I like trains. I took them enough in India, but in Europe they are nice. Somehow a 750km train ride in India take 12 hours while in Europe it takes about 6. Depending on how many stops, it can be much faster.
So, on my itinerary was a visit to Armagnac. You might have heard that I'm a brandy fanatic, and well, going to France without visiting a few of my favorite brandy chateaux would be simply an insult to all the is good in this world. Ok, maybe not to EVERYTHING. But I'd certainly be remiss to neglect such an opportunity. Off I go. It's a tricky thing getting to Armagnac. You may have never heard of armagnac because it is completely overshadowed by it more commercial relative Cognac. Everyone has heard of cognac. Of course, rap music has something to do with that. Hennessey, Remy-Martin, Martell, and Couvoisier are the four well known major houses and they have gained some notoriety. Why, I can't tell you exactly, because the brandy they make is, generally speaking, far inferior to the really good cognac houses. I guess it's all a matter of marketing and branding. Look at Jack Daniel's... In any case, there is another reason Cognac is much more popular. It's because there is a major river in Cognac. Armagnac is essentially landlocked. Cognac had a much easier time distributing its product, and therefore it gained more popularity. But mind you, Armagnac just celebrated its 700th year of making grape brandy. So, the tradition and the quality are far superior in armagnac (that's an opinion, but I think a well founded one).
What does all that have to do with getting a train to armagnac? Well, the point is that you CAN'T actually get a train to armagnac. You have to catch a train to bordeaux or to mont de marsan and then rent a car, or hire an expensive taxi. Mont de Marsan is significantly closer to Labistide D'Armagnac, so I decided taking the train there would be a better call. Then to rent a car... Avis was the only place that had car rental, so that made the decision quite a bit easier. It was perhaps too expensive, but once I saw Labastide D'Armagnac, well, let's just say, renting a car was the best course of action...
A fun little navigation through southwest france, and 25 miles later was Chateau du Prada.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Chennai Super Kings: BRING IT
I called it! I called it from day one. Chennai Super Kings win the Indian Premiere League! I called that from day one. I also said that they'd beat the Mumbai Indians. Turns out, that was the championship match.
I have had the serious good fortune of being in cities when a bat and ball championship has occurred. For example 2005 Chicago White Sox! Also, 2008 Phillies! Now 2010 Chennai Super Kings! Of course I was not in chennai for the game or the celebrations, but I did support the team for the whole tournament.
I have this thing about supporting sporting. Somehow, sports are one thing that can really unite people locally (or regionally or nationally) across religion and politics.
Example: most right thinking americans will cheer for an american in the olympics. Of course we have the disease of having TOO MANY revisionists who wish to see the United States do poorly in everything (until of course it comes to their own personal finances), but in general, I think Americans cheer for Americans. Chicagoans cheer for Chicago teams (Cubs/Sox is an exception), Philladelphians cheer for Philly teams, Chennaikers cheer for the Chennai Super Kings (there are no other teams).
For what it's worth, I, myself, needed something for which to cheer concerning my time in Chennai and I actually like cricket. My close Indian friend doesn't like it, but that's because he's bitter about the fact that academics get paid shit while cricketers make more money each year than he will in a lifetime working in India. To be fair, I have the same gripes with professional athletes in the United States, but I got over it. They simply make more money, that's life. Life is unfair, cricket is awesome.
After a grueling regular season in which the super kings (what a shitty name!) were relegated to next to last in the standings after an abysmal 5 match losing streak, things began to look up. They won 3 in a row. Lost 1, then proceeding to kick ass and take names all the way to the semifinals and then crush sachin tendulkar and his elite batsmanship all the way to the tune of IPL champs! BOO YA! Go Super Kings. Also, Matthew Hayden is my boy!
I have had the serious good fortune of being in cities when a bat and ball championship has occurred. For example 2005 Chicago White Sox! Also, 2008 Phillies! Now 2010 Chennai Super Kings! Of course I was not in chennai for the game or the celebrations, but I did support the team for the whole tournament.
I have this thing about supporting sporting. Somehow, sports are one thing that can really unite people locally (or regionally or nationally) across religion and politics.
