The Paris Effect

admiration

Chapter One

They reached Pompidou Center just as morning’s first sun broke through. In their rush to get settled in, it didn’t take Mia and Tooty long to wheel their suitcases past the crush of couples, students, tourists and assorted characters to their little slice of heaven, a two-bed apartment on rue Geoffroy l’Angevin, their home for seven whole days and nights. After punching in two different codes, one outside the building and one on the inside security door, they made their way up the tiny, dark elevator into an apartment that was bright with light, showing off a birds-eye view of Pompidou Center.

This is perfect! said Tooty with a big, open smile on her face.

No complaints here, replied Mia, finally able to breathe, sensing her client was pleased.

Mia Martelli’s research had paid off. Her job is to create and deliver the ultimate dream vacation in Paris. Most of her clients book just one week (her minimum requirement for Paris) which means she has to adjust her own slow, leisurely idea of travel with their vision of a dream vacation. Every client is different so the arrangements vary with each new companion. Mia always searches for a good deal, a great location and easy access to public transportation. After that, it’s a matter of what feels right for her customer’s needs. She had a good feeling that Tooty would enjoy the Marais. Their Beaubourg neighborhood was the right mix of lively people, restaurants, stores and attitude.

Other than figuring out how to use the cable t.v. (oops, no English speaking channels), the apartment seemed straightforward enough. Not too fancy or too austere, it coupled practicality with the feeling that you were living a bit of la vie en rose in Paris.

Tooty’s personality profile (Mia’s best ally for planning a memorable vacation for her customer) revealed that she lives to walk. Literally. Obsessively. Compulsively. An amazing 70-something-year-old fitness buff and fiercely competitive, she race-walks a minimum of four miles a day and can lift 10-lb. weights effortlessly. Her eating regimen is organic, green-based and rigid with only an occasional bite of meat. She wants to go to Paris to prove to herself that she can walk virtual marathons in the famous city of light.

During the pre-trip consultation, Mia counseled her that Paris is indeed a walking city but much, much more. Tooty, Paris is for PLEASURE.

Oh, but I LOVE to walk! I’m hoping I’ll be fit enough to race-walk the New York Marathon after I do Paris.

After quickly putting away their clothes and toiletries, they took inventory of what they needed to stock their tiny Paris kitchen and set off in the crush of people below. It seemed like everyone had landed on their doorstep. Locals mixed with tourists of every nationality. The Marais is an explosion of history, shop fronts, restaurants and pure inspiration.

Let’s check out our neighborhood first and do a wander so you feel comfortable here, Mia suggested. Then we can sit down to a decadent lunch to get you in the mood for the upcoming week in Paris.

Thinking it over, Tooty frowned and shook her head. That’s ok, we can just grab a sandwich and some fruit and eat while we walk. No need to sit, I want to hit a lot more than just our neighborhood on my first day. Remember, I’m here to walk, walk, walk!

No worries, we’ll walk plenty, smiled Mia.

They set off down rue Rambuteau, past a chocolaterie that featured shiny, tempting chocolates in every shape and color and an outrageous brioche with rose praline sprinkled on the outside, looking way too beautiful to eat. They flew past a tempting patisserie called Pain de Sucre with fantasy fruit tarts, breads, and marshmallows dazzling the window front. Nothing made Tooty moderate her stride. Not slowing a beat, Mia kept Tooty’s quick pace all the way past a restaurant adorned with an impossibly cute bulldog without taking a look at the posted menu. She explained to her client that by law all French restaurants have to post their menus on the exterior of their storefront. Seemingly uninterested in this information, Tooty pounded the pavement on down the road, pumping her arms energetically.

They didn’t even slow down when they passed the gorgeous Archives National as rue Rambuteau became rue des Francs Bourgeois. They passed countless tempting side streets that beckoned but kept on trucking. As a matter of fact, Mia was starting to despair that Tooty wasn’t really seeing the city when all of a sudden, as they approached Place des Vosges, the fitness firebrand came to a screeching halt. She gazed at the elegant address, built in the 17th century. It had the most amazing architecture Tooty had ever seen. Identical mansions made of red brick and white stone graced the formal gardens in a perfectly symmetrical square. She noticed people for the first time, real Parisians, taking a moment out of their morning to enjoy the serene and gentle atmosphere of the famous park. The green grass looked inviting as did the sandbox where adorable children quietly played. With everyone smiling and relaxed, it seemed like a good time to take a moment to slow down.

