Le Parc de Seaux and une soirée de salsa

The morning began with a jaunt about the neighborhood. I had read that the marché des enfants rouges was having a little fête today and tomorrow, so I walked over and sure enough, there were dégustations galore. There was a boulangère, a fromagère, a boucherie and a caviste. Pretty much everything you'd expect from France but all right outside my favorite market and all handing out free samples.

After helping myself to some Tomme that couldn't have been more delicious or expensive (38 EUR the kilogram! yikes!), some gormet saucisson sec and a bit of wine, I bought a chocolate covered palmier from an adorable man who assured me that I wouldn't get fat from the monstrosity of a pastry he handed me for a mere 1,50 EUR. I don't know what this man was thinking; the thing does not have any indication of being good for you. Picture warm, buttery pastry dough, covered in sugar, and covered in chocolate. It was pure deliciousness and the perfect petit dejeuner.

I walked through the quartier a little bit before grabbing a hot baguette for the road on my way to the Parc de Seaux. Seaux is a sub-urb of Paris (a banlieue) that is built around a very gorgeous chateau and even more gorgeous gardens. This was the chateau built immediately before Versailles, and the gardens do not dissapoint. The Chateau is in "zone 3," so the regular metro pass doesn't cover the trip - luckily SLC payed for our aller-retours.


After arriving at the chateau, we walked around inside the gorgeous 18th century building. I felt like a real princess -- everything was lined in gold. The view from the chateau was even more impressive. The french doors on the first floor opened up to a view of an enormous series of gardens "à la française."


The nice thing about the chateau is that it is not only a museum and historical monument, it is a public parc. Ironically, many things that were originally built for the aristocrats are now public establishments for the rich and poor alike. Anyway, the residents of Seaux were out and about on the grounds playing sports, having picnics and walking their dogs.


After a jaunt about the gardens, Natalie, Tanya and I stopped at a café for some chocolat chaud and a nice view of the gardens. It's been beautiful out lately and today was no different.

I returned home and got ready for a night at Pachanga, the salsa club I had heard about. I was kind of sceptacle, but the entry fees were not very expensive (only 8 EUR) and came with a drink, so I figured I could just enjoy a beverage if worst came to worst.

I did not just enjoy my beverage.

When I got there, they were having a lesson and I jumped right in. I was really excited to see so many people out and about. It was kind of hard to understand everything the teacher was saying since the steps are obviously called different things in French, but I just did my best watching and following the guys.

Everything was going great until the lesson finished and someone asked me to dance. He started dancing and it was completely different than anything I'd ever seen before. I tried to ask in my best French, "What is that you're doing?"

Apparently, most people in Paris dance a type of salsa that is rarely danced in LA. They call it "cuban salsa" here (go figure that speaking the language was not going to be my only problem for the evening). I asked the man next to me what they call the type of salsa that the teacher was just teaching, and he told me that they call it "puerto rican salsa" here. Apparently, they only teach the kind of salsa that I do on Friday nights. I got in the habbit of introducing myself as, "Hi! I'm Emily and I only dance puerto rican salsa."

Luckily there were some guys there who also danced puerto rican and were happy to dance with me. I did try cuban a couple of times, and it was ok -- I'm just stubborn I guess. I like to know what I'm doing before I do it.

All in all, I'm very satisfied with my evening at Pachanga. It's a real nice place even if you don't like dancing. There are lots of tables and the food looked really good (one of the few places that serves mexican food in Paris). You can get a full meal for 22 EUR and the meals that include drinks start at 27 EUR. The drinks are a bit pricey on their own (8-10 EUR) but you get one (or two) included with an entry fee of 8 (or 14) EUR.

The music was good, the people were nice (espeically the staff), and I am really starting to feel like I've found my crowd in Paris.

Total Damages:
1 palmier dipped in chocolate: 1,50 EUR
1 baguette: ,90 EUR
bottle of faux-rangina: ,81 EUR
entry, dance lesson, and drink (the first place I've seen that serves margaritas) to Pachanga: 8 EUR

L'opéra Garnier, les champs elysées, and le marais!

One of my favorite things about my neighborhood is that I'm pretty damn close to everything. Even by foot.

Money-saving tip of the day: don't spend money on a movie ticket when the city is your théâtre!

I woke up this morning, put on some walking shoes, and trekked the couple blocks down to the gorgeous opéra garnier. The air was crisp, but the sun was out, so the golden angels adorning the enormous rooftop glistened like a royal crown. Although it was only 9 am, the tourists were already out and about. I suppose I blended right in, taking out my camera and snapping a few shots.
I continued on to tourist spot number 2: the Riz. Surrounded by Cartier, Chanel, and Tiffany's, the Riz fits right in. It even has a red carpet. I think the doormen felt bad for me and the way that I was longingly looking into the lobby like a starving child because they waved at me and said the very polite, "bonjour madamoiselle." I took out my camera and snapped a picture so that they knew I was merely a tourist and they didn't actually have to open the door for me.

I walked by the Westin and D&G on my way to the Place de la Condorde. I think I have found the money hole of Paris. It's funny that just a couple streets down I walked past a homeless man sleeping next to the ED, and here there are thousands of dollars being spent on one handbag.

Walking along the very useful street Rivoli, I came across the place de la concorde. While the photos look gorgeous, we have to remember that this is the place where everyone was guillotined all those years ago. I looked down at the Madeleine as Napoleon had remodeled it, and the place de la concorde itself, noticing how fabulous a landscape for monuments it is. Facing the Madeleine from the opposite side of the place, the Madeleine fits in seamlessly with the two symmetrical buildings along side the Place de la Concorde. Standing in front of the Madeleine, the flatness of the Place allows you to see all of Paris' tall monuments, peaking out above the skyline.


