How to get lost in rural France, or a Paris, Burgundy, Provence, and the Perigord Trip Report.
Oct 24th, 2006, 08:42 AM
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How to get lost in rural France, or a Paris, Burgundy, Provence, and the Perigord Trip Report.
**I apologize in advance for the eventual length of this trip report - I'm a writer and having trouble not typing a lot. I'll split the report up by day to make it a bit easier to read. Hope you enjoy it**
Day 1
Day 1 was a long day – we flew from Vancouver to Montreal, then Montreal to Paris – a travel time (according to the clock, taking time zone differences into account) of more than 24 hours. We arrived in Paris at about 8:30am and spent far too long trying to get the hell out of CDG.
Our first mistake was in assuming that we could find our way to the metro without a map of any sort - an assumption we were to make, and regret, several times during the trip. We’d been there before, but had evidently ended up at the terminal that housed the metro link on that first trip. We quickly realized that CDG is a great airport to navigate, if you a) already were where you wanted to be, b) already knew exactly where you were going, or c) got really lucky on the first try. The signage only really started indicating where the metro station was once we’d gotten close enough to more or less see it. Not entirely useful. Some of the confusion may have been the result of extreme exhaustion.
On one of our many tromps down a random hallway, we saw a machine that dispensed metro tickets. Feeling confident, we stuck our Visa in and hoped for the best. Much to our surprise, after hearing the warnings about non-chipped credit cards, 10 metro tickets popped out. At the metro station, however, they didn’t work. After careful examination, we realized that we’d bought tickets that were good for travel within the central zone of Paris, not all the way from the airport. We joined a long line of tourists at another machine that promised metro passes that would work from the airport, only to discover (like the rest of the tourists) that it only accepted “chipped” credit cards. Not to be discouraged, we joined another, even longer line of tourists, waiting to pay cash for tickets.
Eventually we made it onto the train and began our journey into the city. Paris is Paris. There’s no other way to describe it. We walked the relatively short distance from St. Michel up to Hotel St. Jacques on Rue D’École. It felt like we were home – some of the shops had changed, but everything felt the same – I think some of the same panhandlers were still there from our last trip, two years prior.
Hotel St. Jacques (35 rue Ecoles, 01 44 07 45 45) is our favorite hotel in Paris – it’s close to the Pantheon, the metro, Notre Dame, St. Germaine, the Seine – everything you might want to see as a tourist really. The rooms are nicely decorated, relatively large (by European standards), the staff is friendly, and its right next door to our favourite wine bar (La Petite Périgourdine (39 r Ecoles)).
After checking in, we decided to go for a walk. Our first mission was to find Les Deux Magots (6 pl St Germain des Prés, 01 45 48 55 25) on Rue St. Germaine a longer walk than we’d anticipated. I have to admit that after hearing so much about the famous café, I was a bit disappointed. I found the service extremely slow (even for a French café catering to tourists and during the busy lunch hour) and the waiters a bit surly. I suppose that if I’d been particularly fascinated with the history of the place I would have been a bit more generous. I have to admit that the Croque Monsieur was tasty, although I wouldn’t go back for another one.
At this point we were both exhausted and feeling a bit grimy – the rooms hadn’t been quite ready when we arrived and thus neither of us had had our post-airplane shower. By the time we got back, the rooms were tidied. We each had a quick shower, and then fell into bed for a nap. Feeling refreshed, we headed back out for an evening on the town, thirty-something-style.
First, we walked over to Isle St. Louis to do a bit of exploring/re-acquainting. We love the shops on the island, and you can’t go much wrong having a look at Notre Dame every now and again. It didn’t take much time before we found a likely brasserie (the aptly named “La Brasserie De L’Isle St. Louis” (55 quai Bourbon) – clever, eh?) and stopped for a much-needed beverage. I had my first pastis of the trip, and Jamie had a red wine (not her first). We actually really liked this little brasserie – the waiters were extremely friendly, the location fantastic if one is interested in people-watching (not only tourists, we got to see a really fat bum have a nap on the middle of the road, plus a street performer take some time out to pick up, by hand, the horse poop donated by the mounted gendarmes that walked past). We even got a little plate of tiny black olives!
Post-beverage, we walked around for a little longer, looking for a restaurant for dinner. We had made reservations over the internet for dinner at Balzar’s, but it seemed that they’d lost them and I’d forgotten to bring the printed confirmation. We settled on a place not too far from our hotel called “Louis Vins” (9 r Montagne Ste Geneviève, 01 43 29 12 12), which boasted an impressive wine list, as well as menu items such as beef cheeks, grilled veal heads, sweetbreads, etc. We decided to stop here, mainly because everywhere else we had tried was full.
Dinner was excellent. Jamie started with a very tasty mushroom and foie gras soup (it’s amazing how foie gras makes everything taste better), then coalfish for her main course. I was a bit more adventurous, going for the aforementioned beef cheeks as a starter, and then flank steak with a tasty camembert sauce. I was startled by the beef cheeks – I had visions of big gobbets of quivering cheek plopped down on a plate and served to me, but it turned out it had been cooked in some sort of sauce and then shredded. It was good, but I’m not sure I’d have it again. I think we were the only tourists in the joint, everyone else perhaps put off by the daring menu. The people around us were locals who ate the sweetbreads, steak hache, and other oddities with gusto.
