mwp2paris

Rome and Paris…how can you not want to read about Mr. and Mrs. Paris’s 20th Anniversary Adventure?

OK, you have a life, but I'll try to keep this entertaining and give out a few pithy tips along the way.

January 12, 2005…Why do my trip reports always begin the day or two before departure?

Had a meeting in Mt. Pleasant, TX on 1/12. Flying in on 1/11 was a dream: MCI-DFW-GGG. Upgrade cleared on the MCI-DFW and I slurped down a drink or 3 and the Eagle flight was quick with a friendly FA who was on his next to last flight then off to Palm Springs for a softball tournament.

But today, what with the weather and all, proved to be a different story. The 36 minute flight from DFW-GGG last night turned into a 4 hour ordeal tonight all on a Saab turboprop. Fortunately, there were only 5 souls onboard plus a very nice and attentive Captain who made several trips out to schmooze us, an unseen First Officer with an attractive voice, and a polite but highly unseen FA. We actually had to vote by show of hands if we wanted to wait the nearly hour and one half till our wheels up time or go back to the gate. This is not rocket science, people. Everyone voted appropriately and we kept our number 1 take-off slot at what was becoming quite the parking lot for diverted AA planes searching for fuel.

I was worried I wouldn’t make my connection to MCI, but as fate would allow, both my flight and the later one were delayed and the later flight actually was leaving earlier than the earlier scheduled flight so I leapt like a gazelle over to that gate, secured a “last minute no-show” upgrade to FC and enjoyed one or three gin and sodas as we winged our way toward MCI.

January 13, 2005 Departure time draws nigh

Had a meeting at a Federal Agency in KC today. Always worried that I will wake up in my own bed, think, well, I don’t have to work today, and roll over and drift off. But the 3 alarms I left myself plus Mrs. Paris’ not-so-gentle nudging reminded me that I had to be up and productive today. They loved me and at the designated hour, I sped out of there and headed home. There was laundry and packing to be done.

About midnight I finally fell into bed. I think all the work, home, family, social, and silly stuff has been taken care of. I love going on these long-haul trips…but the “out of here, out of control” feeling really gets me pondering…has everything been taken care of? One can only hope.

January 14, 2005 Bring it On LUFTHANSA FIRST CLASS

We had been originally scheduled to leave on UA from MCI-ORD at like 10:something but that flight changed so now we were on a 1:30ish flight to ORD, sit for a good hour and a half in the INTERNATIONAL FIRST CLASS DEPARTURE LOUNGE then make our way over to the LH435 ORD-MUC flight, Airbus 340-300 equipped, 4:40 departure.

I had paper tickets and due to some schedule changes, I had to stop off at the US counter first and let them click for a good 20 minutes until they convinced the printer to spit out the corrected tickets then Mrs. Paris and I waltzed down to the other end of the counter and checked in for our UA/LH flights. Boarding passes in hand, we decided that we couldn’t move another step without a Bloody Mary so we seated ourselves at the closest bar, ordered 2 yes make them a double for 2 bucks more each and enjoyed a lovely sandwich whilst waiting for our flight. I had a sneaking suspicion, based on pass experience, that our on-time departure to ORD would not be so on-time so I ordered another Bloody Mary and Mrs. Paris hydrated herself with water and a lovely slice of lemon.

We cleared scrutiny and indeed, our flight was showing a delay. We boarded about 30 minutes late and took our seats in FC. The plane, especially the FC seats, looked tired.

Well, of course, flow control did its wonders and we sat on the tarmac at MCI for a while as I watched my minutes in the International First Class Lounge tick away. We finally got the OK to go and it was a quick 59 minute flight. I enjoyed a gin or soda or 2 and Mrs. Paris sipped a diet coke then we landed and were just steps away from the UA International First Class Lounge.

We were welcomed in and we enjoyed the cold buffet of sushi, finger sandwiches, cheese, fruit, and self-serve bar.

I changed my outgoing messages on my work voice-mail and semi-trusty Sprint PCS and then we decided to march over to the B Concourse where they had just called pre-boarding for our MUC flight. We found the F and C boarding line, our documents were reviewed, we passed the test and were welcomed to board.

There is just something so exciting about reaching the end of the jet-bridge and being politely directed to the left and not the right!

We moved through the small forward Business Class cabin and then found our seats in row 1. A very friendly FA immediately appeared to take our coats and help us stow our carry-ons and another appeared and offered us a beverage of which we chose champagne, but of course.

A word about the 340-300, LH interiors, the FC cabin and row 1

First, I had forgotten what a clean aircraft interior looks like. The grimy AA and US planes I spend time on seem to be norm for our national carriers, but this one sparkled. It was done in muted tones of grey with a light wood paneled buffet in the center front of the cabin. Attractive, recessed lighting gave the cabin an overall warm ambiance. Two rows of 1-2-1 configured full-recline sleeper seats made for a roomy feeling experience.

I liked row 1 but one thing…there is a short, waist-high wall that acts as a separator between the center 2 seats and the buffet…it allows for a walk-through space in front of the buffet so no one ever actually crosses directly in front of our seats. However, this wall makes the legroom feel cramped where in row 2, there is a mile of space and when row 1 wants to recline, these nifty little privacy shields are popped up from the floor by the FAs.

If traveling with someone, I would recommend row 2 center seats on this configured AC. In row 1 on the window seats, you simply have the bulkhead to look at.

There were only 6 people total in FC. We were offered nuts to go with our champagne and amenity kits were distributed.

I have no idea how boarding was going behind us nor, to be frank, did I care. We were in heaven and looking forward to the 9 hour flight.

Soon, the jet-bridge was pulled away and we sat for a few minutes whilst the cabin crew tried to get the video safety demonstration to cooperate. After many failed attempts, it was decided, after much scurrying up and down the aisles, that a manual presentation would need to be made. The FAs were all smiles and giggles because it had been a long while since they had done that.

Finally, the engines’ muted sound spun up and we began our take-off roll. This 4-engined beauty smoothly defied gravity and we were on our way to MUC. Menus were distributed and I shall recreate them here. I have also included the Business Class menu for those who are interested.


First Class Menu


Dinner

Hors d’oeuvre and Salad

Caviar with the traditional Garnishes
Smoked Salmon and Potato Pancake
Tenderloin of Veal with Citrus Vinaigrette and Mango Tomato Relish
Tortilla Mushroom Roulade served with Avocado Salsa

Seasonal Greens offered with Pepper Balsamic Vinaigrette or Caesar Dressing

Bread, Rolls, Toast, Baguette and Butter

Entrees

Filet of Halibut with Mediterranean Vegetables and Herbed Polenta
Braised Beef Short Ribs au Jus presented with roasted Vegetables and Garlic Mashed Potatoes
Reggae Ravioli in Tomato Sauce with Olives and Capers presented with Portobello Mushroom and Spinach
Roasted Breast of Turkey with Bread Dumplings accented by Red Wine Demi-glace, Green Beans and Yams

Cheese and Dessert

International Cheeses
Double Gloucester, Blue, Saint Nectaire and Brie Cheese
Pecan Pie
Fresh Fruit
Coffee, Cappuccino, Espresso and Tea

German Specialty Dessert Wines


Breakfast

Buffet

Freshly squeezed Orange Juice
Fresh Fruit
Yogurt, Cereal, Milk and Musli with Almonds and Strawberries

Bread, Toast, Ciabatta, Bagels, Croissants, Muffins and Danish Pastries with Creah Cheese, Butter, Diet Margarine, Preserves and Honey

A variety of cold Breakfast specialties featuring smoked Breast of Turkey, Cervelat, Brie and Edam Cheese

Entrees

Mushroom Ragout Omlette with Bacon and Potato Pancake
Crepes filled with Spinach and Ricotta Cheese accompanied by chunky Tomato Sauce

