Uno, Deux ...

[posted by Amy]

This evening ended with the most cutthroat game of Uno I have ever played. All I can say is that it's a good thing that Beanie can't hear yet ... there were a lot of inappropriate words in more than one language used this evening!

We ate at the famous Les Deux Magots (the two ugly men, not the two maggots) today. I took a picture of the statues that give the café its name:

Personally, I don't think they are that ugly! The Americans that came in there were, though. (Lots of dumb tourists whining about the prices and the fact that they couldn't carry in food from the street vendor outside.)

After that, we braved the snow and sleet on our way to the Musée Picasso. (It was a NASTY winter day today!) I didn't enjoy the museum as much as I expected - there are far more sketches in the current exhibit than paintings, and I prefer lots of color. I may just be "museumed out" after three days of art in a row, though.

I have the perfect cure for that, though ... SHOPPING! Tomorrow is girls' afternoon out for shopping. I doubt I'll have a report tomorrow night, since it's also New Year's Eve and we'll be out having fun! Alas, there isn't anything going on in the city, so it looks like we're just going to a party hosted by our new friends, Doug and Stephanie. So...

Happy New Year, everyone!!

Sex and (the Butte of) the City

[posted by Amy]

More sightseeing pictures from today. Joe, Kate and I headed up to the 18th to see Montmartre, Sacre Coeur, and the Dali museum.

Joe and Kate, enjoying the view from Montmartre, halfway up to Sacre Coeur.

The oldest street in Montmartre, on a cold December day.

Another oops with the English language. This one is at the Dali Museum. I don't even want to think about how you disturd! (This is a typo - the other signs said "Sorry for the disturb!")

A sculpture that includes one of Dali's famous melting clocks. Overall, the Dali museum was NOT worth the entry fee. (Adults are charged 10 euros, which is more than the Louvre!)

We originally intended to take the full walking tour of Montmartre, as outlined by Rick Steves in his book on Paris. Once we got to the bust of Dalida (the busty woman who "brought disco to Paris"), we got bored and headed on to the Boulevard de Clichy. At this point, I took the liberty of calling it the Rick James tour instead. (Wouldn't you like to take a tour recommended by Rick James, you superfreak?)

Once we got down to the Boulevard de Clichy, Joe made sure to snap pictures of Pig Alley (Pigalle). Why? Other than the giggle factor regarding the neon sex signs, they were simply following a recommendation from Grandpa Weber. You see, Grandpa told them that a friend of his said, "If you ever go to Paris, be sure to go to Pig Alley." Grandpa had no idea what Pig Alley was, so he made sure to have them go and check. Here's what they found:

Grandpa oughta get a good kick out of this! (He told Joe to take his pregnant wife to a sex district!)

Pictures from "Da Loover"

[posted by Amy]

It's just after midnight here, so I'm going to post a few photos instead of writing anything lengthy.

Forgot to post this picture yesterday - it's the staircase going down on the way out of the Arc de Triomphe. Spiral, of course!

We spent the afternoon at the Louvre today (fondly pronounced Loo-ver, like Hoover, to indicate our hick heritage). Here is the Venus de Milo, one of the "must sees" on everyone's tour.

A particularly lovely ceiling in one of the many rooms of the Louvre. Remember, kids, this used to be someone's home/palace.

The Winged Victory, which Rick Steves described as capable of "winning a wet t-shirt contest" or something equally crass like that. Her garments are rather clingy, I suppose...

A chandelier in the apartment of Napoléon III. This set of rooms was a lovely little find, thanks to Kate's curiosity. We enjoyed this part of the tour a lot, especially since there were far fewer people around this part.

A nifty looking - albeit impractical - chair in Napoléon III's sitting room.

We also saw the Mona Lisa, of course, but they don't allow photography in that room. (They just renovated, so if you have a picture of her, don't worry. You used to be allowed to take pictures of her without a flash.) The newly renovated room follows a common rule throughout the Louvre that didn't exist in 1990, in that they now forbid taking photos in certain rooms. No big deal, though. We got to see them!

