Paris-Day 2

I've been traveling quite a bit lately and because of that it isn't uncommon for me to wake up and have no idea where I am. So day 2 of Paris I did just that.  Blinked a few times, waited for my head to clear from the muddled dreams and as the fog cleared I heard traffic far away and the hammering sounds of construction.  I looked around the room and remembered....I am in Paris.  

Opening the window and stepping out into the brisk December morning, I drank in the sights and sounds, including the construction on the other side of our street where the Military Academy was. 

What to do with our brief, golden hours of daylight.  We head out to coffee.  Since we have been living in France long enough to understand the way things work, it wasn't difficult for us to find a cafe and order coffee and croissants. Paris isn't necessarily more expensive then any other city, its just as expensive. We drank our coffee and looked over our city maps while waiting for the croissants to come out of the oven. Well, we ran out of coffee before the oven could finish so, naturally, we needed more coffee.  Our bill for breakfast was as follows:

4 coffees

+

4 croissants

=

25 euros

or

$32.34

Needless to say, I wanted to dive out the window while Dennis was down in the bathroom.  Somehow, spending $32 on pastry and coffee seemed extravagant. Delightful but extravagant. 

After our breakfast debacle we walked toward Madame Eiffel to see how bad the crowds were at the tower elevators. And they were bad.  The tour buses parked on the side streets were a good indication. So we continued to the river where we discovered the boat shuttle that would bring you past 7 major sights and allow you to board and disembark all along the river, all day long. That was for tomorrow.

We continued across the river toward The Arc de Triomphe were we watched in fascination as eleven streets emptied out into the round about without direction or order. Complete chaos. I couldn't take my eyes away from the hornets nest of cars and buses, motorbikes and trucks swirling and vying for position around this massive monument that Napoleon commissioned in 1806 to pay tribute to his victories in battle. The foundation alone took 2 years to complete.  Sadly, the structure wasn't completed until 1836...not in time for the Emperor to see it for himself. However his remains were brought through the Arc before they were laid to rest in Invalides. You reach the Arc by passing through a tunnel under the crazy street above.  Walking around and through this beautiful 164 foot historical piece makes you feel tiny and brief.  For a fee, you can also walk up to the top and bask in the view.  It marks the beginning of the Champs-Elysees "the most beautiful street in the world".

Paris-Day 1

My first thought as I climb up the metro steps and surface on a street in Paris, "I can't believe I'm hot and its 30 degrees and raining. I'm sweating". We stop at a perfect pastry shop to ask for directions to our hotel and a kindly women in a clean brown apron points toward the left and nods and smiles at us. So we pull our luggage (mostly my luggage) in the direction she waved us. Its dark and raining. We reach the corner of the street quickly. We look left and see our hotel brightly welcoming us across the street. I turn to Dennis and say "that was easy to find" and behind him I see this.

And then I think, "Where do I go from here? What do you do when you have fulfilled your oldest dream?"

There is so much to absorb. I want to stand on the street and just stare. But the rain moves me toward our hotel. Crossing the cobblestone streets and splashing through puddles. Our hotel is modest and clean. Nothing fancy except for the wonderful bathtub with endless hot water and of course, the view. 

I just want to stand out on that balcony and soak in the moment. Why is this tower of metal and light so magical for me? I can't say, not even standing with her right there in front of me. But I can't take my eyes away and I never get tired of looking at her.  The train ride was lovely, traveling from Nice to Gare de Lyon. Everything is happening so fast. In the blink of my eyes the countryside of France has fled by the window and we arrived in the basement of Paris. Changing from the train to the Metro system was easy, just lots of stairs to climb and tunnels to navigate.  In what felt like a few quick heartbeats we are in our hotel room changing clothes and heading out for dinner. Can this be happening? I am in Paris. I really truly am. I feel like a silly little girl again. I can't stop smiling. In many ways the journey here to Paris took years, long sad years. It was my dream to see this place, to walk the streets and drink deeply of her history and romance. I hoped and dreamed it but never felt certain that it would ever happen. That's how dreams are, right? Elusive. Paris was the theme of every calender and yearly planner I bought, every picture I hung in my room, every movie I watched. Napoleon was my obsession. France was where I always wanted to be. 

And now, I am living in the South of France and I am walking on a street in Paris, with the lights of the city twinkling around me, holding the hand of the best man I have ever known, someone who truly loves me and speaks French. How did this happen? Don't wake me up.

Anna

Things are settling into a routine here...pretty much. Anna seems to be adjusting well to her new life in a foreign country.  As far as I can tell, she doesn't seemed fazed. Although she misses my family, I can tell.  She gets these far off looks and I know she is thinking about my mother and laying in the middle of the floor while Jane tried to walk, clean and cook around her. Funny thing is that I like to lay in the middle of the floor too.  I guess Anna gets that from me.

Once I get out of bed in the morning (and this is not at an early hour, keep in mind) Dennis and Denise are already at breakfast and Anna is all "I wanna go out! I gotta go now!!!"..following me closely, bumping into the backs of my knees with her nose...herding me toward the door.  So I dress and drag my feet out the door and down the street.  We pass the local grocery store with the homeless man sitting out front, who always speaks to us but I have no idea if he is saying "have a lovely morning beautiful lady" or more like "can't you spare a euro? I'm starving to death, you fat American pig"...so I smile at him and keep walking. Past the butcher shop, across the street to a grass patch for Anna to do her deed in.  When she is through with that first step we continue on toward the olive tree garden. The street is quiet and we usually pass a few other dogs. One morning a tall and elegantly dressed woman, in dark sunglasses and 5 inch heels was walking what looked like two rats on long long leashes appeared from a driveway.  There was a flurry of French and barking from the rats and the woman....Anna stared and I kept going. Anna kept turning around to stare.  She turned around so much that she walked into a tree, a car, a garbage can and finally she walked right into me, causing us both to trip and end up in a tangle. Anna likes to turn around and stare while still walking.  Not good for me before I've actually woken up.

Sometimes we pass dogs unleashed, which is always an adventure...barking..jumping and lots of disgusted French comments. I can't understand the words but I know what the people are saying. I've said it all myself.

Now as we approach the area where dogs are allowed, just around the edges of the fenced in garden of 500 year old olive trees...I need to pause and add this side bit.  Anna and grass.  If you know Anna, you know that she cannot be responsible for her actions when she is around grass.  The girl is ridiculous. Rolling like a fool in any spot of the green.  She is like a grass addict.  Well, grass is not too easy to come by here in the South of France.  Most places Anna can be have been visited by tons of other dogs and the grass is long gone.  But Anna has turned to more exotic flora and fauna. Still in the grass family, don't get me wrong. She has discovered Ornamental Grass.  The six foot high kind with those fuzzy brown seed things on top.  And she manages to roll into it.. vertically.  Like a big tumbleweed.  So there I am, on any given morning....speaking in hushed angry tones to my dog as she rolls vertically with abandon into this huge bush of ornamental grass.  The grass has been slowly browning and falling over on the ends because its winter here, so after a few moments, Anna is completely invisible and all you could see if you were to walk by is a crazy American woman, talking in angry tones at a quivering bush of six foot tall grass, that she appears to have tied a red leash to.  Thanks Anna, for disappearing and leaving me here to look like a fool, a fool shouting at ornamental grass.