really, Switzerland? a rant on a variety of topics.

Dear reader,

I apologize: I promised you Barcelona, and instead you get my angry ramblings about things that set me off today. Barcelona is next, this I promise. But first: rantings!

1) I woke up with a lovely little tune in my head this morning, and I should have written it down because now it's gone. Argh.

2) AHHHHHH, it is so bloody cold in this country! Anything that stands still long enough is more than likely to freeze, because our temperatures haven't been over freezing in almost THREE WEEKS. This is not fun for me. I am now being forced to exercise in doors, which is trickier here than it was in Denver because A, we have no space for an elliptical trainer here (oh, how I miss my elliptical machine!!), and B, see no. 3 below.

2a) Also, I was so cold outside today, as I was waiting three minutes for a tram, that I was compelled to spend FIVE FRANCS on glühwein, on which I promptly burned my tongue. Ugh.

2b) And also, in yet another drawback to winter, for some reason, the trams rumbling past our apartment are much louder in the cold weather. Science geeks, discuss.

3) And finally. Really, Switzerland, why with the maintaining of your hallowed, heavily (one might even say, militantly) guarded neutrality? I realize there exists the perception that this is somehow a great commodity for you, and in this day and age of the flailing Euro, I get it, at least from a financial perspective. But on other fronts? It ain't the 1800s (or the 1910s, or the 1940s, or any other major European wartime decade) anymore, kids. Also, I fully appreciate the benefits of the Schengen (or as I like to call it, the Schinken) Agreement, but seriously: WHY CAN'T WE ALL JUST BE MAIL-ORDER AND ONLINE-SHOPPING FRIENDS? WHY IS IT SO HARD, AND SO EXPENSIVE, TO ORDER ITEMS OF A PERFECTLY INNOCENT AND BENEFICIAL NATURE FROM OUTSIDE OF THIS COUNTRY? Even the various Amazon websites and their associated merchants around Europe (of course, there's no Amazon.ch...!) largely refuse to ship here. It's not like I want to import illegal drugs or murderers or inferior dairy products: I just want a Bosu ball and some acai supplements. And maybe some contact juice for my husband, because IN SWITZERLAND IT COSTS 5 TIMES WHAT IT COSTS IN THE U.S. And because you keep your import duties and tariffs and taxes so ridiculously high, it's hard to find a vendor of anything who is willing to ship here. And when I can, the cost of whatever I'm ordering is usually, at minimum, doubled due to said duties/tariffs/taxes and the sheer amount of paperwork and bureaucratic crap said vendor has to wade through in order to ship here. Sometimes I'd be happy to spend extra amounts of money to shop within Switzerland, but generally, I'M TRYING TO BUY THESE THINGS FROM AN EXTERNAL VENDOR BECAUSE WHATEVER I'M LOOKING FOR DOESN'T EXIST HERE, or is completely impossible to find. Maybe the Swiss are just completely contented with the safe, prosperous, meh food, beautiful-countryside lives that it's possible to live here, but honestly, there really are awesome things (like Bosu balls! and Asian food!) that come from places that aren't Switzerland. Reach out and touch someone, Switzerland, and make some new neighboring-European-countries'-post-office friends, or at least act like you're located on the  European continent (SMACK...IN...THE...MIDDLE, as a matter of fact) and surrender the weird, inwardly-focused, isolationist, lone-wolf tendencies. At least as pertains to shipping and shopping. That is all.

In conclusion, because my knees and core workouts need it, I will most likely eventually end up spending 230 francs ($250!!) for a stupid Bosu ball (which, if you did not click on the link above, costs around $110 in the bloody U.S.). Which I will have to order online from the single and only Swiss vendor I could find selling these things. Ugh, again.


(Excuse me, miss, but I think your frustration is showing.)

felice anno nuovo, amici.

