Paris Rendezvous: Nikki's trip report
Apr 4th, 2008, 06:33 AM
#1
Original Poster
Paris Rendezvous: Nikki's trip report
About a week before the trip, the doubts begin. Will the flight be full and cramped and will my aisle seat disappear in some seat selection snafu? Will my arthritic knees and ankles prevent me from getting around? Will the apartment I rented be uncomfortable or inconvenient in some unforeseen way? Will my friend Carol like it? Will Carol and I find each other at the airport in Paris and if we don’t, will we figure out what to do about it? Will the class at the College de France be filled with young students among whom I will feel like a fish out of water? Will the gathering of internet buddies end up standing in the street because the restaurant we chose is closed or not big enough for our group? And what’s up with this persistent cough?
Fortunately, I now recognize this wave of negativity. Welcome pre-trip anxiety, my familiar friend, this must mean I’m about to go away and have a really great time. And getting to the doctor for some cough syrup and antibiotics will take care of the rest.
This trip was planned in about six weeks. In January, Carol and I and some other friends from college had spent a weekend in New York, which we do every year. While there, we formed this plan for a Paris rendezvous. Carol was on her way to Moscow to do research for two months, and she would stop for a few days in Paris. I would spend those days with her and then stay for a few days after she left. I had not been on my own in Europe since 1972, and the idea was appealing.
So I lined up an apartment, a non-stop flight from Boston to Paris, and tickets for music and theater and ballet. I stepped up my listening to French podcasts and radio on the internet. I printed out enough information to fill several weeks with activity. I got past the pre-trip anxiety. And I showed up at the airport on a Tuesday afternoon in March with the adrenaline flowing. This was going to be fun.
Getting through the airport was a breeze. No line to check bags, no line at security. Plenty of time to buy water and reading material for the flight. Usually I fly to Europe during a school vacation of some sort, but this time I was there at an off hour on an off day, and it was a pleasure. The flight was half empty, and the rear section where I was sitting had many empty rows. The Air France flight crew was friendly and we talked about Paris and about their homes in France while waiting for the flight to take off. I tried to talk a couple of them into a house exchange, but I don’t think they took me seriously. Too bad.
The flight was as comfortable as a flight in coach can be. For some reason, Air France recently changed their schedule between Boston and Paris, running only one flight a day where there used to be two, and using planes that are less nice than the ones they used previously. No individual video, for instance. No problem, I had my iPod and my book and the French newspapers available on the plane.
After arriving at the airport in Paris, I ran into Carol on line at passport control. Our bags all showed up, there was no line for taxis, and we were soon on our way to our apartment near the Bastille. There was pretty heavy traffic, some “bouchons” on the Peripherique. I called the agent who was meeting us to say we would be arriving at the apartment a bit late. The taxi ride cost 55 euros. The agent was waiting for us in front of the building and helped us get our bags into the apartment.
I have posted photos from this trip at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=...localeid=en_US.
Fortunately, I now recognize this wave of negativity. Welcome pre-trip anxiety, my familiar friend, this must mean I’m about to go away and have a really great time. And getting to the doctor for some cough syrup and antibiotics will take care of the rest.
This trip was planned in about six weeks. In January, Carol and I and some other friends from college had spent a weekend in New York, which we do every year. While there, we formed this plan for a Paris rendezvous. Carol was on her way to Moscow to do research for two months, and she would stop for a few days in Paris. I would spend those days with her and then stay for a few days after she left. I had not been on my own in Europe since 1972, and the idea was appealing.
So I lined up an apartment, a non-stop flight from Boston to Paris, and tickets for music and theater and ballet. I stepped up my listening to French podcasts and radio on the internet. I printed out enough information to fill several weeks with activity. I got past the pre-trip anxiety. And I showed up at the airport on a Tuesday afternoon in March with the adrenaline flowing. This was going to be fun.
