Fine Dining

We've had wonderful dinners in Paris and London- Michelin-starred, no less. We took the tasting menu at each restaurant to properly sample the chef's creations. The food tasted has been unequivocally out of this world.

I ain't no food blogger. I shan't even attempt to describe the dining experiences. Mostly, I didn't even take photos of the food. One- I carry tiny clutches. Importantly, it just isn't done to be grabbing photos of food in such a setting. At this juncture of dining, I'm not interested in photography per se. I want to sit down, enjoy the dinner company and conversation, and slowly soak it all in. The restaurants and the excellent service make it more than just about the food. The dinners are truly exquisite- a complete alchemy of textures and flavors.

What is most memorable to me, are the different options of butter available for the diner's choice. Herb, salted, unsalted, etc. All hand churned/homemade/specialty region flown in, etc. Lovely lovely texture and taste. Most of all, I love the portions of butter that were served. I'm a butter fiend. Nothing brightens my day like good butter in a almost fist-size slab. You can't imagine how my eyes lit up each time a restaurant generously serves butter in that wonderful yummlicious blob.

One Bag

There are times when I don't bother taking the camera along with me to meals and events, especially if I'm just carrying a tiny clutch. Even if the camera is present, depending on the vibe and situation, I choose not to whip it out even if there's something that I badly want a photo of. It's sometimes, just crass.

Naturally, photography isn't permitted at the designer boutiques nor the counters of luxury brands at chic malls.

Obviously, Chloé doesn't either. It didn't take me long to decide on a particular bag. I wanted a shot of it on the display rather than it slouching about at home. I don't have pretty hooks to hang it up for a good shot either. It was only after I told them to bring a new piece out for me and handed over the credit card that the uppity sales executives in their sombre suits allowed me to take one photo.

They watched me like a hawk. Whatever. At least they weren't thickheaded to say no there and then, and told me to take photographs at home, which would defeat the whole point of getting my way.

Museums & Galleries: Tally For Paris

The man had teambuilding games that involved ALOT of running around Notre Dame and central Paris. He had to google to solve the puzzles. For some strange reason, he knew the French word for 'condom'. Ha. I most certainly did not want to run around. I want to WALK, thankyouverymuch.

While the man was hard at work, I'm very pleased that I've accomplished most of what I've come to see in the short sojourn here. The Louvre and Musée d'Orsay are the 2 museums that I always go again and again.

The girlfriend bought me the Museums and Monuments card, gave me the key to her chic apartment, told me to be good and shooed me away to the streets of Paris at Le Marais.

I headed to Rue du Temple and slightly beyond. This time, I don't even need the navigator anymore. I've a very keen sense of direction. After yesterday's walk, hard stares at the map and fairly strategic directional signs along the streets, finding everything is no sweat.

The tally is such. But I think it doesn't beat the girlfriend's record when she went to Ho Chi Minh City for a day and did EVERYTHING.

• Jacquemart-André Museum
• Musée d'Art et d'Histoire du Judaisme
• Musée d'Art Juif
• Musée de la Poupée - "Au Petit Monde Ancien"
• The Centre National d'Art et de Culture Georges Pompidou (Beaubourg)
• Musée national d'Art Moderne (MoMA)
• Musée du Petit Palais
• Musée Carnavalet
• Musée d'Picasso
• Musée d'Orsay
• The Louvre

Till the next time.

Bye Paris

The man had the afternoon off before we were due to leave Paris. His colleagues rented bicycles and gamely sped round street corners to see more of the city. Neither the man and I cycle. I wasn't about to start. So we strolled along the streets to nowhere in particular. Over (bad) coffee and very delicate cheesecake, we decided to ditch the cabs and company transport to brave the Metro to figure out the lines and directions to Gare du Nord station for the train back to London.

As far as possible, I avoid the Metro in Paris. I find it really confusing. However, the man had been hopping on it quite a bit for meetings and whatnots. So this time, he thought we should just go on it together. DOH. Such enthusiasm. Like I don't take trains at home.

I concede. While I'm not enamored with Paris, what better way to see the city than taking its public transport that runs through its veins and heart.

Swinging

On the way to yet another lunch, but carefully circling Notre Dame and its snaking queues, there're many buskers out on a cheerful summer day.

I'm tickled that the puppet is jamming along to the Pixies' 'Where Is My Mind'.

Parfait Thoughts!

Very annoyed this morning because the stupid work server keeps kicking me out over VPN and I can't finish some pieces of work that suddenly cropped up. So now, I've to ask the other colleagues to help do the stuff. Back to square one. Boo.

