Saturday, April 16, 2011

Paris and family

I love my family very much, but I also quite like the idea that they are a long flight away and cannot visit at any moment of the day. Having lived in Paris then for a number of years, it was only natural that my mom decided to visit. She ended up visiting with my two half sisters (Dad’s daugthers from a previous mariage).

Welcoming people in your apartment is fun when you have a big apartment. Paris apartment tend to be small…or in American or Australian speak: miniscule. Having more thanone person stay in your place poses a challenge. So I ended up subletting a friend’s studio not far from my apartment for the duration of my family’s visit. I left them my apartment and I stayed in my friend’s (and she was staying with her boyfriend. So everyone was happy in the end).
I went to the airport to pick them up and we took a taxi back to my apartment. The expression on their faces when they saw my apartment told a lot. An expression that said : This is it ? The tour of the apartment lasted a mere few seconds (like you just turned your head). But this was, however, made up by the fact that everything was nearby…shops, cafés, restaurants etc.
If indeed they had problem adjusting to the small sizes of things (they never saw such small cars, such narrow streets, small kitchen or small bathroom), they adjusted to café life in Paris quickly and grandly. They would spend hours in cafés watching and commenting on passers by while sipping their coffees, menthe à l’eau (mint syrup with sparkling water) or Monaco (beer with grenadine syrup). Walks are kept to a minimum as, being non-Parisians, they are more used to driving places rather than walking. They admired the way the Parisiens dress (so what else is new lol ?), but also were non plussed by the rudeness of Parisians who push people out of their way and don’t give way on sidewalks. Aside from Parisian, another thing they don’t like on sidewalks was dog shit (Boy, they would really have hated it a few years ago when there was a lot more of that -- before the law that dog owners have to pick up after their dog…not all do of course…). For the first few days, they walked gingerly on the narrow Paris sidewalks, trying to avoid both the dog shit on the ground and the hurrying parisiens all around.

What amazed me most was how they take, almost too naturally, in (to?) the gay life that is so obvious in my quarter. They liked my friends, and accepted my friends’ flamboyance as simply part of their Paris experience. Once, walking on rue Vieille du Temple (le Marais), a guy wearing a wedding dress passed by us…their comment: How pretty the dress was ! I guess I also learned something new about my family during their stay. It was also great to visit all the tourist sites with them. I may have seen and done them all but these (re)visits reminded me why I love Paris.

The family visit also made me realise how much I probably have changed since arriving here. I now speak French without much effort which impressed my family to no end (OK, I speak it with a huge accent, but the family didn’t know that…..sssshh!!!). I also realized that I have omitted ‘comfortably dressed’ from my vocabulary (replaced by ‘nicely/elegantly/parisianly dressed' even if uncomfortable): I never owned so many hats or so many bottles of perfume (with scents ranging from androgynous to mysterious, I refused 'le male' or the man not considering it totally descriptive of me) or scarves (from huge wooly black ones for the winter to light colored cotton ones for the summer…big oversized scarf is indeed a must in order to look Parisien) and leather shoes (tennis shoes are for playing tennis only….no matter that we walk everywhere here). I might be uncomfortable, my feet hurt, my neck itches…but hey, I look the part in Paris! And yes, I kiss everyone I know twice to say Bonjour or to say Au Revoir.

Paris - Dubai: Flying the A380

My gay friends always say that bigger is better….that’s why I have been wanting, ever since it went into service, to fly the Airbus A380 which is the biggest commercial airliner in service today. My choices are limited, as only a few airlines operate the type already : Singapore (the first to fly the A380), Emirates, Qantas, Air France and more recently Lufthansa.

Air France actually did short hops, for training I imagine, between Charles de Gaulle airport and London Heathrow on certain days and times with their then new A380. But my schedule did not fit their days. So, when I started looking for tickets for a holiday in Asia, Emirates via Dubai came up not only with the right price but also, from Paris to Dubai, a ride on the A380 ! I would finally get to fly on the biggest of them airplanes (joke among gays: what do you do when it’s too big….the answer : You hug it and cry).

