It all began over some wine last July while visiting one of my best friends from high school. Though neither she nor I lives there any longer, each summer we reunite in the land of our birth, the Garden State, for a weekend at her mother’s house. During this visit, my friend and her mom revealed that they were taking a mother-daughter trip to Paris in October. Flush with the grape, I blurted out, “I’ll come too!” Mind you, no one had invited me on this trip. I seized the moment. It is what the Rules of Evidence call an “excited utterance,” a spontaneous outburst, free of artifice and an exception to the hearsay rules.
My friend and her mom have known me for a very long time and are therefore quite forgiving, not to mention gracious. They expressed delight and surprise that I would join them and we set about making plans. The other half of Team Snowball, Dale, coaches high school football in the fall and therefore is not at liberty to jet off to Europe on a whim. He ordinarily is not one to object to my travel plans, but for the sake of marital harmony, I thought it best to describe these plans in the form of a question, e.g., “Do you mind if I go to Paris in October?” As opposed to a declarative sentence: “I am going to Paris in October.” Or an announcement/excited utterance: “I am going to Paris in October!” The question mark worked.
The planning began in earnest. This required plane tickets, a place to stay and clothes. While my friends were planning to stay a week in Paris, I decided to continue the “Invite Yourself” theme and divide the trip between Paris and Vienna. I have a very dear friend who lives in Vienna, and I’d never visited there. I invited myself to use her couch for 4 nights. Luckily for me, she was planning to be in Vienna that week and yes, I could stay on her couch.
AMEX membership rewards points were handed over to Delta for a business class flight to Paris. Air France took my credit card for the Paris to Vienna leg. The hotel was booked. Now all there was to do was buy some new clothes. People who invite themselves to crash other’s vacations should at least be dressed properly.
In the days leading up to the trip, I began to think about where we would eat in Paris. In addition to Vacation Crasher, I appointed myself Chief Restaurant Selector. Pity my poor travel companions for this onslaught of Type A Travel Mania. But for some, including myself, much of the fun is in the planning. Besides, who wants to wander the streets of Paris, hungry and feet hurting only to be told by restaurants “non, nous sommes complets.” Better to reserve ahead, I reasoned.
Regarding restaurant reservations, I discovered that France has a service much like Open Table in the US, which allows one to book restaurants online. Check out www.thefork.com (or www.lafourchette.com). It allows you to sort by arrondissement, price, cuisine, etc. And like Open Table, it works. The reservations I made were always honored. Of course, some restaurants have websites through which reservations can be made so that is an option, too, and of course, hotels will gladly make restaurant reservations for you. Open Table does exist in France, but has very few listings, so thefork.com is the way to go, it seems. Another great thing about thefork.com is that it offers a variety of specially-priced options (such as discounted menus) for subscribers.
Choosing began. What fun! I thought long and hard about budget, neighborhood and food preferences. I consulted websites and devoured (almost literally) “Hungry for Paris” by Alexander Lobrano, formerly of Gourmet magazine, who has written authoritatively on the 102 best restaurants in Paris. http://alexanderlobrano.com. Of course, one cannot dine in 102 restaurants over four days, so one must pick and choose wisely. I did not rely on the book exclusively but it certainly was a great resource, as was David Leibovitz’s blog. http://www.davidlebovitz.com. Choices made, I informed my travel companions and they actually seemed pleased that I had made these choices.
Also in advance of the trip, I bought my Paris museum pass and my metro ticket. www.parispass.com
The day came to board the plane. What is it about boarding a plane to Europe I find so thrilling? It brings me back to the time when I was 17 years old and my parents dropped me off at JFK for that very first trip to Europe. Our all girls high school offered a trip every summer to Europe. I believe it was called “European Study Tour,” though there was not much studying (of the book kind anyway) done. It was a big financial sacrifice to send me off to Europe for a month, but my mom felt it was important, and boy was she right. I was bitten by the travel bug in a big way and never recovered.
The Delta flight over on this trip was fine, and the food, dare I say it, was very good. Yes, I really mean it. Watched “Moonrise Kingdom,” a Wes Anderson film staring Bill Murray, Bruce Willis and Frances McDormand. I highly recommend it. Check it out on Itunes. Tried to sleep, but I found this difficult in a space filled with snoring strangers.
For reasons I don’t really understand, this particular Delta flight leaves Atlanta at 3:30 in the afternoon. Which means one arrives in Paris shortly before 6 am. As much as I wanted to get to Paris, I really didn’t need to be there in the predawn hours. Nonetheless, here I was. I collected my luggage, found my driver and we were off through the darkened highways skirting Paris and finally into Paris itself, which was still fast asleep.