We're going on tour again!

[posted by Amy]

New guests bring more sightseeing fun! Our friends Joe and Kate (and "Beanie," their baby-in-progress) are here for two weeks to see Paris, so I'll get to put up a lot of tourist sight pictures for a bit. Poor Joe, Kate and Beanie had a long and convoluted trip to Paris, thanks to poor service on the part of American Airlines in Indianapolis. But, after three flights (including a stop in London-Heathrow), they arrived safe and sound yesterday afternoon.

Today, Joe, Kate, Beanie and I started out at the Opéra Garnier, which is the very ornate opera house in the middle of Paris. (Colin stayed home to be responsible and do work.) I have to say, I'm a bit surprised that it doesn't make more of the "top 10" lists in Paris and France guidebooks. It's just stunning, both inside and out. We opted to make up our own tour instead of taking a guided one, since we knew what to look for and were feeling independent.

For me, the most interesting thing about this opera house is that it was the inspiration for Phantom of the Opera. This was my obsession-of-choice in high school (everyone had their favorite Andrew Lloyd Weber production in high school, usually Cats, Jesus Christ Superstar, or Phantom). Apparently, there really is a lake under the opera house because the Seine backs up underneath it. You don't get to see that, though, which is probably for the best. (Joe speculated that it's probably not the dreamy, candlelit, foggy scene that we all love, but more likely a rat-infested, stinky mess.) We did, however, see the door to box five, as well as the infamous chandelier. (The chandelier never actually fell and killed anyone, but one of its counterweights did.) Box five wasn't open for viewing (after all, it must remain empty for the phantom, right?), but we were able to look through one of the other boxes to see the main floor. My picture of the chandelier didn't turn out, but I did get the door to box five (pictured at the left).

After thoroughly exploring the opulent opera house, we headed down to the Place de la Concorde to see the Obelisk and the temporary ferris wheel that has been set up in the Tuileries. By this point, it was snowing quite a bit, so we decided that going up in a ferris wheel wasn't the best use of our remaining body heat. Instead, we walked up the Champs-Elysées and had a late lunch in a very Americanized café. Joe, Kate and Beanie had their first croque-monsieurs (after all, nothing says Paris like overpriced hot ham and cheese sandwiches).

We finished up the day at the Arc de Triomphe, where Rachel joined us for the climb. This is still one of my favorite places to view Paris, even though there were a lot more people there today. Also, it started to snow again, so we were slipping and sliding all over the place. The nice part was that the sun was going down, so the lights on the Champs-Elysées were turned on. Between that and the snow and clouds, we had a gorgeous view. The image is still frozen in my mind ... but I think that a little bit more time in front of the heater should fix that. (Seriously, it was COLD up there!!)

I shot a poor video of the Eiffel Tower while we were up there. I posted it on Youtube, where it promptly turned on its side. (Not sure why! If you want to see it the right way, let me know and I can e-mail it to you.) Plus, I decided to check my watch to see what hour it was "sparkling" for, and the picture goes all wacky at that point. I was going to re-film it, but my batteries died. So, despite much adversity, you can see what the tower looks like when the strobe lights go off. (The link to my Youtube sight is in the sidebar on the right.) You can't tell in this picture, but the tower is sparkling behind Joe and Kate.

Anyway, we're headed to the Cameronaise restaurant tonight with Muriel. (Her family is originally from Cameroon, so she's going to give us her opinion on the food.) We've been wanting to go there for a while. I have no idea what to expect, except that when Colin looked up the cuisine on Wikipedia, it mentioned that giant rats are delicacies. Grimace if you want, but if I can eat entrails, I can certainly eat a little bit of rodentia.

Joyeux Noël à tous!

Merry Christmas, everyone!

The first picture taken on our new web cam! Thanks, Santa Shields! :)

Storming the Bastille for Christmas

Colin and I exchanged Christmas gifts today, since both related to this evening's trip to the opera. I got Colin a new coat and scarf, and he got me jewelry to wear with my opera dress. Just in case I actually need to say it, we were both quite pleased with our gifts to each other! (Don't we look cute?)



