SOME ARE SILVER AND THE OTHERS GOLD

BEST WEEK YET

This week has been one of the greatest weeks of my life! And the undercurrent ... “Make new friends and keep the old, some are silver and the others gold.”

I have had the great pleasure of exchanging gold-friend moments with Simon this week. Meeting so many of his, and him meeting one of mine. 

It all started on Saturday Morning when my silver-friend, who already feels like solid gold, Elise, and I got together. She’s in town for work and staying at Le Bristol. Only THE finest hotel in all of Paris if you ask moi (and Woody Allen. I mean… just watch Midnight in Paris for proof.)

She is one of my prompt-est friends (something I love about her and she of me) so when we said we’d meet in the lobby at 11:30am, and I was yet to be there, she came outside in search. “I knew I’d find you here!” I was running my butchered-French mouth – amusing the valet. Simon has graciously offered me his bike to shorten the distances of Paris until I find one of my own. So, I was attempting to request them park it for me while I visited with mon amie. 

Elise – modelesque – looked like she had stepped off the runway 10 minutes ago, not Delta flight 88. After we gushed over one another, we made our way to the dining area and practically held court for three hours. We gabbed at length with each other and also with the team. There must be a mandatory next-level-kind exam – with a capital K.I.N.D. – that everyone who works here must pass in order to be employed. Because ummm no one spoke or walked past us without a smile and steady eye contact. J’adore! Paul was our favorite. Squirrely, young and overly excited to show us around the hotel. He had just started so I think he was still riding that new-job high. We jumped on his ride too and let him giddily share the history of the hotel as we strolled every hall leading to Elise’s room!

Our breakfast, that really turned into our late lunch considering how long we were catching up, was divine! We ended it on the terrace (coziest of cozy weather) with another coffee and complimentary chocolates. I only had one question…

When can I move in?!! 

EN ROUTE TO THE LEFT BANK

That afternoon Elise and I strolled over to Saint-Germain-des-Prés where we went to a pop up exhibit of one of her Mexico City artist friends – AGO Projects. We peered in the window, yet they were closed. We then decided that if the J.K. Hotel would tuck Simon’s bike away for us … then that was a GREENLIGHT sign for me to keep tagging along. They did! So I did! (another incredibly KIND hotel experience). With that – we made our way to the Musée du Quai Branly for the Kehinde Wiley exhibit. 

We were both awe struck at the size, the detail, the colors, and also the shyness that his art brought out! There was a short film in one of the areas of the exhibition. As we sat, listened, and watched artist Wiley interviewing his subjects, both Elise and I noticed that these dignitaries, heads of states (hello Barack!), and powerful leaders – all, under a close lens shied away from the spotlight. These are people whose entire careers depend on them being proud and standing strong. Yet they all seemed to blush at the thought of their picture being taken in such an intimate setting. Spectacular to witness. It made them more human! 

SUNDAY FUNDAY 

Or should it be Sunday FAMday? Or Sunday FRIENDday? Or Sunday GAMEday?! Chose any for moi… They would all fit! Biggest day yet for me since arriving in Paris. 

At noon I biked to Simon’s brother, Matthieu’s, home. Simon was meeting me there on his motorbike at 12:45pm. It was only going to take me 20 mins but I wanted to give myself a buffer in case I (ummmmm indeed did) lose my way. 

I arrived just on time and to a text from Simon “suis en face en terrace” – he was across the way on a terrace. I didn’t know what that meant exactly and since my whole body was numb with nerves I assumed he meant inside the building he was on a terrace somewhere. So, I punched the code to Mattheiu’s place and entered the huge exterior door with Simon’s bike. 

Now, on to find Simon. Where could this terrace be? Through the courtyard I thought. There must be a terrace on that side of the building. I walked through and peered in the window of the locked door. No terrace. 

As I was turning to text him, something fell from the sky. Maureen, Mattheiu’s partner, was shaking out a bag upstairs and a piece of paper from the bag landed beside me. No joke! I looked up - we instantly recognized one another from pictures and said hello. Ah! The terrace Simon is on… must be upstairs. Their terrace! She motioned for me to come up so I started making my way up the flights. Reaching their 4th étage, the door opened by a little Côme – their precious three year old. 

