Saturday 26 May 2018
The weather began fairly grey (as always it seems) but brightened up as we drove into London. We left around 0945 hrs, a little later than planned but not too late. The traffic driving into London wasn't too bad, although it still took almost 90 minutes - the motorway was clear but we crawled along the Westway and passed Euston, eventually getting into the car park and having a bit of a rush to check-in within the hour. As it happens, we didn't need to rush because the train was delayed by over 30 minutes (due to an "incident" involving a man at the Paris side - they didn't elaborate any further, perhaps wisely). The Eurostar terminal was absolutely mental - far far busier than I have ever seen it this end, but I guess all probably because of the Bank Holiday plus the half-term holidays. People were queueing all the way round the corner just to get through the ticket barrier, but fortunately our usual lady recognised me (or possibly just the double wheelchair combination) and we were hurried through. We went through security, and then had a long wait - we managed to get a coffee (surprisingly the café queue was minimal, perhaps because everybody-else assumed it would be ridiculous, as indeed my father would have done) but certainly nowhere to sit and barely anywhere to stand. The terminal staff were clearly frazzled, not helped by numerous people getting irate about the delay, but we were relaxed so they were helpful. It was slightly unfortunate that, at the very last minute, the gate number changed (not the fault of the terminal staff, but they still got lots of angry words from other people) - in our case, we had been told to wait by the lift at gate 5, but at the last minute it was announced that our train would be coming into gate 9, at the other side of the hall. So we had to quickly battle our way through what felt like the entire population of London. It was even more unfortunate that, once we got to our gate, the lift was out of order - or rather being tested by 2 workmen. The terminal member of staff told us to wait, but then disappeared - so the workmen kindly let us up, only to be royally bollocked (completely unjustifiably, in my opinion, as they were only trying to help) by the terminal member of staff once she returned. We heard her shouting from the other end of the lift, but by then we were gone. So if that nice workman ever reads this - sorry! After that, it was easy - we got on the train with no problems, and had a very smooth ride into Paris with the weather getting nicer and nicer the further south we went. Lunch on the train was, as always, simple but good - cold chicken on a bed of cous-cous for me, and quiche for Debbie.
We arrived in Paris around 1630 hrs local time, only a little later than originally planned. Leaving the (actually quite cold air-conditioned) train was like leaving the airport in a tropical or Mediterranean country - we were immediately hit by a heavy blanket of hot air, which persisted the whole weekend. We had the very short walk to our usual hotel, via the usual stop at the local grocery store for pastries, and checked into our usual room. We were expecting it to look quite different, having been told of extensive planned refurbishments on our last visit, but... not really. In fact the only discernible difference I could see was that we now have a radio in the bathroom. After a quick turnaround, we went out - again into wonderfully warm conditions - and had the 40 minute or so walk (the buses were out due to Saturday being a general strike) to our favourite restaurant, Le Perchoir. As always, the square at Place de la Républic was mental, with lots of 'peaceful' protests going on and lots of music, so we stopped for a bit to watch before continuing on our way.
Le Perchoir (https://leperchoir.tv/) is one of those completely off the beaten track restaurants that is brilliant, but that you would never ever discover by chance. It is down a side street that is decidedly non-touristy, and which is actually a little rough. Off this, it is then down an even more unlikely and dodgy looking street, which has literally nothing down it apart from apartment blocks. The only way of telling where the entrance is is a tiny red carpet and bouncer, and usually a queue of people. When we first went, several years ago, it was virtually unknown unless you were Parisian, and virtually every voice around us was French. Then, for better or worse, it was highlighted by the Times and Time Out as one of the top 10 best secret eats in the city, and ever since then almost every voice around us has been English. Today, it remains one of the best-kept secrets in Paris - that everyone knows about. The building itself is a large tower block, and once the bouncer lets you in there is an even darker alleyway which takes you to a metal spiral staircase and a lift. Absolutely nothing else. However, as you exit the lift at the top of the 7-story building, you are greeted by a hidden paradise - a rooftop bar, with tropical-looking plants everywhere, wooden chairs and tables, a large bar covered by black umbrellas and crowds of usually very smartly-yet-casually dressed people - this is not somewhere you turn up in torn jeans or tracksuit bottoms. The view is spectacular - whilst not covering the whole city, due to other even higher tower blocks, Montmartre and Sacre Coeur are clearly visible on one side. In the winter, most of it is covered by a large tent and they provide blankets, but in the summertime it is all open air. Today there was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a bit of a queue to get in, but it was moving quite quickly and we were soon on the rooftop bar sipping cocktails as the sun went down beneath the skyline.
