Trip Reports - A holiday in Provence and Paris (UA & LH F)

Once a year or so I come up with an idea about renting a place with a bunch of friends and then set about convincing them to join Rod, T-wiz and me. This time I’d decided on a villa in France. At first I was hoping for a group of 20 so we could rent Christian Dior’s former getaway, (http://www.europeanescapes.com/villas/search_p2.php3?PropName=Chateau+Dior&Descr=&cname=0&price1=0&price2=50000&season=1&search=SEARCH+PROPERTIES&Admin=) but I had a more difficult time convincing folks this year – jobs were uncertain, vacation time cut and many people couldn't commit in time to book. In the end a group of will-travel-at-the drop-of-a-hat friends came through and eight of us set off for a smaller, but still lovely place (http://www.southfrancevillas.com/Vidauque/) in Provence – in Vidaque, just outside Cavillion and a short drive to St. Remy. It was a location that thrilled Rod because from there he could easily ride 1909-meter-high Mont Ventoux, frequently a highlight of the Tour de France.

Rod, T-wiz and I left early with plans to spend about four days in the Cannes area and then follow up the end of the trip with four days in Paris at the beginning of July. We had thought about staying in Paris first, but I really thought we should get to the coast before July and all the crowds. Of course, all those soldes signs that go up in Paris in July never entered my mind.

We cashed in miles to fly F on UA from SFO-CDG. The return was a little messy, but well worth the hassle. We had business seats on LH from CDG-MUC, first on LH MUC-LAX and coach on UA LAX-SFO. We bought tickets on Air France to fly CDG to Marseilles and back to Orly.

Check-in and security at SFO was quick and we headed to the international F lounge. The food there was a little better than we’d had in the past – some tasty little finger sandwiches with tomato, pesto and olive as well as some non-veggie types. No one offered to escort us to the flight – the guy at the front desk appeared too busy arranging the first class cabin bag tags in fancy little designs – which was fine because we find it pretty easy to find our way on our own.

Rod sat at the starboard window in row one and T-wiz and I took the middle seats. We started with glasses of champagne from Winston Churchill’s favorite wine house – Pol Roger.

Our flight crew was based in Paris and was far better than any of the Paris flight crews I’ve had in the past. The purser shared a menu from one of his favorite restaurants in Paris and when he noticed my name talked to me quite a bit about Norway.

We ordered veggie meals and, as is usually the case when we do this, there was a far better vegetarian option on the regular menu. Oh well. I’ve completely forgotten what it was we ate. I pretty much slept my way to Paris. Unfortunately, row 1 on the 777 is not the best place for sleeping as the galley is immediately in front and it’s pretty noisy - UA flight attendants seem to talk a lot. The 747 has an area around row 3 where the FAs leave water, snacks and wine so passengers can get more at their leisure. There’s no similar area on the 777.

We had another meal I can’t recall for breakfast, skipped the arrivals lounge and headed straight for our Air France flight to MRS. It was a quick flight and we fetched our Renault from Europcar and headed toward Mustiers, a lovely little artsy town in the hills above Cannes.

When I looked for places to stay around the riviera, I was pretty surprised by the prices. Many places started at $1000 a night. I wasn’t getting a warm, fuzzy feeling – the women on the beach would not only be beautiful and thin, but rich too. Off the coast things were much less. Our little inn with ocean views ran about $300 a night.

Next: A visit to Alain Ducasse's Bastide de Moustiers in the highlands of Provence

Keep it coming!

BTW if I cannot sleep because F/As are talking I have no problem to kindly ask them to move their party to another place in the plane. F has beds especially so that pax can sleep so of course it should be clear that during nighttime F/As limit chatting and walking around to a minimum

Looking forward to the land part of your trip http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif

Did your husband bring his racing bike along to climb Mt.Ventoux? I wouldn't trust most rental bikes for that ride!

Looking forward to the rest of your report! We stayed at Bastide de Moustiers last summer and had such a fantastic meal-hope yours was great too.

