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Meet Stromae, the new Maestro of Europe's music scene...

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The smile. The voice. The long, lean, androgynous body. The elegant look. The smart, if mournful lyrics, both poetic and realistic, a sharp contrast to the catchy tunes, a blend of rap, hip hop, electronic music and Latin rhythms.  

Meet Stromae the 28-year Belgian-born artist who is taking Europe (and French Canada) by storm. 

Stromae - French slang for "Maestro" - has developed a cult following in most European countries. If the social media is any indicator of success, numbers are impressive: 2.6 million follow his Facebook page. His most popular video to date, Formidable, has received over 43 million hits on Youtube. 

Two albums (Racine Carrée, Square Root, came out last spring.) Awards up the wazoo. His public appearances are greeted with much anticipation. He can discuss his origins, his career, and the issues confronting European youth articulately. He seems surprised, and humbled, by his success, but exudes self-confidence and controls all aspects of his career.

The guy has talent, and smarts. What's not to like?





French friends recommended I checked him out. I liked what I heard. 

His first big hit was Alors on Danse, (Then you Dance,) a song he wrote about a friend going through a tough time. Some of Stromae's favorite themes are in the song: the rat race, divorce, loneliness, hopelessness. Yet, the pace is upbeat, and one can't help watching the short movie... Stromae sold three million copies of the first album. 




Stromae, it turns out, is a trained musician, an accomplished percussionist, a fan of poetry. He studied cinema once, and it shows. He loves acting. All of his video clips play like mini-movies. 

The Guardian nicknamed him: "The Morrissey of the Eurozone," because of his realistic and gloomy lyrics.

The young Belgian Dandy is also compared to one of his homeland's most shining star, the late Jacques Brel, and was recently featured in the New York Times in a flattering piece. Are the United States his next stop? 

The fact that Stromae does not try to imitate other European artists by singing in English, might limit his appeal. Yet I noticed English subtitles in his most popular video, Formidable. Didn't I tell you the kid had smarts?

Formidable happens to be an amazing song, thanks to Stromae's acting skills and creativity. The chorus is a clever play on words:


"Tu es formidable, je suis fort minable..." 
(You are wonderful, I am pathetic) 

(For those of you who study the French language, fort is often used in Belgium and the Northern part of France to translate très - very. Un minable is a loser.) 

The song tells the story of a painful breakup. The guy is drunk and mourns his failed relationship.  

Even if Stromae is acting (he grins at the camera at the end of the clip,) the video was shot with a hidden camera in downtown Brussels on a rainy morning (there are a lot of rainy mornings in Brussels, Belgium...) Passers-by did not know they were being taped. At some point, three policemen approach Stromae (they recognize him,) and offer to give him a ride home. He declines, and they let him go. 

Belgian cops are the most relaxed and understanding police force in the world!

The video clip went viral when leaked online, and the rest is history...






The young artist seems unstoppable. His new album tops European charts. My favorite song: Papa Outai ("Papa où t'es?" - Where are you, Daddy?) He draws on his personal experience to tell the story of a child with an absent father. 

The son of a Belgian mother and a Rwandan father, who later died in the Rwanda genocide, Stromae only met his own dad a few times in his life. The video clip is creative; the tune catchy and no doubt rocking all dance floors in Europe! My favorite line: 


"Tout le monde sait comment on fait des bébés;
Personne ne sait comment on fait des papas."


(Everyone knows how to make babies;
Nobody knows how fathers are made.)


Papa Outay (Stromae) 





This week, to promote his ongoing French tour, Stromae made the headlines, and once again created a big buzz in the media, when he appeared at a popular talk show. Thanks to creative visual effects, he was able to introduce the audience to his "moitié"  (his better half,) in a hilarious skit. They both sparred in front of the audience for a few minutes before he/she launched in an entertaining rendition of "Tous les Mêmes," (They are all the same.) Stromae's carefully cultivated androgynous look and acting skills came in handy. He brought the house down. 



Stromae and his better half (amazing special effects!)


Click here to watch the live performance.
(Song starts at 1:37)



Stromae... or Stromae?

I would love to hear what you think about my new friend. I am adding his new CD to my Christmas list and can't wait to listen to the other songs on the album.

In the meantime, I know Stromae would approve the ending of this post: I will leave you with an iconic live performance by the great Belgian artist Jacques Brel, Amsterdam. 


A bientôt.










A European Vacation (part 2)

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How I like to start my day sur la Côte d'Azur...
(Photo credit: Chronicles from the shore

Bonjour from Nice! 

How I love this summer ritual and the time spent
in my favorite French city...

This year, things were a bit different. 
Junior was invited to tag along with Maman, you see.

I'd say he made the most of it...

Skateboarding along "La Prom'" (Promenade des Anglais) 
Shooting the Bay of Angels 
Making friends at the Nice Sailing School

Moi? I had fun too. 

This year, there were fewer field trips outside of town, 
but I got to spend quality time with Nissa la Bella
relaxing with a local friend
 or exploring on my own;
walking; shooting; observing from my favorite cafés...

Two friends (and bloggers) pay tribute to a favorite artist...
Nice's M.O.M.A. (Museum of Modern Art) 
The iconic Negresco, the Museum-Hotel...
At the Negresco, even ice cream is elegant...

At times, the weather just got too hot,
or I just got too lazy...
My favorite retreat?
The small apartment we rented in the heart of the Old Town.
The Crow's nest. 
Six flights of stairs to reach the door.
But once there, the terrace. The view. 
I could not get enough.







Le Vieux Nice. The Old Town.
It is my favorite place to stay.
Is it Italy? Is it France?
Who cares. It's Old Europe, and that's good enough.
Sure, there are tourists around.
Restaurants are packed at night.
But real people live there.
There are surprises at almost every turn.


Rue du Malonat, Vieux Nice...
La Dolce Vita on Place Rossetti...
Going down Castle Hill...
Le Chat et la Deuche (2CV)

Once again, I was enthralled by Nice, and its unique beauty;
The light, the colors, that seduced so many before this French Girl.

For at night, the Southern Belle sizzles...


Cours Saleya 
La grande dame of Nice palaces...
Plage Beau Rivage (private beach) 


Yet, daytime offers many grandiose, or picturesque sights...



Le Fast Food de Nice 
Marché Saleya
Nice, le Port...
"Les Pointus," the traditional fishing boats...
Secluded pebble beaches...

Yes, this week has gone by too fast.
It is time to say "Au revoir,à bientôt, Nice."

Tomorrow, Junior and I will board another TGV (high speed train.) 
It will travel south, to Spain's Costa Brava.

One last week of European adventures.
The Mediterranean. Best place to be.
No reliable Wifi connection where we will be staying.
But a few photos posted on French Girl in Seattle's Facebook page.
Finally, back in Seattle, just in time to wrap up July.

Happy summer! Thank you for traveling with us!


Un grand Merci:

A Emer, Rob and the rest of the Irish gang for a wonderful evening al fresco.

A Marie. Nice would not be the same without you, mon amie.

A l'année prochaine.



French Girl * hearts* Nice!


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Panne d'inspiration... (Lacking inspiration...)

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Petite fille, Rueil Malmaison

Ah, the places I've been. The stories I could tell. The photos I could post.

Dommage. Panne d'inspiration. Lacking inspiration. 

We returned from our most excellent adventure a week ago. I have thought several times about writing a new story. The poor blog has been a tad neglected on this trip...

Thank goodness for Facebook: I would not have been able to stay in touch, otherwise.

I could use the standard excuse: I have been busy. 

And it is true, I have.

Junior if off sailing with his Dad on the Puget Sound, a summer tradition. 

This means I have the house to myself for 13 days. Youpie! (that's "Ya-hoo," in French, folks!) 

What have I been doing?

Catching up with mes amies, of course. You may remember the cowgirl. She has adopted a new furry friend. Sweet *little* thing, all 400 pounds of her. She has just arrived at the ranch, and she already follows the cowgirl around like a dog... A bit shy still, but she will get better. Naturally, I had to go over and meet her! 


Peeps, meet Calliope, the "mini-cow..." 

I have met other friends, too, and - as you might expect - there has been plenty of...

Is that an uplifting sight, or is that an uplifting sight?

I have also been re-engineering my house. From top to bottom. Room after room. Pulling out unused, unwanted items, and preparing two huge piles: One for Goodwill. One for the dumping station (I love taking stuff to the dumping station, don't you? So liberating...)

Once a Type A, always a Type A. Who says all big house cleaning has to be done in the spring? I say: "Why spend time outside baking in the sun like the rest of Seattle? I am being productive while protecting my baby skin."


Au revoir, la sorcière. So long, witch.
Hope you find a good home to park that broom!

Talking about which (no pun intended,) there are so many stories I could tell you about the trip... if I wasn't lacking inspiration.

There was the day I left the muggle world behind and visited my friend Harry Potter outside of London... I still haven't recovered. 

Recognize this neighborhood?
I always knew I would attend Hogwarts one day...

There was the day Junior and I drove around Paris in a refurbished "Deuche" (2 CV.) I can confirm: Everything looks much, much better through the window (or the convertible top) of a Deuche. That is a fact. 





There was the day I arrived at Marie-Antoinette's domain, in Versailles. I fell in love with the domain. Again. Later, I fell in love with the Sun King's Orangerie, a part of the castle I had somehow missed over the years, when I visited with my relatives as a child. Have you ever taken a walk in a beautiful garden, with endless vistas, surrounded by a hundred different types of orange trees, all in bloom? C'était quelque chose... It was something... Thank goodness, no tourists were picnicking there. Tourists can be so tacky and disrespectful... 

Le Hameau:
Wearing my nicest t-shirt in case I bump into royalty...

What a big ego, a lot of money and an awful lot of taste can do...

Have them (and their sandwiches) removed and sent to la Bastille!

There was the day I visited the lively, colorful, crazy world of London's Camden Markets... and went on a shopping spree at the cute Lily J. store. I even invested in a dress and a skirt. And my girlfriends know this French Girl does NOT do dresses! Wait until they see me wearing that lacy number...


Horse Tunnel Market: Best section!
Spooky. Choke-full of vintage clothing and accessory stores.

Chez Lily J.: Bad, Bad, French Girl!!!
Local fast food joint: Cooler seats than chez McDo!

There was the week I returned to my favorite spots in beautiful Nice, over and over again... 

Favorite breakfast place,
a hidden spot a few feet away from bustling Cours Saleya...
 
Favorite dinner spot: Le Gésu, Old Town...

Favorite market: Cours Saleya

Finally, there was the week we remembered why Spain remains one of the most popular destinations in Southern Europe...

Dalí Museum, Figueras 
Senor Pepé's Paella: A family tradition
La Escala, Costa Brava
Two grand-parents and their grandson looking at the "Big Blue"
Empurias, Costa Brava

Ah, the places I've been. The stories I could tell. The photos I could post. 

Dommage. Panne d'inspiration. Lacking inspiration. 

La prochaine fois. Next time. 

A bientôt.


All photos by French Girl in Seattle
Please do not use, reprint, or Pin without permission.
Thank you.

To shop or not to shop... There is no question.

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Americans love shopping. They love deals. 

And why wouldn't they?

Most stores are open 7 days a week, and for at least 10 or 12 hours a day. Special sale weekends are scheduled... every weekend. Deals, promotions, special events, beckon. Return and exchange policies are lenient. Credit rules. 

My favorite time of year to observe natives in shopping mode: Black Friday, a.k.a. the day after Thanksgiving. 

You may not realize this, but it is really worth your while to drive out of your house in the middle of the night and line up in the cold, waiting with hundreds of kindred spirits, for a superstore like Target or Walmart to open their doors. Besides, since you are still wearing your pj's and h.a.w.t. UGG boots, it will be a snap to return to bed afterwards, still clutching your Starbucks double tall eggnog latte, confident you snatched the best deals.


It's Black Fridayyyyyyyyyy!!! 

Granted you might get trampled to death during the traditional Black Friday stampede, and if you survive, a Target or Walmart employee might not. Incidentally, I wonder if the guy the store management sends to unlock doors, gets a special bonus or not? It seems to me he should.




Yes, shopping in America is easy, and encouraged. As someone who has been actively - and satisfyingly - purging closets, an attic, and every corner of my house over the last few months, I shudder when I picture the amount of merde the average [gigantic] American house must contain. 

But it is not just Americans. The French love shopping too.


Rue Ste. Catherine, Bordeaux, France
The winter sale has just started!


Unlike Americans, the French do not have guest bedrooms, or a three (or four) car garage, to store the overflow. They have to be more selective when they buy. Exchanges and returns can be challenging. Store opening hours are more limited than in the US.

And let's not forget the semi-annual sale is strictly enforced by the government. It is a concept that shopping-happy Americans have a hard time grasping. Say whaaaaat? French stores only go on sale twice a year? Well, they do, and they don't, but there is no doubt it is somewhat more difficult to shop in France than in the US. 


