Paris, bêtise et décadence

"Ne pouvoir se passer de Paris, marque de bêtise; ne plus l’aimer, signe de décadence." 

                                            Gustave Flaubert

Odio Parigi. Odio le grandi avenues piene di turisti, i ristoranti italiani sempre affollati, le frotte di turisti che si aggirano spensierati con grandi borse LaFayette. Odio Parigi. Odio i luoghi comuni, la falsità dei sentimenti assoggettati al profitto, odio i turisti che passeggiano nella metropolitana quando tu corri per andare al lavoro. Odio le strade sporche e tirate a lucido al tempo stesso, odio i cliché, odio la fila per qualsiasi cosa.

Amo Parigi. La Parigi che vive, che respira; la Parigi che lavora, che soffre e che ama. La Parigi che le reflex non vedono. Amo Parigi. La Parigi che non è segnata sulle cartine. Le gallerie nascoste, come galerie Vivienne. Amo la parigi della baguette tradition, dei macarons color sabbia che sprigionano profumo di pesche e di giorni d'estate anche in pieno inverno. Amo parigi. Quella che mi aspetta, quella che abbraccia me e Quentin ad ogni nostro ritorno, con il calore degli amici che non vedi da tempo e che non hai dimenticato.

Amo parigi.

EN. I hate Paris. I hate the great avenues full of tourists, the Italian restaurants always packed, the crowds of tourists who wander carefree with large LaFayette bags. I hate Paris. I hate cliches, the falsity of feelings subdued to profit and money-making, I hate tourists strolling down the subway when you run off to work. I hate the streets dirty and polished at the same time, I hate cliches, I hate having to wait in line for anything.

I love Paris. The Paris that is actually living, breathing, and the Paris who works, who suffers and loves. The Paris that the camera can not see. I love Paris. The Paris that is not marked on maps. The hidden galleries, like Galerie Vivienne. I love Paris when it smells like baguette tradition or sand-colored macarons giving off the scent of peaches and summer days even in winter. I love Paris. The one that waits for me to come back, the one that embraces me and Quentin upon our return, with the warmth of friends who you have not seen for a long time but have not forgotten.

I love Paris.

Do it in Paris #4: L'à priori thé - Galerie Vivienne

.Yesterday it was raining, a lot. Then for about five minutes it would get incredibly hot and sunny, and then it would rain again. Staying at home was out of the question, and that's where the little wonders of Paris come to the rescue.
.You see, near Bourse (Métro Bourse that is), there is this lovely 19th century gallery, called galerie Vivienne. It is heaven. Or something very close to that :)
.Here you will find, in addition to an idyllic, picturesque architecture, one of the best (and, currently, my favorite) salons de thé in the whole of Paris: L'à priori thé (got it? :D). It is renowned for its scones, for its scented teas, and generally for its home made exquisite patisserie. It is quiet, lovely, charming, just like the waitresses (who make the perfect portrait of the Parisian girl stereotype in my head), and, a rare thing in this city, no one is jumping on you as soon as you finished your plate practically asking you to leave and make room. This is a temple of quiet and tranquility, an ideal rainy Saturday afternoon's abode, that reminded me a lot of my beloved A.M. Sweet in Bruxelles. And the scones (home made and served warm) are to die for.
.I went there with le boyfriend (who else), and we shared a two-scones plate, served with their cream and home made marmalades in a lovely tea service (7E) and a teapot of green tea "Cerisier de chine avec petales de rose rouge" (5,50E for about two cups each). As the Francophones say, une tuerie.
.With your newly found zen, take a stroll in the gallery; you will finde a bouquiniste (a second hand book shop which the bookwarm in me adored), and fashion designers, home decor, alternative toy shops, art galleries... yes, all things cool and branchées.

Le A priori thé is at 35, Passage Vivienne, and the closest subway station is Bourse.