Me Old! // Farewell to Paris October 9, 2009

My birthday month, so I have been busy partying! Hahaha… well, not really. Look at my face also know I’m not the party animal type. ;P Just been celebrating a lot (yeah, a LOT of backlogged entries there) and when I’m free, I’m either updating my FACEBOOK or trying to sync back thousands of my songs into my iPod (I lost my songs during BA training MONTHS ago… heartache!). So yeah… life’s been good… feel very loved this year because got so many birthday wishes and celebrations and CAKE. And people asking me out. And this weekend is party weekend wooohoooooooooo~~~

Since I lack the time to write a new post about how I’ve been celebrating (quiet celebrations so far), here’s a backlogged entry about my last night in Paris instead! Hahaha. After this will be Madrid, or interspersed with whatever I have backlogged lah . Byeeeee!!

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Our last day in Paris was extremely laid-back, filled with as little walking as humanly possible. In fact, I think we slept most of the time, waking up only to ensure that we had not morphed into sloths. After the excitement of the previous day (making new friends and all wtf), we were super cheered up and excited to go to the Catacombes.

Actually, I had disturbing dreams about the Catacombes before visiting it. For some reason, I imagined the whole thing to be very claustrophobic, and in the dream I was begging Ben to not go through with the idea of visiting the place, and he got angry with me because we had been in line for hours. At the last moment, I screamed after him (as he went through the gateway to what looked like Hell), “I can’t go through with it!! Sorry!!” and then I found myself trapped in what looked like a coffin, with a skeleton inside, with no way forward or back. -___-

Would you consider that as a nightmare? I didn’t really feel scared in the dream… even when once I dreamt that my whole family were trying to escape from werewolves, there wasn’t any fear in me, except a dogged, pissed-off feeling of, “Okay, I GUESS we have no choice but to be on the run” and when my brother turned into a werewolf in the dream, it was a dogged, pissed-off, “Okay, I GUESS we have to kill him now.”

Anyway, in case you have no idea what The Catacombes are, here is a little history on it that we saw while we were a-visiting:

At the end of the 18th century, rampant disease in the les Halles neighborhood caused by the adjacent Cemetery of the Innocents led to the mass grave being entirely exhumed. In 1785, it was decided that the bones were to be moved to the building stone quarry under the Montsouris plain in the south of Paris. On April 7, 1786, after being properly converted and readied, the quarries were consecrated and became the principal ossuary of Paris. Until 1788, cartloads covered with black clothes, escorted by priests chanting the office for the dead, crossed Paris by night to deposit their remains.

The guy in the middle is mucho cute though, don’t you think?

Last stalker pic of Frodo / Elijah Wood

Walking through lots of tunnels… anticipating the bonessss.

Some educational display… to explain what this whole thing’s about.

These carvings / sculptures were made by someone who got lost in the Catacombes before… and ended up trapped here. So pitiful and so creepy!

A well.

Ben puts on a brave face before facing the skullsssss.

In the end… it was not that scary. It’s not claustrophobic, smelly or dusty at all (I kept imagining ‘bone dust’ being blown all around us). I still think it’s creepy to have stacks of bones in strange patterns surround us, but after a while you get numbed to it. Most of the photos are taken by Ben, btw. I couldn’t really bring myself to photograph the stuff. Even looking at the pictures give me a headache, and I cannot fathom how people can even THINK of stealing a skull to bring back home.

Nothing much to caption here, just enjoy the erm… way they arrange someone’s remains.
Sorry for the bad quality pics, but they don’t allow flash photography, which to my annoyance, a LOT of tourists ignore and still snap away with blinding flash. -___-” I hope a ghost follows them back, hehe.
Also, since I get a headache seeing these pics (which I do acknowledge is all psychological)… I didn’t really STARE at the photographs to edit them nicely.

FYI, although you enter near Denfert-Rochereau, you exit in some other part of town. We ate at some random bakery, I asked a handsome Frenchman that looked like Hugh Jackman for directions (damn proud of myself wtFFFF) and then we went back to the hotel.

Lunch at a nearby bakery. Forgot another useful French word to teach you — “CETTE” which means “this”. Basically if you don’t know what you’re ordering, you just point at the item and say, “Cette”. Hahaha. Then you’re all “cette”, so to say.

Woke up in the evening in order to get ready to go to Le Comptoir, the best restaurant in Paris, as recommended “by our new found friends” D&T. We arrived slightly before 7, and got an excellent table by the sidewalk. I’m not being sarcastic here, I think the best tables are by the sidewalk, because it enables you to “people watch” while eating your dinner. Besides, the lighting outside is much better. A warning to those who would ever consider dining here – priority goes to guests of the hotel next door, so if you were a mere peasant lining up for dinner, you might find your line being cut by someone who just waltzed down from the building next door. Also, apparently most French people dine at 9pm, so you have to go earlier. You might be distinctively un-French to do so, but it will save your feet a lot of standing around, doing nothing.

View of the restaurant outside (taken when we were leaving).

All the hip people, sitting by the sidewalk. ;P

The food is excellent here, service is impeccable and the price is … erm… fair I would say. Sadly for me, the best restaurants that we’ve gone to have menus with no English translations, but if blind-pickings resulted in such good fare, then surely once we brush up on our French, nothing will be able to stop us?

Ben’s appetizer – gazpacho

My appetizer – foie gras on toast.

Ben’s main – a kind of roast duck dish with peach compote.

My main – some sort of roast pork dish on a bed of lentils. I assure you, it’s heavenly.

Schadenfreude – smiling at the misfortune of all the hungry people behind me.

Ben is smug too. You can see a bit of the restaurant interior behind him – classy place.

Our desserts – I had a superbly sinful raspberries in fresh whipped cream and seeded vanilla ice-cream, while Ben had a coffee-infused creme brulee.

Spent the rest of the night wandering around the town area, but it was really quite dead by the time we were done. There was really nothing else left for us to do but to get a good night’s sleep and be content that we really “did” Paris. ;P

Au revoir! (And I know how to pronounce this properly too.. thanks Ben! Hehehe!)

A note of advice for anyone taking Ryanair — to get to the Paris Beauvais airport from the city center, there is a bus route there, but the bus will only take passengers a certain time away from the flight. For example, if your flight leaves at 1pm and you arrive at the terminal at 11:30am, you will be denied tickets and asked to take the cab instead. Ben and I were lucky in the sense that we blindly decided to go to the bus terminal first and then eat at the airport, so we arrived just in time (that is : THREE HOURS BEFORE OUR FLIGHT) to get the tickets we required. If we had decided to eat lunch first, we would’ve had to cab it there, and erm… it’s pricey. It’s over an hour bus ride to this tiny airport, that has only one departure gate.

