Just
returned from a weekend in Paris with my friend Jonna. It was everything I had hoped, remembered and wished for it to be. The shopping was excellent and some glamour made its way back with me in the form of many parcels.Highlights:
- An older woman approached us as we were looking at our map, trying to find Saint-Germain-des-Pres (wait, I thought we were ON Saint-Germain-des-Pres ...how did we end up here?) and first corrected my pronunciation of the street name, then corrected my use of just part of the street name, and then gave us directions completely in French. Because I could speak it so well? The funny part was that I actually understood parts of what she was saying, as did Jonna, who was the one who finally got us there. One of my favorite things was the instances of people speaking many many words to you in French even though they know you probably don't understand. Perhaps they mean it to be difficult or snotty, but it made me feel like I was in a special club of some sort. Like my general demeanor admitted me into Frenchy land.
- Having a sort of emotional catharsis in the Chanel store.
- Muscat after a lovely meal.
- After a 17 year absence, the sight of the Eiffel Tower made my heart skip again.
- Walking up and down Rue Vieille du Temple (not Rue du Temple - doh!) looking for the restaurant we were planning on eating at on Saturday night. It wasn't there and the man at the tabac told me the restaurant shut and the owner went to the beach (or that is what I think he said -- it was in French) a few months ago, which is strange because we made reservations on Thursday. For what, we aren't certain. So we made the best of it and had tapas at a restaurant down the road that had seating. Not great but not terrible either and the waitress set the menu across from our table against a car, which was funny.
- The beautiful Art Nouveau glass dome with Phillip Stark designed furnishings in the Le Printemps restaurant where we had a very ladylike lunch.
- Coming up the escalator on floor five of Le Printemps and realizing that the entire floor sells only shoes. And fabulous French shoes. Zout alors!
- Spending precious time with my dear friend Jonna. It was a treasure. She is a treasure.
and yes, I got my hair cut.
1 comment:
Have you ever been to Montreal? Quebec French is so much different than Parisian French. I'm beginning to understand it a lot better...I still can't respond though. I find it amusing when my boyfriend's friends will switch over to French to say something insulting(or to comment on chesty women) and I catch them (not about me, although it would come in handy in a case like that!).
Looks like you had fun! :)
~Linda
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