Example: most right thinking americans will cheer for an american in the olympics. Of course we have the disease of having TOO MANY revisionists who wish to see the United States do poorly in everything (until of course it comes to their own personal finances), but in general, I think Americans cheer for Americans. Chicagoans cheer for Chicago teams (Cubs/Sox is an exception), Philladelphians cheer for Philly teams, Chennaikers cheer for the Chennai Super Kings (there are no other teams).
For what it's worth, I, myself, needed something for which to cheer concerning my time in Chennai and I actually like cricket. My close Indian friend doesn't like it, but that's because he's bitter about the fact that academics get paid shit while cricketers make more money each year than he will in a lifetime working in India. To be fair, I have the same gripes with professional athletes in the United States, but I got over it. They simply make more money, that's life. Life is unfair, cricket is awesome.
After a grueling regular season in which the super kings (what a shitty name!) were relegated to next to last in the standings after an abysmal 5 match losing streak, things began to look up. They won 3 in a row. Lost 1, then proceeding to kick ass and take names all the way to the semifinals and then crush sachin tendulkar and his elite batsmanship all the way to the tune of IPL champs! BOO YA! Go Super Kings. Also, Matthew Hayden is my boy!
Vietnamese Food in Paris
Bahn Mi. It is among the best thing that has ever been concocted and simultaneously called a sandwich. But I didn't eat it in Paris. I did, however, seek out (like an eagle hunting an injured bird) a small vietnamese section in town to find pho.
I had COMPLETELY forgotten that Vietnam was a French colony not so long ago. Actually, I hadn't forgotten, but merely missed the connection when I got to Paris. I guess I was just so relieved to get to europe after months in the much further east. Paris surprised me with how well mixed the culture is. But the idea that I should find french speaking vietnamese resteraunteurs shouldn't have surprised me at all. Anyway, I was told there was "something like chinatown, except from vietnam." I knew what that meant. It meant I'd found a place where my nose would be happy. So, of course I went.
Funny thing: I have a hard enough time ordering vietnamese food in english... French just flabbergasted me. But somehow I managed to order pho. Basically the point and smile technique works everywhere. Sadly, I didn't get my pho with tendon and brisket, but I got whatever "normal" thing they serve. Oh, did I enjoy it.
What was more important to me, was trying to remember all the places that the french colonizers had gone. I came up with a long list of them and realized that there is a long list of ethnic tastiness to be had in Paris. Bistros, fine, beef tartar, completely delicious, but pho, tabbouleh, west african specialties, south indian things, etc. Paris offers a lot of tasty treats which are NOT french. I like that. I could be happy with that for a long time.
I had COMPLETELY forgotten that Vietnam was a French colony not so long ago. Actually, I hadn't forgotten, but merely missed the connection when I got to Paris. I guess I was just so relieved to get to europe after months in the much further east. Paris surprised me with how well mixed the culture is. But the idea that I should find french speaking vietnamese resteraunteurs shouldn't have surprised me at all. Anyway, I was told there was "something like chinatown, except from vietnam." I knew what that meant. It meant I'd found a place where my nose would be happy. So, of course I went.
Funny thing: I have a hard enough time ordering vietnamese food in english... French just flabbergasted me. But somehow I managed to order pho. Basically the point and smile technique works everywhere. Sadly, I didn't get my pho with tendon and brisket, but I got whatever "normal" thing they serve. Oh, did I enjoy it.
What was more important to me, was trying to remember all the places that the french colonizers had gone. I came up with a long list of them and realized that there is a long list of ethnic tastiness to be had in Paris. Bistros, fine, beef tartar, completely delicious, but pho, tabbouleh, west african specialties, south indian things, etc. Paris offers a lot of tasty treats which are NOT french. I like that. I could be happy with that for a long time.
The Hidden Nieghborhoods or Paris
I don't know how much I can claim to have visited the "hidden" neighborhoods of Paris, but I certainly made it into neighborhoods with very few tourists, and a much SMALLER proportion of english speakers. By the way, Thank you Parisians for putting up with my English. Thank you even more for putting up with my insultingly horrid C+ first semester level French! That helped me out a lot.
First Stop: Canal St. Martin.
If you've seen the film Amelie, and remember it... There is a scene in which she in skipping stones on a canal. This scene also offers perhaps some of the BEST filmwork of the early 2000's. It's a really fluid shot that goes from behind her, over her head and in front of her to just above the stone that seems as if it will hit the camera.
