Paris: Je t'aime

The Eiffel Tower as viewed from the Trocadero

The long line of cars seemed to snake all the way from the airport to the city center. It was the early afternoon hours of Sunday, Sept. 1 and everyone - I mean everyone - was returning from their month-long holidays. Except us. Our vacation was just beginning.

I have had my heart set on going to Paris since the first day of French class in seventh grade. After eight years of French lessons, my desires had not waned one bit. The grandeur of the Eiffel Tower, the mystique of the Notre-Dame, the magnificence of the Arc de Triomphe - it had all bewitched me from a world away.

In the ensuing two decades, there were plenty of trips to be had, but, ironically, Paris was not one of them. The closest I came to France was a couple of trips to western Germany. Paris eluded me.

I started telling people that I'd marry the man that took me to Paris. First comes Paris, then comes marriage... But, as most of my plans go, I got that all wrong. I married him first.

Five years after we said 'I do,' Chad surprised me with a pair of earrings and a French-English dictionary. (The earrings had nothing to do with the dictionary, but I believe in always acknowledging the gift of jewelry.) The dictionary was his way of saying that he had finally given in to years of  hinting, begging and flat out demanding to be taken to Paris. I hugged him and thrust the dictionary in his hands. "I won't need this - you will," I told him as I scampered off to the computer to begin the planning.

The Arc de Triomphe surrounded by a massive traffic circle

Fast forward three months and we were in an airport shuttle hurtling towards Paris. My heart could have burst with excitement as I caught a glimpse of the Sacre Coeur off in the distance. Then, all of a sudden, we exited the motorway and we were darting through the streets of Paris. The Arc de Triomphe was directly ahead and I knew we were about to take on the daunting Charles de Gaulle traffic circle. Twelve streets empty into the 10-lane wide roundabout and yet, somehow, we zipped in and out in mere seconds.

We weren't counting on getting a tour of Paris when we booked our airport shuttle. It was pure luck that the others in our van were scattered around the city allowing us to catch glimpses of the Louvre, the Palais Garnier and the Eiffel Tower. It was wonderful and overwhelming all at once.

View of the Pantheon from the Hotel des Grands Hommes

We stayed at the Hotel des Grands Hommes - a boutique hotel with just 31 rooms located in the fifth arrondissement. (Paris has 20 arrondissements- or neighborhoods- that make up the city. They spiral out from the center with the majority of the big monuments situated on the banks of the Seine, right smack in the middle of it all.) We were just seven blocks from the Seine, in the heart of the Latin Quarter. Our hotel looked right out on the Pantheon - a church-turned-mausoleum that now serves as the final resting place for some of France's biggest names including Voltaire, Emile Zola, Rousseau, Victor Hugo and Pierre and Marie Curie.

I'm sure most tourists fall in love with the first arrondissement they stay in when they visit Paris. We definitely did. This area of Paris is one of the city's oldest and it's full of narrow, winding cobblestone streets that are lined with shops and cafes - everything you imagine when you think of Paris. We were happy to call it home for the week.

Notre Dame across the Seine

When we arrived at our hotel, our room wasn't quite ready so we took the opportunity to ditch our bags and take a stroll. I had committed the city's layout to memory before we left and I knew that the Notre-Dame Cathedral was within easy walking distance. Down the Rue Saint Jacques we went, passing by many of the city's impressive universities - including the massive Sorbonne. We quickly reached the Seine, glancing across its waters to take in our first view of the Gothic beauty.

The French have this tourism thing down pat. Right in front of the church's western facade, they had set up bleachers that were perfect for sitting and contemplating all that stood before you. We took our seats and poured over the incredible architectural details - everything from the intricate carvings and the stunning rose window to the packed-with-personality gargoyles and the flying buttresses.

One thing we couldn't get over - and this went for our entire trip - was how seriously large some of these buildings are. The tower tour at the Notre-Dame (which we took later in the week) involves climbing 400 increasingly narrow steps to get to the top. One branch of the Louvre art museum is a half-mile long! And the Eiffel Tower is so tall it takes two elevators to get to the summit. These are all things I would have never had an appreciation for had I not seen them with my own eyes.

Hotel des Grands Hommes

One place that did not fall into this seriously large category was our hotel room. We were prepared for something significantly smaller than we were used to, but I don't know that we anticipated things being as "cozy" as they were. We had to unpack our big suitcase right away because there just wasn't any room to open it up. Despite the tight quarters, the room was actually well-appointed. I still haven't quite figured out how they managed to fit in two chairs, a desk, a mini fridge and television in that small space, but they did.

We didn't spend much time in the room aside from sleeping, but we ended up loving all of its charms - especially the two sets of floor-to-ceiling windows that opened to a striking view of the Pantheon. Those were as Parisian as it gets.

Chad at Restaurant Perraudin

Our first night we faced the daunting task of trying to pick a restaurant among the 10,000 or so the city has to offer. We had read some good things online about a little place around the corner called Restaurant Perraudin so we decided to head over there just as they were opening for the evening. It was around 7:30, a good half-hour yet before any sensible Parisian would even begin to think about dinner. Only one other table was occupied.

