France: Crepe Stand

After hiking up all 669 steps to the 2nd level of the Eiffel Tower, I was ready to kill something.  Or someone.  Namely someone called CL, who recommended that we take the stairs instead of the elevator to save time and a couple of Euros.  

Oh ho ho.  

Very cute, CL.  You don't wanna know all the different ways I cursed you to Hell and back during that leg-cramping, heart-attack-inducing, and not to mention FREEZING COLD trek up.

By the time we got back on solid ground, I no longer cared about life.  I was so over Paris.  I just wanted to curl up somewhere and cry.

From the Eiffel Tower, we made our way to the Jardin du Luxembourg.  Just a little bit outside of the garden, I re-discovered my will to a tiny crepe stand.

The four of us stood there for the longest time trying to decide what we wanted in our crepes.  And once we figured that out, my sister and I took another 10 minutes trying to figure out how to order what we wanted in France.  We finally said, "Screw it", walked up to the window, stumbled through our opening line...and were thoroughly embarrassed when the man responded in fluent English.  That guy was probably laughing at us the entire time he watched us trying to piece together a complete sentence in French.  Sigh.

Anyway, we ordered two crepes.  The first contained smoked salmon, spinach, and cheese:

The second contained ham (jambon!), mushroom, and cheese:

So much cheese!  You can choose what type you want.  We just pointed to two types because we had no idea what was what.

After getting our crepes, we scuttled into the metro station to escape the cold and huddled in a corner to eat them.  Kind of shady, yes.  But you gotta do what you gotta do.

Though the crepes themselves were pre-made and re-heated on the grill, both were delicious.  The smoked salmon one was a bit wet (thanks to the spinach) and the filling was slightly cold, but the spinach and smoked salmon just went so well together.  The ham crepe was warmer and so fragrant and good.

Maybe we were just starving after walking up the Eiffel Tower and anything would've tasted sublime to us.  Maybe.  But all I know is, after finishing those crepes, I was ready to give Paris a second chance.

That sentiment lasted only until my camera was stolen out of my pocket on the metro a few hours later.

Paris sucks.


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