Tag Archives: weekend

Weekend in Paris: Not a lazy Sunday

9 May 2018 My Beautiful Places 2 Comments

When you wake up on a Sunday morning and the second you open your eyes you realise you’re in Paris, you know it’s not gonna be an ordinary boring Sunday. I jumped out of bed barefoot, pull back the curtains and opened the window from the small balcony of my room. I was at the top floor, in a 400 years old building and 200 years old hotel, on Rue Saint-Antoine, in Les Marais, two minutes away from Bastille. What a gorgeous spring sunny day it was! The rush in the street was the sign that a new day has started and I had to quickly become a part of it.

I had already in mind that this 5th visit in Paris to be a little different. I wanted to see the other face of my favourite city, not just the famous places I’m so found of, but the places where tourists and even Parisians don’t usually go for a Sunday walk. So after an amazing Saturday that has ended at 5am, I was determined to discover a few hidden gems in Paris.

The first destination was a street known as the most beautiful street in Paris; happily, it was quite close to where I was and I decided to walk. On my way, I stopped a little at Bastille Market, a flea market opened on Sundays and Thursdays, to wander a bit among the stalls full of regional products, fruits, vegetables, oysters and everything you might think of, and why not, have a cheap and nice breakfast there. The moment I laid my eyes on a stall full of tens of types of cheese, I knew I have met my breakfast: black truffles cheese. I left happy, eating small pieces of divine tasting cheese from a plastic bag.

In 15 minutes I found Rue Cremieux. If not the most beautiful, certainly the most colourful street in Paris. And the most “Instagramed” apparently. I took a few photos, of course… and played with a gorgeous Persian white fluffy cat, who was getting its daily admiration dose while posing in an opened window. Then I headed to Gare de Lyon, at 5 minutes away, to take the metro which was suppose to take me to my next stop: Little Sri Lanka.

The top semi-secret and un-touristy Paris neighbourhood was anything but the fancy city of Paris I knew. The moment I went out from La Chapelle metro station, I was in a different city, on another continent. Shops selling Indian sarees, opulent dresses with large golden necklaces, stones, silk, all shinning and sparkling, right next to tinny shops with spices, old cell phones, accessories, indian food, there it was everything. From men with large moustaches and coloured turbans, eating rice with their hands in small and dark restaurants, to guys sitting in the corners of the streets doing I got no idea what, to women wearing proudly the red Bindi on their forehead. Now I believe those who say in Paris there are parts of it where you don’t feel as in Paris. Even though I did not feel unsafe, I was alert and I wouldn’t risk to walk those streets after dark.

I had one more stop to complete my wish of getting to know Paris better. The 3rd on my list was Belleville. Don’t judge it by the name cause it doesn’t reflect the beauty of the area, which looks more like any city getto, with old grey buildings where no one seemed to live, closed shops with empty windows, small fast foods with no clients and plenty of graffiti. Rue Denoyer is a masterpiece of street art though, with about 30m of walls completely covered in graffiti, with activism messages and photographers trying to get the best shoot of the place.

I was heading to my beloved Montmartre, thinking that it was enough of something else for one weekend, when, passing Jaures and Stalingrad stations I really saw from the train the streets and areas there, where, indeed, I wouldn’t wanna be not even during the day. Groups of young men gathered at the corners of the streets, people, probably migrants living in tents, others sleeping on the pavement. The contrast is striking compared to central fancy Paris.

Right in front of Abbesse I met my friend, who’s living in Paris and for the next 10 minutes he gave me a speech about how reckless I was to wander alone in those areas. Maybe I was, a little, but I always believed you can only feel a city on its streets, but not those packed with tourists.

France

Weekend in Paris: My kind of Saturday

7 May 2018 My Beautiful Places 1 Comment

There are two types of people: those who like Paris and those who don’t. I’m in the 3rd category: I adore Paris! The French capital was the first city I wanted to see abroad and it was love at first sight. And so I came back, again and again, enjoying mon amour during New Years Eve, then in summer, in autumn, winter, but never in spring….

Three years have flown away since my last trip to Paris and I was missing it terribly. So I new it was about time to go back.

It was Saturday, 6am and I was flying to my favourite city for the 5th time, this time, in spring, which is said to be the best time to see Paris. I already knew how to get from Beauvais airport to Porte Maillot and from there, by metro, directly to Les Marais, where my hotel was. It was almost 10 am when I got in Place de la Bastille, coming up from the dark underground in the most beautiful sunny day of spring, with perfect blue sky and trees in leaf and blooming. Imagine the record level of my excitement since earlier that morning I was leaving my town, all covered with 20 cm of March snow-surprise…

Since check-in at the hotel was at 2pm, I left the luggage there and start my weekend in Paris. Wandering the streets in Les Marais I realised it was Saturday morning, so many markets should have been opened. I love those places, markets have recently became one of my must do’s when I’m away. I try see at least one every time I visit a new city, to get a glimpse of how people really live there, to feel the atmosphere, the rush, see the colours, the merchants and of course… taste the foods. Speaking of food, I was already starving when I got to Les Enfants Rouges market (The Red Children), the closest and best reviewed market I found in that area. It was already packed with people, locals, tourists, some very dressed up since it was in the chic Marais, all looking to buy something, either fresh products from the stalls or a lunch from the restaurants around. I saw a few vegetables and fruits I have never tasted. I like this, when a market keeps surprising me like that. It was nice wandering around but I was actually on a mission: eating something, the sooner the better, since hunger is not something I can manage with too much elegance.

