Passage Brady

by Danielle

After enjoying an incredible meal of home-cooked lamb curry with friends the other night night, we found ourselves craving yet more Indian food. It was a good excuse to bike over to Passage Brady, a 2 block-long covered passageway which is the heart of Paris’ small Indian and Pakistani district.

We enjoyed another delicious curry-based meal and poked into a great market of Indian spices, chutneys, sauces etc. Although I’m told the “true” heart of Paris’ Indian neighborhood is in the 18th arrondisement (and not the 10th), we love exploring areas like this which are not necessarily on a tourist’s map.

I’m Sorry, I Thought This Was a BANK.

by Danielle

I received a reimbursement for an overpaid bill and went to our bank to cash it. When I made my request I was asked, “Do you have a deposit slip?” I thought I had used the wrong verb for a minute, and said, “Um, no I’d like CASH please.”

The teller said, “I’m sorry we don’t carry cash.”

I had to let that hang in the air to digest. How can a bank not have cash? I must have raised my voice a little while discussing this matter, because an english-speaking manager came over and clarified that yes, it is a bank, and no, they don’t have cash. Wow.

I had forgotten a similar experience a few months earlier when I stopped into my branch to break a 50 euro bill. I was headed to the grocery store and needed some change to give to my homeless lady who sits out front. It’s a major faux pas to show up empty handed, in my opinion, as we have almost a friendly exchange.

Bank yes, cash no.

A Whole New World

by Danielle

This week marked the first time we’ve had both kids in school, Joseph in preschool (maternelle) and Rachel in nursery school (halte garderie). They have both adjusted very quickly and we love the childcare situations more than anything we had arranged back in the states, and the bonus is that it’s practically free. So now we find ourselves with four days a week (there is no school on Wednesdays) where we can do whatever we want. I can’t express how mind boggling this is, after having been consumed with the needs of (at least) one child at all times.

We took full advantage two days this week and played tourist. Day one we took Velib bikes toward Ile Saint Louis in the heart of the city and had coffee while overlooking the Seine and the park on the backside of Notre Dame. Then to the Marais for lunch, joined briefly by our friend Romy whose apartment is in the square by the restaurant.  This morning was rainy so we started at the Louvre but deemed it too crowded.  We walked through the Tuileries and had a coffee until the sun came out. Then we visited the museums of the Orangerie and Jeau de Palme. After a quick lunch in the Marais, we biked home along the canal. Life is good.

There are so many things we’d like to see, I suspect the next few weeks will be jam packed with tourist activities. We also are exploring the idea of taking day trips (not necessarily together) to cities that are easily accessible by high speed rail. It’s crazy to think that a day trip to Strasbourg, Amsterdam or Luxemborg is possible, but it is. Stay tuned.

My Cheatin’ Heart

by Danielle

In Paris there is a boulangerie/patisserie (bread/dessert shop) on almost every block. I used to find this unnecessary but I quickly came to realize the benefits. You learn that one has great baguettes, another great quiches, yet another has great north african cookies and so on. To further complicate matters, one might have great service with a sweet elderly lady, another has snotty girls on staff, pick your poison. Fortunately everything  costs about the same so you don’t have to factor that in.

A year ago we bought our daily bread from “Petit Plaisirs” at the bottom of our street. After shopping around we slowly realized that his bread isn’t the best. But we like the guy and I feel bad not buying from him.

To top it off, a boulangerie on the next block was renovated during “vacances” and now it’s a real gem and a pleasure to enter. It’s my new favorite. But because we have to walk by “Petit Plaisirs” on the way home, I have to hide the bread under the stroller (if the basket isn’t jam packed with groceries) or in my tote bag. Sometimes Joseph wants a piece to munch so I try to make sure he’s not eating it as we pass the shop. God forbid he and his wife are in front of the store with their daughter, who is Joseph’s age and goes to his school.

La Rentrée

by Danielle

We realized two weeks ago that we had one last chance to borrow the neighbor’s car so we decided to make a road trip to the Normandy region.  It took about 3 hours to get to the charming beach town of Deauville, and the lovely port city of Honfleur. We only had a short time in each place but enjoyed the water, sun and lazy summer day.

Paris has been extremely quiet recently while the locals have been on “vacances.” Many small businesses have been closed and the streets relatively empty. The city is quiet and almost peaceful.

It was an excellent time for Dan’s sister and her husband to visit us for a few days. The weather was delightful (and even hot at times) and we hit most tourist sites (Eiffel Tower, Sacre Coeur, Louvre/Tuilleries, Marais, Beauborg, Canal Saint Martin, Parc Buttes Chaumont) without much unpleasant crowding. As usual it was a delight to have visitors and be able to share our Paris adventure with them.

Now we face la rentrée, the time that the masses filter back into town and get ready to work.

