parisian secrets

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On our very first night in Paris- not the one that followed our first full day of walking, but the one that happened right after we deplaned- we made friends.

After a visit to my old stomping grounds, we took our fresh fruit finds to the Canal St. Martin to fulfill a nutella-flavored dream I’d been having since my last visit to Paris.  We gathered up some good goods (camembert, baguette, wine) and found a spot along the canal.  After settling in, all ready to get our picnic on, we were halted by the sad, sad, realization that…we had forgotten our wine opener.

In a sudden burst of energy that must’ve been a combination of resourcefulness, jetlag, and wine desperation, I decided to as the bobo-looking Parisians next to us if we could make use of their corkscrew, s’il vous plaît.  They were gracious toward my broken Frenglish, and even helped me pop the top.

A while later, full of cheese and ready to tuck ourselves in for the night, we stood to leave the canal, turning to give a wave and a nod to our wine heroes.  Instead of the half-smile one might’ve expected (if you’ve spent your life in America, perhaps), the strangers called out to us.

“Where do you come from?”  They wafted the air in front of them, pulling us in.

“Les Etats-Unis!  Boston.”  We were met with hugs.

The friendly pair asked us about everything.  What were our travel plans?  Were we married?  In love?  You look very much in love.  How could you not love this guy though?  He is looking into my eyes right now I think I feel myself, comment dit…melting!  They hugged us a few more times (actually, M got a few double cheek kisses from the man who was surely falling for him), and sent us off with a list of insider recommendations jotted on the backside of my boarding pass.

“You must know what you’re doing already, though,” the woman winked at me. “Parisians  try to keep this place a secret.”

un moment a montmartre

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On our last Friday in Paris, Tegan, Melissa and I headed to the 18th Arrondissement to take a walk around the Montmartre area.  We decided to get the full experience by eating at the Amelie café, 2 Moulins, stopping in at one of those crazy sex shops that line Boulevard de Clichy, and climbing the many steps up to the Basilica de Sacre Coeur, a beautiful Roman Catholic church whose majestic location on a hill in the heart of Paris offers a panoramic view of the city.

On our way to the Amelie cafe, 2 Moulins, we spotted a thousand dingus souvenir shops and actually decided to enter one, which turned out to be a fruitful endeavor…finally got myself a silly J’adore Paris t-shirt (pause for jokes at my expense…come on, bring ’em on)!  After some yummy salads at the café, it was time to climb up the hill to Sacre Coeur Basilica.  Seeing Paris from the top was absolutely incroyable, but watching a man bounce a soccer ball between his feet on a stone pillar over the edge of the Sacre Coeur steps then swirl it on a pen in his mouth as he climbed up a lamp post and contorted into crazy positions, kiiiind of stole the show.  After the street performance, we sat on the steps and munched on some delicious and interesting chocolate concoctions we’d mixed up into a self-serve bag at one of Paris’ infamous chocolatiers while gazing out at the city and finding all of the landmarks we had already visited.  “Look there’s Pompidou!  Is that Notre Dame?  I spy La Tour Eiffel over here!”  So. Good.

That was about all we had time for on the busy Friday before heading back from some wine, dinner, and a night out on the town.  Wishing you all a happy Wednesday as I head of to Physical Therapy- back to the grind!