Parìs is... a) always a good idea, b) finger lickin’ good, c) both
- Rajni Dee
- Jul 22, 2022
- 6 min read
If you guessed C, then you, my friend, are correct! But here’s the story about how the world’s most romantic city became finger lickin’ good.
Five of us fabulous ladies went to Paris for a friend’s milestone birthday. For many of us, it was our first time there. We stayed fairly central to everything, at Novotel Les Halles - which was walking distance to the Louvre (and Louis Vuitton HQ, btw), around the corner from a major metro station and surrounded by cute eateries in every direction. In fact, one of the cafés nearby had a nightly live musician, who was quite enjoyable. IMO though, the real kicker was that the lobby lounge served VALRHONA hot cocoa! And for those of y’all who don’t know, Valrhona is pretty much the best, highest quality chocolate in the world! No lie, no argument, even the toughest critics agree.
Our first night in town, we had tickets to the world famous Moulin Rouge. The show was fantastic, even though our jet lagged selves were seeing double. Or maybe just mine were. As a show/theatre/performance buff, I wouldn’t say this was like the best show ever, but it just a must-see your first time visiting the City of Light. We’d met a young couple from UK there, who were a delight to chat to. But with all that said, the thing I loved most about that night was the drive over. I saw parts of Paris that reminded me of Soho in Manhattan—very trendy, energetic, really abuzz. There was something really familiar about it all and I was amazed. THAT’S the area I wanted to go back to and spend time in. Promise to myself: next time I go, that’s exactly what I’ll do. But anyway, getting back to our ride….
Here we are, five of us in a taxi van. I was in the middle-ish row and somehow able (not) to converse with both the front and rear passengers. We ‘rear folk’ are having totally deep conversations while the sights fly by, when, out of nowhere and without invitation, I decided to join in the front passengers’ conversation with the driver… who was talking to them about cultural differences. That’s precisely when our driver got stuck on the translation of something and—I promise you—I SWEAR I saw her lick her fingers as she asked what that’s called, so of course I said, “oh, finger lickin’ good?” NO, girl. No.
Oysters.
They were talking about champagne, restaurants, famous French restauranteurs with locations in the U.S., cuisine, etc., and at that particular time, they were talking about oysters! Our driver wasn't licking her fingers, she was 'slurping' oysters.
Needless to say, ‘Colonel Dumbass’ never lived that one down. Not only for the rest of that trip, but ‘til this day. BUT, talk about good mojo and the sorts of laughs you carry with you. Years later, I was in Budapest and randomly came across this:
At least the Universe shares my sense of humor.
Of course we took a tour of the Eiffel Tower. Another first-time must. The experience was as expected, with ticket line being lengthy, the elevator within the tower being questionable (small, kinda rickety from my recollection) and the view being iconic. Breathtaking not only for the views of the city, but for me personally, setting my eyes on a place that I’d studied and, for long, had only seen in movies. It was a calming experience, up there, and one I couldn’t get enough of. And when they say that Paris is also the City of Love, they aren’t kidding. Since we did spend so much time waiting for tickets, we (at least I) ended up chatting to the couple standing behind us. He’s Italian and she’s Argentinian. They met during his frequent trips to Argentina, fell in love, and he brought her back to Paris. How cool was that? Theirs was only one of many personal interactions I’d had during the trip. I know the French have a reputation for being… mmm, not so friendly?, but I gotta tell ya, my trip was full of positive experiences with the people I met.
After a long day of touring, we decided to take a carriage ride back. Of course, our eyes fell on the one that most resembled Cinderella’s pumpkin.
Unfortunately I don’t have a picture of the exterior, but imagine this: a giant, fairytale-esque carriage, with purple lights. Inside and out. This thing mesmerized us from a block away; we were like prey to an Anglerfish.
Our driver was really nice and possibly quite entertained by us, who would stop being so tickled pink-- nope, purple--by the experience.
One of the best things I’ve ever done (and it wasn’t even my idea) was get a guided tour of the Louvre. My one friend and I are huge art buffs, so we were in paradise. We could have stayed there for days, we were so enthralled. Having done so much in my life, I’m rarely deeply moved by anything anymore (not in a bad way), but when I saw the Mona Lisa, I was transfixed. I just couldn’t stop looking at her, testing her visual hold on her onlookers. (Did her eyes follow you as you moved?) Despite all the crowd, I was miraculously not shoved out of place. I stood there, I don’t know for how long, just staring way at this surprisingly small painting, who’d lived a thousand lifetimes.
We did ultimately have to get going, as we had dinner plans at night to dine at
58 Tour Eiffel—another must-try your first time in Paris or for some special occasion (read my Yelp review). Pictured right: me, after dinner, waiting for the elevator. Hey, why waste a good view? (Or my fleeting stability?)
The following day we hit up Avenue de Champs Élysees. After touring the Arc de Triomphe, we walked around the avenue, ate at one of the many bistros and, best part, when we were waiting to hail a cab, guess who ran into? Our carriage driver from the other night! What are the odds of that happening in such a big city, right? But more so, he recognized us and was happy to see us. He was like the fifth local that day to be nice to us. People were happily guiding us—directions, restaurant suggestions, etc.—and it was an amazing experience. Even the café worker at the Eiffel Tower, who had just snapped at the people ahead of us was nice to me and my friend. I guess it’s the energy you put out there?
One day we set aside for shopping (oh, and believe me, shopping was done). The next, our last in Paris, the girls wanted to shop for souvenirs. F**k that shit, I wanted to visit Pere La Chaise. So I hopped on the metro to spend the day walking around the famous cemetery. As the city dissolved behind me to give way to less refined, more urban locales, I understood what people mean when they say that Paris is not safe. I’m a pretty tough cookie, but some of the places I was seeing that day made me realize I was out of my element a bit. And besides, general rule? Maybe avoid any place named Stalingrad (a local stop on the way).
That night, one of the girls and I did a self-administered ‘walking food tour’. We ate at one of the many local Lebanese joints in Les Halles, went to typical French pâtisserie for dessert and walked around the ‘everyday’ streets, picking up a few trinkets.
It was the perfect trip—we did all the must-see things, spent quality time together and ate everything everywhere (at least I did). In the end, Paris indeed proved to be finger lickin’ good.
around the 'hood. drunken nights with one's mates is a global phenomenon, and the one thing that will unite humanity for generations to come. some folks thought to decorate a bush nearby our hotel for Christmastime. how festive.
entrance at the Louvre
few images of and inside the Arc
there was this beautiful memorial outside, a calming contrast from the stark indoors. also, there was no lift, so we climbed to the top. (worth it)!
view from atop the #Bastille
the opulence of the Palace of Versailles. funny story, we actually had McDonald's the day we came here. wasn't finger lickin' good, but still yummy.
cimetière du père lachaise - entrance
Jim Morrison's grave (my main reason for going)
before and after: the authentic French pastry edition
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