The day when I was to ride the biggest of all came. I watched it land from Dubai from the terminal though because of the layout of CDG terminal 2 it pretty much got obsecured after the first few seconds. But I would be in this big bird finally. I got my boarding pass and was impatiently waiting to get on. Unfortunately, Emirates configure their A380 by putting all economy in the main deck and business and first classes in the upper deck…I would have liked to ride on the upper deck, but no matter. Yes, I remember telling my then 20 year old self that I would only fly in business class when I turn 30….how naïve I was (now, over 30 and still flying economy). The big plane sat at the gate with its huge wings…I mean huge. I must say, it does not look as pretty as the Boeing 747…in fact it looks stubby and resembles a Boeing 737 that's all bloated up on growth hormones.

Inside, it feels roomy of course as one would expect of such a huge plane…but economy class is

still economy class... the plane could be big but that does not mean that you get seats with lots of pitch, rather, you have the same space, but you’re with a lot more people (Emirates Y class can accomodate 399 passengers. Add to that close to a hundred business and first class pax). Things are much better (than in other planes) for 1st class pax who now can even take a shower in flight (in my gutter mind, I was thinking that the shower stalls would certainly facilitate joining the Mile High club!). Service in Emirates as usual is quite good, the entertainment system (ICE) is one of if not the best in the air, and the seats are comfortable enough. The flight took off and landed on time. The noise level indeed is amazingly low even at take off (and of course during cruise…which I am not sure I like as you could clearly hear babies crying, people clearing their throat or snoring !).

The mood lighting adds positively to the experience, loved the purple and the pink lighting that are easy on the eye and even put you in a gay (if sleepy) mood. The orange I guess simulates sunrise which would be useful when flying across many time zones.


The Emirates crew, as usual, is a motley collection of people from all over the world, all friendly and professional, speaking no less than 12 languages between them. In Dubai, I had about 4 hours before reboarding an Asia-bound flight…this time a Boeing 777 (300ER, also of Emirates) that I have always loved and appreciated for the nice pitch of their economy class seats (that I heard would soon be adapted to a couple inches less to be in line with the international stardard and the other types operated by Emirates….sigh). In these days of bigger and fatter people, it is amazing to see that airline seat in economy actually are getting smaller!

Friday, April 15, 2011

Paris Japan: Oyako donburi in the 9th district of Paris

There are a zillion Japanese restaurants in Paris, some run by non-Japanese (eg. by Chinese owners and cooks) and others by Japanese themselves. Near la Concorde, just beyond rue de Rivoli as you move away from the Seine, you see one Japanese restaurant after another lining the streets.
However, they may not all remind you of the Japanese restaurants that you find in Australia, the US or even in Japan itself. Sure they will have the sushis, miso soup and all, but the most common combo (or as we say here: Menu) that you find here is sushi and yakitori (skewered meat or chicken in soya sauce mostly): a combination that is not normally found in other places (a combo that my visiting Japanese friends from Tokyo found rather odd).

What I have missed the most here are: Teriyaki on rice, Oyako donburi (chicken with eggs over rice, now can be found in Bento places) and the noodles (though there are places specializing in soba). Tempura (vegetables or prawns fried in flour) could be found in most….but not Oyako donburi or Teriyaki chicken (except in authentic restaurants, of course). These are not fancy Japanese dishes, mind you, just comfort food when you walk around Tokyo and are hungry! The kind of food everyone eats often.


