A Moveable Feast

We arrived in Paris in the late afternoon and were pleased to find our flat was about a block away from the Bastille metro station. The number on the mailbox of our landlord was 7 so we walked up six flights of stairs with our bags, only to reach the top of the building (Joe refuses to use elevators most of the time). After confirming that the apartment was on the 3rd floor, we dropped our stuff off at what would be our home for the next week. We were immediately struck by how intelligent the tenant must be - bookshelves full of neuroscience and psychology books, Russian history textbooks, and endless amounts of classical music along with a piano that was obviously frequently used. He had noted that he didn't have anything expensive so he didn't mind leaving the key outside, but the apartment was loaded with technology. Joe tried to figure out the Apple TV box but my MacBook picked up the infrared remote control and anything Joe clicked on would open something on my computer, which was not amusing to me so his attempt ended quickly.

At the canal in Bastille about a block from our place

First stop was the grocery store down the street - because we actually had a kitchen! When checking out, we discovered that we must weigh the produce ourselves and put stickers on each individual item before taking it to the register, but we managed after some initial confusion. We walked back to our flat to discover the entrance to the building locked - uh oh. Without any wifi signal to search the emails for assistance and a failed attempt to get into the courtyard, we got the attention of our landlord's neighbor, who attempted to yell the code down to us, but the similarly sounding 'trois' and 'A' proved to be an issue. He was kind enough to come let us in (praise the Flying Spaghetti Monster) and after some investigating we found the code written down. An hour in Paris and already two problems overcome. We were on a roll.

In desperate need of some food, we strolled across the canal in search of a bistro that Joe had found online. We successfully navigated and found the bistro (yay), which was closed (boo). Both of us were quite hungry so we wandered a few blocks looking at menus for a reasonably priced dinner. After finally agreeing on a restaurant, we sat down and realized it was an Italian restaurant. We were certainly missing the French experience so far but it was too late to change our minds. We ate, we drank, we went back to the flat and planned the rest of our week in Paris.

The next morning started with breakfast at home before heading to the Pere Lachaise cemetery, where Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde, among others, are buried. The cemetery is huge, overcrowded and apparently prestigious. In order to be interred there, your family must pay a fee each decade or the coffin is removed and relocated to make space for someone who can pay. From there we hit up the Richard Lenoir market, which takes up two city blocks in Bastille every Thursday morning, to pick up lunch. With food in hand, we headed to Luxembourg Gardens for a picnic of bread, cheese, salami, grapes, and wine. This picnic combination has been repeated twice a week since then. The Gardens are immaculately maintained and a perfect place to spend the afternoon.

After walking the majority of the property, we were off to Monmartre in northern Paris to climb to the Sacre Coeur. The view of Paris from the church is unbeatable and the building itself is very impressive. Before heading home, we stopped by Moulin Rouge and saw the famous red windmill. Sadly, neither Nicole Kidman nor Ewan McGregor were there that day but Joe did get pooped on by a bird, which was an acceptable consolation for entertainment. 

On the way up to Sacre Coeur

Cleaning off the pigeon poop

We stopped by a patisserie for our dinner of sugar before searching for a coffee shop. Paris is surprisingly lacking in places to get good coffee, which was a frustration for the entire stay. We ended up at a cafeteria-type place for mediocre espresso where we met three outgoing French women. I got the gypsy vibe from them but they were nice enough and we worked through our mutual language barriers to explain where we were from, what we were doing there, and what our plans were afterwards. They reminded us to be mindful of pickpockets and even offered us some of their Slavic dinner, but we had to retreat after they lit up their tenth cigarette, which were making me incredibly nauseous.

The third day in Paris started at the famed Catacombs. We showed up 30 minutes before it opened and still waited two hours before entering, which is typical of this attraction. The underground network is made up of limestone quarries that were used to build a large portion of the buildings in the city. Later, the space was commissioned for the storage of human remains after the cemeteries became a health hazard. Over 6 million bones are contained in the Catacombs and they aren't sure exactly how far the tunnels reach. It is certainly a creepy place to walk through as you pass pile after pile of bones that once belonged to Parisians. After resurfacing, we walked across the love lock bridge where people have written their names or initials on padlocks and then attached them to the bridge, throwing the key in the river. There are people set up across the bridge selling padlocks for 5-10€ with signs declaring 'Throw away the key and show her you love her.' Joe refused to partake in the ritual, which can only mean that he doesn't truly love me. What is 5€ compared to the knowledge that our lock will be there forever? But 5€ can buy coffee and ice cream, which are much more meaningful in my book anyway.