At around 2000 hrs, we went down to the restaurant which is located one floor down. The restaurant itself is not enormous, and has a rustic charm to it - wooden tables and chairs, but nicely laid out and with decorative art on the wall. It doesn't actually open until 2000 hrs, but usually fills up very quickly so booking is always essential. I'm not sure why I am surprised when I say this, but we had yet another exceptionally good meal. We have never had a bad meal here, and I'm a little surprised that it doesn't have (to my knowledge) a Michelin star. Perhaps that's for the best, because it would just push up prices - which are already not particularly cheap, but in my opinion represent excellent value for money. It is also particularly good for Debbie, a vegetarian, which is often not 
that easy in France. I started with a tartar of fresh and juicy fish served with a crisp shaved fennel and apple salad, then followed with roasted seabass served with glazed potatoes and turnips and a tangy redcurrant sauce. Debbie started with a poached egg and Parmesan emulsion, served with mushrooms and hazelnuts, then followed with an unusual but apparently delicious coral lentil dahl curry served with mint sauce. For dessert, we shared their Café Gourmandises - essentially a mixture of all of their deserts in tiny portions - containing on this occasion a mini chocolate mousse, a mini meringue, a mini vanilla Madeleine and other assorted petits fours. All washed down with a perfectly chilled bottle of Muscadet. Suffice it to say the whole meal, and the evening, was great, made even better by the free glasses of champagne at the end of the night to compensate for their broken coffee machine. All very nice - albeit not necessarily needed after cocktails and wine - and so a lovely end to a good day.Sunday 27 May 2018
The following morning, despite the bright sunshine coming through our window, we had a bit of a lie-in - partly due to a very busy and stressful week at work, and partly due to the extra champagne last night. But we were soon out of the hotel, again into a rapidly warming morning, and walked the short distance around the corner to catch the number 38 bus down to the river. The bus was surprisingly empty, and in around 15 minutes it dropped us just outside the Hotel de Ville. There was obviously some sort of festival going on, as there often is in the square just in front of the town hall, so we took a quick look - it appeared to be just setting up, and was some sort of bicycle festival with a large stunt ramp being assembled. It looked like it was a ticketed event, however, so we continued on our way. It was around 1130 hrs by this time, and being out in direct sun was already getting uncomfortable, so we headed down to the river and crossed over to the Ile de France, stopping in one of the cafés surrounding Notre Dame - incredibly picturesque, sitting under an umbrella literally besides the cathedral, yet with prices appropriately extortionate for the location. Whilst we sipped coffee and people-watched, we debated about going inside the cathedral, but the queue was unusually long (it stretched out of sight, across the bridge) and so instead, once finished, we walked round the corner into the little park, the Square Jean XXIII, just behind the cathedral. There is often music playing in one of the bandstands here, but unfortunately today there wasn't so we just spent a peaceful half an hour sitting under the trees.At around 1300 hrs, when the first pangs of hunger had begun (we had only had a very minimal breakfast in our room before leaving, so besides the pistachio ice cream we had shared in the café, we had eaten very little), we left the gardens and crossed back over onto the mainland, descending away from the road down to the waterside and the Parc des Rives de Seine.
This is a long stretch of promenade below the road and right by the water, dotted with the occasional children's playground, boules areas and cafés and, as always, it was very busy. We walked along the stretch paralleling the river and watching the (extremely crowded) boat trips going past, until we reached our favourite boat bar/restaurant, le Peniche Marcounet (https://www.peniche-marcounet.fr/). This is a delightful little bar in between two of the bridges, with half the seating area on a large wide-beam narrowboat and half on the quayside, sheltered by wide white umbrellas and with piles of wooden shipping crates for chairs and tables. Most weekends in the summer they have an open-air barbecue, and live jazz playing at one end of the seating area. Unfortunately, today the boat half of the place appeared to be booked out for a large private party, but the rest of the place was open and buzzing. It is always busy, and today was no exception - after hovering for 5 minutes and looking pathetic, which appeared to be a popular tactic by everybody arriving after us, we found the end of a table - communal dining is very much the thing here. As usual, at the end of the seating area were two musicians, each with guitars and quietly playing jazz, and we enjoyed a very pleasant couple of hours listening to them. Although the barbecue was in full swing and looked delicious (I believe today's choices were roasted chicken or beef kebabs), there was a large queue for it and besides we didn't really want a full meal (nor was there anything for Debbie apart from the side dishes of sautéed potatoes or ratatouille), so instead we went for some of their cold options - these included nachos with quacamole, cherry tomatoes with mozzarella, and bread with pesto and olive oil, with a cold beer of course. Perhaps not very Parisian, but certainly perfect for the location and temperature.
