Wed/15
My main objectives for my January trip to Paris was to see the Leonardo show at the Louvre and to take part in the biannual soldes. Only one of these came to fruition.
I had, as I do, applied for an upgrade to my flight, hoping to catch some quality zzzs and arrive relaxed and refreshed. As the days moved forward my hopes looked less and less likely as I was 17th on a list for only 13 seats. At check in time, I was offered the seat for purchase but at $1000, it was a bit too dear for a good night’s sleep. Forgoing that, my flight went well and quickly. I slept for an hour here and an hour or so there. Watched a few movies, but sadly can’t remember what they were.
I also started to come down with a cold the day before so I started a regime of Dayquil and Nyquil that I kept up through the whole trip. I didn’t love the way it made me feel a little off, but I did appreciate not having to blow my nose every five seconds.
Thur/16
We arrived a little early and passport control was a little hectic. There’s no distinct lines and it makes it a very unpleasant welcome for visitors. I was clearly on the wrong line, as it was slow and unmoving, but even with that I was through in about 40 minutes.
I took my passport pictures as soon as I saw a machine and headed to the nearby ticket window. I purchased a new Navigo Decouverte since I have lost, or misplaced the one I bought last trip. At the moment it loads for a week at a time, Monday through Sunday, and is great for just a tap and go experience in the Metro and on the bus. Definitely beats using a carnet of 10 one-use tickets or even the day, or multi-day, Mobilis paper tickets. Having completed the task of getting the Navigo and loading it up for one week, I also bought a one-way ticket back to the airport to use on Monday.
An RER B arrived shortly after and whisked me toward the centre. I took it to Gare du Nord without incident but when I went to transfer to the 4 I was met with some crowd control. This meant being corralled until the platform was empty, then being let in, and waiting for a train or two to go by before I could get on. I transferred at Strasbourg-St Denis for the 9 and took that to Grands Boulevards. The entrance is literally right outside the door to the Holiday Inn Opera-GrandBoulevards. The entrance is small but has some modern furniture and seems secure. The staff was helpful and pleasant and I was offered, and accepted, breakfast for the reduced price of 15 euros. I also dropped my bag, as it was still only around 11am and too early for check in, so I could hit the streets.
First up was another metro two stops further down the street to the Gallerie Haussman, Gallerie Lafayette, and Printemps. These high end shopping centers are like your typical department stores here in the states. Small branded shops ring the store which seemed to go on forever in each of the three venues. Sadly, I wasn’t able to find anything I loved for a price I was willing to pay in any of them. There was a lovely $600 jumper that I would have adored but once I applied the wear to cost ratio, I had to walk away.
After a visit to the American Cathedral, I visited my favourite soldes destination: Kenzo. To be honest, there’s a LOT I wouldn’t wear at Kenzo, too loud prints, large logos, but I have been for each of the prior two years, Jan and July and always walk out with a great item, sometimes its been a dress shirt and others a lovely patterned jumper. This year I scored not one, but two, shirts. I just couldn’t decide between the two and they are both lovely. And blue. Which I said was a palette I wasn’t going for, but the browns are often in slim supply. The salespeople here are friendly, never snobish, always honest, and helpful.
My google maps pointed me toward L’italien where i enjoyed a delicious plate of penne all’arbiata before attacking the Champs Elyssee: Celio, H+M, Zara, Zadig and Voltaire, etc. I bought a nice shirt at Zara, another at Celio, and then feeling a little top-heavy got a pair of dark red plaid trousers at H+M. Feeling more than a little shopped out, and I was only just getting started, I decided to take a break and go and check in.
At the hotel, I made my way up and down to the end of a long hallway to my superior room on the 3rd floor. I love rooms on the end as they have fewer shared walls and tend to be quieter and a bit farther away from the elevators. For a small or medium hotel, this is a great way to go; for a larger hotel I actually prefer something closer, but not next to, the elevators or stairs. I also prefer a lower floor, so as to utilize the stairs if necessary. This is extremely helpful in cases where the elevators are slow or extremely busy. My room started with a long entry way with a large room and the bathroom buffering the room next door.
