Adventures of Lulu and Phoebe in Paris

Two little Boston Terrier girls bring their Momo & Mr.Momo to Paris for a long stay. These are the tales of their very fine adventures.

4.12.08

We Have NEW Blogs!


Lulu and Phoebe are moving again. Check out their new blog. And leave some comments. Those girls have enormous egos!

First is Diary of 2 Black and White Dogs. Find it here.
http://diaryof2blackandwhitedogs.blogspot.com/

Next is the new home of our Gluten Free Dogs and People. Find it here:
http://glutenfreedogsandpeople.blogspot.com/

See you there!

27.9.08

Lulu and Phoebe Want You to Visit Their Latest Blog!


Bonjour!

Lulu and Phoebe invite you to join them as they blog about the U.S. Presidential Election where they find the fun in politics! Of course, they hope that you will tell all your friends and non-friends too so that their big old blogger egos are fat and happy.

Don't worry. There will be more Adventures of L&P in Paris too.

So, visit them here: http://luluandphoebeelectioncoverage.blogspot.com/

Merci!

4.3.08

Do Lulu and Phoebe Remember Paris?


Why yes. They do. Momo talks about Paris almost every day, reminding the young L&P of their adventures.

It doesn't hurt that she and Mr. Momo make fromage blanc frequently and share with L&P. That and a true croissant would make anyone swoon with happiness, and that would include our little L&P.

In order to get a true croissant, or a pain au chocolat, one of us must zip to France and bring some back. However, the last transatlantic croissant was more like a croissant-crush. A million flaky pieces. But no matter. L&P like small flakes of anything tasty.

Treats from Paris are a highlight. It is still hard to find decent pastry and cheeses here. It is also hard to bring them back on a flight that is about 14 hours too long. Chocolate does best, and poor little macaroons do not do well at all. If the croissant was a flaky mess, the macaroons were a gooey composite of what once was perfection. That was very sad. But the part that was most disturbing? Apparently crossing so many time lines confused the heck out them, cause by the time they got here, they were barely 15 hours old, but they tasted like they were six days old, even in their ooey-gooey state. Humm, perhaps they added too many time zones to their fresh-by date??? Oh well. You can't go wrong with a big box of treats from La Maison du Chocolat!

Since little P spent her young months in Paris, she has some of the French language imprinted on her tiny little itty bitty brain. She responds much more quickly to "assis" than she does to "sit", um, or sat. She knows "avec" rather than "with" and "merde" holds a special place in her heart. Not many dogs I know poop on command to "merde".

L would prefer Paris again because she has perfected the aloof stare and the peevish facial tic. I think she would do splendidly in Paris again. She mastered the attitude perfectly.

And food still remains high on the list of things all things Paris. Jambon is still a huge favorite of both L&P, and they don't seem to mind the Amercian Jambon (can I even say that?!) but I do detect a slight indication that they seem to know it is not Parisian ham. Or even better, Spanish ham. When we bake our favorite quiche, a reminder of the best of them we tasted in Paris, two little faces will be watching us carefully looking for their taste which comes when we are done. We are pleased to say that our quiche gets a big high ten from both L&P.

The only true way to know if they remember France is to take them there. If they begin to sniff the air like crazy dogs after we exit CDG, then you know they know they feel like they are home again. Or perhaps the men in green have yet to clean the merde de chien that day.....

Next up. The Monoprix. It deserves its very own post. Nous aimons le monoprix!

29.8.07

Road Trip part Duex: Off to Los Angeles




Ah, the city of lost angels. Were it only so, the trip could be much more enchanting. However, to get to Los Angeles, you need to actually get in the car and drive on the "5". Famous 5. Known for its.....boredom and brownness. Yes, seriously, brownness. Look at the photo! When the thing you look forward to on your journey is reaching the bottom of the grapevine (the twisty giant hill before you reach LA) where there is one lone Starbucks and a new (not open yet) In-Out Burger, sadly, your trip is mighty boring. You can see from the pictures that L&P had the same attitude.

