France
This page is full of excerpts from my two previous sojourns in Paris during the summers of 2007 and 2008. Summer 2007 was my first trip abroad and was a study program through my university, and Summer 2008 was my first time traveling solo on a research fellowship.
The comments at the beginning of each entry are reflections on my experiences, and this page is full of relevant information for any female traveler, solo traveler, lover of all things Paris, or arm-chair traveler who wants to spend a little time in this world. Welcome and Enjoy!
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Petit Paris Guide
Here are several things to help you through your adventures in Paris.
1. Short-Term Apartment Renting Instead of the Hotel (see post).
Three excellent services: Paris Address, Paris Ambiance, and Haven in Paris.
2. Take Advantage of Happy Hour in Paris (typically from 6-8pm; see post).
Some of my favorite bars: Num, Le Fumoir, La Rhumerie
3. Paris Museums
Some of my favs: Musee du Louvre, Musee d’Orsay, Musee Guimet, Musee Cernuschi, Musee Rodin, Musee l’Orangerie
4. Restaurants/Cafes
Le Cabaret, Au Pied de Cochon, Num, Le Nemrod, Le Petit Lux
5. Coffee and Tea
Cafes Richard and Mariage Freres
6. Gelato
7. Shopping
Coming soon.
McDonalds in Paris: One of the few places open on Sundays:
Once I got settled in and unpacked, I was ready to explore. Unfortunately, I had not considered the fact that I was arriving on a Sunday afternoon (almost everything in Paris is closed on Sundays, certainly after mid-morning). This would not have been an issue if I hadn’t needed a meal. After walking what felt like forever (multiplied by the jetlag), I found it, the one place that was inexpensive and open: McDo (the French slag for McDonalds). I must admit that eating my Filet-O-Fish, even in Paris, alone at a crowded restaurant was not heartening. I began to think “what have I gotten myself in to?”. (June 2, 2008)
Chantilly aka The Town of Whipped Cream outside of Paris:
From the train station to the Chateau was supposed to be about a thirty minute walk, at least that is what the official Chateau Chantilly website had said. We considered taking the bus, but alas no bus or bus stop could be found. So, off we went a pied (on foot). We thought to ourselves “Well, maybe the website says 30 minutes, but that is probably an overestimate for the out-of-shape touristy types. Considering that we are two young women, we can probably do it in 15 or 20.” No. Thirty minutes meant thirty minutes in the hot sun. France does not compensate. In France, people at our fitness level are very much the norm. However, walking meant that we got to explore. Something that would have been impossible on the bus or in a taxi. (June 2, 2008)
French Public Behavior is NOT the Same as American:
I had forgotten some of the typical Parisian behaviors: the French are not afraid of eye-contact with strangers (to the point of starring), French couples are extremely affectionate (even in public), and the French do not have the American concept of personal space (aka the invisible bubble). (June 2, 2008)
The Plight of the American Tourist in Paris:
Well, if someone was going to mess up, of course it had to be the American tourist. There have been so many times the last few days that I’ve wanted to say “Oui, je suis une touriste americaine” (Yes, I am an American tourist), as if that would explain it all. (June 2, 2008)
The Intrigue of les desserts:
I have to say that one of my favorite things of the weekend though, and Paris in general, was the amazing pastries! Between gelato, coffee, and pastries…I may never want to leave. One of my favorites was a raspberry tart that I picked up Sunday at a nearby patisserie. Absolutely exquisite! (June 10, 2008)
East Meets West in Paris:
It is a particularly special treat to see the contrast of Renaissance architecture (The Louvre was originally constructed in the Middle Ages; however, it underwent renovations in the late 16th and early 17th centuries) and I.M. Pei’s glass pyramid (constructed in the 1980′s). This juxtaposition creates intense visual interest and symbolizes the meeting of L’Occident and L’Orient (West and East) and the culmination of cultures that can only be represented through such a grandiose collection as the Louvre’s.How fitting for my topic of chinoiserie: the meeting of the East and West and how this interaction affected the art of the period. (June 18, 2008)
Not Asking for Directions:
Like I said above, I knew that I would have to take a train from Paris to Besancon. So, being the planner that I am, I scheduled the trip for a particular weekend during my stay and booked the train tickets and hotel online before leaving the States. Probably a little cautious (although I didn’t think so at the time) and unnecessary because you can buy your tickets at the station up until minutes before the train departs (sometimes this is a good way to get good deals). However, my “worrier side” was pacified.
So, I got up excruciatingly early (5:30am) the morning of my trip. This would allow me to get on the metro by 7am and be at the station an hour early. This accounted for any potential problems that I might run into along the way (i.e. metro running late, metro car breaking down, not being able to find my platform, something wrong with my tickets, etc.). I had thought of almost all possible situations. One thing I had no apprehensions about though- finding the train station (la gare in French). I knew that my train departed out of Gare de Lyon. I had been by it tons of times (it is on the way to the BNF), and in Paris, popular destinations (like museums, libraries, monuments) are always extremely well marked. Even the metro stop to get there was fittingly titled Gare de Lyon. No problem, right? Well, if anyone is going to run into an issue, it would be me. Since I had planned for everything else to go wrong, I was probably asking for it.