Soldes! The magical word!
(lexpress.fr)

All this may help understand why my countrymen spend so much time looking... but not touching. Le Lèche-vitrine, (window shopping, or literally, window-licking,) is a national sport, and a concept young children get introduced to early on...






This weekend, as I was sorting through mail, my mailbox overflowing with catalogues and brochures touting special Christmas deals, I spotted a particular publication because of its bright red cover. As soon as I opened it, I knew I had a winner. 

Now I know this is a reputable company. I know thousands of people will be ordering from that catalogue. But some of their products were too good to pass. I had to call Junior. Together, we flipped through the pages and had a good laugh. These were some of our favorites. I hope you enjoy them too...


Disclaimer: 
If you like/own/are planning to order one of these products, 
please don't be offended by my remarks. 
To each his/her own.
Besides, I am French. What do I know?


Ready? Here we go...

French Girl in Seattle's 2013 Must-Have Holiday gift selection: 
(Or: The gifts you never knew you never needed.)


1. The most unhealthy Holiday gifts e.v.e.r

The United States government is waging war on obesity, a national scourge. Even if Americans are admonished daily to "shake their derrière,"voilà several items that guarantee you will turn into the least fit person in America.


Do not walk or run around the yard. Ride your own miniature train with the kids instead!

The heated furniture cover: Will turn you into a couch potato for life
(and will keep the dog warm)


The remote-controlled beverage cooler:
If you don't go to your soda, your soda will come to you!

The rolling bedside iPad stand: Was the iPad too heavy?
Is this why Apple just launched the new iPad Air?

2. Gifts you absolutely do not need (nope, not even in your wildest dreams!)


The 15-foot inflatable Rudolph:
Scare the Christmas lights out of neighborhood kids in 30 seconds flat!

Canine Culinary Cupcakes:
Because everyone knows Fido needs his own cavity/tummy ache inducing treats for Christmas!

The hands-free hair rejuvenator (Don't ask!) 

Her Majesty's umbrella:
Because, at least in America, EVERYONE wants to look like Queen Elizabeth II


3. Gifts you should never, ever, get for your husband/boyfriend/hubby.



Astronaut's slipper socks:
"Houston, we have a problem!"
The wireless speaker ear warmers:
"Allo? Allo? Bob, do you hear me? Can you pick up milk on the way home?
Allo? Allo? You have Bluetooth! I KNOW you can hear me!!!"

And  last but not least, the undisputed champion... 


Power nap head pillow:
E.T. meets Elephant Man meets... What the... ????



4. Gifts Junior and I would splurge on, if...

... we had $125,000 and $250 to spare, respectively.

The Porsche 917 Le Mans Raceway
(Note: This looks bigger than the first apartment I rented in downtown Paris.) 

The Fashionista Christmas tree...

And so you have it. Aren't these just fah-bu-lous? 

You should be thanking me, right about now, for inspiring so many original gift ideas. 

And since we started this post on a very American note, I choose to end it on a très French note...

Happy Thanksgiving, les amis! Watch out for Black Friday stampede! 






Thanksgiving, as if you were French...

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Thanksgiving has come and gone. Many Americans were fed well enough to build reserves that will last until Christmas (or at least until next week...) 

Relatives and friends have left, leaving behind memories of animated conversations; improvised football games; fights over the the turkey neck or the last scoop of that ultimate delicacy, the sweet potato gratin with marshmallows... There was laughter; there were arguments, and narrowly avoided disasters.

Then came black Friday, (or is it Black Thursday?) Lines formed early outside retail stores. Arguments broke out, as unruly crowds pushed and shoved to get their hands on the elusive "deal. " One Walmart employee died, trampled by anonymous bargain hunters. Life - and the big Thanksgiving weekend show - went on. 

Thanksgiving. You've got to love it. 

As always, my family has been fortunate enough to receive several generous invitations to partake in the festivities. The 2013 vintage did not disappoint: The food was superb and plentiful; Junior and I made new friends. A grand time was had by all.

As I was capturing some of the evening's highlights, I tried to imagine how my French relatives would describe what happened that evening... in their own words, en français

Don't panic. You speak French too. You don't believe me? Keep reading... and see how proficient you are. I bet you'll be surprised.


Thanksgiving (le Jour d'Action de Grâce,) par French Girl in Seattle.


D'abord, il y a un bar bien fourni (a well stocked bar,) 


Les boissons

Ensuite, une belle table, festive...




C'est ma place!

Sur la table, il y a des objets colorés et décoratifs...


Des citrouilles...

Monsieur et Madame les Pèlerins

Mais la pièce de résistance, c'est la dinde... 


La dinde est prête!

Le derrière de la dinde...

Pour préparer une dinde parfaite, il faut une excellente recette...


Très important!

La dinde est énorme, 22 livres (10 kilos.) Il faut la préparer. C'est une mission importante, pour le chef de famille...


Il découpe la dinde...

Quel morceau (piece) préférez-vous?

L'aile?
La cuisse?
Le blanc?

Avec la dinde, on prépare aussi...


La farce
La sauce aux airelles 
La sauce, préparée avec le jus de la dinde

En garniture (on the side,) il y a une sélection de plats (dishes) délicieux...


les haricots verts
La purée de pommes de terre
Les invités sont très heureux...


Bon appétit, les enfants!
Une assiette ( a plate) bien garnie!

Bien sûr, il y a des desserts...


Au revoir, la tarte à la citrouille! 
Au revoir, la tarte aux noix de pecan!

A la fin, on boit du café... mais je préfère un autre verre (glass) de rosé...



Quel festin! 

 Merci, Madame la Dinde...




Merci, les amis...



So, what did you think? Didn't I tell you, you could speak French, too? 

Well done. 

And look here. Can you believe it? Today is December 1, already. We will be celebrating again in just a few weeks...

Bonjour, Décembre. 

A bientôt.


All photos by French Girl in Seattle
Do not use, reprint, or Pin without permission.

Si Versailles m'était conté (Royal affairs in Versailles)

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Gold. So much gold. And carp. Voracious carp, intent on sharing your picnic lunch as you sit by the Grand Canal.





These are my memories of Versailles, the magical place I visited as a child with my family and Parisian relatives.

As I recall, I was not that fascinated with the grandiose castle, the Hall of Mirrors, the King and Queen's apartments; but I adored roaming the grounds, playing hide-and-seek with my brother and cousins. After a while, we collapsed, ravenous, and enjoyed a picnic on the grass by the canal; tossing chips and breadcrumbs at the gigantic carp; laughing as the fish fought for scraps in the dark water, their menacing mouths gaping.

This summer, while in Paris, I decided to return to the Sun King's estate, the castle of all castles. Things have not changed at all. The lines are still among the longest in Europe during peak tourist season. They meander through the giant courtyard, past the golden gates, all the way into the main building, formidable, inescapable, a European rite of passage.




My friend Rick Steves stopped by with his crew a few days after my visit. Rick is a lucky man: He was allowed to tape his new show in an empty château...

The Hall of Mirrors: Make room for Rick and the boys! 
(www.ricksteves.com)

But as many who visit Versailles during peak tourist season know, discovering the Sun King's prized possession can be a grueling experience.


Yikes!

Moi? I stayed away from the palace. I skipped the long lines in the courtyard; aimed for the side entrance, leading to the gardens; and emerged on the other side of the main building, on the terrace overlooking the majestic grounds. I did not stop to take photos, but headed for Marie-Antoinette's domain, at the back of the estate, a thirty-minute brisk walk, while many visitors stayed behind, congregating around the castle and the famous fountains. 

And what a walk that was! Classical music was coming out of the elegant groves (part of Versailles' summer "Musical Garden" show,) and I could picture Louis XIV and his court, strolling the grounds and listening to Jean-Baptiste Lully, the King's favorite composer.

I was one of the first to enter the queen's private domain. I had not seen it since it re-opened in 2006, and I was immediately charmed by its many facets and bucolic appeal. The newly-renovated Petit Trianon. The French garden. The English garden. The temple of Love. And the masterpiece, the Hamlet, a small village - once a working farm - where the Queen played shepherdess. One could spend a whole day (or two,) discovering Marie-Antoinette secret refuge. 


Le Hameau (The Hamlet)
Built 1783-1788, Richard Mique, architect
La maison du jardinier (the gardener's house) 

Le Moulin (the windmill)
Le Petit Trianon
Le Pavillon Français (the French pavillon)
Built 1749-1750 - Ange-Jacques Gabriel, architect

It was hard to pull away, but after a couple of hours, I started walking back, taking a short detour to admire the pink marble splendor of le Grand Trianon. Then I found a spot in the shade where I enjoyed my picnic lunch, reminiscing... My brother and cousins were not there with me that day, but young Parisian children were having fun. "Imagine that," I smiled, "summer camp where kings and queens used to play!




I still had to discover my favorite section of the expansive Versailles grounds. As I approached the castle, I almost bumped into the famous Orangerie. Did my family skip it, years ago? I did not remember it. How grateful I was when I peeked through the gates...






L'Orangerie. Jules-Hardouin Mansart's masterpiece. Imagine hundreds of fragrant orange blossoms; lemon trees; palm trees; elegantly displayed throughout the grounds and kept in giant containers, so they can be winterized in the Orangerie's main building. 




All plants and topiaries are still pruned by hand, by a small crew of young gardeners who were hard at work when I stopped by...



Notice the cardboard shapes used to prune the trees...

The Orangerie building, like the rest of Versailles, is magnificent. The sheer size of the doors; the height of the ceilings; it's almost overwhelming. That's exactly how the Sun King wanted it.



While the plants are outside for the summer,
the building becomes an impressive exhibition hall.

"Yes," I decided, "Versailles still has a lot to offer, and like Montmartre, the Eiffel Tower, or a Seine river cruise at sunset, it would be a shame to miss it."


Versailles attracts over six million visitors a year. With a bit of planning (tickets can be purchased online,) you can skip the big crowds and find your happy place, as I did, at the Sun King's estate. The city of Versailles is lovely. Try and spend time there if you can, after you visit the castle.



Almost three hundred years after the Sun King's death, Versailles keeps us dreaming.



It inspires movie directors, old and new...





Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette (2006) 

The estate is the ideal showcase for French luxury goods...


Charlize does Versailles for Dior

Chanel's 2012 Cruise Collection
(Karl Lagerfeld fits right in and does not even need to wear a wig!) 

... or for iconic French artists...


Gorgeous Vanessa Paradis
(Photographed by Karl Lagerfeld) 

Vanessa Paradis, for her one-night acoustic concert at Versailles' Royal Opera house,
"One Night in Versailles," 2010

And even if sections of the castle can be rented for private parties, (imagine hosting 600 of your very best friends for a birthday bash inside the Orangerie or the Galerie des Batailles,) I sincerely hope that bling-bling* couple Kanye West and Kim Kardashian choose another venue for their upcoming wedding...


Nice necklace, Kanye. The Sun King would approve!

Apparently, the French public agrees. Here are some comments I found online when the rumor emerged that K. W. and K. K. had their eyes on Versailles...

- "N'importe quoi!"
(Nonsense!)

- "Et le couronnement, c'est pour quand?"
(When is the coronation scheduled?)

- "Sur Mars, c'est plus classe, et avec un peu de chance, ils ne reviendront pas!"
(Send them to Mars. It's classier, and with a bit of luck, they won't come back!)


A bientôt.


All photos (unless otherwise noted,) by French Girl in Seattle
Do not use, re-print or Pin without permission.


* Bling-bling. Tacky. Gaudy. Lover of expensive things. Was famously used to refer to former French president Nicolas Sarkozy.



Additional materials: 

Dior's commercial with Charlize Theron. 
Can you spot Marilyn Monroe, Grace Kelly, or Marlene Dietrich? :-) 




Scenes from a Mall

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Cher (Alicia Silverstone,) doing what she does best
Clueless (1995)

I went to the mall today. I don't like malls.

I find them claustrophobic, and predictable. Same store chains. Same food outlets. People everywhere. Even worse at Christmas time. Special sales every two weeks. Then why call them special?


Beam my up, Scotty!
(photographer unknown)

I stay away from malls as much as I can. When I need clothes, I shop online. 

Here in Seattle, most malls are indoor malls. I am sure you can figure out why. When malls are outdoors, umbrellas are available for shoppers to use. Try that in Paris, and Pouf! The umbrellas would be gone in less than a day. Ah, Paris.


Such a treat when those yellow thingies are not needed!

Over the last thirty years, I have lived in several American cities. In the 1980s, as a wide-eyed freshman in Atlanta, Ga., I was fascinated to see my roommates dress up just to go to the mall. The [big] hair. The make up. These Southern girls went all out to visit the Gap and Banana Republic (Remember the safari-themed and travel clothing?) 

Fast forward a few years. Big culture shock when I moved to the Pacific Northwest in the late 1990s. In fleece country, things are more laid-back. One of the most respected local clothing brand is Eddie Bauer. 'Nuff said.

