spring break part three: partying in Paris

The next morning, we got up early again (a common theme), to sadly head back to Paris. We of course had to stop by the quaint bakery next door, and soon enough, we were off.

Just look at those prices. Some of the best croissants I’ve ever had.

I was still however, in search of this one French pastry, the brasillé, which I literally could not find anywhere. However, it appeared that there was a chance this one bakery in Rouen had it, and luckily, my friend did promise that we could make a detour, as long as it was less than 45 minutes. On the bright side, the place I dragged her to, Aux Délices Normands, it apparently is one of the best bakeries in Normandy, and did have some pretty tasty pastries regardless.

Sainte-Catherine Hill! Apparently Monet painted a view from this hill, which is now in the Met.

These are the moments I distinctly realize just how much older the buildings are in Europe.

never getting over the views in Normandy

We then stopped at a shockingly massive grocery store for lunch on our way back to Paris to return the car. If only my local grocery store looked like this. Alas.

Soon enough we were back in Paris, with time to spare. I first retrieved my student ID and other assorted cards that I had accidentally left in the safe at our first hotel (thankfully), then headed to the iconic Stohrer to try out their famous pastries. I didn’t really love the baba au rum, but, I found the eclairs delicious.

Cannot get over the name of this street. Sometimes the jokes just write themselves.

For dinner, I tried out Chez Fernand Christine, which, although it was alarmingly full of American study abroad students, was pretty tasty. While the sautéed foie gras on toast was just okay, the roast chicken and mashed potatoes was absolutely delicious. The chicken was perfectly cooked and still juicy, while the mashed potatoes were creamy and buttery. Finally, the tarte tatin rounded out an all around solid meal.

To round out our night, we started out at Moonshiner, a speakeasy hidden behind a pizza shop with solid cocktails. Despite the crowd skewing older, for some reason, as we left to attempt to go out, we did watch a gaggle of underage teenagers plead with the bouncer, and then us to let them in.

Clubbing in Paris was definitely… interesting, especially since I did not realize how strict they are. One bouncer looked at us and said, “sorry, it is not possible.” Absolutely brutal. It’s okay though, because all in all, it still ended up being a fun night.

The next day, we went to purchase a suitcase to fit all of our goodies to take back to the states. But because we forgot to take the security tag off, after some failed attempts back at the hotel room to remove ourselves using kiddie scissors and nail clippers, we had to sprint back to the monoprix, where shockingly, they did not question us when we showed up a security tag that looked like a dog had chewed through it.

We then went to Marche Couvert des Enfants Rouges for some surprisingly delicious Moroccan cuisine. Then it was a sprint to the nearest bakery to get a baguette and some pastries for our very long flight back to NYC and reality. No seriously. Once I came home I was promptly violently ill for two weeks.