Blessed at Sacre Coeur and then sinned at Dirty Dick!

Sunday was a much slower day (I think), although we still walked for MILES. We started off getting the metro to Les Invalides, a beautiful Baroque-style military museum and retirement home for war veterans. We didn't go in, but it's stunning on the outside and right beside Musee Rodin (79 Rue de Varenne, 75007) which we did visit. Musee Rodin is perfect if you're looking for a bit of peace and quiet, and is free to anyone under 25. 

The Gardens are €1 for an over-25, and to see the museum as well (Hotel Biron where Rodin resided), it's 9€ but definitely worth it as the house is amazing and the sculptures are so thought-provoking including 'The Kiss'. Still in our 'pensive' mood, we walked along the quiet streets of the Left Bank to Jardin du Luxembourg, only to be repeatedly attacked by seagulls and pigeons. There are sculptures dotted around the Jardin and tree-sheltered pathways and we sat by a large pond where children had hired wooden sailing boats and were pushing them out with sticks. I told Ollie he wasn't allowed one...

Our plan for the evening was to go up to Montmartre and have a poke around the Sacre-Coeur. This really is a must see as it's so pretty and different from the rest of Paris. We used our final metro tickets (you can share a 'carnet' of 10 tickets - 13€) to take us to Pigalle, which is like a giant Soho, full of sex shops - It's not somewhere you'd want to be alone after midnight! We took photos outside Moulin Rouge, had a nutella crepe halfway up the hill and checked out 'Cafe des Deux Moulins' (15 Rue Lepic, 75018) - the cafe where Amelie works at in the film, 'Le Fabuleux Destin D'Amelie Poulin'. During my gap year, I followed the steps of Amelie (hence the blog name) and went round Montmartre finding the places used for filming. Sadly, the cafe have removed the garden gnome which used to stand in the side window. 

We walked up the steep hill round the side of the Sacre-Coeur, a huge Basilica resembling the Taj Mahal. Fortunately, by walking up the side of the hill we avoided the little square at the bottom with the carousel (also featured in 'Amelie') and the steps where the 'string con men' lie in wait. The church was packed - obviously being a Sunday everyone thought they'd do something religious, but there were also small Christmas stalls round the front of the church - and a LOT of school trips. We didn't go into the church unfortunately (I've been in before), as Ollie was too interested in watching one of the street performers do a variety of acrobatics on a tiny ledge at the top of the stairs with a football balanced on his head, or doing 'keepy uppies' at the top of a lamp post. For anyone remotely interested in this phenomenon, Youtube 'Sacre Coeur Soccer Skills'.

The sun was starting to set, so we headed over to the artists' square, or 'Place du Tertre' behind the Sacre-Coeur. It really is beautiful, and even more so at dusk just before all the artists pack away. There's painters, caricaturists, sketchers... the whole lot, and they're really really good. It's obviously very touristy round there, so I wouldn't recommend to eat there as you'll be offered an English menu with pictures and a plate of chicken and chips.

We got monumentally lost heading back down the hill - Ollie ignoring my suggestion of walking round to the front and down the steps (oh no, far too straightforward), so after a lot of arguing and map tearing, and having to walk back up a thousand steps we were eventually back in Montmartre/ Pigalle. 

Ollie also had on his list of things to do a bar called 'Dirty Dick' (10, Rue Frochot, 75009), which is not the sort of place that first springs to mind, although the name certainly fits in with the Pigalle surroundings. It is actually a Tiki bar, and one of the places that Sipsmith sells their gin to in Paris (Ollie is head distiller at Sipsmith). It's mental inside -  in a good way - with dim mood lighting, drinks served in giant pineapple or tiki heads, with shots of Chartreuse floating in inside-out limes which are set on fire. The barman was young, easy-going and spoke an array of languages, and the menu was in English which for once I was relieved about because there's nothing like ordering a calm mojito and receiving a flaming zombie. He was definitely a fan of Sipsmith and gave us a shot on the house before we left (sacre bleu!).

I can't remember where we ate on the way back to the hotel that evening... we were still bursting from our crepes so weren't up for much. I do remember, however, that Ollie finally got his Magret du Canard and loved it!

Sky-High Views, Van Gogh, and another food incident.

Saturday morning we were knackered from all the walking we'd done the previous day, so after another ketchup-less breakfast (I mean, what the hell??), we hopped onto the metro straight into Trocadero, and walked along the bank to the Eiffel Tower. The queues are slightly intimidating, but pick a queue that's for the stairs only and it moves relatively fast. Entry to the 2nd floor is 5 euros and 10 to the very top, so we splurged and made the most of it. I'm not scared of heights, but travelling up the thinnest part of the tower in a glass lift would make even the most airbourne-accustomed person to tremble ever so slightly. The view is incredible, but by god is it cold up there! You can see for absolute miles, and still pick out the (tiny) Arc de Triomphe and (tiny) Place Vendome and (tiny) ferris wheel on Place de la Concorde whilst shivering away. 

