I wont be at the farmette until Monday, but I am, as of today, on my way home.
As I pack my light back pack, I shake my head with a smile: my fleece jacket remains with me, slung over an arm, unneeded. This is how good the weather has been these past three weeks in Europe: not once have I used anything other than, at most, a sweater. And not a thick sweater at that.
And I leave Warsaw in beautiful weather, too. While snow showers are passing over the farmette and a frost advisory is posted for Wisconsin, I look out of my sister's apartment and see this:
I keep telling everyone how much I have enjoyed this brief but intense visit to Warsaw. I think there are many reasons for it, but I have been told quite bluntly that perhaps I should learn something from it: in the last dozen years, I have always traveled to Poland in winters. Seeing Warsaw during a splendid set of autumnal days is...well, more cheerful!
I never know when I will return. But for now, as I sit at my sister's kitchen table sipping jasmine tea, I think how deeply happy I am to have been here.
My flight is to Paris. Remember? I left a suitcase there! It all seems so long ago, even though I just passed through this way three days back.
I have a rare taste of luxury in Paris. I'm staying at my old reliable little hotel near the Luxembourg Gardens, except it's not so reliable anymore as, after a total revamping, I doubt that the prices will ever be attractive to me again. (They're offering a "welcome back!" discount rate right now.) Perhaps this is a nostalgic good bye to my "Parisian home." I did well here when it was still in its scruffy state. Ah well.
I go for a walk.
My head is processing everything, so I walk. I mean, there were the weeks of solo travel. There is the book project. And then there was Warsaw. So I walk and think. Walk, walk, walk.
You know the buildings of Paris. Let's look at the people.
(in the park)
(back to selfies)
(what's the line for? Hermes pastries for the weekend)
(cafe life)
(ice cream weather)
(pastry store, family, dog)
(cafe life)
(have a taste!)
Finally, the tail end of this trip -- the last dinner. I make my way to Pouic Pouic.
The menu, simple and very short, adapts to the seasons, but I know I will always be happy with it.
So, I'm in Paris, in transit, and tomorrow I make my way to Minneapolis, to stop and say hi to my daughter there. My next post will be, therefore, from across the ocean.
As I pack my light back pack, I shake my head with a smile: my fleece jacket remains with me, slung over an arm, unneeded. This is how good the weather has been these past three weeks in Europe: not once have I used anything other than, at most, a sweater. And not a thick sweater at that.
And I leave Warsaw in beautiful weather, too. While snow showers are passing over the farmette and a frost advisory is posted for Wisconsin, I look out of my sister's apartment and see this:
I keep telling everyone how much I have enjoyed this brief but intense visit to Warsaw. I think there are many reasons for it, but I have been told quite bluntly that perhaps I should learn something from it: in the last dozen years, I have always traveled to Poland in winters. Seeing Warsaw during a splendid set of autumnal days is...well, more cheerful!
I never know when I will return. But for now, as I sit at my sister's kitchen table sipping jasmine tea, I think how deeply happy I am to have been here.
My flight is to Paris. Remember? I left a suitcase there! It all seems so long ago, even though I just passed through this way three days back.
I have a rare taste of luxury in Paris. I'm staying at my old reliable little hotel near the Luxembourg Gardens, except it's not so reliable anymore as, after a total revamping, I doubt that the prices will ever be attractive to me again. (They're offering a "welcome back!" discount rate right now.) Perhaps this is a nostalgic good bye to my "Parisian home." I did well here when it was still in its scruffy state. Ah well.
I go for a walk.
My head is processing everything, so I walk. I mean, there were the weeks of solo travel. There is the book project. And then there was Warsaw. So I walk and think. Walk, walk, walk.
You know the buildings of Paris. Let's look at the people.
(in the park)
(back to selfies)
(what's the line for? Hermes pastries for the weekend)
(cafe life)
(ice cream weather)
(pastry store, family, dog)
(cafe life)
(have a taste!)
Finally, the tail end of this trip -- the last dinner. I make my way to Pouic Pouic.
The menu, simple and very short, adapts to the seasons, but I know I will always be happy with it.
So, I'm in Paris, in transit, and tomorrow I make my way to Minneapolis, to stop and say hi to my daughter there. My next post will be, therefore, from across the ocean.