Getting through the airport was a breeze. No line to check bags, no line at security. Plenty of time to buy water and reading material for the flight. Usually I fly to Europe during a school vacation of some sort, but this time I was there at an off hour on an off day, and it was a pleasure. The flight was half empty, and the rear section where I was sitting had many empty rows. The Air France flight crew was friendly and we talked about Paris and about their homes in France while waiting for the flight to take off. I tried to talk a couple of them into a house exchange, but I don’t think they took me seriously. Too bad.
The flight was as comfortable as a flight in coach can be. For some reason, Air France recently changed their schedule between Boston and Paris, running only one flight a day where there used to be two, and using planes that are less nice than the ones they used previously. No individual video, for instance. No problem, I had my iPod and my book and the French newspapers available on the plane.
After arriving at the airport in Paris, I ran into Carol on line at passport control. Our bags all showed up, there was no line for taxis, and we were soon on our way to our apartment near the Bastille. There was pretty heavy traffic, some “bouchons” on the Peripherique. I called the agent who was meeting us to say we would be arriving at the apartment a bit late. The taxi ride cost 55 euros. The agent was waiting for us in front of the building and helped us get our bags into the apartment.
I have posted photos from this trip at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=...localeid=en_US.
Apr 4th, 2008, 07:23 AM
#2
Join Date: Jul 2004
Posts: 285
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Lovely photos! Makes me want to go back right now. Can't wait to hear about the rest of your trip.
Could you tell me more about your apartment rental when you have a chance? My friend and I would love to go back and I'm thinking an apartment rental instead of a hotel would be better. It looks cozy. Was is just a single person apartment or is it a two bed apartment? would you rent from them again, that sort of thing?
Could you tell me more about your apartment rental when you have a chance? My friend and I would love to go back and I'm thinking an apartment rental instead of a hotel would be better. It looks cozy. Was is just a single person apartment or is it a two bed apartment? would you rent from them again, that sort of thing?
Apr 4th, 2008, 08:12 AM
#4
Join Date: Jul 2004
Posts: 285
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Nikki, I found your link to the apartment on another of your posts. However, I'm still curious as to how you liked it. It says it sleeps up to 4, so I'm assuming it must have a sofa bed.
Still looking forward to more of your report.
Still looking forward to more of your report.
Apr 4th, 2008, 09:12 AM
#6
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 5,232
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Hi Nikki,
Thanks for letting me travel vicarously with you. What's up with AirFrance and Boston? I feel like we are the poor relations. Does anyone else fly direct to CDG? I hate to back track since Boston is one of the closest airports to Europe. Looking forward to the rest of the trip.
Thanks for letting me travel vicarously with you. What's up with AirFrance and Boston? I feel like we are the poor relations. Does anyone else fly direct to CDG? I hate to back track since Boston is one of the closest airports to Europe. Looking forward to the rest of the trip.
Apr 4th, 2008, 09:28 AM
#7
Original Poster
The apartment is just right for us. It is listed at http://www.vrbo.com/24464. It has one bedroom with a queen-size bed. There is also a sleep sofa in the living room. There are high ceilings with beautiful plaster work, and windows from floor to ceiling let in lots of light. Off the kitchen, there is a small terrace. I would happily return.
Carol and I admire the apartment, put our things down, and head out in search of breakfast, or lunch, or whatever meal our body clocks can assimilate. We walk to the Café Sully just a couple blocks away on the Boulevard Henri IV. There the waitress says, “Je vous écoute.” We order omelets and grin at our good fortune.
After eating, we walk across the Pont de Sully to the Ile St. Louis. We stop and buy cheese and bread for the apartment and wander into some of the small shops along the rue St. Louis en l’Ile. In the Pylones store I buy some colorful kitchen gadgets for my mother, who collects such things. We make our way to Notre Dame and go inside. We hear singing and follow the sound to the front of the cathedral but determine that the music is a recording. At least we think it is; I suppose an entire choir could have been hiding in a large nook or cranny in such a vast space, but we don’t see one.
