En route... again

Our last morning in Paris began with a headache and the recycling of wine bottles.  We walked to the Gare du Nord and boarded the RER-B for the airport.  Carl and I were flying from different terminals, and to different locations.

We said our goodbyes and I headed off for Scandinavia.  

After a layover in Denmark and a panicky busride, I finally arrived in Stockholm, Sweden.  My home for the next two weeks.

I looked forward to finding some Tylenol in my suitcase (worst headache EVER), some dinner, and sleep.  So much sleep.  The first two things on my list were easily accomplished.  After locating a Lidl, my Tylenol was washed down with a Coke and chased with spaghetti (cheapest meal).  Sleep was harder to accomplish.

Remember how Sweden is pretty far north in the grand scheme of things?  In Minnesota we think we live in the "North."  We are wrong.  Remember how, in winter, Sweden is all but consumed in neverending darkness?  Well...  What does that mean, in summer?  It means the sun never really sets.  Twilight kicks in for a few hours each night, with sunrise starting around 3:30 am!  Ahhhhh.

Saying the sunset is at 10:08pm is generous.  Trust me when I say it never actually goes all the way down.  Anyway-
Pair that with the fact that I arrived on the summer solstace (midsommar!), aka the longest day of the year.

Yes, I did not sleep so well at first.  Eventually I got used to it, but those first couple of nights were awful.

Ayway, that first night I eventually slept, waking every few hours to check the clock.

The next day I woke up early.  I had a mission:  I had to buy my course books. 
(SPOILER ALERT: I bought them, took the class, and finished about a month ago. Sorry I suck at updating)

Paris, part 4

The last two things we did in Paris:

The first thing:

Head over to the Pont des Arts.  Almost three years ago I put a lock on that bridge.  It said CH+DZ.  HOW ROMANTIC.  I chucked the key in the river.  I put it on a relatively empty spot on the bridge.  It wasn't very crowded at this point in time.  

When we went back there was no hope in finding it again.  The bridge is so full of locks that several panels collapsed under the weight earlier this year.  Our lock is buried somewhere on that bridge, so we abandoned all hope of locating it, and just enjoyed the view.  

It was at this point in time, on the way to The Second Thing, that we saw Shaq.  Yes, that Shaq.  He is very large.  What a weird thing to have happen.

The second thing:

Walk past the Louvre.  It's crowded and you'll never have enough time to explore it if you start in the late afternoon.

Walk, walk, walk.  To the Jardin du Luxembourg.

The second thing we did that day was my favorite thing we did that day.  We got ourselves a couple of chairs at the octagonal pool (better than the round pool), I opened my Marie Claire, and was in heaven.

If I lived in Paris, I am sure I would go there every nice day there was.

Carl and I had a picnic lunch, and I enjoyed the warm sun.  I was feeling positively one with the universe... until some damn teenagers started having a water fight.  As soon as I felt a cold spray of water on my back the spell was broken, I resisted the urge to scream at them ("MAIS QU'EST-CE QUE VOUS FETES LA?!"), declared I was "done," and walked away.

Damn kids, get off my lawn, etc.

My wrap-up:  Paris has so much beauty, I can't begin to imagine living in such a place.  Do you think it would just fade into the background as it became the norm?  Would you ever get used to the smell of pee?

Questions to be answered, perhaps, at a later time.

Paris, part 3

Paris in the sunshine is wonderful, though I always picture it overcast.  Luckily, we had a good deal of sun while we were visiting.  Here is a post mostly full of obligatory and stereotypical photos!

Do you see these beautiful gates, dear readers?  They were on the Champs Elysées... and they lead to an Abercrombie.  No joke.  Ha.

Paris, part 2

St Germain de Prés is one of my favorite spots in Paris.  It is expensive and "chic," but often less touristy and crowded.  I love the big, wide boulevards (merci, Haussman) and classically French façades.

It's the neighborhood where you'll find La Durée, along with countless other delicious patisseries and cafes.  It is also where you'll find two famous cafés (especially for the literary types): Les Deux Magots and Café Flore.

In my experience, Les Deux Magots has better service and is much more visually appealing than Café Flore next door.  We sat at table right next to a photo of Hemingway.  Carl passed the time writing a little something inspired by the experience (he loves Hemingway) and I passed the time eating coffee dipped whipped cream with a tiny spoon.  SHUSH!  If I'm going to buy an eight dollar coffee, I will consume it in the way of my choosing.

A tip from a Parisienne:  Get there early, buy a pot of coffee, bring a paper or magazine, and make sure to sit inside.  You can stay for hours.  

The people watching is great, as well.  My tip: get a café viennois and focus more on the whipped cream than the coffee.

Mmm...