Day 350: Montmartre et Marché aux Puces de St-Ouen

When I was on my high-school exchange trip through France, Montmartre was one of the highlights. And not only for the rats running across the metro tracks either! (Those were/are hard to forget.) Once we climbed the stairs from the metro stop to the top of the hill, this little niche of the city felt even more magical than the rest of the city (which is almost hard to believe possible). Paris on a whole, has always kept a special hold on my heart because of this trip. It was my first one abroad. It was with some wonderful classmates who turned into equally wonderful friends. I’ve since shared the same wonderful city with friends from college, my momma, and now, even Andrew. It felt right that we would spend our last day in Paris exploring Montmartre, taking our chances yet again, with another free walking tour company.

First stop: The Moulin Rouge. Just the outside of it… But I have to admit, I’ve been inside to see a show and was aghast when our guide mentioned how expensive tickets were! He mentioned tickets being around 200 euros! I nudged Andrew, insisting it was a good thing I went when I did. Upon closer inspection, however, it’s possible to get tickets for just 50 euros (without dinner of course.) Our guide explained the past of Moulin Rouge, once owned and operated by prostitutes who later figured out they could raise their skirts without putting out and make just as much (and these days more)? All of the current dancers are formally trained in dance and it’s highly competitive to work at the Moulin Rouge. Speaking from experience, their training shows, and seeing a performance while you’re in town is well worth it.

We began our ascent up the hill. Remember Amelie? This is the cafe where she worked! We took a few pictures, and kept going on our way. It seemed like everyone inside was a tourist and no one seemed to mind the photographs being taken over and over again of the façade… At least, I don’t think…

We kept going up, past the house where Van Gogh lived and his view of Paris (which you can see below). Our guide assured us the view has not changed since he resided here. He then took the liberty to talk about how dismayed all of the residents of Montmartre are with the amount of tourists and tours that roll through every day. He continued on (and on and on) about how his friend could no longer afford to live in the area and was moving to Spain. Andrew and I agreed after, as we were on a tour OF Montmartre, it probably wasn’t the best timing to complain to tourists about the amount of tourists in same area…

The Moulin de la Galette is a windmill that was operated to make flour for a certain galette (brown bread) which became very popular. Le Moulin de Galette was established for those living (or coming to) Montmartre for wine, bread, music… in other words, a good night out. Renoir’s famous Bal du moulin de la Galette is a depiction of life at Le Moulin! Currently, it’s one of the two windmills still standing (but not operating) on Montmartre.

Next stop: Lapin Agile. We were told this cabaret wasn’t always known by this name. It wasn’t until an artist asked the manager if he could exchange a painting for dinner (maybe a few drinks?) one night. Yet again, according to Wikipedia: Andre Gill painted the sign that was to suggest its permanent name. It was a picture of a rabbit jumping out of a saucepan, and residents began calling their neighborhood night-club “Le Lapin à Gill”, meaning “Gill’s rabbit”. Right across the street, a small fenced-in vineyard took advantage of the hillside perfect for growing grapes worthy of a good French wine. And before we knew it, we were rounding the corner and walking up a short street to Sacré-Cœur!

Sacré-Cœur is, in my opinion a beautiful church and as you might have noticed, I think it makes for a beautiful picture even if in the distance from other locations around France. The tiles are self-cleaning, which might explain how it stays so white! Our guide informed us that Parisians were not fond of the architecture and design of the church, as it’s a bit of a melange of so many different styles – both inside and out. We ducked in for a few minutes, but photos were prohibited, so you’ll just have to visit the beautiful church to see what the inside looks like! (It’s definitely not nearly as bright as the outside, that’s for sure!)

We began to descend the hill walking through what we hoped were the lesser traveled streets. Past the crêperie and past the many, many poster and trinket gift shops, stopping only for a photo or two. It was beautiful, yet we were exhausted. There are some days on this trip that no matter how magnificent they are, they can be equally exhausting. We had moved our things across town yet again the night before, didn’t get a great night of sleep, and then were up early to catch this tour. We had already checked out or our hotel because we had booked an overnight bus from France to England that night. The tour ended around noon, which left us with precisely 12 hours to kill before our bus, which normally would have been fantastic, but we were exhausted. I began to cry, Andrew abruptly turned around in the middle of a beautiful Parisian street with a marvelous view, and began to hug me.