So, it was with great joy that I found a small Japanese restaurant that just opened near where I live (in the 9th arrondissement) that specializes in fresh noodles and various donburi (rice dishes….served on a big bowl topped with chicken and eggs or other meats, or gambas, or chicken in soya sauce). The restaurant is run by a nice Chinese lady and the food is really great (not to mention the amount served, so, better be really hungry when you come here). Simply called Ramen (the name of Japanese noodle…for Americans this would bring memories of joyous life in collège…I used to eat Ramen instant noodles everyday to save money as a student), this tiny almost hole in the wall restaurant is located in rue de Maubeuge (about 20 meters further up after rue Rodier, metro Cadet or Notre Dame de Lorette). The Oyako donburi and teriyaki donburi in this restaurant are excellent (each costs less than 10 eurso). You could also get all kind of noodle dishes here and there are fixed menu that cost around 13 euros.
So, next time you’re in the hood and feel like a donburi or noodles (accompanied by cold tofu with topping or Hiyayako as a side dish), try this restaurant….nice people and great food for a good price!
(NOTE 2015: this restaurant is now closed, replaced by a chinese restaurant, and not a ramen place anymore :-()

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Getting a French driver's licence

For some weird reason I have always had a driver’s licence (and have kept it valid) even when I have not driven much in the past decade or so…I guess this is really a vestige of my younger days, coming of age (and coming out) in Los Angeles where you could say No Licence No Life (I mean fun life of course). Cruising on foot in LA may get you mugged, or taking in the distances between cruising areas, you may arrive too tired, too dirty after all that walk or bus rides!

So, living in Paris, I thought at some point that it would be a good idea to exchange my licence for a French one. I also pictured myself zipping around in a Smart (very small cars, almost like half a car really....not because they have good engine, I don’t know about that, or are convenient, but frankly because they look so cute and come in cute colors). I must have had amnesia about how complicated administrative things could be in France (things could have changed today…best to go to the Prefecture to get the latest exchange procedure).
Going to the prefecture to get the French licence I already picture myself that night in a rented Smart heading to Bois de Vincennes gay cruising areas (though how anyone could ever make love in a Smart is beyond me….one has to be a contortionist really). I was, of course, way too optimistic. Indeed I expected simply turning in my foreign licence and getting the new French licence and Hello Smart cars!. That was not to be. First off, not all foreign licences (or for American licence, not all states) could be exchanged directly with a French licence. California licence, for instance, was not directly exchangeable even though a licence from a state like North Carolina (what the hell?) could be exchanged no problem. Australian licences (regardless of states/territories) could finally now be exchanged with a French licence.
Another paper that I needed and did not have was an official confirmation that I have driven more than some years (so, I did not just go out of the country to get a licence and come back to exchange it with the French one). On my licence it was indicated the date of expiration but not the date when I first got my licence ….so, back on the international long distance phone, after waiting given the time difference, to ask for this specific letter.

Finally, I managed to have all the papers: the translation of my foreign licence (by the embassy), a letter stating that I have been driving for years as indicated by the date when my licence was first issued (in fact, the date I was licenced to drive), electricity bill as proof of my address, my passport (photocopied a number of times), and photographs. I completed the form, turned it in with all the papers directly to the person and waited patiently. Hours later, I was called and was given my licence. Surprise, it is a piece of long pink carton and not at all high tech (all the info is typed and your photo is stuck and laminated on, so unlike my old licence that looks like a credit card with infos and photo numerically printed on. Another surprise, I could find no expiration date! This means that you could be of an age that has to be carbon dated and have corresponding reaction times and yet you could still drive?)

Now, before you said Why didn’t I just get a new licence in France rather than go through all that? In France, it is compulsory to go through a driving school that costs a mint (like 2500 euros !) to get a licence. And the tests are really tough apparently as many people fail many times. I remember fondly how I got my first (California) licence : I went to a newsagent to get the DMV booklet for a few dollars, got a relative who is not afraid of dying to teach me to drive in the neighborhood and presented myself for the written and driving test in a local DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles). Much simpler. Yet, the mystery remains of why Californian drivers are so much more disciplined compared to Parisians…

Paris escape : Lisbon

To escape the dreary winter, I managed to spend a couple days in Lisbon (warmer than Paris).
For me, part of traveling is not only the destination, but also getting there (by plane). I am sort of an aviation enthusiast. Wanting to log in different airlines, I managed to get a ticket on Aigle Azur (a French company with few choice routes in Europe and Africa) and TAP Air Portugal. I flew on the A321 on both legs (from and to Orly, the ‘other’ Paris airport).