After dinner we headed to our favourite little wine bar, La Petite Périgourdine. It’s a fantastic place – the waiters extremely friendly (normally they give us a little French lesson if we ask what a word in French is), off the tourist path for the most part so it’s normally pretty quiet, and they have wine. A pretty fair selection as well. We went with a sauce number called “La Boethe” for only €18, a pretty good value for money.
After finishing our bottle of wine, we headed back to the hotel and absolutely crashed. It felt good to be back in Paris. After two years, we were finally back in our favourite city in the world, with three weeks of traveling ahead of us.
Day 1
Day 1 was a long day – we flew from Vancouver to Montreal, then Montreal to Paris – a travel time (according to the clock, taking time zone differences into account) of more than 24 hours. We arrived in Paris at about 8:30am and spent far too long trying to get the hell out of CDG.
Our first mistake was in assuming that we could find our way to the metro without a map of any sort - an assumption we were to make, and regret, several times during the trip. We’d been there before, but had evidently ended up at the terminal that housed the metro link on that first trip. We quickly realized that CDG is a great airport to navigate, if you a) already were where you wanted to be, b) already knew exactly where you were going, or c) got really lucky on the first try. The signage only really started indicating where the metro station was once we’d gotten close enough to more or less see it. Not entirely useful. Some of the confusion may have been the result of extreme exhaustion.
On one of our many tromps down a random hallway, we saw a machine that dispensed metro tickets. Feeling confident, we stuck our Visa in and hoped for the best. Much to our surprise, after hearing the warnings about non-chipped credit cards, 10 metro tickets popped out. At the metro station, however, they didn’t work. After careful examination, we realized that we’d bought tickets that were good for travel within the central zone of Paris, not all the way from the airport. We joined a long line of tourists at another machine that promised metro passes that would work from the airport, only to discover (like the rest of the tourists) that it only accepted “chipped” credit cards. Not to be discouraged, we joined another, even longer line of tourists, waiting to pay cash for tickets.
Eventually we made it onto the train and began our journey into the city. Paris is Paris. There’s no other way to describe it. We walked the relatively short distance from St. Michel up to Hotel St. Jacques on Rue D’École. It felt like we were home – some of the shops had changed, but everything felt the same – I think some of the same panhandlers were still there from our last trip, two years prior.
Hotel St. Jacques (35 rue Ecoles, 01 44 07 45 45) is our favorite hotel in Paris – it’s close to the Pantheon, the metro, Notre Dame, St. Germaine, the Seine – everything you might want to see as a tourist really. The rooms are nicely decorated, relatively large (by European standards), the staff is friendly, and its right next door to our favourite wine bar (La Petite Périgourdine (39 r Ecoles)).
After checking in, we decided to go for a walk. Our first mission was to find Les Deux Magots (6 pl St Germain des Prés, 01 45 48 55 25) on Rue St. Germaine a longer walk than we’d anticipated. I have to admit that after hearing so much about the famous café, I was a bit disappointed. I found the service extremely slow (even for a French café catering to tourists and during the busy lunch hour) and the waiters a bit surly. I suppose that if I’d been particularly fascinated with the history of the place I would have been a bit more generous. I have to admit that the Croque Monsieur was tasty, although I wouldn’t go back for another one.
At this point we were both exhausted and feeling a bit grimy – the rooms hadn’t been quite ready when we arrived and thus neither of us had had our post-airplane shower. By the time we got back, the rooms were tidied. We each had a quick shower, and then fell into bed for a nap. Feeling refreshed, we headed back out for an evening on the town, thirty-something-style.
First, we walked over to Isle St. Louis to do a bit of exploring/re-acquainting. We love the shops on the island, and you can’t go much wrong having a look at Notre Dame every now and again. It didn’t take much time before we found a likely brasserie (the aptly named “La Brasserie De L’Isle St. Louis” (55 quai Bourbon) – clever, eh?) and stopped for a much-needed beverage. I had my first pastis of the trip, and Jamie had a red wine (not her first). We actually really liked this little brasserie – the waiters were extremely friendly, the location fantastic if one is interested in people-watching (not only tourists, we got to see a really fat bum have a nap on the middle of the road, plus a street performer take some time out to pick up, by hand, the horse poop donated by the mounted gendarmes that walked past). We even got a little plate of tiny black olives!
Post-beverage, we walked around for a little longer, looking for a restaurant for dinner. We had made reservations over the internet for dinner at Balzar’s, but it seemed that they’d lost them and I’d forgotten to bring the printed confirmation. We settled on a place not too far from our hotel called “Louis Vins” (9 r Montagne Ste Geneviève, 01 43 29 12 12), which boasted an impressive wine list, as well as menu items such as beef cheeks, grilled veal heads, sweetbreads, etc. We decided to stop here, mainly because everywhere else we had tried was full.
Dinner was excellent. Jamie started with a very tasty mushroom and foie gras soup (it’s amazing how foie gras makes everything taste better), then coalfish for her main course. I was a bit more adventurous, going for the aforementioned beef cheeks as a starter, and then flank steak with a tasty camembert sauce. I was startled by the beef cheeks – I had visions of big gobbets of quivering cheek plopped down on a plate and served to me, but it turned out it had been cooked in some sort of sauce and then shredded. It was good, but I’m not sure I’d have it again. I think we were the only tourists in the joint, everyone else perhaps put off by the daring menu. The people around us were locals who ate the sweetbreads, steak hache, and other oddities with gusto.