Last Minute Breakfast

Coffee or Tea
Freshly Squeezed Orange Juice
Croissants


Vinothek

Champagne

,,D” de Devaux Brut, Champagne Vueve Devaux, Frankreich

White Wine

2003 Oberrotweiler Trilogie, Spatlese trocken, Winzerverein Oberrotweil, Deutschland

2003 Meursault, Maison Pierre Andre’, Frankreich

2004 Stellenbosch Sauvignon-Blanc, Neetlingshof, Sudafrika

Dessert Wine

1996 Tokaji Aszu 6 puttonyos, Domaine Hetszolo, Ungarn

Red Wine

2000 Beaune Premier Cru, Domaine Jacques Prieur, Frankreich

1999 Chateau Pouget, 4e Cru Classe’ Margaux, Frankreich

2001 Maipo Valley Founders Selection, Undurrage, Chile

2001 Steilenbosch Cabernet Sauvignon, Waterford. Sudafrika
2000 ,,Farms’’ Barossa Shiraz, Yaldara

Beers

Beck’s
Warsteiner
Paulaner
Clausthaler, non-alcoholic

Aperitif

Campari
La Ina Sherry

Spirits

Smirnoff Red Label
Bombay Sapphire Gin
Cognac Lheraud Cuvee 30
Calvados’ Coeur de Lion
Fernet Branca
Schladerer Williams Birne

Etter Zuger Kirsch, Jahrgang 1994, 42% Vol
Etter Quitte, 41% Vol

Whiskey

Jack Daniel’s Tennessee
Johnnie Walker Blue Label
Glenfiddich Single Malt

Liqueur and Port

Bailey’s Irish Cream
Niepoort Portwein



Business Class

Menu

Dinner

Hors d’oeuvre

Sauteed Shrimp with Honeydew and Pineapple Slaw
Pancakes filled with Duck offered with spicy Cantaloupe Relish

Salad

Seasonal Greens presented with Dressing

Bread, Rolls, and Butter

Entrees

Grilled Beef Tenderloin with Thyme Jus complimented by Baby Vegetables and Potatoes au Gratin

Cod with Burgundy Glaze presented on a creamy Spinach Sauce

Ravioli filled with roasted Vegetables accented by Carrot Ginger Broth

Cheese and Dessert

Petit Basque, Gouda and Cambozola Cheese

Strawberry Crumb Cake
Fruit Salad

Brunch

Fresh Fruit

Entrees

Cold Gourmet Plate
Cervelat, Colby Jack and Swiss Cheese

Hot Specialty
Omelette enhanced by Tomato Relish and Red-skin Potatoes

From the Break Basket a selection of Rolls and Bread with Butter

Last Minute Breakfast

Coffee or Tea
Orange Juice
Croissants

Beverages

Champagne

Jacquart Brut Mosaique, Champagne, Frankreich

White Wine

2003 Varnhalter Klosterbergfelsen Riesling Kabinett trocken, Winzergenossenschaft Varnhalt, Deutschland

2002 Chardonnay Private Selection, Robert Mondavi, Kalifornien, USA

Red Wine

2000 Chateau La Gorce, Cru Bourgeois, Medoc, Frankreich

2000 Ribera del Duero Crianza, Bodegas Fuentespina, Spanien

Beer

Beck’s
Warsteiner
Clausthaler, non-alcoholic

Spirits

Bacardi
Campari
Bombay Sapphire Gin
Wodka Gorbatschow
Jack Daniel’s
Johnnie Walker Black Label
Tequila (only on flights to/from Mexico)
Otard V.S.O.P.
Schladerer Kirschwasser
Fernet Branca

Liqueur

Bailey’s Irish Cream
Graham’s Portwein


The First Class Service

First Class dinner presentation was lovely. The FA first brought around our choice of beverage (champagne, but of course) followed by warm, scented towels, then set our trays with linens, a bread plate, and silverware. The buffet was set with the selection of both white and red wines and the champagne comfortably nestled in its ice bucket.

We were each given a pink rose which we could stand in the vase which is actually built into the armrest of the LH FC seat…will wonders never cease.

The appetizer cart made its appearance. I knew I wanted caviar but everything else seemed so appealing, too. I was informed by the lovely FA that she would make 2 passes with the cart so I chose the trio first. I was presented my own sterling silver trio-tower, each appetizer occupying a tier. Then, of course, I enjoyed a large serving of caviar with a shot of vodka on the second pass.

I cannot say enough about the breads on this flight…they were simply divine. The hot garlic bread was delicious and reminded me of the wonderful garlic toast they served on my Cathay Pacific flight from NRT to HKG.

The salad was nicely proportioned and I enjoyed a serving of each of the white wines.

I opted for the halibut for an entrée and Mrs. Paris chose the pasta. Both were wonderful.

Next came the cheese course and of course, I had to have a nibble of each one…and more of that thin, seedy German bread…just yummy.

I know this will surprise you, but I did manage to pass on dessert and went straight for a tasting of each of the red wines followed by a snifter of the quince brandy and an espresso.

I should say that by now, not only did LH have me wrapped around their little finger, I was totally enjoying the refined yet gracious and friendly service of the cabin crew. At some point, an FA who was actually serving Business Class came around and personally apologized for the uncooperative inflight entertainment system not working up to this point. She sweetly assured us that all would be made right within minutes. And it was. Our individual videos came to life and I watched the flightmap as we winged our way eastward, and Mrs. Paris settled in to watch “The Village” which I already had seen with Paris offspring #2 but we had never divulged the secret.

I decided to watch “Before Sunset” which is my current favorite movie although “Sideways” is neck and neck. I enjoyed another espresso then decided it was time to for a walk.

I made my way back through Business Class and came upon a FA and inquired if it was OK that I take a lap about the plane. She smiled and said “but of course” and I just relished the thought of being on a non-paranoid airline. They even had (gasp) curtains that divided the various cabins and they actaully pulled them closed.

I did not feel one bit less safe then when I’m sitting on AA with the endless list of PAs informing us of “don’t do this and don’t do that’s” and “GOD ALMIGHTY don’t even think of peeing anywhere other than your ticketed cabin” and “we will duct-tape you to your seat if you so much as think about taking a picture out your window.”

Please. These basically silly faux-security rules that now trump common sense on most domestic carriers just don’t cut it with me. I’m not Martha Stewart, but I know bad window dressing when I see it.

It looked like Business Class was nearly full except for a single seat or two here and there and I would guess Coach Class was perhaps half full if a bit more.

I just love walking around a long-haul flight at well over half-way into the flight just to see what positions people are able to flex their body into trying to seek some comfort and escape from what appeared to be very little space between rows. I did my time in AF Coach JFK-CDG-JFK and literally drank them out of vodka...it was painful for this 6"4' FF to force his knees into that pitch...these poor b*st*rds had a few more hours to suffer through than I survived. I'm sure they could not help but noticed my relaxed and unfrazzled appearance and could only then infer that I was slumming my way around their cabin prior to returning to the confines of FC. Perhaps that explains the glares I was met with by those poor souls who had managed not to drink themselves into slumber.

Upon my return prance through Business Class, I could not help but notice that their individual video screens were much larger and brighter than our little things in First Class. I had screen envy the rest of the flight. It was cool and there must have been screen shrinkage is all I could think of.

Well, I returned to my FC cocoon of comfort and, realizing everyone else, including Mrs. Paris was asleep, I accepted the fact that I was the only guest awake. There, just 2 steps away on the lovely buffet sat a completely full bottle of Tokaji…what can a boy do but…???

HELP HIMSELF repeatedly through the next few hours of cruising the internet thanks to the super-cool inflight internet service that LH has installed. It costs $29.95 for the entire flight and was well worth it. I found it to be overall very fast. The souls who were in FT Chat that night probably grew quickly sick of me relaying real-time events from 35,000 feet over the Atlantic!

