I spent the day out with a colleague with the aim of going to see a film - it's the yearly cinema festival thing where, for the next three days, you can go to see a film for 3€ instead of the usual 10€.
Now's the time to catch up on the films that you've always wanted to watch but for whatever reason, didn't get to see.
The only problem is that hundreds and thousands and millions of others had the same idea (cue interminable lines outside all of the cinemas).
After a meagre ten minutes of huffing and puffing, we decided to go for a coffee whilst waiting for things to calm down.
One of my favorite cafés is at Place de l'Opéra : Le Café de la Paix.
I love this place for one reason - when you ask for a hot chocolate, they bring you out two hut jugs; one full of hot milk, the other full of hot, rich, chocolate so that you can mix and make your own drink according to how chocolaty you want it.
Up until today i've never been inside as i've always liked sitting out on the terrace watching people go by.
I didn't feel completely comfortable playing tourist bloke, but all the same...
The ambiance is very feutré with waiters and waitresses in attendance, ready to do your beckoning ... you can have cream teas, lunch or brunch with aunt Ada ...
From where i was sitting i discretely snapped off a few shots of the decor - I'm such a sucker for the gilded stuff that i just couldn't resist it ;-)
Suitably refreshed, we decided to hit the streets again only to find that the queues hadn't subsided one iota and were at a loss as to what to do.
We toddled around the quartier aimlessly and stumbled down a covered passageway, which in ordinary times must be chock-a-block with shoppers, afamished office worker bees and the like.
But being that it's sunday, well ... it's pretty much dead
It's strange, but you never know who you just might bump into whilst you're out, minding your own ...
After about an hour or so, we had a serious attack of the munchies and went to look for a bite to eat - i settled for a good old fashiond Gréc frites - kebab and fries - whilst my equally hungry colleague settled for a healthier panini style sandwich (way too healthy for me).
We sat on a bench, casing out the progression of the waiting people, trying to figure out the best time to strike and decided that if we didn't make a move then we wouldn't be seeing any films.
Taking courage in both hands, we braved the strafing wind and took our place in what seemed to be the shortest line.
After an ungodly wait behind the usual old wimmin who still have trouble with the franc/euro changeover, we finally managed to get in to see '23' with Jim Carrey.
Let me just say here; i came out feeling short changed (i really begrudge splashing out my 3€50): I'm convinced that the story could've been good but shot differently.
If it'd been made by Night Shymalan and not Joel Schumacher we'd've had a whole new kettle of fish.
As it was, i found the whole thing a load of old predictable twaddle.
*nuff said*
To round off the day in style, we thought we'd go for a few beers (as a guise for an aperatif) and hit a nice eating joint.
I'm not into expensive restaurants unless it's for a very good reason (or my future/current squeeze) but i really love simple bistros with good simple fare.
Not knowing quite where to go, we ambled on down to Place de la République - which left me with not too far to fall / crawl home.
We made it to one of the better (according to me, at any rate) chain bistros where the meat is cooked to perfection and you can eat very well and not too expensively; as long as you don't hit the wine list with too much gusto.
We sat down, watched the battering rain on the windows, perused the menu, ordered and took in the decor ...
All very nicely hum drum 'n' all that, when suddenly there was some kind of kerfuffle over to our right ... tonights cabaret performance had begun.
In the photo above, and at 1 o'clock to the girl in front, an old guy has just keeled over and died.
Right there.
On the spot.
In mid mastication.
I'm not sure if he sort've 'let loose' with every thing, as we were to far to see / smell, but the guy just went a sort of tallow, waxy colour, listed to one side and was as stiff as a board by the time the ambulance arrived.
We spent thirty minutes or so, sipping vodka, casting glances to each other whilst surruptiuosly, ghoulishly, watching the efforts of the paramedics trying to resucitate the guy; "3000 jules, stand clear" *clang* ... "adrenaline, 100cc"
Who needs ER on tv when you can be there.
A pretty grim way to end a good day out.
My Tartiflette was very nice though :)
Now's the time to catch up on the films that you've always wanted to watch but for whatever reason, didn't get to see.