But nothing seemed to call for me… and than I saw it. Right there, in the middle, it was a French gentlemen making sandwiches. Huge sandwiches, with tons of ingredients from different sorts of ham and cheese to avocado, tomatoes, lettuce, fried onion, olive oil, fresh basil, champignons… you name it. The way he was preparing each sandwich kept me in place: it was a real cooking show and the dream of any foodie. While speaking to each client, joking and repeating “Miam-Miam”, he was taking with his hands big quantities from each ingredient, one after another, from the many bowls in front of him, building a tower of them, than holding all together between the two slices of fresh bread and fixing the masterpiece with two wooden machete on a big hot plate where the cheese started melting and all the flavours were becoming the best sandwich in the world. Cause, lucky me, that’s what it was according to TripAdvisor. This was Chez Alain Miam Miam. With 5 people in front of me and other 10 behind me in just 10 minutes after, I waited there for an hour, watching Alain doing what people were praising him for so much on the internet. His black t-shirt was all covered with flour and all the other ingredients as he kept wiping his hands on it. I don’t know how the hour passed, I finally got my own best sandwich in the world, with everything you can imagine, and left the market looking for a quiet place to devour it. I found it in Square du Temple, a little park just down the Rue de Bretagne. And so it was by breakfast, lunch and dinner that Saturday, since after that all I could wish for was a big bottle of fresh orange juice and french strawberries, a spoiling moment on a bench in Place des Vosges. That place is so… Parisian and I was glad it was 2 minutes away from my hotel.

In the afternoon I had once again my favourite stroll route in Paris. Leaving from my hotel on Rue Saint Antoine, which changes its name after in Rue de Rivoli, among thousands of passers by carrying shopping bags on one of the most famous shopping streets in the world, passing by the beautiful Paris city hall, Hotel de Ville, walking along the banks of the Seine where people were enjoying a sunny afternoon sitting on the grass, close to the water, where a girl was singing and another was dancing, cause nothing is out of place in this city. Artists on the bridges were earning the bread of that day and I was heading Notre Dame Cathedral just to admire it from the bridges around. I continued walking by the Seine till I reached Pont Neuf and then Pont des Arts, now freed from the weight of all the thousands of lockers put there by lovers coming from everywhere, lockers that were still shining there three years ago.

I entered Louvre interior square. Just as beautiful as I first saw it on January 1st, 10 years ago, when my dream of visiting Paris was coming true and when I wasn’t yet bitten by the travel bug. I love sitting there in front of the large pyramid of glass, on one of the stone benches at the margin, watching people of all nations taking millions of photos. I took one, with the sun in the best position possible.

Spring was at its place in Jardin des Tuileries, right before really starting its colourful and alive show, strong enough though to have the magnolias covered with white or pink flowers and the daffodils looking pretty in contrast with the green grass. Sunset time was closer when I reached Place de la Concorde, with its always busy traffic, The Grande Roue de Paris and the Eiffel Tower rising in the orange horizon. No better place to live a perfect sunset than Pont Alexandre III. Three brides with their grooms were having photo shootings, each having around their teem of advisors for the best shot and the professional photographer.

As the dark was covering the city of love, I was heading to Champs Elysees. Each time I come to Paris this most famous boulevard has something new to show me, like the shop with Arabian perfumes in precious bottles, this time. But also many I already know, that are bringing back old memories. L’Arc de Triomphe was now without the huge French flag dancing in the wind beneath it. This didn’t seem to affect the number of people taking photos here. I crossed half of the boulevard that looked as spectacular as I remembered with all the red and white lights from the cars driving down to Concorde. After a 20 minutes walk on the fancy and empty Avenue Kleber, which stole my last forces, I got to Trocadero. A few years ago, on another Saturday evening, I danced Tango for the first time here, among other couples. The Eiffel Tower was just as bright and I watched it turning its lights off for the Earth Hour.

