DAY THREE: ALL I KNEED IS A MIRACLE, THE BEST LITTLE CHURCH IN THE WORLD, DINING LIKE ITS 1699 AND THE SHOT HEARD ‘ROUND THE WORLD

The good thing about awaking in the morning is that your body goes into action before your brain can react (Hey, this is G-rated). As I attempted to get out of bed and before I could say “Magic Cream”, I was sitting on the side of the bed with my knees bent and feet on the floor. Had I attempted this feat 12 hours earlier, I would have been screaming loud enough to awaken residents in the sixth arrondissement. It still hurt, but not nearly as much.

Before going out, I rubbed some more of the Voltaren Emulgel (aka Magic Cream) on my knee. I had taken Voltaren pills (a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug) in the past for my RA, but I never knew there was a cream.

I knew I was better moments later when I tripped over a little crack in the street, and I only muttered a four-letter word instead of yelling it out. Tracy and I stopped in a little place down the street and had croissants and café, so I now I was feeling a little more Parisian.

The good news for me was I could walk better. The bad news for Tracy was that I could walk better. After our coffee, we picked up a chocolate and vanilla éclair along with some sort of delicious apple pastry and walked along the Seine. I was limpin’ but not really gimpin’.

It was another glorious day, so we were soaking up the sunshine (well as much as you can soak up sunshine when it is only 37 degrees outside).

We crossed the Seine and visited St-Germain l’Auxerrois (it so happens we ended up visiting a lot of churches I had never been to before on this trip)

After seeing the giant organ at that church, we wandered over to Les Halles and popped into St-Eustache, the place where Richelieu and some other famous folks were baptized. I took a picture of the marble tomb of Jean-Baptiste Colbert, who was some mucky-muck under Louis XIV. I thought I could put that picture at the top of my blog and call it The Colbert Report, but Tracy told me that name had already been taken.

The most famous painting at this church is Rembrandt’s “The Pilgrimage to Emmaus,” but I swear the church had it marked incorrectly, attributing it to another artist whose name, of course, we forgot to write down. I have not seen that mentioned anywhere, so I am assuming (1) we were looking at the wrong painting, (2) I was having a Vicodin flashback (although Tracy saw it, too) or (3) we have discovered something bigger than the Da Vinci Code.

We took a little detour in the Les Halles area and went through one of the passages, and then we decided to make our first metro attempt, since the knee was feeling better.

We had already picked up a carnet of tickets and made our way to the nearest metro, where I attempted to use my ticket. I put my ticket in the slot, walked confidently through…well not through because the door would not open.

Inside the little booth, the lady was screaming (yes, screaming) at me. Now before you think this is a case of blatant anti-Americanism or that I did something foolish (not so far fetched an idea), a couple of French speaking people tried to do the same thing, and the lady in the booth screamed even louder at them.

Suddenly a bunch of guys came over and started putting tape over the turnstiles, and we realized the metro station had been closed for an unknown reason. I kept looking for a French CSI agent, but Tracy said we had more sights to see.

We meandered (love that word) down to my favorite little church on the planet, Sainte-Chapelle. We just love this place, so much so that I even brought some tiny binoculars on this trip to look at the scenes in the stained glass windows.

I actually climbed the little round staircase with little or no pain to the chapelle haute that contains the beautiful stained glass, and once again it was merveilleux. The sun was shining through some of the windows, so we felt quite fortunate.

Even with binoculars, the scenes are a little difficult to discern. Tracy asked how, without binoculars, anyone could have ever figured out in the old days what was portrayed in any of the scenes in the stained glass windows. I told her that Parisians used to eat lots of carrots.

Speaking of food, after taking some photos at Notre-Dame (which had a giant Christmas tree in front), we walked over to Ile-Saint-Louis for a bite to eat at a place called I’ll Try To Find Out Later For You. Beef bourguignon hit the spot on this chilly afternoon, and the restaurant cat, Charley, reminded of us of our tabby, who was probably already plotting a revolt with our tuxedo cat when we get home.

After lunch, I finally got on the metro, and I gimped down the stairs as best as I could, hoping no one was in a rush behind me.

DIGRESSION: I have always been one of those guys to rush and catch the metro when I hear it coming, but on this trip (since running really wasn’t an option), I found that is really pretty stupid during the day, because there is always another metro a couple of minutes later. I guess since we weren’t running, Tracy and I were able to stop and smell the urine (hmm, not as nice a ring as that other phrase). More of my metro impressions (I love the Paris metro system) will be forthcoming in another post.

We zipped over to the Eiffel Tower, took a few pictures, met a couple from Philadelphia who had escaped the London fog for a day, and took the metro back to the de Varenne, because it was now time for a new episode of Hotel Surgery.

Right on time, my newest favorite person on earth, Dr. Save The Trip, arrived with his nurse (aka Mrs. Save The Trip). We went to our room, where he put a nice, new cloth down on the bed, where I sat as he got out the syringe. He put the medicine (which for you old Laker and Chick Hearn fans, I called “Don’t Hurt No More”), put on his gloves, sterilized my knee, put a little mark where the needle was to be inserted and stuck that baby right below the kneecap. I hardly felt a thing.

Had I been able to, I would have gotten down on my knees to thank them, but I thought that might counteract the injection. Instead I thanked him profusely and asked him how much I owed him.

“Nothing,” he said. “Any friends of (our friends back in California) are friends of mine.”

Try as I might, there was no way he was going to accept anything, so I gave them my undying thanks (I’m also in the process of getting them a nice gift, now that I know their address).

He said, “Your knee will get continually better and should be fine in a couple of days (which was good because we had a Friday walking tour scheduled with Michael Osman).” Then like the Lone Ranger and Tonto, it was “Hi Yo Argent, awaaaaay!”

After they left, Tracy and I said it was pretty amazing that a doctor in my hometown wouldn’t take five minutes to help me, but a complete stranger in Paris took a good six or seven hours out of his busy life, didn’t charge me a euro and, basically, saved our entire trip to France.

But discussion about the American medical profession and its shortcomings had to wait, it was time for something much more important…dinner.

We walked down to 36, rue de Grenelle to La Petite Chaise, which is one of the 100 restaurants in Paris that claims to be the oldest restaurant in Paris. We sat downstairs in a cozy little room. For those that care, there was only one other table (that we could hear) of English speaking persons, but we didn’t see very many Americans for the entire week.

The dinner included my favorite (escargot), a delicious canard, a carne agneau (rack of lamb that was delicious and an incredible chocolate cake in a crème anglais. As usual, we also had an apertif, a bottle of good vin rouge and some café. The bill ran a tad over 100 euros.

When we got back to the hotel, our friends (who set in gear the saving of the trip) had sent us a bottle of champagne. Coincidentally, that was where we were headed the very next day. After putting on more magic cream, I had the most restful night I had enjoyed in almost a week. Vive la France!

COMING UP – DAY FOUR: CITIZEN CANE, THE TRAIN TO CHAMPAGNE AND THEN SOME QUICHE LORRAINE, UNBUTTON YOUR DAMN COAT AND THE APPLE(S) OF MY EYE




DAY FOUR: CITIZEN CANE, THE TRAIN TO CHAMPAGNE AND THEN SOME QUICHE LORRAINE, UNBUTTON YOUR DAMN COAT AND THE APPLE(S) OF MY EYE

Tracy and I were up early, because we were going to take a little day trip to the Champagne region (Reims). We walked the short distance to our metro stop:

DIGRESSION: I had read (I think on Trip Advisor) that there was not a metro stop convenient to the Hotel de Varenne. If I remember correctly, the poster said it was at least a ten-minute walk. Tracy and I had walked to the metro stop (although couldn’t go because of my bum knee) a couple of days before, and even Mr. Gimpo here could navigate the walk in less than five minutes.

When two very sleepy tourists (us) got to the top of the stairs leading down to the metro, I wanted to take a quick look at the metro map for the best way to get to Gare de l’Est, where we would take the train to Reims. “This should only take a second,” I told her.

Tracy and I were standing right next to each other when, suddenly, we were accosted (well, that was my first inclination) by an unknown assailant. We felt a body crash into us, put his arms around us and grope us. “Aha,” I thought. “My first-ever time being pick pocketed.”

In a flash, I was able to remember all my martial arts training (which consisted of watching a Bruce Lee movie for about ten minutes). Using my newfound strength in my right knee, I pivoted like an NBA star and flung the attempted thief backward as far as a 54-year-old arthritic guy with a bum knee and no caffeine in his system could fling.

As the scoundrel flew backward at an accelerated pace, I caught my first glimpse of him, and he looked nothing like I thought he would from his initial burst into our serene morning. He was wearing big sunglasses and carrying a cane. Since it was still dark out, there could only be one observation made, and it wasn’t a pretty one.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, I almost sent a blind man flying onto his keister. Fortunately, as he stumbled backwards, a couple passing by were able to break his fall. The blind man collected himself, smiled and moved on. Or was he blind?

Yes, he did have sunglasses and carried a cane, but could it have been a devious ruse in order to steal my wallet or our passports? Fortunately those valuables were hermetically sealed in my front jeans’ pocket covered by my new overcoat, which I bought before I left.

In any event, the entire episode was better than a double espresso in getting our juices flowing, so it was on to Reims, where my overcoat would play another role in the day’s activities.

The train ride to Reims takes less than two hours, and for the first time since we arrived, gray skies greeted us as we got off the train.

We walked into town, in search of the cathedral. We found the tourist office, bought our audio guide for Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Reims and off we went.

What I remember most about this church was the cool façade (some of the outside has been cleaned, while some still needs a good scrubbing) and the fantastic rose window (I have a really good picture of that). The audio guide tour takes a little more an hour.

We then stopped in a little store, and Tracy bought some Veuve-Clicquot and very neat champagne cover, which keeps it chilled. As I attempted to pay, my umpteenth wardrobe malfunction was finally too much for Tracy to handle.

DIGRESSION: Living in Southern California, I have never owned an overcoat that goes as far down as my knees. That, of course, is because (until last week), I’ve never needed one here. Knowing that temperatures would be in the upper 20s and low 30s at night in Paris, and that I am a wimpy (except when I’m beating up blind people) Southern Californian, we decided this might be a good time to own one. When trying it on at the store, I told Tracy it kind of gave me the look of a secret agent. Tracy can really roll her eyes when she wants to.

Anyway, back to the wardrobe malfunction. For the past few days, I had my overcoat buttoned down all the way. Whenever, I needed to get money or metro tickets out of my pants pocket, it looked like I was having a stroke as I flailed around trying to unbutton my coat from the bottom, reach in my pockets and grab my wallet. It looked like I was doing a bad Steve Martin “Wild and Crazy Guy” impersonation, and Tracy told me I looked like a complete idiot (which, as you know, happens on every trip).

