A Little Out of my Comfort Level in Paris

Yesterday I stuck my head out on the terrace to see just how cold it was because it looked REALLY cold.  And I saw these horses with a police (and street sweepers) escort.  I don't know why they were here, but it looks quite official. 

This morning I had French class followed by lunch with a couple of the gals in my class.  Very exciting to have friends...........

And then......

I suspect I have a little infection so I did what all the other Parisians do, I went to the neighborhood pharmacy. Of course, before I went I figured out what I would say - thank you! google translation - and it went pretty well at first.  But as is usually the case, they get a little excited and start talking really fast.  So I just stood there and shook my head.  Finally the pharmacist asked me if I spoke English.  What luck! I do!

The great things about pharmacies over here is that once you tell them the problem, they can give you drugs and instructions.  No pesky doctors' office necessary.

Next I went to the train office.  This wasn't such a big deal because I've done it before, but this time I didn't make the mistake of making the reservation without regard to the 24 hour clock. That should make the return trip much easier than the return trip from Reims when I had purchased tickets for 6:45, thinking it would be p.m. instead of what it really was...6:45 a.m.

Up to that point everything had been going so well that I decided it was time to do something I've been putting off for about a month.  I made an appointment to have my hair colored!  Tomorrow at 10 a.m. So now I have to rehearse what I am going to say to make sure I get the hair color I want.

Nicholas - the Wine Shop

Nicholas is the 7 Eleven of wine shops in Paris.  And this Nicholas is right across a little street from my apartment.  How convenient is that!

And my Nicholas is run by a very nice man, Pascal, who speaks English quite well and has offered great recommendations on the best Bordeaux. He is also my go-to person when something strange is happening in the neighborhood, like all of the streets being closed or some big demonstration.  Usually he doesn't have an answer other than the typical French shrug.

The good news is that champagne is 20% off for the holiday season. The brands of champagne that he has in his shop that we can buy in the U.S. are usually more expensive here.  I'm pretty sure it has to do with tax. So I'm figuring that a 20% discount will make the holiday libations just about the right price and I'm stocking up.

Coins!

It seems like I am almost always carrying around 3 pounds of Euro coins. 

And you can see in this photo that they are mostly 1 cent and 2 cent coins.

I use up the 1 and 2 Euro coins (and the paper money!) quite quickly because in the heat of the moment, it is much easier to throw out a 1 Euro or 2 Euro coin than it is to fumble through the other coins trying to figure out their worth.

And there are a lot of available values in coins here.

I'm determined to leave this country with only paper money - if there is anything left in my pocket.

They want the coins. The French LOVE to get the exact change.  Sometime I just pull out my stash of coins and let them paw through it and take what they want, but I'm trying to get better.  And I have a system.

Every morning before I leave the apartment, I put five 5 cent coins in one pocket and 5 ten cent coins in the other, so I know what I have and where to find them.  And I keep ten 1 cent or 2 cents coins (they are the hardest) in with my 1 and 2 Euro coins.  If I know where I plan to stop for coffee and how much they charge, or if I plan to pick up the paper from a kiosk,  I put the exact amount in a little pocket of my purse.  Yes! I am neurotic! But I am getting better.  Today at Monoprix my purchases came to 44 Euros and 32 cents.  I gave the checker the exact change, including the 2 cent coin!  Whoo Hoo!  We were both happy!

Things I'm Thinking about (Worrying about) in Paris!

You would think that being on vacation in Paris for 5 months I would have nothing to worry about.......but I'm a worrier.  It's in my DNA; my dad was a major worrier.

And of course I worry about the health, safety and happiness of family and friends at home.  That goes without saying, but doesn't really count, because I would worry about that even if I wasn't in Paris.

But in the last couple of days I have had a few things on my mind here.

First I was worried about the electrical meter.  The guardien (supervisor of the building) knocked on my door last evening.  To be honest it is the first time anyone has knocked on my door.  She told me that the meter reader would be here today between noon and 3 p.m. and if I was going to be gone, I needed to tape the number from the electric meter on the front door.  The meter is in the toilette closet and I need to stand on a chair to even see the meter, and I don't have a clue what number the meter reader needs.  So I stayed home until he came early this afternoon, with the guardien, and read it himself.  He didn't need a chair and that went along quite easily.

