"Ma petite July"

I promise to keep this post short and sweet in honor of one of the most omnipresent words in French.
"petit"

examples:
"un petit weekend"
"petit cafe"
"des petites remarques"
"un petit beurre"
"aux petits oignons"
etc. etc.

its apparent: "less is more" is a phrase quite pertinent to French culture and language. We drink little coffees, pack little suitcases, have little picnics, ask little questions, and even have a "petit ami". I cannot count the times I've been called "ma petite July"...

Enfin, bref.

Five petits places in Paris

1. Le Relais de La Butte, 12 Rue Ravignan 17e
 Nestled in the crux of the Montmatre bustle, you can drink a coffee, eat a modest yet satisfying brunch (freshly squeezed orange juice!) or during colder warm yourself with a mulled wine, all while enjoying a unprecedented view of the city. Climb up the stairs and take a break in a shaded square just above and afterwards follow the winding cobblestone paths to the heart of Mt. Mercury for a quick tour of the Sacré Coeur and some live music, or perhaps a puppet show.

2. Passage Brady, starts 43 rue du Faubourg-Saint-Martin 10e
Transport into another world as you stray away from the bustle of one Faubourg (literally means false city) and take a somewhat esoteric shortcut to another. Stop at an Indian bistro for authentic curries and naan, check out the food market for a lesson in exotic fruits and vegetables (a French lesson as well) and make sure you sample the rose-flavoured latti and smell each if the essential oils in an unbelievably extensive array of exotic flowers and spices.

3. Port de l'Arsenal, Boulevard de la Bastille 12e
Take Line 1, Line 5, or Line 8 to the Bastille metro, try not to ogle too long at Place de la Bastille, grab some snacks and a bottle of wine (don't forget the corkscrew..) and head down Boulevard de la Bastille, following the canal. This small park is ideal for romantic strolls, early night gatherings, and picnics by the water. There are plenty of places to sit comfortably and a lively ambiance. Do come around dusk if you are planning an apéro; the security is not very amicable when giving the boot around midnight.

4. Mosquée de Paris, 2 bis Place du Puits de l'Ermite, 5e
The 2 euro cup of sweet mint tea is unrivaled, especially in a city where coffee and wine is 2-5 times less expensive than tea. On one side of the mosque you can explore the courtyards, patios, and the prayer rooms  but dress accordingly, as you will be required to wear a burlap sack if you are showing too much skin. On the other side, relax with a cup of tea, a tasty honey pastry, or even a hookah. In the heart of the tea room check out the store for gorgeous postcards, unique pottery, and comfortable shoes.

5. Free'P'Star, 8 Rue Ste Croix la Bretonnerie, 4e
Looking for a challenge? In Paris on a budget? Got a thing for vintage? I recommend this second-hang shop for anyone who likes 5 euro hats, 15 euro boots, funky dresses (polyester anyone?) or green military jackets. If your feeling cheeky, climb the metal ladder leading to the alcove where you will have to muster all of your shopping skills in order to dig through large bins stuffed with sequins, lace, unidentifiable articles, long hippie skirts, and smoking jackets, all for 1 euro a piece. I advise you not to go on a Saturday afternoon and to meticulously wash whatever treasures you find. Also.. beware of what may be lurking in the pockets ...


happy travels & mille bisous! - july

le guide des festivals par July

On Friday, May 18th I left Paris for  la 7ème vague, my first festival à la française. Although I have seen my fair share of these types of events in the US of A, nothing could prepare me for the next 24 hours of n'importe quoi.

Getting to Brétignolles-sur-Mer was an eclectic concoction of bikes, métros, a nice man named adrien, and sheer luck. After 7 hours of travel, we were dragging our two cases of beer, two tents, two pints of booze, and single can of green beans to the campsite, a little weary and wrinkled but content to have finally made it.

The first thing I noticed upon arriving was the omnipresence of a certain two-person pop-up tent, apparently an ingenious French invention, according to my boyfriend. My second observation: the impeccable sense of fashion is not limited to Paris. Although the amount of “hippies” was inevitably more dominant than that I have grown accustomed to, even the more grass-root types were dressed with matching scarves and these incredibly baggy Aladdin-style pants.