Oh yes, and Dull — Air Asia flies to Paris now, so maybe you don’t have to save up so much anymore, hehehe!

Lastly, souvenirs for my friends! Hahaha.. and for myself.

Roger & Gallet soaps that I found on the last night, in a pharmacy near Comptoir.
Some prints… think of framing them up and putting them around my (non-existing) house. Things to look at and remind me of happier days.

Ben convinced me to get this poster replica of the Van Gogh. -___- It’s now in my office.

Souvenirs for my friends! The 3 big magnets are for my galpals… but my parents saw them when I left them around the house and stuck it onto the fridge omg. So greedy!! I looked all over for them and was so sad, thought I lost the magnets and had nothing for my friends. T___T So gals, if you read this, this is part of the reason why it has taken me this long to give you all the souvenirs. Hehehe!

Travel Log : Making Friends All Over The World September 27, 2009

Been bumming around on weekends on advice from my male colleagues at work. They are firm believers that doing nothing during the weekend is the way to go. They said that I’m mad when I said that, “I have to do SOMETHING otherwise I would feel like the weekend just went in a blink of an eye.” And I have been taking their advice WHY?!?! Because I thought it would be cathartic to sit and think and read and be quiet. But just like how people say that it’s cathartic to talk about things, I disagree. It just doesn’t work for me. Different strokes for different folks… if I talk about things, I end up getting terribly annoyed and frustrated at the stupidity of it all. If I sit and bum at home, I end up feeling more burned out and restless. At least if I went to the gym the whole day, I would be really tired right now and would be sure that I will be able to fall asleep easily. Gah! Never going to take advice from my male colleagues again!! X(

I wanna do lots and lots of stuff. I want to go and snoop out new places. I wanna go and disturb my friends. I want to spend more time OUT of the house, even if my parents say I am treating the house like a hotel. Talking about houses, I seem to think that all my problems in life will be solved once I get my own place. So might be spending weekends to househunt. If you guys have any good suggestions, pls tell me. My requirements are :
- preferably new development, I don’t mind waiting til 2012 or whatever for it to be completed;
- if 2nd hand, preferably not more than 2 – 3 years old;
- MUST be freehold;
- my preferred areas : Subang, Puchong, Bandar Sunway (NOT Sunway Damansara ok!), Petaling Jaya (around the Jaya33 area);
- not above 500k.
Thanks in advanceeeee hehehe.

Oh, and the weekend wasn’t exactly completely without meeting people. Had some family thingy to go for, cos my granduncle from Ipoh came up to visit… he’s funny. Was annoyed at my parents because they asked me to go to the restaurant at 10:45am, but the restaurant only opens at 11:30am. So they left me and my brother stranded there while they themselves smartly came at 11:25am. Long story why we went separately, but anyway they were so unremorseful about it! They were laughing when my brother phoned them to ask them wtf they asked us to go so early. T__T Anyway, of all places to drag my brother to, I dragged him to the haberdashery so that I could buy stuff for my costume. Er… the costume was for the company annual dinner this year, but it got cancelled. T___T So upsetting.. now I have an expensive costume (half-finished some more because I don’t have the headgear) and no where to wear it to. T___T And not only that, I have been designing the whole make-up “look” to wear for the costume and was so excited to show it to you all. Pointless now, really.

Anyway, some funny conversations when I met all my old-timer relatives… (they bring a smile to my heart… so cheesy) :

Me : Dad!!!! Why did you ask me to meet you all at 10:45am and then you all show up so late! You left me stranded here with an angsty teenage boy. Nothing to do also!
Andrew : What! Why must mention teenage boy! If it’s a 30 year old man, you’ll have more fun issit!
Andrew, what you don’t know could fill a book.

[to waitress] Me : Yat tip char siew, yat tip ha…
Grandma : WAH! You know how to speak Cantonese already!
Me (going wtf in my mind) : Haha… like that also considered can speak ah!
Grandma : It’s very good ady, some more with the correct intonations…
Mom (annoyed) : What made you think she couldn’t speak cantonese!
Grandma : She cannot speak cantonese last time wan!
Granduncle : OF COURSE SHE CAN SPEAK CANTONESE LAH! OTHERWISE HER CINA BOSS WILL FIRE HER!!
It’s no secret that I work for a super Chinese-fied company, hahaha

Granduncle : Uncle Kevin admires you so much because you went and work in Cambodia.
Me : Huh…. what is so admirable about that laaa.
Granduncle : They offer him so much $$ to go… he said he don’t dare. But then you one lonely girl go… so daring.
Me : When you reach the country, you will realise that you have been scared of nothing.
Mother : The Cambodians are more afraid of LeeCheng than LeeCheng is afrad of the Cambodians.
Thanks motherrrrrr.

Okay, continue with the Paris travel log… I blogged about it a while ago. It’s called “Making Friends All Over The World” for a reason. Please read on!

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Our 4th day started out moody as well, perhaps after the feet-torture the previous day. I woke up early, and Ben slept on as I went to Franprix for breakfast. I tell you, if I stay alone, I would wish to stay very near to a fancy supermarket so that I can get nice stuff for breakfast / lunch daily. (I usually don’t eat dinner). I think grocery shopping accounts for quite a chunk of my salary…

Had a smoked salmon sandwich for breakfast, and Sicilian orange juice. Also bought more water, and since Evian wasn’t there (Evian is possibly the only thing that’s cheaper in France than in Malaysia), I decided to buy this bottle of water called “Eau l’Diethetique” or something like that. The bottle was erm… nicely shaped so I felt that it must be nice. (Don’t ask me what kinda logic that is.) Got a shock when I drank it and it tasted like very diluted sea water. T____T When Ben woke up later, he said it was literally, diet water… supposedly something you drink so that you get an hourglass-like shape (somewhat the shape of the bottle). I am damn scared of what minerals they put into the water to make it taste like that, but my thirst would overcome me and there I would be, drinking diluted salt water. T___T

Sicilian orange juice and part of the diet WATER that you should not ever ever try. Better to go thirsty!

Smoked salmon sandwich! That reminds me, Imma make sss for breakfast tomorrow! *happy*

Last night’s macaroons for breakfast! Nice!

Went out at a decent-ish time, decided to go to Galeries Lafayette. Sigh… I’ve already mentioned that the things I like are way too expensive for me. So.. moving on…. after I saw how “beautifully” priced the items were, I really lost all hope in continuing to shop there. We went to the souvenirs section instead, where I bought some stuff for my family and colleagues, but that was all the shopping I did in this place. There was a book with an anime cover of a guy going down on a girl, haha. Buy also don’t dare to use. [Don't know why I mention things like these also, gives my colleagues ammo to call me a pervert.]

