Gastro-touriste.

I apologize for not updating the past few days, but wifi here is very persnickety so I've had to wait for the right moment to blog. Today is our last day here in the Loire: tomorrow my parents will head to Paris, spend one day there and then fly home. I will be taking a train in the opposite direction, south to Cahors where I will stay for one night before being picked up by our family friends, William and Rosalie, who I will work for at their bed and breakfast for the month of June. Hard to believe it's practically June already!

Multi-purpose, too.

Sunday morning began with Mass at the parish church of St. Denis, where I spent the majority of the time watching the adorable pudgy-faced toddlers in the row in front of us. After Mass, we went to the Sunday market along the river where I bought some navy blue espadrilles, a type of shoe that originated in Basque country but now can be found all over France and Spain. They're very comfy, similar in style to Tom's but a lot cheaper. Mom found herself some lavender spun honey, and Dad chomped away on some emmental cheese--needless to say, he has not been maintaining his vegan diet over here. Mom and I also bought some beautiful baskets. After our shopping, we made our way back into town to lunch on some pizza: mine had chevre, bacon and honey, a combination I'm sure I'll never find in the States. Half the fun of being in a foreign country is sampling the different dishes; it's this sort of "gastro-tourism" that is the most exciting part for me.

All of these are vegetables.

After such a low-key Sunday, we launched into a full day of touring on Monday. We were not alone, as many French were out and about enjoying their Monday off (a national holiday for Pentecost). We first stopped at Villandry, known for its beautiful classic gardens. There was a water garden, a flower garden, a vegetable garden, a maze...each one more intricate than the next. Indeed, how bold I was to walk among my pollinated enemies. Sneezing and blowing my nose constantly, I must say I still enjoyed seeing such a thorough reconstruction of how the gardens would have looked during Renaissance times.

Can you imagine living here?

Next, we went to Azay-le-Rideau, a chateau built on an island in the Indre river with its foundations right in the water. This makes for some striking pictures with its reflection in the river. Though the interiors were decorated much the same as others we'd seen, we did get the unique experience of walking in the attic and seeing how the crossbeams and such were laid out. It's amazing to think how these structures have stood the test of time.

We had lunch in the nearby village, where I enjoyed a very strange but delicious salad: lettuce, tomatoes, dressing and chevre on toasts like usual, but with the addition of rillons, or large pieces of bacon, and seasoned home fries. Really tasty, but sort of odd for a salad. I'll have to keep these unusual combinations in mind as I try new things in the kitchen.

Then we were back in the car for another jerky ride around the countryside, stopping at the royal abbey at Fontevraud. Since my dad has been reading a book about Eleanor of Aquitaine, he has been seized by a desire to see every place associated with her. Inside the abbey we found her effigy, along with those of Richard the Lionhearted and John Lackland. They were buried there at one time, but their bodies have since been moved. The abbey itself dates from the 12th century, and Eleanor spent the last few years of her long life as a nun there--she lived to be about 80, which was incredibly rare during that time.

Eleanor and Richard's effigies

After Fontevraud, we drove through some beautiful villages nearby. We stopped at Candes St. Martin, where St. Martin of Tours was buried in 397. The people of Tours stole his body back at some point, but there is still a church there with his tomb. We paid our respects, and just as we ought to have been hitting the road to make our dinner reservation, Dad decided to drag us straight up the hill for a couple of miles on some very uneven cobblestones to a rather underwhelming panorama of the nearby rivers. Classic John Adler.


Finally we were on the road again, this time taking the autoroute, or highway. Getting off the highway after a couple of hours, Dad pulled over to consult the map for our next move. What ensued was a hilarious episode of folding and unfolding the massive map in various directions, both parents squabbling away. Priceless.

"Why can't I find anything in this Godforsaken country?" "Pretty sure the  map's upside down."

But we eventually found our way through the back country roads to Les Closeaux, a very out-of-the-way restaurant with incredible food at a serious bargain: four courses for 20 euros. The meal began with an amuse-bouche (literally, "to amuse the mouth"), which is like a complementary mini-appetizer. It consisted of a cucumber whipped cream and a yummy but unidentifiable spread on a cracker. Being that the appetizer I wanted, a beet salad with chevre, had already run out, I ordered salmon mousse on a bed of chopped avocado with a small salad on top. My parents ordered the same. Everyone loved it, even me who normally avoids seafood. My entree was pork with citrus cous cous--the meat was as tender as I've ever had and I am dying to know what they did to it to make it so good! Our third course was a small salad and cheese plate, and I finished the meal with profiteroles, a classic French dessert of ice cream in a puff pastry. It was hands-down one of the best meals I've ever had. Ever.

Pretty desolate. 

Tuesday saw another long day of touring, with just as much driving, jerking around the numerous roundabouts, getting whiplash every time Dad changed gears, etc. Our first stop was the battlefield of the Battle of Poitiers of 732, where Charles Martel (the grandfather of Charlemagne) defeated an army of Spanish Muslims. This was a definitive battle in the history of France, and eventually led to the union of the various Gallic tribes under one sovereign. The battlefield monument itself consisted of large placards with descriptions of the various elements. What made it so odd was the fact that 1) it was in the middle of nowhere, 2) cannon-fire would ring out periodically, supposedly to evoke images of the battle (although I'm not entirely convinced they had cannons in the eighth century, though I could be wrong--in any case we thought we were target practice), and 3) when I pressed a button on the placard marked "English," the Carmina Burana began to play loudly, followed by an overly dramatic narration of the story of the battle.