Driving south on the 5 is very different than driving north. North is boring too, but at least we found a Peets Coffee which is far superior to Starbucks any day. Do you think it is fair that on the entire interstate that two decent coffee places could be placed that far apart? Perhaps it is to keep up hope so that you actually continue to drive through from one end to the other without hurling your car into the brownness never to be seen again?

There is a special special place on the 5. It is called Coalinga and if anyone reads this and is from this place, I certainly apologize in advance and wish you godspeed in getting your nostrils clean some day. It is home to Harris Ranch and the fond pack of steer that will someday be dinner. Until then, they linger right off the 5 on a long stretch where the road curves just enough to allow for trucks to slow down and block the free flow of fast moving cars. Always. So there is no quick escape past this torture. What torture you ask? Ah. Well, even if your air circulation vent is closed on your vehicle it does not matter. It will even awaken a sleeping L&P, noses arising in the air before bodies even get up to figure out why there is suddenly 534 pounds of shit in our car. It is miles and miles of cattle standing in overdone, overheated, dry aired, foul, extra-excrement and piss. You can see the waves of it poofing into the atmosphere from the heat and volume. It burns your nostrils - permeates your pores and fills your car with the stench for miles after you finally burn past this. That is if you can. There has been only one time that we have been able fly past not impeded by the big trucks. And that one lone time the air was moving in a different direction so the stench was milder. If one can call rotting poop by the ton milder.

This time we stopped after the aforementioned death-smell hole to gas up and Momo was sure it was far enough past to be rid of the smell. Apparently not. And apparently the little tiny poop flies needed to gas up too because there were thousands of them all over the gas pumps. As soon as you opened your door in flew the flies by the handful. It took a long time to coax them all out of the car. P thought that they place was pretty fine because she had her nose in the air the entire time it took her to pee.

And by the way fellow dog people. Just because you are traveling with your dog on a road trip does not mean you are exempt from picking up the poop! Especially the pile that looked like the dog was 240 pounds! Momo could not believe her eyes, and she could see the pile from the highway almost. Even P, who is known to love the poop would not go near that one. It was taller than she.

Drivers in the Los Angeles area are special special. They live in an area of the world where make believe is premier, so they make believe drive too. Some of them think that reading while driving is fine. Others prefer to chat on the multiple chat devices one can own these days, all at once. And others think that dining while driving is perfectly acceptable too, although they forget the chauffeur and stain free clothing. Momo is not talking about the snacking that we all do on occasion while motoring, but plate, napkin, utensils while driving and mind you, while wearing white. That takes a certain amount of belief in the make believe, don't you think?

Some like to drive at what they think the speed limit ought to be. That can range from faster than a speeding bullet to foot not exactly on the accelerator, but letting idle tootle you down the road. What you rarely see in Los Angeles are drivers just driving. The Momo family has seen it all. Dressing, and um, undressing. Dining. Chatting on multiple mobile devices. Reading. Mapping. Changing wigs. Everyone can probably say they have seen someone applying make-up while driving, but I bet you can't say you have seen both men and women applying products on the face, and um, elsewhere. Tanner too. It is LA after all.

L&P would care to not rate the drive as you can see from their expressions. Lulu would rather eat my hat. Momo would prefer to spend the trip with an inhaler, goggles, and perhaps some aroma therapy devices as well as nose plugs. Mr. Momo would like to either wear an ipod or turn the zippy music up to ward off smells, boredom and the "are we there " whines from the back seat. And ok, the passenger seat.

Stay tuned. We have only just arrived.

24.8.07

All Things Music - The Metro, Part Trois



Momo thinks of the Metro often. Even L&P miss the Metro. In Paris, L&P, if they could only speak French, could buy their own cartes and enjoy the Metro sans carriers. Here they are allowed on the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit - imaginative name, huh?) but they must be in an enclosed carrier. Yes, they can have air holes, but the whole thing must be zipped up - no cute heads peaking out, and they are absolutely not allowed to buy their own tickets. Actually they have no need for tickets because they would be considered our carry on bag where in France they often had their own seats and could walk on the train on all four little Frito Feet.