A favorite movie of mine - even if most people did not seem to enjoy it much when it came out in the 1990s - Scenes from a Mall, with Woody Allen and Bette Midler. As an affluent L.A. businessman, Woody sports a ridiculous ponytail and carries around a surf board. The story is set in a crowded shopping mall at Christmas time. The neurotic husband and wife, who are hosting their 16th wedding anniversary that evening, are supposed to run errands. Instead, they bicker; separate; reunite... It is funny, chatty movie, but it also offers a harsh look at the American lifestyle. Malls have never looked quite the same to me since. And I always crack a smile when I spot a sushi restaurant at the local shopping center (watch the show to know why...) 



"Rats. We need to get more sushi!"

Many teen movies take place in malls. Clueless, with the lovely Alicia Silverstone, is one of them. Cher, her character, makes indulging in consumerism look elegant, and cool. When I go to the mall, I see Cher Mini-Me's everywhere I turn. No more padded shoulders. No more high-waisted jeans. Yet, here they are. Cher Wannabes. Shopping with Mom, or with their best friends.


Nice job, Cher.

"Let's go shopping: I have nothing to wear!" 

Today, I had a few hours to kill. The weather was decent (It has been a beautiful summer in Seattle, folks.) I took a long walk with the Yellow Dog, and decided I wanted to spend more time outdoors. So I went to the mall. Logique, non?

It is called University Village. It is an urban mall: You know you have left suburbia and are somewhere in Seattle when you park your car. That makes it ok in my book. The University of Washington and the Husky Stadium are minutes away. But I am not a college student anymore, and I don't care for football (I know, the horror!) This means I can focus on the many boutiques welcoming an eclectic crowd of Seattleites, suburbanites, and out-of-town visitors.

I must say there is something special about University Village. It does not feel claustrophobic. It is pretty. And there are a handful of interesting boutiques, and among the many national chains (yawn!) a few local retailers. 

First, I walked through the lovely Ravenna Gardens.


That chair has my name on it!

The website makes it clear: The store caters to the urban gardener. I aspire to become an urban gardener one day. In fact, I could move into Ravenna Gardens right now. I even spotted a really cool place for my bed, tucked away behind small statues, inspirational signs and a babbling fountain. Ah, quel pied! Heaven, quoi!  


A creative display of Fermob garden furniture (Made in France, bien sûr!) 


Urban gardeners spend less time weeding than suburban gardeners.
As a result, they have more time to meditate...

When I left Ravenna Gardens, I felt refreshed, relaxed... and ready for some shopping. But most stores I passed on the way did not inspire me. J. Crew (or the art of charging a year's worth of [American] college tuition for camo clothing you could find for a few dollars at the local army surplus store.) Lucy, and fancy Lulu Lemon(or the art of making the average woman look and feel fit in fancy yoga wear, even if her daily exercise routine is limited to stepping in and out of the shower.) Ann Taylor. Banana Republic. Tiffany's (but the only women staring at the window displays are not named Audrey and wear LuluLemon lycra pants.) And so on.



Finally, I stepped into a larger store, a place with potential. It is more than a store. It is an experience... There is French music playing in the background (Brigitte Bardot, no less!) There are comfortable spaces where customers (guests?) linger.


They call this a fitting room... It looks better than most people's living rooms!

Stop by for a minute, an hour, or a lifetime...

Mesdames et Messieurs, bienvenue chez Anthropologie!

I just know that chain has an interesting story. If you have heard it, feel free to share it in the comment section! 

It must be the French native in me that responds to the aesthetics appeal of the colorful, surprising store. Creative displays and props. Unique merchandise (or so it seems...) Anyone can find a little something at Anthropologie

Pardon?

Ah, oui, I know. Ridiculous prices. Very true. Well, you can always look (or even touch,) and then go home - as I did - with a fragrant candle. Or a cabinet door knob. Anthropologie has the most interesting cabinet door knobs I have seen in any hardware store. And at $10 a pop, most people save up for a year to equip their entire kitchen.

There's fabulous clothing, bien sûr. I guarantee you will feel unique wearing one of their pieces. 


Chi-chi!



There are books (and the Anthropologie buyer has excellent taste, if I may say so myself...) 


I spotted Jane Austen and Emilie Brontoe classics...
perfectly coordinated with notebooks and soap bars...

Yes,  you have read this book at least 50 times.
It is really the SAME book. They just keep changing the author's name and title!

There is colorful kitchen ware...


Bols français
... and American mugs.

To sum it all up, Anthropologie is so good, so pretty and so clever, that they even make the most mundane chores look irresistible!


Sexy brooms and dish towels, by Anthropologie 
I might start baking if someone gets me one of these...

I am positive even my favorite Ann Taintorcharacters would approve...

(Ann Taintor) 
(Ann Taintor) 

I will be honest. I spent at least an hour chez Anthropologie. That is how long it took to check out every rack of clothing; every knick-knack; smell every candle; close my mouth again every time my jaw dropped when I looked at a price tag; and finally check out with my little gift. 

Good times.

So maybe I do like the American mall after all. Un petit peu

A bientôt.


All photos by French Girl in Seattle.
Do not copy, re-use or pin without permission.
Thank you to my friends at Ravenna Gardens and Anthropologie 
for providing inspiration for this week's story.
Thank you Anne Taintor. You never fail to make me smile.


Urban Gardener wisdom
chez Ravenna Gardens






Noël in Seattle's "Little Paris"

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Today, I visited a favorite Seattle neighborhood, Madison Valley. The French flavor is so strong there, that locals - and the media - have nicknamed it: "Seattle's Little Paris." 

You may remember the story I wrote about it. I introduced you to some of my favorite places. Some are now gone. Madison Valley, like most places, keeps evolving.

My friend Kelly and I made fun plans this weekend, but she woke up with a bad cold, and we had to cancel our little outing. 

I needed a back-up plan. Should I stay at home and spend more time reviewing for next week's exams? Should I go out in the damp and grey weather for a long walk with the Yellow Dog? Should I go up in the attic and finally drag down the big storage boxes to decorate the house for the Holidays? 

Non. Fugget-about-it. "I deserve a fun break," I thought, "not to mention I need new material for this week's blog post."

Off I went. Across the bridge. Away from suburbia. Back to the city. Ahhhh... Holiday lights. Boutiques. Coffee shops. Actual sidewalks, with actual people strolling... In short: Civilization! 

Of all the French restaurants I love in Seattle (and I am lucky to report the city has a few good ones,) Luc, owned by Chef Thierry Rautureau, holds a special place in my heart. This is the restaurant where I once met for dinner with my French students, and that fun evening inspired the very firststoryI wrote on this blog, three years ago. 


The French Studio group, circa December 2010
A great bunch!

Luc is a popular bistro, but I hoped I could find a table between brunch and dinner service. When I pushed the door after 3:00pm, the place was almost empty. An uncommon sight. 




I even got to choose my table, and sat by the window, so I could watch people in the street. Just like in France!


All good meals start with a pretty, sparkling drink!

The brunch menu was original, and impressive. There were traditional egg-based dishes, with a twist. There were heartier plats (entrees) one would expect to find on a dinner menu; Boeuf Bourguignon; trout amandine; andtraditional bistro fare, like les moules-frites; and grilled beef onglet steak.

Yet, for a French Girl of Pied-Noir ancestry, the homemade merguez sausage proved too hard to resist. It was served with a fried egg, potato-spinach gratin, roasted squash, and some greens. Délicieux ! (The merguez had just enough of a kick to make it stand out.) 

Portions were copious, but the young waiter was so friendly I could not resist ordering a chocolate pot de crème for dessert. It was a feast, and in the middle of the day. 

Pourquoi pas ? On ne vit qu'une fois. You only live once. 



Notice the whipped cream and chocolate sablé cookie...
A decadent dessert, but served French style (i.e. a small portion) 

I enjoyed my meal, under young Chef Rautureau's watchful eyes (the painting was on the wall above my table.)




Thierry Rautureau is known as "the Chef in the Hat," and if you look closely, you can spot said-hat not only on the Chef's head these days, but also on the restaurant sign, and in the painting... That hat (and its owner) have been well-known on the Seattle food scene for many years.




The best part of the afternoon came after the meal. I strolled in the small neighborhood and stopped at a few favorite boutiques to get in the Holiday mood... 

Lavender Heart is a must-see. They specialize in fragrant gifts, like soaps and candles, but you never know what you will discover there. It is the perfect place to find a hostess gift. Best part of the visit: a chat with the friendly owner (Yesterday, we discussed our favorite dishes chez Luc, located on the same street block.) 





A festive atmosphere
Ha!

Two of these Elves' and Pixies' soap bars,
made in Belgium, came home with me!

Another mandatory stop in Madison Valley is my friend Nohra's Inès Pâtisserie. I introduced her and her spectacular confections here





I had not seen Nohra in a long time.  She remains as enthusiastic, direct and independent-minded as always. J'aime bien Nohra. I like her. She tells it like it is. Some customers might be surprised, but her business is thriving. She will be opening a new branch of Inès Pâtisserie in popular Capitol Hill next year. 

When I arrived, Nohra was on her way out, and the display windows almost empty, but there is always time to catch up with "a sister." She sent me home with a delicious almond croissant for Sunday's breakfast, and a scrumptious-looking tarte aux pommes (apple tart) because, she declared: "You've had a rough year, and it is time to have fun again!"



Petit-déjeuner à la française. Merci, Nohra!

There was time for one last stop, and I had to choose carefully. I have not had a chance to really get in the Holiday spirit this year. The fall has been too busy. 

"I want to smell real Christmas trees," I decided. And I knew just the place.





It smelled so good at City People's I almost expected Frosty the snowman to show up and grab Nohra's pastries out of my hand! Cars were lined up on the small parking lot waiting for the staff to wrap up their Christmas trees and load them up. A seasonal scene if there ever was one. 

It's not a great shot of the store sign, but I want you to know I almost got run over by a S.U.V. to take it. Had this happened in Paris, I would have certainly died, but the Seattle driver did not even honk at me.

This "paparazette" is dedicated, you see!

As anticipated, "cute" and "Christmassy" awaited inside City People's garden store. Illustration.


Who does not like owls...
... or little mice...
... or a handmade miniature fox with a backpack?
... or a wise (and elegant) angel?

As I said, cute and Christmassy.

The following journal was neither, but I was très, très tempted, especially when I noticed each page featured Ryan Gosling's face and an enticing message: "Hey girl, tell me all about your day...





But I do not need a Prince Charming for now. I think I am going to have fun being on my own for a while (sorry, Ryan.) 

So off I went, back to suburbia, my favorite car smelling like my old Parisian neighborhood, thanks to Nohra's fragrant pastries. 

There would be time later for a long, long, long walk with the Yellow Dog (because all indulgences come with a price...) There would be time for home decorating, and for more studying.

For now, as I drove across the bridge, I was happy to hum along with Frank Sinatra (courtesy of Junior, a big fan of the Rat Pack...) 





I'll be home for Christmas

I am dreaming tonight of a place I love
Even more than I usually do
And although I know it's a long road back
I promise you

I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams

If only in my dreams



A bientôt.


All photos by French Girl in Seattle
Do not use, reprint or Pin without permission.
-- French Girl in Seattle

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Joyeux Anniversaire, le Blog !

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Cher Blog. Dear Blog.


Three years have gone by since that first story, inspired by a fun evening with my French students. 

Le temps passe. Time flies. 

3 years. 176 posts. Over 535,000 pageviews. Close to 1,000 Followers (my most faithful readers,) here, or on the blog's Facebook page. Many comments - and just as many replies from this French Girl

International friendships, developing over time, and more to come, I hope.

Merci, le Blog

In 2013, I neglected you on occasion. Life caught up with me, and I did not always have the time to research, and write the stories that have become your trademark. But like a true friend, you understood. You stayed by my side, always ready to offer a break; a few hours of escapism, and peace. 

For when I am with you, I forget all that is unpleasant. And I keep coming back for more, every so often, enjoying every minute of the writing process; looking for the perfect photo to illustrate my story. Then I hit the "Publish" button, and in the morning, I discover my readers' comments, with the same enthusiasm I felt three years ago, when we embarked on this adventure. My readers: I am grateful to each and every one of them, and thankful for their support. 

Oui, Joyeux Anniversaire, le Blog !


While visitors' comments provide qualitative feedback, a closer look at Blogger's statistics section confirms what stories have been the most popular; what posts have inspired the most reactions. 

Follow me, my readers, as we revisit stories you may have missed, or forgotten...


Le blog's all time five most popular stories (in pageviews):


If you do not know Mademoiselle Zaz, it is time to look her up. Great voice. Catchy tunes. An electric personality. She made the headlines again this year with a new album and a sold-out tour. 

This may very well be the world's most popular shoe. One of many stories I wrote for the "French Icon series." 

A story inspired by a solo trip a favorite French city, Nice. I have since written several travelogues about Nissa la Bella. 

4. The incredible French waiters(February 26, 2011) 
An oldie, and a goodie. A humorous look at the often-misunderstood French waiter... and valuable travel tips. 

