Will You Meet Me in Paris?

I’ve been waiting for a good opportunity to catch up on my writing and have finally found the perfect occasion. I have once again been placed on night shift, our patient load has decreased to a workable number (that number being zero), and it’s a holiday so everyone else is out celebrating and not watching over my shoulder as I use the hospital’s Wi-Fi for the important purpose of blog updating. Sure, I’d much rather be enjoying this holiday with friends and family, eating cookies still warm from the oven, and watching George Bailey proclaim, “I wish I had never been born!” but working on Christmas is not a new or unusual occurrence for me since joining the Navy; I guess you just have to make the best of it and I plan on doing this by reliving a fabulous trip or two and sharing it with all of you.

30 Sep-2 Oct. I unabashedly proclaim my love for Paris to anyone who will listen so it seemed quite fitting that my first trip outside of Spain should be to this favored city; all it took for me to find myself on a plane to France was an unexpected invitation from one of my best friends. All Megan had to say was, “I’m going to be in Paris in a week. Will you meet me there?” and I was searching for flights. Schedule changes, transportation strikes, bank braking last-minute tickets, and sleepless nights would do nothing to stop me from making this rendezvous.

As soon as I stepped off the plane in Orly and saw Megan waiting for me I knew I had made the right decision; and this conviction only grew as we walked up the metro steps and onto the bustling streets of Paris. I soon found myself sitting at a charming bistro feasting on onion soup, a bottle of wine, and witty tête-à-tête. The French experience was only deepened when the waiter spilled Megan’s glass of wine, started apologizing, but then, upon realizing what he was doing, started reprimanding her for filling the glass up too high. Before she knew what was happening, Megan found herself apologizing to the waiter for making him spill her wine. Ah, only in France!

After finishing dinner we met up with another friend and I soon found myself being whisked away to various bars around the area. I have plenty of pictures to document this evening, but sadly I either didn’t know the pictures were being taken or was acutely aware and therefore decided that I needed to pose for them in absurd ways. Either way, a majority of them did not meet standards and will not appear on this website; however, here are a couple that turned out surprisingly well… they must have been from early in the evening.

Me and Megan 

Arturo and Megan

The next morning, a little later than planned but morning nevertheless, Megan and I set out for the best hangover cure in town, a late breakfast of croque monsieurs and the most divinely rich hot chocolate known to man at Angelina.

*Allow me to add a quick guidebook-like side note here: While Angelina, located at 226 rue de Rivoli, is quite popular with tourists it is still a stop that I quickly recommend to most people, especially those with a fondness for sweets. Yes, the line can be long and the serving staff less than consistent but at the end of every meal I leave with a smile on my face and a purchase or two in hand. If you don’t have the time to sit and order a meal I recommend purchasing a pastry at their bakery (you can have their hot chocolate to go, too) and enjoying them both on a bench in the Jardin des Tuileries across the street, you’ll be very glad you did.*

My cup of L'Africain (not the most politically correct name but I'm sure you'll forgive them after trying it)

The bakery with all its lovely confections.

After filling our stomachs with delicious food Megan and I spent the rest of the day walking around Île Saint-Louis, occasionally stepping into boutiques and cafes to avoid the rain (this rain also "forced" me to purchase the most ridiculously touristy umbrella in the world), and visiting Shakespeare and Company, an English bookstore on the banks of the Seine near Notre Dame. I had missed this store on my two previous trips to Paris, a terrible oversight on my part as it was only about a 10 minute walk from Megan’s old apartment, so I made sure that I didn't neglect to visit it again. Shakespeare and Company embodied everything that I love about bookstores; it was overflowing with used and new books placed side by side, each papery treasure tucked into its own small space, some nearly hidden from sight, ladders leaning against shelves so that you could reach the highest nooks and crannies, and secret reading areas tucked away from view. I could have spent hours in that place but because I was with someone else I chose a book, bought it, and then pressed the famous stamp onto the inside cover. As I walked out of the bookstore I couldn’t help but think about the fact that I had purchased “The Leopard” (an Italian novel chronicling Sicilian life and nobility in the 19^th century) at an English bookstore in Paris; this amusing coincidence was not lost on me.

Enjoying being surrounded by books in Shakespeare and Company

Candy store in Ile Saint-Louis

Famous Berthillon ice cream (raspberry, pear, mango... and I think lime flavors)



After a much needed nap following our walk around the city, Megan and I met up with a group of her friends from university for a “Megan’s in Paris” reunion party. Sleep deprived and knowing that we had to wake up early the next morning, we made it an early night and retreated back to our hotel room, making a nutella crepe pit stop on the way. The following day we met a friend of Megan’s who lives in Lyon at the train station and, because she had only been to Paris once before, we busied ourselves by showing her some of the city’s sites. Of course, the day started with us taking her to Angelina for breakfast. What can I say? We’re creatures of habit.

At Megan's Party

Jardin des Tuileries

Manon and Megan

The Stravinsky Fountain



In a fabulous stoke of luck the annual all-night art festival Nuit Blanche took place on my last day in Paris. On this particular night, museums, art galleries, and other cultural establishments are free of charge and there are light installations and performances to be seen all over the city. We started the evening at friend of Megan’s apartment before we hit the streets to witness the city in the throes of an artistic orgy. Our first stop was at a performance art venue where the audience could be part of the exhibit.  As with most performance art pieces I am not sure exactly what they were trying to convey to the audience but it was definitely interesting to watch and to be a part of; and just so that you get an idea of the experience picture this- my five minutes inside the plexiglas box consisted of me being surrounded by a handful of men and being stripped of my outerwear garments and one of my friends found himself dancing, locked in the embrace of another man. Like I said, difficult to understand. Next we wandered over to Notre Dame to see a light display that had been installed inside. Looking back on that scene now always makes me start laughing; there I was sitting inside a church, more than a little tipsy after drinking the better part of a bottle of wine, trying to understand the meaning of the installation and thinking it was really inspirational and dramatic in its simplicity. What good memories.

The group before heading out into the night

Nuit Blanche