Au Revoir Paris! Au Revoir Family!

 Trivia:  What do you think this is?  Read down below for the answer!

When last we spoke (well you listened) my family had been in Paris for just about a day, and was in a great apartment with the Eiffel Tower out the window.  I am now writing from the end of the trip, sitting in Charles DeGaulle Airport as I wait for my flight back to Prague.  The rest of my family is off in the international terminal, probably boarding their flight to Detroit right about now.

Warning and Note:  this is longer than the Berlin post (a new world record).  Sorry, I just do a stream of consciousness thing and go with the flow.  Also, I just added some pictures to the previous post, so please check those out.

Overall, I really liked Paris a lot more than Berlin.  Actually, the two cities are not really comparable in any way, shape or form.  Paris, first of all, is beautiful.  It is not the same type of beauty Prague has, which is more or less medieval.  Paris is just grand.  Everything about it is big and done in a way that attempts to please the eye.  Unlike Berlin, the “coolness” of Paris is not as dark, and of course the difference in histories have created much different cultures.  And, most stereotypes about the French and Parisians seem to hold true, but more on that later.

I’m sure that a big reason I like Paris and the feel of the city is that it reminds me of my favorite city, Washington, DC.  The French were an ally during the Revolutionary War, and the French influence on the construction of our nation’s capital is so apparent.  There are buildings in Paris that look the SAME as the U.S. Capitol, the White House, and more.  The straight-line alignment of the Lourve, Toulleries Gardens, the Obelisk, and the Champs with the Arc de Triumph at the end and the Eiffel Tower off to the side is the same basic idea as the National Mall, where the Capitol, Washington Monument, and Lincoln Monument are all in a row with the White House off to one side.

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The kids and grandpa on Pont Neuf

Like DC, Paris also has a great metro system.  After our blunders of the first day, trying to get a metro ticket, Friday and Saturday we had some very nice tellers at the metro station who sold us day tickets and spoke English.  Once we had a ticket, the metro system was great, getting us everywhere (though some stations could be more clearly marked on the street).

However, the people in DC and the people in Paris are definitely not the same.  DC people are very busy, very into work and moving ahead in careers, and very political (duh).  Parisians are a different breed.  Everything moves at a slower pace, from meals to work to strolling along the boulevards.  How you look is so important; fashion in Paris apparently says a lot about people, because the nice clothes and scarves and such were everywhere.

This past summer, I thought DC was expensive, and then I came here and realized that Paris is on another level.  I’m not quite sure how regular people can afford to live here.  Waiters and department store workers and bartenders much make much more money than in America because the cost of living an “acceptable” life in Parisian terms is ridiculous.  Even simple things cost a lot more money, especially compared to Prague.  A middle-class Parisian would be a rich Czech person for sure.

I think, all in all, that what people think about the French is pretty much true.  A lot of them are rude and condescending, because after all, what can be better in the world than being a Parisian?  I’m not sure if this attitude is just towards Americans, or all other people.  That one is hard to answer.  People look nicer here, and again, like Prague, there aren’t very many bigger/obese people walking around.  I guess they all smoke cigarettes and drink wine instead of eating.  (And yes, body odor was present at times, but actually not more than usual).

Now, let’s get onto the itinerary Friday and Saturday, which you can supplement with whatever my family sends out and my mom posts on facebook in the near future.  Friday morning, we had a leisurely breakfast in our apartment.  Mom and Dad picked up some bread and pastries from Rue Cler around the corner, and we set out for the day’s activities.

Our plan was to go to Notre Dame and Saint Chapelle churches, get the museums out of the way, and wander around the Marais and Jewish part of Paris.  Again, this is why I like my family at times, because we not really museum people. (Who goes to Paris and goes to the Lourve to “get it out of the way?”  We do.) We are eating people.  This time, taking the metro was much easier, as the person who sold us day tickets was friendly enough and we understood what we were doing this time.

We visited Notre Dame, and I think we found it pretty cool.  There was a service about to start, so part of the church was blocked off.  But, it was pretty inside and the history was great, of course.  We made our way towards Saint Chapelle, but the line was really long and not moving.  Because of our short time in Paris, it wasn’t worth it to wait however many hours to go in.

