Sunday, October 3, 2010
i love it when this happens
On my way back to the apartment after my long and lovely expedition on Saturday, four women stopped to ask directions. I would guess they were from New Jersey or New York, listening to them. One said, rather timidly, "Do you speak English." Thinking fast I said, "Oui, un peu." They were thrilled at the prospect of real communication. "Oh good. Where is the Eiffel Tower?" I should add that she spoke very slowly and very loudly, just in case that helped in the translation. I turned, pointed to the tower which could be clearly seen if you looked in the right direction and said, "Jusqu'a la bas." They were effusive in their thanks - "Oh, mer-see, mer-see" - and my new best friends went merrily on their way. Moi? I smiled to myself at myself for two reasons. The first was a smile for them. Here they were, four friends, adrift in Paris, having a marvelous time together. The second was for me, that I should even be here to point them in the right direction. Someone else stopped me and asked where I got my hair cut. "En Californie," I replied. Eyebrows shot up and the only-the-French-do-it "Ooosh" came out through puckered, very lipsticked lips. Isn't this stuff great?
Sunday didn't happen the way I had hoped. My plan was to go over to Notre Dame for the morning organ concert, then take in the bird market and the flower market. As luck would have it, it was a clear, sunny day and I was ready to go about 10 AM. I walked down to the river, turned right and headed toward the Ile St. Louis and the cathedral. But about half way there I realized I wasn't going to make it, that the jet lag I thought I had avoided was descending over me and that I better get back to the apartment as soon as I could. I did stop and have a brunch/lunch of gorgeous bowl of onion soup, fragrant and thick and cheesy and crusty.
I headed home, stopping only at a boulangerie for some bread and to admire this display of beautiful little tarts. Looks like something straight off a Wayne Thiebaud canvas.
I got back to the apartment about 2 PM, took off my shoes, pulled up the blanket and slept for 3 hours. So no birds, no flowers, no gorgeous music this trip, although there is another concert on Thursday and I'll try for that one. I will be over in the 6th by then, closer to the church. Instead, I feel much better and only hope I haven't paid off my sleep debt in full and can rest tonight.
I know I'm a day behind in my reporting. Full story on Saturday's rue Cler shopping, with pictures, later.