Lindau Nobel Laureate Meeting 2010—opening ceremony

First of all, allow me to share the view from my bedroom window.  My apartment is right next to the old town hall, and this is what I see when I wake up:

Lucky me!  In fact, that’s how I feel about this whole experience.  I almost can’t believe that I really am here.  On the way to the registration desk, I run into Jose, my fellow Hopkins attendee.  The registration process is a breeze, and we pick up this giant laureate portrait book.  In an email before the conference, we were warned that the book would be heavy.  But 16.5 pounds feel much heavier now that it’s actually in my hands.

  

Jose and I decide on the spot that we would ship these back to the U.S. rather than hauling them by ourselves to Torino, Milan, and Rome.  After putting these away in our hotel rooms, we head out for lunch.  I keep hearing about the amazing dÖner kebaps so we try one from the little shop next to the train station.  I cannot believe that for €3.30, I get this humongous sandwich nearly the size of my head (and I assure you, I have a rather large cranium!). 

Jose and I sit at a bench in front of the harbor to enjoy our lunch.  Birds gather at our feet to eat the crumbs.  They are not afraid of humans at all, even coming to our hands to take food, very cute.  This is the view during lunch:

We have a few hours before the opening ceremony begins, so we explore Lindau on foot, stopping occasionally for beer and ice cream.  On the other side of the island, we run into a family of swans chilling in the shade.  The babies look like fur balls.  Swans.  Did I really just casually run into some swans?

3p.m., it’s time.  The conference center is full of laureates, students, and journalists.  The air is buzzing with excitement.  I soon discover there are royal VIPs among us—Countess Bettina Bernadotte of Sweden, and Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn of Thailand.  At the conference center we find Dr. Peter Agre, who nominated us for this opportunity (thanks a million!!).  Dr. Agre won the Nobel prize in Chemistry in 2003 for his discovery of aquaporin.  How he discovered aquaporin is quite an intriguing story.  Benyam is also here, representing Harvard.

During the ceremony, Countess Bettina speaks elegantly about the history of the Lindau meetings.  She and other speakers bring up the theme of communication and collaboration again and again.  This year’s meeting is the 3rd interdisciplinary meeting, where laureates and students in chemistry, physics, and physiology/medicine are all brought together.  Over 60 countries are represented.  The lectures, discussions, and conversations in the next few days will undoubtedly inspire and motivate us.  In science, when you are studying everything about just one thing, sometimes it’s easy to get lost in the small details and forget the big picture.  A step back and a fresh perspective often brings the best solution—look at the forest not the tree.  My lab is having a brainstorming retreat at the end of July, where each person will present one novel idea on breast cancer therapy.  I hope my fellow researchers, particularly those in chemistry and physics, help me find a cure.

After the ceremony, I have some free time while Benyam and Jose go to a Qiagen meet-and-greet.  I meet Tingting from China, and we chat over a cup of coffee.  She might be going to Stanford soon for postdoc training.  Maybe I will run into her in Palo Alto in the near future.  We explore the island a bit more, and come back to the conference center for dinner.  Oh delicious German food, I can never eat enough of you.

Swans of the edible kind:

The rest of the evening is, of course, devoted to World Cup matches.  Go Germany!

Frankfurt/Lindau—city rhythm and country melody

Bright and early, we set out for Frankfurt.  I experience the autobahn for the first time, it’s exhilarating.  I normally hate driving, but even I would enjoy driving in Germany.  The roads are smooth, and the drivers obey traffic laws—what a novel concept!  The autobahn has no speed limit.  We are in the fast lane, going on average at 200km per hour (125MPH), occasionally going up to the 220 range (that’s almost 140MPH!).  In no time, we make it to Frankfurt.  The city is brimming with pedestrians.  There is a diversity festival going on.  Everywhere we go, music plays loudly.  We go past the city opera to see the stock trading center—supposedly this is the biggest one in the European Union.  Nice place, but it’s got nothing on Wall Street.

Germany is all about preserving historic architecture.  Even in downtown Frankfurt, new buildings can only be added onto, not replace, the centuries-old houses.  The building in the photo below is a perfect example of the extreme measures they are willing to take.  When the city had to construct an underground train station in this spot, they tore down the house but numbered each brick.  Upon completion of the station, they rebuild the house with the original bricks in the exact same order.  Mad props to Germany.

We walk by the newest city galleria, or shopping mall, and I notice something interesting: a giant hole in the wall!