I thought of getting a Hermes scarf, but how often am I going to use it anyway? No doubt that it’s beautiful, and if you know all the ways to tie on a scarf, you can really snazz up your wardrobe with an everlastingly chic piece. But sometimes I really can’t trust my taste. Something that I think is awesome, turns out to be really ugly in the eyes of my friends. This doesn’t only apply to clothes, but also to my hair, make-up and my taste in men. Hahahah.

Anyway, when push came to shove, I couldn’t bear to part with the $$ for the scarf anyway because it’s soooo not something I’m going to use often in Malaysia, and halfway through, I thought I was just being “poyo” to get something for the sake of it. Ahhh… I managed to resist the temptation.

THOUGHT of going to Printemps, as it was a highly recommended shopping area, but since Ben said it’ll be Lafayette part two, I said fuck it. We had lunch at the food court in Lafayette (which is surprisingly affordable considering where we were) and then buggered off to Notre Dame. Had a salmon fettucini dish, fresh fruit salad and creme brulee for dessert. It was about 8 euros for everything, and despite that sounding like it’s a lot for a food court, it was one of our cheapest meals in Paris.

Music Academy of Paris.

Galeries La Fayette.

The famed dome.

Lunch! Salmon penne, fresh fruit bowl and creme caramel.

They allow dogs EVERY-FRIGGING-WHERE.

Ben’s Sotong Face.

Souvenirs I bought from Galeries La Fayette for colleagues and friends.

When we reached Notre Dame, it was hot in the afternoon, and the small island where the church was located (Ile de la Cite) was quickly covered over. There’s really not much to do there, except to shop for souvenirs and to look at the church anyway. Finally found a Berthillion shop (it’s supposedly the most famous ice-cream store in France), where I had a single scoop of rum & raisin ice-cream. Although I won’t say that it’s a must try, I have to say that the flavour is really strong. You can really taste the intoxicating rum and the sweetness of the raisins. Unlike places like, say, Baskin Robbins where you might suspect they add in a single drop of rum into the entire liter of ice-cream, I think Berthillion is a littleeeee TOO heavy-handed with the rum. I felt I was getting drunk off ice-cream while walking around Ile de la Cite.

They actually call this the Seine beach.

Cafe life. Love this picture. *self praise*

I like this picture too… because it looks like B&W but it isn’t.

Enjoying Berthillion ice cream.

The Notre Dame cathedral was very impressive and we definitely did not regret seeing it. In a way, even better than Sacre Cour even though Sacre Cour looks prettier. The cathedral architecture is unique in the sense that there is no traditional transepts, it’s rare that you find a church so square looking without a peak “trying to reach out to God”. Also one of the oldest cathedrals in France, they still retained free entry for us to view the magnificent stained glass windows inside the building. The priest was also a very nice man who gave us reading material to learn more about the resurrection of Christ. Either a nice man or a man out to convert us all…

Notre Dame Cathedral.

Both of us. Photo taken by a guy who obviously doesn’t like the tops of buildings.

The famed stained glass window.

We were really relaxing ourselves in the cathedral, and took our own sweet time sitting around and talking. In fact, I think Ben was being blasphemous by making fun of church songs while sitting on the prayer benches. We went out after we were good and ready and lined up to gain entry to the tower up Notre Dame to view the great bell and also to get aerial views of the city from a different part of town. We were lining up for a good long time when we realised that no matter what, we were always the last few in the line. There were no longer any people lining up after us. We were wondering why we were so unfortunate when we later found out that there were staff members asking people not to line up anymore because there is a cut-off time for viewing the tower. We were in fact so LUCKY to have started lining up in the nick of time.

Keep in mind that lining up for Notre Dame can be even longer than lining up for the Eiffel Tower. This is because Eiffel Tower has a high turnover rate, and they allow large groups of people to enter at each time. You don’t even realise there’s “grouping” because there’s a constant stream of people entering the tower. For Notre Dame, they let in about 15-20 people at each time, and then there’s a longggg wait for them to be done viewing before the next batch goes in. Therefore, it’s like “only 10 minutes allowed at section A”, “only 5 minutes allowed in the souvenir shop” and so on. This is because the stairway to the tower is soooooo narrow that only one person can pass by at a time. The steps are also high, so even if ONE person is unfit and huffing and puffing up the stairs, it will delay the entire group.

As we were waiting, Ben got tired and started squatting down next to me. This friendly Italian old man in front of me somehow found this very amusing and said something to me in Italian. I just smiled and said, “Ben, faster get up lah. People laughing at you ady.” Ben gave me a pathetic look, and then struggled to his feet. The Italian man smiled at him and said something in a rush of words, I didn’t understand, and Ben replied in Spanish, something like, “Oh, it’s my legs. I’m very tired.” SOMEHOW (not sure how), he suddenly asked the Italian man whether he could speak Spanish, and Ben (who spent a year in Colombia) found out that the man could speak fluent Spanish as well because he had spent some time in Argentina. Just like that, the two suddenly became friends while waiting in line.

How to make new friends. SQUAT.

The good part about Ben getting to know Giuseppe and family was that the group of them had just come back from Versailles the day before. We were planning to go to Versailles the next day, but after the kind old man explained to us what everything entailed, our already-tired legs became even mor fatigued. Forgot to mention that I was walking around on bloodied feet by this point because of my “night adventures” the day before. While the old man went on and on about how beautiful the gardens of Versailles were and how intricate and gorgeous the palace were, all Ben heard was “40 euros entrance fee” and all I heard was “you have to take the RER (train) and a bus (!!) and there’s a lot of walking around.”

I do somewhat feel bad that Giuseppe & Co took so much time off to try and convince us that the Versailles is such a must-see and instead we took off running in the opposite direction. Well, at least he knows that everything he told us was processed VERY carefully by our brains. (This is why I *would* like to go back to Paris again… because I missed Versailles!)

View from inside a narrow window in the Notre Dame tower.

Aerial view… you’ve had plenty of those.

Ben and I camwhoring discreetly. Everytime we camwhored, Giuseppe would generously offer to help us take a photo.

Gargoyle looking after the city.

Happy!

Eiffel Tower from afar.

Giuseppe & family.

Bell of Notre Dame.

Ben – emulating gargoyles. Sorry, no time to Photoshop in a chicken for you.

Do ya like my Keds? Giuseppe’s daughter did.

Anyway, the climb up the tower is very worth the 6 / 8 euros… nice view of a different part of the city, and we got to see a lot of … erm… gargoyles and the bells of Notre Dame. The whole place is just very pretty to look at.

By the evening, we reached Les Marais, another must-visit area of Paris, where they said the nightlife is good and there’s lots of shopping to be done. However, since by the time I arrived it was late in the evening, most of the stores were closed. Looking at Fripp*star already gave me claustrophobia, and I hadn’t even stepped into the store. There was a lot of interesting looking shops / cafes / nightclubs and hot men (like, insanely hot ok) around, so instead of stuffing myself into the store, I was keen for a lookaround instead.

