France Days 1 & 2

To start off, the flight from Seattle to Iceland was LONG. It was 7 hours total, but we were in an exit row, so at least we had a lot of leg room. Our 1 hour layover in Reykjavik was no big deal, although by the time we got there, I was completely exhausted. One positive was that we had to check our bags (European flights apparently are stricter on carry-on size) so we didn't have to to worry about lugging 2 heavy bags around. Score!

Side note: Nick had a shrimp salad sandwich at the airport in Reykjavik and loved it. I'll have to try making it when we get home.

Upon getting to Paris (a short 3-hour flight from Reykjavik), we took a taxi ride from the airport to our hotel, which took about 30 minutes. The surrounding suburbs of Paris are not an impressive sight. Many modern buildings and LOTS of graffiti sprinkled all over made it feel very gritty. Our hotel, however, was anything but. The Hotel Castex is a great place to stay in Paris. It is close to the metro and, therefore, it's just a short walk and subway ride to get anywhere you need to go. The neighborhood was beautiful too.

Our room was a nice surprise. It was spacious, for Paris, pleasant and filled with wrought iron accents.


Dinner in Paris: Our 1st experience in ordering.
Finally, real French food at the Reveil Bastille.

Once we made it into Paris at around 2 in the afternoon, we took showers and short naps and then went out for dinner and a long walk to combat the jet lag. Here is our first view of the Seine River.

At the restaurant, Nick decided to be brave and ordered the steak tartare. Yep, raw meat and a raw egg mixed with capers, onions, and some other stuff. He liked it (weirdo). He said the texture was very soft and he'd order it again, but it wouldn't be his first choice. I had a little bite and had to fight back a gag. I have serious texture issues and my brain was screaming, "YOU'RE EATING RAW MEAT! SPIT IT OUT!" The flavor wasn't bad at all though, for the record.

After "reading" the menu and trying to figure it out, I thought I'd get steak cheval (or something to that effect) until Nick found cheval in the phrase book. Yeah, that's horse. Um, no. I ordered poulet rotî a frites. Roasted chicken and fries, in other words. We had bread with the meal, créme brûlée for dessert, and café at the end of the meal. Café comes in very small cups and is essentially a shot of very dark and bold espresso. All thoughts of going back to bed ended with that little cup.

So, no longer tired, and a little jittery from the jolt of caffeine, we walked about 3 miles around the neighborhood. The buildings were beautiful and old. Some needed a bit of repair.

We took some pictures of the monument at the Place de Bastille.

We also walked along the Seine-all this occurred between 8:30 and 10:30pm. The Seine has boats cruises as soon as it gets dark that light up the city streets as they go by.

The Seine also has many bridges, most built by kings and emperors.

This is a city that never sleeps and watch where you walk! The bikers (motorcycles and scooters) drive like crazy people!

One interesting thing we noted was the massive amount of restaurants. There is one on every corner and multiple in between. And there's everything you can think of to eat: sushi, Thai food, Japanese cuisine, and, of course, all things French. And everyone smokes in Paris-something I'm not too fond of. Blech! Hold your breath a lot. (On a side note, by the end of the trip, we didn't notice the smell of cigarettes as much. I guess you get used to it, but still-yuck!)

Clothing is also very fashion forward here. Women in leggings and skinny jeans with boots were all over. Everywhere there are boots! No tennis shoes here, but lots of high-heeled boots. Darks colors, scarves, and beautifully draped tops and wraps are everywhere too. It's easy to feel out of place in tourist gear. Unfortunately, as in any big city, there are plenty of homeless people sleeping on sidewalks and in large boxes under the bridges. It's quite a sad juxtaposition.

One interesting bonus we found was that all historical markers are in French, so Nick can't read it! This means less time spent staring at historically significant monuments, buildings, objects, etc. I'm all for anything historical, but I don't want to stare at a rock for 45 minutes every 5 steps. And in Paris, EVERYTHING has a historical significance. It's mind-boggling.

Great moment of the day: Asking for l'addiction (the check) in French and the French-speaking waiter getting really excited for me. (Up to that point, it had been a lot of gesturing, pointing, and yes and no nodding to order.) I said merci a lot and excuse moi once too. I speak French better than Nick, who took three useless years in high school-and remembers none of it.

And that sums up days 1-2. Tomorrow, day 3!