elvira

35 days in Paris is a beast to condense, so I’ll do it by categories. If anyone wants <BR>specific details on the travails and travesties, please email me. I will respond (if not with alacrity, at least with good spirit): <BR> <BR>The Apartment: In the 11th arrondissement, not exactly a tourist hotspot, and that was by choice. Owned by a filmmaker whose own apartment was across the narrow cobblestone <BR>courtyard, it had all the amenities, albeit small ones in some cases. The kitchen was tiny, but had everything I needed; the bathroom was TEENY weeny, I had to put my feet in the shower in order to sit on the john (could prove mighty interestin’ for the likes of Patrick Ewing). The apartment had a TV, so I got to watch Dallas, the X-Files and Charmed (three shows I’ve never watched in the states) in French (“Fawx!” “eh, <BR>Skoolee?”). Watched the Olympics, and saw more fencing than I ever knew existed. <BR>There’s a French version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire (another show I’ve never <BR>watched in the U.S.), and from what others have told me, the exact same questions, <BR>responses, hesitations (Votre dernier mot? Oui, c’est le dernier mot) as our version. It’s a great way to learn French, and I really got into it (“Tapisseries, you moron, *that’s* what Bayeux is famous for! What the f**k is the matter with you??”). Hope the neighbors didn’t hear (aah, they didn’t speak English anyway...). The neighborhood had lots of boulangeries, boucheries and patisseries, as well as a couple of supermarches. <BR>Many restaurants (including Indian, Chinese, Italian, Greek, Turkish...kind of <BR>embarassing when I look down my own street and can offer Dunkin’ Donuts and Taco <BR>Bell) and cafes within a stone’s throw (if that’s your idea of a good time) of the <BR>apartment. I recommend the apartment to anyone not too big for the bathroom, and who <BR>wants to really get into ‘living like a Parisian’. The landlord, Georges, speaks wonderful English and is an absolute dear (VERY French - you could not drop him into Des Moines and hope he’d pass; he’d be spotted immediately as a tourist, even without the crispy pink running suit). Sidebar: Georges did it to me a couple of times, and so did some other Parisians, so I’ll let you in on it...if you say something in English they don’t understand, they get this very fierce look and nearly demand that you explain. They are such languagephiles that they don’t like not knowing, and are upset with themselves for falling short. Repeat the word or phrase, then explain what it means. They do NOT forget it. <BR> <BR>Fodorites: Had the great pleasure of meeting two of you in Paris. A delightful lunch with <BR>June at l’Ecluse (bit noisy, though, as we sat outside), and shared some “didjah sees” and “yahgottasees”. A few days later, I pulled a typical elvira. See, there’s this restaurant called the l’Alsace that’s been on the place St Andre des Arts since God was a baby, so I sez “Miss C, let’s meet there for dinner!”. Go ahead, guess what was being demolished...anyway, Miss C and I guffawed over it, and found a nice creperie instead that was NOT being torn down. We met the following night for dinner at Cote Seine - dinner was good, but it was almost all Americans in the dining room. We get chatting with the various folks around, when a French guy leans over and asks us to be quiet because he and his dinner companions can’t hear each other. Okay, you’re right, pal, we are being a bit raucous, so we toned it down. Five minutes later, his dinner companion lights up a cigarette in the ‘non-fumeur’ section we all were in...hmm, now I thinks to myself, which is ruder - talking too loud, or subjecting people to cigarette smoke they deliberately chose to avoid? Food (or smoke) for thought... <BR>