At this point I am fading fast. Time to make our way back to the apartment. We cross over to the left bank, walk to the Boulevard Saint Germain, and catch the bus, which lets us off in front of the café where we had our lunch.
Back in the apartment we take naps, settle in, review our plans, and make reservations for dinner at Le Pamphlet, at 38 rue Debelleyme in the third arrondissement, telephone 01 42 72 39 24. I had eaten here five years ago and loved it and have wanted to return ever since. Once again, I think it is a great bargain. There is a three course menu for 35 euros, if I remember correctly. I have some kind of pate with foie gras, then a dish that I remember being described as something like “a tour around the roast pig”, with several small pieces of different preparations of pork and sausage. There are complimentary dishes presented between courses. My note taking takes a back seat to my enjoyment of the meal, so sadly I can not give thorough or accurate descriptions, but this restaurant is every bit as wonderful as I remember.
Carol and I admire the apartment, put our things down, and head out in search of breakfast, or lunch, or whatever meal our body clocks can assimilate. We walk to the Café Sully just a couple blocks away on the Boulevard Henri IV. There the waitress says, “Je vous écoute.” We order omelets and grin at our good fortune.
After eating, we walk across the Pont de Sully to the Ile St. Louis. We stop and buy cheese and bread for the apartment and wander into some of the small shops along the rue St. Louis en l’Ile. In the Pylones store I buy some colorful kitchen gadgets for my mother, who collects such things. We make our way to Notre Dame and go inside. We hear singing and follow the sound to the front of the cathedral but determine that the music is a recording. At least we think it is; I suppose an entire choir could have been hiding in a large nook or cranny in such a vast space, but we don’t see one.
At this point I am fading fast. Time to make our way back to the apartment. We cross over to the left bank, walk to the Boulevard Saint Germain, and catch the bus, which lets us off in front of the café where we had our lunch.
Back in the apartment we take naps, settle in, review our plans, and make reservations for dinner at Le Pamphlet, at 38 rue Debelleyme in the third arrondissement, telephone 01 42 72 39 24. I had eaten here five years ago and loved it and have wanted to return ever since. Once again, I think it is a great bargain. There is a three course menu for 35 euros, if I remember correctly. I have some kind of pate with foie gras, then a dish that I remember being described as something like “a tour around the roast pig”, with several small pieces of different preparations of pork and sausage. There are complimentary dishes presented between courses. My note taking takes a back seat to my enjoyment of the meal, so sadly I can not give thorough or accurate descriptions, but this restaurant is every bit as wonderful as I remember.
Apr 4th, 2008, 11:38 AM
#8
Original Poster
Thursday comes, and it is Carol’s birthday, as well as the first day of Spring. I am really looking forward to our first activity, a class at the Collège de France in the Latin Quarter, next to the Sorbonne. This is a possibility I encountered while looking for podcasts to listen to. I was told that there were college courses and lectures that could be downloaded onto an iPod, and I had gone on a search for such things, coming up with, among others, some courses from the Collège de France. Podcasts can be downloaded from the website, http://www.college-de-france.fr/defa..._pod/index.htm.
Out of curiosity, I downloaded some lectures to see if I would understand the French. I was greatly pleased to find that I did. I had been listening for some time to a wonderful lecture about literature before I realized by looking at the professor’s name that he was English. I figured that explained why he was speaking more slowly than many of the French speakers I had heard, and certainly more slowly than the French movies that I can not understand without subtitles. I had some vague idea that listening to an Englishman give a lecture in French was cheating. I looked at his biography on the Collège de France web site and did an internet search and learned that the lecturer, Michael Edwards, had been nominated to the Académie Française, the organization charged with the task of maintaining the integrity of the French language. So I figured if he was good enough for them, he was good enough for me.
