I practically have to pry Tom out of bed, an activity that commences through out the trip. Sleepiness be damned, there are cities to be explored and winter does not give us much daylight.
Have breakfast at Dalliyou. Water is 6 euros and pain au chocolate is only 2 euros. Seems wrong for something that is both perfectly flaky, sweet and salty, and filled with dark delectable chocolate. My omelet duex fromage is 90% deux fromage 10% omelet. The jam melts in your mouth. French breakfast is incredible.
We are dropped off in front of the Eiffel Tower, as Julie & Maneesh hunt for a park to keep Ava occupied. The singular skyscraper stands out on the Paris skyline like the 2001 monolith. The lines are ridiculous so we opt for the stairs. Out of breath and hands smelling like metal we reach the 2nd observation deck. The winds are strong and refreshing. We are surrounded by many languages and great views. Why is it so fun to look down on cities from above?
While posing for photos, we find a little French school girls wallet. Julie plays the good Samaritan, as we return it. All the other school girls laugh, as the wallet owner keeps repeating "Merci Beaucoup!!" Ava must get her photo taken often, as she says "cheese" every time we point the camera near her.
Tummies grumble as we try and find a restaurant open for lunch on a Sunday, not such an easy task. 40 minute wait at Au Pied de Conchon. A table is stolen right out from under us at option #2. We settle for something less inspiring at Chez Palo. Snack on chevre mini-sandwiches, which would be delicious with ham, but the French wouldn't dare. They will dare to eat raw beef and egg, which Julie keeps threatening (jokingly) to make me try.
Tom has his first "biere", Grimbergen which is pure Belgium golden hops. Chardonnay is light and fruity and not oaked. We say farewell to Julie, but not before some last good advice and warnings about Burgundy wines and public restrooms. We are back to exploring on our own.
Tart au chocolate defeats American brownies. Pastries are art. Light drizzle doesn't stop us from wandering the streets, we need to remember an umbrella next time, but we try and keep our belongings light. At first we think the French rent-a-bike system is genius… you just grab a bike, and then return it wherever there is a stand, paying for the time you used. The catch is whether or not you can find a stand with an empty slot, and in busy areas, we watch the bike returners circle return stations like vultures.
There are car show rooms in the weirdest places, like outdoor shopping malls. We take a rest and watch teenage boys do tricks with their bikes. Find the tourist strip near Louvre with Paris shirts, cups, undies, you name it. Lines out the doors of the fancy restaurants. It's easy to tell the Americans from the Parisians as all the French girls are incredibly fashioned, yet practical with their flat heeled boots.
Little kids get pony rides on the grounds of the Louvre. There is a large carousel playing creepy French children's music, which would be perfect in a horror movie or video game… abandoned apocalyptic Paris and the carousel covered in dust comes on by itself.
It starts to rain before we get to the sculpture garden, so we hide under the mini Arc de Trioumphe. It keeps raining, so we camp out in an underground mall. Upon discovering umbrellas are $30 a pop, we decide to take our chances in the now light drizzle.
We say goodbye to the Louvre at night, as an opera singer performs in the courtyard. How perfect this place would be for a wine picnic. We walk towards Pont Neuf, and the shops along the river, boarded up for the evening, could easily be mistaken for dumpsters.
We wander the small streets of the 6th arrondisemont, which is the only place alive on a Parisian Sunday night. The cheese shop we wanted to visit is clothes, but we find a cute Spanish wine bar with fresh hambones in the window. We are in luck, because everything is exquisite. The olives taste like salty Jordan almonds, fresh nutty olive oil on crunchy warm bread, and the Italian ham is paper thin so it melts in your mouth.
The fresh manchengo is chewy and creamy against a sweet and savory cube of quince jam. It tastes amazing with both wines. Les Haut de Madon 2005 is a simple fun fresh cranberry with flowers that explodes on your palate. Domain de L'ile Porquerolles Cotes de Provence 2004 is richer and darker, a pepper raisin with a smoky berry finish. I wish I could find both the wine and quince jam in America, as they would make a winning pair at my holiday wine party. Although their coffee and our leftover tart au chocolat also make a winning pair!!
We walk back to our hotel, past where the fight was last night. Waldo stares back at me in the window of a bookshop, "Ou est Charlie?" Why change his name? Silly French. We fall asleep to a French murder mystery on TV.