Two femmes d'un certain age and their daughters take on Paris
#43
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>>a very unfriendly woman who wanted to know why we were going to London and when we were going back to the U.S. (what does that have to do with anything?)<<
You'd be surprised at the number of nice, respectable-looking people who claim to be "just visiting" and somehow end up working illegally (there are a few entertaining threads here somewhere on people who imagine there's some magic formula that exempts them from that sort of rule).
You'd be surprised at the number of nice, respectable-looking people who claim to be "just visiting" and somehow end up working illegally (there are a few entertaining threads here somewhere on people who imagine there's some magic formula that exempts them from that sort of rule).
#44
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Day 12 in Paris: Bubble Wrap and Live Porn
We decided that our last days in Paris would be sightseeing-free. Sister-in-law and niece had a long list of people to buy souvenirs for; I wanted to buy some perfume at the Serge Lutens boutique and daughter wanted to see the Art Deco exhibit at the Pinacotheque (more art gallery than art museum so technically not sightseeing).
After our trips to London and Versailles we were exhausted and sister-in-law and I did not get out of the house until lunchtime. We woke up girls when we returned and then relaxed in apartment while they lunched at La Terrasse (next to the École Militaire métro stop). We had been less than thrilled with the service here but the girls were giddy when they returned; they had been heavily flirted with by waiter and thus discovered the advantage of leaving middle-aged mothers at home. Finally got out of house together and headed to BHV to buy packing supplies (we were given bottles of wine for husbands and decided it was the least we could do to bring them home). Was forced to buy 3ft. long roll of bubble wrap which was only size BHV carried, and then forced to carry large roll of bubble wrap down the rue de Rivoli because nobody wanted to return home to drop it off. Pretended I wasn’t embarrassed and that I looked like a sophisticated Parisian buying moving supplies but in reality I’m certain I simply looked like (embarrassed) middle-aged American woman carrying a giant roll of bubble wrap.
Headed to Serge Lutens perfume boutique in the Palais Royale (http://www.sergelutens.com/ ); I’ve been a fan of their perfume for a long time and wanted to buy a bottle of their newest scent, La Fille du Berlin. The boutique is like a purple jewel box and the perfume selection extensive and almost overwhelming; we were assisted by charming and beautiful young woman, all were dazzled and several bottles of perfume were bought (in fact, we all returned the next day to buy more).
All took naps upon our return (even girls who had slept until 2); the heat was oppressive and we had now lost the evening breeze that cooled the apartment. We decided this night to have our last restaurant dinner at Café des Officiers (planned a picnic in the Champs de Mars for next day). The waiter, who had badly messed up our order the previous week, greeted us as old friends and was particularly nice to me because I had suggested that his error was due to my badly accented French and not his confusion. Everything was perfect (waiter asked after serving us, “It’s all OK?” and broadly smiled when we answered “yes” ). The warm night was perfect for outdoor dining; the scenery this evening became especially interesting when, towards the end of dinner, niece spied two naked men on top floor hotel balcony overlooking the café terrace. On honeymoon perhaps? (yay finally possible!). Camera flashes indicated that they were taking pictures of each other (I assumed that from up there the Eiffel Tower was in the background). Room lights went on. Then off. More people dining on café terrace turned to watch the show and waiter came to see what everyone was looking at. Wait…is one of them kneeling down? Oh, dear…thankfully they decided to finish whatever they were doing inside their room and the show was over. Thanks guys: this was our last café dinner in Paris and it was a memorable one.
We decided that our last days in Paris would be sightseeing-free. Sister-in-law and niece had a long list of people to buy souvenirs for; I wanted to buy some perfume at the Serge Lutens boutique and daughter wanted to see the Art Deco exhibit at the Pinacotheque (more art gallery than art museum so technically not sightseeing).
After our trips to London and Versailles we were exhausted and sister-in-law and I did not get out of the house until lunchtime. We woke up girls when we returned and then relaxed in apartment while they lunched at La Terrasse (next to the École Militaire métro stop). We had been less than thrilled with the service here but the girls were giddy when they returned; they had been heavily flirted with by waiter and thus discovered the advantage of leaving middle-aged mothers at home. Finally got out of house together and headed to BHV to buy packing supplies (we were given bottles of wine for husbands and decided it was the least we could do to bring them home). Was forced to buy 3ft. long roll of bubble wrap which was only size BHV carried, and then forced to carry large roll of bubble wrap down the rue de Rivoli because nobody wanted to return home to drop it off. Pretended I wasn’t embarrassed and that I looked like a sophisticated Parisian buying moving supplies but in reality I’m certain I simply looked like (embarrassed) middle-aged American woman carrying a giant roll of bubble wrap.
Headed to Serge Lutens perfume boutique in the Palais Royale (http://www.sergelutens.com/ ); I’ve been a fan of their perfume for a long time and wanted to buy a bottle of their newest scent, La Fille du Berlin. The boutique is like a purple jewel box and the perfume selection extensive and almost overwhelming; we were assisted by charming and beautiful young woman, all were dazzled and several bottles of perfume were bought (in fact, we all returned the next day to buy more).
All took naps upon our return (even girls who had slept until 2); the heat was oppressive and we had now lost the evening breeze that cooled the apartment. We decided this night to have our last restaurant dinner at Café des Officiers (planned a picnic in the Champs de Mars for next day). The waiter, who had badly messed up our order the previous week, greeted us as old friends and was particularly nice to me because I had suggested that his error was due to my badly accented French and not his confusion. Everything was perfect (waiter asked after serving us, “It’s all OK?” and broadly smiled when we answered “yes” ). The warm night was perfect for outdoor dining; the scenery this evening became especially interesting when, towards the end of dinner, niece spied two naked men on top floor hotel balcony overlooking the café terrace. On honeymoon perhaps? (yay finally possible!). Camera flashes indicated that they were taking pictures of each other (I assumed that from up there the Eiffel Tower was in the background). Room lights went on. Then off. More people dining on café terrace turned to watch the show and waiter came to see what everyone was looking at. Wait…is one of them kneeling down? Oh, dear…thankfully they decided to finish whatever they were doing inside their room and the show was over. Thanks guys: this was our last café dinner in Paris and it was a memorable one.
#45
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PatrickLondon: The question seemed particularly inane to me since we were coming to the U.K. from France and not the U.S. Since we had no luggage and were clearly a group of four (she waved the rest of my group through quickly after questioning me) it would have been quite a stretch of the imagination for her to have thought that we were trying to sneak in the U.K. to work illegally.
I also objected to this woman because she was rude. She interrogated a young man in front of us for quite some time and not only asked him when he was going back to the U.S. but also how he was returning home. He was so nervous that he blurted, "by train" which prompted her to ask, sarcastically, "By train? Really?" After a painful silence the young man stammered, "Train to airport, I mean, then plane" and after a nasty look she passed him through. Quite frankly, I was somewhat frightened to approach the booth!
I'm certain that there are rude border control people working in every country of the world and don't want to pick on the U.K. My point is that if you're the very first "face" of your country you should try and at least be somewhat pleasant to people.
I also objected to this woman because she was rude. She interrogated a young man in front of us for quite some time and not only asked him when he was going back to the U.S. but also how he was returning home. He was so nervous that he blurted, "by train" which prompted her to ask, sarcastically, "By train? Really?" After a painful silence the young man stammered, "Train to airport, I mean, then plane" and after a nasty look she passed him through. Quite frankly, I was somewhat frightened to approach the booth!
I'm certain that there are rude border control people working in every country of the world and don't want to pick on the U.K. My point is that if you're the very first "face" of your country you should try and at least be somewhat pleasant to people.