I was meeting some friends for a quick coffee in the St Pauls area so I metroed over to Bastille and walked from there. Afterward, I realized I could either take one of the last metros of the evening, or walk home. I decided on the later. Including a stroll through my beloved Marais, and then Sentier , where I settled in for dinner at Kapunka Vegan. I had an awesome curry and some great conversation with the waiter (owner?). The place is quite cozy with a row of tables on one side and a bar with stool seating on the other. It’s on a quiet street and is a great place for a nice meal.
Sated and content, I continued my short journey back to the hotel where I completed my packing save the items needed for the morning.
Fri/ 17
I set an alarm but woke up before it went off. Had a shower and shave and went down for breakfast, stopping to see if I could get a late check out thinking I would come back after the museum. Thinking that plan over breakfast I realized I wanted to continue on from the Louvre so I went back and finished bringing my bags down to the surprised desk staff who checked. The minutes ticking away to my 9am ticket for the Leonardo show, as I’m waiting for them to check my bags, I’m trying to figure out the best way to get to the Louvre, which turns out to be walking, and which turned out to be about 25 minutes away.
While power walking, trying not to sweat, and frittering about being late, I tried to remain cool and let whatever happened happen. Since I hadn’t read my ticket closely, like a normal person would who knows the French can be quite particular and specific, I went through the underground Caroussel entrance hoping for both a shorter line and fewer rain drops, although at worst it was misty. I was met with two long line snaking in two different directions and I chose to go to the front and see what I could find out. I saw gates down, a group with flags waving, and not much happening.
When I asked I was told there was no one inside, that there was a strike, that they may, or may not, open later, and that my tickets may, or may not, be honoured tomorrow. I could also request a refund. I definitely didn’t wait around for MAD to open at 11 so I decided to do what any normal person would do. Go shopping. At Bon Marche. Walking up and out, I googled that the best routs was a bus leaving from the southern side of the museum, where I encountered a semi-handicapped woman getting out of a car. I informed her about what I knew but she opted to go look for herself and wave her car away. I did my duty.
At Le Bon Marche I bought a lovely, creamy, mustardy brown wool jumper for $75 and a super-soft white A-shirt for $15! One bargain, one not so much. I looked at a lot of the other spaces on the floor, but didn’t find anything I loved. The jumper salesperson had told me I could ask for the tax information upstairs, but when I went up there I was told there was a minimum and I would need my actual passport, not just a copy. He was pretty rude, and not because he was French. My experience is that most people are pretty nice and helpful as long as you at least try to speak some french, but also try to blend in with the french laid back, more polite and ruled rules of culture. Like I said most. This guy was a dick, but the majority of people I met and interacted with at Bon Marche were great so they win.
I wandered in and out of several other stores nearby, mostly too expensive, including one with a gorgeous mohair blanket in the window that turned out about $200+, which, for the record, I did not buy. A short walk and I took the 63 bus back to Kenzo for their tax papers, which I knew I could procure with either a pic or a photocopy of my passport. As they informed me, they only needed the information; the people at the airport would do the actual confirmation.
I decided to Metro back to to my hotel area, but I got off one stop early and walked. Not too much along the short walk to the next stop, but I found a Hema and bought a little stuffed rabbit, to be my mascot, and a cool printed pillow case covered in bugs on a pink background. I also stopped at the excellent PH7 Equilibre in the 9th where I had a samper plate that had both hot and cold foods. It may be small and look unpresuming, but the flavour was magnificent. I especially loved the beetroots with sauteed sesame seeds, balsamic, and tumeric. WOW. I also enjoyed the fruit juice mix with ginger. So refreshing.
When I reached them, I explored both les Passages des Jouffrey and Panoramas. The latter is mostly restos and cafes while the former is more shops and there is also the Hotel Chopin at the end of the first turn. It must be fun to ring in at night and walk along the deserted passage to return to the hotel! on the street the end of Jouffrey is a kilo shop that also has some priced items. Inside I browsed a lot of almost items but settled only on a medium brown round hat.
Stopped in some stores along the way but only looked. Bought some curtains and a dog toy from the random 5+1- type store next door to the hotel. Got yelled at for walking out from the lady at the front cash register after paying for the goods with the man at the register at the top of the stairs. Nice to feel like a local. And be mistaken for a petty thief.