Once we were "all cleaned up," we headed off to the Opéra-Bastille to see L'Amour des trois oranges (The Love of Three Oranges), with music by Prokofiev. As near as we can tell, it was a full house tonight. We both thought the performance was excellent overall, though some of the dancing left a bit to be desired. (The choreography was fine, but the dancers were a bit of a mess, and one of the knife jugglers dropped his knives three times!) The singing was really great, as was the orchestra. Plus, it's hard to beat (much less find) an opera with a happy ending!

When we got up for intermission, I started to feel really uncomfortable in my dress because I was one of two people who actually wore a real evening gown. Yes, I had been warned in advance that there would be people wearing jeans, so I wasn't taken off guard. Still, I thought there would be a few more people who would have the sense to dress up to go to the opera in Paris! Fortunately, just when I was ready to slink off and hide in a corner, one of the ushers ran over and grabbed Colin by the arm. Once he confirmed that I was with him, the usher told him (in French), "It's always so beautiful to see a woman in an evening gown." Once I heard the usher say, "Très élégante, très élégante," I decided to straighten up my shoulders again and not worry about my ensemble insecurities.

I'm sure that a lot of people thought I was overdressed, but hey, at least someone besides my husband approved! Besides, if you can't dress up to go to the opera in Paris, what's left? I personally think that dressing up is a sign of respect to everyone involved in creating the show. These people spend countless hours rehearsing, not to mention the years of training they went through to get as good as they are in their craft (knife jugglers apparently excluded). The least you can do in return is pull out a pair of slacks and a tie. I don't care what anyone says, jeans are NOT dress pants.

Ah, I guess I was meant to live in the days when going to the opera was a big deal, and a place to see and be seen.

A Childhood Dream Realized

Tomorrow night, Colin and I are headed off to see our first opera in Paris. As such, I wanted to do something a bit fancier with my hair. So, for the last few days, I've been searching for a curling iron to help with the styling process.

You wouldn't think that a curling iron would be a difficult item to find here. Heck, every backwoods Wal-Mart in the continental US has at least 5 different models from which to choose. Why would a western European nation be any different?

Answer: Because it's FRANCE.

When I finally found a curling iron that was the right size and not designed like a giant round brush, I had to buy a whole kit with multiple other attachments to get it. I suppose this kit is a good deal for people with long hair, a lot of free time on their hands, and the deep desire to look like a fashion runway victim. But, since I only meet one of the three requirements in that list (a lot of free time), I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the other attachments.

Fortunately, the solution came along with my shopping buddy, Rachel. She wanted to try the straightening iron on her lovely, long red hair. Of course, straighter hair didn't entertain us for more than a few minutes, so we decided to use the attachment that no woman should EVER use: the crimping iron.

Boys, I'm sure you don't know what this is (unless you have a sister who was a TRUE child of the 1980s). All I can say is that I dreamed of owning one when I was a kid. I can't explain why, but I thought crimped hair looked sooooo wicked awesome. My mother, however, did not agree and refused to let me purchase a crimping iron back in the day. (I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my mother profusely for her sound judgment.)

So, after several minutes of trial and error, I am pleased to give you the look that I always believed I was meant to have in 1987. I think I look a little bit like one of the Bangles, don't you? Or maybe a groupie for Flock of Seagulls...

More images of Christmas

Here are some more pictures of Christmas stuff around town. Enjoy!

The window of Lenôtre (the gourmet bakery).

A close-up of one of the Lenôtre bûches de Noël. This lovely little treat will set you back 65 euros!

The Christmas tree outside of Notre Dame Cathedral. This is, by far, the most beautiful Christmas tree that I have seen to date in Paris.

Rachel poses next to the Notre Dame Christmas tree to give some perspective on just how HUGE the tinsel is.