Recently there was an announcement taped to the interior building door.  I'm having trouble deciphering it.

I do understand that something is going to happen with "infestation" on December 6, but I'm not clear on what I need to do and whether this is a building thing or optional.  I did understand that even if I have respiratory problems I have nothing to worry about, and that if I'm going to be out I need to leave the key with the guardien. When I asked the guardien........she spoke very quickly, using words I couldn't understand and didn't help at all. So I guess I will need to email the apartment owners, so that if someone comes in to spray and there is a charge, they can pay it.

I'm no longer worried about all of the doors, but I still worry about losing the KEY!  I'd rather lose all of my money and my credit cards than the key.

And I worry a bit about the homeless people living below me in the phonebooths.  There are two phonebooths on the square below me and both of them are inhabited.  Luckily everyone in Paris appears to have a smart phone, so no one is inconvenienced.  And these are the lucky homeless (more on this topic another time), because they have somewhere to store their belongings and get out of the elements.  But I'm mad at them now.  I was coming into the building and ran into the guardien scrubbing the entry.  She was disgusted.  She told me that one of the mamans from the cabines had let their child pee and defecate in our entry area.  Of course she was disgusted; she had to clean it up. And now I have to worry about all of the germs coming into my little home.

Finally, everytime I walk down rue de la Rocquette (which is right around the corner), I get a twinge because I have to walk past the immigration office with a huge line of motely looking immigrants standing outside, waiting their turn to see a French bureaucrat. And I remember that I have not yet sent in my immigration papers which are due within three months of my arrival in an EU country.  That would be December 8. And I've sort of decided I'm not going to bother, mostly because my return address is worthless because I can't get into my letter box, and if I give my address as "general delivery" that will make the French bureaucrats wild. I've decided, since I'll only be here for six or seven more weeks after the three month deadline, and since I won't be needing social services... to ignore it.  And if the subject ever comes up, I'll  act ignorant (although that didn't work with the metro police, it did with the train people on the way back from Reims) and plead forgiveness.  They love that!

And since my mantra is "why go through it twice, deal with it when it happens", I guess I can quit worrying and enjoy my Thanksgiving leftovers like everyone in the U.S. is doing.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Holidays are of course, the hardest time to be away from friends and family.  But since most of Paris considers this a day just like any other, I have kept quite busy.  And now I'm waiting for my little turkey filet and potatoe to cook.  I even have green beans and a little gravy.

We had French class this morning.  Since the building that we usually meet in has been closed this week we've had to find other places to meet.  Tuesday we met in a little cafe' near the school, but it was awkward and quite noisey.  So one of the gals invited us to meet at her home.  It was a bit more intimate than the classroom we usually meet in.  She had tea, coffee and juice, and a great little cake.  And she lives in a traditional apartment on the ground floor of an old building. There aren't very many opportunities to see the insides of private apartments in Paris and it's always fun to get a peek.  And literally, right outside her door...........

So when I left class, I took advantage of being in that area and walked up the Champ des Mars, to get a better view..........

From there I walked to Rue Cler, since one of my friends at class told me it was a great pedestrian street, and then up to St-Germaine-des-Pres. It was a long walk, and since I had eaten only had one very slender slice of cake, I was hungry, cold, and tired. So I skipped down into the metro to take the easy way home.

And I'm getting quite adept at the metro. From St Germain I have to transfer at a major transfer station called Chatelet.  Not a big deal, I've done it many times.  But this time...........in the process of the transfer I came upon the metro police checking that tickets had been validated.  I didn't think this would be a big deal, because I always keep my validated ticket in my pocket, just in case.

There were seven police, checking people at random, and they checked me. I immediately pulled my validated ticket from my pocket thinking "no big deal", but apparently it was.  The policewoman (I think I would have fared better if it had been a man) asked me to show her something.  I didn't have a clue what she wanted so I pulled out my driver's license (I rarely carry my passport) and she took it and kept talking. So what had happened was......