THAT:
That is Canal St. Martin. It is really lovely. The only tourists around are on canal cruise boats and so they aren't walking around bothering the normal crowd. Had a "Kebab" from a nearby turkish restaurant and somehow managed to plop my ass down to eat it right next to the canal flanked on all sides by lesbians enjoying the hell out of their sunday afternoons and girlfriends. Saw a guy with a remote control motorboat causing havoc with some of the canal's geese. Great amusement. The "kebab" or what we lebanese know as shawarma was decent. I do have to say, the donner kebabs all over Europe are TOTALLY subpar to those in Lebanon. If Turkey's Kebabs are really done that way, then I should make a habit of inviting people to Lebanon just for eating. Seriously, I know Turkey has a great culinary tradition (or has at least stolen many great culinary traditions from those it has conquered), but their Donner Kebabs as just not that good! Anyway, it was still delicious on a Sunday afternoon in Paris. I was still on the look out for Biere de Garde and when I spotted a group of kids with a bottle I immediately went to them and asked where they got it. They pointed me in some direction and I went.
On the way to the beer store, I got sidetracked again.
Second Stop: Little Jafna (or Little Sri Lanka).
As I mentioned before, I got REALLY excited about visiting a Tamil speaking Sri Lankan neighborhood in Paris. I really like Sri Lankan food, and I can even ask for it in Tamil. This will SURELY get me superb service and instant friends. What I found instead of Sri Lankans were Indians who don't speak Tamil, and an influx of Chinese. There were a few stores that sold Indian clothing, but were closed on Sunday Afternoon. I had no idea that Indians would ever close a shop if they had opportunity to make money. I was totally shocked. So in fact, I got to speak no Tamil, read no Tamil, and show off to no one with my limited Tamil skill. That's ok, because I came across a Lebanese restaurant with good hummus and tabbouleh. I sat around and did the common people watching thing that Parisians do. Eventually I made my way a little further and found the bar waiter who suggested Parc Des Buttes Chaumont.
About that time I got a craving for Vietnamese food. I have been without good pho for FAR FAR FAR too long, and went in search of it. In case you're wondering... Yes, I went in search of the Vietnamese Niehgborhood (which is near the Belleville stop on the Paris metro) and found it. However, I was supposed to meet my host at another restaurant in another part of town for "Persian" food. I enjoyed it quite a lot, but I suspect (always a sneaking suspicion) that Lebanese people had something to do with the particular preparation of food. All in all, a most successful day of running around the capital of france.
First Stop: Canal St. Martin.
If you've seen the film Amelie, and remember it... There is a scene in which she in skipping stones on a canal. This scene also offers perhaps some of the BEST filmwork of the early 2000's. It's a really fluid shot that goes from behind her, over her head and in front of her to just above the stone that seems as if it will hit the camera.
THAT:
That is Canal St. Martin. It is really lovely. The only tourists around are on canal cruise boats and so they aren't walking around bothering the normal crowd. Had a "Kebab" from a nearby turkish restaurant and somehow managed to plop my ass down to eat it right next to the canal flanked on all sides by lesbians enjoying the hell out of their sunday afternoons and girlfriends. Saw a guy with a remote control motorboat causing havoc with some of the canal's geese. Great amusement. The "kebab" or what we lebanese know as shawarma was decent. I do have to say, the donner kebabs all over Europe are TOTALLY subpar to those in Lebanon. If Turkey's Kebabs are really done that way, then I should make a habit of inviting people to Lebanon just for eating. Seriously, I know Turkey has a great culinary tradition (or has at least stolen many great culinary traditions from those it has conquered), but their Donner Kebabs as just not that good! Anyway, it was still delicious on a Sunday afternoon in Paris. I was still on the look out for Biere de Garde and when I spotted a group of kids with a bottle I immediately went to them and asked where they got it. They pointed me in some direction and I went.
On the way to the beer store, I got sidetracked again.
Second Stop: Little Jafna (or Little Sri Lanka).
