Parisian Vignettes

"The American who has known Europe much can never again see his country with the single eye of his ante-European days."

-Henry James, The Ambassadors

If you've never been, there are far better primers on the City of Love than I can offer. If you have, then you have an idea what's what. Either way, I've decided to focus on the prose, and not on the sights.

Le Métro

Our flight from Tallinn landed at Orly Airport (ORY), which was quite convenient as it appeared the Paris Metro Line 14 could seamlessly take us from the terminal to within blocks of our hotel. I studied the route in detail, as whether it's airports, movie theaters, real estate, or prior relationships, I'm always working on an escape plan.

I knew there might be a wrinkle with my plan when I saw that the Aéroport d'Orly Metro station had some 25 ticket kiosks with a maze of ropes to handle the queue. It didn't take us long to get to a kiosk, but after pressing the Union Jack icon to get English text, I was confronted by a screen allowing me to pick the "From Zone 1 - 5" and the "To Zone 1 - 5." Something that looked like this:

I then thought, "How would I know what zone I'm in or which one I’m going to?" When I tried to select various zones to drive the cost down, it appeared that the screen was locked, so I went to the next kiosk, where I quickly realized that the zone screen was preselected ("From Zone 1, To Zone 5"), could not be changed and that all I now had to do was select the number of tickets and insert my credit card.

It all seemed like a hassle and when Madame AAR's newly issued Île-de-France mobilité Navigo easy smart contactless transit card didn't work, I thought this isn't a very welcoming welcome. I also thought since the (pre) selected screen and the price charged to everyone is the exact same, why did I just have to go through all this ridiculousness. In fact since the entire Metro system works on a fixed price entry, why not like Stockholm, Helsinki and Tallin just do away with the whole Metro transit card BS and let me use the universal transit card that is already in my wallet, the one called my Capital One Venture X credit card.

Normally it costs €2.50 to enter a Paris Metro station, but the d'Orly metro station charges €13. ChatGPT mentions this is done as "the higher fee helps fund infrastructure and services tailored to airport travelers.” Though ChatAAR thinks "the higher fee is because the Metro can get away with it and due to the not insignificant efforts of the powerful la Fédération Nationale du Taxi (FNDT) and la Uber."

La Tour Eiffel

If you've never visited Paris before then you need to do the Eiffel Tower, it's really that simple (and costly). The architecture, the history, the crowds and the Senegalese immigrants selling various colored mini-Eiffel towers are not to be missed.

Since I've already done it, I cruised by to see everyone else who hadn't. The base is surrounded by hockey glass, which allowed me to watch all those fresh, eager and sweaty faces standing in queues waiting to take their turn visiting what is probably the most iconic tourist landmark in the world. It's kind of like going to the zoo and being able to watch all the inmates without fear of attack.

According to signs that display the various ticket schemes, you can save some €22 by not going to the top and just taking an escalator/stairs to the 2nd stage. Now I'm all for saving euros and if I could save 22 of them by climbing an external ladder all the way to the top, I'd be down, but traveling all the way to Paris to only go to the 2nd stage of the Eiffel Tower seems a little ridiculous. As Madame AAR stated more than once, "you can't really do Paris on a budget."¹

Since I’ve already been, I figured I do something a little more Parisian. So I then took the €36.10 I just saved by not visiting, and reallocated three of them to buying a cold one from the Asian Store and then sat down at the table outside and enjoyed the Biere O'clock view.

6 Rue de Monttessuy

According to Wikipedia it is "the most-visited paid monument in the world." And nothing says Paris like drinking a Kronenbourg tall boy while viewing it from a table adjacent to a restaurant called Chez Ming.

Harry's New York Bar

After settling in to my Paris hotel, I made a left out the front door to make a brief arrondissemental reconnaissance and immediately noticed a bright red neon sign indicating the epicenter of cocktail lore. Due to my extensive knowledge of drinking I also immediately knew Harry’s New York Bar to be the home of the French 75, the sidecar, and an iteration of the boulevardier.

5 Rue Daunou²

I sat down at the bar the next day. If it's the same one that was imported from New York City back in 1911 they've done a masterful job in keeping it up, same as the adjacent lounge covered in wainscoting and college pennants. It's all quite clubby, manly, and collegial as if to say serious and scholarly drinking is to be done here.