After dinner we headed to our favourite little wine bar, La Petite Périgourdine. It’s a fantastic place – the waiters extremely friendly (normally they give us a little French lesson if we ask what a word in French is), off the tourist path for the most part so it’s normally pretty quiet, and they have wine. A pretty fair selection as well. We went with a sauce number called “La Boethe” for only €18, a pretty good value for money.
After finishing our bottle of wine, we headed back to the hotel and absolutely crashed. It felt good to be back in Paris. After two years, we were finally back in our favourite city in the world, with three weeks of traveling ahead of us.
Oct 24th, 2006, 09:04 AM
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I forgot to mention - in addition to being an unrepentant writer, I'm also a photographer - check out the accompanying photos at http://tinyurl.com/w5rlb
Oct 25th, 2006, 04:26 AM
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I've just checked your Burgundy pics which are great, maybe we were on place de la Libération (with the fountains) at the same time 
When were you in Dijon?
The narrow street I noticed with the antique shops is rue Verrerie for sure.
Did you follow the owl's trail?
I'm looking forward to reading the Burgundy episode and the rest of course!
coco
When were you in Dijon?The narrow street I noticed with the antique shops is rue Verrerie for sure.
Did you follow the owl's trail?
I'm looking forward to reading the Burgundy episode and the rest of course!
coco
Oct 25th, 2006, 12:52 PM
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Hi Coco,
I am still figuring out the details. The problem, I have discovered, is that 1 week is just not enough time to see everything that looks interesting to me. We could easily spend the whole week (or more) in the south just exploring Dijon, Beaune and nearby. We are considering spending the first 2 nights in the North (Auxerre, Vezelay or Avallon), then heading south with a stop at the Fontenay Abbey. We would spend 5 nights in the South (Beaune, Dijon or split), and spend day 8 traveling north through Noyers to spend the night in Sens so we have a short drive to CDG the next day. Alternatively, we might head straight to Dijon/Beaune from Paris for the first 5 days, then 2 nights in Auxerre, Vezelay or Avallon, and night 8 in Sens.
I am having trouble because I had a schedule that looked like it made sense geographically, but it would have us exploring Auxerre on a Tuesday. Saint-Germain Abbey is closed on Tuesdays. I am trying to figure out if I should re-work the whole schedule so we can visit the 9th Century crypts. My husband thinks it would not be worth it. Have you seen them? Are the crypts a "must see" that would warrant scheduling around them?
(Sorry to hijack the thread.)
I am still figuring out the details. The problem, I have discovered, is that 1 week is just not enough time to see everything that looks interesting to me. We could easily spend the whole week (or more) in the south just exploring Dijon, Beaune and nearby. We are considering spending the first 2 nights in the North (Auxerre, Vezelay or Avallon), then heading south with a stop at the Fontenay Abbey. We would spend 5 nights in the South (Beaune, Dijon or split), and spend day 8 traveling north through Noyers to spend the night in Sens so we have a short drive to CDG the next day. Alternatively, we might head straight to Dijon/Beaune from Paris for the first 5 days, then 2 nights in Auxerre, Vezelay or Avallon, and night 8 in Sens.
I am having trouble because I had a schedule that looked like it made sense geographically, but it would have us exploring Auxerre on a Tuesday. Saint-Germain Abbey is closed on Tuesdays. I am trying to figure out if I should re-work the whole schedule so we can visit the 9th Century crypts. My husband thinks it would not be worth it. Have you seen them? Are the crypts a "must see" that would warrant scheduling around them?
(Sorry to hijack the thread.)
Oct 25th, 2006, 04:38 PM
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Thanks for all the positive comments everyone - as you can see from the length of these posts, this trip report takes a while to write - it's also our journal of the trip.
Coco - we were in Burgundy from September 19 - 22, Dijon in particular was September 21.
Coco - we were in Burgundy from September 19 - 22, Dijon in particular was September 21.
Oct 25th, 2006, 04:38 PM
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Day 2
September 17, 2006
Our second day in Paris turned out to be a day of epic walking.
We didn’t sleep all that well as it turned out – a combination of jet lag screwing up our internal clocks, giant square pillows that I just couldn’t arrange to be comfortable, heat, and street noise. Our room is on the 4th floor over Rue D’Ecole – great view but a bit less than quiet most of the night, especially in the morning when the delivery trucks start their morning rounds…or when the drunken university students in the area decide to sing in the middle of the road at 3am.
Despite all the noise and heat, we managed to sleep in until 10:30am, a ridiculously late hour for a pair of people on vacation, but damn did it feel good. While it was still fairly warm, the clouds had rolled in over night. Our original plan was to do the open top bus tour all day, but based on the ominous look of the clouds, we decided not to play that game again (last time we were in Paris we got stuck in an open-top bus during an absolutely torrential downpour). Plan B – walk until our feet bleed.