After procrastinating and delaying and putting things off a little more, the blog is back. And I have lots to catch up on, starting with the Christmas lights in Zürich. The Swiss do not mess around when it comes to Christmas decorating: basically every shop, and many homes, has some form of lights or tree or bows or tinsel or something going on. My pitiful photos cannot possibly do justice to the major decorations (Bahnhofstrasse! old town!), but trust me when I say it was a teensy bit magical, especially in combination with the wee Christmas markets (and I mean wee) that made their appearances around town. Let's get one thing straight, here: I don't care so much about the goods hawked at these little markets as I do the food, which is glorious: raclette, fondue-to-go, hot chocolate, pretzels, glühwein, various punsches and tees, various ethnic delights (a whole Indian food booth! risotto! "American-style" donuts!) and--naturally--bratwurst. Swiss cold-weather street food rules, and I feel like I simply did not eat enough of it this year. I am already preparing mentally for next year. But anyway...Christmas decorations.

The airport. SO many lights. They even had little Swarovski chandeliers all over the train station.

Credit Suisse style.

They actually wrap buildings in lights near Bahnhofstrasse.

The tiny Christmas market near Bahnhofstrasse.

B-hofstrasse itself, with a grid of zillions of little multicolored lights suspended over it. MAGIC.

Hotel lights, big trees, actual trees made of lights along the river, and Grossmünster in the background.

I saw a guy carrying one of these to install it, and it's at least 3 feet across. Whole streets lined with them. Awesome.

Last, but certainly not least, the 30-foot tree at the main train station, covered head-to-toe in Swarovski crystal, which I have no use for. HOWEVER. This is by far the best use of them I've ever seen: this thing was soooooo sparkly.

Seriously, this is just a handful of the Christmas craziness around the city. Which I loved every minute of. The lights and the food and the glühwein certainly make the cold and dreariness bearable...too bad they don't keep it all up until March.  

Next up: the trip back to Denver and Los Alamos. Since most of you, dear readers, were involved in said trip, I won't go into detail, but suffice it to say that we had a fantastic time, got to spend quality time with both of our families and a few good friends, and ate actual tons of Mexican food. (Twisters! Senor Ric's! Illegal Pete's! Jack n Grill! Tomasita's! Chile Works! You are a delight, and I cherish our times together.)

Mike's brother and sister-in-law flew back with us after Christmas, so we got to celebrate the New Year with them and a handful of other expats in Zürich. They did a little city touring, and everyone (except me...I couldn't stop coughing my fool head off, in my fifth cold of the last five months) went sledding up in the Alps, which I hear was brutally cold, but also tremendously fun. We had a delicious fondue dinner at Chäsalp consisting of all-we-could-eat fondue served with cubed bread, potatoes, ham, and veggies...and we tried at least six different types of fondue (spicy, herb-y, the house fondue, bacon, ham-and-pepper, tomatoes...I think that was it). IT. WAS. AMAZING. I heart fondue, and especially the ones with stuff in them. Our New Year's celebration was a fancy schmancy multi-course meal at Seerose, a lovely little restaurant a ways down the western side of the lake (and right on it). The food was good, but let's be honest: I was chatting away with our friend Nathalie, and I don't remember much of what we ate.* Post-dinner was a champagne toast and watching fireworks out on the lakeside terrace, which would have been awesome, except that it was raining and we were a million miles away from said fireworks. (I am obsessed with giant fancy firework displays, mainly because I have this curse prevents me from ever getting to see them. Which explains my utter bitterness and hearbreak on New Year's.  I want to be directly underneath, essentially in harm's way, feeling the concussion in my chest and being required to wear earplugs and crane my head back to take it all in. The show was long, but this particular experience, to say the least, was a huge opportunity for me, and ended in giant disappointment. I will confess to actually weeping at how far away the fireworks were from us.) Post-fireworks we tried to go partake of the festivities at Bürkliplatz, which were a bunch of music tents and food-and-drink booths (where I would have preferred to spend the entire evening--street food and giant fireworks!!! is there anything better?), but everything was crowded, so we just sorta meandered home. 

At least the following days were fantastic. Mike rented us an SUV and he and I and Bobby and Anastasiya piled in for a little road trip down to Italy. We started in Milan, which isn't the most interesting or the most foody Italian city, but does have a tremendous cathedral. 