Flying into Lisbon could be an amazing experience. The airport is so close to the city (indeed, you could take the airport bus to the city in very little time and when your plane land and on the runway, you could see apartment buildings just behind the airport fence). Lisbon is physically beautiful with its hills and bay (water everywhere)…reminds one of San Francisco or Sydney really….reinforced by the bridge (The 25th of April bridge…..visible as you land) that instantly make you think of the Golden Gate bridge in SF. In fact, the shape of the bridge is more like the Bay bridge to Oakland, though the color is like the Golden Gate. Once we landed, it was clear that we are in the home base of TAP with the plethora of both narrow bodies for European routes and heavies (A340 mostly) for its south American routes painted in TAP colors. Aigle Azur was nice. The A321 was in a good condition, the seats were comfortable and we got free munchies and drinks.
Lisbon airport is tiny by Paris standard, but you can’t beat the convenience of its proximity to the city. I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner…and made it from the airport (on the airport bus) to his house in about 10 minutes.
We had dinner in a traditional Portuguese restaurant (no English spoken here)…and had a wonderful calamary main dish (with potatoes and some kind of beans) but was impressed mostly by the dessert, pear soaked in red wine (called drunken pear). After dinner, we went to Bairro Alto which is the ultimate Lisbon night life quarter with its many bars….Unlike Paris, the atmosphere seems to be a lot relaxed with less ‘attitude’. Still don’t know how people manage to go up and down the steep hills after all the drinking that could be done in Bairro Alto.


The next day, I strolled around the city admiring the colors of the buildings (they remind me of the colors of the south of France, definitely more colorful and bright compared to Paris. Many have cute Romeo-juliet like balcony that had I had a fan handy i would have whipped it out and called out Romeo ou maybe seeing that we're in Portugal Roberto dramatically). Later, I took in the wonderful museum of modern arts in Belem. There is a monastery nearby that was unfortunately closed for the day when I got there, but I managed to admire its beauty from the outside nonetheless) The day finished with the famous Belem pastry (could be bought in a bakery that everyone knows about as the line must have extended towards the center of Lisbon !)

Lisbon is much cheaper than Paris (for drinks, food and cigarettes)….it is also much smaller of course (and as far as natural beauty, much prettier too), and though I enjoyed my trip very much, I guess living there would make me miss the real ‘city life’ (anonymity and the big city feel that you get in NY, Sydney, London and Paris).
The gay guide lists a number of parks as cruising areas in Lisbon (but always with a warning, and indeed a number of them actually had male prostitutes rather than guys just cruising e.g. Edouardo VII park), but there are many gay bars (in Bairro Alto, Principe Real and Chiado), cruising clubs and saunas in Lisbon (see : http://www.golisbon.com/practical-lisbon/gay.html). Everyone told me about the best (gay) club called Lux (a cab ride from Bairro Alto) that I fortunately did not manage to visit. Last but not least, gay marriage is legal in Portugal, unlike in France (that recognizes only unions rather than marriage per se).

Paris Driving

The best advice I could give you about driving in Paris is Don’t ! for many many reasons, mostly having to do with Parisian drivers.
The Parisians, like most French people, think rules are there to be broken. This creates a terrible situation : the more there are rules introduced to regulate trafic, the more Parisians are motivated to break them !
Driving in Paris means that you have to have faith in your luck, but especially be very very alert. Pedestrians think nothing of jumping into the street to take over other pedestrians on the sidewalk, or to cross when the little man is red if they even cross on pedestrian crossings (most likely not).
You also have to be very alert of other drivers who would probably think that you’re driving too slow (even when you’re well over the speed limit) and will toot their horns to push you (and yet, when they have to stop somewhere, they think nothing of stopping and blocking everyone and curse you for honking after waiting a reasonable amount of time). Don’t speed even when you don’t see any police around, there are discrete radars everywhere and you will receive a letter stating when and how much over the speed limit you were driving …