It was a little on the early side, just before, as Raymond Chandler might say "the boiling hour," so there was just a server and one bartender behind the bar. They were both wearing the white New York steakhouse lab coat, which is a uniform that can make anyone look like they know what they're doing (which is very useful when serving a $75 steak at Peter Luger). The server though was new, like new new, maybe even her first day and her uniform couldn't hide that. I'm not complaining (yet), as we've all been there. It made me think of my first day working at Carvel or on the USS Albuquerque (SSN-706), where at the end of it I was thankful I remembered my name.

The server though appeared to know his shit, and therefore I said to him, "So, the French 75 was invented right at this very bar?" After he acknowledged, "Yes." I replied, "So Ernest Hemingway, might have very well ordered one while sitting at this very barstool?" He looked a little confused at first, but then picked up on what I was selling, "Yes, Monsieur, I'm sure he did!"

So I ordered one, that consisted of lemon juice, simple syrup, and gin shaken with ice, strained into a champagne flute and then topped with Champagne.

Immediately after ordering I remembered the main drawback of drinking a French 75: the drink hinges on the Champagne, as one made with a newly opened bottle tastes very different from one that was made with a bottle opened that was opened less recently. Well mine was the latter and therefore was lacking in effervescence.

Despite this petite catastrophe, the subsequent arrival of Madame AAR put me in a celebratory mood and I asked Pierre, "Do you think that F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda had a Manhattan on the rocks while sitting on these very barstools?" Pierre looked at me more than a little confused and said, "Who?" I repeated in my best Français, "F. Scott Fitzgerald."

"Oh, him" he replied coolly, "He died before I was born, so I have no idea." It then slowly dawned on me that the bar had filled up quite a bit since our initial Lost Generational conversation, so I coolly replied, "L'addition s'il vous plaît."

If you're a cocktail historian and/or writer of fine prose, then a visit to Harry's is definitely in order . . . though make sure that your French 75 is made with an unopened bottle of Champagne. If it's not then you might want to go with a Monkey Gland.

Lodgings

One way to book lodgings in the City of Lights is to review each arrondissement (administrative district) and determine which suits your unique cultural, gastronomic and logistical needs.

Another option could be to review all the hotels that meet your economical needs, pick the one closest to the Seine and then when you discuss it with friends emphasize the qualities of the arrondissement it is located in.

I booked a hotel in the intimate 2nd Arrondissement, a compact tangle of narrow streets, historic arcades, and hidden gems. It's often overlooked, which worked in my favor. Here, the vibe shifts from grand boulevards to market stalls and wine bars. Add it to your Paris neighborhoods guide if you're after charm without the fanfare and a few quirky things to do in Paris neighborhoods without elbowing through crowds.

Our little piece of 2nd Arrondissement heaven was called the Hotel Choiseul Opera, with its last name emphasizing its location near the home of the Paris Opera, the Palais Garnier and it's middle name meaning, "two hundred dollar a night shoebox," in French.³

The place might not have really been that small as when I reviewed the "PLAN D'EVACUTION" on the back of the door to my room, I noticed we actually had a room a little larger than most. The layout was little odd as the toilet ("WC") was on the other side of the room from the shower/sink, which sounded rather sophisticated but when you have to stand up to close the WC door, it all felt a little tight.

The Elevator in Question at 1 Rue Daunou

The hotel is classic French, with that meaning it had a tiny elevator encircled by a tiny staircase. So tiny that I thought about just using it for our luggage and then walking up two floors, until I was informed that it was broken.

Les messieurs at the front desk, Gregory ("Greg or reee") and Charles ("Charles") were outstanding and very helpful with restaurant recommendations and more importantly reservations. Though Charles screwed us over price-wise when we needed to extend our stay by one night. As the "bobonne" mentioned soothingly to me, "the tone changes when it comes to business," and as I soothingly said to myself "C'est la vie!"

Endnotes: I wanted to provide some very specific details that, while vaguely interesting, did not contribute to the overall narrative. Perhaps just wait until the end to enjoy.

¹ Regarding Paris on a budget, if you visit Copenhagen prior to visiting Paris, then Paris may feel like a down right bargain.

² A Harry's Haiku:

You don't "parlez-vous?"

Why then it's "Sank Roo Doe Noo,"

Get the Monkey Gland!

³ Our hotel was actually named after Lieutenant-General Étienne François de Choiseul, Duke of Choiseul, KOHS, OGF (1719 – 1785), a French Royal Army officer, diplomat and statesman who had a strong influence on France's global strategy throughout the period. Choiseul is closely associated with France's defeat in the Seven Years' War and subsequent efforts to rebuild French prestige.