When we’re in Paris, we tend not to eat breakfast at the hotel – there are so many other (often cheaper) options within a close walk that it almost seems silly to eat in the same place every day. After a quick breakfast at a nearby boulangerie (espresso and croissant pour moi, chocolat et pain au chocolat pour Jamie), we headed in the general direction of St. Sulpice.
I’m not sure what I expected of St. Sulpice, having only read of it in the Davinci Code. It was definitely bigger than I’d imagined, although it was hard to see most of it as it was being repaired at the time and quite a bit of it was covered in scaffolding. In the little courtyard next to the church itself was a little expo celebrating the culture of Thailand, put on by the Thai tourist board. Lots of bright colours and music.
The inside of the church is absolutely huge – almost cavernous – as French churches tend to be. I always feel a little uncomfortable wandering around in churches – I’m there as a tourist but for a lot of local people this is their everyday church. After a quick look about, we sat in one of the really uncomfortable chairs and listened to the organ for a few minutes.
When we finally had our fill of the organ music and the uncomfortable heat and chairs (we had joked about bursting into flames upon entering the church, then ironically found it a bit too warm inside), we continued our death march, although we were forced to stop for another espresso not far from the church. Funny “I can’t believe tourists” moment outside the cafe – a woman asked someone on the street where the church was – the person she asked didn’t say anything, just pointed to the GIANT CHURCH RIGHT BEHIND THEM.
We walked from St. Sulpice up Rue de Grenelle all the way to the Eiffel Tower, stopping a few more times for various drinks and lunch. I’d never really spent that much time exploring the 7th and discovered that I really like it. The streets that I saw seemed fairly small and very residential – it seemed like a place that people actually lived in. At the small restaurant we stopped at for lunch, I’m pretty sure we were the only non-locals – everyone seemed to know everyone else.
Once we got to the Eiffel Tower we realize that we weren’t that keen on hanging around with all the crowds of insane tourists – we’d done the tower before and once you’ve been up, you’ve been up. We must be getting better at sending off the ”I’m not interested” signal, because this time the jingle-jangle men pretty much left us alone (they’re called that because, especially at the Eiffel Tower, they jangle big rings of Eiffel Tower key rings).
As we walked down to the Seine, we decided that instead of doing our open top super touristy bus tour, we’d do an equally super touristy river cruise – not quite as good a view as from the top of a bus, but just as relaxing. Plus, we’d be off our feet for a little while, which at this point was a good thing. After the cruise, we continued across the Seine.
At the Trocodero they were doing some sort of roller-blade event – masses of rollerbladers everywhere. One poor girl, who was evidently on blades for the first time ever, made my entire afternoon when she tried to skate down the big, long hill from the top of the Trocodero. At one point, she gathered enough speed with no way to slow down that she felt the best option would be to grab onto one of the poles of an empty display tent that had been set up just off to the side. She managed not only to grab it and hang on, but also managed to spin completely around it off her feet and come through the side. I felt bad laughing, but it was so damn funny.
At the top, there were a group of rather insane French youths who had mastered the art of rollerblading en masse backwards down long flights of stairs. It didn’t seem to be the best idea, and I can’t imagine the state of their drawers just after the first time they tried it…
From the Trocodero, we walked up Avenue Kleber to the Etoile, were we always schedule a few minutes on each trip to gaze in wonder at the barely controlled vehicular insanity being perpetrated in the centre of the city. I’m constantly amazed that people choose to drive through that whirling maelstrom of metal, yet it seems to work.
From the Arc de Triomph, we started up the Champs Elysees, but soon got tired of the crowds of Chanel-wearing shoppers and gawkers, so found a convenient café on a side-street to have a beverage and rest our aching feet for a bit.
We had actually managed to make a reservation for Balzar’s (49 r Ecoles 01 43 54 13 67) that night so couldn’t rest for that long – we walked down to Place de la Concorde, through Les Tulleries, across Pont Neuf (our favourite bridge in all of Paris), and back up to Rue d’Ecole just in time for our 8pm seating.
Balzar’s was the first good restaurant we ate at in Paris on our first trip, and we decided to repeat that meal. I started with the always delicious foie gras, then had roasted rack of lamb with white beans, potatoes and asparagus. Jamie had escargots (you just can’t go wrong with anything cooked in that much butter and garlic), then a steack au poivre for her main course. It was as good as we remembered it, although they really cram you in there – they actually had to pull our entire table out so that I could get to my seat on the banquette. Worth it nonetheless.
As is our tradition, we stopped at La Petite Perigourdine for a quick nightcap (i.e. another bottle of really tasty wine, then to our hotel to pass out from sheer exhaustion.
September 17, 2006
Our second day in Paris turned out to be a day of epic walking.
We didn’t sleep all that well as it turned out – a combination of jet lag screwing up our internal clocks, giant square pillows that I just couldn’t arrange to be comfortable, heat, and street noise. Our room is on the 4th floor over Rue D’Ecole – great view but a bit less than quiet most of the night, especially in the morning when the delivery trucks start their morning rounds…or when the drunken university students in the area decide to sing in the middle of the road at 3am.
Despite all the noise and heat, we managed to sleep in until 10:30am, a ridiculously late hour for a pair of people on vacation, but damn did it feel good. While it was still fairly warm, the clouds had rolled in over night. Our original plan was to do the open top bus tour all day, but based on the ominous look of the clouds, we decided not to play that game again (last time we were in Paris we got stuck in an open-top bus during an absolutely torrential downpour). Plan B – walk until our feet bleed.
