Ariel in Paris

I spent the weekend with my cousin (see previous post about my use of the term "cousin") Ariel. I hadn't really hung out with anyone at that weird age halfway between my generation and our kids, and I was afraid it would be awkward and she'd hate me for being old and lame. But I had a great time, and I don't think she left hating me but who knows with kids these days.

Friday, July 13

I took the day off on Friday and we spent the whole afternoon shopping and wandering between tourist sites. We visited Marais while I searched for a wedding gift, walked past the Hotel de Ville, Notre Dame, and Ile Saint-Louis for Berthillion ice cream on the bank of the Seine. Then back to rue Rivoli and finally home to meet Dave for dinner.

One of Dave's colleagues invited us to an outdoor world music concert at Bastille, and we headed out a bit too late around 11. We caught the tail end the concert, couldn't find his colleague, and joined the crush of people on the metro back home.

The bummer about the Paris metro is that it stops early, the last train getting into the last station at 1:15 a.m. That means the early stops on the lines are done around 12:45. On the weekends it runs a little later, but we never remember the exact times and are always paranoid about being stranded in the city (and too cheap to consider a cab). So we were all wide awake on Friday night but jumped on a train home just in case.

Saturday, July 14 - Fête Nationale
Saturday morning we all slept in late, then Ariel and I went out for the day again while David went running. This turned out to be a bad move for Dave as it was finally hot outside and he wasn't used to the weather.
Ariel and I went up to Montmartre, which was even more packed than usual with tourists. We browsed the art galleries, souvenier shops, and artists' easels, then walked back down the hill to the Moulin Rouge. Next to the Champs-Elysees for lunch and shopping and the Arc de Triomphe. On the Champs-Elysees we stopped for a small parade of war veterans marching up to the Arc for some kind of Bastille Day celebration.

By the way, the French don't call it "Bastille Day", it's "Fête Nationale". Why does the rest of the world call it Bastille Day then?

We met Dave at home for dinner again, then deliberated over which fireworks we wanted to see. Eventually we decided that a trip to the Eiffel Tower would become another stressful metro ordeal, so we walked out to the Seine in Levallois for the local fireworks.

As it turned out we had read the posters in town wrong and the fireworks had been the night before. We weren't the only ones, however; there had to be at least 100 other confused people at the river with us. We finally gave up after 45 minutes and left.

On the way back I wanted to take Ariel to the Bals des Pompiers, which is an annual party held by the firemen of Paris all over the city on Fête Nationale. I knew there was one in Levallois, but I wasn't sure about the address and lead us the wrong way a few times. Dave was getting less and less amused so I sent him home while Ariel and I continued to hunt.

We finally found it, a small courtyard between municipal buildings thumping out dance music. Entry was free, drinks were cheap (and somehow girls got deep discounts, huh), and everyone was having a great time. There were people ranging in age from 10 to at least 50, all mixing and dancing together. The firemen prowled around in their uniforms, getting plenty of attention from the girls and obviously enjoying it.

Most of the music was English, but there were some French songs including "Oh What a Night" with French lyrics. Ariel and I sang the English lyrics loudly, at least the words we could remember. We danced and sang and dodged creepy guys for a while before finally wearing out and walking home.

Sunday, July 15

Sunday was the kickoff of a new bike rental program in Paris and I was really excited to try it. After visiting the market, Ariel and I took the metro into the Saint Michel area and walked around until we found a set of bikes. We waited in line while people tried to figure out the payment kiosk, and finally had a chance to try it. However, the "English" button didn't work, and my French wasn't good enough to understand the directions. So we gave up and walked to another set of bikes. Another line, another wait, another French-speaking-only kiosk. How French, to pretend that it didn't speak English!

So I was pretty disappointed by that but I guess I can always try it later. Ariel and I walked over to Châtelet and bought tickets to see the new Harry Potter movie, then had a few Oranginas at a local cafe while we waited to meet Dave.

During the movie we tried French popcorn (salty, not sweet, no butter). Ariel and I both enjoyed the movie but I think Dave wasn't as impressed. Of course he hasn't read the books, either. I kept leaning over to tell him "That's his godfather", "That's the minister of magic", "It's complicated, I'll tell you about it later," but I don't think he was that interested to know.

After the movie we drove Ariel back to chez LeBihan with shopping bags in tow.

I'd say we had a pretty successful weekend, despite the non-fireworks and the French-speaking bike rentals. We made up for it with great weather, good ice cream, and a fireman party.