Well, after learning the intricacies of an overcoat, we walked through the Christmas booth maze to La Lorraine, a bar/brasserie that looked cute. Tracy had the Quiche Lorraine (a natural), while I opted for some onion soup gratinée and my first helping of pommes frites. It was then I made my first tour guide error.

We were going to go to Veuve-Clicquot for a champagne tasting, but it didn’t leave us much time to make the train and get back to Paris. Had I known there was one an hour later, I would have gone, but my bad knee that previous Sunday precluded me from doing my last minute planning (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it). At least we had champagne for lunch.

We walked through town (I liked Reims) and walked behind the train station to the Surrender Museum, which served as Dwight Eisenhower’s headquarters in 1945 and where the Germans signed (one of) the surrender papers. Tracy and I were the only visitors.

I like reading about World War II, so this was mildly interesting, since the rooms have been left just like it was back in 1945. If you have some extra time, I would recommend it. It still looks like they are trying to add some things to make it more interesting. There is also a short film, and since there was no one else in the museum, for once I didn’t have to yell at anybody for talking through the movie.

The train ride home was much shorter, because we both fell asleep. Thankfully Paris is the last stop or we might still be on it.

We got back to the hotel and quickly showered, because we had 8:30 reservations at a restaurant that had Tracy concerned. But before we ate, we took the metro to see two department stores that we were told would be fun to see during the Christmas season, Printemps and Galeries Lafayette.

Both had some pretty amazing decorations, and they were open late this Thursday. It was only a few days until Christmas and it was fun to see people scurrying and worrying about buying last minute presents and, for once, knowing I didn’t have to be one of them.

We walked along boulevard Haussmann until we finally found my restaurant choice of the evening (I forgot how confusing the number system is on these streets, so I thought we were going to end up back in Reims before I found the restaurant). Pomze is located at 109 boulevard Haussmann (which I think is located next to 927 boulevard Haussmann), and, if you can’t tell by the name, specializes in dishes (and it turned out drinks) made from, what else, apples.

Now the reason why Tracy was a tad bit concerned was, well let me put this gently; oft times it seem apples cause an effect in her husband that creates noise, foul smells and occasional looks of anger from my most beloved wife (how’s that for beating around the bush).

The restaurant is modern, with a bar and store located downstairs. Upstairs, there is a main dining room and a few smaller rooms, where we ate. There was a birthday bash in the main room that evening with the piano and singing going non-stop. It actually sounded better (aka not as loud) from where we were sitting. The place was fun.

We dined on a chestnut cream soup (made with apple dices flambé with calvados – more on calvados later), scallops with an apple chutney risotto, a beef filet with morels and apple-polenta, an apple crumble with gingerbread ice cream and a caramelized apple cheesecake.

We had chatted with the owner a couple of times during dinner, and as we left, he asked whether we had sipped any of the Calvados. When I told him we had not, he escorted us down to the bar (how he knew we liked liquor I have no idea, except for the martini and bottle of wine we ordered with dinner).

He and the bartender then gave us a short course on Calvados, how it is made, fermented and other interesting Calvados’ facts. Of course the proof is in the pudding, so I bought one, saying I had not especially liked previous Calvados I had tried. This one, however, was very tasty. It tasted much more like an apple brandy.

The bartender then said, “If you like that, try this one from 1964.” Before I could ask him the price, he smiled and said, “This one’s on the house.” It was spectacular, and I thanked them. We enjoyed Pomze and its staff was professional, but very fun (always a good combo).

Before we hopped on the metro back to the hotel, we took some cool photos of Printemps and Galeries Lafayette. Some of them even came out.

We got back around midnight and went directly to bed because tomorrow we had a rendezvous at 9:30 a.m. with Michael Osman, the Paris walking tour guide guru. He was going to give us his special guided, half-day tour of the Louvre (that I had actually won for writing that trip report about Italy in 2005), but circumstances would dictate a deviation and detour in those walking tour plans, and we would not step inside the Louvre at all on that Friday.

As we went to sleep that night, Tracy and I could have had no idea that the following day would be the most fun and informative nine hours we had ever spent in Paris, courtesy of one Mr. Osman.

COMING UP - DAY FIVE: WALK TILL YOU DROP, THE ATTACK OF THE NEWSPAPER MAN, IS THAT SPERM IN THE PANTHEON AND FORK IT OVER YOU STUPID AMERICAN

DAY FIVE: WALK TILL YOU DROP, THE ATTACK OF THE NEWSPAPER MAN, IS THAT SPERM IN THE PANTHEON AND FORK IT OVER YOU STUPID AMERICAN

We woke up with a dilemma. Looking out the window as daylight finally arrived, it looked like it was going to be another spectacularly sunny day. On the other hand, we had Michael Osman arriving in a little less than an hour to take us on a tour of the Louvre. I could see Karl Malden as I thought, “What do you do? What do you do?”

As mentioned, Tracy and I had won a half-day tour with Michael on SlowTravel thanks to them liking my story about our Italian trip in 2005 (finally there was a reason why I put the wrong gas in the car). I really had no idea what to expect of Michael, since I had not read a lot about him before, other than he was an artist and was from Philadelphia. Was he fun? Was he stodgy? Was he interesting? Only time would tell.

I was in the bookstore (foreshadowing for later that morning) next to the hotel when he arrived and met Tracy (at least he knew that ½ of his contingent was normal). As soon as I met Michael, I knew that stodgy was out while fun and interesting were definitely in.

He was wearing a black hat, had a satchel under one arm and, as we were to find out, he had a lot more than a satchel full of information and tidbits about Paris. If you could picture in your mind the person you would want to give you a tour, this guy was it.

I sheepishly inquired whether he could change from a Louvre Tour to an outside walking tour. He replied that he had his Louvre game face on, but that he loved walking in Paris, so he replied, “Let’s see what happens.” I love spontaneity.

We walked through the Place de Concorde to the metro, where we rode to the Bastille area, passing by the Louvre. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Michael said. I hesitated, but said, “Yes.”

When we got off the metro, Michael showed us where we could go on a boat ride that would take us through locks. I hadn’t known that this little trip existed, and it sounded interesting for a future Paris trip (when it’s a little warmer).

On that morning, he first gave us a little Bastille history and as we walked through the Marais, he gave us information about Caron de Beaumarchais and his influence on the American Revolutionary War.

Then it was on to the Place des Vosges and more fun facts.

We walked through a courtyard to a bookstore in an old residence near the Place des Vosges where I suffered the second attack in two days, this time by a crazed Frenchman carrying a wadded up newspaper. As I was about to go through the door, the man (possibly retaliating for my pummeling of a blind man only 26 hours earlier on the other side of town), starting shouting in a crazed, and I might say, drunken barrage.

He then took his wadded up newspaper and beat me about the head and shoulders as I attempted to go in. I had learned yesterday that my now superhuman powers could nearly cause a blind guy to be hurled feet (perhaps yards) backward, so instead of retaliating from this merciless pummeling, I sought refuge in the Paris travel book section. I told them there was no bruising, but I believe I saw the remnants of newsprint on my new overcoat. It was at this point both Tracy AND Michael gave me the look.

Michael had taken us to the store because there are some very good books about Paris, although not all of them are in English.

After showing us a piece of the old Paris wall from the 11th and 12th centuries, Michael took us through the Jewish quarter of the Marais and showed us where an assassin killed six people at the Goldenberg restaurant on rue de Rosiers in August of 1982. He gave us a very interesting overview of the Marais and how it has changed through the years.

We then ducked into the Musée Carnavalet – Historie de Paris. Michael gave us a greatest hits tour, which took us to the paintings about the French Revolution, which included many going to their inglorious ends.

There’s nothing like some pictures of people getting their heads chopped off by a guillotine to give a person an appetite. After visiting Saint Paul’s church, the three of us had lunch outside at a little place just over the Seine on Ilé Saint-Louis. I had my first-ever Croques Monsieur, and it was trés delicious.

As we had crossed the bridge to the restaurant, the Pantheon loomed in the distance, through what Michael called “an impressionistic haze (I’ve got to use that the next time people come to our home near Los Angeles and complain about the smog).” It was also interesting how the sun never rose very high during the day at this time of year, which makes for some difficult picture taking at times.

After lunch, it was decision time again. It was still gorgeous, and Michael asked what we wanted to do. For some reason, I had never gone to the Pantheon on any previous visits, so I said, “Let’s head up there.”

We stopped by a church on the way (I cannot remember the name), and Michael said it was unlike the others. “You’ll see,” he said.

It wasn’t because of the church interior; it was the people that were a little, uh, off. I guess they don’t get a lot of visitors, because they were much more religious, and as we exited the church one guy was giving me “the look” of a different kind, the blank kind. It was a little weird, but well worth the experience to witness the Stepford Parishioner.

We walked up to the Pantheon, and when we got inside there were white nylon things hanging down from the ceiling, and they were filled with white Styrofoam. It looked like something out of Woody Allen’s “Everything You Wanted to Know About Sex.” Indeed, without too much imagination, they looked like sperm. “I never had anything like this in sixth-grade Sex-Ed,” I said.

I have no idea why we had never visited the Pantheon, but I liked it (even with the sperm hanging down). The only down side was that the crypts were closed that day, which was sad because, like that kid in the movie, “I like seeing dead people.”

As we walked out, and impressionistic haze shrouded the Eiffel Tower. Love that damn phrase.

Next stop was the nearby church of Saint Etienne-du-Mont, and we weren’t going to let a little thing like a funeral get in the way of tourism. Fortunately Michael knew the back entrance to the church where a few pieces of St. Genevieve, the patron saint, of Paris still reside, and where we would not disturb the people at the funeral.

Michael wanted to show us a back room where there are some spectacular pieces of stained glass that can be viewed. It was cool to be able to actually stand within an arm’s length of these pieces, because you could actually see the story that was depicted within each frame.

We bid au revoir to Genevieve and headed for the rue de Mouffetard and its shops, restaurants, patisseries, cafes and open markets. It has a great Parisian flavor to it (there was an organ grinder in front of one store and some kids were shooting a low budget movie on one of the side streets).

The markets are a little different from your farmers’ market at home. The fowl they sell still have the feathers (to show its freshness) while behind one of the counters there hung a freshly killed rabbit (I didn’t stick around long enough to watch them split hares).

In our quest to visit all ethnicities, our next stop was the Paris Mosque. It was nearing dusk, so we didn’t have a lot of time, but we ducked inside and there is a tearoom, a restaurant (that was very colorful and looked charming) along with a spa. We didn’t get back on this trip, but have marked it down for our next Paris experience.

