Buvez Orangina!

More rain yesterday. I'm a bit fuzzy this morning after a big dinner last night and two martinis at Buddha Bar in the afternoon. I guess I should have been drinking Orangina, in which case, according to this surreal advertissement in the Gare de l'Est metro station, I would be leaping around like a muscular lion-man. I think I can manage to hammer together an adequate blog post, though.

Dave and I began our day walking to the top of Montmarte, from which there are incredible views of Paris. I can't even imagine how much it would cost to rent an apartment up there. It's funny that it used to be the Bohemian, artistic quarter -- seems like the bourgeois millionaires would have moved in long before the artists.

We walked downhill, along the Boulevard de Clichy and through the Place Pigalle, the center of Paris' neon-lit sex shops, where the facades made for some good photos. Then we took the metro to the Place de la Concorde, where we caught an open-topped bus for a tour through the city. We like those bus tours -- even though they're kind of cheesy, they provide a good overview. I saw a couple of things I didn't see at all on my previous visit, like the Opera and the Place Vendome.

When we were frozen through and damp from a couple of hours in a sporadic, drizzly rain, we repaired to Buddha Bar, a dark grotto containing a huge Buddha statue beneath softly glowing chandeliers. Despite wildly overpriced drinks, it's one of my favorite bars in Paris.

Dave did some research to come up with an ideal Paris bistro for dinner, and we settled on Chez George's on the Rue du Mail. It was fabulous -- delicious food (sole in a white sauce for me, entrecote of beef for Dave) and not at all overly opulent. No crazy toothless guys, either.

And now, I must go find some coffee. I would weep with joy if a coffee maker materialized before me. Seriously.