C’mon, hurry up! It’s
almost 5 o clock and I’m sure they’re going to close soon. This was the cry of a desperate person. A
woman in need. A hard working
professional that had no time to waste.
We gotta get them, or else… this
was war…
My first cousin, more
like my little sister I should say, came with me to one of my business trips,
to nowhere else but Paris. Day after day
I woke up early, got ready for work, and she stayed in, licking her wounds,
sleeping over her past. Waiting for me to go out and discover together new
places and stories, taking pictures – both mental and digital- of a city that
had so much to offer. After a full week of bonding, laughing, weeping, spending
long nights not really sleeping but holding real deep conversations, we knew
that we will remember this week forever.
What is Paris if not a
gourmet extravaganza of all sorts? Wine
by the bottle? Check! Croque monsieur on
demand? Check! Grand Marnier soufflé? You bet! Every day a new restaurant or
café, Walking off the calories and sucking in the love. It was a week that
tasted like a life time.
Right around the
corner from our hotel in gorgeous St Honoré, there was a little jewel – a
Pierre Hermé Macaroon shop… for those who are not familiar with the concept, a
macaroon is a French (some say British actually) biscuit that is soft as a cloud
and smooth as an angel (like I’ve ever tasted or touched an angel or a cloud,
right?). Anyway, in this place, they have the most amazing macaroons not only
for the perfect crispy yet melting in your mouth meringue, bright multi color
array of round marvels, but for the unique fillings: from classic pistachio to
sweet rose petal, green tea, jasmine, passion fruit & chocolate, lavender,
coffee, guava, Tahitian vanilla. I’ve
tasted them once, my cousin bought a sampler box as a midnight snack and then I
was hooked. We got to buy a box for the folks back home (ok fine! And for us right here).
Friday afternoon of
our last day in town… too many things to do, too little time! Left the office and got to the room. Cousin
was back from her shopping spree – the bags around gave the room the look of a
Harper’s bazaar photo shoot. I’ve changed my working clothes, took her by the
hand and left the place like there was no tomorrow (because there wasn’t for us
in Paris!). Once we arrived to the hotel front door, there it was: a super gray
sky and a super heavy storm pounding the sidewalk like bullets. Oh my, what are
we going to do???? The front door bellman told us: Mademoiselles, you wait,
raining much, you wet (maybe his English wasn’t that bad, but that was all I
could hear between my desperation and the sound of city rain). I took a deep
breath, along with a glance at my watch, and made up my mind: Do you have
umbrellas, monsieur? We are taking off! You sure, madam? Just wait and it will
slow down… yes, I AM SURE! The macaroon place was not going to shut its doors on
me!! So there we went, one big umbrella for each other, me taking the lead and
cousin walking as fast as she could to catch up with yours truly – little
frantic me, short as I can be but determined as much – power walking thru the
curtain of Parisian water falling from a
crying Napoleonic sky.
It was only two blocks
from the hotel indeed… two LONG, WET blocks looking like distance looks like in
dreams; the faster we walked the further it went. I never looked back, I was
sure cousin was right behind… it never occurred to me how this rushing thru the
rain holding a huge umbrella was hysterical for the viewers, especially for the
one in front row (yes, cousin back there). Every step I took, bouncing the huge
cover up I was holding with all my strength, she was getting twice as wet: once
from the rain, twice from the water flowing from my umbrella!! My little feet were soaked of course, and that
was making me even more frantic. I was moving my short legs faster by the
minute and the huge umbrella was covering pretty much my whole self – it was
like looking at a video game, I was the Super Mario Bro’s mushroom rushing thru
one of their strange world being chased by a carnivorous flower.
Finally, we arrived!
Pierre Hermé was still open, we pushed the door so hard it hit the wall and got
in dripping and laughing… crying-laughing actually… do you know the
feeling? It took us a good full minute
to realize that the nice French employees were there, observing these crazy
foreigners in awe. After recovering from
the laughter attack, 5 minutes tops, we started to explain ourselves, to
justify our desperate journey in the rain, perhaps looking for a slight sign of
empathy, when suddenly… the rain… magically… STOPED!!! Just like that, not even
slowed down, oh no. The rain was gone. Gray clouds opened up to a crispy clean
almost sunny afternoon. “This is Paris in the summer, madam” they said… this is
how stupid must look like in French, I thought.
Macaroons we bought,
oh yes. A box for here and some more for the go. Wet pants and soaking flats
made me feel super uncomfortable. But it was totally worth it. From that day
on, cousin and I developed an intense love for sweet treats, a huge need for
accomplishment, and above all, a superior sense of urgency for the things that
matter the most: the small, crazy,
unplanned things that make you laugh your guts out, the ones that create
stories, those small details that make life worth living.
To my beautiful Paola, on our Paris trip's first anniversary (almost!)
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| Love you to hell and back, and that's far!! |