I picked up my bags from the hotel, consolidated my few purchases inside, and took the 8 to the 4 and despite all the stairs did pretty well. Luckily, a lot of the weight was in the backpack this time so lifting the suitcase was easy. It also wasn’t too hot or too cold so I arrived to check in at Hotel du Cygne in good spirits. A familiar face was at the front desk and since I’d stayed there many times over the years, check in was simple and quick.
I dropped my bags on the 2nd etage room number 211 and then did a walkabout and some power shopping. Diesel, Zadig, American Vintage, and a few others. Mostly browsed, but I brought a lovely, rust-coloured, wool-blend jumper with a long body and arms. I also procured some baked goods at De Belles Maniers: a small Gallette and a Paris Brest. Back at the hotel, the gallette was good but sadly the smalls didn’t have la feve.
Yum.
Met some friends at a studio in the Marais for some great conversation and then walked around looking for trouble. A little was found, but now I am regrouping for round two.
Sa/18
Woke up several times during the night, but couldn’t tell what time it was. Even when I did get up around 7 or 8 the sun wasn’t up. My least favourite part of winter. I had always thought it was the sun that woke me, and perhaps it does have the ability, but I wake up at the end of my sleep cycles, 15mins, 1 hour, 3 hours, 5, and 7. Five being the magic answer. A relaxing start to the day with some juice and cakey things, specifically the Paris Brest I bought the night before, and finally got out the door around 10 or so.
I stopped at a coffee place, not so much for the caffeine as for efficiency and the volume of caffeine, and was finished before I made it to the door. Walked down to BVH and misread the signs, even thought I KNEW menswear was across the street and wandered around the basement hardware section for a few minutes trying to figure out how to get out only to wait for a painfully slow elevator to take me up the one floor.
Finally entering the hallowing shopping mecca, I moved fairly quickly through the expensive lower floor to the more moderately priced first and second etages. I bought a white shirt covered in french newsprint clippings from Sandro and although I then searched for some trousers to complete the outfit, I left without.
Next I visited Coton Doux on Rue de la Verrerie where I picked out three shirts that would do, and would satisfy the 3 for 130 euro sale, but a shirt I really wanted was not available in my size or style. I did get to try on some samples of both the 38 and 39 and found that the 38 was indeed the best fit. Perhaps, as the clerk at Kenzo cautioned, I could wash them in a machine, but I should never even dry them in one. Perhaps this was true of Coton Doux shirts as well. The store clerk called over to an other store nearby and directed me there. I was impressed he didn’t try to make sure i made the sale in his store, but this is Paris, not New York. At the Rue de Rivoli branch I selected the red poppies (coquelicots), a blue paint splatter, and a white shirt with red and black numbers, the first being the shirt I wanted even before I left New York, and the latter being the shirt that begat the phone call and the trip to this branch. She also told me to try the splatter one with just black everything else, pants, shoes, etc. Appreciated the fashion tip.
I stopped into Anatomica, where I was told to not look at the ugly shoes, but to continue on into the back of the store. I was, sadly, not impressed, although with the preview perhaps I was expecting too much. I wandered up Rue des Archives past store after store of wholesale jewelry, vente en gros, hoping to find one that would be retail, but alas no. A little cold, tired, and in need of a wee, I stopped into Sainte Elisabeth de Hongrie, where I knew where to go from a previous visit there.
This is NOT the la toillette.
After a consultation with the Googles, I tried lunch at Hanks Pizza. Having tried the burger, I had an inkling of what to expect, although I prayed for a not so busy with available seating pizza version, and was pleased to find my prayers answered. I had one spinach and one impossible slices with a ginger beverage and sat upstairs in a corner. Next to me were some Welsh tourists, a husband, wife, and youngish daughter looking at maps and developing a plan of attack and ended up giving them advise on the nearby thrift stores.
By accident or purpose, I ended up in Hippy Market, first on Rue du Temple and then on Rue Rambuteau/Boulevard de Sebastopol. All I can say is that it got expensive! Some of the vintage used clothes were as expensive as some of the new pieces I’d already bought and some things were even more expensive. The rack of furs, where I found my brown pocketsless a year ago for a steal, was populated with those $100 and up and moreso there was a proliferation of fauxs that felt faker than a cheap Woolworth rug. One would think I would be estatic I didn’t come home with yet another closet clogging coat.
