Kelly à Paris!: 21

So as you may or may not know, this past week was especially exciting because not only was I turning the big two-one, but also because Ms. Teagan was visiting me for the week.

This past Sunday, I got up bright and early to pick up Teagan from Charles De Gaulle Airport. Unfortunately, Like 90 percent of my other journeys through Paris, I was a little late as I overestimated my abilities to navigate the public transportation system—one of these days I’ll get it, hopefully. After aimlessly wandering around the metro where I needed to make a connection, climbing up and down steps with my shamelessly large suitcase, and even jumping a turnstile or two, I found the ticket booth to buy my RER two-way ticket, I was finally on my way.

I found Teagan sitting in the terminal looking oh-so-chic in her Burberry scarf and pea coat. After a hug and some squeals and shrieks, I then told her we might have to do some walking and that we might have to do some stairs to get to the apartment we rented. She looked at me, looked down at her 3 bags and then looked back at me and replied, “how many stairs?” A little side note to this conversation—Paris is likely the worst city in terms of wheelchair accessibility meaning that there are stairs everywhere. There are stairs often in places that really don’t make sense. Stairs taking you up a floor just to take you down a floor so you remain on the exact same floor the entire time. Apartment four floors up—who needs an elevator when you can have stairs?

So after a train ride, two metro transfers and of course, four flights of stairs to the apartment, we finally arrived at our humble abode for the week. A quaint apartment for two in the 15th arrondisement, it was perfect.

After decompressing, we were off to our first adventure. That Sunday we spent our day walking along the Seine throughout St. Michel and the Marais where we saw Cathedral Saint-Chappelle, Notre Dame, the Lock Bridge and much more. I was especially excited because I had yet to see the Lock Bridge since living here. So when we stumbled upon it, I was just taken aback. It was something so simple but for some strange reason, it was breathtaking. Not wanting to splurge on an overpriced lock, we instead enjoyed a nutella-banana crepe with a cappuccino for Teagan and a Café Crème for myself. We finished off the night at a local bistro and then retreated back to the apartment. While Teagan powered through a season of Mad Men, I was able to knock off some internship applications and some homework.

The following day after my classes, Teagan and I headed to the Eiffel Tower just as the sun was setting. We brought two bakery-fresh baguettes with us because a) we knew the bakeries would be closed by the time we got home b) baguettes make for GREAT props during Eiffel tower photo-ops. After the Eiffel tower and narrowly evading some of the crazies/gypsies (some of which kept referring us to Ladies Gaga), we had some guests over and indulged in a makeshift wine & cheese night with charcuterie, fromage and twist-top merlot.

Tuesday marked a pivotal moment in Teagan’s life—it was the first time she tried macaroons, and not just any macaroons, but world-famous Ladurée macaroons. Prior to spoiling ourselves with overpriced baked goods, we ran into a little snafu. We were supposed to head to the Louvre after my classes had finished but, as I forgot to double check the hours beforehand, we quickly learned that the Louvre is closed on Tuesdays. Making a quick game time decision, we made our way to the iconic Arc de Triomphe and then weaved our way down Champs-Elysees.

The following day we made a second attempt at the Louvre and this time we succeeded. Our second trip to the Louvre was definitely worthwhile because with the sun out on Wednesday, the pictures were all the more worthwhile. Like every other tourist, we had one painting in mind—the Mona Lisa. I had forewarned Teagan that the Mona Lisa is well, very underwhelming, just so her expectations wouldn’t be too high for the world’s most famous painting. Upon arriving at the Mona Lisa, we quickly realized that with the throng of tourists, we needed to get aggressive in order to get our absolutely necessary selfie. After throwing an elbow or two, we were able to snap a very blurry pic in front of Ms. Mona. Mission accomplished.

The next part of the day was something I had been waiting for ever since I first heard the phrase ‘world’s best hot chocolate.’ It was time for Café Angelina. Having a ‘little’ bit of a sweet-tooth myself, I felt as if I had been preparing for this meal my entire life. Very overwhelmed and excited, my hands became a little clammy as I awaited my hot chocolate accompanied with a vanilla meufeuille. After one sip, I instantly knew it was everything I had ever wanted.

The next stop on the itinerary was Place de la Concorde and the Tullerie Gardens. Full of extremely rich hot chocolate, we wobbled over to a park bench and sat to observe the Wednesday afternoon commotion at the gardens. Later that day, after my late afternoon classes, we met up with some of my (American) classmates at the Great Canadian Bar to watch Canada vs. Latvia. My birthday came at midnight with a Canadian win under my belt, hot chocolate in my belly, La Seine behind me and Teagan by my side; it was the perfect way to turn 21.

