Déjà Vu

I was going through my photos today, trying to eliminate unnecessary pics to make room on my hard drive, and went all the way back to my first trip to Paris, in 2010. I came across this pic, which made me laugh.

I remember exactly when I took this photo. It was early on in my trip and I'd been out and about and gotten completely lost. I made my way back, in a very roundabout way, to the Aubry house and I distinctly remember passing this place and taking a photo because I thought, Boy there are a lot of attractive men there. Must remember to return, if I can find it again. I never was able to find it again on that trip.

Looking at it again now, I recognize it immediately as the café that's across the street from the one where I spend 3 days a week writing. I guess I made it back after all!

I love going through all my old photos and remembering how very foreign and unfamiliar each sight was. I felt lost all the time, in a nice way. Now I look at them and can pinpoint almost exactly almost each location, and a cascade of additional memories tumbles down after the originals, making my memories of being lost feel found, familiar.

Spotted From My Balcony

These two lovers are always hanging halfway out the window across the street.

This Is Why We Don't Need To Tip

Just in case you ever feel sorry for Parisian waiters... don't.

This sweet ride was parked across the street from a café I had coffee at a few weeks ago. My waiter, on his break, walked over to it and got a few things from inside, then walked back over to his post at the café. I guess that's what happens when you work on rue Saint-Honoré.

Pengas In Paris (Part II)

So, we were off to Antibes! We were almost as excited for the train ride as for the actual Mediterranean destination.

I imagine this is how a woman looks at you when she's in love with you.

And this is how a woman looks when she's in love with the world.

 

After a short few hours, the sea appeared beside us.

My friend Edouard, whom I met on the beach in Nice a few years ago, has always told me I can come visit him in Antibes (the town just near Nice) anytime. Since I met him, we've seen each other once each year (Nice, New York, and Paris), and it would be a great love story if he didn't have a half-Asian nuclear physicist girlfriend. Anyway, he's always fun to hang out with and I figured this year it was my turn to come to him and bring a friend! He picked us up from the train station and took us on a grand tour of Antibes, including past this lovely grand building where F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote "The Great Gatsby" (which was opening that weekend at the nearby Cannes Film Festival). Yes this photo was taken from a speeding car.

We got to Edouard's apartment (an erstwhile hotel) and he said with glee, "Let me show you why I decided to live in this apartment building." He led us out to the pool, which looks out to the Mediterranean. I think Kerri almost peed her pants.

Hilariously, Edouard apologized for the "bad view" from his balcony.

Nothing like some rosé on the terrasse to start the afternoon off right.

Kerri had another "moment."

It was so nice to escape the constant and enduring cold rain of Paris and breathe easily, wearing fewer layers, ready to chill out and enjoy the sea.

I know I'm all domestic now, cooking and everything, but when trying to help Edouard make a salad, I had quite a bit of trouble figuring out the salad spinner. At least I was dressed the part.

And you can guess which decimated eggs were the ones I peeled.

After lunch we went to the pier outside Edouard's apartment, which juts out into the sea. The sea was angry that day, my friends. And so was the wind. But we were not!

We were having a great time.

Then Edouard took us around Antibes, which is like a littler Nice. Très charmant.

We got ice cream (mine's rose and lavender!)

We saw some cool sculpture.

We were heroic against the backdrop of yachts.

Edouard took us to the city center and we dropped by the Absinthe Bar for some souvenirs. We went to the cave downstairs and did a taste test of both the green and the white, and Edouard promised us we'd come back later that night for the proper experience, after dinner.

Kerri very hesitantly tried hers.

It was a gorgeous cave of a bar, with a well that was something like a thousand years old.

And their bathroom was just this caged-off section of the room with a curtain to draw. Awkward!

We continued our wander around Antibes and the light was just beginning to get crazy beautiful.

For dinner Edouard chose a stupendous Italian cave in the center of town. It was a great choice and we, of course, treated him to thank him for his hospitality. We asked him what would be a good local dish to order, something people on the coast like to eat (but not seafood, because Kerri doesn't dig fish). He ordered Petit Farci, a SUPER DELICIOUS appetizer that's like a spiced meatball/grilled vegetable dish. I mean, crazy good.