We scurried through the Jardine des Plants and found Michael’s favorite carrousel in Paris, the one next to the Musée National d’ Historie Nuturelle. It had dinosaurs and other exotic creatures instead of horses. As a fan of Godzilla (only the one with Raymond Burr, please), it was fun. We also got a fun picture of a dragon in the park (not a real one, of course. It looked like it was made out of recycled cans).

Speaking of draggin’, we were all pretty tired by now from our Michael Marathon, so he decided for us to catch a bus back to the Place de Concorde, where we had virtually started our day.

We got on the #24 bus, but as we made a right turn over the Seine, Michael said, “This is strange. The bus is headed in the wrong direction.” Within a few minutes the opera lay ahead, Michael told us that we had just passed near Harry’s Bar (trip report foreshadowing again) and we were headed toward Printemps.

It just so happens that earlier in the day Michael had said the roof of Printemps gives you an amazing view out over Paris at night. As the bus headed toward the Printemps stop, Michael said, “You guys want to go see the view?”

Well, we never met a view we didn’t like, so up the 12,000 escalators we rode to the top of Printemps. Out on the roof, the view was mind-boggling. We got there just after 6 p.m., and the Eiffel Tower was doing its light show incroyable with what looked like a million sparkling colors dancing like a freaked-out 80s’ disco. Wow!

Behind us was Sacré-Coeur, basking in its lights on its façade. Other monuments (the Madeleine in its blue lights was astounding) and churches throughout Paris were lit, and words cannot describe how beautiful and exhilarating the experience was for us.

We told Michael that we had probably worn him out enough for the day, so we all walked back together to the metro station where we were to say good-bye. Sadly, our guide then had to be witness to another Maitaitom wardrobe malfunction.

Michael’s tour went above and beyond the call of duty, so I thought it would be nice to give him a substantial tip. Unfortunately I had worn my tighter black jeans on this day. Located inside my right front pocket were our two passports and my wallet, containing the aforementioned tip. I had also buttoned down my coat too far…again.

As I moved away from Michael and Tracy in a surreptitious attempt to get out my wallet, I started to go into my “wild and crazy guy” routine. I think Michael was about to call the Paris paramedics when Tracy said, “Oh no, it’s just my stupid husband trying to get his wallet out of his pocket.” Well, so much for the surprise tip, eh?

We bid farewell to Michael (and told him we’d take that Louvre Tour the next time we visited), and as we headed back to the hotel, we both marveled at how fun the day had been. If anyone wants an up close and personal guide to Paris, Michael gets our highest recommendation. He is very informative but above all, he is just a joy to spend the day with and learn about Paris.

The evening was still young, so we hopped in the shower, hopped on the metro and out we went. We had dinner reservations at Le Tastévin on the Ilé Saint Louis.

We were going to be late for our 8:30 reservation, so I hurried ahead of Tracy to make sure our table was still there, opened the door and saw…no one! Yep, we were the only people there (a few minutes later, others started trickling in).

Now, I have never been known as Mr. Etiquette, but I do have a sense of decorum and have not embarrassed anyone too much at a meal (well, since I was 40). I have never noticed that in some restaurants in Paris, the forks by your plate are turned downward.

We ordered our dinner and a bottle of wine, and as we sat there chatting, I fiddled with my turned-down fork. Suddenly my mother was reincarnated in the form of the restaurant owner. If she’d had a ruler, she would have smacked my hand.

“You are in Paris. In Paris, the fork is always turned down,” she said, and she didn’t have that Colgate smile when she relayed this startling information to me. Needless to say, I didn’t move that damned fork until my dinner came, because I think she had a secret peephole in the wall to spy on unsuspecting Americans who play with their forks when she leaves the room.

The dinner (except for the fork incident) was uninspiring, but the molten chocolate cake for dessert was phenomenal. I would not recommend the place, even if the owner was a tad less obsessive-compulsive about her forks. Not until the last night of our trip did we encounter another restaurant where the fork was turned down. Fortunately, that restaurant was sans peepholes.

It had been a long day, as we didn’t get home until nearly midnight, but one that shall long be remembered.

COMING UP – DAY SIX: THE INFAMOUS RUE CLER, A GRAND EXHIBITION, OUR TAKE ON THE LILIES, WALK LIKE AN EGYPTIAN AND FINALLY FLORIMAND

Thanks, Tom! Now just keep it coming . . .

Faaabulous, got my wine, comfy chair..waiting for more....

ditto...

Nice recovery, maitaitom.

Looking forward to the rest.

Anselm

OOHHHHHHH ..I thought there would be new stuff here already..Please, Sir, may I have some more!

Maitaitom,

We will actually be staying on Ile Saint Louis for our vacation, and you mentioned this place;

"After visiting Saint Paul’s church, the three of us had lunch outside at a little place just over the Seine on Ilé Saint-Louis. I had my first-ever Croques Monsieur, and it was trés delicious"

Do you happen to remember the name of this place? Was it a cafe or a restaurant? Thanks for another post of your trip report!

Thank God I found you maitaitom! I was going bleary-eyed on the other post! Still loving this report...can't wait for the next installment!

Count me as another impatient one here! Sounds like a great trip, and I am still laughing over the blind man episode!

Maitaitom,
Thanks for rescuing your wonderful trip report.
And I too thought the blind man episode was hilarious. Keep up the good work, this is a classic.

TTT

Great reading. I can only picture the scene in the metro with the blind (?) man. Looking forward to more.

aww, you psyched me out - I thought we were going to get more! I love it so far!

i'm trying to decide if I need to redo mine b/c I forgot to put trip report in my title of a "Free Man (and Woman) in Paris, Unfettered and Alive".

Maitaitom, You are always readable, but now even moreso. Next episode please!

looking forward to more!

"Do you happen to remember the name of this place? Was it a cafe or a restaurant?"

I did not, but I sent an e-mail to the "Walking Man" (Michael Osman), who sent me back a nice e-mail this morning.

He said, "Our lunch spot on the Ile Saint Louis was called Le Lutétia, 33 quai Bourbon. I'm a big fan of this place because they have terrific daily specials."

Bookmarking so I get to read the rest.

What fun! More, more!!

DAY SIX: THE INFAMOUS RUE CLER, A GRAND EXHIBITION, OUR TAKE ON THE LILLIES, WALK LIKE AN EGYPTIAN AND FINALLY FLORIMOND

We got a pretty early start on the day, and the sky was still blue on Saturday morning, but that would change as the day progressed.

We headed in the direction of the Hotel des Invalides and Napoleon’s Tomb. I told Tracy that a few days ago I felt that I should be staying at the Hotel of Invalids. You’d think she would get used to my jokes after all these years.

After seeing Napoleon’s coffin within a coffin within a coffin, etc., we started toward that Fodor’s point of contention street, The Rue Cler. We detoured a couple of blocks down the av de la Motte-Picquet to Le Florimond, a restaurant I have always wanted to go to, but for some reason had not.

Although early in the morning, the restaurant door was open, so I popped in was fortunate enough to get reservations at 9:15 that evening (fortunate because this was the last night they would be open for a couple of weeks due to the holidays).

Then it was on to the Rue Cler, a street that has gained the disdain of some, many of who also disdain the man who has sent a plethora of Americans there, that R.S. character.

Well gang, we like the rue Cler and have liked it since the first time we visited about 9 years ago. It’s a nice little walking street with cute shops and restaurants, some markets and a damned good patissiere. Since the last time we visited, a really cool Italian deli has opened up, and the line was very long. For such a charming little street it certainly conjures up a lot of emotion on the board, but for us the only emotion was peaceful.

After downing our morning croissants and coffee, we walked across the Seine to the Grand Palais, a building that I have taken many pictures of, but had never gone in. It had been closed for more than a decade until last year, so finally we got our chance to see the inside of the building.

There was an exhibition of some undersea treasures from Egypt on display at the Grand Palais, but truthfully I was more interested in the architecture of the building. After seeing as many underwater treasures as a couple could see on one viewing (but not as many Egyptian artifacts as you will read later), Tracy and I exited and walked to the Champs Elysées, the avenue we don’t particularly care for, but since we were in a walking mood, we said, “Why not? Maybe we can find an elusive baby gift we were looking for.”

As I stopped to take a picture of Tracy in a little area with Christmas trees and fake snow, our friend the sun bid us au revoir. Wind, clouds and a drop in temperature replaced our sunny day experience, and I don’t think we really saw the sun again the entire trip.

After walking up to (but not up) the Arc de Triomphe, and as the temperature seemed to turn colder and colder, it was time for lunch. We chose the brassiere, L’Alsace (I’m pretty sure that’s the correct name).

We had some onion soup, a nice steak in a béarnaise sauce and pommes frites. It was funny, however, because Tracy’s onion soup came with the cheese already in the soup, while it seemed the French family next to us put their own cheese into their onion soup. Perhaps one of you French food experts could explain that little detail to us.

Another wardrobe malfunction nearly cost me dearly as we were to leave. In my futile attempt to be a smooth dresser while buttoning my coat and putting my gloves on, I had forgotten that my camera bag (with my nice camera in it) was still underneath the table. I was so happy I hadn’t knocked any dishes off the table while getting ready to go outside, I had blanked out on the camera.

Fortunately, the alert server found the bag and said, “Look, I now have a brand new camera.” He had a big smile, handed me the bag and disaster was averted. I didn’t feel as badly for over tipping at that point.

It was early afternoon, but it was getting dark fast. Our next stop was Musée l’Orangerie and Monet’s famous Water Lilies. There was a line to get in, but the old museum pass let me bypass that line to go through security and then the next line to buy tickets.

DIGRESSION: Usually we get our money’s worth by purchasing the Museum Pass, no matter how many days we buy it for. On this trip, we probably didn’t quite recoup all the money we spent on them, but my favorite part of having one is just watching the faces of people in a long line as we scoot by them through the door and out of sight. Yes, there is an evil side of maitaitom.

Speaking of evil, many of you might think me even more evil after I give you our short review of the Water Lilies, contained in two rooms at the museum. I will preface this by saying I like a lot of Monet’s paintings. We really did not care at all for the Water Lilies. Maybe it was because it was so much in one contained area or maybe the expectations were so high, but the whole thing fell flat for me. It sort of looked like a big blob.

There are more paintings downstairs, and we didn’t really like those exhibits either. Of course, we aren’t art critics nor do we play ones on television, so I think you should go and see for yourself.

After a visit to a bookstore across from L’Orangerie, we walked down to the Louvre. Unfortunately there were no people to taunt with our museum card, so in we went.