We went full-French for that first meal, ordering three courses from the formula - essentially the prix fixe menu. It was entirely too much food, but we were determined to have the quintessential dinner experience. Over several hours (for the French, dinner is the evening activity) we gorged ourselves on baguette, foie gras, sausages, veal, boeuf bourguignon, profiteroles and apple tart. It was gluttony at its very best.

Profiteroles

After dinner, we walked back to our hotel, pleasantly full and overly tired from the long day's journey. Bed was calling, but Paris had one more surprise in store for us. There, at the end of the street and right in front of our eyes, was the top of the Eiffel Tower, all lit up for the evening. It wasn't a dream. I was in Paris at last.


Observations: The Charles de Gaulle airport has these strange ramps/shoots that take travellers from one area of the terminal to another. I've never felt more like a gerbil in my life. I didn't get a picture, but you can check one out on this blog.

Ooohhh, aaahhh, Iceland

The gorgeous blue waters of the Blue Lagoon

Normally, I detest long layovers. Usually, you're stuck sitting around in a generic airport, eating overpriced food and waiting to get on a plane only to sit some more. On our recent trip to Paris (more on that in another blog) we connected through - of all places - Iceland. Talk about a place I thought I'd never see.

On our way over, we only had an hour-long layover so we didn't have a chance to do much more than get off one plane and hop on another. On the return, it was an entirely different story though. With a seven-plus-hour layover awaiting us, a trek outside the Keflavik Airport walls was definitely in order. Bonus trip!

Before we left, my online research seemed to say that Reykjavik - Iceland's capital - was out of reach for our layover because the ride into the center of town takes about an hour. Instead, we made arrangements to visit the Blue Lagoon in nearby Grindavik. The Blue Lagoon is a geothermal spa located amongst lava fields. Seemed as good an introduction to the wonders of Iceland as anything could be.

After a 20-minute shuttle drive into what appeared to be the middle of nowhere, we arrived at the Blue Lagoon. It was about 44 degrees outside with a wind strong enough to whip your hair into knots. The idea of donning a swimsuit in that weather seemed a little crazy, but we forged ahead nonetheless.

A short trek through mountains of lava rock led us to the main building where we checked in and picked up some towels and bathrobes (you can rent them, along with swimsuits, there). We were also outfitted with a special futuristic bracelet that controlled our lockers and allowed us to buy food and drinks at the pool. So groovy.

After a quick change and shower, we were ready to test out the famed waters. The Blue Lagoon is a man-made wonder, fed by the water output from the nearby geothermal power plant (you can see steaming it in the background of the photos.) The water, which ranges from 98 to 102 degrees, is rich in silica and sulphur (and yes, it does smell like it's full of sulphur). The minerals are responsible for the beautiful blue color of the lagoon.

Like a hot tub time machine

If you think it looks pretty, you should spend a few hours sitting in it. Talk about the world's best bath- it never gets cold. And the chilly air temps provided the perfect contrast to the deliciously warm waters.

Something about this out-of-this-world experience seemed to put everyone at the lagoon in a good mood. People were jovial and friendly. It was like one big hot tub party. At one point there was even a DJ (in a bathrobe) spinning on the pool deck. You had to pinch yourself to make sure it was all real.

For those looking for the full spa experience, there are a ton of services - massage, facials, body scrubs- you can take advantage of for an extra charge. For free, you can fashion your own face mask with some of the silica mud provided in buckets around the lagoon. Everyone does it. You might as well look ridiculous, too. After the mud dries (10-15 minutes), you rinse it off and then marvel at how amazingly smooth your skin feels. I honestly couldn't believe the difference. If it hadn't been 44 degrees out, I would have slathered my entire body in the stuff.

We spent about two hours in the water before it was time to get dried off and back on our shuttle to the airport. We perused the Blue Lagoon gift shop, but everything in Iceland seems absurdly expensive so we opted to take home only photos and memories (and great skin!).

The Blue Lagoon is surrounded by lava fields.

It cost 33 euro (roughly 44 dollars) to spend the day at the Blue Lagoon (not counting the airport shuttle or towel/robe rentals), but for our one Iceland outing, we honestly thought it was worth it. We got back on the plane so refreshed and relaxed - it didn't seem like we had a layover at all.

I don't know if we'll ever make it back to Iceland, but if we happen to get sidelined at the Keflavik Airport again, I'll be ready to head back to the Blue Lagoon.


Observations: 
* So many of the words in the Icelandic language contain mind-bending combinations of letters and vowels. Beyond "hello" and "thank you", I was totally lost.
* The conversion from Icelandic krona to U.S. dollars was something like 109 to 1. I wasn't the only one who couldn't wrap my head around it - we overheard one woman lamenting about getting the decimal point wrong - a mistake that could have meant the difference between paying $10 and paying $100.
* If airplane food is any indication, fish is the main component of an Icelandic diet.
* The Keflavik Airport may have been ordered straight out of an Ikea catalog.

Bonus shot from the plane of when we flew over Greenland. How gorgeous!