In Paris... Part Deux

Day 2 in the magnificent city of Paris began as it ought -- at a nearby pâtisserie. Per my earlier post, I've been determined to eat a freshly baked croissant with une café au lait. I was not disappointed. And I didn't feel more French, just a fatter but happier American. We discovered a cheap and friendly bakery where the croissants and pastries baked merely an hour before opening, and the buttery, crisp flakiness surrounding a soft, nearly melting center can only be described as délicieux.

We spent most of our day on L'Open Tour, a Parisian double decker bus. It's a hop on, hop off tour frequenting over 50 locations including Avenue des Champs-Élysées, Arc de Triomphe, Notre-Dame Cathedral, Grand Magasins, Sorbonne, River Seine, Louvre, Bastille area (now a busy traffic roundabout since the prison was demolished by the Revolutionaries in 1789), and of course the Eiffel Tower. If you have only a weekend or three days in a city, open bus tours are highly recommended.








(Photo above is of two elderly Parisian friends holding hands, quite sweet really).

After a mid-afternoon nap, we then headed to the edge of the Latin Quarter to meet a friend of mine from graduate school for a drink. It was typical, you know, Paris. The evening sun lighted the narrow cobblestone streets, glinting off the white walls of Parisian architecture; we sat in an open café drinking framboise and catching up on the last five years.

My friend also recommended a lovely bistro, where Mary and I leisurely had dinner for the next couple of hours before wandering the enchanting maze of backstreets toward our hotel. We were seated next to an older German couple celebrating their anniversary and playing footsie. He kept speaking in German, and she kept gently reminding him "en français, mon amour" (in French, my love). Which brings me to the topic of how displays of affection -- particularly long passionate kisses -- is ubiquitous in Paris. Mary found it cute; I found it annoying after ten minutes.

We stumbled upon an amazing La chocolaterie called Maison Larnicol. We went a little nuts.



Our last day in Paris was much colder and drearier. We waited for nearly an hour in the searing wind for the Catacombes de Paris, which runs underground of the city and holds the remains of nearly six million people including some of the saints. It was a macabre sight and bone-chilling (Dad, that was for you). Actually, it was impressive, and the entire tour -- though self-guided -- had a quiet air of reverence. As we navigated the dark tunnels, sometimes we'd see a staff worker huddled in a corner reading a book in the dim light. Surrounded by passages of bones.

I couldn't exactly smile.

Skulls (below) are placed in a heart-shape.

While visiting the catacombs was our last site before heading back to London, it did not dampen our spirits nor our desire to return, and I certainly plan on being back -- perhaps in the next five years.

Paris is a city I hope you visit. There is a tenor to this city, a timeless familiarity that's mesmerizing and magnetic. Monuments and history everywhere. It's easy to navigate by foot, metro, and bus. And at the risk of over-romanticizing, I'll still say it -- it's easy to fall in love here, whether it be with a person, a place, a café, even a croissant, the environment welcomes you.  Next time, care to come with me?