We arrived around 9:30 am at Charles de Gaulle airport. It was so confusing! It took for-freakin-ever to figure out where we had to go to get out and get on the train (RER) to get to Paris! Before we found that, though, we asked the lady at the Information desk where the train was, and she was so helpful: “walk about 5 or 10 minutes that way!” Thanks! We also decided it might be beneficial to change some US dollars over to Euros….don’t do that at the airport if you can help it…it was the worst exchange rate we saw, plus they charged a few dollars for it as well. So we finally found the RER station, bought tickets and got on the RER to Paris. The whole ride (which was my first train ride ever!) I was peering out the window excitedly looking for a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower. Anne finally told me we were way too far out to be able to see it. Bummer!
Once off the RER we took the metro to a stop near the apartment we had rented for the week. I was SO confused by the whole mass transit system! And overwhelmed! (Then again, I was in those states pretty much the whole day…) We hauled our bags up the narrow winding stairs to our apartment, which was very cute. It was one-bedroom, and had a toilet and bath/shower, so we were set. And it had a very tiny but cute little kitchen area. We had already decided Anne got the bedroom and I was going to sleep on the futon. No matter! I was in Paris at last!
We cleaned up a bit (washed our faces, mainly) and I dozed off on the couch for maybe half an hour, and then we were off! We stopped at the first little restaurant we saw, right on the corner near our apartment, called Le Pain Quotidien, and had open-faced sandwiches there. (Apparently the French eat open-faced sandwiches with forks and knives! I struggled…at least once the knife slipped and a piece of my sandwich went skittering across the table...embarrassing!)
Then we went off to do a walking tour of our own. I had left my camera at home—Anne had hers, so she took the pictures. We went to the Eiffel Tower first, where I was so overwhelmed with emotion it was all I could do to keep the tears at bay. Seriously. I was so happy to finally see it, after wanting to for nearly 2 decades! The lines were long to go up, so we decided to do it later. We wandered through the Latin Quarter (I had decided I might do a spot of souvenir shopping) and around Notre Dame. It was a really long day…several times we were like, “Oh! It’s only 3! (or 5! Or whatever!) I thought it was MUCH later!”) Finally we went to the neighborhood where Frank Woeste was playing. I had emailed him a few weeks before; I had gone to high school with him (he was a German exchange student) and looked him up—he is a musician in Paris! Cool! So he was going to be playing at a jazz club (Le Sunside) in Chatelet-Les Halles, so we went to go see him. They didn’t start seating people for the show until 9, so we had to go find other things to do to kill time (hence the really long, slow-moving-time day!) We went to a place next to the Pompidou Centre that served buckwheat crepes (called gallettes) filled with meats, eggs, mushrooms, whatever you want. It was SO good! Finally it was time, and we ended up with seats right up at the front, kind of on one side (we were behind Frank). They played some good music, though the slower songs nearly put us to sleep, and the guy who sang scat was totally awesome! They took a break after one 50-minute set, and I jumped up and ran after Frank (he had beelined for the bar). I think I tapped his shoulder or something, or maybe I said “Frank!” and he heard the Texan in my voice? I can’t remember, but I got his attention either way, and he recognized me. We had a nice chat for a few minutes, and then we left to go get some sleep. It was good to see him!