When we’re in Paris, we tend not to eat breakfast at the hotel – there are so many other (often cheaper) options within a close walk that it almost seems silly to eat in the same place every day. After a quick breakfast at a nearby boulangerie (espresso and croissant pour moi, chocolat et pain au chocolat pour Jamie), we headed in the general direction of St. Sulpice.
I’m not sure what I expected of St. Sulpice, having only read of it in the Davinci Code. It was definitely bigger than I’d imagined, although it was hard to see most of it as it was being repaired at the time and quite a bit of it was covered in scaffolding. In the little courtyard next to the church itself was a little expo celebrating the culture of Thailand, put on by the Thai tourist board. Lots of bright colours and music.
The inside of the church is absolutely huge – almost cavernous – as French churches tend to be. I always feel a little uncomfortable wandering around in churches – I’m there as a tourist but for a lot of local people this is their everyday church. After a quick look about, we sat in one of the really uncomfortable chairs and listened to the organ for a few minutes.
When we finally had our fill of the organ music and the uncomfortable heat and chairs (we had joked about bursting into flames upon entering the church, then ironically found it a bit too warm inside), we continued our death march, although we were forced to stop for another espresso not far from the church. Funny “I can’t believe tourists” moment outside the cafe – a woman asked someone on the street where the church was – the person she asked didn’t say anything, just pointed to the GIANT CHURCH RIGHT BEHIND THEM.
We walked from St. Sulpice up Rue de Grenelle all the way to the Eiffel Tower, stopping a few more times for various drinks and lunch. I’d never really spent that much time exploring the 7th and discovered that I really like it. The streets that I saw seemed fairly small and very residential – it seemed like a place that people actually lived in. At the small restaurant we stopped at for lunch, I’m pretty sure we were the only non-locals – everyone seemed to know everyone else.
Once we got to the Eiffel Tower we realize that we weren’t that keen on hanging around with all the crowds of insane tourists – we’d done the tower before and once you’ve been up, you’ve been up. We must be getting better at sending off the ”I’m not interested” signal, because this time the jingle-jangle men pretty much left us alone (they’re called that because, especially at the Eiffel Tower, they jangle big rings of Eiffel Tower key rings).
As we walked down to the Seine, we decided that instead of doing our open top super touristy bus tour, we’d do an equally super touristy river cruise – not quite as good a view as from the top of a bus, but just as relaxing. Plus, we’d be off our feet for a little while, which at this point was a good thing. After the cruise, we continued across the Seine.
At the Trocodero they were doing some sort of roller-blade event – masses of rollerbladers everywhere. One poor girl, who was evidently on blades for the first time ever, made my entire afternoon when she tried to skate down the big, long hill from the top of the Trocodero. At one point, she gathered enough speed with no way to slow down that she felt the best option would be to grab onto one of the poles of an empty display tent that had been set up just off to the side. She managed not only to grab it and hang on, but also managed to spin completely around it off her feet and come through the side. I felt bad laughing, but it was so damn funny.
At the top, there were a group of rather insane French youths who had mastered the art of rollerblading en masse backwards down long flights of stairs. It didn’t seem to be the best idea, and I can’t imagine the state of their drawers just after the first time they tried it…
From the Trocodero, we walked up Avenue Kleber to the Etoile, were we always schedule a few minutes on each trip to gaze in wonder at the barely controlled vehicular insanity being perpetrated in the centre of the city. I’m constantly amazed that people choose to drive through that whirling maelstrom of metal, yet it seems to work.
From the Arc de Triomph, we started up the Champs Elysees, but soon got tired of the crowds of Chanel-wearing shoppers and gawkers, so found a convenient café on a side-street to have a beverage and rest our aching feet for a bit.
We had actually managed to make a reservation for Balzar’s (49 r Ecoles 01 43 54 13 67) that night so couldn’t rest for that long – we walked down to Place de la Concorde, through Les Tulleries, across Pont Neuf (our favourite bridge in all of Paris), and back up to Rue d’Ecole just in time for our 8pm seating.
Balzar’s was the first good restaurant we ate at in Paris on our first trip, and we decided to repeat that meal. I started with the always delicious foie gras, then had roasted rack of lamb with white beans, potatoes and asparagus. Jamie had escargots (you just can’t go wrong with anything cooked in that much butter and garlic), then a steack au poivre for her main course. It was as good as we remembered it, although they really cram you in there – they actually had to pull our entire table out so that I could get to my seat on the banquette. Worth it nonetheless.
As is our tradition, we stopped at La Petite Perigourdine for a quick nightcap (i.e. another bottle of really tasty wine, then to our hotel to pass out from sheer exhaustion.
Oct 26th, 2006, 02:00 AM
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Great report BS,
I would have loved to show you my town and do some parts of the owl's trail with you (or show you unknown places). It was just before "nsalerno" spent a few days in Dijon, it would have been fun to make a GTG!
Kay I suggest you start a new posting with questions about St Germain crypt as I don't know it at all.