After my fix of skyline, I went down the jardin that leads to the acclaimed champs elysées. I started humming to myself as I walked along the tree-lined pathway feeling the crisp autumn breeze rustle the leaves on the ground, which are just beginning to change color.


Then a startling thing happened -- as I crossed the line from the garden area to the land of shopping heaven, the tourists multiplied, jumped out of nowhere, and flooded the streets. It was like an adult disneyland! I don't think that my neighborhood is devoid of tourists (I live so close to the centre pompidou, after all), but this place made my neighborhood look like the "locals only" side of the beach. Where did all these people come from, I thought.

I looked at the street, too, and noticed that the traffic was terrible. Partially due to the fact that taxis scour the streets like tigers waiting to feast on the weak.

I did my duty and went into Sephora, walked to the end of the street, and took a picture of the arc de triomphe. At this point, I was not willing to walk through the sea of tourists on my way back to la concorde, so I took the metro home.


After a delicious (I don't think that word even does the meal justice) piece of brie, apple, and nutella crêpe, I got the idea to start my photo project. M. Vermès wants us to "get to know our neighborhoods" through photography, so I decided to get myself lost in the 3rd, and the Marais (since I really want that to be considered part of my neighborhood. It sounds more chic saying "I live in the Marais" than "I live in the 3rd," even though technically I think that "marais" means marsh or swampland since the area used to be the marshes of the Seine. Anyway, since everything got paved over for the residences of the noblesse in the 18th century, "le Marais" has sounded very chic).


My journey to get lost in my own neighborhood took a very bad turn when I realized I was on a street I know well: rue de rosiers. However, I noticed something different about this street. I usually come down at nighttime, during the week, so I failed to notice that this street was basically a "jewish street." Being saturday morning, most everything was closed, and almost every sign was written in Hebrew as well as French.



As I passed the falafal joints and the delis (all of whom boast the "best pastrami in paris") I felt compelled to take pictures of this very distinct part of my neighborhood. There was gafilta fish in many a window, often next to Manischewitz brand anything. I loved the labels -- first English, then French, then sometimes Hebrew.

After my tour of the best jewish bakeries in town, I cruised down by St. Paul, which is said to be the "center" of the marais (though who really knows -- supposedly it's the triangle made by the hotel de ville, republique, and place de la bastille -- but everyday I get asked by other lost souls, "is this the Marais?"). Center or not, the area around St. Paul is adorable with lots of cute vendors, markets, and chocolatiers.

I was really enjoying how multicultural my neighborhood was -- not only is there this rue de rosiers, but we have a very established chinese community. I've come across a couple japanese stores with people who actually speak japanese working inside them (this is a big deal) as well as brazilian market places, and lebanese markets. This was such a relief from the Champs Elysées.

As I cruised back up toward the 3rd, I stumbled upon the Marché des Enfants Rouges. I wanted to scream in delight! I had forgotten that this wonderful marketplace was in my neighborhood. Basically you take this back-alley-type street off of rue de bretagne and end up in the mecca of all outdoor street markets. It's like the farmers market in Santa Monica multiplied by 10 and plus wine!

I couldn't stay long and many of the eateries were closing up shop for the day anyway, but I shot some pictures while taking in the delicious smells of all the international and gorgeous cuisines around me. The marché is not just a bunch of eateries though, there are local vendors who sell produce, international products, specialty items, flowers, etc... Just fabulous. I can't wait to go with Jay and grab at seat at one of the many canopied picnic benches to enjoy an afternoon of great dining, great people watching, and great community.


Feeling so proud that my little community had this great big gemstone at its heart, I decided not to take myself home quite yet. I cruised down to the local park by Square du Temple for some more people watching and photos. When I got there, I discovered that the park was more full than usual. In fact there were big white tents all around the park, with lots of teenagers waiting in long lines.


What is this, you ask? What else could this be: they were waiting in line to get their comic books signed. They have comic books in France? Yes they do! And they are gorgeous -- pretty much works of art from the very limited glances I got of these kids' new purchases.


On my way home, I passed a bike with wheels that looked like a Salvador Dali painting (we're talking tires that literally melted into the pavement) and palmiers that really were the size of elephant ears. I dropped off the camera and did my afternoon shopping:

1 ENORMOUS bottle of balsamic vinegar (gotta stock up): 1,99 EUR
1 extra bottle of cab sav: 1,79 EUR
1 kg of pasta (the first one lasted me all month, I think it's a pretty good deal): ,91 EUR

I remembered that I wanted to write my name and the date on my food so I could keep better track of how far my budget was stretching, but I also remembered that they don't seel sharpies in France (I remember when Jay's friend, Richard, came to visit us in the US, he bought almost 30 sharpies). Luckily, there is an Office Depot right accross from my apt, and I figured they would have permanent markers. They did -- but the only come in packs of 4. Tant pis -- I guess I can color coordinate my labels now.

Pack of permanent markers: 2,01 EUR

After talking with my mommy for a bit, I made some dinner. Tonight I had an old favorite: tomatoes and cucumbers (this time with pesto and balsamic), and a heaping bowl of spaghetti with meat sauce. I finished off the first bottle of cab sav and sat down to a delicious feast.

After eating, I got a call from Davis, one of the 2 boys on our program, saying that some of the kids from the program were getting together at Jessica's apt. Since Jessica lives literally 2 blocks down the road from me, I headed over post dinner. We all had a great time just chatting and listening to old music. Unfortunately, we never made it out of the apt. as planned, so I didn't get to meet any more French people that night.

However, I had a great day exploring the city and meeting new people from the program.

Total Damages:
1 bottle of balsamic vinegar: 1,99 EUR
1 extra bottle of cab sav: 1,79 EUR
1 kg of pasta : ,91 EUR
Pack of permanent markers: 2,01 EUR