Well Boys and Girls, everything has to come to an end, and the Reporter was pretty sad she had to close her little bag
to be ready to fly away on September 28th back to sunny California, and leave behind that lovely grey-green parisian sky.
So decided to enjoy to the most her last hours in the city of lights, she took the 82 bus, as she had in fact to drop a little gift for a new mum at the office of her friend, the Great Catherine. And on the way, she clicked her little camera on a little Smart at the Eiffel Tower
Then she looked pensively down on her lap and admired her velvety bag, as she is a very superficial and materialistic girl,
then, on the way back, she took a peek at the Ecole Militaire. Literally translated the Military School, it is a sort of brooding building, a few blocks away from the magnificent one of The Invalides. The Ecole Militaire used to be really a training military school in the 1900's. There is one wing named Artillerie, loosely translated as Artillery, and another wing called Cavalerie, which you may have guessed is loosely Cavalry. As a matter of fact, the Reporter's dad did his military time in the Cavalerie in like around 1922, and that took place in a forest near Paris called Fontainebleau. There, he was like a lieutenant and was given the task to take 20 men and go shoot in the forest near a small wooden tower which was used as a " point de repere" or a benchmark. So they galloped " ventre a terre " which is "belly on the floor " which only means ' pretty fast' really.
Except her dad had the 20 men, after galloping ventre a terre, aiming at the "point de repere" and the wooden tower went down. So that was it for the benchmark. They came back trotting, all happy with themselves. That curiously didn't go so well with the Captain, and her dad was never asked again to take men to take aim at anything.
So anyway, neither here nor there, this is the Ecole Militaire where her dad shined,
and next to it is Le Cafe des Officiers, or The Cafe of the Officers,
But if you ask me, there's not a lot of officers there.
Then the 82 bus passed the magnificent building of the Invalides which was created for the war invalides.
That was the favorite building of the Reporter's dad, so every time she passes there, she cries. Which is an embarrassment for
the poor travelers of the 82 bus.
And then, Boys and Girls we arrive to the crux of this last post on Paris.
For the 12 days that the Reporter spent in Paris, she looked in her posh 7th arrondissement for a wonderful baguette, as she, as a good former french little girl, loves a good piece of bread. And she had really tried like every bakery around Rue Vaneau in a circle of about 5 km. But it seemed all baguettes, even the traditional ones, didn't amount to much. So she was pretty depressed.
And then, like only THREE days ago, she spotted the Boulangerie des Invalides,
which she had earlier dismissed as it looked a little too refined from the outside. And she had thought, stupidly, such a pretty boulangerie has to make an awful bread. But, pushed by hunger, THREE days ago, she pushed the door, ordered " une ficelle ", which you cannot translate literally as " a piece of string " so you have to know " une ficelle" is a very thin baguette but not as thin as piece of string. As ALWAYS, the french tend to " exagerer " or " exaggerate."
And Lo and Behold, the ficelle from the Boulangerie des Invalides was more than delicious, it was Heaven !!
And the Reporter swooned next to la Boulangerie.
So, just to show you, what the best Boulangerie in Paris looks like, you are lucky enough that she was allowed to take some pics, so you can see that effectively, the prettiest Boulangerie in Paris, does the BEST bread in Paris.
And she is not mentioning the little cakes and pastries, as there is a tarte aux framboises, a raspbery tart,
which didn't look bad at all, or even a crumble aux abricots et pistaches, an apricot and pistachio crumble, that she would have swooned about again, and there was already enough swooning as it was.
And here is the bar, where you can order a " cafe allongé" which doesn't mean that the coffee is laying down but that it is in a bigger cup so a little weaker, and the cafe allongé at La Boulangerie des Invalides is sinfully good, seriously.
and sadly, last pic from this exquisite place,
So there, dear Reader, with much love and scents of wonderful coffee, from the exquisite Boulangerie,
the Frog
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