Paris Wrap-up

Some thoughts, 48 hours after returning from a week-plus vacation in Paris:

Standing on stone      We spent much time in museums and churches, and by the end of the day, our middle-aged legs were wrecked. We finally figured this was because of the ubiquitous stone and/or marble flooring (not to mention all the stone or cobblestone plazas) found in these places. Even stone is not as bad as marble, which was especially hell on the ligaments and tendons around the knees and ankles -- anything that cushions the weight of your body as it moves. We went through a bottle of ibuprofen in less than a week.

Let's skip dinner      There are hundreds and hundreds of brasseries and cafes, and they all have pretty much the same menu, full of thick sauces, fatty meats and greasy fried things. After three days of this, and also due to the energy-sapping marble, we found ourselves skipping dinner and crashing in the hotel room after 5:00. When we did venture out to dinner, we found that kitchens don't even open until 7:00 p.m., and we were often the first ones in the place to order.

The best meal we had was at the restuarant at the Musee d'Orsay, where the lunch menu included a positively light dish of white fish with almost no sauce. We could have tried harder to find alternative places to eat, but by the time we were hungry, we had only the energy to find the nearest joint. The disadvantage to the standard brasserie menu, its predictability, is also its advantage: we knew what we would find.

The friendly French      The stereotype of snooty French waiters seems to be a thing of the past. We went into cafes and brasseries in a variety of locations, from the touristy to the obscure. In some cases they even supplied us with English-language menus (even when we didn't ask for them, which says something about our French abilities). When we limped along in French while ordering, the waiters and waitresses were invariably amiable and good-humored about bailing us out without embarrassing us. In some cases they corrected our usage, but in a very diplomatic way. The staff of our hotel was similarly friendly and helpful.

I don't know if this turnaround from the classic French haughtiness is because of some campaign to stamp out surliness -- I hear there have been some -- or, possibly, they're simply being nicer to Americans in the wake of Sep. 11. (In his radio essay on the Parisian reaction to the events of Sep. 11, David Sedaris recounted several instances of French people uncharacteristically reaching out to him in sympathy. See this link; Sedaris' piece is "Act Four" of the Sep. 21 program of "This American Life.") Whatever the reason, we were relieved not to have to deal with anyone's surly attitude. People in San Francsico are surly enough.

What is it with the smoking?      One habit the French haven't changed is their incessant smoking. I know their reputation and I was prepared to tolerate it as much as possible, and for the first several days, we weren't inundated too much. But then one evening we had dinner at a brasserie on the Place de la Republique, and two young men near us smoked Marlboros throughout the second half of our meal. What ventilation there was in the place (it being late fall, all the windows were closed) made the smoke drift right past our table. Kind of made it hard to enjoy the dessert.

I don't have any hope that they'll change their habits, but can we say a word about ventilation, please? In America, even smoking areas are well-ventilated so that the smokers do not have to stew in their own juice; in France, everybody does. Even in the airport, where there was smoking only at one (the only) coffee bar, smoke filled the whole area because there was no ventilation to draw it off. This, coupled with a seemingly delight in overheating interiors (stores, airport terminals, museums -- they were all too warm), makes for a sometimes oppressive environment.

Miscellaneous advice

1. At the Metro ticket window, order "un carnet," a little pile of ten Metro tickets. Saves money and time, and also motivates you to take the Metro instead of walking someplace. You'll walk enough, believe me.
2. Except for summer, the Metro is packed at rush hour, so try to avoid it 4:30-6:00 p.m.
3. If you must walk from the Musee d'Orsay to the Eiffel Tower, as we did, take the left (south) bank of the river. If you've just spent several hours in the museum, walking the right bank will exhaust you. As it did us.
4. Traveller's checks are for the birds. Just use your ATM card as you would in the U.S. No ATM fees, and a better exchange rate than at any currency exchange office.
5. Surrender to jet lag. Naps are good.