Life: Idiotropic

I hope you all enjoyed your celebrations.

About a month ago I'd toyed with the idea of staying in Paris a couple extra days so that we could spend New Year's there too, but it was good that we didn't. After all the riots that Paris dealt with over the summer, they cancelled all their big New Year's plans, so there were no fireworks at all - and none over the Eiffel tower, the usual big TV event of the night.

We don't have television, so we didn't enjoy the US celebrations - no Times Square or Dick Clark.

No Dinner For One. If you haven't lived in Germany since 1963, then you won't have a clue what I'm talking about, but, it is a very unique German phenomenon.

Dinner For One is a 15 minute comedy that two British actors did on stage in the early 1960's. A German television producer filmed it for television. Since then, it has become the most broadcasted television show of all time (worldwide) though it's NEVER been aired in either the U.S. or Britain. It is played, in Germany, every New Year's Eve - usually every hour and on every television station. It is entirely in British English, of course, but after years, most Germans have it pretty well memorized. People here have Dinner For One theme parties serving the same alcoholic drinks and drinking them with the actors. It is pretty much unavoidable on German stations this night and it is very funny. With only two actors, the butler goes around the dinner table during the "dinner party" acting as each guest for the senile Miss Sophie, speaking as the long deceased friend would speak and drinking their toast for them with each coarse. So, he is progressively getting more and more drunk and getting very silly.

We were too busy talking to watch t.v. this New Year's, but the "boys" (the grown men transformed into boys the instant they saw the little paper covered popping fireworks and matches) made the evening very festive with the endless light displays.

Fireworks are widely loved here with many BIG varieties available that have long been outlawed in the states, so just looking out the window over our flat farmland is a major fireworks display.

This was the best New Year's we've had in a long time. We spent it with friends and from 1930 until 0130 we talked, ate, and had a little wine. The kids played so well for so long that we barely knew they were there. The fireworks lasted hours -- not only our own display, but those all over the countryside.

Elise ran back and forth from the front yard to the kitchen bouncing as she ran with her ponytails waving around telling us all about the "popping fireworks" and hugging Rudy, the golden retriever, to comfort him. Arianna and Luci loved the sparklers. Tiara got to light one of the big ones.

The food was excellent with Olive Garden's Spinach dip, and trays of meats, cheeses, fruits, and veggies. I brought Rumaki and Artichoke Spinach dip. Both recipes are below.

Hello. We are back and partially unpacked. Life is great. The vacation was wonderful. We are rested and happy and LOVE Paris. Kirk wants to make it an annual trip. We'll definitely be back many times. People were fabulous, friendly, warm, and generous. No one wanted to come home and this morning all I wanted to do was to go to the patisserie to find a nice warm baguette. German bread is not the same.

But, life goes on. I've checked my email and am diving headfirst into January events and playing catch up.

So... the house is calling me. The vacuum is lonely and needs to take a walk around my house. I'll catch up on blogging and posting photos in the next couple days.

This morning we had to leave Paris and as crazy as it sounds, it was like leaving behind a new friend. No one was happy.

I got up especially early, got myself together, and walked to the Monoprix for my last time to get my breakfast there. I lingered just a little extra trying to imprint my memory with some of the sights there... the cheese, the candies, the people. I walked over to the clothing department and looked around at the hats and scarves. There were berets in every color and a lot of different styles of scarves and stoles made of rabbit and dyed in colors like pink and green. I bought a beret for Tiara and a black rabbit change purse for myself - our little souvenirs from Paris. I bought extra cheese to take home, some hard candies to try, the juice that Kirk liked, and some chocolate. Then I went to the Patisserie for a couple baguettes and some chocolate biscuits. I wanted to get the almond cake that they'd prepared, but it was very expensive and I only had my change with me.

Packing and checking out went fairly quickly. I was worried because we hadn't seen tiger or lion - Luci's favorite stuffed toys in since the room was cleaned the day before, so once everyone was in the car and ready to go, I ran back up to the hotel to ask them if they might be in the laundry. I ended up talking to the manager of the cleaning staff who kindly took down my name and number just in case they turned up. (They ended up turning up when I unpacked the dirty laundry suitcase. Lion was wrapped in an dress and tiger had been hiding inside a hotel pillowcase.)


