Random crappy cell phone pics from my brief sojourn to Paris last week: first stop, Aerogare de Charles De Gaulle, where I was unceremoniously buzzed by an Air France Concorde. Zut alors!
After a few days of work related crap, I dropped in at the Lavinia wine shop (Europe's largest) near the Gare St. Lazare to sample some of their famous grape juices. Alas, not a bottle of Night Train or Boone's Farm in sight, so I picked up a bottle of local brew to bring home to Tammi Jo.
Check it out! Wine vending machine.
Another great place for wine: French Mickey D's. This one (also near Gare St Lazare) was built like a Alsatian cuckoo clock.
After victuals I hopped the Metro for St. Germaine to meet up with my pal Professor Jonathan. The good professor is an American ex-pat who once toiled as a vagabond sailor and rock journalist (editor of Circus and press agent for Frank Zappa), and who moved to Paris in the early 70's to become a poet & counterculture bon vivant. Today he teaches university English in Paris, and has graciously agreed to join Bolus as a contributor and editor of our European bureau. Bienvenue a Bolus, P.J.!
After marveling at pair of $1700 shoes (WTF?) in a shop window, our first stop in St. Germaine was "Comptoir de Canettes." This little alley dram shop is famous as a launching pad for French folk troubadors for 60 years. We enjoyed a few shots of calvados and lovely female scenery.
Case in point: outside Comptoir de Canettes we met this lovely jeune fille, a graduate student who didn't seem off-put by our crude American philisinisme. Franco-American relations restored! As you can see, PJ was fairly pixelated at this point.
At 10 pm the soltice sun was still out, so we rambled over to the square in St Germaine where an antiques fair was underway. Saw some cool stuff including strolling Brittany folk musicians, a fancy pissoir (paging Marcel Duchamp!), and some WWII-era baseball equipment apparently left here by liberating GIs.
Another cafe stop, where P.J. pointed out this interesting site -- the apartment home of the hottest babe who ever lived: Catherine Deneuve. Alas, we did not see her emerge.
Penultimate stop of the evening was La Palette, another St Germaine stalwart hopping with a throng of cafeistes.
Later we headed over to the famous Deux Magots ("two maggots") to close the joint down. I had a flight the next day, so we decided to leave about 2am. Still I had a nagging feeling that my Paris experience was somehow incomplete. But of course! A good old fashioned French car-b-q! Luckily there was Citroen nearby, so we flipped it over for an early morning bonfire.
Merci Paris, and a bientot!