Audrey Hepburn liked it. So did Brigitte Bardot, Marion Cotillard, and the rest of us, when spring returns. Another popular story in the "French Icon series." 


Le Blog's 2013 most popular posts (in pageviews)


If you have been following this blog for a while, you know I love movies. Cinema is my oldest friend. In 2013, more than ever, my favorite movie characters came to the rescue and provided entertainment, strength, and inspiration. In the spring, I was honored to review several new French movies for the Seattle International Film Festival. But my most popular stories were inspired by movie Classics...

Scarlett. Need I say more? 

I moved to this area 19 years ago. It was good to be reminded about the film that started my (and everyone else's) infatuation with Seattle, so long ago.

A new version of the Great Gatsby was released this year, and I loved it! But this post was just an excuse to poke fun at Parisians.


In 2013, my readers also gave the thumbs up to stories about the French way of life. Trying to steer clear of stereotypes, I pointed out trends in French culture that may be surprising to some...


Find out why you do not really need to speak French when visiting my homeland...

It's all about the Am-Ba-Ga (and kale!) in Paris, these days! 


So many new readers found French Girl in Seattle on Facebook this year! They say teenagers have moved on to other social media. Maybe so. The French Girl in Seattle community on Facebook keeps growing, and growing. We started 2013 with fewer than 200 Followers. Today, we have over 640... Build it, and they will come... 

I can't post on the blog every day (mostly because I research my stories and need time to write,) but it is much easier to keep in touch with friends on Facebook. This year, I have enjoyed sharing news, trivia, and photos about la Belle France and the French with all the community members. 


French Girl in Seattle's Facebook page.
Most popular photos:


1. "Le Tout Va Bien"brasserie, Rueil Malmaison, France (posted on September 7, 2013.)
Over 6,000 people saw that photo, *shared* generously by the French Girl in Seattle community. Apparently, everyone enjoys the idea of a restaurant named: "All is well."


(Photo by French Girl in Seattle) 

2. Alcohol... (posted in July 2013.) 
This photo, captured on a walk in Notting Hill last July, reached 2,500 Facebook members. Hmmm... I wonder why...


(Photo by French Girl in Seattle) 

3. "Je porte bonheur" (I am your good luck charm.) 
My readers - many are francophiles - are always interested in learning more about French traditions and holidays. On May 1, I reminded them that my countrymen offer un brin de muguet (Lily of the Valley) to their loved ones to bring them good luck. This post reached over 2,000 Facebook users.


(Author unknown.)

4. Le 14 Juillet (Bastille Day.) 
This photo, taken in Nice, France in July 2012, was a big hit with the French Girl in Seattle community last summer. It reached over 1,800 Facebook users. 


(Photo by French Girl in Seattle) 

5. Food, food, and more [French] food...
Chez French Girl in Seattle, we *love* French food. The next best thing to eating it? Looking at it, of course! Over 1,200 Facebook members saw that photo posted during my European travels last summer.


(photo by French Girl in Seattle) 

It is the Holiday season, and everyone is busy, busy, busy. I hope you are enjoying the time spent with relatives, and friends. 

Yes, the little blog that could has come a long way, and it will continue to entertain you - and me - in 2014. Je croise les doigts. Fingers crossed. 

Please join me in wishing Le Blog a resounding: "Joyeux Anniversaire !" 

To you, mes amis, I wish "Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!" 

Stay tuned in 2014...

A bientôt.


Pike Place Market, December 2013
Le jour... (Day....) 
... la nuit (and night...)
(both photos by French Girl in Seattle) 



All photos unless otherwise noted by French Girl in Seattle
Do not use, reprint, or Pin without Permission.






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2014 begins in my Happy Place...

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(Photo credit: thisoldheartblog.wordpress.com)

Bonjour 2014 ! Bonne année, les amis !

Another year of blogging starts this month...

Junior and I were alone during the second half of the Holidays.
He had to work on a school project for National History Day. 
But we took quality breaks to enjoy the cold, sunny weather.

This weekend, we drove to my favorite local town, Edmonds, WA. 
I have written about itbefore, remember?

Edmonds is my Happy Place. I return often, and this friendly locale always cheers me up.

This time, the budding photographer and I took a long walk on the bluff, 
overlooking the Puget Sound.
It was a perfect day; the weather sunny and crisp (ok, cold!) 

Follow us, let's leave downtown and head for the water. 
That's the WA. Ferry terminal and the mighty Puget Sound 
you see in the distance...




As you get close to the water, there's a peaceful street. 
It is lined with pretty bungalows, some quite old.
There are sidewalks, where locals walk their dogs.




There are benches, where one can rest; 
take in the splendid Northwest views; dream or meditate...



Their name was Lamoureux, and they were in love until the end: Perfect!

Everywhere you look, especially on such a glorious day, endless vistas...
The Olympic Mountains; the Puget Sound; 
the Olympic Peninsula and Whidbey Island in the distance...



Young photographer, shooting away (with a film camera, always!) 

Let's head down to the beach...
Even on such a cold day, we spot a group of divers;
 exploring the renowned Edmonds Underwater Park, a marine preserve and sanctuary...
They are crazy, bless their souls. The Puget Sound must be frigid this time of year!





It is hard to picture the magnificent Edmonds shoreline
 lined with fourteen saw mills, spewing dark smoke into the sky.
But that's the way things were in the late 1800's.
Today, mills have been replaced by promeneurs (walkers;) dogs; 
and the occasional seagull...





It is really too cold. Let's head back into town...
What should we do first? Lunch chez Chanterelle, a local favorite?
A visit to an art gallery or a boutique?
Choices abound. Strolling is always an option.
Everyone walks in Edmonds. This ain't suburbia, you know!


Mural...


Yes, people stroll in Edmonds.
It's *almost* like in Europe.
And talking about Europe, a visit to Edmonds is not complete without...
... a stop at my friend Rick Steves' Travel Center
Junior had never been. He was impressed.
It was quiet chez Rick on Saturday. 
Was there a Seahawks game? I have no idea...
(best time to do fun stuff in Seattle is during Seahawks games, 
when everyone else is glued to their TV sets...) 




At the Travel Center, the atmosphere was relaxed, yet studious...
European travel is serious business, folks!


The Rick Steves library: Almost as cozy as your family room!

We left quietly, trying not too disturb the few "RickNiks" present...

A bientôt, Rick. See you soon, Edmonds.

A bientôt, les amis.





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New Yorkers and Parisians: So different, yet so alike...

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So different, yet so alike
http://parisvsnyc.blogspot.com

Paris. New York. Two of the world's most visited, most exciting cities. 
Paris. New York. Everyone has an opinion about them, even if they have never been.
Parisians. New Yorkers. Everyone has an opinion about them, even if they have never met them.

This week, I saw a funny little video online, "Johnny T's New York City Tourist Tips." 

As a longtime fan of the City that Never Sleeps, I smiled often while watching it. Then I realized that many of Johnny T's travel tips could also apply to Paris, (and to other big cities around the world.) After reading the comments left by readers on nextstopmagazine.com where the video was released last December, I was sure of it.

I can explain, but first, let's watch the 4-minute clip together, shall we? Meet Johnny T, New Yorker. This hilarious puppet will teach you how to be the perfect New York City tourist...




See what I mean? Johnny T, it is obvious, loves his city. And he claims he loves tourists too, hence the travel tips, so everyone gets along. Video (and article) highlights:


1. Johnny T. is a frog, dressed in a red track suit. 

Johnny T.'s Parisian cousin would be a green frog named Jean, and he would wear an Agnès B. grey suit, accessorized with a Pierre Cardin man bag.


2. Johnny T. is passionate about pizza.

He knows all the best pizza joints in New York city, past and present.

Jean knows the best boulangeries in Paris. He would not consider buying his daily baguette and croissants anywhere else.


New York vs. Paris (Vahram Muratyan)

3. Are New Yorkers rude to tourists?

Johnny T. does not think so. He claims they are nice and helpful to out of town visitors. 

In the Comment section, a reader, Bocheball adds that New Yorkers get a bad rap, and that visitors are to blame:

"Tourists ask for directions but rarely say thank you." 

Johnny T's French cousin, Jean, would concur. How many tourists approach Parisians, in the street, or in shops, without bothering to say the magical words first, "Bonjour" and later, "Merci." It is so bad sometimes, that some café owners have posted this price list outside, in an attempt to educate their customers. 


"Price list. Being polite pays off"
(old enamel sign spotted on Ebay.com)


4. Johnny T. is a nice frog, but you can see there is an air of arrogance about him. After all, he lives in the best city in the world. He does not even consider the rest of the country might not agree with him. 

In the Comment section, an argument breaks out between New Yorkers and Floridians, as they try to determine who the slowest drivers are. Later, another heated exchange happens between New Yorkers and Texans about New Yorkers exhibiting poor manners when they meet people.

Jean, the French frog, could relate. When Jean leaves the Seine river or his favorite pond in the Tuileries Gardens and heads to Southern France for his hard-earned 3-week summer vacation, he gets criticized - a lot - by other French frogs he meets outside the capital. "Parisians are the worst drivers!""Poor Parisians, so stressed out!""Look, that guy had to place his beach towel right next to ours when the beach is almost empty. 'Used to crowds. Must be a Parisian!


Summertime: Parisians head South!

5. Johnny T's favorite mantra: "When in New York city, move fast or get out of the way!"

New Yorkers live life in the fast lane. They walk with a purpose. You are a tourist, and you have time. They don't. In fact, Johnny T. adds: "Stay in your hotel between the hours of 4:00 to 6:00pm." -- This way, locals can handle the commute home undisturbed. 

In the Comment section, Lars E. agrees: 

"Don't stop to look around at the top of the subway stairs. 
There are 100 people coming up behind you." 

Jean, the French frog, would add that nothing is worse than being cramped in the Paris Metro by gigantic tourist backpacks (still on their owners' backs,) or by travelers who ignore the cardinal rule: Do not block the doors when they open, or you will be pushed out on the platform without mercy, even if this isn't your stop. 




Parisians trying to get home at rush hour
Tourists and flip-flops do le Metro

6. Johnny T. advises tourists to check out areas outside Manhattan. Forget the classics.  Expand your horizons. There are so many different facets to a great city like New York!

But in the Comment section, Bocheball adds: 

"I'd rather tourists stay penned in Times Square where most of you idiots go and residents avoid like the plague. The smart tourists, the few there are, are mostly European, go to the cool places, and generally act far cooler!"


Uh... Thank you for European tourists... I guess.

Jean the Parisian frog would concur. He, too, would love for tourists to venture out of downtown Paris. After all, this is a compact city, and only 2 million people live in the center. Still, Paris welcomes over 25 million visitors a year! Allez, tourists, step away from la Tour Eiffel, le Louvre, Notre Dame, or les Champs-Elysées...




The Parisian Times Square?
Crowds on the Champs-Elysées

(Nouvelobs.com)

7. I like to end a story on a happy note.

In the Comment section, Sam the Cat writes: 

"Despite the stereotypes, we are actually very fond of tourists
 and are proud to show off our city."

Jean the Parisian frog would agree. Parisians may seem rushed, and aloof, but if you get lost and ask for directions politely (don't forget to say "Bonjour" first,) you will be surprised to see how much time they take to get you back on the right track. They love their city, and want you to love it too.



It's not unusual either to see two Parisians, in full display of Gallic pride, arguing about the best way to help a stranded tourist, which is always very entertaining... 


"Where is the Eiffel Tower?"
"Behind you, ma chère !" 

So whether you visit New York or Paris, keep in mind Johnny T. and his French cousin Jean la Grenouille will be happy to help, should you get in trouble. And if you have the irrepressible urge to drag one of those heavy backpacks around, remember: "Move it, or lose it!," - oh, and stay in your hotel room from 4:00pm to 6:00pm!



Bonne visite ! A bientôt !

Special thanks to talented illustrator Vahram Muratyan who knows, and loves, Paris and New York. Do get his wonderful Paris vs. New Yorkbook if you haven't already.

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Hollywood… You make me smile!

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Emma Thompson, Golden Globes 2014
The "Louboutin-Martini" speech


The Hollywood award season is underway, and it will culminate on Sunday March 2, with the 86th Academy Awards. For us movie fans, it is a fun time of year. 

Some of us get excited about favorite movies; actors and actresses. Others tune in, so they can gawk at designer-clad celebrities, walking down the Red Carpet. 

We watch - and occasionally cringe -  as TV hosts greet famous guests, pouring out of black limousines. 

During the show (it never seems to end on time,) we all yawn at overdrawn speeches; the endless list of "Thank you's;" or the disingenuous declarations: "I did not expect this. I did not prepare a speech…" (You have been nominated. Isn't it part of your job to prepare a speech?)

We watch the prestigious audience laugh nervously at the host's jokes. Some good; some awkward; some plain mean. 

We endure commercial breaks. And long musical numbers. 