Getting out of Paris was easier that getting into it, but still scary. The wide laneless roads with traffic going every direction at once made me grip the handle on the door tighter than normal. I tried to distract myself with inviting Patisseries and Chocolatiers and other shops, but the traffic there really is a bit scary.

Soon we were on the highway heading towards a small village that I wanted to see. We got off the A2 and drove through the Foret de Compiegne towards Pierrefonds. The Foret was amazingly well marked with large white signs bearing spokes at the tops pointing in all directions with the names of nearby villages and the distances away on them. We saw very few people out in the cold, but several riders on horses sped by through the forest. The trees were tall and mostly bare, the roads very straight, and every once in a while a beautiful old house would just appear out of nowhere. They had wooden shutters and many had other little buildings near them looking almost like a servants or guest quarters would look. One home even had a little lake in front of it that would be really nice in the summer.

The villages that we passed through were very small and quaint. The stone houses were all varying shades of taupe giving the towns little color with the grey of the sky and the street. Still, they were inviting. I wanted so much to park and walk along the narrow streets and look at the little gardens and tiny little houses. The homes are so tall where I live that the short stone buildings in these towns seemed like doll houses all clumped together.

Pierrefonds is a small town, but it is known for it's Chateau - just one of many sprinkled throughout France. It isn't something that you'd ever run into - you really have to look for this place, but I'm glad we did. The Chateau de Perrefoonds was constructed on the hill in the 14th C, but was a ruin by the 18th C, so what we saw was relatively new. Napoleon I bought the Chateau for less than 3000 francs and Napoleon III commissioned the architect, Viollet-le-Duc (he also did restoration work on the Notre Dame in Paris) to restore it. It was completed in 1884. The exterior is quite medieval, but beautiful and much larger than I'd imagined. It had a moat as well, though no water in it when we went, just a very daunting moss covered drawbridge.

We parked on the narrow street just below the castle and walked up and around it. It was so cold we were all shivering and fairly miserable, so it was frustrating when we reached the top and it was closed for tours that day. Thankfully we found the quick way back down and were on the road again towards Compiegne.

The details on the castle were fun to look for. A gargoyle sticking his head out from the middle of a tall wall acted as a downspout allowing water to drip down leaving a trail of green moss growing on the wall there. Other carvings and statues set into the otherwise smooth walls added beauty without being garish. It almost seemed like an Advent calendar, seeing a new little carving each time you rounded a bend or came upon a new wall.

Thin slits from the bottom to the top of the fortress and even in the gates allowed arrows to go out, but not come in. A "young" castle, it was clean and white in comparison with many others I've seen.

This morning I finally got smart. When we packed for this trip I brought along a cutting board, two knives, plastic utensils, paper plates, and napkins. When walking around I'd looked for a grocery store, and I did ask once, but the person who "helped" me obviously didn't know the area and just pointed down a long street.

This morning, on a quest to find a delicious French breakfast at a fraction of the room service price, I got up early and ventured out while the rest of the family got themselves together. The man at the front desk mentioned the Monoprix. I've walked by the Monoprix occupying the entire bottom floor of a tall building just across from our hotel on the corner, I've peered into the windows and seen the clothing and accessories, and I've seen it from our hotel window with its red, brightly lit signs every night we've been here. You can't even step outside without noticing it. But, I thought it was a clothing store. It is, and a little more. I walked over and, tucked in the back, far out of sight from the windows, is a wonderful little grocery. The produce section was beautiful like something out of a BHH photograph. It was run like the German grocery stores where you weigh your produce there and it prints out a little sticker with the price. I bought a few Spanish clementines and a couple apples. A narrow refrigerator near the produce had unusual soup bases - one was carrot and celery. I never saw a deli section, but the meat section was interesting. There was an entire area for Lapin (rabbit),another for Canard, Poulet, Agneu, and then an impressive assortment of Foir Gras (goose liver pate). It surprised me how big the rabbits were. Of course, I had to browse the candy and cookie aisle. It all looked good. The myriad of hard candies in all different shapes, sizes, and flavors looked as beautiful as they were tasty. I got a small assortment to try at home. There were a lot of British teas and snacks as well as some brands that I've seen in the German stores. I ended up leaving with the fruit, a loaf of fresh baked bread, smoked salmon, orange juice, babybells (cheese), a very nice Camenbert, and some French Emmentaler. Choosing a cheese there is difficult. I do not know brie enough to properly choose from 30 different kinds. And those are the kinds of options that present themselves there. A small area at the end sold the high end cheeses - pieces probably 1/4 pound for 15 Euros (~$19). I chose a Camenbert that ended up being remarkably delicious - it only cost 2E! Oh! I could live on baguettes and cheese forever!