As I mentioned before, I got REALLY excited about visiting a Tamil speaking Sri Lankan neighborhood in Paris. I really like Sri Lankan food, and I can even ask for it in Tamil. This will SURELY get me superb service and instant friends. What I found instead of Sri Lankans were Indians who don't speak Tamil, and an influx of Chinese. There were a few stores that sold Indian clothing, but were closed on Sunday Afternoon. I had no idea that Indians would ever close a shop if they had opportunity to make money. I was totally shocked. So in fact, I got to speak no Tamil, read no Tamil, and show off to no one with my limited Tamil skill. That's ok, because I came across a Lebanese restaurant with good hummus and tabbouleh. I sat around and did the common people watching thing that Parisians do. Eventually I made my way a little further and found the bar waiter who suggested Parc Des Buttes Chaumont.
About that time I got a craving for Vietnamese food. I have been without good pho for FAR FAR FAR too long, and went in search of it. In case you're wondering... Yes, I went in search of the Vietnamese Niehgborhood (which is near the Belleville stop on the Paris metro) and found it. However, I was supposed to meet my host at another restaurant in another part of town for "Persian" food. I enjoyed it quite a lot, but I suspect (always a sneaking suspicion) that Lebanese people had something to do with the particular preparation of food. All in all, a most successful day of running around the capital of france.
The Elusive 961
As per current records, the oldest cultivators of wine in history are those in the Bekaa Valley. By the way, that's in Lebanon. So, yes, I AM saying that Lebanon has a longer wine tradition than any other country. According to modern scholarship this is still true. I'd bet you with the stupid hummus wars in place, Israel will find some reason to say that wine is originally from Israel. Fact of the matter is this: Lebanon makes great wine. Even after war, even with a heavy islamic influence, even with an economy that went to shit, even with (insert other thing here that makes wine production difficult) Lebanon still makes great wine. One more remark on how awesome lebanon is for making this stuff...
One of the best vintages is 1978 Chateau Musar. Fine whatever, it's some year, some winery, somewhere. But 1978 was in the middle of a gruesome civil war. Absolutely horrible war, absolutely fantastic wine!
So, when you go to Lebanon looking for something other than wine or Arak it's a little difficult to find. Strangely finding lebanese brandy is a task. I'd expect that to be a no-brainer, but apparently, they simply like grape juice and anise too much. Oh well... But beer... Good luck buddy. Almaza is the king of Lebanese beer. If you're looking for something else, chances are you'll get Heineken (Almaza'a parent company) or Corona (for what reason I have no idea). But the new kid on the block, 961... Fat Chance. Lebanon's first microbrew.
I found a bottle way up in the mountains. I didn't even have to go to Beirut to find it. Moreoever, I didn't have to search for the brewery that apparently no longer exists. I found a bottle in the mountains. Tired of drinking the bland german and turkish products that actually make it to Lebanon I finally went for the 961. Problem was, I was looking for IPA, and they only had traditional lager. Why the hell is this such a popular style? If traditional lager were a varietal of grape it would be ugni blanc. Who makes WINE out of ugni blanc? Basically no one. Why? Quite simply, it's kinda of bland and boring. It doesn't have much flavor and it basically pissy alcoholic water... making it the wine equivalent of traditional euro-style piss lager which is the model for Budweiser, Miller, and all other evil breweries.
But, I wanted a real beer, and this was my best shot...
So I gave it a go.
Shockingly, it was really tasty! It was the same style, except with a nice hoppy backbone. I guess if I'd come from the states or Canada and tried it, I would have been terribly disappointed in how bland and boring it is, just like everything else. But I was coming from India, where the common "beer" can only be described as having imitation beer flavor. So if you go and read comments about 961traditional lager on ratebeer or beeradvocate you'll probably find more complaints than complements. I can't offer any other comment, but I definitely want to try their other beers. At least they are bold enough to add hops to their eurostyle piss beer.
But, all things considered, if you're going to Lebanon to drink, best bet is wine (or arak).
One of the best vintages is 1978 Chateau Musar. Fine whatever, it's some year, some winery, somewhere. But 1978 was in the middle of a gruesome civil war. Absolutely horrible war, absolutely fantastic wine!