There is a crypt from the 11°c in St Bénigne church in Dijon you might be interested in.
http://dijoon.free.fr/bestof/saintbe.htm
In the itinerary I gave you on TA, you save a day so maybe you can add St Germain crypt on your way back North...
coco
I would have loved to show you my town and do some parts of the owl's trail with you (or show you unknown places). It was just before "nsalerno" spent a few days in Dijon, it would have been fun to make a GTG!
Kay I suggest you start a new posting with questions about St Germain crypt as I don't know it at all.
There is a crypt from the 11°c in St Bénigne church in Dijon you might be interested in.
http://dijoon.free.fr/bestof/saintbe.htm
In the itinerary I gave you on TA, you save a day so maybe you can add St Germain crypt on your way back North...
coco
Oct 26th, 2006, 12:27 PM
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Coco - I would've loved to have met some fellow fodorites, especially a local in Dijon. Jamie and I are planning on a move to the UK next year and are tossing around the idea of buying a secondary home in France - we loved Dijon so much it'll probably be there.
Tod - that was a lot of walking, even for us. We calculated that we walked a bit more than 15kms on day 2...
Tod - that was a lot of walking, even for us. We calculated that we walked a bit more than 15kms on day 2...
Oct 26th, 2006, 02:19 PM
#18
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Day 3
Monday, September 18, 2006
Damn Technology
Unfortunately, Tuesday night/Monday morning was the second consecutive day of bad sleep for both of us. If anything, it was actually a bit hotter overnight, the street noise a bit louder, the jet lag a bit worse, the pillows a bit bigger and more awkward to position comfortably. We should have taken it all as a sign and stayed in bed – over all it might have been an improvement – definitely less stressful.
We started the day as normal – dragging ourselves painfully out of bed, still exhausted and slightly dehydrated from the wine of the previous night. I decided that I was going to transfer the photos I’d taken so far from the camera to the iPod – purchased specially for photo-storage for this trip. I’d tested the setup at home and all worked as advertised; photos transferred from the camera to the iPod, then to the computer without a hitch or glitch. Feeling supremely confident, I plugged the camera into the iPod and set it up to transfer the 91 photos I’d taken so far, then went to have my shower.
When I got back, the screen on the iPod was blank. I unplugged the camera, assuming the transfer had been completed successfully, although I fortunately decided to check the pictures on the iPod before I deleted them from the camera. When I turned on the iPod, not much happened. I could see the menus, but none of the transferred pictures. Feeling slightly worried, I opened the folder than had some of my previously transferred pictures on it – blank screen there too. Positively panicked at this point, I tried to listen to some music – it just kept scrolling through song titles without actually playing any of the song. Crap.
I’d recalled seeing an Apple store on St. Germain the previous day (Ginkgo’s, 65 bd St Germain) and thought that if anyone had any idea what was going on, they would. I was wrong. No one had any idea what was going on.
We found the store without much problem, and I even managed to explain what the problem was in passable French (“mon iPod, c’est frozen”) – at least the salesman understood what I meant. He asked if it was under warranty, and I replied that yes, it’s only a month old. He explained that he couldn’t even look at iPods under warranty, but that there was a warranty repair store not too far away. He gave us direction on how to get there on the Metro and sent us on our way.
We managed to find it after only a little looking – it turned out it was only 2 stops on the Metro away. I tried to explain the problem to the guy in the store and he took a look at the unit. I quickly realized that whatever French I thought I knew didn’t include the vocabulary necessary to explain the details of a broken iPod, other than the “Mon iPod, c’est frozen”. After holding it to his ear as it scrolled through the song list, he shrugged and explained that the hard drive was fried – a two day repair. As we were leaving the next day, we had to forget about the photo storage AND the 11 gigs of music I’d carefully chosen for the two and a half weeks of driving we were about to embark on.
Feeling a bit down, we decided to walk back to our hotel and figure out what to do next. As it turned out, we were only about 20 minutes away – I think it took longer for us to get there on the Metro. On the plus side, I hadn’t actually deleted any photos from the camera yet so we hadn’t lost anything, and we got to see a bit of the 5th that we’d never really explored before.
We decided when we got back to our neighbourhood that we needed a drink, and maybe some lunch (we have our priorities in exactly the right order). We decided on a little café more or less across the street called “L’Authre Bistrot” (22 Rue des Ecoles 01 43 54 44 57) and found a seat. Having secured a kir and/or beer, as well as a croque paysan (like a croque monsieur, only with cured ham instead of regular ham – evidently the curing process costs an extra €0.80 per croque), we were feeling a bit more relaxed. I decided that plan B would have to do for the rest of the trip. Unfortunately plan B involved finding a store that sold CF cards.
Again, I’d recalled seeing a camera store on Blvd St. Germain, just over in the Odeon. After a few beverages and our aforementioned Croque Paysan (the cured ham might actually be worth the extra €0.80), we headed in that direction. Of course the camera store was closed. It would have been open, but it was Monday. The one damn day of the week the damn store is closed at all. Plus it was about 1pm, so every other store around was closed for lunch as well. Except the FNAC (77 bd St Germain 01 53 10 44 44). I hadn’t actually realized that the FNAC was a technology store, but we took a look in the door as it was the only thing open at that ungodly hour.
