In The Toronto Star Weekly on February 4th, 1922, Ernest Hemingway wrote an article about living in Paris on $1,000 a year. In it he celebrates the robust exchange rate of the Canandian and US dollar compared to the franc…12.5 francs = 1 dollar. His hotel cost 12 francs a day, his breakfast cost 2 francs and a trip on the metro a mere 4 cents. In his words, “Exchange is a wonderful thing!” Ah, how times have changed! :). In fact here in Paris, I only have 2 rules for myself; I do not talk about the dollar to euro exchange rate nor the US stock market. Both could probably cause me panic attacks if I kept too close a tabs on either…so my simple rule in both cases is ignorance is bliss! 🙂
Good News! J’ai déménagé last Saturday! I am now in a total different world on the Left bank of the Seine. Gone is my Paris of old with the diverse neighborhood of the West and North Africans (where I stood out like a sore thumb!) and where my Malian neighbors yelled (lovingly) at each other at the Mangrove Bar and gambled cards on the hoods of cars until late at night. Now I am in the glamorous et très parisian 7eme arrondissement. It is amazing how quickly I adapted to my previous neighborhood because I was quite shocked to see SOOOO many white people over here. 🙂 The chic shopping street next to my apartment is dotted with men and women wearing striped tops and yellow or pink bottoms. Their hair is shiny and slick and their cars are Audis or Maseratis. In fact my neighbor just a few blocks down is the Prime Minister of this great nation. I am going through culture shock and I only moved a 15 minute cab ride away! However, I am quite certain I will adapt just fine (probably too well) to my new uppercrust quartier. I have already grown a bit too attached to a few of the boutiques.
This is the salon in my new apartment! Très beau, oui!?
I was lucky to find through mutual friends an American woman who works for Microsoft that was looking for a roommate! I now get to spend my next 10 months in a beautiful (and Italian decorated!) Haussmannian style Parisian apartment with a dynamic, French-speaking expat named Paula. The apartment is truly amazing and I think my new roomie and I will get on like 2 pees in a pod!
The fleurs on the table are from a local florist/flirt named Tony.
This frommagerie, touted as one of the best in Paris, is a quick 5 minute jaunt from my new front door. It is the size of a shoebox, but houses over 200 cheeses. Every inch is covered with different raw milk camemberts, compté, beaufort and these adorably stuffed little goats :). It is icebox cold when you walk in and the women inside definitely know their stuff. I particularly enjoyed during my visit that no english was spoken….so I had to reach deep into my French vocab to ask what was best to pair with a Cote de Provence rosé I was serving that night. The recommendation of 3 different chèvres was exceptional!
As a note, it is SOLDES season here in France!!
Twice a year Parisians indulge in a tradition that we Americans get to treat ourselves to every weekend (especially now with the down economy)…sales up to 70% off the retail price. Believe it or not, the French government doesn’t allow items to be discounted (without penalty) outside one of these 2 month long sale periods. So up until the 26th of July one can expect all the stores to be in complete disarray, lines to be long to the fitting room, and manners to be disregarded as women and men dig through sale racks. I have been elbowed, feet stomped on and shoved without one “pardon” from the offending patron…but I shrug it off. I understand their appetite for the sale…especially with such a drought in between opportunities.
This is a tame scene from a Zara clothing store near my new apartment. When I see such chaos I usually walk in and then walk out. So far the soldes have yielded me 3 robes (dresses) and 1 manteau (coat).
Escargot!
My new walk to school involves walking down the boutique lined Rue de Bac, across the Pont Royal (build by Louis XIV during his reign in the late 1600s), through the Louvre (I walk through the Porte de Lions every morning…how insane is that!) and then towards the Opera on my way to L’Atelier 9. A cafe I pass by both morning and night, named Cafe St. Germain, is alway packed with well-heeled folks drinking champagne and eating salads. I figured with all those people it had to be good, oui? Last night I was able to sample their plat du jour (beouf bourguignon) and try these tasty yet hard to extract 🙂 morsels with a group of friends. I experienced what the fuss was about.
I am looking forward to further discovering all the 7eme has to offer…I think we will be a good match! I leave you with one fun discovery that happened yesterday on the metro….
A boy with a bird!
I witnessed this duo on the Metro from my stop at Sevres-Babylone to Concorde! It was the cutest and darndest thing!
He, the bird, just sat perched on the little can of food between the legs of the garcon while the garcon drew pictures of dragons. The bird would pop his head in and out of the can to grab some seeds and then deposit the little shells all over the train floor.
I could only stare (and take 2 pictures)…at one point I was staring so much the gentleman friend I was with said, “Jen, I am over here.”
Yeah, but the adorable little boy and bird is over there :).