So, when you go to Lebanon looking for something other than wine or Arak it's a little difficult to find. Strangely finding lebanese brandy is a task. I'd expect that to be a no-brainer, but apparently, they simply like grape juice and anise too much. Oh well... But beer... Good luck buddy. Almaza is the king of Lebanese beer. If you're looking for something else, chances are you'll get Heineken (Almaza'a parent company) or Corona (for what reason I have no idea). But the new kid on the block, 961... Fat Chance. Lebanon's first microbrew.
I found a bottle way up in the mountains. I didn't even have to go to Beirut to find it. Moreoever, I didn't have to search for the brewery that apparently no longer exists. I found a bottle in the mountains. Tired of drinking the bland german and turkish products that actually make it to Lebanon I finally went for the 961. Problem was, I was looking for IPA, and they only had traditional lager. Why the hell is this such a popular style? If traditional lager were a varietal of grape it would be ugni blanc. Who makes WINE out of ugni blanc? Basically no one. Why? Quite simply, it's kinda of bland and boring. It doesn't have much flavor and it basically pissy alcoholic water... making it the wine equivalent of traditional euro-style piss lager which is the model for Budweiser, Miller, and all other evil breweries.
But, I wanted a real beer, and this was my best shot...
So I gave it a go.
Shockingly, it was really tasty! It was the same style, except with a nice hoppy backbone. I guess if I'd come from the states or Canada and tried it, I would have been terribly disappointed in how bland and boring it is, just like everything else. But I was coming from India, where the common "beer" can only be described as having imitation beer flavor. So if you go and read comments about 961traditional lager on ratebeer or beeradvocate you'll probably find more complaints than complements. I can't offer any other comment, but I definitely want to try their other beers. At least they are bold enough to add hops to their eurostyle piss beer.
But, all things considered, if you're going to Lebanon to drink, best bet is wine (or arak).
Kollam Beach
Between the boredom of the out-of-town part of Kollam where we were and the need for some activity in the day (which is the same feeling really) we had decided to go into nearby Kollam Beach. A whole 12 km bus journey. Which means it only occupied an hour of our time (each way). We'd heard the waters were rough and the tides had serious undertows and therefore people didn't usually go in the water. I suspect there are other reasons that people don't go into the water. Part of it has to do with the fact that Indians generally use waters for BATHING, not swimming. Even in Pondicherry I saw people in the water essentially for bathing purposes. No one would be crazy enough to SWIM in the water. So it was with Kollam Beach.
What should be an otherwise beautiful tourist spot is basically an Indian hideout completely littered with garbage. Literally littered with litter. Disgusting!
After sitting on the beach for a while and watching a couple of kids get about 3 feet deep into the water with all their clothes the wind started up. Part of Kollam's tide comes from the fact that the beach itself is steep. The water doesn't gently come to shore, but rather hits a shore with a serious incline. The wind therefore picks up sand in a funny way and threw it against us in a stinging manner. Ugh. Well, we kept sitting after that first blast of sand (what was considered a cool breeze is as my friend says "a searing wind") we watched these kids playing in the shallow water. Then we watched them throwing litter and more shit right into the water.
That did it. I went down and started grabbing shit out of the water and collecting it. I walked all the way to the sidewalk to grab a huge trash can and carry it about 50 m in toward the water. I demanded that people throw away their garbage. F*cking trash. I hate India! Why do you just litter everything? Destroying your beautiful beaches... Bastards!
Anyway, I actually managed to get about 4 people to pick up a piece of garbage close by and toss it into the bin. I figured if every person took away one more piece of trash than they left, the beach would be clean in about a week. This belief is actually two combined statements.
1) There is a lot of trash
2) There are so many more indians visiting that beach.
Anyway, a little sun, a little sand, picking up a little trash, attempting to go to bar. Oh wait, they have a full menu, but aren't carrying ANY of the drinks on it. What is this place. Ugh. Ok, back to the bus to our hotel with a bar carrying no drinks and walking toward the closest restaurant a mile away and listening to the loud "devotions" playing 20 hours a day right into our room. Gotta Love India.
What should be an otherwise beautiful tourist spot is basically an Indian hideout completely littered with garbage. Literally littered with litter. Disgusting!
