Paris Trip Day 22

Tuesday. I spent the day in the hostel because of bad weather, which is okay by me, since I love it here and Paris in general. I wanted to print my resume at the hostel, but they only print .pdfs. The hostel management told me the location of an internet place where I can print it, near Abbesses metro. I told them I have already been walking around there and I don’t remember seeing it. They further explained its location. They are so patient with me. They really try to help travelers in every way they can. I wonder if I’ve told them enough how much I appreciate their information and their patience.

I walked around and had to double back; the view of the internet place was obstructed by Christmas kiosks; I had to peer around the kiosks to find it.

You might have to look a little harder for shops and the like during Christmas time. Not that there's anything wrong with that!

You might have to look a little harder for shops and the like during Christmas time. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!

It was a very small place, and people from all age groups were there using computers. The guy in charge told me which computer to use, since most of them were in French. I brought up my resume from my USB stick – I was a little amazed the Fancy Boy Idiots hadn’t erased it – but then the screen froze when I tried to save it after making a small change before I printed it. The guy in charge came over and tried to help me; as soon as he cleared the screen freeze, my resume was gone. He looked for it on my USB stick, in the computer’s trash, on the hard drive….it simply disappeared. If I’m not mistaken, it is possible to infect a document with a virus or a worm (I’m not exactly sure what a worm is) that makes the document disappear upon opening it or trying to save it.

I opened the file containing my resume and-BAM!--it disappeared.

I opened the file containing my resume and–BAM!–it disappeared.

I started to curse under my breath about how much I hate the FBI, and to my utter amazement, people around me smiled and laughed in solidarity: one French woman spoke for all of them, “We don’t have a high opinion of the FBI.” I was stunned, yet I couldn’t help smiling. The French people don’t like the FBI, either: I never would have guessed. One woman gave me her name and phone number and told me I could call her if I thought she could help me. Still, I don’t know that I’ll be able to post resume on leboncoin.fr. to apply for English teaching jobs. Just what the Fancy Boy Idiots wanted.

The hostel's cappuccino may not be as frothy as this, but as a traveler, I've learned to be thankful for what is available.

The hostel’s cappuccino may not be as frothy as this, but as a traveler, I’ve learned to be thankful for what is available.

I went back to Plug-Inn, had a cappuccino (or three!), and worked on recreating my resume. (My Hotmail account is conveniently frozen, or I would be able to print a resume from it.) When I exclaimed how much I love the cappuccino from the machine, the manager told me she wouldn’t drink it, and proceeded to show me a picture of the type of cappuccino she is used to (in Italy, I believe). I smiled in understanding. Then I told her that I’ve learned to enjoy what I have at that moment: Like, if I go camping and have instant coffee, I don’t usually have instant coffee at home, but while camping, outside in the great outdoors, it’s all I have, and I can appreciate that. After our discussion on the fine points of caffeinated drinks, the manager told me she would help me with the application process on leboncoin.fr to apply for English teaching jobs once I get my resume squared away. She is so sweet. She is very business-minded, and I understand why she wants to keep the boundaries very clear between guests and management. Still….her heart, like that of everyone else who works at Plug-Inn Hostel, shows.

 

Salut !

 

Image of rainy day in Paris by Can Stock Photo. Image of woman angry with computer by Can Stock Photo. Image of Paris metro at Christmas by David Sifry, Flickr, CCBY 2.0. Image of Vancouver cappuccino by Gord McKenna, Flickr, CCBY 2.0.

Paris Trip Day 20

The western facade of Notre Dame de Paris.

The western facade of Notre Dame de Paris.

Sunday. I got up early, ate breakfast, and left for Mass at Notre Dame. The line to get in was so long! Like a rock concert! It was a beautiful Mass, but the schedule I have says it was supposed to be in English; it wasn’t. It felt good to be in God’s House. There were a lot of people there from all over the world. People were turning around as if they wanted to watch the organ playing. I sat as close to the front as I could. Just before the service started, someone came and told me to pick up my bag so it wouldn’t be in the way. (I wanted to ask, In the way of what?) I took some pictures outside of Notre Dame and milled about for a while. It was so peaceful I hated to leave. At the back of Notre Dame there were a couple of machines to buy souvenir coins of the church. I believe I know two people who might like one so I bought a couple.

A statue of King Charlemagne outside Notre Dame de Paris. King Charlemagne, also known as Charles the Great and the “Father of Western Europe,” united most of Western Europe for the first time since the Roman Empire.
An interior view of the north transept rose.