The Mona Lisa had never been one of my favorite paintings (although I didn’t dislike it), but after talking with Michael the day before, I wanted to see it in its “new” place in the Louvre.

Michael had said the paintings in the room with “Mona” were better complements than the ones where she had been before, and I agreed. We saw some of the other greatest hits, too.

I did see my favorite Louvre painting, The Coronation of Napoleon, by Jacques-Louis David. Actually, I liked many of his paintings and have a goal to learn more about the artist.

After walking around for a while, both Tracy and I (well, really our legs) decided it was time to head back to the hotel.

It was at this point that Tracy and I found the Twilight Zone of the Louvre. She thought she had found a sign for the exit, but instead, there’s the signpost up ahead, we had been transported to “The Egyptian Zone.” I swear I saw Rod Serling’s face behind an Egyptian mask.

For the next several hours (ok, it wasn’t that long, but it seemed like it), we saw more sarcophagi than King Tut’s relatives. At one point, I felt like putting on a pith helmet and excavating for ruins. Now I know why they put a pyramid over the damned thing. Somehow we finally got out, and I was just happy it was still Saturday.

We then bought some baby gifts at the overpriced Louvre ‘R Us store and proceeded back to the hotel.

Since we didn’t have reservations until 9:15 p.m., and it was still relatively early, what can two healthy (relatively anyway) Americans do to pass the time? Umm, we’ll skip that part, but the champagne that followed was delicious.

Finally, it was time to go to Le Florimond, which has been mentioned on this and other travel boards frequently. It is quite small, and since we got there a little early (I call it American early dinner-interruptus), we had to wait for a few minutes in a little space between the door and a curtain, which had been put up to keep the cold wind out when the door opens. I asked Tracy if there would be applause when the curtain opened, and she pretended to be French.

We walked in moments later and were seated next to the small bar (coincidence, I think not). Florimond is the type of place that screams “charming little French bistro.” Tracy started with some champagne while I had their special drink (now dubbed a Florimond in their honor), which has fresh squeezed orange juice, vodka and Grand Marnier.

When we ordered, I thought our server looked familiar, and sure enough, it was Ray Romano. I was glad to see he had a job after “Everyone Loves Raymond.” Of course, it wasn’t really him, but he looked like him and was actually a little bit funnier than Ray.

Dinner was good…especially mine. Lobster ravioli was followed by the face-a-face, which was a delicious steak and a beef stew with scalloped potatoes (beef, it’s what’s for dinner). Tracy said her cabbage dish (grandma’s recipe, I believe), wasn’t the greatest, but she still loved the restaurant thanks to the ravioli dish and her new favorite ice cream for dessert.

The whole dinner was topped off with a chocolate pastry-type thing (sorry, I’m not a food critic) with dark chocolate ice cream and a mandarin sauce. Tracy had the three glacés of vanilla, dark chocolate and her new favorite, caramel. This is a place we will definitely return to on our next visit, and I would recommend it wholeheartedly.

PLEA: If you go in the near future, there is a wine on the menu that was recommended by Ray (well, that’s what I call him). It was a red wine called Chateau “I Forgot Like A Moron What It Is Called.” It was only 20 euros. We loved it, but, of course, forgot the name on the way back to the hotel and the restaurant was closed for the rest of time in Paris. If you happen to be there, a heads up would be greatly appreciated.

When we got back to our hotel, it was after midnight, and we realized it was Christmas Eve. There were no presents to wrap, no pie to bake to bring to my sister’s house and no decision on who was to be the designated driver. I was in total vacation mode.

COMING UP: DAY SEVEN – CHRISTMAS EVE – PARIS STYLE

loving it!

Yay, he's back - and well worth the wait!

That is so funny about trying to find the exit for the Louvre. My friend and I had exactly that experience in Novmenber. We saw Sortie and we sorties and then came to a dead end and found and door and there we were back at the sarcophigus. So we tried it again with a one sortie and a dough-see-dough and there we were again. By then it was getting late so I was about to grab a pillow from textiles and just curl up in the sarcophigus for the night and try it again in the morning. At my age I would have blended in perfectly as just part of the scenery. As for the Water Lilies. Luckily, the Orangerie was NOT very croweded when we were there so I could sit on the benches and really take in the paintings. I think on days that the place is packed it will really be hard to truly appreciate them because one will have mobs of people walking between you and paintings. I always like to look at the painting up close at first because it just amazes me how a painter knows that all those funny little squiggles will actually take a shape and be so beautiful when viewed from afare.

Hi, MTT.
I'm relieved to know that I am not the only one who is not ga-ga over Mona. I think it is just a nice little brown painting.
Glad I found the new thread. Love it!
Judy

Oh, I am so glad you moved this and that I found it. I was getting nauseous trying to read the other one!

Loved the blind guy story...or was he really blind? When we were getting on the metro in Paris, a guy behind me at the turnstile bumped into me and spilled a bit of his drink on my shoulder...WELL, I was well aware of that old trick. I whipped around and gave him a Look of Death....and it was actually a business man who had bumped into me and spilled a bit of his drink on my shoulder.

Oh, Tom, I am reading your report feeling your pain - almost literally. For a week right before the flight I was not sure if my vacation will happen or not. It's such a difficult decision to make!

I'm seriously thinking now of getting cancellation insurances for all future trips, do you? I wonder how long my thought will last, a month? less then that?

Many years ago we got lost while trying to exit the Louvre. Found ourselves in a "back office" environment. Restorers, etc. toiling away. Nobody paid any attention to us as we traipsed through. Forget how we finally got out. But, I wonder, if in these days of high security such a mistake is still possible.

Ahh, this report is really making me want to be in Paris right now. I love the imagery your words evoke. I love the line about Tracy pretending to be French. What a hoot!

TR

Maitaitom,

Thanks so much for emailing Michael Osman about your dining spot on Ile Saint Louis - I'll be noting it down for our trip later this year!

Having been trapped in the Egyptian section of the Louvre twice, I now fear ever entering the place again.

Thanks for the great report.

On the soup and cheese question: are you sure your neighbors had ognion soup? Generally that is served with the cheese melted on it already. Fish soup, however, comes with grated cheese to sprinkle on top.

I can't wait.. Christmas Eve in Paris.

You write so wonderfully-just like being there!

The Monet Museum actually is a much better presentation of the water lillies-even though it is a large room of multiples, they are mostly gorgeous.

And the knee? How goes it?

By the way, the magic cream I think you got in France IS available in the US (are you in the US?)--but you have to go to certain pharmacies that make their own compounds. I have no idea what's in it, but it works great-great-great! You'll need a scrip from your doctor.

I love your trip reports, and I'm enjoying this one very much!

Thanks for another great report. When and where is the next trip?

Tom

Thanks. Hi, more late this afternoon (after work).

Glad to know I'm not alone in getting lost with my Egyptian friends at the Louvre.

Louie, thanks for clearing up the soup issue.

TRSW - My next trip could be an all timer. Four of my middle-aged buddies and myself are traveling to Cooperstown in July to see the induction of Tony Gwynn in the Baseball Hall of Fame (yeah, I know Cal is going in, too, but we're Padre fans). We also have two nights in New York City.

We were too late to book a hotel in Cooperstown, so the five of us are staying in two RV's (stationary) at a campground near Oneonta, NY. If we live to tell about it, the adventure should make for an interesting report. The snoring alone will be heard throughout the greater United States.

Interesting comment about the Lilies. Do you think they would have made more of an impression if they had been presented a little more coyly, say one by one, instead of thrown at the viewer en masse?

How about if you had been given a viewing as a prize for getting through all those sarcophagi in the Louvre?

And thanks again for reviving the report.

Just looking for more!!

I kept wondering why your other post had stopped...so, duh, I finally clicked on your name and ***VOILA!*** here you are. Phew! I'm so glad you've continued this. It's a wonderful trip report.

DAY SEVEN – CHRISTMAS EVE/PARIS STYLE

Our string of blue-sky mornings ended, but there was no need to worry with my big, black, cumbersome, disaster-waiting-to-happen overcoat to keep me warm. Besides, it was Christmas Eve.

We got a relatively early start and headed toward the St. Germain area. It was of paramount importance that we stop and savor the obligatory coffee and croissant (or two) at a little neighborhood place we ducked into. I believe I now weighed close to 800 pounds.

It was basically a morning of window-shopping, from a cool little store with fun umbrellas to a great store full of old-style travel posters (the kind you frame and put on a wall, not the ones who write overly long trip reports).

By 11 a.m. (or as I like to call it, “Early Cocktail Hour”), I stopped at a little booth along St. Germain and mulled over having a cup of Vin Chaud, which I did. We had passed many signs for hot wine throughout the week, so it just seemed like a good time to try it. I don’t think it was the hour of the day, but I can’t imagine ever getting a taste for Vin Chaud. Of course, I finished it.

With the smell of Vin Chaud on my breath, we stopped at St-Germain-des-Prés, one of the oldest churches in Paris. I told Tracy I wanted to light a candle for my liver, but we decided that would be in bad taste.

Although we already had reservations at Rotisserie Du Beaujolais that night, we checked out the area to see how many restaurants would be open on this night, considering this was both Sunday and Christmas Eve. In the vicinity of where we were at the moment, both Allard and Le Christine had Christmas Eve dinners with slightly inflated prices going on that night. We also checked out the restaurant where I wanted to dine before we left Paris, Chez Fernand on rue Christine. Alas, it was closed.

The Vin Chaud must have gone to my head by this point, because the next thing I knew Tracy was in some jewelry store, and all I remember is, “How many euros do you have on you?” I don’t even know if it was Tracy or the clerk who asked the question. By the time I answered, Tracy had some new earrings and a necklace. Love to buy the bling, baby!

In need of some food, we stopped by a little place and picked up a Jambon y Emmenthaler sandwich, which just has such a better sound than ham and cheese. It was then on to the candy store to buy a gift for Tracy’s grandmother.

By now I had the overcoat problem pretty well solved, so Parisians stood in awe as I quickly removed my gloves, retrieved my wallet, pulled out the money and then reversed the process. As my gloves were safely back on my hands, I thought I heard someone say, “Mon Dieu, David Copperfield?”

I was now navigating stairs with ease, so we headed to the nearest metro station.

DIGRESSION: Someone on a post not too long ago said the metros in Paris were depressing. I must respectfully disagree. While I love walking in Paris, taking the metro is an expedient and efficient way to get to where you want to go next, and deciphering how the system works should only take a newcomer about a minute to figure out once in town. Plus, it’s great when the temperatures dip below freezing.

