~sad, beautiful day~

April 27th, 2007

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We went to Notre Dame and I lit a candle for Jim and Xie.
I cried by the Seine, thinking how hokey it is to light a candle at Notre Dame and then cry by the Seine and how much I would have liked to tell Jim. I lit it under the statue of Joan of Arc.

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Ali and I walk, walk, walk, and end up meeting our Parisian hosts to exchange keys at Les Editeurs cafe at Carrefour de l’Odéon in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. I chose the café because the online research I’ve done promises “real French writers” hang out here. I don’t see any. The girls had a great time in New York, and are sorry to be back so soon. I try not to think about leaving tomorrow.

We wander from there through a galleria, a long stone-paved alley line with shops and cafes. I buy a long moss green skirt with ties on the side that gather and wear it out of the shop. The gal who sells it to me (and I think made it) tells me twice it is perfect for me because I am grande.

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Ali and I buy matching jewel-toned scarves from India—his silvery-blue-grey (dashing!) and mine iridescent red-blue-purple. How couple-y can you get?

We head to our last diner, a return to Le Baratin. We are seated well, on a long bench I share with the house kitty, Beaujolais. The restaurant is nearly empty when we arrive at eight on a Saturday night, by nine it is packed with Frenchies drinking, smoking, snacking. A real scene.

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The chef serves us personally. She embraces the regulars with wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I score points when caught scratching the tummy of my furry dinner companion. I think if we came back a third time, we’d get kissed on the cheek too.

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The whole day has a bitter-sweet air, the feeling of departure hangs around. It hasn’t taken us long to get in the rhythm of French living and returning to Brooklyn seems, well, less French.

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One Response to “~sad, beautiful day~”

  1. Habib says:

    Greetings from Vienna. Five hour lay-over on my way to Delhi. Finally get to look at your lovely pictures. Miss you.

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