I always feel incredibly silly when I get sad, or simply tired and let my emotions get the best of me on this trip… But it happens. Thankfully, Andrew understands the grind (as he’s right there with me) and never holds my tears against me. He reminded me we were going to see our good friend James the next morning and how he was going to take care of us in England for a few days. He also, as always, reminded me I was just tired and would feel better after food and sleep.

Later on, we met up with the girl who let us crash in her apartment while she was out of town. She had traveled through Asia on her own and while we were trading stories, she laughed about how some days she would be so tired she would be more interested in a bench in the park (to sleep on) than a famous site in front of her that she was supposed to see. I nodded in agreement, understanding all too well.

On our way down, we walked down Rue Seveste. It was dedicated to all things fabric! Instead of channeling Project Runway, I took a picture and vowed that next time I would pick up a yard or two. Also, lots and lots of thrift stores. Not the kind you go to when you’re as tired and hungry as we were though. You clearly had to dig for a good find here! Again, maybe next time!

We jumped on the metro and headed across town towards the Vietnamese/Chinese neck of Paris. It was a bit grungy, but again, a new side of Paris and I was anxious to see it and take care of a noodle craving. Per Andrew’s research of which was the best, we ended up at Cyclo. It was… ok. I try to keep in mind that not everyone has sat on the side of the street in the likes of Hanoi or Hoi-An or even Saigon on a little plastic chair eating noodles out of a bowl that may or may not have been washed after the person before you. Not everyone knows that you should be given an additional bowl full of fresh mint, another of freshly cut limes, and a squeeze bottle so full of hot (like really hot) sauce to season your noodles and beef broth to taste. Perhaps the editors of TimeOut Paris simply don’t know what they are missing. But when two bowls of noodles were delivered to our table sans mint, lime, and hot sauce… I was sad not because of how tired I was, but because my noodles were going to lack the flavor they deserved. Maybe this is why everyone else eats French food in Paris… and not lackluster Vietnamese… like we did.

Luck was simply not in our favor for the rest of the afternoon. We attempted to go to one of the many markets in and around Paris that I have not had the luxury of being able to stroll through. I had done my homework (i.e. several Google searches) the night before. I found a pretty detailed Time Out list (although maybe after the Vietnamese fiasco, we should have thought otherwise). We headed to Marché aux Puces de St-Ouen, only we were way too late. Everything was closed. I assured myself it was for the best. The last thing I needed was an antique I simply couldn’t live without that was larger than a bag I could carry-on an airplane (my favorite kind of souvenirs). We walked around before giving up, retrieving our bags, and heading across town yet again, only this time to meet our couchsurfing host for a drink before boarding our midnight bus to London.

Day 349: Centre Pompidou et Le Marais

We weren’t supposed to go to the Centre Pompidou today, but it started raining, and we weren’t up to doing a walking tour without an umbrella… So we switched gears and headed to the Centre Pompidou for some contemporary art (a bit of a change from the Louvre yesterday) and then went to check out Le Marais! We went to bum around Le Marais on our own before joining up with another free walking tour (giving Discover Walks Paris a second chance). Let me just say that I’m glad we went on our own beforehand, because again, I was a bit disappointed with our guide, but in the end I was glad to have seen another part of the city that was new to me! I’m already a little bit anxious to explore it some more during our next visit!

Centre Pompidou is a bit of a stain on the Parisian cityscape. It’s a contemporary art museum that was built inside out. I like it. As much as I love how ‘stuck in time’ Paris is, I find this building a nice little reminder of today! I also like the whimsical Stravinsky Fountain and of course, the giant street art (portrait) overlooking the entire complex. Really, what’s not to love?!