I find it amazing how the entire system was constructed with its labyrinth of tunnels, stairways and escalators. Since I grew up in Los Angeles, a place where the phrase rapid transit was an oxymoron for decades (and still is to a large extent), I marvel at how easy it is to get from Point A to Point B or even to Point H in Paris.

There must be pickpockets (because I read threads about them), but in eight trips here, I have never felt threatened or scared on a metro. We watch our personal belongings carefully, and maybe I hold on to my camera a little tighter.

I also know there are beggars in the tunnels. Unfortunately, the less fortunate are a way of life not only in Paris, but in countless major and not so major cities worldwide.

And, while not all the musicians who send their distinctive sound cascading throughout the tunnel maze will be confused for Mozart, there are others playing instruments who make the halls resonate with musical magic.

Now, it’s back to Christmas Eve. We took the metro and got off at the Opera, but decided we would wait until the day after Christmas to go see the inside (hey, we have to save something). Since we were near Harry’s Bar, we thought we’d see if it was open. No dice (or martinis).

It was getting darker, so we started walking back to the hotel, where we finished the champagne from Kim and Mary that we started the previous evening.

Before we headed toward La Rotissere Du Beaujolais, we walked over to the Place Vendome, which was really decked out for the holiday. Spotlights zoomed in on Napoleon at the top of the column. There were lots of white lights shining all around, and the entrance to the Ritz was particularly stunning with white Christmas trees and lighting in one part that sent off a beautiful bluish tint.

At 7:30 or so we were at the entrance of Notre Dame with hundreds of our closest friends, who were in line for mass. A mass was playing on giant jumbotrons in front of the cathedral, and I thought for a moment about taking a picture, cropping it and saying we were in there, too. But that would have been wrong.

The huge Christmas tree in front of Notre Dame was lit, and for some reason, it just looked better on Christmas Eve than it had the other night we looked at it. People were clamoring to get their pictures taken in front of the tree, and the atmosphere was festive.

We walked over to the small church over on the left bank, Saint-Séverin (I think). We walked inside and people were already getting seated for Christmas Eve services.

It was now time for our Christmas Eve meal at Rotisserie Du Beaujolais, which is owned by the Tour de Argent folks (fortunately, not the same prices as their more famous counterpart).

We were seated next to the window. The restaurant is informal, but cute. It has a country French motif, and the windows are adorned with lace curtains, while the tables are topped with yellow linens (thank God Tracy takes some notes). On this particular night, everyone, from the hostess to the servers, was more than jovial, which made for a relaxed meal.

After a while, Tracy seemed like she was giving me “the look,” however since I didn’t have food hanging out of my mouth and my zipper was up, I ascertained I was not the object of her Spock-like countenance.

“What’s up?” I said.

“Have you seen the woman behind you?” she asked.

Since I had not grown two eyes in the back of head during my second Campari Cocktail (remember my motto, “you’ll never be sorry with another Campari”), I answered in the negative.

“This woman looks exactly like Cruella de Vil,” she whispered (now remember, Tracy is the nice one of the two of us). Coincidentally, we had not seen another woman similar in appearance to Cruella de Ville since we visited Ribeauville in 2003. This woman, I was told, had some wild Cruella-type clothing on, too.

Tracy then added with a look of terror, “She also has a dog.” The dog was a very friendly Golden Retriever.

I never got a really good look at “Cruella” throughout the entire evening, but I can only hope she didn’t have an extra gold coat the next time she visited.

The meal was quite good. I started with escargots and handled the tongs expertly, so no snail shells flew onto unsuspecting tables. Tracy started with warm leeks with vinaigrette, diced onions and parsley.

We both had the rotisserie-roasted chicken served on a large platter at our table. The creamy, buttery mashed potatoes were delicious, especially on a cold night.

Dessert consisted of a warm, chocolate cake with framboise sauce and vanilla glacé for me, while Tracy had the Bouche de Noel in a crème anglais with citron (perhaps Grand Marnier). Both were very good.

As we savored our meal over an Irish coffee (or two), we were visited by one of the owners. Well, sort it. The Rotisserie Du Beaujolais has a resident house cat who is, to say it mildly, a little rotund. Obviously, the chicken is made to his liking. The cat (being very feline-like) said a quick “Merveillmeow” to us and then moved on, presumably to have another meal.

As the evening wound down, we encountered the only ugly American of our visit. At a table a good distance away, a gentleman (and I use the term very loosely) was attempting to entertain the rest of his table (and unfortunately the rest of the restaurant) with jokes…very bad jokes.

Now that would be bad enough, considering the decibel level of the man, however the jokes were also racial in content. The people at his table varied in response from fake laughter to “I wish the French still used the guillotine.”

Fortunately, we were done with our drinks by now, as was most of the restaurant, so we left the group in the corner to contemplate how they became acquaintances of the guy. The hostess bid us a Joyeux Noel, and it was out into the Arctic we went.

Overall, the restaurant impressed me. I had heard mixed reviews, but I have no regrets choosing Rotisserie Du Beaujolais as our Christmas Eve choice. Everything from the food to the décor to the service was more than pleasing, and they make a hell of an Irish Coffee.

We got back to the metro stop at Varenne just before midnight, and after we walked up the stairs and took a few steps; we gazed to the left where the Eiffel Tower (or what we could see of it through the fog) was doing its hourly dance of lights. Tracy and I looked at each other and, I believe in a moment of husbandly passion, I kissed her.

It was Christmas morning, and we were two of the luckiest people on earth.

COMING UP – DAY EIGHT: JOYEUX NOEL, THIS OLD HOUSE (JACQUEMART-ANDRE), WHERE AM I AND DINNER UNDER THE DOME

Maitaitom,

Very nice. Thank you for taking the time to write about your trip. I took Paris out of my upcoming trip with my husband but now maybe I should reconsider.


Much Aloha

...sniffle, sniffle, reaching for a tissue...that is sweet ..

you certainly are one of the luckiest couples... I think.

I love that umbrella shop on Blvd Ste Germain and did the poster store still have the French Army Knife poster in the window..I really wanted that for my kitchen.

Sorry you didn't make it to Chez Fernand, it's our favorite too!

Love the way you tell a story!

wow. I think I must plan a Christmas vacation in Paris now. I've been there in late Summer; and plan on a Spring 2008; but your description of the Christmas Eve sounds marvellous.

Tom, is there any possible way you can get this done today? I'm leaving for two weeks without reliable internet access.... that's a looooong time to wait for a good story!

"Sorry you didn't make it to Chez Fernand, it's our favorite too!"

We just didn't make there on Christmas Eve. Wait until the day after Christmas......

Paris is so romantic....and your report is wonderful as always. I look forward to the next installment.

Tom, I knew you were a romantic! Very sweet . . .

Tom, as usual your report has me enthralled. And I agree, you two are a lucky couple..may love follow you all the days of your lives!

And lots more trips too so we will have more fun trip reports to read! Merci.

I spent my all-time favorite Christmas in Paris. Reading your report transports me back to that holiday. We had very similar trips, except yours involves a little more alcohol.

Thanks, maitaitom.

Maitaitom - Thank you for this wonderful report. May I ask you the name of the RA medicine you have been taking these last 12 years?

CharlieG

"Maitaitom - Thank you for this wonderful report. May I ask you the name of the RA medicine you have been taking these last 12 years?"

Absolutely, because it changed my life. It is a once-a-week injectable called Enbrel. It was developed by Immunex (a Seattle company) and is now in the Amgen collection of products.

When I was 34 (1986), I was diagnosed with RA. Between 1986 and 1999, I had my knees drained of fluid so many times, I sometimes thought they were faucets. There were literally days I walked like I was an 80 year-old man, but I kept hoping.

Fortunately, my RA doctor got me on the Enbrel program early. I have had no side effects (except for one upper respitory cold...no big deal) in nine years.

I now walk without limping, can play some backyard basketball and live a perfectly normal life. Tracy gives me the shots because (1) I'm a wimp and (2) because if she's angry at me, she can let out her aggression by shooting me. The shots come in one of those pop-up type injectables.

I tell people with RA who have not tried this drug to ask their doctor about it, because I tried so many tings before this, it was hard not to give up when they all failed.

The downside is Enbrel costs a fortune, but fortunately my insurance covers it. The other downside was that I never bought Immunex stock. If I had, I would have been traveling on their money for the rest of my life. Oh well, who needs money when you have good (well, better) knees.

Sorry for straying so long about medicine, but Enbrel has changed my life, and knowing the pain RA sufferers go through first hand, I would be remiss not to answer this question.

DAY EIGHT: JOYEUX NOEL, THIS OLD HOUSE (JACQUEMART-ANDRE), WHERE AM I AND DINNER UNDER THE DOME

It was Christmas morning in Paris, but like every other morning Tracy and I put on our walking shoes and hit the pavement early.

We had thought about how much we had liked Le Florimond, so we walked over to the restaurant, only to see the sign that the restaurant would be closed for the rest of the holidays. I also was hoping to figure out what the name of that wine we drank the other night.

Next, we found a little place to grab some coffee and croissants (hardly anything open) and then walked through the area near the Eiffel Tower.

The only place we saw open was a Chinese restaurant, and as we passed by it about 10:30 a.m. a huge contingent of Chinese tourists were being whisked off a Tour Bus and into the restaurant. The entire scene made me think about the family in Christmas Story who ended up having their Christmas meal at the local Chinese place. I wonder if the restaurant was serving Chinese Canard as their Chinese turkey.

We walked up Avenue Rapp and saw a couple of our old favorite haunts, the Puryicard candy store and restaurant Clos des Gourmets (both closed, of course), a restaurant we had eaten at shortly after it opened in the late 1990s. We kept walking.

Tracy had picked up a brochure at our hotel shortly after we arrived in Paris that had some information about a museum we had never heard of before, but it said it was open on Christmas Day, so we figured, “Let’s go.”

We got ourselves back over to bd. Haussmann (our Pomze street) and headed for the Musee Jacquemart-André. This was our little “undiscovered gem” moment of the trip (many of you well-seasoned travelers already know about it, but it had never been on our radar before).

This is a mansion that was built in the 1870s and belonged to Edouard André and Nellie Jacquemart, hence the name. These two would have been able to do some great trip reports, because they traveled often to Italy and collected art that they would bring back and exhibit at the mansion.

Even after his death, Nellie made other trips to Italy and also to the Far East. In 1912, after her death, the art and the house were left to the city of Paris.

The free audio guide here was terrific, and Tracy especially liked the commentary because it talked a lot about the house, its history, how it was utilized, the couple themselves and the elegant parties they threw here. You could also learn about specific pieces of art, but to us, the history of the people and the home was the most interesting facet of the tour.

