Paris - 'Aww yeah, it's alright...'

Paris (France)

25 JUL - 28 JUL

So what does Paris really have? OK, so it has that tower that Gustav put up, and it has an Arc that was dedicated to war heroes so that its granduer would befit the epic victories of battle...and it has the Notre Dame, the Champs Elysees, Sacre Coeur, the butte of Montmarte, the Seine, the Louvre, the catacombs, Royale's with cheese, beer in McDonalds, croissants, brioche et al. Yes, it has all of that, all of that is part of the Paris that most people know and all of it is awesome. They're the elements that either bring you here or the ones that keep you coming back, and that's more than a valid notion.

Going with the classics from the get go - Gustav´s tower - Paris

Arc de Triomphe

Notre Dame

Basilica de Sacre Coeur

Champs Elysees

Bridges of the Seine

Royale's with cheese & beer - Pulp Fiction was not 'a foolin''

But...what Paris also has is happy hour! Although the happy hour in Paris magically turns into a plethora of hours at various establishments that can kick off anywhere from 4pm and have you comfortably in absolute bliss until 10:30pm. It's virtually a working day of happy hours, everyday of the week! I mean, why drink at any other time of day? Is there really a need to do so unless you absolutely require to partake in that fabulous Parisienne tradition of having a red or two with lunch. If you time it just right, the combination of lunch and a couple of reds will easily get you over the line for 'Happy Hours'...and the ways these guys do it, it turns into 'Happy Days'!

What else is there? I have the feeling that when the members of Cirque de soleil are on break that somehow they all turn up on the streets Paris busking.  Each twist and turn on a Parisienne streets has a new and exciting busker, ready to take away your Euro, but hey, you're more than happy to pay them for their work. One day when JJ  and I were up the butte of Montmarte, (yes, it sounds as bad as it reads), checking out Sacre Coeur and the amazing view over Paris, we caught Iya Traore, a footballer/freestyler, who was simply amazing. His musical backing tracks left a lot to be desired, I mean if I was his manager I'd beat him around the head a few times to smarten him up, (Celine Dion? C'mon man!), but really, this guy is insanely talented. Not only does he have skills whilst on terra firma but the kid can climb up a lamp post and keep the ball at his feet or spinning on a pen sitting comfortably in his mouth, what a headspin!?

Iya Traore - freestyling at Sacre Coeur- but does he have hacky sack skills?

Well, he might have hacky skills - the record is 56 Iya - what's your graph like?

Check out Iya's skills via this YouTube clip [Skills to pay the bills]

Another thing to add. Now this is my second trip to Paris and thus far I have not encountered the French 'arrogance' that Parisieene's are apparently so well known for. Being the dumb English speaker that I am, I conversed with each and every Parisienne in the only language that I'm truly comfortable with. Not only was everyone courteous and helpful but they did it with a smile on their face, well, except for the guy at the coffee shop downstairs - and whilst the dude didn't smile there wasn't really a trace of arrogance that I could locate on my 'douche dar'. I also have JJ to back me on that call, and whilst JJ knows a couple of arrogant French outcasts at home, there were none to be found in this sojourn.

And finally, as for the place being covered with dog shit? No ...As for it smelling like urine? Well, maybe a little, but I've walked many places in Sydney and have been in many a car park where it smells like half the freakin population had urinated in a stairwell the night before. So that stereotype doesn't seem to hold much water in the fact that it's no different to any other major city in the western world.

Now for Paris and what we did...where to begin, where to begin??

Our first night was about getting out and seeing the Eiffel tower light up. As JJ had read somewhere, the tower lights up for 5 minutes every hour and as a 'Welcome to Paris' badge, it's the equivalent to walking across the Harbour bridge or taking photos of the Opera House. For some reason the main train line to Champs de Mars - Eiffel was closed down and JJ put it to me that we should walk our way there. Now, for people  who geographically know Paris will also know how much of a walk JJ suggested when I mention where we were located. Our little 18m2 appartment was on Rue de Tournelles, in the Marais district  (4th arrondissement). We had already walked from there down to the Seine, acrose the Ile de la Cite where Notre Dam is located and were now eyeing off the Latin Quarter when the suggestion came about. My response was something akin to what I gave JJ when she wanted to walk to Sagrada Familia in Barcelona when we were standing down by the port, 'You what now!?'. Never the less, we went for it, and something close to 1.5 - 2 hrs later we were sitting on the lawns of the Champ de Mars with other Aussies, Germans, Dutch and Spanish tourists, with Indian touts walking around trying to sell water, beer and whatever else they had thought of. Still, the tower is mighty impressive and when it sparks up on the hour, you can only sit back and marvel at the 324mtrs of structure that Gustav and his crew built for the world fair back in the 1889.