I became thoroughly engrossed in the lectures, listening to several at home, finding the works discussed in the lectures, reading and analyzing them. And then it occurred to me that I could attend a class in Paris. The schedule is on the Collège de France website, and I saw that Michael Edwards was giving the class that I had been following on podcast on Thursdays at 11:30. According to the website, classes are all free and open to the public, no registration required. I mentioned the idea to Carol, who was intrigued and said she would be interested in going with me. I was glad for that, since I might not have gone alone, not knowing how comfortable an environment it would turn out to be.
So Thursday morning we take the bus to the Collège de France. We find the lecture hall, which is a large, modern classroom. There is a class in progress, so we wait in the lobby. There is a table with copies of the two poems that will be discussed in the lecture, so we read them and try to work out the vocabulary while we wait. I am relieved to see that there are many people our age (mid-fifties) and older in the classroom. As people start to trickle in for the next class, several come up to me and ask me questions, since I’m seated on a bench at the entrance to the classroom. I hope I am giving them answers that make sense, and in retrospect I don’t think I gave out any faulty information. It becomes clear that many people are doing as we are, and are arriving to hear this one lecture without having attended the previous sessions of the course. This is reassuring.
Carol and I both thoroughly enjoy the class. This is my new favorite thing to do in Paris. The lecturer is wonderful, the audience attentive, the atmosphere comfortable, and I relax knowing that whatever I miss from the lecture I can hear on the podcast when it becomes available.
When the class ends, we take a bus to the Bastille and have crepes for lunch in a café. Then we walk to the Bassin de l’Arsenal, the marina just below the Bastille, for our boat ride up the Canal St. Martin.
Out of curiosity, I downloaded some lectures to see if I would understand the French. I was greatly pleased to find that I did. I had been listening for some time to a wonderful lecture about literature before I realized by looking at the professor’s name that he was English. I figured that explained why he was speaking more slowly than many of the French speakers I had heard, and certainly more slowly than the French movies that I can not understand without subtitles. I had some vague idea that listening to an Englishman give a lecture in French was cheating. I looked at his biography on the Collège de France web site and did an internet search and learned that the lecturer, Michael Edwards, had been nominated to the Académie Française, the organization charged with the task of maintaining the integrity of the French language. So I figured if he was good enough for them, he was good enough for me.
I became thoroughly engrossed in the lectures, listening to several at home, finding the works discussed in the lectures, reading and analyzing them. And then it occurred to me that I could attend a class in Paris. The schedule is on the Collège de France website, and I saw that Michael Edwards was giving the class that I had been following on podcast on Thursdays at 11:30. According to the website, classes are all free and open to the public, no registration required. I mentioned the idea to Carol, who was intrigued and said she would be interested in going with me. I was glad for that, since I might not have gone alone, not knowing how comfortable an environment it would turn out to be.
So Thursday morning we take the bus to the Collège de France. We find the lecture hall, which is a large, modern classroom. There is a class in progress, so we wait in the lobby. There is a table with copies of the two poems that will be discussed in the lecture, so we read them and try to work out the vocabulary while we wait. I am relieved to see that there are many people our age (mid-fifties) and older in the classroom. As people start to trickle in for the next class, several come up to me and ask me questions, since I’m seated on a bench at the entrance to the classroom. I hope I am giving them answers that make sense, and in retrospect I don’t think I gave out any faulty information. It becomes clear that many people are doing as we are, and are arriving to hear this one lecture without having attended the previous sessions of the course. This is reassuring.
Carol and I both thoroughly enjoy the class. This is my new favorite thing to do in Paris. The lecturer is wonderful, the audience attentive, the atmosphere comfortable, and I relax knowing that whatever I miss from the lecture I can hear on the podcast when it becomes available.
When the class ends, we take a bus to the Bastille and have crepes for lunch in a café. Then we walk to the Bassin de l’Arsenal, the marina just below the Bastille, for our boat ride up the Canal St. Martin.