From Tracy, “I found the Italian art collection to be amazing. I loved how the doors in the entry parlor drop into the floor and the walls on either side of the parlor could fold back to accommodate more than 1,000 people. During the parties, musicians played upstairs in the balcony area, while people danced below.

“The amazing staircase was suspended in air. The architect had lost out on the design for the opera house, which has a similar-type stairway, but the museum staircase was deemed better and more amazing.

“The house is still used for private functions. Maybe we could renew our wedding vows here.” Boy, is she sneaky!

There was also an exhibit going on of golden treasures. There were television monitors that explained the exhibit in English with French subtitles, but we were getting hungry.

During the tour, our noses had been tempted by the smell of food wafting through the building, so after we dropped off the headphones and had lunch in the restaurant at Jacquemart-André. It was charming…and good.

Tracy had the Le Prince salad, which consisted of a mixed salad with curried chicken and carrots, raisins and grapefruit. I don’t remember what I had for lunch, because we split ½ bottle of Pommery Champagne, and I, as usual, took more than my fair share.

We then ducked into their nice, little gift shop, and Tracy bought a bunch of butterflies (not live ones). Tracy again: “Butterflies were quite the decoration in Paris this year. We saw them in white, pink, red, gold, black and pale blue. They were displayed in front windows and on the tree in our hotel lobby.

“The only place we saw them for sale was at the museum gift store, and the lovely Tracy (man, how she sneaks these comments in) came home with pink, red and gold butterflies – 1.30 euro apiece.”

The rest of the afternoon we just wandered somewhat aimlessly (but in a good way), and there was not a lot going on. Then up ahead, we saw a bunch of people, and the entire area was bustling with people. We had made it back to the Jewish Quarter in the Marais, and it was hopping full of people.

I was thinking of grabbing something else to eat, but I had a couple of more wardrobe malfunctions earlier in the day, so I didn’t want the local populous to think I was some sort of meshuggener by flailing away in my misguided attempt to get out my wallet.

As soon as left the area, it was quiet again until we reached the next multitude of people. Out in front of the Hotel de Ville, it looked like a Dorothy Hamill (one of my first true loves after my unrequited love affair with Peggy Fleming years before) reunion.

Tracy asked (jokingly) if I wanted to get out on the ice and try it. Since I had not ice-skated since the Nixon administration, I deferred.

On this afternoon, we had also thought about going to the Pompidou, but the line had been rather long, and for me to go back to the Pompidou, it would have to have been a much shorter line. We also stopped in some other “art” exhibit near the Marais, which looked like half art exhibit, half bad flea market, but it was nice to go inside, because it was chilly.

Our Christmas dinner on Christmas night was at Bofinger. It was when we got off the metro at Bastille, that Tom’s Tuscan Tours (please see 2005 trip report for details) got a little derailed. I had forgotten to bring the address, and at the Opera Bastille (a place I knew it was fairly near), there were about eight or nine options on which way to head.

Now a sane and raisonnable person would, of course, ask one of the people standing nearby which way Bofinger was located. Not I. In a moment of temporary insanity, I decided I could figure it out with that GPS system of a brain installed in my stubborn head.

For the next ten minutes, I did my best Keystone Kop imitation as I headed one way, then another and then another again. After ten minutes, Tracy was tired of this movie and said, “Please ask somebody.” Good idea.

Trying to be as French as possible (of course, they had probably seen me do my cartoon act for the past ten minutes), I went up to a gentleman in front of the opera. In my best really bad French I said, “Oú est Bo-fahn-jay?”

He looked at me and said, “You mean BowFinger.” Yeah, that’s the place. By the way, there were lots of restaurants open in this neighborhood. I know that because I saw them all on my ten minute joy walk.

We were now 20 minutes late for our 8:30 reservations, and we walked in the door. “Bonsoir,” I told the Maitre’di. “We are Mr. and Mrs. Late People.” He could not find our names.

I then told him our reservations were for 8:30. He said, with a little bit of an attitude (which I like), “Oh, you should have made them for 9.” He then gave us a quick “I’m kidding” look and directed us to our table located under the belle epoch ceiling. It was quite cool and, even better, there is no smoking in this section (although smoking in restaurants did not bother us at all on this trip).

A large number of Americans presumably dine here, but on Christmas night it was mostly occupied by French families, lovers and a couple who we surmised were either on their first date or heading for divorce because they talked about as much as a couple at a Marcel Marceau convention (now that’s a reference I didn’t see coming).

I liked the traditional French waiters, the room and the experience. Dinner was fine, but, once again, it wasn’t one to write home about.

It was more escargots for me, while Tracy had an arugula, egg and bacon salad. My beef in peppercorn sauce wasn’t bad, and Tracy had a Napoleon of seared scallops with Parmesan crisps on a bed of cornichons.

Dessert was good. We had a chocolate mousse cake with caramel on a cookie crust.

For drinks, we had started with some champagne, then a bottle of 2003 Chateauneuf de Pape L’Orateuers (or at least that’s we wrote down) with dinner, and for some strange reason, I had another Irish Coffee after dessert. Interestingly, or maybe not, at home if I have caffeine after 2 p.m., I’m a mess trying to sleep. In Paris, I can drink one at 11 p.m. and sleep like a baby.

Our waiter told us that Bofinger can serve 1,000 or so people on a very busy day, and on this Christmas they were above 700 for the day. The kitchen stays open until 1 a.m.

When we looked at the Eiffel Tower after exiting the metro stairs, we could only see a little of its base through the thick fog. I remembered I had not taken a picture of it at night with its upside down Christmas tree glowing, and I only had one more night in Paris.

As we drifted off to sleep, I prayed to the weather gods to let the fog lift enough the next evening to get my picture of the Eiffel Tower at night.

COMING UP – DAY NINE: THE LITTLEST TOWN OF BETHLEHEM, LUNCH HEAVEN, A DAY AT THE OPERA, A MAI TAI IN PARIS, HERB APPEAL AND GET ME TO THE EIFFEL ON TIME

You have me rethinking our November trip..I might have to hold out until Christmas!

Tom... I didn't think you could outdo your Italy report, but this had me snorting! Very fun and informative.

I too have had RA for many years, can't imagine traveling in the midst of a flare-up. Then again, like you, can't imagine not getting on that plane.

Many thanks for taking us along for this fun ride.

Tom-
The last time my husband and I went to Paris, we went to Bowfinger. We exited the metro in dumping rain and then proceded to wander in circles (without an umbrella) until we finally found the restaurant. I could relate to your confusion.
Kristina
(another LA fodorite)

Maitaitom - You have said you have been to Paris 8 times. Which months are your favorites or do you always travel there in the Winter?

"Maitaitom - You have said you have been to Paris 8 times. Which months are your favorites or do you always travel there in the Winter?"

I've been in Spring (May/June a few times), Fall (Sept/Oct a couple of times) and Winter (December twice and early March once). Each has some advantages.

I liked May/June because it stays light for what seems like forever. It just seems like you're getting so much for your day.

I liked Sept/Oct for the weather. It wasn't as warm as it can get, especially in June the couple of times we were there. Of course, I love Paris when it sizzles, too.

And December I like for the relative lack of tourists (aka lines to get into places). We've been twice in December. In 2001, it was cold, and we had some rain and hardly and sunshine. We went the week after Christmas.

On this trip, we had four to five days of sunshine, and a few cludy/foggy days, but no rain. I enjoyed the week before Christmas because the city had a certain air about it. I enjoyed the Christmas decorations and a crisp, sunny, clear December day is Paris is something to behold.

The downside to December is you could get some nasty weather, but there is so much to do inside and you can get around on the metro. Also, yur hours of daylight are minimal, and the sun really never seems to get to high in that Parisian sky.

You can't predict the weather, so you might get rain in June and sunny in December. You live at the mercy of the vacaton gods

But, you know what, you're in Paris so how bad could anything be? They didn't write the song I Love Paris for nothing, I guess.

I'm just bringing this up to the top so it will remind Maitaitom to finish!

good thinking.....

tapping......

I found it again! Now I must bookmark it and look forward to the next installment.

Thanks for the great trip report maitaitom.

I apologize for our oversight on your request. I have deleted the long address from the other thread. I'm not sure whether you'd like to copy and paste the contents of this thread back over there to have it back to one thread.

Again I apologize for the delay. Thanks again for a truly entertaining report.

OH DARN ..I was hoping there was a new episode ready!

Love reading your trip reports and taking copious notes.....

Maitaitom: Thank you for your informative and candid response. I am going to look into this medicine.

Charlieg

Tom, speaking of Cooperstown, I'd like to formally nominate you for the Fodor's Hall of Fame, Trip Report Wing. Another incredible installment in the travels of Tracy and Tom. You've got a gift, an understanding wife, a couple of super meds to help you clear life's hurdles, and a forgiving liver! And now the refrain: Who could ask for anything more?!?!?!!

Turnstile Traffic: No you don't have to put this all on one thread. I think people who want to read this report have it figured out.

I am out on business for a couple of days (yeah, I actually work) and will finish in a few days. Thanks for all the nice responses.

I have enjoyed reading about your trip. One question: Are you a journalist? If not, you should be.

Thank you for a wonderful and entertaining trip report. I too have suffered from severe RA exacerbations, coupled with Lupus. The pain is beyond words. Please tell me, is the Voltaren Emulgel available OTC? We are going to Paris in April and would love to bring some home! (Along with the assortment of mustards, chocolates , fois gras and truffles!)

Tom, right after you mentioned the name of your French miracle cream , I ordered some from NEW ZEALAND! It came a few days ago and I've been using it 3 times a day. My knee has felt much better, in fact it's hardly hurt at all! My thing to buy in France for the last few years has been Q-tips..with wooden sticks! Those plastic things we are forced to use here are more dangerous. They bend when they shouldn't!!! The other day I stopped in Big Lots and found some...I now have 1000's of wooden sticks and they only cost a few dollars!!

Ralstonlan....careful with the foie gras! I had over $100.00 worth confiscated at JFK! Seems they've added poultry to the forbidden list...bird flu.. I tried to tell them it was canned and cooked but they took it anyway! Sometimes it doesn't pay to be honest on those forms...but being dishonest can result in a huge fine if caught!! And me...I would be caught!

Jody-

Wow! Thanks for the heads up.(and my spelling typo!) I always bring back 2 or three cans. I guess I'll have to decide if it is worth the risk this time.

Jody, would you mind sharing the website for the "Miracle Cream"? New Zealand?! How long did it take to ship, and how much was the total? Thanks!

