Paris: The Louvre is a Big Place

From Amsterdam I jumped on a train and headed to Paris. To give you some perspective about what this was like for me, let me take you back 20 years. There I am as a freshman in high school, finally sitting in the French class I had been waiting to take since middle school. I am memorizing every noun (and it's gender), conjugating every verb, soaking up every detail Mrs. Albertson tells us about France because I know that very soon I'll be going there. Hell, I'll probably even spend a semester there in college!  

Well, life goes on then suddenly 20 years years has gone by and you haven't been to France. So when the opportunity came up for Anson to go to Germany we agreed we had to take the long-delayed trip to Paris as well. A volcano threatened to ruin our trip before it began, (and indeed it affected Anson's visit to Germany) but we got there. He ended up flying directly to Paris and met me at our Métro stop. I had to shake off my traumatic experience (note to self: pack lighter next time!) and as I stood there waiting for him, I looked around and I had to remind myself that I was finally in Paris. Paris!

  

We found a great apartment in the Latin Quarter which we made our home for the week. We got a week's pass on the Métro and became pros at navigating it. We got to know our neighborhood near the rue Mouffetard and stood in line with the locals for bread at the end of the day. We made friends with the guys next door who were opening a restaurant that week. We frequented the cafe near our apartment where I had my new favorite wine for the first time. I did my best to be our translator and found the Parisians more than willing to meet us half way with English when I got that confused look on my face. It was the trip I had always dreamed of--life in Paris, if only for a week.  

More than once, Anson and I turned to each other and said, "We're in Paris."  It was hard to believe and we both needed a reminder.

Anson, the Breakfast King, did not disappoint our first morning. We needed the strength for our first day--the Louvre. 

The view from inside the Grand Pyramid. There's me.

There's Anson.

A relief from the tomb of Tepemankh in Egypt depicting a menu for the dead. Next to it, a key translates the contents of each of the squares--bread, wine, beer, head of beef, pigeon, duck, cakes, etc. 

This is a small diorama from Egypt depicting a brasserie (brewery). The figures on the right are grinding grain while the beer is brewing in the big jars and vases in the front hold beer.

I love the details that remind you this was a royal residence.

The sandwiches we had for lunch were terrible, but these chips made up for it.  Plus, you can have a beer with lunch if you want.

These rows of pointed hedges were interesting. We saw them at the Musée de la Armée as well, and I thought they must be for defense.  

The Arc du Triomphe du Carousel outside the Louvre.

The famous Art Nouveau Métro entrances. Note the couple on the left feverishly making out. This situation could only have been more "Parisian" with the addition of a mime. Oh, and with me holding a baguette.

No better way to end a long day...

Edam

Day two we got in the car and headed out of town to see another side of the Netherlands.  In a matter of minutes the heaviness of the city gave way to mile after mile of lush green pasture, bordered by the ever-present canals, and tidy little towns that looked as if very proper people lived there.

The first place we came to declared simply "Cheese + Clogs" on the roof in large white letters, so we figured it must be the place to stop. Inside was a demonstration of how to make both wooden clogs and cheese (how's that for truth in advertising?).  Though we missed both, as we came in on the heels of a busload of tourists, we got some pictures anyway and an abbreviated explanation of both cheese and clog making techniques.

That's me.  Holding clogs.

Each of these clogs has a specific function--blacksmithing, marsh-walking and woman-wooing to name a few.

Fresh cheese, awaiting it's 30-day term until it can be sold.

We continued our drive to the town of Edam, whose brick-lined roads and quaint houses made it look like a movie set.  

I had to get a shot of tulips, of course.

Most of the houses are arranged along canals with small streets and bridges forming the structure of the town.

The side of a little shop, hung with well-worn clogs.

The namesake cheese of the town.

A pretty girl from Amsterdam.

I loved these herb and spice packages in the local specialty food store.

It's funny the things you miss when you are away from home.  When we sat down, an iced tea sounded really good, however I wasn't expecting it to be a sparkling iced tea. It turned out to be a nice variation.

Elisabeth was looking forward to eating at this cafe as it was one of the few places that has tortilla chips.  I loved their version of nachos, which has melted Edam cheese and sweet chili sauce. That's my cheese pancake (crèpe) in the foreground.

A great tuna sandwich I had before I left for Paris. I have to remember to add capers next time I make them at home.

It seems that Huntington Beach surf culture really has legs. I was struck with a bit of home at the bus stop on the way to the train station--an ad in which the model wore a shirt promoting Huntington Beach.  

Amsterdam

I've been fortunate in my life to meet some really great people. One of them is my friend, Elisabeth, who came to Southern California from Germany by way of the south of France.  We easily became friends, creating occasions for dinner parties with our boyfriends, celebrating birthdays and having long lunches together.  It left a big hole in my life when she moved back to Europe a couple years ago. Though we've kept in touch by phone and email I've missed her companionship ever since. So when the opportunity to go to Paris came about (more on that to come) I knew I had to make a stop in Amsterdam first.  I couldn't miss a chance to see the kind of friend who meets you at the airport with a bouquet of tulips!

The first thing we did was jump on bikes and head to central Amsterdam.  Biking is the preferred method of transport in the city.  Sure there are cars, but if you want to get around efficiently you take a bike. Don't believe me?  Here's a bike park near the docks:

Lunch was high on the list and Elisabeth had promised to introduce me to her favorite Dutch pub food, bitterballen. They're basically little balls of meat goo which are breaded, deep fried and then served with spicy mustard (and a beer, of course). 

The Albert Cuyp market was a visual feast.  You could pretty much do all your shopping in this outdoor market--produce, fish, meat, clothing, whatever you need.

Mmmm...cheese...

The pickle guy fittingly wears a sour expression.

Have you ever seen white asparagus that big?

Stepford Strawberries.  

I had no idea what I was in for when I ordered a caramel macchiato after lunch.  

Elisabeth was nice enough to humor me and go on a canal tour.

We were ready for a drink by the time we got off the boat so we met up with Elisabeth's other friend, Sarah, at a bar called Wynand Fockink for a couple of liquers each.  It was tucked in an alley off of Dam Square, and seemed to be a local secret. My favorite flavor was called l'eau de ma tante which was an orange-vanilla flavor.

We cracked up at this photo of us and our photographer. Elisabeth had just mentioned how the Dutch are known to be tall... 

Our long day ended with dinner at a friendly Italian restaurant with Sarah and Martina, and then a bike ride home through the chilly night air. I felt right at home in this sunny, bicycling town.