Fourth largest cathedral in the world, started in 1386 and finished officially in 1965.

Cathedral square with Christmas tree and shopping arcade.

Cathedral interior.

Super high-end shopping arcade, all lit up for Christmas.

Next up: a brief trip to the Ferrari Gallery in Maranello on our way to Bologna.

Mike likes this one.

I dig the older ones...

...but I'd certainly not send this one back if someone were to gift it to me.

Then, Bologna. Lots of graffiti, and a little on the seedy side, but I love Bologna. The Italians call it the stomach of Italy, because it's generally agreed that that's where the best Italian food comes from. (Parmesan cheese, Parma ham/prosciutto, balsamic vinegar, tortellini, Bolognese [i.e., meat spaghetti sauce], mortadella...all extremely good things that come from the Emilia Romagna region.) But also, the city has miles of arcaded walkways and gorgeous old churches and a university and an actual food district...what's not to love? 

Neptune fountain in Piazza Maggiore.

So...much...tortellini...

The meats-n-cheeses counter at the little shop (La Vecchia Malga) where we had lunch, which consisted of more salamis and cheeses than the four of us could ever possibly have finished.

Hallway at the university.

The Teatro Anatomico, where they used to dissect people for scientific purposes (originally built between 1637 and 1645; this is a post-WWII reconstruction).

Basilica di Santo Stefano (4 churches dating back to the 8th through 13th centuries).

View from Torre Asinelli, one of the symbols of the city and one of its few remaining medieval towers. (Original estimates were that there could have been 180; now there are around 20.)

We roamed the streets in search of tourist attractions and Italian shoes (SO...PRETTY...and so very small); ate delicious, fresh sandwiches; drank fantastic espresso; and had dinner at one of the places Mike and I had eaten last time we were in the city, Trattoria le Corte Galluzzi. It's a cute, casual little place in a courtyard just off the main plaza, and the principal draw for me is the tris della casa, which is a sampler plate of three of their homemade pastas (spaghetti bolognese, teensy bowties in a fantastic cream/cheese sauce, and tortellini). But also, the rest of the food there is just terrific.* The next evening Bobby wasn't feeling so well, so we ended up eating very near to our hotel, at Ristorante Posta, which, sadly, served up only "Tuscan" fare, but ended up being quite nice (the stewed rabbit was good, the roasted potatoes were delicious, and I finally tried out bucatini calcio e pepe: their version was long tube-shaped noodles with black pepper, pecorino romano cheese, and bacon...WOW). 

Next up: Florence, which I think is one of my favorite cities now. It is SO picturesque, and the food is SO good, and one can buy very affordable leather goods there, if one is into such things. (I may have come home with a new purse, or two...) After a somewhat terrifying ride into the city--those streets were NOT designed for cars!!--Mike did a fantastic job finding our hotel, and then we managed to fit in a quick visit to see Michelangelo's David and dinner at Acqua al 2, another place Mike and I had eaten before. What I love about this place is that they have the traditional a la carte menu, and then they have the option to order a tasting menu from each section of the menu (first plates, main courses, and desserts).  I had the first-plate sampler, which turned out to be small plates of five different, and all fantastic, pastas, which I could in no way finish. Mike had his own bolognese, and then we split the main-course sampler (filet three ways: balsamic sauce, blueberry sauce, and--my favorite--grilled, sliced, and served on crisp bread with arugula and shaved Parmesan) and the dessert sampler (don't remember specifics, but I can tell you that it was delicious*). 

The historic center of Florence is silly enchanting, even in the cold and the rain (which turned out to be the majority of the weather we had on our little excursion). Still, we managed to fit in a trip to the Uffizi gallery (a whole room of Botticelli!!), the Duomo and baptistery (which I didn't even know was open to the public), and Santa Croce, which we had somehow missed the last time we were there. Appalling, really.

Santa Croce frescoes.

Guess who's buried here! Dante...

Michelangelo...

Galileo...

...and Machiavelli. Amongst others.

13th-century stained glass on display at Santa Croce.

