How to Avoid Raiding the Minibar, or Paris on as Much Money a Day as You'd Spend if You Had to Shop at a Fancy Grocery Store You Can't Afford Anyway

The problem:

This is your hotel room's minibar. It's stocked with beer, soda, juice, hard liquor, and—Mon Dieu!—a 375ml bottle of champagne. Now, this is all very cool, but—


This is the menu for your hotel room's minibar, and it's fucking outrageous. I mean, 3.50€ for a teensy bottle of Coke, and the same for an even smaller bottle of sparking water? If it were $1.00 = 1.00€ that would be bad enough, but with the exchange rate the way it is right now... ai yi yi...

“Aw, quit yummering. Just some ice from the machine and regular water. What's wrong with that, ya snob?” Two things: 1—no ice machine, and 2—the tap water tastes gross. Mind you, I've had worse water—Columbus, Ohio comes to mind—but Paris tap water (at least as it is at the Hotel Cayré) is nothing to write home about.

Aside: I am not a bottled water person per se. I think those parts of New York City that get their tap water from the pristine reservoirs upstate have some of the best water going. OTOH, Evian, to me, tastes like ass. I have no clue why people drink it. It's somewhere between Paris tap water and Oklahoma City's in my experience (with Columbus, Ohio being dead last behind Oklahoma City.)

Anyway, here's the answer:

Of course, this only works when the temperature is sufficiently cool—and you can open the window of your hotel room, and there's a ledge, and it doesn't overlook the street...you get the idea. A liter o' fizzy water, some jambon blanc from La Grande Epicerie, a hunk of goat cheese, some flat water...and all for...well, OK, La Grande Epicerie charges a lot for the jambon blanc, but it still beats the minibar. Besides, if, like me, you were old enough to go to college back in the day when people didn't have dorm room fridges and you had to find some way to keep your beer cold...brings back memories, I tell you...