The only downside was that, while there is a regular 110 volt outlet in the seat to plug your recharger into, if the battery is the least bit low, the voltage pull overwhelms the system and the outlet shuts down. One of the lovely FAs brought me an adapter that seemed to help temporarily for some unknown reason but it still happened. So I had to occasionally use the empty seat across the aisle from me to recharge my battery while my laptop was off while I made another lap or 2 around this lovely aircraft and helped myself to more Tokaji and lovely chocolate truffles that had been placed on the buffet.

On one of my sojourns to the back, I got into a conversation with the friendly BC FA who had apologized profusely about the entertainment system early in the flight. During this converation, I let slip that Mrs. Paris and I were on our way to Roma and of course, that we were celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary. The look of glee that came across this FA's face was priceless. "We must do something...we must do something special" is all she had to say. It was only later that I discovered what "something special" was...she and the two FC FAs approached Mrs. Paris and I at some point with a tray containing a flower, 2 glasses of champagne and a full bottle for us to take and enjoy on our special day...LUFTHANSA rules! :-:

Several times through the night, in a very choreographed fashion, the FC FAs would come out and clean the FC lavs. Their movements were so polished and in unison I felt the need to applaud appreciatively each time.

Speaking of the lavs…fresh flowers; a basket of all sorts of goodies for shaving, brushing, and moisturizing; and a stack of fluffy terry-cloth towels to freshen up with…heaven.

Much too soon for my tastes, the FAs began to prepare the cabin for the breakfast service. A lovely cappuccino (read'm and weap Starbucks...this one was better), fresh squeezed orange juice, a plate of deli delights and the crepes filled with spinach and ricotta were the perfect end to an absolutely amazing flight.

I love to fly and it shows!

The descent into MUC was long…we were kept in a holding pattern above the clouds for a long while but eventually we did finally reunite with earth’s bindings and taxied up to the gate.

All I can say is, MUC is a lovely and stunning airport…all glass and steel and airy openness. I guess we cleared immigration into the EU…someone smiled and welcomed us and stamped our passport.

We only had a scheduled 40 minute layover so we made our way over to the terminal where our FCO flight would board and, after some discussion, I stopped into the Duty-Free watch shop and purchased a smart little Swatch watch since neither of us have a watch which has a working battery. We have 5 watches at Chez Paris and all have non-functioning batteries...this is just a sad commentary on our ability to take care of the basic functions of life, I guess.

We also decide to withdraw some Euros from a MUC ATM but our first attempt says that our PIN is invalid. Well, knowing this to be a complete untruth, we try again...same message. I decide to prance down to the next machine which is a different bank and we are able to secure 250 Euros which is actually 330+ US$ out of our bank account...this just sucks and we really don't get used to the pathetic conversion rate we endure during our entire time on the European Continent. At least we didn't have to deal with the UK Pound.

I wanted to check out the LH FC/BC lounge scene but Mrs. Paris stomped her totally Euro-trashy sensible-cobble-stone-walking-shoe-encased-foot and said not just no but "hell no" we are going to sit here with the commoners and see how the real people travel so I caved into her sense of justice and equity and continued to waunder the lovely and airy concourses...damn her Southern upbringing...she can be so hospitable at the most inopportune moments!!!

According to the polite PA, our inbound equipment had met the same fate we had and was circling above the clouds awaiting final approach. We wandered a bit then Mrs. Paris needed to put her feet up so I walked around a bit and enjoyed a café then soon, it was time to board our connection to FCO.

CGK

I am glad you enjoyed your LH F. Can not wait for the continuation of the trip.

RTW4

Having taken the FRA-ORD flight three months ago on LH first, I also can agree that their service is superb. My mouth was watering as I was reading your menu descriptions. Thanks for the wonderful report.

mad_atta

mwp2paris, thank you for what is already a superb report. Your writing style is as effortless and delightful as the LH first class service you describe. (It is also distinctive: the moment you "leapt like a gazelle" to the other gAAte at DFW I remembered how much I had enjoyed a previous report of yours involving a quick trip to BUR and your charming use of the phrase 'disco nap'.)

Thoroughly looking forward to the next instalment... and congratulations to you and the gracious (and I am sure entirely non-Eurotrashy) Mrs P on your 20th anniversary.

djjaguar64

What a great report. Lot's of pertinent details and you're sure right about the Airlines in America, I feel like a criminal when I fly with them. Excellent Bring it ON !

mwp2paris

Roma or Bust…

Bidding a fond farewell to the lovely openness and airy sophistication of MUC, we boarded the 4-engined Avro RJ85 operated by CityLine, LH’s regional carrier and found the typical cramped European domestic configuration…3x3 seating but just behind the 4th row, a curtain had been hung to separate Business Class from Coach. Besides Mrs. Paris and me, there was only one other gentleman in the BC section but coach was perhaps half full on this flight to FCO.

Of course, my decision to not sleep on the previous flight so as not to miss a moment in LH FC came back to haunt me here. I no more than sat down when my Tokaji haze raged into an outright slumber until Mrs. Paris gave me a sharp elbow to the ribs…the clouds had parted and we were soaring over the Alps.

I moved up a row and sat next to the window and just watched the jagged peaks and deep valleys in silent awe…until I felt the need to break out in my best Mother Superior rendition of Climb Every Mountain. No one else was having a Sound of Music moment though so I decided it would be best to quietly hum the refrain and chorus to myself.

Drinks were offered and I, showing the first shred of common sense and good judgement on this trip, ordered water, no ice. A light lunch was offered and it turned out to be rather tasty…slices of cheese and meats, a sad slice of faded tomato and more of that yummy seedy German bread.

I snoozed a bit then the landscape below began to change and it was obvious we were soaring over Tuscany. The rolling hills, mountaintop walled villages, olive orchards, and vineyards were all present and accounted for as we began our slow decent into FCO. The FA came around with a basket of German chocolate munchies and I took a few to savor that evening.

We swooped momentarily out over the Mediterranean before making a graceful turn towards Roma…we landed and of course, seeing that it is me, parked at a remote area which required boarding a bus and bouncing our way up to the luggage claim area.

Oh my, what a difference a country makes…FCO is not MUC. The tired, industrial looking luggage claim area looked like it had walked right out of a Fellini movie. Really…we all looked like we had been shot in black and white; the atmosphere was so downtrodden. We waited forever for our bags and of course, despite all the brightly colored “PREMIUM SERVICE” tags stuck on them, they came out close to the end once again reconfirming my experience that all those tags really mean is “save the best for last”!

The Italian Customs folks could not have been more uninterested in the sorry group of tired travelers trudging past them and we were out into the Arrival’s Lounge without a problem.

This being our first trip to Roma and our anniversary, I had contacted the hotel and arranged for a Mercedes Limo to meet us. We located our very friendly driver and he took our luggage and escorted us out into a lovely, refreshing, sunny Italian late morning.

Yes, it was a bit expensive, and yes, you can get from FCO to the center of Roma much cheaper, but hey, what a welcome to this amazing city. There are worse ways to catch your first glimpse of the Coliseum than from the back seat of a Mercedes.

Now that we have been there and done that, next time we will take the train from FCO to Il Termini and then taxi to our hotel from there…much cheaper and fairly easy to do. You could even switch to the Metro although the Roman Metro is not the Paris Metro. There are only 2 lines and it hardly knits the city together like the Paris Metro does. Walk 2 blocks in any direction and you nearly trip over a Metro stop in Paris…well, as Murphy’s Law would have it, until you really need one!

