The Journey - First days....

The worst part of the journey is over – the flights were fine – enduring the TSA is one thing but Heathrow is always a nightmare for us when in transit to another airline.   Last time they lost our luggage and it chased us all over Turkey for over a week.  This is where we learned to pack one change of clothes in the carry on!  This trip the luggage made it to our destination with us!

Our apartment this trip is in the Montparnasse area of the 14^th arrondisement – just a short distance from the Blvd. Montparnasse and the famous “literary” hangouts of the Lost Generation.  On our first day we had a late lunch at La Rotonde.  Hemingway once said, “No matter what café in Montparnasse you ask a taxi driver to bring you to from the right bank of the river, they always take you to the Rotonde.”   We managed a seat in the front window to watch the world go by.  The interior is classic – prints of a past client – Modigliani – line the walls.  It’s easy to imagine Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Stein sitting at the table nearby.   Now we have to try the other cafes! 

Yesterday we had grand plans to start exploring – BUT – we never made it out except for a trip to the farmers’ market in front of our apartment.  There was everything – it stretched for a couple of blocks – vegetables and fruit of every variety,  butchers, fish mongers, cheese shops, bakery goods, spices, olives, international foods, prepared foods, charcuterie, plants, clothes, etc.  We bought a whole chicken that was roasted on a spit at a stand – along with potatoes as well as fruits and vegetables, paté, rillete du porc, boudin noir, champignons à la grecque, baguettes, and chocolate pear cake.  We were set for several days – at least until the next market day on Wednesday! 

 

Since we had the warm chicken and potatoes, we decided to have our main meal at noon.  After we ate, the rain started so it was nap time!  We never made it out again until after a light dinner.  We walked along the Blvd. Montparnasse that was teeming with people out on a Saturday.  The lights of the cafes and shops reflected off the wet pavement giving the whole scene a mystical feeling – a feeling of being in Paris.  Paris under the rain has its own qualities.  Owen Wilson’s character in Midnight in Paris loved walking in the rain – he was right, but I’ll take it after the worst is over!  (P.S. There are even Paris Tours of the Midnight in Paris sites!)

 

After being here a few days, I got to thinking about how you could tell you were in Paris if you were just plopped down here without warning. 

 

You know you are in Paris or France when:

• You see someone wearing a sweatshirt that says “New York City Redskins."
• The supermarkets post the country of origin of fruits and vegetables.
• Cafes and restaurants are not in a rush to get you to move on. 
• Your plate is not taken the minute the last morsel passes your lips.
• Waiters do not bring the check until you ask.
• There is no political advertising on television or the radio.
• Television programs do NOT start on the hour or half-hour.  
• A small black and white dog wanders around the set on the French version of Family Feud
• On game shows the loser kisses the winner on both cheeks.
• Appliances are multi-function – washer/dryer combo; oven/microwave/grill/convection plus   combinations of these functions, etc.  Saving space is the goal..
• 80% of registered voters actually vote.  Last week– 4 out of 5 voted – and this was down from 84% in 2007.  Most countries only dream of this kind of turnout..
• Living in 600 square feet is normal and comfortable.
• Public transportation works!
• Strikes are the norm.
• Eating is more than just sustenance.  It’s a social event.
•  People work to live rather than live to work. 

Vive la Différence!

 

Am  I a Francophile – Guilty!