Tuesday, May 14, 2013 at 5:59PM The Trocadero is my favorite spot in Paris. Overlooking the Eiffel Tower and the posh 7th arrondissement, the vantage point it offers is unparalleled. Soaking in the beauty and rich history of this most famous city in the world was more than a few afternoons well spent:
Statuary at Trocadero:
View of the Trocadero from the top of the Eiffel Tower: 
Saturday, May 11, 2013 at 8:12PM My second day in Paris, I played typical tourist and took a double decker bus tour through the city. Despite the chill in the air, I chose to sit on the top deck to ogle all the beautiful and impeccably styled Parisians. It was like a 24/7 fashion show; I have never felt so fat, ugly and poor. Until I got to Monaco, which is when I started to feel like a leper.
The first stop I got off was the Louvre. It was absolutely massive and so was the line to get in. I took a few pictures of the exterior and famous glass pyramid, encountered a few scammers and kept moving on. Right next to the Louvre and crossing the Seine is the famous "lock" bridge. Actually, there's more than one as the original is running out of space AND these are all over Europe, but I suppose the one in the City of Light is the most romantic because hey - Paris is for lovers (although I wonder how many of the couples bound for eternity on its railing have since broken up?). With my iPod in my pocket, I kept pace under the gray skies. I may have been alone but my heart was lost to the city.
The first line that I decided to wait in was to enter the renowned gothic Cathedral of Notre Dame. It didn't take too long (maybe an hour) and in a town full of entrance fees - including for washrooms - it was free. My favorite part of traveling through Europe is visiting the historic churches and their glorious architecture. While I'm not of a religious nature, it's hard not to be swept up in their grandiosity. I also like to observe people in their search for something more in life. We all yearn for something more whether it be tangible or spiritual, realistic or pure faith.
My search would soon be for a washroom, which led me to my third line of the day. You never see Rick Steeves or any of the Lonely Planet authors talk about this, but it's vital information for a holiday. Trust. Patience is a virtue in Paris, as is having a pocket full of change. You will need both when using a washroom facility here. While waiting at the one near the cathedral (20 minutes), all I could hear were the staff (né grumpy hags) yelling at everyone to pay a fee. If they didn't pay enough of a fee, they got yelled at some more. WWJD? WWDD??? Well, what I did was leave to try and find a McDonalds universally known as a place with addictive salty fries and free, clean toilets. Unfortunately, the facilities in Paris are more locked down than the Pentagon. Not wanting to wait in another line (seriously, you CANNOT escape lines in Paris), I made my way to the subway expecting the worst. Instead I discovered something of a miracle - a luxury public washroom that must have been something of a tourist destination as it had its own souvenir section. Yes, this washroom not only sold "upgrades" on handsoap (seriously) but also every manner of Eiffel Tower-stamped cheese that you could ever dream up: keychains, magnets, t-shirts...it was pretty strange. Not least of which because there was no line.
The Louvre:
Pont de l'Archeveche (lock bridge):
Interior of Notre Dame Cathedral:
Interior of Notre Dame Cathedral:
Statue of Saint Joan of Arc:
Saturday, May 4, 2013 at 3:13PM Now that I've recovered from eating myself into a new pant size, I've decided to write about my experiences in one of the most beautiful countries I've ever visited: France. I arrived in Paris on Thursday, April 4, the day before my 33rd birthday. It was a long flight and a long day, and my first hint at what the City of Light was going to be like came at Charles de Gaulle airport. The line-up to get through customs was longer than anything I've seen at Disney or the DMV. This would, of course, be the first of many. Paris is not for the impatient or those with bowel problems. I would guesstimate that collectively over the three weeks I was there, I spent the equivalent of one whole day just standing around waiting. And waiting.
But it was worth it.
After more than two hours, I collected my baggage and boarded a shuttle to my hotel. The perfume and cigarette aroma of the city heavily filtering through the streets reminded me of an old lady playing bingo...although the atmosphere was a tad classier than a prairie legion hall. There's just something about Paris. The people, the fashion, the food, the architecture, the art, the aura...they all combine to make a feast for the senses. It's very easy to lose one's heart, soul and mind there. I don't think there's any greater city in the world.
On the drive in, I couldn't help but notice all of the Romani camps situated in nearly every open space, from riverbank frontage on the Seine to an open lot next to an IKEA. As we neared the Eiffel Tower, a different sight caught my eye - that of all the armed guards patrolling the area:
My hotel was right next to this most iconic of world landmarks, so I felt safe (even though the guards looked all of eighteen years old and probably shouldn't have been handling semi-automatic weapons). The only thing that concerned me were the sheer number of scammers everywhere. You couldn't escape them if you tried. If someone offers you a ring or a wallet or the opportunity to aid the "Human Fund" , just keep walking. It even made the news when workers at the Louvre walked off the job in protest over security concerns surrounding the number of pickpockets plying their trade within its walls. Boy, I would have been pissed if I stood in that line and was turned away.
After putting my suitcases in my room, I strolled the immediate area of the 7th arrondissement. The hoardes of tourists pretty much stay along the Seine, leaving the rest of this neighborhood comparatively quiet. With everything in walking distance and plenty of traditional cafés and bakeries, I would definitely recommend it as a base. It was here that I purchased all of the desserts from my previous posts and discovered that authentic French bread is absolutely nothing like the lies and deceit that North American grocers and bakeries sell. It's heaven in dough form. In fact, everything I ate was simply the best of the best. The French not only put in the time to craft perfection, but ensure that everything is a masterpiece to look at as well. Cuisine was no exception. I have become inspired to live my own life with this joie de vivre. Even when eating macaroni and cheese.
Next: Notre Dame, the Latin Quarter and Trocadero in Part II.
View of the Eiffel Tower from along the Seine River:
The Statue of Liberty on Île des Cygnes:
Napolean's Tomb:
Line-up outside of the Louvre:
Wednesday, April 10, 2013 at 2:14PM 
Flan from a McCafe at McDonalds (really, really good!).
Monday, April 8, 2013 at 11:55PM 
Wine-flavoured cream covered in chocolate ganache and topped with a flower petal.
Sunday, April 7, 2013 at 8:05AM 
Not sure what this is called but its amaretto base and cream & sugared raspberry topping are clearly made by the God of Expanding Waistlines.
Friday, April 5, 2013 at 8:00AM 
Strawberry mousse with a layer of apples and a bottom layer of dark chocolate:
Thursday, April 4, 2013 at 5:30PM 
Raspberry/peach eclair (the inside is a spectacular blend of peach-flavoured cream with fresh raspberries...seriously one of THE best desserts I've ever eaten).
Tuesday, March 26, 2013 at 5:11PM Have started taking pictures of people I meet in #YXE as part of an art project I'm putting together. Meet Annie:
