A taste of Paris

Rachel Alejandro

This is AI generated summarization, which may have errors. For context, always refer to the full article.

A taste of Paris
In a place where a 300-year-old building is considered new, time has a different meaning

I spent 7 glorious, delicious days in Paris last Holy Week because Germany won the World Cup ’14. 

Let me explain. I know next to nothing about football, but at the start of last year’s World Cup, I made a bet with my Spanish husband – a huge football fan –  that Germany would win. With Spain eliminated so early, he was rooting for Argentina and Lionel Messi, the best player in the world for him and all FC Barcelona fans.

To cut the long story short – I won the bet, he stood by his word and (after much grumbling and my gloating) booked flights to Paris. If Argentina had won, our Holy Week would have been in Russia on board the Trans Siberian train, where we would have no doubt frozen to death. Thank goodness for that goal by Mario Gotze.

So after much anticipation and careful planning of my trip wardrobe, we arrived in Paris the day before Palm Sunday, in the very last days of winter, not quite spring yet. 

On the train to our hotel in Les Halles, I excitedly plotted out activities for the next few days, wishing we had more than just a week to see everything, but figured that if we were able to prioritize and get the must-sees like the Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and Versailles out of the way early on, we could then relax and enjoy the company of my in-laws, who were flying in from Spain to join us for a few days.

The Eiffel Tower

But disaster struck just minutes after we got to our hotel. I injured my toe in the shower and was bleeding, but no way was I going to let something as stupid as that throw a wrench into my plans. Despite the pain, I limped around, eagerly taking in the sights, sounds and energy of Paris. My eyes hungrily devoured the sight of everything and everyone walking by the small cafe on St. Honoré where we had our first meal – savory crepes, which I also very quickly devoured. 

I couldn’t believe I was finally there! I was delighted to discover that because I’m such a foodie, I knew enough French food words to make sense of any menu, even if it was completely in French. 

One of the things people have told me to expect in Paris was that the locals would be snooty, bordering on rude, and refuse to speak English. Again, I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was none of that. Everywhere we went, people were helpful and did their best to understand what I was asking them. 

Day 2 was museum day. We visited the Centre Pompidou for modern art and after a sumptuous lunch, proceeded to the Louvre, where my first stop was to check out the ancient Egyptian art, with which I’ve always been strangely obsessed, even tattooing the symbol of Ra on my lower back. My eyes moistened a few times as the relics seemed to transport me back to the time of the pharaohs.

The Louvre

The one not-so-great thing about visiting the Louvre — or any Paris attraction — is that it’s crawling with tourists pretty much any time of year. More people visit this city than any other, which means lining up forever to get into museums and pushing your way through a sea of humanity once you’re inside. Getting a decent selfie with the Mona Lisa in the background was no picnic, as dozens of others were trying to do the same thing right beside me.

Mona Lisa

Despite the crowds, it’s easy to see why many say Paris is the most romantic city on earth. I’m already pretty cheesy to begin with, so there I turned into an absolute boule de fromage (cheese ball), sighing repeatedly and almost weeping at all the gorgeous scenery or works of art. And for some reason, walking down the Champs Elysees – “the most beautiful avenue in the world” according to the French, made me imagine I was as glamorous as Angelina Jolie in that god-awful movie The Tourist

By the time my in-laws were scheduled to arrive, I however felt much more like the Hunchback of Notre Dame than Angelina, hobbling around with my toe swollen and red like a tomato. The wound never had a chance to heal, and it got infected from all the walking. I had to buy a pair of sneakers, give up wearing boots and pretty much all sense of fashion. Besides, apparently it rains almost daily in Paris that time of year, so I was covered in the same boring rain coat throughout. 

Opera National de Paris

In a place where a 300-year-old building is considered new, time has a different meaning. Because of my ridiculously small yet painful injury, we were forced to take our time and rest in between activities. Europeans say that they don’t understand how American tourists like to carry a list and hurry from one attraction to another, crossing off items as they go. As a modern Pinay, I guess you could say I’m kind of Americanized in that sense. Like any other trip, I came to Paris with a goal – to see it all and spend quality time with my husband’s family. 

But this holiday was destined to be different. My in-laws, who are both in very good shape and fast walkers, had to slow down for me. We lingered over meals, took many espresso breaks.

Dining in France, while admittedly quite expensive, is worth every penny, or in this case, cent. We never went anywhere fancy, and yet the quality of the food was always top-notch. Not only do the French know how to cook, they never use anything other than the best of ingredients. You can taste the love they put into their food. 

If we didn’t walk so much, we would have gotten fat. But every day right after breakfast, we set out on foot, hardly ever riding a cab or train, except when we went 30 minutes outside of the city to see the Palace of Versailles. We suffered in line for an hour and a half in the bitter cold, but when we finally got inside, it was so worth the wait. Every square inch of the palace was a sight to behold. I stopped to listen to some of the tour guides, but mostly I just drank everything in. 

Palace of Versailles

In the following days, we roamed the city, strolled all the way to Montmartre and climbed the steep steps up to The Basilica of the Sacred Heart. The view from up there was as breathtaking as the inside of the church. We wandered aimlessly around the different districts and were completely charmed by the Latin Quarter and Le Mareis. 

Montmartre

On our final day, I knew I was totally smitten with Paris and was beginning to get sad that we had to leave. The last place we visited was the Musée d’Orsay. My husband said it was not to be missed. He was right. How can I even begin to describe how I felt looking at the Monets and Renoirs? There are no words. 

Musee D'Orsay

As we boarded our flight back home to our lives, back to reality, I promised myself that I would be back. I still have so many cities left to see, other dream destinations, but this taste of Paris has left me wanting for more. 

So for now, au revoir, Paris. – Rappler.com

All photos provided by Rachel Alejandro

Rachel Alejandro is a singer-actress, entrepreneur and best-selling co-author of The Sexy Chef Cookbook. Follow her on Facebook, Instagram @SexyChefRachel, Twitter @TheSexyChefRachelA

 

 

 

 

Add a comment

Sort by

There are no comments yet. Add your comment to start the conversation.

Summarize this article with AI

How does this make you feel?

Loading
Download the Rappler App!