The golden rule that everyone has to respect is to give way to your right : This may mean that even in a big round about you have to give way to cars coming in from your right (unless it is specified that those already in the round about have priority). So, when you’re circling the Arc de Triomphe you will have to stop for those coming in from the zillion avenues that end up in this round about !
In intersections you have to learn to be patient, it’s likely to be disorganized. In the US and Australia, people wait until the intersection is clear before they move forward and cross the intersection, even if the light was green. Not here. As soon as the light was about to change to red (or probably already changed to red), everyone pushes into the intersection and consequently blocks everyone else who now has a green light, resulting in a huge honking and cursing mess. There doesn’t seem to be a rule that the intersection has to be clear before one enters it, as we have at least in California.

Many Paris avenues now have bus lanes that could be used by buses and taxis. No private passenger cars or motorcycles should be on these lanes. But, if motor cyclists have no qualm of riding on the sidewalk, you can bet they have no qualm whatsoever zipping in the restricted bus lanes.
Streets found in older quarters of Paris tend to be narrow (just wide enough for one car, eg. in Le Marais or in Montmartre).Consequently, they tend to be one way and you may have to circle around to get anywhere. Be careful on these narrow streets as, in many of them, bicycles are allowed to go against the (car) trafic.

As many have said, best to see Paris on foot, or by bus or by métro….or of course by the wonderful Velib (hired) bicycles that could be found everywhere in Paris (see my entry on Velib).

Monday, April 11, 2011

The real story of French elegance : French provincials and fashion challenged Parisians

A true Parisian friend (in fact, more like she considers herself as one, having worked in fashion related business…she comes like many others in Paris from outside Paris) once told me that the fashion gurus could say this and that color as the color of the year, but a true Parisian will always wear black (especially for events and soirées). I find indeed black the best not only because it is always an ‘in’ color whether you’re in Paris, London or Melbourne, but also because it is quite versatile, less likely to get dirtied quickly and make you less fat and old all around. So, naturally, in my quest in becoming a true Parisien I load up on Parisien black things (I have actually always dressed in black, though probably wear clothes that are less tight than now). I love Et Vous jeans (store in Etienne Marcel) though not cheap, are very well cut to make you élégant in jeans. I also love Agnes b. t-shirts, sweaters etc. because they fit your body right and tight, short (they never cover your bottom) and yet have sleeves that are long (essential for that sophisticated and modern look…well, ok, also to look younger than you are).
But before you bring all your nice clothes with you to visit Paris, thinking that everyone is élégant and sophisticated, here’s a true story to make us all feel better (or in a true Parisien delight : to make us feel Superior). I am talking about, of course, French who are not Parisians and those fashion-challenged Parisians.

Everywhere outside Paris could be called the province (literally : provinces, with implications that the people there are provicial ?). I visited the very nice région of Bretagne (Britanny) and was more than mildly surprised by the people there. These people do not look like they shop in Agnes b. or les Galeries Lafayette…indeed, they look decidedly JC Penney’s ! This threw me off a bit, as I have the stereotype that the French is fashionable. They are so far away from my image of France and the French that I felt like I was visiting a foreign country. These people certainly are not afraid of colors or patterns and wear them proudly without any complex whatsoever…

Even in Paris, there are those whom I refer to as the fashion challenged. Try as they might with all the good intention in the world, they just never got the look right. Instead of looking sexy and alluring, they look vulgar…instead of looking minimalist, they look cheap…instead of looking individualist, they look like they failed at copying someone presentable. A young woman I know was, fashion-ly speaking, a total disaster – despite Paris bought clothes that she chooses according to Paris fashion magazines, well, she put them on and she still looks like she just got off the train from the deep province.