I dislike doing that. It interrupts everyone's rhythm. If I could just read more than the inbox subject headings, I could do it on my own without having to trouble others. Arrrrgh. So now, I'm sitting by the street, looking at my breakfast and feeling slightly cheered. It isn't difficult to smile at the very colorful parfait.

The man admonished, "Please enjoy yourself. It's your vacation too. You're not indispensable to the firm." Right. Okay. True. No one cares if I'm gone. I'm just another digit. But there's a line between responsibility and being on leave. He added, "Spend away on my card. I want to see the nice things you bought." Ooh. Now, that!

Carte blanche!!! We'll see. I'm not terribly interested in shopping because I don't need to buy anything. Am meeting another friend for lunch and I intend to go to more museums and quirky little shops.

L'église Saint-Eustache

Thrilled that the man is away at work. Me-time! Often, I prefer doing things on my own, at a whatever pace dictated by the heart. Happy to be doing exactly what I like in Paris without having to worry if he'd be okay with it.

Along the way to Rue Montorgueil and meandering to the remnants of the old markets in the lanes of Les Halles to smell and taste Paris, I went into L’église Saint-Eustache. Meant to visit the not-quite-completed living church the other couple of times I was in Paris. But alas, on those trips when I was a silly naive little girl, paying homage to other shrines along Champs-Élysées took precedence.

This trip, I was determined that other things are given priority. There're a few activities on the checklist that involved Renaissance architecture; Rubens' paintings, Henri de Miller's 'l'Ecoute', and Richard Mason's work of lamenting the great food market of Les Halles that is no more by 1969. Of course there is a venue showcasing all these. L'église Saint-Eustache would be the perfect ground to view it all.

Spotted the church and its gigantic head and hand sculpture 'L'Écoute' by Henri de Miller. What beautiful Gothic facade. Built sometime between 1532 and 1632, the church holds plenty of Rubens. Many tourists stop by the church, but this afternoon, there weren't many people. How nice. It was really peaceful to simply stroll, read the cards to see what each work of art meant. I wished I had time to attend mass here. It would be so beautiful.

There was a woman playing the pipe organ. The church hosts summer recitals on the pipe organ. But I wasn't in time to listen to any. This church organ at Saint Eustache is reputed to be the largest pipe organ in France. I sat down to listen. What a treat! She wasn't playing anything spectacular. It was more of practising and keeping the church richly clad in music. The hour spent at the church was such a splendid interlude.

Walking Around

The weather is glorious. Just a light cardigan will do. No leather jackets necessary as the sun is out and shining bright. Very nice weather to do some wandering about in the city. Bright and early I went out. Then a text came in from the girlfriend. She had sneaked away from work and arranged lunch. "We eat simple. L'Atelier Berger", she instructed. "Find me."

WIN lor. So much walking to do!!! Grrrrr. Armed with the trusty GPS navigator, a map and stopping to clarify directions, I walked and walked from my hotel all the way to 49 Rue Berger. HA. I checked the watch and felt so proud that I got there 25 minutes earlier than stated. The girlfriend narrowed her eyes at me and asked "Why so late?".

I had a mini argument with her about how I was early rather. Then something dawned on me. I forgot that Paris is one hour ahead of London. OOPS. The girlfriend rolled her eyes. No sympathy from her even though I'm new to the city. Hummpf.

Bonjour Paris!

The man had to take a jaunt to Paris during this work trip. I wasn't the least interested in visiting Paris. I had a choice to stay on in London or to hop across to other cities to see friends. Since I couldn't quite juggle schedules to hop north or wherever else because the friends are also travelling, I decided to be a good girl and follow the man to Paris.

It's just another city. It doesn't make me feel unwelcome, but I'm just not into it. I don't like Paris very much. There, I said it. I can also quite happily wander around. Not at the shops though. Not keen on shopping. There's nothing to buy. Not my first time here, won't be the last either. Six years of studying French as an exam subject ensured that I could understand the language and if forced to, even speak it passably. Shouldn't be much trouble getting around. Even if I'm alone, I'd like to think that I'm not an easy target for the notorious muggers in the city. In between, I've got the friends who indulge me by helping to buy stuff from wherever. The culture of a city attracts me most. Hopefully, I can catch up with friends. If all else fails, I could immerse myself in more museums.

Loved the quick train ride that came with breakfast on proper cutlery and plates. The strawberry and cream yoghurt was so filling. Decent butter provided. If only they would do something about the cold bread. Oh well. Bonjour!