Two Nights in Paris
I’ve always wanted to go to Paris ever since my parents took my brother there and left me behind on the pretext of my being too small. I was 3, and like Stewey, what do they know? Anyway, 20 years later I got my chance. As soon as I heard about the conference I wanted to take an extra week off and go exploring. What was even better was that unlike all my other trips I wouldn’t have to make a presentation as such so there was no pressure. I was just told to make “an active contribution, presenting SL’s views and experiences whereever possible.” Brilliant. I was scheduled to leave on the 26th of September, work till the 28th, and I was hoping to get back towards the end of 1st week October. Annoyingly plans were dashed by a meeting being scheduled for October 2nd in Colombo so I had to be back. That left me with 3 nights in Paris and the whole of Saturday to explore. It would have to do. The visa as expected was a pain. Had to get health insurance, loads of documentation from work (including a copy of the Parliamentary Act under which we exist) and show up for an interview and the usual finger printing on a separate day. That day however it became clear why they have to do all of this. There was a chap from Kalutara who was applying for a 3 month tourist visa and we got chatting. Half way through he looks at me and casually asks, “ithin oya innawada, enawada?” I first had no idea what he was on about, and then I figured it out and said that I’m coming back. After a few mins I asked him the same question, he just looked at me and smiled. The next day I met him again at the collection centre and he didn’t get his visa; 11k down the drain.
As usual I spent my time at the airport reading through travel guides of the place I was going to, making notes on my phone as to what I should see. I wrote the following;
“First floor Denon wing for Italian and Spanish, First floor Sully Wing for Egyptian. (Referring to the sections of Le Louvre). Montmartre for dinner, Moulin Rouge opposite Blanche Metro St. Marche Beauvau near Le Bastille, Marais for architecture.”
A stroke of luck saw me upgraded on the overbooked flight to Dubai. I thought I’d practice my very rusty French and order some Bordeaux wine while I watched the Namesake. About a year ago I read the book, and as usual the film was struggling to match up. There was a quick transit in Dubai and several episodes of “How I met your mother” later, it was announced that we were beginning the descent to Charles de Gaulle. As expected the first landmark I recognized was Le Tour Eiffel, lit up and sparkling like a nila koora. Immigration and customs was quick despite the customs lady speaking to me entirely in French and my forgetting the word for clothes. I was told to take a bus to the city centre and take a cab from there to the conference centre. I only had 50 Euro notes on me so I didn’t have change for the 14E ticket for the bus, and nor did the driver. The driver for the night was easily the cutest bus driver I’ve ever come across, she reminded me of a short haired Winona Ryder in jeans and a black leather jacket. Despite an initial “non non non” when I produced my 50E, she was sweet enough to let me off without paying when we got to Gare Montparnasse. It was around 10.30pm by now but I thought I’d try take a train and then a bus to Sèvres where the meeting was due to be held. Unfortunately the trains had just stopped running so I had to take a cab. There was a huge queue for cabs at the train station and it was midnight by the time I got to my room. I learned later that there had been a cab strike in Paris that day and I was lucky to find a cab at all. No chance of food at that hour so I had a shower and hit the sack.
Breakfast the next morning was a confusing affair. It was self service and the only stuff available were a few croissants, baguettes, butter, cheese, bananas and coffee. I thought this must be starters or something when I was reminded by the lady I sat with that breakfast in France is traditionally very light (Petit déjeuner - makes sense). Work began in earnest after catching up with some familiar faces from London over coffee. The sessions were in English and French, with simultaneous translations. I was sad to find that I could barely follow any of the French despite being quite good at the language about a decade ago. Mercifully lunch was early, terminating my hypoglycaemia. I had lunch with an Austrian girl and two chaps from Malawi. Wine was served with lunch, and a few glasses combined with limited food in the system gave me the giggles. Lunch itself was very decent - chicken in white wine and cheesy potatoes - nice. The rest of the day was interesting, despite it not being my pet subject, and well structured - the OECD boys and girls had clearly done their homework. Dinner that night was to be on Le Paris - a boat that cruises along the Seine for two hours - it promised to be great fun.
The dress code said casual so I showed up in shirt and jeans, only to find everyone else in dinner jackets and proper trousers. I never seem to learn that dress codes mean nothing in these things. I ran back up and quickly changed. We got onto the boat just next to the Eiffel Tower. It was wonderful seeing it from so close - I was glad the boat took a while to leave bc I was able to stand and admire it for sometime, marveling at its sheer magnitude and opulence (which almost resulted in the French destroying it). I could see lifts going up and down the tower and tried to imagine the view from up there at this time - full moon and all, beautiful. I was lucky to be seated next to a Frenchman and German at dinner, the former gave a live commentary of the sights on the bank of the Seine and the latter provided witty anecdotes that the Frenchman would never have divulged. We sailed past Notre Dame on the tiny island (Île de la Cité) from which the Romans began to develop Paris, Le Louvre, Le Musée d’Orsay which I was told was a better bet than Le Louvre as much for its content as for its architecture - the museum is a converted railway station, following the closure of the station after a train crashed right through it and ended up jutting out over the Seine. My first taste of Paris was wonderful. I loved the architecture of the various buildings mingled with the anecdotes, the images conjured in my mind of dancing on the little stages lining the bank of the river during summer, the stories of revolution, Bohemian culture and romance - it all felt so real, so possible. It was funny to hear that the Minister of Finance (or was it defence?) goes to work by boat, in fact we saw his boat moored next to the lift to his office over the river. Dinner itself was excellent - there was an avocado salad, steak, lots of great wine, cheese and coffee. The two and a half hours literally sailed by.