Welcome to Les Marais.

Restaurants area.

Cute looking bar.

Store that sells clothes for dogs.

Fripp*star. Recommended fashion outlet from various online sources. Which I’ve since learned are never really trustable. 20% trustable only. Hmph.

Souvenir for you. You want?

Wah, I have to say that the concentration of HOT men in Les Marais is damn damn high. But before you single ladies get too excited and start booking hotel rooms in this area the next time you visit… I have to tell you that Les Marais is the gay area of Paris. Hahaha! And we only found out when we had dinner at this place called Sant Antonio. By this time, I kinda suspected something was up… after all, I knew my luck can’t be that good. So many well-dressed, well-groomed good-lookers, walking around with their equally well-dressed and well-groomed good friends. -___-

My first foray into trying to be like the Sartorialist, and obviously failing because I am more like a stalker than a fashion photographer.

Really good looking couple, believe me on this one.
Took photo of the girl because I was amazed at how high her heels were. It’s fcking insane. I was already dying in 2.5″ heels.

Ben says this guy looks like Tim Gunn.

Oh, my favorite pic of all! Summer whites!

Cool guy.

See the guy in front? He’s a cutie.

At Sant Antonio, we sat (were very closely sat next to, actually) this gay couple who were sooooo nice and friendly, srsly. Actually, when they first came, they were so openly a gay couple. They would randomly have huge declarations of happiness and love for each other, which would result in them leaning towards each other for a kiss across the table. I was quite numb to this at this point in time because throughout my time in Paris, I would see people making out everywhere. In the Metro. In the dark alleys. In the restaurant. In the Metro, if there’s one hot couple making out, another couple would be similarly inspired and then start making out as well. T___T

Me in the restaurant. Ben took this photo because he was trying to help me get a photo of the cute waiter in the restaurant next door lol.

One thing that annoys me about Paris is the amount of … buskers. The music is never terribly good, causes dinner conversations to be conducted in raised voices… and after all that, they always expect some of your change and you know, even 0.50 euros is RM3.50 and I’ve never given a beggar that much before, not even if they only have a torso left wtf. Anyway, this group of buskers came up to the restaurant and started playing, and I was so delighted when one half of the gay couple (D) said, “Ugh… I hate them.” Wow, great minds think alike, yo. His boyfriend replied, “Why?” and D went on a tirade about how he doesn’t mind if they are talented, and how he had given his money freely once to this flamenco guitarist because “at least he was doing something different”, but most of the other hacks couldn’t make it. I was so impressed…

… and therefore shocked, that when the busker went around with his paper cup to ask for money, D started patting his pockets, as if he was looking for spare change. The busker waited patiently, with his paper cup of money held out. After quite a bit, D pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit up instead. O_o” The busker shook the paper cup a little to jingle the coins and said, “Monsieur… ? Le’ musique?” and D just shook his head. They were barely out of earshot when D told T, “He thought I was looking for spare change to give them! Fool!” I couldn’t help myself but to burst out laughing, quite ashamed at being caught eavesdropping, but all D did was to wink conspiratorily at me.

For dinner, we had :
a. minestrone soup for starters (it was a cold night, and hot soup is always delightful. Only, this one was only slightly tastier than dishwater and lots of pepper and salt had to be added in to make it more palatable);
b. Sant Antonio’s special pizza for me, while Ben had the eggplant parmagianna;
When Ben’s parmagianna arrived, as always, I took a picture of it first before allowing him to tuck in. However, couldn’t help myself and let out a, “Oohhh.. that does NOT look good.” Actually, I meant it for the picture on my camera, and as you can see, it doesn’t look appetizing, does it? But the next thing I knew, both D&T burst out laughing riotously and D said, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t help hearing that. Hahaha!” Then, patting Ben (confused at the moment) on the back, he said, “Well, it may not look good, but I’m sure it tastes better.”

Minestrone soup, had to add like 1 tablespoon of salt and pepper before it became palatable.

The Sant Antonio special. Pretty good, I’d say.

The eggplant parmagiana – conversation sparker.

Looking back, what I said wasn’t that riotous, but I’m glad I said it as it was an “ice-breaker” to getting to know them. I suppose this is one thing that I like about sitting so near to other people in restaurants. Although you might think it’s cramped and devious of the restaurant to put the opportunity to seat more customers over the customer’s comfort, if more situations like the above happen, then I’m all for it. In the end, we had a very nice, long chat with D&T about themselves, the country, etc. It was very informative. Both of them are hilarious, and not shy at all. T is really proud of his country (T is a Frenchman, while D is actually mixed British + HK chinese) and kept recommending places for us to visit. Ben enjoyed himself insulting American tourists with them, a hobby that I dare not partake in as they haven’t personally affronted me, plus I’m sure my fobby ways are bound to be a good target for stinging rebuttals.

Some funny stuff that D & T said :
D : “… it is all so bourgeois.”
T : “bourgeois, bourgeois… after staying here for 10 years, that’s the only French word you know!”

T : “I love Paris, the only other cities I would consider staying at are New York and Rome. But still, Paris is the #1 place in my heart.”
Me : “Oh, New York. I would love to visit it some day too! But I must admit, I’m a little afraid of the people there, since people keep telling me that they can be quite cold.”
T : “Oh, I have a way around that! All I have to do is tell people that I’m from France, and it’s like a key to their hearts. Suddenly, I’m welcomed everywhere I go!”
Me : O_O”

D : “So do you like Paris so far?”
Me : “Yes… the people here are just so friendly…”
D : “Yup, I have to agree… that is why I … “
T : “Hey! Why are you taking credit for what my people have done for this city?”
D : “SHE SAID THE PEOPLE HERE! SHE DIDN’T SAY ‘THE FRENCH’ ARE FRIENDLY. SHE SAID THE PEOPLE!!”
T : *mumbles disgruntledly to himself*

D : “These French people, when we attack them, they just give up saying ‘I surrender, I surrender’.”
T : “We are so lousy, that’s why we have the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre. Oh what’s that? Oh nothing, that’s just our Arc de Triomphe. *continues mumbling* “

Me : “So how long have you two been together?”
T : 8 months.
Me : *dunno what to say* “Oh… that’s quite a while!”
D : “Yes, for gay men it is. Even though in the 8 months, he broke up with me 3 times.”
T : “Yes, because I kept running back to my old boyfriend. “
Ben : “Well… you must be doing something right since he keeps coming back to you.”
D : “Or something wrong since he keeps going away!”
T : *looks abashed*

They are so funny and darling, seriously! My only regret is that I didn’t take a picture of or with them… *Sigh* Ben kept going on and on about them after that, saying, “Our new found friends D and T.” Before we left, they gave Ben really good directions to a restaurant that they said that we *had* to go to if we like French fine dining. Seeing that a French man would say that the restaurant is good, we knew it was trustable and knew our last night at Paris would be spent in the restaurant recommended by T. I have a feeling that he was a little embarrassed to be caught eating at Sant Antonio, which he agrees, although has a “good atmosphere”, doesn’t really serve good food. Maybe it’s because he thought I was going to rant about how unappetizing the parmagianna here is. (Ben would like to note that it *did* taste nice although it is quite an eyesore).