The only problem is that hundreds and thousands and millions of others had the same idea (cue interminable lines outside all of the cinemas).
After a meagre ten minutes of huffing and puffing, we decided to go for a coffee whilst waiting for things to calm down.
One of my favorite cafés is at Place de l'Opéra : Le Café de la Paix.
I love this place for one reason - when you ask for a hot chocolate, they bring you out two hut jugs; one full of hot milk, the other full of hot, rich, chocolate so that you can mix and make your own drink according to how chocolaty you want it.
Up until today i've never been inside as i've always liked sitting out on the terrace watching people go by.
I didn't feel completely comfortable playing tourist bloke, but all the same...
The ambiance is very feutré with waiters and waitresses in attendance, ready to do your beckoning ... you can have cream teas, lunch or brunch with aunt Ada ...
From where i was sitting i discretely snapped off a few shots of the decor - I'm such a sucker for the gilded stuff that i just couldn't resist it ;-)
Suitably refreshed, we decided to hit the streets again only to find that the queues hadn't subsided one iota and were at a loss as to what to do.
We toddled around the quartier aimlessly and stumbled down a covered passageway, which in ordinary times must be chock-a-block with shoppers, afamished office worker bees and the like.
But being that it's sunday, well ... it's pretty much dead
It's strange, but you never know who you just might bump into whilst you're out, minding your own ...
After about an hour or so, we had a serious attack of the munchies and went to look for a bite to eat - i settled for a good old fashiond Gréc frites - kebab and fries - whilst my equally hungry colleague settled for a healthier panini style sandwich (way too healthy for me).
We sat on a bench, casing out the progression of the waiting people, trying to figure out the best time to strike and decided that if we didn't make a move then we wouldn't be seeing any films.
Taking courage in both hands, we braved the strafing wind and took our place in what seemed to be the shortest line.
After an ungodly wait behind the usual old wimmin who still have trouble with the franc/euro changeover, we finally managed to get in to see '23' with Jim Carrey.
Let me just say here; i came out feeling short changed (i really begrudge splashing out my 3€50): I'm convinced that the story could've been good but shot differently.
If it'd been made by Night Shymalan and not Joel Schumacher we'd've had a whole new kettle of fish.
As it was, i found the whole thing a load of old predictable twaddle.
*nuff said*
To round off the day in style, we thought we'd go for a few beers (as a guise for an aperatif) and hit a nice eating joint.
I'm not into expensive restaurants unless it's for a very good reason (or my future/current squeeze) but i really love simple bistros with good simple fare.
Not knowing quite where to go, we ambled on down to Place de la République - which left me with not too far to fall / crawl home.
We made it to one of the better (according to me, at any rate) chain bistros where the meat is cooked to perfection and you can eat very well and not too expensively; as long as you don't hit the wine list with too much gusto.
We sat down, watched the battering rain on the windows, perused the menu, ordered and took in the decor ...
All very nicely hum drum 'n' all that, when suddenly there was some kind of kerfuffle over to our right ... tonights cabaret performance had begun.
In the photo above, and at 1 o'clock to the girl in front, an old guy has just keeled over and died.
Right there.
On the spot.
In mid mastication.
I'm not sure if he sort've 'let loose' with every thing, as we were to far to see / smell, but the guy just went a sort of tallow, waxy colour, listed to one side and was as stiff as a board by the time the ambulance arrived.
We spent thirty minutes or so, sipping vodka, casting glances to each other whilst surruptiuosly, ghoulishly, watching the efforts of the paramedics trying to resucitate the guy; "3000 jules, stand clear" *clang* ... "adrenaline, 100cc"
Who needs ER on tv when you can be there.
A pretty grim way to end a good day out.
My Tartiflette was very nice though :)
Libellés : Sunday sunday ...
posted by Damiel | 11:59 PM
2 Comments:
That all seems like very much fun and so beautiful. That's it. I'm moving back! (wondering what the kids will say.)
So sorry about the old fella.
i'm in my element - going out and checking out little corners of paris that i don't know :)
On a side note, i don't know what happened to the post with the blokes in kilts so i'm having a go at putting it back up ...
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