Being that it was a Saturday morning, our driver assured us that traffic would be light and it was…we entered Roma proper, made a spin around the Coliseum, flew past the ruins, and through the square where Mussolini gave many of his speeches. Our friendly and knowledgeable driver pointed out the different sites and I tried to keep mental notes for when we would be exploring on our own.

Before long we were making our way up the Via Veneto, past the American Embassy and into the entry drive of the Westin Excelsior. We were greeted like royalty, our luggage was moved from trunk to trolley, we bid ciao to our driver, and ascended the red-carpeted stairs to the stunning lobby of this hotel…the embodiment of La Dolce Vita.

The Westin Excelsior is stunning from outside and in. The inside is refined elegance…all marble and stunning plaster-work and a wonderful swooping staircase that carries you up to your assigned floor, if you care to by-pass the lift. From the outside, it is a grand piece of architecture and at night, it turns into a fountain of light and shadow, resembling a wedding cake that a giddy bride and groom are just ready to slice into it.

Perfecto.

I approach the registration desk and find myself in the following conversation:

Me: “Yes, it is me, Mr. Paris, and we are here to check-in.”
Agent: “Welcome to Roma, Mr. Paris. We see you and your wife are celebrating an anniversary with us, no?”
Me: “Yes, our twentieth.”

With that several of the other front desk clerks looked up from their computer screens, nodded approvingly at us and smiled wonderful Roman smiles…what they were actually thinking was “how have you managed to convince her to put up with the likes of you for that long?”

Agent: “We have upgraded you to a lovely Junior Suite which you will enjoy very much. You are in Roma, and you may fall in love all over again.”

Plan on it…at least twice a day!

And with that and a quick signature, we were escorted through the stunning lobby to the lift where we ascended to the second floor.

I love this elegant touch of being personally escorted to your room. I think Hampton Inns should adopt this practice…it would really set them apart from the Four Points and Fairfield Inns!

Our corner suite, Room 228, was located at the end of a long hallway. The color palate here was very subdued…cremes, light sands, reds, and golds. I loved making the walk to and from our room everyday. On the way out, it was to discover something new and amazing about Roma…on the way back it was to rediscover something wonderful and comforting about my last 20 years.

Upon entering our room, you looked straight ahead into the huge marble-clad bathroom. It featured a double vanity, glass-enclosed shower, two fluffy robes, a deep and lovely soaking tub, toilet, and a bidet which I have had before but have never quite figured out how to use…it does make for interesting dinner conversation, though…”so which way do you face...out or toward the wall?” Enchanting.

There was a large, frosted glass window so the entire room was bathed in natural light. Yes, a hotel room is made or broken based on the bathroom.

Upon entering our room, you turned to the right and went down a long hallway which was lined on one side with mirrors. These were actually the doors to 4 sets of closets behind which were hangers, shelves, and a safe. Plenty of space for all our Euro-black turtlenecks and unmentionables.

At the end of the hallway, you entered the Main Salon. The ceiling was at least 15-feet high, in the corner was a very royal looking fireplace and on either wall, huge windows with floor to ceiling drapes and sheers. The entire room was done in cremes and golds and reds but very understated and refined…tre’ Imperial style. There was a large sofa, 2 sitting chairs, a desk and chair, and a cabinet that held the amazingly overpriced minibar and TV.

Through a wide entry, you could access the Sleeping Salon. The usual twin beds had been converted to a large king. At the foot of the bed was a buffet on top of which was another TV. After much hunting, I finally figured out that by getting down on one’s hands and knees and pressing a rather hidden button, the entire TV electrically retracted into the buffet so that one could lay in bed and look out into the Main Salon.

This was simply a lovely suite. We could open the windows and hang out and look up and down two streets, or close them and pretend we had just inherited a palace.

Well, breaking all rules of international travel, we unpacked and decided to take a nap. I awoke after a few hours and decided to check out the hotel pool and spa.

Located in the basement, it was wonderful. I spent at least an hour a day moving between the dry sauna, located in the men’s locker room, the co-ed hammam, located adjacent to the pool, and the pool itself. The hammam was particularly stunning…oval in shape, lined in all granite, it featured a raised stone fountain in the center of the oval bench where water constantly bubbled and soft lights shone up from under the water…a very soothing de-stresser after a day of touristing.

I came back up from my spa-encounter to find Mrs. Paris emerging from a long soak in the lovely tub. We decided to take a walk around the neighborhood so we put on our Euro-black outfits and took a slow saunter through what was once the heart of La Dolce Vita. It does have the feel of a once and lively place that is aging well. Today’s La Dolce Vita scene has moved to the area around the Spanish Steps.

Via Veneto is lined with bars and restaurants and each one has a veranda built right out on the sidewalk where you can sit. Very different from the sidewalk cafés in Paris, these are often completely enclosed, stand-alone glass buildings that must have been so chic back in the day where not only you could sit and see, you could sit and BE seen! I can just see Marcello and Sophia and the gang smoking and drinking and live’n it large…ah the innocent and seductive decadence of the 50s and 60s. Ciao Bella, indeed!

We somehow managed to wander over to the Spanish Stairs and descended them after taking in the crowd. We strolled arm-in-arm around the lovely square at the bottom and then wound our way back to the Via Veneto.

Neither of us were hungry so we went back to our room only to find that a bottle of wine (my SPG Platinum amenity) and a wonderful bottle of champagne had been delivered, compliments of the hotel. Combined with the bottle of champagne that had been offered to us by the lovely and gracious LH FC FAs on our ORD-MUC flight, I was saving quite a bit on my bar bill!

We snuggled on our red sofa and tried to understand Italian TV...watching Saved By the Bell dubbed into Italian is not quite how I thought I would spend my first night in Roma. But the company was lovely and we laid out our maps and books and planned our next 5 days. I figured out how to tap into the hotel’s wireless Internet and for 3 Euros, purchased and hour of time to send messages to the Paris offspring and cruise around Flyertalk.

A side note…I did this Internet thing several times and what I figured out was that while it says it is for an hour, it doesn’t actually kick you off…but if you sign off after an hour and try to sign back on, you must pay the 3 Euro fee again. It took about 2 weeks, but every charge hit for $3.95 USD/each.

At some point, and quite without warning, Mrs. Paris developed a desire for Roman pizza. I rang up room service and ordered one and we popped the cork on the red wine and enjoyed our first of many Roman pizzas. CNN World on the TV, hot, drippy pizza, nice wine, love in the air…welcome to Roma indeed.

Our Days and Nights in Roma

I won’t bore you with every minute detail of our stay in Roma…OK, maybe I will but the weather was wonderful for the most part and the only day it rained was the day we had planned on going to The Vatican so that all worked out since you spend most of your time inside.

On Sunday, we did hit the flea market but just five seconds into the place, right past the very large and ominous police van, I was attacked by 4-foot beggar women carrying fake babies, and the market lost its sparkle. I just knew they were going to toss those fake babies at me just like Rick Steves warns and I’d be going long for Junior while 4-foot granny grabbed my Euros right out of my Nordsports. We finally made our way out of the crowded streets and found a McDonalds near the bottom of the Spanish Stairs where we had a cheap beer…or is that McBeer?

If you ever wonder where the left over Old Navy stuff goes after it has been marked down to 75 cents a piece, I know a street in Roma with your name on it! I've never seen more piles of ugly sweatshirts than at that flea market.

We recovered our good cheer with a wonderful panini from a street vendor and we ate it whilst wandering aimlessly through the narrow, winding streets…every building seems to be a work of art. We had to sit and have a scoop of gelato and an espresso to recover from the sense of awe.

That afternoon, as I was spa-ing, I struck up a conversation with an American who actually lives and works in Europe and comes to Roma often for a little R&R. I inquired about a dinner recommendation and he, without hesitation, suggested Il Pomodorino on Via Campania, which was just up a few blocks from the Westin.

