Being a Tourist. Part 3. "Day at the Museum"

Yesterday was Alice's last full day in Paris... She just left this morning. SO upsetting... although, we did have an amazing past few days being 100% tourist. These are a few pictures from yesterday's really busy itinerary as we tried to live it up one more time.


We dragged ourselves out of bed, and headed down the street to the Mosquée de Paris, the muslim temple. There's a beautiful garden oasis in the courtyard and a tea saloon in the back. For a fixed price, one can also use the hammam (Turkish baths), get a massage, smoke hookah, and finish with peppermint tea and middle eastern snacks.


There's still some snow in the courtyard, but it still looks charming.


We found the tea saloon, which had breathtaking moroccan décor.


The ceiling with the lamps.


A warm cup of peppermint tea really hit the spot.


We were transported to Morocco.


Detail on the ceiling.


Sleepy from waking up so early... but ready for the day!

We started walking towards the Seine and crossed to the Right Bank... that's Notre-Dame in the background.


Ended up at a La Perla, an amazing Mexican bistrot, for a quick lunch... Quesadilla with freshly made guacamole.


The plat was spiced chicken, mexican salad, and rice.


After that, we wandered over to the Louvre... Day at the Museum begins...


We stumbled upon the Egyptian exhibits, probably my favorite part.


EGYPTIAN JEWELRY.


Necklaces, pins, rings, bangles fit for Cleo.


Unbelievable detail on the charm bracelets. The first one from the bottom has fish and lizards on it.


Bracelets made of gold and ceramic beads.


More gold... I want...

18th Century panel paintings. It made me think of something Marie Antoinette would have in her dressing room.


I'm resting my tired feet from all this walking...


It looked like a delicious breakfast... Beignets, muffins, apples, and a glass of milk.


It's a painting of the Louvre, within the Louvre...


Cherry red wall.


Haha catchy signs.


We left the Louvre and attempted to visit Père la Chaise but zut, it was closed due to the ice and snow. Instead, we hopped on a bus and ended back on Rue Mouffetard for some Chrismas shopping before dinner.


Can you spot me? ha


The whole street and square are decked out in Christmas lights.


We stopped at Jeff de Bruges for some fancy chocolates.


Alice checks out some goods for her Dad.


Death by chocolate. The store smelled like heaven.


Gold-wrapped truffles...


Salavating right now.


Chocolates wrapped up like Christmas presents.


After shopping around, we went back to "freshen up" (lol) before taking the metro to Café du Marché, our number one, favorite brasserie near the Eiffel Tower.


Here's us at a cozy little table, black-and-white style.

The best thing about this place is that the food is good AND inexpensive. I think it's one of Paris' best kept secrets and I would never have found it if Roger, a fam friend, introduced it to me.


A glass of wine with dinner is perfection, though we were already giddy from our champagne-vodka appéro's.


I decided to keep it all-American and get "le cheeseburger" since I'm staying here for another month.


Alice : Confit de canard. We had this before, and it became her obsession to get it one more time before she left.


After dinner, we made it over to Oberkampf for a Christmas party of a friend. We ate, drank, and made merry before calling it a night.

What a last day!! I miss Alice already, but Im determined to make the most of the rest of my time in Paris... Updates to follow...

Being a Tourist. Part 2. "Hanging with Hemmingway."

The answer : yes.

Yes, Shakespeare and Company is all that : floor-to-ceiling shelves, stuffed with reading material. There are old books in between new ones; childrens' books; archived copies of The Economist and other magazines; classics; plump armchairs; and best of all, the feeling of being in the same place where great writers also cracked open a book, lounged around, or wrote a note. It was a good decade to be in Paris...



The top floor of Shakespeare & Co. had a drawing of Alice and Wonderland on the wall.




Alice writing a note to post on the wall.


A wall of notes, photos, confessions...


Ditto.




A love letter / fan mail to Hemmingway?


