Sunday, December 9th 2012

            Our first night in the flat at 37 Rue des Jeuneurs was interesting to say the least.  There was a lot of noise.  Women who sounded like caricatures of 1940's French girls getting drunk for the first time, giggling and squealing as they struggled to climb the circular staircase.  A man outside our window revving his engine and yelling, "Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!"  Over and over.  Later – a loud crash right underneath our window.  When I heard the noise I got out of bed and poked my head out of the window.  A motorcycle was strewn across the street.  Two men were laughing.  Another man, on the other side of the street, was urinating into a corner.  This was all underlined by the heavy bass drums of a bar down the street.  Ahh…Paris at night!

            We woke at noon.  What?!  We never sleep that late.  But when in Paris do as the Parisians do, right?  :)

            We went back to La Cantoche since we still owed our waitress a tip from the previous day’s meal (we didn’t know you can only tip in cash and we didn’t have any Euros the first time we went in).  After we finished brunch we tipped our waitress from the prior day.  She was so touched that she gave me a shot.  That woke me up real quick!

            After brunch we walked to Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris.  The Cathedral was completed in 1345 and is widely considered one of the most prominent examples of French Gothic architecture in the world.  It was staggeringly ornate, beautiful and large.  It reminded me of the Sagrada Familia Chapel in Barcelona, Spain.  It’s almost hard to comprehend the amount of work that it took to erect such a massive structure…back at a time when an abacus was a mind-blowing emergence of technology.

            Inside Mena and I lit candles…her hair caught on fire while taking a picture of me lighting my candle.  We caught the fire quickly so it only got a few strands…phew.  Could have turned out a lot worse.

            After the Cathedral we were going to see the La Sainte-Chapelle church but it was getting dark and we decided to set out for the Champs Elysees with our ultimate destination being the Arc de Triomphe.  We walked along the Port des Tuileries, Paris – the narrow walkway that lines the Seine River.  We watched as huge barges navigated between the many bridges connecting Paris.  We took pictures of graffiti and landscape shots of all the beautiful architecture and bridges.  I carved our initials into a tree.  We walked past the Louvre, through the Jardin des Tuileries and down Champs-Elysees towards the Arc de Triomphe.

            As we walked down the Champs-Elysees Mena said her stomach was bothering her.  I got her a Sprite to help calm her stomach.  I could tell she wasn’t feeling well because she had been excitable and talkative all day and suddenly was quiet and withdrawn.  The further we walked the worse she seemed. 

            By the time we got to the Arc de Triomphe she had to sit down.  We were supposed to walk back to our flat and stop at Bar Hemingway on the way back, but she wasn’t feeling up to it.  We ended up at, of all places, Starbucks.  We sat there for five minutes and Mena drank tea.  All of a sudden she told me she had to go outside.  I collected all our stuff and found her vomiting in the street.

            Food poisoning.  Oh no.

            I flagged a cab, which took us in the wrong direction for ten minutes, but whatever.  At one point Mena said she had to throw up.  She leaned over me, stuck her head out the door and vomited again.  And again.  The cab driver naturally assumed we were drunk and rolled his eyes.  After another ten minutes I walked Mena up to our flat.  She jumped in the shower and I went out in search of soda, crackers and bread.  I brought her the soda and bread but she immediately threw up everything she ate and drank.  I was worried about her and assumed she was going to be out of commission for the rest of the night and probably all of the following day.  After an hour she had settled down and seemed alright.  I told her I was going to grab a quick bite to eat since I’d only had one meal that day.

            “I’ll come.”  She said.

            “Really?”

            She nodded.  What a tough girl!

            We went to a fancy-pants restaurant in our neighborhood called Le Grand Colbert.  Our waiter was nasty and he openly mocked us when we didn’t order wine with dinner (I had a beer, Mena had water).  The people next to us kept staring at us.  One guy in particular kept staring at Mena.

            “Each time he looks at you tap my leg underneath the table and I’ll turn around and stare at him.”

            She tapped my leg, I turned and stared at him. 

            She tapped my leg again, again I turned and stared.

            I was pissed off.

            Eventually I just started staring at him, so when he looked up I was already looking at him.  When his dinner party was done he walked away with his tail between his legs.

            The food at Le Grand Colbert was delicious but it was also the first place we noticed the snobbery and elitism that some denizens of Paris are famous for.  Regardless, I was really happy Mena was able to eat.  After dinner she declared she was '94%' healthy again!  Pretty good, eh?!  We walked back to our flat and passed out.