Onward from my soggy London travels to Paris by underwater
train. Last trip I got excited because
for some reason I thought that the side of the tunnels would be thick glass and
we’d be able to see whales. Last trip was 4 years ago, not when I was 4, you
read right. In hindsight this seems like
the stupidest idea possible for a number of reasons, but at least this time I
was prepared and so not disappointed. I got on the train fine, right time,
right place, right day which was good, as my travelling now seems to come with
a strong sense of anxiety that I’ve got it wrong, again. Three times, three wrong flights, too much
money fixing it- you’d hope I’d learnt my lesson. I got Erin to help me book
it. Haha.
Marie picked me up at the station as she lived only 10 mins
away in a place called Jaures. We walked down past about 4 bars called ‘bar
Lafayette’, where I made a few True Blood references until I found out it was
the name of the street, not just an overly popular name for a pub. We went out
for cheese, baguettes and red wine, and then returned to her place, stayed up
listening to the Beatles and drinking whiskey with her friend and flatmate. I
was stoked to be there and it felt like I got to experience a real Parisian way
of life. Last time I was in Paris was with my best friend Erin when she lived
there for a year- so we visited amazing places she’d discovered and wanted to
share with me, including the Eiffel tower and the touristy stuff, plus local
places she’d found. That time, I got shouted at by a stupid lady who attacked
my crap French, despite me only ordering a baguette, however this time I OWNED
IT. You should have seen me, ordering
coffee and basic things that don’t require any response from either side. Winner.
The next day Marie went to work and I wandered around
Montmartre, enjoying the scenes and locals, loving being in a city on my
own. I sipped espressos and felt well
cool. Montmartre is well-known for
streets full of people asking to draw your portrait. I avoided them as I needed to watch my
budget, but was eventually approached by a guy I haggled down (as much as you
can, anyway) who agreed to draw me. As he drew, we chatted a bit, about him
going to painting school, having a mentor etc, and then his friend approached,
joined by a fellow painter. All three of them chatted quickly in French while
looking back and forth at me and the drawing.
It was a bit awkward at first, knowing they were talking about me but
then I heard them say ‘belle’ so I was like, ‘cool, they think I’m beautiful,
I’m cool with that” and left them to it. Eventually the older, seemingly
eccentric man looks at me and says (and I quote) “I’m sorry, how rude of us-
here we are talking about you and you don’t understand. What we are saying is
that you are an artist’s dream- you are so beautiful and we would love to draw
you naked. Not in a funny way, but that you have a perfect body and would be so
wonderful to draw with no clothes on”. Stifling a laugh, I thanked him and saw
that he wasn’t being creepy, though it was a fine line. To make the story even better; the drawing
LOOKS NOTHING LIKE ME. Honestly, it’s more like Bella from Twilight, just a
plain, normal looking girl; he didn’t even draw my curly hair! I reckon he has
a generic girl that he draws to maybe flatter people. I just laughed and left.
Such a funny experience.
Walking home with Marie, I saw a real black market. I was
pretty excited but tried to play it cool around Marie, who had obviously seen
this before. These guys had lifted up
the drain cover by the road and stashed it with cigarettes, which they only
opened to sell. That’s the end of the
story. Guess you had to be there. Though Marie was…and she wasn’t excited. Unfortunately their house was almost broken
into (locks broken etc) so we went to the police station in the morning. Marie
kept apologising but I enjoyed the local experience. Maybe I’m a nerd. We
wandered for hours, eating awesome strawberries and spending loads of time at
an amazing coffee shop set up by Aussies…I think. Amazing coffee and I got an
awesome coffee print designed by one of their baristas. We visited Pompidou, an
awesome looking art gallery (you should wiki it) and had a coffee, before
heading home to a rocking party.
That evening Marie had organised a “Catherine is the greatest”
party, or something along those lines, that was it, though, I’m sure. She
invited friends from heaps of different places who were all so interesting and
different from the rest, trying to speak English with me as I said “oui, cava’
as much as it sort of related to conversations. We drank red wine, ate more
cheese and everyone chain-smoked. I tried one of those really thin and long
French cigarettes, but it’s just a cigarette that’s long and thin. Who would
have thought? We listened to music, talked, danced, sang until the early hours
of the morning, it was such a fantastic night. The Parisians know how to party.
Marie cooked me a special French meal that I didn’t
recognise the name of. She bought the
ingredients that she said were duck but she didn’t know what part of the animal
they were from. They were sort of
marinated and stewed in oil and herbs and we round and dark red. I asked her if
they were testicles; she said no. I googled them and found out they were
gizzards. I did try them, they weren’t bad to taste but the texture was really
odd, kind of like a slimy stewed beef- though that description also doesn’t
fit. I let Marie finish mine because I’m such a kind a generous person. We hung
out with Marie’s flatmate who is an awesome Jazz singer (Marie writes, directs,
produces and acts in movies – Google trampo films) so their flat was an awesome
Parisian cliché. I missed out on seeing her flatmate perform by a day which was
disappointing, but keep an eye out for her, I’ll post a link. She’s just finished
a tour.
From there it was onto Berlin in Germany to visit an old
friend Niko. He met me at the train station and we walked back to his
apartment, which was amazing. Top of the apartment, spacious, awesome
house. In Germany (and in Paris too, I
found), apparently landlords don’t care what you do. Niko had covered his walls
in red and grey stripes, put up a hammock, paintings, photos, everything. It
was such a cool flat. But you can’t see it so you probably don’t care. Just
take my word for it.
We met his gf Tulli, who was Finnish, (Niko is German) so we
all spoke in English, which I totally won at. Yussss. We went out for Turkish,
which is a staple in Berlin, and came back to his place to watch Keinohrhasen,
a German movie I had watched 4 years ago. He remembered that I’d watched it and
hadn’t understood all of it due to lack of subtitles, so got it for us to
watch. What a sweetheart.
The next day Niko had to go and cycle 120kms (as you do) so
I wandered around the area, searching for markets and good coffee. I spent a
couple of hours looking for markets that weren’t on, had a terrible coffee then
an amazing one, plus it was up and down a lovely canal, so I wasn’t too
worried.
Berlin finished his cycling, showered and was good to go, which
is crazy to me. I would have lain down and died after riding 120kms, but he
just walked a little funny then was fine.
We walked for 5 hours, to Berlin Gate, The Berlin Wall,
Checkpoint Charlie and many tourist shops with terrible postcards. We had
currywurst, I ate Pretzels, and life was good.
Berlin was cool; they have bits of the Berlin wall throughout the city
and heaps to look at. I was only there a day so will definitely do all I can to
go back this trip. We spent the evening at a local pub near his house catching
up and being excited about our new relationships. Just like old times. Only
there a day, so I left the next morning to Dresden on the bus, where I slept
the whole way like a nana.
Stay tuned for Maike, more Germany, Prague and other exciting destinations.