Paris’ First Impression

Painting by Antoine Blanchard

For a novice international traveler an overseas trip can be intimidating. I’m definitely a novice international traveler but I didn’t feel intimidated during our first adventure to Paris. I tend to be overly thorough and prepared when it comes to vacation. Whether it be 100 miles away or the other side of the world, I put an inordinate amount of time in planning and researching a destination. Since my wife and I had never been overseas, even more time went into preparing for our Paris journey. It was certainly time well spent.

Yet, after all of the study of maps, evaluations of the culture, and familiarizing of details, I still wasn’t beyond the initial shock of such a phenomenal city. After arriving at Charles de Gaulle International Airport I quickly led my wife through a pre-scripted routine that I had practiced a hundred times before in my mind. Like a well-oiled machine we made our way through the terminal and soon we were in a cab heading into the city. Sure we had a few minor hiccups and people had to wait on us as we had our first encounter with the ATM and as we tried to define the end of the taxi line. But overall we were like pros (at least in our own minds).

The trip from Charles de Gaulle International Airport to the city of Paris is pretty underwhelming. As you make your way through the outskirts of the city there’s just not much to see. There are vacant lots and rundown buildings galore. I would be lying if I didn’t say that I was a little concerned. But it’s amazing how things can change in a snap. The glorious landmarks of the city of Paris began to appear in the distance. The Eiffel Tower and the Sacré-Coeur Basilica stood as welcoming beacons and my concerns eased a bit. Then our cab driver got off the freeway, made four or five quick turns, and in a blink of an eye I felt the embrace of Paris.

In one quick turn Paris became alive to me. Standing tall in front of us was the Arc de Triomphe. My jaw dropped and my heart raced. It was at that point it really set in. I was in Paris, one of the most celebrated cities in the entire world, and before me stood one of the world’s grandest monuments. And everything else changed as well. The sidewalks were buzzing with life. Beautiful buildings showing off their gorgeous architecture lined each street. The rush of awe and excitement that I felt is hard to capture with words. But I knew I was experiencing something special and this first taste blossomed into a love for the city that I never expected.

We would go on to have a spectacular first day. It was filled with new experiences and memorable moments – things that my wife and I will never forget. But it all started with that first impression. It was a day filled with excitement and nervousness. But Paris put our minds at ease and invited us in. It blew us away and showed us why it’s one of the greatest cities in the world. It left me with feelings that would forever change me, and my love for the city found it’s genesis with that first impression.

“Adventures in the Paris Metro”

This may surprise you, but there is no extensive subway system in the small south Arkansas town of 4,500 people where I live. And even though I have visited a few bigger places, I’ve never tasted the big city subway experience. That may shed some light as to why I was a bit nervous when it came to using the Paris Metro. Through all of my preplanning and research, there were a few things that made me a little nervous – navigating the Charles de Gaulle airport, successfully transferring dollars to euros, avoiding pickpockets, and of course surviving the Paris Metro. Yet I consider myself a capable man able to adapt and learn once I put my mind to it.

Now most of you know how men are. There’s a bullheaded, puffy-chested sense of being knowledgeable that often times drives us. I don’t pretend to be immune to that. I studied more for our Paris metro excursion than I did any test during my years in high school. I watched YouTube videos, I studied the metro map, and I read guidebooks all to prepare me for Paris’s immense subway system. But there’s always that inherent male stubbornness – that stubbornness that our wives know all too well. And there were a few moments where my male stubbornness kicked in, making our Paris Metro experience a little more adventurous than it had to be.

To be honest, I am overplaying that a little bit. Our troubles in Paris’ amazing metro system were minor and in the grand scheme of things were more funny than problematic. In fact, as I reflect back on our trip to Paris, our ventures into the Paris Metro offered us an amazing look at a different side of the Paris culture. It’s like a subterranean cardiovascular system that flows underneath all of Paris. The arteries and veins spread out into every arrondissement and the steady flow of people give it its own vibrant life.

