{ Paris: Post 2 }

Otherwise titled ·  Je ne parle pas français

Going to Paris makes me want to quote the movie Sabrina.

Sabrina: I found myself in Paris.

Linus: Why, were you lost?

 

Let me begin by saying . . . I didn't take many photographs in Paris.  And of those I did take, most are bad.  You start out with the best intentions (to document the entirety of your experience), only to find that the weather is finicky, you are being hurried on and off public transportation all day, and there are people and bicycles and cars everywhere, blocking everything.  You soon discover you are hopelessly lost (because naturally you don't speak a lick of French), your feet ache, and for the love of all things good you cannot find a single drop of regular American coffee anywhere to save your life.

Also, the men in France stare like no one’s business.   Not sure what this has to do with taking photographs, but it’s incredibly unnerving all the same.

We started off Saturday morning by visiting Le Puces de St. Ouen, which is presumably the largest flea market in the world.  So we bought some Eiffel tower key chains and post cards, like good tourists.  (Again with Sabrina.  The part where Linus says: Could you bring me one of those little Eiffel tower paper weights?)

We also came across a little shop that had shoe boxes filled to the brim with memorabilia: old photographs, post cards, advertisements, stamps, paper money, etc.  We spent an hour rummaging and left with an envelope full of . . . papers.

Then we had strawberry jam crepes.  Because I’m told that you haven’t really experienced Paris until you have a crepe.

This is not us nor are they eating crepes.  But they were standing in front of us for a long time, so I took their picture.

After which we visited Notre Dame and the Louvre.  (We didn’t actually go inside either.  I didn’t have the patience to stand in line, despite the lure of seeing the original Mona Lisa scowl down at me.)  The buildings were quite beautiful, especially the courtyard of the Louvre.  I mostly took photographs of the people.

Linus: Paris is for lovers. Maybe that's why I stayed only 35 minutes.

In the evening, I got suckered into buying two bracelets.  A man from Kenya approached me and said, “Hey, will you help me a minute?”  And without giving me a chance to reply, he grabbed my wrist, looped some thread around my finger, and began making a wrist band.  He kept saying, “Hey sexy girl, you’ve got to remember Hakuna Matata.”

When Tim rejoined me, someone else made a bracelet for him as well.

What’re you gonna’ do.

We had Thai food for dinner (no need to comment on the oddity of my going to France only to eat Asian fare.  I like my noodles.)  I did try to eat a baguette with cheese during lunch.  The baguette was rock hard and the cheese tasted exactly like mold.  I’m quite sure of it.

Speaking of cheese . . . "Did you know that there are four hundred and fifty-two official government cheeses in [France]? Don't you think that's incredible? To come up with four hundred and fifty-two ways of classifying what is basically a bacterial process?"  Meg Ryan, French Kiss.  "Here it comes!  Lactose intolerance!"

To be continued . . .