<font face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2">Did your husband bring his racing bike along to climb Mt.Ventoux? I wouldn't trust most rental bikes for that ride! </font>

monahos: He only brought his pedals and rented a bike in Cavillion. It was newish and weighed more than his but was of good quality and had good components. Of course, this makes it easy for him to claim that if he had his own he would have been to the top in under an hour http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif . I'll write more about his experiences when I get there, but it was definitely a tough ride, he said, made worse by starting out at 1 p.m. during a heatwave that had temps around 39C/102F.

Roaming Cannes and Monte Carlo

The next day we had lunch reservations at Alain Ducasse’s La Bastide in Moustiers-Sainte-Marie. I made the reservations weeks in advance. I wanted dinner reservations but it's a tiny restaurant and they save their tables for dinner for the hotel guests and all 12 rooms were booked. From our map it looked like it was only about 30-40 miles away. The person at the front desk at our hotel told us to allow 60-90 minutes. It took 2 hours and 15 minutes with no traffic. We missed our reservation and I was crushed until Rod called the restaurant and was told there was a table available for dinner at 8 p.m. We grabbed it.

We now had six hours to kill in the tiny, but charming town of Moustiers. The town was filled with the usual kitschy toursit shops selling table cloths in Provencial prints and olive oil bottles, but also with wonderful sculpture set along the river, in the plazas and on the sidewalks. Two were particularly striking – one was a tribute to 9/11 and was a metal wall with large round balls either piercing it or already through it; the other was a broken marble sculpture with a touching note in French from the artist on plywood asking the culprit why he destroyed his art. It appeared that was the most photographed sculpture there. Like many of the tourist towns in Provence, this one closes up completely during the off season.

At dinnertime we headed to Ducasse’s. His restaurant is on the edge of town down a desolate little road. There are two helipads and a gate with an intercom to enter. Inside the main building security watches four monitors of closed-circuit video cameras. For such a small, bucolic place, security was pretty impressive. We ate outside surrounded by trees and greenery.

The fixed-price menu highlighted vegetables from the garden. We had a cold bean soup, cannelloni with herbs and parmesan (there were meat options for the entrée as well), heavenly mashed potatoes with white truffles, a cheese course and a wonderful chocolate and cherry concoction for dessert. The food was all tasty and the menu was a good value at 54 euros each. The bill arrived with a charge for a different champagne than what we ordered and were served (we learned long ago to make very sure the wine they bring you is the wine you ordered, especially when it could be the difference between a $100 bottle and a $1000 bottle). The manager was very apologetic, corrected the check and brought me a gift of a small embroidered lavender-filled pillow.

The following day we enjoyed Cannes and went to Monte Carlo in the evening. In Cannes, the private hotel beaches are fenced off and there are strips of public beaches in between. Some of the hotels have piers with lounges on them. The Hilton’s is literally the width of a lounge. The sunbathers weren't as thin or as beautiful as I’d expected – perhaps it’s too early in the season for the beautiful people.

We drove along the coast to Monte Carlo and had some fun posing in the park with some sculptures that looked like people involved in mundane tasks such as taking a photo or running. There were a bunch of rules posted for the park, but we didn’t see them until we were leaving. Among them: One must be dressed appropriately – whatever that means – and one cannot sit or lie on the grass. I'm sure we weren't supposed to be mugging with the sculptures either.

There was a uniformed police officer on most every block and I had the feeling there were at least as many non-uniformed officers around. I definitely felt I was constantly being watched – never more than when I tried on a bracelet, not even an expensive one, at a jewelry store. Later, I read in a guide book that there are more video cameras trained on the public in Monaco than anywhere else.

We walked around the harbor and looked at the boats, any of which made our sailboat look like a bathtub toy by comparison. Most had helicopers, spas and a couple of ski boats on deck. I’d imagine berthing fees alone there for one of these megayachts would cover the cost of a new Mercedes CLK every month. Fuel for a little jaunt up to Cannes would probably pay for another.

Next: In the footsteps of van Gogh

[This message has been edited by letiole (edited 07-05-2003).]

Ahh.... wish I'd been there. Looking forward to more http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif

letiole-

Have the Joseph Schmidt truffles made a return to the F lounge at SFO?

I've been to Monaco twice, and can't say that I've really noticed a heavy police presence. Wonder if they had some high profile event when you were there that might have increased the numbers on the street.

