Some things about Paris haven't changed in 22 years such as the Gare du Nord train station. The same gypsies and pickpockets that want to steal wallets and grab purses are still there. I'm just standing there watching their antics knowing it is only a matter of time before they approach me. I just came off the lovely Eurostar experience and I rather not have anyone ruin my lovely Eurostar after-glow. I am so annoyed that I just roll my eyes in that New York way that makes no mistake about what I want to say. Besides my dollars are worthless so it isn't even worth the effort to try and steal them. The other thing that hasn't changed? The station needs a big feather duster to pass over it. It needs a dousing of Pledge..lemon-scented, please and some dust mops in a big way. It is still grand in that only-in-Europe way with huge vaulted ceilings and more train tracks than I can count. It is busy and bustling but it's also dirty and a bit run down. It's still Paris, however, so who cares?! It's Paris dirt! Since everything is chic and fabulous in Paris it stands to reason their dirt is too!!
First thing we need to find is a Bureau de Change because we need to change our virtually worthless U.S. dollars into Euros. That has changed. 22 years ago the dollar was still a presence to be contended with on the global currency scale...not anymore. Mom gets in line to exchange money whilst I watch the luggage and Clyde goes to find us transportation to our hotel. The gypsies are even more en masse near the money exchange centers...does this come as a surprise? I send Mom because she's tough...there's no way they are ripping her off. She has a "don't-mess-with-me" look that would reduce the gypsies to giving my Mom money so they are the ones who better be careful.
Clyde has managed to find us a lovely Mercedes-Benz sedan that can accommodate our 67 bags of luggage (okay, my 67 bags of luggage) and we make our way to the hotel. Already this is feeling different than the first visit. The weather is a balmy 75 degrees, it's not raining...the sun is actually shining and we are not lost. The driver knows our hotel. He's heard of it. And when all else fails, in this day and age, there is GPS. Mom and I are sitting in the backseat, enjoying the plush leather interior (I'm thinking, "So this is what a newer model Mercedes feels like because back home I drive a 25-year old Merecedes. I love it as much as I can love an inanimate object but wow, I don't feel the seat cushion coils in this car. Nice.) and taking a visual trip down memory lane. We pass some familiar sites; Printemps and Galeries Lafayette and places that I did shop when last I visited. This time I will just be window shopping and praying for an economic recovery sometime soon. All the stores are still closed; actually Paris is still sleeping as it is about 11-ish on a Sunday morning. That's the other thing I love about Europe. Since I am not a morning person, I love cities that sleep-in-late and stay-up-beyond-midnight. Paris fits that definition beautifully.
We arrive at Le Meridien Etoile and well, it has staff to help with our luggage...and a well-appointed lobby with a concierge and all the things that the Hotel Seedy (actually it was named the Hotel Notre Dame) seemed to have deemed unnecessary 22 years ago. We get to our room and after all the luggage arrives, we can still maneuver around the room. Mom and I can actually stand in the room and pass one another with breathing room to spare. You would have thought we were staying in the Penthouse Suite. We giggle because so far so good. There's even a bathtub in the bathroom and hot water that stays hot. The toilet is in a separate room from the rest of the bathroom and there are bidets in some of the rooms. Clyde's room has a bidet. He paid more for his room than we did so he got the bidet. Mind you, he doesn't need the bidet but he has it. And wait there's more. We have lovely toiletries. Even after all this time of traveling around the world and having stayed in thousands of hotel rooms I still get some crazy kid-in-a-candy-store kind of feeling when I go to check the toiletries in a hotel bathroom. It brings joy to my face when I see little bottles of Bliss Toiletries or Bulgari scented lotion or Aveda bath salts. I still remember fondly the mini-talcum powders at the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok. The housekeeping staff must have at least blinked one eye when I kept requesting toiletries and extra towels. I love fluffy bath towels too...anyway, I digress. I know, you're thinking, "Wow, these people don't get out much". Quite the contrary, but when you have traveled as much as I have, simple pleasures become glorious ones. You never know when booked accommodations could lead to a room that has a hallway laden with chewed on chicken bones and mangy dogs roaming the hotel floors (which is exactly what happened to me in Hong Kong years ago). You just never know...so we are pleasantly surprised and grateful.
We take about a minute to unpack and then it is time for the Metro lesson having decided that with the remainder of this Sunday we shall visit the Rodin Museum. Our friends Christopher and Sara recommended it since they visited whilst honeymooning in Paris so I thought, if it's good enough to distract honeymooners it must be worth a visit. Plus the museum was free on this Sunday (I think on the first Sunday of the month many museums are free so keep that in mind...) and we are all about free particularly toward the end of a vacation when I open my wallet and can feel a breeze blowing through it as I take note of how little money I have left to my name. Also it would cost us about $20.00 per person to visit during any other time of the week and the museums are closed on Mondays and we are leaving on Tuesday so off we go to get our dose of free culture. Besides is culture any less valuable if it is obtained for free? I don't think so.