After Saint Chapelle, we of course stopped on Pont Neuf, the bridge where “everyone romantic movie ends with the two people kissing and getting together.”  The views of Paris were awesome along the river, even though it was cloudy and a bit cold.

 Mom and Dad on the romantic Pont Neuf.

We then crossed the river and headed to the Lourve.  In my opinion, the most impressive thing about the Lourve is the building itself, which is a work of art.  As Napolean’s Palace, of course it is enormous.  The modern glass pyramids that form the entrance are really cool.  After buying tickets, we headed straight for the Mona Lisa (which is not nearly as awesome as the painting on the opposing wall, which is the biggest painting I have ever seen and is of a feast, the name escapes me).

On the way, we saw the statue for Nike, the Winged Goddess of Victory, and also the source of inspiration for the Nike swoosh.  As far as things inside the Lourve go, excluding the interior decorating, this is my favorite thing in the museum.  I just think the status is magnificent.  Feel free to disagree.

Okay, then we saw the Mona Lisa.  That was that.  We went to find the famous statue hall, and saw Michelangelo’s Venus de Milo, the famous statue without any arms.  Daniel wanted to see Hammurabi’s Code, one of the first set of laws ever, which were carved in stones, so we went to see that, and we were done with the Lourve.

If it seems like I’m going fast here, it’s because we did go fast.  All of this was before lunch on Friday.  I told you, we aren’t really museum people.  We went to the Lourve because how could we go to Paris and not go to the Lourve.

We hopped on the metro and went to the Rue de Rivoli and the Marais, right where I stayed the first time I came to Paris a couple years ago, as my Uncle’s high school graduation present for me.  I love the Marais, and it is tied as my favorite neighborhood in Paris with Saint Germaine.  We stopped at a café, had a typical French lunch with omellettes and Croque Monseiur and Croque Madame, and salads, and of course baguettes.  The waiter was so friendly, maybe the friendliest Parisian in the world.

Daniel and Dad ordered the Croque Madame (ham sandwich with baked cheese, and a fried egg on top) and Mom and Sara ordered the Croque Monseiur (same thing minus the egg), so the waiter joked that the males ordered the Madame and the females ordered the Monseiur.  I got an omelet, and grandpa ordered a ham baguette I believe.

By lunch’s end, it was mid afternoon, so we wandered through a couple streets in the Marais, stopped to get a cookie in a bakery, and found the Jewish part of town.  Because it was Friday afternoon, just before Shabbat, the place was hopping.

 The main Jewish street in Paris, with beautiful challah in one window.

Everyone was shopping for last minute Challah, or picking up food for dinner for the night, or just celebrating.  We stopped in a really cool gallery and got some Bar/Bat Mitzvah presents (the same gallery I got Sara her Bat Mitzvah present three years ago, a necklace). 

After this gallery, we kept walking down the street and saw some Chabad guys hanging out, dancing, and talking to people down the block.  Generally, at home, I’m not so much of a Chabad guy.  I’m reform, so we have a lot of different customs, and Chabad always seems pretty intense for me.  Not that it’s bad, it’s just not me. 

Well, why do I say all this?

As we passed them, Mom of course said, “Shabbat Shalom” because it was polite, and they were Jewish, and we were Jewish.  Well, upon hearing this and realizing that there were some Jews with interest in their presence, the Chabad guys sprang into actions and tried to get us to come over, and say some prayers, and put on some tefillin.

Daniel decided it was a good idea to try tefillin.  Again, my family is reform, so the last time my dad put on tefillin was his Bar Mitzvah, and my brother and I had never done it.  So somehow I got roped into doing it, with my only consolation being that Dad also got roped into it.  Grandpa managed to escape by booking it down the street (aka, running away).

It turned out to be pretty cool, and an awesome memory.  We said the Sh’ma, a couple other prayers, took some pictures with the guys, gave them a little donation, and went on our way.

Why?  I do not know.

Judaism is universal, cross-cultural.  When I went on Birthright, we had a speaker talk to us about Jews being “unified without being uniform.”  So far, between our guide Vida in Terezin/Prague and the Jewish section in Paris, I can see how this is so true.

