First, a little guessing game. Yes, this is very much a part of "our" Paris. Three guesses:
So, remember the photo at the top? Did you guess where we were?
Scroll down for the answer.
Are we . . . in a closet, playing hide and seek?
. . . squeezed into a Metro car at 8 AM? or
. . . ???
This is "our" bistrot, Cafe Chappe, right across the street from our apartment. This little place has mixed reviews on TripAdvisor, and though we love the place, we can see why.
You don't ask for substitutions at Cafe Chappe. Today I ordered a Croque Madame and asked if I could have frites instead of salad. The waiter looked at me like I was a bit touched in the head and said, "It comes with salad." I backed off quickly. You don't expect fast service at Cafe Chappe either -- much of the time, the waiters are standing outside the door, smoking cigarettes. We didn't care -- as far as we can see, after two weeks, you don't get what Americans would consider "normal" service much of anywhere. It's hard to stop in for a "quick bite" in Paris; it always takes longer than you think it will.
We love Cafe Chappe anyway -- a couple of the waiters are very funny and seem to delight in giving us good, showy service. As I said in another post, they know that Grace wants a cheeseburger with avocado on it, and even though they find that strange, they accommodate her (must be because it's an addition, not a substitution). My favorite reviewer on TripAdvisor hated the place; in addition to the slow service, not very good food, etc., she used their restroom and came back to tell the waiter it was very dirty. His response: "Go clean it yourself." I can actually hear them saying this -- and I still love Cafe Chappe.
Here's the front door to our building on Rue Tardieu. Though the building is older, it's very nice -- a pretty courtyard inside, and our apartment has been great -- two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, toilet and shower. It's been so much better than a hotel could ever have been.
The sign outside just appeared, and someone will have to help me with this -- Google Translate is telling me the phrase means "Love on trees." Um . . . I don't think so. I think it means something like "Love is running the streets." Is that closer? It seems like a thing right now, that you see in various places. I don't know why the sign suddenly appeared, but it might have something to do with the women who stopped us as we were going through the door last night to ask, "Are you going to see the painter?" We said no, but what did we know?
We've been on the "right" side of Sacre Coeur, which is actually the left side if you're looking at the cathedral. It's a beautiful view, especially in the sunshine.
The beautiful Sacre Coeur
"Our" street, Rue Tardieu, has everything we've needed. It's a tiny street and therefore it takes taxi drivers a minute to find it on their GPS. But we have macarons, an excellent charcuterie right around the corner, amazing restaurants a few steps away, some nice boutiques -- the only thing that requires a short walk is the bakery. But we've thought that this has been the perfect spot.
It's the elevator in our apartment building! The one that has a metal plate on the wall stating that its maximum is four people! People such as we become very, very intimate with one another in this elevator. But it's been fun getting to know each other so very, very well . . .