After unpacking the first day, we showered and took a nap - which was a terrible idea. Dealing with jet-lag is very simple: stay awake as long as possible (until at least 10pm) on the day of your arrival. You might wake up early the next morning, but it will still help your body sync with your new time zone. We screwed up and took a nap. Whatever, we were tired!
By about 6pm, we were pretty hungry. We went to a restaurant nearby, Cafe Boheme, where the bartender was super nice even though we wanted to eat dinner way earlier than Parisians. Early bird special, anyone? First dinner observations: 1) Cheap French wine is WAY better than cheap American wine, and 2) they eat cheese for dessert! Brilliant.
After dinner, we headed north on the metro to this hipster-type art gallery where a Tuareg guitarist, Bombino, was playing a concert. They call him the African Jimi Hendrix, and I have to admit he was pretty amazing. But I actually preferred the music of the opening band, Tamikrest.
The whole event was utterly surreal. It was in a small auditorium, painted all in black, with smoke machines. Saharan fans were dancing around in their turbans, right alongside hipster Europeans, right alongside us, the jet-lagged Americans. It was almost trance-inducing.
The next day, we accidentally slept till noon - but who cares? We were on vacation, damn it! In the afternoon, we went on a river tour of the Seine armed with mini-bottles of wine. Our first view of the Eiffel Tower was somewhat obstructed, but kind of awesome. The top was shrouded in fog, growing more visible as we approached.
|This photo looks totally photoshopped because of the flash, but I swear it's real. If we were going to fake it, wouldn't we have worked in a sunny day?|
Will's favorite part of the day was when we almost got "gypsied." We were walking along the river when some random dude came up to us. He pointed at a ring on the ground near Will's feet and picked it up, asking (in French): "Is this yours?"
Will responded quickly that no, it was not. We attempted to move on, but Monsieur Gypsy was persistent. He showed us how the ring didn't fit on his fingers, shrugging: "It doesn't fit me, so you should have it!" He seemed determined to give it to us, so finally Will took it.
Then Monsieur Gypsy was all, "Hey, you know, I just gave you this awesome ring - you should give me some money" at which point I was like, "Will, give the ring back and let's go. It's gonna turn your finger green anyway."
Will attempted to give it back, but Monsieur Gypsy refused. I hissed at Will: "Just drop it!!!"
Will is a much more experienced world traveler than I, but he's unversed in "gypsy." I, on the other hand, have spent some time in Eastern Europe and am familiar with how they operate (to date, I've never been successfully robbed, but was once spat on by one when I told her to f*ck off after finding her digging around in my purse). Will was befuddled, but finally dropped the ring after I shook him hard enough. Then he proceeded to crow with elation: "We almost just got gypsied, baby!"
I shook my head and told him to make sure his wallet was still there.
Next we went to the Latin Quarter. Although somewhat touristy, I freaking loved it. There were tons of restaurants, lots of shopping, and MORE WINE! We had dinner on the patio (under a heater) at a fondue restaurant, where I ate duck for the first time (note: does not taste like chicken). I might have drank too much wine and decided to spend too much money on a hat and necklace, both of which are flipping awesome... and we fell asleep on each other in the subway on the way home.
|St. Michel was blurry because it was AWESOME and not just because I was inebriated.|