From Moscow to Moulin Rouge

It is clear that the French do not value the idea of doggie-pickup-bags. You have to be diligent when you walk, because almost every sidewalk has a seasonal supply of dog poop on it. Much of it has lost the war to the elements or to someone's shoe. And it is not easy to spot amidst all the garbage and gum on the ground. My guess is that the French feel like the sidewalk is just an extension of their illustrious sewer system (more on that later). A sewer system that their dogs share in equally.

We had big plans to get up early, but we did not leave the apartment until 11:00 again. Screw it. we are never gonna kick this jet lag, so let's just embrace it. Our goal now is to figure out a way to stay on Minnesota time, except for one day - New Years Eve. Somehow we need to stay up for fireworks on New Years Eve and then wake up at 6:00am to make it to the airport on time. We shall see.

You know the drill. We got on the Metro and took it all the way to.....Moscow. Whoa. Yeah, well, basically. We decided to take the 8 train all the way to the end of the line - Balard station in the 15th district. We didn't really know why or what the plan was - we were just curious. How far out does this cool city go? Well, not THAT far. When we exited the station we were disappointed. Not only was it misting and foggy, but gone was the cool architecture and 18th century feel. 1950's, communist-lookng, cement structures had taken root. Ish. The only bright spot was the patisserie where we found the donuts Gillian has been craving. We walked in the direction of the Eiffel Tower and could not have gotten there soon enough. We were hoping to make this our Eiffel Tower day, but the fog and cold, rainy weather deterred us. On to Rue Cler.

Rue Cler is a walking street a couple blocks East of the Eiffel Tower. There are lots of open markets, bistros, and chocolatiers. Oh, and a bunch of touristy shops. While it did not have the magic that it might normally have on a sunny day, we could sense the charm. We bought some chocolates, had an average lunch at Cafe de Marche, and grabbed some delicious ice cream at a Italian-style Gelato shop. By the time we walked off Rue Cler, we felt like we had just wasted calories on a dreary misty day. So what is the best thing to brighten anyone's day?

How about a tour of the Paris sewers! Les Egouts. This charming tourist hangout is located right on the Quai d'Orsay along side the Seine and not too far from Rue Cler and the Eiffel Tower. If you can believe it, you actually have to PAY to go see the sewers (whoever figured out this racket needs to be commended). You go down below the ground and into the actual sewer. How can you tell? Well, the smell, for one, is your first hint. The poop floating by underneath the floor grates is your second hint. (Quinn claimed every chunk floating by was poop.) We, obviously, didn't know what to expect. And we did not "do" the sewer tour the right way. In fact, this is one of the few things in France that has dedicated some effort to English translation (that might tell you what the French think of the English and the Americans. Or maybe that tells you what the English and Americans are in to). However, because I had not properly prepared my family for this tour, we ended up skipping most of the interesting reading and moved quickly through the sewer system display. But for those sewer fanatics out there, there is extensive reading of the history of the sewers and how they get them cleaned when they "silt up" (ahh, you can see that I did sneak in SOME readings - it was actually very interesting and quite ingenious).

Anyway, we popped (pooped) out of the sewer, crossed the Seine via the Pont de L'Alma bridge and went back to the apartment by way of the Alma Marceau Metro station. We rested at the apartment for a couple hours, and it felt good to chill out and watch the English speaking news channel with news of the record breaking snowfall in Manhattan.

At about 7:00pm we walked from our apartment straight to the Moulin Rouge. It is a nice walk - right past (actually over. They built the road over) the Montmarte cemetery, which was like a little village of tombs, kind of lovely. I am glad we hit the Moulin Rouge at night. It is a cool part of town. Lots of neon lights and people milling around. It used to be somewhat seedy, I guess. But now it is fairly benign. We walked up Rue Lepic, where there are a ton of shops, butchers, cafes, martkets, etc. Rue Lepic is shaped like a backwards question mark and we followed it all the way up toward Sacre Coeur. We figured we could find a nice place to eat in the area. And boy were we right.

Le Basilic. A fantastic tiny little wedge-corner restaurant. Inside it felt like you were on a Disney ride - like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride or Peter Pan. Surely the artists from Disney must have been here prior to their work at Magic Kingdom. And the food was crazy-good. For the first course, I had a Bacon salad with a Poached egg. WHAT? You can make THAT into a salad? Yeah. Insane. And the dinners were awesome. I had curried lamb, Janna and Shelby had something called Chicken Supreme, Gillian and Aubrey had a beef rump roast, and Quinn had a pasta with gorgonzola cream sauce. We cleaned our plates, literally. It was easily the best meal we have had since we arrived. And the desserts were great too, highlighted by Quinn's French Toast - for dessert.

We were typical Americans and went right outside after that delicious dinner and ordered up some crepes from a Creperie. Note: In France, if you want to make something into a business, you just add the "erie" to the end of it. You want to sell snowblowers? In France you would have a snowblowerie. Tacos? Tacoerie. You get it.

Stuffed and pushing our Minnesota bed schedule (10:30), we headed home. This day started off weak but ended strong. Le Basilic was the icing on the cake.