elvira

Elvira goes to Parliament: Took the Chunnel for a daytrip to London. I walked across the Waterloo Bridge (I have *never* walked across the Thames before - I recommend it highly for fantastic views, and the British have nicely put plaques on the railings with a description of the buildings) to the Somerset House, which contains the Courtauld Gallery - a hidden gem. If you are overwhelmed by giant museums and thousands of pieces of artwork, THIS is your saving grace. Small rooms, just a few pieces in each <BR>room, ranging from Gainsborough to Renoir and Monet. No crowds, and without the overwhelming number of pieces found in other museums, a chance to really enjoy each one. To the top with a bullet for this one. I also visited the new Tate Modern - I’m really <BR>glad it was free; modern art is not my cup of Earl Grey. The cube of compressed trash and cardboard was the piece de resistance, and I resisted. Blew outta there like someone was on my tail and gaining. I don’t think I was the only one who felt that way - the most crowded parts of the museum were the lounges that overlooked the Thames....and I didn’t find anything to buy in the museum shop. That oughtta tell you something right there. <BR>But the big do of the day was my personally guided, ever so genteel, loaded with interesting tidbits and sidebars....tour of the House of Lords by a baroness (sadly, she’s a <BR>she, with no doddering, unmarried brothers). I met her in the foyer of the Peer’s Entrance, after having been thoroughly entertained by the Principal Doorkeeper while I waited. Liz took me through the cloakroom (so big deal, but there’s Lady Thatcher’s coathook, and the Earl of Sandwich’s...) into the chambers (ever seen when the Queen <BR>opens Parliament, that big gold throne? I stood right next to it and saw it with my own two eyes), around and through...lots and lots of history and stories and names...oooh moy <BR>brine ‘urts...important trivia: in the House of Commons, a red stripe runs down each side of where the parties sit. The red stripes are exactly two sword lengths apart. During the <BR>not-so-sedate beginnings of the House of Commons, opponents often took their <BR>arguments beyond the verbal, so the two stripes were layed down. If you wanted to speak, you had to “toe the line” - so that disputes were NOT to be settled by crossing swords. And thereby hangs the explanation of that phrase. We then had lunch in...can you believe it...the Peer’s Dining Room. Here I am, a schlub from Arizona, dining with <BR>them dukes (not of Hazzard) and earls and such. Excellent food, very proper dining room...it really was too much for me to take in. Even now, I scrinch up my face, thinking “did I really do that?”. And I did wear a tiara; Liz and I had emails about the visit, and <BR>got off on a tangent with ‘what to wear’ with my asking if ballgowns and tiaras were de rigeur for the tour. Since I already had a tiara (wore it to a friend’s wedding in Las Vegas - another story for another time), I deemed it necessary to embarrass myself by wearing it. Hey, and did any of you guys know there’s a statue of Abraham Lincoln across from the Houses of Parliament?

elvira

Cooking classes: Do it, do it, do it. My first class was at l’Escoffier, and as the time drew near, I started thinking “what have I done, I won’t be able to follow, they’ll all be <BR>experienced chefs, I’ll be humiliated” but I’d already paid the two bits, so I went. My fears were totally unfounded...there were about 10 people in the class, some were home cooks, some were taking other courses at the school, some were chefs. The chef spoke <BR>only French, but he had an assistant who translated everything into English - that also helped with my French, because I could mostly follow what the chef was saying, but then the English translation helped me fill in the blanks. We made sauces: hollandaise, beurre blanc, tomato sauce, tartare sauce...and dinner to go with it, which is where the lapin comes in. I’d grabbed a McDonald’s burger and Coke just before class (which started at <BR>3:30) because I really needed a hit of grease - and fast. Then I go into the <BR>Ritz-l’Escoffier to learn how to make fine French food; the contrast was just too Loon. <BR>So we made rabbit (to go with the mustard sauce) and fish fingers (to go with the tartare sauce) and steak to go with the bearnaise...then sat down to eat it for dinner. I learned a lot in that class - techniques, tricks (like how to save a broken Hollandaise) and helpful hints. It was NOT above anyone’s head, and even an experienced chef could learn something. We each got a folder with the recipes, and a certificate stating we’d taken the <BR>sauces class (going right next to the whisky tasting certificate from Bushmills in the kitchen). A month later, I went to a demonstration at l’Escoffier (no hands-on this time) <BR>and, again, got lots of good tips and techniques (same thing, French speaking chef, and an assistant who translated into English). I took classes from Francoise (3 morning classes) in her kitchen - again, about 10 students. She speaks English, and went from French to English flawlessly. One morning, she and one of the Japanese students went to the market to buy food for class, and came back with something that Miduri had never seen. Francoise asked if anyone knew what it was. I said “that’s prickly pear” and Adi, the <BR>Israeli guy in the class said “it’s sabris” - the two desert rats knew what it was, and how to eat it. I got some great recipes and a lot of helpful tips. I took a day class with Paule <BR>with just one other student, an American woman. We went to the Bastille market to buy <BR>food for our menu - one guy has the best parsley, another guy has the best basil, this guy’s got good walnuts, but this other guy has better almonds - these French take their food VERY seriously. Back to Paule’s apartment to prepare lunch - once again, great tips, great recipes. If you have any interest in cooking at all, you must take cooking classes, no matter where. It’s a wonderful experience, not intimidating, and definitely <BR>information you can use in your own kitchen. I’m hooked, and will take classes in my own city! Georges says he will come to the U.S., and visit me just to make sure I’m practicing what I learned (told him I’d throw together some refrieds and fajitas, and I got <BR>that fierce look again - Lucy, you got some splainin to do). <BR> <BR>