Tom911 wrote:
<font face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2">Have the Joseph Schmidt truffles made a return to the F lounge at SFO?</font>

'fraid not. A server did come by offering little cheesecake tarts, but I'll take truffles over cheesecake any day.

Interesting on the police. That's something I would definitely think you would notice so maybe there was something going on that we were oblivious to. The uniformed police were nicely dressed though ... no threatening dark colors.

We drove to the house, stopping first at the college town of Aix (pronounced ex), former home to Cezanne. Of all the towns we visited in Provence, Aix was not the most beautiful, but was the most lively and least touristy. Unlike the other towns we visited, locals actually visited and shopped there. We’ve enjoyed the Italian hill towns in Umbria and Tuscany largely because they are a center of life there. In this ares of Provence, you generally don’t get that sense. Les Baux, Moustiers and several of the other towns are really there only for tourists – there’s no local bakery, wine shop, produce stand, hardware store. Pack up the tourists and the tourist shops and there would be nothing left. Instead, it appears most locals shop at Ashon – kind of a cross between Target and Safeway – and a great place for picking up lavendar and olive oil soaps and other goodies much cheaper than at the toursit shops. To get less of a touristy feel, a shopkeeper we met in Paris suggested we stay in the Dordogne next time.

It took us a while to find the house – our directions were something like, “When you see the little roundabout, but not the smallest one, in the woods turn left and then go to the house with the wavy gate and turn right, but not before first passing two foxes and a rabbit.” Two of our friends were already there floating in the pool. France was experience a heatwave that sent highs to 39C/102F. A dip in a cool pool was too tempting to pass up. The owner was there to show us around. She had it decorated rather lavishly, not what I’d expect in a rental property. She speaks some English, I speak some French, but we all speak Italian, so we settled on that. The house was set in the Luberon and you could see no other properties from the house. Out the back was a lovely pool, a table where we enjoyed many of our meals and an incredible view of the Alpilles. It was a wonderful setting and not far from most of the towns we wanted to visit – if only the chicadas would have given it a rest now and then. They sounded like lawn sprinklers gone mad and it lasted 24 hours a day. We added on maid service two days during our stay and tried to hire a cook for a few dinners, but struck out. Instead, we took turns shopping at the markets and roadside produce stands and then cooking in groups for three dinners. The kitchen was fully equipped with a dishwasher so it was all very easy and fun. We enjoyed the season’s bounty of white asparagus, wonderful cherries and an assortment of great cheeses and wines. The rest of our dinners we had at restaurants, including the famed Oustau de Baumaniere and a one-star - Bistrot d’Eygalieres.

T-wiz’s friend Taylor was along for the stay in Provence and turned 16 there. We planned a surprise party with a Parisian theme. I made everyone berets, we drew on mustaches a la Dali (Yeah, he’s Spanish, but what the heck), threw up streamers and balloons in red, white and blue. Taylor decided this was definitely more fun than being at the DMV getting her driver’s license for the first time. We also all had an assignment – we had to use whatever medium we desired to create a picture of Taylor in the style of a different artist – this was the land of the great artists afterall. The pictures were great – my friend Deanna teaches kindergarten and had them all do pitcures too. They were fabulous although one perhaps resembled Munch’s The Scream a little too much.

Our trips out and about included a visit to the huge market at L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, about 10 minutes away. This Sunday market is so large it covers most every street in the town. Several stalls sold antiques. I bought some old linens and also Provencial fabrics off the bolt to make a tablecloth and some napkins – much cheaper than buying them prehemmed. I also found some buys on cool linen and cotton dresses and on a Thai silk dress. All were bargains. T-wiz somehow talked me into a weird piece of jewelry that goes around my ear and has ornamentation that extends onto my checkbone and on my earlobe. He seemed to think it makes me look 7-of-9ish. I wore it once there, but I think from here on out it will be one of those pieces that hangs out in a drawer.

In driving we also stumbled upon the asylum in St. Remy where van Gogh admitted himself and did many of his paintings. Several folks on an art-tour were outside doing plein-air paintings. Inside, we saw his room (and one of us just may have did our very best troubled van Gogh pose – head in hands – while sitting on his off-limits bed) and the metal bathtubs where they locked patients in with plywood over the top and administered ice water treatments. I hope it was 102 out then too. There are still patients there who are involved in art as therapy. Many were quite good and we bought two of their paintings.

