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For our last full day in Paris we continued to make excellent use of our week-long Métro passes. The Paris Métro is truly a remarkable thing, an engineering marvel. There are 16 lines and over 130 miles involved in it and it serves 4.5 million passengers per day. Fascinating, I know. Here’s how it works. You head down a staircase in one part of the city and then follow directions to the correct line, navigating these underground tunnels with hundreds of other people, some who want to walk very fast and some who want to walk very slow. I’m not sure which is worse, being behind one of the slow ones or ahead of one of the fast ones. Anyway, then you get on a train and it takes off, depositing you in another series of tunnels. You then hunt for the exit, again with hundreds of other people, some who want to walk very fast and some who want to walk very slow. You then head up a staircase and, bam, you’re in another part of Paris. It’s like magic. Yesterday we went down some stairs, wandered through some tunnels, rode a train, wandered through some more tunnels, went up some stairs and, BAM, there was the Arc de Triomphe. Crazy.

Still, I think the whole system is a scam to keep Parisians thin.The way it really works is like this. People go down some stairs, just like I said. That’s the warm-up exercise. Then you wander around an intricate series of underground tunnels designed to give you an incredible workout. Some people get behind you and step on your heels, encouraging you to pick up your pace for a better workout. Others slow down in front of you, worried that you are going too fast and will burn-out. It’s like interval training. You wander around in these tunnels, following signs to trains that you think take you to your destination. In reality, these trains just go around in circles for a while, giving you a little rest. Then you get out and follow more underground tunnels until you reach your destination. You go up some stairs to finish your workout and there you are. Man, if people knew they had really walked from Montmartre to the Eiffel Tower they’d be really mad. So the city planners got the psychological thing down pat, too.

Part of what’s cool about it is the art involved. Some of the stairways are really attractive, like the one in this picture I took today. Inside some are quite nice, too, and the so-called street performers who entertain are a nice touch. I wonder if the occasional urine smell is designed to keep people moving. It wouldn’t surprise me. Like I said, they thought of everything.

We climbed into our time machine today to take a picture of Melinda and me crossing a Paris street in the year 2050. As is the case in 2010, Melinda continues to look much better than me. No surprise there. Look at that fur collar. And her hair, wow. I’d like that color now. Geez, I bet I’d like that color in 2050. From the looks of things, I bet I’d like ANY color hair in 2050. At least I’ve got my leather jacket going. My grandfather had one just like it.

Stopping to chat with our 40 years older selves, we learned that Melinda is completely fluent in French. I still babble away in “franglais” to anyone who will listen (and some that don’t). Most people find me endearing, or so I think. Melinda is able to order a Ricard on the first try every time. The servers are always impressed by her. Me, after about 20 years of this I finally made peace with saying, “La même chose.”

Although I look kind of gruff in this picture, I’m really a sweetheart of an old man. My French grandchildren get a big kick out of my inability to pronounce certain words in French and have taken to say to me, “Papi-Andy, dis, ‘La rue est vraiment rouge.'” Then they giggle when I do. I don’t mind. I ask them to say, “I was thoroughly thirsty on Thursday.” We all crack up.

Melinda designed our Paris apartment, a renovated studio with high ceilings that allowed her to put in this really cool circular staircase. Our living room and kitchen are on the main level and the bedroom and bathroom are upstairs. I don’t know how she does it, but the place always smells likes lavender.

Chloe and Ella asked me to not divulge what we learned about them on this blog (other than my reference to French grandchildren). Let me just say that they visit often and are starting to think we should move out of Paris and closer to one of them. Whatever.

So said Chloe this afternoon as she took a sip of what I think would better be called chocolate soup. Ella, Melinda and I were quick to agree.

Now I could be posting a photo of the girls standing in front of the Mona Lisa, or one of several other photos we took today inside or outside of the Louvre. But the highlight of the day was clearly the chocolat chaud at Angelina along the Rue Rivolet next to the Louvre. So some people look for the art in things like famous paintings and sculptures etc, etc. And others, like us, think art comes in a cup and is sipped while in good company. Really, you have to understand the quality of this hot chocolate. You know that exceptional cup that leaves some unmelted chocolate in the bottom of your cup and you treat it like a delightful candy surprise? You have to use a spoon to scoop it up and then tasting it you are in taste bud heaven? That’s what this entire hot chocolate was like. Ella said she wants it instead of a birthday cake in December, to which I said that I think it’s thick enough for candles to stand up in it.

We each ordered a cup and it was delivered in two pitchers with two sides of freshly whipped cream. Remember that 70’s era ketchup commercial to the tune of “Anticipation?” That’s what I was humming as Ella poured her first cup.