I guess stereotypes exert powerful expectations. With stereotypes, we notice those who confirm the stereotype (I notice the élégant Parisians), do not notice those inconsistent with the stereotype (I do not notice those Parisians who are not so élégant), though I may indeed notice indeed those who disconfirm the stereotype (I notice Parisians who look like they buy their wardrobe in a flea market in Bucharest) but tend to make explanations to discount them and keep my stereotype intact (they are poor, they are not really Parisians, they have been hit in the head and suffered brain injury). So, I still think of Parisiens as elegant, well dressed etc. I guess I should understand why my Paris friends still think of Australians and Americans as somewhat bad dressers despite the plethora of fashionable Australian and American friends that I have paraded in front of them.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Pigalle as we knew it...

Pigalle is known as the sex quarter of Paris (see my blog entry on Pigalle). But these days the places that have made Pigalle as it was are slowly disappearing. In their place, like in many other quarters of Paris are standard shops, cafés that you find everywhere else or even in other cities in the world.

One of these Pigalle ‘institutions’ is the Chao Ba in Place Pigalle (I wrote about this place in another entry). Chao Ba had a club, café, tea house and colonial atmospheres rolled into one. You could lounge in modern couches downstairs on one side or wicker chairs on the other side and upstairs. You could order any alcoholic drinks while munching on traditional Asian bites like spring rolls. Well, Chao Ba is no more. It was, suddenly, closed and boarded up. It reopened as Indiana Café, another café that you could find all over Paris and the world.

Another institution that is still there (but for how much longer?) is the sex cinema (ciné x) on the same Place Pigalle. This is a unique institution for transvestites, gays, straight men who like gays or transvestites or just horny men and couples. You walk in a fairly standard entrance (except for the sign outside, see photo, that will be recognizable as it has been shown in many photos of Pigalle), and enter the movie halls (they have two). These halls are dark, dirty and anything goes in there. Married and macho men could be seen chasing transvestites while gay men run after these macho men. The place stinks of sex. Yet, despite the fact that it is dirty (there are cleaner sex theatres all around Pigalle), full of pick pockets and all, it is probably the most popular sex place in Pigalle and could surprisingly grow on you. The ambiance in this theatre has changed with the gentrification of Pigalle that surrounds it…It is like the last bastion that is resisting fully aware that it is fighting a losing battle.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

The French Identity

How we define ourselves, our identity if you will, of course depends on how we think about ourselves, our preferences, our attitudes etc. But others also impact our identity: I think I am smart because I compare myself to someone like me who is considered to be smart, or I think that I am interesting simply because other tell me that I am interesting and treat me like an interesting person.

Recently, there has been a lot of discussion about the French identity: What it is and ultimately though never said who could be considered as French. This is a very thorny political issue at the moment because it also brings out questions related to immigration and religions (in particular, Islam which is the second largest religion in France). These topics also are often brought up at the same time as insecurity leading no doubt to an association between insecurity and immigration in people’s head due to the simple fact that two are often mentioned together by politicians in the same speech….which may lead to the (incorrect) inference that immigration causes insecurity. But such is politics.

France is today a multicultural country, though it does not see nor recognize itself as such. This refusal to recognize itself as such may explain why children of immigrants (in particular who come from Africa or other non-european continents), despite being born here, despite having spent all or most of their life here and not knowing another country, may still be perceived and treated as ‘foreign.’ This is dramatic as these individuals are considered as French by the people from where their parents hail, but as from ‘there’ by their fellow citizens in France. This got me thinking of my experience in the US (I am myself of color and hail from Asia originally).
In the US, being American does not exclude those who are not of European background (this does not mean that racism or discrimination does not exist…au contraire!). It is more of an identity that defines a way of thinking, of behaving. In France, where history counts for everything, being French may also imply that you could trace your family tree forever to a particular region in France. That implies that you’re not, say, Arab or Asian or African (again, Arabs in France refer to people from North Africa and not Saudi, for instance). Thus, those born here of foreign parents find themselves in limbo because they feel French, but their fellow citizens do not consider them as one of their own in a real sense.

