the Rotisserie Chicken we cleverly had bought that morning.

After dinner we headed up the stairs to Montmartre where we skipped the guidebook's recommendations and found a cute little piano bar with a few other couples and a charming atmosphere. The walls were covered with several layers of posters advertising various cultural events. I had a tasty alcoholic apple cider drink, Ebie some Perrier. The musician, Jerome, played delightful jazz piano. When Jerome took a break, we asked if I could play the piano and they told me to go ahead, that they hear Jerome all the time and they're sick of him (this all in French between Ebie and our waiter). So I went for it and played a couple of blues. When I stopped and stood up, one of the guys in the bar asked me to play another! The whole time I was so nervous that my hands turned to ice but it was quite a thrill. Now I've got a great story forever about how I played blues piano at Le Tire Bouchon in Montmartre! By the time my grandchildren hear this one, there'll be people dancing on the tables and screaming for more.

From there, we went to another bar with a larger, rowdier crowd doing sing-a-longs with a three piece guitar band, drinking lots, and smoking lots. We just observed the scene, the unsuccessful pickup attempts at the next table, and the timelessness of the lead guitarist's Elvis-like get-up.

Sunday we ate one last killer breakfast, cleaned up the apartment and headed back to Liege. Everything is coming together for my interviews in Rome and Zurich. Tomorrow I will visit with Miles in Cologne, Germany. Then we leave for a mini-trip to Italy which is still in the planning. Today, I went to Brussels to go to WH Smith English Book Store just to buy an Italy guidebook and phrase book.



Copyright 1997 by Bradley Edelman
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E-mail: Brad Edelman