Au Revoir, Paris--musing #9

“Breathe deeply,” said Aurore (my Paris hostess) as we parted ways. My first walk out of the neighborhood found my local patisserie, Jean Millet, closed. “Quelle horreur!” I thought it must be closed on Friday and found that I could not bring myself to enter another café. And so, I walked around and said good-bye to the Eiffel Tower from the first place I saw it at Pont de l’Alma. The morning was gray again like when I arrived only not quite as wet and rainy. I stood on the bridge and watched the people heading to work. I’d like to believe I did not stand out as l’Americain. This had come to feel like home.

I returned to my apartment for a quick stop and resigned myself to going to Starbucks down the street. At least I could do a little comparison shopping at a semi-familiar place. I was not willing to risk having a mediocre cup of coffee at a new café--rather to have something vaguely familiar. And then I saw it—the night time bars removed from my favorite haunt and “Voila!” they were open for business ☺.

I finally felt confident enough to use a little more French with the Madame.
“Comment allez vous?”
“Bien et tu?”
“Tres bien,” I said, but in truth I was a little sad. Still I ordered my breakfast. “Je voudrais un grand café au lait et un croissant, s’il vous plait.” (This was a far cry from the stumbling, “Uhhhh????” of a week ago ☺.)
For one last time, my coffee came in its beautiful China cup. The espresso served first followed by the little pitcher of warm milk. The croissant tasted especially buttery and fresh this morning. Pure heaven!

As I prepared to leave the café, I told the shopkeeper that I loved her shop and thanked her for her recommendations as well as telling her it was my last morning. She said, “Wait! I have something for you. You will like it—a souvenir to take back with you.” She left and came back with a straw “Jean Millet” tote bag and a nice little French pastry cookbook. Tres bien!

As I left the shop, there was one more surprise for me—Madame Martine and Ginger were coming up the street. I said, “Au revoir and it was a pleasure meeting you.” Martine told me not to be so sad for leaving Paris. It would always be there.

“It is in my heart”, I told her.
She said, “See you again. You will be back. Same place” and she pointed to Millet.

Nothing will ever compare to this first amazing trip. It was exactly what I needed to do for me. As I walked through rue Cler slowly breathing in the morning, I knew that I was a different person than the one who arrived eight days ago. I was more of me. It was like I found a piece of myself that had been tucked away for awhile.

I strolled once more through the market. The locals had their shopping carts and the dogs were out en masse (in a very lovely sort of way.) It was a little drizzly and threatened to rain, but that never happened. I visited the streets that were foreign to me a week ago that now felt like home. I snapped a few more shots—stalked a few more dogs—enjoyed the lovely aging people. As Tess said, “The older women are not ‘invisible’ here.” (I think I would love to grow old in France with my little shopping cart and sensible yet still stylish shoes ☺).

When I turned the corner to go back to my apartment for one last time, I saw the taxi. My taxi—15 minutes early. The cab driver was polite, but not talkative. The trip to the airport felt like the final scene of a movie complete with operatic soundtrack. We toured through the Right Bank (a place I spent very little time). I saw sights I had missed along the way—the couture houses, Hermes and others. Then up the Champs de Elysee and back to the Arc de Triomphe where it all started.

Au revoir, Paris. Je t’aime!

where have all the poodles gone? paris #8

Sitting here on my last morning in Paris I find myself wondering...where have all the poodles gone? Paris is full of dogs. Big dogs. Little dogs. White dogs. Black dogs...actually mainly white dogs. (Hmmmm...wonder what's up with that?) Les chiens are on the Metro, in the cafes and fine restaurants, strolling through the parks and along the Seine. In all of my wanderings and dog stalking, however, I only came across one poodle!! But oh what a poodle he is!!!

I would like for you to meet Ginger. Ginger belongs to Martine who in return speaks lovingly of her very own Mr. Darcy. Tess and I met Martine & Ginger at my favorite little neighborhood patisserie, Jean Millet. They occupy the far corner table and have done so for 15 1/2 years (which happens to correspond with Ginger's age.) Martine described Ginger as a "confused male poodle" since he has lived with a female name for his long life. He was thus named because of his beautiful color. Currently Ginger is deaf and basically blind, but continues to enjoy his morning stroll and cafe sitting with Madame Martine who is a definite treasure herself. Oh, Paree...you have to love it!!!

See more chiens (pups) at lucy creates!!!

Absorbing Paris--reflection #7

"Paris is to be absorbed in through the pores...sensing it and feeling it rather than seeing and doing. When you sit at that cafe with that glass of French wine and write in your journal (or on your maps and guidebooks!) raise a glass to yourself for giving yourself this amazing gift!"

This wonderful quote was given to me by Kate I before I left for Paris. Today as I find myself just a little melancholy as I must attend to the details of preparing to leave Paree tomorrow, I wanted to make sure Kate knew I succeeded in following her wonderful recommendation. Here is an excerpt from yesterday's journal:

Today I am pinching myself. Everything is so delicious...so French...sitting in Cafe Panis at rue LaGrange across from Notre Dame. It is still cold, but the sun is shining. My kir champagne was just poured and I shall toast to myself. I am beautiful, brave and in Paris!