We began our visit checking out the Simon Hantai exhibit. There was also a Roy Lichtenstein exhibition going on, but we saw a rather extensive retrospective in Chicago before this trip began- so we opted for a different artist today. I wasn’t as big of a fan of his earlier works- but I really liked his later “pliage” (folding) method. According to Wikipedia: This is when the canvas was folded and sometimes scrunched, covered with paint, and unfolded, leaving apparent blank sections of the canvas interrupted by vibrant splashes of colour. He stated: “The pliage developed out of nothing. It was necessary to simply put myself in the place of someone who had seen nothing… in the place of the canvas. I found it beautiful and in a way, a more methodical approach but in a somewhat similar style of Pollock- another favorite! I photographed some of the works when it was allowed. At the end of the exhibit, I cursed my already too-full backpack and the fact that we were over budget. If I could, I would get absolutely every big coffee-table style artist/exhibition book I could. Maybe I need to be more diligent about adding books to my Amazon list? One day I’ll have a house with lots of bookshelves and coffee tables, right? One day…

We headed downstairs to the permanent collection. We wandered in and out of rooms, sometimes together sometimes separate. I was standing in front of one piece trying to figure it out, when a very nice Sudanese man approached and asked me what I thought of the piece- in French. I was a little surprised, but quickly rebounded thinking how fun it would be to practice my buried language skills. I responded, in French that it wasn’t for me. It really wasn’t. It was a mixed media (wood mostly) piece that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Or maybe it left too much to the imagination and I didn’t have enough of it? Either way, his eyes grew wide and he though I was talking about the museum in its entirety. I quickly reassured him I was only talking about the one piece, and then the small talk began. I wandered into another room. He followed. He kept asking questions, I kept answering trying to ignore the little voice in my head that reminded me how stupid I sounded en Français. And then he asked me to sit down with him.

And it dawned on me that he wasn’t simply chatting to practice speaking French. Andrew was nowhere to be found. He never is, by the way, when I find myself in a position similar to this one.

“Oh… So sorry, I should probably find my boyfriend…” I responded. To which he responded asking why I had lost him in the first place. Then I got flustered and I think I might have said something along the lines of “Oh it’s ok to lose him” giving the wrong impression entirely. Andrew, of course was entirely amused by the story later, especially when I refused to be left alone in a room full of contemporary art.

Maybe the Centre Pompidou isn’t the prettiest building in Paris, but it still has one of the best views of the city from it’s roof and balconies.

Hungry, and nostalgic for our time in the middle east, we headed over to Le Marais to try some of the infamous falafel. I know, not exactly what you would expect to find in the middle of Paris, but maybe that’s only if you weren’t familiar (like myself) with the Jewish influence within the fashion district. En route, we passed this empty laundromat. For some reason (maybe it’s because my Grandmother owned a laundromat once upon a time?) I couldn’t resist taking a picture.

We ate on the street, interrupted only by Andrew freaking out over some pigeon poo running down his back. I couldn’t stop laughing. Had my hands not been full of falafel, I would have filmed it for sure. Instead, he yelled at me to stop laughing and help him clean it up- because obviously, as it was on his back, he couldn’t see it. Stuffed, we walked around, sat down on some church steps and waited for our walking tour to begin.

I was excited to learn more about the fashion industry, as the ‘free walking tour’ website advertised, but it seems as though our guide had other ‘fun facts’ in mind instead. We learned a good deal about the history of the neighborhood, we learned even more about her time going to a high-school in the same neighborhood, but not so much about the fashion industry or influence over Le Marais. I was disappointed. She was sweet, but it wasn’t a great tour, and I fully plan on returning next time to soak up more of this neighborhood and even maybe splurging on a not so ‘free’ walking tour?

Day 348: The Louvre, Tuileries, Champs Elysees, et L’arc de Triomphe

Did you know the Louvre is the most visited museum in the world? I overheard a young boy tell his mother in line that if you looked at every piece for one minute, it would take several days. It makes sense, there are around 35,000 different objects, art works, sculptures on display. Instead of seeing it ALL, we hit my favorites, stopped by the Mona Lisa, lingered for a few pieces in between and made our way out to take in the Tuileries, walk down the Champs Elysees and the Arc de Triomphe!

We took our chances and headed towards the Pyramids (entrance) and lucked out with only a twenty minute wait to get inside! While Andrew read the news, I occupied myself by taking pictures (of course) of the entrance as we moved closer and closer to getting inside.   The Louvre hasn’t changed one bit since my last visit. Except, possibly, again, it felt like there were ten times as many people visiting. It’s a bit overwhelming with different wings full of art, and different levels of modern additions mixing with the old palace layout, and sometimes long halls packed full of paintings from the floor to the ceiling.

