New Year's in Paris

We decided to spice up the holidays this year with a quick weekend in Paris for New Year's Eve. We set it up to make it as easy as possible - early afternoon flight, our regular hotel in an area of Paris we know well and dinner reservations at our favorite restaurant.

As we packed up on Thursday evening we quickly came to realize that we had misplaced Casey's pet passport - her official documentation of vaccinations that the kennel needs to see on check-in. We turned the whole house upside down looking for it, but found only frustration and stress. So despite specifically choosing an afternoon flight in order to avoid an early wake up call, we were up at 7am to rush down to the vet and get a replacement document. With that in hand we drove to the kennel outside of town, bouncing up and down on the rutted country roads. Of course it goes without saying that when we checked her in, nobody at the kennel asked to see the precious document we had lost so much sleep over.

We now spent even more time and energy worrying that this ordeal was an omen of things to come and that the rest of the trip would be a trial as well. But it turned out to be the exact opposite. The trip was perhaps the easiest, most convenient piece of travel we have undertaken in the last couple of years. The bus to the terminal was waiting for us at the long-term parking lot. There was nobody in line at the bag drop. The same with security, which was efficient and easy. Boarding was quick and even a little bit early. We had somehow ended up in the emergency exit row, without booking it specifically or paying any extra. The flight itself left slightly early and arrived ahead of schedule. The bag was one of the first on the carousel. And to top it off we ended up with a taxi driver who not only knew the obscure little side street our hotel was on, but he took the most direct and efficient route, shaving about 20 minutes and 30 euros off what previous taxis had done. If only it could be like that every time.

We stashed our bags in the hotel and made a dash for the Monoprix down the street. We usually pick up a load of water, bread, fruit and cheese so that we can be a little more self sufficient for breakfast and avoid the 20 euro per person surcharge. The Monoprix was insane. I have never been in a busier grocery store. I guess with most things being closed on the 1st, people were stocking up. That and last minute items for whatever house parties they were attending. It was kind of cool to see so many couple with bundles of food (or trays of oysters, apparently that's the New Year's tradition here) heading off in all directions, obviously in the party mood.

Still a little drained by the stress of the previous evening we had a good nap in the hotel room, which really helped set us up for the evening. We had reservations at Le Pere Claude, our favorite Parisien restaurant. We were given a small table for two and a fabulous waiter. He would change between French, English, Italian or Spanish depending on what table he was serving. He was extremely helpful in picking out a fabulous wine, which he then gave us the credit for choosing. Their New Year's Eve menu was a slight variation of their regular fare, but with an excess of truffles. Fiona started with a lobster and smoked salmon salad (with truffles), and they were kind enough to exchange the salmon for crawfish after she told them about her allergy. I had the Oueffs Cocotte, which I had had in the past, a lightly poached egg floating in a creamy truffle soup. To make it special they had slipped in a small piece of foie gras. Decadent to the extreme. Fiona's main was scallops and lobster served over truffle tortellinis. I think you're probably seeing the theme now. I had the odd combination of a perfect piece of roast chicken served with a half grilled lobster, with Pere Claude's famous mashed potatoes and a truffle sauce. Dessert was Fiona's favorite creme chocolat ancien (a rich, smooth mousse/pudding) and clafoutis for me (an apple cake that reminded me of my mother's). I had asked for a Drambuie at the end, but they weren't really serving any harder spirits other than cognac or armagnac. The waiter did see fit to pour me something from a little one-eared jug behind the register, on the house. Wow. It must have been some type of home brewed herb liquer - either that or floor varnish. It was incredibly strong.

Sufficiently fortified we grabbed our camera equipment and bundled ourselves up against a surprisingly penetrative cold. We walked down to the Champs de Mars in front of the Eiffel Tower and waited for the lightshow and fireworks. We had our place staked out by quarter to eleven, and Fiona got some great shots of the Tower, lit up against a very foggy back drop that would shroud the top from view every now and again. As it got busier and busier (mostly with tourists, like the drunken Australian group behind us) you could feel the tension start to build. The expected light show on the Tower itself had failed to materialize, but people were still a buzz with anticipation.

And then it was 12:05. Nothing had happened. No countdown, no announcement, no bells and definitely no fireworks - except those brought by some of the more prepared people in the crowd. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, but it was definitely more than what we got. Oh well, I got to kiss my wife in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower as we rung in the new year. As one of the Australians said behind us, "I don't care where you are or how cool it is there, I'm at the freaking Eiffel Tower, man!"

Happy New Year everyone. I hope 2011 brings nothing but good things for you. I hope that you all get your own personal Eiffel Tower moment, being with the ones you love most and appreciating that which you have around you.