The very first time we followed the flow of people down into the metro I was unnecessarily nervous. Not at riding the train or getting mugged or getting lost. No I was worried about buying a ticket. It’s the simplest things that get us males! I let my research kick in and instantly walked up to the kiosk where I was to purchase my ticket. I’m sure I look like an old pro to all the Parisians walking by. I’m sure I fit right in as someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Actually I’m sure no one paid me any attention but there’s not much drama in that is it? Well they certainly pay attention when I clogged up the kiosk line. I scrolled the little roller bar that resembled the controller on a Centipede arcade game from the early 1980s and could never find “English”. Suddenly my “You’re in the Way” complex kicked in after seeing a line form behind us and we abandoned our mission. Ticket via kiosk – Mission aborted!

Fortunately we were at one of the stations that had a ticket window and we were able to get some there. And later I would go back to the kiosk and figure out what I’ve done wrong. Chalk it up to a Paris learning curve. Other than a couple of wrong turns that was the biggest issue we had the entire time. The Metro was efficient and prompt. I was also impressed by impeccable cleanliness. Regardless of what station we were at, and we visited a lot of them, they were all spotless. That was certainly not what I expected.

We did struggle with an apparent Metro law that we were totally unaware of. It was quite obvious that it was against the law to smile or show any sign that you may be happy while on the Metro in Paris. Now this is something that every guidebook should tell. Obviously it’s of the utmost importance because everyone we saw obeyed this law, everyone but us. The emotionless blank stares reminded me of something you would see out of “The Matrix”. And then there was us, right in the middle of it, blatant lawbreakers who were constantly smiling and talking about what we had seen that day. If we had only known. Thankfully we were never reported and never taken in.

By the last couple of days of our trip we were experts. We could slide in and get a couple of tickets from the kiosk, file right through the gate, navigate our way to the right train, and head to our destination just like real Parisians. We were a part of the assembly line of people who knew exactly what they were doing. We also found the Paris Metro to fun. It was new and different to us and it was a part of this culture that we grew to appreciate. It was great for people watching and whenever we would emerge at a new destination on a Paris street, we never knew what was waiting above. Was the Metro intimidating and scary? Yes a little bit. But it was also an amazing part of our Paris experience, one that I would never trade.

“Paris in the Rain”

What is it about Paris and the rain? You may have heard that Paris and rain go together like peanut butter and chocolate. One of the best paintings from the great Impressionist Gustave Caillebotte depicted a rainy day in Paris. In the movie “Midnight in Paris” the main character Gil Pender has an attraction to walking in Paris in the rain. In “Sabrina” Audrey Hepburn said Paris smells its sweetest when it rains. There’s just something about this city, already magical in every way, that changes when it rains.

During our week-long stay in Paris we became well acquainted with the rain. I think every day we encountered a shower or two. And while it was unusually wet, it didn’t affect the Parisians one bit. Unlike here in the States where many people run for cover at the first few drops of moisture, Parisians keep walking – carrying on their day without ever missing a step. A colorful array of umbrellas pop up and move along the busy sidewalks bumping together like colorful strokes from an Impressionist’s paint brush. They move along unhindered and impervious to the falling rain.

“Do what the Parisians do”. That was a bit of wisdom I took to heart. So when the locals carried on in the rain, my wife and I carried on too. We popped both of our umbrellas during the two or three heavier showers and shared one during the lighter stuff. It was such a contrast to how things were done back home. When it starts to rain here we dash for our vehicles. In Paris, you just keep walking all while looking at the nice new shiny gloss that the rain gives the city.

There’s also a genuinely romantic vibe that Paris in the rain puts out. Seeing the sidewalks reflect the light from the streetlights. Watching the cobblestones dance as the water between each rock shines bright under the daylight. Paris has a distinct and undeniable look and feel in the rain. But the true romance comes under the umbrella. Walking arm-in-arm, huddled closer than necessary to avoid the light rain, in Paris is an experience that simple words can’t describe.

The rain gives life to the trees, the flowers, the grass, and the animals of the land. But it also gives a new life to the city of Paris. Not a better life, but a new one. The city takes on a different character in the rain and you can’t help but be captivated by it. Whether it’s the city or the person sharing the dry shelter of your umbrella, you’re bound to connect with something brought out by one of Paris’ most romantic events – the beautiful rain.