Oh, another place that you have to check out when you are in Les Marais (other than the men who are not interested in women) is this ice-cream store called Pozetto. I think it’s better than the much-talked about Berthillion. The first time we stopped by, I had some strawberry and lime sherbet. After dinner, both of us had double scoops of pistachio. Another gooooooood thing about this ice-cream store (aside from value-for-money prices and great tasting ice-cream) is the extremely hot guy manning the store.

Cute!

Earlier in the day.

And later that night : Double scoops of pistachio ice-cream when it’s freezing! That’s how much we wanted to eat Pozetto!

If ChowChiauLing was next to me now, she would be beating me while shouting, “Sei hao por, cannot stand you!”*

Before I wind up this entry, would just like to say that we had a funny encounter at the Metro that night as well. We were just stoning in our seats, opposite us was a French couple. You could see that the man used to be very muscular and big-sized in his heyday… now he has a layer of fat covering the muscles, but still pretty impressive. His wife was a woman who seemed to be hating everything around her at the moment, very poshly dressed and her mouth was turned down in disdain. Even though I was sitting opposite her and had nothing to do with her bad mood, I felt like I was shrivelling up under her gaze whenever she swept a look of hate around the carriage. They were both quite old, around 50-60?

Anyway, as we were on the Metro, there was suddenly a lot of commotion, and at FIRST I thought it was the dang buskers again. But instead of some accordian or guitar being played, it was just two girls loudly chanting something in French. Probably, “Gimme your money. All that you’ve got…” One was a gangly, tall girl with multiple piercings and a saunter that suggested inebriety. The other was a very fat girl who had trouble passing through the aisles of the Metro. As she walked pass Dame Sulky opposite me, Dame Sulky muttered something at her. The fat girl leaned in really near to Dame Sulky (like attempting to press her nose against hers) and with a very creepy smile, went “Hmm??” as if she had misheard Dame Sulky. Dame Sulky swatted her away like a fly and then shouted a few choice abusive French words. It must’ve been bad, since Muscular Hubby tried to cover her mouth, but then Dame Sulky swatted his hand away as well.

The fat girl retreated back til she was near her gangly friend and then said loudly and clearly in English for all our benefit : “YOU. HAVE. HURT. MY. FEELINGS. I. THINK. YOU. ARE. CRAZY. YOU. NEED. TO. SEE. A. DOCTOR.”
To which Dame Sulky answered, “YOU ARE OBESE.”

Hahahaha! Actually, I don’t know whether she said “you are obese” or “you are a beast”, but it is such a strange parting shot. And she really wasn’t scared of getting physically harmed by the fat girl and her companion. This, my friends, is the importance of having a bitch mouth and a big husband **. Hahahaha! Ben and I congratulated ourselves on having a free show to watch on our way back to the hotel that night.

* something she said to me pretty often back in college, over the most innocent things
** or a big colleague would be helpful… but sometimes it can work against your favor. The other day I got mad at Raymond because I was gonna get into an argument with this bitchass guy who was CLEARLY in the wrong, and Raymond, instead of agreeing with me, asked me to calm down. WHY!! I was not in the wrong at all! And when we got back to the office, I complained to everyone about how unsupportive he was.
Raymond : “This mad woman wanted me to fight during lunch time! What nonsense is that!”
Me : “If you were a gentleman, once I got out of the car and scolded that guy, you would be right behind me!”
Raymond : “Ya… I would be the one hauling you back into the car and saying ‘Dia ni gila… maafkanlah dia.’”
Damn sial! [[getting riled up again thinking about this incident]]

Being Cultured Part 2 September 21, 2009

I was compiling in my mind these weirdshit conversations that I have with my colleagues, think that it would make a really interesting blog entry. But I think I’ll continue with the second part of day #3 in Paris before I have another short hiatus from travel logs. I had to work today (yes, it’s SUNDAY), but it was alright because my mom pissed me off and I was glad to escape for a few hours. When I got back home, all was well in the world again. Plus, Raymond had to work today as well and he’s always fun to talk to.

This one was damn random. I was getting these messages on my handphone and I wanted Raymond to help me reply them “from a guy’s perspective”. So we were alone in the ATM test lab, I was doing testing when I remembered that I wanted his help. So, while patting the back of my jeans (to search for my handphone), I said, “Eh eh, wait. Can you help me with something?” He suddenly backed away from me very quickly and went, “What! What are you doing!”
Me : *sees handphone is actually on the table* “Oh okay. There it is. Ya, can you see this message and tell me how to reply.”
Ray : “Ohhh…. what the hell. You scared me. Suddenly only started patting your butt and asking me to help you. If it was Mr AIP he would’ve lunged at you and groped you already.”
Me : “WTF. I can’t help it if you have a dirty mind. “
Ray : “YOU have a dirty mind! Who goes around touching their ass and asking for help!!”
T_____T

Me : *only whimpers can be heard.*

Also, the Phytodefrisant hair balm I mentioned and lots of Denblan and Elgydium toothpaste. You *don’t* want to know how much one packet of toothpaste costs. :B Miracle toothpaste, these.

I’m also crazy about Parisian stationery stores. I think they stock up on the cutesttttt things, but they are so expensive that all I wound up with are postcards. -___-” And half of them are for my friends.

The walk down Champs Elysees was sooooo long, and honestly — not much to see. I went into a random Adidas store, and it is soooo expensive. I think it’s THRICE the price of what you can get in Malaysia, not like the designs were absolutely the cutting-edge of sportswear either. -__- Other than that, I don’t remember seeing anything particularly great. Halfway through, we started playing “Guess the Price” to pass the time away. One good thing about all these fancy-schmancy designer store in Paris are that they display the prices of the goods with the items, not like in Malaysia where you have to risk humiliation by stepping into the store and trying to keep a straight face when the sales assistant quotes a ridiculous price for a scrap of treated cattlehide. I’m pretty good at guessing the prices of branded goods — just guess a number that would make you think “Fuck this shit, it can’t be THAT expensive” and still “I could pay for that… IF I starve myself for a coupla months.” They always give you hope.

Interesting building that Ben noticed.

I like the whole “Toulouse Lautrec” look… kinda careless yet chic artwork.

