Paris, France: Alors, c’est brunch lash demain, n’est-ce pas?

           It’s often that case that when we live somewhere, we forget how truly amazing that place may be. When you’re going through the motions of everyday life, buying groceries, going to the laundromat, or running out for coffee, the city you call home may appear less glamorous than it actually is.

This is how I feel about France. I must admit, I really haven’t taken full advantage of living here. In Europe? Definitely yes. In France? Perhaps not so much. But it only takes one place, one day, or one person, to change that. The past weekend I spent in Paris was that change. In the past 6 months, I have been to Paris four times, but only ever in transit. Spending a full weekend there, with the chance to wander the wide boulevards and gaze at the incredible vistas, has made me fall in love with France all over again. Now, some people will say that Paris is not truly France; it is a place all its own. And while this may definitely be true, the City of Lights emits a spirit of romanticism that is unmistakably and undeniably French.

If I’m being totally honest, my weekend trip to Paris wasn’t spurred so much by a desire to reconnect with the country I now call my home, but rather a need to reconnect with old friends. You see, this past weekend in Paris was somewhat of a mini UVA reunion. With friends coming from London, Brussels, Zurich, Strasbourg and even New York, our small UVA contingent converged on Paris like a blue and orange storm. And let me just say, some French people just don’t know what to expect when we bring wahoo spirit all the way across the Atlantic…

Champs-Elysées at night

As always, my trip started with a train. But this time, it was all fun and games for me. When I originally purchased my ticket, the prices of the first- and second-class tickets were the same. Of course I opted for first-class because when in my stipend-earning career over here will I ever again get to travel in luxury? Never (Hello, Ryanair). With space to stretch my legs and recline my chair, the two-hour trip passed by in what felt like a minute. Familiar with the route to Victoria’s apartment, I hopped onto the metro, and 10 minutes later found myself in the middle of the Champs-Elysées, staring at the Arc de Triomphe. The trees lining the sidewalks, still covered in lights, gave a festive glow to the busy avenue, and light-hearted café-goers laughed as they sipped their evening lattes.

you-vee-ayy

I arrived at Victoria’s around 7pm, giving us ample time to catch up before my scheduled phone interview at 8 (go me). After the interview, we showered, got ready, and prepared a quick meal for the rest of the UVA crowd coming for dinner. Overcooked pesto pasta, tabouleh, hummus, Wasa crackers, and potato chips. I guess you could call it eclectic…Cultural? Not so much. But anything washed down with good bottles of French red wine is fine by me! After a long dinner of reminiscing, catching up, and cracking more than a few jokes, our little UVA crowd was joined by a few more partiers, ready for a night on the town. Around midnight or so, we headed out to Matignon, a club not more than 200 meters from the front door of Victoria’s apartment building. Definitely my type of going out – quick and easy!

Now from spending most of time in the valley and Strasbourg, my body was not exactly equipped for a night out in Paris. My stamina has severely weakened since Strasbourg’s party scene is…well, non-existent. By 3am my feet were aching in my high heels and all I could think about was Victoria’s nice, new IKEA bed waiting for me down the street. It didn’t take anyone too much convincing to get me to go home…

Saturday morning, true to my insomniac form, I was wide-awake at 8am, with not much to do. In the five hours I spent waiting for Victoria to wake up, I watched some Friends episodes, made a little breakfast, and attempted to organize my job-searching life. True to her form, Victoria woke up around 1pm. As my friend’s dad once put it, “I’m not sure anyone in Europe under the age of 25 ever sees the morning.” In most cases, he would be right. I, however, am the miserable exception to that rule.

brunch lash 2011!

I guess you could say that Saturday afternoon was when the real reunion occurred. Back at school, every Sunday, our group of friends would have “brunch lash” – basically an all-day champagne brunch we used as an excuse to delay doing work, continue the weekend partying, hang out all together, and eat a lot of food. In honor of our brunching tradition, we decided to do “Brunch Lash 2011, Paris Style”. And it did not disappoint. Each respective party did quite a bit of shopping before our brunch, and what we ended up with was quite an array of delectable foods and champagne. Coming from Versailles, Nico, Tom, and Paola brought fresh cheeses and meats from the open-air market that were mouth-wateringly good. Victoria and I managed to bring a couple baguettes, 5 bottles of champagne, hummus and crackers, ingredients to make crepes (including nutella, sugar, and honey), more than a few pain au chocolat, and quite a serious number of eggs. When we arrived, we added our loot to the plates of fresh cheese, paté, and rillettes, the growing pile of baguettes, the plates of smoked salmon, salad, and even pancakes. Can anyone say smorgasbord? I think so.

In typical UVA tradition, we started with the champagne. We moved through that pretty quickly, and the late afternoon called for one more jaunt to the wine store. Returning with a magnum of Pol Roger (amongst others) Nico, Julian, Tom, and Paola topped off our glasses, and pumped up the UVA-themed music. No, we did not play the Good Ole Song. I’m not even sure any of us knows the words to that one (tsk tsk), but we did play some Virginian classics like “Wagon Wheel” and “Chicken Fried”. I must tell you, this day, more than anything, made me want to change my plane ticket home so I could make it down to UVA in time for Foxfields. Being over here, I hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but wow, UVA, I miss you.

I got a poster of this Degas painting
for my room

When midnight rolled around, we realized we had been partying for about nine or ten hours. Exhausted from our fête, Victoria and I made our way home, and were sound asleep within twenty minutes of walking through the door. 

Sunday we turned into a cultural day with a trip to my absolute favorite museum in the world, the Musée D’Orsay. Located on the Left Bank, just across the Seine from the Louvre, this old, converted train station is home to some of the most famous, most talked about works of art in the world. Many impressionists and post-impressionists have large parts of their oeuvres here, including Manet, Monet, Sisley, Pissarro, Signac, Degas, Renoir, Seurat, Cézanne, Caillebotte, Gaugin and Van Gogh. Walking the halls of this museum is like flipping through a real-life version of an art history textbook. Leave me alone for a day in Paris, and this is where I will come. I could spend hours wandering around, soaking up the beauty that every artist and painting has to offer.

Eiffel Tower

 the time we finally left, just as the museum was closing, the sun was starting to go down over Paris. The sparkling lights had started on the Eiffel Tower, and the Ferris wheel at Place de la Concorde was lit up against the darkening sky. Wanting to see a little bit more of Paris, we wandered home to Victoria’s apartment instead of riding the metro. We crossed over the Seine just as the twinkling lights appeared, and the beauty of the view down the river is not to be described. I stood rooted to my spot on the bridge; wanting to take in every moment, breathe in every second of this beautiful, amazing city. As cliché as it is, it is truly one of my favorites.

Back at home we made crepes for dinner, and I packed my bags for the journey home to Alsace. I caught a 9:30pm train, and was back in Strasbourg just around midnight. During the whole two hours on the way back, I kept taking out the postcards of Degas, Renoir, Sisley, and Monet works that I had bought from the museum, and simply gazed at their timeless beauty. I knew I had become an art history major for some reason...