I arrived at my hotel shortly before 7 am, and owing to travel battle scars from other trips, had had enough sense to book my room for the night before so that it would be ready when I arrived before the sun was up. Certainly this is more expensive but do you really want to roll the dice and find out that your room will not be ready until 3 pm?
My hotel was the Sainte Beuve, www.hotelsaintebeuve, which is on the Rue Sainte Beuve in the 6th Arrondissement. This is the neighborhood Dale and I had stayed in many times during past visits to Paris, so in a way, it was a bit of a homecoming. There are several schools and universities in this area, and the Jardin du Luxembourg, a wonderful large park, is nearby. Along with many shops and restaurants and cafes. The Sainte Beuve is a small hotel, maybe 20 or so rooms. The décor is what I will call Paris-chic. Stylish, comfy, not at all over the top, nice mix of antiques and newer pieces. I was in Paris and I felt like I was in Paris, as opposed to London or Los Angeles. And the elevator was teeny-tiny. But it was just me and my overpacked suitcase, so that was fine.
Once settled into Room 20 (which was quite spacious, with a couch, nice bathroom and even a little balcony) I tried to rest up before heading out later in the day to meet up with my friends who were travelling on a different flight. The weather had taken a turn for the worse and the rain was coming down by the time I set out for lunch in the 7th Arrondissement, near the Invalides, which is where Napoleon is buried. The first stop on my restaurant list was Au Petit Tonneau, on the Rue Surcouf. To me, this place says “I am in Paris” so it seemed a good choice for the first meal. Small and mostly French speakers. The chef was turning out all kinds of delicious things from a closet sized kitchen. My friends seemed happy with this choice and so was I. It was a good spot to pass part of a rainy afternoon.
The weather improved later that afternoon so after lunch we headed to the Jardin du Luxembourg. French families were out in force, and everyone, and I mean everyone, was wearing a scarf tied just so.
Scarf wearing is not common on SBH so unless you have spent time in mainland France studying the scarf situation, you may not appreciate just how good the French are at tying scarves. They are really, really good at it. Even small children are good at it. Is it taught in schools? Is it genetic? Is there something in the water? Whatever the case may be, I admire their skill. I silently resolve to do better with scarf tying.
We kept it simple that night for dinner as we were all rather tired. Our restaurant that night was Le Coupe Gorge, a not fancy place with decent food in the 3rd Arrondissement. Very reasonably priced.
On to Part 2...
Denise
My friend and her mom have known me for a very long time and are therefore quite forgiving, not to mention gracious. They expressed delight and surprise that I would join them and we set about making plans. The other half of Team Snowball, Dale, coaches high school football in the fall and therefore is not at liberty to jet off to Europe on a whim. He ordinarily is not one to object to my travel plans, but for the sake of marital harmony, I thought it best to describe these plans in the form of a question, e.g., “Do you mind if I go to Paris in October?” As opposed to a declarative sentence: “I am going to Paris in October.” Or an announcement/excited utterance: “I am going to Paris in October!” The question mark worked.
The planning began in earnest. This required plane tickets, a place to stay and clothes. While my friends were planning to stay a week in Paris, I decided to continue the “Invite Yourself” theme and divide the trip between Paris and Vienna. I have a very dear friend who lives in Vienna, and I’d never visited there. I invited myself to use her couch for 4 nights. Luckily for me, she was planning to be in Vienna that week and yes, I could stay on her couch.
AMEX membership rewards points were handed over to Delta for a business class flight to Paris. Air France took my credit card for the Paris to Vienna leg. The hotel was booked. Now all there was to do was buy some new clothes. People who invite themselves to crash other’s vacations should at least be dressed properly.
In the days leading up to the trip, I began to think about where we would eat in Paris. In addition to Vacation Crasher, I appointed myself Chief Restaurant Selector. Pity my poor travel companions for this onslaught of Type A Travel Mania. But for some, including myself, much of the fun is in the planning. Besides, who wants to wander the streets of Paris, hungry and feet hurting only to be told by restaurants “non, nous sommes complets.” Better to reserve ahead, I reasoned.
Regarding restaurant reservations, I discovered that France has a service much like Open Table in the US, which allows one to book restaurants online. Check out www.thefork.com (or www.lafourchette.com). It allows you to sort by arrondissement, price, cuisine, etc. And like Open Table, it works. The reservations I made were always honored. Of course, some restaurants have websites through which reservations can be made so that is an option, too, and of course, hotels will gladly make restaurant reservations for you. Open Table does exist in France, but has very few listings, so thefork.com is the way to go, it seems. Another great thing about thefork.com is that it offers a variety of specially-priced options (such as discounted menus) for subscribers.