Apr 4th, 2008, 03:34 PM
#10
Original Poster
The weather forecasts for the whole week are questionable, but the chance of rain today is slightly less than the other days we will be together, so we have picked this day for the canal ride. A description, schedule and prices can be found on the web site: http://www.canauxrama.com/produits/e_fiche5.htm. We find the boat with no problem and sit inside the heated cabin. As the boat starts to move, however, I go outside to the open deck to take photographs. The first part of the trip goes through the tunnel underneath the Place de la Bastille and the Boulevard Richard Lenoir. There are openings in the roof which let in light and through which one can see branches, sky, random pieces of trash. When we emerge from the tunnel in the tenth arrondissement, we enter a series of locks. It takes a while for the water level to rise sufficiently to open the gates from one lock to the next, and during this time the guide tells us about the history of the area and of the canal. It is entertaining and informative, and I enjoy photographing the bridges and the people along the canal. The boat makes its way all the way up to the Parc de la Villette, which appears mostly abandoned on this wintry day.
We take the metro back to the apartment and decide what to do for supper. Carol wants to go to La Coupole for her birthday dinner, so that is what we do. We take a bus to Montparnasse and celebrate with a big platter of cold seafood and share an order of choucroute. The atmosphere is festive but a bit bizarre. Two men in very colorful attire and turbans are circling the dining room dishing out lamb curry to those who order it. We are surrounded by people speaking a variety of languages. Carol declares her birthday a success all around. I am pleased, because she has not been to Paris in over twenty years.
Friday morning we get a late start. Carol goes to the Louvre, but I have decided to skip that for this trip and meet her later at the Musée de l’Orangerie. By the time Carol is up and out of the apartment it is almost lunch time. We will not be having a full dinner later because we have concert tickets at 7:30, so I decide to have lunch at a restaurant near the apartment, Restaurant l’Écume, http://www.imagespro.fr/lecume/index.htm. I order the menu Parisien for around 26 euros. This comes with a great thick steak made from Salers beef (posters for this beef with pictures of cattle grazing line the walls), served with three sauces: bearnaise sauce, pepper sauce, and a sauce made from olive oil and fresh tomatoes. There are pureed potatoes with butter. This is followed by a salad with pine nuts and a large slice of brie.
Ready for a nap after my large meal, instead I walk to the bus stop and make my way to the Musée de l’Orangerie to meet Carol. There is a line outside, and while I wait on it Carol appears. She had a rushed visit at the Louvre and I was glad I hadn’t gone there, but she enjoyed it.
I have been to Paris several times over the past eight years, and this is the first time that the Musée de l’Orangerie has been open. It was under renovation for several years and if I understand correctly, the process was slowed by the discovery of archeological artifacts during the reconstruction and the need to preserve them. This museum was therefore on my short must-see list.
The upper floor of the museum is devoted to Monet’s Nymphéas, the Waterlillies. These are displayed in two skylit oval rooms with benches in the center. One can sit and appreciate the effect of the changing light on the paintings much as Monet must have done while painting the gardens at different times and in different seasons. The lower floor contains a wonderful collection of impressionist and early modern art. We spend about two hours in this museum.
My one visitor tip for this museum has to do with visiting the ladies’ room on the lower floor. The way I learn to turn on the water in the sink is when a very tall man appears behind me and demonstrates the foot pedal on the floor beneath the sink. He is evidently changing the towel (no paper towels here, just a roll of towel in a dispenser) and sees that I need help. Now if you go, you won’t need to wait for him, because you have learned the secret from me.
We take the metro back to the apartment and decide what to do for supper. Carol wants to go to La Coupole for her birthday dinner, so that is what we do. We take a bus to Montparnasse and celebrate with a big platter of cold seafood and share an order of choucroute. The atmosphere is festive but a bit bizarre. Two men in very colorful attire and turbans are circling the dining room dishing out lamb curry to those who order it. We are surrounded by people speaking a variety of languages. Carol declares her birthday a success all around. I am pleased, because she has not been to Paris in over twenty years.
