I coughed up a storm last night, sad. I woke up on time and
was ready to go at 8:40 am, good. Kate and I made it on our train with no
problems, very good. We arrived in Paris had some sushi at Galerie Lafayette,
aw yeah. We then hopped on the metro lines to the Eiffel Tower for their
Christmas market, great. After some hot spiced wine we found Jonathan, kick
ass. Then the day started. Due to length of this blog I am going to crunch it
into chunks for clear and concise consumption. C's rock, here we go!
Morning/Day. Kate, Jonathan, and I, the current
"we", took several pictures around and of the Eiffel Tower. I'm never
sure why we always do this, but somehow the Eiffel Tower has to be the backdrop
of tons of photos when we're in Paris together. It was a lot fun, especially
for Kate. Jonathan happened to bring his nice, and by nice I mean expensive,
camera with him this time and allowed Kate to use it. She snapped probably over
twenty pictures, that might be an understatement, in the Eiffel Tower area
alone of both Jonathan and me, though mostly Jonathan. She was like a kid on
the first day of summer, just running around with giddy giggling glee and fancy
camera. Besides pictures we did actually browse the markets. I found, and am
proud of this, a gingerbread cookie in the shape of a frog. I have a feeling
the reason I bought it was because of my subconscious love of frogs or
frog-like creatures. Namely bulbasaur. Remember when I was sleep deprived after
pulling an all-nighter for a French essay? I drew a frog/baby bulbasaur on my
arm for no apparent reason besides the fact that I wanted it there. Well this
cookie stood out to me and I felt an uncontrollable need to have it. It was
without a doubt my best purchase of the day.
Afternoon. We, still the troublesome trio of Anglos, moved
on to another area of Paris. Notre Dame. Every time I look at that building I
flush in the face. I cannot help myself, I'm just in love with the place. How I
always wish that I could time travel to when it was solely a cathedral and not
a tourist trap. Back when it was sanctuary with all of its glorious bells
ringing in the towers. Sigh, I'm only able to visit that Notre Dame in my
dreams. At least I can gaze upon the real thing. Luckily for us there was a
market right by Notre Dame. I picked up some final Christmas gifts for my slew
of chums back in the States and admired some of the various merchandise. My
favorite stand was one that sold garters. That's right, a garter stand. And
they were expensive too! Twenty euros for a garter, pretty steep guys.
Although, these garters were by far the most eccentric, exciting, and elegant
that I have ever seen. I've been garter shopping before, prom happened for me audience.
These were definitely wedding class with all their lace and ribbons. Too much
for prom, a least my prom. Truth be told I didn't spend more than five dollars
on the garter that I wore for prom; two reasons, it was prom and my date wasn't
worth that expense. Ouch, I'm cruel. Moving back to the present, now. That
wasn't the only "interesting" stand at the Notre Dame market. Right
next to the garter shop was a corset booth. Ah France you are funny. Little
children running around with candy in hand and Christmas in heart and you still
sell sexy lingerie that has nothing to do with the season as though it were
part of the holiday spirit. This is why you amuse me France, this is why.
Late Afternoon. Worst part about this section of the
hemisphere, sunshine in the morning with heavy rain hours later. Great. Ah
well, water won't hurt a handsome man or something like that. Sadly our little
group had moved on to the Odéon area in the hopes of seeing the Luxemburg
gardens. The sad part is that the gardens now close at 4:30 pm due to sunset being
earlier. We arrived at the gates right as the clock chimed 4:32 pm. Crap. We
decided that we would just head over to the designated restaurant for dinner,
we were hungry after a day of market browsing, but were stopped by a text
message. You see audience, the plan for today was to meet Paula in Paris. She
had arrived in Paris the night before and stayed with a French friend overnight.
Kate and I had presumed that Paula would be spending the day with us at the
markets, we presumed wrong. She slept in until around one, and became ready
around three, informing us at 4:37 pm that she will meet us for dinner at 6:00
pm. Would've been fine, sept for the location. You see the restaurant that we
were going to eat at has two locations in Paris. We were close to one, she was close
to the other. Guess which one we ended up at? Yeah the other which turned out
to be a pain in the ass to go to since the Metro decided to clog itself with
people. I must say, although harsh it is hilarious to see people squish onto
the subway at the very last second only to have their hand caught in the
automatic door. Harsh, of course, but slapstick hilarious.
Evening. We made it to the restaurant, which is in the
red-light region of Pigalle Paris, at 6:23 pm. We rushed too, but it was
alright. Paula wasn't there yet, and would be about twenty minutes late from
our arrival giving us some time to settle down. The name of the restaurant was
The Indiana Café. No audience, it was not decked out in IU hosier attire or
Cults banners. Rather it had pictures and trinkets of Native Americans to
appeal to its southwest style. And the French think that we're stupid. Well we
are, not all the time but America we fluke a lot especially with other cultures.