I realize that despite feeling very much French myself now, my fellow country men and women do not consider me as such. Indeed, I feel most French when I travel abroad. Not only because being in another country made me realize that my thinking, my behaviors, my preferences and how I dress etc are more French than anything, but others also perceive and treat me as French. So, in a bizarre twist, I actually feel more French in New York than in Paris ! No wonder I choose my friends carefully here in Paris: I hang out with a few French friends who seem to believe that once you adhere to the French principles, French way of life and philosophy, you’re as French as a Dupont even if you’re called Ahmed or Chung Hee. It is important that there is a coherence between how one feels and how others see one, or you may end up in Shady Pine...

Restaurant Indonesia in Paris

In Paris, there are two Indonesian restaurants….I wrote about the other one already (located near the garden of Les Halles). This restaurant has good ambiance, good food, and reasonable prices given the quality of the place and the food. Lately, though, I have been going to the other restaurant, located on the other side of the river Seine near the théâtre Odéon (and the garden Luxembourg) on rue Vaugirard (website: www.restaurant-indonesia.com). This restaurant is called, simply, Restaurant Indonesia.

This restaurant looks less fancy than the one in Les Halles….smaller and decorated in traditional things (paintings, batiks and bamboo on the walls), but the menu is no less extensive. You could get complete plates (You get a plate on which you find the staple rice or noodles accompanied by satay, gambas in a sauce, fried egg, and a small salade in sweet and sour sauce….) called Nasi Goreng (Fried rice) or Bami Goreng (Fried noodles). Then of course there are also the rijstafels a dutch word for rice table….they have several choices that would allow you to sample many many dishes (they are served on small plates and you get a piece of each dish which is excellent for getting acquainted with Indonesian cuisine). The choices combine cuisines from different régions in Indonesia. Remember that Indonesia is huge and spans islands with different cultures, languages, and cuisines that range from very spicy to less).

Restaurant Indonesia has an interesting history : it started as a coopérative that included Indonesian political refugees (in the political climate of the 1960s) and their French sympathisers. It has obviously been successful as the restaurant is still there and seems to be doing good business, and it is still a cooperative. This may be because the food is good and the price is extremely reasonable (a complete dinner with drinks rarely cost more than 30 euros per person). More important, I feel that the food is quite authentic...

Friday, April 8, 2011

Starbucks Paris

In recent past, you see more and more Starbucks cafés in Paris. Like any good Parisien, of course, I complain about how thetraditional Parisian cafés are slowly disappearing and replaced by thèse cafés that could be found in any city in the world. You could be in Paris, in London, in Jakarta, and the same Starbucks cafés could be found…which seems to defeat the real reason why we travel.

I do have to make an exception for one café, however, that I find capture the Paris expérience even under the sign of Starbucks. This café is more discret than other Starbucks you find around Paris. It is located on Boulevard Haussmann near the métro station Chaussée D’Antin. I love sitting on the outside tables on the wide sidewalk that lines the boulevard on which the café is located. Inthe mornings, especially, the café is less busy than others in Paris….in April, morning sun softly bathes the outside tables while you sip an espresso (about the only thing priced normally…the other coffees, being the fancy or unusual kind, would be double the price). The sidewalk also is very well frequented though not excessively…this means you get to engaged in Paris favorite activity of people watching. Another bonus, Surcouf (a computer store) is just across the street as is Sephora (a perfume store). Of course, the big department stores like les Galeries Lafayette is just mere minutes away.

That said, right next to Starbucks there is a traditional café with enclosed terrace. So, why go to Starbucks ?….well, maybe it’s the friendly young people working there (including an American who speaks French to you with a huge accent), and sandwiches that you do not find in traditional Paris cafés (vegetarian wraps, for instance), or the good ole American sweets like Cinnamon rolls, strawberry cheese cake etc. (though don’t expect American prices !).