Katie, Mary and I at the Metro station.
No explanation needed except commentary: you really can't take a bad picture of the Eiffel Tower.
Fruit and vegetable market [Erin Gio]
I still can't believe how fresh and locally-grown everything is. The smell of the food in the markets here is inescapable. One can literally smell it from blocks away. I realized that in Phoenix and in the U.S. in general, this basic luxury is essentially nonexistent. In fact, mostly everything is imported and vacuum-sealed in some kind of way. Even our deli's pretty much "encage" the food, supposedly delivered and made fresh daily (?). And you'd think I had gotten the blueberries, but I didn't! Actual cranberries, instead. I have never had a real cranberry before and no, Ocean Spray cran-grape does not count [Ted].
Ok, let me introduce my new favorite type of flower - pivoines. Well, at least these specific ones. Tulips are still the best. And I have to mention that the most interesting, pleasant thing I've observed thus far in regards to Parisian flowers are the multitudes of men carrying them around. I have not seen one woman.
My resulting lunch post-market shopping at the Eiffel Tower green. So much fromage (cheese)! According to Dalton/Susser there's one different type of cheese for each day of the year. Another reason to love the French kitchen: not only is food shopping done every two days on average, but everything is left out on the counter to briefly age to its purest ripeness. A refrigerator is only useful for what was not eaten the day of purchase that must be in a cool environment to be eaten the next day.
Today's breakfast: omelette au fromage (cheese omelette. Yes, more cheese) at L'Ecir cafe. I really do love being a morning person here. Just sitting, enjoying the food and the morning. It made me question why I let myself have 10 minutes to spare in the morning back at home to gulp down coffee and run out the door. Oh yeah, there's nothing wonderful outside besides rocks.
After galavanting about the metro and watching the weird-required film - cafe au lait. Besides the cold, I felt so expatriate sitting at a cafe, ordering an au lait and doing my homework.
Can I just complain about the FIAP for a second? Well I have been all day but just for a second here. First, asking for towels is painful for the people here (Jennifer can attest). I'm sorry that I'm a towel whore and like to be hygienic. Why are there 5 outlets in our room where the holes are caulked and are thus unusable so I have to go down to the lobby? Why do we have to pay for internet in our rooms when it's free in the lobby (depending on if it works)? What is the point of folding up our beds each day if nothing else is replaced (towels, toilet paper, etc.)? Why is there no hand soap? Why is there an overhanging ledge directly above the sink so I end up impaling myself in the forehead every time I wash my face? Why does the fire alarm sound like a telephone ring (shout out to Barrett for conditioning me against any kind of alarm). I'm not sure why, but yesterday a group of us ended up hanging out in the lounge of the Mariott down the street I think in passing glory before going back to the FIAP. It was like please, give me more wine so the FIAP never happened.
Thankfully, we're leaving the FIAP early tomorrow morning for different excursions around France for the rest of the week before finally settling into our Paris apartments next weekend. Chartres cathedral tomorrow [Liz and Erin H]. So, so excited :D
Ocean Spray is the only cran-grape that matters.
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