So, I arrive at the metro stop Gare de Lyonand get off looking for the exit pointing in the direction of the gare. There isn’t one. I think, “that’s fine, I’ll guess”. Of course I don’t follow the other people with luggage because I am a self-proclaimed pro at finding anything in Paris. Instead, I guess. Guessing allows me to keep my pride. Guessing also wastes 20 minutes of my hour “cushion-time”, which are filled instead of walking up and down a deserted street carrying two extremely heavy bags (around then, I greatly regretted the books, binders, and other paperwork I had felt were “necessary” and packed the night before).
Finally, defeated, I decided to pull out the map (something I despise doing in public). There was the gare right next to the metro stop, right where I had just come from. But why couldn’t I see it?! So, I returned to the site of the “invisible” gare, debating all the while if I should ask someone. I had already walked past the same spots several times and was becoming a source of entertainment for some of the local construction workers. Suddenly, I see a deserted set of stairs. What are the chances? No signs, no nothing. I decide to chance it and pray that I am right so that the workers don’t have to watch me walk up and down this random set of stairs for no apparent reason. Luckily, that doesn’t happen, because upon ascending, I discover that I have indeed found the gare. What’s more, my pride isn’t completely deflated because at least I didn’t have to ask someone “ou se trouve la gare?” (and they say that men are bad about asking directions). (June 21, 2008)
France Outside of Paris:
I have been in Besancon for half an hour and already I am loving it. Two things I have noticed, one there are many more elderly and children here as opposed to Paris, and two, people greet you with a smile. I think to myself, “What a great and much needed change. These next couple days are going to be great.”As I was waiting for my meal, two elderly gentlemen took a table near mine. They were probably in their 70s, and it seemed as if lunching here was part of their weekly ritual. The shopkeepers greeted them with a since of familiarity and respect reserved for only the most loyal of customers. They were very curious about me- a young woman sitting alone. However, they were either too shy or too prideful to ask any questions. They didn’t feel it was out of the ordinary though to shoot glances in my direction every few minutes. Once they even get up the courage to ask me “Bon appetit?”.
Shortly after our brief exchange, a man behind me, whom I hadn’t noticed before then, asked if I have a cell phone. I cautiously reply that I don’t. Something about his air didn’t seem quite right. Apparently, the two older men agreed because they kept shooting him scathing looks. They were my gallant protectors (oddly, they reminded me of two of the seven dwarfs in their hunched stature and expressive faces). Sure enough, I was right about the strange man. Even the owners seemed ready to be rid of him. He tried to get my attention another time and then settled on muttering to himself. I am sure that the scowls of my new friends helped. I was already feeling like a part of the community in Besancon. This is something that would continue throughout my trip. (June 21, 2008)
Behind the Scenes at the Fine Arts Museum:
While I had been waiting in the foyer for Mme Courtet to arrive that morning, I had seen a post card for James Tissot’s Le Petit Nimrod. My freshman year, I wrote my first semester-long research project on this piece and the effect of the contemporary thought on its iconography. Since then, I have always loved Tissot and his entire oeuvre (however, this piece holds a special place in my heart). I am guessing that during my research, I had found that the painting was in Besancon. However, that would have meant little to me at the time. I knew that I hadn’t seen the piece on display in the museum’s permanent collections the day before. So, I decided to take a chance and ask Mme Courtet about it. I told her that I had written a text on its iconography, and she was very interested. She told me that the piece was currently off of display due to the temporary exhibition, but that she would try and find it for me to see.
They store all of the paintings off of display in a large space with a loft. There were paintings upon paintings stacked up. She was worried that she might not be able to find it, and obviously it wouldn’t have been safe for her and I to try and move any of the works ourselves (they are large and should only be handled by professionals). Luckily, when we entered the upstairs loft, there it was, larger than I had imagined, in front of all the other works (see photo, I took a picture of the post card after I bought it). The only thing better than getting to see this work in the museum was getting to see it in the reserve room away from all of the other visitors and the structured setting of a museum.It was surreal. My first love and my first subject as an art historian. I will cherish that moment always. Who knew that my adventure on the Richter more than two years after my original exposure to this piece would bring me right back to James Tissot and the iconography of the “Other”. The centerpieces of my two greatest works of research Tissot’s Le Petit Nimrodand Boucher’s La Tenture Chinoise housed by the same museum! What are the chances?! (June 21, 2008)
Why Le Marais Enchants Tourists and Locals Alike:
Le Marais is one of my favorite districts in Paris. It seems to offer everything: fabulous shopping, quaint cafes, historic monuments, masterpiece museums, and tons of cultural diversity. In addition, it is one of those parts of Paris that no matter how much time you spend there, every trip you are bound to find something new. (June 22, 2008)
The Romanticized Paris Lives:
The Eiffel Tower is personally once of my favorite places in Paris. That probably sounds bizarre considering that I have spent so much time in this city, but there is something magical about the Eiffel Tower for me. It represents the iconic and idealized Paris of my childhood, and even when I visit it now, the images of Paris as a place of unparalleled mystery and intrigue reemerge. (June 22, 2008)
Cafe Culture in Paris:
So, I ordered my usual cafe viennois and watched the morning pass. If you haven’t heard, cafes are an institution in Paris.My line above about “grab[ing] a coffee” was probably very misleading. No one “grabs” a coffee in France. Instead you “take” a coffee. This means that if you go to a cafe and order a coffee be prepared to sit for at least an hour. You don’t just drink your coffee and run. Even if you are alone, you sit and enjoy it (usually while reading Le Figaro or Le Monde, two of France’s most popular newspapers). (June 23, 2008)