We reminisce about Old Hollywood glamour. Grace, and Audrey. Rita. Katharine. Liz. Never mind that we are too young to actually remember the good old days. The well-oiled Hollywood machine has conditioned us for years. These glamorous stars are part of our lives; almost part of the family.

Grace and Audrey, presenters at the 1956 Academy Awards...



But the good old days are gone. Welcome to the time of hyperactive social media and unbridled paparazzi power! Glamour has faded, replaced by gossip; unflattering photos of celebrities on their coffee runs (Can you picture Grace Kelly toting around her tall, non-fat latte in a Starbucks paper cup?) -- There are so many celebrities (famous for being famous,) and so few artists, it seems. So be it. Times change. 

Still, as a long-time movie fan, I am grateful for movie stars, and the stories they tell. I see talent, and on rare occasions, I see grace. I still dream; laugh and cry with them. 

This week, as I browsed online, I spotted a few shots of my favorite actors and actresses. And they made me smile. I hope you enjoy them, as much as I did. 

Long live le cinéma. Long live Hollywood. This French Girl, for one, will keep watching.

Les complices. Accomplices. Meryl Streep. Julia Roberts. And you thought your family was dysfunctional. If you have not seen them (and the rest of the stellar cast) in August: Osage County, you are missing something. Good friends or consummate professionals promoting a movie? Does it matter? 





The Blues Brothers had nothing on these two sisters!

And talking about friends…


Meryl Streep and Emma Thompson

Emma is one talented lady, (Saving Mr Banks, anyone?) and from what I hear, a fun broad. A good mom too.


Emma and "Mini-Me" daughter Gaia


All right. I admit it. Most of my favorite ladies are over 40. or 50. Et alors? So what? 



Sandra, so happy to see you laugh.
Please don't do anything to your beautiful face!

Of course, I do not forget les Boys. How could I ever forget les Boys?

Look at these two handsome fellows. Real men take their moms to Award shows.





I like them just fine too when their moms are not around…


Ben, Ben, Ben… Bradley, Bradley, Bradley...

You clean up nice, Colin F.

Yes, thank you, movie stars. You can walk around holding a Starbucks paper cup; or look sweaty when you leave the gym; wear no make up as you get their groceries. We like to think you are just like us, professionals; friends; lovers; mothers and fathers…



Cate Blanchett and her two leading men
Critics Choice Awards, January 2014


… but the truth is, you are not . You have that little extra something; the ability to inspire and captivate; the power to make us dream. And that is a good thing.

A bientôt. 


I used to think as I looked out on the Hollywood night, 'There must be thousands of girls sitting alone like me dreaming of being a movie star.' But I am not going to worry about them. I'm dreaming the hardest.


-- Marilyn Monroe






23 Things that scare Parisians to death

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mylittleparis.com

This week, a funny list has been making the rounds online, and as luck would have it, it was in French. Dommage

I wanted my readers to be able to enjoy it too, so I have prepared a free translation. You're welcome!

The article is titled: "23 Things that Scare Parisians.Do not miss the original story, here: The illustrations are excellent.


Several remarks come to mind when I look at the list. 

  • Things have not changed that much in Paris since I left, in 1996. 

  • Le Parisien, (the Parisian,) is defined as a person living in "Paris intra-muros," i.e. in downtown Paris, within the border created by le périphérique, (the beltway.) You may live right outside le périphérique. If you do, you are not a true Parisian. You have become un banlieusard, (a commuter, living in suburbia,) and that, to a true Parisian, is only slightly better, than being un provincial (someone living outside the French capital.) 



Paris Intra-Muros (in dark blue on the map,) includes
two parks: Le Bois de Boulogne, and le Bois de Vincennes

  • A large part of Parisian life revolves around the [excellent] public transportation system and le Métro (the subway.) 



... but les Abbesses métro station is nowhere near le Châtelet stop!
MylittleParis.com

Are you ready? Here is my best attempt at a translation... 


23 Things that Scare Parisians
(In Paris, you risk your life every day)

French article with h.i.l.a.r.i.o.u.s. illustrations
 here.


1. Falling down the Metro stairs and dying.

2. Cell phone theft.

3. A strike in the Paris transportation system.

4. Having to act as a tour guide for tourist friends and splitting your day between the Eiffel Tower and Mona Lisa.

5. Getting stuck in a street demonstration.

6. La Bastille square, after a street demonstration (Ed.: Most mass demonstrations end up there, a lively yet horrendous sight.) 

7. Les Grands Boulevards, on a Saturday before Christmas, or during the bi-annual sale season (Ed.: Major Parisian department stores are located near les Grands Boulevards, in the Opéra Garnier neighborhood.) 

8. La rue de Lappe, every evening (Ed.: A small, cobbled street in la Bastille neighborhood,well-known for its nightlife.) 

9. Getting stuck in the subway between two stops for over two minutes with no explanation, and imagining your own painful and inevitable demise. 

10. Walking alone at night in a deserted subway corridor... and disappearing.

11. To be reduced to using one of these one day (Ed.: Photo of a Sanisette, a self-contained, self-cleaning, unisex public toilet in a Paris street.) 

12. Transferring from les Halles métro station to le Châtelet RER stop (Ed.: A logistical nightmare, as these are two of Paris' busiest stations, with mile-long corridors.) 

13. Having the irrepressible urge to use the bathroom while being in the subway.

14. Pigeons inside train stations.

15. Actually, any contact with a pigeon.

16. Having to go to a party on the other bank. 

17. Missing the last subway.

18. ... and having to ride the Noctilien (Ed.: Night bus service for Paris and the suburbs.) 

19. Rats and other disgusting creatures living inside the subway system.

20. Having to ride the RER train (Ed.: Faster, but more intimidating than the Métro, with mile-long corridors.) 

21. Crossing the beltway and heading for the unknown... (Ed.: See my introductory comment about "true Parisians.") 

22. Being pushed on the subway tracks by a lunatic.

23. Paris real estate prices! (Ed.: Photo of a 97 square-foot studio, with a $600 rent.) 



What did you think? Did you like it? I bet New Yorkers could relate to some of these, don't you?

It is time to wrap up, but before I go, I just want to appeal to your better nature. You see, living in Paris involves a lot more than sitting at a café terrace and watching the world go by; nibbling Pierre Hermé macarons; getting Americanized chez McDo or at trendy food trucks. Living in Paris can be stressful. Danger lurks, whether real or imagined. There is no time to smile; or smell the Sanisette... uh... the roses. Living in Paris is serious business, and only true Parisians can put up with that much pressure. The rest of us... amateurs. We can only hope to watch and learn.

A bientôt.


MylittleParis.com







We miss you, l'Abbé Pierre...

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L'Express.fr

I had a fun little story to tell today... It involved the French, the Americans, and swear words. 

As I was about to start writing it, I bumped into a photo taken by blogger Eric Tenin. Eric had decided to honor one of the most popular men who ever lived in France. That man was not a monarch; a president; or even a celebrity; quite the opposite in fact. He was a priest, and a sickly man, who doggedly led a lifelong struggle to help others. Seven years after his death, he remains one of my countrymen's favorite public figures. His is an incredible story. A story of courage, determination, controversy and deep humanity. It is the story of l'Abbé Pierre

Sixty years ago, on February 1, 1954, l'Abbé Pierre famously called for solidarity on Radio Luxembourg, as poor, homeless French people were dying in the streets during a particularly harsh winter. Sixty years later, homelessness and a shortage of safe, affordable housing, are still concerns in France, and in many industrialized nations.

This week, I have decided to publish again the tribute I wrote in December 2011. I hope you enjoy it. 




L'Abbé Pierre: the Reluctant French Icon
December 2011


Today, I would like to tell you the story of a man who embodied Giving. France knows him as "l'Abbé Pierre." His face (the grey hair and beard, the big glasses, the béret,) and silhouette (the long, black cape, the heavy shoes, the cane,) are so familiar to my countrymen that a picture of l'Abbé Pierre hardly needs a caption. During his long life, he remained one of France's most unlikely, and yet most beloved public figures, topping popularity polls year after year, until his death, in January 2007.

La Fresque des Lyonnais (the famous Lyonnais fresco)
 Lyon,  France


L'Abbé Pierre (1912-2007) was born Henri Marie Joseph Grouès, in Lyon, to a well-heeled bourgeois family of eight children. His father had a strong social conscience and introduced Henri to charity work at a very young age. A devout catholic, Henri was determined to become a missionary. He attended a Jesuit school, and later renounced his inheritance to join a Franciscan monastery. He was ordained priest in 1938. Strict monastic life did not agree with him (he was plagued with health issues,) and he eventually left the monastery.

World War II broke out in 1939. He was mobilized as an N.C.O. (Non Commissioned Officer) but contracted pleurisy while training in Alsace. When France fell in 1940, he became vicar of the Grenoble cathedral. Throughout the war, he would take enormous risks to help others; enabling Jews and other politically persecuted to escape to Switzerland; joining the French Résistance where he operated under several code names including the now-famous "Abbé Pierre;" founding a clandestine newspaper; stealing clothing from warehouses for the poor and the Résistance. He was arrested in 1944 but managed to escape and joined General de Gaulleand the Free French Forces in Algiers. He continued fighting and received top French military honors at the end of the war.

A young Abbé Pierre listens to a speech by General de Gaulle in 1946

The war experience would mark him for life: From then on, he engaged himself to protect fundamental human rights and to fight for the causes he believed in. If legal means were not an option, then civil disobedience was all right too. 

He also knew how to use his reputation and growing fame, and his connections to politicians to further his cause, lecturing the formidable General de Gaulle, in January 1945 on the need for milk to feed babies.

Impatient, stubborn, unruly and outspoken, l'Abbé Pierre was soon to become a major influence in French society, an indefatigable fighter who led a life-long crusade against poverty and homelessness. His tactical weapons: Prayer, provocation, charity work and political action. 



After the war, L'Abbé Pierre was convinced to join the French Parliament where he worked as a député (representative,) from 1945 to 1951, but he quickly understood that he would be most efficient fighting misery in the street.

In 1949, using his lawmaker's indemnities after he had left the Parliament, he started a community outside of Paris to help the neediest members of society. He named the center "Emmaus," a town mentioned in the Gospel. His early companions were a motley crew of down-on-their-luck individuals. With them, he came up with the idea of a working community; organizing rag-picking and recycling of household goods to finance the construction of shelters for the homeless, often without construction permits. This was a far cry from traditional charity, as it encouraged the poor to fend for themselves. To those who had nothing, he brought not merely relief, but also purpose and hope. When money ran out, l'Abbé Pierre did not hesitate to take part in a TV game show to raise funds. Celebrities like Charlie Chaplin started supporting the movement as Emmaus grew steadily, first in France (where it is today one the largest NGOs,) then internationally after 1971 with the creation of Emmaus International.


"People are needed to take up the challenge, strong people, who proclaim the truth, throw it in people's faces, 
and do what they can with their own two hands."
-- L'Abbé Pierre.


1954: Laying the first stone of a new Emmaus-sponsored shelter
L'Abbé Pierre and the first Emmaus companions

But it is during the exceptionally cold winter of 1954 that L'Abbé Pierre became a living legend. An indignant Abbé issued a radio appeal on behalf of 5 million homeless people after a baby froze to death, and after a woman died on a Paris boulevard clutching her eviction notice in her frozen hand. In his famous speech, he challenged the French to heed their moral duty. The opening words caught everyone's attention: "My friends, come help... A woman froze to death tonight at 3:00am..." The French - no doubt remembering the privations endured during the war - listened, and donations poured in: Money, blankets, clothing, even jewelry and fur coats! My mother-in-law, a young girl at the time, remembers listening to the radio address with her family and walking down to the nearest temporary shelter with clothing and blankets. 


Throughout his life, l'Abbé Pierre used the power of the media
 to further his cause

The following morning, the press wrote of an "uprising of kindness" (insurrection de la bonté.) Over the next few weeks, donations were sorted out and distributed all over France, often through the emerging network of Emmaus communities where the homeless were given food and shelter. Emmaus volunteers were former homeless people who had learned to depend for survival on their own efforts, reselling refurbished furniture, books and scraps. L'Abbé Pierre was everywhere, delivering rousing speeches; visiting politicians to push for new legislation to forbid landlords from evicting tenants during winter months; holding the hands of women and children while visiting shelters. As a result of his tireless campaigning, the French government finally undertook a large program of housing reconstruction. 



Leaving the Elysée Palace after meeting with the French President (1954)




Years went by. L'Abbé Pierre did not slow down, always prompt to denounce injustice, not only in France but in the rest of the world where he was often seen with international leaders. Even when he turned down the Legion of Honor and other prestigious awards to protest the lack of official efforts towards the poor, he also understood the need to rub shoulders with politicians to get results. 

Always frank and often controversial, he wrote books about various topics, publicly disagreeing with Pope John Paul II on the issues of priest celibacy, the union of gay couples, the use of contraception, or the ordination of women as priests. 