After so much power shopping, I needed a nice late afternoon 3 pm nap, being mindful of the 6pm Museum ticket I bought for the Bacon show. I woke up around 5 and somehow decided I had enough time for a 2nd neighborhood wander so I went to episode, where I bought a brown print shirt for 10 euro, dropped it off and made it to Pompidiou just in time.
At first the line upstairs was really long, but it moved quickly. I was pleasantly surprised when the inside wasn’t overstuffed with humanity and I was able to see and enjoy the work. I moved through the exhibit quickly but not rushed. There was a lot of work and although it got a little samey, I enjoyed it immensely. As I came out, there is a gift shop straight ahead and another exhibit just to the right. At first it doesn’t look overly inviting, but I am glad I asked if entrance was included with the Bacon, since it turned out it was. Inside was a great journey through photographs and prints that went on for as long as the Bacon exhibit. Really great pairing and I felt completely sated with no need to visit the other floor.
So instead I went out and did a bar crawl of sorts. Several hours later I went home for some much need sleep with nowhere pressing to go the next morning.
Su/19
Slept IN! Woke up at 10:30 to a gaggle of girls outside cackling. Was a little disappointed to have lost some hours on the ground, but I got over it quickly. Prepared my clothes for donation and dropped them off. Dressed way to warm for my trip to Les Halles, the low hanging fruit. I went to all the usual suspects, Berksha, Pull and Bear, Celio, Devred, and even H+M, Zara, and Monoprix. You never know. Picked up a pair of plaid trousers at Zara and a pair of hot jeans at Devred.
Dropped off those things and went for a wander to the north to lok for something to eat. Stopped in Monoprix to look for some cold medecine and got some vitiman C, before walking to a nearby pharmacy to get actual cold medicine.
I took the Metro back down to Etienne Marcel, since i could and I was getting cold, and then walked over to Janine loves Sunday, only to find that she ready does not like Sunday. They serve an abbreviated menu on sunday and, sadly, it was one hit and one miss. The samosas, while tasty, were greasy and bland. The coconut soup, however, was excellent.
Walked back to the Marais and bought a galette for le reve inside. And, then went back to the hotel and ate it until I found it. I started in the center and worked my way out, hoping it wouldn’t be near the outer edge. I ate about half, but I basically bought a small porceline penguin for 16,95. LOL.
I washed up for the evening, deciding to forego a last meetup and made the rounds. Much fun was had of course. I am the KING afterall.
Back at the hotel I paid my tax for the room, and finished the preliminary packing. Have everything I need for the morning and space to put everything that is still out. Kind of having a hard time believing it all fit so easily. Disappointed to find out I can’t find my metro ticket for the train tomorrow. My Navigo ends today so I had bought the ticket along with that and put it in a ‘safe place’. Either it wasn’t that safe, or I’ll use it next time when, and if, I find it when I unpack. Also realizing I need to leave earlier if I hope to utilize the tax back scheme. Hopefully, it won’t be a shit show. I lucked out in London; maybe I’ll have the same luck here.
M/20
I woke up to the second alarm I set, for 5:30am. Not sure what happened to the 5:15p. Had a quick shower and dressed and put the final remaining items into my bag. Got out and down the stairs at 6, and to the train in time, but was delayed by a card that wouldn’t work in the machine. I ended up using cash after 3 tries and receiving an unwanted 9,70 in euro coin and arriving to the platform just in time to see the train depart. Fortunately, there was another 10 minutes later, although it put a little doubt into my tax refund dream.
When I arrived at CDG I changed trains and at Terminal 1 I went upstairs to check in. I then came back downstairs to get my stamp and refund. The office and process could be a little clearer, but now that I know how it works, it seems fairly straightforward. The workers there were nice as well, even when I had a mini-meltdown at the customs stamp machine. I passed through passport control and went to the club even though I only had a short time to visit. Enjoyed some light breakfast and coffee and arrived through security will more than enough time for the flight. Was regaled by two loud Americans having a conversation between their positions on the lines for group 1 and group 2 while the Parisiens cringed and eavesdropped on a family swearing never to come to Paris again because they hater the “hurry up and wait” aspect of CDG. Do I really want to go back home? I adore you Paris. Can’t wait to come back! Especially if people like ‘that’ are staying away! Je vous aime.
Azo's Travels 