5/5/2014
LETTING PARIS LEAD ME WITH HER HEART..
Voila...Another day full of Paris adventures, rather letting myself sail with the wind of Paris in the hands of Paris!!! I woke up with a desire to have breakfast not at the conference hotel, but at a local place. How do you find one in the middle of the coeur of tourism in this city? I walked to Odeon metro station instead of the closest Saint Michelle, but didn't see any creperie, where I hoped I could find local breakfast. I hopped on the train instead and got off at Javel, a station different than the one I got off at to go to the conference hotel yesterday. This time, I am approaching Novotel hotel from the west. I must say it will pay me very well!
Saint Michelle square
As I cross the street, I see a brasserie; by the way for almost every product sold in Paris, there is distinct store name: For baked goods, brasserie; for desserts boulangerie, for crepes creperie, on and on and on... very similar to Turkey in fact, another reason that Paris makes me feel at home. Of course all these places have outside seating, another similarity with Turkey. What is inside is on the outside as well, in a way, quite transparent. You can tell what kind of a place you will find inside by looking at what they have out on the curb... Again just like in Turkey. Actually, in Turkey, the inside of almost every store becomes useless since everybody would like to sit outside in the spring through the fall. I will see the same in many eateries in Paris in the days to come. Anyway, I walk into the brasserie and ask the nice young guy at the bar whether I could have breakfast there. Certainly! He has a fixed menu of a chocolate croissant and bread and butter and jam with orange juice and an additional drink (coffee or tea). Although I can't quite understand why croissant and buttered bread go together, when in Rome do as Romans do is my motto when I travel, so I say yes! First I plan to sit outside to watch passers-by, but in a minute I change my mind. I can't talk to passers-by and learning simply by watching is somewhat limited. There is nobody around the friendly barman. So, why not keep the young waiter's company and chat him up a bit.
Arch of Triumph
I move back in just before he brings my breakfast out. However, before we engage in any conversation, a flock of young Frenchmen in their 30s enter the bar. Apparently they all know one another and all they order is an espresso. They are standing by the bar sipping on their espresso while chatting animatedly for about ten minutes, and off they go, to be followed with another bunch of men, and another... I am quietly eating my breakfast sitting at the bar enjoying this apparent local routine. Finally, the bar is clear of customers for about 5 minutes, and I ask my server if this is a neighborhood cafe, I am impressed that he gets the concept. He seems like he is enjoying practicing his English with me. He tells me that this particular area is crowded with many governmental offices including Ministries of Labor and Justice among others. These men are professionals working in these offices, still kind of a neighborhood. I am very happy that I stopped at this bar to witness a brief section of the locals' lives in the half hour I spent there.
Eiffel Tower from Trocadero
After the conference day I am determined to walk my way up toward the Opera Garnier. I start walking along the river toward Eiffel Tower, where I cross the Seine toward the Trocadore. Trocadore is named after a battle that took place in a Spanish island named Trocadero, in which French forces triumphed. Once I cross the river and climb up the steps of Trocadore where the Chaillot Palace is located, passing through many Africans selling Eiffel Tower related souvenirs off of their hands or out of a bag, I realize the significance of this public space much better. The entire grandeur of the tower is best appreciated from across the river, from the steps of Trocadore. Just like the Lincoln monument across the reflection pool in Washington DC. I start walking my way through centuries long history on the right bank toward the Arch of Triumph. What a profound structure indeed. I could neither climb up the 300+ steps up to its deck nor wait till 6:30 to see the flame being rekindled and flowers being refreshed for the unknown soldier buried at its foot. I had to reach the Opera house before dark just in case there may be a show...
Madeleine Church
I just recall that must nearby and decide to walk through it. Just as I expected: Globalization taking over even the elegant French culture. Somehow, I was expecting French bourgeoisie would have stood up to globalization to display its style a bit differently, with preserved French elegance in her own land, specifically in Paris out of all places. No, Champs et Lyses is no different than the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, and other similar places in any metropolis of North America or Europe for that matter. Boss, United Colors of Benetton, Gap, Zara and others all over the avenue, no major French brand I know of. In the middle of all this is a colossal McDonalds!!! And all the restaurants and cafes are serving pizza!!! And they are all full!!! I am having a hard time understanding: if you are a tourist, what in the world are you doing at McDonalds in Paris when you have the chance to eat the best of food in its origin? If you are French, the question is even more obvious. But then, isn't McDonalds restaurants also full at all times in Turkey, too?