We walked up and found the restaurant to be big, bright, and full of locals. The food was delicious and priced just about right if you don’t think about the pathetic US$ exchange rate.

There was a huge antipasto bar in the middle of the dining room that you could walk around with your server and point out yummies, or as we did our first night, we just let the server fix us a lovely antipasto platter…thinly sliced Proscuitto Parma, fresh mozzarella, roasted potatoes, olives and wonderful Focaccia Semplice straight from the wood-burning oven. For an entrée I enjoyed veal scaloppine and Mrs. Paris had Pappardelle porcini which was to die for. A bottle of house sauvignon and we were set. This meal set us back 64.50 Euro and was worth every cent.

We returned again for dinner on Tuesday night as well.

Monday was again spent walking through the neighborhoods that surrounded our hotel. We made our way to the Trevi Fountain and did the “coin over the shoulder” thing then found a lovely little grocery where we stocked up on tonic, gin, limes, sliced salami, a lovely aged cheese, a creamy blue cheese, grilled artichoke hearts, and little toasts, This made for a wonderful antipasto that afternoon in our wonderful suite in this wonderful city…love was in the air.

We dined at this lovely little family tratatoria (All'Osteria la gi something...I have matches somewhere but can't find them) just around the corner from our hotel. Mrs. Paris had found it on one of her walks while I was doing laps in the hotel pool. We were 2 of perhaps 5 customers. The owner greeted us and was our server, his wife and son acted as cashier and busboy, and another family member was the chef. I had a decent spaghetti carbonara.

What was charming about the whole thing was the grandmother came in and after all the customers were fed, the entire family sat down and the chef brought out a huge platter of pasta and they all enjoyed dinner together.

I bought a bottle of their house wine, which they had created their own label for. It was a decent little red and went down nicely with our leftover cheese and toasts the next day as an appetizer.

We returned to our suite to discover that our turndown service involves placing these silk floor mats on either side of the bed so one’s bare feet do not have to touch the carpet prior to slipping into one’s slippers.

Lovely touch.

That evening, Mrs. Paris was perusing the Room Service Menu and wondered aloud if breakfast was included. It had not been indicated that it was at check-in though I know that at most hotels in Europe, it often is. I suggested she call down and inquire with the front desk staff.

Throwing caution to the wind, Mrs. Paris decided to order us two Continental breakfasts on the convienent little card you hang out just before retiring for the night.

The next morning, there was a knock on the door and our breakfast was wheeled in and set up. Fresh OJ, a basket of pastries, and a pot of coffee complete with a little vase with a rose.

It was the best $80.00 breakfast I have ever had!!!

Tuesday was Roman Ruins day. We took the Metro to the Coliseum stop and first wandered around the neighborhood just adjacent to the Coliseum proper and found a large pizza place full of Romans enjoying a late lunch. Pizza and beer for a very reasonable price! It all equals out if you plan accordingly.

We walked back over and paid our entrance fee to explore old stuff. Really, really old stuff. We spent plenty of time hiking and climbing around the Coliseum itself then took a long, slow walk through the Forum ruins. The day had started out clear but a cloudbank moved in and it really added to the atmosphere of this amazing place.

There was so much that we didn't see...but my brain really goes numb after so much beauty and history. You could spend days just being here amidst crumbling columns and ancient tiles taking it all in and be all the richer for it.

There were a few tourists like us milling about with their pocket guides at the ready, but what was fun to watch were the groups of young school children…can you imagine...I had to read about this place in my Social Studies book and dream of being here one day…these children get to run and play and drive their teachers crazy in the actual place.

We walked back to the Excelsior which included a shopping run through a large Roman Department Store and the British tea room at the foot of the Spanish Steps for a gift for Mrs. Paris-in-law. She is a complete Anglophile and we thought she would appreciate the fact that there was such a proper English outpost here.

After a refreshing dip in the pool and a quick disco nap, we dressed for the evening and descended the wide and elegant swooping staircase and planted ourselves in the beautiful Excelsior Bar. The pianist was playing Gershwin, the waitstaff were trim and attractive and one look at the bar menu had my eyeballs bulging in their sockets…is that really 18 Euro for a drink…24 bucks for a drink? Oh well, we had to do it and the little nibbles that they brought were good. Who knew potato chips and mixed nuts could taste so cosmopolitan!

Another lovely dinner at Il Pomodorino and yet another perfect evening in Roma wound to a close.

Wednesday…The Pope is in

After a stand-up espresso or 2 at a little cafe' just down from our hotel, we did the Vatican this morning. It was a drizzly, gray morning and we took the Metro to the appropriate stop and then followed the small crowd to the entrance to the Vatican Museums.

The Musei e Gallerie del Vaticano is entered through a medieval wall. You pay your entry fee (12 Euro/person...so about 30 U.S. BUCKS to look at old stuff) then ride an escalator up and suddenly you are in this gallery that stretches, literally, for seemingly ever and every ounce of space is covered in art. The walls are all maps of the world as seen through the Church's eyes and the ceiling is this over-the-top melange of paintings and 3D reliefs that just cannot be described. You have to see this to believe it...I couldn't take a picture because it would not have done the thing justice. I just sat and tried to keep my jaw off the floor and out of the way of the large Oriental tour groups.

Then you wind through some other over-the-top rooms and galleries then suddenly, you enter the famous Raphael Rooms...these are the rooms of the apartment of some Pope who commissioned Raphael to cover EVERY SQUARE INCH in art. All the walls are semi-religious scenes but painted to look like tapestry. It was amazing...mind-boggling, actually.

Now, at every turn, you have to understand, there is a sign with an arrow that points and says "Sistine Chapel" so you just keep walking and looking and there are stairs up and down and you look out windows at the lush and green grounds of the Vatican and then there are these really boring marble stairs that look like you are shopping at an old Macy's downtown, then you turn a corner and go through this little, unremarkable door, and...

MICHELANGELO IN YOUR FACE

It is the Sistine Chapel. There is nothing to prepare you for it but your own mind and all the images of this amazing space that you have collected over the years.

We stood for a full thirty minutes and just took it all in. Actually, you really can't take it all in...overwhelming is the only word to describe it.

Everyone is hushed, but the Excitement and Glory of the space begin to get to the crowd and the murmur begins to grow to a roar and then this guard actually shah's and yells "Silence Please" and the roar drops back to a murmur only to build again as new people enter the Chapel.

How do you describe the indescribable...I don't have the words and my brain just went into overdrive.

When we thought our brains and souls had taken in all they could take in, we made our way back down other amazing, seemingly mile-long galleries lined with paintings, sculptures, and religious relics and then we were outside the Vatican (it is it's own country, you know, but no passport needed) then we walked down about 1/2 mile following the medieval wall to The Basilica of St. Peter and the immense courtyard. There are 284 pillars that circle this space. The Christmas Tree and Crèche were still in place. There was a line to pass through the metal detectors and then you are making your way up to the Basilica itself.

The Pope was actually here and giving blessings to his usual Wednesday Audience but we didn't have tickets so didn't actually see him. We watched him on the completely tacky big screen TVs that they have situated around the courtyard.

If the Sistine Chapel is indescribable, then I don't know what to call the Basilica. Overwhelming in size, statues that are 2 or 3 floors tall and they are 7 floors up from where you are standing, Michelangelo's Pieta is the first thing you see when you come through the doors...the place seems to stretch for an eternity and you don't know where to look. They were having mass in one of the side chapels, little old nuns were setting up for mass in another, we went down into the crypt and saw where St. Peter himself is buried plus a lot of other popes (who knew there was a Pope named Sylvester?)

We bought a refrigerator magnet from a little old nun in a light-blue habit to remember it all by.