After sitting on the beach for a while and watching a couple of kids get about 3 feet deep into the water with all their clothes the wind started up. Part of Kollam's tide comes from the fact that the beach itself is steep. The water doesn't gently come to shore, but rather hits a shore with a serious incline. The wind therefore picks up sand in a funny way and threw it against us in a stinging manner. Ugh. Well, we kept sitting after that first blast of sand (what was considered a cool breeze is as my friend says "a searing wind") we watched these kids playing in the shallow water. Then we watched them throwing litter and more shit right into the water.
That did it. I went down and started grabbing shit out of the water and collecting it. I walked all the way to the sidewalk to grab a huge trash can and carry it about 50 m in toward the water. I demanded that people throw away their garbage. F*cking trash. I hate India! Why do you just litter everything? Destroying your beautiful beaches... Bastards!
Anyway, I actually managed to get about 4 people to pick up a piece of garbage close by and toss it into the bin. I figured if every person took away one more piece of trash than they left, the beach would be clean in about a week. This belief is actually two combined statements.
1) There is a lot of trash
2) There are so many more indians visiting that beach.
Anyway, a little sun, a little sand, picking up a little trash, attempting to go to bar. Oh wait, they have a full menu, but aren't carrying ANY of the drinks on it. What is this place. Ugh. Ok, back to the bus to our hotel with a bar carrying no drinks and walking toward the closest restaurant a mile away and listening to the loud "devotions" playing 20 hours a day right into our room. Gotta Love India.
Parc des Buttes Chaumont
I bet I spelled the park name terribly wrong. My apologies to all my parisian readers (if there are any, and probably there are not).
I spent a Sunday afternoon in Paris touring around some less well known neighborhoods and found an alley with a few pubs, cafes, and restaurants, near a section I believed to be called "Little Jafna" in Paris. I had been on a mission to find this sri lankan neighborhood because according to some sources it's a Tamil speaking neighborhood or Paris. I figured between my broken french, tamil, and my well versed english I'd have no problem getting across the point I needed.
Well, I got sidetracked. I sat down for a beer (shock) and the bar waiter sat down and started chatting. I freaking LOVE paris. He sat down with a map and told me where basically everything was that he finds cool in paris. Amongst the highest recommendations was the parc des buttes chaumont. So on Monday I set out to find it. Armed only with a map with a few circles on it and limited french I figured it would happen. Luckily, Paris is geographically VERY small. The suburbs stretch out forever, but Paris itself... not so big.
In order to get to the park you have to walk up a rather large hill. I didn't know Paris had such a hill, but it does. You'll pass by the canal where Amelie skipped stones, and past a small chinese and vietnamese nieghborhood into a residential area where all the beautiful american stereotypes placed on paris are true. The only difference is that Paris is still more awesome than the sterotypes portray it to be.
Quick disclaimer: These are my opinions about Paris, but I think they are widely held opinions.
I step into a little wine shop right next to the local butcher. Why the hell not, I'm in France right? What's this? Really good wine for how much? TWO EUROS? THREE EUROS? A bottle of Cote Du Rhone 2004 for SEVEN EUROS!? OH MY GOD, I am SO MOVING HERE! So I splurged about bought two bottles of wine to take back to my host. I spent a whopping 7.35 euros (~$11) on two nice (not amazing, but very nice) bottles of wine. Walked along toward the park. Aha! There's a sign pointing me exactly where I want to go. MMM sushi. Don't stop now, go to the park. Oh, another liquor store, but with microbrewed french beer... Well, there goes more of my money. It was worth it, I found some exceptional beers of which I'd never heard and paid another 3 euros for a couple of bottles. Not a big spending day in fact.
Finally I make it to the park. It is absolutely gorgeous. Despite the fact that it was far too cold to really enjoy it, I sat up at the top of the first hill and watched people for a while. I got to play with a small dog running around chasing birds while his owner was studying something. There was a group of kids picnicking at the top of the same hill, so I busted out one of my beers. Not only, no complaints, but I found signs that say, don't litter, and they have pics of wine bottles on them. Drinking in the park, how novel! So I enjoy two of the finest french beers of my life and watch people for quite some time. A group of "alternative life style" women doing some very old school calisthenics, a group of teens playing guitar and singing crappy songs. I'm transported directly back to my youth for a moment. Then on the recommendation of the same waiter from sunday as before, I set off looking for a restaurant called Rosa Bonheur. It turns out, that restaurant is IN the park. The park is quite a bit larger than I'd expected. It contains miles of running tracks and several restaurants (including a mexican restaurant which I did not visit). I finally found Rosa Bonheur, but it was closed for renovation. Oh well.