See how the pillars are painted?

By the time we had wrapped up at the battlefield and made the drive into the city of Poitiers, it was 3:30 and all the restaurants had stopped serving lunch. Besides Dad's attempts to starve us, Mom and I managed to find some sandwiches just off the main square. Then it was time to explore the city. Poitiers, historically a university town, also contains lots of history attached to--you guessed it--Eleanor of Aquitaine. We saw the church of Notre Dame, a Romanesque church that used to be completely painted inside and out, though only the interior paint has been restored today. We visited the ancient Palais de Justice, called the Montbergeon Tower, where Eleanor would hold court. Dad was vexed by the fact that you cannot go inside the building itself, as it serves as the courthouse of Poitiers even to this day, with the old tower now full of legal offices.

Sure doesn't look like the churches we're used to.

The next landmark on the list was the Baptestere St. Jean, the oldest church in France, built in 360 AD. This was closed also, because it was Tuesday. However, we did get to go inside the nearby Cathedral of Poitiers, whose stained glass depicting the executions of Sts. Peter and Paul also includes--who else--Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henri II and their children. Not really in the correct protocol, but money talks even with the Church.

After spending roughly two hours in Poitiers, we piled back into the car to head back to Amboise. We had dinner at a restaurant called l'Amboiserie, which has a rooftop terrace right next to the castle. I thoroughly enjoyed my peach kir and salad with pears, walnuts and fourme d'ambert, a mild bleu cheese that is tricky to find at home. Mom and I also got crepes, hers with apples and caramel and mine with bananas and chocolate. I have never been known to turn down a crepe.

Today, Dad took off for some hiking on his own while Mom and I did some shopping. We found souvenirs for family but also some fantastic cooking gadgets at a kitchen store: I purchased these sweet herb scissors that have 5 blades for ultimate herb-cutting action, a citrus zester that attaches to your palm and a similar device for peeling fruits and veggies. Having never seen anything similar at home, I seized the opportunity to make my culinary undertakings a little easier. At lunch (at a place called the Lion d'Or, which was also incredible) we told Dad about the wonders we had seen and he demanded to be taken to see all the gadgets with his own eyes. He then proceeded to purchase roughly half the store.

The rest of the day will be given to packing our bags, which might prove a challenge with all our new purchases, and eating our last meal here in Amboise. Tomorrow, a new chapter begins!

Nez miserable

...In honor of my poor miserable nose. My severe seasonal allergies have somewhat hampered the beautiful scenery of the chateaux. But I journey on, armed with mountains of tissues, napkins, TP, whatever I can get my hands on to blow my nose with. No paper product is safe.

Mom and Dad posing outside the chateau

Despite the fog my allergies have put me into (I am in no way "Claritin clear"), I have been enjoying the lovely sights. Yesterday we drove a few miles to Chenonceau, the castle inhabited by Diane de Poitiers for many years, given to her because she was the mistress of King Henri II; after his death, his wife, Catherine de' Medici, forced Diane to move to another castle, Chaumont-sur-Loire. Even after Catherine vacated the premises, the castle remained an important piece of history, with several prominent women living there throughout the years. It served as a hospital in World War I and a Resistance holdout during World War II. The castle interior has been beautifully restored over the last couple of decades, with each room fully decked out in the Renaissance style. 

I wonder what sorts of dishes they made...

One of the coolest parts of the tour for me was the kitchens (not surprising) because they were refurbished so well. The wall plaques indicated what each room was for: a larder for keeping fruits and vegetables cold, a large oven and a smaller bread oven, a butchery room were game could be hung from large hooks, the room where food was actually prepared with a massive wood-fired flattop, and the servants' dining room.

Those are four--count 'em--four guys mowing one patch of lawn.

What were even more impressive were the gardens. The Loire chateaux were known for their extensive grounds and beautifully sculpted formal gardens, with flowers, shrubs and trees all planted in intricate symmetrical patterns. Chenonceau seems to be doing a fair job maintaining them as they would have looked back then, but it certainly takes a lot of upkeep. That's why many of these French gardens, large or small, are no longer decorated with brightly colored flowers as they were in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but filled with low-maintenance shrubs and the like: their maintenance is too expensive. But some Loire valley chateaux gardens are still making the effort and spending the money.

After our tour of the castle and gardens, we set off on what was supposed to be a nature hike through the surrounding forests. We were only a few minutes in before Dad decided to send Mom and I back to the chateau grounds for lunch so he could do the trail by himself. This was in part because my allergies had gotten so bad. It was also getting to be the hottest part of the day, about 90 degrees, and we hadn't eaten, and he did not in fact have any idea where he was going. So Mom and I headed gratefully towards the chateau's self-service restaurant where we were able to pick and choose what we wanted and make a light little lunch. About an hour and half later, we got a call from Dad to meet him at the car. He arrived, sweaty and sunburned, and confirmed my suspicions that none of the trail had been marked and he had been wandering around in full sun in the middle of nowhere. Nonetheless, the countryside was reportedly gorgeous. All the same, I'm glad I got to stay inside and let my nose recover for a while.