Despite my lack of technology vocabulary (I was beginning to suspect that this point that “c’est frozen” was not completely correct French…), we not only found the memory cards I needed (2 gigs worth), but also a little lens brush so that I could clean the accumulated gunk off my camera. The salesman was fantastic – instead of trying to sell me the super-expensive ultra-fast memory cards, he recommended the slightly-less-fast and significantly-less-expensive just-super-fast cards. I was impressed.
I was pleased – I’d purchased technology. That always gives me the warm and fuzzies. Jamie, on the other hand, was not so much with the warm and fuzzies. We decided to walk over to the Place des Vosges – one of our favourite pictures from our last trip was taken there. We made it without incident and even enjoyed the walk, sort of, considering the aching feet and all. Place des Vosges is really nice – soon after we arrived school let out and it filled with French teens doing teenager stuff, as well as large contingents of tourists (including a group of elderly people, all wearing violently bright red t-shirts).
We sat on a comfortable bench for quite a while whilst I wrote in my journal before finally getting bored and tired – we can only watch red-shirted old people for so long before it looses the fascination. We walked back to the hotel for a little bit before going out for dinner.
We’d planned on meeting some friends from Canada that evening. Unfortunately, they didn’t get the email with the specific night and location, so they didn’t show. We had another drink or two at L’Authre Bistro as we waited, then finally gave up and went for dinner. We’d made reservations at an interesting-looking restaurant just around the corner called the “Sud-Ouest (can’t find the specific address – it’s on Rue de la Montagne St Genevieve, just up from Rue des Ecoles)” – the menu looked good and they were completely full two night prior, which we took as a good sign. It turned out to be the best-value meal we had in all of Paris, although we did make a minor strategic error in making our reservation.
When we made the reservation, they asked us if we wanted “smoking” or “non-smoking”. Being both non-smokers and a bit slow, we said “non-smokers”, forgetting completely that this is Paris – EVERYONE smokes in Paris. When we got to the restaurant, they led us down some stairs and through a big cellar filled with long tables, which in turn were filled with happy diners. The room had a little fountain in a well, and one of those accordion/guitar combos that can be so annoying at times, unless you’re in a restaurant in a cellar under a building in Paris (although they did play accordion/guitar version of such classics as Neil Diamond’s “Sad Song Blue” and “the Chicken Dance”). We were led completely through this jolly room, up some stairs at the back into a fairly small and completely empty 2nd room. This, evidently, was the non-smoking area. The entire meal we got to listen to, from a bit of a distance, the laughter and music from the other room. Occasionally, people from that happy place would walk through our sad room on the way to the toilets. They pitied us, I could tell. Damn smokers.
On the other hand, the food was excellent, and plentiful. For the set-menu price of €35, we got a kir, an entrée (we both had foie gras), a main course (I had duck confit), a cheese plate each, desert, a HUGE carafe of wine (I think 1.5L), and a massive bottle of water (again, 1.5L). We had a great time by ourselves in our little room listening to the music and eating ourselves silly. For just about the first time, we were too full to go to La Petite Périgourdine for our nightly bottle of wine. An excellent end to a marginal day.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Damn Technology
Unfortunately, Tuesday night/Monday morning was the second consecutive day of bad sleep for both of us. If anything, it was actually a bit hotter overnight, the street noise a bit louder, the jet lag a bit worse, the pillows a bit bigger and more awkward to position comfortably. We should have taken it all as a sign and stayed in bed – over all it might have been an improvement – definitely less stressful.
We started the day as normal – dragging ourselves painfully out of bed, still exhausted and slightly dehydrated from the wine of the previous night. I decided that I was going to transfer the photos I’d taken so far from the camera to the iPod – purchased specially for photo-storage for this trip. I’d tested the setup at home and all worked as advertised; photos transferred from the camera to the iPod, then to the computer without a hitch or glitch. Feeling supremely confident, I plugged the camera into the iPod and set it up to transfer the 91 photos I’d taken so far, then went to have my shower.
When I got back, the screen on the iPod was blank. I unplugged the camera, assuming the transfer had been completed successfully, although I fortunately decided to check the pictures on the iPod before I deleted them from the camera. When I turned on the iPod, not much happened. I could see the menus, but none of the transferred pictures. Feeling slightly worried, I opened the folder than had some of my previously transferred pictures on it – blank screen there too. Positively panicked at this point, I tried to listen to some music – it just kept scrolling through song titles without actually playing any of the song. Crap.
I’d recalled seeing an Apple store on St. Germain the previous day (Ginkgo’s, 65 bd St Germain) and thought that if anyone had any idea what was going on, they would. I was wrong. No one had any idea what was going on.
We found the store without much problem, and I even managed to explain what the problem was in passable French (“mon iPod, c’est frozen”) – at least the salesman understood what I meant. He asked if it was under warranty, and I replied that yes, it’s only a month old. He explained that he couldn’t even look at iPods under warranty, but that there was a warranty repair store not too far away. He gave us direction on how to get there on the Metro and sent us on our way.
We managed to find it after only a little looking – it turned out it was only 2 stops on the Metro away. I tried to explain the problem to the guy in the store and he took a look at the unit. I quickly realized that whatever French I thought I knew didn’t include the vocabulary necessary to explain the details of a broken iPod, other than the “Mon iPod, c’est frozen”. After holding it to his ear as it scrolled through the song list, he shrugged and explained that the hard drive was fried – a two day repair. As we were leaving the next day, we had to forget about the photo storage AND the 11 gigs of music I’d carefully chosen for the two and a half weeks of driving we were about to embark on.
