As I left the Swiss Embassy I was clearly in a more business section of town. The number of high end cars increased radically, the number of people in business suits with briefcases went through the roof, it was lunch time and they were out doing what they do at lunch.

And it was a very beautiful part of the city. I have several pictures to show in fact.

They are sadly…backward in order. Not even completely backward but all mixed up. Sigh! Oh well…deal with it.

This was taken as I laid down on a big grassy field over by a rather high end restaurant. I desperately wanted to enter these gates but there were police stationed all over here. I heard a rooster crow in there. It made me think of home.

This was that restaurant I mentioned above. Porches, BMW, Mercedes parked out front. Nice.
Funny how I use cars to judge the quality of an area.

This is, a famous building…right across the bridge. This is the far side of it up Rue de Winston Churchill.

As I left the embassy I entered a giant park…stretched for a very long distance. Guess I was closer to the tower than I thought! I tossed around the idea of walking over…but today was the Louvre so I skipped it.

This is the front of the famous building. Don’t ask me the name because I didn’t write it down. Like most historical places in Paris it was undergoing massive cleanup.

This was at the bottom of the park, south of the river. It was another tempting place to examine…but no, another day.

This was along the bridge and approaching Churchill Street. There were many columns and carved statues along this area…all gilded like that. The absolutely sparkled in the sunshine. I marveled like…well…a tourist.

“We shall never give up, we shall never surrender”.
Amazing man.

From the Embassy I cruised up along the park, over the bridge…and headed east towards the Louvre. When I got to the rooster fence I entered a beautiful park…so quiet and, well, fun. There were people everywhere…eating, laughing, playing in sprinklers. No homeless asking for change, no litter on the ground. It was just delightful.

However…there was a MASSIVE police presence in this area. In fact, as I left the park and started into the high end tourist area…I came across a heavily guarded building. Police were stationed all around armed with serious looking sub-machine guns. I didn’t linger nor take pictures. I walked…

And walked…

And dear lord I walked some more.

Soon I was in Tourist Heaven. The street was lined with such a variety of places. I could have bought t-shirts, caviar, tours, Eiffel Tower pencil sharpeners, Tour de France jerseys, thongs (with PARIS! with glitter on them), even silver by the pound. I could have possibly made some money exchanging various currencies from the exchanges that were everywhere. Everything was much more expensive too…and the tourists…UGH. Yes, I am one of them but YOW it was packed. I’ve never heard so many different languages spoken. I was bumped, jostled, nearly run over, spilled on, sweated on, and just generally bothered by it all.

I needed food.

And I sorta got it.

I’m really tempted to skip this whole bit. Really I am. It was awful. Screw it…you deserve to know…

Le Carrousel.

Don’t go there.

It was one of the busier places along the street, and towards the tail end of the district. I knew the Louvre was right around the corner so I figured a full meal would help me make it through the vast halls.

It was “seat where you want”, so I tucked myself in a corner where I could quietly sweat for a bit. Long bloody walk, high bloody humidity.

After a long wait (not a big deal, used to it now) my waiter came over. The menu was complex…but repeated most things in decent English. I again went with a two item meal…entree (starter) and plat (entree). Funny huh?

Anyway I started with a terrine champagne. I know what a terrine is…pretty much a very fancy meatloaf. Technically it is a forcemeat cooked in a mold, and a classic buffet item. Quite often it has fois gras or other items.

Mine was made with dog food.

A dog food pate, very cold…with pickles on the side. There was also some very unhappy lettuce, an extremely old tomato…and the most half ass attempt at a field green garnish I have ever seen in my life. It was brown on the edges. I was seriously unhappy. I ate most of it though.

Note…avoid bread sometimes. As I sat and watched the waiters they would bring the uneaten bread from the tables and dump it in a basket. Then when a new table came in they would scoop it up, bare hands, and drop it in a basket. The bread had been cut so long ago that it was all completely hard. Awful.

I sat and cried silently as the waiters, and cooks, stood…in the kitchen…and smoked. They made some cell phone calls. One waiter sneezed, rubbed his hands on his pants, and grabbed more bread.

I stopped eating bread at that point.