Among some of the highlights during the week in the Luberon and environs:

Les Baux has a stunning setting – surrounded by many unique rock formations. Apparently it wasn’t much until Oustau de Baumaniere opened up their hotel and restaurant and then the tourists flocked. Dinner at Oustau was the best we had during the trip. Guests have their choice of eating inside or out on the patio underneath the canopy of a tremendous tree. I didn’t see anyone who opted to eat inside. Oustau offers an a la carte menu, a meat-based priced-fixed menu for 140 euros and a veggie menu for 87 euros. We had the veggie menu, which included a salad with black truffles (this area – the Vaucluse – produces 74 percent of all commercially sold truffles in France), mushroom-filled raviolis, a plate of baby vegetables in olive oil, a stacked dish featuring potatoes, baby artichokes and tomatoes, our choice of about 40 different cheeses and a berry dessert. Being chocoholics, we substituted the chocolates in three temperatures selection from the a la carte menu for the dessert on the veggie menu. We received a chocolate lava cake (cake on the outside, warm and moist on the inside), chocolate crème brulee and chocolate ice cream – all terrific. As we left the restaurant, Oustau’s logo – a star – was projected high on one of the rocky outcroppings – magical.


We’ve really enjoyed dining in France since so many restaurants now have veggie menus. One thing we’ve noticed in comparing them to restaurants with veggie menus in the states is the menus still tend to be rather traditional, but that you’re assured every course will be good. At Pierre Gagnaire’s, for instance, we had probably 12 courses and not one was so “creative” we didn’t care to eat it. That’s not always the case in the states, where restaurants such as Tru and Charlie Trotter’s have always served us one course we’ve taken one bite of and left – beet sorbet and carrot-ginger cappucino are two that come to mind.

Le Bistrot d’Eygalieres has one Michelin star and it would appear they’re not trying for two. While the food was excellent, the service was a little comical. We had two servers and though they numbered our orders by where we were sitting apparently each was using a different numbering system. We all ended up with someone else’s order on every course. In between serving, the two servers would generally be arguing off in a corner. They also never did quite figure out which utensils to give us for each course – they’d bring one set, come back and swap it for another. Even the sommilier seemed rather amused. This didn’t detract from the food though. I had a tomato tart followed by a plate of vegetables and truffles and for dessert, chocolate mousse, crème brulee and vanilla ice cream. Most plates ran around 25-30 euros. There was a bargain six-course fixed-price menu for 64 euros but they required averyone at the table to order it and it didn’t offer veggie options.

Among the most interesting towns we visited was Roussillon. The rock here is mined for ochre and all around you can see the rich veins and beautiful striations in the rock. The stone buildings are also all colored with different pigments of ochre. There are several galleries – as well as some art classes available – that feature works using the ochres. We bought several pieces from one that had beautiful ceramics at very low prices. T-wiz, who seems to have a new interest every second, stocked up on different colored ochres for some art projects.

Rod and I went to Chateauneuf de Pape on our own to sample some wines, while others basked in the sun at the house and went to see some nearby Roman ruins. We had a list of wines from the area we wanted and struck out on most. We did taste in a view of the caves and bought a few bottles of wines to lie down for a while. It’s always suprising how inexpensive French wines are in France – especially on menus. The markups we have just don’t seem to be there.

We also spent one day kayaking on the river that’s fed by the Fontaine de Vaucluse, a somewhat mysterious spring that gushes up from the ground. We hiked to the source – past lots of tacky tourist shops but also through an interesting paper factory that uses the water to help in it’s manufacturing. When it’s high, it’s supposed to be like a mini Niagra Falls, but the water was low today and rather grungy looking. The kayak trip was along a very green river – made so by the bright green plants that grew below. Most of us handled it pretty well, but T-wiz and Taylor got their money’s worth by going down in circles. They counted 37.

Driving through the area was lovely. Many of the roads were bounded by trees that touched at the tops, making a tunnel over the roadway.