I'm sitting on the childrens' velvet-covered nook, curled up with a good read.


Wall of notes in the childrens' nook.


There's an actual typewriter you can use... "Why, yes.. let's see how will I begin my next sonnet?"


Alice composes the next great American classic.


Well, that was quick. She titled it America the Beautiful. You would.

Will be making many more trips here... it's packed on a Saturday night! Folks reading everywhere...

Being a Tourist. Part 1. "Let Them Eat Cake... Versailles Day-trip"

Today was my roommate's second-to-last day in Paris before she leaves for the US... It's so bummer. This week has been full of sendoff's and awkward good-bye's. Instead of moping around the apartment, we decided to take full advantage of this city and squeeze out it's last drops of "connaissance." So with that carpe diem attitude, we set off for our "Being a Tourist" adventure... Part 1 : Versailles Day-trip!



It was off to the metro, around 1.00pm to get to the RER train. I never really wanted to see the frivolousness of the Versailles castle... but Alice convinced me the town was pretty "quaint" for just wandering around in... Here she is in an impersonation of her favorite Bon Marché advertisement.



Gah... Two more minutes until the metro. I will miss this handy piece of technology. NYC subways need an upgrade.


Waiting around for the RER train... I promise I did not decide to look like a geisha today. There's a weird flash thing going on here.


Versailles rives-gauche here we come! 1.30pm.

We stopped for a quick lunch at a chinese delicatessen. Yum... The hot jasmine tea did wonders for such a freezing day.


Typical artsy fartsy looking gallery.


I devour those macarooooooons.


Impromptu Sartorialist-style fashion shoot in a cool-looking alley.


We spotted the gold gates of Versailles! "Is that real gold?!"


Alice's sexy profile. Yes, it was mighty chilly today... Look at all the snow! "Ahh yess eeet ees so rare in pareee." "Seriously?"


Photography skillz... look at the seagull I captured!


The gates of Versailles.


So important looking.


We caught a breathtaking sunset over the Versailles gardens.


Moi and the gardens... all covered in snow!


I spotted the Sun King...


Winter wonderland...


We popped a bottle of bubbly, and headed back into town.

Perfect day :)

First snowfall in Paris

Pheuf. I just finished my last final exam... I nearly missed it; my roommate and I both woke up 15 minutes before the test was supposed to begin. To make things worse, we looked outside to see Paris' first snowfall...

I have one more class today, and I can't bear the thought of dragging myself out into the slushy streets again (I already wiped out in front of a group of tourists this afternoon). I'm cozied up in bed, and I just want to eat soup and watch funky guidos and guidettes on the Jersey Shore. HAHA.

Momentary Interests ...

I'm kind of obsessed with glass / clear / see-through lamps. It's like a light bulb, screwed onto a light bulb. Isn't that cool? Ya? This one is from Ikea.




No words needed. NEED NOT WANT.



So comfy.



Katy Perry - Actually, I just watched a few clips of a live show she did on MTV, and was shocked to learn about her background and mad skillz. This girl can really bust out some soulful notes. She's here in Sonia Rykiel, one of my favorite Paris designers... Rykiel actually just did a lingerie line for H+M...


Lust - Oscar de la Renta chandelier earrings. Probably worth more than my college tuition.



A few street looks that I'm digging.



Must find these tights.

Five euros and antique china

"Five euros!" I yelled, in French. The crowd turned around and looked at me with interest, as I was promptly handed a ticket stub. Moments later, I was the proud owner of an 18th century collection of blue and white china.

Aaand that was my first auction!

My grammar class today took a trip to one of Paris' auction houses, called le Drouot. I was grumbling the whole time because I had to wake up early on a Saturday morning and listen to a random lady lecture about antiques. Between bites of fig cake and sips of café crème, I complained about how I thought auctions were sad and capitalistic.