Walking down an avenue lined with trees…

Arrival at Place de la Concorde.

The Place de la Concorde obelisk.

People watching part #1

Very good-looking couple, just take my word for it. I’m in awe with the girl’s outfit. I was already dying / limping in 2.5″ heels.

Took a picture of this couple because they were dressed in top to toe designer togs. I forgot the EXACT brands of what they were wearing, but the guy has on a Roberto Cavalli shirt. The woman – Gaultier dress and Burberry handbag.

Playing the “Guess the Price” game. Sorry, no answers because we forgot the exact amount.

At the end of Champs Elysees, there was the *real* Arc de Triomphe. *phew* we took a few photos before calling it a day. Didn’t climb to the top or anything. Hahaha… think we already got good aerial views of Paris from the top of the Eiffel. After that, we walked down the other side of the Champs Elysees street and was relieved to find Laduree… finally! Although lunch was a scant 2 hours ago, we decided to just get a place in Laduree. Do note that if you just want desserts (their famous macaroons), then you will have to sit outside, where it is PACKED. If you eat their set meals, you can sit inside the restaurant, but the good seats by the windows are usually reserved. We got a place inside the restaurant.

So damn thirsty and tired… carried my trusty TF water bottle everywhere I went.
But the damn thing leaks.. hahaha! That’s how I ended up spoiling Ben’s Me Talk Pretty One Day book. I still owe you a new book, Ben!

Photo op.

Ben acting cool, hiding his tired eyes behind his sunglasses.

Walking down Champs Elysees.

The place is veryyyy plush-ly decorated, but I didn’t dare to take much pictures. Anyway, it’s a you-just-gotta-see-it-for-yourself kind of thing, so thank me for not spoiling the surprise for you. We saw a Chinese guy who was eating alone — the chair opposite him was used to store all his humongous LV, Gucci, Lanvin paperbags. I discreetly kicked my plastic bag full of random pharmaceutical supplies under the table.

As for the food in Laduree, it’s really not half-bad. You know how when a restaurant is famous for the dessert, and the expend a lot on the furnishings and ambience, you think SOMEthing has really got to give, and they might scrimp on the food instead. However, Laduree scores full points for good and affordable food, lovely ambience (and cute waiters) and AWESOME desserts. Definitely another must-eat place here.

For the express menu, one could either choose all 3 entree, main and dessert or a combo of entree and main or main and dessert. I chose to go for the main and dessert while Ben chose all 3. I had the duck with melon and mint, and was very sad when I saw how “moderate” the portions were, but really, it’s just nice. There were 3-4 “coins” of duck meat, and the melon is really a honeydew that has been stewed with mint and sliced. It goes together with the duck wonderfully. As for the dessert, Ben had some very un-photographable pistachio eclair, while I had the delicious iced macarons. Seriously people, I can’t stress enough how the ICED macarons are better than the macarons themselves. Laduree’s macarons really did NOT fail to disappoint. Upon the first bite of the rose-infused macaron, I was already excitedly telling Ben that he absolutely *had* to taste some. I really hope that all of you get to try them too one day.

Even the bread that they serve is cuter than bread served everywhere else.
And softer.

Ben’s appetizer. Forgot what it’s made out of, but apparently it is some sort of souffle with cherries.

Ben’s beef with lychee masterpiece.

Duck with melon and mint. Goes together very well… imagine a chewy yet perfectly cooked piece of meat melting together with sweet honeydew which has been stewed with a hint of mint.

4 iced macarons with sweet sherbet ice-cream.

Outside the store…. remember it, go to it, love it!

After dinner, we bought more macarons to take back home. The “normal” (aka non-iced) macarons are filled with a jammy / gummy kinda center instead of ice-cream. Maybe I was already starting to get sick of macarons, but I really do think the iced ones were better. I remember that cassis is quite nice, but I wouldn’t recommend red fruits or orange blossom. Rose is one of the nicest ones, and toffee ain’t too bad. But rose.. rose I love you. Hehehe.

Now I’m a bit embarassed to write it out, but there’s no other way to tell the rest of the story without mentioning this part — I argued with Ben after we came out of the restaurant over [something very dumb]. Ben’s the type who can’t let a girl sulk in peace, so he kept asking me what he could do to make amends and I said I wanted to sulk in peace. Anyway, we then walked the rest of Champs Elysees in silence, and we wound up at Pont Alexandre III, because I said that I wanted to watch the sun set over the Seine over Pont de Arts. Technically, by the time we reached Pont Alexandre III, it was already 10:30pm, so the sun had set a long time ago, and Pont Alexandre III is obviously not Pont de Arts. If we had tried to walk to Pont de Arts, our legs would’ve given way. Anyway, it was a nice bridge, and I spent some time walking up and down and taking pictures of the view from the Seine.

When I was ready to go, I suddenly looked around and Ben was no longer around! I was damn pissed, because when we arrived at Pont Alexandre III, we were still sorta- kinda mad at each other, so when he disappeared, I thought he was mad that I was taking sooooo long with the picture taking (hands need to be super steady to take night scene mah), that he went off without me. I had nooooo idea where I was except that I could see the Eiffel Tower, and I reckoned that that would be where I would head to. Ben had the map and everything, so I thought he was being extra cruel to do this to me. Plotting his death while I stomped up and down the bridge one more time looking for him, I decided to “I’ll show him! I’ll walk to the Bir-Hakeim stop near the Eiffel Tower and then go back home!”

Keep in mind that it’s about 11:00pm by this point.

With no idea where I was headed to, and with few people around, I was scared, but I put on a brave front and kept walking “Eiffel-wards”. The thoughts of killing Ben kept me warm for a while, but as I kept on trudging (suddenly realising I had hundreds of Euros on me and was an easy target to be robbed), my thoughts would waver between killing him to begging for his forgiveness to giving him the cold shoulder and then to laughing over it, in a very “haha, this is such a funny thing, finding a metro in the dark!”. I think that’s the only thing that kept me putting one foot in front of the other as I kept my eyes peeled for an underground train station.

It was halfway through, completely lost and beginning to feel frightened that I got a call from Ben. Apparently he was still at the Pont Alexandre III bridge, stomping up and down looking for me. T____T It was only I who thought that he would be mean enough to dump me there when only I would get ideas like that. T_____T However, I was too far away from Pont Alexandre III bridge and completely lost. Don’t even know how to get back there, or whether my feet could take it anymore. T____T Even though he asked if I would like him to find me, I didn’t really know where I was, and I didn’t dare to stand still in the dark until he found me. T_____T So I told him no, and kept walking.