We then passed some falafel stands, but managed to restrain ourselves.  We checked out a Jewish clothing shop, then went to the kosher bakery across the street where I got the most amazing Baklavah ever.  They know how to make it there.

By this point, we were pretty tired.  But before we went back to our apartment, we stopped at Musee de L'Orangerie (one of the few museums Mom really wanted to go to) to see Monet's incredible water lilies.  Quite simply, they were beautiful.  They were in circular panels surrounding two rooms.  There were a ton of famous pieces of art in this museum, from Picasso to Matisse to Renoir.

Surrounded by water lilies; my family outside the museum.

We went back to the apartment to nap, rest, and get ready for dinner with my friend Sophie who is in Prague with me.  Her family was also visiting, so our two families plus a bunch of Sophie’s friends from home, who were in Paris, all went to Chez Andre, a pretty typical French Bistro close to the Champs.  Dinner was okay, but the company was great.

After dinner, I went out with Sohpie and her friends to the Eiffel Tower, to watch the light show, and then to Saint Germaine to try and find a bar that apparently serves drinks in baby bottles.  Whether this bar exists or not is still a mystery to me, because we never found it.  I ran into Danielle, a friend of mine in Public Policy at Michigan, who is studying in Florence but was visiting Paris.  I also ran into another friend, Tim, who is studying in Prague but does not go to Michigan.  So no, we never found the bar; instead, we went inside another cool bar, very Paris, and had a glass of wine.  I thought about trying to meet with other friends at a club, but I was just way too tired.  We split cabs home, and I called it a night.

 Sophie and I with the Eiffel Tower in the background.

Saturday, we had to wake up relatively early and switch to a hotel down the street, because another group had reserved the apartment for the next few days.  Sara had some difficulty figuring out how to use our key to our room, but Daniel let her in (eventually, after we both laughed pretty hard).  We then decided to go to the church Sacre Coeur, which is on a hill overlooking Paris with beautiful views in a neighborhood called Montemarte.

The church was really cool, but the most interesting part was that there was a mass going on while we wandered around with the other tourists inside.  Honestly, there were probably as many religious people in that church as in the entire Czech Republic.  Okay, slight exaggeration, but seriously, a huge huge HUGE different between Prague and Paris is that in Paris, people are religious, and the churches and synagogues are still used very often and well-attended. 

We wondered if the people in the church thought of their church as something special, and a tourist attraction, or simply as their home church.  The service created such a soothing atmosphere, and even though we didn’t speak French we pretty much understood what the priest was saying.  Again, religious is pretty universal.

After the Sacre Coeur, we walked around Montemarte for a bit, got the most delicious banana-nutella crepes (so much better than Prague street food, which is basically sausage and fried cheese), and headed towards Moulin Rouge.  Dad wanted to get a picture in front of the famous night theater, but walking there was a bit uncomfortable.  We walked through Paris’ adult entertainment district, with Sara in the group.  She got the whole side of Paris I guess.

 Paris street food dominates Prague street food.  Here I am with a banana-nutella crepe in my mouth.

We took the metro to Rue Saint Germaine, another upscale district with tons to see and lots of cafes and shops.  We ate lunch at Le Bonaparte, a typical French café right off the main strip.  The two cafes we tried going to before were too crowded for six people because it was lunchtime and they were somewhat famous.  Nevertheless, our lunch was good.

We wandered through the area and some side streets.  I didn’t know there could be so many cafes per square mile (or square kilometer if you prefer).  Everywhere I looked, another café or tourist shop, with some real shops mixed in.  I finally found a new scarf to buy, since I need to look trendy when I’m in Europe.  We hopped on the metro to go back to our hotel and get ready for visiting the Eiffel Tower at sunset and then dinner.

The Eiffel Tower was the best thing we could’ve done to wrap up the trip.  Luckily we bought tickets ahead of time, so we got the shorter lines.  But there were definitely lines, as this is the most visited monument in the world (thank you Wikipedia).  There are three floors, plus the ground floor.  As we waited in line for the elevator between the 2^nd and 3^rd floors (the top), we realized we didn’t have to right tickets, so I hopped out of the line (or the “queue”) and quickly bought tickets and hopped back in.  That could've been bad if we went to the front, waited at least a half hour, and were turned back.