Paris Under the Lights

Leonid Afremov

It’s well-known that Paris is called “The City if Light” and it’s easy to understand why once the sun goes down. During the day, Paris Is a vibrant city overflowing with life. People move like worker ants along the busy streets, up and down the sidewalks, and through the metro stations. Excited tourists heading for the big attractions and determined Parisians making their daily commute. Each lend to the incredible energy that the city is known for. But at the end of the day when the sun sets, when the Parisian’s workday is done, when the Louvre and d’Orsay close their doors, a whole new Paris unfolds before your eyes.

One regret that I have concerning our trip to Paris was that we didn’t spend more time in the city after dark. We went in June where it’s still daylight at 10 PM. It was also our first ever trip to Paris. As with most typical first-time travelers we had several things planned for each day so staying out into the early hours of the morning wasn’t feasible. Now don’t get me wrong, there were advantages to the long days. We had plenty of daylight to sightsee and explore and we used that time to venture all around the city. But my small taste of nighttime in Paris revealed another beautiful layer of this magical place.

Paris is a proud city. It’s proud of its culture. It’s proud of its history. It’s proud of its beauty. That doesn’t change at night. After dark the city lights up, showcasing its beauty under an array of gorgeous lights. Whether it’s the Notre Dame Cathedral or a popular corner café, Paris under the lights offers an entirely new appeal. The golden glow of the bridges, the monuments, and Haussmann’s architecture generates a special energy and vibrancy that’s unique and different from what you get during the day. It’s hard to explain but I felt it. I genuinely felt it.

Now each of our days in Paris wound down in pretty much the same way. We spent the full day exploring the city, seeing the sights, and tasting the culture. We would then make our way back to our hotel in the 7th arrondissement to rest and freshen up before heading back out to enjoy a wonderful meal. Each night we arrived at our restaurant of choice for that evening with a little bit of daylight remaining. During our delightful 2-hour dining experiences, night would fall and Paris would light up. A whole new city greeted us each night as we left the restaurants and the beautiful after dark walks that followed were moments of our trip that I’ll never forget.

The nighttime walks in Paris are indescribable. To put it in inadequate words, you feel a deep inner happiness and a state of absolute contentment as you walk the streets of this beautiful city at night. I also felt an overwhelming sense of awe stemming from both the beauty and the realization of where I was. But there’s another component to Paris at night – a component that’s been captured over the years in movies, books, and music. It’s romance and there’s a reason why Paris is considered one of the most romantic cities in the entire world. You can’t help but feel it. In one part it’s a romantic attraction to the city itself. As you walk under the night lights of Paris, the city woos you and romances you with the sheer beauty of its appearance and culture. I was taken in. I truly fell in love with Paris during these nighttime strolls.

But the true romantic magnetism of Paris comes with sharing it with the one you love. Those after dinner walks were made all the more precious by the fact that I spent them in the company of my wonderful wife. We walked hand-in-hand down streets soaking up the culture and each other’s company. One lovely night we walked from our café in the 6th arrondissement all the way to our hotel in the 7th. Another night we strolled the Champs de Mars where we stood and let Eiffel’s tower sweep away with its breathtaking light show. I particularly remember another night where a light rain was falling. We huddled close together under our umbrella just as all the Parisians did, never letting the rain slow us down, but enjoying it. The wet cobblestones on the streets glistened under the lights and the gentle sounds of the raindrops on our umbrella only magnified the experience. It couldn’t get more romantic.

Most of our nighttime walks together were spent enjoying our new but temporary neighborhood in the 7th arrondissement. It was during these times that we gained not only a familiarity but an affection for area streets such as Rue Saint-Dominique, Avenue Bosquet, Rue de Grenelle, Avenue de La Motte-Picquet, and of course the lovely Rue Cler. And while each were amazing in their own way during the day, they showed an entirely different personality at night. Their new energy and charm was infectious and undeniable. The streets shined. The buildings glowed. The cafés burst with light and excitement. There were more smiling faces. There were more cuddling couples. Everything seemed to change when darkness fell and the lights came on in Paris, France.