I then went to the Latin Quarter where there was a lot of activity. Especially on a Sunday, many people had the same idea. There are so many interesting shops and restaurants and bistros and bakeries….you can’t see them all during one trip. A few restaurateurs beckoned me to try their restaurant as I walked by. I just smiled and said, “Bonjour!” After walking a lot, I went to Shakespeare and Company……what a place!  It was so cozy; one could read for hours there, there are so many nooks and crannies and old chairs to sit in. I found a pocket book on French for English speakers. I chatted with the cashier who said she was originally from England. I told her how much I love Paris and would like to stay. She said that since she lives in the EU it is easier to get a Visa to stay in Paris.

The Latin Quarter in Paris.
Shakespeare and Company, near the Latin Quarter.

It was very cold today – too cold to wear just a cape. (I forgot to pick up my coat at the dry cleaner’s.) I hurriedly went to a café and had French Onion soup and 2 espressos; the French Onion soup was the best I’ve ever had (she says, nonchalantly). There, I met an American ex-pat who was having lunch with a friend; she told me she would probably never return to the States, she loves being in Paris that much. We talked about current political situations in France and the States. She said she doesn’t miss all of the drama of the U.S. press, which we both agreed loves to rehash a story over and over and over again, which France decidedly does not do, much to our delight.canstockphoto16374112

Since it was so cold and I didn’t have my heavy coat, I decided to go back to the hostel. I found out I could move back to my favorite room (!), so I did. I reorganized yet again. I read more of Elvis: My Best Man. I’m so glad I decided to read it, because I’m learning the truth of what Elvis was really like. In addition, it has been brought home to me even more how the press can ruin a person’s character, which I believe now often happens because it makes for a good story. How horrible. I worked out for a short while. I’ll read for a few more minutes and call it a night.

Salut !

The King, Elvis Presley. May he rest in peace.

The King, Elvis Presley. May he rest in peace.

 

Image of Latin Quarter, Shakespeare and Company, and coffee signs by Can Stock Photo. Image of Elvis Presley by Luiz Fernando Reis, courtesy of Flickr, CCBY 2.0. All other images by Elsa L. Fridl.

Paris Trip Day 17

Champs-Elysees at night. The Ferris Wheel at the Place de la Concorde is visible in the background.

The Champs-Elysees at night. The Ferris Wheel at the Place de la Concorde is visible in the background.

Thursday. Thanksgiving 2014. I am very grateful to be in Paris regardless, but I am also thankful to be away from all the drama in the States. Chuck Hagel was forced to resign as Defense Secretary—I wonder what that means for my situation. (He was enlisted in the U.S. Air Force.) Seems like a lot of plot points are changing – like Connie Stinson – oh, excuse me – the REVEREND DR. Connie Stinson – resigning from the D.C. Baptist Convention before she became its president. Enquiring minds want to know!

I’ve used the day so far to plan what else I will do, making sure I make the most of free/almost free things. There is a still a lot I’d like to do, but I’m being mindful of going to London for a day or two. I’m not really looking forward to it. I love being here. I love the French people and everything about their culture…I am truly in heaven. It isn’t that I haven’t had a bad or unpleasant experience here; it’s that an unpleasant experience here is easier to tolerate.

I need to see if I can print and/or redo my CV and apply to a few places, perhaps at Sephora, and of course, to teach English. The computers at Plug-Inn Hostel will only print .pdf documents. I’m not going to plan my trip to London much, except for what I will say on my placard at Buckingham Palace.

Paris restaurant.

I believe one reason French people are more physically fit than Americans is because they savor food. When you eat slow, you eat less.

Rick Steves says that American ex-pats in Paris during the holidays all tend to go to a shop named Thanksgiving to get cranberries and boxes of stuffing on Thanksgiving Day. (Nothing like a little solidarity on an American holiday.) I thought of going there just to be part of the excitement and to see other American ex-pats. I decided, instead, to have a Thanksgiving meal after all. I went to Le Basilic again (4th time!) and had veal with green beans in mushroom sauce, a glass of Pinot Noir, coffee and chocolate mousse. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Le Basilic should be at least a 3-star restaurant, it is soooooooooo good. And who can complain about the service? They check in with me from time to time to see if I need anything else while allowing me to enjoy the experience. As Rick Steves says, once you get a table for dinner at a restaurant in Paris, it is essentially yours for the night. Tips are included in the bill, so there’s no rushing you out the door. It also makes for more relaxed servers: they know they’re getting paid. The U.S. should adopt this philosophy with servers.

