Hostel Territory

Aaaaaaaaaand... we have arrived!  The getting into Paris and picking up the car was an adventure.  A four hour long adventure that included an RER (like the subway or the tube, underground transport kiddies) baptism by fire and driving through Paris.  Thank god for Mellissa.  My sweet peche poulet was nervous about exercising her french and moreso about driving in Paris, but she came through like a champ.  And, I have been able to purchase metro tickets and eat and drink wine and check into our hostel, so I say she's doing more than a bang up job. 

Hostel territory?  Oh right... we're staying at a hostel in Reims for the first few days.  We're right by an AMAZING park and I have a shower and a toilet in my room, so that's a lot of wins for the day.

Still battling a bit of exhaustion (funny how travel exhaustion is it's own brand of tired) and delirium, so here are a few bullet points and photos from the day.  Tomorrow we hit the champagne houses (Vueve, Moet which is Dom Perignon!) so stayed tuned.  K, today went a little something like this:

• Standing on a street in Paris, Mellissa and Deanna were tending to some business, so I had my first moment to myself and I look up at the third floor of this apartment building and I see this lovely woman in a black and red dress standing on her balcony smoking.  It was a painting and a poem all at once.
• On the way to the car rental place we had our first encounter with a sweet and helpful Parisian.  He stopped to give us directions... the whole time pointing with the two baguettes he had in his hands.  People here seem to carry baguettes everywhere, not even kidding.  I think I'm gonna like this place.
• In the car Mel turns on the radio and the first song I hear?  So Danco Samba by Stan Getz.  One of my favorite songs by one of my favorite jazz men.  I think I'm gonna love this place.
• And then it hit me... after a shower and a brief nap, we walked to dinner.  The streets were quiet and exactly what you see in movies and books, then, we turn a corner, and it was a bustling square of shops and restaurants, people everywhere, and the most amazing statue in the middle.  I fought back tears.  I'm really here.  I love this place.

Photographic evidence:

Touching down in France... NO. WAY.

Better pictures of this to come, I'm sure, but look... Paris!!!

And, Reims.  Clearly, I'm living in a postcard.

The angel in the square

We showered, now give us wine.

Merci!

Finally, one for the Sisty... my first "real" french fry

FIN... for today

Toronto Can Kiss It...

My arse that is.  And so can my phone.  I promise, my attitude will be much improved by tomorrow's post.  In short... Monsieur Customs, your attitude is unnecessary.  And, phone?  Really?  Two pictures... that's all I ask.  You can't help a madame out?

So... no pics this post.  I'll try to remedy this straight away.  We're safe and sound in Toronto, however.  And Air Canada isn't kidding, they really are the quietest airline.  So lovely.  Too bad they suck at all things guest service.  I dunno, I'm two rum and cokes in, I'm light on waxing philosophical right now.  Ima gonna go.  We'll meet across the pond.

Bisoux!

Au revoir America!

T minus... um, like SEVEN HOURS... WHOA.  Today was dumb crazy so it wasn't until I got out of the car at about 9:30pm and headed into the bar for a little pre-Paree night cap that I got officially excited.  Officially excited... like the ambassador of excited came down and stamped my forehead.  Eff you guys... let me get this out of the way for you all... must've been one big stamp!  Everyone's a comedian.

Anyhoodyha (as me sis would say),  I'm about to power down for, what I'm hoping, is the perfect amount of rest that will keep me from wanting to puke when I wake up at 5am, but will still allow me to fall asleep between the hours of, uh, night time and morning time heading, well, you know... that-a-way,  and thought I'd leave you with this:

As you can see, Mellissa has a picture of the Eiffel Tower in her living room.  I'm not really sure why she needs to go to Paris.  But, whatever, she's teaching me French cuss words and I think she also knows how to ask where the bathroom is (more effectively than what I was going to go with... 'pardon, where-o is the shittier?') so I'm not questioning her motives.

One final thought before my slumber... PARIS!!!

A New Independence...

In just 10 short days from our own independence I'll be witnessing first hand, a real deal, under the Eiffel Tower, Bastille Day Celebration. Apparently, the celebration is a two-parter. The night before Bastille Day (Bastille Day Eve... Le 14 juillet... how cute is that?) there are lots of celebrations about town, but the ones with the biggest draw and, what I'm counting on, the most "colorful" experiences, are what the French call Le Bal Des Pompiers, or Firemen Balls. Saying "Firemen Balls" never gets old. Ever. It's funny every time. Just be prepared, every story I ever tell about my trip to France will include comments such as, "Man, the Firemen Balls were awesome," or, "I really miss the Firemen Balls." And, I haven't perfected it yet, but given France's national colors, you can count on me coming up with the perfect Fireman's red, white and blue balls joke.

Now, here _____________, is where I was going to link to a Le Bal Des Pompiers (you know, the Firemen Balls) video. But, all the ones I could find included stripping firefighters or grainy tourist footage. And, while the stripping firefighters certainly have their appeal, I'm attempting to keep this blog at the very least, PG 13. Says the girl who's written the word "balls" 7 times in this post and giggled every time.

Anyhoo... part two of the celebration is actual Bastille Day, July 14. The day kicks off with a parade and ends with this:

Ooh, la, la indeed...

Awwwwww, ma famille, mes amis...

As much as I want to be daydreaming about Paris until my voyage, work has been taking up the majority of my brain space as of late. And, then, this afternoon... an unexpected and lovely reminder of my upcoming adventure courtesy of my lovelies... my family and my friends.

Here's a snap of my bouquet of goodies:

Auntie Arleen sent along what her and my mom would call some "walking' around money," which, at least twice since I opened the envelope I've had to remind myself contains actual, spendable cash (it's so sparkly and pretty!), an "important docs" holder for... well, my important docs, some tres chic jewelry so I'll be properly accessorized, plug thingies, and, perhaps most valuable... some sound travel advice. Then, last week, the ravishing Madame Davis and the adorable Garcon Matthias gave me an Eiffel Tower luggage tag and some perfumed soaps, "Auntie Manda, you put them in your luggage so it smells good on your trip." Also, notice the handmade "Bon Voyage" card? Perhaps the young Matthias is a budding Monet.

And, then, a card from Sisty that reads:

"Sweet Baby Sis - There's no place like home... but Paris has got to be a close 2nd! Thought you could use your very own pair of "ruby slippers" to guide you safely along the way. These are special ruby slippers because they are practical, sensible & comfortable. They are what Dorothy would have worn had she been a lesbian."

And THESE:

These, ladies and gents, are sparkly red Crocs. My sister is a GENIUS. And for those of you who aren't aware... rudy slippers are ever our homage to our mama. So, thanks sisty, for making sure mom will be with me every step of the way!

Another reason why Sisser is my hilarious and spectacular treasure? Here is how she signed the card:

"...always know that we will be waiting at the "end of the rainbow" to hear of your adventures.

Oui amor you mucho,
A B C & D"

I am one lucky girl...

2 WEEKS!!!

Dead Folks

We're going to Père Lachaise Cemetery.  Here's my list of awesome dead folks I'm going to go see:

Sarah Bernhardt

Colette

Jim Morrison

Édith Piaf

Georges-Pierre Seurat

Gertrude Stein

Alice B. Toklas

Oscar Wilde

Any other suggestions?  I'd be happy to snap a photo of your favorite interred individual.