June 21

Paris, the city of lights and surprises

Friday started out as a typical day for us in Paris. 

Rewind. Did I really just say that because typical infers the ordinary, the commonplace, the things you do all the time and  I am still pinching myself everyday that I am here. Nonetheless, it did start out as a typical day.

Friday  was  for the 18th, Montmarte. It wasn't my first or even second visit but the view from Sacre Couer never gets old. We started out with a walking tour, an adorable young French guide Olivier. 

He was charming with impeccable English and a great sense of humor, which I think is triply hard in your non native tongue.  As we parted, him with a tip and a us with a lunch recommendation,  we gave him our card hoping to see him in the fall, when he is interning in NY at the Met, offering to show him the spectacular art in Philadelphia though he seemed reluctant to believe that the Barnes could rival the D'Orsay.

His lunch rec was as non -touristy as it can get at the 'top of the hill' and I indulged in my first quiche of the trip which was creamy and light, caramelized on top with only the hint of crust on the bottom. And yes a bottle of wine because although I am not sure it is a national law, it is a tenent of our stay that every meal except breakfast has wine, bottles always better than glasses.

So satiated, we went fabric shopping, yes I said that right, fabric shopping. The streets leading up to Sacre Couer are lined with fabric shops, each four or five stories filled with everything you can imagine and so our next package home will be weighed down with a couple of meters of linen and cotton that will magically appear on my table at some future French dinner with friends.

Heading back down Rue de Abbesses (street of the nuns from when Montmarte was a religious area before the factory workers came, then the artisit came and eventually the Bobos moved in) we stopped at all the food shops to buy dinner. At #6 a baguette from the Boulangerie who won the

 # 1 spot in the annual Paris competition for which the reward is supplying the President Of France's kitchen with baguettes for an entire year (and yes according to Steve it was the best he has had so far also). The poissonierre provided shrimp and white anchovies,

 the produce stand some additions for the salade and finally, the patisserie a slice of a peach blueberry tart.  Popping into the Espicerie  shop we finally were able to find Quatre Espices or four spices, a tantalizing spice mix replacing boring black pepper that a friend at home introduced us to and we love and will be in that next box home! And yes if you are reading this GLB, we bought enough to share.

With our purchases complete, we hopped  back on the 9 Line, changed to the 1 and voila were back in Le Marais for dinner and a quiet night at home.

The streets outside were buzzing and we figured it was a typical Friday night, live music, tents set up in the square and people everywhere.  We were content to listen and look out the window while we were desperately trying to translate websites and buy tickets for a concert.  But that proved to be frustrating and boring, so even though we had already logged at least five miles on our legs, we headed out for a walk. 

Turns out that when you can't speak or read French, you can't listen to the local news, you buy the Pariscope but there is no English, you have no concierge because you are not in a hotel, you have no clue that the ENTIRE city is celebrating something. Is it the equinox? The first day of summer? Perhaps.

All we know is that on our entire walk past St Paul, to I'le St. Loius, to I'le de Cite and back on every corner, and sometimes twice in a single block, were live bands, street performers and hundreds and hundreds of people....all over the entire city. We sat outside Notre Dame on bleachers listening to a band while darkness fell and Notre Dame lit up. We walked the  Ponts  over the Seine watching the tour boats and private yachts  twinkling by. We passes Hotel De Ville where the saints and sinners in the niches were haloed by halogens. THIS was Paris the  City of lights!

Turns out it was part of Faites de la Musique (meaning make music) an international celebration of a night of music in 460 cities.  It went on into the late hours of the night as Steve can attest to as he sleeplessly was still listening at 2am.  But as of this morning, the sun was shining and looking out the window, every tent was packed up and every scrap of trash gone and a new quiet Paris Saturday morning has begun our second week here. 

Sometimes not reading French doesn't matter at all, you can still hear the music and see the lights.