July 4th round-up for Miss Betty

Oh no – the last full day in Paris for our little band of tourists.

Our breakfast room

Organizer, J. (no not me for a change!) had arranged for a half-day English-speaking private tour guide who picked us up promptly at 9 a.m.  Starting to have to set the alarms.

Amir was our fountain of wisdom and source of entertainment for three and a half wonderful hours. I can highly recommend hiring a private guide as one can see what one has missed, or spend more time on what one personally wants to see! As we were a fairly homogenous group – all interested in the same things, we really benefited from the special treatment.  Montmartre and seeing where both Victor Hugo had lived as well as the famous Moulin Rouge, never mind the oldest true cabaret in Paris and the last vineyard as well, on top of Picasso’s work atelier then Sacré Coeur were highlights.

Moulin Rouge

Where Van Gogh lived with his brother in Montmartre

One of two remaining "moulins" where there was dancing: Utrillo, Toulouse-Lautrec, Picasso and others met here

Picasso's atelier

Sacré Coeur

A wonderful mime

The flying buttresses of Notre Dame

The explanations about the “Pont Neuf” (new bridge – the first built in stone as opposed to wood, which rotted and had to be replaced often), the narrow streets in another neighborhood; the Latin quarter (thus named as the Romans had come through in the first century BC); the Opera house – at the end of the street leading in between the Louvre and the Opera house where the Emporer had his own private entrance, simply too many things to take in, but we did try.  J had again organized lunch: at Monsieur Bleu we all had the Asparagus Linguine, which was delicious in itself. We had intended on not having any dessert thinking that nothing could beat Angelina’s: we were wrong as the following photos bear witness.

Before

Millefeuille

Upside down lemon tart

Salty caramel ice cream

Cheesecake

The aftermath

The afternoon passed in a swirl as we dashed back to Galeries Lafayette for another suitcase (I won’t tell who, but there were too many souvenirs to pack and not enough spare room); returned for a rest then packing. Had intended just grabbing a couple of salads in the tea room across the street, but, due to the Soccer match in between France and Germany, it shut early. J and I debated getting yogurts next door in the mini-market, but finally opted to go back to where we had had dinner the first night to avoid the hassle - remember those desserts? And we had thought them exceptional - guess it is a good thing that we didn't have more time or we might even have discovered others (better I am sure not after Angelina's and Monsieur Bleu)

As the Eiffel tower lit that evening, all were trying to get to sleep for an early morning departure: Miss Betty’s Paris adventure had come to an end… for this time at least.

She is now cruising and having a well-earned respite from the rush of seeing it all.

The Eiffel Tower as seen from our hotel's entry

 

Miss Betty, onion soup and decadent desserts in Paris

June 30 

Finished June the way I like to live: a whole six-month period without any twisted ankles or other medical challenges. However, it was also a wonderful day as I traveled to Paris to join friends: one of my sister’s childhood friends (who promptly became mine during the years of to-ing and fro-ing for my mother), one of her sisters and their 91-year-old mom (day after tomorrow) who promptly said: “call me Betty”. I couldn’t quite be that disrespectful, but then it popped into my head: she’s Miss Betty!

I ate too much for lunch: who knew that in first class one got lunch on the TGV just like in a plane? I had been starving and so had gotten a sandwich at the train station and had wolfed it down promptly at noon. An hour later lunch was served: that’s ok, just like whilst travelling by air, I never turn down sustenance, as one never knows when the next meal might not be!

Negotiated the metro from the train station to the hotel and felt quite competent (I don’t remember the last time I used a metro – felt quite grateful to be able to read and speak the language of the city as otherwise I might have gone in the opposite direction of where I needed and wanted to be).

Our lovely and very well situated hotel

They had just arrived so J and I proceeded to go out for coffee (my 16h00 rule holds no matter where I am or whom I am with!) and found a lovely tearoom – with goodies – just 100 meters from the hotel.

Also noted that there were 5 restaurants within a small perimeter for dinner later.

After the sister and Miss Betty had rested a bit we proceeded back out for dinner, finally picking the restaurant from where we could see the Arc de Triomphe (the terrace at the restaurant looking towards the Eiffel tower wasn’t quite far enough out so there would have been no view, talk about being picky when one can!).

Due to jet lag on their part and over-eating on mine, we all chose small mains as the dessert menu had an above-average selection. In the end our desserts were larger than the meal, which had preceded it: we all chose a different one and happily dipped spoons into each others sampling the delights of crème brûlée (custard with a carmel top, which is flamed to make it hard; île flottant (floating islands)- with a thought for my housemate as this is her favourite dessert; profiteroles and a chocolate moelleux (chocolate cupcake with a runny middle set in custard).

moelleux au chocolat

crème brûlé

profiteroles

île flottant

Needing a wee bit of exercise to let that all settle, we then proceeded to walk to the Arch of Triumph; one which truly was as just as we got there we noticed all the police cars and vans, the anti-riot squads, etc. No need to wonder why: the French had just won their soccer match and qualified for the quarterfinals!

Heading back towards the hotel, J and Miss Betty stopped whilst the sister and I continued in the other direction towards the Eiffel tower.

Eiffel Tower, Paris, France

My own personal luck held and within short we were on the bridge over the Seine facing it in the early evening sun.

Days don’t come much better, nor do desserts: Welcome to Paris Miss Betty.

Miss Betty and her onion soup!