While we were there, we couldn’t help but notice the works of Italian, contemporary artist, Michelangelo Pistoletto. I didn’t quite get his pieces, but some of them made for very fun photographs!

Not wanting to get worn out looking at pieces that weren’t my favorite, I dragged Andrew out of one wing and into another in search of “La Victoire de Samothrace” also known as Winged Victory of Samothrace. This may (or may not?) be a bit of a cliché, but it’s one of my most favorite sculptures ever. I think it has something to do with the placement inside the museum, there’s this long hall that leads up to a very grand staircase upon which the sculpture sits upon. It’s Greek, as it’s dedicated to the goddess, Nike, and was created around 200-190 BCE. I mean, think about it, how incredibly old this beautiful sculpture is! Click on the link if you want to read more about it. I sat next to the sculpture and read the information card while Andrew struggled to keep his eyes open. Maybe you won’t be as interested in its history as I am, so I won’t go on and on about what I read (or reminded myself about on Wikipedia) so I’ll let you take care of searching for more information on your own! Usually we aren’t so lucky with our timing, but I just visited the Louvre website and discovered the sculpture will be under conservation from September until the summer of 2014! Plan your visit accordingly! You won’t be disappointed!

We walked through  the Denon wing (I think it’s the best wing) in awe of the art, but also of the crazy (CRAZY!) amount of people. I didn’t even bother trying to get close to the Mona Lisa and instead took a few pictures to show you just how popular the piece is (which I’m sure you’re already aware) and while Andrew tried to get close to the Venus de Milo, I busied myself photographing the young woman visiting in a beautiful kimono.

On our way out, past the inverted pyramid, Andrew pointed out the new Apple store to me. “I told you!” he declared. He had mentioned there being one and I was in denial. But sure enough, it seems since my last visit a mall has been established inside featuring select stores and even some American fast food chains. It felt wrong. Back outside, we walked through the Tuileries, enjoying the green space and (for the most part) lack of traffic in the beautiful public park.

Forgetting just how far the Avenue des Champs-Élysées was, we simply kept walking… and walking… and walking… and maybe we ducked in a store (or two) before finally arriving at the Arc de Triomphe. We were only inside the Arc, well, at the base of it for a few minutes before policemen began blowing whistles at everyone moving us all to the other side of a metal fence set up around the perimeter of the arc. Then a line of heavily medaled military formed and it was apparent that something big was about to go down. 

“Do you think it has something to do with Morgan Freeman?” I asked Andrew, thinking back to when we had been directed to different entrances a few times as we tried to get into the Louvre. There was a film being shot in Paris, starring him and ScarJo.

“Maybe the French are going to honor Morgan Freeman here at the Arc de Triomphe tonight!” I got my hopes up slightly. We waited. And then some older French folk appeared. We started to leave and then saw some movement. No Morgan Freeman. Instead, it seemed like more of a memorial ceremony instead. We didn’t stay long, and instead made our way back towards our little French abode for one more night. Only seven flights up to the servants’ quarters where our gracious (and latest) couchsurfer host lent us her home while she was out of town for the long weekend.

Day 347: Museé D’Orsay, Rue Cler, et La Tour Eiffel

We were supposed to go to the Louvre. Until we discovered the Lion Entrance was closed for the day, and we became apprehensive of the long line through the Pyramid Entrance… so we headed to Museé D’Orsay instead. “What’s in the Museé D’Orsay?” Andrew asked. “Some Degas… a lot of impressionists, but the best part of the museum is the building itself. It’s in an old train station!” I explained, as we walked across the bridge. Afterwards, we strolled through the infamous (thanks to Rick Steves?) Rue Cler and then sat in front of the Eiffel Tower until the wind picked up and it began to rain, signaling it was time for us to head home!

Museé D’Orsay is an art museum that displays collections from 1848 to 1914. But it wasn’t always a museum. Before the 1900 World Fair, the French Government gave land to the Orleans Railroad Company. The Company in turn, decided to build a new railway station where a palace once stood, also named D’Orsay. (Quelle surprise!) Because the location was somewhat in between the Louvre and the Palais de la Légion d’honneur, all involved wanted a station that complimented its surroundings.

