Paris/Amsterdam trip - March 12 & 13

We are here!  Here being, the Holiday Inn - Bastille, bitches!  Man, French keyboards are crazy!  They move just a few crucial keys enough to make you think you've lost your mind.  Anywho, Wendy, Mata and I got to the airport rushing but the flight was delayed, anyway; we ended up leaving at 6:30pm instead of 5:15pm.  The good part is that it shortened our layover in NY to almost nothing.  There was a cute group of French teenagers with a flight delay, sleeping in a pile on the floor like puppies.  Actually, we'd be there at MIA still, lying on the floor reading, if Wendy hadn't had the smarts to check and see if the gate had been changed.  The crappy Delta flight to NY's LaGuardia airport was both lame and sad, as can be expected (doll-sized portions of pretzels, peanuts or biscotti - I hardly fly and it's exactly what I got last time) but dinner on the Air France flight from NY to Paris's Charles De Gaulle airport was something else - the menu (ahem):

Salmon with couscous
Chicken fricasse with herbed mashed potato
Cheese
Bread
Raspberry orange cake
Rice pudding

By far the best airplane food I've ever had.  You hear the French take food seriously, but when you are there you really see it...take their school lunches, for instance...

The airport in Paris was deserted and we walked right through...I still think we missed an immigration step somewhere but, oh wells!  Someone left a big, silver, men's ring at the security checkout which I promptly co-opted, thinking it was some kind of omen.  As I put it on I imagined that it was the symbol of membership in some secret, arcane group and some crazy adventure would befall us because I was wearing it a la Da Vinci Code but so far, nothing.

After a minor SNAFU (the first of many involving public transportation) where I kept trying to put my receipt instead of the train ticket in the gate until the first of many nice French people helped me out, we got to the hotel.  The room was tres chic but we were a trifle bemused, wondering how the three of us were going to sleep in the not-so-big bed, when Wendy discovered the Murphy bed: I promptly claimed it since I have a debilitating inability to sleep near other people.  Mata's friends Yoli and Z met us at our hotel.

Then we started walking.  We saw the Notre Dame as the sun was setting (we got to our hotel room at 4:30pm so we started late) and then the Eiffel Tower at night;  Hmmm..I expected it to be bigger.  We ate dinner at a cute cafe, the Salle au 1er, that we selected after extensive research: we were hungry, it was the first place we saw, and it was cheap.  The place had a prix fixe menu, a three course meal for 8.50€.  I had the Pate de Compagne (it was pork liver, haters), Steak Grille, and Mousse Chocolate.  By far the best part was the appetizers; I never get to have pate and Wendy loved her green soup and finished Yoli's.  The smidgen of steak was nonspectacular, the fries indifferent, the vegetables overcooked but flavorful.  The chocolate mousse redeemed the adequate dinner but I can't complain; I spend more than that on lunch all the time.

Got back to our hotel room a little before eleven.  We tried to grab a six pack of sucky French beer but the market didn't sell beer after nine (Sad face!  Sad face!)  A lot of people speak English but a lot don't, of course, and communicating complex thoughts is tough (Not, can I have a cigarette, or, where is the closest place to purchase cigarettes but, what is the cheapest place to buy the several packs of cigarettes I have been commissioned to bring back home?)  We did good, we only spent 49€ our first day, and 28.50€ was for train passes and fares.  *Note: buy your multi day train pass at the airport!

We got to the room and promptly passed out...then I got up at 5am and came down to the Internets to let the others sleep.  I am getting sleepy again, though...then, free breakfast at the hotel and our new day begins.  I hope to catch a walking tour today, and go to the flea market (why else did I come lol), the Champs Elysse, the catacombs, the cementery where Jim Morrison is buried, anf hopefully get to H&M (it's not really an option).

The weather at night is pretty chilly but the days are completely doable...and everything, everything, is absolutely gorgeous: the buildings, the winter-bare trees, the clothes, the signs...everything.  It's impossible to choose particular sights to photograph.  Every step and every view is equally lovely, from the impressive cathedrals to the charming bakery displays.  Everything is touched by a graceful hand.  Spring here with everything in bloom must be spectacular.