Finally, we had enough, so we took a slow walk through the courtyard, had some cute American college students take our picture, walked down the main street that stretches out from the Basilica, and then turned down a side street, found a little cafe' and enjoyed a slice of pizza...Mrs. Paris had a mushroom and cheese and I enjoyed a potato and cheese. Roman pizza is great, you fold it over so it is like a sandwich and we just walked, tried to look like we knew where the hell we were going, and somehow, after about an hour, wound our way to a Metro stop.

We were exhausted after all the traipsing around the Vatican so we headed back to the Excelsior and had a nap, a refreshing swim, and then dressed for dinner…our last evening in Roma and our Twentieth Anniversary.

We decided to walk up Via Veneto and have a celebratory drink at Harry’s Bar. This place was all but dead when we were there and they still managed to mess up my drink order. We were not impressed and although the place still looks great, it is really just riding it laurels. The lovely diamond earings I surprised Mrs. Paris with did bring a smile to her face and the excruiatingly thin yet perfectly dressed and coiffed waif of a thing at the next table nodded approvingly when she caught sight of them.

On the way up the street we were approached by a very well dressed and attractive gentleman who inquired if we spoke English…but of course we do and he described the restaurant his father and him run just around the corner...Tempio Di Bacco.

We thanked him and said we hadn’t yet decided where we were dining but we promised to think about it over our drinks.

On the way back down, he was waiting for us and finally charmed us into following him to his restaurant to at least just look at a menu. This, but of course, involved actually going in and sitting at a table to look at the menu. The place was actually quite charming and full of not just tourists but locals as well…always a good sign. Back in the day, it was probably where second-tier stars and starlets hung out awaiting their call to the big leagues around the corner on the Via Veneto.

Realizing this was, no doubt, where we would be dining, I pulled the charming gentleman to the side and explained to him, in no uncertain terms, that it was my twentieth anniversary and I expected nothing less than a wonderful dinner. Hearing that we were indeed going to stay for dinner on such a special occasion, the charming gentleman got very excited and yelled out something in Italian and everyone looked at us and before we knew it we had a lovely table and glasses of champagne, courtesy of the house.

The meal was very good, and of course the company lovely. We took a last walk over to the Spanish Stairs and then waltzed over to the Trevi Fountain where I was tempted to do my best Anita Ekberg impersonation and wander carefree and tipsy into these famous waters but Mrs. Paris shot me “the look” so again I showed a shred of good judgement and common sense and decided to just sit and drink in the cool Roman evening and relish our time here. Our stroll back to our palace suite was bittersweet as we realized it was indeed our last night here.

Tomorrow at 6:10 p.m. Roma time we are on the Artesia, the night train to Paris...that was my Anniversary Gift from Mrs. Paris...and I plan to enjoy every moment. We have our own 2-person cabin in First Class...will let you know how that is! Park Hyatt Vendome...here we come!

Ciao Bella, indeed.

EXPLAT

Wow...

Your writing takes me away to those places. I am getting married in June and I was just imagining my Fiance and I at 20 years from reading your adventure.

Fliar

Woaw, sounds like an awesome trip (and very luxurious!)

RTW4

A fabulous trip report. I also loved being in ROMA with my wife. Quite romantic and quite caloric....

techgirl

Oh Mike. You are talking MY language... LH F, champagne, caviar, Tokaji, mwp-style musical interludes.

What a delightful trip report celebrating two of my very favorite FTers. I miss you guys!

(Hanging on anxiously here waiting for Thoumieux to enter the picture. It does, doesn't it? I'm giddy like a schoolgirl just waiting....)

mwp2paris

Our last day in Roma was spent having yet another cappuccino and espresso at our now familiar stand-up café although the warm and sunny morning seduced us into sitting outside and trying to look fabulous as tutta la Roma does so effortlessly; walking to the Trevi Fountain one last time; and doing a bit of shopping. Due to my Platinum status with SPG, I was able to arrange a 4:00 checkout from the Hotel Excelsior allowing for an afternoon at the hotel spa and a quick nap.

Upon check-out, we still had over 2 hours until our train left from Il Termini which was just a 5 minute taxi ride away, so we checked our luggage with the bellman and went for a walk down a street we had not been on. We found a wonderful little café where we had pizza, espresso, and I had a limoncello…yummy in the tummy.

We taxied to Il Termini with a very friendly and jovial driver who couldn’t speak a word of English but could hum the "Star Spangled Banner" which was a bit embarrassing because I certainly wouldn’t be able to hum the Italian National Anthem or even name its title.

We found a comfortable bench for Mrs. Paris to sit on and I walked around and enjoyed watching the trains coming and going to and from all kinds of romantic sounding places. As a train lover, I just can’t get enough of European train stations where you can get up close and personal with these wonderful machines so I pranced up and down several platforms like a kid in a candy store. Mrs. Paris just sat and shook her head and I’m sure wondered when I would arrange to grow up.

Our train, the Artesia de Nuit, finally showed up on the departure’s board but without a track assigned. A vast crowd of anxious looking travelers began to gather around and at about 5:30, our train was assigned to Track 9. The crowd positioned itself at the head of that platform awaiting the arrival of our train. At 5:50 there was still no train and our departure was scheduled for 6:10. I walked around a little bit more and finally at 6:00, someone came out pushing a little information kiosk on wheels inscribed with the Artesia logo; our train crew, neatly uniformed, took their positions on the platform; and our train came floating into position on Track 8 which had everyone momentarily rescrambling for position. At 6:05, boarding began and the mob of Second Class passengers literally ran like rats down the platform to the far end of the train like it was sale day at Harrod’s. Mrs. Paris and I made a short and peaceful saunter over to our assigned First Class carriage and met our polite and attractive car attendant who directed us to our proper compartment.

I beat our luggage into submission and wrestled it down the narrow passageway and slapped it into place in our small but clean and nicely appointed compartment. There was a sitting couch, a large window, a small table which lifted to reveal a sink, and a vanity mirror behind which we found amenity kits with the usual suspects and little sealed plastic cups of drinking water.

We settled in and not a minute past 6:10, we felt the slightest surge through the train and we began to pull out of Il Termini. Ciao Bella Roma…linger sempre nel miei cuore e mente.

Our car attendant reappeared, flashed his very Roman smile and welcomed us aboard. He informed us that the bath was at the end of the car, he would be back to make our beds around 10:00 and would return in the morning with coffee and breakfast. He also requested our tickets and passports and assured us those would be returned in the morning as well.

The evening had grown quickly dark so the suburbs of Roma flew by as mere flashes of light. I popped the cork on the very slurpable little red wine we had gotten Monday night at the family trattatoria we had dined at and we sipped on it out of plastic cups we had stuck in our little survival kit. I reached for my Vanity Fair which I had drug all this way and Mrs. Paris decided she would nap a bit.

I suddenly had the urge to go for a walk so I made my way towards the front of the train. The next car up was some kind of “Super First Class” with a sort of Jetson space age theme. There were little fairy lights in the passageway ceiling and everything was curvy and sexy in a 1960s kind of way…very Disney Tomorrowland if you know what I mean.

These were all slightly larger compartments and each had a private toilet. None of them were occupied by anyone other than the crew who had gathered in the little bar to smoke and drink espresso. As I approached, one of them mumbled, in Italian, something in my direction and guffed a bit but another one looked at me, shook his head and muttered something else then waved his head toward the car door and I guess that meant I could pass without paying a tariff and so I did.

The next car forward was the dining/café car where the crew was busy preparing the tables for the dinner service. I was informed dinner would be served at 8:30 and would I like to make a reservation which, of course, I did. I returned, at that point, back to Mrs. Paris to inform her of our dinner plans.

The train stopped in Firenze for about 30 minutes while they moved the locomotive to the other end of the train. This meant that we were now at the front and all the Second Class masses where at the rear which is as it should be. I stepped out onto the platform in Firenze where our cabin attendant was enjoying a smoke and visited with him for a minute. I wished we could have just spent the next day exploring Firenze but alas, the signal was given, we reboarded and slowly began to accelerate out of Firenze Termini. We were soon flying across the Italian countryside towards Dijon and Paris.

