Paris - It’s more than just an airport.
Duh! Of course it is, I just hadn’t seen it before. Too many times my flight landed at the stunningly designed Charles de Gaulle International Airport barely in time for me to catch a plane or train elsewhere. Imagine the frustration of admiring the beauty of Paris only on takeoffs or landings, or as a distant skyline seen from a high-speed train. It was a crazy circumstance that had to be remedied. On my last trip to France I did just that.
On the Rue du Dragon, which is a short connecting street barely wide enough for traffic, is a typical Paris hotel - Hotel du Dragon. It’s redeeming quality was the price (under $100 Euros) and the fantastic location. It is an easy walk to shopping on St. Germain, extensive gardens, museums and the Left Bank. So the lack of an elevator, room to walk around my bed, space to turn around in a converted hallway bathroom only as wide as the shower stall at the far end of it, and any pretense of civility, were, if not easily, at least sensibly overlooked. I was in Paris for 26 hours. There was no time for regrets.
It was less a question of what to see first, than it was one of “How much can I see?” I was 3 blocks from the Latin quarter & La Rive Gauche (the left bank), one more to Norte Dame, the Jardin du Luxembourg and the Louvre. There were 2 Metro stops, restaurants and plenty of great shopping on the way to all of them! I was in heaven!
I window shopped on St. Germain, a beautiful, divided boulevard running parallel to the Seine. I saw thousands of dollars worth of things I liked, but, with the Euro at $1.59, paying over 100 Euros for a pair of sneakers and four times that for shoes was out of the question. It is a pricey neighborhood.
I walked everywhere. The promenades along the Seine are perfect for people watching and tourists. It was Sunday, so services were on at Notre Dame Cathedral. The ethereal sound of voices raised in harmony with the organ wafted out over the blooming crab apple trees, hushing the tourists waiting at the door for the bells to toll. The sun even peeked out a few times to remind me that a higher power was in control. Paris is beautiful in the Springtime.
I continued on, past the famous bookstalls and flower market, down to the formal gardens beyond the Louvre that make up this end of the Champes Elysees. Everywhere I looked was green and budded, with vast beds of mixed tulips in full bloom. Little boys sailed boats in the pools, lovers spooned, and couples of all ages strolled hand-in-hand down the allees, the many sculptures sheltered by the freshening trees.
The Grand Palais beckoned in the distance. Two massive pieces of a Richard Serra sculpture defined a gate out of the park. Not guarded as they were in the Guggenheim, in Bilbao, or at the MOMA, in New York - no - these invited the sensuous caress prohibited at the others. I lingered between them, absorbing their strength, smiling as people touched and leaned against the 40 ton curvaceous walls. The French are so sensible about art. Maybe its because they have so much of it to see. I laughed at the lack of restrictions, pounded on the resonating walls and angled my way towards the Arc de Triumphe.
The sight of the Crystal Palace quickly distracted me. I detoured my walk to admire the architecture and the beautiful light coming through the glass roof. There was a book show inside, so I paid a fee and spent an hour admiring the publisher’s art from antiquity into the present, imagining the glass hall filled with plants and flowers, while a light rain fell outside. I ate something there, I have no recollection what, sitting on the high steps looking out over the crowded floor of book sellers and their customers. When the sun came out again I left.
I spent a day and a night like this, walking where my nose pointed, eating street food and snacks, drinking the bottle of French wine I purchased in a local shop. A simple meal of ham and cheese, that is - cured Spanish Jamon with slivers of Parmesan - and crusty French bread completed my dining. It was a day for touring, not eating. I bumped into newlyweds being photographed on an elaborate bridge, a band playing while a man dressed as a penis danced, a wine tasting in front of the church, a distant Eiffel Tower, and countless groups of US students on Holiday touring the city, their English sounding harsh after all the murmured French. Paris is such a beautiful city to lose oneself in. I had a blast!
All too soon my idyll ended. Air France finally had an open seat back to the US, and I had to be on it. On the return flight I slept the sleep of the dead. All the perks of Business class were as wasted on my inert form as my hotel room bed was during my exploration of Paris the night before. I’m safely home in the US now, but I can’t wait to go back to Paris!
Official French Government Tourist Office
www.franceguide.com
Hotel du Dragon
6, rue du Dragon,
Paris 75006, France
Luxembourg Gardens (Jardin du Luxembourg)
15 rue de Vaugirard
Paris 75291 France
Tel: 33 01 44 54 19 49
Air France
www.airfrance.us
Richard Frisbie, FOOD Correspondent:
RICHARD FRISBIE is published twice a month to Gather Essentials: Food. It is a food junkie's take on growing, raising, preparing and - above all else - eating food. Together we’ll explore the trends, addictions, equipment and regional specialties that make up the sometimes mundane and sometimes sublime cooking and dining experience. You can keep up with my other postings and Gather activity by joining my Gather network -- I look forward to hearing from you.
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Comments: 28
It is a magical city full of art and culture and history. I don't blame the Parisiennes for being haughty - they have so much to be proud of. If I went back, I would definitely stay as you did on the Left Bank. I think it truly represents the heart of Paris. Thanks so much for sharing this, Richard. It brought back a lot of happy memories.
I've been in Paris 3 times, and can never tire of it. Paris never, ever disappoints (despite what Amanda thinks)!
Someday maybe.....
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Sheryl - "But who stays in their hotel in Paris? " EXACTLY! I had a companion who read a book in the room while I walked - but she's in Paris many times a year! Me - I was a virgin!
Outside of Paris the French were wonderful. In Paris they were less "open", less accepting of me.
I'm with you, Sheryl!
I always thought it was the total opposite. I have traveled and visited family outside of the city a lot and I have always found that people are incredibly turned off by visitors-- and that's that I don't speak English when I am there, generally I always speak Spanish except when I need to speak to someone in French (my bad French). I've always been met by rude people in small towns.
It might also be that in the larger cities, I take on my city girl attitude and just go about my business, much like I would in Chicago, without much interaction.