22 Dec 2017

Un weekend à Paris II

Welcome back to Paris! Part 1 here.

I’ve seen it before, but that doesn’t take away from the excitement of coming round the buildings and seeing the Eiffel Tower properly against that crisp blue autumn sky. I’m always struck by the grandness of the Eiffel Tower; and the way it manages to be beautiful and ugly at the same time. It’s such an unusual structure.

We took photos, had a mosey through the Champ de Mars, around the tower (thanks to security, you can no longer wander under it which made me sad), stopped off to buy mulled wine from a cart, crossed the river and took more photos up on the viewing platform in the Trocadero gardens.

By then, we were very much in the walking, talking and seeing mood so we continued on to the Arc de Triomphe, arriving just as the sun started to set and bathe everything in a warm glow. It was very cold but everything was too pretty and festive to get on the metro so we continued walking all the way down Champs-Élysées and into Jardin des Tuileries as the sun set.

Because I’d seen it recommended on approx. 269475 blogs, I’d heavily emphasised that we should go to Angelina’s for one of their famous hot chocolates. There was a very long queue when we got there (always a sign of a good place but equally very annoying because I’m a very inpatient queuer) but the hot chocolate gods were looking down on us because they had a take away cart – with a much smaller queue! We each got a takeaway cup full of steaming hot chocolate and went and plonked our bums on a bench in the gardens.

THAT HOT CHOCOLATE. HAVE MERCY.

I was a bit worried I would find it too rich and only manage a mouthful before feeling sick but it was unbelievably dreamy and I could have had another cup in a heartbeat. I may be prone to exaggeration but I am being perfectly honest when I say it was the best hot chocolate I have ever had.

We’d been outside for a long time by this point but we decided to squeeze in a night time trip to Notre Dame before dinner, and this turned out to be truly stunning. I’d never seen Notre Dame lit up at night before and it was quite the spectacle. We accidentally arrived at the same time as evening mass and I was blown away by the acoustics inside the cathedral; the music gave me chills and created a state of reflection.

Mostly a reflection on how I much I wanted to sing GOD HELP THE OUTCAST in an Esmerelda outfit.

(If you don’t get this reference, you did all your Disney-film-watching wrong as a child).

Religious/Disney-inspired reflection over, we briefly rested our cold-battered selves back at Rosie’s. We could have probably gone to bed there and then but oh boy, there was raclette to be eaten.

If you haven’t already clocked; we are girls who love our cheese. I’d go as far as to say it’s a key factor in why our friendships have lasted so long. So, yes, we spent most of dinner discussing cheese, eating cheese, watching the cheese…

We smothered chunks of bread in the cheese fondue and scraped freshly-melted cheese over salami and new potatoes, and it was flippin’ wonderful.

(We also had a chocolate fondue afterwards and all came home nursing hefty food babies.)

Somewhat reluctantly, we awoke deliberately early the next morning for another attempt at getting into the catacombs. We arrived an hour before they opened and huddled in the cold with coffee and pastries (might have had flan for breakfast; absolutely no regrets). It worked: we were one of the first in the queue and made it in no problem. Take note kids.

The catacombs are a fascinating rabbit warren of morbid history; it’s easy to see why people find them so enthralling and are willing to queue for hours to see the underground tunnels delicately built out of the dead. I would implore you to go visit should you take a trip to Paris.

Our final sight to see was the Sacre Coeur. A snowy white building framed against a blue sky – anyone else think of Gringotts?! My main reason for wanting to go to Sacre Coeur was because I’d read about the glorious view to be seen if you’re willing to climb the 200 and something steps up to the dome. Which Rosie and I were.

Once again, I found myself nearly bringing on an asthma attack by climbing the spiral staircase of an old building. All in the name of a good view. Never underestimate how much I love a view from a tall building on a hill. Who even needs to breathe anyway?

The view was spectacular so total worth the faff. We could see right across Paris in all directions and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was beautiful.

We had a lazy lunch which included wine, chips, cheese and Nutella crepes before going macaron shopping (pretty much a requirement in Paris right?) and collecting our bags.

And with that we were scooting back to London on the Eurostar, feeling rather full and sleepy.

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22 Dec 2017

Un weekend à Paris II

20 Dec 2017

Un weekend à Paris I

A couple of weekends back, my friend Ele and I took a mosy up to St Pancras station. I had that slightly gleeful feeling you get when you’re on your usual route to work but know you’re not actually going to work.

Naturally my first port of call when the train got in was M&S to buy an extra-large tub of hummus.

Gotta get your priorities in order ya know?

We stocked up on snacks and met Becca outside the Eurostar entrance.

We were off to Paris and travelling with Ele, who had never been on the Eurostar before, was a bit like travelling with an excitable child (for anyone in a similar position; yes, you can take liquids aboard and no, the train doesn’t plunge straight into the Thames…).

It was grand, minus the woman asking us to whisper because she was trying to sleep… on a 1pm train.

It was my fourth visit to Paris; this trip had come about because our gal Rosie was working there for a couple of months so naturally the girls, myself included, had insisted on visiting within about five seconds of her getting the job.

After eating a lot of hummus, failing to whisper for sleeping woman and navigating the metro without disaster, we met Rosie and headed to her little studio flat to drop off our bags.

We didn’t linger too long because we were in Paris and there was wine to be drunk.

I felt all warm and happy as we sat amongst the drinkers and smokers along the pavement outside a bar – yes, in November; all praise the excellent outside heating provided in most Parisian bars. We shared wine over a little table, sat under the red glow of the heater, and I could just sense that the weekend was going to be a good’un.

After savouring our wine, we headed to L’Ange 20 for dinner. It was delightfully cosy and oh-so-Parisian, and I loved it instantly. We were seated in the window table, on the edge of the bar and yet tucked away from the rest of the restaurant; our own private corner. We ordered prosecco and wine and got busy browsing the menu. At some point in all of this, Lizzie popped up at the window; her Eurostar having finally arrived.

After much deliberation, we settled on our choices. Naturally, I had to start with the crispy camembert, served deliciously hot and melting on a bed of greens. I thought it was marvellous but I was never not going to enjoy a big plate of melting cheese. I followed this with the lamb, roasted in a herb crust and served with carrots and sautéed potatoes.

The evening was spent filled with laughter and chats, and included an explain-your-job-in-one-sentence game. We were too full for pudding (something that very rarely happens to me tbh) but we did stop at another bar on our way home. It was midnight but we were able to settle down for more wine, again; outside seats, although I was firmly tipsy by this point and thought it best to not finish my share of the carafe of wine.

Despite this, there were still hangovers when we woke the next morning and we spectacularly failed in our attempt to be up early to get to the catacombs. We gave it go anyway, after stopping at a lovely little patisserie for pastries. My chocolate and pistachio pastry was the stuff of dreams, I assure you. As predicted, the catacomb queue was a good four hours long so we immediately sacked it off and headed towards Les Invalides. The weather took a very wet turn as we walked and we were running for shelter by the time we got close by. We spent an hour or two sheltering from the rain as we explored the army museum and the main courtyard of the site. The true spectacle though is easily dome des invalids and the tomb of Napoleon I. The architecture is grand and intricate, and its vastness easily takes your breath away.

When we braved going back outside, we were shocked to find clear blue skies; as though the heavy clouds and rain had never happened. We could see the Eiffel tower peering above the buildings some distance away, so we wandered vaguely towards it, ambling down the little side streets. We stopped at a cafe on the way to indulge on croque monsieur and onion soup; a perfect set-up for an afternoon spent out in the cold, seeing the sights.

Second instalment of the trip up here v soon.