Paris Journal 2014 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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As Yogi Berra
said, “It ain’t over ‘til it’s over.” Even though a major sticking point has been
eliminated in the negotiations between the pilots’ union and Air France, the
strike is continuing, at least until Monday or Tuesday. Flight 90, on which we are booked for
Sunday, was cancelled each day that I checked this week (Tuesday, Thursday,
and today). At this point, I doubt
we’ll be able to return home on Sunday.
Darn! I had some pretty good
seats booked – two together, in a row by themselves – for that flight on
Sunday. It’s a shame to lose that. Staying another
day or two has its advantages, of course.
But it isn’t like we’d have two more days of “vacation.” We are not here on vacation. In fact, Tom noted over dinner last night,
“You know, I’ve done A LOT of work this summer.” As I explain to
people frequently, we don’t travel around in the summer, and we aren’t
tourists. We work at our computers
during the day, and just go out walking and dining in the evening. Paris is just where we live in the summer. That’s why I get to feeling overwhelmed by
tourists here just as Parisians do, and just as we Sanibelians
do in Winter. My work is
various; yesterday and today, I spent hours and hours on the newsletter for
the Zonta
Club of Sanibel-Captiva. I miss my
friends there. Yesterday
evening’s walk took us all the way through the Luxembourg Gardens and the
parks to the south of them. Then we
walked along the storied boulevard Montparnasse to the boulevard Raspail, and back over into the Luxembourg via the
pedestrian-busy rue Vavin. Several times I
let my eyes scan over the throngs of people filling the sidewalks; it
reminded me of those often shown videos of Manhattan sidewalks, crammed with
people moving quickly, flowing like a rapid river, to wherever they’re going. Inside the park
fence again, it was relatively calm.
We’d been walking for an hour by then, and decided to occupy a couple
metal chairs to catch the last rays of the sun as it was inching down toward
the trees. The sun was warm, and the
flowerbeds were still full of splendor. The temperature
dropped just enough that we decided we better return to the apartment for
warmer coats before we ventured out for dinner. So that gave us another half hour of
walking. We returned to
Le Petit Medicis for dinner, because our first visit
there was such a success. This time,
we shared six great, fat, hot, juicy escargots. Then it was Tom’s turn to have fish – a
fascinating panier
of salmon and Asian-style veggies – and I had the rib steak, giving most of
my fries (and some steak) to Tom. Like
a real Frenchie, I saved the green salad for last,
after the steak and luscious Bearnaise sauce were
consumed. Dessert was the
millefeuille
that the server had recommended the last time we dined there. It was heavenly.
The millefeuille at Le Petit Medicis,
on the rue de Medicis.
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Friday, September 26, 2014
Le Petit Medicis uses the pattern of the floor tiles as the
graphic background on its business cards.
Very pretty.
The panier, a
wooden basket, of marinated salmon with Asian veggies. It arrived at the table with a wooden lid,
which the server removed.
A rib steak that any American steak house would be proud to
serve.
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