Paris 4-1-00

The Paris Airport and the Drive.

As once before, the wait at the airport was for the baggage, not for immigration or for customs. For some reason, Paris has the slowest check bag delivery this side of New Delhi. There were many people who had connecting flights, and all of their baggage arrived first. Which is nice, until you think about what made that happen. I doubt that it was loaded that way � I am sure that the luggage handlers had to take ALL the bags off the plane to find the ones with the red �transit� tags attached. It did not really bother us though, for we were in Paris!

When we arrived, the sky was overcast, and it was about 50�F. We walked out with our bags (which I believe are slight considering the time and distance we will be covering) and found money and a cab with little problem. (NB: you can get the best exchange rate by using cash machines to get the best exchange rate for foreign currency) The drive into the city was uneventful, and we made it to our apartment in about 30 minutes and 200FF. All good things.

When we arrive at the apartment, we realized that we did not have �The Code� which is how you enter ALL apartment buildings in Paris. These apartments are not really apartments as you may think of them in the US. They are usually just �buildings� with shops or other commercial space on what we would call the first floor (What the French call the �ground� floor. The first floor is the one above that. This can cause considerable confusion, especially if you are in a building with no elevator. Walking up the fourth floor may be a lot farther than you think�) After we unloaded the luggage from the cab, we sat on the sidewalk wondering what we were going to do. I thought that we might have �The Code� in one of our e-mails with the owner, so we got my little computer out of its bag and started to boot in on the sidewalk. Just as the computer was starting to get into windows (Why does it always take so long?) a very beautiful young French woman opened the door and said �Miss Stoller?� and we were in.

The Apartment

Both of us felt that the owners of the apartment must be older than we were, to be able to afford such a place on the Ile St. Louis. We have not yet met the husband (Nabil Souli) but the wife (Emanuelle Garibaldi) is not older than 25. The husband is currently in Boston getting an MBA from Tufts, while the wife stays with her folks. The apartment has recently been renovated, and is gorgeous. New nickel fixtures, new appliances, newly cleaned walls, new curtains. It probably cost north of $600,000 and is less than 500 square feet. We are postulating that they are renting this out (we think it is their home) to help pay for the renovation and the capital involved.

Our Temporary Home

The place has a very light south facing living room with a sofa and two big chairs. The east wall of the living room serves at the dining room, and that wall is all original limestone from the 16th century construction. That is AT LEAST 400 years old. The beams in the ceiling and the flooring and wonderfully brown with age, and make the place feel very comfortable. Sometimes when I look into the room I feel like Jean Valjean hiding from Javert. The windows look onto Rue Ste Louis en L�ile

The bedroom has north facing windows that look onto a courtyard about 20 yards wide. It is very quiet and nice. The bathroom (for the bathtub, shower, and washbasin) is all brand new, and is very luxurious. The toilet is in its own room, as are most French toilets.

After we got the lowdown on the apartment (what switches turned on what light, how to turn on the heat) we walked down to get some sunlight and food. We bought some wine, sausage, bleu cheese, goat cheese and a baguette (Not without some controversy. The baguette lady shortchanged us by 30 FF, and Doreen walked back into the place and demanded that she make it right, once she found out what had happened. We gave the woman a 50 FF note, and she thought we had given her a 20. Doreen stood there and said, �Je reste ici� until she got the right change. She got it.) and then went for a walk to Notre Dame.

Notre Dame

Looks like a post card, but I took this Photo

On the plaza in front of the church, there were several old men feeding the birds. This was not like feeding any birds that you might have in your imagination, however. The �Sparrow Men� would hold a piece of bread in an outstretched hand, and the sparrows would SWARM his hand. There would be 20 birds on his arm and hard while he did this. The �Pigeon Man� would have birds covering his body � head, shoulders, back, front, legs, while he tried to feed them.

We finally retired back to our place for bread, cheese, wine and sausage, and managed to stay awake until about 8:00 PM. Not so bad.

A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and MLS

Saturday we managed to sleep until about 9:30, after a fitful and restless night. We both felt very good though, and managed to get up and about with little problem. We ate a light breakfast, and then just started walking.

The Rive Droit


We walked on the Rive Droite, going up past the area where Matt and Ab�s hotel is located. Then we walked past the Pompidou Center, and on to the Bourse (the stock exchange) and St Eustache�s. He is the patron saint of Eustachian tubes. That is Doreen�s patron saint, because she is deaf in one ear. Talk about an amazing place! Big, late gothic, and part renaissance classic. They are having an organ recital this Sunday, so we will go there and then stay for High Mass.

We stopped in a mall that was sort of the super mall for all geegaws, big and small, mostly expensive. They had Icons from Russia, they had medieval wood saints, they had medieval ivory carvings, real sextants and sabers, samurai armor and dueling pistols. Paintings of dogs and monkeys, dried, stuffed dogs, blackamore end tables and porphyry columns. All this was as amazing as it was expensive. A treat for the eyes, and a taste of things to come at the Marche aux Puces, or flea market, where the common folks shop.

We walked all the way to the Opera, bought tickets for the ballet Cinderella that will be held there in a couple of weeks, and the wandered back for a rest. On the way back we bought MORE cheese, wine, bread, and some real duck fois gras. Luxury! Life here can be good. And fattening.

Dinner and Entertainment

As we were eating our fois gras and cheese, a fife and drum corps came up the street in front of our apartment. They had no uniforms, and were just marching down the street to eat at a place called the Tavere de Sergeant Recruitment. They stopped and played several tunes (Including Dixie) and then went in to eat. Several hours later, they emerged, beat the drums some more, and marched off to the tune of Gary Owen.

They were French

Maybe that happens everyday here, but of course, this IS Paris.

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