However, France flukes just as bad if not worse. You need only to look at a map
of the United States to see that the state Indiana is nowhere near the
southwest badlands; it is Midwest farms filled with hosiers. Plus let's tack on
the fact that there aren't any Indians, sorry Native Americans, in the state of
Indiana. No reservations, no tribes, no prominent Indian history. True that the
name of the state is derived from the word "Indian", but so are
almost all the others. Illinois is an Indian rooted name, apparently it’s the
French version of an Algonquin Indian word for "warriors" or
"tribe of superior men. Indiana along with many states had its name coined
from what the old tribes described the land as. Yes Indians lived all over the
states back in the day, but the idea of southwest Indian tribes that hunted
bison and had guerilla styled battles with cowboys is nowhere near Indiana.
This restaurant in short, completely rules. The food is fantastic, they have
that down fine. I had a very American and very "uncouth" dish as my dinner,
barbecue ribs and wings with potato wedges and coleslaw. Hell yeah. Jonathan
said something along the lines of, "your dinner is bigger than you
are!" I of course laughed at this and devoured my meal, all of it. Paula
made it before I finished my meal and commented on how well suited it was for
me. Yay the "we" has finally turned into four! It was good to see her
and her reaction to the restaurant. Pretty confident that she loved it, yeah
confident. After my amazing meal I had a lightish dessert of hot chocolate with
fresh whipped cream. That also kicked ass, but not as much as my meal. Why?
Well hot chocolate and cream are two things France does very well. It's no
surprise that the hot chocolate was wonderful, thus not as kickin'. Pictures
were taken, menus were stolen, and hands were scrubbed clean. Second best meal
of the semester*, and it wasn't even French.
Late Evening. Ok, here's where we, and by we I mean me,
screwed up. So the plan was to spend the day in Paris and take a train back to Le
Havre the same night. I had thought that there was a later train than 8:20 pm
that left St. Lazare for Le Havre. I thought wrong. Yeah, I really screwed that
one. You see audience I made the mistake of reading the arrival board rather
than the departure board. Sure there were trains from Le Havre arriving in
Paris after 8:20 pm, but none of them were going back until the morning. Crap!
Paula, Kate, and Jonathan somewhat freaked out in their own ways. Paula called
her French friend to see if she had a solution, Kate stood silently in shock,
and Jonathan leaned on the railing with a frown on his face. Internally the
word "fuck" was going through their minds. What did I do? What was my
reaction? I went to the bathroom, call of nature and whatnot. I actually was
very calm in the situation, the word fuck only went through my mind maybe six
times which is low for bad situations. I decided to call my parents and tell
them what happened because I was going to rent a room for Kate and me in Paris
for the night. After explaining what happened to my mother she gladly told me
that staying in a hotel was fine, no issue. Sweet, that was resolved quickly. I
told the group the good news and everyone did a sigh. The only snag was where
we were going to stay. Jonathan assisted with that one. Not too long ago he
stayed in a hotel in Nation called Hotel Cosy that was both reasonably priced
and rather nice. Again, sweet that was solved rapidly. Unfortunately every
situation, even when fixed, has its somber sides. Kate wasn't feeling too hot,
possibly from dinner or the amount of cotton candy that she had eaten earlier,
and need to reach a bed for some R&R. Thus we, now back to the three, all
said goodbye to dear Paula before departing for Nation. We made it to the hotel
in due time and had Kate in bed soon after check-in. The beds at Hotel Cosy are
amazing. My opinion of mattresses is skewed due to the sheer awfulness of my
bed in Le Havre, regardless these beds were plush and flexible. Finally I will
have a good night’s sleep, it's been too long. However, I didn't go to bed
right away, oh no. It was too early and I was thirsty. Time for a fruity drink.
Night. Once Kate was settled in the room, which was equipped
with twin beds, Jonathan and I left to go have a drink. Fortunately Hotel Cosy
has Café Cosy right next door, easy access and easy return. Good work guys.
Normally I'd have a beer or a basic vodka and coke, but I was feeling American
that night. Thus Pina Colada was served to me. Jonathan's face when I ordered it,
totally priceless. Hey, we all have our moments when we just want a taste of
home. I was concerned when the drink arrived for it had a glow stick in it. Yes
the glow stick was sealed and yes I wasn't poisoned. But it's still a tube with
toxic chemicals floating in my Pina Colada. A bit uncertain if you ask me.
Besides the poison stick that loves to illuminate the world with its green presence,
I enjoyed Café Cosy. Jonathan and I, the writing prudes that we are, discussed
literature over our drinks. I know, how dull of us. But why do you care
audience? You weren't forced to sit in on our dialogue exchanges, only forced
to read my sentences recalling the event. I'm glad I have a nerdy/remarkable
friend like Jonathan; it makes grammar, book, and blog chats both mutually
interesting and entertaining. True friendship right there.
Sleep. Although I coughed throughout a good chunk of the
night, definitely best sleep of the semester. Yeah, our dorm beds suck that
much. Tis all audience!
*The best meal was the dinner that Madame Racadot cooked for
me.
