that's not champagne

We went to the Eiffel Tower the other day and, being us, wanted some champagne to take along. We found a grocery store and got some bread and cheese and chocolate, too, but this store keeps all the sparkling wines--even the cheap stuff--behind the counter and the employees have to get it for you. We told the checkout girl we wanted a bottle of champagne. She went back to the shelves. 

Us (Pointing at one bottle): We'd like that one, please.

Girl (Looks at bottle. Looks at us. Looks back at bottle.): That's not champagne.

Us: Um. 

Girl (Points to section of Actual French Fancy Champagnes): Those are champagne. 

Us: Oh. Right. (Pointing to original bottle) Um, we will take that bottle of Cheap Sparkling Wine then, please. 

Girl: *looks offended on behalf of all of France*

trip to a paris market

Last week we decided to go to an actual outdoor market, instead of our usual French supermarket. It was being held on the median on one of the many major streets around Paris.

 

Even though the supermarkets here aren't very expensive (in comparison to the restaurants, at least), this market was even cheaper.

 The variety of olives here would make you think we were in the Middle East.

 Yummy French tomatos.

Andrew haggling in French (yea, we wish). Andrew's haggling skills start and end with "Oui oui, parlez-vous anglais?" Nevertheless, we ended up with a fridge full of fruits and vegetables, which we've been cooking with all week. C'est bon!

midnight in paris in montmartre

The scene: Evening. Outside at the base of the Sacre Coeur. Grocery store salads, hummus, bread, and wine. Us, Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris (on a giant blowup screen, in English with French subtitles), and many thousand Parisians. 

front view

back view--that entire black area is filled with people. thousands of people.

We arrive a little late after a very crowded grocery store trip (though the movie didn't end up starting until half an hour after the scheduled time) and so end up sitting near the front row rather than farther up the hill. It turns out perfectly, because the angle is still very good, we can see one of Paris's most famous landmarks behind us and a panoramic view in front of us, AND we manage to be some of the first people to leave and don't get caught in an hour of foot traffic on the way out. (Especially important because we were renting bikes--from Velib, which we will post on later--and even with as quickly as we got out, there were only a couple left at the station!) As it was, we had perfect seats and were home in our apartment twenty minutes from the time we stood up to leave the movie.

Unexpectedly perfect timing on an unexpectedly perfect evening.

a morning in père lachaise cemetery

Not too far of a walk from our place is the most famous cemetery in Paris, Père Lachaise. It is the burial place of Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison, and lots of other famous people who lived or died in Paris (living or dying in the city is actually a prerequisite for being buried here). 

We thought New Orleans has some impressive cemeteries, but we should have known that it paled in comparison to what the French would do (nothing is half-assed here).

 The main entrance.

 A sampling of the tombs we saw.

 It's a very hilly area, which only adds to the epic-ness of the scenery.

Unlike the tombs in New Orleans cemeteries (which actually contain the bodies, because burying them underground in a place with such a high water table means the bodies can rise to the surface during a flood), the interiors of these tombs mostly had sitting areas inside (so you can sit and be with your loved ones, we guessed?). The tombs had closed doors (like the red door with the star in the photo above), but a few were propped open or broken, and we could see inside. They pretty much all looked like the sets of horror movies.

In one section of the cemetery, two tombs in a row had their front doors broken down, and their stone floors (where the bodies are actually buried) busted in half so you could see straight down twenty feet or so into the ground. Marieke (Maggie's writing friend, who was visiting at the time) and Maggie both tried to take pictures. Maggie's camera gave a "Write Error" message and wouldn't save the photo, and Marieke's very fancy camera wouldn't take the picture at all. Then we heard a distinct knock from inside the next (sealed) tomb over, and decided it was our cue to move along.

In the photo on the right, we couldn't tell from a distance if this statue was supposed to be holding a sword or a drink. On further inspection, it was supposed to be a sword... what a let down.

The first of the famous tombs we saw was of the father of Spiritual Philosophy. It is supposed to be good luck to touch him, so we scratched him behind the ear (and Andrew picked his nose).

Oscar Wilde has one of the weirdest tombs. In contrast to the very ornate tombs in most of the cemetery, his looks to be inspired by some sort of Aztec winged deity. The glass case surrounding it is to stop people from kissing it, which appears to be a tradition. I think it also has something to do with the fact that someone broke off the poor chap's penis. Ouch.

Finally the most famous grave... and the least impressive.

Here lies Jim Morrison - his tombstone states that he went to Wilson Middle School (Andrew's Middle School in Albuquerque), died in Paris, and did some other things not worth mentioning in-between. (No, not really. But it really is very modest in comparison to most of them. Maybe another indication that he's not actually dead...?)

mimosa brunch on the seine

It was Sunday morning, and what does that mean? Blood orange mimosas and brunch on the Seine, of course. 

Champagne, juice, and pastries. (We've discovered these waffle things with giant sugar crystals in them that seem to be a common breakfast food out here. They are amazing.)

Other highlights of the day: sitting around at Paris Plage, where parts of the banks of the Seine turn into a beach for a month, watching hilarious little kid dance lessons at that same beach, a cool breeze all morning that felt absolutely heavenly after the last couple weeks of scorching temps.

funny statues of paris (part 1)

Sometimes it feels like you find a statue around every corner in this town. Enough, in fact, that given a modern perspective, some of them are hilarious. Of course, after we make fun of them for a while, we have to take pictures.

I know, it's so small.

Hey little boy, want to touch my book?

I'm sexy and I know it!

the adventure list #27 (and #7): tour de france 2013

 

The Tour de France is the world's most famous bike race and, since Andrew is an avid cyclist, we've been following it for years. Needless to say, we were excited to see that we were going to be in Paris for the traditional end to the Tour: many laps up and down the Champs Elysees. 

We'd heard it was going to be packed, but it was also amazingly hot, and we didn't really want to stand outside for twelve straight hours, so we took our chances and got there at about 3:30 pm, when we knew the action was going to start at about 6. Somehow we lucked out and ended up in this VIP area where we probably weren't supposed to be, but where the crush up to the fence was only a couple people deep, and that happened to be about 250 meters before the finish line. We even made some friends who let us switch places with them and get right up on the fence for a few of the laps. Needless to say, we're glad we didn't go at 10am! 

It was still early enough for us to be sweaty and dirty and gross by the time the race started:

We hung out until the race started, and then watched as the riders flew by for a total of ten laps. 

We had plenty of time to take pictures, so we tried some different shutter speeds with our camera (I swear, they really are there in that photo that just looks like blurs!) and even got a video. 

When the race was over, we and our new British friends snuck into another area we probably weren't supposed to be in so we could see the medal ceremonies on the podium up close. 

And then we wandered around near the team buses and tried to catch a glimpse of some riders. (We did see Chris Froome, the winner, up pretty close, but no one else we knew.) And then we headed straight home to shower, because it was a long, hot day--a heat wave has just hit Paris in earnest, and it was a seriously hot and sweaty--but fun!--day.