I am comfortable with big cities, confident with direction and navigation, and at home in large crowds. This confidence, however, often leads to a ballooned self-reliance. Taking the RER with 75 pounds of luggage on a three-transfer journey to my apartment would have been fine in a younger city, with a newer metro system incorporating certain modern standards of convenience, such as elevators and escalators. All told, I hefted my 50-pound suitcase up and down fifteen flights of stairs. Then, once arrived at my destination station of Chenin Vert, I dragged it several blocks the wrong direction before realizing my mistake. This is when it started to pluie. I arrived at my studio wet with a mixture of sweat and rain, and almost cried out of gratitude when I saw that it has an elevator.
My studio is adorable. At 215 square feet, it has a kitchen, a washing machine, an actual bathroom with a real toilet and shower (the studio my husband and I rented three years ago had barely operable toyish versions of both), and a futon bed. It's in a beautiful neighborhood full of bars and restaurants (mais bien sûr, c'est Paris), and near many metro stations.
My school, the Paris American Academy, is across the Seine, high up in the Latin Quarter, near the Luxembourg Gardens. Our first class was held in a room in which Benjamin Franklin once studied. Our second class was held in a room that, though in a newer and much less beautiful building, sits directly above the corner of the catacombs in which a monk was once found dead, eleven years after he'd descended into the ground to find a bottle of wine.
|Paris American Academy|
|A marvelous wine tasting organized by the school|
Thus far, I've not traversed far out of those respective neighborhoods, but last night I joined the masses at L'Hotel de Ville to watch the France-Germany World Cup game. The streets of le Marais were as festive as those of Manhattan Beach on the 4th of July - my favorite day of the Los Angeles summer. The mass revelry along these ancient cobblestone streets eased my slight homesickness caused by missing my beloved American holiday.
As I make my way through my list of must-have eats and drinks, I've thus far enjoyed some tartare de boeuf, l'escargot, soupe l'oignon, and much cheese, wine, and Ricard.
|L'Escargot at Le Bistrot de Vosges - Délicieux! C'est fini.|
|My brown-bag lunch - a sandwich on a freshly baked roll with camembert, coppa, and a quince jam. Simple and so delicous.|