The second course (and final thank god) was a turkey filet…overcooked…with sauce Normandy and a giant pile of fries. The garnish actually made me laugh out loud. It consisted of a sad cucumber round with two tomato skins next to it. Yes…just skins. Old mildly crinkly at the edge skins.

The sauce was so similar to a “just add water” powder that I have made the mistake of trying myself in the past. The turkey breast, though still moist, was way over done on the edges. The fries however were excellent and I ate them all…eventually scooting them out of the sauce so I could actually enjoy them.

Alas, we can’t always win.

After lunch…the Louvre. And after the Louvre a loooong walk back here.

It all felt great though. I accomplished two very important things today…and have very little time in Paris left.

Despite the tourist annoyances (see above post) and despite the horrid lunch (see above post) I absolutely had to go that most famous of famous museums…The Louvre.

First I have to get this out of the way. I don’t want this to ruin the readers experience of my experience. So I must say it now.

People do NOT stop and STAND and look at your STUPID MAPS right in the middle of a walkway! I cannot stress this enough. I swear I was ready to kick some ASS. Ugh!

Alright…

I’m done with that.

The Louvre is immense. It is, just as I was told, far too massive to see in one day. So I focused on two sections…ancient Greek and Egyptian artifacts and statues. Yes…I didn’t see the Mona Lisa. I apologize. I saw some very cool paintings of Paris from way back when…which were fantastic.

But soon I found myself wandering through halls of ancient art. I mean seriously ancient…BC type things from Egypt.

I simply wasn’t prepared for what my eyes beheld.

In all my life, through years of Discovery and TLC and History Channel I had never imagined the level of detail that these items possessed. Obviously some artifacts were damaged by time and weather…and people. Some were obviously crafted by unskilled hands. But some…the detail…the tiny fine lines around a 1500 year old stone relief of a woman holding grain, the intricate carving of a bulls head…cut out of granite…burried in the desert for untold centuries…it was almost more than I could handle. I would literally spend 15 minutes looking at one carving, imaging the time it took, the tools, the patience, the care… I was simply lost in a world of antiquity. I felt honored that these people, from days so long past, would be willing to share something like that with me.

I initially wanted to take pictures of EVERYTHING. Then I tried to settle on things that I though would identify with specific family members and friends. But soon I was hopelessly (rather hopefully) lost in trying to absorb as much as my mind could consume.

I found myself reaching out to objects…wanting to touch them. Wanting to feel stone that had been so meticulously cared for and carved…handled…burried…discovered…handled…moved… My hands would brush glass involuntarily as I thought of someone holding that tiny piece of marble, or jade, or wood. I wanted to hold it. I wanted to experience what it was like.

I was filled with a sense of…well…of a lack of place in the world. Where was my lasting contribution? Will someone, a thousand years from now, find something of mine and ponder its meaning…its use…its reason for being?

Then I thought…perhaps I have. Perhaps some silly thing I made in boy scouts, or a piece of refridgerator art in a parents drawer, or picture taken on this very trip…will somehow survive the test of time.

And all was good with the world.

It was very interesting to see the contrast in craftsmanship in the items I saw. Some, obviously utilitarian. Some obviously were practice or by children. Some looked to be made by gods.

But as I moved through Egypt and Greece…through Mesopotamia and Sumaria…I came to statues made in the late 1700s-late 1800s. They were impressive…huge blocks of various stone carved down to minute detail.

But I thought…so what?

OK, so I couldn’t possibly create what those artists created. They captures aspects of the human form that even photographs don’t show. The veins on a mans arm as he fights a serpent…the folds of a woman’s gown as she picks grapes. The curls in the hair of a Baron or King. All beyond my capabilities.

But then I thought of the items…the items that were twice the age. I thought about them and said to myself…well hell, these are just bigger. Impressive for sure…but to me, they simply don’t hold that “presence” that the more ancient objects do.

Here are some pictures…that do absolutely NO justice to what I saw. Enjoy them for what they represent…not for what they are.

FYI I have the full size ones should anyone want them emailed.

This one came out very well I think. It was Greek, and beautiful.

I found this interesting. It was massive…several feet high and even more across. But someone, clearly, had deafest this one section (and a bit of another). I stared for a while at it…wondering what the story was. I doubt we will every know.