On the way back to the hotel I stopped at the Patisserie to pick up a baguette and a couple chocolate biscuits for the girls. The food was amazing. Both Kirk and Tiara LOVED my cheese choices. Next time we go to Paris, I'll buy breakfast that way every day. (NOTE: When travelling to France, bring a bread knife - they come in handy.)

Our plan was to go to the Sacre Coeur, walk around the Montmartre area, see a local outdoor market, then go on the Batobus (boat) again and revisit the Orsay. We made it to the church.

The metro was interesting. We walked to the Miromesnil, then took the #13 line to the Place de Clichy , then switched to the #2 line and took it to Anvers. One of the stops had a large shopping area with produce, scarves, sweaters, and purses. As we got closer to Montmarte, the stops had more interesting pieces of the art nouveau past - Liege had interesting white iron booths and chairs in interesting shapes and configurations. It was fun to look out the window as we stopped at each place. The streets at Anvers were crowded with people. The area seemed a bit tackier that those we'd been in before, but a little more lived in. The souvenier shops had berets and jaunty little caps in front in addition to the normal Eiffel tower stuff. Women of all types swarmed over piles of fabric on bolts in one store and messy piles of clothing in a couple of others.

As soon as we got to the end of the street, the Sacre Coeur de Montmartre Basilique appeared sitting high on the hill, the elegant white structure a striking contrast to the dark Notre Dame we saw the day before. At the bottom of the hill in front of us a nice carousel ran. It wasn't too crowded to move, but there were quite a few people there. Instead of tacky plastic keychains, men tried to sell those woven embroidery thread bracelets that Tiara could make herself in 5 minutes. They would ask, "Where are you from?" My answer was always, "Not shopping." That was a bit curt, but it worked and I didn't feel like chatting with pushy salesmen.

A strange gondola style lift system called the funiculaire usually helps people from the bottom of the hill to the top, but it was out of order this day, so we made our way up the stairs. Some stairs went straight up the center. Two other sets went up the sides zig-zagging around the garden areas. I was glad that the lift wasn't working. If we'd taken it, we would have missed the beautiful harp playing by the old gentleman midway up the stairs, and we probably wouldn't have noticed the young man doing tricks with the Chinese yo-yo.

The view, I'm sure, rivals other city views on a clear day. This wasn't a clear day. It was colder than previous, very hazy, and misting progressively harder as the minutes ticked by. There was really no view - and nothing pretty.

The church itself is beautiful both inside and out. Inside we stood under a large painted dome and looked on at the front where the nuns sang angelically under a smaller dome area covered with a gorgeous mosaic. I snuck one flashless photo before being reprimanded by a very stern woman working there.

From the church, we walked around towards the back excited to see the Montmartre area. The shops looked interesting. Sidewalk artists carried around their large wooden clipboards offering to sketch a picture. One woman sat on the sidewalk while an artist worked on her face. The shops were squished together on the narrow little street.

Tiara hadn't been feeling well by the time we'd gotten to the top of the hill and she was feeling progressively worse. Thinking that some water and a rest would do her good, we quickly tucked into the first spot we saw to eat. The place was tiny and old with heavy dark wood tables and chairs. We didn't see any kitchen. The waiter just walked 4 feet over to the tiny little bar and placed our order to the man standing behind it with the backdrop of bottles. It seemed like a place that could have been there for 100 years or more serving the locals their daily ale. Most of the people in there looked like locals, but I did hear a Scottish couple at a table nearby talking. We ordered water and cappuccinos. The man brought a little basket of croissants and other breads to the table and at the end we paid only for the breads that we ate. Tiara spent most of the time downstairs hoping she wouldn't throw up. The smoke wasn't as heavy as we've encountered in some places, but it had little place to escape and the smell wasn't helping anyone.