It's that tower again

Twinkle..and go now!

26 JUL - Fist pump to triumph

Waking up anywhere close to 10am in Paris was an early mark for us. Seriously though, why feel the need to be compelled to do anything when you're on holidays, especially get out of bed, at any time? When we did finally muster the will to beat the magnetism of the matress we decided to check off another major destination from our Parisienne checklist. So, you may have heard of the place, it kind of pales in comparison to the Eiffel tower but yeah, 'it's alright also', the Arc de Triomphe! Just a smallish structure commissioned by Napolean back in 1806 to welcome home his troops in granduer.

Turning right - Arc de Triomphe 

Up close and personal

Climbing up its 234 stairs, you have a tendency of getting a little dizzy from  wicked right hand turn that gets elevated up from street level to the top of the arch. Not like we hadn't done our fair share of step climbing over the past few weeks either, there was the four floors in our Barcelona apartment, the floors in Marrakech, the floors in Fes, the floors in Chefchouen, the trek up the Atlas to get ourselves the only alcohol available in a dry medina. If ever there was a recurring theme for a holiday, well the steps would pretty much win the day...but with that said, what you claim on your own you enjoy a lot more and  tend to savour the sweetness of victory just a little more, well, so mountaineers and snowboarders would have you believe in any case. So it was that at the top of the Arc de Triomphe we took in a fantastic view of Paris and conquered another famous hometown landmark, one that stands in the midst of so many.

27 JUL - Taking it up the butte

The area of Montmarte use to be known as the last town of Paris, well that was until such time that it was subsumed in the immensity of the French capital. Standing atop of the butte of Montmatre is the Basillica of Sacre Coeur, built somewhere in the 1880's, it has commanding views over the city and is impressive in its stature and presence. Making a fabulously early start to the Parisieene day, somewhere about 12 from my guesses, we jumped a train to Abyesees station and walked up the main stairways of the butte unitl we were well and truly up it. Sometimes stairs can take you to weird and wonderful places hey.

Iya - just hanging around

The streets surrounding Sacre Couer, the area of Montmarte, is kind of a bohemian/artistic centre. Well, more so in the earlier part of last century than it is these days. Ofcourse, like most drawcards it's touristy but to me it still holds that quaint charm that equivalent places like it still hold, like Leura in the Blue Mountains or Montville on the outskirts of Sunshine Coast. We cruised around for a while, checked out Sacre Coeurr and then witnessed a freakish kind of artistry that only a Ghanain with a soccer ball and  too much time on his hands could deliver. Iyra Toare, football freestyle extroardinairre, not only put the hacky sack skills of McPhisto and Elisher to shame (What now!?), but made we want to renounce my religion and take up the religion of freestyling, (what am I again?). This guy was a freak, actually he was more than that, he was a freak in freak's clothing, he was freakish squared. The stuff that he was pulling off I'd only ever seen on YouTube and even then I thought the vids were doctored. Not so with Iyra the magician, hand stands, heels, lamp posts, it was all in his repertoire. I've never seen a busker be asked for autographs before but I think that about 20+ people asked him to sign bits of paper during the time that we watched him display his skills.

Bar shots - the intensity of those eyes, the purpose - all to land a strawer into a glass from 20cms

JJ - looking all sweet and innocent...lol...she'd just ventured down from the butte, c'mon now!