Several passengers had boarded in Firenze and I noticed a number of the “Super First Class” compartments were occupied as we made our way towards the dining car.

Dinner service was friendly and delicious. The table was set with china and silver and there were water bottles and half-bottles of red wine on each table. The meal was from a set menu…the only choice was the entrée meat. The food was brought out on large serving platters so it was almost like eating family style!

The First Course was a wonderful gnocchi in a roasted tomato sauce. For gnocchi that were heated up in a kitchen the size of a closet, they met the ethereal quality that distinguishes great gnocchi from hockey-puck gnocchi.

For the Main Course, you had a choice between slices of roast beef or sliced pork roast. I nearly fell over when I saw the vegetable…oven-roasted Brussels sprouts. They are, when properly cooked, my absolute favorite vegetable and I am happy to say these were properly cooked. I would like to see the look on the faces in FC if AA ever decided to enhance the First Class meal with Brussels sprouts!

I was happy that the trim and attractive server made a second pass through with the dish of Brussels sprouts…there were just a few left and I think he knew by my smile I wanted all of them which he obliged me with.

For dessert, we were offered a slice of apple tart followed by coffee. The tab came to nearly 80 bucks service included which I thought was a BIT pricey but what are you going to do. It’s not like you can order out for pizza.

After dinner we walked towards the back of the train to check out the Second Class compartments which were about the size of ours but designed to sleep up to 6 people, depending on the configuration and price paid. We then made our way back up to our compartment and Mrs. Paris decided it was close to bedtime so she was relieved when our car attendant appeared to prepare our little slice of heaven for bed. We stepped into the passageway and watched as he pulled a few levers, turned a few knobs, fluffed a few pillows, and presto, a lower and upper sleeping bunk complete with ladder to access the upper bunk.

Mrs. Paris slipped into her sleeping attire but I decided to take a walk which, of course, meant check out the bar which was located in the other half of the dining car. There were still several people enjoying a beer or beverage of their choice so I sat down on a stool next to a window and ordered a half-bottle of wine and just enjoyed being here, speeding through the night, surrounded by what appeared to be interesting and happy people. I overheard one conversation and just about slipped off my stool…the accent of one of the participants involved in the conversation was a dead giveaway and when he introduced himself to someone my suspicions were confirmed…Little Rock, Arkansas. I whipped around and introduced myself from Kansas City, MO and we had a good laugh about meeting here, on the night train to Paris as we sped through the Northern Italian countryside. Even more amazing was he worked for a company where I do a lot of contract work.

Well, we ended up talking until way too late as he related his story…seems as a celebration of the one-year anniversary of his divorce, he and his best friend from AR plopped down their credit cards, bought tickets into and out of Amsterdam, a couple of Eurorail passes and had spent the last 3 weeks just marching all over Europe. They were on their way to a last night in Paris then off to Amsterdam for their flight home. While the motivation for the trip is not anything I’m looking for, the trip itself sounded wonderful.

This is why I love to travel…you meet amazing people with fascinating stories that you would never get to hear if you were sitting in your robe, on your couch at home, watching “Everyone Loves Raymond”!

After enjoying my wine and a few limoncellos from the bar, the bar attendant announced "Last Call" and so everyone ordered enough beers to last for a while…soon it was me, Mr. Little Rock, a couple of Germans, and a group of Somalians who were on their way to Paris to visit family. It was the UN of night trains!

Mr. Little Rock decided that we needed to make a proper toast to our evening so he returned to his compartment and fetched a bottle of Russian Vodka he had bought while visiting some former Eastern Bloc nation, the name of which had slipped his mind…oh my…the vodka was potent and fast acting and soon we were joined by a few of the train’s crew who had completed their assigned tasks and were looking for a sip and a smoke.

Well, at some point, I did manage to make my way back to the correct compartment…I think it was about 3:00 in the morning when I climbed into my upper berth but the next day Mrs. Paris announced it was closer to 6:00…oh dear…that was some strong vodka and great conversation!

Soon, I was poked awake by a finger in my ribs and we were beginning our final approach into Paris Bercy. This is a small and easily navigated station with a Metro stop just steps outside. We gathered our belongs and bid a fond farewell to the Artesia and then soon were lugging our things up and down the Chatelet Metro stop until finally we burst into a freezing cold but sunny Paris morning. We walked a block or two but I decided that the only way to arrive at the Park Hyatt Vendome was in a proper Parisian Taxi so we found a stand and soon were whisking towards our hotel.

We approached the entrance to the hotel, our driver made a graceful U-turn right in front of the new Flagship Cartier store which currently, while under construction, resembles a four-story tall jewelry box. The Parisians are so creative when it comes to masking construction zones…when they want to be.

Our taxi slowed to a stop in front of the entrance to the Park Hyatt Vendome and the tuxedoed door-staff flung into action. Our luggage was yet again transferred from trunk to trolley, I paid the taxi driver, Mrs. Paris was escorted inside out of the frigid Paris morning and we were directed towards the front desk.

While I do have a few utterly minor quibbles about our stay here at the Park Hyatt…I must say that the hotel is beautiful in a contemporary yet refined way…the color palate is all browns and blacks and cremes and this goldish-amber hue. I approached the front desk where I was warmly greeted and informed that our room was not yet ready but would be soon. We decided to take a seat next to the fireplace in the lobby and enjoy a lovely cappuccino served to us by the trimmest and most attractive wait staff one could hope for.

The entire hotel staff seems to have been hired direct from the runways at Givenchy and Dior. Everyone was stunningly young, trim in that Euro-sort of way, and unfailing attractive in their black tuxes and dresses. The really noticeable thing was everyone seemed friendly…not in that over-the-top American diner sort of “hi I’m Susie, I’m married, have two kids, enjoy jogging and watching Oprah and I’m your server what can I get you in the way of a drink?” way that is much too familiar. Every time we came and went we were greeted with a polite and refined smile and the appropriate salutation.

We enjoyed our beverages and before long I was approached by a guest services manager who introduced herself, welcomed us to the Park Hyatt and announced she was here to escort us to our room.

We gathered our wits and things and headed towards the elevator.

techgirl

Another beautiful installment. My favorite part is coming, right?

mad_atta

More great stuff, mwp2paris. That train ride sounds like fun!

mwp2paris

We stepped onto the dramatically lit lift and our escort pushed the button for Floor Four. We arrived and walked around the softly padded and seductively lit corridor towards Room 412.

Our room was on the backside of the hotel overlooking a narrow side street that juts off the Rue de la Paix. While we didn’t have a view of the Place’ Vendome, we did have 2 huge French windows that opened onto a terrace that overlooked a classic street scene from Paris.

Our escort showed us a few features of the room and assured us that the rather heavy perfume scent was a result of the recent cleaning and would dissipate within minutes. Of course it never really did because, in keeping with the newest fashion statement that all the Luxe Hotels in Paris are adopting, the Park Hyatt has its own designer label fragrance that it pipes through the air system. I rather liked it but Mrs. Paris found the afternotes a bit woodsy for her tastes. The aroma meshed well with all the dark taupes and goldish-amber tones of the room and hallways.

The room was comfortably large though not to the degree of our Junior Suite in Roma. There was a King Bed, one sitting chair (there should really be two), a desk and chair and a nice walk-in closet. The bathroom was to die for…all marble with a separate toilet (alas, no bidet), a double vanity sink, and the most amazing bath/sink/shower combo I have ever seen…you walk up two steps and are in what is basically a room that is closed off from the rest of the bathroom by glass and marble. The entire thing is a super-sized shower and I felt sorry for the poor chambermaid who had to clean it down every day.