elvira

How I Spent My Days: found a website for architectural walks by arrondissement, so I printed the pages and used that as my format. The 14th has incredible architecture, whether at the University or just in the neighborhoods (found Braque’s house); in the 16th, got into a Guimard house (all those waves and swirls made me a bit dizzy - definitely not my style); found churches never mentioned in guidebooks, with extraordinary stained glass and magnificent altar pieces; in Montmartre, watched the parade of vintners as they started the Vendange (only working vineyard in Paris is in <BR>Montmartre); discovered the Picpus Cemetery - dreadful history, but Lafayette is buried there, and the Stars and Stripes flies over his grave; went to several flea markets - some <BR>were better than others, but all had their fair share of - ahem - crap; the viaduct of artists in the 12eme is a must see (although the Jardins were closed for no apparent reason); <BR>spent a whole day in the Louvre, which was sooo wonderful. I visited parts of the museum I’ve never even seen - you could take just one painting and spend days/weeks studying it - do take a pad and some sort of drawing things like coloured pencils or pastels so that you can sketch things that catch your eye or that will remind you of a <BR>particular painting. I went to special exhibits at galleries and museums; stumbled upon choir performances in churches and could take the time to sit and enjoy. Saw the incredible devastation of December’s storm - there are so many felled trees (and some of <BR>them old growth - trunks five feet across) that the sawmills cannot cut it all, nor is there enough building to use all the lumber. Just mind-boggling - if there were just some way <BR>to get it here and let Habitat for Humanity go at it... <BR> <BR>And, finally, last but not in the least, least...I went to a Bob Dylan concert at the Zenith. Unf**king believable. He’s gone totally rock’n’roll - guitars, drums, keyboard. No girl singers, no horn section - just down’n’dirty. He did lots of his old stuff, like Highway 65 <BR>and Love Minus Zero/No Limit...I know the words, I’m singin’ along, I’m chair dancin’... <BR>and no one else is moving. Man, these French are so...white. Not a head bopped, not a finger snapped, not a shoulder rolled....they just sat there. The place was sold out, so lots <BR>of folks wanted to see him, but they sure didn’t get it. FINALLY, he sings Like a Rolling Stone...and the French sang along with that line. He leaves the stage, and everyone is on their feet, clapping and whistling for an encore. I mean they liked the show, but geez folks, let’s see some hand jive...something...anything...how can you just SIT through rock’n’roll music? Side note: the Zenith is in the Villette, which is sort of like Epcot <BR>Center but not touristy. To kill time before the concert, I went into the Music Museum. Hohum you say...and so did I. I mean, how many harpsichords can you take in? But lo and behold, they gotta twist on it all. You’re given a set of headphones, which pick up <BR>radio transmissions in front of the displays. So say you’re in front of a case of flutes; this guy starts talking about flutes, their history, etc. and then...flute music! Tres, tres cool. <BR>AND there’s a little stage on one floor - when I was there, a man was playing a ... lute. When was the last time you heard someone play a LUTE? He talked about the instrument (all in French but I got most of it), its history, how it’s played, etc. The <BR>museum wouldn’t be on my “list of things to do for 3 days in Paris my first time”, but definitely hit it on a return visit. And it sure wasn’t packed with tourists... <BR> <BR>And that’s what I did on my summer vacation. <BR>

