I arrived on Friday morning, the snow started Friday evening. Innocent, beautiful white flakes. Aren't they pretty? we all said on our way to an apéritif dînatoire. By the time we came out, we were slipping and sliding on the sidewalks, not in snow boots, but flats, cute boots, clogs, etc. And it just kept coming down.
My hotel was a 10-15 walk down the Quai de Grenelle from La Grande Dame, so I put on as many layers as I could (luckily, at the very last minute I bought a pair of long underwear at Wal-Mart and threw the pants and long-sleeved shirt in my suitcase) and my Dansko black suede clogs and headed out to see her in the snow. Lots of Frenchie families were out throwing snowballs and slipping and sliding around. She was closed due to the weather, but no one seemed to care. Everyone was snapping photos and laughing.
I had never seen more than just a flake or two of snow in Paris before, so I was happy, but as cold as I ever remember being during my college years in Boone, NC (I am sure it wasn't really that cold, but the wind was blowing and it sure felt pretty darned chilly).
Proof that I was there! I never travel in the winter without my ear band because cold ears are no fun at all. I made it back to the hotel, none the worse for the wear, to warm up before our dinner cruise down the Seine in a heated, covered Bateau Parisien. Managed not to slip and fall, but did get bombarded by snowballs from a balcony and three teen-age boys. The snowballs I saw coming and knew I couldn't do a thing about them, just wave and keep going. But to be called a salope? Really, boys? However, that didn't bother me. How could anything save a broken bone ruin a beautiful Paris snowfall in January?
À plus... more to come! Ah oui... the food was excellent. I was fed foie gras not one, not twice but three delicious times. And champagne, too.
Bon appétit, Mme Eiffel and my new friends from ACIS!
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