Hagan, I don't want to be accused of advertising , but if you'll email me I'll send you the site. I use them for other products and I ususally get my stuff within 5 to 7 days...better time than I get from the VA mailorder !! It was around 22 dollars for 1 tube , which is all I bought , just to try it. The shipping is free.

stillmissingparis at yahoo.com

love the report. thanks

yipper

DAY NINE: THE LITTLEST TOWN OF BETHLEHEM, LUNCH HEAVEN, A DAY AT THE OPERA, A MAI TAI IN PARIS, HERB APPEAL AND GET ME TO THE EIFFEL ON TIME

This day started out like all the rest, with a quick stop for coffee and croissants. Tracy had never been much of a coffee drinker, but after a few days of being Parisian, she was getting into the habit. It was probably a good thing we were leaving the next day, or we might have started to take up smoking, too.

We headed on the metro over to the Musée National d’ Historie Nuturelle, or as Tracy more succinctly called it, The Dinosaur Museum. Our chances of visiting on this day were as extinct as those old bones sitting in the window because the museum was closed. How cold-blooded of them (although some research now says dinosaurs were warm-blooded).

Not deterred, we hopped back on the metro and soon were walking toward our next destination, Saint-Sulpice. Although the day after Christmas, the little Christmas market outside the church was going full tilt. Unfortunately, I still had some extra euros.

We almost made it through the entire maze of booths unscathed until Tracy found the Bling Booth, and soon afterward she had a nice necklace.

Since I am the only living person who has not read The Da Vinci Code, I was unaware of the importance this 17th century church played in the novel. Fortunately no nuns were harmed in the making of this trip report.

Inside Saint-Sulpice was a cool, working Little Town of Bethlehem. It was really quite fascinating to me, especially the miniature guy putting miniature bread in the miniature oven.

As we seemed to do a lot of on this trip, we strolled through the 6th, back down to Saint-Germain and happened down an alleyway, where we saw Le Procope, another restaurant in Paris that claims to be the oldest. We almost decided to have lunch here, but I was hoping that my number one choice, Chez Fernand on rue Christine, was open, so we walked on over. It was open, and it was lucky for us, because we had our best meal of the trip here.

On the menu for Tracy was gratin d'aubergines confites et mozzarella, while I had the green beans (haricots verts frais à l'huile de noisette). Of course, since it was after dawn, we started with champagne and a Campari.

Tracy ordered roasted scallops on a bed of creamy risotto with petite legumes, while I downed the incredibly delicious beef bourguignon with steamed potatoes. It was sensational!

Since we were on a roll, Tracy then had a baked pear ladled in hot chocolate sauce while I devoured a molten chocolate cake with framboise and citron. It was a perfect complement for my gewurztaminer dessert wine followed by an espresso. The total tab came to 102 euros (worth every euro of it, too).

There is nothing fancy about the restaurant, but every dish was perfect. For good measure, they also have a no smoking area, and since Tracy and I hadn’t taken up the habit yet, we sat in the cancer-free section.

It was pretty cold outside (okay, it was freezing) after leaving Chez Fernand (although that dessert wine was warming me up), so it was back on the metro for a day at the opera. Well, not a real opera, but we wanted to check out the Opera House before we left.

For seven euros each, we walked around the opera house (they do have English tours available a couple of times during the day). The staircase was grand, which is, I suppose, why it is called the grand staircase.

Some people had told us that the opera house was nothing special, but we actually enjoyed our hour or so at the opera. I believe our visit was made even better by the fact that I didn’t actually have to attend an opera to go there. Figaro that!

For an encore after the opera, Tracy and I walked down to Harry’s Bar. It wasn’t quite what I expected, what with all the U.S. college pennants hanging on the walls. Of course, I looked for a pennant from my alma mater, San Diego State (which we jokingly refer to as "The Harvard of the West"), and could not find an SDSU pennant anywhere. Obviously, Harry’s does not want to be associated with a school with such a pathetic football team.

Harry’s was quiet, except for a family from England (a mother, father and two teenage sons) sitting at the bar. They were, how should I put, pretty wasted, but they were funny, what we could understand of them.

Talking to them about England, we said we might be visiting London in the near future. “It’s a dump,” they replied.

It seems our Brit friends had spent quite a few hours at Harry’s that day and regaled us with stories about some of the favorite drinks they had ordered. Although they were humorous, I had a sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind that the two sons might find themselves in rehab one day.

Tracy and I each had a martini, but I said I had to try a Mai tai in Paris. Not surprisingly, our newfound friends from England had already tried one. I must admit; it wasn’t a bad Mai tai.

At that point I had to use the bathroom and was pointed toward Harry’s “Death Stairs.” As a heads (pun intended) up, if you plan on visiting Harry’s and have a few too many, be careful in navigating the stairs. I think I saw some bones of some past inebriated patrons down there, but Tracy said it was the rum from the Mai tai talking.

We bid our buddies “Cheerio” and walked over to La Madeleine and ducked inside. But this wasn’t the reason we were back in this neck of town. It was time for some last minute shopping at Fauchon, and our favorite little place, Hediard.

Tracy has one special purchase she makes every time we are in Paris. She just loves the Herbs de Provence from Hediard. After picking up a bushel load, it was back to the hotel to start packing for tomorrow’s departure; still knowing I didn’t have that up close up and personal Eiffel Tower night picture. I was hoping that darned fog would not be as bad on this night as it had been for the previous few evenings.

We got to the Eiffel Tower a little before eight, and the whole tower was in view. I took my night Eiffel photos and felt fulfilled, well except for dinner. We took one last stroll down the Rue Cler (sorry Rick Steves haters) with its Bienvenue Rue Cler Christmas decorations above our heads and then headed off to dinner.

Tracy and I ate at Auberge Bressane, where we had dined five years before. The meal was ok this time around, but we did have the best soup (pumpkin) of the trip. I finished off dinner with a good crepe suzette, got on the metro, scaled the stairs and took one more look to the left at the Eiffel Tower (which I happen to love all you Tower naysayers...what's with that?) and bid farewell to another lovely trip to Paris.

Outside of a minor security scare the next day at CDG that had everyone standing in place for about 20 minutes while authorities looked for some miscreant who had breeched security, the flight back came off without a hitch.

Compared to how I felt on the flight over, I might as well have been sitting in first class on this journey back to L.A.. I really liked the entire Air Tahiti Nui experience. The legroom seemed better, and the food for we coach peons was definitely a step above any other airline I have flown in recent years.

We picked up the cats and paid their hotel bill (for this money I hoped they had plasma televisions to watch). On the way home we lied to them, saying we would never do this again, although we were already preparing for a possible month long trip to the rest of France in 2008.

COMING UP: EPILOGUE, THINGS I FORGOT UNTIL NOW AND RANDOM PARIS THOUGHTS

You are too good, Tom. This report is work of art! We will be in Paris (as well as a few other places in France) this summer and you have given us lots of great ideas...thanks for that!

Please tell us we will see photos, include you and wife. Please!!!!

What a great report! I'm looking forward to seeing the photos (hint, hint)

I'm glad the trip home was a bit easier for you than the trip over.

TR

Marvelous report! Thank you!

Your report, along with so many other Fodorites, has inspired me to plan my first trip to Paris with the hubby in Sept 2007. I only hope my holiday is as wonderful as yours!

Hope you post your pictures!!

Camelbak, you won't be disappointed!!! And we'll try not to steer you wrong either...

I'd just about given up hope, but you came thru!! Chez Fernand is our favorite too and we've never been disappointed. I dream about their braised endive and roquefort tart tatin!

sorry to have to tell you but I haven't read da Vinci Code either..and I never saw Seinfeld!!

Thanks Tom; great to catch up with your wanderings again

MaiTai -- just a wonderful, fascinating, funny, great report. You should write guidebooks for the places you travel to!

It sounds like you ate well, drank well, walked well (finally!), and totally enjoyed being with your wife in Paris! Bling-bling just adds to the experience! Go Tracy!

The Eiffel Tower and Rue Cler are two of my favorite places in Paris despite what others feel! When I first set my eyes on the Tour, I KNOW I'm in my favorite place on earth!

Thanks again for taking the time and energy to write this great report.

Waiting for your wrap-up!

Hope the leg continues to be that of a 25 year old!

joy/luvparee

Tom, just want you to know reading your terrific trip report made me so homesick for paris that I checked on airfare from DFW and was so pleasantly surprised that in about 1 week I have cleared my job schedule, lined up a [very] small studio in the 6th, and booked my flight!!

I leave feb 23rd for my first solo overseas foray!! Thanks,lynda

Tom, you outdid yourself again. You're an inspiration to all of us. I'm checking airfares on a daily basis, need my Paris fix.

Regards to you and Tracy.

What fun! Waiting for the epilogue but hate to see it all end!

Please tell us how this great story ends!

me too

TTT

???????????????

EPILOGUE, THINGS I FORGOT UNTIL NOW AND RANDOM PARIS THOUGHTS

As I reflect on our trip, I feel even more fortunate that Tracy and I were able to enjoy those eight days in Paris thanks to the generosity of a couple who we had never met before. I will never forget “the magic cream” or my hotel surgery. All my friends tell me how lucky I was to have all the planets align for those events to happen, and I cannot disagree.

Tracy and I have commented that this was probably our favorite trip together to Paris, and I think one reason was because we didn’t feel obligated to visit the big-ticket items, many of which we have already seen.

We never set foot inside the Orsay or even Notre Dame, for that matter, and would have only had a short visit to the Louvre except for wandering aimlessly through the Egyptian artifacts (I still have nightmares about those damned sarcophagi).

Instead, we traversed neighborhoods and streets we had never before traveled and experienced Paris on a different level than we had on previous visits. As I believe I stated in the report (it’s been so long I can’t remember), the walking tour with Michael Osman might be our best day in Paris ever! I look forward to his Louvre tour on a future visit.

Our favorite restaurants were Chez Fernand on rue Christine, Le Florimond on av La Motte Piquet and a La Petite Chaise on rue de Grenelle. Pomze and La Rotissere Du Beaujolais (mashed potatoes slathered with butter...gooood) get honorable mentions.

Speaking of bad dreams, I still see that woman at Le Tastevin scolding me for playing with my overturned fork, and I hope the blind guy I accosted near the metro has found it in his heart to forgive me.

Speaking of Le Florimond, Tracy wanted me to correct myself and say that the face-a-face was actually a steak served with a side of beef stew, and that the cocktail I described was served in a champagne flute, so it isn’t “your ordinary screwdriver.” She also said that her chocolate glace was “an intense dark chocolate (watch out Zagat, here comes Tracy).”