I did not called it a day, not yet… You just don’t do that when in Paris, on a perfect Saturday night. Went back to the hotel, this time by metro, to save the last drops of energy I had after 20 hours of being awake. Got my red lipstick on and head to Montmartre for another magical midnight in Paris, admiring the top view of my favourite city from the stairs of Sacre Coeur, packed with people at that late hour, strolling on Place du Tertre while all the artist are gone, having a glass of Bordeaux at the old Moulin de la Galette and of course, a French kiss. Or more 😉

Italy

Top 10: My Beautiful Places in Venice

14 April 2018 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

I started writing this list in the first day of spring, in March, at midnight, when outside was snowing with huge fluffy snow flakes. From my window all was white, beautiful and perfectly calm. It was the last and so unwanted winter episode that made (almost) everyone crazy throughout Europe. I thought then it was the perfect moment to mind travel back to Venice, back to the Carnival madness and to my favourite beautiful places there.

I don’t know where time has flown away so fast. Now spring rules the cities and our livers with summer like temperatures, blue sky, blossomed trees and flowers scent in the air. Anytime actually is a perfect moment to remember Venice. Soo…

First, let’s agree something. On blogs, sites, forums are countless tops and lists of do that – and go there – and eat that – and you must’t miss… blablabla. My advice: read and ignore 80%. The rest of 20% that maybe you’ll consider nice to do, you’ll remember for sure. it’s a fact that no one can make a top appealing to everybody. So if you’re not into museums, with long waiting lines, but rather prefer to walk till you drop on the streets, you think shopping while traveling is a waste of time, you chase sunsets and panoramas and are never too tired for a late night walk, you are not afraid of getting lost, you are more likely to choose street food instead of restaurants and you simply can’t say no to ice-cream… than you might find some ideas for Venice:

10. The Carnival. There are two types of Venice: the one during the Carnival and… the other one. Make sure you get to see the first and take part at the feast, because true Venice is during those weeks, when the city goes wild and fancy. You will feel as a time traveler among all those people in costumes of counts and countesses. Buy a mask, wear it and dance in San Marco. I got mine, a beautiful black one, from Zago & Molin, for 15 euro.

9. Best panorama in Venice can be seen in Campanile, the tallest building in the city. The entire lagoon, the Lido, the roofs, all under the majestic picks of the Dolomites.

8. A classic one never hurt anyone. So go for a gondola ride! Take it from Rialto Bridge, go behind one of the most famous bridge in the world and head to the narrow canals with small bridges. See Casanova’s house and enjoy the gondolier’s Italian love songs and stories about the old times. The maximum of people is 5, so if you want to save some bucks, share the ride with other people and you’ll pay 16 euro each.

7. Have some fun getting lost. Venice is a labyrinth. Try finding San Marco without using Google Maps. Start, let’s say, in Piazzale Roma. It’s not so much fun getting lost while searching for a toilet. Been there, done that 🙂

6. Walk. Eat. Enjoy. Repeat. You’re in Italy, it’s pretty hard to have bad food. Well, I did but let’s just call it bad luck. Follow your instinct and maybe check TripAdvisor, if you don’t like taking culinary risks. If you like Neapolitan pizza, try Rossopomodoro, close to San Marco. For ice-cream addicts, Gelato Fantasy is the place.

5. Have a Prosecco at Caffè Florian in San Marco. Established in 1720, it is said to be the oldest café in the world. Imagine all the events that happened in three centuries. The place is not cheap, but it’s worth every penny. During the Carnival, when all the people wearing costumes gather in San Marco, it is an ideal place to admire them.

4. For those who enjoy the vibe, the colours and flavours in the city markets, the best place in Venice is Mercato di Rialto. And I guarantee you won’t leave without buying some fruits or food.

3. Find your quiet place. Escape the noise and find Calle Tranghetto Vecchio, a small dark street. Step into the light, on the wooden bateau bridge built at the end of it, facing a beautiful 180′ view of the Grand Canal. Watch the boats passing and enjoy the view away from the crowds.

2. Midnight walk. Even during the busiest times like the days of the Carnival, you’ll own the city after midnight, when most of the people are already dreaming in their beds. Instead, you’ll live the dream. San Marco is now finally empty, quiet and amazing.

1. Sunset on Rialto Bridge. This is my favourite view in Venice. The palaces, the Grand Canal, the seagulls and the gondolas, all in the orange sunset light. And if you feel like, take a waterside-bar break and enjoy a glass of Italian wine. Now that’s a moment you’ll always remember.

Now all you have to do is buy the tickets to Venice and have some great time in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

P.S. “Never to go on trips with anyone you do not love.” ― Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

Italy

The feast in the city: Venice Carnival

16 March 2018 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

9AM, a rainy Saturday, the first weekend of February. Where would you want to be? I’m sure there are some great answers out there. But guess where I was: in Venice. I was just back from a trip to Northern Norway and the first thought that crossed my mind at 4AM, when the alarm rang, was: What the hell am I doing again? But wanderlust is a serious disorder so at 7 o’clock in the morning I was already flying to Venice, to live the madness of the Carnival once again. It was the second weekend of the event and 4 of my friends were already there.