Of course, that all changed until I saw explositions of vintage Hermès bags and scarves, as well as cases and cases of blinged out jewelry lying on black velvet. As I drooled over one exquisite statement necklace, probably worth my life, one of the clerks asked if I would like to try it on. My jaw dropped to the floor. She opened the glass case, carefully took out the necklace, and fastened it around my neck. Oh, the necklace? Precious stones, gold, and pearls that went down past my navel. The weight of it felt like I would have a permanent hunchback after wearing it. I was in bling-bling heaven...

Yeah, it was probably the most expensive piece of jewelry I have ever worn. I had my 2 minutes of fame, then back it went into its spot on the black velvet, in the locked glass case.

After ooh-ing and ahh-ing at some more expensive things, we finally made our way to one of the auctions taking place. It was JAM PACKED. As the crowd whispered to themselves, an eldery man with snow-white hair was pounding a gavel, crying out, "20 euros, 20 euros... 30 euros, any one for 30 euros?" The prices were ridiculously decent. We were in shock. What surprised me was that so many antiques were being auctioned off at dirt-cheap prices. Not only that, but they sold them by the CRATE. They showed us crates and crates of random bric-a-brac, paintings, records, books, vases, pottery... A few of my friends were wondering if we should join in on the auction... and before I knew it... they were showing a crate for 5 euros, with pretty Dutch china, and a cloud went around my head : I saw myself raising my hand and yelling out a number, as all my classmates and friends turned and looked at me. I had just bought an entire collection of antique china for 5 euros. FIVE EUROS.

I left the auction with a huge bubble-wrapped bag, as my friends patted my back. "Chrys, that was... unbelievable... You just bought something at a French auction... I wish I did that.. that was, wait, that was so spontaneous."

I just stared at my new things. "But. How am I going to bring an entire collection of antique china all the way back to New York?"

Story to be continued...

Gypsy?

My roommate got me the scarf with the gold sheen in Prague! The other one is my own.

OH, France

Today was a very frustrating day. As well as Yesterday. And the day before that. This whole week. You know what : make that the whole semester! Of course, it's not frustrating every minute of the day, but there are definitely moments when you want to tear your hair out and howl, "MERDE!"

For example, you don't just TAKE the metro.

You have to - first - walk down those six flights of stairs because OH: someone is working on the elevator and neglected to put up a sign. So, you wait for maybe 20 minutes for the elevator... that never arrives. Brushing it off, you climb down the stairs into the street. Now you must get to the metro station. After crossing a number of paths (because every street in Paris is winding, curving, or crooked) you almost get run over by a SmartCar because pedestrian traffic lights give no warning when changing from green to red. Awesome.

After that, the middle-aged lady with her baby stroller that always seems to appear on-the-dot when you're in a rush, pops out of thin air. As well as a crowd of really. really. slow-walkers. I get that I'm a rush rush New Yorker at heart, but come on, Parisians have to be the most absent-minded slothy walkers in the universe.

After finally making it into the metro station, and untangling your metro pass from the mess of your purse, you realize that the metro train is arriving. MERDE! You spring through the crowds of old women and slow Parisians, and as you aproach the shutting doors, some mec (dude) gets in your way. WHAT THE POUTAIN, you curse. As all the Parisians aboard the train give you a pitying (pitiful?) look as they ride away, you see a stupid French thirty-something give you a scathing look for raising your voice above a whisper. You plop down on a bench, and as if on cue, a young Parisian couple throw themselves next to you and start making out, soft porn style.

Finally reaching your desired metro station, you need to change to another line (because no metro line in Paris travels in a logical uptown-downtown, crosstown direction). You are confronted with police who inform you that the line is down and that you need to Prahlagrelignesilvousplay!!! Huh? Quoi? After getting a few stares because they think you are mentally challenged, you walk feebly away. Not knowin what to do. Being swept along a crowd, you follow them to "legreligne" that the police was talking about before. Ok, fine. This will work. For now...

And that's called "Taking the metro."

OH, France.