In a week, it was tough to cover much ground. We never made it to some of the “must-see” towns such as Avignon and Arles. The Carmague will have to wait until next time too. I would have also liked to have gone back to Sorgue when the market was gone to amble through it’s antique shops and admire the river and charming water wheels.

All for next time.

Next up: Rod’s bike ride up Mont Ventoux.

Ventoux

On our final full day at the villa, Rod decided to take a leisurly little ride a bike up Mont Ventoux while the rest of us decided to do something far more strenous like, oh, hang out at the house and lounge around in the pool.

Rod brought his shoes and pedals, but rented a bike from a shop in Cavillion. It was a nice bike – Campy components, relatively new, carbon fiber fork. For some reason he decided to wait until about 10 a.m. to decide this was the day to ride – keep in mind we were still getting highs of 102F. When he went to the bike shop the shopkeeper asked if he planned to ride Ventoux. Yes, Rod said. Tomorrow? asked the guy. Today, said Rod. The shopkeeper shook his head and said, “Oooo.”

Ventoux was about an hour away and on his way Rod kept his eye out for it. He saw a tall peak and figured that must be it. It looked not much worse than Mount Diablo, also considered one of the top 10 best/toughest bike climbs and the reason we live where we do as it’s pretty much in our front yard. Piece of cake, Rod thought. Then he saw the real Ventoux. He was humbled. The peak looked show-capped as it’s well above the tree line and covered with loose white rock. By the time Rod got to the base of the mountain it was about 1 p.m.

Every km (24 Km 23 markers) Ventoux has markers along the side indicating how many km to go to the peak and what the grade is for the next km. It starts out at about 6 percent (for the first 2 KMs) and climbs steadily – to 8, 9, 10 and to more than 11 percent. To Rod, those markers said something else – toast, really toast and totally toast. Seeing that 11 percent toward the end was not encouraging. Unlike Diablo, there are no areas where it flattens out so you get a bit of a rest – it’s just one long climb that gets steeper and steeper. Rod didn’t have his bike computer and he said if not for those markers he probably would have turned back. Of course, with 11 Km to go he almost gave up because of the markers. Turns out the marker for 10Km was missing, and he thought if every Km from here on is this long , there was no way. He was pretty happy when the 9 Km showed up when he was expecting the 10 marker. About 2km from the top there’s a memorial to a British Tour de France rider who died on the mountain. He had been taking amphetamines and drank some shots of Cognac for strength before starting the mountain. Riders along the way left water bottles and bike club stickers on the monument. The road is also covered with painted messages to various Tour riders. Rod took a picture of one that’s a large U.S. flag and says Good Luck Lance.

About 9 km before the top, Rod ran out of water and there was no way he was going to turn back now. He was tempted to flag down a motorist and ask for water, but there ended up being a fountain nearby.

At the top, it was pretty lively and there were incredible views. There were several other cyclists, a bike shop selling jerseys and other stuff and several motorists. He had a German rider take his picture at the top. Not having his computer, he’s not sure what time he did it in – but no one passed him (though he didn’t pass anyone either).

No one we saw riding in France wore a helmet and Rod didn’t bring his, so on the way down he went a little slower than he otherwise would have.

Rod brought Mont Ventoux jerseys home for himself and some of his riding buddies - not after a long debate as to whether or not they should actually ride the mountain before wearing the jerseys though. In the end we decided we could write on the back of Rod's, "I actually did it." And on his buds, "The guy in front actually did it." http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/wink.gif So if anyone of you ride in the East Bay hills and along Danville/San Ramon Valley boulevards and you see the guys in the yellow Mount Ventoux jerseys, it's likely Rod and his cycling mates.

Next: On to Paris and the sales!!!


[This message has been edited by letiole (edited 07-08-2003).]

letiole, great reports here http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/thumbsup.gif http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/thumbsup.gif http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/thumbsup.gif . The historical bits are a nice touch as well.


I am personally very fond of cicadas, probably because as a child I associated them with summer vacations, away from cold Switzerland. The east asian ones are quite energetic as well http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif

Rod's torments riding up Mt.Ventoux are eerily reminiscent of my own mindset during featured climbs, especially the bit about that kilometer being so long http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/biggrin.gif . I feel saddled with two flat tires up every mountain...

