7 hours in Paris (3/9: Tours to Paris to Chambery, France)

Get up and out around 11, and drive to Paris, where I’m meeting up with Michel. Call him when I get close, and, since Paris is about as confusing as Toulouse, it’s a good thing I have him to guide me. Paris is also way cooler than Toulouse, so it’s ok if it’s a bit confusing.

Get to Michel’s place, drop my bags off at his place, meet his mom, grandmother, grandfather, and his dog; and we head out to return my car. Driving in Paris is an adventure. By Michel’s count I broke about 7 laws on the 15 minute drive to the rental car place. Honestly, though, in terms of driving etiquette, respect for lanes, right of way, etc., driving in France reminds me more of India than the US, and every cop I’ve seen has been parked and standing around with a bunch of other cops. So, it’s a little hard for me to take any of this seriously. At one point, to make a u-turn on a boulevard, I used the crosswalk. Oops!

Anyway, Michel is running late for a haircut, so I send him on his way, and hop on the metro to get back to his place. Since we’d told his mom I was going to go with him, when I get back to his place she’s gone off to do some errands. However, there’s a little café/bar about half a block away, so I just walk over there, and text Michel to meet me there. When he shows up, he has a bunch of flowers. They weren’t for me – they’re for his mom. Since we’re heading out, I get up to finish my drink, and tell the girl who has also walked in and is now standing next to me that she is welcome to my seat. She answers “Oh, you can speak to me in English.” “Wow, you have almost no accent.” “That’s because I’m an American. I’m from Los Angeles.” That’s awesome. I’m in Paris, and the first person I talk to out on the street – even if it was in a bar, and just to offer up my chair – is an American. Michel I talk to her for a bit, then take off to run some errands of our own. Get back, go inside, and I start repacking my bags. We’re driving to Les Arcs that night. Four guys in a VW Golf, so clearly all my stuff won’t be able to make the trip. Need to get all the stuff I need for the week into one bag (my ski stuff alone takes up half the bag).

Mimi’s mom makes us dinner: pate & sausage to start, beef-en-croute with a salad for the entrée, 5 different cheeses and (homemade) tiramisu for dessert – and wine, of course. Michel calls this “a simple meal”, and that she’s going to make something nicer when we get back from our trip so that we’ll have time to wait for his step-father to get home and all have a proper dinner. If that was the simple dinner, I can’t wait for next weekend!

Around 9, we jump in a cab, and head over to Michel’s friend Pierre’s place. One of the funny things about driving around Paris with a Parisian is that all this stuff I’m kind of excited to see as we’re driving along (Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower in particular), he couldn’t care less about . So, get to Pierre’s, introductions, a girlfriend who keeps yelling at people at people to speak in English (for my benefit – until she realizes I can speak french), and pack up the car. We head over to a café, where basically everyone in there is one of Michel’s classmates from the business program at his university… including the bar tender, so I’m not sure what to think about Michel’s education anymore. At the café, we have a couple drinks (well, Michel and I do, Pierre has to drive). At some point, someone hands me a shot, “it’s vodka”. The drink is brown, and smells funny. “This isn’t vodka.” Turns out, it’s a “Caramel”. A very popular drink over here is a caramel flavored vodka (you buy it that way at the store – just like we’d get vanilla or orange flavored vodka), and it’s really, really good. We also, pick up the fourth member of our group for the week: Nicolas. Nicolas is really tall, and Michel is shorter than me, so when the two of them are together it looks really funny. Anyway, I get introduced to a bunch of people that I’ll probably never see again, we pack Nicolas’s stuff, and we’re off for Chambery, our stopping point for the night (Les Arcs, is about 7 hours away, and Chambery is four or five).