Paris, we are here

To Paris June 15th

The unexpected leisure of the slow train to Paris was lovely. How different than the NJTransit to NY. People get off and on efficiently and there is nary a cell phone in sight, it is almost whisper quiet the entire four hours with just little dogs emitting a small peep when stepped on or cats quietly purring in  cat backpacks-very unKardashian looking at that.

Last stop, Gare de Lyon, an efficient train station where before hoping in a cab we were to call our apartment concierge, Luz, to meet us and show us around. But how to find the pay phone? Find the information booth. How to ask for a phone booth? Check the Rick Steve's French words book. How to use the phone after making sure we were armed with coins? No can do, only takes phone cards. How to buy a phone card?  Find the tabac in the station. How much is a card that we only need to use once?   7 1/2 Euros. Does that seem to fit our budget? No. The how do you make a call without a phone? 

The answer is that a lovely woman who speaks some English standing next to you helping you talk to the clerk at the tabac offers you her cell to call.  You call  and then hop in a cab and voila 15 minutes and 20 Euros later you arrive in the Marais at 8 rue du Roi de Sicile and use the front door code to get in. 

As I open the front door, I hear Steve's thoughts loud and clear.  He is saying two things. The first is, this looks derelict, the paint is peeling, the stairs are worn, what kind of place did Marci rent??? 

Wait, the stairs, not only are they crappy, small, windy, narrow, twisty and steep....they appear to be the only way up with these two heavy bags.  Strike  2 for Marci's rental.

But voila, the lovely Dave hears us, gets our luggage (luckily he is a much younger guy) and whisks us in to a delightful apartment and after showing us where everything is and how everything works, he dashes off to get us a few supplies including coffee for the morning. 

It takes us about seven minutes to feel at home and we immediately love the spaciousness (my one fear was that the online photos made the place look much larger than it was and I had prepared Steve for a minuscule Paris pad unnecessarily). We unpack-actually really unpack with closets, drawers, bathroom cabinets and shelves, places to keep our iPads and kindle and travel books, we hang all five scarves and pocketbooks and backpacks on the coatrack, it is cooler here so we put on a scarf to look more Parisian (yes absolutely positively at least 50% of ALL women everyday regardless of weather or dress really do wear scarves) and dive head long into a Saturday stroll in the Marais. 

Lunch is savory crepes and cider, 

shopping is divine, the Place des Voges just as beautiful as always. We stop at the marche down the block for the kitchen essentials, wine, butter and cheese and head back to our new home to relax, listen to the sound of the streets through the open 12' windows and enjoy that bottle of Cote du Rhone.