On Thursday, my crazy-rager-party-hardy birthday started like every other 21^st birthday—with some French grammar and a heated discussion on Francois Hollande’s presidency. Teagan then joined my second ‘class’, Paris Museums, in which we visited Galléries Lafayette, Printemps and the Opéra House to discuss the architecture and the aristocratic lifestyle.

That evening marked a rather eventful evening. I had been recommended to this bar called the ‘Violon Dingue’ by one of my classmates as it had a really casual atmosphere and the basement was a cave with lots of dancing, So myself, Teagan and some other friends headed downstairs to the cave bar. Five minutes pass and through continuous sneezes, Teagan looks at me through swollen eyes and murmurs that she doesn’t feel well and is having a reaction to the dust. We then leave the bar, grab a cab, and head back to our apartment. With Teagan’s face getting bigger, and after consulting her parents and her doctor at home, she looks at me and says she might need to go to a hospital. With my adrenaline in high gear I pick up my disposable French phone and find a number for doctors who make emergency house visits. Scrambling to translate ‘rash’ and ‘itchy’ I successfully called a house doctor that would be at our apartment within the next quarter hour. I escorted the doctor up to our apartment, to which he complained about the four floors without an elevator. An adrenaline shot plus a prescription note later, everything had calmed down. The doctor told us not to fret but we should still keep an eye on the situation. After he left and we had both relaxed a little bit. I then looked at Teagan’s very swollen lips and said “most people pay good money for that look” to which we both started to cry we were laughing so hard. It is definitely a 21^st birthday I will never forget.

Not wanting to jeopardize missing some of the sites we had planned for the day before (or missing the Canada-U.S. Olympic hockey game later that night) we were out of the house bright and early, ready to take advantage of our first full day in Paris. We started off the morning walking through the picturesque St. Germain-des-Près and sat down for a coffee at Café Flore. This Café is notable as it was the favorite hang out spot of literary celebrities such as existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir. This café also rivaled “Les Deux Magots” café across the street, which was the watering hole of American writer Ernest Hemingway.

We then headed off to one of my favorite quartiers, Montmarte. Standing beside the beautiful Sacre-Coeur, we were able to see the entire city. And because of Teagan’s knack for bringing beautiful weather, we couldn’t have asked for a better sight. We then trekked through the cobblestone hills of Montmarte and stumbled upon a little café where we passed on the escargot and frogs legs and went for some good ol’ French onion soup. We then finished off our day in Montmarte in front of the famous Moulin Rouge.

The following day was a little more relaxed as we had seen everything we had set out to accomplish. We headed to the Longchamps flagship store so Teagan could get a lil somethin’ somethin’ for her sister and then headed to Les Halles and Centre Pompidou. I really enjoyed Saturday, as we didn’t really have an end goal, we just kept strolling through, going from quartier to quartier. After ending up in Bastille, I realized that it was still very early in the afternoon—and Teagan needed to add at least one more museum to her accomplishment list, so off to the Musée D’Orsay we went! After skimming by some paintings by esteemed artists such as Monet, Degas and Van Gogh, we looked at each other mid-yawn, and then decided we needed a little breather. Let is also be noted that we were both in running shoes and cotton t-shirts. Visiting Paris is hard work!

We ended our very long, memorable, exciting and jam-packed week at a hip little sushi restaurant called ‘Blueberry”, where we had a calm birthday dinner with some of my Lehigh friends and some really really good sushi. After the meal I had the sudden realization that Teagan had yet to try speculose. How could I let her leave Paris without trying speculose?! (Even though it sounds like some skin disease—speculose is actually a very popular graham-cracker spread similar in consistency to peanut butter.) We arrived at a grocery store that was supposed to close at 10:00pm—perfect—we had 17 minutes to spare. Looking down at my watch, I proudly try to open the door. The manager looked at me through the window and pointed to the sign saying that the store closes at 22h (10:00pm) to which I made a gesture towards my watch saying that the store doesn’t close for another 15 minutes, to which he points back at the store hours and shoos us away—ah the French.

I was sad to see Teagan go but I couldn’t have asked for a better and more eventful week! As the saying goes, you only turn 21 once—so why not do it in Paris with your best friend?