I think she said something to that effect (well, more like, “Welcome to my life,” actually) just after Ella snapped this picture while we finished up lunch in the café at the Georges Pompidou Museum in Paris today. What she meant by that statement, I’m not sure, but I think it had something to do with my expression as she leaned in to give me a kiss. Or it could have been more related to the fact that she is in Paris with her terrific husband and delightful children. Then again, it might have something to do with the fact that she was having an absolute blast inside the Pompidou. I mean, if you really know Melinda you know how much she appreciates art and design. And this museum captures both of those things like few other museums in the world. We were there for over four hours! She told me her favorite exhibit was that devoted to the work of Nancy Spero. But I know she also liked getting to see works of Picasso like this one, and that of Calder. Then after leaving, we had a drink in a café at the foot of the museum and Melinda took the girls shopping. She even came back to the apartment with a new coat. No, it wasn’t a bad thing to be Melinda today.

I suppose those of you that are more conspiracy minded could still say we staged this picture in a Hollywood movie lot or something, but I swear I took it today in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France (that’s where it is, you know). And as Chloe commented, “This is the most touristy thing we’ve done since we arrived in France.” Indeed, that’s true. But when you consider any of the touristy things a person can do on the entire planet, having your picture taken in front of the Eiffel Tower (yes, the one in Paris, France) has to rank in the top 2 or 3, right? And I think the accompanying text is usually something like this:

Dear Mom,

So the girls, Melinda and I visited the Eiffel Tower today. Man, I didn’t know it was so tall. And it’s amazing how much it looks like the pictures. The line to climb it was so long that we decided to skip that part. But we did take a lot of pictures. I asked the girls to pose with their backs to the camera, looking up at the tower from underneath it. Chloe asked, “Does the Eiffel Tower make my butt look big?” I think there is a right answer to that question. Anyway, after leaving the Eiffel Tower we rode around on the Metro. This guy climbed on at one point and started playing the accordion! Crazy. And inside a tunnel there was an orchestra playing classical music. This isn’t anything like Omaha. Can’t wait to see you when you come to visit in November. Don’t forget to bring the American measuring cups and candy corn. I hope dad is feeling better.

Love, Andy

In 1981 my maternal grandmother, who I called Grammy, took me to Paris. It was just the two of us who went and the trip remains very special to me. My grandmother’s first language was French and she had traveled to Paris as a young woman. Always wanting to go back, she asked me if I’d go with her, treating the trip as my high school graduation present. I honored Grammy on this blog back on August 6th on what would have been her 107th birthday.

Grammy and I flew from Seattle to New York and had to hustle through the New York airport to make a connecting flight to Paris. Unable to sleep on the plane, we arrived in Paris exhausted. We took a taxi to our hotel, an old-fashioned Parisian hotel (“We’re not going all the way to Paris to stay in a Holiday Inn,” Grammy told me.). While waiting to check in, Grammy fell, tripping on a tiny “lip” along the lobby floor that separated it from a seating area. She landed on her face, smack dab on her nose. More angry at herself than hurt, she quickly commented, “At least I didn’t land on anything important!” She was just under 5 feet tall and joked further that she didn’t have far to fall.

Still, she was sore and tired for most of our trip, necessitating a few less outings than we might otherwise have taken. Rather than venturing out on the Metro or calling a taxi, we took to having dinner in our neighborhood. Our favorite place, Café l’Escurial, was just across the street. We went there, I’d say, at least five times, often enough for the servers to recognize us and greet us with enthusiasm (Grammy tipped well, too).

This morning in our Parisian apartment, Melinda, Chloe, Ella and I discussed what we’d like to do in Paris. Trips to the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and lots of shopping topped the list. I added that I wanted to see if the Café l’Escurial was still around and, if it was, go there for at least one meal. To my delight, we discovered it is still here. And we had lunch there today!

Today’s photo was taken of the restaurant from roughly the same spot I took a photo 29 years ago. That old photo was very important to me. It went with me to Alaska in 1982 and adorned my wall. It went with me to Olympia for college and adorned my wall. As a matter of fact, it was up in all of my apartments. When I get back home I’ll be looking for it again.

Who needs the Eiffel Tower when you have Café l’Escurial??

