Howitzer

Paris sucks. Just kidding. Except, it took forever for us to get out of the airport. I think we spent like 2 hours trying to buy tickets to take the train into the city from Charles de Gaulle airport. We tried to buy tickets from these little green ticket machines which you see some variation of in every metro station around the world. Except these special green ones only took coins. Coins, for a 27 euro purchase. See, people were smart enough to realize the absurdity of this, so there was a credit card reader on the machine. Except, the machine wasn’t smart enough to read anyone’s card. We’re talking long lines of 15+ people at each of the dozen machines in the CDG train station. Each person figuring out the long way, why the little green machines didn’t work. Then going and lining up the human tellers to buy tickets. And what’s worse, the teller that we went to closed, though thankfully right after we got our tickets. The poor bastards behind us had to suffer and wait twice as long as we did after that.

Paris is not all bad though. I’m looking forward to seeing the many museum, churches, and multitudes of other tourist attractions in the city. Not to mention the food…and we also got a great deal on our hotel. I peeked at the manager’s reservation list, and we got a cheaper price for a triple than someone else who ordered a double room. We’re even staying for one more day. So take note, fellow travelers: hotel prices vary a lot.

My first dinner in Paris on the other hand, was absolutely amazing. It could be that I’d been up for near 36 hours at that point. It could be that I hadn’t eaten all day. But I think it was the best meal I’d had in at least a few years. We had a three course meal, along with some red wine. I started off with fresh mozzarella and tomatoes in a salad. This cheese was extremely fresh and juicy. I think France won me over at that point. But wait…there’s more. I had a beef bourguignon, with the tenderest beef I’ve had. I’ve made pot roast before, using chuck roast and 4-5 hours of slow cooking. The beef bourguignon tasted like it was done for at least twice as long. It was like the promised. And right when I thought I was as satisfied as could be, the waiter brought out the crème brulee. Goddamn. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything resembling this creamy toffee goodness sitting in front of me. And we could only stare and laugh at Phil’s face, as he stared at the impossibly large cheesecake slice before him.


I think the impossibly good dinner redeemed all the crap I had to deal with at the Paris CDG airport. We shall see how the rest of Paris goes.

-Howitzer