Cats. Who doesn’t love cats?

This was found, I believe, in Greece somewhere, I think closer to present day Jordan. I found it strikingly similar to pre-Columbian South American carvings. It really made me wonder.

Oh how I wish this came out better!! The detail on these tiny items…that oval one in the center is about 1.5 inches long…the detail was astounding. I touched the glass by mistake.

I made it. I got there just in time. Oddly enough they have the same hours as the SF consulate…from 9 to 12. I got there at 11:30.

You may be asking why I cut it so very painfully close. Trust me, it wasn’t intentional. I got up early and checked up here, took a quick shower…moved rooms (I decided to stay at this hotel for my last 2 days in Paris) and asked the very nice lady downstairs for directions.

After walking to the nearest metro (subway) station that had a line to get where I needed, and after trying to figure out how to deal with the whole thing…I got on my train and was on my way lightening fast. The metro here makes a thousand stops but runs very quickly…I was impressed.

I got out and suddenly…uh…where the hell am I? It appeared I was in more of a tourist area…a budget tourist area…due to the massive amount of backpack folk. FYI I was on the direct south side of the river, just West of that rather famous cathedral.

I knew it was getting urgent time wise so, foolishly, I quickly glanced at the map and started walking briskly.

Note to self and other would be travelers: If there is some place you NEED to go by X time, be sure you know how to get there WELL in advance.

In other words…I walked the wrong direction. I walked the wrong direction for quite a while in fact. I eventually gave up and nabbed a taxi…which got me to the embassy with 20 minutes to spare.

I get buzzed in and here is where the real story begins.

Not being able to speak French is an issue at times. This was one of those times. Not knowing this embassy’s protocol, and me not being able to explain my situation hinders the process tremendous.

My situation was a touch complex. I had applied for my visa in SF at the consulate, but they were unable to process it completely before I left. So they instructed me to go to the Swiss Embassy in Paris to pick it up when I can. My little French language guide book is simply not prepared to explain that.

Thankfully a woman there spoke enough English to help translate, I ended up filling out a form, giving the embassy official my passport and form…with 5 minutes to spare. Yes, they are THAT serious about the timing of things.

She gave me a square metal card…magnetic on the back…with the number 77 on it and instructions in French.

It gets stranger.

Without a doubt the waiting room at the embassy is the most modern structure I have seen in Paris. Glass tables, odd furniture, an extreme multitude of plugs in the walls, very “modern” art…and a strange sign on the wall. I’ll get to that later.

Perhaps it was nerves…this is my second to last step in the journey to Switzerland. Perhaps it’s the lack of sleep. Perhaps it was the ultra modern decor…but I was on edge. This place was so…different. Like strange different. Like maybe I should just get the hell out of their before something utterly incomprehensible happens.

Let’s get to the card and the sign.

The way it works is that the sign on the wall tells you, the number bearer, what room to go to.

Here is the sign.

Obviously someone who has a Masters in Advanced Efficiency or perhaps an escaped mental patient who stopped taking their meds YEARS ago designed it and the system. I’m thinking it was probably both.

I patiently sat and waited. Numbers would change on the wall…people would go upstairs. I swear to you that less people came down than went up.

As I sat and contemplated being #77 I started to think…maybe I applied for citizenship? Maybe, once I get up there, they are going to give me some sort of ultra-modern future jumpsuit and ship me off to a watch factory in Lucern. I kept my pen in hand…ready to fill out more forms (I was prepared to have to fill out a form just to leave that place) and also as a possible weapon to defend myself against smiling efficient Swiss.

In fact, at that moment, something came to mind. I AM in Switzerland. The embassy is part of their country. Dear lord they have my passport! I’m doomed.

Both the SF consulate and the Paris embassy had bullet proof glass separating the employees from the population. Spider senses were tingling.

All of a sudden everything became surreal and questionable. Why is the card magnetic? Why are there…literally…6 plugs on a 5 foot wall…and 12 on the other? What sort of crap do they plug in here??

I was now alone. My helper lady had gone upstairs to be…Swissed. I smiled politely. She may have been a robot.