Architect Victor Laloux won a competition to design/build the Gare D’Orsay in 1898 and it was completed in time for the World Fair in 1900! The station was in operation for 39 years until the platforms had become too short for the newer, longer trains. A couple years later, a hotel complex threatened to destroy the old station until the Museums of France decided to instead, turn the station into a museum. In 1978, the building was declared a historical monument and it was commissioned to be a museum. In 1986, President Mitterrand inaugurated the museum and it was opened a week later on December 9th.

While I love the impressionist collection the most – and the Opera exhibition as well – I continue to find the history of the building itself (especially the old clocks) more fascinating and worthy of a visit. Andrew asked if this station was where Hugo was filmed, I assured him (wink wink) it was. Please don’t tell him otherwise.

On the top floor, you can enjoy lunch or dinner in a small restaurant in front of one of the huge intact clocks before stepping outside on a balcony overlooking the Seine, the Tuilleries, and even Sacre Cour in the distance.

After the Impressionist collection, you exit the wing facing another giant intact clock. In other words, my absolute favorite part of the museum. If you wait long enough other tourists with cameras will clear out and you’ll be able to get a picture without any of them in front of the clock. I couldn’t resist this ajjumma (older Korean woman- in a visor nonetheless) and her daughter in front of the scene though!

It’s huge, as you can see, and worthy of an entire afternoon. The beauty, however, of revisiting museums in Paris is not feeling the need to see absolutely every work of art inside. We saw what we wanted to see, and after a couple of hours, we made our way out satisfied with our visit and less stressed than most who try to speed through in order to see it all!

We made our way over to Rue Cler, passing Les Invalides, at which point I declared to Andrew that it was one museum I refused to walk through again. I went with my Mom a few years ago, and military museums, even if it includes Napoleon Bonaparte’s tomb, are not for me. If you’re into history. war. armies. Check it out. Otherwise, keep walking (like we did) and head to Rue Cler, or the Eiffel Tower instead!

Rue Cler, was a result of my recent Google search for what to do in Paris. Like I said before, I wanted to mix as many new things into our itinerary as possible, so when I found a Rick Steves’ article all about Rue Cler, I thought it would be fun to walk through! We weren’t the only ones, as I saw others with laminated Rick Steves’ Guidebooks stopping in front of the same stores we were stopping in front of, reading the description. It was fun and felt like we were on our own walking tour, one that we could easily pop in and out of shops for fresh veggies (i.e. more avocado) and fresh pastries and a baguette for dinner later! I’ll let the pictures do the talking, and if you’d like to read more information about each shop or the street itself, click on the link above and read what Rick Steves has to say about it!

And then, only a few blocks away, we found ourselves standing in front of La Tour Eiffel. In English, obviously, The Eiffel Tower. We stopped to take pictures, we sat to eat our apple tart, and when we were too chilled to linger longer, we started walking closer arriving underneath the tower just as it started sprinkling rain down over the lines and lines of people winding around the bottom of the tower waiting for their turn to see the view from the top. I was grateful Andrew didn’t care to go up the tower, and instead we entertained ourselves photographing the tower from below.

I know, it’s probably overload, but I couldn’t help taking advantage of my zoom and getting some closeup photos. With the overcast sky, I’m sure they’ll look better in black and white, but that additional editing will probably happen when I get myself more in order and put images up for sale!

While walking back “home” we passed the Liberty Flame practically in the middle of a large intersection on the other side of the Seine. According to the plaque at the base of the sculpture, “The Flame of Liberty. An exact replica of the Statue of Liberty’s flame offered to the people of France by donors throughout the world as a symbol of the Franco-American friendship. On the occasion of the centennial of the International Herald Tribune. Paris 1887-1987.”According to one reviewer on Trip Advisor, it stands at the entrance of the tunnel that Lady Diana died. I’m not entirely sure of that fact, but it does make for some interesting speculation regardless.

Day 346: Bonjour de Paris!

Bonjour Paris et Bonjour de Paris! After a quick relocation of our things, we were off! Lunch on the Seine, a tour of the Left Bank (or Latin Quarter, whichever name you prefer) and a leisurely stroll back through the city past the Louvre, the Opera, and a quick duck inside the Galeries Lafayette for some new clothes, some perfume, a Prada purse or two… Or… in our case, the magnificent view of Paris from the roof!