Our stroll takes us to a town square.  This area was destroyed after WWII and later rebuilt to look exactly like it used to.  I suddenly hear loud traditional Chinese music.  Whoah, definitely unexpected.  Turns out this is part of the diversity celebration. 

Finally, we get on the pedestrian bridge on the Main River and cross halfway to admire the city skyline.  After that we stop by a cafe to eat some Frankfurt sausage  and head back to the car.  In comparison to Paris, where there are also large crowds of people on the street, I think the difference is that in Paris, I saw mostly foreign tourists; where as in Frankfurt, most of these people are local residents or tourists from other parts of Germany.  Germans seem to really know how to enjoy life.  I admire their balanced work/play lifestyle.  Of course it’s easier to achieve that balance when you are blessed with beautiful weather and awesome beer everywhere you go.  I can see myself living in Germany happily—this, in my book, is one of the highest compliments for a country!

  

Karen and her husband drop me off at the train station.  I thank them profusely for being such gracious hosts and showing me the best of Aschaffenburg and Frankfurt.  I hope they will visit me, so I can show them the best of Baltimore… on second thought, scratch that, we’ll go to DC.

Onward to Lindau I go! What do you know, the train is late again.  This time, I only have 6 minutes to transition to the second train at Ulm.  I get in at 6:15, I curse a little under my breath, preparing for the second train, scheduled to leave at 6:12, to be already gone.  Luckily, it’s still there!  I sprint (ok, maybe it’s more like a jog, by now my luggage has gotten heavier) to the train and as soon as I get on, doors close and the train starts moving.  Whew.  I think my expectations for German trains were too high.  I’ve heard too many people boast that the trains here are ALWAYS on time, like on-the-dot on time.  I just have to realize that yes, in general they are punctual, but they are people not robots, so a ±5 minute is forgivable.

I reach Lindau just past 8p.m.  The walk to my apartment is easy.  When I get here, I don’t see the landlady.  She is supposed to meet me here to give me the key—we arranged it 2 months ago.  Uh oh, this is another classic Grace mistake—scheduling something weeks or months in advance without a confirmation the day before.  Fortunately I run into one of the media coordinators for the conference (forgive me if you read this, I don’t know how to spell your fancy European name), who helped me call the landlady.  In a few minutes she arrives and shows me the apartment.  She tells me that until my roommate arrives the next day, I am all on my own.  The rest of this building are business offices, which don’t open on Sundays.  She bids me goodbye but promises to come back the next morning to bring me a map. 

After she leaves, I unpack a bit and hop in the shower.  Literarily, as soon as I start to soap myself, I hear a knock on the door.  I completely freak out—ohmygawwwwwd, I thought there is no one else here, who is it how did they even get in the building?  I panic and don’t know what to do next.  Should I ignore it?  Oh, can’t, this person continues to knock.  Should I get dressed first?  Well, that takes at least 10 minutes since I have to dry off first.  So of course I do what in my mind is the most reasonable thing—wrap myself up in a towel and go answer the door.  Why I thought this is a good idea at the time is beyond me.  Had this been a bad person, how would I defend myself?  With my bare hands?  Alas, I am not Chuck Norris.  Fortunately, it’s my landlady dropping off the map. 

I finish my shower in peace, and head out to find dinner.  For a small island town, there sure are a lot of Asian cuisine choices: Thai, Chinese, Japanese.  I choose an Italian restaurant because they are playing the US-Ghana game on a projector.  The food is good, but the game not so much.  After dinner I go on a stroll by myself.  There is a live music performance by the harbor, but for the rest of the island, darkness has brought silence.  Under night sky, tranquility permeates the air. 

 

I stop by the harbor one more time to get a picture of the light house—the symbol of Lindau.  The moon is up, its reflection dances and sparkles on the water. 

I head back to the apartment to get some sleep.  Tomorrow is going to be a good day.

Aschaffenburg—living in a fairy tale

Karen and I begin our day in Aschaffenburg the proper way—in a pastry shop.  Why are baked goods in Europe so much superior to those in the U.S.?  The coffee too—it comes out of a do-it-yourself machine, but tastes 1000x better than Starbucks.  Germans like to use apples in their desserts, by the way, and that is what those slices are.

