Veteran's Day in Paris

By Jim Carroll - We took off from Burlington International Airport on Thursday night and made it to Charles de Gaulle airport around 10am local time. Getting on the RER was no big deal once I remembered where to go for tickets. Bought a few carnets of metro tickets as well so that we were set for the next few days. We snagged a bad snack at the station and got on the train.

Notre Dame Gargoyle (photo by Jim Carroll)

Our train car was full by the time we hit the Luxembourg station and we had to nearly kill some French people to get off the train. No one would move out of the way. Gigi got off and walked away to put her bag down as the warning horn sounded. I ended up yelling at her to put her body in the door so I could pull the luggage off the train. It had to be amusing to someone...

I figured out where we were and suggested a cross street to put us in the middle of the road where our hotel was located, but Gigi said something about starting at the top of the road instead. So, of course, I picked the wrong direction on St. Michel and walked away from everything. By the time I realized it, we had walked to another Metro stop. Had to turn around and go back to the cross street I wanted and-Bingo!-the hotel was thirty meters from the corner.

We got settled in a tiny Comfort Inn on rue Gay-Lussac, a classic old French hotel with tiny lift and equally small rooms. The “Double and two Twins” room meant that they had added a futon in a room that normally had a double bed and a twin bed. It worked. It had a TV and a phone and a toilet. (Note to self: bring a hair dryer next time. The built-in one would work on my hair, but not a girl's. Another Note to self: bring a travel iron. Tiny hotels don't offer them due to fire code. If you want to wait a day, the pressing shop next door will do it, but you can't go to dinner that night with wrinkle-free clothes.)

Seventh Arrondisement (photo by Jim Carroll)

The women settled in for a nap. I went in search of a men's shop. Being the rocket scientist that I am, I had sent out my navy blazer to be dry cleaned before the trip. I also had an old blazer that doesn't fit cleaned so I could give it away. When packing for the trip, I had reached into the closet and grabbed the blazer that was in plastic, overlooking the 50/50 chance of getting the wrong one!

The concierge sent me down St. Michel near the Sorbonne to find shops. After striking out on a bunch of crap suits for $49 complete, I found a nice store that had a good selection of Hugo Boss upscale suits and jackets. I picked out what I wanted and was all set. The guy said the sleeves were too long, but that he couldn't do anything for me that day. However, if I brought it back on Saturday morning, he'd do the adjustments before the day was over so I could be well dressed for Saturday. Very cool. His English was better than my French, but I kept pushing myself to do as much as possible in his language. He has a cousin in Poughkeepsie and may look me up next summer.

Armed with a new “vest de costume”, I walked home and crashed with the family for a couple of hours. We took the Metro to the stop in front of the Moulin Rouge for dinner and the show. I considered getting off at Pigale, but thought about being with the girls. We had wanted to see Sacré Coeur, but the nap took precedent.

They offer three prix fixe menus or a la carte. The show has a bar minimum and then the menu pricing. Funky split deal to make it work. Prices were the same as they quoted online, just strangely presented. I didn't care; it meant half a bottle of champagne and half a bottle of wine for each of us. Dinner was pretty good. Wine was acceptable. Show was really cool.

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