Cimabue's crucifix, dating back to the 1200s. It's old.

The crucifix is in this building, the refectory. The frescoes ain't shabby, either.

Piazza della Signoria at night.

Santa Croce.

Ponte Vecchio, a bridge over the Arno river, lined with goldsmiths and gold sellers.

The baptistery (octagonal, in foreground) and Duomo.

The Duomo.

Baptistery doors...reproductions of the originals, which were cast in bronze in the early 1400s.

Baptistery ceiling: mosaics dating back to the 1200s (and finished in the 1400s).

Lunch in Florence, on day 2, was at a random pizzeria near the seedy leather markets by the train station (but nice pizza! and I got to have my white beans with tomato and sage, YUM), and dinner was at the place recommended by the wonderful people at our B&B**, a seemingly locals-only trattoria across the river from the Duomo, Trattoria 4 Leoni. We started with plain bruschetta with olive oil, then Mike and Bobby each had the 3-pasta starter plate (including potato-filled ravioli in meat sauce and this pear-filled tortellini-like pasta in taleggio cheese and asparagus sauce...SPECTACULAR), and I just had the potato ravioli (which Bobby had sampled elsewhere on the trip, and I was jealous, so I went for it). Then Mike and I split a plate of baccala (salted cod, basically) with a side of lemony chickpeas. Really a good, interesting meal, and our waiter was delightful.

Our last day in Italy was quick one, and spent mostly in the car; however, we managed to fit in a side trip to Pisa before having to drop Bobby and Anastasiya off at the airport in Milan. We'd been to Pisa one time before, but it was pouring rain that day and we'd walked into town from the train station, which turned out to be extremely unpleasant, so this time was much better. Cold and windy, but sunny...and we actually got to see the tower this time.

There's actually a baptistery and cathedral there, too, but no one cares...

...'cause there's this. It's quite pretty in person, and surprisingly lean-y, for letting people climb it and all. We were too cheap and time-constrained to climb it, but it neat anyway. And I got to have a mortadella-and-mozzarella sandwich on fresh focaccia. Super delicious.

Ahhh, Italy. Food, history, vino, and maybe the most beautiful language of all time. Too bad their economy is crap and their politicians are corrupt...but at least they have the rest of those other things going for them. This won't prevent us from continuing to visit, however. Rest assured.

What I'm reading: Finished up Jewish Pirates of the Caribbean, which remained dry, and moved on to Seafaring Women: Adventures of Pirate Queens, Female Stowaways, and Sailors' Wives, by David Cordingly. A few interesting anecdotes about female pirates and captains' wives who had to take over their husbands' ships in emergencies, but on the whole, just kind of a goofy book. Didn't love it. Next was Cool, Calm & Contentious, by Merrill Markoe, which was a collection of memoir-essays that were supposed to be hilarious. It had a few funny moments, but turned out to be a little more bitter and sad than I expected (like David Sedaris, for example...everyone loves him but me, although he has his moments, too). Then Official Book Club Selection: A Memoir According to Kathy Griffin, which I actually really loved. For an extremely dirty comic who makes most of her living bringing celebrities down a peg or two, I was surprised and delighted at how not-filthy (ok, still extremely crass, but not as bad as I'd expected) and not-bitter and ridiculously hard-working Kathy Griffin actually is. The book was also very honest and open and really pretty hilarious. Then back to the serious side of things with Mighty Be Our Powers: How Sisterhood, Prayer, and Sex Changed a Nation at War, by Leymah Gbowee. Wow. Super powerful story of history and politics in Liberia, and how women's groups brought down Charles Taylor's regime and ended the years-long civil war there. Totally and completely worth reading, if you're looking for a modern-day story of courage and heroism. Next back to the funny, with Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns), by Mindy Kaling (who plays Kellie Kapoor on The Office, and is one of the head writers there). It's not the most unified of narratives, but Mindy Kaling is hilarious and I want to be friends with her. Finally, the latest two: Whatever You Do, Don't Run, and Don't Look Behind You!, stories from leading safaris in South Africa and Botswana, by Peter Allison.  This guy is funny and self-deprecating, and his stories are amazing and make me want to go on a safari. And also maybe to hug a cheetah, which is, of course, something he's never done, but he makes them sound so delightful and endearing.