We arrive at the Schloss Johannisburg castle by 9a.m., and take a quick tour through it.  The place is huge.  We both think that it might be a pain to actually live here—it would take 20 minutes just to get out of the house!  Supposedly Napoleon lived here for a while, though the interior decorations are not nearly as fancy schmancy as his apartment at the Lourve.  We rush through the museum.  Having recently seen so many famous masterpieces, I feel that it’s ok to browse the paintings here quickly.  An hour later, we make it out of the castle and walk around and visit the garden nearby.  I think this castle’s exterior is its best feature.

Next up on the agenda: shopping.  Don’t judge, it’s just a girl thing.  Anyway, we get some really great deals, including shirts that cost only 4.90 euro.  YES!  When we are tired, we sit at a sidewalk cafe for some beverages.  So what if it’s barely noon?  I order a beer and tell myself this is Germany where beer never stops flowing.  Besides, it’s grapefruit flavored, that makes it almost a soda.

We then visit two Catholic cathedrals: Stiftskirche and Sandgasse.  Though modest in size, both are elaborately decorated.  Karen tells me that in Germany, those who belong to a church have offering/tithes directly taken out of their pay checks and deposited into the church’s bank account, almost like a tax. 

We stroll around town.  It’s striking to me how many incredibly cute houses there are.  As an added bonus, there are beer gardens tucked between these houses on just about every other block.  I can’t help but think that life here must feel like a fairy tale come true.  I mean really, look at this:

There is a folk festival in town for a few more days—kind of like a carnival.  We eat a hearty lunch (I had this pork and onion dish in a tomato-based sauce) at the festival food stands, then go on a haunted house ride.  Then I remember, I kind of hate haunted houses because I get really scared and scream super loudly.  After that, the only way to comfort ourselves was another trip to a beer garden.

Feeling better, we head back to Karen’s house.  Karen and I work on a craft project creating collectible post stamp cards while her husband works his magic in the kitchen again.  German food is amazing.  Today we eat inderrouladen--beef rolls with bacon and onions inside, slowly simmered for over 2 hours. Dinner is served with beer from a 300-year-old bavarian brewery.  Again, the Germans know how to eat.  I eat and eat and eat until I almost feel sickly full. 

Oh did I mention that Karen taught me how to make tiramisu and we had some before dinner? 

What a relaxing lifestyle.  Germany, I think I love you.

Guten Tag from Germany—wow the Germans really know how to eat!

Remember when I marveled that German trains are ALWAYS on time?  Ok, not completely true.  As soon as I finish writing the last entry, the announcer says something about the train being delayed.  I can hardly understand her English over the intercom, so I don’t know why.  By the time my train gets into Frankfurt, it is 5:33p.  My connecting train to Aschaffenburg is supposed to leave at 5:34p.  Lucky for me, I encounter not one but TWO rare delays in Germany, and make it to the next train with a minute to spare (picture time!).  Whew. 

On the regional train, I immediately notice that Germans dress much more conservatively than the French, especially the men.  Gone are the tight pants marking every contour of well… everything, and tight pastel v-neck shirts.  Here the outfit of choice seems to be khakis pants and a button up shirt—short sleeved for the summer months.  I get to Aschaffenburg, my friend Karen is already waiting there with her husband.  We hop in the car and drive to their house.  On the way, the rolling green hills remind of the Oregon coast. 

Before going to their house, we stop by a supermarket to pick up a few more ingredients for dinner, and to my surprise, an ice cream/coffee shop.  MmmmMmmmm.  I wolf down a dessert that has espresso poured over ice cream.  There’s something crunchy in it too. I don’t know what it is and can’t remember the name, but it’s amazing.  My constant desire to take pictures of EVERYTHING is embarrassing.  But come on, I AM an Asian tourist, so I succumb to the urge.

We get to their house.  It sits at the foot of a hill with a patch of woods behind.  I hear birds chirping.  The air smells so fresh and clean.  Karen’s husband goes off to the kitchen to prepare an authentic German dinner, while Karen shows me her fascinating hobby of post card collection.  I finally understand what she was asking for in a post card from Paris.  Alas, I didn’t get it right. 

Soon, dinner is ready.  We eat in their backyard.  The sun is setting, a small breeze chills the air, yet the brick patio under our feet is warm from being in the sun all day.  Everything smells amazing.  The asparagus is huge—it must be a different variety than what I’ve seen in the U.S.  And the meat—ostrich steak.  Wow.  We toast to friendship with delicious wine from Milan, and the feast begins!  The Asparagus is served with a generous serving of Hollandaise sauce, and the steak, I’m pretty sure, is cooked with a touch of magic.  Everything tastes amazing—I am salivating as I write this.  At the end of the meal, I use bread to soak up the sauces from the plate and eat every last drop.  Karen is quite the chef herself, but she is one lucky girl to have a husband blessed with culinary talent.