As the heat of the day wore on, my thoughts turned back to the lovely little swimming pool at our bed and breakfast. But my hopes were dashed--or at least postponed--when Dad decided we had to see La Pagode, whatever that was. We drove a few miles further to a fairly deserted looking property that had no other tourists around. I was raw-nosed and sniffly, and admittedly not in the best of moods, but I trudged on to see what there was to see. 

It's just so...out there.

What we found was an extremely curious tourist attraction. Once upon a time, there used to be a chateau and massive gardens called Chanteloup, where the owner apparently had an affinity for all things Chinese. He built Chinese gardens and a huge pagoda, a very tall tower from which you can see all the way to the river. The bizarre thing is that the chateau and gardens have been destroyed--all that remains is the pagoda surrounded by a man-made lake. We climbed up into it and learned about the history of this strange place: after the death of its owner, a man named Choiseul who was in exile from Louis XV's court, the castle was badly damaged during the French Revolution, passed from owner to owner and finally dismantled for building materials during the nineteenth century. However, nobody ever destroyed the pagoda. Maybe because it was such an oddity. Nobody really knows why. That's part of what makes it so strange and mysterious.

After our visit to this bizarre monument, we finally headed back to Amboise where we could take a dip. The water was freezing, so I could only jump in for about a second at a time before getting out to sun myself and read my book: "A Distant Mirror" by Barbara Tuchman. It's about the fourteenth century, so a little bit too early in history for all the castles we are visiting, which didn't start to crop up until the sixteenth century. But still a very interesting read.

As we sat out in the yard, we finally had a chance to meet the other couple staying at the bed and breakfast, who are from Tasmania. As such, they talk funny. The proprietors admitted to me that they can hardly understand their English with its odd, vaguely Australian accent. Nevertheless, they are very friendly and open to sharing both their wine and their stories of home. We have taken to referring to them affectionately as “The Tazzies.”

For dinner, we had reservations at L'Epicerie, a restaurant on the main square. At 23 euros apiece, we enjoyed a four-course meal. It was probably the best meal I've had since I've been here. Cream of mushroom soup with a poached egg in it, duck confit with potatoes cooked in bacon (you heard me), a cheese plate and a spiced pear and peanut crumble. I was almost too full to walk home, but it was totally worth it.

View from the inner courtyard.

Today we drove a little further to Chaumont-sur-Loire, the castle where Diane de Poitiers was forced to move. On the way there, we got a little bit lost in the countryside, as is to be expected with the Doc, but we did happen upon a restaurant he had read about called Les Closeaux, where we made reservations for Monday night. Venturing back out into the wilderness, which was indeed very calm and pretty, we managed to find the castle at last. It was gorgeous, and beautifully restored as well. It had been used not only by Diane, but by other noble families up through the nineteenth century, and some of the rooms were restored in that style. 

They've got some work to do in this one.

But there was a wing of the chateau in the process of being restored we were allowed to walk through, and that provided a more interesting picture. Rooms full of old armor, fine china, furniture…all put there for storage. Walls showing several different layers of wallpaper in various stages of removal. Musty, dim hallways giving way to rickety wooden stairs. All of this provided a much different impression of the lives these chateaux have had after their original inhabitants moved on.

The castle gardens were beautiful, but in a very different way than Chenonceau. The gardens at Chaumont have a different theme each year, and artists from all over the world design small garden exhibits according to the theme. Each one was more beautiful and more unique than the last. Some favorites are shown below.

An Alice in Wonderland themed garden with blue butterflies.

A gnome army protecting the grounds?

This one was supposed to be a big plate of green salad.

Aladdin's garden full of genie lamps.

While we all enjoyed seeing each artistic display, the heat was getting to us and the gardens seemed too vast to see in one trip. As much as I loved walking through each little garden, my nose was grateful to be indoors away from pollen when we got back to the B&B. I spent some time out by the pool, had a nap, and before I knew it the time had come for another classically French meal at an out-of-the-way restaurant called La Fourchette (“the fork”). Dad began his meal with foie gras (goose liver pate), and--if you can believe it--Mom and I had frogs’ legs. I had never tried them before, but it was that or the liver, which I cannot abide. They were surprisingly good. Chicken-like in texture, and cooked in garlic and herbs. Very yummy, but I had to try not to think about what I was eating and that they had been hopping only hours before. My mom, a great lover of frogs, felt guilty during the whole first course. For my main course, I was in more familiar territory with pork in a delicious creamy sauce. Dessert was a simple bowl of fruit, which was welcome after such a rich meal. The three of us thanked the chef, who runs the tiny restaurant with her sister, and waddled home.

Tomorrow is Sunday, when we will take a breather from all these castles and wander the local weekend market. Hopefully I can stop sneezing long enough to look around.