This past June was the hottest on record in Switzerland, and I would run out of water (2 large waterbottles) less than 2 hours into my rides. Temperatures in Provence were 3-5C higher, IIRC.

As for helmets, the French are quite recalcitrant about wearing them, especially in hot weather. Here around Geneva, about half the serious riders wore them 5 years ago, but probably over 80% do now. For some reason, helmeted and non-helmeted riders tend not to greet each other here; and, of course, road riders ignore mountain bikers. I found the atmosphere friendlier when riding on the Bay Area roads and trails while a student in the early 90's.

The possibility to rent good bikes while travelling is something I had not considered. I had at a time gone as far as keeping a racing bike and a mountain bike in the US, Europe, and Asia, but will look into just taking pedals and shoes along from now on. Would your husband perhaps have a list of places where he was able to rent something up to his standards?


As for the Auchan in Aix, I find French 'hypermarché' model quite convenient. Most French families I know stock up on essentials at the hypermarché on Saturday, and supplement this with a visit to a Sunday market. Food, and shopping for food, is certainly the great common denominator in France.

monahos: Thanks for the comments. Interesting about helmeted and non-helmeted riders not greeting each other there. We had a good friend end up in a coma (he fully recovered) when he fell at a light while doing a track stand of all things. We've always worn helments since, as do most folks here. The Bay Area has probably gotten a little less friendly when it comes to riders over the last few years. I always make an effort to wave to riders going the opposite direction when I'm on the tandem, but then I'm the stoker so I don't have to pay attention to much else. I'll drop you an email with some of the places Rod has rented from ... and if you're ever out our way Rod's always up for a ride .. and sometimes I am too.

Interesting to read about Mont Ventoux. Another rider died on it the other day. He had a heart attack as he started down again..... The best time to go up is in the small hours of the morning so that you can watch the sunrise from the top. Fantastic!

letiole, if you're looking for other good restaurants to try the next time you're in Provence, go back to Moustiers and eat dinner on the little shady terrace at "Les Santons" (Michelin 1 star until last year, then lost it, now trying hard to get it back). Less expensive than Alain Ducasse, and the cuisine just as good. Try the interesting icecreams and sorbets (lavender, thyme, etc - sounds strange but they're delicious). Another is Paul Bajade's "Les Chênes Verts" just outside Tourtour. Has had his Michelin star for years and still retains it. A magic setting, excellent food (including an all-truffle menu) and superb wines. He also has a few bedrooms if you need them.

1P: Thanks for the restaurant suggestions. I'm sure we will be back soon and I'd love to try an all-truffle menu.

I hadn't heard about the recent death on Mont Ventoux so I just looked it up on Google. It happened the week before Rod's ride, while on the way down. Sad. Thanks for letting me know.

Paris and Joel Robuchon's

The MRS airport is pretty nicely set up and we boarded our AF flight to Orly. It was an early morning flight and I was so wipped out I fell asleep the minute I took my seat. In fact, I woke up and asked Rod if we’d landed and he laughed and said we hadn’t even departed yet.

From Orly, we took a cab into town. Although we left SFO with just two carry-ons each, our cache had grown considerably since so public transit really wasn’t an option. The meter read 19 euros before we ever left the airport – a pretty steep base rate - but the total fare was only about 50 euros.

We checked in at the Prince des Galles and there was a minor problem – central reservations had the booking but it never made it into the hotel’s computer. We booked a suite and the desk agent wasn’t certain they still had one available. A quick phone call took care of things and the hotel did have our suite available.

I love this hotel – it feels a bit like coming home. The lobby’s nothing special, but the concierges have got to be the best in the business. They remember us from other visits, have given us their business cards to call in advance of a stay for restaurant reservations and generally go out of their way to be as helpful as possible. We needed a good-sized box to stash our haul from the trip home and a prefectly sized new box arrived in our room within minutes. It’s also in a great location , just a couple of blocks fro the Georges V metro station.

Our suite was a tad shabbier than rooms we’d had there in the past – there was a little peeling wallpaper and some scuffs on the moulding, but that’s being real nitpicky. A few minutes after we settled in, housekeeping arrived and decked the bathroom out in Hermes products. Later that evening, we received a bottle of Heidsick.