Half way down, I decide I've had enough of Champs et Lyses and take a side road and find myself on a road named Avenue ...D'Honore, on which I will discover soon the president's palace. But what is more interesting is that the French boutiques that have been pushed out of Champs et Lyses line up this avenue left and right in little boutique shops, not as "gorgusuz" huge department stores lining up both sides of Champs et Lyses. Although I won't do any shopping in any of these, either, at least I am somewhat happy that, there is some dignity and modesty preserved in parts of Paris outside of Champs et Lyses.
Inside of Opera Garnier
Finally, I start feeling like approaching my destination, the opera house once I see the elegant Madeleine church. But there is a small problem, I just can't go on anymore, I have to find a restroom. I regret rushing by McDonalds in distaste: I could have stopped by to use their bathroom! It is a mile away now. I enter the first cafe, trying to catch the eyes of the barman. This is where it gets funny: Even before I am able to ask him whether I could use their bathroom or not, he is pointing toward downstairs. I don't understand what he is doing and ask my question anyway, he is pointing toward the same direction: Aha, either a guy, who is very keen to body language (I didn't think I made it that obvious, but who knows?) or everybody entering the cafe the way I did asks the same question!!! I am laughing to myself as the bathroom seems to be the best place I have visited all day today...
Ceiling of Opera Garnier
In fifteen minutes I am at the Opera Garnier. Although, I do not have a ticket, I follow the crowd that rushes into the house as the doors open; clearly there is a show tonight. However, after entering the house, I start looking around for the ticket booths. There is none! I ask one of the ushers, he offers that I could check the last minute ticket sellers, who may be selling to the right if I go outside. I follow his instructions, but no right turn is needed: A not very trustworthy looking young man is holding two tickets for E50 each. I tell him I need only one, he is willing to split his tickets. five ten-euro bills change hands and voila, I have my pass for entry. It turns out the ticket was for a private box, I feel, "OK, that must be the reason why it was so outrageously priced". I am enjoying being in this impressive building to watch a ballet/opera combination of a contemporary piece of art: "Orphee et Eurydice".
Orphee et Eurydice team
There are two couples in my box, and I start chatting with my neighbors during scene changes. The gentleman is a microbiologist working for Pasteur Institute, his wife a geneticist working for a hospital in Paris. They are both prototypical of French politeness, constantly apologizing for sitting in front of me and asking me whether I could see well. Eventually the gentleman stands up and moves his chair behind me claiming he is much taller than I. Good people are all over the world, I am so lucky to bump into them wherever I go. Halfway into the first act, the door opens and a lady enters to take the last seat in the box. She is clearly a tourist just like I. I wonder where she had gotten the ticket. Sure enough, she was a Canadian, who had no plans of coming to a show at the Opera tonight since she was leaving for Canada the following morning. I bet my guy had sold her the second ticket he had. And, sure enough that was the case, in fact he convinced her to see the show!! I thought to myself, Paris is an interesting place, you never know what it will do to you. I am glad I opened my heart to her today and with some desire of course, she took me to the best place I could've wished to spend my evening tonight at the expense of missing my dinner.
When I arrive in the Latin Quarter, Notre Dame is shining with all her grandeur: I want to spend some more time outdoors taking this in. This gives me the chance to finally have a crepe with chocolate and bananas before returning to my room. My final decision after trying crepe with sugar and butter, crepe with mushrooms and cheese, and this: I must say crepe in Paris is overrated! I would like to invite everybody to come to Iowa City and try the much more delicious crepe found in "Crepes de Luxe Cafe", which is run by a Moroccan family. I will go back and praise their crepe even more than I've always done when I return.
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