l'Isle Saint-Louis

One of the odd things about Paris - at least in this neighborhood - it is practically impossible to find somewhere to buy coffee "to go". By this I mean coffee in a paper cup with plastic lid. You know, like you get from Starbucks. Don't get me wrong, the coffee in Paris is great, as good or better as anywhere in the world. You can get great coffee or espresso drinks on practically every street corner, but just try and walk out of a cafe with a tall cup of coffee in your hand. I don't get it.

We walk to the the l'Isle Saint-Louis, stopping for a coffee at cafe near the hotel.By the way - one cafe creme, one capuccino cost 10.30 Euros, which at current exchange rates, comes up to $16.70 at a corner cafe. Plus tip. Starbuck's got nothing on these guys. Thank you George W. Bush, for converting the dollar into a 3rd world currency in seven short years.

Exploring the Isle was a pleasure. It was a part of Paris we had overlooked on previous trips. Quaint shops and restaurants, interesting apartments, and a seemingly slower pace with lighter crowds. We came across several fashion photo shoots qround the isle. The reduced traffic and great backgrounds must make it a preferred location.

We stop at a charming little shop "La Petite Scierie" specializing in duck delicacies. The proprietor - Paul Duoys - prepares the foie gras himself from his 20 acre farm. He was a delight. We buy a couple of jars of preserved foie gras, which Paul assures us we can bring anywhere into the US - except Chicago. We do not know whether we will bring it home or eat it here.

As we are taking this picture outside of the shop, a French woman walks by and exclaims sarcastically "Sacre Bleu! Americans buying foie gras! Heresy!" She then laughingly takes a picture of the foie gras eating Americans to preserve for posterity. Personally, I think the whole foie gras "PC" thing is complete rubbish. It is one thing for a vegan to criticize foie gras, but anyone who eats any industrial meat or dairy product like beef, pork, chicken or eggs, has absolutely nothing to say about foie gras as far as I am concerned.

We enjoy a late lunch at Brasserie de l'Ile St-Louis, an eatery dating back to 1870...

I have the daily special "Veal Provence"...

Sigrid has pate'... ...we share a Friesee' salad with lardon...

... and a bottle of George Dubceuf Cote-de-Brouilly. The man in the blue sweatshirt strikes up a conversation with us. We discuss US and French politics, Obama, Sarkosy, and the 35 hour work week. His name is Vincent, has lived in Paris most of his life, is building a business in China, and gave us some more dining advice for Paris.

We don't mind the light rain as we enjoy some of the sights on the walk back to the hotel.

I on't know what this guy was fishing for, but he had four lines in the Seine.

Gallery Kevorkian? We didn't go in.

The street where we live - Rue des Saint Des Peres.

Flea Market and Food

Window shopping on the left bank.

Sunday, and most of the galleries and shops in our neighborhood are closed. We do a little window shopping, and head for the Museum d'Orsay, but decide the line is too long.

Instead, we visit the Paris Flea Market, and...

Sigrid finds some things that she likes.

There is little risk of a bad meal in Paris, but we still decided to dine at the same Brasserie we enjoyed the night before.There were too many tasty menu items to try at...

Le Café des Beaux Arts.

Tonight I had the...

Escargot

...and Duck Confit.

As we approach the summer solstice, the days continue to lengthen.

This was shot around 10 PM on Rue De Bac on the leisurely walk back to the hotel.

Americans in Paris

This marker on the grounds of Villa Saint Albergati is a reminder of when the main road ran by the villa, then a monastery.

We get to bed late, but awake early for last minute packing and to get on the road to the airport. Despite one of us being somewhat impaired by the previous night's activities, we manage to get ourselves loaded, in the car, and ready to go. While we are getting ready, each of the residents of Villa Wes & Susan wanders down the stairs to bid us adieu with a goodbye hug. I am not sure why they came down one at a time. I suspect that each was embarased to let the others know they will miss us. I know we will miss them. We were sorry to leave, but Paris awaits.

We manage to get to the Avignon airport early, despite a few wrong turns along the way.

Avignon and Palais des Papes from the window of the turboprop ATR 72 shortly after takeoff.

After the short flight and a taxi ride, we arrive in... Paris.

We enjoy a brief Rest and Recovery period in our 6th Arrondisement Hotel, then explore the neighborhood; and settle on the Beaux Arts Cafe for dinner.

The grilled lamb chops with fresh green beans was perfectly prepared and delicious.

