From Paris with Love (and Tough Luck)

This weekend the three of us ventured out of the country for the second time, destination: France. We were fortunate enough to be able stay at an apartment with eight other girls, which saved us from the struggles of shoving our backpacks into tiny lockers and worrying about being taken in the middle of the night. I, however, was unfortunate (and dumb) enough to leave my camera at home, and anyone who’s traveled with me knows that my camera is on more than it is off when I’m traveling someplace new. Thankfully, my iPod has a camera… a selfie cam. So I took selfies for the rest of the trip, looking more touristy than I’m sure I ever have. But hey, at least I wasn’t one of those people holding up massive iPads, obstructing everyone else’s views. Phew.  

After landing in Paris at about 10:00 and having missed one of Mari’s cherished dinners, the three of us rummaged through the refrigerator and cupboards of the apartment. For dinner we had: carbs, carbs, and more carbs. It is Europe, after all.

Friday morning we woke up bright and (relatively) early to head to Versailles. None of us had really gathered our bearings just yet, but we eventually made our way to the metro stop. After we tried (and failed) to figure out the ticket machines, I decided to put my French to the test and ask the lady working at the ticket booth nearby for help. What followed was a kind of Frenglish that I couldn’t re-form even if I tried, and I was ready to give up. Cue Fairy Godmother, in the form of an elderly (beret-wearing!) French woman. She appeared almost magically amidst the foul-smelling French metro, her grace capturing the attention of us all. Some say to this day that she floated in on a cloud of fairy dust, but what you believe is up to you… This petite old lady waltzed up to us and offered to help us (in impeccable English) navigate our way to Versailles. She escorted us on our first leg of the trip, and we were sad to say goodbye, shouting out “Merci beaucoup!” as we left the train. 

Although it was raining when we got out onto the street, nothing could put a damper on our moods as we gazed at the splendor of the palace. We meandered through the palace with the accompaniment of an audio tour (none of us brought headphones, so we held the audio devices to our ears like brick-phones. Needless to say we looked like goons from the nineties).  Nonetheless, we learned about Le Nôtre and the prestige he held as the designer of the Versailles gardens. We also saw Marie Antoinette’s bedroom, and of course the gorgeous hall of mirrors.

The Palace of Versailles and all its beauty

When the three of us finished making our way through the palace, we found ourselves sans our 4 friends who came with us. After waiting in the entrance to the palace for a while, discussing our plan of action, we quickly came to the stark realization that we had become stranded in an unfamiliar town, void of keys to our apartment, void of the address of our apartment. Panic promptly set in, and we scurried to a McDonald’s with the hope that free Wi-Fi and Viber would save us. Two hours, six Principe cookies, and countless “Urgent, please help us” messages later, we managed to find our apartment’s address. How, you might ask? Well, the sole thing we knew about our apartment was that it was across from an Office Depot. I searched each Office Depot in the Paris area on Google Maps (there are an astonishing 17. Does that seem like a rather large number to anyone else?). Lucky number 9 was the winner, and Google Maps Street View beheld the entrance to our apartment. No words can describe the relief the three of us felt: that we wouldn’t have to helplessly call the cops and break down crying, that we wouldn’t have to ditch Paris all together and have a taxi take us to airport and head straight back to Madrid, and that we wouldn’t have to sit in that trying McDonald’s for any longer. Now, before I move on with the description of the rest of our trip, I must take a moment to thank the American companies that saved our souls that fateful day. Thank you Google Maps for your Street View capabilities, Office Depot for your (strangely recurrent) presence in Europe, and lastly, thank you McDonald’s (as much as I hate to admit it) for your free Wi-Fi. You guys really came through for us.

When we arrived back in Paris, safe and sound, we visited the elegant Louvre Museum. We wandered through the galleries, Renatta commenting on the statues’ anatomical proportions (she thinks she’s a curator or something) and Mal taking selfies with the Mona Lisa. We finished the night with dinner at a nearby café, where I enjoyed crepes with eggs, cheese and ham, and Mal and Renatta each ate a Croque Monsieur. Yum.

Just in time for sunset

Day 2 in Paris brought an abundance of pictures at the Eiffel tower, banana and Nutella crêpes, a promenade along the lock bridge and the Seine, a visit to the beautiful Notre Dame, several bowls of French Onion soup, a moment of silence for Princess Diana at her memorial, the most delicious macaroons at Ladurée, selling the gourmet pastries since 1862, and a stroll along the famous Champs-Elysées. We took a Hop On, Hop Off tour, a great investment, which took us to these famous sites in Paris. Even though some of the drivers were a little on the strange side, one of them taking the liberty of combing his fingers through my hair and calling Carly a “good banana,” all in all it was a good time. Plus, we were able to learn a little about the immense history of the city. For instance, the Louvre was originally built as a fortress, and Champs-Elysées is such a touristy part of the city that French is actually only the 2^nd most spoken language in the area.

This cheesy pose turned out to be a real gem

Although we got rained on that night (actually, we got hailed on and completely soaked), when we arrived at the Trocadéro, a plaza across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower, we were met by upbeat Jamaican music and danced along, umbrellas in hand. After taking (believe it or not) more pictures of the Eiffel Tower, we made our way back to the apartment, eating dinner along the way. Renatta, Meghan and I found a small restaurant called L’Angle, where we enjoyed duck, salmon, chocolate mousse, and crème brulée, of course. Our waiter was not impressed by my French, something he made clear when he revealed that he was from Madrid and we were able to end the game of Charades we’d been playing all night and speak in Spanish. I don’t think we had ever been more relieved to hear a foreign language.

Our last day in Paris came along more quickly than we had anticipated, and it was time to head back home (Madrid? Home? Crazy.) Unfortunately, Easy Jet decided to take its sweet time getting everyone to board, and we ended up taking off 45 minutes late. To top it off, the guy sitting between Renatta and I had to tempt us by buying Pringles and a hot ham and cheese sandwich. Save it for the airport, dude. Needless to say we were happy when we landed in Spain, Renatta proclaiming her love for the stench-free, easily understood Madrid Metro. We made our way back to 4D, and were welcomed home with Mari’s delicious chicken empanadas.