Anyway.

This post has gone on long enough. Thanks for letting me take up so much of your time. I promise, it's mostly out of my system now. 

Next up: Barcelona, woooooo! But just a little, short trip.

   

*And also, I've been just terrible recently about taking notes on, and/or remembering, the sheer amounts of delicious things we've eaten lately. But really, how many food descriptions do you actually want to read...?

**FYI, the next time you're in Florence, STAY AT RESIDENZA GIOTTO. They are the nicest, warmest people, the prices are fair, and the location can't be beat (as in, most of their rooms have a window or balcony view of the Duomo, which is literally right around the corner from the front door). They took extremely good care of our little group, through car troubles (not our fault!) and a terrible case of food poisoning.

This is the Georges V, not some backpacker's hovel.

That's right. Paris has finally redeemed itself for me. I was there in 2000 and people were just mean, despite the fact that I was traveling with a quiet group of people who were mostly fluent in French and very polite. Didn't seem to matter. The city was beautiful, but the experience was miserable.

This time, however, was completely different. All I can figure is that A) I was traveling with Mike, and the stars just usually align for him; and B) the remnants of his high school French were just enough to charm people, and then to get whatever it was we were asking for. That, combined with the coincidental presence of one of our friends from Boulder and the positively relentless beauty of the city, made it downright enchanting. Cold, yes, but enchanting.

Day one: fly into Paris in the afternoon, then spend an interminable amount of time riding the train into the city. (That airport is NOT convenient, by any stretch of the imagination!) Checked into the hotel, then went to find Notre Dame. It's purty.

They happened to be installing the Christmas tree that day.

Interior.

Be still, my heart. Gargoyles!!

Those flying buttresses are insane.

Then went to Hotel Costas [disclaimer: I take no responsibility for whatever photos/video they use on their website...last time I looked it was some rather topless women...] to meet Mike's friend--also Mike--and his expat girlfriend, Carolyn, an American who's lived in Paris for 15 years, for dinner. We sat in this very cool outdoor courtyard that they cover with canvas awnings and keep pleasantly warm in the wintertime. The champagne and our dinners were not cheap, but what a neat place to grab a bite. (Mike had fancy schmancy chicken spring rolls and escargot--who knew it was so delicious??--and I had a creamy veggie curry that was delicious and actually a little spicy. Dessert was house-made vanilla bean ice cream with the most fantastic hot, liquid-chocolate-filled gateau. YUMMMMM.)

Other photos from that evening:

Faces on Pont Neuf.

View over the Seine to the Eiffel Tower.

Place Vendome, just around the corner from dinner. With Christmas lights. 

Day 2: Coffee at Cafeotheque, supposedly some of the best in Paris. Then a quick jaunt over to the Eiffel Tower (but not to the top...way too cloudy!), find some lunch, find the catacombs. Which, by the way, are NOT WELL MARKED. Turns out, they're directly across the street from the Metro entrance, but we didn't know that. So we promptly spent more time than necessary trying to find the entrance. But back to lunch, briefly: we ate at Cafe du Rendez-vous, right around the corner from the catacombs. Certainly nothing fancy, but solidly good food and a really nice waitress. Plus, one thing I love about Parisian cafes: they take the sidewalk portion of the cafe and throw some giant space heaters out there, and it's actually warm enough to eat outside in the winter! And so we did. Comfortably. We split some French onion soup, whereupon I learned that this may be one of man's greatest inventions--so cheesy! so delicious!--and I discovered the delights of the Croque Madame, a fancified open-faced ham sandwich topped with heaps of cheese and a fried egg. Yesssss. And Mike, due some previous advice from his friend Steve, opted for a cheeseburger, which did turn out to be truly exceptional. (I was skeptical, but it was really good. Good pommes frites, too.) We closed out the meal by splitting an order of profiteroles, which was RIDICULOUSLY HUGE (and consisted of puff pastry sandwiched around caramel ice cream and topped with loads of whipped cream, for those of you uninitiated into the profiterole club). (Which I was, prior to this.)

