#three years later you meet as tourist in an european ... mall

[hideyseek]

what. ? !

[bike42]

LONDON September 11-15, 2019

Wednesday September 11, 2019

Up early to catch the Eurostar train to London. It was still a bit dark as we went out for our last walk to the Metro. Felt kind of sad to me leaving the neighborhood we’ve grown to be so comfortable in!

Back on the RER-B to Gare Nord, then a bit of stumbling around to find the Eurostar terminal (I’d seen the signs when we came through on the RER last week, but for awhile this am they evaded me). We practically had to leave, and then come back in. I thought back to 4 years ago when my folks got off our train to catch the Eurostar and we headed to Burgundy. Fun memories.

We got through passport control ahead of the crowd, and settled in to wait with a coffee shop breakfast. Soon it was time to board, stowing our big suitcases on our own like you do on European trains. Very comfortable ride, through the flat Normandy countryside nearly to the Belgium border. Then we were in the “Chunnel,” but it sure wasn’t for long. 50 kilometers and no idea what speed, but we covered the distance fast and soon we were at the main train terminal in London, ————————-.

Down to the Underground, where I struggled a bit with the Ticket machine again (this time it was the machine). We bought day long tickets as we are unsure what we’ll be doing over the next days when Jeff joins us.

Found the Piccadilly line with no issues, and rode that to the South Kensington stop which was closest to our accommodations (we later learned that if we’d transferred to a different line we’d be closer, but it was great to get out and walk anyway). It was about a mile to our “hotel,” and a beautiful day. We walked through neighborhoods of high end multilevel houses (brownstones), schools, and several embassies (Iran, Bulgaria to name a few). Past the “Queens Gate” entrance to Hyde Park and on towards High Kensington and a shopping area, arriving at our destination about 11am.

We really didn’t know what to expect for these accommodations. We turned the corner and I was feeling hopeful, as it looked like the address would be one of these brownstones. There were signs that said “parking for embassy only.” However, as we walked down the street, the degree of renovation quickly declined. We entered number 58 as the door was open. We found a desk, with no one around, but heard a child up a few floors .... so we stood there for awhile, occasionally yelling out “hello!” Eventually, a tall thin elderly man with a little grey pony tail appeared. I didn’t get his name, but he was our guy.

Good news was he had our reservation, was expecting us and our room was ready. The good news really stops there. The rest wasn’t bad news, just odd. He said his lift was broken (the guy was expected today, which I believe was not truthful but inconsequential), and our room was #13 on the top floor. We said no problem and lugged our bags to the top floor.

Let me segue back to trip planning. I booked the plane tickets, and then I booked the Paris accommodation with credit card points. I knew where it’d be best for us to stay location-wise there, and found a decent 3 star hotel that wasn’t luxurious, and worked out just fine. For London, I wasn’t sure about the various parts of town and Bailey and I researched this one together. We found a big price difference between 3 star and 4 star, so we kept to the 3 star category and since Jeff was joining us here, we searched for 2 beds and 2 baths just to see what we’d get. We found this Kensington Apartment. It had one terrible review, and several fairly good reviews. What made it a little iffy was no photos, but we went for it anyway. We booked it with the remaining credit card points, and about $300 from what I recall.

So we dragged our bags to the top floor up the narrow stair case, arriving sweating so badly and out of breath. It was old, but not too bad looking. Two bedrooms, one with a double bed and one with two twins that had a bathroom en-suite. Opening other doors revealed a dinning room and kitchen, but not the other bathroom.

I checked my reservation and went back downstairs and asked the man about the second bathroom. He said “oh,” and confirmed on his copy of the reservation that we had requested two bathrooms. He said, “well, there is a second bathroom down one landing or I have a three bedroom with two bathrooms in the basement.” He took me down to look at that and I thought at first glance that would be a better option so we hauled our bags back down and got settled there. In reality, the basement apartment had a pretty big yuck factor, so we should have stayed upstairs. But it worked, we just limited the time we spent there! It was more efficient with Bailey having a tiny little bathroom of her own (good thing she’s tiny too).

We got settled and headed out. We decided to shop today, since it’s unlikely shopping would be on Jeff’s desired list of things he wanted to do! Our first stop was Harrods, and it was just about a mile from our place and we decided to walk and enjoy the day. It’s really a remarkable store, however we weren’t inspired to buy anything. They had a Christmas department set up already, and my one regret was I didn’t buy an ornament for a souvenir (I’m sure I can order a little red bus on Amazon)!