Transit nightmares and adventures with the Doc

Early yesterday morning, John and I checked out of the hotel, picked up some pistachio and coffee flavored eclairs for Mom and Dad, and descended into the Metro to take the RER train out to Charles de Gaulle airport, where I would point John in the direction of his flight and meet up with my parents to take a train to the Loire valley. John and I encountered our first transit adventure when my Metro turnstile locked up, despite the fact that I had a valid ticket. I handed John the eclairs, my backpack and my suitcase over the barrier, then ducked under the turnstile and managed to slide through the barrier, just barely. Then we were off to the Chatelet Metro stop, one of the largest in Paris. After navigating our way through with all our luggage, we made it to the RER platform and boarded the incredibly crowded train. And when I say incredibly crowded, I mean really, really crowded. Everyone squished up against one another, piling on more and more people at each stop. At one point some would-be passengers couldn’t even board the train. It was definitely a stressful experience, and gave me the impression of being in the deepest circle of hell.

At long last, we reached the airport. Once there, we found we couldn’t exit the train station because the automatic doors weren’t working, until a maintenance guy came and opened if for us. This is right about when I decided I would fork over the cash for a taxi next time. On the other side of the doors we found my parents, who had landed about an hour before. By divine intervention, the eclairs made it through the journey relatively unscathed. The four of us chatted for a little while, then it was time for my parents and I to hop on our train to St. Pierre des Corps, two hours southwest. John and I said our goodbyes, and he sat down with a book to await his flight.

Off with the Doc, oh so chic.

Once on the train, Mom and Dad promptly fell asleep, something neither of them had had any luck with during the flight over. We arrived in St. Pierre des Corps, where there is a medium-sized train station and not much else, right at noon when all the rental car offices closed for lunch. After I sweet-talked the concierge at a local hotel into letting us store our luggage there, we grabbed a taxi over to nearby Tours to see the famous cathedral, explore the town and (most importantly) eat lunch.

Around 2:30, we headed back to the train station, picked up our luggage and found our rental car. Then the next transit nightmare of the day began: my father behind the wheel of a manual transmission in a foreign country with only a vague idea of where he is going. After getting lost just a little and jostling us around quite a lot, we arrived in Amboise, a small but beautiful town on the Loire river. After some more jostling and getting lost again, we were grateful to get to our bed and breakfast and into the incredibly welcoming presence of Madame Sylvie, our host. She showed us to our rooms, which are large and beautifully decorated, advised us on all the important places to see and even complimented me on my French. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more hospitable person.

Our room at Au Charme Rabelaisien

Which brings me to a point I’ve been intending to make: the stereotype of French people as unfriendly and snooty? Completely false. I have yet to have a single French person be rude to me, even in Paris. Everyone has been helpful and obliging, kind and friendly. Yes, it helps that I speak the language, but I find that some people here are more than willing to practice their English on you.

Anyway, Madame Sylvie left us to “s’installer,” or get settled, after which we ventured out into the town for a glass of wine and some gelato. Amboise is small, but very picturesque. It is home to the first Renaissance-style chateau in the Loire valley. We explored the town for an hour or two before heading to La Cene, said to serve the best pizza in France. And indeed it was very good. Although Mom and Dad nearly fell asleep at the table, the proprietors were extremely gracious and even sent us on our way with pocketfuls of caramel candy, just because I said they were delicious and asked them where they got them.

That was some serious pizza.

 This morning, the parents woke refreshed from their jet lag and Ambien-induced slumber and we enjoyed the breakfast Sylvie laid out for us, a variety of breads, jams, yogurt, fruit and cereal. We also met her husband, a dentist, and their adorable dog, a Jack Russell named Bergamot, who were both very sweet. The whole hospitality experience here thus far has been beyond compare.

View of the chateau from the gardens

Breakfast finished, we began our tour of the city, starting with the chateau itself. When the French invaded Italy at the beginning of the sixteenth century, they found they couldn’t win the war but could borrow some ideas from the Italian Renaissance. Amboise was the first chateau in France that showed these Renaissance influences. We walked all through the castle and gardens, which are much smaller than many of the later castles in the region, but really beautiful. There is also a small chapel where Leonardo da Vinci is buried, as he spent the last three years of his life in Amboise.

Medieval tank, courtesy of Monsieur da Vinci

That historical nugget led us to our next stop: Clos de Luce, da Vinci’s residence during his stay in Amboise. Nowadays you can tour the old manor house and the large gardens, where there are many models and life-size reproductions of da Vinci’s inventions, including a tank! Yes, a tank, and I got in it. And it was awesome. It was a truly neat place to visit, to see all the ingenious things he came up with, but by then the afternoon had gotten really hot and our feet were sore, so we headed back to Madame Sylvie’s for a break.

It wasn’t until 8pm that we set out in search of dinner, which we found at nearby Chez Hippeau. After a long day of touring in the heat, I enjoyed my blackberry kir, omelet with herbs and this apple/onion/zucchini/goat cheese concoction I ordered because it sounded interesting. Dad continued to revel in the joy that is eating meat and dairy after his six weeks of veganism; how can one enjoy France without eating cheese? He also seems pleased with the abundance of cheap wines, and continually demands that I translate things for him. As always, traveling with the Doc is a unique adventure. 