How beautiful. This must be what you meant when you said Paris is a city of pleasure.

Trying not to sound preachy, Mia agreed, Yes, this is a good example of a time-out moment for the average Parisian, taking time off from the rigors of daily life to stop and smell the roses, so to speak.

Admiring the handsome young man who was, in turn, being admired by some giggling teenage girls, Tooty and Mia reveled in their surroundings. They noticed a couple already sitting on the grass eating an early lunch of bread, cheese and salami when Tooty suddenly expressed her desire to have a good lunch. I know we haven’t walked that far but maybe we should sit down in one of those famous Parisian bistros you talked about and have a traditional meal. After all, it is our first day and you can get rid of calories better at noon than at night. I’ll make up for it afterwards with a monster walk.

Grateful for the change in plan, Mia reversed directions and headed toward one of her favorite local bistros, Le Hangar, located just behind the Anne Frank garden. The tables out front were set so the hungry duo got to cherry pick the best seats in the house as it was just then noon straight up. On a day this gorgeous, they were of the same mind to eat outside. Madame welcomed them with a sweet smile and a menu and came back a few minutes later with a (free) amuse bouche of toasts and black olive tapenade. Tooty had a perfect view of the Musée de Poupée (Doll Museum) and was delighted to see a handful of sweet little kids trudging to the Jardins Anne Frank with their baby dolls and kick scooters, along with Mama or Papa close by. It was an irresistible scene.

I’ve never had a tapenade this delicious, said Tooty as she quickly scarfed up her tasty treat.

Can you taste the anchovy?

Ick, there’s no way I like anchovies. They sound gross.

Mia looked at her ruefully. Well, it looks like you do. Would you like to share a carafe of wine? Red or white, what’s your preference?

Tooty gave Mia a disparaging look and lectured she never drinks more than four ounces of wine a day and it must always be red since red has more anti-oxidants than white. Good health comes first.

OK, consented Mia, We’ll each do our own thing with wine on this trip and purposely ordered a demi-carafe of white for herself just to make a point. She then ordered a green bean salad, fois gras on olive oil potato puree and a slab of molten chocolate cake, knowing she didn’t need to place the order for dessert right away but wanting to make her point with Tooty about long, lazy and extravagant French lunches.

Tooty liked the sound of the healthy green bean salad and spotted a vegetarian risotto dish on the menu that didn’t look too compromising. No dessert. One glass of red wine.

Mmmm, delicious! Extraordinary, really! I had no idea how good green beans could be! raved Tooty as she scooped up every forkful in amazement. Mia took her time to taste every bite fully while Tooty swiftly put another forkful in her mouth.

When the main course arrived, Tooty made a face at Mia’s foie gras, insisting she would never eat so much fat in just one meal and certainly never ever in her lifetime consume liver. She worried about its implied cruelty to animals and mentioned the ban in certain parts of the U.S.

Good, there’s more for me! I won’t even offer you a bite, smiled Mia as she lovingly tucked into another delectable morsel.

Well, maybe I should taste a teeny piece just so I can tell everyone at home that I tried something so frenchy and gross, hinted Tooty as Mia cut a tiny morsel for her to try.

It’s not liver-y at all! she stammered. It’s actually delicious --- in an evil, buttery way – not that I would ever order it, of course!

Of course. I’m proud of you for trying it. Tell me more about yourself. We’ll get arrested if we don’t sit here for at least an hour and a half for a proper French lunch.

Ha, that’s a good one! Imagine taking that much time just for lunch. Taking another big forkful, she continued. Oh well, this is fun and I’m probably a bit jet lagged so I guess I can wait until tomorrow to get my full workout in. I’m into this risotto, you know, carbs are good for you when you’re exercising. They keep your engine powered.

I take it your world mostly revolves around good health --- getting it and keeping it.

That’s right, I can’t even count how many unhealthy people I know. They struggle just to get up out of their chairs. I plan to be super fit until I’m 100 years old – or die trying. My days revolve around a strict schedule – healthy food --- but not too much, lots and lots of walking, aerobics, weight lifting, perfect sleep, good toilet habits, and flossing.