Feeling a bit down, we decided to walk back to our hotel and figure out what to do next. As it turned out, we were only about 20 minutes away – I think it took longer for us to get there on the Metro. On the plus side, I hadn’t actually deleted any photos from the camera yet so we hadn’t lost anything, and we got to see a bit of the 5th that we’d never really explored before.
We decided when we got back to our neighbourhood that we needed a drink, and maybe some lunch (we have our priorities in exactly the right order). We decided on a little café more or less across the street called “L’Authre Bistrot” (22 Rue des Ecoles 01 43 54 44 57) and found a seat. Having secured a kir and/or beer, as well as a croque paysan (like a croque monsieur, only with cured ham instead of regular ham – evidently the curing process costs an extra €0.80 per croque), we were feeling a bit more relaxed. I decided that plan B would have to do for the rest of the trip. Unfortunately plan B involved finding a store that sold CF cards.
Again, I’d recalled seeing a camera store on Blvd St. Germain, just over in the Odeon. After a few beverages and our aforementioned Croque Paysan (the cured ham might actually be worth the extra €0.80), we headed in that direction. Of course the camera store was closed. It would have been open, but it was Monday. The one damn day of the week the damn store is closed at all. Plus it was about 1pm, so every other store around was closed for lunch as well. Except the FNAC (77 bd St Germain 01 53 10 44 44). I hadn’t actually realized that the FNAC was a technology store, but we took a look in the door as it was the only thing open at that ungodly hour.
Despite my lack of technology vocabulary (I was beginning to suspect that this point that “c’est frozen” was not completely correct French…), we not only found the memory cards I needed (2 gigs worth), but also a little lens brush so that I could clean the accumulated gunk off my camera. The salesman was fantastic – instead of trying to sell me the super-expensive ultra-fast memory cards, he recommended the slightly-less-fast and significantly-less-expensive just-super-fast cards. I was impressed.
I was pleased – I’d purchased technology. That always gives me the warm and fuzzies. Jamie, on the other hand, was not so much with the warm and fuzzies. We decided to walk over to the Place des Vosges – one of our favourite pictures from our last trip was taken there. We made it without incident and even enjoyed the walk, sort of, considering the aching feet and all. Place des Vosges is really nice – soon after we arrived school let out and it filled with French teens doing teenager stuff, as well as large contingents of tourists (including a group of elderly people, all wearing violently bright red t-shirts).
We sat on a comfortable bench for quite a while whilst I wrote in my journal before finally getting bored and tired – we can only watch red-shirted old people for so long before it looses the fascination. We walked back to the hotel for a little bit before going out for dinner.
We’d planned on meeting some friends from Canada that evening. Unfortunately, they didn’t get the email with the specific night and location, so they didn’t show. We had another drink or two at L’Authre Bistro as we waited, then finally gave up and went for dinner. We’d made reservations at an interesting-looking restaurant just around the corner called the “Sud-Ouest (can’t find the specific address – it’s on Rue de la Montagne St Genevieve, just up from Rue des Ecoles)” – the menu looked good and they were completely full two night prior, which we took as a good sign. It turned out to be the best-value meal we had in all of Paris, although we did make a minor strategic error in making our reservation.
When we made the reservation, they asked us if we wanted “smoking” or “non-smoking”. Being both non-smokers and a bit slow, we said “non-smokers”, forgetting completely that this is Paris – EVERYONE smokes in Paris. When we got to the restaurant, they led us down some stairs and through a big cellar filled with long tables, which in turn were filled with happy diners. The room had a little fountain in a well, and one of those accordion/guitar combos that can be so annoying at times, unless you’re in a restaurant in a cellar under a building in Paris (although they did play accordion/guitar version of such classics as Neil Diamond’s “Sad Song Blue” and “the Chicken Dance”). We were led completely through this jolly room, up some stairs at the back into a fairly small and completely empty 2nd room. This, evidently, was the non-smoking area. The entire meal we got to listen to, from a bit of a distance, the laughter and music from the other room. Occasionally, people from that happy place would walk through our sad room on the way to the toilets. They pitied us, I could tell. Damn smokers.
On the other hand, the food was excellent, and plentiful. For the set-menu price of €35, we got a kir, an entrée (we both had foie gras), a main course (I had duck confit), a cheese plate each, desert, a HUGE carafe of wine (I think 1.5L), and a massive bottle of water (again, 1.5L). We had a great time by ourselves in our little room listening to the music and eating ourselves silly. For just about the first time, we were too full to go to La Petite Périgourdine for our nightly bottle of wine. An excellent end to a marginal day.
Oct 27th, 2006, 04:51 AM
#20
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Poor you, with your ipod, quelle aventure!
I can't believe you were the only ones in the non smoking room at the restaurant, since now it is getting more and more common to see non smokers everywhere! And it is also very rare to see 1,5l carafes of wine!
I can't believe you were the only ones in the non smoking room at the restaurant, since now it is getting more and more common to see non smokers everywhere! And it is also very rare to see 1,5l carafes of wine!