Christmas/New Year's Decorations

Here are some photos of the holiday decorations in the 14th arrondissement, just to get you in the Christmas mood. Despite the fact that France is something like 90 percent Catholic, I have hardly seen any references to Christmas itself. The general wish is usually "Joyeuses Fêtes" ("Happy Holidays").

I was originally quite suprised by the lack of religious references and imagery, but now I think it's more to do with the fact that we're living in a big metropolitan area. I bet the smaller towns throughout the country have a lot more religious references. I'd be curious to hear from anyone living in other parts of France right now! If you have photos to share, let me know. I'd like to post them, too.

To the left, a flower shop. To the right, a jewelry store.
In the middle, the door to our apartment.


The jewelry store next to our apartment, from a different angle.


Lights over the rue d'Alésia, just up the street from us.
The middle oval in front says "Alésia en Fête" (it's not readable in this picture).


A very cute boulangerie/patisserie on the rue Daguerre.


A chocolaterie on the rue Daguerre.

A branch of Lenôtre, a really pricey but oh-SO-good boulangerie and patisserie. This is also just up the street from us, between our apartment and the rue d'Alésia.

One of the bazaars near our apartment.
I'm not sure if the circuslike feel is truly transmitted through this photo.

Street decorations at the corner of rue Daguerre and avenue du Maine.
The words in the center say "Joyeuses Fêtes."

Further down on the rue Daguerre, right where the main part of the pedestrian mall begins. If you walk through this passage, you'll hit avenue du Général Leclerc.

Better with Butter?

Rachel and I went to see a movie a couple of days ago. I'm not sure what was better: temporarily losing myself in a Hollywood story, or eating a vat of popcorn and washing it down with a bottle of Coke. But, as is the case with most things I do here, this little excursion proved to be yet another learning experience in French culture.

Rachel and I both ordered popcorn, though she had the self-restraint not to get a carbonated beverage to accompany it. As I paid for my tasty treats, Rachel tasted the popcorn and immediately asked, "Est-ce que vous avez de beurre?" ("Do you have butter?" -- apologies, Rachel, if my indefinite article is wrong!) The woman at the counter gave us both a really odd look, and said no. So, the lesson of the day: the French don't butter popcorn.

The next afternoon, while chatting with Isabelle, I decided to verify this apparent new discovery. Not only did she confirm it, but she was rather disgusted to learn that we would put any butter on our popcorn, much less extra butter like so many people love to do. She was quick to point out that this would be very unhealthy and "très gras" (very greasy), which I confirmed with a contented, wistful sigh. Of course, I added, it's probably not real butter, but some version of margarine. I know, that doesn't improve my case in any way, but I wanted to be clear that we don't typically use real butter like they do exclusively around here.

Geez, it's no wonder more Americans than French are obese.

In far more exciting news, tonight is the big finale of Star Academy 5! Finally, we will learn the answer to the question on the tip of everyone's tongue: "Who is the most mediocre of mediocre French singers this year?" It's down to one boy, Jérémy, and one girl, Magalie. (In this version of American Idol, they have two semi-final shows to pick a girl winner and a boy winner, rather than letting either gender fill the top two spots.)

Everyone already knows the answer to this big question, though. Jérémy is going to win. It's a bit of a scandal that Magalie has gotten this far, since she's (unfortunately) referred to under everyone's breath as the "fat chick." She's NOT fat, but she's not super-skinny like all of the other female contestants. In a lot of respects, it's refreshing that the viewers of Star Ac' picked her in spite of her less-than-anorexic appearance.

Tonight, however, Magalie faces the heartthrob of the competition. There's just no way she'll be able to compete with teenage girl hormones. Plus, Jérémy was allowed to bring his dog on the show a couple of weeks ago, and how can you go wrong with a dog?

In the end, however, it doesn't really matter who wins. Neither one of them will be a success outside of France unless they have some kind of weird accident that gives them the ability to sing better than they already do. And, even if that happens, they need better songwriters than they'll find in France, so it's a lost cause. Nevertheless, they are guaranteed lots of radio time here, since the French government requires French music to be played 40% of the time on the airwaves.