Earlier in the day, as we landed at Orley, I thought I saw Air Force One on the tarmac. I was not quick enough to snap a picture as we taxied by, but learned later that it was indeed Air Force One. To our shock and dismay, we soon discovered we were not the only Americans in Paris:

"... the Americans and the French have had a privileged relationship for two centuries now,'' Sarkozy said. "When the United States of America was born, France made a choice. It was not a European choice, because we chose to side with the Americans of the United States of America, as opposed to Britain at the time. And in two world wars we've been together. We share the same values. "It is a privileged relationship, but it's not privileged since I came to be elected,'' said Sarkozy, sidestepping the fact that indeed the chill has thawed since Jacques Chirac, an outspoken opponent of the war in Iraq, left. "It's been privileged for two centuries now. "You can't neglect that. Now, through this -- throughout that, we have had ups and downs -- hiccups -- because two peoples -- I'm talking about the French and the American peoples -- that actually resemble one another. "We express our feelings,'' Sarkozy said. "The American people can be heard, and likewise for the French people. We have to be careful about this. We have to be mindful of this when we talk to one another in our relations."

Oddly enough, I miss Jacques Chirac. Perhaps because when all was said and done, he was right and Bush was wrong about Iraq.

Pass those French Fries er... I mean pomme frittes.

Carpentras - New Arrivals - The Last Supper

Silk flowers at the Carpentras Market

Late morning Wes, Sigrid and I head into Carpentras while the rest of the crew continue to recover from their over indulgence of the previous evening. Carpentras is the Rodney Dangerfield of Provence - it gets no respect. Wes' guide (Cadogan?) was less than complimentary about the town itself, calling it "odd" and "ugly", but suggested visitors check out the Friday morning market, which is one of the largest in the area.

Some scenes from the market:

Some beautiful produce, including heirlooms, radishes and asparagus.

A local admires Wes' soap selection technique.

A wide selection of fabrics on display.

Olives - yum.

A nap at the pool after lunch with Dora and the girls, and...

...we greet new arrivals Bruce and Robin. Bruce was a room-mate with Wes at Northwestern University. Now retired, he is working diligently on checking off the number three item on his bucket list.

To welcome the new guest and note our last meal in Provence, we
... dine in the local town of Althens-des-Paluds at a fine restaurant whose name I have managed to forget.

The food, on the other hand, was unforgettable:





Another extraordinary meal [descriptions will be updated later]. However I must report that Carolin, Molly and GeeGee violated the long-standing tradition of splitting costs at these meals, snuck behind our back, and paid for dinner. It was a very nice gesture and we were very grateful. We owe you all one, and will insist on repaying the favor., hopefully sooner rather than later.

Nîmes

After a leisurely morning by the pool, we caravan to Nîmes with the seven of us riding in two cars. Carolin and Wes drove, Sigrid and I rode with Wes and Susan, I navigated. The navigational errors were hardly noticed and not worth mentioning.

Nîmes is the site of one the best preserved Roman Arena's in France, and is still in use today, including bullfights every Sunday. After watching me stitch together a panorama of the Arena in Arles, GeeGee came up with a better solution to photographing the Nimes arena -

"Just take a picture of this postcard"

We tour the Arena and explore the town:

Molly insisted I take this picture. She has a thing for guys in diapers.

Molly at the Roman Temple

Susan and GeeGee in another temple.

The Arena at night.

Then dinner at Restaurant l'Enclose de la Fontaine where we were seated outside in the garden under a tree, where we were soon joined by...

...this uninvited guest, who took a particular liking for Carolin and a leisurely stroll across the table.

We all ordered the prix fixe dinner, which started with...

Ravioles frites farcies a la chair de crabe

For the entree I selected the...

Supreme de pintade aux peches, oignons confits

...thinking I was getting duck, but was informed by the waiter that it was guinea fowl. It was good, but I was out-ordered by those at the table who chose the...

Dos de cabillaud roti sur sa brandade de morue,
Jus de viade a la tapenade verte.

It was unbelievable. We finished with...

Poire rotie au caramel de morie for dessert.

I honor the chef with a traditional Midwestern gesture of appreciation - unbuttoning my slacks, loosening my belt and extending my belly to the edge of the table.

The Real Housewives de l'Orange

[Editors Note: This is a guest post from The Real Housewives de l'Orange - Molly, Carolin,Susan, GeeGee - pictured above sampling a few wines from Chateneuf-du-Pape. This photo was taken with Geegee's camera during their wine tasting and shopping adventures in and around Orange, while Sigrid and I were exploring Avignon. I offered them a guest post on the blog, but until they get their act together on which pictures to include, this post will have to serve as a placeholder. ]