Making our way down from the butte and guessing our way, walking style, back to the Pompidou, we got within two blocks of our destination when we were stopped in our tracks by the call of happy hour and the NEED to down 5euro cocktails for the sake of happiness. Who are we to miss that type of opportunity? I mean where can you get decent $8 AUD cocktails at home for 5-6 hrs a day? ...and where can you feel compelled to take ridiculous black and white photos of you progressively getting hammered as your happiness increases exponetially? Nowhere I say! Nowhere but in the town that is always extremely gay!  That my dear friends is the way we remained, well, with the aid of some Euro fried chicken and samurai sauce, that's the way we remained for out remaining waking hours...oh, and perhaps with the assistance with a little more vodka at home...that's the way we remained (I think?). All that I know is Jeff Buckley put us to sleep on this night, Hallelujah.

28 JUL - Cruising

We cruised on the Seine for most of the day. Jumping a 'hop on/hop off' Seine shuttle which took us around to the main ports of call such as Notre Dam, the Tuilleries, the Louvre and the Eiffel tower. JJ and I made our way from our morning port of call near Notre Dam to the stop of the Louvre crossing through the gardens and landing at the fabled L'Orangerie museum. JJ had been using her powers off voodoo for the past few days to  convince me to get us there, and finally we had made it in order to see the mind blowing works of French Impressionist Claude Monet and his world reknowned Water Lilly painting series....and yeah, 'it was ok!!?'...lol....In actual fact it was fantastic, and I was more than just a little surprised by their sheer size. They were literally oval rooms that held these paintings and each  painting curbed a quarter of the way around. To me it's times such as these that you wish you knew a little more about the mastery of such artistic concepts and a little less about who scored the winning goal in the last world cup, (Iniesta of Spain by the way, 115th minute, golden strike against the Dutch chokers).

How good is Senor Claude!

Water Lilly series by Claude Monet

Cruising on the Seine for the remaining part of the afternoon our journey took us down by the Eiffel tower and then looped back to our initial stop, Notre Dam. Slowly we made our way back into the Marais district and back onto the Rue Temple de Ville for happy hour whiskey sours at Yono's. This was to be the 'apertif' of sorts, the drinks that would inspire us to gastronomical glory at restaurant Robert and Louise. I prefer it to mention it by it's old name, Chez Robert and Louise, it just sounds cooler. Now this is a place that I was introduced to about 3 yrs ago via the journeys in culinary delights of Anthony Bourdain and his 'No Reservations' show. Having had dinner there a couple of times before I was bouncing around for most of the afternoon in anticipation and had promised Janelle a fantastic evening, 'no reservations', literally.

By the time we had made the house of Robert and Louise we were already buzzing. What you immediately notice about this place is that it's intimate, and then you notice the open fire at the back of the restaurant that had a grill on top of it and realise that this is where you food prep will take place - alright, let the good times roll! We kick off hard, being led out by a Serbian carnivore and assisted by a recovering vegetarian we select the blood sausage, snails and potted pork to start things off. To watch JJ not only contemplate eating these items but actually enjoying them, nah, devouring them, brought a tear to my eye. The blood sausage was exquisite, the potted pork superb and the snails surprisingly good, although I think the later was JJ's favourite.

That's our meal on the go - Chez Robert & Louise - Marais - Paris

Then we hit the main, beef rib for two that had been made right in front of us to the Janelle Jordan ordered style of 'medium rare'...'oh no she didn't'? This damn thing was beautiful, blackened and slightly crisp on the outside, pink to red with a little blood in the middle. This is the type of food that you dream of, it's the answer to the question  of 'Hey, if you were having a last meal, what would you have?' - my friends it would be this...the beef rib from Robbie and Louise's place!! With the glasses of Bordeaux accompanying the meat perfectly it was almost a shame that our stomachs were calling it quits on our behalf, but even the best things come to an end.

It tasted 10 times better than it looks here!

More than satisfied by what both of us ranked as one of the best meals we had had in our own respective histories we criss crossed the streets of the Marais, not intentionally, we were just a little plastered by this stage. Making it home and raiding the freezer for the duty free vodka we purchased in Tanger, we drank our way into the morningonce again. Paris, you just don't have a 'fail' button now do you!? I like that about you!

JJ and I getting our rockstar on

Rockstar hammered - vanquished to the back bars of Paris - never to pull a crowd again!