After dinner, Karen teaches me how to make tiramisu.  She is great at baking, and even better at teaching.  I hand-beat the egg whites for the full experience.  I wish I had taken photos of each step, but making tiramisu requires my total attention.  Here is the almost-finished product.  After refrigerating overnight, we will add cocoa powder before serving it for dinner tomorrow. 

We’ll be touring Aschaffenburg tomorrow, known as “Bavarian Nice” for its mild climate.  Ah yes, bring it on, vacation, I am ready for you!

Paris Day 3—lasting impressions

For my last half-day in Paris, I am visiting Montmartre for a walking tour.  I wake up later than planned—staying up into the wee hours blogging has taken a toll.  I blog with total dedication—if you are gonna do it, you gotta do it right. 

I arrive at Anvers metro station at 9:30a, Nina is already waiting for me.  She is wearing a black top with the most adorable Parisian skirt.  I, on the other hand, being much more conservative in my choice of clothing, wore a boring one-color dress.  We head up the hilly streets of Montmartre toward Basilique du Sacre-Coeur.  After a few minutes, the stark white basilica peaks out from behind lush foliage.  The Sacre-Coeur, along with other white residential buildings and shops lining the winding cobble stone roads, makes Montmartre sparkle in the sunlight.  Atop the Notre-Dame yesterday, I could easily point it out without having visited here. 

We continue upward, jumping away from aggressive merchants trying to sell us bracelets (one man actually grabs Nina’s wrist to put one on her…yeesh, good thing she reacts quickly).  At the base of the basilica, we snap a photo in front of the beautiful fountains, then turn around to admire the panoramic view of Paris.  Nina points out several landmarks:  Le Centre Pompidou, Arc de Triomphe, Hotel de Ville… I recognize them too—how exciting!

We then take a quick tour inside the basilica.  No photography allowed here, so we stop by the gift shop and I purchase a prayer card with some of the paintings printed on it.  For the rest of the time, we stroll leisurely in the neighborhoods.  Today is very relaxing, especially in this area away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Paris.  Montmartre is known for its street artists.  We also see tons of outdoor cafes.  I wonder what it’s like to live here.  Do the residents here need vacations when their lives are so relaxing 24-7?

The area is small, but the roads are not on a grid system.  We try to find the Dali museum but lose our way.  I snap photos like a madwoman, trying to capture the beauty of Paris for my own record.

I’m traveling to Germany in the afternoon, and Nina kindly offers to take me to the train station.  For that I am very grateful—my ticket is in German and train info at the station are in French.  But of course we stop by a bakery first for more croissants.  We chit chat at the station for a while—she has lots of funny stories, the conversation flows so easily.  Then it was time to say goodbye.  I invite Nina and her husband to visit me in the U.S., and I hope they do.  They definitely don’t have Mama Mia or Popeye’s in Paris.  I wonder if they would be appalled by the unhealthy food that Americans love so much.

Nina and I hug one more time.  I hope I see her again soon.  German trains really do run on time.  At 13:09, the train promptly begins moving.  I am sad to leave Paris so soon, but excited for the next part of my journey.  Frankfurt, look out, you’ve got tough competition in vying to be my most favorite city. 

Farewell, Paris, I hope to come back soon!

Paris Day 2—these lights will inspire you

Day 2, I wake up without an alarm.  It feels great. I throw on my new dress that I bought yesterday and head downstairs for a large breakfast of 3 croissants and 2 cups of coffee.  All the walking has turned my metabolism into that of a hippo.  Today, I am all on my own, as Nina is busy taking her driving lesson.  For the most part, I fare ok.  But asking strangers to take pictures of me is quite tricky.  Everyone is willing, but few are skilled.  I try to stick to those carrying obscenely large DSLRs, they seem to know what they are doing.

My first stop is Hotel de Ville—Paris City Hall.  It’s big.  Impressive.  Certainly the best of city halls I’ve seen.  I wonder what goes on in the minds of city employees when then go to work each morning.  Do they know how lucky they are to be in such a marvelous environment?

Next I head to Notre-Dame, a majestic cathedral sitting on the Seine river bank.  The line to go inside is long, but it’s sunny with a breeze, so I don’t mind reading Frommer’s while waiting, and once in a while looking up to admire the detailed artwork on the stone walls. 