I purchased a black cape similar to this one in Paris. When a woman feels elegant, she carries herself elegantly.

I purchased a black cape similar to this one in Paris. When a woman feels elegant, she carries herself elegantly.

I decided to buy the cape I saw, since it has been a lifelong dream to buy a cape in Paris since I first saw one at Garfinckel’s so many years ago. I love it!!! I feel so feminine in it!! And my Cache pants fit! It was a magnificent night, probably around 57 degrees Fahrenheit. I LOVE the energy of Paris at night. People feel so alive: it’s in their faces and their body language. Many people are with their significant other. Love is in the air. The lights are beautiful. I didn’t want to go back to the hostel, I wanted to feel that energy from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and in my bones.

The energy of Paris at night.

I love the energy of Paris at night.

Finally, my bones said, “Enough already! We need some sleep!” So I took the metro and went back to Plug-Inn Hostel. I crawled into bed with a huge smile on my face.

 

Salut !

 

 

 

 

Image of Champs-Elysees and restaurant by Can Stock Photo. Image of Vintage Black Cape by CastawayVintage, Flickr, CCBY 2.0. Image of energy of Paris at night by Elsa L. Fridl.

Paris Trip Day 16

Taking pictures in Paris.

Wednesday. I woke up feeling happy. I savored breakfast, had a shower, and simply started to walk. I walked for a mile or two taking pictures and enjoying the moment; and, once again, I followed signs and walked to Champs-Elysees, where I spent just a moment in Sephora to see how much Dior Skin costs. I found a cape I like at a nearby shop…oh my goodness…since working at Garfinckel’s (my store!), I’ve had a secret, life-long desire to buy a cape in Paris! I’ll have to think about it.

I ducked into McDonald’s to use the bathroom. Sometimes I feel a little like George Costanza, always knowing and thinking about where the public restrooms are. I was tired from walking again. I thought long and hard about whether I should buy the cape while I was on my way back to the hostel. I was too tired to exercise.

It pays to know where the McDonald's restaurants are in Paris since they have public restrooms.

It pays to know where the McDonald’s restaurants are in Paris since they have public restrooms.

 

 

 

 

Salut !

 

 

 

 

Photographer image by Can Stock Photo. McDonald’s image on the Champs-Elysees by Shunsuke Kobayashi, Flickr, CCBY 2.0.

Paris Trip Day 13

The Eiffel Tower, a catalyst for joy.

The Eiffel Tower is viewed by the world-over as a symbol of France. I have come to view it as also a catalyst for joy.

Sunday. I walked along the Seine River after taking the #30 bus to Trocedero again. I soaked up the energy near the Eiffel Tower and had a take-away sandwich. I love watching people in their excitement being at the Eiffel Tower: they all have such joy on their faces. There are now large stones in front of E.T. that people can stand on and take selfies (what a word!) or regular pictures. I went to the top of the Eiffel Tower again. (!) It never gets boring. It is so awe-inspiring. The views are so gorgeous.

An aerial view of the City of Paris as seen from the Eiffel Tower.

An aerial view of the City of Paris as seen from the Eiffel Tower.

After the Eiffel Tower, I started my journey to the slip of my dinner cruise. I looked and looked and looked and didn’t see what the gentleman from Le Capitaine Fracasse spoke of, a part jutting out from the Seine River, meaning their slip. A French couple saw my distress and offered to help me find the slip. We found it in plenty of time and I waited in line. I struck up a conversation with an American couple. They were here on business and decided to take some vacation time to see Paris. One thing I’ve noticed: Paris brings out the joy in people, because the tourists I speak to all seem to be in great moods, even serene. The line started to get lonnngggggggg; glad I got there early. When I was asked where I wanted to sit I said that I wanted to sit near a window, and I was told it would be an extra 10 euros for a better view. I said no thanks, as I reflected on Rick Steves’ description of the dinner cruise in which he said to “get there early for good seating;” there was no mention of paying more for a good seat. Then I was seated by myself in full view of a rowdy party, and patrons were using my table as a shortcut to get to their table. I nearly left. After all, a dinner cruise isn’t just about the food: the atmosphere is part of what you pay for. First I moved my table next to the table next to me, and a server smiled in recognition of how I was keeping patrons from brushing past me. (Since he saw my distress, why didn’t he seat me somewhere else?) Then I asked if I could sit farther in the back since there was so much space available. (The ship was at most half-full.) I sat next to a French couple who didn’t take their eyes off of each other. I could not believe that this petite woman ate EVERYTHING presented to her, as thin as she was. She ate basically what I did: a tray of 3 appetizers, (including Foie des Grais, which I didn’t eat), fish with potatoes in a light sauce, a tray of 3 desserts, including a puff pastry that was out of this world, and wine and espresso. Culinary heaven.