Last Saturday when Rick and I were on our way to Pounette's for dejeuner, I purchased a carnet (bundle of ten tickets) for the metro/bus.  When I pushed the boutton, I received twenty tickets instead of ten.  I thought I had really scored, but it turns out that I had purchased childrens' tickets, which must be half price. And I've been using them ever since then, until today.

I tried to play ignorant, but she wasn't buying it.  She pulled out her ticket book and told me I had to pay 25 Euros.  I told her to give me my driver's license back, which she did and told her to keep the childrens' tickets.  She gave them back to me and told me to keep the tickets because maybe I could exchange them. Then she handed me a special green ticket that she said was good for the entire day.  Great! I had three stops to go and I would be home, with no plans to get back on the metro.

So when I got back to Bastille, I marched to the person behind the glass and said, en francais, after the obligatory "Bonjour Madame", that I had purchased childrens' tickets by mistake and I wanted to make an exchange.  She, no big surprise, said it was impossible, but she left her desk and went to a file cabinet and I was hoping that maybe................but no!  She brought back a form and told me to fill in my name and address and mail it to RATP Service des remboursements (you don't have to know French to know that that means).  The problem is that the key to my letter box doesn't work (still, Helene!), so there's no reason to pursue this. And to be perfectly honest, I had made 10 trips on the childrens' tickets, which is what I'd paid for in the first place.

But I still have the 25 Euro ticket and it's not too late to take a long metro ride, just to get my money's worth. But that may interfere with my Thanksgiving dinner.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone! 

"Thanksgiving" in Paris

This is the place for all of the American expats to be this week.  Today they were lined up out the door, and I understand that this shop makes 80% of its profits at this time of year.

It's on Rue St. Paul, an easy walk from my apartment.

 And what are they buying??????????
Besides turkeys, stuffing and pies, there are lots of American products available...........for a price!

Parisian Coat

Coats are a big deal here.  And they wear them well. Men and women alike wear very attractive overcoats, with a scarf, bien sur!

But as we all know, coats are difficult to pack.  So I decided I would buy a coat after I arrived.  The coat search started in early October, and it was a mission.  I was looking for something a little bit different, that fit well, and that wasn't TOO expensive.

The windows of the boutiques were full of coats.

I LOVED this one, especially with the matching dress.  But definitely not in the budget.

I was pretty sure that I would know it when I saw it.

First Helene and I ran into these cute matching ponchos on the Champs Elysses.  They were cute, warm on a cold day, and the price was right.

My next coat appeared when Deanna, Helene, and I popped into a boutique on Boulevard St. Germain. Helene had already purchased a coat in the same fabric, so I knew it was lightweight, but warm. And it fit perfectly! And I love it on days that start out cold and then get milder.

But I didn't take it with me when the three of us went to Reims, and it was cold there, so I needed something warm.  I knew what kind of jacket I wanted, and of course, in one of those boutiques we found it!

So that should be it!  After all I have to get them all home.  But I can't stop looking at the coats in the windows. In French..... they say léche-vitrine instead of window shopping, which translates to "lick the window". And they do have wonderful sales in January. Rick will just have to bring over an extra bag or two.

Another Sunny Sunday in Paris!

The weather is so mild that we can eat breakfast on the terrace in shirtsleeves.

Christmas presents are wrapped............

Bags are packed..........

And we have time for a walk down the canal to the Seine.  I swear it was at least 65 degrees and we weren't the only ones out for an afternoon stroll.

This couple danced while their friend played the music.  Aaaaahhhhh Paris - so romantic.

We got home in time for a nice dinner.

And Rick is ready to return to the States. It will be quiet, once again, in my little apartment.

Lunch with our Longtime French Friends

We were more than flattered when our friends, Pounette and Tristan, invited us to lunch at her Parisian apartment.  The French are very private and do not entertain often in their homes.

Pounette lives in an apartment which is just across from the very large Russian Embassy and a block from the Bois de Boulogne, in a quiet residential neighborhood. We took the No 63 bus from Gare du Lyon through the 5th, 6th, and 7th arrondissements, and then through the Trocadero which turned out to be nearly a one hour ride. It was like being on a tour bus, and we saw things we had never seen before. When we got off the bus, we only got a little lost.