There was controversy. There was media lynching when l'Abbé made unpopular choices, but the French public [a notoriously tough crowd] remained faithful to him. Then came old age, and failing health, and l'Abbé progressively retired out of the public eye. But there was always one more injustice, one more cause worth fighting for. So he would call the media; meet with officials; show up at the French Parliament, where the frail man would speak up from his wheelchair, his voice weak, but his commitment undiminished. At the end of his life, he accepted a few honors -reluctantly- and respectful crowds came to see him.


Finally accepting the prestigious Legion of Honor
awarded by President Chirac in 2001
L'Abbé Pierre meets l'Abbé Pierre in 2005

It was finally time for the man President Chiraccalled: "A great figure, a conscience, an incarnation of goodness," to take his final bow. He died after a long illness, at the age of 94. Statesmen, celebrities, companions of Emmaus and the French public attended his funeral celebrated at Notre-Dame cathedral, on January 26, 2007. L'Abbé's companions were placed at the front of the congregation, according to his last wishes. His iconic béret, cape and cane lay on top of the coffin during the funeral service.


A big funeral for a man who aspired to a simple, monastic life

Henri Grouès - l'Abbé Pierre - rests in a small cemetery in Esteville, a small village north of Rouen, in Normandy. At peace at last, (one would hope,) he is in good company, surrounded by several of his early companions and friends. At his request, his grave is anonymous, but it is easy to find, thanks to all the flowers left by visitors. 

L'Abbé Pierre (1912-2007): French patriot, human being. Led a life of action and service and knew a thing or two about giving.  



Adieu, l'Abbé. On t'aimait bien.
So long, l'Abbé. We liked you.
A bientôt.


Afterword: 

To learn more about l'Abbé Pierre's inspiring life, watch this excellent documentary (2 video clips, about 18 minutes.) It is utterly frustrating, however, as the second part stops around 1949 when Emmaus, the organization founded by l'Abbe Pierre, was taking off. Still, a great look at his early years and his rise to fame.


You may also rent the 1989 movie "Hiver 1954: L'Abbé Pierre" ["Winter 1954: L'Abbé Pierre"] with Lambert Wilson. 


Finally, a full English translation of the 1954 speech can be found here  




Meet Stromae, the new Maestro of Europe's music scene...

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The smile. The voice. The long, lean, androgynous body. The elegant look. The smart, if mournful lyrics, both poetic and realistic, a sharp contrast to the catchy tunes, a blend of rap, hip hop, electronic music and Latin rhythms.  

Meet Stromae the 28-year Belgian-born artist who is taking Europe (and French Canada) by storm. 

Stromae - French slang for "Maestro" - has developed a cult following in most European countries. If the social media is any indicator of success, numbers are impressive: 2.6 million follow his Facebook page. His most popular video to date, Formidable, has received over 43 million hits on Youtube. 

Two albums (Racine Carrée, Square Root, came out last spring.) Awards up the wazoo. His public appearances are greeted with much anticipation. He can discuss his origins, his career, and the issues confronting European youth articulately. He seems surprised, and humbled, by his success, but exudes self-confidence and controls all aspects of his career.

The guy has talent, and smarts. What's not to like?





French friends recommended I checked him out. I liked what I heard. 

His first big hit was Alors on Danse, (Then you Dance,) a song he wrote about a friend going through a tough time. Some of Stromae's favorite themes are in the song: the rat race, divorce, loneliness, hopelessness. Yet, the pace is upbeat, and one can't help watching the short movie... Stromae sold three million copies of the first album. 




Stromae, it turns out, is a trained musician, an accomplished percussionist, a fan of poetry. He studied cinema once, and it shows. He loves acting. All of his video clips play like mini-movies. 

The Guardian nicknamed him: "The Morrissey of the Eurozone," because of his realistic and gloomy lyrics.

The young Belgian Dandy is also compared to one of his homeland's most shining star, the late Jacques Brel, and was recently featured in the New York Times in a flattering piece. Are the United States his next stop? 

The fact that Stromae does not try to imitate other European artists by singing in English, might limit his appeal. Yet I noticed English subtitles in his most popular video, Formidable. Didn't I tell you the kid had smarts?

Formidable happens to be an amazing song, thanks to Stromae's acting skills and creativity. The chorus is a clever play on words:


"Tu es formidable, je suis fort minable..." 
(You are wonderful, I am pathetic) 

(For those of you who study the French language, fort is often used in Belgium and the Northern part of France to translate très - very. Un minable is a loser.) 

The song tells the story of a painful breakup. The guy is drunk and mourns his failed relationship.  

Even if Stromae is acting (he grins at the camera at the end of the clip,) the video was shot with a hidden camera in downtown Brussels on a rainy morning (there are a lot of rainy mornings in Brussels, Belgium...) Passers-by did not know they were being taped. At some point, three policemen approach Stromae (they recognize him,) and offer to give him a ride home. He declines, and they let him go. 

Belgian cops are the most relaxed and understanding police force in the world!

The video clip went viral when leaked online, and the rest is history...






The young artist seems unstoppable. His new album tops European charts. My favorite song: Papa Outai ("Papa où t'es?" - Where are you, Daddy?) He draws on his personal experience to tell the story of a child with an absent father. 

The son of a Belgian mother and a Rwandan father, who later died in the Rwanda genocide, Stromae only met his own dad a few times in his life. The video clip is creative; the tune catchy and no doubt rocking all dance floors in Europe! My favorite line: 


"Tout le monde sait comment on fait des bébés;
Personne ne sait comment on fait des papas."


(Everyone knows how to make babies;
Nobody knows how fathers are made.)


Papa Outay (Stromae) 





This week, to promote his ongoing French tour, Stromae made the headlines, and once again created a big buzz in the media, when he appeared at a popular talk show. Thanks to creative visual effects, he was able to introduce the audience to his "moitié"  (his better half,) in a hilarious skit. They both sparred in front of the audience for a few minutes before he/she launched in an entertaining rendition of "Tous les Mêmes," (They are all the same.) Stromae's carefully cultivated androgynous look and acting skills came in handy. He brought the house down. 



Stromae and his better half (amazing special effects!)


Click here to watch the live performance.
(Song starts at 1:37)



Stromae... or Stromae?

I would love to hear what you think about my new friend. I am adding his new CD to my Christmas list and can't wait to listen to the other songs on the album.

In the meantime, I know Stromae would approve the ending of this post: I will leave you with an iconic live performance by the great Belgian artist Jacques Brel, Amsterdam. 


A bientôt.










A quick Bonjour and a Giveaway...

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Bonjour les amis, 

I have missed you, faithful readers. Thank goodness, many of you are now following French Girl in Seattle on Facebook, where I steal a few minutes each day to post news, photos and observations about la Belle France. I must say I have a lot of fun there, with 820+ francophile friends. Please join us when you can.

This week, we covered French president Hollande's trip to Washington DC. There were a few [unintended] comical moments...


Tall American woman meets short French guy, with tall American guy *supervising*

It was difficult to know what serious topics, if any, the American and the French presidents covered during their meetings. It seems they spent a lot of time exchanging jokes; or pretending they can speak each other's language (they can't.) That is, at least,  what the presidents (the tall one, the short one,) and the media decided to show us.

It does not matter anyway, because it seems that everyone was mostly interested in answering two questions: 

1. What was Michelle Obama going to wear during the event (She passed with flying colors, thanks to designer Caroline Herrera.)  

2. Who was going to sit next to President Hollande who - the horror! - was traveling solo, during the official state dinner. 

Talk show host John Stewartis not in American History books yet, but he should be. He offered an excellent take on the media circus surrounding the French prez' visit to Washington D.C. -- John, you crack me up. You are everything that is good, smart and sane, in today's media. 

Watch the clip here. You won't regret it! (and yes, it is worth putting up with that obnoxious commercial at the beginning.)

But I digress.

The reason I came back here for a short visit has nothing to do with Washington D.C., President Hollande, or Michelle's wardrobe. 

I received a special invitation this week, you see. You may remember I acted as a critic during the 2013 Seattle International Film Festival... As a result of the movie reviews I wrote last spring, and the constant cinematic references in my blog posts, the word is out:  French Girl in Seattle loves movies!

A few days ago, I was contacted by the Seattle Jewish Film Festival




They offered me free tickets to see two new French movies! I would love to watch and review them on the blog, but I have another commitment on March 2. Hint: This has to do with the 86th Academy Awards(movies, always movies...) 

My loss. Your gain. 

We are having a GiveawaychezFrench Girl in Seattle this week. If you live in the Seattle area, and are interested in seeing one of these shows, leave a comment here, or on the blog's Facebook page. Bonne chance!

Here is our selection:

  • The Jewish Cardinal (Le Métis de Dieu,) by Duran Cohen; the real-life story of Cardinal Jean-Marie Lustiger. The movie has raked multiple Awards at independent film festivals over the world. Read an excellent review and watch the trailer here.
Sunday March 2, 2014
AMC Pacific Place, Seattle, WA.
Time: 5:00pm
Two free tickets.






  • Friends from France (Les Interdits,) by Anne Weil and Philippe Kotlarski; two French cousins cross the Iron Curtain and travel to Russia in the 1980s to support Jewish dissidents. Road movie? Love story? Political film? See it to find out. Read a review here

Sunday March 2, 2014
AMC Pacific Place, Seattle, WA.
Time: 8:30pm
Two free tickets.





Send a message if you are interested. Until next time, thank you for reading. 

A bientôt.







French Girl returns and makes a few changes

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Note to my readers:  This post is bilingual.  Scroll down for the French version.
Note à mes lecteurs: Ce billet est bilingue. La version française suit la version anglaise.


I am back.

It has been over three months since I wrote my last story on the blog. 

I have thought about returning often. The more I waited, the harder it became. Did I have to comment on my absence? After all, so much had happened over the last eighteen months, but I had been able to keep writing, however infrequently. Then, at the beginning of the year, life caught up with me. I just could not invest the time it takes to write a well-crafted story anymore. So I stopped writing, or reading other blogs, and I missed it. 

For those of you who stayed in touch on the blog's Facebook page, French Girl in Seattle, thank you. For those of you who sent me private messages to ask if I was ok, thank you, too. 

I am ok. To sum up the last eighteen months: 




I will make a long story [fairly] short. 

This past year saw the ending of a 23-year relationship, friendship, and marriage. Not an unusual story. Cue in anger, frustration, blame, irrational behavior. Cue in bad faith, inelegance, and sordid financial negotiations. A roller coaster ride. 

The main victim: An incredible, smart, yet challenging and often hormonal teenage boy, who never asked for any of this. 

Our new normal started almost eighteen months ago. Junior is doing fine. I am doing fine. We have created a new life, as a team, and have been preparing for our new home, an apartment a few minutes away from our old neighborhood. The fourteen-year old gets to keep his school and his friends, as he requested when we gave him the bad news last year. I dreamed of moving on, but will have to wait a while. That was the right thing to do. For now, this is the plan. New life. New furniture. New chapter in a brand-new book.

Through it all, I kept blogging. Pure escapism for me. The blog felt like an old friend, who stuck with me through the difficult and unhappy years. The recognition and friendship I received made me feel good about myself. Alas, at the beginning of the year, I had to start working on the house to get it ready for the market. A logistical nightmare that took over my life... and my brain.

This French Girl is a determined, organized, and resilient woman. Her project management skills from a previous life kicked in. I did it alone, with occasional help from Junior and one of his friends (So heartwarming to see skilled and chivalrous teenage boys rally up when a woman is in trouble!) I cleaned a three-thousand square foot home; sorted; emptied an attic; hired contractors; supervised work; donated things; sold things; dumped years' worth of things, for days, weeks, and even weekends. The house sold in two days. Mission accomplished, French Girl

Today, as Junior and I prepare to lock up the family home's door for the last time, and move into our new environment, I would just like to focus on the good, the positive, the achievements; and start making plans for the future. I would just like to pat myself on the back, and acknowledge a few people (Don't worry: No Academy Awards' worthy speeches here.) 

The late Maya Angelou once said: "Try to be a rainbow in someone else's cloud.

I would like to thank all my friends, for being my personal rainbows over the last eighteen months. I have writtenabout you often on the blog.  You know who you are. It takes a village, and mine is a pretty great one!

My incredible Mediterranean family, who managed, eight thousand miles away, with a nine-hour time difference, to comfort me and cheer me on. Never underestimate the power of a phone call, or a care package, bringing French movies, a bag of Fraises Tagada, and the latest issue of the French Elle



My parents and Junior (2) in Spain...
French Girl, 10, her brother, 9, and their first cat.
(Lambersart, Northern France)

Finally, I always look at the women in my family for strength and inspiration. Some have gone through a lot worse than a puny divorce.



Henriette and her clan, somewhere in Southern France.
(We miss you, Chantal !) 

Looking ahead, one thing is obvious: I am going to enjoy being single for a while.


Amen!

I am fifty-one years old, and I have to start a new career, and a new life. This is both daunting and exciting. I can choose where I want to go. I fought hard to earn the financial freedom to start making my own decisions once again. 

