Moscow

While China was not what I expected, Russia kinda was. The flight from Budapest to Moscow was not the most pleasant. The flight attendants were a little bit mean and the men on the plane were smelly, even more so than you would find in Morocco, oddly enough. One guy in front of me almost made me pass out every time he raised his arms or shifted in his seat. The guy behind us wasn't much better, but luckily we were able to adjust the air vents to block his smell from drifting up to our seats. To make matters even worse, the food was absolutely horrid. Probably the worst airplane meals we've ever had the displeasure of tasting. 

As we arrived to Moscow, we were shuttled to an area for transit passengers after our carry on bags were scanned again and passports scrutinized. It was after midnight when we arrived so the food choices were limited.  One interesting thing to note was the huge cans of beer that could be bought from the vending machines very cheaply. 

We were in for a long layover so we tried to get comfortable. A woman in the transit passenger lounge told us that if we ventured out into the main lobby, we would find seats in which we could really stretch out and catch a good nap. We wandered into the airport, but all we could find was these bench seats that looked harder and more uncomfortable than the ones in the lounge that we had just left. The only advantage to these was that they did not have armrest on them, therefore you could conceivably lay down if you wanted to. 

It was pretty empty that time of the morning, so we had as many seats as we wanted. We brought four benches together and tried to get comfortable. The boys didn't want to lay down, they were looking at the hard benches very skeptically, eventually CJ relented and went to sleep while Jacob reluctantly curled up in the corner of a seat and sleep took over. As I drifted in and out of sleep, I heard more people begin to fill up the lobby area. 

Soon I heard a man arguing in Russian. I looked over groggily in the general direction of the voice, and I saw a man taking Leah's bags off of the seat and shooing her away so that he and his family could sit down. Leah was fast asleep when he began his diatribe, so she hadn't a clue as to what was going on. I told her to get her bags and come sit down next to me. Orlando had gone walking with a new found friend on his way to Hurghada who was a little drunk and scared to fly. I had looked the man up and down, he was sweaty, beefy and tattooed. Not someone whom I wanted to confront. So I kept my mouth shut and just had her and Asari move closer to me.

Being somewhat wide awake after that encounter, we watched the hours tick away while waiting to board our flight to Shanghai.  The Baskin Robbins counter was right next to us. Jacob did his best Jedi Mind Trick impression and ended up with some ice cream, along with the rest of the kids. That served to cheer them up a bit.  Another hour or so, and the gate from which our flight was leaving was finally on the board. That being set, we drifted closer to the area to try and find seats closer to the gate. 

Three tiny greasy, garlicky and overpriced roasted potatoes later, we were on our way to Shanghai. And not a moment too soon. 

Boulangeries and Patisseries

Boulangeries and Patisseries are where you can find fresh baked bread and assorted pastries daily. Most boulangeries rarely sell only baguettes and other types of bread; they supplement their offerings with at least a dozen types of pastries. That being said, their are many patisseries that sell only sweet goods, occasionally drifting into the realm of the chocolatier.

In the city of Paris, they are everywhere! Much like in the hoods of urban America where at least one liquor store or storefront church can be found on every block, the same can be said for the boulangerie.

They make an excellent baguette and pear tart, too

The best croissants in the city here 

An inside look

Everyone is always on the go here so to make extra income, many shops sell sandwiches for the busy lunch crowd. This boulangerie had some of the best to be found and we would walk a mile out of the way for them. There was one little catch though, you had to know what you wanted, how to pronounce it, and fast! No time for browsing with 7 or 8 people in line behind you. The woman in the photo is who I referred to as the 'sandwich nazi'. I was always nervous trying order with my rudimentary french, and she had no patience for me.

yummy

bite-size treats

mouth-watering

this was a 'bio' aka organic boulangerie

i thought these were coconut based macaroons, but they are 'macrons', which have no coconut and taste vaguely like marzipan

this shop sells pastries but are more well-known for there chocolates

French Wine

It saddens me to say that Americans, as wine drinkers, have been bamboozled. Lied to. Led astray. One would be pressed to think of a bottle of wine that can be bought in the U.S. for under $10 that not only A. taste good, but B. leaves you without a trace of a headache or other nagging symptoms that denote a poor quality wine. In the realm of imported French wine, trying to find one under $20 is very difficult. So consequently, as Americans we are trained to believe that you have to not only pay dearly to drink well, but that you must have some sort of training to do so. We did a test while in Paris. We purposely tried to purchase a bottle of undrinkable wine. Most were under 3 euros and none were over 5, all chosen at random. I am happy to report that we did not succeed. All of them were very pleasant tasting, with varying degrees of greatness of course. What is imported and sold to wine drinkers in the U.S. is nothing close to what the French drink themselves, at a fraction of the cost.

Streets of Paris

The dichotomy of Parisians and their city is mind-boggling to me as an outsider at times. The fashions, food and architecture are at once fabulous and innovative while drawing from the classic sensibilities of the past. That being said, the streets themselves are littered with spittle, phlegm and dog feces. They can be pretty revolting at times. Oh, how do mauve suede Louboutin's survive the minefields that they have to walk through daily? Maybe a few more months here and I will have the riddle solved. 

1st arrondissement

Across from the catacombs

Bustling boulevard

What a beautiful gown!

Need I say more?

Fashionable even on a bike

The 'scruffy yet stylish' look