We started walking back just heading in what should have been the general direction, but got trapped in a beautiful little gated neighborhood and probably walked about a mile before we got back to the main drag. Then we were at a bus stop and I recalled Rick Steves talking about bus #9 being a direct route between Kensington and the tourist area and there it was, so we jumped on (our day tickets worked on the bus too). We rode back to near our place and then shopped there a bit in stores more in our price range (they had a TJMaxx, but it was TKMaxx, one of our favorite stores anyway!). There was also a Whole Foods and I was tempted to stock up on foods for our breakfasts, but the ick factor of our place stopped me from doing that!

Back just to drop off our purchases, then back on bus #9 going in the opposite direction, through Piccadilly square. We got off at Trafalgar Square and just stood for a bit trying to process the madness! We walked around a bit, and found ourselves down on the bank of the Thames. We’d passed a half dozen pubs, so we wandered back and chose one.

It was just after 5pm, and we were close to Parliament. Jeff was in Washington DC these past few days and I marveled at the similarities, figuring the young professionals gathering in the pub were “running” London’s government, similar to the way ours is “run” by very many bright but young aides!

We found a small table and drank Guinness and ate fish & chips (I had a burger) and just soaked up the atmosphere - what a great introduction to London!

We left about 7pm and walked down “the mall” towards Buckingham Palace. It was a gorgeous evening, and the clouds were spectacular. Lots of people out, walking and biking, or tourists like us just looking at the palace. From there we walked though Green Park. It was getting dark and we were tired. We came out by a bus stop and we were thrilled to see #9 coming down the road! Quick ride back to the apartment. We walked over 12 miles today which should help with sleeping in less than ideal accommodations.

Thursday September 12

JT arrived early this morning, just after 6am. I set my alarm to meet him at the Underground station. He’d gotten some advice to ride the faster train from Heathrow to Paddington Station, so he ended up going a bit out of the way. But eventually he was there in the crowd emerging from the train and I was so happy to see him! It was fun people watching as I waited - people rushing to work, kids off to school and especially some of the little ones in their adorable school uniforms. There was a woman handing out “stop Brexit” leaflets and people either ignored her (most) or encouraged her (2nd most) or swore at her!

As Jeff was negotiating the transportation scene, he bought “Oyster Cards” for each of us, reloadable cards to use on the buses and trains.

Jeff and I walked back towards our apartment, stopping at Whole Foods to pick up fruit, yogurt and baked goods for breakfast, then to Starbucks to get coffee and back to see if Bailey was up.

We ate breakfast, I had a shower and Jeff had a quick nap, and by 11am we were back on the streets. We bought a combo ticket for Big Bus tour and Tower of London, and caught the bus right by our Starbucks (Kensington Palace stop). We rode the blue route through Notting Hill and Paddington - the coolest thing we saw were the pubs! They’re the most colorful beautifully bedecked buildings in town! There was a little drizzle, but not enough to make us leave the bus top (we’d had just a bit of this yesterday too - not enough for umbrella).

We’d gone around the other side of Hyde Park, and got out at Speakers Corner where the only action happening looked like set up for a weekend music festival. We switched to the red route, which took us all around the tourist sites, along the Thames, through the town of London (business part) and eventually over the Tower Bridge to the Tower of London. We were in luck as a guided tour (Spike the Beefeater) was just about to begin.

I’m not a big follower of royalty, and don’t know a lot of Britain’s history, but what I learned at the Tower was shocking. Jeff and I watched the entire Game of Thrones series last year, and it was gruesome and gory. But the stories that Spike told us were shocking, and it was Game of Thrones without the sex scenes (those probably existed by Spike didn’t talk about them).

Lots of beheading and other executions. After beheading, they’d put the head on a stick and parade it around town as a lesson to others of what could happen. Yikes. They beheaded queens, mothers of kings, ladies in waiting. Two little princes were probably killed by a jealous uncle who hid their bodies.

Another mind blowing thing was they had all these exotic animals living there from all over the world: polar bear, monkeys, lions, elephant snakes. Also “Game of Throne” like was they’d built a viewing stand and they’d have animals fight to the death for sport. The animals killed people - children! Unbelievable! Eventually they got smart enough and made a Zoo for the animals (and hopefully kept them away from the people). Many of them were given to the royalty as gifts. Crazy to think of the globalness of the world in those days, but England was all over the place claiming territories!

Spike was a great guide, and was emotional as he explained to us that he’s not a guide and his uniform was not just a costume. He’d served 35 years in the military and was chosen to be a member of the Queens Guard and what an honor it was. He lives at the Tower with his family and fellow Beefeaters.

