Day 16: Au Revoire

Today was spent lazily wandering the Marais and shopping. Clouds moved back in, and merchants returned to their posts smoking cigarettes in the doorways of their shops. We collected a few souvenirs for friends, and a few articles of clothing for ourselves. Greg tried on a handsome grey cowl necked sweater and a pair of slate colored pants that fit like a glove. "We'll think about it." We said as we left. "Don't think too long." the couturier replied with a knowing smile "When it's right, it's right." Boy, has he got Greg pegged I thought to myself. Sure enough half a block away Greg doubled back to purchase the whole ensemble. A bag containing a beautiful purple paisley scarf  that caught my eye soon dangled next to Greg's.

   Suddenly, a flash of lightning lit up the afternoon sky interrupting our shopping reverie. As thunder rolled through the humid air and large raindrops began to fall we dashed into a little cafe for lunch. Sitting under the awning and watching the rain fall we amused ourselves with fantasies of selling all our worldly belongings and moving to Paris. By the time we had worked out most of the totally unrealistic details the sun had returned, and lunch was finished.

   With heavy hearts we finally began walking back to the hotel to retrieve our bag and return to the bus station. A depressing silence descended, and in an effort to lighten the mood I turned to Greg and quipped, "Well at least now whenever things get really bad we can tell each other 'We'll always have Paris.'"

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

Day 14: Bon Jour Paris

It was still so dark when we departed that the popping of my ears was the only sign we had entered the Chunnel. Only after emerging and racing across the French countryside for a bit did a rolling pastoral patchwork of fields slowly appear in the morning light. Thin wefts of mist lay in the hollows, and occasionally a farm or church would flash past. Then suddenly the bucolic landscape became city, and we were pulling in to Gare du Nord station. We had arrived in Paris.


  As we shouldered our bags and headed toward our hotel Greg started quizzing me about the Marais district where it was situated. He gave me a dubious look when I told him that the Marais was home to the Parisian gay neighborhood. I had to admit the street we were trudging down looked a little run down and sad, but I was reserving judgement until we were able to see a bit more of the city. We almost missed our hotel the Hotel Jardin du Marais which was actually a collection of buildings situated around a narrow courtyard. The room was tiny (of course) but nicely decorated. We quickly stashed our bag, and grabbed breakfast, or petit déjeuner, and began our Parisian adventure in earnest.


 Wandering through narrow streets toward Notre Dame we had the happy realization that our hotel was indeed located on the northern edge of the city's gayborhood. We made our way down it's narrow streets filled with men's clothing stores, grooming boutiques, and sidewalk cafes filled with handsome and stylish men; eventually finding ourselves on the bank of  the Seine. A bridge took us to the small island, Île Saint-Louis, and then another bridge led us to the larger Île de la Cité where Notre Dame sits. We slowly walked around the gothic wonder joining the other tourists in the plaza situated in front of the cathedral.

  Greg noticed that a tour bus company had it's main hub at the end of the plaza, and proposed that we get a two day pass to use as our transportation around the city. This turned out to be a brilliant idea. As the temperature steadily climbed to the high 70's we rode comfortably around the city enjoying the sights, and hopping off occasionally to get a closer look.  We made our way by the Louvre and Tulleries, and then up Champs-Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe. After circling around the Arc we headed back toward the Seine past the Tracadero and finally the Eiffel tower where we lingered to take in the massive structure.

  For a beautiful afternoon the lines to Tour Eiffel were unexpectedly short, and we took advantage of this opportunity. As I waited on the second platform for Greg to return from the top I amused myself by imagining an allegorical painting like those I had recently seen in British museums. In this painting London and Paris are depicted in human form having a mid-day meal. London is a prim and stately beauty sipping tea with a outstretched finger. Her head is cocked and eyebrow slightly raised in disapproval of her dining companion. Paris is a swarthy lothario slouching in his chair. He stares seductively over his glass of wine not at London, but at the painting's observer.



Day 14 Photostream