jo ann

Having a bit of insomnia and found this; what great fun to read this, and know that my life's goal: live in Paris for at least 6 months: is indeed a good one. Thanks, Elvira, for taking the time to post it all! <BR>We head back over (for 2 weeks only) next summer, and my husband requested that we stay in parts of Paris I haven't used in my trips-before-him. Any chance you still have the website for architecural walks? That sounds great, since I always walk with my eyes "up" wondering about each building. (Aha! that's how they pick out the American tourists! eyes should be "down"!!)

elvira

this is the site (only 1-4 arrondissements are in English, the rest are in French) <BR>http://www.parisbalades.com/

lisa

Great report, as always, very entertaining. Thanks!

Lori

Thanks for the always entertaining reports. I was also in France during part of the Olympics, and noticed that the television stations showed all Olympics all the time. (particularly caught an Italian station and a French station). Which was in stark contrast to the blant patriotism (favoritism?) displayed by NBC. It was nice to see some of the lesser events like fencing and equestrian, and some of the other countries' teams. Glad you had a great time, it sounds heavenly.

Susie

How was being alone for that time? Were the people nice and easy to get along with? <BR>

elvira

I am pretty much a loner by nature, and really enjoy my own company. I never once felt alone, or alienated, or wishing I had company - a couple of times, I would like to have shared an experience with one of the Loons, but more I felt bad for them THEY couldn't enjoy it, not bad for myself that I hadn't anyone to 'share' it with. <BR> <BR>Before I went, I knew what I wanted to do: the cooking classes, the architectural walks, the day at the Louvre, etc., so I looked forward to each day. I'm pretty good at taking care of myself - I ran out of books to read, but found a WHSmith and bought a couple of paperbacks; I got this weird itchy scalp thing, so I bought some dandruff shampoo (great stuff, by the way, wish I'd bought a case of the stuff it smells so darn good). No fears - I'll talk to anybody, and if they think I'm a goofball - they aren't far wrong. My neighborhood was Americanless, and I got some startled looks in the bakery and the newsstand when I spoke French with my overwhelming American accent - but everyone was nice to me, the newsstand guy tried out his English and pointed out a magazine that was just in, hot off the presses. Even the laundromat lady was patient as I tried to rip the washing machine door off the hinges (ahem - there's a button that opens the door). If I didn't cook dinner, I usually ate in a neighborhood restaurant, and I was quite the topic of conversation for the waitstaff. I got stopped lots of times for directions, and even when they IMMEDIATELY knew I was American, they would take my word when I gave directions (one poor guy apparently had an appointment at Place Vendome, and was headed in the wrong direction. When I showed him the right direction, he looked at me and said <BR>"merde...merci" and took off like a bat outta hell in the right direction). I did run into a couple of brusque people - ticket sellers in the metro, and what else would you expect? - but that was it. The best part was catching the rhythm of the city - people going to work, kids coming home from school, couples meeting for drinks in the evening - whole different feel than the areas where tourists set the tempo. <BR> <BR>If you're not comfortable being alone, worried about how you'll be treated - do it anyway. You'll find out a whole lot about yourself you never knew. <BR> <BR>

Daniel

NOW I know what all the Elvira worship is all about. Dylan in Paris? WOW! My very first "budding adult" concert was the Dylan/The Band "farewell tour" when I was a wee babe of 17. From the sound of things, we should travel together, 'vira. I MUST know how to save a broken Hollandaise.

elaine

elvira <BR>does the repair of the hollandaise involve the use of ice cubes? (that's what I do) <BR>You have definitely inspired me to add at least one cooking school day in Paris to my future plans.

martha python

OK, so no British aristospouse, but what of the count (that dear, clumsy man)?