Once the duo had finished playing, probably around 1500 hours, we left the bar and walked back up to the roadside, returning past the town hall and stopping to watch the bicycle festival. This was now in full swing and, despite the heat (a nearby pharmacy window claimed it was 31°C by this time), the group of bikers were performing all sorts of ridiculous acrobats to ear-piercing pumping music and an excitable comp-air. The crowds were loving it, and indeed some of the stunts were very impressive. After watching for 10 minutes or so, we walked the short distance through the Latin Quarter, stopping briefly to look at various street artists, before again catching the number 38 bus back to our hotel.
After a brief rest and change, we left the hotel around 1730 hrs and walked the short distance to another of our usual bus stops, this time catching the number 56 bus towards Montmartre. This time, the bus was much busier and, unlike this morning, wasn't air-conditioned - so we had a crowded and sweaty, albeit brief, journey to the lower part of Montmartre. Once off the bus, we fought our way through the crowds and through the heat, along the cobbled streets and up the hill, stopping briefly at our favourite chocolate shop to buy some macarons and admire the impressive chocolate sculptures of things like a detailed replica of Notre Dame, a full-sized galleon, and a massive gargoyle. Continuing up the hill, we boarded the funicular up to the top of Montmartre, and again fought our way through the crowds to get to the always impressive view of the entire city below us and the cathedral of Sacre Coeur behind us. Once we had taken in the view, we walked up to the extremely touristy Place du Tertre which, although always crowded and bustling with portrait painters and caricature artists trying to entertain noisy and easily-swindled Americans, is a favourite place of ours for an evening drink and a bit more people-watching. We sat at one of the curbside tables, just catching the setting sun as it fell below the buildings, and passed a very pleasant hour sipping kirs and chatting with one of our friends who had met us there for a drink.
At around 2000 hrs, and with the sun firmly down (although it was still unbelievably warm), we said goodbye to our friend and went across the square to our favourite restaurant, La Cremaillere (http://www.cremaillere1900.com/restaurant-montmartre/) - again, although it is very touristy and perhaps doesn't produce the finest cuisine in Montmartre, it is a fun place to sit outside and eat solid traditional Parisian food. Plus it has a jazz pianist who, over the years, we have come to know fairly well. Sitting outside in the square, slightly covered by large umbrellas, we had a very good meal of fois gras, followed by roasted bream with sautéed potatoes and lastly creme brulée for me, and French onion soup, followed by pasta and lastly a cherry Charlotte for Debbie, all washed down with a lightly chilled Sauvignon blanc. The waiters, many of whom we recognised and who recognised us, were clearly a bit frazzled - and, given the constantly complaining people on tables around us, I'm not surprised. Parisian waiters, and especially those in touristy places like Montmartre, have a well-known reputation of being rude, abrupt and bad-tempered - but I think they, or most of them at least, have the patience of a saint. It is true that they do not fawn all over you like in the States, which is no doubt why visiting Americans - who believe "the customer is always right, no matter what" - probably don't get on very well when eating out in Paris. This evening, the Americans were in full chorus - loud and shouty, belligerently refusing to speak a word of French (not even a merci) and complaining about virtually everything. It was, therefore, no wonder that the waiters around us were suffering. To us, however, who speak French and generally try to be polite, the waiters were their usual selves - a bit abrupt, yes, but generally courteous, polite, and helpful. At the end of the meal, we went inside to listen to the jazz, as usual having a nice chat to the musician whilst we finished our wine - we felt a bit sorry for him actually, because the restaurant area around his piano was virtually empty, with only one table just finishing up. Given that it was getting late, however, we didn't stay long, and eventually left the restaurant and returned to the funicular before the short walk back to the hotel. Another excellent end to another excellent day.Monday 28 May 2018
The following morning we got up slightly earlier, primarily because of the slightly lower (although still significant) amount of imbibed alcohol, and packed up our room. Our return train was at midday, giving us a check-in time of 1100 hrs, so we just had time for a quick coffee and croissant in one of the small cafés surrounding the train station. It was already extremely warm and easily comfortable enough to sit outside, although slightly cloudier than the previous day and with thunderstorms forecast for the afternoon. After breakfast, we entered the usual pandemonium of the Eurostar terminal, which was busy but no worse than usual, and eventually boarded the train just before midday. The journey back was uneventful - we had another nice lunch of poached salmon on cous-cous for me and another quiche for Debbie, before arriving back in London a little before 1400 hrs local time. Sadly, the warm blanket of heat that hit us upon disembarking the train in Paris was no longer present in London. St Pancras was again mental, so we fought our way through the crowds back to the car, and had a relatively easy drive home. A lovely weekend.