Too bad we don't have some buttered popcorn to eat while we watch the grand showdown tonight...

UPDATE

As is the case with most things French, I was wrong about Star Ac's outcome tonight. Magali won by a healthy margin (57 percent of the vote), much to my surprise. Also adding to my surprise was the person selected to give the award: Mariah Carey. Yes, the same Mariah Carey that first split our eardrums back in 1990 with notes that make Didge cringe to think about them. Apparently, she thought that eating a tub of extra-buttery popcorn would help her repeat the French phrases being piped into her earpiece because she looked ... well, tubby. As for her French ... a parrot could have done a better job. Heck, I could have done a better job!

So, congrats to Magali, though I doubt sincerely that she is a fan of my humble little blog. She won Star Ac' and lost 30 to 40 pounds in the process. All in all, a good job for four months' work, n'est-ce pas?

Going postal

I went back to the Post Office for the 10 millionth time today. OK, maybe it hasn't been quite that many trips, but I'm beginning to feel like I live there. Until Tuesday, however, I didn't really mind it. The people there were always courteous, patient, and helpful, and I always left feeling good about my limited French.

On Tuesday, however, I met a Parisite at La Poste. (By the way, that's what we're calling rude Parisians now, instead of Monsieur/Madame Rude.) This woman mumbled her words so quietly that I couldn't understand her sheerly because I couldn't hear her! I spent half of my time saying, "Repetez-vous, s.v.p." or "Encore une fois, s.v.p." which no doubt annoyed her as much as it annoyed me.

Anyway, on that particular day, I wanted one simple thing: fifty 90-centime stamps to use on letters to the US. (I was preparing to address Christmas cards, so I knew I'd need a lot.) The Mumbler quietly confirmed that I said 50, and then went to her accordian file of stamps to fill my order.

She only had thirteen 90-centime stamps.

No, she didn't go to the back room to look for more stamps. No, she didn't ask her colleagues sitting right next to her for more. She only had 13, and that's all I could have. I acquiesced, resigning myself to the fact that I would have to come back later. (As a side note, I tried to buy my stamps from the automatic dispenser instead, but it wouldn't take my credit card.) Fortunately, I managed to play dumb long enough to get The Mumbler to print postage for the letters that I had with me.

So, I went back to the post office today for more stamps. This was also a big trip because I had to mail our boxes of Christmas presents for the family. Fortunately, I had already bought pre-paid boxes during a previous trip, so all I really needed was confirmation that I filled out the forms correctly. After that, it was just a matter of getting the stamps that I didn't get on Tuesday.

There were three registers open, but I KNEW from the moment I got in the long line that I was going to get The Mumbler again. When I finally got to the counter, she was quick to make it abundantly clear that I was annoying her because I was missing the customs form (which I didn't know until that moment). No matter: I wasn't going anywhere. I just filled out the forms and handed them back to her.

Then, it was back to getting the stamps I needed. Instead of going to her accordian folder, she just started the tedious process of hand-printing stamps for my Christmas cards. (I had about 20 envelopes today!) Well, who was I to argue? It was her idea to print off the stamps instead of getting out pre-printed ones for me to use. But get this: while she going through this self-inflicted torture, she actually had the nerve to tell me, "Next time, you should buy your stamps in advance." ARGH!

When she was nearly finished with my Christmas cards, she put up her "window closed" sign. I chuckled at this and said, "Felicitations" (congratulations) in a rather sarcastic voice ... and I'll be damned if she didn't smile at me! I couldn't believe it. I finally gave up and fired off a smart remark, and that's what won her over.

As I left, I made sure to give her a sugary sweet "Je vous remercie" (a super-polite way of saying thank you). She wished me a good day in return. Go figure.

WHOA! Major English Blunder...

HOLY SMOKES! I can't believe that I only noticed this for the first time today. I had just hopped a bus when one of the GIANT signs caught the corner of my eye. I returned with my camera this afternoon, not fully believing that I had actually read what I knew I had.