We made it! After fretting all week that our train would be canceled (it was but we got on another), that the train would be packed (it wasn’t), and that demonstrations would make travel impossible for us (they didn’t), we have arrived in Paris. We hustled to the train station in Nantes this afternoon, thinking we’d have to fight for our assigned seats on our 3pm train. As soon as the track number was announced, we high-tailed it out to the platform, located our car and… found our seats. No high drama at all. In fact, no one else was in the car, although others were boarding. After a 30 minute delay we were on our way, and arrived in Paris just after 5:30pm.

The train station in Paris was humming, to say the least. Lots of people, all who seemed to know what they were doing and where they were going. Except us, of course. Chloe, Ella and I used the time-tested strategy of just following Melinda. She hustles through airports and train stations like a person possessed. Remember those old OJ Simpson ads for Hertz Rent-a-Car? I think they inspired Melinda. Honestly, though, it’s not a bad strategy. She found the correct spot for the Metro, bought our tickets (including week-long passes), and even got us on the correct Metro line. Twice! So here we are in our Internet-connected, simple and traditional Parisian apartment. How cool is that?

Melinda made a great observation tonight as we walked back to our apartment after a quick dinner in the neighborhood. She said, “You know. Here we are, having just arrived in Paris and we are already adjusted to the time.” So true, so true. No jet lag to slow us down.

Let the week begin!

This was an odd day. We got up to find that our planned train to Paris scheduled for just before 10am tomorrow had been canceled due to all the demonstrations in France. This was a frustrating turn of events, considering how much we have all been looking forward to the upcoming week. It’s a holiday week for the schools so we bought train tickets and reserved an apartment to spend a week in Paris, our first real opportunity to see Paris since arriving in France. By mid-afternoon, Melinda and I were lucky to get our tickets switched to a later train, thanks to a helpful person at one of train station offices who happened to speak English. In other words, the trip is on and by tomorrow night we should be in Paris.

On our way home from this successful outing, we had to walk a little extra distance because our tram line wasn’t running from the center of town. The reason had nothing to do with strikes or demonstrations, but was because the city was providing tram and bus safety awareness lessons along the tracks. Videos were being shown and people could even operate a bus or the tram (I tried to get Melinda to stand in line to operate the tram – what a blog posting THAT would have been – but it was just taking too long). Anyway, I took this video (something completely different) while we gawked at the tram safety video.

It was of even greater interest to us because it focused on Ella’s school tram stop. Apparently, because of all the students there, it’s one of the most dangerous stops in the city.

Relieved at having gotten the train to Paris situation squared away, we met Frédérique and Laurent at Manon’s volleyball game (they won and Manon was outstanding!). And then we went back to the Boudeaus for dinner, not getting back home until very late, hence this late posting.

Way back in July on what was our third day in France I wrote about my love of coq au vin. I first tasted it in high school and it became one of my favorite meals. Rarely have I had it since so three days on the ground in France and having found a canned version in a Nantes grocery store, I jumped at the chance to eat some.

A couple of nights ago Melinda got inspired to make it from scratch. I could hardly contain my excitement. Since I’m responsible for making most dinners, not only was I getting a night off but I was getting coq au vin! Today’s photo is of me getting in Melinda’s way while she made it, not that you can see me doing that but I’m confident you can create the scene. The dinner was wonderful. To add to its delight, Melinda made enough for leftovers which Chloe, Melinda and I gobbled up today. And that’s the thing about coq au vin, it’s just as good the second day.

One more thing. Watching Melinda spend two hours fixing dinner got me thinking about all the things I didn’t think about when first envisioning a sabbatical year, things like vacuuming, doing the dishes, washing clothes, and cleaning bathrooms. Funny, all those things need to get done here, too.

Meet Tina, one of Chloe’s friends from the University of Nantes. Get this. Tina graduated from Newport High School in Bellevue (just outside of Seattle) and attends the University of Washington. She is in Nantes for a semester studying French. But get this even more. She lives about block from Melinda’s parents in Seattle at a sorority at UW. Crazy, I know. Chloe came all the way to France only to have one of her best friends here live within walking distance of us in Seattle.

Another friend, Hillary, provided today’s picture. After they found out their classes at school had been canceled due to the ongoing demonstrations, Chloe, Tina and Hillary decided to head into town for lunch. Like everyone else trying to move along Line 2 of the tram into town, they had to get out at the site of this demonstration and walk two tram stops to connect with another tram. They stopped their walk long enough to take this picture, which they describe as being very “touristy.”

To learn more about today’s demonstrations along Line 2, I offer you this translated link to the local paper. In the spirit of it being a small world, the picture that accompanies the article was taken outside of Ella’s school, maybe 1/4 mile from where Tina & Chloe posed for this picture. For those that are interested, that’s Ella’s school tram stop in the background of the newspaper photo.