I once purchased a kids book that emphasized only one thing -- in France, everyone says bonjour. That was the title (Everybody Bonjours), that was the message. And it's a good one: don't even think of starting a conversation with a clerk, a store keeper, a bar tender -- anyone! -- without first saying bonjour. It's not just a habit. It's born of the belief that every human relationship, even the most trivial one with a stranger is meaningful. On the rare occasion that I would forget this, I get that look -- ah, she's one of those. Sometimes, especially in rural areas of the country, I have been openly reprimanded for forgetting.
So -- bonjour mes amis!
I look out my window onto an empty street.
(to the left)
It's Sunday. Parisians don't rush this day.
(to the right)
(The hotel has quadruple panes to keep the street noise out. It's the second hotel of my trip that has such incredible soundproofing. In the Villa Copenhagen I had arguably the noisiest room of the city: just one floor up from the major intersection in front of the railway station. I heard nothing.)
The young family is sleeping in: the kids are on their late morning/late night schedule. I leave them to their rest and go down to breakfast.
This is where I know we'll do better here than at my beloved Hotel Baume, where the breakfast room is small and not altogether great for young ones. Here, there's plenty of space and plenty of food! And it strikes me that this is why I love smaller hotels (d'Aubusson and Baume both have about 40 rooms spread over five floors): the breakfast is meaningful. At the Villa, though superbly choreographed, it was crazy busy. It was all about getting food into you at the start of the day. Not here.
I dont know about you, but I surely love love love intimate, meaningful breakfasts.
And then I take a brief solo stroll. Toward the park.
(a French papa and his petite)
Because it's Paris.
There was an article in the NYTimes last week that said this truth that every visitor should hold dear: just walk the city. Pause if you're tired, snatch a coffee or a vin blanc and then walk some more. Skip the checklist. Just walk.
They should have added a P.S. -- dont have knee replacement surgery two months before a planned trip to Paris, but I have been training for this and so I am ready. (Heck with the therapeutic window on this trip!) And as I walk, I study the faces -- of the visitors, of the Parisians. Of people who share this moment with me on the streets of this city.
And then the young family is up and I join them for their breakfast.
Well, half of them. Juniper crashes this morning with one of those travel bugs that comes suddenly and usually ends just as suddenly. In any case, the dad stays with her while she rests up this morning, while the mom and Primrose come down for the morning meal.
[We are not the only three generational family here. Earlier, I met two sisters with their kids and the grandparents. Caveat: their kids are high school/college age. Is that easier? Well, the focus there is on the grandpa who is of poor health. The dilemmas of life: take them when everyone's young, or take them when you're old! I vote for door number 1!]
Juniper continues to rest up with dad.
(Taking a tray of breakfast foods up to them...)
My daughter, Primrose and I head out. Toward the Bon Marche Department store, with many pauses and stops along the way. Because there is so much to see!
And so many merry-go-rounds to try out!
And toys to admire! And pretty dresses and t-shirts to consider.
And at the Food Halls (La Grande Epicerie), we pick up the season's best: apricots! I have found peaches in the US that I think are the best in the world, but I have yet to find apricots that are as sweet and delicious as the ones grown on this side of the ocean. So we buy apricots. And cherries and sandwiches to take back to the hotel. Oh, and a nectarine galette for me!
(fraises des bois!)
I have to give Primrose credit: it's a long hike both ways and the stopping to shop can additionally add to the strain of the day. She holds up until the bitter end.
(One more stop! At the pastry shop for eclairs for the girls. The flavor of the month -- raspberry.)
Just by the hotel, we meet up with Juniper and her dad. The girl seems to have recovered her bounce! We pick up some coffees at a nearby cafe...
... and head back to the hotel where the young family picnics in their rooms...
... and I take my treats and settle in for a small rest in my own corner.
In the late afternoon we all head out again. We have a reservation at the Orangerie. No, no, it's not a restaurant -- it's a museum and it has Monet's Waterlilies and they are magnificent! If you have any interest in art, you will remember them forever once you have stood before them (do you agree?).
Getting to l'Orangerie is no small matter, but the girls are well rested and Juniper seems way better (one of those super duper quick recoveries) and so we walk. Along the banks of the River Seine.
Primrose remembers from one of her books that there is a glass pyramid by the Louvre and she really really wants to see it, so we detour a bit, then get back on track!
(a first sighting of the Eiffel Tower.)
And, we meet up with a dad and his son -- same ones who were with us in Copenhagen! They're not following us. They have family in Paris. We ramble a little with them...
And then we rush to meet our reserved entrance time. There is no wait for those who plan ahead and book an entrance hour.
Monet's waterlilies. I need say no more...
There is a big sign asking people to be quiet as they view the canvases. Juniper took it upon herself to remind people with her gentle "shhh!" Visitors smiled and obliged.
The perfect amount of time here is as long as those you are with remain spellbound. We came for the water lilies. We spent some time with them. We leave.
And now Primrose really would like a treat. Us grownups wouldn't mind a break either. So we go to a Tuileries Garden cafe -- the one next to the merry-go-round...
And Primrose orders ice cream, and Juniper orders ice cream, and us grownups order cool drinks and it is a beautiful moment indeed.
From here, it is one step toward the merry-go-round. As usual, the ticket seller gives me far more passes than we could possibly use. No matter. I will return someday with someone who wants that ride on a carousel...
It's late. We have a dinner reservation. We walk hurriedly back.
I was apprehensive about this one: my daughter wanted to return to Le Procope which is a Parisian classic. Some say it's the oldest restaurant in town (400 years old is indeed pretty old!). Traditional foods expertly prepared. Will the two girls survive a white table cloth meal, with waiters buzzing expertly around the packed tables?
They do indeed! It starts with Juniper loving the idea of eating olives off a toothpick.
Then loving the taste of French butter (Ed's with her on this one!). Then came the main foods. Chicken and beef dishes that melt in your mouth...
And finally, two shared desserts: chocolate molten cake and crepes flambé.
The setting of fire to the crepes got Primrose a little worried. But the taste of the crepes was so good that I could hardly take a picture: they all devoured them so quickly!
It was a joyous ending.
(a playful walk back to the hotel...)
Laughter and full bellies and gratitude that this day, which started off with the threat of storms and with a Juniper sluggishness, ended so beautifully, with energy and enthusiasm and so much love...