Despite learning “Excusez moi, ou est l’Metro?”, I didn’t find a friendly enough face for me to stop and ask … so I kept walking, kept telling myself once I reach the Eiffel, all would be good because there are LOTS of Metros there. I think the Metro closes at 12am, so I was begging that I would find one, latest by 11:30pm. Cutting it too close would result in me not being able to catch an interchange or something. Thankfully, one random bearded dude stopped me to ask me if I was a tourist (wtf) and then asked if I knew the way to Champs Elysees. I find that so odd, y’know? Like, yes I am a tourist THEREFORE I know the way to Champs Elysees? I pointed him vaguely to where I came from, and since he spoke English, I quickly asked if there was a Metro nearby. Of all the luck in the world, there was one just across the road from where we were standing, and if not for bearded old man, I wouldn’t even have seen it because it’s one of the smaller stations, and quite hidden.

In total, this is how much I walked from Pont Alexandre III :

Doesn’t look like a lot, but Google maps estimates that to be about 2.3km. Don’t ask me why I missed the obvious Metro right near Pont Alexandre itself, and why I took such a roundabout way to arrive at Pont de l’Alma.

When I got back home, I saw Ben himself had just arrived, so he was also tired out from walking the entire night. Fighting is so pointless, and waste of time and energy. Really regret it… and though Ben said, “Don’t mention it.” I cannot help but say “I AM SORRY!!!” again. T___T Not only because of the whole madness that ensued after that, but because of “the incident” that occurred when I went back to the hotel alone. T____T

There are not enough T_____T icons to illustrate how regretful I am over the whole incident. Haih… the only thing that marred my trip in Paris. *ends entry on sombre, sad note*

Being Cultured September 20, 2009

Lots of pictures in this entry because I went to the Lourve on the 3rd day in Paris, and there are just too many pictures there to share within one measley entry! On the 3rd morning in Paris, Ben was dead to the world and told me to go to the Louvre by myself because he could not wake up before noon. THE LOUVRE OK!! After my travels around Paris, the only tourist attractions that I would visit again are the Louvre and the Eiffel (only to view from afar, not to go up again). It’s THAT good… and this guy didn’t want to go! Sigh… anyway, I didn’t want to pressure him, and semi-confident about my navigational abilities, I forged ahead.

Once I arrived at the Louvre, I was already lost. Hahaha. I’m so blur —- I didn’t know that the entrance to the building is via the Pyramides (Ben later said, “I didn’t give you directions on HOW to enter the building cos I thought EVERYONE knew that. I didn’t know there were people that don’t…”) … that’s how lost I am. I ended up walking around the whole parameter of the building before realising oh so THAT’S how you get in! Along the way, I saw the Jardins de Tuilleries (Royal Gardens) — which wasn’t impressive at ALL and the mini Arc de Triomphe. I’m not sure what it’s called. In fact, at first I thought the mini Arc was the real thing. Was so impressed with myself that I would be able to cover the Arc d’Triomphe, Jardins de Tuilleries and the Louvre before Ben even puts on his contact lenses. Hahaha!

Pyramides, surrounded by the Louvre and Tuilleries Palace which I didn’t know how to get into wtf.

Is the entrance here? *continues walking* (Louvre courtyard)

Jardins de Tuilleries. Unimpressive, to say the least.

Finally, I’m in! This is the view of the outside world from INSIDE the Pyramides.

Of course, I couldn’t cover the whole of the Louvre. It’s impossible. Even if I spent a week here and went to the museum every single day, I wouldn’t be able to see everything they house. So for my first visit, I covered the sculptures on the Ground floor of the XXX gallery, most of the Italian renaissance paintings and a smattering of the French and Spanish ones. Before I came here, I vowed to get myself an audio guide so that I would know more about each masterpiece, and learn to appreciate it more. However, I was so late that the audio guides were actually OUT OF STOCK. T__T I know that they come and go as people return them… but I’ll be damned if I were to wait around for it… after a while I just looked at the paintings and literally just took things a face value.

The hall with all the sculptures.

At first, I took pictures of almost everthing I saw, even things like this, which though nice, are not SPECTACULARLY BREATHTAKING, which is what we are all looking for, innit?

The 4 statues of a man looking at his twisted cock. All identical. Donno what it’s supposed to represent also.

I found it interesting that there were so many sculptures where the “adult form” seems to be denying some kind of pleasure to the child next to it.

My favorite sculpture — Psyche revived by Cupid’s Kiss. It’s based on a Greek mythology, about how Cupid falls in love with a gorgeous mortal named Psyche. They go through a lot before getting the blessing of Venus (Cupid’s mom) to be together.

Up close. Such feeling…

Hermes. Messenger for the Gods.

Hercules kills the Hydra.

Paintings galleries. Mainly Italian paintings in this section, but a few famous ones by Spanish and French artists.

Even the ceilings are intricately decorated and painted.

After a while, I decided that my mission would be the find the most disturbing / strange paintings that I could find :

I forgot the name of the artist who painted this picture…. but I like his style. Always very weird and disturbing. Hahaha.

Portrait of Napolean. I only found it funny how they ALWAYS make the horse foam at the mouth in the pictures. Like Napolean randomly posed for the portrait after running his horse half to death.

“Go on now… kill your husband.”

Dunno what’s happening here, but I am amazed at the style.

This is : “The Coronation of the Emperor Napoleon I and the Crowning of the Empress Joséphine in Notre-Dame Cathedral on December 2, 1804″

Another famous one.. forgot the name to it, but it’s something about Freedom stopping wars or something. *Blur*

I like the way the light reflects off the torso of the reclining man.

Random wtf picture. Flying monks? (And only his upper body… ish…) Wonder what the artist was thinking when he painted this?

The crucification of Christ is a popular theme during the era.

I  didn’t know that Salome was a story from the bible! Ben told me it was a story written by Oscar Wilde, hahha! So I was shocked when I saw so many pics of Saint Jean Baptiste in the Louvre . (Me thinking: “Hmmm.. I think Oscar Wilde plagiarised that story from someone… and now I have the proof.” WTF).

This is supposed to be a portrait of Cleopatra. Do not know the relevance. Hahaha.

Another wtf painting. Women with bare bosoms, birds and babies frolicking around. And soldiers being peeping Toms. Hmm..

All in all, I only walked around TWO floors — that’s why I’d come back to this place again. Out of all the “absolute must sees” in the museum, I only really really adore the sculpture of Psyche revived by Cupid’s Kiss. The Mona Lisa is probably the most photographed painting in the place, but I really do not know how to appreciate it. When I was a kid, I asked my parents what was so awesome and genius about this painting, and they said, “Oh, from whicever angle you look at it, Mona Lisa seems to be smiling at YOU.” Erm… no, I don’t think so. Ben says that it’s because of the mysterious yet knowing smile on her face — so what? Itulah dipanggil senyum tersipu-sipu. So many people do it. Then there are apparently debates about Mona Lisa supposedly being Leonardo da Vinci as a woman. WTF?