We finished every single day in Paris with a slow, deliberate walk under the city’s nighttime lights. Never were we anxious to arrive at our hotel. Never were we wanting our walk to end. Such is the spell cast by the world’s most romantic city. There’s a real attraction, a seduction, that grabs you from the moment you first experience Paris under the lights. And one of my biggest regrets is that we didn’t have more time to experience it even more. But that’s one of the great things about Paris. That’s part of its magic. You never feel as though you’ve seen it all. You never feel as though you have experienced enough. Paris teases you with new pleasures. Paris winks at you and smiles. Paris leaves you wanting more. And then Paris draws you back. For the lovers of the city, these are feelings we’ve all experienced. These are the feelings that are amplified during the Paris nights. And these are the feelings that assure us that we will one return to the “City of Light”.

So this is the Champs Élysées?

Antoine Blanchard

No one can question the fact that the Champs-Élysées is one of the most famous avenues in the entire world. This incredibly historic strip is bookended by Napoleon’s glorious Arc de Triomphe to the west and the lovely Place de la Concorde to the east. One of the things I was so eager to do during our visit to Paris was to walk the Champs-Élysées. During the planning of our trip my mind was fixated on the history of this amazing one mile plus stretch. I thought about the people who once walked this swanky, upscale street during the 18th century. And how could I not think of the German’s march down the Champs-Élysées after occupying Paris only to be outdone by the celebration of liberation via the Allies march down the same street. So much history and I was going to get the chance to experience it. Obviously I had built up a perception of the Champs-Élysées that was perhaps a bit unfair and unrealistic. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a worthwhile experience.

The Champs-Élysées

I stood at the top of the Arc de Triomphe and gazed down at this famous street. It was buzzing with energy and vibrancy that I could feel even as I stood at a distance. We made our way under the chaotic but always entertaining Place de l’Étoile and resurfaced on the corner of the Champs-Élysées. I had read that the avenue had become the spot for high-end shopping. We quickly found that to be true as my wife noticed Cartier. I had never heard of this luxury jeweler but she certainly had. We never went in but the fact that it was beyond our price range was evident by our photo taking of the sparkling diamonds in the window display. That was all of Cartier we would be taking home.

From there I began to realize that the only history to admire would have to be in my head. The Champs-Élysées has become a shopping hot spot for tourists. Several other upscale brands have stores there including Louis Vuitton and Hugo Boss. But it’s also the home of Adidas, Gap, Abercrombie Fitch, Disney, and Nike. Even car companies such as Mercedes, Renault, and Toyota have elaborate almost futuristic showrooms for their ultra-cool concept cars. There was even a McDonald’s plopped right in the middle of the other attractive but overpriced cafes. I have to admit, even though I had read that the Champs-Élysées had become a location frequented predominantly by tourists, it was far more commercial than I anticipated.

But it’s not as if we didn’t enjoy our stroll. In fact, much to my surprise, we had a splendid time. There were still touches that made the Champs-Élysées distinctly Parisian. The biggest example was the Ladurée Champs Elysées. As my wife and I weaved through the shoulder-to-shoulder sidewalk traffic, Ladurée caught our attention. It set on the opposite side of the street and I instantly felt a slight tingle in my sweet tooth. We crossed the avenue like the confident psuedo-Parisians we had become and were greeted by a deflating sight. Ladurée Champs Elysées was undergoing an extensive renovation project and the main shop was closed to the public. We could have cried. But on the sidewalk was a makeshift Ladurée selling many of their sweet self-indulgent pleasures. We went through the line and got our fix of macaroons – coffee for my wife, straight chocolate for me. Mine were snuggly packaged in Ladurée’s classy cylindrical containers. Those small containers now sit on my bar at home – simple treasures.

The Champs-Élysées

We walked past more stores and cafes before eventually hitting the calmer end of the avenue lined with benches and chestnut trees. It’s there, just before reaching Place de la Concorde, that we sat watching the traffic and resting our sore feet. We talked about what we had seen and what we were to do next. We had just walked together down the most famous avenue on the planet. It still feels a bit surreal even as I sit here now, over 4,600 miles away from the City of Light. We didn’t sit there long and looking back now I regret it. Those were some of the best moments of our trip and I can’t express how much I would love to be sitting on the bench with my wife under the chestnut trees on the Champs Elysées.