Maureen and I double kissed bonjour, and by shock to her I’m sure, I hugged her tightly. “Where is Simon?” we BOTH asked in sync. “I suspected he was here. He’s on your terrace, no?!” I asked. Not 10 seconds later I saw my phone light up. Simon was calling. “Where are you?” he said. “I'm with your family,” I told him. He had been across the street at a cafe terrace waiting to take me up himself for introductions. Such a gentleman! We all nervously laughed as he made his way over.

The adults had pink champagne as Côme practiced his magic tricks. We had the most delicious homemade roasted pork lunch with spinach. Afterwards, we ate beautiful cheeses and bread. I personally didn’t want the afternoon to end. I don’t think any of us did. We lengthened it by feasting more on sweet dessert  – I had brought a brick of Île Saint Louis Berthillon ice cream to pair with my sack of Charleston Benne Wafers. My old neighborhood’s famous cookies with my new neighborhood’s famous ice cream. (I had also brought Maureen my favorite flowers, tulips, and am proud to say that I spoke French at both of these shops when ordering. I can’t say it enough. When you attempt to speak, and preface it with “I’m a student so thank you in advance for your patience as I practice,” frowns are turned upside down.)

That afternoon concluded and that meant that we were off to our second rendezvous. Simon had double booked us that day. We were due to go to one of his best friend’s homes for dinner and Rugby that evening. France was playing South Africa. 

Upon arriving in their neighborhood (we biked from the 17th Arr to Parc Montsouris… one hour to the southernmost tip of the city), we caught our breath, and quenched our thirst, over a pinte de bière blonde pour Simon and a pinte demi IPA pour moi. 

Reaching Daniel and Sophie’s home was a dream. I had never seen anything like this in Paris. Their terrace was a completely separate exterior room. Their boodle, Josephine, was perched in her chair being fed beets. She was edible herself! In fact, after her dinner I promptly offered to hold her. She stayed on my lap for the hour prep of our delicious grilled meal – while Simon checked on our appetizer. We were responsible for bringing something to wet our pallet and we both decided a Southern treat would be best for my introduction. I made pimento cheese with Simon’s homemade mayonnaise. We spread it high on toasted brioche and they ate it up! (Simon jokes when I do something he loves with a “10 points!” – Yay! My score rose with this dish.)

Jokes were passed around that they were happy Simon had brought me by for “an interview”… An American nanny had been on their list for ages! Don’t tempt me, Daniel, I thought! A job and a snuggly baby? – sounds kinda ideal right about now.

That night we all know the verdict. France lost by only ONE point. And although Simon still says “we can’t talk about it” when the game is brought up – I was pleasantly surprised that the loss didn’t affect the mood for long. (Not like US football games with diehard fans. When there's a loss – the suffering / anger can linger and be a loss for the whole night). We all had a whiskey and may have possibly had a skinny cigarette before Simon and I made our way – this time by taxi (temperature had DROPPED significantly) – back to the center of Paris.

ALL TO MYSELF

Monday, I decided to take Elise up on her offer for me to lounge poolside at Le Bristol – she is staying with me on the backend of her work trip, so as a thankyou, she has put me down as her room plus-one. I can come and go as I please – code for: prune all the livelong day in their one-of-a-KIND (there’s that KIND word again!) rooftop boat-pool in Paris, and dry out like a lizard in their sauna just down the hall. My happiest of happy places.

I swam, saunaed, napped, swam again, read my book, wrote – simply ENJOYED life in this grand room that I had all to myself. Not one person, but an employee (who came promptly after I exited the sauna to restock it with towels. How did he know!? This is luxury living!), came in the whole day.

ONE OF THE BEST NIGHTS OF MY LIFE!

Let me set the scene. Seven Frenchies, moi, an enormous Le Creuset full of boeuf bourguignon that I had slaved over all day, laughter, wine, and a mix of English and French conversations. Heaven!

These were all of Simon’s best childhood friends from Amiens. How lucky was I? I got to witness the most precious moments. They all welcomed me into their fold as if I too had known them for 40+ years. 

