Day 15: C'est Si Bon

  Today, the twenty-second day of September 2010, the planets aligned, and the  heavens conspired to create a singularly perfect day in Paris. Climbing the 300 steps to the top of Sacre Coeur this morning I was already beginning to feel the heat that would eventually reach a record breaking 77 F. On reaching the pinnacle of the church that sits atop Montmartre a sweeping view of  Paris spread out before me under a cloudless blue sky. I felt a little thrill just like the kind that sometimes accompanies a first kiss, and I realised I had crossed a line. This was no mere crush. I was falling hard for a city I barely knew and like a suitor with plenty of practice, Paris laid on the charm.

   We strolled in the shade of the elm-lined boulevards, and observed a city teaming with residents enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. The breeze that would occasionally cool us, and make the gold-tinged leaves dance held no scent of autumn. More than one shop we passed was dark without any sign or scribbled note left as explanation. Do they ever work? I wondered. I could hardly blame them, though. On such a lovely day who wouldn't steal away for an extra long lunch? In fact, the cafes and bistros seemed to be the only places you could reliably expect to find open for business. I spent time myself that afternoon eating a croque monsieur and sipping coke from a cold glass bottle at a little cafe in the shadow of Notre Dame before joining Greg at the hotel to freshen up for evening on the town.

  We arrived at the Eiffel Tower just as the sun was setting, and stayed long enough to watch the lights appear. Then we were off to the nearby boat launch for a nighttime cruise on the Seine. The first harvest moon to rise on the autumnal equinox in almost twenty years glowed brightly in the sky. It's silvery light revealed river banks filled with groups of people drinking wine and couples walking hand in hand. No sappy sentimental movie could even come close to the romantic perfection we had experienced that day. But the evening wasn't quite over.

  On disembarking the riverboat we realized we hadn't really figured out how we were going to get back to our hotel. The tour bus we had been using as transportation about the city had long since quit its rounds, and the thought of trying to communicate with a French taxi driver was intimidating. After a brief discussion we decided to walk back, and stop for dinner near our hotel. So we walked, and walked, and walked. Realising we had severely misjudged the distance to the Marais we were still a little surprised to find when we arrived all of the restaurants had stopped serving food. In desperation we forced our rubbery legs on to a street were I was sure I had seen a McDonald's.

  Luckily, or so we thought, we passed an Alsatian restaurant that was still open. "Order quickly." the waiter advised, "The kitchen is about to close." We both ordered the house specialty figuring that was a safe bet. Our stomachs growled as we waited impatiently for our meal. When the steaming platter arrived our eyes widened in surprise. The huge mound of sauerkraut was topped by various sausages including a hot dog, ham, what looked like a chunk of boiled bacon, and two pig knuckles.

  Greg's eyes rose from the plate to meet mine. "Dibs on the ham." he said.

 Day 15 Photostream