He was funny and picked on an English kid in the crowd for not knowing his history (an American answered his question)! He was also a good sport and was kidding us Americans about how good our life could be if we’d have just paid our taxes in 1776. On their uniform they all have the QE II monogram (E II R), some one asked his if that would change when Elizabeth died and Charles becomes King. He said yes, but no one know what it’ll change to yet as Charles gets to pick his name?! Spike thought he’s unlikely to stay with Charles, as things didn’t end well for Charles I or Charles II. Enough to make me know I really don’t understand this royalty stuff and I’m ok with that.

We also toured the Crown Jewels exhibit. Unbelievable. All that pomp and circumstance!

Our Big Bus ticket allowed us to take a boat back from the Tower to the main Tourist area, so we did that, and had a jolly guide entertain us with stories along the way.

By then it was after 5 pm and Jeff was starting to fade from the overnight flight! We poked through a few pubs until we found a table and ordered Guinness and pub food: fish & chips for me, burger for Bailey and chicken for JT.

After that, we walked along the mall and through Green Park again, hoping to catch the Big Bus back to our place. It dawned on me that we were probably past the time our tickets allowed and they’d be into their night route now. Just then, our faithful bus #9 appeared and brought us back.

Friday September 13

Jeff and I were up early so we went out for a 3 mile walk through Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park - absolutely gorgeous morning. Lots of runners and dog walkers in the park, cyclists traveling fast like they’re cutting through on their morning commute. Back to Whole Foods to pick up breakfast for the day. Today we realized they had premixed yogurt concoctions and hot breakfasts (poached egg over potatoes and beans) as well as a coffee bar, so we did “one stop shopping” for breakfast and skipped Starbucks.

Today was museum day, and we rode bus #9 to Trafalgar Square to go to the National Gallery. It’s an extensive art collection, and we staggered through three of the four wings, and skipped the really old stuff. We started with the 1600-1700’s: Vermeer, Velazquez, Rembrandt, Rubens, Van Dyck. Next was 1700-1930: Turner, Constable, Stubbs, Monet, Van Gogh and Seurat. Then looped back through 1500-1600’s (kind of dull to do that last!). Besides the amazing works, the gallery itself was a work of art. A beautiful building, and the galleries arranged nicely without crowding so we could really enjoy to art and talk about each one. There were several students there sketching, and one young man there painting (and occasionally stomping off to judge his work from a distance). It was also fun again to see how much Bailey knew about many of the paintings from classes she’d taken. It seemed like it was a real thrill for her to be seeing them in real life.

We went from the gallery out into the madness of Trafalgar Square. We watched a few sidewalk chalk artists, and a few not so great performers, then headed off.

Bailey really wanted to see the Tate galleries, but we knew we just had time for one so she chose Tate Modern. I discovered a cool thing on Google Map that when you choose the “public transportation” option, it gives real specific details about the Underground, locations, how to get there, which train to take, etc - super helpful! We took a line to Waterloo, then another to Jubilee, then about a 5 minute walk to the Tate Modern on the opposite bank of the Thames.

Admission to the general gallery was again just suggested donation, but you needed tickets for the special exhibitions. Bailey really wanted to see the Olafur Eliasson exhibit, but the available tickets would have been too late by the time we arrived. We spent two hours touring the rest of the art. Some were very interesting, some were questionable to me that they were art?! Something for everyone, they even had a very large Monet water nymphs!

What a contract between the two galleries! Most of the older paintings depict biblical scenes and “taught” the stories of the Bible to people when most were illiterate; someone’s interpretation of bible stories no doubt. And then modern art, again much left to interpretation!

We left there exhausted (Jeff left before us to find a place to veg out), popped into a Starbucks for a frappe to perk us up for the rest of the night.

Back to Google Maps to lead us back under the river and to the Theater district (Covent Gardens). I thought I was following the map to the theater to pick up out tickets at will-call, but my orientation was off and we did a bit of a tour of the district first!

Jeff suggested we see a play while we were here - great idea! We settled on “Mousetrap” which is an Agatha Christie play which has been in continuous showing since 1952 (at the perfectly suited St Martin Theater, which was old and not unlike our apartment - a little dank and musty with squeaky chairs!).

We picked up the tickets and headed to a nearby pub for dinner, Guinness for the girls, Fish & Chips for Bailey, Jeff and I each had Steak and Ale pie - yum! We sat in a quiet room in the back, and there was a large screen TV with a cricket match on. Jeff pulled up basic information about cricket on his phone and we tried to make sense of the game. We had a fun moment when a young man brought us our food and Jeff said “oh good, you can explain this to us!” He said he had no idea, didn’t understand it himself! Hmmm, thought it should have been trained in their upbringing! So we’ll leave London still not understanding cricket.

