Our First Paris "Find"

 Dad and I were biking along tiny Parisien back streets, when to the left, I caught a glimpse of a small square that looked enchanting. We went in search and found this tiny square street that wrapped around a tall tree with shops on either side. I recognized the word chou which means cream puff. And I knew if this was a cream puff shop on a quiet street, it had to be special. You should have seen Dad's face when he made the connection--which led to him putting down his bike and marching straight in.

 He purchased au chocolat and naturel. The cream was pure heaven.

The funny thing is that under "La Maison Du Chou" are the words-Manuel Martinez, Meilleur Ouvrier De France. Translated literally means: The best worker in France. Which is really an honor bestowed by a cullinary arts school or board or something. And when I asked the workers, yes Monseiur Martinez is from Spain-a Basque. He also has a restaurant which we will find and eat at. This could be one of Tony's relatives. How fitting that he has a cream puff shop. Yes, girls, this may be in your genes. And eventually in your jeans.

Come With Me On a Short Bike Ride to the Musee D'Orsay

We Found the Original Statue of Liberty

 Quite unexpectedly while strolling through my favorite park, we found the original statue of liberty that Bartholdi used as his model for creating the American gift that stands in New York harbor. It was only about 9 ft. tall and gave a feeling for the magnificence and creation of the giant harbor statue that greeted my grandparents upon their arrival into America.

Velib in Paris

Riding Bikes in Paris: A whole new adventure that I couldn't have imagined. The Parisians have this great program called Velib-Velo is bike and who knows where ib comes from. So here's how it works. All around Paris and her suburbs (1800 locations) are bike stands with approximately 40-70 bikes per stand. You buy a pass ( 8 euros per week), get a secret code, and voila! Access 24 hours, 7 days a week to a bike. Sounds good, right? Well there are a few amusing complications. You can only take each bike for 30 minutes. After the 30 minutes you must return the bike to a bike stand--anywhere. But, as we found today, not all bike stands are created equal-meaning some have more demand than others. Translated into real life experience, this means that you may return your bike to a bike stand and there is not an open space. No worries: Velib provides a bonus 15 minutes and flashing locations of empty bike racks. All good and well when you know which direction you are facing. Bike parking spaces have a higher premium than parking spaces at the mall during Christmas. All in all, it eventually works out. Dad graciously allowed me to take the one free space close to home and ventured into the Latin Quarter for a free bike space.

And...we just learned that at any time, we can web access each bike location and find out the available bikes and empty spaces--keep in mind the empty spaces are now as important as the actual bike availability. Our never-empty bike rack down the stairs and around the corner boasted 8 free spaces at the moment. Always the scientist, Dad put on his shoes and ran down to check if Velib on-line is current and accurate. 

Pause.

He just returned, "C'est Vrai!" (It's true!) he calls out. And he's currently giving me the update of the locations nearest us, "3 up in the Rue de Rivoli. Ooohhh," he says, "19 free spots at the one that's in the middle of the island just over from us. And...."

For this we came to Paris! 

"Now there's 5 bikes available and 11 spots--someone just took three more."

Paris 2013

 This building reminded me of New York's flatiron.

 Happy Dad is speaking like a native. The waiter, right before we paid our bill (wonder if that had anything to do with it), couldn't believe Dad has only been a Paris for 2 jours and he was already speaking so well. Actually, even I am impressed. But we know the time he put into it. He is studying grammaire right now. Nothing like a little encouragement to try harder!

 I bit into this buffalo mozzarella and thought I was going to die. It was SSSSoooo flavorful. It makes our at-home mozzarella taste like cardboard. I of course thought of Anni and her love of the caprese salad.

 Tony's lasagne was incroyable too. We wandered down this alley and found this restaurant, just a block or two from the Louvre.

 Royalty was lucky the French Revolutionists only hung them or chopped off their heads. This residence that now houses the treasures of the Louvre is really incomprehensible--that they lived so lavish of lives when around them their taxpayers were starving.

A cute old couple we found resting by a fountain by the Louvre.

A Simple Gesture

To fully understand this post, I strongly recommend that you watch/listen to this four minute TED talk: http://www.ted.com/talks/steven_addis_a_father_daughter_bond_one_photo_at_a_time.html

Steven Addis, a photographer, tells of his 15 most favorite images, mostly taken by strangers. These 15 images document his visit to New York the same time every year with his daughter since she was a one-year-old. In the four minute talk, Addis mentions that he relied on the kindness of strangers to snap the image. He gives a challenge too, to document our special moments.

While in Paris, ( inspired by Addis' address), I have had the most heartfelt moments when I have offered to take the photo of strangers. Twice now I have walked up to the photographer and offered to take the photo so he or she may be in the photo with his/her loved one. In this smallest of gestures I have felt that heart-warmth that comes from engagement with a stranger when lending a hand.

The first couple was French and the second couple was from Moscow Russia. In each instance the borders, the politics, the differences, shrunk in a matter of seconds.

The Russian man asked where I was from in his limited English. I told him Salt Lake City. He mentioned  "Mormons." Yes, I responded with delight. I am a Mormon. "Well, then congratulations because Mormon is interesting."  Indeed it is I responded. There were a few more pleasant exchanges and then we parted. But it was a chance, a very small opportunity to witness the joy I have from my "interesting" religion!

Today on the terrace of the Musee D'Orsay, there was an older couple taking individual photos of each other. The moment was right. She had flaming orangish reddish hair --she looked more like a punk than an old lady. I offered to take their photo. They were happy. When done, the man asked me where I was from. United States I answered and he gestured like it was obvious and wanted to know the state. "Salt Lake City." Oh, they knew Salt Lake and had been there and visited the tabernacle. They were from Israel. The conversation continued and I was able to ask them how long they'd been in Israel. Since she was 1and a 1/2 and he was 4. Her mother had escaped the Holocaust posing as a Catholic in Poland. As she told me their stories, her lips quivered and she got tears in her eyes and I couldn't help but tear up too. Her generation was the one that built up Israel. They don't have earthquakes or mudslides but they have terrorists.  At the end of our conversation we hugged and I was blessed for the encounter.