Painting + Paris

It’s been a long, hard drama filled week since we got back from Paris.

And I don’t mean “drama filled” as in Soap Opera, tragedies or problems -  I quite literally mean Drama Filled because my brain and diminishing energy reserves are all consumed with these bloody primary theatre performances I’m organising.

Case in point – it’s Friday evening.

Am I spending this time relaxing with a glass of wine in front of the TV or enjoying a book or even scintillating conversation?

Hell no. I’ve been sitting out on my balcony painting scenery. For 3 hours.

End result? - They’re no Monet, but I happen to think my 6 backdrops of ocean waves look pretty darn good.

However there is blue Acryllic paint frickin EVERYWHERE. Including but not limited to: my t-shirt, my jumper (it got cold), my feet, my nose, my nails, my hair, my shoes, my glass, the floor, the sink, the door and possibly the couch but I’ve turned the cushion over so M doesn’t see that .......

And I’m currently sitting in front of the computer wearing a Pirate Hat.

And looking quite fetching if I say so myself.

Arrr.

Paris last weekend with Hels and Tom was excellent.

We dubbed it a “Festival of Food” – which is a polite way of saying we stuffed our faces for 48 hours.

We came. We saw. We ate.

What we didn’t do was take many photos. A combination of average weather, the fact that we already have shitloads of Paris photos (and that our hands were busy transporting food into our mouths) means I have nothing much to show you.

Hels and Tom are as crazy and loud and eccentric as ever and we relished spending time wandering the streets and showing them some of our favourite places.

We started our festival of food with Pizza in the 6e Arr on Friday night (Pizza Positano – highly recommend) and a few glasses of vino. Saturday morning Marathon Man was up bright and early to do a brisk 22 kms while the rest of us schlepped our way to a cafe for pastries and coffee. A fun and dawdling walk through the 5e and 6e with a requisite stop at Pierre Hermé to load up on an obscene amount of macarons and then on to the Saxe-Breteuil Market to pick up provisions for a picnic on the Champ de Mars lawns looking up at the Eiffel Tower. A perfect Saturday afternoon in the sunshine. 

After that it was a few coffees and discussions on existentialism at the famous, but still remarkably cute Café de Flore. More wandering and we conveniently found ourselves on the Île Saint-Louis, perfectly situated to show Hels and Tom some of the best ice cream in the world – Berthillon. Their caramel au beurre salé is out of this world. I eat enough things flavoured caramel au beurre salé that when I die, they can cut out my liver and spread it over a sundae.

Ok, that was a gross digression ... 

More drinks and then it was time for a late dinner at Au Vieux Comptoir. I’d read about this restaurant on a blog and had noted the name – so I suggested it to Hels and Tom, made the call and got the last table at 22.00! Good thing we weren’t exactly in need of an early dinner. 

I can honestly say that it was one of the best meals I’ve had in 2.5 years of living in France and that it deserves its excellent reputation.

Traditional, seasonal, fresh food – simply cooked and presented thoughtfully. Lovely, warm, friendly service and lots of little touches that made it an exceptional – and not excessively expensive meal.

A decidedly slower start on Sunday – we wandered around Bercy Village and had brunch in the Marais before it was time to head to CDG – now that actually WAS a drama. The RER B that goes to the airport wasn’t actually running to the airport, however there was no information about this anywhere until you reached Gare du Nord, where there were HUNDREDS of stressed out people with luggage wondering what le f*ck was going on. 

After getting the situation sorted, catching a different train and then taking a 15 minute bus (that took 35 minutes,) we were all certain that we’d missed our flights. A quick farewell and some sprinting through airports (alongside many, many other stressed people bolting through the terminal) and we all made it  – although Hels messaged me and said they got the serious stink-eye from their check in lady and were the last ones on board. So big sighs of relief - missing our flights would have put a serious dent in our enjoyment of the weekend.

Suffice to say it has been plain pasta/meat and salad all this week as we detox. I’m also getting ready to do it all again when we go  back to Paris in a week!

For now though I’m off to wash all this paint off.

xxx

Edited to add: I also have paint in my ear?!?! WTF?!?! How is that even possible?