"What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and rats roll on the floor with the dogs?"

Ou est la boulangerie?

Our one night was in Paris was less than impressive.

Paris was one of the more beautiful cities that we visited. It had the Victorian architecture that we had enjoyed elsewhere, but almost always on a grander scale with taller and longer buildings. Unfortunately, we did not have enough time to enjoy the city, nor were we well-informed on where to go. Case in point: we couldn't find a bakery to enjoy French bread the one morning we were there. We couldn't find a bakery in Paris! That's like going to Israel and wondering where all the Jews are! Like overhearing an argument between freshmen at Wheaton and not hearing the name C.S. Lewis!

We were initially excited to visit the Latin Quarter where much of Midnight in Paris was set. Yes, us, in a small cafe, hanging out in the French neighborhood frequented by Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Picasso. Imagine Sartre, lecturing in a corner as female undergraduates gaze adoringly while Simone de Beauvoir walks out composed, but obviously irritated. A bottle of wine is passed around the room and all agree that their hunger means it's time for... kebab?

Yes, Midnight in Paris paints a nice picture here—about 90 years ago. Now the neighborhood crawls with tourists and chicken breasts, slowly twirled round and round on a metal skewer. We found the bookstore that is home to one of the main scenes in the film—and indeed, Shakespeare's is pretty cool—but decided not to eat at the restaurant next-door because it was too expensive. We walked and walked looking for that “right” place, eventually deciding to eat across from the Notre Dame. Paris rule #1: don't try to save money in Paris—you won't no matter how hard you try—just enjoy it. Our food was lame, we got in an argument, and the ceiling paint in our apartment fell on our faces while we slept that night.

Baxter!

But all was not lost. The next day we met up with one of Emma's dear coworkers from Dorchester and her partner who are staying in a flat owned by a diplomat from El Salvador. Nice, right?

The view of the Eiffel Tower and surrounding rooftops was incredible—if only we had eaten dinner with them the night before!

Are you kidding me?

We ate lunch in an old Jewish section of town that has now become somewhat of a Middle Eastern hodge-podge, with rival Jewish and Palestinian falafel stands on the main drags (I think Jeff showed us a movie like that) and fine restaurants, jewelers, and thrift stores on the side streets. Our meal was very good and our company was even better. While not totally redeemed, our afternoon with these friends at least gave us the impression that Paris deserved another shot someday.