Mia was shaking her head affirmatively until she got to the toilet habit part, OK, too much information.....

It’s all connected. And I’m not going to get behind by spending a week in Paris. I need to hit it hard every single day. Just then, Mia’s chocolate lava cake arrived and Tooty’s eyes gave her away.

So tempting, so perfectly sinful, even health-obsessed Tooty couldn’t resist and helped finish the last several hundred calories of the cake. Feeling a little lazy after the long and delightful lunch, the two headed out again, promising they’d remember to pick up a few groceries on the way home --- once they finished their afternoon journey.

No museums for me, this week I just want to walk and discover the streets of Paris. Do you think we can get in at least five or six more miles today? asked Tooty as she re-set her pedometer.

Sure thing. Mia made a mental note to take extra vitamins this week. Let’s walk some of these other Marais streets and then cross over to the islands.

Islands in Paris? What do you mean?

We’re on the Right Bank now so as we cross the Seine, we’ll encounter two different small pieces of land, The Ile de la Cité, and the Ile Saint-Louis, both of which are tiny islands and the true center of Paris.

Wonderful. That sounds like a good workout.

Oh, it’s far better than a workout, it’s a sight worth preserving for the rest of your life. Get ready to be blown away. You’re going to love it.

While walking at a brisk but more normal pace, Tooty and Mia saw more of their Marais district. They took time to look in shop windows, admire the fashionistas of the neighborhood, and pet a couple of cute dogs along the way. Mia learned that Tooty’s other true passion was animals, dogs in particular. Their favorite street was rue Sevignier although neither one could exactly explain why. Tooty discovered the Marais was a neighborhood of narrow mysterious streets mixed with memorable historical perspective. Admiring what the French call hôtels particulaire, Mia explained they often house museums like the Carnavalet, famous for painting Paris’ long and tumultuous history and the Musée Picasso, every bit as intriguing as its namesake. She noticed a number of Americans here and there and was satisfied that her guide had picked a good area for the week. So far, so good.

When they finally turned down rue Francois Miron and walked down the cutest street ever, rue des Barres, Tooty soon saw the Seine for the first time. This is too cool! Look at the people! The boats, the buildings! This is an island? Is that Notre Dame way over there?

Mia allowed herself a smug little smile. Oui, that’s it, can you believe it? Like most things, it’s better in person, isn’t it? The islands were completely different from the cozy Marais, big, bold, sexy and oh, so French; ooh-la-la on a grand scale.

Tooty hardly noticed crossing over the bridge as she suddenly focused on the people surrounding her. Lovers kissing, street performers entertaining, and more tourists than she had seen in her life. This is crazy, she grumbled, never a fan of crowds.

You’ll get used to it. Part of it is timing. This particular slice of heaven is especially enchanting at certain times of the day when it’s less crowded. But for today, let’s try a little taste of it to celebrate your first day in Paris. They started on the Ile Saint-Louis, slowing their pace as they admired the stonework, the carefully planned streets and the clever window displays.

Tooty spied a line of people queuing up for something and leaned in to take a closer look. Don’t they have many ice cream shops in Paris? Why are there so many people lined up at a little ice cream window?

That’s Berthillon and it’s my favorite ice cream in the world! I predict six months from now you’ll wake up in the middle of the night, thinking you’ve GOT to get another taste of it!

No way could I taste it now, after that immense lunch we just ate. Are you kidding me? I can’t let myself go this week, I’ve worked too hard to get down to my fighting weight.

As Mia jumped in the back of the line, she said she hoped Tooty wouldn’t mind but she just couldn’t walk by without getting a taste. Since I’m still full, I’ll just grab a bite of sorbet. It’s less rich than the ice cream. But when it was her turn to order, she asked for two flavors in a cup, not being able to choose between the cassis and the pear. And two spoons please, just in case my friend wants to try.

Tooty couldn’t refuse the offer of just a little bite since she had never tasted either flavor in the States. She nearly dropped dead with delight. Dear God, that is priceless. It may be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth!

Wait ’til next time, when we both order ice cream.... but Tooty was already hurrying down the street so she wouldn’t be tempted.