Then back to the theater. Fabulous show, and we’ve been sworn to secrecy about “who done it.”

Walked back to what I consider the main drag (with changing names). Fun to walk through the Friday night scene, and great to see bus #9 coming to collect us and deposit us back at our stop just after 11pm.

Saturday September 14

We all slept in a bit. Bailey and I are exhausted from 10 days of being tourists, and JT doesn’t know what time zone he is in! We got ready for the day and had breakfast at a little French cafe around the corner. At 10:30a we were on bus #9, heading down to watch the Changing of the Queens Life Guards (on horse back). As we were passing by Hyde Park corner on the bus, we saw 8 mounted guards riding towards Buckingham Palace, there they’d turn and head up the mall. We rode the bus through Piccadilly Circus, then got off and race-walked towards the parade grounds. Perfect timing to see them ride past us, as when they got to the grounds there was a mob of tourists, many Asians with guides with speaker/headsets that were just obnoxious!

We saw a bit, and even though I’d googled it, I couldn’t quite figure out what was happening!

We were perfectly located as we had noon tickets to enter Churchill’s War Rooms. We spent three hours in there - an amazing display and history of his life, and a glimpse of the underground bunker from which they directed their war action from 1940-1945. Besides offices and sleeping quarters, there was a small kitchen, a map room, a radio room, a telephone exchange, and a secretary pool. We did the audio tour, and I’d say I only looked at about half of the exhibits, it was so extensive. Most cool was to have recorded comments from people who lived/worked down there. One secretary who had to lie to her mum about where she worked, and you got the sense her mum thought she was a bit of a disappointment until after the war when she could disclose to her what she’d been doing! Impossible to imagine living underground, and emerging now and then to see the damage that the air strikes had caused.

That really drained us, and we emerged into a warm sunshiny Saturday with soooooo many people out and about! We walked around Westminster Abbey, and across the bridge which was just packed with tourists and families. We walked past the London Eye, didn’t really think about it with those crowds, even though it had been highly recommended to us and was a day with great visibility. We walked back over the Millennium pedestrian bridge, sat on a bench in the shade and just watched people. We were drained, but it’s not like we could go back to our apartment to relax!?!

We bought cold beverages in a convenience store, strolled through Trafalgar Square again to take in the various street performers and artists, then down to St James Park. Neat to see how packed the park was with Londoners enjoying the perfect September Saturday. Parties, kids feeding ducks and geese, people hanging out in the rented “deck chairs,” and others tossing balls around.

Someone in our party declared he was done eating pub food, so I went to my Open Table app to check out restaurants nearby. We went to the Blue Boar, between the park and Parliament. We sat in the bar for drinks before dinner and a LOUD bunch of Americans came in - ugh. They soon moved on to a private room. We had a great dinner in the restaurant, then back to Google Maps since there was an Underground station in the next block! Two trains and we ended up just the other side of our Whole Foods!

Back to pack and one last night of this apartment (Jeff described it as the same kind of feeling of camping with just a general ickiness).

Sunday September 15

Up at 6am, and by 6:45am we were rolling our bags back down the street in the direction of our new Underground station - High Kensington. We rode the District Line one stop, and transferred to the Piccadilly line which brought us just a few moving sidewalks away from our airline check in point! Easy - just 50 minutes and we still ended up with pounds left on our Oyster cards.

Lots of travel this year has earned us medallion status on Delta, so we headed to the VIP lounge and had a nice breakfast there away from the madness of the usual airport crowds. Bailey said it felt snobby, but fell in love with the latte machine!

We’re all flying Virgin Atlantic (Delta partner) to Atlanta. Then direct home to Madison. Can’t wait to sleep in my bed tonight and enjoy my own shower!

[atypical60]

BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND. MANY HAVE WONDERED.  MANY HAVE ASKED.

HERE YOU GO!

A couple of readers are curious as to how Bonaparte and I came to be a couple and I thought it would make for a fun post so here goes! I hope you enjoy….

Joséphine de Beauharnais and Napoleon Bonaparte

Seriously Josephine. Get outta my way. The Frenchman is mine!

The story of little loud-mouthed girl from New York and baguette loving little French Parisian boy….