Full disclosure: This is not my first time in Paris. Andrew asked me exactly how many times I’ve been to Paris, and I was a bit befuddled that I wasn’t exactly sure. (Yes, I totally admit that this detail about myself is ridiculously annoying.) There was my high-school exchange trip and the whirlwind couple of days we spent in the city hitting all of the tourist spots in obnoxious tour group fashion. There was my college trip with two of my best friends after the month we spent studying at  L’université d’Aix-Marseille. Those few days I decided to return on my own after galavanting around Germany with a friend after our month in Aix… Then the time I met my Mom for a weekend in Paris before she spent a week visiting me in Prague…

And now, with Andrew. I warned him it had been awhile (six years?) since my last visit. He was prepared for Korean to come out amidst my French. I was prepared to revisit a lot of places. And we both tried to prepare ourselves for how expensive we heard the city had become. I looked up a vast amount of alternatives for us to do in addition to the usual (museums, Eiffel Tower, etc. etc.) so we would both be happy and off we went!

“Well, that’s certainly new to me!” I responded as we stood on one of the bridges overlooking a man-made beach. We later learned, Paris Beach, or Paris Plages is an artificial beach built every summer for locals and tourists alike! How fun! Instead of lounging, we went to the opposite bank and had lunch on the Seine. I have to admit, it doesn’t get any more French than sitting down on the bank of the Seine with a baguette tucked under your arm and cheese, fruit, and more stashed in your backpack. I’m sure the French would have tsk-tsked us for having coffee instead of wine, but hey, we tried!

Our plan was to meet outside of Notre Dame Cathedral to go on another free walking tour of the Left Bank with Discover Walks Paris. (My mom and I stayed in a hotel on this bohemian side of Paris, but I didn’t know a whole lot about it and thought it might be fun to start our visit here!) We had enough time to check out the church before the tour started, but after seeing the loooong line to get in, we enjoyed the view from the outside instead. I was a little taken aback at the crowd- I’ve been inside the church not only as a tourist, but for a mass!  Where did all of these people come from? From what we heard, clearly they were all from North America- and it was weird. We were surrounded by tourists in Istanbul to the same extent, but it was a much more international crowd. Not so in Paris. I’m pretty sure everyone spoke English.

The Left Bank Tour started with a friendly and handsome Parisian tour guide, and we were immediately led across the bridge to the Left Bank right smack in front of Shakespeare and Co. bookstore. It was here where many famous writers hung out, sometimes just to write, sometimes to sleep, sometimes both. But more on it later, because Andrew and I knew we were going to come back and hang out a little inside rather than just in front of the shop in a big group.

Fun fact: Paris parks are awesome. Not only can you do whatever you want in them (eat. drink. sleep. work.) there is free wi-fi. Pay attention other international cities. This is a remarkable thing to offer, and chance are you can afford to provide the same amenity to your visitors!

We walked through streets with leaning buildings that we were told was done on purpose. Otherwise, at a right angle, the buildings would collapse due to the soil below. It’s a bit interesting because when you’re standing in the middle of the street, it’s not nearly as noticeable until you’re looking at it from the end and then you can really tell the difference!

Quick tip for when you go to pick up some cheese to go with your baguette: pick a shop that has a “Meilleur Ouvrier de France” sign. This store clearly won a competition and was voted the best of France! Similar signs will be on other shops selling bread and meat!

We did a quick re-enactment of Cyrano, walked past the Sorbonne, took a group picture, and then our guide bid farewell- but not before he suggested we give 10 (or maybe it was 20?) euros each as a tip. My eyes grew wide. Whichever amount it was, it seemed a bit ridiculous and after doing countless tours around Europe on this trip, I somewhat apprehensively looked around to see how much other people were giving. For the record, Andrew and I usually give somewhere between the equivalent of $5.00-$10.00 for an hour and a half tour. This tour was barely 45 minutes, and 20 of those minutes were our fellow tour members re-enacting Cyrano on the sidewalk! I saw one American (he was from Chicago. Gold Coast.  – I asked.) whip out not only 20 euros but an additional $10.00 bill to give from his family of four and I was somewhat shocked. With over twenty people on our tour, this dude made a killing. Not with any help from us- as we gave our usual amount…  But if everyone gave what he suggested… who needs a 9-5 when he can take advantage of first-time “free-walking tour” attendees and work less than an hour a day in Paris!