To celebrate some good news from Simon’s work that day, and my news on opening my first bank account in France, I had decided to cook for us. Boy have I missed cooking! My absolute favorite pastime. He offered up his place since he has a larger kitchen, and I was market bound. You can only imagine how long it took me to gather all the provisions speaking in French – but finally I was in his place, calculating fahrenheit into celsius, and preheating his oven while the boeuf was tenderizing. 

One of his childhood friends was in town from Vietnam, where he lives now for work with his family, for a very short semi-impromptu visit. I knew there was a chance that we could invite him to join us for this lovely dinner, but it was still up in the air. By 4pm I received a call from Simon that he was going to have drinks with his friend and that he’d be with me by 7pm for our special dinner – he didn’t think his friend would be in tow. 

By 6:30pm, while he was at drinks, I received a text that his friend would be joining us. Yay! And then by 6:45pm, a short 15 minutes later, I was receiving a call that Simon had extended the invitation to two more friends. My exc-ervousness was on high! Didn’t end there. At 7:30pm, the dinner party had reached a headcount of 8! Bring on a new combo exc-ervous-ic (excited + nervous + PANIC)! Did I have enough food?!!!

I had told him earlier that night that “the more the merrier” – eek. Simon took it very literally. He called me at 8:40pm as he was en route back to his place to ask me to go get more pasta before the store closed at 9pm. He had the best idea to add fresh tagliatelle pasta to my stew to double… really, triple… the portion. It was DIVINE! 

In a matter of minutes, Simon was home and practically squealing with excitement. It was such a special moment to witness. One by one all of his friends poured into his front door. Kisses and smiles were contagious. I had never felt more comfortable in a scenario where I should have felt out of place. 

Toasts were shared, intimate conversations had, laughter percolated in the room – Simon had started the meal with a raising glass of gratitude for all of his childhood friends gathering at his home. He then turned his glass and gaze in my direction – praised me for such a lovely prepared meal (“100 points” he winked at me). Within minutes second servings were being passed around, and by the end of the night – the pot was clean! I beamed with pride! So did Simon.

LEVELING UP – on my jokes

Near the end of the night, his friend visiting from Vietnam made his way to my end of the table where I spoke French as best as I could while he kept his eyes locked on my every word. I thought he was admiring my attempt. But then! Out of nowhere! He started laughing. Laughing so hard that I started laughing. And before I knew it, everyone at the table (the crowd had slimmed down by this point at …1AM!!) erupted in howls. He teased that “no one will understand you, my love.”  By that point I think I had consumed two bottles of vin by myself while he and I split another beer – needless to say, I was 3 sheets! I looked over at Simon and kept saying his name in a “rescue me” tone. We all were giggling. Simon took that opportunity to have the group explain to me the different “degrees” of French comedy. As his friend was definitely giving me the “third degree” with this statement.

Simon had tried to explain this on several occasions – but it wasn’t until this moment when it sank in. There are different levels of comedy here in France. We don’t have them in America, so it can come across as… well, harsh, at times. I have had to practice “don’t take anything personal” to find the humor in a few situations. And on this night, as the definitions and examples were flowing – I finally learned what level Simon was. I was told that he was “naughty” as a child, “mischievous” as a teen, and “sarcastic” as an adult… my true, level four! 

ART BASEL DANS LE PARC

En route to my precious pied-à-terre the next morning, on a day that had called for rain, but was GORGEOUS – was the perfect remedy for a pounding headache and permagrin fatigue. I walked through Jardin des Tuileries for an up close and personal view of the Art Basel installations. And the outfits (see below)!

I took my time walking home. When I arrived the rain had moved in and I was cozy. 

The next day started with a cool walk to Le Bristol, where I was bookending my week with another beautiful hotel breakfast with Elise. We shared conversations over a tower of pastry. And by we, I mean me! I did my best to eat my way through ours since Elise can’t have gluten or wait for it… wait for it… butter! Poor thing! I made us proud (and my pants tighter).

I ran a few errands (back to the bank… more on that experience if I ever feel like it’s worth sharing. All I have to say is the words “impossible” and “try” were used by my American bank – two words that don’t fit in my vocabulary – because they give permission to failure. Something I have NO intention of doing. I think anything is “possible” and “doable.” Which of course it is. Since a little outside of the box thinking by moi, is making it all happen over here! I derail....)

