The Bold Soul: A Writer's Life in Paris

Le Procope

Le Procope is the oldest restaurant in Paris and dates to 1686. It boasts an illustrious clientele, including Benjamin Franklin, Victor Hugo, Voltaire, Balzac, Danton and even a young Lieutenant Napoleon. When I came to Paris in 2001 to celebrate my 40th (I'd always promised myself I would turn 40 in Paris - and I kept that promise) this is where I celebrated. My mom and I made our reservation the day before (by walking in and with me speaking my horrible high school French, but the maitre d' had the good grace NOT to scoff in my face although he may have snickered behind my back afterward), and when we arrived for our dinner, they seated us on the little upper level balcony! The service was wonderful and they really made my birthday extra special in every way possible. Then in 2007 during my first year living in Paris, I took my best friend here on her last night; no balcony table but we ate in a very classicly decorated room and had a delicious meal. I haven't eaten here since but have no reason to suspect the quality has dropped off, despite it being a bit of a... Read more →

Libération!

Imagine... imagine if Paris had never been liberated on this day, 70 years ago: August 25, 1944? Imagine if Hitler's decree that Paris should be burned to the ground had actually been carried out? Can you imagine a world without the beauty and history of Paris? I can't. Because if that Paris hadn't been liberated in '44, my Paris wouldn't exist, and I wouldn't be here now. Vive la France! Read more →

Dinner in the 17th century

The other night, a friend and I were wandering around Ile Saint Louis looking for someplace interesting to have dinner. We almost passed right by this place at first, but something made us stop and check out the menu. When we saw reasonably priced dishes (15-18€) and traditional French fare, we thought, well, why not? And then we got a look inside the place, and that decided us: This is "Aux Anysetiers Du Roy", a restaurant located in a 17th century building in the oldest part of Paris. Those ceiling beams are the real deal. Madame (the woman in white) is the patronne, and she bosses her husband around with a smile. (That's him in the royal blue sweater. He basically served, cleaned tables, and brought coffee.) The walls are painted stone. The tables are old wood and close together. The food was excellent - I had salmon with a champagne sauce and my friend had magret de canard (best part of a duck) with a honey raisin sauce - and the bill only came to 54€ including tax and tip for the two of us (no starter and I didn't have any wine because I had to go to... Read more →

Worst photo ever but it's still golden

Yesterday as I passed the just reopened Plaza Athenée hotel on über-chic Avenue Montaigne, I did a double-take. Because, you do that when there is a freaking GOLD LAMBORGHINI parked in front. So today I looked again, and there it was: shining like chrome only GOLD. Holy credit line, how rich do you have to be for a car like that to seem "normal"? Read more →

Wishing I were there

Here's how my transition (from vacation to reality) went today: Survived the train from hell by sticking my nose in my Kindle book and then spending the last half-hour in the bar car. You know, for medicinal purposes only. Managed to be the first in the taxi queue, so clearly the Universe was trying to apologize for 4 hours and 45 minutes of screeching baby and stinky fellow travelers. Got home by 5pm, found the house relatively clean and intact, except that the Olders left some stinky garbage in the trash can instead of taking it out; I could have done without that after the train from hell. Did a load of laundry. Folded the clean dry sheets La Fille left me for the rental apartment. Food shopped for myself for the week (now how did that pint of Ben & Jerry's get into my shopping bag?) Watched Mamma Mia on DVD for a little light mood-lifter, even if Pierce Brosnan's singing reminded me of that screeching baby. I love the "Dancing Queen" scene with all those Greek housewives tossing their aprons (and that one old lady tossing that load of firewood? Could you just die laughing?) and dancing to... Read more →

Train from hell

So it's not bad enough that I have to be on a train back to Paris when Georges and the Garçon get to spend another 7 days in the warm, sunny south. But I am apparently on the train from hell while I'm at it. Let's begin with my seat mate, Stinky Young Guy. Here's what I know about him so far: neatly dressed, reading "The Hundred Year Old Man" in English, smokes Camels, apparently sleeps a lot and like many men he takes up ALL THE FUCKING SPACE on transport. He drools when he sleeps. And he stinks. Lucky me. He's kinda cute but I wouldn't recommend him as boyfriend material to any of the young girls I know. In front of me: Stinky Old Guy and his wife. They're quiet but this train ain't big enough for all the stench. Did I somehow get on a train where they segregated all the Stinkies into one car? Because then I'm in the wrong place. Across from Stinky Old Guy is Harried Mother. She's traveling alone with 3 kids under the age of 6, and oh, how I applaud her for not losing her cool. Traveling with little ones is... Read more →

Frenchiversary #1

I've been so vacationed out that I completely forgot my own 1st Frenchiversary! It was one year ago August 8th that the French government decided that I was worthy to become a citoyenne and registered me as a French national. Of course, they didn't get around to informing me about this honor for three weeks more, but since they DID decide to keep me, I got over it. Things I did this year that made me feel French: the citizenship ceremony rooting for France in the World Cup traveling with my French passport or ID card instead of my American papers and voting, which made the biggest impression of all. In my heart, I will always identify as American first; its where my roots are and where both my character and my outlook on life were primarily informed. But even before I became French on paper, a part of me has always felt just a tiny bit French, too. Or at least I was strongly attracted to French things, French culture, the French language -- whether that attraction could actually make me French from the inside out is debatable. It's still a strange feeling, this having two countries. I don't... Read more →

Dinner on the terrace

A bit of a fancy dinner out on this 15th of August, date of the liberation of the south of France. Also liberates us from cooking dinner at home. Bon appetit! Read more →

Views from Marseille

We went over to Marseille for two days this week, to visit our friends who live on the outskirts near the hills and the sea. I don't find downtown Marseille very picturesque, frankly, although the area around the old port is very lovely. And maybe I'm being hard on Marseille as I haven't really had the opportunity to explore very much of it. That being said, what I have seen on drives through town between the train station and our friends' place out past the Prado is that the city seems run down and rather gritty. Ok, dirty. It looks dirty. And yet there are all these beautiful palm trees, tropical flowering plants, gorgeous blue skies, and the SEA. So... compensations for all that grittiness. So here are a few photos I took over the course of our visit. Why yes, that IS Michaelangelo's David and his bare butt, right out there in Marseille traffic at the end of the Prado. Why do you ask? Doesn't every French city have a reproduction Michaelangelo statue? David had a nice ass, though, don't you think? Flowers and the lime tree in our friends' courtyard. Look at that sky! I love their courtyard,... Read more →

Antiquing in the Sun

In the big square in Saint Raphael, just across from the train station and 2 blocks from the beach and harbor, the town has all sorts of events going on throughout the year. Over the Christmas holidays, they put up a big ice skating rink and booths to sell hot chocolate and churros. In the summer, we can count on two things: first, a circus tent where you can sign your kids up for a bit of circus performer training. They'll learn to juggle, to go on a little trapeze (with safety harnesses of course), balance on a giant ball, walk a balance beam (about 2 inches off the floor for the young ones, so they don't have far to fall) and the kids seem to have a good time. Le Garçon did that program a couple of times when he was younger; now, just weeks from his 13th birthday, he wouldn't be caught in that tent with the little kids. Ah, how times flies. The other thing we have at the square is a daily antiques fair. Dozens of vendors come out in the late afternoon (they're smart enough to avoid the hottest part of the day, siesta time)... Read more →