‘Paris has woven its magical spell on me, and I can’t wait for us to go back.’ That’s how I concluded my last Paris entry, and back we are for a relaxing two-and-a-bit days before we head south to Lyon. A mix-up over some ballet tickets mean that we won’t see any performances at Charles Garnier’s beautiful and grand opera house, but it won’t matter.
We’ve already seen so much more and so many different parts of this beautiful city than we did two years ago. Arriving Saturday, we sped across the city after dumping our bags at the hotel to watch Eurovision 2010 in the Happi Bar, in Beaubourg (Israel got the biggest cheer of the night), before shooting back to the hotel to catch the scoring and a late night.
This morning dawned cloudy, and a morning walk to meet Geoff took us through meandering streets and passageways lined with market stalls on the way from Gare du Nord. The Parisians seem to love setting up makeshift stalls and selling their unwanted possessions in the back street boulevards – the areas really do look like garage sales but on a bigger scale.
Vintage Kylie records were bypassed due to restrictions carrying them around the city and getting them home in a full bag, but it was a bustling and charming diversion. Even though we had no ballet tickets, we still made it to the opera house in time to admire yet another piece of stunning Paris architecture, before settling into Brioche Dorée for a pastry and coffee breakfast.
Meeting Geoff at the Louvre, we decided to cross the river and walk up the hill on the east of the city passing St Germain des Pres and the Pantheon to find some lunch. Rue Mouffetard was the destination, and after walking for what seemed like ages in ill-fitting and new shoes, we found La Bistrot Gourmand, where we feasted on three courses for €9.
A bargain, and heartily full and rested, we walked back through the Latin Quarter and the Left Bank, passing the Musee D’Orsay, en route to Citroën’s C42 flagship showroom on the Champs Elysees. Neighbouring Renault a few doors away got a visit, too, and after a quick freshen up back at the hotel, we ventured out for an evening supper.
Chartier proved to be too good to be true, and an awful lot of people had heard good reports about it, too. The queue for the restaurant was out onto the street, so we abandoned plans to eat well but cheaply, and found a local pizzeria instead. Pizzeria Valponi was buzzy, its food was tasty, and nestled in the shadow of the Grand Magazins, it was only a short Metro ride back to the hotel. A busy first day, and one that my feet concluded we’d done too much walking for, but it feels good to be back.