My divorce wreaked some havoc—especially havoc in the form of a horrific financial downfall.   My oldest son was away in Austin at University of Texas. My middle son, my daughter and I were now housed in a small apartment. I may have lost our home, but at least there was a roof overhead.

It wasn’t easy. The water and electricity were constantly being shut off—so much so that the staff at Trenton Water Authority knew me by my first name. But—they were always pleasant and I always managed to scrape up enough cash to have the water put back on. Ditto the electricity.

I’ll skip some other bad stuff that I don’t want to get into. But—after a while, it was time to get back on the social train. I was signed up for a “trial” of 30 days on “Match.com”. I had two meetings over coffee, but just figured I was better off alone. Anyway, a couple of days before my “trial” ended, I figured I would peruse through the pickin’s.

Yes. We met on Match.com!

I stopped at a picture of a man in a light blue crew-neck sweater. I could tell it was wool and not polyester—that grabbed my shallow attention. Then I noticed this gentleman’s eyes were as blue as the color of the sweater. This gentleman appeared to be very distinguished. Something I was not. In fact I was sitting at the computer in granny pants and an old, holey T-Shirt.

I then went on to read his profile. He liked art (check); New York City (check, check, check); fine food (sorta check—I was cooking for teens but I love me a great and fancy meal!) and tennis (uncheck). OK –so three out of four wasn’t bad.

I love art..especially Renoir, so it was a good thing Bonaparte had a good appreciation–I mean, he’s French afterall…..

Given the fact he loved my home town, was also a plus!

Then I noticed where he was born and raised. Paris, France.

I had heard that Parisians were the rather “difficult” of all the Frenchmen–and women!

Oh.

Now, you need to understand something—I fed into that whole “Oh-the-French-hate-Americans” thing. Yes. After 9/11 I had a propensity to refer to “French Fries” as “Freedom” fries.

Yup! I don’t necessarily like fried potatoes, but I did refer to them as “freedom” fries. These days I just call them “Frites”!

I learned every single stereotypical image about the French from cartoons and TV shows.

Yes. My educational on French stereotypes were from “great” sources…

…although sometimes Pepe Le Pew is easier to understand.

However, something inside me, perhaps it was the contrarian or the curiosity, made me write a little blurb to him. It went something like this:

“So, you like art. Impressionism? It’s my fave. I love Renoir. You like NYC? I lived there for many years!” “You got an accent?” (THAT was a dopey question)

He wrote back. We spent a bit of time writing back and forth. I finally wrote to him that my “trial” was about to expire and I gave him my email address and told him to just shoot me an email.

We emailed back and forth and he asked me for my phone number. I gave it to him. He called. He had a very heavy accent that was somewhat hard to understand. But, we kept talking.

He asked me out—that last weekend of November 2004. Actually, Thanksgiving weekend. I explained to him that I could not make it because my daughter had a regional Irish Dance competition in Philadelphia and would be busy from Thanksgiving evening through that Sunday. (Yay! Party time at the Mid-Atlantic Regional Oireachtas!) Anyone involved in Irish Dance is fully-aware that you never make plans that conflict with those Thanksgiving weekend regionals!

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Irish Dance competitions, especially the Oireachtas, takes top priority. Over EVERYTHING!!! (spoken like a true dance mom)!

He asked if I wanted to meet him the following Friday. Friday, December 3rd, 2004. I nervously agreed. It was just easier talking on the phone and emailing than having to get all dressed up, and trying to look “pretty” and worrying how I looked, and did I look too fat…yada yada yada.

We both wanted to keep things casual so we met on somewhat safe and common ground. We met at The Marketplace in Princeton. The Marketplace was a smaller mall, and in that mall were many stores I frequented! (I spent many a rainy summer day there when the kids were young). In addition, I felt comfortable there. I figured if things turned sour, I could always use some retail therapy—and spend money I didn’t have.

I spent a lot of time, and money I didn’t have at this Princeton Mall. It was a safe place for our first meeting!

It was easy to spot Monsieur Bonaparte because, luckily, he looked just like his photo. In fact, he looked very nice. Until I noticed what he was wearing on his feet. A FRENCHMAN wearing TENNIS SHOES???? Yes! I was shocked. As much as I fed into the “anti-French” propaganda, the one thing I did have in common with the French was the disgust of white tennis shoes and/or sneakers. In my most humble opinion, tennis shoes belong on the tennis court and only on the tennis court.   The sneaker thing—only a few types of sneakers get my stamp of approval. Chuck Taylors and old-school Keds. End of story.

Was Bonaparte REALLY French–or was he faux-French. What self-respecting Frenchman would wear these on a DATE????

