Something about Paris

Something about Paris

May 31st, 2018

Bonjour Paris,

I am currently on a direct line train from Paris to Bayonne. Excuse me, for my writing has quite a bit of ground to cover and this morning's start didn't help. ~ To be continued on this morning's adventure.

After several run-ins with Nico's mom (a sweet mother of a friend whom I had the sincere pleasure of meeting briefly in Boulder) on the bus, in line at the security check-point. Albeit she was quite sweet and very communicative about the histories of Paris & the Camino, I was eager to begin my journey alone.

The nine hour flight was less than stellar.

I did however find time to read more of Thomas Merton's New Seeds of Contemplation a bit more. Ironically, there was a father and his son sitting next to me.

Every now & again the son would find himself cozying up next to me throughout the night, wake up, realize whose shoulder he was on & return to his father's side shoulder.

As I ride through the countryside of Bordeaux//St. Jean, I grow quite sleepy & realize my pen is quite lacking with it's inconsistencies of writing.

I will have finally arrived in Paris and met Ian Atkinson at the 'Arrivals' section of Terminal One. In tremendous joy & excitement, we headed for the train to downtown Paris. Upon arrival, we took the celebratory photos of each other and walked down the main strip headed towards 5 Rue des Lombards, our guest home on the top floor provided by local Parisian Lauren Liot (who herself is from Bordeaux).

Shortly thereafter, we marched onward to the outer parts of Notre Dame du Paris & St.Chapelle. On a corner street, just outside of St.Chapelle, I had my first baguette experience in the form of a sandwich.

Magnifique!

The sandwich contained zuccini, brie, tomato & lettuce. (Off to find another pen in either Bayonne or St. Jean)
///
People Watching at a Cafe (Tuesday, 29th of May)

Finally found my other pen, and yet how remarkably clear my thoughts are ~ especially in a dining hall in Roncesvalles. But more about Roncesvalles a bit later, I'll discuss briefly my walk through Paris.

As I found Notre Dame, I asked Ian if he wanted to avoid the long line there & keep walking. So we agreed to find some cafe & venture towards The Shakespeare & Company Cafe//Bookstore. Great writers used to make appearances & congregrate there, however it was quite pricy so Ian & I reverted to people watching outside the cafe.

From the cafe, I could recognize women with accents, and also from the U.S. ~ who must have been studying around for the summer. Although the site was quite a Parisian experience, what made the cherry was an elderly man playing his accordion. As we walked from that cool scene of a moment, we found ourselves in a nearby park/courtyard. Inside, a young Blonde doing the splits and a boy & his father sitting near us enjoying a simple ukulele session I broke into for a brief moment in time.

We progressed past the first baguette sandwich, walked in a northern oval manner for a few miles, finding two lovely gals sitting outside a cafe near a small garden. We found ourselves at a literal crossroads & a decision to make...

I definitely hesitated & in doing so, overthought the situation & hustled into the cafe in desperation. I made up my mind to use the bathroom for no purpose - with the exception of buying time. From the downstairs basement, I arose and found two seats & a table available outside next to the chicas. However, just as I was making my move, a couple sliced through the dead air of the night & took our table!

oUr fate was sealed

Another door closes... & another opportunity arises:

We took a sharp right, around the corner of that previously mentioned cafe & just felt that this particular cafe was "the spot".

We attempted our half-hearted spoken French at our lady behind the pastry & register stand. Ian ordered a baguette sandwich & cafe con sucre, & I found a perfectly placed lemon pie.

Upon which we found to be true ~ the people watching was superb.

I took a momentary sip of Ian's cafe with no previous knowledge of the added sucre... To my displeasure, I kept on eating the lemon pie. Unbeknownst to me, my displeasure was not well disguised ~ as Ian remembered how I typically enjoy my cafe.

Nevertheless, Ian & I stared to the left & to the right and found brilliant conversation at yet another crossroads. We took a seat in the heart of the downtown scene. What was near was a cave/literature store next to a gelato shoppe on the opposing cobblestone street across from us, and beside our cafe ~ a cafe con wifi but not as simple as our bread & pastry shoppe where we chose to stay. And nothing was more delightful than the sweet & lowdown expectations from sitting in a Parisian cafe for a couple of hours. juUcX4dTRLqNOAGWoIKOEg-1 IMG_2202-1

Above pictured: My Doppelgänger twenty years ahead of me and the Notre Dame du Paris
// Ian enjoying an cafe at the boulangerie & patisserie we spent hours at.