At lunch, besides, Tristan and Pounette, her daughter, Patricia, and Patricia's husband and 2 1/2 year old daughter attended.  Patricia and her husband, Xavier, just had their civil marriage last Saturday in Paris.  Their religious ceremony will be in June in Hyeres. It was the first time we met Xavier.

Lunch began with a champagne aperetif.  Aude, the darling baby girl (in the cutest little dress and stockings), was sent to a nap( with the "Whidbey Island" bear we had brought her), and then we went to the dining room for lunch.

Tristan had prepared foie gras (from scratch) with a wine based gelatin as the entree'.  I was sitting across from Rick and couldn't quite reach to kick him, to let him know that this wasn't the whole lunch. And it was divine so how could he resist second and third helpings along with the excellent wine.

After the foie gras, Pounette brought out a delicious veal dish with shitake and cremini mushrooms in a thick sauce.  It was DIVINE!  And there were carrots, potatoes, and more excellent wine.

Next there was green salad with a vinagrette, and cheeses, and then finally a pastry for dessert and coffee.

We rolled out of the apartment at around 4 p.m. after having wonderful conversation with dear friends. We've known Pounette and Tristan for around 15 years, and met Patricia when she was just in high school.  We really enjoyed her husband, who turned out to speak English quite well.

Rick was reluctant to spend another hour on the bus, so we took the bus to Place de la Concorde, got off and walked past the very new ferris wheel............

and into the Tuileries gardens with loads of other people enjoying the mild weather.

We waited for a bit to see if the Eiffel Tower would start to twinkle, but as the sun went down it became colder and wee needed to walk after that wonderful lunch!

Chinese Massage in Paris

Thursday afternoon after French class, I stopped to do a little Christmas shopping. I met Rick back at the apartment right after his swim and we went out for a bowl of soup.

After the soup, we wandered by a massage shop and as we were looking at the posted menu, the proprietor came out and invited us in.  He could take us right away.  He went on to tell me that there are over 1,000 massage shops in Paris, and only about 10 are legit (ok - that may have been an exaggeration) because licenses are not necessary, and many are really bordellos.

Then he showed me how he had posted on his menu that the massages were only theraputic, because sometimes men come in for the wrong reason, and when they see that they leave.  The massages were pretty good.  On the wall of my VERY tiny massage room, I noticed a bulletin saying that it was not allowed to speak to the therapists in any way other than professional.

All of the white tents from the art show and antique show are gone, except the main one.  And, speaking of bordellos, there is this sign in front of the entrance.

"Coquin" means rascal, and it's FREE!  But we didn't go in to investigate.

Wow! Where has the week gone?!?

The pace has definitely picked up since Rick Almberg strolled into town!  But we've had some fun.

Rick and I have gotten into a bit of a routine here.  On Tuesday and Thursday mornings I have French class, so Rick jogs to the pool and swims laps.

He's a regular now.  He's got it all down...how to use the lockers, the protocol - don't wear shoes in the locker room - and his buddies who swim at the same time.  He did mention that they are not exactly serious swimmers and even doing the back stroke he can lap them.  They all stop at the end of the lane and let him go ahead.  He's even gotten to the point where some of the swimmers wave to him when he comes in.  For anyone who swims with him in Oak Harbor............I think he is better behaved in the pool in Paris!

On Monday we did a walking tour of "Paris During the Occupation and Liberation".  Rick had read a lot about this period in Paris but still found it fascinating to see where all of the action really took place.  I loved that during the occupation when people were out after the curfew they walked barefoot because their wooden shoes made too much noise.

I took this great shot at Place de la Concorde.

On Tuesday afternoon, I took Rick up to Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise.  I knew he would love it, even though it was cold.  Not only is it one of the most serene places to wander in Paris, it is full of history.  Rick loved the memorials to the resistance and the victims of the concentration camps.

And then when Rick positioned me for this picture, we were told by a friendly guide that I was standing on the graves of the homeless people.  There are not grave markers because no one knows who they are.  Ooops!