This week marked the reopening of Joseph’s former garderie, which is now Rachel’s garderie. Eventually she will attend four days a week (all day) but so far we have visited twice for one hour each time. It’s a study in contrasts, as Joseph was very reserved and timid at first and would not stray far from me. But Rachel immediately dove into the toy selection and hardly looked back at me the whole time. She even flirted with the caregivers, offering them toys and batting her eyes. I have no hesitation about leaving her there, except that I will miss spending time with her myself.

Next week Joseph starts maternelle (preschool) and he is curious yet apprehensive, understandably so. I’m eager to see his french progress and it will be interesting to see which language Rachel picks up first. I suspect it will take a few weeks to get the kids comfortable with their new routines, at which point we’ll be able to stand back and consider what to do with all our free time. Fortunately I have a few ideas.

Anjou

by Danielle

Perhaps you know that the French take vacation very seriously. I slowly became more aware of the idea when I scheduled things. At a doctors’ appointment in spring that required a follow up, the receptionist would ask, “Are you going to be in Paris in July and August?”  A “yes” answer seemed very un-French. Even at an appointment with an unemployment counselor I was asked, “What are you doing for vacation?” It’s a national obsession, but I suppose that for a country with an average of five weeks of paid vacation a year, this is understandable.

A friend pointed out that if we didn’t book a vacation by late spring we’d probably be out of luck, as the French book well in advance. But in late May Dan easily found a “gite” (house/apt rental) in the Anjou region, about 3 hours southwest of Paris by car. We booked it for one week.

Like much of France, the town of Le Puy de Notre Dame is in wine country. Just south of the Loire river and the town of Saumur, its Rosé wines are very well regarded. The area is also known for; chateaux, sunflowers, roses, mushrooms, silk, and caves (mined for stone centuries ago, now house restaurants, gites, galleries, mushroom farms etc).

We decided early on that we would not be too agressive with our agenda. Our “to do” list was short and expectations low. We wanted to see at least one chateau, a winery, and have a dip in the pool… I think we crossed everything off our list by the second day so we were pleased.

Here’s the short version of our antics:

Sunday- 10min drive to see the Chateau at Montreuil-Bellay (didn’t do the tour, but thumbs up for the great sandbox in the garden, Joseph had a massive fit in the ramparts and i had to carry him down steep narrow stone staircases while he was bucking and wailing, wenever found the painting exhibition we were told about), explored neighboring Doue la Fontaine town center.

Monday- “Super U” grocery store (haven’t seen the likes of this since the states- ahhhh), Les Caves Cathedrales des Perrieres (stunning, beautiful, chilly!, underground cave), La Ferme d’Antan (roses gardens, farm animals), picnic lunch in teeny Brossay (borrowed utentsils from nice locals drinking in a private club), kicked a ball riverside in Montreuil-Bellay.

Tuesday- Gennes (the delightful town of my maternal grandfather’s birth), Chateau at Saumur (closed for renovations for five years, but nice grounds and “medieval” wine tasting), afternoon in the (frigid) pool with Joseph.

Wednesday- lazy morning, walk through town including the church “La Collegiale” (pilgrims came here to worship what was supposedly the Virgin Mary’s corset), playground by the Mairie, Joseph/Danielle swim, afternoon visit to medieval Abbey d’Asnieres and wine tasting at Domaine du Vieux Truffeau (small family owned winery, Joseph slept in the car most of the time), dinner of mussels and frites in town (no meltdowns, adult or children).

Thursday- Chateau de Martigné-Briand, winery tour/tasting at Domaine de La Paleine (I didn’t know wine could have honey or banana overtones, still yummy though).

Friday- Les Ponts de Ce (where my mother spent childhood summers with grandparents) and Angers, more playground time.

Two unfortunate things regarding Rachel. All week she woke up around 5:30am, and she chipped a front tooth (no, we didn’t beat her for waking us up so early). It doesn’t appear to bother her, but I can’t say it’s too attractive.

We consider the trip a success, it was wonderful to take a break from city living and see something new. But I can’t help but acknowledge that when you have small kids, even a vacation involves a lot of work. It was nice to get home and be in a babyproof environment and back on a routine. Maybe I’m just a creature of habit though.

Chez Singe

by Danielle

After many months of complaining about certain things in my neighborhood (the trash, the constant spitting and public urination), the warm weather has brought out the best in it. The nearby Parc Buttes Chaumont and Canal Saint Martin are glorious this time of year and we take full advantage of them. The cafes are filled with people sitting outside at all hours, to the point that sometimes you can’t find an open table (be warned, it’s smoke free inside, but not outside!).