The Champs Elysées wasn’t how I had envisioned it. It wasn’t the historical experience that I had anticipated. But perhaps my expectations were misguided. The Champs Elysées has evolved. Whether for better or for worse would be a fun discussion, but the truth is it has changed. Yet despite this, we had a marvelous and memorable time. What’s more, the true treat has been in the reflection. I realize that what we experienced may not have been what I had expected but it was uniquely Parisian nonetheless. And as I flip through my photos of Paris, I find my smile just as wide when looking at our photos from the Champs Elysées. The scrumptuous Ladurée, the dazzling automobiles, the perfectly manicured sidewalks, our McDonald’s experience – It all reminded me of what the Champs Elysées has become. It also reminded me of just how much fun we had there and of how anxious I am to go back.

Visiting the Locations of “Midnight in Paris”

It was only a little over a month ago that my wife and I made our first visit to Paris, France. Obviously this amazing city has tons of history and culture to offer and its sheer beauty, natural vibrancy, and great food make it a destination that shouldn’t be missed. But as a movie fan, and in this case a huge fan of Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris”, I saw our visit as an opportunity to see some of the locations he chose for his film (as well as several other Paris movies). We wandered all over the city from Montmartre to the Latin Quarter, from the upscale 7th arrondissement to Les Marais, and along the way I ran into several of Allen’s spots. So I thought it would be cool to share them here, not just as another way to drool over Paris (something I could easily do), but as a chance to share the great experience I had as a movie fan.

MUSEE RODIN

Early in the film we get our first real glimpse into Paul’s true pseudo-intellectual self absorption as they visit The Rodin Museum. As the four are admiring Rodin’s popular sculpture “The Thinker”, Paul flexes his faux knowledge of Rodin until he is corrected by the guide as well as Gil. Paul will have none of it and goes as far as to argue with the guide. Gil later returns to ask the guide for a favor.

I loved our visit to Musee Rodin. The inside collection was fabulous but for me the true treasures were in the beautiful gardens and wonderfully placed sculptures none better than “The Thinker”. While much smaller in scale than the Louvre or the Orsay, the Rodin Museum still managed to be a favorite spot of mine in all of Paris.

PLACE DAUPHINE

In one of the most romantic scenes in the movie, Gil and Adriana take a nighttime stroll and end up on the terrace at Restaurant Paul’s in Place Dauphine. It’s here that Gil gives her the earrings and then pours his heart out to her before a carriage comes to transport them back even further in time.

The cool thing is that Restaurant Paul isn’t a fictional place. It sits right in the cozy Place Dauphine. Unfortunately due to the time of day the restaurant was closed but we did get a chance to take pictures and admire the cool setting for what was one of my favorite scenes in the film.

SHAKESPEARE AND COMPANY

There’s a brief scene in “Midnight in Paris” that shows Gil walking out of Shakespeare and Company. It’s certainly not a pivotal scene but it shows Gil on one of his strolls admiring the city that he truly loves.

I loved Shakespeare and Company! We stumbled on it after walking around the Latin Quarter. There is such a great feel of history as you approach the cool English bookstore. The narrow aisles inside house an amazing assortment of titles and going upstairs takes you right back to the days of Hemingway, Joyce, and Sylvia Beach. I bought a copy of “The Great Gatsby” and got my Shakespeare and Company stamp on the inside. I left one happy traveler.

QUAI DE BOURBON

After Gil is picked up by the old-time classic car, it takes him back in time to a  lively party on Quai de Bourbon. It’s at this party that Gil notices Cole Porter singing and playing the piano. It’s here that he also meets Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald. In the film we see the street as the car drives up and this was Gil’s first taste of the Roaring Twenties.

Quai de Bourbon winds around the tip of Ile Saint-Louis. We crossed over from the Notre Dame cathedral and came across the street by mistake. In fact at the time I didn’t remember the name but I most certainly recognized it from the film. It was a great moment of discovery and I couldn’t help but reflect back on the film as we walked down the street.

QUAI DES ORFEVRES

Quai des Orfevres appears in the movie on two different occasions. One of the scenes has Gil walking along the Seine clearing his mind and soaking up the city. Later in the movie it’s here that Gil and Adriana comes across a distraught Zelda threatening to jump into the Seine.

We came across this lovely location on a number of occasions. It was a gorgeous cobblestone walk along the river lined with trees and featuring some beautiful views of Paris. When you see it, it’s so easy to see why Woody Allen chose to include this particular location in his film.

