Jule's Parisian Grocery Adventure

While riding the train from London to Paris, I imagined how it would be in our apartment hotel.  I anxiously awaited the casual stroll to the nearby marche to pick up a baguette and some fromage and shop at a local grocery store just like a real Parisian.  Little did I know, what I encountered would give me some instant material for our travel blog.

Parisians Love Walking

There are no cabs sitting around on the streets in Paris.  Everyone walks everywhere -- and no walk is “very far”.  My in-laws and I entered the market square and were immediately told that the nearest grocery store was a 5 minute walk through the center of the market.  I am pretty sure we rolled our eyes at the locals....just fresh off our London leg of the trip, we'd had plenty of walking and had heard this before.  Forty minutes later and ten times of being told "it's not far now...just around the corner," we arrived weary and worn with a cart ready to fill.    

Parisians Love Sugar Cereal

Are You Trying to Scare the Kids?

While grocery shopping in Paris, I envisioned small shelves of organic products and small baskets of handmade pastries.  Imagine my surprise when I entered the neon-bright signage of a WalMart-esque mega-store.  Armed with my trusty cart in tow, I try to navigate the aisles with everything written in French.  I let out a laugh as my father-in-law is inspecting the cereals to find what he likes.  What you got there?  Really, Jumblies and ChocoCrack?  I may have to put my foot down here.

Items Placed Where Mom Needs Them

I go to pick up some apple juice in an aisle filled with kids drinks and right next to the juice boxes are some strategically placed wine bottles.  It could pass for a bottle of pink lemonade, but clearly says "Rose" and has this weird drawing of a bewildered bird.  And it's about the same price as a bottle of juice.  So...... this is how tired mommies here deal with the stress of parenting once their kids have been munching on Jumblies and Choco-Crack all day long.  Duly noted.  Depending on how the next few days go in France, I may be back for the little bird bottle.  

I think we must have gone down about 50 aisles to find something familiar - and along the way we find other U.S. vacationers who are banding together with us, trying to read the labels.

Checkout and Finding My Zen

When we do finally leave the grocery store, it has been hours since we left our hotel.   Sorry lady at the checkout for not properly weighing and tagging my produce with the correct price in Euro.  She seems pretty annoyed with me as she scans the groceries. The lady behind me in line murmurs something in French about my "funny accent."   I take a deep breath and we begin the long trek back.

Walking gives you time to reflect...and speaking of time, it's time to find a bathroom.  Still practicing those deep breaths, I see a well-timed sign next to the bathroom, "Espace Zen" with a drawing of someone finding their happy place. It's so awkward, it makes me smile.

Let's just hope I can figure out the flushing mechanism, because believe me, we have seen it all.  If you've been overseas, you know what I'm talking about.  Chains overhead.  Oddly placed buttons on the floor.  Buttons and levers and all sorts of odd contraptions. 

But now my four hour adventure has come to a close.  I'm tucked in the apartment with groceries put away.  

The kids are happy with their Jumblies and Choco-Crack.  And I'm well-armed with some new knowledge of real Parisian life.

--Jule Rizzardo