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Delicious Paris: stroll, cheese and wine tastings in Paris
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I. Le Marais

C'est l'été indien et je suis sur la Place des Vosges. J'imagine que dans l'un des hôtels particuliers, Madame de Sévigné écrit une lettre à sa fille. Un rayon de soleil est figé dans sa fenêtre, il fait doux dans la pièce, quelques feuilles de papiers trainent sur le parquet en chêne. Plongée dans son écriture elle s'arrête brusquement la plume à la main et écoute. Ce sont les garçons qui jouent au foot dehors et la sortent de ses pensées. Ils courent, leurs visages sont rouges, leurs fronts sont couverts de goutellettes de sueurs mêlées à leurs mèches rebelles.

Les garçons crient fort et dans ce cri il y a la Vie. L'Instant.

Un jour ils disparaitront. Moi aussi.
Mais mon âme, je le sais, restera ici, dans le Marais. Dans le feuillage des arbres, dans l'ombre des silhouettes papotant sur les banc verts, dans le rire des enfants dans le square, dans le cri des mouettes, dans les sourires malins des mascarons en pierre qui savent tout mais ne disent rien, dans le vent qui murmure des secrets aux maisons, dans des boules de glace, dans les boiseries des portes cochères, dans le soprano d'un homme habillé étrangement qui chante sous les arcades bicolores, dans la tiedeur du soir qui caresse de vieux pavés et des façades ocres, dans les baisers osés des amoureux sur la pelouse, dans le mouvement insaisissable d'une petite vielle qui danse sur des airs de jazz devant le musée Canavalet, dans la pluie qui efface sans regret nos traces.

Photo de Loic Lagarde

#marais #privatetoursparis #deliciousparis

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It is a lovely day in Paris, so I, like many others, decide to get in line to buy some ice cream.

But to wait in line for one scoop is ridiculous, isn’t it? Alors, two scoops? Three? No. Three is too much. Three is tacky. Let’s make it two scoops.

I think to myself, there is something round, light, childish, and tender yet almost awkward in the French word « boule.” And the warm summer wind caresses my face.

Ahead of me at the ice cream counter, I see cones, cute jars, and tiny plastic spoons of all colors. I am squinting my eyes trying to read the beautiful cursive script on the chalkboard. I am thinking about the end of the school day, when you are walking nonchalantly, when your half open bag is flapping its lips behind you and in the perfect weather, you feel free. Those early summer days when all of the sudden school finishes with ice cream. And you feel so light again.

Lemon, vanilla, cinnamon. Mmmm…

Around me, little hands part from the line, cupping with the greatest care their cones full of pink, white, and green happiness.

I confirm again with mysef, ice cream melts quickly; it would be ridiculous to walk with tree scoops. Eh oui!

After myself escaping the line, I stop and lean on a greenish board on the bridge of lovers. Boats are passing below. Tourists kiss each other and make wishes.

I close my eyes. One lick and I picture a little girl wearing a white dress. She is running up the street and gripping in her sweaty palm some coins. She repeats in her head the names of certain ice cream flavors and, yes, to not to forget « s’il vous plait » et « merci.”

This little girl is me. The memory is in the lick.

The ice cream is delicious. The memory, too.

#deliciousparis #privatetoursparis #foodtoursparis
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At long last, you are coming to Paris, the city of love, art, and history.

You want to get lost in the royal faces that look suspiciously, nay, coyly at you from their walls in the Louvre. You want, of course, to sip a glass of wine in a rattan chaise as you bathe in the ambiance of so many tête-à-tête, small, round tables. You want to climb the Eiffel Tower and breathe in all the rooftops of Paris. You want to feel the words part from your lips: « Paris, je t’aime.”

A part of being Parisian, understanding Paris, is married to its conversation, la langue de Molière, so what would you say to a French lesson over a cup of coffee and a viennoiserie in an old bakery? Pourquoi pas un pastry?!

Depending on your level, I promise to tailor make a French lesson for you. A small souvenir brochure with your new French vocabulary will be given to you at the end of the lesson.

Why I became a teacher: I believe the goal of any teacher is not so much the indoctrination of grammar rules as it is the transmission of passion towards the subject she teaches. The teacher has to be in love with her subject, and I am head over heels with the French language. I love sharing my knowledge, and I consider that knowing multiple languages makes someone stronger, happier, perhaps even a better citizen.

The more languages you know, the more broad you are as an individual.

About the lesson: Depending on your level and goals, I will guide you through conversation, on this or that subject, with some rules, some reading, some listening. If you have plans to go on learning French, I can suggest schools, recommend books to buy and methods to use so that you learn more quickly. I will insist that we temper our aspirations with some reality because a beginner will not speak French fluently within two months. Yet, each learner moves at her own pace, and I’m here to sharpen your step.

Why do we meet in a bakery? This old bakery with its ancient facades, beautiful mirrors, and its confectionary aromas is so Parisian. I host my sessions here because I believe in the informal classroom, where we are cozy and where French falls from the mouths of the natives.

À bientôt !