 

The queues were worse on the second floor - packed with thrill seekers wanting to go to the top, and then a queue for the lift back down. All this took us about 4 hours, but it was a good start to the day (and a good leg workout climbing all those stairs!). 

Later on after exploring a bit more of the left bank we went into Musee D'Orsay at about 4.45, and were delighted to find that they were letting everyone in for free (possibly an hour before closing). Ollie, being the frugal worry-guts was overjoyed, and me, not a fan of spending too long in a museum or art gallery was also pretty pleased. We ran round all the rooms in the old-station, pausing to look at works of Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec (a favourite , and explaining to Ollie about pointillism (dotty paintings) with my GCSE knowledge of art history. 

Ollie had done a bit of research before we went on holiday to see where all the craft ale pubs in Paris were, so we headed over to 'The Frog & Rosbif' (116 Rue Saint-Denis, 75002) for a pint of beer. Upon arrival, I realised he'd lured me in under (nearly) false pretences as this was basically a sports bar with every English-person in Paris (known to the French as 'le rosbif's', as apparently we all like roast beef), crammed round several screens to watch the rugby. We stayed for a pint (and wine), but we did not stay for dinner which had been Ollie's plan. Instead we walked around Chatelet, a place where I spent a large portion of my gap year and found a little restaurant to have a meal at, called La Fresque (100 Rue Rambuteau, 75001). The decor is very 'French' - tiled walls, pictures and posters plastering every inch of wall space, and tables crammed in. The wine was delicious, we shared a board of delicious and thick salmon gravlax to start, and MY meal of beef was amazing... I think you can tell where I'm going with this... 

Oliver thought it would be wise to attempt another bit of 'traditional' French cuisine, by shunning the Magret de Canard (tasty duck breast) for Steak Tartare. We were both aware of what steak tartare is, but perhaps not what it actually tastes like. It turned up looking like they'd tipped a pot of raw mince meat onto a plate and cracked a raw egg on top... and voila! I tried some, and whilst I can see why it's a 'delicacy', it really has no flavour however much you try and disguise it with the onions, gherkins and other bits of pickles provided. Poor Ollie!

Second Day in Paris: Champs Elysees, Chanel, and Chocolat Chaud!

We started the day with a hearty breakfast at the hotel (I was devastated to find there was no ketchup) and pioneered across Paris to Charles de Gaulle place/ Arc de Triomphe. If you ever visit Paris with me, we’ll walk for miles as it really is the best way to see everything. 

We stop off via Galleries Lafayette on Boulevard Haussmann for squirts of perfume, a photo of the stunning glass domed roof and to stare at the beautiful Christmas windows. At the Arc de Triomphe we decide only to walk around under it/ at street level – and not to climb the 284 steps to the top. The view there is tremendous, as all the roads lead up to the Arc de Triomphe so I was slightly sad to miss out on the serious leg-workout and rewarding view.

After a walk down the Champs Elysees, we find ourselves (joyfully) at the Christmas market at the bottom. I’d wanted to do the holiday in December for this very reason – the markets – so was delighted that they’d set up their Chalet-style huts of goodies by mid-November. It’s better than any Christmas market you’ve experienced in England – instead of useless wooden crafts and a pitiful handful of food stalls with nothing to sample, the boulevard is like being in Christmas town, with smells of paella, tartiflette (a tray of cheesy artery-clogging stodge), mulled wine, salamis, chocolate fountains and churros (weird and at the same time amazing sticks of doughnut) and so much more. Once I’d pulled Ollie away from the salami stand, we head for Place Vendome (designer heaven), Place de Concorde, Jardin des Tuileries, Rue Rivoli (home to the ONLY WHSmiths in France), and my favourite place for hot chocolate in the whole wide world: Angelina’s.

We ventured into Chanel on Place Vendome which I’d never done before, and probably won’t be doing it again unless I have money burning a hole in my pocket - it was definitely an experience though! Ollie seemed quite serious about buying a necklace until he discovered it was an alarming 45,000 euros. We moved on for a well-deserved sit down at Angelina’s, (226 Rue Rivoli, 75001, www.angelina-paris.fr/en) and a jug of their Chocolate Chaud L’Ancienne (which is literally double cream and chocolate paste).

Later that evening we visit another one of ‘Granny’s recommendations’. This time it’s a place I only know as ‘Kevin’s place’ as the owner is a family friend. I had to take a photo of the shop name just so I would remember it! It’s called ‘Au Tour D’un Verre’ (21, Rue Trevise 75009), and the last time I ate there at the age of 14, I ordered the sole and threw a wobbly when it came out complete with skin, head, and a ton of bones. I still remain very grateful to my Granny, who, ignored my tantrum and patiently removed all the skin and bones (including the head).