A Capitaine Fracasse dinner cruise is an elegant way to experience the views along the Seine River.

A dinner cruise is an elegant way to experience the views along the Seine River.

When I disembarked and started to walk, I felt so alive! I happened to exclaim to no one in particular what a beautiful night it was. The response of a French couple who got off the same dinner cruise: “Of course, you’re in Paris!”

I got back to the hostel and found I had a new roommate. I floated off to sleep.

Salut !

 

 

 

Images of Eiffel Tower and Eiffel Tower view by Elsa L. Fridl. Image of dinner cruise on Seine River by Can Stock Photo.

Paris Trip Day 7

Sexy man_canstockphoto17460126

I woke up in a mixed dorm with a man’s torso in my field of vision. Ooh la la!

Monday. I had to switch rooms because a group was coming in and they would need to stay together in my favorite room, the only room with 5 beds. (Violet gets to stay since she is only here for one more day.) I stayed in a mixed dorm and I woke up with a man’s torso in my field of vision! Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. The people in this room were all one group, and I waited for them to leave before I showered so as to stay out of their way. No sooner did I get dressed that my favorite chamber maid told me I could go back to my favorite room.

After I moved back to Violet’s room, she and I had another great conversation. It was great talking to someone who is so informed and knowledgeable about current issues facing her own nation and elsewhere. I asked her if she wanted to go for lunch or dinner. We decided to meet up at 7:00 P.M. for dinner. I told her how good the food is at Le Basilic and how large the portions are, including the appetizers.

On my way to buy some weights to use at the hostel.

I took this while on my way to buy some weights to use at the hostel.

Nicdadya told me where I can get some free weights so I can exercise while I am here. I went to get my weights from Decalthon near Ternes Metro. I bought 2 3kg (7 lbs.) weights: they’re perfect for what I want (lunges, squats, arm exercises, standing abdominals). I’ll probably start working out tomorrow. Violet thinks I’m making quite a commitment in getting weights to work out with, but I told her I can’t go for a whole month without exercising. They also didn’t cost much. Besides, I rest better after I exercise, and unfortunately, as much as walking tires me out, it isn’t enough to keep the weight off. And I just KNOW that all of the croissants and good French food I’ll be eating here will be taking its toll on my waistline, as it is.

Violet and Elsa talking at Le Basilic_canstockphoto13041679

Elsa and Violet at Le Basilic.

Violet and I went to Le Basilic (my third time) and we continued our great conversation. She asked me what made me make this place “my place” that I wanted to come back to again and again. I told her that while I found it a short distance from the hostel, I want to keep coming back because the food and service is so good. It’s funny, I was a bit startled by her asking me what I thought. Many times people talk to me because they want advice; people don’t often just talk to me because they want to know what I think. It was also nice to talk to an intelligent woman, because although I generally prefer a man’s company, I miss having woman friends like I used to have. There has been a real give-and-take to our conversations. Although I warned her that the portions here are quite large, tsk tsk, she didn’t listen. She ordered two appetizers as her meal and could barely finish one. She offered me some of the second one. I knew it would be hard for me to finish what I had ordered, so I only took a bite or two.  I’m sorry she’s leaving tomorrow.

I set up my SkillPages page in an effort to teach English here.

 

Salut !

 

Image of Paris architecture by Elsa L. Fridl. All other images by Can Stock Photo.

Happy Halloween!

Cats freely wander Pere Lachaise cemetery where they keep the dead company.

Cats freely wander Pere Lachaise Cemetery where they keep the dead company.

Paris and cats, cats and Paris…the two just go together.

 

Source: bonjourparis.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Halloween! If you want to be in the spirit of this day, but like me, you don’t enjoy getting scared, today I’m sharing a photo essay on cats in Paris from a little earlier this year, courtesy of bonjourparis.com.

 

Au revoir !

 

Cat at Grave by Daniel Racovitan, Flickr, CCBY 2.0.