When we left you last we had just experienced the Louvre probably quicker than most would like or choose to. This was pretty much the last real scene in our Paris trip, a photo in front of the Mona Lisa...not a bad way to wrap up the City of Lights. Our following morning started off bright and early as usual and we were WAY ahead of schedule on grabbing a quick bite and setting out to make the train to funky London towne (which was scheduled to leave @ 12:15pm with a disclaimer to be at the train station 30 minutes early). So we were in good shape. Right? Maybe too good. I think Carrie had had it with me "out ordering" her. Remember the beef kebab sandwich from the nameless street side vendor? Remember the panini Carrie got? Yeah, it wasn't nearly as good as the kebab and Carrie wasn't making quite as many noises of pleasure while eating it (which is kinda the norm for me...when I'm really enjoying what I'm eating....I moan). So we take our morning of being very ahead of schedule and check out of the hotel and set out across to the other side of city with our one bag a piece in tow for round two of quite possibly the best sandwich I've ever had. Sounds like a great idea, right?
We are approaching said "restaurant" around 10:10am. As we were getting closer I'm pretty sure we both started kinda secretly thinking to ourselves "I bet this place isn't even open yet". As we got closer to where the burgundy awning once was the day before I began to feel like the Tom Hanks character in the movie Big when he pulls up on the bike in search of the magic wish machine. The overwhelming smell of roasting beef was not pouring through the streets, not yet at least. This place is closed up at the end of the day with a garage door, you know what I mean? And this is what we roll up on. A closed garage door. Now keep in mind we had planned on a very leisurely lunch followed by a very leisurely metro ride to the train station. Yeah. We decide we will wait it out. Brilliant.
The garage door isn't shut completely, I'd say about 6 inches from the ground. And we could hear a small amount of noise on the other side, which was assuring. They're not open yet, but they will be opening soon. 10:15 turns into 10:30 which turns into 10:45. Okay. So Carrie and I have fully committed at this point. Let's not forget, we are in frickin' Paris and we could VERY easily walked 50 paces in any direction and had amazing food. But I think, no I know, we would have been let down no matter how good whatever we had settled for was. It was all a mental thing now. We had verbally discussed that we were gonna give ourselves about 30 minutes to take the metro to the train station. The closer it got to 11am we were really giving ourselves about 15 minutes to eat and be on our way. We knew this wasn't nearly enough time to savor the sandwich we had committed ourselves to waiting for. So we say to each other, "we'll just grab a cab and make up for the lost time?!" Totally! We just bought ourselves an extra 20-25 minutes! Brilliant.
After this billiant decision the minutes began to go by like hours. It got to be just after 11 and Carrie and I decided we should probably give a wrap at the door and see if we are completely waiting in vain. So I politely but confidently give a knock on the metal door. The door comes up and our friend from the day before gives us a look of bewilderment mixed with "hey, I remember you" to "why are you here?". Given the fairly severe language barrier, we may never know what that look was. By way of pointing to my watch while I asked "what time do you open" in a loud voice (because that's what you do when you say something in your native tongue to someone you're pretty sure doesn't speak it well) we decided they would be open in 20 minutes. I kinda nod "cool" to him and the garage goes back to it's previous spot. Now. More than any information poorly exchanged in our conversation with this man was the fact that dawned on me upon seeing inside the door. About 50 percent of this guy's cooking setup as well as dining al fresco setup was crammed in this tiny little space. So not only are we waiting till he "opens" we are also waiting until he is set up and "open for business". We get a little shaky after this discovery. But we will not let this harsh reality destroy our perseverance.
Minutes were now going by like days. We keep assuring ourselves that the cab ride will take 10 minutes tops and we are still completely in good shape even at 11:20 when he said he'd be open. 11:20. No change. 11:25. Still nothing. Carrie suggests we knock on the door again which I positively decline. We are REALLY questioning what we're doing at this point. I mean, are we seriously about to miss our train to London, with non-refundable tickets....for a sandwich? But not just any sandwich. A freshly shaved beef sandwich with a secret "samurai" sauce paired with some fries cooked to order. A sandwich worth rolling the dice on missing our train. I turned to Carrie and said "this is about to be the most expensive sandwich we will ever eat". Right about then the doors lifted. The smell of that delicious roasted beef filled the streets of Paris that day my friends. It filled the streets and it filled the hearts of two very hungry Americans. Needless to say the sandwiches were just as amazing as the day before if not more amazing because we were both able to moan over the enjoyment and satisfaction of sticking to our guns and waiting for this lesser known delight that Paris had to offer us. We even had the presence of mind to get a Nutella crepe working as we were finishing up to go on our search for a cab, which was an experience in itself that turned our seconds into years.
Our delight quickly turned into overwhelming panic that we won't be able to hail a cab. And I can tell you this is no way to try and enjoy a Nutella crepe whilst on the streets of Paris. Finally catch a cab and we're pushing noon solidly, can't accurately tell you the time at this point as I felt like we were on a rocket to the moon but in reverse. Longest five minutes of my life. Keep in mind train leaves @ 12:15. And they require you to be there 30 minutes early to go through customs. So we're both pretty confident we're about to spend a few more hours in Paris and drop a couple hundred more dollars, which we definitely can't afford. Carrie jumps out to gauge the gate we need to be at, which she is way better at doing than me. Plus I've got the cash to pay the cab driver. This might have been the only phone call we made outside of the US but it was about to be the most important phone call ever. Carrie broke out sans luggage and I told her I would call her when I got inside which I did (thanks AT&T). Bust ass through customs and run....I mean ruuuuuun to our gate.
We made it to the gate. The train....was still there. We did it. We rolled the dice on having to fork out a couple hundred dollars that we didn't have all for a sandwich. How fricking classic is that shit? Damn good sandwich. Damn good story.
More to come. But who knows when.
Stay tuned....well. Not that tuned. Off to funky London towne!!!
A