Our meal at Kevin’s was even better than imagined – it’s a small bohemian styled room where the kitchen is part of it and all the furniture is mismatched. The menu is a chalkboard that circles the room, with a two course meal at 25€ (lunch is 16€) and menu options changing every other day or so. We had a beautiful and romantic evening with delicious Beaujolais red, starting with ceviche, and skagew (raw cured haddock, and melt in the mouth crayfish on toasts), followed by pork tenderloin and a fillet of cod (which has a reputation of being ‘stunning’, and absolutely was). Our two course meal served with wine and unlimited baguette came to 58€. This is another place I REALLY recommend!  

Back to where it all began...

For those who have been dipping into this blog now and then or have randomly stumbled across it within the last three years, the first year of this blog (2010) documents tales and adventures from my gap year in Paris, au-pairing for a crazy family with a horrendous dirty dog called 'Speedy'. For those die-hard fans who began my journey with me, car-booting all my belongings and signing up with an au-pair agency, thank you for your support...and you'll be pleased to know (or at least find this fact mildly funny) that about a year ago, Speedy went missing (I obviously didn't try hard enough during my stay there).

Anyway, this is not a blog post about animal cruelty/ enjoying the misfortune of flea-ridden pets. This is actually quite a special series of blog posts coming up as I am on my way back to where it all started, in the form of a long weekend in Paris with my boyfriend of three and a half years.

Walking round St Pancras is quite surreal, noticing the metal chairs outside Le Pain Quotidien where I sat with my brother and my dad with an obscene amount of luggage awaiting my Eurostar to independence. Oliver and I arrive in Paris at 5pm on Thursday and after dropping off our baggage at the 'Eurostars Panorama Hotel' (9, Rue des Messageries 75010, www.eurostarshotels.co.uk), the place my Granny treated me to when she came to visit me one time. We then walked straight into the centre of Paris to the Louvre Rivoli, where the glass pyramid of Musee du Louvre was beautifully lit up with a red lightening bolt feature running down the centre. A romantic stroll along The Seine, and a gawp at the horrific mess that is Pont des Arts - opaque with mountains of padlocks, once a romantic gesture and now a terribly sad site. You can see certain parts of of the bridge which have been boarded up after huge chunks of the metal bars have fallen away into the water under the weight of the padlocks. We walk on via the opera house, which I once read in a book being described as 'a hippopotamus taking a bath'. I don't see it, but the building is absolutely beautiful in both daylight and dusk. One day I'd actually like to go inside it. 

After a bit of reminiscing and showing Ollie the free and beautiful riverside and streets of Paris (I love how you can just 'walk in' on a monument... in the centre of a roundabout or outside a metro station) we head over to Chartier, a traditional French experience serving traditional French cuisine (Chartier, 7 Rue du Faubourg Montmartre, 75009, www.bouillon-chartier.com/en/). I'd been there before, but it wasn't such a great experience and after checking out the menu before leaving for Paris we decided it'd be foolish to miss out on due to it's extraordinarily good prices - 1-4€ for an entree and Plats du jour at 9-11€. On busy nights you should expect to queue down the alley way outside (booking not available), although it's 'Wagamama' style in seating arrangements ensures that smaller groups of one or two people have a better chance of skipping the line. Chartier's approach is 'bums on seats' so be prepared to be stacked to the rafters and on the laps of other people you're sharing your table with. Don't let this put you off - the atmosphere is just incroyable and our waiter was surprisingly friendly and helped decipher the menu. I strongly recommend the celeriac remoulade in particular, but the tomato salad and foie gras are also very tasty and make a delicious starter (to share), and my steak saignant (rare). 

Le Petit Incident. 

There are two types of veal on le menu de Chartier: Cote de Veau (shoulder) and Tete de Veau (head).  Through our discussion with the waiter about the difference between the two, there may have been a slight error in the ordering process, when Ollie said 'cote' and the waiter wrote down 'tete'. And whilst Ollie thought that 'head' most likely meant 'cheek', neither of us were prepared for the huge plate of offal that subsequently arrived. The part that has stuck most in my mind was the large piece of tongue which curled round the back of the bowl - with a large furry white side, looking like tripe. Fortunately, the waiter found the funny side of Ollie's face of horror, and returned it back to the kitchen to replace it with a more tastier looking dish of veal shoulder. Meanwhile I tucked into a juicy, bloody steak and haricot-verts (green beans).

Oliver looking much happier once he'd got his veal chop!

 

Chartier is very much a hidden secret, and if you're after an efficient, delicious and traditional experience for 50€ for two (three courses, 2 carafes of house red), then add this one to your list.