Touristes au Cabaret Lido
Le lundi 11 juin
The rain visited Paris for the next few days, which set a nice ambience but also limited the options Claire and I had to tour around town.
We decided to have a late breakfast at an organic bagel sandwich shop with fresh pressed juice. Everything was delicious until, I kid you not, Claire opened her bagel sandwich to show me a live tiny slug slithering through her arugula. Both of our jaws dropped and I wondered for a moment if a live snail was part of the cuisine culture in France? A sign of good luck? Ehhh...I think not.
I showed the woman behind the sandwich counter. She gasped, said she would make another, and brought us a new sandwich with the amount it cost. Thank you, kind lady! We are not upset - we know l’escargot vivant was probably living in the fresh arugula you picked from your terrace garden, and for that we cannot fault you. But it sure makes one heck of a story!
With the rain falling steadily, we decided to catch a movie at a French movie theater. I warned Claire that I didn’t think there would be English subtitles. She shrugged and said it was fine. We chose Volontaire about a female French national navy enrollee, Laure, who has to persevere in the boot camp amongst her male peers. It was entertaining. I think Claire caught up on her jet lag sleep during most of the movie.
After, we decided to head in the direction of les Jardins des Tuileries, where we saw la Place de la Concorde, the spot where many prominent French Revolution players lost their heads, including Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Les Jardins des Tuileries is also where Louis XVI and his family were brought and held against their will as Louis and Marie-Antoinette awaited their trial for treason when they tried to escape France. The gardens were created by Catherine Medici, and in the gardens facing the Place de la Concorde, there are several orange trees that line the walkway. This is how we found ourselves au Musée de l’orangerie.
Musée de l’orangerie is where Claude Monet’s most famous water lily murals are located. There are also many other impressionist works of art. I was interested in the female artists’ work, as you don’t hear of many female painters before the late 20th century. I was struck by the work of Marie Laurenceau and actually found an image of Mademoiselle Coco Chanel with a little dog that became my favorite. I also saw work by Douanier-Rousseau, Manet, Picasso, and Renoir while there. Sadly, the gift shop was closed as we headed out. I should mention that Claire was admitted to the museum at a discount for being 26 years of age or under, a policy adhered to by the national musées of Paris.
We headed back to our apartment for a late afternoon nap, the rain promising to be back. Our neighborhood is a quiet, quirky area with an amazing boulangerie across the way. Twice, we purchased the olive-filled baguette, tearing off pieces before even entering the apartment. There are other shops that line the street as well. I love teaching my students about the different stores in France, such as the boulangeries, patisseries, fromageries, laveries, cordonneries, boucheries, etc. Here is a photo I snapped of these little stores along the way:
After our nap, we weren’t sure what to do. It was late and pouring down rain. It wasn’t a good idea to go dancing, and we weren’t really hungry yet. Un cabaret? Yes, a cabaret sounded perfect! I called Crazy Horse and Le Lido Cabaret to check on ticket availability, and both had tickets available for their latest showings: 11pm. Claire and I had a hard time finding an uber that would pick us up on time, as we were running a bit late getting ready after our naps. We dressed more formally as if going to a Broadway show - I in a tuile black skirt and pointy-toed mules, Claire in a blazer and dress shoes. Finally, our uber driver arrived and assured us that Lido’s last seating was at 11:30pm and we would be on time.
We arrived on the Champs Élysées, trying to not step in the puddles of water that were fast forming as the rain descended. We trotted up to the Lido awning. Men in tuxedos welcomed us in, and we walked along the burgundy velvet floor and walls adorned with rhinestones. It felt like a combination of an entrance to both a Broadway show and the Oscars red carpet. We purchased our tickets and were seated in a swanky center booth, a chilled bottle of champagne on the table for us to enjoy.
Looking back, the cabaret was one of the highlights for me, as I am a lover of dance, musical theater, and the performing arts in general. Claire enjoyed herself, too. Both of us had smiles as wide as the Seine during the entire performance. One obvious nuance that sets Broadway shows and French cabarets apart is the nudity, mainly womens’ breasts. For me, the nudity was neither offensive nor obscene. I interpreted the nudity as a celebration of the beauty of a woman’s body and as a nod to the traditional French cabaret that has been around for centuries. That being said, I am sure there was some screening prior to the performance in choosing women with perfectly symmetrical breasts, because they all boasted seemingly airbrushed ones of the ideal size and shape.
After the cabaret, we were finally hungry and chowed down at an Italian chain restaurant that was open until 4am. We headed back to sleep for a few hours before our castle tour the next morning.
With thoughts of cancan dancers in my head, I fell into a slumber.
