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!