The next day Edouard was working so Kerri and I hopped the bus to Nice - for just a euro. By the time we got there around 1pm we were already hungry, so I took us straight into the old village and we sat down for a delicious pizza lunch. Though the weather forecast had called for cold and rain, it was gloriously warm and sunny for most of our trip (well, warm off and on). We enjoyed the sun while we could, knowing a rainy Paris was waiting for us.

All Kerri wanted to do was see the sea, so we headed down to the rocky pebble beach. Ah, this amazing, amazing blue of the water.

We got an afternoon rosé and Kerri was happy. You can tell we're happy when we're touching our hair in the sun.

We walked around the old city again for a bit...

And avoided douches...

And then we met Edouard for what would be the most incredible dinner I think I can remember. It was at a place called the Bistro des Fromagers, and from the outside it just looks like a cheese shop. But Edouard knew what he was doing when he brought us there and took us straight down into the cave, which was lined with wine.

Our starter - starter! - was 8 cheeses to share, all organic and with their own preserves to complement the flavors. The place is run by two brothers and a sister, and the sister (who put the plate together) said she just goes by what she feels, and couldn't even remember the cheeses she put on our plates. All I know is that it was so freaking good I almost cried.

We also had a great wine, called "Oh...!" Haha!

For our mains, I don't remember what Edouard had, but Kerri had a fondu of Saint-Felicien cheese that I can't even describe. It is the kind of thing I hope I will remember for the rest of my life. I almost ate all of hers, but then again I had a fab plate of my own. It was a fettuccini with this sauce: It's just a block of parmesan, over which they pour cognac and then set it on fire. The remaining sauce is what they put on the pasta. OMG. O.M.G. Here is the block, with cheeses stored behind it. Pretty much my dream come true.

So that was incredible. Afterward we took a walk along the moonlit sea and were moaning about how great the food had been, and Edouard said with that sly, knowing way that French guys have, "Yes. It is very good," as though he's just shared a super cool secret with us. "But," he said with a furrowed brow, "It is not a good place to take a girl on a date." Even though it's a rather romantic setting, "you eat so much that nobody can move afterward. Nobody feels pretty after that."

So there we were, by the sea, and Edouard asked us what we wanted to do. Since the Absinthe Bar had been closed the night before when we'd returned, we decided we should sacrifice one of our souvenir bottles to have a proper Frenchman teach us the ways of absinthe, and headed back to Edouard's for our own absinthe party.

He taught us how to properly dissolve the sugar over the absinthe, or the alternate method, dissolve the sugar WITH absinthe and then set it on fire (which is the true spectacle).

I was really proud of Kerri all throughout her trip. She tried a LOT of new foods and was pretty freaked out by most of them but kept an open mind and a good attitude. Before she drank her absinthe she kept asking, "What is this going to feel like? Am I going to hallucinate?" I laughed at her while Edouard explained that it's not the way it used to be (now it's only, ahem, 70 proof), and people don't drink as much of it as they used to (which was up to 10 glasses per day!). 

We each had a glass and it was delicious. Like pastis, but earthier. Earlier in our trip Kerri had (of course) explained to Edouard how much she loves Alicia Keys, and as she took her first sip Edouard said, "WAIT!" and went to his iTunes to put on an Alicia song. Then Kerri was in seventh heaven. She was having the moment of all moments. I realized there is a French slang phrase for that euphoria. We say "Je kiffe." It means you are so happy or filled with pleasure that you wish to be nowhere else, doing nothing else.

Je kiffe.

That was a good note to end on. The next day we did a bit more sightseeing in Nice and headed back to Paris, where the rain had stuck around awaiting our return. On her last day in town, Kerri and I finished up almost everything on our to-do list, including a daytime tour of Montmartre.

I took her to Belle du Jour and all around the area.

Then we went shopping and stopped by an absinthe shop (haha!) to get more souvenirs for her loved ones back home.

We had a relaxed night in and I escorted her to the airport the next morning. I had an AMAZING week with Kerri, and these photos and brief retellings don't even do it justice. I had worked hard the month before to have a little extra cash to spend while she was here, and truly I felt like I was on vacation right along with her. It was fun to show her all the things I've been telling her about and watch her try raw milk cheeses and escargot and foie gras and absinthe, and to discover a few things along with her. To pack each day to the brim, to have our "planned spontaneity." As usual, after her visit I felt, in a way, reset. Normalized. Myself again, and ready for everything ahead of me. I feel like that every time I even speak to both Kerri and Shannon. That's how you know you're a Pengabear.