Alana
The rain visited Paris for the next few days, which set a nice ambience but also limited the options Claire and I had to tour around town.
We decided to have a late breakfast at an organic bagel sandwich shop with fresh pressed juice. Everything was delicious until, I kid you not, Claire opened her bagel sandwich to show me a live tiny slug slithering through her arugula. Both of our jaws dropped and I wondered for a moment if a live snail was part of the cuisine culture in France? A sign of good luck? Ehhh...I think not.
I showed the woman behind the sandwich counter. She gasped, said she would make another, and brought us a new sandwich with the amount it cost. Thank you, kind lady! We are not upset - we know l’escargot vivant was probably living in the fresh arugula you picked from your terrace garden, and for that we cannot fault you. But it sure makes one heck of a story!
With the rain falling steadily, we decided to catch a movie at a French movie theater. I warned Claire that I didn’t think there would be English subtitles. She shrugged and said it was fine. We chose Volontaire about a female French national navy enrollee, Laure, who has to persevere in the boot camp amongst her male peers. It was entertaining. I think Claire caught up on her jet lag sleep during most of the movie.
After, we decided to head in the direction of les Jardins des Tuileries, where we saw la Place de la Concorde, the spot where many prominent French Revolution players lost their heads, including Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Les Jardins des Tuileries is also where Louis XVI and his family were brought and held against their will as Louis and Marie-Antoinette awaited their trial for treason when they tried to escape France. The gardens were created by Catherine Medici, and in the gardens facing the Place de la Concorde, there are several orange trees that line the walkway. This is how we found ourselves au Musée de l’orangerie.
Musée de l’orangerie is where Claude Monet’s most famous water lily murals are located. There are also many other impressionist works of art. I was interested in the female artists’ work, as you don’t hear of many female painters before the late 20th century. I was struck by the work of Marie Laurenceau and actually found an image of Mademoiselle Coco Chanel with a little dog that became my favorite. I also saw work by Douanier-Rousseau, Manet, Picasso, and Renoir while there. Sadly, the gift shop was closed as we headed out. I should mention that Claire was admitted to the museum at a discount for being 26 years of age or under, a policy adhered to by the national musées of Paris.
We headed back to our apartment for a late afternoon nap, the rain promising to be back. Our neighborhood is a quiet, quirky area with an amazing boulangerie across the way. Twice, we purchased the olive-filled baguette, tearing off pieces before even entering the apartment. There are other shops that line the street as well. I love teaching my students about the different stores in France, such as the boulangeries, patisseries, fromageries, laveries, cordonneries, boucheries, etc. Here is a photo I snapped of these little stores along the way:
After our nap, we weren’t sure what to do. It was late and pouring down rain. It wasn’t a good idea to go dancing, and we weren’t really hungry yet. Un cabaret? Yes, a cabaret sounded perfect! I called Crazy Horse and Le Lido Cabaret to check on ticket availability, and both had tickets available for their latest showings: 11pm. Claire and I had a hard time finding an uber that would pick us up on time, as we were running a bit late getting ready after our naps. We dressed more formally as if going to a Broadway show - I in a tuile black skirt and pointy-toed mules, Claire in a blazer and dress shoes. Finally, our uber driver arrived and assured us that Lido’s last seating was at 11:30pm and we would be on time.
We arrived on the Champs Élysées, trying to not step in the puddles of water that were fast forming as the rain descended. We trotted up to the Lido awning. Men in tuxedos welcomed us in, and we walked along the burgundy velvet floor and walls adorned with rhinestones. It felt like a combination of an entrance to both a Broadway show and the Oscars red carpet. We purchased our tickets and were seated in a swanky center booth, a chilled bottle of champagne on the table for us to enjoy.
Looking back, the cabaret was one of the highlights for me, as I am a lover of dance, musical theater, and the performing arts in general. Claire enjoyed herself, too. Both of us had smiles as wide as the Seine during the entire performance. One obvious nuance that sets Broadway shows and French cabarets apart is the nudity, mainly womens’ breasts. For me, the nudity was neither offensive nor obscene. I interpreted the nudity as a celebration of the beauty of a woman’s body and as a nod to the traditional French cabaret that has been around for centuries. That being said, I am sure there was some screening prior to the performance in choosing women with perfectly symmetrical breasts, because they all boasted seemingly airbrushed ones of the ideal size and shape.
After the cabaret, we were finally hungry and chowed down at an Italian chain restaurant that was open until 4am. We headed back to sleep for a few hours before our castle tour the next morning.
With thoughts of cancan dancers in my head, I fell into a slumber.
Alana
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