It’s late May and the weather still hasn’t settled down – 14 degrees one day, 21 the next – but the days are gradually getting longer and the light behind my blinds woke me up at 6.30 today. Instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, I got up and made coffee. Went for a little walk down to the bus stop to put someone on the bus for the Gare du Nord, and then to the bakery for a croissant. Sitting on the sofa right now with a second coffee, and croissant covered in almond butter.
[Incidentally, now that I live over in the 10th, the perfect house guest is one who goes to Coutume Café for lunch, and brings me back freshly ground Kenyan roast. Bye Fin! Was lovely having you to stay!]
We met up after work yesterday and went up the Arc de Triomphe for a wee peek at Paris. This was our backup plan after one of the lifts at the Eiffel Tower broke. Glad I found that out before we went, queues of up to two hours to go up, no thanks.
I love looking at Paris, I’ll never get sick of it, and the Arc de Triomphe is not too crowded. I love looking down the tree-lined avenues in all directions, and you get a nice view of the Eiffel Tower – close enough to appreciate how much it towers (ahem) over everything by a large factor.
Then we headed down to Trocadero for a bit of a closer look at the old lady from the esplanade. I love having visitors, especially people who have never been to Paris before. It reminds me of the thrill I got from coming round a corner and seeing Notre Dame for the first time, when I was 16, on a rainy Friday night.
Then on a bit of a hunch, we went to the Palais de Tokyo for dinner. The Palais de Tokyo is dedicated to modern art, which I can take or leave most days. But I had heard that the restaurant was excellent, and so it turned out. A big concrete space with high ceilings, it could have been like eating in a warehouse, but they did a good job with drop lighting and unobtrusive music to give it a nice atmosphere. The décor is very 70s, unless retro is the new modern – all white form-injected plastic chairs with brightly coloured fabric linings or individually painted.
The young and the beautiful were out for dinner – and some of them were serving it too. But the service was very professional, and the menu was classics with a modern twist. I had the multi-coloured beetroot carpaccio, cut paper-thin by some miracle of technology, served with a dollop of faisselle, sort of a cross between yoghurt and cottage cheese. Fin had the salmon carpaccio, and then we both had the lamb shanks confit with white beans pureed with parmesan. It was outstanding. The Vacqueyras red from the Rhone region was so good I had to write down the name – I’m not a wine expert at all, but I would definitely look for that one again. What a pity neither of us had room for dessert – the “100% dark chocolate, 100% satisfied or 100% reimbursed” was intriguing. Sleep? Who needs sleep?
Downsides of the Palais de Tokyo: Contrary to what I hoped, the restaurant doesn’t have a view of the Eiffel Tower. The toilet door handles are way too modern art for me and I couldn’t figure out how to work them. And even if you eat at the restaurant, you have to pay 8 euros to visit the collections. I don’t know much about art but I know I like food.
Getting up this early has its benefits. The streets are empty, the air is fresh, and Paris feels enchanting. I duck into the new café at the end of my street, the Piscine Saint-Louis. Done up in an old-fashioned style, but everything is brand spanking new from the black and white floor tiles to the wicker chairs and the zinc bar. There’s a barman drying glasses and one lone customer sipping a coffee. They do brunch on the weekend, a la carte, after 11am. But I’m much too early. So I head home with my croissant and make some more coffee.
