As always, Paris is beautiful

Paris is a beautiful city. When I am not here, I have a profound memory of her beauty and I long to return, yet the actual delight of walking her streets is fresh and new every time I return. Yes, part of the allure is the absolute Paris of it all: the elaborate iron-worked railings stitched across gray-stone fronts, the ruddy-orange chimney pipes emanating from every ubiquitous Mansard roof-topped building, and the slightly curving, non-grid spoke pattern streets, where rarely one street will cross another, but usually three of four streets come together at once, with cars, buses, taxis, motor-scooters, bicyclists and pedestrians vying for their chance to boldly dance across the intersection.

P and I have come here for a month to practice relaxing, and to sketch a plan for our next interests. A clearing we have claimed, to insert our "what next". We are staying at Chez Dupuis, our dear friend’s apartment in the culturally diverse 10th Arrondissement. We arrived mid-day, our only goal to stay awake until nightfall, to attempt to baffle the circadian-dominated body clock and escape a strong bout of jetlag. After a long walk through our neighborhood, strolling past the multitude of cafes and stopping at a market for essentials, we took a small screw-top bottle of French Merlot to sip canal-side of the Canal St. Martin along the Quai de Valmy at sunset.

We made it til 9:30 p.m., only to damage our success by sleeping until 1pm the next day. Luckily, our only goal for our first day was to make it to Le Printemps (a large department store, aptly named “Springtime”) to buy me a pair of house slippers. On the 9th floor of the housewares building (Le Printemps encompasses three entire 6+ storey buildings), Café Le Ciel (The Sky) has a nice bistro with a rooftop deck and 360 degree view. Although it was a gray day, the excitement of seeing the Eiffel Tower in the skyline while eating a late lunch of salmon with dill-crème sauce and lovely thin French green beans more than made up for the weather.

We strolled along back streets heading to our neighborhood, turning at corners only when we felt so inclined. We found sweet little Café M and stopped for a cappuccino, and some writing and people watching. We are in heaven, for the French have perfected the “café hang-out”. One can order a coffee, brought to your table sidewalk-side, and stay for hours. On our way home from Day 1, we stopped at a mini-grocery store and picked up further provisions for dinner and an entire day at home the following Day 2.