Friday, December 12, 2014

returning home

In the evening of my last day in Paris, I leave the warmth of my little apartment and head out to Pouic Pouic for dinner. It's only a five minute stroll, but I take a circuitous route, through the Bucci intersections where the cafes always, even in winter, spill out onto the streets, giving the impression of a canvas of the good life.


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It never fails to make me smile. This neighborhood is on the young side (I think of thirties as being young) and the energy level is high.

And when I then walk into Pouic Pouic, there, too, the energy level is high.

It's a good way to end a trip. For me, the familiarity of it all counts. At the restaurant, I know the informal tables that sometimes rock just a tiny bit. I know the chef (Nicolas), with his pony tail just so -- here he is, working the small open  kitchen, training the next generation of cooks:


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And the proprietors know me. I'm not a great guest -- I don't buy bottles of wine, I occupy a table with only one cover, but the French like familiarity too and so they make a point of greeting me as if I lived just around the corner rather than thousands of miles away. And this feels especially warm at the end of a trip when I've gone too long without friends or family or Ed.

They say -- Ah, here you are, always furiously writing something between courses! And with your camera! Yes, my date is my notebook, my friend is my camera.

The meal is excellent -- pumpkin soup, scallops, fruits and chocolate something or other. The price never varies. There are no surprises.

I leave happy.


I wake up an hour before my alarm goes off. I take care of some nonsense with online reservations -- that takes a good bit of time! -- and then I'm off, checking to make sure the apartment is in good shape, taking out the garbage to the bins in the back. (For my efforts here I get a huge reprimand from the building manager who comes out and reminds me (as if I knew) that you are not to throw garbage away before 8. Oops. It's only 6.)

The street is feel empty now, but only as compared to Paris at other times.


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There is always traffic, there are always a few people rushing somewhere. Still, it feels quiet.

I walk by the Luxembourg Palace that abuts the Gardens...


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...and then it's just a hop and a skip to the RER commuter rail, where I wait for my train to the airport.


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Here's my last photo from Paris. Predictable. I am that.


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In the air now. Over the ocean. Quite literally. Delta has received permission to put thingamajigies on top of the plane (that's how the flight attendant describes it to me) that allow it to pick up signals and give us WiFi in flight. I wont always splurge for this service (it's the price of a lunch in Paris), but I have nine hours worth of online work and so you get this post sent from way up high.

16 comments:

  1. I don't know if my comment went thru...

    welcome home! Loved all the photos.

    Paul got vertigo in the night and we've been up since 3 --- we just did an Epley Maneuver on him and he is very tentative now... he has vertigo! Not fun...I've had it and Epley fixed mine.... so fingers crossed for him.

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    1. eek! Paul has had a rough month! Sending all my good wishes!

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  2. I am such a silly old woman. I burst into tears at the close of this journey. I've backtracked the past few days to read your journal entries - especially enjoying the post accompanied with music.

    I skipped over an article the other day - it offered a theory on why we cry when we're happy. I'm going to Google and see if there's an article on why we sometimes cry when we see beauty. *mopping eyes*

    I've been planning my memorial service, which some people plan decades in advance... I hope that's true for me. *laughing* For centering music at the beginning of the service I've chosen as a nod to my French mother (she grew up with her French speaking grandparents), Claire de Lune. I've chosen as a nod to my Irish father, Be Thou my Vision. Both are exceptionally beautiful.

    But I think it's been the recent days of listening to Claire de Lune that so deeply connected me to your recent travels. I felt transported. Connected. And I thank you for your beautiful ways with words and photographs. As it should be with creative gifts, you make it all seem so effortless.

    Love.

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    1. I cry at the oddest times -- swell up with positive emotion. It's good to feel things deeply. So, not silly at all.
      Such a generous comment -- Thank you. And yes, beautiful music selections and may you not need them for a long while.
      love indeed.

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  3. Welcome back, at least if indeed you are back.

    It is nice, isn't it, to be recognized on your return trips to Paris. Or anywhere in France, such as a couple of waiters at Deux Palmieres in Nice. But no wonder. I could eat there every night. I'm not a French fine-dining enthusiast, but they prepare cafe food very well and I leave there happy. The hotel staff in Paris recognize me.