Choosing began. What fun! I thought long and hard about budget, neighborhood and food preferences. I consulted websites and devoured (almost literally) “Hungry for Paris” by Alexander Lobrano, formerly of Gourmet magazine, who has written authoritatively on the 102 best restaurants in Paris. http://alexanderlobrano.com. Of course, one cannot dine in 102 restaurants over four days, so one must pick and choose wisely. I did not rely on the book exclusively but it certainly was a great resource, as was David Leibovitz’s blog. http://www.davidlebovitz.com. Choices made, I informed my travel companions and they actually seemed pleased that I had made these choices.
Also in advance of the trip, I bought my Paris museum pass and my metro ticket. www.parispass.com
The day came to board the plane. What is it about boarding a plane to Europe I find so thrilling? It brings me back to the time when I was 17 years old and my parents dropped me off at JFK for that very first trip to Europe. Our all girls high school offered a trip every summer to Europe. I believe it was called “European Study Tour,” though there was not much studying (of the book kind anyway) done. It was a big financial sacrifice to send me off to Europe for a month, but my mom felt it was important, and boy was she right. I was bitten by the travel bug in a big way and never recovered.
The Delta flight over on this trip was fine, and the food, dare I say it, was very good. Yes, I really mean it. Watched “Moonrise Kingdom,” a Wes Anderson film staring Bill Murray, Bruce Willis and Frances McDormand. I highly recommend it. Check it out on Itunes. Tried to sleep, but I found this difficult in a space filled with snoring strangers.
For reasons I don’t really understand, this particular Delta flight leaves Atlanta at 3:30 in the afternoon. Which means one arrives in Paris shortly before 6 am. As much as I wanted to get to Paris, I really didn’t need to be there in the predawn hours. Nonetheless, here I was. I collected my luggage, found my driver and we were off through the darkened highways skirting Paris and finally into Paris itself, which was still fast asleep.
I arrived at my hotel shortly before 7 am, and owing to travel battle scars from other trips, had had enough sense to book my room for the night before so that it would be ready when I arrived before the sun was up. Certainly this is more expensive but do you really want to roll the dice and find out that your room will not be ready until 3 pm?
My hotel was the Sainte Beuve, www.hotelsaintebeuve, which is on the Rue Sainte Beuve in the 6th Arrondissement. This is the neighborhood Dale and I had stayed in many times during past visits to Paris, so in a way, it was a bit of a homecoming. There are several schools and universities in this area, and the Jardin du Luxembourg, a wonderful large park, is nearby. Along with many shops and restaurants and cafes. The Sainte Beuve is a small hotel, maybe 20 or so rooms. The décor is what I will call Paris-chic. Stylish, comfy, not at all over the top, nice mix of antiques and newer pieces. I was in Paris and I felt like I was in Paris, as opposed to London or Los Angeles. And the elevator was teeny-tiny. But it was just me and my overpacked suitcase, so that was fine.
Once settled into Room 20 (which was quite spacious, with a couch, nice bathroom and even a little balcony) I tried to rest up before heading out later in the day to meet up with my friends who were travelling on a different flight. The weather had taken a turn for the worse and the rain was coming down by the time I set out for lunch in the 7th Arrondissement, near the Invalides, which is where Napoleon is buried. The first stop on my restaurant list was Au Petit Tonneau, on the Rue Surcouf. To me, this place says “I am in Paris” so it seemed a good choice for the first meal. Small and mostly French speakers. The chef was turning out all kinds of delicious things from a closet sized kitchen. My friends seemed happy with this choice and so was I. It was a good spot to pass part of a rainy afternoon.
The weather improved later that afternoon so after lunch we headed to the Jardin du Luxembourg. French families were out in force, and everyone, and I mean everyone, was wearing a scarf tied just so.
Scarf wearing is not common on SBH so unless you have spent time in mainland France studying the scarf situation, you may not appreciate just how good the French are at tying scarves. They are really, really good at it. Even small children are good at it. Is it taught in schools? Is it genetic? Is there something in the water? Whatever the case may be, I admire their skill. I silently resolve to do better with scarf tying.
We kept it simple that night for dinner as we were all rather tired. Our restaurant that night was Le Coupe Gorge, a not fancy place with decent food in the 3rd Arrondissement. Very reasonably priced.
On to Part 2...
Denise