Tomorrow, our first foray into real chateau country here in "the Garden of France."

"Let them eat brioche."

...As Marie Antoinette was fabled to have said during the French Revolution (not "Let them eat cake"). And eating brioche we have been, among other goodies.

All the delicious eats make the weather worth it. Especially yesterday, when it was rainy, cold and windy all day. We learned our lesson from Sunday's rain-filled adventures that it is better to wear sandals and have occasionally freezing toes than to wear tennis shoes and walk around in wet socks all day.

Yesterday we covered a lot of ground in terms of landmarks and museums. We started off the day with a 20-minute rain-soaked walk to Notre Dame. By the time we arrived, we were hungry, wet and a little irritable. All negative emotions were quickly wiped away when we saw a big tent in front of the cathedral with this title:

My kind of party.

The translation meaning, "Festival of Bread" or "Bread Party." I'm going to go with "Bread Party." Inside was a magical land full of bakery demonstrations, artistic creations using pastry and bread and most importantly, items for sale. Surveying the array of croissants, tartines and pastries before us, we finally selected a hefty chocolate chip brioche to share. It was buttery, soft and heavenly, and helped brace us for the cold, rainy minutes that followed as we waited in line to get into Notre Dame.

Inside Notre Dame.

We joined the throngs of tourists moving as quietly as we could through the funeral mass taking place inside. We admired the huge proportions and beautiful statues and stained glass, especially the "rosaces," or rose windows. After our circuit around the cathedral was completed, we reluctantly headed back out into the rain and the cold. We cut through the Bread Party again, mostly for the warmth and good smells, and grabbed a couple of samples of something sort of like cornbread for the road.

There was also this massive narwhal tooth.

Our next stop was the Cluny Museum of the Middle Ages in the Latin Quarter. The museum itself is built on top of an ancient Roman-style bathhouse. There were a lot of neat artifacts inside, including one of many solid gold roses the Avignon popes used to hand out as special awards. The most famous artworks inside this museum, however, are the unicorn tapestries--"La Dame a la Licorne." They are six 15th century tapestries that have survived the ages surprisingly well. Five of them show a lady interacting with a unicorn and a lion and each demonstrate one of the five senses. The sixth shows a lady outside of a tent bearing the inscription, "To my only desire." Part of the reason for the notoriety of these tapestries is their mysterious nature, as nobody quite understands what they mean.

Ceiling with trinkets.

After the Cluny, we stopped for lunch at nearby restaurant, that was admittedly chintzy and meant for tourists, but interesting, cheap and surprisingly delicious. The walls were covered with mosaics of Greek seascapes and the ceiling with red lightbulbs and an assortment of dangling trinkets. Most importantly for our purposes, it was warm and dry and they served food. But our meal was really good, and only 12 euros apiece.


The day becoming even colder and wetter, we decided to give the nearby Luxembourg Gardens a miss. We gratefully ducked into the nearest Metro to ride out to the Centre Pompidou, the modern art museum named after Georges Pompidou, president of France from 1969-1974. It is one of the few major Parisian museums I have never visited, but I'm glad we went to see it. After a whole trip full of Renaissance and classical art, we were ready for a change: namely, art that had a wider variety of topics than Biblical or historical scenes. The museum itself is fascinating, built to look sort of inside-out, with its escalators on the outside. We walked through displays of all kinds of art from the 20th century, from cubism and dadaism to more recent, post-modern works. Though I tend to prefer modern art, I must admit that some of it makes me question the talent and integrity of the so-called artist. For example, we saw one canvas that was painted a uniform navy blue. That was it. Just one shade for the whole thing. Next time I need someone to paint a room in my house, I'll call that guy. On the other hand, we saw some truly neat pieces. Some favorites are shown below:

Once we had decently covered the Pompidou, we grabbed the Metro back to the hotel to rest our feet and remember what it was like to be warm and dry. For dinner, we walked a block away to Fuxia, the Italian restaurant where we had had such wonderful desserts the night before, and enjoyed some bruschetta, lasagna and rigatoni. On a cold day, there's nothing like pasta to warm you up.

Place des Vosges.

Thankfully, the rain held off today, though it was still cool and cloudy until the afternoon. We began the day at nearby Angelina, named the best bakery in the first arrondissement, and indeed it was fantastic. I've eaten a lot of pain au chocolat (croissants with chocolate in the middle) in my day, but this one was exceptional. Eating on the way, we hopped on the Metro out to the Marais for our Paris Walks walking tour. Along with a couple dozen other English-speaking tourists, we walked and listened as our tour guide, an engaging and knowledgeable British woman named Oriel, told us about the history of various mansions, churches and houses in the area. The Marais, which is the French word for "marsh," was essentially that and not much else until the 15th century when it became fashionable to build country mansions there. It became an even more popular place for the nobility in the 17th century, when Henri IV oversaw the construction of the Place des Vosges, the oldest square in Paris where many courtiers built residences to be close to the king.