Momo and Mr. Momo decided one day to take advantage of our very own Metro-BART and travel into San Francisco by train. We typically drive into San Francisco, and it can take 45 minutes or 35 hours just like other big cities. In Paris, one can travel from one end of the city to the other quite quickly by train. Here, we must drive to the BART which is about 40 minutes away and then must wait for the train, get on the train, and stop every few feet until we get into San Francisco. This happens about 45 minutes later. While that might not seem outrageous, consider that it only takes 10 more minutes to drive into the heart of San Francisco after driving to the BART. Of course we could have taken the CAL Train to the BART. CAL is like the RER - the same only different. CAL train runs pretty often , but not as often as the RER, and CAL goes through many different towns before it eventually reaches San Francisco. It also travels on the surface streets right through many intersections so it is a stop and go kind of thing. More often than anyone likes, there are accidents at these intersections. Drivers who are stupid and stop on the tracks at a red light though it tells you to not do that. Or even pedestrians who manage to think they too can beat the train. They mostly don't. The RER is much more sensible. It was built not as a total afterthought, but as a serious means of transporting people into Paris. Parisians area much more sensible than Californians it seems. All except when it comes to high heeled shoes.

In New York City, the subway is much more similar to the Paris Metro. At least people rely on it to get where they need to be and it seems to work most days. It is also Momo thinks, the most similar to Paris in dignity (oh please stop laughing) and architecture. There are some gorgeous subway stations in NYC as well as in Paris. However, here in CA, the train stations look like a granola bar Metro. All angles and trying to be hip and cool. At some of the stops it looks like they forgot to finish the station. The only way you know it is open is that the BART stops there and people get on and off. As far as the CAL train stations go, they are mostly quite frightening. They look like a long forgotten train depot, the ghost of Harry Potter past perhaps.

CAL train does have something that both NYC and Paris don't though. The Christmas Train! Yes indeed. At holiday time, or should I say extended early holiday time, which by our calculations should be next week, a flat bed CAL train will arrive at certain stations in the evening with Santa, helpers, elves, and and even Mrs. Claus. And music. Very jolly music. And free candy. The whole event is staged to advertise the commuter train service offered by CAL. Since most of the people who come to see the holiday event drive and plug up the local traffic so that it is at a standstill, Momo thinks the message gets lost. But the music is festive. And the candy is colorful. L&P merely think Santa is odd because he won't give them candy, and they don't appreciate festive holiday tunes.

L&P prefer the music in the Metro. In Paris. One of the best parts of the Metro in Paris is the music. That's right. The music. If you travel around on the Metro on any one day you can be treated to French Horn music, opera, violin, and assorted other odd things. Even groups. We came across a really great group of musicians who were playing assorted instruments and singing. I think they call those "bands". Seriously, it was a little ensemble. They were even hawking self produced CDs. I liked the harmony and wish we had bought one. We never did get a chance because although we stopped to listen, P decided it was her calling and started joining is both barking and humming it seemed. From the frowns we were getting it was time to leave. That girl thinks she is a star. L, was appropriately peeved.

Another time, in fact, many other times, we came across a very good violinist playing some lovely music. She was always friendly and nodded and never lost her place even though her violin bobbed with the nod. I think she enjoyed L&P strolling by. They were never as impressed with the violin because I think what they heard might have been a little too much for their radar ears. But Momo's all time favorite was the French horn player who played Ave Maria in a loop for weeks it seemed. Every single time we were in that station there would be the mournful horn singing out Ave Maria over and over. It was haunting. L&P were startled at first, but soon, after the 6th week got quite used to it. In fact, P can still hum a few notes.

Here is the thing that makes music so beautiful in the Paris Metro. Acoustics. The place is made to carry sound in that haunting quality way. You certainly won't find that anywhere else I suspect. There are layers and layers to the Metro. Some lines are stacked 3 deep and are already way underground. You could come up on the other side of the earth if they layered it any deeper. The music carries and carries. You could be miles away and still hear the haunting sounds following you. And because the chatter in the Metros in Paris, for all the people traveling underground, is really quite quiet, the music is extra special because it almost floats over everything else.

If Momo sounds a bit homesick, she is. There just is not anything like the Metro in Paris anywhere else. L&P agree and would like to become honorary carte orange holders. We all rate the music in the Metro a big 10.