As the elevator ascended to the top, Mom and Grandpa couldn’t get over how tall the tower actually was.  Grandpa has a little fear of heights, but it was so tall he said it didn’t bother him because it was like being in an elevator.  From the top, we saw everything.  As it turned dark (no sunset unfortunately, too cloudy), the city lit up.  I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves here.

Answer to trivia:  looking down at the Eiffel Tower's light show.

 From top to bottom:  the Eiffel Tower's searchlight over Paris at night; the Arc de Triumph at night; my brother and sister and I on top of the Eiffel Tower.

Bottom line:  Le Tour Eiffel was great.  Pretty funny story:  as we waited for the second light show to begin, inside the cafe at the Eiffel Tower, my mom was trying to read the menu behind the counter and all the sudden burst out laughing.  Apparently, what was "Croque Mensieur" on the menu appeared to be "Cookie Monster" for a second in her mind, and she couldn't figure out why there was English on the menu.  After that, we headed back towards dinner, also in the same neighborhood.

I’m sure Daniel will post pictures of dinner somewhere on facebook, as he has been photographing every meal on this trip, but we had made a reservation at Le Florimand, recommended to us by the people who owned the apartment we stayed at the first two nights.  We had a late dinner start at 9, but at least my meal was worth the wait.

The restaurant was small, probably only 30-32 people could fit.  They were famous for their stuffed cabbage apparently, and for good reason.  It was fantastic.  I capped the night off with La Fromage, some cheese for dessert.  If our waiter in the Marais was the nicest Parisian ever, the guy at Le Florimand had to have been the second nicest.

My stuffed cabbage (below) was way better than mom's beef (above)

In my opinion, he had every right to be frustrated with the fact that none of us except Sara knew a word of French.  He translated the menu for us, answered any questions, joked with us, and really made our meal comfortable.  The food was good overall except for Mom and Grandpa’s beef, which was a bit tough. 

The place was very Paris, and even though it was relatively upscale it was clearly a neighborhood place, as the waiter (who may have been the owner as well) kissed every other person to walk through the door on both cheeks, with a hug; also, the stuffed cabbage was the chef’s grandmother’s recipe.

That pretty much brings me to the end of Paris (finally, I feel like I’ve wrote a novel here).  I was too tired to go out after dinner, and this morning we just ate at the hotel and then went to the airport.

Okay, I can’t get through a week’s worth of posting about a family vacation without ragging on my family a little bit.  Luckily, they are headed back to the U.S. now so I won’t have to listen to them complain about it, except when my mom undoubtedly BlackBerry Messages (BBMs) me and tells me that I am being mean. 

A BlackBerry is a gift and a curse, as I found out when Mom sent me at least 10 messages Friday night when she couldn’t reach me, because service was bad.  I’m not dead, don’t worry…don’t abuse the BlackBerry.  As for Dad, he proved that the only thing worse than no sense of direction is a bad sense of direction, as he can save patients’ lives but is INEPT at reading maps even though he constantly wants to know where we are going and asked if this was the station were getting off every single station we passed.  And for the record, in Prague, they are called trams, not trolleys.

 Daniel and Sara in our room at the hotel, with Le Tour Eiffel in the background.

Daniel and Sara…I actually don’t have much to complain about for this trip, except Daniel updating me on something Michigan every thirty seconds (what else is new) and Sara, you didn’t use enough French.  Grandpa, I got nothing, you da man (but unfortunately, since you don’t use computers, you won’t ever be able to read this L)

One thing I want to do when I’m abroad is compare the attitudes of the different countries towards America.  So far, I feel like Germans are pretty indifferent but sometimes annoyed, and the French are often annoyed (could just be a Parisian thing) but sometimes really friendly and funny.

That’s all for now.  I’ll leave you with one more cross-cultural thing:  kids are kids.  There is a family sitting near me by the gate with three little ones, and they are running around chasing each other and the parents are obviously frustrated.  No translation necessary.