Anyway. The catacombs. In a nutshell, they were created in the late 18th century when the city's massive communal burial grounds began collapsing and the decomposing bodies therein created enough aboveground stench and underground pollution to cause illness and pollute the groundwater. The catacombs were constructed within the city's old limestone quarry, several stories underground, and contain the bones of roughly 6 million people and miles of underground walkways (of which only a tiny fraction are open to the public and contain bones). What's truly unique about it is the fact that the bones are all jumbled together and are arranged in rather decorative patterns (hearts, crosses, linear patterns). One does not encounter the bones upon first entering the catacombs: you have to walk a bit first. Past a couple of small rooms dedicated to the history of the place, an underground well, and these amazing and weird little scenes carved into the quarry walls by a laborer who'd been held prisoner by the English army.

He reproduced by memory buildings on the island where he'd been held prisoner (Port Mahon).

Another carving. 

And now...the ossuary. 

Skulls and femurs arranged around the sign containing the name of the cemetery from which the bones were moved. There were also stone signs scattered throughout containing quotes from the Bible and classical literature.

Lots of bones. It was really dimly lit and we weren't supposed to use a flash, so we don't have that many terrific photos. Suffice it to say, a ridiculously interesting--and slightly macabre--place to visit. 

Then, off to the hotel to clean up--the catacombs were fairly damp and puddle-y--and then to eat Thanksgiving dinner with a truly miscellaneous group of Parisian expats and visitors. Carolyn's friend Lila hosted the dinner and she cooked a LOT. It was a really nice evening and lovely to have some traditional Thanksgiving food, even if it was in a room full of people we didn't know. They all turned out to be really interesting and pleasant people, and I actually recognized one guy as a frequent customer from my Starbucks days. SMALL WORLD. Also, did I mention that both Carolyn and Lila live in a neighborhood from which you can see both Les Invalides and the Eiffel Tower...? It was seriously unreal.

Day 3: the Louvre! Sleep in late, eat lunch at the Brasserie du Louvre. French onion soup starter, followed by risotto with fresh peas and crawfish tails for me, and tiger prawns in curry coconut broth followed by entrecote with red wine sauce for Mike. Pricey, but tasty. We had bought museum tickets online and promptly skipped the line for the museum in its entirety (yes, there was a line at the Louvre in November: there are never not tourists in Paris). My highlights:

The pyramid. Still controversial, but iconic.

Botticelli frescoes! 

The Mona Lisa. Now in a gallery that can accommodate the crowds! Yes, I could get closer, but seriously. People were ridiculous.

Far more interesting to me was this painting: Veronese's Wedding of Cana (1562-3). The Louvre's largest painting, and really incredible.

Always liked Arcimboldo, the guy who painted faces composed of fruits, veggies, and/or plants.

Michelangelo's Rebellious Slave.

Corinthian helmet.

So most of my photos of the palace which actually contains the Louvre didn't come out that well...once again, dimly lit, no flash allowed, and we had no tripod...but the building itself is pretty outlandish and fantastic. This is just a stairwell.

How amazing is this: a lowrider in the Louvre. Right under the pyramid. I do love the color...

For having spent around three hours there--Mike and I both have a tendency to get museum-ed out, after that much time--we covered a lot of ground and saw plenty of incredible art (a 1937 Buick, the Venus de Milo, Winged Victory, a Holbein or two, the entire Egyptian collection, the palace itself!). I guess there's a reason it's one of the world's foremost art collections.

Post-Louvre we went to check out the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysees.

Yup, it's pretty impressive. But now they charge you just to go stand underneath it. Laaaaaaame.

Champs Elysees with Christmas lights.