I was especially tickled when a few weeks ago a renovation project started at the corner of our street. Ever since we moved in the first floor of that building has been boarded up and depressing to behold. Work began and it became clear that a cafe was in the works. I was thrilled, finally a spot that could maybe be “our” place.

While there are ample cafes in the area none has exactly the vibe I favor. They have names like Cafe Cherie (too trendy), Le Week-End (extra-surly waiter), Aux Follies (too punk), Cafe Saint Marthe (not kid friendly), Cafe Sardine (super slow service), Chez Gudule (not kid friendly), La Vielleuse (heart of chinatown/spitters) and so on. Imagine my surprise to have the cafe completed, very modern with shiny modern metal chairs outside and a bright orange awning that reads: “Monkey’s: Funky Food with Soul”  (they serve fancy burgers). The inside looks like a shiny new sports bar you might see in the office wasteland of Rosslyn, VA.  Quel domage.

Quatorze Juillet

by Danielle

My apologies for the lack of posts recently. Now that Dan has graduated from his MBA program it feel like summer is officially here and I’ve been slacking.  We have not been doing anything earth-shaking but enjoying the kids, the weather, and the nearby parks.  So you haven’t missed much, really.

July 14th (Bastille Day) is France’s national holiday of independence, and also happens to be my date of birth. I was always curious to know what it was like to be in Paris for this holiday. There are two main things that happen; a big military style parade down the Champs Elysees in the morning, and at night, a concert and fireworks next to the Eiffel Tower. Neither of which we got to see in person (boo).

I did catch a few minutes of the parade on tv while Joseph and I sat at a cafe. We could see a sliver of the tv inside, between the old men drinking beer (at 10 in the morning). Joseph got pretty excited when we saw a fleet of helicopters on the screen, and a few moments later saw them overhead. At night the fireworks start after 11pm and needless to say I was fast asleep by the time they started.

I should note that we did manage to celebrate my birthday with friends Terence and Sarsha. You may recall that I used to go to their apartment for Sunday morning conversation practice (Terence is French, Sarsha is Australian/Polish). They stopped by with champagne and a very personal gift of original artwork (wow)! It made the day feel extra special to celebrate with friends, and also be showered with emails, calls and gifts from friends and family back home.

Go Figure…

by Danielle

A while back I told some friends how much Dan and I enjoy Mexican food, and complained that it’s hard to find in Paris. During the course of the conversation I learned that my French friend had never heard of a piñata.  We laughed about the impossibility of finding such an item in Paris, and joked that in the U.S. there are probably entire stores devoted to piñatas. 

Fast forward to a few months later. American friends are hosting a Mexican-themed party which includes… a piñata! I asked where they got it (suspecting they made it) and go figure, just a few blocks away from me is www.lapinata.fr  (check out the gallery). Paris never fails to surprise me.

Splash

by Danielle

I know you will appreciate that I’ll spare you the horrors of bathing suit shopping in Paris. Suffice it to say that there are a plethora of expensive string bikinis available, and not much else. Why I left my favorite Target brand tankini in storage, I will never know…

There are not one but two new indoor swimming pools within a short walk of our apartment, and I’ve been eager to take Joseph. My brother and I grew up swimming on a highly ranked team (Go Tuckahoe Tigers!) and spent our childhood summers at the pool, so I’ve been eager to expose Joseph to the intoxicating scent of chlorine mixed with SPF 1000.

It was on impulse that I decided one day to take him. We’d shopped for suits the week before but I’d hoped to check out the pool once on my own before going together. I was certain I’d misunderstood the opening hours, or that there were some rules I was not aware of that would preclude us from swimming. I wanted it to be perfect, without any disappointments.

You pay at the front desk (1.80 euros), and head downstairs (after admiring the skaters on the ice rink) to the locker room. I was not prepared for a coed experience! Not that there was any nudity, but I am so used to the sexes being seperate, that each time I saw a man I was startled, thinking I had made a wrong turn somewhere and was in the wrong place. It didn’t help that signage was poor and the flow of the space, especially the changing cabins, bizarre.

Joseph was a great sport as I stumbled through the rooms, and he seemed especially tickled to have to walk through a teeny wading pool (not sure why, to clean feet?) before climbing stairs up to the pools.  Oh by the way, two things you should know about French pools; swimming caps are required (cruel), and so are speedo-style suits for men (cruel? you decide).

There were four pools in addition to a huge lap pool. We spent most of our time in the kiddie pool which had about a foot of water and a few playful features (fountains, some levers that controled waterflow into a sculpture) that were not operational at the time. Joseph loved it, we spent easily an hour in the kiddie pool and then moved on to the next size up, where he practiced jumping in from various locations. I was thrilled that he wasn’t afraid of the water and even when his head went completely underwater (twice) he did not get upset at all. Could he be a Tuckahoe Tiger in the making? Only time will tell.