I also forgot to mention one of our favorite Hediard items that we brought back home. We bought more than a few jars of their red wine mustard, and when they are gone I’m afraid Tracy is going to hop on the next plane to pick up more. If she does, I want more of their peach-raspberry jam.

The lack of tourists in Paris the week before Christmas is also a definite plus. There were times it seemed like Tracy and I had had the city all to ourselves (actually, we almost did on Christmas Day). Weather can be iffy that time of year, but being blessed with four days of sunshine just made those neighborhood walks that much better.

We also loved the Musee Jacquemart-André. For anyone who has not visited it, we highly recommend you give this museum a go. I don’t know why it had never been on my radar, but I’m sure glad we went. It made for a nice Christmas Day present for Tracy and me.

We are now planning our next trip, and I am afraid StCirq might be very unhappy to hear where we are planning to start our next journey.

Our friends, Kim and Mary, will join Tracy and me again, and we are planning a month-long (if we can get the time) trip to France, starting with the Dordogne, where we will rent a car (we’ve put Mary in charge of correctly putting in the gasoline on this trip).

Tentatively, Languedoc, Provence, the Alps, Burgundy, the Loire and maybe even Normandy will have its serene locales challenged by this fearsome foursome.

Can four people spend four weeks together and not kill each other? Stay tuned.

As for our recent Christmas Paris trip, although my mantra was put to the ultimate test, I can still confidently say, “Enjoy The Journey! Attitude Is Everything (that, and a good doctor)!”

Thanks so much, Maitaitom, for wrapping up this marvelously entertaining trip report! I was afraid your knee or even more distressing - work related) problems had laid you low.

When will your next French trip be? We will be there in October.

Thanks for finishing. This was a pleasure to read. When can we see the photos?

Thank you maitaitom for another delightful and fun trip report. I too was wondering if you were having problems so it was good to see that posted again.

I understand your comment about not having to visit all the "seen before sights". That is the way I have felt in Florence the last couple of times I was there. I was able to wander away from the crowds and so enjoyed Florence as the residents do.

Take care, hope you are feeling well and have fun planning your next trip with your friends. And that is a smart move making Mary in charge of the gasoline for the car, lol!

That was me with the long url. I apologized several times.

It is alright Mimi, we have all done that..please don't worry..it all turned out fine. Hope you and your husband our doing well and that a trip to France will be in your plans this year.

No problem cigalechanta. Just like the trip, all's well that ends well.

nukesafe, the marathon France trip will be some time in 2008.

leely - pictures soon on the blog.

Thanks.

Oh i am so happy i stumbled upon your report. what a treat!!!
makes me want to be in paris again soon!!

Merci for sharing!!
dina

I have set a fare watch on tickets to Paris....

Thanks, Maitai! Great wrap-up to a great report! You write so well -- it's like we're all with you!

I know your 2008 trip will be as great as your others. My second love (after Paris) is Provence. Love, love, love the Luberon/Vaucluse area! I know your group will also -- lots of wine!

Thanks again for the great entertainment!

joy/luvparee

Wonderful rap up to your report....you are a true inspiration to us here on the board.

I'm off to the Dordogne in May....and don't worry...I won't drink all the vino.

Hi all,

I'm bringing this up because we bought some Voltaren Emulgel in Fuessen this past May.

Great stuff. I think that it is better than the blue goop that my Lady Wife uses.
(She doesn't.)

Fantastic report - we will be doing a group Xmas in Paris in 2008. After reading this, I can't wait.

Thank you very much.

I'm so glad I found this. Great report, thanks!

Still waiting on the rest of your Central European trip report. Love it!

I a new Born Again maitaitom follower, and think we should pool our resources to send him and his Lady Wife on many trips, so he can entertain us with his zany reports.

Now, it's off to the local chemist for some of those things you need for stress incontinence, from laughing loud and long.

Long may your attitude shine.

This just popped up and I'm so glad as it's new for moi. My first maitaitom report was from Italy so it's great to discover another.

How are the toms and company doing these days and where to next???

TDudette...

Maitai just finished up a trip report on the US board about his trip to Washington DC this past spring. As usual it's a fantastically funny read. You may want to check it out!

He's been posting about an upcoming Christmas trip to Italy I think. Click on his screen name and you should be able to find all his trip reports.

Thanks LCI and ky! DH and I actually met Tom and company in DC-what a fun GTG that was as you can imagine. There is a post for that showing photos.

I never got around to reading his others but meant to so was glad to see this one. ky, my DH is from KY-great state.

Oh, I'm so glad this thread was resurrected as I missed it the first time around. Wonderful report -- I'm only sorry that I don't have an upcoming trip to Paris on my radar. Perhaps it's time to start planning...

This trip report has really brightened up an otherwise dull day!
I'm also so glad it was resurrected. I'm going to Paris in 5 weeks, so this was such fun to read. Maitatom has made me feel like a real "wimp" for considering canceling trip because I have a little pain in my hip from bursitis. I'm now sure it will clear up before the trip. I had a cortisone shot a few weeks ago, which has helped. If walking is still painful a few days before I go, I just talk the doctor into giving me another!

Anyway, Maitatom, your report was a real gem, and I'll be reading all of yours from now on.

Tom, I read this when you first posted, but enjoyed it just as much again today When we went to London in 2001, I first came across the same magic creme. But when we went to Paris in 2007, I bought some there after reading your report. Figured it would be good to have on hand, and it has been. Ironically, when we went to Paris this summer, I managed to fall down a bunch of stairs at Versaille and messed up my knee pretty bad. Like you, I could not bend it at all, and the pain...omg the pain. I should have seen a doctor, but didn't. I did see the pharmacist though who gave me the voltarene flexor patches. OMG, those helped soooo much!!! There is no way I could have hobbled around without those. Your post really hit home though...all the trials of trying to get around when you can't bend your leg at all, like in and out of taxi's,etc. Anyway, nice to know I am not the only one who has had to do the pirate walk in Paris

Laughed out loud reading this report, not at poor Tom's plight of course, but his writing style is very entertaining. I ended ended up sleep deprived as, like a good book, I couldn't put it down and go to bed.

Three years ago I posted a YouTube video of this trip. It was denied due to a copyright on one of the songs. I never even thought about the video again until today. I googled my name this morning to see something about my personal website, and the YouTube video came up that said there was no longer a copyright problem. Very strange. Anyway, if anyone is going to Paris this Christmas, this should get you in the mood. Someday I'll figure out the nuances of the Internet.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rEIK-9AqxsY

mait, a joyful report. I suffer both Rhumatoid and osteoarthritis, the Volteren gel and the Intralgis,
a stronger ibuprofene I buy in Paris helps me.
Right now my right shoulder feels like a nagging toothache.
Happy travels for both of us.

mimi

Thanks for the video....I'll be in Paris the first 2 weeks of December. I'm looking forward to seeing the lights, decor and markets in the video.

That was exhilarating! I'm glad it came back from youtube limbo. Just great.

Fun to read! Now I have to go to Paris again!
I couldn't access the video on my IPad.

Minutes ago I watched your video. Well Done!
Was that Michael with your wife?

Cigale, Yes that was Michael (the tour guide, not the guardian angel) with Tracy at the Absinthe store.

What a great video! Having never been in Paris at Christmas, it was fun to see familiar sites all done up in their finery. Thanks!

Waaahhh...now I want to go back to Paris NOW.

Great pic of you and Tracey in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Both your trip report and the video are great! I'm surprised we didn't limp into each other in Paris. I was there just about the same time and injured my knee (permanently), but I managed to hobble around, enjoying the Christmas sights. Always enjoy your trip reports. If you don't write professionally, you should!

MaiTai -very professional! You never cease to amaze! Sell that to the Paris Tourism Office! ( or maybe get a free trip?)

Great video, maitaitom!

Hr

Thanks for the great reports, just spent 2 hours reading your reports on Paris and Rome.
Brought back many memories and ideas for next years trip to both cities.

Wonderful music and I loved the dissolves (the Chappelle one was so cool). Rhody and I went to American Dream resto on our last trip.

Thanks, Tom!

So now we have a report revival. A most painful leg at the beginning of your trip...which prompted some laughs...leg in your lady's lap and the blind guy incident and then it seemed to go away. What a nice youtube added. Certainly covering much of Paris. We liked the Monet water color panels in l'Orangerie because we were to later visit the garden in Giverny in our Seine river trip.

PS-Did you use Photodex Proshow by any chance?

Hi TD - I used Final Cut Pro on my MAC for this one.

Loved your trip report! We are going to Munich and Paris December 15-26. You gave us so many good ideas & I'm sure a few things we will be saying while there....it's after dawn, time for some champagne!

Thanks again.

Thanks, Tom.

Where to next?

Next trip is to Paris, Sarlat and environs, the Loire, Mont Saint Michel, Bayeux/D-Day Beaches and back to Paris...nothing but net! All my doctors are on speed dial and local officials have been notified.

I have had a marvelous time getting to know you, Tom and Tracy, through this wonderful trip report. Thank you for taking the time to write it! We are meeting our college aged daughter in Europe this year at the end of her fall study abroad semester in Spain-- to travel for a few weeks, ending with a week in Paris.

I was a little worried about what kind of a Christmas we might have there, and this has been very reassuring. Though we have been to Paris before, (but never in winter); our kids have not (also taking her twin brother with us). I think they would enjoy a trip like you describe more than slavishly trying to see every monument/museum. Of course, without the Hotel Surgery part.

Question: It sounds like you are approaching each day's itinerary very casually--do you know Paris that well, or did you map out a plan ahead of time, for each day and what order you would travel around the city? (I realize you must have had a plan for the Louvre day with Michael, and I liked the fact that favorable weather allowed you to do something more spontaneous.)

You guys sound like you would be fun to travel with. I originally started reading this because I wanted to know more about the lost/stolen camera incident (you posted about it elsewhere), but what a treasure trove I found here.
I've picked up a lot from others' comments, as well.

We have been to Paris on many occasions, so we decided not to have our usual hectic, go-see-as-many-sights-as-possible itinerary that we usually do. When we visit Paris, we have an outline of a plan we want to do each day, and depending on how sore our feet become, we walk a lot and use the great Paris metro (I love the Paris metro...easy to navigate and great for sore-footed tourists).

We've been to Paris twice during the Christmas season. The first time it was rainy and overcast the entire time. On this trip, we had sunshine the first half, and clouds the second half. The one consistent factor was that we loved both Christmas vsits. We will be back there this Fall as part of our trip to the Dordogne, Loire and Normandy. Have a great time, and watch out for that "fake blind guy" at the metro!

Thank you MTT. Great report, and lots of great ideas.

This was fun to re-visit MT! Thanks for the chuckles (at your expense).