Oriel, our guide, in the Hotel de Beauvais

In more recent times, the Marais has housed the Jewish community of Paris, as immigrants from Eastern Europe who spoke only Yiddish were able to find work and housing there. As such, there are many kosher shops and falafel stands, as well as monuments commemorating the Holocaust. Learning about the history of this charming district was really fascinating, and I would recommend it for anyone coming to visit Paris.

So good.

Right after our tour was over, we booked it a few blocks away to the rue des Rosiers, the location of the famous L'As du Fallafel (meaning "Falafel Champion"), where we enjoyed what might possibly be the best falafels on the planet. Fried chickpea patties in a pita stuffed with cabbage and cucumber slaw, eggplant and yogurt sauce. Salivating yet? I am just thinking about it.

One of Polaine's 3 locations.

So this is how our little foodie pilgrimage began. Since we'd done our bit of history for the day, and since lots of museums are closed on Tuesdays, we journeyed to a couple of food-related destinations. I suppose the Angelina bakery this morning counted as the first stop, L'As du Fallafel the second. We did Berthillon ice cream next, having a couple of scoops at a nearby cafe. After that, we followed the winding rue Debelleyme to one of the Polaine bakeries; as in Lionel Polaine, a French artisanal baker who became famous for returning to traditional methods of bread-making. Still full of our lunch, we split a small 6-inch loaf just to have a taste of the magic.

The aromas inside this place...

We continued our pilgrimage, somewhat off the beaten path, headed all the way up north of the Place de la Republique to one of the top three patisseries in Paris, a little old-fashioned bakery called "Du Pain et des Idees," or "Of Bread and Ideas." Very quaint. We split a sacristain, which is basically a twist of flaky pastry dough with a vanilla sort of custard. It sounds like non-stop eating, but remember we were doing a lot of walking from place to place.

No room in my suitcase.

From deep into the 3rd arrondissement we walked all the way through the 2nd and into the 1st, where we stopped at Mora, the cookware store where many leading French chefs are said to shop. We poked around all the gadgets, pots and pans and pastry molds, including several types of Eiffel Tower cake pans.



These were tempting. Finally feeling the effects of walking and eating all day long, we made our way back to the hotel where I took a pre-dinner nap. Of course, we weren't even hungry until about 8pm. But when we finally did feel our tummies rumbling, we headed over to the rue des Petits Champs, where we ate dinner our first night here, to dine at the famous Willi's Wine Bar. A tad pricey for young people on a budget, but since it was our last night we splurged. And it was worth it. My asparagus salad, guinea fowl and chocolate mousse was one of the best meals I've had this whole trip, which is saying something.

Tomorrow we will rise early and head to the airport, where I will put John on a plane home and meet my parents, who will have just arrived. From there the three of us will hop on a train south to the Loire Valley. So ends one chapter of the trip and begins another. I'm sure more history and good food will follow.

Paris, je t'aime.

Yesterday around 1:00 we boarded the train in Avignon, bound for Paris. It was an uneventful trip; except for the weird snacks we bought for the trip, which included paprika-flavored Pringles and goat cheese and pepper flavored Cheeto-type thingies. Oddly yummy.

Our room at Hotel des Tuileries

As soon as we got off the train at the Gare de Lyon, the true Parisian experience began: a homeless man passed out spread eagle on the floor of the train station, a woman dressed as the devil selling kisses for 50 cents on the metro, etc. And without wifi access on my phone, which was unexpected, we got a little lost on our way to the hotel. With the help of the friendly people at the Paris tourist office, we finally made it there just as it began to rain. Our room is pretty tiny and seems to be covered with shiny metallic silver wallpaper. Despite this, it's actually very cozy and chic. And we could not have asked for a better location: about a five-minute walk from the Louvre.

The Tuileries gardens in the rain

After we settled into our room, we made the short walk over to the Tuileries gardens, despite the steady rainfall. Along the way, we admired the bright flowers of the gardens, Napoleon's triumphal arch commemorating his victory at Austerlitz and the magnificent Louvre museum with its huge glass pyramid. We wandered through a nearby artists' fair, smelling the great aromas coming from the food vendors, and realized we were hungry. We ventured deeper into the neighborhood, passing by one of my dad's favorite Parisian hangouts, Willi's Wine Bar, and choosing a bistro called Le Pain Quotidien ("the daily bread"), which claimed to be a "communal table" featuring lots of organic offerings. I'm not sure what qualifies as organic in a country that doesn't allow genetic modification of food, but my small mesclun salad and pot au feu (soup with vegetables and quinoa) was delicious nonetheless.

We earned this.

Our meal finished, we continued our walk around the quartier, seeing the Garnier Opera, Harry's Bar Americain full of its American college pennants and the wide variety of Asian restaurants. As the evening wore on, the effects of our relatively small dinner wore off and we were lured by tantalizing aromas into a small Mediterranean take-out place, where we couldn't resist getting a pizza to share. It was one of the best things I've ever tasted.

So much inside these walls!