TJ

I beg to differ on one point . . . that the French are "too white" to rock. I saw the Smashing Pumpkins at the Bercy in Paris last week. From my birds-eye view, I watched a world-class mosh pit in action, bodies being passed from the back of the open-seating main floor to the front, being pulled off the top by security, and then heading back into the pit. Now, it could have been all American students down there, but let's just say, at my advanced age of 34, I was glad to be safely deposited in a mezzanine seat.

elvira

elaine: yes, if your sauce breaks while making it, put an icecube in another pan, then slowly add the sauce, and reheat over low heat. If you've refrigerated the sauce, then put some boiling water in a pan, and slowly whisk in the sauce. <BR>martha - no luck baron hunting. Closest I came was Liz, but she's the wrong gender, not old enough, and has living relatives. <BR>TJ: I differentiate between the mob-like 'partying' done at concerts (I've been there, done that, thank heavens I made it out alive) and having rhythm. It was so odd to see no 'keeping time' in the crowd; it just seems so natural to just start moving to the beat of the music - to sit stone still must take superhuman effort. <BR>And to the recent thread about my boring reports and attempts at wit as I must be an aspiring journalist, I hope I didn't bore everybody and I'm not an aspiring writer; I just think this forum deserves the best writing I can muster - I've gotten lots of enjoyment from others' posts - and helpful hints - so I return the favor. (please, no comments about this last paragraph; I'm not trying to generate any accolades or positive feedback. Just want to let you all know I do this because I'm trying to return the many favors of all the posters on this site)

Jayelle

Some of the French may indeed be "too white", but there is hope with the younger generation. During my trip to Paris last month I paid my usual visit to FNAC to pick up the latest CD from NTM, my favorite French rap group. I had to fight my way through the French kids in the rap section to get anywhere near the CDs. <BR> <BR>BTW, where is Villette? I've never heard of it. <BR> <BR>

elvira

Parc de La Villette is waaaaay up in the 19eme, and is a nice park with several performance venues, a science and technology center, a music conservatory, the music museum, and the Zenith. It's built on the canal, and, to me, all the buildings look like they were designed to resemble ocean liners.

Me

Elvira, don't pay attention to crabapples - everyone loves reading your reports, they're helpful and informative as well as entertaining. I'm glad you take to take the time to post them. I'm leaving for Paris next Tuesday, will be there for a week. I wanted to see about getting some concert tix but can't manage the french tix sites so thought I'd wing it and see what's available when I get there.

bobbie

It so great to come to work and find your next chapter, although I'm afraid I might miss one but look for a creative title....I'm sure everyone around me is wondering what is so funny but I doubt they would ever find ms. elvira. Please keep advising and reminiscing.

Beth Anderson

This is an inspiration, Elvira. <BR> <BR>I know what you mean about Modern Art. I had a date to meet a friend at the Tate Modern, wires got crossed, I spent 45 mins waiting for her there (under the HUGE SPIDER) and when I finally contacted her & found out that she couldn't meet at that time - pretty much "forewent" going through the gallery - & headed straight for the Courtauld. Where I gaped, took pretty good notes, (yes I did keep a journal, which you wouldn't know by my lame trip report of a month ago) and spent way too much money in the gift shop. (sure! everyone loves artwork stationery! and children's books on impressionist art. I can give this one to ____ and this one to ____) <BR> <BR>re: the Louvre. don't you ever stand there and wonder, HOW THE HECK DID THEY PAINT SOMETHING SO BIG? how did they sketch it out, and physically paint it? with ladders? suspended over top of it a la Mission Impossible? what? I can't paint, but I know darn well that if I could, and attempted something so large, that ALL my perspectives would be off. (placement of objects, etc.) <BR> <BR>not a pretty sight to imagine. <BR> <BR>Beth