    You had my breakfast, almost. (Is there a baguette hiding anywhere?) I guess having the wifi in the plane is nice. I sometimes write and save it in a folder to be sent as soon as I hit wifi on the ground. My problem is plugging in the laptop. The plug is somewhere about ankle level on the armrest between seats and I can't get my head down there to see the orientation of the plug orifices and whether they are French or American style.

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    1. Delta just introduced plugs at the economy class level. It's the first time that I had the luxury of it back there with the sardines (it's been years since they gave me an upgrade for free!).
      When are you next traveling?

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    2. The next firmish plan to go back France (airline ticket purchased) isn't until late September. A tentative writing class reunion in April had to be postponed. I have a great quilting seminar to go to in March at Asilomar. Do you know that place down near Monterey?

      Seems like the airlines only give the better rewards to the higher rollers. Seems to me I was getting no more than half miles, maybe less, in sardine class.It's more like full miles in premium economy, then some bonus miles get thrown in for I-don't-know-why. Also get points sometimes for taking surveys.

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  4. I am laughing about you taking the garbage out two hours early. We have a rule here where no one can vacuum after 11:00 p.m. I thought they were kidding. That is way too late to be vacuuming. I am glad no one does it then.

    I enjoyed all the photos.

    Delta Airlines. Now that is a strange name for an airline. Delta being the last stage of deepest sleep.

    But, really my biggest curiosity is.....will Oreo accept you graciously back?

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  5. You mention that the wifi is as expensive as lunch in Paris. If you don't mind my asking, how expensive is lunch in Paris?

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    1. Where's a *like* thingy when ya need one?

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    2. Oh, this is a tough Q to answer (I assume you are genuinely curious about this?): for the average person (not high end and not unemployed), the cheapest lunch out is a take out baguette sandwich and a pastry eaten on a park bench. That's about 10 Euros (or $12.50). Next comes the cafe lunch of a simple type (for those planning on a big evening meal): say a Madame Croque sandwich, a glass of wine (which is always cheaper than soda), a dessert and coffee: maybe 20 Euro. Then comes the bistro type lunch with very many people eat on their break from work. That's a two or three course meal and on the average, expect to pay just shy of 30 Euro -- with either appetizer and main, or main and dessert, with maybe a soda and a coffee. So I thought the Delta inflight charge was rather high -- as I recall, about $35. But it was for a nine hour flight. For this one time, I went for it, but typically, I do just work off line and wait until I have WiFi at the airport. Just this time, I'd fallen behind with emails and such, so I bit the bullet and paid.

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  6. I liked the early morning walk past the palace.. the blue-lit Christmas trees were striking. I sat with that photo for a while, zoomed in and imagined myself walking to my car there, which impressed upon me the majestically GRAND SCALE of the scene. Marvelous!

    The Parisians are a hearty group. I noticed the heavy jackets and could not imagine why anyone would want to have their drink in the cold. Did they have heat lamps above them? I see the red glow. Now that could be a cozy little island of warmth.
    I am such a hobbit. Small cozy cheerful & warm is what I want in the winter, very mammalian :)
    I'm sure I have gained five pounds in the last month. "A little in the middle" is what the young girls say... a nice comfy cushion for holding our babygirl !

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    1. The French actually are less hearty than the Midwesterners. Their indoor spaces are heated just to my liking (which is warmer than most people here would have it here). But they tolerate summer heat better than Americans. (And I am closer to them in this as well.) I have never ever had the unpleasant experience of eating at a place that is so cold because of the AC that I need a sweater in the summer. Never. It's always just slightly warm, like it should be in the summer. In the States, I am ALWAYS too cold at indoor places during the warmer months. Offices, restaurants -- all of it, absolutely freezing because of AC.
      And yes, they do have heat lamps at nearly all the French cafes. It keeps them pleasant most of the year. That and the body heat! Many choose to eat or drink outdoors because smoking is permitted there. Ugh! That's a real down side for me -- to be so unlucky as to sit down next to a smoker. I usually evaluate very carefully the likelihood of this, but you can't always tell. In Italy, they forbid smoking even in outdoor terraces of public eateries, but France hasn't gone that far. A shame.

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