It was the rainiest of days! 5 euro spend on a too small and too fragile umbrella, the moment I got off the bus, in the middle of Piazzale Roma and the rain, seemed the best business that could have been made that day, at the corner of the street. Wasn’t so, cause the wind was messing up with my investment and my new and useless umbrella was doing anything but protecting me from any rain drops. Mostly was making me crazy! And so, in the pouring rain, with a closed umbrella newly added to my baggage, I was crossing the large bridge build with ground-glass, leaving behind the ordinary real world to enter Venice, a place that looks and feels as if a piece of the past have survived the present. And once I got right there, on top of the arch bridge, among the passers by moving on fast forward, the wind and rain teasing my face, I pressed Pause and stopped. It was too beautiful. The city was now revealing itself: so many bridges, paved small streets by the canals, the colourful buildings, the boats and of course the iconic wooden pillars raising up from the water. And I whispered for myself: Hello Venice, told you I’m coming back…

Rain seemed a minor challenge compared to finding the hotel. This was an endurance test since Venice is indeed a labyrinth. And since Google Maps choose the best moment to have errors of locating me, all I could count on was my poor space orientation. After crossing 6 bridges, walking in circle and saying a few curses, I reached the destination.

One hour later I was outside the hotel, on the large street heading to the centre, to San Marco. I took a deep breath of the cold humid air. The rain had stopped but the streets were still almost empty. How scary rain can be! I was starving so I entered the first bar with the green TripAdvisor sticker on the door, dreaming of a delicious Italian focaccia. Inside, two asian ladies were busy serving at the bar. I thought maybe this was not a good sign but I didn’t want to be rude and leave. And so, politeness served me the worst possible sandwich: fast-food bun, mozzarella, lettuce full of water and tasteless tomatoes. But no way a sandwich could spoil my mood. And all I could wish for was to wander the streets, all of them. Hearing that my friends were busy buying Italian leather bags on sale, I couldn’t be more happy. So I could enjoy the city by myself. A bliss!

With every minute the streets were more and more crowded, people were coming out from everywhere, like mushrooms after the rain. I was walking straight on. The large street with tiny restaurants and stores on each side was now too small as the human wave was heading to Rialto Bridge and San Marco. Among the crowd, I started seeing the first people wearing carnival costumes, either couples or small groups of friends. Each time I couldn’t help myself to stop and admire. The noise was growing, bringing together talks and laughs. And so, without realising, I entered the Carnival’s atmosphere and I indulge myself in its magic.

Tight streets looking like secret corridors were escaping from the large street of which, all of us, strangers, were now part of. I managed to creep suddenly to the right, don’t even know why I did it. After a few meters of walking through the small space left between two buildings, in almost dark, I got to the canal and into day light. A wonderful 180′ view opened in front of me, just for me, as I stood there alone, for minutes, on the wooden bateau bridge. Boats were passing by the colourful buildings with beautiful windows, offering a postcard view of Venice. And there was silence.

I was heading to Rialto Bridge when something amazing just happened: out of the grey cloudy skies, the sun came out suddenly. I quickly went up the stairs of the bridge, among the crowd, running to get to see this view before the sun disappears again. And WOW, was indescribable! The view of the Grand Canal with all those gorgeous colourful venetian palaces, the black elegant gondolas floating slowly back and forth, the small restaurants by the water, the wooden pillars raising out of the water, the seagulls flying high and on top of all, the sun sending rays of light through a small window of clear sky in the clouds. It was sunset, one to admire and to remember.

As I was getting closer to San Marco, the streets were more and more grouped, smaller and smaller. I wandered each one I liked, letting myself guided by wanderlust only. Of course I got lost and of course I loved it. I crossed more than 20 bridges and walked even more paved streets. Getting lost on the small streets of old Venice, stepping from one to another and than another until you start recognising places, is the only way to really feel this unique place. There were people in costumes, wearing masks, everywhere you looked. Counts and countesses, dukes and duchesses, in velvet or silk, with lace and embroidery, with silver white tall wigs or large hats with big feathers, jewels and opulence. Masks were sold everywhere, in traditional ateliers or on market stalls, thousands of models, from 5 euro to hundreds.

This was not 2018 anymore. We were back in time a few hundreds of years before. If there’s a place where you can travel through time, that’s Venice during the carnival. And San Marco was the stage of the event, where all the magic characters of the carnival gathered to be seen, admired, complimented and taken pictures with. There was no other place I wanted to be.

Later, when my feet couldn’t take it anymore, I met my dear noisy friends in a restaurant close to San Marco and presented them with great pride the hand crafted black colombina mask I have bought from a traditional atelier, Zago & Molin. We all left the restaurant wearing our masks, ready for a Saturday night in Venice during the Carnival and many reasons to come back again.