My girly weekend in Paris :-)

Since the beginning of the semester, my friends from Davidson and I had planned meeting up at some point during our time in Europe. Five of my closest friends from school are all in "the area". So, months ago my friends Alea, Kelsey, Suzanne and I planned a girly weekend in Paris. I know even as we age, women meet to talk inappropriately, eat cookies and paint each others nails (well, maybe not). At Davidson we make sure to get together as often as possible, and sometimes plan little get together we call lingerie parties (you can do what you want with that). Being abroad though means we haven't been in close contact for months and we desperately needed a reunion. But in PARIS? It doesn't really get much better then that!
This past Friday, the 16th of November, was they day and I took a day off work and left for Paris at 6 in the morning. I've found that leaving super early is a good idea because it's become a habit of mine to get lost and confused when I travel. But I swear this time it wasn't my fault! There was a transportation strikes in Paris so when I got to the airport, it was impossible for me to actually get anywhere. The plan was to stay at an apartment my two aunts rent out, which is in a really lovely part of the city. But I had no way of getting there! I was told there was a bus service working but since that was the only transportation available, the line was complete madness. I stood there about 15 minutes, not having moved an inch, when I realized I was wasting my day (despite leaving early - best laid plans and all that). The woman behind was English so I asked if she wanted to share a cab and thank God she said yes because it turns out I would have been at the airport for hours before ever meeting up with my friends. I accompanied her to the Arc de Triumph where I figured I could find my way to the apartment from there. Why did I think that was a good idea? I know I get lost easily and I had already spent 20 euro getting to the city center and the extra 10 would have been worth it because as I walked I got further and further away from where I needed to be.
It was FREEZING. I mean, the weather isn't all lovely and sunny in London, but the cold in Paris was much, much different. And it was windy. And I left my gloves on the plane. I wandered around aimlessly (and probably in circles) for a while until I found a metro. I was really happy at this point, thinking I did a damn good job of getting there. But sadly, I counted my chickens too early because the line I needed? Closed. And of course I found this out after sitting in the damp and smelly metro station for an hour listening to that stupid song they play in their stations over and over again (if you've been to Paris you know that annoying noise they play before some French person talks over the loudspeaker). Then I tried to walk above ground, figuring it would be a long walk but that it didn't matter. But I hadn't brought a map with me and in the end took a cab to the apartment for far more than I would have paid otherwise, and then gave the driver a ridiculous tip because I was so thankful I was finally there and out of the cold (phew!). The apartment was perfect! I've never been though my aunts have owned it for years. It's small and cozy and quiet. So while I waited for Alea (who is studying in Paris) and Kelsey (Florence) I snuggled up on the couch with some tea and a trashy magazine. And as soon as they arrived we screamed and hugged and just talked and talked and talked. It was so amazing to see them, and being in Paris on top of all that was kind of unreal.
The three of us went to dinner that night at this adorable hole-in-the-wall restaurant that Kelsey knows from having lived here. It's one of the few surviving family run restaurants in all of Paris, cozy with homemade food and waiters who actually wanted to be there! A woman played Spanish guitar and sang in this beautiful, guttural voice serenaded us all night. The girls at the table kept making fun of me because I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I think by the end of the night though we all had crushes on her. She wasn't beautiful - she was missing some teeth, actually - but she sang with such emotion and passion it was hard not to get wrapped up in it.
And speaking of crushes - our waiter was AMAZING. Not only did he give us free wine and serve us the most delicious food, but he called us "darlings" and "beautifuls". My personal favorite though, was when he asked what the exact color of my coat was. "Lavender", I said. "Oh! Lavahnder! You are mah leeeteel lavander lay-deee!" I think that's probably the greatest term of endearment of all time? From now on, please call me Little Lavender Lady, thank you.
Then came dessert... Now, I don't want to get graphic, and it's probably only funny to the people who were there that night... but the cobbler, oh, man. We were eating with two friends of Kelsey's from Florence, and one of the girls (I wont mention her name to protect the innocent) had gotten apple and berry cobbler. I wont write out her whole quote (because it was so funny at the time I wrote it on my napkin and I do in fact have it), but it started like this, "Oh my God, I don't think I've ever been turned on by something that's not a person before!" Classic.