Eventually my number popped up. Pen-weapon-form filler grasped tightly in my hand I went up stairs. I found room A…another glass box with 2 inch ballistics glass sealing me in.

Turns out all is A-OK. I’ve got a pretty new sticker in my passport giving me up to 8 days from today to enter Switzerland. After that the school issues me a visa to let me stay in country. The lady in there explained it all very clearly and nicely. She had pictures of fish on her wall…like ancient fish. What kind of lunatic country am I going to?

Time will tell, and I’m keeping my pen handy.

I saw my 2nd…maybe 3rd…obviously overweight French woman today. Funny thing was as I sat looking out the window at the restaurant I saw many more portly folk. McDonald’s was right next door…coincidence? I think not!

I must have been in a “different” part of town (although it was very close to my hotel) because there were a lot of…well…differences. A lot more cop activity for one. Late at night I hear distant sirens and I’m guessing this is where they were from.

Some places do have smoking vs non-smoking sections…but I think they just ask Americans. I could have stabbed at least two couples with a fork they were smoking that close to me, and I was in the non-smoking section. Funny how it didn’t bother me until today. God my clothes must stink.

Car observations:
I’ve seen no Subaru’s. Not one. Not a single freaking one. I’m pretty sure that is the only car company I know of that I haven’t seen represented here in one shape or form (and there are some REALLY strange forms).
But I did see…rather hear…and Aston Martin today. A new one. I was in my room and heard that serious V8 rip and had to poke my head out the window. It was black, big, bad ass, and beautiful. I wanted to touch it. Screw that…I wanted to DRIVE it!

Service is slow. Sure I’m jaded by having been a server before…I’m always thinking that my waiter/waitress is slow vs my standards. But service is extremely slow. And tonight I saw what happens when Americans get pissed (or just people in general, sorry to pick on us…)

A gentleman comes into the restaurant and is seated near me. When he orders I hear him speaking in English…American English. No biggie. He orders a drink and food. His drink takes a while…so he bugs the waiter about bringing bread. The waiter brings bread. As I’m eating he is starting to moan, huff, look around, shift around in his chair. He’s obviously distressed. So he flags down a waitress at a table near us. She just happens to speak perfect English too.

He tells her that the waiter hasn’t taken his order yet and he wants to pay for his coke and leave. She apologizes, gets him a bill for the coke, and he pays and bails.

You know what? He DID order! I heard him talk to the waiter…who spoke French…so there was a mild communication issue. But he ORDERED! Ugh!

I couldn’t belive it…flat out lied. I mean totally and obviously lied.

Dude…that guys sucks.

I played a game with a table of French people too. I was flying solo and didn’t bring a book with me…so after playing with my camera, the salt and pepper shakers, stirring my drink a lot, re-arranging my silverware…I got bored. So I watched them. They of course noticed me watching them and started watching me. I played it coy and watched them only when they weren’t watching me. I’m not very good at being coy so it eventually escalated into pure open eyed staring. The dude was skinny…I totally coulda took him down.

It’s raining outside and uncomfortably muggy. I’d trade my air guitar, freshly sink washed socks and my silent cigarettes for A/C. But I’m happy to sit at the window and look.

Tonight, fairly late, I ventured out for a much needed “real” dinner.

OK, that’s not entirely true. I saw a McDonald’s today. And I thought a quick nab of good (yeah yeah) ‘ol American food would be a good thing.

So I walked over…walked in…and walked out. The menu was complex (yes folks, a Royal with cheese…but no Le Big Mac), the line was long, and considering I can only count to three in French the idea of scrambling to figure out what the numbers for the orders were…my only hope was that I’d be order 1, 2 or 3…so I bailed.

So instead I ended up at another place (which shall remain nameless until the end).

Bit of background info for you folks….

I used to work at the Blackhawk Grille in Blackhawk (Danville/San Ramon). It was both a wonderful experience as well as extremely educational. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t gotten to work their first. Granted they started me off as a food runner…but hey, they thought I was 20! Geeze!

