Charming Marais I
I first fell in love with the Marais district of Paris in 1998.
I was coming to Paris via Geneva, Switzerland, where I had left my 11 year old daughter in a summer camp at a school called Le Rosey. It was the first time she was going to be away from home, and I was a bit anxious about it. Friends had assured me that the school was a great place for girls to learn French fast. I knew it had a good reputation, but still… It’s a long way from home in New York, I was thinking all along.
Knowing how I was feeling, my friend Sherry decided to come along to help. Our plan was to come back to New York via Paris, after spending few days in the French capital. I would make sure my daughter was fine in Geneva, before returning to the US. It was also a good excuse to see Paris again, of course.
The night before we left Geneva, Brazil lost the world soccer championship to France. I was born in Brazil, and soccer is a serious business for us. Needless to say, I was not in a good mood leaving Geneva.
We got to Paris in the midst of huge commemorations. Our taxi driver decided to bypass Avenue des Champs Elysées, which - he said - was chockfull of people going crazy about France’s victory over Brazil. He then left us at our Ritz Hotel, but even that normally quiet heaven was in a festive mood - I had never seen so many French flags on Place Vendôme.
It was at the Ritz that we first heard of a restaurant called L’Ambroisie, one of the ‘tres grandes tables’ of Paris, assured us the concierge. They were fully booked for dinner that night; would the ladies be interested in lunch the next day? Yes, we were. “Anything”…
I felt better the next morning; a night at the Ritz can cure me of any woes. The always perfect doorman put us both on a taxi and told the driver: “Place des Vosges”. I remembered from French classes that Place des Vosges had been the residence of French writer Victor Hugo, of Les Miserables fame, but I was not familiar with it. We were in for quite an experience…
One enters Place des Vosges through vaulted arches that separate it from the rest of the Marais area. It is the oldest square in Paris, a perfectly symmetric square surrounded by houses with the exact same facade. The feeling is of being back to the Middle Ages - finished in 1612 to commemorate the wedding of King Louis XII with Anne of Austria, the square and the houses around it were built with red bricks and strips of yellow stone resting over square pillars. For centuries these were the homes of the French aristocracy. Easy to see why.
Our lunch at L’Ambroisie didn’t disappoint, either. Starting with the building itself, a hotel particulier facing the square - antique tapestries on the walls, chairs covered in velvet, wood floors - everything reminded of old world elegance and of a different, more refined era. The food was extraordinary; each new serving opened the way to new tastes and nuances never experienced. The plates were so beautifully presented, that at a table next to ours few Japanese gentlemen – all dressed in identical blue suits – were filming it all. As soon as the waiter placed the food in front of them, each man would get a camera, point it to his plate, and start recording. We were so amused by the scene we could not help watching. Even the cooks came out of the kitchen to look.
After dessert, a waiter brought us a tray of cigars to choose from. Visibly confused as to whom to offer them first, as cigars are always offered to men, he clearly felt better when Sherry told him “we don’t smoke cigars, thank you. Our husbands do, but they could not be with us today”. We all laughed at the sign of relief on his face.
This was a long, delicious and memorable lunch, one never to be forgotten. Leaving that temple of great food and getting back to the ‘real’ world, we took time to walk around the Marais. Charmed by its beautiful architecture, we were at the same time surprised at how lively, modern and hip the area was. It is full of art galleries, bistros, brasseries, special boutiques and people from all over the world. We just loved it, and vowed to go back some day.
It wouldn’t be this time I would see the Marais again. Back at the hotel, there was a message for me: my daughter was not happy in the summer camp, and needed to see me. Immediate change of plans: I would be on the next train back to Geneva. As for Sherry, she decided to go to London visit her Wellesley friends who live there, before returning to New York.
Never a dull moment, I thought to myself, as my train slowly left Paris…