Paris Part 3: What we saw in between meals

We spent our first morning wandering around Saint-Germain looking for a spot to have breakfast.

This place had a glassed-in outside porch (I am a delicate flower and needed shelter from the elements) that provided optimal people watching to croissant eating ratios.

And appropriate amounts of legal stimulants.

And butter.

After breakfast we wandered through the little streets, gazing into little shop windows and speculating on the average rent in this fancy area

(is the desire to know average rent for a particular area more a product of adulthood or urban living? I never used to care, but now it's like I have real-estate-specific verbal tic.)

Heaven.

We strolled over to Notre Dame and in the main plaza in front of the cathedral was a giant tent with a sign celebrating BREAD. Say no more we had to check it out.

This was right before lunch. By the way.

So we took full advantage of the plentiful samples.

Sidenote: Have you ever seen Kings of Pastry? It is the most incredible documentary about four French pastry chefs participating in the MOF pastry competition. It's streaming on Netflix and if you haven't seen it, you should do so immediately. You will laugh, cry, gasp in suspense - it's just a wonderful way to spend a couple hours of your life. While I often prefer a much humbler dessert than sugar sculptures and cream puffs, I was still in awe of the craftsmanship and pride in perfection that these chefs strive for.

After expanding our appreciation of the bread world, we set off to quell the hunger not quite satisfied by our numerous bread samples.

We wandered around for about an hour looking for a place to eat. The goal was to find something tucked away with a menu not in English. At last we stumbled upon Quai-Quai, a tiny wonderful restaurant with fantastic food and a great atmosphere.

And walls made out of old doors. And cool vintage lamps and chairs decorating the interior. 

We didn't get dessert there but after a few more hours of walking, I started glazing over every time we passed a fruit stand.

Or candy stores. We tried some of the macaroons above and they did not disappoint.

Wanderings.

After spending the day exploring everywhere from the Louvre to the Marais, we had a late dinner at La Fontaine De Mars which is near the Eiffel Tower. Anthony found this restaurant on a shoot a few years ago and was excited to go back.

The night was chilly so we opted to wait for a table indoors (see Delicate Flower reference above). We hung out by the register, our bodies literally pressed into the bar to allow the staff to maintain their hurried pace.

They gave us a plate of meat to snack on though, which totally appeased my rumbling stomach. The food was absolutely incredible. So incredible we went back again two days later. So incredible that even now, weeks later I am thinking about the roast chicken I had and wishing I was eating it right now  for breakfast.

Paris Part 2: Museum Bling

This post is pretty exclusively filled with things I found cool or would liked to have stolen from, the Louvre. 

Bird w/ personal bodyguard.

Judging you.

Tiny nudists.

Neck buttons lend an air of formality to even the dreariest of Tuesdays.

I'd be sad if I had to wear that hat too.

That lip color is really in right now.

Let's be honest, allegories and metaphors and religious meanings aside, I pretty much gravitate to the weird stuff in museums. Like the skull and other odd bits hanging off the belt of the girl in the middle.

This is just funny. I don't know why, but it gave me the museum giggles.

I get a similar look on my face when I realize at 7:01 PM that I have no dessert in the house and the grocery stores are all closed.

Door bling. Napoleon had such humble taste.

Breakfast Nook.

If pressed, I'd accept this as a gift.

Or this.

This I would outright steal.

Along with these.

Beauty.

We're going to close this post with the single best item in the whole museum. Amongst all the hundreds of thousands of exquisitely crafted works of art spanning thousands of years of human history, this little creature is sitting in a glass case blowing a raspberry at me because I am taking it all waaay too seriously. Just a good thing to know. For perspective.

Paris Part 1: More Marble Bodies than a Twilight Novel

I am prefacing this post by saying that these Paris posts are not in chronological order...I edited all the museum photos first, so I decided to post them first. 

Wanting to be cultured folk, we decided to spend a day at the Louvre, completely forgetting that sheer act of trying to view the art is a battle that takes, perseverance, skill and the patience of...well, much more patient people than we happen to be. The whole establishment is so beautiful though, that even after seeing the monstrous line we chose to press on. 

I really wanted to see the sculpture gallery. And not just because that wing is usually much quieter with tour groups buzzing through only occasionally in a very quiet and efficient manner.

