In June 2007, Ms. Winer and I retired.
When one achieves a milestone, rewards equal to the achievement should be awarded. So, on September 9, 2007, Ms. Winer and I arrived in Paris, France. During the next 24 days we enjoy more than the law should allow. We chose this time of year mainly because it is the end of the tourist season but before the unpleasant winter weather. Instead of finding accommodation in the center of Paris, we chose a small comfortable hotel in Maison-Laffitte (ML). The city is about 20 minutes on the red train on the REI A line north of Paris.
While it was a bit awkward at times as we spent most of our waking hours in Paris, it provided us with what we wanted: a peaceful retreat from hectic Paris life. We also love the interaction that comes from repeat visits to a restaurant. Ms. Winer and I are addicted to food. I am the diary and I have a record of all the food we ate, where we ate it, and the wines we drank.
After arriving at ML and locating myself, I left Ms. Winer to rest and went on a reconnaissance mission. The goal was to find a small restaurant that reflected the cuisine of this area of France. I found it. L’Olivier on Avenue de Saint Germain. Talk about hitting the jackpot. Olivier the owner was the waiter, the maittredi, the sweeper and sommelier. The restaurant was very cozy with tables for about 20 customers. (I’ll tell you about a couple of wonderful experiences we had at Olivier’s in another moment.) Suffice to say, we loved the restaurant. In fact, we ate their entire menu during our stay at ML.
The next day, September 10, Ms. Winer’s “39” Birthday. I can’t really remember what anniversary was of that auspicious day. It’s best forgotten. I wanted to go to the Eiffel Tower. As the Old Winer had not discovered the metro system, we disembarked from the REI train at the Arc de Triumph and ambled through central Paris in the general direction of the Eiffel Tower. My navigational skills are quite suspect, but since the tower is the tallest item on the horizon, we managed to find it. (I am something of a world traveler). I’ve seen the Space Needle in Seattle, the arches at Los Angeles airport, the Blessed Family church in Barcelona, and the Grand Canyon, so I’m not that easily impressed.
Being under the Eiffel Tower was awesome. Being at the top was VERY awesome. Mrs. Winer had her birthday lunch in the small cafe-restaurant located on the second level overlooking the river Seine with its boat traffic and bridges. Then we choose (a very strange choice) to go down the stairs. Ms. Winer had heard that some famous people had done this and thought it would be a good idea. When we hit the ground, it was obvious that they were a little younger than us. Having climbed a mountain or two in my day, one has learned that going down is actually more difficult than going up. But we did it. That night for dinner we went to the grocery store, bought a wonderful French goat cheese, ham, French bread (what else), an apple, a bottle of 2005 Chateau du Calvaire St Emilion Grand Cru wine for $ 6 and a bottle of 2005 Domaine St. Antoine Sablet Cotes du Rhone Village for $ 5 and chocolate for dessert. We carried our purchases to our hotel room and indulged ourselves.
Happy birthday Mrs. Winer!
Later I will tell you about our wonderful 10 days traveling from Lyon to Paris through Boujourlais, the wine region of Burgundy. We vigorously attack the most pernicious mistake disgruntled travelers make: “The French are rude to Americans, especially if French is not spoken.” The French are not rude! I can vomit my total accumulation of the French language in about 45 seconds. My Spanish is quite good. My English, as you know, somewhat fishy. We ate in small cafes and elegant restaurants in the center of Paris; in tiny places in the mountain of the wine country where English was primary school at best; We talk with winegrowers, with people on the street, etc. And I can say that we did not experience a single incident in which we felt badly treated by a Frenchman. We will be back? … you can bet. Right after our trip to Tuscany and Spain.