Realizing that we needed to get back to the hotel, we walked back to the front of the church and waited at a little train stop conveniently located right next to a green plastic bag hanging from a flimsy metal rack. Tiara appreciated the bag. Poor girl. She handles herself so well. The train took us on a little tour as we went down the hill, the driver speaking French, English, and Italian. We passed a Roman church - the oldest in Paris, and a small vineyard only the size of a small city block where, according to the driver, the most expensive bottles of wine in the world are produced. Each bottle costs 1500 Euros, but you also get a painting with it! Right across from the vineyard is Paris' oldest cabaret - The Lapin Agile.

The train let us off at Pigalle which is only one Metro stop away from Blanche where the Moulin Rouge area is, so the businesses around Pigalle are unique. We stopped right in front of the Folies Pigalle and just two blocks over from the Sexodrome where Kirk had to pose for this photo.

We waited for the Metro on the tall benches in the tunnel. The three little ones enjoyed the height. Tiara was still feeling horrible. When we came up out of the tunnel near our hotel we saw a Starbucks we hadn't seen before and the rest of my afternoon was set. We walked back to the hotel. Kirk, Tiara, and the little ones rested and watched cartoons. They were all tired and needed a break. I walked to Starbucks looking forward to the quiet time stopping at a couple high priced shops on the way there. One had beautiful women's clothing that mixed unusual colors and textures together. The proprietor was friendly and talked to me for about 10 minutes asking where I was from. Starbucks was nice - the same as it would be anywhere else, but a welcome time to sit with a hot drink, relax, scribble some notes while taking in the atmosphere and doing a little people watching. I'd also brought with me the little bag of chocolates that I'd purchased at Galler a few days prior. Here, I could enjoy them in quiet. All were dark chocolate. My favorites were the pistachio marzipan and the framboise. The most unique was the Earl Grey - my favorite tea and a curious flavor in chocolate. I'm still not really sure if I liked it or not. It was just different. I walked back to the hotel stopping in only one shop in the way - a beautiful clothing store with a British line, but I did not stay long. This is where I met the only grumpy Parisian on our trip and he quickly asked that I not touch the clothing. Since I find it insane to purchase clothing without touching it, I quickly left without a word.














Since that was our last night at the hotel, we dressed up a little bit and went to the Petite Carte again for dinner. We had the same waiter, but tonight we sat at a large table in the center of the room. After just a few minutes we noticed the French colonel that we'd met there a few nights before sitting at the very same table he'd sat at the first night we'd met him. We waved and he smiled. Luci immediately asked for paper so she could make him a picture which she drew, signed her name, then jumped out of her chair and walked it over to him stopping to talk to him for a minute. He seemed very happy. We ordered - soups and salads came for the others for the first course. I had clam quiche with a salad. For the main course, we all had veal. The little ones had it breaded with fries. Us older three had it rolled up with stuffing, a wonderful sauce, and a bed of angel hair pasta. I could have eaten two - they were so good. After our main course, cheese plates with salads were brought out for all, and then we had dessert. The waiter was surprised when Kirk and Tiara ordered ice cream with the little ones. "But ice cream is for children." They didn't care. It was so good the time before. Tiara put a small scoop of vanilla in her coke. The young waiter stopped, turned his head to the side and looked, then asked if that was ice cream. She smiled and said, "yes, it's a coke float!." He'd never seen that before and from his curious expression, I'm sure he tried one before the day was out. I was the adult and had a citrus mousse of some sort that was delicious. Before our meal had ended the colonel left. I saw him show Luci's picture to the cashier and motion to our table. I thought he was up to something. When our bill came our waiter explained that he had paid for the children. The cashier would not give me any information or way to thank him, but when we got up to the room, I made a card with stationary I'd brought, the girls drew pictures, and I wrote a note and took it down to her. She said she'd give it to him. He eats there every night and always sits at the same table. May be we'll see him next time. He was so kind.

That was our last night and truly, except for the cranky man in the clothing store who didn't want his clothing touched, every person at every place that we went on every day of our trip was not only courteous, but kind and generous. People got up from their seats on the Metro to let Elise and I sit. People smiled and said Joyeaux Noel or talked to us a little if they spoke English. People smiled and talked to the girls a lot. They were warm and wonderful - everyone. I never once felt unwanted there. We never felt like outsiders. We didn't even feel conspicuous with all the girls. People just smiled. Their eyes twinkled. It was genuine.

We packed that night sadly. No one wanted to leave the next day.