Anyway…Blackhawk takes their food very seriously. During our shift meetings the chefs would talk about the massive amount of steps that it took to prepare something a simple as butter beans. That’s a side folks…not even the entree. The product we got into that place was so carefully looked after, thought over, prepared and presented with such high esteem that it…well…ruined me. Every time I sit down at a place that has cloth napkins I instantly start comparing. Is that server as good? Is that host as efficient? (Note I did NOT say hostess! I was the only male host at Blackhawk…bah). Is the table set up as nicely? Compare compare!

And let me tell you…it is extremely dificult to live up to Blackhawk’s standards. In fact I’ve yet to be as impressed by another restaurant. Perhaps it was because I had such inside knowledge of the steps taken to make EVERYTHING perfect (did you know we went through all the tables before service to align the place settings…so everything was even from all directions INCLUDING from table to table? So next time you bump a table and knock a glass askew…you should feel worse you heathens!) But regardless…the quality from stem to stern will always be a yardstick for me. It will be a tough act to follow.

So let’s begin…

The menu looked pretty exciting. It was a combination of Italian and French…all very classic fare…with a decent wine selection. This was, however, a place that catered to those looking for a fine dining experience on a budget.

I ended up going with the two course dinner for 16.90 Euros. You had about 6ish choices for a starter and 6ish for an entree.

Without going on too much of a tangent…they obviously cater to Americans. Not only was the menu in English (not completely, but most of it)…but there were at least 3 American couples seated around me.

I ordered a small coke (came in a bottle…33cl for 3.95), a glass of Muscat de Beaumes de Venise AOC (10cl for 3.95).

My first course was Fois Gras with a fig and pear compote with Seville oranges, served with toasted brioche, Guerande salt and pepper.

It was alright. Not fantastic. The fois gras was a bit too cold, the brioche should have been toasted just a touch longer, and the compote was much too strong in flavor to go with the fois…or the fois just wasn’t nearly rich enough. But it was wonderful being able to eat stuff like that again. And those of you who have words for me about those poor ducks…cry me a river.

The next course was risotto with saffron cream and sauted salmon.

Right off the bat, the plate was beautiful. I didn’t want to use the flash in there and have people give me the “what the hell are you taking pictures of food for” eye…so you’ll have to deal with this as is. But it was a slate grey edge with a striking brick red center. I almost stole it. But what would I do with only one?

The salmon was sauted with shallots and a red wine reduction…seriously reduced au sec. It was fantastic…full of flavors with just enough of the salmon to it so you’d pick it up with every bite. It wasn’t a filet, which is understandable considering the cooking method…but there were still large pieces that were still firm without being dry. Excellent.

The risotto…well…meh. It was more of just rice and saffron, as I never really got the cream sensation from a quality made risotto. It was all cooked completely…not dry per say, just didn’t “flow” around the bowl like it should have. To be honest it was more like a box type risotto…that someone didn’t pay attention to.

Perhaps this is a classic dish…prepared exactly this way…but honestly it didn’t go very well together. At least it didn’t as far as a mouthful of both salmon and risotto at the same time…you know what I mean? As two separate dishes on a plate with…say…haricot verts…it would have been excellent. Together? A bit odd.

On the table they put one of those pizza place parm shakers. I found that to be extremely out of place. However, as an American, I instantly associate them with pizza…so perhaps I am biased. But adding the parm to the dish did help meld the flavors more agreeably.

The Muscat, however, was excellent. Very rich on the tongue yet silky…not cloying at all (well, a little…but for the price I won’t downgrade it). It would have been perfect had the whole dinner been richer. Fois gras, salmon and risotto should be RICH…this simply was not.

The risotto I’ve had a Blackhawk has always been worlds better, same with any fois gras dishes. Of course this is a bit of apples vs oranges here…but still, similar styles get compared. Deal with it world. However the salmon itself was fantastic and something I’d like to do myself…just a touch less au sec.

For the price of everything it was very good…but honestly I would have preferred to spend the money on something a little more downscale and honest instead of upscale and not loved by the kitchen.

Two more things here…they had all you could eat carpaccio. Yep, an “endless plate”. Eep!

And the restaurant was called Bistro Romain. It’s a chain…a pretty big one at that it seems. I didn’t want to mention that off the bat, I wanted to talk more about the food. Oh well.

Oh yeah…sorry I didn’t check out desserts Bill…but I knew they wouldn’t stand a chance ;)