Later that afternoon, after I had the full pleasure of hearing from one of my golden besties, Sarah (made my heart full!)  – I met with a new silver friend, David Jimenez. 

While I was in Montauk last month I got to see one of my dear friends, Andrew. When I mentioned to him that I was renting temporarily on Île Saint Louis he nearly choked on his Negroni. His interior designer who he had just met last year was living on the same island – a block away from me. He has put us in touch and we had coffees, long deep conversations, and inspirational discussions about the WHY we chose Paris and the HOW Paris chose us. All I could say to explain my WHY and HOW was… “what I’m seeking, is seeking me.” 

ANOTHER NIGHT TO REMEMBER

That night Elise and her boss, Melissa, were hosting an intimate cocktail party at One Vendôme – a brand new hotel overlooking Place Vendôme. Spectacular! Champagne was passed as we meandered through the never-stayed-in-suites with the most masterful storyteller and Hôtelier, Didier. 

He and I bonded over his love for Charleston, along with his admiration for the deep south – Texas, that is! He shared that his first experience ever in the US was in the Big D! (For your information, Texas was also Simon’s first US experience – he couldn’t make out any English there, he said. I confessed – I can't either sometimes.) The property was a dream. A boutique, 15 room, hotel. Each room took on a different personality. My favorite was the one draped in dark wood walls and burgundy bedding – it felt very masculine. Practically screaming for someone to… HAND ME OVER A BOURBON ALREADY! They didn’t, so I happily continued to sip my feminine bubbles.

I had the pleasure of introducing Elise’s boss, Melissa, a year + ago at the Charleston Library Society – when we had invited her to come present her Safari Style book. Tonight was an added bonus. We switched roles as she introduced me to this grand experience. Being with these two incredible women, at this incredible location, in this incredible city – was a GREENLIGHT! 

Elise and I said our farewells and then accepted the hotel’s offering of two umbrellas as we made a run for it. It was steadily raining at this point, so we were dodging puddles when we spotted our date. Simon! 

We met him at Bar du Moulin (where he and I first laid eyes on each other back in June) and then headed directly across the street to Chez George to sit at his “best table” and dine at his “best place.” I was feeling so happy. Two of my favorite people together. They had met and hit it off already back in Charleston, when Simon spent 10 days with me in August.

We had eggs with mayonnaise, lentils (which I must figure out how to make asap! I can’t stop thinking about them), a fish drowning in butter, steak saturated in cream, and for dessert, their specialty, pruneaux à l’armagnac. The conversations were colorful and laughter radiated. I was with two masterful debaters. Elise, who started a debate team in Cambodia as a fun way to teach English when she was living there after college, and Simon, who is, well, head of debate anywhere he is… period. Both won their arguments, and swayed each other’s thinking on topics I that were out of this world! I remained a spectator and towed the center line. 

Once we smooched Simon farewell, Elise and I had the bright idea to have “one more drink.” (Bright idea until after the drink we realized we still had a 20 minute walk to Le Bristol to get her bags before heading home.) We walked into Hôtel Costes at 1am and didn’t leave until almost two hours later. We had a ball! Met a fellow southerner who claimed she was from Kentucky (although, we weren’t convinced given her accent), we had wild conversations that could have easily gotten us all canceled in the US if overheard, we met a guy who claimed to have a private hunting club in Botswana (uh, oh! Wrong duo to try to impress, guy… or lie to. Elise is a walking talking google map. She literally knows every place to rest your head or camp in Africa. The poor fellow! He couldn’t recover. If his name had been Pinocchio, his nose would have been a mile long!), and we witnessed a very “ugly” (southern code for RUDE) moment when the woman across from us grabbed another woman’s arm and said “you are SO LOUD.” 

What a night! 

We finally made our way into bed at 4am and as you can imagine, woke up this morning with a wild craving for WATER!!!

More to come – we’re off to scope out the city and explore all that Paris has to offer on this misty day before she is Italy bound tomorrow. 

Bisous bisous!