The next morning I was more prepared for breakfast and was able to better enjoy the wonderful flavour of the French bread which can so easily be eaten plain. Over lunch one of the organisers who I had made friends with in London came and asked me if I had considered a career in rap. I was puzzled for a second but then realised that he was referring to my express speaking - I tend to talk fast at the best of times, and when I do so in public it gets that much worse. Lunch was interesting bc of the types of cheese on offer. There was authentic blue cheese with live fungus. I was advised to eat the camembert first since it’s a lot smoother and milder. And it was. After some apprehension I went ahead with the blue cheese, and it was surprisingly good. I’m not a big fan of cheese but it had strong, diverse flavours - and it went down beautifully with the wine. The conference ended on the 2nd day on a decent note, I had learned a fair bit and contributed, if in rapid-fire mode. We wound up around 6 and I was feeling the effects of jet lag. To my shame I was tempted to stay in and make an extra early start tomorrow, but fortunately I came to my senses and headed downstairs to figure out the best way to get into the city and earmark some place to have dinner. I had a pretty hopeless map - it was a Paris transport map which gave no indication of roads but only of metro and rail stations. While I was trying to figure the map out I was joined by a Bangladeshi couple who had attended the conference. The lady asked me if I had been in Paris before, I said no and she sat me down saying they had lived in Paris for 5 years. A stroke of luck. She suggested I spend the evening in Opéra and told me how to get there using the underground system. They were also on their way to the City so I joined them. I took their advice and purchased a Carnet for 11E which entitled me to 10 journeys by bus or train within the city.
The Paris underground system is pretty simple - it has 14 lines and each is referred to by its number, so you just need to know the first and last stations in the line. As soon as I was on the train I felt like I was in London, twenty somethings with their ipods shutting out the rest of the world, others buried in their books, couples buried in each other - I barely felt the 20mins ride to the city centre. Getting off the train I registered landmarks so that I can find my way back to the station. It didn’t take long to come across the fabulous Paris Opéra. The large building was adorned with intricate sculptures, long columns and delicate touches of gold in an opulent but classy manner. It was stunning at night against the navy blue sky and the moon lighting it up quite beautifully. I admired it from several angles and cursed that I couldn’t take a perfect photograph of it without blurs. The picture in my mind would have to suffice until it is erased by time. I kept looking back at it as I walked away to etch its image in my memory. The wide road led towards a brightly lit building with a sign that read Hotel Du Louvre, so I thought I’d follow the bright lights. The buildings lining the road were tall, proud and looked very dignified. I didn’t give into the temptation to explore each and every little alley that led to narrow little streets lined with cafes and bars, if I did I would have been there all night, and I was hungry.
I finally reached Hotel du Louvre after what seemed an eternity. The immediate area was full of posh restaurants so I walked along till I came across Le Louvre itself. I didn’t know that this was only the back entrance, but it was quite a sight in its own right. I backtracked to a cafe that had plenty of locals and decided to eat there. The waiter spoke English which was a give away that this was a tourist spot. Nonetheless it was a great place to sit down for a meal, outdoors and just near a busy roundabout - full of pedestrians, motor traffic and ppl on bicycles. I ordered Canard avec Pommes de Terre (duck and potatoes), one of the house specials, and it was excellent. The duck was nice and crispy if slightly dry, but it was well flavoured. The potatoes were nice and cheesy, and went well with the baguette served on the side. I spent a long time sitting there, eating slowly, watching the city move by. Lots of tourists went passed, pouring over maps, speaking different languages, wearing different skin colours - all trying to emerse themselves in the magic of Paris. The friendly waiter asked if I want coffee, I had an espresso and made my way back. As usual the walk back feels much shorter than the walk up, and just as I reached Opera I took a detour towards some lively looking road to the right. And lively it was. Loads of ppl were walking up and down, there were plenty of smaller scale restaurants and bars, ppl watching the rugby, and others just having a chat. I walked along enjoying the sights and sounds of big city life, loving the anonymity, the atmosphere. It reminded me of some parts of Soho in London. I came across a tiny little alley opposite the Hard Rock Cafe. It was an alley within a building and most of the shops and restaurants had closed, but there was one that was open and it was full of life. There were plenty of locals, the place was cozy, buzzing with conversation and the food smelled great. I wished I had eaten here and made a note to try and visit it the next day. I moved on down another road and found a van selling crêpes. I had a crêpe sucre which was deliciously wrapped into a cone, but it was a bit too much to handle so unfortunately I had to chuck half of it. It was almost midnight by now so I decided to head back. The underground was quick and easy and as I waited to for the bus to the conference centre in Sèvres I ran into the Bangladeshi couple returning from their function. They were very glad to see me and the lady said that she was worried that I may get lost. I was touched by their concern, it wasn’t the first time I had experienced Bangladeshi kindness. I was pretty tired when I got back to my room, it was going to be a long day tomorrow; Champs Elysses, Le Louvre, Notre Dame, Montmartre and Latin Quarter were on the agenda - a lot to cover in a day. As I was falling asleep I quietly prayed for sunshine. Bon nuit Paris.
