Day Thirteen

One of my best friends studied in Paris last year, so naturally I hounded her for all the best places to eat and see while I’m here. (Check out her blog here, so pretty cool)

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For my last day in Paris, I decided to have a food crawl with all of her suggestions.

Sam told me that I should not go anywhere else for crepes than Creperie Josselin. It is located on a tiny side street. I walked past it probably six times only to see that there was this sign saying that they were closed for the month. Tragic. If you are in Paris and go to this Creperie, please tell me how it is!

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I decided to try to find a local cafe to grab a light breakfast and coffee. Low and behold I stumble on a local, french farmer’s market. I couldn’t even tell you how, to be honest. Everything was here: Fresh fruit, raw meat, seafood, strange vegetables, truly everything.

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You can tell it was super local because of everyone only speaking french to me and each other. Everyone was so nice, friendly and patient with my terrible french. I grabbed a mini quiche and two clementines and sat at a coffee shop to listen to a jazz street band. Like how does this happen? This was probably my favorite part of Paris because it was such a local insight to the culture of the city.

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My next stop on Sam’s list was Coffee Parisian. Unlike Josselin, it was super easy to find. It is only a two minute walk from a Metro station in a nice shopping area. I was there 30 minutes before it opened, because of course, so I shopped a little. And by shopping, I mean that I bought a pair of socks and a necklace; so adventurous I know.

Behold: The Obama burger. A double cheeseburger with this amazing sauce. French people love Obama. I mean every time I told someone I was American, their first reaction was “Texas?!” or “Obama. ‘Yes We Can'”. They love him. The burger was actually pretty good, but medium-rare doesn’t really transfer well here so it was pretty much moo-ing on my plate. I would totally order it again though. The wait staff were also so nice and speak great english. I got a milkshake there to because at this point, why not?

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As a pit stop in my food crawling, I decided to go to Moulin Rouge to take a touristy photo of the famous windmill. Little did I realize was that Moulin Rouge is near all the live sex clubs in Paris. It was so sketchy and not worth going out there. This guy also kept trying to talk to me in the creepy “I’m A Nice Guy I Promise, Just Come Home With Me” sort of way. No thank you, sir.

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The metro in that area also doesn’t have a lot of stations were you can just get a single fare ticket, which is the kinds of tickets we were buying all week. This lovely French man swiped me in. I was still kind of freaked out by that guy trying to follow me into the subway station, so I am eternally grateful for his kindness. I then took the metro to the eiffel tower to have a little afternoon snack there. A coco-cola lite can save the world, I swear.

Sam’s suggestion is to grab some wine, food and a corkscrew and sit under the Eiffel Tower for dinner. Sadly, I had to meet up with the group for dinner, so I couldn’t do it. Very sad. But the food crawl as a whole was a success.

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