Today, our first stop was the Louvre, where we spent a couple of hours wandering through the vast collection of art. The sheer number of pieces was overwhelming. There were some old favorites to see, though: the paintings representing the four seasons by Giuseppe Arcimboldo and the Winged Victoria of Samothrace. However, as sacrilegious as it may sound, I think we had more fun in the stores attached to museum where we found so many cool little things! Giant wooden robots, colorfully designed wallets and purses, Swatch watches and the like.


We walked through the Tuileries as the sun began to come out, making our way to the Orangerie museum, which houses Monet's waterlilies as well as various works by Soutine, Picasso, Renoir and others. A much smaller and more manageable museum than the Louvre, we enjoyed walking among the various paintings and getting absorbed by Monet's huge canvases.

Once we finished there, we moved on to see the Invalides, the museum of military history and Napoleon's tomb. Deciding that French military history was not worth the ticket price, and content to take pictures of the exterior with its massive golden dome, we moved on.

The Thinker

Our next stop was the Rodin museum, one of my favorite places to visit in Paris. We came in out of the pouring rain to linger among the works of this incredible sculptor, seeing such famous sculptures as The Thinker and the Gates of Hell. Rodin was so talented at sculpting the human figure that his contemporaries even accused him of fraud!

The last stop on our planned visits for the day was the Eiffel Tower, a must-see monument to say to least. We admired it from the Champ du Mars park on the southeast side, then crossed under it to the pavilion at the Trocadero to get a different angle. Along the way, I devoured a crepe filled with Nutella and whipped cream. What can I say, I'm a sucker for Nutella.

With sore feet, we boarded the Metro back to the first arrondissement and rested at the hotel for a little while. We caught a TV show called Ces Animaux Qui Nous Fait Rire ("these animals that make us laugh"), which was basically clips of animals doing funny things. After a long day of sight-seeing, it was a nice break.

When dinnertime rolled around, we ventured out into the neighborhood hoping to eat at one of the many Asian dives we passed yesterday. Being that it is Sunday, a lot of things were closed, but eventually we found a place simply called "Noodles," which seemed to be an amalgamation of various Asian cuisines. They had some killer pork dumplings. Walking around afterwards, our sweet tooth led us into a small Italian restaurant just behind our hotel for dessert: a sort of berry parfait with marscapone for me, and a Limoncello sorbet for John. The perfect ending to a fun day.

Les aventures continuent

After the past few days of sightseeing and day trips, we decided to spend Thursday in town, relaxing and doing some shopping, ostensibly for souvenirs but I ended up with a few things for me. I brought back souvenirs for my friends last time I was here, and I didn't want to bore them with more lavender sachets, so I stuck to finding a few gifts for my mom, dad and aunt, and some neat, useful things for myself, like a bag of dried lavender buds and a Provencal olive oil/vinegar cruet.

It is so good.

Before our shopping spree, we had lunch at a creperie in a small square just behind the Palais des Papes called Le Cloitre ("the cloister"). We each got a big entree salad, mine with goat cheese on toasted baguette slices and John's with potatoes and ham, and shared a savory crepe filled with ratatouille-style veggies. We topped this off with some ice cream down by the souvenir shops--I just had to get lavender ice cream one more time.


After we made our purchases, we dropped them off at the apartment, read for a little while, then went to visit the Calvet Museum, one of Avignon's largest museums. It had a lot of Renaissance and classical art from some of Avignon's most famous painters, as well as a really neat temporary exhibit on Egypt. However, there were cat mummies. That was kind of weird.

We found some cheap and delicious dinner at a place called Illico Pasta, where you can get a drink and big container of pasta for about 5 euros. While we ate I watched the news coverage of the newly elected French president, Francois Hollande, meeting with his new advisers. It's interesting to be here right after an election. Once we had eaten our pasta (three cheese for me, curry for John), we took a walk down the rue des Teinturiers (dyemakers' street), a quaint street full of waterwheels and, at least in the summer, lots of bustling outdoor restaurants and shops. It was pretty quiet as we walked through, as it is a little too early for it to be in full swing.

You can see the statue up top there.

Today, our last full day here in Provence, was spent a private minivan tour of the nearby city of Orange and the Chateauneuf du Pape region of wineries. Only the promise of wine could get me out of bed for a 9am tour. Our guide, Julien, was incredibly nice and very knowledgeable, and our tour companions were equally amiable: a middle-aged New Zealand woman on a world travel adventure and a cute family (mom and two college-aged kids) from Oklahoma. We started off the tour at a first-century triumphal arch at the north end of the city of Orange, which still has all its own original carvings in fantastic condition even though it's been standing for two thousand years. Next, we went to the ancient theatre in Orange, one of only three in the world that still has its stage wall. Though I'd been there before a few years back, I had never listened to the audio tour so I never knew all the history it held. The coolest factoid was that the huge statue of the Roman emperor that stood in a prominent place in the center of the stage wall had interchangeable heads that could be switched out with each change of power!

They age these red wine blends for 12-18 months!