A famous painting that was hung opposite the Mona Lisa… “The Wedding Feast at Cana”.

Famous Spanish painting called “The Club-footed Boy.” Don’t see what’s so special about it anyway.

Nah. Mona Lisa.

Had to “bersesak-sesak” to get this picture ok. It’s such a pity. A famous painting, but no one can go up close to appreciate it nearer.

The Raft of Medusa…. another disturbing piece. From the Louvre official site :
“Romanticism’s manifesto, this work caused a huge scandal at the Salon of 1819. For the first time, an artist had depicted an event from contemporary history without having received a commission and had filled his composition with anonymous figures in a format hitherto reserved for historical painting. Precursor of the critical spirit that so often motivates art today, the subject was a caustic statement on the government then in power: in 1816, the frigate “Medusa” sank because of the incompetence of a captain who had obtained his post through political relations. Due to a shortage of lifeboats, 149 people piled onto a raft that drifted for twelve days. Only fifteen survived the ensuing slaughter, madness, and cannibalism.

Seen from one corner, the raft appears very unstable, while two diagonals heighten the dramatic tension: one leads the eye to the vast wave that threatens to engulf the raft, the other leads to the tiny silhouette of “The Argus,” the ship that eventually rescued them. This long oblique line evokes the tragedy — the torso of a man who has perhaps been devoured by his companions — and the various psychological states of mind: the dejection of the bewildered man holding his dead son, the dying man rising up with a start, and the desperate hope of those waving to their potential rescuer. But at this point in time, nobody knew which way the scales of fortune would tip. The only hero in this poignant story is humanity, and that is what still moves us today.”

Narcissist.

Michaelangelo’s “The Dying Slave”.

The Venus de Milo. Famous because of the “drapery” style at the bottom half of the statue which was apparently very advanced for its time.

I forgot the name of the “garden” with all the sculptures and statues… but it’s very beautiful and just too many masterpieces to look at…

Lovely.

The only piece of art that I camwhored with, cos it’s just toooooo odd. Hahaha. This is Hercules, killing something again. What a brute. ;P

Umm, yah there he goes again.

View of the Pyramides from inside the museum.

Napolean’s Apartments.

The whole outing really makes me appreciate paintings more, and also … the artists. What drives them to create? How was life back then for them? Who commissions them to paint these weird and horrible scenes? Who are / would you consider as the Michaelangelos and Matisses of today? Will we only recognise their talent when they are dead and gone?

By 2.30pm, was done with the Louvre — after a mere 3 hours. I invested in a Louvre calendar to continue the attempt in turning me from a Philistine into a cultured human being. Hahaha :

Met up with Ben, and we proceeded to walk to Champs Elysees after having fun camwhoring around the place.

Ben at the Mini Arc de Triomphe, haha.

And I! Ben said I have “legs that belong on a stallion” in this picture. -_____-”

Touristy picture at the Louvre courtyard.

Awwww I like this picture!

Before actually reaching Champs Elysees we first had lunch! Again, we went for a restaurant listed in his trusty list – Au Pied de Cochon. The place looks very classy and chic, so we went in eagerly. It didn’t seem TOO expensive either, since it had an express menu (which is usually a set meal offering either entree and main for a set price, or add in a dessert for a little extra). The maitree’d was very nice, but the waiter who attended to us was extraordinarily unfriendly. He was very brusque and seemed like he couldn’t spare us his time because he thought we were poor Asians. (I’m not saying we are not, but we are decent tippers.)

This is where a vicious circle starts – waiter is mean because he thinks Asians are bad tippers. This causes the enraged Asian to NOT tip because he’s being unfairly treated, thereby reinforcing the waiter’s belief that Asians are not worth being attended to. Maybe I’m just being too paranoid / self-concious.

Pretty restaurant. But found it wasteful that they had all the lights on when it was soooo bright in the afternoon.

They advocate cruelty to swine.

We both had French onion soup to start – a humongous bowl that instantly made us 70% full. It was alright lah … nothing spectacular, but not rubbish. Then we shared a plate of escargots to further whet our appetite. Unlike in Malaysia, where the favorite way to cook the snails are to drench them in a thick butter and garlic sauce, the French sautee it in some mint kind of sauce, which serves to enhance the slug’s taste, not hide it. It was ok lah… but I’ll stick to my garlic butter escargots next time!

After that, we just chatted and joked while waiting for our mains to arrive (both of us ordered steak — perhaps inspired by the previous day’s excellent steak at Verse Toujours)… now I know I said that the waiters take their time serving you because they want you to relax and chat between meals. They don’t serve you like lightning, so at least you won’t feel like you are being rushed out of the restaurant. But for this case, it was pretty ridiculous. After a very extended wait (where the waiters seem to be hiding), we were finally asked if we wanted the bill wtf. It was only then that they realised that we hadn’t even had our mains yet. -___- And thus begins another longggg wait.

In the end, the steak was a disappointment. So salty, but at least the portions were big. Nothing special, unlike the Verse Toujours one. Ben was already annoyed that the waiter didn’t even bother to ask him how he wanted his steak done. For me I don’t carelah because I always want it at the “usual” medium-well. So I didn’t notice they forgot to ask. Anyway, the waiter also tried to overcharge us, so we left without tipping him. Ha! This is one good aspect about tipping. Wish we could abolish service charge in Malaysia. I like holding back tips from being who don’t deserve ‘em. XD [And it's a pleasure too, to give more when you can see that they bust their butt to make sure you enjoy your meal...]

French onion soup.

Mint-sauce covered escargots.

Steak and fries.

My secret love child. Hahaha. Isn’t he sooooo adorable?

Another funny moment which we encountered at Au Pied Du Cochon was this Chinese family sat next to our table, the father with stacks of travel how-tos printed out and the mother carrying another stack of travel documents. They had two sons… should be at most around 10 years old? The mom was carrying flight itineraries using MAS so we stopped talking in Malay (we talked a LOT in Malay… private mah. Those who diss Malay as a “useless” language will be so relieved that you have this language to fall back for private bitching when you’re in a foreign country WTF) and eavesdropped. The family spoke in mandarin, but had a thick accent, to me sounded like they came from China. Ben was still doubtful, so we talked less and eavesdrop more.

Anyway, when the menus came, Ben said that the father ordered on express menu set (entree and main), and when the waiter asked, how about madam / de lil brats? The father said THAT’S ALL. Zomg… want to dine at high class place but can’t afford it then you might as well eat large portions of bread, at least your kids won’t go hungry. -___- I also heard the father tell the son, “This place charges you for the water, so I didn’t order anything. You have nothing to drink, ok.” WTF #2.

Okay, I’ll stop here for part one. Continuing part two soon, promise!