When I was not busy raising a teenager; teaching; or working on the house, I found the time to apply for a graduate teacher training program at Seattle Pacific University, a four-month process. By March, the school offered me to join their one-year intensive internship program. I investigated job opportunities for French language teachers; took a closer look at the cost of the program; and decided to turn them down. After fifteen years working as a freelance French teacher in the Seattle area, I am moving on.

My new path is the travel industry, a field I got to know with American Express France (This French Girl feels passionately about travel, as my readers know.) This fall, I will be returning to school to prepare a one-year certification for travel professionals. Where I will go from there is still open for debate. I am planning to offer my popular France travel workshops online soon. There will be a new website, maybe even a new blog; and I would not mind competing with Rick Steves with my own, private customized tours to la Belle France one day soon. 

First, let's get this show on the road, and move into our new digs. Then, time for fun and travel... in Europe, bien sûr. How I have longed for that summer trip!

It is time to wrap up, in more ways than one. This French Girl is looking ahead, seriously, with intent, like the young girl she once was. 


French Girl (2,) her young brother, and Mom
Southwestern France


To quote the great Maya Angelou, once again:

"My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; 
and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor and some style."


Or, as my girlfriends put it in my last birthday card:

Attitude is everything!



I could not agree more...



"French Girl: Northwest Style with Chanel make-up"
(at a Divo concert)


Thank you for reading. A bientôt. And this time, I really mean it!



All private photos belong to French Girl in Seattle.
Do not use, or Pin without permission.
Thank you.

Version française




Me revoilà.

Cela fait trois mois que j'ai écrit mon dernier billet sur le blog.

J'ai pensé revenir souvent. Plus le temps passait, plus c'est devenu difficile. Fallait-il que j'explique mon absence ? Après tout, tant de choses sont arrivées depuis dix-huit mois, mais j'avais continué à écrire, même de temps en temps. Au début de l'année, je n'ai plus réussi à investir le temps nécessaire à la préparation d'un bon billet. Alors j'ai arrêté d'écrire, ou de lire d'autres blogs, et ça m'a manqué.

Pour ceux d'entre vous qui sont restés en contact sur la page Facebook du blog, French Girl in Seattle, merci. Pour ceux qui ont pris des nouvelles dans des messages privés, merci aussi.

Je vais bien. Pour résumer les derniers dix-huit mois:


Mariée 
Célibataire !

Je viens raconter ici dans les grandes lignes une histoire un peu longue.

L'année qui vient de s'écouler a marqué la fin d'une relation de 23 ans, d'une amitié et d'un mariage. Ce n'est pas une histoire inhabituelle. Envoyez la colère, la frustration, le blâme, et les comportements irrationnels. Envoyez la mauvaise foi, l'inélégance, et les sordides négociations financières. Un vrai tourbillon !

La principale victime: un ado incroyable, intelligent, mais difficile parfois, et hormonal,  souvent, qui n'avait rien demandé.

Notre nouvelle norme a commencé il y a dix-huit mois. Junior va bien. Je vais bien. Nous avons créé une nouvelle vie, une équipe, et sommes en train de nous préparer pour notre nouvelle maison, un appartement à quelques minutes à peine de notre ancien quartier. L'ado gardera son école et ses amis, comme il nous l'a demandé en apprenant la mauvaise nouvelle l'an dernier. Moi, je rêvais de changer de décor, mais il faudra que j'attende encore un peu. C'était la seule chose à faire. Pour le moment, voilà le plan. Nouvelle vie. Nouveaux meubles. Nouveau chapitre dans un livre tout neuf. 

A travers tout ça, j'ai continué à écrire sur le blog. Une bonne façon de m'évader. Le blog, c'est comme un vieux copain, qui m'a aidé pendant les années difficiles. La reconnaissance et les amis qu'il m'a apportés, me faisaient du bien au moral et à l'égo. Hélas, au début de l'année, j'ai du commencé à préparer la maison avant de la mettre en vente. Un cauchemar logistique qui envahi ma vie... et ma tête. 

Cette French Girl est déterminée, organisée, et solide. Les compétences en gestion de projet, acquises dans une ancienne vie, sont toujours là. J'ai tout fait seule, avec l'aide occasionnelle de Junior et d'un de ses amis. (C'est si rassurant de voir des jeunes compétents et chevaleresques voler au secours d'une femme en difficulté !) J'ai nettoyé une maison de 280 mètres carrés; trié; vidé un grenier; engagé des artisans; supervisé leur travail; fait des dons à des organisations locales; vendu; jeté des kilos d'objets, pendant des jours, des semaines et même des weekends entiers. La maison s'est vendue en deux jours. Mission accomplie, French Girl !

Aujourd'hui, tandis que Junior et moi nous préparons à fermer la porte de la maison de famille pour la dernière fois, et à emménager dans notre nouveau cadre, je veux voir le côté positif des choses, les réussites, et commencer à faire des projets d'avenir. Je voudrais aussi me donner une accolade et remercier quelques personnes (Ne vous inquiétez pas: Il n'y aura pas de discours à rallonge comme aux Césars.) 

La regrettée Maya Angelou a dit: "Essaie d'être l'arc-en-ciel dans le nuage noir de quelqu'un.

Merci à tous mes amis, d'avoir été mes arc-en-ciel personnels pendant les dix-huit derniers mois. J'ai souvent parlé de vous sur le blog. Vous savez qui vous êtes. C'est vrai "qu'il faut tout un village," et le mien n'est pas mal du tout. 

Merci à mon incroyable famille méditerranéenne, qui a réussi, à plus de 10.000 kilomètres de distance, avec neuf heures de décalage horaire, à me réconforter et à m'encourager. Ne sous-estimez jamais le pouvoir d'un coup de téléphone, ou d'un paquet qui renferme des films français, un sac de Fraises Tagada, ou le dernier numéro de Elle



My parents and Junior, 2 ans, in Spain


French Girl, 10 ans, son frère, 9 ans, et leur premier chat
(Lambersart, nord de la France)


Pour finir, je suis toujours réconfortée et inspirée par l'exemple des femmes de ma famille. Certaines on traversé bien pire qu'un tout petit divorce.



Henriette et "son clan" quelque part dans le Sud-Ouest
(Tu nous manques, Chantal !) 


Alors que je me tourne vers l'avenir, une chose est sûre: Je vais apprécier d'être  à nouveau célibataire. 



"C'était super,  mais je pense que
je vais recommencer à faire exactement ce dont j'ai envie."

J'ai cinquante-et-un ans, et je démarre une nouvelle carrière, et une nouvelle vie. C'est à la fois intimidant et excitant. Je peux choisir mon chemin. J'ai bataillé dur pour obtenir la liberté financière de recommencer à prendre mes propres décisions.

Quand je n'étais pas occupée à élever un ado, à enseigner, ou à travailler sur la maison, j'ai trouvé le temps de préparer un dossier de candidature à un Master de formation des professeurs, proposé par Seattle Pacific University, un processus de quatre mois.  En mars dernier, ils ont accepté ma candidature. J'ai fait des recherches sur les opportunités d'emploi pour les professeurs de français. J'ai regardé de près le coût du programme, pour finalement refuser la place qui m'était offerte. Après quinze ans passés à enseigner le français en freelance, je change de voie.

Mon avenir est dans l'industrie du tourisme, que j'ai côtoyée chez American Express France (cette French Girl est passionnée par les voyages, comme le savent tous mes lecteurs.) A l'automne, je retourne en classe pour préparer une certification professionnelle d'un an dans le tourisme. Où j'irai ensuite, reste à définir. J'ai l'intention de proposer en ligne mes séminaires de voyage en France. Il y aura un nouveau site Internet, peut-être même un nouveau blog. Et il ne me déplairait pas de faire de la concurrence à Rick Steves (NDLR: spécialiste américain des voyages en Europe) avec mes propres voyages organisés dans quelque temps. 

Mais d'abord, en piste. Emménageons chez nous. Ensuite, prenons un peu de temps pour nous amuser et voyager... en Europe, bien sûr. Comme je les ai attendues, ces vacances d'été !

C'est le moment de boucler, et sur tous les plans. Cette French Girl regarde vers l'avenir, sérieusement, concentrée, comme la petite fille qu'elle était jadis.



Une French Girl, 2 ans, son frère, et sa maman
(quelque part dans le Sud-Ouest)

Pour citer à nouveau la grande Maya Angelou:


"Ma mission dans la vie, n'est pas que de survivre, mais de prospérer: 
et de le faire avec de la passion, de la compassion, de l'humour et du style."

Ou, comme mes amies me l'ont écrit dans ma carte d'anniversaire:


"Tout est une question d'attitude !"




Je suis entièrement d'accord.



"Une French Girl: Style Grand-Ouest américain, avec maquillage Chanel."


Merci de m'avoir lue aujourd'hui. A bientôt (et cette fois, c'est sûr !)





  

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10 reasons why Paris is worth another visit (Summer 2014 Travelogue - Part 1)

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In June, Junior and I went to France. This year, like every single year since I moved to Seattle in 1996, I went back to Paris where I lived for 10 years before I became a French expat in the United States. Even if I am not a Parisian, this is the French city I know the most intimately. As soon as I land at Charles de Gaulle airport, everything starts feeling familiar. The ads on the billboards by the baggage carrousel may be different every time. The Information counter may have changed places. I switch airlines like I trade scarves during the week. No matter. Everything feels familiar. This is France. This is home. And as we ride in my parents' car, blurry-eyed, jet-lagged, familiar sights zoom past the window. Majestic Concorde, grounded and on display for all eternity, looks like she might decide to break the rules, and like in the old days, dazzle us all as she soars into the sky. Stressed drivers, honking, impatiently switching lanes on the busy freeway, because that is what you do if you live in Paris. The depressing high rises lining the northern suburbs, remnants of the Parisian urban landscape in the 1960s and 1970s. Not an Eiffel Tower in sight, nor a bistro, or a café terrace. I always have a thought for first time visitors: This will be their introduction to Paris, and la Belle France. Do they worry, or are they too tired to notice or to care, relieved to be out of their airplane seat, safely ensconced (they hope) in the back of a taxi or an Air France shuttle en route to the city center? 

Not to worry, Paris will work her magic later. There will be time to tick things off buckets lists, for the first-time visitor, the more seasoned traveler, or the expat returning home for a short vacation. 

Bucket list. I still have one when I return to Paris, even after all these years. Throughout the year, from my corner of American suburbia, I read about new trends in the French capital; a new restaurant; a new food fad. Parisians *love* burgers, did you know? And they *love* food trucks too. Who would have thought? Eating and standing, in the street? Mais oui. And it is finally possible to drink good coffee in Paris, not that disgusting brew most cafés have been serving since... forever. So I dutifully highlight areas of interest in my trusted Plan de Paris par arrondissement, and I start planning my walks. 





If I believe the international media, the demise of Paris is underway, her traditions are disappearing, eroded by globalization. Paris, c'est Brooklyn, you know. 

For a second, as we drive back to my parents' familiar place, I worry: Will I still recognize you, Paris? Will I still like you? 

Les amis, good news. I am happy to report Paris is still Paris. I took a lot of photos, and I can't share them all here. For those of you who followed my travels on the French Girl in Seattle Facebook page, thank you. I am always in good company. For those of you who don't use Facebook, voilà my travel journal. Bullet point style. 


10 reasons why Paris is worth another visit
by French Girl in Seattle


1. Grandiose sights: La Tour Eiffel.

It doesn't matter if you have already gone up the Eiffel Tower. It doesn't matter if you hate crowds. You are not a Parisian: You can't be blasé about it. It is the Eiffel Tower! You should at the very least walk past once, and marvel at the incredible engineering prowess, the once-controversial structure the Parisians worked so hard to tear down. Parisians can be wrong. Gustave Eiffel was a genius, and he did not deserve to be outshone by his most famous invention. Travel tip warning: You did not make a reservation? You can't bear to stand in line for hours? Man-up and walk up the stairs to the second floor. It is surprisingly manageable and will take less than 30 minutes. No lines. A fraction of the cost. And it is so incredible to do it the way Eiffel and his crew did it every single day between 1887 and 1889. 


My nephew, age 8, so proud he is on his way to the second floor!
From the Trocadero gardens, water canons blasting! 

2. Parisian cafés. Cafés terraces.

I am not referring to the new coffee shops I mentioned in the introduction. I am talking about the traditional Parisian cafés, imitated the world over, never duplicated. The ones with the iconic rattan Gatti chairs; zinc countertops; terraces swarming with smokers. Yes, cafés are expensive. Welcome to Paris. Yes, Parisian waiters can be rough around the edges. But when they are good, they are very good. Des pros. Professionals. I did not think I would miss waiters when I moved away from Paris 19 years ago, but I do. It is not a real trip to Paris and France, if you have not sat down at a café terrace for at least an hour and watched the world go by...





