Feeling Like a Local
Yesterday, for the most part, was quite a treat. It began by being able to sleep in some. Now, I am not known for sleeping in but I guess when you work 19 and 20 hours a day like I have been doing lately, sleeping become quite a gift. So yesterday began right around 11am. Diego and I had already decided to make an “early” start of it by heading out at about 1pm for some shopping. We headed down the block and rented bicycles. This may sound kind of odd and for you east coast readers a bit peculiar as all we know of bike rentals is the beach cruiser (with cup holder, of course) rentals that are available down at the Va. Beach boardwalk. Not the case in Paris. These are highly accepted forms of transportation and can be found virtually everywhere.
The concept is that you put your Visa/MC into the machine (which looks like a skinny ATM), choose how long you wish to rent the bike. The bike is then randomly selected (they all look identical and are numbered to remain inventoried) and unlocked in the spot corresponding with the number the computer gives you. Your card is deducted the appropriate amount of money (1 € per hour for short term) and you get the bike.
Once we had our bikes we rode on to the Louvre where I was able to take in several integral parts of this massive museum. Home to 35,000 works of art including the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. I spent my time at the Pavilon Denon and the Grand Louvre Pyramid. Both beautiful structures and works of art on their own.
Afterwards we headed to do some shopping at a place I cannot remember the name of. The street, while having mostly french stores, was also peppered with Quicksilver, the Gap, H&M and McDonalds. Yes, I said McDonalds which means yesterday I tried the offering of a french fast food chain. The result? Tasted the exact same. The only difference is the portions are way smaller. I elegantly ate my hamburger in four bites. They also don’t put mustard on them and don’t even offer it as a condiment.
Once done at this area I insisted we go to the high end shopping on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. Home to the world’s largest Virgin Megastore as well as Chanel and Vuitton, this street offered us more dreams than anything. At the end of the avenue was, of course, the Arc de Triomphe; a most amazing structure.
From this point it was back home to work until about midnight, our time. Around 1am though we needed a break and ended up at a little bar down the block that was more 1940s speakeasy than reputable café. There were shutters over the windows allowing no light in. The bartender (gay as a seal - as the french would say…in their own amazing colloquialisms) and owner played host to about three rounds of wine and one round of digestif. I have to stop trying that stuff. It is disgusting! While there we watched a man open his shirt and invite the rest of the bar to feel of is chest hair. We saw a woman try to dance on the table only to fall and smack her head on the floor. We saw a guy get his cell phone stolen and then proceed to chase the perp. down to an alley. We watched a guy stand on the bar and fart in the face of another man. It was simply unreal. By 4am we had had enough and decided to get home and call it a day/night.
February 24th, 2008 at 8:14 am
I found your blog on google and read a few of your other posts. I just added you to my Google News Reader. Keep up the good work. Look forward to reading more from you in the future.
Stacey Derbinshire