Friday morning we get a late start. Carol goes to the Louvre, but I have decided to skip that for this trip and meet her later at the Musée de l’Orangerie. By the time Carol is up and out of the apartment it is almost lunch time. We will not be having a full dinner later because we have concert tickets at 7:30, so I decide to have lunch at a restaurant near the apartment, Restaurant l’Écume, http://www.imagespro.fr/lecume/index.htm. I order the menu Parisien for around 26 euros. This comes with a great thick steak made from Salers beef (posters for this beef with pictures of cattle grazing line the walls), served with three sauces: bearnaise sauce, pepper sauce, and a sauce made from olive oil and fresh tomatoes. There are pureed potatoes with butter. This is followed by a salad with pine nuts and a large slice of brie.
Ready for a nap after my large meal, instead I walk to the bus stop and make my way to the Musée de l’Orangerie to meet Carol. There is a line outside, and while I wait on it Carol appears. She had a rushed visit at the Louvre and I was glad I hadn’t gone there, but she enjoyed it.
I have been to Paris several times over the past eight years, and this is the first time that the Musée de l’Orangerie has been open. It was under renovation for several years and if I understand correctly, the process was slowed by the discovery of archeological artifacts during the reconstruction and the need to preserve them. This museum was therefore on my short must-see list.
The upper floor of the museum is devoted to Monet’s Nymphéas, the Waterlillies. These are displayed in two skylit oval rooms with benches in the center. One can sit and appreciate the effect of the changing light on the paintings much as Monet must have done while painting the gardens at different times and in different seasons. The lower floor contains a wonderful collection of impressionist and early modern art. We spend about two hours in this museum.
My one visitor tip for this museum has to do with visiting the ladies’ room on the lower floor. The way I learn to turn on the water in the sink is when a very tall man appears behind me and demonstrates the foot pedal on the floor beneath the sink. He is evidently changing the towel (no paper towels here, just a roll of towel in a dispenser) and sees that I need help. Now if you go, you won’t need to wait for him, because you have learned the secret from me.
Apr 4th, 2008, 03:45 PM
#11
Original Poster
Thanks to all for taking the time to read and posting the nice comments.
AGM, in addition to Air France, only American Airlines flies nonstop from Boston to Paris, as far as I know. And they only seem to have flights in the summer, and even then not every day. It appears that there are two flights a day on Air France in the summer. But in March, only one flight a day, and only Air France.
AGM, in addition to Air France, only American Airlines flies nonstop from Boston to Paris, as far as I know. And they only seem to have flights in the summer, and even then not every day. It appears that there are two flights a day on Air France in the summer. But in March, only one flight a day, and only Air France.
Apr 5th, 2008, 12:18 AM
#16
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 13,394
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Hi Nikki, a great report - thank you! I've just discussed your class with my husband who teaches high school French here in Australia and he is going to attend one when we are in Paris in June! Thank you so much as we would not have known this is a possibility.
Apr 5th, 2008, 05:22 AM
#17
Original Poster
CathieS, I have been looking at the schedule of classes in June, and they seem pretty thin on the ground. Make sure you check out the schedule at http://www.college-de-france.fr/defa...enda/index.jsp to see if there is something your husband would be interested in.
Apr 5th, 2008, 05:42 AM
#18
Great report and great pics! We are going in June with our teen daughters. It is our first family european vacation. Paris is our first stop. I love to hear about the different favorite places to visit and eat.
thanks.
thanks.
Apr 5th, 2008, 07:37 AM
#19
I know that a lot of people want a blow-by-blow account of every meal with a mention of each morsel and as many adjectives as possible, but I like your general impressions and just a statement of the cost. I like to go into restaurants and discover unexpected things, not have a list of exactly what to expect.
Anyway -- excellent trip report!
Anyway -- excellent trip report!