We arrived in Paris on the 28th and generally the sales don’t start until July 1, but we were told sales had been weak so the soldes signs went up a few days early. No complaints here. One shop almost directly across from the hotel had designer goods marked down to 80 percent off. It was pretty picked over already – the one dress I wanted wasn’t in my size – but they had some buys - $5000 dresses down to $1000 – though still out of my league. I did manage to buy more than I should have – mostly lots of designer clothing at half off.

The first night we went to Joel Robuchon’s new place for dinner. The concierges thought we were crazy as the waits are ridiculous (no reservations and two-hour waits) and it doesn’t exactly have stellar service. Still, we wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

The restaurant is open from 6:30 p.m. to 12:30 a.m. We arrived about 6:30 p.m. thinking we could put our name in and perhaps be seated around 8 p.m. There are no handles on the exterior of the doors so you stand at the door and a young girl pokes her head out. She asked if we were “in the book.” We learned that they do take reservations beginning at 5:30 p.m. for the same day’s 6:30 p.m. seating. We said no and she told us to go walk around and come back in about an hour. We should be seated in 60-90 minutes, she said. Do you take our name, I asked. No, she said, I’ll remember you. We walked around for about 30 minutes and came back and saw a big line forming. Uh oh. We stood off to the side and the next time she poked her head out I asked about the line. She said, “I tell them to walk around, but they all make a line. But I remember you and know you are second.” Apparently she didn’t remember a few others. One man seemed rather irritated when he followed her advice only to return and have her tell him to get at the end of the line.

Meanwhile, as we stood outside the restaurant a drunk came by three different times and made conversation. We chatted – he was a happy fellow. The second time he came by he brought me a rose and the third time he brought pictures of his 22-year-old daughter who he wanted to fix up with T-wiz (T-wiz is only 14 but he’s well over 6’ and most people tend to think he’s much older – 22 is a stretch though). This guy was harmless, but once Paris’ beggers figure out there’s a captive audience there, this should be prime real estate for them.

We were seated about 8:15 p.m. The restaurant is set up like a sushi bar. There are two U-shaped counters that seat 20 people each. The cooks work in the middle. It’s very attractive inside with dim lighting and in black with a dash of red. For every section of 20 people there were just two waiters and a wine steward, whom I’m sure worked both sections.

Before ordering I always explain in French that we’re vegetarians and what we do and don’t eat. I verified that what we selected would meet our requirements.

To say service was slow is an understatement. The waitstaff was rushing around, but there is just no way two people can adequately serve 20. When the server finally took our order she had a stance that said, I’m in a rush be quick about it. It felt a lot like being at a crowded truck stop.

Not long after I’d explained the vegetarian thing did a plate arrive as a gift from the kitchen – toast with some sort of fish on it. I explained again in French we don’t eat fish and both servers showed up and seemed horrified that we would send the plate back. Four French folks sitting near us apologized for the wait staff and we ended up having a nice conversation with them through dinner about everything from US-France relations to how sorry this restaurant was – undoubtedly the best part of our dinner.

I can’t remember our starters, but we all had asparagus with mushrooms for the main course. We each received five spears of asparagus for just 30 euros. T-wiz said it was the best asparagus he’d ever had – it should have been as I think it was about three euros per bite.

Dessert was a chocolate mousse with crème on top. It was served in a long skinny little glass, preventing you from ever being able to get a bite of the chocolate and the crème together.

Besides the other service problems, the server entirely forgot the cheese course we ordered and never poured the bottle of water we purchased. We couldn’t pour it ourselves as we couldn’t reach it on the other side of the counter.

In talking to a few folks afterward about the restaurant, it seems pretty clear Robuchon is more concerned with milking every cent he can out of this restaurant rather than in quality. The no-reservations policy allows a seat to never go cold and insures he’ll get four seatings in a night. All the wonderful restaurants we’ve ate at in France have just one seating. The counter arrangement allows him to cut back on employees. Our concierges asked them to give them a report the next day and we did. They weren’t surprised and said it was consistent with what they’d heard about the place already.

Next: The Paris flea market