SQUARE JEAN XXII

After buying an old book written by Adriana at a riverside book seller, Gil convinces the guide from the Rodin Museum the translate it for him. The two sit on a bench at Square Jean XXIII with Notre Dame standing tall in the background. It’s here that Gil finds out that there is a true connection between him and Adriana.

After visiting Notre Dame we spent a little time in the lovely Square Saint Jean. It’s here that you get the best views of Notre Dame’s buttresses and really highlights the Gothic architecture. The park is lined with benches, trees, and play areas for children. They also have bathrooms that you have to pay to use! No thanks.

PONT ALEXANDRE III

While it also appears in Woody Allen’s opening montage, the bridge known as Pont Alexandre III is also in the final scene of the film. Gil has broken up with Inez and is wandering around the city when he bumps into Gabrielle again on Pont Alexandre III. It’s here he tells her he’s staying and Paris. He offers to walk her home just as the rain starts to fall. It’s a wonderful ending.

After leaving Les Invalides we made our way to Pont Alexandre III. The beautiful ornate bridge was a sight. Tourists were snapping photos and brides were having wedding pictures made. We walked under it and over it admiring the River Seine and the wonderful architecture of the bridge itself.

There are so many wonderful locations in the city of Paris and Woody Allen takes advantage of so many. We visited several other places that you can see in the movie and missed out on some as well. Looks like we already have our excuse to head back to what I believe may be the world’s greatest city. I truly love this city!

“The Battle of Saint-Germain-des-Prés”

Jeffrey Dale Starr

It seems to be human nature to over-dramatize things. In the United States we blow everything, from a politician’s quote to a little league baseball game, out of proportion. We feed off of drama and often times when none exists we manufacture some. But this certainly isn’t restricted to just Americans. Some of the word’s greatest disagreements came as a result of people making more out of something small than they should. But on a much smaller scale good drama, either real or manufactured, can make for really good conversation. Such is the case with the dueling cafes and the Battle of Saint-Germain-des-Prés.

Located in Paris’ 6th arrondissement, Saint-Germain-des-Prés rose up around the Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, one of the most historic churches on the Left Bank. Today it’s a bustling and energetic spot filled with lots of traffic, fast walkers, good shopping, and trendy cafes – none more well-known than the famous Les Deux Magots and its neighbor Café de Flore. These two famous cafes both have impressive histories going as far back to the late 1800’s and even though today they are known more as a tourist draw, they are both still significant parts of the city of Paris. But what’s even more noted about these cafes is the rivalry between them that’s been going on for decades. While actually based more on perception, preference, politics, and ‘in crowds’, many have blown the rivalry up to the point to where it’s known worldwide.

Les Deux Magots got its name from a popular play of the time and started out as a silk shop. Even today a quick peek inside will get you a glimpse at the two “magots” – mounted mandarin statues that date back to the start of the business. It later became a cafe and a meeting place for some of Paris’ intellectual, artistic, and literary crowds. Intellectuals like Jean-Paul Sartre, artists like Pablo Picasso, and writers like Ernest Hemingway were just some of the young, energetic characters that frequented the place. Café de Flore has an equally rich history and it has had its share of poets, painters, and thinkers who spent time there. In fact, in the 1930’s Café de Flore became THE place to be. Many well-knowns left Les Deux Magots for Café de Flore due to its openness to the literary and artistic world as well as it’s growing attraction to left-wing thinkers. Sartre would later go as far as to call Café de Flore “home”.

But which is the better cafe? Which is the fashionable place to be seen? Parisians are all about fashion. But what’s fashionable for Parisians isn’t restricted to what you wear. For Parisians there are fashionable cars, fashionable friends, fashionable food, and of course fashionable cafe’s. Over the years Café de Flore has drawn more of the “in” crowd and even today it’s viewed by many as the more fashionable cafe of the two. But it’s not as though Les Deux Magots had a terrace full of empty tables. And even though both establishments are basically tourist hotbeds, there are still those in Paris who will judge your societal standing based upon which of these cafes you chose.