3. The food. The wine.

You did not have a single good meal in Paris? What were you thinking, ordering food Place du Tertre, or stepping into a restaurant showcasing a menu translated into 10 languages? The New York Times wrote a story about Parisian restaurants serving frozen, reheated food? I know. It is possible I was served frozen, reheated food during this trip. Maybe I was lucky. Most of my meals were simple, affordable, and ordered in out-of-the way places. I have no complaints. Do you research; use common sense, and you shall be rewarded. As for the wine, I am no connoisseur, so for me "un pichet" (carafe) - usually a tasty local wine - makes my day... or a glass of rosé de Provence. Wine is the best-kept secret in France, the one good deal you will get (in spite of the atrocious exchange rates.) Look at the price of wine bottles at the local supermarket. You will not believe your eyes, and when returning stateside, will resent American wine price tags - as I do. 



oldies but goodies: Entrecôte-frites, sauce au  poivre
Oeuf-coque (soft-boiled egg,) "mouillettes" (toast,) crudités

4. Boulangeries and Pâtisseries. 

They deserve their own category. Baguette. Croissant au beurreMillefeuille. Eclair. Need I say more?



Chez Sébastien Gaudard, 10th arrondissement.

5. Shopping.

You do not need to visit Paris' designer boutiques to have fun. That is what "le lèche-vitrine," (window-licking) was invented for. On a budget? A visit to the indispensable Monoprix chain can be a lot of fun. But if labels are what are you looking for, then Paris has them all. Time to splurge.



Colorful window display at Antoine et Lili (10th arr.)

6. Iconic Paris. 

If you are looking for Parisian classics, you will find them. They are all around you. You never knew clichés could look so good. Postcard-perfect Paris... 



Neighborhood newsstand, Left Bank

Fermob chairs at the Luxembourg gardens... and grey skies

7. Charming Paris.

Paris can be grandiose, magnificent. Paris also knows how to turn on the charm. She is best explored on foot. She surprises. She seduces. She inspires. You will catch yourself looking more intently at your surroundings. Papa Hemingway was right: Paris will stay with you wherever you go.


Musée de la Vie Romantique

Canal St Martin

8. Paris is smart. 

If culture is what you are looking for, culture you will get. Independent bookstores at every street corner (take that, globalization!) Museums. Monuments. Exhibits. You can't visit Paris and not see at least one exhibit. Two popular "expos" (exhibits) this summer, include August 1944: The Liberation of Paris, (Musée Carnavalet) and Paris and the 1900 World Fair (Petit Palais.) Travel tip: Reserve well in advance.



Paris and the 1900 World Fair,  Petit Palais. 

"L'Arbre du Voyageur" (the Traveler's Tree,) 
bookstore, rue Mouffetard, Left Bank.

9. Paris has a top-notch transportation system.

Buses. Trains. High speed trains. You take them for granted until you don't have them anymore. Dear Métro: You get packed. You get hot. You stink. But damn, you are good. Some things don't change. Favorite station (it is outdoors and so pretty on a sunny day:) Corvisart, line 6.  Favorite line (it is fully automated, and so fast:) Line 14.


Station Corvisart, 13th arr.


Line 14: Fastest way from A to B

10. Les Parisiens.

Quoi? You include les Parisiens in the 10 reasons why Paris is worth another visit list? Don't you know who you are dealing with? They are stressed. Arrogant. They do not like tourists. They never smile. They despise the rest of France. Waiters are the worst. In fact, Paris would be a wonderful city... without the Parisians. 

I beg to differ. Paris would not be Paris without les Parisiens. They are not perfect. They are not as bad as the legend claims either. Many can be helpful, and even charming when approached the right way. They live in a big, crazy city they love to hate. I used to be one of them. Now, as a tourist, I enjoy watching how they debunk stereotypes, one at a time... They are their own people, les Parisiens. Take them, or leave them. 




"Parisian women never wear jeans. Parisian women never wear tennis shoes..."

Two girlfriends, enjoying good food and conversation

Parisians at play: Enjoying her city, and a good book


A bientôt.



All photos by French Girl in Seattle
Do not use, repost or Pin without permission.

Thank you.







Living la Vie en Rose in Toulouse, France (Summer 2014 travelogue - Part 2)

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Le Capitole, Toulouse


Je viens du sud. I come from the South. This summer, after a tumultuous and stressful year, I went back where everything started, to my hometown, Toulouse, or as it is known all over France, "la Ville Rose,"the Pink City, because of its magnificent red brick buildings. 

The 4th largest city in France, with the third largest student population, Toulouse is young, vibrant, and dynamic: A European hub for the aerospace industry, it is host to many companies' headquarters, including Airbus industries, the Galileo positioning system, the Spot satellite system, Intel, and more. 

But there are other reasons why I so enjoyed my hometown after all these years. And I believe they are the same reasons you would enjoy visiting Toulouse, too.

1. Toulouse is eminently walkable - and bikeable; her protected historical center compact, with many pedestrian-only streets. A stroller's paradise.

Even on a busy Saturday afternoon, crowds remain manageable. One never feels cramped here. People visit museums casually, without the endless lines and chaos found this time of year in other places in France, and Europe. Toulouse, as a true Southern Belle, marches (strolls?) to the sound of her own drum. 




Place de la Bourse

2: Toulouse is a feast for the eyes. 

The architecture is spectacular, from old medieval buildings, to the massive and elegant private mansions built in the 16th century by affluent local merchants. And everywhere you look, pink bricks. Toulouse lives "la Vie en Rose," 365 days a year. 




Hôtel d'Assezat - Fondation Bemberg
Moving can be a perilous affair!

3: Toulouse is unmistakably Southern.

Ancient platanes (plane trees,) line her streets, squares, and waterways, providing dappled shade in the summer heat. Pastel blue wood shutters adorn most façades, and keep homes cool. Toulouse skies come in many shades of blue: C'est le sud. This is the South. 



The Canal du Midi, a civil engineering masterpiece, was built in the 17th century
and links the Mediterranean and the Atlantic
Somewhere on Toulouse's Left Bank.
Friends meet Place Wilson

4: Toulouse has world-class museums and two Unesco World Heritage sites.

In this city, art, history and culture are part of daily life. So many churches, cathedrals, and basilicas; testimonies of a deeply religious past. A long time ago, pilgrims on their way to Santiago de Compostela stopped and prayed in Toulouse's iconic Saint-Sernainbasilica, the largest romanesque church in Europe (11th century.) At les Augustins, a 14th century monastery complete with a church and spectacular cloister, was turned into the local Museum of Fine Arts, and boasts prized collections from European masters. 



St Sernain basilica, and its unique octogonal church tower
Les Augustins: A cloister... and lounge chairs. 
Inside les Augustins: Paintings from European masters (15th through 19th century)
Les Augustins: Special exhibit by artist Jorge Pardo showcasing
the museum's prized romanesque capitals collection
My personal favorite: A unique display of medieval gargoyles... standing vertically for once.

5. A river runs through it. 

All great cities are surrounded by water. Toulouse is no exception. The Canal du midi (pictured above,) is a local landmark. But her most famous waterway is the mighty Garonne river. Her most renowned bridge, le Pont Neuf (built 1544-1626) is also her oldest. It has survived all of the Garonne's destructive floods. On sunny days, les quais (the river banks) attract Toulousains and visitors, a delightful place to enjoy the city.



Le Pont Neuf


6. Toulouse has fantastic food.

This is Southwestern France, where duck reigns supreme. Visitors and locals sample Cassoulet, the hearty meat-studded specialty (it originated in the neighboring town of Castelnaudary,) or magret de canard (duck breast cooked in wine sauce and served with sauteed potatoes.) Fresh produce abounds at local markets. Boulangeries and pâtisseries display their tempting wares (this is France, after all.) 




Magret de canard
Marché des Carmes



7. Toulouse has great shopping. 

Toulouse is not picky: From designer brands to international chain stores; from chi-chi boutiques to cheaper apparel stores, she has it all. My favorite boutiques remain what they have always been: fleuristes (florists) and papeteries (stationery stores.) 


"Vert-Rose" (Green-Pink)
How perfect for the "Pink City..."
"Mes Aïeux" (My Ancestors) specializes in old postcards.
I had a blast there!

8. Les Toulousains.

The people of Toulouse. My people, still. I delighted in listening to their Southern accent, often elected "France's most charming accent," in national polls.

I enjoyed chatting with them in boutiques, and at restaurants. Unlike Parisians, they smile in the subway and start conversations with strangers. You might say they are more relaxed, and why shouldn't they be? They live in a beautiful city that has not yet suffered the impact of mass tourism. The French are in on the secret, however: Toulouse is the country's fastest growing city. 

As I watched les Toulousains for a few days, I can understand why. They know how to enjoy life, their city, and the fabulous restaurants. Many French people do, but there is something special in the air, here. Something irresistible. I will be back, Toulouse




Somewhere in les Carmes neighborhood 
Brasseries,  Place du Capitole


A bientôt.



A French Girl goes home
Toulouse, July 2014


All photos by French Girl in Seattle.
Do not reprint, Pin or copy without permission.
Thank you.

Travel information: 

Toulouse is easily accessible by air (Blagnac airport,) or by TGV (high speed train,) a 5.5 hour train ride from Paris (Gare Toulouse Matabiau.) 
The city has an excellent public transportation system: Buses, a modern subway, and a tramway. There is a free bike rental system (Vélo Toulouse.)
Mediterranean beaches are less than 2 hours away. There is great skiing in the Pyrenees south of Toulouse, less than 2 hours away. 
The Toulouse Tourist office is here.

Paris, that village... (Summer 2014 Travelogue - Part 3)

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Paris is a bustling, crazy city.
Visitors often complain about the large crowds;
Nobody has gotten lost in la Joconde's smile (Mona Lisa) since the 1960s;
La Vieille Dame (the Eiffel Tower) will keep you waiting, and waiting;
Les Champs-Elysées look like a cosmopolitan ant world, day and night;
Notre-Dame only gets quiet if you climb her towers, looking for Quasimodo.

Paris is a city of villages. 
Former villages; now neighborhoods;
Each with a distinct flavor.
Venture out of the beaten path, visitor;
You shall be rewarded. 

Somewhere on the Left Bank, a special place hides. 
It is known as la Butte aux Cailles (Quail Hill.) 





Once a working-class neighborhood, it sat by the Bièvre river.
Today, the river still meets the Seine, but it runs underground.
On the shores of la Bièvre
there were tanneries, windmills, and limestone quarries.
The ground became so unstable it could not carry the weight of heavy construction.
That is why la Butte aux Cailles still looks like a village.
Private homes, tucked away from the street behind green metal gates.
Peaceful streets, sleeping in the summer sun.



Villa Daviel
A friendly local...

During la Commune, a violent civil insurrection in 1871, 
People in La Butte aux Cailles fought long and hard. 
Memories of the uprising linger on la Place de la Commune de Paris.





The only signs of rebellion today are tags and graffiti. 
In la Butte aux Cailles, they call this street art. 








There is a small square, la place Paul Verlaine
In the center, the fountain's water supply comes from
an old artesian well, sourced by natural spring water.



The fountain was closed when I stopped by in early July... Dommage.

Place Paul Verlaine, there is a swimming pool, inaugurated in the 1920s;
One of Paris' three public swimming pools at the time. 
Red brick façade. Art Nouveau style. Water pumped from the artesian well;
Kept at a comfortable 28 degrees Celsius (82 F) year round.
The old public baths are still there too.




The three pools (one indoors, two outdoors) were renovated and re-opened a few weeks ago
(Commons - Wikimedia) 

These days, nobody goes starving in la Butte aux Cailles.
This is Paris, after all. 
Visitors can sit in a wine bar; eat a crêpe, or sample traditional cuisine. 
At night, locals, artists and hipsters mingle.
The old neighborhood wakes up with the sound of animated conversations;
Tables and chairs crowd the sidewalks.



Loved my lunch atL'Oisive-Thé
restaurant; knitting and crochet club. 
La Butte aux Piafs (Piaf = small bird) 

In Paris, you get the visit you deserve. 
Mine always include a stroll in a favorite "village." 
And as villages go, la Butte aux Cailles is as authentic and special as any.





This is your lucky day. 
How about a stroll there, right here, right now?
The greatInès de la Fressange is more than a style icon.
She embodies the ultimate Parisienne.
Les Parisiennes know their city, and Inès has many scoops on Paris.
Follow her in this entertaining video clip, as she takes us to her favorite boutiques
in Paris'la Butte aux Cailles neighborhood. 
(Note: Isn't it great to see that even a fashion icon can be a total klutz?) 

Bonne visite et à bientôt. 






To visit la Butte aux Cailles:

Metro Line 6 
Station: Corvisart
Walk up la rue des 5 DIamants (street of the five diamonds)
until it meets la rue de la Butte aux Cailles. 
You have arrived. Explore. Relax. 



All photos unless otherwise noted by French Girl in Seattle.
Please do not reprint, use or Pin without Permission.
Thank you.
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