I've always cringed when I walked past this men's clothing store anyway. The best way to describe it is that it is a mix of all that is wrong from three different stores: it takes the insanely loud music of Abercrombie and Fitch and pipes it in over the Euro-trashy clothing that you would get if Hot Topic and Hollister were to merge.

Without further ado, this is the sign in question, just across the street from our apartment:

Yes, kids, that's the f-bomb. And it's the company's philosophy.

Once I had visual confirmation that this was actually what the sign said, I felt that it was my duty as an English-speaking citizen of the world to explain the extremely poor word choice to the good folks at Delaveine.

Then I got closer to the store.

No joke: every single item of clothing in the entire store has a six-inch-long pricetag with this slogan on it. Even if I were to explain it to them, what could they do? Cut the pricetag off of everything in their store? So, I judged this to be an unsaveable mess, and went on my merry way.

I guess you can file this under "things you wouldn't see in the US" ... or at the very least, "Things you wouldn't see in the US for very long because people would protest."

Postscript: The longer I thought about this, the more I have become convinced that A) the guys who came up with this ad campaign knew full-well what that word meant, and B) they were just hoping for attention.

Stupid dog.

Didge has a sweet tooth. The joke between Colin and I is that he "takes after his mother" i.e. me. Unfortunately, Didge's sweet tooth has gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. There was the time when, as a puppy, he ate an entire bag of Oreo cookies. Then, there was the time that he ate two Hershey bars as an adult.

Then, there was yesterday.

I left Didge alone for about four hours so that I could go Christmas shopping. At some point in that time period, Captain Acrobat found a way to get up on to a counter in my bedroom and grab a very large box of chocolates. He ate every last bite. You can see what I was left with.

Lucky for us, Didge has the constitution of a vacuum cleaner. After a several hour vigil, during which we watched for any signs of poisoning, we realized that he must not have ingested enough to cause himself a problem. In fact, he wasn't even a tiny bit more hyper from the extra sugar and caffeine.

Stupid dog.

Do you want some cheese with that?

Lights? Camera! Action!

In high school, my friends and I were fond of driving around our small town in search of the tackiest possible Christmas decorations. This is a game that you can start playing as early as October, since Halloween officially kicks off the Christmas season. By December, the decorations are everywhere and candidates for our competition abounded. The true contenders always subscribed to a "More is Better" theory by buying every plastic decoration that Wal-Mart makes and packing them into their lawns. Apparently, nothing quite says "Christmas" like a giant inflatable light-up Frosty the Snowman blowing precariously in the wind, threatening to knock the light-up sillouette of Santa into the homemade light-up wooden manger.

In the spirit of this game, I have always enjoyed going out and looking at Christmas decorations. This year, I have been eagerly anticipating the displays in Paris. My neighborhood has done well with lights and whatnot, but I was certain that there was more to be found out there.

Enter a well-timed e-mail from a member of the French faculty at Michigan. Just as I was starting to scout out places to go, our friend Helene sent us a message about the official 12-stop circle tour of lights around Paris called Paris Illumine Paris. Each stop on this tour has a professional designer in charge of the "concept." So, this afternoon, we picked out four stops on the route for a Friday night tour. We called friends and invited them along. We ate dinner early. Finally, we leashed up the dog, grabbed the camera, and went to the top of the tour in the 18th.

Here's what we found:

Stop #1: Rue du Poteau - Porte Montmarte: la voie lactée (The Milky Way)

Apparently, the Milky Way galaxy is actually just a series of sphere-shaped projectors, not unlike the kind that most second-rate DJs use at junior high dances. The entire extent of this display included projections of abstract patterns on buildings. No strings of lights, no Christmas trees, no decorations of any sort. "OK," we thought, "Maybe this just isn't a good one. The next one will be better."