We unpacked and decided to explore our Right Bank neighborhood a bit. We bundled up in our most Parisian black leather coats and cashmere scarves, descended down to the Lobby and waltzed out into a still freezing Paris early afternoon.

There is no better city than Paris…and to go out of your hotel, turn left, walk a couple of blocks, turn the corner, and be in the Place de Opera with that amazing piece of whipped cream, granite, and folly, the Palais Garnier et de l'Opéra…how can one not fall in love with Paris madly and deeply every time one sets foot in it? I know I can’t.

L'Opéra is still breathtaking after 9 years of looking at it and at night when the façade is lit up…très magnifique et une poésie aux yeux et à l'âme.

We circled the block, walking down to Place de la Madeleine, which is just such a lovely and endearing square. The Church of the Madeleine in the middle of the square, standing silent but dignified watch over the most famous food purveyors in the world (Hediard and Fauchon) may look dark and foreboding, but inside, it is all light and air with an amazing sculpture “The Ecstasy of Saint Mary Magdalen” by Marochetti. It is a breathtaking piece of art…as amazing as any at the Louvre and one can’t help but be taken in by the look of divine joy on the face of Mary. Actually, it is nearly the look I have everytime I set a foot in Paris. Do not miss stepping into this space when you are on your way to Fauchon to purchase preserved goose and tins of coffee to take home.

By now the bone-chilling cold was working its way through our leather so we scurried back to our hotel and I decided to check out the spa. Very relaxing, done in all marble, it featured a nicely appointed locker-room with a lovely dry-spa complete with TV which always seemed to be set at a volume much to high for such small quarters, a large and relaxing hammam, and loads of big fluffy towels and robes. As has been reported on the FT Hyatt Board, the female staff tend to bound in without warning which can be a bit disconcerting when one is comfortably ensconsed in the sauna, but it really wasn't that obtrusive as they did show a measure of decency and tended to dart right out when they saw there were patrons about.

After sweating out the remnants of the Russian vodka from the train ride the night before, I felt completely refreshed and made my way back up to Room 412 to prepare for our first dinner in Paris.

A Nostalgic Remembrance

Our first trip to Paris was in November 1995. We arrived in FC on AA back in the last waning glory days of true International First Class Flagship Service with its caviar and free flowing Perrier Jouet, Fleur de Champagne. We had booked 12 nights at the divine little Hotel De Nevers on Rue De Bac.

I had, through a variety of faxes, managed to secure Room 11 which was on the top floor requiring walking up 4 flights of winding marble stairs. The room was a bit tired looking furniture wise, but had a nicely sized bath and a French window which you could open and step up and out of to access the large veranda which overlooked the roofs of Paris...we spent many a day out there, eating our sausage and cheese and drinking our wine even though it was often quite cold.

Our first evening, having recovered from our jetlag, we inquired at the front desk for a dinner recommendation and without hesitation, the very hospitable host suggested La Brasserie Thoumieux, and gave us directions to 79, rue St. Dominique, nearly in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.

It was a misty, damp, cool, dark, perfect evening…our first night ever in Paris. Mrs. Paris and I set out from our hotel, hiked up Rue de Bac, walked over and finally found Thoumieux.

It was the absolutely quintessential way to spend the first night of our lives in Paris. The décor, the service, the food…just amazing. I still remember I had Foie Gras that was smooth like velvet and danced on my palate; an amazing fish that had been stuffed with herbs and grilled then served with the head on, my first ever!; and a cheese course. A bottle of house wine, a cup of Parisian café…heaven.

Thoumieux, since that one romantic and magical night when we walked hand in hand after our first dinner in Paris up to the Seine and took a Bateau Mouche on a rainy, hypnotic cruise down around the Notre’ Dame and back, has become our traditional First Night Dinner when we arrive in Paris. The only thing that has changed is my now traditional First Night Entrée at our traditional First Night Dinner at our traditional First Night Restaurant in Paris.

Back to the Present

We bundled up in our warmest black, were politely and refinely greeted by the staff of the Park Hyatt as we walked out into the early evening chill of Paris. We walked down through the Place de Vendome and turned and walked down along the Seine, crossed over the Pont du Alexander Trois and finally arrived at Thoumieux.

Lord, Yet Another Nostalgic Remembrance

We have been here many times…usually it is just Mrs. Paris and me but there was one wonderful evening in November 2001 when we were joined by several fellow FTers who were on a CDG MR. I had met many of them on the amazing AA SJC-TPE run when we returned to the States on 9/09/01 not knowing that the giddy and wonderful experiences we had had traveling together would take a tragic and forever changed turn just 2 days later.

It was, as I said, November 2001 and Mrs. Paris and I were enjoying our first evening at the Paris Hilton, relaxing in the Club Lounge overlooking the Eiffel Tower, trying to recover from our night of travel in Envoy Class on US Airways. Suddenly, and nearly without warning, the fabulous Techgirl and her entourage burst into the lounge and of course there were hugs and kisses all around; Mrs. Paris looked momentarily stunned by the whole scene; we tried our best to sip away the free booze as we stood on the outdoor balcony soaking up the view; and then decided to all go to dinner…and of course, I recommended, because it IS the only place I eat my first dinner in Paris, Thoumieux.

The gracious concierge called and reserved us a table and we walked and laughed our way over, enjoyed an amazing and slightly out-of-control dinner then waltzed arm-in-arm up to the Champs-Elysees to Laduree for sweets and more booze and that amazing thick-as-molassas hot chocolate!

Yet another experience you don’t have when sitting in your robe on your couch watching “Everyone Loves Raymond.” I figure, I’ll do that when I’m in my early 100s!

God Almighty...We are Back to the Present

This evening, we entered Thoumieux and were warmly greeted, our coats were hung and we were escorted to a lovely banquette near the front of the restaurant. Two Kir Royales and a little nibble of nuts set the mood. For dinner, I chose Cabecous chaud en salade, a salad of frisse lettuce, dressed in the most delicate vinaigrette and topped with 3 croutons over which thick slices of goat cheese had been melted and were still warm and bubbly…heaven. That was followed by my now traditional First Entrée in Paris… Cassoulet façon Thoumieux. Thoumieux’s version is classic…large, tender ingot beans that have been cooked in a rich, hearty broth that hide a variety of treats…sausage, thick slices of pork hock, duck confit, herbs and garlic all topped with bread crumbs and broiled under the salamander.

Yes sir…this is Paris and all that is good and great, sliding across my palate. Welcome indeed!!!

Mrs. Paris enjoyed something wonderful as a First Course, though I must admit I don’t really remember because I was swooning over my salad at that point, but she, for her Main Course, had a most amazing piece of salmon that had been grilled to absolute perfection…it truly was a wonderful dish.

As we sat and enjoyed our dinner, we also were entertained by the 2 couples enjoying dinner together at the next table. They were very Parisian yet out to have a lively and fun evening. They seemed to know the Maitre’ de because he spent much of the evening at their table. There were lots of loud and evidently very funny stories being shared in French, the volume of which increased as the amount of wine consumed increased.

The food that this table of trim Parisians consumed was testament to the power of the French Paradox…blood sausages, salads, soups and a serving of cassoulet to begin then each got their own entrée…I was stuffed just watching them. But they continued to eat and laugh and I was seduced by their joie de la vie. It only made our evening that much more enchanting.

For dessert, Mrs. Paris ordered her favorite…Ile Flotante and I ordered Profiteroles. A little Parisian café to finish it all off and we floated back out into the now freezing Paris evening. We caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower just as we turned to head back to our hotel. It leapt into its full sparkle of flashing diamonds and was the perfect nightcap to our return to the City of Love.

Fliar

STOP, NO MORE!!! I'm getting too jealous