#visitparis #foodtoursparis #learnfrenchinparis
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Perhaps you’ll find this odd, but often when I take a night flight and I find myself looking down at the tiny lights of an unknown city, I am overcome with a strange feeling that somewhere below the plane and me is my childhood home.
Once again I am on a night flight, wearing a summer dress, and I see a city through the window. I know pretty well that miracles don’t exist, but I don’t know why it seems possible to me that if only I could land in this twinkling place it would suddenly start snowing, that I would be transported to that winter many years ago. That winter I am 6, everything is white, and my grandfather is pulling my sled humming something nice. There is my house, number 34, I am running upstairs, opening a large red door, making my way to the kitchen. My grandmother is there bending over the oven, and it is warm inside, and it smells good, and the windows are fogged up with our heat.
What if it were possible, just every once in a while, to visit a certain moment from our childhoods, even if only for a few moments? It could be special, right? But maybe our memories are the miracles, the moments continuing to live on, always in time, somewhere, happening?

www.delicious-paris.com

#deliciousparis
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The most precious thing you can take home from your trip are your memories about new places visited, new people met, and of course the photos.

Delicious Paris organizes made-to-measure photo shoots expressly for you in original Parisian settings that reflect your unique Parisian experience.

Every photo shoot is a story, and Delicious Paris loves stories. Using a talented photographer and makeup artist, we develop a pictorial autobiography according to your individual preferences in order to offer you a special souvenir and an unforgettable experience.

#deliciousparis #themarais #foodtourparis #walkingtourparis #privatetourparis #olgasemkoguide #parisguide #paris #photographerparis #olgasemko
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I love giving morning tours on the weekends. I arrive a bit earlier to the meeting spot and admire the city waking up while most of Parisians are still in bed. The café workers are there, cleaning up the sidewalks from yesterday’s conversations, kisses, break-ups, washing away all chances that last night could happen again. The wet pavement is shining, a new day is born.

As chairs and tables suddenly remake the streets of postcards, I pass bakeries, the smell of flaky pastries and coffee floating out their doors. This is the scent of Paris, the scent of morning.

#paris #deliciousparis #morningparis #photoparis #guidedtours #olgasemko #privatetourparis #foodtourparis #visitparis #paristours #walkingtourparis #photosessionparis #parisiloveyou
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A Lesson on Parisian "Politeness".

Today, I was walking on the street. When I approached a corner café a man sitting on a terrace bent forward and taking me in said "Tu* es magnifique, quelle allure!" (Translation: You are beautiful, what style!)
Yet, after 6 years of living in Paris I know all too well that a well-mannered Frenchman would never say "tu" to an unknown woman passing him on the street. What’s more, a well-mannered Frenchman would not dare to address an unknown woman on the street (unless, of course, he invented a very elegant pretext).

But a well-mannered Frenchman would probably do nothing more than delight in the vision of a woman he found stylish.

An ill-mannered man spoke to me in an inappropriate way on the street.

And as a well-mannered woman I should have been offended.
Instead, I felt goddamned flattered. Yes, flattered! An indecent thing!
No matter who speaks to you and no matter how “elegant” the context is, nice words are always welcome in the pages of my Paris story. We all need to hear them and the more often the better.

* "Tu" is a personal pronoun which is used only for people that you know well, e.g. friends, family. Otherwise, you should use "vous" to show respect to strangers and seniors.
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I have always been crazy about dogs. I mean, nothing against other animals, but I love only dogs.
When I was a little girl I would pet them, give them the food my grandmother cooked for our family, and often even brought stray dogs home to play with (that is, until my grandmother noticed).
One day, when I was around 3 or so, I saw a dog in front of my house, so I kneeled down and was about to give it my usual, little hug when the dog bit me on the face. It is hard to describe the shock I felt. My face didn't hurt on the outside, but on the inside I felt hurt, even if I wasn't able to articulate it. or the very first time in my life I felt truly betrayed.
Later my grandmother told me that I cried all night asking her over and over "Grandma, why? Why did he bite me? I only wanted to give him a hug."
Many years have passed since that day. However, some people like me don't always learn the lessons life tries to teach them.
I still stop on the street and give hugs to all the dogs I like. Not because I am foolish, but because true love doesn't fade despite one dog bite.

#deliciousparis #walkingtours #paris #foodtours #stories #olgasemko #oldparis #privatetour #guidedtourparis #food #delicious #touristparis
www.delicious-paris.com
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A bit of classical music in an old courtyard in the Marais.
Some days ago, I attended an open air concert of classical music. It took place in the courtyard of one of the historic family mansions in the Marais. I was exhausted after a long day working and quickly stopped home to shower and change. As I was late, I took a taxi but had to run the last few meters to the mansion since the street was closed to cars (just my luck! )
Boy was I happy to find a seat and collapse onto a chair !
It took them some time to start and I began to regret coming. I was checking my email when the sound of violins started to echo through my body. When I lifted my head, everything seemed to have surrendered to the music: the horses carved into the building's facade appeared to gallop to the rhythm and the small birds etched there seemed to flit about the stage as seagulls shrieked overhead and planes drew white lines on a blue square of the sky above our heads.
I felt both sad and happy at the same time. I felt truly alive.

www.delicious-paris.com

#marais   #lemarais   #themarais   #olgasemko   #deliciousparis   #walkingtours   #foodtour   #culture   #music   #classicalmusic   #paris  
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