An hour later, I start to feel it was a mistake not going to the bathroom first.  Finally, after 90 minutes of standing in line, I reach the entrance and receive a visitor’s guide.  Oh, “no bathrooms inside.”  Friends, learn from my mistake.  On the climb to the top, the narrow spiral stone staircase reminds me that the cathedral is nearly 800 years old.  The steps are steep and uneven.  Upon reaching the chimera gallery, my legs feel weak.  Atop the cathedral, the view of Paris is magnificent.  On a clear day like this, one can easily point out the most recognizable landmarks of the city.  A number of gargoyles line the edges of the roof.  These mythical creatures are truly works of art.  Their bodies engage in different activities, and their faces are expressive.  The most famous one, “stryga,” seems to be in deep thought while looking into the distance, as if he is guarding the city.

The 13-ton Great Bell, named Emmanuel, and made famous by Victor Hugo’s Quasimodo, hangs in the South Tower.  Speaking of bells, has anyone seen the Liberty Bell—our proud symbol of American freedom?  That tiny little thing had a crack since day 1, and was only rung once ever… Whereas Emmanuel was cast in the 17th century and is operational to this date. 

Back to the gargoyles…this one is eating grapes!! And one more photo of the view.

 

Inside the cathedral, religious music is playing softly.  I try to figure out what the flying buttresses are, but cannot figure it out.  The place feels peaceful, calming, and holy.  I sit in the worship area for a while, soaking in the serenity.  In the darkness, candle flames dance, and light from outside shines through the rose windows.  Beautiful.

In the garden behind the cathedral, there is an outdoor concert.  I sit in the shade and catch up on post card writing while enjoying the music, and then eat a yummy egg and cheese crepe.  Yes, life is wonderful.

 

For the rest of the afternoon, I stroll along the Seine River heading west, stopping at small shops here and there to look at all the things I want to buy but can’t because they are too heavy.  Alas. 

By 6p.m. I reach Musee du Lourve.  I immediately go see the two most famous ladies of the Lourve, Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo.  Both galleries are full of huge crowds.  It’s hard to get close for a photo, but I manage.

While admiring the Mona Lisa, a Canadian gentleman chats me up.  A few more paintings later, he invites me to dinner.  Flattering, but obviously I politely decline for safety reasons.  Plus he said the Mona Lisa was unimpressive.  Ugh, no one disses my girl Mona like that ok?  Another personal favorite of mine is the Winged Victory.  Headless, but proudly standing near the entrance to the Denon gallery.

The Lourve is huge and overwhelming, and displays extraordinary art pieces and exquisite material possessions.  Every corner I turn, there is another world famous masterpiece.  And the pinnacle of wealth is displayed in Napoleon’s apartment.  I am reminded of the Chinese term, 富丽堂皇, which rolls wealth, beauty, and class/royalty all into one word.  By this time, my camera is running low on power, so I don’t have many photos.  Here is a hallway from Napoleon’s crib.

At 9p.m., my feet can hardly move another step, I want to leave.  But Mona Lisa calls me back to her.  This time, the crowd has thinned out.  I spend 25 minutes with her.  In the gallery where she resides, there are huge and elaborate paintings.  In fact, she is one of the smallest paintings in the room.  But this lady gets her own wall and commands attention like no other.  I walk back and forth, making a half circle in front of her.  Her eyes follow me.  Her clothes are simple, yet something about her posture exudes elegance.  And her smile—one of the biggest mysteries of the art world—she seems to be hiding something behind that smile.  I can’t figure it out.  We stare at each other until the guards clear out the room.  She is still smiling, I smile back.  If she were real and my contemporary, perhaps we could be good girlfriends.

By now it’s 10p.m. and getting dark.  Though I’d like to see the Eiffel Tower at night, my feet simply would not allow it.  I head back and get dinner at the same neighborhood restaurant.  Tonight I try the green pea soup and pork dish.  Again, delicious. 

At the end of my second day in Paris, I am even more grateful to be here.  The culture here is so rich—full of inspirations.  I can’t wait to return for another visit.

Bonjour from Paris – what they say about the French is only half true

I fly into CDG at 8a.m., excited and scared.  Excited because I’ve always wanted to see Paris and I finally get the chance; scared because my French vocabulary consists of two words—“bonjour” and “merci.”  Weeks ago, I signed up for a French travel crash course, but never had the time to do it.  So here I am, thrown into a foreign land not speaking a word of its language—the last time I had to do this, I was only 13, and I didn’t have to navigate to the hotel by myself!

