Saturday morning, my pie and I headed to Paris; well, technically we headed to La Défense, which is just outside of the city. Fellow exchange teacher Katie and her family had kindly invited everyone to share Thanksgiving with them. There were 11 adults and three children, and at least twice as many bottles of wine. The food was dee-vine. An actual turkey (fully cooked), mashed potatoes, stuffing, onion tart, something called "cornbread pudding," which was great, whatever it was, corn... and something else I can't quite remember at the moment. Dessert was pie, pie and more pie. And also a three-layer mousse cake. And wine. And coffee. And wine. I stole these picture's from Kim C's blog:
I stayed the night, which had been previously planned, me being an out-of-towner and all. Kim had driven in from about an hour away and decided to stay the night too, so she, Katie and I stayed up until about one in the morning solving all the world's problems.
The next morning, we had a leisurely breakfast of baguette, butter, clementines and gallons of coffee, then we swapped student papers so that I could prove that Katie's sixth graders write better than my seniors. (They do. No contest.)
Kim needed running shoes, so she decided she'd stop at the mall in La Défense before heading back. While I recovered from my shock (a mall? on Sunday??), I figured I'd catch a ride with her to see this place and also because, handily, I could pick up the Metro there.
What we found was not, in fact, a mall. It was two malls, two enormous malls, and the stores were open, and people were shopping. And between the two malls was an enormous open-air Christmas market, where we spent at least an hour wandering around, drinking hot chocolate and repeatedly declaring, "Oh my God, that smells so good." Compare this to a Le Mans Sunday, and you can understand why I was more than a little starstruck.
I left La Défense and took the Metro to the Champs-Elysées. I could have taken the Metro all the way to my train station, but I wanted to walk around some more. Because no matter how much time I spend in Paris, it's never enough. So I walked down the street and admired all the store windows, passed through yet another massive Christmas market then finished up at the Place de la Concorde. As I was standing outside the Hotel Crillon wondering where the entrance was to the Metro station, this frazzled-looking old couple stopped me and asked if I could help them find their destination. (Those of you who have experienced firsthand my abysmal Paris orienteering are already laughing.) But I studied my trusted map for several minutes and was finally able to confidently point them in what I sincerely believe was the proper direction. No clue if I was right, though I wish them the best of luck!
From there it was back to the station and on board the train to Tiny Town, which quickly filled up with obnoxious, vulgar young people making their commute back to school. (High school dorms are commonplace in France.) At one point there was a group of kids behind me so crass, so obnoxious, that I kept waiting for someone to stand up and scream at them, only no one did. Finally I packed all my stuff up determined to switch cars entirely... and wouldn't you know, they're both my students. Go figure.
In the next car, I saw another of my students; she had kicked off her shoes and propped her sweaty feet on the fold-down tray of the seat next to her. I thought about how I'd recently eaten a sandwich off a similar tray and felt mildly ill.
But I finally made it back to Tiny Town, dark, oppressive place that it is, and Monday rewarded my blissful weekend by giving me six hours of absolutely unbearable students. It appears the pre-Christmas madness is already upon us.
Pictures of Paris are here.
all of your pictures are divine. so festive! so not gaudy!
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