The Porte Maillot is our closest Metro stop and the Metro is pretty easy to understand. Buy an unlimited pass for however many days you are visiting. It is truly the best deal in town. Taxis are abundant in Paris but costly. Granted, we took a few taxis during our visit but then we just didn't eat that day (okay, I'm kidding but you get the idea). Every station has a Metro map and the stops on a given train line and the transfer points are very comprehensive.
The Rodin museum is located on a beautiful piece of land abundant with garden pathways that lead to one brilliant Rodin sculpture after another. All the bronze beauties outside for us to enjoy. The Thinker is there so feel free to think along with him. The Doors/Gates to Hell? Huge bronze over-imposing doors depicting one man's vision of Hell are there as well...right alongside some of the prettiest rose and camellia gardens. In the distance the Eiffel Tower is making an appearance on the horizon as is the Monument Les Invalides which is a few blocks away. Some of the smaller Rodin pieces are housed inside a Beaux Arts building that used to be a hotel. The chandeliers alone are so stunning that well, I want one...and a house imposing enough to need a chandelier like that....yes, please! I know. I am surrounded by all this extraordinary art and all I can think about is, "I would like that chandelier" and hhhhmmm...I'm getting hungry. You can take this gal to a cultural epicenter but you can not fool her into thinking her tummy is not growling.
We're starting to feel a little train-lagged so we head back to the hotel. (By the way, if you don't make it to the Rodin museum...there are a few sculpture pieces in the Metro station next to the Rodin Museum so in a pinch just go take some photos there :)
So far, it's all feeling very Parisian. Imagine that.
I would like to tell you that our first night in Paris we had a French gastronomic adventure for dinner, emphasis on the word French but I would be lying to you. We had a fantastic meal in a restaurant with unique ambiance within walking distance of the Champs d' Elysees and the Arc de Triumphe. I promise to tell you more about that later but right now I have to go pretend to be helping my Mom bake an apple cake (more like getting in her way whilst she bakes an apple cake). The cake has to be made in her house for a variety of reasons, one being that I use my oven to store my air-conditioning cover and two, my entire kitchen would be better served as a walk-in closet for shoes and clothing.
I will tell you this much. This apple cake is incredibly yummy and the moistest apple cake ever created. It should be declared a national treasure. It could hold it's own against any Parisian patisserie. That's right. I said it. Yes, it is that good.
I'll tell you how the apple cake turns out and tell you about more of our Paris adventure next time...
Au revoir for now, mon amis.
First thing we need to find is a Bureau de Change because we need to change our virtually worthless U.S. dollars into Euros. That has changed. 22 years ago the dollar was still a presence to be contended with on the global currency scale...not anymore. Mom gets in line to exchange money whilst I watch the luggage and Clyde goes to find us transportation to our hotel. The gypsies are even more en masse near the money exchange centers...does this come as a surprise? I send Mom because she's tough...there's no way they are ripping her off. She has a "don't-mess-with-me" look that would reduce the gypsies to giving my Mom money so they are the ones who better be careful.
Clyde has managed to find us a lovely Mercedes-Benz sedan that can accommodate our 67 bags of luggage (okay, my 67 bags of luggage) and we make our way to the hotel. Already this is feeling different than the first visit. The weather is a balmy 75 degrees, it's not raining...the sun is actually shining and we are not lost. The driver knows our hotel. He's heard of it. And when all else fails, in this day and age, there is GPS. Mom and I are sitting in the backseat, enjoying the plush leather interior (I'm thinking, "So this is what a newer model Mercedes feels like because back home I drive a 25-year old Merecedes. I love it as much as I can love an inanimate object but wow, I don't feel the seat cushion coils in this car. Nice.) and taking a visual trip down memory lane. We pass some familiar sites; Printemps and Galeries Lafayette and places that I did shop when last I visited. This time I will just be window shopping and praying for an economic recovery sometime soon. All the stores are still closed; actually Paris is still sleeping as it is about 11-ish on a Sunday morning. That's the other thing I love about Europe. Since I am not a morning person, I love cities that sleep-in-late and stay-up-beyond-midnight. Paris fits that definition beautifully.