After an early dinner at home, we took the metro to the Church of Madeleine for a concert by a group of local gospel singers.  The concert was great.  The chorus had a keyboard and sax accompanying them and they were so dynamic.  Loved it.

And the church was stunning.............

After the concert, we wandered over to the Ritz, at the Place de Vendome, and had a champagne (26 Euros!!!!) at the Bar Hemingway which is quite famous.  It's full of memorabilia from Hem, and it's said that he cruised into Paris in advance of the liberation in his press jeep, parked in front of the Ritz, and ordered 50 martinis to be prepared for the allies as they came into town. I also heard that he stayed on at the Ritz for 20 days and never paid.  They're getting it all back now when the tourists visit the bar.  I wish I had a photo, but the bar, which is actually quite small, was very crowded. The bar across the hall of the Ritz was totally empty.

Yesterday Rick and I spent the afternoon at the huge Carnavalet Museum.  It's housed in two old mansions and displays the history of Paris.  Our kids (knowing how Rick is at museums) will really appreciate the fact that we didn't see the whole thing in one afternoon, and have to go back. Luckily it's free! It was fascinating. And the gardens are lovely!

We had dinner at a restaurant called Sopranos.  Yes, it's Italian.  I was there once with Helene and Deanna, and then another time with just Deanna.  When Rick and I walked in the very vivacious hostess remembered me, and immediately brought over each of us a glass of "Italian champagne".  There was a girl playing the piano in the basement and we had a great dinner.  I had tortellini with truffles - it was divine. And we drank some pretty good wine.  By the time we left, we had made reservations for Christmas dinner and we were all old friends - Bisous (kisses) on the way out.

And this morning.............it was difficult to get up to go to French class (or as Rick says "work").

Garbage

Although in the U.S. we often say "garbaaaage", with a faux French accent, the French word for garbage is ordure and the word for garbage can is poubelle.  When we were revisiting the imperatif in French class, one of the phrases was "Descende la poubelle!" (Take down the garbage!), which has come in quite handy with Rick back in town.

The garbage cans for this building are in an enclosed court surrounded by the building walls.  You have to have a code to get into the court from the street, and to get back into the building from the court. (The concierge was kind enough to tell me the code when I was in the court and discovered that that code is different from the code on the front door.) There's a net over the top of the building to discourage birds from entering and messing with the garbage.

There are three types of cans.  The ones with the green lids are for garbage, the yellow lids are for recycling and between those two there are a couple of cans that have rubber rimmed holes cut out of the lids for glass.

When bottles are dropped into the glass receptacle, the noice reverberates around the entire court, which probably explains this note on the front door.

It basically suggests that garbage, especially glass, should be thrown out only between 7 a.m. and 10 p.m.

My apartment doesn't face the garbage court, but every time I drop a wine bottle in the poubelle (which is quite often!), I feel bad for the people who have windows that look out over the garbage court.

There's a restaurant on the ground floor of the building, and maybe 40 apartments or offices that use the garbage court, so you can imagine the cans fill up pretty quickly. Luckily the cans are emptied almost every day by the Parisian garbagemen.



Lazy Sunday

After a late night at "le bar a huitres",

The platters are assembled right on the street.

Sunday morning, we weren't rushing to do anything, but we did make it to 11:00 a.m. Mass at St.Louis-St.Paul and then to the marche' to resupply.  And while at the marche', Rick found a new toy to amuse himself with........

We had the terrace doors open all day.

And in the late afternoon, we took a walk down the canal to the Seine.

Another Perfect Paris Day!

It was cold yesterday, but when we woke up this morning, the sun was out and it was very mild.  Rick didn't even take a jacket when we left the house.

But he did a little shopping...............just in case he should need another wool coat for another day...........

We walked to the Louvre, but didn't go in.  Instead we did what all the other tourists were doing...

I'm sure it was at least 60 degrees...absolutely perfect!

And then we attached the "Love Lock" at the Passerelle des Arts, along with thousands of others....

and threw the keys into the Seine.

Later back at the Bastille, Rick got to experience his first protest, up close.

Rick really wanted me to go stand by the riot police so he could get a snap of me with them.  The police and I both said, "Non!"