Our next stop was at the remnants of Chateauneuf du Pape, which literally means "the pope's new castle," which was the pope's summer home up in the hills where the weather was cooler than in Avignon. It was built by Pope John XXII, who was the driving force behind promoting the viticulture of the region. Now the broader region that bears the name Chateauneuf du Pape houses the 2nd largest wine production in France, after Bordeaux. After we visited the ruins of the castle itself, we went the nearby winery owned by the Skalli family for a wine-tasting. There we tasted three wines, one white and two reds, and the woman explained how the wines were made and how to taste them. She taught us how to first look at the color of the wine, then how to smell it properly and distinguish all the flavors, then how to take a sip and "chew" on it and aerate it. I had never known the right way to go about it, and it was a lot of fun.

Yes, there are fries in there.

Once the tour was over, we headed to the nearby kebab stand where we ate our first day, as wine-tasting can give you quite an appetite, had a kebab, and promptly took a nap. We are on vacation, after all.


The afternoon was spent in Villeneuve-lez-Avignon, the town across the river that housed many of the cardinals during the Avignon papacy. There we visited the Fort St. Andre, a fortress/abbey that served as a French stronghold in the Middle Ages when the Rhone river was the southern border of the kingdom. It is somewhat less touristy that many of the other sites we've visited, but very cool in that you can walk on the ramparts of the fortress and look out over the whole city. After we finished there, we walked to the nearby convent of La Chartreuse, which was adorned with beautiful stone carvings, but didn't go inside because it was closing time.

Walking on the ramparts was the coolest part.

Our last dinner in Avignon was at a restaurant called Le Bercail, which is a terrace on the Barthelasse island from which you can see the Pont St. Benezet and the Palais des Papes. The food was delicious...I had a casserole of eggplant, tomato and goat cheese which I will have to try recreating at home, lamb medallions with garlic sauce and the best french fries I've ever had in my life, followed by the best creme brulee on the planet. I am not kidding. Definitely not a bad way to end a great week. 

Tomorrow, Paris.

Le patrimoine provencal

The past few days have been a leisurely tour of Provence's heritage (in French, le patrimoine). Monday was spent visiting the important cultural sites of Avignon, the Palais des Papes and the Pont St. Benezet (le pont d'Avignon). The Palais des Papes was the papal palace during the Avignon papacy of the Middle Ages, and has a lot of history within its walls. One of the coolest parts of the audio tour was in the "kitchen tower," where huge feasts would be prepared for saints' days and coronations. The British guy on the audio tour rattled off the litany of animals and other foods they needed for one particular feast: figures like 60,000 eggs, 17,000 chickens, 10,000 pigs, etc. It was pretty wild.

Inner courtyard of the Palais des Papes

View of the Pont St. Benezet from Barthelasse

After our tours, we took the ferry over to the man-made island, Isle de la Barthelasse, that runs through the middle of the huge Rhone river. It was built to ease the passage of travelers over the river after the bridge mostly collapsed, but in the 18th century its grassy banks became a popular location for the town's citizens to hang out and party. That's actually where the song "Sur le pont d'Avignon, on y danse" comes from. People didn't actually dance on the bridge, like the song says, but on the little island. We didn't dance there, but we did lay out in the grass and read for a couple hours. Then it was back into town in search of dinner. We had our first real sit-down dinner in a French restaurant, complete with gazpacho, kir (white wine with fruit syrup) and honeyed duck leg. Pretty yummy!

This baby could seat 24,000 people back in the day!

The next day, we hopped on a train to nearby Nimes to visit the famous heritage sites there. Nimes is steeped in the history of the Roman provinces, complete with a very well-preserved Roman arena, an ancient tower overlooking the city, and a temple to Caesar Augustus. Despite all this history, the town is fairly contemporary with large boulevards and modern buildings integrated with Roman ruins.

We started our tour of the city at the arena, where we took a guided audio tour and learned about the gladiator battles that took place there two thousand years ago, about how it was used as a military fortress for hundreds of years, and about the bullfights that happen there twice a year (Nimes is actually the bullfighting capital of France). After that, we went to the ancient temple (called Maison Carree, or Square House) and watched a 3D movie about the arena's use throughout the ages. The movie was not nearly as entertaining as the French 2nd-graders on a field trip exclaiming over the 3D effects.

Le Tour Magne

La Maison Carree

Our last stop was the park at Jardins de la Fontaine, a huge 18th century park that houses both the ruins of an ancient temple to the Roman goddess Diana and the Tour Magne, a remnant of a huge military tower. The view of the city from the top was breathtaking. Of course, we ran into yet another school field trip. This has become a running theme of our time here in France.

When we got back to Avignon, we went to the grocery store to pick up some things to make for dinner: chicken with sauteed carrots, peppers and onions, a baguette with soft herbed cheese and Nutella. Gotta have my Nutella.

Today we visited another site that is very important to French heritage: the Pont du Gard. This massive remnant of an ancient aqueduct stands as a testament to the ingenuity of the Romans. The site itself is amazing, but is definitely augmented by the museum that explains its construction, historical value and restoration. There was also an interactive temporary exhibit about the composition of the ground and how it affects construction. It was surprisingly interesting, probably because there were toys to play with.

View of Pont du Gard from the river's left bank

After our tour, we made our way back to the bus stop, chatted with some friendly Colombian tourists, and headed back to Avignon, a 40 minute bus ride away. The rest of the night's agenda consists of finding a good place for dinner. I love this town.