The summer after I graduated high school, I saved up my money for a study abroad trip to Paris with a local community college. Since I was not about to use precious summer hours to do anything remotely resembling work, I signed up for poetry and watercolor classes. During that summer I cranked out some of the worst poetry ever written in the English language including but not limited to a poem told from the perspective of the stones of Notre Dame. Yes, that was just as awful as you might imagine.

While my skills at watercolor probably rivaled my (lack of) skills in poetry writing,  I did enjoy it and would escape the loud, drunk college student hostel we were staying in by coming to the Louvre and splitting my time between the Dutch masters and the sculpture wing. There are plenty of little nooks there to curl up in and think and try again and again to figure out how to draw hands correctly. 

I still can't get them right.

Okay, enough reminiscing. The sculptures were still as lovely and serene as ever. This statue of Artemis is one of my favorites.

One of the many things I love about the Louvre is that the palace is just as astounding as the art contained within. Every ceiling, door, stairwell and window frame is a testament to the thousands of craftsmen that helped build it.

Excellence in marble ruffs.

My dad is pretty hard to please in the art department, but he LOVES the Winged Victory. So I tried to do it justice in photos. This is one of several that I am really happy with. In the next post I will share more of the things that caught my eye during our time here.

It's. Almost. Friday. Huzzah.

Creepy Baby Hands

Work, life and oddly spaced holidays have kept me away from this blog for the past week or so. To make up for it, I present you with the following: one magnificent facepalm and three photos in which people are being touched by creepy baby hands. View, enjoy, ponder the unimaginable hours of human labor that went into sculpting these creepy babies and then tomorrow we will begin again with this photo posting business.

And it shall be called: I Thought I Told You I Like My Sweaters Air Dried. Also Where Are the Organic Strawberries I asked For?

And it shall be called: Nah Steve, I Got This Round. Nancy Will Text You...I Hope...Because You're Kind Of A Downer When Women Don't Call You Back.

And it shall be called: Nothing...I just have...nothing. But I had to post it just so others could bear witness to the fact that this is a disembodied baby hand on a naked woman's back. Are we all in agreement that that is what we are looking at right now? Yes? Good.

Happy Tuesday!

On the road to Interlaken

One of the nicest things about having a car here is that we can just hop in at our leisure and explore the countryside. A few weekends ago we decided to drive out to Interlaken and see what there was to see. 

Interlaken is...odd. There are really charming bits of it and then bits that look like they were really popular in the 1960's and have remained that way ever since. There was some great wall texture though and the sign above which delighted my designer's soul to no end.

Also lots of these floaty gentlemen about...not sure what the proper term for this past time is: paragliding? Hang gliding? Slow parachuting? Testing fate? Hanging from an umbrella in a jumpsuit? 

This is located in one of the many little towns we drove through on our way to Interlaken (I just like typing Interlaken, so I am going to use the word frequently throughout this post. Interlaken.) This gem looks out over a gas station where we bought some bread. It also marks the spot where I attempted to use my rudimentary German skills and learned that Swiss German (Schweizerdeutsch) is nothing like the German I learned high school. They say 'merci' for starters. Are you serious right now Switzerland? Thanks for leaving me stammering like an idiot at the cash register trying to choke out the one German word I know with any certainty and then throw another language at me. Color me confused. Although stammering like an idiot has pretty much become a way of life for me here. Along with looking forlorn and hoping people will read my mind without me having to utter one more bastardized syllable of French. Buuuut we can expand on the trials of French in a later post. One that is filled with complaining. For now, back to pastoral loveliness.

En route, we stopped occasionally to have "no, but do you SEE how amazing this view is?!" moments.

Guard of Interlaken.

The two Lakens of Interlaken.

Maidens of Interlaken.

Shingles of Interlaken.

Fancy Domiciles of Interlaken.

Future Nightmares of Interlaken.

Dueling Crests of Interlaken.

Signs that say 'Interlaken' of Interlaken.

So, there you have it. Interlaken in a nutshell. A cute sleepy little town that has much water flowing through it. I did a little reading about it after visiting and it seems like it is mainly a good place to go due to its close proximity to other places. Food for thought.