As they crossed over the crowded bridge onto a still more jam-packed Ile de la Cité, they made their way to Notre Dame. Tooty couldn’t help but think about one of her favorite old movies ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame.’ I used to watch Lon Chaney’s ‘Hunchback’ with my brother every single year. It was must-see t.v. back then, almost as much as ‘The Wizard of Oz’.

I’ve seen that 100 times too, but what comes to mind for me first is Napoleon crowning himself emperor inside this cathedral. It gives me goose bumps. It’s too crowded to visit just now, but take a look at the façade. We’ll look at it again at night. It’s positively incredible and I’m not sure if it’s the architecture, the setting, or the history but it’s unmistakable. You’ll never confuse this church with any other edifice you see in Europe.

As they sliced through the crowds, Mia pointed out another well-known sight that Tooty had vaguely heard of but was disappointed in at first. Mia identified it as the Sainte-Chapelle. Don’t think for a minute that this tiny church is one bit less fabulous than Notre Dame. Once you get inside, you’ll see. It will curl your toes. I’ll save all the juicy details for when we return.

I’ll just have to take your word for it, for now, let’s keep walking. What else is here?

As they approached one of her favorite squares, romantic place Dauphine, Mia knew Tooty would finally want to slow down and get her fill of the storybook setting. This is where Yves Montand and Simone Signouret, the famous French couple, used to live. Isn’t it dreamy? she sighed.

They stood and watched a young couple playing boules with an old man and a young girl and enjoyed watching the happy crowd already tucking into early aperitifs at the restaurants on the square. Paris life felt like heaven.

Suddenly, Tooty needed a restroom. Mia suggested she walk into the little bar nearby to use the facilities. Make sure you look at the zinc bar on your way in and out as well as all the characters inside.

When Tooty returned outside, Mia asked Did you take a peek?

Yes, and I pooped too, said a relieved Tooty.

Mia almost had to pick herself up off the floor. I asked if you peeked at the bar, silly goose. I generally won’t be checking on your bathroom habits! A pink faced Tooty realized her obsessive thoughts about her daily routine made her a little weird. They both shared a good laugh.

This is great and I really like what I see but I need to keep up my plan of attack. Let’s walk some more, said Tooty as she dried her eyes, increased her stride and pumped her arms. Let’s walk down by the water.

The Seine caused them to slow their pace even more as they admired the magical waterside competing with soaring historical architecture, all made for an unforgettable hike. They walked all the way to the Louvre, crossed over to the Left Bank and started walking back. Tooty stopped cold at the Place St. Michel fountain where the Archangel Michel (Michael) battled it out with Satan in a forever classic good versus evil struggle.

Tooty was struck at the sounds all around her and had to take a private moment to take it all in. I must have jet lag. Let’s head back to our side of the water and collect a few things for dinner. Salads, of course.

As they made their way back, Tooty looked hard at the Conciergerie and grimaced, That’s pretty scary looking. Most of what I’ve seen so far is pretty and feminine, this doesn’t fit. What is it?

Mia explained that the Conciergerie is where so many people were imprisoned during the French Revolution, including Marie Antoinette, the former queen, and Robespierre, the architect of the guillotine madness. It had started out as a king’s palace in the 14th century. Paris isn’t all about perfect light and impressionistic beauty. There’s good and bad, beautiful and ugly. Paris is no museum city. It breathes life and continues to ripen. On the one hand, you have the 850-year- old Notre Dame that you just saw. And then, in the very same neighborhood, down by the river, you have the very in-the-moment Paris-Plages, a man-made beach that goes up every summer in late July. Paris is never satisfied to be the number one tourist destination in the world. They know they have to continue to evolve toward an even grander future.

At the little grocery store on rue Rambuteau near their apartment, the newest neighborhood residents filled a small basket with beautiful little apples, two types of lettuce, red cabbage, a red pepper, a bag of almonds, a couple of shallots, six eggs, an avocado and four little glass containers of plain yogurt. They knew they had salads fixings like oil and vinegar already stocked in the apartment so they were good to go.

Feels like home already exclaimed Tooty as she swept into the apartment.

Oh shoot, we forgot the wine. I’ll be right back. Mia headed out the door again before Tooty had time to protest. She bought a nice affordable red and stopped at the cheesemonger’s shop for Pont l’Eveque and