As newcomers to Paris, we found ourselves faced with the weighty choice of Les Deux Magots or Café de Flore. According to those better versed in this inflated conflict, this was not something to be taken lightly. It was a decision that could reveal everything from our inherent coolness to our social worth. It would reveal just how connected we were to culture, philosophy, and the arts. Much better writers than I have documented the long-standing battle for the business of the self-proclaimed intelligentsia, and here we were about to make a decision that would either identify us with them or place us among the pseudo-intellectuals and unenlightened. Talk about being burdened with a major choice. Oh, and didn’t I mention that we tend to over-dramatize things?

We walked down Boulevard Saint-Germain until we stumbled upon the lively Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The first cafe we came to was Les Deux Magots. The corner cafe was in a wonderful location with the Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés in clear site of those eating on the right side of the terrace and the flowing energy of one of Boulevard Saint-Germain’s most energized intersections in view for those on the left side. The perfectly manicured facade of the building was an attention getter. The white awning with green trim and gold lettering along with the wood and glass cafe front exuded class and the small white-top tables and wooden chairs were very inviting. There were sprinkles falling from the light gray overcast sky and because of that the front row of tables were left vacant. But the rows closer to the building were filling up fast and the inside looked to be busy. Waiters in black suits and bow ties with long white aprons whizzed in and out of the stylish revolving front door with trays of food and drinks held high over their heads. Les Deux Magots left quite an impression.

We walked on and right next door was Café de Flore. The two cafes were separated only by a few beautiful tall trees, a newstand, and the small Rue Saint-Benoit. Café de Flore also sat on a corner and it’s facade resembled that of Les Deux Magots. A full white awning with green lettering stretched around the corner cafe. Just above the awning attractive greenery surrounded chic cursive lettering that spelled out Café de Flore in white. A small group was huddled around the few tables near the front door while many others had grabbed the tight-knit tables under the extended awning on the Boulevard Saint-Germain side of the building. The cafe was buzzing with hungry and thirsty patrons, some looking as new as we were to the area while others looked right at home. Café de Flore’s charm and spirit did nothing to make our decision between the two any easier.

We stepped back toward the little newstand to weigh our options. We couldn’t leave something so monumental and crucial to chance. How could we choose between two cafe’s with such history? Both places had left good first impressions and both places were full of people. We meandered towards Café de Flore then we slowly walked back towards Les Deux Magots. I could sense that my typical indecisiveness combined with the ridiculous over-dramatization of this decision was stretching my lovely wife’s patience. So I used an exhaustive and deeply intellectual approach to making the choice. We chose Les Deux Magots for no other reason than our two kids love the way the name sounds. Before we left them for our week-long trip we had told them about some of the places we might visit and eat at. They loved the sound Les Duex Magots made as it rolled off my faux French tongue. So what other influence would I possibly use for such an important decision?

We walked back to Les Duex Magots just in time to grab the last vacant table we saw. Before long our slender (and very French) waiter dressed in black with a long white apron was bringing us our meal – a salad for my wife, a club sandwich for me, and two Cokes. While the food was simple, it was delicious. We sat, talked, and watched the steady parade of people walking by in our fantastic view of Boulevard Saint-Germain. We watched the waiters as they took care of the large number of customers, never letting the revolving front door come to a stop. We watched the people sitting around us. Some were looking at maps and tour guides. Others were reading French newspapers or conversing with friends with their lightning-fast French tongues. It was a lovely mix of tourists and locals. We finished our meal with some of the most amazing hot chocolate – thick and rich to the point of almost feeling sinful. It was the perfect way to end the meal.

As we left I felt great. I had just ate a wonderful meal. I had a great conversation with my wife. We had a wonderful view of the city. I loved the surrounding scene and the local ambiance. But I have to be honest, I didn’t feel smarter. I didn’t feel more fashionable. I didn’t feel my societal worth had went up several notches. Had I made the wrong choice? Is that why I wasn’t feeling that I had connected with the true intellectual side of the culture? Should we have chosen Café de Flore? Or is the whole dueling cafes thing another instance of us blowing things out of proportion? Is it more about “I like Magots club sandwich better than Flores” or ” I prefer Flores’ salad over Magots”? All I know is that I had a great meal and a great experience at a historical cafe in Paris. But what about next time? When we return to Paris one day and we’re faced with the choice between Les Deux Magots or neighbor Café de Flore, will we go to Flore for something new or we will return to Magots for another pitcher a glorious hot chocolate? I don’t know, maybe we’ll just go across the street to Brasserie Lipp.