Stopped for a quick aperitif at the brasserie Le President (around the corner from the Champs Elysees), then went dinner at Le Petit Pontoise, which came recommended for good and reasonably-priced food and did not disappoint. I started with the gratinated camembert, which was gigantic and came with a delicious little side salad, then had a whole bone-in fish (which Mike was kind enough to filet for me) with carrots, green beans, and pesto, and finished off with the world's fluffiest souffle (containing a splash of Grand Marnier). Mike had the pot of snails (I kid you not...this is what you call them when they've been removed from the shells!), followed by entrecote, and finally creme brulee. We washed it all down with some delicious, and surprisingly affordable, Medoc (a red wine from Bordeaux). That's one nice thing about visiting countries that produce good wines: they're WAY more affordable there than in Zürich.

Day 4: Took a quick jaunt past the Opera, then to Illy Cafe for coffee. It was quite good, and they had this ricotta-filled ravioli with fava beans and speck that I wanted to try, but we were on a mission to find crepes!  After a quick trip up to Montmartre and Sacre Coeur, anyway.

The Paris Opera. Wow.

Sacre Coeur. Also wow. (Sorry...no photos inside. Believe me when I say that that dome is way up there.)

Art market at Montmartre. Some really lovely stuff and some truly awful.

And then there were crepes. There is actually a street in Montparnasse that is lined with creperies. (I imagine there's also one of those streets in heaven.) The place we were planning to go had a huge line, so we went across the street to the adorable La Creperie Bretonne. We each had a savory crepe with ham, eggs, and cheese, but Mike's also had mushrooms and mine had caramelized onions. We split a bottle of house-made cider and finished up with a chocolate-and-banana crepe (which was delicious, but not what we'd ordered: we wanted one that had apples and was on fire).

Next, back to the Eiffel Tower, to hopefully ride to the top and meet up with Mike-from-Boulder again! Except that it was a sunny day and the lines were silly long, so we skipped the tower and went to the Musee du Quai Branly. Wanted to go to the Musee d'Orsee, but it was almost closing time, so we stayed in the neighborhood, and it paid off! Quai Branly is a gorgeous modern building with incredible permanent artifact collections from Asia, Oceania, Africa, and the Americas, as well as fantastic visiting exhibits (like the one we didn't want to stand in line for: Samurai...!). Once again, 3 hours or less, but really a great museum and a pleasant surprise.

La Tour Eiffel after sunset.

Oceanian masks of some variety. I was far too overwhelmed by the immense coolness of this museum to actually note the details of where they came from, how old they are, etc., etc. 

Yeah...I don't remember where these guys came from, either, but they were MASSIVE, and the one on the left reminds me of Jack from the Muppets. (I wanna go to Hollywood!)

Probably the only moa I'll ever see in real life. Sigh.

One last dinner in Paris with Mike and Carolyn at Le Vauban, which is directly in front of Les Invalides (Napoleon's tomb). Fairly dramatic scenery, if you ask me! Despite the fact that we were eating dinner no earlier than 10:00 PM, Mike and I both decided to go with the full 3-course menu. Which started with a kir royale (something bubbly with a bit of cassis, YUM!!). I had the goat cheese-and-leek quiche (ALSO YUM!), followed by three fish fillets with curry sauce and noodles (which was decent, but I should have gone with my first instinct and gotten the salmon with lentils...oh well...), and the most fantastic apple tart (not too sour! not too sweet! perfect seasoning and texture!). We've both forgotten Mike's starter, but he tried out the duck confit and finished with creme brulee. It was a bit heavy for the time of night, but a perfectly nice meal with good company and a great way to finish out our last evening in Paris.

Day 5: quick return trip to Cafeotheque for a homemade cupcake (Mike's was raspberry, mine was lemon poppyseed) and a final cappuccino, then back to Charles de Gaulle on a much less crowded express train (thank goodness). The verdict: Paris, this time, was phenomenal and fantastic experience, and I can absolutely see why everyone loves it. I will only ever go there during cold weather, as the hordes of tourists seem to be smaller then...but being so close, WE ARE GOING BACK. FOR SURE. 

And on that note, this is my last post of the year: thanks for bearing with me. I'm having a good time with this, and I can only hope that you are too. Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and I'll be back in the new year.