The BEST “free” tours are the ones who do it for the fun of it. Not for how much money they will make at the end. Furthermore, the best guides are those who don’t even suggest a specific amount! If you find yourself on one of these free tours, a great introduction no doubt, but certainly not the best we’ve been on- don’t be pressured into giving anymore than you feel is a worthy amount. Consider how long the tour was. Consider how many people are on it. Consider how much you learned. But definitely don’t consider their suggested amount. It’s undoubtedly inflated, and if anything, it makes me want to give less!

Now, about Shakespeare and Co. Aside from hosting the likes of Hemingway and more, the shop continues to be a bit of a refuge for writers and readers alike. Our guide told us about work-exchange positions that the shop offers to travelers. In exchange for a few hours of work each day, and the commitment to read at least one book per day, the shop offers free room (and maybe board? I’m not sure) to the lucky participant. I asked the guy standing at the door supervising the line (yes, there was a line to get into the shop) how he was enjoying his position. He said it was great. I asked how I could find out more information about it and he vaguely told me to ask at the desk. On our way out, I did just that, and the girl behind the register vaguely told me that the woman in charge was busy (she was right behind her and I’m fairly certain she heard our entire conversation) and that I should stop back in later. I asked if there was any information I could put up on my blog about our trip around the world and the girl responded…

“Well, you just have to come in and talk to her, she has to get a feel for who you are in person…” and she smiled, signaling the end of the conversation.

“That was weird…” I said to Andrew on our way out, relaying the conversation to him.

“Unless, she recognized me from the security camera taking pictures in the forbidden to take pictures area upstairs…” I wondered.

Sorry, Shakespeare and Co., but I couldn’t help it. For the record: another girl was taking pictures and I asked if we were allowed, she shrugged, and continued to take her own pictures. Why shouldn’t I?! Also, I don’t exactly understand your rule. I didn’t use flash. I wasn’t disturbing anyone reading (not even that dude below, who I super sneakily photographed in passing, I promise) and the old guy who looked so lovely in front of the window smiled and said something along the lines of “Feel Free!” Don’t you want others to see how beautiful your shop is and how full of wonderful character it is? Maybe I’m just another annoying visitor with a camera, but chances are someone is going to see these photos and know more about Shakespeare and Co. because of them! (Unless you email me demanding I take them down, which I will, albeit a bit sadly.)

Somewhat overstimulated, we began walking back towards our little apartment we were couchsurfing in for the next three nights. I took advantage of my zoom lens to photograph the bouquanists on the other side of the street. These river-side vendors sell old books, prints (new and old) and some artwork. They are lovely.

Walking through the Louvre, we eyed the line outside and debated when we were going to visit. Certainly not this afternoon, not so late. It’s advised to enter through a different entrance, one that is flanked by lions, not through the giant glass pyramid.

We continued down the street, and I couldn’t help but overhear a father point out the Hotel de Louvre sign to his children.

“See that sign? And the window above it? That’s where Mommy and Daddy stayed and we have a picture right at that very window!”

I thought it was the sweetest thing. I whispered what I had overheard to Andrew and turned around to point the adorable family out. The father was taking a picture of his family. I cursed myself for not sticking around to offer to take a picture of all of them together.

Galeries Lafayette. We walked in at first and I was sure we were in the wrong location. And then… we found the atrium and I knew we were in the right place. How unbelievably photogenic is this store? I know, I know, you’re probably channeling my mother singing “Material Girl” to me, but I couldn’t stop taking pictures! Even the top of the dome, outside was interesting to me. The lines. The behind the scenes of what everyone else was concentrating on drew me in. Andrew was beyond patient (as always) while I went from window to window getting as many unique angles as I could.

And then we found ourselves on the roof. Another new view to me. I had never been here before! I always thought the best view of Paris was from the Georges Pompidou Museum… But now I think we have a fierce contender. We were there right around dusk and it was pretty smoggy, so we made plans to try to come back to capture a more picturesque sky.