Yesterday was one of those magical days where everything fell into place and the day poured on and on with new delights around every corner. I returned for a visit to Notre Dame to sit in remembrance and light a candle for my friend, Allyson, taken from life too soon. I climbed to the top of the tower and stood in the crisp, cold sunny day overlooking the panoramic view of Paris. Absolutely breathtaking!

My next stop was Shakespeare & Company where legends such as Hemingway, James Joyce, George Bernard Shaw and Gertrude Stein went to get their "English fix" for books. (I managed to get a little "fix" myself with a new book of poetry.) The lovely sales clerk gave me the superb recommendation of Cafe Panis where I had my lunch of kir royal au champagne Montgivroux and soupe a l'oignoin gratinee (champagne with raspberry liquer and french onion soup) while being attended to by very handsome and gracious waiters ☺.

A little shopping peppered the morning in the Latin Quarter and a visit to St. Severin Chapel. Later I took my favorite bus (#69) to Pere Lachaise cemetery where I meandered through the ancient tombstones and visited the likes of Collette and Jim Morrison. While I did search for my families' surnames, I had no success. This still has not dampened my assurance that I am indeed part French!

My handy bus then dropped me back by the Louvre where I considered trying my luck again with Venus, but opted instead to visit the amazing Monet water lilies at Musee L'Orangerie. Both before and after the Musee included a stroll through the wonderful Tuilleries gardens.

Leaving the gardens, I walked up the Right Bank toward the Avenue du Champs-Elysees. The best part of this walk was the beautiful sunset over the Seine. I found the Avenue to be much like any major city complete with McDonald's, the Gap and cell phone stores. The prize at the end, however, was the Arc de Triomphe bathed in evening light.

I am not sure if more posts will come directly from Paris, but I know that many more will follow about it. I have only begun to scratch the surface of this amazing gift of a week!! And I know that it has been "absorbed in through the pores" as Kate claimed it must be. Merci!!

A bientot!

in memory of allyson

"I am a tear of the sun." --Lawrence Ferlinghetti from the poem, "Autobiography"

While traveling this week, I learned that a young friend & coworker of mine died suddenly due to complications with a brain aneurysm. It is so hard to understand when anyone dies, but especially those who seem to go "too soon." Allyson Thrift would have turned 34 years old tomorrow. Today I dedicated my journey and adventures to her. It was a day filled with tears and delight. I hope she would have liked it. These are for you, Ally.

stained glass at notre dame

saint joan d'arc

the center candle was lit for allyson at notre dame (next to joan d'arc)

silhouette at pere lachaise

sunset over the seine

paris musing #5...don't make the louvre gods angry or...

...how the Venus de Milo got revenge.

It was Monday morning and most museums in town were closed except for the Louvre. It would be crowded, but Tess and I had our plan. We called it “the bullet approach.” We had mapped out the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. We would arrive early on our direct bus route (after, of course, stopping off at Jean Millet for croissants and café au lait). Our museum passes in hand, we would “shoot” in and out and save the rest for another time.

We were excited, giddy even, like two kids who were about to do something naughty. Everything was going according to plan. There was a line by the pyramid for ticket purchases, but the guard pointed to our special entrance…no lines…no waiting. Perfect. We were in! We picked up our museum guide (just in case) and headed up the stairs. Before we could even prepare ourselves, there she was…Venus de Milo…in all her glory.

I reached in my bag for my camera, hit the power button and it was at that exact moment that Venus decided to get her revenge for even considering “the bullet approach”. Like a slow motion film clip, the camera started to slip through my fingers. I reached too late and heard the crash of metal against granite. Not a pretty sound. Quelle horreur!! The camera hit the hard floor just as the lens was opening and just like that (in the blink of an eye; the slip of a hand) my photo taking adventure had come to an end.

It was a sad, sad moment. Frustrating. Maddening. An attempt to dampen my sense of humor, mais non (but no). With Tess’ handy camera in tow, we completed our “bullet” tour (even adding Winged Victory) although the timing was slowed down a bit due to much pushing of buttons and fiddling with lens to see if we could get the camera to work again.

"What next?" you might ask. “ From where have all the photos continued to come?” Well, the ones you see here were taken with Tess’ camera. We spent the rest of our morning in search of 1) a camera repair shop and/or 2) a camera store. It definitely led us to parts of Paris we had not intended to visit and we met several helpful people along the way who we would not have met otherwise. We kept reminding each other that every day is perfect in it’s own way!!!

Repairs for my simple camera would take 3 or 4 WEEKS! However, the earnest young saleswoman who spoke no English would not give up and called in 'back up' to help with my camera issues. Between the four of us (Tess, one sort of English-speaking salesgirl, one French-speaking and me), I am now the proud owner of the new generation of my broken camera. It uses the same battery and digital cartridge thus allowing me to miss only the shots in the museum (which Tess covered) and the ones along the way during our camera hunt through Paris.

Crazy stuff. Again feeling blessed in so many funny little ways. I am glad to share this with you and very glad to be able to continue photographing this delightful journey!!! One word of warning, however...if you ever decide the visit the Louvre consider carefully how you will approach it. Arms or no, Venus has amazing power!!!

And, just one more thing…Mona Lisa did NOT disappoint, but that’s another story ☺!