After a few long days of hoofing it around Paris, we took Sunday to catch up on some good ol’fashioned nothing.
It consisted of instant coffee, croissants, and the entire season of Broadchurch. Really well-done show, albeit somber. But it starred David Tennant, so we pressed on.
Yesterday we wandered around Montmarte a little more, making stops at Kooka Boora for coffee, and a few vintage thrifts along the way.
Kooka Boora was excellent- very friendly staff, incredible espresso, and some of the best banana bread I’ve ever had. We settled out front in their bright blue chairs with a nice view of Sacre Cœur in the distance. The barista/waitress apologized profusely for “breaking the heart” in the latte art on my latte, which left us smiling. It’s always nice to encounter people here who don’t treat you any different when you butcher their language…
I picked up a bag of coffee to bring back to the states, and we did some more meandering. The first stop was a quaint hole-in-the-wall place that just took down the “back in 2 minutes” sign from the door as we approached. The next shop was not as…quaint. Spencer and I later described the experience to ourselves as encountering the feminist book store owners from Portlandia. Lets just say it involved an excessive amount of sighing, eye rolling, staring,silent treatment, and the word “tourists”. That experience left us laughing too, as the owners were two American women. It was a good story, and at least I got a few good finds!
We trekked back up our apartment stairs and took a little power nap before dinner. Our host had sent us a google map with restaurants, grocery stores, cafes, etc. that he recommended in the area around the apartment. We chose one called Nansouty, and walked there for an early dinner (which in Paris, is 8pm).
Our waiter was very kind- after we made some feeble attempts at French, he, in feeble English, told us he would do his best to explain things for us. He placed the hand-written chalkboard menu on our table and we introduced ourselves. This took him aback a little, but he shook our hands and seemed pleased to meet us. After walking us through the menu, we placed our order and were not disappointed. A wonderful Bordeaux, risotto, veal, lamb, fresh baked bread and rustic creme brûlée…while not out-of-this-world good, it was just what you’d hope for from a little French restaurant around the corner.
After bringing us our check, our waiter shook our hands and patted Spencer on the back. We echanged many merci beaucoup‘s and walked out smiling. Perfect end to a wonderful week.
Today we clean our apartment, and head out to the Arc de Triomphe. From there I’m on a mission to finally get some French Macarons. A little more shopping, then down to the Seine for a picnic at sunset before we finish up our packing. Our flight to Dublin leaves early tomorrow morning, so rather than cut it really close taking the Metro/RER or pay 60€ to take a taxi at 4am, we’ re going to the airport tonight and camping out. Should be
We are looking forward to a change of pace and to be out in the country for a little while. It feels like we’ve been gone for a month already, so it’s hard to wrap my mind around being gone another week! Definitely not complaining. This has been such dream.
Alright, enough procrastinating…off to clean up this place.