We threw our tent out of its case and voilà – our little home away from home was ready. Next, we sat in a large circle of friends and had a little apéro, in America I believe we call this pre-gaming. The concert venue itself did not allow drinks to be brought in from the campsite so the general idea was to consume as many alcoholic beverages as possible beforehand. 

The concert itself started off remarkably well. The first act that we saw was Shantel, a German DJ who makes Balkan-techno music. I was thoroughly impressed and danced like a fool for the entire set. As I was eating dust and sweating out the beer I had consumed earlier on in the evening, I made a deal with my companions to search for beer during the transition between groups. First we had to exchange our money for strange yellow tokens and then we had to cross over to the other side of the arena to exchange the tokens for small plastic cups. I did not succeed in the quest for beer because I lost my group of friends, but being a foreigner in a strange place made this quite amusing for me and for others who noticed my strong American accent.

As I heard Stuck in the Sound start playing a lovely tune called, “Ouais”, I made my way up to the front, taking a technique I learned from an unknown French girl at Bastille during the recent presidential elections. Basically what you do is yell loudly “C’est parti!” and you dive through the mass, head down and arms forward. I spent the next thirty or so minutes (each set was so short!!) crushed against the barrier, head-banging, fist-pumping, and other nonsense.

The next act worth remarking was Birdy Nam Nam. Really cool stuff, I would like to call it “like a smooth-ish funky jazz-electro blend”.

I spent some time on the shoulders of a nice boy from Nantes. We also spent a set talking about the differences between French and Americans, finally reaching to a conclusion that Americans are more approachable yet superficial while French are cold yet sincere. Also that food is gross in America. 

In the end, when I finally found my lost boyfriend and we recounted what had happened during our time spent apart, a dropped and miraculously recovered wallet, a head-butt to the face, a stolen cell phone, a quick round of blackjack on the grass, and many bruises. The crowd was slowly but surely turning into zombies towards the end of the last act so we made our way back to the tent, polished off a bottle of whiskey, ate some nuts and crawled into our little pop-up tent.

Upon awaking, I noticed two things: that there was a terrible monsoon going on outside and also that there was a boy on each side of me. I woke up my boyfriend to let him know that we had a unknown visitor who was seemed to have mistaken my shoulder as a pillow. My boyfriend did not believe me at first but after some poking and shaking, he realized that there was indeed another man in our little love nest. He promptly woke him up our and said “hey man, get out” and our visitor replied with “would you like me to get out the drinks?” I must say watching my boyfriend, scantily clad in small European style man undies, open up the tent flap and throw the intruder outside, was quite enjoyable and not something I will forget for at least 4 more hippie festivals.

We ended up leaving early on Saturday and not staying, as planned, until Sunday afternoon. I was a little bit disappointed on account of the amount of perseverance we had shown up to this point in time but was placated by a lovely Indian dinner at my favorite restaurant in Paris, Krishna Bhavan with some stunningly beautiful friends.

So in the end, I've decided to make a short guide for those of you who wish to experience a French music festival. 

1. DO know how to speak French, at least be able to hold a short conversation. I kept repeating a phrase over and over in my head... a bit cliché but "this isn't Paris anymore..." Even a few people I met who tried to speak English when they heard my accent were charming, but impossible to understand. Highly amusing, yet potentially frustrating.

2. DON'T use any mind altering drugs. Bring plently of booze and you will get along famously.

3. DO bring a little pop-up tent. Really, these tents are incredible. Easy to carry, easy to set up, easy to put away. No metal poles, no problems. According to my boyfriend they can be found at Decathlon and are not expensive.

4. DON'T forget your scarf. Not only is it a nice accessory for your french hippie gear, but it also keeps your neck warm!

5. DON'T let them know that your arm tattoo is real. Just take my advice on this one.

6. DON'T be surprised when the whole festival disbands. It could have been our lack of food, or perhaps the flood in our tent, but it seemed as though the group I was with did not hestitate to leave, nor did anyone else at the site.

7. DO be okay with heavy smoking inside of your little tent and in tightly packed crowds of people. If you cannot support this dirty little habit, you will not be a happy camper.

8. DO learn a few French songs. I wish that I could have joined in when the camp site broke out into song and dance.

good luck to all and happy festivus :)