Hey what's that? It's some look out or something... Nice!
Checking it out... Good place to sit, excellent view of paris, get to see the sunset from here... Sitting down right about now.
Eventually it occurred to me that the park closes AT sunset and I had quite a way to go down to get out. In order to avoid being
a) Trapped in the park all night
b) arrested
I decided it was best to leave BEFORE the park closed. Good call by the way.
But I did find something that to which I will immediately return upon arrival in Paris the next trip. There WILL be a next trip.
I spent a Sunday afternoon in Paris touring around some less well known neighborhoods and found an alley with a few pubs, cafes, and restaurants, near a section I believed to be called "Little Jafna" in Paris. I had been on a mission to find this sri lankan neighborhood because according to some sources it's a Tamil speaking neighborhood or Paris. I figured between my broken french, tamil, and my well versed english I'd have no problem getting across the point I needed.
Well, I got sidetracked. I sat down for a beer (shock) and the bar waiter sat down and started chatting. I freaking LOVE paris. He sat down with a map and told me where basically everything was that he finds cool in paris. Amongst the highest recommendations was the parc des buttes chaumont. So on Monday I set out to find it. Armed only with a map with a few circles on it and limited french I figured it would happen. Luckily, Paris is geographically VERY small. The suburbs stretch out forever, but Paris itself... not so big.
In order to get to the park you have to walk up a rather large hill. I didn't know Paris had such a hill, but it does. You'll pass by the canal where Amelie skipped stones, and past a small chinese and vietnamese nieghborhood into a residential area where all the beautiful american stereotypes placed on paris are true. The only difference is that Paris is still more awesome than the sterotypes portray it to be.
Quick disclaimer: These are my opinions about Paris, but I think they are widely held opinions.
I step into a little wine shop right next to the local butcher. Why the hell not, I'm in France right? What's this? Really good wine for how much? TWO EUROS? THREE EUROS? A bottle of Cote Du Rhone 2004 for SEVEN EUROS!? OH MY GOD, I am SO MOVING HERE! So I splurged about bought two bottles of wine to take back to my host. I spent a whopping 7.35 euros (~$11) on two nice (not amazing, but very nice) bottles of wine. Walked along toward the park. Aha! There's a sign pointing me exactly where I want to go. MMM sushi. Don't stop now, go to the park. Oh, another liquor store, but with microbrewed french beer... Well, there goes more of my money. It was worth it, I found some exceptional beers of which I'd never heard and paid another 3 euros for a couple of bottles. Not a big spending day in fact.
Finally I make it to the park. It is absolutely gorgeous. Despite the fact that it was far too cold to really enjoy it, I sat up at the top of the first hill and watched people for a while. I got to play with a small dog running around chasing birds while his owner was studying something. There was a group of kids picnicking at the top of the same hill, so I busted out one of my beers. Not only, no complaints, but I found signs that say, don't litter, and they have pics of wine bottles on them. Drinking in the park, how novel! So I enjoy two of the finest french beers of my life and watch people for quite some time. A group of "alternative life style" women doing some very old school calisthenics, a group of teens playing guitar and singing crappy songs. I'm transported directly back to my youth for a moment. Then on the recommendation of the same waiter from sunday as before, I set off looking for a restaurant called Rosa Bonheur. It turns out, that restaurant is IN the park. The park is quite a bit larger than I'd expected. It contains miles of running tracks and several restaurants (including a mexican restaurant which I did not visit). I finally found Rosa Bonheur, but it was closed for renovation. Oh well.
Hey what's that? It's some look out or something... Nice!
Checking it out... Good place to sit, excellent view of paris, get to see the sunset from here... Sitting down right about now.
Eventually it occurred to me that the park closes AT sunset and I had quite a way to go down to get out. In order to avoid being
a) Trapped in the park all night
b) arrested
I decided it was best to leave BEFORE the park closed. Good call by the way.
But I did find something that to which I will immediately return upon arrival in Paris the next trip. There WILL be a next trip.
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