Dem bones, dem bones

Friday night was our first of two at Rock en Seine, a musical festival held at Parc du St. Cloud on the outskirts of the city. The grounds are the former estate of Marie Antoinette and other various royals and feature ancient looking statutes and waterfalls. It's hard to imagine that the architects would approve of thousands of concert goers descending upon the park each year drinking heavily and making a mess. We made our way to see Tame Impala's underwhelming performance. Both of us agreed that the set list was chosen poorly so what could have been incredible ended up being just alright. After that, we caught part of Alt-J, a British band that is making huge strides in popularity right now. Being a relatively new band, they put on a show that definitely created some fans. Back on the main stage, we saw Franz Ferdinand, who are seasoned rockers and knew exactly how to win the crowd over. They of course played 'Take Me Out,' one of the best dance songs around. The last show of the night for us was Kendrick Lamar, who suffered from technical difficulties and was without sound for at least half an hour. We skipped the headlining DJ that night due to lack of interest and instead missed the crowd traveling back to the city.

At the entrance of Rock en Seine

Some of the remaining statues at Parc du St. Cloud

I can't resist free things. Iced tea AND yellow sunglasses?? Score.

We began our museum circuit on Saturday, starting at the Pantheon. The building was under renovation so there wasn't a lot to see with the exception of the crypts where Voltaire and Marie and Pierre Curie are buried. Nerd alert. Next we stopped by St. Chapelle, a gorgeous cathedral that was built to house the remaining artifacts from the crucifixion, which cost more than the actual church. There are two levels that were used to separate the royalty from the peasants during worship, the upper chamber having intricate stained glass walls that depict entire books of the Bible. Next door was the Conciergerie, a large prison that held people awaiting execution, mostly those who were perceived to be against the Revolution, including Marie Antoinette. The 'security' checkpoint confiscated Joe's corkscrew upon entering the building (he had a knife in the same backpack) and made us check it during the visit. After a brief snack and coffee on the bridge, we headed to the Centre Pompidou, Paris's modern art museum. The building is unique and features tubes along the exterior with escalators to the various galleries. We had a limited amount of time before we had to head back to Parc du St. Cloud so we spent our time on the Modern Level, which featured Picasso and Rembrandt among others. It was definitely one of our favorite museums. 

The exterior of the Pompidou

Looking regal at the Pantheon

We had to cut our Pompidou visit short since we had to venture back to Parc du St. Cloud for Rock en Seine round 2. The metro was conveniently closed at the stop we needed so we were booted off the train and found ourselves staring at the instruction screens with limited ideas on how to proceed. Luckily, we were joined by a number of non-French speakers and together we figured out which bus we needed and where it was. International teamwork for the win! The bus was quite full by the time we got to the venue - at one point, we passed a man leaving the grocery store who could not stop laughing at the sight of the bus. He thought it was very amusing to see all of us crammed in there. We arrived and headed straight to the stage to see Wavves, a pop-punk band from the U.S. Joe was excited to get into the mosh pit for the first time in years, and I was pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed their set (from outside the mosh pit, of course). As soon as they ended, there was a mass migration to the main stage where Nine Inch Nails would be performing. I stayed in the crowd for a few songs but ultimately found refuge off to the side where I could sit down with some fellow mellow comrades. I could see the stage and the light show was awesome even from my spot. Joe thought the set was incredibly well performed, which was evidenced by the fact that Trent Reznor was dripping with sweat after about song number two. The French crowd was much tamer for NIN than expected, with Reznor calling them 'more civilized than what we're used to.'

We found each other again after the set and grabbed a snack of frites before heading straight back to the stage to claim a spot for Phoenix. It being a homecoming show for the band (from Versailles), I can't imagine that we will see Phoenix at the same level again. The show was amazing from start to finish. It started sprinkling near the end of the set and the rain in the stage lights looked like an optical illusion. They also shot confetti out of cannons and thousands of fake Francs came floating down on us. The lead singer crowdsurfed all the way to the sound stage, right where we were, and climbed up to thank the crowd. Overall, a phenomenal performance.

Since they were headlining that night, the entirety of the crowd was going to the metro. As the rain picked up, we skipped the closest stop and headed towards the next one a little less than a mile away. By the time we got to the station, we were cold and tired and ready for bed. The first train came and was already packed, so some brave souls squeezed in but we opted to wait for the next one, hoping there was more room. Those of us who waited erupted in cheers as the next train pulled up virtually empty. Patience is a virtue. A group of guys next to us spontaneously sang the French version of 'In the Jungle' and I thought about how thrilled my dad would have been to join in and sing loudly with these strangers. We finally got back to the flat and fell into bed, happy to be out of the rain and off our feet.

The sign of a successful concert