Going through customs took only 5 minutes.  Is this for real?  I check the stamp on my passport again and realize that I really am in France!  I approach the train ticket office with some hesitation.  Many have said that the French are snobbish about speaking French and only French.  But I am immediately put at ease by a young woman with a warm smile.  I point out on a map where I want to go, because embarrassingly, I can’t pronounce the name of the station.  Fortunately, her English is fluent and she’s more than willing to speak it. 

I reach my hotel by 10, an hour ahead of schedule.  Since I planned to meet my Parisian friend, Nina, at the metro station near my hotel at 11, I decide to check out the neighborhood.  I walk by a cute flower shop, sip on a cup of cafe au lait while reading a travel guide.  Then for my walk to the metro, I grab a croissant from the unassuming corner bakery though I ate breakfast not long ago.  As soon as I finish the croissant, I realize it was a mistake not buying 3.  Slightly crispy on the outside, light fluffy and buttery on the inside—it was heavenly!  Already, my day is going splendidly well.  Of course the weather is perfect too, sunny in the 70s with few clouds.

I meet up with Nina, and we head out to do all the touristy things.  First stop: Eiffel Tower.  And it is magnificent.  We walk all the way around and take many photos from many angles.  There it is, THE symbol of Paris, sitting against a backdrop of perfectly blue skies.  The wait to climb up the tower is over an hour, so I opt to do it tomorrow. 

Next, we metro over to the Arc de Triomphe.  There it is, amidst busy traffic, a tribute to triumph standing tall and proud since Napoleon’s days.  As we walk around it, I spot a hot orange Lamborghini driving by—what a blend of the ancient and the modern.

 

We stroll along the Champs Elysses, passing many posh stores, and eventually reach Musee du Louvre.  It’s closed on Tuesdays, but of course the gallery halls from the outside are architectural wonders entirely on their own.  And if you’ve read Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code, the pyramids are even more fascinating.

 

Our leisurely stroll continues eastward and ends at Le Centre Pompidou, a museum of modern art. We rest our tired feet (7 hours of walking!) in a cute gelato shop nearby.

 

We get ready to head back to my hotel.  But of course I first stop by a shop and pick up a cute dress—I AM in Paris, it’s practically a required activity in this fashion mecca.  Back at the hotel, Nina and I rehydrate and chat about all kinds of things—living, laughing, loving… (harharhar, title of my blog, get it?) Suddenly we realize the sun is setting, and it’s nearly 10p.m.!  Sadly Nina must head back home.  I walk her to the metro stop, then stop by the restaurant half a block from my hotel. 

It’s a cute little place that offers a set menu.  I walk in and am greeted by an enthusiastic waiter, who insists to seat me in the center of the restaurant at a table set for 6.  Looking around, I see a party of 10 friends, and a few tables of couples scattered around the restaurant.  Can I just hide in a corner?  I plead. No no, he insists that I sit at this large and comfortable table.  Ok—party of one in the city of love, I can do this.  I order my items per Nina’s suggestion: ratatouille glacee et ceuf poche, and pave de saumon roti au miel, with a glass of chardonnay.  The appetizer ratatouille comes quickly with an entire basket of assorted breads—wow, so generous!  I love bread and always feel a bit embarrassed when I have to ask for more.  Now I can eat to my heart’s carbohydrate content.  The ratatouille is served cold, to my surprise, but has a wonderful flavor to it.  Then the salmon comes, and I am pleasantly surprised!  For a little restaurant tucked away from the glitzy parts of Paris, I expected so-so food.  But this salmon—it melts in my mouth, and is delicately flavored.  The fish tastes very fresh.  A hint of sweetness compliments the savory couscous.  I am impressed!  My total bill comes to only 15 euros.  Even more amazing!

 

With a satisfied and happy belly, I end my first day in Paris with total admiration for this city full of culture, history, fashion, amazing cuisine, and yes, really nice people.

I’m allowed one gripe—the shower in my room is incredibly small.  I have to crouch down to fit under the shower head, and keep bumping into the faucet handle, causing the water to go from incredibly hot to extremely cold one minute to the next.  I feel like an ogre, but a clean ogre. 

I can’t wait to discover more of this city on day 2.  Stay tuned!