Paris

At the end of January, I once again left Béziers and Languedoc-Roussillon for the joys of the capital. Having only been to Paris in high season with the hoard of other tourists, I was happy to be visiting in winter when the cold usually wards off the most annoying tourists. Summer really brings out the idiots – usually sunburned and English-speaking idiots. In Paris I found these were not your typical idiots; more your pretentious bullshitters. Now I think everyone likes to give out a bit of pretentious bullshit from time to time but the ones I encountered were on another level. Sometimes I thought their bullshit was so ridiculous that it had to be performance art like the time Joaquin Phoenix decided he wanted to be a rapper on Letterman (the reality being it was preparation for a film).  So this time my aim was to be the biggest pretentious bullshitter by avoiding the rest.

Although I went to the Musée d’Orsay (best museum in Paris: fact), I didn’t go to the other art galleries and in fact spent the majority of my time there eating or drinking before eating more and drinking more. A new find was the Marché aux Enfants Rouges thanks to my excellent guide (a university friend on her year abroad in Paris) who I stayed with for my four day visit. This covered market has an eclectic mix of foods including French, Creole, Japanese and Moroccan cuisine. A particular favourite was the sandwich/wrap/crêpe stall Chez Alain Miam Miam run by the eponymous Alain. He made the best sandwich I have ever had. Now I’m not one to get overly excited about a sandwich but this one was unbelievably delicious. True love found in sandwich form. I now know how the oh my dayum guy feels when he eats:

Anyway, I’ll move on from sandwich love. The most entertaining thing about ‘Chez Alain Miam Miam’ is in fact Alain’s service. I’m not sure whether service is the right word however. It mainly consists of him subtly flirting, forgetting what you’ve ordered and only accepting payment after about 5 more minutes of talking and nearly burning a few crêpes. It is worth going just to meet this eccentric and incredibly charming oldie. Here is his Facebook page which he will demand you ‘liker’ (yes this verb exists in French – liker – and yes, I hate it) if you have the opportunity to visit: https://www.facebook.com/ChezAlainMiamMiam

Apart from eating, we all went to the comédie française and their main incredible theatre (the Salle Richelieu) to see their adaptation of ‘Antigone’. This would have been brilliant if not for two detracting factors. Firstly, we were sleep deprived and hung-over from a reggae-filled night at the nightclub Cabaret Sauvage. Secondly we had not pre-booked seats and instead got last minute tickets for a very reasonable 5 euros. Of course there was a reason for the incredible price. Now I’ve been ‘up in the heavens’ before when I’ve had cheap last-minute tickets at the RSC, the seats at the comédie française were not even in this universe. They were so high up and far back that you couldn’t even see the stage if you were sat down. That was definitely enough to put us out of the mood to watch the action and by act two, I wasn’t even watching and chose instead to discreetly eat macarons. Certainly not the height of cultured art student, just a tired slob. But lesson learnt: pre-book good seats and don’t go in an alcohol-induced drowsiness.

But despite the slightly grey January weather, the continuous smell of piss on the metro and excessive alcohol consumption, it was a wonderful trip necessary to break up the monotony of winter. Away from the summer mass of tourists, I was finally able to fully enjoy the beauty and energy of the capital city.

For this month at least, Paris je t’aime