We arrive at Le Meridien Etoile and well, it has staff to help with our luggage...and a well-appointed lobby with a concierge and all the things that the Hotel Seedy (actually it was named the Hotel Notre Dame) seemed to have deemed unnecessary 22 years ago. We get to our room and after all the luggage arrives, we can still maneuver around the room. Mom and I can actually stand in the room and pass one another with breathing room to spare. You would have thought we were staying in the Penthouse Suite. We giggle because so far so good. There's even a bathtub in the bathroom and hot water that stays hot. The toilet is in a separate room from the rest of the bathroom and there are bidets in some of the rooms. Clyde's room has a bidet. He paid more for his room than we did so he got the bidet. Mind you, he doesn't need the bidet but he has it. And wait there's more. We have lovely toiletries. Even after all this time of traveling around the world and having stayed in thousands of hotel rooms I still get some crazy kid-in-a-candy-store kind of feeling when I go to check the toiletries in a hotel bathroom. It brings joy to my face when I see little bottles of Bliss Toiletries or Bulgari scented lotion or Aveda bath salts. I still remember fondly the mini-talcum powders at the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok. The housekeeping staff must have at least blinked one eye when I kept requesting toiletries and extra towels. I love fluffy bath towels too...anyway, I digress. I know, you're thinking, "Wow, these people don't get out much". Quite the contrary, but when you have traveled as much as I have, simple pleasures become glorious ones. You never know when booked accommodations could lead to a room that has a hallway laden with chewed on chicken bones and mangy dogs roaming the hotel floors (which is exactly what happened to me in Hong Kong years ago). You just never know...so we are pleasantly surprised and grateful.
We take about a minute to unpack and then it is time for the Metro lesson having decided that with the remainder of this Sunday we shall visit the Rodin Museum. Our friends Christopher and Sara recommended it since they visited whilst honeymooning in Paris so I thought, if it's good enough to distract honeymooners it must be worth a visit. Plus the museum was free on this Sunday (I think on the first Sunday of the month many museums are free so keep that in mind...) and we are all about free particularly toward the end of a vacation when I open my wallet and can feel a breeze blowing through it as I take note of how little money I have left to my name. Also it would cost us about $20.00 per person to visit during any other time of the week and the museums are closed on Mondays and we are leaving on Tuesday so off we go to get our dose of free culture. Besides is culture any less valuable if it is obtained for free? I don't think so.
The Porte Maillot is our closest Metro stop and the Metro is pretty easy to understand. Buy an unlimited pass for however many days you are visiting. It is truly the best deal in town. Taxis are abundant in Paris but costly. Granted, we took a few taxis during our visit but then we just didn't eat that day (okay, I'm kidding but you get the idea). Every station has a Metro map and the stops on a given train line and the transfer points are very comprehensive.
The Rodin museum is located on a beautiful piece of land abundant with garden pathways that lead to one brilliant Rodin sculpture after another. All the bronze beauties outside for us to enjoy. The Thinker is there so feel free to think along with him. The Doors/Gates to Hell? Huge bronze over-imposing doors depicting one man's vision of Hell are there as well...right alongside some of the prettiest rose and camellia gardens. In the distance the Eiffel Tower is making an appearance on the horizon as is the Monument Les Invalides which is a few blocks away. Some of the smaller Rodin pieces are housed inside a Beaux Arts building that used to be a hotel. The chandeliers alone are so stunning that well, I want one...and a house imposing enough to need a chandelier like that....yes, please! I know. I am surrounded by all this extraordinary art and all I can think about is, "I would like that chandelier" and hhhhmmm...I'm getting hungry. You can take this gal to a cultural epicenter but you can not fool her into thinking her tummy is not growling.
We're starting to feel a little train-lagged so we head back to the hotel. (By the way, if you don't make it to the Rodin museum...there are a few sculpture pieces in the Metro station next to the Rodin Museum so in a pinch just go take some photos there :)
So far, it's all feeling very Parisian. Imagine that.
I would like to tell you that our first night in Paris we had a French gastronomic adventure for dinner, emphasis on the word French but I would be lying to you. We had a fantastic meal in a restaurant with unique ambiance within walking distance of the Champs d' Elysees and the Arc de Triumphe. I promise to tell you more about that later but right now I have to go pretend to be helping my Mom bake an apple cake (more like getting in her way whilst she bakes an apple cake). The cake has to be made in her house for a variety of reasons, one being that I use my oven to store my air-conditioning cover and two, my entire kitchen would be better served as a walk-in closet for shoes and clothing.
I will tell you this much. This apple cake is incredibly yummy and the moistest apple cake ever created. It should be declared a national treasure. It could hold it's own against any Parisian patisserie. That's right. I said it. Yes, it is that good.
I'll tell you how the apple cake turns out and tell you about more of our Paris adventure next time...
Au revoir for now, mon amis.
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