I hope you're not waiting for the post with me and the Eiffel Tower in the background. Or me waving from the top of the Arc de Triomphe, or scaling the gold statue Génie de la Liberté atop the Bastile, hanging from a gargoyle's neck at Notre Dame, sliding down the Louvre pyramid. Um. You aren't are you?
Whew. I'm relieved.
I have some "villages" to explore this time around. Right in the middle of Paris. 3 metro lines and about 20 staircases later I landed HERE:
and of course very few people which i loved most of all.
I am in my true deep element when i am out tramping alone through foreign streets. My wanderings have quirks. I stop. Start. Turn around. Go back 3 paces. Look up. Lots of looking up coupled with moments of intense scrutiny of the ground. What is that? Where did that come from? Where is that sound coming from?
Camera in one hand – video in the other. I am a stranger from a strange land who has come to record every detail of the empty space. the time in between other times. the part of the day when almost everyone has gone home and left me to worship the streets alone. So happy!
THIS is why I'm here. THIS is what I came to see. I am happiest in these outer reaches, besides I've seen the highlights on other trips. Now I am out to conquer the double digit arrondissements. I have a dozen outings like this planned. Plus some more traditional places I just HAVE to visit on the regular Paris circuit. Those will come eventually. For now, street art:
Today you tapped me on the arm and asked if I was ready to stop acting strange and enjoy a treat. You don't have to ask me twice. We went into a patisserie and I picked out the prettiest confection with the longest name I couldn't begin to pronounce. The nice lady wrapped it in crinkly bakery paper and handed it to me. We walked to a tiny park with a tiny bench and I took this picture. Then I put this in my mouth, closed my eyes, opened my eyes wide, started making this-is-good noises, licked my fingers. Maybe if it had a big crunchy snail on top it would have been something other than extremely delicious.
I don't know what you had, but it was twice as big and twice as messy. I didn't look at you when you ate it.
There were pretty yellow trees blooming nearby. We felt giddy. The park bench was high and we swung our feet while eating.
We took the 67 bus back home. I wrote in my travel journal and uploaded photos for this post. You snuck into the kitchen and swiped your finger through the sea salt butter.
Several hours later it was time for dinner. I love that. The way you get hungry and are forced to eat something really good again. We went to the place that nice Mim recommended in the blog comments yesterday. Turns out it's only a few blocks from l'appartement. And it was full of French people! We knew it was going to be good.
The house wine was red and smoky. Perfection.
I ordered duck in prune sauce. You didn't bat an eye when I cut my napkin in 2 and tucked it into my white shirt. Thanks for that.
On the way home through the dark streets I looked up and saw this window. Maybe inside there is a child on a feather bed reading a storybook. Dreaming about a trip she will take when she grows up.
Corky my cat nanny, wrote a post over HERE. She sends me funny emails and tells me what the cats are doing.