After dinner, Alea, Kelsey and I went back to the apartment to meet Suzanne (she's also studying in London), who was the last to arrive. She was waiting in the foyer and the look on her face when we came in was priceless. We all got kind of choked up, hugging and crying and kissing each other because we were finally here! We'd been planning this trip for so long it was amazing that it had all worked out. And basically, the rest of the night was just us. You can't understand unless a) you're a girl and b) you've had incredibly close girlfriends - but it was just such a comforting feeling to be together and cuddling on the couch and catching each other up on the past few months of our lives.
A brief word on my friends: I'm not really a fan of "girls". Yeah, I study gender and I love being a woman, but I've had too many experiences of snooty girls who are confusing and gossipy and bitchy. I've had a few close girlfriends in my life (who are still my best friends today), but I've never had a group of them before. This semester we all got tested in our personal lives and we were all there to pick each other up and be there for each other. You know who your real friends are when you're a mess on the floor and can talk about the same things over and over again and are absolutely no fun to be around but they still come over to laugh with you. So nowyou can understand my excitement at seeing them together again...
Okay, on with the story: we spooned. Yup, it was a chain of spooning in a queen size bed and we all slept like babies. It was pretty great ;-) Refreshed the next morning we walked around Paris in the unbelievable weather. We started off at the Rodin Museum where I got to see my favorite statue of all time (and they let me stand there for 15 minutes while I stared like a kid in a candy store). And then we were off to the Eiffel Tower! This will be the third time in three months I've seen it and it still just gets me every time. We took lots of funny pictures in front of the tower (which I can put up once Suzanne gives me her photos) then went to a cozy little French cafe where we talked some more and took more funny photos. We stopped by a market to buy lychee nuts. We walked across the Seine. We took more funny photos, walked past the Arc de Triumph, went into Louis Vuitton to laugh at prices we will never be able to afford. And we bought macaroons, which were the most amazing things (next to the cobbler, of course) ever (I realize now that's less impressive to say because I've been saying that a lot, but this time it's true!) I mean, come on, I had a rose flavored macaroon in a fancy French restaurant. Kelsey showed us all her favorite haunts (the macaroon place being her all time favorite) from when she was here over the summer, and Alea, who's been here now for two months, showed us hers. Paris is amazing, but to be perfectly honest it really took a backseat to the weekend itself. We ended the day cooking dinner and snuggling (again) on the couch and watching a movie, but not really paying attention.
Sadly, Kelsey left early the next morning and Suzanne and I had to catch our flight back to London in the evening. We walked around some more went into Notre Dame, walked past the Louvre, and ate delicious crepes from a stand on the street. We worried about getting back to the airport though, because the strike was still in full swing. Our endevour to the airport was really awful. At the time it wasn't, but I promised I would tell this story with some form of lightheartedness to take some of the sting away...
Okay. Suzanne and I decided to take a working metro line as far north as we could, to the station Gare de Nord then take a taxi from there so it would be less expensive. But we didn't realize that not only would everyone be having the same idea but people would be arriving by train and needing transportation to other places in Paris as well! We were running late and there was nothing we could do so we waited in a disgustingly long line in the cold for an hour to get a cab. Let me tell you, French cab drivers are insane, it's like they don't want the business! We tried waving them down and knocking on windows, and even when we got in line one only came along about every three minutes. You'd think they'd be taking advantage of the strike, but noooo! They just sat there eating their sandwiches, driving aimlessly and being oh-so-French. And as we waited Alea went to every person in line (as our flight was leaving in an hour and a half), asking in French where they were going (to see if we could share a car, and maybe jump the line?!). We couldn't find anyone for awhile, but at the last second a hugely tall German bloke asked if he could tag along as his plane was taking off in an hour. So he got in alongside Suzanne with his huge legs pressed awkwardly up against the passenger seat, sitting very quietly and politely. He was lovely, and I think even more lovely because he was so nervous about catching his flight he practically paid for the whole cab ride. Yeah for Germans!
So that's that. We were in such a rush I didn't get my tearful goodbye with Alea, but it's probably for the best because the weekend was so wonderful it had me thinking twice about staying in London. Luckily, Suzanne is right around the corner and her roommate from Davidson (and my nose piercing partner), Marina, is coming to visit tomorrow for Thanksgiving. We'll be doing it on Saturday because we actually have classes and work to go to, imagine that, but we'll be doing it right - lots of people and food and fun!
So Happy Thanksgiving! I am insanely jealous...