I become physically upset when I see tourists wearing white tennis shoes/sneakers, heavy ankle sport socks and ill-fitting shorts with t-shirts—especially when I see this kind of attire in a large city. It was bad enough for me to be seen off the courts with someone wearing these hideous shoes!

Those tennis shoes had my red flag at half-mast.

My red flag was at half-mast. Uh Oh!

As Bonaparte was not familiar with the Princeton area, so we took my car and we drove down Route 1 just a bit to grab a bite to eat at The Princetonian Diner.

Best diner in the Princeton area! The burgers and “freedom” fries are delicious!

Bonaparte had his red flag at half-mast upon entering my car—which, by the way he later deemed as the messiest car he had ever been in. I don’t even it being a mess except for a few pieces of sports equipment that belonged to the kids. The car wasn’t that bad. I mean really; he actually thinks he saw papers strewn on the floor!

My oh my. Bonaparte had HIS red flag at half mast after seeing the inside of my little green Cavalier.  Now we were even!

Wait. It gets better. After having a quick bite at the diner, Bonaparte asked me if I wanted to drive across the road to check out furniture at Ethan Allen and Domain. (I thought he was moving a bit fast!). It turned out his daughter was moving into a new place and he wanted to check out furniture for her.

Imagine that! This helicopter mom met her helicopter dad!

Get rid of those red flags. Helicopter Mom has met her true match..

The French version of the Helicopter Dad!!!!

We actually had a pretty good time checking out all that furniture—it seemed that we both had pretty much similar tastes!

Surprisingly, all the sofas and loveseats in our home are white and slipcovered! Who knew?

A stop at Starbucks ended our first “date” *giggle* *giggle*

A delightful end to our first date was a stop at Starbucks!

We have been together since that first date–but there’s more so read on…

Shortly thereafter, Bonaparte administered a “test”, unbeknownst to me. The test was disguised as a movie and dinner date. He was to cook dinner for me after seeing a “surprise” movie.

When I arrived at Bonaparte’s home, he was ready to leave. (*NOTE: Bonaparte is ALWAYS on time. Worse yet, he’s early. I am always late with the exception of doctor’s appointments, air and train travel. That’s it.) I think I may have been a couple of minutes late because he was not smiling. Oh wait. He’s French!

To lighten things up, I asked him “Why do you always wear those white tennis shoes? You’re supposed to be French! I thought the French had better taste in footwear?” “They really are not attractive!” (He didn’t realize I had a “thing” about footwear).

Embarrassed, he took the fugly tennis shoes off and changed into the classy, chic, European loafers, that he should have been wearing in the first place.

He also explained “Ah em so embarrahrrrazzz.” “Ah soughs zhat Americanzzz loved zuh tennis shuz.” “Ah em zoo ‘eppy ow don’ lek zhem.” “Ow ahr lek zuh Fra’shhh. Ow spek ur meen”.

(Translation: “I thought that Americans loved the tennis shoes. I am so happy you don’t like them. You are like the French. You speak your mind.”)

Score one for me!

While on the way to see the movie, he wouldn’t budge when I asked him whatmovie we were seeing. Instead, I hounded him about dinner. He was making roast chicken, French style. He then started talking about the various courses. He explained that we were having , in his words

“Pate and Cornish hen to start” He explained in his heavy accent.

I asked him why we were having Cornish hen before having chicken.

He knew I love a good meal, but Cornish Hen as a starter?  Whoa–I’m not that much of a little piggy!

He was becoming frustrated “Cornish hen..wizz mutar!!!”

Sensing his frustration, I started to laugh and asked why he was getting so upset.

Bonaparte: “Ow no zouz gren zings zhewish pip-ul et?” From zuh bar’rel?”

(Translation: “You know those green things jewish people eat? From the barrel?”)

Me:               “Yeah. You mean pickles??”

Bonaparte: “Oui.” Cornish hen ahr leedul peekuhls”.

Thus, I found out what “cornichon” were! Years later, I still cannot understand everything he says!

This is what the “Cornish hen” was! Oops!

The movie turned out to be “A Very Long Engagement”. A World War I epic of love and the search for a loved one. It starred Audrey Tatou and Gaspar Uliel as the doomed but engaged lovers, Mathilde and Manech. I loved this film. In fact, to this day it remains one of my faves!

I outsmarted Bonaparte! He had no idea I was a fan of French cinema!

