Paris, Île-de-France, France
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Paris was one of many destinations on a wandering trip. My best friend Jenny, her sister, her friend and myself all took part on this adventure. We were all set to meet early in the morning, however due to faulty planning this didn’t happen until much later in the day. Jenny and I arrived first and went to take in some local flavor, and tasty morsels at a neighboring cafe. Jenny and I were staying at the hotel le eiffel, at the end of the street there were many great smells and beautiful stores to back them up. We situated ourselves into a little cafe and ate some pasta with ham and raw quail eggs, and swished it back with some coffees. After wandering around cobblestone streets and a fair amount of people watching evening swarmed and we were off to the eiffel tower for some real Parisian imagery. We were not at the tourist trap for more than a minute when I met a older gentleman Salim. He asked us for dinner and drinks, we of course agreed, we were on a budget after all. The other girls met up with us and after a dinner of thin flank steaks, french fries, and a few bottles of wine we were off scouring the city for some nightlife.It was impossible for me to concentrate on the old Turkish man sitting next to me when there was a undeniable bevy of statuesque young men around me dancing and gyrating to the electronic music. I was constantly running away and trying to dance with some jaw dropper. Jenny and I try to have a productive day and head out early. We went to the hotel invalids and the huge cobblestone terrace wrecked havoc on our calves, there is a reason tourists don’t wear heels. Napoleons tomb is magnificent, and the feeling one gets when being in the same room as such a unique historical figure is all the more reason to go. For being such a little man the casket is much larger than one might expect, perhaps he is buried with his hat too. We take time to stroll around the Seine and all of the little shops selling books, beautiful postcards of naked women, and hand painted images of
Paris. The Musee d’orsay was calling our name, so we lingered in the basque of old delights. The museum is architecturally profound, open, airy, and home to some of the most amazing works of art in the world.I caught the eye of another work of art, the door man, and we made quick friends. His name was Nelson and he wanted to take me out that night. Perfect. En route to the hotel Jenny and I took a lackadaisical stroll down Champs-Elysées and dreamed about the money we wish we had to spend of expensive French designer goods, or even an apartment above complete with balcony so we could watch the busy elegant street all day long. The four of us meet Nelson at a small chinese restaurant and then head to the Lizard lounge, but Nelson pronounces it “leeezard” it’s a cute little spot, upstairs or down, has colorful lighting and witty names for tropical drinks. There wasn’t many men there, and the girls were interested in that aspect of french culture, I brought my own. Nelson suggests a place called “Cab” short for cabaret. This place is swarming with men, and women, great electronic music and expensive drinks. Cab has a bit of a dingy feel to it, being that it is in a basement, and it’s dark and somewhat mysterious, it’s exactly the kind of place you want to have some jaded affair at. The girls find significant others for the night, and I ditch with Nelson. He tells me he has port and chocolate at his house, if I’m interested. I was, but I really wanted to see what a french apartment looks like. Nelsons place in the 15th androsment is very small, it’s what Americans call a studio, but much more expensive and he owns it rather than rents. The wine we drink is some he brought back form visiting his parents in Portugal. I fall in love in
Paris. When I leave Nelsons in the morning he is running out the door to work, I have to navigate myself to the taxi stand and wait, along with the rest of Paris. The only difference is they are all dressed business chic en route to their respective important jobs, I on the other had am wearing a bright red wrap dress, black heels, a tiny evening purse and undeniable bed head. The female taxi driver that picked me up was less than amused. Apparently the group needed more culture than the Portuguese French man, so we head to the Louvre. Obviously this place is amazing, and turn after turn one sees some of the greatest classics in time. Museum foot will set in before you can see it all, and the swarming Asian tourists with cameras make navigating difficult. Regardless, to think that Monet and Van Gogh sat there and painted the opposing gardens is enough to bring goosebumps to my dreamy skin. We tore ourselves away from the masterpieces, and hit up Notre damn, en route we ate some cheese, bread and coffee at a small cafe. Notre damn, was quite impressive too, very old and gothic, with a profound wet feeling. The hundreds of birds that searched for morsels outside the building only made the place seem more erie. The swarms of tourists make these sights difficult to get intimate with, one might feel like sheep being herded through room after room, gazing at what the others look at, taking pictures like everyone else and then at the end buying postcards that are going to look just like the pictures you just took.
Paris has many of these must see places, but take them in stride, and get out quick and find your own path in Paris. There are millions of little un-charted corners and dingy crevices in the city that are begging for love and attention, appease them. We met up with my friend’s aunt, Latifa, she is a local actress and a beautiful French-Moroccan specimen. She took us to eat at ‘Man Ray” a restaurant owned my Johnny Depp, John Malkovitch, and Sean Penn. The food was terrific and the atmosphere was tres chic. The place feels like you are walking into a shell, very round and grand. A huge staircase leads you down to the tables, a big band plays to the right of the staircase and tiny tables grace the outskirts. This is the place to see, and be seen. A few bottles of wine later we head out for some real nightlife. Again we end up at Cab, though this time it is the weekend and it is much busier, we get a table in VIP and a bottle and then start mingling on the dance floor. I have to pretend I am from Spain, there is some weird concept that American girls are easy, and instantaneously the men are trying to drag me into a dark corner to “talk” to me. Latifa yells at them, and I feel as if I am now grounded. At 4 am decide to take this party elsewhere, elsewhere ends up being Queen. A great dance club with many homosexual tendencies, in case the name didn’t give it all up. The men are enjoying our dancing and we are now on pillars in the dance floor, Latifa likes to dance in front of mirrors, so I suddenly feel like I am in my room at home, goodbye inhibitions. We exit queen at 7 am and head to Madame, again we drink mass quantities of champagne and dance the alcohol out of our systems. At 9 am I can’t feel some of my appendages and vocalize my thought of leaving. Jenny and I depart gracefully, quickly take our shoes off, un-crinkle our toes and walk back to the hotel via Champs-Elysées barefoot. We hit the same cafe and order some omelets, coffee and discuss when we can move to
Paris. I fell in love so many times during this trip, it’s no wonder I want to go back again and again. Glutton for punishment I guess. Paris has some amazing things to do and see, the museums and architecture are so unique and extraordinary they are reason enough to make the lil jaunt, however what you will find when you are in the vibrant city is like no other. Never have I felt so alive, so vivacious and so appreciative, everything that is done in Paris is done with raw passion and genuine talent. Parisians take their time and do everything well, a definite cold shower to the quick american ways I am used to. Viva la Paris.
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