Stop #2: Avenue de Saint Ouen: la rivière de lumière de Saint-Ouen (the river of lights of St. Ouen)

This stop was the best of the four. The picture isn't great (heck, most pictures of Christmas lights aren't), but the strands of white lights in the middle turned off and on to simulate a "flow" of water down the street. It was nice - nothing spectacular or astounding, but a clear attempt to have real, themed decorations.

Stop #3: Rue Victor Hugo: Rive d'Or (The Golden Shore)

Colin and I couldn't actually tell that anything was supposed to be there while we were walking down the street. We didn't even see lights that weren't turned on.

Stop #4: Rue de Passy: Au Firmament de Passy (The Heavens of Passy)

There were several scaffold towers with projectors on them, but none of them were working. Had they been lit up, we understand that they would have projected stars on the buildings. So, it might have been slightly more impressive than stop number one. I had more fun looking in the store windows on the street.


By this point, Didge's tail was dragging and Colin and I were thoroughly baffled. "Maybe the lights don't start until next week?" we speculated. "Maybe they turn everything off at 8 pm?" We were at a loss for ideas, so we got back on the métro and went home.

Colin checked the website's details again, and we can find no explanation for our major disappointment. In fact, the only thing that we got out of the evening (other than a new blister on my left foot) was a worn-out dog. But, if Charles Schultz is correct that "Happiness is a warm puppy," then pure happiness is asleep on my pillow right now.

Tripe vs. La Grande Arche

I dragged Colin over to La Défense with me this afternoon under the guise that we would get to eat bratwurst for lunch. As you may recall from yesterday, there was a giant grill at the Christmas fair that Rachel and I explored, and the smell was amazing. I've been drooling over the memory ever since, so Colin and I decided that the lack of food in our kitchen at home was a sign that we deserved to eat out.

As it turns out, the vendor didn't sell bratwurst. She had hot dogs, andouillettes, and various kinds of saucissons (sausages) instead. No matter, though. Everything looked and smelled great, so we were happy to indulge. We both got the "assiettes" (plates) that came with fries, onions, and our choice of a meat product. Colin and I both got andouillettes. Unfortunately, the meal ended up being much more expensive than we expected: 25 euros for everything in the photo, plus drinks. (This is why we don't eat out much anymore!!)

Once I finished devouring my andouillette, Colin asked me if I knew what it was. I assumed that it was just like andouille (the sausage that you put in gumbo) except that it was smaller (hence the -ette ending, like tartelette). With a mischievous gleam in his eye, Colin gleefully informed me that no, in fact, what we had eaten was a type of tripe. What does that mean, you ask?

I had just eaten pig entrails.

Well, you know what? It was yummy!

Now, had you told me this morning that I would come home preferring tripe to the view from the top of La Grande Arche, I probably wouldn't have believed you. While I have recently begun to think that I'm not fond of the unoriginal squareness of La Grande Arche, I certainly wouldn't have ranked it below guts stuffed into an intestinal tube.

As it turns out, the view from La Grande Arche is less than spectacular. You can't really see much of Paris because the other tall, modern buildings of La Défense are blocking the view. Further, you can't walk all the way around and see the suburbs of Paris. For 7 euros 50 a piece, I can confidently say that it's not worth your money.

Here's a picture of the view, so that you can see what I'm talking about. You can also see video from the top that Colin and I shot -- I posted it to my Youtube site (the link is in the right hand bar of this blog).

Since there are a lot of things that you can climb in Paris, I've recently been mulling over which ones are the best. A good list crystalized in my head today, so here are my recommendations:

If you only have enough time and/or money to go up to the top of one thing, I recommend the very top of the Eiffel Tower at night. I think it's worth the extra money to go to the top, as opposed to just the second level. You can see everything and walk all the way around the circle to get every possible angle. Plus, the ticket to the top gives you access to the other two levels, so you won't miss anything by starting at the top. The other bonus of the Eiffel Tower is that they have large photos under every window that tell you which buildings are which. This is really handy if you don't know the city very well - if you see something and think, "Wow, what is that?" you can just look down at the photo and check the key. As a final bonus to the Eiffel Tower, you ride elevators the entire way, so it's much more accessible to people with any kind of physical impairments that would make climbing stairs difficult. Other bonuses to going at night: fewer tourists, and the tower "sparkles" at the top of every hour by setting off strobe lights that are mounted all over it.