This film turned out to be the “test”. Apparently, Bonaparte was unsure of a long-term relationship if I didn’t like French film. What he didn’t realize that I had been a fan of French cinema since my early twenties. Living in Manhattan gave me the opportunity to enjoy many French films. I was especially fond of Francois Truffaut, Louis Malle, Jean Renoir and Eric Rohmer. (Also..Bonaparte’s uncle, Yves Robert! Bonus!!!)

After expressing my disgust at this ridiculous test, I scored another one for me!

I guess the French are just more pragmatic in their relationship thinking! They judge compatibility  by film and food!

We’ve had ups and downs, but mostly ups.  We have fun and enjoy each other and balance each other very well. It’s nice!

I even introduced Bonaparte to selfies!

Bonaparte wasn’t used to divey bars in NYC until he met me! Here we are waiting for my son Roman’s band “Bad Man Yells” to begin playing. My oldest son Jake is with us. This is from 2010!

In Long Island. November 2011 at a family wedding (my side)!

So that’s it. Here’s a link to an article I wrote in “FrenchEntree” about my first attempt at making a nice French dinner for Bonaparte. It started out as a complete disaster but it really is a fun read:

My Dinner for Bonaparte

To keep you in the mood..Le Temps De L’Amour from Francois Hardy! Oh lala! XOXOXOXO

Move Over Josephine! Bonaparte is Mine!!! (The Story of how a New York Girl and Parisian Man Met) BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND. MANY HAVE WONDERED.  MANY HAVE ASKED. HERE YOU GO! A couple of readers are curious as to how Bonaparte and I came to be a couple and I thought it would make for a fun post so here goes!

[touristguidebuzz]

How to Visit Paris on a College Budget

Whether you’re a student studying abroad, or simply an avid TPG reader who’s taken advantage of one of those amazing fare sales to Europe we’ve been seeing recently, Paris is a hot destination. Between the flights, hotels and transportation around the city — oh, and don’t forget the food and drinks — costs can add up pretty quickly. Here, I’ll share several tricks I used while I was studying in Paris for 10 weeks that helped me make sure I was able to do everything I wanted without breaking the bank, as well as a few places that are definitely worth your money.

Start Saving as Soon as You Arrive in Paris

Paris has one of the most thorough subway systems of any major city. 16 Metro lines connect to five RER commuter lines and nine light-rail tram lines, making every block of the city easily accessible via public transit. The paper tickets you can buy at any station are easy to lose and confusingly priced, but if you plan ahead and order a Navigo Pass, you’ll watch your savings rack up — you can put an unlimited one-week pass on this plastic, chip-enabled card for just 22.15 euros (~$23). As a point of comparison, my friend who didn’t have a Navigo Pass spent more than 40 euros (~$42) on Metro tickets over the course of the five days he was there. Just don’t forget that trains stop running around 1:00am, so make sure you have a plan to get home if you’re staying out late, or else you’ll end up emptying your wallet for a cab! And if you do use the paper tickets, don’t toss them out once you’re past the turnstiles — some stations require you to use them to leave as well as enter.

With 30 lines to choose from, you’ll find zipping around Paris to be quite convenient. Image courtesy of the Régie Autonome des Transports Parisiens.

Meet the Store That Made Coming Back to the US Nearly Impossible

Fancy meals are fun, and you should take every opportunity to try the exquisite Parisian cuisine. But that doesn’t mean you need to spend big every time you get hungry. Enter Lidl, the German grocery chain that turned into my second home during my study-abroad program in Paris. The ability to buy a week’s worth of groceries for the equivalent of $25 was amazing, but I was usually content to pick up a fresh baguette and a few pastries for about 50 cents each, maybe a one-euro (~$1) bottle of wine and call it a day. It gets the job done, and you’ll learn pretty quickly that there’s no such thing as bad bread in Paris.

Stay tuned: European discount grocery chain Lidl is set to open its first US location in 2018. Let’s just pray they bring the baguettes with them. Image courtesy of Shutterstock.

Why Spend $50 on a Steak When You Can Spend $20 for Two?

People give me a funny look when I tell them that my favorite steak place in the world is a Parisian chain restaurant with only one item on the menu, steak frites. But how much do I love Le Relais de l’Entrecote? Enough that I went back to Paris this summer just for a steak — or at least that’s what I told my waitress. Sometimes the best food is the simplest. You walk in, sit down and the server will simply ask you how you want it cooked. There are no menus to distract you, just a wine list — I highly recommend the Relais house label — service is faster than you can imagine and they’ll break out a glorious plate of steak frites covered in a delicious green butter sauce. Wonderful, right?

