A Tale of Two Cities — well, mostly Paris!

I wrote this post yesterday morning, went to Publish, and realized the Wi-fi connection had been cut off partway through so I’d lost most of my work. Re-writing it with slightly less enthusiasm now that we’re in London. . . .

We’re packing up and heading for the Gare du Nord, catching the Eurostar to London. This time we’re determined to keep our eyes wide open and not miss the tunnel, as we did last year. And I can now confidently add that the tunnel darkness lasts for 15-20 minutes — we cannot understand how we missed it last year other than spontaneously nodding off!

Above is the photograph Pater took in the Luxembourg gardens in Thursday’s heat as we headed over to meet the delightfully warm, discerning-eyed You-Know Who of A Femme D’unCertain Age fame. I was understandably (I think) anxious about what to wear — what if Cherie lurked nearby? (although, really, what chance of that given the hoi polloi and the excessive heat?). Given the limitations of my small carry-on wardrobe, the 30+ temperature, and the many cobblestoned kilometres we’d be walking to our meet-up, I felt okay with what I came up with (YKW was ever-so-classy in navy linen with gorgeous chunky coral mixed with several strong gold chains). I’ve had the cotton-with-a-wee-bit-of-Spandex sundress for a few years — nicely packable; leopard-print Anne Klein ballerinas were on their second visit to Paris; ditto my M0851 bag (M0851 also have a shop in Paris which may be why my Knot bag felt so at home there).

We had great fun with YKW — Pater had a chance to talk politics, which always makes him happy, but he was also keen to figure out why some passers-by got YKW’s absolute approval and others were close-but-no-cigar. It generally came down to the shoes, and I was relieved I hadn’t worn my Birks!

The flats were reasonably comfortable, but still, I was glad the Luxembourg has all those chairs! And there were some concerts we could listen to, various high school bands and choirs performing, a lively excuse for sitting even longer, with a slight breeze making the shade even more alluring. (immediately noted the difference in our walk through London last evening, where every park’s green space is covered with people — choquant! — sitting on the grass!)

Walking through Paris, though, is always worth the sore feet, even in the heat. Even on our 8th visit, the last 6 moving through the same routes quite regularly, we only just last week spotted the house where James Joyce wrote Ulysses and nearby we peeked through this dramatic gate to the exotic-looking courtyard beyond
and imagined a life for ourselves in Paris . . .

I’m trying to remember what I wrote in my lost post and I think I’ve got most of it, although there were also Chopin posters in the park and Ladurée tea and shopping for Nola dresses with a GF,

OH, and a celebrity-spotting. Kim Raver (understatedly beautiful in elegant-casual clothes that could fit in anywhere, really) in a small St. Germain shop looking at vintage/2nd-hand Chanel/Dior/Hermès belts, jewelry, bags. We observed from a nearby cafe table where we were enjoying our Cokes and Leffe. She speaks fluent French so that at first I doubted my identification of her, but then we heard her speak equally fluent Am.-English. We left her alone, of course, to the anonymity she seemed to be enjoying. She has her Paris; we have ours; all of us lucky!

Two more days in London before we head home. I’m off now to make the lists of what to see and do in those two days. War Horses tonight and perhaps another show tomorrow night (I’m surprised how keen Pater has become on seeing the shows). The Tate Modern, a walk along the canal and perhaps an exploration of the Primrose Hill neighbourhood — but first the lists and a big English breakfast. I’ll report back soon — enjoy your day!