Paris is perfect place to go if you want to run away from your problems (and your budget). The monotony of the Grève was beginning to get to me and seeing as how I don’t really have much obligation to hang around Nantes (its not like I have classes or anything), I decided to run away to Paris for the weekend. I packed a bag, hopped a train, and got to my friend Nicole’s apartment in the 1st arrondissement in Paris just in time for a fabulous cocktail party. The crowd was delightfully international (as was the booze) and rife with scarves, ray-bans, cigarettes, champagne, bangs, and all other things French. I feel like some people showed up just to be photographed, have a glass, and then leave.
Once the liquor ran out, everyone stumbled to a nearby nightclub to finish off the evening (morning) and get down on the dance floor.
The next day we arose from our slumber at around noon and had a delightful lunch at a sidewalk café, which was followed by shopping in the Marais. Later in the evening I met my half-sister Penni, her husband and their two kids for dinner at a wonderful Moroccan restaurant called 404. It took us forever to find it (mostly because we were circling a 2 block radius for about 45 minutes) but the food was outstanding (beautifully spiced cous-cous, tagines, and oriental pastries) and the décor was super chic (think exposed wood beams, stone walls, illumination by candle, and lots of intricately woven, luxurious fabrics). After dinner I met up with Nicole at her friend’s apartment near the Champs-Élysées for some conspiracy-theory movie watching (Zeitgeist), herbal refreshment, and general confusion and fatigue.
Oh, side-bar: Nicole decided to dog sit that weekend as well, so we spent the majority of the time worrying about this terrible golden lab puppy (it was actually super cute but it shit and pissed everywhere but out of doors). I just swore a lot while Nicole giggled and the dog wet itself out of shame and confusion. We decided that we weren’t thrilled with its given name so we called it “Boyfriend” for the weekend. Seriously the worst boyfriend we’ve ever had.
The next morning, before catching my train back to Nantes, I stopped off in the Saint-Germain des Près neighborhood to buy literally the BEST Macarons in all of Paris, at Gerard Mulot on Rue Seine. The Caramel ones are the best and you have to buy the large ones to get the full experience. The ooze factor when biting into the Macaron is much more pronounced with the “Grand” because there is more buttery, salty, smooth and velvety caramel to massage and pleasure every taste bud. But be careful, the sensory experience can be a little intense so I recommend enjoying them while either seated or leaning against something firm and solid (like a man. Actually I recommend leaning against a man whenever possible. Especially in Paris.)
After nabbing me some Macarons, I watched a street performer working wonders with a glass ball outside of Eglise Saint-Sulpice. I captured the magic on video for you lovely people to enjoy.
Grève Watch: The Grève is still on at my university (I believe its going on 6 weeks…) and there is a National Grève for all of France this Thursday the 19th. It really couldn’t get any Grève-ier.
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