Sorry to spoil the surprise, but just when you think it’s done, there’s more. Instead of clearing your empty plate, the waitress will bring out the second half of the steak that they’ve been keeping warm for you back in the kitchen. That’s right, 20 euros buys you two full steak dinners for the price of one. Want a drink after dinner? Of course you do, it’s Paris! While it may not be the cheapest place around, stop by La Coupole right across the street from Le Relais de l’Entrecote on Boulevard Montparnasse. Over the years, this bar-turned-restaurant has served as a watering hole for some of the most famous European writers and artists of all time, including Albert Camus, Salvador Dalí, Pablo Picasso and Jean-Paul Sartre, to name a few.

Meet the Green Fairy

And speaking of famous European artists… So poorly understood by those who’ve never tried it — thanks to the fact that it was long illegal in the US and much of Europe — absinthe is more readily available in Paris. While many places will tout their absinthe cocktails, it’s best experienced by itself. Only a handful of bars serve it the correct way, with a slotted spoon and sugar cube cradled under a tediously slow drip of ice water to create the perfect drink. A few blocks from the Bastille metro stop in the heart of one of the city’s best bar districts, Le Fee Verte will give you the authentic experience you deserve — you can even grab a quick dinner at any of the nearby restaurants and keep hopping around the neighborhood if you’d like. This is the perfect place to start or end your night, or else makes a great stop in the middle of it.

What do Marilyn Manson, Oscar Wilde, and Vincent van Gogh all have in common? A deep, deep, deep love of absinthe. Image courtesy of Shutterstock.

The Champ De Mars Will Entertain You for Free

I don’t blame you if you’re standing at the bottom of the Eiffel Tower thinking, “What could I possibly do to save money here?” Aside from scoring a student discount, for which you’d need either an EU passport or a Parisian student ID, there’s not much to it other than buying your ticket and going up to the top. But less than 100 feet from one of the largest tourist traps in the world is my favorite spot in the city. Grab a bottle of wine and a blanket and find a spot on the giant National Mall-like grassy field that stretches southeast from the tower (i.e., the Champ de Mars). Here’s the trick: Dozens of vendors will be wandering around selling wine and beer, and while a 10-euro (~$10) bottle of French wine might sound like a steal to an American tourist, it’s a blatant ripoff in Paris — you can stop by a Lidl store (mentioned above) before you go, or really any other grocery store, and buy 10 bottles for the same price (although if you’re going to do that, I’d suggest sharing).

I’ll take this view over the one from the top any day. Image courtesy of Shutterstock.

No Trip to Paris Would Be Complete Without a Crepe

Or a galette, if you prefer savory to sweet. While there are hundreds of stands ands carts making fresh crepes around the city, the best one I’ve ever had is from a little place housed under a small, nondescript brown awning right next to the Cité Internationale Universitaire de Paris. (If you’ve ever studied in Paris, you’ll be familiar with this collection of international dorms that provide cheap housing to foreign students, and if you haven’t, it’s three stops on the RER B line from the Luxembourg Gardens.)

What really sets these crepes apart is the people who make them. Grab a steaming cup of spiced tea on the house while you wait for your food, and strike up a conversation. Over the 10 weeks that I was fortunate enough to live right next to this stand, I watched the owners help a man fix his bike after it was hit by a car, assist my friend in replacing his phone after it was stolen and find complete strangers places to stay during their travels throughout Europe. It’s easy to see how genuine they are, which is why when I was lucky enough to go back to Paris this summer, my first point of business off the plane — yes, at 8:00am — was a crepe there. Once you grab your food, walk back across the street and check out Parc Montsouris behind the train station. It’s an incredibly underrated patch of greenery, complete with running tracks, a beautiful pond, and plenty of space to relax and step back from the hustle and bustle of the city, if only for a minute.

Do Me a Favor, Would You?

I have a pretty convoluted relationship with the city of Paris. While my program was eye-opening in ways I’m still only beginning to understand, it also coincided with one of the worst terrorist attacks Europe has ever seen. When it was time for me to come home just a few weeks later, the city was still in a state of limbo and I didn’t know if things were going to return to normal or if fear and hatred would fill the void. And while time has done wonders to heal the physical and emotional wounds that were inflicted that day, there’s still a long way to go. So whether this is your first time visiting this magical city, or like me, it feels more like you’re going home than going on vacation, go out of your way to spread some kindness. Do a good deed, help a stranger, buy a homeless child a meal. The city needs more love, and so does the world.

Do you have any tips for saving money in Paris? Let us know, below.

Featured image courtesy of AleksandarNakic via Getty Images.

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