Of course, the drawback to going up at night is that you can't get good pictures of the city without a really good camera and some professional knowledge. So, if you can't spend any more money and/or you have physical limitations, I recommend going to the top of Montmartre, the hill that Sacre Coeur sits on. The stair climb is free (good for the budget-conscious), and there is a funiculaire (an elevator or a tram) for people with physical limitations. The view is spectacular - you can see everything, including the Eiffel Tower, which you can't take pictures of when you're on it! If you have extra money, you can climb the stairs to the top of the tower in Sacre Coeur. I enjoyed it immensely, but if you have limited time/money, the view from outside the church is enough. Plus, the walkway at the top of the tower is fairly narrow, so you're likely to feel crowded if there are a lot of tourists.

In terms of climbing stairs, I think that L'Arc de Triomphe wins the "most worth the climb" award. Unlike Sacre Coeur or even Notre Dame, there is a lot of room for people to move around on the top of L'Arc de Triomphe. Plus, Sacre Coeur and Notre Dame don't have a map to show you which buildings are which while you're up there. L'Arc de Triomphe has one, though it's not quite as good as the Eiffel Tower's because only two to three people can look at it at one time. Still, it's nice to have the map to know what you're seeing. By the way, I think that there is an elevator that will get you part of the way up L'Arc de Triomphe, but I can't say for sure because it wasn't working when I was there. The one drawback once you reach the top is that you still have to get up on a really tall step to get the best view. (If you have physical limitations, make sure you have someone who can help you step up, or it's not worth it. Once you get up on the step, you can walk all the way around on the top of it. You can see video of the step on my Youtube site.) OH -- don't forget that there is an underground tunnel at the easternmost end of the Champs-Elysées to get to this site! There's no need to risk your life running through eight lanes of swirling traffic.

If you can't afford the 8 euro ticket or you can't physically climb L'Arc de Triomphe, you can get nearly the same impressive view from the top of Printemps Maison (the household branch of the big department store). There aren't any maps to show you what you're looking at, but you can ride escalators all the way up and stay as long as you like for free!

If money, time, and physical impairments aren't an issue, I also highly recommend climbing the tower at Notre Dame for the gargoyles. The view from the very top isn't nearly as good as the ones I have already mentioned (though it beats La Grande Arche), and the walkway is really, really narrow up there. Climbing this spiral staircase is mainly worth the effort (and dizzyness) to see the gargoyles, though the view from the middle of the church is quite lovely, too.

One caveat to this list: I have not yet been to the top of La Tour Montparnasse, so I don't know if the view is any better and/or cheaper. I'll check that out and give an update later. It is the highest point in Paris, so it might offer a worthwhile view. Plus, it has the advantage of not giving you a view of La Tour Montparnasse, since you're on it! (It's kind of an ugly duckling among swans in Paris, since it's a modern skyscraper sticking out from everything else. At least La Grande Arche has other tall, modern buildings near it to help it blend in.)

In the end, I've decided that I just don't like La Grande Arche. Yes, it is an amazing architectural feat, i.e. it's really big and bold. But, it just doesn't have the grace and style of the Eiffel Tower, or the historic charm of L'Arc de Triomphe. I still think that La Défense, in general, is a neat place to visit if you have enough time. It provides an interesting contrast to the old city of Paris, and it's got a big centre commercial (shopping mall) for those of us who enjoy a good day of material consumerism. If nothing else, there is a 12-meter-tall sculpture there that sums up my opinion of the city quite well. (If you don't believe me on the height of this sculpture, notice that Colin is standing next to it on the right.)

I give Paris a huge thumbs up!

UPDATE: I have been to the top of La Tour Montparnasse now, and highly recommend it. Here is a link to my updated list of "The Best Climbs of Paris."